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San Francisco, California 












Tros Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur. 



Copyright, 1895, by LLOYD BRYCE. 

All rights reserved. 



JULY, 1895. 



The Pathfinder and The Deer slayer stand at the head of Cooper's novels 
as artistic creations. There are others of his works which contain parts as 
perfect as are to be found in these, and scenes even more thrilling. Not one 
can be compared with either of them as a finished whole. 

The defects in both of these tales are comparatively slight. They were 
pure works of art. Prof. Lounsbury. 

The five tales reveal an extraordinary fulness of invention. 

One of the very greatest characters in fiction, "Natty 
Bumppo." . . . 

The craft of the woodsman, the tricks of the trapper, all the delicate art 
of the forest, were familiar to Cooper from his youth up. Prof. Brander 

Cooper is the greatest artist in the domain of romantic fiction yet pro 
duced by America. Wilkie Collins. 

It seems to me that it was far from right for the Professor ol 
English Literature in Y"ale, the Professor of English Literature 
in Columbia, and Wilkie Collins, to deliver opinions on Cooper's 
literature without having read some of it. It would have 
been much more decorous to keep silent and let persons talk who 
have read Cooper. 

Cooper's art has some defects. In one place in Deerslayer, 
and in the restricted space of two-thirds of a page, Cooper 
has scored 114 offences against literary art out of a possible 115. 
It breaks the record. 

There are nineteen rules governing literary art in the domain 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 1 

Copyright, 1895, by LLOYD BKYOK. All rights reserved. 


of romantic fiction some say twenty-two. In Deerslayer Cooper 
violated eighteen of them. These eighteen require : 

1. That a tale shall accomplish something and arrive some 
where. But the Deerslayer tale accomplishes nothing and arrives 
in the air. 

2. They require that the episodes of a tale shall be necessary 
parts of the tale, and shall help to develop it. But as the Deer- 
.v/rt?/er tale is not a tale, and accomplishes nothing and arrives no 
where, the episodes have no rightful place in the work, since 
there was nothing for them to develop. 

3. They require that the personages in a tale shall be alive, 
except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be 
able to tell the corpses from the others. But this detail has often 
been overlooked in the Deerslayer tale. 

4. They require that the personages in a tale, both dead and 
alive, shall exhibit a sufficient excuse for being there. But this 
detail also has been overlooked in the Deerslayer tale. 

5. They require that when the personages of a tale deal in 
conversation, the talk shall sound like human talk, and be talk 
such as human beings would be likely to talk in the given circum 
stances, and have a discoverable meaning, also a discoverable pur 
pose, and a show of relevancy, and remain in the neighborhood 
of the subject in hand, and be interesting to the reader, and help 
out the tale, and stop when the people cannot think of anything 
more to say. But this requirement has been ignored from the be 
ginning of the Deerslayer tale to the end of it. 

6. They require that when the author describes the character 
of a personage in his tale, the conduct and conversation of that 
persenage shall justify said description. But this law gets little 
or no attention in the Deerslayer tale, as "Natty Bumppo's" case 
will amply prove. 

7. They require that when a personage talks like an illus 
trated, gilt-edged, tree-calf, hand -tooled, seven-dollar Friendship's 
Offering in the beginning of a paragraph, he shall not talk like 
a negro minstrel in the end of it. But this rule is flung down and 
danced upon in the Deerslayer tale. 

8. They require that crass stupidities shall not be played upon 
the reader as " the craft of the woodsman, the delicate art of the 
forest," by either the author or the people in the tale. But this 
rule is persistently violated in the Deerslayer tale. 


9. They require that the personages of a tale shall confine 
themselves to possibilities and let miracles alone ; or, if they ven 
ture a miracle, the author must so plausibly set it forth as to 
make it look possible and reasonable. But these rules are not re 
spected in the Deerslayer tale. 

10. They require that the author shall make the reader feel a 
deep interest in the personages of his tale and in their fate ; and 
that he shall make the reader love the good people in the tale and 
hate the bad ones. But the reader of the Deerslayer tal6 dislikes 
the good people in it, is indifferent to the others, and wishes they 
would all get drowned together. 

11. They require that the characters in a tale shall be so 
clearly defined that the reader can tell beforehand what each will 
do in a given emergency. But in the Deerslayer tale this rule is 

In addition to these large rules there are some little ones. 
These require that the author shall 

12. Say what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it. 

13. Use the right word, not its second cousin. 

14. Eschew surplusage. 

15. Not omit necessary details. 

16. Avoid slovenliness of form. 

17. Use good grammar. 

18. Employ a simple and straightforward style. 

Even these seven are coldly and persistently violated in the 
Deerslayer tale. 

Cooper's gift in the way of invention was not a rich endow 
ment ; but such as it was he liked to work it, he was pleased with the 
effects, and indeed he did some quite sweet things with it. In his 
little box of stage properties he kept six or eight cunning devices, 
tricks, artifices for his savages and woodsmen to deceive and cir 
cumvent each other with, and he was never so happy as when he 
was working these innocent things and seeing them go. A fav 
orite one was to make a moccasined person tread in the tracks of 
the moccasined enemy, and thus hide his own trail. Cooper wore 
out barrels and barrels of moccasins in working that trick. An 
other stage-property that he pulled out of his box pretty frequently 
was his broken twig. He prized his broken twig above all the 
rest of his effects, and worked it the hardest. It is a restful chap 
ter in any book of his when somebody doesn't step on a dry twig 


and alarm all the reds and whites for two hundred yards around. 
Every time a Cooper person is in peril, and absolute silence is worth 
four dollars a minute, he is sure to step on a dry twig. There may 
be a hundred handier things to step on, but that wouldn't satisfy 
Cooper. Cooper requires him to turn out and find a dry twig ; 
and if he can't do it, go and borrow one. In fact the Leather 
Stocking Series ought to have been called the Broken Twig 

I am sorry there is not room to put in a few dozen instances 
of the delicate art of the forest, as practiced by Natty Bumppo 
and some of the other Cooperian experts. Perhaps we may 
venture two or three samples. Cooper was a sailor a naval offi 
cer ; yet he gravely tells us how a vessel, driving toward a lee 
shore in a gale, is steered for a particular spot by her skipper 
because he knows of an undertow there which will hold her back 
against the gale and save her. For just pure woodcraft, or sailor- 
craft, or whatever it is, isn't that neat ? For several years Cooper 
was daily in the society of artillery, and he ought to have noticed 
that when a cannon ball strikes the ground it either buries itself 
or skips a hundred feet or so ; skips again a hundred feet or so 
and so on, till it finally gets tired and rolls. Now in one place he 
loses some "females" as he always calls women in the edge of 
a wood near a plain at night in a fog, on purpose to give Bumppo 
a chance to show off the delicate art of the forest before the 
ivader. These mislaid people are hunting for a fort. They hear 
a cannon-blast, and a cannon-ball presently comes rolling into the 
wood and stops at their feet. To the females this suggests noth 
ing. The case is very different with the admirable Bumppo. I 
wish I may never know peace again if he doesn't strike out 
promptly and follow the track of that cannon-ball across the plain 
through the dense fog and find the fort. Isn't it a daisy ? If 
Cooper had any real knowledge of Nature's ways of doing things, 
he had a most delicate art in concealing the fact. For instance : 
one of his acute Indian experts, Chingachgook (pronounced 
Chicago, I think), has lost the trail of a person he is tracking 
through the forest. Apparently that trail is hopelessly lost. 
Neither you nor I could ever have guessed out the way to find it. 
It was very different with Chicago. Chicago was not stumped 
for long. He turned a running stream out of its course, and 
there, in the slush in its old bed, were that person's moccasin 7 


tracks. The current did not wash them away, as it would 
have done in all other like cases no, even the eternal laws 
of Nature have to vacate when Cooper wants to put up a delicate 
job of woodcraft on the reader. 

We must be a little wary when Brander Matthews tells us that 
Cooper's books "reveal an extraordinary fulness of invention." 
As a rule, lam quite willing to accept Brander Matfchews's literary 
judgments and applaud his lucid and graceful phrasing of them ; 
but that particular statement needs to be taken with a few tons of 
salt. Bless your heart, Cooper hadn't any more invention than a 
horse ; and I don't mean a high class horse, either ; I mean a 
clothes-horse. It would be very difficult to find a really clever 
" situation " in Cooper's books ; and still more difficult to find one 
of any kind which he has failed to render absurd by his handling 
of it. Look at the episodes of "the caves;" and at the cele 
brated scuffle between Maqua and those others on the table-land 
a few days later ; and at Hurry Harry's queer water-transit from 
the castle to the ark ; and at Deerslayer's half hour with his first 
corpse ; and at the quarrel between Hurry Harry and Deerslayer 
later ; and at but choose for yourself ; you can't go amiss. 

If Cooper had been an observer, his inventive faculty would 
have worked better, not more interestingly, but more rationally, 
more plausibly. Cooper's proudest creations in the way of 
" situations" suffer noticeably from the absence of the observer's 
protecting gift. Cooper's eye was splendidly inaccurate. Cooper 
seldom saw anything correctly. He saw nearly all things as 
through a glass eye, darkly. Of course a man who cannot see the 
commonest little everyday matters accurately is working at a dis 
advantage when he is constructing a "situation." In the Deer- 
slayer tale Cooper has a stream which is fifty feet wide, where it 
floAvs out of a lake ; it presently narrows to twenty as it meanders 
along for no given reason, and yet, when a stream acts like that 
it ought to be required to explain itself. Fourteen pages later 
the width of the brook's outlet from the lake has suddenly shrunk 
thirty feet, and become ft the narrowest part of the stream." 
This shrinkage is not accounted for. The stream has bends in it, 
a sure indication that it has alluvial banks, and cuts them ; yet 
these bends are only thirty and fifty feet long. If Cooper had 
been a nice and punctilious observer he would have noticed that 
the bends were of tener nine hundred feet long than short of it. 


Cooper made the exit of that stream fifty feet wide in the first 
place, for no particular reason ; in the second place, he narrowed 
it to less than twenty to accommodate some Indians. He bends 
a " sapling " to the form of an arch over this narrow passage, 
and conceals six Indians in its foliage. They are "laying" for 
a settler's scow or ark which is coming up the stream on its way 
to the lake ; it is being hauled against the stiff current by a rope 
whose stationary end is anchored in the lake ; its rate of progress 
cannot be more than a mile an hour. Cooper describes the ark, 
but pretty obscurely. In the matter of dimensions " it was little 
more than a modern canal boat." Let us guess, then, that it 
was about 140 feet long. It was of "greater breadth than 
common." Let us guess, then, that it was about sixteen feet 
wide. This leviathan had been prowling down bends which were 
but a third as long as itself, and scraping between banks where it 
had only two feet of space to spare on each side. We cannot too 
much admire this miracle. A low-roofed log dwelling occupies 
"two-third's of the ark's length " a dwelling ninety feet long 
and sixteen feet wide, let us say a kind of vestibule train. The 
dwelling has two rooms each forty-five feet long and sixteen feet 
wide, let us guess. One of them is the bed-room of the Hutter 
girls, Judith and Hetty ; the other is the parlor, in the day time, 
at night it is papa's bed chamber. The ark is arriving at the 
stream's exit, now, whose width has been reduced to less than 
twenty feet to accommodate the Indians say to eighteen. There 
is a foot to spare on each side of the boat. Did the Indians 
notice that there was going to be a tight squeeze there ? Did 
they notice that they could make money by climbing down out 
of that arched sapling and just stepping aboard when the ark 
scraped by ? No ; other Indians would have noticed these things, 
but Cooper's Indians never notice anything. Cooper thinks they 
are marvellous creatures for noticing, but he was almost always in 
error about his Indians. There was seldom a sane one among 

The ark is 140 feet long ; the dwelling is 90 feet long. The 
idea of the Indians is to drop softly and secretly from the arched 
sapling to the dwelling as the ark creeps along under it at the 
rate of a mile an hour, and butcher the family. It will take the 
ark a minute and a half to pass under. It will take the 90-foot 
dwelling a minute to pass under. Now, then, what did the six 


Indians do ? It would take you thirty years to guess, and even 
then you would have to give it up, I believe. Therefore, I will 
tell you what the Indians did. Their chief, a person of quite ex 
traordinary intellect for a Cooper Indian, warily watched the 
canal boat as it squeezed along under him, and when he had got 
his calculations fined down to exactly the right shade, as he 
judged, he let go and dropped. And missed the house ! That is 
actually what he did. He missed the house, and landed in the 
stern of the scow. It was not much of a fall, yet it knocked him 
silly. He lay there unconscious. If the house had been 97 feet 
long, he would have made the trip. The fault was Cooper's, not 
his. The error lay in the construction of the house. Cooper was 
no architect. 

There still remained in the roost five Indians. The boat has 
passed under and is now out of their reach. Let me ex 
plain what the five did you would not be able to reason 
it out for yourself. No. 1 jumped for the boat, but fell in 
the water astern of it. Then No. 2 jumped for the boat, 
but fell in the water -still further astern of it. Then No. 3 
jumped for the boat, and fell a good way astern of it. Then 
No. 4 jumped for the boat, and fell in the water away astern. 
Then even No. 5 made a jump for the boat for he was a Cooper 
Indian. In the matter of intellect, the difference between a 
Cooper Indian and the Indian that stands in front of the cigar 
shop is not spacious. The scow episode is really a sublime 
burst of invention ; but it does not thrill, because the inaccuracy 
of the details throws a sort of air of fictitiousness and general 
improbability over it. This comes of Cooper's inadequacy as an 

The reader will find some examples of Cooper's high talent for 
inaccurate observation in the account of the shooting match in 
Tlie Pathfinder . (i A common wrought nail was driven lightly 
into the target, its head having been first touched with paint." 
The color of the paint is not stated an important omission, but 
Cooper deals freely in important omissions. No, after all, it was 
not an important omission ; for this nail head is a hundred yards 
from the marksman and could not be seen by them at that distance 
no matter what its color might be. How far can the best eyes 
see a common house fly ? A hundred yards ? It is quite impos 
sible. Very well, eyes that cannot see a house fly that is a hun- 


drecl yards away cannot see an ordinary nail head at that distance, 
for the size of the two objects is the same. It takes a keen eye to 
see a fly or a nail head at fifty yards One hundred and fifty feet. 
Can the reader do it ? 

The nail was lightly driven, its head painted, and game called. 
Then the Cooper miracles began. The bullet of the first marks 
man chipped an edge of the nail head ; the next man's bullet 
drove the nail a little way into the target and removed all the 
paint. Haven't the miracles gone far enough now ? Not to suit 
Cooper ; for the purpose of this whole scheme is to show off his 
prodigy, Deerslayer-Hawkeye-Long-Rifle-Leather-Stocking-Path- 
finder-Bumppo before the ladies. 

44 Be all ready to clench it, boys ! " cried out Pathfinder, stepping into 
his friend's tracks the instant they were vacant. " Never mind a new nail ; 
I can see that, though the paint is gone, and what I can see, I can hit at a 
hundred yards, though it were only a mosquitos's eye. Be ready to clench ! " 

The rifle cracked, the bullet sped its way and the head of the nail was 
buried in the wood, covered by the piece of flattened lead. 

There, you see, is a man who could hunt flies with a rifle, 
and command a ducal salary in a Wild West show to-day, if we 
had him back with us. 

The recorded feat is certainly surprising, just as it stands ; 
but it is not surprising enough for Cooper. Cooper adds a touch. 
He has made Pathfinder do this miracle with another man's 
rifle, and not only that, but Pathfinder did not have even the 
advantage of loading it himself. He had everything against him, 
and yet he made that impossible shot, and not only made it, but 
did it with absolute confidence, saying, "Be ready to clench." 
Now a person like that would have undertaken that same feat 
with a brickbat, and with Cooper to help he would have achieved 
it, too. 

Pathfinder showed off handsomely that day before the ladies. 
His very first feat was a thing which no Wild West show can 
touch. He was standing with the group of marksmen, observing 
a hundred yards from the target, mind : one Jasper raised his 
rifle and drove the centre of the bull's-eye. Then the quarter 
master fired. The target exhibited no result this time. There 
was a laugh. " It's a dead miss," said Major Lundie. Pathfinder 
waited an impressive moment or two, then said in that calm, in 
different, know-it-all way of his, " No, Major he has covered 


Jasper's bullet, as will be seen if any one will take the trouble to 
examine the target." 

Wasn't it remarkable ! How could he see that little pellet fly 
through the air and enter that distant bullet-hole ? Yet that is 
what he did ; for nothing is impossible to a Cooper person. Did 
any of those people have any deep-seated doubts about this thing ? 
No ; for that would imply sanity, and these were all Cooper 

The respect for Pathfinder's skill and for his quickness and accuracy of 
sight (the italics are mine) was so profound and general, that the instant 
he made this declaration the spectators began to distrust their own opinions, 
and a dozen rushed to the target in order to ascertain the fact. There, sure 
enough, it was found that the quartermaster's bullet had gone through the 
hole made by Jasper's, and that, too, so accurately as to require a minute 
examination to be certain of the circumstance, which, however, was soon 
clearly established by discovering one bullet over the other in the stump 
against which the target was placed. 

They made a "minute" examination; but never mind, how 
could they know that there were two bullets in that hole without 
digging the latest one out ? for neither probe nor eyesight could 
prove the presence of any more than one bullet. Did they dig ? 
No ; as we shall see. It is the Pathfinder's turn now ; he steps 
out before the ladies, takes aim, and fires. 

But alas ! here is a disappointment ; an incredible, an un 
imaginable disappointment for the target's aspect is unchanged ; 
there is nothing there but that same old bullet hole ! 

* If one dared to hint at such a thing," cried Major Duncan, " I should 
day that the Pathfinder has also missed the target." 

As nobody had missed it yet, the " also " was not necessary ; 
but never mind about that, for the Pathfinder is going to speak. 

"No, no, Major," said he, confidently, "that would be a risky declara 
tion. I didn't load the piece, and can't say what was in it, but if it was lead, 
you will find the bullet driving down those of the Quartermaster and Jas 
per, else is not my name Pathfinder." 

A shout from the target announced the truth of this assertion. 

Is the miracle sufficient as it stands? Not for Cooper. The 
Pathfinder speaks again, as he " now slowly advances towards the 
stage occupied by the females:" 

"That's not all, boys, that's not all; if you find the target touched at all, 
I'll own to a miss. The Quartermaster cut the wood, but you'll find no 
wood cut by that last messenger." 

The miracle is at last complete. He knew doubtless saw 
at the distance of a hundred yards that his bullet had passed 


into the hole without fraying the edges. There were now three 
bullets in that one hole three bullets imbedded processionally in 
the body of the stump back of the target. Everybody knew this 
somehow or other and yet nobody had dug any of them out 
to make sure. Cooper is not a close observer, but he is interest 
ing. He is certainly always that, no matter what happens. And 
he is more interesting when he is not noticing what he is about 
than when he is. This is a considerable merit. 

The conversations in the Cooper books have a curious sound 
in our modern ears. To believe that such talk really ever came 
out of people's mouths would be to believe that there was a time 
when time was of no value to a person who thought he had some 
thing to say ; when it was the custom to spread a two-minute re 
mark out to ten ; when a man's mouth was a rolling-mill, and 
busied itself all day long in turning four-foot pigs of thought 
into thirty -foot bars of conversational railroad iron by attenua 
tion ; when subjects were seldom faithfully stuck to, but the talk 
wandered all around and arrived nowhere ; when conversations 
consisted mainly of irrelevances, with here and there a relevancy, 
a relevancy with an embarrassed look, as not being able to explain 
how it got there. 

Cooper was certainly not a master in the construction of dia 
logue. Inaccurate observation defeated him here as it defeated 
him in so many other enterprises of his. He even failed to 
notice that the man who talks corrupt English six days in the 
week must and will talk it on the seventh, and can't help him 
self. In the Deerslayer story he lets Deerslayer talk the showiest 
kind of book talk sometimes, and at other times the basest of 
base dialects. For instance, when some one asks him if he has a 
sweetheart, and if so, where she abides, this is his majestic 
answer : 

" She's in the forest hanging from the boughs of the trees, in a soft 
rain in the dew on the open grass the clouds that float about in the blue 
heavens the birds that sing in the woods the sweet springs where I slake 
my thirst and in all the other glorious gifts that come from God's 
Providence I " 

And he preceded that, a little before, with this : 

" It consarns me as all things that touches a fri'nd consarns a fri'nd." 

And this is another of his remarks : 

44 If I was Injin born, now, I might tell of this, or carry in the scalp and 


boast of the expl'ite afore the whole tribe ; or if my inimy had only been a 
bear "and so on. 

We cannot imagine such a thing as a veteran Scotch Com- 
mauder-in-Chief comporting himself in the field like a windy melo 
dramatic actor, but Cooper could. On one occasion Alice and 
Cora were being chased by the French through a fog in the 
neighborhood of their father's fort: 

"Point de quartier aux coquins!" cried an eager pursuer, who seemed 
to direct the operations of the enemy. 

"Stand firm and be ready, my gallant 60ths!" suddenly exclaimed a 
voice above them ; "wait to see the enemy ; fire low, and sweep the glacis." 

"Father! father !" exclaimed a piercing cry from out the mist; "it is 
I ! Alice ! thy own Elsie ! spare, O ! save your daughters ! " 

"Hold!" shouted the former speaker, in the awful tones of parental 
agony, the sound reaching even to the woods, and rolling back in solemn echo. 
" 'Tis she ! God has restored me my children ! Throw open the sally-port ; 
to the field, GOths, to the field ; pull not a trigger, lest ye kill my lambs ! 
Drive off these dogs of France with your steel." 

Cooper's word-sense was singularly dull. When a person has 
a poor ear for music he will flat and sharp right along without 
knowing it. He keeps near the tune, but it is not the tune. 
When a person has a poor ear for words, the result is a literary 
flatting and sharping ; you perceive what he is intending to say, 
but you also perceive that he doesn't say it. This is Cooper. He 
was not a word-musician. His ear was satisfied with the approxi 
mate word. I will furnish some -circumstantial evidence in sup 
port of this charge. My instances are gathered from half a dozen 
pages of the tale called Deerslayer. He uses <f verbal," for 
" oral " ; " precision/' for " facility " ; " phenomena," for " mar 
vels " ; " necessary," for " predetermined " ; " unsophisticated," 
for "primitive"; "preparation," for "expectancy"; "re 
buked," for "subdued"; "dependant on," for "resulting 
from " ; " fact," for " condition " ; " fact," for " conjecture " ; 
" precaution," for " caution " ; " explain," for " determine " ; 
" mortified," for " disappointed " ; " meretricious," for " fac 
titious " ; " materially," for " considerably " ; " decreasing," for 
" deepening " ; " increasing," for " disappearing " ; " embed 
ded," for " enclosed " ; " treacherous," for " hostile " ; " stood," 
for " stooped " ; " softened," for " replaced " ; " rejoined," for 
"remarked"; "situation," for "condition"; "'different," for 
" differing " ; "insensible, " for " unsentient " ; " brevity," for 
"celerity"; "distrusted," for "suspicious"; "mental imbe- 


cility," for "imbecility"; "eyes," for "sight"; 

ing," for " opposing " ; " funeral obsequies," for " obsequies." 

There have been daring people in the world who claimed that 
Cooper could write English, but they are all dead now all dead 
but Lounsbury. I don't remember that Lounsbury makes the 
claim in so many words, still he makes it, for he says that Deer- 
slayer is a "pure work of art." Pure, in that connection, means 
faultless faultless in all details and language is a detail. If 
Mr. Lounsbury had only compared Cooper's English with the 
English which he writes himself but it is plain that he didn't ; 
and so it is likely that he imagines until this day that Cooper's is 
as clean and compact as his own. Now I feel sure, deep down 
in my heart, that Cooper wrote about the poorest English that 
exists in our language, and that the English of Deerslayer is the 
very worst than even Cooper ever wrote. 

I may be mistaken, but it does seem to me that Deerslayer is 
not a work of art in any sense ; it does seem to me that it is desti 
tute of every detail that goes to the making of a work of art ; in 
truth, it seems to me that Deerslayer is just simply a literary 
delirium tremens. 

A work of art ? It has no invention ; it has no order, system, 
sequence, or result ; it has no lifelikeness, no thrill, no stir, no 
seeming of reality ; its characters are confusedly drawn, and by 
their acts and words they prove that they are not the sort of 
people the author claims that they are ; its humor is pathetic ; 
its pathos is funny ; its conversations are oh ! indescribable ; 
its love-scenes odious ; its English a crime against the language. 

Counting these out, what is left is Art. I think we must all 
admit that. 




THE ending of two lives that had run in channels strangely 
similar redoubles interest over that country ever paramount in 
anomalous conditions Egypt. Vocabularies of praise and cen 
sure have been well nigh exhausted on Ismail Pasha and De 
Lesseps, whose recent deaths were chronicled simply as items of 
news rather than events ; but the nineteenth century is indebted 
to them for a work of incalculable value to the whole world, 
Egypt alone excepted. 

Egypt reaps no benefit from the international waterway cross 
ing its domain, uniting the Orient with the Occident ; in fact, the 
Suez Canal, which has played a mighty political part, made and 
unmade khedives, and which, by strange fatality, passed from the 
control of the nation that built it to that of the country that 
strenuously fought its construction, is responsible for the modern 
bondage of the Egyptian people. 

Prior to the giving of the canal concession, Egypt had no 
debt. Her credit was first pledged in Europe by Viceroy Said, 
who, to add lustre to his name, headed the subscriptions to the 
capital of the enterprise with $17,000,000, although the under 
taking was to cost Egypt nothing, and from which for ninety- 
nine years she was to receive fifteen per cent, of the gross receipts. 
This laid the corner-stone of the new house of bondage. 

Ismail succeeding to the throne, lent himself readily to the 
seductive project, learning how easy it was to borrow money by 
affixing his signature to an innocent-looking paper thoughtfully 
prepared in Europe. His first transaction was a matter of $30,- 
000,000, and thenceforth there was frequent exchange between 


His Highness and Paris and London of these innocent-looking 
papers, for gold . 

There were many investors in the scheme, but it seemed as if 
Egypt alone fed the insatiable monster with money. Native work 
men digging the ditch, received no pay. It was forced labor. 
But the French Emperor awarded the French company an 
enormous sum for Ismail's breach of contract, when he sent 
the fellaheen back to their fields, such of them as survived fevers 
and starvation. Egypt paid, of course. 

The colossal work completed, Ismail's magnificent extrava 
gance devised a celebration of fitting splendor, from his Oriental 
standpoint. The opening of the canal in 1869 outranked in gor- 
geousness anything described in the Arabian Nights. Royalties 
and notables, from Europe, were treated to a fete in Cairo trans 
cending the wildest dreams of Haroun-al-Raschid, lasting a month, 
over which the Merry Monarch spent $21,000,000 of the people's 

History reveals nothing equal to IsmaiTs carnival of extrava 
gance. In thirteen years he added to Egypt's exterior burden 
$430,000,000, and increased the taxation of his subjects more 
than fifty per cent. 

A day of reckoning came, however, when engagements could 
not be met, for Egypt was hypothecated to its fullest value, and 
the usurers of Europe made such outcry that Ismail was forced by 
the Sultan to surrender his throne and go into exile. Forseeing 
the crash, he had sold to the British Government his own shares 
for $20,000,000, on which the Egyptian treasury for twenty years 
faithfully paid five per cent, interest. This purchase illustrated 
Disraeli's shrewdness, for by prompt action he prevented the 
shares from going to France. They are to-day worth more than 
four times what they cost, and secure to England the voting con 
trol. The promised fifteen per cent, of tolls had also been sacri 
ficed by Ismail, as security on which to borrow the last few mill 
ions necessary to complete the canal. 

The dethroned Khedive's bequest to his country was a debt of 
$450,000,000, not two-thirds of which sum ever left the hands of 
the bankers' agents and negotiators. The principal work over 
which it was spent was the canal, not to belong to Egypt until 
1968. Docks at Alexandria and Suez, and a few hundred miles 
of railways and telegraphs, costing perhaps ten per cent, of the 


sum borrowed, represented the benefits to his nation. Steam ves 
sels of useless pattern, stucco palaces, gilded coaches and operatic 
scores and costumes, formed meagre assets. 

In Tewfik's reign there were many evidences "of financial dis 
integration, such as obdurate creditors, commissions of liquida 
tion, an Anglo-French financial control, and the like. The bur 
den of the fellaheen was almost unbearable. The cry of " Egypt 
for the Egyptians" meant much, and the Arabi rebellion, a di 
rect outcome of the people's condition, menaced the authority of 
the Khedive, until stifled by an English fleet and soldiers in 1882. 
France, it is asserted, did not deem it necessary to bombard the 
Alexandrian forts held by the rebels, and, declining to share the 
responsibilities of such an act, her fleet steamed away from the 
Egypt in which Frenchmen had held sway from the coming of 
Napoleon in 1798. 

Military and civil " occupation "by the British followed, its ob 
ject being to restore the authority of the Khedive and repair the 
fortunes of the land by administrative reform. Consequently the 
year 1882 becomes the epoch from which dates everything current 
in discussin r; Egyptian affairs. The indebtedness when the reform 
policy was instituted reached nearly $475,000,000, bearing six or 
seven per cent, interest, speaking generally. As a class Egyp 
tian securities ruled very low on European bourses in 1882. 
" Unifieds " f or a time were 46-J, and other designations were 
even less. An average quotation for several months was 50, 
meaning that prudent investors would give only $237,500,000 for 
the Egytian debt. 

It has never been possible to determine the nationality of 
holders of Egyptian bonds. Interest coupons are presented in 
London, Paris, Berlin and Cairo, and naturally at the place where 
exchange is highest, or where income taxes can be escaped. It is be 
lieved, however, that English people hold more than half of them. 
A British financier estimates that five-eighths better represents 
the stake of his country-people. If so, England's share of the 
debt in 1882 was about $296,875,000, worth in the market $148,- 

Entanglements of every sort beset the work of regeneration 
entered upon by Tewfik Pasha and the foreigners electing to labor 
with him. For years it was a neck and neck race with bankruptcy. 
Indemnification of Alexandrians whose property was destroyed 


by reason of the rebellion, the military disaster resulting in the 
loss of the Soudan, and other inevitable expenses swelled the debt 
by nearly $40,000,000. The soil the sole producing agent of 
the country needed better and more extended irrigation, and a 
fresh loan was actually negotiated in Europe to make useful the 
Nile barrage, at the apex of the Delta, regulating the supply of 
water used by the cotton cultivators. 

At last fortune turned, and hypercritical Europe was satisfied 
of the solvency of the country of the Nile. It is a popular fallacy 
that the debt has been reduced since England's co-operation 
began : it has been materially added to. But the character of 
the security in other words, the intrinsic worth of the country 
has been so improved that owners of bonds have willingly reduced 
the rate of interest by nearly half. 

Egypt's emergence from practical bankruptcy, with its obli 
gations quoted almost as high as English consols, reads like a 
romance ; and there is no better object lesson in economical pro 
gress, through administrative reform, than that presented by 
contemporary Egypt. 

Taking the figures of the debt in 1882, with England's share 
estimated at $296,875,000, and '' Egyptians" now touching four 
per cent, premium, the appreciation is something enormous. 
The difference between the estimated value then and the known 
value to-day of England's supposed share is no less than $149,- 
625,000 ! Of course the advance has benefited all bondholders 
proportionately French, German, Italian, Austrian and Russian, 
as well as English. 

The amount and details of the debt at the present time are as 
follows : 

Guaranteed loan, 3 percent, (quoted 6W premium) $42,442,866 

Privileged debt. 3V6 per cent, (quoted 1% premium) 142,851,798 

Unified debt, 4 per cent, (quoted 454 premium) 272,037,625 

Domain loan, 4>4 per cent, (quoted 7 premium) 19,418,421 

Daira Sanieh loan, 4 per cent, (quoied 2} premium) 32,191,589 

Total bonded debt $508,94 5,299 

This debt, applying as it does to an agricultural population of 
7,000,000 people, where manual labor is worth from fifteen to 
twenty cents a day, and to only about 9,000 square miles of till 
able soil an area a trifle less than New Hampshire or Vermont 
in extent is almost overpowering. Frenchmen and Englishmen 
owe more per capita, but their resources are incomparably greater, 


and their creditors are their own countrymen. The American, 
owing about $15, may well pity the lot of the Egyptian, who owes 

The Egyptian question in its popular aspect is one of adminis 
tration, rather than of politics, and that the work of establishing 
financial equilibrium has been successful is obvious. Recuperation 
has been brought about by checking waste and dishonesty, and 
developing the soil and adding to the cultivated territory by irriga 
tion. The abolition of slavery merits universal praise, as does the 
suppression of forced labor for public works, with the attendant 
curse of the courbash. The improvement in native jurisprudence 
has likewise beeji conspicuous, for native courts now have more 
than a semblance of justice. The reduction by half of the price 
of salt, and railroad and postal rates, proves the wisdom of legis 
lating for the earning classes, by double service. 

Changes of any sort are made with difficulty, because of 
unique conditions. The cash box guarded by representatives of 
six European governments, and treaty privileges existing with 
fourteen powers, some of which are not in harmony with the 
present conduct of affairs in Egypt, make progress difficult. 
Hence the restoration of the country to easy prosperity, at a pe 
riod when shrinkage in prices of cotton, sugar and grain has been 
great, must be regarded as a conspicuous triumph. Khedive 
Abbas and his co-workers, whoever they may be, have much to 
accomplish still. But system and economy now established, the 
attainment of permanent success will not be difficult. 

It is too early for speculation as to the reversionary value of 
the Suez Canal. Yearly more and more necessary to commercial 
interchange with India and the bountiful East, sceptics assert 
that in time it may be treated as toll roads arid bridges have been 
the world over thrown open to the public, and maintained by a 
nominal tax on vessels using it, after the manner of lighthouses. 
It has brought Egypt into unfortunate prominence as stragetical 
ground, certainly, and the prospect is not reassuring, say carpers, 
that the world's greatest artery of marine travel (responsible 
for the borrowing habit of past rulers of Egypt) will ever bring 
substantial benefit to the Egyptians. Some indemnification of 
Egypt would be demanded by public opinion, surely. Last year's 
tolls were about $15,000,000, and for 1895 should be as good as 
$17,000,000. In 1894 the British flag represented 71i per cent. 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 2 


of the traffic, as against 5 for France. The number of steamers 
passing through was 3,352. Next to England, Germany is the 
principal user of the canal. 

As in other small countries, where the gulf between the masses 
and the upper class is wide, bureaucracy is a crying evil. It is 
estimated that two per cent, of the able-bodied men serve the 
government in some capacity. Nepotism formerly had full play, 
and it is difficult now to make the people understand that merit 
rather than favor should place one in the public service. Minis 
tries and public offices appear to be overloaded with subordinates 
of every conceivable nationality. As a rule, the responsible 
heads of departments are Englishmen, but among the clerks more 
French than British subjects are found, and official correspond 
ence is couched in French or Arabic. Salaries seem strangely 
out of proportion. Cabinet members are paid $15,000 a year, 
and under-secretaries $7,500 twice what Washington officials 
receive. Offices are open only in the forenoon, and five hours is 
the official day's work. In that halcyon period known as " the 
good old days," there were more civil servants in Egypt than in 
Great Britain, with five times the population. Thorough reform 
has yet to be accomplished, in the opinion of the economist. 

The " international " aspect of Egypt is a hindrance to prac 
tical economy, say many. The Commission of the Debt, for 
illustration, brings to Cairo delegates of the powers which are the 
country's creditors. Each is paid a salary of $10,000 by the 
Khedivial Government for watching the interests of his country 
men, who hold bonds quoted at a handsome premium. Having 
no voice in fixing the rate of interest or the amounts going to the 
different countries, it occurs to the reformer that a competent 
accountant could perform the service of these six men, with a 
great saving to the taxpayer. Also, the railway system of less 
than eleven hundred miles, is managed by three princely-paid men, 
acting for England, France and Egypt. Similarly, the spirit of 
internationalism dominates the Daira Sanieh, State Domains, and 
other divisions of the government, and aggregates a mighty draft 
on the exchequer. But the customs and post office departments, 
each with a single head, are models of perfection. 

A striking feature of railway management in Egypt is that 
only 43 per cent, of the receipts go for operating expenses. 
Native labor and moderate speed of ordinary trains make this 


possible. The governmental railways last year carried 0,827,813 
passengers, and receipts from all sources were $8,870,000. By 
reason of sweeping reductions in fares the number of passengers 
has been doubled in six years. Two years hence all-rail travel 
will be possible from the Mediterranean to the first cataract of 
the Nile. 

Augmentation of winter travel to the Nile is helping the lot of 
the Egyptian materially. Last season's pleasure and health- 
seekers, 7,500 in number, distributed $5,000,000 in the country, 
half of which came from Americans. 

The purchasing power, held to be indicative of a nation's 
pecuniary condition, has kept pace with other statistics. In 1882 
the imports were valued at $32,127,650 ; in 1890, $40,409,635 ; 
and 1894, $46,330,000. Exports for the same years cotton, 
cotton seed, grain and sugar were valued at $54,977,850, $59,- 
373,490 and $59,420,000 respectively. Over fifty per cent, of the 
foreign commerce is with Great Britain. The cotton crop, 
wholly exported, produces nearly $45,000,000. Of this, the 
United States buys about $3,000,000 worth annually. The ton 
nage at the port of Alexandria has nearly doubled since 1882. 
Last year the arrivals represented 2,221,145 tons. That of French 
ships has multiplied at a rate unequalled by any other flag. 

There has been vast improvement in the morale of the Egyptian 
army, and it is now as well disciplined and efficient as when Gen 
eral Stone and his American associates placed it on a stable foot 
ing a quarter of a century ago. It comprises 15,000 men, but 
with the military police as an adjunct in emergencies, the full 
strength is 21,000. Soldiers are conscientiously looked after, 
well clothed and fed, and hygiene is considered. The commander 
and seventy-six other officers are " borrowed " from the British 
Government and paid twice the amount of their home salaries. 
The common soldier gets only five cents a day. In the towns the 
practice is general to purchase immunity from conscription, cost 
ing $100 a man, which adds considerably to the war office funds. 
The British Army of Occupation, garrisoning Cairo and Alexan 
dria, numbers 4,200 men of all grades. Its status must be that 
of a component part of the Khedive's forces, although there is 
misconception regarding the matter. The red coats are in Egypt 
on liberal financial terms, for Egypt pays only the difference be 
tween the cost of home and foreign service. This is about $435,000 


a year. The British Government's share is about $1,250,000 
annually. There can be no monetary loss to the country in which 
they are quartered, for most of the soldiers spend all their pay, 
England's and Egypt's money as well. How long the arrange 
ment is to be maintained is a problem which, like the fine dis 
tinctions between "occupation" and "protection," can only be 
treated by one writing of political Egypt. 

To carry on the government requires about $50,000,000 a 
year. It was more in times when budget-making was the merest 
guesswork, and deficiencies could be explained by the convenient 
phrase "insufficiency of receipts." The Budget of the current 
year allows expenditures of $48,000,000, and is based upon re 
ceipts of $51,300,000. Any balance will be divided equally be 
tween the governmental sinking fund and a reduction of the debt. 
The heaviest outlay is for interest on foreign indebtedness, $18,- 
854,185, while the annual tribute to the Sultan consumes $3,325,- 
205 more. The Khedive, khedivial family, and palace expenses 
coming under the head of "Civil List," jcall for $1,169.305. To 
maintain the army and military police costs $2,381,085, and civil 
and military pensions $2,150,000 more. 

Direct taxation on land, date trees, etc., produces $25,000,- 
000, the balance of revenue being made up by ' indirect 
taxes " customs receipts (eight per cent, on imports and one 
per cent, on exports), profit from the salt monopoly, stamp 
duties, receipts from railways, post offices, telegraphs, ports and 
courts of justice. 

A reform of the greatest importance now in progress, is the ad 
justment of inequalities in the land tax, the present scheme be 
ing full of anomalies. It is not unusual to find land rented at 
$30 and $35 per acre paying only $2.50 in taxes. In olden times 
there was no rule for its collection, and the collector went pre 
pared to take from the farmer every penny his crops had pro 
duced, and then flog him into borrowing on mortgage any addi 
tional sum his rapacious master felt in need of. There was no 
pretense of fairness, and not until Tewfik's reign was a receipt 
of any kind given the peasant to show he had paid his taxes and 
that no more was due for the current year. Simple as it was, 
nothing more potent for alleviating the position of the masses 
was ever inaugurated. It was a reform that benefited every tiller 
of the soil, and was operative before " the coming of the English." 


The scheme of taxation now in force is arbitrary and inequit 
able. A definite tax is specified for large tracts, which some of 
the land only is capable of paying. The work in hand is to base 
this schedule upon rental values, that each acre may be assessed 
commensurately with its producing capacity. The country is 
promised that the total tax $23,900,000 on the 5,237,200 acres 
of cultivated soil is not to be increased. This means that the 
small holder is to pay less per acre, and the pasha landlord, once 
powerful enough to have his thousands of acres assessed at what 
ever he chose, will pay more proportionately. The glaring in 
equalities had been brought into prominence by the low prices of 
crops, and it had become imperative to devise a remedy. 

It will surprise American farmers to know that their brethren 
in ancient Egypt, some of them, pay a land tax of $8.20 per 
acre annually, and that the average tax for the country is $4.56 
per acre. This maximum tax is on lands in the Delta, possess 
ing such exceptional richness that five hundredweight or more of 
cotton per acre is produced each year with comparative certainty. 

The land tax has ever been the millstone about the neck of 
the Egyptian, sapping his energies and stunting his intellectual 
growth. The ancestors of the peasant now toiling from long be 
fore sunrise until after sunset, nearly every day in the year, have 
been farmers since the world began. What has their incessant 
toil produced ? Nile farmers have ever been wretchedly poor, 

To day's prosperity of the fellah, permitting him to have a 
few dollars after harvesting, to eat meat occasionally, and seek 
recreation at religious fairs, is of recent origin and slow growth. 
It began with the introduction of tax receipts, and has been nur 
tured at intervals by trifling reductions in taxation, as the area 
has been added to by irrigation at a rate in excess of the govern 
ment's pecuniary needs. 

Being humanely treated, the Egyptian to-day realizes that he 
is a human being, and it is the opinion of those capable of judg 
ing, that more has been done in the last fifteen years for him 
than ever before in a century. Tewfik Pasha inaugurated the 
good work, and the administration, hea<. .ed by Abbas Pasha, is 
carrying it forward with intelligent perseverance. 

The country's obligations to European creditors are suffi 
ciently menacing to compel the small farmer to keep out of the 


clutches of the money-lender at his gates, if he can. Neverthe 
less, the indebtedness secured by farm mortgages is greater than 
it should be, and critics allege this as certain proof that the 
boasted prosperity of the country is fictitious, and exhibit 
statistics to coincide with their argument. Critics of another 
sort array figures calculated to show that the aggregate mortgage 
indebtedness is very small, less than $40,000,000, and that it is 
the large holders owning from fifty acres upwards who have 
pledged their property ; and, further, that they have done this 
to buy more land, confident of an appreciation of values. It is a 
fact that the proportion of small holders borrowing by mortgage 
is trifling, and they are the people whose welfare first deserves 

It is claimed that less than nine per cent, of the land bears 
mortgages, the aggregate indebtedness amounting to $8 an acre. 
An average value of the cultivated soil is thought to be $115 an acre. 

Headers of mathematical mind, discovering that the foreign 
indebtedness represents definitely $97.17 on every acre of produc 
tive soil, and adding the $8 of home burden (probably under 
stated), find that but little equity remains to the Egyptian, who 
for more than seven thousand years has been the most industrious 
and light-hearted of husbandmen. Simply speaking, it means 
an equity of only $10 an acre ; or, each inhabitant averaging three- 
quarters of an acre of productive earth, a remaining "margin" 
of $7.50 per person. And his energy must not flag for genera 
tions to come, lest his fellow-creature in enlightened Europe be 
in arrears over his interest on " Egyptians." Blessed be Allah ! 

Egypt presents a striking example of a Mussulman country 
possessing a system of laws harmonizing with European and 
Western world civilization. Its international tribunals are un 
paralleled in the great domain of civil law, yet comparatively 
little seems to be known of them outside the Levant. 

The ' ' capitulations," or treaties, between the Christian powers 
and the Ottoman Empire regulating the privileges of foreigners 
within the Turkish dominions, some of which are many centuries 
old, occasioned so much confusion of jurisdiction in Egypt, where 
so many Christian nationalities were represented, that Nubar Pasha 
called the attention of Ismail to the necessity for some reform, 
and himself drew up a project which was communicated to all the 
governments having representatives in Egypt. 


As a result an International Commission assembled in 1869, 
under the presidency of Nubar, who was Minister of Foreign 
Affairs, and united in a report recommending the scheme. This 
was signed by the representatives of the United States, Austria,. 
Germany, England, France, Kussia and Italy. At subsequent 
conventions Belgium, Spain, Holland, Greece, Portugal, Den 
mark and Sweden-Norway approved the plan. On June 28th, 
1875, Khedive Ismail inaugurated the Court at Alexandria, 
although it was not until February 1st, 1876, that the new system 
of jurisprudence was actually launched. 

The procedure is practically that of France, the Code Napo 
leon, modified to suit the circumstances of a country where local 
custom and religious obligations must be respected. The juris 
diction is stated in this extract from the Code itself : 

" The new tribunals shall have cognizance of all controversies in matters 
civil or commercial between natives and foreigners, or between foreigners 
of different nationalities. Apart from questions touching the statut per 
sonnel (questions of wills, succession, heirship and the like, which are regu 
lated by the laws of the country of the individual), they shall have cogni 
zance of all questions touching real estate between all persons, even though 
they belong to the same (foreign) nationality." 

It is of good augury for the national progress that the Tri 
bunals have won the confidence of both natives and foreigners, 
and that the government bows to their authority. Europe 
needed no better proof of their efficacy than when Ismail and the 
government itself were brought before the Court of Appeal as 
defendants, having failed to meet obligations to foreign creditors. 

An idea of the work of the Tribunals is given in the statistics 
of their labors from February 1, 1876, to October 31, 1894, show 
ing that 135,555 suits had been instituted, and 130,449 termi 
nated by decision. Thousands of suits have been concluded 
without decision by arbitration or withdrawal. In addition to 
final decrees, many thousands of intermediate judgments and de 
crees have been pronounced ; and all have to be written out, not 
only as to terms, but motives justifying the conclusion of the 
court also. 

The practice is common for a native having an important suit 
to assign his interest to a foreign friend, to give the Interna 
tional Courts jurisdiction of his cause, thus securing intelligent 
and fair consideration. Two years since, when some of the powers 
were dilatory in giving their adhesion to the extension of the 


courts for every five years there is a formal renewal something 
like a panic occurred among the commercial community. 

Courts of First Instance are located at Cairo, Alexandria and 
Mansourah, and the Court of Appeal is at Alexandria. The 
minimum pecuniary limit of appeal is $400. Three languages 
are recognized in pleadings and documents French, Italian and 
Arabic. The foreign counsellors of the appellate court, nine in 
number, receive a yearly salary of $9,250 each, and their four 
native colleagues half as much. For the three lower courts 
twenty-seven foreign judges are employed, each receiving a salary 
of $7,000, their fourteen native coadjutors receiving half as 
much. Five fudges three foreign and two native sit at a time. 
The United States, like other great powers, have one representative 
in the upper, and two in the lower courts. While the Tribunals 
were not intended to be profit-earners, their receipts for years 
have been considerably in excess of expenses. 

England's participation in the affairs of Egypt has not been 
felt in the Mixed Courts, where the English language and law 
are unknown. It is claimed there has never been occasion for 
British influence to show itself, the institution being strictly in 
ternational, with thirteen other nations watchful of their rights. 
Consular courts still have criminal jurisdiction, in accordance 
with the original "capitulations" of the Sublime Porte. 

The lay investigator meets many obstacles in an attempt to un 
derstand the procedure of the Native Tribunals, of which there 
are seven at populous points, with a Court of Appeal at Cairo, 
and many summary courts. Almost every variety of law is dealt 
in organic, Koranic, usage, etc. Nearly 32,000 cases were de 
cided last year in these courts. 

It is the veriest fiction of thought that the Egyptian himself is 
being Europeanized, as one learning of the Egyptian administra 
tive policy might infer. He is being superficially modernized 
only, which he does not object to so long as his beloved religion 
is not molested. At heart he is as unchangeable as the sphinx, 
and Islamism must ever dwell on the banks of the Nile. 




ON" viewing briefly the history of the grain trade for the last 
three decades, which measure nearly the limit of the writer's ex 
perience, the chief difficulty encountered is not that of calling to 
mind the many prominent changes, developments and their most 
important effects, but of giving full credence thereto ; and this in 
the face of personal knowledge of many of them and of authentic 
statistical corroboration of many more. In no previous thirty 
years of this country's history has such phenomenal progress been 
made in all that pertains to man's material welfare progress so 
far beyond any precedent that we are tempted to believe there can 
be no counterpart in the future. 

In this article we shall consider the word " trade " not merely 
in the ordinary significance of traffic, but in the broader sense, 
inclusive of production and consumption. 

The first effect of an extended and cheapened telegraphic ser 
vice was the seeming drawing nearer to each other of the grain 
importing countries of Europe and the exporting countries of 
America, Asia, Australia, and Argentina, resulting in an almost 
complete abandonment of the old and since Europe's infant 
commercial days established custom -of procuring and storing 
supplies several months in advance of their requirements. A 
hand-to-mouth system was adopted, purchases were made by 
cable, and time of shipment arranged to meet the wants of the 
European miller and corn factor. This new method brought 
about in time keener competition and reduced commissions or 
profits to the exporter, the importer, and the European factor. 

The differences in value between the markets of consumption 
and those of production narrowed to an unprecedented extent, 
and this narrow margin for expenses and profit has, in exceptional 


instances, continued ever since, and bids fair to continue indefi 
nitely. This reduction in the cost of delivered grain inures, of 
course, chiefly to the consumer's advantage. 

It is an anomalous condition of things commercial, but never 
theless generally true, that the more grain there is to be trans 
ported the less are the per-bushel-earnings of the inland and ocean 
carrier. The solution lies in the fact that, as a rule, large crops 
produce low prices, consequent upon supply being in excess of 
demand; and low freights are the usual accompaniment of low 
prices. The converse of this proposition is generally a commer 
cial fact. 

The railroads of late years have entered so keenly into com 
petition with the Lake routes for the grain traffic that, to meet 
this speedy, effective, and cheap land transportation, the con 
struction of steam vessels and tows of very large capacity and in 
creased speed, became imperative. These lake leviathans require 
in the aggregate but few men for their management, and being 
run at very small expense, compared with other tonnage differ 
ently constructed, or, when their immense capacity is considered, 
have been able not only to successfully compete with land tran 
sit, but to make such minimum rates of freight as to result in 
driving from the traffic if not from the lakes vessels of small 
tonnage, and in placing a permanent embargo upon their further 

Freights have fallen from an average range on the lakes of 
7-15c. to l-3c. ; on the ocean, from 10-15c. to 2-6c. ; and all 
rail to the seaboard from 30-45c. to 9-15c. per bushel. 

The adoption of the hand-to-mouth policy by our millers and 
dealers (and this same policy governs their customers and their 
customers' customers, until the purchaser of the 10-pound bag 
of flour is reached) is largely due to the narrow margin of profit 
generally obtainable. This profit is not very infrequently, par 
ticularly in large transactions, so small and unremunerative that 
a reversal of the old system is very often the safer course. Sale 
is made by the miller of his product, and by the dealer of grain 
or flour, before the purchase is effected. What can better illus 
trate the radical change a few short years have effected in busi 
ness methods than we here find, in that, what at as late a period 
as the 70's was deemed hazardous gambling, indulged in by a few 
and frowned upon by a vast majority, is now commended and 


preferred by the most conservative. In fact, it is this class who 
most frequently make sale of property not at the time in their 
possession nor owned by them. 

We well remember how very slow Europeans were to take ad 
vantage of the above noted method of protection against loss of 
moment on their purchases, even when strongly adverse markets 
with them offered the most convincing motive. But these theo 
retic moralists are to-day, and of late years have been, among the 
largest " wind '" operators on our exchanges, and, more than 
that, have transferred flourishing twigs from this indigenous 
American speculative plant to their own shores. 

Paralleling to some extent in importance and degree, the phe 
nomenal increase in grain area and production in the United 
States, has been the decline thereof in England since 1869, when 
free trade in wheat and all other farm products was first fully es 
tablished. In that year about 97 per cent, of England's popula 
tion, viz.: 18 millions out of a total of 19 millions, were fed 
upon English home-grown wheat. In 1890, with a population 
of 25 millions, only 5 millions were supplied with English wheat, 
a falling off of 77 per cent. 

The decrease in wheat acreage in 40 years, from 1846 to 1886 
was nearly 66 per cent., viz.: from 3| million acres to 1,200,000 
acres. This decline is not attributable to exhaustion of wheat 
lands, for the average yield continued to be, and still is, about 
28 bushels per acre, against 12^ in the United States, 16 in 
France, 11 in Germany, 8 in Russia and 10 in Italy. ' ' It is al 
most certain that the wheat area (English) will be the smallest in 
a century" (Mark Lane Express, October 15, 1894). A better 
appreciation, by the general reader, of the extent of the disaster 
resulting from a falling off in home crops sufficient in 1869 to 
feed 97 per cent, of population, to crops competent to supply 
only 20 per cent, in 1890, can be gathered from the following 
data obtained from figures furnished by ( ' Her Majesty's Com 
missioner of Customs." 

In 1890, the imports of the United Kingdom of wheat, wheat- 
meal and flour amounted in value to 270 millions of dollars. Total 
imports of farm products, live animals included, in the same 
year reached the enormous total of 555 millions of dollars, or 
more than one-third of the whole value of British exports of all 
classes for the said year, and at the rate of about 14 dollars per 


capita. These enormous importations appear incredible when 
we consider that the British Isles have about 45 millions of acres 
of arable land to maintain less than 40 millions of people being 
over 1J acres for each inhabitant. 

The estimated British imports, wheat and flour, for 1895 are 
189, 799,680 bushels, against 152,474,000 in 1890, and 119,894,431 
in 1877. 

In most striking and, to us, most gratifying contrast to the 
above truly appalling figures is the exhibit of our agricultural 
condition made by ex-President Harrison in his last annual mes 
sage. We quote as follows : ff The value of total farm products has 
increased from $1,363,646,866 in 1860 to $4,500,000,000 in 1891, 
as estimated by statisticians an increase of 230 per cent." The 
total farm value of grain, hay, potato and tobacco products alone 
reached in 1894 the enormous total of $1,630,861,632, with prices 
at minimum figures. The average annual increment from 1821 
to 1890 is stated at $901,000,000. The wealth added in the thirty 
years 1860 to 1890 was forty-nine milliards more than the total 
wealth of Great Britain. Agricultural wealth has been quadrupled 
in forty years, and urban wealth has multiplied sixteen-fold. 

When, in addition to the enormous decrease in England's 
acreage, we reflect upon the low wheat values which, with oc 
casional exceptions, have ruled during the past four years 
notably this year the impoverishment of the English farmer de 
pendent upon grain products can be, in a measure at least, im 
agined. He is favored with a high average yield and low wages, 
but these advantages are more than offset by high rentals and 
low prices. The excess of price which he obtains beyond that of 
the American farmer is by radical reduction in through trans 
portation, inland and ocean, very greatly less than that prevail 
ing a comparatively few years ago. While the American farmer 
pays higher wages, he pays less of them, through the substitution 
of steam and horse machinery for manual labor. Again, his land 
freehold, the price paid per acre for his land in the far West and 
Northwest, is in many instances less than the leasehold of his 
English competitor. This the latter pays yearly, the former but 
once. Statistics show that the 1 rmer in England pays in rental, 
taxes, and poor rates about $14 per year on every acre of wheat 
land ; and the wheat producer of America who rents his farm pays 
on an average in rental and taxes only about $2 per acre. 


The lowest price for English wheat recorded in 104 years was 
17s. 7d., or 52c. per bushel in October, 1894, against $1.78i, aver 
age in 3873, and $1.2% average for 21 years 1873 to 1893. The 
average price in each decade for 250 years 1640 to 1890 was 
$1.53 per bushel. The highest in this period was $3.79-J, in 1812. 
In 1243 the price ruled as low as 2s. per quarter, or 6c. per 
bushel, and in 1597 as high as $3.12. In this connection we give 
the following extract from an English journal : " A national con 
ference of British agriculturists was lately held in London, 
attended by representatives of nearly every organization of 
farmers in the kingdom. A dispatch says that doleful tales were 
interchanged among the farmers present of farms being deserted, 
the soil untilled, and agriculture brought to the verge of ruin. 
The Right Hon. Henry Chaplin aid he feared the oldest indus 
try in the country was near supreme disaster ; that the public 
had no idea of the gravity of the crisis, and that the constant and 
apparently limitless fall in prices had brought ruin to thousands 
of persons. When he mentioned protection as a possible remedy 
the word was received with wild cheering, and he was cheered 
with even greater enthusiasm when he said that if he were com 
pelled to choose between ruin of farming and protection, he would 
choose protection." 

What of the English miller in his race with the American for 
the English trade? The positively incredible increase in our ex 
ports of flour the past few years an increase so startling as to in 
vite the skepticism of even those conversant with shipping sta 
tisticsaffords ample answer to the above query. That the 
American has proved an undoubted victor figures demonstrate 
beyond question. 

The total exports of flour in the two fiscal years 1892-93 and 
1893-94 were 33,479,870 barrels (sacks classified as barrels), of 
which 20,349,039 went to Great Britain. 

A factor in favor of the* American miller is his incurring of 
through freight only upon the net product, whereas his com 
petitor, who imports foreign wheat, necessarily incurs freight 
upon the net product and upon the offal from the wheat also. 

Another favorable factor is found in the reduced ocean freight 
obtainable upon flour shipped in bags of various sizes instead of 
barrels, by reason of the much greater facility for stowage of the 
former. Further benefit of this method of shipment is derived 


from the increased demand from dealers in Great Britain and 
Continental Europe for packages of sizes to suit individual pur 
chasers, large and small, and also from a saving of expense of 
extra handling and packing, inseparably connected with barrel 

We may therefore justly infer that the conditions, present and 
prospective, of the English miller, through the competition of his 
keen-edged rival, may be in not a few instances even worse than 
that of his farmer-countrymen ; the latter can, and in very many 
shires has, let his farm ''go to grass/' and with some resultant 
profit ; while the former, having no alternative course, may find 
that, try as he may, " 10 mills do not make a cent." 

The American agriculturist, who, in company with agricul 
turists the world over, has suffered the penalty of over-production, 
can trace a large portion of his own trouble to his own door. 
Unlike the more scientific European or Canadian farmer, who 
saves his soil by rotation of crops, the American maintains an 
unbroken monotony of wheat-raising, to the impoverishment 
alike of his land and of himself. Wheat in the Chicago market 
has fallen from an annual average of $1.11^ for twenty-six years 
1867 to 1892, to a minimum of 54 cents in 1893, 50 cents in 1894, 
and 49 cents in January, 1895. 

Verily, a knotty problem of the future is not the one agitated 
a few years ago : " How shall the nations of the world be fed ? " 
but, " What shall be done with the surplus that the nations pro 
duce ? " There is a limit to the consumption, to the bread wants 
of the people of the inhabited portions of this globe of ours ; but 
statisticians have been unable to define the extent of the capa 
bility of production, particularly of countries of continental 
area such as America, India, Russia, Argentina, Australia, and 

Exceptional partial crop failures, such as lately recorded in 
Argentina and now threatened in America, offer some temporary 
solution of the problem. Through such influences accumulated 
surpluses can be reduced. 

The aggregate production of those, which in the writer's youth 
were termed "the great wheat -producing States/' the wheat belt 
of the country, would now afford a subject for merriment to the 
"Farmer Princes" of the far West, the possessors of farms each 
of which yields an output greater than that of counties in the 


olden times. Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, 
with her universally known fruitful Genesee Valley, Ohio, 
Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky, have been shorn of many of their 
wheat laurels. " Westward the star of empire takes its way." 
The control of the future destinies of this country will be deter 
mined by the nation's majority whose dwellings will be west of the 
Mississippi; and thitherward has already travelled the " wheat 

One of the greatest anomalies, probably the greatest, in the 
grain trade, is that the measure of value is determined by the 
comparatively small quantity that is shipped, and that the much 
greater quantity that is consumed at home is no more of an actual 
factor in the foreign market than if it did not exist. The first 
conclusion after consideration of this matter would very naturally 
be as follows : For the goods we send to the European market, in 
which we are aware we shall find competition from other sellers 
from other countries, of articles of the same or approximate 
quality to our own, for these goods we must accept the best bid 
obtainable and rest content therewith. But that the European 
prices should determine, should definitely and arbitrarily fix 
American values, that the less factor should control the greater, 
is an incongruity difficult for many to comprehend or with which 
to become reconciled. The burden of the complaint of the pro 
ducing, milling, trading, and transporting interests is that the 
''verdict of values" is rendered in a foreign, competitive, con 
sumers' market, where the preponderance of interest and of 
influence is on the side of low prices. That the classes named 
are the chief sufferers from low markets, and the home and foreign 
consumers the beneficiaries, "goes without saying." This foreign 
dictation is therefore by no means an unmixed evil ; in fact, 
those benefited are the great majority, and that there is no remedy 
is evident. The surplus of exporting countries must always 
determine, home values, and this surplus must be disposed of in 
the world's markets. 

And what of the cotton producer ? Does he escape the foreign 
yoke ? By no means. The American cotton market quotations 
are virtually made in Liverpool ; the smallest fractional vibration 
of the " speculative pendulum " there meets with instant re 
sponse on our exchanges. 

The list is not yet complete. England, the wealthiest of all 


nations, and, with her colonies, the most extended, and the most 
ambitious for further extension, not content with controlling 
the values of our farm products, has sought, and in many in 
stances with signal success, to largely influence if not control the 
products of many of our railways and also of numbers of our 
manufacturing industries. 

This she accomplishes, and it must be admitted fairly and 
honorably, by the purchase of large blocks of the stocks of these 
different corporations. This barter or exchange is mutually 
acceptable. America wants the British gold and England wants 
more remunerative investments than can be found at home. 

While it is true that the London stock market has by no 
means the effective or the continuous influence on the New York 
Stock Exchange that the English grain and cotton markets have 
on the American, and that at frequent times New York is the 
dominant force, it is undeniable that in no inconsiderable portion 
of each year our prices of leading railway and other stocks 
and bonds which are listed on the London Board are largely, if 
not wholly, controlled there. England, scores of years ago, 
earned for herself the proud title of s ' Mistress of the Seas "; has 
she not by peaceful methods also earned the title of " Mistress of 
the World's Export Markets ?" 

Lack of space prevents the discussion in this article of the 
following topics : The merits and demerits of the method of 
trading in grain for future delivery as evidenced in its practical 
workings ; some of the probable effects of the present system of 
publication of weekly and monthly Governmental and State re 
ports (of more or less questionable accuracy) of the " conditions " 
of the growing crops from the time the seed is sown until the har 
vest is complete ; the effects of the full information given to the 
" consuming world" of the actual quantities of grain in our store 
houses, coupled with approximate estimates of the surplus left in 
producers' hands ; and prominent features connected with the 
almost complete abolition of the at one time universal and cen 
turies-old custom of the sale and purchase of grain and flour 
through commission merchants, or agents who have been sup 
planted by principals, with whom profit and loss, not commissions, 
are the reward. 

The system of purchasing and selling grain for future delivery 
was introduced, if we recollect aright, in the latter part of the 


60's. We recall, as if it were yesterday, the first transaction 
made on our Toledo Exchange ; how, with " bated breath and 
startled ears/' the members heard the offer and acceptance by the 
Presidents of two National banks, of a contract for the delivery 
of 5,000 bushels of wheat at a stated price during the following 
month. How little we then realized how familiar in a few short 
years yes, it may be said in a few months we would become 
with such really legitimate and lawful transactions ; how wide 
spread, in fact, universal, they would become, and what a mo 
mentous influence for the welfare of mankind they would exert 
on the commerce of the world. 

The disastrous effects to this agricultural country of the late 
panic would have been intensified several fold by the enforced 
cash marketings from the crop of 1893 and from the immense 
wheat surpluses left over from the excessive crops of 1891 and 
1892 which enforced marketings became imperative by reason 
of the impecunious condition of the farming community as a 
whole had not the system of trading in grain for future delivery 
established speculatively higher future prices, which induced 
capitalists to assume and carry the burden of the large stocks 
in all our leading markets. Elevator proprietors and other 
moneyed men made equivalent cash purchases and future sales, 
which protected and benefited them, and to an immense degree 
protected and benefited the farming community, and, in fact, 
the whole country. 

Kadical abuses, such as grain " corners," undue speculation 
and its attendant evils, have been occasional and unavoidable 
accompaniments of this modern system, but these abuses form 
no basis for argument against the method itself. 

The use or abuse of any factor for the good of mankind is 
simply man's treatment of God's gifts. 


NOTE. Since the writing of this article, a deficiency of sufficient magnitude in 
the wheat crops of America and of the world has become so definitely assured as to 
promise the, at least temporary, restoration^ values to a level approximating and, 
possibly, greatly above the cost of production. Such a radical change, while fraught 
with serious injury to many producers and consumers, would prove of incalculable 
benefit to the world at large. E. R. W. 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 



IT is important to understand clearly and exactly what the 
free coinage of silver under present conditions means. It may be 
defined as the right of anyone to deposit silver of any kind at a 
mint of the United States, and have every 371J grains of pure silver 
(now worth in its uncoined state about 52 cents) stamped, free 
of charge, " One Dollar/' which dollar shall be a full legal-tender 
at its face value in the payment of debts and obligations of all 
kinds, public and private, in the United States. 

(1) Such an act at this time would savor of national dis 
honesty. At the present value of silver one of our legal-tender 
dollars will purchase 716 grains of pure silver, nearly double the 
amount contained in a silver dollar. From the foundation of the 
government the effort of our fathers has been to establish a coin 
age ratio approximating as nearly as possible the commercial value 
of the precious metals. The first coinage act (1792) authorized 
the mintage of gold and silver coins at the proportion of 1 of 
gold to 15 of silver, which was believed to be about the com 
mercial value of the metals at that period. Gold being under 
valued slightly, gold coins did not enter into circulation, and sil 
ver constituted the currency of the country. To remedy this in 
1834-37 the ratio was fixed at about 1 to 16 (exactly 1 to 15.98) 
which was believed to correspond more nearly to the commercial 
value of the two metals. The effort was always to approximate 
the commercial value of the two metals. 

Hamilton, in his Justly celebrated report on " The Establish 
ment of a Mint/' says : " There can hardly be a better rule in 
any country for the legal than the market proportion/' 

Jefferson said : " Just principles will lead us to disregard 
legal proportions altogether ; to inquire into the market price of 


gold in the several countries with which we shall principally be 
connected in commerce and to take an average from them. The 
proportion between the values of gold and silver is a mercantile 
problem altogether." 

It remained for these latter days to seriously suggest to the 
American people the unlimited mintage of coins of full-debt- 
paying power, worth intrinsically about one half the face value. 
In point of honesty there is no practical difference between 
stamping and issuing a coin with full debt-paying qualities as $1, 
which is really worth only 50 cents, and cutting a dollar in half 
and requiring everyone to accept the half as a dollar. No country 
can thrive by dishonesty and of all forms of national dishonesty 
the clipped or overvalued coin is the most ancient and most ob 

( 2) The inevitable result of the unrestricted coinage of silver 
by this country acting in monetary isolation would be to place 
our currency on a silver basis. This is recognized and admitted 
now by leading advocates of silver coinage. A distinguished 
United States Senator, a leader in the silver movement, speaking 
from his place in the Senate during the late currency debate, said : 
" We are threatened that if the present currency laws remain 
unchanged the country will soon be upon a silver basis. Perhaps 
that is true. I am somewhat inclined to think it is. This pros 
pect, however, has no terrors for the silver advocates. They are 
contending for both gold and silver, but if forced to choose be 
tween the two would greatly prefer silver." Heretofore the advo 
cates of silver coinage have insisted that the moment the mints 
were open to the free coinage of silver the unlimited demand 
would ipso facto maintain the parity at the coinage ratio. Now 
we have the frank admission that the free coinage of silver by 
this country means a silver basis for our currency. 

What does a silver basis mean? It means in the first instances, 
violent contraction of the currency by the withdrawal of gold 
coins and gold certificates from circulation. The stock of me 
tallic and paper money in tho United States is about $3,209,000,- 
000, every dollar of which, under our present standard, is as good 
as a gold dollar and practically interchangeable with gold. The 
law makes it the imperative duty of the Secretary of the Treasury 
to " maintain the two metals on a parity with each other " and 
provides the necessary means to accomplish it, the pledge of the 


public credit. With free silver coinage the obligation both 
moral and legal upon the government to "maintain the two 
metals on a parity " would end. The immediate result would be 
the destruction of the parity, the separation of our currency be 
tween gold and silver, and the withdrawal of $676,000,000 of 
gold from circulation and use as money. This enormous con 
traction of the money which is the basis of our currency system 
would unsettle business, impair credits, destroy values, and pro 
duce the most tremendous financial disturbance which this coun 
try has ever witnessed. 

After the first shock, the effects of which no man can fully fore 
see, when values had adjusted themselves to existing conditions, 
a silver basis means that the paying power of our money in for 
eign exchanges would be depreciated to the commercial value of 
the silver in our dollars, whatever that may be. "We have a per 
fect illustration close at hand in our near neighbor, Mexico, of a 
country on a settled silver basis, with unrestricted gold and sil 
ver coinage. The Mexican dollar, although it contains more sil 
ver than our dollar, has a purchasing power in foreign exchanges 
equal only to its commercial value as bullion. The same is true 
of the currency of every country which is on a silver basis. 
Tliere is no country in the world to-day where silver is minted 
into legal-tender coins where gold circulates as money. The 
commercial relations between European countries and our own are 
more intimate to-day than were the relations between the states 
of the Union prior to the Civil War. All Europe has practically 
the gold standard, and all international exchanges, whether with 
gold-standard or silver-standard countries, are settled on a gold 
basis. The great bulk of the foreign commerce of the United 
States is with countries having the gold standard. During the 
last fiscal year we exported to Europe merchandise of the value 
of $700,000,000, while we imported from the same countries 
merchandise of the value of $295,000,000. Between countries 
which use the same metal as money there is a par of exchange which 
varies only within well defined limits, regulated by the balance 
of trade. Between countries which use different metals as a 
measure of value there is at present no natural par because of the 
fluctuations in the commercial value of silver. Stability in the 
rates of exchange is of the very essence of commercial transac 
tions, especially commercial transactions based on credit. With- 


out this there is necessarily an uncertainty which it is impossible 
to eliminate and which complicates and deters business transac 
tions. In this lies the permanent evil of a silver basis for our 
money the uncertainty and fluctuations in tlie value of our cur 
rency as measured ~by tlie world's standard gold. What the 
purchasing power of our currency in domestic transactions would 
be would depend upon conditions which no one can foresee or 
accurately forecast. 

(3) If the mints of this country were open, under present 
conditions, to the unlimited coinage of silver into legal dollars, 
the United States would quickly become the dumping ground of 
the world's silver. The mints of Europe and India are closed to 
silver coinage. Aside from the mints of Mexico, Japan and a 
few South American countries, the stamp of whose mint adds 
nothing to the value of the coins, there is no actual demand for 
silver for coinage into full legal-tender money by civilized coun 
tries. Is it conceivable that the invitation to the owners of silver 
throughout the world to exchange 371 grains of silver, now 
worth fifty-two cents, for one of our legal-tender dollars would 
not be heeded? If our mints should be open to the free coinage 
of silver, the current product of silver would most certainly and 
swiftly find its way there. The annual product of silver at the 
present price, sixty-seven cents an ounce, approximates 162,000,000 
ounces, which would coin in silver dollars $209,000,000, a snug 
little profit to the owners of silver mines of over $100,000,000 on 
the present annual product only. If a price of sixty-seven cents 
an ounce brings forth a product of the coinage value of $209,- 
000,000, it is safe to say that with silver at $1.29 an ounce (our 
coinage rate) the output would be enormously increased. Mexico, 
South America, and many portions of this continent and Aus 
tralia abound with deposits of low grade lead ores in which silver 
is the metal of chief value, which ores cannot be profitably de 
silverized at the present commercial value of silver, but which 
would be opened up and their silver contents dumped into the 
treasury of the United States, with silver at $1.29 an ounce. But 
what of European stocks of silver? Gold is the standard of all 
Europe. Whether they are bimetallic in theory or monometallic, 
gold alone constitutes the measure of values in all continental 
countries. Many of the European countries have in their banks 
and treasuries large hoards of overvalued silver coins, coined in 


former years, which they would be glad to exchange for our gold. 
The Bank of France alone has in its vaults $250,000,000 of over 
valued silver coins. If the gold value of our legal-tender money 
remained undisturbed, the passage of a free coinage act by the 
United States would afford a splendid opportunity for such an 

If our mints should be open to the free coinage of silver under 
existing conditions, the stocks of silver would move to this 
country solely because they could be converted, at the highest 
market price, into our legal-tender money, which, in turn, could 
be converted into gold at par ; but the moment our currency 
reached a silver basis, when our legal-tender paper-money could 
be exchanged only for silver dollars, the profit to the foreign 
silver owner for the interchange of his silver for our gold would 
cease and silver would be imported only as an exchange transac 
tion, just as gold is now. 

(4) If we should exchange our stock of gold for a stock of 
silver, cut loose from the standard of all the great commercial 
countries with whom we do business, and ally ourselves to 
Asiatic and South American monetary systems, what would 
we gain ? One of two things would most certainly occur ; 
either our gold would be hoarded by banks, trust companies 
and individuals, or else would go abroad to pay for the silver 
shipped here for sale. In either case our currency would be 
depreciated and fluctuating in value to the embarrassment of 
business and the ultimate injury of the wage earner. The 
basis of our currency would be changed from gold to silver, 
but whether the increase in the volume of money the panacea 
for all our industrial ills promised by free silver advocates would 
be considerable, or the price of silver be permanently increased, 
is open to serious doubt. Just as long as it was profitable to ship 
silver to the United States that is, just as long as it would bring 
a higher price here than elsewhere silver would come, but it 
would not come when the shipment ceased to be profitable. If 
silver ceased to come here because it was not profitable to ship it 
and receive payment in dollars whose purchasing power was 
only equal to the commercial value of the metal contained 
in them, where would be the gain in the volume of our cur 
rency ? 

(5) It is said that the decline in prices which has occurred 


during the last twenty years, has been occasioned by the disuse 
of silver as money, and that if this country should resume the use 
of silver the value of all products would be increased and our pro 
ducers benefited. The decline in the prices of staples could not 
have arisen from any scarcity of metallic money, for the reason 
that there is nearly double the amount of metallic money in use 
in the world to-day that there was in 1860, the official esti 
mates of the coin stocks being $3,400,000,000 in I860, against 
$8,021,000,000 in 1894 (Report of Director of the Mint, 1894, 
pages 44,45). Nor could it have arisen from any disuse of silver 
money, for the reason that there is more silver money in use in 
the world now than the entire stock of metallic money in 1860, 
the figures for silver money being $4,055,000, 000 in 1894, against 
a total metallic stock in 1860 of $3,400,000,000. 

In our own country, where prices have declined as much as 
elsewhere, it is a fact shown by Treasury statements that we i.ot 
only have more money in actual circulation than ever before, net 
excepting the flush times of the War, but vastly more silver 
money. The circulation of the United States, exclusive of all 
Treasury holdings, was on June 1, 1895, $1,606,000,000, of which 
$550,000,000 was silver money. The per capita circulation was 
$23.02 against $18.04 in 1873, and $20.57 in 1865, the highest 
period of war inflation. Indeed, there is no country where the 
amount of actual money has diminished in recent years, but on 
the contrary, in addition to an increased stock of metallic and 
paper money the effort of civilization and one of its most bene 
ficial results, developed largely during the last twenty years, has 
been to minimize the use of actual money by providing substi 
tutes in the shape of checks, drafts, bills of exchange, telegraphic 
transfers and Clearing-House settlements. In proof of this may 
be cited the fact, shown by the the report of the Comptroller of 
the Currency, that over 95 per cent, of the business of the banks 
of this country is done by substitutes for money. 

Moreover, all the silver produced since 1873, except what is 
used in the industrial arts, has been converted into money either 
by actual coinage or the issue of legal-tender notes against the 
bullion held as reserve. This product has been enormous as com 
pared with prior periods, the period of high prices. The product 
of silver during the last twenty years has aggregated over $2,400,- 
000,000 in coining value while during the preceding twenty years 


it was only $948,000,000. The coinage of silver for the last twen 
ty years has aggregated $2,300,000,000. 

So that it is not true that the money of ultimate redemption, 
either gold or silver, has diminished since 1873, and consequently 
the argument based upon this mis-statement falls with it. 

It is impossible in the space allotted me to enter upon the 
question of the decline of prices, but it is sufficient to say that 
there is not one of the great staple commodities which has fallen 
largely in price where such decline cannot be readily traced to cir 
cumstances affecting the demand and the supply of the article 

Undoubtedly it might be possible, by making a dollar worth 
fifty cents, to bring about a condition of monetary affairs when it 
would take two dollars to buy what one will now purchase; but 
a more certain and expeditious way to depreciate the currency, if 
that is the aim, would be to start the government paper mills 
going and issue paper dollars. If prices are to be increased through 
the depreciation of the purchasing agent money, it certainly 
would not be an unmixed blessing. Unless wages increased in 
the same proportion as other commodities, it is evident that the 
wage earner would not be benefited. As shown by the report 
of the Senate Finance Committee wages averaged over thirty per 
cent, higher in 1891 than in 1860. According to the census of 
1890, the earnings of labor increased over forty per cent, as com 
pared with the prior census a period of ten years. If, therefore, 
the staple necessities of life have fallen largely in price in recent 
years, an immense advantage has been reaped by the wage earner. 
There never has been a period when the money paid the laboring 
man in this country would buy as much of the necessities of life 
as to-day. The greatest calamity which could possibly happen 
to him would be to double the price of the commodities which 
he must use by depreciating the value of the dollar in which he is 
paid. All persons living on fixed incomes would suffer severely. 
The deposits in the Savings Banks of the United States, owned 
by the laboring men and women, aggregate $1,800,000,000. 
These deposits have been made in money or bankable funds of the 
present standard of value and to-day are payable in money inter 
convertible with gold. Under free silver coinage every dollar of 
these deposits and the deposits in all the commercial banks of the 
country, aggregating the enormous sum of $4,000,000,000, could 


be paid and would be paid in legal dollars of about one-half the 
present purchasing value of the dollar. The value of every insur 
ance policy and every pension would, in the same way, be cur 
tailed one-half. 

Undoubtedly it would be of advantage to the debtor classes to 
be able to pay their debts in a depreciated currency, but this 
would be manifestly unfair, for the reason that all contracts 
entered into in this country since 1834 (when our currency was 
practically and purposely changed to a gold basis), certainly since 
1873, when gold was legally made the unit of value, are fairly 
payable in money of our present standard, and as they constitute 
the bulk of existing contracts it would be manifestly dishonest 
that they should be liquidated at half their present value. 

Behold the countries with free silver coinage, or the silver 
standard Mexico, South America and Asia and see the rates of 
wages there compared with wages in countries that have the gold 
standard ; see the " Prosperity arid Happiness (?) " there among 
the laboring classes compared with the wage earners of Europe 
and the United States, and surely no more practical and complete 
refutation of the theory that a silver currency would benefit our 
laborers and producers could possibly be adduced. 

The memorable words of the lamented Secretary Windom 
uttered with dying lips before the New York Board of Trade and 
Transportation are pregnant with truth : 

"The quality of circulation is even more important than the quantity. 
Numerous devices for enlarging credit may, and often do, avert the evils of 
a deficient circulation, and a redundancy may sometimes modify its own 
evils before their results become universal, but for the baleful effects of a 
debased and fluctuating currency there is no remedy, except by the costly 
and difficult return to sound money. As poison in the blood permeates 
arteries, veins, nerves, brains and heart, and speedily brings paralysis or 
death, so does a debased and fluctuating currency permeate all the arteries 
of trade, paralyze all kinds of business and bring disaster to all classes of 

The nation that undertakes to conduct its business with money 
of uncertain value is at a great disadvantage. In order to merit 
the confidence of the world and maintain our credit and reputa- 
tation as a country of the first class we must maintain our money 
system above all question, with all our currency redeemable on 
demand in the money which civilized countries have decided to 
do business with, gold. 

Only within a few months have we seen the threatening con- 


dition of affairs brought about by the doubt of the ability of the 
government to meet its obligations in gold on demand. The re 
moval of that doubt through the successful financiering of the 
Treasury by the existing Bond Syndicate has given such relief 
to currency conditions as to impart confidence to business 
which portends better times. Free silver coinage would replace 
the doubt of our ability to maintain gold payments by the cer 
tainty that we did not intend to. It would be a national disgrace 
as well as a national misfortune, which the people of this country 
will never submit to, to debase the money of this proud and pros 
perous republic to the standard of Mexico, South America and 
Asiatic countries. 





THE sheep has undergone more modifications at the hands of 
man than any other animal. All the rest of our domestic animals 
have proved their capacity to reassume the habits of their wild 
ancestors, but no once tamed sheep has taken to a life of inde 
pendence. This is at first surprising, because many kinds, such 
as the Scotch mountain sheep and those upon the high lands of 
Chili and Patagonia, manage to live and thrive with very little 
aid from their masters. Yet it is found that even the hardy 
Pampas sheep cannot hold its own when that aid is wanting. If 
man were to become extinct in South America the sheep would 
not survive him half a dozen years. There are three chief reasons 
for this, and all of them are of peculiar interest. 

In the first place, the sheep is, as a rule, a timid and defence 
less animal, and at the same time is neither swift nor cunning. 
It falls an easy prey to the meanest of the wolf tribe. A single 
coyote or a fox terrier dog could destroys flock of a thousand in 
a few days. Then it is found that the young lambs and their 
mothers require especial care and nursing. If they do not get 
it at the critical time the flock owner will lose them by the hun 
dred. It is a common thing in the South Downs for the shepherd 
not to leave his flock day or night during 'the whole lambing 
season. Lastly, scarcely any modern sheep shed their wool 
naturally, in the same way that the horse sheds his thick winter 

There was exhibited at the first great International Exposi 
tion, in 1851, a seven-year-old South Down ewe, which had never 


been shorn. Its enormous burden of wool hung to the ground, 
and it would have been about as capable of getting about as a 
man covered with a dozen thick frieze overcoats. It is quite 
plain that such a creature could not get its living in the open 
fields unless it were regularly shorn. 

Now, if we seek for an answer to the question " Where did 
the sheep get its wool from ? " we shall find an explanation also 
of the other two peculiarities which now prevent it from holding 
its own in the wild state. And we shall, in addition, be able to 
point out the chief reason why the animal was, in the first place, 
domesticated by man. 

The wool was of course developed primarily to protect the 
sheep from cold. But from what cold ? The cold of winter ? 
That can scarcely be, since the wool persists and continues grow 
ing all the year round. The cold of Arctic climates ? That also 
must be excluded, since no sheep, either tame or wild, thrives in 
the extreme North. On the contrary, in Australia and many 
other warm countries, the flocks flourish abundantly. Certain 
naturalists say that the so-called musk ox is really a sheep, but it 
is plain that that curious beast is a very distant relative of the 
familiar varieties. Neither this, nor any other Arctic animal, 
would long survive a removal to a sub-tropical region. 

If we study the various kinds of wild sheep all the world over, 
we at once find an answer to the question. Without exception 
they are dwellers upon high mountains. Some live almost among 
perpetual snow. The Bighorn inhabits the Kockies, the Moufflon, 
the mountains of Corsica, the gigantic Ovis Poli, the Argali and 
the Burrhel make their home upon the high ranges of Siberia and 
Thibet. On the grassy slopes and terraces they find sustenance, 
and among the giddy precipices above they take refuge when 
danger threatens them. They took to the hills in the first place, 
like the wild asses, because the fierce carnivora of the lowlands 
were too many for them. Their cousins, the antelopes and deer, 
were swift enough to hold their own on the plains, but the only 
chance of survival which was open to the more sluggish Ovidce 
was to take to the mountains. Many a human refugee, hunted 
by a human beast of prey, has had to do the same. Having once 
chosen their habitat, it was necessary that their instincts and 
structure should become adapted for the life of a mountaineer ; 
and throughout long ages, by the survival of those individuals 


best fitted to this kind of existence, and by the elimination or 
sifting out of the unfit, they have developed into what they now are. 

As a protection against the cold of high altitudes they grew a 
thick woolly covering beneath their long coarse hair. The need 
of mounting steep slopes with rapidity, and of propelling their 
heavy bodies by leaps among the rocks, caused the muscles of the 
hinder quarters to become stout and fleshy. To the former fact 
we owe our woolen clothing, and to the latter, the succulent 
"legs of mutton " which so often appear on our tables. 

Both the fleece and the meat have, of course, been greatly 
altered by human agency. Those sheep have constantly been 
chosen by breeders which fattened readily and which had the 
finest and most abundant wool. The coarse outer covering of 
hair disappeared ; although, as might be expected, it occasion 
ally shows itself. In the West India Islands, even imported 
South Down sheep become completely changed in appearance, 
for the wool is hidden by long brown hair. Each different breed 
of sheep, as the Cotswold, the Leicester, and the Merino, has 
wool of a different character. This is chiefly owing to artificial 
selection. The sheep breeders of Saxony, by picking out those 
animals which had the softest fleeces, soon produced a greatly 
improved supply of wool. They used the microscope to ascer 
tain which animals had wool of the finest fibre, and rejected all 
which did not come up to a certain standard. 

It is the fleece, then, which first brought the sheep into 
captivity, and it is the fleece that is chiefly instrumental in 
keeping him as a servant and dependent. It now grows so 
abundantly that he needs to be freed by the shears once a year, 
or the burden of it would overcome him. Imagine wearing two 
suits of winter clothing in July ! 

The other weak points of the sheep come from the facts that 
he has been by nature adapted for one special kind of life, and 
that we have now removed him from it. The conditions to which 
every atom of him had become exactly adjusted are changed, and 
it is hardly likely that he will be at home at all points under the 
new circumstances. For this reason the tame sheep, like the 
ass, appears a stupid animal. At critical times, such as when the 
young lambs are born, the unaccustomed surroundings may be 
fatal. It is this specialization, as the naturalists call it, which 
accounts for the extinction of many animals which used to be 


abundant. They become exactly fitted to one particular way of 
life, and unfitted for any other. If circumstances compel them 
to migrate, they die. 

Generally the race comes to an end through the parents not 
being able to rear their tender young, which naturally feel the 
stress of unfavorable new environment more than the adults. 
This is what would happen to the domestic sheep, if the shep 
herds were not to take such assiduous care of them in the lamb 
ing season. 

Now let us see what other relics of wild life can be found in 
the sheep. It is always, as I have said in a previous paper, worth 
while to examine immature animals, if we wish to find out the 
habits of their early ancestors. Young lambs have enormously 
developed legs and can run about smartly when only a few hours 
old. This at once suggests that they had to keep up with their 
parents when the flock moved from place to place, and were not 
hidden in secluded spots by their dams. They have a curious 
habit of following anything large and light colored which moves 
quickly away from them. A new born lamb will rush after a 
newspaper blown along by the wind, or, as Mr. Hudson says in his 
delightful book, The Naturalist in La Plata, they will persis 
tently gallop after a horseman on the Pampas. It is the old and 
most necessary instinct of following the flock when it was fleeing 
from an enemy, but the instinct is at fault in civilized regions. 

Doubtless on the tops of the Corsican or Thibetan mountains, 
both newspapers and horsemen are too rare to be taken account 
of in the formation of habits of self preservation. However white 
the fleeces of their elders may be, young lambs are usually of a 
dirty gray color, so as to harmonize with the rocks of their ances 
tral home. When at play, they always seek the steepest parts of 
the field, and if there is a rock or a log lying about, they will skip 
on to it and butt atone another, as if playing " King of the Castle. " 
If mountain or moorland sheep on a hillside are attacked by a dog, 
they will always, from choice, run diagonally up hill. Should a 
flock of Southdowns take alarm and break out from the fold at 
night, the shepherd knows that the place to find them is the 
highest ground in the neighborhood. If a dog enters a field 
where there are ewes and lambs, he is watched in the most sus 
picious manner, and at once attacked if he comes too near. Many 
a valiant puppy, who thought that sheep were poor spiritless 


things, has received treatment which astonished him when he 
strolled into the sheep pasture in the lambing season. 

Now, dogs are rarely dangerous to domestic sheep. The de 
termined hostility shown to them at such times is a relic of the 
old, wild instinct, when the horned flock on the mountain side 
defended their young against jackals, dholes and wolves. An 
angry ewe will stamp her foot when a dog comes within sight. 
This is probably a relic of an ancient method of signalling the 
approach of a foe. But it is also a threat; for many animals akin 
to the sheep use their sharp hoofs with terrible effect. Deer will 
destroy snakes by jumping on them and ripping them to ribands 
with outward strokes of their hoofs. Nearly all antelopes use 
this method of attack, and hunters have been killed by the hoofs 
of Nylghau, the great Himalaya antelope. 

A wild sheep in his native country -is no trifling antagonist. 
The horns of the Ovis Poli and Argali are enormous, and must 
be seen to be appreciated. Sir Joseph Hooker, the great botanist, 
says that in Thibet foxes have been known to make kennels in 
the hollow horns of the Argali ! This sounds rather a " tall " 
statement, and I confess I should much like to find one of these 
hermit-crab-like foxes at home ! 

Some Indian tame sheep are desperate fellows to fight, and 
are exhibited by native potentates matched against bulls and 
other animals. Phil Eobinson tells a story of a ram that was sent 
to the Calcutta Zoological Gardens, and, since he was of no value 
as a curiosity, the keepers thought that he would make a nice tid 
bit for a tiger. The sheep, however, being of a pugnacious 
disposition, "went for" the tiger as soon as he was put into the 
cage. The traveller goes on to tell, that after a sharp tussle the 
sheep killed the tiger ! Whether he ate him afterwards is not re 
lated, but one would not be surprised at anything in such a sheep 
as that ! 

The immense number of varieties of sheep, and the widely 
different characters they present, prove that they have been 
domesticated for a very long time. If the dog was the first ani 
mal tamed by man, the sheep was certainly the second. 

Naturalists are not agreed as to which of the wild species our 
modern sheep are descended from. I think it is probable that 
they owe their origin to several kinds, including the Moufflon, the 
Burrhel and the Argali. These, oddly enough, have short tails, 


like nearly all mountain animals the chief purpose of the tail 
among the herbivorous animals is to drive away flies, and on the 
windy heights these are not troublesome. Yet domestic sheep are 
born with long tails, and in spite of the practice of farmers and 
shepherds of cutting the tails short, they still persevere in grow 
ing them. Here are two problems for the rising generation of 
naturalists, who, of course, are incalculably smarter and more in 
telligent than the old fogies who have written on such subjects 
hitherto ! Why does the modern sheep grow a tail ? And why 
does a lamb wriggle his tail at meal times ? 

I have but little space left to discuss the goat. He is much 
less removed from his primitive free forefathers than the sheep. 
Tame goats have run wild all the world over where there are 
mountains. The goat is distinctly a climber among rocks. If 
the ancestor of the sheep grazed on the growing slopes, the wild 
goats lived high among the broken craggy sides of the mountain 
and browsed the sparse leaves of the shrubs in the clefts and 
crannies. As might be expected the young kids show greater 
agility than their more sedate elders. The goat is altogether a 
more slim and cleanly built animal than the sheep, even in the 
wild state. He is also more independent, showing that it was his 
habit to separate from his fellows when feeding, whereas the 
members of a flock of sheep keep together if possible and always 
follow their leaders when alarmed. 

Both animals set regular sentries on high spots to watch for 
the approach of enemies and these give signals to the others. 
Hence neither the sheep nor the goat needs the long ears of the 
donkey tribes. 

Probably those of my readers who have better opportunities 
for observing the habits of tame goats than I have, will be able 
to note many interesting points in their behavior which tell tales 
of the way of life of their predecessors who roamed the hills be 
fore our own primitive ancestors had developed sense enough to 
catch them and use them for their own purposes. 




EVER since the beginning of Liebig's agricultural writings, 
more than half a century ago, the quasi scientific world has been 
seeking means to turn the wastes of urban life into wealth ; and 
has been ascribing the downfall of empires to the pouring of those 
wastes into the sea. The less inexact science of these later days 
shows us how wastes sent into the sea come back to us in the form 
of fish and other sea products, to such an extent as to go at least 
very far toward the maintenance of general fertility in the land. 
We have not yet reached any very satisfactory knowledge as to the 
conversion of waste into wealth. While the theoretical value of 
discarded matters is recognized, the cost of recovery is still an ob 
stacle to its profitable development. 

In England, great sums have been lost during the past thirty 
years in the effort to get back the value of the fertilizing elements 
of sewage. It is now conceded by practical men that the very 
small amount of manure and the very large amount of water can 
not be separated at a profit. Sewage farming is often the best 
agent of sewage purification, and it may lessen the cost of sewage 
disposal ; but it cannot under any ordinary conditions be made to 
pay a profit. This long-hoped for source of wealth must be rele 
gated to the position of a very useful aid to economy. 

There are, however, other wastes of life which are not diluted 
with great volumes of water, and which seem to give a fair enough 
promise of profitable use to make it worth while to consider them 
and their possible value with a good deal of care, and to make 
them the subject of conclusive experiment. 

The experience of the City of New York in the matter of " scow- 
trimming " is suggestive. The scow-trimmers of New York 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 4 


are employed to distribute evenly over the vessels by which it is 
taken to sea to be dumped, the mass of garbage, ashes and street 
sweepings that is discharged upon them by the cartload amid 
a cloud of dust and often in quick succession. Under these diffi 
cult conditions, the Italian workmen fish out such as they can of 
the flying rags, bones, bottles, and other things of value that the 
material may contain. Each of the fifteen dumps is worked by its 
own gang for its own padrone, and these pay to the general con 
tractor enough more than he has to pay to the city to leave him a 
satisfactory profit. 

Up to about 1878 the city paid $10.50 per week for each man 
working on the scows.* From this time until 1882 no charge was 
made for labor, the matters recovered being taken as an equivalent. 
Beginning with 1882, the privilege of scow-trimming brought to 
the city a money compensation of from $75 to $90 per week. The 
payment increased gradually, until in 1887 it reached $320 per 
week ; in 1888, $685; in 1889, $1,000 ; in 1890, $1,068; in 1891, 
$1,770; in 1892-93, $1,795. At the end of 1894 it had fallen to 
$1,675. There were occasional deductions on account of the tem 
porary closing of dumps, but for some years the city has received 
annually over $50,000 worth of labor and about $90,000 in cash 
as the value of the privilege of gleaning from its dust chutes. 

The following is the list of the articles collected, with the 
tariff of prices. It is furnished by the present contractor, Sig- 
nor Carlo De Marco, Padrone: 

Mixed rags ............ : .......................... $ .50 per 100 Ibs. 

No.2 " ..................................... 40 

Dirty white rags ................................ 1.00 

Soft wools ........................................ 2.00 

Rubber ........................................... 3:50 

Bottles ............................................ 1.25 

Soda water bottles ............................... 50 


Lager beer " ............................... 65 "100 

Seltzer water " .............................. 3.50 " " 

Iron ........ , ................................... 4.50 "ton 

Zinc ... ..................................... _____ 1.75 "lOOlbs. 

Copper ............................................ 5.00 " " 

Brass ........................................... 3.50 " " " 

Pewter ....................... ............ 10.00 " " " 

Paper ............................................. 25 to .40 per lOOlbs. 

Tomato cans (for the solder) ____ .............. 2. 00 a load. t 

Oldshoes ............................. .......... 05 to .15 per pair. 

Hats ............................................. Ol^each. 

Brokenglass .................................... lOper 

Carpets .............................. ............ 25 "lOOl 

Rope ............................................... 50 " " " 

Brushes ...................... ..................... 05 to .15 each. 

Fat ............................................ 1.10 per 100 Ibs. 

Bones .......................................... 50 " " " 

Hemp twine .............. . 1.00 " " " 

Cloth ............................................. 1.00 " " " 

* There is no record of the number. 
t This was formerly $6 per load. 


Dickens's ' ' Golden Dustman " and the accounts of the rag 
pickers of Paris have made us familar with the fact that there is 
an available value in the ordinary rejectamenta of human life. 
We learn by the work of the dock Italian of New York that to 
regain this value is a matter of minute detail ; it calls for the 
recovery of unconsidered trifles from a mass of valueless wastes, 
and the conversion of these into a salable commodity. 

Reasoning from this starting point we may fairly assume that 
if there were a complete system for the collection of these objects 
at their source at the houses in which they are discarded much 
more would be recovered. As the subject is studied, it seems 
clear that the public authorities might with advantage take con 
trol of the whole business of the collection of rubbish. This 
would probably be necessary to the securing of a great pecuniary 
return. Such control would involve the suppression, or the public 
employment, of the push-cart man, who jangles his string of bells 
through the streets and carries on a more or less illicit traffic with 
domestic servants. These peddler-buyers are no more tolerable 
than were the long-ago discarded rag-pickers. Those who have 
cast-off things to sell should be made to take them to licensed located 
dealers, whose transactions can be held under proper supervision. 
The municipality should in the interest of the public safety, as 
well as of the public finances take up and carry on for itself, or 
through contractors whom it could control completely, the whole 
business of removing from houses whatever householders may 
wish to get rid of and will not take the trouble to carry for sale 
to a dealer. 

It is not possible to make anything like a precise calculation 
as to the value of these many and manifold wastes, but it would 
seem safe to assume that with a universal and well-regulated col 
lection and sale there might be recovered, in cash, one cent per 
diem for each member of the population, beyond the cost of collec 
tion and sale. This would amount annually to over $7,000,000, 
enough to pay all the cost of street cleaning and street sprinkling, 
and, in addition thereto, to repave the whole city within a very 
few years, so far as this is needed, and to keep the pavements in 
repair perpetually. In due time it would pay for a complete sup 
ply of public urinals and latrines, and for other items of munici 
pal housekeeping. There is, of course, no reason for fixing the 
amount that might be saved at one cent per person, any more than 


at two cents or at half a cent ; but the ground for supposing that 
a very material amount can be secured is surely sufficient to make 
it worth while to experiment extensively to determine just what it 
will pay or will not pay to do. 

The result of the investigation would be of value not only to 
the City of New York but to all other places, large and small. 
Even if little or no profit should result from the collection and 
separation of salable rubbish, still a systematic and complete treat 
ment of the offscourings of towns, and their prompt removal 
from houses, could not fail to be of much sanitary benefit. A 
study of the constructive geology of the outskirts of an American 
town will hardly furnish reason to commend the way in which 
"filling in" is making building lots for the growing population. 
Future ages may find in the long abandoned sites of American 
homes as curious if n6t as interesting subjects for archaeological 
study as the homes of the cliff dwellers furnish for us. 

The proper treatment, not only of rubbish but of garbage and 
ashes, will be an important element of a better civilization than 
ours. The " out-of-sight, out-of-mind " principle is an easy one 
to follow, but it is not an economical one, nor a decent one, nor a 
safe one. For other and more important reasons than the hope 
of getting money out of our wastes, should we pursue the study 
of the treatment of these wastes, and try to devise a less shiftless 
and uncivilized method than that which we now use. 

In the matter of collection alone there is much need for radical 
improvement. The most bulky matters collected in New York 
are ashes and street sweepings. The latter are swept into little 
piles on the pavement, there to lie until the cart conies along, 
when they are shovelled into it. More or less powdered horse 
dung is blown into houses and into the faces of the people, ac 
cording to circumstances ; on a breezy day it is considerably 
more. While the heaps lie awaiting the shovel they are kicked 
about by horses, dragged about by wheels, and blown about by 
the wind also more or less according to circumstances. Ashes 
are kept in a barrel or in a can, which is also the depositing place 
of paper and other forbidden rubbish. In due time more often 
in undue time it is set out to decorate the house front in a way 
which it would be much less than adequate to call inelegant. 
What happens when this receptacle is tipped over the edge of the 
ash cart and rolled to and fro until it is emptied, no one need be 


told who has paraded a city street in fine clothing while the oper 
ation is going on, with a good wind blowing. 

The ash barrel and the " little pile " have thus far baffled all 
effort. We are hopeful just now that we shall succeed in having 
the ashes deposited in bags inside of the houses, the bags to be tied 
and thrown into the cart, not to be opened until they reach the 
dump. It is also hoped that street dirt, as it is swept up, will be 
at once shovelled into a bag supported open on a light pair of 
wheels. When the bag is filled it will be securely tied and set 
aside ; and the cartman will collect the closed bags. 

We are just now struggling with the separation of ashes and 
garbage. The Board of Health has ordered this in a large cen 
tral district, and the area will be extended as success is achieved. 
The collection will be made separately and the disposition of the 
two will be quite different. An effort is also being mado to have 
paper, and other forms of light rubbish, kept by itself and dis 
posed of by the householder or by a public contractor. 

Up to the present time the final disposition of all of the dry 
wastes of the city is by discharge from vessels into the sea. There 
are dumping boards along the water front where scows receive the 
contents of the carts. These scows are towed out beyond the 
Sandy Hook lightship and there unloaded. Aside from the 
wastefulness of this process, it gives occasion for serious com 
plaint from those who are affected by the fouling of the adjacent 
shores of Long Island and New Jersey. Probably not much offen 
sive garbarge escapes the fish and the action of the waves, but 
enough of this accompanies the straw, paper, boxes, cans, etc., 
with which the shore is often heavily lined, to have very much the 
same sentimental effect that a solid mass of garbage would have. 
In any event, the result is very disfiguring and very annoy 
ing to frequenters of the beaches and to owners of shore prop 

This constitutes a very serious menace to New York, Brook 
lyn, and Jersey City. The fouling of the beaches may at any 
time be made the pretext for protest, legislation, and injunction, 
such as we have already had with reference to Riker's Island 
and to local dumps in the Annexed District. This may have 
the effect of absolutely closing to these cities the only outlet they 
now have for their wastes. It is, therefore, incumbent on them 
to hasten as much as possible the development of some other 


means for the disposal of their offal than the present barbarous 
one of dumping them into the ocean. 

The writer has necessarily given much consideration to this 
general subject, and he is, so far as his official limitations per 
mit, working in the direction of a complete separation of the 
material into four different classes : 

1. Paper and other light rubbish; 2. Street sweepings ; 3. 
Garbage ; 4. Ashes. 

If the complete separation of these four classes can be effected, 
then the whole problem is practically solved. It is only because 
each one bedevils all the others that final disposal is such a 
serious problem. It is confidently believed that the separation 
can be effected, and within a short time. Were this accomplished, 
the four elements of the work might be developed as follows : 

1. Paper, rags and rubbish of every kind, should be collected 
only by the city's own carts, or by the city's own contractors. 
It should not be permitted to sell any of the wastes of domestic 
life at the door. Licenses should be granted for dealing in these 
matters only to men who had fixed places of business, and who 
carried on their traffic only at those places. Everything of too 
low a grade to be carried to these establishments for sa 1 e would 
be collected not from the streets but from within the houses 
by the city's own agency, and all would be carried to local cen 
tres where they would be assorted, where all matters having a 
value would be classified and separated for sale ; and whence 
everything having no value would be carted to suitable crema 
tories for final consumption. It is here, it is believed, that a large 
return could be secured to the treasury. The chief opposition to 
such treatment of the question would come from those who court 
the votes of the push-cart men, and whose argument it would be 
that an honest industry was being destroyed. This charge may 
be met in two ways : First, that too often the industry of these 
men is otherwise than honest ; and, second, that their work will 
still have to be done, and may quite as well be done by them as 
by others, with the simple condition that it is to be done under 
proper regulation. If everything of value that now goes to the 
dumps, to the paper dealer and to the junk dealer, could be made 
to pay tribute to the city, something like the result above hinted 
at may be expected. 

2. Paper and all manner of dry rubbish being rigidly kept 


indoors until taken by the collector, the sweepings of the streets 
especially after the improved repaying will consist of little 
else than horse droppings ; and while these have not much com 
mercial value in New York, they can at least be got rid of in 
offensively and without much cost. It seems one of the absurdi 
ties of the situation that while stable manure is, probably, every 
where else in the world much sought after and salable at a con 
siderable price, in New York it not only has no value, but can 
be got rid of only at considerable cost. The Department of 
Street Cleaning has over eight hundred well-fed horses. It is not 
able to get rid of the manure produced at its stables without cost 
and is now actually dumping it into the sea. This manure, of 
first-rate quality, was offered to the Department of Parks free of 
charge. The superintendent said that he would be very glad 
to receive it, if it was delivered free, but it was not worth 
transportation, because so many private stables were glad to haul 
manure to the different parks " free gratis." 

3. Garbage. It has been the custom hitherto to mix garbage 
with ashes and rubbish. The separation of garbage from every 
thing else is now being enforced. As soon as the separation is 
fairly accomplished, contracts will be made for the "reduction/' 
utilization or cremation of the garbage. 

There are a number of patented processes by which grease is 
extracted from garbage, and by which, with or without the ad 
dition of other substances, a salable fertilizer is made of the resi 
due. These processes are thus far all in the experimental stage. 
There is not one of them of which it is absolutely known that it 
would be safe or wise for the city to adopt it as the subject of a 
long contract. Investigations into the actual working and actual 
business conditions of the more important of these processes are 
now being carried on by the Department, and it is believed that 
before autumn enough will be known to indicate clearly what 
course to pursue. All that is definitely known now is, that there 
are several processes of cremation by which everything of this 
class can be absolutely and inoffensively destroyed at a cost that 
is not prohibitory. It is believed that there is more than one 
process of ( ( reduction," or utilization, that can be profitably car 
ried on with little, if any, help from the city in the form of com 
pensation. Indeed, one responsible concern is ready to make a 
contract to take the entire output of garbage as dumped from 


the carts, and to pay a substantial price for it. The proper 
treatment of this subject will require, as in the case of paper and 
rubbish, the absolute control of the business by the city. Not 
only must we take charge of spoiled vegetables and the poorest 
and most watery garbage of cheap boarding-houses, but we should 
also have the richer product of hotels and restaurants. The city 
should, in short, assert its right to an absolute monopoly of the 
garbage business, for all garbage is a nuisance unless brought 
under proper control. Such control cannot be exercised by the 
city unless it takes possession of the entire field. 

4. Ashes. If we can withhold from the ashes produced in pri 
vate houses all extraneous matters, as above described, bringing 
house ashes to the condition of what we now know as " steam 
ashes," there will no longer be occasion for dumping at sea. The 
city has lands under water near by, like the very large inclosed 
tract at Biker's Island and elsewhere along its water courses, 
where its ashes may be deposited with the very useful effect of 
creating valuable building land. Private owners of shore 
flats are applying constantly for such ashes, and to a certain ex 
tent are receiving them without cost to the city. Furthermore, 
these ashes have a decided value for other uses. It has been in 
timated to the Department that if they can be kept clean, a com 
pany with sufficient capital will take them all at more than the 
cost of collection, foe the manufacture of cheap fire-proofing 
blocks, etc. The Department has been experimenting with 
ashes containing some garbage, just as it is hauled to the dump. 
This has been made into a concrete, with fifteen parts of ashes 
to one part of Portland cement, producing a result that would be 
admirably suited for the foundation of stone-block, asphalt, or 
other pavement. 

The general conclusion from the above must be that while the 
question of the disposal of a city's wastes is full of difficulty, it is 
also full of promise. 





IF Napoleon III. had been the most arrant coward on earth 
and he was the very opposite of a coward Orsini's attempt on 
his life would have been calculated to convert him into a man of 
courage. No intended victim of such an attempt as that of Jan 
uary 14th, 1858, could come to any other conclusion but that 
he bore a charmed life. If religiously disposed he would 
simply attribute his escape to a direct intervention of Provi 
dence ; if a fatalist, as the Emperor was supposed to be, his 
fatalism would be intensified a hundredfold, and henceforth he 
would advance on the road mapped out for him by Fate, not 
only mentally blindfolded, but disdaining to take the ordinary 
precautions of the sightless. That this was absolutely the case 
with Napoleon III., I shall have no difficulty in proving as I pro 

The attempt of January 14th, 1858, was the fourth directed 
against Louis Napoleon's life during the ten years that had passed 
since his memorable interview with Lamartine. Whatever illusions 
he rnay have entertained with regard to the role of the police as a 
protector in the three previous ones, he could not have possibly 
remained in such a " fooFs paradise " where the fourth was con 
cerned. It is more than doubtful, though, whether Louis 
Napoleon deceived himself at any time or was deceived as to the 
collective power of the police to frustrate the designs of the would- 
be assassin, or as a means of detecting the doings of secret soci 
eties. Everything leads me to believe that he became more 
sceptical upon all those points as time went on. He knew 


that he could count upon a few Corsicans such as Alessandri 
and Griscelli to defend his life at the risk of their own ; 
he" knew that they were intelligent to a degree, absolutely 
loyal to him, and as absolutely unscrupulous face to face 
with the rest of the world ; but he also knew that of the so-called 
organization at the Prefecture of Police they were things apart ; 
that, if anything, they despised that institution; which, in its turn, 
hampered them on every occasion, either from sheer professional 
jealousy, or in order to court favor with its chief of the moment, 
or to plot for the return to office of the former one ; each of whom 
of those chiefs fancied himself a Fouche, a Keal, a Desmarets 
and a Dubois rolled into one ; though in reality the whole of the 
five prefects who held office during the second Napoleonic period 
namely Maupas, Blot, the two Pietri's (Pierre-Marie and Joa 
chim), and Boitelle had not together as much brains as the 
famous Due d'Otrante by himself or as any of his principal 

This does not mean that the five men I have just named were 
devoid of intellect or that their lieutenants such as Hyrvoix, La- 
grange, and the lieutenants of the latter, Canler, Claude, Jacob 
and others were incapables. Far from it. They all had a great 
deal of talent, nay Canler and Claude were geniuses in their own 
way, but neither they nor their official superiors had sufficient 
genius or talent for the dual task circumstances and the prevail 
ing spirit of intrigue imposed upon them. The five prefects 
were not only called upon to look to the safety of the dynasty 
and its actual chief, but had to guard against their being dis 
lodged from their own position by the plotting of their prede 
cessors, or the machinations of their would-be successors. 

Boitelle, Persigny's friend and erstwhile fellow-soldier, re 
placed Pietri (the elder), who had shown a most lamentable 
want of foresight which caused great loss of life, much suf 
fering and would have caused the death of the Emperor and the 
Empress but for a miracle. I am not exaggerating; the carriage 
that conveyed the Imperial couple and General Roguet, the Em 
peror's aide-de-camp, was literally riddled with projectiles; no 
less than seventy-six of these were subsequently found imbedded 
in the panels and other parts; one of the horses wounded in twenty- 
five places was killed on the spot, the other had to be slaughtered; 
the three footmen and the coachman were all severely hurt; Gen- 


eral Roguet/s deep, though not fatal, flesh wound just below the 
right ear bled so profusely that the Empress's dress was absolutely 
saturated with blood as she entered the opera. Finally, a bullet 
had gone right through the Emperor's hat. I am only referring 
to the Emperor and his immediate entourage on that night; the 
total number of wounded was 156, at least a dozen of whom died 
of their injuries. 

Yet the whole of this butchery might and could have been pre 
vented, for there is not the least doubt that the French authorities 
were warned in time both of Orsini's departure from London, of his 
contemplated journey to Paris and of his fell purpose. Billault, 
the Minister of the Interior, Pietri, the Prefect of the Police, La- 
grange, the Chief of the Municipal Police, and Hebert, the super 
intendent specially entrusted with the service des htitels garnis 
in other words, with the surveillance of the visitors to Paris and 
of those residents without a fixed abode were aware of the pres 
ence of Pieri and Gomez in the capital, if not of Orsini's. Nev 
ertheless, both remained perfectly free until the mischief had 
been done. We lay no stress on the passage of Morny's speech at 
the opening of the Chamber stating that the provincial branches 
of the secret societies were looking forward to some upheaval in 
mid-January, which upheaval would be followed by important 
movement. Those periodical announcements were part of the 
policy of the Second Empire during the first ten years of its ex 
istence. They were intended to strike terror into the hearts of 
the peace-loving population, and to make them rally still closer 
round a dynasty which was supposed to hold the revolution 
aries and republicans the terms were almost synonymous 
in those days in check by exposing and forestalling every 
one of their plans. In spite of everything that has been written 
and said on the subject, it is a moot point whether there 
was one secret society in France of sufficient weight or dimen 
sions to constitute a serious danger to the dynasty, and whether 
the Emperor or any of his most confidential advisers believed in 
the existence of such. But at the particular period of which I 
treat an openly avowed belief was still part of the system. Four 
years later (1862) the system is absolutely reversed. The secret 
societies are supposed to have vanished from off the face of the 
land their disappearance being due of course to the strong and 
energetic government which leaves no cause for dissatisfaction any- 


where. The alarmists who would still believe in secret societies 
must be dissuaded from their belief by the most delightful, but 
at the same time most effectual means France has at her disposal 
to that effect, namely the stage, and the Emperor himself takes 
the initiative in that direction. He commissions M. Camille 
Doticet (the late life-secretary of the Academie who died recently), 
the then official superintendent of theatres, to find the Aristo 
phanes who shall make people laugh and, in making them laugh, 
disarm their fears. M. Doucet applied successively to Theodore 
Barrire, Louis Bouilhet and Amedee Holland,* all of whom at 
tempted the task but without success, and who each received 
6,000 frs. for their trouble. What they failed to accomplish 
though, was achieved in another way by Alexandre Pothey, a 
friend of theirs, in his satire of La, Muette; the n/ime of the secret 
society which baffles all the researches of the police. There is no 
evidence that Pothey ever saw Napoleon III. in private, yet his 
satire bears a remarkable likeness to the story told by the Em 
peror to my grand-uncle, f 

Sceptical though the Emperor may have been with regard to 
the existence of secret societies in France, he could not pretend 
to ignore the existence of at least one outside France. Many years 
before his advent to the imperial throne he had become affiliated 
to the Carfionaria, and it was the Carlonaria which through 
Mazzini and Orsini claimed the fulfilment of the project to which 
he had subscribed at the time of his admission. That project of 
which Lord Castlereagh had already a copy in 1813, and which 
before that had been submitted to George III. aimed at the estab 
lishment of an Italian Empire, limited by the Alps on the one 
side and the sea on the other three, with Rome as its capital 
and an Emperor chosen from either the reigning families of 
Sardinia, Naples or England. J 

In 1858 the most powerful living subscriber to that docu 
ment was unquestionably Napoleon III., Emperor of the 
French. But, powerful though he was, he dared not dis- 

* Theodore Barrtere, the famous author of Les Faux Bonshommes, Les Filles de 
Marbrt, and co-author with Henri Murger of the dramatic version of La Vie de 
Boheme. Louis Bpnilhet, the friend of Gustavo Flaubert. A.m6d6e Holland, the 
founder of the satirical journal. Le Diogene, and a well-known playwright, though 
not known in England or America. 

t La Muette made t'othey famous. He was originally a wood engraver. His 
best-known book, however, is Le Capitaine Regnier, a precursor of Le Colonel 

\ Both the act of affiliation and a copy of the project were seen by Monsignor 
Louie Gaston de Sigur, Arch-Canon of Saint Denis during the Second Empire. 


patch 300,000 men across the Alps in discharge of a purely 
personal obligation, which was moreover contracted in his pre- 
imperial days. We need not inquire whether Louis Napoleon's 
compact with the Carbonaria, dating as it did from so many years 
previously, was generally known in France. I was a lad of fifteen 
then and, as I have had occasion to remark, constantly thrown 
into the society of my elders, nearly all of whom were more or less 
behind the scenes. I remember having heard vague allusions to the 
danger the Emperor ran " from the knife of the hired assassin"; 
I heard the names of Mazzini, Karl Marx, and Bakounirie, in 
connection with conspiracies, but until four or five months before 
the attempt of January 14th none of those conversations tried to 
establish the existence of a vast organization to deprive the Em 
peror of his life. The three principal attempts up to that time, 
including that of Kehlse, were supposed to have been instigated 
by small groups, not necessarily Italians. My uncles' friends 
argued that the nine serious attempts on Louis Philippe's life and 
the one on the Due d'Aumale were apparently not dictated by 
questions affecting the King's foreign policy; that with the ex 
ception of Fieschi all those would-be regicides were Frenchmen ; 
but they observed also that the fact of Kehlse, Sinabaldi, Silvani 
and the rest being foreigners did not absolutely imply either a 
far-reaching conspiracy or a conspiracy from without. The 
plotters Ttere as likely to be Republicans or Legitimists as Italian 
revolutionaries. Soon after the Coup d y ltat there had been an 
attempt to kill Louis Napoleon by means of an imitation of 
Fieschi's infernal machine ; the attempt was nipped in the bud, 
but the presumption was strong against the partisans of the 
Comte de Chambord. In short, until within four or five months 
before the butchery in the Rue le Peletier, neither my uncles nor 
their friends, not even Joseph Ferrari, who was an Italian by 
birth and intimately acquainted with the doings of Mazzini,* 
seemed to be certain that the Carbonari were collectively at work 
in that respect. 

But there was a sudden change of opinion. One day my 
younger grand-uncle came home looking very serious, and during 
dinner told his brother that there had been an attempt to 
decoy the Emperor. He did not say more that night, and I 
discovered afterwards that at that moment he knew no more. 

* See An Englishman in Paris, vol. II., and My Paris Note- Book, chap. 3. 


The next day more rumors found their way to our home, 
for no one could or would vouch for the truth of what 
he had heard and repeated. The word "decoyed," as used by 
my uncle, was, however, a misnomer. The Emperor had simply 
walked into a trap set for him by a woman with his eyes open, 
for he had been warned that it was a trap. He had been drugged 
and would have been abducted but for the intervention of another 
woman. All those stories, though varying in detail, agreed as to 
the main fact ; there had been a carefully concocted plot to get 
hold of the Emperor and to convey him to the frontier, whether 
to imprison him as a hostage or to do away with him eventually 
was not stated. Not a single word of this, though, found its way 
into the French press, but the Belgian papers published different 
versions of the affair in the guise of fairy tales. In spite of the 
vigilance of the police and the customs, some copies were smug 
gled into France. The veil which fiction had woven around the 
original personages was too transparent for the public not to 
recognize them at once ; nevertheless, people might have looked 
upon the whole as an ingenious fabrication but for the indiscre 
tion of the Marquis de Boissy, a member of the senate and the jester 
in ordinary to that august assembly, just as the late Cointe de Dou- 
ville-Maillefeu was the jester in ordinary to the Chamber of Depu 
ties under the Third Republic.* M. de Boissy was always putting 
questions to the Ministry, and when the rumors just alluded to 
became rife he insisted upon their being denied or confirmed by 
the Emperor's ministers. No such denial or confirmation being 
forthcoming, M. de Boissy exclaimed : " The Emperor, Messieurs 
les Senateurs, is not sufficiently careful in his intercourse with the 
fair sex. Out of sheer consideration for us, for himself, and for 
the country, His Majesty ought not to place himself at every 
moment in the power of this or that adventuress." M. de Boissy 
was not called "to order" by the chair, and although in those 
days no reports of the Legislature were allowed to be published, 
the story of the unanswered interpellation and of M. de Boissy's 
remark got wind. People not only concluded that the fairy 
tales of the Belgian papers contained a solid foundation of truth, 
but that the repeated attacks on the Chief of the State were 
something more serious than the individual acts of a Ravaillac or 

* The Marquis de Boissy married the Countess Guiccioli, who played so import 
ant a part in the latter years of Byron's life. 


a Louvel. Shortly after that came the affair of the Rue le Pele- 

I am not speaking without authority when I say that 
the Emperor, in spite of his profound concern for the 
innocent victims of that outrage would have felt pleased to 
see the perpetrators of it escape. He knew that neither their 
arrest nor execution would influence by a hair's breadth the 
course the Garbonaria had mapped out in order to force their 
erewhile member to fulfil the pledge he had given. And the 
fulfilment of that pledge meant war with Austria for no reason 
affecting the interests of France herself at that moment, with 
Austria against whom Prussia, in spite of her many years of 
warlike training, did not dare to draw the sword as yet, with 
Austria who with France was the protector of the temporal 
sovereignty of the Holy See. The lesson of the Crimean War 
had not been lost on Napoleon III. In spite of the glory that 
had accrued to French arms, the Emperor was aware that the 
war had not been popular with the majority of the French nation, 
who strongly suspected the motives that led to it, especially at 
its conclusion when there was no territorial or other compensa 
tion for the sacrifices they had undergone. And in the Crimean 
War the Emperor had had the support of the clergy, which he 
felt certain would fail in a war for the liberation of Italy ; for 
not the humblest rural priest fostered the faintest illusion with 
regard to the final upshot of such liberation as far as Koine was 
concerned. And although the idea of freeing their Latin brethren 
from the hated yoke of the Austrian was no doubt attractive to 
some Frenchmen, the prospect of the humiliation of the Papacy 
as pictured by the priesthood throughout the land was hateful 
to nearly all. 

That is why the Emperor felt sore with the police for not 
having prevented the catastrophe, and not as has so often been 
alleged because of the danger to which their neglect had exposed 
him. Truly, that danger had never appeared so formidable as 
then ; the erstwhile Carlonaro had fondly imagined that the 
Carlonaria would stop short at taking his life that all its 
former attempts had been intended to force his hand, not to 
render that hand powerless in death ; and to a certain extent he 
had logic on his side. Louis Napoleon's death would have dis 
pelled for at least a decade all reasonable chances of a free and 


united Italy. Mazzini's contention, assumption, or boast call it 
what you will that " Napoleon III/s death would have been 
followed by another republic which would have come to the aid 
of Italy," to which boast Orsini gave utterance at his trial, will not 
bear a moment's investigation as regards its second postulate. But 
the truth of the first was patent to everybody, and more than patent 
to Louis Napoleon himself, who, notwithstanding his fatalism and 
his marvellous escape from the jaws of death, was too logical to 
court deliberately a second risk of a similar nature. The Prince 
Imperial was not two years old, and his father knew but too well 
that the sight of an infant king in his cradle, and shown by his 
mother, was no longer sufficient to keep revolutionary passions in 
check, as it had been 200 years before, during the Regency of Anne 
of Austria. If at any period he had been at all sanguine about the 
results of such an exhibition, the somewhat analogous experiments 
of the Duchesse de Berri (July, 1830) and of the Duchesse d'Or- 
leans (February, 1848) were amply calculated to disabuse his mind 
in that respect, apart from the fact that in spite of his great love 
for his wife, he was not quite prepared to credit her with the 
heroism that beards a revolution. The Emperor, therefore, knew 
that the first and foremost condition of his sou's succession to 
the throne was the prolongation of his own life. Four and 
twenty hours after the bloodshed in the Rue le Peletier. he had 
been categorically told that his life depended on the following 
steps on his part*: 1st. The Pardon of Orsini ; 2d. The Procla 
mation of the Independence of Italy ; 3d. The Cooperation of 
France with Italy in a war against Austria. 

There was no alternative but acceptance,! and even then the 

* I have heard it stated over and over a?ain that on the morning after the affair 
in the Rue le Peletier the Emperor sent for an old friend of his mother, a Roman 
exile, who had been living in Paris for many years, and who had been implicated, 
forty-three years before, in the conspiracy against tho Holy See. Queen Hortense 

" to this 

had told her son, if ever he was in trouble, to apply to this friend. Thorn 
upon seventy at that time, he was io direct communication with the Carbonaria 
and had not left off conspiring. It was he who imposed the three conditions men 
tioned above, and a few days later announced to the Emperor that fifteen months' 
respite would be granted for the latter two. Personally, 1 am under the impression 
that this intermediary between the Emperor and the Carbonaria was the lawyer 
Domassi. the same who, in 1815, when a prisoner in Rome, was the guest of Mon- 
signor Pacca, the Governor of the Holy City, at whose own table he ate. I feel 
certain that his name was mentioned several times in my hearing, but I have not a 
single note to confirm my impression. On the other hand, my uncles maintained that 
the man for whom the Emperor sent was the Uomte Ar^se, the same who had been 
brought p side by side with Prince Louis, and whose father was on most intimate 
terms with Queen Hortense. Comte Arese is said to have told the Emperor that, in 
addition to Orsini, forty other Carbonari had been selected to repeat the attempt, if 
Orsini's should fail 

t A few days after the attempt the Prince Regent of Prussia (subsequently 
Wilhelm 1.) wrote to Prince Albert as follows : "Napoleon's dilemma was summed 
up in two words; War or the dagger ; not a French dagger, but an Italian one." 


Carbonaria made a show of generosity in relieving Louis Napoleon 
of one of his pledges, the pardon of Orsini. They were afraid, 
probably, that the execution of that first pledge would entail the 
non-fulfilment of the other two ; for at the first mention of his 
contemplated clemency the Emperor was confronted by the whole 
of the French clergy in the person of Cardinal Morlot, Arch 
bishop of Paris. That prelate told him distinctly that, powerful 
as he was in France, " your Majesty is not sufficiently powerful 
to do this. By God's admirable grace, your Majesty's life has 
been spared, but a great deal of French blood has been shed, 
and that blood demands expiation. Without such expiation all 
idea of justice would be lost. Justitia regnorum fundamentum." 

When the words were reported to him at our home I re 
member the scene as if it were to-day Ferrari leaped from off his 
chair, and exclaimed : " They have come direct from Eome. The 
priests flatter themselves that the Carbonaria will insist rigor 
ously on the redemption of the whole of the three pledges, and 
that short of that the society will take the Emperor's life. Well, 
the priests are mistaken. A human life counts for nothing with 
the Carbonaria and they will sacrifice Orsini's, as being for the 
moment less valuable than Louis Napoleon's to the cause of 
Italy's freedom. Kemember what I tell you." 

His interlocutors could not help remembering, for his predic 
tion was realized to the very letter. A couple of days later the 
Emperor paid a secret visit to Orsini in his prison, and though 
no one knows till this day what transpired during that interview, 
Orsini after that became an altered man. He who had opposed 
a stern and stubborn silence to M. Treilhard's questions made 
virtually a clean breast of the whole affair. He supplied the 
most minute particulars of the organizing of the plot in London, 
and it was by the Emperor's special permission that Jules Favre 
was enabled to point out the lofty sentiments that impelled the 
deed. Louis Napoleon had virtually accepted the executorship 
of Orsini's political testament.* 

By that time the Emperor could have had but few, if any, 
illusions left with regard to the efficiency of his police to protect 
him and his subjects against such outrages as that which had 
spread consternation throughout the land. The renewal of his 

* I had the confirmation of this visit from the lips of the late Marshal Canro- 
bert who had the particulars from General Floury, who accompanied the Emperor. 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 5 


compact with the Carbonaria had, however, given him a respite 
of fifteen months, for he felt confident that under no circum 
stances would they prove false to their word. And fifteen months 
to a man of his temperament, who trusted to the events of an 
hour to carry out the plans he had meditated for years, who had 
even postponed the Coup d'Etat from week to week, fifteen 
months to such a man, just escaped from a supreme danger, 
seemed little short of eternity. Fifteen months might be pro 
ductive of a chapter, nay of a whole volume, of accidents ; mean 
while he could breathe freely. 

What, then, was the Emperor's surprise when within the next 
three months he was informed secretly by one of his chamber 
lains that another plot against his life was being hatched by the 
Carbonaria. There could be no doubt about the society's share 
in the matter, seeing that a portrait of Orsini, very rare at that 
particular period, served as a token of recognition among the 
conspirators, several of whom were in Paris. Pietri had been 
succeeded by Boitelle, and the chamberlain's revelations which 
had been preceded by insinuations virtually took the shape 
of an indictment against the new Prefect of Police. At 
first the Emperor had been disinclined to attach much import 
ance to those communications, although he gave Boitelle a hint 
of the rumors that were abroad, without divulging, however, 
his own source of information. But when the chamberlain 
handed the Emperor a portrait of Orsini, said to have been bor 
rowed from one of the conspirators, the Emperor sent for his 
Prefect and placed the documentary proof before him. The latter 
was not in the least disconcerted. " If your Majesty will tear off 
the sheet of paper that covers the back of the portrait, the value 
of the documentary evidence will strike your Majesty as origi 
nal/' The portrait was signed by Boitelle himself. " In fact," 
said the Emperor when telling the story, " Boitelle while danc 
ing on the tight-rope of office is compelled to do as the others do. 
Though honest to a degree he has to invent tricks to keep his 
balance, and like the others he has but little time to spare to look 
around him. That kind of dual observation can only be accom 
plished successfully by a Fouche, and even my uncle had only one. 
Fouche danced on the tight-rope and every now and again 
knocked the enemies of the Emperor on the head with his balanc 
ing-pole ; my prefects allow my enemies to get hold of the balanc- 


ing-pole and to drag them off their rope with it. That is the 
difference between my police and that of Napoleon I." Eighteen 
months later, notwithstanding the apparently satisfactory issue 
of the war in Italy, the Emperor might have held the same lan 
guage with regard to the superior officers of his army. 

After all this, there is no need to insist upon the real motive 
as distinguished from the alleged one that led Louis Napoleon 
to undertake a war against Austria. What is, perhaps, less in 
telligible is the Emperor's anxiety for his cousin's marriage with 
Victor Emmanuel's daughter, notwithstanding the King's 
scarcely concealed repugnance to sanction such a union. The 
following note from my grand-uncles is dated January 1859. 

" The King, though brave to a fault, dreads ' scenes' with his 
womankind. He had been more or less afraid of Queen Adelaide; 
he was afraid of Kosina Vercellana long before he made her 
Contessa di Mirafiori ; he appears to be more afraid of Prin- 
cesse Clotilde than he was of the late Queen and is of Con 
tessa Rosina, although the Princess is but sixteen. But she 
takes life very seriously and has strong religious feelings, in 
which both views and feelings she is backed up by her former 
governess, Signorina Foresta. There being no mother these two 
are of course much thrown together, and the opposition to the 
marriage derived considerable and additional force from this con 
stant companionship. Victor Emmanuel was on the horns of a 
dilemma, but Cavour got him out of it by positively 'bundling' 
Signorina Foresta out of the palace and ordering her to leave 
Piedmont within the space of twenty-four hours. Ferrari tells 
me that Cavour, in spite of his mild and benevolent looks can be 
very rough and arbitrary. The only one who is not afraid of him 
is Garibaldi, who on one occasion said that, Prime Minister or 
not, he would fling him out of the window if he began bullying. 
Be this as it may, according to Ferrari, Prince Napoleon was talk 
ing to Victor Emmanuel when the latter was called out of the 
room and told that Signorina Foresta had been got rid of. A 
moment or so afterwards the king returned, his face beaming with 
satisfaction. ' There has been a lot of worry about this marriage 
of yours,' he said to Plon-Plon, with whom ever since his visit to 
France in 1855 he had been on terms of boon companionship. 
Plon-Plon nodded his head affirmatively. ' Well, we'll settle the 
matter at once/ he said, and before Plon-Plon could ask any further 


questions, he rang the bell and sent for his daughter. A few 
minutes later the Princess entered the apartment, and the door 
had hardly closed upon her when her father pushed her into Plon- 
Plon's arms. ' I have told you that you are to marry Napoleon/ he 
laughed, e and here he is ; kiss one another and let there be an 
end of the matter. '" 

That is how Victor Emmanuel got over his scruples or pre 
tended to get over them, for to the end of his life he never forgave 
himself for that marriage. " I shall be able to account to my 
Maker for the blood I have spilled for the cause of Italy's free 
dom," he said shortly before his death. ' ' I shall never be able to 
account for the tears and the martyrdom I have inflicted upon an 
innocent woman for that same cause ; and that woman is my 

The barest enumeration of the incidents of the Franco- 
Austrian campaign is out of the question here. There are at least 
a hundred books professing to treat those incidents historically ; 
I have read several of these works ; I have skimmed a great many 
more. As far as I can recollect there is not one which has ful 
filled its real historical purpose of showing the reader that the 
disaster of Sedan was foreshadowed in the victory of Magenta. It 
is simply because the historian proper travels from his starting 
point Cause to his goal Result in a railway train, which 
mode of locomotion prevents him from examining the intervening 
ground invariably bestrewn with valuable personal anecdotes. In 
one of Disraeli's earlier novels I do not remember which there 
is a father who recommends his son to read biography and auto 
biography, by preference the latter, rather than history. I read 
that novel when I was a mere lad, and have never seen it since, 
but I promised myself to profit by the advice. I have not 
neglected history, but have taken it as the English take their 
melon, after dinner i. e., after my biographical fill of the men 
and women who played a part in that history. Most people take 
their history as the French take their melon, viz., before their 
biographical meal. Accident has, moreover, befriended me by 
placing at my disposal a number of notes not available to 
others, and it is from some of these that the evidence will 
be forthcoming not only as to the rotten state of the French 
army during the Franco-Austrian campaign, but of Napo 
leon's knowledge to that effect at the very beginning of that 


campaign ; which knowledge went on increasing until the 
end, when he could come to one but conclusion, namely, 
that in spite of the glory that had accrued to it, the French 
army would be as powerless to keep the foreign foe at bay 
on its own territory as the police had been powerless to pro 
ject his life from the attempts of the assassin. Fate and only 
Fate had stood by Napoleon's side, and. to Fate he would have to 
trust throughout. 

The Emperor left the Tuileries for the seat of war at 5 P. M. 
on May 10, 1859 ; at 7:30 A. M. on May 4, hence six days and a 
few hours before his departure, Lieutenant de Cadore, one of his 
Majesty's orderly officers, handed Marshal Vaillant an autographic 
letter from his sovereign informing the old soldier that he had 
ceased to be Minister of War. A little less than four years before 
that period the Marshal in a confidential gossip with a friend, had 
confessed his inability either to accomplish or even to initiate the 
desired reforms in the army, of the necessity for which he was 
painfully conscious. The Marshal was essentially an honest man, 
so honest, in fact, as to accuse himself frequently of dishonesty 
without the smallest foundation for such an accusation. The 
Emperor must have been more or less aware of that incapacity of 
which, moreover, Vaillant made no secret;* yet there was no 
attempt on his Majesty's part to replace the admittedly incapable 
by the admittedly capable, for it would be idle to pretend that 
all the captains of the Second Empire who did not come to the 
front were vainglorious mediocrities. There were men who, 
though not endowed with genius, were nevertheless exceedingly 
well informed and ornaments to their profession. General (after 
wards Marshal) Kiel was neither a Moltke nor anything like a 
Moltke, but as an organizer he was probably superior to most of 
the men in view. His subsequent failure to reorganize the French 
army was due, first of all, to his early death ; secondly, to the oppo 
sition he encountered on all sides during the short time he had 
his hand on the helm. And there were many men as able as he 
who were not even vouchsafed that small chance. 

Why did not the Emperor replace Marshal Vaillant by one of 
them long before that ? Why, having waited so long, did he dis 
miss him so abruptly at the twelfth hour ? The eleventh had 
gone by, for a great part of the forces was already in Italy. 

* An Englishman in Paris, vol. II., ch. viii. 


The first question must remain unanswered until I treat of 
society at the Tuileries and at Compiegne. The second I will 
answer at once. 

Vaillant was deprived of his portfolio at a moment's notice 
because he had become imbued with the idea that an incapable 
Minister for War, pocketing the emoluments attached to his office, 
ought to atone for his incapacity by saving the moneys of the 
State. He had positively sent three of the divisions belonging to 
Canrobert's corps d'armee namely, those of Bourbaki, Eenault, 
and Trochu across the Alps with insufficient clothing, without 
stores of any kind, without cartridges, and almost without guns. 
" Pray, ask the Emperor/' said Bourbaki to the officer sent by 
Napoleon III. to take a preliminary view of the situation ; " pray, 
ask the Emperor whether his Minister for War is a traitor or whether 
he has fallen into a state of idiocy ?" "A French army has made 
its way into Italy before now without shoes to their feet and with 
out shirts to their backs ; but the sight of a French army going 
to confront the enemy without cannon and without cartridges is 
an unprecedented sight," concluded Trochu, when making his 
report to the same envoy. 

This was before a blow had been struck, before a shot had 
been fired. On June 1 (three days before Magenta) the Em 
peror was within an ace of being taken prisoner by the Austrians 
at a distance of about a hundred yards from the French outposts, 
which outposts themselves were not three hundred yards away 
from the encampment of Failly's division. This narrow escape 
did not occur during an engagement, but while his Majesty was 
peacefully trundling in a shandrydan on a country road I be- 
lieve from Bicocca to Vespolata. At the battle of Magenta Mac- 
Mahon himself fell among a detachment of Austrian sharp 
shooters, who luckily mistook him for one of their generals. 

Is it wonderful then that the Emperor's illusions with regard 
to his army were gone ? Is it wonderful that being the fatalist 
he was, he rushed madly into the war of 1870, trusting to his 
star and to his star only ? For that such was the case I shall 
have no difficulty in proving by and by. 

(To be Continued.) 



" WHAT is it that exerts the most powerful influence in the 
world over the actions of mankind ? " 

This question was put by one man to another, as the two sat 
alone lazily smoking their cigars one afternoon, in a room of the 
Union League Club in Chicago. 

The man to whom the question was addressed leaned back in 
his chair in a thoughtful attitude, elevated his face and slowly 
blew the smoke from his mouth as he held his cigar in his hand. 

"Religion ? " queried the man who had asked the question, as 
if to hasten a reply. 

61 No," said his companion, who now brought his hand down 
on the arm of the chair, sat a little more upright, and, looking 
straight at his companion, continued : " Money. Its influence 
in shaping the civilization of the world has been more powerful 
than that of religion, in fact, there can be no true civilization 
till its power is curbed, or, rather, till the philosophy of it is 

The man speaking had become animated. He now leaned 
forward and went on : 

"If the present agitation results in solving that problem a 
problem which never has been solved there will be at once the 
beginning of a new era. Civilization needs a fluid a life-giving, 
vitalizing fluid. It needs it in quantity and quality. It is a scien 
tific question, and when it is discovered the world will know it by 
the effect produced." 

"What do you call that which we now have?" interrupted 
the listener. 

" Barbarous J A muddy, sickly fluid, flowing intermittently 


through the body politic with leeches sucking and impeding its 
circulation at every point," was the reply. 

" Well, the subject is in a fair way to receive the attention of 
the world, and from present appearances, the United States will 
lead in the movement it will be the issue in the campaign of 
1896." Then he asked suddenly : 

. " What do you think of Coin's Financial School f " 

" It has precipitated the study of the question and points the 
way to its correct solution." 

" What do you think of the answers to it, and of its critics ? " 

The man to whom the question was addressed now rose, 
straightened himself out and paced the floor without at first saying 
anything in reply. Turning, he faced his companion and said : 

" That book, as the near future will show, has aroused the 
prejudice of the most dangerous and powerful element in the 
world. Its critics are slaves set to lash the author of that book 
and their master is money. You said a moment ago, or inti 
mated, that religion exerted the greatest of all influences in the 
world on the action of members of the human race. Now, I will 
demonstrate to you that religion has a master that threw 
it, bridled it, broke it in and enslaved it. At the time of 
Christ what is now known as the Christian religion had its 
origin. It was at a period when a few owned about everything 
and were trying to possess themselves of what little the poorer 
people had. It was an era of selfishness personal selfishness 
with a craze for making money. Money was worshipped 
and hoarded by those who had it, and its scarcity among 
the people created a fierce competition for the small quan 
tity in circulation. This brought on a congestion in bus 
iness and trade and a very similar condition was produced 
to that which now exists throughout the world. Christ 
discovered the cause of the concentration of wealth and preached 
against it. He, in a literal sense, overturned the tables of the 
money changers. Put in the common American English of to 
day, he said that the system of trading and trafficking in money 
and hiring it out for pay usury, which means interest would 
inevitably end in the destruction of all other industries ; that 
these industries yielded a profit averaging less than the profits de 
rived by money changers in the way of interest on their money ; 
that this advantage to the money changers, who were dealing in the 


life blood of commerce itself on the very existence of which com 
merce depended finally gave to the money lenders such a power 
as to bring on disintegration of society and with it the debasement 
of the character of the people. Christ and his followers preached 
against this system, and they were intelligent men who had a strong, 
mental grasp of the situation, but little attention was paid to 
them till it was discovered that the people were being converted 
to their views. The fact was that in a trial by fair argument 
there was no other conclusion to reach. The argument was this : 

(t Trade and commerce the interchange of products depend 
on a common medium of exchange ; one that will as nearly as 
possible register values, and neither expand nor contract to 
unduly affect the calculations of traders and business men. 
This medium of exchange should be devoted, they reasoned, 
solely to that use for which a demand had created it, and there 
should be no law that would encourage men to hoard it and 
demand pay for its use. It would thus have a value for ex 
change, but none for hire. The money lenders at first laughed at 
such an argument and said that money was property and it had 
always been lawful for men to hire out for use that which be 
longed to them. Christ replied to this by saying that, if these 
men were not allowed to hire their money out for interest, they 
would invest their money, and there being no object left there 
after to induce men to hoard money, it would flow freely in the 
channels of trade, answer the purpose for which it was intended, 
every one would get some of it and the great craze for money 
would cease. He also said that his plan would do away with a 
dangerous system that eventually destroyed all other industries. 
There would be no more hoarding of money. A relaxation of the 
social strain would follow, resulting in peace and general pros 

" The money changers discovered that this influence and this 
man had to be checked and gotten rid of very quickly or they 
would be overthrown. They shifted their position from one of 
attempting to reason with the people to one of ridicule and abuse. 
Poverty and the craze to make money had placed in their posses 
sion soldiers, servants and writers willing to do their bidding. 
To ridicule and abuse they added ostracism and punishment. 
( Christian Dogs ' was a common appellation given to these men 
who sought to remedy the ills of civilization. Finally the officers 


in authority instigated by the men whose property was threatened, 
or rather whose right to prosecute a ' legitimate' business was 
being interfered with, decided to get rid of the main conspirator. 
This was Christ. To jail, punish or kill him would, they rea 
soned, destroy this ' pernicious movement ! ' This plan was 
adopted and carried out. Christ was arrested and his life taken. 
This threw his followers into confusion. Christ was himself a 
Jew, and the apology of modern religion for abandoning his 
teachings by railing at Jews has no significance in it except that 
which I give it." 

Here the speaker paused, turned and walked to the other end 
of the room and back again. He began again : 

" This put an end to hope of success for the movement set 
in motion two thousand years ago by that wise and good man. 
His followers kept up an attempt to carry out the wisdom of his 
religion, and so long as they did were persecuted. 

" Promise me," the man standing continued, " that you will 
go and get the books giving the history of that period and know 
for yourself how and why these men were persecuted and why 
they were called all manner of vile names. When they were 
driven out of Judea they went to Rome and arousing there the 
same antagonism, they were similarly treated. Most of them 
were killed and many of them were smeared over with tar and 
torches made of their burning bodies by night on the streets. 
Finally these Christians abandoned this teaching of Christ, that 
had in it a remedy for the emancipation of the human race, and 
from that moment the Money Power let up and permitted them 
to become respected citizens. So, when you suggested that re 
ligion was the greatest influence in the world, I said 'No, it is 
money. And I was right." 

Again he paused and took a short turn across the floor. His 
companion was silent, lying back in the large arm chair in which 
he was seated, his arms extending straight out from the body 
across the arms of the chair, his cigar gone out and his mind 
absorbed in contemplation of that long gone period, the truthful 
portrayal of which he recognized and admitted. 

The man thus sitting did not utter a word, but his eyes looked 
the interest he felt in what was being said. 

" And now," continued the man standing, (( this same uncon- 
quered and relentless power is again aroused in defense of its sin- 


ful and selfish principle. It was not satisfied to wait for its slowly 
accumulating power to absorb all other wealth, and undertook to 
hasten this absorption by demonetization of one half of all the 
money, that it might thereby increase the importance of the re 
maining half. In its defense, as in the days of Christ, it knows 
that it cannot win by relying on fair argument to present the 
justice of its cause. Hence, it will use abuse, slander and mis 
representation. The fair, truthful, honest arguments of Coin's 
Financial School are met, not by counter arguments, but by 
abuse of the book and its author. I will state one of them 
to you/' he continued. " A New York critic commences a 
book by saying that ' Coin's School ' never took place ; that the 
statement that a little boy held a school in the Art Institute 
in Chicago is false, and he exhibits and prints letters from 
prominent Chicago men to the effect that the school never oc 
curred. He then proceeds to reason that the author who would 
lie about one thing cannot be relied upon to tell the truth 
about anything. He thus appeals to prejudice, just as the 
slave owners did when they damned Uncle Tom's Cabin by say 
ing that no such negro as Uncle Tom ever existed and no man 
by the name of Legree lived in the South. No one who has 
capacity to address himself to the principle involved ever cared 
whether Uncle Tom and Legree actually lived or not ; or whether 
a little boy in knee pants ever taught a school in Chicago, the 
pupils of which were such men as Lyman Gage, Jno. E. Walsh 
and other bank presidents and prominent business men. The 
principle discussed in the story told is the thing of value. But 
unable to meet and overthrow an invincible argument and yet 
determined to protect themselves by fair or foul means, they 
charge the book to be false from beginning to end and cite the 
non-existence of the ' School' as evidence to prove their case. If 
it were true that the book is base and false, is it not reasonable 
to suppose that the people of this country with the statutes and 
official documents from Washington before them, from which 
Coin quotes his tables and figures, would see that the book was a 
fraud and that it never could have won the prominence it has ? 
" A student of human nature," he concluded, " can see that 
Coin is telling the truth when he reads the personal attacks made 
on the author of the book ; a man who is known only by reason 
of being the author of a volume that over a million of men in- 


telligent men have read, and who believe its statements of fact 
to be true and its logic sound/' 

"But," said the other, "Coin's Financial School uses the 
real names of living characters, while in Uncle Tom's Cabin 
and other similar works, fictitious names only are used." 

" That is true ; " was the reply, " but in the ' School' the well- 
known opinions of these same characters as expressed by them in 
print are put into their mouths and fairly stated. It is the strength 
of the book that these questions are handled honestly and stated 
fairly, giving clear and full force to the arguments of the other 
side. In none of these letters of denial do any of these per 
sons refute the sentiments and opinions that were put into their 

" How do you account for so many books appearing in answer 
to the ' School/ and its critics in this form multiplying so rap 
idly ? " was the next question. 

" There are two classes of answers," replied the man stand 
ing. "First, an answer was necessary to head off the influence 
of the book. This brought forth several replies from men who 
were best capable of presenting the other side of the question. 
The other and larger class of replies came from numerous pub 
lishers who want to print books to sell. They are after the money 
there is in it, and, as the followers of the yellow standard were 
crying for an answer to the book, here was a demand to be sup 
plied. ' These men will buy any book claiming to be an answer 
to the School,' is the way the publishers of books reasoned. I 
know one publisher here in Chicago who hired two writers and 
told them he wanted an answer written to Coin's Financial 
School in ten days. They threw up their hands and said : ' Im 
possible ; we know very little about this question/ f That makes 
no difference/ said the publisher ; ' I want a book and must 
have it. The answer first on the market will have the largest 
sale, and you must throw something together which will make a 
respectable book/ The book was produced and compares very 
favorably with about forty others that were created under about 
the same circumstances. 

' s Then there are the numerous writers for pay " he continued, 
t who will write on either side of any subject for the money to be 
made. They are unconsciously the instruments or slaves of the 
power of money. They will assist in propagating and defending 


a system that is responsible for the disordered condition of soci 
ety, because it makes money for them and relieves their temporary 
necessities which money will provide for. The young man who 
has just attended a conference at the First National Bank con 
cerning the substance of an answer to the book is imbued by no 
high patriotic impulse. He is but an atom in this nervous age 
of money making. His mind is the natural product of the con 
ditions environing his life, and the necessity of procuring the 
comforts of life makes of him what he is." 

" In what way and with what success do they answer the facts 
and arguments in the book ? " asked the quieter man of the two. 

" Most of them," replied the man standing, " go to pieces as 
soon as they hit the financial question, and the reader quits and 
throws down the book. Some of them build up on a theory and 
construct interesting books. Those who undertake to prove that 
the statistics in Coin's book are false will take Coin's table of prices, 
for instance, of wheat, cotton and silver, covering the last twenty- 
one years, and will make a table of their own, different from the 
one in the book, and put the two side by side. Coin gives the annual 
export price at New York, as given by the United States Statis 
tical Abstract, for those years, and the author of the reply will 
take, for instance, Chicago prices, but will not explain with fair 
ness to the reader why the tables do not agree. Thus the two 
tables will differ. But they will both show to the thinker that 
the principle Coin contends for is right, viz. : that prices of prod 
ucts not affected by trusts have declined with silver, and all are 
being measured in appreciated gold. The author of the reply is 
satisfied when he has represented Coin as a liar by his system of 
comparing prices. Those who admit his facts and statistics and 
argue honestly for a gold standard make the best replies." 

" Of all the replies, both fair and unfair, which class do you re 
gard as the most dangerous to the cause the School represents? '* 

" Those vilifying the book and its author. I say that for this 
reason. The book cannot be answered. The next best thing to 
do is to prejudice the people who have not read the book against 
it, so that they will not read it." 

" Yes, but does not this, by exciting the curiosity of the 
people, cause it to be read ? " the man seated inquired. 

"No, not when you convince a man that if he reads it he will 
read a pack of lies ; that the statements and figures are unreliable. 


This removes the desire to read the book. If you want to kill 
the influence of a man, or, as in this instance, a book, use ridi 
cule and abuse. By calling a man an ' anarchist/ ' crank/ e re- 
pudiator/ ' lunatic,' and * blatant orator,' an impression will 
be created among all except the followers of the * crank ' and 
1 lunatic/ that the man is more or less such a person. This is the 
most effective weapon that has ever been or can be used on those 
who seek a reform that interferes with the power of money or the 
dominion of property over human hearts. Money has no patri 
otism. It has no moral principles. If the life of the govern 
ment were in danger to-morrow, as it was in 1861-65, the money 
power would hold it up by the throat. In fact, it is now strangling 
the government. It smiles on you when you recognize its power 
but will crush you if you antagonize it, just as it induced Pontius 
Pilate and the officials of that government to kill Jesus Christ 
and scatter His followers. It is now only partially aroused ; if 
the danger to it continues to rise in this country it will exhibit 
all its strength and it will be terrible ! It will seize the govern 
ment. Official despotism will follow. Men whose characters 
have been moulded and made by the conditions leading up to the 
present situation, when elected to office, become the servants of 
this power. Their salaries are not reduced ; if changed at all 
the salaries are raised. The purchasing power of their dollars is 
increased by the system they defend. Their self interest goes 
with the money power and they court its favors and look for a 
soft spot, financially, on which to land at the end of their term 
of office. They seemingly become heartless concerning the com 
mon masses the plain people hence, official despotism. These 
are the conditions that come with the breaking down of 
a government as a natural result of the money power 
absorbing the wealth of the people. I do not mean any man in 
dividually, or any number of men collectively, when I speak of the 
money power. It is a thing impersonal. It is a grasping, per 
verse nature cultivated in man, that seizes upon the use of money 
to accomplish its evil purpose. It is most dangerous because it 
gives strength and prominence to those* who advocate its cause, 
and has the appearance of being a just and reasonable right under 
the laws of man for the disposal of property. It is not so easy 
for men to see that its tendency is evil and its victims millions, 
when their eyes are blinded by the dazzling blaze of possibilities 


of wealth for themselves. The right to accumulate unnecessary 
property and to produce distress among the people is not a divine 
right, and should not be guaranteed by human laws/' 

The man who had thus spoken paused, and, as he did so, the 
man who had been seated rose and walked across the floor with 
his head bowed and his hands behind him. Nothing more was 
said by either for several minutes. Suddenly the one who had 
listened and thus been impressed, said : 

"And what is the end ? " 

''Monarchy! " was the reply, and then continuing: "Mon 
archy, where man's liberty is suppressed, free speech and a free 
press abolished, and the poor held in subjection, standing armies 
increased, police protection and a rule of might prevail, where 
all recognize but one master, the power of wealth. To acknowl 
edge the principle of which I speak would be serving another 
god than wealth. The men on whom a suffering race must de 
pend to advance its cause and secure the needed laws have not 
in monarchies the right of free speech, let alone the strength 
to overcome the power of money. Men of unusual wealth will 
always take sides with this evil power to assist in crushing out a 
demand for reform which is but a cry for justice." 

Both men were now standing facing each other, and, as the 
philosopher who advocated the doctrine of Christ ceased speaking, 
the other asked: 

"How do you account for its taking two thousand years to 
again involve the world ?" 

" The unexplored portions of the world/' was the reply, " were 
escape valves for the poorer people, and they fled from the rigors of 
humiliation galling to liberty-loving natures by emigration into 
modern Europe, and in the last four hundred years to this conn- 
try. The damming up of the stream has now come. There is 
no unexplored part of the world left suitable for men to inhabit, 
and justice now stands at bay, confronted by an enemy confident 
of its strength and as heartless and unrelenting as it is selfish/' 

" On which side are we ? " earnestly asked the other. 

" On the side of justice." In a prompt and animated tone came 
the reply, and the two men simultaneously extended their right 
hands and joined them together in a hearty grasp to seal the 
promise that day given one to the other. 





THREE critics have raised their voices against me in this mag 
azine. I desire, first of all, to pay my compliments to Mr. Haz- 
eltine. My dealings with him shall be reserved fto the end. Mr. 
Cox and Mr. Seidl pair together exceedingly well. They are 
closely allied intellectually. Both possess the identical four char 
acteristics that mark them as members of the same family. They 
write in bad faith, they are vulgar, they are ignorant, and they 
are incapable of argumentation. Whenever I detect these feat 
ures in critics, I am accustomed to pass them by with a shrug of 
the shoulder. They have no claim upon recognition. And in 
answering them, I do so merely out of respect for the place where 
their production appeared and for the public which has done 
them the honor of reading it. 


MR. Cox imputes to me the statement that the predilection of 
the middle and lower classes for chromos is an indication of their 
intellectual sanity. I never said anything of the kind. What I 
do say is that " only a very small minority take any sincere delight 
in the new ' departures/ " which I characterize as morbid, while 
the Philistine and Proletarian, whom I would still consider men 
tally sound, find these "departures" repellent. And for that 
reason the aversion of the masses to Pointillists and Pipists, to 
Symbolists and White- washers, and not their predilection for 
popular chromos, is a proof of their intellectual sanity. This 
predilection is proof only of their scanty training in art. Take 
the Philistine or Proletarian who revels in the despised chromos. 
Conduct him frequently through the museum. Show him the 


magic of color of Titiaii and Rubens, the harmony of Rembrandt, 
the force of Velasquez and Franz Hals, the honest drafting of 
Memling, Holbein, and Diirer, the temperament and depth of 
feeling of Murillo and Correggio, and, above all, the more than 
human truth and beauty and spirituality of Leonardo, culti 
vate his eye and his taste with those splendors, and the sound 
Philistine and Proletarian will come to be ashamed of his exulta 
tion over poor chromos ; he will esteem and appreciate the labors 
of true artists, but will despise the hystericals, idiots and sensation 
hunters of the brush even more than before his art culture ; for 
he will then perceive bettor tluin now how far removed from true 
art the aberration of these persons is. But the case of the small, 
though noisy, minority of degenerates, who have made the aber 
rations of art fashionable, is hopeless. They have enjoyed the 
benefit of an aesthetic training. They know the art collections. 
They have seen the eternal masters. But they have a sense for 
no normal beauty, and only for irritating curiosities, which are 
insults to taste, logic and morals. And thus the criterion of the 
sanity or morbidity of the masses and of the minority is not what 
attitude they may assume towards the odious chromo, but their 
attitude towards the aberrations of art. 

Mr. Cox speaks of my "arrogance," and my "total inability 
to comprehend art." I am arrogant because I am not of one 
opinion with him. He simply assumes that his opinion is self- 
evidently and indisputably correct ; from which, of course, the 
logical deduction is that a divergent opinion must not only be 
false but also malicious. Such a degree of artless self-confidence 
disarms. And as far as my " total inability to comprehend art " 
is concerned, I have long been familiar with that kind of phrase. 
It has always been with these that the fanatic advocates of luna 
cies in art and literature have endeavored to intimidate the poor 
folk that refuse to recognize anything but lunacies in them. 
" Do you not find that Ganguin, that Van Gogh are great artists? 
Then you are totally unable to comprehend art." The poor people 
at whose heads this condemnation is hurled are frightened. It 
is hard to be declared incapable of understanding art. To escape 
this frightful disqualification they make desperate efforts to 
admire Ganguin and Van Gogh. The reputation of many an 
artist and poet of Mallarme, for instance is solely the result 
of this terrorism exercised upon timid and fragile natures by fools 
YOL. CLXI. sro. 464. 6 


or buffoons. Who does not know the old Oriental fairy tale, 
repeated by Andersen, and finally dramatized by Ludwig Fulda, 
in which a swindler sells an Egyptian sultan a wonderful cloth, 
which possesses the peculiarity of being visible only to the 
virtuous, while it remains invisible to the vicious ? The cloth has 
no existence, the astute cheat only goes through the motions of 
unrolling, measuring, and cutting, but holds nothing in his 
hand. The sultan does not see any cloth, neither do the cour 
tiers. But no one dares avow this. Everybody admires the 
non-existing cloth, and praises its imaginary gorgeousness with 
the choicest adjectives. For if anybody had owned that he saw 
nothing but empty air, he would thereby have furnished the proof 
of his depravity. The imposture is ended only when a small 
child in its innocence and frankness exclaims that it cannot com 
prehend what the others mean by speaking of a beautiful cloth ; 
it sees no cloth ; there certainly is no cloth. Scarcely credible 
though it be, this improbable fairy tale is repeated daily. 
A fool or an impostor points to some idiotic work and says : 
"Here is a master-production. Whoever recognizes its beauty 
is an art connoisseur; whoever does not recognize its beauty 
demonstrates his 'total inability to comprehend art/" And 
the public, cowardly and intimidated, like the Egyptian cour 
tiers of the story, actually exclaims : " How wonderful is this 
work of art I" although it, of course, sees well enough that the 
work is not wonderful, but ineffably idiotic, that it is the delir 
ium of a lunatic, or the childish effort of incompetence, or the 
mystification of a humbug. 

Mr. Cox says of my analysis of the Pre-Raphaelite school : 
" This is somewhat like slaying the dead." He does not perceive 
that by this incidental phrase he destroys his whole polemic 
against me and brands it as frivolous, and that, provided his 
statement is correct, he completely justifies my attitude. For, if 
Pre -Raphael it ism is dead, it must assuredly have perished because 
it was not fit to survive, because it was morbid ; and the whole ob 
ject of the chapter which Mr. Cox assails is, after all, only to 
prove that Pre-Raphaelitism is morbid, is not fit to survive. But 
Mr. Cox's statement is untrue. While it may be that Pre- 
Raphaelitism has been vanquished in England it is just begin 
ning on the Continent to exercise its baneful influence. In 
the salon of the Champ du Mars, this year, I find at least a 


dozen painters whose pictures are completely dominated by the 
influence of Sir E. Bu rue- Jones. I only mention Aman-Jean, 
Ary-Renan, Hawkins, Monod, W. Stott, Picard, Osbers. I 
might easily double or even treble the enumeration. In view of 
this epidemic of imitation my chapter was not superfluous. 

" Modern Painters was not a collection of studies," says Mr. 
Cox. Well, then, he has never had the book in his hand. For 
Ruskin himself says in the preface that the book grew out of in 
dividual studies ; and we all know that individual portions, for 
instance the essay on Turner and English Landscape painting, 
appeared before the publication of the first volume of Modern 
Painters, which contains an elaboration of that essay. 

In reference to my statement that the Pre-Raphaelites "got all 
their leading principles from Ruskin," Mr.. Cox says : (f This has 
been disproved again and again. Raskin took up the movement 
and explained it after it was started." Evidently Mr. Cox does 
not know what he is speaking about. He confuses Modern Paint 
ers with Pre-Rapliaelitism. Modern Painters first began to ap 
pear in 1843. The Pre-Raphaelite movement was started towards 
the end of the 'Forties. Ruskin's Pre-Raphaelitism appeared in 
1851. Mr. Cox never read Hall Game's and W. Sharp's memoirs 
of Rossetti. He is unacquainted with Holrnan Hunt's autobiog 
raphy. Otherwise he would have seen how Hunt and Hall 
Caine, speak of the influence of the first volume of Modern 
Painters upon Rossetti, Millais and Hunt. Neither has he seen 
Robert de Sixeraune's book, La Peinture-Anglaise Moderne. 
There, too, it is expressly stated that " Penche sur ce livre 
(namely, Ruskin's Modern Painters), Holman Hunt y puisait 
comme une seconde vie." There is no doubt that Pre-Raphael- 
itism was written by Ruskin after the movement was well under 
way. But he wrote it because he felt obliged to defend a move 
ment which had sprung from his book, Modern Painters. 

The principle of Pre-Raphaelitism is that "in order to express 
devotion and noble feeling, the artist must be defective in form." 
Mr. Cox adds hereto : " This nonsense is Nordau's own." Read 
the literal passages from Ruskin : " A rude symbol is oftener more 
efficient than a refined one in touching the heart. ... As 
pictures rise in rank as works of art they are regarded with less 
devotion and more curiosity. . . . The picture which has 
the nobler and more numerous ideas, however awkwardly ex- 


pressed, is a greater and a better picture than that which has the 
less noble and less numerous ideas, however beautifully expressed. 
. . . The less sufficient the means appear to the end, the 
greater will be the sensation of power." And now judge for 
yourself whether this nonsense is Nordau's or Ruskin's. " No 
such principle/' says Mr. Cox, " was ever announced by the Pre- 
Raphaelite Brotherhood as that artists should be deformed." 
Again, Mr. Cox has never read the expressions, " divine crooked 
ness," and " holy awkwardness" which Pre-Raphaelites have ap 
plied to poorly drawn pictures. 

I say, " Rossetti's father gave him the name of the great 
poet " (Dante). Cox observes : " His father did nothing of the 
kind. . . . He adopted the ' Dante Mater, and all Nordau's 
argument of the influence of his name upon his character falls to 
the ground." Read the following first strophe of Dante Gabriel 
Rossetti's poem : " Dante's Tenebrae. In memory of my father : " 

" And didst thou know, indeed, when at the font, 
Together with thy name thou gav'st me his, 
That also on thy son must Beatrice 
Decline her eyes, according to her wont ?" 

Now, what falls to the ground ? Mr. Cox has the assurance to 
add : " Apparently our author can be accurate in nothing ? 
He speaks of the 'P. R. B.' exhibition in 1849 as if it were 
a separate exhibition of the Brotherhood alone." What I 
said was literally this : " In the spring of 1849 they exhibited in 
London a number of pictures and statues." There is not a syllable 
here to indicate that it was a separate exhibition. That point 
was left altogether untouched. Mr. Cox seems to take umbrage 
at my statement that " Rossetti soon exchanged the brush for 
the pen." I submit if this is not the correct description of the 
activity of a man who, in the first part of his artistic activity 
principally painted and only at rare intervals versified, while 
later on he scarcely ever painted and never exhibited, but, on the 
other hand, wrote copiously and published his writings ? 

" He cannot even describe a picture correctly, for he says 
that the figure of Christ in Holman Hunt's ' Shadow of the 
Cross ' is standing in the Oriental attitude of prayer, . . . 
the shadow of his body falling on the ground. Both the state 
ments I have italicized are untrue." The only thing which is 
untrue is the presumptuous assertion of Mr. Cox. Christ stands 


with outstretched arms, and the shadow of the body together with 
the outstretched arms is precisely what constitutes the cross. I was 
in England when Holman Hunt's picture was first exhibited. It 
gave occasion at the time to an extensive newspaper controversy. 
The painter and his friends maintained that Christ was painted 
in an Oriental attitude of prayer. Oriental travellers and savans 
replied that no Oriental prays with outstretched arms. It is not 
my province to decide this question. It suffices for me that Hol 
man Hunt had the intention and the conviction of painting 
Christ in an Oriental attitude of prayer. 

Mr. Cox seeks to demonstrate that I am wofully at variance 
with myself. He does this by placing in juxtaposition such 
passages of my book, as he has partly not understood and partly 
misrepresented. I am made to say that the painter is not per 
mitted to draw the ideal form of things for " the ideal form is an 
assumption. ... To exclude individual features from a 
phenomenon as unessential and accidental, and to retain others 
as intrinsic and necessary is to reduce it to an abstract idea; " 
and then I am quoted as having said later: "For the artist, in 
his creation, separates the essential from the accidental, . . . 
divines the idea behind the structure . . . and discloses it 
in his work to the spectator." This looks serious in good sooth, 
and seems to justify Mr. Cox's comment : " It is not often that any 
one can be so superbly inconsistent as this." The truth is that 
the inconsistency has been produced artificially by Mr. Cox, and 
that no reader in good faith will find it in my book. 

Buskin says: " There is an ideal form of every herb, flower 
and tree. It is that form to which every individual of the species 
has a tendency to attain, freed from the influence of accident or 
disease," and he goes on to say: " To recognize and to reproduce 
this ideal form is the one great task of the painter." I contest 
this thesis of Buskin's and show that it cannot possibly be the 
painter's task to paint an "ideal form," that is a "schema." 
(The English translation of this portion of my book is not wholly 
correct. I beg to be permitted to stand by the German original. 
Nobody can hold me responsible for the individual expressions of 
a translation which I did not review.) " The ' schema,'" I con 
tinue, " presupposes a conception of the law which conditions 
the phenomenon. This conception" (not "idea," as the English 
translation renders it) "may be erroneous, it varies with the 


reigning scientific theories; the painter does not reproduce vary 
ing scientific theories, but sensible impressions; the 'schema* ex 
cites intellectual labor and not emotion, and the province of art 
is the excitation of emotion." 

And on page 333 I say : " The emotion ... is ... 
a means of obtaining knowledge. ... It constrains the 
higher centres to attend to the causes of their excitations, and 
in this way necessarily induces a sharper observation and com 
prehension of the whole series of phenomena related to the emo 
tion. Next, the work of art grants an insight into the laws of 
which the phenomenon is the expression, for the artist, in his 
creation, separates the essential from the accidental . . . and 
involuntarily gives prominence to the former as that which chiefly 
or solely occupies his attention, and is therefore perceived and 
reproduced by him with especial distinctness" Mr. Cox has 
suppressed the italicized lines. They contain the kernel of 
my idea. They prove that no such inconsistency was perpetrated 
by me, as Mr. Cox suggests. Euskin insists that the painter 
must have a complete conception of the law which conceals itself 
behind the phenomenon, and that he must have a clear conscious 
ness and intention of reproducing the phenomenon in such a way 
as to express that law with clearness. I declare that to be false 
and unartistic. I say contrariwise that the artist meets the phe 
nomenon with an emotion ; this emotion directs his attention to 
those features of the phenomenon which are the cause of the emo 
tion ; in consequence whereof he gives prominence to these features 
and neglects the others because they escape his notice. And when 
the picture is finished it does not show the phenomenon object 
ively, as is the case with a photograph, but it is just what the 
painter perceived it to be subjectively by dint of his emotion. 
And if the painter is a divining genius, his artistic emotion 
will be aroused by the expression of the great nature-forces, or, 
in other words, the eternal laws of nature in the phenomenon, 
and through his picture the great nature-forces, the eternal laws 
of nature, speak more plainly than through the phenomenon itself 
when viewed by one who does not possess the analytic and class 
ifying artistic emotion of a divining genius. In short, 
Ruskin wants the artist to have a predetermined opinion ; 
[ want him to allow the phenomenon to operate upon him. 
Buskin wants thought-labor; I want emotion. Ruskin wants 


the artist to consciously impart into the phenomenon a rational 
conception; I want him to unconsciously give prominence to 
such individual features of the phenomenon as will enable the be 
holder to perceive a distinct law. Ruskin wants painting to be 
the art of the conscious; I want it to be the art of the uncon 
scious. I am at variance with Ruskin, but not with myself. 

There is another untruthful assertion of Mr. Cox's connected 
with this discussion. He says that I " make my own that doctrine 
of absolute fidelity to fact which is the worst feature of Ruskin's 
teaching." I do exactly the reverse. I even demonstrate that 
' ' absolute fidelity to fact " is utterly impossible to the painter. 
(P. 476-7. " It might be thought, perhaps, that . . . paint 
ing and sculpture are capable of a faithful reproduction of reality. 
. . . This is an error. It would never occur to a painter or 
a sculptor to place himself before a phenomenon, and reproduce 
it without selection, without accentuations and suppressions. 
. . . Involuntarily he will accentuate and throw into relief 
the feature which has inspired him with the desire to imitate the 
aspect in question, and his luork, consequently, will no more re 
present the phenomenon as it really ivas, but as he saw it ; it will 
only be a fresh proof, therefore, of his emotion, not the cast of a 
phenomenon.") Is this clear ? Is it possible to be less correct 
than Mr. Cox when he maintains that I require " absolute fidelity 
to fact" from the painter ? 

Mr. Cox speaks of my "fury at witticisms," and states that ac 
cording to me the tendency to perpetrate these is one of the great 
signs of mental degeneration. I never once spoke of witticisms, 
but of puns. Puns are, indeed, a proof of the association of ideas 
solely according to the similarity of sound of the words, but they 
make little or no requisition upon the reasoning faculty. And 
such a purely mechanical association is evidence of defective ideal 
ism and of insufficient intellectual strength. 

" The way in which diametrically opposite symptoms prove 
the same disease seems strange to the unscientific mind," says 
Mr. Cox. So much the worse for the unscientific mind. It may 
seem strange to him that excessive irritability, for instance, and 
its apparently direct reverse, dullness, and even total insensibility, 
are symptoms of the same disease, nervous exhaustion. But any 
"scientific mind" will teach Mr. Cox that this is a fact. 

Mr. Cox reproaches me with " never praising any artist . . . 


except those whose reputation is so firmly established as to be be 
yond all cavil." This is intended as a proof of my " insensibility 
to art." Mr. Cox is not the inventor of this ridiculous reproach. 
A wise Theban cast it up to me once before. My answer to him 
shall serve as my answer now. What ! I write a book about 
" Degeneration." I say in the title, in the preface, in the in 
troduction, in the concluding chapter, ten times, one hundred 
times, that I desire to occupy myself only with the pathological 
aspect of Degeneration, only with its manifestations in art and 
literature ; and now I am reproached for speaking in my book on 
" Degeneration " precisely of the degenerate ones whom I cannot 
praise, and not of sound artists whom I can praise ! You might 
as well chide the author of a work on special diseases for not 
speaking of foot-ball champions and record-breakers in high and 
broad jumping, or the author of a work on insanity for not dwell 
ing upon people with a phenomenally sound intellect. I have 
praised plenty of artists and literati who had no established 
reputation, and towards the establishment of whose reputation I 
was fortunate enough to be of assistance. Whoever has read my 
other books, whoever has read my Studies of the Paris. Salons in 
the Vienna Neue Freie Presse, or in the Berlin Vossisclie 
Zeitung, is aware of that. But, surely my book on (f Degenera 
tion" was not the place to express my views of sound artists. 

" What he does praise or admire in art is almost always suc 
cessful imitation." I have just now shown that this is false. 
Imitation plays no part in my theory of art. I even affirm that 
bare imitation of art is impossible for psychological reasons. 
" There is no sign that beauty of line or fine composition has ever 
appeared to him to exist." On page 80 I discussed the means by 
which a picture awakens feelings of pleasure, and I find that 
these means are, firstly (not " solely"), the agree.ible sensorial 
impression of beautiful color-harmony ; secondly, an illusion of 
actuality and the pleasure attendant upon the recognition of the 
represented phenomenon ; thirdly, the perception of the emotions 
which prompted the artist to give prominence to certain features 
of the phenomenon, such as the inartistic beholder failed to per 
ceive so plainly before. But how else can the second and third 
of these effects be produced than by the " beauty of line and com 
position," that is, the drawing or the modelling of the figures 
and the arrangement of the groups ? 


After all, the objections hazarded by Mr. Cox might almost all 
be well founded, Mr. Cox might be right in almost every point 
wherein he finds fault with me, and I be wrong, and still he would 
not have touched the real nucleus of the work from afar. Whether 
the Pre-Raphaelites exhibited alone or in consort with others in 1849, 
or whether Rossetti's name was Dante or not, does not in the least 
affect the thesis for the proof of which I wrote my book : 
namely, thai certain fashion tendencies of art are morbid and 
that they are rooted in the degenerateness of their inventors. 
Mr. Cox's hair-splitting arguments do not even touch this 


I HAVE but little to say to Anton Seidl. In his three pages 
of frightful ejaculations I have found only two statements 
which have demonstrated themselves as correct. I am said 
to have used Praeger's biography as a prop for my assertions 
concerning Wagner. My chapter on Wagner covers forty-three 
pages. Praeger is mentioned in it only once. That passage is, 
"For Wagner's persecution mania we have the testimony of his 
most recent biographer and friend, Ferdinand Praeger, who re 
lates that, for years, Wagner was convinced that the Jews had con 
spired to prevent the representation of his operas." This is the 
only reference to Praeger, who is not mentioned before nor after 
ward, whose book I have not used in any other place, from whom 
I have taken no other allegation. And those few lines afford 
Anton Seidl a pretext to maintain that I drew materials from him 
1 ( to substantiate my silly accusations." I would not have needed 
to have recourse to Praeger even for the information that Wagner 
imagined himself persecuted by the Jews, as there is other testi 
mony in great abundance to the same effect. 

The second statement is that I "cite Nietzsche as a competent 
critic of Wagner's dramatic poetry, but reject Nietzsche as of 
imbecile judgement in critizing Wagner, the musician/' I was 
speaking of the part which the salvation idea played with Wagner 
and said, page 184 : " Nietzsche has already remarked this and 
makes merry over it, with repulsively superficial witticisms." 
And thus I cite Nietzsche as a '' competent critic of Wagner's 
dramatic poetry"! Any other reader than Anton Seidl would 
understand this passage to mean that "Wagner's salvation- 


stupidity was so palpable that even a lunatic like Nietzsche could 

not help perceiving it." 


MR. HAZELTINE regards the question which I sought to deal 
with from a lofty point of view. In noble terms appropriate 
to his noble train of thinking, he, too, deplores the chaotic 
state of the times. But his views concerning the fin de siecle 
malady differ from mine in three respects. Mr. Hazel tine does 
not believe that this malady is a new manifestation; he does not 
believe that it is caused by degeneration ; and he does not recog 
nize its aetiology in the effects of the new inventions, the growth 
of the great cities, and the ravages of stimulating poisons, partic 
ularly of alcohol ; but, rather, in the loss of religious faith. 

It were a pleasure to me to be able to coincide with so distin 
guished a mind as Mr. Hazeltine's even in the minutest detail. 
Objections raised by him demand serious reflection. 

I have examined Mr. Hazeltine's arguments with respect, with 
sympathy and free from a spirit of vain antagonism. He will 
pardon me if I tell him that I really believe that I can reply to 
his objections and uphold my theses. 

I am grateful to Mr. Hazeltine for not charging me with the 
delusion of imagining that the views which our times afford are 
not something unique and hitherto unheard of. The celebrated 
sociologist of Gratz, Professor Gumplovicz, has proposed the 
names " Akrochronism " and " Akrotopism" to designate this 
rather wide-spread error. He applies these words to that mental 
defect which consists in making one believe that one's own age 
and the place wherein one lives are something which never had 
their parallel. I have striven to avoid this error of the mind. I 
was so much struck by the similarity of our times with the age of 
decline of the Roman Empire that I laid especial stress and dwelt 
upon it in one of my former books, " The Conventional Lies of 
Cultured Humanity." But just as it has been said that "a 
little philosophy leadeth away from God, but a great deal thereof 
leadeth back again," so I should like to say that " a little knowl 
edge of history leads one to believe in the similarity between 
different epochs, but more knowledge shows that the similarity 
is only apparent, and that the difference is really very great." 

In Rome, at the Decline, we find precisely as at the present 
day, an unravelling of all moral bonds, ferocity in manners, un- 


sparing egotism, sensualism and brutality ; we find multitudes 
whose loathing of life impels them to suicide. The realistic 
literature of a Petronius is the counterpart of the novels of a 
Zola, only that there is more humor and wholesome satire in one 
chapter of the Cena Trimalchionis than in all the two dozen 
volumes of the Rougon-Macquart combined. The luxuriating 
of the neo-Platonism reminds one of the neo-mystic movement of 
our own times. In so far, the similarity is striking. The diver 
gence begins when we consider not the immoral, but rather the 
delirium-reeking literature and art of the present day, and do 
not overlook the concomitant phenomena of the social life. No 
record has been preserved to show us that the decay of manners 
in Eome increased the rate of drunkenness, insanity and impul 
sive crimes for we must distinguish impulsive crimes from those 
crimes which yield a palpable advantage to their perpetrators. 
To-day this increased ratio is observable in all centers of civiliza 
tion, at least, in Europe. Furthermore, we find in Rome at the 
decline a retrogression of the arts, the works become more 
slovenly, heavy and awkward, but still, antiquity does not furnish 
us with such poets as Mallarme, Sar Peladan, Maeterlink, such 
philosophers as Nietzsche, such artists as Henry Martin, Monet, 
Pissarro, Van Gogh, or Trachsel. In these respects I see an 
essential difference between our age and preceding epochs which 
seem to bear a resemblance to it. 

Mr. Hazeltine's views are quite correct so far as they go. 
But he has confined himself to only one side of the question 
and neglected the other side. He sees only the immoral tenden 
cies of the present time. Such tendencies have been observed 
heretofore from time to time, particularly in the wake of occur 
rences which shook the social fabric, such as wars, revolutions 
and epidemics. They imply neither degeneration nor insanity, 
but the uncaging of the beast in persons who are held in check in 
normal times by the wholesome fear of police and judges. But 
in our day I see, besides the immoral tendencies, delirious ten 
dencies, and concerning these, Mr. Hazeltine is silent. Tolstoi is 
not immoral. Neither are the Pre-Raphaelites, and Wagner is 
so only by reason of the excess of his erotic emotions. But 
they are mystico-confused. Their ideation is abnormal. 
Their theories of art and social reform are identical with 
those which the psychist meets with in his educated patients, 


and of ten even, although in a more naive, less developed degree, 
in his patients of the lower social strata. Immorality alone 
would not justify the diagnosis of degeneration. That much I 
will at once concede to Mr. Hazeltine. But deliriums do 
justify the diagnosis ; and yet of the forms of delirium which I 
dwelt upon at large, Mr. Hazeltine has said nothing. And the 
diagnosis is supported by the aforementioned concomitant phe 
nomena of the non-artistic and non-literary kind, which cannot 
be traced to immorality alone, like the increased rate of insanity, 
imbecility, idiocy and impulsive crimes, but which certainly 
may be traced to degeneration. 

The epoch of the troubadours of Provence occupies a unique 
position. At that time immorality and decay of manners were 
not, as in the Rome of the decline, the main features ; but there 
were then, as now, in the literary and social life distinct signs of 
deliriums erotomania, mystico-mania, and a certain degree of 
Masochism (a sickly revelling in the thought of being the slave 
of a woman and of being ready to suffer for or through her). 

That would, indeed, seem to establish a similarity between 
that era and ours. But, according to all that we know of the 
confusions of the mediaeval period, these were not phenomena of 
degeneration, but rather epidemics of hysteria ; and this hysteria 
was simply a consequence of the excitements attendant upon the 
terror preceding the year 1,000, then upon the crusades and later 
upon the black-death. 

And now we come to the aetiological question. Mr. Hazel- 
tine makes religious decay responsible for the disease of this age 
as well aa for the morbid phenomena of the twelfth century and 
of the time of the Roman Empire. He denies that over-exertion 
had anything to do with it. He is convinced that humanity can 
adapt itself without injury to every new invention. I, myself, 
believe that. But time is required for the adaptation, and mean 
time generations of less adaptable persons perish for lack of or 
ganic fitness. And as far as over-exertion is concerned, it really 
does seem almost paradoxical to say that the "upper ten "live 
more comfortably and more peaceably to-day than their ancestors 
before the introduction of the railroad, the telegraph, the tele 
phone, the globe-trotting mania and the ubiquitous interviewer. 
I treated the argument of over-exertion very fully in Degenera 
tion. I adduced numerous statistics there in corroboration. I 


do not wish to repeat the figures here. There is, in my mind, 
no doubt of the existence of the over-exertion, the multiplication 
of all sensations, the manifolding of the services that are re 
quired of us. Lack of faith explains but few of the present phe 
nomena. It does not even explain those of the Koman de 
cline and the turmoils of the twelfth century. For the 
educated classes of Augustan Rome, while the empire was still 
new, young and strong, were just as sceptical as two centuries 
later; and the belief of the illiterate masses in the third century 
was identically the same as in the first century. Their religion 
was an uncouth, naive superstition, and even their Christianity, 
when they adopted it, was only a change of name applied to their 
ancient views, which remained essentially the same. And to 
charge the twelfth century with infidelity would require no little 
temerity! Contact with Islam can rob no one of faith, for 
faith is nowhere rooted deeper than among Mohammedans. At 
the commencement of our era also, and also in the twelfth cen 
tury, other elements besides infidelity were at work to produce an 
intellectual epidemic. To-day that is surely the case, as we are 
subject to sensations which radically transmute the life and habits 
of every man, and to a cause of perturbation which was known 
neither in old Rome nor in the twelfth century; that is to say, 
the stimulating poisons, especially alcohol, which has been dis 
tilled only since the eighth century and has come into general use 
only in recent years. 

I believe I have established my thesis. Our age certainly has 
individual features in common with other ages, but at no time 
known to me were there, in addition to phenomena of mere 
brutality and lewdness, so many symptoms of organic ruin observ 
able as now. The diagnosis " degeneration" is justified by 
these symptoms of organic ruin, and is more applicable to our 
times than to previous epochs. And infidelity cannot be the sole 
or even the principal cause ; for to assume so would be equivalent 
to shutting one's eyes completely to alcoholism and to over-exer 
tion, which are discovered as the aetiology in numerous cases. 

I have weighed Mr. Hazeltine's arguments seriously. I beg 
him also to ponder mine. The questions that engage both of us 
are of the number of those which are most deserving to occupy 
the human mind. 





MR. KIDD'S "Social Evolution" is distinctly one of the books 
of the year. It has been called a great book ; but this it is not, 
for the writer is burdened by a certain mixture of dogmatism and 
superficiality, which makes him content to accept half truths and 
insist that they are whole truths. 

He deserves credit for appreciating what he calls "the out 
look." He sketches graphically, and with power, the problems 
which now loom up for settlement before all of us who dwell in 
Western lands ; and he portrays the varying attitudes of interest, 
alarm, and hope with which the thinkers and workers of the day 
regard these problems. He points out that the problems which 
now face us are by no means parallel to those that were solved by 
our forefathers one, two or three centuries ago. The great poli 
tical revolutions seem to be about complete and the time of the 
great social revolutions has arrived. We are all peering eagerly into 
the future to try to forecast the action of the great dumb forces set 
in operation by the stupendous industrial revolution which has 
taken place during the present century. We do not know what 
to make of the vast displacements of population, the expansion 
of the towns, the unrest and discontent of the masses, and the 
uneasiness of those who are devoted to the present order of things. 

Mr. Kidd sees these problems, but he gropes blindly when he 
tries to forecast their solution. He sees that the progress of man 
kind in past ages can only have been made under and in accordance 
with certain biological laws, and that these laws continue to work 
in human society at the present day. He realizes the all import 
ance of the laws which govern the reproduction of mankind from 
generation to generation precisely as they govern the reproduction 
of the lower animals, and which, therefore, largely govern his 
progress. But he makes a cardinal mistake in treating of this 
kind of progress. He states with the utmost positiveness that, 
left to himself, man has not the slightest innate tendency to make 
any onward progress whatever, and that if the conditions of 
life allowed each man to follow his own inclinations the average 
of one generation would always tend to sink below the average of 
the preceding. This is one of the sweeping generalizations of 


which Mr. Kidd is fond, and which mar so much of his work. 
He evidently finds great difficulty in stating a general law with 
the proper reservations and with the proper moderation of phrase; 
and so he enunciates as truths statements which contain a truth, 
but which also contain a falsehood. What he here says is un 
doubtedly true of the world, taken as a whole. It is in all proba 
bility entirely false of the highest sections of society. At any 
rate, there are numerous instances where the law he states does 
not work ; and of course a single instance oversets a sweeping 
declaration of such a kind. 

There can be but little quarrel with what Mr. Kidd says as to 
the record of the world being a record of ceaseless progress on the 
one hand, and ceaseless stress and competition on the other; al 
though even here his statement is too broad, and his terms are 
used carelessly. When he speaks of progress being ceaseless, he 
evidently means by progress simply change, so that as he uses the 
word it must be understood to mean progress backward as well as 
forward. As a matter of fact, in many forms of life and for long 
ages there is absolutely no progress whatever and no change, the 
forms remaining practically stationary. 

Mr. Kidd further points out that the first necessity for every 
successful form engaged in this struggle is the capacity for repro 
duction beyond the limits which the conditions of life comfortably 
provide for, so that competition and selection must not only al 
ways accompany progress, but must prevail in every form of life 
which is not actually retrograding. As already said, he accepts 
without reservation the proposition that if all the individuals of 
every generation in any species were allowed to propagate their 
kind equally, the average of each generation would tend to fall 
below the preceding. 

From this position he draws as a corollary, that the wider the 
limits of selection, the keener the rivalry and the more rigid the 
selection, just so much greater will be the progress ; while for 
any progress at all there must be some rivalry in selection, so 
that every progressive form must lead a life of continual strain 
and stress as it travels its upward path. This again is true in a 
measure, but is not true as broadly as Mr. Kidd has stated it. 
The rivalry of natural selection is but one of the features in pro 
gress. Other things being equal, the species where this rivalry 
is keenest will make most progess ; but then "other things" 


never are equal. In actual life those species make most progress 
which are farthest removed from the point where the limits of 
selection are very wide, the selection itself very rigid, and the 
rivalry very keen. Of course the selection is most rigid where 
the fecundity of the animal is greatest ; but it is precisely the 
forms which have most fecundity that have made least progress. 
Some time in the remote past the guinea pig and the dog had a 
common ancestor. The fecundity of the guinea pig is much 
greater than that of the dog. Of a given number of guinea pigs 
born, a much smaller proportion are able to survive in the keen 
rivalry, so that the limits of selection are wider, and the selection 
itself more rigid ; nevertheless the progress made by the progen 
itors of the dog since eocene days has been much more marked and 
rapid than the progress made by the progenitors of the guinea pig 
in the same time. 

Moreover, in speaking of the rise that has come through the 
stress of competition in our modern societies, and of the keen 
ness of this stress in the societies that have gone fastest, Mr. 
Kidd overlooks certain very curious features in human society. 
In the first place he speaks as though the stress under which na 
tions make progress was primarily the stress produced by multi 
plication beyond the limits of subsistence. This, of course, 
would mean that in progressive societies the number of births 
and the number of deaths would both be at a maximum, for it is 
where the births and deaths are largest that the struggle for life 
is keenest. If, as Mr. Kidd's hypothesis assumes, progress was 
most marked where the struggle for life was keenest, the Euro 
pean people standing highest in the scale would be the South 
Italians, the Polish Jews, and the people who live in the con 
gested districts of Ireland. As a matter of fact, however, these 
are precisely the people who have made least progress when 
compared with the dominant strains among, for instance, the 
English or Germans. So far is Mr. Kidd's proposition from be 
ing true that, when studied in the light of the facts, it is difficult 
to refrain from calling it the reverse of the truth. The race ex 
isting under conditions which make the competition for bare ex 
istence keenest, never progresses as fast as the race which exists 
under less stringent conditions. There must undoubtedly be a 
certain amount of competition, a certain amount of stress and 
strain, but it is equally undoubted that if this competition be- 


comes too severe the race goes down and not up; and it is further 
true that the race existing under the severest stress as regards 
this competition often fails to go ahead as fast even in popula 
tion as does the race where the competition is less severe. No 
matter how large the number of births may be, a race cannot in 
crease if the number of deaths also grows at an accelerating rate. 

To increase greatly a race must be prolific, and there is no curse 
so great as the curse of barrenness, whether for a nation or an 
individual. When a people gets to the position even now oc 
cupied by the mass of the French and fty sections of the New 
Englanders, where the death rate surpasses the birth rate, then 
that race is not only fated to extinction but it deserves extinction. 
When the capacity and desire for fatherhood and motherhood is 
lost the race goes down, and should go down; and we need to 
have the plainest kind of plain speaking addressed to those in 
dividuals who fear to bring children into the world. But while 
this is all true, it remains equally true that immoderate increase 
in no way furthers the development of a race, and does not always 
help its increase even in numbers. The English-speaking peoples 
during the past two centuries and a half have increased faster 
than any others, yet there have been many other peoples whose 
birth rate during the same period has stood higher. 

Yet, again, Mr. Kidd, in speaking of the stress of the con 
ditions of progress in our modern societies fails to see that most 
of the stress to which he refers does not have anything to do 
with increased difficulty in obtaining a living, or with the propa 
gation of the race. The great prizes are battled for among the 
men who wage no war whatever for mere subsistence, while the 
fight for mere subsistence is keenest among precisely the classes 
which contribute very little indeed to the progress of the race. 
The generals and admirals, the poets, philosophers, historians 
and musicians, the statesmen and judges, the law-makers and 
law-givers, the men of arts and of letters, the great captains of 
war and of industry all these come from the classes where the 
struggle for the bare means of subsistence is least severe, and 
where the rate of increase is relatively smaller than in the classes 
below. In civilized societies the rivalry of natural selection 
works against progress. Progress is made in spite of it, for 
progress results not from the crowding out of the lower classes 
by the upper, but on the contrary from the steady rise of the 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 464. 7 


lower classes to the level of the upper, as the latter tend to vanish, 
or at most barely hold their own. In progressive societies it is 
often the least fit who survive ; but, on the other hand, they and 
their children often tend to grow more fit. 

The mere statement of these facts is sufficient to show not 
only how incorrect are many of Mr. Kidd's premises and conclu 
sions, but also how unwarranted are some of the fears which he 
expressess for the future. It is plain that the societies and sec 
tions of societies where the individual happiness is on the whole 
highest, and where progress is most real and valuable, are 
precisely these where the grinding competition and the struggle 
for mere existence is least severe. Undoubtedly in every progres 
sive society there must be a certain sacrifice of individuals, so 
that there must be a certain proportion of failures in every gen 
eration; but the actual facts of life prove beyond shadow of doubt 
that the extent of this sacrifice has nothing to do with the rapid 
ity or worth of the progress. The nations that make most pro 
gress may do so at the expense of ten or fifteen individuals out of 
a hundred, -whereas the nations that make least progress, or even 
go backwards, may sacrifice almost every man out of the hun 

This last statement is in itself partly an answer to the position 
taken by Mr. Kidd, that there is for the individual no ' ' rational 
sanction " for the conditions of progress. In a progressive com 
munity, where the conditions provide for the happiness of four- 
fifths or nine-tenths of the people there is undoubtedly a rational 
sanction for progress both for the community at large and for the 
great bulk of its members ; and if these members are on the 
whole vigorous and intelligent, the attitude of the smaller fraction 
who have failed will be a matter of little consequence. In such 
a community the conflict between the interests of the individual 
and the organism of which he is a part, upon which Mr. Kidd 
lays so much emphasis, is at a minimum. The stress is severest, 
the misery and suffering greatest, among precisely the communi 
ties which have made least progress among the Bushmen, 
Australian black fellows, and root-digger Indians, for instance. 

Moreover, Mr. Kidd does not define what he means by 
" rational sanction." Indeed one of his great troubles throughout 
is his failure to make proper definitions, and the extreme loose 
ness with which he often uses the definitions he does make. 


Apparently by " rational " he means merely selfish, and proceeds 
upon the assumption that " reason " must always dictate to every 
man to do that which will give him the greatest amount of 
individual gratification at the moment, no matter what the cost 
may be to others or to the community at large. This is not so. 
Side by side with the selfish development in life there has been 
almost from the beginning a certain amount of unselfishness 
developed too ; and in the evolution of humanity the unselfish 
side has, on the whole, tended steadily to increase at the expense 
of the selfish, notably in the progressive communities about 
whose future development Mr. Kidd is so ill at ease. A more 
supreme instance of unselfishness than is afforded by motherhood 
cannot be imagined ; and when Mr. Kidd implies, as he does 
very clearly, that there is no rational sanction for the unselfish 
ness of motherhood, for the unselfishness of duty, or loyalty, he 
merely misuses the word rational. When a creature has reached a 
certain stage of development it will cause the female more pain 
to see her offspring starve than to work for it, and she then has a 
very rational reason for so working. When humanity has reached 
a certain stage it will cause the individual more pain, a greater 
sense of degradation and shame and misery, to steal, to murder or 
to lie, than to work hard and suffer discomfort. When man has 
reached this stage he has a very rational sanction for being truth 
ful and honest. It might also parenthetically be stated that when 
he has reached this stage he has a tendency to relieve the suffer 
ings of others, and he has for this course of his the excellent rational 
sanction that it makes him more uncomfortable to see misery un 
relieved than it does to deny himself a little in order to relieve it. 

However, we can cordially agree with Mr. Kidd's proposition 
that many of the social plans advanced by would-be reformers in 
the interests of oppressed individuals are entirely destructive of 
all growth and of all progress in society. Certain cults, not only 
Christian, but also Buddhistic and Brahminic, tend to develop 
an altruism which is as (< supra-natural" as Mr. Kidd seemingly 
desires religion to be ; for it really is without foundation in 
reason, and therefore to be condemned. 

Mr. Kidd repeats again and again that the scientific develop 
ment of the nineteenth century confronts us with the fact that 
the interests of the social organism and of the individual are and 
must remain antagonistic, and the former predominant, and that 


there can never "be fonnd any sanction in individual reason for 
individual good conduct in societies where the conditions of 
progress prevail. From what has been said above it is evident 
that this statement is entirely without basis, and therefore that 
the whole scheme of mystic and highly irrational philosophy 
which he founds upon it at once falls to the ground. There is no 
such necessary antagonism as that which he alleges. On the con 
trary, in the most truly progressive societies, even now, for 
the great mass of the individuals composing them the inter 
ests of the social organism and of the individual are largely identi 
cal instead of antagonistic ; and even where this is not true, there 
is a sanction of individual reason, if we use the word reason prop 
erly, for conduct on the part of the individual which is subor 
dinate to the welfare of the general society. 

We can measure the truth of his statements by applying them, 
not to great societies in the abstract, but to small social organ 
isms in the concrete. Take for instance the life of a regiment or 
the organization of a police department or fire department. The 
first duty of a regiment is to fight, and fighting means the death 
and disabling of a large proportion of the men in the regiment. 
The case against the identity of interests between the individual 
and the organism, as put by Mr. Kidd, would be far stronger in 
a regiment than in any ordinary civilized society of the day. Yet 
as a matter of fact we know that in the great multitude of regi 
ments there is much more subordination of the individual to the 
organism than is the case in any civilized state taken as a whole. 
Moreover, this subordination is greatest in precisely those regi 
ments where the average individual is best off, because it is 
greatest in those regiments where the individual feels that high, 
stern pride in his own endurance and suffering, and in the great 
name of the organism of which he forms a part, that in itself 
yields one of the loftiest of all human pleasures. If Mr. Kidd 
means anything when he says that there is no rational sanction for 
progress he must also mean that there is no rational sanction for 
a soldier not flinching from the enemy when he can do so unob 
served, for a sentinel not leaving his post, for an officer not desert 
ing to the enemy. Yet when he says this he utters what is a mere 
jugglery on words. In the process of evolution men and societies 
have often reached such a stage that the best type of soldier or 
citizen feels infinitely more shame and misery from neglect of 


duty, from cowardice or dishonesty, from selfish abandonment of 
the interests of the organism of which he is part, than can be 
offset by the gratification of any of his desires. This, be it also 
observed, often takes place, entirely independent of any religions 
considerations. The habit of useful self-sacrifice may be de 
veloped by civilization in a great society as well as by military 
training in a regiment. The habit of useless self-sacrifice may 
also, unfortunately, be developed ; and those who practice it are 
but one degree less noxious than the individuals who sacrifice 
good people to bad. 

The religious element in our development is that on which 
Mr. Kidd most strongly dwells, entitling it " the central feature 
of human history." A very startling feature of his treatment is 
that in religious matters he seemingly sets no value on the dif 
ference between truth and falsehood, for he groups all religions 
together. In a would-be teacher of ethics such an attitude war 
rants severe rebuke ; for it is essentially dishonest and immoral. 
Throughout his book he treats all religious beliefs from the same 
standpoint, as if they were all substantially similar and sub 
stantially of the same value; whereas it is, of course, a mere 
truism to say that most of them are mutually destructive. Not 
only has he no idea of differentiating the true from the false ; 
but he seems not to understand that the truth of a partic 
ular belief is of any moment. Thus he says, in speaking of 
the future survival of religious beliefs in general, that the most 
notable result of the scientific revolution begun by Darwin must 
be " to establish them on a foundation as broad, deep, and last 
ing as any the theologians ever dreamed of." If this sentence 
means anything it means that all these religious beliefs will be 
established on the same foundation. It hardly seems necessary 
to point out that this cannot be the fact. If the God of the 
Christians be in very truth the one God, and if the belief in 
Him be established, as Christians believe it will, then the founda 
tion for the religious belief in Mumbo Jumbo cannot be either 
broad, deep, or lasting. In the same way the beliefs in Mohammed 
and Buddha are mutually exclusive, and the various forms of an 
cestor worship and fetichism cannot all be established on a per 
manent basis, as they would be according to Mr. Kidd's theory. 

Again, when Mr. Kidd rebukes science for its failure to ap 
proach religion in a scientific spirit he shows that he fails to 


grasp the full bearing of the subject which he is considering. 
This failure comes in part from the very large, not to say loose, 
way in which he uses the words " science " and " religion/' There 
are many sciences and many religions, and there are many dif 
ferent kinds of men who profess the one or advocate the other. 
Where the intolerant professors of a given religious belief en 
deavor by any form of persecution to prevent scientific men of 
any kind from seeking to find out and establish the truth, then 
it is quite idle to blame these scientific men for attacking with 
heat and acerbity the religious belief which prompts such perse 
cution. The exigencies of a life and death struggle unfit a man 
for the coldness of a mere scientific inquiry. Even the most 
enthusiastic naturalist, if attacked by a man-eating shark, would 
be much more interested in evading or repelling the attack than 
in determining the precise specific relations of the shark. A less 
important but amusing feature of his argument is that he speaks 
as if he himself had made an entirely new discovery when he 
learned of the important part played in man's history by his re 
ligious beliefs. But Mr. Kidd surely cannot mean this. He 
must be aware that all the great historians have given their full 
importance to such religious movements as the birth and growth 
of Christianity, the Reformation, the growth of Islamism, and 
the like. Mr. Kidd is quite right in insisting upon the import 
ance of the part played by religious beliefs, but he has fallen 
into a vast error if he fails to understand that the great majority 
of the historical and sociological writers have given proper weight 
to this importance. 

Mr. Kidd's greatest failing is his tendency to use words in 
false senses. He uses "reason " in the false sense "selfish." He 
then, in a spirit of mental tautology, assumes that reason must 
be necessarily purely selfish and brutal. He assumes that the man 
who risks his life to save a friend, the woman who watches over 
a sick child, and the soldier who dies at his post, are unreason 
able, and that the more their reason is developed the less likely 
they will be to act in these ways. The mere statement of the as 
sertion in such a form is sufficient to show its nonsense to any 
one who will take the pains to think whether the people who 
ordinarily perform such feats of self-sacrifice and self-denial are 
people of brutish minds or of fair intelligence. 

If none of the ethical qualities are developed at the eame time 


with a man's reason, then he may become a peculiarly noxious 
kind of wild beast ; but this is not in the least a necessity of the 
development of his reason. It would be just as wise to say that 
it was a necessity of the development of his bodily strength. Un 
doubtedly the man with reason who is selfish and unscrupulous 
will, because of his added power, behave even worse than the man 
without reason who is selfish and unscrupulous ; but the same is 
true of the man of vast bodily strength. He has power to do 
greater harm to himself and to others ; but, because of this, to 
speak of bodily strength or of reason as in itself " profoundly 
anti-social and anti-revolutionary" is foolishness. Mr. Kidd, as 
so often, is misled by a confusion of names, for which he is him 
self responsible. The growth of rationalism, unaccompanied by 
any growth in ethics or morality, works badly. The society in 
which such a growth takes place will die out ; and ought to die 
out. But this does not imply that other communities quite as 
intelligent may not also be deeply moral and be able to take firm 
root in the world. 

Mr. Kidd's definitions of "supra-natural" and "ultra- 
rational" sanctions, the definitions upon which he insists so 
strongly and at such length, would apply quite as well to every 
crazy superstition of the most brutal savage as to the teachings of 
the New Testament. The trouble with his argument is that, 
when he insists upon the importance of this ultra-rational sanc 
tion, defining it as loosely as he does, he insists upon too much. He 
apparently denies that men can come to a certain state at which 
it will be rational for them to do right even to their own hurt. 
It is perfectly possible to build up a civilization which, by its sur 
roundings and by its inheritances, working through long ages, 
shall make the bulk of the men and women develop such charac 
teristics of unselfishness, as well as of wisdom, that it will be the 
rational thing for them as individuals to act in accordance with 
the highest dictates of honor and courage and morality. If the 
intellectual development of such a civilized community goes on 
at an equal pace with the ethical, it will persistently war against 
the individuals in whom the spirit of selfishness, which appar 
ently Mr. Kidd considers the only rational spirit, shows itself 
strongly. They will weed out these individuals and forbid them 
propagating, and therefore will steadily tend to produce a society 
in which the rational sanction for progress shall be identical in 


the individual and the State. This ideal has never yet been 
reached, but there have been long steps taken towards reaching 
it; and in most progressive civilizations it is reached to the 
extent that the sanction for progress is the same not only for the 
State but for each one of the bulk of the individuals composing 
it. When this ceases to be the case progress itself will generally 
cease and the community ultimately disappear. 

Mr. Kidd, having treated of religion in a preliminary way, 
and with much mystic vagueness, then attempts to describe the 
functions of religious belief in the evolution of society. He has 
already given definitions of religion quoted from different authors, 
and he now proceeds to give his own definition. But first he 
again insists upon his favorite theory, that there can be no ra 
tional basis for individual good conduct in society, using the 
word rational, according to his usual habit, as a synonym of sel 
fish ; and then asserts that there can be no such thing as a ra 
tional religion. Apparently all that Mr. Kidd demands on this 
point is that it shall be what he calls ultra-rational, a word which 
he prefers to irrational. In other words he casts aside as irrele 
vant all discussion as to a creed's truth. 

Mr. Kidd then defines religion as being ' ' a form of belief 
providing an ultra-rational sanction for that large class of con 
duct in the individual where his interests and the interests of 
the social organism are antagonistic, and by which the former 
are rendered subordinate to the latter in the general interest 
of the evolution which the race is undergoing," and says 
that we have here the principle at the base of all religions. Of 
course this is simply not true. All those religions which busy 
themselves exclusively with the future life, and which even Mr. 
Kidd could hardly deny to be religious, do not have this prin 
ciple at their basis at all. They have nothing to do with the 
general interests of the evolution which the race is undergoing 
on this earth. They have to do only with the soul of the indi 
vidual in the future life. They are not concerned with this 
world, they are concerned with the world to come. All reli 
gions, and all forms of religions, in which the principle of asceti 
cism receives any marked development are positively antagonistic 
to the development of the social organism. They are against its 
interests. They do not tend in the least to subordinate the in 
terests of the individual to the interests of the organism in the 


general interests of the evolution which the race is undergoing. A 
religion like that of the Shakers means the almost immediate ex 
tinction of the organism in which it develops. Such a religion dis 
tinctly subordinates the interests of the organism to the interests of 
the individual. The same is equally true of many of the more ascetic 
developments of Christianity and Islamism. There is strong prob 
ability that there was a Celtic population in Iceland before the ar 
rival of the Norsemen, but these Celts belonged to the Culdee sect 
of Christians. They were anchorites, and professed a creed which 
completely subordinated the development of the race on this 
earth to the well-being of the individual in the next. In conse 
quence they died out and left no successors. There are creeds, 
such as most of the present day creeds of Christianity, both 
Protestant and Catholic, which do very noble work for the race 
because they teach its individuals to subordinate their own in 
terests to the interests of mankind; but it is idle to say this of 
every form of religious belief. 

It is equally idle to pretend that this principle which Mr. 
Kidd says lies at the base of all religions does not also lie at the 
base of many forms of ethical belief which could hardly be called 
religious. His definition of religion could just as appropriately 
be used to define some forms of altruism or humanitarianism, 
while it does not define religion at all, if we use the word religion 
in the way in which it generally is used. If Mr. Kidd should 
write a book about horses, and should define a horse as a striped 
equine animal found wild in South Africa, his definition would 
apply to certain members of the horse family, but would not 
apply to that animal which we ordinarily mean when we talk of a 
horse ; and, moreover, it would still be sufficiently loose to include 
two or three entirely different species. This is precisely the 
trouble with Mr. Kidd's definition of religion. It does not de 
fine religion at all as the word is ordinarily used, and while it 
does apply to certain religious beliefs, it also applies quite as 
well to certain non-religious beliefs. We must, therefore, recol 
lect that throughout Mr. Kidd's argument on behalf of the part 
that religion plays he does not mean what is generally under 
stood by religion, but the special form or forms which he 
here defines. 

Undoubtedly in the race for life that group of beings will 
tend ultimately to survive in which the general feeling of the 


members, whether dae to humanitarianism, to altruism, or to 
some form of religious belief proper, is such that the average in 
dividual has an unselfish what Mr. Kidd would call an ultra 
rational tendency to work for the ultimate benefit of the com 
munity as a whole. Mr. Kidd's argument is so loose that it may 
be construed as meaning that, in the evolution of society, irra 
tional superstitions grow up from time to time, affect large bod 
ies of the human race in their course of development and then 
die away, and that this succession of evanescent religious beliefs 
will continue for a very long time to come, perhaps as long as the 
human race exists. He may further mean that, except for this 
belief in a long succession of lies, humanity could not go forward. 
His words, I repeat, are sufficiently involved to make it possible 
that he means this, but, if so, his book can hardly be taken as a 
satisfactory defense of religion. 

If there is justification for any given religion and justification 
for the acceptance of supernatural authority as regards this re 
ligion, then there can be no justification for the acceptance of 
all religions, good and bad alike. There can, at the outside, be 
a justification for but one or two. Mr. Kidd's grouping of all 
religions together is offensive to every earnest believer. More 
over, in his anxiety to insist only on the irrational side of religion, 
he naturally tends to exalt precisely those forms of superstition 
which are most repugnant to reasoning beings with moral instincts, 
and which are most heartily condemned by believers in the loftiest 
religions. He apparently condemns Lecky for what Lecky says 
of that species of unpleasant and noxious anchorite best typified 
by St. Simeon Stylites and the other pillar hermits. He corrects 
Lecky for his estimate of this ideal of the fourth century, and 
says that instead of being condemned it should be praised, as 
affording striking evidence and example of the vigor of the im 
mature social forces at work. This is not true. The type of 
anchorite of which Mr. Lecky speaks with such just condemna 
tion nourished most rankly in Christian Africa and Asia Minor, 
the very countries where Christianity was so speedily overthrown 
by Islamism. It was not an example of the vigor of the imma 
ture social forces at work ; on the contrary, it was a proof that 
those social forces were rotten and had lost their vigor. Where 
an anchorite of the type Lecky describes, and Mr. Kidd impliedly 
commends, was accepted as the true type of the church, and set 


the tone for religions thought, the church was corrupt, and was 
unable to make any effective defense against the scarcely baser 
form of superstition which received its development in Islamism. 
As a matter of fact, asceticism of this kind had very little in com 
mon with the really vigorous and growing part of European 
Christianity, even at that time. Such asceticism is far more 
closely related to the practices of some loathsome Mohammedan 
dervish than to any creed which has properly developed from the 
pure and lofty teachings of the Four Gospels. St. Simeon 
Stylites is more nearly kin to a Hindoo fakir than to Phillips 
Brooks or Archbishop Ireland. 

Mr. Kidd deserves praise for insisting as he does upon the 
great importance of the development of humanitarian feelings 
and of the ethical element in humanity during the past few cen 
turies, when compared with the mere material development. He 
is, of course, entirely right in laying the utmost stress upon the 
enormous part taken by Christianity in the growth of Western 
civilization. He would do well to remember, however, that there 
are other elements than that of merely ceremonial Christianity at 
work, and that such ceremonial Christianity in other races pro 
duces quite different results, as he will see at a glance, if he will 
recall that Abyssinia and Hayti are Christian countries. 

In short, whatever Mr. Kidd says in reference to religion must 
be understood as being strictly limited by his own improper term 
inology. If we should accept the words religion and religious 
belief in their ordinary meaning, and should then accept as true 
what he states, we should apparently have to conclude that pro 
gress depended largely upon the fervor of the religious spirit, 
without regard to whether the religion itself was false or true. If 
such were the fact, progress would be most rapid in a country 
like Morocco, where the religious spirit is very strong indeed, far 
stronger than in any enlightened Christian country, but where, 
in reality, the religious development has largely crushed out the 
ethical and moral development, so that the country has gone 
steadily backward. A little philosophic study would convince 
Mr. Kidd that while the ethical and moral development of a nation 
may, in the case of certain religions, be based on those religions 
and develop with them and on the lines laid down by them, yet 
that in other countries where they develop at all they have to 
develop right in the teeth of the dominant religious beliefs, 


while in yet others they may develop entirely independent of 
them. If he doubts this let him examine the condition of the 
Soudan under the Mahdi, where what he calls the ultra-rational 
and supra-natural sanctions were accepted without question, and 
governed the lives of the people to the exclusion alike of rea 
son and morality. He will hardly assert that the Soudan is more 
progressive than say Scotland or Minnesota, where there is less 
of the spirit which he calls religious and which old-fashioned folk 
would call superstitious. 

Mr. Kidd's position in reference to the central feature of his 
argument is radically false ; but he handles some of his other 
themes very well. He shows clearly in his excellent chapter on 
modern socialism that a state of retrogression must ensue if all 
incentives to strife and competition are withdrawn. He does not 
show quite as clearly as he should that over-competition and too 
severe stress make the race deteriorate instead of improving ; but 
he does show that there must be some competition, that there 
must be some strife. He makes it clear also that the true func 
tion of the State, as it interferes in social life, should be to make 
the chances of competition more even, not to abolish them. We 
wish the best men ; and though we pity the man that falls or 
lags behind in the race, we do not on that account crown him 
with the victor's wreath. We insist that the race shall be run on 
fairer terms than before, because we remove all handicaps. We 
thus tend to make it more than ever a test of the real merits ot 
the victor, and this means that the victor must strive heart antf 
soul for success. Mr. Kidd's attitude in describing socialism is 
excellent. He sympathizes with the wrongs which the social 
istic reformer seeks to redress, but he insists that these wrongs 
must not be redressed, as the socialists would have them, at the 
cost of the welfare of mankind. 

Mr. Kidd also sees that the movement for political equality has 
nearly come to an end, for its purpose has been nearly achieved. 
To it must now succeed a movement to bring all people into the 
rivalry of life on equal conditions of social opportunities. This 
is a very important point, and he deserves the utmost credit for 
bringing it out. It is the great central feature in the develop 
ment of our time, and Mr. Kidd has seen it so clearly and pre 
sented it so forcibly that we cannot but regret that he should be 
so befogged in other portions of his argument. 


Mr. Kidd has our cordial sympathy when he lays stress on the 
fact that' our evolution cannot be called primarily intellectual. Of 
course there must be an intellectual evolution, too, and Mr. Kidd 
perhaps fails in not making this sufficiently plain. A perfectly 
stupid race can never rise to a very high plane; the negro/ for 
instance, has been kept down as much by lack of intellectual 
development as by anything else; but the prime factor 
in the preservation of a race is its power to attain a high degree 
of social efficiency. Love of order, ability to fight well and breed 
well, capacity to subordinate the interests of the individual to the 
interests of the community, these and similar rather humdrum 
qualities go to make up the sum of social efficiency. The race that 
has them is sure to overturn the race whose members have brill 
iant intellects, but who are cold and selfish and timid, who do 
not breed well or fight well, and who are not capable of disinter 
ested love of the community. In other words, character is far 
more important than intellect to the race as to the individual. 
We need intellect, and there is no reason why we should not have 
it together with character; but if we must choose between the 
two we choose character without a moment's hesitation. 




To WRITE about the " decay " of a quality should presuppose 
that the writer is convinced of its decadence, and I suppose that 
when the editor of this REVIEW asked me to diagnose this dis 
ease he did not for a moment expect me to pronounce the patient 
in excellent health. But the fact is (or so it seems to me) that a 
man must in these complex days of ours be very rash who pro 
nounces broadly about the conditions of his age. There is no 
general trend upwards or downwards, but a vast spreading out 
laterally in all directions, with here a rise and there a fall in the 
swelling surface. I am not Mrs. Lynn Linton, to scatter ashes 
on my head, and cry " Woe, woe ! " It would always be easier to 
me, as well as much pleasanter, to dwell on what is hopeful and 
delightful in the attitude of the public towards literature. One 
may, however, be on the whole an optimist, and yet not entirely 


pleased with every phase of what is going on around ns. Little 
inclined as I am to grumble or to scold, I cannot think all the 
phenomena of public appreciation favorable to the best literature, 
or leading in a wholesome direction. My allotted task, then, shall 
be fulfilled by some brief indication of what appear to me to be 
growing dangers, indications, so far as they go, of decadence. 

The greatest of these dangers, and the one with which it 
seems most difficult to deal, is that which I have just indicated, 
namely, the vast area now covered by a sort of literary apprecia 
tion. Want of all intellectual relish, which we have been taught 
to regard as disastrous, does not seem to be nearly so baneful in 
its results as what is called " a spread of intellectual interest." I 
never sympathized with Mr. Matthew Arnold in his lamentation 
over the barbarous indifference of our upper classes to the claims 
of literature. It has been ludicrous, of course, and in certain 
sections complete. That indifference has been irritating in in 
dividual cases ; it justly incensed Mr. Arnold to meet a county 
magnate who had never heard of Heine. But it was, at least, a 
sterile barbarism ; it did not propagate intellectual conceit. It 
was like George I., it hated "boetryand bainting," but by its 
side painting and poetry could flourish in their appointed places. 
Better to my mind, King Log, who knows nothing and does not 
want to know anything, than King Stork, who has ideas of his 
own, and wants to interfere with every council of the frogs. 

The late Master of Trinity was asked by a lady whether a cer 
tain florid divine had not "a great deal of taste." " Yes, indeed, 
Madam," he replied, " and all of it so bad." At the present day 
the general public has a great deal of taste, and it requires a critic 
to be a thorough-going truckler to democracy to say that he thinks 
all of it very good. In former days, whether taste was good or 
bad, and of course in many cases it was execrably bad, the ex 
ercise of it was concentrated in a narrow circle. In the age of 
Shakespeare, a little knot of Italianated nobles in London reg 
ulated taste without the slightest reference to the excellent and 
God-fearing multitudes spread from Berwick to Penzance. Had 
there been university extension in the days of Elizabeth, and 
Grindelwald conferences, and popular educational newspapers, and 
" literary" sermons from a thousand Dissenting pulpits, there 
would have been produced no impious comedies and no incestuous 
tragedies. The tone of Jacobean drama would have been ex- 


tremely proper, but would there have been an " 
" Hamlet ?" We may doubt it. 

The distribution of literary knowledge, although we may well 
question the depth and soundness of it, cannot in itself be re 
garded as anything but a social benefit to the race. We dare not 
resist the appeal of those who wish to learn. Where the danger 
comes in is where the half-taught turn round and proclaim them 
selves teachers. The tendency of ( * the man in the street " to 
pronounce opinions on questions of literary appreciation that is 
the phenomenon which fills me with alarm. An agricultural 
laborer is as well qualified to criticise the rigging of a ship, or a 
coal-heaver to review the conduct of a pack of fox-hounds, as 
the ordinary person, untrained in the history and technique of 
literature, is to decide whether a book is good or bad. Not to 
admit this is simply to bow the knee to the individual voter. 
The untrained reader can tell, of course, whether the book is 
agreeable to himself or not. He should presume no further; he 
has no authority, on the mere score of being a reader of that par 
ticular work, to set himself up as a censor of taste. 

We are still behind the United States, however, in this re 
spect. There has never, to my knowledge, been displayed on 
this side of the Atlantic such flagrant evidence of anarchy in liter 
ary taste as, for instance, was discovered by the New York 
Herald when it opened its columns to fugitive correspondence 
with regard to the Lourdes of M. Zola. I doubt not that we 
possess, in England, persons quite as devoid of the power to 
judge a literary product and qmite as ready to oblige the world 
with their views, as those wonders of ignorant assurance who 
wrote to the Herald. But, at present, our editors throw their 
letters into the waste-paper basket. Yet every year, in this 
country, the weight of professional opinion seems to grow less, 
the standards of tradition and reason are more frivolously disre 
garded. There is more and more " taste" among us, but the 
greater part of it is bad, because it is based on no recognition of 
the principles of composition, and no respect for the traditions 
of harmony and beauty. 

It is not to be questioned that the immense public which is 
becoming accustomed to regard itself as the patron of literature, 
demands from the producer several things which it is highly de 
sirable that he should not supply. If, against his better judg- 


ment, he does supply them, a decay of taste is inevitable. We 
are fond of congratulating ourselves on the abolition of the per 
sonal patron. It is true that he had his disadvantages. Dr. 
Johnson found him a native of the rocks. Through obsequious 
regard for him, a poem by Dr. Young was "addressed to the 
Deity and humbly inscribed to His Grace, the Duke of Newcastle." 
But, at all events, there were many patrons in those early days, 
and the independent bard could pass from one to another. 
Nowadays, there is only one patron a world of patrons rolled 
into one the vast, coarse, insatiable public ; and if an author, 
from conscientiousness or fastidiousness, does not choose to con 
sider the foibles of this patron, there is no other door for him to 
knock at. 

One thing for which this great, outer public has no sort of 
appetite is delicacy of workmanship, attention to form, what we 
call pre-occupation with style. The only hope for literature is 
that in spite of the indifference to, nay, the positive dislike of care 
ful writing on the part of the public, those who write, being them 
selves artists or artizans, shall continue to give to their produc 
tion this technical finish which alone invests it with dignity and 
value. It is only fair to say that in our own age there has been 
no lack of those who have honorably and unselfishly turned out 
work, not slovenly finished, as the public preferred, but fashioned 
and polished in accordance with the laws and traditions of the art. 
But I am bound to confess that I see, and I deeply deplore, a re 
laxation of this noble zeal in some of our youngest fellow-crafts 
men. I fear that something of the laxity of public taste has in 
vaded their private workshops, and that they are apt to say to 
themselves that second-rate writing is " good enough " for the 
publishers. Whenever I see it boldly put forth that " the mat 
ter " is everything and the "manner" nothing, that to write with 
care is an "affectation" or an "artifice," that style may take 
care of ifcself, and that " an unchartered freedom " is the best 
badge of a writer, there seems to rise before me the lean and hun 
gry scholar, scraping and cringing before the great vulgar patron 
with "What you wish, my lord! I don't presume to decide." 
And from this sort of obsequiousness to public "taste " no return 
to self-respect is possible. 

Against any general tendency to obliterate the forms of litera 
ture the cultivation of verse is probably the most effective safe- 


guard. It is the poets who save the language from decay, and 
who keep high the standard of literary excellence. My eminent 
friend, the Master of the Temple, is forever denouncing the art 
of modern verse, and discouraging its practice. " Confec 
tionery/' he calls it, and a hundred newspapers applaud the 
infelicity. I grieve when I hear men of the accomplishment and 
knowlege of Dr. Ainger speaking with this harshness of what is 
called "minor poetry." These distinctions of "minor" and 
"major "are very arbitrary and invidious. We do not talk of 
" minor prose writers," and yet the average of prose authorship 
is more contemptible than the average of verse. Inept and imi 
tative poetry is, of course, a very ridiculous product, but it is no 
worse than vulgar, slipshod prose, and there is always the effort 
behind it to construct, to select, to preserve the noble forms of 
traditional writing, an effort which starts it from a distinctly 
higher standpoint. And the verse of a far better class, the 
poetry that is accomplished and refined without being positively 
epoch-making such verse, I make bold to say. is the very salt 
which keeps the mass of our common style from decay. The bad 
prose-writer is content to stammer forth his sentences in obedi 
ence to no tradition whatever ; the bad poet is always conscious 
of the great masters in the background. 

The immense breadth of the area over which a sort of literary 
taste is nowadays exercised has the very unfortunate effect of 
flattening out the public impression of merit. In the hurry and 
the superfluity of book-production, indifferent authors get praised 
too much and excellent authors get appreciated too little. The 
" opinions of the press," which fill the advertising columns of our 
literary papers, would move Alceste himself to mirth and Celim&ne 
to blushes. Not a handbook to the classics is compiled bat some 
body is found to pronounce it " far more comprehensive than any 
that has yet been given to the world " not a sketch in comic 
fiction but is " a definite contribution to English literature ;" 
not a sickly collection of unconnected essays but "scintillate 
with genius of the first water." In the decay of taste everything 
seems a masterpiece for a moment, except a work of genuine 
and independent talent. But the books so hastily praised are not 
less hastily forgotten, and immortals cross the field and disappear 
for ever as continuously as figures cross the disk of the magic 

VOL. CLXI. sro. 464. 8 


There seems to be an increasing tendency to swamp what is 
really distinguished in the flood of universal good nature. If 
we call Miss Blank's foolisfi. little novel a masterpiece, and dis 
cover the results of long experience and profound research in 
Mr. Swish's vamped-up edition of Cornelius Nepos, what epithets 
have we left for Porson and Thackeray ? The effect of squander 
ing superlatives is to lose all power of making a just comparison. 
If Primrose Hill is a mountain of magnificent altitude, what is 
Monte Rosa ? It is another mountain of magnificent altitude, 
and, so far as language can do it, our idea of Monte Rosa is re 
duced to our recollection of Primrose Hill. After all, to us as to 
Caliban, words mean ideas, and if we are always misapplying our 
words we cannot but be befogging and distorting our ideas. By 
dint of praising a thousand things equally, and giving real atten 
tion to none, we gain of things good and bad but the impression 
of a moment. Literature of every quality is made to gallop in 
front of us, and all we see is the waving of a cloak or the gleam 
of a spur. The cavalcade passes, and we reflect on what we have 
seen, but we find we have retained no definite recollections. The 
figures all looked alike. 

It will be a disastrous thing for literature if the ideal of good 
work comes to be confined to the production of a momentary im 
pression. Is the author, like the actor and the singer, to be con 
tent for the future with a fugitive notoriety ? Is his to be an ap 
parition lost for ever, directly the curtain falls and the lights go out? 
Hitherto it has been the hope which has sustained him that he 
might not wholly die, that if he was so lucky as to deserve it, the 
rare boon of immortality was not to be denied him. But now, 
so rapid is the passage of the phantasmagoria, so swift and so 
complete the ingratitude of the public, that the memory of a 
Walter Pater or a Theodore de Banville can scarcely hope to out 
live that of a favorite ballet-girl. And this is the more hard, be 
cause the ballet-girl had infinitely the better time of it so long as 
her popularity lasted. 

A very singular change in this respect has come over popular 
taste in England during the last two or three years. It is worthy 
of some attention, since its results may be of far-reaching im 
portance. The complaint has, till lately, been that the distinc 
tions and successes of literature were all in the hands of a limited 
number of persons of advanced reputation. It was said that 


there were young men knocking at the door, and that no one 
would open to them. But the death of Rossetti, Matthew Ar 
nold, Browning, Tennyson, and of a dozen men only less influ 
ential than these, has completely changed the face of current lit 
erary history. Of the old dominant race only one survives, Mr. 
Euskin, who, in the dignity of his retirement in the Lakes, sits 
as the unquestioned monarch of our realm of living letters. 
But all the rest are gone, the door has been flung open, and the 
young men and women (especially the young women) are rush 
ing in in crowds. 

It used to be said, and this but a very few years ago, that a 
young writer could not expect to win general recognition in Eng 
land until he was approaching forty. It used to be a matter of 
jest what white beards our " promising young poets " had. Now, 
there has come a violent crisis, and the middle-aged writers will 
have to dye their hair, as we are told that shopmen and omnibus- 
conductors have to do, before they can hope for employment. A 
change was inevitable, and indeed much to be desired. We were 
developing a gerontocracy, a tyranny by old men, which was be 
coming intolerable. But the revolution has set in with amazing 
violence, and has presented, as it seems to me, some grotesque 
features. It used to be the question, " What has he (or she) al 
ready published ? " Now, the best possible recommendation is to 
have printed nothing, and veterans approach the publishers' of 
fices by night, in a disguise, offering a manuscript under a false 
name, with an assurance that it is their first effort at compo 

The public asks for "new writers/' every day a batch of 
brand-new authors, male and female. A book can hardly fail 
to be accepted, if a pledge is given that it is by "a new writer." 
Before the volumes are published we are treated to paragraphs 
about the author, " whose first work will appear in a few days, 
and is expected to create a sensation." It appears, and it does 
create a sensation, and the very next day another "first work by 
a new writer " creates a still louder sensation. The town is 
thronged by these celebrities of a moment, their portraits appear 
in journals especially devoted to "the new authorship," their 
biographies are published ( their biographies, poor callow creat 
ures !) and they are eminent for the greater portion of a week. 
Then the tide of their successors sweeps them on. They think 


to return, with a second book, but that is no part of the public's 
scheme of pleasure. The first book was received with extrava 
gant laudation, a false enthusiasm, a complete indulgence to its 
faults. A second book by the same hand, put forth in an inno 
cent certitude of triumph, is received with contempt and inatten 
tion, its oddities ridiculed, its errors sharply criticised. The 
public does not want a second book ; it wants to be gorged with a 
full incessant supply of "guaranteed first works by absolutely new 
writers." This craze will pass, of course, but it is a proof, while 
it lasts, of a very sickly condition of taste. 

The books of which I have been speaking, these virgin-blos 
soms of the bowers of Paternoster Row, are mainly novels. It is 
surely a matter for very grave consideration whether the extraor 
dinary domination of the novel to-day is a healthy sign. There 
has never been seen anything like it before in the whole course of 
our history. Fiction has long taken a prominent place in the 
book-sales of the country ; romances have long formed the staple 
of the book shops. But never before has the rage for stories 
stifled all other sorts and conditions of literature as it is doing 
now. Things have come to a pretty pass when the combined 
prestige of the best poets, historians, critics and philosophers of 
the country does not weigh in the balance against a single novel 
by the New Woman. Mr. Swinburne and Mr. Herbert Spencer,, 
Mr. Leslie Stephen and Professor Huxley their combined "sales" 
might be dropped into the ocean of " The Heavenly Twins " and 
scarcely cause a splash in that enormous flood. Such successes as 
we read of in the history of literature the successes of Gibbon and 
of Macaulay, of Boswell's " Life of Johnson," and of Buskin's 
" Modern Painters," would be impossible nowadays. The public 
taste has all gone mad for story books, and nothing but fiction 
has a chance of real popularity. It seemed to me that the cheer 
ful arrogance of the successful novelist had reached its climax the 
other day when, at the Banquet of the Society of Authors with 
one of the most eminent critics of the age in the chair, and with 
poets, historians, essayists, divines sitting at the tables Dr. Conan 
Doyle (selected to give thanks for literature) described fiction 
as Cinderella and the other branches of letters as her decayed 
and spiteful sisters. That the author of " Sherlock Holmes" should 
enjoy the exclusive attentions of that fairy prince, the Public, 
is natural enough, but what an occasion for a shout of triumph ! 


We can hardly be wrong, I think, in detecting in the features 
of public taste to which I have drawn attention, symptoms of an 
increasing tendency to nervous malady, and the withdrawal of 
self-restraint. Without going to the extravagant lengths of Dr. 
Max Nordau, we may acknowledge that the intellectual signs of 
the times point to a sort of rising neurosis. This inability to 
fix the attention on any serious subject of thought, this incessant 
demand to be " told a story," this craving for new purveyors of 
amusement, this impatience of the very presence of the old, what 
are they but indications of ill-health ? The time has passed when 
the people were content to sit in the shade of the fresh laurel tree, 
and to celebrate the immortal gods with cheerfulness. The direct 
and simple pleasures of literature, of the sane literary tradition, 
seem to have lost their charm, and unless there is a spice of 
disease and hysteria about a book the multitude of readers finds 
it insipid. 

An intelligent foreigner, I suppose, visiting our country in this 
year of grace, would be more struck with the ebullition of chat 
ter about the New Woman than with anything else. As I write, 
I find that astute and accomplished lady, Madame Arvede Barine, 
describing to her fellow Parisians what she saw and read in Lon 
don in the summer of 1894. She is no prude, she is no satirist, 
she has been a deep and sympathetic observer of men and books 
in many countries, and this is how she sums up her description of 
the latest batch of English novels by women. 

" I cannot say to what a degree all this recent literature of the English 
novel seems to me to be indecent and immoral. It is a very grave symptom, 
in a nation so jealous of appearances as the English, that women and girls 
of repute should be able to write such things without exciting censure. The 
novels on the Woman Question (les romans ftministes) are devoured by hun 
dreds of thousands of readers, even when, as is usually the case, they have 
no literary value, no merit of thought or of style. The public does not ask 
that they should be works of art. It takes them for what they are, polemi 
cal treatises and instruments of propaganda, and what it is interested in is 
the thesis and not the form. England may say what she likes, she has not 
escaped from the decomposition of ideas which is the disgrace of the close of 
our century, and it is high time that she should say no more about French 
immorality. Our novels may be the more crude, but hers are the more un 
wholesome, and she has no longer the right to look down upon us with an 
air of scandalized virtue." 

Such words, written not by a jealous middle-aged Englishman, 
but by a brilliant Frenchwoman, full of modern ideas, and greatly 
interested in our institutions, may well make us pause. But eyen 


here, to my mind, Mme. Barine is unduly alarmed. I cannot 
consider the error to be one of morals so much as of taste, and I 
therefore hold it proper to the subject of this paper. We do not, 
we conservative lovers of what is harmonious and decent, sup 
ported on this occasion so bravely by Madame Barine, we do not 
object to the intentions of these revolting women, with their 
dreams of woman emancipated, man subdued, and all the rest of 
the nonsense. We judge them to be honest enough, in their 
hysterical desire to whack the heads of all decent persons with the 
ferules of their umbrellas. But what we do take the liberty of 
saying is that their writings are tiresome and ugly, that they 
give us the discomfort which we feel in the presence of loud ill- 
bred people, and that, in short, they err grievously against taste. 
But what is the use of saying that, when a public as hysterical 
and vulgar as themselves buys their silly books in thousands and 
tens of thousands ? There is nothing to be done but to sit with 
folded hands, and to read the Pensees of Pascal until the scourge 
be overpast. 

It will pass over, and that soon. The world is on the very 
point of saying to the New Woman, "Hie thee to a nunnery !" and 
then Nora Helmer will come quietly back to eat macaroons again 
and be a squirrel. But some fresh folly will seize the vast and 
Tartar horde of readers that now devastate the plains of litera 
ture, and in their numbers, we may be quite sure, there will not 
be strength. So we come back again to our old complaint, the 
hopeless complaint of the breadth of the world to which an author 
nowadays has to appeal. Well might Keats deem the poet for 
tunate who could " make great music to a little clan." It is not 
the absence of literary taste which alarms us for the future. It 
is not that the public has no taste. What distresses us is that it 
has so much, and most of it so indifferent. 




THE recent publication of the Kenyon Manuscripts serves to recall the 
fact that the Historical Manuscripts Commission has now been at work for 
twenty-five years. Between forty and fifty volumes have been issued. 
More are to come, and when the great work undertaken at the expense of 
the English Government is completed, it will form what may not inaptly be 
described as a history of England in the rough. 

There is hardly a family of any standing in England possessing even a 
handful of deeds and papers, which has not opened its chests and its muni 
ment rooms to the Commission. Some great families have not only done 
this, but have permitted the representatives of the Commission to ransack 
their homes from cellar to garret in search of papers, believed by historical 
experts to be in their possession, but not found in the usual places of custody 
for such documents. The old municipal corporations have acted in the same 
spirit. Scores of these old boroughs have dropped out of sight since the 
Reform Act of 1832 took away their political importance by depriving them 
of their representatives in the House of Commons. But all ot them have 
their places in English history, and the overhauling of their archives will 
enable historians to estimate the importance of each in national life and 

A large number of the manuscripts go back to the thirteenth and four 
teenth centuries. As a whole, they become of increasing fullness and of 
more vivid interest as they deal with the centuries nearer our own time. No 
phase of English life is untouched. It is difficult to say which are of more 
interest and value to historical students, the manuscripts which have been 
contained in the muniment rooms of the great governing families, and of 
the House of Lords ; or the records of the old municipal corporations. Both 
classes are rich almost beyond description in material illustrating imperial 
as well as national development. 

The papers from the great families throw most light on national and im 
perial affairs, on the beginnings and developments of England as a colonial 
power, and also on religious, judicial, educational and social concerns at 
home. On the other hand, the thousands of documents from the archives of 
the old corporations, while valuable in corroborating the other manuscripts 
on some of the points named, throw most light on the development of munici 
pal institutions and industrial life. They enable one to measure with some 
accuracy, from first hand sources, the extent to which mediaeval municipal 
institutions were developed. In going over these corporation records one is 
most impressed with the fact that there is little new in the more recent de~ 


velopments of municipal activity. In the sixteenth century some of the mu 
nicipalities owned the public water supplies, others in their corporate capa 
city bought provisions and fuel for the people within their municipal limits ; 
and many of the old municipalities possessed institutions which would now 
adays be regarded as socialistic. In those early days, also, there was as much 
care for the purity of the rivers, for the cleanliness of the streets, for correct 
weights and measures, and for good order, as there is at the present time in 
the most progressive of the English municipalities. 

Many of the problems with which the mediaeval corporations were per" 
plexed are still confronting the English people, only nowadays these prob 
lems are dealt with by Parliament, and not by the municipalities. In the 
periods covered by these old records, each municipality was largely self-con 
tained. Its common council, meeting at the guildhall and guarding its 
privileges with the greatest care, passed what local laws it pleased, and there 
was no overriding them, unless they happened to conflict with the general 
law. Prominent among the open questions of to-day which were open ques 
tions three centuries ago, are those of regulating the sale of intoxicating 
drink and of taking care of the poor. These it would seem from the old 
manuscripts unearthed by the Commission have long been open questions. 

Another such question is the payment of Members of the House of 
Commons. In the seventeenth century that question was settled by the 
gradual establishment of the present system under which Members of 
Parliament served without pay. For two or three generations there was 
no fixed rule. Some of the old corporations paid their members daily wages. 
Others in the early years of the seventeenth century demanded from their 
representatives undertakings to serve for nothing ; and all through this 
transitional stage preference was given to the candidates who would serve 
without pay. It was the lawyers who first broke through the system of 
taking daily wages from the boroughs. Some of the lawyers were so 
eager for membership in the House that in addition to serving for nothing 
they undertook to discharge the legal business of the municipality on the 
same easy terms. 

The manuscripts make it plain that some corrections will have to be 
made even in standard constitutional histories. One or two such alterations 
will have to be made in Hallam. He fixes the middle of the eighteenth cen 
tury as the time when Parliamentary boroughs were first for sale. Lady 
Mary Wortley Montagu's letters show that the sale of boroughs was not 
uncommon in the opening years of that century, and the papers published 
by the Historical Manuscripts Commission corroborate Lady Mary's state 
ment, if they do not actually afford material for placing the date much 
earlier. There were many boroughs which were admittedly decayed in 
Queen Elizabeth's time. As early as 1579, the Government announced that 
it shortly intended to carry a measure for the reform of the existing system 
of parliamentary representation and to sweep many of these boroughs 
away. Nothing, however, was accomplished. The boroughs grew worse 
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, especially in the middle years 
of the eighteenth century, and no reform was brought about until 1832. 

For students of the period of the settlement of America and of that of 
the War of the Revolution, the manuscripts are full of first-hand matter, 
most of which is new. The Abergavenny MSS., and other papers cov 
ering the same period, taken in conjunction with Donne's Letters of North 
and the Walpole Correspondence, furnish full and excellent materials for a 


study of the England against which America revolted, and of the methods 
which George III. used in the management of the House of Commons. 

These papers are perhaps of special importance at this juncture in 
United States history. They show that the systems of political corruption 
and political management, " bossism " in politics, to use current political 
slang, was not invented in this country. George III. was as keen and as 
active a political boss as any American politician. He had henchmen at 
his side like the notorious John Robinson ; interested financiers, who for 
a consideration, political and pecuniary, loaned him money to corrupt and 
buy the constituencies. Offices, great and small, were given solely as re 
wards for political services; men wsre broken and turned out of the army 
and the civil service solely on account of their votes in and out of Parlia 
ment. A subsidized daily press upheld the policy of the king, and maligned 
the characters of men who dared oppose him. 

The Dundas letters in the Portland Collection will interest students of 
the period of the Revolution by reason of the light they throw upon some of 
the indirect inconveniences and losses resulting to England from the success 
ful revolt of the American Colonies. Before the war, English convicts were 
sent in large numbers to this country. After the Revolution, the King and the 
Government were at their wits' end what to do with them. The hulks had 
been tried during the war, but that plan had failed. At first it was proposed 
the convicts should be sent to Scotland to dig canals. But Dundas, who 
for more than thirty years was the supreme political manager of Scotland 
in the Albany or New York sense of the word, was altogether opposed 
to a scheme of this kind, and finally it was decided to send the convicts 
to Botany Bay. Some of the convicts refused to go. They preferred the 
journey in the cart from Newgate to Tyburn, to a journey to a country so 
remote and unknown; and King George's patience was severely tried for an 
entire week by three men sentenced to be hanged, who refused pardons condi 
tional upon their transportation to the Southern Hemisphere. 

The romance attending many of the discoveries of the Historical Manu 
scripts Commission adds to the interest of the long series of publications. 
Prior to the establishment of the State Paper Office in 1578, now known as 
the Record Office, Secretaries of State and other high officials on going out 
of office carried their papers with them. Many of these have been re-col 
lected by the Commission. Some of the most remarkable and valuable finds 
have been made in the most out of the way places. The great bulk of the 
Rutland papers was discovered in a loft over a stable at Belvoir, after a dis 
appointing search in the mansion. Other equally valuable historical treas 
ures have been found in dove cotes, and among the beams and rafters of 
baronial halls, and of the guildhalls of the old municipalities. 



SOON after the close of the Civil War one of the Southern leaders said to 
ex-Governor Seymour, of New York : " The North would never have beaten 
us if it had not been for our rivers. They ran from the North into the heart 
of our country ; and we could not get away from you." 

The converse of this is also true. The rivers of the South are an advan 
tage in time of peace. They give access to all parts, except the mountains, 


without the expensive canals of the Northern States and Canada. A slight 
assistance to nature, the dredging of the Mussel shoals of the Tennessee, 
allow-s large steamers to reach Chattanooga, and permanent dykes along the 
Mississippi would double the carrying trade of that river also. To reach the 
mountains the South should now develop a railway service as branches of 
trunk lines yet to be built. New roads are needed to bring the wealth of the 
forest and the mine more directly to the seaboard. The chief of these might 
be a direct line from Nashville to Charleston. 

Western Virginia, eastern Tennessee, and central Kentucky are rich in 
limestones. The valleys have fields of alluvium, and the crystalline rocks 
give strong clay soils on the mountains. The variety of soils, together with 
a mild climate, has always adapted the South to agriculture. The need of 
fertilizers caused the late Justice Lamar to say that the agricultural future 
of the South depends upon the rotation of crops, in which North Carolina 
has already set an example. Should the rich phosphate rock of South Caro 
lina be exhausted, similar deposits can be used along the coast from North 
Carolina to Florida; and also in Alabama and Mississippi. The value of the 
deposit annually mined in South Carolina is nearly $3,000,000. Gypsum, 
superior to the best from Nova Scotia, is found in Washington County, 
Virginia, in seams 600 feet thick. This ia only partially developed. With 
little attention paid to rotation or fertilizers, Texas now returns 10 per 
cent, more income to its farmers than either Ohio, Indiana, or Illinois. In 
Mississippi and South Carolina 80 per cent, of the men are agriculturists. 
More enterprising methods of farming ought to bring larger returns. 

The limestone of central Kentucky gives $5,000,000 a year to the " Blue 
Grass" country for its splendid horses. The valley of the Tennessee has 
clover, blue grass, and wild cane. Stock raising is in its infancy theie. In 
Texas the long droughts do not retard the rich mesquite^rass, and $8,000,000 
of cattle are exported annually. Florida raises many cattle for the Cuban 
market. Fifteen years ago there were only 20 breeders of cattle in all the 
States southeast of the Mississippi River. To-day Mississippi alone has 
about 100. Five years ago a short-horn from Mississippi brought $30,000 at 
the Mil brook sale ; and this overcame the prejudice against Jerseys, short 
horns, and red clover. Fine grass is grown in North Carolina, but it is still 
remote from the markets. There are many dairies and creameries in 
Florida, and those in Mississippi are increasing ; but the number should be 
many times larger. Bed clover is still almost as much of a stranger as it 
was to the Confederate Army at Gettysburg. And yet the materials are at 
hand for making a soil strong enough for even red clover. 

Early vegetables for the Northern market should not be confined to the 
tidewater about Norfolk and to portions of South Carolina, Alabama, and 
Florida. Roanoke Island, Thomasville, and Savannah might send larger 
quantities of peaches and other fruits to the North. The sweet oranges of 
Louisiana ought to supply more than the home market. Florida is devel 
oping a large trade in cocoanuts and pineapples. The finest oranges and 
lemons in the New York market come from that State, because the Italian 
and the South American product will not stand the voyage. Peanuts, far 
superior to the African, are raised about Norfolk, while the hilly lands of 
North Carolina and Tennessee furnish a stronger quality. Kentucky and 
Georgia are raising them in limited quantities. The total crop of peanuts 
in the South has increased over 60 per cent, in the last five years. 
._ The United States leads all other countries in the product of tobacco. 


The total crop is worth over $40,000,000 annually ; of which about $25,000,000 
is exported to meet the increasing demand. More enterprise like that of 
Durham, in North Carolina, would have kept the farmers of New York, 
Connecticut, Massachusetts, and other Northern States from raising an 
inferior quality. It would also have made other tobacco centres at the 
South besides Richmond. 

When there was a duty on sugar, it formed one-sixth of all the dutiable 
merchandise imported into the United States. The quantity of sugar con 
sumed in the United States is about 1,500,000 tons annually, of which the 
domestic product is short of 200,000 tons, including 20,000 tons of maple, 2,000 
tons of beet, and less than 1,000 tons of sorghum. The beet sugar of Europe 
appears to be displacing the cane sugar of America. New methods of pre 
paring beet sugar make it yield seven per cent, of saccharine matter, against 
four per cent, twenty years ago. It is claimed that a million tons of beet 
sugar will be exported within the next five years. If the cane-sugar terri 
tory of the South is fully cultivated, the uplands should grow beet and 
sorghum, and the hills and mountains maple sugar. 

The cotton-producing States are: The two Carolinas, Tennessee, Georgia, 
Arkansas, Florida, Texas, Alabama, Louisiana, and Mississippi. While an 
increasing quantity is raised in southern Texas, Florida, and southwestern 
Tennesee, yet the Yazoo delta offers the best prospects for extending the 
acreage. The Sea Island product of the Carolinas might be largely in 
creased. There may be something in store for the despised weed known 
as okra, which is grown in South Carolina at one cent a pound. It is said 
to be quite as good as cotton for many of the coarser uses. With the aid of 
the compress system, instead of the old method of screwing the cotton in 
bunks, every ship carries from 33 to 50 per cent, more cotton than it did ten 
years ago. The cotton crop for 1890 (the largest ever grown) was 7,313,726 
bales ; for 1889, 6,935,082 bales ; for 1888, 7,017,707 bales ; for 1887 and 1886, 
about 6,500,000 bales ; and for 1885, 1884, and 1882, short of 6,000,000 bales. 
Since 1890 the crop has not reached the figures of that year, when over 
production caused the lowest prices since 1848. 

In 1869 the world used only 5,000,000 bales of cotton in manufactures, 
instead of 11,000,000 bales now an increase of 120 per cent. The United 
States has less than 15,000,000 spindles, against nearly 70,000,000 in Europe. 
The total takings by spinners of this country are about 2,350,000 bales, of 
which the Southern mills have but one-third. The South has now nearly 
2,000,000 spindles, instead of 562,000 in 1880. Thus, in thirteen years it has 
increased the percentage of spindles from five to fourteen. The total of 
cotton mills in the Southern States is 271. The lower grades of cotton 
goods made in Alabama are in competition at Lowell, Mass., with goods 
made in that place, and fine brown sheetings, equal to those of Eastern 
manufacture, are made in the Southern mills. The manufacture of cotton 
at the South is growing at the expense of the industry in New England, 
and Atlanta is already a competitor of Baltimore in the Boston market. 
The prospects of the South will be even better when the mills drop the coarser 
grades and offer a finer product. 

There were only seven cottonseed-oil mills in the United States in 1866, 
but in 1870 the product of the 26 mills was 547 000 gal ions, valued at $293,000. 
This had grown to 13,384,385 gallons in 1890, valued at $5,291,178. The quan 
tity has been reduced since that date. The total number of mills is 266. The 
capacity of the mills is 9,942 tons of seed daily, or 2,982,600 tons yearly. The 


total value of all the products of the seed for 1890 was $25,834,261. A large 
quantity of the oil enters into the manufacture of lard, an expert having 
stated that the oil is wholesome in every respect. The oil is also sent to 
Italy, mixed with olive oil, and returned to the United States as pure 
olive. Among the products of the seed, besides oil, are : Oil cake, for animal 
food and fertilizers ; lint ; hulls, for fertilizers and the making of paper ; 
and soap stock, for the making of soap and gas. The rivalry between the 
mills has given way to more business-like methods, and cotton oil is already 
one of the greatest industries of the South. 

In 1889 Louisiana had about as many acres in corn as it had in cotton. 
Texas led all the Southern States in 1890 with the largest crop of corn 
and it was closely followed by Mississippi, Georgia, and Alabama. Texas 
also leads in the wheat ciop ; and West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, 
and Georgia are at its heels. The grist mills of Richmond supply flour from 
wheat grown in that locality to the markets of Brazil and other South 
American states. It is the only brand that will cross the Equator with 
safety. The output of flour in the South should be enough to supply all of 
its population. Texas already grows more wool than California. There are 
large sheep ranches in the mountains of Tennessee, and there might be 
many others in the highlands of several of the States. The South has few 
woollen mills thus far, but enterprise in this direction would lead to sub 
stantial results. Overproduction in cotton is sure to bring development in 
these several lines. 

The eastern part of Texas is full of the long yellow-leaf pine ; while cy 
press, oak and other hard woods are found in abundance in other localities. 
The same pine also grows in the northern part of Mississippi, in the west 
ern part of Louisiana, in the northern part of Alabama, and between the 
Chattahoochee and the Flint rivers in Georgia. The great wealth of North 
Carolina and Alabama is in hard woods. The walnut and oak of Alabama 
are sent to the furniture factories in Grand Rapids, Mich., when it should 
be made into furniture on the soil of Alabama. 

But the greatest source of prosperity to the New South will be from its 
minerals. Tennessee, Alabama, and Texas are rich in building- stones. The 
raw deposits of asphalt in Alabama are equal to the best from Trinidad, and 
it can be mined at $1 per ton. Salt mining in Louisiana has been increased 
within the past five years ; but the product from Kentucky and the Virginias 
will not be available till the Northern fields are exhausted. West Virginia, 
Kentucky, and Tennessee will yield more crude petroleum as the supply 
grows less in the North. Even the gold mines of the Carolinas, Virginia, 
and Georgia will be made profitable when they are worked by more scientific 

The total annual output of coal in the United States is about 150,000,000 
tons, of which the Southern States give 25,000,000 tons. Virginia is the 
only Southern State producing anthracite. When the supply of Northern 
anthracite becomes short, bituminous coal from the South, together with its 
products, will be more of a factor in the market. The valleys of the Kana- 
wha and the New rivers, in Virginia, have scarcely been touched. A coal 
seam twenty-two feet thick has just been found in the Pocahontas district. 
West Virginia has bituminous coal of fine quality, and as good is found in 
the Warrior, the Coosa, and the Cahaba coalfields of Alabama the thickest 
measures in the country. The finest coke in the South is made in the Poca 
hontas district, and the product is shipped to St. Louis and many other 


Western points. Coke is made in Chattanooga for $5 a ton ; but it is worth 
$45 a ton in Nevada, and $60 a ton in the City of Mexico. It is the best coke 
in the world for smelting, and Alabama already ranks next to Pennsylvania 
in the supply. 

In Western Virginia and North Carolina, eastern Tennessee and Ken 
tucky and northern Georgia and Alabama, the Appalachian mountains have 
deposits of iron ore and coal in close proximity. Virginia has similar de 
posits of iron and lioie. Brown hematite and magnetic ores are being 
worked in that State, but not the specular ores. Kentucky is full of good 
ores that have been worked to a very small extent. At South Pittsburgh, 
Tenn., the ore has 37 per cent, of iron, and no flux is necessary with the lime. 
At Knoxville, car wheels are made from cold-blast charcoal iron, a most dif 
ficult process. Alabama has red hematite in deeper veins than Pennsyl 
vania. It assays 47 per cent, of iron, while the brown hematite assays 55 
per cent. Texas has hematite, magnetic, and specular ores, which will yet 
find a Northern market. The basic process for steel is being used in the 
South with good results. In a recent year the output of pig iron in the 
United States was over 9,500,000 tons, of which nearly 1,000,000 tons were 
made in six months in the Southern States. Alabama now turns out almost 
as much iron as the entire South did four years ago, and Alabama pig has 
superseded Scotch pig in Chicago. That State now holds the third position ; 
Pennsylvania, the first ; and Ohio, the second. Virginia leads the Southern 
States in the production of rolled iron ; and nearly all the rolled steel South 
of the Potomac and Ohio rivers comes from West Virginia. 

What is needed most in the South is, not the production of great quan 
tities of pig iron, but, rather, the increase of manufactures of all grades, 
even the finest. The city of Richmond supplies seven States with nails, 
hardware, agricultural implements, and machinery. There is no reason 
why every Southern city should not be a centre for factories of these articles 
and many others. The miscellaneous industries of the South would then 
require double the $175,000,000 of capital now invested, and more commer 
cial centres would meet a want that has long been felt. The Census of 1890 
showed that the wealth of the Southern States has outrun their gain in 
population. As much cannot be said for the average of the Northern States 
during the same period. 

It is evident that the South has at hand, and therefore cheap, all the 
raw materials entering into manufactures ; that its labor and cost of living 
are cheaper than at the North ; that it can, in consequence, manufacture 
goods of all kinds at less cost than the North or the West ; that it can not 
only supply the home demand, but also export goods with profit; that in 
the finer lines of manufactures it is extending its operations with success ; 
and that, to compete with it, wages in the North must be reduced. With 
all these advantages on its side the fault will be with the South if it fails 
to reach out its hands and take what nature has so kindly offered. 



THE Malthusian doctrine of population teaches that the people will 
increase faster than the means to sustain them, and that it is only a ques 
tion of time when the population will press upon the means of subsistence 


so as to prevent further increase in numbers, or, in other words, that the 
entire energy of the people will be insufficient to supply them with food. 
Whatever ultimate truth there may be in this doctrine, it has no applica 
tion to this country in our day and generation, for the reason that the food 
product has increased and is increasing faster than the population, not 
withstanding the fact that the population has increased with great rapidity, 
and substantially according to the Malthusian rule of doubling once in 
twenty-five years. The explanation of this most important fact is not to 
be found in any changed condition of nature, by which her bounty is in 
creased, but in the increased power and productiveness of human labor, 
whereby the output of product proceeding from the same unit of exertion 
has been increased from two to ten fold. This being true, a diminished 
proportion of the population is sufficient to supply all with food products, 
and an increasing proportion are thereby released from the necessity of 
producing the food supply necessary to sustain themselves. 

It is a material question in the industrial progress of the country, 
how the labor so released from the former necessity can be best ap 
plied to minister to human wants. They can no longer be employed, 
nor employ themselves to any advantage or profit, in the industrial villages 
that formerly flourished in the agricultural regions within short distances 
of each other, for the reason that the output of their product when so 
employed by solitary and primitive methods, does not show that increased 
output which human labor should show, and does show, when congregated 
together in great numbers, so that the division of labor and the application 
of machinery come in to supplement their power. 

The concentration of population, which has astonished so many, was 
inevitable, for it would be impossible to successfully and continually employ 
a larger proportion of the population in producing food than is necessary to 
produce a sufficient supply, and it would be equally impossible long 
to employ the increasing number of those not required in the production 
of food in primitive and solitary industrial processes which fail to increase 
the output of their product when other means have been devised which in 
crease that product many fold in connection with the concentration of 
population and the division of labor. 

Cheap transportation has contributed much to the increased capacity 
of labor, by making it possible to concentrate surplus food products and 
material for manufacture. The increasing ease with which the food 
products, the materials of manufacture, and the population are concen 
trated together by means of cheap and still cheapening transportation, 
together with the increasing output of product which results from human 
labor under such conditions, makes it certain that the prevailing condition 
by which nearly one-half of our population in the older settled parts of the 
country is concentrated in cities is a normal and not an abnormal condition, 
and being based upon scientific causes is permanent and not temporary. 

There are three factors which produce the existing result. First, a 
cheap and abundant food produced by a diminishing proportion of the 
people. Second, a cheapened means of transportation whereby these prod 
ucts and the material for manufacture may be easily concentrated in the 
great centers of population ; and, third, the increasing output of product 
which manifests itself where labor is concentrated and the division of 
labor is supplemented by the application of machinery. 

Cheap transportation, so far as developed up to the present time, shows 


itself mainly in the decreased rates upon steamships and steam cars; and 
the rates have been so greatly lessened by these means that it is possible to 
transport a ton a thousand miles upon the great lakes at the same cost as 
would be required to move it five miles with a horse and wagon over a com 
mon road. Two hundred and fifty miles may also be reached at the same cost 
upon the steam cars. But with horses and wagons the rate of transporta 
tion has remained almost unchanged during all the years of this great 
development in cheap transportation. 

Those who live in the rural district* and have seen the villages deserted, 
the farmhouses abandoned, the population reduced in numbers, the re 
wards of their industry decreased, and the value of their property dimin 
ished, adversely criticise the fact that national and State roadbuilding 
has been dropped, and that railroad building has been very extensive 
during the last thirty years, and think that if the same energy and expendi 
ture were given to the improvement of the common roads, the results 
would be equally beneficial, and perhaps more beneficial than those that 
have followed the era of railroad building. 

I do not share in these opinions, and believe that the reason we have 
failed to cheapen transportation by means of horses and wagons results 
from the intrinsic weakness of such means rather than from the lack of 
devotion to them. The system of State and national roads, as formerly 
instituted, was intended to supply the means of through or 1 Dng-distance 
transportation. The highest rate that prevails upon the steam cars is lower 
than the lowest rate that could ever prevail upon wagon roads built with 
public money, and the use contributed free to the carrier without toll. So 
nothing could be more absurd than the idea of taking public money to 
do that which is already better done without the burden of taxation. So 
far as county and township roads are concerned, while still necessary, their 
improvement would be unwise if they should be improved without reference 
to the facts already stated above pertaining to the abandoned industries 
and the deserted villages. 

A local system of improved or macadamized roads, built with a view of 
connecting villages that are now deserted, or of supplying the needs of a 
community equally distributed throughout the country, would not justify 
the expectation of those who contend for it. The rate of transportation with 
horses and wagons can never be brought on the average below twenty-five 
cents per ton per mile, while the average cost that prevails upon the steam 
cars is not to exceed one cent per ton per mile, and in many instances but half 
a cent a ton a mile. The steam railroads have served and will continue to 
serve a great purpose, but it is probable that the limit of their usefulness is 
nearly reached so far as the ram ification of their branches is concerned ; but at 
the very point where the ramification of these roads ceases to be an advantage, 
the electric road comes in and is destined to contribute still more to cheapen 
transportation than it is possible that the horse and wagon can do by any 
amount of expenditure directed to that end. The average cost per ton-mile 
upon the electric cars would not exceed five cents, and the cost of building 
the steel roadbed suitable for such cars to run upon would be no greater 
than the cost of building stone roads. 

I therefore advocate an important and far reaching change in the 
manner of building country roads. My plan is to extend the street-car 
tracks from our cities out into the circumjacent territory a distance 
of thirty or forty miles, so that all the territory between centres of popu- 


lation sixty or eighty miles apart would be reached. Let these tracks be so 
made and laid that wagons and carriages propelled by horses may go upon 
them, as well as cars propelled by electricity or other inanimate power. 

It is already demonstrated that only one-eighteenth of the power is 
required to move a vehicle over a smooth steel track that would be required 
to move it over a gravel road, or one-eighth of that which would be required 
to move it over the best pavement. When this important fact becomes 
generally known to the farmers, they will realize that it is a poor policy to 
promote the building of macadam roads when an equal outlay would pro 
vide a good steel track. When the track is once provided so that cars and 
carriages propelled by horses can also go upon the same tracks with cars 
propelled by electricity, the superiority of the inanimate power will be so 
apparent that horse power will be quickly abandoned. And what we have 
seen in Cleveland and Columbus and other American cities we will see upon 
the country roads, namely : a complete substitution of electric power for 
horse power wherever the rails are laid. 

Heretofore the use of electric cars has been confined to carrying passen 
gers, and the extension of the system has depended wholly upon private 
enterprise. This must be changed by enlarging the use to which the electric 
cars are put, and by supplementing private enterprise by a more liberal and 
enlightened public policy. There is no reason why the electric roads should 
not be carriers of freight as well as passengers, and especially of food prod 
ucts from the field to the market: 

It is not claimed that these electric roads could be built and maintained 
wholly out of the profits of the carrier, but that they should rest as a bur 
den upon the benefited land area in the same way that other road improve 
ments now rest. No better expenditure of public money could be made in 
the State of Ohio for road improvements than to build a system of electric 
roads connecting all the county seats with each other and with the great 
cities of the State. This could be done by the State or by the counties with 
State aid. And the roads when so built could be operated by leasing to 
lowest bidder or by taking toll for each vehicle, the same as the State now 
does from canal-boats: 

I have estimated the increased value of agricultural lands resulting 
from the decreased cost of transportation over steel rails by inanimate 
power at $30 per acre. Observation to confirm this only waits upon experi- 
meufc - MARTIN DODGE. 



AUGUST, 1895. 



So MANY phases of the Papal question have been presented to 
the American people within the past five years that it is little to 
be wondered at that the great majority of oar citizens are be 
wildered, and the remainder anything but reassured by these 
kaleidoscopic apparent changes. We have had Cahenslyism, 
Ultramontanism and " Liberal Catholicism." While Cahensly- 
ism would appear to be consistent with Ultramontanism, there is, 
at first glance, something utterly irreconcilable between " Liberal 
Catholicism " and the others. The difference, however, if there 
be a difference, is rather abstract than concrete ; a difference of 
terms rather than of principles, of policy rather than of doctrine. 
All true members of the Papal church must accept its canons 
and the ex-cathedra utterances of its head. Each Ultramontane, 
Cahenslyist, and " Liberal " alike believes in apostolic succes 
sion, the divine vicarship of the popes, papal infallibility, and all 
the dogmas and canons, superior and inferior, laid down by the 
church. The difference between the first and second upon the 
one hand, and the <e * Liberal Catholic" upon the other, is that 
Ultramontanism adheres to the principles of paparchy simply, 
while " Liberalism " is content with obedience to the voice of 
the living pontiff, as it speaks from day to day. This may ap- 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 9 

Copyright, 1895, by LLOYD BKYCB. All rights reserved. 


pear to be a distinction with but a scarcely perceptible difference ; 
while, in fact, the difference is most important and will bear 
careful examination. 

The Ultramontane believes in the temporal as well as the 
spiritual supremacy of the Pope, and desires to assert it without 
regard to circumstances. The "Liberal Catholic" denies the 
clafm of temporal supremacy literally, but admits it generally, 
and is prepared to insist upon its acceptance only in such degree 
as the living Pope may prescribe from time to time. While the 
Ultramontane, then, is bound by the traditions and laws of the 
paparchy, the "Liberal Catholic" concentrates his entire allegi 
ance on obedience to the reigning pontiff. 

When Liberal Catholics contend, as many of them do, that 
the Pope does not assume temporal jurisdiction, they violate 
neither the principles of truth nor their allegiance as papists ; 
but not even the most liberal papist will assert that the laws of 
the paparchy do not confer upon the pontiff the right to claim 
and enforce his claim of temporal jurisdiction, nor that the popes 
have not frequently done so. There exists not a papist (and 
when I use the term I use it with all respect to the members of 
the papal faith) who does not place the Church above the State, 
and, consequently, the priest above the temporal ruler. Even 
Archbishop John Ireland, regarded throughout the length and 
breadth of the land, as the "most liberal of Catholics" and 
( ' most loyal " of American citizens, in speaking at Boston on 
April 28 last, said : " Next to God is country, and next to religion 
is patriotism." In the same speech he said : " Vox populi vox 
Dei) it is said. The words are true when the nation or state 
moves within the orbit of the powers delegated to it by the 
Supreme Master." As the papal hierarchy claims to be the only 
interpreter of the utterances of the Supreme Master, it follows 
necessarily that the Pope is the legitimate definer of the limits of 
the orbit of the state. 

The Jesuit Schrader, in his affirmative propositions upon the 
Syllabus, asserts : " The Church has the power to apply external 
coercion. She also has a temporal authority direct and indirect." 
The remark is appended : " Not souls alone are subject to her 
authority." It will thus be seen that Archbishop Ireland merely 
puts a new mask upon an old face, and repeats Schrader's propo 
sition in softened tones. 


Brownson was less politic, but not one whit more emphatic, 
when in criticising Montor's History of the Roman Pontiffs in 
January, 1853, he wrote : 

"It is certainly undeniable that the concessions of sovereigns and the 
consent of the people were obtained on the ground that the Popes held the 
power by divine right, and that those maxims on which Mr. Gosselin relies 
for the justification of the Popes and Councils in exercising it, were that the 
spiritual order, and, therefore, the Church as the representative of that 
order, is supreme, and temporal sovereigns are subjected to it, and to the 
Pope as its supreme visible chief. Popes and Councils in exercising 
authority over sovereigns, even in temporals, were, according to those 
maxims, only exercising the inherent rights of the church as the spiritual 
authority, and consequently sovereigns were bound to obey them, not by 
human law only, but also by the law of God. Such incontestably is the doc 
trine of the magnificent bulls of St. Gregory and Boniface, and of the 
maxims according to which it is attempted to justify the power exercised 
over sovereigns by Popes and Councils. Now these maxims either were true 
or they were false. If they were false, how will you justify an infallible 
church expressly ordained of God to teach the truth in faith and morals, 
and to conduct individuals and nations in the way of holiness in adopting 
and acting on them ? If they were true, how can you deny that the power 
exercised is of divine origin or contend that it is derived from the consent of 
the people, or the concession of sovereigns ? . . . 

" How dare you suppose, in case of a collision between her and public 
opinion, that she, not public opinion, is in the wrong and must give way ? " 

Among the captious, there may be some objection offered to 
one or other of the authorities quoted as not being the ex-cathedra 
utterances of a pope. In anticipation of the objection I point 
out that no pope has yet objected to either or condemned their 
utterances, but on the contrary, two popes have endorsed both. 

With the Syllabus itself before us and the bull Unam Sane- 
tarn, lesser authorities are superfluous, however, and are intro 
duced only as corroborative evidence of the pretensions of the 
papacy, as in the past, to temporal as well as spiritual suprem 
acy. And, in truth, if we concede the papal assertions regard 
ing apostolic succession, the claim is most consistent. If Leo 
XIII. is one of a divinely appointed line of God's vicegerents, he 
is as much superior to ordinary men as he is inferior to God, 
and it follows logically that he is above all earthly authority, 
whether temporal or spiritual. 

The *' liberal" papist does not feel himself called upon to cate 
gorically affirm what the Pope has not yet thought proper to 
specifically assert in this country and what eminent prelates 
have only considered it expedient to present in veiled language. 


But if, as the paparchy assumes, the pontiff is delegated with 
supreme temporal power from a divine source, the question 
naturally intrudes itself : Why is this power not openly asserted 
in the United States and why do Liberal Catholics find it neces 
sary to cloak their utterances concerning it ? 

A comparison of the American Constitution with the canon 
law and encyclicals of the paparchy answers the question. The 
two are utterly irreconcilable one with the other, unless the 
United States be regarded merely as a province of the papal 
church, a position which they at present hold according to papal 
definition. This position was made most emphatic in an apostolic 
letter sent by Leo XIII. to the Bishops and Archbishops of the 
papal church in America, dated January 6th, 1895, from which I 
quote the following extract: 

"Precisely at the epoch when the American colonies, having, with Catho 
lic aid, achieved liberty and independence, coalesced into a constitutional 
Republic, the ecclesiastical hierarchy was happily established among you, 
and at the very time when the popular suffrage placed the great Washing 
ton at the helm of the Republic the first Bishop was set by apostolic author 
ity over the American Church." 

Yet, although the principles of our American democracy and 
those of the papacy are so utterly diverse, they are not so far 
apart but that popes and priests are forging a chain of circum 
stances with which to unite them together, and this, be it said, 
not through mutual concessions, as the apologists for the papacy 
would have us believe, but through generosity and ignorance 
upon the part of the American people, and apparent concessions 
which yield nothing but empty words upon the part of the Pope 
and his followers. 

The policy of positive antagonism to the American public 
school system which was pursued for a number of years prior to 
the formation of the American Protective Association, has given 
place to the negative policy of letting it severely alone and ex 
tolling the merits of the parochial system. Not that the papacy 
hates the American public schools less nor seeks their destruc 
tion less ardently, but because the desired end can be more 
speedily attained through diplomacy than through force ; and 
while the Pontiff reserves to himself the full powers conferred 
upon him by paparchical laws and decrees, he holds these powers 
in abeyance until it may become expedient to employ them, while 


meantime link by link the chain is forged that is intended to unite 
the State to the Church. 

Pius IX. thundered anathemas and bulls at all liberty what 
soever. Leo XIII. and his lieutenants in the United States ap 
proach the same end wrapped in the mantle of American Liberty 
and speech softened by the oil of diplomacy. Pius IX. in an 
encyclical dated December 8, 1864, hurled the following utter 
ance at the exponents of liberty : 

"Actuated by an idea of social government so absolutely false, they do 
not hesitate further to propagate the erroneous opinion, very hurtful to the 
safety of the Catholic Church and souls, and termed 'delirium' by our 
predecessor Gregory XVI. of excellent memory, viz., that liberty of con 
science and of worship is the right of every man, a right which ought to be 
proclaimed and established by law in every well constituted state ; and that 
citizens are entitled to make known and declare, with a liberty which 
neither the ecclesiastical nor the civil authority can limit, their convictions 
of whatsoever kind, either by word of mouth, or through the press, or by 
other means. . . . 

" Gregory XVI. in an encyclical in 1832 declared freedom of conscience 
1 one of the most pestilent of errors ; ' freedom of press, * very disastrous, 
very detestable, and never to be sufficiently execrated, that mortal plague, 
never to be extirpated until the guilty elements of evil perish utterly in 
flames.' " 

Pius IX. again, in an allocution dated March 18, 1861, con 
demns " modern civilization, whence come so many deplorable 
evils, so many detestable opinions ; which even countenances 
faiths that are not Catholic and which does not repel unbelievers 
from public employments, and which opens the Catholic schools 
to their children." 

Even Bossuet, a ( liberal ' papist, asserted that " the prince 
ought to use his authority to destroy false religions in his realm. 
Those who wish the prince to show no rigor in the matter of re 
ligion, because religion ought to be free, are in impious error." 

If Pius IX. or Gregory were to send such messages to the Amer 
ican people to-day they would only afford sport for the satirist, 
yet Leo XIII. makes substantially the same assertions clothed in 
gentler verbiage, and these are received either with silent or ex 
pressed approval by a large proportion of the press and people of 
the United States. In his encyclical of January 6, 1895, he says: 

" Nevertheless, since the thirst for reading and knowledge is so vehe 
ment and widespread among you, and since, according to circumstances, it can 
be productive of good or evil, every effort should be made to increase the 
number of intelligent and well-disposed writers who take religion (papal) 


for their guide and virtue for their constant companion. It is, of course, 
the function of the clergy (papal) to devote their care and energies to this 
great work ; but the age and the country require that journalists should be 
equally zealous in the same cause, and labor in it to the full extent of their 
powers. Let them, however, seriously reflect that their writings, if not pos 
itively prejudicial to religion, will surely be of slight service to it unless in 
concord of minds they all seek the same end. They who desire to be of real 
service to the church, and with their pens heartily to defend the Cathode 
cause, should carry on the conflict with perfect unanimity and, as it were, 
with serried ranks, for they rather inflict than repel war if they waste their 
strength by discord. In this manner their work, instead of being profitable 
and fruitful, becomes injurious and disastrous whenever they presume to 
call before their tribunal the decisions and acts of Bishops, and, casting off 
due reverence, cavil and find fault. The Bishops, placed in the lofty posi 
tion of authority, are to be obeyed. . . . Now, this reverence, which it is 
lawful to no one to neglect, should of necessity be eminently conspicuous 
and exemplary in Catholic journalists." 

In another part of the same encyclical the Pope declares : 

" Wherefore we ardently desire that this truth should sink day by day 
more deeply into the minds of Catholics, namely, that they can in no better 
way safeguard their own individual interests and the common good than 
by yielding a heart submission and obedience to the Church." 

Not one word of admonition regarding submission to the 
State is inserted until we come to the following : 

11 In like manner let the priests be persistent in keeping before the minds 
of the people the enactments of the Third Council of Baltimore, particularly 
those which inculcate . . . the observance of the just laws and institu 
tions of the republic." 

The adjective in italics is worthy the consideration of the 
reader, and gains more than passing significance in light of the 
papal admonition which commands papists to refuse to obey all 
laws that are not sanctioned by the papacy, and of Leo's ency 
clical to the papists in the United States commanding them to 
render obedience to Francisco Satolli, "constitutions and apos 
tolic ordinances notwithstanding." 

Although the exhortation to unquestioning obedience prac 
tically constitutes the chain of papal imperialism in the United 
States, the links thereof are numerous and varied in character. 
There is the anti-mixed-marriage link ; the anti-freedom-of-the- 
press link ; the anti-public-school link ; the anti-secret-society 
link ; the labor link, and last, but by no means least, the polit 
ical link. In all spheres of the papist's citizenship the Pope 
presumes to meddle and to dictate, although apologists for the 


papacy would have us believe that all there is of the papal hier 
archy is religious. 

Space being precious, I pass over the questions of mixed mar 
riages, education, liberty of speech and press, and secret societies, 
and will confine myself to the political features of the papal prop 
aganda, after a passing allusion to the labor question as laid down 
in the encyclical Rerum Novarum. The evident object of the 
encyclical is to unify the papist labor of the United States, in 
order that it may secure the same advantages in the labor market 
as in politics the papist vote until recently held in the City of 
New York and other large cities, and eventually, under the lead 
ership of the priesthood, grasp the balance of power in the com 
mercial and labor world. This hypothesis receives added strength 
in the light of the following excerpt from Encyclical Longinqua 
of January 6 last : 

"Nay, rather, unless forced bv necessity to do otherwise, Catholics 
ought to prefer to associate with Catholics, a course which would be 
very conducive to the safeguarding of their faith. As presidents of societies 
thus formed among themselves, it would be well to appoint either priests or 
upright laymen of weight and character, guided by whose councils they 
should endeavor peacefully to adopt and carry into effect such measures as 
may seem most advantageous to their interests, keeping in view the rules 
laid down by us in our encyclical Rerum Novarum." 

The political sphere, many good, well-intentioned, but badly 
informed souls, and others who are neither so badly informed nor 
so well intentioned, would have us believe papal priests and pre 
lates eschew, and the laity affect it only as citizens, unbiased by 
priestly exhortation or compulsion. 

The papacy claims the right to govern the morals of her sub 
jects, and affirms that "politics are morals on a larger scale." I 
am aware that both assertions have been denied by those whose 
interest it was to deny them, but in the light of history such de 
nials are scarcely worth consideration. What the papacy has 
been in the past it is but reasonable to suppose it is at present and 
will be in the future, especially if its present conduct confirms 
the presumption. 

Turning back the pages of European history for half a cen 
tury, we find that in 1830 the parliament of Belgium a country 
under a good king and the most liberal government was ham 
pered, and its freedom menaced by the clerical element, which, 
though in the minority, contrived to hold the balance of power, 


and to stir up disaffection among their supporters against the 
government. At the time of the Brabant revolution the governor 
of the Austrian Low Countries wrote to Leopold as follows : 

..." The aristocracy, the priests, the monks, the populace, and the 
bulk of the nation, which is neither democratic nor aristocratic, but which 
is inflamed by the fanatical and insinuating teaching of the priests. 

"Since the end of the last century Belgium has had two revolutions, but 
both times at the voice of the clergy and to drive from the throne two 
sovereigns, Joseph II. and William I., who desired to introduce freedom of 
conscience. In 1815 King William gave the Belgians the most liberal con 
stitution on the continent. The bishops caused it to be rejected by the 
notables on the following ground 1 : * To swear to uphold freedom of religious 
opinions and the concession of equal protection to all faiths, what is this but 
to swear to uphold and protect error equally with the truth, to favor the 
progress of anti-Catholic doctrines and so to contribute towards the extinc 
tion of the light of the true faith in these fair regions. . . . There are, 
besides, other articles which a true child of the church can never bind him 
self to observe such is the 227th which sanctions the freedom of the press.' " 

For a long period confessors refused absolution to persons who 
had taken the oath of allegiance to the king. 

In 1870 all Italy threw off the papal yoke, an emancipation 
which even those countries disposed to be most friendly towards 
the papacy not only officially sanctioned but rejoiced at, 

M. Nigra, Italian Minister at Paris, wrote tinder date September 
12, 1870, to the effect that he had notified the French minister 
of the order given to the Italian government to cross the pontifi 
cal frontier. M. Favre replied : " That the French government 
would let us do as we liked and sympathized with us." 

The Austro-Hungarian government refused to protest. 

Count Beust, Austro-Hungarian Chancellor, stated to the 
Italian Minister at Vienna that the Austro-Hungarian govern 
ment " was satisfied with the ideas expressed in the circular of 
the 18th of October, and considered that the course which the 
Italian government had taken was reasonable and just and such 
as would conduce to an equitable solution." The circular goes 
on: "The temporal power of the Holy Father has ceased to 
exist . . . that compulsion in mutters of faith,, set aside by 
all modern states, found in the temporal power its last asylum. 
Henceforth all appeal to the secular sword must be suppressed in 
Rome itself." 

Count Bray, Bavarian Minister, also accepted the change 
without protest. 

Marshal Prim, Spanish Prime Minister, also congratulated the 


Italians on their entry into Rome, and the regent " manifested 
his satisfaction at the result of affairs at Rome/' 

The Minister of Portugal declared himself " beyond measure 
satisfied, praising much the moderation, good sense and the po 
litical tact of the government of his majesty (Victor Emmanuel) 
in such difficult circumstances." 

In revenge for the seating of Amadeus, son of Victor Em- 
manuel,upon the Spanish throne, the Carlist insurrection occurred; 
an insurrection which received both the financial assistance and 
apostolic blessing of Pius IX. 

In 1872 commenced the fight between the clericals and govern 
ment of France ; a fight which has continued with more or less 
fierceness ever since and has done much to retard the progress of 
the nation. 

The fierce contest for supremacy between Prince Bismarck 
and the clericals of Germany is so largely a matter of well di 
gested history that it needs but brief mention here, and I need 
only quote the Iron Chancellor's opinion of the clericals in March, 
1872, when he said they were ' ' the most evil element in parlia 

The expulsion of the Jesuits from Germany in 1872, after 
they had been expelled from nearly every civilized country in the 
world, suggests the conclusion that either the priesthood were 
desperately wicked and overbearingly and politically meddle 
some, or that the nations of Europe did not appreciate a good 
thing when they possessed it. I am fully aware that the answer 
to the proposition is : The priests and popes have always been 
right and kings and governments invariably wrong. It is paying 
a tribute to papal tenacity to assert that the course pursued 
by Pius IX. in the " seventies " has been persisted in unremit 
tingly ever since. Neither Pius IX. nor Leo XIII. has given the 
Italian king or government a moment's rest. The chief aim of 
the paparchy seems to have been anarchy and revolution, of 
which the Sicilian insurrection was a fair sample. The fact that 
priests were caught in red-handed complicity with lay conspira 
tors leaves no shadow of a doubt as to the part played by the 
priesthood in that insurrection. In Hungary the fight of the 
clericals against the popular will and the government to prevent 
the passage of the Civil Marriages Bill, and after its passage to 
prevent its observance, is a matter of modern history that scarcely 


needs to be recalled ; while the bitter hostility of the clericals of 
Germany to the German Emperor for the purpose of enforcing 
the claims of the Jesuits is a subject of almost daily illustration 
in the public press. 

I shall be asked, perhaps//* Why go to Europe to illustrate an 
American argument ?" I reply that I go where the Church 
under discussion is best known, that I may ascertain her standing 
and reputation in respect of all those virtues to which she lays 

No one who is acquainted with history will aver that the 
papacy has not engaged extensively in politics in Europe to the 
great discomfort and annoyance of those nations in which she has 
practised them. 

The question now is : Has she repented of the past and is she 
prepared to abandon politics and settle down in the American 
Republic upon the same basis as other sectarian institutions, and 
leave matters of state entirely in the hands of the people ? The 
recent encyclicals of Pope Leo XIII. would indicate that she has 
changed nothing except her methods of encroachment upon the 
rights of the state and the privileges of the people. 

That her priests and laity have been the chief factors in 
American politics, recent events in New York would indicate. 
These political operations have neither been confined to the laity 
nor to the inferior ecclesiasts. It is not so many months since 
the Bishop of Rochester publicly attacked a brother prelate 
for interfering in the politics of New York. Not much import 
ance it is true, was attached to the fact of the priests of the 
archdiocese of New York instructing parishioners from the pulpit 
which way to vote during the municipal elections last fall, yet 
the most trustworthy newspapers of New York vouched for the 
truth of the incident. 

Some apologists for the papacy, even after these events had 
become public, had the hardihood to deny that papal priests were 
in politics, until it transpired that the Bishop of Sioux Falls, and 
a large number of inferior priests throughout the country, had 
publicly instructed their parishioners how and for whom they 
should vote. Still some were unconvinced as to the part papal 
theologians were playing in American politics until Archbishop 
Ireland, towards the end of May, came out in unmistakable terms 
upon the silver question. 


I trust this settles the vexed question as to whether or not 
the papacy is in politics. That she has been in politics quite 
actively in the past, and that her influence in the political world 
has been almost twice as powerful as that of all other sects com 
bined, the enormous appropriations granted to her by the govern 
ment for the alleged education of the Indians will indicate, 
while the large number of special privileges enjoyed by her under 
State governments demonstrate conclusively that her political 
organization is as perfect locally ae it is nationally. 

The course pursued by the popes in Europe during the last 
century is being duplicated here with variations. The paparchy 
is a law unto herself and will accept no other. If constitutions 
differ from the spirit of canon law they must be modified to 
harmonize with it. The constitution of the United States makes 
the voice of the people the supreme law ; the papal leaders add 
the amendment, " so long as it conforms with the law of the 
papal church/' or words which embody that meaning. 

Where the people are strong, where the state is powerful, 
the papacy is weak. The converse of this proposition is also 
true : hence the papal conspiracy to weaken our Republic by the 
union of Church and State, with the Church of Rome at the 

While the Pope denies the right of the state to cross the do 
mestic threshold and includes within the pale of domesticity the 
education of the young, he arrogates to the Church the right not 
only to intrude into the most sacred relations of family and home 
in the persons of her confessors, but dares to dictate to parents 
the course of instruction which the youth of America shall re 
ceive. Let the State concede this right and the rising generation 
will be Americans only in name, but in reality the subjects of a 
foreign paparchy. The perversion of the American constitu 
tion to conform to papal dogmas will then be only a matter of 
time, and the Republic as established by the signers of the Dec 
laration of Independence be merely a memory. 

What the open imperialism and arrogance of Gregory and 
Pius could never have accomplished in the United States, the 
superior diplomacy of the present Pontiff and his American pre 
lates has partly succeeded in securing the predominance of the 
papal church as a sect and the balance of power as a political 
body. While Pius administered allopathic doses of ultramontan- 


ism and nauseated his subjects, Leo, while striving after the same 
end, contents himself with a slower but much more effective 
treatment of homoeopathic liberalism. 

However liberal a papist may be, he is a child of the Church 
and obedient to the voice of the Pope in all matters over which 
the Church claims jurisdiction ; and when he accepts the Encycli 
cal of January 6, 1895, the difference between him and the Ultra 
montane is so slight as to be imperceptible. 

The paparchy seeks to renew in the new world the power of 
which she has been denuded in the old. While in Europe she 
used kings and councils as her tools, she adapts herself to Amer 
ican conditions here and intrudes herself into all the elements of 
our public life which contribute to our power. She organizes 
labor, not for labor's sake, but as an intimation to capital that 
she is mistress of the situation. She strives to obtain the balance 
of power in each political party and secures concessions to the 
Church which no other sect has ever sought or could obtain. 
She drives her subjects from secret societies which are legal under 
the constitution and declares them illegal, substituting her own 
laws for those of the people. She declares the civil marriage law 
of no effect and denies the right of her subjects to think, speak 
or write independently of the permission of the Bishop. 

Those " liberal " Catholics who can digest all this cannot con 
sistently reject whatever else the papal theological pharmacopoeia 
may contain. " Liberal Catholicism" is but a term for a policy 
and means neither concession nor amendment. The papacy is to 
day, as it ever was in the past, a despotism claiming universal 
jurisdiction ; an end to be attained only by the weakening of 
governments and the transfer of the power of the people into the 
hands of the priests. 

To combat these pretentious, to remove the hand of the Pope 
from the brain of the thinker and the writer, from the mouth of 
the speaker and the mind of the scholar, from the throat of the 
statesman and the will of the voter the American Protective As 
sociation was organized. It will continue its work nntil popes 
have learned that under the American constitution as it now 
stands they have no right that is not possessed by the most in 
significant member of the non-papal clergy or laity. 





Two Italian savants, Lombroso and Ferrero, both well known 
as earnest students of the new science of criminal anthropology, 
have recently directed their researches into the peculiarities of 
offenders of the weaker sex. Criminal woman has been brought 
under the mental microscope, her traits and idiosyncracies 
minutely and patiently examined. The process is much the same 
as that adopted in the investigation of the criminal man ; the re 
sult also is similar. "We have now put before us a particular 
type, a distinct and peculiar character, whose separate existence 
is supposed to be proved, based upon certain well established 
physical and physiological differences between her and the normal 
woman. It may be questioned, perhaps, whether we gain much 
by what has been elicited ; whether the facts now published are 
not more curious than instructive. What nseful purpose is 
served by this photographic portraiture of the female criminal is 
not exactly apparent, except perhaps that by recognizing criminal 
traits we are put upon our guard against those who exhibit them. 
Yet this might prove very inconvenient, sometimes ; we might 
be led to quarrel with or misjudge our best friends. For we here 
touch upon the really weak spot, the one great flaw in the doc 
trines of the criminal anthropologist. It has no doubt been 
proved satisfactorily that evil-doers possess many purely personal 
qualities and characteristics ; the awkward thing is that these 
same peculiarities are encountered also among the most exemplary 
members of society. To this the Lombroso school answers that 
these last have never been sufficiently tempted ; that some day, 
given adequate inducement, they too, will certainly go astray. 
All that is left us, presumably, is to hope for the best ; to con- 


tinue to associate with those whose looks should hang them, 
trusting that their innate wickedness may never drive them to 
suddenly shock and surprise us by their misdeeds. But we may 
take heart of grace, for the whole position is otherwise assailable; 
this theory of the inherent instinctive impulse to crime in certain 
individuals, cursed with unsought but ineradicable imperfections, 
can be contested on other grounds. It is a well-known fact that 
evil-doers pass from the lesser to greater crimes ; the old saying, 
Nemo repente fuit turpissimus, is an everlasting truth. The 
criminal anthropologists have never yet explained how it is that 
the thief's nose, which is found to be a ' ' turn up/' does not be 
come the " crooked " in the murderer, when the thief expands, 
as he so often does, into the more heinous criminal. 

While dissenting, however, from his general conclusions, we 
may follow the scientist with interest through his experiments. 
He has discovered and classified many strange phenomena, the 
result of his examination of a not very large number of female 

Lombroso finds that the typical female criminal has coarse 
black hair and a good deal of it ; but this is obviously only true 
of Italians, there is no such general color among northern or 
Saxon races. She has often a long face, a receding forehead, 
over-jutting brows, prominent cheek-bones, an exaggerated 
frontal angle as seen in monkeys and savage races, and nearly 
always square massive jaws and a firm mouth. Lombroso insists 
strongly upon the last-named trait, as very generally present ; 
the female offender is especially remarkable for her want of 
feminality. She is virile, masculine in voice and in figure, lank 
and meagre without the rounded forms, a chief beauty in the true 
woman, and able therefore, as in many well-known cases, to wear 
male attire without detection. The eyes of the female offender 
are said to be sunken, deep set, in color dark (only in the 
Italians, of course) ; wrinkles soon show, and in elderly women 
are strongly developed in certain parts of the face ; the cranial 
capacity is inferior to that of the normal woman ; there is a 
greater tendency to grow gray and to baldness ; moles are com 
mon ; hairiness, which is unusual and unfeminine, has been fre 
quently found ; strabismus also, and generally an unprepossessing 
appearance. Yet the offender in early years often possesses la 
leaut'e de la jeunesse; degeneracy does not show till the adipose 


tissue has shrunk, then the salient cheek bones protrude, the 
lower jaw hardens, the complexion fades and wrinkles deepen. 
Although in subjects whose attractiveness is part of their stock 
in trade, beauty lingers through close attention to artificial 
allurements, the female offender grows more and more ugly with 
advancing years, till at last she becomes a hideous and repulsive 
old hag, with all her native blemishes and imperfections thrown 
up into strong relief. 

Passing on to the mental or psychological characteristics, 
these also are strongly marked according to the Italian enquirers. 
It may be stated here, parenthetically, that the facts deduced in 
this respect rest on a broader basis. For the physical traits, but 
just enumerated, follow upon somewhat limited investigations ; 
not as many as a hundred women in all having been examined . 
But as regards the mental qualities the professors have sought 
their illustrations far and wide, in all countries and all ages, and 
adduce some rather remote female criminals, such as the mother 
of Antaxerxes Messalina, Ta-ki of China, or such hackneyed 
cases as those of Brinvilliers, Tiquet, Lafarge, Jegado, and 
Gabrille Bompard, in support of their generalizations. For some 
strange reason, from ignorance perhaps, or possibly unfamiliarity 
with the English language, hardly any of the notorious female 
offenders in England are brought forward in evidence, although 
many would afford startling corroboration of the conclusions 
drawn. I propose, therefore, to refer to some of these in review 
ing the psychological aspect of the female offender. 

The vices most prominent in the feminine criminal are found 
to be great cruelty, a passionate temper rising quickly into ex 
travagant fury, an excessive craving for revenge, low cunning 
strongly developed, greed, shameless rapacity, an inordinate love 
of lucre, mendacity to the utter contempt of all truthfulness. 
Such women are erotic, but not capable of pure, devoted love: 
they are weak in that maternal feeling which is usually the 
strongest sentiment in the feminine nature; they are given to 
dissipation, audacious, violent, imperious, dominating weaker 
characters whether of their own or of the opposite sex, their 
vices, in a word, are of the male rather than the female. In 
planning crimes they exhibit much deliberation, can bide their 
time with fiendish patience, following out their purpose with un- 
shakeable, undeviating persistence, and when the moment of 


action arrives will strike without cowardly hesitation or any fear 
of future remorse. They are especially clever in instigating 
others to the commission of crime, using them as catspaws or 
agents, evading direct responsibility themselves, and being stren 
uously persistent in denial, in obstinate refusal to confess. All 
these traits have been proved over and over again to exist in the 
worst types of female criminals, but happily their combination in 
one individual is extremely rare. When found in full develop 
ment they constitute a type of extraordinary wickedness which 
the world does not often see. These are the class of "born" 
criminals, the very worst specimen of female offenders, the 
women of whom writers speak as "more cynical, more depraved, 
more terrible than any form of criminal male." " The woman 
is seldom wicked," says the Italian proverb, "but when she is, 
she surpasses the man." 

This, the worst type of female, the " born " criminal is not 
common in the softer sex. So much so that the scientists readily 
admit that the " occasional" criminals form the large majority 
of female criminals. The two classes indeed overlap constantly, 
and it seems hardly necessary to distinguish between them when 
discussing feminine criminology. Every woman who has once 
fallen, not only into crime, but from the strict paths of virtue, 
is probably capable of further, even the deepest, forms of degra 
dation. Speaking broadly, she is either good or bad ; when she 
is the first but has broken through the safeguards of moral 
restraint and lapsed into the second she may then drift on and 
downward into any kind of crime. This is generally accepted as 
an axiom by all who have had much experience with female 
offenders. The only distinction is one of degree; the worst only 
are wholly bad, exhibiting none or but few of the " contradic 
tions," as Lombroso calls them, the redeeming qualities which 
so often raise them from the lowest levels. 

Whatever, then, the class of offender, whether, adopting the 
Lombroso division, we speak of the "born" or the " occasional " 
criminal, in all alike the same traits are to be found only in a 
greater or lesser degree. The Italian theories of facial and physi 
cal characteristics may not be entirely convincing, being deduced 
as has been said from too narrow data and dealing with too few 
nationalities to be accepted as establishing any universal law. But 
I have found in criminal women, both in my reading and within 


my own personal experience, which is not of yesterday, not only 
the mental traits and tendencies already enumerated, but others 
not mentioned by Lombroso. Many cases might be adduced in 
corroboration of the alleged cold-blooded, callous cruelty of the 
female murderess, the savage determination with which she car 
ries out her fell purpose ; no difficulties deter her, she can wait 
and watch for opportunity concealing her devilish intention under 
a smiling face, till at last she administers poison and strikes the 
blow with a nice calculation of effect. She seldom shrinks, sel 
dom falters after the deed is done, either in facing consequences 
or removing traces. Catherine Hayes having caused her husband's 
death wished to cut off his head with a penknife and boil it ; Mrs. 
Manning dug the grave for her victim, three weeks ahead, just 
in front of her kitchen fire, where she roasted and ate a goose the 
very afternoon of the crime. Kate Webster dismembered the 
corpse of her mistress and boiled it piecemeal ; Hannah Dobbs 
strangled a lodger and dragged her body downstairs to bury it 
among ashes in a disused cellar. Dixblanc, the French cook who 
murdered Madame Kiel in Park Lane, did much the same. Fe 
male cruelty of a still more revolting kind was displayed by Mrs. 
Brownrigg and the two Meteyards ; the first of whom flogged her 
parish apprentices to death, having first starved and shamefully 
ill-used them; the latter were milliners who tortured their em 
ployees under the most disgusting circumstances, killing them 
with refined cruelty and afterwards chopping their bodies to pieces. 
Within quite recent years the Irish woman, Mrs. Montagu, rivalled 
these monsters by her fiendish cruelty to her own children, and in 
the Staunton case, although the men were the principal agents, 
the two women were included in the crime of taking an innocent 
life by cruel^torture, ," a deed," said the Judge, " so black and hid 
eous as to be unparalleled in all the records of crime." Professor 
Lombroso makes no mention of any of these cases, which are cer 
tainly not less illustrative of cruelty than any in his book. 

Among the mixed motives that compel women to great 
crimes greed stands high, then comes the desire for vengeance, 
the gratification of passionate hatred for real or fancied 
wrongs, the ungovernable outbreaks of fierce temper, the mad 
promptings of jealousy, for the female offender is an ardent 
lover, strong in love as in hate, and implacable when crossed or 
flouted. Sarah Malcolm, the charwoman, committed a triple 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 10 


murder, incited thereto by the sight of her mistress's wealth in 
coin and silver plate ; the murder of O'Connor by the Mannings 
originated in the woman's cupidity, her thirst for her victim's 
possessions ; it was the same with Kate Webster, Jessie McLachlan, 
and Hannah Dobbs. There have been numerous cases of child 
murder in England by mothers to secure insurance money, the 
policies often taken out on purpose by the inhuman parent, who 
has already doomed her offspring to death. Baby farmers have 
been driven by greed to practise atrocious cruelties on the 
infants committed to their tender mercies; cases innumerable 
might be quoted of the employment of poison (of which more 
directly) to gratify inordinate rapacity. Feminine rage, often the 
forerunner of mania, is most noticeable perhaps within prison 
walls, and it is sometimes so spontaneous, so persistent and 
terrible, as to be only explained by actual mental derangement. 
The woman McCarthy, who, in Millbank, stabbed a matron 
without a moment's warning, was, no doubt, a homicidal lunatic, 
but Flossie Fitzherbert was sane enough, and when she assaulted 
another matron and broke a medicine bottle into her skull she 
was carried away by momentary but quite uncontrollable f erocitv. 
It was in a fit of passion of this kind that Dixblanc, chafing 
against what seemed unjust rebuke, turned on her mistress and 
struck her dead. For long-continued, indomitable ill-temper, the 
woman Julia Newman, who made Millbank hideous for nearly a 
year, will never be quite forgotten. Fierce feuds between the 
prisoners themselves continued from previous quarrels when free, 
or originating in new discords in durance, are of constant occur 
rence, leading at times to sanguinary conflicts, which but for 
prompt interference might have ended in loss of life. I have 
before my mind's eye the case of a woman whose loathing for a 
comrade was so intense that she could not be trusted within 
sight of her, and who made several attempts, happily abortive, to 
murderously assault her enemy. 

Jealousy, as might be expected in the female subject, has im 
pelled many to crime. It is now well known that Constance 
Kent, whose offence was only tardily proved on her own confes 
sion, did her infant brother to death because she was jealous of 
him, although on no very reasonable grounds. When sexual re 
lations intervene the feeling is naturally intensified; many vio 
lent acts might be instanced in which outraged women have 


sought to vent their disappointment on truant or unfaithful 
swains. When the woman of greatly perverted moral sense has 
been crossed in love, her thirst for vengeance has only been as 
suaged by the most terrible reprisals. One of the most hideous 
cases on record is perhaps that of Mary Blandy, who poisoned 
her father because he would not consent to her marriage with 
Captain Cranstown, whom he knew to be a miscreant and un 
principled fortune hunter. 

Poisoning is a crime peculiarly attractive to the female 
offender, as is proved by the hundreds of cases in which it has 
been perpetrated by them in times past and present. As I have 
written elsewhere, "its chief recommendation to them is its sim 
plicity and the many facilities that are offered for its commission 
to a sex so generally employed as mistress, housewife, nurse or 
cook." It is a strange fact and a further illustration of this con 
tention that according to the last statistics of crime in the United 
States as furnished by the Census Bulletin of 1892, as many as 
244, out of a general total of 393 female homicides were committed 
by women in " personal service," or, speaking more in detail, by 
26 housewives, 50 housekeepers, 138 servants, 16 washerwomen 
and 10 nurses. No information is available of the method em 
ployed, but it may be safely inferred that poison was largely used. 
This would only be in harmony with all criminal experience. 
The crime which commended itself to Lucretia Borgia and 
Brinvilliers is still deplorably prevalent and we have our May- 
bricks, Cheshams, Catherine Wilsons, Christina Edmunds and 
Madeline Smiths in modern days. These and other cases to 
which Lombroso makes no reference are not likely to be soon 
forgotten; as that of Rebecca Smith who confessed on the scaffold, 
when about to suffer for poisoning hei baby one month old, that 
she had already poisoned seven other children; of Chesham who, 
imitating the harridans who invented and sold Aqua Tofana, con 
fessed that she had for years carried on a large business in remov 
ing husbands, both her own and others. Catherine Wilson was a 
wholesale poisoner whose foul practices were in all cases inspired 
by greed and who first used, if she did not actually discover, the 
properties of colchicum, the pretty violet flower of the meadow- 
saffron so familiar in Swiss summer fields, in the form of a slow 
and not easily detected poison. Fanny Oliver used prussic acid 
to get rid of a husband who was insured in a burial society; and 


Madame Lafarge, whose case, being enveloped in much mawkish 
sentimentality, attracted world-wide attention at the time, did her 
husband to death with] arsenic, the true " bungler's "or " be 
ginner's " weapon, as its symptoms and the traces it leaves are so 
easily detected. 

The typical female poisoner, however, was Anna Zwanziger or 
Anna Schouleben, known as the German Brinvilliers, whose 
crimes were committed about the commencement of the present 
century. It is somewhat strange that this woman has also escaped 
the attention of Lombroso, for she exemplifies some of the most 
remarkable criminal traits, and her picture as handed down to us 
is so much direct 'evidence upon the outward aspect of her species. 
Zwanziger was of small stature, thin, deformed, her sallow meagre 
face deeply furrowed by passion as well as by age. Her eyes ex 
pressed envy and malice ; her brow was perpetually clouded ; her 
manner cringing, servile and affected ; age and ugliness had not 
diminished her craving for admiration. Mock sensibility, and 
weak moral sense and an undoubted taste for dissipation led her 
into evil courses at an early age, and left her at fifty reduced to 
the greatest poverty, homeless, friendless, and at her wit's end to 
live. It was then that she adopted poisoning as a means of live 
lihood, as a profession, and her own exultant account of the power 
it conferred on her may be commended to those who are interested 
in the psychological analysis of the female criminal mind. 

Her attachment to poison was based upon the proud con 
sciousness that it gave her the power to break through every re 
straint, to attain every object, to gratify every inclination ; she 
could deal out death or sickness as she pleased, torture all who 
offended her or stood in her way ; she could revenge herself 
through it for every slight ; it amused her to see the contortions 
of her victims; she could get fellow-servants and others into 
trouble, throw suspicion upon any innocent persons whom she 
disliked. If she wished to bring a married man to her feet, she 
might murder his wife when she chose ; if she hankered after the 
possessions of others, she might acquire them when the poison had 
done its work. As time went on she became an expert toxicolo- 
gist ; mixing and giving poison was her constant occupation. She 
was so devotedly attached to this deadly familiar friend that she 
carried it always about with her, and when arrested and some 
arsenic was found in her pocket, " she seemed to tremble with 


pleasure and gazed upon the white powder with eyes beaming 
with rapture." When sentenced to capital punishment she told 
the judge that her death was fortunate for mankind, as it would 
have been impossible for her to discontinue her trade of poisoning. 
There can be no question that Zwanziger fully fills up the type of 
" born" criminal ; she was in truth a veritable monster, an incar 
nate female fiend. 

It is agreeable to turn from these sombre details, from the 
black traits that show criminal women at their worst, and which, 
as has been said, are rare in their fullest development, to the smaller 
foibles, the blemishes, the blameworthy but not deeply criminal 
failings of their everyday life, mainly as seen when under re 
straint. Some of these the female offender shares with her more 
virtuous and immaculate sister, but shows in an aggravated and 
exaggerated form ; the vanity, for instance, which is strong even 
in the inmates of a prison ; the intolerance of control and of 
constituted authority, for what in the best is mere obstinacy or 
self assertion becomes in the worst direct defiance ; the persis 
tent misconduct, the fluent, shrewish tongue that will not be 
silenced ; perversity in fact so marked as to be nearly unmanage 
able and incurable, especially when associated with a readiness to 
graver offence, or a morbid tendency to surrender and despair. 
On the other hand female prisoners have some pleasing traits ; 
gratitude is very common among them, they are always sensible to 
kindness and sympathy, and can in truth be more easily governed 
through the gentler influences than by stern, unyielding discipline. 
A very curious trait taken in connection with the maintenance of 
good order in a female prison is the strong inclination of the in 
mates towards combined disorder. There is a contagion of mis 
conduct, if I may so call it, which spreads with strange rapidity 
through a prison ; it may be the peculiar imitativeness of the 
feminine character, the ready yielding to example even in ill 
doing, but whatever the cause the effect is frequently observed by 
others as well as myself. When one woman " breaks out," many 
more, if within reach of her influence whether by sight or sound, 
will follow suit. This is why " breaking out," a favorite but not 
always intelligible sin against good order and which shows itself 
in wholesale destruction of property and personal effects, cell 
furniture, window panes, woodwork, bedding, clothes, seldom 
occurs in isolated instances ; why, many years ago, the sudden 


fancy to drum upon the inside of a cell with the soles of her feet 
which took one prisoner, soon extended to a whole ward; why if 
a few are insubordinate, the whole female prison is transformed 
speedily into a bear garden. 

Vanity in a female prisoner would be merely laughable if it 
were not so sad to behold. It is, however, the one touch of 
nature which proves the human kinship, and there is perhaps 
some hope for even these poor degraded creatures if they are thus 
swayed by such harmless emotions. Prison matrons would be 
perpetually busy if they checked every attempt made by their 
charges to adopt the last fashionable coiffure ; ( ' fringes " are 
" going out " perhaps in general society, but they are still amaz 
ingly popular in prison. Criminals will trim their hair as it 
pleases them, and the wisest disciplinarian affects to see nothing 
of the fringe. In the same way, once, when chignons were in 
vogue, the female felt happy whose locks escaped the prison 
scissors and were long enough to fold over a pad of oakum. The 
ingenuity, again, with which some prisoners will twist and turn 
their unbecoming uniform into some faint notion of the fashions 
of the day might have earned these artists good wages in a dress 
maker's atelier ; I have seen panniers counterfeited and polon 
aises, skirts draped or tied back, dress improvers manufactured 
out of whalebones or horsehair ; no doubt, when the present 
" bell " skirt is fading out of fashion it will be largely patronized 
in jail. The craze for personal adornment leads women to skim 
the grease off their scanty allowance of soup, with which they 
plaster their hair. I once knew an aged prisoner who was caught 
scraping the dust from the red brick cell wall to serve her as 

Some more estimable qualities may be noticed. I must contest 
Lombroso's theory that maternal affection is generally wanting 
among female offenders ; it is directly contradicted by my experi 
ence. I have found ''the children's ward" quite a model nur 
sery, and prisoner mothers exemplary in their care and attention. 
It may be that when at large, relieved from the controlling eye of 
authority, the criminal is less affectionate, but I much question 
whether she is any worse than others of her class. Another good 
point in the female (as well as in the male) in durance, is her 
unwearied patience and devotion in nursing the sick. Of course 
it may be urged, per contra^ that here again she is under super- 


vision, that hospital work forms an agreeable change to the monot 
ony of prison routine ; still with all due deductions the fact re 
mains that the prisoner nurse is deft-fingered, soft-footed, watch 
ful and kindly in her ministrations. The sympathy for the sick 
is extended even to the officers over them, and I am forcibly re 
minded of the case of a matron whose slow death of malignant 
disease was touchingly respected by the universal and spontane 
ous resolve of all the prisoners to "give no trouble" during her 
last illness. It was usually a very unruly prison, too. 

Of the gratitude which lies low in the offender's heart, but 
which can be reached by judicious treatment, I shall quote but one 
instance. It is that given in Scougal's Scenes from a Silent World, 
an admirable monograph on prison life. A hardened offender, 
one with sixty-four convictions against her Lombroso would have 
classed her as a " born " criminal arrived scowling and sullen 
under a fresh sentence. Her conduct corresponded with her 
sullen demeanor and was continuously defiant and refractory, 
until an unofficial visitor took her in hand. Then " she became 
a totally changed being gentle, obedient, and deeply grateful to 
those whom she found to her utter amazement to be-really anxious 
to help and comfort her." It was there she had first met with 
pity or kindness from her fellow-creatures, and the first touch of 
human sympathy melted her despair as sunshine softens ice. 

Among the many dicta of the criminal anthropologists is the 
assertion that primitive woman was not given to wrong-doing, 
and that the female offender is a product of civilization, increas 
ing with it. This theory may be supported, perhaps, by wider 
and more general investigations made, but it is certainly not 
proved by English experience. Nothing is more remarkable in 
the annals of crime than its steady diminution among females in 
England in recent years. In the last decade there has been a 
decrease of 41 per cent, in the total numbers imprisoned, com 
paring 1892-3 with 1882-3. Although the prison population 
cannot be taken as a final test of the conditions of crime, the 
fact cannot be overlooked when the decrease is so strongly 
marked. Moreover, during these ten years there has been a gen 
eral increase of the population of 25 per cent. If the statistics 
are sifted and the figures taken according to the gravity of mis 
deeds and sentences, the decrease is still more surprising. The 
average total of convicts, the females, that is to *say who have 


been sentenced to penal servitude for terms of three years and 
upwards, was in 1892-3 just 245, as against 887 in 1882-3, a 
diminution of 72 per cent.; in the " local " prisons, those for lesser 
terms and offences, the decrease has been 33 percent., but the two 
combined give the figure already quoted of 41 per cent. Another 
highly satisfactory feature is found by examining the figures 
further and comparing the ages of criminals in custody. This 
clearly shows that the principal decrease has occurred among the 
younger criminals, in other words, that the supply is being cut 
off at the source, that fewer recruits are enlisted or drawn into 
the great army of crime. But the older habitual criminals con 
tinue to flock in ; nothing seemingly will eradicate the poison 
when it has once been taken into the system ; the woman who 
has fallen into evil ways seldom recovers her position. Now 
in 1892-3 the largest proportion of female prisoners in custody 
is still represented by those who have been most often convicted ; 
in 1882-3 this total was 9,316, in 1892-3 it was 9,408. Sharply 
contrasted with these figures the first convictions, or those who 
have been convicted but once, show up in the manner already 
described. While these in 1882-3 were 7,008, now in 1892-3 
there were only 4,377. 

A further but somewhat remote diminution may be expected 
when the old hands gradually disappear. But this process of 
depletion will be slow ; for, strange to say, the criminal woman 
seems to thrive in prison. Her longevity, not in the general 
population alone, but among the so-called dangerous classes espe 
cially, is established beyond all doubt. "Ik is a well-known 
fact," says Lombroso, "that the number of aged female criminals 
surpasses the male contingent." This he explains on the theory 
that women have greater powers of resistance to misfortune. 
"This is a well-known law which in the case of the female 
criminal seems almost exaggerated, so remarkable is her longevity 
and the toughness with which she endures the hardships, even 
the prolonged hardships of prison life. ... I know some 
denizens of female prisons who have reached the age of 90, hav 
ing lived within those walls since they were 29 without any grave 
injury to health." It is pretty obvious from this that criminal 
women stand punishment better than men. 




IF we are trying to understand the " tendencies," the main 
currents and back-waters of thought and sentiment, in any past 
age, we do not pay particular attention to its light literature. 
Plays and novels of the past give little of the grave information 
which we seek in old works of philosophy, history and theology. 
People used to keep their play and their earnest apart with some 
success. There are, of Course, exceptions to this rule. Greek 
plays contain the most profound religious and philosophic reflec 
tions of the period, but if any one calls Greek plays light litera 
ture, we "disable his judgment." And, even in this field, as 
time went on, and discussion abounded, and sophists multiplied, 
and theorists took aim at every conceivable object, we find Eurip 
ides filling his dramas with perfectly modern " tendencies." 
Euripides revels in (< problems," as much as any lady 
novelist who writes under a masculine name takes pleasure in 
rare moral or immoral "situations." For this very quality 
Aristophanes, like a good literary Tory, assails Euripides. His 
characters exhibit on the stage, before all Athens, positions 
which it would be wiser not to discuss at all. The drama becomes 
a debating room of matters better left undebated to the verdict 
of tradition. The passion of a brother for a sister is one of these 
risky situations, riskier than the modern British novelist is likely 
to attempt. But here was a "problem," and Euripides was as 
fond of a ' ' problem " as Dr. Ibsen. 

These things are the exceptions. In all the plays of Shak- 
speare, in an age when the drama was to the world what the novel 
is to-day, how little we find of " tendencies." The great contem 
porary " problem" was the sequel to the English Reformation. 
The British middle classes, like John Knox, who refused an Eng- 


lish bishopric, conceived that the English Reformation had not 
gone nearly far enough. There were still plenty of " idols" to 
break ; plenty of beauty in religious ceremonial was left to destroy, 
numerous illogical formulae were to be swept away. The Puri 
tans, "a sect of perilous consequence," said Elizabeth, " such as 
would have no kings but a presbytery, " were waxing great in the 
land. The attempt at a theocracy was maturing, but about all 
this we find, in Shakspeare, next to nothing. Sir Andrew 
Aguecheek, who did not give his " exquisite reason," declared his 
dislike of a Puritan, in Illyria, but of debates on Puritanism 
Shakspeare gives us none. His own shade of religious opinion is 
disputed to this day. The great early colonial efforts of his time 
are not more prominent in his works. The " problems" of Ham 
let or of Jacques are the eternal, not the temporary or exceptional, 
problems of humanity. 

As for tendencies in novels, till the middle of the eight 
eenth century, at earliest, novels were written merely for human 
pleasure. " Bold bawdry and open manslaughter," says Ascham, 
were their themes in the Elizabethan age. Love and fighting, 
to use more friendly and even more accurate language, were still 
the topics of fiction. Fielding and Richardson had their con 
fessed moral and social purposes, especially Fielding ; but they 
subordinated these to the story and to the play of character. 
Sheer romance prevailed with Mrs. Radcliffe, Miss Porter, and 
the totally forgotten novelists of chivalry and mediaeval history, 
whose fame, if they had any, was swallowed up in that of Scott. 
He, of course, was a romancer pure and simple ; so, in essentials, 
were Bulwer Lytton, and Cooper, and even Hawthorne, despite 
his allegory, for Hawthorne loved old moral ideas for their 
romantic possibilities. Yet even Disraeli, in Sybil, anticipated 
our modern tales about social problems, and M. Taine, not quite 
unjustly, censured the eternal moral purpose of Thackeray. The 
Newcomes is a long parable of loveless marriages, the theme is 
insisted on with tedious iteration. Dickens, too, sacrificed much 
to tendencies ; several of his tales are pamphlets directed at 
abuses, but then his are amusing pamphlets. We can endure 
plenty of purpose and plenty of preaching from novelists who are 
humorists. But, after the deaths of our great novelists, the 
novel, somehow, has become a more and more potent literary en 
gine; till, like Aaron's rod, it has swallowed up all the other 


species of literature. When the public says "literature/' the 
public means novels, and new novels. We can scarcely be said 
to have any new historians who are read as Macaulay was read, 
or as Mr. Froude, or Gibbon, or Carlyle were read. The public 
does not care for history ; recently a novelist delivered a lecture 
in which Prince Charles was said to be the lover of Beatrice 
Esmond ! Such novelist's history is as accurate as Miss Aikin's 
account of the Kising of 1715, begun, according to her, in the 
interests of a king who was dead, and led by a prince who was 
not born. In philosophy Mr. Herbert Spencer has shot his bolt, 
or rather, has emptied his quiver, and Darwin is lost in the Dar 
winians. We have, indeed, Biblical critics, or we borrow them 
from Germany. But History, Philosophy, Theology, are not now 
read as our fathers read them, in works of Theology, Philosophy, 
and History. These branches of literature now exist merely as 
" stock/' in the culinary sense, for novels. In I forget what 
South Sea isle, the women chew a certain root, and the liquid 
thus extracted is the beverage of the men. So modern novelists, 
reading grave works, or reading articles about them, produce 
the novel of philosophy, of theology, of "tendency" and "prob 
lem " for the pensive, but indolent public. History itself 
reaches the world in historical novels. Miss Pardoe's works on 
the French Court, and Mr. Parkman's excellent book on the 
Jesuits in Canada, are " stock" for Dr. Doyle's Refugees, and I 
fear that no more of Mr. Parkman's labors really reaches the Eng 
lish public. Every matter of discussion, however esoteric, the 
relations of the sexes, the foundations of belief, the distribution 
of wealth, is mixed up with " a smooth love tale," and thus 
the cup of learning, as Lucretius recommends, has honey smeared 
on its lips, and is drained by the thirsty soul. I prefer my jam 
and my powder separate, for one, and, if I want to know about 
Lourdes, turn rather to French physiologists and psychologists, 
than to the novel of M. Zola. But this is not the general taste, 
with which it were vain to quarrel. Interested in many grave 
and in some repulsive matters, the public declines to study these 
themes in the treatises of specialists, and devours them when they 
are sandwiched between layers of fiction. 

This taste is in itself a " tendency " worth noting, and neces 
sarily the novels of an age like ours are replete with tendencies. 
We are humanitarian, and so are our novels ; revolutionary, and 


so are our novels. All institutions are brewing in a witch's caul 
dron, wherein the novelist drives his hook, like the sons of Eli, 
and brings forth matters good or bad. 

Women, naturally, take the lead in an industry to which their 
desultory and amateur education conducts them. I am not speak 
ing, of course, about the accomplished author of David Grieve, 
whose education and knowledge are thorough and manly, and who 
does not make hysterics her favorite motif. But hysterics really 
seem to be the chief literary motive of some strangely popular 
lady authors. The tendency represented in their novels is the 
revolt of some women against the Nature of Things, and especially 
against the nature of their sex. They want to have all the free 
dom which men exercise, even that which they exercise contrary 
to the acknowledged laws of Christian morals. Licentiousness, 
the claim "to enjoy," as lady novelists call it, at random, is bad 
enough in men, but in men it does not cause a break up of the family, 
and a reduction of society to something much below the state of the 
Digger Indians. For women " to enjoy," that is, to behave like 
the nymphs of Otaheite in the Antijacobin, is, manifestly, to 
leave the new generation in the posture of young cuckoos bereft 
even of the comforts of a thrush's or a sparrow's nest. This obvi 
ous fact in natural history has always been regarded as a bar to 
the indiscriminate license of women. Horace condoles with them ; 
miserarutn est neque amori dare ludum, and so forth ; but some 
of the hysterical ladies maintain their assertion of feminine equal 
ity in these matters. Though their works make a talk, and are 
devoured as stolen fruit, it is not likely that this particular "ten 
dency " will do much harm. c ' Offences must needs come/' but 
scandals about girls are not, perhaps, so numerous now as they 
have been in several other less earnest periods. Women are, on 
the whole, naturally averse to following the path pointed out by 
the more daring romancers of their sex. Again, the exceptions 
who want to " live up," or rather down, to their favorite novels 
are usually unattractive, and therefore, by the selfishness of 
wicked man, are condemned to theory. 

Quite another kind of freedom, and of equality with mankind, 
is claimed and acted on by two recent English heroines. Each 
of these young ladies knocks down her old aunt I One of them 
explains that, while she deeply regrets her impulsive conduct, 
men have the privilege of expressing passion in voies de fait, as 


the French have it. So why not women ? Well, one might put 
it to the Superfluous Woman that men do not knock down their 
aunts, nor even their uncles. Give woman an inch, and she will 
take an ell, in the matter of liberty and privilege. This Super 
fluous Woman perhaps represents the high water mark of hysterics 
in female fiction. The heroine, a pretty and wealthy girl, is 
dying of ennui before she is twenty-one, if my chronology is cor 
rect. Girls of twenty, with beauty on their side, and triumph 
before them, do not sicken of ennui. "They have a bully time/' 
In a few seasons matters alter ; the vanity and vulgarity, the 
tedium and desolation of ceaseless pleasure hunting begin to tell, 
begin to be felt. The dose of " excitement" has to be increased, 
fiercer and stronger ingredients are added, and the girl ends in a 
Sisterhood, in a loveless marriage with the usual results, as a 
public character and topic of tattle, or, more commonly, as a 
weary, wandering old maid. But girls of twenty are not Iblasees 
to death, and, like the Sirens in Pontus de Tyard, ennuyees 
jusques a desespoir. In a recent tale, The Maiden's Progress, 
Miss Hunt has drawn, with much cleverness, the slow progress 
of ennui in the flirting spinster. But she is good natured, and 
lets her heroine easily off at the end. Generations of girls have 
I seen, gathering roses while they might, and then gathering 
nettles and thistles, seen them with pleasure, and soon with pity ; 
watched their weariness and forced feverish gaiety. But a pretty 
girl bored to death at twenty saw I never. 

The Superfluous Woman takes to a hectic kind of philan 
thropy : flies to the North, falls in love with a Caledonian farmer 
who is great at putting the stone, has an erotic and not very in 
telligible scene with him in a barn, finds him very unlike Robbie 
Burns in any similar situation, hurries South, knocks down her 
old aunt, marries an idiot peer, bears superfluous idiots, is 
haunted by a "Thing" with claws, and so forth, and so forth. 
This novel then seems to be a sea-wrack left at the high water 
mark of hysteria. The book has been a good deal tattled about 
in print : it represents a " tendency " the tendency to hysterics 
and, as for the heroine, she wanted the attentions of Dr. Play- 
fair or of Dr. Weir Mitchell, or she needed to be married at seven 
teen. " The green sickness " was very familiar to our ancestors, 
but they did not write novels about it. 

It is not my opinion that the author of this eccentric romance 


wants to do harm ; very far from it ; she plainly regards herself 
as a moralist. Indeed they all do ; all are very earnest ladies, in 
cluding, doubtless, the author of The Heavenly Twins. But I 
have never been able to read that work, and have only met one of 
my own sex who had done so. Some, indeed, I have seen driven 
to this water by their lady wives, but they did not drink ; they 
could not drink. Thus, as the ladies will not tell me the plot, 
and men cannot, I am unable to pronounce an opinion about the 
" tendencies " of The Heavenly Twins. The Yellow Aster, on 
the other hand, I have read some of, laying the book down where 
the heroine, who married out of curiosity, was so shocked by the 
usual " consekinses of that manoeuvre," as the elder Mr. Weller 
says. The heroine was pleasant as Boadicea, painted blue, in 
childhood. Her agnostic parents I seem to have met somewhere 
before, in fiction. The character of the heroine is beyond me, 
but, if she is as rare as a Yellow Aster, it is of no importance. 
Long may girls like her be introuvables. The writer, unlike 
most of her peers, is not wholly destitute of humor. 

Minor a canamus. I have read a good deal of Dodo, and also 
the remarks on Dodo, published in an American journal, by " T. 
W. H." Am I wrong in conjecturing that Colonel Higginson is the 
critic ? At all events T. W. H. draws a parallel between Dodo 
and Daisy Miller as exhibiting "the feminine low water-mark of 
the two nations/' I congratulate you, if Daisy is your low water 
mark, for I am, and have long been, in love with that pretty and 
amiable enchantress. She had a foolish vulgar mother, and no 
breeding, but enfin, Daisy is Daisy, and we all adore her. She 
did not die ; Mr. Henry James resuscitated her in the play which 
he wrote about her. Dodo, on the other hand, is a detestable 
minx, and her eternal patter has no wit to recommend it. If 
Dodo is our low water mark, and if Daisy is yours, we are lost 
indeed. But, if French novelists are right, you have a water 
mark much lower than Daisy ; and if some of your own novelists 
are right, I prefer your low water-mark to your high. Nay, 
surely there are worse lasses in America than pretty, innocent, 
pathetic Daisy. You are mortal, after all. 

But there are other considerations. Such a yell was raised 
against Mr. James for his little masterpiece, that only very un 
usual courage would enable an American novelist to draw Ameri 
can woman at a lower water-mark. We, here, say what we please 


Thackeray could draw Blanche Amory and Becky, without being 
called a bad Englishman. You know what happened to Mr. 
Henry James, when he sketched an American girl, not bad (as 
some think Becky was), not a petty minx, as Blanche was, but 
mal elev'ee. Mr. James was said to have libelled his country 
women, or a class of his countrywomen. That was his crime. 
Now, pray observe, Dodo is not supposed by T. W. H. to repre 
sent English women, nor even a class of English women. In 
England we never dreamed of thinking that Dodo represented a 
class. On the other hand, the author of the novel was said, no 
doubt hastily, to have sketched a living person. To have done so 
would have been to commit an outrage. T. W. H. speaks of 
" the supposed original " and mentions that "she was recently 
married." If all this were true, Dodo would, of course, be not a 
type, but a real person ; no class of English women would be 
represented by her. As a matter of fact, the author of Dodo did 
not even know in the most casual manner, the person to whom T. 
W. H. obviously refers. Again, the crime of Dodo, is, in my 
opinion, that she is a chattering bore. But T. W. H. complains 
of her guilt in " neglecting a too loyal husband," in leaving her 
child to dance with an old lover, and in dancing skirt dances, as 
it were, on the grave of the babe. Well, if the " original " was 
married after the publication of the novel (as T. W. H. says), 
obviously the fancied original cannot have been guilty of the ex 
cesses which T. W. H. so justly reprobates. But it is all of no 
importance. Dodo, if we accept all this gossip, is not a type of 
English woman, but is an individual. Daisy, on the showing of 
Mr. James's enemies, represented a class. The Dodo is an ex 
tinct bird ; or was copied from la belle Stuart, in Grammont. 
The only " tendency " worth noticing, is the very general ten 
dency to detect personal caricature in fiction. " Society " novels, 
bad at best, are apt to sin in such caricatures, drawn by dull 
people who do not even know the originals. Moreover, even if 
there were a real Dodo, she could not become the founder of a 
sect. Nefaict ce tour qui veult. 

And now shall we discuss Les Demi Vierges 9 No, because the 
society, the bad society, is that of cosmopolitan Paris. "We are 
not responsible for the vagaries of that international chaos. 

Happily there are other " tendencies " than those of frivolity, 
fashion, bad taste, vice, sham social science, sciolistic theology, 


and hysterics. There is the good old tendency to love a plain 
tale of adventure, of honest loves, and fair fighting. We have 
Gentlemen of France, we have knob-nosed Kaffirs and battles 
with sacred crocodiles, we have TJie Prisoner of Zenda, that 
pleasingly incredible scion of German royalty, we have Micah 
Clarke, and Tlie White Company, and Mr. Stevenson's Highland 
ers and Lowlanders. Here is primitive fiction: here is what men 
and boys have always read for the sheer delight of the fancy. 
The heroines are stainless and fair, the men are brave and loyal, 
the villains come to a bad end, and all this is frankly popular. 
We have no Scott, we have no Dickens, we have no Fielding, but we 
have honest, upright romancers, who make us forget our problems 
and the questions that are so much with us, in the air of moor 
and heath, on the highway, on the battlefield, in the deadly 
breach. Our novels in this kind are not works of immortal 
genius: only five or six novelists are immortal. But the honest 
human nature that they deal with, the wholesome human need 
of recreation to which they appeal, these are immortal and 




THE solution of war is Palestine. 

" Palestine ?" readers will ask. " How can that or any other 
country affect the abstract question of how to abolish war ? " 

The cessation of war ! What a dream ! What a consumma 
tion to be devoutly wished for ! 

Let calm, practical, sober logic be heard, and thousands of 
men of common-sense will say it can never be. 

But it is just calm, practical, sober logic which we would in 
voke in order to show how great a step forward even this genera- 
ation can take in the direction of the reign of law, the rule of 
right, the cessation of war, and the maintenance of peace. 

For what can be mare calm, more practical, more sober logic 
tihan that which is associated with the domain of the lawyer ? 
And it is to the lawyer, the passionless lawyer, we must look 
for the initial labor, and for much more than is initial, in the 
attempt to attain this much-desired end. 

For undoubtedly it must be conceded that the power, gradually 
developed, which has tended to prevent wars by diplomatic effort 
and in many an instance, has actually succeeded is what is 
known as international law. It follows, therefore, that for its 
further efficacy or potency we must look to the masters of law, 
who alone can unfold its possibilities. 

International law has proved its usefulness many times and 
in many directions. 

In the minds of ordinary readers it is usually identified with 
such questions as harbor, river, or fishery rights, rights of bellig 
erents, protectorates, annexations, residents or capital in foreign 
countries, navigation of the high seas, search rights, three-mile 
limits, extradition, Monroe doctrine, protection versus free- 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 11 


trade, international copyright, patent or trade-mark law, inter 
national cables, canals, tunnels, etc. 

But as stated by Professor Amos, of University College, Lon 
don, England, it has these additional functions to perform: 

(a) To facilitate intercourse of states and their citizens in 
time of peace. 

(b) To obviate and determine the occasions of war. 

(c) To moderate the severities and restrict the area of war. 

A clear comprehension of international law is essential for 
diplomatic settlement of international differences, and for the 
extension of a recognition of its utility, wisdom, and justice. 

Hence a codification is imperatively demanded in the interests 
of peace, progress, and human happiness, to all of which war is 
so distinctly inimical. 

This codification should and would be s the embodiment of 
the purest reason and the loftiest morality." It would have for 
its sole end such an adjustment of the relations of the several 
states of the world as would best enable each to contribute its 
share to the welfare and moral advancement of all. 

This would require a congress of the recognized leading jurists 
of the world to form a scientific opinion upon the existing state of 
international law ; to gather, collate, sift, and point all principles 
and rules which affect or are likely to affect international inter 
course, and to correct unjust precedents. 

This would be a legitimate evolution from the beginnings of 
Balthasar Ayala, Alberico Gentili, Grotius, Pufendorf and 
Vattel, from the attempt of Prof. Bluntschli to correct " glaring 
gaps, contradictions, and ambiguities, " and from Mr. Dudley 
Field's able effort to present international law in an ideal form. 

Such a codification would be the first step towards the pre 
vention of war. And the prayers of the civilized world would be 
with the governments convening such a congress of jurists, as 
with the jurists themselves in their labors. 

The second step would be the education of public opinion : 

(1) To recognize the equality of populations, morally and 
spiritually, and to understand that even the smallest states have 
rights and functions which ought to be respected. 

(2) To encourage commercial and social intercourse between 
nations and the consequent growth of mutual interests which 
may not be lightly imperilled. 


(3) To extend proper political franchise and personal liberty. 

(4) To cultivate a knowledge of what war means. 

(5) To correct spurious patriotism, by which we mean patriot 
ism based upon wrong or unjust argument. For example, French 
patriotism cries for Alsace and Lorraine, but these provinces were 
originally German. Why blame Germany for taking back what once 
^as hers ? German patriotism says " Keep Alsace and Lorraine, 
because they were originally German." Why then does not Ger 
many restore Silesia, which properly is Austrian ? Italy made a 
grand and successful fight for Italian independence, Germany for 
German unity. Several 'powers strove nobly and sucessfully for 
the independence of Greece. But the " spurious patriotism" of 
the powers which "partitioned" Poland prevents the independence 
and unity of that country a country once not impotent in the 
councils of Europe's nations and one to which Europe is as much 
indebted for hurling back the tide of Mohammedan invasion 
through her king Sobieski, as it is to Greece for stemming the 
tide of Persian invasion through a Leonidas or a Themistocles. 

Russia expels Catholics, Protestants, and Jews in pursuance of 
the " Kussia for the Russians " policy. The civilized world calls 
that a " spurious patriotism " which drives out or coops up law- 
abiding and industrious citizens. The United States is, of all na 
tions on earth, the most solemnly pledged to further the cause of 
popular and constitutional liberty, of which she is the very apostle. 
Yet a "spurious patriotism" makes her pronounce invariably for 
Russia, where there is anything but popular or constitutional 
liberty shall we say especially where England is concerned ? 
Never is American patriotism more spurious than when it is 
called forth against that very England to which she owes so 
much that is glorious in her fibre, her sentiments, her literature, 
her institutions, her liberties, and most important of all, 
her very religion ! Never is it more spurious and more re 
grettable than when it impedes the natural destiny of Anglo - 
Saxondom ultimate union to the real advantage of each of its 
constituent nations. 

Following the codification of international law and the edu 
cation of public opinion, a third step towards the prevention of 
war would be the institution of arbitration as an accepted prin 
ciple, and its recognition as the duty and prerogative of an inter 
national court, duly and permanently established. 



As to the actual and possible wrongs of war we need only re 
capitulate its costs and curses, viz. : 

(a) Standing armies, or millions of men consumers instead of 
producers ; the general community therefore not only taxed to 
support them, but deprived of their contributions toward the 
general prosperity, and toward the lessening of the general 

(b) The withdrawal of just so many brains and pairs of hands 
from the agricultural, mining, manufacturing, and other in 
dustries, and from laboratory, study, and office, wherein means 
are devised for enterprises which would- supply work for thou 
sands of men and women, to the increase of the country's re 

The following figures are significant : 

Cost of army 
and navy. 


Men withdrawn 
from industrial 

Taxes could 
be reduced. 








488 000 000 



United States 





In twenty European states the cost of army and navy is 
$1,638,000,000; debt, $25,000,000,000 ; soldiers, or men withdrawn 
from industrial pursuits, available 22,621,800 ! That is to say, 
there are 22,000,000 standing arguments against a religion of 
peace and good will ; 22,000,000 arguments against any claim fora 
civilization more ethical than that of old Rome ; 22,000,000 argu 
ments to show that it is time to make religion a power for good 
the life-influencing power it was meant to be. 

(c) War means "glorious victories," which term, translated 
into plainer English, means thousands of widows, more orphans, 
countless broken hearts, shadowed lives and shattered homes ; 
brave men killed, more wounded, vet more stricken with diseases 
caught in the field ; strong men made burdens for life on the 
community ; and in this country the awful scandal and far- 
reaching injustice of the pension list. 

(d) War means military and naval budgets, which summon 
the clouds of national bankruptcy and keep aglow the embers of 
discontent. Witness Italy to-day. 

(e) Legacies of national hatred, jealousy, and ill-feeling. We 


note a regrettable change in French sentiment towards England, 
due to clashing Eastern interests. Imagine war between France 
and Great Britain ! They have been friends for decades and are 
bound by myriad ties. It is no impossibility. But what a blot 
on civilization ! They would be face to face as foes in Europe, 
Asia, Africa, and America ! It would mean a spread of the blood 
lust which lurks in men's hearts. It would mean endless com 
plications. Few countries in the world but would feel them. 
Few homes in both lands but would sympathize with hearts dark 
with the shadow of death. Few hearts but would be wrung with 
the echoing moan of sorrow. Alas ! It would mean kinsman 
against kinsman. 

(/) War means the brute argument of tooth and claw. What 
an insult to our intelligence ! What an insult to Christianity, 
the religion professed by earth's great nations ! Yet we are told 
that preparation for war is a necessity. Gladstone expressed 
his misgivings to a parliamentary deputation, asking that over 
tures be made for a mutual disarmament of the powers, and he 
spoke as premier of England ! Caprivi put his foot on the 
mere proposition ! And he spoke as Chancellor of mighty Ger 

Arbitration is suggested as a remedy. 

The examples already offered, especially by England and the 
United States, are brilliant pages in the annals of humanity. 

From a paper of Professor Semmes, of the Louisiana Univer 
sity, read at the recent Chicago Religious Congress, we learn 
that the idea and practice of arbitration for national differences 
have steadily gained ground. This is the best, because most prac 
tical, argument for its utility. He says that from 1793 to 1848, 
a period of fifty-five years, there were nine such arbitrations 
only nine. In the next twenty-two years there were fifteen, in 
the next ten years there were fourteen, and in the last thirteen 
years there have been thirteen ; that is to say, in the last forty- 
five years arbitration has averted forty-two wars. 

But arbitration has its dangers. The care which must be ex 
ercised in selecting arbitrators shows to what an extent distrust 

Small powers are often chosen, as if the greater the power, the 
greater the possibilities of interests being involved which might 
warp judgment. 


For example. Suppose England and Russia clash in the 
East no remote contingency can England accept France as 
arbitrator ? Not at all. For France is irate with England and 
is the sworn friend of Russia, upon whose power alone she relies 
for help against the Dreibund. Nor would any of the latter be 
acceptable to Russia. And it is useless concealing the spurious 
patriotism which makes the United States imagine that her 
interests lie in the weakening or humiliation of England, a senti 
ment which sufficiently excludes her good offices. 

Another possible complication is France and Russia versus the 
Dreibund. England is out of the question as arbitrator, and the 
United States leans too much for obvious reasons, to France and 

But let us ask : Does it accord with the dignity of the great 
powers to ask a second-rate or third-rate power to arbitrate ? 

A modification of arbitration is that it be submitted to com 
petent lawyers. But natural, even though it be spurious, patriot 
ism again enters here as a possible element, and amour propre is 
not an impotent factor in judgment. 

Granted that kings, statesmen, and lawyers of high repute are 
gentlemen of honor, and as judges would always act as such, yet 
if this be so and always was so, how is it that so many wars have 
taken place between nations that refused all diplomatic settle 
ment, including arbitration 9 

Not that the proposition to have a court of lawyers is at all a 
bad one. On the contrary, it is a decided step forward. But it 
is a suggestion which needs development. 

At present it serves admirably to introduce what we mean by 


It is true that arbitration is the only becoming solution of the 
problem how to abolish war. 

But there must be some established arbitrative power to which 
disputing nations can appeal. 

1. It must be above suspicion. 

2. It must be removed from any chance of being biased by 
any possible political considerations. 

3. It must have a moral, and if need be, a physical force be 
hind it to enforce its decisions. 

There is but one arbitrative power which can fulfil all these 


requirements, and we offer it because it comes from that book 
which has already given mankind so many practical ideals 
the Bible. 

But it involves the restoration of Palestine to the Hebrew 
nation. The mere suggestion of this opens a vista of practical 
results of tremendous importance, if we will only pause to merely 
glance at them. For it means : 

(a) The solution of the vexed Eastern question, the political 
rivalries and jealousies in the East. These affect all the powers, for 
England cannot afford to have another power on the highway be 
tween her and her Indian and Australian empires. France chafes 
already at England in Egypt. Austria and Italy have Mediter 
ranean interests which may not be overshadowed ; and Russia 
considers she is bound by political and religious motives to have 
Palestine herself. 

(b) The solution of religious rivalries and jealousies which affect 
the three great religious worlds of Catholic, Protestant, and Greek 
Church. None can afford to have the other supreme in the land 
whose very dust is so sacred to all. 

(c) The erection of the Hebrew nation by the powers into a 
neutral state, its boundaries prescribed by the Bible limitation 
(Gen. xv. 18-21 ; Deut. xi. 24), so that it could not possibly have 
any territorial ambition beyond them, nor could it ever be exposed 
to political intrigue for its own aggrandizement. 

(d) The opening up of a vast commerce, for which the He 
brews are peculiarly qualified by commercial genius, and for which 
they are prepared by their commercial establishments in all coun 
tries, which would be maintained and continued. (See Isa. Ixi. 9.) 
In this commerce all nations would advantageously participate. 
For Palestine, geographically, is the natural converging point of 
the trade routes between two continents, Europe and Africa on one 
side, and two continents, Asia and Australia, on the other. Tyre, 
Sidon, Elath, Ezion-Geber, Beyrout, Haifa, and Acre among 
her ports would speedily become the London, Marseilles, New 
York, or Hamburg of the East. And while to them the ships of 
the world would ' ( fly as a cloud and as doves to their windows " 
(Isa. Ix. 8), the hum of industry's pauseless fingers would be the 
psalm of life of myriads in a land once a granary of the world, 
the successors of the myriads of whose existence the countless 
ruins of to-day are the dumb but heart-moving witnesses. 


(e) It would mean the solution of the so-called Jewish ques 
tion, whether it ia Kussian Pan-slav policy or Franco-German 
anti-semitism which propounds it. And the Hebrew nation of 
to-day, by its eminence in finance, letters, science, and trade, de 
serves attention for reasons which need not here be noted. 

(/) And it would mean the fulfilment of two Bible ideals of 
vital importance to humanity. The one is "a house of prayer 
for all nations " (Isa. Ivi. 7). This would be erected in the same 
broad spirit which made King Solomon pray when he dedicated 
his temple : " And also the stranger who is not of Thy people 
Israel, and cometh from a far-off land, because of Thy Name, 
when they hear of Thy great Name and Thy strong hand and 
Thine outstretched arm, and he come and pray to this temple, 
do Thou hear in Heaven the place of Thy dwelling and do all 
that the stranger crieth to Thee for!" (I. Kings viii. 41 seq.) 
This would mean the quickening of the idea of the Brotherhood 
of Man, recognizing the Father of all of us. 

And the other ideal would be the institution of a world's 
court of arbitration, when "out of Zion shall go forth law, and He 
will judge between the nations and reprove many peoples ; and 
they shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into 
pruning-hooks; nation will not lift up sword against nation, 
neither will they learn war any more." (Isa. ii. 3-4; Micah iv. 2 
and 3.) 

If the codification of international law by the chief jurists 
of the world is the first step towards the solution of war and the 
education of public opinion to the cost, the injustice, the horror, 
and the shame of war is the second, this creation of an interna 
tional court of arbitration is the final step and the guarantee of 
peace and its blessings. It would be based upon such codification, 
its force would rest secure in public opinion. The administra 
tion of international law would be intrusted to the said court, 
each member of which would be a graduate in international law, 
high in rank among the learned of the Hebrew nation, esteemed 
as an authority on the polity of nations by the world at large and 
known to be in life sans peur et sans reproche. We say Hebrews, 
because the Hebrew nation alone has and can have no political 
interests outside its Bible boundaries to bias its decision. Arbi 
tration, impartial and honorable, will thus be rendered by a court 
of a nation whose very existence will depend upon impartiality ; 


whose past history will cry to it to judge righteously and fearlessly. 
Its environment will be the Temple, dedicated to the Father of 
all ; and over its members will be the halo of religion. 

That it would take years to codify international law and edu 
cate public opinion against war, yes. But what are a few years in 
view of the advantages to be ultimately gained ? And it may be 
years before the final step can be taken, the restoration of Pales 
tine to the Hebrews, for this is not to be until God's own time 
(Isa. Ix. 22). The colonies, settled and settling there, seem but 
preparatory for their reception. But once a fait accompli, a gen 
eral disarmament could then be safely expected and safely effected. 

What if a nation should refuse to abide by the law going forth 
from Zion ? It is a very remote contingency. The very treaty 
erecting Palestine into a neutral state, and clothing its court of 
international arbitration with its functions, would provide for 
just such a contingency. The moral force of the educated public 
opinion would speedily bring a recalcitrant nation to its senses. 
How could it withstand a threatened ostracism, or a combina 
tion of physical force or other penalties ? But the time will 
come, it must come, when nations "will not learn war any more" 
and when humanity's watchwords at last will be Eight and 
Eeason instead of Might and Treason. 

Before our eyes rises a picture of the nations restoring the 
Hebrews " as an offering," as the prophet phrases it (Isa. Ixvi. 
20) : shall we say as " an amendment offering "for the injustice of 
lead-footed centuries ? We dream of that martyr-nation of history, 
" despised and rejected," as that very prophet foretold, "wounded 
through others' transgressions, bruised through others' iniquities," 
at last rightly, justly, lovingly dealt with ! 

But with the picture and the dream, and far surpassing both 
in beauty, we behold a vision of peace and goodwill at last on earth 
or as the psalmist grandly words it : "Love and truth meet 
ing, righteousness and peace embracing, truth springing forth 
from earth, and charity looking down from heaven " (Ps. Ixxxv.). 

that some statesman would crown his life by reaching 
out to turn war with its cost, curse, and crime, into a realization 
of the ideal of prophet and psalmist ! 





THE true yachtsman is a genuine sailor in whose breast is 
that strong, enduring love of the sea that voluntarily braves its 
dangers and shrinks not from its possible privations and discom 
forts. His is the eye quick to catch the lines of beauty, the 
grace of form, and the elements of strength and utility in all 
manner of craft that go down to the sea. If he is worthy of this 
royal sport, his soul has heard and responded to the voice of 
nature, and to him the olden gods of wind and wave are no longer 
myths but eternal verities, speaking to him of mysteries and 
secrets that the profane heart cannot understand. Man first 
built vessels of necessity and utility, then ships of war, and lastly 
those for pleasure, and the last is first cousin to the second, and 
the country which produces them in numbers has got the naval 
spirit. The modern well-conditioned yacht assimilates her life as 
nearly as possible to that of the war ship in her order, discipline, 
etiquette, and even outward emblems and signs, and as a general 
rule all yachtsmen are the warmest and closest friends of the 
naval establishment. They have for many years been the most 
earnest advocates of a naval reserve, and are to-day, to a large 
extent, the stimulus that helps forward the existing naval militia. 

The growth of yachting in the United States in the last 
twenty years, marvellous as it has been, is but one of the many 
signs of the turning of our people again to the sea, and the re- 
establishment of our merchant marine in the proud position it 
held in the days of the famous clipper ships. At heart we are a 
maritime people, and, possessing, as we do, a long stretch of 
coast, enclosing broad arms of the sea, it is not surprising that 


yachting is growing in popularity. No other country affords 
such broad expanses of sheltered waters as Massachusetts Bay, 
Long Island Sound, the Chesapeake, the sounds of the Carolinas, 
Mobile Bay, Santa Barbara Channel, San Francisco Bay, Puget 
Sound, and the great and lesser lakes, with their numerous trib 
utaries and adjacent harbors. 

On January 1st of this year there were ninety regular organ 
ized yacht clubs and four auxiliary associations in the United 
States. The yachts are owned either by clubs, by two or three 
owners associated together, or by individuals who can afford to 
own one or more on their own account. There are about two 
thousand two hundred and fifty of this last named class in this 
country, and quite a number of them own two or three each. In 
all the remainder of this hemisphere there are but seven yacht 
clubs all told, three in Canada, and one each in Nova Scotia, 
Cuba, Jamaica, and the Argentine Republic. The state of New 
York heads the list with thirty-two clubs ; Massachusetts has nine 
teen ; New Jersey, ten ; Connecticut, seven ; California and 
Rhode Island, three each ; Maine, Pennsylvania, Maryland and 
Florida, two each ; North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama and 
Louisiana, one each ; and there are ten clubs along the Lake re 
gion on our northern boundary, two of which are included in the 
thirty-two credited above to New York. Of the clubs enumerated 
as to States, at least forty are located in New York harbor, Long 
Island Sound, and their adjacent waters. The interior waterway 
communication along our coast line, so well illustrated in the re 
cent trip of the torpedo boat " Gushing/' gives additional im 
petus to yachting through the enormous water course it is now 
possible to traverse in even the smallest class of yachts with per 
fect safety, and to the rivalry thus offered through visiting yachts 
from various sections of the coast. 

What is or may be, from a naval standpoint, the value of all 
this individual and organized effort ? 

There are two elements to be considered : First, the men ; 
and second, the yachts themselves. Both are now of value to 
the country, the yachts in the lesser degree than the trained 
yachtsmen, but both may be made of greater value by a proper 
appreciation of their possibilities. The men, through their ex 
perience in handling yachts under all conditions of sea and 
weather, through their acquired knowledge of the waters in which 


they cruise, and through their general nautical training, offer a 
magnificent field for the formation of State naval militia organi 
zations and ultimately for a national naval reserve. And while 
few yachts are so constructed as to be of much use in time of 
war, yet the possibilities are such that, by mutual agreement be 
tween yacht owners and the government when the plans are 
under consideration, they may be constructed to answer the 
double purpose of yachts in time of peace and naval auxiliaries 
in time of war. 

The fostering of a reserve of men and ships, supplemental to 
the regular forces, is only second in importance to the creation of 
a navy itself. Maritime power goes hand in hand with naval 
power, for a commercial marine can only be built up and main 
tained coincidently with the creation of an efficient navy. Un 
questionably the building of war ships has contributed largely to 
the renewal of our ship building industries, and the study of 
ship construction for war purposes has served the double purpose 
of improving the details, and of raising the standard of the 
tests and requirements, of ship building in general. In the especial 
construction of vessels such as the "St. Paul" and "St. Louis " 
as naval auxiliaries, we note the gradual approach of types of ships 
in which the commercial and naval ideas are blended. A similar 
approach in type of steam yachts and the smaller auxiliaries of the 
navy, is sure to come later. 

It takes longer to make seamen, however, than to make ships. 
That our present naval personnel is inadequate, even for peace 
conditions, is shown by the increase on July 1st of this year of 
the complement of men in our navy by 1,000, simply because we 
have recently added a few new ships to the navy, yet the total 
force at present is only 10,000 men. At the breaking out of the 
Civil War the complement had been fixed at 7,600. By July, 
1803, there were 34,000 in the service, and when the war closed 
there were 51,500 enrolled in the navy. Our merchant marine, 
then glorious in its extent, furnished most of these ; but where 
shall we look for our reserve now ? 

At the end of the war there were 7,600 officers in the navy, 
and 671 ships in commission. Of the officers, but one-seventh 
were regulars. Where shall we get others now ? Of the ships, 
but 277 were built by the government. Where shall we get our 
auxiliaries now ? Our merchant marine is small, and modern 


naval requirements are different, the naval profession being so com 
plex; where, therefore, are we to get our reserve of men and 
ships ? They can no longer be picked up under the spur of 
necessity. It is now a question of systematic, steady preparation 
and organization in time of peace. 

The naval militia organizations, as bred and created largely in 
a yachting atmosphere and now existing in thirteen States, with 
a present complement of 226 officers and 2,706 men, are the first 
auxiliaries to be considered. The existing naval militia is pri 
marily a State organization, dependent largely upon local and State 
support, and enrolled as part of the National Guard. It is not a 
true naval reserve which should owe allegiance only to the gen 
eral government and be subject solely to the naval regulations 
governing the general service. While subject, however, to State 
control, the naval militia is kept in constant touch with the regu 
lar establishment by receiving, for arms and equipments, in each 
State, a portion of the $25,000 annually appropriated for its en 
couragement by Congress, and distributed by the Department 
under such rules as are deemed wisest and best for the object to 
be accomplished. Congress has also authorized by law the loan 
of unused ships and other property to States having organized 
and equipped naval militia. The ships so loaned are those out of 
commission and unsuited for regular naval service. The greatest 
difficulty now encountered is to find a sufficient number of such 
vessels to meet the demand. The discarded wooden ships of the 
old navy make most excellent inshore armories for these organiza 
tions, but, unfortunately, these have nearly all been disposed of 
by sale or otherwise. Following the spirit, as well as the letter of 
the law, the Department has endeavored to give to these organiza 
tions every possible encouragement, keeping them in touch with 
the navy by advice on all professional subjects, inspection by 
officers whenever desired, issuing printed documents for their in 
struction, opening up to them all sources of professional informa 
tion, and giving them each summer an opportunity for a short 
cruise on some of the ships in the regular service, where, in addi 
tion to being taught somewhat of the manifold duties of a man- 
of-warsman, they are enabled to practise firing the great guns 
at a target from the moving ship. They are also allowed to 
draw at first cost arms and equipments from the portion of the 
national allowance allotted to their State. As a result, in some 


of the States, the naval militia is the best armed military body 
in the State, having rapid fire guns of the very latest pat 
tern, magazine rifles, and good serviceable navy revolvers. All 
this, however, would be of little avail without intelligent, persis 
tent, and enthusiastic individual effort and the support of the 
State to whose forces they belong. It is but right that it should 
be said here that some of the States have been most liberal and 
progressive in encouraging and aiding this new arm of defense. 
In the States where the organization is best and most efficient 
these results have been secured by great labor, patience, and tact. 
There were and are sources of opposition calling forth determina 
tion and sound judgment. 

What is the future of the naval militia ? Will it grow 
into a true naval reserve under national auspices, such for 
instance as that possessed by England ? In time of war, 
where will be its most practicable field ? Manning sea coast 
batteries, inner line coast defense ships, or furnishing crews 
to the regular sea-going fighting vessels ? As to all this, the 
best officers in the service differ ; and indeed at this moment, 
the possibilities of the organization are so great and its field so 
wide that no one can give categorical replies to these queries. 
That it is a good organization for the country scarcely any one 
will deny. It is now largely in its formative period, and when 
wisely led, is following the line of least resistance in search of its 
best field of usefulness as a part of the national defense of the coast 
and on the high seas. It is everywhere doing good, hard, honest, 
preparatory work, often under very discouraging circumstances ; 
is full of naval enthusiasm ; and willing to make sacrifices and 
undergo hardships. As a purely local organization in the large 
cities having navigable water front, it will, in case of need, be 
found a most efficient military body doing work which could not 
be done, at least so well, by the purely land forces. Its rapid 
growth in many States without any concerted movement or official 
encouragement is especially suggestive of the active and un 
selfish spirit of patriotism to be found in our country. 

The sea-going yachts give to yachtsmen the very best training 
in seamanship and navigation, but it is to the steam yacht in 
particular that we must look for the auxiliary vessel for naval 
purposes in time of war. Three types of these are now being 


. 1st. The large, full-powered steam yachts like the " Atlanta," 
" Corsair," " Conqueror," " Columbia," " Electra," " Eleanor," 
"Margarita," "May," "Namouna," " Nourmahal," "Oneida," 
" Peerless," " Sagamore," " Sapphire," " Utowana," and 
" Valiant." 

2d. The auxiliary type with moderate steam and sail power, 
as illustrated by the " Intrepid " and " Wild Duck." 

3d. The high speed boats for sheltered waters and compara 
tively short runs, like the " Now Then," " Say When," " Hel 
vetia," " Norwood " and a host of others. 

The first and third classes might be utilized as torpedo boats 
by considerable alterations in the direction of removing unneces 
sary weights and strengthening the decks, but the types in the 
future, by conforming in the plans to one or two necessary con 
ditions, might be made to answer all the purposes of the owner 
in time of peace and of the government in time of war. Just 
how this agreement would be arrived at between the owner and 
the government is a question depending largely upon the patri 
otic impulses of the owners and upon the liberality of the gov 
ernment in the way of guarantees. For instance, the government 
might furnish inspectors to superintend the building ; provide 
all the supports, racks, bulkheads, fittings and outfits of a mili 
tary character ; have the yachts regularly inspected as to hull, 
fittings and machinery and the competence of the master and 
engineers ; and finally, enroll them in a naval reserve, with the 
right to fly a special flag and to uniform their officers and crew 
in conformity therewith. . 

In return, the government should have the right to charter or 
purchase them in time of war, and, by special agreement, to use 
them for a few days each year for drill or training purposes at a 
time when the owners would need them least. Granting that 
this system would not spoil a yacht in any way for the purposes 
for which the owner built her, and that the cost to the govern 
ment, outside of the actual inspection and the war materials, 
should be more or less nominal and should in no circumstances 
include anything in the nature of a bonus, it would seem that 
the advantages on both sides might be sufficient to warrant 
a trial of the system. There are, and probably always will 
be, numerous Whitehead and Howell torpedo oufits stored at 
the Torpedo Station, at Newport, K. I., and the process of 


fitting out or converting a yacht would only occupy a few 

There are three methods of installing the tubes from which 
the torpedoes are fired: 1st, over all; 2d, between decks; and 3d, 
below the water line. The last named is very expensive and 
need not be considered. It is the height of the upper deck 
above the water that determines which of the other two is used. 
Eleven feet is considered the limit at which a torpedo may be 
launched. If the upper deck is higher than this, the installation 
must be between decks. This necessitates extra weights, as the 
shutter for the tube and the ball joint for training a beam are re 
quired. The question of weights is most important. 

Whitehead torpedoes weigh about 850 pounds each, and at 
least two are carried for each tube. Except in time of war or 
during periods of drill, the torpedoes would not be carried on 
board. The number of tubes would depend on the size of the 
yacht. The lower deck tubes, mounts, deck circles, etc., weigh 
about 2,800 pounds, and the upper deck fittings, complete, about 
2,100 pounds. Each yacht would require a Bliss air compressor, 
with separator and accessories, weighing about 475 pounds. 

The Howell torpedo weighs about 514 pounds. Weights are 
practically the same for the mounts, but no air compressor is 
needed. A boiler pressure of 80 pounds of steam is, however, re 
quired to operate the fly-wheel. 

As regards the weight of battery, any type of one-pounder 
rapid-fire gun will weigh with mounts from 225 to 275 pounds, 
and the boxes of ammunition about 122 pounds each. 

Within the limits of this article it has been impossible to speak 
of the great mass of small steam and sailing craft which are 
sailed and managed by their owners, who are in large part young 
men and boys strongly imbued with a love of things nautical 
and who, in case of necessity, being highly intelligent, more or 
less skilled in the arts of the sailor, and deeply patriotic, could be 
relied on as a most excellent and efficient force for naval 
defensive operations. 

The eager and enthusiastic yachting spirit now abroad 
in our land bodes well, not only for the navy, but for the mer 
chant marine, to see a healthy revival of which is the ardent hope 
of all who love the Republic. 




IT HAS been my lot for so long a series of years to be concerned 
in the art and practice of cycling that the various effects of it, 
good and bad, have become with me a matter of common observa 
tion. I feel as conversant with the details as if they formed a part 
of my prof essional life, and this fact enables me to speak with a cer 
tain degree of confidence, which is strengthened by the circum 
stance that I have no kind of prejudices bearing upon the subject. 
Cycling came before me in the first place in what may be called 
an accidental manner. I had been presiding at a sanitary con 
gress held at Leamington, in the county of Warwick ; the first 
held in England in which matters relating to health alone were 
introduced. Connected with this congress was a large sanitary 
exhibition ; and amongst the exhibits there were a few bicycles 
and one of the first machines manufactured in this country in the 
shape of a tricycle. This tricycle was worked by what was called 
lever movement ; the pedal, now so universal, not having been 
then applied to tricycles. The late Sir Edwin Chadwick, one of 
the Vice-Presidents of the congress, who, though far advanced 
in life, was as alert as a schoolboy on all inventions that pre 
sented novelty and that affected the health of the body, had his 
attention called to this new machine. Greatly struck by it and 
by the good work that could be done upon it, he promised to 
bring me next day to see it in action, and so, accompanied by a 
large number of the council of the congress, I went with him and 
had the whole thing explained to me by the exhibitor. Seeing 
that movement upon it comparatively simple, I had the ma 
chine brought out to an asphalt passage leading to the main road, 
and straightway mounted it. The attendants were prompt in their 
efforts to prevent my sustaining injury from the venture. But 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 12 


all idea of danger rapidly disappeared, and I very soon ran away 
from my protectors, reached the main road, which lay at a right 
angle from the asphalt passage, proceeded a good half mile on my 
own account, and returned in triumph, to the great delight of 
the lookers-on. From that day until now I have been a cyclist. 
I very soon had a machine of my own, choosing what was called 
a " Rob Roy," in which the levers were replaced by pedals, a 
very nice instrument, which had, however, the misfortune of be 
ing what is called a " single-driver "; that is to say, progression 
upon it was by the work of one wheel. Then followed the 
" Salvo," in which machine the late Mr. Starley, of Coventry, 
got over the difficulty of the single wheel by the compensation 
process, and turned out a' really admirable instrument, one of 
which kind I rode for several years with great comfort and safety, 
and which, in fact, I still retain. It was a very heavy machine, 
weighing about 120 pounds. The wheels were unnecessarily high 
and the gearing was low, but, nevertheless, I got on with it, 
climbing the hills with great ease, and, as the brake was perfect, 
went down hills with a rapidity and safety that could not easily 
be excelled. Later on I followed the various improvements of 
machines using two trackers. 

My experience has all been, personally, with the tricycle, but 
my observation has extended also to bicycles through the ex 
periences of those who have been my companions, for very soon I 
found companionship in cycling more than in any other pastime, 
and it is from such experiences, together with my own, that I 
write what is subjoined. 

From the first my impressions have been always in favor 
of cycling, and, to some extent, the expression of that favor on 
certain public occasions has, I think, helped to popularize the 
movement. I believe the exercise has been of the greatest service 
to large numbers of people. It has made them use their limbs; it 
it has called out good mental qualities, and it has taken away 
from close rooms, courts and streets, hundreds of thousands 
of persons who would otherwise never have had the opportunity 
of getting into the fresh air and seeing the verdant fields and 
woods, the lakes and rivers, and the splendid scenery that adorn 
our land. This is all in favor of the cycle, the bicycle or tricy- 
cle, but I have yet more to say in the same direction. I am 
bound to indicate from direct observation that cycling has been 


useful in the cure of some diseases and that it is always carried on 
with advantage, even when there is a marked disease. I have 
seen it do a great deal of good to persons suffering from fatty dis 
ease of the heart, from gout, from dyspepsia, from varicose veins, 
from melancholia, from failure due to age, from some forms of 
heart disease, from intermittent pulse and palpitation, and dis 
tinctly from anemia. Moreover, I have known persons who could 
not have been expected to ride without danger get on extremely 
well in their riding, and have often, with due precautions, given 
permission to ride even to some patients to whom five and twenty 
years ago I should have forbidden every kind of exercise. These 
truths I have proclaimed publicly without any hesitation, and 
sometimes to the wonder of friends who still held views which I 
had been compelled to discard. 

But now it is my duty to speak on the other side and to report 
such experience as yields evidence of dangers from cycling. I 
shall speak on this point as explicitly as is necessary. 

There are dangers from cycling. The first is the danger of 
teaching the practice to subjects who are too young. Properly, 
cycling should not be carried on with any ardor while the body 
is undergoing its development while the skeleton, that is to say, 
is as yet imperfectly developed. The skeleton is not completely 
matured until twenty-one years of life have ben given to it. The 
cartilaginous structures have to be transformed into true osseous 
structures before the body can be said to be naturally perfected. 
If it be pressed into too rapid exercise while it is undergoing its 
growth it is the easiest thing in the world to make the growth 
premature, or even to cause a deformity. The spinal column is 
particularly apt to be injured by too early riding, and the exquisite 
curve of the spinal column, which gives to that column when it 
is natural such easy and graceful attitudes for standing erect, 
stooping, and bending, is too often distorted by its rigidity or 
want of resiliency. When that is the case the limbs share in the 
injury. They do not properly support the trunk of the body, 
and pedestrian exercise, thereupon, becomes clumsy, irregular, 
and ungraceful. We see these errors particularly well marked in 
the young, now that the cross-bar system of the cycle has come 
so generally into use. The tendency in riding is for the body to 
bend forward so as to bring itself almost into the curve of the 
front wheel, and in this position many riders hold themselves for 


hours, and the spine more or less permanently assumes the 
bent position. In plain words, the column becomes distorted, 
and through the whole life affects the movements of the body. 

There are further injuries done to the youth, male or female, 
through other organs of the body and especially through the 
heart. Dr. Kolb, as well as myself, has found that it is the heart 
which is principally exercised during cycling. So soon as brisk 
cycling has commenced the motions of the heart begin to increase. 
In this respect cycling differs from many other exercises. Kowing 
tells most on the breathing organs ; dumb-bells and other exer 
cises where the muscles are moved without progression of the 
body, tell most on the muscles ; whilst in climbing and long 
pedestrian feats it is the nervous system that is most given to 
suffer. There is not a cycle rider of any age in whom the heart 
is not influenced so as to do more work, and although in skilled 
cyclists and trained cyclists a certain balance is set up which 
equalizes the motion, such riders are not exempt from danger. 
I have known the beats of the heart to rise from 80 to 200 in the 
minute, in the first exercise of riding, an increase which, for the 
time, more than doubles the amount of work done a very serious 
fact when we remember that the extreme natural motion of the 
heart allows it to perform a task equal to raising not less than 122 
foot-tons in the course of 24 hours, that is to say, over 5 foot-tons 
an hour. In the young we may apply the same argument to the 
heart as we have done to the skeleton ; the heart is undergoing 
its development, and it is an organ which cannot without danger 
be whipped on beyond its natural pace. What occurs with it 
under such circumstances is that it grows larger than it ought 
to grow, that it works out of harmony with the rest of the body, 
and is then most easily agitated by influences and impressions 
acting upon it through the mind. I have many times seen this 
truth illustrated too plainly, and I doubt whether in the young, 
after extreme exercise, such as that which arises from a prolonged 
race, the heart ever comes down to its natural beat for a period 
of less than three days devoted to repose. 

In the young, excessive riding affects unfavorably the muscles 
of the body generally, as well as the heart, which is itself a 
muscle. Properly, the muscles go through stages of develop 
ment just as the skeleton does, and to attain a truly good mus 
cular form all the great groups of muscles ought to be evenly 


and systematically exercised. But cycling does not do that ; it 
develops one set of muscles at the expense of the other. It does 
not develop the chest muscles properly ; it does not develop the 
arm muscles properly ; it does not develop the abdominal muscles 
properly ; it does not essentially develop the muscles of the back ; 
but it does develop the muscles of the lower limbs, and that out 
of proportion to all the rest. I have a picture in my mind's eye 
at this moment of a youth who, when stripped, was actually de 
formed by the disproportionate size of the muscles of the calf of 
the leg, and of the forepart of the thigh an effect which un 
balanced the body as a whole, and greatly impaired it for good 
healthy action. 

Lastly, in the young, cycling often tells unfavorably on the ner 
vous function. The brain and nervous system, like skeleton and 
muscle, have to be slowly nurtured up to maturity, and if they be 
called upon to do too much while they are in the immature state, 
if the senses of sight and hearing and touch have to be too much 
exercised, even though by such exercise danger from collisions 
may be skilfully averted, perhaps to the admiration of lookers-on, 
there is a tax put upon those organs which makes them prema 
turely old and unfitted for the more delicate tasks that have after 
wards to be performed. 

There are two classes of dangers arising out of overstrain in 
cycling : the first may be called the extreme, the second the mod 
erate danger. I will take the extreme first. This is shown in 
those remarkable athletes who enter into competitions such as 
have never before been dreamed of in the history of the world. 
The results of such competitions have as yet excited comparatively 
little notice among men who are specially skilled in estimating 
their importance, but they convey the strangest intelligence as to 
the physical capabilities of man. They show that men have been 
found able to travel, by virtue of their own bodily energy, 400 
miles at one effort. They show also that men can be trained to 
perform this effort without sleep, and that the body can be kept 
using itself up, as it were, for the long period of 40 hours. Sleep, 
which the poet tells us " knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, is 
the balm of hurt minds, and chief nourisher in Life's feast/' sleep, 
which is the very harbinger of health, is here set aside, with the 
result of a victory absolutely purposeless, at the expense of the 
whole body. There has not been, as far as I can ascertain, a single 


example of a feat of this kind being accomplished without direct 
and immediate sign of injury. Finally, when the labor is done 
there is the period of recovery which lasts for many hours, and is 
in itself an ordeal which the strongest nature ought never to be 
subjected to. The result is that these victims of extreme compe 
tition last but few years in the ordinary condition of health and 

In this criticism is included a summary of the objection which 
has to be made to record breaking, a kind of absurd effort, the 
end of which it is very difficult to foresee, for, unfortunately, it 
maybe urged with apparent plausibility that it is good as prac 
tice. The enthusiastic cyclists tell us that it is through record 
breaking that all the great advances have been made. Record 
breaking, they say, depends upon improvements which take place, 
not simply in the work of the riders or in those who compete, 
but also in the development of the machine itself. It has been 
found, for example, that the lightening of the machine, the re 
duction of its weight down even to twenty or thirty pounds, has 
been one of the great achievements. A man put more work 
originally into a machine weighing, say one hundred and twenty 
pounds, while doing ten or fifteen miles an hour, than is now put 
forth on a light machine doing over twenty miles an hour. There 
is a great deal of truth in this statement, and I fully admit that 
the record breakers have done service in making cycling, as an 
art, a remarkable exhibition of human skill and endurance. I 
have suggested for many years past that the end of these efforts 
will be a transition to the domain of flight, and that a good flying 
machine will ultimately come out of the cycle. The cycle, in fact, 
will develop into the flying machine through the intervention 
of wings, which will be workable by the power of the individual 
alone or aided by some very light motor. It is, therefore, with 
great reluctance, that I protest against the overstrain which I have 
seen. It is a kind of self-martyrdom to which we may conscien 
tiously give admiration and support. 

The second effect of overstrain is rather a forced than a volun 
tary martyrdom. Those who suffer from it are mostly young 
persons, often mere boys, who are made to ply the machine, prob 
ably heavily loaded, in commercial duties and business. It is 
astonishing in this metropolis of London what an amount of work 
a youth can be trained to do. He can really do the work of a 


horse, owing to the quantity and weight of goods he can distribute, 
and the rapidity with which he can get through his task. There 
is a little ambition about it also, for the young people often like 
the exercise, and are proud of showing off their skill and energy, 
while their employers, apprehending no evil from it, let them do 
as much as ever they can. The result is a greatly expedited cir 
culation in these young laborers and an extreme tension of the 
heart and arteries, these organs being as yet immature and easily 
over-expanded under undue pressure. The effects are not imme 
diate, but they lead to enlargement or hypertrophy of the heart 
and to those derangements of the blood vessels which follow upon 
dilatation of the arterial circuit. Afterwards, when the maturity 
is completed and the organs of the body cease to develop, there is 
a disproportion between the vascular system and the other parts 
of the body, which means general irregularity of function ; a 
powerful left heart pulsating into a feeble body, and a powerful 
right heart pulsating into the lungs. The effect must, of neces 
sity, be injurious, and the fact is too well demonstrated in prac 
tice. I have seen this enlargement and over-action in so many 
instances I am convinced that when it is more correctly and widely 
understood it will be recognized that cycling is one of the causes 
of " disease from occupation," and that some public steps will 
have to be taken to limit the danger. But the danger is not al 
ways connected with occupation. Many well to do young persons 
of both sexes, by the enthusiasm and competitive work they throw 
into the exercise, become affected in a similar manner, and have 
to be restrained, when that is possible, from too great an indulgence 
in the pursuit. 

In noticing these evils I have proceeded at once to the most 
important central evil, that which applies to the heart and circu 
lation from overstrain. But there are other phenomena I must 
not let pass. There is often developed in the cyclist a general 
vibratory condition of the body which is mischievous and is shown 
in various acts of movement and thought. There are certain un 
conscious or semi-unconscious movements of the body which be 
come sensible to the subject himself at particular moments when 
great steadiness is called for, as, for instance, when sitting for a 
photograph. There is also shown an over desire for rapidity of 
motion, as if it were necessary at every moment to overcome time 
and curtail distance by labor of an extreme degree. Lastly, there 


is developed a kind of intoxication of movement which grows on 
the mind by what it feeds on and keeps the heart under the im 
pression that it is always requiring the stimulation of the exercise. 
These sensations, it will be said, are entirely "nervous," and 
under a correct interpretation of the word I perfectly admit that 
they are so. It is improper, at the same time, to consider that a 
persistent sensation, or series of sensations, should be disregarded 
altogether because they are what is called " nervous." A repe 
tition of nervous phenomena produces, in a short time, a habit 
that is strengthened by craving or desire, like the desire for al 
cohol and other stimulants when the need is felt of whipping the 
heart into a greater state of activity. I have long been of opin 
ion that all cravings and impulses, indeed, spring from the heart 
as from their centre or magazine, and not from an independent 
brain ; as if, in short, the heart were the mind centre of motive 
desire and action. 

There are some further symptoms observable in many devel 
oped men and women who indulge in cycling and which, though 
they may be minor in degree, should not be neglected. In all 
long tours carried out by cyclists we meet with these minor de 
velopments and I candidly confess that, prudent as I have been 
in my excursions^ I have experienced the symptoms myself. You 
are out on a bright day skimming along the roads, with every 
thing in favor of the exercise. You have gained your <f wind," 
that is to say, your breathing and circulation are going together 
in harmony; you have lost the sensation of strain in the front 
muscles of the thigh; your spirits are exhilarated as you pass 
along ; you do not indulge in spurts but keep steadily at your 
work, and as the day begins to close you are going so merrily 
that you actually regret that the journey has come to an end. 
You dismount for the night: you take, perhaps, a fair supper; 
you luxuriate in a bath, and you go to bed. But when you get 
into bed a most provoking thing occurs; you do not sleep ; you 
are kept awake by a constant restlessness of the muscles. The 
muscles of the lower limbs will not be quiet. They start you up 
in twitches and if you look at the muscles, especially the muscles 
in the calves of the legs, you see that they are in motion although 
you may not feel them. I remember an instance in which the 
observance of these muscular twitchings created actual alarm to 
the rider, and I myself counted no less than sixty of them within 


the minute. They are muscular motions arising from an over- 
irritable condition excited by the riding. They may extend even 
to the muscles of the thighs and they always produce a restless 
night. Toward the morning the muscles become more composed 
and a heavy sleep follows, with a weary waking as if the body 
were as tired on rising as it was on going to bed. Presently, 
when the muscles are again exercised, the weariness passes away 
and a repetition of the cycling effort actually, after a time, ap 
pears to bring more relief, so that you cycle with the greatest 
freedom. The continued exercise is, however, no real cure; the 
phenomena are repeated, and cycling becomes at last a very weari 
some pursuit. I have known actual breakdowns from this dis 
tressing cause, and I warn all cyclists, but especially those who 
have attained middle age, to moderate their enthusiasm whenever 
they find that the motion of cycling long continued produces 
muscular restlessness and impaired sleep. 

The question has often been put to me whether dangers not as 
yet referred to are induced or increased by the efforts of cycling. 
Does hernia, or rupture, occur through cycling ? I can say fairly 
I have never known it. Does enlargement of the veins increase 
through cycling ? I can say fairly I have never known it ; on the 
contrary I have, I think, seen a reduction of venous enlargement 
under the exercise. Does congestion of the brain ever occur, 
with giddiness or other symptoms referable to the head ? I confess 
I have never known it, and I do not recall an example in which 
owing to symptoms immediately induced any rider has felt it neces 
sary to dismount from the machine. But there are two things 
which I have witnessed and which I would like finally to record. 

I have known persons of lymphatic and gouty tendency who 
have taken to cycling and have felt at first great good from it. 
They have become warm advocates of the pastime and, indulging 
in it extremely, have suffered from their extreme devotion to 
it. I have observed that certain of these have become depressed, 
have lost tone, and have been obliged, peremptorily, to give up 
the sport they were so fond of. I have also known amongst the 
gouty a peculiar kind of gout induced by the exercise, and there 
upon a dislike to it a result which is rather unfortunate, as 
well as unnecessary, because the injury has been brought about 
by overdoing the thing, and by turning what would be useful into 
an in j urious practice. In conclusion, though, as I have said, severe 


head symptoms from cycling are unusual, it is within the range 
of my experience to have known general injury in nervous sub 
jects brought on by a too great stress of observation in riding, 
such as is induced by the fear of collision in crowded thorough 
fares, too rapid a motion in descending hills, or too severe a trial 
in overcoming obstacles that caused the danger of a fall. I have 
even known young people, not bad riders, injured by too great 
trespass on nervous power, and I certainly would advise all timid 
riders to avoid tempting Providence too far in trying to show off 
their ability as against their better trained and cooler companions. 




INCREASED imports of merchandise, decreased exports of do 
mestic products ; less gold imported, and more exported ; a 
smaller import and export of silver ; a larger tonnage movement, 
and a diminished immigration such are the main features of the 
trade and navigation of the United States in the fiscal year 1895, 
just closed, compared with the results of the fiscal year 1894. 
This is not on its face a very encouraging showing ; but it repre 
sents far more than the bare statement shows. In June, 1894, 
the situation had been one of extreme depression and financial 
anxiety for more than a year. The Treasury gold was going out 
at the rate of nearly three-quarters of a million dollars a day, 
and was leaving the country in even larger amounts. The banks 
were proffering " loans " of gold to stop a leak which seemed 
unending. The Treasury had been once replenished, and yet 
the reserve stood at a point lower than had been known since the 
resumption of specie payments. Enterprise was paralyzed under 
the strain, and the gloomiest predictions found ready endorse 
ment in conservative circles. Small " armies " of paupers rov 
ing the country were pointed to as an example of what the future 
would reproduce on a large and dangerous scale. In June, 1895, 
the financial aspect had been improved, but only by passing 
through a crisis the like of which had not been experienced since 
1873, perhaps not since Black Friday. The industrial prospects 
had also brightened, and, last of all, trade rises in volume under 
the stimulus of manufacturing demands, wider markets, and bet 
ter prices. 1894 will be known as a panic year ; 1895 will mark 
the turning of the tide from depression toward prosperity, abso 
lute as well as comparative. The recovery has been slow, and at 


the same time rapid. There were evidences of better things a 
year ago ; but six long weary years were needed to recover from 
the consequences of 1873. To the approaching change the for 
eign commerce of the country bears witness. 

The imports of merchandise for the twelve months ending 
June 30, 1895, were $731,960,319; those for the preceding year 
were $654,994,622. There was an increase of $76,965,697, or 
11.7 per cent. This increased import lay entirely in the dutiable 
merchandise; $368,729,392 in 1895, and $275,199,086 in 1894. 
The imports of merchandise free of duty differed in the two years 
by about $16,000,000. The transfer of sugar from the free to 
the dutiable side in great part accounts for this difference ; but 
the certainty of duties in 1895 has encouraged imports, while the 
uncertainty in 1894 was an effectual discouragement. In 1894 
the exports of domestic merchandise were valued at $869,204,937 ; 
in 1895, $793,553,018. The loss on domestic exports was $75,- 
651,919, or nearly the same amount as was gained in the imports. 
Including exports of foreign merchandise, the total trade of 1895 
was $1,539,653,580, or $8,000,000 less than the total commerce of 
1894. The very large excess of exports over imports which was 
shown at the end of 1894, $237,145,950, was not repeated, for 
the excess of exports in 1895 was only $75,732,942. It was re 
markable that the trade conditions of 1894 did not lead to im 
ports of gold in settlement of the apparent balance in favor of 
this country ; and it is hardly likely that the smaller exports of 
1895 can be an important factor in determining the commercial 
movement of gold against the very much larger influence ex 
erted by the transfer of American securities. 

Less food was imported in 1895 than in 1894, more raw 
materials for domestic industries, more partly manufactured 
articles, and more manufactures for consumption. Allowing for 
the disturbance due to the tariff contest, this showing may be 
taken as evidence of a rising industrial movement, and no more 
general index of economic condition can be found. 

The movement of gold has been remarkable. The exports 
for the twelve months were $66,131,183, and were made in the 
first seven months July to February. The imports were $35,- 
120,331, making a net export of $31,000,000. This loss of gold 
would have been much greater had it not been for the operations 
of the syndicate. In the face of high rates of exchange and 


a natural tendency for gold to leave the country in the spring 
and summer months, little gold has been sent abroad, the Treas 
ury has maintained the reserve, and, now that the crops will 
come forward, the danger of a recurrence of a rush for gold is 
believed to be reduced to a minimum. 

The time was when the farmers of the United States were the 
great feeders of grain and suppliers of fine cotton of the world. 
Other peoples have developed in competing capacity in grain and 
meats, and at no time has their ability been so great as at pres 
ent. It was Russia and British India that were feared as com 
petitors ; it is now the Argentine Republic, which appears to 
have an almost unlimited power to grow and export wheat in 
defiance of any competition. The agrarian policies of European 
nations have also militated against American breadstuffs and pro 
visions, as well by encouraging home production as by discourag 
ing, even prohibiting, imports from the United States. No class 
of articles has been so materially influenced by the fall in prices. 
As early as 1885 wheat had fallen below the dollar mark, and 
only in 1892 did it rise above it. But the export price of 1894, 
67 cents, was unusual, and the still lower average of 1895, 57 
cents, was demoralizing. Corn, in which no competition is felt, 
was steadier in price , but the other breadstuffs were lower, and 
the result in the aggregate is startling. The value of the bread- 
stuffs exported in 1895 was about $115,000,000 ; and to find so 
low a figure one must go back to 1877. A comparison of quan 
tities will show how fallacious is such a test. 

1877. 1895. 

Barley 1,186,129 bush. 1,556,715 bush. 

Corn.. 70,861,000 " 25,507.753 " 

Oats 2,854,1*8 " 540,975 " 

Rye 2,189,322 " 8,879 " 

Wheat 40,325,611 " 75,831,639 " 

Flour 3,343,665 bbi. 14,942,647 bU. 

It is wheat and wheat flour that have maintained the export, 
though due allowance should be made for the deficient crop of 
1876, which was smaller than any in the last twenty-one years. 
Only 20 per cent, of that crop was exported, and 40 per cent, of 
the crop of 1893 was thus available. The distribution of exports 
in 1895 was normal, the few large differences being accounted 
for by good home crops, making a foreign supply unnecessary. 

Next in importance stand provisions: meats and meat prod 
ucts, and dairy products. The total value of exports in 1895 


was not very different from that of 1894, seven or eight per cent, 
less on $145,270,000. All beef and its products show an increase 
over 1894, tallow alone excepted, which has been influenced by 
the competition of Australia. Not in twenty years was the quan 
tity of tallow exported so small as in 1895. Bacon, hams and 
lard have met with greater favor, and the quantity of hams has 
never been equalled in any previous year, for the export in 1895 
will exceed 105,000,000 pounds. It is in Europe this increase has 
found a market. Dairy products have declined in quantity as 
well as in value. 

The phenomenally low price of raw cotton has tempted heavy 
purchases from abroad. If the crop year be taken, the exports 
in the ten months ending June 30, 1895, were 3,427,845,710 
pounds, against 2,566,982,921 pounds in the corresponding period 
of 1894. Nearly 900,000,000 pounds more were sold in 1895 than 
in the preceding year, and netted $3,400,000 less. The distribu 
tion of this increased quantity may be taken as a fair indication 
of the industrial countries which have felt the approach of better 
demand for the manufactured goods. England naturally stands 
first, taking 700,000,000 pounds more in 1895 than in 1894 ; Ger 
many, France, and Italy will use 450,000,000 pounds in excess of 
last year ; and even greater needs are indicated by the increased 
exports to Mexico and Canada. One other country, the youngest 
among nations and the youngest industrial power, will repay 
careful study if her demand for American cotton may be taken 
as an indication of growing competence. In the year 1894, less 
than 5,000,000 pounds were exported to Japan ; in the year 1895, 
the export was more than 11,000,000 pounds. This is the more 
remarkable as Japan has British India and China as sources of 
supply, and is known to draw heavily from them. This need for 
our cotton points to positive development on the best lines of 
manufacture. It is only five years ago that the United States 
sent cotton cloth to Japan. Now Japan asks for raw cotton, 
defeats British Indian competition in yarns, and threatens 
English cloth with exclusion from the continent of Asia. Amer 
ican cloth, by its low price and good quality, still finds favor in 
the East. China, through her troubles, has imported less in 1895 
than in 1894 by about 17,000,000 yards ; but other parts of Asia 
and Oceanica made good 5,000,000 yards, and in South America 
the market is increasing, save in the Argentine Kepublic. To 


Brazil the exports have never been so large, in spite of the abro 
gation of the reciprocity agreement ; while Colombia, which did 
not enter into the agreement and in consequence had its coffee, 
hides and skins subjected to a duty on entering the United 
States, has again reverted to American cottons and surpasses the 
demand in any previous year. Against these signs of advance 
must be set a loss of two-thirds, or more than 10,000,000 yards, 
in the Canadian market due rather to bad times than to the 
home industries of that colony. 

American cotton is sold in competition with the cotton of the 
East and Egypt, but so far surpasses in quantity, and, in the 
case of India, in quality, that it holds its own. In neither country 
is the power of the State exerted to encourage the planting and 
push the sale. Russian petroleum is a more aggressive and dan 
gerous rival to the American oil, and has succeeded, by treaty 
provision, in almost excluding the illuminating oil of the United 
States from certain markets. Neighborhood, and a large yield 
of heavy oils, have contributed in part to this result ; but tariffs 
and prejudice are more potent influences, and are able even to 
overcome differences in price, quality and packing in favor of the 
American product. The rise in the price of illuminating oil 
during 1895 has given better returns to exporters than in any 
year since 1891, but the quantity was exceeded in 1894. Severe 
as the struggle for markets has been, the produce of the United 
States has been successful, and the exports of 1895 885,000,000 
gallons are only 13,000,000 less than the exports of the banner 
year, 1894. The increase was in Europe, and great as that has 
been it was not sufficient to compensate for the losses in the East. 

If any single item among the imports fixes the attention, it is 
raw wool. This one article has been the subject of more political 
discussion and economic experiment than any other to be found 
in the list of imports or of domestic exports. Indeed, it has 
only occasionally figured to any importance as an article of ex 
port. It has been a source of pride that American wool has been 
used in the home market, and every safeguard taken to prevent 
its passing into foreign hands. At the outbreak of the civil war raw 
wool was being exported to the amount of about 1,000, 000 pounds 
each year, but in only one year (1886) did the quantity again 
attain or exceed that limit. If 300,000 pounds were sent away 
in one year, the quantity would be considered a large one, and 


the return of 1894, 477,182 pounds, was abnormal. In 1895 the 
number of pounds exported was more than double the export of 
any previous year, and exceeded 4,000,000 pounds. The details 
are not so encouraging, for this quantity was mainly divided 
between Mexico not a manufacturing country and Canada, 
where a woollen industry does exist. 

The success or failure of the experiment of free wool is yet to 
be determined. Since September the wools of the world have 
had free access to our markets for the first time since 1857, and 
the quantity imported shows the privilege is being extensively 
used, but it would be difficult to prove the imports excessive. In 
1894 the uncertainties of what the issue of the tariff struggle 
would be nearly cut off importations of wool. In the previous 
year, 1893, when the movement was unhampered by any such 
uncertainty, the total imports were 172,433,838 pounds, of which 
122,386,072 pounds were of the low grade carpet wools, not pro 
duced in the United States in quantities sufficient to meet the 
wants of the manufacturers. In eleven mouths of 1895 the im 
ports exceeded those of the year 1893, and the full year 1895 will 
give a total of about 200,000,000 pounds. This increase is no more 
than occurred between 1892 and 1893, and, representing two years, 
cannot be regarded as unusual. What is noticeable is the in 
crease in the finer grades the clothing wools. In previous years 
an import of between 50 and 60 million pounds would be taken as 
a fair amount; in 1895 the quantity will be more than 90,000,000 
pounds, or nearly one-half the entire wool importations. These 
larger importations of raw wools have been accompanied by 
smaller importations of woollen manufactures. 

Prices of wools, both domestic and foreign, have ruled low, 
very low, and in adapting the home-growing interest to the new 
conditions introduced by the removal of the duty, some heavy 
losses were entailed. The sale of American sheep abroad has 
fluctuated widely. In 1883 the number was 337,251, and year 
by year the number lessened, until only 37,260 were exported in 
1893. In 1895 the export of 1883 was slightly exceeded, but a 
few thousand in excess need create no apprehension, as proof of 
an unprofitable industry. The situation of wool is peculiar in 
every producing country, and enormous as the increased product 
has been, it is doubtful if any check will be felt on a still greater 
increase. In Australia the ranchmen are successfully overcom- 


ing one of the most serious obstacles to the extension of sheep 
raising, by sinking artesian wells and making pools or dams to 
retain the water for their stock. The great London dealers in 
wools, Messrs. Helmuth, Schwartz & Co., give a suggestive com 
parison in the wool production in 1884 and in 1893. 

1884. 1893. 

Pounds. Pounds. 

England 132,000,000 151,000,000 

Continent of Europe 450,000,000 450,000,000 

North America 350,000,000 377,000,000 

932.000,000 978,000,000 

Australia 408,000,000 632,000,000 

Africa (Cape) 52,000,000 91,000,000 

RiverPlate 322,000,000 365,000,000 

Other 106,000,000 164,000,000 

888,000,000 1,252,000,000 
Total 1,820,000,000 2,230,000,000 

The increased product for the first group was 5 per cent. ; 
for the second group 40.9 per cent. ; and for both groups 22.6 
per cent. While the populations of these countries have in 
creased in the same time only 9.5 per cent., the yield of clean 
wool has increased 19.4 per cent. * This in itself should explain 
the low prices of wool, and in such matters an economic is more 
permanent than a political cause. 

The movement in iron and steel also is looked upon as a fair 
measure of the industrial situation at home, and the same 
measure may be applied to the import and export trade. In 
1882 the heaviest imports of iron and steel and manufactures 
were made, $70,551,497. Since that year the value has declined, 
and in 1894 was only $20,559,368 the lowest record since the 
end of the depression of 1873-79. In 1882 the exports of iron 
and steel and manufactures were valued at $20,748,206 an 
amount exceeded only in the single year 1871. In 1894 the ex 
ports were $30,106,48.2 a figure never touched before and in 
1895 this aggregate is surpassed by more than a million. Through 
the long list of articles included in this class of manufactures 
only a few show diminished exports ; the losses on pig iron, band 
iron, cutlery, stationary engines and boilers, plate iron, printing 
presses, railroad bars and sewing machines, are more than com 
pensated by the additions on wire, stoves, firearms and bar iron. 
Brazil is equipping her railroads with American engines ; and if 
the Argentine Republic buys fewer locomotives of the United 
States, it takes more cars and more agricultural implements, 

"Statistics given by Messrs. Justice, Bateman & Co. 

VOL. CLXI. xo. 465. 13 


both of which may widen the wheat area of that Republic and 
enable it to compete to an even greater extent with the wheat 
grower of the West. 

The exports of copper ingots in 1894 greatly exceeded those 
of any previous year, and were in great part caused by its de 
mand in electrical appliances. The movement in 1895 was less 
by nearly one- third though the price was sufficiently low to 
warrant an increased consumption. Before 1894 the largest ex 
port was 56,453,756 pounds sent chiefly to Europe in 1892; and 
an export of 146,000,000 in 1895 is not one to give occasion to 
any fears that copper of the United States can not hold its own 
against the products of Chili and Spain. The exports of copper 
ore have been declining for some years, and in 1895 barely one- 
fifth the quantity of 1892 will be sent to the only consumer 
England. That country obtains large quantities of ore from 
Venezuela, Spain, Cape of Good Hope and even Newfoundland. 
France also imports the ore from Chili and in an indirect trade 
through England. 

Such are some of the leading elements in the foreign trade of 
1895. It would be interesting to discuss them from the revenue 
standpoint, and show where the $20,000,000 larger customs 
revenue was obtained, and how, through the fall in the price of 
sugar, the revenue was not greater. The West India Islands, 
whence the great supply of sugar is derived, are well known to 
be in a condition of decline, politically as well as economically. 
The market for sugar in the United States has been their main 
prop, and it could remain a support only while the prices paid 
for raw sugar covered the cost of production. It has been 
asserted for years that sugar could not profitably be grown under 
two cents a pound ; and for more than six months and at the 
very time the cane sugar campaign is on, the price has been 
given at 1.7 cents for cane and 1.5 cents for beet. The political 
features of sugar need not detain us, however interesting it 
would be to speculate upon a continuance of the current low 
prices, and their effects upon the West Indies, Louisiana, and 
that complicated structure of bounty-fed beet sugar interest in 
Europe. So long as the consumers of the United States get 
their sugar cheap, it will be as well to leave the struggle between 
cane and beet products to the wisdom of other peoples. This is, 
indeed, necessary, because of the revenue from sugar. 


It would be even more interesting to map out the great 
geographical lines of American commerce, and study the polit 
ical consequences with a special reference to the American conti 
nent. The largest share of our trade is still with European 
countries, and must be for many years; but the commercial 
relations with our neighbors are capable of great development, 
and a commercial supremacy would involve other relations of 
high importance in the near future. With 1894 as a year of 
comparison, the imports in 1895 had increased from Europe, 
South America, Asia and Africa, and decreased from Canada and 
the West Indies, and Oceanica. A greater value of exports was 
sent to South America, Oceanica and Africa, while a less value 
went to Europe, Canada, the West Indies and Asia. The de 
pression in Canada has been more severe than in the United 
States, and the war in Asia has had its effect on trade. 

The experience of 1894 in foreign trade was trying to an 
extreme; that of 1895 has done much to repair losses, and more 
to prove how firmly are established the great branches of our 
trade. Sharp and concentrated as was the crisis of 1894, it was 
better to have an explosion and a ready recovery, than a long and 
lingering decline, followed by a sudden access of speculation and 
extravagant trading, ending as it always must end, in disaster. 




THE editor asks me, What will be the policy of the Unionist 
administration, supposing it to obtain legislative power? We 
may begin the answer to the question by setting aside some mat 
ters as certain not to be touched, in spite of the expectations of 
some in the electorate that they will be dealt with. It may 
safely be asserted that there will be no return to protection, that 
there will be no steps 'taken in the direction of bimetallism, and 
that nothing will be done for Church schools. The two former 
of these propositions will be at once accepted by competent 
judges. There may be doubt about the third. The archbishops 
and bishops of the Established Church, and the friends of volun 
tary schools, which are mainly Church schools, have been active 
lately, and although cold water has been poured upon them by 
Lord Salisbury, they undoubtedly expect that some, at all events, 
of their demands will be acceded to. On the other hand, the 
accession to office of Mr. Chamberlain and his friends will form 
so convenient an excuse to the Conservative party for not enter 
ing upon legislation which is never popular with the constituen 
cies, that I maintain the opinion which I long since formed and 
have just expressed. 

Leaving the negative and coming to the positive side of the 
programme, it may safely be foreshadowed that labor questions 
will be dealt with in a comprehensive, though not perhaps in a 
satisfactory nor a scientific, fashion. The Factory Bill of Mr. 
Asquith will probably be taken by his successors without much 
change, and this popular measure will probably become law in 
much the shape in which it was introduced by the Liberal admin 
istration. Mr. Asquith's Truck Bill will probably have the same 
fortune, but this bill will be hotly opposed by the Trades 


Unionists, as it would have been even if it had gone forward 
under the auspices of the Liberal administration. It may be ex 
plained that " Truck " in its original sense meant the payment 
of wages otherwise than in cash, and that the early Truck legis 
lation was directed against the practice which formerly prevailed 
widely of forcing workmen to deal at certain shops and pay too 
dear for their goods, and against kindred evils. Outside the 
ordinary range of the existing Truck acts lies a whole class of 
fines and deductions, which constitute a working-class grievance 
of the first magnitude. Stoppages are made from wages for all 
sorts of reasons, and in some cases ill-paid workers, such as girl 
factory hands, receive in cash only a small proportion of their 
nominal wage. Fines for coming late in the morning are an ex 
ample of what is meant. These fines are far larger in amount 
than seems necessary for the purpose of securing punctuality of 
attendance, and the amount deducted for a short absence is vastly 
greater than the wage which could be earned in the time. Mr. 
Asquith's Truck Bill proposed that deductions should be illegal, 
except where assented to in writing by the worker, and, on being 
attacked, pronounced reasonable by a court. The former of these 
two provisions so closely resembles the contracting-out which was 
recently objected to by the Liberal party in the Employers' 
Liability Bill, when introduced into it by the House of Lords, 
that it slinks in the nostrils of the trades unionists. Contract 
ing-out is a fruitful source of inefficiency in legislation. Excel 
lent principles are laid down, but contracting-out is allowed, 
becomes a standing form, and makes the legislation nugatory. 

Another bill left by the late government which a Unionist 
government may take up is Mr. Asquith's Coal Mines Regula- 
tion Bill, which is also far from popular with the working class, 
but into which an attempt may be made to insert a clause limit 
ing the labor in mines of boys under a certain age. The Miners' 
Federation will undoubtedly fail in attempting to limit employ 
ment underground before twenty-one, and will probably fail in 
attempting to limit employment under eighteen, but is not un 
likely to be successful in limiting employment under sixteen. 
The importance of this question lies in the fact that it is the 
difficulty about the boys which causes the resistance of Northum 
berland and Durham to legislation for the purpose of regulating 
hours in mines of adult men. If the labor of boys in mines were 


limited to eight hours in any twenty-four, the practical objection 
of the Northumberland and Durham miners to the introduction 
of a similar limit to the labor of men would disappear, inasmuch as 
the men in Northumberland and Durham have no personal interest 
in the question, for they in all cases work considerably less than 
eight hours at the present time. Their boys, however, work 
longer; and it is commonly asserted in Northumberland and Dur 
ham that it is impossible to change the system under which two 
shifts of men work with one shift of boys, or three shifts of men 
with two shifts of boys. It is the opinion of the other miners that 
means for meeting the difficulty might easily be found. 

Mr. Bryce's bill for the introduction of a new system of con 
ciliation in trades disputes is not likely to be taken up by the Con 
servative party in its present form, but it is probable that some 
attempt will be made to deal with the subject by legislation which 
will probably be popular, and also, probably, prove useless. It is 
a thankless task to object to any scheme for arbitration or concilia 
tion from which good is hoped ; but experienced trades unionists 
are inclined to think that such legislation, if ambitious, is likely 
to be dangerous. The pressure of public opinion would be brought 
to bear to induce the parties to an industrial conflict to accept any 
arrangement that might have been made for them ; but public 
opinion is represented by the press, and the press, in order to live, 
is forced to incline towards the side of wealth. The trades 
unionists think that well-organized industries are able to look after 
themselves, and that in others the workers must go to the wall, and 
that it is unnecessary to consecrate the system which may cover 
this result. 

Of bills which have not been introduced and are not remanets 
from the Liberals, but which have been foreshadowed by Mr. 
Chamberlain and accepted by Lord Salisbury in speeches in 
the country, the chief are a Workmen's Compensation Bill, a bill 
for the allocation of local rates to the purchase of workmen s 
houses, and an old-age pension scheme. It is difficult at present 
to say much about this last as no very definite proposals have 
been made on behalf of the Unionist party, except by Mr. Cham 
berlain, and his proposals have not secured general acceptance. 
The difficulties of detail are very great. There is no definite 
recommendation by any committee or commission before the coun 
try, and it is far from certain that any proposals which might be 


placed before Parliament would receive wide support. The other 
two proposals for legislation are more ripe. Mr. Chamberlain in 
opposing the Employers' Liability Bill of Mr. Asquith suggested a 
general bill for compensation in case of all injuries, and he has re 
cently introduced a bill which has met with a somewhat favorable 
reception, although the objection has been urged that it does not 
provide for employers' liability for accidents by penal provisions. 
The proposal for the allocation of rates to the purchase of work 
men's houses came from a Conservative quarter. It has 
been accepted by Mr. Chamberlain, who pleaded in its 
behalf the analogy of the allotments legislation. Allotments, 
however, do not become the freehold of the holder, and 
the freehold remains in the local authority which makes 
the advance. The proposal for assistance from rates to work 
men to buy their houses contemplates the freehold being the 
possession of the workmen, and not of the local authority. On 
this ground the legislation will be strongly fought by many be 
longing to the more advanced parties ; but it will pass. 

It is very probable that the incoming Unionist administration 
may go forward with an Irish land bill, which would contain 
the portions of the Irish land bill of Mr. Morley which 
have the support of Mr. T. TV. Kussell, and that they may intro 
duce an Irish local government bill. The latter measure, how 
ever, will have to be one giving to Ireland most of the municipal 
and local liberties which are possessed by Great Britain, and one 
far more advanced than Mr. Balfour's ill-starred bill of the last 
Parliament, if it is to have any chance of passing without a vio 
lent conflict. It is also possible that the Unionists may try their 
hands at temperance legislation. The local vote might be called 
in for the purpose of diminishing the number of public houses, 
with a compensation to be borne by the survivors. 

The outgoing Liberal administration had not carried a 
strongly reforming policy into Indian, foreign, colonial, or mili 
tary affairs, and there is no ground to suppose that the change 
of administration will imply a change of policy in these respects. 
A considerable improvement in the War Office had indeed been 
announced by the outgoing government on the night of its 
defeat, and there can be little doubt that the proposals then 
made will be adhered to by the incoming administration. 




ONE of the greatest questions of the day, it is admitted by all, 
is the social question, and its most illustrious exponent is, without 
doubt, the august Pontiff of the Vatican. Ever since his assump 
tion of the tiara Leo XIII. has manifested a special interest in all 
problems relating to the welfare of society. This is abundantly 
evinced by his noble encyclicals on these topics, and by his num 
berless letters to eminent representatives of church and state. 

In a private audience, with which I was favored not long 
since, the social question was introduced and discussed at some 
length. I ventured to tell his Holiness that the editor of the 
NORTH AMERICAN KEVIEW had requested me to write an 
article on this subject, and that the people of America, non-Catho 
lics as well as Catholics, .were always pleased to give respectful and 
reverent attention to his utterances, and especially to all those in 
any wise bearing on the condition of the laboring classes. 

" Ah, yes," he said, " the Americans are a noble people. I 
love them greatly. I am aware of the deep interest they take in 
social problems and was gratified to learn that they received so 
kindly my encyclical on the condition of labor. You may tell 
the people of the United States, through the NORTH AMERICAN- 
REVIEW, that I shall always be ready to contribute to the fullest 
extent of my power towards their well-being and happiness, and 
especially towards the well-being and happiness of the wage- 
earners of their great republic. 

" The social question," continued the venerable Pontiff, his 
eyes beaming with light and intelligence as he discoursed on the 
subject to which he attaches so much importance ' ' the social 
question is the great question of the future. La question sociale, 
c'est la question de Vavenir. It is a question in which all should 


be interested, and each one should contribute his quota towards 
lessening and removing the difficulties with which it is at present 
beset. It is particularly desirable that ecclesiastics should be 
thoroughly conversant with the subject, and that they should 
take an active part in every discussion and in every movement 
that looks toward the betterment of the social condition of 
humanity, and especially the social condition of that major por 
tion which must earn their bread by the sweat of their brow/' 

This is but a brief synopsis of what the Holy Father actually 
said, and conveys no idea whatever of the earnestness and impres- 
siveness which characterized the spoken words of the large- 
hearted and noble-minded occupant of the chair of Peter. He 
dwelt particularly on his encyclicals Immortale Dei and Rerum 
Novarum, and referred incidentally to other documents, bearing 
on the same subjects, of which he is the author. 

The encyclical Longinqua Oceani Spatia, recently issued, is, 
in a measure, but a supplement of the Rerum Novarum. I shall 
consider the two documents, therefore, in so far as they both deal 
with the social problem, as virtually one and the same. 

So much by way of preamble. The following pages are de 
signed to give a brief exposition of the origin, character and his 
tory of the social question from the Roman Catholic point of 
view, and to exhibit the gist of the Pope's teaching, as gathered 
from his letters and encyclicals on this all-important subject. 


A LITTLE more than a century ago, in 1791, the French Revo 
lution abolished by a third and definitive decree the corporations 
which formed the basis of the old social order. In 1891, Leo 
XIII. promulgated a new economic charter, at the very moment 
when the industrial association, which was the outgrowth of the 
Manchester School, was approaching dissolution. 

In lieu of the old organic regime the French Revolution sub 
stituted the reign of individualism. Unlimited competition, 
freedom of labor, the preponderance of capital and the general 
introduction of machinery ushered into existence the fourth es 
tate proletarians, or wage-earners and with it the social ques 
tion. The organism became a mechanism, and from its excesses 
proceeded the evils from which we now suffer. As matters at 
present stand, we have two inimical forces, standing face to face ; 


on one side, the modern state with its army and its police ; on the 
other, socialism and organized labor with its battalions and its long 
pent-up grievances. 

Never before was humanity confronted with such a danger. It 
is related that when Antioch was taken by the Persians, A. D. 
266, the entire population of the city was assembled in the 
theatre. The seats of this theatre were cut in the foot of the 
escarped mountain which crowned the ramparts. The eyes of all 
present were fixed on the chief actor ; every ear was strained to 
catch his words, when suddenly his hands began to contract, his 
arms became paralyzed, and his eyes assumed a startling stare. 
From the stage on which he stood he beheld the Persians, already 
masters of the defences of the ill-fated city, rushing down the 
mountain with resistless impetuosity. At the same moment the 
enemy's arrows began to shower down within the precincts of the 
theatre, and to awaken its inmates to a realization of their peril 
ous situation. 

Is not our situation analagous ? Have we not felt the earth 
tremble under our feet, and heard the social revolution, as Las- 
salle predicted it would, knock at our doors ? And what aug 
ments the danger, is that the International seems decided on the 
policy of delay, until the natural pressure of our social condi 
tion shall place the reins of power in the hands of the " new 
masters." 1848 and 1870 appear to have been the last attempts 
of the Fourth Estate to achieve victory by force of arms. Its 
leaders are unwilling to commit new blunders, and are persuaded 
that the day will come when socialism will be triumphant. 

Leo XIII. chose this prophetic hour to make known the social 
evangel to the combatants on both sides. Among the wrecks of 
human institutions, the Papacy remains the sole international 
power, sufficiently equipped, sufficiently sure of its own resources, 
sufficiently endowed with light and energy, to attempt the 
supreme work. It, alone, has imperturbable faith in the future of 
humanity. It is idealist, in spite of all deceptions ; optimist, not 
withstanding all the spasmodic weaknesses of the body politic. As 
in the politico-religious order, Leo XIII. has, through his encyc 
lical, Immortale Dei, preached the code of reconciliation, so has 
he, in the economic order, promulgated the charter of social har 
mony. We recognize in the earnest, but tender words of the 
Pontiff, the divine perfume of the Master, the precise lessons of 


the Fathers of the Church, and the carefully pondered and the 
soundly democratic teachings of the Doctors of the Middle Ages. 
For the first time, economic science has pity on the wage-earner, 
and discusses the new issues raised without rancor or recrimina 
tion. At the same time it exhibits a respect for the rights of all 
while insisting on the duties of all, which will forever render the 
encyclical, Rerum Novarum, not only the most glorious monu 
ment of the present pontificate, but also the most beneficent con 
tribution yet made to the new order of things. In the Church 
alone is there a condition of stable equilibrium, which always re 
mains unaffected. The personal character of the encyclical 
resides, not so much in the lessons of justice and charity as in 
the perfect adaptation of revealed truth to our present condition, 
and in the beautiful and fruitful manner in which the facts of 
history are harmonized with eternal principles. 

Leo XIII. is at the same time as compassionate as a mother 
and as impassible as an anatomist ; as just as a judge and as 
tender as an infant. He loves ardently that poor humanity which 
is so often blind to its best interests, but which is more frequently 
betrayed by its own leaders. In him the Papacy appears, even 
to-day, as the empyrean in which all hatreds and struggles are 
buried and in which all great reconciliations are effected. In 
deed the most distinguishing characteristic of the encyclical is 
that it seeks to harmonize capital and labor, to reconcile employer 
with employee, to unite justice and charity. 

The first part of the encyclical shows that the accord be 
tween labor and capital is one of the most beautiful and most 
consoling laws of political economy. As God, in the book of 
Job, "makes peace in the high places," so does Leo XIII., from 
the lofty eminence which he occupies, bring to men the peace- 
giving breath of the Infinite. 

This equilibrium has its origin in the Pope's comprehensive 
genius. Leo XIII. knows not that exclusivism which divides 
the social order into separate compartments. His breadth of view 
and love of humanity preclude this. His keen intellect has 
grappled firmly with all the difficulties of the situation. Econo 
mists too often separate what should ever be united. One 
expects everything from the state, another looks for a cure only 
from above, while others still appeal for a solution of the problem 
to special associations or to private initiative. But Leo XIII. 


embraces all these factors, and causes every one of them to make 
for the common weal. The Church, the State, individual 
activities, society as a whole, should not they be prodigal of their 
best efforts in helping forward the work of reconciliation ? 

It is this harmony and breadth of view which give to the en 
cyclical the character of arbitrament which it possesses, and 
make it, as it were, a kind of truce of God. Hence spring the 
facility with which the Pontiff steers clear of the quicksands of 
this vast world. And with what dangers is he not beset ? In 
trinsic difficulties, technical difficulties, complexity of subject, a 
continual transformation of political economy, which scarcely per 
mits one to promulgate doctrines and principles, antagonistic pas 
sions and rivalries Leo XIII. has met all these obstacles. 

Thanks to his marvellous competence and his profound knowl 
edge of the subject-matter of debate ; his consummate art in sep 
arating theories from facts, and principles from remedies, Leo 
XIII. has avoided these reefs. He is at the same time a doctor 
and a practical man of affairs ; an illuminator and a conciliator ; 
resting here on the Gospel and St. Thomas Aquinas, and there 
seeking aid in the immense modern laboratory, where are found 
both men and hypotheses. 

Such are the distinguishing notes of the encyclical ; its op 
portuneness, its evangelical character, its irenical harmony, 
its perfect comprehensiveness. These are combined with scien 
tific precision and an incomparable simplicity of art, in which 
supreme elegance and exact science unite in sweetest symphony. 


WHAT, it may be asked, has occurred in society, that special 
exertion is now required to keep in motion a machine which 
formerly moved of itself without noise and without effort ? In 
what" does this much-talked-of social question consist ? All 
are making the same inquiry, but the responses given are as di 
verse as the prescriptions of physicians. More than ever before 
the world is brought to face seriously the social question. For 
merly certain minor social questions perturbed humanity, but the 
crisis which now confronts us is peculiar to our own epoch. 

It is only the foolish hope of interested optimists which will 
lead men to believe that they are sheltered from the impending 
catastrophe, because, forsooth, the same endemic malady has be- 


fore raged in all countries and at all times. It is, indeed, true 
that social antagonism is not something new or something 
peculiar to our century. But there is between the past and the 
present this essential difference. Formerly, after the struggle be 
tween employer and employee was over, rest and peace were to 
be found in the workshop or in the home, whereas to-day the 
struggle has reached our very hearthstones. It persists in a dull 
and sullen manner, when it does not break forth openly, and it 
is ever compassing the ruin of society because it is incessantly 
destroying all chance of domestic happiness. Never before, in 
deed, has the social question knockei in so threatening a manner 
at the doors of the civil order. 

In the introduction to his epo ,h-making document, Leo XIII. 
directs attention to some of the evidences of the dominant evil 
extreme riches, extreme misery, and the indescribable desolation 
which has entered the world of the proletariate in consequence 
of the atomization of society under the levelling reign of capital. 

Gifted with a methodical mind and endowed with a rare 
genius for classification, the Pope limits himself to indicating the 
roots of the evil, without entering into details, or descending to 
investigations of secondary importance. 

It may truly be said that the social question arises from a five 
fold revolution : the revolution in machinery ; the revolution in 
political economy ; the revolution in religion ; the revolution in 
the state, and the revolution brought about by the general move 
ment of humanity. 

Machinery, or rather the abuse of machinery, was the first to 
effect a transformation in the economic order. It is not without 
reason that Lassalle styles it "the revolution incarnate" Die 
verkorperte Revolution. Machinery has revolutionized the mode 
of production, the manner of labor, and the distribution of 
revenue and of property. It has destroyed the workshop and in 
troduced the factory in its stead. It has sterilized manual labor 
and, by its immense productivity, has internationalized prices 
and markets. While, on the one hand, it has created the des 
potism of capital, it has, on the other, called into existence the 
unorganized army of the proletariate. It has ground humanity 
into a powder, without cohesion and without unity, and has 
placed the world of labor at the mercy of a few soulless pluto 
crats. This new order of things means the reign of the few ; it 


implies the permanence of expropriation and the resurrection 
of ancient Home, where millions of slaves were trampled under 
foot by an insolent oligarchy of wealth. And finally, by its fatal 
centralization, machinery has engendered a double International 
the International of capital and the International of socialism. 

Against such a condition of things there should have been 
erected some sort of protecting dike. But instead of creating a 
new order, in conformity with the changed mode of production, 
economic science introduced into the laws and institutions of 
the land those very principles which have rendered the influence 
of machinery sinister and destructive. Of an agency marvellously 
rich in its potentialities, it has made an engine of revolution. 
Production, production, nothing but production, such has been 
the ideal, the last word of the Third Estate and of economists. 
Adam Smith in England, J. B. Say in France, and Schulze- 
Delitsch in Germany, have traced out this new legislation, with a 
view to bringing out of machinery all its latent force, without 
ever thinking of the terrible confusion that was sure to ensue. 

Science and politics have leagued together to render the state 
omnipotent. How then could socialism regard with serenity a 
factor of such unquestioned power ? 

Absolute collectivism was born and received with acclamation 
in the comitia of the people before it was scientifically promul 
gated by Carl Marx. The sons of toil constitute the majority. 
Why are they not then the rulers ? 

Kiehl, before Sainte-Beuve, had drawn the portrait of the lit 
erary proletarian as the guide of the laboring proletarian. De 
classe and a conspirator, ambitious, jealous and vindictive, he 
finds a use for his knowledge in giving his services to the advance 
ment of revolutionary socialism. A German, Riehl spoke for the 
Germans. But have not his prognostications been everywhere 
verified ? You have supplied outcasts and the declassed with all 
modern arms education, universal suffrage, literature. You have 
awakened them to a consciousness of their power. You have 
taught them that law is the voice of the majority, that education 
is the stepping-stone by which they may attain to power. You 
have endowed them with sovereignty. You have made them leg 
islators and judges. Why, then, should not the masses rise up and 
announce to the Third Estate : We are the masters ? 

Politics and their historical environment created Lassalle and 


Carl Marx. Lassalle and Carl Marx created militant socialism 
and the International. 

" Liberalism," says Averbeck, " has acted as a state would act 
if it should banish a part of its citizens to a solitary island and 
let them there begin a struggle for existence. This state gives 
to the exiles all the treasures of science libraries and scientific 
apparatus but it withholds from them what is necessary for 
subsistence. It is to be presumed that such unfortunates will 
burn the books in order to warm themselves and break the in 
struments in order to make tools that will enable them to gain 
the necessities of life." The same writer was likewise one of the 
first to signalize the perils of this political and social contrast. 
To day the situation seems even more grave. For, has nt>t the 
International the same engines of war as the State ? Has it not 
to hand all the appliances requisite to start a revolution ? The 
stupefied Liberals persist in persecuting the Church, in weakening 
the ethical sense, and dancing on a volcano until everything shall 
be blown to atoms. 

Do we not read the signs of the times ? One would declare 
that everything conspires to crown the Fourth Estate. As far 
back as 1810 there were not wanting far-seeing synthetic minds, 
who foresaw that the reign of social democracy would issue in 
the natural and fatal termination of civilization. Philosophers 
and critics have expended an infinite amount of wit in their at 
tempts to give a definition of civilization, but no two have been 
able to agree on the same definition. The events of our day, 
however, make a definition unnecessary, for we have before our 
very eyes the most salient facts of all history past and present. 
For what is the evolution of humanity but its expansion and 
progressive exaltation ? 

All the theories of philosophers and all the preachments of 
exploiters are of no avail. We are moving toward a triumphant 
democracy. Whether the transformation of the aristocratic and 
bourgeois society into a democratic society be slow or prompt, 
violent or peaceful, it is none the less inevitable ; and more than 
this, none the less irrevocable, once it shall have been effected. 

There are several reasons in explanation of the difficulty of 
a return. All men are not sensible of the exalted charm of 
liberty, and freedom is not an imperative need for a large num 
ber of men. But the sweetness of equality appeals strongly to 


the most feeble intelligences, and men are slow to renounce this 
pleasure when they have once tasted it. Besides this, the laws 
and customs of a democratic society are in accord with certain 
ideas of right and justice, and they find in the conscience as well 
as in the passions of men a powerful support. 

What intensity marks this movement ! What a formidable 
support for the Fourth Estate ! And how singular the coincidence 
of this general current with the present economic crisis. Sieyes 
wrote : " What is the Third Estate ? Nothing. What ought it 
to be ? Everything. " Is it astonishing that the chiefs of the 
International apply these words to the Fourth Estate ? 

We have briefly considered the five confluents which consti 
tute the river of the social question. Never has a more compli 
cated situation, or one more pregnant with peril, weighed upon 
men. What were the invasions of the barbarians from the north 
of Europe, or the upheavals of the fifteenth and eighteenth cen 
turies, in comparison with the threatened explosion of this vast 
world already stirred to its profoundest depths and in a state of 
violent ebullition ? 

Has not the time at length come when some one should speak 
in the name of all and above all ; when some one should take up 
the problem, not with the pedantry of party, nor with affected 
scholastic display, but with a keen and serene intellect which is 
competent to get at the heart of things without becoming entan 
gled, and is capable of taking a comprehensive survey of the situ 
ation without getting confused ? Is there not required one of 
those rare men with whom conscience in everything is a prime 
necessity and whose greatest pleasure and recompense lie in the 
laborious pursuk of good and in the absolute discharge of duty ? 

Such an one is Leo XIII. With that buoyant and indomi 
table spirit which has nerer known weakness, of which age has re 
spected the integrity, Leo XIIL, after having disentangled, ana 
lyzed and scrutinized all the elements of debate, has judged it 
necessary, not only as a man of science, but also as supreme 
teacher, to undertake the great work of synthesis and truth. 


SINCE issuing his famous encyclical, Rerum Novarum, of 
which Europe, poisoned by the School of Manchester and by the 
teachings of a materialistic philosophy, had greater need than 


young and prosperous America, Leo XIII. has developed his 
apostolic doctrine more in detail. This is observed especially in 
his letters to the Count de Mun, the Bishop of Grenoble, the 
Bishop of Liege, the Cardinal of Mechlin, as well as in his let 
ters to M. Decurtins, to Abbe Six, to Abbe Naudetand others. All 
these manifestations of the great Papal mind are bound together by 
the same golden thread. Go to the people to assist and emancipate 
them. Establish syndicates and associations for the laboring 
classes. Demand from the State legislation for their protection, 
and strive to secure the passage of a law, international in char 
acter, which shall protect at the same time both employer and 
employee from economic piracy. Restrict the hours of labor, and 
place women and children under proper protection. Give to the 
poor man a just remuneration for his work, and strive to make 
him ah upright and honorable citizen. Above all, see that religion 
is the inspiring and directing soul of the home, for without it the 
work of reconstruction and regeneration is impossible. 

That which, above all else, brings out in bold relief the solici 
tude of Leo XIII. for the laboring man is the injunction which 
he lays on, the mission which he commits to, the priests of the 
Church. He wishes them to go forth into the market-place, to 
visit the factories, to found societies for workingmen, to inaugu 
rate conferences for them, and thus to direct the large demo 
cratic and social current which is the result of long ages of effort, 
labor and sacrifice. To Americans, with their native activity 
and independence, this is easy and natural. It, however, de 
manded evangelical courage to impose this on the Old World, 
where three centuries of renaissance of pagan law, and a century 
of laissez-faire and laissez-passer have atomized society and 
divided the human family into two opposing camps on one side 
the tyranny of the law and of the employer; on the other, 
renewed servitude and virtual rebellion everywhere hatred, lack 
of equilibrium, egotism and overt struggle. 

One of the most striking characteristics of the Pope's teaching 
anent the labor problem is his return to the ideas of evangelical 
solidarity, to the lessons of social wisdom, and to the principles 
which governed the guilds of the middle ages all of which, with 
singular skill, he adapts to the needs and conditions of the cen 
tury just closing. Sometimes reactionaries, and even English 
Liberals, reproach the Pope with going too far and with favoring 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 14 


methods which are regarded as revolutionary. In the eyes of 
such people he is a Socialist. This revolutionist, however, but 
relights the almost extinguished torch of Christian tradi 
tions. He is simply continuing the spirit of the early ages of 
the Church. ' ' The day when there shall be placed in the chair 
of St. Peter," wrote de Vogue in his Spectacles Contemporains, 
"a Pope animated with the sentiments of Cardinal Gibbons and 
Cardinal Manning, the Church will stand forth before the world 
as the most formidable power it has ever known." So be it. Is 
not Leo XIII. such a Pontiff ? Fearlessly brushing aside three 
centuries of cabinet diplomacy, he declares his intention of fol 
lowing the traditions of those illustrious pontiffs who are honored 
in history as social law-givers and emancipators of the people. 
He synthesizes admirably the Gospel, St. John Chrysostom, St. 
Thomas, Gregory VII., Alexander IV., Pius IV., and many 
others besides. " The danger is imminent," wrote Madam Adam 
in her Patrie Bourgeoise, " for Leo XIII. is preparing a crusade 
which a younger Pope may render triumphant. The constitu 
tion of the Church and individual devotedness, which Christi 
anity, we must admit, is capable of exalting, in a far higher 
degree than the philosophy of Paul Bert, are calculated to pro 
voke one of those grand movements of moral reform which are 
always based on a social movement." Madam Adam forgets that 
it is not a crusade, but a return to the principles of economic 
and organic mutuality which obtained before the Renaissance, 
and an adaptation of them to the age in which we live. This is 
what Leo XIII. told Castelar, the Spanish Republican, in so 
many words. "It is necessary," said he, "to bring back the 
Church to its original traditions." In this declaration are re 
vealed at once the historic mind and the originality of Leo XIII. 
In it are disclosed his greatness and the unity and majestic co 
ordination of all his acts and all his teachings. 

Economically and socially, the Renaissance, the resurrection 
of pagan law, the cult of exaggerated individualism, the philoso 
phy which issued in Darwinism, have again brought back and 
made general both the pride and the slavery of ancient Rome. 
Absolute and pagan theories regarding property, exaltation of lib 
erty, which, while it is the honor of the human mind in the 
domain of politics, is folly in the domain of economic science, 
substitution of an artificial mechanism for the normal organism, 


rupture with industrial organizations and the atomization of 
society in a word, all the miseries of our modern world have 
proceeded from these sources. Our age is, indeed, but a walled- 
in field of battle, in which egotism, individual interests and pas 
sions are engaged in homicidal combat. Formerly society was an 
edifice, in which each social floor had its protection, its right, its 
security, its well-being. It was, to employ another figure, a vast 
organism, in which each member, while it was subject to the law 
governing the whole, had its proper function and its full life. 

It is this thought, eminently Christian and eminently evan 
gelic a thought reposing on justice and love which is the main 
spring of the social action of the Holy Father. Here, as else 
where, Leo XIII., while always having a regard for the times in 
which we live, supplies us with the traditional means of subsist 
ence and defence. A man of the past and of the future, con 
tinuing in his own beneficent way the policy of his illustrious 
predecessors, while at the same time paving the way for a better 
to-morrow without change of principles, but by the application 
of new methods the present Pontiff stands conspicuous in history 
as an innovator, while he is all the while but a priest of the an 
tique ideal, but an ideal appropriated for our own time. 

Besides the teachings of antiquity there are other guides 
nearer to us for pontifical initiative. A conservative power, the 
Papacy scarcely ever moves in advance of the political and social 
exigencies of an epoch. It does not create, it codifies. 

The Fathers have determined with precision this law of 
organic growth. Origen, Tertullian, St. Cyprian, St. Augus 
tine, and, above all, St. Vincent of Lerins, have developed the 
philosophy of this phenomenon. It is thus that they speak of 
a sensus theologicus, of an intelligentia ecclesiastica, of a sensus 
Catholicus, which are affirmed, expanded and translated in a 
body of doctrines, in eodem sensu et in eodem dogmate. 

In a lower degree, the Papacy appropriates and condenses the 
human teachings of each epoch in so far as they bear on the 
immutable principles of the evangelical and traditional deposit. 
In every direction in which the energies of the Church are em 
ployed, we remark a formal evolution of this institution which is 
in relation to the evolution of the ideas and the facts of the con 
temporary world. With the plastic power, which is par excellence 
the sign of her vitality, the Church adapts herself in our days to 


the service of societies formed outside of herself, and often 
opposed to her, as she adapted herself to the feudal system, to 
'the Renaissance, and to all the metamorphoses of its flock. Her 
work, sometimes, illudes the careless observer, because it goes on 
by processes which resemble the mysterious processes of growth 
and development in the higher organisms. Under the action 
of vital force all the atoms of our body are continually being 
changed and renewed, but our form and personality are in nowise 
modified thereby. It is in this sense that we must understand the 
renovation of the Church and the Papacy. 

The Church and the Papacy are never in a hurry. In every 
thing which does not concern eternity, in the domain of the 
contingent and the relative, her role is not to anticipate, but to 
regulate and to consecrate all the progress definitively made. 
Some thinkers urge, as an objection and as examples of unex- 
plainable variation, the misfortunes of certain bold spirits, who, 
in the past, were blamed for having maintained political and 
social doctrines which were subsequently cordially received by 
the Vatican. These innovators had started too soon. Political 
truths, essentially relative, do not become complete verities and 
acceptable to Rome save at the moment when they appear prac 
tical, or when the circumstances of time and place clearly evince 
that the fruit is ripe and may be gathered. In all that concerns 
herself, the Church is the sole judge of this moment. 

The encyclical on the condition of labor and other similar 
acts of Pope Leo XIII. are the official and permanent consecra 
tion of the labors and the teachings of the most devoted Catholics 
of this century in respect of the social question. 

The first one after Ozanam, or the Viscount de Melun, to 
make a deep impression on Rome in this matter, was Bishop 
Ketteler, of Mayence. It was in 1848, when socialism appro 
priated all the new economic currents, that he promulgated his 
social evangel. His sermons, preached in the Church of St. 
Paul, at Frankfort, at the time of the celebrated diet ; his confer 
ences with workingmen ; his book on " Christianity and Labor"; 
his discourses at Mayence ; all his acts as bishop and statesman 
had this ideal : Save, emancipate the Fourth Estate by the appli 
cation of the Gospel and the doctrines of St. Thomas to the eco 
nomic conditions of the day. 

A man of dauntless courage, comprehensive mind and noble 


heart, he was at the same time a Catholic Lassalle. At one time, 
even, Bismarck seriously thought of making him Archbishop of 
Cologne, and of undertaking with him the great work of social 
reconstruction. The Kulturkampf, which the Iron Chancellor 
inaugurated in order to placate the national liberals, to break the 
power of Kome and to divide France, rendered this grandiose pro 
ject illusory. Ketteler, however, did not abandon his plans. 
AVhile the storms raged above the German forests he gathered 
about him those gallant heroes: Vogelsang, Kuef stein, Schei- 
cher, Hitze, Joerge, Monfang, Schorlemer, Brandts, Bachem, and 
all that chosen band, who, even in our own day, with less 'dan and 
more timidity, it is true, continue to develop his ideas. At the 
Council of the Vatican, before the cannon of Sedan had startled 
Europe, the Bishop of Mayence hoped to secure official recognition 
of his programme, and thus bring the laboring world within the 
orbit of the Church. But this fondly cherished hope was not 
realized. "And to think" he complained to the Archbishop 
of Rouen " to think that we have not been able to utter that cry 
of love and sympathy to the outcasts of the century !" 

But the seed which he sowed germinated. On the morrow of 
this same war, a representative of France took up the idea 
which had its birth beyond the Rhine. Supported by the teach 
ings of Leplay and Perin, the Count de Mun, with the volcanic 
fire of his eloquence, continued the social crusade. He soon suc 
ceeded in rallying around himself such soldiers as La Tour du Pin, 
P. Pascal, M. Lorin, Abbe Noudet, Abbe Bataille, Abbe Six, M. 
Sabatier, and, above all, Cardinal Langenieux and M. Leon Har- 
mel, who led to the Pope the first workingmen's pilgrimage. 

At this same epoch, the Abbe Pettier, professor at Lige, in 
Belgium, discovered his vocation for social work. A priest and 
a theologian, he had a singular love for the poor, and was pos 
sessed of a judgment that was almost infallible. From the Gos 
pel he drew forth a whole body of social doctrine, and found a 
sanction for his apostolate in the highest fonts of Christianity. 
His programme is an irrefutable, economic codification of the doc 
trines of the Holy Fathers and of the Doctors of the Middle 
Ages. In spite of all the attacks which have been directed 
against it, it remains impregnable. Around him also have gath 
ered a zealous body of co-workers like the Kurths, the Levies, the 
de Harles, the Vetragens, and hosts of others. 


Then, again, there is M. Decurtens, a layman. A born dem 
ocrat, and a counsellor of the nation, he is as ardent an ultra 
montane as he is an imperturbable socialist. A leader of the labor 
ing classes and a man of broad culture, erudite, eloquent, and 
energetic, he is endowed with not only an incomparable capacity 
for work, but also with an incomparable power of will. 

He it was who effected in Switzerland the fusion of the labor 
organizations, Catholic and Protestant. He it was who induced 
his government to convoke an assembly of all the Estates in order 
to consider universal, social legislation a project which was frus 
trated by William II. It is he, too, who makes periodical pilgrim 
ages to the Vatican to engage the Holy Father to direct the social 
movement of our time. He has many rivals and imitators, but 
the noblest spirits of Helvetia are with him. 

Such, in brief, is the Latino-Germanic genesis, if I may so 
express myself, of the encyclical. 

The Anglo-Saxon race furnished the Pope with reason for 
action. Here appear Manning, Gibbons, Ireland and Keane, the 
last three of whom are better known, and more highly appre 
ciated, in Europe than in their own country. They are men of 
ardor and action, always optimists, ever alert and never discour 
aged. Both by vocation and by environment they are leaders. Dis 
entangled from the conventionalities of the Old World, they are 
more free than their European confreres ; their faith is more pro 
nounced and their word has the true ring of the Gospel of Christ. 

As an American, I am proud that the sacred spark which 
set Europe and the Vatican aflame was supplied by our own favored 
land. In 1887, when the memorial concerning the Knights of 
Labor was forwarded to Eome, the Christian world still hesitated. 
But this document was the trumpet note which settled the issue. 
Rome spoke, the encyclical Rerum Novarum was promulgated, 
and timid, Catholic Europe breathed a sigh of relief. 

Such, then, are the origin, the character and the history of 
the social idea of Rome. Leo XIII. has been the grand resultant 
of a historical movement. It is because he was obedient to the 
laws of history, and because he understood the social needs of 
his time, that he deserves to be known forever as the Pope of 
the workingmen and the great high-priest of our century. 

J. A. ZAHM, C. S. C. 




THERE is one fact connected with the Second Empire which 
the nobodies who have lorded it over France since the Empire's 
fall have not been able to explain away. I allude to the unprece 
dented prosperity the country enjoyed during those eighteen years. 
All their attempted explanations to that effect are lame and more 
than lame ; they cannot even limp along ; they are positively para 
lyzed by subsequent facts . The impartial observer, whether he be a 
Frenchman or a foreigner, who happens to have lived in France 
under the regime of Napoleon III. and under that of the Third 
Republic cannot help pointing out that during the first-named 
period the peasant, and for that matter the townsman too, had 
his " fowl in the pot"; a condition of things which was considered 
by Henri IV. not a bad king as kings went in those days the 
height of a country's welfare. 

The answers to such a remark come glibly enough, and in 
many instances they are partly epigrammatic, partly philo 

" That ' fowl in the pot' on which you lay so much stress," 
retorted a Republican, "was simply the 'goose with the 
golden eggs '; the nation was eating both her interest and her 
capital." That, I maintain, is an absolute falsehood. It could 
be proved over and over again, if it were necessary, that the war 
expenses and the war tax of five milliards of francs were paid out 
of the savings of the population during the previous fifteen or 
sixteen years, that scarcely an acre of ground was either 
mortgaged or sold during the two or three years after the 


Treaty of Frankfort by those who invested their moneys in 
those loans. To adduce such proofs would lead me too far 
astray. I may mention, however, that in many of the smaller 
provincial centres those loans were almost entirely subscribed in 
what appeared to be newly minted gold and newly issued bank 
notes, both of which tenders, though, turned out on closer exami 
nation to have been minted and issued six, seven, eight and 
twelve years before. The moneys had simply been lying idle dur 
ing the whole of that time in the linen presses of the peasantry 
and the petite bourgeoisie in accordance with a system that has 
prevailed in France ever since the peasantry and petite bourgeoisie 
had something to save, a system which will not be entirely aban 
doned within the next century, if then. If further proofs were 
wanted of the unexampled prosperity of France between 1855- 
70, they would be found in a comparison of the reports of the 
Poor Law Board (Assistance Publique) during the Citizen Mon 
archy and the Third Republic with those of the Second Empire. 

It would be sheer folly to pretend that there was no poverty 
in France during the Second Empire. But from various causes 
the attitude of " Fortune's favorites " towards the indigent was 
different from what it is to-day. The self-sufficient, pompous, 
quasi-virtuous big-wig of the Third Republic flatters himself 
that he owes his position to talents, energy, and perseverance. 
Though he can be lavish at times, he is rarely generous ; he con 
tents himself with being just according to his own lights. In 
the majority of cases he has never had the handling of large 
sums of money until he wheedled himself or was pitchforked 
into parliament, diplomacy or office, and, what is worse for the 
poor, he knows his position to be insecure, and that, therefore, 
he must make hay while the sun shines. 

It is doubtful if the big- wig of the Second Empire ever enter 
tained those fears of relapsing into obscurity and straitened 
means. Whether talented or not, he was less impressed with his 
own " high and mightiness" than the Republican. Those whom 
I have known were almost inclined to laugh in their sleeves at 
the idea of a providential mission on the part of Queen Hortense's 
son, let alone at their own share in such a mission. Not a few 
grinned behind the backs of the worshippers at the Napoleonic 
shrine, but until a short time before the collapse all had great 
faith in the cleverness of the high priest, and above all in his 


" star." And inasmuch as he, the high priest, convinced that 
his "star" would never fail him, gave freely, without stint, 
almost too lavishly, and certainly too indiscriminately, the 
majority of his court followed suit in that respect as in every 
other.* 9 

And in spite of the Republicans' frequent assertions to that 
effect, Louis Napoleon's charity was not the result of political and 
dynastic calculation. It proceeded from the wish to enjoy life 
himself and to make every one around him enjoy it ; for he was 
essentially the bon-vivant in the widest and most beneficent ac 
ceptation of the term ; the bon-vivant whom Marivaux had in his 
mind's eye when he said, "Pour etre assez bon, il faut Vetre 
trop." His charming ways, his amiability in all things, his dis 
interested generosity, his appreciation of humor, even when it was 
directed against himself, have never been surpassed by any mon 
arch ; and as a consequence, perhaps no monarch Charles II. 
included has contributed more to his own downfall than he. 
One instance of that amiability, which under the circumstances 
might well be called culpable neglect to checkmate his enemies in 
time, must suffice here. On the 3d November, 1863, Thiers and 
many other avowed opponents of the Empire resumed their seats 
at the Palais Bourbon. Morny, in his opening speech as Presi 
dent of the Chamber, alluded in graceful terms to the reappear 
ance of some of his former parliamentary colleagues. " I rejoice to 
see them once more, and have no doubt about the loyalty of their 
intentions," he said. The next morning Morny paid a visit to 
the Emperor, who complimented him on his eloquence. 
" Nevertheless," added Napoleon with a smile, " it strikes me 
that your reference to the election of M. Thiers was a little well, 
a little too intense. You are reported to have said: f As for myself, I 

* After the fall of the Empire, thousands of begging letters were found at the 
Tuileries, nearly all of which were annotated in the handwriting of the Emperor 
himself, mentioning the sums that had been sent in reply. lie spent on an average 
140,000 per annum in that way thus 2,500,000 during the eighteen years of his 
reign. When we consider that this same man left an income of leas than 5,000 to 
his widow, the reader will agree that the words lavish and indiscriminate are not 
misplaced. We are not concerned here with the private fortune of the Empress, for 
although it is true that she pledged her jewels in the beginning of September, 1870, 
in Knpland, in order to face the immediate expenses for herself and her small band 
of followers, it is by no means certain that necessity compelled that step. With re 
gard to the late Emperor's invincible belief in his " star, here is another proof. By 
his will, drawn up while he was stiJl on the throne, everything was left to the Em 
press, not the smalleat provision having been made for the son whom he loved with 
a deep-seated, almost idolatrous affection. It was because Napoleon III. felt con 
fident that his "star" would prolong his days until he had seen that son firmly 
established as his successor on the throne. In that case there would have been no 
necessity to provide for him, and it would have been but right that the Empress 
should enjoy the revenues. But for that will the Prince Imperial might be alive 
and on the throne of his father, for he would certainly not have gone to Zululand. 


rejoice, etc., etc/ Does not * rejoice' convey a little too much ?" 
Moray pointed out that he had referred to former colleagues 
with whom he had then been on the best of terms, and so forth. 
" Yes, yes," retorted the Emperor gaily ; " I had better make 
up my mind to it ; I am surrounded by enemies. There is no 
doubt about it, you are an OrleanislT;; decidedly, you are an Or- 

The note relating this incident is couched in somewhat 
critical terms, an unusual tone for my grand-uncles to adopt. It 
goes on as follows : ' * I do not like the way things are drifting at 
the Chateau (Tuileries). Every one there seems to be master ex 
cept the master himself. Politics are discussed in the interval 
between two dances by men and women who have no more idea 
of such matters than our cook has of anatomy, dissecting and 
operating. I dare say our cook would indignantly refute such a 
charge of ignorance by triumphantly pointing to the fowl she has 
trussed or the joint she has trimmed, and it would be vain on my 
part, I suppose, to make her understand the difference between 
operating upon a live body and a dead one. And the Empire, 
though by no means a healthy body, is very much alive. A few 
months ago I read a book on The French Revolution, by an Eng 
lishman,* and one passage struck me as particularly pertinent to 
the present state of affairs. ' Meanwhile it is singular how long the 
rotten will hold together, provided you do not handle it roughly/ 
I am afraid those twenty-three newly elected deputies, five of 
whom have sat in the Chamber for the last six years, are going to 
handle the Empire roughly, and the mistake of the Emperor lies 
in his having given them a chance. He ought to have prevented 
their return by hook or by crook. The man who made a clean 
sweep of at least ten times their number twelve years ago ought 
not to have afforded any of them an opportunitv now of making 
a clean sweep of him ; for that, assuredly, is what they will en 
deavor to do. 

" How long they will have to wait for such an opportunity it 
would be difficult to determine, but when that opportunity comes 
they will be ready for it. In fairness to them it should be said 
that they do not disguise their intentions ; the noise they make 
in preparing their brooms by stamping the handles on the 
ground in the orthodox fashion is loud enough to awaken 



any one who is not wilfully deaf ; but they are either that at 
the Tuileries, or else their own buffooning prevents them from 
hearing as well as seeing what is going on around them. From 
what I gather it is not easy to decide whether the latest travestis 
of Meilhac and Halevy and Offenbach are the pure outcome of 
these gentlemen's imaginations, or simply a faithful picture of 
some of the scenes enacted now and then at the Chateau unless 
the scenes at the Chdteau are a deliberate attempt to imitate, nay 
to surpass, Mdlle. Schneider, Leonce and their fellow artists. 
The gods, demi-gods, heroes and heroines of Homer, as portrayed 
by the authors of Orphee aux Enfers and La Belle H'etene, and 
set in motion by that truly magic music of Maitre Jacques, are 
assuredly not more astounding to the unsophisticated, and for 
that matter to the sophisticated, than a great many of the war 
riors, clericals, grandes dames and grands seigneurs constituting 
the innermost circle at the Court. What, after all, is the high 
priest Calchas to that astonishing Abbe Bauer, the latest fad, I 
am told, in the way of ascetic, but at the same time elegant, 
Christianity ? He is a convert ; he was educated for the Jewish 
ministry, and if everything the people state be true, Judaism is 
well rid of him. It appears that a little while ago the abbe tried 
to convert Adolphe Cremieux, for Cremieux, though baptized 
when quite an infant, is distinctly a Jew and not a Catholic ; a 
Jew, moreover, of whom Judaism throughout the world may well 
feel proud. Of course, the conversion of such a man as Cre 
mieux, if at all feasible, could not be accomplished by an Abbe 
Bauer, who was more than roughly handled in the encounter. 
Bauer, however, in spite of his quasi-refined exterior, is a vul 
garian to his fingers' ends and thick-skinned besides. Cremieux's 
hard hitting did not make him wince, and at the end of the 
interview he said: f l am very much surprised at your views about 
the founder of our religion, for I really believe that you are so 
liberal a Jew as to have legally defended Christ if you had lived 
in His time/ 'That I certainly should have done,' replied 
Cremieux, 'and, what is more, I should have got Him acquitted 
unless unless I had been obliged to put the like of you in the 
witness-box for the defence.' More scathing than even this is 
Monseigneur Dupanloup's criticism on Abbe Bauer's first sermon 
before the Court. The preacher, in spite of the warnings of his 
superiors, had given too much prominence to the Virgin in his 


address. * Place aux dames,' said the Bishop of Orleans. 'Ac 
cording to Abbe Bauer there is no God, and the Virgin Mary is 
His mother/ 

" I may be permitted to doubt, though, whether this treatment 
& I'ancien regime of sacred subjects, or rather the reintroduction of 
the perfumed, theatrical, and too worldly abbe into Court circles, 
by which the Empress wishes to emphasize her admiration for 
Marie- Antoinette, her surroundings and legitimacy in general, is 
calculated to give the nation a very exalted opinion of their rulers. 
One does not want a John Knox thundering against everything, 
nor does one want an Abbe Bauer ' under-studying 9 the role of a 
Cardinal de Rohan. Mouse igneur Dupanloup, notwithstanding the 
sally just quoted, is a highly gifted, worthy, and absolutely disinter 
ested prelate. He is thoroughly imbued with the dignity of his 
sacred office, and although very militant at all times, and often 
abrupt and the reverse of amiable, he would not condescend to 
enact the buffoon, or instruct his clergy to that effect, for no 
matter how good a cause. He would not do evil that good might 
come. But a great many of his fellow-prelates do not possess the 
same tact and discrimination. They fulminate, or allow their 
clergy to fulminate, against the vices and foibles of the hour in a 
manner which is apt to breed as much contempt for the would-be 
physician as for the patient. Not long ago a parish priest, in 
veighing against the can-can, actually held up the two sides of 
his cassock and performed some steps in the pulpit to show his 
flock how the Holy Virgin danced and how they, his flock, 
should dance. That priest decidedly beats Calchas in La Belle 
Helene, but there is a warrior at the Court who beats both the 
cure, the Calchas and the Agamemnon of the opera-bouffe. 
This is no other than Count Tascher de la Pagerie, who imitates 
barn-yard fowls, the sun and the moon, by making idiotic grim 
aces at the command of his imperial mistress, and who is ' trotted 
out' on all occasions for the amusement of visitors. Count 
Tascher does not think it incompatible with his rank in the 
army, his relationship to the Emperor and his position of Cham 
berlain to the Empress to oblige in that way. He is prouder of 
those accomplishments than of his birth, the brave deeds of his 
father, and of everything else besides. After that, people need 
not wonder at G-ustave Dor6's performing somersaults and stand 
ing on his head for his own amusement, and at his announced in- 


tention of abandoning his own career,, in which he has already 
won much fame, for that of Anriol, the clown. 

" And it is more than probable that in the intervals of his 
clowning, this same Count Tascher pretends to lend a hand in 
the steering of the ' ship of State/ for the Tuileries is fast be 
coming a 'cour du roi Petaud et cliacun y parle liaut.'* 

<( The worst of it is that those whose very existence as a body 
depends upon their unquestioning obedience and abstention 
from comment until such comment is invited are becoming 
infected with the prevailing mania for laying down the law 
on every conceivable subject. When I say ' becoming in 
fected ' I put it mildly ; in reality they have set the ex 
ample I mean the army. I have seen enough of soldiering 
to know the inestimable value of silent obedience to the orders of 
one's superiors. The order may be wrong, and tantamount to a 
death sentence to its recipient ; he is bound to carry it out to the 
letter. And yet, with the examples of Lords Lucan and Cardi 
gan at Balaclava before them, French officers will go on discuss 
ing orders, not only from a military point of view but from a 

" One instance in point will suffice. The delinquent is gone, 
and peace be to his ashes ! for he was a brave and honorable 
soldier. But his well-known bravery and uprightness, and, above 
all, his position near the Emperor as aide-de-camp, called for more 
circumspection on General de Cotte's part than he exercised on 
the occasion alluded to. The thing happened a few evenings 
before the Emperor's departure for the Franco-Austrian war. 
General de Cotte was on duty at the time, and after dinner went 
down to the smoking-room set apart for the military and civil 
household. f The thing is settled/ he said aloud, lighting a cigar 
ette ; * in a day or two we shall be on our way to Italy, unless 
Providence and the Lunacy Commissioners stop us at the first 
stage at Charenton/f Half an hour later the general went up 
stairs to the Empress's drawing-room. He had scarcely entered 

* In olden times the mendicants, in imitation of the guilds, corporations, and 
communities in France, annually elected a king, who took the title of King Petaud, 
from the Latin peto. In Tartvffe, Orgon's mother compares her son's house to the 
court of King P6taud. "On riy respecte rien, chacun y parle haut," she says. 

t Charenton is the well-known madhouse just outside Paris. At the news of the 
declaration of war in 1870 Prince Napoleon made a similar remark. He was on his 
way to the East with Ernest Reuan. " Reverse your engines," he said to the master 
of the yacht; " we are going back." " Where to, monseigneur ?" was the question. 
"To Charenton." The reply was quoted as something spitefully witty and original. 
It was spiteful, hut not original. 


the apartment when the Emperor came up to him with a smile. 
' My dear general/ he remarked, quietly, ' I have too much respect 
for the opinion of others, even when they are diametrically opposed 
to mine, to ask people to fight battles the causes for which they 
do not approve. You will remain in Paris with the Empress/ 

" That did not suit the general's book at all ; but he did not 
utter a word in defence, he only bowed. He was, in fact, too 
astonished at his comment having reached the ears of the Em 
peror so soon. As far as he was aware, no servant had entered 
the room while he was there. He was, then, reluctantly compelled 
to conclude that an equal had played the part of tell-tale ; and 
that alone would convey a fair idea of the code of honor that 
obtains among the immediate entourage of the sovereigns. 
Nevertheless, he was not going to be left out of the fight 
ing, so on the 14th of May he simply had his horses and 
baggage taken to the Imperial train, selected a seat in an 
empty compartment, and only showed his face at Marseilles. 
The Emperor merely smiled and held out his hand. This is a 
sample of the Emperor's amiability, of his willingness to let by 
gones be bygones/' 

My notes contain a hundred similar anecdotes, all tending to 
show that the Emperor was too good-natured ; and I shall have 
no difficulty in proving, when the time comes, that this excessive 
laissez-faire finally caused his ruin. 

As yet, however, the cloud on the horizon is not bigger than 
a hand, and certainly not visible to the naked eye. And France 
is too busy enjoying herself to scan the sky with a spyglass. She 
does not even enact the fable of the hare with the telescope ; she 
remains profoundly ignorant of the approach of her enemy. 
France resounds with laughter, and above it all rings that modern 
version of Rabelais' "Fay ce que vouldras," viz., the chorus of 
Theresa's song, " Rien n'est sacrepour unsapeur," which chorus 
paints the moral atmosphere in one line. 

For the sapper stood not alone in his irreverence for any and 
everything. He simply took his cue from those above him, from 
educated and talented men who deliberately mocked at "the 
whole world and his wife," including the sovereign and his con 
sort, the former of whom they not only slighted in his private 
capacity, but as the chief of the State. Kochefort, at a later 
period, had at any rate the courage to attack openly; the par- 


tisans of the <T Orleans regime lacked that courage. They sailed 
as close to the wind as they dared without risking penalties. 
Strange to say, though, the worst blows to the Emperor's dignity 
came from the Emperor's friends and proteges, and were dealt in 
fun " histoirede s'amuser et d' amuser Us autres." They came 
in the shape of practical jokes at which Society roared and the 
victim himself, who was rarely seen to smile, laughed outright. 

On the face of it, the jokes perpetrated by " Napoleon IIL's 
double/' as Eugene Vivier was called, may appear trivial. But 
the startling likeness of the famous cornet-player to the Emperor 
which made those jokes possible had its influence, nevertheless, 
on the Emperor personally, and gave rise to the most absurd 
stories during the heyday of the Empire, and above all at its fall; 
which stories only tended to diminish the Emperor's prestige. 

" Paris is ringing again with another exploit of Vivier," says 
my note. " This time he has impersonated the Emperor at a 
supper at Mme. de Paiva's and to such good purpose that several 
of her guests who frequently see and talk to his Majesty were 
completely taken in. It would appear that about a week ago the 
Emperor and the Empress were at the Italian opera, where Mme. 
de Paiva's box faces that of their Majesties, and that the glare of 
the footlights hurt her Majesty's eyes. There was no screen in 
the Imperial box, and the Empress had only her fan to keep off 
the heat.* The Emperor remarked quite casually on the incon 
venience to one of his aides-de-camp, saying, ' Mme. de Paiva is 
better off than we are ; look, what a beautiful Japanese screen she 
has ! ' The aide-de-camp in question happened to be on friendly 
terms with Mme. de Pai'va, and paid her a visit between the acts. 
Quite as casually as the Emperor he remarked upon the beauty 
of the screen, adding that the Emperor would be pleased to have 
a similar one for the Empress. Thereupon, Mme. de Paiva un 
fastens the screen in question, hands it to her visitor, and bids 
him offer it to the Emperor with her respectful compliments for 
the use of the Empress. The aide-de-camp, though considerably 
embarrassed, dare not refuse the offer, and makes his way to the 
Imperial box with the screen, which he quietly adjusts in front of 
the Empress, who, however, sweeps it contemptuously out of her 
way. The Empress has not got her temper under sufficient con 
trol, and often allows it to get the better of her in public ; under 

* Fans were very small in those days; the large one date from much later. 


such circumstances the Emperor invariably pours oil upon the 
troubled waters, and he did so in this instance. He picked up 
the screen, and with a smile placed it in front of himself ; and 
inasmuch as Mme. de Pa'iva had narrowly watched the scene from 
the other side of the house, he considered himself bound to go 
and thank her personally the next day or the day after. For that 
part of the story I will, however, not vouch. I am under the im 
pression that it is a pure fabrication, whether of Mme. de Paiva 
herself or of some of her familiars I am unable to say. Both are 
equally inventive, and the rumor was evidently set afloat in order 
to find a basis for the next scene in which Vivier was to play his 
part. For even if one admits that the Emperor paid the alleged 
visit, his Majesty would certainly not have followed it up by in 
viting himself or accepting an invitation to a supper at Mme. de 
Paiva's at any rate not to a supper in company with a half-score 
of guests, not one of whom is particularly famed for the art of 
holding his tongue. 

" Be this is as it may, the supper with the carefully s pre 
pared ' entrance of Vivier, took place and has furnished fresh 
gossip for at least a week. Practically, the Emperor is power 
less to prevent those things ; he can neither send Vivier into 
exile nor condemn him to wear a mask, but there was no neces 
sity to invite Vivier to the Tuileries and to have the performance 
repeated for the delectation of all and sundry, as the Emperor 
has done. 

" The fact is, Vivier is persona grata with Louis Napoleon 
for a far different reason than people suspect. To begin with, 
Vivier is a Corsican ; secondly, many years ago Vivier gave un 
solicited testimony to Louis Napoleon's legitimacy, which has 
been so often called in question, and on which the Emperor is 
so exceedingly sensitive. It happened in 1844, while Vivier was 
giving some performances in London. One day he met a coun 
tryman of his with the name of Ceccaldi, who told him that 
Prince Louis was in London, and that he (Vivier) ought to pay 
his respects to him. ' Come to the French Theatre to-night 
and I will present you/ said Ceccaldi. At that time Vivier had 
never set eyes on the Prince, but the moment he entered the 
theatre he pointed him out to his companion. ' How do you 
know ? ' asked Ceccaldi ; ' you have never seen him before/ 
' No/ was the reply, ' but I recognized him at once by the like- 


ness to his father, to whom I was presented at Pisa/ Then there 
is the truly startling likeness between the Emperor and Vivier 
himself. Although it has already led to much mischief, and 
may lead to further mischief,* the Emperor, with his ' big heart/ 
his somewhat too active imagination, and his fatalism, is almost 
convinced that Vivier's existence is more or less bound up with 
his own. 

" Thus we have the Jester in Ordinary to the Court, i. e., 
Count Tascher ; the Jester who performs f by command/ namely, 
Eugene Vivier ; and we have also the corps de ballet and the 
corps dramatique, for now and again there are choregraphic and 
other entertainments, generally arranged by the Princesse von 
Metternich, who enjoys herself at the Tuileries as she probably 
would not be allowed to enjoy herself at the Hofburg. The 
daughter of the famous Count Szandor, who by the by was as mad 
as a March hare (I mean the father), does not think it necessary 
to observe the same strict rules of etiquette towards the grandson 
of a Corsican lawyer and his wife, she would be bound to 
observe towards a Hapsburg and his spouse, herself a Princesse 
des Deux-Ponts-Birkenfeld. And to make the resemblance to 
the ordinary theatre complete, the noble and aristocratic balle 
rinas quarrel among themselves just like rats de I'op'era, issued 
from concierges and cabmen, and would come to blows now and 
then, like the humbler-born dancers, but for the timely interven 
tion of the Empress/' 

" Is it a wonder, then, that the Pai'vas, the Skittles, the Cora 
Pearls, and the rest shrug their shoulders and smile, nay, laugh 
outright, at the mention of some of those grandes dames de par le 
monde. I doubt whether many of those declassees be very witty; 
nevertheless, they are credited now and then with saying things 
which are worthy of a Ninon de TEnclos and Rochefoucauld 
although I strongly suspect that some of the clever literary men 
and journalists among their familiars are mainly responsible for 
the epigrammatic form of those remarks. This is perhaps 
another instance of ' Nemesis at work again,' for if in the begin 
ning of the Empire the papers had been allowed a certain latitude 

* I feel convinced that there was no prophetic intent to the words I have under 
lined in the above note. Nevertheless, after the fall of Sedan there were hundreds 
of people in France, and ahoye all in Paris, who said that the Emperor was not at 
Wilhelmshohe at all, that Vivier had been sent for in hot haste and had taken his 
place. Absurd as was the story, it was encouraged by the Republicans, who saw 
in it a means of still further damaging the Emperor's prestige. 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 465. 15 


in their comments upon matters political, the writers would not 
have been obliged to make themselves the assiduous chroniclers 
of thefaits et gestes of that particular section of society in order 
to live. As it is, those records have become a permanent feature 
and will probably not disappear, however much the stringent 
rules with regard to political comment be relaxed in the future. 
At present there appears to be a tendency in the other direction, 
and the Emperor who I feel persuaded is liberally inclined 
does not know which course to adopt in consequence of the mul 
tiplicity of his counsellors, not two of whom appear to be agreed 
as to the degree of liberty to be granted, and all of whom not 
to mince words are making fools of themselves. 

" Of course, the Cora Pearls, the Skittles, the Paivas, and the 
rest are only too delighted at all this, and confident of the support 
of their friends the journalists have entered into open rivalry with 
the Court beauties again, of course, on the only ground where 
such rivalry was possible, namely, Longchamps, the Bois de Bou 
logne, the Champs-Elyse'es, and the theatres. Mdme. de Paiva's 
boxes at the Opera and at the Italiens are more luxuriously 
appointed than those of the Emperor and Empress ; her dia 
monds are more costly than the latter's ; Skittles's pony-chaise, 
with its pair of black cobs, and its two grooms on coal-black 
cattle behind, beats anything and everything from the Imperial 
stables ; Cora Pearl's turn-out throws everything into the shade 
except Skittles's ; the two latter cut a better figure on horseback 
than either the Comtesse de Pourtales, Mme. de Gallifet, 
Mme. de Contades, or Mme. de Persigny ; they have only two 
equals in that respect the Empress and Mme. de Metternich. 
Their carriage-horses, hacks and hunters look better, are better 
bred and broken in than the best elsewhere, and need not fear 
comparison with those provided by General Fleury for the use of 
her Majesty. As may be readily imagined, her Majesty is not 
particularly pleased. Fleury admits that there is cause for dis 
pleasure, but professes himself unable to alter the state of things/' 

By that time I was a young man of over twenty, and had 
paid several visits to London in the season, which enabled me 
to appreciate the difference of course from a merely ama 
teurish point of view between the two capitals in the matter 
of horseflesh and conveyances. Well, the trained and severely 
critical eye of the real connoisseur would have unquestionably 


awarded the palm for merit to the simple elegance in the Eow 
and the Ladies' Mile ; to the uninitiated the spectacle in the 
Avenue de Flmperatrice (at present the Avenue da Bois de Bou 
logne) would have appealed with greater effect. It was more 
showy ; nevertheless, it was very beautiful, and the Parisians 
had, from what I was told, never seen anything like it. 

The recollection in the shape of mental pictures has remained 
bright and vivid throughout these many, many years. I have no 
need to refer to notes to reconstruct the scenes; in fact, I have 
no notes bearing on that subject. I have simply to sit still and 
let the pictures uprise before me. The backgrounds are almost 
invariably the same; it is either the Arc de Triomphe standing 
like a grey pawn against a deep blue sky or the masses of dark 
green of the Bois apparently forming an impenetrable barrier at 
the end of the Avenue de Flmperatrice. 

The first in the field is generally Mme. Feuillant with her 
two charming daughters, mere girls at that period. The whole 
of the turn-out is absolutely perfect, from an artistic point of 
view I am not quite so sure about the other point from the 
small heads of the two big black steppers, with large tufts of 
Parma violets at their headstalls, to the hood which appears to do 
duty as a storehouse for similar bouquets large and small. Violets 
predominate in the whole of the arrangement; they are conspic 
uous in the bonnet of Mme. Feuillant herself a bonnet with a 
yallance, and which enframes the face like a portrait; the foot 
man and coachman have hugh nosegays of violets, the tint of 
which harmonizes admirably with the collars and cuffs of their 
dark green liveries. 

More conspicuous was the carriage of Mme. de Metternich. 
It was yellow, and yellow had almost entirely disappeared in those 
days, to be revived, however, later on. But in the early sixties 
only Mines, de Gallifet, de Jancourt, and the Austrian Ambassa 
dress patronized that colour. 

Then came Rothschilds' turn-outs, always more remarkable 
for their magnificent horses than for the beauty of their carriages, 
and hard upon them the landau of Mdlle. Schneider, who as yet 
was not the Duchesse de G6rolstein, but simply La Belle 

Between half-past four and five there was generally a slight 
stir of expectation among the occupants of "la Plage," better 


known to-day as "le Cercle des Decaves." In a little while 
there appeared on the horizon four troopers of some crack regi 
ment of the Imperial Guards, flanked by a corporal, and im 
mediately afterwards came the carriage of the little Prince 
Imperial followed by a captain's escort of the same regiment. 
To the left of the carriage rode the officer in charge, with a 
trumpeter by his side; to the right M. Bachon, the Prince's 
riding master and equerry, in a gold-embroidered green tunic, 
cocked hat with black feathers, white breeches, and jack-boots. 
About that period, however, M. Bachon's office was an absolute 
sinecure, the Prince having met with an accident which disabled 
him for many, many months from mounting his ponies, and the 
cause of which accident subsequently became also the cause of 
his premature and sad death in Zululand.* 

Shortly afterwards came the Emperor in his phaeton, without 
an escort of any kind, and only his aide-de-camp by his side. The 
pace of his Orloff s, which had cost 40,000 francs, was remark 
able and somewhat dangerous to those who got in their way, for 
every now and then, and up to the last, the Imperial whip, for 
getting that he was in France and not in England, mistook his 
nearside for his offside. Not once, but a dozen times, have I 
heard the indignant Jehu exclaim : " Where is he going to, the 
brute? Where did he learn to drive ?" Though no man looked 
better on horseback than Napoleon III., he left off riding almost 
immediately after he ascended the throne, except on special oc 
casions, such as reviews and at Compiegne while out hunting. 
Already at that time the Emperor had his horses broken in by 
M. Faverol de Kerbrech, just as he had his new boots worn by 
his barber. Then came the Empress in her elegant caleche 
drawn by four bays with postilions, outrider, and grooms, in 
green and gold, the first-named wearing jockeys' caps half hidden 
by the golden fringe of the tassels. 


(To be Continued.) 


This is a note I made on the day the particulars of the Prince's death came 
to hand. The note was written entirely from memory, but I feel certain 
that all my facts are correct. " Several of the Prince's little playfellows 
had a foreign (English ?) riding-master who knew nothing of the classical 

See Appendix to this Chapter. 


traditions of the French school, and who taught his pupils things which M. 
Bachon, the Prince's riding-master, was probably unable and certainly un 
willing to teach his. M. Bachon had been second master to the celebrated 
M. d'Aure, in Paris, afterwards he had taught at Saumur. M. d' Aure, how 
ever, though a most brilliant horseman himself, had not founded a school of 
horsemanship. He was what I should call a brilliant equestrian improvi 
sator rather than a sterling teacher. M. Bachon was an excellent riding- 
master, and that was all. He had none of the flashes of genius of his chief. 
He taught the Prince to ride perfectly broken-in ponies, and tacitly discoun 
tenanced all showy riding and tricks. And the showy riding and tricks 
were exactly what the little lad seemed to like most. Fired by the example 
of his playmates, who vaulted in the saddle while their tiny mounts were 
going at a galop, jumped down again, and repeated the feat over and again 
in spite of their frequent tumbles, the Prince tried to do the same, and one 
summer evening at Saint Cloud, while the Emperor was looking on, his son 
came heavily to the ground. He was up again in a moment, and there was 
no sign that he was badly or even slightly hurt. Had there been such a 
sign, the Emperor would have been too seriously alarmed to countenance 
for a single moment the continuation of the game, for assuredly no man 
ever loved his child better than Louis Napoleon loved his. The boy returned 
that affection a hundred fold, and it was this sweet trait in his character 
that caused him to hide his pain, for he fancied his father was annoyed with 
him for his inferiority to his play-fellows. Was his father annoyed, and did 
he show his annoyance ? I cannot say. Certain it is that the little Prince 
went on vaulting ; young as he was he would not be beaten. 

"I know of a similar case of perseverance in his father's life. One severe 
winter while he was staying at Leamington there was a great deal of skat 
ing, and one of the favorite games was to jump over an upturned chair 
while going at a great pace. Prince Louis attempted the feat several times 
without success, coming down each time with a tremendous crash that 
made the lookers-on stare. He would not give in, though, and finally con 
quered the difficulty. 

"To come back to the little Prince, who, after that night went on taking 
his riding lessons, but so languidly that M. Bachon began to reproach him 
with laziness. Instead of jumping into the saddle as he was wont to do, he 
had to be assisted, and in a little while bodily lifted on to his pony. M. 
Bachon, as yet ignorant of what happened, peremptorily bade him one day 
to place his foot into the stirrup, and then it all came out. Intensely 
frightened, the riding-master immediately communicated with the Emperor, 
who only remembered his son's fall in connection with his pluck. For 
months and months the child suffered and never mounted his ponies. He 
recovered gradually, but the habit he had contracted of hoisting himself 
into the saddle by means of his hands clung to him. Many of his friends in 
England could bear testimony to this. It was the cause of his death in 
Zululand. Trusting to his skill, he attempted to jump on to his horse 
which was already in motion ; the holster, of which he caught hold for the 
purpose, gave way, and he was left to face the foe by himself. A. D. V. 



NEVER before has the intellect of man been brought so di 
rectly face to face with the mystery of existence as it is now. 
Some veil of religious tradition has always been interposed. At the 
beginning of this century most minds still rested in the Mosaic 
cosmogony and the Noachic deluge. Greek speculation was free, 
and its freedom makes it an object of extreme interest to us at 
the present time. But it was not intensely serious ; it was rather 
the intellectual amusement of a summer day in Academe beneath 
the whispering plane. 

No one who reads and thinks freely can doubt that the cos- 
mogonical and historical foundations of traditional belief have 
been sapped by science and criticism. When the crust shall fall 
in appears to be a question of time, and the moment can hardly 
fail to be one of peril ; not least in the United States, where edu 
cation is general and opinion spreads rapidly over an even field, 
with no barriers to arrest its sweep.. 

Ominous symptoms already appear. Almost all the churches 
have trouble with heterodoxy and are trying clergymen for 
heresy. Quite as significant seems the growing tendency of the 
pulpit to concern itself less with religious dogma and more with 
the estate of man in his present world. It is needless to say what 
voices of unbelief outside the churches are heard and how high 
are the intellectual quarters from which they come. Christian 
ethics still in part retain their hold. So does the Church as a 
social centre and a reputed safeguard of social order. But faith 
in the dogmatic creed and the history is waxing faint. Eitualism 
itself seems to betray the need of a new stimulus and to be in 
some measure an aesthetic substitute for spiritual religion. 

Dogmatic religion may be said to have received a fatal wound 


three centuries ago, when the Ptolemaic system was succeeded by 
the Copernican, and the real relation of the earth to the universe 
was disclosed. Dogmatic religion is geocentric. It assumes that 
our earth is the centre of the universe, the primary object "of 
divine care, and the grand theatre of divine administration. 
The tendency was carried to the height of travesty when an in 
sanely ultramontane party at Rome meditated, as, if we may be 
lieve Dr. Pusey, it did, the declaration of a hypostatic union of 
the Pope and the Holy G-host. But it was in Byzantine or medi 
aeval theosophy that the travesty had its source. The effect of 
the blow dealt by Copernicus was long suspended, but it is fully 
felt now that the kingdom of science is come, and the bearings 
of scientific discovery are generally known. When daylight 
gives place to starlight we are transported from the earth to the 
universe, and to the thoughts which the contemplation of the 
universe begets. "What is man, that Thou art mindful of 
him ? " is the question that then rises in our minds. Is it pos 
sible that so much importance as the creeds imply can attach to 
this tiny planet and to the little drama of humanity ? We might 
be half inclined to think that man has taken himself too seri 
ously and that in the humorous part of our nature, overlooked 
by philosophy, is to be found the key to his mystery. The feel 
ing is enhanced when we consider that we have no reason for be 
lieving that our senses are exhaustive, however much Science, 
with her telescopes, microscopes, and spectroscopes, may extend 
their range. We cannot tell that we are not like the sightless 
denizens of the Mammoth Cave, unconsciously living in the 
midst of wonders and glories beyond our ken. 

Nor has the natural theology of the old school suffered from 
free criticism much less than revelation. Optimism of the ortho 
dox kind seems no longer possible. Christianity itself, indeed, 
is not optimistic. It represents the earth as cursed for man's 
sake, ascribing the curse to primeval sin, and the prevalence of 
evil in the moral world as not only great but permanent, since 
those who enter the gate of eternal death are many, while those 
who enter the gate of eternal life are few. Natural theology of 
the optimistic school and popular religion have thus been at vari 
ance with each other. The old argument from design is now 
met with the answer that we have nothing with which to com 
pare this world, and therefore, cannot tell whether it was possible 


for it to be other than it is. Mingled with the signs of order, 
science discloses apparent signs of disorder, miscarriage, failure, 
wreck, and waste. Our satellite, so far as we can see, is either a 
miscarriage or a wreck. Natural selection by a struggle for ex 
istence, protracted through countless ages, with the painful ex 
tinction of the weaker members of the race, and even of whole 
races, is hardly the course which benevolence, such as we con 
ceive it, combined with omnipotence, would be expected to take. 
If in the case of men suffering is discipline, though this can 
hardly be said when infants die or myriads are indiscriminately 
swept off by plague, in the case of animals, which are incapable of 
discipline and have no future life, it can be nothing but suffering; 
and it often amounts to torture. The evil passions of men, with 
all the miseries and horrors which they have produced, are a part 
of human nature, which itself is a part of creation. Through 
the better parts of human nature and what there is of order, 
beneficence, majesty, tenderness, and beauty in the universe, a 
spirit is felt appealing to ours, and a promise seems to be con 
veyed. But if omnipotence and benevolence are to meet, it must 
apparently be at a point at present beyond our ken. These are 
the perplexities which obtrude themselves on a scientific age. 

What is man ? Whence comes he ? Whither goes he ? In the 
hands of what power is he ? What are the character and designs 
of that power ? These are questions which, now directly pre 
sented to us, are of such overwhelming magnitude that we almost 
wonder at the zeal and heat which other questions, such as party 
politics, continue to excite. The interest felt in them, however, 
is daily deepening, and an attentive audience is assured to any 
one who comes forward with a solution, however crude, of the 
mystery of existence. Attentive audiences have gathered round 
Mr. Kidd, Mr. Drummond, and Mr. Balfour, each of whom has 
a theory to propound. Mr. Kidd's work has had special vogue, 
and the compliments which its author pays to Professor Weis- 
mann have been reciprocated by that luminary of science. 

Mr. Drummond undertakes to reconcile, and more than rec 
oncile, our natural theology and our moral instincts to the law 
of evolution. His title, The Ascent of Man, is not new; 
probably it has been used by more than one writer before; nor is 
he the firsl to point out that the humble origin of the human 
species, instead of dejecting, ought to encourage us, since the 


being who has risen from an ape to Socrates and Newton may 
hope to rise still higher in the future, if not by further physical 
development, which physiology seems to bar by pronouncing the 
brain unsusceptible of further organic improvement, yet by intel 
lectual and moral effort. Mr. Drummond treats his subject with 
great brilliancy of style and adorns it with very interesting illus 
trations. Not less firmly than Voltaire's optimist persuaded 
himself that this was the best of all possible worlds, he has per 
suaded himself that evolution was the only right method of cre 
ation. He ultimately identifies it with love. The cruelties 
incidental to it he palliates with a complacency which sometimes 
provokes a smile. All of them seem to him comparatively of 
little account, inasmuch as the struggle for existence was to lead 
up to the struggle for the existence of others, in other words, 
to the production of maternity and paternity, with the altru 
ism, as he terms it, or, as we have hitherto termed it, the affec 
tion, attendant on those relations. To reconcile us to the sufferings 
of the vanquished in the struggle he dilates on " the keenness of 
its energies, the splendor of its stimulus, its bracing effect on 
character, its wholesome-lessons throughout the whole range of 
character." " Without the vigorous weeding of the imperfect, " 
he says, "the progress of the world would not have been 
possible." Pleasant reading this for "the imperfect" ! 

" If fit and unfit indiscriminatelv had been allowed to live and reproduce 
their kind, every improvement which any individual might acquire would be 
degraded to the common level in the course of a few generations. Progress 
can only start by one or two individuals shooting ahead of their species ; and 
their life-gain can only be conserved by their being shut off from their 
species or by their species being shut off from them. Unless shut off from 
their species their acquisition will either be neutralized in the course of time 
by the swamping effect of inter-breeding with the common herd, or so diluted 
as to involve no real advance. The only chance for evolution, then, is either 
to carry off these improved editions into ' physiological isolation,' or to re 
move the unimproved editions by wholesale death. The first of these two al 
ternatives is only occasionally possible ; the second always. Hence the death 
of the unevolved, or of the unadapted in reference to some new and higher 
relation with environment, is essential to the perpetuation of a useful varia 

This reasoning, with much more to the same effect, is plainly 
a limitation of omnipotence, and supposes that the ruling power 
of the universe could attain its end only at the expense of whole 
sale carnage and suffering ; which cannot be glozed over, and 
which, as the weakness was not the fault of the weak,, but of their 


Maker, is in apparently irreconcilable conflict with our human 
notions of benevolence and justice. 

This, however, is not all. We might, comparatively speaking, 
be reconciled to Mr. Drummond's plan of creation if all the car 
nage and suffering could be shown to be necessary or even condu 
cive to the great end of giving birth to humanity and love. But 
Mr. Drummond himself has to admit that natural selection by no 
means invariably works in the direction of progress ; that in the 
case of parasites it has consummated almost utter degradation. 
The phenomena of parasites and entozoa, with the needless tor 
ments which they inflict, appear irreconcilable with any optimis 
tic theory of the direction of suffering and destruction to a para 
mount and compensating end. Not only so, but all the extinct 
races except those which are in the line leading up to man and 
may be numbered among his progenitors, must, apparently, upon 
Mr. Drummond's hypothesis, have suffered and perished in vain. 
That " a price, a price in pain, and assuredly sometimes a very 
terrible price," has been paid for the evolution of the world, after 
all is said, Mr. Drummond admits to be certain. But he holds 
it indisputable that even at the highest estimate the thing 
bought with that price was none too dear, inasmuch as it was 
nothing less than the present progress of the world. So he thinks 
we " may safely leave Nature to look after her own ethic/' 
Probably we might if all the pain was part of the price. But 
we are distinctly told that it was not ; so that there is much of 
it in which, with our present lights or any that Mr. Drummond 
is able to afford us, men can hardly help thinking that they see the 
ruthless operation of blind chance. Nature, being a mere ab 
straction, has no ethic to look after ; nor has Evolution, which 
is not a power, but a method, though it is personified, we might 
almost say deified, by its exponent. But if there is not some 
higher authority which looks after ethic, what becomes of the 
ethic of man ? The most inhuman of vivisectors, if he could 
show that his practice really led, or was at all likely to lead, to 
knowledge, would have a better plea than, in the case of suffering 
and destruction which have led to nothing, the philosophy of 
evolution can by itself put in for the Author of our being. 

Mr. Drummon-d's treatise, like those of other evolutionists, at 
least of the optimistic school, assumes the paramount value of the 
type, and the rightfulness of sacrificing individuals without limit 


to its perfection and preservation. But this assumption surely 
requires to be made good, both to our intellects and to our hearts. 
The ultimate perfection and preservation of the type cannot, so 
far as we see, indemnify the individuals who have perished miser 
ably in the preliminary stages. Besides, what is the probable 
destiny of the type itself? Science appears to tell us pretty con 
fidently that the days of <our planet, however many they may be, 
are numbered, and that it is doomed at last to fall back into 
primeval chaos, with all the types which it may contain. Far 
from having an individual interest in the evolution of the type, 
the sufferers of the ages before Darwin had not even the clear 
idea of a type for their consolation. Evolutionists, in their 
enthusiasm for the species, are apt to bestow little thought on the 
sentient members of which it consists. "Man" is a mere general 
ization. This they forget, and speak as if all men personally 
shared the crown of the final heirs of human civilization. The 
following passage is an instance : 

" Science is charged, be it once more recalled, with numbering Man 
among the beasts, and levelling his body with the dust. But he who reads 
for himself the history of creation as it is written by the hand of Evolution 
will be overwhelmed by the glory and honor heaped upon this creature. To 
be a Man, and to have no conceivable successor ; to be the fruit and crown of 
the long-past eternity, and the highest possible fruit and crown ; to be tha 
last victor among the decimated phalanxes of earlier existences, and to be 
nevermore defeated ; to be the best that Nature in her strength and opu 
lence can produce ; to be the first of the new order of beings who, by their 
dominion over the lower world and their equipment for a higher, reveal that 
they are made in the Image of God to be this is to be elevated to a rank in 
Nature more exalted than any philosophy or any poetry or any theology has 
ever given to man. Man was always told that his place was high ; the reason 
for it he never knew till now ; he never knew that his title deeds were the 
very laws of Nature, that he alone was the Alpha and Omega of Creation, 
the beginning and the end of Matter, the final goal of Life." 

To be the last victor among the decimated phalanxes of 
earliest existences, and to be nevermore defeated, is, to say the 
least, a different sort of satisfaction from the glorious triumph of 
love in which the process of Evolution, according to Mr. Drum- 
mond, ends, and in virtue of which he proclaims that Evolution is 
nothing but the Involution of love, the revelation of Infinite 
Spirit, the Eternal Life returning to itself. It even reminds us 
a little of the unamiable belief that in the next world the sight 
of the wicked in torment will be a part of the enjoyment of the 
righteous. Perhaps there is also a touch of lingering geocentri- 


cism in this rapturous exaltation of Man. Evolution can give us 
no assurance that there are not in other planets creatures no less 
superior to man than he is to the lower tribes upon this earth. 

The crown of evolution in Mr. Drummond's system is the 
evolution of a mother, accompanied by that of a father, which, 
however, appears to be inferior in degree. The chapters on this 
subject are more than philosophy; they 'are poetry, soaring almost 
into rhapsody. ' ' The goal," Mr. Drummond says, " of the 
whole plant and animal kingdoms seems to have been the crea 
tion of a family which the very naturalist has to call mammals." 
The following passage is the climax : 

" But by far the most vital point remains. For we have next to observe 
how this bears directly on the theme we set out to explore the Evolution of 
Love. The passage from mere Otherism, in the physiological sense, to Al 
truism, in the moral sense, occurs in connection with the due performance 
of her natural task by her to whom the Struggle for the Life of Others is 
assigned. That task, translated into one great word, is Maternity which 
is nothing but the Struggle for the Life of Others transfigured to the moral 
sphere. Focused in a single human being, this function, as we rise in his 
tory, slowly begins to be accompanied by those heaven-born psychical states 
which transform the femaleness of the older order into the Motherhood of 
the new. When one follows Maternity out of the depths of lower Nature, 
and beholds it ripening in quality as it reaches the human sphere, its char 
acter, and the character of the processes by which it is evolved, appear in 
their full divinity. For of what is maternity the mother ? Of children ? 
No ; for these are the mere vehicle of its spiritual manifestation. Of affec 
tion between female and male ? No ; for that, contrary to accepted beliefs, 
has little to do in the first instance with sex-relations. Of what then ? Of 
Love itself, of Love as Love, of Love as Lif 9, of Love as Humanity, of Love 
as the pure and undefiled fountain of all that is eternal in the world. In the 
long stillness which follows the crisis of Maternity, witnessed only by the 
new and helpless life which is at once the last expression of the older funo 
tion and the unconscious vehicle of the new, Humanity is born." 

The father seems to be here shut out from the apotheosis ; 
though why, except from a sort of philosophic gallantry, it is dif 
ficult to discern. The man who toils from morning till night 
to support wife and child surely has not less to do with it than 
the woman who feeds the child from her breast. 

Somewhat paradoxical as it may seem, Mr. Drummond main 
tains that love did not come from lovers. It was not they that 
bestowed this gift upon the world. It was the first child, ' ' till 
whose appearance man's affection was non-existent, woman's was 
frozen ; and man did not love the woman, and woman did not 
love the man." Apparently, then, in a childless couple there can 


be no love. Here, according to Mr. Drummond, is the birth, of 
Altruism, for which all creation has travailed from the beginning 
of time. This appears to him a satisfactory solution of the prob 
lem of existence. Yet the races which have been sacrificed to 
the production of altruism, if they were critical and could find a 
voice, might ask if there was anything totally unselfish in the 
indulgence of the sexual passion, which after all plays its part in 
the matter, and of which the birth of a child is the unavoidable, 
not perhaps always the welcome, consequence. To the mother 
the child is necessary for a time in order to relieve her of a physi 
cal secretion ; while it repays her care by its endearments, the 
enjoyment of which is altruistic only on the irrational hypothesis 
that affection and domesticity are not parts of self. To both 
parents, in the primitive state at all events, children are neces 
sary as the support and protection of old age. Beautiful and 
touching parental affection is ; pure altruism it is not. Very ad 
mirable, as a part of man's estate, it is ; but we can hardly accept 
its appearance as a sufficient justification of all that has been 
suffered in the process of evolution or as a solution of the mystery 
of existence. It is curious that Mr. Drummond should place the 
happiest scene of female development and all that depends on it 
in the country where divorces are most common and the increase 
of their number is most rapid. He may have noted, too, that in 
that same country and among higher civilized races families are 
proportionately small and fewer women become mothers. 

Then put the mammalia as high as we will in the scale of 
being, they are mortal. Evolution tells us complacently that 
death is necessary to the progress of the species. It may be so ; 
but what is that to the individual ? The more intense and ex 
alted affection, whether conjugal or parental, is, the more heart 
rending is the thought of the parting which any day and any one 
of a thousand accidents may bring, while it is sure to come after 
a few years. Pleasure and happiness are different things. 
Pleasure may be enjoyed for the moment without any thought of 
the future. The condemned criminal may enjoy it, and, it 
seems, does not uncommonly enjoy it in eating his last meal. 
But happiness appears to be hardly possible without a sense of 
security, much less with annihilation always in sight. The oracle 
to which we are listening has told us nothing about a life beyond 
the present. It is needless to say how much the character of that 


question has been altered since the corporeal origin and relations 
of our mental faculties, and of what theology calls the soul, have 
been apparently disclosed by science. The thought of conscious 
existence without end is one which makes the mind, as it were, 
ache, and under which imagination reels; yet the thought of an 
nihilation is not welcome, nor has it, up to this time, been dis 
tinctly faced by man. If ever it should be distinctly faced, its 
influence on life and action can hardly fail to be felt. Is the 
evolutionary optimist himself content to believe that nothing 
will survive the wreck, inevitable, if science is to be trusted, of 
this world ? 

To say that a particular solution of a difficulty is incomplete 
is not to say that the difficulty is insoluble or even to pronounce 
the particular solution worthless. Mr. Drummond's solution may 
be incomplete, and yet it may have value. The only moral ex 
cellence of which we have any experience or can form a distinct 
idea, is that produced by moral effort. If we try to form an idea 
of moral excellence unproduced by effort, the only result is 
seraphic insipidity. This may seem to afford a glimpse of possi 
ble reconciliation between evolution and our moral instincts. 
If upward struggle towards perfection, rather than perfection 
created by fiat, is the law of the universe, we may see in it, at 
all events, something analogous to the law of our moral nature. 

Mr. Kidd's work was criticised in detail in the last number 
of this REVIEW by the vigorous pen of Mr. Roosevelt. His 
theory is that man owes his progress to his having acted against 
his reason in obedience to a supernatural and extra-rational sanc 
tion of action which is identified with religion. The interest of 
the individual and that of society, Mr. Kidd holds to be radically 
opposed to each other. Reason bids the individual prefer his 
own interest. The supernatural and extra-rational sanction 
'bids him prefer the interest of society, which is assumed to be 
paramount, and thus civilization advances. The practical con 
clusion is that the churches are the greatest instruments of 
human progress. 

What does Mr. Kidd mean by reason ? He appears to regard 
it as a special organ or faculty, capable of being contradicted by 
another faculty, as one sense sometimes for a moment contradicts 
another sense, or as our senses are corrected by our intelligence 


in the case of the apparent motion of the sun. But our reason 
is the sum of all the faculties and powers which lead us to con 
viction or guide us in action. To be misled by it when weak or 
perverted is very possible ; to act consciously against it is not. 
Simeon Stylites obeys it as well as Sardanapalus or Jay Gould. 
He believes, however absurdly, that the Deity accepts the sacri 
fice of self-torture, and that it will be well for the self-torturer in 
the sum of things. His self-torture is therefore in accordance 
with his reason. A supernatural sanction, supposing its reality to 
be proved, becomes a part of the data on which reason acts, or 
rather it becomes, for the occasion, the sole datum; and to obey it, 
instead of being unreasonable, is the most reasonable thing in the 
world. Misled by his reason, we repeat, to any extent a man may 
be, both in matters speculative and practical; but he can no more 
think or act outside of his reason, that is, the entirety of his im 
pressions and inducements, than he can jump out of his skin. 
What Mr. Kidd seems at bottom to mean is that we may and do, 
with the best results, prefer social to individual, and moral to 
material, objects. But this is a totally different thing from acting 
against reason, and while it requires a certain elevation of char 
acter, it requires no extra-rational motive. 

Mr. Kidd speaks of "reason" and the capacity for acting with 
his fellows in society as " two new forces which made their 
advent with man/' He cannot mean, what his words might be 
taken to imply, that the rudiments of reason are not discernible 
in brutes, or that sociability does not prevail in the herd, the 
swarm, and the hive. To the herd, the swarm, and the hive sac 
rifices of the individual animal or insect are made like those of 
the individual man to his community. Is there supernatural or 
extra-rational sanction in the case of the deer, the ant, or the bee? 

Altruism, acting against reason with a supernatural and extra- 
rational sanction, is, according to Mr. Kidd, the motive power 
of progress. But this altruism of which we hear so much, what 
is it? Man is not only a self-regardant, but a sympathetic, do 
mestic, and social being. He is so by nature, just as he is a 
biped or a mammal. How he became so the physiologist and 
psychologist must be left to explain. But a sympathetic, do 
mestic, and social being he is, and in gratifying his sympathetic, 
domestic, or social propensities, he is no more altruistic, if altru 
ism means disregard of self, than he is when he gratifies his 


desire of food or motion. Self is not disregarded because self is 
sympathetic, domestic, and social. The man of feeling identifies 
himself with his kind; the father with his children; the patriot 
with his state ; and they all look in various forms for a return of 
their affection or devotion. The man in each of the cases goes 
out of his narrower self, but he does not go out of self. Show us 
the altruist who gives up his dinner to benefit the inhabitants of 
the planet Mars and we will admit the existence of altruism in 
the sense in which the term seems to be used by Mr. Kidd and 
some other philosophers of to-day. 

Keason, as defined by Mr. Kidd, appears to be a faculty which 
tells us what is desirable, but does not tell us what is possible 
"The lower classes of our population/' he says, "have no sanc 
tion from reason for maintaining existing conditions." " They 
should in self-interest put an immediate end to existing social 
conditions." Why, so they would if they had the power, sup 
posing their condition and the causes of it to be what Mr. Kidd 
represents. It is not altruism that prevents them but necessity ; 
the same necessity which constrains people of all classes to submit 
to evils of various kinds, submission to which, if unnecessary, 
would be idiotic. That poverty and calamity have been endured 
more patiently in the hope of a compensation hereafter is true, 
but makes no difference as to the reasonableness of the endur 
ance. From a comparison of the two sentences just quoted, it 
would appear that Mr. Kidd identifies reason with self-interest, and, 
therefore, with something antagonistic to society. Whereas, in a 
sociable being conformity to the laws of society is reason. " The 
interests of the social organism and of the individual," says Mr. 
Kidd, " are and must remain antagonistic." Why so in the case 
of a man any more than in that of a bee ? 

What is the " supernatural and extra-rational sanction " in 
virtue of which man acts against the dictates of his reason, and 
by so acting makes progress ? Religion. What is religion ? 

" A religion is a form of belief providing an ultra-rational sanction for 
that large class of conduct in the individual where his interests and the 
interests of the social organism are antagonistic, and by which the former 
are rendered subordinate to the latter in the general interests of the evolu 
tion which the race is undergoing," 

Here is a definition of religion without mention of God. The 
supernatural sanction is religion, and religion is a supernatural 


sanction. This surely does not give us much new light. But we 
are further told that " there can never be such a thing as a rational 
religion." Superstition, such as the worship of Moloch, that of 
Apis, that of the gods of Mexico, or mediaeval religion in its de 
based form, is not rational, nor will our calling it supernatural or 
extra-rational make it an influence above nature and reason, or 
prove it to have been the motive power of progress, which, on the 
contrary, it has retarded and sometimes, as in the case of Egypt, 
killed outright. The religions which in their day have been in 
struments of progress, and among which may perhaps be num 
bered, at a grade lower than Christianity, Mohammedanism and 
Buddhism, have owed their character to their rational adaptation 
to human nature and their consecration of rational effort. They 
are counterparts, not of the polytheistic state religion of Greece, 
but of the Socratic philosophy, which had a divinity of its own, 
the impersonation of its morality, and paid homage to the state 
polytheism only by sacrificing a cock to ^Bsculapius. Chris 
tianity, as it came from the lips of Jesus of Nazareth, was, like 
the philosophy of Socrates, unliturgical and unsacerdotal : its 
liturgy was one simple prayer. " Supernatural" is a convenient 
word, but it by implication begs the question, and when applied 
to superstitions is most fallacious. " Inf ranatural," or something 
implying degradation and grossness, not elevation above the 
world of sense, would be the right expression. Christian ethics, 
as distinguished from dogma, are not supernatural; they are drawn 
from, and adapted to, human nature. It is disappointing to find 
that a theorist who makes everything depend on the influence of 
religion should not have attempted to ascertain precisely what 
religion is and what is its origin, or to distinguish from each other 
the widely diverse phenomena which bear the name. His sanc 
tion itself calls for a sanction and calls in vain. 

When a hypothesis will not bear inspection in itself, time is 
wasted in applying it, or testing its applications, to history. But 
Mr. Kidd says of the first fourteen centuries after Christ : 

" So far, fourteen centuries of the history of our civilization had been de 
voted to the growth and development of a stupendous system of other-worldli- 
ness. The conflict against reason had been successful to a degree never before 
equalled in the history of the world. The super-rational sanction of conduct 
had attained a strength and universality unknown in the Roman and Greek 
civilizations. The State was a divine institution. The ruler held his place 
by divine right, and every political office and all subsidiary power issued 
from him in virtue of the same authority. Every consideration of the present 
YOL. CLXI. tfO. 465. 16 


was overshadowed in men's minds by conceptions of a future life, and the 
whole social and political system and the individual lives of men had become 
profoundly tinged with the prevailing ideas." 

Of all the actions by which, mediaeval civilization was moulded 
and advanced, what percentage does Mr. Kidd suppose to have 
been performed under religious influence or from a spiritual mo 
tive ? How many feudal kings and lords how many, even, of 
' the ecclesiastical statesmen of the Middle Ages does he suppose 
to have been carrying on a conflict with reason for objects other 
than worldly and under the inspiration of divine right ? How 
much resemblance to the character of the Founder of Christianity 
would he have found among the rulers and the active spirits of 
the community or even of the Church ? How much among the 
occupants of the Papal throne itself ? 

It has already been pointed out that Mr. Kidd, to say the 
least, overstates his case in saying that Christianity was directly 
opposed by all the intellectual forces of the time. So close was 
the affinity of Koman Stoicism to it that one eminent French 
writer has undertaken to demonstrate the influence of Christianity 
on the writings of the Koman Stoics. But it had also an ally in 
the melancholy of a falling empire and a perishing civilization. 
It had intellectual champions as soon as it had intellectual assail 
ants, and their arguments were addressed to reason. The pessi 
mistic melancholy of a falling empire and the revolt from a de 
crepit polytheism were also intellectual or partly intellectual 
forces on its side. 

In the recent concessions of political power by the upper 
classes to the masses, Mr. Kidd finds an example of altruism 
prevailing over reason. That something has in the course of this 
revolution occasionally prevailed over reason might be very plaus 
ibly maintained. Whether it was anything supernatural or extra- 
rational seems very doubtful. In Great Britain, for instance, the 
extension of the franchise in 1832 was the result of a conflict be 
tween classes and parties carried on in a spirit as far as possible 
from altruistic and pushed to the very verge of civil war. After 
wards, the Whig leader finding himself politically becalmed, 
brought in a new Reform Bill to raise the wind, and was outbid 
by Derby and Disraeli, whose avowed object was to (( dish the 
Whigs." Of altruistic self-sacrifice it would be difficult in the 
whole process to find much trace. 


If this branch of the inquiry were to be pursued, it might be 
worth while for Mr. Kidd to consider the case of Japan, the 
progress of which of late has been so marvellously rapid. It ap 
pears that in Japan, while the lower classes have a superstition at 
once very gross and very feeble, the upper classes, by whom the 
movement has been initiated and carried forward, have no genu 
ine religion, but at most official forms, such as could not sustain 
action against self-interest. 

The cause of human progress has been the desire of man to 
improve his condition, ever ascending as, with the success of his 
efforts, fresh possibilities of improvement were brought within 
his view. It is in* this respect that he differs from the brutes. 
Mechanical evolution and selection by struggle for existence 
apply to man only in his rudimentary state or in his character 
as an animal. Of humanity, desire of improvement is the 
motive power. There is no need, therefore, of importing the 
language, fast becoming a jargon, of evolution into our general 
treatment of history. Bees, ants, and beavers are marvels of 
nature in their way. But they show no desire for improvement, 
and make no efforfc to improve. Man alone aspires. The aspira 
tion is weak in the lower races of men, strong in the higher. Of 
its existence and of the different degrees in which it exists, science 
may be able to give an account. But it certainly is not the off 
spring of unreason, nor can it be aided in any way by supersti 
tion or by any rejection of truth. 

A work on the foundations of religious belief by the leader of a 
party in the British House of Commons, who is by some marked 
out as a future Prime Minister, shows, like the theological and 
cosmogonical essays of Mr. Gladstone, the increasing interest felt 
about the problems, not only by divines and philosophers, but by 
men of the world. In Mr* Balfour's case the union of specula 
tion with politics is the more striking, inasmuch as his work is 
one of abstruse philosophy. It is by metaphysical arguments 
that he undertakes to overthrow systems opposed to religion, and 
to rebuild the dilapidated edifice on new and surer foundations. 
He is thus treading in the steps of Coleridge, the great religious 
philosopher of the English Church. It is to a limited circle of 
readers that he appeals. Ordinary minds find metaphysics et out 
of their welkin," to use the words of the Clown in Twelfth Night. 


They venerate from afar a study which has engaged and still en 
gages the attention of powerful intellects. But they are them 
selves lost in the region in which ff transcendental solipsism " 
has its home. They are unable to see at what definitive conclu 
sions, still more, at what practical conclusions, such as might in 
fluence conduct, philosophy has arrived. Metaphysic seems to 
them to be in a perpetual state of flux. " The theories of the 
great metaphysicians of the past," Mr. Balfour says, ' ' are no con 
cern of ours/' They would surely concern us, however, if, like 
successive schools of science, they had made some real discoveries 
and left something substantial behind them. But as Mr. Bal 
four plaintively tells us, the system of Plato, notwithstanding the 
beauty of its literary vesture, has no effectual vitality ; our debts 
to Aristotle, though immense, "do not include a tenable theory 
of the universe"; in the Stoic metaphysics " nobody takes any 
interest"; the Neo-Platonists were mystics, and in mysticism 
Mr. Balfour recognizes an undying element of human thought, 
but " nobody is concerned about their hierarchy of beings con 
necting through infinite gradations 'the Absolute at one end of 
the scale with matter at the other "; the metaphysics of Descartes 
"are not more living than his physics"; neither "his two 
substances, nor the single substance of Spinoza, nor the innum 
erable substances of Leibnitz satisfy the searcher after truth." 
Had these several systems been investigations of matters in which 
real discovery was possible, each of them surely would have dis 
covered something, and a certain interest in each of them would 
remain. But they have flitted like a series of dreams, or a suc 
cession of kaleidoscopic variations. Mr. Balfour doubts " whether 
any metaphysical philosopher before Kant can be said to have 
made contributions to this subject (a theory of nature) which at 
the present day need to be taken into serious account," and he 
presently proceeds to indicate that " Kant's doctrines, even as 
modified by his successors, do not provide a sound basis for an 
epistemology of nature." Mr. Balfour seems even to think that 
philosophy is in some degree a matter of national temperament. 
He says that the philosophy of Kant and other German philoso 
phers will never be thoroughly received so as to form standards 
of reference in any English-speaking community " until the ideas 
of these speculative giants are thoroughly re-thought by English 
men and reproduced in a shape which ordinary Englishmen will 


consent to assimilate." " Under ordinary conditions," he says, 
" philosophy cannot, like science, become international." This 
seems as much as saying that philosophy is still not a department 
of science, or a real investigation resulting in truths evident to 
all the world alike, but a mode of looking at things which may 
vary with national peculiarities of mind and character. 

Locke, as Mr. Balfour reminds us, toward the end of his great 
work assures his readers that he " suspects that natural philosophy 
is not capable of being made science," and serenely draws from 
his admissions the moral that " as we are so little fitted to frame 
theories about this present world we had better devote our ener 
gies to preparing for the next." Perhaps we might amend the 
suggestion by saying that most of us had better devote our ener 
gies to the search for attainable truth and to the improvement of 
our character and estate in this world as a preparation for the 
world to come. A man so metaphysical in his cast as Emerson is 
obliged to say that we know nothing of nature or of ourselves, 
and that man has not " taken one step towards the solution of the 
problem of his destiny." 

Before the relation of mind and body had been proved, and 
while the mind was supposed to have a divine origin of its own 
and to be a sojourner in the body as a temporary home or prison- 
house, it was perhaps easier to believe, as did the mediaeval phil 
osophers, that in the mind there was a source of knowledge about 
the universe apart from the perceptions of sense, and that the 
world might be studied, not by observation, but by introspection, 
and even through the analysis of language as the embodiment of 
ideas. Transcendental Solipsism and a world constructed out of cat 
egories would, under those conditions, have their day. Something 
of the mediaeval disposition seems to lurk in the effort to demon 
strate that the material world has no existence apart from our 
perceptions. Be this true or not, it can make little difference in 
our theological or spiritual position. The fact must be the same 
in the case of a dog as in the case of a man. 

Most of us, therefore, will be content to look on while Mr. 
Balfour's metaphysical blade, flashing to the right and left, dis 
poses of ' f Naturalism " on the one hand and of Transendentalism 
on the other. We have only to put in a gentle caveat against any 
idea of driving the world back through general scepticism to 
faith. Scepticism, not only general, but universal, is more likely 


to be the ultimate result, and any faith which is not spontaneous, 
whether it be begotten of ecclesiastical pressure or intellectual 
despair, is, and in the end will show itself to be, merely veiled 
unbelief. The catastrophe of Dean Mansel, who, while he was 
trying in the interest of orthodoxy, to cut the ground from under 
the feet of the Kationalist, himself inadvertently demonstrated 
the impossibility of believing in God, was an awful warning to 
the polemical tactician. 

Mr. Balfour gets on more practical ground and comes more 
within the range of general interest when he proceeds to set up 
authority apart from reason as a foundation of theological be 
lief. Above reason authority must apparently be if it is apart 
from it, for wherever authority has established itself reason must 
give way, while it has no means of constraining the submission 
of authority. No one could be less inclined to presumptuous 
rationalism than Butler, who, in his work, which though in par 
tial ruin is still great, with noble frankness accepts reason as our 
only guide to truth. In combating the objections against the 
evidences of Christianity, Butler says that " he expresses himself 
with caution lest he should be mistaken to vilify reason, which is 
indeed the only faculty we have to judge concerning anything, 
even revelation. " What is deference to authority but the deference 
to superior knowledge or wisdom which reason pays, and which, 
if its grounds, intellectual or moral, fail or become doubtful, 
reason will withdraw? This is just as true with regard to the au 
thority of tradition as with regard to that of a living informant 
or adviser ; just as true with regard to the authority of a Church 
as with regard to that of an individual teacher or guide. Au 
thority, Mr. Balfour says, as the term is used by him, " is in all 
cases contrasted with reason and stands for that group of non- 
rational causes, moral, social, and educational, which produces its 
results by psychic processes other than reason." A writer may 
affix to a term any sense he pleases for his personal convenience ; 
but the reasoning of the psychic process of deference to authority, 
though undeveloped, and, perhaps, till it is challenged, uncon 
scious, whether its cause be moral, social, or educative, is capable of 
being presented in a rational form, and cannot, therefore, be rightly 
called non-rational. There is, of course, a sort of authority, or 
what is so styled, which impresses itself by means other than 
rational, such as religious persecution, priestly thaumaturgy, 


spiritual terrorism, or social tyranny. But in this Mr. Balfour 
would not recognize a source of truth or foundation of theological 
belief. A philosopher who proposes to rebuild theology, wholly 
or in part, on the basis of authority, seems bound to provide us 
with some analysis of authority itself, and some test by which 
genuine authority may be distinguished from ancient and vener 
able imposture. Papal infallibility, which Mr. Balfour cites as 
an instance, does undoubtedly postulate the submission of reason 
to authority ; but it proved the necessity of that submission by 
the extermination of the Albigenses and the holocausts of the 
Inquisition. It is still ready, as its Encyclical and Syllabus inti 
mate, to sustain the demonstration by the help of the secular arm. 

So in the case of habit. Our common actions have no doubt 
become by use automatic, as our common beliefs are accepted 
without investigation. But if they are challenged, reasons for 
them can be given. A man eats without thinking, but if he is 
called upon he can give a good reason for taking food. A soldier 
obeys the word of command mechanically, but if he were called 
upon he could give a good reason for his obedience. 

Mr. Balfour scarcely lets us see distinctly what is his view of 
belief in miracles, which must play an important part in any re 
construction or review of the basis of theology, an all-important 
part, indeed, if Paley was right in saying, as he did in reply to 
Hume, that there was no way other than miracle in which God 
could be revealed. He seems inclined to represent the objections 
to them as philosophical rather than historical, and such as a 
sounder philosophy may dissipate, intimating that rationalists 
have approached the inquiry with a predetermination " to force the 
testimony of existing records into conformity with theories on the 
truth or falsity of which it is for philosophy not history to pro 
nounce/' This might be said with some justice of Strauss's first 
Life of Jesus , and perhaps of some other German philosophies of 
the Gospel history. But the current objections to miracles, with 
which a theologian has to deal, are clearly of a historical kind. 
A miracle is an argument addressed through the sense to the un 
derstanding, which pronounces that the thing done is super 
natural and proof of the intervention of a higher power. It 
seems inconceivable, if the salvation -of the world were to depend 
on belief in miracles, that Providence should have failed to pro 
vide records for the assurance of those who were not eye-witnesses 


equal in certainty to the evidence afforded eye-witnesses by sense. 
Are the records of the miracles which we possess unquestionably 
authentic and contemporaneous ? Were the reporters beyond all 
suspicion, not only of deceit, but of innocent self-delusion ? 
Were they, looking to the circumstances of their time and their 
education, likely to be duly critical in their examination of the 
case ? Is there any thing in the internal character of the miracles 
themselves, the demoniac miracles for example, to move suspicion, 
it being impossible to think that Providence would allow indis 
pensable evidences of vital truth to be stamped with the marks of 
falsehood ? What is the weight of the adverse evidence derived 
from the silence of external history and the apparent absence of 
the impression which might have been expected to be made by 
prodigies such as miraculous darkness and the rising of the dead 
out of their graves ? These questions, daily pressed upon us by 
scepticism, are strictly historical, and will have to be treated by 
restorers of theological belief on strictly historical grounds. 

Mr. Balfour recognizes mysticism as an " undying element in 
human thought." That it is not yet dead is evident. Minds not 
a few have taken refuge in various forms of it. But undying it 
surely is not. The mystic, however exalted, merely imposes on 
himself. He creates by a subtle sophistication of his own mind 
the cloudy object of his faith and worship. He had himself writ 
ten his Book of Mormon, and hidden it where he found it. In 
that direction there can be no hope of laying the foundation of a 
new theological belief. 

There can be no hope, apparently, of laying new foundations 
for a rational theology in any direction excepting that of the 
study of the universe and of humanity as manifestations of the 
supreme power in that spirit of thorough-going intellectual hon 
esty of which Huxley, who has just been taken from us, is truly 
said to have been an illustrious example. That we are made and 
intended to pursue knowledge is as certain as that we are made 
and intended to strive for the improvement of our estate, and we 
cannot tell how far or to what revelations the pursuit may lead 
us. If revelation is lost to us manifestation remains, and great 
manifestations appear to be opening on our view. Agnos 
ticism is right, if it is a counsel of honesty, but ought not to be 
heard if it is a counsel of despair. 




THE introduction of gunpowder created a revolution in the art of war 
which has developed for the military student some interesting and curious 
facts. Before then, physical strength and endurance were absolute requi 
sites of an accomplished soldier. The great captains of those days, upon 
every available opportunity, practised their men in such athletic sports as 
would make them most proficient with the weapons they used. The 
Roman soldiers during the long period of their military supremacy had for 
their principal weapon a short heavy sword, with which they rushed into a 
hand to hand conflict with the enemy. Their athletic training and dis 
ciplined valor carried victory with them for hundreds of years and main 
tained their supremacy in arms, till luxury and dissipation rendered them 
an easy victim to their more hardy conquerors from the North. Ancient 
traditions are clung to most persistently in the selection of military weap 
ons. In modern cavalry armament, we find the sabre and lance, a modifica 
tion of the ancient sword and spear, adhered to with a pertinacity for 
which it is difficult to account on rational grounds. Let us fancy two sol 
diers in the mounted service,'equally brave, one thoroughly trained to handle 
the sabre and the other an accomplished revolver shot. Station them one 
hundred yards apart and let them advance toward each other at any gait, 
with hostile intent. Can any one for an instant expect but one result that 
the man with the sabre shall certainly be destroyed before he can arrive 
within striking distance of his enemy ? Suppose we made the number a thou 
sand ; is there any ground to suppose the result would differ materially in 
illustrating the superiority of the revolver over the sabre ? To exemplify this 
in another form ; let us suppose, that a sabre cut over the head, or a thrust 
through the body, is equal to a wound from a revolver bullet : and for the 
sake of argument we will allow the man with the sabre, to arrive within ten 
feet of his enemy with the revolver ; we will assume that ten seconds are 
required for a "sabreur" to successfully carve one man and get within 
striking distance, about three and a half or four feet, of another. We know 
that it is a very ordinary feat for a good revolver shot, mounted, to fire five 
shots in five seconds and hit a mark the size of a man, every time, at a dis 
tance of ten feet, and this with his horse at a full run. The reverence with 
which we cling to arms ancient might make a wise soldier laugh, were 
its effects not so pernicious, as sometimes, to make a good soldier weep. 
Our recent civil war developed some excellent ctkalry officers on both sides, 
and in the opinion of many competent judges, General Ouster was second to 
none. For some time previous to 1876 he commanded the Seventh Cavalry in 
various Indian campaigns. Being full of energy and ambition, it is reason- 


able to suppose lie trained his troopers with all the judgment and skill 
derived from his extensive experience. The sabre was the recognized 
cavalry weapon, and at that time, our cavalry officers gave little or no 
attention to mounted fire. In 1876 we find a portion of this cavalry, under 
General Custer, numbering about three hundred of his best troops, engaged 
with hostile Sioux and Cheyennes. 

These Indian warriors had been brought up on horseback and trained 
from boyhood to use firearms mounted. The battle took place upon an open 
and gently undulating country near the Little Horn River, and not a single 
white man was left to clear the mystery which shrouded the details of 
the engagement. About two years subsequent to this event, the writer be 
came well acquainted with some of the Sioux and Cheyennes engaged in 
this fight against the Seventh Cavalry, and after much difficulty they were 
induced to describe the details of the action. Three of these Indians at dif 
ferent times gave their versions of the battle, and their accounts did not 
vary in material points. They said the Indians charged upon the cavalry, 
firing their rifles and pistols, and that the action lasted about half an hour. 
Thirty-five or forty Indians were killed, and they believed most of the casu- 
alities were due to the Indians shooting one another, as they attacked the 
cavalry on both flanks at the same time. 

They said that the cavalry horses were so terrified by the yells, shooting 
and appearance of the warriors that the soldiers had all they could do to 
keep their seats, that many of them were thrown, and that they did little 
execution among the savages. It must be remembered that up to this 
time our cavalry had received little or no training with the revolver, and 
that the Indians outnumbered the cavalry, three or four to one. Had 
the latter known how to handle their revolvers, they would have sent many 
times their own number to the happy hunting ground. 

Toward the close of our late unpleasantness the central part of Missouri 
was infested by a body of men claiming to belong to the Southern Army, 
under a leader named Bill Anderson. These men had for their sole ar 
mament from four to six revolvers each and were mounted upon the best 
horses the country afforded. For about a week they were camped in a pas 
ture near the house where the writer, then a boy, lived, and we had a number 
of opportunities to observe their occupation. They spent several hours each 
day at mounted pistol practice, putting their horses at a full run and shoot 
ing at trees or fence posts. Some of them would, at times, vary this practice 
by taking the bridle reins in their teeth and firing a revolver from each 
hand. As we remember, their shooting was excellent. A few months later, 
a body of cavalry, variously estimated at from 300 to 250, were landed by the 
railroad at Centralia, Mo., to operate against Bill Anderson and his 
men. The country around this railroad station is an almost perfectly level 
prairie. This cavalry had proceeded but two or three miles from their land 
ing place when they encountered the enemy. Anderson formed a skirmish 
line and charged, some of his men taking the bridle reins in their teeth and 
a revolver in each hand. The affair was soon ended. Of the 200 or 250 men 
only ten escaped with their lives ; the others were laid out over the prairie 
for a distance of several miles. Anderson lost only five or six men. 

So far as we can learn, little progress has been made by the cavalry of 
European armies in mounted revolver shooting, owing to the fact that they 
lack a knowledge of the art and that they have too much respect for ancient 
traditions. The military establishment of our country has reached a much 


higher state of efficiency in the use of firearms than that of any other 

This is due to the liberal appropriations of Congress for target practice, 
the knowledge and skill of our officers in revolver and rifle shooting, and the 
facility with which they impart this most valuable of all military accom 
plishments to the enlisted men. 

For many centuries the theory and practice amongst civilized nations 
has been to train cavalry to act by the collective shock ; that is, to develop no 
individuality, but to have them ride boot to boot, in a solid mass with drawn 
sabres and with an irresistible force, so as to overwhelm all in front of them . 
With the individuality now to be found in the foot soldier of an ordinary skir 
mish line, such a mass of cavalry would be destroyed, or rendered useless 
before they could arrive within two hundred yards of the objective point. 
The modern cavalry soldier should be trained to the highest degree of indi 
vidual excellence in the management of his horse and revolver ; he should 
be armed with a carbine and at least two revolvers, and have the useless, 
clanking and antiquated sabre consigned to some spot from which it could 
have no resurrection. The cavalryman should be practised with the revol 
ver till he could fire five shots in four seconds, and be able to hit, two out of 
three times, an object the size of a man, at a distance of ten yards, with 
horse at a full run. To one not familiar with revolver shooting this may 
seem a difficult thing to do, and it may appear to require too high a stand 
ard of excellence from the average cavalry soldier, but it must be remem. 
bered that revolver shooting is like many other physical accomplishments : 
it is learned much more rapidly when the instruction is carried on according 
to some correct system. The exercises of the recruit, while he is learning to 
ride and handle his horse, should be varied by at least two hours' work each 
day, devoted to handling and snapping his revolver on foot, so that the cor 
rect execution of these exercises may become mechanical; in other words, 
the recruit should be trained to bring his pistol to bear upon an object and hit 
it without any perceptible time being spent in taking aim and pulling 
the trigger. Ours is an age of specialists, and it is seldom that one is found 
who can reach the highest degree of excellence in more than one mechanical 
art. When this skill is once attained in using a revolver, there is ever 
a good demand for its services, and the confidence and courage which its 
possession is certain to give to our cavalry soldier will make him brave and 
self-reliant to an extent which will render him on the field of battle more 
than a match for five times his number of the best cavalry the old world 
has ever seen. 

W. P. HALL, 

Major and Assistant Adjutant-General ; late Captain Fifth 
United States Cavalry. 


IP we accept the oldest writings concerning the subject, we must con 
cede that the first costume worn by primitive man and woman was selected 
only after a consultation of the two sexes. It is a curious fact that after 
centuries of groping in the blind labyrinths of dress, women are returning 
in some measure toward primitive ideas and conditions. They are just 
beginning to appreciate the aid of men in matters of this sort. 

The increase of liberty that women enjoy in this latter decade or two, 
their entrance into the realm of men's occupations, and their consequent 


desire for greater freedom in dress, make it a hard matter, under these 
scarcely-adjusted conditions, to draw the line between masculine likes and 
dislikes as to dress reform. It may be stated emphatically, however, that 
almost all men abominate all forms of woman's attire that merely aim to be 
"mannish," that are adopted only for the sake of making a "smart" 
appearance. Mannish collars, vests, hats, neckties, etc., when worn by 
women, almost always create a revulsion of feeling in a man by impairing 
that femininity in appearance which must always be one of the greatest 
charms of womanhood. 

^At the same time men would gladly encourage women in their natural 
right to adopt such modifications as would give them greater freedom 
for exercise or business pursuits, and consequently greater health. There 
was great fear among the timid that the adoption of the modern 
bicycling costumes would subject the wearer to vulgar comment, or at least 
insufferable stares, from men. The fact is that women stare at and criticise 
their progressive sisters more than men do. 

Men do not object in the least to their wives, or sisters, or daughters, 
wearing " gym " suits for athletics, divided skirts or Turkish trousers for 
bicycling, or even for business, so long as the touch of femininity, of mod 
esty, is never lost in the making of such costumes. The man does not con 
cern himself with details about such garments, but he looks for that 
roundness, as opposed to angularity ; that grace, be it of a fluffy wing, or a 
ruffle, or gather ; that little adornment, a touch of color, ribbon, flowing 
outline, that shall proclaim at once the sweetness and preciousness of 

Men naturally wish to pay, and do pay, the greatest deference to woman 
hood, even in the crowded business life of New York City, but they demand 
in return that women shall dress so as to suggest unmistakable womanliness. 

As we are all striving to attain to Altrurian conditions we need to study 
the matter of dress from the very base and beginning. Science is now only 
content to go to the very bottom of things, and, discarding all custom and 
tradition, demands a reason for everything. So it should be with dress. 
Men and women are different. Therefore their dress should be different. 
But as their spheres of activity are becoming more and more closely allied, 
so their dress should permit equal freedom of movement and .equal health. 
A beautiful statue, be it the cruelly amputated Venus of Milo, or the 
Medici, or the Greek Slave, almost all of us, except some singular back- 
country spinster, unite in saying needs no adornment. But it would be a 
good practice to take that statue and dress it, not according to the prevail 
ing mode, but according to thev demands of the figure, that, being itself 
beautiful, its beauty should not be lost, but in some degree preserved, if not 
enhanced by its dress. A company of art critics would dress it in the flow 
ing robes of ancient Greece. At the same time a committee of doctors or 
disciples of physical culture might not grant it any more drapery than has 
the Diana of St. Gaudens on the Madison Square tower. 

It should be a recognized principle that beauty of figure is not to be hid 
den or lost by means of dress. There is no need to distort the art of the Cre 
ator by the art of the milliner. If a woman has a beautiful throat, she has a 
perfect right to reveal it, except when she runs a risk of taking cold. Almost 
every woman has some good feature. Let her make the most of it. Be it 
beauty of eyes or hair, or complexion, beauty of stature, of strength, of 
arm or limb, dress should enhance it. 


The gain, for instance, that would accrue to the race in the way of in 
creased health and happiness, and lessened pain and doctors' bills, if the 
average skirt was cut ten inches shorter, would be tremendous. By that 
one simple surgical stroke of the scissors, quick and painless, think how 
many hundreds of tons of mud-bedraggled dry-goods would drop from the 
overweighted hips of womanhood 1 But the very women who abbreviate the 
corsage of their opera-dresses to an equal extent would shrink at the display 
of a well-turned ankle. Yet the former practice is far more vulnerable to 
criticism than the one we would advocate. It must be kept in mind that a 
style of dress that encourages physical development is not designed alone 
for women of fine physique. Its popularity would lead all women to covet 
health and symmetry of form and to work for it by all the proper agencies 
of diet, exercise, sleep and sensible living generally. It has been an old 
grievance of our fathers and grandfathers that it took a fearfully sharper 
eye to select a good woman than a good horse. And when they so often got 
cheated on a horse, is it a wonder that millions of men have filled bachelors' 
graves ? A bachelor's grave is a cold thing to look forward to, but many 
have thought that it was preferable to taking a chance in that lottery where 
the diamonds and the booby-prizes, the Venuses and the viragoes, have all 
been concealed in a maze of crinoline and whalebone, cotton, powder and 
paint. Who could know whether the beautiful maiden or the ugly dwarf 
would step forth on the night of disenchantment ? We gladly testify that 
our fin-de-si^cle daughters are dressing in some respects with greater good 
taste and fidelity to common sense, truth, health, the laws as well as the 
lines of their own physique, than did their grandmothers. 

Of course there is a dress for children, a dress for the young, for the old, 
for the invalid. We kindly drape the angles and the weaknesses in the loved 
forms where age has set its wrinkled seal over the once virgin stamp of 
beauty. Yet old age, too, has its beauties, and its fitting adornment. 
It is among the ranks of the women themselves that there is the great 
est objection to new ideas. Speaking for men, it may be said that 
they consider themselves fortunate in a dress that is fairly easy and 
healthful, if not pleasing from an artistic standpoint. In their good 
fortune they do not begrudge to women any modifications of their 
attire on which they can set the stamp of true femininity and add grace and 
artistic effect to what is merely practical. Whatever makes for greater 
health and comfort to women is not a matter of indifference to the stern sex, 
however they may seem to leave the women to work out their own salvation 
with fear and trembling. There will be no more hearty plaudits to 
the successful solver of the dress reform problem than will come from 
the "men's gallery." Ahasuerus is still gracious, and Esther need never 
fear but that she will find favor in his sight in any sort of modest garb 

On one detail of dress I think I can speak with confidence, and that is, it 
makes no difference in a man's eye what material a dress is made of. You 
can please him just as well in calico as in silk, and perhaps better, if he has 
to pay the bills. " It is all in the making," is a phrase tjiat means much to 
men. They like symmetry, grace, harmony of colors, perfect fit. For one 
man that will be dazzled by purple and gold there are a dozen who will be 
charmed by quiet grays or browns, relieved by a bright ribbon and a bright 
face. " Back to nature " is the cry of this logical, matter-of-fact and yet 
impressionable age ; and learning of nature, and of her garments of leaves 


and grass and snow, we shall see how closely she clothes her forms, only 
softening the outlines, selects her quiet harmonies of colors rather than 
glaring contrasts, and covers nothing from sight that is of itself beautiful. 



EDMOND ABOUT, in one of his last contributions to the Revue de Deux 
Mondes, suggested that the political history of several nations could be 
written in the form of a compendium of national epigrams and vaudevilles 
a sort of facetious ditties in which the French are rivalled only by their 
Italian neighbors. 

A collection of historical nicknames would, however, serve the same pur 
pose in a still more compendious form. There are sobriquets that sum up all 
the physical and moral characteristics of an individual and sometimes of a 
party or even a whole nation. " What are the main tendencies of your ' Lib 
erals' and 'Serviles,' as your Highness has begun to call them ? " a German 
politician asked Prince de Ligne, the Austrian Chesterfield. " Well, you see, 
our Serviles want sehrvieles (a good many things), but our Liberals want 
lieber alles" (rather everything), said the keenwitted courtier. 

When the braggard Bernadotte had got himself elected Crown Prince of 
Sweden, he did his best to propitiate public opinion all around, assumed the 
name of Charles Jean, loaded foreign diplomatists with decorations, and 
offered his services as mediator between France and the victorious allies, but 
his old companions in arms had sized him up to an inch and nicknamed him 
' ' Charles Jean Charlatan. ' ' Complacent King Joseph they called ' * le roi par 
ordre" and the depredations of General Vandamme were commemorated in 
the epithet "Jacques Brigand" "Billy Bushwhacker," as we might translate 
it. For Napoleon himself his soldiers had only affectionate nicknames : 
" The Little Corporal," "Little Wideawake " ; but Madame de Stael in a fit 
of resentment called him "Robespierre on horseback" (Robespierre d 
cheval), and the nickname stuck like the pun of that Ghent Alderman who 
bribed the retail butchers of his city (locally known as les petits bouchers} to 
get up a transparency with the inscription : " The little butchers of Ghent 
to Napoleon the Great." 

The "Grand Butcher" was not apt to forgive a personal squib of that kind, 
but nevertheless almost choked with laughing when Count Las Cases at 
Longwood ventured to acquaint him with the popular nickname of his royal 
brother-in-law, Murat. The parvenu King of Naples was incorrigibly fond 
of dressing in theatrical finery, gold-lace jackets with broad lace collars and 
blue velvet surtouts, and in allusion to that foible the Parisian wits called 
him " King Franconi, " Franconi's Opera being a flashy pleasure resort of 
the French capital. Louis XVIII. they called ' ' Gros Revenue, ' ' to commemo 
rate a high treasonable pun of a witty Imperialist, who had heard his com 
rades complain of the enormous taxes of the new regime. "Never mind, 
payons, payons, nous avons un gros revenu " we have a large revenue 
the three last words meaning also " a returned potbelly." After the battle 
of Waterloo they called their wellfed sovereign "Louis deux fois neuf," 
"twice nine, "with the additional meaning of "twice new." Those puns 
had much to do with the final expulsion of the Bourbons, and it might be 
questioned if all the speeches of the Jacobins hurt the cause of the royal 
family as much as the Queen's nickname, * ' Madame Veto. " That those same 


Jacobins were capable of self -banter is, however, proved by their sobriquet 
of the frivolous cut-throat Barere, " the Anacreon of the Guillotine." 

With a similar humor the wits of the Napoleonic era called the flunkey 
naturalist Lac6pede (a great authority on snakes), "The chef of the 
reptiles." " The Deity rested after the creation of Napoleon the Great," the 
eloquent professor concluded one of his characteristic speeches. " A pity 
that the Deity did not rest then a little sooner," said the Count de Nar- 
bonne. As a rule the Imperialists would not permit the humorists of any 
other nation to quiz their new made potentates, but they could not help en 
dorsing the verdict of the tax-burdened Hessians who called their profligate 
king (Brother Je'rdme) "Koenig Don Juan." 

In the Crown Prince phase of his existence, Kaiser Wilhelm, the victor 
of Sadowa and Sedan, had made himself so unpopular that the Berliners 
called him the Kartdtschen Prinz (the grape-and-canister Prince, and de 
molished his metropolitan palace. Voltaire, after his Prussian experiences, 
could not revenge himself in that manner, but contrived to saddle old Fritz 
with the sobriquet of "Luc" originally the name of a mischievous and 
highly irascible baboon which a French traveller had presented to the Phil 
osopher of Ferney. The brother of the Canister Prince had a constitu 
tional horror of gunpowder, and worshipped Bacchus rather to the neglect 
of Mars, but was so affable to interviewers of all parties that he got off 
with the nickname of " Champagne Freddie " (Der Champagner Fritz). All 
in all, he was about the easiest-going King that ever contrived to maintain 
himself on a storm-tossed throne, and when the Burgomaster of a rather 
democratic Rhineland city presented him with a bumper of wine, "war 
ranted as pure as our citizens' loyalty to your royal house," his majesty 
merely held the glass against the light and whispered: " Vintage of Forty- 
eight ? "the year of the Rhenish insurrection. 

He knew his nickname, and connived at the public banter of his foibles 
with a philosophical tolerance entirely foreign to the character of one of 
his successors, whose subjects have never yet ventured to translate the 
London-made sobriquet of "Billy Bombastes." Marechal Blucher took 
part in a debate on the best way of translating Napoleon's favorite nick 
name of the bibulous leader of the Prussian cavalry, and finally voted that 
" Der versoffene Husar" (the drunken old Hussar) would come the nearest 
to a good fit. 

" I know what they call me," said the Calabrian robber-chief, who had 
baffled Murat's rangers for eighteen months, "but I would much sooner be 
known as 'Fra Diavolo ' (Friar Satan) than as Fra Sanducho Brother hypo 
crite " ; and it is probable that the remorseless representative of the Borgias 
would have rather prided himself on the title of " Cardinal Mephistopheles." 
The Venetians can compete with the wits of the French metropolis in the 
manufacture of telling nicknames, and a lady whom Napoleon in his con 
sular days had pronounced the best-looking female of Southern Europe 
was ever after known as " La Bella par decreto ma' sin il verendo " the 
beauty by special cabinet order but without the "verendo" ("Seeing," i. c., 
*' whereas," the initial phrase of an official decree); and when Maria Theresa 
ordered some nude Italian statues to be draped in nether garments, the 
sculptor revenged himself by calling her la calzonerafhe "pantaloon 
maker." The good-natured empress laughed at the conceit as heartily as 
her great son at his sobriquet, der Kloster Hetzerthe " convent cleaner " 
(the cleaner-out of superfluous monasteries), and Marshal Vend6me used to 


say that he would forfeit all his titles sooner than his nickname, " General 
Bonhomme." With #11 bis cynicisms, he was, indeed, Bonhommie person 
ified, and once pardoned a petty marauder for the sake of his ready wit. 
" So they are going to hang you ? Serves you right ; only a scoundrel will 
risk his life for ten francs." " Ah, mon general, how often had I to risk my 
life for ten coppers," (the daily pay of a French soldier) said the delinquent, 
and was at once dismissed with a laugh and the admonition to " keep his 
neck greased for the next time." The slang-loving old campaigner had a 
vein of pathos, too, and in his last moment, when a friend tried to draw the 
stiff curtains of his Spanish chateau, to keep the moon from shining in the 
sick room, the dying veteran beckoned him to desist: " Laissez-?a ; je 
vois la grande ombre de VEtemitequi s'avance" "Never mind; the shadow 
of eternity is going to save you that trouble in a minute or two." 

The subjects of the late Czar called him in his Crown Prince days the 
"Young Steer," and afterwards simply "the Steer," and the Army of 
the Potomac is said to have very privately applied a similar sobriquet 
to a general who confessed that he " never manoeuvred," and certainly 
preferred headlong charges to elaborate tactics. Some Berlin journalists 
who had seen him on his tour de monde, called him der Nussknacker Gen 
eral^ in allusion to a silent automaton that is placed upon German ban 
quet tables together with a plate of hazelnuts, but added that he had 
unquestionably contrived to crack some nuts that had broken the teeth 
of all other comers. 

The soldiers of the first Napoleon embellished the accounts of their 
campaigns with a vocabulary of historic geographical nicknames : " Capu 
chin-Land " for Spain, " Knoutland," for the dominions of the Czar, " Mas 
tiff land" for Great Britain, and "Big-wig land" (terre des perruques) 
for Prussia. But their exploits in that special field have been rather 
eclipsed by the achievements of American humor ; witness the following list 
offacetice that was collected at a recent convention of commercial travellers : 

British Columbia, "The Drizzle Land"; Maine, "The Foggy State"; 
Vermont, "The Clabber State"; Massachusetts, "The Schoolmar'm State"; 
New Jersey, "The Mosquito State"; Delaware, "The Cowhide State"; 
Pennsylvania, "The Blue Law State"; Ohio, "The Lobby State" (Kins 
men of Orpheus C. Kerr in force) ; Kentucky, " The Shotgun State " ; Indian 
Territory, " The Horse-thief Reserve " ; Kansas, " The Howler State " ; Ar 
kansas, "The Quinine State" ; Mississippi, " The Ku-klux State" ; Tennes 
see, " The Moonshine State " ; South Carolina, " The Congo State " (prepon 
derance of Ethiopian elements); North Carolina, "The Granny State"; 
California, "The Boodle State"; Texas, "The Rowdy State "; Colorado, 
"The Growler State"; the Dakatos, "Blizzard Land"; Indiana, "The 
White Cap State" ; Mexico, " Bushwhacker Land." 








WHETHER we like it or not, the question of giving the ballot 
to women is a question to be faced. From the last Legislature 
of the State of New York favorable action was secured on the 
proposal to submit to popular vote the omission of the word 
"male "from the qualification of voters in the Constitution. 
This is of course only tentative and preliminary. Another Legis 
lature must pass the law before it can be submitted to the people. 
But it behooves men and women who are opposed to it to be 
awake to the duty of hindering its further progress. And it is 
quite worth while to note how this first step was secured. 

The story of the action of the Constitutional Convention 
upon this subject is familiar. The proposal, backed by monster 
petitions, was brought to the Convention at a very early day. 
With praiseworthy aud untiring perseverance, its advocates fairly 
swarmed in the Capitol. Hearing after hearing was given, and 
the button-holes of members were absolutely worn out by the per 
sistence of personal appeals. The committee to which it was 
referred was a large, able, and intelligent committee. Hours, 
both of day and night, were given to the public arguments, in 
cluding a single hearing (the only one asked for) of the repre 
sentatives on the other side. And after due and thorough delib- 
VOL. CLXI. NO, 466. 17 

Copyright, 1895, by LLOYD BKTOB. All rights rsrved. 


eration, an adverse report was made by the committee, which 
was, after full debate, accepted by a large majority vote. It is 
certainly not too much to say that such a decision, reached after 
such deliberations, in such a body, has and ought to have the 
greatest weight. 

The opposite result last winter was reached in a very different 
way. The movement upon the Legislature was cleverly planned, 
and quietly executed by personal influence and appeal, with no 
hearing whatever in the Assembly, and with only one hearing in 
the Senate, held after the whole matter was known to be a fore 
gone conclusion; a sufficient number of votes having been secured 
by personal pledges to make the passage of the bill sure. This is a 
well-known method among politicians, which hardly rises to the 
level of high-minded statesmanship. If it indicates the kind of 
political manipulation likely to be adopted, in caucuses and at the 
polls, in popular assemblies and legislative halls, by what is com 
monly called the "new" woman or the "coming" woman, it will 
certainly induce most thinking people to feel that "the old is 
better/' and to be thankful that yet awhile, at any rate, the new 
woman has not come. I think I am hardly betraying any con 
fidence in repeating the argument of a famous suffragist leader, 
tried upon Mr. Choate before his election as President of the 
Constitutional Convention. "I hear you are to be President of 
the Constitutional Convention," she said. "Possibly," "If you 
are, you will have the appointment of committees?" "Undoubt 
edly." "If you do, I want you to appoint on the committee to 
consider woman's suffrage, a majority of members known to be in 
favor of it." "But," he said, "supposing I find in the Conven 
tion a large majority opposed to it, could I make up a committee 
with a majority of its members in favor?" "No" she said: "I 
suppose you could not, but that is what we want." And all 
through the management of this campaign the appeal has been 
made, backed often by no other argument than "we want it," to 
the gallantry of a man towards a woman. 

It seems important, in view of the renewed effort in Albany 
this coming winter, to appeal to the sober-minied thought of 
men and women ; to omit rhetoric, oratory, abuse, misrepresen 
tation, and ask for a serious consideration of a subject, certainly 
fraught with grave and serious consequences ; for anything that 
touches the ballot touches the foundations of government. 


Among the difficulties which beset the whole question now are 
the indifference and listlessness, or the frivolity and trifling with 
which in too many instances it is regarded. Many a man says: 
" Oh ! let the experiment be tried ; it cannot succeed ; it will do 
no harm to pay women the courtesy of this complimentary vote, 
and then defeat it at the polls." But this is an experiment too 
much like playing with fire to be safe. Once granted, it can 
never be recalled. And the risk of random voting on matters of 
such importance is too great to be run. Many a woman opposed 
to the measure feels that the whole thought of signing petitions, 
and having her name printed, and appealing to the Legislature, is 
so distasteful to her, that she would prefer to take the chance of 
probable failure. Meanwhile, the advocates pile up petitions, 
and multiply unmeaning names. Many a man trifles with his 
responsibility, under the silly idea that it is ungallant to say 
"No" to a woman. And many a woman laughs at the whole 
matter as a joke, mixed up with bicycles and bloomers, and a 
number of other trivial questions which have no remotest relation 
to the principle involved. 

Let us look fairly and squarely at the facts. There is one 
class of women to be eliminated from the discussion, because 
they fly into a " frenzy" which is not "fine," mistake abuse for 
argument, and are only vulgarly violent, with sharp tongues or 
sharper pens saturated with bitterness and venom. They are, if 
there were only such as these, their own best answerers, furnish 
ing sufficient reason against the movement. There is another 
class which includes members of both sexes, with whom one can 
not deal without sacrificing self-respect or reverence, who revile 
all that one holds in holiest veneration, Holy Scripture, holy 
Matrimony, St. Paul, even our dear Lord Himself. How rev 
erent and religious women can cast their lot in with a cause which 
has this drift in it is inconceivable; and yet some of them do so. 
One has neither need nor desire to make reply to such as these. 
They may be safely left, when the sediment has gathered at the 
bottom, and shows through the quietness of the settled surface, 
to their own condemnation. 

But the cause has among its adherents and advocates a very 
different class of women and men, to whose sober second thought 
it is worth while to appeal, and against whose specious but sin 
cere reasonings others need to be warned and guarded. It is 


because of these, and of their reasonings, that this paper is writ 
ten. It is not intended to argue the underlying principles of 
the case, which have been argued abundantly already, but only 
to assert them. 

1. Suffrage is not a right of anybody. It is a privilege 
granted by the constitution to such persons as the framers of 
the constitution and the founders of the government deem best. 

2. The old political proverb, "No taxation without repre 
sentation," is utterly inapplicable to this question. It grew out 
of the tyrannical action of a government "across the sea," in 
which no one of all the people on whom the tax was levied had 
the faintest voice in the framing of the laws or in the choice of 
the government. We may be said to have in this country a great 
deal of representation without taxation, because, in thousands of 
instances, voters, and indeed the very men who impose the tax, 
own no property at all. But women who are taxed are represented 
by their relatives, by their potent influence, and by men's sense of 
justice, amounting even to chivalry, which the woman suffragists 
are doing all they can to destroy, but which has secured to them 
far more protection, far more independent control of their prop 
erty, than men have reserved to themselves. The complement 
and object of taxation is not the right to vote, but the protection 
of property. And women's property is better protected than 

3. Equality does not mean identity of duties, rights, privi 
leges, occupations. The sex differences are proof enough of this. 
The paths in which men and women are set to walk are parallel, 
but not the same. And the equilibrium of society cannot be 
maintained, nor the equipoise of the body, unless this is recog 
nized. As St. Paul put it forcibly long ago : " If the whole body 
were hearing, where were the smelling ? " Over-stocked profes 
sions, men and women crowding each other in and out of occu 
pation, neglected duties, responsibilities divided until they are 
destroyed, must be the result if this unnatural idea be enforced. 

4. The theory of increased wages for women, to be secured by 
giving votes to women-workers, is equally preposterous. Wages, 
like work, are regulated by the unfailing law of supply and 
demand. Work cannot be created, and wages cannot be forced 
up. If there are too many workers there will be less employment 
and lower pay. 


These are some of the fundamental and axiomatic truths of 
the argument. 

It is important, too, to guard against the specious method of 
mixing up things that have no relation to each other. A man or 
a woman who opposes the forcing of the ballot upon women is 
classed with the people who dislike female bicyclists and the 
bloomer costume questions of taste about which we may differ, 
but which lie upon the lower plane of aesthetics. The unattrac- 
tiveuess of an u^ly dress or an ungraceful movement may repel a 
man's feelings and lessen the charm of a woman, but there it 
ends. Women may ride bicycles and wear bloomers without 
violating any political principle, provided they neither ride on 
the one, nor walk in the other, to the polls. 

It is still more important to draw another distinction. The 
slavery of American women exists only in the warped imagina 
tions and heated rhetoric of a few people, who have screamed 
themselves hoarse upon platforms or written themselves into a 
rage in newspapers. There is no freer human being on earth 
to-day, thank God, than the American woman. She has freedom 
of person, of property, and of profession, absolute and entire. 
She has all liberty that is not license. 

Let a woman tell the facts. I quote from one of Mrs. Schuy- 
ler Van Rensselaer's admirable papers in the .New York World: 

" For more than thirty years all the women of New York have been able 
to enjoy their own property, whether inherited or acquired, without control 
or interference from any man. A married woman may carry on a trade, 
business, or profession and keep her earnings for herself alone. She may 
sue and be sued and make contracts as freely and independently as an un 
married woman or a man. She may sell or transfer her real as well as her 
personal property just as she chooses. And she is not liable for her husband's 
debts or obliged to contribute to his support. Meanwhile, a husband is 
obliged to support his wife and children. He is liable for the price of all 
4 necessaries ' purchased by her, and for money borrowed by her for their 
purchase ; and ' necessaries ' are liberally construed as * commensurate with 
her husband's means, her wonted living as his spouse, and her station in the 

" A man who obtains a divorce cannot ask for alimony ; a woman who 
obtains one is entitled to it, and to continue to receive it even if she re 
marries. A woman in business cannot be arrested in an action for a debt 
fraudulently contracted, as a man may be. Every woman enjoys certain 
exemptions from the sale of her property under execution, but only a man who 
has and provides for a household or family is exempt in the same way. A 
woman is entitled to one-third of her husband's real estate at his death, and 
cannot be deprived of it by will ; and no real estate can be sold by him dur- 
his lifetime unless she signr, c *? this dower right. A husband's right to a 


portion of his wife's property begins only after the birth of a living child, 
and even then she need not have his consent to sell it during her lifetime, 
and may deprive him of it altogether by will." 

While one "forbears threatenings," it is worth while to wonder 
whether this would go on if the relations of the sexes to each other 
were changed. Courtesies that are compelled by law would soon 
become onerous. Instincts that were required by statute would 
become irksome, until they were laid aside. A man jostled at 
the polls and in the primary meetings would be less inclined to 
step aside or stand up elsewhere to give a woman place. 

The almost uniform method of confusing questions, resorted 
to so constantly in the attacks of the woman suffragists, must be 
protested against to the end. Giving a woman the ballot has 
nothing whatever to do with her higher education, with her 
choice of occupations, with the part she may take in the discus 
sion of public questions, or with her share in the administration 
of public interests. Along the lines of their distinctive ability, 
and in the ways of their natural adaptation, no sane man ques 
tions the wisdom and the duty of the highest education for 
women, of the freest following out of their vocations, of the im 
portance of their intelligent knowledge, and the value of their 
expressed opinions in great moral and social public questions, 
and of their capacity in certain offices of responsibility, duty and 

So far as to principles, and fairness of methods in argument. 
And now for the appeal to serious men and women, for the serious 
consideration of this most serious question. The appeal is rightly 
made, first, in behalf of the women of America who are earnestly 
opposed to the imposition upon them of a burden which, from 
their point of view, not only is not a duty, but is an evil ; not 
only not a right, but actually a wrong. It is very easy, by the 
process that is sometimes called " counting noses," to say that 
this is a matter of minorities, and that majorities must rule. But, 
like many other arguments in favor of this cause, the statement 
is based upon the e ' take-things-for-granted " plan. Given a 
large body of earnest agitators (some of them paid agents who live 
by the agitation), and everybody knows that numberless signa 
tures may be obtained to a petition for almost anything names 
of indifferent, unintelligent, brow-beaten and button-holed 
people, who sign rather than argue, and assent in the spirit of 


lazy complaisance, rather than offend the asker by refusing. Such 
signatures mean nothing, although they swell the number into a 
more than millenary petition, and make it more or less miles long. 
Not for a moment disputing the fact that some of the names 
stand for intelligence and intention, for conviction and conscience, 
that they represent education, social position, tax-paying interest, 
I claim, from my own large and long experience, that, in any com 
munity with which I am acquainted, the most serious, intelligent, 
cultivated women, with the largest money interest in the govern 
ment, and the most quiet, thoughtful, earnest women, are, con 
scientiously and on clear convictions, opposed to woman suffrage. 
I insist that it is a wrong to force such women to the alternative 
of going to the polls, against their instincts and their convictions, 
or of allowing the unthinking majority of votes to be enlarged by 
the ballots of women carried away by a theory, or influenced by 
a desire for power. What the result would be is matter of con 
jecture ; but my conviction is that it would be difficult, if not 
impossible, to bring the great mass of really intelligent and 
responsible women to vote, against their ingrained habits, their 
instincts, their inclinations, and their judgments. And it is 
important to stop and consider what that means. The old 
proverb applies here of the horse dragged to the water, which 
cannot be made to drink. Legislation may be secured that will 
say to every woman: "You shall have the privilege of voting" ; 
but, after all, it means only "may," and you cannot put the verb 
into the imperative and say: "You shall vote." 

There are two factors of grave danger in the political issues 
and elections of America. First of all, the religious question, 
which, guard it as we will, crops up from time to time, in appro 
priations to charities or schools or religious organizations, or in 
fanatical fury against some form of religious order and belief. 
There have been two noted instances, at least, in which the 
danger has been shadowed forth in the arraying of Protestants 
against Roman Catholics. In one case, the violent stirring up of 
Protestant women about a school question produced an angry 
contest, in which the Protestants carried the day ; while in the 
other, after a careful canvass, quietly made among Protestant 
women, the summons of a single Roman priest mustered a force 
of female voters, always liable to be controlled by clerical direc 
tion, which carried the day for Rome. And the dregs and debris 


of the contest were bitter and wretched to a degree. It is to the 
infinite honor of women that they are more quickly interested, 
more keenly concerned, and more deeply influenced in their 
religious feelings and convictions than men. But it adds to the 
wrong and horror of allowing religion to be dragged into poli 
tics, if, on one side or the other, a great body of voters could be 
wielded by any religious or ecclesiastical influence to decide the 
question and carry the day. 

The other factor, known and read of all men, is the venal 
voter the man whose ballot is for sale to the highest bidder. 
The possession of the ballot has not purified the male voter from 
the heinous sin of a sold vote. Why should it purify the woman ? 
It is a well-known fact that, in all our large cities, there is a 
great body of women who sell themselves, soul and body. It is 
idle to stop and say that men are responsible for this horror. I 
have no desire to screen men. I believe the man who sins against 
purity is before God a sinner equally with the woman. But the 
fact stands that a woman who will sell her purity, her honor, her 
reputation, herself, will sell anything. And in the city of New 
York, with its fifty thousand fallen women, there is this enor 
mous and awful possibility of a vote that might turn the tide of 
any election, purchasable by the highest bidder, who would nat 
urally use his disreputable bargain for disreputable and dangerous 
ends. By some strange confusion of infantile innocence, unim 
aginable ignorance of facts, or malicious interpretation of words, 
men who have called attention to this danger have been accused 
of insulting their wives and mothers, or of implying that Mrs. 
Cady Stanton or Miss Anthony would sell her vote. But this 
sort of answer is only the action of the cuttle-fish which hides its 
method of escape, or the dust of the fleeing animal which blinds 
the eyes of its pursuer. The hideous fact of the number of de 
graded and venal women remains. The awful fact of venal 
voters among men remains ; and of the equally criminal class of 
political go-betweens, who spend the money of candidates and 
corporations in these most illegitimate ''election expenses/' And 
the possibility and probability of the increase of a corrupted ballot 
giving, in a close election, the balance of power, secured by a 
purchase of the votes of women lost to all sense of shame, follows 
as an immediate and inevitable danger. 

It is constantly urged that women voters would be more con- 


scientious and careful than men are, would be always on the side 
of reform, would advance the interests of temperance and of all 
great moral and social movements. But, in the first place, this 
is purely prophetic, without the inspiration of prophecy. It is 
mere guess-work. To reach a real conclusion through an im 
aginary premiss is illogical to the last degree. There are, perhaps 
in smaller proportion, bad women as well as bad men, intemperate 
women, ignorant women. In the comparisons usually made by 
the advocates of woman's suffrage, it is always the virtuous and 
intelligent woman who is contrasted with the ignorant and un 
principled man. The fact is, that to multiply suffrage means to 
multiply every kind of vote by two, and while it would mean an 
increase of votes cast on principle and for principle, it would also 
mean an increase of unprincipled votes against the best interests 
of society. It is greatly to be doubted whether politics, either in 
its methods or in its results, would be purified in this way. The 
giving of the ballot to men has not improved either the morals or 
the responsibility of men. Why should it make women more 
moral or more responsible? Voting, after all, is to a large degree 
~by parties and for individuals, and there is no such violence of 
partizanship in the world as the violence of female partizanship. 
No one who has heard a good "Primrose League lady" in Eng 
land abuse Mr. Gladstone will question this. And the condition 
of feeling in the South during and since the war is a painful 
evidence of it. It was the women of the South who fanned the 
flame of secession, who forced the continuance of the hopeless 
strife, and who to-day, where there is any spirit of out-and-out 
sectionalism, are the unrelenting, unforgetting, unforgiving 
Southerners. This relation of the Southern women to the war is 
a serious note of warning, in another direction, about "the woman 
in politics." There can be no doubt that women in the South 
knew more, thought more, felt more, talked more about politics 
than the women of the North. And what was the result and effect 
of their intelligent interest? Slavery and the slave laws, with all 
their frightful possibilities, maintained in the time of peace, and 
sectionalism run mad when the opportunity for the war came! 

There are two other considerations which cannot be omitted 
in the study of this subject, the family relation, and the relation 
between men and women in the world. To-day, in the house 
hold, the man is the voter. Suppose the wife becomes a voter 


too. She will either reproduce her husband's political views, and 
there would be in one house two Democratic voters, and in 
another two Republican voters, where there had been one. And 
this is no gain towards a decision of questions. It is only a 
multiplying of ballots, producing no change of results. Or else 
the wife would take the opposite side from her husband's, and, 
instantly, with all the heat and violence of party differences and 
political disagreements, a bone of contention is introduced into 
the home; a new cause of dissension and alienation is added to 
the already strained relations in many families. Then there is 
the question of mistress and maid. Shall the cook leave her 
kitchen to cast a vote, which shall counterbalance the vote of the 
mistress, or shall the employer undertake to control the politics 
of the "kitchen cabinet"? And all this, not merely on the vot 
ing day, or in the deposit of the ballot, but the weeks before and 
after the election are to be spent in the heat of discussion, or in 
the smart of defeat. The American home is not too sacred and 
secure to-day to make it safe to undermine it with the explosive 
materials of politics and partisanship. And meanwhile, as things 
are now, the intelligent woman, interested in some great meas 
ure of reform, has in her hand, not the ability to rival, offset, or 
double her husband's vote, but the power of her persuasion, her 
affection, her ingenuity, to influence it. It would be incredible, 
if it were not shown to be true, that any large number of think 
ing and intelligent beings, knowing, feeling, using, this tremen 
dous power, should be willing to run the risk of losing it, by 
substituting a thing far lower and feebler in its stead. And with 
the experience of what she has gained for her sex, with the evi 
dence of what voting men have brought about for her under the 
influence of non-voting women, and through solicitude for their 
interests, the rashness of this proposed experiment defies de 

It is perfectly idle to imagine that the relation between men 
and women in the outside world can remain the same when their 
attitude to each other is so entirely changed. With women 
mingling in the rough strifes and contests of political life, and 
assuming positions and duties hitherto unknown to them, there 
will inevitably come the quenching of that chivalrous feeling of 
men towards women, born of the protection hitherto expected by 
women and afforded by men, which is the inspiring cause of so 


large a part of the amenities of life and the politeness of manners. 
And yet, just because woman is physically weak, and man physi 
cally strong, there will be no change in the real necessities of 
things. One may well look with grave anxiety at what is really 
a revolution of the natural order, utterly unable to conjecture 
what the results may be when women shall have become, not only 
votresses, but legislatfrmes, mayoresses, and alderwomen. It is 
the favorite habit of women arguing this cause to deal with it as 
though woman's suffrage were an evolution. But it cannot fairly 
be considered as, in any way, a progress along the line of that 
steady advance in the power and position of women, which has 
been wrought out by Christian civilization. It would not be 
progress, it would be retrogression. And it is not the least 
after the manner of growth and improvement in the character, 
the education, or the opportunities of women. It is a new 
departure ; an entire digression ; a violent change, and the 
appeal of this article is in a way te from Philip drunk to Philip 
sober." Certain women have said so loudly, and so often, that 
they are (< enslaved," <f reduced to a level with idiots," " classed 
with criminals," "deprived of natural rights," "down-trodden 
and oppressed," that they have really come to believe it and to make 
some sensible people believe it. I trust that wiser counsels may 
in the end prevail. Meanwhile, inasmuch as the active agitators for 
this radical revolution in the very fundamental elements of govern 
ment, have resorted to every known means to secure their ends, I 
cannot but feel, that, however the other women may shrink from 
the publicity, it is their bounden duty by influence, by argument, 
by petition, to " fight fire with fire " ; to see to it that, in the ap 
proaching elections for the Senate and Assembly of the State of 
New York, men shall be chosen who will defend them from this 
wrong; and when the elections are completed, to let it be known 
and felt in Albany that what some women claim as a political 
right, they consider a personal grievance and a public harm. 




IT is to be observed of all pictures representing the Arctic 
regions, thatf they are seldom true to nature : aud this because 
it is always the exceptional, and never the ordinary, scene that is 
painted. In every part of the picture we have the icebergs run 
ning up with fantastic peaks and pinnacles, developing into 
graceful arches and airy columns. It is not to be said that such 
natural freaks are absent from every Arctic scene, but it is that they 
give a character to few Arctic scenes. Thus the ordinary aspect 
of the ice is scarcely picturesque, and something like a dull 
monotony of form characterizes the real iceberg. 

I think that most probably what is true of the pictures we 
have of the Arctic regions is also true of those we have of the 
blue-jacket who won our battles for us in past times. What was 
picturesque, odd, eccentric, and therefore rare, about him was 
selected to give character to the scene, so that the extraordinary, 
instead of the ordinary, blue-jacket is the type of which we have 
the greatest knowledge. It has often struck me as a curious 
anomaly that Dibdin's songs were never sung by the blue-jackets 
of my early days, that is, the days of nearly fifty years ago. They 
had songs of their own the " fore-bitter " of sixty or seventy 
verses, with a roaring chorus at the end of each ; or the senti 
mental solo describing the joys of wandering by river sides and in 
soft, green meadows with the maiden of your choice ; or, less 
frequently, the broad comic song, scarcely of a drawing room 
character. I reconciled the fact to my sense of the fitness of 
things by reflecting that Dibdin's blue-jacket was most probably a 
stage sort of character, interesting to the lay mind of England, 
but altogether unrepresentative of the real thing and rejected by 
the real thing for this reason. 


There are not wanting here and there direct proofs of my view. 
I have among my books a curious and rare pamphlet, written at 
the very beginning of this century, descriptive of the inner life of 
a man-of-war of the day. It is in the form of dialogue. A Mem 
ber of Parliament becomes the guest of the captain for a short 
cruise, and he carries on a conversation with the officers as the 
ship passes through a variety of situations, including,, if I rightly 
recollect, getting ashore, and experiencing an alarm of fire on 
board. The Member never ceases to express his surprise at the 
misrepresentations current on shore as to the character and con 
duct of "the guardians of the deep," as they were to be seen in 
their floating houses. Everything the Member sees and hears 
shows order, discipline, temperance, delicacy of language he 
never heard an oath and kindliness of thought and demeanor. 
If, again, we turn from hypothesis to reality, and remember the 
extraordinary good health which prevailed in the fleet under Nel 
son's command throughout his long and monotonous blockade of 
Toulon, it is hardly possible to associate it with the belief that 
his men were the rollicking, drunken (that is, much more so 
than society of the day), reckless creatures that have been popu 
larly painted. 

I, personally, am confirmed in my view from my own experi 
ence. I never served in a ship where there were not a few repre 
sentatives of the picturesque but unmanageable devilry which has 
been handed down to us as the common character of the blue 
jacket ; and if I were to paint the general aspect of the crew in 
the colors proper to the exceptions, I should show that the blue 
jacket of 1850 was a true descendant of him of 1800. I doubt 
not that at the time I write there are on board many of our ships 
specimens, probably very few in number, of the traditional type. 
But no one now would write about them or draw attention to their 
eccentricities as having in them anything to be amused at, still 
less to admire. Public opinion, on the lower deck as elsewhere, 
has changed its view of these things. Doubtless a blue-jacket, 
in the gradations from perfect sobriety to perfect drunkenness, 
does and says pretty nearly the same things now that he did and 
said ninety years ago. Fifty, forty, twenty years ago, perhaps, 
the comic side of the case would have been seen, and would have 
predominated in the minds of onlookers : now men would regard 
the case, not in its immediate, but in its future aspect. The 


beginning of the drunkard's life, with all the horror and misery 
of it which was to come, would now be the dominating thought, 
and the idea of anything comic'would be an impossible association. 
And so with any other variation from a fair standard of sensible 
conduct and morality. We may find it, but it no longer bears a 
picturesque appearance. No popular writer would speak of it as 
a necessary concomitant of loyal courage, in all cases to be 
excused, if not to be regarded with affectionate pity. 

So, perhaps, it is this way with the evolution of the blue-jacket. 
Perhaps we should find that his main characteristics are un 
changed and unchangeable ; that there always was and always 
will be a minority with qualities eccentric and striking which 
were once thought to be picturesque and inherent in a " jolly 
tar/' but which were really excrescences that time and enlighten 
ment have worn away, so that now the minority is infinitesimal. 

The blue-jacket, in short, always was what circumstances 
made him, and he always will be so. Most of the blue-jacket's sur 
roundings have immensely changed in the course of this century j 
some of them it is impossible to change. His character has 
obeyed the impulses forced upon it. 

It is too early yet to understand fully what the change from 
sail to steam may effect in the bluejacket's physique, but the 
change for the majority cannot be so great as might be inferred. 
A proportion of the blue- jackets of any fully rigged ship were 
necessarily athletes. The " upper yardmen " in a llne-of -battle 
ship or a frigate were exceptional men in this way, and much 
more so,, perhaps, just about the time that sail power was receiving 
its death warrant than ever before. These young men had to 
race aloft to nearly the highest points, at top speed, eight or ten 
times a week when the ship was in harbor ; to keep their heads 
and maintain their breath while (< holding on by their eyelids," 
as the phrase went, and manipulating with a careful and measured 
order of action the various and intricate arrangements for 
" crossing" or " sending down " the royal and top-gallant yards. 
It was all done at full speed, for it was universally held that the 
upper yardmen gave a character to the whole ship ; and that 
one which was foremost in this exercise was ever considered 
"the smartest ship in the fleet." These upper yardmen were 
always the coming men. They had most opportunities for dis 
tinguishing themselves, were the best known, and were most un- 


der the eye of the authorities. They developed great muscular 
power in chest, shoulders and arms. Their lower extremities suf 
fered, and one always knew the men who had been upper yard 
men by their tadpole-like appearance when they were bathing. 

But in the modern steam line-of -battle-ship and frigate these 
extremely athletic specimens formed a very small minority of the 
"'ship's company/' and none of them could lose his turn at 
being upper yardman BO long as the ship's reputation depended on 
the speed with which the upper yards were crossed and sent 
down. In harbor the rest of the blue-jackets had the handling 
of yards and sails for exercise once or twice a week, but at sea 
the use of sails for propulsion grew less and less important, and 
most of the work aloft was more of an exercise and less of a 

I am not at all sure that the year 1800 produced even the 
minority of athletes which our upper yard system was famous for 
in 1860. Any one examining the logs of any blockading fleet 
about the end of last century, can scarcely doubt the fact. The 
ships as a rule were kept under extremely low sail and were for 
days and days under the same sail, the "evolutions" being con 
fined to "tacking' 5 or "wearing," "per signal," five or six times 
in the twenty-four hours-manoeuvres which called for little work 
aloft. "It blew so much harder in the days of the war," that 
double or even treble reefs in the topsails were found co-existent 
with the ready passage of boats from ship to ship. There was 
then no such thing as "sail drill," the actual necessities of cruis 
ing being held all sufficient. Even in my own time, I have 
noted that the training of a minority of athletes was the work of 
steam, and that the exercises aloft by a sailing fleet, such as Sir^ 
Wm. Parker commanded in the forties, were a small matter com 
pared to those instituted in the " Marlborough" tinder the splendid 
auspices of the present Admirals, Sir Wm. Martin, Sir Houston 
Stewart and Sir Thomas Brandreth in the sixties. 

But however all this may be, there has been for a couple of 
centuries a body of men serving afloat, second to none as loyal 
fighting men, with whom it was a traditional privilege that they 
could not be ordered "above the hammock-nettings." Since the 
earliest times the proud position of the marines was to mess and 
to sleep between the blue-jackets and the officers. And even 
now, when the loyalty of marines and blue-jackets is equal, 


and is preserved by the same means, tradition puts the marine 
to mess and to sleep in as good an imitation of his old place as 
modern naval architecture will allow. This body of men got 
few advantages, moral or physical from the use of sails, and 
so far, the marine of to-day, when sail has gone, cannot differ 
much from the marine of a hundred years ago. 

Steam brought in a second body of men who were free from 
training aloft, and who by the nature of the case could hold no 
competition as athletes with the upper yardmen, though to some 
extent the nature of their work below brought the operation of 
mind and muscle into nearly as close an alliance as did that of the 
upper yardmen aloft. These men, the stokers, were so noted for 
their muscular power that in regattas it was generally allowed 
that the stoker's boats ought to win. The marine again was 
somewhat hampered by the general buttoned-up-ness of his dress. 
The stoker dressed as a seaman, and enjoyed all the splendid free 
dom of limb which the seaman's dress offers behind its pictur 
esque and graceful outline. 

Thus the evolution of the blue-jacket may be more direct 
from him of the last century than from him of the time when 
there was a contest between coal and wind for the right to propel 
and when it was not certain which would win. The blue-jacket 
proper has diminished in comparative number. The absence of 
sail has brought him towards the marine ; his dress and much of 
his training and mode of life leave him less distinguished than 
heretofore from the stoker. In another way, the difference be 
tween the stoker and the blue-jacket proper is minimized. All 
that working in hemp and canvas ; knotting, splicing, grafting, 
pointing, worming, sewing, tabling, and all the hundred and 
one manufacturing operations of the blue- jacket as a handicrafts 
man, have disappeared. There was a certain character about all 
hemp and canvas handicraftsman ship which certainly must have 
had its effect on the character of the handicraftsman. It was 
never exact work. A job might be a neat job of work or it 
might be a rough one, yet the work as work was equally good. 

The seaman could put some of himself into the seizing of 
every block he stropped, into the end of every rope he pointed. 
That is all gone. He is not yet a mechanic; he is not yet a 
worker in brass and iron as he was once in hemp and canvas, 
but he is constantly handling mechanisms so exactly formed that 


no part of the former is left in them. There is no individuality 
in. the things he handles; they are impassive and imptrsonal. 

And then again he has wholly lost that sense of contention with 
the elements, that romantic uncertainty which lay in the doubt 
whether, in the sailing ship, man or nature would win in any 
contest. The character of a man perpetually wondering whether 
nature would be kind and blow him into the haven where he 
would be, or whether nature would he rough and give him a 
week's dose of treble-reefed topsails to a dead foul breeze, could 
not possibly embrace the same characteristics as that of him who 
spends his life in feeling and asserting his entire mastery over the 
elements, and his perfect indifference to the freaks of wind or sea. 

So this, the ideality of the blue-jacket, his romance, his indi 
vidualism, has been roughly assaulted by the advent of steam 
and the number and exactitude of the mechanisms which steam 
has developed, and which are the daily and hourly companions of 
his life afloat. 

Only two sorts of work remain to the blue-jacket into which 
he can put his personality, or on which ho can stamp his charac 
ter. In as far as he makes his own clothes, washes them, and 
scrubs his own hammock, he is doing work which is not exact, 
and into which his energy, or the want of it, his fancy, or the 
want of it, may enter. It is to be hoped that the contractor for 
slop clothing may be kept as much at arm's length as possible, 
and that the pipe, " Scrub 'ammicks and wash clothes," may not 
become obsolete on the advent of some terrible inventor who 
proposes to do the business by steam. 

But on the other hand, seaman, marine, and stoker lead on 
board ship now a life not differing so very much from that which 
their forefathers so lived. The absence of privacy ; much of the 
crowding; the habit of doing hour by hour, like the works of a 
clock, hosts of disagreeable things only because some one else has 
ordered them to be done ; all these remain to form the physique 
and the character, and to stamp their peculiarities on each of the 
three great branches of the naval service. The very long, soli 
tary cruises of men-of-war have passed away in our own time, yet 
many of our smaller ships are for months isolated, cut off from 
all civilization except their own, when their lot is cast in distant 
and unfrequented parts of the world : so that whatever effect this 
separation had in the past is not wholly lost in the present. And, 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 466. 18 


quite apart from everything which was or is peculiar to the blue 
jacket's situation on board ship as contrasted with that of the 
marine and the stoker, we know for certain that ship life leaves 
a special stamp upon him. We know it because of the special 
stamp it leaves on the marine. Admittedly there are no troops 
in the world like the Royal Marines. Besides the peculiar steadi 
ness and solidity which they exhibit, their capacity for making 
themselves comfortable under the most adverse circumstances of 
a campaign has long been the envy of the pure soldier. In this 
the blue-jacket shares equally, and the fact shows that it is in 
herent in ship life to produce this sort of thing, and that the 
change to steam has not affected it. I have had occasion to follow 
some of the early history of the Sherwood Foresters, late the 
Forty-fifth Regiment, and I have traced in it most of the char 
acteristics now so marked in the marines. The regiment had 
such an extraordinarily prolonged experience of life in transports, 
that when several regiments were under convoy, those carrying 
the Forty-fifth were held up as the patterns which other regi 
ments should copy in order, cleanliness and comfort. 

But if the blue-jacket has much changed, and I think he has, 
generally for the better, it is law and rule that has done it and 
not so much physical surroundings. 

Though I have said that the average is not represented in our 
pictures of the blue-jacket of a past age, I should paint that aver 
age, as I knev7 it, in sadder colors than I could now use. The 
average blue- jacket as I knew him long ago was always a good 
fellow, but you seldom knew where to have him. He was un 
questionably a drunken fellow, and he used to manage to get 
dead drunk faster than any other class of men with whom I have 
been acquainted. He was not steady. Apart from his officer he 
seemed almost a reed shaken with the wind, though his personal 
courage was always lion-like when roused. He was proud of his 
officer, especially if the officer was hard on him. He was some 
what of a fatalist, quick to imagine that fate was against him 
and to give up the struggle against it. He was quarrelsome in 
his cups, but almost always distinctly witty out of them. He 
preserves his humor to the present day. A story is told of a cer 
tain " Bill " standing at the corner of a street in Natal during 
the Zulu war, when a certain general just landed, covered with 
medals and orders, and equally hung with soldierly knicknacks, 


the whistle, the field glass, the compass, the note book, etc., 
passed near "Bill " and his companion " Jack." 

" Who's 'im, Jack ? asked Bill. 

" Dunno," said Jack, " seems to be one o' them new generals 
just come ashore." 

'' H'm," returned Bill, preparing to put his pipe in his mouth 
again, " looks like a bloomin' Christmas tree !" 

The stories about frying watches, and lighting pipes with 5 
notes, give an utterly false notion of the blue- jacket. Philip, 
drunk, might have done such things, but not Philip, sober. 
Philip, sober, has always been, and is, peculiarly sharp and thrifty 
about money. Philip, sober, forty or ilf ty years ago took wonder 
ful care of the pence, and he does so still. But forty or fifty 
years ago he was filled with an ignorant suspicion of every one 
who had to do with his money and who did not play upon his 
fancies. He has got over that now perhaps pretty well, but no one 
of his rank of life makes closer calculations or drives a better bar 
gain than the developed blue-jacket of to-day. I think he has 
overdone it in not meeting Government half way on the score of 
his widow's pension, but he is the descendant of tradition and 
Rome was not built in a day. 

His thrift has been in every way helped by wise legislation in 
the matter of naval savings banks, in the frequency of his pay 
ments, and in the facilities given him when abroad for remitting 
to his friends and dependents at home. To these he is almost 
uniformly generous. I give some figures which show both his 
thrift and his generosity, or care for his family. 

A certain battleship, in the year 1893, with a complement of 
less than 500 blue-jackets, marines, and stokers, sent home by 
means of regular monthly allotments to relatives, dependents, and 
friends, more than 4,700. At odd times, as they had it to 
spare, they remitted a further sum of over 900. This was gen 
erous thrift, exercised toward others. If further inquiries had 
been made it would be shown that many of the remitter*, and 
more of those who were not remitting, were hoarding in the 
savings banks. In 1892-3, 17,934 men in the navy had savings 
bank accounts open, and the total amount thus hoarded was 
229,173, an average of more than 12 per head of depositors, or 
perhaps nearly 4 per head of the men serving. The sum actually 
put away that year was over 173,000. 


I have said that in old times he was a drunken fellow; but 
then we were all drunken fellows a hundred years ago. I have 
seen the journal of the captain of a frigate written in the West 
Indies during the War of Independence. He had flogged a man 
for drunkenness, and the man in the course of his punishment 
said the captain himself had been drunk a couple of days before. 
The man, according to the custom of those times, got another 
dozen. But the captain, narrating the occurrence in his journal, 
reflected that after all the man ha,d spoken the truth. The wise 
conclusion of the captain thereon was " that he would never get 
drunk on board the ship again." 

When I throw my mind back forty years to the days when I 
served in what was called "a twelve-gun pelter" that is, a man- 
of-war brig it seems to me as if, just outside of the midship 
man's berth, which was then my domicile, there were always two 
or three drunken men lying on the deck with their legs in irons 
and their heads on wet "swabs" bundles of rope yarns which 
were used in drying the decks after washing. And, showing how 
we then regarded such matters, it is the comic side of the scene 
which alone dwells in my mind. I have a remembrance of a cer 
tain Thompson, a carpenter's mate, waking up, half recovered, 
and prefacing a long soliloquy on the injustice of the commander 
in speaking of him as " the man, Thompson," by quoting Shakes 
peare, "Now is the winter of our discontent." Turtle, when 
taken on board ship as fresh meat, are laid on their backs with a 
wet swab under their heads. I remember a certain Lear, captain 
of the foretop, recognizing the similarity of his position, and in 
his more than half-drunken state declaring that ft he did'nt want 
no wet swabs ; he wasn't a turtle !" 

I deem it quite possible that the blue-jacket of this date was 
more drunken on board his ship than was his ancestor of a cen 
tury earlier. The ancestor was brought up on beer ; my blue 
jacket was brought up on rum. Every day he had a large wine 
glass full of rum to three wine-glasses full of water at his noon-tide 
dinner, and again at his afternoon tea. Often he did not drink 
it, but handed his proportion to the messmate, whose turn it was 
to enjoy the glories of getting thoroughly drunk with a possible 
flogging to follow. The only directly repressive measure against 
this sort of thing was taken many years ago, when the evening 
basin of grog ceased to be served out. The opportunities of get- 


ting drank on board wore lessened, but those on shore wire im 
mensely increased. 

In nothing was the blue-jacket of early days more unre 
liable than in his return from leave on shore. The thing acted 
and re-acted. The rarity of his visits to the land made him. stay 
there when he got there, as long as he could. Because he was 
sure to over-stay, he was seldom allowed the opportunity. But 
the wisest of legislation cut the gordian knot. Many years ago 
the dwellers on the lower deck of all ranks, were classed for leave. 
There are "special/' " privileged" and "general," "leave-men," 
and there are "habitual leave-breakers." The "special "leave man 
goes ashore almost as the officer does whenever he wishes, and 
the duties of the ship admit of it. The "privileged" man goes 
when time is not likely to press much. The "general" leave- 
man only goes at stated intervals and when time does not press 
at all. The " habitual leave-breaker" only goes at long intervals 
and to test his powers of returning to time experimentally. The 
result, of course, is immensely increased opportunities of getting 
drunk on shore, but immense pressure to keep sober so as not to 
lose a "class" in leave, or to get a step higher in the classifica 
tion. And in every ship, and always, the good lesson is working 
and the evolution of the blue-jacket is towards sobriety and 

There are in every ship some total abstainers. Those who 
look for a new heaven and a new earth as the outcome of total 
abstention may be inclined to regard them as stars in the firma 
ment. But generally speaking, I think I am right in saying that 
the executive officers do not know who, amongst the well-behaved 
and the exemplars on the lower deck are total abstainers, and who 
are moderate drinkers. Most naval officers reckon more with the 
ill effect of broken vows, than with the good effect of vows that are 
kept. They do not favor the teetotal propaganda, and believe 
more fully in that which they see ; namely, the silent growth of 
that public opinion on the lower deck which has for so many 
years been dominant on the quarter-deck. 

What shall we say of the courage and loyalty of the present 
blue jacket ? We may say then there never was greater trial of 
it than was recently made in the Soudan, and it never had a 
more magnificant triumph. All the blue- jackets' fighting of 
late has been on shore, and probably there are no light troops in 


the world such as those we land from our ships. Speed of 
movement, steadiness, reliability, daring of the highest quality, 
are all there, and evolution in this respect has been towards per 

What again of his loyalty and discipline? There is in this 
respect no difference now between the seaman and the marine. 
Both are long-service men generally looking forward to their 
pensions. Both have a great stake in the success and mainte 
nance of the naval service. Discipline for these reasons seldom 
requires the iron hand. The causes which differentiated the 
officer from the man have to some extent ceased to operate. The 
man feels, as the officer has longer felt, that he is the subject of 
law and not of personal will. He is more ready than he was to 
fill his place in the general machinery. 

But I hope I am wrong in apprehending a possible danger. 
If personal interest alone had been the guide of the naval officer, 
England would scarcely be where she is. The sentiment of loy 
alty, and of the grandeur of self-sacrifice for a cause, have made 
the British naval officer what self-interest alone could never have 
made him. There have been some signs that on the lower deck 
this sentiment does not wax. The discipline and loyalty based 
upon self-interest and utilitarianism may be perfect in appearance 
and yet incapable of bearing a strain. If anything of the trades- 
union spirit should invade our lower decks, there might be 
danger in it. 




THERE is no intention in this paper of giving either a bio 
graphical notice of Professor Huxley or an estimate of his posi 
tion in science, philosophy or literature. Both have been done 
over and over again in numerous journals and magazines 
that have appeared since his death. The main facts of his 
career, and his great contributions to human knowledge, must be 
perfectly familiar to the readers of this REVIEW. I have, how 
ever, in response to an appeal from the Editor, put down a few 
personal reminiscences, gathered during a friendship of nearly 
forty years, which may throw some additional light upon the 
character and private life of one in whom all English speaking 
people must take a deep interest. In doing this I fear I have 
been obliged to introduce myself to the notice of the reader more 
frequently than I should wish, but this seems inevitable in an 
article of this nature, and I trust will be forgiven for the sake of 
the main subject. 

When Huxley returned to London from his four years' survey 
ing cruise in the " Rattlesnake," under the command of Captain 
Owen Stanley, one of the first men of kindred pursuits who took 
him by the hand was George Burk, then surgeon to the Seaman's 
Hospital, the "Dreadnaught," lying in the Thames off Greenwich. 
About this time Burk removed from Greenwich to Haiiey street, 
and although doing some practice as a surgeon, and even attain 
ing to the position of President of the Royal College of Surgeons, 
his main occupation and chief pleasure were in purely scientific 
pursuits, and his great interest in and familiarity with micro 
scopic manipulation, especially as applied to the structure of lowly 
organized animal forms then rather in its infancy was a strong 


bond of sympathy with Huxley. In 1852-4 they translated and 
edited jointly Kolliker's Manual of Human Histology, published 
by the Sydeuham Society. This fact shows that Huxley had 
already made himself proficient in the German language, as he 
had also, while on board the "Rattlesnake," taught himself Italian, 
with the main object of being able to read Dante in the original, 
so wido were his interests and sympathies. 

It was through Burk that I first became acquainted with 
Huxley. This was shortly before his marriage, the incidents 
connected with which were of a somewhat romantic character. 
When the "Rittlesnako" was in Sydney Harbor the officers were 
invited to a ball, and young Huxley among the number. There 
for the first time he met his future wife, whose parents resided 
at Sydney. A few d.iys after they were engaged, and the ship 
sailed for the Tower Straits to complete the survey of the north 
coast of Australia, all communication being cut off for months at 
a time, and then she returned direct to England. After that 
brief acquaintance (not, I believe, longer than a fortnight), it was 
seven years before the lovers saw one another. At the end of 
this time, on Huxley's appointment to the School of Mines, he 
was in a position to claim his bride, and welcome her to their 
first home in St. John's Wood. He often used to say that to en 
gage the affections of a young girl under these circumstances, 
knowing that he would have to leave her for an indefinite time, 
and with only the remotest prospect of ever marrying, was an 
act most strongly to be reprobated, and he often held it out as a 
warning to his children never to do anything of the kind, and 
yet they all married young and all happily. Huxley's love at first 
sight and constancy during those seven long years of separation 
were richly rewarded, for it is impossible to imagine a pair more 
thoroughly suited. I cannot help relating a little incident which 
clings to my memory, though it happened full thirty years ago. 
A rather cynical and vulgar-minded acquaintance of mine said to 
me one day : " I saw Huxley in a box at the Drury Lane Theatre 
last night. Can you tell me who was the lady with him?" 
After a few words of description I said: '< Oh, that was Mrs. 
Huxley." " Indeed," he said, "I thought it could not be his 
wife, he was so very attentive to her all the evening." As inti 
mate friends knew, they had at first many household troubles 
and cares to contend with, a large family of young children, 


much ill health, and not very abundant means, but through it all 
Huxley's patience and sweetness were admirable. The fierce and 
redoubtable antagonist in the battlefield of scientific or theologi 
cal controversy was all love and gentleness at home. 

The fact that he had sailed under Captain Owen Stanley, 
who died when in command of the " Kattlesnake" in Australia, 
brought him into very friendly communication with the Captain's 
brother, the late dean of Westminster, the Dean, as many of us 
always used to, and still do, call him, just as the first Duke of 
Wellington was always called the Duke. Notwithstanding the 
great differences of their interests and pursuits, they remained 
intimate until Stanley's death, and to be with them when they 
met was a rare occasion of hearing much delightful talk and 
many displays of playful wit. If I had the faculty of a Boswell, 
I should have much work narrating of many charming little 
dinner parties at one or the other of our houses, when Huxley 
and the Dean were the principal talkers. I remember a character 
istic rencontre between them which took place on one of the 
ballot nights at the Athenaeum. A well-known popular preacher 
of the Scotch Presbyterian Church, who had made himself 
famous by predictions of the speedy coming of the end of the 
world, was up for election. I was standing by Huxley when the 
Dean, coming straight from the ballot boxes, turned towards us. 
" Well/' said Huxley, "have you been voting for C ?" " Yes, 
indeed, I have," replied the Dean. "Oh, I thought the priests 
were always opposed to the prophets," said Huxley. "Ah?" 
replied the Dean, with that well-known twinkle in his eye, and 
the sweetest of smiles. " But you see, I do not believe in his 
prophecies, and some people say I am not much of a priest." 

Speaking of Dean Stanley, I am reminded of a very interest 
ing meeting which took place at my house, in Lincoln's Inn 
Kields, on November 26, 1878, just after his return from his visit 
10 the United States. He had a great wish to see Darwin, who 
was one of the few remarkable men of the age with whom he was 
not personally acquainted. They moved in totally different 
circles, Darwin having, owing to ill-health, long given up going 
into general society. He had, however, a great admiration for 
the Dean's liberality, courage, and character, and was glad of 
the opportunity of meeting him. So we arranged that they 
should both come to lunch. They were mutually pleased with 


each other, although they had not many subjects in common to 
talk about. Darwin was no theologian and Stanley did not take 
the slightest interest in nor had he any knowledge of any branch 
of natural history, although his father was eminent as an ornith 
ologist and President of the Linnean Society. I once took him 
over the Geological Gardens. His remarks were, of course, 
original and amusing, but the sole interest he appeared to find 
in any of the animals was in tracing some human trait, either in 
appearance or character. The Dean enjoyed intensely the 
broader aspects and beauties of nature as shown in scenery, but 
the details of animal and plant life were entirely outside his 

Another introduction consequent upon Huxley's voyage in the 
" Rattlesnake "was to Dr. Vaughan, theji Headmaster of Harrow. 
Mrs. Vaughan was Cnptain Owen Stanley's sister, and soon after 
Huxley's return he was asked to dine and pass the night at Har 
row. This was a new experience. The young rough sailor surgeon 
was at first quite out of his element in the refined, scholastic, 
ecclesiastical society he found himself plunged into. Among 
those whp were present was an Oxford don (the first of the class 
Huxley had ever met), whose great learning, suave manner and 
air of superiority during dinner, greatly alarmed and repelled him, 
as he after wards confessed. Bed time came, and both stood upon 
the staircase, lighted candle in hand. They looked straight into 
each other's faces, and the don addressed a few words directly to 
Huxley for the first time. He was much interested, and an ani 
mated conversation ensued. Instead of bidding each other " good 
night" they adjourned to a neighboring room, sat down and talked 
till two o'clock in the morning. This was the beginning of Hux 
ley's life-long friendship with the late Master of Balliol, Dr. 

It may surprise sgme people to know, but that he has told it 
himself in an exceedingly interesting and delightfully written 
short autobiographical sketch prefixed to his works, that Huxley 
was not in early life anything of what is commonly called a 
naturalist. Most men who have distinguished themselves in the 
field of zoology or paleontology have loved the subject from their 
early boyhood, a love generally shown by the formation of collec 
tions of- specimens. Huxley never did anything of the kind. Hig 
early tastes were for literature and for engineering. He attrib- 


uted the awakening of his interest in anatomy to Professor 
Wharton Jones' lectures at Charing Cross Hospital, where he 
received his medical education. Wharton Jones was one of the pio 
neers of microscopic research in this country ; a great enthusiast 
in his work, but a man of modest and exceedingly retiring dispo 
sition, and very little known outside a small circle of friends. 
He published several papers on histology in the Philosophical 
Transactions, and made a specialty of ophthalmic surgery. Per 
haps of his various contributions to the advancement of his sub 
ject, not the least important was that of making a scientific 
anatomist of Huxley. 

The next man who had a real influence upon Huxley's pro 
fessional career, was Sir John Richardson, a very keen zoologist, 
at that time Principal Medical Officer at Haslar Hospital, near 
Portsmouth, where the naval assistant surgeons first proceeded 
on appointment. It was through him, that Huxley was appointed 
to the surveying ship, the "Rattlesnake." He was not natural 
ist to the expedition, as has been sometimes said, indeed he 
would at this time have been hardly qualified for such a post, for 
although he had published a short paper on the microscopic 
structure of the human hair, he had as yet done no zoological 
work. Moreover, the ship did carry an accredited naturalist, 
John Macgillivray, who published a "Narrative of the Voyage of 
H. M. S. 'Rattlesnake/ during 1846-'50," in two volumes [1852]. 

Huxley's official duties were only with the health of the crew, 
and as he had a surgeon above him, he had plenty of leisure at 
his command. How this leisure was employed in laying the 
foundation upon which his future distinction rested has often 
been told. He had his microscope with him, and he threw him 
self with the greatest ardour into the investigation of the struc 
ture of the lowly organized, but beautiful, forms of animal life 
which abounded in the seas through which the ship sailed, and 
which the surveying operations in which she was engaged gave 
ample opportunities for observing under the most favorable con 
ditions. This was almost a new field of research. He became 
fascinated with it, and his success in its pursuit was the main 
cause of his adopting zoology as the principal subject to engage 
his energies during the rest of his life. 

Aa aid before, Huxley, unlike many other zoologists, was 
never a collector, and had not the slightest tincture of the spirit 


of a museum curator. He cared for a specimen according to the 
facilities it afforded for investigation. lie cut it up, got all the 
knowledge he could out of it, and threw it away. I believe he 
never made a preparation of any kind, and he cared little for 
directions sealed down in bottles. 

When, in 1862, he was appointed to the Hunterian Professor 
ship at the College of Surgeons, he took for the subject of several 
yearly courses of lectures, the anatomy of the vertebrata, begin 
ning with the primates, and as the subject was then rather new 
to him, and as it was a rule with him never to make a statement in 
a lecture that was not founded upon his own actual observation, he 
set to work to make a series of original dissections of all the 
forms he treated of. These were carried on in the workroom at 
the top of the college, and mostly in the evenings, after his daily 
occupation at Jermyn Street (The School of Mines, as it was 
then called) was over, an arrangement which my residence in 
the college buildings enabled me to make for him. These rooms 
contained a large store of material, entire or partially dissected 
animals preserved in spirit, which unlike those mounted in the 
museum, were available for further investigation in any direction, 
and these, supplemented occasionally by fresh subjects from the 
zoSlogical gardens, formed the foundation of the lectures, after 
wards condensed into the volume on the Anatomy of Vertebrated 
Animals, published in 1871. On these evenings it was always my 
privilege to be with him, and to assist in the work in which he 
was engaged. In dissecting, as in everything else, he was a very 
rapid worker, going straight to the point he wished to ascertain 
with a firm and steady hand, never diverted into side issues, nor 
wasting any time in unnecessary polishing up for the sake of ap 
pearances ; the very opposite in fact to what is commonly known 
as " finikin." His great facility for bold and dashing sketching 
came in most usefully in this work, the notes he made -being 
largely helped out by illustrations. He might have been a great 
artist, some of his anatomical sketches reminding me much of 
Sir Charles BelFs, but he never had time to cultivate his facul 
ties in this direction and I believe never attempted any finished 
work. His power of drawing on the black board during the lec 
tures was of great assistance to him and to his audience, and his 
outdoor sketches made during some of his travels, as in Egypt, 
though slight were full of artistic leeling. His genius was also 


conspicuously shown by the clever drawings, often full of playful 
fancy, which covered the paper that happened to be lying be 
fore him when sitting at a council or committee meeting. On 
such occasions his hand was rarely idle. 

It is very singular that, although, as admitted by all who 
heard him, he was one of the clearest and most eloquent of scien 
tific lecturers of his time, he always disliked lecturing, and the 
nervousness from which he suffered in his early days was never 
entirely overcome, however little apparent it might be to his 
audience. After his first public lecture at the Royal Institution 
he received an anonymous letter, telling him that he had better 
not try anything of the kind again, as whatever he was fit for, it 
was certainly not giving lectures ! Instead of being discouraged, 
he characteristically set to work to mend whatever faults he had 
of style and manner, with what success is well known. Never 
theless, he often told me of the awful feeling of alarm which 
always came over him on entering the door of the lecture room of 
the Royal Institution, or even the College of Surgeons, where the 
subject was most familiar and the audience entirely sympathetic. 
He had a feeling that he must break down before the lecture was 
over, and it was only by recalling to his memory the number of 
times he had lectured without anything of the kind happening, 
and then drawing conclusions as to the improbability of its occur 
ring now, that he was able to brace himself up to the effort of 
beginning his discourse. When once fairly away on his subject 
all such apprehensions were at an end. Such experiences are, of 
course, very common, but they were probably aggravated greatly 
in Huxley's case by the ill health, that miserable, hypochondriacal 
dyspepsia which, as he says himself, was his constant companion 
for the last half century of his life. Bearing in mind the serious 
inroad this made in the amount of time available for active 
employment, it is marvellous to think of the quantity he was able 
to accomplish. When the time comes for forming a just 
estimate of the value of his scientific work, and if quality as well 
as quantity be fairly taken into account, it will without doubt 
bear comparison with, if it will not exceed, that of any of his 

If, instead of taking up medicine and afterwards science as a 
profession, he had gone to the bar, he must infallibly have 
achieved the highest measure of success. As an advocate he 


could scarcely have been surpassed. His clear, penetrating in 
sight into the essentials of an intricate question, the rapidity 
with which he swept aside all that was irrelevant, and the forc 
ible way in which he could state the arguments for his own side 
of a case, and his brilliant power of repartee, would have been ir 
resistible in a court of justice. He was also free from a quality 
which paralyzes the effective action of many men of great mental 
capacity, the faculty of seeing something at least of both sides of 
a case at the same time. When he took up a cause he took it up 
in thorough earnest, and it must be admitted that there was 
then very little chance of his feeling any sympathy for the other 
side. He had some strong prejudices against doctrines, against 
institutions, and against individuals, and as his nature was abso 
lutely honest and truthful, he never cared to conceal them. On 
the other hand, no man was more loyal to the causes he ap 
proved of or the people he liked. He could always be relied 
upon to carry out to the uttermost of his power anything he had 
undertaken to do. To the younger workers in his own fields of 
research nothing could exceed his generous assistance, sympathy 
and encouragement. These qualities were, above all others, the 
main causes of the devoted attachment he won from everyone 
who was brought much into personal contact with him. 

In one of the recent biographical notices which have appeared 
of Huxley it is said that " no man of more reverent religious 
feeling ever trod this earth." This statement has much of 
truth in it. If the term "religious" be limited to acceptance 
of the formularies of one of the current creeds of the world, it can 
not be applied to Huxley, but no one could be intimate with him 
without feeling that he possessed a deep reverence for " whatsoever 
things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things 
are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, 
whatsoever things are of good report," and an abhorrence of all 
that is the reverse of these, and that, although he found difficulty 
in expressing it in definite words, he had a pervading sense of ado 
ration of the infinite, very much akin to the highest religion. 




IT HAS often been remarked that a history of the Society of 
Christian Endeavor is a story of great religious conventions. 
This organization seems to have inaugurated a new era in the 
history of religious conventions the world around, for Christian 
Endeavor conventions are not indigenous to the American soil 
alone, or at least if they are exotics in other lands, they flourish 
quite as well as in their native soil. The Christian Endeavor 
Society in Australia and in England, and even in China, has been 
marked by the greatest religious gatherings of this character 
which these countries have known, and the wonderful scene 
enacted in Boston in July has been duplicated on a smaller scale 
in Sydney, and Melbourne, and Adelaide, and Shanghai, and 
London, and Birmingham, and Glasgow. 

Wherever the Endeavor Society has taken root, and there are 
few lands now in all the world where it has not taken root, one 
of its first developments is the massing together in vast conven 
tions of earnest young people who desire to find better ways 
of working for the church, for their country, and for hu 

Even the early history of the Christian Endeavor movement 
was marked by some remarkable conventions. Not that these 
gatherings received very much attention in the daily papers or 
even in the religious press of the day, but they were none the less 
remarkable for the spirit and purpose which pervaded them, and 
for the promise which they gave of larger things as the society 
should grow in numbers and influence. 

When the first society, that of the Williston Church in Port 
land, Me., was scarcely seventeen months old, the first conven- 


tion was held in the parent church. Then there were known to he 
in existence only six or seven societies in all the world, though 
doubtless there were a number of others of which we had no 
record. These societies were invited to send delegates one June 
day in 1882 to the Williston Church, and a very pleasant and 
significantly prophetic convention was then held. 

Of course the numbers were small, for all the Endeavorers 
then in the world, probably, would not have filled even a very 
moderate-sized church, but those who came together found 
ample reason for the convocation. They found questions of 
interest to discuss and much joy in their interdenominational 
fellowship, and one and all voted this first convention a decided 
success, which ought to be repeated in the future years. 

The next year a larger gathering was held in another church 
of the same city, the historic old Second Parish Church, of 
which the Rev. Edward Paysou was an early pastor. By this time 
the societies had multiplied, and this meeting was naturally 
larger and more full of interest and promise than the convention 
of 1882. From that day to the present, as the societies have 
rapidly increased in numbers and zeal and esprit de corpo, the 
conventions have increased in like proportion. 

The meetings held in 1886 and 1887 at Saratoga Springs will 
long be remembered by all who attended them for their spiritual 
flavor and the joyous earnestness of those who came together. As 
in almost every year since, the numbers far exceeded the expecta 
tions ; a fact which is true 'of very few religious gatherings or 
convocations of any other kind, and it was a great surprise to 
many an Jiabitu^ of Saratoga, somewhat blase, as it must be con 
fessed he sometimes is by reason of hops and congress water and 
horse races and Kissingen, to find the sidewalk in the vicinity of 
the large Methodist Church thronged with Endeavorers at half- 
past six in the morning, waiting until the church could be un 
locked, and to find that the interest of the multitude was centered 
in an early morning prayer meeting. 

The first great convention, so far as numbers were concerned, 
was the one held in Chicago in the following year, in 1888, in 
the armory hall of Battery D. Five thousand it is thought at 
tended this meeting, and though not a tenth part of the numbers 
found at the present conventions, that was then considered a most 
surprising gathering, and was declared by more than oue religious 


writer to be the largest religious gathering ever held in the his 
tory of the Christian church. 

Philadelphia welcomed 7,000 to her ample hospitality the next 
year, St. Louis 11,000 in 1890, Minneapolis 14,000 in 1891, New 
York 30,000 in 1892. With each succeeding year as the throngs 
grew larger the conventions excited more and more attention. 
Particularly was this true of the convention at New York. 

It was with the greatest difficulty that the people of the 
metropolis conld be brought to realize that a concourse of any 
size was coming within their borders. One hotel keeper, when 
the committee of assignments sought places of entertainment, 
offered to take the whole convention within his ample hostelry. 
When asked if he knew how many were coming, he replied that 
he did not care how many were coming, that his hotel would 
accommodate 1,500 guests, that he had provided for many con 
ventions in the past, and, as the summer season was a slack time 
for him, he could take in the whole convention as well as not. 
When informed by the committee of arrangements that there 
would doubtless be ten times 1,500 people present he whistled 
softly, a low, incredulous note, and bestowed a look of supreme 
pity, not unmixed slightly with contempt, upon the well-mean 
ing religious enthusiast who confronted him. But not ten times 
1,500, but twenty times 1,500 were the final figures which told of 
the throngs of Christian Endeavorers who poured into New York 
City for the eleventh International Christian Endeavor conven 
tion. The papers found themselves suddenly with a great 
problem upon their hands, to report worthily so vast a convoca 
tion. They rose to the occasion, however, at least some of them 
did, and gave most generous space to this remarkable gathering. 

The Hon. Chauncey Depew, with the pleasant facetiousness 
which so becomes him, declared, when he addressed the great throng 
in Madison Square Garden, that " New York never looked so fresh 
and green as it did on that joyous occasion." But the young 
people forgave his joke and applauded the somewhat equivocal 
compliment to the echo, for they knew, as did every one else who 
looked around on that throng of radiant faces, that the stalwart 
young men of America and the fair young women from country 
and city were there with their faces all illumined with the light 
of a high and noble purpose to win their land, or so much of it 
as they are responsible for, to the highest and noblest ends. 

YOL. CLXI. NO. 466. 19 


The personnel of these conventions is as remarkable as the 
numbers brought together. Every one who studies the faces and 
mingles with the throngs at these yearly gatherings remarks upon 
this feature. You must needs search far and long for a milksop 
or a goody-goody youth or maiden, unless their faces strangely 
belie their characters. Strong young business men, students 
from our colleges and academies, maidens from all ranks of soci 
ety, but all intelligent and purposeful, abound everywhere. They 
are quick to catch the speaker's point, eager to applaud the senti 
ments which appeal to their hearts and to their common sense ; 
always ready at the open parliaments with modest suggestions 
and sensible plans for the carrying on of their work ; alert, keen, 
quick witted are the tens of thousands who now annually come 
to the movable Christian Endeavor fen^t. 

The proportion of young men at these conventions is a very 
striking feature. A journal devoted to the interests of women 
has recently declared that of the sixty thousand who attended the 
convention in Boston, fifty thousand were young women. This 
is a huge mistake, though if the statement were true I do not 
mean to intimate that the fact would be derogatory to the con 
vention. But, as a matter of fact, nearly if not quite one-half, 
certainly of those who came from a distance, are young men, as 
a glance at almost any of the audiences would prove. The con 
vention of 1893 at Montreal was smaller than the New York 
gathering, largely because those who come to the convention 
must all come from a distance. There is but a small local con 
stituency of Christian Endeavorers in Montreal. Still some 
seventeen or eighteen thousand attended this convention, most 
of them coming from a long distance, and probably the number 
of miles travelled by the delegates in the aggregate was far larger 
than at any preceding gathering, and in spiritual tone and pur 
pose the convention was quite up to its predecessors. 

The convention of 1894 was held in the city of Cleveland, 
and, to all appearances, the most unpropitious week in all the 
century was chosen for the gathering. The intense commercial 
depression of the previous twelve months had been followed by 
the most gigantic strike in the annals of American labor organi 
zations. Almost every railway in the United States was tied up 
or was in danger of being blockaded by the strikers. An abso 
lute embargo was laid on the delegates from the Pacific Coast, 


and, in fact, on many from nearer Western States, who could 
not, whatever their intention, reach the convention, as no trains 
were running. Those who came from the East were uncertain 
about reaching the fair city by the lake, or, if they reached it, 
whether they would be able to get to their homes again. It was 
freely predicted, even by those who knew something of the pluck 
and persistency of Christian Endeavorers, that the convention 
would necessarily be a small one, and all were amazed when the 
news was flashed over the wires that this was the largest conven 
tion in the history of the movement, and that fully forty thousand 
people were in attendance at the meeting. Half of these 
came from outside of the city of Cleveland and immediate 

Great things were naturally expected of the last convention 
which has just closed in Boston, and these great expectations were 
not in any way disappointed. It was thought that there would be 
fifty thousand people in attendance. As a matter of fact 56,425 
registered delegates were recorded, and there were probably 
thousands and perhaps tens of thousands of others who had some 
part in the convention, and attended some of the sessions, though 
they were not registered as Christian Endeavorers. For months 
in advance preparations were made for this meeting most care 
fully and elaborately. " The Committee of Thirteen/' of which 
the Hon. S. B. Capen was the chairman, or " the Committee of 
'95" as it is sometimes called if any one objects to the unlucky 
number, was simply at the head of a vast committee numbering 
over four thousand individuals, a committee which the largest 
church in Boston could not hold when they attempted to have a 
mass meeting to prepare for the convention. These committees 
were to welcome the guests when they arrived, to find homes for 
them and to pilot them thither, to perform the duties of ushers 
in the churches and the great auditoriums, to raise the necessary 
money for the use of the convention, to look after the printing 
and the hall accommodations ; in fact, to perform the thousand 
and one duties incident to the preparation for such a vast gather 
ing and for its proper accommodation after the meeting began. 

The convention choir consisted of a chorus of three thousand 
voices which was divided into three parts, a thousand going to 
each of the three large auditoriums. To secure places of meet 
ing of sufficient size is naturally one of the great problems of such 


a gathering. Long ago it was found that no one hall in America 
is large enough to accommodate those who come together, and if 
such a hall could be found there is no voice in America big 
enough to fill it. Naturally, then, the thing to do is to divide the 
audience into smaller groups whicty are yet large enough to give 
the effect of an immense mass meeting, while yet within the 
compass of the most powerful voices. For the Boston conven 
tion the great Mechanics' Hall with its capacity of ten thousand, 
and two great tents, built for the occasion, each one of which 
when crowded would hold as many more, were secured. Besides, 
many churches were generously offered to the convention, and 
not less than two hundred of them in all were used. 

Thus it will be seen that though all could not get into the audi 
toriums at any one time, all were accommodated somewhere, and 
provision was made not only for the fifty-six thousand who came 
to Boston but for tens of thousands of the people of Boston who 
desired to get within sight and sound of the convention. 

As a matter of fact, all the delegates themselves did not expect 
to attend all the sessions, nor was it expected that they would. 
Many of them came from a distance of fifty or sixty miles, going 
back and forth to their homes every day, attending what sessions 
they could and content with getting the inspiration and stimulus 
of the great gathering. So, while there were many who could 
not get to the particular session which they desired, all could 
attend the convention, and there was surprisingly little complaint 
from the young people, whom I have come to regard, after long 
experience of these annual gatherings, to be the best natured and 
sunniest company in all the world. 

The city of Boston entered heartily into the plans for the con 
vention. It realized in advance what was coming, and every 
thing was done to give the visitors a most royal welcome. The 
public gardens were decorated with Chistian Endeavor colors, and 
Christian Endeavor emblems and monograms ; the entrance to 
the parks were through arches which told of Boston's greeting, 
while many of the merchants covered their stores with red and 
white bunting, the convention colors, or set them ablaze at night 
with Christian Endeavor emblems in electric light. 

The daily papers vied with each other to give the best account 
of the meetings. Every day for weeks in advance many columns 
and a multitude of pictures heralded the advancing host, and 


when the convention actually came pages and pages were given 
each day to a verbatim report of the proceedings. 

It can be imagined that to prepare the programme for such a 
convention is no slight task. More than a thousand speakers had 
part in the exercises. The convention programme, abbreviated as 
it was, with many parts only indicated and the speakers' names 
not given, covered nearly forty pages of closely packed type. 
Moreover, so far as possible, speakers with iron throats and brazen 
lungs, who can make themselves heard in the great assemblies, 
must be chosen, and something like thirty denominations must be 
represented upon the programme. But almost without a break 
the programme was carried through, and always on time. 

It may be asked, is it not almost impossible to conduct or con 
trol such a vast and apparently tumultuous assembly ? I would 
reply that never was there an easier convention to control than 
this same Boston convention. The gavels which had been pre 
sented for use in the different auditoriums were scarcely required 
at all. A single suggestion from the presiding officer was enough 
to induce perfect quiet and attention. Not a disagreeable inci 
dent from beginning to end occurred to my knowledge, but in all 
the assemblies every one seemed to strive to do as they would be 
done by, speakers and hearers alike. The tide of enthusiasm 
rolled higher and higher to the very end, and the consecration 
meeting with which the convention closed was the most remark 
able of the series. 

But it may be asked, what is the rationale of these conven 
tions ? How can they be accounted for ? What roots lie 
beneath the surface from which this flower draws its life ? 

J[ know of no other answer except that which is found in the 
principles of the Christian Endeavor movement. Like the move 
ment itself, the conventions are very democratic affairs. I have 
spoken of the ' ( delegates/' but in a strict sense of the word there 
are no delegates. The conventions are mass meetings, to which 
all Christian Endeavorers are welcomed on the same basis. The 
conventions have no legislative powers, no binding votes are taken, 
there is no wrangling over creeds or polity, there are no offices to 
fill, and no spoils to be divided. More strictly than any other 
convention of which I know are these mass meetings for inspira 
tion and fellowship, and not for business or politics. This is 
entirely in accord with the genius of the Christian Endeavor 


movement. There is no boss or dictator in Christian Endeavor. 
Every society accepts the will of its own church as final and 
supreme. There is no other arbitrator. No United Society, or 
State, or Provincial Union in all the world seeks to legislate for 
any local society. The duties of a Christian Endeavor society are 
fulfilled when it does those things which its church and pastor 
would like to have it do. As a matter of course, then, these con 
ventions, when they assemble, can give themselves entirely to 
fellowship and the inspiration of the hour ; and the results are 
seen in the thronging thousands who go back to their homes and 
their churches to live better lives and do nobler work than ever 

Again, the success of these conventions can be accounted for 
by their flexibility and adaptability to circumstances. The con 
vention in Shanghai was in its way as great a success as the con 
vention in Boston, because it adapted itself to the needs of China 
as the Boston convention did to the needs of the young peo 
ple of America. The need of America in the present day is 
evidently a better citizenship, a purer political atmosphere, and 
this has been the ringing keynote which has been struck at every 
one of the last three conventions. The applause with which this 
note has been received when struck, and the enthusiasm with 
which Christian Endeavorers everywhere have carried out the 
thought, has shown the adaptability of the movement to every 
passing phase of American life. A Tammany not only over 
thrown, but a Tammany forevermore impossible in America, was 
one great thought of the Boston convention, and five times ten 
thousand hearts pledged themselves quietly, but none the less 
sincerely, to a better citizenship and a purer government for our 
great cities and for our nation. 

' 'If I cannot have a vote," said one young lady, "I can have 
a voter, and I will do my utmost to see that he votes right on 
moral questions," and her sentiment was as heartily applauded 
by the sex that votes as by the one which as yet has no ballot save 
in Colorado and Wyoming. 

In a multitude of places throughout the country these efforts 
for good citizenship, which are started at these conventions, are 
multiplied and reduplicated as the convention echoes are heard 
in every city and hamlet of the nation. Not as a political party, 
not by allying itself to any politician or to any political measure, 


but standing in all political parties for righteousness and purity, 
the Christian Endeavorers, if not the Christian Endeavor Society 
of the future, will have a mighty influence and as wholesome, I 
believe, as mighty over the destiny of our Republic. 

Other dominant notes are struck at these conventions, though 
none more persistently of late years than this note of good citi 
zenship Missionary interests are always kept to the fore, and 
the broadest interpretation is given to the word "missionary." 
Work for the poor; for the "submerged tenth" in 'our great 
cities ; relief of the sick and destitute; the carrying of sun&hine 
and flowers to those whose lives are dreary and barren, and the 
transportation to fresh fields and pastures new of those who or 
dinarily breathe the foul air of the-slums, are some of the mis 
sionary efforts of Christian Endeavorers. 

They remember also that they have a duty, and an especial 
duty, to their own denominational missionary boards, in their ef 
forts to win the world to Christ. *As a result the contributions 
from the societies during the last year, for distinctively mission 
ary purposes, amounted to nearly half a million of dollars. 

Another idea, necessarily prominent during these conven 
tions, is that of interdenominational fellowship. The society is 
not undenominational, as it is sometimes called, but interdenom 
inational. Each local society is as denominational as the church 
to which it belongs, but in its wider relation, and especially in 
its international conventions, it is broadly interdenominational. 
In this feature lies one of the great and enduring charms of 
these conventions. They bring together young Christians of all 
Evangelical names and creeds in a most gracious fellowship. 
While doctrinaires are discussing Christian union, and proposing 
various bases for the coming together of the forces of Christen 
dom, Christian Endeavorers are enjoying Christian Union, with 
out saying much about it. 

Some one has wisely said, that " Christian union is much like 
silence ; it is apt to be broken when you begin to talk about it/' 
The Christian Endeavorers do not say very much about Christian 
Union. They do not expect organic unity, or the destruction of de. 
nominations, for they understand that denominations stand for the 
emphasis of great ideas, and they know that there is a great differ 
ence between denorninationalism and sectarianism. Christian 
Endeavor is an inveterate foe to sectarianism, but is a friend of a 


broad-minded, warm-hearted denerninationalism. The denomi 
national rallies at the conventions are meetings of great power and 
interest, and are entirely in harmony with the interdenominational 
character of the gathering, which draws its chief inspiration from 
this demonstration of the practical oneness of Christians of every 

Never were the prospects for the triumph of this interdenomi 
national fellowship so bright as at present. Though strenu 
ously opposed in some quarters, and much misrepresented in 
others, it is constantly winning its way. The fellowship is en 
larging by hundreds of thousands every year. Every month sees 
four times ten thousand earnest youths joining this fraternity, 
which stands for loyalty as well as fellowship, for fidelity as well 
as for fraternity. Never did the young people before so hear the 
call which summons them to duty for their country, for their com 
munity, for their church, for their God. To the genuine spirit 
of the movement they have responded most surprisingly, and are 
constantly going forward to larger victories. 

In the light of the history of the last fourteen years the hymn 
written by the author of "America" for the Boston convention 
is evidently prophetic of the future : 

Arouse ye, arouse ye! O servants of God, 
His right arm your strength, and your leader His rod, 
O, haste from the north, from the south, to His call, 
His cause shall prevail, He shall reign over all. 
Farewell to your dreaming I No longer delay I 
Go tell the glad tidings God's hand points the way. 
Go forward! go forward! to conquer, or die- 
God will make sure the victory. 


Haste and bear the banner forth 
East and west, and south and north; 
Haste to lift the cross on high, 

The pledge of victory. 
Haste and bear the banner forth, 
East and west, and south and north; 
Haste to lift the cross on high, 

The pledge of victory, 

The cross and victory. 




GREAT movements, whether of mind or matter, of nations or 
of planets, of civilizations or of comets, of philosophy, of religion, 
or of wealth-production, are the results of the action of great 
natural forces, and have, in all cases, a definable route and rate of 
motion. As the writer has often put it : " Nature never turns a 
sharp corner " in any such movement, and the mighty flux of 
material and of intellectual forces, and the grand resultant flow of 
the current of material, or of intangible progress, must always be 
as steady and as smooth as that of a great river flowing through a 
plain. It may deviate, and even turn upon itself at times, but 
it must have a smooth curve, if not a rectilinear course. Now 
and then some great moral or physical obstruction may impede 
or divert its stream, but only mighty forces, commensurate with 
the tremendous inertia of the mass affected, can produce imme 
diate or marked effects upon either its magnitude or its direction. 

It thus comes that, if we can trace the line of progress during 
the immediate past, if we are able to follow it during past cen 
turies or bygone ages, we may lay down upon the chart the line 
of its earlier course, to date, and can see at once what must, 
inevitably, be the direction, the rate, and the distance gained, in 
any stated time in the immediate future, provided new and catas 
trophic phenomena do not, by their unexpected and unforseeable 
action, invalidate all prophecy. Given the curve of human 
progress, in any field, as representing the immediate past, the 
immediate future becomes knowable with a degree of accuracy 
and certainty, which is the greater as the forces and the masses 
affected by them are the greater. The terminal portion of our 
curve exhibits the tendency, and the direction of movement, at the 



moment ; and if no great physical or moral force threatens to 
introduce a new deviating power, or to cause some catastrophe, 
the progress of to-day will be, inevitably, the outcome of the 
progress of yesterday and the introduction to the progress of to- 

(FIGURE 1.) 

morrow, with unchanged, or little changed, rectilinear or curvi 
linear advance. The rate of progress of education, or of wealth- 
accumulation, in 1895, must be substantially correct as a gauge 
of that of 1896, or with, perhaps, a little less exactness, of that 
of 1900. A great war, or a world-wide commercial depression, 


or a "reformation/' may now and then, in the course of the cen 
turies, affect these great social currents of progress ; but, if 
nothing at the moment looms up, threatening the immediate 
future, the trend of human or of national progress may be con 
sidered as fully established. 

The distinguished statistician, Mr. Mulhall, in a recent issue 
of the NORTH AMERICAN EEVIEW, has given the data which 
permit the establishment of the curves of progress of the nation, 
from early in the century to date, and thus their approximate 
establishment in location, form, and direction, for the immediate 
future. No great war occurring, and no serious catastrophe of 
other kind taking place, we may obtain an idea of the probable 
future movement, in its extent and direction, and in results ; the 
accuracy of which will be more or less certain accordingly as the 
curve, so far as laid down from our data, is more or less smooth 
and even and persistent in its line. The tendencies of the mo 
ment are within the view of the student, and the immediate 
future comes into the field of view of the clairvoyant scholar. 

Taking up this mass of most interesting and instructive data, 
let us construct our curves and observe what they represent and 
to what they point ; and let us see what we can discover of the 
trend of national progress in growth, in wealth, in knowledge, 
and in power. 

The basis of all wealth and the measure of the power of 
accumulation of wealth is the aggregate working power of a 
people. The working power of a civilized people has come to be 
measured by the total of its steam power. The growth in its 
total "horse power" in steam engines of all kinds is the measure 
of its growth in all the material foundation of civilization and 
progress, and thus material progress underlies progress in all the 
arts and sciences, and every intellectual as well as material ad 
vance. The first of our diagrams (Figure 1, A) exhibits the trend 
of our progress in developing power of national advancement. 
Its smooth, steady curvature shows not only advance and con 
stant gain, but a steady and continuous gain in rate of gain. 
A straight line would simulate gain by simple interest ; our 
curves, A to Z>, simulate gain by compound interest with fre 
quently recurring periods of payment. The century has seen 
great gain in power of doing work, of accumulating wealth, and 
great gain in rapidity of gain of power and wealth. All our 



subsequent deductions confirm this primary and essential, this 
fundamental, conclusion. The United States of North America 
constitutes not only the most powerful of nations, in the most 
literal and meaning sense, but it is all the time increasing its 
speed in the race and as constantly more and more rapidly dis 
tancing its competitors. As we shall see presently, its greater 
and growing intelligence, its great inventive power, fostered by 
our exceptionally effective patent system; its industry, its educa 
tion; its conscientious acceptance of the correct principles of 
morals and of economics, as they are brought forward and generally 
discussed all these, and other and concomitant qualities, give 
good reason for Mulhall's closing and enthusiastic prediction, as 
well as for all the eloquence and pride and confidence of Carnegie. 


iQifO '8SO '660 I8JO 'f$O 


(FIGURE 2.) 

In Figure 1, the line A is the expression of the fact and the 
law of our progress from 1820 to 1895 ; and the dotted portion 
shows clearly what is to be anticipated in the immediate future, 
if no catastrophic and unanticipated change in the conditions de 
termining the fact and the law occurs. The smoothness of the 
curve and its regularity of curvature prove that natural causes 
have operated very steadily and continuously, in spite of occa 
sional " crises," and that we may fairly assume the continuation 
of the curve in the same geometric relations to give us a prophecy 
of the coming years. Our total physical power for use in driving 
machinery, for wealth production, has risen from about 4,300,- 
000,000 foot-tons, daily, in 1820 the equivalent of lifting a ton 



800,000 miles to nearly ten times that figure in 1860, and to 
thirty times that power in 1895. It is seen that it must become 
something like forty times as much, about 150,000,000,000, in 
1900. Human power is seen to be growing slowly, i. e., in pro 
portion to population, simply ; while steam-power, coming in 
with Watt's perfection of the engine, at the beginning of the 
century, will amount to one-half the total this year, and aggre 
gate 80,000,000 in 1900, and 110,000,000,000 in 1910. Horse 
power, steadily growing at a moderate rate, though much faster 
than population, in the earlier half-century, and greater by far 
than steam-power, finally is eclipsed about 1880 by the latter, 
and, though still rapidly and steadily growing, falls far behind at 
the end of the century. Steam-power measures most accurately, 
probably, the ability to accumulate all those comforts and luxuries 
which constitute modern civilization, and it is seen that the 
trend of the line is there most rapidly upward. A glance at the 

O 10 20 30 40 SO .60 70. 60 ,90 ,100 JIO JiO J30 ',<> 


(FlGUKE 3.) 

succeeding diagrams will show the details of this progress and 
confirm our first and fundamental deduction. 

Figure 2 simply classifies the forms of steam power into 
marine, stationary, locomotive, and gives their aggregate. The 
mightiest gain is seen to be in locomotive engines on our rail 
roads. These curves show not only what are the figures for the 
past and the present, and for the next few years ; but their uni 
formly steady curvature proves that we may fairly anticipate their 
continuation, with the same steady smooth sweep, for a quarter 
or a half century to come, should no catastrophe or revolution 
izing invention break up our industrial methods and radically 
change social conditions. The horse-power of all steam engines 
to date has come to be about 17,000,000, will be nearly 
25,000,000 in 1900, and double that figure in another quarter- 
century. The striking fact, here, is the proportion in which 
transportation demands power, as shown by the sum of the 



figures for railroads and steamboats. The curve for stationary 
engines exhibits the proportion devoted to manufacturing the 
articles transported. In every case the trend of progress is on 
ward and upward, and with an accelerating velocity. 

The next cluster of diagrams illustrates present momentary 
relations, as to numerical and comparative quantity, of the prin 
cipal nations, as obtained by laying down Mulhairs data. Fig 
ure '6 places side by side the figures for available power of wealth- 
production, and we find the United States leading all nations 


(FIGURE 4.) 

and doubling the amount assigned even to the leader among 
European countries, Great Britain. Germany is third, France 
fourth, and the other nations fall far behind. Keducing these 
figures to the measure of the working power per inhabitant, as 
in Figure 4, however, we get a more correct basis of comparison, 
as a gauge of the character of the nation and its civilization. 
Here we find that the United States is still in the van ; but Great 
Britain is a close second and the inhabitant of France or Ger- 

JO 40 SO 60 70 80 .90 .100 













(FIGURE 5.) 

many has but about one-half as much power of wealth-production 
as the inhabitant of the United States. Figures 5 and 6 throw 
some light upon the national habits, policies, and capacities. 
They show the agricultural production of these nations. The 
United States not only produces enormously more grain, and other 
products, than either of the other great nations, but, what is 
vastly more important, interesting, and instructive, twice as much 



per worker as even Great Britain. This is at once proof of the 
ingenuity of our people, in making the natural powers and all 
machinery do their work, of the value and marvellous helpfulness 
of our patent system, and of the ability of our people to make 
their work tell most effectively in the application of wealth-pro 
ducing powers to the production of the permanent forms of wealth, 
where other nations are compelled to devote their energies more 
largely to the production of the perishable articles food, for ex 
ample. That nation which can turn its power, mainly, into the 

ASSUMING I0<-^- OFMEA Ton2GAu? of 

(FIGURE 6.) 

production of the former kinds of wealth obviously will, other 
things equal, accumulate wealth and promote the comfort and 
content of its citizens most rapidly. 

Figures 7 and 8 are even more interesting to the economist 
and to the statesman. The appropriation of public funds to edu 
cational purposes is seen to be about three times as much in 








(FIGURE 7.) 

the United States as even in Great Britain, and five times as 
much as in France and Germany, ten times as much as in Austria. 
The expenditure per capita is nearly double that of Great Britain, 
three and five times that, respectively, of France and Germany, 
and ten times that of Italy. These figures may perhaps be taken 
as the natural resultant of the preceding or, rather, these figures, 
representative of the intelligence of the country, in close degree, 
together with the freedom of the nation, and its inventiveness, 
stimulated by both freedom and a good system of patent law, are 



the basis of the wonderful gains already illustrated. Figure 9 
shows the number of letters sent, per inhabitant, in each country, 
and measures the intelligence of its people. Figure 10 exhibits 

o o ; so i.oo /so 









(FIGURE 8.) 

the wealth per capita, the natural and inevitable consequence 
of that ratio of intelligence with this marked qualification the 
wealth of the United States is the accumulation of a single cen- 


10 20 30 40 50 60 70 SO .90 100 110 120 





(FIGURE 9.) 

tury; that of Great Britain comes of intelligently directed ener 
gies, in commerce and manufactures, for centuries, and the other 
European countries have the same advantage in respect to time, 


100 200/300 400 500 600 700 







(FIGURE 10.) 

only. Accumulations of centuries place three European nations 
ahead of the United States in this aggregate; but the gains are most 
rapid with our own country, and we shall soon take the lead. 
Our public school system and the coming universality of the pol- 



icy, on the part of the States, of taking charge of and liberally sup 
porting higher education, as in the State universities and the pos 
sibly soon-to-be-founded National University, gives this country 
much of this extraordinary advantage and goes far toward making 
it the leader of the world in growth, in wealth, both material 
and intellectual. The trend of our progress is constantly onward 
and continually at such a rate of movement and of acceleration 


















































<* /820 '830 '8*>0 1350 I860 '870 '880 '890 '900 

(FIGURE 11.) 

as well, as must steadily increase our relative and our actual alti 

Figure 11 exhibits this growth of wealth, in the United States, 
as the product of the inconceivable physical power applied by our 
people to its production. The lower curve, and the lower and 
left-hand scales, illustrate the total wealth of the nation, and its 
growth from the beginning of the century, while the dotted lines, 
VOL, CLXI. NO. 466. 20 



as before, indicate the future probable growth. From 1820 or 
1830, wealth has been rapidly increasing with an accelerated 
ratio. That is to say, from the date of the perfection of Watt's 
steam engine and its application to mills and factories, and to 
steamboats and railroads, wealth has accumulated with a contin 
ually increasing rate of accumulation. From 2,000,000,000 in 
1820, it has come to be 65,000,000,000 in 1890, and may be ex 
pected to become fifty per cent, more in 1900, and to double in 
the next quarter of a century. But the upper curve, of which 



(FIGURE 12.) 

the quantities are reduced to dollars per capita, is a better index 
of our progress and its trend. The right-hand scale applies here. 

The wealth, per inhabitant, was but $200 per capita in 18^0; 
it was $1,000 in 18UO, is now $1,120, and will be $1,200 in 1900. 

The smooth and steady curvature of the line indicates that we 
may expect this gain to continue, indefinitely, into the coming 
decades at least, and that, with wise administration of the gov 
ernment, with repression of economic heresies and follies, and 
with continued industry and growing intelligence as the outcome 
of more and more general and complete education, our people 
may anticipate a total wealth of $2,000 for every man, woman 
and child in the community, within the first quarter of the new 
century. When it is remembered that this people to-day enjoys 



all the comforts, and many of the luxuries, of our fathers* gener 
ation, and that nearly all the coming gains of working power and 
in production will be applied to the securing of still greater 
comfort and of still more general distribution of luxuries, it can 
be seen very clearly that only their own follies can probably pre 
vent this people from enjoying such a life as only poets have hith 
erto dreamed of, and that within the next one or two generations 















/ ' 













1 " 







__-- - 






(FIGURE 13.) 

at latest. Our grandchildren will see this coming of a millennial 
period lacking, perhaps, only the moral element so far as our 
people choose to forego that most essential of all its elements. 
In material comfort and prosperity the addition of a thousand 
dollars' worth of comfort and of luxury to every household, for 


each one of its members, should give marvellous improvement in 
an even now marvellously fortunate country. 

Figure 12 shows how this wealth is, and is to be, distributed. 
It was mainly rural in the early days of the century ; it was 
equally divided between city and country in 1855, and it is to 
day three-fourths urban. This means that both people and 
property are accumulating in the cities, a fact long since recog 
nized by every statistician. It means further, that the country 
is supplying the city with its surplus population, and that the 
city is paying that surplus better wages than can be paid in the 
country. It means, again, that the attractions of city life are 
steadily becoming more seductive, and that the coming ideal 
life of the every-day citizen is a city, and not a country, life. 
In 1900 the cities will contain between three and four times as 
much wealth as the country. This surplus of wealth will be 
devoted to the construction of attractive homes, to the sanitary 
improvement of the towns, to the provision of educational and 
other intellectual advantages that, in the aggregate, must make 
the city more and more attractive, in a thousand ways. The 
tendency is, in many ways, unfortunate ; but it is certain and 
we must make the most and the best of it. A distinguished 
engineer, in a lecture recently given to the young men of his 
profession at Cornell University, suggested that, after all, with 
the coming improvements in sanitation and education in cities, 
it may prove that the vision of the prophet, of a heavenly city, 
may not be altogether unjustified, and the coming earthly para 
dise, like the heavenly one, may prove to be urban. 

Figure 13 shows how wages are and will be distributed out of 
this wealth production. Before 1860 the wages were what we 
should to-day think very low ; but, since the institution of the 
embargo by the civil war, and the partial embargo of the late 
war-tariff, all wages have been steadily and rapidly climbing, 
with that same acceleration of rate of gain which has been every 
where else observed. Almost five times as much is paid out 
as wages, each year, as is measured off as the total capital of the 
country at the time. 

But the striking and encouraging fact is exhibited in the 
lower of these two curves. The wages paid each operative, less 
than $300 in 1860, is nearly $600 to-day, and will be above $600 
per annum in 1900, if nothing occurs to disturb our present pros- 



perity and the conditions of progress. In a few years more, the 
wages paid, on the average, per individual worker, will be as 
great as to-day supports the average well-to-do family. Of all 
our curves, this is one of the most rapid in its rise, and this 
means that the distribution of wealth is continually coming 
to be more and more equalized, and that the average day 
laborer, and the workman of every grade, will continually profit 
more and more, and will gain constantly a larger and a larger 
share of this distribution. Wealth will be more and more equally 
distributed, just as long as present social and economic condi 
tions are maintained in a wholesome and uncrippled state. The 






18SO /86O '870 


(FIGURE 14.) 

working people of the United States are rapidly taking possession 
of its wealth, as they always have held possession of its policy and 
of its legislation. In fact, while we may boast many millionaires, 
as we boast of an occasional giant stalk of corn or tall wheat- 
straw, it is the people as a whole, and the average working citi 
zens, of whom we must think as the makers of the nation and 
the creators of its wealth. It is the average citizen, no less, who 
possesses that wealth and who directs the progress of the 

The point made at the beginning of this article -that future 


gains of power and wealth will take the direction of improving 
the condition of the people directly, by giving more universal 
distribution of comfort and of luxuries, is well illustrated in the 
next diagram. Figure 14 shows the divisions of wealth, as class 
ified by Mulhall, into a half dozen principal forms of invest 
ment. Wealth in cattle and herds grows slowly, as our facilities 
for transportation bring into the market a widening area of meat- 
producing country, and the markets of the world are supplied 
from Texas, from South America and Australia, prices are thus 
held down, and the people are able to buy their meat at low rela 
tive cost. Factories represent the next largest investment. But 
here improvements in the arts are continually making each more 
productive, and also making their erection and operation cheaper 
and more fruitful, relatively; so that while we are producing 
enormously more extensively than formerly, it is with relatively 
slow increase in the amount of our funds so invested. Railroads 
follow the general course of the curves already presented as 
those of steam power. They will, in 1900 or a little later, have 
the full value of all the Jands of the nation. 

But the curves for houses and for "sundries" are the most 
striking, when interpreted. The growth in value of real prop 
erty is seen to be very steady and uniform. This fact, taken in 
conjunction with the known decrease of costs of construction, 
shows how steadily and how rapidly the people are coming to 
possess comfortable homes and permanent residences. This is 
the foundation of all the material good in life. 

It is the curve of " Sundries " that most of all interests us. 
Tnis includes all the thousand and one articles of comfort and 
luxury which make the life of the people worth living. It is in 
the production of a higher and steeper curve that our growing 
power is largely applied. It is this curve which best shows the 
trend of our modern progress in all material civilization. Our 
mills, our factories, our workshops of every kind are mainly 
engaged in supplying our people with the comforts and the luxu 
ries of modern life, and in converting crudeness and barbarism 
into cultured civilization. Measured by this gauge, we are fifty 
per cent, more comfortable than in 1880, sixteen times as com 
fortable as were our parents in 1850, and our children, in 1900 to 
1910, will have twice as many luxuries and live twice as easy and 
comfortable lives, if they choose so to do, as do we to-day. 


Some important conclusions are easily and very positively de- 
ducible from the study of these curves and diagrams. Tnus : 

(1). It is evident that great social and economic laws are in 
steady, nnintermitted operation, covering with broad sweep, 
industrially as well as chronologically, the trend of modern prog 
ress, and controlling the development, in wealth, education, 
and all material and intellectual lines, of every civilized 

(2). These laws insure steady progress, for decades, probably 
for centuries, and with steady acceleration, as well, and without 
much regard to ( ' crises," or to what are called good and bad 

(3). The trend of progress during past decades, and its direc 
tion and acceleration at the moment, constitute the best guide in 
predicting a probable future for our industrial and social system. 

(4). This guide indicates a constant gain in rate of progress, as 
well as in actual accumulation of wealth, in all industrial prod 
ucts, in intellectual capital, and in general improvement. 

(5). A point has been reached at which the already enormous, 
and now rapidly growing, physical power of the world is being 
mainly directed, in civilized countries, and especially in the United 
States of North America, to the supply of comforts and luxuries 
to a people already, on the average, well cared for and insured 
against suffering and hardship. 

(6). Very soon, and probably within another generation, the 
average citizen will possess comforts and luxuries, and enjoy the 
advantages of leisure for thought and study and intellectual 
growth, which are, to day, the sole possession of those who are 
distinctively denominated rich. The nation may be expected to 
become a country of large and well-distributed wealth, and of, 
on the whole, well-to-do and contented people. 

(7). The direct means and methods of progress are through 
the continual improvement of the arts and sciences, and the 
steady reduction of the proportion of working power applied 
to the manufacture of the more perishable forms of wealth, and 
through the steady gain in the productiveness of that power as a 
result of improvements in modern machinery and of the intro 
duction of new inventions. 

(*>). Culture, and all that makes life worth living, will come 
to the nation, in constantly and rapidly increasing proportion, as 


the progress indicated by our diagrams, and by the smooth sweep 
of our curves, continues. 

(9). Our own nation, through its free institutions, its wise en 
couragement of the arts and sciences and of invention, already 
leads, and will lead in still greater and greater degree as time goes 
on, through the immediate future, and until economic laws 
or the follies of social leaders break the curve which exhibits 
"The Trend of Modern Progress." Science thus reads us an 

The scientific principle which this article further illustrates 
is that of a truly logical and scientific form of prophecy. Science, 
and science only, often can, and frequently does, by a perfectly 
accurate and correct method, give us clairvoyant views of the im 
mediate, if not often of the remote, future. Of the Trend of 
Modern Progress, in direction and rate of movement, there is no 
reasonable doubt. 




THE year 1895 will be agriculturally remarkable in more than 
one way; but the leading characteristic now indicated for it is a 
restricted area and wide-spread failure of cotton and winter wheat, 
joined with a largely increased extent and exceptionally fair 
promise of Indian corn and potatoes. 

It is only a coincidence that this temporary replacement of 
our leading export staples by these native American products 
should have come when the season was exceptionally favorable for 
the change, but the coincidence was singularly fortunate. Several 
causes had for years been working together to bring down the 
prices of commodities, and their effect had culminated in 1894; 
wheat in leading markets had reached a figure never before known, 
and cotton, a figure equalled only in one or two years, about 1845; 
the corn price, owing to the shortness of last year's crop, had risen to 
nearly the wheat level; so that it was altogether natural that the at 
tention of farmers should be turned this year from wheat and cot 
ton to corn. This was shown by a decline in cotton acreage, from 
which only Texas and Oklahoma were excepted, along with a 
general contraction of the winter and spring wheat area, reported 
early in the year to the Department of Agriculture, and followed 
by high percentages, distributed almost uniformly over the 
country, of acreage in corn and potatoes. The incalculable and 
inscrutable visitations of Jack Frost and Jupiter Pluvius, also, 
were very partial in their treatment of the different crops. A 
brief history of the progress of the season with a few of our lead 
ing farm products will have some degree of general interest. 

Winter Wheat. Acreage sown, as compared with 1893-4, esti 
mated at 103 per cent. ; acreage finally harvested, at 96 per cent. 


There was no material falling off in the Pacific Slope region, but 
the great growing States of the interior Michigan, Ohio, Indi 
ana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas suffered a great reduction in 
area. Dry weather at seed-time delayed sowing, prevented ger 
mination and stunted the plant's growth; severe cold in the win 
ter, followed by abrupt visitations of thaw and frost in the spring, 
and concluded by a general drought and prevalence of insect pests 
throughout the principal producing States, did the rest. Many 
acres beyond the Mississippi were plowed up for corn. The fig 
ure for "condition," by which is meant the proportion, expressed 
as a percentage of the expected crop to a "full" crop not 
the crop of the preceding year or of any particular year, or even 
the average of a series of years, but an ideal crop, the crop ac 
cepted as satisfactory to the producer this * * condition " sank 
for the United States as a whole, from 83 the first of May to 71 
the first of June and 66 the first of July. It thus appeared that 
our farmers generally, just before setting about the harvest of 
this grain, expected less than two-thirds of a crop. Yet the yield 
was good in the northern States of the Pacific Slope, and better 
than usual in New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland. If the coun 
try had to depend for the great bulk of its wheat on these States, 
the year would be counted among the fat and not the lean ones. 
The condition at harvest time, both for winter and spring grain, 
will be reported in September. 

Spring Wheat. The area sown in this grain is reported as 
within 1 per cent, of 1894, and the condition as very good 98 
at the beginning of June, 102 in July, and, notwithstanding great 
reported, and some actual, falling off, still as high as 96 in Aug 
ust. In the chief spring wheat States, Minnesota and the Da- 
kotas, the season proved much more favorable to this grain than 
in the great food reservoirs to the south of them. 

Hay. The causes which reduced the area and condition of 
winter wheat were equally detrimental to clover and timothy. 
The June report showed that the clover acreage was one-thirteenth 
less, on the average, than that of the previous year, while the 
condition was 83 per cent. only. Here, as in the case of wheat, 
the Atlantic and Pacific slopes showed fairly well, while the great 
interior region was scourged by dry weather, a severe winter, late 
frosts, and insects. By July the North Atlantic region had suf 
fered further damage, and the Central States no improvement ; 


the only parts of the country that came up to a fair average were 
the Pacific slope and the South Atlantic and Gulf strip, where 
little hay is usually raised. Condition had fallen to 74 for clover 
and 71 for timothy ; by the first of August these figures were 67 
and 70, with clover estimated at 87 per cent, of standard quality, 
and an aggregate hay acreage but 9l per cent, of 1894. 

Oats. Acreage increased by 3 percent., as reported June lj 
average condition at that date, 84 ; by July, 83, and by August 
84 again. Some damage by dry weather and insects in the Cen 
tral States, but a good crop in the North Atlantic and the North 

Cotton. Area everywhere reduced this year, in consequence 
of the low price. Only Florida, Oklahoma and the Indian Ter 
ritory returned as much as 90 per cent, of last year's acreage; 
Arkansas, Tennessee and North Carolina showed barely 80 per 
cent., while the Cotton States proper were intermediate; general 
average 85. Nor was this reduced extent at all compensated by 
improved condition, the figure expressing this being 81 in June, 
82 in July and 78 in August. Taking area and condition to 
gether, and comparing with last year's August condition of 92, 
we may infer a total product amounting to but 72-j- per cent, of 
last year's. But this great reduction would still give us some 
6,900,000 bales, a larger crop than the country produced in 1892, 
or in any other year before 1887, with a single exception. The 
reasons assigned for this year's poor condition are the backward 
season, by which planting was notably postponed in every State 
but Florida, and the encouragement given by copious rains to the 
growth of grass and weeds. 

Potatoes. Area 8 per cent, greater than in 1894 ; increase 
generally distributed, including the nine States of largest prod 
uct, and only seven States showing a decrease. Condition fair ; 
91 in July and 88 in August. Last year 92 and 74 at same dates, 
and total crop 170 million bushels. The prospect of a two hun 
dred million bushel crop this year is by no means slender, and an 
excess over the 1889 figure our highest hitherto of 218,000,000 
bushels, is altogether possible. 

Corn. The corn acreage shows an all but universal increase, 
but two States reporting a falling off from last year. General 
average advance 8 per cent. Condition exceptionally high ; 99 
in July and 102 in August. The corn record is now held by the 


1889 crop Of 2,122,000,000 bushels, although that of 1891, 
amounting to 2,060,000,000 bushels, had a total value 40 per 
cent, higher, because that year's failure of cereals in Europe 
sharpened the demand for breadstuffs. There will be grave dis 
appointment if the 1895 corn crop fails to surpass all previous 
experience, and a product of 2,460,000,000 bushels may be quite 
reasonably expected. Last year's crop, cut down by drought to 
the piteous tale of 1,212,770,000, will in this case be more than 
doubled. Timely rains have advanced the corn crop in almost 
every section, particularly in the Cotton States ; the same agency 
that proved adverse to their leading staple has favored the one 
they substituted for it. 

The numbers called for brevity " condition " express in brief 
cojnpass all that can be predicted for the growing crop. As re 
ported by the correspondents of the Agricultural Department 
they express so many judgments of what the product is to be, in 
their several counties, by comparison with what their experience 
and study of the agriculture of those counties lead them to expect 
in fairly favorable seasons. A great deal has been thought and 
said about this subject of the standard for comparison in agricul 
tural estimates. The most convenient mode of reference for the 
statistician would probably be the average crop, taking the mean 
yield of a series of seasons, bad and good as they come; this would 
give us about as many conditions in excess of 100 as short of that 
figure. Accordingly, in the statistical service of some countries, 
and some of our States, the reporter is asked to compare his ex 
pected yield with an " average yield/' In a great number of 
cases, there can be no question, this comparison is quite accurately 
and scrupulously made. A record of several years being kept, the 
mean of all, successes, half-successes and failures, is adopted as 
100, and each estimate of a prospective crop-yield is noted ac 
cording to its proportion to this average. But in a greater num 
ber of cases, those who are expected to follow this plan really 
follow another plan. Having no exact record of a series of years 
to guide them in striking their average, their standard is derived 
from their impressions as to what ought to be, more than their 
knowledge of what has been ; it is set by their successes and takes 
no account of their failures, which it regards as accidental and 
not normal; so that when they tell you of a " full crop," or an 
80 per cent, crop, or a two-thirds crop, they mean that proper- 


tion of a good and not merely a mean crop. The mixture of esti 
mates on this basis with those relating to a regularly determined 
mean, which must always occur when ( ' average crops " are named, 
is sufficiently suggestive of confusion to raise very natural doubts 
of the value of statistical returns in which they occur ; and the 
total effect of such mixture is to give a value to the condition 100 
quite different from that contemplated. 

This is conclusively proved by examination of the figures 
themselves. If 100 denotes an average, as pointed out above, 
there will be about as many returns above 100 as below, in a suc 
cession of years. Since, in practice, estimates in this form are 
sure to show a preponderance of returns below 100, it is evident 
that 100 really indicates something higher than an average. The 
records of the United States Department of Agriculture come to 
the aid of foreign records on this point. Clear as was the 
understanding of the first statistician, Mr. J. R. Dodge, on this 
point, and careful as he generally was to insist that his standard 
was a full yield and not an average yield, the questions as to his 
peaches and to one or two other fruits, in a few of his circulars, 
were made for an extended succession of years to relate to condi 
tion "compared with an average crop." As a result, the returns 
are almost solidly below 100, showing that the correspondents 
interpreted their par of reference as something higher than a 
mere mean, even when explicitly instructed otherwise. That 
this habit of fixing a standard higher than the level as often as 
not attained may be taken as a fixed fact in human nature, is 
acknowledged in an interesting manner by British testimony. 
While the agricultural papers of that country have long made a 
practice of asking for comparisons with an average crop, the 
Times, in its valuable series of crop reports, has adopted 
the standard of "perfect healthfulness, exemption from injury 
(due to insect or fungus pests, drought or wet, cold or frost), 
with average growth and development"; which amounts virtually 
to the same that has been recognized for many years in agricul 
tural reports on this side of the Atlantic. 

Since the choice of a standard condition is determined by the 
character of the reporters and their habitual manner of thinking, 
it is not remarkable that some difficulty should be found in con 
verting it to an exact quantity in bushels per acre. As already 
admitted, the mean of a series of years, if it were possible for 


a great army of untrained reporters practically to apply it, would 
be more definite and better suited to the purpose of immediate 
statement in figures. But it is quite possible to make the " full 
crop " or te normal yield " as exact a measure of quantity as a 
regularly determined average, by the process of comparing the 
condition estimate made when the crop is secured with the yield 
as finally ascertained. For example, if wheat is judged to be 80 
per cent, of a full crop when harvested, and the product was 
afterward found to average 12 bushels per acre over the same 
territory, it follows that the normal yield answering to the con 
dition 100 must be accepted as 15 bushels per acre. 

Mr. Dodge made, in 1892, a calculation of the kind just indi 
cated, from which he found the normal yield of corn, the country 
over, to have been for a dozen years almost constant at 28.6 
bushels per acre. The highest figure was 30.4 and the lowest 
27.5, the years 1882-83 being above the average and 1884-87 
below, this slight loss being recovered after 1888. Mr. H. A. 
Eobinson, the present statistician of the Agricultural Department, 
decided a few months ago to make a special inquiry into this 
question. Every correspondent of the department was accord 
ingly invited to set down in figures the normal yield of wheat, 
corn, etc., in his county, so that this numerical basis of reckoning 
might be more directly calculated. Full returns from all parts of 
the country, received in July and August, gave 29.4 bushels, 
showing a substantial concordance with Mr. Dodge's estimate, 
and a general fixity in our standard of corn cultivation. It 
should be borne in mind, however, that the corn yield of the 
year 1889 was shown by the eleventh census to be decidedly 
higher than the value used in Mr. Dodge's calculation (a prac 
tically identical total crop having been produced on an area 8 per 
cent, less than the Agricultural Department's estimate), and that 
the yields for the years preceding 1889 were doubtless affected 
similarly, in gradually increasing measure. Allowing for this, 
and amending the calculation accordingly, the mean normal yield 
for the fourteen years ending 1894 becomes 29.9 bushels. But in 
view of the uncertainty of the correction applied, it will be safest 
to use the number 29.4, directly determined, as expressing what 
is meant by a corn condition of 100. 

A similar computation for wheat shows no such uniformity, but 
a marked increase, Mr. Dodge's reduction giving 13.7 bushels for 


the years 1881-84, 14.5 for 1885-90, and after those years more than 
15. But the census reduced, as in the case of corn, the area es 
timate of 1889; for the wheat acreage of the Agricultural Depart 
ment that year, though determined with the usual care and 
judgment, was no less than 13 per cent, in excess of that 
returned by the census. Allowing for this difference, an addition 
of 1.08 bushels per acre must be made to the actual yield, and 
1.23 bushels to the normal yield; so that if we suppose, as 
appears most reasonable, that this correction was a gradual 
accumulation, one-tenth of it being applied to the yield from 
the Department's figures for 1880, two-tenths for 1881 and so 
on, we find an average of 14.1 bushels per acre for 1881-84, 
15.4 for 1885-90 aud 15.7 for 1891-94. Mr. Kobinson's in 
quiry of county correspondents, as to the local normal yield in 
each county, "brought results in fairly close agreement with the 
last of these figures, the average of winter and spring wheat for 
the whole country coming out 15.6 in July and a little over 15.7 
in August. We may follow Mr. Dodge in ascribing the increased 
wheat yield (equally undeniable whether we are or are not governed 
by the census returns of acreage) to two causes: movement of cul 
tivation to better lands, particularly in California, and improve 
ment in agriculture generally. Until a further increase is noted 
the general normal yield or the par of condition for wheat may be 
accepted as 15.7 bushels per acre; the condition 66 for winter 
wheat therefore, indicates 10 bushels per acre, or 234,000,000 
bushels in the aggregate, while the spring wheat condition 96 indi 
cates a very little over 15 per acre or a total product of 169,000,- 
000 bushels. These figures are preliminary only; correspondents 
will furnish more precise returns after the crop is everywhere 
housed, and be yet more precise about the end of the year, after 
threshing has fairly indicated the quantity and quality of the grain. 
The weak point in all the crop statistics of the Agricultural 
Department is the evaluation of the area sown, or what is known 
as the acreage of the crop. The yield per acre can be fairly esti 
mated by well-informed and experienced reporters, and the esti 
mate of "condition" is one whose definiteness in practice is even 
surprising to those who only know how difficult the expression is 
to define in straight plain English ; but for the number of acres, 
a factor whose ascertainment is vital to a knowledge of the total 
crop, there is no standard and no mark to guide the explorer back 


to the truth whence he has been led away. The best standard 
that can be used in practice is the acreage of the census year ; but 
since it is impossible for the estimator to bear that in mind all 
through the decade, he necessarily has to compare each year with 
the year before, so that every return of area has in it all the 
uncertainty of the census determination, added to that of one or 
more perhaps ten independent comparisons, all highly fallible, 
of this year with the one just preceding. That such a chain of com 
parisons is capable of leading far astray, is a necessity, and it 
has been illustrated in more than one place above. But when we 
have shown a divergence between Department estimates and cen 
sus returns we have shown by no means the worst feature 
of the case. In a candid statement of fact, it is necessary to con 
fess that the census acreage figures, in both corn and wheat, have 
been distrusted. Justly or unjustly, there is a widely prevalent 
suspicion that the areas in the eleventh census were too low. This 
suspicion is based to some extent on theories as to wheat con 
sumption per head of population, and it is the office of crop re 
turns to test such theories rather than be tested by them ; but 
a way ought to be found to set these returns above suspicion. 

The true way to attain this desirable end is to secure frequent 
and accurate determinations of the area under all the principal 
crops, which can only be done by an annual, or at least biennial or 
triennial, farm-to-farm census. To inquiries as to area others could 
easily be added without considerable additional labor or expense, 
but the question of acreage should always be kept foremost, and its 
precise report be regarded as the main object of the undertaking. 
It is almost needless to repeat the arguments for frequent agri 
cultural censuses, since they must be clear, cogent and irrefutable 
in the most hasty consideration of the subject. If such a census 
were taken every other year, say, not only would all agricultural 
statisticians and students be furnished with firm ground to stand 
on, but each and every census would, by the development of greater 
skill and capacity among those in charge, be better than any of 
our decennial censuses can now be. If there is a shred of truth 
in the maxim that what is worth doing at all is worth doing well, 
the filling of this lamentable gap in the practice of crop report 
ing is a thing worth doing. The end of the century ought not 
to see the gap unfilled. 



IT may be asserted that national pride causes every people on 
the face of the earth to labor under a delusion. The Frenchman 
honestly believes himself to be the only truly civilized inhabitant 
of the globe ; the Englishman thinks he is the only moral one ; 
and I have no doubt that the American flatters himself that he 
is the freest. Possibly the Sandwich Islander uses, in reference 
to himself, some adjective in the superlative, followed by in the 
world, according to American fashion. 

Now, as a true-born Frenchman, I am ready to admit that 
my countrymen express a very fair estimation of themselves ; 
but I hold that the pharisaism of the English is obvious ; and as 
for the Americans being a free nation, why, I maintain that 
never was a greater mistake made in the world. 

I will leave politics alone, although I might tell Jonathan 
that the governments of England and France, especially of Eng 
land, are far less autocratic than his. I will leave aside the 
trusts, the rings, the combinations, the leaders, the bosses, but 
only name them to take the opportunity of reminding Jonathan 
that, if the greatest objection to a monarchy is that a nation may 
thus run the risk of being ruled by a fool or a scoundrel, the 
greatest objection to certain forms of democracy should be that a 
nation may thus run the risk of being governed by 500 of such. 
A great English lord was one day confidentially informed that 
hi steward robbed him. "I know it," he replied; "but my 
steward sees that nobody else robs me." That English lord was 
a wise man. - And, as for costs, I believe that enough money is 
spent and enough business is stopped during a presidential cam 
paign in America to keep all the crowned heads of Europe during 
the four years of the President's time of office. 

But enough, I repeat, about politics. 
VOL. CLXI. NO. 466. 21 


I say that Jonathan is not a freeman because he is not the mas 
ter in his own house. Whether he travels or stays at home, he 
is ruled and bullied and snubbed from morning till he goes to 
sleep. His disposition is that of an angel, and, whenever I am 
asked what struck me most in the course of my visits to the 
United States, I always answer : " I never once saw an American 
lose his temper." 

The American is not a man of leisure. His mind is always on 
the alert. New schemes are forever trotting about his brains. 
He is full of business, and trifles do not concern him. Besides, 
he may happen to dwell at No. 3479 West 178th Street, and he 
must try to remember where he lives. So he pockets snubs and 
kicks, and forgets. To lodge a complaint against a rude con 
ductor or an uncivil porter would mean a letter to write or a visit 
to pay; too much waste of time. " Bother it!" he exclaims, 
"let him be hanged by somebody else \" He is also a prince of 
good fellows, and a complaint may mean the discharge of a man 
with a wife and children. ' 

But this is not the principal reason. The Americans, like 
the French, have no initiative and lack public spirit. The Eng 
lish are the only people who are served by their servants, let the 
servants be the ministers of the crown, the directors of public 
companies, or mere railway porters. To every one to whom John 
Bull pays a salary he says: "Please to remember that you are 
the servant of the public." When the English appoint a new 
official, high or low, it is a new servant that they add to their 
household. When the French and the Americans appoint a new 
official, it is a new master that they give to themselves to snub 
them and to bully them. For example, when the English rail 
way companies started running sleeping cars, the public said to 
them : " We do not wish to be herded up together like hop- 
pickers, you will please have the cars divided at night into two 
parts by a curtain, so that our ladies may be spared the annoy 
ance of having to share a section with a man." I do not know a 
single American lady who has not told me of that grievance, and 
how on that account she dreaded travelling alone. Yet I am not 
aware that the American public has ever told the officials of any 
railway company in this country : (f We pay you, and you shall, 
please, give such accommodation as will secure the comfort of 
our women." On one occasion, in a crowded sleeping car from 


Syracuse to New York, I occupied an upper berth, and a lady oc 
cupied the lower one. If she only felt half as uncomfortable as 
I did, I pity the poor woman. 

Coming from Washington to New York, a short time ago, every 
seat in the drawing-room car was occupied. The temperature of 
that car was about 80. The perspiration was trickling down the 
cheeks of the passengers, the women were fanning themselves with 
newspapers, all were stifled, puffing and blowing, hardly able to 
breathe ; but not one dared go and open the ventilators, not one 
said to the conductor : " Now, this is perfectly unendurable, 
please to open the ventilators at once." I took upon myself to go 
and address him ; "Don't you think," I timidly ventured, "that 
this car is much too hot ?" "I do not," he said, and he walked 
away. As I meant to arrive in New York alive, I opened, not the 
ventilator, but my window. That was a reckless, fool-hardy reso 
lution. The passengers threw at me a glance of gratitude, but 
there was in that glance an expression of wonder at my wild 
temerity, and they looked sideways, forward and backwards, to 
see if the potentate of the train had seen me. I was fairly roused, 
I was sick, my head was burning, almost split, and I was ready 
for that conductor if he had come to close my window and that 
at the risk of passing for some uncontrollable rebel. The rail 
ways of this country are ruled by the nigger and for the nigger. 

Then there is the man who, every five minutes, bangs the 
door of the car with all his might to let you know he has arrived. 
He will wake you up from a refreshing nap by a tap on your 
shoulder to inform you that he has laid a magazine on your lap. 
Then he will return with chewing-gum, then with papers, then 
with bananas, apples and oranges, then with skull caps, then with 
books, then with ten-cent pieces of jewelry, from his inexhaustible 
stores. An Englishman, on whom this kind of unceasing bore 
dom from the time the train starts till the time when it reaches 
its destination would be tried, would pitch the boy out of the win 

Then there is the refreshment room. You ask for refresh 
ment and you name what you would like to have, and you re 
ceive the refreshing answer, invariably accompanied by a frown : 
" What's that ? " You apologize for the poor English you have 
at your disposal, especially if you have acquired it in England, 
and you prepare to enjoy a piece of custard pie or apple pie, or 


may be, doughnuts. On leaving the place you pay, and the man 
at the desk would feel dishonored if he said " Thanks" to you ; 
but I will say this for him that he so little expects thanks for 
what he brings to you or does for you that if you say, '* Thank you," 
he will cry, " You're welcome," in the tone of, " What's the matter 
with you ? " Life is short, time is money, and all these little 
amenities of European life are dispensed with. 

You leave the train and arrive in the hotel. From the tender 
mercies of the railway conductor you are handed over to the 
hotel clerk, and, in small towns, to the lady waitress. Not a 
smile on that clerk's face. He is placid, solemn and mono 
syllabic. Your name entered on the registry, your sentence is 
pronounced. You are no longer Mr. So-and-So, you are No. 
219. The colored gentleman is close by to carry out the sen 
tence. He bids you follow him. Yours is not to ask ques 
tions ; yours is to follow and obey. The rules of the peniten 
tiary are printed in your bedroom. You shall be hungry from 8 
to 10 A. M., from 1 to 3 P. M., and from 6 to 8 p. M. The 
slightest infringement of the rules would be followed by the dec 
laration that you are a crank. At the entrance of the dining- 
room, the head waiter, or the lady head waitress, holds up the 
hand and bids you follow him or her. Perhaps you recognize a 
friendly face at one of the tables. Yours is not to indulge in 
feelings of that sort ; yours is again to follow, obey, and take the 
seat that is assigned to you. During the whole time that 
altogether I have spent in America I never once saw an American 
man or woman who dared sit on any other chair than the one that 
he or she was ordered to occupy. Nay, I have seen the guests 
timidly wait at the door, when nobody was there to take them 
in charge, until some one came to order them about. In small 
hotels you cannot hope to have the courses brought one after the 
other so that each one may be served hot to you. Your plate is 
placed in front of you, and the lady waitress disposes symmet 
rically ten to fifteen little oval dishes around it. When I first 
made the acquaintance of this lady, and she had dealt the dishes, 
I exclaimed, looking at her : " Hallo ! what's trump ? " But 
there was no trifling with that lady ; she threw at me a glance 
that made me feel the abomination of my conduct. 

Complaints are so rare that I once witnessed, in a hotel, a 
perfect commotion started by an Englishman who had dared 


express bis dissatisfaction at the way he was treated. He was in 
the hall. "This is the worst managed hotel I have ever been 
in," he exclaimed to the clerk. " "Where is the proprietor ? I 
should like to speak to him." The proprietor was in the hall, 
thoroughly enjoying the scene. He was pointed out to the guest 
by the clerk. The Englishman, excited and angry, went up to 
the proprietor. 

"Is it you who are running this house ?" he said. 

"Well," said the proprietor, with his cigar in his mouth and 
his hands in his pockets, "I thought I was till you came." 

The Englishman looked at him, turned back, paid his bill, 
and departed. 

I am bound to admit that the incivility you meet with in 
many hotels, offices, shops, etc., is only apparent. They are busy, 
mad busy, those clerks and shopmen, and do not see why they 
should indulge in the thousands of petty acts of courtesy that 
customers expect in Europe, where, for example, shopkeepers 
have time to write long notices to "respectfully beg the public 
not to touch the articles exposed for sale." In America, 
''Hands off" answers the purpose, and the visitors do not feel 

But among the lower class servants of the public, I am per 
suaded that incivility is simply a form of misunderstood democ 
racy. " I am as good as you " is their motto, and by being 
polite they would fear to appear servile. They are not as good as 
you, however, because you are polite to them, and they are not 
polite to you but they do not see that. It is not equality, it is 
tyranny, the worst of tyranny, tyranny from below. 

The patience of the American public is simply angelical, noth 
ing short of that. I have seen American audiences kept waiting 
by theatrical companies more than half an hour. Something was 
wrong behind the scenes. They manifested no sign of impa 
tience. When the curtain rose, nobody came forward to apolo 
gize to them for this obvious want of respect. Once in a New 
England town, through a train's being late, I arrived at the Opera 
House three-quarters of an hour after the time my lecture was 
advertised to begin. " I suppose I had better apologize to the 
audience," I said to the local manager, " and explain to them 
why I am late." "Just as you please," he replied, "but I 
would not. I guess they would have waited another half an hour 


without showing any sign of impatience. " The American public 
expect no courtesy from the people they pay, and they get none. 

The people of culture and refinement in America are paying 
dearly for keeping aloof from politics, and refusing to have any 
thing to do with the government of their country. They are 
beginning to realize that fact. In everyday life their apathy, 
their lack of initiative alone can explain their endurance of the 
petty tyrannies I have only just indicated in these remarks. 

If every official were educated up to the fact that he is paid by 
the state, that is to say, by the people, and that his duty is to ad 
minister, to the best of his abilities, to the welfare of the people ; 
if every conductor of every railway company were made to under 
stand that his first function is to attend to the comfort and wishes 
of passengers ; if waiters, waitresses, porters, servants of all sorts, 
were told that a polite public has a right to expect from them 
politeness, courtesy and good service, life in America would be a 
great deal happier. 

Americans may say that all this is beneath their notice, but 
they suffer from it. I do not think that I am one of those 
Europeans who believe that nothing is done well unless it is 
done in European fashion. I cannot help thinking that a good 
deal of happiness is attained in life by amiable intercourse with 
the people of all the different stations with whom we have to 
come in contact. 




THE African problem in Africa, which has puzzled a hundred 
generations of Europeans, is now engaging the earnest attention 
and taxing the energies of all the powers of Europe. The de 
cision of the Berlin Conference, ten years ago, has placed Europe 
in relations to Africa such as never before existed between these 
continents. Every power of Europe, including Russia, has es 
tablished or is seeking to establish interests in Africa. 

The African problem in America, which has existed since the 
day the first negro landed in Virginia three hundred years ago, 
instead of losing its interest as the years go by, is deepening in 
importance and demanding more and more the serious considera 
tion of the people of the United States. 

Gratefully availing myself of the opportunity which the 
courtesy of the Editor of this EEVIEW has placed at my disposal, 
I venture to present to the American public the view of these 
problems at which the study and travel of years both here and in 
Africa have enabled me to arrive. 

Fifty years ago there was no part of the world of which less 
was known than the interior of Africa, and in which less interest 
was taken. When the Landers had achieved their great exploit 
of proving by actual observation that the Niger had an outlet to 
the sea and that its banks on both sides were occupied by vast 
and active populations, their discoveries were not received with 
half the interest which is now aroused by excavations in the 
valley of the Euphrates or on the banks of the Nile. The Edin 
burgh Review of that day (July, 1832), rebuked the " very rigid 
parsimony " of a government which rewarded the labors of the 
enterprising travellers by a gratuity of one hundred pounds ; but 


those labors were the prelude of all the modern activity in Afri 
can exploration and exploitation. The English, as the first of 
commercial nations, could not rest without ascertaining the 
natural capacities of a country known to be populous, and with 
out endeavoring to open new and easier routes of communication 
with it. For the series of explorations which has, within the 
last thirty or forty years, filled up the larger part of what used to 
be blank spaces in our maps of Africa, we are indebted almost 
altogether to the intelligence and enterprise of British travellers 
from Livingstone in 1849, to Captain Lugard in 1895. But the 
conferences of the great powers at Berlin in 1884-5, and at Brus 
sels in 1890, assumed for Europe the continent of Africa as its 
special field of operation. The "scramble" is over, and now 
the question is how to utilize the plunder in the interests of 
civilization and progress. 

France has taken the lead by military operations. England 
has begun her work through chartered companies destined to end 
in protectorates. G-ermany has blended the military with the 
commercial regime. ut each is proceeding cautiously and learn 
ing the best methods by daily experience. They are gradually 
repairing the waste places and teaching the natives to make the 
best possible use of their own country, by fitting it up for their own 
prosperity and preparing it for the exiles in distant lands who 
may desire to return to the ancestral home. 

The task which Europe has imposed upon itself is a vast one 
surpassing the labors of Hercules. But intelligence, energy 
and science will cleanse the Augean stables the swamps and 
morasses which disfigure and poison the coast regions. They 
will destroy the Lernean hydra of African fever. They will 
bring the golden apples from the hidden gardens of the wealthy 

France, in the conquest of Dahomey, has performed a task 
which civilization has long needed. She has freed a great 
country from the cruel savagery of ages and thrown it open to the 
regenerating influence of enlightened nations. The king, who 
was bound hand and foot by the sanguinary superstitions of his 
fathers, was relieved by the military energy of the French from 
his blood-thirsty responsibility, and is now ending his days in 
bloodless luxury and quiet in the French colony of Martinique, 
supported like a king at the expense of his captors and de- 


porters. Abomey, his capital, closed for hundreds of years 
against civilizing agencies, is now the centre of stable rule, of 
educational and industrial impulse. Mohammedan missionaries, 
formerly refused admission for religious work, are now directing 
the attention of besotted pagans to the " Lord of the universe/' 

The French are assiduous in the administration of the affairs 
of the countries which, by the decision of the Berlin conference, 
have fallen within their "sphere of influence." When, by con 
quest or treaty, they have acquired any territory, they spare no 
pains in its exploitation and development. The sons of powerful 
chiefs whom they have conquered in what is now called French 
Soudan are sent to France or North Africa for education to fit 
them on their return to take charge of their respective countries 
and govern them under French supervision in the interest of 
order and progress. Several Mohammedan youth, the sons of 
chiefs, were sent last year from Senegal to the Moslem College at 
Kairawan for education. Natives of intelligence and capacity 
are promoted to high official positions, and have the Legion of 
Honor conferred upon them. 

England is entering upon her part of the work, not as a 
stranger. For more than a hundred years she has been engaged 
in direct recuperative work, having provided Sierra Leone, after 
abolishing the slave trade, as an asylum for recaptured slaves. In 
this colony, as well as in those of Gambia, the Gold Coast and 
Lagos, she has expended vast amounts of money and sacrificed 
numberless English lives. She has very recently increased her 
political responsibilities in Western Soudan by taking within her 
jurisdiction the powerful kingdom of Ashantee, with which she 
has waged such frequent and expensive wars with results by no 
means discreditable to her native antagonists. Under the name 
of the Niger Coast Protectorate, England has also taken the 
whole of the Niger delta through which flow the great Oil 
Kivers or estuaries of Benin, Brass, Bonny, Opobo, New Calabar 
and Old Calabar. There is one feature in which the Niger may 
defy competition from any other river, either of the old or new 
world. This is the grandeur of its delta, which is probably 
the most insalubrious region in all of West Africa. Along the 
whole coast, from Benin to Old Calabar, a distance of about 300 
miles, the Niger makes its way to the Atlantic through the 
various estuaries just enumerated. Had this delta, like that of 


the Nile, been subject only to periodical inundations, leaving be 
hind a layer of fertilizing slime, it would have formed the most 
fruitful region on earth, and might have been almost the granary 
of a continent. But the Niger rolls down its waters in such ex 
cessive abundance as to convert the whole into a dreary swamp. 
This is covered with dense forests of mangrove and other trees of 
spreading and luxuriant foliage. The equatorial sun, with its 
fiercest rays, cannot penetrate these dark recesses; it only draws 
forth from them pestilential vapors, which render this coast more 
fatal than any other. There is not, however, the slightest doubt, 
now that British enterprise under government protection has access 
to that region, that in the course of time those forests will be 
leveled, those swamps drained, and the soil covered with luxu 
riant harvests. 

Sir Claude Macdonald, to whom was entrusted four or five 
years ago the duty of establishing the Niger Coast Protectorate, of 
organizing regular government and enforcing order in that region, 
has performed his difficult task with admirable ability. He has 
in that short time created a revenue which more than suffices for 
the work of administration. He has abolished barbarous customs 
and suppressed marauding practices. The natives, he has discov 
ered, have a perfect knowledge and appreciation of the immense 
industrial resources of their country, and a readiness to take ad 
vantage of them, together with an aptitude for imitation and a 
desire for instruction, which are most hopeful indications of pro 
gress. They are encouraged to spontaneous activity, and to a love 
of achievement from which important results must before long ac 
crue. The progress has been rapid as well as steady ; and may 
be measured from month to month, almost from day to day. 

The Royal Niger Company, which has brought within British 
influence vast and important territories, will now, probably, like 
the British East Africa Company, pass into the hands of the 
British Government. As this company has been governed by 
strictly commercial principles, it is feared, from recent occurrences, 
that the welfare of the native population may be sacrificed to the 
interest of the shareholders. Perhaps it may be best for all con 
cerned that the regions in question should come under the strict 
control of a Protectorate, if not formed into a Crown colony. 

Germany, considering her inexperience in colonial matters, is 
developing astounding ability and resources as a colonizing power. 


Her recent decided step, in behalf of native protection, in the 
punishment of Herr Leist for his abuse of official power in mal 
treating the natives at Cameroon, has satisfied the people as to her 
intentions and aims. 

Every one has confidence in the philanthropic aims and 
political and commercial efforts of the King of the Belgians in 
the arduous and expensive enterprise he has undertaken on the 
Congo. But none of these powers has any idea of making Africa 
a home for its citizens. They know that European colonists 
cannot live in that country. Nature has marked off tropical 
Africa as the abiding home of the black races. I have met no 
European agent, either political, commercial or industrial, who 
thinks that there is any chance for Europeans to occupy inter- 
tropical Africa. All that Europe can do is to keep the peace among 
the tribes, giving them the order and security necessary to 
progress ; while the emissaries of religion, industry and trade 
teach lessons of spiritual and secular life. The bulk of the con 
tinent is still untouched by Western civilization, notwithstanding 
the fact that Africa has been partitioned among the European 
powers on paper. 

It is an interesting fact that Liverpool, which, in the days of 
the slave trade, took so prominent a part in the nefarious traffic, 
is doing more than any other city to push the enterprises of re 
construction into the continent. Her steamship companies and 
her Chamber of Commerce are the most potent of the European 
agencies in the work of African regeneration. And both are 
doing all in their power to bring the natives forward and assist 
them to develop and take care of their own country. It is com 
monly supposed that the liquor traffic is decimating the African 
tribes. There is no doubt that much mischief is done among some 
of the coast tribes who are in immediate contact with foreign trade. 
But, notwithstanding the large quantities of vile spirits introduced, 
very little finds its way to the interior. In my journeys to the 
hinterland of Liberia and Sierra Leone, I have been astonished 
to find that all evidences of the malignant traffic disappear after 
one gets about a hundred miles from the coast. Beyond that dis 
tance the people, as a rule, are ignorant of the nature or use of 
ardent spirits. It would be impossible to explain to those of 
them who have not visited the seaboard the character and pur 
poses of a public house or a rum shop. On returning to the coast 


the unfailing signs of approach to a European settlement or 
to so-called civilization are empty gin bottles and demijohns. 
There are three reasons for this exemption of the interior tribes 
from the blighting traffic. 

In the first place, the population of the coast towns and of 
regions adjacent to the coast are so large, and the love for drink, 
cultivated for generations, is so strong among them, that all the 
importations are swallowed up in the maritime districts. Yet 
each individual seems to have access to so little of this fire-water 
that it is very rare to see any one " the worse for liquor." Then, 
the inhabitants of the elevated and healthy regions, robust in 
body and mind, are satisfied with the natural beverages of the 
country, and do not crave foreign or abnormal stimulants. 
Lastly, the people who control the volume of trade in the 
Soudan are Mohammedans to whom the use of ardent spirits is 
forbidden by their religion under the severest penalties. But 
for this fact, the scourga of liquor, whose ravages in the mari 
time districts Mungo Park deplored a hundred years ago, and the 
Landers animadverted upon thirty years later, would long since 
have exterminated or debased millions of that vast multitude who, 
under the protection of Islam, are increasing in numbers. 

Enlightened Christian sentiment in Europe and America is 
working towards the entire suppression of the demoralizing 
traffic. The aborigines of Africa, then, taking into considera 
tion all the agencies at work, are not likely to share the deplora 
ble fate of the aborigines of this country, Australia and New 

It used to be fashionable some years ago to make disparaging 
comments upon the home industry of the Africans. Men posing 
as great commercial authorities informed the world that the trade 
of Africa was very small and not likely to increase. They as 
signed as a reason for this opinion that a savage people, living in 
a climate where clothing is unnecessary and where food can be 
obtained with little or no labor, would not exert themselves to 
procure imported articles which they do not absolutely require. 
But such opinions arose from completely erroneous ideas of the 
social condition of the African nations generally, and of the de 
gree of civilization in the interior of that continent. Within the 
last twenty years these views have been completely exploded. 
Steamers and sailing ships from all the ports of Europe now hug 


the coast for more than two thousand miles, and carry away 
every day to Europe in exchange for cash and European goods 
large quantities of native products, such as vegetable oils, palm 
kernels, piassava, camwood, mahogany, cotton, ivory, hides, 
coffee, timber, gums, wax and gold. Horses and cattle, sheep, 
goats, etc., are also brought to the coast for sale. 

The able and experienced officers now administering the gov 
ernment of the British Colonies in West Africa notably Col. 
Frederic Cardew, of Sierra Leone, and Sir Gilbert Carter, of La 
gos are earnestly recommending the construction of railways 
from the coast to the interior, their travels to the hinterland hav 
ing convinced them that vast resources may soon be developed by 
increased facilities of intercourse and transportation. A few 
weeks ago a deputation from the Manchester, Liverpool, and 
London Chambers of Commerce waited upon the Secretary of 
State for the Colonies to urge upon Her Majesty's Government 
the immediate establishment of railways to meet the growing de 
mands of the trade. Of all this valuable and increasing com 
merce the voluntary industry of the natives is the only basis, 

Africa produces in unlimited quantities articles of prime ne 
cessity to civilization, which can not be obtained in anything like 
ttie same quantities from any other country. 

In the interior the natives have reached a degree of civiliza 
tion not suspected by the outside world. Most of the tribes have 
fixed habitations and defences round their towns ; they cultivate 
tkeir lands ; they wear cotton dresses of their own manufacture, 
dyed with native dyes ; and they work in iron and gold. The 
native loom is very primitive, but the native cotton is excellent. 
The native cotton dresses are much thicker and better than any 
produced in Manchester, whose manufacturers try hard to imi 
tate them. The African dyes are far brighter and more enduring 
than the foreign. The African indigo is said to resist the action 
of light and acids better than any other. Still, the interior 
Africans, who are a great trading people, patronize foreign goods 
and are multiplying their purchasing power. The beneficial 
effects of trade are now perceived for hundreds of miles around 
the settlements, large tracts of land having been brought under 

The introduction of foreign cloth into the interior instead of 
diminishing the manufacture of the native article has increased 


it, and it more than holds its own side by side with the foreign 
product, the natives decidedly preferring the African original to 
the European imitation, and paying much higher prices for it. 
They sometimes buy English " bafts" the trade term for the 
pieces of cotton of which their dresses are made which are a 
clever imitation of their own make, but only because they are 
very much cheaper. As long as the Africans retain their superi 
ority in manufacturing cotton goods, foreign competition will 
not interfere with the work produced by their primitive appliances. 

They also manufacture their own agricultural implements from 
iron taken from the soil. They make beautiful gold trinkets and 
their workmanship in that metal is not only curious,but often really 
beautiful. The gold mines of Boure, in the interior of Sierra 
Leone, and others in the interior of Liberia, yield abundantly 
with the application of very little labor or capital. 

There is nothing in Africa resembling the poverty which one 
sees in Europe. The natives in some regions plant a portion of 
their land especially for the stranger and wayfarer, so that they 
can indulge in a hospitality unknown in civilized countries a 
genuine and unpremeditated hospitality. Cameron, the English 
traveller, author of " Across Africa," told me that on one occa 
sion when in the heart of the continent, several weeks' journey 
from the coast, his supplies gave out and he had nothing to 
offer the natives in exchange for the necessaries of life ; but he 
experienced no inconvenience, much less suffering. He was the 
object of abundant and assiduous hospitality from people who 
had never seen him before and who would never see him again. 
"In what country of Europe or America/' he asked, "would 
such a thing be possible ? " 

Great as have been the changes which have taken place dur 
ing the last ten years in the condition of Africa so far as its rela 
tion to Europe is concerned, vaster changes still are impending 
in connection with the central portion of the continent a region 
of incalculable extent which seems still fresh, as it were, from 
the hands of God and only waiting for the energies of civilized 
man to bring to perfection the numerous products of its prolific 

The feeling for progress and achievement awakened and im 
pelled by enlightened and vigorous government on the coast 
must lead to important results in the near future, which cannot 


but have a decided and salutary influence, not only upon the peo 
ple at home, but upon the condition of their children in exile in 
foreign lands. But development and progress in Africa will lin 
ger until the United States, both government and people, black 
and white, take a wider and deeper practical interest in the affairs 
of that continent. Europe cannot do what America can for* 

We have thus far been considering what Europe is doing in 
and for Africa. We now come to those efforts in that continent 
which are of more immediate interest to the public of the United 
States. The Republic of Liberia owes its origin to American 
benevolence. It is the only spot in Africa where the civilized 
negro the American negro without alien supervision or guid 
ance is holding aloft the torch of civilization and the symbol of 
Christianity, endeavoring to establish government on principles 
recognized by the civilized world and in international relations 
with the leading nations : a country to which thousands of 
Africa's descendants in the Southern States are looking as the 
only place where they can obtain relief from their disabilities, and 
a field for the unhindered cultivation and untrammeled develop 
ment of their peculiar gifts as a people, 

The discussion of this subject will lead to a brief considera 
tion of the African problem in this country. The statesmen who 
organized the government of the United States were as clear as to 
the nature of the present race problem, which their sagacity 
recognized from afar, as are the statesmen of to-day perhaps 
clearer. Thomas Jefferson foresaw the emancipation of the slave, 
and he foresaw also the difficulties insuperable difficulties that 
must attend the residence in one country of two distinct races to 
whom intermarriage and social equality would be impossible. One 
race ruling and dominant, the other possessing no birthright 
of power, there being between them no such sympathy as would 
make their interests everywhere and always identical. He, there 
fore, conceived the idea of a separation, and some of his contem 
poraries or immediate successors, laid the foundation of a society 
for the deportation of the blacks to the land of their fathers 
not, as some of their opponents at that time suggested, to rivet 
more securely the fetters of the slave, but to provide an asylum 
and a field of operation for the freed man. 

The American Colonization Society was organized in 1817 in 


the city of Washington, where it is still represented by an office, 
an executive committee, a secretary and treasurer. The society 
sent out the first emigrants in 1820, and in 1821 founded the 
colony which they called Liberia land of the free. The capital 
of the colony was called Monrovia after President Monroe, who 
gave practical aid to the enterprise. 

The ship " Elizabeth," the " Mayflower" of Liberian history, 
sailed from New York, having on board eighty-eight emigrants, 
on the 6th of February, 1820. She had favoring breezes and 
made the voyage in about thirty days, arriving at Sierra Leone 
March 9. The immigrants, after trying several localities in 
the neighborhood of Sierra Leone, at length obtained a foothold 
at Cape Mesurado, about 260 miles southeast of Sierra Leone, 
where they established the settlement of Monrovia. 

In 1847 they became an independent republic upon the model 
of the United States. This responsibility was forced upon 
the colony by the anomaly of its position. Founded and 
fostered by a private society, with no official recognition 
from the United States Government, it was exposed to, and was 
frequently the victim of, impositions from unscrupulous slave 
traders and others who would not respect the laws enacted by the 
colony. Under these circumstances it, of course, looked for 
official recognition as a nation to the United States, but, owing 
to the " peculiar institution," such recognition could not be 
granted. It subsequently sought and obtained acknowledgment 
from Great Britain and other European powers, under the name 
and style of the Eepublic of Liberia. 

The natural advantages of the country in the way of soil and 
climate place it in the front rank of West African countries. 
Every visitor sees at a glance the immense possibilities of the 
youthful nation agricultural, mineral, commercial and political. 
What it now needs is capital and intelligent negro immigrants 
from the western hemisphere farmers, mechanics, preachers and 
school teachers. 

An unfortunate law, which the founders of the State consid 
ered necessary to its integrity and protection, excludes the white 
man from citizenship. The state of the world and the relations 
of the races when this exclusive enactment was passed, sixty or 
seventy years ago made, by the way, for the colonists by white 
American citizens no doubt furnished a reason and an excuse 


for it. But in a few more years it may come within the range of 
Liberian practical politics to modify, if not altogether abolish, 
that law as being behind the spirit of the age, and obstructiye. 

Since the founding of Liberia, seventy-four years ago, not 
quite twenty thousand negroes all told have gone to that colony. 
And yet in spite of this limited immigration and in spite of the 
fact that they have had very little foreign aid, they have brought 
into operation upon that coast, which they found in a wild and 
savage state, such agencies, political, commercial and industrial, 
that they were thought worthy, about fifty years ago, to be re 
ceived into the family of nations and have ever since been per 
forming, without discredit, the functions of national life. They 
are in treaty relations with all the great powers of Europe, with 
the United States and other American nationalities. They have 
diplomatic and consular officers in Europe and America. Com 
mercially they attract steamships and sailing ships from the 
principal European ports. 

The culture of coffee is extending in Liberia, and several of 
her citizens, immigrants from the United States, who went out 
with very small capital or none at all, and devoted themselves to 
agriculture, are now in affluent circumstances. 

In presenting these facts it is not my purpose to urge any to 
go to Liberia. I believe that the interest and sympathy which 
have been awakened among the negroes of the South preclude 
any necessity for such a stimulant. If the United States govern 
ment would supply the means thousands would rush to that 
country. No warnings, admonitions or predictions of possible 
disaster would deter them. They would rush forth in unthink 
ing multitudes and precipitate upon themselves and upon the un 
fortunate country which admitted them a state of things the 
horrors of which it would not be possible to exaggerate. No 
greater evil could befall Africa or the nogro race at the present 
time than an exodus of negroes from the United States. 

I do not ignore the sad aspects of the condition of the race 
here. We hear nearly every day of acts being perpetrated upon 
negroes in certain sections of the country which drive some to 
say, " Any where but here/' These acts are deplorable ; perhaps, 
in many instances, indefensible ; but certainly dangerous and 
pernicious to the last degree, not to blacks only but to whites 
also. But emigration will not cure these evils. They are symp- 
VOL. CLXI, NO. 466. 23 


toms of a disease which can be eradicated only by a wider and 
deeper education of blacks and whites alike. 

The present generation of white men and the present genera 
tion of black men must pass away. A new generation of each 
race, strangers to the abnormal facts of slavery and its monstrous 
offshoots, must arise before any extensive colonization of Ameri 
can blacks in Africa can answer its great purpose. The negro 
problem must be solved here or it will reappear in Africa in a new 
form. The negro must learn to respect himself here before he 
will be able to perform the functions of true manhood there. 
Should he leave this country now, harrassed and cowed, broken 
in spirit and depressed, ashamed of his racial peculiarities and 
deprecating everything intended for his racial preservation, he 
would be destitute of the tenacity and force, the self-reliance and 
confidence, the faith in himself and in his destiny, which, as a 
pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, would guide 
him in the policy to be adopted toward the man like himself 
whom he will find on his ancestral continent. 

A handful of people on the margin of the continent is a very 
different thing from a million with imperfect views of themselves 
and their work. But will the negro ever attain to full manhood 
under a dominant race ? No ; not now. On one hand, all those 
who held him as a slave and their children, and on the other, all 
those who felt the iron of slavery penetrate their souls and their 
children, must pass away before things will reach a somewhat 
normal state. 

I consider, therefore, that all agitation for the movement of 
large masses of negroes to Africa is at the present time unwise 
and premature. Not so, however, the effort to awaken a mission 
ary spirit among the blacks, and to diffuse information which will 
stimulate effort on that line, and induce individuals, or small 
colonies, to go out with some definite object in view for the relig 
ious or industrial improvement of the country. Meanwhile, 
everything should be avoided by the masses who remain which 
would aggravate the situation, and everything studied and pur 
sued which makes for peace and harmony. What I would incul 
cate upon the negro in the United States now is a modest temper- 
ateness of behavior an unpretentious and unambitious deport 
ment, which is not only in accordance with the teudencies of his 
own nature left to itself, but is, I consider, the chief and soundest 


blessing to which his destinies in America invite him. Politics 
at present is not his field. He is as yet but a newcomer in the 
arena of even personal freedom not more than a generation 
from chattelism. The fact is, I do not believe that the masses of 
the negroes in the South, when let alone, trouble themselves about 
politics ; they are very little disposed to take part in a strife 
which to them is barren, uninteresting and often perilous ; and 
it is to be regretted if any extraneous influence should be brought 
to bear upon them to turn into partisanship what, under the cir 
cumstances, must be considered a salutary indifference. He can 
bide his time. He will not die out he is not dying out. According 
to the Census Bulletin No. 48, it appears that the colored popu 
lation increased from 1880 to 1890, 856,800 ; or 85,680 a year, 
about 243 a day, or 10 an hour. Such agencies as that at Tuskegee, 
under Mr. Booker T. Washington, which are preparing him for 
his work in this country and in Africa, if he goes there, should 
be encouraged. All bitterness and darkness of spirit, all sour 
unreasonableness, should be laid aside. By his cheerful, musical 
spirit, and by all that is implied in his inimitable gift of song, 
the negro may construct for himself here, to be taken with him 
when he goes to Africa, walls within which will dwell peace and 
palaces within which will be plenteousness. And when the time 
comes for the departure of large numbers for anything like an 
exodus the separation of the races will be marked by affectionate 
regrets on both sides. 




A DISTINGUISHED English statistician, in a paper recently given 
to the public, has called attention to the unprecedented wealth 
of the people of the United States and the products at their com 
mand. No clearer demonstration could be had of the accuracy 
of his estimate of our country's condition than is now being wit 
nessed in every part of the land. All the many evidences of the 
new prosperity to be everywhere seen bear proof of the recupera 
tive powers of our people and the abundance of their resources. 
After more than two yerrs of continuous financial depression and 
business stagnation, the summer months of the present year have 
been notable for the volume of trade which, as compared with 
similar seasons in other years, has characterized them. This un 
usual activity has not been confined to a single line of business 
or to but one class of manufactures. It has been manifest in all, 
and almost uniform in degree. The iron and steel industries, 
which appear to outstrip all others, are enabled to do so only be 
cause prosperity is coming to all. The railroad conditions of the 
country are improving, not alone because of the enormous crop 
of corn and other agricultural produce to be freighted, but be 
cause of the increase in the general carrying trade. Tl.e volun 
tary raising of the wages of more than a million laborers in mill, 
factory and mine, within a few months, has seldom if ever before 
been witnessed even in times of acknowledged and uninterrupted 
prosperity. This advance to the laborers has directly and indi 
rectly benefited so many others who are engaged in trade, indi 
vidually small but aggregating many millions of capital, that it 
is impossible to say just who of all our people has not gained 
from the improved condition oi the laboring classes. The gov- 


eminent has shared in the advantage, though in a less degree 
than the individual. Its receipts are now steadily increasing, 
each month of the present year showing larger returns from cus 
toms duties than the corresponding month of the preceding year. 
If its income is not yet sufficient to meet its expenditures, there 
is every indication that under the operation of the present tariff 
law that end will be speedily reached. There certainly will be no 
gradual falling off in this respect, such as characterized the work 
ings of the last law. 

This improvement in the people's affairs is remarkable when 
it is considered in connection with the shortness of the time in 
which it has been brought about and the events through which 
the country has been called to pass. The effects of the panic of 
1873 were felt with little lessening of severity until 1879, and 
even then there was no such revival as is now apparent. Two 
years after the panic of 1893 was at its height, the country may 
fairly be said to be out of the throes of it, and well entered upon 
an era of greater wealth and of extraordinary commercial and in 
dustrial activity. So great an advance is all the more wonderful 
in view of the circumstances which, to a greater or less degree, 
have contributed to the disturbance of our business world. 
Within a period of six years more business legislation of impor 
tance has taken place than during any equal length of time since 
the active war period. During this time the McKinley Tariff Act 
became a law, making the most material changes in tariff rates, 
the effect of which could not but be to disturb business, since 
these changes altered conditions as completely as if the rates had 
been intended to be revenue-producing instead of prohibitory 
ones. The same Congress placed upon the statue books the 
Sherman Silver Act, the influence and dangerous tendencies of 
which in the monetary world worked even greater harm and loss 
and caused greater doubt and uncertainty than the tariff act. 
These acts were followed by a Congressional election, giving indi 
cations of a coming Presidential election which would reverse the 
tariff and financial legislation which had been enacted by the Re 
publican Congress and sanctioned by a Republican President. 
The injurious consequences of the two legislative acts referred to 
had been felt long before the Presidential election which resulted 
in the selection of a Democratic President and Congress, and they 
speedily precipitated a struggle to repeal the financial legislation 


of the Congress of 1888 ; also to repeal its tariff legislation and 
enact something in its stead. The uncertainty surrounding the 
outcome of the attempt to repeal the Sherman Silver Act and the 
delay in. accomplishing it affected the entire business of the coun 
try. The beneficial effects which would have followed the speedy 
erasure of the obnoxious measure from the statute book were thus 
lost. There was not sufficient time for either the commerce or 
the industries of the country to revive when Congress entered 
upon a consideration of the repeal of the McKinley Tariff Act. 
Here, too, was delay and uncertainty. Such a condition in the 
enactment of legislation could not but cause a paralysis of busi 
ness widespread and far-reaching. The disastrous effects of the 
Sherman law, the contributing elements of the McKinley Act, 
and the consequences of delay in the action of Congress in their 
repeal of both, so turned the business world upside down that 
strikes became the order of the day, and disturbances in the ranks 
of labor, of proportions till then unknown, followed in quick suc 
cession. The movement of Coxey and his body of tramps, the 
riots attendant upon the railroad strikes under the leadership of 
Debs, and the long dispute between coal-mine owners and miners 
in the various parts of the country but added to the conditions, 
already serious, which affected our business world. Fortunately 
the country has come out of all these experiences, each of which 
added something to the elements which injuriously affected the 
country's financial interests. In the light of them all the wonder 
is not that the country has lost so much, but that it has lost so 
little. It is the strongest tribute that can be paid to the Ameri 
can citizen to note that to-day, notwithstanding the disasters at 
tendant upon these recent events, he is once more enjoying the 
frnits of a new prosperity full of hope in the future and more 
strongly than ever^a believer in the strength of his government 
and the wisdom of those who established it. 

It has been suggested by some who are inclined to take a 
pessimistic view of things that the advance made in so short a 
time is far too great to be sustained. The facts, however, as we 
have them through the Clearing House returns and other sources, 
warrant the assertion that the improvement in the business world 
is not of an ephemeral character, but, instead, is genuine and 
substantial. It certainly cannot prove to be otherwise if the 
fields of corn now maturing in the West yield the number of 


bushels which all the indications point to. It is impossible to 
conceive of the country not being wholly prosperous when the 
laborer has employment at remunerative wages, and the farmer 
has an abundance of produce, with markets affording profitable 
prices. The only danger which can intervene, and thus produce 
a reaction, would arise through our people's entering extrava 
gantly upon enterprises of a wholly speculative character. It is 
hardly probable, however, that such recklessness will be speedily 
shown. The results of such enterprises in the past few years 
have, in the great majority of instances, fallen so far short of the 
expectations of their projectors that those who have money to 
invest will be loath to invest in similar undertakings. 

One of the serious causes of conditions similar to those 
through which we have just passed arises from the utter reckless 
ness with which credit is extended to those who make it a 
business to promote this or that undertaking. The banks of the 
country are in a great measure to blame for having in the past 
few years made credit so cheap as to enable every character of 
speculation to be carried on. The outcome of all this has been 
that in many instances in many communities business booms of 
the most unsubstantial character have been fostered, to the great 
loss of all concerned. It is, of course, necessary to assume greater 
or less risk in order to increase the business of a community, but 
when the point is reached at which a bank or other financial 
institution bears the whole burden of sustaining every promotive 
undertaking in such community disaster must necessarily result. 
The number of communities in all sections of the country where 
inducements in the form of grants of land and bonuses in the 
form of money or other special privileges are extended to factories 
and other enterprises of a similar character will probably greatly 
lessen, because of the ill success which in so many instances has 
heretofore followed their so doing. When such is the case, it is 
safe to say that fewer town lot additions will be platted and made 
a part of every ambitious town solely for the purpose of enriching 
some shrewd real estate speculator. At the same time there will 
be greater care observed in seeing that such artificial means are 
not wholly relied upon for making such towns importanl^entres 
of industry and population. The unhealthiness of the business of 
a community based wholly or in part upon speculation can best 
be appreciated when it is realized that its character partakes 


largely of gambling, with all the consequent evils that come in its 
train. While it is probable that this character of business under 
taking was not as great within the past five years as in some 
periods of our history, it has been sufficiently large to contribute 
in no small measure to bring about the loss entailed upon so many 
within the past two years. It certainly has bred very great extrav 
agance in personal expenditures, and the same things character 
izing legislation in Congress have led to great extravagance in 
public expenditures. The wisdom of the situation is to indulge 
in a conservatism that, while on the one hand not refusing credit 
to legitimate enterprises, will on the other not extend it to such 
as are based largely upon future expectation. All this, it is be 
lieved, will be done, even though for a considerable length of 
time money will lie idle in the vaults of the banks and the trust 
companies. The loss of interest and dividends thus caused in the 
end is always much less than the loss which follows the collapse 
of a boom. 

Thus, taking into account the lessons learned through the ex 
perience which our people have just had, it is reasonable to believe 
that such wise conservatism will prevail in our business world 
as will justify the belief of those who maintain the solid 
ity of the present business conditions. No one at all familiar 
with its affairs will doubt that the credit of the government 
will be strictly maintained. There ought no longer to be 
any doubt on this point. The steps taken since the advent of 
the present administration have fixed beyond question not only 
the determination but the ability on its part to meet promptly 
every proper obligation of the government in gold. Its efforts in 
this direction have been so fully justified by the results which 
have flowed from them that there is scarcely left one among the 
well informed who is willing to criticise the action which thus far 
has been taken. It is to be regretted that the general govern 
ment bears such intimate relations to the individual business of 
its citizens, that the condition of its treasury should ever seriously 
affect their individual fortunes, but such must be the case on occa 
sions more or less frequent, until there is assembled at Washing 
ton a Congress, which has sufficient wisdom, business sagacity, 
and courage to enact such legislation as will permanently retire 
the demand obligations of the government, through payment of 
them in gold, and thus put out of the reach of speculators and 


others the means of throwing the country into a panic by making 
an assault upon the gold reserve in the treasury. It is one 
of the absurdities of our financial system that the govern 
ment voluntarily places itself in the position of being a general 
market of supply for the gold demands of not only our own 
people but the people of other countries. The whole system 
as it stands to-day is a source of continuing loss to the people and 
a menace to their prosperity. It is only because of the strength 
and determination of the President in devising and in sanctioning 
methods to prevent evils that otherwise would come upon the citi 
zen in his business relations that the country has been enabled, 
despite it all, to maintain a position where its financial condition 
commands complete confidence at home and abroad. 

How much it means to possess the confidence of those who 
are dealing with us in our ability and purpose to maintain unim- 
peached our monetary integrity is apparent from the change 
which has come over foreign investors in American governments 
and other securities since the consummation of the syndicate gold 
loan. Statistics are not at hand to show just what the amount of 
purchases by foreign buyers of our securities since that date have 
been, but the sales of railroad and other stocks have been especially 
large and at advanced prices. Not less benefit has resulted also 
from a ceasing to return to us stocks and securities already held. 
The importance of all this cannot be over-estimated. It is quite 
as essential to command the confidence of foreign investors as it 
is to hold that of our own people. This confidence, which leads 
them to send here money for investment, can be held just so long 
as there is here maintained a monetary system which accords 
with that of every other great commercial nation. It will fall 
away and finally be lost if ever a law is placed upon our statute 
book making our standard of value, independent of all other 
countries, either a single silver standard or a standard of both 
silver and gold. 




IN THE summer of 1878 I organized an expedition to move 
into and explore a wagon route and telegraph line west of Fort 
Keogh, to reconnoitre the country, and also to visit Yellowstone 
Park. I selected a command from among the most experienced 
veterans of the Indian Territory and the Northwest; and then 
with a strong wagon train, a well-equipped pack train, and all 
the appliances, camp equipage, and field equipment necessary, 
we leisurely moved up the Yellowstone. The party consisted of 
ten officers, four civilians, five ladies, and three children. 

We moved up the Yellowstone to the mouth of the Rosebud; 
thence up that beautiful valley to its head, practically going over 
the route followed by Ouster's command; thence over the 
high divide to the Little Big Horn, camping near the battle 
ground where the massacre occurred, and making a second exam 
ination of the ground, the topography of the country, and the 
distance between the different forces. In this second examina 
tion we were accompanied by some of the prominent actors in 
that tragedy on the side of the hostile Indians. 

Moving up the Yellowstone was a continuous delight ; the 
country was covered with rich verdure and the trees were in full 
foliage ; game was abundant, and the waters of the upper Yellow 
stone were filled with delicious trout. The officers rode on horse 
back, and the ladies and children, occasionally in wagons, were 
more frequently in the saddle. 

After ten or twelve days' march, as we neared the Yellowstone 
Park, I received information that the Bannocks had gone on the 
war path in Idaho, were committing depredations, and were com 
ing through Yellowstone Park, threatening to invade our own 


territory. Of course, this meant serious business and I at once 
prepared to check any such invasion on their part. 

Sending the non-combatants to the nearest military post, 
Fort Ellis, just a short distance from where Boseman now stands 
and immediately adjoining the National Park, I started with 
seventy-five men to make a forced march and occupy the passes 
of the mountains through which it was natural to suppose the 
Bannocks would attempt to go, on their way east. It had been 
their habit to go through the mountains during the summer 
season to trade with the Crow Indians or hunt buffalo. There 
were two passes through which they could travel, one of which 
was known as the Boulder Pass, a very rough and difficult trail, 
and the other was Clarke's Fork Pass, which was a distance of 
approximately one hundred and fifteen miles from our starting 
point. In order to meet all chances, it became necessary for me 
to divide my small force. Believing that they would be less likely 
to go out through the Boulder than through Clarke's Fork Pass, I 
sent Lieutenant Bailey with forty men to occupy the former 
position, while with the balance of the men I proceeded to the 

I had already sent forward scouts to the Crow agency, urging 
the Crow Indians to join us in the expedition against the Ban 
nocks. The Crows had always been loyal to the government and 
friendly to the whites, but as at the same time they had also been 
friendly with the Bannock Indians, they hesitated about going 
against them. The importance of arresting any hostile body of 
Indians liable to commit depredations on other reservations and 
neighboring settlements was explained to them. They were also 
offered rations and ammunition and all the stock that they could 
capture from the Bannocks. In consideration of these induce 
ments, they agreed with the scout that I had sent forward to go 
on the arrival of the command. When we did arrive, seeing the 
small body of thirty-five men march past, they inquired how 
soon the command would get there. They were assured that 
although this was the only command we had, it was composed en 
tirely of experienced Indian fighters, that every man in it was a 
medicine man, and that we needed no greater force to go against 
the Bannocks. But in spite of all we could say, they decided that 
they would not go with such a squad as that, so we told them to 
remain where they were. 


The command moved on, and in the course of an hour two 
strong, hardy, brave-looking Crow warriors rode up and joined 
us, saying that they were not afraid of anything and were going 
with the command. Their example was followed by others, the 
bravest first and the most timid last, until we had been joined by 
seventy-five Crow warriors. It then appeared more like an Indian 
expedition than anything else. 

As rapidly as possible we crossed the country, taking but little 
rest, and by forced marches reached the vicinity of Clarke's Fork 
Pass, discovering that up to that time there had been no sign of 
the Bannock Indians. The command was concealed in a "pocket " 
in the mountains, a name given by hunters and trappers to a very 
small park surrounded by high buttes and steep cliffs. The sol 
diers, Indians, horses, pack mules, all were kept concealed, and a 
few scouts sent out to occupy the crests of the high buttes and, 
using their field glasses or telescopes under the cover of some 
cedar or pine bush, to discover the first sign of the approach of 
the hostile Indians. Occasionally an officer would be detailed to 
crawl up the heights and examine the country especially Clarke's 
Fork Pass with his glass ; but he was instructed never to reveal 
as much as the top of his head over the crest unless it was 
covered by some bush or tall grass. 

On the following morning about eleven o'clock the hostile 
Bannocks were seen to appear on the top of a mountain, and 
slowly wind then way down the circuitous rocky trail, a distance 
of three or four miles, moving along down Clarke's Fork, and 
going into camp in the valley within six miles of the command. 
They unsaddled and turned out their horses (quite a large herd), 
posted their videttes or lookouts on the bluffs immediately ad 
jacent to the camp, built their camp fires, and settled down, ap 
parently confident of their safety, and utterly unconscious of the 
enemy concealed in their vicinity. 

To approach their camp it was necessary to pass over a level 
plain of two or three miles in extent, and the lookouts or 
videttes would have discovered the command the moment it 
debouched from its place of concealment. Having once dis 
covered it, it would be but the work of a moment for the Indians 
to jump on their ponies and escape over the foot hills and rugged 
passes of that mountainous region. We therefore decided to re 
main in our place of concealment, from which we watched the 


camp all that day, and then at night moved slowly down to within 
two miles of it. 

At nine o'clock that night I called the two Indians who had 
first followed us from the Crow agency,, and told them that I 
wanted them to discover the condition of the Bannock camp. An 
Indian wrapped in his blanket could crawl up under cover of 
the darkness and walk near a hostile Indian camp without being 
detected, whereas a white man would be immediately recognized. 
This was especially so as the night was dark and rainy, and the 
Bannocks were curled up sheltering themselves from the rain and 
cold, and if the Crow scouts had been seen, wrapped as they were 
in their blankets, they would have very likely been mistaken for 
some men belonging to the Bannock camp, walking about look 
ing out for their horses. 

The Crow scouts returned between twelve and one o'clock, and 
reported that the Bannock camp was in a very strong position, 
difficult to approach, with the sage brush as high as a horse's 
back about it, and that if we attempted to take it we would be 
whipped. The rain had then been pouring down in torrents 
for several hours, and the conditions were anything but cheer 

For this dangerous, hazardous, and valuable service, these 
two men were afterward well rewarded, but they were told at the 
time that the attack would be made at daybreak, and the Crows 
were expected to assist at least they were expected to capture 
the herd of horses, and they were then directed to guide us to 
the hostile camp. Slowly and noiselessly, the command moved 
in the direction in which the camp was supposed to be, stopping 
to listen in the dark, and occasionally making long waits for 
some ray of light or other sign to direct them. When we had 
moved to a distance that we believed would place us very near 
the camp, we halted and waited until about four o'clock or after, 
as we were not sure of its exact location or direction. Fortunately 
a dim light suddenly appeared on our left, about five hundred 
yards distant, indicating the exact locality of the camp, and that 
we had almost passed it. 

The troops were formed in skirmish line, and the Center 
directed to guide on this light, which was evidently caused by 
some one just starting a fire for the morning, and as good a line 
as could be arranged in the dark was made. The Crows were told 


to take position on the right of the line. The troops moved slowly 
and cautiously in the direction of the light, passing through the 
grazing herd of horses and ponies. A halt was occasionally made 
in order to wait until the troops could see a short distance, and it 
was noticed that, as we passed through the herd, the Crow warriors 
gradually commenced to quietly move off some of the Bannock 
horses, and instead of remaining on the right of the troops where 
they had been placed, they gradually worked to the left, and as 
they did so drove the herd to the rear. As day broke the troops 
were enabled to see, and they moved forward until they got within 
a hundred yards of the camp before opening fire. 

The Indians were taken completely by surprise ; some of them 
jumped into the river and swam to the other side, about fourteen 
of the warriors were killed and the balance of the camp surren 
dered. The fight lasted but a short time and was over by six 
o'clock in the morning. 

Before the affair was over there was scarcely a Crow Indian 
and not a single Bannock horse to be seen in the valley. While 
the Crows had been useful on account of their formidable num 
bers, the principal object of their attention was the herd of cap 
tured horses. While some of them did not stop until they had 
reached the agency, a distance of seventy-five miles, where they 
arrived about one o'clock in the afternoon, others left their cap 
tive stock in the hands of their friends four or five miles back in 
the foot hills and returned to the assistance of the troops. They 
did good service especially in calling out to the enemy to sur 
render and capturing scattered Bannocks ; also in capturing a 
small party that came into the valley later and were evidently 
following the main band with a lot of stolen horses, one day 

I had sent the interpreter on ahead from the Crow Agency, as 
we marched out to go up to Clarke's Fork, to see what he could 
find out about the enemy. He could speak both Crow and Ban 
nock. When he had gone over the pass and into the park he 
met the Bannocks on the other side of Clarke's Fork Pass. 
They asked him if there were any troops in the neighborhood. 
He replied "No," and then they said they wanted to go over and 
trade with the Crows. After leaving them he passed on as if 
journeying in the same direction from whence they had come, 
until he had got a safe distance away, and then circled around 


and reported to me the night before the attack. He was a good 
man and was killed in that fight. 

The affair was a very disastrous one to the Indians, eleven of 
their number being killed and a great many wounded, while the 
entire camp was captured with 250 animals. 

Our loss was small in numbers, but among the killed was 
Captain Andrew S. Bennett, of the Fifth Infantry, a most ac 
complished, meritorious, and valuable officer. It was a sad sight 
as his friends gazed upon his dead body, which Surgeon Redd 
had placed against a tree, with the shoulders bare, in order to 
examine the wound. The bullet hole was in the centre of his 
breast, and had evidently caused instant death. His features 
were as white and perfect as if chiselled from marble, and he 
looked like an ideal hero. It seemed hard that this true patriot, 
who had risked his life on many a hard-fought battlefield, both 
during the war and on the frontier, must meet his death far 
away in that wild and rugged region, amid the eternal snows of 
the mountains. His body was tenderly cared for and sent East 
to his relatives in Wisconsin. 

The command remained beside the rapid, clear trout stream 
that came down from the mountains, during that day, and in the 
evening witnessed the burial of one of the Crow warriors who had 
been killed in the fight and had been a very popular man in the 
tribe. After his body had been arranged for its final resting 
place, and bedecked with all the valuables that he had possessed, 
as well as some belonging to his friends, and his grave had been 
prepared on the butte near the camp, his body was lifted on the 
shoulders of four of his comrades, who slowly moved up the side 
of the butte chanting their sorrow in low, mournful tones, while 
the other Indians bewailed his loss according to the custom of 
their people. 





IF the chronique scandaleuse of the Second Empire were not 
so inextricably mixed up with its political history, I would fain 
have kept my pen clean of the former altogether. When one 
stands confronted with a regime which, during its eighteen years' 
existence waged four formidable wars, not one of which on 
careful examination seems to have been necessitated by the 
nation's welfare, the natural impulse is to look for the causes of 
such wars below the surface. 

And a glance below the surface reveals, behind that glittering 
Court which every one knows, with its ambassadors, chamberlains, 
generals, ministers, and ladies of honor, a seething mass of intri 
gue and corruption to find the like of which we must revert to the 
reigns of Charles II. in England and of Louis XV. in France. 
True, there is no titular mistress of the Emperor, either in the 
shape of a Lady Castlemain, a Duchess of Portsmouth or a Mar 
quise de Pompadour, but it is doubtful whether erstwhile Mrs. 
Palmer, Louise de Keroualles and Madame d'J^tioles were more 
fatal to the Stuart and the Bourbon than the women who surrounded 
the nephew of the great Bonaparte. Not one, save Princesse 
Clotilde inspired the public with that respect which is the first 
and foremost condition of the prestige of a dynasty whether that 
dynasty be hereditary, founded by the sword or intrigue as were 
the dynasties of Louis Philippe and Louis Napoleon. Of one 
thing we maybe sure, in spite of the cheers that greeted the Em 
press in public ; the French people spoke of the ultra-fashion 
able throng that surrounded her as the English of the latter 


end of the seventeenth century spoke of the court beauties of 
Charles II., as the French of the middle of the eighteenth cen 
tury spoke of the grandes dames of Louis XWs Court. And the 
gossip, an attractive dish of truth and fiction, especially where 
the Empress herself was concerned, spread over the borders of the 
land ; and, as in the days of Charles II. and Louis XV., found 
its way to the Courts of Europe. Smart attaches, if not their 
chiefs themselves, sent amusing accounts of the faits et gestes of 
the women and men that foregathered at Compiegne, Fontaine- 
bleau, and the Tuileries ; accounts which vitiated beforehand all 
the serious documents emanating from the Quai d'Orsay ; the 
recipients of the latter refusing to take au serieux the political 
aspirations of a sovereign who tolerated around him a society to 
the full as profligate and corrupt as that which had danced and 
disported itself in the salons and gardens of Versailles under the 
anC'ien regime. 

I have already indicated, at the beginning of the fifth 
part of these papers, the source of the following notes. There 
is no indication as to their exact date, nor were they all written 
at the same time, but several events to which they refer inciden 
tally show them to belong to the first half of the sixties. 

"I have just returned from Compie'gne, where I had not been 
for three years, and was irresistibly reminded of a conversation 
with Vely Pasha at a dinner party at the Tuileries shortly after 
the Emperor's marriage. The haunted look we noticed then on 
the faces of the courtiers and even on those of the sovereigns has 
altogether disappeared. On s' amuse fer me,* and I am not at all 
certain whether they are not enjoying themselves a little too 
much, and in a fashion not altogether calculated to enhance the 
prestige of the dynasty with the other courts of Europe. I 
must confess that my previsions, or let me say my expectations, 
in that respect have been woefully disappointed, although, at the 
outset, they bade fair to be realized. I did not for a moment 
imagine that the Tuileries would become dowdy, dull, and re 
spectable the greater part of the year and ridiculously bourgeois 
on so-called grand occasions, as it was in the days of Louis 
Philippe ; but I fancied that the golden mean would be ob 
served ; I fancied that the society there would become a cross 

* A paraphrase of a French commercial term "acheter ferme," that is, buying 
outright without any restrictions. 

YOL. CLXI. tfO. 466. 23 


between that of Versailles in the most brilliant days of Louis 
XIV. and that of the First Empire at its most prosperous period ; 
in other words, I fancied that part of the Faubourg St. Germain 
would gradually rally to the Second Empire, and neutralize by 
its grand air and unimpeachable manners the too obviously 
soldatesque sans-fafon, from which even the best of Napoleon 
III/s marshals and generals with the exception of Macmahon 
are not wholly free, the somewhat too conquering attitude of the 
male civilian element toward the women, and the rather challeng 
ing tactics of the latter in response. This blending of two 
sections of society no doubt commended itself to the Emperor, 
especially when, after his accession to the throne, he cast a look 
around him and found himself deserted by the bonne compagnie, 
and notably by the female part of it, that had graced the Salon 
of the Elysee during the presidency. With this end in view he 
would have willingly made many sacrifices to concentrate the old 
noblesse, and even gone a step further than his uncle under 
similar circumstances. Napoleon III. would have put the old 
noblesse into places short of the very highest, by which I mean 
that he would have entrusted the men with diplomatic missions, 
as he eventually did with few that came to him, although at that 
time he would not have conferred a ministry on a known partisan 
of Legitimacy. ' Those people understand nothing of politics, 
and I did not want them for that. I only required them for 
decorative purposes, for they are eminently fit to wear gold lace. 
I would have willingly gilded them on all their edges/ he said 

" And some of them consented to be gilt in that fashion, but, 
unlike their predecessors under the First Empire, they consider 
that the obligation is entirely on the side of the dispenser of the 
favors, and the nephew has not the strength of character of the 
uncle to tell them to leave the Court, if not France, unless 
their presence confers credit and not discredit on the dy 
nasty. In fact, I doubt whether any except the most drastic 
measures in that respect would be of the least avail now ; the 
thing has gone on too long, and instead of a Versailles of Louis 
XIV., blended with some of the virtues of the military and civil 
parvenus of the Napoleonic era, we have a glittering but utterly 
dissolute and ethically worthless society, which is simply a 
startling reproduction of the Pompadour era, plus the swagger 


and bar rack -language of the beau sabreur at his worst, when, in 
spite of that swagger and his late successes in the field I suspect him 
to be lacking in the sterling soldierly qualities and unquestionable 
warlike talents of his dSvanciers. The Court, as I saw it at Com- 
pigne a day or two ago, presents the most heterogeneous gather 
ing of humanity it has ever been my lot to behold away from the 
gaming rooms at Baden-Baden, with which it has also one trait 
in common besides its outward elegance, namely, its absolute 
egoism, the unscrupulous hostility of each of its members towards 
his neighbor, like himself in pursuit of a favor, a possibly profita 
ble transaction, or an intrigue. Like the gathering at Baden- 
Baden, it is, as I have said, composed of utterly dissimilar ele 
ments, of a semi-ruined old noblesse side by side with a pros 
perous Jewish financial fraternity ; of a bourgeoisie with all the 
greed of the French bourgeoisie of olden as well as modern times 
thick upon it, and sorely perplexed at its inability to keep its 
hoard ; of Harpagons emulating with wry faces the lavishness 
of the Gramont-Caderousses and the Demidoffs ; of rapacious 
would-be Massenas and spendthrift would-be Lasalles, but without 
the military genius that distinguished the Due de Kivoli and the 
hero of Prentzlau. 

" Do what one will, it is impossible to close one's eyes to 
these facts forced upon one's notice the moment one sets foot 
within the court circle, and the mental cataract which evidently 
prevents the Emperor from seeing them will, I am afraid, have 
to be removed one day, remote or near, with danger to himself 
and to his dynasty. The gambling stories alone are sufficient 
to make one's hair stand on end, and the culprits, whether 
they figure as hawks or pigeons, invariably belong to the 
army. Those convicted of cheating, albeit not publicly not 
merely suspected are not only allowed to retain their com 
missions, but 'are received at court as if nothing had happened. 

The Comte was caught red-handed at Chantilly a 

twelvemonth or so before the revolution that cost Louis 
Philippe his throne. He was compelled to lie low during the 
remainder of the Citizen Monarchy, and during the whole of the 
Second Republic, but at present he holds his head as high as ever. 
A lieutenant in the Guards, a victim that one, lost 20,000 francs 
at one sitting. He had not a red cent towards the money, 
but he did not worry himself in the least, and in the morning 


he simply applied to the Emperor. The move was a masterly 
one, apart from the young fellow's knowledge that the Emperor 
never refused an appeal for money as long as he had any to give. 
He wound up his request by saying that there were only three 
courses open to him, viz., the appeal he ventured on, dishonor, 
or suicide. Of course under the circumstances the Emperor 
could not very well refuse if he had felt inclined to do so, 
which, truth to tell, he did not. He could not very well 
have had it said of him that he had driven a promising 
young officer to suicide for the sake of a few thousand 
francs. I know well enough, though, what would have hap 
pened if a similar request had been preferred to Wilhelm of 
Prussia or Francis-Joseph of Austria who, I have not the least 
doubt, are as tenacious of the honor of their officers as is the 
Emperor of the French. The honor of the officer would have 
remained safe, but he would have had to pay for it with the loss 
of his commission.* 

" The Emperor scarcely reprimanded the young fellow. 
Opening a packet of money, he handed him the money. ' The 
life of one of my soldiers is worth more than the sum of which 
you stand in need/ he said, with that peculiar smile which con 
stitutes his greatest charm. ' But I am not at all rich and I 

* The laws on gambling in the army were and are very strict both in Austria 
and Germany proper. I do not know enough of Austria to be able to say what would 
have happened there under similar circumstances, but I fancy the author of the 
note is correct in his surmise that King Wilhelm would not have been quite as 
lenient as was Napoleon III. At any rate I knew two Prussian officers who lost their 
commissions for having gambled away more than ihey could pay. In the one case 
the gambling debt was paid ; the gambler was, however, cashiered. During my stay 
in Paris 1 used to meet him frequently; he had become a correspondent for several 
German papers. In the other case the debt was not paid; the dishonored gambler 
was obliged to leave the country. Ho took service in the French foreign legion. 
The last time I saw him, about three years ago, he was doing well as a military 
coach in London, for by that time he was close uoon sixty. The late Emperor 
Wilhelm, though, did not always punish so severely, especially when the offender 
happened to be the gainer instead of the loser. For sometime after the revolution 
of 1849 the Duchy of Baden was occupied by the Prussian troops that had helped to 
quell the insurrection. The officers quartered at Kastadt had been especially 
cautio'.ed againt playing at Badeb-Baden. One summer evening King then Prince) 
Wilhelm strolled int9 the gaming rooms and noticed an officer in mufti at play. 
The officer was winning, not much, but a good deal for a Prussian lieutenant, for 
there were four Friedrichs d'or on the red. He bad begun with one and the color 
had turned up twice. Just as he was about to pick up the money he caught sight of 
the Prince watching him. Terror-stricken, he ttood as if rooted at the spot. The 
red turned up a third, then a fourth time, still the officer did not move. At last the 
maximum is reached, and the croupier asks " Combien a la masse ?" No answer. 
" Combien a la masse ? " shouts the croupier once more. Thereupon the Prince 
walks round to the officer's side, taps him on the shoulder and says gently "Take 
up your money and go lest one of your chiefs should catch you here. 
As a matter of course, the lieutenant did not want telling twice. A couple of 
days later there happened to be a review at Rastadt. Prince Wilhelm caught sight 
of the lieutenant and sent for him. " Lieutenant * * *," he said, " after you went 
away, the red turned out four times more. I prevented you from winning four 
times the maximum which you would have been sensible enough to stake. You can 
draw upon me for that amount. But tase my advice; do not gamble again. 
M. Benazet is not the enemy to attack twice under similar conditions." 


might not be able at all times to redeem it at such a price. Go 
and sin no more/ 

"Of Napoleon III. 's goodness of heart there cannot be the 
smallest doubt, but I am afraid it is being taken advantage of on 
all sides ; and, what is worse, he knows it, and half of his sadness 
is due to his knowledge. The sentence, 'The life of one of my 
soldiers is worth more than the sum of which you stand in need/ 
is very pretty, but utterly untrue. I doubt whether Napoleon 
III. uttered it for effect. I do not think so. But take his army 
from whatever point of view you will from the military, the 
moral, or the social there are not many officers in it the redemp 
tion of whose life is worth 20,000 francs. 

" This does not mean that there are no competent and honor 
able men in that army to the efficiency of which France will 
eventually have to trust for her political supremacy in Europe ; 
but those men are systematically snubbed, discouraged, and 
thrust into the shade by the military Court party, which is dis 
tinctly a creation of the Empress, to whom the barrack-room 
manners of a Pelissier, for instance, are naturally distasteful. 
She seems to be entirely ignorant of the fact that between the 
fall of the First Empire and the rise of the Second there has 
sprung up a race of soldiers as far removed from the very wonder 
ful but nevertheless very ignorant and rough-hewn generals of 
the great Napoleon as the latter were from the highly-educated 
and highly-polished but nevertheless the reverse of wonderful 
generals of the ancien regime, who, like the Due de Saint-Simon, 
grumbled and threw up their commissions because at the age of 
twenty-seven they had got no farther than their colonelcy, which, 
like that of the immortal author of the Memoirs, their parents 
had bought for them when they were beardless lads. That mili 
tary court coterie dare not ignore the claims of a Pelissier, but it 
pooh-poohs the claims of a Stoffel, a Trochu, and a score of 
others who are their superiors in every way, except in the art of 
bowing and scraping, leading the cotillion, and coining smart 
epigrams. These men, the Stoffels and Trochus, are of opinion 
that if promotion cannot always be gained on the battlefield 
face to face with the enemy, it should at any rate 
not be sought for in the drawing-room, but be won 
in the barracks schoolroom, the drill-ground, and the camp. 
They are gentlemen in the best acceptation of the term, some- 


what Puritanical as far as their profession is concerned, and con 
sequently as averse to the introduction of the barrack-room into 
the boudoir which is the Pelissier way as they are to the intro 
duction of the boudoir element and influence into the army 
which is the way of the court coterie. The Stoffels and Trochus 
are the lives which are worth more than 20,000 francs apiece, or 
would be if their owners did not allow their tempers to be soured 
by the others, and did not keep sulking in their tents. 

" But if the court coterie objects to barrack-yard manners a 
la Pelissier in the drawing-room, they do not appear to enter 
tain a similar objection to introducing boudoir influence into 
the army. Of course the coterie would fain preserve a monopoly 
in that respect, but the courtesan claims in this, as in all other 
things, equality with the aristocratic intrigante. Here is a story 
to that effect which was running the round of Paris only the other 
day, and a story running the round of Paris soon spreads to the 
provinces and across the frontier provided it be scandalous enough. 

" Anna Deslions, whose real name is Deschiens and who a few 
years ago was taken under the wing of the famous Esther Gui- 
mont, lost her father. I suppose he was neither worse nor better 
than a great many French fathers of the lower classes ; he was 
perfectly aware of his daughter's doings, which knowledge did 
not prevent him from living very comfortably on the allowance 
she made him. Anna, it appears, was never tired of extolling 
his virtues, and insisted on his having a magnificent funeral, for 
the funds of which she applied to her ( protector-in-chief * who 
happens to be a general of brigade and a curmudgeon of the first 
water. He simply applied to the Military Governor of Paris for 
a battalion and the band of the regiment quartered in the Fau 
bourg Poissonni^re for the obsequies of a veteran of the First 
Empire, which request was granted most graciously. The funeral 
service was held at St. Laurent, and the female friends of the 
bereaved daughter mustered in great force. The papers gave a 
minute account of the affair, but somehow the story of the de 
ception leaked out. The general was reprimanded, but the 
Emperor, always anxious to avoid scandals, ordered the thing to be 
hushed up. He, however, stopped the general from inviting private 
tenders for the celebration of the yearly mass for the repose of old 
Deschien's soul, which that delectable warrior wanted to do in 
imitation of his fellow-soldier, General Fabvier, who died in '56." 


Thus far the note, the absolute accuracy of which I could 
prove by others in my possession and from entirely different 
sources. A careful study of these leads me to one conclusion, 
which I will endeavor to state as briefly as possible. Of all those 
who " had the ear " of Napoleon III., there were not more than 
four certainly not more than a half-dozen counsellors who 
were loyally devoted to him and to his dynasty. The others 
merely looked upon the dynasty as a stepping-stone to the 
acquisition of enormous wealth, as an instrument for the gratifica 
tion of their vanity, and the realization of ambitious schemes 
more guilty still. If the latter were unfolded here in their 
naked truth, the revelation would raise a storm of invective such 
as a man endowed with far greater courage than mine might well 
wish to avoid. This much I will say, come what may : with the 
exception of Persigny, Fleury, Kouher, Mocquard, Princesse 
Mathilde, Princesse Anna Murat (Duchesse de Mouchy), and, 
to a certain extent, Walewski, every man and woman at the 
Tuileries worked for his or her own hand, and by their matchless 
selfishness, utter absence of scruple, and overweening conceit, in 
curred the withering contempt and scathing, but nevertheless 
deserved, criticism of a section of society, the existence of which 
is tacitly ignored in every well-ordered community, in spite of its 
presence being as plain as the sun on a bright summer's day. 

The male counterpart of that section, consisting of chevaliers 
d' Industrie, company promoters of a kind, shady financiers, and 
the like, were more practical. They neither indulged in profit 
less sneers and recriminations against the manieurs d' argent at 
court, nor instituted comparisons between the latter and them 
selves. They knew that such comparisons would have been 
simply ridiculous. From the time that Mouvillon de Glimes 
had started his " limited company " entitled Soeiete Anonyme 
de Produits Chemiques, .and without as much as show 
ing a printed share or prospectus, had swooped in a million and a 
half of francs, with which he decamped across the Pyrenees, from 
that time the swindlers not affiliated to the court knew the futility 
of competing with those who were. The former might be just as 
clever as the others in many instances they were as clever and 
cleverer but the law, when it overtook them, had to show itself 
doubly severe to dispel the suspicion attached to it of having been 
utterly apathetic on former occasions. No one was ever deceived 


by this except Napoleon III. himself, who fondly imagined that 
the nation conld be hoodwinked by the system of making the less 
guilty pay for the more guilty, for it finally became a system. 
And thus it came to pass that the sovereign, who during the whole 
of his reign had been constantly engaged in shielding the most 
unscrupulous, and at the same time most cowardly, freebooter of 
his time, lent himself to the persecution for prosecution is too 
mild a term of a comparatively innocent man. I am alluding 
to Mirs, who was to Moray as John Law to the fraudulent son 
of a banker. The latter goes on using his father's name and 
influence to make dupes, knowing full well that when the crash 
comes the father will step in and hush the matter up at the risk 
of being reduced to beggary himself. 

That the Emperor had to do this frequently the papers found 
at the Tuileries after the fall of the Empire leave not the smallest 
doubt ; that he finally got tired of this incessant and enormous 
strain on his purse there is equally no doubt. One instance among 
many will suffice. One morning there came by appointment, 
of course to the Emperor's private room an individual, a mere 
glance at whom revealed the prosperous, irrepressible loud-voiced 
and loud-mannered brasseur d'affaires.* His fingers and shirt 
front blazing with diamonds, formidable gold chain across his 
chest, the ample cut of his brand new clothes, everything, in 
short, proclaimed the prosperity to be of recent standing. He 
came to submit to His Majesty the project of some new works to 
be constructed in the heart of the capital. The Emperor, though 
rarely surprised at anything, was surprised this time, and could 
not help showing his surprise. The scheme, though a vast one, 
had nothing to recommend itself or to distinguish it from a hun 
dred others ; it was on the face of it a gigantic building specula 
tion, and nothing more. The Emperor as good as said so, and 
added that in any case it was a matter for his Minister of Public 
Works and not for himself to decide, at which remark the appli 
cant opened his eyes very wide. "That would be true, sire, 
tinder ordinary circumstances," he began somewhat timidly ; 
" but in this instance your Majesty has been informed of the 
whole affair beforehand." This time it is the Emperor who opens 
his eyes very wide. "I have been informed of nothing, mon- 

* Literally "brewer of business": the French equivalent for the still more 
modern and more euphemistic English term " promoter." 


sieur," he says. " I beg your Majesty's pardon," stammered the 

applicant, ' ' but " " I beg your pardon, monsieur," replied 

the Emperor, " but " " M. de has told your Majesty 

nothing ?" "M. de has told me nothing." 

Thereupon the applicant, unable to contain himself any 
longer, burst out, " The cheat, the cheat ! And I who gave him 
a hundred thousand francs but two days ago, because he told me 
that your Majesty had promised him to support my project ! 
The Emperor calmly dismissed his visitor, but a few hours later 
he enacted a stormy scene with the official in question as a spec 
tator. The latter remained perfectly unmoved and simply 
smiled. "For two twos he would have applauded as one ap 
plauds a mummer at whom one laughs inwardly for overdoing 
the thing," said the Emperor bitterly, when he told the affair to 
Fleury. ' ' Instead of which, when I left off abusing him for 
sheer want of breath, he quietly remarked : e Your Majesty is 
really too kind to worry yourself about such an idiot as that." 

This is the synopsis of one of the innumerable one-act pieces 
that preceded the big tragedy entitled " The Campaign in Mex 
ico," the inception of which must have been due to some such 
scene as the one I described just now. Jecker, the Swiss 
money-monger, who had lent Miramon 7,425,000 francs or at 
any rate nearly half that sum in bare money was a somewhat 
more important personage than the Frenchman whom the Em 
peror had been obliged to dismiss so unceremoniously ; especially 
after he, Jecker, had done France the homor to become natural 
ized, and had begun to press his claim of 75,000.000 francs 
against Mexico. Morny himself, though daring enough, would 
not have dared to wash his hands of him, and instead of the play 
ending with the exit of Jecker from the private room of Napo 
leon III., the play had only reached the end of its prologue. I do 
not state this to be an absolute fact ; I merely surmise, for every 
thing connected with the initial business of the War in Mexico is 
so enwrapped in mystery that one must not speak with certainty. 
An attempt to let in light on that subject as well as on the sub 
sequent events consequently becomes impossible at the end of a 
chapter, but I will endeavor to do so in the next. 

(To be Continued.) 



REGARDING the situation of affairs in Cuba, upon which I 
have been invited to write for the NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW, the 
most recent information in my possession shows that the insur 
rectionary movement makes no progress and that as soon as the 
rainy season is over the government will increase its efforts to 
bring it to a speedy termination. The country at large is fully 
resolved to withhold support from a movement which must lead 
to ruin. Whatever strength the insurrection has shown has 
been derived more than anything else from external aid, assisted 
by the involved financial situation of the country at present. But 
for these causes the movement would have ended almost as soon as 
it began. 

Many make a mistake in believing that this insurrection is 
similar in character to the last outbreak in Cuba. According to 
the judgment of intelligent men there were causes which justified 
the previous conflict, and many of the principal citizens took an ac 
tive part in it, believing themselves so powerful that they refused 
the concessions offered to them by the then provisional government 
of Spain. That war was more humane. Entire towns took the 
field with the insurrectionists, but to no avail. The disappoint 
ment experienced by its principal leaders proved to them the use- 
lessness of such an undertaking, unless, indeed, they wished to 
convert the island into a scene of discord and racial war. From 
the result of that struggle thinking men and lovers of the coun 
try learned that the only hope for the well-being of Cuba was to 
remain under the Spanish flag, and so to obtain all the liberties 
enjoyed by countries organized under modern laws. Their efforts 
were being surely, although slowly, crowned with success, for 
under the sway of political order they were acquiring all the 


rights which belonged to them, and further attempts were being 
made, with all prospect of favorable result, for the establishment 
of administrative and economical reforms, the people of the 
island having direct control of these affairs. For these reasons 
men who reflect, and men who have families and material inter 
ests to think of, excepting, perhaps, some visionary schemers, do 
not approve of the present uprising, which is more anarchic than 
political in its character, as shown both by the means which it 
employs and by the greater number of the leaders who have 
thrown themselves into it, who have come from different quarters, 
and who, as a rule, have absolutely nothing to lose. 

At the conclusion of the previous rebellion, two political groups 
were created, one styling itself Union Constitutional o Conser- 
vadora, which comprises the greater portion of those who had come 
from Spain. This party had for its chief aim the defence of the 
flag without regard to class distinctions, but it sought in a cau 
tious and moderate way to effect improvements in the political 
situation. The other party, Autonomista, very largely composed 
of native Cubans and directed by the most illustrious of them, 
presented an autonomic plan similar to that in operation in 
Canada. This party was working with much constancy and great 
faith to bring about reform and by means of peaceful procedure 
to arrive at the goal of their aspirations. Having modified in the 
mean time, some institutions which experience had shown to re 
quire alteration, the conservative party did not develop according 
to the growing necessities of the times, the majority of the party 
being unwilling to accept the proposals of its more advanced 
wing. With the object of harmonizing conflicting interests and 
bringing together the antagonistic elements of the country, an 
economic league was formed, and men of both parties assembled 
to discuss in a fraternal spirit such economical questions 
as were of supreme interest to the island. This movement 
was suspended; but, as soon as Minister Maura presented his plan 
of reforms, it gave origin to a third party of an intermediary 
character, which is called Reformista. This party, embracing 
within it both Spaniards and Cubans, has been the bulwark by 
which the cause of true reform has been saved from ship-wreck. 
Such is the actual situation of the different parties. 

The idea of independence, which, without a doubt, has been 
very grateful to the majority of the native-born, experience in the 


previous outbreak proved to be futile. Little encouragement can 
be derived by those who cherish this hope from the examples of the 
republics of South and Central America, which have already be 
come emancipated. None of them has been able, owing to the 
diverse elements of their populations, to organize a nation under 
the form they originally pictured to themselves. 

Annexation to the United States, about which many dream 
more so out of the country than within it is an absolute impos 
sibility. The greater majority of the Cubans do not wish it, 
because they realize that, should it be put into effect, their indi 
viduality would disappear in a short time. The most thoughtful 
men of the island, to whom I have already referred, see no other 
solution than to continue belonging to Spain, to live tranquilly 
under the national flag, and to endeavor to bring about all the 
reforms which may be necessary for the well-being of the country. 

The United States have, in my opinion, great interest in 
whatever situation the affairs of Cuba may find themselves in. 
It is to their interest that the island should be prosperous, be 
cause in that way the commercial relations between them will be 
come wider and more fruitful. The number of American impor 
tations will increase more than those of any other country, owing to 
the proximity of the United States and Cuba to each other, and the 
cordial relations which have existed between them so long. This 
admits of no doubt, for if the mercantile balance is compared to 
that of all the countries with which the United States have re 
lations, none, considering the number of inhabitants, is of such 
importance as the commerce with the island of Cuba, and the 
greater the prosperity of that island the greater the produce it 
will be able to purchase. Were Cuba independent its relations 
with the United States would be practically the same as those of 
San to Domingo and similar countries, so that the American nation, 
being a calculating one, cannot help seeing, apart from the 
treaties which it has already made with the Spanish nation for 
the maintenance of peace, that the insurrection will be injurious 
to them. I am aware that some States like Florida, for example, 
which has grown through Cuban immigration and developed 
flourishing towns with regular industries -view these questions 
in a different light. Persons from the State just named, in 
spired by the desire for gain, are apt to commit infractions of 
international law, which may lead, to-morrow or the day after, 


to disagreeable complications between the United States and 
Spain, but the interest of the United States is not in having war 
within, much less outside. "What is to their benefit is the con 
stant and admirable development of their vast resources, which 
they are achieving to the admiration of the entire world. 

I have been recently misrepresented as saying that the Ameri 
can flag covered all crimes. But the remarks made above show 
how impossible it would be for me to make such a statement. 
What I have said is that certain things have been done to cover 
criminal acts against Cuba by the Separatistas or their sympa 
thizers, and by speculators who generally cover themselves with 
their American naturalization papers. And this is true. 




TEE political revolution of July, and the utter rout, for the 
time being, of the Liberal party, have engaged public attention, 
to the exclusion of other topics during the last six weeks. The 
ingenuity of publicists and partisans exhausts itself in an en 
deavor to apportion aright blame for the Liberal 'defeat, and to 
forecast its results for the next few years to come. The purpose 
of the present article is simply to discuss its effect upon Irish 
parties, and upon the government of Ireland, in the light of 
some recent experience gained in the country itself. 

In the first place it must be noted that amid the crash of 
parties, Ireland stands where she did; the changes in her repre 
sentation are microscopic, and the constitutional demand for 
Home Rule is presented by a slightly reinforced host of National 
ist members. The very obviousness of this fact, and the certainty 
with which ifc was foreseen, may cause its significance to be for 
gotten; but let it be remarked, once for all, that of the different 
proposals, applying to distinct portions of the British Islands, 
which formed and still form part of the Liberal programme, 
Home Rule is preeminently the one the position of which the 
general election of 1895, has done least to affect, as regards the 
district specially concerned. Fence with the matter as you will, 
the return of 83 Irish Home Rulers against 20 adherents of 
legislative union, forbids the most light-hearted Conservative 
to boast that there is no Irish constitutional question left un 

It is, however, the commonplace of the moment the easy 
resort of official optimism to assert that the eyes of Irishmen 
are fixed on the passing of a Land Bill, and not on political de- 


velopments towards self-government. There is enough truth in 
the statement to make it worth while to expose its essential one- 
sidedness. In the first place it leaves out of account the towns 
folk, whose interest in a Land Bill is extremely remote, but who 
yet maintain the Nationalist faith unimpaired, and often in the 
more extreme forms. Again, it lays undue stress upon the force, 
great though it be, with which appeal can to-day be made 
to the pocket of a class. It is, indeed, assumed by many poli 
ticians of the baser sort, and half credited by some who ought to 
know better, that not only in Ireland, but in England, Scotland, 
and Wales as well, the jingling of the guinea is the only music 
for your voters' ear. Lowered rates, grants in aid, old age 
pensions these are the only wares for the shop window, accord 
ing as landowner, or farmer, or artisan is to be tempted in to 
buy. " Freedom leaning on her spear" must have a cheque book 
in her pocket or she will attract little notice. Perhaps there are 
a few people left who will decline to believe that enthusiasm for 
a political idea is now an impossibility, or that the spirit is dead 
which destroyed slavery (though nobody was a penny the richer), 
and which set the whole country ablaze when the story of Bul 
garia's wrongs was told. 

There are, no doubt, in Ireland as elsewhere, some minds who 
recognize no higher appeal than the gain of the instant. There 
were a few Venetians, perhaps, and a few Hungarians, who would 
cheerfully have accepted Austrian domination in consideration 
for a rise of wages. To compare any English government of 
to-day with the Imperial government of '48 would of course be 
unfair ; but on the other hand, the administration of Hungary 
to-day, far more popular and sympathetic than that of Ireland^ 
has not abated a jot of Magyar pretension to self-government. 

It is, in fact, on the divisions in the Irish Nationalist Party, 
and upon them alone, that Unionists, who know Ireland, rely for 
the weakening of the popular demand. Some examination of 
these disputes, their causes, and their effect on public opinion in 
England and Ireland may not be altogether out of place. It is pos 
sible to extract three main elements of difference from the mass 
of mutual recrimination which crowds the Irish press : (1) resent 
ment of the treatment of Mr. Parnell in 1886 ; (2) personal dis 
putes, sometimes founded on incompatibility of political temper, 
sometimes, but seldom, on actual divergence of opinion and ac- 


tion on current questions ; and (3) the clash of clerical and anti 
clerical sentiment. 

The essence of the whole matter is to determine whether any 
or all of these grounds of quarrel are in their nature permanent, 
for it may be taken as absolutely certain that, so long as they 
exist, the passing of a Home Rule measure will be impossible. 

(1). It seems scarcely conceivable that the fight should 
forever sway round the memory of the dead Irish leader. An 
unprejudiced looker-on may be allowed to admit that Mr. 
Parnell received in some respects hard measure from his col 
leagues and followers, not so much in the fact of his dismissal as 
in the manner of it. Such an observer may also be permitted an 
expression of sincere regret over the disappearance from public 
life of a supremely interesting and in many ways admirable 
figure. The might-have-beens of politics are sometimes curiously 
fascinating and it is difficult to decide what would have 
happened could the Koinan Catholic Church in Ireland have 
tacitly admitted the somewhat dangerous doctrine that high 
public services may act as a set-off against private irregularities. 
How far a direct national defiance of Mr. Gladstone and of 
English public opinion might have aided or retarded the passage 
of Home Rule, is a matter on which everybody must form an inde 
pendent judgment for himself. 

It is perhaps easier to maintain that had Mr. Parnell bowed 
to the gale, and at once retired from the leadership, even the 
straitest critics would sooner or later have consented to regard 
his offence in the light of an "erratum," as Franklin professionally 
entitled a moral lapse of his own early days. 

Ireland has been the victim of many cruel ironies, but it 
would surely be the cruellest of all, if the personality of Mr. 
Parnell were to offer a permanent obstacle to the success of the 
cause which he championed. 

(2). It is not the purpose of this article to indulge in com 
ments on the conduct or the language of individual public men 
in Ireland. Such criticisms would fall with an ill grace from 
one who has held the position of the writer. It is well, therefore, 
lightly to pass over the personal element which unluckily plays 
so prominent a part in the present controversy. No feature in 
the situation is more disheartening to an English friend of 
Ireland, but it is easy to overrate its significance. Mr. John 


Morley has lately reminded us, with much force, that nothing is 
more likely to lead to the overstatement of a case or to intemper 
ance in argument than lack of early training in the exercise of 
public functions, and he added that if many Irishmen are still 
thus unpractised it is England that should take the principal 
blame. This truth may well be borne in mind by those who some 
times miss from Irish polemics what Gibbon calls " the well- 
guarded declaration of discreet and dignified resentment." 

Passing to strictly political subjects of dispute, by far the 
most important has been the difference of opinion between the 
followers of Mr. Eedmond and those of Mr. McCarthy as to the 
proper attitude of Ireland towards the Liberal party. Within the 
ranks of the Federationists themselves opinions upon this point 
have not always been unanimous. 

As time went on it became evident that the perfect independ 
ence of English parties originally maintained by Mr. Parnell, 
which Mr. Eedmond favored during the sitting of the late Par 
liament, would be rendered difficult by the continued adhesion of 
the Liberals to the principle of Home Rule. Government by 
casually associated groups is alien to English parliamentary tradi 
tion. Mr. Parnell had not much experience of this particular 
difficulty, but even he more than once found it necessary to quit 
his attitude of frigid isolation. It was not, however, until the 
rejection of the Irish government bill by the House of Lords in 
1893 that the severe test began. The question was then asked: 
Ought the Irish to support the government in carrying their 
British measures, or ought they, while admitting the loyalty of 
Mr. Gladstone to his declared policy, to exhibit once more their 
independence and their power by withdrawing aid from an ad 
ministration unable to carry out its good intentions towards Ire 
land ? The present writer, while gratefully recognizing the 
value of the support so honorably extended to the late govern 
ment by the Irish party, frankly admits that from a Nationalist 
point of view there was at first sight much to be said for the al 
ternative, policy. 

It may further be conceded that the result of the general 
election seems to uphold the soundness of this view. An earlier 
appeal to the country could scarcely have ended more disastrously 
for the cause of Home Rule. 

But, on the other hand, it must be remembered that the dis- 
YOL. CLXI, NO. 466. 24 


missal of a Liberal government by the act of the Irish members 
would probably have thrown a breaking strain upon the Liberal 
party. Even though the Liberal leaders recognized that Mr. 
McCarthy and his followers were acting within their strict rights, 
and had again set Home Rule in the forefront of their proposals, 
the rank and file of the party might have so resented enforced re 
consideration of the question, and the apparent abandonment of 
English measures, as altogether to endanger the existing alliance. 
True, the real blame ought to have been cast on the House of 
Lords, but it would have been the Irish hand which dealt the 
visible blow. It is, of course, open for Mr. Redmond to retort, 
as he probably would, that he for one does not want the Liberal 
alliance; but in that case one is entitled to ask in reply whether Mr. 
Redmond wants Home Rule, and how he proposes constitutionally 
to obtain it without the co-operation of one of the great English 
parties ? As the matter now stands, the Liberal party, defeated 
and diminished as it is, is essentially a Home Rule party; and when 
its turn again comes to succeed to power, it must again face the 
question of Irish self-government. 

There remains, it is true, still one alternative for Mr. Red 
mond in the hope of enlisting the sympathy of the Conservative 
party with his views and aims. AVe shall consider presently the 
possible outcome of the great Unionist triumph as affecting Ire 
land, but meanwhile it is not without amusement that onlookers 
have followed the phases of the flirtation between the Parnellite 
and Unionist parties. 

It remains to consider how far the reunion of the Irish party 
is likely to be deferred by reason of actual and legitimate differ 
ence of opinion on policy and procedure. If anything will close 
the existing breaches, it will be the coming period of struggle 
with the serried forces of reaction. The main subject in dispute, 
which has been discussed above, disappears with the Liberal gov 
ernment. Between the Liberal opposition and the Irish party, 
relations of friendly concord will probably exist, but of a less in 
timate character than were suggested to both sides by the small- 
ness of the government's majority in the late Parliament. On 
the whole, it seems likely that causes of offence between mem 
bers of the Nationalist brigade will tend to become fewer, save 
under one head, with which we must next deal. 

Mr. Lecky reminds us (vol. viii., p. 429) that "in the 


strange irony of Irish history few things are more curious than 
the fact that it was the English government which persuaded 
the Catholic priests to take an active part in Irish politics, and 
to take part in them for the purpose of carrying the legislative 
union/' It is something of an irony, too, which has " united 
English Liberalism with the Koman Catholic Church for the 
purpose of modifying that union " ; but in the matter of mutual 
loyalty neither party has had cause to complain of the other. 
Still, that the Conservative party should never have succeeded in 
winning over to its side this isolated branch of the greatest con 
servative organization in Europe is a singular and instructive 
fact. So long as old Tory traditions held the field it might have 
been difficult to form an alliance, but the capture of the Eoman 
Catholic Church would not have been unworthy of Mr. Disraeli's 
adroitness and enterprise. In some respects the task would have 
been easier in his day than now, before the north, then so 
Eadical, was pledged to support the Unionist party ; but signs 
are not now wanting, as we shall presently remark, that the Con 
servative chiefs of to-day may make some attempt of the kind. 
In that case the steadfast adherence of the hierarchy and priest 
hood to the popular party may be more severely tested than 
ever yet in the past ; but the Church as a whole is little likely to 
forget its national character. 

At this moment feeling is naturally running high between the 
League and Federation, on the ground of priestly interference 
with the recent elections. That such interference has been con 
siderable, and in some cases excessive, at any rate to English 
Liberal eyes, may be at once granted. But it is important tore- 
member the peculiar relation half paternal, half fraternal in 
which the country priest stands to his peasant parishioner. It 
would be strange if an intimacy so confidential, involving knowl 
edge of the most private affairs, did not color the public dealings 
of a person subject to the influence of another. 

During the late elections much ill-feeling has been awakened 
on this account, and it seems probable that as time goes on, the 
Parnellite section of the Nationalists will more and more be 
stamped with the character of an anti-clerical party. The ex 
istence of such a wing may be a misfortune, so far as it tends to 
present disunion ;, but in an Irish parliament where, as we are 
always being reminded, Rome Rule is dreaded under the name of 


Home Kule, it would play an important part by representing the 
element of Continental Liberalism in social and domestic 

The conclusion appears then to be this : That so far as the in 
ternal differences of the Nationalist Party depend on devotion to 
the memory of Mr. Parnell, or on the Attitude of Ireland to 
ward English parties, they will tend to diminish. Whereas, as 
between clerical and anti-clerical opinion the line of demarcation 
is likely to become sharper. 

As between Nationalist and Unionist, no very marked change 
seems likely to take place at present; there will be plenty of wild 
talk on both sides, but there is far less personal difference than 
is sometimes imagined. Of course, feeling runs high in Belfast, 
and higher still in some of the northern towns in which the 
number of Catholics and Protestants is almost equal. Here and 
there one hears of an event which comes as an agreeable surprise, 
as when in a North-Midland county, one recent 12th of July, the 
local Nationalists lent to a gathering of two thousand Orangemen 
their big drum, the prime requisite on such an occasion, and sent 
cars for conveyance of those attending the meeting. But such 
Arcadian amity is rare, though outside Ulster, in the districts where 
Protestants are in a small minority, good humored relations are 
the rule, except where well-meaning but ill-balanced persons have 
embarked on the futile campaign of religious proselytism. If, 
then as surely is the case the fuilure of the Liberal Party to 
carry Home Rule has in no way reconciled the Irish majority to 
the existing methods of government, and if the fissures in that 
majority are, on the whole, more likely to close than to widen as 
time goes on, what prospect has the new ministry of a continued 
period of order and of comparative contentment ? 

The answer is humiliating enough, seeing that the great Brit 
ish Empire has to make it. In the immediate future the apathy 
of Ireland, and therefore to some extent a quietude of the House 
of Commons, will mainly depend on two conditions, one positive 
and one negative, over neither of which the government will have 
a shadow of control. There must be fine weather, and no popu 
lar leader must arise to unite the Nationalist forces. 

During the past three years of liberal administration, the re 
markable peace of the country was in part due, it may be hoped, 
to a sympathetic method of government which made no terms 


with crime but which tried to enlist the best popular forces on 
the side of order. Nevertheless it would be absurd to deny that 
the task was made infinitely easier than it might have been by 
the material prosperity which prevailed till the spring of this 
year, and was then disturbed in isolated localities only. 

Again, Unionist England, as she values her repose, must re 
main fettered by the undignified necessity of beseeching Provi 
dence not to raise up a new O'Connell or Parnell. At this 
moment the various sections of the Nationalist party include 
men of high character, men of brilliant eloquence, men of strik 
ing business capacity ; it is an instance of the ill-luck which 
haunts Ireland that no one of them combines all the qualities 
needed for an Irish leader. England, in her secure and settled 
condition, does not ask for leaders. She requires public servants. 
These she uses to the utmost of their strength, gives them honor 
while they are alive, with money if they desire it, and buries 
them in Westminster Abbey when they are dead. But she 
reserves the right to criticise with utter frankness her most 
eminent sons, and if they displease her she is not above breaking 
their drawing-room windows. Ireland, on the other hand, as a 
nation who has suffered much, calls for a leader the Liberator, 
the Chief. He must be a man to appeal to the imagination, 
either by the burning eloquence and masculine bonhomie of an 
O'Connell, or with the magnetic influence and mysterious aloofness 
of a Parnell. Such a leader who knows ? is perhaps approaching 
manhood to-day and is dreaming dreams of an Ireland made pros 
perous and contented by his guidance, or, perhaps, unconscious 
of his destiny, he is now being wheeled in a perambulator along 
the pavements of Dublin or of Cork. At any rate, appear he will 
by the ordinary law of averages, which allots a hero to every 
nation now and again and, when he comes, the problem of 
how to govern Ireland, unless solved already, will once more 
thrust itself before the eyes of the weary predominant partner. 

It remains to consider the possible attitude of each section of 
the Irish party towards the new government, and the policy which 
that government may thus be tempted or compelled to pursue. 

It would be a fruitless task to prophesy concerning the Nation 
alist attitude in the House of Commons, towards an administra 
tion which up to the time of writing has made no coherent declar 
ation of policy in Irish affairs. 


Let us pass on to conjecture what direction Unionist tactics 
may probably take. It has long been believed in Ireland that if 
opportunity should otter, the Conservatives would attempt an 
experiment of their own and reorganize the details of Castle 
government, while maintaining the body of the present system. 
It was also imagined that if a Unionist government should 
assume office, Mr. Chamberlain would not consider the task be 
neath his great abilities, and that he would make his first appear 
ance in the unaccustomed character of conciliator. The ex 
periment is not likely to be made. The phrase " Clear out 
the Castle " has merits as an alliterathe cry, but the task is 
one from which statesmen of wider experience than the present 
rulers of Ireland might well shrink. For that task is the substi 
tution, for a non-popular but distinctly effective system, of some 
unknown scheme which by the hypothesis must be non-popular 
also, and for the smooth working of which there is no guarantee. 
Popular it cannot be, because the leaders of the popular party 
will have none of it. As it is, central control is the mainspring 
of Irish government. At one time it may be the Lord Lieuten 
ant, at another the Chief Secretary or the Under Secretary, who 
undertakes the real work ; but it always happens that one per 
former, or two, or three, play on the instrument while the rest 
of the official world blows the bellows. The system, like most 
centralized systems, possesses a certain attractiveness. That it 
works as well as it does is due in part to the fact that Dukes of 
Alva and Generals Hagnan are not found among English poli 
ticians of any shade of opinion ; in part to the publicity, even 
though it be inaccurate, which attends the doings, great and 
small, of those in power, and in part to the real merits of 
the permanent officials in Ireland. It would be impossible 
for the writer not to bear testimony to the high services 
and admirable common sense of many of these gentlemen, upon 
whom the sins and shortcomings of their political chiefs have 
sometimes been unfairly visited. The real vices of the system 
are its rigidity, its failure to encourage self-reliance in subordi 
nates, and its undue demand upon those who are called upon to 
control it. It is an undue demand because it predicates a per 
petual succession of public men, endowed in the very finest de 
gree with the qualities of impartiality, patience, and industry. 
More especially are remarkable governing qualities necessary fo? 


the members of a Conservative administration of to-day, because 
the country has admittedly to be governed without the concur 
rence and 'in opposition to the wishes of its constitutional repre 
sentatives. On the actions of such a government there is, in fact, 
no real parliamentary or other check. 

It is not only in the domain of law and order, but in almost 
every department of an Irish citizen's life, that the central gov 
ernment has its eye on him. The government of Ireland is a 
government by boards, and the system, by diminishing personal 
responsibility, tends to throw control even more than might be 
into the hands of the political chiefs and their immediate entour 
age. The Local Government Board has three members, besides 
those who sit on it ex-officio. The Prisons Board has three, and 
among boards of a different class eight to nine members sit on 
the Congested Districts Board, and seventeen on the Board of 
National Education. The Board of Works, representing the 
Treasury in Ireland as well as the Woods and Forests and 
the Board of Works proper maintains towards the Irish govern 
ment something of the attitude which an Indian resident might 
assume towards a powerful and well meaning, but occasionally 
indiscreet Maharajah; although friction has usually been avoided 
by the excellent personal terms which have existed between its 
head and the ministers of the day. 

Such is the machine not the machine which some of us 
might prefer, though by no means a bad machine in its way. 
Whether it would stand much tinkering is another question. 

We have concluded, then, that it is doubtful if any advantageous 
attempt can be made to reorganize Irish government on the present 
lines. Possibly the present Ministers, declared opponents of 
political change though they be. may attempt to provide the 
country with a scheme of local government. Such a scheme, 
counting so many points to the good in the struggle for Home 
Rule, if freed from the grotesque features which distinguished 
its predecessor, ought to receive, and probably would receive, 
serious consideration from the Irish members. To begin at the 
wrong end is sometimes better than not beginning at all. But 
the problem of how to give any local control at all, without 
alarming the favored landowning class, to whose support the 
government is attracted, if not actually pledged, is a desperately 
difficult one to solve. 


There are two other questions, each near boiling point, 
which await the declarations of the Tory government the ques 
tions of Denominational Education and of the Land, to each of 
which the late Ministers directed anxious attention. This is not 
the place in which to discuss the technical and exceedingly 
complicated points which have arisen since, in 1892, the Chief 
Secretary was called upon to consider the question of certain 
elementary Roman Catholic schools. After an infinity of discus 
sion between the Castle and the National Board of Education, 
those questions, relating mainly to the use of religious emblems, 
and of school books in which controversial matters are touched 
from the clerical standpoint, still remain undecided. Possibly a 
Conservative government, unfettered by a general belief in the 
impropriety of supporting centres of denominational education 
from public funds, may be able to terminate the tangle by cut 
ting the knot. It may thus, as was stated above, win the grati 
tude, if not the support of the Koman communion, without 
alienating the Protestant Church of Ireland, whose peculiar in 
terests may be specially safeguarded. In so doing it is certain to 
arouse the animosities, and alarm the prejudices, of the Non 
conformist bodies of the North ; but secure in its great major 
ity, it can perhaps afford to do so. 

These bodies, too, as forming a large part of the Ulster tenant 
class, are above all other men concerned with the settlement of 
questions left open, or as they believe unfairly decided, by the Land 
Act of 1881, and by the subsequent construction of its provisions 
by the courts of law. It is assumed, and may be announced before 
these lines are in print, that action will be deferred until next 
year, by means of a short bill postponing the date at which ap 
plications for fixing a new rent may be lodged. Such procedure 
will afford longer time for speculation upon the character of a 
measure for which Mr. T. W. Russell and Mr. Macartney, both 
members of the new government, and hitherto hopelessly apart on 
land questions, will each be more or less responsible. 

There may be some Irish landlords who look with little enthu 
siasm upon this transfer from Liberal to Conservative hands of the 
matter which chiefly concerns them. They may remark that pos 
sible concessions to the Roman Catholic Church on education 
may render it advisable to conciliate Northern Protestant opinion 
by free amendment of the land acts ; they may remember the un- 


palatable measures of 1887 and 1891, the work of Lord Salisbury's 
former administration; and they maybe fully assured that, protest 
as they will, English Conservative noble lords, so prompt to rush 
to their aid when a Liberal government is in office, will look on 
with apathy or a shrug while they are immolated upon the altar 
of party necessity, and a similar or perhaps stronger measure is 
genially introduced by Lord Ashbourne from the bench on the 
right of the throne. 

Time alone can show how far the pressure of circumstances 
may force the hand of the government. Their principal aim, as 
we are told, is to preserve a dead calm over Ireland, and to give 
no single interest a handle for agitation. It stands to reason that 
the most " loyal," and therefore least assertive, classes are most 
likely to be driven to the wall, as being least able to resent or 
retaliate for severe treatment. 

For the rest, a policy of conciliation may be based on a profuse 
expenditure from public funds. So 'long as the British taxpayer 
is willing to provide it, no friend of Ireland can object to the dis 
tribution of drafts on the Exchequer, if only they can be allotted 
without waste and without blighting the growth of the delicate 
plant self-help. In the past some public money has been 
wisely and profitably laid out, and a considerable amount 
has been entirely wasted. There are districts in Ireland in which 
the failure of a single crop means short commons to all and star 
vation to some. Here the ordinary operation of the poor law 
must be supplemented by grants from the general fund. On the 
other hand, the names of two places rise to the mind of the writer. 
Both have been largely assisted from public and private sources, 
and in each the result has been a marked lowering of the char 
acter of the inhabitants and a relaxation of their efforts to earn 
an independent living. It may be a strong temptation to earn 
some easy cheers from a smiling western crowd, and to see one's self 
belauded in the newspapers by some worthy priest for whom one 
has transformed the world by providing access to his parish. But 
these joys may be too dearly bough tat the cost of weakening that 
spirit of self-reliance which it should be the object of all govern 
ments to develop. 

Nobody can pass some years in Ireland, especially in an offi 
cial capacity, without becoming alive to the folly of dogmatizing 
upon the future course of events in the country. Much uncer- 


tainfcy must necessarily surround the immediate outcome of Irish 
politics. Neither English party is in a position to say that it 
can govern the country according to its desire. The Con 
servatives may at any moment be obliged to return to the 
exasperating methods of coercion, and to the weary see-saw of 
repression and reprisals. The Liberals, meanwhile, now frankly 
admit that Ireland cannot be permanently ruled by Englishmen 
of any party according to Irish ideas. Irish Nationalist ideas 
are by no means the same as English Liberal ideas, although a 
Liberal government, we hope, carries out its administrative 
duties in a more sympathetic and less alien spirit than do its 

The Irish on their part will have need for the exercise of much 
patience and self-control. It is not easy to see what advantage 
is anticipated from a rather childish demonstration such as the 
return of the convict Daly for Limerick city. It is only right to 
mention that the cause of the dynamite prisoners generally, and 
of Daly in particular, is supported by many Irishmen and Irish 
women, who hold in abhorrence the dynamite creed, but believe 
the convict to be innocent ; others again, while admitting at any 
rate the partial guilt of the prisoners, maintain they have been 
sufficiently punished by a considerable term of penal servitude. 
This is a point that may fairly be argued, but the election, said 
to be the reward of services to the Irish cause, seems to impale 
upon a dilemma those responsible for it. What were those ser 
vices ? Surely not the employment of dynamite ? If, on the 
other hand, Daly be innocent, he is an exceedingly ill-used man, 
and should receive every possible apology and compensation that 
the law can offer. But it is not clear how even this supposition, 
in the absence of substantial and known political claims, is to 
qualify him for the representation of an important constituency. 

We believe that the great Unionist triumph neither involves 
any abatement of Ireland's claims, nor an abandonment of her 
constitutional position. " Unfinished questions," it has been 
said, " have no pity for the repose of nations." Not very long 
ago it seemed likely that the Home Rule ship might make the 
harbor for which she was steering, but she was swept by the gale 
far out into the open sea. To retrace her course she must beat 
painfully against the wind ; but she will reach home at last. 




LESS than three years ago there was founded, in the back room of a small 
store on a side street in Toulon, a charitable project which bids fair to do 
more towards bringing about the solution of the social problem in France 
than all the congresses and conferences that have been held, and all the 
books and articles that have been written with that end in view. It is 
rapidly assuming the proportions of an international economic movement 
of the first magnitude. 

This charity, which has become an object at once of the astonishment 
and admiration of all Europe, is named " St. Anthony's Bread," after St. 
Anthony of Padua, and it is by the voluntary contributions of his clients 
that it is maintained. 

" St. Anthony's Bread" comprises not only food, but also clothing and 
medical attendance everything, in fact, necessary for the relief of the poor 
in general, and of the sick and afflicted poor in particular ; for its directors 
wisely hold that with this class one should always " make the good God 
visible." They ascertain the names of the laborers in the various parishes 
who are out of employment and help them to procure work, quite irrespec 
tive of their religious belief, or want of religious belief. Orphans are sent 
to school, the aged, the blind, the deaf and dumb are all placed in special 
establishments ; letters are written for those who are themselves unable to 
write, and advice procured from either doctor or lawyer when needed. 
While the deserving poor are thus sought out and all their wants supplied, 
professional beggars are tracked and exposed. 

The promoters of this charity, however, do not labor merely to solve the 
Social Problem, important though that work undoubtedly is. The corpor 
eal necessities of the poor are relieved through the medium of " St. An 
thony's Bread " only on the understanding that their spiritual duties are 
not neglected. The conditions imposed upon the workmen in this regard 
are of the lightest possible character. For example, one of the publications 
issued under the auspices of " St. Anthony's Bread" consists wholly of light 
literature, except for one brief paragraph of religious matter at the end of 
the last page. "We must give them the feuilleton or they would not read 
the instruction," it is explained. In friendly conferences, held at stated 
intervals, the same clientele is taught the lesson of mutual help and sym 

The writer recently had an opportunity of witnessing the practical work 
ing of this charitable project in the ** toughest " quarters of Paris, and has 
also discussed its various phases with Frenchmen of every shade of belief, all 


of whom with one accord acclaim its promoters as the nation's benefactors. 
Indeed, it will be surprising if "St. Anthony's Bread "does not result in 
the complete regeneration of the French working classes and if of these, 
why not of the working classes of all Europe and beyond ? For the scope of 
" St. Anthony's Bread " is no longer confined to France. As, at the start, it 
spread from town to town throughout France, so is it now spreading from 
country to country throughout the world. It is interesting to learn that this 
great work is to be introduced into the United States during the coming 
winter. The result will be watched with interest. 

As is well known, the literature of the social question is immense, and 
is growing rapidly every day. Herr Stamhammer, in his Bibliographic des 
Socialismus, enumerates some five thousand works more or less immediately 
dealing with it, and the catalogue is by no means complete. Words ! There 
were storms of words on this same subject long before the French Revolu 
tion. Theories are very well ; we may combat Mr. George and quote 
passages from Albertus Magnus down to Leo Taxil, but in this century, 
mere theorizing never brought about any reform. Action is the true policy, 
and no steps that could be taken in this direction are more thoroughly 
practical than those adopted by the founders of "St. Anthony's Bread." 

"St. Anthony's Bread" is based upon the divine principle of charity. 
And such Christian charities as this, which has for its aim the care of the 
poor without distinction as to race or creed, not only provide a sovereign 
balm for all the carking cares of the unfortunate, but have also the happy 
effect of eliminating acrimony from the minds of men. 



No DOUBT there were splendid specimens of humanity, both physically 
and intellectually, among the ancients. The Venus of Milo, the Apollo Bel- 
videre, the Farnese Hercules were not evolved from the unassisted imagina 
tion. Even if they were so evolved, they who conceived such glorious ideals 
would themselves have represented a high type of mankind. The Iliad and 
the ^Edipus Tyrannus are incontrovertible facts. Even among the earliest 
prehistoric races there must have been men of wonderful genius and energy. 
The man who kindled the first fire and broiled the first steak was the 
peer of any modern discoverer, and he who first smelted iron ore was the in 
tellectual equal of Edison himself. The prehistoric discoverer of the Ecliptic 
was not surpassed in astronomical achievement even by him who ages 
afterwards formulated the Nebular Hypothesis, or by him who chemically 
analyzed the the stars. Some of us moderns are disposed to magnify unduly 
the triumphs of our day in comparison with those of former ages, forgetting 
that they who built the lower stories of the vast temple of human achieve 
ment are as worthy of praise as they who raised it to loftier heights. It is 
still far below its destined entablature ; but even those whose privilege it 
shall be to place upon it its architectural crown in the sunlight of the 
upper air, will deserve no better of their race than those who laid its foun 
dations in the darkness of the past. 

Others are equally disposed to glorify unduly the past in comparison 
with the present. To them there have been no poets since Homer and Virgil, 
no orators since Demosthenes and Cicero, no philosophers since Socrates and 
Plato, no commanders since Alexander and Hannibal, no artists since Phid 
ias and Apelles. w To them only the dead languages are the fitting vehicles of 


beautiful and sublime thought. The modern tongues, in spite of Brown 
ing, Goethe, Hugo, Tolstoi, Whitman, are, asBlackie called them, "but 
barbarous jargon." 

Now I attach very little importance to the probable fact that, if the Iliad 
had been done for the first time in English, with all its picturesque power 
(with all deference to those who would insist upon the impossibility of such 
a feat), it would stand no chance whatever of acceptance by the great Ameri 
can publishers. Its rejection would, no doubt, be accompanied by the consol 
ing statement, made in perfect good faith, that it was not on account of lack 
of literary merit, but simply because it was not suited to present needs. Pos 
sibly some slight hope of acceptance might be encouraged if the twenty-four 
books were condensed to twelve. And this, by the way, might not have been 
so absurd a suggestion as it might appear to the school of antiquity-worship 
pers, who regard every line of the immortal poem as sacred, to whom even the 
interminable "catalogue of ships" would not bear abbreviating, notwith 
standing the manifest fact that the chief concern of the compiler was, lest 
he might inadvertently slight the skipper of one of the insignificant little 
boats. Imagine the whole Lilliputian fleet participating in the international 
naval review of two years ago ! What would Agamemnon and Achilles 
have thought of those mighty dragons of modern warfare, breathing forth 
clouds and shaking the earth with their roar ? Would not their trumpery 
Zeus and Ares have sunk into insignificance by comparison ? But then, on 
the other hand, suppose the glowing imagination of the childhood of our 
race had b^en brought to bear upon the mechanical achievements of its 
manhood ; suppose, for example, that Homer could have witnessed that 
grandest of all naval spectacles in the history of the world should we not 
have had something more adequate in its commemoration than long-winded, 
gossipy newspaper reports and a few feeble rhymes in the magazines ? Sup 
pose, again, that the Blind Bard of Seven Cities could have visited the 
White City in 1893, would any magazine have rejected the epic he would 
have been constrained to write in favor of any little lyric or ode that it act 
ually inspired ? 

But then we may have the epic yet, for poetry is not dead, even if the 
world has outgrown its glowing childhocd. 

Manifestly the world is aging far more rapidly than formerly, but it has 
not reached its decrepitude, as many seem to think. The time has not 
come for it to ignore the present and the future, and dwell only on the re 
mote past, like the old dotard who sits by the fire and thinks only of the 
wonderful things he did when he was a boy. 

Whether the individual man of to-day is, on the whole, naturally a finer, 
stronger, nobler being than his ancient progenitor, is a difficult question. 
Pessimists say he is a degenerate being in spite of his schoolhouses, his uni 
versities, and his oceanic literature ; his telephones, his electric cars, and 
his world's fairs. As a superabundance of food does not necessarily produce 
highly developed bodies, so, they say, a superabundance of mental pabulum 
does not create intellectual giants. A man may travel over the whole civil 
ized world, and return to his home with only a jaded interest in human 
achievements, with sensibilities only the more calloused to the novel, the 
ingenious, the beautiful, and the sublime. On the other hand, the optimist 
holds that each succeeding century has lifted the race to a higher plane of 
being ; that, where a man is subject to more new impressions in a day than 
his remote ancestor received in a year, perhaps, his powers must necessarily 


develop more rapidly. This would, of course, be true if he retained his im 
pressibility. An impression upon wax, however, and an impression upon 
marble are two very different things, as we learned in our First Reader 
in the primary school. 

But whether the individual man has increased in stature or not, there 
is no denying that the race as a whole has grown from feeble infancy to 
vigorous manhood, and that every living member of it would vastly prefer 
his share in existence to that of one of Homer's contemporaries, classical 
enthusiasts to the contrary notwithstanding. 



FROM the Colonial era till now the country roads in America have been 
a reproach to our civilization. Before the War of the Revolution plans 
were now and again discussed for bringing the various colonies into closer 
communion by means of well-located and well-constructed highways. In 
some of the colonies short stretches of good road uniting towns and settle 
ments were built, but there was nothing like a comprehensive system of 
roads uniting the fringe of settlements along the Atlantic coast, which then 
constituted the populated part of the continent. The idea in England at 
that time was that road-making was a matter of purely local concern, and 
the application of this idea resulted so disastrously that people in one dis 
trict would suffer for necessaries of life, when twenty miles away these very 
things in unneeded abundance would be perishing from decay. English 
ideas prevailed in the American colonies, and the roads remained un 

After the War of the Revolution the men who had a genius for adminis 
tration and the building up of commonwealths appeared to see with entire 
clearness that the States ought to be connected by a system of good roads, 
and that branches of these principal roads should unite the various parts of 
each State. Alexander Hamilton advocated road construction and im 
provement by the Federal and State governments, and Washington with 
his practical common sense, recommended that the opening, the making 
and the maintenance of roads be taken absolutely away from the local 
authorities. But less wise men could not see how the people of a city 
were interested in the roads in the country, and why those of one neighbor 
hood should concern themselves about the roads twenty or fifty miles away, 
which they rarely if ever used. And so, as before the Revolution, the 
country highways continued, for something like half a century, to be con 
trolled by the purely local authorities. 

Meantime Napoleon had given to France a wonderful network of roads ; 
and her agriculture and manufactures nourished notwithstanding un 
paralleled drains upon her for men and money. In England too the old 
parish and neighborhood idea of road construction had been in a great 
measure abandoned and roads after the plans of McAdam and Telford had 
been constructed nearly all over the kingdom. There was activity too in 
America and at last the principle was recognized by Congress and by several 
State legislatures that road-making was a matter for both Federal and 
State assistance. Several ambitious projects were discussed and the Federal 
government agreed to lend its aid to the construction of the National Road 
from tide water in Maryland to the navigable waters of the Ohio River. 


This work was started, but the plan was never carried out ; and to this 
day the United States government is a defaulter in its obligations as to the 
building of this great road. 

This abandonment of plans and abrogation of interest would not have 
been suffered, had it not been that the attention of the people was now di 
rected towards another kind of highway the steam railroad. The nervous 
and sanguine Americans of half a century ago were so sure that they would 
not need wagon roads any longer, as the railroads would serve their every pur 
pose, that they permitted their long cherished plans for road improvement 
to be abandoned and these highways lapsed into the care of the local 
authorities who wreaked upon them an ignorant revenge. In the older 
time the local authorities merely neglected the roads. Now they " worked " 
them. Several times a year the road inspectors summoned the valetudina 
rians and other incapables to their assistance and at great expense they 
piled the dirt from the ditches and the sod from the banks into the middle of 
the roads, where these materials served to impede and almost entirely stop 
travel, till the kindly rains washed them back where they rightly belonged. 

Less than ten years ago, however, a systematic agitation for the better 
ment of our country roads was begun, and the influence of this has been 
felt in every part of the country, while here and there in several of the States 
the roads of whole counties have been regraded, drained and paved accord 
ing to the most modern ideas of highway engineers. The record would be 
most incomplete were it not noted that this agitation was begun, and in a 
great measure has been kept up by the bicycle riders of the country. For 
some years road improvement has been one of the most vital of the public 
questions, and has been discussed with ever increasing interest by State 
legislatures and county boards. In the aggregate, very little actual building 
has been done, but in fourteen or fifteen States more liberal road laws have 
been enacted, laws under which the improvement and maintenance of the 
roads are less difficult than hitherto. In several of the States laws have been 
passed under which, under certain conditions, State aid can be given for 
better roads, and under which also when taxpayers require it the county 
authorities are compelled to make the needed improvements. But always 
the road improvers have had bitterly to fight the theorists who maintained 
that this was a matter of purely local concern. But progress has been 
steady though not rapid, and in some counties of New Jersey and 
Pennsylvania many miles of excellently smooth Me Adam pavement have 
been laid. And wherever this has been done the people soon became en 
thusiastic in the praise of these better highways, for before two seasons have 
passed in any such locality an unaccustomed prosperity has prevailed, and 
business activity has taken the place of that stolid patience which is generally 
a sad and discouraging characteristic of the country side. 

But the movement is in sad danger, and more in need of friends than 
ever before. Just as the steam railroad came into being to kill the efforts 
of the road builders of a former generation, the trolley is with us now, and 
the extension of these electric railways menaces road improvement in more 
ways than one. If we abandon our efforts for better common roads with 
the idea that the trolleys will satisfy all our needs we will in time realize 
that the extension of trolley railroads makes good common roads all the 
more important and necessary, for the trolleys will quicken the life and the 
movement in the country and make any slow and laborious movements over 
bad roads more irksome than before. Whenever there is an available 


water power a trolley railroad can be operated at an expense ridiculously 
small when compared to that of the ordinary steam railroad. The country 
people of this and the growing generation do well to look forward to the 
trolley railroad as likely to do them immeasurable good. But a fatal mis 
take will be made if they act upon the idea that when the trolley is in every 
neighborhood the old highway will not be needed. The old fashioned road 
will be needed more than ever. The accomplishment of speed begets a de 
mand for speed. People will not be content to labor and flounder through 
bogs and mudholes for half a mile [because they can fly the remaining ten 
miles of their journey. 

But the men who are engaged at present in extending trolley lines 
into the country are attempting a much greater wrong than that of the 
mere neglect of the improvement of the country roads. They are attempt 
ing to seize upon these roads and to convert them to their own uses. They 
appear to lie in wait to take possession of a country road so soon as it shall 
be put in excellent order for them. The unimproved roads are not nearly 
so eligible for trolley tracks, but the improved road with its easy grades, its 
excellent drainage and its Me Adam pavement is a trolley roadbed ready 
made and waiting for the tracks. And so they beset the County Free 
holders or County Commissioners for permission to lay these tracks by 
which, they say, the country people will get genuine rapid transit. More 
frequently than not the trolley managers get this permission without diffi 
culty, and when the tracks are laid the improved road is ruined for ever. 
When trolley builders have failed to get the permission of the authorities they 
have exercised the right of eminent domain and have seized upon the coun 
try roads. But here, as also in the other method, they have evidently gone 
beyond any privilege warranted by law, for the Supreme Court in Pennsyl 
vania, in a recent case, has held that " the laws originally framed to provide 
transit by street railroads did not anticipate the conversion of suburban and 
rural roads into long lines of transportation, connecting widely separated 
cities. The streets of a city or borough are in the control of certain pre 
scribed officials, who grant franchises with the consent of the mayor. The 
laws, however, very clearly confine the lines of transit within the city or 
borough limits. Township committees do not enjoy the power invested in 
city officials ; the former have no power to grant the use of roads or subject 
them to a servitude for the benefit of any corporation." 

It is desirable, to be sure, that trolleys should be near common roads, 
for then they are more easily accessible to those who are to use them ; but 
they should not be over the pavement, nor yet between the pavement and 
either of the ditches into which the surface water drains. The pavement of 
a roadway is made for driving on, and the laying of railroad tracks of any 
kind ends that use quite effectually. Nor should the tracks be put 
between the pavement and the ditches, for the tracks would interfere with 
the surface drainage and the pavement and the whole roadbed would be 
ruined the first time there was a freeze. The side of the road beyond the 
ditches appears to be the place for trolley roads, for there they would be 
quite easy of access and not dangerous to life and to rights as sacred as life 
itself. But permission even for such locations should not be acquiesced in ; 
the trolley builders should be compelled to acquire rights of way by lawful 





OCTOBEB, 1895. 



EACH age has had its distinguishing characteristic by which it 
has been designated in history, and the latter half of the nineteenth 
century might aptly be termed the era of expositions. Beginning 
with the great Crystal Palace of London in 1851, which was the 
first international exhibition, it will close an exact period of fifty 
years with the proposed Paris Exposition of 1900, having 
included besides during that period a dozen magnificent indus 
trial exhibitions at such prominent points as Paris, London, 
Vienna, Philadelphia and Chicago. While the exposition is 
but the natural successor of the market fairs of the middle 
ages of which an interesting example survives in the great 
fair that draws for several weeks of every year hundreds of 
thousands of visitors of every race to Nijni-Novgorod and the 
legitimate outgrowth of the state and county fairs of America 
and other countries, yet it has so far surpassed these latter in in 
terest and importance as nearly to crowd them out of existence 
with its dwarfing proportions. The exposition has thus become 
a most important feature of our latest civilization, and one whose 
vast results can only be cursorily touched upon within the limits 
of this article. 

The first pretentious exhibition of the resources and products 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 467. 25 

Copyright, 1895, by LLOYD BBYOE. All rights reserved. 


of the Southern States, which had scarcely recovered sufficiently 
from the devastation of war and the troubles of the reconstruction 
period to be represented at the Centennial Exhibition of 1876, 
was held in Atlanta in the fall of 1881, and was successful not 
only in attracting immigration and capital towards Georgia, but 
also in encouraging our own citizens by an imposing demonstra 
tion of the progress they had made. So great was its influence 
upon our industrial advancement that the very grounds and build 
ings in which the exposition was held were turned into cotton 
mills. This was followed by the Louisville Exposition in 1883, 
at which there was a fine display of Southern products ; and in 
1884-85 New Orleans made a still greater exhibit at the World's 
Industrial and Cotton Centenary Exposition. Now, while the 
wonders of the Chicago World's Fair are still fresh in the minds 
of all, while the effects of a great panic, in the very throes of 
which the project was born, are still being felt all over the coun 
try, Atlanta is holding her second exposition, which not only sur 
passes all former exhibits of Southern products but in many re 
spects even transcends the attractions of the "White City." 
If this appear an exaggeration, let it be remembered that each of 
the expositions mentioned had the mistakes as well as the suc 
cesses of all previous ones to profit by. The exhibit made by the 
United States government, for example, with all the material of 
the World's Fair to start with and an additional appropriation of 
$200,000 to draw upon, is much more complete in every depart 
ment than upon any previous occasion. In other ways it is 
claimed, and I believe without undue assumption, that this fail- 
is superior to that of Chicago, quality and not quantity being 

The appropriation of $200,000 for its own display is all the aid 
that has been asked for or received from the Federal Govern 
ment by the inaugurators of an enterprise that is estimated to 
cost $2,000,000 from the time it was begun to the time the gates 
close on the last day of this year, and may easily cost more. The 
people of Georgia may be misled by their pride in the pluck and 
enterprise of their capital city, but they do not believe that there 
is anywhere another city of less than 100,000 inhabitants that 
would undertake, unaided, an enterprise of such magnitude. There 
were good reasons why the " Cotton States and International Ex 
position " should be held at this time. Impoverished by war and 


exasperated by the limitless prodigality of reconstruction govern 
ments, when the citizens of the Southern States finally regained 
control of their own affairs they inevitably went to the other ex 
treme and framed their new constitutions with such careful 
niggardliness that no appropriations could be made by any legis 
lature, however liberal in its views, except for the absolute neces 
sities of administering the government. According to the strict 
construction of the province of a republican government, this 
may in reality be a proper public policy ; but in comparison with 
the broad-gauge modern administration of affairs in sister States, 
it often places the Southern States in the embarrassing position 
of poor relations. At any rate, it prevented them from making a 
proper representation at the Columbian Exposition. After it 
was too late, after they had seen and realized the magnitude of 
that great "World's Fair, and the benefits which might result 
from it, the citizens of Georgia regretted that they had not done 
by private subscription, even at some individual sacrifice, what 
the State was forbidden to do. So the leading people of Atlanta 
took hold of the matter and resolved to show the world that it 
was to no poverty of resources, largely undeveloped though some 
of these might be, that the failure to exhibit at Chicago was due. 
The people of the other Cotton States took the same view, and 
the result is that the world is being edified and delighted with 
such an exhibit of Southern industries, products, resources and 
achievements as was never seen at any exposition before, and as 
few of the citizens of this section ever dreamed to be practicable. 

Foreign nations likewise have been impressed by the char 
acter of this exposition and have prepared exhibits creditable in 
every way to the occasion. Thus the world not only has a chance 
to see what the South is and get a glimpse of its present glorious 
possibilities and future greatness, but the Southern exhibitor or 
visitor may compare his achievements with those of others and be 
the gainer thereby. Especially have the Spanish- A rre^can 
nations manifested a deep interest from the beginning of the 
enterprise and aided in every way in their power one of the chief 
ends for which it was inaugurated the promotion of closer rela 
tions with the other countries of this continent whose trade would 
seem naturally to belong to us. South America furnishes close 
at hand a vast market for the very grade of cotton goods that the 
South is now manufacturing in greatest abundance, and one 


which has been but little developed by our manufacturers. Jeans 
and cottonades are the general and typical dress of the South 
American, along with the different grades of white cotton goods, 
and there is no reason why England's present supremacy in this 
trade should not be contested and overcome. These nations are 
also large consumers of agricultural implements, which the South 
has every facility for manufacturing cheap timber, iron, labor 
and coal, which are fast being taken advantage of in this and all 
other lines of manufacture and development. The wonderful 
natural products of our sister republics are in turn spread before 
our eyes to tempt the desires of the shrewd trader into which the 
Southerner has developed since he has been taught the folly of 
being simply a cotton producer for the rest of the world. 

He would be no true American who should not go to the ut 
most limit in his conceptions of the future achievements, not 
only of his own country, but of modern inventive genius, and the 
Titanic force of capital. More than anywhere else the true 
spirit of Americanism exists in full force in the South, and 
hence we are ready and expecting the ultimate, and in all proba 
bility speedy, completion of the Nicaragua Canal ; and we be 
lieve that with the return of enterprise and investment, so long 
dormant that they must soon awaken, no adequate field can be 
found for their energies except in the building of an inter-conti 
nental railway along the line of the Andes and their northern 
continuations. The one would give the whole United States easy 
access and cheap transportation to the vast trade of the Orient, 
now so far away except to the few Pacific States ; the other would 
insure rapid communication with our sister continent that could 
not fail to bind us in the closest commercial union. By the suc 
cess of either or both of these schemes the Southern States 
would be the quickest and greatest beneficiaries, by virtue of 
their geographical position. Hence the desirability of better ac 
quaintance and closer communion with the nations of the South 
and the East has been held constantly and successfully in view 
by the promoters of the Cotton States and International Expo 

But the chief benefit of the present exposition, as it was of 
the exposition held in the same city fourteen years ago, is the 
better understanding which it is expected to promote between 
tho Northern and the Southern sections of this great nation of 


our own. The Chicago Fair demonstrated that even the greatest 
exposition ever held in the world was not great enough to attract 
to this new country any large number of foreigners, the majority 
of whom seemed to hold that their older civilization and develop 
ment leave nothing further to be expected or even desired. So 
those who will make or unmake the success of this exposition, so 
far as attendance goes, must be the citizens of the United States ; 
and there are many things here to' interest the best- informed as 
well as the most inquiring Northern and "Western visitors, not to 
speak of the genuine Southerner, whose attendance in large num 
bers is already assured. 

The South still remains largely an unknown land to the aver 
age Northerner, and its topography, flora and fauna, habits and 
customs, are almost as unfamiliar to him as to the untravelled 
inhabitant of another continent. Shut off from any close com 
munication with each other for the first two-thirds of the century 
by the vital difference in their labor systems, the Northerner first 
became acquainted with the real aspect of the South as a member 
of an invading army. That what he saw, even through hostile 
eyes, was not altogether unpleasing, is evidenced by the number 
of Sherman's soldiers who afterward settled in Georgia ; and while 
the larger proportion of Union soldiers did not get so far into the 
South, the number of veterans who have since settled in this 
section further sustains the good opinion we ourselves hold, that 
to know our section better is to love it more. The returning 
soldiers, then, introduced a little leaven that is still felt ; but 
after the war the country was rapidly filled up by a flood of immi 
gration that for over two decades poured in from Europe almost 
without cessation, and filled up the vacant places of the North, 
East, and West. Partly in accordance with a great natural law, 
and partly owing to the circumstances that the controlling influ 
ences were all in the victorious section, and NewYork was the only 
great port of entry, this tide of immigration flowed only on lines 
of latitude, and almost none of it seeped into the South. All 
the great railroads were built at that time to develop the "West and 
fill up its unoccupied lands. Only one straight north and south 
line, the Cincinnati Southern, was built to connect what was then 
the metropolis of the West with the gateway of the South ; and 
the purpose of this was not' to bring immigation and capital into 
the South, but to divert Southern trade away from New York to 


Cincinnati. All these potential factors have operated to keep the 
North and South apart, not to rake up political reasons that have 
so recently been buried that they are better left undisturbed. In 
view of the labor and socialist disturbances that an element of 
foreign immigrants has made more violent, as well as the congested 
condition of society and trade in the older Northern and Western 
States, it is easy to believe that the South, quietly working out its 
own destiny, has not really suffered by this apparently unequal 
distribution of fortune's favors. At any rate, it has left intact an 
American civilization of the highest order and the purest character, 
with many broad acres of land, which the experience of the North 
has taught us to offer only to a select and desirable class of immi 
grants, that we may escape the very mistakes that we did not have 
an opportunity to participate in at the time they were committed. 

All this is said in no disparagement of the many citizens of 
foreign birth who have enriched the history of our country, 
added lustre to its annals both in war and peace, and to-day con 
stitute a portion of our best and most useful citizenship. It 
refers only to that indiscriminate desire for mere numbers in 
population which has inundated some States with the ignorant and 
degraded, whose coming could not be checked after the dangers 
which followed the coming of such classes became apparent. We 
do not believe that in this broad land and under our enlightened 
government there should be any discrimination against a foreigner 
simply because he is a foreigner it has not been so very long 
since our ancestors were all foreigners but we do believe that the 
time has come when the privilege of American citizenship should 
be more highly valued and more securely guarded. 

As to the development that has kept pace with the world in 
manufacturing and other lines, and the resources that could be 
catalogued only by exhausting the lists of mineralogy, forestry, 
agriculture, and pomology, these must be left for the visitor to 
see for himself as he passes through the thirteen large main 
buildings in which the exhibits of the Cotton States Exposition 
are barely contained. 

Of equal if not greater importance to the prospective 
settler or investor than the character of the soil and 
climate, is the character of the society in his new environ 
ments. He who has travelled much over this country must long 
ago have been struck by the fact that the generality of the people 


are about the same everywhere. In the so-called wickedest local 
ities, he may be astonished to find much that is good, even if in a 
crude state; while model communities, much as they lament it, 
will continue to be sorely afflicted by some sinners. To the true 
American there is no North, no South, no East and no West he 
adapts himself to circumstances and becomes a natural part of his 
environments. The Southerner, as we have said, is essentially an 
American; and anyone who has not had a chance to see him on 
his native heath may know him by studying the essential 
characteristics, but not the local idiosyncracies, of his American 
neighbor. The haughty slave owner need no longer exist even 
in the Northern imagination, for the very good reason that there 
are no longer slaves; and most of the people now controlling the 
aifairs of the South never knew what it was to own a slave, though 
their parents may have had many of them. To-day all men here 
meet on the common plane of worth; if that plane still remains a 
high one, so much the better for us and for worthy people who 
would cast their fortunes with us. 

The condition of society in the South has been persistently 
misrepresented by a large class of Northern periodicals and 
writers. For a long time this was attributed to the malice of ig 
norance and that prejudice which was natural for awhile between 
the two estranged sections, as well as to political effect ; but now 
it is more shrewdly surmised to have its origin in baser if not less 
wicked motives. The object seems to be to maintain at any cost 
the commercial and manufacturing supremacy of the North and 
East by keeping capital and immigration from seizing the many 
superior natural advantages of the South. It must be for this 
reason that in certain Northern journals every crime that is com 
mitted in the South, whether great or trivial, is enlarged upon 
and invested with a sectional significance. It is useless to appeal 
to the sense of fairness where the facts cannot all be fully pre 
sented, or to make comparisons that might be so odious as to 
close the ears of the hearer ; but it is worth the while of the resi 
dent of any other section, who loves his whole common country, 
to come down and see for himself that the South is neither the 
home of crime nor the abode of lawlessness, and that the people 
whom he will meet from every State in the cotton belt are as 
quiet and peaceful citizens as himself. 

Especially has the attitude of the South toward the negro been 


misrepresented by the Northern press and misunderstood by its 
readers ; and this is the more grievous and seems the more un 
reasonable because the one thing which has clearly proved the 
crowning glory of Southern manhood has been the way in which 
the former owner has conducted himself toward the man who was 
his slave but the day before. Returning from a war waged not 
on behalf of the slave, but on account of him, the whilom mas 
ter, and the freed man, each put his hand to the plough and worked 
side by side in the furrows. And ever since the negro has had his op 
portunity in every calling in life alongside of the white man and 
if the latter did not every time provide equally for the children of 
both it was because sometimes his poor means failed, and the white 
man always rejoiced when outside philanthropists supplemented 
his efforts. The Georgia common school fund is divided in fair 
proportions between the whites and the blacks ; there is a white 
school of technology at Atlanta and a colored school of technology 
at Savannah, and so in the other States ; there are colored farmers 
and landed proprietors, colored carpenters, colored lawyers, doc 
tors and members of the legislature in all the Southern States. 
And in nothing will the Cotton States Exposition be found more 
instructive than in the'marvellous progress shown in every line by 
this emancipated people in their own building, designed by their 
own architect and contributed to and controlled solely by their 
own race. The movement was inaugurated by their leaders, and 
their plans were heartily encouraged by the Exposition manage 
ment. It was an opportunity they sought at the World's Fair, 
but sought in vain, just as they have vainly sought other privi 
leges elsewhere that are freely granted them in the land where 
they were manumitted. Does this bear out the tales of oppres 
sion so frequently told on the Northern stump and rostrum dur 
ing thirty years past ? No oppressed race ever made such advance 
from abjectness and barbarism to such a high state of progress in 
the arts and inventions as will be evidenced in the ample space of 
the negro building at this fair. Nor does any emancipated white 
serf or peasant in the white countries of the world have the same 
protection for life, liberty and property, nor the same opportuni 
ties for the pursuit of happiness, as are afforded the negro in the 
States where he was once a slave. 

Half the value of this lesson is lost if the thoughtful ob 
server does not realize and reflect that with all this the negro is 


not an integral part of Southern life and civilization. He was 
brought here and detained as an alien element, and we fully real 
ize that this makes our duty towards him the more exacting. 
God never tried to make him the equal of the white man, and 
the Southern Anglo-Saxon has too much reverence to attempt 
such an improvement upon the Creator's handiwork. It has 
been demonstrated to be impossible to put "black heels on white 
necks"; there has never been any desire on the part of the inev 
itably dominant race to trample upon the natural or legal rights 
of the black. But the problem which the nation, unable to 
solve, helplessly turned over to us, we claim to have in fair pro 
cess of solution, and we confidently urge all mankind to visit us 
and witness both the problem and the process. 

These are some of the many things which make the Cotton. 
States and International Exposition worth visiting even by those 
who have reveled in all the marvels of past expositions. The 
exposition is the epitome of the world's progress and- civilization, 
and each new one marks an advance and sets new lessons to be 
learned, so that it is not safe to rely upon those already seen. 
The world moves with such rapidity that even in these days of 
fast locomotion he who should go around it and immediately set 
out again on the same journey would find new things to observe 
all along his route. But it is no longer necessary to travel 
further than to the exposition to see the world's marvels. The 
wanderings of Ulysses become useless when all states and their 
ways can be found on one spot, and the aphorism of Epictetus 
that this world is one city is transformed into a literal fact. 
What travel once did for a few, therefore, the exposition now 
does for all ; it not only gives a sight of the strange and mar 
vellous, the useful and beautiful of other nations, but an insight 
into the character of the peoples and the causes, as well as the 
effects, of their differing civilizations ; it sweeps away prejudices, 
broadens the judgment, teaches that in all his diverse surround 
ings man remains practically the same, and impresses upon both 
the mental and the moral sense his universal brotherhood. 




Two or three centuries ago it was customary to deal with the 
insane in a way that to us seems simply barbarous. The un 
fortunate victims of mental disease were then thrust into dun 
geons, and often chained there. They were scourged at times 
with whips and clubs, and not infrequently they were burned or 
otherwise executed for witchcraft. 

It is an easy inference from these facts that our ancestors of 
those days were a very inhuman and barbaric lot. But the va 
lidity of this inference is very much weakened by the further 
fact that the barbarous treatment of the insane just noted was 
still everywhere in vogue barring the pyre a single century 
ago, and continued to be practised but little modified, in many 
places, far into the present century, at a period, that is to say, 
when our own grandparents, and even our parents were on the 
scene of action. Now we know that these immediate progeni 
tors of ours were not barbarians, and this knowledge may serve 
to vastly temper our judgment of our remoter ancestors. But 
why did either the one or the other permit atrocities to be 
practised which we now shudder to recall ? 

The answer is very simple. Our ancestors remote and less 
remote did not know that in treating the insane like dangerous 
beasts they were acting inhumanly. Enslaved to custom as 
we all are they dealt with the insane as custom dictated. They 
thought the scourge a righteous instrument for casting out devils; 
and it was not bad but misguided hearts that gave the pyre appro 
val. In other words, it was ignorance, not viciousness, that swung 
the lash and plied the faggot to the destruction of the pitiable 
victims of mental disease. No doubt indifference and selfishness 
contributed a full share toward keeping the people in ignorance, 


but be that as it may, ignorance itself was the cardinal sin 
that led to the abuses which now seem so unaccountable; ignor 
ance as to what insanity really is, ignorance as to the real duties 
that sane humanity owes to its alien unfortunates. 

We of to-day do not scourge the insane or chain them in 
dungeons. About a century ago three or four wise physicians 
Pinel in France, Tuke in Scotland, Rush in America taught 
the people that insanity is not a curse but a disease, and when 
this new idea had had time to make its way against the prevail 
ing misconception when ignorance was in some measure ban 
isheda new era dawned for the insane. To-day kindness, 
gentleness, tolerance, pity are the mottoes of those who deal 
directly with the unfortunate, once called a madman or lunatic, 
but now more charitably spoken of as an insane patient ; and 
the people, no longer ignorant as to this particular matter, are 
stirred to indignation at the mere suggestion that this spirit has 
been violated in any given instance. All of which, according to 
my contention, does not prove that we are infinitely better than 
our grandparents, who quite approved the things we now 
abhor ; but does show that we are grown in some ways vastly 

But unfortunately our wisdom is not yet all-inclusive, and in 
dealing with the insane to-day we are making some mistakes that, 
I suspect, will seem as anomalous to our descendants as the mis 
takes of our ancestors seem to us. With one of these mistakes 
we shall have to do in the present paper. I refer to the custom, 
widely prevalent, though fortunately not universal, of allowing 
partisan politics to become influential in the conduct of the asylums 
in which the dependent insane are cared for. The baleful effects 
of this custom are as yet fully understood only by those persons 
who have had opportunity to view the subject as it were from the 
inside. The public at large is still in ignorance of the real bear 
ings of the matter : hence the continuance of the evil. Ignor 
ance fostered by indifference and selfishness is still, as of old, 
the explanation of the abuses which society tolerates. In the 
hope of in some degree dispelling this ignorance, the present 
paper is written. 

Let me show by some illustrative examples, the ways in which 
politics has encroached upon a domain that of all others should 
be free from its infringements. 


The simplest and most readily demonstrable manner in which 
this encroachment may be made, is by the direct application of 
the spoils system to asylum appointments. This has been done 
again and again in various of our States. Perhaps the most 
recent, and certainly one of the most glaring illustrations is fur 
nished by Kansas. When Populism triumphed at the polls in 
that State, a mad stampede for the spoils began, and the 
asylum for the insane at Topeka was among the institutions 
on which the spoilsmen fixed their greedy eyes. With a woman 
at their head, morels the pity, they descended joyously on this 
asylum, and as it were sacked it without quarter. Faithful, ear 
nest, competent officials and employees of the asylum who had 
given their lives to the service, were ignominiously discharged, 
without pretense of their being unworthy, simply because their 
places were wanted to reward the politically faithful. Candor 
was the only merit of the action. No charges were trumped up, 
no attempt was made to conceal the real animus of the removals. 
It was purely a question of partisan political affiliations, and no 
one was asked to think it anything else. The official body that 
had direct charge of the disgraceful procedure is called one 
really blushes to record it the State Board of Charities. 

And what a band of the faithful came to take the places of 
the discharged officials ! There was real humor in the situation 
were it not for the pity of it. The halt and the blind, intellec 
tually and physically, trooped from all parts of the State, bring 
ing their political credentials, and were at once installed in the 
offices of the deposed asylum officials. Did they know aught of 
the care of the insane, of the methods of asylum management? 
Nonsense ! What did that matter ? Were they not of the faith 
ful ? Had they not worked and voted for the dominant party ? 
Were they not entitled to their reward ? 

The sequel follows so naturally that it scarcely needs telling. 
Managing a large asylum is no child's play, and of course mat 
ters were soon chaotic at Topeka. Preseatly there was internecine 
war among the faithful, culminating in the arrest of the Super 
intendent on charges preferred by the Assistant Superintendent 
the former of course bringing counter charges. Within a year 
the situation became so desperate that even partisan eyes could 
no longer be blinded, and the experienced Superintendent who 
had been deposed was recalled, to undertake the arduous task of 


bringing the asylum back to the high level on which it was be 
fore the political onslaught was made. 

Let me repeat that such onslaughts as this, and they are recur 
ring constantly in one State or another, are permitted by the 
people not through viciousness but through ignorance. The 
people of Kansas are not barbarians, however subject they may 
be to epidemics of the various phases of political insanity, but 
they are, like people in general, profoundly ignorant of insanity 
and all that pertains to its treatment. The State Board of 
Charities simply failed to realize what they were doing when 
they let politics threaten the welfare of the indigent insane of 
Kansas. I trust that they are somewhat wiser now, and that their 
experience may not be without a wholesome effect elsewhere. 

Another chapter of the story of Politics and the Insane is 
furnished by the experience of those States in which so called 
double-headed asylums have been established. New Jersey fur 
nishes a typical illustration. Here competent medical officers 
are installed in the asylums, but these officials are wofully 
hampered by the appointment of political wardens with powers 
almost or quite equal to those of the chief physician. The full 
implications of this system are not manifest to the uninitiated, 
else it would long ago have been banished. I have not space to 
detail them here, though the subject is tempting. Suffice it that 
such a double-headed institution is as much a monstrosity among 
asylums as is a two-headed human being among men. I am told 
that there was such a human freak on exhibition in the museums 
of New York not long ago. If I am correctly informed, the 
right head of this anomalous being controlled the left leg, and 
the left head the right leg; and the individual or was it two 
individuals? could not walk, because the two brains could not 
be taught to act concertedly. Well, a double-headed asylum is 
crippled in much the same way. The plan of having two heads 
for one organism is so radically wrong that no compensating 
circumstances can make it work efficiently. 

Do the good people of New Jersey wilfully perpetuate such a 
grotesque system ? Assuredly not. Most of them do not even 
know that they have such an anomaly among them. The poli 
ticians begot the monstrosity, and maintain it for the patronage 
it brings, and the people complaisantly submit to the imposition 
simply because they do not know that it is an imposition ; just 


as in most other affairs we let the boss politicians govern us while 
in our ignorance we fondly nurse the delusion that we are govern 
ing ourselves. But fortunately political affairs ha-ve changed recent 
ly in New Jersey. Quite a different Board of Control from the old 
political one now has charge of the affairs of the asylums of that 
State, and at last there seems some reason to hope that, before 
long, partisanship may give place to rationality in the conduct of 
the great charity of caring for the indigent insane. 

But perhaps the most telling illustration of the evils that 
result when the political vampire fixes his hold on supposedly 
charitable institutions is furnished by existing conditions in 
regard to the care of the indigent insane in our large cities. It 
has come to be accepted as quite in the natural order of things 
that the insane wards of large cities shall be wretchedly cared 
for. Boston furnishes an honorable exception, sending most of 
her indigent insane to the excellent State asylums, but New 
York, and Brooklyn, and Chicago, and Philadelphia the com 
munities where a large share of the wealth of this country is 
aggregated are disgraced in the eyes of right-thinking people 
by the manner in which they care for their insane dependents. 
And, in each case, the explanation given by those conversant 
with the facts is that partisan politics enters into the conduct of 
asylum affairs. 

The exact methods by which the spoilsman operates vary 
somewhat in the different communities, but the results to the in 
sane are much the same everywhere. Perhaps I can best make 
the matter plain by citing somewhat in detail the conditions as 
they exist in New York city. 

There are about 6,000 insane patients in the city asylums of 
the metropolis. The buildings in which these patients are housed 
have a normal capacity of about 4,000 inhabitants. Some of the 
buildings are new and reasonably good, but many of them are 
old and ill-adapted for asylum purposes, and a few are not decently 

As to the character of the food, clothing, and general atten 
dance supplied these patients, a statement of certain financial 
facts will perhaps be most convincing. The State asylums of 
New York, which are excellently but not extravagantly conducted, 
cost the State between four and five dollars per week for each in 
mate, exclusive of special appropriations for building and repair, 


etc. Conservative persons agree that as much as this is necessary 
to properly conduct the institutions, and in point of fact much 
more than this as much as $6 per week in some cases has in the 
past been at times expended. 

Now the New York city asylums are much less favorably lo 
cated, as regards economical management, than the country 
asylums, yet the largest per capita expenditure per week for the 
care of their inmates ever applied for their conduct is $2.80. The 
difference between $2.80 and $5 therefore represents relatively 
the difference between the conditions of the city and State asy 
lums of New York, provided they were under equally judicious 
management. No one need be told that $2.80 has not the pur 
chasing power of $5, and nothing more need be said as to how 
the insane dependents of New York city are clothed and fed and 

But it remains to note the anomalous fact that whereas only 
$2.80 is applied for the uses of the insane in the city asylums, 
almost twice that sum is assessed upon the property of the tax 
payers of the city for the care of indigent insane. The excess 
over $2.80 amounting in the aggregate to about $600,000 annu 
ally is turned into the State treasury, to be applied towards the 
maintenance of the State asylum system, with which the city has 
nothing whatever to do, beyond thus helping to support it finan 
cially. Brooklyn does the same thing, and together these two 
cities pay to the State half the entire sum required to conduct 
the State asylum system. Meantime, as they half care for the 
insane of the State, they also only half care for their own insane, 
with the difference that in the latter case no one is at hand to 
supply the other half. All of which seems very anomalous. 

The explanation is found in the old story of politics a story 
of legislative deals, of machine manipulations, of spoils. It came 
about in this wise. When the State Care Act, providing that the 
State of New York should assume control of all dependent insane 
and provide for them directly, instead of leaving that duty to the 
several counties, was under discussion in the Assembly, the political 
machines of New York city and Brooklyn had no mind to give up 
control of the patronage that came to them through handling the 
moneys appropriated by their respective cities for the care of the 
insane. So, after a battle, a compromise was effected by which 
these cities were to retain control of their own insane, provided 


they paid their full pro rata shares of the tax for carrying out 
the State system, exactly as if they were to enter into the system. 
That is to say, they were to share the financial responsibilities of 
the system without entering into its benefits. 

Now, it is easy to see why the people outside the cities con 
sented to this, since it took a large burden of taxation off their 
shoulders, but it is not so evident at first glance why the cities 
consented to be robbed in such a manner. The real reason, as 
just intimated, was that the machines were determined to re 
tain control of asylum patronage and were willing that the tax 
payers should be mulcted indefinitely to accomplish that end, if 

And so the deal was consummated ; the State- Care Act in 
itself an admirable measure was passed ; New York and Brook 
lyn retained control of their insane, their taxpayers being 
mulcted about $750,000 a year for the privilege ; the political 
machines handled the funds and doled out patronage to their 
friends ; and the insane got along as best they might, housed 
in buildings constructed and repaired by political contractors, 
clothed by other political contractors, and fed by still others. 

It must in justice be added that there is one mitigating 
circumstance in connection with the systems under consideration. 
This is the fact that worthy and competent medical officers are 
in charge of the New York and Kings County asylums. These 
men, hampered as the are by lack of funds, and by the political 
propensities of the Commissioners to whom they are responsible, 
have labored faithfully for their patients, and it would be doing 
them great injustice not to recognize the value of their efforts. 
Carrying such a handicap, their fight has been almost a hopeless 
one, but they have kept it up bravely. Especially is this true 
in New York city. 

The local asylum systems of Philadelphia and Chicago have 
not even this one redeeming feature. In both of these cities the 
condition of the indigent insane is even worse than in New York. 
There are competent medical officials in each case, it is true, but 
these men are made subordinate to lay superintendents who, what 
ever their qualifications, are political appointees. Under such con 
ditions the best results in asylum management are not even to be 
hoped for. It is conceded the world over that a medical man 
should be the undisputed head of every asylum for the insane, so 


the Philadelphia and Chicago systems are utterly indefensible. 
The reason they are persisted in is that the office of superintend 
ent of the hospitals of which the asylums are a part, is one of the 
political perquisites of the party in power; and that physicians are 
seldom politicians of the spoilsman order. 

The practical results of the political methods of caring for the 
indigent insane of Philadelphia may be told in a few words, which 
I quote from a personal letter written by one perfectly familiar 
with the facts : " The present system consigns the insane to 
wretched, crowded dark buildings, that have been odious and 
odorous for half a century, with no facilities for suitable out-of- 
door exercise or occupation. The plans and grounds of the asylum 
belong to a period long passed, and within the buildings the al 
lowance of fresh air equals but a few square feet per patient. 
All in all, the condition of the insane here is one of the saddest 
spectacles to be seen in this country. Yet the politicians have 
obstinately resisted every effort for improvement. " It scarcely 
needs saying that the reason the politicians resist efforts at im 
provement, is that the existing system gives them better facili 
ties for patronage than could be hoped for under an improved 
system, since in the nature of the case, improvement would 
imply banishment of the politicians from the field. 

As regards the condition of the indigent insane of Chicago or 
such of them as are not sent to the State hospitals the ground 
may be covered by saying that they are a few degrees worse off 
than those of Philadelphia. Eight hundred to a thousand patients 
are crowded into quarters that might with some semblance of 
decency accommodate half as many. A political lay superin 
tendent is in charge, and the spoils system has full sway in the 
appointment of all employees, to the lowliest scrubber. The 
abuses that have been from time to time unearthed in this in 
stitution in the past ten years read like the records of a sixteenth 
century " mad house. " They are quite too brutal and disgraceful 
to be recorded here. The world already knows of them through 
newspaper reports, which for once could hardly be exagger 

The most that can be said for the Chicago system is that it is 
probably not quite as bad as is was seven or eight years ago. At 
that time the County Commissioners, who have ultimate author 
ity in the matter and several of whom are now in prison serving 

VOL. CLXI. NO. 467. 26 


well-earned sentences set an example by falsifying bills for coal, 
clothing and provision; the asylum Warden who now keeps a 
gorgeous saloon and gambling house in Chicago followed close 
in their wake (supplying himself with sixty suits of silk under 
wear at county expense, among other accomplishments) ; and the 
subordinate employees, many of whom were notorious women and 
criminals, conducted themselves in all respects as might be 
expected of such characters. The ultimate victims of each phase 
of the political chicanery were, of course, the supposed recipients 
of charity. 

This, indeed, must be the obvious result everywhere of polit 
ical interference with asylum affairs. Did space permit I would 
show more in detail the channels through which such interfer 
ence operates disastrously. But everyone who is at all familiar 
with the meaning of the word "patronage," as applied to political 
affairs, especially in our cities, can supply the details for himself 
with sufficient accuracy. By recalling, for example, the number 
of large contracts for coal, food, clothing, building, repairing, 
etc. that must be given out each year by the persons controlling 
asylum affairs, and which may be, and under existing conditions 
are, given to political confreres exclusively, it will be understood 
what a political leverage the money appropriated for the care of 
the insane may be made to wield, even where there is no direct 
stealing of public funds. How dearly the politicians prize this 
patronage is well shown by the fact, already cited, that the 
authorities of New York city and Brooklyn were willing to pay 
three-quarters of a million dollars annually to the State rather 
than relinquish their hold on the local asylums. Had they 
chosen otherwise, their 9,000 indigent insane might have been 
cared for properly and even handsomely, as is done in the State 
hospitals, without a single dollar's additional expense to their tax 
payers, instead of being treated wretchedly as they are at present. 
But little enough cared the politicians for the interests of the 
9,000 dependents as against the selfish and unlawful interests of 
the political friends, whose loyalty, thus purchased, was needed 
to maintain the integrity of the "machines." 

At last, however, the power of the corrupt machines has been 
broken, for the time being, in both New York and Brooklyn; 
and, the friends of the insane seizing the opportunity so long 
waited for, are making strenuous efforts to have the asylums of 


these cities transferred to the State system. The existing law 
authorizes such a transfer, and unless some political trickery at 
Albany interferes, the transfer will be effected within the next 
few months. If this is accomplished as all right-minded persons 
must hope it will be the asylums of these great municipalities 
will be placed on the same high level with the existing State hos 
pitals. It will be a striking and gratifying change from the 
wretched conditions of the past and present, and it will give to 
New York city and Brooklyn the enviable distinction of caring 
for their indigent insane better than the similar dependents of 
any other large city in the world are cared for. For it is a note 
worthy fact that the large cities of the Old World have been as 
derelict as our own in their provision for the insane. Political 
interference is not with them as marked as with us, but every 
where there has been a tendency to niggardliness in providing 
for this most helpless class of dependents in cities, as compared 
with the provision made for them in rural districts. The asylums 
of Paris are antiquated and inadequate, and the same was true in 
London until recently, when modern quarters were provided for 
at least part of the insane. This London asylum, the new build 
ing of the Boston asylum, and a few of the buildings of the New 
York city asylum, furnish, so far as I am informed, the only ex 
ceptions to the rule that the buildings in which the insane de 
pendents of cities are housed are miserably unsuitable. No large 
city, unless it be Boston (which, as already said, cares for only a 
few insane directly), has an asylum plant that as a whole is any 
thing like up to date and adequate. 

And so it will continue to be while politics controls asylum 
affairs. And that will be, as long as the residents of our cities 
are sufficiently ignorant and indifferent to permit existing con 
ditions to continue. As I have said over and over, it is ignor 
ance and not viciousness on the part of the people as a whole 
that tolerates the abuses that prevail. It was the awakening of 
the people to true conditions last fall that enables us to hope for 
reform in the management of the metropolitan asylum through 
transfer out of the hands of the politicians. A similar arousing 
of the people of other cities must be secured before reforms can 
be effected, for the politicians will never willingly relinquish 
one iota of patronage, and until they are forced aside little can 
be done. 


Fortunately it is possible to point out the initial step which 
the reform movement must take in all cities alike. This is the 
separation of the affairs of the insane from those of every other 
class of dependents. At present the affairs of different classes o 
dependents aud delinquents in all our large cities are merged 
under control of a single board, known usually as a Board or 
Commission of Charities and Correction, which in all cases is a 
political board, and through which the political patronage is 
controlled. This massing of interests of diverse classes is illog 
ical and cumbersome (the New York Department of Charities 
and Correction controls about 17,000 individuals), but in all 
large cities it has been persisted in (having originated naturally 
enough, perhaps, while the communities were relatively small), 
partly through inertia, but very largely because the politicians 
have felt that a division would result in loss of patronage. When 
ever the people are wise enough to demand that the interests of 
the insane be made paramount to the interests of politicians, 
they will insist on making insane patients a class by themselves, 
under independent management. A movement is on foot to 
accomplish this in Philadelphia, and it would be accomplished, 
of course, in New York and Brooklyn by the proposed transfer 
to the State. It is to be hoped that both movements will pre 
vail, and that Chicago and other cities may soon also find means 
to emancipate their insane dependents from their political bond 
age. It is a burning shame that the most helpless of defectives 
should be preyed upon by politicians anywhere, and a double 
shame that the communities in which most of the wealth of the 
country is aggregated, and where the most advanced ideas are 
supposed to prevail, should be especially subject to