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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87c0b23 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66490 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66490) diff --git a/old/66490-0.txt b/old/66490-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 64d3bc0..0000000 --- a/old/66490-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7476 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, -Volume 9, by Ambrose Bierce - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, Volume 9 - -Author: Ambrose Bierce - -Release Date: October 7, 2021 [eBook #66490] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Emmanuel Ackerman, Robert Tonsing and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF AMBROSE -BIERCE, VOLUME 9 *** - - - - - THE COLLECTED WORKS - OF AMBROSE BIERCE - - VOLUME IX - - [Illustration: N] - - _The publishers certify that this edition of_ - - THE COLLECTED WORKS OF - AMBROSE BIERCE - - _consists of two hundred and fifty numbered sets, autographed by - the author, and that the number of this set is_ ...... - - - - - THE COLLECTED - WORKS OF - AMBROSE BIERCE - - VOLUME IX - - TANGENTIAL - VIEWS - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK & WASHINGTON - THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY - 1911 - - _FREDERICK_ _POLLEY_ - - COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY - THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY - - - - - CONTENTS - - - TANGENTIAL VIEWS - - SOME PRIVATIONS OF THE COMING MAN - CIVILIZATION OF THE MONKEY - THE SOCIALIST—WHAT HE IS, AND WHY - GEORGE THE MADE-OVER - JOHN SMITH’S ANCESTORS - THE MOON IN LETTERS - COLUMBUS - THE RELIGION OF THE TABLE - REVISION DOWNWARD - THE ART OF CONTROVERSY - IN THE INFANCY OF “TRUSTS” - POVERTY, CRIME AND VICE - DECADENCE OF THE AMERICAN FOOT - THE CLOTHING OF GHOSTS - SOME ASPECTS OF EDUCATION - THE REIGN OF THE RING - FIN DE SIÈCLE - TIMOTHY H. REARDEN - THE PASSING OF THE HORSE - NEWSPAPERS - A BENIGN INVENTION - ACTORS AND ACTING - THE VALUE OF TRUTH - SYMBOLS AND FETISHES - DID WE EAT ONE ANOTHER? - THE BACILLUS OF CRIME - THE GAME OF BUTTON - SLEEP - CONCERNING PICTURES - MODERN WARFARE - CHRISTMAS AND THE NEW YEAR - ON PUTTING ONE’S HEAD INTO ONE’S BELLY - THE AMERICAN CHAIR - ANOTHER “COLD SPELL” - THE LOVE OF COUNTY - DISINTRODUCTIONS - THE TYRANNY OF FASHION - BREACHES OF PROMISE - THE TURKO-GRECIAN WAR - CATS OF CHEYENNE - THANKSGIVING DAY - THE HOUR AND THE MAN - MORTUARY ELECTROPLATING - THE AGE ROMANTIC - THE WAR EVERLASTING - ON THE USES OF EUTHANASIA - THE SCOURGE OF LAUGHTER - THE LATE LAMENTED - DETHRONEMENT OF THE ATOM - DOGS FOR THE KLONDIKE - MONSTERS AND EGGS - MUSIC - MALFEASANCE IN OFFICE - FOR STANDING ROOM - THE JEW - WHY THE HUMAN NOSE HAS A WESTERN EXPOSURE - - - - - TANGENTIAL VIEWS - - - - - SOME PRIVATIONS OF THE COMING MAN - - -A German physician of some note once gave it out as his solemn -conviction that civilized man is gradually but surely losing the -sense of smell through disuse. It is a fact that we have noses less -keen than the savages; which is well for us, for we have a dozen -“well-defined and several” bad odors to their one. It is possible, -indeed, that it is to the alarming prevalence of bad odors that our -olfactory inferiority is in some degree due: civilized man’s habit -of holding his nose has begotten in that organ an obedient habit of -holding itself. This by the way, leaves both his hands free to hold his -tongue, though as a rule he prefers to make another and less pleasing -use of them. With a nose dowered with primitive activity civilized man -would find it difficult to retain his supremacy over the forces of -Nature; her assassinating odors would engage him in a new struggle for -existence, incomparably more arduous than any of which he has present -experience. And herein we get an intimation of a hitherto unsuspected -cause of the rapid decadence of savage peoples when brought into -contact with civilization. Various causes doubtless are concerned, -but the slaughter-house, the glue factory, the gas main, the sewer -and the other sources of exhalations that “rise like the steam of -rich-distilled perfumes” (which in no other quality they resemble) are -the actual culprits. Unprepared with a means of defense at the point -where he is most accessible to assault, the reclaimed savage falls into -a decline and accepting the Christian religion for what he conceives it -to be worth, turns his nose to the wall and dies in the secret hope of -an inodorous eternity. - -With effacement of the sense of smell we shall doubtless lose the -feature which serves as intake to what it feeds upon; and that will in -many ways be an advantage. It will, for example, put a new difficulty -in the way of that disagreeable person, the caricaturist—rather, it -will shear him of much of his present power. The fellow never tires -of furnishing forth the rest of us incredibly snouted in an infinite -variety of wicked ways. When noses are no more, caricature will have -stilled some of its thunder and we can all venture to be eminent. - -Meantime, history is full of noses, as is the literature of -imagination—some of them figuratively, some literally, shining beacons -that splendor “the dark backward and abysm of time.” Of the world’s -great, it may almost be said that by their noses we know them. Where -would have been Cyrano de Bergerac in modern story without his nose? By -the unlearned it is thought that the immortal Bardolph is a creation of -Shakspeare’s genius. Not so; an ingenious scholar long ago identified -him as an historical character who but for the poet’s fine appreciation -of noses might have blushed eternally unseen. It is nothing that his -true name is no longer in evidence in the annals of men; as Bardolph -his fame is secure from the ravening tooth of time. - -Even when a nasal peculiarity is due to an accident of its environment -it confers no inconsiderable distinction, apart from its possessor’s -other and perhaps superior claims to renown, as in the instances of -Michael Angelo, Tycho Brahe and the beloved Thackeray, in whose altered -frontispiece we are all the more interested because of his habit of -dipping it in the Gascon wine. - -The spreading nose of Socrates was no doubt a source of great regret -to him, whether its faults and failings were of Xanthippe’s making or, -as Zopyrus had the incivility to inform him, inherited from drunken, -thieving and lascivious ancestors; yet who would willingly forego the -emotions and sentiments inspired by that unusual nose? It seems a -precious part of his philosophy. - -The connection between the poetic eminence of Ovid and the noses from -which his family, the Nasones, derived its name is doubtless more than -accidental, and to our knowledge of his hereditary nasal equipment, -albeit we know not the precise nature of the endowment, must be -ascribed a part of our interest in his work. He to whom the secret of -metamorphosis was an open book is not affirmed to have made any attempt -to alter the family feature, as he doubtless would have done had he not -recognized its essential relation to his genius. - -Plutarch declares that Cicero owed his surname to the fact that -his nose had the shape of a vetch—_cicer_. Anyhow, his nose was as -remarkable as his eloquence, in its different way. Gibbon and the late -Prince Gortschakoff had noses uncommonly minute for men of commanding -ability, which may have been a good thing for them, compelling them to -rely upon their own endeavors to make their mark in the world. He who -cannot climb to eminence upon his own nose will naturally seek another -footing. Addison had a smooth Grecian nose, significantly suggestive -of his literary style. Tennyson’s nose was long; so are some of his -sermons in verse. Julius Cæsar, too, was gifted with a long nose, which -a writer in a recent review has aptly called “enterprising.” That Cæsar -was an enterprising man some of his contemporaries could feelingly have -attested. - -The nose of Dante—ah, there was a nose! What words could do it justice? -It is one of history’s most priceless possessions. One hesitates to -say what powers and potencies lay latent in that superb organ; one -can only regret that he did not give more time to the cultivation of -its magnificent possibilities and less to evening up matters between -himself and his enemies when peopling Hell as he had the happiness to -conceive it. - -Considering how many of the world’s great and good men have been -distinguished from their inferiors by noses of note and consequence, it -is difficult to understand that such “gifts of grace divine” as these -uncommon protuberances should be so sensitive to the blaze and blare of -publicity. One would expect that in the fierce light that beats about -an uncommon nose its fortunate owner would bask as contentedly as a -python in the noon-day sun, happy in the benign beam and proud of every -inch of his revealed identity. - -To art, effacement of the nose will be of inestimable benefit. In -statuary, for example, we shall be able to hurl a qualified defiance -at Time the iconoclast, who now hastens to assail our cherished carven -images in that most vulnerable part, the nose, tweaking it off and -throwing it away almost before the sculptor’s own nose is blue and cold -beneath the daisies. In the statue of the future there will be no nose, -consequently no damage to it; and although the statue may when new and -perfect differ but little from the mutilated antiques that we now have, -there will be a certain satisfaction in knowing that it has not been -“retouched.” In the case of portrait-statues and busts the advantage -is obvious. When the nose goes the likeness goes with it; all men will -look pretty nearly alike, and a bust or statue will serve about as well -for one man as for another. - -Perhaps the best effect of all will be felt in literature. To that -capital bore of letters, the scribbling physiognomist, the nose is -almost as necessary as to the caricaturist. He is never done finding -strength of mind and spirit in large noses, though the small ones of -Gibbon and Gortschakoff shrieked against his creed, and intellectual -feebleness in “pugs,” though Kosciusko’s was the puggest of its time. -When there are no noses the physiognomist can base no theories on them. -It would be worth something to live long enough to be rid of even a -part of his gabble. - -The conditions under which we live may so alter that the sense of -smell may be again advantageous in the struggle for existence, and by -the survival of those in whom it is keenest regain its pristine place -in our meager equipment of powers and capacities. But philosophers -to whom millstones are transparent will deem it significant that the -sense in question and the facial feature devoted to its service have -fallen into something of the disrepute that foretokens deposal. It is -now hardly polite to speak of smells and smelling, without the use of -softened language; and the nose is frequently subjected to contumelious -and jocose remark unwarranted by anything in its personal appearance -or the nature of its pursuits. It is as if man had withdrawn his -lip-service from the nasal setting sun. - -It is, then, well understood, even outside of “scientific circles,” -that the incompossibility of civilization and the human nose is -more than a golden dream of the optimist. Indubitably that once -indispensable organ is falling into the sere and yellow leaf of disuse, -and in the course of a few thousand generations will have been wiped -off the face of the earth. Its utility as an organ of sense decreases -year by year—except as a support for the kind of eyeglasses bearing -its name in French; not a sufficiently important service to warrant -nature in preserving it. The final effacement has been foreseen from -the earliest dawn of art. The ancient Grecian sculptors, for example, -who were great trimmers and were ever eager to know which way the -physiognomical cat would jump, tried to represent the human face of -the future rather than that of their period; and it is noticeable -that most of their statues and busts are distinguished by a striking -lack of nose, as above intimated. That is justly regarded as a most -significant circumstance—a prophecy of the conclusion now reached by -modern science working along other lines. The Coming Man is to be -noseless—that is settled; and there are not wanting those who support -with enthusiasm the doctrine that he is to be hairless as well. - -It is to be observed that these two effects, planing down of the -human nose and uprooting of the human hair, are to be brought about -differently—at least the main agency in the one case is different from -that in the other. The nose is departing from among us because of its -high sense of duty. Most of the odors of civilization being distinctly -disagreeable, and in the selection of our food chemical analysis having -taken the place of olfactory investigation, there is little for the -modern nose to do that the modern nose-owner is willing to have done. - -One of the most useful of all our natural endowments is what I may -venture to call the conscience of the organs. None of the bodily organs -is willing to be maintained in a state of idleness and dependence—to -eat the bread of charity, so to speak. Whenever for any cause one of -them is put upon the retired list and deprived of its functions and -just influence in the physical economy it begins to withdraw from the -scheme of things by atrophy. It withers away, and the place that knew -it knows it no more forever. That is what is occurring in the instance -of the human nose. We make very little use of it in testing our food—it -has, in truth, lost its cunning in that way—in tracking our game, or in -taking note of a windward enemy; albeit to most of the enemies of the -race the nose is almost as good an annunciator as the organs which they -more consciously address. So the idle nose is leaving us—more in sorrow -than in anger, let us hope. - -With the hair the case is different. It goes, not merely because its -mandate is exhausted, but because it is really detrimental to us in -the struggle for existence. Its departure is an instance, pure and -simple of the survival of the fittest. Little reflection is required -to show the superior fitness of the man that is bald. Baldness is -respectability, baldness is piety, rectitude and general worth. Persons -holding responsible and well-salaried positions are commonly bald—bank -presidents especially. The prosperous merchant is usually of shining -pate; the heads of most of the great corporations are thinly thatched. -Of two otherwise equal applicants for a position of trust and profit, -who would not instinctively choose the bald one, or, both being bald, -the balder? Having, therefore, a considerable advantage, the bald -person naturally lives longer than his less gifted competitor (any one -can observe that he is usually the older) and leaves a more numerous -progeny, inheriting the paternal endowment of precarious hair. In a few -generations more those varieties of our species known as the Mophead -and the Curled Darling will doubtless have become extinct, and the -barber (_Homo loquax_) will have followed them into oblivion. - -Another German physician (named Müller—the German physician who is -not named Müller has had a narrow escape) points out the increasing -prevalence of baldness and declares it hereditary. That many human -beings are born partly bald is not, I take it, what he means, but -that the tendency to lose the hair early in life is transmitted from -father to son. It is understood that the ladies have nothing to do -with the matter; they are never bald, but the hair of none of them, I -understand, is so long and thick as it once was. - -It is difficult to offset such facts as these with facts of a contrary -sort. Cowboys and artists—sometimes poets—are found with long hair, but -long hair is not thought to be an advantage to them, if, indeed, any -hair at all is. For wiping the bowie-knife, the paint brush or the pen, -hair, no doubt, is useful, but hardly more so than the coat-sleeve. -Even in these instances, then, where at first thought there might seem -to be a relation of cause and effect between length of hair and length -of life, the appearance is fallacious. A bald-headed cowboy would, -however, be less liable to scalping by the Red Man. It appears, then, -that Dr. Müller’s cheerful prediction regarding the heads of Posterity -rests upon a foundation of truth. - -Some of the doctor’s arguments, however, seem erroneous. For example, -he thinks the masculine fashion of cutting off the hair an evidence -that men instinctively know hair to be injurious—that is to say, a -disadvantage in the struggle for existence. This I can not admit; -it does not follow, for testators have a fashion of cutting off -legatees-expectant, yet legatees-expectant are not injurious—until -known to be cut off; and then the testator’s struggle for existence is -commonly finished. Capitalists have a fashion of cutting off coupons; -it hardly needs to be pointed out that coupons are not amongst the -malign influences tending to the shortening of life. - -I have tried (with some success, I hope) to show that hair is a -disadvantage, but this view derives no support from the scissors. If -the hair of men were obviously, conspicuously beneficial; if it made -them healthy, wealthy and as wise as they care to be; if they needed -it in their business; if they could not at all get on without it—they -would doubtless cut it a little oftener and a little closer than they -do now. Men are that way. - -The truth of the matter is plain enough. Men become bald because they -keep cutting their hair. Every man has a certain amount of capillary -energy, so to say. He can produce such a length of hair and no more, -as the spider can spin only so much web and then must cease to be a -spinster. By cutting the hair we keep it exhausting its allowance -of energy by growth; when all is gone growth stops, and the roots, -having no longer a use, decay. By letting their hair grow as long as -it will women retain it. The difference is the same as that between -two coils of rope, equal in length, one of which is constantly payed -out, the other not. If this explanation do not compose the immemorial -controversy about the cause of men’s baldness the prospect of its -composure by that phenomenon’s universality will be hailed with -delight by all who love a quiet life. The first generation to forget -that men ever had hair will be the first to know the happiness of -peace; the succeeding one will begin a dispute about the cause of hair -in woman. - -An important discovery made and stated with confidence is that to -the human tooth, also, civilization is hateful and insupportable. -Dr. Denison Pedley, whose name carries great weight (and would to -whomsoever it might belong) examined the teeth of no fewer than 3,114 -children, and only 707 had full sets of sound ones. That was in -England; what would be shown by a look-in at the mouths of the young -of a more highly civilized race—say the Missourians—one shudders to -conjecture. That nearly all the savages whom one meets have good -enough teeth is a matter of common observation; and missionaries in -some of the remoter parts of Starkest Africa attest this fact with -much feeling. Yet in all enlightened countries the prosperous dentist -abounds in quantity. - -But perhaps the most significant testimony is that of another English -gentleman, with another honored name—J. K. Mummery, who examined every -skull that he could lay his eyes on during twenty years. He affirms -an almost total absence of _caries_ among the oldest specimens, -those belonging to the Stone Age. Among the Celts, who succeeded these, -and who knew enough to make metal weapons, but not enough to refrain -from using them, the decayed tooth was an incident of more frequent -occurrence; and the Roman conquest introduced it in great profusion. -When the Romans were driven out they took their back teeth along with -them, but the flawless incisor, the hale bicuspid are afterward rarely -encountered. Craniologists affirm a similar state of things wherever -there have been successive or overlapping civilizations: the skulls all -tell the same story—their vote is unanimous. If the alarming progress -of enlightenment be not stayed the hairless and noseless man of the -future will undoubtedly subsist, not as we, upon his neighbor, but upon -spoon-victuals and memories of the past. - - - - - CIVILIZATION OF THE MONKEY - - -Professor Garner, who has penetrated the mystery of the sibilants -and gutturals with which monkeys prefer to converse, is said to -entertain the glittering hope that by means of his discoveries these -contemporary ancestors of ours may be elevated to civilization. The -prospect is fascinating exceedingly. It opens to conjecture an almost -limitless domain of human interest. It illuminates, with a light as of -revelation, numberless paths of endeavor leading to glorious goals of -achievement. - -The crying need of our time is more civilization. We have made a rather -lamentable failure in the attempt to elevate certain of the lower -races, such as the Chinese, the Sabbatarians and the Protectionists; -and to still others we have imparted only dim and transient gleams -of our great light. Some, indeed, we have civilized so imperfectly -that they might almost as well have been left in outer darkness; for -example, the Negroes of the South. Our utmost efforts—aided, in many -instances, by the shotgun, the bloodhound and the fagot-and-stake—have -given a faulty result, and many of these obdurate persons remain, as -the late Parson Brownlow would have said, “steeped to the nose and -chin in political profligacy,” voting the Republican ticket whenever -permitted. For four centuries we have hunted the Red Indian from cover -to cover, and he is not a very nice Red Indian yet, some of his vices -and superstitions differing widely from our own. The motorcarman, -shutting his eyes to the glory and advantage of enlightenment, still -urges his indocile apparatus along the line of least insistence; and -the organist from the overseas practices his black art at the street -corner, inaccessible to reclamation. A hundred urban tribes might be -named among civilization’s irreclaimables, without mentioning any of -the religious sects. At every turn the gentleman who is desirous of -making-over his faulty fellow-men encounters a baffling apathy or a -spirited hostility to change. - -Possibly the higher quadrumana may prove more pregnable to light and -reason—more willing to become as we. Perhaps when we can all talk -Monkey we shall be able to set forth the advantages of our happy -state more graphically than we have succeeded in doing in any of -the tongues—including our own—known to the wicked and stiff-necked -generations mentioned. In that sparkling speech we may, for -example, make it clear that a condition in which nine-tenths of the -reformed monkeys will live a life of toil and discomfort, holding -their subsistence by the most precarious tenure, is conspicuously -subserviceable to that chastened and humble frame of mind which is -so joyously different from the empty intellectual pride that comes -of pelting one another with cocoanuts and depending from branches -by prehensile tails. Perhaps in the pithecan vocabulary is such -copiousness that we can easily set forth the unspeakable profit of -living a long way from where we want to go at a considerable peril -to life and limb—which is what steam and electricity enable us to -do. We may reasonably hope to be able to convince the gorilla of the -futility of his habit of beating his breast and roaring when in the -presence of the enemy; the history of a few of our great battles, -carefully translated into his noble tongue, will make him first endure, -then pity, then embrace our more effective military methods, to the -unspeakable benefit of his heart and mind. Adequately civilized, the -gorilla will beat his enemy’s breast and let that creature do the -roaring. - -Certain advantages of urban life—an invention of civilization—ought to -be comparatively easy of exposition in an attractive way. The practice -of abolishing the hours of rest by means of lights and rattling -vehicles; of generating sewer-gas and conducting it into dwellings; -of loading the atmosphere with beautiful brown smoke and assorted -exhalations before taking it into the lungs; of drinking whisky, or -water from cow pastures; of eating animals that have been a long time -dead,—of all these and many other blessings of civilization the monkeys -can acquire knowledge, desire and, eventually, possession. Doubtless we -shall have some small difficulty in explaining the advantages of the -incaudate state (for civilization implies renunciation of the tail), -the comfortableness of the stiff hat and shirt collar (for civilization -entails clothing), the grace of the steel-pen coat, the beauty of the -skin-tight sleeve and the sanitary effect of the corset; but if the -monkey language, unlike that of the Houyhnhnms, supplies facilities -for “saying the thing that is not” we shall eventually convince our -arboreal pupils that black is not only white but a beautiful écru -green. - -The next step will naturally be the investing them with citizenship and -the right to vote according to the dictates of the bosses. When by that -investiture they have been duly instated in “the seats of power,” the -monkeys will form one of the most precious of our political elements, -though hardly distinguishable from some of the political elements -with which we are now blest. Their enfranchising will be no radical -innovation; it will merely make the political pile complete—though the -possible defection of the philosopher element in the near future may -somewhat mar the symmetry of the edifice until the gap can be stopped -by enfranchisement of dogs and horses. - -Even if all this is but the gorgeous dream of a too hopeful optimism, -it is nevertheless good to know that Professor Garner can understand -Monkey. If we fail to persuade the monkeys forward along the line of -progress to our advanced position it will be pleasant to have from them -an occasional word of cheer and welcome as we are led back to theirs. - - - - - THE SOCIALIST—WHAT HE IS, AND WHY - - -American socialism is not a political doctrine; it is a state of mind. -A man is an active socialist because he is afflicted with congenital -insurgency: he was born a rebel. He rebels, not only against “the -established order” in government, but against pretty nearly everything -that takes his attention and enlists his thought, though not many -things do. He is hospitable to only one idea at a time, in the service -of which he foregoes the advantage of knowing much of anything else. -He commonly, however, has an observing eye and a deep disesteem for -the decent customs and conventionalities of his time and place. The -man in jail for publication of immoralities is always a socialist, -and the socialist “organ” has usually a profitable “line” of indecent -advertisements. - -As the socialist erroneously regards the criminal, so he is himself -rightly to be regarded. He is no heretic to be reclaimed, but a -patient to be restrained. He is sick. You cannot cure him; it is -useless to say to him: “Thou ailest here and there”; it is useless -to say anything to him but “Thou shalt not.” His unreason is what he -is a socialist with. That, too, is the cause of his inefficiency in -the competitions of life, for which, naturally, he would substitute -something “more nearly to the heart’s desire”—an order of things -in which all would share the rewards of efficiency. Always it is -the incapable who most loudly preaches the gospel of Equality and -Fraternity—which, being interpreted, means stand and deliver and look -pleasant about it. In the Cave of Adullam the credentialing shibboleth -is “Love me, damn you, as I love myself.” - -A distinguishing feature of socialism as we have the happiness to -know it in this country is its servitude to anarchism. In theory -the two are directly antithetical. They are the North and the -South Pole of political thought, leagues and leagues removed from -zones of intellectual fertility. Anarchism says: “Ye shall have -no law”; socialism: “Law is all that ye shall have.” They “pool -their issues” and make common cause, but let them succeed in their -work of destruction and their warfare would not be accomplished: -there would remain the congenial task of destroying each other. The -present alliance is no figure of speech. It is a fact, unknown to the -follow-my-leader socialist, but not to his leader; not to observers -having acquaintance with the proselyting methods of the time; not at -the headquarters of anarchism in Paterson, New Jersey, where a great -body of socialist “literature” is written, printed and set going. -He who is not sufficiently “advanced” for anarchism is persuaded to -socialism. The babe is fed with malted milk until strong enough for the -double-distilled thunder-and-lightning of a more candid purveyance. -Whatever makes for discontent brings nearer the reign of reprisal. - -Our good friends who think with their tongues and pens are ever clamant -about the national perils alurk in luxury: it causes decay in men and -states, blights patriotism, invites invasion, impoverishes the paupers -and bites a dog. Luxury will make a boy strike his father (feebly) and -persuade the old man to a life of shame. It is well known that it so -enervated the Romans that they fell off the map. One does not need to -believe all that, nor any of it. The wealthy, living under sanitary -conditions, well housed, well fed, clean, free from fatigue (which is a -poison) are, as a class, distinctly superior to the poor, physically, -mentally and morally. It is among the well-to-do that gymnasia flourish -and athletic clubs abound. Your all-around athlete is commonly in -possession of a comfortable income; the hardy out-of-door sports are -practiced almost exclusively by those who do not have to do manual -labor. The top-hatted clubman can manhandle the hulking day-laborer -with ease and accuracy. His female is larger and fitter than the other -gentleman’s underfed and overworked mate, and brings forth a better -quality of young. All this is obvious to any but the most delinquent -observation; yet wealth and its attendant luxury are prophecies and -forerunners of the decay of nations. - - Hard are the steps, slow-hewn in flintiest rock, - States climb to power by; slippery those with gold - Down which they stumble to eternal mock. - -To one having knowledge of the prevalence and power of some of the -primal brute passions of the human mind the reason is clear enough: -riches and luxurious living provoke envy in the vast multitude to whom -they are inaccessible through lack of efficiency; and from envy to -revenge and revolution the transition is natural and easy. - -In the youth of a nation there is virtual equality of fortunes—all are -poor. Sixty years ago there were probably not a half dozen millionaires -in America; the number now is not definitely known, but it runs into -thousands; that of persons of less but considerable wealth—enough to -take attention—into the hundreds of thousands. Poverty used to be -rather proud of our millionaires; they were so few that the poor man -seldom or never saw them, to mark the contrast between their abundance -and his privation. Now the two are everywhere neighbors. The poor man -sees “the idle rich” (who mostly work like beavers) in their carriages, -while himself walks and, if it please him so to do, “takes their dust.” -He looks into the windows of ballrooms and erroneously believes that -the gorgeous creatures within are happier than he. If he happen to be -so intellectual as to be distinguished in letters, art or some other -profitless pursuit as to be sought by them, all the keener is his sense -of the difference; all the more humiliating his inability to suffer -their particular kind of disillusion. Partly because of that and -partly because he is not a thinker but a feeler, the poet, the artist -or the musician is almost invariably an audible socialist. True, some -of these “intellectuals” (they might better be called emotionals) are -themselves fairly thrifty and prosperous, and in the redistribution -of wealth which many of them impudently propose would be first to -experience the mischance of “restitution.” But doubtless they do not -expect their blessed “new order of things” to come in their day. -Meantime there are profit and a certain picturesqueness in “hailing the -dawn” of a better one, just as if it had already struck “the Sultan’s -tower with a shaft of light.” - -The socialist notion appears to be that the world’s wealth is a fixed -quantity, and A can acquire only by depriving B. He is fond of figuring -the rich as living upon the poor—riding on their backs, as Tolstoi -(staggering under the weight of his wife, to whom he had given his vast -estate) was pleased to signify the situation. The plain truth of the -matter is that the poor live mostly on the rich—entirely unless with -their own hands they dig a bare subsistence out of their own farms or -gravel claims; if they do better than that they are not poor. A man -may remain in poverty all his life and be not only of no advantage -to his fellow poor men, but by his competition in the labor market -a harm to them; for in the abundance of labor lies the cause of low -wages, as even a socialist knows. As a consumer the man counts for -little, for he consumes only the bare necessaries of life. But, if -he pass from poverty to wealth he not only ceases to be a competing -laborer; he becomes a consumer of everything that he used to want—all -the luxuries by production of which nine-tenths of the labor class live -he now buys. He has added his voice to the chorus of demand. All the -industries of the world are so interrelated and interdependent that -none is unaffected in some infinitesimal degree by the new stimulation. -The good that he has done by passing from one class into another is -not so obvious as it would be if his wants were all supplied by one -versatile producer, purveying to him alone, but the sum of it is the -same. Yet the socialist finds a pleasure in directing attention to the -brass hoofs of the millionaire executing his joyous jig upon an empty -stomach—that of the prostrate pauper,—poets, muckrakers, demagogues -and other audibles fitly celebrating the performance with howls of -sensibility. - -A socialist was damning the wicked extravagance of the rich. A -thoughtful person said: “In New York City was a wealthy family, -the Bradley Martins. They were driven out of the country by public -indignation because they spent their money with a free hand. In the -same city was a wealthy man named Russell Sage. He was no less reviled -and calumniated, because he spent as little as he could and lent the -rest. In which instance was our ‘fierce democracie’ wise and righteous?” - -The answer was prompt and, O, so copious! Before it ceased to flow that -philosopher was a mile away from the subject, lost in an impenetrable -forest of words. - -Of course Russell Sage was no less valuable an asset to the “wage -slave” than the Bradley Martins, for there is no way by which one can -get profit or pleasure out of money except by paying it out, either by -his own hand directly, or indirectly by the hand of another, for wages -to labor. Eventually, sooner or later, it all reaches the pocket of the -producer, the workingman. - -We have so good a country here that more than a million a year of -Europe’s poor come over to share its advantages. In the patent fact -that it is a land of opportunity and prosperity we feel a justifiable -pride; yet the crowning proof and natural result of this—the great -number that do prosper—“the multitude of millionaires”—has come to -be resented as an intolerable wrong, and he who is most clamorous -for opportunity (which he has never for a moment been without) -most austerely condemns those who have made the best use of it. An -instinctive antipathy to all in prosperity is the common ground -upon which anarchists and socialists stand to debate their several -interpretations of anarchism and socialism. On that rock they build -their church, and the gates of—the quotation is imperfectly applicable: -the gates are friendly and hospitable to denominationaries of their -faith. - -Another thing that these worthies have in common—and in common with -many unassorted sentimentaliters and effemininnies in this age of -unreason—is sympathy with crime. No avowed socialist but advocates a -rosewater penology that coddles the felon who has broken into prison to -enjoy a life of peace and plenty; none but would expel the warden and -flog the turnkey. All are proponents of the holy homily; all deny that -punishment deters from crime, although the discharged convict never -renews his offense until driven by hunger or again persuaded by his -poor brute brain that he can escape detection; he does not enter and -rob the first house that he comes to, nor murder the first enemy that -he meets. - -That there are honest, clean-minded patriotic socialists goes without -saying. They are theorists and dreamers with a knowledge of life and -affairs a little profounder than that of a horse but not quite so -profound as that of a cow. But the “movement” as a social and political -force is, in this country, born of envy, the true purpose of its -activities, revenge. In the shadow of our national prosperity it whets -its knife for the throats of the prosperous. It unleashes the hounds of -hate upon the track of success—the only kind of success that it covets -and derides. - -How bit and bridle this wild ass of civilization? How make the -socialist behave himself, as in Germany, or unmask himself, as in -France? It looks as if this cannot be done. It looks as if we may -eventually have to prevent the multiplication of millionaires by -setting a legal limit to private fortunes. By some such cowardly and -statesmanlike concession we may perhaps anticipate and forestall the -more drastic action of our political Apaches, incited by Envy, wrecker -of empires and assassin of civilization. Meantime, let us put poppies -in our hair and be Democrats and Republicans. - - 1910. - - - - - GEORGE THE MADE-OVER - - -The English have a distinctly higher and better opinion of Washington -than is held in this country. Washington, if he could have a choice -in the matter, would indubitably prefer his position in the minds of -educated Englishmen to the one that he holds “in the hearts of his -countrymen”—not the one that he is said to hold. The superior validity -of the English view is due to the better view-point. It is remote, as -the American will be when several more generations shall have passed -and Americans are devoid (as Englishmen are devoid now) of passions -and prejudices engendered in the heat of our “Revolution.” We should -remember that it was not to the English a revolution, but a small and -distant squabble, which cut no great figure in the larger affairs in -which they were engaged; and the very memory of it was nearly effaced -in that of the next generation by the stupendous events of the French -Revolution and the Napoleonic wars. To ears filled with the thunders -of Waterloo, the crepitating echoes of the spat at Bunker Hill were -inaudible. - -No benign personage in the calendar of secular saints is really less -loved than Washington. The romancing historians and biographers have -adorned him with a thousand impossible virtues, naturally, and in so -dehumanizing him have set him beyond and above the longest reach of -human sympathies. His character, as it pleased them to create it, -is like nothing that we know about and care for. He is a monster of -goodness and wisdom, with about as much of light and fire as the -snow Adam of the small boy playing at creation on the campus of a -public school. The Washington-making Frankensteins have done their -work so badly that their creature is an insupportable bore, diffusing -an infectious dejection. Try to fancy an historical novel or drama -with him for hero—a poem with him for subject! Possibly such have -been written; I do not recall any at the moment, and the proposition -is hardly thinkable. The ideal Washington is a soulless conception, -absolutely without power on the imagination. Within the area of his -gelid efflation the flowers of fancy open only to wither, and any -sentiment endeavoring to transgress the boundary of that desolate -domain falls frosted in its flight. - -Some one—Colonel Ingersoll, I fancy—has said that Washington is a steel -engraving. That is hardly an adequate conception, being derived from -the sense of sight only; the ear has something to say in the matter, -and there is much in a name. Before my studies of his character had -effaced my childish impression I used always to picture him in the act -of bending over a tub. - -There are two George Washingtons—the natural and the artificial. They -are now equally “great,” but the former was choke-full of the old Adam. -He swore like “our army in Flanders,” loved a bottle like a brother -and had an inter-colonial reputation as a lady-killer. He was, indeed, -a singularly interesting and magnetic old boy—one whom any sane and -honest lover of the picturesque in life and character would deem it -an honor and an education to have known in the flesh. He is now known -to but few; you must dig pretty deeply into the tumulus of rubbishy -panegyric—scan pretty closely the inedited annals of his time, in order -to see him as he was. Criss-crossed upon these failing parchments of -the past are the lines of the sleek Philistine, the smug patriot -and the lessoning moraler, making a palimpsest whereof all that is -legible is false and all that is honest is blotted out. The detestable -anthropolater of the biographical gift has pushed his glowing pen -across the page, to the unspeakable darkening of counsel. In short, -Washington’s countrymen see him through a glass dirtily. The image is -unlovely and unloved. You can no more love and revere the memory of the -biographical George Washington than you can an isosceles triangle or a -cubic foot of interstellar space. - -The portrait-painters began it—Gilbert Stuart and the rest of them. -They idealized all the humanity out of the poor patriot’s face and -passed him down to the engravers as a rather sleepy-looking butcher’s -block. There is not a portrait of Washington extant which a man of -taste and knowledge would suffer to hang on the wall of his stable. -Then the historians jumped in, raping all the laurels from the brows of -the man’s great contemporaries and piling them in confusion upon his -pate. They made him a god in wisdom, and a giant in arms; whereas, in -point of ability and service, he was but little, if at all, superior to -any one of a half-dozen of his now over-shadowed but once illustrious -co-workers in council and camp, and in no way comparable with Hamilton. -He towers above his fellows because he stands upon a pile of books. - -The supreme indignity to the memory of this really worthy man has been -performed by the Sunday-scholiasts, the pietaries, the truly good, the -example-to-American-youth folk. These canting creatures have managed to -nake him of his last remaining rag of flesh and drain out his ultimate -red corpuscle of human blood. In order that he may be acceptable to -themselves they have made him a bore to everyone else. To give him -value as an “example” to the unripe intelligences of their following -they have whitewashed him an inch thick, draped him, fig-leafed him -and gilded him out of all semblance to man. To prepare his character -for the juvenile moral tooth they have boned it, and to make it -digestible to the juvenile moral paunch, unsalted it by maceration in -the milk-and-water of their own minds. And so we have him to-day. In a -single century the great-hearted gentleman of history has become the -good boy of literature—the public prig. Washington is the capon of our -barnyard Pantheon—revised and edited for the table. - - - - - JOHN SMITH’S ANCESTORS - - -Reader mine, wisest of mortals that you are, do you feel sure that -you know how to deal with a proposition, which is at the same time -unquestionable and impossible—which must be true, yet can not be true? -Do you know just what degree of intellectual hospitality to give to -such a proposition—whether to receive and entertain it (and if so -how) or cast it from you, and how to do that? Possibly you were never -consciously at bay before a proposition of that kind, and therefore -lack the advantage of skill in its disposal. Attend, then, O child of -mortality—consider and be wise: - -You have, or have had, two parents—whom God prosper if they live and -rest if dead. Each of them had two parents; in other words, you had at -some time and somewhere four grandparents, and right worthy persons -they were, I’ll be sworn, albeit you may not be able to name them -without stopping to take thought. Of great-grandparents you surely -had no fewer than eight—that is to say, no further away than three -generations your ancestors numbered eight persons, now in heaven. -In countries which are pleased to call themselves civilized and -enlightened “a generation” means about thirty-four years. Not long ago -it meant thirty-three, but improved methods of distribution, sanitation -and so forth have added a year to the average duration of human life, -though they have not pointed out any profitable use to make of the -addition. All this amounts to saying (acceptably, I trust) that at each -remove of thirty-four years back toward Adam and his time you double -the number of your ancestors. Among so many some, naturally, were truly -modest persons, and I don’t know that you would care to have so much -said about them as I shall have to say; so, if you please, we will -speak of Mr. John Smith’s instead. - -John Smith, then, whom I know very well, and greatly esteem, and who is -approaching middle age, had, about 34 years ago, two ancestors. About -102 years ago, say in the year of grace 1792, he had eight—though he -did not have himself. You can do the rest of the figuring yourself -if you care to go on and are unwilling to take my word for what -follows—the astonishing state of things which I am about to thrust -upon your attention. Just keep doubling the number of John Smith’s -ancestors until you get the number 1,073,741,824. Now when do you -suppose it was that Mr. Smith had that number of living ancestors? -Make your calculation, allowing 34 years for each time that you have -multiplied by two, and you will find that it was about the year 879. -It seems a rather modern date and a goodish number of persons to be -concerning themselves, however unconsciously, in the begetting of -Neighbor John, but that is not “where it hurts.” The point is that -the number of his ancestors, so far as we have gone, is about the -number of the earth’s inhabitants at that date—little and big; white, -black, brown, yellow and blue; males, females and girls. I do not -care to point out Mr. Smith’s presumption in professing himself an -Anglo-Saxon—with all that mixed blood in the veins of him; perhaps he -has never made this calculation and does not know from just what stock -he has the honor to have descended, though truly this distinguished -scion of an illustrious race might seem to be justified in calling -himself a Son of Earth. - -But is he not more than that? In the generation immediately preceding -the one under consideration the number of the gentleman’s ancestors -must have been twice as great, namely, 2,147,483,648—more than two -thousand millions, or some five hundred millions more than Earth is -infested with even now. Where did all those people live?—in Mars? And -to what political or other causes was due the migration to Earth, _en -masse_, of their sons and daughters in the next generation? - -Does the reader care to follow up Mr. Smith’s long illustrious line -any further—back to the wee, sma’ years of the Christian era, for -example? Well and good, but I warn him that geometrical progression, -as he has already observed, “counts up.” Long before his calculations -have reached back to the first merry Christmas he will find Mr. Smith’s -ancestors—if they were really all terrestrial in their habits—piled -many-deep over the entire surface of all the continents, islands and -ice-floes of this distracted globe. A decent respect for the religious -convictions of my countrymen forbids me even to hint at what the -calculation would show if carried back to the time of Adam and Eve. - -It will perhaps be observed that I have left out of consideration the -circumstance that John Smith (my particular John) is not the sole -living inhabitant of Earth to-day: there are others, though mostly of -the same name, whose ancestors would somewhat swell the totals. In -mercy to the reader I have ignored them, one man being sufficient for -my purpose. - -Must not John Smith have had all those ancestors? Certainly. Could -all those ancestors of John Smith have existed? Certainly not. Have I -not, therefore, as I promised to do, conducted the reader against “a -proposition which is at the same time unquestionable and impossible”—a -statement “which must be true, yet can not be true”? According to the -best of my belief he is there. And there I leave him. Any gentleman not -content to remain there with his face to the wall is at liberty to go -over it or through it if he can. Doubtless the world will be delighted -to hear him expose the fallacy of my reasoning and the falsehood of my -figures. And I shall be pleased myself. - - 1894. - - - - - THE MOON IN LETTERS - - -For some months my friends had been benumbing the membranes of my two -ears with praises of the then newest literary pet, who exulted in a -name disagreeably suggestive of Death on a Pale Horse, Mr. H. Rider -Haggard, and I meekly assented to his greatness. They had insisted that -I read him, but this monstrous demand I had hitherto had the strength -to resist. But we all have our moments of weakness, so I squandered -twenty-five cents on the “Seaside” edition of the great man’s greatest -work, _King Solomon’s Mines_. On page 84 I found something that -interested me, something astronomical, showing how keenly the famous -author observes the commonest phenomena of nature. Turning down a leaf -and bearing the matter in mind, I read on. At page 97 I turned down -another leaf, and at page 112 a third. On these three pages are related -astronomical events occurring in Africa on the evening of June 2, the -evening of June 3, and at about midday June 4, respectively. Let us -summarize them by quotation: June 2 (p. 84): “The sun sunk and the -world was wreathed in shadows. But not for long, for see, in the east -there is a glow, then a bent edge of silver light, and at last the full -bow of the crescent moon peeps above the plain.” - -June 3 (p. 97): “About 10 the full moon came up in splendor.” - -June 4 (p. 112): “I glanced up at the sun and to my intense joy saw -that we had made no mistake. On the edge of its brilliant surface was a -faint rim of shadow.” Which grows to a total eclipse. - -What else ensues I am unable to say. A writer who believes that the new -moon can rise in the east soon after sunset and the full moon at 10 -o’clock; who thinks the second of these remarkable phenomena can occur -twenty-four hours after the first, and itself be followed some fourteen -hours later by an eclipse of the sun—such a man may be a gifted writer, -but I am not a gifted reader. I wash my mind of him, and sentence him -to the good opinion of his admirers. - -Another sinner on my list of authors ignorant in respect of the moon’s -movements and phases is William Black. In the third chapter of his -_Princess of Thule_ is the following sentence: “Was Sheila about -to sing in this clear strange twilight while they sat there and watched -the yellow moon come up behind the Southern hills?” The spectacle -of the moon rising in the south is one which Heaven has denied to -all except the characters in Black’s novels. It is not surprising -that Sheila “was about to sing”: she must have felt something of the -exultation which swells the bosom of that favored child of Destiny, the -small boy who has crept in under the canvas when the menagerie people -are painting the tiger. - -It may be borne in mind that Black’s south-rising moon came up during -the twilight—that is to say, shortly after sunset. It would be, -therefore, nearly “half-full” to the eye of the terrestrial observer; -but referring to a later hour of the same evening Black says: “There -into the beautiful dome rose the golden _crescent_ of the moon, -warm in color as though it still retained the last rays of the sunset.” -Concerning the last clause of this astonishing sentence it may be asked -from what source Black supposed the moon’s light to be derived, or if -he regarded her as self-luminous. The truth probably is that he had no -definite ideas about the matter at all. He was in the same comfortable -mental state as the worthy countryman who, being asked what he thought -of total depravity, promptly replied that if it was in the Bible he was -in favor of it. - -In dismissing Black I can not forbear to add that even if the moon -could rise in the south; even if rising in the south it should continue -rising into the dome when it should be setting; even if rising in -the south soon after sunset a half-moon, as it would necessarily be, -and continuing to rise into the dome when it should be setting, it -could dwindle to a crescent, it could not be of a warm color. The -crescent moon is as cold in color as a new dime—almost as cold as a -quarter-dollar. In a bench-show of astronomers I doubt if Black would -have been awarded a blue ribbon. - -I have been reading a story by Mr. Edgar Saltus: “A Maid of Athens”—a -story which, like a forgotten candle, burns on well enough to the end -and then dies in its own grease. But that is not the point; I find this -passage: - -“Beneath descending night, the sky was gold-barred and green. In the -east the moon glittered like a sickle of tin.” - -I shall have to add Mr. Saltus to my company of authors with private -systems of astronomy. The imagination robust enough to conceive a -crescent moon in the east at nightfall might even claim a place in a -dime museum. - -Spielhagan has his full moon on the horizon at midnight by the castle -clock. - -But the novelists are not alone in their ignorance of what is before -their eyes all their blessed lives: the poets know no more than they. -In her _Songs of the Night-Watches_ Jean Ingelow compels “a -slender moon” to “float up from behind” a person looking at the sunset -sky, and afterward makes the full moon “behind some ruined roof swim -up” at daybreak. To rout out the moon so early and make it get up, when -it must have been up all night attending to its duty as a full moon of -orderly habits, is a trifle heartless. In “Daylight and Moonlight,” -Longfellow, who seems imperfectly to have known how the latter was -produced, tells of a time when at midday he saw the moon - - Sailing high, but faint and white - As a schoolboy’s paper kite. - -Now if it was sailing high at noon it must have been, as seen from -earth, nearly on a line with the sun—that is to say, but little more -than “new”—that is to say, invisible in the daytime. But that is not -the worst of this business. A new moon is not only invisible at noon, -but sets soon after sunset, and would give but little light if it did -not. Yet this unearthly observer after relating how night came on adds: - - Then the moon, in all her pride, - Like a spirit glorified, - Filled and overflowed the night - With revelations of her light. - -It is mournful to think that this popular poet lived out his long -serene life without anybody suspecting his condition, nor offering him -the comforts of an asylum. - -I have found similar blunders in the poems of Wordsworth, Coleridge, -Schiller, Moore, Shelley, Tennyson and Bayard Taylor. Of course a poet -is entitled to any kind of universe that may best suit his purpose, and -if he could give us better poetry by making the moon rise “full-orbed” -in the northwest and set like a “tin sickle” in the zenith I should -go in for letting him have his fling. But I do not discern any gain -in “sweetness and light” from these despotic readjustments of the -relations among sun, earth and moon, and must set it all down to the -account of ignorance, which, in any degree and however excusable, is -not a thing to be admired. Concerning nothing is it more general, more -deep, more dark, more invincible, nor withal, more needless, than it is -with regard to movements and visible aspects of our satellite. How one -can have eyes and not know the pranks of the several heavenly bodies -is possibly obvious to Omniscience, but a finite mind cannot rightly -understand it. - -We will suppose that our planet is without a satellite. The nights -are brilliant or starless, as the clouds may determine, but in all -the measureless reaches of space is no world having a visible disk, -with vicissitudes of light and shadow. One day a famous man of science -announces in the public prints a startling discovery. He has found an -orb, smaller than the earth but of considerable magnitude, moving in -such a direction and at such a rate of speed that at a stated time the -next year it will have approached our sphere so closely as to be caught -by its attractive power and held, a prisoner, wheeling round and round -in a vain endeavor to escape. He goes on to explain that the invisible -tether will be, astronomically speaking, but a stone’s throw in length: -the captive world will have in fact the astonishing propinquity of -only a quarter of a million miles! We shall be able to see, even with -unassisted eyes, the very mountains and valleys upon its surface, -while a glass of moderate power will show, not only these mountains -(many times higher than those of our own orb) with perfect definition, -their long black shadows projected upon the plains, but will reveal -the details of extinct craters wide enough to engulf a terrestrial -province, and how deep Heaven knows. Upon this strange new world, the -great man goes on to say, we shall be able to observe the mutations of -its day and night, tracing the lines of its dawn and sunset exactly as, -if we were there, we could observe the more rapid changes upon the body -of our own planet; and surely it would be worth something to stand away -from our spinning orb and take in all its visible vicissitudes in one -comprehensive view. - -It is easy to see the effect of such an announcement, verified by -the apparition of the orb at the calculated place and time. All the -civilized nations would be in a ferment. The newspapers would be full -of the subject. Journalism would be conducted by the astronomers and -nothing but the coming orb would be talked of; many would go mad from -excitement. And when the celestial monster, moving aimless through -space, should swim into the earth’s attraction and go whirling in -its new orbit how we should study it, attentive to its every visible -aspect, alertly sensible to its changes and profoundly moved by the -desolate sublimity of its stupendous scenery. For a half of every lunar -month the churches, lyceums, theaters—all the places of instruction or -amusement where people now assemble by artificial light would close -at sunset and the whole population would take to the hills. Colleges, -societies and clubs would be founded for the new knowledge; every human -being, with opportunity and capacity, would become a specialist in -selenography and selenology—a lunar expert, devoted to his science. -Not to know all about the moon would be considered as discreditable as -illiteracy is considered now. Well, the moon we have always with us, -and not one man in a thousand nor one author in a hundred knows any -more about it than that it is frequently invisible and commonly not -round. On other subjects there is less ignorance: at least three in a -thousand know that the stars are not the same as the planets, though -two of the three are unable to say what is a planet and what is a star. - -That immortal ass, “the average man,” sees with nothing but his eyes. -To him a planet or a star is only a point of light—a bright dot, a -golden fly-speck on “the sky.” He does not see it as a prodigious globe -swimming through the unthinkable depths of space. With only the heavens -for company the poor devil is bored. When out alone on a clear night -he wants to get himself home to his female and young and—unfailing -expedient of intellectual vacuity—go to bed. The glories and splendors -of the firmament are no more to him than a primrose was to Peter Bell. -Let us leave him snoring pigly in his blankets and turn to other -themes, not forgetting that he is our lawful ruler, nor permitted to -forget the insupportable effects of his ferocious rule. - - 1903. - - - - - COLUMBUS - - -The human mind is affected with a singular disability to get a sense -of an historical event without a gigantic figure in the foreground -overtopping all his fellows. As surely as God liveth, if one hundred -congenital idiots were set adrift in a scow to get rid of them, and, -borne by favoring currents into eyeshot of an unknown continent, should -simultaneously shout, “Land ho!” instantly drowning in their own drool, -we should have one of them figuring in history ever thereafter with a -growing glory as an illustrious discoverer of his time. I do not say -that Columbus was a navigator and discoverer of that kind, nor that he -did anything of that kind in that way; the parallel is perfect only -in what history has done to Columbus; and some seventy millions of -Americans are authenticating the imposture all they know how. In this -whole black business hardly one element of falsehood is lacking. - -Columbus was not a learned man, but an ignorant. He was not an -honorable man, but a professional pirate. He was, in the most hateful -sense of the word, an adventurer. His voyage was undertaken with a -view solely to his own advantage, the gratification of an incredible -avarice. In the lust of gold he committed deeds of cruelty, treachery -and oppression for which no fitting names are found in the vocabulary -of any modern tongue. To the harmless and hospitable peoples among whom -he came he was a terror and a curse. He tortured them, he murdered -them, he sent them over the sea as slaves. So monstrous were his -crimes, so conscienceless his ambition, so insatiable his greed, so -black his treachery to his sovereign, that in his mere imprisonment and -disgrace we have a notable instance of “the miscarriage of justice.” -In the black abysm of this man’s character we may pile falsehood upon -falsehood, but we shall never build the monument high enough to top -the shadow of his shame. Upon the culm and crown of that reverend pile -every angel will still look down and weep. - -We are told that Columbus was no worse than the men of his race and -generation—that his vices were “those of his time.” No vices are -peculiar to any time; this world has been vicious from the dawn of -history, and every race has reeked with sin. To say of a man that he -is like his contemporaries is to say that he is a scoundrel without -excuse. The virtues are accessible to all. Athens was vicious, yet -Socrates was virtuous. Rome was corrupt, but Marcus Aurelius was not -corrupt. To offset Nero the gods gave Seneca. When literary France -groveled at the feet of the third Napoleon Hugo stood erect. - -It will be a dark day for the world when infractions of the moral law -by A and B are accepted as justification of the sins of C. But even in -the days of Columbus men were not all pirates; God inspired enough of -them to be merchants to serve as prey for the others; and while turning -his honest penny by plundering them, the great Christopher was worsted -by a Venetian trading galley and had to pickle his pelt in a six-mile -swim to the Portuguese coast, a wiser and a wetter thief. If he had -had the hard luck to drown we might none of us have been Americans, -but the gods would have missed the revolting spectacle of an entire -people prostrate before the blood-beslubbered image of a moral idiot, -performing solemn rites of adoration with a litany of lies. - -In comparison with the crimes of Columbus his follies cut a sorry -figure. Yet the foolhardy enterprise to whose failure he owes his fame -is entitled to distinction. With sense enough to understand the earth’s -spheroid form (he thought it pear-shaped) but without knowledge of its -size, he believed that he could reach India by sailing westward and -died in the delusion that he had done so—a trifling miscalculation—a -matter of eight or ten thousands of miles. If this continent had -not happened to lie right across his way he and his merry men would -all have gone fishing, with themselves for bait and the devil a -hook among them. Firmness is persistence in the right; obstinacy is -persistence in the wrong. With the light that he had, Columbus was -so wildly, dismally and fantastically wrong that his refusal to turn -back was nothing less than pig-headed unreason, and his crews would -have been abundantly justified in deposing him. The wisdom of an -act is not to be determined by the outcome, but by the performer’s -reasonable expectation of success. And after all, the expedition failed -lamentably. It accomplished no part of its purpose, but by a happy -chance it accomplished something better—for us. As to the red Indians, -such of them as have been good enough to assist in apotheosis of the -man whom their ancestors had the deep misfortune to discover may justly -boast themselves the most magnanimous of mammals. - -And when all is conceded there remains the affronting falsehood that -Columbus discovered America. Surely in all these drunken orgies of -beatification—in all this carnival of lies there should be found -some small place for Lief Ericsson and his wholesome Northmen, who -discovered, colonized and abandoned this continent five hundred -years before, and of whom we are forbidden to think as corsairs and -slave-catchers. The eulogist is always a calumniator. The crown that -he sets upon the unworthy head he first tears from the head that is -worthy. So the honest fame of Lief Ericsson is cast as rubbish to the -void, and the Genoese pirate is pedestaled in his place. - -But falsehood and ingratitude are sins against Nature, and Nature is -not to be trifled with. Already we feel, or ought to feel, the smart of -her lash. Our follies are finding us out. Our Columbian Exhibition has -for its chief exhibit our national stupidity, and displays our shame. -Our Congress “improves the occasion” to make a disgraceful surrender -to the Chadbands and Stigginses of churches by a bitter observance of -the Sabbath. Managers of the show steal the first one thousand dollars -that come into their hands by bestowing them upon a schoolgirl related -to one of themselves, for a “Commemoration Ode” as long as the language -and as foolish as its grammar—the ragged, tagless and bobtailed yellow -dog of commemoration odes. And _this_ while Whittier lived to -suffer the insult, and Holmes to resent it. What further exhibits -of our national stupidity and lack of moral sense space has been -engaged for in the world’s contempt one can only conjecture. In the -meantime state appropriations are being looted, art is in process of -caricature, literature is debauched, and we have a Columbian Bureau -of Investigation and Suppression with a daily mail as voluminous as -that of a commercial city. If at the finish of this revealing revelry -self-respecting Americans shall not have lost through excessive use the -power to blush, and all Europe the ability to laugh, another Darwin -should write another book on the expression of the emotions in men and -animals. - -That nothing might be lacking to the absurdity of the scheme, the -falsehood marking all the methods of its execution, we must needs avail -ourselves of an alteration in the calendar and have two anniversary -celebrations of one event. And in culmination of this comedy of -falsehood, the later date must formally open, with dedicatory rites, an -exhibition which will not be open for six months. One falsehood begets -another and another in the line of succession, until the father of them -all shall have colonized his whole progeny upon the congenial soil of -this new Dark Continent. - -Why should not the four-hundredth anniversary of the rediscovery -of America have been made memorable by fitly celebrating it with a -becoming sense of the stupendous importance of the event, without -thrusting into the forefront of the rites the dismal personality of -the very small man who made the find? Could not the most prosperous -and vain people of the earth see anything to celebrate in the four -centuries between San Salvador and Chicago but it must sophisticate -history by picking that offensive creature out of his shame to make him -a central, dominating figure of the festival? Thank Heaven, there is -one thing that all the genius of the anthropolaters can not do. Quarrel -as we may about the relative claims to authenticity of portraits -painted from description, we can not perpetuate the rogue’s visible -appearance “in his habit as he lived.” Audible to the ear of the -understanding fall with unceasing iteration from the lips of his every -statue in every land the words, “I am a lie!” - - 1892. - - - - - THE RELIGION OF THE TABLE - - -When the starving peasantry of France were bearing with inimitable -fortitude their great bereavement in the death of Louis le Grand, -how cheerfully they must have bowed their necks to the easy yoke of -Philip of Orleans, who set them an example in eating which he had not -the slightest objection to their following. A monarch skilled in the -mysteries of the cuisine must wield the scepter all the more gently -for his schooling in handling the ladle. In royalty, the delicate -manipulation of an omelette soufflé is at once an evidence of genius, -and an assurance of a tender forbearance in state policy. All good -rulers have been good livers, and if most bad ones have been the same -this merely proves that even the worst of men have still something -divine in them. - -There is more in a good dinner than is disclosed by removal of the -covers. Where the eye of hunger perceives only a juicy roast that -of faith detects a smoking god. A well cooked joint is redolent of -religion, and a delicate pasty crisp with charity. The man who can -light his after-dinner Havana without feeling full to the neck with -all the cardinal virtues is either steeped in iniquity or has dined -badly. In either case he is no true man. It is here held that it is -morally impossible for a man to dine daily upon the fat of the land in -courses and yet deny a future state of existence beatific with beef and -ecstatic with all edibles. A falsity of history is that of Heliogabalus -dining on nightingales’ tongues. No true gourmet would ever send a -nightingale to the shambles so long as scarcer, and therefore, better -songsters might be obtained. - -It is a fine natural instinct that teaches the hungry and cadaverous to -avoid the temples of religion, and a shortsighted and misdirected zeal -that would gather them into it. Religion is for the oleaginous, the -fat-bellied, chyle-saturated devotees of the table. Unless the stomach -be lined with good things, the parson may say as many as he can and his -truths shall not be swallowed nor his wisdom inly digested. Probably -the highest, ripest, and most acceptable form of worship is performed -with a knife and fork; and whosoever on the resurrection morning can -produce from amongst the lumber of his cast-off flesh a thin-coated -and elastic stomach showing evidences of daily stretchings done in the -body will find it his readiest passport and best credential. Surely God -will not hold him guiltless who eats with his knife, but if the deadly -steel be always well laden with toothsome morsels divine justice will -be tempered with mercy to that man’s soul. When the author of _The -Lost Tales of Miletus_ represented Sisyphus as capturing his guest, -the King of Terrors, and stuffing the old glutton with meat and drink -until he became “a jolly, rubicund, tun-bellied Death,” he gave us a -tale that needs no “_hæc fabula docet_” to point out the moral. - -I verily believe that Shakspeare writ down Fat Jack at his last gasp, -as babbling, not o’ green fields, but o’ green turtle, and that -starveling, Colley Cibber, altered the text from sheer envy of a good -man’s death. To die well we must live well, is a familiar platitude. -Morality is, of course, best promoted by the good quality of our fare, -but quantitative excellence is by no means to be despised. _Cæteris -paribus_, the man who eats much is a better Christian than the man -who eats little; and he who eats little will live more godly than he -who eats nothing. - - - - - REVISION DOWNWARD - - -The big man’s belief in himself is not surprising, and in respect of -a trial of muscular strength it is well founded, but the preference -of all nations, their parliaments and people, for tall soldiers is a -“survival,” an inherited faith held without examination. Men in battle -no longer come into actual personal contact with their enemies in such -a way that superior weight and strength are advantageous; and superior -size is a disadvantage, for it means a larger mark for bullets. - -In our civil war the big men were soonest invalided and sent home. They -soonest gave in to the fatigues of campaign and charge. The little -fellows, more “wiry” and enduring were the better material. I am -compelled to affirm this from personal observation, knowing no other -authority, though for so obvious a fact other authority must exist. -Incidentally, I may explain that I am nearly six feet long. - -What is true of men is true of horses. Strength, which implies size, is -necessary in the horse militant, particularly in the artillery; but it -is got at the expense of agility and endurance. The “toughest” American -horse is the little Western “cayuse,” the “Indian pony” of our early -literature. - -This matter of so-called “degeneration” in the stature of men and -animals has a more than military interest. It is not without meaning -that all peoples have traditions of giants, and that all literatures -are full of references to a remote ancestry of superior size and -strength. Even Homer tells of his heroes before the walls of Troy -hurling at one another such stones as ten strong men of his degenerate -day could not have lifted from the earth. - -The kernel of truth in all this is that the human race is actually -decreasing in size. But this is not “degeneration.” It is improvement. -Where are the megatherium, the dinosaurus, the mammoth and the -mastodon? Where is the pterodactyl? What has happened to the moa and -the other gigantic bird whose name I do not at this moment recall—maybe -the epiornis? Condemned and executed by Nature for unfitness in the -struggle for existence. The elephant, the hippopotamus and the -rhinoceros are traveling the same road to extinction, and the late -American bison could show them the way. - -What is the disadvantage of bulk in animals? Feebleness. For an animal -twice as heavy as another of the same species to have the same activity -it would have to be not twice as strong, but four times as strong; and -for some reason to this deponent unknown, Nature does not make it so. -If four times as large, it would need to be sixteen times as strong. - -Observe the large birds; the little ones, the swallows and “hummers,” -can fly circles around them. The biggest of them can not fly at all -and their wings, from disuse, are vestigial. Many insects can fly, not -only proportionately faster and farther than even the humming-bird, -but actually. Is there, possibly, a lesson in this for the ingenious -gentlemen who expect the freight and passenger business of the future -to be done in the air? - -We are all familiar with the fact that if a man were as strong and -agile in proportion as a flea he could leap several miles; one can -figure out the exact number for oneself. If as strong as an ant he -could shoulder and lug away a six-inch rifle and its carriage. -Doubtless in the course of evolution (if evolution is permanent) man -(if man is spared) will have the ant’s strength—and the ant’s size. - -Considering the advantages that the smaller insects and animalculæ -have in the struggle for existence and the wonderful powers and -capacities it must have developed in them—which we know, indeed, from -such observers as Sir John Lubbock it actually has developed in the -ant—I can see no reason to doubt that some of them have attained a high -degree of civilization and enlightenment. - -To this view it may be said in objection that we, not they, are masters -of the world. That has nothing to do with it; to insect civilization -dominion may not be at all desirable. But are we masters? Wait till we -have subdued the red flea and the house-fly; then, as we lay off our -armor, we may more becomingly boast. - - 1903. - - - - - THE ART OF CONTROVERSY - - - I - -One who has not lived a life of controversy, yet has some knowledge of -its laws and methods, would, I think, find a difficulty in conceiving -the infantile ignorance of the race in general as to what constitutes -argument, evidence and proof. Even lawyers and judges, whose profession -it is to consider evidence, to sift it and pass upon it, are but little -wiser in that way than others when the matter in hand is philosophy, -or religion, or something outside the written law. Concerning these -high themes, I have heard from the lips of hoary benchers so idiotic -argument based on so meaningless evidence as made me shudder at the -thought of being tried before them on an indictment charging me with -having swallowed a neighbor’s step-ladder. Yet doubtless in a matter -of mere law these venerable babes would deliver judgment that would be -roughly reasonable and approximately right. The theologian, on the -contrary, is never so irrational as in his own trade; for, whatever -religion may be, theology is a thing of unreason altogether, an edifice -of assumptions and dreams, a superstructure without a substructure, an -invention of the devil. It is to religion what law is to justice, what -etiquette is to courtesy, astrology to astronomy, alchemy to chemistry -and medicine to hygiene. The theologian can not reason, for persons who -can reason do not go in for theology. Its name refutes it: theology -means discourse of God, concerning whom some of its expounders say that -he has no existence and all the others that he can not be known. - -I set out to show the folly of men who think they think—to give a few -typical examples of what they are pleased to call “evidence” supporting -their views. I shall take them from the work of a man of far more than -the average intelligence dealing with the doctrine of immortality. He -is a believer and thinks it possible that immortal human souls are on -an endless journey from star to star, inhabiting them in turn. And he -“proves” it thus: - -“No one thinks of space without knowing that it can be traversed; -consequently the conception of space implies the ability to traverse -it.” - -But how far? He could as cogently say: “No one thinks of the ocean -without knowing that it can be swum in; consequently the conception of -ocean implies the ability to swim from New York to Liverpool.” Here is -another precious bit of testimony: - -“The fact that man can conceive the idea of space without beginning or -end implies that man is on a journey without beginning or end. In fact, -it is strong evidence of the immortality of man.” - -Good—now observe the possibilities in that kind of “reasoning”: The -fact that a pig can conceive the idea of a turnip implies that the pig -is climbing a tree bearing turnips—which is strong evidence that the -pig is a fish. In each of the gentleman’s _dicta_ the first part -no more “implies” what follows than it implies a weeping baboon on a -crimson iceberg. - -Of the same unearthly sort are two more of this innocent’s deliveries: - -“The fact that we do not remember our former lives is no proof of our -never having existed. We would remember them if we had accomplished -something worth remembering.” - -Note the unconscious _petitio principii_ involved in the first -“our” and the pure assumption in the second sentence. - -“We all know that character, traits and habits are as distinct in young -children as in adults. This shows that if we had no pre-existence all -men would have the same character and traits and appearance, and would -be turned out on the same model.” - -As apples are, for example, or pebbles, or cats. Unfortunately we do -not “all” know, nor does any of us know, nor is it true, that young -children have as much individuality as adults. And if we did all know -it, or if any of us knew it, or if it were true, neither the fact -itself nor the knowledge of it would “show” any such thing as that the -differences could be produced by pre-existence only. They might be due -to the will of God, or to some agency that no man has ever thought -about, or has thought about but has not known to have that effect. -In point of fact, we know that such peculiarities of character and -disposition as a young child has are not brought from a former life -across a gulf whose brinks are death and birth, but are endowments from -the lives of others here. They are not individual, but hereditary—not -vestigial, but ancestral. - -The kind of “argument” here illustrated by horrible example is not -peculiar to religious nor doctrinal themes, but characterizes men’s -reasoning in general. It is the rule everywhere—in oral discussion, -in books, in newspapers. Assertions that mean nothing, testimony that -is not evidence, facts having no relation to the matter in hand, -and (everywhere and always) the sickening _non sequitur_: the -conclusion that has nothing to do with the premises. I know not if -there is another life, but if there is I do hope that to obtain it all -will have to pass a rigid examination in logic and the art of not being -a fool. - - - II - -In an unfriendly controversy it is important to remember that the -public, in most cases, neither cares for the outcome of the fray, nor -will remember its incidents. The controversialist should therefore -confine his efforts and powers to accomplishment of two main purposes: -1—entertainment of the reader: 2—personal gratification. For the first -of these objects no rules can be given; the good writer will entertain -and the bad one will not, no matter what is the subject. The second is -accomplishable (a) by guarding your self-respect; (b) by destroying -your adversary’s self-respect; (c) by making him respect you, against -his will, as much as you respect yourself; (d) by provoking him into -the blunder of permitting you to despise him. It follows that any -falsification, prevarication, dodging, misrepresentation or other -cheating on the part of one antagonist is a distinct advantage to the -other, and by him devoutly to be wished. The public cares nothing for -it, and if deceived will forget the deception; but _he_ never -forgets. I would no more willingly let my opponent find a flaw in my -truth, honesty and frankness than in fencing I would let him beat down -my guard. Of that part of victory which consists in respecting yourself -and making your adversary respect you you can be always sure if you -are worthy of respect; of that part which consists in despising him -and making him despise himself you are not sure; that depends on his -skill. He may be a very despicable person yet so cunning of fence—that -is to say, so frank and honest in writing—that you will not find out -his unworth. Remember that what you want is not so much to disclose -his meanness to the reader (who cares nothing about it) as to make him -disclose it to your private discernment. That is the whole gospel of -controversial strategy. - -You are one of two gladiators in the arena: your first duty is to amuse -the multitude. But as the multitude is not going to remember very long -after leaving the show who was victorious, it is not worth while to -take any hurts for a merely visible advantage. So fight as to prove to -yourself and to your adversary that you are the abler swordsman—that -is, the more honorable man. Victory in that is important, for it is -lasting, and is enjoyed ever afterward when you see or think of the -vanquished. If in the battle I get a foul stroke, that is a distinct -gain, for I never by any possibility forget that the man who delivered -it is a foul man. That is what I wanted to think him, and the very -thing which he should most strenuously have striven to prevent my -knowing. I may meet him in the street, at the club, any place where I -can not help it; under whatever circumstances he becomes present to my -consciousness I find a fresh delight in recalling my moral superiority -and in despising him anew. Is it not strange, then, that ninety-nine -disputants in a hundred deliberately and in cold blood concede to -their antagonists this supreme and decisive advantage in pursuit of one -which is merely illusory? Their faults are, first, of course, lack of -character; second, lack of sense. They are like an enraged mob engaged -in hostilities without having taken the trouble to know something of -the art of war. Happily for them, if they are defeated they do not know -it: they have not even the sense to ascribe their sufferings to their -wounds. - - 1899. - - - - - IN THE INFANCY OF “TRUSTS” - - -The battle against the “trusts” is conspicuously “on.” I venture to -predict that it will fail, and to think that it ought to fail. That -it ought to fail is, in this bad world, no good reason for thinking -that it will; there is a strong numerical presumption the other way. -For doubting the success of this “movement” there are reasons having -nothing to do with the righteousness or unrighteousness of the cause. -One is that the entire trend of our modern civilization is toward -combination and aggregation. In the “concert of the great powers” -of Europe we see its most significant, most beneficent and grandest -manifestation. Denounce it how we will, fight it as we may, we are -powerless to stay its advance in any department of human activity, -social, industrial, commercial, military, political. It is the dominant -phenomenon of our time. Labor combines into “unions,” capital into -“trusts,” and each aggregation is powerful in everything except in -combating its own methods in the other. The newspaper denounces the -one or the other—and joins a syndicate of newspapers. “Department -stores” spring up all over the land, draw the fire of the demagogue -and are impotently condemned in the platform of the political trust -that he adorns. Our great hotels are examples of the same centripetal -law, and offices move to the center into buildings overlooking the -church spires. Small farms are disappearing; railways absorb other -railways and by pooling interests with those unabsorbed, evoke impotent -legislation and vain “decisions.” Cities swallow and digest their -suburbs. There are such things as guilds of authors; tramps devastate -in organized bodies, and there has been even a congress of religions. - -In the larger politics we observe the same tendency to aggregation; -everywhere the unit of control is enlarging. In the Western Hemisphere -we have had Pan-American congresses and seen the genesis of the -Dominion of Canada. The United States have set up, and must henceforth -maintain, what is virtually a protectorate of American Republics—a -policy which commits us to their defense in every dispute with a -European power, gives us a living interest in all their affairs and -makes every square foot of South America in some sense United States -territory. - -Beyond the Atlantic it is the same. The entire continent of Africa is -being parted among a few European nations already swollen to enormous -growth by vast accretions of colonial dominion. And all over the world -colonial federation is in the air. In Europe itself states are drawn -together into kingdoms, kingdoms into empires. United Italy and United -Germany are conspicuous and significant examples. Whether in the Other -World a movement is afoot to establish Greater Heaven by annexing Hell -neither the celestial ambassadors have informed us from the pulpit, nor -the infernal from the tribune. - -Multiplication of international “conventions” and “treaties” is one -of the most striking of contemporary political phenomena. They are a -minor species of international federation, attesting and perpetuating a -community of interest which statesmen no longer venture to ignore. By -some hopeful spirits they are regarded as preliminary committee-work -of Tennyson’s “Parliament of Man.” International arbitration is a -blind step in the same direction, profitable chiefly as evidence of -the general trend. The set of the currents of human interests is from -all points of the compass toward fewer and fewer nuclei of control. We -may dislike the direction—may clamor against the current that seems to -be affecting a particular interest, but we can neither stay nor turn -it. We may utter (from the pocket) our disrelish of the “trust,” the -“combine,” the “monopoly”; they are phases of the movement and we shall -shriek in vain. - -A few of the public advantages of combinations in production may be -mentioned. Economy is the most obvious. A syndicate or trust requires -just as many miners to dig a million tons of coal, for example, as a -dozen independent companies did; but it does not require nearly so -many salaried officers, nor nearly so many expensive offices. The man -who is in danger of “losing his place” is not the laborer, yet it is -the laborers who are loudest in their wail. A little reflection will -suggest many other ways in which economy of production is served by -combination; but deeper reflection, with some knowledge of commercial -phenomena, is required to make it clear that economy of production -benefits anybody but the producer. It is of some potential advantage, -at least, to the consumer that the producer is able, without -bankruptcy, to lower the price of the product if Heaven should put it -into his heart to do so. - -Stability of employment is promoted by combination of capital. A single -concern employing ten thousand workmen will not hold them subject to -the whims and caprices of a single mind conscious of its ability to -replace them, as is the case with a man employing only a dozen. To a -rich corporation carrying on a large business a strike means a great -loss; to a score of small concerns it means a comparatively small loss -each, and is incurred with a light heart. Labor may be very sure of -having its demands attentively considered by those who cannot afford to -be a day without it. - -A great part of the clamor against trusts is the honest expression -of a belief (promoted by many writers on political economy) that in -commercial matters the only influence concerned in reduction of price -is competition. Nearly all workingmen are more or less discontented -with the “competitive system” in industrial affairs, but few have -learned to challenge its benignity in trade. Competition is, in fact, -only one of the several forces concerned in cheapening commodities -and, generally speaking, not by any means the most considerable. It -requires only a brief experience in producing and selling to convince -an intelligent man that his prosperity is to be found in the large -sales of his product that come of low prices. Having control of his -market and a free hand in the management of his business such a man -studies to reduce his selling price to the lowest possible point. An -enlightened selfishness moves him to undersell himself whenever he can, -as if he were his own competitor. - -Not all men managing large commercial affairs are intelligent. Some -of the trusts are organized and conducted with a view to enhancing -rather than reducing prices; but these are bound to fail. By tempting -the small concerns to remain in or re-enter the field, the trust cuts -its own throat. Its primary purpose is to “crush out” the independent -“small dealer,” and this it can do in only one way—lure away his -customers by underselling him. If consumers really think that is so -wicked a thing to do they have the remedy in their own hands. Let them -refuse to leave the small dealer, and continue to pay him the higher -price. This course would entail a bit of sacrifice, maybe, but it would -have the merit of freedom from cant and hypocrisy. I know of nothing -more ludicrous than the spectacle of these solemn consumers appealing -to the law and public opinion to avenge upon the trusts the injuries of -themselves and the small dealer—they having no injuries to avenge and -the small dealer only such as themselves have inflicted by assisting -the trusts to pluck him. The trust is condemned when it puts up prices, -for that harms the consumer; it is condemned when it puts them down, -for that harms the small dealer. In either case, both consumer and -small dealer make common cause against the enemy that can harm neither -without helping the other. If the history of human folly shows anything -more absurd surely the historian must have been Rabelais, “laughing -sardonically in his easy chair.” - -The trusts, it is feared, will become too rich and powerful to be -controlled. I do not think so. The reason that some of them already -defy the power of the states is that, being so few, they have not until -now attracted the serious attention of legislatures. And even now our -anti-trust legislation is more concerned with the impossible task of -abolition and prevention than with the practicable one of regulation. -When we have learned by blundering what we can not do we shall easily -enough learn what we can do, and find it quite sufficient. Governmental -ownership and governmental control are what we are coming to by leaps -and bounds; and with the industries and trade of the country in fewer -hands the task of regulating them will be greatly simplified, for it is -easier to manage one defendant in a single jurisdiction than many in a -hundred. - -But, it will be asked, is this to become a nation of employees working -for a few hundreds of taskmasters? Not at all. The spirited and -provident employee can become his own employer and the employer of -others by investing his savings in the stock of a trust. The greater -its gains, the greater will be his share of them. The “crushed out” -small dealer, too, can recoup himself by becoming a part of what -crushed him out. Naturally the tendency of the trusts will be to “work -the stock market,” to “put up jobs” on the small investors, and so -forth. Prevention of that sort of thing is a legitimate purpose for -legislation, and promises better results than “drastic” measures to -destroy the trusts themselves. To do the latter the laws would have -to be drawn so as to forbid any commercial enterprise requiring more -capital than its manager could himself supply. That would be a strange -law which should undertake to fix the amount of capital to be combined -under one management, or limit the number of persons permitted to -supply it; yet nothing less “drastic” will “down the trusts.” And -that would not, for it would be unconstitutional in every state of -the Union. As a contribution to the literature of humor it would be -slightly better than an apothegm by Josh Billings, but distinctly -inferior to that Northwestern statute making it a felony to conduct -a “department store”—every country store being of that felonious -character. - -It is not, perhaps, too late to explain that in these remarks the word -“trust” is used in the popular sense, meaning a large aggregation of -capital by combination of several concerns under one management. It is -my high privilege to know a better word for it, but in deference to -those who do most of the talking on this engaging theme I assent to -their kind of English. - - 1899. - - - - - POVERTY, CRIME AND VICE - - - I - -Andrew Carnegie once said in an address to a young men’s Bible class: - -“The cry goes up to abolish poverty, but it will indeed be a sad day -when poverty is no longer with us. Where will your inventor, your -artist, your philanthropist, your reformer, in fact, anybody of note, -come from then? They all come from the ranks of the poor. God does not -call his great men from the ranks of the rich.” - -That is not altogether true. The notable men do not all come from the -ranks of the poor, though Mr. Carnegie does, and that gives him the -right to point out the sweet “uses of adversity,” as did Shakspeare and -many others. The rich supply their quota of men naturally great, but -through lack of a sufficiently sharp incentive many of these give us -less than the best that is in them. When God is giving out genius he -does not study the assessment rolls. - -As to the rest, Mr. Carnegie is quite right. A world without poverty -would be a world of incapables. Poverty may be due to one or more of -many causes, but in a large, general way it is Nature’s punishment for -incapacity and improvidence. Paraphrasing the poet, we may say that -some are born poor, some achieve poverty, and some have poverty thrust -upon them—“by the wicked rich,” quoth the demagogue. Dear, delicious, -old demagogue!—whatever should we do if all were too rich to support -him, and his voice were heard no more in the land? - -Frequently a curse to the individual, poverty is a blessing to the -race, not only because by effacing the unfit (Heaven rest them!) it -aids in the survival of the fit; not only because it is a school of -fortitude, industry, perseverance, ingenuity, and many another virtue; -but because it directly begets such warm and elevating sentiments as -compassion, generosity, self-denial, thoughtfulness for others—in a -word, altruism. It does not beget enough of all this, but think what we -should be with none of it! If there were no helplessness there would -be no helpfulness. That pity is akin to love is sufficiently familiar -to the ear, but how profound a truth it is no one seems to suspect. -Why, pity is the sole origin of love. We love our children, not because -they are ours, but because they are helpless: they need our tenderness -and care, as do our domestic animals and our pets. Man loves woman -because she is weak; woman loves man, not because he is strong, but -because, for all his strength, he is needy; he needs _her_. Minor -affections and good will have a similar origin. Friendship came of -mutual protection and assistance. Hospitality is vestigial; primarily -it was compassion for the wayfarer, the homeless, the hungry. If among -our “rude forefathers” none had needed food and shelter, we should have -to-day no “entertaining,” no social pleasures of any kind. - -Poverty is one kind of helplessness. It is an appeal to “what we have -the likest God within the soul.” In its relief we are made acquainted -with ingratitude. Ingratitude, like spanking, or ridicule, or -disappointment in love, hurts without harming. It is a bitter tonic, -but wholesome and by habit may, doubtless, become agreeable. This, -therefore, is how we demonstrate one of the advantages of poverty: -Without poverty there could be no benevolence; without benevolence, no -ingratitude—whereby human nature would lack its supreme credential. - -I go further than Mr. Carnegie; not only do I think poverty necessary -to progress and civilization, but I am persuaded that crime, too, is -indispensable to the moral and material welfare of the race. In the -ever needful effort to limit and suppress it; in the immemorial and -incessant war between the good and the evil forces of this world; -in the constant vigilance necessary to the security of life and -property; in the strenuous task of safe-guarding the young, the weak -and the unfortunate against the cruelty and rapacity ever alurk and -alert to prey upon them—in all these forms of the struggle for our -racial existence are generated and developed such higher virtues -and capabilities as we have. A country without crime would breed a -population without sense. In a few generations of security its people -would suffer a great annual mortality by falling over their feet. They -would be devoured by their dogs and enslaved by their cows. - -Poverty and crime are teachers in Nature’s great training school. -Does it follow that we should cease to resist them—should encourage -and promote them? Not at all; their best beneficence is found in our -struggle to suppress, overcome or evade them. The hope of eventual -success is itself a spiritual good of no mean magnitude. Let all the -chaplains of our forces encourage and hope and pray for that success; -but for my part, if I thought victory imminent or possible, I should -run away. - -Some Chicago millionaires once set afoot a giant scheme for settling -the slum population of our great cities on farms. This was a project -foredoomed to failure: one might as well attempt to colonize on the -hills the fishes of the sea. The experiment of taking the slumfolk -from the slums and making them agriculturists has been tried again and -again, always with the best intention, always with the worst result: -in a few years all are back again in the congenial slums. Of course it -ought not to be that way; these unfortunate persons ought not to have -inherited from countless generations of urban ancestors the tastes, -feelings and capacities binding them to their mode of life as strongly -as the children of prosperity are bound to theirs. The mysterious -suasion of their environment ought not to exert its incessant, -irresistible pull. The call of the slum should sound through their -very dreams with a less iron authority. If with our superior wisdom we -had made this world—you and I—men and women of all degrees would turn -their faces ever to the light, and the line of least resistance would -lead always upward. Their tastes and their instincts would never war -with their interests, and the longer one had remained in bondage to the -taskmasters of Egypt the more eagerly one would seek the Promised Land, -the more contentedly dwell in it. In the world as we have it matters -are differently ordered. The way to help the slumfolk is to improve the -slums; not enough to drive them out—there should be no worse places for -them to go to; just enough to give them a not altogether intolerable -prosperity where they are. Earth has no more hopeless being than a -renovated slum-dweller, uncongenially prosperous and inappropriately -clean. - - - II - -That there is in this country a deep-seated and growing distrust -of the rich by the poor is a truth which every right-headed and -right-hearted man is compelled to perceive and deplore. That many of -the rich have thoughtlessly and selfishly done much to provoke it is -equally obvious and equally deplorable; but largely, I think, it is -due to the pernicious teachings of those of both classes who find a -profit in promoting it. For neither the rich nor the poor constitute -a brotherhood bound by the ties of a common interest; and on the -whole, it is well that they do not, for loyalty in defense is usually -associated with loyalty in aggression, and those accustomed to stand -together for their rights too frequently think that the best foothold -is found upon the rights of those opposing them. Not all the rich are -men of prey, but to those who are, no quarry is more alluring than the -other rich, not only in the way of direct spoliation in business, but -by catching the pennies of the applauding poor through that kind of -apostasy that poses as superior virtue. - -A great part of the sullen animosity of poverty to wealth is -undoubtedly the product of mere envy, one of the black elements of -human nature whose strength and activity are commonly underestimated, -even by the most discerning observers, which of all modern pessimists, -Schopenhauer seems most clearly to have perceived. Hatred of the -wealthy by the poor, of the great by the obscure, of the gifted by -the dull, is so admirably disguised by the servility with which it is -not inconsistent, so generally concealed through consciousness of its -disgraceful character, as to have escaped right appraisement by all but -the most penetrating understandings. - -In producing this antipathy of class to class many other factors are -concerned, among them the notion, carefully fostered by demagogues, -that, naturally and without reference to personal worth, the rich -man despises the poor man. The fact that most of our rich men were -once poor is permitted to cut no figure in the matter; as is the fact -that annually in this country more than one hundred million dollars -are given away by the rich in merely those benefactions large enough -to attract public attention. “Not so very much,” says the demagogue, -“considering how many of them there are.” But when engaged in showing -how large a proportion of the country’s wealth is owned by how few -persons, he sings another song. - -The hatred is not mutual; the wealthy do not dislike and despise their -less fortunate, less capable, less thrifty, lucky, enterprising or -ambitious fellow-men. The element of envy is not present to feed the -rancor. Nor is there any profit in the business of kindling and keeping -alight the fires of hostility to the poor; the demagogue has among the -rich no professional antagonist practising _his_ methods. - -True, the wealthy do, as a rule, hold themselves aloof from the poor; -even usually from those with whom they associated before their days -of prosperity; sometimes from their own less prosperous relatives. -There are several reasons; the inexperienced “capitalist” who suspects -that none of them is valid can try his luck at making no change in -his associations. He will be wiser after a while, but will have fewer -friends and less ready money. It will be more economical to learn from -some one who has prospered before him—even from a person known to have -merely a fair salary and not known to have any dependents. - -Doubtless “colossal” fortunes have their disadvantages, chiefly, -I think, to those in possession; but as a general proposition, -money-making may safely be permitted, for there is no way under the sun -to get any good out of money except by parting with it. One may pay -it to a tradesman for goods; the tradesman pays it to another, but -eventually it goes to the man that makes the goods, the workman. Or -one may lend it on interest, the borrower lending it again at a higher -interest, or investing it; it may pass through a dozen hands, but the -ultimate man pays it out for labor—the sole purpose and meaning of the -entire series of transactions. All the money in the world, except the -small part hoarded by misers or lost, is paid out for labor, flows back -in converging streams as capital, and is again distributed in wages. -Does the socialist know this? He knows nothing; he learned it from Karl -Marx and Upton Sinclair. The man who, making money in his own country, -spends it in another, may or may not be mischievous to his countrymen; -that depends on what he buys. To his race he is harmless and beneficial. - -On the whole, the unfortunate rich man, cowering as a prisoner in the -dock before the austere tribunal of public opinion, has a pretty good -defense if he only knew it. As he seems imperfectly provided with -counsel and is not saying much himself, it would be only just for the -court to enter a plea of not guilty for him, and to hear a little -more testimony than that so abundantly proffered by swift and willing -witnesses for the prosecution. - - - III - -Abolition of poverty is not all that our reformers propose—they -would abolish all that is disagreeable. Let us suppose them to have -accomplished their amiable purposes. We have, then, a country in which -are no poverty, no contention, no tyranny or oppression, no peril to -life or limb, no disease—and so forth. How delightful! What a good -and happy people! Alas, no! With poverty have vanished benevolence, -providence, and the foresight which, born of the fear of individual -want, stands guard at a thousand gates to defend the general good. The -charitable impulse is dead in every breast, and gratitude, atrophied by -disuse, has no longer a place among human sentiments and emotions. With -no more fighting among ourselves we have lost the power of resentment -and resistance: a car-load of Mexicans or a shipful of Japanese can -invade our fool’s paradise and enslave us, as the Spaniards overran -Peru and the British subdued India. (Hailers of “the dawn of the new -era” will, I trust, provide that it dawn everywhere at once or here -last of all.) Having no oppression to resist and no suffering to -experience, we no longer need the courage to defy, nor the fortitude -to endure. Heroism is a failing memory and magnanimity a dream of -the past; for not only are the virtues known by contrast with the -vices, they spring from the same seed, grow in the same soil, ripen -in the same sunshine, and perish in the same frost. A fine race of -mollycoddles we should be without our sins and sufferings! In a world -without evils there would be one supreme evil—existence. - -We need not fear any such condition. Progress is infected with the -germs of reversion; on the grave of the civilization of to-day will -squat the barbarian of to-morrow, “with a glory in his bosom” that -will transfigure him the day after. The alternation is one that we can -neither hasten nor retard, for our success baffles us. If, for example, -we could abolish war, disease and famine, the race would multiply to -the point of “standing room only”—a condition prophesying war, disease -and famine. Wherefore the wisest prayer is this: “O Lord, make thy -servant strong to fight and impotent to prevail.” - - 1900. - - - - - DECADENCE OF THE AMERICAN FOOT - - -The ultimate destiny of the American foot is a subject which, through -an enlightened selfishness, must more and more engage the interest -of the American head and the sympathies of the American heart. Even -apart from the question of its final fate and place in the scheme of -things, the human foot, American and foreign, has many features of -peculiar interest. In the singular complexity of its structure, closely -(and as the scientists affirm, significantly) resembling that of the -hand, lurk possibilities of controversy sufficient in themselves to -tempt attention and invite research. In truth this honorable member’s -framework may be said to consist mainly of bones of contention. -Religion affirms of its arched instep, its flexible toes, its padded -sole, and the other peculiarities of its intricate construction an -obvious adaptability of means to an end: proof positive of intelligent -design, and therefore of an intelligent Designer— _vide_ -Whateley, _passim_. Science coldly replies by pointing to the -serviceable foot of the bear, which lacks the arched instep, and of the -horse, which is without the flexible toes, or toes of any kind, and -in which no use is made of the padded sole. To the simple purposes to -which the human foot is applied, says the scientist, its complexity is -in no sense nor degree contributory; it would perform all its offices -equally well if it were a hoof. All the distinguishing features of -the human foot, as contrasted with that, for example, of the horse or -sheep, he avers to be such, variously modified by long and regrettable -disuse, as fit animals for climbing trees and dwelling in the branches. -The human foot is, in short, according to this view of the matter, -nothing but an expurgated edition of that of the monkey, and a standing -evidence of our descent from that tree-dwelling philosopher. - -Into this controversy I do not purpose to enter; I prefer to stand afar -off and suggest a compromise, whereby each contentionary may retain, -with the other’s assent, all that essential part of his belief which is -precious to his mind and heart. Let the scientist surrender so much of -his theory as is incompatible with the assumption of creative design, -the religionist so much of his faith as traverses the assertion of -arboreal activity. The new theory, taking broad enough ground for all -to stand upon, may be formulated somewhat as follows: The human foot as -we have it was designed by an intelligent Power in order to fit mankind -for an arboreal future. - -Than this nothing could be fairer. It seems acceptable, and I hope -it will be accepted by persons of every shade of religious faith and -scientific conviction. It leaves the Christian his Adam, the Darwinian -his Ape. Revealed in it, as in a magic crystal, we discern the engaging -truth that the hope of Heaven and the belief in a more advanced -stage of evolution are virtually the same thing—each in its way a -prophecy of another and higher life. That we shall enjoy that superior -existence in the flesh is a happiness that is but slightly impaired -by the circumstance that it will be in the flesh of Posterity. This -is a consideration indeed, that does not at all affect the interest -of the evolutionist, for he never has had any expectations; and to -the religious person there is a peculiar joy inhering in renunciation -of his individual hope for the assurance of a racial advantage. In -contemplation of Posterity frolicking blithely in its leafy and breezy -environment, in shoeless nimbleness arboreally gay, every good soul -will accept mortality without a pang. - -But I have strayed a long way from the question of the ultimate destiny -of the American foot. Be it now confessed in all candor that the -compromise theory above propounded has a most dubious relevancy to that -subject; for in the sylvan high-jinks of the Coming Man the Coming -American will probably have no part. While the human foot in general -shows no evidence of ever having been employed in its legitimate duty -and future function; while Science is not justified in affirming its -degeneracy from long disuse in climbing; nothing is more certain than -that the American variety of it is doomed to a fatal atrophy from -disuse in walking. In cities the multiplication of street-car lines -points unmistakably to a time in the near future when there will be one -or more in every street, with possibly a moving sidewalk, supplied with -upholstered seats, on each side of the way. The universal use of the -“elevator” in public and private buildings, including dwellings, will -indubitably be followed by that of tubes for shooting the inmates out -of the house and sucking the outmates in. With the general adoption of -the traveling carpet, carrying chairs among the several rooms, the last -vestigial excuse for the American urban foot will have been effaced, -and that member will not lag superfluous on the stage, but in obedience -to Nature’s mandate step down and out forthwith. - -In the rural districts it will doubtless have a longer lease of -life, owing partly to the conservative character of the people, -the difficulty of hoeing corn while sitting, the saving badness of -the roads—inhibiting vehicular “traffic” by all but the hardiest -adventurers—and the intricacy of the trails, which forbids the general -use of the steam bicycle in driving home the cows. - -Eventually these disabilities will be overcome by American ingenuity, -and the rural foot having no longer a function in the physical economy, -will be absorbed into the character. Its relegation, with that of its -urban congenitor, to Nature’s waste-dump in the tenebrous realm of -things that are no more will mark the dawn of a new era in our life -and be followed by radical and profound changes, particularly in the -tactical movements of infantry. - - - - - THE CLOTHING OF GHOSTS - - -Belief in ghosts and apparitions is general, almost universal; possibly -it is shared by the ghosts themselves. We are told that this wide -distribution of the faith and its persistence through the ages are -powerful evidences of its truth. As to that, I do not remember to have -heard the basis of the argument frankly stated; it can be nothing -else than that whatever is generally and long believed is true, -for of course there can be nothing in the particular belief under -consideration making it peculiarly demonstrable by counting noses. The -world has more Buddhists than Christians. Is Buddhism therefore the -truer religion? Before the day of Galileo there was a general though -not quite universal conviction that the earth was a motionless body, -the sun passing around it daily. That was a matter in which “the united -testimony of mankind” ought to have counted for more than it should in -the matter of ghosts, for all can observe the earth and sun, but not -many profess to see ghosts, and no one holds that the circumstances -in which they are seen are favorable to calm and critical observation. -Ghosts are notoriously addicted to the habit of evasion; Heine says -that it is because they are afraid of us. “The united testimony of -mankind” has a notable knack at establishing only one thing—the -incredibility of the witnesses. - -If the ghosts care to prove their existence as objective phenomena -they are unfortunate in always discovering themselves to inaccurate -observers, to say nothing of the bad luck of frightening them into -fits. That the seers of ghosts are inaccurate observers, and therefore -incredible witnesses, is clear from their own stories. Who ever heard -of a naked ghost? The apparition is always said to present himself -(as he certainly should) properly clothed, either “in his habit as -he lived” or in the apparel of the grave. Herein the witness must be -at fault: whatever power of apparition after dissolution may inhere -in mortal flesh and blood, we can hardly be expected to believe -that cotton, silk, wool and linen have the same mysterious gift. If -textile fabrics had that property they would sometimes manifest it -independently, one would think—would “materialize” visibly without a -ghost inside, a greatly simpler apparition than “the grin without the -cat.” - -Ask any proponent of ghosts if he think that the products of the loom -can “revisit the glimpses of the moon” after they have duly decayed, -or, while still with us, can show themselves in a place where they -are not. If he have no suspicion, poor man, of the trap set for him, -he will pronounce the thing impossible and absurd, thereby condemning -himself out of his own mouth; for assuredly such powers in these -material things are necessary to the garmenting of spooks. - -Now, by the law _falsus in uno falsus in omnibus_ we are compelled -to reject all the ghost stories that have ever been seriously told. -If the observer (let him be credited with the best intentions) has -observed so badly as to think he saw what he did not see, and could -not have seen, in one particular, to what credence is he entitled with -regard to another? His error in the matter of the “long white robe” or -other garment where no long white robe or other garment could be puts -him out of court altogether. Resurrection of woolen, linen, silk, fur, -lace, feathers, hooks and eyes, buttons, hatpins and the like—well, -really, that is going far. - -No, we draw the line at clothing. The materialized spook appealing to -our senses for recognition of his ghostly character must authenticate -himself otherwise than by familiar and remembered habiliments. He must -be credentialed by nudity—and that regardless of temperature or who -may happen to be present. Nay, it is to be feared that he must eschew -his hair, as well as his habiliments, and “swim into our ken” utterly -bald; for the scientists tell us with becoming solemnity that hair is a -purely vegetable growth and no essential part of us. If he deem these -to be hard conditions he is at liberty to remain on his reservation and -try to endow us with a terrifying sense of himself by other means. - -In brief, the conditions under which the ghost must appear in order to -command the faith of an enlightened world are so onerous that he may -prefer to remain away—to the unspeakable impoverishment of letters and -art. - - 1902. - - - - - SOME ASPECTS OF EDUCATION - - -When Richard Olney was Secretary of State, “Ouida” (who had nothing to -do with the matter) addressed to him a remonstrance against exclusion -of illiterate immigrants, explaining that the analphabets in her -employ were better servants than those who could read. “I have had for -twenty years,” she said, “an old man (what is called ‘the odd man’ -in England), and he can be sent with fifty commissions to purchase -objects. Detail him orally and he will execute these commissions with -no single error.” Illiteracy may be a valuable quality in a servant, -but we are not taking in immigrants with a view to the betterment of -our domestic service; it may qualify a man to do errands, but as a help -to him in reading a ballot it does not amount to much. As a claim to -high political preferment it is distinctly less valid than a bald head -and a knack at gabble. - -Nevertheless, “Ouida” was not altogether wrong. A man is not made -intelligent by mere ability to read and write: his little learning -is a dangerous thing to himself and to his country. The only reading -that such men do is of the most degrading kind: it debases them, mind -and heart, gives them a false estimate of their worth, magnifies -their woes, and fills them with a sense of their numbers and their -power. Eventually they “rise” and have to be shot. Or they succeed, -and having first put to death the gifted rascals who incited and led -them, they set up a Government of Unreason which they lack the sense -to maintain, and their last state is no better than their first. That -is the dull, dreary old sequence of events, so familiar to the student -of history. That is the beaten path leading back to its beginning, -which must be traveled again and again without a break in the monotony -of the march. That is Progress—the brute revolt of the ignorant mass, -their resubjection by the intelligent few; nowhere justice, nowhere -righteousness, everywhere and always force, greed, selfishness and sin. -That is the universal struggle—sometimes sluggish, sometimes turbulent, -always without an outcome and with no hope of one. Along that hideous -path our American free feet are merrily keeping time to the beating of -hearts which, swelling to-day with the pride of progress, will shrink -to-morrow with the dread of doom. - -What then?—is popular education mischievous? Popular education is good -for many things; it is not good for the stability of states. Whatever -its advantages, it has this disadvantage: it produces “industrial -discontent”; and industrial discontent is the first visible symptom of -national wreck. Prate as we will of the “dignity of labor,” we convince -no one that labor is anything other than a hard, imperious necessity, -to be avoided if possible. Education promises avoidance—a promise which -to the mass of workers is not, and can not be, kept. It brings to Labor -a bitter disappointment which in time is transmuted into political -mischief. The only man that labors with a song in his heart is he -that knows nothing but to labor. Give him education—enlarge by ever -so little the scope of his thought—make him permeable to a sense of -the pleasures of life and his own privations, and you set up a quarrel -between him and his condition. He may remain in his lowly station, -but that will be because he cannot get out of it. He may continue to -perform his hard and hateful work, but he will no longer perform it -cheerfully and well. - -What is the remedy?—educate him still more? Then he will no longer -perform it at all—he will die first! Those of us who have tried both -may assure him that head-work is harder than hand-work, that it takes -more out of one, that its rewards give no greater happiness; he -observes that none of us renounces it for the other kind. He does not -believe us, and it would not affect him if he did. - -What, as a matter of fact, is the public advantage of even that higher -education which we tax ourselves more and more to make general? Look at -our overcrowded professions, whose “ethics” and practices grow worse -and worse from increasing competition. Not one of them is any longer -a really “honorable” profession. Look at the monstrous overgrowth -of our cities, those congested brains of the nation. They draw to -themselves all the output of the colleges and the universities, and as -much of that of the country schools as can get a precarious foothold -and live—God knows how—in hope to “better its condition.” A pretty -picture, truly: a population roughly divisible into a conscienceless -crowd of brain-workers who have so “bettered their condition” as to -live by prey; a sullen multitude of manual laborers blowing the coals -of discontent and plotting a universal overthrow. Above the one perch -the primping monkeys of “society,” chattering in meaningless glee; -below the other the brute tramp welters in his grime. And with it -all a national wealth that amazes the world and profits nobody—the -country’s wonder, pride and curse. Still we go on with a maniacal hope, -adding school to school, college to college, university to university, -and—unconscious provision for their product—almshouses, asylums and -prisons in prodigal abundance. - -I am far from affirming that the industrial discontent which for more -than a half century has been an augmenting menace to our national life, -has its sole origin in popular education conjoined with the higher -education of too many. For any social phenomenon there is no lack of -causes. For this there are, among others, two of special importance. -First, the duplication of the labor force by that female competition -which, beginning its displacements pretty well up in the scale, drives -the unlucky male to lower and lower levels, until forced out of the -lowest by invasion by his own sex from higher ones, he finds no rest -for the sole of his foot and takes to the road, an irreclaimable tramp. -Second, the amazing multiplication of “labor-saving” machinery, whose -disadvantages are swift, and advantages slow—which throws men out of -work, who starve while awaiting restitution in the lower price of its -products, many of which, even when cheap, are imperfectly edible. So I -do not say that the schoolmaster is the only pestilence that walketh -at noon-day. But I do say—and one with half an eye can observe it for -himself and in his own person—that learning in any degree indisposes to -manual toil in some degree; that the scholar will not labor musclewise -if he can help it, nor with a contented spirit when he can not help it. - -In his Founders’ Day address at Stanford University, the President of -another university said: - - Usually an education will pay, but even when the professions are - crowded and he [the college man] can find no place he is still the - better for it if he will but accept some lower occupation in life. - -But “usually” he will not; he will wedge himself into some -“profession,” whether he can make an honest living in it or not. And -failing to make an honest living, he will make a living that is not -honest. In the service of his belly and his back, he will resort to -all manner of shady and unprofessional conduct. His competition forces -other weak members of his profession into the same crooked courses, -to which the public becomes accustomed and indifferent. What was -once unprofessional becomes professional and respectable; with every -accession of new men, the standard of allowable conduct falls lower, -and to-day the learned professions are little more than organized -conspiracies to plunder. - -The distinguished author of the address is not without dreams of -educational expansion. He says: - - Let the common people flock by hundreds of thousands to the higher - institutions of learning; then the whole community will be lifted - to a happier level. - -As in Germany, where men of university education are as thick as flies -and the fields are tilled by women. Then educate the women and the -field must be tilled by monkeys. Treading that “happier level” of -German civilization are hundreds of thousands of scholars, becomingly -stoop-shouldered and fitly be-spectacled, whom a day’s wage of an -American farm hand would support in unaccustomed luxury for a week. -But not a mother’s son of them will perform manual labor if he can -help it. Nor will any of the corresponding class here or elsewhere. To -educate “the man with a hoe” is to divorce him from his hoe—a prompt -and irrevocable separation. A good deal of hoeing is needful in this -world, and not so much lawing and physicking and preaching and writing -and painting and the rest of it. - -If I were dictator I would abolish every “institution of learning” -above the grammar schools, excepting one or two universities. I would -make a university in fact, as well as in name. It should not only -turn out the finest scholars in the world, but it should be a place -of original research in a sense that none of our universities now is. -From the grammar school to its portal the student should make his -upward way unaided—enough would accomplish the feat and thereby prove -their fitness; and those who failed would not be greatly harmed by the -effort. I am not quite sure if I should limit the number of students -by law; probably that could best be done by the rigor of examinations. -Under my dictatorship we would not be a community of “college -graduates,” mostly men of prey, but neither should we be so top-heavy -that in some social convulsion the country would “turn turtle” and -stand on its head. - - 1897. - - - - - THE REIGN OF THE RING - - -The statement is made on what seems as good authority as in such a -matter can be cited that in Europe the custom of wearing finger-rings -is “going out”—to “come in” again, doubtless, with renewed vitality. -It is hardly to be expected that it will suffer a permanent extinction -while human character remains what it is; and the acutest observer can -discern no symptoms of change in that. The original impulse moving -the gentlemen and ladies of the Stone Age to circumclude their untidy -digits with annular sections of the shinbones of their vanquished -foemen while awaiting a knowledge of the metals is apparently not -nearly exhausted, and we are far less likely to see the end of it than -it is to see the end of us. It is more probable, indeed, that the -nose-ring will return to bless us than that the finger-ring will add -itself to the melancholy list of good things gone before. - -Amongst the several tribes of our species the habit of encircling -the human finger with something not contemplated in the original -design of that variously useful member is almost universal, and it -so far antedates history and tradition that by another sort of lying -than either it has been outfitted with a divine origin. In ancient -Egypt it was ascribed to Osiris, whose priests were distinguished -from meaner mortals by finger-rings of a peculiar and mystical -design, having a profound significance all the more impressive by -reason of its impenetrability to conjecture. Perchol, however, has an -ingenious theory that it was intended to puzzle the Egyptologist of -the time-to-be; an instance of foresight which one can commend while -deploring the unworthy motive at the back of it. - -Amongst the ancient Jews rings were symbols of authority, as we see -in the case of Joseph, to whom the Pharaoh gave one when he made him -Governor; and this was a common use of rings in all antiquity. They -were credentials of ambassadors and messengers, and served in place -of written commissions, which, frequently it was impossible to give, -for the commissioning power could not write, and which would have -been ineffective, for most other persons could not read. In matters -of business the ring was a power-of-attorney. Its usefulness in this -way was suggested, doubtless, by the difficulty of imposture: written -authorization may easily be forged, but a ring can not well be obtained -from the finger of its owner without his consent. - -The attribution of magical and medicinal virtues to rings pervades -all ancient and mediæval story. Gyges, King of Lydia, had a ring by -which the wearer could become invisible—a result accomplishable, -though sometimes too tardily, by our modern plan of going away. One -of the Kings of Lombardy had a ring which told him in what direction -to travel. It may have contained a compass, though to that theory -is opposed the objection that he antedated the invention of that -instrument. But (I make the suggestion with humility) may not his have -been the compass afterward invented? Medicated rings were in popular -use in ancient Rome. An efficacious design for these, according to -Trallian, a physician of the fourth century, was Hercules strangling -the Nemæan lion. This, he assures us, is, if well engraved, a specific -for stomach-ache. Throughout mediæval Europe belief in the healing -power of certain rings was widely diffused; but then, as now, persons -free from gross superstitions preferred to treat their disorders by -touching the relics of saints. - -Rings engraved with the names of the Magi were once in great medical -repute, but in 1674 a learned prelate threw discredit upon them by -showing that the true names were not known, being variously given as -Melchior, Balthasar and Jasper; Apellius, Amerus and Damascus; Ator, -Sator and Petratoras. As the author of _Ben-Hur_ has given the -weight of his authority to the first three names, the healing-ring may -with some confidence be engraved with them and pushed back into its old -place in public esteem. But before risking any money in the manufacture -it would be prudent to test upon a few patients the accuracy of General -Wallace’s historical knowledge by administering the names of his choice -internally. - -A ring presented to Edward the Confessor cured epilepsy, and after -the death of the royal owner by another and hardier disease it was -preserved as a relic in Westminster Abbey. Rings which had been -blessed, or even touched, by the sovereign were for some centuries -considered worthy of a place in the British _materia medica_; -and such would doubtless command a high price to-day in the American -market—not to keep the purchaser in good health, but to make his -neighbors sick with envy. - -Of all rings possessing magical or medicinal virtues the toadstone ring -of our fathers was the most interesting. It was well known to those -ingenious naturalists that - - the toad, ugly and venomous, - Wears yet a precious jewel in his head, - -as Shakspeare was at the trouble to point out. It was customary to set -this in a ring and wear it, for it had the useful property of changing -color and sweating when poison was about. As poison was one of the -commonest means by which our easy-going ancestors accomplished the end -of one another’s sojourn in this vale of tears a monitor of that kind -was extremely useful to have literally “on hand at meal-time.” - -Certain stones were once regarded as having maleficent properties and -were never set in rings. A chronicler relates that a certain knight in -one of the crusades possessed himself of a costly scimitar belonging to -a Saracen whom he had slain, and became so expert in its use that he -discarded his own weapon and used the other. But from that time forth -he met with nothing but disaster and shame. It was discovered that in -fitting the scimitar with a cross-hilt, as Christian piety demanded, -the malicious armorer had substituted for one of the gems an emerald, -which by some secret process he had disguised. The malign stone and the -armorer’s head having been removed the prowess of the knight was again -effective and he rose to great distinction and honor. In the folk-lore -of some of the riparian peoples along the Danube the topaz was listed -as a peculiar possession of the Adversary of Souls. It was held that -if one could by force or fraud get a topaz ring upon an enemy’s finger -it would be impossible to remove it, and the victim would go, body and -soul, to the devil. Advancing enlightenment has effaced these silly -superstitions; we now know that the opal only is really malign. - -We have it on the authority of Shakspeare that at least Aldermen wore -thumb rings, for Falstaff avers that before he was blown up like a -bladder by sighing and grief he could have crept through one, being -“not an eagle’s talon in the waist.” If the custom had lived till our -time Aldermen would have been at considerable expense for thumb-rings, -for their fingers are all thumbs everywhere but in the public pocket. -As engagements and weddings subtend a pretty wide angle in the circle -of human life in modern times the ring is perhaps a more important -factor in the happiness of at least one-half the race than ever before; -and that half is the more conservative half; it and its customs are -not soon parted. Not that engagement rings and wedding rings are a new -thing under the sun: amongst several ancient peoples the wedding ring -was an institution of prime importance. The bride’s investiture with -that sign and symbol of wifehood was not merely in attestation of the -wedding; it was the wedding. Divorce consisted in pulling it off, and -that simple act—commonly performed by the husband—was not complicated -with any questions of counsel fees, alimony and custody of the children. - -The finger-ring will probably maintain its “ancient, solitary reign” -for some time yet. The custom of wearing it is too deeply rooted in -the nature of things, and the root has too many ramifications to be -lightly renounced by virtue of any royal rescript of the “queens of -fashion” in Paris, London or New York. It is not a mere garden plant -growing loosely in the artificial top-soil of human vanity, but a -hardy perennial, having a firm hold in many substrata of character and -tradition, and eliciting nourishment from all. The finger-ring is on to -stay. - - - - - FIN DE SIECLE - - -An end-of-the-century horse is doubtless pretty much the same as a -horse of another period, but is there not in literature, art, politics -and in intellectual and moral matters generally, an element, a spirit -peculiar to the time and not altogether discernible to observation—a -something which, not hitherto noted, or at least not so noticeable, -now “pervades and animates the whole?” It seems to me that there is. -Precisely what is its nature? That is not easy to answer; the thing is -felt rather than observed. It is subtle, elusive, addressing, perhaps, -only those sensibilities for whose needs of expression our English -vocabulary makes little provision. I should with some misgiving call -it the note of despair, or, more accurately, desperation. It sounds -through the tumult of our lives as the boatswain’s whistle penetrates -with a vibrant power the uproar of the storm—the singing and shouting -of the wind in the cordage, the hissing of the waves, the shock and -thunder of their monstrous buffets as they burst against the ship. O -there’s a meaning in the phrase—a significance born of iteration. As -certain predictions by their power upon the imagination assist in their -own fulfilment, so this haunting phrase has made itself a meaning and -shaped the facts to fit it. In the twilight of the century we have -prophecies of the coming night, and see ghosts. - -We are all dominated by our imaginations and our views are creatures -of our viewpoints. To the ordinary mind the end of a century seems the -end of one of a series of stages of progress, arranged in straight-away -order, and impossible of prolongation. To turn the end of one line is -to go back and begin it all _de novo_ on a parallel line—an end -of progress, a long leap to the rear, a slow and painful resumption. -Of course there is nothing in the facts to correspond to this fanciful -and fantastic notion, but it is none the less powerful for that. To -the person of that order of mind it undoubtedly seems that with the -final year of the century the race will have lost a century of some -advantage which he is not likely to see regained. He does not think -that—he thinks nothing at all about it—he merely feels so, and can not -even formulate the feeling. Quite the same it colors his moods, his -character, his very manner of life and action. He has something of the -ghastly gaiety of the plague-smitten soldiers in the song, who drank -to those already dead and hurrahed for those about to die. The _fin -de siècle_ spirit is fairly expressible by an intention to make the -most of a vanishing opportunity by doing something out of the common. - -Nearly everywhere we observe this spirit translating itself into acts -and phenomena. In religion it finds manifestation in repair of “creeds -outworn,” in acceptance of modern miracles, in pilgrimages, in strange -and futile attempts at unification—even in toleration. In politics it -has overspread the earth with anarchism, socialism, communism, woman -suffrage and actual antagonism between the sexes. Industrial affairs -show it in unnatural animosities and destructive struggles between -employers and employees, in wild aspirations for impossible advantages, -in resurrection of crude convictions and methods of antiquity. In -literature it has given us realism, in art impressionism, and in -both as much else that is false and extravagant as it is possible to -name. In morals it has gone to the length of denying the expedience -of morality. In all civilized countries crime is so augmenting, the -sociologists tell us, that national earnings will not much longer -be sufficient to support the machinery for its repression. Madness -and suicide are advancing “by leaps and bounds,” and wars were never -so needless and reasonless as now. Everywhere are a wild welter of -action and thought, a cutting loose from all that is conservative and -restraining, a “carnival of crime,” a reign of unreason. - -Not everywhere: superior to all this madness, tranquil in the midst of -it, and to some degree controlling it, stands Science, inaccessible -to its malign influence and unaffectable by the tumult. Why?—how? God -knows; I only perceive that the scientific mind has an imagination of -its own kind. To him who has been trained to accurate observation and -definite thought a century of years does not seem to have an end—it -is simply one hundred times round the sun; and at the last moment of -our _siècle_ we shall be just where we have been a million times -before, under no different cosmic conditions. He is not impressed with -“the sadness of it,” feels no desperation—sees nothing in it. He keeps -his head—which, by the way, is worth keeping. - - 1898. - - - - - TIMOTHY H. REARDEN - - -In the death of Judge Rearden the world experienced a loss that is -more likely adequately to be estimated in another generation than in -this. A lawyer dies and his practice passes to others. A judge falls -in harness, another is appointed or elected, and the business of the -court goes on as before, frequently better. But for the vacant place -of a scholar and man of letters there are no applicants. To him there -is no successor: neither the President has the appointing power nor -the people the power to elect. The vacancy is permanent, the loss -irreparable; something has gone out of the better and higher life of -the community which can not be replaced, and the void is the dead man’s -best monument, invisible but eternal. Other scholars and men of letters -will come forward in the new generation, but of none can it be said -that he carries forward on the same lines the work of the “vanished -hand,” nor declares exactly those truths of nature and art that would -have been formulated by the “voice that is still.” - -In that elder education which was once esteemed the only needful -intellectual equipment of a gentleman, those attainments still -commonly, and perhaps preferably, denoted by the word “scholarship,” -Judge Rearden was probably without an equal on his side of the -continent. Except by his habit of historical and literary allusion—to -which he was perhaps somewhat over-addicted—and by that significant -something, so difficult to name, yet to the discerning few so obvious, -in the thought and speech of learned men, which is not altogether -breadth and reach of reason nor altogether subtlety of taste and -sentiment—in truth, is compatible with their opposites—except for these -indirect disclosures he seldom and to few indeed gave even a hint of -the enormous acquired wealth in the treasury of his mind. Graduated -from a second-rate college in Ohio with little but a knowledge of -Latin and Greek, a studious habit and a disposition so unworldly -that it might almost be called unearthly, he pursued his amassment -of knowledge with the unfailing diligence of an unfailing love, to -the end. He knew not only the classical languages and many of the -tongues of modern Europe, but their several dialects as well. To know -a language is nothing, but to know its literature from the beginning, -and to have incorporated its veritable essence and spirit into mind -and character—that is much; and that is what Rearden had done with -regard to all these tongues. Doubtless this is not the meat upon which -intellectual Cæsars feed; doubtless, too, he did not make that full -use of his attainments which the world approves as “practical,” and -at which he smiled in his odd, tolerant way, as one may smile at the -earnest work of a child making mud pies; yet his was not altogether a -barren pen. Of Bret Harte’s bright band of literary coadjutors on the -old _Overland Monthly_ he was among the first and best, and at -several times, though irregularly and all too infrequently, he enriched -_The Californian_ and other periodicals with noble contributions -in prose and verse. Among the former were essays on Petrarch and -Tennyson; the latter included a poem of no mean merit on the Charleston -earthquake, and another which he had intended to read before the George -H. Thomas Post of the Grand Army of the Republic, but was prevented by -his last illness. Read now in the solemn light that lies along his -path through the Valley of the Shadow, the initial stanza seems to have -a significance almost prophetic: - - Life’s fevered day declines; its purple twilight falling, - Draws lengthening shadows from the broken flanks; - And from the column’s head a viewless chief is calling: - “Guide right—close up the ranks.” - -Some of his papers for the Chitchat Club could not easily be matched -by selections from the magazines and reviews, and if a collection were -made of the pieces that he loved to put out in that wasteful way we -should have a volume of notable reading, distinguished for a sharply -accented individuality of thought and style. - -For a number of years before his death Rearden was engaged in -constructing (the word writing here is inadequate) a work on Sappho, -which, as I understand the matter, was to be a kind of compendium of -all the little that is known and pretty nearly all the much that has -been conjectured and said of her. It was to be profusely illustrated by -master-hands, copiously annotated and enriched with variorum readings—a -book for bookworms. Of its fate I am not advised, but trust that none -of this labor of love may be lost. A work which for many years engaged -the hand and the heart of such a man can not, of whatever else it may -be devoid, lack that distinction which is to literature what it is to -character—its life, its glory and its crown. - - 1892. - - - - - THE PASSING OF THE HORSE - - -Certain admirers of the useful, beautiful, dangerous and senseless -beast known to many of them as the “hoss” are promising the creature a -life of elegant leisure, with opportunities for mental culture which he -has not heretofore enjoyed. Universal use of the automobile in all its -actual and possible forms and for all practical purposes in the world’s -work and pleasure is to relieve the horse from his onerous service and -give him a life of ease “and a perpetual feast of nectared sweets.” - -The horse of the future is to do no work, have no cares, be immune to -the whip, the saddle, the harness and the unwelcome attentions of the -farrier. He is to toil not, neither spin, yet Nebuchadnezzar in all -his glory was not stabled and pastured as he is to be. In brief, the -automobile is going to make of this bad world a horse elysium, where -the tired brute can repose on beds of amaranth and moly, to the eminent -satisfaction of his body and his mind. - -There is reason to fear that all these hopes will not come to -fruitage. It is not seen just why a generation of selfish and somewhat -preoccupied human beings who know not the horse as an animal of -utility should cherish him as a creature of merit. We have already -one pensioner on our bounty who does little that is useful in return -for his keep and an incalculable multitude of things which we would -prefer that he should not do if he could be persuaded to forego -them—the domestic dog, to wit. We are not likely to augment our burden -by addition of the obsolete horse. Those of us who, through stress of -necessity or the promptings of Paris, have tested our teeth upon him -know that he is not very good to eat; he will hardly be cultivated for -the table, like the otherwise inutile and altogether unhandsome pig. -The present vogue of the horse as a comestible, a viand, is without -the knowledge and assent of the consumer, but an abattoir having its -outlying corrals gorged with waiting horses would be an object of -public suspicion and constabular inquiry. As a provision against human -hunger the horse may be considered out of the running. Hard, indeed, -were the heart of the father who would regale the returning prodigal -with a fatted colt. - -There will be no horses in our “leisure class,” for there will be no -horses. The species will be as effectually effaced by the automobile -as if it had run over them. If the new machine fulfills all the hopes -that now begin to cluster about it the man of the future will find a -deal of our literature and art unintelligible. To him the equestrian -statue, for example, will be an even more astonishing phenomenon than -it commonly is to us. - -There is a suggestion in all this to our good and great friends, the -vegetarians. They do not easily tire of pointing out the brutality of -slaughtering animals to get their meat, although it is not obvious -that we could eat them alive. We should breed some of these edible -creatures anyhow, for they serve other needs than those of appetite; -but others, like the late Belgian hare, who virtually passed away as -soon as the breeders and dealers failed to convince us that we were -eating him, would become extinct. Many millions of meat-bearing animals -owe whatever of life we grant them to the fact that we mean eventually -to deprive them of it. Seeing that they are so soon to be “done for,” -they may not understand what they were “begun for”; but if life is a -blessing, as most of us believe and themselves seem to believe, for -they manifest a certain reluctance to give it up, why, even a short -life is a thing to be thankful for. If we had not intended to kill them -they would not have lived at all. - -From this superior point of view even the royal sport of slaughtering -such preserved game as the English pheasant seems a trifle less brutal -than it is commonly affirmed to be by those of us who are not invited -to the killing. This argument, too, has an obvious application in the -instance of that worthy Russian sect that denies the right of man to -enslave horses, oxen, etc. But for man’s fell purpose of enslaving them -there would be none. - -And what about the American negro? Had it not been for the cruel greed -of certain Southern planters and Yankee skippers where would he be? -Would he be anywhere? So we see how all things work together for the -general good, and evil itself is a blessing in disguise. No African -slavery, no American negro; no American negro, no Senator Hanna’s -picturesque bill to pension his surviving ancestors. And without that -we should indubitably be denied the glittering hope of a similar bill -pensioning the entire negro race! - - 1903. - - - - - NEWSPAPERS - - - I - -The influence of some newspapers on republican government is -discernibly good; that of the enormous majority conspicuously -bad. Conducted by rogues and dunces for dunces and rogues, these -are faithful to nothing but the follies and vices of our system, -strenuously opposing every intelligent attempt at their elimination. -They fetter the feet of wisdom and stiffen the prejudices of the -ignorant. They are sycophants to the mob, tyrants to the individual. -They constitute a menace to organized society—a peril to government of -any kind; and if ever in America Anarchy shall beg to introduce his -dear friend Despotism we shall have to thank our vaunted “freedom of -the press” as the controlling spirit of the turbulent time, and Lord -of Misrule. We may then be grateful too that, like a meteor consumed -by friction of the denser atmosphere which its speed compressed, its -brightest blaze will be its last. The despot whose path to power it -illumined will extinguish it with a dash of ink. - - - II - -An elective judiciary is slow to enforce the law against men before -whom its members come every few years in the character of suppliants -for favor; and how abjectly these learned candidates can sue, how -basely bid for a newspaper’s support, one must have been an editor to -know. The press has grown into a tyranny to which the courts themselves -are servile. To rule all classes and conditions of men with an iron -authority the newspapers have only to learn a single trick, against the -terrible power of which, when practised by others, they “continually do -cry,” with apparently never a thought of the advantage it might be to -themselves—the trick of combination. This lesson once learned, Liberty -may bury her own remains, for assuredly none will perform that pious -office for her with impunity. It has not come to that yet, but when -by virtue of controlling a newspaper a man is permitted to print and -circulate thousands of copies of a slander which neither he nor any man -would dare to speak before his victim’s friends a long step has been -taken toward the goal of entire irresponsibility. George Augustus Sala -said that from sea to sea America was woman’s kingdom, which she ruled -with absolute sway. Yet in America the father does not protect his -daughter, the son his mother, the brother his sister nor the husband -his wife, except in the theatrical profession, by way of advertisement. -The noblest and most virtuous lady in the land may be coarsely derided, -her reputation stabbed, her face, figure or toilet made the subject -of a scurrile jest, and no killing ensue, provided the offense be -committed with such circumstances of dissemination and publicity as -types alone can give it. - - - III - -If the editor of a newspaper has any regard for his judgment; that -is, if he has any judgment, he will not indulge in prophecy. The most -conspicuous instances of the folly of predictions are those that occur -in a political “campaign.” There is a venerable and hoary tradition -among those ignorant persons who conduct party organs that the best and -most effective way to make their party win is to assert and re-assert -that it _will_. This infantile notion they act upon _ad nauseam_, and -doubtless lose by it a good many votes for their party that it would -otherwise receive, by making the more credulous among their readers -so sure of success that they do not think it worth while to vote. If -you could convince an unborn babe that it was going to be born with a -silver spoon in its mouth it would not exert itself to procure that -spoon. - -But making all due allowance for what the babes first above mentioned -do from “policy,” it remains true that partisan editors—whose bump of -common sense is countersunk till it would hold a hen’s egg—actually -believe in the inevitable success of their ticket every time and once -more. The election comes and a half of them are shown to their readers -in the true character of persons whose judgment is not worth a pin on -any matter under the sun. The mantle of the prophet having been raped -away from the partisan editor’s shoulders, it is seen that motley is -his only wear, and his readers—themselves of equal incapacity—feel -for him ever thereafter the contempt which he made such sacrifices to -deserve. Does it teach him anything? Something Solomon hath said on -this point—something about a fool and a mortar. - -The editor-person’s defense is somewhat as follows: “The income of my -paper depends not alone upon the favor of its readers, but upon that -of the party managers, and these latter certainly, if not the former, -would withhold their patronage (keeping it in the campaign fund) if -I did not ‘whoop her up.’ They believe in literary brass-banding and -fireworking. They wish to hear ‘Hail to the Chief’ in every editorial -line and in all the dispatches. If I exclude from my columns news -that is not news, but the outgivings of partisan enthusiasm or the -calculated falsehoods of partisan chicanery; if, in short, I refuse to -sell dishonest goods, I lose my chance at the loaves and fishes and my -paper is deposed from its proud position as an organ.” - -As to all that I have nothing to say. If a man choose to defend the -picking of others’ pockets by the plea that it fills his own, and that -if he stop his pal will no longer divide with him, the only cogent -reply that I know of is to call the police. - -As to the “general reader,” who is not entirely a scoundrel nor -altogether a fool, he requires no assurances of success to keep his -courage up. In order to retain his favor it is unnecessary to seem no -wiser than himself and to share with him the dirty last ditch of his -broken hope every few years. The notion that an editor must “identify” -himself with all the wild and fallacious hopes of his readers, with -all their blind, brute prejudices and with the punishment of them, is -a discreditable tradition of the newspaper business, having nothing -in it. The traditions of every business are the creation of little, -timid men whose half-success is achieved, not by their methods, but in -spite of them, and because of the scarcity of men of brains. If these -were plentiful there would be nothing left for the traditionaries to -accomplish. The man of brains makes his success by the clarity of his -understanding: by discerning beneath the traditions the principles, -and, ignoring the former, applying the latter in his own way—which his -competitors and successors fondly believe they can imitate by following -his methods. In nothing has a great success, or rather a succession of -great successes, been made except by cutting loose from the traditions -and doing what the veteran experts gasp to observe. - - - IV - -Some years ago—as lately as the presidential contest between Cleveland -and Blaine—it was a cast-iron tradition of journalism that personal -defamation was a necessary and effective aid to success. True, every -newspaper deprecated it in a general way, and rose at it, shrieking -when it hurt; but nearly all practised it and always had done so. -Every political campaign was a disgraceful welter of detraction and -calumniation. To snout out a candidate’s “personal record,” and if it -was found clean befoul it—that was what the partisan editor regarded as -his first and highest duty to his party. The besmirching of candidates -was a tradition sacred and inviolable; it is now a dead practice, and -we have probably seen the last campaign of mud-slinging. The thing -might advantageously have been stopped at any time. The people did -not demand it; they were as decent then as now. The case was that -newspaper men did not know their business; and in respect of many other -disreputable survivals they do not know it now. I could name a full -dozen newspaper traditions now in full and strenuous vitality that are -as needless and mischievous as the vilification of candidates. They -will all die hard, but die they must, for the world will finally fall -into the sun, which will consume them. - - - V - -That the newspapers might with advantage to the community be made -a deal cleaner is a proposition hardly open to question. In my -judgment this could be done without loss to their owners, but that -is an irrelevant consideration. It is not permitted to them to urge -that a decenter course would ruin them, for the community is under -no obligation to make publication of newspapers profitable. To the -editorial argument, “I have to live,” the answer is, “Yes, but not in -that way.” That plea is precisely as valid when made by the burglar. -Every one who has not committed a capital crime has a right to live, -but no one has a right to live by mischief. - -Clean newspapers if enterprising, honest and clever do thrive; so -what is really meant by “the right to live” is the right to live in -luxury—the right to a great income, instead of a smaller one. There -is no such right. If there were it would spare from condemnation the -grocer who sells poisonous goods because there is a demand for them, -the noctivagant Dago crying his rotten tamales, the quack doctor in -pursuit of his patient’s health. There is no such right. - -Charles Dudley Warner said, and it is repeated after him with tireless -iteration, that nearly every publisher of a newspaper is making a -better paper than he can afford to make. That is true, provided (1) -that good newspapers are not so well supported as bad, and (2) that -publishers cannot “afford” to be poor, or only moderately wealthy. Some -of the best and greatest men in the world, including Jesus Christ, have -thought they could afford to be poor. Poverty is not dear at the price -that one pays for it; it is dirt-cheap. Any one can afford it, and many -can not afford to be without it. - -The right to publish news _because_ it is news has no basis in -law nor in morals; nor dare its most intrepid protagonist assert his -claim in consistent practice. Every newspaper man learns almost daily -of occurrences so lurid, of sins so “sensational,” of crimes so awful -that they have immunity from print. The world is not only a good deal -better but a good deal worse than it looks through any newspaper. -An editor has constantly to “draw the line”; he can draw it where -he pleases—nobody is compelling him to “go far” in publication of -immorality. To assert a right to do so; to affirm other compulsion -than curiosity—that is dishonest. It is dishonest to unload his -responsibility upon the shoulders of even the sinners whose sins he -relates. They break the laws of decency, but they do not compel him to. -They do not force him to expose for sale narratives of their offenses; -they prefer that he do not. He has no mandate to make the way of the -transgressor hard: we have laws for that. He has only the mandate of -his pocket; if in obeying it he damage or disgust or distress the best -persons among whom he lives he can not plead the profit that he makes -in gratification of the others. It is no way desirable that they be -gratified. - - - - - A BENIGN INVENTION - - - I - -The phonograph has not accomplished all that was expected of it, yet -it has proved a most interesting and valuable invention. One of its -achievements is of the nature of a revelation: it has proved that even -the most loquacious person is unacquainted with the sound of his own -voice. As reproduced by the machine, one’s voice seems to be that of -a stranger: his ear does not recognize it, and he is with difficulty -convinced that he hears himself as others hear him. Commonly, it is -said, the effect is deeply disappointing; the tones are not so rich and -mellow as he had a right to expect, and he leaves the instrument with a -chastened spirit and a broken pride. - -The instrument has herein a broad field of usefulness. As a teacher -of humility it takes rank with the parson, the flirt, the mirror and -the banana peel on the sidewalk. It humbles the orator and strews -repentant ashes on the head of the ardent young woman who has taken -lessons in elocution but none in forbearance. The amateur who has -always a cold when pressed to sing takes on an added reluctance having -in it an element of sincerity. In the meek taciturnity of the “good -conversationalist” society finds a new edification and delight. - -For these and similar benefactions let us be truly thankful; but we -should not hope for too much. The blessing is bright, but it may not -be lasting. It is not in human nature to wear sackcloth and ashes as a -permanent apparel. In the valley of humility are no old residents. As -much as is herein affirmed of the phonograph might with equal reason -have been expected from its elder brother, the photograph. “Who,” it -might once have been asked, “will have the hardihood to go unveiled and -unblushing after experiencing the awful revelations of the camera?” -Alas! man was created upright, but he has sought out many improvements. -No sooner had the merciless sun-picture begun to take the conceit -out of us than some ingenious malefactor rushed to the rescue with a -process called “retouching,” whereby the once honest camera was made -to lie like a lover; men and women resumed their vanity, revised and -enlarged it, and made it a means of afflicting their friends with -portraits that shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire -and brimstone. - -The ingenuity that invented the phonograph can adapt it to our need -and our hope by taking the sting out of it. Mr. Edison will doubtless -discern a commercial advantage in devising a method of “retouching” -the little waxen cylinder—so smoothing its asperities that it will -give off tones and cadences radically different from, and infinitely -superior to, those that it received. The most rasping nasal twang will -be transmuted “into something rich and strange.” The catarrhal accent -of the Boston maiden will reappear as that “vocal velvet” wherewith -the British blondes of the “Black Crook” period enravished the soul of -Richard Grant White. The irritating stammerer will ejaculate into the -machine his impedimentary utterances and get them back in a smooth rill -of speech—a fluent, flute-like warble. We shall easily learn to accept -these pleasing vocal fictions, deriving from the falsified record a -rich and high delight. Enamored of what we conceive to be the music of -our own voices, and persuaded of their happy effect upon others, we -shall cultivate loquacity as an art and practice prolixity as a virtue. -In the retouched phonogram lurk the promise and potency of a pleasure -incomparably more mischievous than the confusion of tongues on the -plain of Shinar. - - - II - -There appears to be no reason to doubt that Mr. Edison’s most -remarkable invention, the theoscope, has a great future before it. -An instrument that enables us to see another as he sees himself must -accomplish great good by promoting clear understandings between man and -man, and subjecting estimates of personal character to the chance of -revision. As matters now stand, and have stood from time immemorial, -our opinion of even a man whom we have known from infancy is formed by -a series of what are known to journalism as “Star Chamber proceedings,” -in which the man himself is not heard with that fulness and frankness -that are desirable. It is hardly fair either to convict or to acquit -him—nay, even to honor or reward him—upon indirect testimony, -introduced by him for another purpose. True justice obviously requires -that A in making up his mind about B should in some way, if possible, -avail himself of the advantage of looking into a mind already made -up—a mind enriched and instructed by longer and nearer observation of -the subject upon which light is sought: in short, B’s mind. If Mr. -Edison’s invention make this as practicable as (if practicable) it is -imperative, he has indeed brought “joy to the afflicted” in a way to -make the proprietor of a patent medicine grow green with envy. - -That he should call his marvelous and delicate appliance a theoscope -appears at first thought a reasonless and wanton exercise of the -right of nomenclature; but on reflection the name seems singularly -appropriate. “Theoscope,” I venture to inform the reader unacquainted -with Greek, is from the words Θεός, god, and σκοπειν, to view. The -theoscope is therefore an instrument with which to look at gods. When -one man sees another as the other sees himself, the image, naturally, -is one of supernatural dignity and importance—one worthy of divine -honors, even if ’tis not in mortals to command them. One hardly knows -which to admire the more, the ingenuity that invented the theoscope or -the inspiration that named it. - -Most readers are more or less disposed to agree with Burns that the -gift to see ourselves as others see us would from many a blunder free -us, and foolish notion; but few, probably, have reflected on the -considerable advantage of seeing others as they see themselves. It -seems certain, for example, that it would notably minish the acerbities -of debate if each of two disputants could behold in the other, not -an obstinate, pig-headed malefactor endeavoring by unfair means to -establish an idiotic proposition, but a high-hearted philanthropist, -benevolent and infallible, tenderly concerned for an erring opponent’s -reclamation and intellectual prosperity. The general use of the -theoscope in newspaper offices can hardly fail profoundly to modify -and mollify discussion, in range and heat. When the editor of the -_Cow County Opinionator_ has written down the editor of the -_Hog’s-Back Allegationist_ as “a loathsome contemporary whose -moral depravity is only exceeded by his social degradation, and whose -skill in horse-stealing has been thought worthy of record in the books -of a court which his ill-gotten gold was unable to corrupt,” it may -occur to him to ring up his enemy and inveigle him to the other end -of the apparatus. The god-like image of a blameless man and generous -rival which will then confront him he may know in his soul to be an -incredibly counterfeit presentment, but the moral effect of looking -at a noble work of the imagination is to soften the heart and elevate -the sentiments: he will probably find something in his written censure -which he would willingly let die save for the precious example of its -incomparable style. - -If the theoscope may be expected to work so desirable moral changes in -the man at the receiving instrument, what may we not hope as to its -influence on the person before the transmitter? To be seen at last -as one really is (according to one’s own belief) must necessarily be -supremely gratifying to all who have known and bewailed the opacity of -the glass through which they have hitherto been seen darkly. No longer -doomed to chafe under the disability that forbids expression, our -natures must expand to something nearly as great and good as that other -self which we can send over the wire by merely touching a button. When -a famous cartoonist had the justice to offset his weekly caricatures by -representing his favorite victims once as they would have represented -themselves he doubtless did something toward discrediting his own -conceptions and justifying theirs. There are persons whom nothing will -reform, but it would be possible to make a long list of “prominent -citizens” who would be lifted to the breezy altitudes of a higher and -better life by the consciousness, however erroneous, of the power so to -present their true personalities that he who runs may read, instead of -so that he who reads runs, as now. - - - - - ACTORS AND ACTING - - - I - -Was Sir Henry Irving a great actor? Possibly; there is abundant -testimony, little evidence. The testimony of Englishmen is to be -received with caution, for Irving was an Englishman; that of Americans -with greater caution, for the same reason. The narrowest provincialism -in the world is that of great cities, and London is the greatest -city. What London says all England repeats; and America affirms it on -oath. It is understood, as a matter of course, that in the judgment -of England the best English actor, writer or artist is the best in -the world. If one has conquered his way to the foremost place in the -approval of a small London clique, not, in the case of an actor, -exceeding a half-dozen men promoted to power by a process of selection -with which ability has had nothing to do, one has conquered half the -world. It would be easy to name the half-dozen who made Henry Irving’s -fame and set it sailing o’er the seas with bellying canvas and flag -apeak. On this side no one ever demanded the ship’s papers. This is -Echoland, home of the ditto-maniac. We are freemen, but not bigoted -ones. - -For aught I know Irving may have been as good an actor as his -countrymen who saw him thought him. Nay, he may have been half as good -as my countrymen who did not see him think him. I myself saw him play -only two or three times. He was not then a good actor, but that was -a long time before his death; judgment from the fading memory of a -performance decades ago would hardly do. Wherein, then, lies excuse -of this present infervency—this cry _qui vive_ at the outpost of -the camp? Herein. Not only were Irving’s credentials defective; there -is a strong presumption that the defect was irreparable—that they -“certificate a sham.” This defect was racial. The English are, if not -an unemotional, an undemonstrative people. When sad the Englishman does -not weep, when pleased he does not laugh. Anger him and he will neither -stamp nor tear his hair; startle him and he jumps not an inch. His -conversation is destitute of vivacity and unaided by gesticulation. -His face does not light up when he deems it his duty to smile. His -transports of affection are moderated to the seemly ceremony of shaking -hands; though he is said sometimes to kiss his grandmother if she is -past seventy and will let him. Removed from his brumous environment, -the English human being becomes in time accessible to light and -heat—penetrable by the truth that all manifestation of emotion and -sentiment is not necessarily vulgar; but in the tight little isle -Stolidity holds her immemorial sway without other change in the -administrative function than occasional substitution of the stare of -deprecation for the stare of complacency. - -To suppose that great actors can come of a race like that is to -trifle with the laws of nature. Acting is preëminently the art of -expression—expression of the sentiments and emotions by speech, look, -gesture, movement—in every way that one person can address the eye and -ear of another. It requires the acutest and alertest sensibilities, -faculties all responsive to subtle stirs of feeling. Are these English -characteristics? Clearly not; they are those of the peoples that (in -England) are despised as “volatile,” “garrulous,” “excitable”—the -French and Italians, for examples, who have produced the only really -good actors of modern times. Our own actors are better than the -English, but not good; one sees better acting about a dining-table -in Paris than has ever been seen on the stage of London or New -York—excepting when it is held by players in whose veins is the fire of -Southern suns, whose nerves dance to the rhythmic beat of Mediterranean -ripples and - - keep, with Capri’s sunny fountains, - Perpetual holiday. - -One pale globule of our cold Teutonic blood queers the whole -performance. For German, English and American actors society should -provide “homes,” with light employment, good plain food and, when they -keep their mouths shut and their limbs quiet, thunders of artificial -applause. - - - II - -Few respectable shams are to me more distasteful than the affectation -of delight in the performance of an actor who speaks his lines in a -tongue unknown to the audience, as did sometimes the late Signor Rossi -in the rôle of “Otello.” It is of the essence and validity of acting -that it address the understanding through the ear as well as the eye. -The tones of an actor’s voice, however pleasing, do not address the -understanding at all without intelligible words; they are no more -than the notes of a violin—the pleasure they give is purely sensual, -and the speaker might as well articulate no words at all. A play, or -a part in a play, performed in unfamiliar speech is hardly better -than a pantomime, and those who profess to find in it an intellectual -gratification—well, they may be very estimable persons, for aught I -know. - -It is not enough, in order to enjoy “Othello” or “Hamlet,” that the -audience have a general familiarity with the part; their knowledge -of it must be minute and precise. They must know of what particular -sentiment a facial expression is the visible exponent; of what -particular word a gesture is the accompaniment. Else how can they know -that the look is natural, the motion impressive? If one had memorized -the part _verbatim_, and the meaning of every word, the accidental -omission of a sentence would break the chain, and all that the eye -should afterward report of the passage would be meaningless. How shall -you know that the actor “suits the action to the word” if you know not -the word? To a mind ignorant of Italian the “Otello” of Signor Rossi -may have been a noble exercise in guessing; as acting it can have had -no value. - - - III - -We are all familiar with the hoary old dictum that the public has no -concern with the private lives of the show folk. I must ask leave to -differ. I must insist that the public has a most serious interest in -the chastity of girls and the fidelity of wives. It is not good for -the public that its women be taught by conspicuous example that to -her who possesses a single talent, or any number of talents, a life -of shame is no bar to public adulation. Every young and inexperienced -woman believes herself to have some commanding quality which properly -fostered will bring her fame. If she knows that she can do nothing -else she thinks that she can write poetry. Is not the father mad who -shows his ambitious daughter how little men really care for virtue—how -tolerant they are of vice if it be gilded with genius? Worse and most -shameful of all, women who clutch away their skirts from contact with -some poor devil of a girl who having soiled herself is unable to sing -herself out of the mire, will take their pure young girls to see the -world worshiping at the feet of a wanton and her paramour because, -forsooth, both are gifted and one is beautiful. Let these tender -younglings lay well to heart the lesson in charity. Let them not forget -that in their parents’ judgment an uncommon physical formation, joined -with an exceptional talent, excuses an immoral life. - -Talent? Beauty alone is all-sufficient. Was not the whole eastern half -of this continent, at one time, overhung with clouds of incense burned -at the shrine of Beauty unadorned with virtue? Did not the western -half give it hospitable welcome and set the wreath upon a brow still -reeking of a foreign lecher’s royal kisses and the later salutes of -an impossible gambler? She was not even an actress—she could play -nothing but the devil. The foundation of her fame and fortune was -scandal—scandal lacking even the excuse of love. She had the sagacity -to boast of a distinction that she enjoyed in common with a hundred -less thrifty dames. She knew the shortest cut to the American heart -and pocket. She knew that American fathers, husbands, brothers, sons -and lovers would be so base as to come and bring her gold, and that -American mothers, wives, sisters, daughters and sweethearts would be -bad enough to accompany them, to gaze without a blush at the posings of -a simpleton recommended by a prince. She gathered her sheaves and went -away. She came back to the re-ripening harvest, hoping that God would -postpone the destruction of a corrupt land until she could get out of -it. - -Heaven forbid that I should set myself up as a censor of any offenders -save those who have the hardihood to continue infamous; I only beg to -point out that when Christ shielded the woman taken in adultery he did -not tell her that if she were a good singer she might go her way and -sin more. That is how I answer the ever-ready sneer about “casting -the first stone.” That is how I cast it. If the fallen woman, finding -herself possessed of a single talent, had gone into business as a show -without reforming her private morals Christ would not have been found -standing all night in line to buy tickets for himself and the Blessed -Virgin. - -I am for preserving the ancient, primitive distinction between -right and wrong. The virtues of Socrates, the wisdom of Aristotle, -the examples of Marcus Aurelius and Jesus Christ are good enough to -engage my admiration and rebuke my life. From my fog-scourged and -plague-smitten morass I lift reverent eyes to the shining summits of -eternal truth, where they stand; I strain my senses to catch the law -that they deliver. In every age and clime vice and folly have shared -the throne of a double dominance, dictating customs and fashions. At -no time has the devil been idle, but his freshest work few eyes are -gifted with the faculty to discover. We trace him where the centuries -have hardened his tracks into history, but round about us his noiseless -footfalls awaken no sense of his near activity. - -The subject is too serious to be humorously discussed. This -glorification of the world’s higher harlotage is one of the great -continental facts that no ingenuity, no sophistry, no sublimity of -lying can circumnavigate. It marks a civilization that is ripe and -rotten. It characterizes an age that has lost the landmarks of right -reason. These actors and actresses of untidy lives—they reek audibly. -We should not speak of going to see them; “I am going to smell Miss -Molocha Montflummery in ‘Juliet’”—that would adequately describe the -moral situation. Brains and hearts these persons have none; they are -destitute of manners, modesty and sense. The sight of their painted -faces, the memory of their horrible slang, their simian cleverness, -their vulgar “_aliases_,” their dissolute lives, half emotion and -half wine—these are a sickness to any cleanly soul. - -Moreover, I advance the belief that any woman who publicly, for gain -or glory, charity or caprice, makes public exhibition of any talent -or grace that she may happen to have, maculates the chastity of her -womanhood, and is thenceforth unworthy of a manly love. No man of -sensibility but feels a twinge on reading his wife’s, or his sister’s, -or his daughter’s name in print; none but trembles to hear it upon -the lips of strangers. You might easily prove the absurdity of this -feeling; but she is the wisest, and cleanest, and sweetest, and best -beloved who is not at the pains to disregard it. Gentlemen, charge your -glasses—here’s a health to the woman that is not a show. - - 1893. - - - - - THE VALUE OF TRUTH - - -The Texas Legislature once considered a bill that was of some -importance to liars. It provided that if a man called another a liar -and the latter disclosed his sense of the situation by “putting a -head on” the former, the State would hold him guiltless of offense. -Texan public opinion naturally viewed it with alarm as an attempt -to introduce alien and doubtful customs by substitution of the fist -for the bowie-knife. It appears, though, that several States of the -Union have laws against calling one a liar. In Virginia, Kentucky and -Arkansas, it is a misdemeanor punishable by fine. In Mississippi, South -Carolina and West Virginia it is ground for civil action for damages. -Georgia makes it a felony if it is untrue. In none of these states, -apparently, and nowhere else, is it either a misdemeanor or a felony to -_be_ a liar. That seems rather queer, does it not? I wonder why it -is so. - -Now that I think of it, I seem always to have observed (and possibly -the phenomenon has not been overlooked by all others) that the man whom -the word “liar” maddens to crime is commonly not maddened to anything -in particular by the consciousness of being one. - -The philosophy of the matter is that truthfulness, like all the other -virtues, takes rank as such because in the long run, and in the greater -number of instances, it is expedient. Whatever is, generally speaking, -expedient, that is to say, conducive to the welfare of the race, comes -to be considered a virtue; whatever, with only the same limitations, -does not promote, but obstructs, the welfare of the race is held to be -a sin. Morality has, and can have, no other basis than expediency. A -virtue is not an end; it is a means; the end is that only conceivable -welfare, happiness. To increase the sum of happiness—that is the only -worthy ambition, the only creditable motive. Whatever does that is -right; whatever does the contrary is wrong. An act that does neither -the one nor the other has no moral character at all. That an act can -be right or wrong without regard to its consequences is to a sane -understanding an unthinkable proposition. It is difficult to imagine a -world in which happiness would commonly be promoted by falsehood, but -in such a world falsehood would indubitably be considered, and rightly -considered, a virtue, and to be called a truth-teller would be resented -as an insult, especially by those most irreclaimably addicted to the -habit. - -During a recent trial of a postal-service “grafter” a witness confessed -with candor that one of his commercial habits was that of saying “the -thing that is not.” “You can’t help telling lies in business,” he -explained. But you can; you can tell the truth for the good of your -soul and make an assignment for the benefit of your creditors. - -To be serious, no man of sense really believes that falsehood is -necessary to success in business. The practices and customs of every -trade and profession are those which commend themselves to approval -of small men, men with an impediment in their thought. It is they who -virtually conduct the affairs of the world, for there are too few of -the other sort to count for much. These little fellows, therefore, -“set the fashion,” determine the ethics and traditions in business, in -law, in medicine, in politics, in religion, in journalism. The most -conspicuous characteristic of this pigmy band is a predisposition to -small deceits. The first word that rises to their lips is a lie; the -last word that leaves them is a lie. Go into the first shop you find -and ask for something not kept there, but which you know all about. -Observe the salesman’s, or, alas, saleswoman’s, alacrity in telling you -a lie to induce you to abandon your preference in favor of something -that is kept there. Do you fancy it is different in dealing with those -higher in the scale of commercial being? A wealthy and most respectable -business man once told me that among the two or three scores of similar -men with whom he daily dealt there was not one that he could believe; -he had to try to discern their secret wishes and intentions through the -fog of falsehood in which they sought to conceal them. He had himself a -method quite as misleading; he deceived them by telling the truth. They -couldn’t imagine a man doing a thing like that, so they disbelieved him -and he got the better of them. - -That is his account of the matter. Perhaps it is true—he may have -wanted me to think him a liar. Anyhow, the method of deceit that he -professed has sometimes been successfully followed in large affairs, -notably by the late Prince Bismarck. When he entered the field of -diplomacy he found it such a nest of liars that for centuries no man -in it had believed another. He could deceive only by being truthful, -and for many years he fooled all the diplomats by his amazing and -confusing candor in disclosing his desires and intentions. If he had -lived a thousand years he would have revolutionized diplomacy and would -then have reverted, with a special advantage to himself, to the senior -practices of the trade. But he died and his method died with him. - -If truth is so valuable why do not all truthful men succeed? Because -not all truthful men have brains. Not all men of truth and brains have -energy. Not all men of truth and brains and energy have opportunity. -Not all men of truth and brains and energy and opportunity are lucky. -And finally, not all men of truth and brains and energy and opportunity -and luck particularly care to succeed; some of us like to ignore the -gifts of nature and dawdle through life in something of the peace that -we expect after death. Moreover, there is a difference of opinion as -to what is success. I know an abandoned wretch who considers himself -prosperous when happy; do you know any one who considers himself happy -when prosperous? - -In the sweat of their consciences most men eat bread. I doubt if they -find it particularly sweet, even when, having a whole loaf, they see -a neighbor with none. They are tormented with a craving for pillicum. -(There is no such dish as pillicum—that is why they crave it.) Go to, -all ye that pursue shadows, or fly from them. Learn to be content with -what you have. True, if all were that way there would be an end to -civilization, which is the daughter of discontent and worthy of its -mother; but that is not your affair. You are custodians of your own -happiness and have a right to peace, health and sweet sleep o’ nights. -You are not bound to take account of hypothetical perils; it will be -time to consider the extinction of civilization when you observe that -all are becoming content. Contentment is a virtue which at present -seems to be confined mainly to the wise and the infamous. - - 1903. - - - - - SYMBOLS AND FETISHES - - I - - -Heraldry dies hard. It is of purely savage origin, having its roots in -the ancient necessity of tribal classification. Before our ancestors -had a written language their tribes and families found it convenient -to distinguish themselves from one another by rude pictures of such -objects as they knew about, with improvements by the artist of the -period—the six-legged lion, the two-headed eagle, the spear-point lily -and the thistle-with-a-difference. The modifications were infinite; -accessories developed into essentials and the science of heraldry was -evolved, to explain what the pictures were and expound their meaning. -Like the priests and the medicine men of all times, and the lawyers -and all other professionals of our time, heralds were swift to discern -a profit in complicating their fad with an unthinkable multitude of -invented additions and technical shibboleths intelligible to nobody -but themselves; and to-day, when the entire scheme has long ceased -to have any practical relation to the lives of men and the polity of -nations, there are in Europe high officers of government charged with -the duty of its exposition and conservation, and with the custody of -its ludicrous muniments and paraphernalia. And men and women accounted -intelligent and modest are proud of devices owing their origin to -barbarism, their signification to the thrifty ingenuity of drones and -leeches and their perpetuation to the same naked and unashamed vanity -as that of men who decorate their breasts with “orders” and “crosses” -certifying their personal merit. - -Where these things exist as “survivals” their use is at least a -supportable stupidity; but in America, where they come by cold-blooded -adoption essentially simian, they are offensive. Many of the devices -upon the seals of our states are no less ridiculous than those used -(or the use of any) by some of our “genteel” families to hint at an -illustrious descent. Our national coat-of-arms itself is almost enough -to make a self-respecting American forswear his allegiance. From a -shield with an eagle on it we have developed an eagle with a shield -on it. We may call it the American eagle, but it is the same old bird -that tore the heart out of Gaul and the gall out of Carthage; the -same that has whetted his bloody beak upon the bones of a thousand -tribes now extinct; the same that was fearfully and wonderfully drawn -in berry-juice upon rocks to glad the vanity of the shock-headed -cave-dweller when the browsing mammoth was flushed with rose in the -dawning of time. - - - II - -Says one writing of the “Stars and Stripes”: - -“The American flag is an emblem not only of freedom but of -civilization; and as such, it ought to be beloved and worshiped by -all who live under it or who in any wise receive the benefit which it -confers on mankind.” - -That is a pretty fair sample of what one can be brought to feel by -inability to think without confusion. Human nature presents no more -striking characteristic than the tendency to neglect the substance -and consider the shadow; to forget the end, in contemplation and -approval of the means; to substitute principle for action and ceremony -for principle; to attribute to the symbol the virtues of the thing -symbolized. It evidently did not occur to the patriotic gentleman who -wrote the quoted sentence, and much else in the same spirit, that the -flag being only an “emblem” of freedom and civilization (our kind -of freedom and civilization, by the way) is not at all entitled to -the love and worship that he solicits for it; these should go, not -to the flag, but to the things of which it is an emblem—to freedom -and civilization. His idolatrous tendency and his truly heathenish -confusion of mind are still further shown in his reference of “the -benefit which it” (the flag, observe) “confers on mankind.” His is a -typical utterance: the vestigial idolatry of the cave-dweller and the -sylvan nomad is still strong in the race, and flag-worship is one of -its most reasonless manifestations. Everywhere and always in these days -of war we hear and read words about the flag which a thinking human -being would be ashamed to utter of an actual beneficent deity. There is -no room whatever for doubt that what the average patriot acclaims and -honors is the actual colored silk or bunting, not what it represents. -To the conception of abstractions he comes unfitly equipped, but he can -see a tinted rag. I do not know that any harm comes of his fetishism; -it is noted merely as an interesting and significant phenomenon—one -of a thousand proving the brevity of our advance along the line of -progress toward enlightenment. It is of a piece of the average human -being’s more or less sincere respect for truth, justice, chastity and -so forth, not as practicable means to the end of human happiness, but -as things creditable and desirable in themselves, even when subversive -of their actual purpose by promoting misery. - -Let the flag flap, and let “our ill-starred fellow citizens” who are -unable to get a firm mental grasp on what it stands for knuckle down -upon their knees before it and lift the voice. But, God bless them! -how they would be shocked to observe the indifference with which -it is regarded by soldiers in battle! One of the sharpest and most -righteous rebukes I ever got from high authority was for permitting my -color-sergeant to flaunt his gaudy symbol in the face of a battery. -To civilian orators and poets the flag is sacred; to the intelligent -soldier it is merely useful: it marks the battle line, preserves the -unity of the regiment and “inspires” the soldier that is unintelligent. - -A singularly disagreeable instance of fetishism is related of the -Hon. William Jennings Bryan. While in Tokio, the story goes—among -his admirers—he purchased a stool upon which Admiral Togo had sat at -a Shinto ceremony. The story has it that the sale was reluctantly -made, for the stool had been long a sacred object before it was newly -consecrated by contact with the person of the renowned sailor; but the -custodians did not feel at liberty to disappoint so illustrious an -American as Mr. Bryan. On learning this, the great man magnanimously -returned it and contented himself, as well as he could, with a common -chair upon which Togo had sat in a restaurant. - -It is disagreeable to think of Mr. Bryan in the character of a -sycophantic souvenir hunter. It is disagreeable to think that even -the humblest and obscurest American citizen can have so little -self-respect. Anthropolatry is but a shade less base and barbarous -than that other primitive religion, fetishism; and the two, as in -this instance, are often in coexistence. No superstition seems ever -wholly to die. Both these are rife and rampant in the civilization -of to-day, and one can name, offhand, a dozen of their customary -manifestations by persons who would be shocked by the revelation of -their close relationship to the shagpate cave-dweller, the remoter -_pithecanthropos erectus_, and, at the back of them both, the -quadrumanal arborean with a vestigial swim-bladder. - - - - - DID WE EAT ONE ANOTHER? - - -There is no doubt of it. The unwelcome truth has been long suppressed -by interested parties who find their account in playing sycophant to -that self-satisfied tyrant Modern Man; but to the impartial philosopher -it is as plain as the nose upon the elephant’s face that our ancestors -ate one another. The custom of the Fiji Islanders, which is their only -stock-in-trade, their only claim to notoriety, is a relic of barbarism; -but it is a relic of our barbarism. - -Man is naturally a carnivorous animal. That none but green-grocers -will dispute. That he was formerly less vegetarian in his diet than -at present, is clear from the fact that market gardening increases in -the ratio of civilization. So we may safely assume that at some remote -period Man subsisted on an exclusively flesh diet. Our uniform vanity -has given us the human mind as the acme of intelligence, the human face -and figure as the standard of beauty. Of course we cannot deny to human -fat and lean an equal superiority over beef, mutton and pork. It is -plain that our meat-eating ancestors would think in this way, and being -unrestrained by the mawkish sentiment attendant on high civilization, -would act habitually on the obvious suggestion. _A priori_, -therefore, it is clear that we ate ourselves. - -Philology is about the only thread that connects us with the -prehistoric past. By picking up and piecing together the scattered -remnants of language, we form a patchwork of wondrous design and -significance. Consider the derivation of the word “sarcophagus,” and -see if it be not suggestive of potted meats. Observe the significance -of the phrase “sweet sixteen.” What a world of meaning lurks in the -expression “she is as sweet as a peach,” and how suggestive of luncheon -are the words “tender youth.” A kiss is but a modified bite, and a fond -mother, when she says her babe is “almost good enough to eat,” merely -shows that she is herself only a trifle too good to eat it. - -These evidences might be multiplied _ad infinitum_; but if enough -has been said to induce one human being to revert to the diet of his -forefathers the object of this essay is accomplished. - - 1868. - - - - - THE BACILLUS OF CRIME - - -For a number of years it has been known to all but a few ancient -physicians—survivals from an exhausted régime—that all disease is -caused by _bacilli_, which worm themselves into the organs that -secrete health and enjoin them from the performance of that rite. The -medical conservatives mentioned attempt to whittle away the value and -significance of this theory by affirming its inadequacy to account -for such disorders as broken heads, sunstroke, superfluous toes, -home-sickness, burns and strangulation on the gallows; but against the -testimony of so eminent bacteriologers as Drs. Koch and Pasteur their -carping is as that of the impatient angler. The _bacillus_ is not -to be denied; he has brought his blankets and is here to stay until -evicted. Doubtless we may confidently expect his eventual supersession -by a fresher and more ingenious disturber of the physiological peace, -but he is now chief among ten thousand evils and the one altogether -lovely, and it is futile to attempt to read him out of the party. - -It follows that in order to deal intelligently with the criminal -impulse in our afflicted fellow-citizens we must discover the -_bacillus_ of crime, which we now know is merely disease with -another name. To that end we think that the bodies of hanged assassins -and such patients of low degree as have been gathered to their fathers -by the cares of public office or consumed by the rust of inactivity -in prison should be handed over to a microscopical society for -examination. The bore, too, offers a fine field for research, and might -justly enough be examined alive. Whether there is one general—or as the -ancient and honorable orders prefer to say, “grand”—_bacillus_, -producing a general (or grand) criminal impulse generating a -multitude of sins, or an infinite number of well defined and several -_bacilli_, each inciting to a particular crime, is a question -to the determination of which the most distinguished microscopist -might be proud to devote the powers of his eye. If the latter is -the case it will somewhat complicate the treatment, for clearly the -patient afflicted with chronic assassination will require different -medicines from those which might be efficacious in a gentleman -suffering from constitutional theft or the desire to represent his -district in Congress. But it is permitted to us to hope that all the -crimes, like all the arts, are essentially one; that murder, commerce -and respectability are but different symptoms of the same physical -disorder, at the back of which is a microbe vincible to a single -medicament, albeit the same awaits discovery. - -In the fascinating theory of the unity of crime we may not unreasonably -hope to find another evidence of the brotherhood of man, another -spiritual bond tending to draw the several classes of society more -closely together. If such should be the practical effect of the great -truth something will have been gained, even if the discovery of a -suitable medicine to restore our enemies to health be delayed until all -too late to save them from rude and primitive treatment by the sheriff. - - 1893. - - - - - THE GAME OF BUTTON - - -Among the countless evils besetting us in our passage through this -vale of tears “to where beyond these voices there is peace,” the -button holds a conspicuous place, and is apparently inaccessible to -the spirit of reform. Less shocking than war, pestilence or famine, -less destructive than the Dingley tariff and less irritating than -the Indiana novel, it is thought by many observers to be, in the sum -of its effects in reducing the gayety of nations, superior to any of -these maleficent agencies, and by some to excel them all together. In -the persistent currency of the story of the man who killed himself -because of his weariness in buttoning and unbuttoning his clothes we -have strong confirmatory testimony to the button’s “natural magic -and dire property on wholesome life.” The story itself appears to -be destitute of authentication, and but for its naturalness, its -inherent credibility and the way that these bring it home to men’s -business and bosoms it would probably have had as evanescent a vogue -as the immortal works discovered weekly by the literary critics of -the newspapers. As it is, this simple and touching tale will probably -live as long as any language, possibly as long as the button itself. -For the button is apparently immortal. It has struck root deeply into -human conservatism—more deeply, I am constrained to admit, than it has, -generally speaking, into the textile fabrics with which it is commonly -but somewhat precariously connected. - -That the button is in some sense a benefaction is not lightly to be -denied. In its unostentatious way, and when it stays on, it does a -good deal for the comfort of mankind, as, the police permitting, one -may readily convince himself by walking a few blocks without its -artful aid. Its splendid opportunities of usefulness, however, are -the creations, not so much of our ingenuity, as of our limitations. -If the human race had been born omniscient (in the tops of trees, -as is thought to be held by the Darwinians) instead of achieving -omniscience too lately to overcome the button habit, we should not have -had the primitive appliance thrust upon us, for we should never have -thrust ourselves into the tubular clothing which seems to require its -ministrations. Even in the endurance of that capital affliction we are -not intelligently aided by the button. It badly serves a needless need -and the common sense of the race cries out against it as clumsy, ugly, -inefficient and frequently absent from duty at a critical moment which -it has malevolently foreseen. It is better than nothing, doubtless, but -when considered along with the hook-and-eye, for example, it breaks -down at every point of the comparison. The tailor who, disregarding -the mandates of conservatism and tradition, and filled with a divine -compassion for his race, should rise to the great occasion and with -one foot upon the sea and the other upon the land declare that buttons -should be no more would accomplish an enduring fame and dispute -with Washington and draw-poker the first place in the hearts of his -countrymen. He would have only to replace the button, where it serves -as a fastener, with some simple adaptation of the hook-and-eye, and -where it exists as a mere survival (as for example at the back of a -frock-coat, where it once assisted in supporting the sword-belt) put -nothing at all, and the millions yet to be would rise up and call him -blest. - -I have preferred to consider this matter with reference mainly to the -woes and wants of the coarser sex, but the button is known to woman. -With the charming superiority to reason which her detractors term -perversity she prefers it on the left-hand side of her garments, but it -dominates her life and poisons her peace none the less for that; albeit -she offers herself the solace of turning it into an ornament more or -less fearfully and wonderfully made. - -In modern religious history women and buttons have a connection which -is as singular as interesting. To the great movement which resulted in -establishing Protestantism the name “Reformation” is not universally -deemed appropriate, but there is one of his many aspects in which -Martin Luther may be contemplated by all as a true reformer. Before -his day women invariably used the hook-and-eye exclusively, which was -well enough. Unfortunately, however, they had conceived the remarkable -notion that this simple and useful appliance for joining together what -man is not permitted to put asunder, would abate something of its -efficacy if placed where reason would naturally suggest. All women’s -dresses were made to hook behind, and in being fastened required the -services of another person than the wearer. For this reason, and -because God had made him so, Luther assailed the custom with all the -fire and fierceness of his polemical nature. So long as women could not -dress themselves without assistance, he argued, they must be slaves, -and their spiritual natures must remain undeveloped until they should -fasten their frocks in front. Calvin, on the contrary, found nothing in -the Scriptures authorizing women to enter their clothing backward and -set his face like a flint against the impious innovation. The contest -between the disciples of these two mighty minds was waged with great -bitterness, notwithstanding the efforts of the gentle Melancthon, who -stood for peace and tried to part them in the middle, enacting, indeed, -the role of Mr. Facing-both-ways. In the end Luther conquered. All good -Protestant dames and maidens save those of his antagonist’s immediate -following adopted his views and eventually the Catholic ladies swung -into line, too. But in some of the dark corners of Europe and America -a vestige of the Calvinist influence survives, and ladies’ gowns open -behind like the chrysalis of a locust. - -The one change entailed another; for many years—until, indeed, the -button habit had become invincible—it did not occur to any of the -fair sex that the hook-and-eye could be used in front as well as -surreptitiously behind the back. That truth has now penetrated the -female mind and sometimes warms it into action: but for the most part -lovely woman is infested with the parasitic button as badly as the male -of her species, and of neither does it manifest a disposition to let -go. It has usually its buttonhole to bear it company, and doubtless -looks forward to a long season of domestic felicity and profound repose -while engaged in the business of breaking up families and promoting -breaches of the peace by sapping the foundation of temper, leveling the -outworks of patience and desolating the whole domain of the Christian -virtues. - - - - - SLEEP - - -It is hardly a “burning question”; it is not even a “problem that -presses for solution.” Nevertheless, to minds not incurious as to the -future it has a mild, pleasing interest, like that of the faintly heard -beating of the bells of distant cows that will come in and demand -attention later. - -It by no means appears that sleep is a natural function, the necessity -of which inheres in animal life and the constitution of things; -there is reason to regard it as a phenomenon due rather to stress of -circumstances—a kind of intermittent disorder incurred by exposure -to conditions that are being slowly but surely removed. Precisely -as sanitary and medical science and improved methods of living are -gradually extending the length of human life in every civilized country -and threatening the king of shadows himself with death ere, in the -poet’s sense, “Time shall throw a dart” at him, so we may observe -already the initial stages of a successful campaign against his brother -“Sleep.” Civilized peoples sleep fewer hours than savage ones, and, -among the civilized, dwellers in cities fewer than country folk. The -reason is not far to seek: it is a matter of light. - -Primitive Man, like the savage of to-day, had at night no other light -than that of the moon and that of wood fires. For countless ages our -ancestors lived without candles, and when they had learned the trick -of burning rushes soaked in the fat of neighboring tribesmen their -state was not greatly better. Beyond Primitive Man we may dimly discern -_his_ ancestors—unmentionable to ears un-Darwinized—who had no -artificial light at all. In the darkness of the night and the forest -what could these ancient worthies do? They had little enough to do at -any time, but even their rudest pursuit—that of one another—could not -be carried on in darkness. They did nothing, naturally assuming the -most comfortable posture in which to do it, the earlier sort suspending -themselves by their tails, the later, having no tails, lying down as -we do to-day, or rather to-night. It is a law of nature that when the -body, or any organ of it, is inactive a kind of torpor ensues; the -blood circulates in it with a more feeble flow; molecular changes take -place with a lessened energy—in short, the creature begins to die, and -can be restored to full life only by renewal of bodily activity. In the -instance of the brain this torpor means unconsciousness—that is to say, -sleep. To put the matter briefly, darkness compels inaction, inaction -begets sleep. - -Another law of nature—a rather comical one—is that acts which we do -regularly, from choice or necessity, set up a tendency in us to do them -involuntarily when we don’t care to; and when the original impulse -has been replaced by this new and more imperative one we give it the -name of habit and flatter ourselves that we have explained it. Because -our pithecanthropoid and autocthonic forefathers, unable by reason of -darkness to indulge during the whole twenty-four hours in the one-sided -pleasures of the chase and the mutual joy of braining one another, had -to sleep, _we_ have to sleep; although we have (by paying sorely -for it) plenty of light for many kinds of malign activity. - -But little by little we are overcoming the sleep habit without loss of -health, if not with positive sanitary advantage. As before pointed out, -the people of our lighted cities sleep less than the rural population; -and this sleeps less than it did before the improvement in lamps. -Nothing is more certain, despite popular opinion to the contrary, -than that the men of cities are superior in strength and endurance to -those of the country, as is abundantly attested in army life, in camp -and field. That this is wholly or even greatly due to their nocturnal -activity is not affirmed; only that their addiction to the joys of -insomnia has not appreciably counteracted the sanitary advantages of -city life—amongst which an honorable prominence should be given to -defective drainage and drinking-water that is largely solution of dog -and hydrate of husband from the city reservoir. - -The electric light has apparently “come to stay,” but more likely it -will in good time be replaced by something that as far exceeds it as -itself beats the hallowed tallow candle of our grandmothers. Not only -will the streets and shops and dwellings of our cities be illuminated -all night with a splendor of which we can have hardly a conception, -but the country districts as well; for it is now known that plants -(which apparently are not creatures of habit) do not need sleep, and -that by continuous light the profits of agriculture could be enormously -increased. The farmers will no longer retire with the lark, but will -work night shifts, as is already done in factories and mines, and -eventually work all the time, in order to support the rest of us in the -style to which we have been accustomed. - -On the whole, I think it not unreasonable to look forward with -pleasant anticipation to a time, some millions of years hence, when -the literature of sleep will be no longer intelligible, and the people -of even this country be sufficiently wide awake to prevent the ten -_per centum_ of their number devoted to patriotic pursuits from -plundering the other ninety _per centum_, and to make our judges -and legislators obey the laws. - - - - - CONCERNING PICTURES - - - I - -I hold with Story and others whose talents and accomplishments so -brilliantly illustrate their faith, that the great artist is almost -necessarily a man of high attainments in general knowledge and in -more than one branch of art. He who knows but one art knows none. The -Muses do not singly disclose themselves; for the favor of one you -must sue to all. Consider the great Italian painters, from Angelo and -Rafael down the line of merit to the modern masters. As a rule they -were men of wisdom, accomplished in all the learning of their time. -They were statesmen, scientists, engineers—men of affairs. They knew -literature, architecture, sculpture and music, as well as painting. -With here and there a notable exception—more notable as an exception -than as a painter—the same is true in many a country besides Italy, and -many an age besides that in which the genius of her sons kindled the -imperishable splendor that burns about her name. - -Perception is not the same as discernment, and he who sees with his -eyes only will paint with nothing but his hand. Ruskin says the -artist is the man who knows “what is going on.” To him the primrose -is a primrose and something more—a primrose plus what it is doing, -saying, thinking, and what is being done, said, thought by its whole -environment. The great artist makes everything live; he gives to death -itself and desolation a personality and a breathing soul. The rooted -rock could move if it wished; trees understand one another; the river -is prescient of the sea. Not a pebble, not a grass-blade but is alert -with a significant life to further the general conspiracy. - -Understand me. This activity is entirely distinct from muscular action, -locomotion, motion of any kind or any of the coarser sorts of energy -flagrantly depicted. The portrait of a corpse may be full of it, the -picture of a bounding horse altogether destitute. - -Everything in nature—every single object, every group, every landscape, -has a visible expression, as a face has. This can generally be denoted -in terms of human emotion. We all know what is meant by an “angry” -sky or a “threatening” billow, for we have observed what follows. But -we are not all equally sensitive to the joyous aspect of a tree, the -sulking of a rock, the menace or the benediction that may speak from a -hillside, the reticence of one building and the garrulity of another, -the pathos of a blank window, the tendernesses and the terrors that -smile and glower everywhere about us. These are no fancies. True, they -are but the outward and visible signs of an inner mood; but the objects -that bear them beget the mood. No true artist but feels it, and all -feel it nearly alike. To discern, to feel, to seize upon this dominant -expression and make it predominant in his picture—this, as Taine -rightly says, is the painter’s function. - -I stood once upon the slope of a deep gulch; with me a friend, the -quick certainty of whose artistic insight was always to me a source -of surprise and delight. Across the gulch, a quarter-mile away, stood -two trees, a giant oak, whose great roots corded the rocks like the -tentacles of a devil-fish, and a slender pine, springing from clear -ground nearby. The oak reached out a long, muscular arm toward the -other tree, which, leaning sharply away from the contact, had all its -branches on the opposite side. I studied the group for some minutes -while my friend had her eyes and thoughts elsewhere. I was endeavoring -to interpret the sentiment, which finally I succeeded in doing to my -satisfaction; it remained only to test the validity of my conclusion. -I said to myself: “Menace and terror”; to my companion: “What is the -matter over yonder?” She glanced at the group and replied, without an -instant’s hesitation, in the first words that came to call: “The little -tree is trying to get away from the old scoundrel among the rocks.” - - - II - -The terrible story is told of how the late W. H. Vanderbilt came near -being cheated out of three hundred thousand dollars by purchasing a -painting that was no better than it looked! From that imminent peril -he was rescued by death. The painting, it seems, was discovered (where -it had not been lost) by a person—nay, a parson—named Nicole, who gave -his personal assurance that it was a Rafael. It must have looked a good -deal like a Rafael, for although it was for a long time an object of -adoration for artist pilgrims from all over Europe, none detected its -spurious character. That is clear from the facts that it was later that -Mr. Vanderbilt agreed to take it, and that while negotiations were -going on Herr Nicole borrowed twelve thousand dollars on it from a -banker who has it yet. That could hardly have been true if the pilgrims -to its shrine at Lausanne had had their transports moderated by a -suspicion that it was not so good as it looked. - -The reader will kindly repress his hilarity. This is no joke. If a -picture can not be better than it looks how does it happen that this -one is not so valuable after the exposure as it was before? The notion -that a picture _can_ be better or worse than it looks does seem -absurd when one stops to think about it. It is not original with me; -the late Bill Nye once set the country smiling by solemnly explaining -that he had been told that Wagner’s music was better than it sounded. - -But why did we laugh? We do not laugh when a wealthy “patron of -art,” or a paternal government pays an enormous price for a painting -_because_ it is pronounced by experts to be a genuine work of a -famous “old master.” And we do not laugh—not all of us—when, as in -the present instance, the value drops to nearly nothing because the -painting proves to be a copy only, or the work of an unknown hand. - -I am no artist—Heaven forbid!—nor even a connoisseur. If I were I -should doubtless understand why a copy that is as beautiful as an -original is not so desirable a possession—why it does not give so great -pleasure to the eye and the mind and the heart. I should understand why -the work of an obscure or unknown artist is not so valuable as the work -of a famous artist if it happens to be as good. - -One would suppose—that is, one unacquainted with art might be conceived -as supposing—that the value of a painting would be appraised without -reference to the question: Who made it? It seems (to the unenlightened) -as if it would make no difference what name was borne by the person -that painted it—just as the _Iliad_ or the _Odyssey_ would -be equally pleasing whether written by Homer or by “another man of -the same name,” or another name. I have the hardihood to declare that -it is—and here I am on my own ground. I affirm—nay, “swear tiptoed -with lifted hand”—that the pleasure of any reasonable man in reading -“Ossian” is not abated by knowledge that the author was Macpherson; -that to a sane judgment the “Rowley” poems are altogether as delightful -as if the secret of their composition had been carried into the next -world by little Chatterton when “he perished in his pride.” What is -it to me, or to you, if the Shakspeare plays were written by Bacon? -We have the plays; let us read and be thankful. Shakspeare and Bacon -may fight it out in Elysium, with Ignatius Donnelly as umpire; of the -decision, “it boots not to inquire.” - -If that is the mental attitude of the true lover of letters, and it is, -why is the true lover of art differently constituted, if he is? Why are -“the still vexed Bermoothes” of his soul still vexed? Why can not he -make up his mind that a work of art is good, or is bad, and let it go -at that, serenely unconcerned about the “irrelevant, incompetent and -immaterial” babble of the experts in authenticity? - -Being ignorant, I thank Heaven for the existence of artists obscure -by fortune or by choice, skilful enough to imitate in line or style -the work of the great and famous painters. For gratification of my own -eye I would as lief see and possess their work as the work that they -imitate. So would anybody—for gratification of his own eye. For pigly -satisfaction of owning something denied to one’s neighbor; something -rare because death has stopped the supply; something to be triumphantly -shown to one’s visitors in the hope of exciting some of the baser -passions of the human heart, such as covetousness, envy and the -like—for such “satisfaction and refined delight” one would of course -prefer an original “old master” and be willing to pay a pretty penny -for gratification of the preference. - -Some wicked man has said that an artist has sensibility, but no sense. -I fancy that is not so, but finding artists pretty generally concerned -with questions of the “genuineness” of “canvases”—that is to say, -pretty generally assenting to the proposition that a picture can be -better or worse than it looks—I am sometimes tormented by doubt. - - - - - MODERN WARFARE - - - I - -The dream of a time when the nations shall war no more is a pleasant -dream, and an ancient. Countless generations have indulged it, and to -countless others, doubtless, it will prove a solace and a benefaction. -Yet one may be permitted to doubt if its ultimate realization is to -be accomplished by diligent and general application to the task of -learning war, as so many worthy folk believe. That every notable -advance in the art of destroying human life should be “hailed” by these -good people as a step in the direction of universal peace must be -accounted a phenomenon entirely creditable to the hearts, if not to the -heads, of those in whom it is manifest. It shows in them a constitution -of mind opposed to bloodshed, for their belief having nothing to do -with the facts—being, indeed, inconsistent with them—is obviously an -inspiration of the will. - -“War,” these excellent persons reason, “will at last become so dreadful -that men will no longer engage in it”—happily unconscious of the fact -that men’s sense of their power to make it dreadful is precisely the -thing which most encourages them to wage it. Another popular promise -of peace is seen in the enormous cost of modern armaments and military -methods. The shot and cartridge of a heavy gun of to-day cost hundreds -of dollars, the gun itself tens of thousands. It is at an expense of -thousands that a torpedo is discharged, which may or may not wreck a -ship worth millions. To secure its safety from the machinations of its -wicked neighbors while itself engaged in the arts of peace, a nation -of to-day must have an immense sum of money invested in military -plant alone. It is not of the nature of man to impoverish himself -by investments from which he hopes for no return except security in -the condition entailed by the outlay. Men do not construct expensive -machinery, taxing themselves poor to keep it in working order, without -ultimately setting it going. The more of its income a nation has to -spend in preparation for war, the more certainly it will go to war. -Its means of defense are means of aggression, and the stronger it -feels itself to strike for its altars and its fires, the more spirited -becomes its desire to go across the border to upset the altars and -extinguish the fires of its neighbors. - -But the notion that improved weapons give modern armies and navies an -increased killing ability—that the warfare of the future will be a -bloodier business than that which we have the happiness to know—is an -error which the observant lover of peace is denied the satisfaction -of entertaining. Compare, for example, a naval engagement of to-day -with Salamis, Lepanto or Trafalgar. Compare the famous duel between -the _Monitor_ and the _Merrimac_ with almost any encounter -between the old wooden line-of-battle ships, continued, as was the -reprehensible custom, until one or both, with hundreds of dead and -wounded, incarnadined the seas by going to the bottom. - -As long ago as 1861 a terrific engagement occurred in the harbor of -Charleston, South Carolina. It lasted forty hours, and was fought with -hundreds of the biggest and best guns of the period. Not a man was -killed nor wounded. - -In the spring of 1862, below New Orleans, Porter’s mortar boats -bombarded Fort Jackson for nearly five days and nights, throwing -about 16,800 shells, mostly thirteen inches in diameter. “Nearly -every shell,” says the commandant of the fort, “lodged inside the -works.” Even in those days, it will be observed, there were “arms of -precision”; and an exploding 13-inch shell is still highly esteemed and -respected. As nearly as I can learn, the slaughter amounted to two men. - -A year later Admiral Dupont attacked Fort Sumter, then in the hands -of the Confederates, with the _New Ironsides_, the double-turret -monitor _Keokuk_, and seven single-turret monitors. The big guns -of the fort were too much for him. One of his vessels was struck 90 -times, and afterward sank. Another was struck 53 times; another, 35 -times; another, 14; another, 47; another, 20; another, 47; another, -95; another, 36, and disabled. But they threw 151 shots from their own -“destructive” weapons, and these, being “arms of precision,” killed a -whole man by cutting down a flag-staff, which fell upon him. The total -number of shots fired by the enemy was 2,209, and more than two men -were killed by them I am unable to find any account of it. But it was a -splendid battle, as every Quaker will allow! - -In the stubbornest land engagements of our great rebellion, and of -the later and more scientific Franco-German and Turko-Russian wars, -the proportionate mortality was not nearly so great as in those where -“Greek met Greek” hand to hand, or where the Roman with his short -sword, the most destructive weapon ever invented, played at give and -take with the naked barbarian or the Roman of another political faith. -True, we must make some allowance for exaggeration in the accounts of -these ancient affairs, not forgetting Niebuhr’s assurance that Roman -history is nine parts lying. But as European and American history run -it pretty hard in respect of that, something, too, may be allowed in -accounts of modern battles—particularly where the historian foots up -the losses of the side which had not the military advantage of his -sympathies. - -Improvements in guns, armor, fortification and shipbuilding have been -pushed so near to perfection that naval and semi-naval engagements may -justly be counted amongst the arts of peace, and must eventually obtain -the medical recognition which is their due as means of sanitation. -The most notable improvements are those in small arms. Our young -scapegrace grandfathers fought the Revolutionary War with so miserable -firearms that they could not make themselves decently objectionable -to the minions of monarchy at a greater distance than forty yards. -They had to go up so close that many of them lost their tempers. With -the modern rifle, incivilities can be carried on at a distance of -a mile-and-a-half, with thin lines and a cheerful disposition. The -dynamite shell has, unfortunately, done much to gloom this sunniness by -suggesting a scattered formation, which makes conversation difficult -and begets loneliness. Isolation leads to suicide, and suicide is -“mortality.” So the dynamite shell is really not the life-saving device -that it looks. But on the whole we seem to be making reasonably good -progress toward that happy time, not when “war shall be no more,” but -when, being healthful, it will be universal and perpetual. The soldier -of the future will die of age; and may God have mercy on his cowardly -soul! - -It has been said that to kill a man in battle a man’s weight in lead -is required. But if the battle happens to be fought by modern warships -or forts, or both, about a hundred tons of iron would seem to be a -reasonable allowance for the making of a military corpse. In fighting -in the open the figures are more cheering. What it cost in our civil -war to kill a Confederate soldier is not accurately computable; we -don’t know exactly how many we had the good luck to kill. But the “best -estimates” are easily accessible. - - - II - -In the _Century_ magazine several years ago was a paper on machine -guns and dynamite guns. As might have been expected, it opened with -a prediction by a distinguished general of the Union armies that, so -murderous have warlike weapons become, “the next war will be marked -by terrific and fearful slaughter.” This is naturally followed by -the writer’s smug and comfortable assurance that “in the extreme -mortality of modern war will be found the only hope that man can have -of even a partial cessation of war.” If this were so, let us see how -it would work. The chronological sequence of events would necessarily -(obviously, one would think) be something like this: - -1. Murderous perfection of warlike weapons. - -2. War marked by “terrific and fearful slaughter.” - -3. Consequent cessation of war and disarmament of nations. - -4. Stoppage of the manufacture of military weapons, with resulting -decay of dependent industries; that is to say, decay of the ability -to produce the weapons. Diversion of intellectual activity to arts of -peace. - -5. War no longer capable of being marked by “terrific and fearful -slaughter.” _Ergo_, - -6. Revival of war. - -All the armies and navies of the world are being equipped with more -and more “destructive” weapons. But does this insure a “terrific -and fearful slaughter” in battle? Assuredly not. It implies and -necessitates profound modifications in tactical formations and -movements—modifications similar in kind (though greater in degree) to -those already brought about by the long range repeating rifle and the -improved field artillery. Men are not going to march up in masses and -be mown down by machinery. If the effective range of these guns is, -for example, two miles, tactical maneuvers in the open will be made -at a greater distance from them. The storming of fortifications and -charges in the open ground will go out of fashion. They have, in fact, -been growing more and more infrequent ever since the improvements in -range and precision of firearms began. If a man who fought under John -Sobieski, Marlborough or the first Napoleon could be haled out of his -obliterated grave and shown a battle of to-day with all our murderous -weapons in full thunder, he would probably knuckle the leaf-mould out -of his eyes and say: “Yes, yes, it is most inspiring!—but where is the -enemy?” - -It is a fact that in the battle of to-day the soldier seldom gets more -than a distant and transitory glimpse of the men whom he is fighting. -He is still supplied with the sabre if he is “horse,” with the bayonet -if he is “foot,” but the value of these weapons is a moral one. When -commanded to draw the one or “fix” the other he knows he is expected -to advance as far as he dares to go; but he knows, too, if he is not -a very raw recruit, that he will not get within sabring or bayoneting -distance of his antagonists—who will either break and run away or -drop so many of his comrades that he will himself break and run away. -In our civil war—and that is very ancient history to the long-range -tactician of to-day—it was my fortune to assist at a sufficing number -of assaults with bayonet and assaults with sabre, but I have never had -the gratification to see a half-dozen men, friends or enemies, who had -fallen by either the one weapon or the other. Whenever the opposing -lines actually met it was the rifle, the carbine, or the revolver -that did the work. In these days of “arms of precision” they do not -meet. There is reason, too, to suspect that, therefore, they do not -“get mad” and execute all the mischief that they are capable of. It is -certain that the machine gun will keep its temper under the severest -provocation. - -Another great improvement in warfare is a mirror or screen which is -placed at the rear of heavy guns, reflecting everything in front. By -means of certain mechanism the gun can be trained upon anything so -reflected. This enables the gunners to keep out of danger in the bottom -of their well and so live to a green old age. The advantage to them -is considerable and too obvious to require exposition to anyone but -an agnostic; but whether in the long run their country will find any -profit in preserving the lives of men who are afraid to die for it—that -is another matter. It might be better to incur the expense entailed by -having relays of men to be killed in battle than to try to win battles -with men who know nothing of the spirit, enthusiasm and heroism that -come of peril. - -All mechanical devices tend to make cowards of those whom they protect. -Men long accustomed to the security of even such slight earthworks -as are thrown up by armies operating against each other in the open -country lose something out of their general efficiency. The particular -thing that they lose is courage. In long sieges the sallies and -assaults are commonly feeble, spiritless affairs, easily repelled. So -manifestly does a soldier’s comparative safety indispose him to incur -even such perils as beset him in it that during the last years of our -civil war, when it was customary for armies in the field to cover their -fronts with breastworks, many intelligent officers, conceding the need -of some protection, yet made their works much slighter than was easily -possible. Except when the firing was heavy, close and continuous, -“head-logs” (for example) for the men to fire under were distinctly -demoralizing. The soldier who has least security is least reluctant to -forego what security he has. That is to say, he is the bravest. - -Right sensibly General Miles once tried to call a halt in the progress -of military extravagance by condemning our enormous expenditures -for “disappearing guns.” The delicate and complicated mechanism for -pointing and lowering the gun will break down when it is in action -and deteriorate like a fish on the beach when it is not. During the -long decades of peace it will need expert attention, exercise enough -to wear it out, and constant renewal of its parts. The only merit of -these absurd Jack-in-the-box guns is their bankrupting cost. If we can -fool less wealthy nations into adopting them we shall have whatever -advantage accrues to the longest purse in a contest of purses. So -far, all other nations, rich and poor alike, have shown a thrifty -indisposition to engage in the peaceful strife. - -We are told with, on the whole, sufficient reiteration, that this is -an age and this a country of “marvelous invention,” of “scientific -machinery,” and the rest of it. We accept the statement without -question, as the people of every former age have without question -believed it of themselves. God forbid that anyone should close his -ears to the cackle of his generation when it has laid its daily egg! -Nevertheless, there are things that mechanical ingenuity can not -profitably produce. One of them is the disappearing gun, another the -combination stop-watch and tack hammer. - -Americans must learn, preferably in time of peace, that no people has a -monopoly of ingenuity and military aptitude. Great wars of the future, -like great wars of the past, will be conducted with an intelligence and -knowledge common to both belligerents, and with such appliances as both -possess. The art of attack and the art of defense will balance each -other as now, any advance in the first being always promptly met with a -corresponding advance in the second. Genius is of no country; it is not -peculiar to the United States. - -It is not to be doubted that if it should be discovered that silver is -a better gun metal than any now in use, and some ingenious scoundrel -should invent a diamond-pointed shell of superior penetrating power, -these “weapons of precision and efficiency” would be adopted by all -the military powers. Their use would at least produce a gratifying -mortality among civilians who pay military appropriations; so something -would be gained. The purpose of modern artillery appears to be -slaughter of the taxpayer behind the gun. - -If fifty years ago the leading nations of Europe and America had -united in making invention of offensive and defensive devices a -capital crime, they would during all this intervening time have been -on relatively the same military footing that they now are, and would -have been spared an expenditure of a mountain of money. In the mad -competition for primacy in war power not one of them has gained any -permanent advantage; the entire benefit of the “improvements” has gone -to the clever persons who have thought them out and been permitted to -patent them. Until these are forbidden by law to eat cake in the sweat -of the taxpayer’s face we must continue to clutch our purse and tremble -at their power. We are willing to admire their ingenuity, cheer their -patriotism and envy their lack of heart, but it would be better to take -them from their arms of precision to those of the public hangman. - -The military inventor is said now to have thought out a missile that -will make a hole in any practicable armor plate as easily as you can -put a hot knife through a pat of butter. From all that can be learned -by way of the fan-light over the door of official secrecy it appears -to be a pointed steel bolt greased with graphite. Its performances -are said to be eminently satisfactory to the man behind the patent, -who is confident that it will serve the purpose of its being by -penetrating the United States Treasury. Well, here at least is “an -improvement in weapons of destruction,” to which the non-militant -taxpayer can accord a hearty welcome. If it is really irresistible to -armor, armor to resist it will go out of use and ships again “fight -in their shirtsleeves.” It will sadden us to renounce the familiar -550-dollars-a-ton steel plating endeared to us by a thousand tender -recollections of the assessment rate, but time heals all earthly -sorrow, and eventually we shall renew our joy in the blue of the skies, -the fragrance of the flowers, the dew-spangled meadows, the fluting -and warbling and trilling of the politicians. In the meantime, while -awaiting our perfect consolation, we may derive a minor comfort from -the high price of graphite. - -When in personal collision, or imminent expectation of it, with a -gentleman cherishing the view that one is needless, one’s attention -does not wander from the business in hand to dwell upon the lilies and -languors of peace. One is interested in the proceedings, and if he -survive them experiences in the retrospection a pleasure that was not -discernible in the returning brave from the land where the Mauser and -the Kraag-Jorgensen conversed amicably without visible human agency -across a space of two statute miles. Crouching in the grass, under an -afflicting Spanish fire from somewhere, our soldiers at San Juan Hill -felt it a great hardship to be “decimated” in so inglorious a skirmish. -They did not know, poor fellows, that they were fighting a typical -modern battle. When, the situation having become intolerable, their -two divisions had charged and carried the trenches of the two or three -hundred Spaniards opposed to them, they had leisure to amend their -conception of war as a picturesque and glorious game. - -In the elder day, before the invention of the Whitehead torpedo and -the high-power gun, the wooden war vessels of the period used to ram -each other, lie alongside, grapple, jam their guns into each other’s -ports, and send swarms of half-naked boarders on each other’s deck, -where they fought breast to breast and foot to foot like heroes. Dr. -Johnson described a sea voyage as “close confinement with a chance of -being drowned.” The sailor-militant has always experienced that double -disadvantage with the added chance of being smashed and burned. But -formerly the rigors of his lot were ameliorated by a sight of his -enemy and by some small opportunity of distinction in the neighborhood -of that gentleman’s throat. To-day he is denied the pleasure of -meeting him—never even so much as sees him unless fortunate enough to -make him take to his boats. As opportunity for personal adventure and -distinction a modern sea-fight is considerably inferior to a day in the -penitentiary. Like a land-fight, it has enough of danger to keep the -men awake, but for variety and excitement it is inferior to a combat -between an isosceles triangle and the fourth dimension. - -When the patriot’s heart is duly fired by his newspaper and his -politician he will probably enlist henceforth, as he has done -heretofore, and be as ready to assist in covering the enemy’s half of -the landscape with a rain of bullets, falling where it shall please -Heaven, as his bellicose ancestor was to meet the foeman in the flesh -and engage him in personal combat; but it will be a stupid business, -despite all that the special correspondent can do for its celebration -by verbal fireworks. Tales of the “firing line” emanating from the -chimney corner of the future will urge the young male afield with a -weaker suasion. By the way, I do not remember to have heard the term -“firing line” during our civil war. We had the thing, of course, but -it did not last long enough (except in siege operations, when it was -called something else) to get a name. Troops on the “firing line” -either held their fire until the enemy signified a desire for it by -coming to get it, or they themselves advanced and served him with it -where he stood. - -I should not like to say that this is an age of human cowardice; I say -only that the men of all civilized nations are taking a deal of pains -to invent offensive weapons that will wield themselves and defenses -that can take the place of the human breast. A modern battle is a -quarrel of skulkers trying to have all the killing done a long way from -their persons. They will attack at a distance; they will defend if -inaccessible. As much of the fighting as possible is done by machinery, -preferably automatic. When we shall so have perfected our arms of -precision and other destructive weapons that they will need no human -agency to start and keep them going, war will be foremost among the -arts of peace. - -Meantime it is still a trifle perilous, sometimes fatal; those who -practice it must expect bloody noses and cracked crowns. It may -be to the advantage of our countrymen to know that if they have no -forethought but thrift they can have no safety but peace; that in the -school of emergency nothing is taught but how to weep; that there -are no effective substitutes for courage and devotion. America’s -best defenses are the breasts of American soldiers and the brains of -American commanders. Confidence in any “revolutionizing” device is a -fatal faith. - - 1899. - - - - - CHRISTMAS AND THE NEW YEAR - - -In our manner of observing Christmas there is much, no doubt, that is -absurd. Christmas is to some extent a day of meaningless ceremonies, -false sentiment and hollow compliments endlessly iterated and -misapplied. The observances “appropriate to the day” had, many of them, -their origin in an age with which our own has little in common and in -countries whose social and religious characteristics were unlike those -obtaining here. As in so many other matters, America has in this been -content to take her heritage without inquiry and without alteration, -sacredly preserving much that once had a meaning now lost, much that is -now an anachronism, a mere “survival.” Even to the Christmas vocabulary -we have added little. St. Nicholas himself, the patron saint of -deceived children, still masquerades under the Spanish feminine title -of “Santa” and the German nickname of “Claus.” The back of our American -coal grate is still idealized as a “yule log,” and the English “holly” -is supposed in most cases fitly to be shadowed forth by a cedar bough, -while a comparatively innocuous but equally inedible indigenous -comestible figures as the fatal English “plum pudding.” Nearly all our -Christmas literature is, _longo intervallo_, European in spirit -and Dickensish in form. In short, we have Christmas merely because we -were in the line of succession. We have taken it as it was transmitted, -and we try to make the worst of it. - -The approach of the season is apparent in the manner of the friend or -relative whose orbs furtively explore your own, seeking a sign of what -you are going to give him; in the irrepressible solicitations of babes -and cloutlings; in wild cascades of such literature as _Greenleaf -on Evidence, for Boys_ (“Boot-Leg” series), _The Little Girls’ -Illustrated Differential Calculus_ and _Aunt Hetty’s Rabelais_, -in words of one syllable. Most clearly is the advent of the blessed -anniversary manifest in maddening iteration of the greeting wherein, -with a precision that never by any chance mistakes its adjective, you -are wished a “merry” Christmas by the same person who a week later -will be making ninety-nine “happies” out of a possible hundred in -New Year greetings similarly insincere and similarly insufferable. -It is unknown to me why a Christmas should be always merry but never -happy, and why the happiness appropriate to the New Year should not -be expressed in merriment. These be mysteries in whose penetration -abundance of human stupidity might be disclosed. By the time that one -has been wished a “merry Christmas” or a “happy New Year” some scores -of times in the course of a morning walk, by persons who he knows care -nothing about either his merriment or his happiness, he is disposed, -if he is a person of right feeling, to take a pessimist view of the -“compliments of the season” and of the season of compliments. He -cherishes, according to disposition, a bitter animosity or a tolerant -contempt toward his race. He relinquishes for another year his hope of -meeting some day a brilliant genius or inspired idiot who will have the -intrepidity to vary the adjective and wish him a “happy Christmas” or -a “merry New Year”; or with an even more captivating originality, keep -his mouth shut. - -As to the sum of sincerity and genuine good will that utters itself -in making and accepting gifts (the other distinctive feature of -holiday time) statistics, unhappily, are wanting and estimates -untrustworthy. It may reasonably be assumed that the custom, though -largely a survival—gifts having originally been given in a propitiatory -way by the weak to the powerful—is something more; the present of a -goggle-eyed doll from a man six feet high to a baby twenty-nine inches -long not being lucidly explainable by assumption of an interested -motive. - -To the children the day is delightful and instructive. It enables them -to see their elders in all the various stages of interesting idiocy, -and teaches them by means of the Santa Claus deception that exceedingly -hard liars may be good mothers and fathers and miscellaneous -relatives—thus habituating the infant mind to charitable judgment and -establishing an elastic standard of truth that will be useful in their -later life. - -The annual recurrence of the “carnival of crime” at Christmas has -been variously accounted for by different authorities. By some it is -supposed to be a providential dispensation intended to heighten the -holiday joys of those who are fortunate enough to escape with their -lives. Others attribute it to the lax morality consequent upon the -demand for presents, and still others to the remorse inspired by -consciousness of ruinous purchases. It is affirmed by some that persons -deliberately and with malice aforethought put themselves in the way of -being killed, in order to avert the tiresome iteration of Christmas -greetings. If this is correct, the annual Christmas “holocaust” is not -an evil demanding abatement, but a blessing to be received in a spirit -of devout and pious gratitude. - -When the earth in its eternal circumgression arrives at the point -where it was at the same time the year before, the sentimentalist whom -Christmas has not exhausted of his essence squeezes out his pitiful -dreg of emotion to baptize the New Year withal. He dusts and polishes -his aspirations, and reërects his resolve, extracting these well-worn -properties from the cobwebby corners of his moral lumber-room, whither -they were relegated three hundred and sixty-four days before. He -“swears off.” In short, he sets the centuries at defiance, breaks the -sequence of cause and effect, repeals the laws of nature and makes -himself a new disposition from a bit of nothing left over at the -creation of the universe. He can not add an inch to his stature, but -thinks he can add a virtue to his character. He can not shed his -nails, but believes he can renounce his vices. Unable to eradicate a -freckle from his skin, he is confident he can decree a habit out of his -conduct. An improvident friend of mine writes upon his mirror with a -bit of soap the cabalistic word, AFAHMASP. This is the _fiat lux_ -to create the shining virtue of thrift, for it means, A Fool And His -Money Are Soon Parted. What need have we of morality’s countless -ministries; the complicated machinery of the church; recurrent -suasions of precept and unceasing counsel of example; pursuing din of -homily; still, small voice of solicitude and inaudible argument of -surroundings—if one may make of himself what he will with a mirror and -a bit of soap? But (it may be urged) if one can not reform himself, how -can he reform others? Dear reader, let us have a frank understanding. -He can not. - -The practice of inflating the midnight steam-shrieker and belaboring -the nocturnal ding-dong to frighten the encroaching New Year is -obviously ineffectual, and might profitably be discontinued. It is -no whit more sensible and dignified than the custom of savages who -beat their sounding dogs to scare away an eclipse. If one elect to -live with barbarians, one must endure the barbarous noises of their -barbarous superstitions, but the disagreeable simpleton who sits up -till midnight to ring a bell or fire a gun because the earth has -arrived at a given point in its orbit should nevertheless be deprecated -as an enemy to his race. He is a sore trial to the feelings, an -affliction almost too sharp for endurance. If he and his sentimental -abettors might be melted and cast into a great bell, every right-minded -man would derive an innocent delight from pounding it, not only on -January first but all the year long. - - - - - ON PUTTING ONE’S HEAD INTO ONE’S BELLY - - -Mr. Henry Holt, a publisher, has uttered his mind at no inconsiderable -length in deprecation of what he calls “the commercialization of -literature.” That literature, in this country and England at least, has -somewhat fallen from its high estate and is regarded even by many of -its purveyors as a mere trade is unfortunately true, as we see in the -genesis and development of the “literary syndicates”; in the unholy -alliance between the book reviewer and the head of the advertising -department; in the systematic “booming” of certain books and authors -by methods, both supertabular and submanual, not materially different -from those used for the promotion of a patent medicine; in the reverent -attitude of editors and publishers toward authors of “best sellers,” -and in more things than can be here set down. In the last century when, -surely by no fortuitous happening, American literature was made by such -men as Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Poe, Emerson, Whittier, Hawthorne, -Longfellow, Holmes and Lowell, these purely commercial phenomena -were in less conspicuous evidence and some of them were altogether -indiscernible. - -That the period of literature’s commercialization should be that of -its decay is obviously more than a coincidence. Mr. Holt observes -both, and is sad, but _that_ is a coincidence pure and simple: -his melancholy is due to something else. The “commercialization” is -confessedly compelling him to do a good deal more advertising than -he likes to pay for; for commerce spells competition. The authors -of to-day and their agents have acquired the disagreeable habit of -taking their wares to the highest bidder—the publisher who will give -the highest royalties and the broadest publicity. The immemorial -relation whereby the publisher was said to drink wine out of the -author’s skull has been rudely disturbed by the latter demanding some -of the wine for himself and refusing to supply the skull—an irritating -infraction of a good understanding sanctified by centuries of faithful -observance. It is only natural that Mr. Holt, being a conservative man -and a protagonist of established order, should experience some of the -emotions appropriate to the defenders in a servile insurrection. - -With a candor that is most becoming, Mr. Holt expressly bewails the -passing of the old régime—the departed days when authors “had other -resources” than authorship. This is the second time that it has been -my melancholy privilege to hear the head of a prosperous American -publishing house make this moan. Another one, a few years ago, in -addressing a company of authors, solemnly advised them to have some -means of support additional to writing. I was not then, and am not now, -assured that publishers find it necessary to have any means of support -additional to publishing. - - - - - THE AMERICAN CHAIR - - -A London philosopher was once pleased to remark that the American habit -of sitting on the middle of the back with the feet elevated might in -time profoundly alter the American physical structure, producing a -race having its type in the Bactrian camel. If “our cousins across -the water” understood this matter they would not adopt the flippant -tone toward us that they now do, but in place of ridicule would bestow -compassion. Before endeavoring to clear away the misconceptions -surrounding the subject, so as to let in upon ourselves the holy light -of British sympathy I must explain that the practice of sitting in the -manner which the British philosopher somewhat inaccurately describes -is confined mostly to the males of our race; the American woman will -not, I trust, partake of the structural modification foreseen by the -scientific eye, but remain, as now, simply and sweetly dromedarian. -True, Nature may punish her for being found in bad company, but at -the first stroke of the lash she will doubtless forsake us and seek -sanctuary in the companionship of that bolt-upright vertebrate, the -English nobleman. - -The national peculiarity which, one is sorry to observe, provokes -nothing but levity in the British mind—and British levity is no light -affliction—is not our fault but our misfortune. Like every other -people, we Americans are the slaves of those who serve us. Not one -of us in a thousand (so busy are we in “subduing the wilderness” and -guarding our homes against the Redskins) has leisure to plan and -order his surroundings; and to the few whom Fortune has favored with -leisure she has denied the means. We take everything ready-made—our -houses, grounds, carriages, furniture and all. In some of these things -Providence has by special interposition introduced new designs and -revived old ones, but in most of them there is neither change nor the -shadow of turning. They are to-day what they were a century ago, and -a century hence will be what they are to-day. The chair-maker, for -example, is the obscure intelligence and indirigible energy that his -grandfather was before him: the American chair maintains through the -ages its bad eminence as an instrument of torture. Time can not wither -nor custom stale its infinite malevolence. The type of the species is -the familiar hard-pan chair of the kitchen; in the dining-room this has -been deplaced by the “splint-bottom,” and in the parlor by an armed -and upholstered abomination which tempts us to session only to turn -to ashes, as it were, upon our bodies. They are essentially the same -old chair—worthy descendants of the original Adam of Chairs, created -from a block in the image of its maker’s head. The American chair is -never made to measure; it is supposed to fit anybody and be universally -applicable. - -It is to the American chair that we must look for the genesis and -rationale of the American practice of shelving the American feet on the -most convenient dizzy eminence. We naturally desire as little contact -with the chair as possible, so we touch it with the acutest angle that -we are able to achieve. The feet must rest somewhere, and a place must -be found for them. It is admitted that the mantel, the sideboard, the -window-sill, the _escritoire_ and the dining table (at least -during meals) are not good places; but _que voulez vous_?—the -chairmakers have not chosen to invent anything to mitigate the -bitterness of the situation as by their genius for evil they have made -it. - -I humbly submit that in all this there is nothing deserving of -ridicule. It is a situation with a pathos of its own, which ought -to appeal strongly to a people suffering so many of the ills of -conservitude, as do the English. It is all very well (to use their own -pet locution) to ask why we do not abolish the American chair, but -really the question ought not to come from a nation that endures _Mr. -Punch_, pities the House of Lords and embraces that of Hanover. The -American chair was probably divinely designed and sent upon us for -the chastening of our national spirit, and we accept it with the same -reverent submission that distinguishes our English critic in bowing his -neck to the heavy yoke of his own humor. - - - - - ANOTHER “COLD SPELL” - - -The late Professor Hayden, a distinguished official of the Coast -Survey, held disquieting views regarding the significance of certain -seismic and meteorological phenomena, or, as they say in English, -earthquakes and storms. It is the professor’s notion that stupendous -changes are going on in the center of the earth. As the human race -does not live in that locality, it may be thought that these changes -are insufficiently important to engage the attention of the public -press. Unfortunately, we are not permitted to entertain that pleasing -illusion, for the learned scientist has traced an obscurely marked, but -indubitable connection between them and the “blizzards” and cyclones of -the Northwest. In a manner not clearly explained, the “central changes” -of which the earthquake is the outward and visible sign, beget also -“a nipping and an eager air” singularly distasteful to the Montana -cattle-grower, and afflict Dakota with that kind of zephyr which, as a -nameless humorist has averred, “just sits on its hind legs and howls.” -Here, again, we are denied the double gratification of seeing the -Northwestern States and Territories devastated and feeling ourselves -secure from the same mischance. Professor Hayden—whose good will is -unquestionable—had no hope of confining these frigorific activities -to the region of their birth and overcoming them by some scientific -_coup de main_, as the man beat the gout by herding it into his -great toe, then cutting off the toe. No; the “blizzard,” both still and -sparkling, will spread all over the globe with increasing intensity -and vehemence, to the no small discomfort of the unacclimated, though -greatly, no doubt, to the innocent glee of Esquimau, Innuit, Aleut and -other natives of those “thrilling regions” - - Where the playful Polar bear - Nips the hunter unaware. - -In short, as the professor puts it, “scientific men here and abroad -concur in the opinion that we are approaching an extremely interesting -period.” - -We are not left in doubt as to the precise nature of the disasters -which an “interesting period” may naturally be expected to entail; it -is strongly intimated that the period is to be “another glacial age.” -The one with which we were last favored, not longer ago, according to -some authorities, than a matter of twenty thousand years, appears to -have accomplished its purposes of erosion and extinction imperfectly. -Its vast layers of ice, moving from the Pole toward the Equator, -planed off the surface of the earth so badly that such asperities as -the Rocky Mountains, the Alps and the Himalayas may be supposed to -offend the mechanical eye of Nature and make her desirous to go over -them again. The fact that the now temperate and torrid zones are still -infested by men and other beasts is evidence that the cave-dwellers -of the pre-glacial age were a tougher lot than the good old dame had -supposed. In her next attempt she will probably pile on more ice and -give it a superior momentum, at the same time heralding its southward -encroachment with a temperature that will be such a terror as to turn -the citrus belt white in a single night and drive it out altogether. - -Having been encouraged by Professor Hayden to nourish anticipations -of an interesting period pregnant with such pleasing possibilities as -these, we are inexpressibly disappointed to have him say, as he does, -that the operation of the great “central changes” to which we are to be -indebted for all this is so slow that it may be a thousand years, or -even longer, before they get to their work with perceptible efficacy. -Of course one must recognize the stern necessity that dominates the -scientific prophet—he has to carry the fulfilment so far into the -future as to avoid the melancholy fate of short-range prophets, like -Zadkiel; and therein we discern the true difference between the -scientist and the impostor. - -Nevertheless, in a matter of such pith and moment it would have been -agreeable to be permitted to hope that these fascinating events would -begin to occur in our day, and their author (if one may reverently -venture to call him so) would have done a graceful thing if he had so -far departed from the strictly scientific method as to assure us that -some of us, at least, might reasonably expect to be frozen into the -advancing wall of ice, like the famous Siberian mastodon of blessed -memory, and become objects of interest to the possible Haydens of a -later dispensation. As he has denied us the gratification which he -could so cheaply have given to our curiosity and ambition, one feels -justified in denouncing him as a miscreant and a viper. - - - - - THE LOVE OF COUNTY - - -Historians, homilists, orators, poets and magazine poets have for ages -been justly extolling the love of country as one of the noblest of -human sentiments; and it has been officially recommended to the fair -members of the Women’s Press Association as an appropriate subject to -write about—as “the vanity of life” was by the good-natured traveler -suggested to the inquiring hermit as a suitable theme for meditation. -Through all the ages has sounded the praise of patriotism, the love of -country. Philanthropy, the love of mankind, is a modern invention—a -newfangled notion with which it is unprofitable to reckon. - -But while the love of country has been so generally and so justly -extolled, too little has been said in praise of that still more highly -concentrated virtue, the love of county. This noble sentiment is even -more nearly general (where there are counties) than the other. That -it is a stronger and more fervent passion goes without saying. The -natural laws of affection are extremely simple and commonplace. The -human heart has a fixed and definite quantity of affection; no two -have the same quantity, but in each it is definite and incapable of -augmentation. It follows that the more objects it is bestowed upon, the -less each object will get; the more ground it is made to cover, the -more thinly it must be spread out. A woman, for example, cannot love a -child, five dogs, a Japanese teapot, _The Ladies’ Weekly Dieaway_, -an exquisite shade of lavender and a foreign count any harder than, in -the absence of the other blessings, she could love the child alone. -Similarly, the man whose patriotism embraces the ninety millions of -Americans, Americanesses and Americanettes can care very little for any -one of them; whereas he whose less comprehensive heart takes in the -inhabitants of only a single county must, especially in the sparsely -settled districts, be comparatively enamored of each individual. It -is this that gives to parochialism (it has not been more definitely -named) a dignity altogether superior to that of the diffused sentiment -which the historians, the homilists, orators, poets and newspaper poets -have united in belauding, not without reason, though, in the case of -those last mentioned, commonly without rhyme. In the love of county -the gifted ladies of the Women’s Press Association would find a theme -surpassed in sublimity by but one other, namely the love of township. -Of that sacred passion no uninspired pen would dare to write. - - - - - DISINTRODUCTIONS - - -The devil is a citizen of every country, but only in our own are we in -constant peril of an introduction to him. That is democracy. All men -are equal; the devil is a man; therefore, the devil is equal. If that -is not a good and sufficient syllogism I should be pleased to know what -is the matter with it. - -To write in riddles when one is not prophesying is too much trouble; -what I am affirming is the horror of the characteristic American custom -of promiscuous, unsought and unauthorized introductions. - -You incautiously meet your friend Smith in the street; if you had been -prudent you would have remained indoors. Your helplessness makes you -desperate and you plunge into conversation with him, knowing entirely -well the disaster that is in cold storage for you. - -The expected occurs: another man comes along and is promptly halted -by Smith and you are introduced! Now, you have not given to the -Smith the right to enlarge your circle of acquaintance and select the -addition himself; why did he do this thing? The person whom he has -condemned you to shake hands with may be an admirable person, though -there is a strong numerical presumption against it; but for all that -the Smith knows he may be your bitterest enemy. The Smith has never -thought of that. Or you may have evidence (independent of the fact of -the introduction) that he is some kind of thief—there are one thousand -and fifty kinds of thieves. But the Smith has never thought of that. -In short, the Smith has never thought. In a Smithocracy all men, as -aforesaid, being equal, all are equally agreeable to one another. - -That is a logical extension of the Declaration of American -Independence. If it is erroneous the assumption that a man will be -pleasing to me because he is pleasing to another is erroneous too, and -to introduce me to one that I have not asked nor consented to know is -an invasion of my rights—a denial and limitation of my liberty to a -voice in my own affairs. It is like determining what kind of clothing I -shall wear, what books I shall read, or what my dinner shall be. - -In calling promiscuous introducing an American custom I am not unaware -that it obtains in other countries than ours. The difference is that -in those it is mostly confined to persons of no consequence and no -pretensions to respectability; here it is so nearly universal that -there is no escaping it. Democracies are naturally and necessarily -gregarious. Even the French of to-day are becoming so, and the time -is apparently not distant when they will lose that fine distinctive -social sense that has made them the most punctilious, because the most -considerate, of all nations excepting the Spanish and the Japanese. By -those who have lived in Paris since I did I am told that the chance -introduction is beginning to devastate the social situation, and men of -sense who wish to know as few persons as possible can no longer depend -on the discretion of their friends. - -To say so is not the same thing as to say “Down with the republic!” The -republic has its advantages. Among these is the liberty to say, “Down -with the republic!” - -It is to be wished that some great social force, say a billionaire, -would set up a system of disintroductions. It should work somewhat like -this: - -MR. WHITE—Mr. Black, knowing the low esteem in which you hold each -other, I have the honor to disintroduce you from Mr. Green. - -MR. BLACK (_bowing_)—Sir, I have long desired the advantage of your -unacquaintance. - -MR. GREEN (_bowing_)—Charmed to unmeet you, sir. Our acquaintance (the -work of a most inconsiderate and unworthy person) has distressed me -beyond expression. We are greatly indebted to our good friend here for -his tact in repairing the mischance. - -MR. WHITE—Thank you. I’m sure you will become very good strangers. - -This is only the ghost of a suggestion; of course the plan is capable -of an infinite elaboration. Its capital defect is that the persons -who are now so liberal with their unwelcome introductions, will be -equally lavish with their disintroductions, and will estrange the best -of friends with as little ceremony as they now observe in their more -fiendish work. - - 1902. - - - - - THE TYRANNY OF FASHION - - - I - -The mindless male of our species is commonly engaged in committing -an indelicate assault upon woman’s taste in dress. He is graciously -pleased to dislike the bright colors that she wears. Her dazzling -headgear, her blinding parasol, her gorgeous frock with its burning -bows and sunset streamers, the iridescence of her neckwear, the radiant -glories of her scarves and the flaming splendor of her hose—these -various and varied brilliances pain the eyes of this weakling, making -him sad. He seems so miserable that it is charity to wish that he had -died when he was little—when he was himself in hue (and cry) a blazing -scarlet. - -Every man to his taste; doubtless mine is barbaric. Anyhow, I like the -rich, bright bravery that the ladies wear. It is not a healthy eye that -is offended by intensity of color. It is not an honest taste that -admires it in a butterfly, a humming bird or a sunset, and derides it -in a woman. Nature is opulent of color; one has to look more than twice -to see what a wealth of brilliant hues are about him, so used to them -have our eyes become. They are everywhere—on the hills, in the air, -the water, the cloud. They float like banners in the sunlight and lurk -in shadows. No artist can paint them; none dares to if he could. The -critics would say he had gone mad and the public would believe them. -And it is wicked to believe a critic. - -Nature has no taste; she makes odious and hideous combinations of tints -that swear at one another like quarreling cats—hues that mutually rend -and slay. She has the unparalleled stupidity to spread a blue sky above -a green plain and draw it down to the horizon, where the two colors -exhaust themselves in debating their differences. To be quite plain -about it, Nature is a dowdy old vulgarian. She has no more taste than -Shakspeare. - -Just as Shakspeare poured out the unassorted jewels of his -inexhaustible understanding—cut, uncut, precious, bogus, crude, -contemptible and superb, all together, so Nature prodigally lavishes -her largess of color. I am not sure that Shakspeare did not teach her -the trick. Let the ladies, profiting by her bounty, emulate her virtues -and avoid her vice, each having due regard to her own kind of beauty, -and taking thought for its fitting embellishment and display. Let them -not permit the neutral-tinted minds of the “subdued-color” fiends to -fray them with utterance of feeble platitude. - -An intolerable deal of nonsense has been uttered, too, about the -heartlessness of fashionable women in wearing the plumage of -song-birds—and all women are fashionable, and therefore “heartless,” -whom fortune has favored with means to that end. It is conceded by -those who utter the nonsense that it does no good; and that fact alone -would make it nonsense if the lack of wisdom did not inhere in its -every proposition. No doubt the offending female is herself somewhat -punctured in the conscience of her as she goes beautifuling herself -with the “starry plumes” which “expanded shine with azure, green and -gold,” and remembers the unchristian censure entailed by her passion -for this manner of headgear. If so, let her take comfort in this -present assurance that she is only obeying an imperious mandate of her -nature, which is also a universal law. To be comely in the eyes of the -male—that is the end and justification of her being, and she knows it. -Moreover, to the task of its accomplishment she brings an intelligence -distinctly superior to that with which we judge the result. We may -say that we don’t like her to have a fledged head; and that may be -true enough: our error consists in thinking that this is the same -proposition as that we don’t like her with her head fledged. Clearly, -we do: we like her better with her feathers than without, and shall -continue to prefer her that way as long as she is likely to hold the -feathers in service; then we shall again like her better without them, -even as we liked her better with them. The lesson whereof is that what -are called the “caprices” of fashion have an underlying law as constant -as that of gravitation. - -In this one thing the woman is wise in her day and generation. She -may be unable to formulate her wisdom; it must, indeed be confessed -that she commonly makes a pretty bad attempt at explanation of -anything; but she knows a deal more than she knows that she knows. -One of the things that she perfectly apprehends is the evanescence of -æsthetic gratification, entailing the necessity of infinite variety -in the method of its production; and the knowledge of this is power. -In countries where the women of one generation adorn themselves as -the women of another did, they are slaves, and their bondage, I am -constrained to say, is just. Efface the caprices of fashion—let our -women look always the same, even their loveliest, and in a few years we -should be driving them in harness. If the fowls of the air can serve -her in averting the catastrophe, woman is right in employing their -artful aid. Moreover—a point hitherto overlooked—it is mostly men who -kill the fowls. - -Urged to its logical conclusion, the argument of the Audubon Society -(named in honor of the most eminent avicide of his time) against the -killing of song-birds to decorate their betters withal would forbid -the killing of the sheep, an amiable quadruped; the fur-seal—extremely -graceful in the water; the domestic cow—distinguished for matronly -virtues; and the donkey, which, although it has no voice, is gifted -with a fine ear and works up well into a superior foreign sausage. -In short, we should emancipate ourselves from Nature’s universal law -of mutual destruction, and, lest we efface something which has the -accidental property of pleasing some of our senses, go naked, feed upon -the viewless wind and sauce our privation with the incessant spectacle -of song-birds pitching into one another with tigerish ferocity and -committing monstrous excesses on bees and butterflies. - -We need not concern ourselves about “extermination”; the fashion is not -going to last long enough for that, and if it threatened to do so the -true remedy is not abstention, but breeding. Probably there was a time -when appeals were made for preservation of what is now the domestic -“rooster”—a truly gorgeous bird to look at. If he had not been good to -eat (in his youth) and his wife a patient layer their race would have -been long extinct. All that preserves the ostrich is the demand for its -plumage. If dead pigs were not erroneously considered palatable there -would not be a living pig within reach of man’s avenging arm. Who but -for the value of their scalps would be at the trouble and expense of -breeding coyotes? Thus we see how it is in the economy of nature that -out of the nettle danger the lower animals pluck the flower safety; and -it may easily be that the hatbird will owe its life to the profit that -we have in its death, and in the flare of the plume-hunter’s gun will -“hail the dawn of a new era.” - - - II - -Women have a comfortable way of personifying their folly under the name -“Fashion,” and laying their sins upon it. The “tyranny of Fashion” is -of a more iron-handed quality than that of anything else excepting Man. -I do steadfastly believe that many women have a distinct and definitive -conception of this monster as a gigantic biped (male, of course) ever -in session upon an iron throne, promulgating and enforcing brutal -decrees for their enslavement. Against this cruel being they feel that -rebellion would be perilous and remonstrance vain. The person who -complains of “the tyranny of fashion” is a self-confessed fool. There -is no such thing as fashion; it is as purely an abstraction as, for -example, indolence in a cat, or speed in a horse. Fancy a wild mare -complaining that she is a slave to celerity! Moralizers, literarians -and divers sorts of homilizers have been cracking this meatless nut -on our heads and comforting the stomachs of their understandings with -the imaginary kernel for lo! these many generations, and have even -persuaded the rest of us that there is something in it—as much, at -least as there was in the pocket of Lady Locket. It has not even so -much in it as that; not the half of it: the phrase “women’s slavery -to fashion” has absolutely _no_ meaning, and one about to use it -might as profitably use, instead, John Stuart Mill’s faultless example -of jargon: “Humpty Dumpty is an abracadabra.” Woman can not be called -submissive to fashion, for the submission and the thing submitted to -are the same thing. Even a woman can not be called a slave to slavery; -and it is the slavery that _is_ the fashion. What else can we -possibly mean by “fashion,” when using the word with reference to -women’s bondage, than women’s habit of dressing alike and badly? It -can not mean, in this connection, the style of their clothing; that -cannot “enslave”; and we do not speak of slavery to anything good -and desirable. Habit and addiction to habit are not two things, but -one. In short, women, having chosen to make fools of themselves, have -personified their folly and persuaded men to see in it a tyrant with a -chain and whip. - -The word fashion is used as a convenient generic term for a multitude -of related stupidities and cowardices in character and conduct, and -for the results of them. To say that one must “follow the fashions” is -to say that one is compelled to be stupid and cowardly. What compels? -Under what stress of compulsion are women in making themselves hideous -in one way or another all the time—each year a different kind of -hideousness? Who commands them to get their shoulders above their -heads, blow up their sleeves and elongate their lapels to suggest the -collar-points of a negro minstrel? When have not men tried to prevent -them from doing these things and remain content with a tideless -impulchritude—an ugliness having slight and slow vicissitudes, such as -themselves are satisfied withal? Doubtless women’s quarrel with their -outward and visible appearance is a natural and reasonable sentiment, a -noble discontent; for they do look scarecrows, and no mistake; but the -effect which they have at any given time achieved, and at which they -afterward are aghast, is not to be bettered by eternal tinkering with -the same tools. In new brains and a new taste lies their only hope of -repair; lacking which, they would do well to let Time the healer touch -our wounded eyes, and inurement bring toleration. - -“The iron hand of custom and tradition,” wails one of the female -disputants, “makes a pitiable race of us.” What a way to put it! Could -it not occur to this gentle creature that if we were not a pitiable -race—pitiable for our brute stupidity—custom and tradition would not be -iron-handed? We are savages in the same sense that the N’gamwanee is a -savage, who will not appear at any festival without his belly painted -a joyous sky-blue. But among us none is so amusing a savage as she who -squeals like a pig in a gate at “the tyranny of custom,” when nothing -is pinching her. - - - III - -An error analogous to this personification of her own folly as a -pitiless oppressor is that of considering at length and with gravity -the character, fortunes, motives and duties of “woman.” Woman does -not exist—there are women. Of woman nothing that has more than a -suggestive, literary or rhetorical value can be said. Like the word -“fashion,” the word “woman” is convenient, and of legitimate use by -persons of sense who understand that it is not the name of anything on -the earth, in the heavens above the earth, nor in the waters under the -earth—that there is nothing in nature corresponding to it. To others -its use should be interdicted, for like all abstract words, it is a -pitfall to their clumsy feet. If the word is used to signify the whole -body of women it obviously assumes that, with regard to the matters -under consideration, they are all alike—which is untrue, for some are -dead. If it means less than the whole body of women it is obligatory -upon the person using it to say precisely what proportion of the sex -it means. The way to determine woman’s true place in the social scheme -is simple: make an exhaustive inquiry into the character, capacities, -desires, needs and opportunities of every individual woman. When you -have finished the result will be glorious: you will know almost as much -as you knew before. - -Concerning woman, I should like to be allowed a brief digression -into the troubled territory of her “rights”—a field of contention in -which her champions manifest an inadequate conception of the really -considerable powers of Omnipotence. A distinguishing feature of this -logomachy is the frequent outcrop of a certain kind of piety that -is unconnected with any respect for, or belief in, the power of -Him evoking it. These linked assumptions of God’s worth and God’s -incompetence are made variously: sometimes by implication, sometimes -with a directness that distresses the agnostic and makes the atheist -blush. One disputant says: “Would a woman be less womanly because -conceited Man had granted her the rights that God intended she should -have?” Now, if man really has the power to baffle the divine will and -make the divine intentions void of effect he may reasonably enough -cherish a fairly good opinion of himself—perhaps any degree of conceit -that is consistent with his scriptural character of poor worm of the -dust. - -A noble example of piety undimmed by disrespect is that of a -Presbyterian minister, who began his remarks thus: “Has woman to-day -all the rights she ought to have—all the rights Christ meant her to -have? I fully concede she has not.” This is not very good English, -but I dare say it is good religion, this conception of Christ as -a “well-meaning person,” but without much influence in obtaining -favors for his friends. Anyhow, it is authenticated by the clerical -sign-manual, which sets it at a longer remove from blasphemy than at -first sight it may seem to be, and makes it so holy that I hardly -dared to mention it. I hope it is not irreverent to say so; it is not -said in that spirit, but I can not help thinking that if I were God I -should find some way to carry out my intentions; and that if I were -Christ and had not a sufficient influence to secure for Lively Woman -the rights that I meant her to have I should retire from public life, -sever my connection with the Presbyterian church and go to work. - - - IV - -Ladies of “health culture” clubs are sharply concerned about the length -of the skirts they wear. The purpose of their organizations, indeed, -is to protect them against their habit of wearing the skirts too -long. It has apparently not occurred to them that here, too, nobody -is compelling them to continue a disagreeable practice, and that with -a pair of scissors any woman can accomplish for herself all that she -wants the clubs to do for her. If the long skirt no longer please, -why not drop it? Nothing is easier. No concert of action definitely -agreed on was required to bring it in; none is required to oust it. -The enterprising gentleman who, having laid hold of the tail of a -bear, called lustily for somebody to help him let go, acted from an -intelligible motive, but I submit that if a woman stop following a -disagreeable fashion it will not turn and rend her. - -No more hideous garment than the skirt is knowable or thinkable. In its -every aspect it discloses an inherent and irremediable impulchritude. -It is devoid of even the imaginary beauty of utility, for it is not -only needless but obstruent, impeditive, oppugnant. Promoting the sense -of restraint, it enslaves the character. Had one been asked to invent -a garment that should make its wearer servile in spirit one would have -consulted the foremost living oppressor and designed the skirt. That -reasonless habiliment ought long ago to have been flung into Nature’s -vacant lot and found everlasting peace along with gone-before cats, -late-lamented dogs, unsouled tin cans and other appurtenances and -proofs of mortality. There is not a valid reason in the world why a -skirt of any length, shape or material should ever have been worn; -and one of the strongest evidences of women’s unfitness for a part in -the larger affairs of the race is their obstinacy in clinging to the -skirt—or rather in permitting it to cling to them. So long as women -garb their bodies and their legs foolwise they may profitably save that -part of their breath now wasted in becoloneling themselves and reducing -Tyrant Man to the ranks. - -Doubtless the skirt figures as one count in the long indictment against -the Oppressor Sex, as once bracelets and bangles did—it being pointed -out with acerbity that these are vestigial remnants of chains and -shackles. The same “claim” has been made for the eviscerating corset—I -forget upon what grounds. Of course men have had nothing to do with the -corset, excepting, in season and out of season, to implore women not to -wear it. The skirt we have merely tolerated, or from lack of thought -assented to. But if we were the sons of darkness which in deference to -the lady colonels we feel that we ought to confess ourselves, and if -we had been minded to enslave our bitter halves, we could hardly have -done better than to have “invented and gone round advising” the skirt. -Any constant restraint of the body reacts upon the mind. To hamper the -limbs is to subdue the spirit. Other things equal—which they could -not be—a naked nation would be harder to conquer than one accustomed -to clothing. The costume of the modern “civilized” man is bad enough -in this way, but that of his female is a standing challenge to the -fool-killer. Considering the use and purpose of the human leg, it seems -almost incredible that this hampering garment could have been imposed -upon women by anything less imperative than a divine commandment. - -One reads a deal about the “immodesty” of the skirtless costume, not, I -think, because any one believes it immodest, but because its opponents -find in that theme an assured immunity from prosecution in making an -indecent exposure of their minds. This talk of immodesty is simply one -manifestation of public immorality—the immorality of an age in which -it is considered right and reputable for women and girls, in company -with men, to witness the capering of actresses and dancers who in the -name of art strip themselves to the ultimate inch—whose every motion -in their saltatory rites is nicely calculated to display as much of -the person as the law allows! Why else do they whirl and spin till -their make-believe skirts are horizontal? Why else do they spring into -the air and come down like a collapsed parachute? These motions have -nothing of grace; in point of art they are distinctly disagreeable. -Their sole purpose is indelicate suggestion. Every male spectator -knows this; every female as well; yet we lie to ourselves and to one -another in justification—lie knowing that no one is thereby deceived -as to the nature of the performance and our motives in attending it. -We call it art, and if that flimsy fiction were insufficient would -doubtless call it duty. The only person that affects no illusion in the -matter is the exhibiting hussy herself. She at least is free of the sin -of hypocrisy—save when condemning “bloomers” in the public press. - -As censors of morals the ladies of the ballet are perhaps half-a-trifle -insincere; I like better the simple good faith of the austere society -dame who to a large and admiring audience of semi-nude men displays her -daughter’s charms of person at the bathing beach, with an occasional -undress parade of her own ample endowments. She is in deadly earnest, -the good old girl—she is entirely persuaded of the wickedness of the -“bloomers.” Why, it would hardly be more indelicate (she says) to -wear her bathing habit in the street or drawing-room! If she were -not altogether destitute of reason she would deprive herself of that -illustration, for a costume is no more indelicate in one public place -than in another. One of the congenital ear-marks of the Philistine -understanding is inability to distinguish inappropriateness from -immodesty—bad taste from faulty morals. The blush that would crimson -the cheek of a woman shopping in evening dress (and women who wear -evening dress sometimes retain the blush-habit; such are the wonders -of heredity!) would indubitably have its origin in a keen sense of -exposure. It would make a cat laugh, but it would be an honest blush -and eminently natural. The phenomenon requiring an explanation is the -no-blush when she is caught in the same costume at a ball or a dinner. - -In nations that cover the body for another purpose than decoration and -protection from the weather, disputes as to how much of it, and in what -circumstances, should be covered are inevitable and uncomposable. Alike -in nature and in art, the question of the nude will be always demanding -adjustment and be never adjusted. This wrangle we have always with us -as a penalty for the prudery of concealment, creating and suggesting -the prurience of exposure. - - Offended Nature hides her lash - In the purple-black of a dyed mustache, - -and the lash lurks in every fold of the clothing of her choice. In -ancient Greece the disgraceful squabble was unknown; it did not occur -to the great-hearted, broad-brained and wholesome people of that -blessed land that any of the handiwork of the gods was ignoble. Nor are -the modern Japanese vexed with “the question of the nude”; save where -their admirable civilization has suffered the polluting touch of ours -they have not learned the infamy of sex. Among the blessings in store -for them are their conversion to decorous lubricity and instruction in -the nice conduct of a clouded mind. - -I am not myself prepared to utter judgment in all these matters. I -do not know the precise degree of propriety in a lady’s “full dress” -at dinner, nor exactly how suggestive it is at breakfast. I can not -say with accuracy when and where and why a costume is immodest that -is modest in a mixed crowd at the sea beach. But this I know, despite -all the ingenious fictions, subtleties and sophistries wherewith -naked Nonsense is accustomed to drape herself as with a skeletonized -fig-leaf: that no man nor any woman addicted to play-going, society -entertainments and surf-bathing has the right to censure any costume -that is tolerated by the police. As to the “bloomers,” they have not a -suggestion of indelicacy, and of the person who professes to see it in -them I, for one, am fatigued and indisposed; and I confidently affirm -the advantage to the commonwealth of binding him to his own back and -removing the organ that he is an idiot with. - -I have the vanity to think it already known to me why our women wear -the skirt—just as it is known to me why the women of certain African -tribes load themselves with enormous metal neck-rings and the male of -their variety attaches a cow-tail to his barren rear. But what these -impedimental adornments are for, the wearers can no more explain than -the Caucasian female (assisted by her “man of equal mind”) can expound -the purpose of her skirt, nor even be made to understand that its -utility is actually challenged. But what would one have? Wisdom comes -of mental freedom; are we to look for that in victims and advocates of -physical restraint? Can we reasonably expect large intellectual strides -in those who voluntarily hamper their legs? Is it to be believed -that an unremittent sense of hindrance will not affect the mind and -character? With woman’s inconsiderable reasoning power the skirt, -the corset and the finery have had as much to do as anything. If she -wants emancipation from the imaginary tyranny of Man the Monster, let -her show herself worthy of it by overthrowing the actual despotism -maintained by herself. Let her unbind her body and liberate her legs; -then we shall know if she has a mind that can be taught to stand alone -and march without the suasion of a bayonet. - - 1895. - - - - - BREACHES OF PROMISE - - -There should be no such thing as an action for a breach of promise -of marriage. An action for promise of marriage would be in some ways -preferable, for where damages ensue it is the promise that has caused -them. Doubtless the hurt heart of one who is abandoned by her lover, -especially after providing the trousseau and kindly apprising all her -rivals, is justly entitled to sympathetic commiseration, but the pain -is one that the law can not undertake to heal. In theory at least it -concerns itself with actual privation of such pecuniary advantages as -would have accrued to the plaintiff from marriage with the defendant, -and such other losses as can be denoted by the figures of arithmetic. -If the defendant were liable for the pain he inflicted by breaking -his promise he might justly demand compensation for the joy that he -gave in making it. Where the courtship had been long there might be a -considerable balance in his favor. Nor is it altogether clear that he -ought not to be allowed to file a counter-claim based upon the profit -of getting rid of him. - -But is the loss of a merely promised advantage a loss that ought to -be a matter of legal inquiry and repair? In the promise to pay money, -and in papers transferring property from one person to another, -it is requisite that a “consideration” be expressed: the person -claiming value from another must show that value was given. What is -the consideration in the case of a marriage-promise? What computable -value has the defendant in a breach of promise case received that the -plaintiff could, or if she could would care to, estimate in dollars -and cents? Would she undertake to submit an itemized bill? As a rule, -the promiser of marriage receives nothing for which the performance of -his promise would be an “equivalent” in the commercial sense. True, he -obtains by his promise certain privileges which (it is said) he deems -precious; but all the accepted authorities on this subject declare that -in the exercise of these he imparts no small satisfaction to the person -bestowing them. - -Accurately speaking, then, a promise of marriage is a promise without -consideration; and whatever merely sentimental injuries result -from its infraction might justly be squared by a merely sentimental -reparation. Perhaps it would be enough if the injured plaintiff in -a breach of promise suit were awarded the illusory advantage but -acceptable gratification of wigging the defendant’s attorney. - -It may be said that the defendant’s equivalent for his promise was the -lady’s tender of such services as wives perform for husbands—among -which the peasant-born humorist of the period loves to enumerate such -mysterious functions as “building the fire” and assisting to search -for the soap in the bath-tub. But it must not be overlooked that this -tender is itself only a promise whereof the performance fails, along -with that of the one for which it is given in exchange: the fire -remains unbuilded and the soap is lost. One unfulfilled promise is no -better than another. Nay, it is not so good. - -But if we are to have suits for breach of promise of marriage it can -at least be so ordered that there shall be no question of proof. An -act of the legislature is enough for that. Let there be a law that -marriage engagements to be valid shall be in writing. This would work -no hardship to anybody, and would be a pleasing contrast to the law -which does _not_ require any authenticating formality for the -marriage itself. If a man really wish and mean to marry he will not be -unwilling to say so over his hand and seal, and have the declaration -duly attested. The lack of such evidence as this should be a bar to any -action. It is admitted that this rigorous requirement would be pretty -hard on such ladies as rich bachelors and widowers have the hardihood -to be civil to, and that it would deprive the intelligent juror of -such delight as he derives from giving away another man’s property -without loss to himself. Its advantage would be found in its tendency -to prevent the courts of law from being loaded up with the class of -cases under consideration, to the exclusion of much other business. The -number of wealthy men increases yearly with the country’s prosperity, -and they grow more and more unmarried. Under the present system they -are easy prey, but the operation of despoiling them is tedious; -wherefore worthy assassins are compelled to wait an unconscionably -long time for acquittal. The reform that I venture to suggest would -disembarrass the courts of the ambitious “ladifrend” and the scheming -domestic, and give the murderers a chance. As a matter of expediency, I -think a man should be permitted to change his mind as to whom he will -marry, as frequently as it may please him to do so; almost any change -in the mind of a man in love must be in the direction of improvement. - - - - - THE TURKO-GRECIAN WAR - - -The Turks are not the ferocious fanatics that our respect for the -commandment against bearing false witness does not forbid us to -affirm. They are a good-natured, rather indolent people, among whom -all races and religions find security in good behavior, and, in so far -as differences of social and religious customs will allow, fraternity. -They are a trifle corrupt, but from neither an American legislator nor -his constituents is censure of political profligacy in other lands -than ours an edifying utterance. In Mohammedan countries even slavery -is a light affliction. As to “savagery,” “butchery” and the rest of -it, let the ten thousand Americans murdered with impunity by their own -countrymen last year open their white lips and testify. And let the ten -thousand who are to be murdered this year reserve judgment on the right -of the American character to mount the pulpit and deal damnation round -on heads that wear the fez. - -Like the Bulgarian “massacres” of a few years ago, which so pained -the blameless soul of Christendom and drew from holy Mr. Gladstone -that Christianly charitable term, “the unspeakable Turk,” the Armenian -“massacres” are mostly moonshine—as massacres. It should never be -forgotten that our accounts of these deplorable events come almost -altogether from Christian missionaries—narrow, bigoted zealots, -who doubtless stand well in the other world, but in this world are -untrustworthy historians of the troubles which their impenitent -meddlesomeness incites. They are swift and willing witnesses, and their -interest lies in the direction of exaggeration. Not much of moderation -and disinterestedness can under any circumstances be expected of -persons who make it the business of their lives to go abroad to -crack theological nuts upon the heads of others and eat the kernels -themselves. A man of sane heart and right reason will no more interfere -with the spiritual affairs of others than with their temporal. This -much any one may know who has the sense to learn: that the troubles in -Armenia are not religious persecutions, but political disturbances, -and that next to Mohammedan Kurds the most incorrigible scamps in Asia -are Armenian Christians. - -Among military men the superior character of Turkish soldiers is a -familiar consideration. The war minister or general who should order -or conduct a campaign against them without conceding to their terrible -fighting qualities a particular attention in reckoning the chances -of success would show a lamentable ignorance of his business. For -that veritable folly the Greeks recently paid through the nose. With -a childish trust in an enthusiasm that hardly outlasted the smoke of -the first gun, they threw their undisciplined crowds against superior -numbers of these formidable fighters in a quarrel in which their only -hope of national existence if beaten lay in the magnanimity of the -Powers whose protection they disclaimed. It is by the sufferance and -grace of these Powers that the name of Greece remains on the map of -Europe. - -All this sentiment about the debt that civilization owes to Greece is -foolish: the Greece to which civilization is indebted for its glorious -heritage of art, philosophy and literature is dead these many ages—a -memory and a name. The debtor is without a creditor, the claimant -without a claim. Greece would herself be justly liable for her share -of the debt if there were anybody to whom to pay it. As to the claims -of “our common religion” (that is, the right to our assistance in -violating our common religion’s fundamental and most precious precepts) -it should be sufficient to say that if the modern Greek is a Christian -Christ was not. If Christ were among the Athenians to-day they would -part his raiment among them before crucifixion and cast lots for his -vesture with loaded dice. - -From the first the cause of the Greeks was hopeless. They were a feeble -nation making unjust war against a strong one. They were a merely -warlike people attacking a military people—the worst soldiers in -Europe, without commanders, challenging the best soldiers in the world -led by two able strategists. Without resources, without credit, without -allies, and relying upon miracles, they flung themselves upon an enemy -favored by united Europe. It was the act not of heroes, but of madmen. -Had they been content to accept the autonomy of Crete their action in -occupying that island would have commanded at least the respect of -every poker-player in the world. Demanding all, they naturally got -nothing. True, they had the moral support of that part of Christendom -addicted to the flourish of tongues, and were particularly rich in -resolutions of American sympathy, some of them beautifully engrossed on -parchment. - -One of the most amusing rascalities of that war was the attempt -to invest it with a religious character. This smug villainy was -especially manifest in the “resolutions” and the telegrams of press -correspondents, from whom we heard very little about the Turks and the -Greeks, but a great deal about the “Moslems” and the “Christians.” Even -the soldierly superiority of the Turks in valor and discipline was -perverted to their disparagement. We were told of their “mad, fanatical -charges,” which by way of variety were called also “irresistible rushes -of crazy zealots”; and one splendorous historiographer described -the victorious battalions as “drunken with Armenian blood”! How to -distinguish between an assault that is fanatical and one that is merely -courageous—that is a secret that neither the saintly scribe nor the -sober Greek lingered to learn. In a general way the gallant charge is -made by troops of our own race and religion, the fanatical rush by -those of another and inferior faith. - -Hardly less brilliant were the accounts of “Moslem” cruelty, -particularly to prisoners, under whom their captors kindled -discomforting fires—a needless labor, for it would have been greatly -easier to make the fire on unoccupied ground and superpose the prisoner -afterward. The customary rites of parting the heads of women and -eviscerating babes were not neglected: all the requirements of invasion -received careful attention—as they did in Cuba, as they once did in -France, as they previously did in the Southern States of our Union, and -before that in the revolted colonies of Great Britain. Edhem Pasha was -a strict constructionist of the popular law; as a conscientious invader -operating among an inhospitable populace, he thoughtfully gave himself -the trouble to be a “butcher”—as Cornwallis was in the Colonies, as -Grant was in the South, as Von Moltke was in France, and as Weyler -was in Cuba. If it were not for picturesque narratives of tortured -prisoners, multisected women, children ingeniously bayoneted and old -men fearfully and wonderfully defaced by the hand of an artist, the -literature of conquest would lack the salt that keeps it sweet in the -memory and the spice that gives it glow. - -Of course it is all nonsense: cruelties are not practiced in modern -wars between civilized nations. (It is true that the Turks, or some of -them, are so uncivilized as to have a number of Turkesses each, but -that is not visibly bad for them, and appears to be condemned on the -ground that it is somehow bad for us.) Indubitably Turkey’s doom as a -European Power was long ago pronounced in the Russian language, but -she dies with a dignity befitting her glorious history. Foot to foot -and sword to sword she struggles with the hosts assailing her, now on -this side, and now on that. Against attack by her powerful neighbors -and insurrection of her heterogeneous provinces, she has manifested a -courage, a vitality, a fertility of resource, a continuity and tenacity -of purpose which in a Christian nation would command our respect and -engage our enthusiasm. Unfortunately for them, her people worship God -in a way that is different from our way, and with a sincerity which -in us would be zeal if we had it, but which in them is fanaticism. -Therefore they are hateful. Therefore they are unspeakable. Therefore -we lie about them and, because of the respectability of the witnesses, -believe our own lies. Truth is not in us, nor the sense of its need; -charity nor the memory of its primacy among virtues. - - 1897. - - - - - CATS OF CHEYENNE - - -The city of Cheyenne, Wyoming, recently experienced a peculiar and -singularly sharp affliction in the insanity of all its cats. Cheyenne -cats had theretofore been regarded as the most level-headed and least -mercurial of their species. Nothing in their aspect nor demeanor -had been observed to justify a suspicion that they suffered from -uncommonness of mind; then they developed symptoms of such pronounced -intellectual independence that even the local physicians, inured -to all phases and degrees of eccentricity in the human contingent -of Cheyenne’s population, were unable to ignore the melancholy -significance of the phenomena—the cats of Cheyenne were indubitably as -mad as hatters. - -To him who has duly considered the cat’s place in the scheme of modern -civilization, the actual calamity will suggest possibilities of the -most dismal and gruesome sort. In imagination he will see (and hear) -the mental epidemic spreading by contagion until it affects the cats -of the whole world, and perhaps those of Denver. The musical outlook -is discouraging: the orchestration of a feline lunatic in one of its -deuced intervals can be nothing less than appalling! Fancy a maniacal -male of the species, beneath his favorite window of the dormitory -of a hospital for nervous insomnia, securely casemented in an empty -crate and courting rather than avoiding the assaults of the wild -bootjacquerie above, while twanging his disordered fiddle-strings for -the production of - - a long unmeasured tone - To mortal minstrelsy unknown, - -and then executing such variants of his theme as no rational cat has -ever been able or willing to compose! - -The cause of the outbreak was no less remarkable than the outbreak -itself: the cats of Cheyenne incurred mental confusion from being -supercharged with electricity. For a period of seven weeks the wind -blew across the delightful region of which that city is the capital, at -a calculated average velocity of thirty miles an hour. “The ground in -consequence,” according to a resident scientist, “has become extremely -dry, and the friction of the wind in passing over it has produced -an enormous quantity of electricity, and every one is more or less -charged.” So seriously indeed were some of the newer residents affected -that they have had to leave Cheyenne and go to California for relief; -and of those remaining it is related that even now when they shake -hands there is a distinct and painful shock to him who is the less -electrified. The performance of this social rite has therefore fallen -into “innocuous desuetude,” men conscious of being imperfectly charged -eying every approaching friend with natural suspicion, and preferring -to pain him with a distant bow rather than incur the thunderbolt of -a more familiar greeting. It is not apprehended that our most sacred -American custom is menaced with anything more than local and temporary -suspension, but it is feared that the American cat is on the eve of -stupendous intellectual and musical changes that will make the name of -Cheyenne memorable forever. - - - - - THANKSGIVING DAY - - -There be those whose memories though vexed with a rake would yield -no matter for gratitude. With a waistcoat fitted to the occasion, it -is easy enough to eat one’s allowance of turkey and hide away one’s -dishonest share of the wine; if this be returning thanks, why, then, -gratitude is considerably easier, and vastly more agreeable, than -“falling off a log,” and may be acquired in one easy lesson. But if -more than this be required—if to be grateful is more than merely to be -gluttonous, your true philosopher (he of the austere brow upon which -logic has stamped its eternal impress, and from whose heart sentiment -has been banished along with other vestigial vices) will think twice -and again before leveling his serviceable shins in humble observance of -the day. - -For here is the nut of reason that he is compelled to crack for the -kernel of emotion appropriate to the rite. Unless the blessings that -we think we enjoy are favors of the Omnipotent, to be grateful is -to be absurd. If they are, then, also, the evils with which we are -indubitably afflicted have the same origin. Grant this, as you must, -and you make an offset of the ill against the good, or are driven -either to the untenable position that we should be grateful for both, -or the no more defensible one that all evils are blessings in disguise. - -Truth is, my fine fellow of the distensible weskit, your annual -gratitude is a sorry pretense, a veritable sham, a cloak, dear man, -to cover your unhandsome gluttony; and when by chance you actually do -take to your knees on one day in the year it is for physical relief and -readier digestion of your bird. Nevertheless, there is truly a subtle -but significant relation between the stuffing of the flesh and the -gratitude of the spirit, as you shall see. - -I have ever held and taught the identity of Stomach and Soul—one -entity considered under two aspects. Gratitude I believe to be a kind -of imponderable ether evolved, mainly, from the action of the gastric -fluid upon rich provend and comforting tope. Like other gases it -ascends, and so passes out at mouth, audible, intelligible, gracious. -This beautiful theory has been tested by convincing experiment in the -manner scientific, as here related. - -_Experiment I._ A quantity of grass was put into a leathern bottle -and a gill of the gastric fluid of a sheep introduced. In ten minutes -the neck of the bottle emitted a contented bleat. - -_Experiment II._ A pound of beef was substituted for the grass and -the fluid of a dog for that of the sheep. The result was a cheerful -bark, accompanied by agitation of the bottom of the bottle, as if an -attempt were making to wag it. - -_Experiment III._ The bottle was charged with a handful of -chopped turkey, a glass of old port, and four ounces of human gastric -fluid obtained from a coroner. At first nothing escaped from the neck -but a deep sigh of satisfaction, followed by a grunt like that of a -banqueting pig. The proportion of turkey being increased and the gas -confined, the bottle was greatly distended, appearing to suffer a -slight uneasiness. The restriction being removed, the experimenter had -the happiness to hear, distinctly articulated, the words: “Praise God, -from whom all blessings flow—praise Him all bottles here below!” - -Against such demonstration as this all theological interpretation of -the phenomena of gratitude is of no avail. - - 1869. - - - - - THE HOUR AND THE MAN - - -Contrary to popular belief, “the hour” does not always bring “the man.” -It did not bring him for France in 1870. In our civil war it brought -him for the Confederacy, but a chance bullet took him off. Every defeat -of a cause discredits anew the superstition about “the hour and the -man.” When the hour strikes, the man may be already present and not -hear. The “mute, inglorious Milton,” dying with all his music in him, -is no more real a character than the mute, inglorious Cæsar trudging -along in the ranks, unsuspected by his comrades and unaware of himself. -Even if conscious of his own consummate genius, and impressing a sense -of it upon others, it is by no means certain that he will come to the -control. An intrigue, the selfish jealousy of some little soul in -authority, the caprice of a woman behind the throne, an unfortunate -peculiarity of manner in himself, a stumbling horse, a random -bullet—any one of ten thousand accidents may deprive his country of -the stupendous advantage of his directing hand. - -It was once the fashion among the school of thinkers of which that -truly great man, John Stuart Mill, was the head almost altogether to -ignore the “personal equation” in matters of “great pith and moment.” -They recognized the trend of tendencies—great currents of energy which -apparently had an existence and control quite independent of, and apart -from, human agency. In their view, individual men, so far from guiding -the course of events, were borne along by them like leaves by the wind. -They taught, by implication if not directly, that the Europe of their -day would have been pretty much the same without, for example, the -Napoleon of the day before. The conception of a single dominating mind -bending other minds to its will and working stupendous changes, even by -its caprices, these philosophers considered altogether too primitive -and crude for the world’s manhood, and most of us who were young in -their day assisted in discrediting their theory by reverently accepting -it. We have recovered now; nobody to-day thinks after that fashion of -thought, excepting Tolstoi. The importance of the individual will, -consciously striving for the attainment of definitive ends, yet subject -to all the caprices of chance and accident, is restored in the minds of -men to its own reign of reason. - -Considering the matter only in the limited view of its relation to -military success, we all see, or suppose ourselves to see, that -if Marlborough had died of measles when he was John Churchill; if -Frederick had burst a blood vessel in one of his blind rages before he -became the Great; if Carnot had fallen down a cellar stairway when he -was a boy; if Napoleon had been knocked over at the bridge of Arcola, -or Von Moltke had deserted to the French and been given command of the -column that was headed for Berlin, the historian of to-day would have -had a Europe to deal with which it is impossible now even to conceive. -Suppose that “the hour” had not brought John Sobieski to confront -the victorious Turk a couple of centuries ago. Europe might now be -Mohammedan and the word Russia destitute of meaning. Considerations of -this character may advantageously be permitted to teach us humility in -the matter of prophecy, and particularly with reference to military -undertakings, than the result of which nothing is more beset with -accident and dependent upon the unknowable and incalculable. - - - - - MORTUARY ELECTROPLATING - - -To the proposition that electroplating the dead is the best way to -dispose of them there is this considerable objection—it does not -dispose of them. The plan is not without its advantages, some of which -are obvious enough to mention. Nothing, for example, can be more -satisfactory to a husband engaged in dying than the reflection that -as a nickel-plated statue of himself he may still adorn the conjugal -fireside and become an object of peculiar interest and sympathy to -his successor. There are few remains, indeed, to whom this would not -seem a softer billet than “to lie in cold obstruction” in a cemetery, -from which, after all, one is usually routed out in a few years to -accommodate a corner grocery or a boarding-house. - -The light cost of ornamenting our public buildings with distinguished -men themselves, as compared with the present enormous expense of -obtaining statues of them, will commend the régime of electroplating -to every frugal taxpayer and make him hail its dawn with a peculiar -joy. In order to make the most of this advantage it is to be hoped -that any public-spirited “prominent citizen” feeling his sands of life -about run out, would consent to be posed by an artist in some striking -and heroic attitude, ready for the _rigor mortis_ to fix him in -it for the plater. It would be but a trifling sacrifice for a great -writer to pass the last ten minutes of his life cross-legged in a -chair, with a pen in one hand and a thumb and forefinger of the other -spanning a space on his dome of thought. A distinguished statesman -would not find it so very inconvenient to breathe his last standing in -the characteristic attitude of his profession, his left thumb supported -in the opening of a waistcoat thoughtfully constructed to button the -wrong way, and his right hand holding a scroll. In dying grandly on the -acclivity of a rearing horse, a famous warrior could at the same time -lay his countrymen under an added obligation and assist them fitly to -discharge it. - -The process of electroplation (if one may venture to anticipate a -word that is inevitable) does not, unluckily, permit us to retain -the deceased “in his habit as he lived,” textile fabrics not being -susceptible to the magic of its method; but the figures of eminent -decedents exposed in public places to fire the ambition of American -youth could be provided with real tailor-made suits, either in the -fashion of their time and Congressional district or in that of ancient -Rome, as might be preferred by the public taste for the time being, -and the tailors’ bills would probably, in some instances, be almost -as interesting, if not nearly so startling, as that item in an early -English Passion-play account, in which the management is charged five -shillings and sixpence for “a cote for Godd.” - -To that entire class of decedents whom we may call -eminent-public-services men, the objection that electroplating the dead -does not permanently dispose of them has no practical application. -Of them we do not wish to dispose; we want to retain them for -embellishment of our parks, the façades of our public buildings and -the walls of our art galleries. But in its relation to “vulgar deaths -unknown to fame” the objection is indeed fatal. If this mortal is going -to put on immortality in so strictly literal a sense—if the dead are to -be still with us in a tangible and visible reality, the fact will be -embarrassing, no doubt. Under a régime in which a dead man will take up -as much room as a living one, it is evident that the dead in general -will take up a deal more than the living, and the disproportion will -increase at an alarming rate. - -Science assures us that but for death—including decay—the world would -now be so overcrowded that there would be “standing room only,” -even for scientists. Electroplating proposes to enjoin decay. Is -it advisable? Is it wise? Is it fair to posterity? Shall we impose -ourselves upon those who “inherit us,” without providing for the -expense of our warehousing? It can hardly be expected that even the -most “well-preserved old gentleman” will be an object of veneration -and affection to his great-great-great-grandchild, even if he is so -fortunate as to be authentic—unless, indeed, he happen to be plated -with gold. In that case, though, he would be hardly likely to descend -intact to so remote a generation. An unusually comely electroplatee of -the opposing sex might be a joy forever as a work of art, and the task -of polishing her be a labor of love for many centuries; but the common -ruck of hard-shell ancestors, although bearing inscriptions attesting -their possession of the loftiest virtues in their day and generation, -would inspire an insufficiently tender emotion to pay for their lodging. - -The time when our beautiful, but not altogether wholesome, cemeteries -shall be no more, and in the place of them countless myriads of -battered and rusted images shall be corded up like firewood all over -the smiling land is a time which we may be thankful that we shall not -live to see, and which our love of display should not make us selfishly -assist in expediting. It is a glittering temptation, but in fair play -to posterity (which has never done anything to embarrass us) it ought -to be put resolutely aside. - - - - - THE AGE ROMANTIC - - -Who would not like to have been an Athenian of the time of Pericles? -Yet who would have liked to be one? The Periclesian Athenian whom we -would all like to have been—provided that we could be also Rooseveltian -Americans—took little thought, doubtless, of “the glory that was -Greece.” He considered himself singularly unfortunate to live in so -prosaic an age. Ah, if he could only have been born an Assyrian in -the golden prime of good King Assurbanipal, before the invention of -such hideous commonplaces as mathematics, oratory, navigation (with -its flaring pharos on every headland), its bad poets, its Pan and the -peplum! - -A picturesque period is always remote in time; a picturesque land, -in distance. It is of the essence of the picturesque that it be -unfamiliar. Look at the suave Mexican _caballero_ with his -silvered _sombrero_, his silken sash, embroidered jacket fearfully -and wonderfully bebraided, his ornate footgear. How he shines in the -light of his uncommon identity!—how dull we look, how odious in the -comparison! Can it be possible that this glorious creation envies -us the engaging simplicity of our habiliments and the charm of our -unstudied incivility? And does he execute a rapture over the title -“Mister” and the soft, musical vocables of the name “John Henry Smith”? - -Who would care to lose his life in ascending White Mountain by a new -trail? But Mont Blanc—that is different. - - Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains; - They crowned him long ago, - -but be sure it was no Frenchman that did the crowning—not with such -a name as that! And if the exigencies of the literary situation had -compelled Coleridge to think of him in the vernacular he would never -have stood in the valley of Chamouni asking him who sank his sunless -pillars deep in earth. “White Mountain” is well enough in its way if -one think only of its color; but there is the disquieting possibility -that it was named in honor of its discoverer (Ezekiel White, of -Podunk) like the eminences that “stand dressed in living green” down in -New Hampshire. - -Call Capri “Goat Island” and you class it with an abomination of that -name in the harbor of San Francisco. To the Neapolitan looking - - Across the charmed bay - Whose blue waves keep, with Capri’s sunny fountains, - Perpetual holiday - -it is just Goat Island, and it is nothing more. The sunny fountains and -the famous sea-caverns do not interest him. They are possibly fine, but -indubitably familiar. - -All this has perhaps something to do with contentment; it may go a -short way toward making us willing to be alive. We hear much from the -writer-folk about the horrors of this commercial age, the dull monotony -of modern life, the depressing daily contact with the things we loathe, -to wit, railways, steamships, telephones, electric street-cars and -other prosaic things which, when we are not boasting of them, we are -reviling. We shudder to think of the railway from Joppa to Jerusalem -(if there is one) and sigh for the good old days of the camel—even as -we sigh for those of the stage-coach, whereby the traveler met with -many romantic adventures in lonely roads and at wayside inns. Well, -as to all that, it is still possible to renounce one’s purse to a -“road agent” between Squaw Gulch and Ginger Gap if one wish to, and -“hold-ups” are not altogether unknown to those who in default of the -stage-coach are compelled to travel by express trains. - -Is any spectacle really more interesting than a railway train in -motion? Why, even the stolidest laborer in the field, or the most -_blasé_ switchman off duty, takes a moment off to stare at it. -By night, with its dazzling headlight, its engine eating fire and -breathing steam and smoke, its flashes of red light upon the trees as -its furnace doors are opened and closed, its long line of gleaming -windows, the roar and clang of its progress—not in the world is -anything more fascinating, more artistic nor, but for its familiarity, -more picturesque. - -It is so all round: the Atlantic liner is a nobler sight than the -clipper ship of our fathers, as that was a nobler sight than the carvel -of _their_ fathers, and that than the Roman trireme—each in its -turn lamented by solemn protagonists of “the days that are no more” and -might advantageously never have been. How the intellectual successors -of these lugubrious persons will envy their dead predecessors in the -days that are to come! As they go careering through the sky in their -airships they will blow apart the clouds with sighs of regret for the -golden age of the express train, the trolley car and the automobile. -While penetrating the ocean between the German port of Liverpool and -the Japanese port of New York they will read with avid interest quaint -old chronicles relating to steam-driven vessels that floated on the -surface and had many a merry bout with wind and wave. Immersed in -waters all aglow with artificial light and color, passing in silence -and security above charming landscapes of the sea, and among - - The wide-faced, infamous monsters of the deep, - -they will deplore their hard lot in living in so prosaic an age, “even -as you and I.” - -The truth of it all is that we of to-day are favored beyond the power -of speech to express in having been born in so fascinating and -romantic a period. Not in literature, not in art, but in those things -that touch the interest and hold the attention of all classes alike, -the last century was as superior to all those that went before as -a bird of paradise is superior in beauty and interest to a slug of -the field. Science and invention have made our world a spectacular -extravaganza, a dream of delight to the senses and the mind. Man has -employment for all his eyes and all his ears. Yet always he throws a -longing look backward to the barbarism to which eventually he will -return. - - 1902. - - - - - THE WAR EVERLASTING - - - I - -For thousands of years—doubtless for hundreds of thousands—an -incessant civil war has been going on in every country that has even -a rudimentary civilization, and the prospect of peace is no brighter -to-day than it was at the beginning of hostilities. This war, with its -dreadful mortality and suffering, loses none of its violence in times -of peace; indeed, a condition of national tranquillity appears to be -most favorable to its relentless prosecution: when the people are not -fighting foreigners they have more time for fighting one another. -This never-ending internal strife is between the law-breaking and the -law-abiding classes. The latter is the larger force—at least it is -the stronger and is constantly victorious, yet never takes the full -benefit of its victory. The commander of an army who should so neglect -his opportunities would be recalled in disgrace, for it is a rule of -warfare to take the utmost possible advantage of success. - -There should be no such person as an habitual criminal, and there -would be none if criminals were not permitted to breed. There are -several ways to prevent them—some, like perpetual imprisonment, too -expensive; others impossible of discussion here. The best practical -and discussible way is to kill them. And in this is no injustice. The -man who will not live at peace with his countrymen has no inherent -right to live at all. The community against which he wages private war -has as clear a right to deprive him of his life as of his liberty by -imprisonment, or his property by fines. - -We grade crimes and punishments only for expediency, not because there -are degrees of guilt, for it is as easy to obey the law against theft -as the law against murder, and the true criminality of an offense -against the state lies in its infraction of the law, not in the damage -to its victim. The venerable dictum that, whereas - - It is a sin to steal a pin, - It is a greater to steal a potater, - -is brilliant, but erroneous. Logically there are no degrees of crime; -a misdemeanor is as hardy a defiance of the community as a felony. -The distinction is an administrative fiction to facilitate punishment. -It is thought that rather than condemn a misdemeanant to perpetual -restraint in prison or death on the gallows jurors would acquit him; -and indubitably they would. The purpose of these feeble remarks is to -lead public opinion upward through flowery paths of reason to a higher -philosophy and a broader conception of duty. - -My notion is that a great saving of life and property could be effected -by extermination of habitual criminals. Some crime would remain. Under -the stress of want, men would occasionally take the property of others; -crazed by sudden rage, they would sometimes slay; and so forth. But -crimes of premeditation would disappear and the enormously expensive -machinery of justice could be abolished. One small prison might -suffice for an entire nation. A few courts of criminal jurisdiction, -an insignificant constabulary, would preserve the peace and punishment -could be made truly reformatory—it would not need to be deterrent. In -short, the dream of the reformer, with his everlastingly futile methods -of deterrence by mental and moral education, could be made to come to -pass in a generation or two by the forthright and merciful plan of -effacing the criminal class. - -Of course I do not mean to advocate the death penalty for every -premeditated infraction of the law, nor do I know how many convictions -should be considered as proving the offender an habitual criminal; -but certainly I think that, having exceeded the number allowed him, -his right to life should be held to have lapsed and he should be -removed from this vale of tears forthwith. The fact that a man who -habitually breaks the law may be better than another who habitually -obeys it, or the fact that he who is convicted may be less guilty than -he who escapes conviction, has nothing to do with the matter. If we -can not remove all the irreclaimable the greater is the expediency of -removing all that we can catch and convict. The law’s inadequacy and -inconsistency are patent, but they constitute the silliest plea for -“mercy” that stupidity has ever invented. - - - II - -This is an age of mercy to the merciless. The good Scriptural code, “An -eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” has fallen into the sere and -yellow leaf: it is a creed outworn. We have replaced it with a regime -of “reformation,” a penology of persuasion. In our own country this -sign and consequence of moral degeneration, this power and prevalence -of the mollycoddle, are especially marked. We no longer kill our -assassins; as a rule, the only disadvantages they suffer for killing us -are those incident to detention for acquittal, with a little preaching -to remind them of their mortality. Wherefore our homicide list is about -twice annually that of the battle of Gettysburg. - -The American prison of to-day is carefully outfitted with the comforts -of home. Those who succeed in breaking into it find themselves -distinctly advantaged in point of housing, and are clothed and fed -better than they ever were before, or will be elsewhere. Light -employment, gentle exercise, cleanliness, and sound sleep reward them, -and when expelled their one ambition is to go back. The “reformation” -consists in lifting them to a higher plane of criminality: the man who -enters as a stupid thief is graduated a competent forger, and comes -back (if he can) with an augmented self-respect and an ambition to kill -the warden. Some of us old fogies think that a prison was best worth -its price to the community when it was a place that a rascal would -rather die out of than get into; but we are _voces in deserto_ and -in the ramp and roar of the new penology altogether unheard. - -These remarks are suggested by something in France. In that half-sister -republic the guillotine, though still a lawful dissuader from the -error of assassination, is not at the time of writing in actual use. -Murderers are still sentenced to it, but always the sentence is -commuted to imprisonment during life or good behavior. Coincidently -with the decline of the guillotine there is a notable rise in the rate -of assassination. Somebody having had the sagacity to suggest the -possibility of something more than an accidental relation between the -two phenomena, it occurred to a Parisian editor to collect “views” as -to the expediency of again bringing knife and neck together in the -good old way. He got views of all sorts of kinds, naturally, and knows -almost as much about public opinion as he did before. It is interesting -to note that the literary class is nearly a unit against the -chopping-block, as was to be expected: persons who work with the head -naturally set a high value upon it—an over-appraisement in their own -case, for their heads are somewhat impaired by their habit of housing -their hearts in them. There was an honorable minority: Mistral, the -Provençal poet, who pointed out (in verse) that a people too squeamish -to endure the shedding of criminal blood has taken a long step in the -downward path leading to feebleness. - -Wherefore I say: Bravo, Mistral! You have done something to prove that -not all poets are persons of criminal instincts. - - - III - -There is a general tendency to attribute the popular distrust of the -death penalty to the “softening” effect of civilization. One might -accept that view without really agreeing with its expounder; for it is -the human heart which the expounder believes to have been softened, -whereas there is reason to think that the softening process has -involved the human head. - -As a matter of fact, gentlemen experiencing an inhospitality to the -death penalty (including those on the gallows) should not felicitate -themselves; their feeling is due to quite other causes. It is mostly a -heritage of unreason from the dark ages when in all Europe laws were -made and enforced, with no great scruples of conscience, by conquerors -and the descendants of conquerors alien in blood, language and manners. -Between these and the masses of the original inhabitants there was no -love lost. The peasantry hated their foreign oppressors with a silent -antipathy which, like a covered fire, burned with a sullen and more -lasting fervor for lack of vent. Hatred of the oppressor embraced -hatred of all his works and ways, his laws included, and from hatred of -particular laws to hatred of all law the transition was easy, natural -and, human nature being what it is, inevitable. - -So there is a distinctly traceable connection between wars of conquest -and sympathy with crime—between the subjugation of races and their -disrespect of law. Here we find the true fountain and origin of -anarchism. A country “occupied” implies a people imbruted. It may some -time “assimilate” with its conquerors, bringing to the new compound, as -in the instance of the Anglo-Saxon combination with the Norman-French, -some of the sturdiest virtues of the new national life; but along with -these it will surely bring servile vices acquired during the period -of inharmony. There is no doubt that much of whatever turbulence and -lawlessness distinguish the American people from the more orderly -communities across the sea is the work of William the Conqueror and his -men-at-arms. The evil that they did lives after them in the congenial -conditions supplied by a republic. - -What manner of men the Anglo-Saxons became under Norman dominion before -the moral renascence is shown in all the chronicles of the time. A -Roman historian has described the Saxon of the period as a naked brute, -who lay all day by his fireside sluggish and dirty, always eating and -drinking. Even after the assimilation was nearly complete—no longer -ago than “the spacious times of great Elizabeth,” who, by the way, -used to thwack her courtiers on the mazzard when they displeased -her—the homogeneous race was a lawless lot. Speaking of their fondness -for violent bodily exercise and their inaccessibility to the softer -sentiments, Taine says: - - This is why man, who for three centuries had been a domestic - animal, was still almost a savage beast, and the force of his - muscles and the strength of his nerves increased the boldness - and energy of his passions. Look at these uncultivated men, men - of the people, how suddenly the blood warms and rises to their - faces; their fists double, their lips press together and their - vigorous bodies rush at once into action. The courtiers of that - age were like our men of the people. They had the same taste - for the exercise of their limbs, the same indifference to the - inclemencies of the weather, the same coarseness of language, the - same undisguised sensuality. - -Before he grew too fat, Henry VIII was so fond of wrestling that he -took a fall out of Francis I on the field of the Cloth of Gold. - - “That,” says the historian of English literature, “is how a common - soldier or a bricklayer nowadays tries a new comrade. In fact, - they regarded gross jests and brutal buffooneries as amusements, - as soldiers and bricklayers do now. * * * They thought insults - and obscenity a joke. They were foul-mouthed, they listened to - Rabelais’ words undiluted, and delighted in conversation that - would revolt us. They had no respect for humanity; the rules of - proprieties and the habits of good breeding began only in the time - of Louis XIV, and by imitation of the French.” - -Such were “our sturdy Anglo-Saxon ancestors” from whom we inherit our -no good opinion of the law and our selfish indisposition to the penalty -of death. - - - - - ON THE USES OF EUTHANASIA - - - I - -The proposal to forestall a painful death by a painless one is not, -to normal sensibilities, “shocking.” If persuaded of its expediency -no physician should give it a hesitating advocacy through fear of -being thought brutal. It is an error to suppose that familiarity with -death and suffering exhausts the springs of compassion in one born -compassionate. Like many other qualities, compassion grows by use: none -has more of it than the physician, the nurse, the soldier in war. He -to whom the menace of an injustice is a louder voice than the call of -conscience has no standing in the House of Pain, no warrant to utter -judgment as to the conduct of its affairs. - -Pain is cruel, death is merciful. Prolongation of a mortal agony is -hardly less barbarous than its infliction. Who when sane in mind and -body would not choose to guard himself against a futile suffering by -an assurance of accelerated release? Every memory is charged with -instances, observed or related, of piteous appeals for death from the -white lips of agony, yet how rarely can these formulate the prayer! - -To its concession, regulated by law, there is the objection that -law is frangible and judgment fallible. But that objection has no -greater cogency in this than in other matters; laws we must have, and -execute them with such care as we can. Our courts sometimes err in the -diagnosis of crime, yet they warrant our trust in the general service -of our need. The mariner’s compass is fallible, the winds baffle and -the waves destroy; yet we have navigation. Even the anarchist cries -out against law, not because it does not accomplish its purpose, but -because, roughly, it does. - -We build civilization with such tools as we have; if we waited for -perfect ones the structure would never rise. The juror is no more -nearly just and infallible than the physician; if we can entrust -ourselves with death as a penalty for crime we need not shrink from -the no more awful responsibility of according it as a boon to hopeless -pain. In neither case can a blunder do more than hasten the inevitable. -“When I was born I cried,” said a philosopher; “now I know why.” He -did not know why; it was because at the moment of his birth Nature -spoke the sentence of his death. - -It may be that proponents of euthanasia for suffering incurables are -pushing their adventurous feet too far ahead in the march of mind to -expect anything better in the nature of encouragement than a copious -dead-catting and bad-egging from laggard processionists arear. -Sometimes, however, they get decenter treatment than they have the -hardihood to claim: occasionally, through the roar of calumniation is -heard the voice of dull and dignified protestation, even of argument. -For example, _The British Medical Journal_ once pointed out, with -more gravity than grammar, that “the medical profession has always -strongly set its face against a measure that would inevitably pave -the way to the grossest abuses, and which would degrade them to the -position of executioners.” - -I don’t know that the medical profession speaks with any special -authority in a matter of this kind. Perhaps it knows a little better -than other trades and professions that cases of hopeless agony are -of frequent occurrence, but as to the expediency of relieving them -by the compassionate _coup de grâce_—of that a physician is no -better judge than anyone else. As to the fear of being “degraded to the -position of executioners,” the position is not degrading. The office of -executioner—even when execution is punishment, not mercy—is, and should -be considered, an almost sacred office. Its popular disrepute harks -back to the bad old days when a majority of the people in countries -now partly civilized were criminal in act or sympathy, living in hate -and terror of the law—the days of Tyburn Tree with its roaring mobs, -cheering the malefactor and pelting the hangman. It was not from fear -of a merely social reprobation that the mediæval headsman wore a mask; -it was from fear of being torn to pieces if ever recognized unguarded -in the public street. A man of to-day, ambitious to prove his descent -from a criminal ancestry, can most easily do so by damning the hangman. -His humble origin is no disgrace to him if he is a good citizen, but it -makes him invincible to the suasion of argument against his fad. One -might as profitably attempt to reform the color of his eyes or dissuade -him from the shape of his nose. - - - II - -“It is a physician’s mission to cure disease and alleviate suffering,” -says Dr. Nehemiah Nickerson. “There is a point beyond which he can not -cure disease; after that it is his duty to alleviate suffering.” - -A mission implies a mandate; a mandate an authority superior to that of -the missionary. I do not know from what higher authority a physician -derives his own, nor who has the right to lay down the lines within -which his activity must lie. Within the civil and the moral law he is -a free agent—free to observe or disregard the customs of his trade, as -conscience may determine. He has no mandate, no mission. - -It is true, however, that to cure disease and to alleviate suffering -are purposes commonly recognized as important among those belonging -to the practice of medicine. Having failed to accomplish the first, -how far may a physician go in accomplishing the second?—that is a -question that finds no answer in any imaginary mandate. It is not even -answered by the Decalogue, for the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” -has so many obvious and necessary limitations that its value as a -guide to conduct is virtually nothing. Dr. Nickerson believes he may go -so far as to kill the patient he can not cure. Moreover, he candidly -affirms his habit of doing so. I am told that he is a distinguished -physician; there is apparently nothing in his frank avowal to lessen -his distinction. It would not surprise, indeed, if his fame should take -attention from even the officers of the law. To make himself an object -of lively interest in quarters where the several kinds of distinction -in his profession are commonly overlooked he has only to descend from -generals to particulars, naming the patients whom he has turned out of -the frying-pan of physical pain into whatever state awaited them, and -the means (under Providence) which he employed to that end. - -A man may be the best judge of what he is for, but by laymen unskilled -in physic it is usually held that a physician’s business is not only -to cure disease and alleviate suffering, but to prolong life—to -save it altogether being impossible, for all must eventually die. -But laymen have no mandate always to be right; now and again they -have been in error. The righteousness and expediency of releasing an -incurable sufferer from the horrors of life should not be clouded and -discredited by an erring advocacy. - -When a horse or a dog incurs the mischance of a broken back no question -is raised as to the propriety of “putting it out of its misery.” Unable -to cure it, we kill it, and in doing so feel a comfortable sense of -benevolence, a consciousness of having performed a disagreeable duty, -of having discharged an obligation inseparable from our dominion over -the beasts of the field. It may be said that in the instance of a human -being similarly incurable the dominion is lacking. But that does not -go to the root of the matter, and is, moreover, untrue; for a helpless -man is as much subject to our power as a helpless animal, and as much -a charge upon our good will. And in many cases he is as little capable -of deciding wisely what is good for him. A wounded bird or squirrel -will manifest a strong indisposition to be “put out of misery,” by -struggling to escape into the bush; a man will sometimes beg for death, -even when he does not know himself incurable. If there should be a -difference in the treatment of the two in respect of the matter in hand -it would seem that the beast should be spared and the man killed. - -But Dr. Nickerson’s critics think that a different rule should hold, -because the man is an immortal soul, whereas the beast is a thing of -to-day, divinely ordained to “perish.” To this it may be said in reply: -All the stronger reason for a reversal of our practice, for in putting -the man out of his misery you would not really kill, but only change, -him; but the animal having only one life, in taking that you make him -“poor indeed,” depriving him of all that he has. - -That the man is an immortal soul is, however, a proposition which, -after centuries of discussion, remains unsettled; and those who hold -Dr. Nickerson’s view must in conscience forego the advantage of the -argument which their generous opponents try to thrust upon them. If -we actually knew human beings to be immortal many of the current -popular objections to killing them would disappear, and not only -soldiers but physicians and assassins could work at their trades with -a comparatively free hand, along lines of usefulness not always and -entirely divergent. Surely there could be no great wrong in “removing” -a good Christian, whether he were ill at ease or not: to translate -him to the shining altitudes of Paradise is distinctly to augment the -sum of human happiness. For that matter, it would not be difficult to -demonstrate logically the proposition that any Christian may rightly -slay any other Christian upon whom he can lay his hands. True, he is -forbidden by his religion to do so. All the more noble and generous -of him to invite eternal punishment in order to abridge his brother’s -season of earthly trial, insure him against backsliding and usher him -at once into the Kingdom of Delights. In point of mere expediency a -general observance of this high duty is open to the objection that -it would somewhat reduce the church militant in point of numerical -strength. But this is perhaps a digression. - -It is urged that not knowing the purposes of the Creator in creating -and giving us life, we should endure (and make our helpless friends -endure) whatever ills befall, lest by death we ignorantly frustrate the -divine plan. Merely pausing to remark that the plan of an omnipotent -Deity is not easily frustrated, I should like to point out that in -this very ignorance of the purpose of existence lies a justification -of putting an end to it. I did not ask for existence; it was thrust -upon me without my assent. As He who gave it has permitted it to become -an affliction to me, and has not apprised me of its advantages to -others or to Himself, I am not bound to assume that it has any such -advantages. If when in my despair I ask why I ought to continue a -life of suffering I am uncivilly denied an answer, I am not bound to -believe, and in lack of light may be unable to believe, that the answer -if given would satisfy me. So the game having gone against me and the -dice appearing to be loaded, I may rightly and reasonably quit. - -That is the way that a logical patient would probably reason if -incurable and in great pain. I confess my inability to discern the -fallacy of his argument. Indeed, it seems to me that so far as concerns -baffling the divine purpose the patient who calls in a physician and -tries to recover is more obviously guilty of attempting to do that than -the patient who tries to die. To an understanding that accepts life as -a gift from God, illness might very naturally seem a divine intimation -of God’s altered mind. To one thinking after that fashion voluntary -death would necessarily appear as cheerful submission to the divine -will, and the taking of medicine as impious rebellion. - -The right of suicide implies and carries with it the right to put to -death a sufferer incurably ill; for the relief which we claim for -ourselves we cannot righteously deny to those in our care. We would -naturally expect a medical advocate of suicide to kill a patient -occasionally, as humanity may suggest and opportunity serve. Dr. -Nickerson’s frankness is shocking, but on a survey of the entire -question it seems a good deal easier to point out his infractions of -the law than his disloyalty to reason and the higher sentiments which -distinguish us from the priests that perish. - - 1899. - - - - - THE SCOURGE OF LAUGHTER - - -The world is growing wiser. Ancient Error is drawing off his defeated -forces, the rear guard blinking in the destructive light of reason -and science. It has now been ascertained that wrinkles are not caused -by care and grief, but by laughing. Such is the dictum of an eminent -physician, and it is becoming in us laymen to accept it with due -humility and govern ourselves accordingly, subduing the rebellious -diaphragm and mortifying the countenance. More easily said than done, -doubtless, but what that is easily done is worth doing? - -It is to be feared that much of the laughing that is done has its -energizing motive in some fundamental principle of human nature not -affectable by human will; that we frequently laugh from causes beyond -our control, between which and the thing we think we laugh at there -is no other relation than coincidence in point of time. That which we -happen to have in attention at the time of the mysterious impulse is -mistaken as the cause of the impulse and thought comic, whereas it -has no such character, and under other circumstances would have been -thought a very serious matter. This view is abundantly confirmed by -observation. Men have been known to laugh even when reading the work of -the professional humorist, when listening to a story at a club, when -in the very presence of a negro minstrel. It is difficult, indeed, to -mention environing conditions so dispiriting as to assure gravity. - -But there is a kind of laughter essentially different in origin. It is -not spontaneous, but induced. It has not, like death, all seasons for -its own—is not a purely subjective phenomenon, like hereditary gout, -but requires the conspiracy of occasion and stimulation by something -outside the laughter; for examples a candidate’s assurance of devotion -to the public interest, a pig standing on its head, or an editorial -article by Deacon George Harvey. - -It is clear that by diligence, vigilance and determination this latter -kind of laughter can be greatly reduced in frequency, intensity and -duration, and its ravages upon the human countenance stayed to that -extent. We have only to keep ourselves out of the way of its exciting -causes. If we find ourselves within ear-shot of the candidate attesting -his love of the people we can close our ears and retire. Seeing a pig -preparing to stand on its head, we may turn away our eyes and fix the -mind upon some solemn subject—Mark Twain at the grave of Adam, or Adam -at the grave of Mark Twain. Catching the sense of a Harvey editorial we -can lay down the paper and put a stone on it. So shall our faces retain -their pristine smoothness, enabling us to falsify with impunity the -family Bible record with regard to date of birth. - -It is of course impossible to enumerate here many of the things to be -sought or avoided in order not to laugh and grow wrinkled, but two -are so obviously important that they force themselves forward for -mention. Our reading should be confined as much as possible to the -comic weeklies, and we should give a wide berth to those dailies which -deem it their duty to rebuke the commercial spirit of the age. It is -believed that by taking these two precautions against the furrowing -fingernails of Mirth one can retain a fresh and youthful rotundity of -countenance to the end of one’s days and transmit it to those who come -after. - - - - - THE LATE LAMENTED - - -How long one must be dead before his “relics”—including not only his -remains proper, but the several appurtenances thereunto belonging—cease -to be “sacred,” is a question which has never been settled. London was -once divided in opinion, or rather in feeling, as to the propriety -of publicly exhibiting the body-linen worn by Charles I when that -unhappy monarch had the uncommon experience of losing his head. Not -only was this underwear shown, but also some of the royal hair which -was cut away by the headsman. Many persons considered the exhibition -distasteful and in a measure sacrilegious. But the entire body of the -great Rameses has been dug out and is freely shown without provoking a -protest. - -Rameses was a mightier king than Charles, and a more famous. He was the -veritable Pharaoh of sacred history whose daughter (who, I regret to -say, was also his wife) found the infant Moses in the bulrushes. He -could also point with pride to his record in profane history, and was, -altogether, a most respectable person. Between the power, splendor and -civilization of the Egypt of Rameses and the England of Charles there -is no comparison: in the imperishable glory of the former the latter -seems a nation of savage pigmies. Why, then, are the actual remains of -the one monarch considered a fit and proper “exhibit” in a museum and -the mere personal adornments of the other too sacred for desecration -by the public eye? Probably political and ethnic considerations have -something to do with it: perhaps in Cairo the sentiment would be the -other way, though the stoical indifference of successive Egyptian -Governments to mummy-mining by the thrifty European does not sustain -that view. - -Schliemann and many of his moling predecessors have dug up and removed -the sleeping ancients from what these erroneously believed to be their -last resting-places in Asia Minor and the other classic countries, -without rebuke, and the funeral urn of an illustrious Roman can be -innocently haled from its pigeon-hole in a _columbarium_. We open -the burial mounds of our Indian predecessors and pack off their skulls -with never a thought of wrong, and even the bones of our own early -settlers when in course of removal to make way for a new city hall -are treated with but scant courtesy. There seems to be no statute of -limitations applicable to the sanctity of tombs; every case is judged -on its merits, with a certain loose regard to local conditions and -considerations of expediency. - -It was an ancient belief that the shade of even the most worthy -deceased could not enter Elysium so long as the body was unburied, -but no provision was made for expulsion of those already in if their -bodies were exhumed and used as “attractions” for museums. So we may -reasonably hope that the companions of Agamemnon contemplate the -existence of Schliemanns with philosophic indifference; and doubtless -Rameses the Great, who, according to the religion of his country, had -an immortality conditioned on the preservation of his mortal part, is -as well content that it lie in a museum as in a pyramid. - - - - - DETHRONEMENT OF THE ATOM - - -It is of course to be expected that the advance of scientific knowledge -will destroy, here and there, a cherished illusion. It was so when -Darwin showed us that we are not made of mud, but have “just growed.” -At least that is what Darwin is by many held to have done, and deep -is their resentment. In a general way it may be said that the path of -scientific progress is strewn with the mouldering bones of our dearest -creations. - -To this melancholy company must now be added the precious Atom. It -has had a fairly long reign, has the atom; the youths who first -worshiped at its shrine are in the lean and slippered pantaloon stage -of existence. It will be all the harder for them to see their idol -depedestaled. - -That the atom was the ultimate unit of matter, the absolute smallest -thing in the universe, a fraction incapable of further division—that is -what we had been commanded to believe by those in authority over the -many things of science. And with such powers of conviction as we are -gifted withal we had believed. - -Now, what do we hear—what do we hear? Why, that an atom is an -aggregation of electrons! These are so much smaller than atoms that the -latter can be easily conceived as cut in halves—nay, chopped into hash. -Before the inven—that is to say, the discovery—of the electron such a -thing as that was unthinkable. So, at each enlargement of the field of -knowledge the human mind receives new powers. The time may come when we -shall be able (with an effort) to conceive the division of an electron. - -The difference in magnitude, or rather minitude, between our old friend -the atom and this new though doubtless excellent thing, the other -thing, is characteristically expounded thus: - -“If an electron is represented by a sphere an inch in diameter, an atom -on the same scale is a mile and a half. Or, if an atom is represented -by the size of a theater, an electron is represented on the same scale -by a printer’s full stop.” - -The electron, it seems, is not only unthinkably little; it is -impalpable, invisible, inaudible and probably insipid and inodorous. -In brief, it is immaterial. It is not matter, though matter is composed -of it. That is easy to understand if one has a scientific mind. - -Not only are electrons immaterial, or at least inconceivably -attenuated; they are immense distances apart—immense in comparison with -their bulk. Likewise, they are inconceivably rapid in motion about a -common center. The electrons forming a single atom are analogous to our -solar system, but whether there is a big electron in the center science -does not as yet tell us. - -When a steam hammer descends upon a piece of steel it merely strikes -the outside of an infinite aggregation of moving, impalpable things -widely separated in space. But they stop the hammer. - -Scientists know these facts, and we know that they know them—this is -our delightful part in the matter. But we do not know how they know -them—that is not granted to our humble degree of merit. As we grow -in grace, we may perhaps hope to be told, preferably in words of one -syllable, how they learned it all; how they count the electrons; how -they measure them; with what kind of instrument they determine their -actual and comparative magnitudes, and so forth. No doubt the columns -of the newspapers are open to them for explanation and exposition even -now. - -In the meantime let us be pleasant about it. It is more amiable to -believe without comprehending than to comprehend without believing. - - - - - DOGS FOR THE KLONDIKE - - -The spectacle of great tides of men sweeping hither and thither across -the face of the globe under suasion of so mean a passion as cupidity, -as the waters of ocean are led by the moon, is more spectacular than -pleasant. See in it however much one prophetically may of future empire -and civilizations growing where none grew before—hear as one can on -every breeze that blows from the newest and richest placers the hum -of the factory to be, the song of the plowman (such as it is) and -the drone of the Sunday sermon, replacing “the petulant pop of the -pistol”—yet one can not be altogether insensible to the hideousness -of the motive out of which all these pleasing results are to come. -Doubtless in looking at the pond-lily a healthy mind makes light -account of the muck and slime at the bottom of the pond, whence it -derives its glories; but while the muck and slime only are in evidence, -the water and the flower mere presumptions of the future, the case is a -trifle different. - -It is conceded that out of this mad movement to the Klondike great good -may come. Many of those who go to dig will remain to plow, jocundly -driving their teams afield to tickle the tundra till it laughs in -pineapples, bananas and guavas. It is not denied that great cities -(with roof-gardens and slums) will rise like exhalations along the -mighty Yukon, nor that that noble stream will know the voice of the -gondolier and the lute of the lover. In place of the moose and the -caribou, the patient camel will kneel in the shade of palms to receive -his cargo of dates, spices and native silks. - -But just now the Klondike region is a trifle raw. In the stark -simplicity of life there men do not veil their characters with a -shining hypocrisy; all, by their presence in that unutterable country, -being convicted of the greed for gold, every man feels that it is -useless to profess any of the virtues; as the discharged inmate of a -reformatory institution has no choice but a life of crime. Later, when -the beneficent influences that track the miner to his gulch shall have -set up a more complex social system under which the presumption of a -base motive may be less strong, we shall hear, doubtless, of Dawsonians -and even Skagwegians who would take the trouble to deny an accusation -of theft and to affirm a disposition to go to church between drinks on -a Sunday. - -Ugly as these “rushes” to mining regions seem to one unskilled in use -of the muck-rake and a stranger to avarice—discouraging as they are to -the good optimist, and correspondingly delightful to his natural enemy, -the wicked pessimist—yet it must be confessed that in the present -rush there is one feature that goes far in mitigation of its general -unpleasantness: it has created in distant and unwholesome regions a -demand for the domestic dog. - -For the first time in his immemorial existence this comfortable -creature has thrown open to him a wide field of usefulness of exactly -the kind that he deserves—a long way from the comforts of home, -imperfectly supplied with beef-steaks, cold as blazes, with plenty of -hard work and the worst society in the world! - -“Good long-haired dogs” are “quoted” in Dawson at one hundred and -fifty to two hundred dollars. Such prices ought to result in drawing -all that kind of dogs out of the rest of the country, which in itself -would be a great public benefaction; for the popular belief in the -superior virtues of the long-haired dog is a lamentable error. The type -and exemplar of that variety, the so-called Newfoundland, is, in point -of general, all-round unworth, superior to any living thing that we -have the advantage to know. Not only is his bite more deadly than that -of the ordinary snapdog, but that of the fleas which he cherishes is -peculiarly insupportable. The fleas of all other dogs merely sadden; -those of the Newfoundland madden to crime! His fragrance, moreover, -is less modest than that of even the Skye terrier; it is distinctly -declarative. A charming fiction ascribes to him a tender solicitude for -drowning persons, especially children; but history may be searched in -vain for a single authentic proof—and history is not over-scrupulous in -the matter of veracity. Every one has heard and read of rescues from -drowning, by Newfoundland dogs, but no human being ever saw one. It is -to be hoped that the hyperborean demand for “good long-haired dogs” -will not fall upon heedless ears. - -The Great Dane is not a “long-haired” dog, but he is large and strong, -and should be wanted in the Klondike country. His size and strength -would there be his best recommendations; here they are his worst. -Having a giant’s strength he uses it as a giant, and his multiplication -in the land is a terror and a curse. His manner of unloading a bicycle -has been justly described as the acme of inconsiderateness. Moreover, -he is increasing all the time in magnitude as well as in quantity; at -his present rate of growth he will within a decade or so overtop the -horse and outnumber the sheep. There will be no resisting him. But what -an excellent roadster he would be in Alaska! The brevity of his hair is -really an advantage: in calculating his load less allowance will need -to be made for icicles. Indubitably the value of a Great Dane in Dawson -is at least one thousand dollars. - -The most pernicious varieties of the species—the small animated -pestilences upon which our ladies waste so much of the affection -which, it is reverently submitted, might with better results be -bestowed upon the males of their own species—these pampered laplings -are unfortunately not useful for draught purposes in the Arctic. One -of them could not pull a tin plate from Squottacoota to Nickalinqua. -So they are not “quoted” in the Dawson market reports. But something -has been overlooked: the incomparable excellence of their flesh! It is -respectfully suggested that a few of these curled darlings and glossy -sweethearts be sent to the Klondike, suitably canned and spiced as -commercial samples. The miners may be assured that the flesh is not -only wholesome, but is entirely free from that objectionable delicacy -that distinguishes, for example, the yellow-legged pullet; it is -honestly rank and strong and has plenty of “chew” in it—just the right -kind of meat for founders of empires and heralds of civilization. A -dozen cans of Dandy Dinmont or King Charles Spaniel should have in -Dawson an actual value of three thousand dollars, but doubtless could -be supplied at a much smaller price. So much as that would hardly be -needed in any one outfit, for such is the nutritious property of small -dog that most persons would find a single can of it enough. - -We are able to supply all Alaska and the Northwest Territory with dogs -and with dog. Every township has always a surplus. I invite attention -to our peerless canine wealth and to the eminent fitness of its units -for service on the northern trails and along the northern alimentary -canal. Before purchasing elsewhere let the judicious Klondiker examine -our stock. He is too far away to look at it, but when the wind is in -the southeast that is needless. - - 1898. - - - - - MONSTERS AND EGGS - - -The Gila Monster has at last succeeded in disclosing to Science the -trend of his appetite toward that comestible with the strong foreign -accent, the gull’s egg. That the product of the merry sea-fowl is the -creature’s regular diet in his desert habitat circumjacent to Death -Valley is a proposition so obvious that one would have thought it -self-evident, even to him on whose humble birth fair science frowned -not; yet the discovery appears to have been made by accident, as is so -frequently the case with great truths which seem so simple when we come -to know them. - -Now that his Monstership’s favorite food is no longer a matter of -controversy to scientists and concern to the tenderfoot, we may -reasonably hope that the interesting but hitherto misunderstood and -calumniated reptile may be domesticated among us; for there is no -longer a doubt of our ability to support him in the style to which he -is accustomed, nourishing him to a proper growth and suitable flavor -for the table. - -In the gastronomical curriculum of the southern Red Man the Gila -Monster has always held an honorable place when well roasted -by exposure to the climate of his choice; and that aboriginal -trencherman’s dietetic practices have frequently pointed the way to -reform at the tables of the Paleface, a notable instance being his -advocacy of the potato and the tobacco leaf, in the consumption of -which he had long been happy before he discovered Columbus and Sir -Walter Raleigh. In the spud and the quid we have, doubtless, his best -benefactions to Caucasian gastronomy; but if the seed of his example -with regard to the Gila Monster do not fall upon the stony soil of -a reasonless conservatism the minor pleasures of existence may be -augmented by an addition distinctly precious, and the female gull be -accepted and venerated as a philanthropist of the deepest dye. - -By knowledge not only of the gratifying fact that the Monster eats -gulls’ eggs, but of the at least interesting one that he does -_not_ eat the Eastern tourist, we attain to something like an -understanding of his disposition, which is seen to be peaceable and -humane. It is therefore probable that he is no more venomous when he -bites than poisonous when bitten. The current stories attesting the -noxiousness of his tooth have their origin, perhaps, in a strong sense -of his destitution of beauty; for it must be frankly confessed that the -impulchritude of his expression and general make-up is disquieting to -the last degree. But, for that matter, so is that of the toad—not only -the horned toad, which is known to be harmless, but the common hop-toad -of the garden, whose bite is believed by some to be actually wholesome. -Shakspeare was of a different conviction, but Shakspeare was not very -strong in zoology, nor was he over-conscientious in verification of -all the statements that he put into the mouths of his characters—a -circumstance which seems to have been overlooked by those who are most -addicted to quoting him. - -Science having done so much for the Gila Monster and, in a sense, -made him its own, will be expected by the public to carry the good -work forward by settling, once for all, the vexed question of his -brotherhood to the rattlesnake and the woman scorned. Is he really -venomous? With a view to determining the point it is to be hoped that -some unselfish investigator may permit himself to be bitten by the -accused; and I think a very proper person to make the experiment is Dr. -Theodore Roosevelt, the illustrious zoölogist who wrote the monograph -on the invertebracy of the spineless cactus. - - - - - MUSIC - - -Let him to whom, as to me, nature has denied “an ear for music,” or -circumstance an opportunity for its education, take heart and comfort: -he has escaped a masterful temptation to commit nonsense in the first -degree. Doubtless there are music makers and music lovers who can -write and speak of the art with a decent regard to the demands of -common sense, but doubtless they don’t; their history is a record of -ignored opportunities. As to the others—the chaps who push in between -our hearing and our understanding—they possibly “play by note,” but -they write “by ear.” They say whatever sounds well to themselves, and -there they leave it. Theirs is the art of sound and they expound its -principles with due observance of its results: in speaking of it they -are satisfied to make a pleasant noise. The louder the noise of their -exposition, the more glorious the art which it expounds. As members of -mystic brotherhoods are bound by oath not to divulge the solemn secrets -which they do not possess; as the married have a tacit undertaking -to wreathe their chains with flowers, smile away their wounds, and -exhibit as becoming ornaments the handles of the daggers rusting in -their hearts; as priesthoods plate with gold their empty shrines; as -the dead swear in stone and brass that they were virtuous and great—so -the musical are in conspiracy to magnify and exalt their art. It is a -pretty art: it is rich in elements of joy, purveying to the sense a -refined and keen delight. But it is not what they say it is. It is not -what the uninitiated believe it. What is? - -I am led to these reflections—provoked were the better word—by reading -one Krehbiel. “Wagner,” Mr. Krehbiel explains, “strove to express -artistic truths, not to tickle the ear, and therefore his work will -stand, while Italian opera, which is founded on sensual enjoyment, must -pass away.” A more amusing _non sequitur_ it would be difficult -for the most accomplished logician to construct. Because the city is -founded on a rock it will topple down! I think I could name several -sorts of sensual enjoyment which give promise of enduring as long as -the senses. Among them I should give a high place to whatever kind of -music the sense of hearing most enjoys. If posterity is going to be -such an infinite fool as to stop its ears to sounds which please them, -I thank Heaven that I live in antiquity. - -The enjoyment of music is a purely sensual enjoyment. It “tickles the -ear,” and it does nothing else. The ear being skilfully tickled after -the fashion which the composer and the executant understand, emotion -ensues; but not thought, save by association—by memory. Music does -not touch the springs of the intellect. It never generated a process -of reasoning, nor expressed a truth, “artistic” or other, which could -be formulated in a definitive proposition. It has no intellectual -character whatever. I have heard this disputed scores of times, but -never by one who had himself much intellect. And, in truth, musicians, -if I must say it, are not commonly distinguished above their fellows by -mental capacity. The greater their gift, the less they know; and when -you find a tremendously skilful and enthusiastic executant you will -have as nearly sensual an animal as you care to catch. - -To those having knowledge of the essential meaning of music, its -original place among the influences that wrought their results -upon primitive man, this will seem natural and sequent. Music was -originally vocal; before men became wise enough and deft enough to -make instruments they merely sang, as the birds do now, and certain -animals—the latter pretty badly, it must be confessed. But why did -the primitive man and woman sing? To commend themselves in the matter -of love, as the birds do, and the beasts. Abundant vestiges of this -practice survive among us. The young woman who bangs her piano and her -hair has a single motive in the double habit. She is hardly conscious -of it; she has inherited it along with the desire to brandish her eyes, -and otherwise manslay. Consider, my tuneless youth, how slender is your -chance in rivalry with the fellow who can sing. He will “knock you out” -with a bar of music better than a Chinese highbinder could with a bar -of iron. It did not occur to our good arboreal ancestor (him of the -prehensile tail, aswing upon his branch) to address his wood-notes wild -to a mixed audience for gate-money; he sought to charm a single pair -of ears, and those more hairy than critical. Later, as the race went -on humaning, there grew complexity of sentiment and varying emotional -needs, for the gratification whereof song took on a matching complexity -and variance. There were war songs, and death songs, and hunting -songs, harvest songs and songs of adoration. Wood and metal were taught -to perform acceptably. - - The shells of tortoises were made to sing, - And, touched in tenderness, the captive string. - -Did it ever occur to you, intelligent reader, that the simplest musical -instrument is a more astonishing invention than the talking phonograph? -But the human love-tone is the soul and base of the system; and should -men and women henceforth be born happily married the entire musical -edifice would fade and vanish like a palace of clouds. - - - - - MALFEASANCE IN OFFICE - - -In these days of societies for the prevention of this and that, why -can not we have a Society for the Prevention of Malfeasance in Office? -More than half of all the money paid in taxes is in one way or another -stolen. From the humblest janitorship up to the chief magistracy of the -state (both inclusive) the offices are held by men of whom a majority -are as scurvy knaves as many of those in the penitentiaries. There -is no exaggeration in this statement; it is literally, absolutely -true. Then why, it may be asked, does not the press expose all this -corruption? For many reasons, among them these: the corruption of the -press; the circumstance that malfeasance in office is no news; the -absence of a public opinion that will do more than passively approve, -whereas the private animosities engendered by exposure are active, -implacable, and dangerous; the absence of such a society as the one -suggested. An additional reason may be called, softly, the rascality -of the courts. Not all horses are sorrel, and not all judges rogues. -Not all pigs have spiral tails, nor all prosecuting attorneys crooked -morals. Nevertheless he who lightly incurs law suits, relying upon the -justice of his cause, has no need to wear motley, for assuredly none -will think him other than a fool. - -It is in our courts that officers and members of the Society for the -Prevention of Malfeasance in Office would be least welcome and most -terrifying. Their presence would be to our boss-made judges and thrifty -district attorneys what the sudden apparition of the late Mr. Henry -Bergh used to be to draygentlemen engaged in tormenting their horses. -It would be easy, without stopping to take thought or breath, to name -a score of judges of our higher courts, in present incumbency or newly -retired, whose perturbations from that cause would attain to the -dignity of a panic. - -The thing is easily feasible. It requires, mainly, liberal endowment by -that class of the wealthy whose interests do not lie in the stability -of misgovernment. Zealous and incorruptible officers to investigate, -able attorneys to prosecute, honest newspapers to assist and spread the -light. These will come of themselves. A few successful prosecutions -of official offenders, a few impeachments and removals, a few hitherto -invincible rascals sent to the penitentiary, a little educating of -the people to the fact that a new power for good is risen among them, -and money will come in abundantly. Rightly conducted the Society will -become a popular favorite, accredited alike by alliance of the wise -and hostility of knaves, and fairly good government by unofficial -supervision become an accomplished fact. Apparently there is no other -way whereby it may be obtained. - -Of course the Society need not be named what I have called it, and the -scope of its activity should be greater than that name implies. It -should aim to prevent (by exposure and punishment) not only malfeasance -in office, but all manner of sins and stupidities in public life. Our -existing machinery for obtaining honest and intelligent government -is altogether inadequate; it breaks down at all points and—fatal -defect!—it is not automatic. The laws do not enforce themselves—not -even the laws for enforcing the laws. The “wheels of justice” are -easily “blocked” because nobody is concerned to put his shoulder to -them. Who will come forward and provide a motor for this inert and -sluggish mechanism? Here is as good an opportunity for distinction as -one can want. But let no one seek to grasp it who has not a strong -hand and a hard head; there will be bloody noses and cracked crowns -enow, God wot. If one have a taste for fighting he can have it by -the bellyful. If he enjoy ridicule, calumniation, persecution, they -shall come to him in quantity to fit his appetite. Maylike he shall -have knowledge of how it feels to sleep in field-feathers on stone. -But assuredly there are for that man, if he be of the right kidney, -an imperishing renown and “the thanks of millions yet to be.” Let him -stand forth. Let him fall to and organize. Let him tout the country -for subscriptions and begin. In the end he shall find that the little -fire that he kindled has spread over all the land with a crackling -consumption of rascalry; and his children’s children shall warm them in -the memory. - - 1881. - - - - - FOR STANDING ROOM - - -At no time in the world’s history have the relations between laborers -and employers of labor received so much attention as now. All men who -think are thinking of them, the meditation being quickened by the -importance of the interests involved, the sharp significance of some -of their observed phenomena and the conditions entailing them. Among -these last, one of the most important is overpopulation in civilized -countries; and it is only in such countries that any controversy has -arisen between—to speak in the current phrase—capital and labor. -Despite the magnitude and frequency of modern wars, the population of -all civilized countries increases in the most astonishing way. In the -six great nations of Europe the increase since the Napoleonic wars has -been between fifty and sixty per cent. In this country our progression -is geometrical—we double our population every twenty-five years! - -Conquest and commerce have brought the whole world under contribution -to the strong nations. Inter-communication has reduced the areas of -privation and almost effaced those of famine. Railways and steamships -and banks and exchanges have diminished the friction between producer -and consumer. By sanitary and medical science the average length of -human life has been increased. Chemistry has taught us how to fertilize -the fields, forestry and engineering how to prevent both inundation -and drought, invention how to master the adverse forces of Nature and -make alliance with the friendly ones by labor-saving machinery, so that -the work of one man will now sustain many in idleness—with no lack of -persons who by birth, breeding, disposition and taste are eligible to -sustentation. The milder sway of modern government, the elimination -of the “gory tyrant” as a factor in the problem of existence and the -better protection of property and life have had, even directly, no -mean influence on the death rate. These and many other causes have -combined to make the conditions of life so comparatively easy that an -extraordinary impetus has been given to the business of living; mankind -may be said to have taken it up as a congenial pursuit. The cloud of -despair that shadowed the face of all Europe during those centuries -of misrule and ignorance fitly called the Dark Ages has lifted, and -multitudes are thronging into the sunshine. It is not a perfect beam, -but its warmth and lumination are incomparably superior to anything -of which the older generations ever dreamed. But the result is over -population, and the result of over population is war, pestilence, -famine, rapine, immorality, ignorance, anarchy, despotism, slavery, -decivilization—depopulation! - -This is man’s eternal round; this is the course of “progress”; in this -circle moves the “march of mind.” The one goal of civilization is -barbarism; to the condition whence it emerged a nation must return, and -every invention, every discovery, every beneficent agency hastens the -inevitable end. An ancient civilization would last a thousand years; -confined to the same boundaries, a modern civilization would exhaust -itself in half that time; but by emigration and interchange we uphold -ourselves till all can go down together. One people cannot relapse till -all similar peoples are ready. - -Already we discern ominous instances of the working of the universal -law. Consciously or unconsciously, all the modern statesmen of Europe -are contesting for “territorial aggrandizement.” They desire both -extension of boundaries and colonial possessions. They quarrel with the -statesmen of neighboring nations on this pretext and on that, and send -their armies of invasion to capture and hold provinces. They dispatch -their navies to distant seas to take possession of unconsidered -islands. They must have more of the earth’s surface upon which to -settle their surplus populations. All the wars of modern Europe have -that ultimate, underlying cause. - -The battle knows not why it is fought. It is for standing room. If -it were not for the horrors of war the horrors of peace would be -appalling. Peace is more fatal than war, for all must die, and in peace -more are born. The bullet forestalls the pestilence by proffering a -cleaner and decenter death. - -What has all this to do with the labor question? “Industrial -discontent” has many causes, but the chief is over-population. (In -this country it is as yet a “coming event,” but its approach is rapid, -and already it has “cast its shadow before.”) Where there are too many -producers they are thinned out to make an army, which serves the double -purpose of keeping the rest of them in subjection and resisting the -pressure from without. Armies are to fight with; no nation dares long -maintain one in idleness; it is too costly for a toy; the people burn -to see it put to practical use. They do not love it; they promise -themselves the advantage of seeing it killed; but when the killing -begins their blood is up and they want to go soldiering. - -Our labor troubles—our strikes, boycotts, riots, dynamitation, can have -but one outcome. We are not exempt from the inexorable. We shall soon -hear a general clamor for increase of the army—to protect us against -aggression from the east and the west. We shall have the army. - -That is as far as one cares to follow the current of events into the -dubious regions of prediction. What lies beyond is momentous enough -to be waited for; but any man who fails to discern the profound -significance of the events amongst which he is moving to-day may justly -boast himself impregnable to the light. - - - - - THE JEW - - -A noted Jewish rabbi has been uttering his mind concerning -“manufacturers of mixed marriages”—clergymen, that is to say, who marry -Christians to Jewesses and Jews to Christianesses. In the opinion -of this gentleman of God such marriages are accursed, and those of -his pious brethren who assist the devil in bringing them about are -imperfectly moral. Doubtless it is desirable that the parties to a -marriage should cherish the same form of religious error, lest in -their zeal to save each other’s immortal part they lay too free a hand -upon the part that is mortal. But domestic infelicity is not the evil -that the learned doctor has in apprehension: what he fears is nothing -less momentous than the extinction of Judaism! On consideration it -appears not unlikely that in a general blending of races that result -would ensue. But what then?—will the hand of some great anarch let the -curtain fall and universal darkness cover all? Will the passing of -Judaism be attended with such discomfortable befallings as the wreck -of matter and the crush of worlds? - -Good old Father Time has seen the genesis, development, decay and -effacement of thousands of religions far more ancient and quite as -well credentialed as that of Israel. The most daring of that faith’s -expounders will hardly claim for it an age exceeding a half-dozen -millenniums; whereas the least venturesome anthropologian will affirm -for the human race an antiquity of hundreds. It is hardly likely that -the world has ever been without great religions, of which all but a few -(so new that they smell of paint and varnish) are as dead as the dodo. -No portents foreshadowed their extinction, no cataclysms followed. The -world went spinning round the sun in its immemorial way; men lived -and loved, fought, laughed, cursed, lied, gathered gold and dreamed -of an after-life as before. No mourners follow the hearse of a dead -religion, no burial service is read at the grave. Does the good rabbi -really believe that the faith which he professes, rooted in time, will -flourish in eternity? Can he suppose that its fate will be different -from that of its predecessors, whose temples, rearing their fronts in -great cities, the seats of mighty civilizations in every part of the -habitable globe, have perished with the empires that they adorned, and -left not a vestige nor a memory behind? Does he think that of all the -incalculable religions that have swept in successive dream-waves the -ocean of mystery his alone marks a continuous current setting toward -some shining shore of truth and life and bearing thither all ships -obedient to its trend? - -I can not help thinking that the pious rabbi would better serve his -people by less zeal in broadening and blackening the delimiting lines -by which their foolish fathers circumscribed their sympathies and -interests and made their race a peculiar people, peculiarly disliked. -The best friend of the Jews is not he who confirms them in their narrow -and resented exclusiveness, but he who persuades them of its folly, -advises them to a larger life than is comprised in rites and rituals, -the ceremonies and symbolisms of a long-dead past, and strives to show -them that the world is wider than Judea and God more than a private -tutor to the children of Israel. - -Why do they fear effacement by absorption? If the entire Jewish race -should disappear (as sooner or later all races do) that would not mean -that the Jews were dead, but that Judaism was dead. No single life -would have gone out because of that, and all that is good in the race -would live, suffusing and perhaps ennobling the characters of races -having still a name. All that is useful and true in Jewish law and -Jewish letters and Jewish art would be preserved to the world; the rest -could well be spared. Even the rabbis’ occupation would not be gone: -they would thrive as priests of another faith. Man is not likely to -cease forming himself into “congregations,” for he likes to see his -teachers “close to.” Even if preaching were abolished many kinds of -light and profitable employment would remain. - -As matters now are, mixed marriages—between Jew and Gentile—are not to -be advised. But matters are now not as they should be, nor does our -holy friend’s teaching tend to make them so. Let the Jew learn why he -is subject to hate and persecution by the Gentile. It is not, as he -professes to think, and doubtless does think, because his ancestors, -ages ago, denied the Godhood and demanded the life of another Jew. -Other races and sects deny Christ without offense; and the Gentile who -daily crucifies him afresh is no less active in dislike of the Jew -than the most devout Christian of them all. Christ and Christianity -have nothing to do with it. Nor is the explanation found in the Jew’s -superior thrift, nor in any of those commercial qualities whereby, -legitimately or illegitimately, he gets the better of his Gentile -competitor; though those advantages too pitilessly used against -a stupid and improvident peasantry have sometimes compelled his -expatriation by sovereigns who cared no more what he believed than what -he ate. - -The Christians will cease to dislike and persecute the Jews when -the Jews abandon their affronting claim to special and advantageous -relations with the Lord of All. The claim would be no less irritating -if well founded, as many Christians believe that once it was. When has -it not been observed that a favorite child is hated by its brothers and -sisters? Did not the brethren of Joseph seek his undoing? In missing -the lesson of it the Jew “recks not his own rede.” When was it not -thought an insult to say, “I am holier than thou,” and when did not -small minds “strike back” with brutal hands? The Christian mind is a -small mind, the Christian hand a brutal hand. - -The Jew may reply: “I do not say so; in the pulpit I forbear to -denounce other peoples and other creeds as outside the law and devoid -of the divine grace.” In words he does not say so, but he says so with -emphasis in his care to preserve his racial and religious isolation; in -his practice of self-mutilation and the affronting reasons in which he -disguises his consciousness of the shame of it; in his maintenance of -a spiritual quarantine; in the diligence with which he repairs time’s -ravages in his Great Wall, lest Nature take advantage of the breach -and some caroling Gentile youth leap lightly through to claim a Jewish -maid. In a thousand ways, all having for purpose the safeguarding of -his racial isolation in a ghetto of his own invention, the orthodox -Jew shouts aloud his conviction of his superior holiness and peculiar -worth. Naturally, the echo is not unmixed with Christian denial, -formulated too frequently into unrighteous decrees by the voice of -authority. - -None than I can have a greater regard for the Jewish character, as -found at its best in the higher types of the Jewish people, and not -found at all in those members of the race who alone are popularly -thought of as Jews. None than I can have a deeper detestation of -the spirit at the back of persecution of the Jews, in all its forms -and degrees. Rather than have a hand in it I would have no hand. Yet -I venture to say that if a high degree of contributory negligence, -constituting a veritable invitation to evil, is foolish the calamity -entailed is entitled to a place in the list of expectable phenomena; -and if a certain presumptuous self-righteousness is bad its natural and -inevitable punishment is not entirely undeserved. - -In the mud that the Christian hand flings at the Jew there is a little -gold; in the Christian’s dislike of him there is what the assayers and -analysts call “a trace” of justice. He who thinks that whole races of -men, through long periods of time, hate for nothing has considered -history to little purpose and knows not well the constitution of -the human mind. It should seriously be considered whether, not the -chief, but the initial, fault may not be that of the Jew, who was not -always the unaggressive non-combatant, the long-suffering victim, that -centuries of oppression and repression have tended to make him. If we -may believe his own historical records, which the Christian holds in -even higher veneration than he does himself, he was once a very bad -neighbor. No worse calamity could then befall a feeble people than -the attention of an Israelite king. Believing themselves the salt of -the earth, his warlike subjects had always in pickle a rod for every -Gentile back. Every contiguous tribe which did not accept their God -incurred their savage hatred, expressed in incredible cruelties. They -ruled their little world with an iron hand, dealing damnation round and -forcing upon their neighbors a currency of bloody noses and cracked -crowns. Even now they have not renounced their irritating claim to -primacy in the scale of being, though no longer able to assert it with -fire and sword. It is significant, however, that here in the new world, -at a long remove from the inspiring scenes of their petty power and -gigantic woes—their parochial glory and imperial abjection—they have -somewhat abated the arrogance of their pretensions; and in obvious -consequence, the brutal Christian hand is lifted more languidly against -them in service of a softened resentment. - -Being neither Christian nor Jew, and with only an intellectual -interest in their immemorial feud, I find in it, despite its most -tragic and pathetic incidents, something essentially comic—something -to bring a twinkle to the eye of an Apuleius and draw the merriment -of a Rabelais, “laughing sardonically in his easy chair.” That two -races of reasoning beings, inhabiting one small planet and having the -same sentiments, passions, virtues, vices and interests, should pass -loveless centuries, distrusting, hating and damaging each other is so -ludicrous a proposition that no degree of familiarity with it as a -fact suffices to deprive it altogether of its opéra bouffe character. -Nevertheless it is not to be laughed away. It must be dealt with -seriously, if at all; and it is encouraging to observe that more and -more it is taking attention in this country, where it can be considered -with less heat, and therefore more light, than elsewhere. - -If the Jew cares for justice he must learn, first, that it does not -exist in this world, and second, that the least intolerable form of -injustice goes by favor with the hand of fellowship; and the hand of -fellowship is not offered to him who stands austerely apart saying: “I -am holier than thou.” America has given to the Jews political and civic -equality. If they want more more is attainable. But it is their move. - - 1898. - - - - - WHY THE HUMAN NOSE HAS A WESTERN EXPOSURE - - -When Bishop Berkeley had the good luck to write, - - Westward the course of empire takes it way, - -he suggested a question which has not, to my knowledge, been adequately -answered: Why? Why do all the world’s peoples that move at all move -ever toward the west, a human tide, obedient to the suasion of some -mysterious power, setting up new “empires” superior to those enfeebled -by time, as is the fate of empires? Many a thoughtful observer has -confessed himself unable to name the law at the back or front of the -movement. Yet a law there must be: things of that kind do not come -about by accident. - -A natural law is one thing, a cause is another, and the cause of this -universal tendency to “go West” may not lie too deep for discovery. -May it not be that the glory of the sunset has something to do with -it?—has all to do with it, for that matter. In civilization sunsets -count for little—we know too much. We know that the magical landscapes -of the sunset are “airy nothings”—optical illusions. But we inherit -instincts from primitive ancestors to whom they were less unreal. The -savage is a poet who - - Sees God in clouds, and hears Him in the wind, - -reading into the visible aspects of nature many a meaning which in -the light of exact knowledge we have read out of them. Not a Grecian -of the whole imaginative race that had sight of Proteus rising from -the sea and heard old Triton blow his wreathèd horn could beat him at -that. He knows that beyond the mountains that he dares not scale, and -beyond the sea-horizon that he has not the means to transgress, lies a -land wherein are all beauty and possibilities of happiness. To him the -crimson lakes, purple promontories, golden coasts and happy isles of -cloudland are veritable presentments of actual regions below. He never -bothers his shaggy pate with the question “Can such things be?”—his -eyes tell him that they are. Why should he not have ever in heart the -wish to reach and occupy the delectable realm to which the sun daily -points the way and sometimes discloses? That is the way he feels about -it and his forefathers felt about it, as is shown in the myths and -legends of many tribes. And because they so felt we have from them the -wanderlust that lures us ever a-west. - -To this hypothesis it may be objected that the cloudscapes of the -sunrise ought, logically, to offset the others, giving the race a -divided urge. But the primitive ancestor was not an early riser; he was -a notorious sluggard, as is the savage of to-day, and seldom saw the -sunrise—so seldom that its fascination did not get into the blood of -him and from his into ours. Even when he did see the cloudlands of the -dawn he was not in a frame of mind to observe them, being engrossed in -rounding up the early cave-bear or preparing an astonishment for his -sleeping enemy. But the chromatic glories of the country reflected in -the sunset sky took his attention when it was most alert. Moreover, -those of the dawn are distinctly inferior, as we are assured by -credible witnesses who have observed them, through the happy chance of -having been up all night companioning the katydids and whip-poor-wills. - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Blank pages have been removed. - - A few obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected, - otherwise inconsistent spelling has been left as is. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF AMBROSE -BIERCE, VOLUME 9 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- margin-bottom: 5em; - font-family: sans-serif, serif; - } - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, Volume 9, by Ambrose Bierce</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Collected Works of Ambrose Bierce, Volume 9</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ambrose Bierce</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 7, 2021 [eBook #66490]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Emmanuel Ackerman, Robert Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF AMBROSE BIERCE, VOLUME 9 ***</div> - - <div class="figcenter illowp100" id="cover"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="center xxlarge lh1 mt10"><b>THE COLLECTED WORKS OF<br /> - AMBROSE BIERCE</b></div> - - <hr class="short" /> - <div class="center xxlarge mb10"><b>VOLUME IX</b></div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="illo illowp20 mt10 mb10 page"> - <img class="w100" src="images/colophon.png" alt="Logo" /> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="large bold lh2 mt10 mb10 page"> - <div><i>The publishers certify that this edition of</i></div> - - <div class="center xlarge">THE COLLECTED WORKS OF<br /> - AMBROSE BIERCE</div> - - <div><i>consists of two hundred and fifty numbered sets, autographed by the - author, and that the number of this set is</i> ...... </div> - </div> - - <div class="figcenter illowp100"> - <img class="w100" src="images/title_page.jpg" alt="Title page" /> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="titlepage"> - <h1>THE COLLECTED<br /> - WORKS OF<br /> - AMBROSE BIERCE</h1> - - <div class="xlarge mt5 mb5">VOLUME IX</div> - - <div class="xxlarge">TANGENTIAL<br /> - VIEWS</div> - - <div class="mt10">NEW YORK & WASHINGTON<br /> - <span class="large">THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY</span><br /> - 1911</div> - - <div class="small bold"><span class="fleft ml10"><i>FREDERICK</i></span> - <span class="fright mr10"><i>POLLEY</i></span></div> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="titlepage"> - <div><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1911, by</span><br /> - THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY</div> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <h2 id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> - </div> - - <ul> - <li class="head">TANGENTIAL VIEWS</li> - <li class="item"><a href="#SOME_PRIVATIONS_OF_THE_COMING_MAN">Some Privations of the Coming Man</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#CIVILIZATION_OF_THE_MONKEY">Civilization of the Monkey</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_SOCIALISTWHAT_HE_IS_AND_WHY">The Socialist—What He is, and Why</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#GEORGE_THE_MADE_OVER">George the Made-over</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#JOHN_SMITHS_ANCESTORS">John Smith’s Ancestors</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_MOON_IN_LETTERS">The Moon in Letters</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#COLUMBUS">Columbus</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_RELIGION_OF_THE_TABLE">The Religion of the Table</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#REVISION_DOWNWARD">Revision Downward</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_ART_OF_CONTROVERSY">The Art of Controversy</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#IN_THE_INFANCY_OF_TRUSTS">In the Infancy of “Trusts”</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#POVERTY_CRIME_AND_VICE">Poverty, Crime and Vice</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#DECADENCE_OF_THE_AMERICAN_FOOT">Decadence of the American Foot</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_CLOTHING_OF_GHOSTS">The Clothing of Ghosts</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#SOME_ASPECTS_OF_EDUCATION">Some Aspects of Education</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_REIGN_OF_THE_RING">The Reign of the Ring</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#FIN_DE_SIECLE">Fin de Siècle</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#TIMOTHY_H_REARDEN">Timothy H. Rearden</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_PASSING_OF_THE_HORSE">The Passing of the Horse</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#NEWSPAPERS">Newspapers</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#A_BENIGN_INVENTION">A Benign Invention</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#ACTORS_AND_ACTING">Actors and Acting</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_VALUE_OF_TRUTH">The Value of Truth</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#SYMBOLS_AND_FETISHES">Symbols and Fetishes</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#DID_WE_EAT_ONE_ANOTHER">Did We Eat One Another?</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_BACILLUS_OF_CRIME">The Bacillus of Crime</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_GAME_OF_BUTTON">The Game of Button</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#SLEEP">Sleep</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#CONCERNING_PICTURES">Concerning Pictures</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#MODERN_WARFARE">Modern Warfare</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#CHRISTMAS_AND_THE_NEW_YEAR">Christmas and the New Year</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#ON_PUTTING_ONES_HEAD_INTO_ONES_BELLY">On Putting One’s Head into One’s Belly</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_AMERICAN_CHAIR">The American Chair</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#ANOTHER_COLD_SPELL">Another “Cold Spell”</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_LOVE_OF_COUNTY">The Love of County</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#DISINTRODUCTIONS">Disintroductions</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_TYRANNY_OF_FASHION">The Tyranny of Fashion</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#BREACHES_OF_PROMISE">Breaches of Promise</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_TURKO_GRECIAN_WAR">The Turko-Grecian War</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#CATS_OF_CHEYENNE">Cats of Cheyenne</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THANKSGIVING_DAY">Thanksgiving Day</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_HOUR_AND_THE_MAN">The Hour and the Man</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#MORTUARY_ELECTROPLATING">Mortuary Electroplating</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_AGE_ROMANTIC">The Age Romantic</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_WAR_EVERLASTING">The War Everlasting</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#ON_THE_USES_OF_EUTHANASIA">On the Uses of Euthanasia</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_SCOURGE_OF_LAUGHTER">The Scourge of Laughter</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_LATE_LAMENTED">The Late Lamented</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#DETHRONEMENT_OF_THE_ATOM">Dethronement of the Atom</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#DOGS_FOR_THE_KLONDIKE">Dogs for the Klondike</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#MONSTERS_AND_EGGS">Monsters and Eggs</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#MUSIC">Music</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#MALFEASANCE_IN_OFFICE">Malfeasance in Office</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#FOR_STANDING_ROOM">For Standing Room</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#THE_JEW">The Jew</a></li> - <li class="item"><a href="#WHY_THE_HUMAN_NOSE_HAS_A_WESTERN_EXPOSURE">Why the Human Nose has a Western Exposure</a></li> - </ul> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter mb10"> - <h2>TANGENTIAL VIEWS</h2> - </div> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span> - <h3 id="SOME_PRIVATIONS_OF_THE_COMING_MAN">SOME PRIVATIONS OF THE COMING MAN</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">A GERMAN physician of some note once gave it out as his solemn - conviction that civilized man is gradually but surely losing the - sense of smell through disuse. It is a fact that we have noses less - keen than the savages; which is well for us, for we have a dozen - “well-defined and several” bad odors to their one. It is possible, - indeed, that it is to the alarming prevalence of bad odors that our - olfactory inferiority is in some degree due: civilized man’s habit - of holding his nose has begotten in that organ an obedient habit of - holding itself. This by the way, leaves both his hands free to hold his - tongue, though as a rule he prefers to make another and less pleasing - use of them. With a nose dowered with primitive activity civilized man - would find it difficult to retain his supremacy over the forces of - Nature; her assassinating odors would engage him in a new struggle for - existence, incomparably more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span> arduous than any of which he has present - experience. And herein we get an intimation of a hitherto unsuspected - cause of the rapid decadence of savage peoples when brought into - contact with civilization. Various causes doubtless are concerned, - but the slaughter-house, the glue factory, the gas main, the sewer - and the other sources of exhalations that “rise like the steam of - rich-distilled perfumes” (which in no other quality they resemble) are - the actual culprits. Unprepared with a means of defense at the point - where he is most accessible to assault, the reclaimed savage falls into - a decline and accepting the Christian religion for what he conceives it - to be worth, turns his nose to the wall and dies in the secret hope of - an inodorous eternity.</p> - - <p>With effacement of the sense of smell we shall doubtless lose the - feature which serves as intake to what it feeds upon; and that will in - many ways be an advantage. It will, for example, put a new difficulty - in the way of that disagreeable person, the caricaturist—rather, it - will shear him of much of his present power. The fellow never tires - of furnishing forth the rest of us incredibly snouted in an infinite - variety of wicked ways. When noses are no more, caricature will have - stilled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span> some of its thunder and we can all venture to be eminent.</p> - - <p>Meantime, history is full of noses, as is the literature of - imagination—some of them figuratively, some literally, shining beacons - that splendor “the dark backward and abysm of time.” Of the world’s - great, it may almost be said that by their noses we know them. Where - would have been Cyrano de Bergerac in modern story without his nose? By - the unlearned it is thought that the immortal Bardolph is a creation of - Shakspeare’s genius. Not so; an ingenious scholar long ago identified - him as an historical character who but for the poet’s fine appreciation - of noses might have blushed eternally unseen. It is nothing that his - true name is no longer in evidence in the annals of men; as Bardolph - his fame is secure from the ravening tooth of time.</p> - - <p>Even when a nasal peculiarity is due to an accident of its environment - it confers no inconsiderable distinction, apart from its possessor’s - other and perhaps superior claims to renown, as in the instances of - Michael Angelo, Tycho Brahe and the beloved Thackeray, in whose altered - frontispiece we are all the more interested because of his habit of - dipping it in the Gascon wine.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span></p> - - <p>The spreading nose of Socrates was no doubt a source of great regret - to him, whether its faults and failings were of Xanthippe’s making or, - as Zopyrus had the incivility to inform him, inherited from drunken, - thieving and lascivious ancestors; yet who would willingly forego the - emotions and sentiments inspired by that unusual nose? It seems a - precious part of his philosophy.</p> - - <p>The connection between the poetic eminence of Ovid and the noses from - which his family, the Nasones, derived its name is doubtless more than - accidental, and to our knowledge of his hereditary nasal equipment, - albeit we know not the precise nature of the endowment, must be - ascribed a part of our interest in his work. He to whom the secret of - metamorphosis was an open book is not affirmed to have made any attempt - to alter the family feature, as he doubtless would have done had he not - recognized its essential relation to his genius.</p> - - <p>Plutarch declares that Cicero owed his surname to the fact that his - nose had the shape of a vetch—<i>cicer</i>. Anyhow, his nose was as - remarkable as his eloquence, in its different way. Gibbon and the late - Prince Gortschakoff had noses uncommonly minute for men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span> of commanding - ability, which may have been a good thing for them, compelling them to - rely upon their own endeavors to make their mark in the world. He who - cannot climb to eminence upon his own nose will naturally seek another - footing. Addison had a smooth Grecian nose, significantly suggestive - of his literary style. Tennyson’s nose was long; so are some of his - sermons in verse. Julius Cæsar, too, was gifted with a long nose, which - a writer in a recent review has aptly called “enterprising.” That Cæsar - was an enterprising man some of his contemporaries could feelingly have - attested.</p> - - <p>The nose of Dante—ah, there was a nose! What words could do it justice? - It is one of history’s most priceless possessions. One hesitates to - say what powers and potencies lay latent in that superb organ; one - can only regret that he did not give more time to the cultivation of - its magnificent possibilities and less to evening up matters between - himself and his enemies when peopling Hell as he had the happiness to - conceive it.</p> - - <p>Considering how many of the world’s great and good men have been - distinguished from their inferiors by noses of note and consequence, it - is difficult to understand that such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span> “gifts of grace divine” as these - uncommon protuberances should be so sensitive to the blaze and blare of - publicity. One would expect that in the fierce light that beats about - an uncommon nose its fortunate owner would bask as contentedly as a - python in the noon-day sun, happy in the benign beam and proud of every - inch of his revealed identity.</p> - - <p>To art, effacement of the nose will be of inestimable benefit. In - statuary, for example, we shall be able to hurl a qualified defiance - at Time the iconoclast, who now hastens to assail our cherished carven - images in that most vulnerable part, the nose, tweaking it off and - throwing it away almost before the sculptor’s own nose is blue and cold - beneath the daisies. In the statue of the future there will be no nose, - consequently no damage to it; and although the statue may when new and - perfect differ but little from the mutilated antiques that we now have, - there will be a certain satisfaction in knowing that it has not been - “retouched.” In the case of portrait-statues and busts the advantage - is obvious. When the nose goes the likeness goes with it; all men will - look pretty nearly alike, and a bust or statue will serve about as well - for one man as for another.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span></p> - - <p>Perhaps the best effect of all will be felt in literature. To that - capital bore of letters, the scribbling physiognomist, the nose is - almost as necessary as to the caricaturist. He is never done finding - strength of mind and spirit in large noses, though the small ones of - Gibbon and Gortschakoff shrieked against his creed, and intellectual - feebleness in “pugs,” though Kosciusko’s was the puggest of its time. - When there are no noses the physiognomist can base no theories on them. - It would be worth something to live long enough to be rid of even a - part of his gabble.</p> - - <p>The conditions under which we live may so alter that the sense of - smell may be again advantageous in the struggle for existence, and by - the survival of those in whom it is keenest regain its pristine place - in our meager equipment of powers and capacities. But philosophers - to whom millstones are transparent will deem it significant that the - sense in question and the facial feature devoted to its service have - fallen into something of the disrepute that foretokens deposal. It is - now hardly polite to speak of smells and smelling, without the use of - softened language; and the nose is frequently subjected to contumelious - and jocose remark unwarranted by anything in its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span> personal appearance - or the nature of its pursuits. It is as if man had withdrawn his - lip-service from the nasal setting sun.</p> - - <p>It is, then, well understood, even outside of “scientific circles,” - that the incompossibility of civilization and the human nose is - more than a golden dream of the optimist. Indubitably that once - indispensable organ is falling into the sere and yellow leaf of disuse, - and in the course of a few thousand generations will have been wiped - off the face of the earth. Its utility as an organ of sense decreases - year by year—except as a support for the kind of eyeglasses bearing - its name in French; not a sufficiently important service to warrant - nature in preserving it. The final effacement has been foreseen from - the earliest dawn of art. The ancient Grecian sculptors, for example, - who were great trimmers and were ever eager to know which way the - physiognomical cat would jump, tried to represent the human face of - the future rather than that of their period; and it is noticeable - that most of their statues and busts are distinguished by a striking - lack of nose, as above intimated. That is justly regarded as a most - significant circumstance—a prophecy of the conclusion now reached by - modern science<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span> working along other lines. The Coming Man is to be - noseless—that is settled; and there are not wanting those who support - with enthusiasm the doctrine that he is to be hairless as well.</p> - - <p>It is to be observed that these two effects, planing down of the - human nose and uprooting of the human hair, are to be brought about - differently—at least the main agency in the one case is different from - that in the other. The nose is departing from among us because of its - high sense of duty. Most of the odors of civilization being distinctly - disagreeable, and in the selection of our food chemical analysis having - taken the place of olfactory investigation, there is little for the - modern nose to do that the modern nose-owner is willing to have done.</p> - - <p>One of the most useful of all our natural endowments is what I may - venture to call the conscience of the organs. None of the bodily organs - is willing to be maintained in a state of idleness and dependence—to - eat the bread of charity, so to speak. Whenever for any cause one of - them is put upon the retired list and deprived of its functions and - just influence in the physical economy it begins to withdraw from the - scheme of things by atrophy.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span> It withers away, and the place that knew - it knows it no more forever. That is what is occurring in the instance - of the human nose. We make very little use of it in testing our food—it - has, in truth, lost its cunning in that way—in tracking our game, or in - taking note of a windward enemy; albeit to most of the enemies of the - race the nose is almost as good an annunciator as the organs which they - more consciously address. So the idle nose is leaving us—more in sorrow - than in anger, let us hope.</p> - - <p>With the hair the case is different. It goes, not merely because its - mandate is exhausted, but because it is really detrimental to us in - the struggle for existence. Its departure is an instance, pure and - simple of the survival of the fittest. Little reflection is required - to show the superior fitness of the man that is bald. Baldness is - respectability, baldness is piety, rectitude and general worth. Persons - holding responsible and well-salaried positions are commonly bald—bank - presidents especially. The prosperous merchant is usually of shining - pate; the heads of most of the great corporations are thinly thatched. - Of two otherwise equal applicants for a position of trust and profit, - who would not instinctively<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span> choose the bald one, or, both being bald, - the balder? Having, therefore, a considerable advantage, the bald - person naturally lives longer than his less gifted competitor (any one - can observe that he is usually the older) and leaves a more numerous - progeny, inheriting the paternal endowment of precarious hair. In a few - generations more those varieties of our species known as the Mophead - and the Curled Darling will doubtless have become extinct, and the - barber (<i>Homo loquax</i>) will have followed them into oblivion.</p> - - <p>Another German physician (named Müller—the German physician who is - not named Müller has had a narrow escape) points out the increasing - prevalence of baldness and declares it hereditary. That many human - beings are born partly bald is not, I take it, what he means, but - that the tendency to lose the hair early in life is transmitted from - father to son. It is understood that the ladies have nothing to do - with the matter; they are never bald, but the hair of none of them, I - understand, is so long and thick as it once was.</p> - - <p>It is difficult to offset such facts as these with facts of a contrary - sort. Cowboys and artists—sometimes poets—are found with long hair, but - long hair is not thought to be an advantage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span> to them, if, indeed, any - hair at all is. For wiping the bowie-knife, the paint brush or the pen, - hair, no doubt, is useful, but hardly more so than the coat-sleeve. - Even in these instances, then, where at first thought there might seem - to be a relation of cause and effect between length of hair and length - of life, the appearance is fallacious. A bald-headed cowboy would, - however, be less liable to scalping by the Red Man. It appears, then, - that Dr. Müller’s cheerful prediction regarding the heads of Posterity - rests upon a foundation of truth.</p> - - <p>Some of the doctor’s arguments, however, seem erroneous. For example, - he thinks the masculine fashion of cutting off the hair an evidence - that men instinctively know hair to be injurious—that is to say, a - disadvantage in the struggle for existence. This I can not admit; - it does not follow, for testators have a fashion of cutting off - legatees-expectant, yet legatees-expectant are not injurious—until - known to be cut off; and then the testator’s struggle for existence is - commonly finished. Capitalists have a fashion of cutting off coupons; - it hardly needs to be pointed out that coupons are not amongst the - malign influences tending to the shortening of life.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span></p> - - <p>I have tried (with some success, I hope) to show that hair is a - disadvantage, but this view derives no support from the scissors. If - the hair of men were obviously, conspicuously beneficial; if it made - them healthy, wealthy and as wise as they care to be; if they needed - it in their business; if they could not at all get on without it—they - would doubtless cut it a little oftener and a little closer than they - do now. Men are that way.</p> - - <p>The truth of the matter is plain enough. Men become bald because they - keep cutting their hair. Every man has a certain amount of capillary - energy, so to say. He can produce such a length of hair and no more, - as the spider can spin only so much web and then must cease to be a - spinster. By cutting the hair we keep it exhausting its allowance - of energy by growth; when all is gone growth stops, and the roots, - having no longer a use, decay. By letting their hair grow as long as - it will women retain it. The difference is the same as that between - two coils of rope, equal in length, one of which is constantly payed - out, the other not. If this explanation do not compose the immemorial - controversy about the cause of men’s baldness the prospect of its - composure by that phenomenon’s universality<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span> will be hailed with - delight by all who love a quiet life. The first generation to forget - that men ever had hair will be the first to know the happiness of - peace; the succeeding one will begin a dispute about the cause of hair - in woman.</p> - - <p>An important discovery made and stated with confidence is that to - the human tooth, also, civilization is hateful and insupportable. - Dr. Denison Pedley, whose name carries great weight (and would to - whomsoever it might belong) examined the teeth of no fewer than 3,114 - children, and only 707 had full sets of sound ones. That was in - England; what would be shown by a look-in at the mouths of the young - of a more highly civilized race—say the Missourians—one shudders to - conjecture. That nearly all the savages whom one meets have good - enough teeth is a matter of common observation; and missionaries in - some of the remoter parts of Starkest Africa attest this fact with - much feeling. Yet in all enlightened countries the prosperous dentist - abounds in quantity.</p> - - <p>But perhaps the most significant testimony is that of another English - gentleman, with another honored name—J. K. Mummery, who examined every - skull that he could lay his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span> eyes on during twenty years. He affirms - an almost total absence of <i>caries</i> among the oldest specimens, - those belonging to the Stone Age. Among the Celts, who succeeded these, - and who knew enough to make metal weapons, but not enough to refrain - from using them, the decayed tooth was an incident of more frequent - occurrence; and the Roman conquest introduced it in great profusion. - When the Romans were driven out they took their back teeth along with - them, but the flawless incisor, the hale bicuspid are afterward rarely - encountered. Craniologists affirm a similar state of things wherever - there have been successive or overlapping civilizations: the skulls all - tell the same story—their vote is unanimous. If the alarming progress - of enlightenment be not stayed the hairless and noseless man of the - future will undoubtedly subsist, not as we, upon his neighbor, but upon - spoon-victuals and memories of the past.</p> - <hr class="chap" /> - - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span> - <h3 id="CIVILIZATION_OF_THE_MONKEY">CIVILIZATION OF THE MONKEY</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">PROFESSOR GARNER, who has penetrated the mystery of the sibilants - and gutturals with which monkeys prefer to converse, is said to - entertain the glittering hope that by means of his discoveries these - contemporary ancestors of ours may be elevated to civilization. The - prospect is fascinating exceedingly. It opens to conjecture an almost - limitless domain of human interest. It illuminates, with a light as of - revelation, numberless paths of endeavor leading to glorious goals of - achievement.</p> - - <p>The crying need of our time is more civilization. We have made a rather - lamentable failure in the attempt to elevate certain of the lower - races, such as the Chinese, the Sabbatarians and the Protectionists; - and to still others we have imparted only dim and transient gleams - of our great light. Some, indeed, we have civilized so imperfectly - that they might almost as well have been left in outer darkness; for - example, the Negroes of the South. Our utmost efforts—aided, in many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span> - instances, by the shotgun, the bloodhound and the fagot-and-stake—have - given a faulty result, and many of these obdurate persons remain, as - the late Parson Brownlow would have said, “steeped to the nose and - chin in political profligacy,” voting the Republican ticket whenever - permitted. For four centuries we have hunted the Red Indian from cover - to cover, and he is not a very nice Red Indian yet, some of his vices - and superstitions differing widely from our own. The motorcarman, - shutting his eyes to the glory and advantage of enlightenment, still - urges his indocile apparatus along the line of least insistence; and - the organist from the overseas practices his black art at the street - corner, inaccessible to reclamation. A hundred urban tribes might be - named among civilization’s irreclaimables, without mentioning any of - the religious sects. At every turn the gentleman who is desirous of - making-over his faulty fellow-men encounters a baffling apathy or a - spirited hostility to change.</p> - - <p>Possibly the higher quadrumana may prove more pregnable to light and - reason—more willing to become as we. Perhaps when we can all talk - Monkey we shall be able to set forth the advantages of our happy - state more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span> graphically than we have succeeded in doing in any of - the tongues—including our own—known to the wicked and stiff-necked - generations mentioned. In that sparkling speech we may, for - example, make it clear that a condition in which nine-tenths of the - reformed monkeys will live a life of toil and discomfort, holding - their subsistence by the most precarious tenure, is conspicuously - subserviceable to that chastened and humble frame of mind which is - so joyously different from the empty intellectual pride that comes - of pelting one another with cocoanuts and depending from branches - by prehensile tails. Perhaps in the pithecan vocabulary is such - copiousness that we can easily set forth the unspeakable profit of - living a long way from where we want to go at a considerable peril - to life and limb—which is what steam and electricity enable us to - do. We may reasonably hope to be able to convince the gorilla of the - futility of his habit of beating his breast and roaring when in the - presence of the enemy; the history of a few of our great battles, - carefully translated into his noble tongue, will make him first endure, - then pity, then embrace our more effective military methods, to the - unspeakable benefit of his heart and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span> mind. Adequately civilized, the - gorilla will beat his enemy’s breast and let that creature do the - roaring.</p> - - <p>Certain advantages of urban life—an invention of civilization—ought to - be comparatively easy of exposition in an attractive way. The practice - of abolishing the hours of rest by means of lights and rattling - vehicles; of generating sewer-gas and conducting it into dwellings; - of loading the atmosphere with beautiful brown smoke and assorted - exhalations before taking it into the lungs; of drinking whisky, or - water from cow pastures; of eating animals that have been a long time - dead,—of all these and many other blessings of civilization the monkeys - can acquire knowledge, desire and, eventually, possession. Doubtless we - shall have some small difficulty in explaining the advantages of the - incaudate state (for civilization implies renunciation of the tail), - the comfortableness of the stiff hat and shirt collar (for civilization - entails clothing), the grace of the steel-pen coat, the beauty of the - skin-tight sleeve and the sanitary effect of the corset; but if the - monkey language, unlike that of the Houyhnhnms, supplies facilities - for “saying the thing that is not” we shall eventually convince our - arboreal pupils that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span> black is not only white but a beautiful écru - green.</p> - - <p>The next step will naturally be the investing them with citizenship and - the right to vote according to the dictates of the bosses. When by that - investiture they have been duly instated in “the seats of power,” the - monkeys will form one of the most precious of our political elements, - though hardly distinguishable from some of the political elements - with which we are now blest. Their enfranchising will be no radical - innovation; it will merely make the political pile complete—though the - possible defection of the philosopher element in the near future may - somewhat mar the symmetry of the edifice until the gap can be stopped - by enfranchisement of dogs and horses.</p> - - <p>Even if all this is but the gorgeous dream of a too hopeful optimism, - it is nevertheless good to know that Professor Garner can understand - Monkey. If we fail to persuade the monkeys forward along the line of - progress to our advanced position it will be pleasant to have from them - an occasional word of cheer and welcome as we are led back to theirs.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span> - <h3 id="THE_SOCIALISTWHAT_HE_IS_AND_WHY">THE SOCIALIST—WHAT HE IS, AND WHY</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">AMERICAN socialism is not a political doctrine; it is a state of mind. - A man is an active socialist because he is afflicted with congenital - insurgency: he was born a rebel. He rebels, not only against “the - established order” in government, but against pretty nearly everything - that takes his attention and enlists his thought, though not many - things do. He is hospitable to only one idea at a time, in the service - of which he foregoes the advantage of knowing much of anything else. - He commonly, however, has an observing eye and a deep disesteem for - the decent customs and conventionalities of his time and place. The - man in jail for publication of immoralities is always a socialist, - and the socialist “organ” has usually a profitable “line” of indecent - advertisements.</p> - - <p>As the socialist erroneously regards the criminal, so he is himself - rightly to be regarded. He is no heretic to be reclaimed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span> but a - patient to be restrained. He is sick. You cannot cure him; it is - useless to say to him: “Thou ailest here and there”; it is useless - to say anything to him but “Thou shalt not.” His unreason is what he - is a socialist with. That, too, is the cause of his inefficiency in - the competitions of life, for which, naturally, he would substitute - something “more nearly to the heart’s desire”—an order of things - in which all would share the rewards of efficiency. Always it is - the incapable who most loudly preaches the gospel of Equality and - Fraternity—which, being interpreted, means stand and deliver and look - pleasant about it. In the Cave of Adullam the credentialing shibboleth - is “Love me, damn you, as I love myself.”</p> - - <p>A distinguishing feature of socialism as we have the happiness to - know it in this country is its servitude to anarchism. In theory - the two are directly antithetical. They are the North and the - South Pole of political thought, leagues and leagues removed from - zones of intellectual fertility. Anarchism says: “Ye shall have - no law”; socialism: “Law is all that ye shall have.” They “pool - their issues” and make common cause, but let them succeed in their - work of destruction and their warfare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span> would not be accomplished: - there would remain the congenial task of destroying each other. The - present alliance is no figure of speech. It is a fact, unknown to the - follow-my-leader socialist, but not to his leader; not to observers - having acquaintance with the proselyting methods of the time; not at - the headquarters of anarchism in Paterson, New Jersey, where a great - body of socialist “literature” is written, printed and set going. - He who is not sufficiently “advanced” for anarchism is persuaded to - socialism. The babe is fed with malted milk until strong enough for the - double-distilled thunder-and-lightning of a more candid purveyance. - Whatever makes for discontent brings nearer the reign of reprisal.</p> - - <p>Our good friends who think with their tongues and pens are ever clamant - about the national perils alurk in luxury: it causes decay in men and - states, blights patriotism, invites invasion, impoverishes the paupers - and bites a dog. Luxury will make a boy strike his father (feebly) and - persuade the old man to a life of shame. It is well known that it so - enervated the Romans that they fell off the map. One does not need to - believe all that, nor any of it. The wealthy, living under<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span> sanitary - conditions, well housed, well fed, clean, free from fatigue (which is a - poison) are, as a class, distinctly superior to the poor, physically, - mentally and morally. It is among the well-to-do that gymnasia flourish - and athletic clubs abound. Your all-around athlete is commonly in - possession of a comfortable income; the hardy out-of-door sports are - practiced almost exclusively by those who do not have to do manual - labor. The top-hatted clubman can manhandle the hulking day-laborer - with ease and accuracy. His female is larger and fitter than the other - gentleman’s underfed and overworked mate, and brings forth a better - quality of young. All this is obvious to any but the most delinquent - observation; yet wealth and its attendant luxury are prophecies and - forerunners of the decay of nations.</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Hard are the steps, slow-hewn in flintiest rock,</div> - <div class="i0">States climb to power by; slippery those with gold</div> - <div class="i0">Down which they stumble to eternal mock.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>To one having knowledge of the prevalence and power of some of the - primal brute passions of the human mind the reason is clear enough: - riches and luxurious living provoke envy in the vast multitude to whom - they are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span> inaccessible through lack of efficiency; and from envy to - revenge and revolution the transition is natural and easy.</p> - - <p>In the youth of a nation there is virtual equality of fortunes—all are - poor. Sixty years ago there were probably not a half dozen millionaires - in America; the number now is not definitely known, but it runs into - thousands; that of persons of less but considerable wealth—enough to - take attention—into the hundreds of thousands. Poverty used to be - rather proud of our millionaires; they were so few that the poor man - seldom or never saw them, to mark the contrast between their abundance - and his privation. Now the two are everywhere neighbors. The poor man - sees “the idle rich” (who mostly work like beavers) in their carriages, - while himself walks and, if it please him so to do, “takes their dust.” - He looks into the windows of ballrooms and erroneously believes that - the gorgeous creatures within are happier than he. If he happen to be - so intellectual as to be distinguished in letters, art or some other - profitless pursuit as to be sought by them, all the keener is his sense - of the difference; all the more humiliating his inability to suffer - their particular kind of disillusion. Partly because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span> of that and - partly because he is not a thinker but a feeler, the poet, the artist - or the musician is almost invariably an audible socialist. True, some - of these “intellectuals” (they might better be called emotionals) are - themselves fairly thrifty and prosperous, and in the redistribution - of wealth which many of them impudently propose would be first to - experience the mischance of “restitution.” But doubtless they do not - expect their blessed “new order of things” to come in their day. - Meantime there are profit and a certain picturesqueness in “hailing the - dawn” of a better one, just as if it had already struck “the Sultan’s - tower with a shaft of light.”</p> - - <p>The socialist notion appears to be that the world’s wealth is a fixed - quantity, and A can acquire only by depriving B. He is fond of figuring - the rich as living upon the poor—riding on their backs, as Tolstoi - (staggering under the weight of his wife, to whom he had given his vast - estate) was pleased to signify the situation. The plain truth of the - matter is that the poor live mostly on the rich—entirely unless with - their own hands they dig a bare subsistence out of their own farms or - gravel claims; if they do better than that they are not poor. A man - may remain in poverty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span> all his life and be not only of no advantage - to his fellow poor men, but by his competition in the labor market - a harm to them; for in the abundance of labor lies the cause of low - wages, as even a socialist knows. As a consumer the man counts for - little, for he consumes only the bare necessaries of life. But, if - he pass from poverty to wealth he not only ceases to be a competing - laborer; he becomes a consumer of everything that he used to want—all - the luxuries by production of which nine-tenths of the labor class live - he now buys. He has added his voice to the chorus of demand. All the - industries of the world are so interrelated and interdependent that - none is unaffected in some infinitesimal degree by the new stimulation. - The good that he has done by passing from one class into another is - not so obvious as it would be if his wants were all supplied by one - versatile producer, purveying to him alone, but the sum of it is the - same. Yet the socialist finds a pleasure in directing attention to the - brass hoofs of the millionaire executing his joyous jig upon an empty - stomach—that of the prostrate pauper,—poets, muckrakers, demagogues - and other audibles fitly celebrating the performance with howls of - sensibility.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span></p> - - <p>A socialist was damning the wicked extravagance of the rich. A - thoughtful person said: “In New York City was a wealthy family, - the Bradley Martins. They were driven out of the country by public - indignation because they spent their money with a free hand. In the - same city was a wealthy man named Russell Sage. He was no less reviled - and calumniated, because he spent as little as he could and lent the - rest. In which instance was our ‘fierce democracie’ wise and righteous?”</p> - - <p>The answer was prompt and, O, so copious! Before it ceased to flow that - philosopher was a mile away from the subject, lost in an impenetrable - forest of words.</p> - - <p>Of course Russell Sage was no less valuable an asset to the “wage - slave” than the Bradley Martins, for there is no way by which one can - get profit or pleasure out of money except by paying it out, either by - his own hand directly, or indirectly by the hand of another, for wages - to labor. Eventually, sooner or later, it all reaches the pocket of the - producer, the workingman.</p> - - <p>We have so good a country here that more than a million a year of - Europe’s poor come over to share its advantages. In the patent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span> fact - that it is a land of opportunity and prosperity we feel a justifiable - pride; yet the crowning proof and natural result of this—the great - number that do prosper—“the multitude of millionaires”—has come to - be resented as an intolerable wrong, and he who is most clamorous - for opportunity (which he has never for a moment been without) - most austerely condemns those who have made the best use of it. An - instinctive antipathy to all in prosperity is the common ground - upon which anarchists and socialists stand to debate their several - interpretations of anarchism and socialism. On that rock they build - their church, and the gates of—the quotation is imperfectly applicable: - the gates are friendly and hospitable to denominationaries of their - faith.</p> - - <p>Another thing that these worthies have in common—and in common with - many unassorted sentimentaliters and effemininnies in this age of - unreason—is sympathy with crime. No avowed socialist but advocates a - rosewater penology that coddles the felon who has broken into prison to - enjoy a life of peace and plenty; none but would expel the warden and - flog the turnkey. All are proponents of the holy homily; all deny that - punishment deters from crime, although the discharged<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> convict never - renews his offense until driven by hunger or again persuaded by his - poor brute brain that he can escape detection; he does not enter and - rob the first house that he comes to, nor murder the first enemy that - he meets.</p> - - <p>That there are honest, clean-minded patriotic socialists goes without - saying. They are theorists and dreamers with a knowledge of life and - affairs a little profounder than that of a horse but not quite so - profound as that of a cow. But the “movement” as a social and political - force is, in this country, born of envy, the true purpose of its - activities, revenge. In the shadow of our national prosperity it whets - its knife for the throats of the prosperous. It unleashes the hounds of - hate upon the track of success—the only kind of success that it covets - and derides.</p> - - <p>How bit and bridle this wild ass of civilization? How make the - socialist behave himself, as in Germany, or unmask himself, as in - France? It looks as if this cannot be done. It looks as if we may - eventually have to prevent the multiplication of millionaires by - setting a legal limit to private fortunes. By some such cowardly and - statesmanlike concession we may perhaps anticipate and forestall<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span> the - more drastic action of our political Apaches, incited by Envy, wrecker - of empires and assassin of civilization. Meantime, let us put poppies - in our hair and be Democrats and Republicans.</p> - - <p>1910.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span> - <h3 id="GEORGE_THE_MADE_OVER">GEORGE THE MADE-OVER</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE English have a distinctly higher and better opinion of Washington - than is held in this country. Washington, if he could have a choice - in the matter, would indubitably prefer his position in the minds of - educated Englishmen to the one that he holds “in the hearts of his - countrymen”—not the one that he is said to hold. The superior validity - of the English view is due to the better view-point. It is remote, as - the American will be when several more generations shall have passed - and Americans are devoid (as Englishmen are devoid now) of passions - and prejudices engendered in the heat of our “Revolution.” We should - remember that it was not to the English a revolution, but a small and - distant squabble, which cut no great figure in the larger affairs in - which they were engaged; and the very memory of it was nearly effaced - in that of the next generation by the stupendous events of the French - Revolution and the Napoleonic<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span> wars. To ears filled with the thunders - of Waterloo, the crepitating echoes of the spat at Bunker Hill were - inaudible.</p> - - <p>No benign personage in the calendar of secular saints is really less - loved than Washington. The romancing historians and biographers have - adorned him with a thousand impossible virtues, naturally, and in so - dehumanizing him have set him beyond and above the longest reach of - human sympathies. His character, as it pleased them to create it, - is like nothing that we know about and care for. He is a monster of - goodness and wisdom, with about as much of light and fire as the - snow Adam of the small boy playing at creation on the campus of a - public school. The Washington-making Frankensteins have done their - work so badly that their creature is an insupportable bore, diffusing - an infectious dejection. Try to fancy an historical novel or drama - with him for hero—a poem with him for subject! Possibly such have - been written; I do not recall any at the moment, and the proposition - is hardly thinkable. The ideal Washington is a soulless conception, - absolutely without power on the imagination. Within the area of his - gelid efflation the flowers of fancy open only to wither, and any - sentiment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span> endeavoring to transgress the boundary of that desolate - domain falls frosted in its flight.</p> - - <p>Some one—Colonel Ingersoll, I fancy—has said that Washington is a steel - engraving. That is hardly an adequate conception, being derived from - the sense of sight only; the ear has something to say in the matter, - and there is much in a name. Before my studies of his character had - effaced my childish impression I used always to picture him in the act - of bending over a tub.</p> - - <p>There are two George Washingtons—the natural and the artificial. They - are now equally “great,” but the former was chokefull of the old Adam. - He swore like “our army in Flanders,” loved a bottle like a brother - and had an inter-colonial reputation as a lady-killer. He was, indeed, - a singularly interesting and magnetic old boy—one whom any sane and - honest lover of the picturesque in life and character would deem it - an honor and an education to have known in the flesh. He is now known - to but few; you must dig pretty deeply into the tumulus of rubbishy - panegyric—scan pretty closely the inedited annals of his time, in order - to see him as he was. Criss-crossed upon these failing parchments of - the past are the lines of the sleek<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span> Philistine, the smug patriot - and the lessoning moraler, making a palimpsest whereof all that is - legible is false and all that is honest is blotted out. The detestable - anthropolater of the biographical gift has pushed his glowing pen - across the page, to the unspeakable darkening of counsel. In short, - Washington’s countrymen see him through a glass dirtily. The image is - unlovely and unloved. You can no more love and revere the memory of the - biographical George Washington than you can an isosceles triangle or a - cubic foot of interstellar space.</p> - - <p>The portrait-painters began it—Gilbert Stuart and the rest of them. - They idealized all the humanity out of the poor patriot’s face and - passed him down to the engravers as a rather sleepy-looking butcher’s - block. There is not a portrait of Washington extant which a man of - taste and knowledge would suffer to hang on the wall of his stable. - Then the historians jumped in, raping all the laurels from the brows of - the man’s great contemporaries and piling them in confusion upon his - pate. They made him a god in wisdom, and a giant in arms; whereas, in - point of ability and service, he was but little, if at all, superior to - any one of a half-dozen of his now over-shadowed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span> but once illustrious - co-workers in council and camp, and in no way comparable with Hamilton. - He towers above his fellows because he stands upon a pile of books.</p> - - <p>The supreme indignity to the memory of this really worthy man has been - performed by the Sunday-scholiasts, the pietaries, the truly good, the - example-to-American-youth folk. These canting creatures have managed to - nake him of his last remaining rag of flesh and drain out his ultimate - red corpuscle of human blood. In order that he may be acceptable to - themselves they have made him a bore to everyone else. To give him - value as an “example” to the unripe intelligences of their following - they have whitewashed him an inch thick, draped him, fig-leafed him - and gilded him out of all semblance to man. To prepare his character - for the juvenile moral tooth they have boned it, and to make it - digestible to the juvenile moral paunch, unsalted it by maceration in - the milk-and-water of their own minds. And so we have him to-day. In a - single century the great-hearted gentleman of history has become the - good boy of literature—the public prig. Washington is the capon of our - barnyard Pantheon—revised and edited for the table.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span> - <h3 id="JOHN_SMITHS_ANCESTORS">JOHN SMITH’S ANCESTORS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">READER mine, wisest of mortals that you are, do you feel sure that - you know how to deal with a proposition, which is at the same time - unquestionable and impossible—which must be true, yet can not be true? - Do you know just what degree of intellectual hospitality to give to - such a proposition—whether to receive and entertain it (and if so - how) or cast it from you, and how to do that? Possibly you were never - consciously at bay before a proposition of that kind, and therefore - lack the advantage of skill in its disposal. Attend, then, O child of - mortality—consider and be wise:</p> - - <p>You have, or have had, two parents—whom God prosper if they live and - rest if dead. Each of them had two parents; in other words, you had at - some time and somewhere four grandparents, and right worthy persons - they were, I’ll be sworn, albeit you may not be able to name them - without stopping to take thought. Of great-grandparents you surely - had no fewer than eight—that is to say,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span> no further away than three - generations your ancestors numbered eight persons, now in heaven. - In countries which are pleased to call themselves civilized and - enlightened “a generation” means about thirty-four years. Not long ago - it meant thirty-three, but improved methods of distribution, sanitation - and so forth have added a year to the average duration of human life, - though they have not pointed out any profitable use to make of the - addition. All this amounts to saying (acceptably, I trust) that at each - remove of thirty-four years back toward Adam and his time you double - the number of your ancestors. Among so many some, naturally, were truly - modest persons, and I don’t know that you would care to have so much - said about them as I shall have to say; so, if you please, we will - speak of Mr. John Smith’s instead.</p> - - <p>John Smith, then, whom I know very well, and greatly esteem, and who is - approaching middle age, had, about 34 years ago, two ancestors. About - 102 years ago, say in the year of grace 1792, he had eight—though he - did not have himself. You can do the rest of the figuring yourself - if you care to go on and are unwilling to take my word for what - follows—the astonishing state of things which I am<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span> about to thrust - upon your attention. Just keep doubling the number of John Smith’s - ancestors until you get the number 1,073,741,824. Now when do you - suppose it was that Mr. Smith had that number of living ancestors? - Make your calculation, allowing 34 years for each time that you have - multiplied by two, and you will find that it was about the year 879. - It seems a rather modern date and a goodish number of persons to be - concerning themselves, however unconsciously, in the begetting of - Neighbor John, but that is not “where it hurts.” The point is that - the number of his ancestors, so far as we have gone, is about the - number of the earth’s inhabitants at that date—little and big; white, - black, brown, yellow and blue; males, females and girls. I do not - care to point out Mr. Smith’s presumption in professing himself an - Anglo-Saxon—with all that mixed blood in the veins of him; perhaps he - has never made this calculation and does not know from just what stock - he has the honor to have descended, though truly this distinguished - scion of an illustrious race might seem to be justified in calling - himself a Son of Earth.</p> - - <p>But is he not more than that? In the generation immediately preceding - the one under<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span> consideration the number of the gentleman’s ancestors - must have been twice as great, namely, 2,147,483,648—more than two - thousand millions, or some five hundred millions more than Earth is - infested with even now. Where did all those people live?—in Mars? And - to what political or other causes was due the migration to Earth, <i>en - masse</i>, of their sons and daughters in the next generation?</p> - - <p>Does the reader care to follow up Mr. Smith’s long illustrious line - any further—back to the wee, sma’ years of the Christian era, for - example? Well and good, but I warn him that geometrical progression, - as he has already observed, “counts up.” Long before his calculations - have reached back to the first merry Christmas he will find Mr. Smith’s - ancestors—if they were really all terrestrial in their habits—piled - many-deep over the entire surface of all the continents, islands and - ice-floes of this distracted globe. A decent respect for the religious - convictions of my countrymen forbids me even to hint at what the - calculation would show if carried back to the time of Adam and Eve.</p> - - <p>It will perhaps be observed that I have left out of consideration the - circumstance that John Smith (my particular John) is not the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span> sole - living inhabitant of Earth to-day: there are others, though mostly of - the same name, whose ancestors would somewhat swell the totals. In - mercy to the reader I have ignored them, one man being sufficient for - my purpose.</p> - - <p>Must not John Smith have had all those ancestors? Certainly. Could - all those ancestors of John Smith have existed? Certainly not. Have I - not, therefore, as I promised to do, conducted the reader against “a - proposition which is at the same time unquestionable and impossible”—a - statement “which must be true, yet can not be true”? According to the - best of my belief he is there. And there I leave him. Any gentleman not - content to remain there with his face to the wall is at liberty to go - over it or through it if he can. Doubtless the world will be delighted - to hear him expose the fallacy of my reasoning and the falsehood of my - figures. And I shall be pleased myself.</p> - - <p>1894.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> - <h3 id="THE_MOON_IN_LETTERS">THE MOON IN LETTERS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">FOR some months my friends had been benumbing the membranes of my two - ears with praises of the then newest literary pet, who exulted in a - name disagreeably suggestive of Death on a Pale Horse, Mr. H. Rider - Haggard, and I meekly assented to his greatness. They had insisted that - I read him, but this monstrous demand I had hitherto had the strength - to resist. But we all have our moments of weakness, so I squandered - twenty-five cents on the “Seaside” edition of the great man’s greatest - work, <i>King Solomon’s Mines</i>. On page 84 I found something that - interested me, something astronomical, showing how keenly the famous - author observes the commonest phenomena of nature. Turning down a leaf - and bearing the matter in mind, I read on. At page 97 I turned down - another leaf, and at page 112 a third. On these three pages are related - astronomical events occurring in Africa on the evening of June 2, the - evening of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span> June 3, and at about midday June 4, respectively. Let us - summarize them by quotation: June 2 (p. 84): “The sun sunk and the - world was wreathed in shadows. But not for long, for see, in the east - there is a glow, then a bent edge of silver light, and at last the full - bow of the crescent moon peeps above the plain.”</p> - - <p>June 3 (p. 97): “About 10 the full moon came up in splendor.”</p> - - <p>June 4 (p. 112): “I glanced up at the sun and to my intense joy saw - that we had made no mistake. On the edge of its brilliant surface was a - faint rim of shadow.” Which grows to a total eclipse.</p> - - <p>What else ensues I am unable to say. A writer who believes that the new - moon can rise in the east soon after sunset and the full moon at 10 - o’clock; who thinks the second of these remarkable phenomena can occur - twenty-four hours after the first, and itself be followed some fourteen - hours later by an eclipse of the sun—such a man may be a gifted writer, - but I am not a gifted reader. I wash my mind of him, and sentence him - to the good opinion of his admirers.</p> - - <p>Another sinner on my list of authors ignorant in respect of the moon’s - movements and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span> phases is William Black. In the third chapter of his - <i>Princess of Thule</i> is the following sentence: “Was Sheila about - to sing in this clear strange twilight while they sat there and watched - the yellow moon come up behind the Southern hills?” The spectacle - of the moon rising in the south is one which Heaven has denied to - all except the characters in Black’s novels. It is not surprising - that Sheila “was about to sing”: she must have felt something of the - exultation which swells the bosom of that favored child of Destiny, the - small boy who has crept in under the canvas when the menagerie people - are painting the tiger. - </p> - - <p>It may be borne in mind that Black’s south-rising moon came up during - the twilight—that is to say, shortly after sunset. It would be, - therefore, nearly “half-full” to the eye of the terrestrial observer; - but referring to a later hour of the same evening Black says: “There - into the beautiful dome rose the golden <i>crescent</i> of the moon, - warm in color as though it still retained the last rays of the sunset.” - Concerning the last clause of this astonishing sentence it may be asked - from what source Black supposed the moon’s light to be derived, or if - he regarded her as self-luminous. The truth probably is that he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span> no - definite ideas about the matter at all. He was in the same comfortable - mental state as the worthy countryman who, being asked what he thought - of total depravity, promptly replied that if it was in the Bible he was - in favor of it.</p> - - <p>In dismissing Black I can not forbear to add that even if the moon - could rise in the south; even if rising in the south it should continue - rising into the dome when it should be setting; even if rising in - the south soon after sunset a half-moon, as it would necessarily be, - and continuing to rise into the dome when it should be setting, it - could dwindle to a crescent, it could not be of a warm color. The - crescent moon is as cold in color as a new dime—almost as cold as a - quarter-dollar. In a bench-show of astronomers I doubt if Black would - have been awarded a blue ribbon.</p> - - <p>I have been reading a story by Mr. Edgar Saltus: “A Maid of Athens”—a - story which, like a forgotten candle, burns on well enough to the end - and then dies in its own grease. But that is not the point; I find this - passage:</p> - - <p>“Beneath descending night, the sky was gold-barred and green. In the - east the moon glittered like a sickle of tin.”</p> - - <p>I shall have to add Mr. Saltus to my company<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span> of authors with private - systems of astronomy. The imagination robust enough to conceive a - crescent moon in the east at nightfall might even claim a place in a - dime museum.</p> - - <p>Spielhagan has his full moon on the horizon at midnight by the castle - clock.</p> - - <p>But the novelists are not alone in their ignorance of what is before - their eyes all their blessed lives: the poets know no more than they. - In her <i>Songs of the Night-Watches</i> Jean Ingelow compels “a - slender moon” to “float up from behind” a person looking at the sunset - sky, and afterward makes the full moon “behind some ruined roof swim - up” at daybreak. To rout out the moon so early and make it get up, when - it must have been up all night attending to its duty as a full moon of - orderly habits, is a trifle heartless. In “Daylight and Moonlight,” - Longfellow, who seems imperfectly to have known how the latter was - produced, tells of a time when at midday he saw the moon</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Sailing high, but faint and white</div> - <div class="i0">As a schoolboy’s paper kite.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>Now if it was sailing high at noon it must<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span> have been, as seen from - earth, nearly on a line with the sun—that is to say, but little more - than “new”—that is to say, invisible in the daytime. But that is not - the worst of this business. A new moon is not only invisible at noon, - but sets soon after sunset, and would give but little light if it did - not. Yet this unearthly observer after relating how night came on adds:</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Then the moon, in all her pride,</div> - <div class="i0">Like a spirit glorified,</div> - <div class="i0">Filled and overflowed the night</div> - <div class="i0">With revelations of her light.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>It is mournful to think that this popular poet lived out his long - serene life without anybody suspecting his condition, nor offering him - the comforts of an asylum.</p> - - <p>I have found similar blunders in the poems of Wordsworth, Coleridge, - Schiller, Moore, Shelley, Tennyson and Bayard Taylor. Of course a poet - is entitled to any kind of universe that may best suit his purpose, and - if he could give us better poetry by making the moon rise “full-orbed” - in the northwest and set like a “tin sickle” in the zenith I should - go in for letting him have his fling. But I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span> do not discern any gain - in “sweetness and light” from these despotic readjustments of the - relations among sun, earth and moon, and must set it all down to the - account of ignorance, which, in any degree and however excusable, is - not a thing to be admired. Concerning nothing is it more general, more - deep, more dark, more invincible, nor withal, more needless, than it is - with regard to movements and visible aspects of our satellite. How one - can have eyes and not know the pranks of the several heavenly bodies - is possibly obvious to Omniscience, but a finite mind cannot rightly - understand it.</p> - - <p>We will suppose that our planet is without a satellite. The nights - are brilliant or starless, as the clouds may determine, but in all - the measureless reaches of space is no world having a visible disk, - with vicissitudes of light and shadow. One day a famous man of science - announces in the public prints a startling discovery. He has found an - orb, smaller than the earth but of considerable magnitude, moving in - such a direction and at such a rate of speed that at a stated time the - next year it will have approached our sphere so closely as to be caught - by its attractive power and held, a prisoner, wheeling round and round<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span> - in a vain endeavor to escape. He goes on to explain that the invisible - tether will be, astronomically speaking, but a stone’s throw in length: - the captive world will have in fact the astonishing propinquity of - only a quarter of a million miles! We shall be able to see, even with - unassisted eyes, the very mountains and valleys upon its surface, - while a glass of moderate power will show, not only these mountains - (many times higher than those of our own orb) with perfect definition, - their long black shadows projected upon the plains, but will reveal - the details of extinct craters wide enough to engulf a terrestrial - province, and how deep Heaven knows. Upon this strange new world, the - great man goes on to say, we shall be able to observe the mutations of - its day and night, tracing the lines of its dawn and sunset exactly as, - if we were there, we could observe the more rapid changes upon the body - of our own planet; and surely it would be worth something to stand away - from our spinning orb and take in all its visible vicissitudes in one - comprehensive view.</p> - - <p>It is easy to see the effect of such an announcement, verified by - the apparition of the orb at the calculated place and time. All the - civilized nations would be in a ferment. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span> newspapers would be full - of the subject. Journalism would be conducted by the astronomers and - nothing but the coming orb would be talked of; many would go mad from - excitement. And when the celestial monster, moving aimless through - space, should swim into the earth’s attraction and go whirling in - its new orbit how we should study it, attentive to its every visible - aspect, alertly sensible to its changes and profoundly moved by the - desolate sublimity of its stupendous scenery. For a half of every lunar - month the churches, lyceums, theaters—all the places of instruction or - amusement where people now assemble by artificial light would close - at sunset and the whole population would take to the hills. Colleges, - societies and clubs would be founded for the new knowledge; every human - being, with opportunity and capacity, would become a specialist in - selenography and selenology—a lunar expert, devoted to his science. - Not to know all about the moon would be considered as discreditable as - illiteracy is considered now. Well, the moon we have always with us, - and not one man in a thousand nor one author in a hundred knows any - more about it than that it is frequently invisible and commonly not - round. On other subjects<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span> there is less ignorance: at least three in a - thousand know that the stars are not the same as the planets, though - two of the three are unable to say what is a planet and what is a star.</p> - - <p>That immortal ass, “the average man,” sees with nothing but his eyes. - To him a planet or a star is only a point of light—a bright dot, a - golden fly-speck on “the sky.” He does not see it as a prodigious globe - swimming through the unthinkable depths of space. With only the heavens - for company the poor devil is bored. When out alone on a clear night - he wants to get himself home to his female and young and—unfailing - expedient of intellectual vacuity—go to bed. The glories and splendors - of the firmament are no more to him than a primrose was to Peter Bell. - Let us leave him snoring pigly in his blankets and turn to other - themes, not forgetting that he is our lawful ruler, nor permitted to - forget the insupportable effects of his ferocious rule.</p> - - <p>1903.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span> - <h3 id="COLUMBUS">COLUMBUS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE human mind is affected with a singular disability to get a sense - of an historical event without a gigantic figure in the foreground - overtopping all his fellows. As surely as God liveth, if one hundred - congenital idiots were set adrift in a scow to get rid of them, and, - borne by favoring currents into eyeshot of an unknown continent, should - simultaneously shout, “Land ho!” instantly drowning in their own drool, - we should have one of them figuring in history ever thereafter with a - growing glory as an illustrious discoverer of his time. I do not say - that Columbus was a navigator and discoverer of that kind, nor that he - did anything of that kind in that way; the parallel is perfect only - in what history has done to Columbus; and some seventy millions of - Americans are authenticating the imposture all they know how. In this - whole black business hardly one element of falsehood is lacking.</p> - - <p>Columbus was not a learned man, but an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span> ignorant. He was not an - honorable man, but a professional pirate. He was, in the most hateful - sense of the word, an adventurer. His voyage was undertaken with a - view solely to his own advantage, the gratification of an incredible - avarice. In the lust of gold he committed deeds of cruelty, treachery - and oppression for which no fitting names are found in the vocabulary - of any modern tongue. To the harmless and hospitable peoples among whom - he came he was a terror and a curse. He tortured them, he murdered - them, he sent them over the sea as slaves. So monstrous were his - crimes, so conscienceless his ambition, so insatiable his greed, so - black his treachery to his sovereign, that in his mere imprisonment and - disgrace we have a notable instance of “the miscarriage of justice.” - In the black abysm of this man’s character we may pile falsehood upon - falsehood, but we shall never build the monument high enough to top - the shadow of his shame. Upon the culm and crown of that reverend pile - every angel will still look down and weep.</p> - - <p>We are told that Columbus was no worse than the men of his race and - generation—that his vices were “those of his time.” No vices are - peculiar to any time; this world has been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span> vicious from the dawn of - history, and every race has reeked with sin. To say of a man that he - is like his contemporaries is to say that he is a scoundrel without - excuse. The virtues are accessible to all. Athens was vicious, yet - Socrates was virtuous. Rome was corrupt, but Marcus Aurelius was not - corrupt. To offset Nero the gods gave Seneca. When literary France - groveled at the feet of the third Napoleon Hugo stood erect.</p> - - <p>It will be a dark day for the world when infractions of the moral law - by A and B are accepted as justification of the sins of C. But even in - the days of Columbus men were not all pirates; God inspired enough of - them to be merchants to serve as prey for the others; and while turning - his honest penny by plundering them, the great Christopher was worsted - by a Venetian trading galley and had to pickle his pelt in a six-mile - swim to the Portuguese coast, a wiser and a wetter thief. If he had - had the hard luck to drown we might none of us have been Americans, - but the gods would have missed the revolting spectacle of an entire - people prostrate before the blood-beslubbered image of a moral idiot, - performing solemn rites of adoration with a litany of lies.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span></p> - - <p>In comparison with the crimes of Columbus his follies cut a sorry - figure. Yet the foolhardy enterprise to whose failure he owes his fame - is entitled to distinction. With sense enough to understand the earth’s - spheroid form (he thought it pear-shaped) but without knowledge of its - size, he believed that he could reach India by sailing westward and - died in the delusion that he had done so—a trifling miscalculation—a - matter of eight or ten thousands of miles. If this continent had - not happened to lie right across his way he and his merry men would - all have gone fishing, with themselves for bait and the devil a - hook among them. Firmness is persistence in the right; obstinacy is - persistence in the wrong. With the light that he had, Columbus was - so wildly, dismally and fantastically wrong that his refusal to turn - back was nothing less than pig-headed unreason, and his crews would - have been abundantly justified in deposing him. The wisdom of an - act is not to be determined by the outcome, but by the performer’s - reasonable expectation of success. And after all, the expedition failed - lamentably. It accomplished no part of its purpose, but by a happy - chance it accomplished something better—for us. As to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span> red Indians, - such of them as have been good enough to assist in apotheosis of the - man whom their ancestors had the deep misfortune to discover may justly - boast themselves the most magnanimous of mammals.</p> - - <p>And when all is conceded there remains the affronting falsehood that - Columbus discovered America. Surely in all these drunken orgies of - beatification—in all this carnival of lies there should be found - some small place for Lief Ericsson and his wholesome Northmen, who - discovered, colonized and abandoned this continent five hundred - years before, and of whom we are forbidden to think as corsairs and - slave-catchers. The eulogist is always a calumniator. The crown that - he sets upon the unworthy head he first tears from the head that is - worthy. So the honest fame of Lief Ericsson is cast as rubbish to the - void, and the Genoese pirate is pedestaled in his place.</p> - - <p>But falsehood and ingratitude are sins against Nature, and Nature is - not to be trifled with. Already we feel, or ought to feel, the smart of - her lash. Our follies are finding us out. Our Columbian Exhibition has - for its chief exhibit our national stupidity, and displays our shame. - Our Congress “improves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span> the occasion” to make a disgraceful surrender - to the Chadbands and Stigginses of churches by a bitter observance of - the Sabbath. Managers of the show steal the first one thousand dollars - that come into their hands by bestowing them upon a schoolgirl related - to one of themselves, for a “Commemoration Ode” as long as the language - and as foolish as its grammar—the ragged, tagless and bobtailed yellow - dog of commemoration odes. And <i>this</i> while Whittier lived to - suffer the insult, and Holmes to resent it. What further exhibits - of our national stupidity and lack of moral sense space has been - engaged for in the world’s contempt one can only conjecture. In the - meantime state appropriations are being looted, art is in process of - caricature, literature is debauched, and we have a Columbian Bureau - of Investigation and Suppression with a daily mail as voluminous as - that of a commercial city. If at the finish of this revealing revelry - self-respecting Americans shall not have lost through excessive use the - power to blush, and all Europe the ability to laugh, another Darwin - should write another book on the expression of the emotions in men and - animals.</p> - - <p>That nothing might be lacking to the absurdity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span> of the scheme, the - falsehood marking all the methods of its execution, we must needs avail - ourselves of an alteration in the calendar and have two anniversary - celebrations of one event. And in culmination of this comedy of - falsehood, the later date must formally open, with dedicatory rites, an - exhibition which will not be open for six months. One falsehood begets - another and another in the line of succession, until the father of them - all shall have colonized his whole progeny upon the congenial soil of - this new Dark Continent.</p> - - <p>Why should not the four-hundredth anniversary of the rediscovery - of America have been made memorable by fitly celebrating it with a - becoming sense of the stupendous importance of the event, without - thrusting into the forefront of the rites the dismal personality of - the very small man who made the find? Could not the most prosperous - and vain people of the earth see anything to celebrate in the four - centuries between San Salvador and Chicago but it must sophisticate - history by picking that offensive creature out of his shame to make him - a central, dominating figure of the festival? Thank Heaven, there is - one thing that all the genius of the anthropolaters can not do. Quarrel - as we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span> may about the relative claims to authenticity of portraits - painted from description, we can not perpetuate the rogue’s visible - appearance “in his habit as he lived.” Audible to the ear of the - understanding fall with unceasing iteration from the lips of his every - statue in every land the words, “I am a lie!”</p> - - <p>1892.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span> - <h3 id="THE_RELIGION_OF_THE_TABLE">THE RELIGION OF THE TABLE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">WHEN the starving peasantry of France were bearing with inimitable - fortitude their great bereavement in the death of Louis le Grand, - how cheerfully they must have bowed their necks to the easy yoke of - Philip of Orleans, who set them an example in eating which he had not - the slightest objection to their following. A monarch skilled in the - mysteries of the cuisine must wield the scepter all the more gently - for his schooling in handling the ladle. In royalty, the delicate - manipulation of an omelette soufflé is at once an evidence of genius, - and an assurance of a tender forbearance in state policy. All good - rulers have been good livers, and if most bad ones have been the same - this merely proves that even the worst of men have still something - divine in them.</p> - - <p>There is more in a good dinner than is disclosed by removal of the - covers. Where the eye of hunger perceives only a juicy roast that - of faith detects a smoking god. A well cooked joint is redolent of - religion, and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span> delicate pasty crisp with charity. The man who can - light his after-dinner Havana without feeling full to the neck with - all the cardinal virtues is either steeped in iniquity or has dined - badly. In either case he is no true man. It is here held that it is - morally impossible for a man to dine daily upon the fat of the land in - courses and yet deny a future state of existence beatific with beef and - ecstatic with all edibles. A falsity of history is that of Heliogabalus - dining on nightingales’ tongues. No true gourmet would ever send a - nightingale to the shambles so long as scarcer, and therefore, better - songsters might be obtained.</p> - - <p>It is a fine natural instinct that teaches the hungry and cadaverous to - avoid the temples of religion, and a shortsighted and misdirected zeal - that would gather them into it. Religion is for the oleaginous, the - fat-bellied, chyle-saturated devotees of the table. Unless the stomach - be lined with good things, the parson may say as many as he can and his - truths shall not be swallowed nor his wisdom inly digested. Probably - the highest, ripest, and most acceptable form of worship is performed - with a knife and fork; and whosoever on the resurrection morning can - produce from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span> amongst the lumber of his cast-off flesh a thin-coated - and elastic stomach showing evidences of daily stretchings done in the - body will find it his readiest passport and best credential. Surely God - will not hold him guiltless who eats with his knife, but if the deadly - steel be always well laden with toothsome morsels divine justice will - be tempered with mercy to that man’s soul. When the author of <i>The - Lost Tales of Miletus</i> represented Sisyphus as capturing his guest, - the King of Terrors, and stuffing the old glutton with meat and drink - until he became “a jolly, rubicund, tun-bellied Death,” he gave us a - tale that needs no “<i>hæc fabula docet</i>” to point out the moral.</p> - - <p>I verily believe that Shakspeare writ down Fat Jack at his last gasp, - as babbling, not o’ green fields, but o’ green turtle, and that - starveling, Colley Cibber, altered the text from sheer envy of a good - man’s death. To die well we must live well, is a familiar platitude. - Morality is, of course, best promoted by the good quality of our fare, - but quantitative excellence is by no means to be despised. <i>Cæteris - paribus</i>, the man who eats much is a better Christian than the man - who eats little; and he who eats little will live more godly than he - who eats nothing.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span> - <h3 id="REVISION_DOWNWARD">REVISION DOWNWARD</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE big man’s belief in himself is not surprising, and in respect of - a trial of muscular strength it is well founded, but the preference - of all nations, their parliaments and people, for tall soldiers is a - “survival,” an inherited faith held without examination. Men in battle - no longer come into actual personal contact with their enemies in such - a way that superior weight and strength are advantageous; and superior - size is a disadvantage, for it means a larger mark for bullets.</p> - - <p>In our civil war the big men were soonest invalided and sent home. They - soonest gave in to the fatigues of campaign and charge. The little - fellows, more “wiry” and enduring were the better material. I am - compelled to affirm this from personal observation, knowing no other - authority, though for so obvious a fact other authority must exist. - Incidentally, I may explain that I am nearly six feet long.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span></p> - - <p>What is true of men is true of horses. Strength, which implies size, is - necessary in the horse militant, particularly in the artillery; but it - is got at the expense of agility and endurance. The “toughest” American - horse is the little Western “cayuse,” the “Indian pony” of our early - literature.</p> - - <p>This matter of so-called “degeneration” in the stature of men and - animals has a more than military interest. It is not without meaning - that all peoples have traditions of giants, and that all literatures - are full of references to a remote ancestry of superior size and - strength. Even Homer tells of his heroes before the walls of Troy - hurling at one another such stones as ten strong men of his degenerate - day could not have lifted from the earth.</p> - - <p>The kernel of truth in all this is that the human race is actually - decreasing in size. But this is not “degeneration.” It is improvement. - Where are the megatherium, the dinosaurus, the mammoth and the - mastodon? Where is the pterodactyl? What has happened to the moa and - the other gigantic bird whose name I do not at this moment recall—maybe - the epiornis? Condemned and executed by Nature for unfitness in the - struggle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span> for existence. The elephant, the hippopotamus and the - rhinoceros are traveling the same road to extinction, and the late - American bison could show them the way.</p> - - <p>What is the disadvantage of bulk in animals? Feebleness. For an animal - twice as heavy as another of the same species to have the same activity - it would have to be not twice as strong, but four times as strong; and - for some reason to this deponent unknown, Nature does not make it so. - If four times as large, it would need to be sixteen times as strong.</p> - - <p>Observe the large birds; the little ones, the swallows and “hummers,” - can fly circles around them. The biggest of them can not fly at all - and their wings, from disuse, are vestigial. Many insects can fly, not - only proportionately faster and farther than even the humming-bird, - but actually. Is there, possibly, a lesson in this for the ingenious - gentlemen who expect the freight and passenger business of the future - to be done in the air?</p> - - <p>We are all familiar with the fact that if a man were as strong and - agile in proportion as a flea he could leap several miles; one can - figure out the exact number for oneself. If as strong as an ant he - could shoulder and lug<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span> away a six-inch rifle and its carriage. - Doubtless in the course of evolution (if evolution is permanent) man - (if man is spared) will have the ant’s strength—and the ant’s size.</p> - - <p>Considering the advantages that the smaller insects and animalculæ - have in the struggle for existence and the wonderful powers and - capacities it must have developed in them—which we know, indeed, from - such observers as Sir John Lubbock it actually has developed in the - ant—I can see no reason to doubt that some of them have attained a high - degree of civilization and enlightenment.</p> - - <p>To this view it may be said in objection that we, not they, are masters - of the world. That has nothing to do with it; to insect civilization - dominion may not be at all desirable. But are we masters? Wait till we - have subdued the red flea and the house-fly; then, as we lay off our - armor, we may more becomingly boast.</p> - - <p>1903.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span> - <h3 id="THE_ART_OF_CONTROVERSY">THE ART OF CONTROVERSY</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">ONE who has not lived a life of controversy, yet has some knowledge of - its laws and methods, would, I think, find a difficulty in conceiving - the infantile ignorance of the race in general as to what constitutes - argument, evidence and proof. Even lawyers and judges, whose profession - it is to consider evidence, to sift it and pass upon it, are but little - wiser in that way than others when the matter in hand is philosophy, - or religion, or something outside the written law. Concerning these - high themes, I have heard from the lips of hoary benchers so idiotic - argument based on so meaningless evidence as made me shudder at the - thought of being tried before them on an indictment charging me with - having swallowed a neighbor’s step-ladder. Yet doubtless in a matter - of mere law these venerable babes would deliver judgment that would be - roughly reasonable and approximately right. The theologian,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span> on the - contrary, is never so irrational as in his own trade; for, whatever - religion may be, theology is a thing of unreason altogether, an edifice - of assumptions and dreams, a superstructure without a substructure, an - invention of the devil. It is to religion what law is to justice, what - etiquette is to courtesy, astrology to astronomy, alchemy to chemistry - and medicine to hygiene. The theologian can not reason, for persons who - can reason do not go in for theology. Its name refutes it: theology - means discourse of God, concerning whom some of its expounders say that - he has no existence and all the others that he can not be known.</p> - - <p>I set out to show the folly of men who think they think—to give a few - typical examples of what they are pleased to call “evidence” supporting - their views. I shall take them from the work of a man of far more than - the average intelligence dealing with the doctrine of immortality. He - is a believer and thinks it possible that immortal human souls are on - an endless journey from star to star, inhabiting them in turn. And he - “proves” it thus:</p> - - <p>“No one thinks of space without knowing that it can be traversed; - consequently the conception<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> of space implies the ability to traverse - it.”</p> - - <p>But how far? He could as cogently say: “No one thinks of the ocean - without knowing that it can be swum in; consequently the conception of - ocean implies the ability to swim from New York to Liverpool.” Here is - another precious bit of testimony:</p> - - <p>“The fact that man can conceive the idea of space without beginning or - end implies that man is on a journey without beginning or end. In fact, - it is strong evidence of the immortality of man.”</p> - - <p>Good—now observe the possibilities in that kind of “reasoning”: The - fact that a pig can conceive the idea of a turnip implies that the pig - is climbing a tree bearing turnips—which is strong evidence that the - pig is a fish. In each of the gentleman’s <i>dicta</i> the first part - no more “implies” what follows than it implies a weeping baboon on a - crimson iceberg.</p> - - <p>Of the same unearthly sort are two more of this innocent’s deliveries:</p> - - <p>“The fact that we do not remember our former lives is no proof of our - never having existed. We would remember them if we had accomplished - something worth remembering.”</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span></p> - - <p>Note the unconscious <i>petitio principii</i> involved in the first - “our” and the pure assumption in the second sentence.</p> - - <p>“We all know that character, traits and habits are as distinct in young - children as in adults. This shows that if we had no pre-existence all - men would have the same character and traits and appearance, and would - be turned out on the same model.”</p> - - <p>As apples are, for example, or pebbles, or cats. Unfortunately we do - not “all” know, nor does any of us know, nor is it true, that young - children have as much individuality as adults. And if we did all know - it, or if any of us knew it, or if it were true, neither the fact - itself nor the knowledge of it would “show” any such thing as that the - differences could be produced by pre-existence only. They might be due - to the will of God, or to some agency that no man has ever thought - about, or has thought about but has not known to have that effect. - In point of fact, we know that such peculiarities of character and - disposition as a young child has are not brought from a former life - across a gulf whose brinks are death and birth, but are endowments from - the lives of others here. They are not individual,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span> but hereditary—not - vestigial, but ancestral.</p> - - <p>The kind of “argument” here illustrated by horrible example is not - peculiar to religious nor doctrinal themes, but characterizes men’s - reasoning in general. It is the rule everywhere—in oral discussion, - in books, in newspapers. Assertions that mean nothing, testimony that - is not evidence, facts having no relation to the matter in hand, - and (everywhere and always) the sickening <i>non sequitur</i>: the - conclusion that has nothing to do with the premises. I know not if - there is another life, but if there is I do hope that to obtain it all - will have to pass a rigid examination in logic and the art of not being - a fool.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>In an unfriendly controversy it is important to remember that the - public, in most cases, neither cares for the outcome of the fray, nor - will remember its incidents. The controversialist should therefore - confine his efforts and powers to accomplishment of two main purposes: - 1—entertainment of the reader: 2—personal gratification. For the first - of these objects no rules can be given; the good writer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span> will entertain - and the bad one will not, no matter what is the subject. The second is - accomplishable (a) by guarding your self-respect; (b) by destroying - your adversary’s self-respect; (c) by making him respect you, against - his will, as much as you respect yourself; (d) by provoking him into - the blunder of permitting you to despise him. It follows that any - falsification, prevarication, dodging, misrepresentation or other - cheating on the part of one antagonist is a distinct advantage to the - other, and by him devoutly to be wished. The public cares nothing for - it, and if deceived will forget the deception; but <i>he</i> never - forgets. I would no more willingly let my opponent find a flaw in my - truth, honesty and frankness than in fencing I would let him beat down - my guard. Of that part of victory which consists in respecting yourself - and making your adversary respect you you can be always sure if you - are worthy of respect; of that part which consists in despising him - and making him despise himself you are not sure; that depends on his - skill. He may be a very despicable person yet so cunning of fence—that - is to say, so frank and honest in writing—that you will not find out - his unworth. Remember that what you want is not so much to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span> disclose - his meanness to the reader (who cares nothing about it) as to make him - disclose it to your private discernment. That is the whole gospel of - controversial strategy.</p> - - <p>You are one of two gladiators in the arena: your first duty is to amuse - the multitude. But as the multitude is not going to remember very long - after leaving the show who was victorious, it is not worth while to - take any hurts for a merely visible advantage. So fight as to prove to - yourself and to your adversary that you are the abler swordsman—that - is, the more honorable man. Victory in that is important, for it is - lasting, and is enjoyed ever afterward when you see or think of the - vanquished. If in the battle I get a foul stroke, that is a distinct - gain, for I never by any possibility forget that the man who delivered - it is a foul man. That is what I wanted to think him, and the very - thing which he should most strenuously have striven to prevent my - knowing. I may meet him in the street, at the club, any place where I - can not help it; under whatever circumstances he becomes present to my - consciousness I find a fresh delight in recalling my moral superiority - and in despising him anew. Is it not strange, then, that ninety-nine - disputants in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span> hundred deliberately and in cold blood concede to - their antagonists this supreme and decisive advantage in pursuit of one - which is merely illusory? Their faults are, first, of course, lack of - character; second, lack of sense. They are like an enraged mob engaged - in hostilities without having taken the trouble to know something of - the art of war. Happily for them, if they are defeated they do not know - it: they have not even the sense to ascribe their sufferings to their wounds.</p> - - <p>1899.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span> - <h3 id="IN_THE_INFANCY_OF_TRUSTS">IN THE INFANCY OF “TRUSTS”</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE battle against the “trusts” is conspicuously “on.” I venture to - predict that it will fail, and to think that it ought to fail. That - it ought to fail is, in this bad world, no good reason for thinking - that it will; there is a strong numerical presumption the other way. - For doubting the success of this “movement” there are reasons having - nothing to do with the righteousness or unrighteousness of the cause. - One is that the entire trend of our modern civilization is toward - combination and aggregation. In the “concert of the great powers” - of Europe we see its most significant, most beneficent and grandest - manifestation. Denounce it how we will, fight it as we may, we are - powerless to stay its advance in any department of human activity, - social, industrial, commercial, military, political. It is the dominant - phenomenon of our time. Labor combines into “unions,” capital into - “trusts,” and each aggregation is powerful in everything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span> except in - combating its own methods in the other. The newspaper denounces the - one or the other—and joins a syndicate of newspapers. “Department - stores” spring up all over the land, draw the fire of the demagogue - and are impotently condemned in the platform of the political trust - that he adorns. Our great hotels are examples of the same centripetal - law, and offices move to the center into buildings overlooking the - church spires. Small farms are disappearing; railways absorb other - railways and by pooling interests with those unabsorbed, evoke impotent - legislation and vain “decisions.” Cities swallow and digest their - suburbs. There are such things as guilds of authors; tramps devastate - in organized bodies, and there has been even a congress of religions.</p> - - <p>In the larger politics we observe the same tendency to aggregation; - everywhere the unit of control is enlarging. In the Western Hemisphere - we have had Pan-American congresses and seen the genesis of the - Dominion of Canada. The United States have set up, and must henceforth - maintain, what is virtually a protectorate of American Republics—a - policy which commits us to their defense in every dispute with a - European power, gives<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span> us a living interest in all their affairs and - makes every square foot of South America in some sense United States - territory.</p> - - <p>Beyond the Atlantic it is the same. The entire continent of Africa is - being parted among a few European nations already swollen to enormous - growth by vast accretions of colonial dominion. And all over the world - colonial federation is in the air. In Europe itself states are drawn - together into kingdoms, kingdoms into empires. United Italy and United - Germany are conspicuous and significant examples. Whether in the Other - World a movement is afoot to establish Greater Heaven by annexing Hell - neither the celestial ambassadors have informed us from the pulpit, nor - the infernal from the tribune.</p> - - <p>Multiplication of international “conventions” and “treaties” is one - of the most striking of contemporary political phenomena. They are a - minor species of international federation, attesting and perpetuating a - community of interest which statesmen no longer venture to ignore. By - some hopeful spirits they are regarded as preliminary committee-work - of Tennyson’s “Parliament of Man.” International arbitration is a - blind step in the same direction, profitable chiefly as evidence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span> of - the general trend. The set of the currents of human interests is from - all points of the compass toward fewer and fewer nuclei of control. We - may dislike the direction—may clamor against the current that seems to - be affecting a particular interest, but we can neither stay nor turn - it. We may utter (from the pocket) our disrelish of the “trust,” the - “combine,” the “monopoly”; they are phases of the movement and we shall - shriek in vain.</p> - - <p>A few of the public advantages of combinations in production may be - mentioned. Economy is the most obvious. A syndicate or trust requires - just as many miners to dig a million tons of coal, for example, as a - dozen independent companies did; but it does not require nearly so - many salaried officers, nor nearly so many expensive offices. The man - who is in danger of “losing his place” is not the laborer, yet it is - the laborers who are loudest in their wail. A little reflection will - suggest many other ways in which economy of production is served by - combination; but deeper reflection, with some knowledge of commercial - phenomena, is required to make it clear that economy of production - benefits anybody but the producer. It is of some potential advantage, - at least, to the consumer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span> that the producer is able, without - bankruptcy, to lower the price of the product if Heaven should put it - into his heart to do so.</p> - - <p>Stability of employment is promoted by combination of capital. A single - concern employing ten thousand workmen will not hold them subject to - the whims and caprices of a single mind conscious of its ability to - replace them, as is the case with a man employing only a dozen. To a - rich corporation carrying on a large business a strike means a great - loss; to a score of small concerns it means a comparatively small loss - each, and is incurred with a light heart. Labor may be very sure of - having its demands attentively considered by those who cannot afford to - be a day without it.</p> - - <p>A great part of the clamor against trusts is the honest expression - of a belief (promoted by many writers on political economy) that in - commercial matters the only influence concerned in reduction of price - is competition. Nearly all workingmen are more or less discontented - with the “competitive system” in industrial affairs, but few have - learned to challenge its benignity in trade. Competition is, in fact, - only one of the several forces concerned in cheapening commodities - and, generally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span> speaking, not by any means the most considerable. It - requires only a brief experience in producing and selling to convince - an intelligent man that his prosperity is to be found in the large - sales of his product that come of low prices. Having control of his - market and a free hand in the management of his business such a man - studies to reduce his selling price to the lowest possible point. An - enlightened selfishness moves him to undersell himself whenever he can, - as if he were his own competitor.</p> - - <p>Not all men managing large commercial affairs are intelligent. Some - of the trusts are organized and conducted with a view to enhancing - rather than reducing prices; but these are bound to fail. By tempting - the small concerns to remain in or re-enter the field, the trust cuts - its own throat. Its primary purpose is to “crush out” the independent - “small dealer,” and this it can do in only one way—lure away his - customers by underselling him. If consumers really think that is so - wicked a thing to do they have the remedy in their own hands. Let them - refuse to leave the small dealer, and continue to pay him the higher - price. This course would entail a bit of sacrifice, maybe, but it would - have the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span> merit of freedom from cant and hypocrisy. I know of nothing - more ludicrous than the spectacle of these solemn consumers appealing - to the law and public opinion to avenge upon the trusts the injuries of - themselves and the small dealer—they having no injuries to avenge and - the small dealer only such as themselves have inflicted by assisting - the trusts to pluck him. The trust is condemned when it puts up prices, - for that harms the consumer; it is condemned when it puts them down, - for that harms the small dealer. In either case, both consumer and - small dealer make common cause against the enemy that can harm neither - without helping the other. If the history of human folly shows anything - more absurd surely the historian must have been Rabelais, “laughing - sardonically in his easy chair.”</p> - - <p>The trusts, it is feared, will become too rich and powerful to be - controlled. I do not think so. The reason that some of them already - defy the power of the states is that, being so few, they have not until - now attracted the serious attention of legislatures. And even now our - anti-trust legislation is more concerned with the impossible task of - abolition and prevention than with the practicable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span> one of regulation. - When we have learned by blundering what we can not do we shall easily - enough learn what we can do, and find it quite sufficient. Governmental - ownership and governmental control are what we are coming to by leaps - and bounds; and with the industries and trade of the country in fewer - hands the task of regulating them will be greatly simplified, for it is - easier to manage one defendant in a single jurisdiction than many in a - hundred.</p> - - <p>But, it will be asked, is this to become a nation of employees working - for a few hundreds of taskmasters? Not at all. The spirited and - provident employee can become his own employer and the employer of - others by investing his savings in the stock of a trust. The greater - its gains, the greater will be his share of them. The “crushed out” - small dealer, too, can recoup himself by becoming a part of what - crushed him out. Naturally the tendency of the trusts will be to “work - the stock market,” to “put up jobs” on the small investors, and so - forth. Prevention of that sort of thing is a legitimate purpose for - legislation, and promises better results than “drastic” measures to - destroy the trusts themselves. To do the latter the laws<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span> would have - to be drawn so as to forbid any commercial enterprise requiring more - capital than its manager could himself supply. That would be a strange - law which should undertake to fix the amount of capital to be combined - under one management, or limit the number of persons permitted to - supply it; yet nothing less “drastic” will “down the trusts.” And - that would not, for it would be unconstitutional in every state of - the Union. As a contribution to the literature of humor it would be - slightly better than an apothegm by Josh Billings, but distinctly - inferior to that Northwestern statute making it a felony to conduct - a “department store”—every country store being of that felonious - character.</p> - - <p>It is not, perhaps, too late to explain that in these remarks the word - “trust” is used in the popular sense, meaning a large aggregation of - capital by combination of several concerns under one management. It is - my high privilege to know a better word for it, but in deference to - those who do most of the talking on this engaging theme I assent to - their kind of English.</p> - - <p>1899.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span> - <h3 id="POVERTY_CRIME_AND_VICE">POVERTY, CRIME AND VICE</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">ANDREW CARNEGIE once said in an address to a young men’s Bible class:</p> - - <p>“The cry goes up to abolish poverty, but it will indeed be a sad day - when poverty is no longer with us. Where will your inventor, your - artist, your philanthropist, your reformer, in fact, anybody of note, - come from then? They all come from the ranks of the poor. God does not - call his great men from the ranks of the rich.”</p> - - <p>That is not altogether true. The notable men do not all come from the - ranks of the poor, though Mr. Carnegie does, and that gives him the - right to point out the sweet “uses of adversity,” as did Shakspeare and - many others. The rich supply their quota of men naturally great, but - through lack of a sufficiently sharp incentive many of these give us - less than the best that is in them. When<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span> God is giving out genius he - does not study the assessment rolls.</p> - - <p>As to the rest, Mr. Carnegie is quite right. A world without poverty - would be a world of incapables. Poverty may be due to one or more of - many causes, but in a large, general way it is Nature’s punishment for - incapacity and improvidence. Paraphrasing the poet, we may say that - some are born poor, some achieve poverty, and some have poverty thrust - upon them—“by the wicked rich,” quoth the demagogue. Dear, delicious, - old demagogue!—whatever should we do if all were too rich to support - him, and his voice were heard no more in the land?</p> - - <p>Frequently a curse to the individual, poverty is a blessing to the - race, not only because by effacing the unfit (Heaven rest them!) it - aids in the survival of the fit; not only because it is a school of - fortitude, industry, perseverance, ingenuity, and many another virtue; - but because it directly begets such warm and elevating sentiments as - compassion, generosity, self-denial, thoughtfulness for others—in a - word, altruism. It does not beget enough of all this, but think what we - should be with none of it! If there were no helplessness there would - be no helpfulness. That<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span> pity is akin to love is sufficiently familiar - to the ear, but how profound a truth it is no one seems to suspect. - Why, pity is the sole origin of love. We love our children, not because - they are ours, but because they are helpless: they need our tenderness - and care, as do our domestic animals and our pets. Man loves woman - because she is weak; woman loves man, not because he is strong, but - because, for all his strength, he is needy; he needs <i>her</i>. Minor - affections and good will have a similar origin. Friendship came of - mutual protection and assistance. Hospitality is vestigial; primarily - it was compassion for the wayfarer, the homeless, the hungry. If among - our “rude forefathers” none had needed food and shelter, we should have - to-day no “entertaining,” no social pleasures of any kind.</p> - - <p>Poverty is one kind of helplessness. It is an appeal to “what we have - the likest God within the soul.” In its relief we are made acquainted - with ingratitude. Ingratitude, like spanking, or ridicule, or - disappointment in love, hurts without harming. It is a bitter tonic, - but wholesome and by habit may, doubtless, become agreeable. This, - therefore, is how we demonstrate one of the advantages of poverty: - Without poverty there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span> could be no benevolence; without benevolence, no - ingratitude—whereby human nature would lack its supreme credential.</p> - - <p>I go further than Mr. Carnegie; not only do I think poverty necessary - to progress and civilization, but I am persuaded that crime, too, is - indispensable to the moral and material welfare of the race. In the - ever needful effort to limit and suppress it; in the immemorial and - incessant war between the good and the evil forces of this world; - in the constant vigilance necessary to the security of life and - property; in the strenuous task of safe-guarding the young, the weak - and the unfortunate against the cruelty and rapacity ever alurk and - alert to prey upon them—in all these forms of the struggle for our - racial existence are generated and developed such higher virtues - and capabilities as we have. A country without crime would breed a - population without sense. In a few generations of security its people - would suffer a great annual mortality by falling over their feet. They - would be devoured by their dogs and enslaved by their cows.</p> - - <p>Poverty and crime are teachers in Nature’s great training school. - Does it follow that we should cease to resist them—should encourage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span> - and promote them? Not at all; their best beneficence is found in our - struggle to suppress, overcome or evade them. The hope of eventual - success is itself a spiritual good of no mean magnitude. Let all the - chaplains of our forces encourage and hope and pray for that success; - but for my part, if I thought victory imminent or possible, I should - run away.</p> - - <p>Some Chicago millionaires once set afoot a giant scheme for settling - the slum population of our great cities on farms. This was a project - foredoomed to failure: one might as well attempt to colonize on the - hills the fishes of the sea. The experiment of taking the slumfolk - from the slums and making them agriculturists has been tried again and - again, always with the best intention, always with the worst result: - in a few years all are back again in the congenial slums. Of course it - ought not to be that way; these unfortunate persons ought not to have - inherited from countless generations of urban ancestors the tastes, - feelings and capacities binding them to their mode of life as strongly - as the children of prosperity are bound to theirs. The mysterious - suasion of their environment ought not to exert its incessant, - irresistible pull. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span> call of the slum should sound through their - very dreams with a less iron authority. If with our superior wisdom we - had made this world—you and I—men and women of all degrees would turn - their faces ever to the light, and the line of least resistance would - lead always upward. Their tastes and their instincts would never war - with their interests, and the longer one had remained in bondage to the - taskmasters of Egypt the more eagerly one would seek the Promised Land, - the more contentedly dwell in it. In the world as we have it matters - are differently ordered. The way to help the slumfolk is to improve the - slums; not enough to drive them out—there should be no worse places for - them to go to; just enough to give them a not altogether intolerable - prosperity where they are. Earth has no more hopeless being than a - renovated slum-dweller, uncongenially prosperous and inappropriately clean.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>That there is in this country a deep-seated and growing distrust - of the rich by the poor is a truth which every right-headed and - right-hearted man is compelled to perceive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span> and deplore. That many of - the rich have thoughtlessly and selfishly done much to provoke it is - equally obvious and equally deplorable; but largely, I think, it is - due to the pernicious teachings of those of both classes who find a - profit in promoting it. For neither the rich nor the poor constitute - a brotherhood bound by the ties of a common interest; and on the - whole, it is well that they do not, for loyalty in defense is usually - associated with loyalty in aggression, and those accustomed to stand - together for their rights too frequently think that the best foothold - is found upon the rights of those opposing them. Not all the rich are - men of prey, but to those who are, no quarry is more alluring than the - other rich, not only in the way of direct spoliation in business, but - by catching the pennies of the applauding poor through that kind of - apostasy that poses as superior virtue.</p> - - <p>A great part of the sullen animosity of poverty to wealth is - undoubtedly the product of mere envy, one of the black elements of - human nature whose strength and activity are commonly underestimated, - even by the most discerning observers, which of all modern pessimists, - Schopenhauer seems most clearly to have perceived. Hatred of the - wealthy by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span> the poor, of the great by the obscure, of the gifted by - the dull, is so admirably disguised by the servility with which it is - not inconsistent, so generally concealed through consciousness of its - disgraceful character, as to have escaped right appraisement by all but - the most penetrating understandings.</p> - - <p>In producing this antipathy of class to class many other factors are - concerned, among them the notion, carefully fostered by demagogues, - that, naturally and without reference to personal worth, the rich - man despises the poor man. The fact that most of our rich men were - once poor is permitted to cut no figure in the matter; as is the fact - that annually in this country more than one hundred million dollars - are given away by the rich in merely those benefactions large enough - to attract public attention. “Not so very much,” says the demagogue, - “considering how many of them there are.” But when engaged in showing - how large a proportion of the country’s wealth is owned by how few - persons, he sings another song.</p> - - <p>The hatred is not mutual; the wealthy do not dislike and despise their - less fortunate, less capable, less thrifty, lucky, enterprising or - ambitious fellow-men. The element of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span> envy is not present to feed the - rancor. Nor is there any profit in the business of kindling and keeping - alight the fires of hostility to the poor; the demagogue has among the - rich no professional antagonist practising <i>his</i> methods.</p> - - <p>True, the wealthy do, as a rule, hold themselves aloof from the poor; - even usually from those with whom they associated before their days - of prosperity; sometimes from their own less prosperous relatives. - There are several reasons; the inexperienced “capitalist” who suspects - that none of them is valid can try his luck at making no change in - his associations. He will be wiser after a while, but will have fewer - friends and less ready money. It will be more economical to learn from - some one who has prospered before him—even from a person known to have - merely a fair salary and not known to have any dependents.</p> - - <p>Doubtless “colossal” fortunes have their disadvantages, chiefly, - I think, to those in possession; but as a general proposition, - money-making may safely be permitted, for there is no way under the sun - to get any good out of money except by parting with it. One may pay - it to a tradesman for goods; the tradesman<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span> pays it to another, but - eventually it goes to the man that makes the goods, the workman. Or - one may lend it on interest, the borrower lending it again at a higher - interest, or investing it; it may pass through a dozen hands, but the - ultimate man pays it out for labor—the sole purpose and meaning of the - entire series of transactions. All the money in the world, except the - small part hoarded by misers or lost, is paid out for labor, flows back - in converging streams as capital, and is again distributed in wages. - Does the socialist know this? He knows nothing; he learned it from Karl - Marx and Upton Sinclair. The man who, making money in his own country, - spends it in another, may or may not be mischievous to his countrymen; - that depends on what he buys. To his race he is harmless and beneficial.</p> - - <p>On the whole, the unfortunate rich man, cowering as a prisoner in the - dock before the austere tribunal of public opinion, has a pretty good - defense if he only knew it. As he seems imperfectly provided with - counsel and is not saying much himself, it would be only just for the - court to enter a plea of not guilty for him, and to hear a little - more testimony than that so abundantly proffered by swift and willing - witnesses for the prosecution.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span></p> - - <h4>III</h4> - - <p>Abolition of poverty is not all that our reformers propose—they - would abolish all that is disagreeable. Let us suppose them to have - accomplished their amiable purposes. We have, then, a country in which - are no poverty, no contention, no tyranny or oppression, no peril to - life or limb, no disease—and so forth. How delightful! What a good - and happy people! Alas, no! With poverty have vanished benevolence, - providence, and the foresight which, born of the fear of individual - want, stands guard at a thousand gates to defend the general good. The - charitable impulse is dead in every breast, and gratitude, atrophied by - disuse, has no longer a place among human sentiments and emotions. With - no more fighting among ourselves we have lost the power of resentment - and resistance: a car-load of Mexicans or a shipful of Japanese can - invade our fool’s paradise and enslave us, as the Spaniards overran - Peru and the British subdued India. (Hailers of “the dawn of the new - era” will, I trust, provide that it dawn everywhere at once or here - last of all.) Having no oppression to resist and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span> no suffering to - experience, we no longer need the courage to defy, nor the fortitude - to endure. Heroism is a failing memory and magnanimity a dream of - the past; for not only are the virtues known by contrast with the - vices, they spring from the same seed, grow in the same soil, ripen - in the same sunshine, and perish in the same frost. A fine race of - mollycoddles we should be without our sins and sufferings! In a world - without evils there would be one supreme evil—existence.</p> - - <p>We need not fear any such condition. Progress is infected with the - germs of reversion; on the grave of the civilization of to-day will - squat the barbarian of to-morrow, “with a glory in his bosom” that - will transfigure him the day after. The alternation is one that we can - neither hasten nor retard, for our success baffles us. If, for example, - we could abolish war, disease and famine, the race would multiply to - the point of “standing room only”—a condition prophesying war, disease - and famine. Wherefore the wisest prayer is this: “O Lord, make thy - servant strong to fight and impotent to prevail.”</p> - - <p>1900.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span> - <h3 id="DECADENCE_OF_THE_AMERICAN_FOOT">DECADENCE OF THE AMERICAN FOOT</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE ultimate destiny of the American foot is a subject which, through - an enlightened selfishness, must more and more engage the interest - of the American head and the sympathies of the American heart. Even - apart from the question of its final fate and place in the scheme of - things, the human foot, American and foreign, has many features of - peculiar interest. In the singular complexity of its structure, closely - (and as the scientists affirm, significantly) resembling that of the - hand, lurk possibilities of controversy sufficient in themselves to - tempt attention and invite research. In truth this honorable member’s - framework may be said to consist mainly of bones of contention. - Religion affirms of its arched instep, its flexible toes, its padded - sole, and the other peculiarities of its intricate construction an - obvious adaptability of means to an end: proof positive of intelligent - design, and therefore of an intelligent Designer—<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span> <i>vide</i> - Whateley, <i>passim</i>. Science coldly replies by pointing to the - serviceable foot of the bear, which lacks the arched instep, and of the - horse, which is without the flexible toes, or toes of any kind, and - in which no use is made of the padded sole. To the simple purposes to - which the human foot is applied, says the scientist, its complexity is - in no sense nor degree contributory; it would perform all its offices - equally well if it were a hoof. All the distinguishing features of - the human foot, as contrasted with that, for example, of the horse or - sheep, he avers to be such, variously modified by long and regrettable - disuse, as fit animals for climbing trees and dwelling in the branches. - The human foot is, in short, according to this view of the matter, - nothing but an expurgated edition of that of the monkey, and a standing - evidence of our descent from that tree-dwelling philosopher.</p> - - <p>Into this controversy I do not purpose to enter; I prefer to stand afar - off and suggest a compromise, whereby each contentionary may retain, - with the other’s assent, all that essential part of his belief which is - precious to his mind and heart. Let the scientist surrender so much of - his theory as is incompatible with the assumption of creative design, - the religionist<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span> so much of his faith as traverses the assertion of - arboreal activity. The new theory, taking broad enough ground for all - to stand upon, may be formulated somewhat as follows: The human foot as - we have it was designed by an intelligent Power in order to fit mankind - for an arboreal future.</p> - - <p>Than this nothing could be fairer. It seems acceptable, and I hope - it will be accepted by persons of every shade of religious faith and - scientific conviction. It leaves the Christian his Adam, the Darwinian - his Ape. Revealed in it, as in a magic crystal, we discern the engaging - truth that the hope of Heaven and the belief in a more advanced - stage of evolution are virtually the same thing—each in its way a - prophecy of another and higher life. That we shall enjoy that superior - existence in the flesh is a happiness that is but slightly impaired - by the circumstance that it will be in the flesh of Posterity. This - is a consideration indeed, that does not at all affect the interest - of the evolutionist, for he never has had any expectations; and to - the religious person there is a peculiar joy inhering in renunciation - of his individual hope for the assurance of a racial advantage. In - contemplation of Posterity frolicking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span> blithely in its leafy and breezy - environment, in shoeless nimbleness arboreally gay, every good soul - will accept mortality without a pang.</p> - - <p>But I have strayed a long way from the question of the ultimate destiny - of the American foot. Be it now confessed in all candor that the - compromise theory above propounded has a most dubious relevancy to that - subject; for in the sylvan high-jinks of the Coming Man the Coming - American will probably have no part. While the human foot in general - shows no evidence of ever having been employed in its legitimate duty - and future function; while Science is not justified in affirming its - degeneracy from long disuse in climbing; nothing is more certain than - that the American variety of it is doomed to a fatal atrophy from - disuse in walking. In cities the multiplication of street-car lines - points unmistakably to a time in the near future when there will be one - or more in every street, with possibly a moving sidewalk, supplied with - upholstered seats, on each side of the way. The universal use of the - “elevator” in public and private buildings, including dwellings, will - indubitably be followed by that of tubes for shooting the inmates out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span> - of the house and sucking the outmates in. With the general adoption of - the traveling carpet, carrying chairs among the several rooms, the last - vestigial excuse for the American urban foot will have been effaced, - and that member will not lag superfluous on the stage, but in obedience - to Nature’s mandate step down and out forthwith.</p> - - <p>In the rural districts it will doubtless have a longer lease of - life, owing partly to the conservative character of the people, - the difficulty of hoeing corn while sitting, the saving badness of - the roads—inhibiting vehicular “traffic” by all but the hardiest - adventurers—and the intricacy of the trails, which forbids the general - use of the steam bicycle in driving home the cows.</p> - - <p>Eventually these disabilities will be overcome by American ingenuity, - and the rural foot having no longer a function in the physical economy, - will be absorbed into the character. Its relegation, with that of its - urban congenitor, to Nature’s waste-dump in the tenebrous realm of - things that are no more will mark the dawn of a new era in our life - and be followed by radical and profound changes, particularly in the - tactical movements of infantry.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> - <h3 id="THE_CLOTHING_OF_GHOSTS">THE CLOTHING OF GHOSTS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">BELIEF in ghosts and apparitions is general, almost universal; possibly - it is shared by the ghosts themselves. We are told that this wide - distribution of the faith and its persistence through the ages are - powerful evidences of its truth. As to that, I do not remember to have - heard the basis of the argument frankly stated; it can be nothing - else than that whatever is generally and long believed is true, - for of course there can be nothing in the particular belief under - consideration making it peculiarly demonstrable by counting noses. The - world has more Buddhists than Christians. Is Buddhism therefore the - truer religion? Before the day of Galileo there was a general though - not quite universal conviction that the earth was a motionless body, - the sun passing around it daily. That was a matter in which “the united - testimony of mankind” ought to have counted for more than it should in - the matter of ghosts, for all can observe the earth and sun, but not - many profess to see ghosts,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span> and no one holds that the circumstances - in which they are seen are favorable to calm and critical observation. - Ghosts are notoriously addicted to the habit of evasion; Heine says - that it is because they are afraid of us. “The united testimony of - mankind” has a notable knack at establishing only one thing—the - incredibility of the witnesses.</p> - - <p>If the ghosts care to prove their existence as objective phenomena - they are unfortunate in always discovering themselves to inaccurate - observers, to say nothing of the bad luck of frightening them into - fits. That the seers of ghosts are inaccurate observers, and therefore - incredible witnesses, is clear from their own stories. Who ever heard - of a naked ghost? The apparition is always said to present himself - (as he certainly should) properly clothed, either “in his habit as - he lived” or in the apparel of the grave. Herein the witness must be - at fault: whatever power of apparition after dissolution may inhere - in mortal flesh and blood, we can hardly be expected to believe - that cotton, silk, wool and linen have the same mysterious gift. If - textile fabrics had that property they would sometimes manifest it - independently, one would think—would “materialize” visibly without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span> a - ghost inside, a greatly simpler apparition than “the grin without the cat.”</p> - - <p>Ask any proponent of ghosts if he think that the products of the loom - can “revisit the glimpses of the moon” after they have duly decayed, - or, while still with us, can show themselves in a place where they - are not. If he have no suspicion, poor man, of the trap set for him, - he will pronounce the thing impossible and absurd, thereby condemning - himself out of his own mouth; for assuredly such powers in these - material things are necessary to the garmenting of spooks.</p> - - <p>Now, by the law <i>falsus in uno falsus in omnibus</i> we are compelled - to reject all the ghost stories that have ever been seriously told. - If the observer (let him be credited with the best intentions) has - observed so badly as to think he saw what he did not see, and could - not have seen, in one particular, to what credence is he entitled with - regard to another? His error in the matter of the “long white robe” or - other garment where no long white robe or other garment could be puts - him out of court altogether. Resurrection of woolen, linen, silk, fur, - lace, feathers, hooks and eyes, buttons, hatpins and the like—well, - really, that is going far.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span></p> - - <p>No, we draw the line at clothing. The materialized spook appealing to - our senses for recognition of his ghostly character must authenticate - himself otherwise than by familiar and remembered habiliments. He must - be credentialed by nudity—and that regardless of temperature or who - may happen to be present. Nay, it is to be feared that he must eschew - his hair, as well as his habiliments, and “swim into our ken” utterly - bald; for the scientists tell us with becoming solemnity that hair is a - purely vegetable growth and no essential part of us. If he deem these - to be hard conditions he is at liberty to remain on his reservation and - try to endow us with a terrifying sense of himself by other means.</p> - - <p>In brief, the conditions under which the ghost must appear in order to - command the faith of an enlightened world are so onerous that he may - prefer to remain away—to the unspeakable impoverishment of letters and art.</p> - - <p>1902.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span> - <h3 id="SOME_ASPECTS_OF_EDUCATION">SOME ASPECTS OF EDUCATION</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">WHEN Richard Olney was Secretary of State, “Ouida” (who had nothing to - do with the matter) addressed to him a remonstrance against exclusion - of illiterate immigrants, explaining that the analphabets in her - employ were better servants than those who could read. “I have had for - twenty years,” she said, “an old man (what is called ‘the odd man’ - in England), and he can be sent with fifty commissions to purchase - objects. Detail him orally and he will execute these commissions with - no single error.” Illiteracy may be a valuable quality in a servant, - but we are not taking in immigrants with a view to the betterment of - our domestic service; it may qualify a man to do errands, but as a help - to him in reading a ballot it does not amount to much. As a claim to - high political preferment it is distinctly less valid than a bald head - and a knack at gabble.</p> - - <p>Nevertheless, “Ouida” was not altogether<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span> wrong. A man is not made - intelligent by mere ability to read and write: his little learning - is a dangerous thing to himself and to his country. The only reading - that such men do is of the most degrading kind: it debases them, mind - and heart, gives them a false estimate of their worth, magnifies - their woes, and fills them with a sense of their numbers and their - power. Eventually they “rise” and have to be shot. Or they succeed, - and having first put to death the gifted rascals who incited and led - them, they set up a Government of Unreason which they lack the sense - to maintain, and their last state is no better than their first. That - is the dull, dreary old sequence of events, so familiar to the student - of history. That is the beaten path leading back to its beginning, - which must be traveled again and again without a break in the monotony - of the march. That is Progress—the brute revolt of the ignorant mass, - their resubjection by the intelligent few; nowhere justice, nowhere - righteousness, everywhere and always force, greed, selfishness and sin. - That is the universal struggle—sometimes sluggish, sometimes turbulent, - always without an outcome and with no hope of one. Along that hideous - path our American free feet are merrily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span> keeping time to the beating of - hearts which, swelling to-day with the pride of progress, will shrink - to-morrow with the dread of doom.</p> - - <p>What then?—is popular education mischievous? Popular education is good - for many things; it is not good for the stability of states. Whatever - its advantages, it has this disadvantage: it produces “industrial - discontent”; and industrial discontent is the first visible symptom of - national wreck. Prate as we will of the “dignity of labor,” we convince - no one that labor is anything other than a hard, imperious necessity, - to be avoided if possible. Education promises avoidance—a promise which - to the mass of workers is not, and can not be, kept. It brings to Labor - a bitter disappointment which in time is transmuted into political - mischief. The only man that labors with a song in his heart is he - that knows nothing but to labor. Give him education—enlarge by ever - so little the scope of his thought—make him permeable to a sense of - the pleasures of life and his own privations, and you set up a quarrel - between him and his condition. He may remain in his lowly station, - but that will be because he cannot get out of it. He may continue to - perform his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span> hard and hateful work, but he will no longer perform it - cheerfully and well.</p> - - <p>What is the remedy?—educate him still more? Then he will no longer - perform it at all—he will die first! Those of us who have tried both - may assure him that head-work is harder than hand-work, that it takes - more out of one, that its rewards give no greater happiness; he - observes that none of us renounces it for the other kind. He does not - believe us, and it would not affect him if he did.</p> - - <p>What, as a matter of fact, is the public advantage of even that higher - education which we tax ourselves more and more to make general? Look at - our overcrowded professions, whose “ethics” and practices grow worse - and worse from increasing competition. Not one of them is any longer - a really “honorable” profession. Look at the monstrous overgrowth - of our cities, those congested brains of the nation. They draw to - themselves all the output of the colleges and the universities, and as - much of that of the country schools as can get a precarious foothold - and live—God knows how—in hope to “better its condition.” A pretty - picture, truly: a population roughly divisible into a conscienceless - crowd of brain-workers who have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> so “bettered their condition” as to - live by prey; a sullen multitude of manual laborers blowing the coals - of discontent and plotting a universal overthrow. Above the one perch - the primping monkeys of “society,” chattering in meaningless glee; - below the other the brute tramp welters in his grime. And with it - all a national wealth that amazes the world and profits nobody—the - country’s wonder, pride and curse. Still we go on with a maniacal hope, - adding school to school, college to college, university to university, - and—unconscious provision for their product—almshouses, asylums and - prisons in prodigal abundance.</p> - - <p>I am far from affirming that the industrial discontent which for more - than a half century has been an augmenting menace to our national life, - has its sole origin in popular education conjoined with the higher - education of too many. For any social phenomenon there is no lack of - causes. For this there are, among others, two of special importance. - First, the duplication of the labor force by that female competition - which, beginning its displacements pretty well up in the scale, drives - the unlucky male to lower and lower levels, until forced out of the - lowest by invasion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span> by his own sex from higher ones, he finds no rest - for the sole of his foot and takes to the road, an irreclaimable tramp. - Second, the amazing multiplication of “labor-saving” machinery, whose - disadvantages are swift, and advantages slow—which throws men out of - work, who starve while awaiting restitution in the lower price of its - products, many of which, even when cheap, are imperfectly edible. So I - do not say that the schoolmaster is the only pestilence that walketh - at noon-day. But I do say—and one with half an eye can observe it for - himself and in his own person—that learning in any degree indisposes to - manual toil in some degree; that the scholar will not labor musclewise - if he can help it, nor with a contented spirit when he can not help it.</p> - - <p>In his Founders’ Day address at Stanford University, the President of - another university said:</p> - - <blockquote> - <p>Usually an education will pay, but even when the professions are - crowded and he [the college man] can find no place he is still the - better for it if he will but accept some lower occupation in life.</p> - </blockquote> - - <p>But “usually” he will not; he will wedge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span> himself into some - “profession,” whether he can make an honest living in it or not. And - failing to make an honest living, he will make a living that is not - honest. In the service of his belly and his back, he will resort to - all manner of shady and unprofessional conduct. His competition forces - other weak members of his profession into the same crooked courses, - to which the public becomes accustomed and indifferent. What was - once unprofessional becomes professional and respectable; with every - accession of new men, the standard of allowable conduct falls lower, - and to-day the learned professions are little more than organized - conspiracies to plunder.</p> - - <p>The distinguished author of the address is not without dreams of - educational expansion. He says:</p> - - <blockquote> - <p>Let the common people flock by hundreds of thousands to the higher - institutions of learning; then the whole community will be lifted - to a happier level.</p> - </blockquote> - - <p>As in Germany, where men of university education are as thick as flies - and the fields are tilled by women. Then educate the women and the - field must be tilled by monkeys. Treading that “happier level” of - German<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span> civilization are hundreds of thousands of scholars, becomingly - stoop-shouldered and fitly be-spectacled, whom a day’s wage of an - American farm hand would support in unaccustomed luxury for a week. - But not a mother’s son of them will perform manual labor if he can - help it. Nor will any of the corresponding class here or elsewhere. To - educate “the man with a hoe” is to divorce him from his hoe—a prompt - and irrevocable separation. A good deal of hoeing is needful in this - world, and not so much lawing and physicking and preaching and writing - and painting and the rest of it.</p> - - <p>If I were dictator I would abolish every “institution of learning” - above the grammar schools, excepting one or two universities. I would - make a university in fact, as well as in name. It should not only - turn out the finest scholars in the world, but it should be a place - of original research in a sense that none of our universities now is. - From the grammar school to its portal the student should make his - upward way unaided—enough would accomplish the feat and thereby prove - their fitness; and those who failed would not be greatly harmed by the - effort. I am not quite sure if I should limit the number of students<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span> - by law; probably that could best be done by the rigor of examinations. - Under my dictatorship we would not be a community of “college - graduates,” mostly men of prey, but neither should we be so top-heavy - that in some social convulsion the country would “turn turtle” and - stand on its head.</p> - - <p>1897.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span> - <h3 id="THE_REIGN_OF_THE_RING">THE REIGN OF THE RING</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE statement is made on what seems as good authority as in such a - matter can be cited that in Europe the custom of wearing finger-rings - is “going out”—to “come in” again, doubtless, with renewed vitality. - It is hardly to be expected that it will suffer a permanent extinction - while human character remains what it is; and the acutest observer can - discern no symptoms of change in that. The original impulse moving - the gentlemen and ladies of the Stone Age to circumclude their untidy - digits with annular sections of the shinbones of their vanquished - foemen while awaiting a knowledge of the metals is apparently not - nearly exhausted, and we are far less likely to see the end of it than - it is to see the end of us. It is more probable, indeed, that the - nose-ring will return to bless us than that the finger-ring will add - itself to the melancholy list of good things gone before.</p> - - <p>Amongst the several tribes of our species<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span> the habit of encircling - the human finger with something not contemplated in the original - design of that variously useful member is almost universal, and it - so far antedates history and tradition that by another sort of lying - than either it has been outfitted with a divine origin. In ancient - Egypt it was ascribed to Osiris, whose priests were distinguished - from meaner mortals by finger-rings of a peculiar and mystical - design, having a profound significance all the more impressive by - reason of its impenetrability to conjecture. Perchol, however, has an - ingenious theory that it was intended to puzzle the Egyptologist of - the time-to-be; an instance of foresight which one can commend while - deploring the unworthy motive at the back of it.</p> - - <p>Amongst the ancient Jews rings were symbols of authority, as we see - in the case of Joseph, to whom the Pharaoh gave one when he made him - Governor; and this was a common use of rings in all antiquity. They - were credentials of ambassadors and messengers, and served in place - of written commissions, which, frequently it was impossible to give, - for the commissioning power could not write, and which would have - been ineffective, for most other persons could not read. In matters<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span> - of business the ring was a power-of-attorney. Its usefulness in this - way was suggested, doubtless, by the difficulty of imposture: written - authorization may easily be forged, but a ring can not well be obtained - from the finger of its owner without his consent.</p> - - <p>The attribution of magical and medicinal virtues to rings pervades - all ancient and mediæval story. Gyges, King of Lydia, had a ring by - which the wearer could become invisible—a result accomplishable, - though sometimes too tardily, by our modern plan of going away. One - of the Kings of Lombardy had a ring which told him in what direction - to travel. It may have contained a compass, though to that theory - is opposed the objection that he antedated the invention of that - instrument. But (I make the suggestion with humility) may not his have - been the compass afterward invented? Medicated rings were in popular - use in ancient Rome. An efficacious design for these, according to - Trallian, a physician of the fourth century, was Hercules strangling - the Nemæan lion. This, he assures us, is, if well engraved, a specific - for stomach-ache. Throughout mediæval Europe belief in the healing - power of certain rings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span> was widely diffused; but then, as now, persons - free from gross superstitions preferred to treat their disorders by - touching the relics of saints.</p> - - <p>Rings engraved with the names of the Magi were once in great medical - repute, but in 1674 a learned prelate threw discredit upon them by - showing that the true names were not known, being variously given as - Melchior, Balthasar and Jasper; Apellius, Amerus and Damascus; Ator, - Sator and Petratoras. As the author of <i>Ben-Hur</i> has given the - weight of his authority to the first three names, the healing-ring may - with some confidence be engraved with them and pushed back into its old - place in public esteem. But before risking any money in the manufacture - it would be prudent to test upon a few patients the accuracy of General - Wallace’s historical knowledge by administering the names of his choice - internally.</p> - - <p>A ring presented to Edward the Confessor cured epilepsy, and after - the death of the royal owner by another and hardier disease it was - preserved as a relic in Westminster Abbey. Rings which had been - blessed, or even touched, by the sovereign were for some centuries - considered worthy of a place in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span> British <i>materia medica</i>; - and such would doubtless command a high price to-day in the American - market—not to keep the purchaser in good health, but to make his - neighbors sick with envy.</p> - - <p>Of all rings possessing magical or medicinal virtues the toadstone ring - of our fathers was the most interesting. It was well known to those - ingenious naturalists that</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i8">the toad, ugly and venomous,</div> - <div class="i0">Wears yet a precious jewel in his head,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">as Shakspeare was at the trouble to point out. It was customary to set - this in a ring and wear it, for it had the useful property of changing - color and sweating when poison was about. As poison was one of the - commonest means by which our easy-going ancestors accomplished the end - of one another’s sojourn in this vale of tears a monitor of that kind - was extremely useful to have literally “on hand at meal-time.”</p> - - <p>Certain stones were once regarded as having maleficent properties and - were never set in rings. A chronicler relates that a certain knight in - one of the crusades possessed himself of a costly scimitar belonging to - a Saracen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span> whom he had slain, and became so expert in its use that he - discarded his own weapon and used the other. But from that time forth - he met with nothing but disaster and shame. It was discovered that in - fitting the scimitar with a cross-hilt, as Christian piety demanded, - the malicious armorer had substituted for one of the gems an emerald, - which by some secret process he had disguised. The malign stone and the - armorer’s head having been removed the prowess of the knight was again - effective and he rose to great distinction and honor. In the folk-lore - of some of the riparian peoples along the Danube the topaz was listed - as a peculiar possession of the Adversary of Souls. It was held that - if one could by force or fraud get a topaz ring upon an enemy’s finger - it would be impossible to remove it, and the victim would go, body and - soul, to the devil. Advancing enlightenment has effaced these silly - superstitions; we now know that the opal only is really malign.</p> - - <p>We have it on the authority of Shakspeare that at least Aldermen wore - thumb rings, for Falstaff avers that before he was blown up like a - bladder by sighing and grief he could have crept through one, being - “not an eagle’s talon in the waist.” If the custom had lived<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span> till our - time Aldermen would have been at considerable expense for thumb-rings, - for their fingers are all thumbs everywhere but in the public pocket. - As engagements and weddings subtend a pretty wide angle in the circle - of human life in modern times the ring is perhaps a more important - factor in the happiness of at least one-half the race than ever before; - and that half is the more conservative half; it and its customs are - not soon parted. Not that engagement rings and wedding rings are a new - thing under the sun: amongst several ancient peoples the wedding ring - was an institution of prime importance. The bride’s investiture with - that sign and symbol of wifehood was not merely in attestation of the - wedding; it was the wedding. Divorce consisted in pulling it off, and - that simple act—commonly performed by the husband—was not complicated - with any questions of counsel fees, alimony and custody of the children.</p> - - <p>The finger-ring will probably maintain its “ancient, solitary reign” - for some time yet. The custom of wearing it is too deeply rooted in - the nature of things, and the root has too many ramifications to be - lightly renounced by virtue of any royal rescript of the “queens of - fashion” in Paris, London or New York.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span> It is not a mere garden plant - growing loosely in the artificial top-soil of human vanity, but a - hardy perennial, having a firm hold in many substrata of character and - tradition, and eliciting nourishment from all. The finger-ring is on to stay.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span> - <h3 id="FIN_DE_SIECLE">FIN DE SIECLE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">AN end-of-the-century horse is doubtless pretty much the same as a - horse of another period, but is there not in literature, art, politics - and in intellectual and moral matters generally, an element, a spirit - peculiar to the time and not altogether discernible to observation—a - something which, not hitherto noted, or at least not so noticeable, - now “pervades and animates the whole?” It seems to me that there is. - Precisely what is its nature? That is not easy to answer; the thing is - felt rather than observed. It is subtle, elusive, addressing, perhaps, - only those sensibilities for whose needs of expression our English - vocabulary makes little provision. I should with some misgiving call - it the note of despair, or, more accurately, desperation. It sounds - through the tumult of our lives as the boatswain’s whistle penetrates - with a vibrant power the uproar of the storm—the singing and shouting - of the wind in the cordage, the hissing of the waves, the shock and - thunder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span> of their monstrous buffets as they burst against the ship. O - there’s a meaning in the phrase—a significance born of iteration. As - certain predictions by their power upon the imagination assist in their - own fulfilment, so this haunting phrase has made itself a meaning and - shaped the facts to fit it. In the twilight of the century we have - prophecies of the coming night, and see ghosts.</p> - - <p>We are all dominated by our imaginations and our views are creatures - of our viewpoints. To the ordinary mind the end of a century seems the - end of one of a series of stages of progress, arranged in straight-away - order, and impossible of prolongation. To turn the end of one line is - to go back and begin it all <i>de novo</i> on a parallel line—an end - of progress, a long leap to the rear, a slow and painful resumption. - Of course there is nothing in the facts to correspond to this fanciful - and fantastic notion, but it is none the less powerful for that. To - the person of that order of mind it undoubtedly seems that with the - final year of the century the race will have lost a century of some - advantage which he is not likely to see regained. He does not think - that—he thinks nothing at all about it—he merely feels so, and can not - even formulate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span> the feeling. Quite the same it colors his moods, his - character, his very manner of life and action. He has something of the - ghastly gaiety of the plague-smitten soldiers in the song, who drank - to those already dead and hurrahed for those about to die. The <i>fin - de siècle</i> spirit is fairly expressible by an intention to make the - most of a vanishing opportunity by doing something out of the common.</p> - - <p>Nearly everywhere we observe this spirit translating itself into acts - and phenomena. In religion it finds manifestation in repair of “creeds - outworn,” in acceptance of modern miracles, in pilgrimages, in strange - and futile attempts at unification—even in toleration. In politics it - has overspread the earth with anarchism, socialism, communism, woman - suffrage and actual antagonism between the sexes. Industrial affairs - show it in unnatural animosities and destructive struggles between - employers and employees, in wild aspirations for impossible advantages, - in resurrection of crude convictions and methods of antiquity. In - literature it has given us realism, in art impressionism, and in - both as much else that is false and extravagant as it is possible to - name. In morals it has gone to the length of denying the expedience - of morality. In all civilized<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span> countries crime is so augmenting, the - sociologists tell us, that national earnings will not much longer - be sufficient to support the machinery for its repression. Madness - and suicide are advancing “by leaps and bounds,” and wars were never - so needless and reasonless as now. Everywhere are a wild welter of - action and thought, a cutting loose from all that is conservative and - restraining, a “carnival of crime,” a reign of unreason.</p> - - <p>Not everywhere: superior to all this madness, tranquil in the midst of - it, and to some degree controlling it, stands Science, inaccessible - to its malign influence and unaffectable by the tumult. Why?—how? God - knows; I only perceive that the scientific mind has an imagination of - its own kind. To him who has been trained to accurate observation and - definite thought a century of years does not seem to have an end—it - is simply one hundred times round the sun; and at the last moment of - our <i>siècle</i> we shall be just where we have been a million times - before, under no different cosmic conditions. He is not impressed with - “the sadness of it,” feels no desperation—sees nothing in it. He keeps - his head—which, by the way, is worth keeping.</p> - - <p>1898.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span> - <h3 id="TIMOTHY_H_REARDEN">TIMOTHY H. REARDEN</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">IN the death of Judge Rearden the world experienced a loss that is - more likely adequately to be estimated in another generation than in - this. A lawyer dies and his practice passes to others. A judge falls - in harness, another is appointed or elected, and the business of the - court goes on as before, frequently better. But for the vacant place - of a scholar and man of letters there are no applicants. To him there - is no successor: neither the President has the appointing power nor - the people the power to elect. The vacancy is permanent, the loss - irreparable; something has gone out of the better and higher life of - the community which can not be replaced, and the void is the dead man’s - best monument, invisible but eternal. Other scholars and men of letters - will come forward in the new generation, but of none can it be said - that he carries forward on the same lines the work of the “vanished - hand,” nor declares exactly those truths of nature and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span> art that would - have been formulated by the “voice that is still.”</p> - - <p>In that elder education which was once esteemed the only needful - intellectual equipment of a gentleman, those attainments still - commonly, and perhaps preferably, denoted by the word “scholarship,” - Judge Rearden was probably without an equal on his side of the - continent. Except by his habit of historical and literary allusion—to - which he was perhaps somewhat over-addicted—and by that significant - something, so difficult to name, yet to the discerning few so obvious, - in the thought and speech of learned men, which is not altogether - breadth and reach of reason nor altogether subtlety of taste and - sentiment—in truth, is compatible with their opposites—except for these - indirect disclosures he seldom and to few indeed gave even a hint of - the enormous acquired wealth in the treasury of his mind. Graduated - from a second-rate college in Ohio with little but a knowledge of - Latin and Greek, a studious habit and a disposition so unworldly - that it might almost be called unearthly, he pursued his amassment - of knowledge with the unfailing diligence of an unfailing love, to - the end. He knew not only the classical languages and many of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span> - tongues of modern Europe, but their several dialects as well. To know - a language is nothing, but to know its literature from the beginning, - and to have incorporated its veritable essence and spirit into mind - and character—that is much; and that is what Rearden had done with - regard to all these tongues. Doubtless this is not the meat upon which - intellectual Cæsars feed; doubtless, too, he did not make that full - use of his attainments which the world approves as “practical,” and - at which he smiled in his odd, tolerant way, as one may smile at the - earnest work of a child making mud pies; yet his was not altogether a - barren pen. Of Bret Harte’s bright band of literary coadjutors on the - old <i>Overland Monthly</i> he was among the first and best, and at - several times, though irregularly and all too infrequently, he enriched - <i>The Californian</i> and other periodicals with noble contributions - in prose and verse. Among the former were essays on Petrarch and - Tennyson; the latter included a poem of no mean merit on the Charleston - earthquake, and another which he had intended to read before the George - H. Thomas Post of the Grand Army of the Republic, but was prevented by - his last illness. Read now in the solemn light that lies along<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span> his - path through the Valley of the Shadow, the initial stanza seems to have - a significance almost prophetic: - </p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Life’s fevered day declines; its purple twilight falling,</div> - <div class="i2">Draws lengthening shadows from the broken flanks;</div> - <div class="i0">And from the column’s head a viewless chief is calling:</div> - <div class="i2">“Guide right—close up the ranks.”</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>Some of his papers for the Chitchat Club could not easily be matched - by selections from the magazines and reviews, and if a collection were - made of the pieces that he loved to put out in that wasteful way we - should have a volume of notable reading, distinguished for a sharply - accented individuality of thought and style.</p> - - <p>For a number of years before his death Rearden was engaged in - constructing (the word writing here is inadequate) a work on Sappho, - which, as I understand the matter, was to be a kind of compendium of - all the little that is known and pretty nearly all the much that has - been conjectured and said of her. It was to be profusely illustrated by - master-hands, copiously annotated and enriched with variorum readings—a - book for bookworms. Of its fate I am not advised, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span> trust that none - of this labor of love may be lost. A work which for many years engaged - the hand and the heart of such a man can not, of whatever else it may - be devoid, lack that distinction which is to literature what it is to - character—its life, its glory and its crown.</p> - - <p>1892.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span> - <h3 id="THE_PASSING_OF_THE_HORSE">THE PASSING OF THE HORSE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">CERTAIN admirers of the useful, beautiful, dangerous and senseless - beast known to many of them as the “hoss” are promising the creature a - life of elegant leisure, with opportunities for mental culture which he - has not heretofore enjoyed. Universal use of the automobile in all its - actual and possible forms and for all practical purposes in the world’s - work and pleasure is to relieve the horse from his onerous service and - give him a life of ease “and a perpetual feast of nectared sweets.”</p> - - <p>The horse of the future is to do no work, have no cares, be immune to - the whip, the saddle, the harness and the unwelcome attentions of the - farrier. He is to toil not, neither spin, yet Nebuchadnezzar in all - his glory was not stabled and pastured as he is to be. In brief, the - automobile is going to make of this bad world a horse elysium, where - the tired brute can repose on beds of amaranth and moly, to the eminent - satisfaction of his body and his mind.</p> - - <p>There is reason to fear that all these hopes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span> will not come to - fruitage. It is not seen just why a generation of selfish and somewhat - preoccupied human beings who know not the horse as an animal of - utility should cherish him as a creature of merit. We have already - one pensioner on our bounty who does little that is useful in return - for his keep and an incalculable multitude of things which we would - prefer that he should not do if he could be persuaded to forego - them—the domestic dog, to wit. We are not likely to augment our burden - by addition of the obsolete horse. Those of us who, through stress of - necessity or the promptings of Paris, have tested our teeth upon him - know that he is not very good to eat; he will hardly be cultivated for - the table, like the otherwise inutile and altogether unhandsome pig. - The present vogue of the horse as a comestible, a viand, is without - the knowledge and assent of the consumer, but an abattoir having its - outlying corrals gorged with waiting horses would be an object of - public suspicion and constabular inquiry. As a provision against human - hunger the horse may be considered out of the running. Hard, indeed, - were the heart of the father who would regale the returning prodigal - with a fatted colt.</p> - - <p>There will be no horses in our “leisure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span> class,” for there will be no - horses. The species will be as effectually effaced by the automobile - as if it had run over them. If the new machine fulfills all the hopes - that now begin to cluster about it the man of the future will find a - deal of our literature and art unintelligible. To him the equestrian - statue, for example, will be an even more astonishing phenomenon than - it commonly is to us.</p> - - <p>There is a suggestion in all this to our good and great friends, the - vegetarians. They do not easily tire of pointing out the brutality of - slaughtering animals to get their meat, although it is not obvious - that we could eat them alive. We should breed some of these edible - creatures anyhow, for they serve other needs than those of appetite; - but others, like the late Belgian hare, who virtually passed away as - soon as the breeders and dealers failed to convince us that we were - eating him, would become extinct. Many millions of meat-bearing animals - owe whatever of life we grant them to the fact that we mean eventually - to deprive them of it. Seeing that they are so soon to be “done for,” - they may not understand what they were “begun for”; but if life is a - blessing, as most of us believe and themselves seem to believe, for - they manifest a certain reluctance to give it up, why, even a short<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span> - life is a thing to be thankful for. If we had not intended to kill them - they would not have lived at all.</p> - - <p>From this superior point of view even the royal sport of slaughtering - such preserved game as the English pheasant seems a trifle less brutal - than it is commonly affirmed to be by those of us who are not invited - to the killing. This argument, too, has an obvious application in the - instance of that worthy Russian sect that denies the right of man to - enslave horses, oxen, etc. But for man’s fell purpose of enslaving them - there would be none.</p> - - <p>And what about the American negro? Had it not been for the cruel greed - of certain Southern planters and Yankee skippers where would he be? - Would he be anywhere? So we see how all things work together for the - general good, and evil itself is a blessing in disguise. No African - slavery, no American negro; no American negro, no Senator Hanna’s - picturesque bill to pension his surviving ancestors. And without that - we should indubitably be denied the glittering hope of a similar bill - pensioning the entire negro race!</p> - - <p>1903.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span> - <h3 id="NEWSPAPERS">NEWSPAPERS</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE influence of some newspapers on republican government is - discernibly good; that of the enormous majority conspicuously - bad. Conducted by rogues and dunces for dunces and rogues, these - are faithful to nothing but the follies and vices of our system, - strenuously opposing every intelligent attempt at their elimination. - They fetter the feet of wisdom and stiffen the prejudices of the - ignorant. They are sycophants to the mob, tyrants to the individual. - They constitute a menace to organized society—a peril to government of - any kind; and if ever in America Anarchy shall beg to introduce his - dear friend Despotism we shall have to thank our vaunted “freedom of - the press” as the controlling spirit of the turbulent time, and Lord - of Misrule. We may then be grateful too that, like a meteor consumed - by friction of the denser atmosphere which its speed compressed, its - brightest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span> blaze will be its last. The despot whose path to power it - illumined will extinguish it with a dash of ink.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>An elective judiciary is slow to enforce the law against men before - whom its members come every few years in the character of suppliants - for favor; and how abjectly these learned candidates can sue, how - basely bid for a newspaper’s support, one must have been an editor to - know. The press has grown into a tyranny to which the courts themselves - are servile. To rule all classes and conditions of men with an iron - authority the newspapers have only to learn a single trick, against the - terrible power of which, when practised by others, they “continually do - cry,” with apparently never a thought of the advantage it might be to - themselves—the trick of combination. This lesson once learned, Liberty - may bury her own remains, for assuredly none will perform that pious - office for her with impunity. It has not come to that yet, but when - by virtue of controlling a newspaper a man is permitted to print and - circulate thousands of copies of a slander which neither he nor any man - would dare to speak before his victim’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span> friends a long step has been - taken toward the goal of entire irresponsibility. George Augustus Sala - said that from sea to sea America was woman’s kingdom, which she ruled - with absolute sway. Yet in America the father does not protect his - daughter, the son his mother, the brother his sister nor the husband - his wife, except in the theatrical profession, by way of advertisement. - The noblest and most virtuous lady in the land may be coarsely derided, - her reputation stabbed, her face, figure or toilet made the subject - of a scurrile jest, and no killing ensue, provided the offense be - committed with such circumstances of dissemination and publicity as - types alone can give it.</p> - - <h4>III</h4> - - <p>If the editor of a newspaper has any regard for his judgment; that - is, if he has any judgment, he will not indulge in prophecy. The most - conspicuous instances of the folly of predictions are those that occur - in a political “campaign.” There is a venerable and hoary tradition - among those ignorant persons who conduct party organs that the best and - most effective way to make their party win is to assert and re-assert - that it <i>will</i>. This infantile<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span> notion they act upon <i>ad - nauseam</i>, and doubtless lose by it a good many votes for their party - that it would otherwise receive, by making the more credulous among - their readers so sure of success that they do not think it worth while - to vote. If you could convince an unborn babe that it was going to be - born with a silver spoon in its mouth it would not exert itself to - procure that spoon.</p> - - <p>But making all due allowance for what the babes first above mentioned - do from “policy,” it remains true that partisan editors—whose bump of - common sense is countersunk till it would hold a hen’s egg—actually - believe in the inevitable success of their ticket every time and once - more. The election comes and a half of them are shown to their readers - in the true character of persons whose judgment is not worth a pin on - any matter under the sun. The mantle of the prophet having been raped - away from the partisan editor’s shoulders, it is seen that motley is - his only wear, and his readers—themselves of equal incapacity—feel - for him ever thereafter the contempt which he made such sacrifices to - deserve. Does it teach him anything? Something Solomon hath said on - this point—something about a fool and a mortar.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span></p> - - <p>The editor-person’s defense is somewhat as follows: “The income of my - paper depends not alone upon the favor of its readers, but upon that - of the party managers, and these latter certainly, if not the former, - would withhold their patronage (keeping it in the campaign fund) if - I did not ‘whoop her up.’ They believe in literary brass-banding and - fireworking. They wish to hear ‘Hail to the Chief’ in every editorial - line and in all the dispatches. If I exclude from my columns news - that is not news, but the outgivings of partisan enthusiasm or the - calculated falsehoods of partisan chicanery; if, in short, I refuse to - sell dishonest goods, I lose my chance at the loaves and fishes and my - paper is deposed from its proud position as an organ.”</p> - - <p>As to all that I have nothing to say. If a man choose to defend the - picking of others’ pockets by the plea that it fills his own, and that - if he stop his pal will no longer divide with him, the only cogent - reply that I know of is to call the police.</p> - - <p>As to the “general reader,” who is not entirely a scoundrel nor - altogether a fool, he requires no assurances of success to keep his - courage up. In order to retain his favor it is unnecessary to seem no - wiser than himself and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span> to share with him the dirty last ditch of his - broken hope every few years. The notion that an editor must “identify” - himself with all the wild and fallacious hopes of his readers, with - all their blind, brute prejudices and with the punishment of them, is - a discreditable tradition of the newspaper business, having nothing - in it. The traditions of every business are the creation of little, - timid men whose half-success is achieved, not by their methods, but in - spite of them, and because of the scarcity of men of brains. If these - were plentiful there would be nothing left for the traditionaries to - accomplish. The man of brains makes his success by the clarity of his - understanding: by discerning beneath the traditions the principles, - and, ignoring the former, applying the latter in his own way—which his - competitors and successors fondly believe they can imitate by following - his methods. In nothing has a great success, or rather a succession of - great successes, been made except by cutting loose from the traditions - and doing what the veteran experts gasp to observe.</p> - - <h4>IV</h4> - - <p>Some years ago—as lately as the presidential contest between Cleveland - and Blaine—it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span> was a cast-iron tradition of journalism that personal - defamation was a necessary and effective aid to success. True, every - newspaper deprecated it in a general way, and rose at it, shrieking - when it hurt; but nearly all practised it and always had done so. - Every political campaign was a disgraceful welter of detraction and - calumniation. To snout out a candidate’s “personal record,” and if it - was found clean befoul it—that was what the partisan editor regarded as - his first and highest duty to his party. The besmirching of candidates - was a tradition sacred and inviolable; it is now a dead practice, and - we have probably seen the last campaign of mud-slinging. The thing - might advantageously have been stopped at any time. The people did - not demand it; they were as decent then as now. The case was that - newspaper men did not know their business; and in respect of many other - disreputable survivals they do not know it now. I could name a full - dozen newspaper traditions now in full and strenuous vitality that are - as needless and mischievous as the vilification of candidates. They - will all die hard, but die they must, for the world will finally fall - into the sun, which will consume them.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span></p> - - <h4>V</h4> - - <p>That the newspapers might with advantage to the community be made - a deal cleaner is a proposition hardly open to question. In my - judgment this could be done without loss to their owners, but that - is an irrelevant consideration. It is not permitted to them to urge - that a decenter course would ruin them, for the community is under - no obligation to make publication of newspapers profitable. To the - editorial argument, “I have to live,” the answer is, “Yes, but not in - that way.” That plea is precisely as valid when made by the burglar. - Every one who has not committed a capital crime has a right to live, - but no one has a right to live by mischief.</p> - - <p>Clean newspapers if enterprising, honest and clever do thrive; so - what is really meant by “the right to live” is the right to live in - luxury—the right to a great income, instead of a smaller one. There - is no such right. If there were it would spare from condemnation the - grocer who sells poisonous goods because there is a demand for them, - the noctivagant Dago crying his rotten tamales, the quack doctor in - pursuit of his patient’s health. There is no such right.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span></p> - - <p>Charles Dudley Warner said, and it is repeated after him with tireless - iteration, that nearly every publisher of a newspaper is making a - better paper than he can afford to make. That is true, provided (1) - that good newspapers are not so well supported as bad, and (2) that - publishers cannot “afford” to be poor, or only moderately wealthy. Some - of the best and greatest men in the world, including Jesus Christ, have - thought they could afford to be poor. Poverty is not dear at the price - that one pays for it; it is dirt-cheap. Any one can afford it, and many - can not afford to be without it.</p> - - <p>The right to publish news <i>because</i> it is news has no basis in - law nor in morals; nor dare its most intrepid protagonist assert his - claim in consistent practice. Every newspaper man learns almost daily - of occurrences so lurid, of sins so “sensational,” of crimes so awful - that they have immunity from print. The world is not only a good deal - better but a good deal worse than it looks through any newspaper. - An editor has constantly to “draw the line”; he can draw it where - he pleases—nobody is compelling him to “go far” in publication of - immorality. To assert a right to do so; to affirm other compulsion - than curiosity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span>—that is dishonest. It is dishonest to unload his - responsibility upon the shoulders of even the sinners whose sins he - relates. They break the laws of decency, but they do not compel him to. - They do not force him to expose for sale narratives of their offenses; - they prefer that he do not. He has no mandate to make the way of the - transgressor hard: we have laws for that. He has only the mandate of - his pocket; if in obeying it he damage or disgust or distress the best - persons among whom he lives he can not plead the profit that he makes - in gratification of the others. It is no way desirable that they be - gratified.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span> - <h3 id="A_BENIGN_INVENTION">A BENIGN INVENTION</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE phonograph has not accomplished all that was expected of it, yet - it has proved a most interesting and valuable invention. One of its - achievements is of the nature of a revelation: it has proved that even - the most loquacious person is unacquainted with the sound of his own - voice. As reproduced by the machine, one’s voice seems to be that of - a stranger: his ear does not recognize it, and he is with difficulty - convinced that he hears himself as others hear him. Commonly, it is - said, the effect is deeply disappointing; the tones are not so rich and - mellow as he had a right to expect, and he leaves the instrument with a - chastened spirit and a broken pride.</p> - - <p>The instrument has herein a broad field of usefulness. As a teacher - of humility it takes rank with the parson, the flirt, the mirror and - the banana peel on the sidewalk. It humbles the orator and strews - repentant ashes on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span> head of the ardent young woman who has taken - lessons in elocution but none in forbearance. The amateur who has - always a cold when pressed to sing takes on an added reluctance having - in it an element of sincerity. In the meek taciturnity of the “good - conversationalist” society finds a new edification and delight.</p> - - <p>For these and similar benefactions let us be truly thankful; but we - should not hope for too much. The blessing is bright, but it may not - be lasting. It is not in human nature to wear sackcloth and ashes as a - permanent apparel. In the valley of humility are no old residents. As - much as is herein affirmed of the phonograph might with equal reason - have been expected from its elder brother, the photograph. “Who,” it - might once have been asked, “will have the hardihood to go unveiled and - unblushing after experiencing the awful revelations of the camera?” - Alas! man was created upright, but he has sought out many improvements. - No sooner had the merciless sun-picture begun to take the conceit - out of us than some ingenious malefactor rushed to the rescue with a - process called “retouching,” whereby the once honest camera was made - to lie like a lover; men and women<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span> resumed their vanity, revised and - enlarged it, and made it a means of afflicting their friends with - portraits that shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire - and brimstone.</p> - - <p>The ingenuity that invented the phonograph can adapt it to our need - and our hope by taking the sting out of it. Mr. Edison will doubtless - discern a commercial advantage in devising a method of “retouching” - the little waxen cylinder—so smoothing its asperities that it will - give off tones and cadences radically different from, and infinitely - superior to, those that it received. The most rasping nasal twang will - be transmuted “into something rich and strange.” The catarrhal accent - of the Boston maiden will reappear as that “vocal velvet” wherewith - the British blondes of the “Black Crook” period enravished the soul of - Richard Grant White. The irritating stammerer will ejaculate into the - machine his impedimentary utterances and get them back in a smooth rill - of speech—a fluent, flute-like warble. We shall easily learn to accept - these pleasing vocal fictions, deriving from the falsified record a - rich and high delight. Enamored of what we conceive to be the music of - our own voices, and persuaded of their happy effect upon others,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span> we - shall cultivate loquacity as an art and practice prolixity as a virtue. - In the retouched phonogram lurk the promise and potency of a pleasure - incomparably more mischievous than the confusion of tongues on the - plain of Shinar.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>There appears to be no reason to doubt that Mr. Edison’s most - remarkable invention, the theoscope, has a great future before it. - An instrument that enables us to see another as he sees himself must - accomplish great good by promoting clear understandings between man and - man, and subjecting estimates of personal character to the chance of - revision. As matters now stand, and have stood from time immemorial, - our opinion of even a man whom we have known from infancy is formed by - a series of what are known to journalism as “Star Chamber proceedings,” - in which the man himself is not heard with that fulness and frankness - that are desirable. It is hardly fair either to convict or to acquit - him—nay, even to honor or reward him—upon indirect testimony, - introduced by him for another purpose. True justice obviously requires - that A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span> in making up his mind about B should in some way, if possible, - avail himself of the advantage of looking into a mind already made - up—a mind enriched and instructed by longer and nearer observation of - the subject upon which light is sought: in short, B’s mind. If Mr. - Edison’s invention make this as practicable as (if practicable) it is - imperative, he has indeed brought “joy to the afflicted” in a way to - make the proprietor of a patent medicine grow green with envy.</p> - - <p>That he should call his marvelous and delicate appliance a theoscope - appears at first thought a reasonless and wanton exercise of the - right of nomenclature; but on reflection the name seems singularly - appropriate. “Theoscope,” I venture to inform the reader unacquainted - with Greek, is from the words Θεός, god, and σκοπειν, to view. The - theoscope is therefore an instrument with which to look at gods. When - one man sees another as the other sees himself, the image, naturally, - is one of supernatural dignity and importance—one worthy of divine - honors, even if ’tis not in mortals to command them. One hardly knows - which to admire the more, the ingenuity that invented the theoscope or - the inspiration that named it.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span></p> - - <p>Most readers are more or less disposed to agree with Burns that the - gift to see ourselves as others see us would from many a blunder free - us, and foolish notion; but few, probably, have reflected on the - considerable advantage of seeing others as they see themselves. It - seems certain, for example, that it would notably minish the acerbities - of debate if each of two disputants could behold in the other, not - an obstinate, pig-headed malefactor endeavoring by unfair means to - establish an idiotic proposition, but a high-hearted philanthropist, - benevolent and infallible, tenderly concerned for an erring opponent’s - reclamation and intellectual prosperity. The general use of the - theoscope in newspaper offices can hardly fail profoundly to modify - and mollify discussion, in range and heat. When the editor of the - <i>Cow County Opinionator</i> has written down the editor of the - <i>Hog’s-Back Allegationist</i> as “a loathsome contemporary whose - moral depravity is only exceeded by his social degradation, and whose - skill in horse-stealing has been thought worthy of record in the books - of a court which his ill-gotten gold was unable to corrupt,” it may - occur to him to ring up his enemy and inveigle him to the other end - of the apparatus.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span> The god-like image of a blameless man and generous - rival which will then confront him he may know in his soul to be an - incredibly counterfeit presentment, but the moral effect of looking - at a noble work of the imagination is to soften the heart and elevate - the sentiments: he will probably find something in his written censure - which he would willingly let die save for the precious example of its - incomparable style.</p> - - <p>If the theoscope may be expected to work so desirable moral changes in - the man at the receiving instrument, what may we not hope as to its - influence on the person before the transmitter? To be seen at last - as one really is (according to one’s own belief) must necessarily be - supremely gratifying to all who have known and bewailed the opacity of - the glass through which they have hitherto been seen darkly. No longer - doomed to chafe under the disability that forbids expression, our - natures must expand to something nearly as great and good as that other - self which we can send over the wire by merely touching a button. When - a famous cartoonist had the justice to offset his weekly caricatures by - representing his favorite victims once as they would have represented - themselves he doubtless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span> did something toward discrediting his own - conceptions and justifying theirs. There are persons whom nothing will - reform, but it would be possible to make a long list of “prominent - citizens” who would be lifted to the breezy altitudes of a higher and - better life by the consciousness, however erroneous, of the power so to - present their true personalities that he who runs may read, instead of - so that he who reads runs, as now.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span> - <h3 id="ACTORS_AND_ACTING">ACTORS AND ACTING</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">WAS Sir Henry Irving a great actor? Possibly; there is abundant - testimony, little evidence. The testimony of Englishmen is to be - received with caution, for Irving was an Englishman; that of Americans - with greater caution, for the same reason. The narrowest provincialism - in the world is that of great cities, and London is the greatest - city. What London says all England repeats; and America affirms it on - oath. It is understood, as a matter of course, that in the judgment - of England the best English actor, writer or artist is the best in - the world. If one has conquered his way to the foremost place in the - approval of a small London clique, not, in the case of an actor, - exceeding a half-dozen men promoted to power by a process of selection - with which ability has had nothing to do, one has conquered half the - world. It would be easy to name the half-dozen who made Henry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span> Irving’s - fame and set it sailing o’er the seas with bellying canvas and flag - apeak. On this side no one ever demanded the ship’s papers. This is - Echoland, home of the ditto-maniac. We are freemen, but not bigoted ones.</p> - - <p>For aught I know Irving may have been as good an actor as his - countrymen who saw him thought him. Nay, he may have been half as good - as my countrymen who did not see him think him. I myself saw him play - only two or three times. He was not then a good actor, but that was - a long time before his death; judgment from the fading memory of a - performance decades ago would hardly do. Wherein, then, lies excuse - of this present infervency—this cry <i>qui vive</i> at the outpost of - the camp? Herein. Not only were Irving’s credentials defective; there - is a strong presumption that the defect was irreparable—that they - “certificate a sham.” This defect was racial. The English are, if not - an unemotional, an undemonstrative people. When sad the Englishman does - not weep, when pleased he does not laugh. Anger him and he will neither - stamp nor tear his hair; startle him and he jumps not an inch. His - conversation is destitute of vivacity and unaided by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span> gesticulation. - His face does not light up when he deems it his duty to smile. His - transports of affection are moderated to the seemly ceremony of shaking - hands; though he is said sometimes to kiss his grandmother if she is - past seventy and will let him. Removed from his brumous environment, - the English human being becomes in time accessible to light and - heat—penetrable by the truth that all manifestation of emotion and - sentiment is not necessarily vulgar; but in the tight little isle - Stolidity holds her immemorial sway without other change in the - administrative function than occasional substitution of the stare of - deprecation for the stare of complacency.</p> - - <p>To suppose that great actors can come of a race like that is to - trifle with the laws of nature. Acting is preëminently the art of - expression—expression of the sentiments and emotions by speech, look, - gesture, movement—in every way that one person can address the eye and - ear of another. It requires the acutest and alertest sensibilities, - faculties all responsive to subtle stirs of feeling. Are these English - characteristics? Clearly not; they are those of the peoples that (in - England) are despised as “volatile,” “garrulous,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span> “excitable”—the - French and Italians, for examples, who have produced the only really - good actors of modern times. Our own actors are better than the - English, but not good; one sees better acting about a dining-table - in Paris than has ever been seen on the stage of London or New - York—excepting when it is held by players in whose veins is the fire of - Southern suns, whose nerves dance to the rhythmic beat of Mediterranean - ripples and</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i2">keep, with Capri’s sunny fountains,</div> - <div class="i0">Perpetual holiday.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">One pale globule of our cold Teutonic blood queers the whole - performance. For German, English and American actors society should - provide “homes,” with light employment, good plain food and, when they - keep their mouths shut and their limbs quiet, thunders of artificial - applause.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>Few respectable shams are to me more distasteful than the affectation - of delight in the performance of an actor who speaks his lines in a - tongue unknown to the audience, as did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span> sometimes the late Signor Rossi - in the rôle of “Otello.” It is of the essence and validity of acting - that it address the understanding through the ear as well as the eye. - The tones of an actor’s voice, however pleasing, do not address the - understanding at all without intelligible words; they are no more - than the notes of a violin—the pleasure they give is purely sensual, - and the speaker might as well articulate no words at all. A play, or - a part in a play, performed in unfamiliar speech is hardly better - than a pantomime, and those who profess to find in it an intellectual - gratification—well, they may be very estimable persons, for aught I - know.</p> - - <p>It is not enough, in order to enjoy “Othello” or “Hamlet,” that the - audience have a general familiarity with the part; their knowledge - of it must be minute and precise. They must know of what particular - sentiment a facial expression is the visible exponent; of what - particular word a gesture is the accompaniment. Else how can they know - that the look is natural, the motion impressive? If one had memorized - the part <i>verbatim</i>, and the meaning of every word, the accidental - omission of a sentence would break the chain, and all that the eye - should afterward report<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span> of the passage would be meaningless. How shall - you know that the actor “suits the action to the word” if you know not - the word? To a mind ignorant of Italian the “Otello” of Signor Rossi - may have been a noble exercise in guessing; as acting it can have had - no value.</p> - - <h4>III</h4> - - <p>We are all familiar with the hoary old dictum that the public has no - concern with the private lives of the show folk. I must ask leave to - differ. I must insist that the public has a most serious interest in - the chastity of girls and the fidelity of wives. It is not good for - the public that its women be taught by conspicuous example that to - her who possesses a single talent, or any number of talents, a life - of shame is no bar to public adulation. Every young and inexperienced - woman believes herself to have some commanding quality which properly - fostered will bring her fame. If she knows that she can do nothing - else she thinks that she can write poetry. Is not the father mad who - shows his ambitious daughter how little men really care for virtue—how - tolerant they are of vice if it be gilded with genius? Worse and most - shameful of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span> all, women who clutch away their skirts from contact with - some poor devil of a girl who having soiled herself is unable to sing - herself out of the mire, will take their pure young girls to see the - world worshiping at the feet of a wanton and her paramour because, - forsooth, both are gifted and one is beautiful. Let these tender - younglings lay well to heart the lesson in charity. Let them not forget - that in their parents’ judgment an uncommon physical formation, joined - with an exceptional talent, excuses an immoral life.</p> - - <p>Talent? Beauty alone is all-sufficient. Was not the whole eastern half - of this continent, at one time, overhung with clouds of incense burned - at the shrine of Beauty unadorned with virtue? Did not the western - half give it hospitable welcome and set the wreath upon a brow still - reeking of a foreign lecher’s royal kisses and the later salutes of - an impossible gambler? She was not even an actress—she could play - nothing but the devil. The foundation of her fame and fortune was - scandal—scandal lacking even the excuse of love. She had the sagacity - to boast of a distinction that she enjoyed in common with a hundred - less thrifty dames. She knew the shortest cut to the American heart - and pocket.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span> She knew that American fathers, husbands, brothers, sons - and lovers would be so base as to come and bring her gold, and that - American mothers, wives, sisters, daughters and sweethearts would be - bad enough to accompany them, to gaze without a blush at the posings of - a simpleton recommended by a prince. She gathered her sheaves and went - away. She came back to the re-ripening harvest, hoping that God would - postpone the destruction of a corrupt land until she could get out of it.</p> - - <p>Heaven forbid that I should set myself up as a censor of any offenders - save those who have the hardihood to continue infamous; I only beg to - point out that when Christ shielded the woman taken in adultery he did - not tell her that if she were a good singer she might go her way and - sin more. That is how I answer the ever-ready sneer about “casting - the first stone.” That is how I cast it. If the fallen woman, finding - herself possessed of a single talent, had gone into business as a show - without reforming her private morals Christ would not have been found - standing all night in line to buy tickets for himself and the Blessed - Virgin.</p> - - <p>I am for preserving the ancient, primitive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span> distinction between - right and wrong. The virtues of Socrates, the wisdom of Aristotle, - the examples of Marcus Aurelius and Jesus Christ are good enough to - engage my admiration and rebuke my life. From my fog-scourged and - plague-smitten morass I lift reverent eyes to the shining summits of - eternal truth, where they stand; I strain my senses to catch the law - that they deliver. In every age and clime vice and folly have shared - the throne of a double dominance, dictating customs and fashions. At - no time has the devil been idle, but his freshest work few eyes are - gifted with the faculty to discover. We trace him where the centuries - have hardened his tracks into history, but round about us his noiseless - footfalls awaken no sense of his near activity.</p> - - <p>The subject is too serious to be humorously discussed. This - glorification of the world’s higher harlotage is one of the great - continental facts that no ingenuity, no sophistry, no sublimity of - lying can circumnavigate. It marks a civilization that is ripe and - rotten. It characterizes an age that has lost the landmarks of right - reason. These actors and actresses of untidy lives—they reek audibly. - We should not speak of going to see them;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span> “I am going to smell Miss - Molocha Montflummery in ‘Juliet’”—that would adequately describe the - moral situation. Brains and hearts these persons have none; they are - destitute of manners, modesty and sense. The sight of their painted - faces, the memory of their horrible slang, their simian cleverness, - their vulgar “<i>aliases</i>,” their dissolute lives, half emotion and - half wine—these are a sickness to any cleanly soul.</p> - - <p>Moreover, I advance the belief that any woman who publicly, for gain - or glory, charity or caprice, makes public exhibition of any talent - or grace that she may happen to have, maculates the chastity of her - womanhood, and is thenceforth unworthy of a manly love. No man of - sensibility but feels a twinge on reading his wife’s, or his sister’s, - or his daughter’s name in print; none but trembles to hear it upon - the lips of strangers. You might easily prove the absurdity of this - feeling; but she is the wisest, and cleanest, and sweetest, and best - beloved who is not at the pains to disregard it. Gentlemen, charge your - glasses—here’s a health to the woman that is not a show.</p> - - <p>1893.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span> - <h3 id="THE_VALUE_OF_TRUTH">THE VALUE OF TRUTH</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE Texas Legislature once considered a bill that was of some - importance to liars. It provided that if a man called another a liar - and the latter disclosed his sense of the situation by “putting a - head on” the former, the State would hold him guiltless of offense. - Texan public opinion naturally viewed it with alarm as an attempt - to introduce alien and doubtful customs by substitution of the fist - for the bowie-knife. It appears, though, that several States of the - Union have laws against calling one a liar. In Virginia, Kentucky and - Arkansas, it is a misdemeanor punishable by fine. In Mississippi, South - Carolina and West Virginia it is ground for civil action for damages. - Georgia makes it a felony if it is untrue. In none of these states, - apparently, and nowhere else, is it either a misdemeanor or a felony to - <i>be</i> a liar. That seems rather queer, does it not? I wonder why it - is so.</p> - - <p>Now that I think of it, I seem always to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span> have observed (and possibly - the phenomenon has not been overlooked by all others) that the man whom - the word “liar” maddens to crime is commonly not maddened to anything - in particular by the consciousness of being one.</p> - - <p>The philosophy of the matter is that truthfulness, like all the other - virtues, takes rank as such because in the long run, and in the greater - number of instances, it is expedient. Whatever is, generally speaking, - expedient, that is to say, conducive to the welfare of the race, comes - to be considered a virtue; whatever, with only the same limitations, - does not promote, but obstructs, the welfare of the race is held to be - a sin. Morality has, and can have, no other basis than expediency. A - virtue is not an end; it is a means; the end is that only conceivable - welfare, happiness. To increase the sum of happiness—that is the only - worthy ambition, the only creditable motive. Whatever does that is - right; whatever does the contrary is wrong. An act that does neither - the one nor the other has no moral character at all. That an act can - be right or wrong without regard to its consequences is to a sane - understanding an unthinkable proposition. It is difficult to imagine a - world in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span> which happiness would commonly be promoted by falsehood, but - in such a world falsehood would indubitably be considered, and rightly - considered, a virtue, and to be called a truth-teller would be resented - as an insult, especially by those most irreclaimably addicted to the - habit.</p> - - <p>During a recent trial of a postal-service “grafter” a witness confessed - with candor that one of his commercial habits was that of saying “the - thing that is not.” “You can’t help telling lies in business,” he - explained. But you can; you can tell the truth for the good of your - soul and make an assignment for the benefit of your creditors.</p> - - <p>To be serious, no man of sense really believes that falsehood is - necessary to success in business. The practices and customs of every - trade and profession are those which commend themselves to approval - of small men, men with an impediment in their thought. It is they who - virtually conduct the affairs of the world, for there are too few of - the other sort to count for much. These little fellows, therefore, - “set the fashion,” determine the ethics and traditions in business, in - law, in medicine, in politics, in religion, in journalism. The most - conspicuous characteristic of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span> this pigmy band is a predisposition to - small deceits. The first word that rises to their lips is a lie; the - last word that leaves them is a lie. Go into the first shop you find - and ask for something not kept there, but which you know all about. - Observe the salesman’s, or, alas, saleswoman’s, alacrity in telling you - a lie to induce you to abandon your preference in favor of something - that is kept there. Do you fancy it is different in dealing with those - higher in the scale of commercial being? A wealthy and most respectable - business man once told me that among the two or three scores of similar - men with whom he daily dealt there was not one that he could believe; - he had to try to discern their secret wishes and intentions through the - fog of falsehood in which they sought to conceal them. He had himself a - method quite as misleading; he deceived them by telling the truth. They - couldn’t imagine a man doing a thing like that, so they disbelieved him - and he got the better of them.</p> - - <p>That is his account of the matter. Perhaps it is true—he may have - wanted me to think him a liar. Anyhow, the method of deceit that he - professed has sometimes been successfully followed in large affairs, - notably by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span> late Prince Bismarck. When he entered the field of - diplomacy he found it such a nest of liars that for centuries no man - in it had believed another. He could deceive only by being truthful, - and for many years he fooled all the diplomats by his amazing and - confusing candor in disclosing his desires and intentions. If he had - lived a thousand years he would have revolutionized diplomacy and would - then have reverted, with a special advantage to himself, to the senior - practices of the trade. But he died and his method died with him.</p> - - <p>If truth is so valuable why do not all truthful men succeed? Because - not all truthful men have brains. Not all men of truth and brains have - energy. Not all men of truth and brains and energy have opportunity. - Not all men of truth and brains and energy and opportunity are lucky. - And finally, not all men of truth and brains and energy and opportunity - and luck particularly care to succeed; some of us like to ignore the - gifts of nature and dawdle through life in something of the peace that - we expect after death. Moreover, there is a difference of opinion as - to what is success. I know an abandoned wretch who considers himself - prosperous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span> when happy; do you know any one who considers himself happy - when prosperous?</p> - - <p>In the sweat of their consciences most men eat bread. I doubt if they - find it particularly sweet, even when, having a whole loaf, they see - a neighbor with none. They are tormented with a craving for pillicum. - (There is no such dish as pillicum—that is why they crave it.) Go to, - all ye that pursue shadows, or fly from them. Learn to be content with - what you have. True, if all were that way there would be an end to - civilization, which is the daughter of discontent and worthy of its - mother; but that is not your affair. You are custodians of your own - happiness and have a right to peace, health and sweet sleep o’ nights. - You are not bound to take account of hypothetical perils; it will be - time to consider the extinction of civilization when you observe that - all are becoming content. Contentment is a virtue which at present - seems to be confined mainly to the wise and the infamous.</p> - - <p>1903.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span> - <h3 id="SYMBOLS_AND_FETISHES">SYMBOLS AND FETISHES</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">HERALDRY dies hard. It is of purely savage origin, having its roots in - the ancient necessity of tribal classification. Before our ancestors - had a written language their tribes and families found it convenient - to distinguish themselves from one another by rude pictures of such - objects as they knew about, with improvements by the artist of the - period—the six-legged lion, the two-headed eagle, the spear-point lily - and the thistle-with-a-difference. The modifications were infinite; - accessories developed into essentials and the science of heraldry was - evolved, to explain what the pictures were and expound their meaning. - Like the priests and the medicine men of all times, and the lawyers - and all other professionals of our time, heralds were swift to discern - a profit in complicating their fad with an unthinkable multitude of - invented additions and technical shibboleths intelligible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> to nobody - but themselves; and to-day, when the entire scheme has long ceased - to have any practical relation to the lives of men and the polity of - nations, there are in Europe high officers of government charged with - the duty of its exposition and conservation, and with the custody of - its ludicrous muniments and paraphernalia. And men and women accounted - intelligent and modest are proud of devices owing their origin to - barbarism, their signification to the thrifty ingenuity of drones and - leeches and their perpetuation to the same naked and unashamed vanity - as that of men who decorate their breasts with “orders” and “crosses” - certifying their personal merit.</p> - - <p>Where these things exist as “survivals” their use is at least a - supportable stupidity; but in America, where they come by cold-blooded - adoption essentially simian, they are offensive. Many of the devices - upon the seals of our states are no less ridiculous than those used - (or the use of any) by some of our “genteel” families to hint at an - illustrious descent. Our national coat-of-arms itself is almost enough - to make a self-respecting American forswear his allegiance. From a - shield with an eagle on it we have developed an eagle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span> with a shield - on it. We may call it the American eagle, but it is the same old bird - that tore the heart out of Gaul and the gall out of Carthage; the - same that has whetted his bloody beak upon the bones of a thousand - tribes now extinct; the same that was fearfully and wonderfully drawn - in berry-juice upon rocks to glad the vanity of the shock-headed - cave-dweller when the browsing mammoth was flushed with rose in the - dawning of time.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>Says one writing of the “Stars and Stripes”:</p> - - <p>“The American flag is an emblem not only of freedom but of - civilization; and as such, it ought to be beloved and worshiped by - all who live under it or who in any wise receive the benefit which it - confers on mankind.”</p> - - <p>That is a pretty fair sample of what one can be brought to feel by - inability to think without confusion. Human nature presents no more - striking characteristic than the tendency to neglect the substance - and consider the shadow; to forget the end, in contemplation and - approval of the means; to substitute principle for action and ceremony - for principle;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span> to attribute to the symbol the virtues of the thing - symbolized. It evidently did not occur to the patriotic gentleman who - wrote the quoted sentence, and much else in the same spirit, that the - flag being only an “emblem” of freedom and civilization (our kind - of freedom and civilization, by the way) is not at all entitled to - the love and worship that he solicits for it; these should go, not - to the flag, but to the things of which it is an emblem—to freedom - and civilization. His idolatrous tendency and his truly heathenish - confusion of mind are still further shown in his reference of “the - benefit which it” (the flag, observe) “confers on mankind.” His is a - typical utterance: the vestigial idolatry of the cave-dweller and the - sylvan nomad is still strong in the race, and flag-worship is one of - its most reasonless manifestations. Everywhere and always in these days - of war we hear and read words about the flag which a thinking human - being would be ashamed to utter of an actual beneficent deity. There is - no room whatever for doubt that what the average patriot acclaims and - honors is the actual colored silk or bunting, not what it represents. - To the conception of abstractions he comes unfitly equipped, but he can - see a tinted rag. I do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span> not know that any harm comes of his fetishism; - it is noted merely as an interesting and significant phenomenon—one - of a thousand proving the brevity of our advance along the line of - progress toward enlightenment. It is of a piece of the average human - being’s more or less sincere respect for truth, justice, chastity and - so forth, not as practicable means to the end of human happiness, but - as things creditable and desirable in themselves, even when subversive - of their actual purpose by promoting misery.</p> - - <p>Let the flag flap, and let “our ill-starred fellow citizens” who are - unable to get a firm mental grasp on what it stands for knuckle down - upon their knees before it and lift the voice. But, God bless them! - how they would be shocked to observe the indifference with which - it is regarded by soldiers in battle! One of the sharpest and most - righteous rebukes I ever got from high authority was for permitting my - color-sergeant to flaunt his gaudy symbol in the face of a battery. - To civilian orators and poets the flag is sacred; to the intelligent - soldier it is merely useful: it marks the battle line, preserves the - unity of the regiment and “inspires” the soldier that is unintelligent.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span></p> - - <p>A singularly disagreeable instance of fetishism is related of the - Hon. William Jennings Bryan. While in Tokio, the story goes—among - his admirers—he purchased a stool upon which Admiral Togo had sat at - a Shinto ceremony. The story has it that the sale was reluctantly - made, for the stool had been long a sacred object before it was newly - consecrated by contact with the person of the renowned sailor; but the - custodians did not feel at liberty to disappoint so illustrious an - American as Mr. Bryan. On learning this, the great man magnanimously - returned it and contented himself, as well as he could, with a common - chair upon which Togo had sat in a restaurant.</p> - - <p>It is disagreeable to think of Mr. Bryan in the character of a - sycophantic souvenir hunter. It is disagreeable to think that even - the humblest and obscurest American citizen can have so little - self-respect. Anthropolatry is but a shade less base and barbarous - than that other primitive religion, fetishism; and the two, as in - this instance, are often in coexistence. No superstition seems ever - wholly to die. Both these are rife and rampant in the civilization - of to-day, and one can name, offhand, a dozen of their customary - manifestations<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span> by persons who would be shocked by the revelation of - their close relationship to the shagpate cave-dweller, the remoter - <i>pithecanthropos erectus</i>, and, at the back of them both, the - quadrumanal arborean with a vestigial swim-bladder. - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span> - <h3 id="DID_WE_EAT_ONE_ANOTHER">DID WE EAT ONE ANOTHER?</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THERE is no doubt of it. The unwelcome truth has been long suppressed - by interested parties who find their account in playing sycophant to - that self-satisfied tyrant Modern Man; but to the impartial philosopher - it is as plain as the nose upon the elephant’s face that our ancestors - ate one another. The custom of the Fiji Islanders, which is their only - stock-in-trade, their only claim to notoriety, is a relic of barbarism; - but it is a relic of our barbarism.</p> - - <p>Man is naturally a carnivorous animal. That none but green-grocers - will dispute. That he was formerly less vegetarian in his diet than - at present, is clear from the fact that market gardening increases in - the ratio of civilization. So we may safely assume that at some remote - period Man subsisted on an exclusively flesh diet. Our uniform vanity - has given us the human mind as the acme of intelligence, the human face - and figure as the standard of beauty. Of course we cannot deny to human - fat and lean an equal superiority<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span> over beef, mutton and pork. It is - plain that our meat-eating ancestors would think in this way, and being - unrestrained by the mawkish sentiment attendant on high civilization, - would act habitually on the obvious suggestion. <i>A priori</i>, - therefore, it is clear that we ate ourselves.</p> - - <p>Philology is about the only thread that connects us with the - prehistoric past. By picking up and piecing together the scattered - remnants of language, we form a patchwork of wondrous design and - significance. Consider the derivation of the word “sarcophagus,” and - see if it be not suggestive of potted meats. Observe the significance - of the phrase “sweet sixteen.” What a world of meaning lurks in the - expression “she is as sweet as a peach,” and how suggestive of luncheon - are the words “tender youth.” A kiss is but a modified bite, and a fond - mother, when she says her babe is “almost good enough to eat,” merely - shows that she is herself only a trifle too good to eat it.</p> - - <p>These evidences might be multiplied <i>ad infinitum</i>; but if enough - has been said to induce one human being to revert to the diet of his - forefathers the object of this essay is accomplished.</p> - - <p>1868.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span> - <h3 id="THE_BACILLUS_OF_CRIME">THE BACILLUS OF CRIME</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">FOR a number of years it has been known to all but a few ancient - physicians—survivals from an exhausted régime—that all disease is - caused by <i>bacilli</i>, which worm themselves into the organs that - secrete health and enjoin them from the performance of that rite. The - medical conservatives mentioned attempt to whittle away the value and - significance of this theory by affirming its inadequacy to account - for such disorders as broken heads, sunstroke, superfluous toes, - home-sickness, burns and strangulation on the gallows; but against the - testimony of so eminent bacteriologers as Drs. Koch and Pasteur their - carping is as that of the impatient angler. The <i>bacillus</i> is not - to be denied; he has brought his blankets and is here to stay until - evicted. Doubtless we may confidently expect his eventual supersession - by a fresher and more ingenious disturber of the physiological peace, - but he is now chief among ten thousand evils and the one altogether<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span> - lovely, and it is futile to attempt to read him out of the party.</p> - - <p>It follows that in order to deal intelligently with the criminal - impulse in our afflicted fellow-citizens we must discover the - <i>bacillus</i> of crime, which we now know is merely disease with - another name. To that end we think that the bodies of hanged assassins - and such patients of low degree as have been gathered to their fathers - by the cares of public office or consumed by the rust of inactivity - in prison should be handed over to a microscopical society for - examination. The bore, too, offers a fine field for research, and might - justly enough be examined alive. Whether there is one general—or as the - ancient and honorable orders prefer to say, “grand”—<i>bacillus</i>, - producing a general (or grand) criminal impulse generating a - multitude of sins, or an infinite number of well defined and several - <i>bacilli</i>, each inciting to a particular crime, is a question - to the determination of which the most distinguished microscopist - might be proud to devote the powers of his eye. If the latter is - the case it will somewhat complicate the treatment, for clearly the - patient afflicted with chronic assassination will require different - medicines from those which might be efficacious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span> in a gentleman - suffering from constitutional theft or the desire to represent his - district in Congress. But it is permitted to us to hope that all the - crimes, like all the arts, are essentially one; that murder, commerce - and respectability are but different symptoms of the same physical - disorder, at the back of which is a microbe vincible to a single - medicament, albeit the same awaits discovery. - </p> - - <p>In the fascinating theory of the unity of crime we may not unreasonably - hope to find another evidence of the brotherhood of man, another - spiritual bond tending to draw the several classes of society more - closely together. If such should be the practical effect of the great - truth something will have been gained, even if the discovery of a - suitable medicine to restore our enemies to health be delayed until all - too late to save them from rude and primitive treatment by the sheriff.</p> - - <p>1893.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span> - <h3 id="THE_GAME_OF_BUTTON">THE GAME OF BUTTON</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">AMONG the countless evils besetting us in our passage through this - vale of tears “to where beyond these voices there is peace,” the - button holds a conspicuous place, and is apparently inaccessible to - the spirit of reform. Less shocking than war, pestilence or famine, - less destructive than the Dingley tariff and less irritating than - the Indiana novel, it is thought by many observers to be, in the sum - of its effects in reducing the gayety of nations, superior to any of - these maleficent agencies, and by some to excel them all together. In - the persistent currency of the story of the man who killed himself - because of his weariness in buttoning and unbuttoning his clothes we - have strong confirmatory testimony to the button’s “natural magic - and dire property on wholesome life.” The story itself appears to - be destitute of authentication, and but for its naturalness, its - inherent credibility and the way that these bring it home to men’s - business and bosoms it would probably have had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span> as evanescent a vogue - as the immortal works discovered weekly by the literary critics of - the newspapers. As it is, this simple and touching tale will probably - live as long as any language, possibly as long as the button itself. - For the button is apparently immortal. It has struck root deeply into - human conservatism—more deeply, I am constrained to admit, than it has, - generally speaking, into the textile fabrics with which it is commonly - but somewhat precariously connected.</p> - - <p>That the button is in some sense a benefaction is not lightly to be - denied. In its unostentatious way, and when it stays on, it does a - good deal for the comfort of mankind, as, the police permitting, one - may readily convince himself by walking a few blocks without its - artful aid. Its splendid opportunities of usefulness, however, are - the creations, not so much of our ingenuity, as of our limitations. - If the human race had been born omniscient (in the tops of trees, - as is thought to be held by the Darwinians) instead of achieving - omniscience too lately to overcome the button habit, we should not have - had the primitive appliance thrust upon us, for we should never have - thrust ourselves into the tubular clothing which seems to require its - ministrations.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span> Even in the endurance of that capital affliction we are - not intelligently aided by the button. It badly serves a needless need - and the common sense of the race cries out against it as clumsy, ugly, - inefficient and frequently absent from duty at a critical moment which - it has malevolently foreseen. It is better than nothing, doubtless, but - when considered along with the hook-and-eye, for example, it breaks - down at every point of the comparison. The tailor who, disregarding - the mandates of conservatism and tradition, and filled with a divine - compassion for his race, should rise to the great occasion and with - one foot upon the sea and the other upon the land declare that buttons - should be no more would accomplish an enduring fame and dispute - with Washington and draw-poker the first place in the hearts of his - countrymen. He would have only to replace the button, where it serves - as a fastener, with some simple adaptation of the hook-and-eye, and - where it exists as a mere survival (as for example at the back of a - frock-coat, where it once assisted in supporting the sword-belt) put - nothing at all, and the millions yet to be would rise up and call him - blest.</p> - - <p>I have preferred to consider this matter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span> with reference mainly to the - woes and wants of the coarser sex, but the button is known to woman. - With the charming superiority to reason which her detractors term - perversity she prefers it on the left-hand side of her garments, but it - dominates her life and poisons her peace none the less for that; albeit - she offers herself the solace of turning it into an ornament more or - less fearfully and wonderfully made.</p> - - <p>In modern religious history women and buttons have a connection which - is as singular as interesting. To the great movement which resulted in - establishing Protestantism the name “Reformation” is not universally - deemed appropriate, but there is one of his many aspects in which - Martin Luther may be contemplated by all as a true reformer. Before - his day women invariably used the hook-and-eye exclusively, which was - well enough. Unfortunately, however, they had conceived the remarkable - notion that this simple and useful appliance for joining together what - man is not permitted to put asunder, would abate something of its - efficacy if placed where reason would naturally suggest. All women’s - dresses were made to hook behind, and in being fastened required the - services of another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span> person than the wearer. For this reason, and - because God had made him so, Luther assailed the custom with all the - fire and fierceness of his polemical nature. So long as women could not - dress themselves without assistance, he argued, they must be slaves, - and their spiritual natures must remain undeveloped until they should - fasten their frocks in front. Calvin, on the contrary, found nothing in - the Scriptures authorizing women to enter their clothing backward and - set his face like a flint against the impious innovation. The contest - between the disciples of these two mighty minds was waged with great - bitterness, notwithstanding the efforts of the gentle Melancthon, who - stood for peace and tried to part them in the middle, enacting, indeed, - the role of Mr. Facing-both-ways. In the end Luther conquered. All good - Protestant dames and maidens save those of his antagonist’s immediate - following adopted his views and eventually the Catholic ladies swung - into line, too. But in some of the dark corners of Europe and America - a vestige of the Calvinist influence survives, and ladies’ gowns open - behind like the chrysalis of a locust.</p> - - <p>The one change entailed another; for many years—until, indeed, the - button habit had become<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span> invincible—it did not occur to any of the - fair sex that the hook-and-eye could be used in front as well as - surreptitiously behind the back. That truth has now penetrated the - female mind and sometimes warms it into action: but for the most part - lovely woman is infested with the parasitic button as badly as the male - of her species, and of neither does it manifest a disposition to let - go. It has usually its buttonhole to bear it company, and doubtless - looks forward to a long season of domestic felicity and profound repose - while engaged in the business of breaking up families and promoting - breaches of the peace by sapping the foundation of temper, leveling the - outworks of patience and desolating the whole domain of the Christian - virtues.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span> - <h3 id="SLEEP">SLEEP</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">IT is hardly a “burning question”; it is not even a “problem that - presses for solution.” Nevertheless, to minds not incurious as to the - future it has a mild, pleasing interest, like that of the faintly heard - beating of the bells of distant cows that will come in and demand - attention later.</p> - - <p>It by no means appears that sleep is a natural function, the necessity - of which inheres in animal life and the constitution of things; - there is reason to regard it as a phenomenon due rather to stress of - circumstances—a kind of intermittent disorder incurred by exposure - to conditions that are being slowly but surely removed. Precisely - as sanitary and medical science and improved methods of living are - gradually extending the length of human life in every civilized country - and threatening the king of shadows himself with death ere, in the - poet’s sense, “Time shall throw a dart” at him, so we may observe - already the initial stages of a successful campaign against his brother - “Sleep.” Civilized peoples sleep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span> fewer hours than savage ones, and, - among the civilized, dwellers in cities fewer than country folk. The - reason is not far to seek: it is a matter of light.</p> - - <p>Primitive Man, like the savage of to-day, had at night no other light - than that of the moon and that of wood fires. For countless ages our - ancestors lived without candles, and when they had learned the trick - of burning rushes soaked in the fat of neighboring tribesmen their - state was not greatly better. Beyond Primitive Man we may dimly discern - <i>his</i> ancestors—unmentionable to ears un-Darwinized—who had no - artificial light at all. In the darkness of the night and the forest - what could these ancient worthies do? They had little enough to do at - any time, but even their rudest pursuit—that of one another—could not - be carried on in darkness. They did nothing, naturally assuming the - most comfortable posture in which to do it, the earlier sort suspending - themselves by their tails, the later, having no tails, lying down as - we do to-day, or rather to-night. It is a law of nature that when the - body, or any organ of it, is inactive a kind of torpor ensues; the - blood circulates in it with a more feeble flow; molecular changes take - place with a lessened<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span> energy—in short, the creature begins to die, and - can be restored to full life only by renewal of bodily activity. In the - instance of the brain this torpor means unconsciousness—that is to say, - sleep. To put the matter briefly, darkness compels inaction, inaction - begets sleep.</p> - - <p>Another law of nature—a rather comical one—is that acts which we do - regularly, from choice or necessity, set up a tendency in us to do them - involuntarily when we don’t care to; and when the original impulse - has been replaced by this new and more imperative one we give it the - name of habit and flatter ourselves that we have explained it. Because - our pithecanthropoid and autocthonic forefathers, unable by reason of - darkness to indulge during the whole twenty-four hours in the one-sided - pleasures of the chase and the mutual joy of braining one another, had - to sleep, <i>we</i> have to sleep; although we have (by paying sorely - for it) plenty of light for many kinds of malign activity.</p> - - <p>But little by little we are overcoming the sleep habit without loss of - health, if not with positive sanitary advantage. As before pointed out, - the people of our lighted cities sleep less than the rural population; - and this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span> sleeps less than it did before the improvement in lamps. - Nothing is more certain, despite popular opinion to the contrary, - than that the men of cities are superior in strength and endurance to - those of the country, as is abundantly attested in army life, in camp - and field. That this is wholly or even greatly due to their nocturnal - activity is not affirmed; only that their addiction to the joys of - insomnia has not appreciably counteracted the sanitary advantages of - city life—amongst which an honorable prominence should be given to - defective drainage and drinking-water that is largely solution of dog - and hydrate of husband from the city reservoir.</p> - - <p>The electric light has apparently “come to stay,” but more likely it - will in good time be replaced by something that as far exceeds it as - itself beats the hallowed tallow candle of our grandmothers. Not only - will the streets and shops and dwellings of our cities be illuminated - all night with a splendor of which we can have hardly a conception, - but the country districts as well; for it is now known that plants - (which apparently are not creatures of habit) do not need sleep, and - that by continuous light the profits of agriculture could be enormously - increased. The farmers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span> will no longer retire with the lark, but will - work night shifts, as is already done in factories and mines, and - eventually work all the time, in order to support the rest of us in the - style to which we have been accustomed.</p> - - <p>On the whole, I think it not unreasonable to look forward with - pleasant anticipation to a time, some millions of years hence, when - the literature of sleep will be no longer intelligible, and the people - of even this country be sufficiently wide awake to prevent the ten - <i>per centum</i> of their number devoted to patriotic pursuits from - plundering the other ninety <i>per centum</i>, and to make our judges - and legislators obey the laws.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span> - <h3 id="CONCERNING_PICTURES">CONCERNING PICTURES</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">I HOLD with Story and others whose talents and accomplishments so - brilliantly illustrate their faith, that the great artist is almost - necessarily a man of high attainments in general knowledge and in - more than one branch of art. He who knows but one art knows none. The - Muses do not singly disclose themselves; for the favor of one you - must sue to all. Consider the great Italian painters, from Angelo and - Rafael down the line of merit to the modern masters. As a rule they - were men of wisdom, accomplished in all the learning of their time. - They were statesmen, scientists, engineers—men of affairs. They knew - literature, architecture, sculpture and music, as well as painting. - With here and there a notable exception—more notable as an exception - than as a painter—the same is true in many a country besides Italy, and - many an age besides that in which the genius of her sons kindled the - imperishable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span> splendor that burns about her name.</p> - - <p>Perception is not the same as discernment, and he who sees with his - eyes only will paint with nothing but his hand. Ruskin says the - artist is the man who knows “what is going on.” To him the primrose - is a primrose and something more—a primrose plus what it is doing, - saying, thinking, and what is being done, said, thought by its whole - environment. The great artist makes everything live; he gives to death - itself and desolation a personality and a breathing soul. The rooted - rock could move if it wished; trees understand one another; the river - is prescient of the sea. Not a pebble, not a grass-blade but is alert - with a significant life to further the general conspiracy.</p> - - <p>Understand me. This activity is entirely distinct from muscular action, - locomotion, motion of any kind or any of the coarser sorts of energy - flagrantly depicted. The portrait of a corpse may be full of it, the - picture of a bounding horse altogether destitute.</p> - - <p>Everything in nature—every single object, every group, every landscape, - has a visible expression, as a face has. This can generally be denoted - in terms of human emotion. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span> all know what is meant by an “angry” - sky or a “threatening” billow, for we have observed what follows. But - we are not all equally sensitive to the joyous aspect of a tree, the - sulking of a rock, the menace or the benediction that may speak from a - hillside, the reticence of one building and the garrulity of another, - the pathos of a blank window, the tendernesses and the terrors that - smile and glower everywhere about us. These are no fancies. True, they - are but the outward and visible signs of an inner mood; but the objects - that bear them beget the mood. No true artist but feels it, and all - feel it nearly alike. To discern, to feel, to seize upon this dominant - expression and make it predominant in his picture—this, as Taine - rightly says, is the painter’s function.</p> - - <p>I stood once upon the slope of a deep gulch; with me a friend, the - quick certainty of whose artistic insight was always to me a source - of surprise and delight. Across the gulch, a quarter-mile away, stood - two trees, a giant oak, whose great roots corded the rocks like the - tentacles of a devil-fish, and a slender pine, springing from clear - ground nearby. The oak reached out a long, muscular arm toward the - other tree, which, leaning sharply<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span> away from the contact, had all its - branches on the opposite side. I studied the group for some minutes - while my friend had her eyes and thoughts elsewhere. I was endeavoring - to interpret the sentiment, which finally I succeeded in doing to my - satisfaction; it remained only to test the validity of my conclusion. - I said to myself: “Menace and terror”; to my companion: “What is the - matter over yonder?” She glanced at the group and replied, without an - instant’s hesitation, in the first words that came to call: “The little - tree is trying to get away from the old scoundrel among the rocks.”</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>The terrible story is told of how the late W. H. Vanderbilt came near - being cheated out of three hundred thousand dollars by purchasing a - painting that was no better than it looked! From that imminent peril - he was rescued by death. The painting, it seems, was discovered (where - it had not been lost) by a person—nay, a parson—named Nicole, who gave - his personal assurance that it was a Rafael. It must have looked a good - deal like a Rafael, for although it was for a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span> time an object of - adoration for artist pilgrims from all over Europe, none detected its - spurious character. That is clear from the facts that it was later that - Mr. Vanderbilt agreed to take it, and that while negotiations were - going on Herr Nicole borrowed twelve thousand dollars on it from a - banker who has it yet. That could hardly have been true if the pilgrims - to its shrine at Lausanne had had their transports moderated by a - suspicion that it was not so good as it looked.</p> - - <p>The reader will kindly repress his hilarity. This is no joke. If a - picture can not be better than it looks how does it happen that this - one is not so valuable after the exposure as it was before? The notion - that a picture <i>can</i> be better or worse than it looks does seem - absurd when one stops to think about it. It is not original with me; - the late Bill Nye once set the country smiling by solemnly explaining - that he had been told that Wagner’s music was better than it sounded.</p> - - <p>But why did we laugh? We do not laugh when a wealthy “patron of - art,” or a paternal government pays an enormous price for a painting - <i>because</i> it is pronounced by experts to be a genuine work of a - famous “old master.” And we do not laugh—not all of us—when,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span> as in - the present instance, the value drops to nearly nothing because the - painting proves to be a copy only, or the work of an unknown hand.</p> - - <p>I am no artist—Heaven forbid!—nor even a connoisseur. If I were I - should doubtless understand why a copy that is as beautiful as an - original is not so desirable a possession—why it does not give so great - pleasure to the eye and the mind and the heart. I should understand why - the work of an obscure or unknown artist is not so valuable as the work - of a famous artist if it happens to be as good.</p> - - <p>One would suppose—that is, one unacquainted with art might be conceived - as supposing—that the value of a painting would be appraised without - reference to the question: Who made it? It seems (to the unenlightened) - as if it would make no difference what name was borne by the person - that painted it—just as the <i>Iliad</i> or the <i>Odyssey</i> would - be equally pleasing whether written by Homer or by “another man of - the same name,” or another name. I have the hardihood to declare that - it is—and here I am on my own ground. I affirm—nay, “swear tiptoed - with lifted hand”—that the pleasure of any reasonable man in reading - “Ossian” is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span> not abated by knowledge that the author was Macpherson; - that to a sane judgment the “Rowley” poems are altogether as delightful - as if the secret of their composition had been carried into the next - world by little Chatterton when “he perished in his pride.” What is - it to me, or to you, if the Shakspeare plays were written by Bacon? - We have the plays; let us read and be thankful. Shakspeare and Bacon - may fight it out in Elysium, with Ignatius Donnelly as umpire; of the - decision, “it boots not to inquire.”</p> - - <p>If that is the mental attitude of the true lover of letters, and it is, - why is the true lover of art differently constituted, if he is? Why are - “the still vexed Bermoothes” of his soul still vexed? Why can not he - make up his mind that a work of art is good, or is bad, and let it go - at that, serenely unconcerned about the “irrelevant, incompetent and - immaterial” babble of the experts in authenticity?</p> - - <p>Being ignorant, I thank Heaven for the existence of artists obscure - by fortune or by choice, skilful enough to imitate in line or style - the work of the great and famous painters. For gratification of my own - eye I would as lief see and possess their work as the work that they - imitate. So would anybody—for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span> gratification of his own eye. For pigly - satisfaction of owning something denied to one’s neighbor; something - rare because death has stopped the supply; something to be triumphantly - shown to one’s visitors in the hope of exciting some of the baser - passions of the human heart, such as covetousness, envy and the - like—for such “satisfaction and refined delight” one would of course - prefer an original “old master” and be willing to pay a pretty penny - for gratification of the preference.</p> - - <p>Some wicked man has said that an artist has sensibility, but no sense. - I fancy that is not so, but finding artists pretty generally concerned - with questions of the “genuineness” of “canvases”—that is to say, - pretty generally assenting to the proposition that a picture can be - better or worse than it looks—I am sometimes tormented by doubt.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span> - <h3 id="MODERN_WARFARE">MODERN WARFARE</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE dream of a time when the nations shall war no more is a pleasant - dream, and an ancient. Countless generations have indulged it, and to - countless others, doubtless, it will prove a solace and a benefaction. - Yet one may be permitted to doubt if its ultimate realization is to - be accomplished by diligent and general application to the task of - learning war, as so many worthy folk believe. That every notable - advance in the art of destroying human life should be “hailed” by these - good people as a step in the direction of universal peace must be - accounted a phenomenon entirely creditable to the hearts, if not to the - heads, of those in whom it is manifest. It shows in them a constitution - of mind opposed to bloodshed, for their belief having nothing to do - with the facts—being, indeed, inconsistent with them—is obviously an - inspiration of the will.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span></p> - - <p>“War,” these excellent persons reason, “will at last become so dreadful - that men will no longer engage in it”—happily unconscious of the fact - that men’s sense of their power to make it dreadful is precisely the - thing which most encourages them to wage it. Another popular promise - of peace is seen in the enormous cost of modern armaments and military - methods. The shot and cartridge of a heavy gun of to-day cost hundreds - of dollars, the gun itself tens of thousands. It is at an expense of - thousands that a torpedo is discharged, which may or may not wreck a - ship worth millions. To secure its safety from the machinations of its - wicked neighbors while itself engaged in the arts of peace, a nation - of to-day must have an immense sum of money invested in military - plant alone. It is not of the nature of man to impoverish himself - by investments from which he hopes for no return except security in - the condition entailed by the outlay. Men do not construct expensive - machinery, taxing themselves poor to keep it in working order, without - ultimately setting it going. The more of its income a nation has to - spend in preparation for war, the more certainly it will go to war. - Its means of defense are means of aggression, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span> stronger it - feels itself to strike for its altars and its fires, the more spirited - becomes its desire to go across the border to upset the altars and - extinguish the fires of its neighbors.</p> - - <p>But the notion that improved weapons give modern armies and navies an - increased killing ability—that the warfare of the future will be a - bloodier business than that which we have the happiness to know—is an - error which the observant lover of peace is denied the satisfaction - of entertaining. Compare, for example, a naval engagement of to-day - with Salamis, Lepanto or Trafalgar. Compare the famous duel between - the <i>Monitor</i> and the <i>Merrimac</i> with almost any encounter - between the old wooden line-of-battle ships, continued, as was the - reprehensible custom, until one or both, with hundreds of dead and - wounded, incarnadined the seas by going to the bottom.</p> - - <p>As long ago as 1861 a terrific engagement occurred in the harbor of - Charleston, South Carolina. It lasted forty hours, and was fought with - hundreds of the biggest and best guns of the period. Not a man was - killed nor wounded.</p> - - <p>In the spring of 1862, below New Orleans, Porter’s mortar boats - bombarded Fort Jackson<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span> for nearly five days and nights, throwing - about 16,800 shells, mostly thirteen inches in diameter. “Nearly - every shell,” says the commandant of the fort, “lodged inside the - works.” Even in those days, it will be observed, there were “arms of - precision”; and an exploding 13-inch shell is still highly esteemed and - respected. As nearly as I can learn, the slaughter amounted to two men.</p> - - <p>A year later Admiral Dupont attacked Fort Sumter, then in the hands - of the Confederates, with the <i>New Ironsides</i>, the double-turret - monitor <i>Keokuk</i>, and seven single-turret monitors. The big guns - of the fort were too much for him. One of his vessels was struck 90 - times, and afterward sank. Another was struck 53 times; another, 35 - times; another, 14; another, 47; another, 20; another, 47; another, - 95; another, 36, and disabled. But they threw 151 shots from their own - “destructive” weapons, and these, being “arms of precision,” killed a - whole man by cutting down a flag-staff, which fell upon him. The total - number of shots fired by the enemy was 2,209, and more than two men - were killed by them I am unable to find any account of it. But it was a - splendid battle, as every Quaker will allow!</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span></p> - - <p>In the stubbornest land engagements of our great rebellion, and of - the later and more scientific Franco-German and Turko-Russian wars, - the proportionate mortality was not nearly so great as in those where - “Greek met Greek” hand to hand, or where the Roman with his short - sword, the most destructive weapon ever invented, played at give and - take with the naked barbarian or the Roman of another political faith. - True, we must make some allowance for exaggeration in the accounts of - these ancient affairs, not forgetting Niebuhr’s assurance that Roman - history is nine parts lying. But as European and American history run - it pretty hard in respect of that, something, too, may be allowed in - accounts of modern battles—particularly where the historian foots up - the losses of the side which had not the military advantage of his - sympathies.</p> - - <p>Improvements in guns, armor, fortification and shipbuilding have been - pushed so near to perfection that naval and semi-naval engagements may - justly be counted amongst the arts of peace, and must eventually obtain - the medical recognition which is their due as means of sanitation. - The most notable improvements are those in small arms. Our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span> young - scapegrace grandfathers fought the Revolutionary War with so miserable - firearms that they could not make themselves decently objectionable - to the minions of monarchy at a greater distance than forty yards. - They had to go up so close that many of them lost their tempers. With - the modern rifle, incivilities can be carried on at a distance of - a mile-and-a-half, with thin lines and a cheerful disposition. The - dynamite shell has, unfortunately, done much to gloom this sunniness by - suggesting a scattered formation, which makes conversation difficult - and begets loneliness. Isolation leads to suicide, and suicide is - “mortality.” So the dynamite shell is really not the life-saving device - that it looks. But on the whole we seem to be making reasonably good - progress toward that happy time, not when “war shall be no more,” but - when, being healthful, it will be universal and perpetual. The soldier - of the future will die of age; and may God have mercy on his cowardly - soul!</p> - - <p>It has been said that to kill a man in battle a man’s weight in lead - is required. But if the battle happens to be fought by modern warships - or forts, or both, about a hundred tons of iron would seem to be a - reasonable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span> allowance for the making of a military corpse. In fighting - in the open the figures are more cheering. What it cost in our civil - war to kill a Confederate soldier is not accurately computable; we - don’t know exactly how many we had the good luck to kill. But the “best - estimates” are easily accessible.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>In the <i>Century</i> magazine several years ago was a paper on machine - guns and dynamite guns. As might have been expected, it opened with - a prediction by a distinguished general of the Union armies that, so - murderous have warlike weapons become, “the next war will be marked - by terrific and fearful slaughter.” This is naturally followed by - the writer’s smug and comfortable assurance that “in the extreme - mortality of modern war will be found the only hope that man can have - of even a partial cessation of war.” If this were so, let us see how - it would work. The chronological sequence of events would necessarily - (obviously, one would think) be something like this:</p> - - <p>1. Murderous perfection of warlike weapons.</p> - - <p>2. War marked by “terrific and fearful slaughter.”</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span></p> - - <p>3. Consequent cessation of war and disarmament of nations.</p> - - <p>4. Stoppage of the manufacture of military weapons, with resulting - decay of dependent industries; that is to say, decay of the ability - to produce the weapons. Diversion of intellectual activity to arts of - peace.</p> - - <p>5. War no longer capable of being marked by “terrific and fearful - slaughter.” <i>Ergo</i>,</p> - - <p>6. Revival of war.</p> - - <p>All the armies and navies of the world are being equipped with more - and more “destructive” weapons. But does this insure a “terrific - and fearful slaughter” in battle? Assuredly not. It implies and - necessitates profound modifications in tactical formations and - movements—modifications similar in kind (though greater in degree) to - those already brought about by the long range repeating rifle and the - improved field artillery. Men are not going to march up in masses and - be mown down by machinery. If the effective range of these guns is, - for example, two miles, tactical maneuvers in the open will be made - at a greater distance from them. The storming of fortifications and - charges in the open ground will go out of fashion. They have, in fact, - been growing more and more infrequent ever since the improvements in - range<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span> and precision of firearms began. If a man who fought under John - Sobieski, Marlborough or the first Napoleon could be haled out of his - obliterated grave and shown a battle of to-day with all our murderous - weapons in full thunder, he would probably knuckle the leaf-mould out - of his eyes and say: “Yes, yes, it is most inspiring!—but where is the - enemy?”</p> - - <p>It is a fact that in the battle of to-day the soldier seldom gets more - than a distant and transitory glimpse of the men whom he is fighting. - He is still supplied with the sabre if he is “horse,” with the bayonet - if he is “foot,” but the value of these weapons is a moral one. When - commanded to draw the one or “fix” the other he knows he is expected - to advance as far as he dares to go; but he knows, too, if he is not - a very raw recruit, that he will not get within sabring or bayoneting - distance of his antagonists—who will either break and run away or - drop so many of his comrades that he will himself break and run away. - In our civil war—and that is very ancient history to the long-range - tactician of to-day—it was my fortune to assist at a sufficing number - of assaults with bayonet and assaults with sabre, but I have never had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span> - the gratification to see a half-dozen men, friends or enemies, who had - fallen by either the one weapon or the other. Whenever the opposing - lines actually met it was the rifle, the carbine, or the revolver - that did the work. In these days of “arms of precision” they do not - meet. There is reason, too, to suspect that, therefore, they do not - “get mad” and execute all the mischief that they are capable of. It is - certain that the machine gun will keep its temper under the severest - provocation.</p> - - <p>Another great improvement in warfare is a mirror or screen which is - placed at the rear of heavy guns, reflecting everything in front. By - means of certain mechanism the gun can be trained upon anything so - reflected. This enables the gunners to keep out of danger in the bottom - of their well and so live to a green old age. The advantage to them - is considerable and too obvious to require exposition to anyone but - an agnostic; but whether in the long run their country will find any - profit in preserving the lives of men who are afraid to die for it—that - is another matter. It might be better to incur the expense entailed by - having relays of men to be killed in battle than to try to win battles - with men who know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span> nothing of the spirit, enthusiasm and heroism that - come of peril.</p> - - <p>All mechanical devices tend to make cowards of those whom they protect. - Men long accustomed to the security of even such slight earthworks - as are thrown up by armies operating against each other in the open - country lose something out of their general efficiency. The particular - thing that they lose is courage. In long sieges the sallies and - assaults are commonly feeble, spiritless affairs, easily repelled. So - manifestly does a soldier’s comparative safety indispose him to incur - even such perils as beset him in it that during the last years of our - civil war, when it was customary for armies in the field to cover their - fronts with breastworks, many intelligent officers, conceding the need - of some protection, yet made their works much slighter than was easily - possible. Except when the firing was heavy, close and continuous, - “head-logs” (for example) for the men to fire under were distinctly - demoralizing. The soldier who has least security is least reluctant to - forego what security he has. That is to say, he is the bravest.</p> - - <p>Right sensibly General Miles once tried to call a halt in the progress - of military extravagance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span> by condemning our enormous expenditures - for “disappearing guns.” The delicate and complicated mechanism for - pointing and lowering the gun will break down when it is in action - and deteriorate like a fish on the beach when it is not. During the - long decades of peace it will need expert attention, exercise enough - to wear it out, and constant renewal of its parts. The only merit of - these absurd Jack-in-the-box guns is their bankrupting cost. If we can - fool less wealthy nations into adopting them we shall have whatever - advantage accrues to the longest purse in a contest of purses. So - far, all other nations, rich and poor alike, have shown a thrifty - indisposition to engage in the peaceful strife.</p> - - <p>We are told with, on the whole, sufficient reiteration, that this is - an age and this a country of “marvelous invention,” of “scientific - machinery,” and the rest of it. We accept the statement without - question, as the people of every former age have without question - believed it of themselves. God forbid that anyone should close his - ears to the cackle of his generation when it has laid its daily egg! - Nevertheless, there are things that mechanical ingenuity can not - profitably produce. One<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span> of them is the disappearing gun, another the - combination stop-watch and tack hammer.</p> - - <p>Americans must learn, preferably in time of peace, that no people has a - monopoly of ingenuity and military aptitude. Great wars of the future, - like great wars of the past, will be conducted with an intelligence and - knowledge common to both belligerents, and with such appliances as both - possess. The art of attack and the art of defense will balance each - other as now, any advance in the first being always promptly met with a - corresponding advance in the second. Genius is of no country; it is not - peculiar to the United States.</p> - - <p>It is not to be doubted that if it should be discovered that silver is - a better gun metal than any now in use, and some ingenious scoundrel - should invent a diamond-pointed shell of superior penetrating power, - these “weapons of precision and efficiency” would be adopted by all - the military powers. Their use would at least produce a gratifying - mortality among civilians who pay military appropriations; so something - would be gained. The purpose of modern artillery appears to be - slaughter of the taxpayer behind the gun.</p> - - <p>If fifty years ago the leading nations of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span> Europe and America had - united in making invention of offensive and defensive devices a - capital crime, they would during all this intervening time have been - on relatively the same military footing that they now are, and would - have been spared an expenditure of a mountain of money. In the mad - competition for primacy in war power not one of them has gained any - permanent advantage; the entire benefit of the “improvements” has gone - to the clever persons who have thought them out and been permitted to - patent them. Until these are forbidden by law to eat cake in the sweat - of the taxpayer’s face we must continue to clutch our purse and tremble - at their power. We are willing to admire their ingenuity, cheer their - patriotism and envy their lack of heart, but it would be better to take - them from their arms of precision to those of the public hangman.</p> - - <p>The military inventor is said now to have thought out a missile that - will make a hole in any practicable armor plate as easily as you can - put a hot knife through a pat of butter. From all that can be learned - by way of the fan-light over the door of official secrecy it appears - to be a pointed steel bolt greased with graphite. Its performances - are said to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span> eminently satisfactory to the man behind the patent, - who is confident that it will serve the purpose of its being by - penetrating the United States Treasury. Well, here at least is “an - improvement in weapons of destruction,” to which the non-militant - taxpayer can accord a hearty welcome. If it is really irresistible to - armor, armor to resist it will go out of use and ships again “fight - in their shirtsleeves.” It will sadden us to renounce the familiar - 550-dollars-a-ton steel plating endeared to us by a thousand tender - recollections of the assessment rate, but time heals all earthly - sorrow, and eventually we shall renew our joy in the blue of the skies, - the fragrance of the flowers, the dew-spangled meadows, the fluting - and warbling and trilling of the politicians. In the meantime, while - awaiting our perfect consolation, we may derive a minor comfort from - the high price of graphite.</p> - - <p>When in personal collision, or imminent expectation of it, with a - gentleman cherishing the view that one is needless, one’s attention - does not wander from the business in hand to dwell upon the lilies and - languors of peace. One is interested in the proceedings, and if he - survive them experiences in the retrospection a pleasure that was not - discernible in the returning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span> brave from the land where the Mauser and - the Kraag-Jorgensen conversed amicably without visible human agency - across a space of two statute miles. Crouching in the grass, under an - afflicting Spanish fire from somewhere, our soldiers at San Juan Hill - felt it a great hardship to be “decimated” in so inglorious a skirmish. - They did not know, poor fellows, that they were fighting a typical - modern battle. When, the situation having become intolerable, their - two divisions had charged and carried the trenches of the two or three - hundred Spaniards opposed to them, they had leisure to amend their - conception of war as a picturesque and glorious game.</p> - - <p>In the elder day, before the invention of the Whitehead torpedo and - the high-power gun, the wooden war vessels of the period used to ram - each other, lie alongside, grapple, jam their guns into each other’s - ports, and send swarms of half-naked boarders on each other’s deck, - where they fought breast to breast and foot to foot like heroes. Dr. - Johnson described a sea voyage as “close confinement with a chance of - being drowned.” The sailor-militant has always experienced that double - disadvantage with the added chance of being smashed and burned. But - formerly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span> the rigors of his lot were ameliorated by a sight of his - enemy and by some small opportunity of distinction in the neighborhood - of that gentleman’s throat. To-day he is denied the pleasure of - meeting him—never even so much as sees him unless fortunate enough to - make him take to his boats. As opportunity for personal adventure and - distinction a modern sea-fight is considerably inferior to a day in the - penitentiary. Like a land-fight, it has enough of danger to keep the - men awake, but for variety and excitement it is inferior to a combat - between an isosceles triangle and the fourth dimension.</p> - - <p>When the patriot’s heart is duly fired by his newspaper and his - politician he will probably enlist henceforth, as he has done - heretofore, and be as ready to assist in covering the enemy’s half of - the landscape with a rain of bullets, falling where it shall please - Heaven, as his bellicose ancestor was to meet the foeman in the flesh - and engage him in personal combat; but it will be a stupid business, - despite all that the special correspondent can do for its celebration - by verbal fireworks. Tales of the “firing line” emanating from the - chimney corner of the future will urge the young male afield with a - weaker<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span> suasion. By the way, I do not remember to have heard the term - “firing line” during our civil war. We had the thing, of course, but - it did not last long enough (except in siege operations, when it was - called something else) to get a name. Troops on the “firing line” - either held their fire until the enemy signified a desire for it by - coming to get it, or they themselves advanced and served him with it - where he stood.</p> - - <p>I should not like to say that this is an age of human cowardice; I say - only that the men of all civilized nations are taking a deal of pains - to invent offensive weapons that will wield themselves and defenses - that can take the place of the human breast. A modern battle is a - quarrel of skulkers trying to have all the killing done a long way from - their persons. They will attack at a distance; they will defend if - inaccessible. As much of the fighting as possible is done by machinery, - preferably automatic. When we shall so have perfected our arms of - precision and other destructive weapons that they will need no human - agency to start and keep them going, war will be foremost among the - arts of peace.</p> - - <p>Meantime it is still a trifle perilous, sometimes fatal; those who - practice it must expect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span> bloody noses and cracked crowns. It may - be to the advantage of our countrymen to know that if they have no - forethought but thrift they can have no safety but peace; that in the - school of emergency nothing is taught but how to weep; that there - are no effective substitutes for courage and devotion. America’s - best defenses are the breasts of American soldiers and the brains of - American commanders. Confidence in any “revolutionizing” device is a - fatal faith.</p> - - <p>1899.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span> - <h3 id="CHRISTMAS_AND_THE_NEW_YEAR">CHRISTMAS AND THE NEW YEAR</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">IN our manner of observing Christmas there is much, no doubt, that is - absurd. Christmas is to some extent a day of meaningless ceremonies, - false sentiment and hollow compliments endlessly iterated and - misapplied. The observances “appropriate to the day” had, many of them, - their origin in an age with which our own has little in common and in - countries whose social and religious characteristics were unlike those - obtaining here. As in so many other matters, America has in this been - content to take her heritage without inquiry and without alteration, - sacredly preserving much that once had a meaning now lost, much that is - now an anachronism, a mere “survival.” Even to the Christmas vocabulary - we have added little. St. Nicholas himself, the patron saint of - deceived children, still masquerades under the Spanish feminine title - of “Santa” and the German nickname of “Claus.” The back of our American - coal grate is still idealized as a “yule log,” and the English “holly”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span> - is supposed in most cases fitly to be shadowed forth by a cedar bough, - while a comparatively innocuous but equally inedible indigenous - comestible figures as the fatal English “plum pudding.” Nearly all our - Christmas literature is, <i>longo intervallo</i>, European in spirit - and Dickensish in form. In short, we have Christmas merely because we - were in the line of succession. We have taken it as it was transmitted, - and we try to make the worst of it.</p> - - <p>The approach of the season is apparent in the manner of the friend or - relative whose orbs furtively explore your own, seeking a sign of what - you are going to give him; in the irrepressible solicitations of babes - and cloutlings; in wild cascades of such literature as <i>Greenleaf - on Evidence, for Boys</i> (“Boot-Leg” series), <i>The Little Girls’ - Illustrated Differential Calculus</i> and <i>Aunt Hetty’s Rabelais</i>, - in words of one syllable. Most clearly is the advent of the blessed - anniversary manifest in maddening iteration of the greeting wherein, - with a precision that never by any chance mistakes its adjective, you - are wished a “merry” Christmas by the same person who a week later - will be making ninety-nine “happies” out of a possible hundred<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span> in - New Year greetings similarly insincere and similarly insufferable. - It is unknown to me why a Christmas should be always merry but never - happy, and why the happiness appropriate to the New Year should not - be expressed in merriment. These be mysteries in whose penetration - abundance of human stupidity might be disclosed. By the time that one - has been wished a “merry Christmas” or a “happy New Year” some scores - of times in the course of a morning walk, by persons who he knows care - nothing about either his merriment or his happiness, he is disposed, - if he is a person of right feeling, to take a pessimist view of the - “compliments of the season” and of the season of compliments. He - cherishes, according to disposition, a bitter animosity or a tolerant - contempt toward his race. He relinquishes for another year his hope of - meeting some day a brilliant genius or inspired idiot who will have the - intrepidity to vary the adjective and wish him a “happy Christmas” or - a “merry New Year”; or with an even more captivating originality, keep - his mouth shut.</p> - - <p>As to the sum of sincerity and genuine good will that utters itself - in making and accepting gifts (the other distinctive feature of - holiday<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span> time) statistics, unhappily, are wanting and estimates - untrustworthy. It may reasonably be assumed that the custom, though - largely a survival—gifts having originally been given in a propitiatory - way by the weak to the powerful—is something more; the present of a - goggle-eyed doll from a man six feet high to a baby twenty-nine inches - long not being lucidly explainable by assumption of an interested - motive.</p> - - <p>To the children the day is delightful and instructive. It enables them - to see their elders in all the various stages of interesting idiocy, - and teaches them by means of the Santa Claus deception that exceedingly - hard liars may be good mothers and fathers and miscellaneous - relatives—thus habituating the infant mind to charitable judgment and - establishing an elastic standard of truth that will be useful in their - later life.</p> - - <p>The annual recurrence of the “carnival of crime” at Christmas has - been variously accounted for by different authorities. By some it is - supposed to be a providential dispensation intended to heighten the - holiday joys of those who are fortunate enough to escape with their - lives. Others attribute it to the lax morality consequent upon the - demand for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span> presents, and still others to the remorse inspired by - consciousness of ruinous purchases. It is affirmed by some that persons - deliberately and with malice aforethought put themselves in the way of - being killed, in order to avert the tiresome iteration of Christmas - greetings. If this is correct, the annual Christmas “holocaust” is not - an evil demanding abatement, but a blessing to be received in a spirit - of devout and pious gratitude.</p> - - <p>When the earth in its eternal circumgression arrives at the point - where it was at the same time the year before, the sentimentalist whom - Christmas has not exhausted of his essence squeezes out his pitiful - dreg of emotion to baptize the New Year withal. He dusts and polishes - his aspirations, and reërects his resolve, extracting these well-worn - properties from the cobwebby corners of his moral lumber-room, whither - they were relegated three hundred and sixty-four days before. He - “swears off.” In short, he sets the centuries at defiance, breaks the - sequence of cause and effect, repeals the laws of nature and makes - himself a new disposition from a bit of nothing left over at the - creation of the universe. He can not add an inch to his stature, but - thinks he can add a virtue to his character.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span> He can not shed his - nails, but believes he can renounce his vices. Unable to eradicate a - freckle from his skin, he is confident he can decree a habit out of his - conduct. An improvident friend of mine writes upon his mirror with a - bit of soap the cabalistic word, AFAHMASP. This is the <i>fiat lux</i> - to create the shining virtue of thrift, for it means, A Fool And His - Money Are Soon Parted. What need have we of morality’s countless - ministries; the complicated machinery of the church; recurrent - suasions of precept and unceasing counsel of example; pursuing din of - homily; still, small voice of solicitude and inaudible argument of - surroundings—if one may make of himself what he will with a mirror and - a bit of soap? But (it may be urged) if one can not reform himself, how - can he reform others? Dear reader, let us have a frank understanding. - He can not.</p> - - <p>The practice of inflating the midnight steam-shrieker and belaboring - the nocturnal ding-dong to frighten the encroaching New Year is - obviously ineffectual, and might profitably be discontinued. It is - no whit more sensible and dignified than the custom of savages who - beat their sounding dogs to scare away an eclipse. If one elect to - live with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span> barbarians, one must endure the barbarous noises of their - barbarous superstitions, but the disagreeable simpleton who sits up - till midnight to ring a bell or fire a gun because the earth has - arrived at a given point in its orbit should nevertheless be deprecated - as an enemy to his race. He is a sore trial to the feelings, an - affliction almost too sharp for endurance. If he and his sentimental - abettors might be melted and cast into a great bell, every right-minded - man would derive an innocent delight from pounding it, not only on - January first but all the year long.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span> - <h3 id="ON_PUTTING_ONES_HEAD_INTO_ONES_BELLY">ON PUTTING ONE’S HEAD INTO ONE’S BELLY</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">MR. HENRY HOLT, a publisher, has uttered his mind at no inconsiderable - length in deprecation of what he calls “the commercialization of - literature.” That literature, in this country and England at least, has - somewhat fallen from its high estate and is regarded even by many of - its purveyors as a mere trade is unfortunately true, as we see in the - genesis and development of the “literary syndicates”; in the unholy - alliance between the book reviewer and the head of the advertising - department; in the systematic “booming” of certain books and authors - by methods, both supertabular and submanual, not materially different - from those used for the promotion of a patent medicine; in the reverent - attitude of editors and publishers toward authors of “best sellers,” - and in more things than can be here set down. In the last century when, - surely by no fortuitous happening, American literature was made by such - men as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span> Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Poe, Emerson, Whittier, Hawthorne, - Longfellow, Holmes and Lowell, these purely commercial phenomena - were in less conspicuous evidence and some of them were altogether - indiscernible.</p> - - <p>That the period of literature’s commercialization should be that of - its decay is obviously more than a coincidence. Mr. Holt observes - both, and is sad, but <i>that</i> is a coincidence pure and simple: - his melancholy is due to something else. The “commercialization” is - confessedly compelling him to do a good deal more advertising than - he likes to pay for; for commerce spells competition. The authors - of to-day and their agents have acquired the disagreeable habit of - taking their wares to the highest bidder—the publisher who will give - the highest royalties and the broadest publicity. The immemorial - relation whereby the publisher was said to drink wine out of the - author’s skull has been rudely disturbed by the latter demanding some - of the wine for himself and refusing to supply the skull—an irritating - infraction of a good understanding sanctified by centuries of faithful - observance. It is only natural that Mr. Holt, being a conservative man - and a protagonist of established order, should experience some of the - emotions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span> appropriate to the defenders in a servile insurrection.</p> - - <p>With a candor that is most becoming, Mr. Holt expressly bewails the - passing of the old régime—the departed days when authors “had other - resources” than authorship. This is the second time that it has been - my melancholy privilege to hear the head of a prosperous American - publishing house make this moan. Another one, a few years ago, in - addressing a company of authors, solemnly advised them to have some - means of support additional to writing. I was not then, and am not now, - assured that publishers find it necessary to have any means of support - additional to publishing.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span> - <h3 id="THE_AMERICAN_CHAIR">THE AMERICAN CHAIR</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">A LONDON philosopher was once pleased to remark that the American habit - of sitting on the middle of the back with the feet elevated might in - time profoundly alter the American physical structure, producing a - race having its type in the Bactrian camel. If “our cousins across - the water” understood this matter they would not adopt the flippant - tone toward us that they now do, but in place of ridicule would bestow - compassion. Before endeavoring to clear away the misconceptions - surrounding the subject, so as to let in upon ourselves the holy light - of British sympathy I must explain that the practice of sitting in the - manner which the British philosopher somewhat inaccurately describes - is confined mostly to the males of our race; the American woman will - not, I trust, partake of the structural modification foreseen by the - scientific eye, but remain, as now, simply and sweetly dromedarian. - True, Nature may punish her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span> for being found in bad company, but at - the first stroke of the lash she will doubtless forsake us and seek - sanctuary in the companionship of that bolt-upright vertebrate, the - English nobleman.</p> - - <p>The national peculiarity which, one is sorry to observe, provokes - nothing but levity in the British mind—and British levity is no light - affliction—is not our fault but our misfortune. Like every other - people, we Americans are the slaves of those who serve us. Not one - of us in a thousand (so busy are we in “subduing the wilderness” and - guarding our homes against the Redskins) has leisure to plan and - order his surroundings; and to the few whom Fortune has favored with - leisure she has denied the means. We take everything ready-made—our - houses, grounds, carriages, furniture and all. In some of these things - Providence has by special interposition introduced new designs and - revived old ones, but in most of them there is neither change nor the - shadow of turning. They are to-day what they were a century ago, and - a century hence will be what they are to-day. The chair-maker, for - example, is the obscure intelligence and indirigible energy that his - grandfather was before him: the American chair maintains<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span> through the - ages its bad eminence as an instrument of torture. Time can not wither - nor custom stale its infinite malevolence. The type of the species is - the familiar hard-pan chair of the kitchen; in the dining-room this has - been deplaced by the “splint-bottom,” and in the parlor by an armed - and upholstered abomination which tempts us to session only to turn - to ashes, as it were, upon our bodies. They are essentially the same - old chair—worthy descendants of the original Adam of Chairs, created - from a block in the image of its maker’s head. The American chair is - never made to measure; it is supposed to fit anybody and be universally - applicable.</p> - - <p>It is to the American chair that we must look for the genesis and - rationale of the American practice of shelving the American feet on the - most convenient dizzy eminence. We naturally desire as little contact - with the chair as possible, so we touch it with the acutest angle that - we are able to achieve. The feet must rest somewhere, and a place must - be found for them. It is admitted that the mantel, the sideboard, the - window-sill, the <i>escritoire</i> and the dining table (at least - during meals) are not good places; but <i>que voulez vous</i>?—the - chairmakers have not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span> chosen to invent anything to mitigate the - bitterness of the situation as by their genius for evil they have made it.</p> - - <p>I humbly submit that in all this there is nothing deserving of - ridicule. It is a situation with a pathos of its own, which ought - to appeal strongly to a people suffering so many of the ills of - conservitude, as do the English. It is all very well (to use their own - pet locution) to ask why we do not abolish the American chair, but - really the question ought not to come from a nation that endures <i>Mr. - Punch</i>, pities the House of Lords and embraces that of Hanover. The - American chair was probably divinely designed and sent upon us for - the chastening of our national spirit, and we accept it with the same - reverent submission that distinguishes our English critic in bowing his - neck to the heavy yoke of his own humor.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span> - <h3 id="ANOTHER_COLD_SPELL">ANOTHER “COLD SPELL”</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE late Professor Hayden, a distinguished official of the Coast - Survey, held disquieting views regarding the significance of certain - seismic and meteorological phenomena, or, as they say in English, - earthquakes and storms. It is the professor’s notion that stupendous - changes are going on in the center of the earth. As the human race - does not live in that locality, it may be thought that these changes - are insufficiently important to engage the attention of the public - press. Unfortunately, we are not permitted to entertain that pleasing - illusion, for the learned scientist has traced an obscurely marked, but - indubitable connection between them and the “blizzards” and cyclones of - the Northwest. In a manner not clearly explained, the “central changes” - of which the earthquake is the outward and visible sign, beget also - “a nipping and an eager air” singularly distasteful to the Montana - cattle-grower, and afflict Dakota with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span> that kind of zephyr which, as a - nameless humorist has averred, “just sits on its hind legs and howls.” - Here, again, we are denied the double gratification of seeing the - Northwestern States and Territories devastated and feeling ourselves - secure from the same mischance. Professor Hayden—whose good will is - unquestionable—had no hope of confining these frigorific activities - to the region of their birth and overcoming them by some scientific - <i>coup de main</i>, as the man beat the gout by herding it into his - great toe, then cutting off the toe. No; the “blizzard,” both still and - sparkling, will spread all over the globe with increasing intensity - and vehemence, to the no small discomfort of the unacclimated, though - greatly, no doubt, to the innocent glee of Esquimau, Innuit, Aleut and - other natives of those “thrilling regions”</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Where the playful Polar bear</div> - <div class="i0">Nips the hunter unaware.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>In short, as the professor puts it, “scientific men here and abroad - concur in the opinion that we are approaching an extremely interesting - period.”</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span></p> - - <p>We are not left in doubt as to the precise nature of the disasters - which an “interesting period” may naturally be expected to entail; it - is strongly intimated that the period is to be “another glacial age.” - The one with which we were last favored, not longer ago, according to - some authorities, than a matter of twenty thousand years, appears to - have accomplished its purposes of erosion and extinction imperfectly. - Its vast layers of ice, moving from the Pole toward the Equator, - planed off the surface of the earth so badly that such asperities as - the Rocky Mountains, the Alps and the Himalayas may be supposed to - offend the mechanical eye of Nature and make her desirous to go over - them again. The fact that the now temperate and torrid zones are still - infested by men and other beasts is evidence that the cave-dwellers - of the pre-glacial age were a tougher lot than the good old dame had - supposed. In her next attempt she will probably pile on more ice and - give it a superior momentum, at the same time heralding its southward - encroachment with a temperature that will be such a terror as to turn - the citrus belt white in a single night and drive it out altogether.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span></p> - - <p>Having been encouraged by Professor Hayden to nourish anticipations - of an interesting period pregnant with such pleasing possibilities as - these, we are inexpressibly disappointed to have him say, as he does, - that the operation of the great “central changes” to which we are to be - indebted for all this is so slow that it may be a thousand years, or - even longer, before they get to their work with perceptible efficacy. - Of course one must recognize the stern necessity that dominates the - scientific prophet—he has to carry the fulfilment so far into the - future as to avoid the melancholy fate of short-range prophets, like - Zadkiel; and therein we discern the true difference between the - scientist and the impostor.</p> - - <p>Nevertheless, in a matter of such pith and moment it would have been - agreeable to be permitted to hope that these fascinating events would - begin to occur in our day, and their author (if one may reverently - venture to call him so) would have done a graceful thing if he had so - far departed from the strictly scientific method as to assure us that - some of us, at least, might reasonably expect to be frozen into the - advancing wall of ice, like the famous Siberian mastodon of blessed - memory, and become objects of interest to the possible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span> Haydens of a - later dispensation. As he has denied us the gratification which he - could so cheaply have given to our curiosity and ambition, one feels - justified in denouncing him as a miscreant and a viper.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span> - <h3 id="THE_LOVE_OF_COUNTY">THE LOVE OF COUNTY</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">HISTORIANS, homilists, orators, poets and magazine poets have for ages - been justly extolling the love of country as one of the noblest of - human sentiments; and it has been officially recommended to the fair - members of the Women’s Press Association as an appropriate subject to - write about—as “the vanity of life” was by the good-natured traveler - suggested to the inquiring hermit as a suitable theme for meditation. - Through all the ages has sounded the praise of patriotism, the love of - country. Philanthropy, the love of mankind, is a modern invention—a - newfangled notion with which it is unprofitable to reckon.</p> - - <p>But while the love of country has been so generally and so justly - extolled, too little has been said in praise of that still more highly - concentrated virtue, the love of county. This noble sentiment is even - more nearly general (where there are counties) than the other. That - it is a stronger and more fervent passion<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span> goes without saying. The - natural laws of affection are extremely simple and commonplace. The - human heart has a fixed and definite quantity of affection; no two - have the same quantity, but in each it is definite and incapable of - augmentation. It follows that the more objects it is bestowed upon, the - less each object will get; the more ground it is made to cover, the - more thinly it must be spread out. A woman, for example, cannot love a - child, five dogs, a Japanese teapot, <i>The Ladies’ Weekly Dieaway</i>, - an exquisite shade of lavender and a foreign count any harder than, in - the absence of the other blessings, she could love the child alone. - Similarly, the man whose patriotism embraces the ninety millions of - Americans, Americanesses and Americanettes can care very little for any - one of them; whereas he whose less comprehensive heart takes in the - inhabitants of only a single county must, especially in the sparsely - settled districts, be comparatively enamored of each individual. It - is this that gives to parochialism (it has not been more definitely - named) a dignity altogether superior to that of the diffused sentiment - which the historians, the homilists, orators, poets and newspaper poets - have united in belauding, not without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span> reason, though, in the case of - those last mentioned, commonly without rhyme. In the love of county - the gifted ladies of the Women’s Press Association would find a theme - surpassed in sublimity by but one other, namely the love of township. - Of that sacred passion no uninspired pen would dare to write.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span> - <h3 id="DISINTRODUCTIONS">DISINTRODUCTIONS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE devil is a citizen of every country, but only in our own are we in - constant peril of an introduction to him. That is democracy. All men - are equal; the devil is a man; therefore, the devil is equal. If that - is not a good and sufficient syllogism I should be pleased to know what - is the matter with it.</p> - - <p>To write in riddles when one is not prophesying is too much trouble; - what I am affirming is the horror of the characteristic American custom - of promiscuous, unsought and unauthorized introductions.</p> - - <p>You incautiously meet your friend Smith in the street; if you had been - prudent you would have remained indoors. Your helplessness makes you - desperate and you plunge into conversation with him, knowing entirely - well the disaster that is in cold storage for you.</p> - - <p>The expected occurs: another man comes along and is promptly halted - by Smith and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span> you are introduced! Now, you have not given to the - Smith the right to enlarge your circle of acquaintance and select the - addition himself; why did he do this thing? The person whom he has - condemned you to shake hands with may be an admirable person, though - there is a strong numerical presumption against it; but for all that - the Smith knows he may be your bitterest enemy. The Smith has never - thought of that. Or you may have evidence (independent of the fact of - the introduction) that he is some kind of thief—there are one thousand - and fifty kinds of thieves. But the Smith has never thought of that. - In short, the Smith has never thought. In a Smithocracy all men, as - aforesaid, being equal, all are equally agreeable to one another.</p> - - <p>That is a logical extension of the Declaration of American - Independence. If it is erroneous the assumption that a man will be - pleasing to me because he is pleasing to another is erroneous too, and - to introduce me to one that I have not asked nor consented to know is - an invasion of my rights—a denial and limitation of my liberty to a - voice in my own affairs. It is like determining what kind of clothing I - shall wear, what books I shall read, or what my dinner shall be.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span></p> - - <p>In calling promiscuous introducing an American custom I am not unaware - that it obtains in other countries than ours. The difference is that - in those it is mostly confined to persons of no consequence and no - pretensions to respectability; here it is so nearly universal that - there is no escaping it. Democracies are naturally and necessarily - gregarious. Even the French of to-day are becoming so, and the time - is apparently not distant when they will lose that fine distinctive - social sense that has made them the most punctilious, because the most - considerate, of all nations excepting the Spanish and the Japanese. By - those who have lived in Paris since I did I am told that the chance - introduction is beginning to devastate the social situation, and men of - sense who wish to know as few persons as possible can no longer depend - on the discretion of their friends.</p> - - <p>To say so is not the same thing as to say “Down with the republic!” The - republic has its advantages. Among these is the liberty to say, “Down - with the republic!”</p> - - <p>It is to be wished that some great social force, say a billionaire, - would set up a system of disintroductions. It should work somewhat like - this:</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span></p> - - <p><span class="smcap">Mr. White</span>—Mr. Black, knowing the low esteem in which you hold - each other, I have the honor to disintroduce you from Mr. Green.</p> - - <p><span class="smcap">Mr. Black</span> (<i>bowing</i>)—Sir, I have long desired the - advantage of your unacquaintance.</p> - - <p><span class="smcap">Mr. Green</span> (<i>bowing</i>)—Charmed to unmeet you, sir. Our - acquaintance (the work of a most inconsiderate and unworthy person) has - distressed me beyond expression. We are greatly indebted to our good - friend here for his tact in repairing the mischance.</p> - - <p><span class="smcap">Mr. White</span>—Thank you. I’m sure you will become very good - strangers.</p> - - <p>This is only the ghost of a suggestion; of course the plan is capable - of an infinite elaboration. Its capital defect is that the persons - who are now so liberal with their unwelcome introductions, will be - equally lavish with their disintroductions, and will estrange the best - of friends with as little ceremony as they now observe in their more - fiendish work.</p> - - <p>1902.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span> - <h3 id="THE_TYRANNY_OF_FASHION">THE TYRANNY OF FASHION</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE mindless male of our species is commonly engaged in committing - an indelicate assault upon woman’s taste in dress. He is graciously - pleased to dislike the bright colors that she wears. Her dazzling - headgear, her blinding parasol, her gorgeous frock with its burning - bows and sunset streamers, the iridescence of her neckwear, the radiant - glories of her scarves and the flaming splendor of her hose—these - various and varied brilliances pain the eyes of this weakling, making - him sad. He seems so miserable that it is charity to wish that he had - died when he was little—when he was himself in hue (and cry) a blazing - scarlet.</p> - - <p>Every man to his taste; doubtless mine is barbaric. Anyhow, I like the - rich, bright bravery that the ladies wear. It is not a healthy eye that - is offended by intensity of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span> color. It is not an honest taste that - admires it in a butterfly, a humming bird or a sunset, and derides it - in a woman. Nature is opulent of color; one has to look more than twice - to see what a wealth of brilliant hues are about him, so used to them - have our eyes become. They are everywhere—on the hills, in the air, - the water, the cloud. They float like banners in the sunlight and lurk - in shadows. No artist can paint them; none dares to if he could. The - critics would say he had gone mad and the public would believe them. - And it is wicked to believe a critic.</p> - - <p>Nature has no taste; she makes odious and hideous combinations of tints - that swear at one another like quarreling cats—hues that mutually rend - and slay. She has the unparalleled stupidity to spread a blue sky above - a green plain and draw it down to the horizon, where the two colors - exhaust themselves in debating their differences. To be quite plain - about it, Nature is a dowdy old vulgarian. She has no more taste than - Shakspeare.</p> - - <p>Just as Shakspeare poured out the unassorted jewels of his - inexhaustible understanding—cut, uncut, precious, bogus, crude, - contemptible and superb, all together, so Nature prodigally lavishes - her largess of color. I am<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span> not sure that Shakspeare did not teach her - the trick. Let the ladies, profiting by her bounty, emulate her virtues - and avoid her vice, each having due regard to her own kind of beauty, - and taking thought for its fitting embellishment and display. Let them - not permit the neutral-tinted minds of the “subdued-color” fiends to - fray them with utterance of feeble platitude.</p> - - <p>An intolerable deal of nonsense has been uttered, too, about the - heartlessness of fashionable women in wearing the plumage of - song-birds—and all women are fashionable, and therefore “heartless,” - whom fortune has favored with means to that end. It is conceded by - those who utter the nonsense that it does no good; and that fact alone - would make it nonsense if the lack of wisdom did not inhere in its - every proposition. No doubt the offending female is herself somewhat - punctured in the conscience of her as she goes beautifuling herself - with the “starry plumes” which “expanded shine with azure, green and - gold,” and remembers the unchristian censure entailed by her passion - for this manner of headgear. If so, let her take comfort in this - present assurance that she is only obeying an imperious mandate of her - nature, which is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span> also a universal law. To be comely in the eyes of the - male—that is the end and justification of her being, and she knows it. - Moreover, to the task of its accomplishment she brings an intelligence - distinctly superior to that with which we judge the result. We may - say that we don’t like her to have a fledged head; and that may be - true enough: our error consists in thinking that this is the same - proposition as that we don’t like her with her head fledged. Clearly, - we do: we like her better with her feathers than without, and shall - continue to prefer her that way as long as she is likely to hold the - feathers in service; then we shall again like her better without them, - even as we liked her better with them. The lesson whereof is that what - are called the “caprices” of fashion have an underlying law as constant - as that of gravitation.</p> - - <p>In this one thing the woman is wise in her day and generation. She - may be unable to formulate her wisdom; it must, indeed be confessed - that she commonly makes a pretty bad attempt at explanation of - anything; but she knows a deal more than she knows that she knows. - One of the things that she perfectly apprehends is the evanescence of - æsthetic gratification, entailing the necessity of infinite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span> variety - in the method of its production; and the knowledge of this is power. - In countries where the women of one generation adorn themselves as - the women of another did, they are slaves, and their bondage, I am - constrained to say, is just. Efface the caprices of fashion—let our - women look always the same, even their loveliest, and in a few years we - should be driving them in harness. If the fowls of the air can serve - her in averting the catastrophe, woman is right in employing their - artful aid. Moreover—a point hitherto overlooked—it is mostly men who - kill the fowls.</p> - - <p>Urged to its logical conclusion, the argument of the Audubon Society - (named in honor of the most eminent avicide of his time) against the - killing of song-birds to decorate their betters withal would forbid - the killing of the sheep, an amiable quadruped; the fur-seal—extremely - graceful in the water; the domestic cow—distinguished for matronly - virtues; and the donkey, which, although it has no voice, is gifted - with a fine ear and works up well into a superior foreign sausage. - In short, we should emancipate ourselves from Nature’s universal law - of mutual destruction, and, lest we efface something which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span> has the - accidental property of pleasing some of our senses, go naked, feed upon - the viewless wind and sauce our privation with the incessant spectacle - of song-birds pitching into one another with tigerish ferocity and - committing monstrous excesses on bees and butterflies.</p> - - <p>We need not concern ourselves about “extermination”; the fashion is not - going to last long enough for that, and if it threatened to do so the - true remedy is not abstention, but breeding. Probably there was a time - when appeals were made for preservation of what is now the domestic - “rooster”—a truly gorgeous bird to look at. If he had not been good to - eat (in his youth) and his wife a patient layer their race would have - been long extinct. All that preserves the ostrich is the demand for its - plumage. If dead pigs were not erroneously considered palatable there - would not be a living pig within reach of man’s avenging arm. Who but - for the value of their scalps would be at the trouble and expense of - breeding coyotes? Thus we see how it is in the economy of nature that - out of the nettle danger the lower animals pluck the flower safety; and - it may easily be that the hatbird will owe its life to the profit that - we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span> have in its death, and in the flare of the plume-hunter’s gun will - “hail the dawn of a new era.”</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>Women have a comfortable way of personifying their folly under the name - “Fashion,” and laying their sins upon it. The “tyranny of Fashion” is - of a more iron-handed quality than that of anything else excepting Man. - I do steadfastly believe that many women have a distinct and definitive - conception of this monster as a gigantic biped (male, of course) ever - in session upon an iron throne, promulgating and enforcing brutal - decrees for their enslavement. Against this cruel being they feel that - rebellion would be perilous and remonstrance vain. The person who - complains of “the tyranny of fashion” is a self-confessed fool. There - is no such thing as fashion; it is as purely an abstraction as, for - example, indolence in a cat, or speed in a horse. Fancy a wild mare - complaining that she is a slave to celerity! Moralizers, literarians - and divers sorts of homilizers have been cracking this meatless nut - on our heads and comforting the stomachs of their understandings with - the imaginary kernel for lo! these many generations,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span> and have even - persuaded the rest of us that there is something in it—as much, at - least as there was in the pocket of Lady Locket. It has not even so - much in it as that; not the half of it: the phrase “women’s slavery - to fashion” has absolutely <i>no</i> meaning, and one about to use it - might as profitably use, instead, John Stuart Mill’s faultless example - of jargon: “Humpty Dumpty is an abracadabra.” Woman can not be called - submissive to fashion, for the submission and the thing submitted to - are the same thing. Even a woman can not be called a slave to slavery; - and it is the slavery that <i>is</i> the fashion. What else can we - possibly mean by “fashion,” when using the word with reference to - women’s bondage, than women’s habit of dressing alike and badly? It - can not mean, in this connection, the style of their clothing; that - cannot “enslave”; and we do not speak of slavery to anything good - and desirable. Habit and addiction to habit are not two things, but - one. In short, women, having chosen to make fools of themselves, have - personified their folly and persuaded men to see in it a tyrant with a - chain and whip.</p> - - <p>The word fashion is used as a convenient generic term for a multitude - of related stupidities<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span> and cowardices in character and conduct, and - for the results of them. To say that one must “follow the fashions” is - to say that one is compelled to be stupid and cowardly. What compels? - Under what stress of compulsion are women in making themselves hideous - in one way or another all the time—each year a different kind of - hideousness? Who commands them to get their shoulders above their - heads, blow up their sleeves and elongate their lapels to suggest the - collar-points of a negro minstrel? When have not men tried to prevent - them from doing these things and remain content with a tideless - impulchritude—an ugliness having slight and slow vicissitudes, such as - themselves are satisfied withal? Doubtless women’s quarrel with their - outward and visible appearance is a natural and reasonable sentiment, a - noble discontent; for they do look scarecrows, and no mistake; but the - effect which they have at any given time achieved, and at which they - afterward are aghast, is not to be bettered by eternal tinkering with - the same tools. In new brains and a new taste lies their only hope of - repair; lacking which, they would do well to let Time the healer touch - our wounded eyes, and inurement bring toleration.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span></p> - - <p>“The iron hand of custom and tradition,” wails one of the female - disputants, “makes a pitiable race of us.” What a way to put it! Could - it not occur to this gentle creature that if we were not a pitiable - race—pitiable for our brute stupidity—custom and tradition would not be - iron-handed? We are savages in the same sense that the N’gamwanee is a - savage, who will not appear at any festival without his belly painted - a joyous sky-blue. But among us none is so amusing a savage as she who - squeals like a pig in a gate at “the tyranny of custom,” when nothing - is pinching her.</p> - - <h4>III</h4> - - <p>An error analogous to this personification of her own folly as a - pitiless oppressor is that of considering at length and with gravity - the character, fortunes, motives and duties of “woman.” Woman does - not exist—there are women. Of woman nothing that has more than a - suggestive, literary or rhetorical value can be said. Like the word - “fashion,” the word “woman” is convenient, and of legitimate use by - persons of sense who understand that it is not the name of anything on - the earth, in the heavens above the earth,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span> nor in the waters under the - earth—that there is nothing in nature corresponding to it. To others - its use should be interdicted, for like all abstract words, it is a - pitfall to their clumsy feet. If the word is used to signify the whole - body of women it obviously assumes that, with regard to the matters - under consideration, they are all alike—which is untrue, for some are - dead. If it means less than the whole body of women it is obligatory - upon the person using it to say precisely what proportion of the sex - it means. The way to determine woman’s true place in the social scheme - is simple: make an exhaustive inquiry into the character, capacities, - desires, needs and opportunities of every individual woman. When you - have finished the result will be glorious: you will know almost as much - as you knew before.</p> - - <p>Concerning woman, I should like to be allowed a brief digression - into the troubled territory of her “rights”—a field of contention in - which her champions manifest an inadequate conception of the really - considerable powers of Omnipotence. A distinguishing feature of this - logomachy is the frequent outcrop of a certain kind of piety that - is unconnected with any respect for, or belief in, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span> power of - Him evoking it. These linked assumptions of God’s worth and God’s - incompetence are made variously: sometimes by implication, sometimes - with a directness that distresses the agnostic and makes the atheist - blush. One disputant says: “Would a woman be less womanly because - conceited Man had granted her the rights that God intended she should - have?” Now, if man really has the power to baffle the divine will and - make the divine intentions void of effect he may reasonably enough - cherish a fairly good opinion of himself—perhaps any degree of conceit - that is consistent with his scriptural character of poor worm of the dust.</p> - - <p>A noble example of piety undimmed by disrespect is that of a - Presbyterian minister, who began his remarks thus: “Has woman to-day - all the rights she ought to have—all the rights Christ meant her to - have? I fully concede she has not.” This is not very good English, - but I dare say it is good religion, this conception of Christ as - a “well-meaning person,” but without much influence in obtaining - favors for his friends. Anyhow, it is authenticated by the clerical - sign-manual, which sets it at a longer remove from blasphemy than at - first sight it may seem to be,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span> and makes it so holy that I hardly - dared to mention it. I hope it is not irreverent to say so; it is not - said in that spirit, but I can not help thinking that if I were God I - should find some way to carry out my intentions; and that if I were - Christ and had not a sufficient influence to secure for Lively Woman - the rights that I meant her to have I should retire from public life, - sever my connection with the Presbyterian church and go to work.</p> - - <h4>IV</h4> - - <p>Ladies of “health culture” clubs are sharply concerned about the length - of the skirts they wear. The purpose of their organizations, indeed, - is to protect them against their habit of wearing the skirts too - long. It has apparently not occurred to them that here, too, nobody - is compelling them to continue a disagreeable practice, and that with - a pair of scissors any woman can accomplish for herself all that she - wants the clubs to do for her. If the long skirt no longer please, - why not drop it? Nothing is easier. No concert of action definitely - agreed on was required to bring it in; none is required to oust it. - The enterprising gentleman who, having laid hold of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span> tail of a - bear, called lustily for somebody to help him let go, acted from an - intelligible motive, but I submit that if a woman stop following a - disagreeable fashion it will not turn and rend her.</p> - - <p>No more hideous garment than the skirt is knowable or thinkable. In its - every aspect it discloses an inherent and irremediable impulchritude. - It is devoid of even the imaginary beauty of utility, for it is not - only needless but obstruent, impeditive, oppugnant. Promoting the sense - of restraint, it enslaves the character. Had one been asked to invent - a garment that should make its wearer servile in spirit one would have - consulted the foremost living oppressor and designed the skirt. That - reasonless habiliment ought long ago to have been flung into Nature’s - vacant lot and found everlasting peace along with gone-before cats, - late-lamented dogs, unsouled tin cans and other appurtenances and - proofs of mortality. There is not a valid reason in the world why a - skirt of any length, shape or material should ever have been worn; - and one of the strongest evidences of women’s unfitness for a part in - the larger affairs of the race is their obstinacy in clinging to the - skirt—or rather in permitting it to cling to them. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span> long as women - garb their bodies and their legs foolwise they may profitably save that - part of their breath now wasted in becoloneling themselves and reducing - Tyrant Man to the ranks.</p> - - <p>Doubtless the skirt figures as one count in the long indictment against - the Oppressor Sex, as once bracelets and bangles did—it being pointed - out with acerbity that these are vestigial remnants of chains and - shackles. The same “claim” has been made for the eviscerating corset—I - forget upon what grounds. Of course men have had nothing to do with the - corset, excepting, in season and out of season, to implore women not to - wear it. The skirt we have merely tolerated, or from lack of thought - assented to. But if we were the sons of darkness which in deference to - the lady colonels we feel that we ought to confess ourselves, and if - we had been minded to enslave our bitter halves, we could hardly have - done better than to have “invented and gone round advising” the skirt. - Any constant restraint of the body reacts upon the mind. To hamper the - limbs is to subdue the spirit. Other things equal—which they could - not be—a naked nation would be harder to conquer than one accustomed - to clothing. The costume of the modern “civilized” man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span> is bad enough - in this way, but that of his female is a standing challenge to the - fool-killer. Considering the use and purpose of the human leg, it seems - almost incredible that this hampering garment could have been imposed - upon women by anything less imperative than a divine commandment.</p> - - <p>One reads a deal about the “immodesty” of the skirtless costume, not, I - think, because any one believes it immodest, but because its opponents - find in that theme an assured immunity from prosecution in making an - indecent exposure of their minds. This talk of immodesty is simply one - manifestation of public immorality—the immorality of an age in which - it is considered right and reputable for women and girls, in company - with men, to witness the capering of actresses and dancers who in the - name of art strip themselves to the ultimate inch—whose every motion - in their saltatory rites is nicely calculated to display as much of - the person as the law allows! Why else do they whirl and spin till - their make-believe skirts are horizontal? Why else do they spring into - the air and come down like a collapsed parachute? These motions have - nothing of grace; in point of art they are distinctly disagreeable. - Their sole<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span> purpose is indelicate suggestion. Every male spectator - knows this; every female as well; yet we lie to ourselves and to one - another in justification—lie knowing that no one is thereby deceived - as to the nature of the performance and our motives in attending it. - We call it art, and if that flimsy fiction were insufficient would - doubtless call it duty. The only person that affects no illusion in the - matter is the exhibiting hussy herself. She at least is free of the sin - of hypocrisy—save when condemning “bloomers” in the public press.</p> - - <p>As censors of morals the ladies of the ballet are perhaps half-a-trifle - insincere; I like better the simple good faith of the austere society - dame who to a large and admiring audience of semi-nude men displays her - daughter’s charms of person at the bathing beach, with an occasional - undress parade of her own ample endowments. She is in deadly earnest, - the good old girl—she is entirely persuaded of the wickedness of the - “bloomers.” Why, it would hardly be more indelicate (she says) to - wear her bathing habit in the street or drawing-room! If she were - not altogether destitute of reason she would deprive herself of that - illustration, for a costume is no more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span> indelicate in one public place - than in another. One of the congenital ear-marks of the Philistine - understanding is inability to distinguish inappropriateness from - immodesty—bad taste from faulty morals. The blush that would crimson - the cheek of a woman shopping in evening dress (and women who wear - evening dress sometimes retain the blush-habit; such are the wonders - of heredity!) would indubitably have its origin in a keen sense of - exposure. It would make a cat laugh, but it would be an honest blush - and eminently natural. The phenomenon requiring an explanation is the - no-blush when she is caught in the same costume at a ball or a dinner.</p> - - <p>In nations that cover the body for another purpose than decoration and - protection from the weather, disputes as to how much of it, and in what - circumstances, should be covered are inevitable and uncomposable. Alike - in nature and in art, the question of the nude will be always demanding - adjustment and be never adjusted. This wrangle we have always with us - as a penalty for the prudery of concealment, creating and suggesting - the prurience of exposure.</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Offended Nature hides her lash</div> - <div class="i0">In the purple-black of a dyed mustache,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span></p> - - <p class="noindent">and the lash lurks in every fold of the clothing of her choice. In - ancient Greece the disgraceful squabble was unknown; it did not occur - to the great-hearted, broad-brained and wholesome people of that - blessed land that any of the handiwork of the gods was ignoble. Nor are - the modern Japanese vexed with “the question of the nude”; save where - their admirable civilization has suffered the polluting touch of ours - they have not learned the infamy of sex. Among the blessings in store - for them are their conversion to decorous lubricity and instruction in - the nice conduct of a clouded mind.</p> - - <p>I am not myself prepared to utter judgment in all these matters. I - do not know the precise degree of propriety in a lady’s “full dress” - at dinner, nor exactly how suggestive it is at breakfast. I can not - say with accuracy when and where and why a costume is immodest that - is modest in a mixed crowd at the sea beach. But this I know, despite - all the ingenious fictions, subtleties and sophistries wherewith - naked Nonsense is accustomed to drape herself as with a skeletonized - fig-leaf: that no man nor any woman addicted to play-going, society - entertainments and surf-bathing has the right to censure any costume<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> - that is tolerated by the police. As to the “bloomers,” they have not a - suggestion of indelicacy, and of the person who professes to see it in - them I, for one, am fatigued and indisposed; and I confidently affirm - the advantage to the commonwealth of binding him to his own back and - removing the organ that he is an idiot with.</p> - - <p>I have the vanity to think it already known to me why our women wear - the skirt—just as it is known to me why the women of certain African - tribes load themselves with enormous metal neck-rings and the male of - their variety attaches a cow-tail to his barren rear. But what these - impedimental adornments are for, the wearers can no more explain than - the Caucasian female (assisted by her “man of equal mind”) can expound - the purpose of her skirt, nor even be made to understand that its - utility is actually challenged. But what would one have? Wisdom comes - of mental freedom; are we to look for that in victims and advocates of - physical restraint? Can we reasonably expect large intellectual strides - in those who voluntarily hamper their legs? Is it to be believed - that an unremittent sense of hindrance will not affect the mind and - character? With woman’s inconsiderable reasoning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span> power the skirt, - the corset and the finery have had as much to do as anything. If she - wants emancipation from the imaginary tyranny of Man the Monster, let - her show herself worthy of it by overthrowing the actual despotism - maintained by herself. Let her unbind her body and liberate her legs; - then we shall know if she has a mind that can be taught to stand alone - and march without the suasion of a bayonet.</p> - - <p>1895.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span> - <h3 id="BREACHES_OF_PROMISE">BREACHES OF PROMISE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THERE should be no such thing as an action for a breach of promise - of marriage. An action for promise of marriage would be in some ways - preferable, for where damages ensue it is the promise that has caused - them. Doubtless the hurt heart of one who is abandoned by her lover, - especially after providing the trousseau and kindly apprising all her - rivals, is justly entitled to sympathetic commiseration, but the pain - is one that the law can not undertake to heal. In theory at least it - concerns itself with actual privation of such pecuniary advantages as - would have accrued to the plaintiff from marriage with the defendant, - and such other losses as can be denoted by the figures of arithmetic. - If the defendant were liable for the pain he inflicted by breaking - his promise he might justly demand compensation for the joy that he - gave in making it. Where the courtship had been long there might be a - considerable balance in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span> favor. Nor is it altogether clear that he - ought not to be allowed to file a counter-claim based upon the profit - of getting rid of him.</p> - - <p>But is the loss of a merely promised advantage a loss that ought to - be a matter of legal inquiry and repair? In the promise to pay money, - and in papers transferring property from one person to another, - it is requisite that a “consideration” be expressed: the person - claiming value from another must show that value was given. What is - the consideration in the case of a marriage-promise? What computable - value has the defendant in a breach of promise case received that the - plaintiff could, or if she could would care to, estimate in dollars - and cents? Would she undertake to submit an itemized bill? As a rule, - the promiser of marriage receives nothing for which the performance of - his promise would be an “equivalent” in the commercial sense. True, he - obtains by his promise certain privileges which (it is said) he deems - precious; but all the accepted authorities on this subject declare that - in the exercise of these he imparts no small satisfaction to the person - bestowing them.</p> - - <p>Accurately speaking, then, a promise of marriage is a promise without - consideration;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span> and whatever merely sentimental injuries result - from its infraction might justly be squared by a merely sentimental - reparation. Perhaps it would be enough if the injured plaintiff in - a breach of promise suit were awarded the illusory advantage but - acceptable gratification of wigging the defendant’s attorney.</p> - - <p>It may be said that the defendant’s equivalent for his promise was the - lady’s tender of such services as wives perform for husbands—among - which the peasant-born humorist of the period loves to enumerate such - mysterious functions as “building the fire” and assisting to search - for the soap in the bath-tub. But it must not be overlooked that this - tender is itself only a promise whereof the performance fails, along - with that of the one for which it is given in exchange: the fire - remains unbuilded and the soap is lost. One unfulfilled promise is no - better than another. Nay, it is not so good.</p> - - <p>But if we are to have suits for breach of promise of marriage it can - at least be so ordered that there shall be no question of proof. An - act of the legislature is enough for that. Let there be a law that - marriage engagements to be valid shall be in writing. This would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span> work - no hardship to anybody, and would be a pleasing contrast to the law - which does <i>not</i> require any authenticating formality for the - marriage itself. If a man really wish and mean to marry he will not be - unwilling to say so over his hand and seal, and have the declaration - duly attested. The lack of such evidence as this should be a bar to any - action. It is admitted that this rigorous requirement would be pretty - hard on such ladies as rich bachelors and widowers have the hardihood - to be civil to, and that it would deprive the intelligent juror of - such delight as he derives from giving away another man’s property - without loss to himself. Its advantage would be found in its tendency - to prevent the courts of law from being loaded up with the class of - cases under consideration, to the exclusion of much other business. The - number of wealthy men increases yearly with the country’s prosperity, - and they grow more and more unmarried. Under the present system they - are easy prey, but the operation of despoiling them is tedious; - wherefore worthy assassins are compelled to wait an unconscionably - long time for acquittal. The reform that I venture to suggest would - disembarrass the courts of the ambitious “ladifrend” and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span> the scheming - domestic, and give the murderers a chance. As a matter of expediency, I - think a man should be permitted to change his mind as to whom he will - marry, as frequently as it may please him to do so; almost any change - in the mind of a man in love must be in the direction of improvement.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span> - <h3 id="THE_TURKO_GRECIAN_WAR">THE TURKO-GRECIAN WAR</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE Turks are not the ferocious fanatics that our respect for the - commandment against bearing false witness does not forbid us to - affirm. They are a good-natured, rather indolent people, among whom - all races and religions find security in good behavior, and, in so far - as differences of social and religious customs will allow, fraternity. - They are a trifle corrupt, but from neither an American legislator nor - his constituents is censure of political profligacy in other lands - than ours an edifying utterance. In Mohammedan countries even slavery - is a light affliction. As to “savagery,” “butchery” and the rest of - it, let the ten thousand Americans murdered with impunity by their own - countrymen last year open their white lips and testify. And let the ten - thousand who are to be murdered this year reserve judgment on the right - of the American character to mount the pulpit and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> deal damnation round - on heads that wear the fez.</p> - - <p>Like the Bulgarian “massacres” of a few years ago, which so pained - the blameless soul of Christendom and drew from holy Mr. Gladstone - that Christianly charitable term, “the unspeakable Turk,” the Armenian - “massacres” are mostly moonshine—as massacres. It should never be - forgotten that our accounts of these deplorable events come almost - altogether from Christian missionaries—narrow, bigoted zealots, - who doubtless stand well in the other world, but in this world are - untrustworthy historians of the troubles which their impenitent - meddlesomeness incites. They are swift and willing witnesses, and their - interest lies in the direction of exaggeration. Not much of moderation - and disinterestedness can under any circumstances be expected of - persons who make it the business of their lives to go abroad to - crack theological nuts upon the heads of others and eat the kernels - themselves. A man of sane heart and right reason will no more interfere - with the spiritual affairs of others than with their temporal. This - much any one may know who has the sense to learn: that the troubles in - Armenia are not religious persecutions, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span> political disturbances, - and that next to Mohammedan Kurds the most incorrigible scamps in Asia - are Armenian Christians.</p> - - <p>Among military men the superior character of Turkish soldiers is a - familiar consideration. The war minister or general who should order - or conduct a campaign against them without conceding to their terrible - fighting qualities a particular attention in reckoning the chances - of success would show a lamentable ignorance of his business. For - that veritable folly the Greeks recently paid through the nose. With - a childish trust in an enthusiasm that hardly outlasted the smoke of - the first gun, they threw their undisciplined crowds against superior - numbers of these formidable fighters in a quarrel in which their only - hope of national existence if beaten lay in the magnanimity of the - Powers whose protection they disclaimed. It is by the sufferance and - grace of these Powers that the name of Greece remains on the map of - Europe.</p> - - <p>All this sentiment about the debt that civilization owes to Greece is - foolish: the Greece to which civilization is indebted for its glorious - heritage of art, philosophy and literature is dead these many ages—a - memory and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span> a name. The debtor is without a creditor, the claimant - without a claim. Greece would herself be justly liable for her share - of the debt if there were anybody to whom to pay it. As to the claims - of “our common religion” (that is, the right to our assistance in - violating our common religion’s fundamental and most precious precepts) - it should be sufficient to say that if the modern Greek is a Christian - Christ was not. If Christ were among the Athenians to-day they would - part his raiment among them before crucifixion and cast lots for his - vesture with loaded dice.</p> - - <p>From the first the cause of the Greeks was hopeless. They were a feeble - nation making unjust war against a strong one. They were a merely - warlike people attacking a military people—the worst soldiers in - Europe, without commanders, challenging the best soldiers in the world - led by two able strategists. Without resources, without credit, without - allies, and relying upon miracles, they flung themselves upon an enemy - favored by united Europe. It was the act not of heroes, but of madmen. - Had they been content to accept the autonomy of Crete their action in - occupying that island would have commanded at least the respect of - every poker-player in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span> world. Demanding all, they naturally got - nothing. True, they had the moral support of that part of Christendom - addicted to the flourish of tongues, and were particularly rich in - resolutions of American sympathy, some of them beautifully engrossed on - parchment.</p> - - <p>One of the most amusing rascalities of that war was the attempt - to invest it with a religious character. This smug villainy was - especially manifest in the “resolutions” and the telegrams of press - correspondents, from whom we heard very little about the Turks and the - Greeks, but a great deal about the “Moslems” and the “Christians.” Even - the soldierly superiority of the Turks in valor and discipline was - perverted to their disparagement. We were told of their “mad, fanatical - charges,” which by way of variety were called also “irresistible rushes - of crazy zealots”; and one splendorous historiographer described - the victorious battalions as “drunken with Armenian blood”! How to - distinguish between an assault that is fanatical and one that is merely - courageous—that is a secret that neither the saintly scribe nor the - sober Greek lingered to learn. In a general way the gallant charge is - made by troops of our own race and religion, the fanatical<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span> rush by - those of another and inferior faith.</p> - - <p>Hardly less brilliant were the accounts of “Moslem” cruelty, - particularly to prisoners, under whom their captors kindled - discomforting fires—a needless labor, for it would have been greatly - easier to make the fire on unoccupied ground and superpose the prisoner - afterward. The customary rites of parting the heads of women and - eviscerating babes were not neglected: all the requirements of invasion - received careful attention—as they did in Cuba, as they once did in - France, as they previously did in the Southern States of our Union, and - before that in the revolted colonies of Great Britain. Edhem Pasha was - a strict constructionist of the popular law; as a conscientious invader - operating among an inhospitable populace, he thoughtfully gave himself - the trouble to be a “butcher”—as Cornwallis was in the Colonies, as - Grant was in the South, as Von Moltke was in France, and as Weyler - was in Cuba. If it were not for picturesque narratives of tortured - prisoners, multisected women, children ingeniously bayoneted and old - men fearfully and wonderfully defaced by the hand of an artist, the - literature of conquest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span> would lack the salt that keeps it sweet in the - memory and the spice that gives it glow.</p> - - <p>Of course it is all nonsense: cruelties are not practiced in modern - wars between civilized nations. (It is true that the Turks, or some of - them, are so uncivilized as to have a number of Turkesses each, but - that is not visibly bad for them, and appears to be condemned on the - ground that it is somehow bad for us.) Indubitably Turkey’s doom as a - European Power was long ago pronounced in the Russian language, but - she dies with a dignity befitting her glorious history. Foot to foot - and sword to sword she struggles with the hosts assailing her, now on - this side, and now on that. Against attack by her powerful neighbors - and insurrection of her heterogeneous provinces, she has manifested a - courage, a vitality, a fertility of resource, a continuity and tenacity - of purpose which in a Christian nation would command our respect and - engage our enthusiasm. Unfortunately for them, her people worship God - in a way that is different from our way, and with a sincerity which - in us would be zeal if we had it, but which in them is fanaticism. - Therefore they are hateful. Therefore they are unspeakable. Therefore - we lie about them and,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span> because of the respectability of the witnesses, - believe our own lies. Truth is not in us, nor the sense of its need; - charity nor the memory of its primacy among virtues.</p> - - <p>1897.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span> - <h3 id="CATS_OF_CHEYENNE">CATS OF CHEYENNE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE city of Cheyenne, Wyoming, recently experienced a peculiar and - singularly sharp affliction in the insanity of all its cats. Cheyenne - cats had theretofore been regarded as the most level-headed and least - mercurial of their species. Nothing in their aspect nor demeanor - had been observed to justify a suspicion that they suffered from - uncommonness of mind; then they developed symptoms of such pronounced - intellectual independence that even the local physicians, inured - to all phases and degrees of eccentricity in the human contingent - of Cheyenne’s population, were unable to ignore the melancholy - significance of the phenomena—the cats of Cheyenne were indubitably as - mad as hatters.</p> - - <p>To him who has duly considered the cat’s place in the scheme of modern - civilization, the actual calamity will suggest possibilities of the - most dismal and gruesome sort. In imagination he will see (and hear) - the mental<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span> epidemic spreading by contagion until it affects the cats - of the whole world, and perhaps those of Denver. The musical outlook - is discouraging: the orchestration of a feline lunatic in one of its - deuced intervals can be nothing less than appalling! Fancy a maniacal - male of the species, beneath his favorite window of the dormitory - of a hospital for nervous insomnia, securely casemented in an empty - crate and courting rather than avoiding the assaults of the wild - bootjacquerie above, while twanging his disordered fiddle-strings for - the production of</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i5">a long unmeasured tone</div> - <div class="i0">To mortal minstrelsy unknown,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">and then executing such variants of his theme as no rational cat has - ever been able or willing to compose!</p> - - <p>The cause of the outbreak was no less remarkable than the outbreak - itself: the cats of Cheyenne incurred mental confusion from being - supercharged with electricity. For a period of seven weeks the wind - blew across the delightful region of which that city is the capital, at - a calculated average velocity of thirty miles an hour. “The ground in - consequence,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span> according to a resident scientist, “has become extremely - dry, and the friction of the wind in passing over it has produced - an enormous quantity of electricity, and every one is more or less - charged.” So seriously indeed were some of the newer residents affected - that they have had to leave Cheyenne and go to California for relief; - and of those remaining it is related that even now when they shake - hands there is a distinct and painful shock to him who is the less - electrified. The performance of this social rite has therefore fallen - into “innocuous desuetude,” men conscious of being imperfectly charged - eying every approaching friend with natural suspicion, and preferring - to pain him with a distant bow rather than incur the thunderbolt of - a more familiar greeting. It is not apprehended that our most sacred - American custom is menaced with anything more than local and temporary - suspension, but it is feared that the American cat is on the eve of - stupendous intellectual and musical changes that will make the name of - Cheyenne memorable forever.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span> - <h3 id="THANKSGIVING_DAY">THANKSGIVING DAY</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THERE be those whose memories though vexed with a rake would yield - no matter for gratitude. With a waistcoat fitted to the occasion, it - is easy enough to eat one’s allowance of turkey and hide away one’s - dishonest share of the wine; if this be returning thanks, why, then, - gratitude is considerably easier, and vastly more agreeable, than - “falling off a log,” and may be acquired in one easy lesson. But if - more than this be required—if to be grateful is more than merely to be - gluttonous, your true philosopher (he of the austere brow upon which - logic has stamped its eternal impress, and from whose heart sentiment - has been banished along with other vestigial vices) will think twice - and again before leveling his serviceable shins in humble observance of - the day.</p> - - <p>For here is the nut of reason that he is compelled to crack for the - kernel of emotion appropriate to the rite. Unless the blessings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span> that - we think we enjoy are favors of the Omnipotent, to be grateful is - to be absurd. If they are, then, also, the evils with which we are - indubitably afflicted have the same origin. Grant this, as you must, - and you make an offset of the ill against the good, or are driven - either to the untenable position that we should be grateful for both, - or the no more defensible one that all evils are blessings in disguise.</p> - - <p>Truth is, my fine fellow of the distensible weskit, your annual - gratitude is a sorry pretense, a veritable sham, a cloak, dear man, - to cover your unhandsome gluttony; and when by chance you actually do - take to your knees on one day in the year it is for physical relief and - readier digestion of your bird. Nevertheless, there is truly a subtle - but significant relation between the stuffing of the flesh and the - gratitude of the spirit, as you shall see.</p> - - <p>I have ever held and taught the identity of Stomach and Soul—one - entity considered under two aspects. Gratitude I believe to be a kind - of imponderable ether evolved, mainly, from the action of the gastric - fluid upon rich provend and comforting tope. Like other gases it - ascends, and so passes out at mouth, audible, intelligible, gracious. - This beautiful theory has been tested by convincing experiment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span> in the - manner scientific, as here related.</p> - - <p><i>Experiment I.</i> A quantity of grass was put into a leathern bottle - and a gill of the gastric fluid of a sheep introduced. In ten minutes - the neck of the bottle emitted a contented bleat.</p> - - <p><i>Experiment II.</i> A pound of beef was substituted for the grass and - the fluid of a dog for that of the sheep. The result was a cheerful - bark, accompanied by agitation of the bottom of the bottle, as if an - attempt were making to wag it.</p> - - <p><i>Experiment III.</i> The bottle was charged with a handful of - chopped turkey, a glass of old port, and four ounces of human gastric - fluid obtained from a coroner. At first nothing escaped from the neck - but a deep sigh of satisfaction, followed by a grunt like that of a - banqueting pig. The proportion of turkey being increased and the gas - confined, the bottle was greatly distended, appearing to suffer a - slight uneasiness. The restriction being removed, the experimenter had - the happiness to hear, distinctly articulated, the words: “Praise God, - from whom all blessings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span> flow—praise Him all bottles here below!”</p> - - <p>Against such demonstration as this all theological interpretation of - the phenomena of gratitude is of no avail.</p> - - <p>1869.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span> - <h3 id="THE_HOUR_AND_THE_MAN">THE HOUR AND THE MAN</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">CONTRARY to popular belief, “the hour” does not always bring “the man.” - It did not bring him for France in 1870. In our civil war it brought - him for the Confederacy, but a chance bullet took him off. Every defeat - of a cause discredits anew the superstition about “the hour and the - man.” When the hour strikes, the man may be already present and not - hear. The “mute, inglorious Milton,” dying with all his music in him, - is no more real a character than the mute, inglorious Cæsar trudging - along in the ranks, unsuspected by his comrades and unaware of himself. - Even if conscious of his own consummate genius, and impressing a sense - of it upon others, it is by no means certain that he will come to the - control. An intrigue, the selfish jealousy of some little soul in - authority, the caprice of a woman behind the throne, an unfortunate - peculiarity of manner in himself, a stumbling horse, a random - bullet—any one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span> of ten thousand accidents may deprive his country of - the stupendous advantage of his directing hand.</p> - - <p>It was once the fashion among the school of thinkers of which that - truly great man, John Stuart Mill, was the head almost altogether to - ignore the “personal equation” in matters of “great pith and moment.” - They recognized the trend of tendencies—great currents of energy which - apparently had an existence and control quite independent of, and apart - from, human agency. In their view, individual men, so far from guiding - the course of events, were borne along by them like leaves by the wind. - They taught, by implication if not directly, that the Europe of their - day would have been pretty much the same without, for example, the - Napoleon of the day before. The conception of a single dominating mind - bending other minds to its will and working stupendous changes, even by - its caprices, these philosophers considered altogether too primitive - and crude for the world’s manhood, and most of us who were young in - their day assisted in discrediting their theory by reverently accepting - it. We have recovered now; nobody to-day thinks after that fashion of - thought, excepting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span> Tolstoi. The importance of the individual will, - consciously striving for the attainment of definitive ends, yet subject - to all the caprices of chance and accident, is restored in the minds of - men to its own reign of reason.</p> - - <p>Considering the matter only in the limited view of its relation to - military success, we all see, or suppose ourselves to see, that - if Marlborough had died of measles when he was John Churchill; if - Frederick had burst a blood vessel in one of his blind rages before he - became the Great; if Carnot had fallen down a cellar stairway when he - was a boy; if Napoleon had been knocked over at the bridge of Arcola, - or Von Moltke had deserted to the French and been given command of the - column that was headed for Berlin, the historian of to-day would have - had a Europe to deal with which it is impossible now even to conceive. - Suppose that “the hour” had not brought John Sobieski to confront - the victorious Turk a couple of centuries ago. Europe might now be - Mohammedan and the word Russia destitute of meaning. Considerations of - this character may advantageously be permitted to teach us humility in - the matter of prophecy, and particularly with reference<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span> to military - undertakings, than the result of which nothing is more beset with - accident and dependent upon the unknowable and incalculable.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span> - <h3 id="MORTUARY_ELECTROPLATING">MORTUARY ELECTROPLATING</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">TO the proposition that electroplating the dead is the best way to - dispose of them there is this considerable objection—it does not - dispose of them. The plan is not without its advantages, some of which - are obvious enough to mention. Nothing, for example, can be more - satisfactory to a husband engaged in dying than the reflection that - as a nickel-plated statue of himself he may still adorn the conjugal - fireside and become an object of peculiar interest and sympathy to - his successor. There are few remains, indeed, to whom this would not - seem a softer billet than “to lie in cold obstruction” in a cemetery, - from which, after all, one is usually routed out in a few years to - accommodate a corner grocery or a boarding-house.</p> - - <p>The light cost of ornamenting our public buildings with distinguished - men themselves, as compared with the present enormous expense of - obtaining statues of them, will commend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span> the régime of electroplating - to every frugal taxpayer and make him hail its dawn with a peculiar - joy. In order to make the most of this advantage it is to be hoped - that any public-spirited “prominent citizen” feeling his sands of life - about run out, would consent to be posed by an artist in some striking - and heroic attitude, ready for the <i>rigor mortis</i> to fix him in - it for the plater. It would be but a trifling sacrifice for a great - writer to pass the last ten minutes of his life cross-legged in a - chair, with a pen in one hand and a thumb and forefinger of the other - spanning a space on his dome of thought. A distinguished statesman - would not find it so very inconvenient to breathe his last standing in - the characteristic attitude of his profession, his left thumb supported - in the opening of a waistcoat thoughtfully constructed to button the - wrong way, and his right hand holding a scroll. In dying grandly on the - acclivity of a rearing horse, a famous warrior could at the same time - lay his countrymen under an added obligation and assist them fitly to - discharge it.</p> - - <p>The process of electroplation (if one may venture to anticipate a - word that is inevitable) does not, unluckily, permit us to retain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span> - the deceased “in his habit as he lived,” textile fabrics not being - susceptible to the magic of its method; but the figures of eminent - decedents exposed in public places to fire the ambition of American - youth could be provided with real tailor-made suits, either in the - fashion of their time and Congressional district or in that of ancient - Rome, as might be preferred by the public taste for the time being, - and the tailors’ bills would probably, in some instances, be almost - as interesting, if not nearly so startling, as that item in an early - English Passion-play account, in which the management is charged five - shillings and sixpence for “a cote for Godd.”</p> - - <p>To that entire class of decedents whom we may call - eminent-public-services men, the objection that electroplating the dead - does not permanently dispose of them has no practical application. - Of them we do not wish to dispose; we want to retain them for - embellishment of our parks, the façades of our public buildings and - the walls of our art galleries. But in its relation to “vulgar deaths - unknown to fame” the objection is indeed fatal. If this mortal is going - to put on immortality in so strictly literal a sense—if the dead are to - be still with us in a tangible and visible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span> reality, the fact will be - embarrassing, no doubt. Under a régime in which a dead man will take up - as much room as a living one, it is evident that the dead in general - will take up a deal more than the living, and the disproportion will - increase at an alarming rate.</p> - - <p>Science assures us that but for death—including decay—the world would - now be so overcrowded that there would be “standing room only,” - even for scientists. Electroplating proposes to enjoin decay. Is - it advisable? Is it wise? Is it fair to posterity? Shall we impose - ourselves upon those who “inherit us,” without providing for the - expense of our warehousing? It can hardly be expected that even the - most “well-preserved old gentleman” will be an object of veneration - and affection to his great-great-great-grandchild, even if he is so - fortunate as to be authentic—unless, indeed, he happen to be plated - with gold. In that case, though, he would be hardly likely to descend - intact to so remote a generation. An unusually comely electroplatee of - the opposing sex might be a joy forever as a work of art, and the task - of polishing her be a labor of love for many centuries; but the common - ruck of hard-shell ancestors, although bearing inscriptions attesting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span> - their possession of the loftiest virtues in their day and generation, - would inspire an insufficiently tender emotion to pay for their lodging.</p> - - <p>The time when our beautiful, but not altogether wholesome, cemeteries - shall be no more, and in the place of them countless myriads of - battered and rusted images shall be corded up like firewood all over - the smiling land is a time which we may be thankful that we shall not - live to see, and which our love of display should not make us selfishly - assist in expediting. It is a glittering temptation, but in fair play - to posterity (which has never done anything to embarrass us) it ought - to be put resolutely aside.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span> - <h3 id="THE_AGE_ROMANTIC">THE AGE ROMANTIC</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">WHO would not like to have been an Athenian of the time of Pericles? - Yet who would have liked to be one? The Periclesian Athenian whom we - would all like to have been—provided that we could be also Rooseveltian - Americans—took little thought, doubtless, of “the glory that was - Greece.” He considered himself singularly unfortunate to live in so - prosaic an age. Ah, if he could only have been born an Assyrian in - the golden prime of good King Assurbanipal, before the invention of - such hideous commonplaces as mathematics, oratory, navigation (with - its flaring pharos on every headland), its bad poets, its Pan and the - peplum!</p> - - <p>A picturesque period is always remote in time; a picturesque land, - in distance. It is of the essence of the picturesque that it be - unfamiliar. Look at the suave Mexican <i>caballero</i> with his - silvered <i>sombrero</i>, his silken sash, embroidered jacket fearfully - and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span> wonderfully bebraided, his ornate footgear. How he shines in the - light of his uncommon identity!—how dull we look, how odious in the - comparison! Can it be possible that this glorious creation envies - us the engaging simplicity of our habiliments and the charm of our - unstudied incivility? And does he execute a rapture over the title - “Mister” and the soft, musical vocables of the name “John Henry Smith”?</p> - - <p>Who would care to lose his life in ascending White Mountain by a new - trail? But Mont Blanc—that is different.</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains;</div> - <div class="i2">They crowned him long ago,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">but be sure it was no Frenchman that did the crowning—not with such - a name as that! And if the exigencies of the literary situation had - compelled Coleridge to think of him in the vernacular he would never - have stood in the valley of Chamouni asking him who sank his sunless - pillars deep in earth. “White Mountain” is well enough in its way if - one think only of its color; but there is the disquieting possibility - that it was named in honor of its discoverer (Ezekiel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span> White, of - Podunk) like the eminences that “stand dressed in living green” down in - New Hampshire.</p> - - <p>Call Capri “Goat Island” and you class it with an abomination of that - name in the harbor of San Francisco. To the Neapolitan looking</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i2">Across the charmed bay</div> - <div class="i0">Whose blue waves keep, with Capri’s sunny fountains,</div> - <div class="i2">Perpetual holiday</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">it is just Goat Island, and it is nothing more. The sunny fountains and - the famous sea-caverns do not interest him. They are possibly fine, but - indubitably familiar.</p> - - <p>All this has perhaps something to do with contentment; it may go a - short way toward making us willing to be alive. We hear much from the - writer-folk about the horrors of this commercial age, the dull monotony - of modern life, the depressing daily contact with the things we loathe, - to wit, railways, steamships, telephones, electric street-cars and - other prosaic things which, when we are not boasting of them, we are - reviling. We shudder to think of the railway from Joppa to Jerusalem - (if there is one) and sigh for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span> the good old days of the camel—even as - we sigh for those of the stage-coach, whereby the traveler met with - many romantic adventures in lonely roads and at wayside inns. Well, - as to all that, it is still possible to renounce one’s purse to a - “road agent” between Squaw Gulch and Ginger Gap if one wish to, and - “hold-ups” are not altogether unknown to those who in default of the - stage-coach are compelled to travel by express trains.</p> - - <p>Is any spectacle really more interesting than a railway train in - motion? Why, even the stolidest laborer in the field, or the most - <i>blasé</i> switchman off duty, takes a moment off to stare at it. - By night, with its dazzling headlight, its engine eating fire and - breathing steam and smoke, its flashes of red light upon the trees as - its furnace doors are opened and closed, its long line of gleaming - windows, the roar and clang of its progress—not in the world is - anything more fascinating, more artistic nor, but for its familiarity, - more picturesque.</p> - - <p>It is so all round: the Atlantic liner is a nobler sight than the - clipper ship of our fathers, as that was a nobler sight than the carvel - of <i>their</i> fathers, and that than the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span> Roman trireme—each in its - turn lamented by solemn protagonists of “the days that are no more” and - might advantageously never have been. How the intellectual successors - of these lugubrious persons will envy their dead predecessors in the - days that are to come! As they go careering through the sky in their - airships they will blow apart the clouds with sighs of regret for the - golden age of the express train, the trolley car and the automobile. - While penetrating the ocean between the German port of Liverpool and - the Japanese port of New York they will read with avid interest quaint - old chronicles relating to steam-driven vessels that floated on the - surface and had many a merry bout with wind and wave. Immersed in - waters all aglow with artificial light and color, passing in silence - and security above charming landscapes of the sea, and among</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">The wide-faced, infamous monsters of the deep,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">they will deplore their hard lot in living in so prosaic an age, “even - as you and I.”</p> - - <p>The truth of it all is that we of to-day are favored beyond the power - of speech to express in having been born in so fascinating<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span> and - romantic a period. Not in literature, not in art, but in those things - that touch the interest and hold the attention of all classes alike, - the last century was as superior to all those that went before as - a bird of paradise is superior in beauty and interest to a slug of - the field. Science and invention have made our world a spectacular - extravaganza, a dream of delight to the senses and the mind. Man has - employment for all his eyes and all his ears. Yet always he throws a - longing look backward to the barbarism to which eventually he will - return.</p> - - <p>1902.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span> - <h3 id="THE_WAR_EVERLASTING">THE WAR EVERLASTING</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">FOR thousands of years—doubtless for hundreds of thousands—an - incessant civil war has been going on in every country that has even - a rudimentary civilization, and the prospect of peace is no brighter - to-day than it was at the beginning of hostilities. This war, with its - dreadful mortality and suffering, loses none of its violence in times - of peace; indeed, a condition of national tranquillity appears to be - most favorable to its relentless prosecution: when the people are not - fighting foreigners they have more time for fighting one another. - This never-ending internal strife is between the law-breaking and the - law-abiding classes. The latter is the larger force—at least it is - the stronger and is constantly victorious, yet never takes the full - benefit of its victory. The commander of an army who should so neglect - his opportunities would be recalled in disgrace, for it is a rule of - warfare to take the utmost possible advantage of success.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span></p> - - <p>There should be no such person as an habitual criminal, and there - would be none if criminals were not permitted to breed. There are - several ways to prevent them—some, like perpetual imprisonment, too - expensive; others impossible of discussion here. The best practical - and discussible way is to kill them. And in this is no injustice. The - man who will not live at peace with his countrymen has no inherent - right to live at all. The community against which he wages private war - has as clear a right to deprive him of his life as of his liberty by - imprisonment, or his property by fines.</p> - - <p>We grade crimes and punishments only for expediency, not because there - are degrees of guilt, for it is as easy to obey the law against theft - as the law against murder, and the true criminality of an offense - against the state lies in its infraction of the law, not in the damage - to its victim. The venerable dictum that, whereas</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">It is a sin to steal a pin,</div> - <div class="i0">It is a greater to steal a potater,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">is brilliant, but erroneous. Logically there are no degrees of crime; - a misdemeanor is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span> as hardy a defiance of the community as a felony. - The distinction is an administrative fiction to facilitate punishment. - It is thought that rather than condemn a misdemeanant to perpetual - restraint in prison or death on the gallows jurors would acquit him; - and indubitably they would. The purpose of these feeble remarks is to - lead public opinion upward through flowery paths of reason to a higher - philosophy and a broader conception of duty.</p> - - <p>My notion is that a great saving of life and property could be effected - by extermination of habitual criminals. Some crime would remain. Under - the stress of want, men would occasionally take the property of others; - crazed by sudden rage, they would sometimes slay; and so forth. But - crimes of premeditation would disappear and the enormously expensive - machinery of justice could be abolished. One small prison might - suffice for an entire nation. A few courts of criminal jurisdiction, - an insignificant constabulary, would preserve the peace and punishment - could be made truly reformatory—it would not need to be deterrent. In - short, the dream of the reformer, with his everlastingly futile methods - of deterrence by mental and moral education, could be made to come to - pass in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span> a generation or two by the forthright and merciful plan of - effacing the criminal class.</p> - - <p>Of course I do not mean to advocate the death penalty for every - premeditated infraction of the law, nor do I know how many convictions - should be considered as proving the offender an habitual criminal; - but certainly I think that, having exceeded the number allowed him, - his right to life should be held to have lapsed and he should be - removed from this vale of tears forthwith. The fact that a man who - habitually breaks the law may be better than another who habitually - obeys it, or the fact that he who is convicted may be less guilty than - he who escapes conviction, has nothing to do with the matter. If we - can not remove all the irreclaimable the greater is the expediency of - removing all that we can catch and convict. The law’s inadequacy and - inconsistency are patent, but they constitute the silliest plea for - “mercy” that stupidity has ever invented.</p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>This is an age of mercy to the merciless. The good Scriptural code, “An - eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” has fallen into the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">321</span> sere and - yellow leaf: it is a creed outworn. We have replaced it with a regime - of “reformation,” a penology of persuasion. In our own country this - sign and consequence of moral degeneration, this power and prevalence - of the mollycoddle, are especially marked. We no longer kill our - assassins; as a rule, the only disadvantages they suffer for killing us - are those incident to detention for acquittal, with a little preaching - to remind them of their mortality. Wherefore our homicide list is about - twice annually that of the battle of Gettysburg.</p> - - <p>The American prison of to-day is carefully outfitted with the comforts - of home. Those who succeed in breaking into it find themselves - distinctly advantaged in point of housing, and are clothed and fed - better than they ever were before, or will be elsewhere. Light - employment, gentle exercise, cleanliness, and sound sleep reward them, - and when expelled their one ambition is to go back. The “reformation” - consists in lifting them to a higher plane of criminality: the man who - enters as a stupid thief is graduated a competent forger, and comes - back (if he can) with an augmented self-respect and an ambition to kill - the warden. Some of us old fogies think<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">322</span> that a prison was best worth - its price to the community when it was a place that a rascal would - rather die out of than get into; but we are <i>voces in deserto</i> and - in the ramp and roar of the new penology altogether unheard.</p> - - <p>These remarks are suggested by something in France. In that half-sister - republic the guillotine, though still a lawful dissuader from the - error of assassination, is not at the time of writing in actual use. - Murderers are still sentenced to it, but always the sentence is - commuted to imprisonment during life or good behavior. Coincidently - with the decline of the guillotine there is a notable rise in the rate - of assassination. Somebody having had the sagacity to suggest the - possibility of something more than an accidental relation between the - two phenomena, it occurred to a Parisian editor to collect “views” as - to the expediency of again bringing knife and neck together in the - good old way. He got views of all sorts of kinds, naturally, and knows - almost as much about public opinion as he did before. It is interesting - to note that the literary class is nearly a unit against the - chopping-block, as was to be expected: persons who work with the head - naturally set a high value upon it—an over-appraisement in their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">323</span> own - case, for their heads are somewhat impaired by their habit of housing - their hearts in them. There was an honorable minority: Mistral, the - Provençal poet, who pointed out (in verse) that a people too squeamish - to endure the shedding of criminal blood has taken a long step in the - downward path leading to feebleness.</p> - - <p>Wherefore I say: Bravo, Mistral! You have done something to prove that - not all poets are persons of criminal instincts.</p> - - <h4>III</h4> - - <p>There is a general tendency to attribute the popular distrust of the - death penalty to the “softening” effect of civilization. One might - accept that view without really agreeing with its expounder; for it is - the human heart which the expounder believes to have been softened, - whereas there is reason to think that the softening process has - involved the human head.</p> - - <p>As a matter of fact, gentlemen experiencing an inhospitality to the - death penalty (including those on the gallows) should not felicitate - themselves; their feeling is due to quite other causes. It is mostly a - heritage of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">324</span> unreason from the dark ages when in all Europe laws were - made and enforced, with no great scruples of conscience, by conquerors - and the descendants of conquerors alien in blood, language and manners. - Between these and the masses of the original inhabitants there was no - love lost. The peasantry hated their foreign oppressors with a silent - antipathy which, like a covered fire, burned with a sullen and more - lasting fervor for lack of vent. Hatred of the oppressor embraced - hatred of all his works and ways, his laws included, and from hatred of - particular laws to hatred of all law the transition was easy, natural - and, human nature being what it is, inevitable.</p> - - <p>So there is a distinctly traceable connection between wars of conquest - and sympathy with crime—between the subjugation of races and their - disrespect of law. Here we find the true fountain and origin of - anarchism. A country “occupied” implies a people imbruted. It may some - time “assimilate” with its conquerors, bringing to the new compound, as - in the instance of the Anglo-Saxon combination with the Norman-French, - some of the sturdiest virtues of the new national life; but along with - these it will surely bring servile<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">325</span> vices acquired during the period - of inharmony. There is no doubt that much of whatever turbulence and - lawlessness distinguish the American people from the more orderly - communities across the sea is the work of William the Conqueror and his - men-at-arms. The evil that they did lives after them in the congenial - conditions supplied by a republic.</p> - - <p>What manner of men the Anglo-Saxons became under Norman dominion before - the moral renascence is shown in all the chronicles of the time. A - Roman historian has described the Saxon of the period as a naked brute, - who lay all day by his fireside sluggish and dirty, always eating and - drinking. Even after the assimilation was nearly complete—no longer - ago than “the spacious times of great Elizabeth,” who, by the way, - used to thwack her courtiers on the mazzard when they displeased - her—the homogeneous race was a lawless lot. Speaking of their fondness - for violent bodily exercise and their inaccessibility to the softer - sentiments, Taine says:</p> - - <blockquote> - <p>This is why man, who for three centuries had been a domestic - animal, was still almost a savage beast, and - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">326</span> - the force of his muscles and the strength of his nerves increased - the boldness and energy of his passions. Look at these uncultivated - men, men of the people, how suddenly the blood warms and rises to - their faces; their fists double, their lips press together and - their vigorous bodies rush at once into action. The courtiers of - that age were like our men of the people. They had the same taste - for the exercise of their limbs, the same indifference to the - inclemencies of the weather, the same coarseness of language, the - same undisguised sensuality.</p> - </blockquote> - - <p>Before he grew too fat, Henry VIII was so fond of wrestling that he - took a fall out of Francis I on the field of the Cloth of Gold.</p> - - <blockquote> - <p>“That,” says the historian of English literature, “is how a common - soldier or a bricklayer nowadays tries a new comrade. In fact, - they regarded gross jests and brutal buffooneries as amusements, - as soldiers and bricklayers do now. * * * They thought insults - and obscenity a joke. They were foul-mouthed, they listened to - Rabelais’ words undiluted, and delighted in conversation that - would revolt us. They had no respect for humanity; the rules of - proprieties and the habits of good breeding began only in the time - of Louis XIV, and by imitation of the French.”</p> - </blockquote> - - <p>Such were “our sturdy Anglo-Saxon ancestors” from whom we inherit our - no good opinion of the law and our selfish indisposition to the penalty - of death.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">327</span> - <h3 id="ON_THE_USES_OF_EUTHANASIA">ON THE USES OF EUTHANASIA</h3> - </div> - - <h4>I</h4> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE proposal to forestall a painful death by a painless one is not, - to normal sensibilities, “shocking.” If persuaded of its expediency - no physician should give it a hesitating advocacy through fear of - being thought brutal. It is an error to suppose that familiarity with - death and suffering exhausts the springs of compassion in one born - compassionate. Like many other qualities, compassion grows by use: none - has more of it than the physician, the nurse, the soldier in war. He - to whom the menace of an injustice is a louder voice than the call of - conscience has no standing in the House of Pain, no warrant to utter - judgment as to the conduct of its affairs.</p> - - <p>Pain is cruel, death is merciful. Prolongation of a mortal agony is - hardly less barbarous than its infliction. Who when sane in mind and - body would not choose to guard himself against a futile suffering by - an assurance of accelerated release? Every memory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">328</span> is charged with - instances, observed or related, of piteous appeals for death from the - white lips of agony, yet how rarely can these formulate the prayer!</p> - - <p>To its concession, regulated by law, there is the objection that - law is frangible and judgment fallible. But that objection has no - greater cogency in this than in other matters; laws we must have, and - execute them with such care as we can. Our courts sometimes err in the - diagnosis of crime, yet they warrant our trust in the general service - of our need. The mariner’s compass is fallible, the winds baffle and - the waves destroy; yet we have navigation. Even the anarchist cries - out against law, not because it does not accomplish its purpose, but - because, roughly, it does.</p> - - <p>We build civilization with such tools as we have; if we waited for - perfect ones the structure would never rise. The juror is no more - nearly just and infallible than the physician; if we can entrust - ourselves with death as a penalty for crime we need not shrink from - the no more awful responsibility of according it as a boon to hopeless - pain. In neither case can a blunder do more than hasten the inevitable. - “When I was born I cried,” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">329</span> a philosopher; “now I know why.” He - did not know why; it was because at the moment of his birth Nature - spoke the sentence of his death.</p> - - <p>It may be that proponents of euthanasia for suffering incurables are - pushing their adventurous feet too far ahead in the march of mind to - expect anything better in the nature of encouragement than a copious - dead-catting and bad-egging from laggard processionists arear. - Sometimes, however, they get decenter treatment than they have the - hardihood to claim: occasionally, through the roar of calumniation is - heard the voice of dull and dignified protestation, even of argument. - For example, <i>The British Medical Journal</i> once pointed out, with - more gravity than grammar, that “the medical profession has always - strongly set its face against a measure that would inevitably pave - the way to the grossest abuses, and which would degrade them to the - position of executioners.”</p> - - <p>I don’t know that the medical profession speaks with any special - authority in a matter of this kind. Perhaps it knows a little better - than other trades and professions that cases of hopeless agony are - of frequent occurrence, but as to the expediency of relieving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">330</span> them - by the compassionate <i>coup de grâce</i>—of that a physician is no - better judge than anyone else. As to the fear of being “degraded to the - position of executioners,” the position is not degrading. The office of - executioner—even when execution is punishment, not mercy—is, and should - be considered, an almost sacred office. Its popular disrepute harks - back to the bad old days when a majority of the people in countries - now partly civilized were criminal in act or sympathy, living in hate - and terror of the law—the days of Tyburn Tree with its roaring mobs, - cheering the malefactor and pelting the hangman. It was not from fear - of a merely social reprobation that the mediæval headsman wore a mask; - it was from fear of being torn to pieces if ever recognized unguarded - in the public street. A man of to-day, ambitious to prove his descent - from a criminal ancestry, can most easily do so by damning the hangman. - His humble origin is no disgrace to him if he is a good citizen, but it - makes him invincible to the suasion of argument against his fad. One - might as profitably attempt to reform the color of his eyes or dissuade - him from the shape of his nose.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">331</span></p> - - <h4>II</h4> - - <p>“It is a physician’s mission to cure disease and alleviate suffering,” - says Dr. Nehemiah Nickerson. “There is a point beyond which he can not - cure disease; after that it is his duty to alleviate suffering.”</p> - - <p>A mission implies a mandate; a mandate an authority superior to that of - the missionary. I do not know from what higher authority a physician - derives his own, nor who has the right to lay down the lines within - which his activity must lie. Within the civil and the moral law he is - a free agent—free to observe or disregard the customs of his trade, as - conscience may determine. He has no mandate, no mission.</p> - - <p>It is true, however, that to cure disease and to alleviate suffering - are purposes commonly recognized as important among those belonging - to the practice of medicine. Having failed to accomplish the first, - how far may a physician go in accomplishing the second?—that is a - question that finds no answer in any imaginary mandate. It is not even - answered by the Decalogue, for the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” - has so many obvious and necessary limitations that its value<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">332</span> as a - guide to conduct is virtually nothing. Dr. Nickerson believes he may go - so far as to kill the patient he can not cure. Moreover, he candidly - affirms his habit of doing so. I am told that he is a distinguished - physician; there is apparently nothing in his frank avowal to lessen - his distinction. It would not surprise, indeed, if his fame should take - attention from even the officers of the law. To make himself an object - of lively interest in quarters where the several kinds of distinction - in his profession are commonly overlooked he has only to descend from - generals to particulars, naming the patients whom he has turned out of - the frying-pan of physical pain into whatever state awaited them, and - the means (under Providence) which he employed to that end.</p> - - <p>A man may be the best judge of what he is for, but by laymen unskilled - in physic it is usually held that a physician’s business is not only - to cure disease and alleviate suffering, but to prolong life—to - save it altogether being impossible, for all must eventually die. - But laymen have no mandate always to be right; now and again they - have been in error. The righteousness and expediency of releasing an - incurable sufferer from the horrors of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">333</span> life should not be clouded and - discredited by an erring advocacy.</p> - - <p>When a horse or a dog incurs the mischance of a broken back no question - is raised as to the propriety of “putting it out of its misery.” Unable - to cure it, we kill it, and in doing so feel a comfortable sense of - benevolence, a consciousness of having performed a disagreeable duty, - of having discharged an obligation inseparable from our dominion over - the beasts of the field. It may be said that in the instance of a human - being similarly incurable the dominion is lacking. But that does not - go to the root of the matter, and is, moreover, untrue; for a helpless - man is as much subject to our power as a helpless animal, and as much - a charge upon our good will. And in many cases he is as little capable - of deciding wisely what is good for him. A wounded bird or squirrel - will manifest a strong indisposition to be “put out of misery,” by - struggling to escape into the bush; a man will sometimes beg for death, - even when he does not know himself incurable. If there should be a - difference in the treatment of the two in respect of the matter in hand - it would seem that the beast should be spared and the man killed.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">334</span></p> - - <p>But Dr. Nickerson’s critics think that a different rule should hold, - because the man is an immortal soul, whereas the beast is a thing of - to-day, divinely ordained to “perish.” To this it may be said in reply: - All the stronger reason for a reversal of our practice, for in putting - the man out of his misery you would not really kill, but only change, - him; but the animal having only one life, in taking that you make him - “poor indeed,” depriving him of all that he has.</p> - - <p>That the man is an immortal soul is, however, a proposition which, - after centuries of discussion, remains unsettled; and those who hold - Dr. Nickerson’s view must in conscience forego the advantage of the - argument which their generous opponents try to thrust upon them. If - we actually knew human beings to be immortal many of the current - popular objections to killing them would disappear, and not only - soldiers but physicians and assassins could work at their trades with - a comparatively free hand, along lines of usefulness not always and - entirely divergent. Surely there could be no great wrong in “removing” - a good Christian, whether he were ill at ease or not: to translate - him to the shining altitudes of Paradise is distinctly to augment the - sum<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">335</span> of human happiness. For that matter, it would not be difficult to - demonstrate logically the proposition that any Christian may rightly - slay any other Christian upon whom he can lay his hands. True, he is - forbidden by his religion to do so. All the more noble and generous - of him to invite eternal punishment in order to abridge his brother’s - season of earthly trial, insure him against backsliding and usher him - at once into the Kingdom of Delights. In point of mere expediency a - general observance of this high duty is open to the objection that - it would somewhat reduce the church militant in point of numerical - strength. But this is perhaps a digression.</p> - - <p>It is urged that not knowing the purposes of the Creator in creating - and giving us life, we should endure (and make our helpless friends - endure) whatever ills befall, lest by death we ignorantly frustrate the - divine plan. Merely pausing to remark that the plan of an omnipotent - Deity is not easily frustrated, I should like to point out that in - this very ignorance of the purpose of existence lies a justification - of putting an end to it. I did not ask for existence; it was thrust - upon me without my assent. As He who gave it has permitted it to become - an affliction to me, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">336</span> has not apprised me of its advantages to - others or to Himself, I am not bound to assume that it has any such - advantages. If when in my despair I ask why I ought to continue a - life of suffering I am uncivilly denied an answer, I am not bound to - believe, and in lack of light may be unable to believe, that the answer - if given would satisfy me. So the game having gone against me and the - dice appearing to be loaded, I may rightly and reasonably quit.</p> - - <p>That is the way that a logical patient would probably reason if - incurable and in great pain. I confess my inability to discern the - fallacy of his argument. Indeed, it seems to me that so far as concerns - baffling the divine purpose the patient who calls in a physician and - tries to recover is more obviously guilty of attempting to do that than - the patient who tries to die. To an understanding that accepts life as - a gift from God, illness might very naturally seem a divine intimation - of God’s altered mind. To one thinking after that fashion voluntary - death would necessarily appear as cheerful submission to the divine - will, and the taking of medicine as impious rebellion.</p> - - <p>The right of suicide implies and carries with it the right to put to - death a sufferer incurably<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">337</span> ill; for the relief which we claim for - ourselves we cannot righteously deny to those in our care. We would - naturally expect a medical advocate of suicide to kill a patient - occasionally, as humanity may suggest and opportunity serve. Dr. - Nickerson’s frankness is shocking, but on a survey of the entire - question it seems a good deal easier to point out his infractions of - the law than his disloyalty to reason and the higher sentiments which - distinguish us from the priests that perish.</p> - - <p>1899.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">338</span> - <h3 id="THE_SCOURGE_OF_LAUGHTER">THE SCOURGE OF LAUGHTER</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE world is growing wiser. Ancient Error is drawing off his defeated - forces, the rear guard blinking in the destructive light of reason - and science. It has now been ascertained that wrinkles are not caused - by care and grief, but by laughing. Such is the dictum of an eminent - physician, and it is becoming in us laymen to accept it with due - humility and govern ourselves accordingly, subduing the rebellious - diaphragm and mortifying the countenance. More easily said than done, - doubtless, but what that is easily done is worth doing?</p> - - <p>It is to be feared that much of the laughing that is done has its - energizing motive in some fundamental principle of human nature not - affectable by human will; that we frequently laugh from causes beyond - our control, between which and the thing we think we laugh at there - is no other relation than coincidence in point of time. That which we - happen to have in attention at the time of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">339</span> the mysterious impulse is - mistaken as the cause of the impulse and thought comic, whereas it - has no such character, and under other circumstances would have been - thought a very serious matter. This view is abundantly confirmed by - observation. Men have been known to laugh even when reading the work of - the professional humorist, when listening to a story at a club, when - in the very presence of a negro minstrel. It is difficult, indeed, to - mention environing conditions so dispiriting as to assure gravity.</p> - - <p>But there is a kind of laughter essentially different in origin. It is - not spontaneous, but induced. It has not, like death, all seasons for - its own—is not a purely subjective phenomenon, like hereditary gout, - but requires the conspiracy of occasion and stimulation by something - outside the laughter; for examples a candidate’s assurance of devotion - to the public interest, a pig standing on its head, or an editorial - article by Deacon George Harvey.</p> - - <p>It is clear that by diligence, vigilance and determination this latter - kind of laughter can be greatly reduced in frequency, intensity and - duration, and its ravages upon the human countenance stayed to that - extent. We have only to keep ourselves out of the way of its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">340</span> exciting - causes. If we find ourselves within ear-shot of the candidate attesting - his love of the people we can close our ears and retire. Seeing a pig - preparing to stand on its head, we may turn away our eyes and fix the - mind upon some solemn subject—Mark Twain at the grave of Adam, or Adam - at the grave of Mark Twain. Catching the sense of a Harvey editorial we - can lay down the paper and put a stone on it. So shall our faces retain - their pristine smoothness, enabling us to falsify with impunity the - family Bible record with regard to date of birth.</p> - - <p>It is of course impossible to enumerate here many of the things to be - sought or avoided in order not to laugh and grow wrinkled, but two - are so obviously important that they force themselves forward for - mention. Our reading should be confined as much as possible to the - comic weeklies, and we should give a wide berth to those dailies which - deem it their duty to rebuke the commercial spirit of the age. It is - believed that by taking these two precautions against the furrowing - fingernails of Mirth one can retain a fresh and youthful rotundity of - countenance to the end of one’s days and transmit it to those who come - after.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">341</span> - <h3 id="THE_LATE_LAMENTED">THE LATE LAMENTED</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">HOW long one must be dead before his “relics”—including not only his - remains proper, but the several appurtenances thereunto belonging—cease - to be “sacred,” is a question which has never been settled. London was - once divided in opinion, or rather in feeling, as to the propriety - of publicly exhibiting the body-linen worn by Charles I when that - unhappy monarch had the uncommon experience of losing his head. Not - only was this underwear shown, but also some of the royal hair which - was cut away by the headsman. Many persons considered the exhibition - distasteful and in a measure sacrilegious. But the entire body of the - great Rameses has been dug out and is freely shown without provoking a - protest.</p> - - <p>Rameses was a mightier king than Charles, and a more famous. He was the - veritable Pharaoh of sacred history whose daughter (who, I regret to - say, was also his wife) found<span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">342</span> the infant Moses in the bulrushes. He - could also point with pride to his record in profane history, and was, - altogether, a most respectable person. Between the power, splendor and - civilization of the Egypt of Rameses and the England of Charles there - is no comparison: in the imperishable glory of the former the latter - seems a nation of savage pigmies. Why, then, are the actual remains of - the one monarch considered a fit and proper “exhibit” in a museum and - the mere personal adornments of the other too sacred for desecration - by the public eye? Probably political and ethnic considerations have - something to do with it: perhaps in Cairo the sentiment would be the - other way, though the stoical indifference of successive Egyptian - Governments to mummy-mining by the thrifty European does not sustain - that view.</p> - - <p>Schliemann and many of his moling predecessors have dug up and removed - the sleeping ancients from what these erroneously believed to be their - last resting-places in Asia Minor and the other classic countries, - without rebuke, and the funeral urn of an illustrious Roman can be - innocently haled from its pigeon-hole in a <i>columbarium</i>. We open - the burial mounds of our Indian predecessors<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">343</span> and pack off their skulls - with never a thought of wrong, and even the bones of our own early - settlers when in course of removal to make way for a new city hall - are treated with but scant courtesy. There seems to be no statute of - limitations applicable to the sanctity of tombs; every case is judged - on its merits, with a certain loose regard to local conditions and - considerations of expediency.</p> - - <p>It was an ancient belief that the shade of even the most worthy - deceased could not enter Elysium so long as the body was unburied, - but no provision was made for expulsion of those already in if their - bodies were exhumed and used as “attractions” for museums. So we may - reasonably hope that the companions of Agamemnon contemplate the - existence of Schliemanns with philosophic indifference; and doubtless - Rameses the Great, who, according to the religion of his country, had - an immortality conditioned on the preservation of his mortal part, is - as well content that it lie in a museum as in a pyramid.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">344</span> - <h3 id="DETHRONEMENT_OF_THE_ATOM">DETHRONEMENT OF THE ATOM</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">IT is of course to be expected that the advance of scientific knowledge - will destroy, here and there, a cherished illusion. It was so when - Darwin showed us that we are not made of mud, but have “just growed.” - At least that is what Darwin is by many held to have done, and deep - is their resentment. In a general way it may be said that the path of - scientific progress is strewn with the mouldering bones of our dearest - creations.</p> - - <p>To this melancholy company must now be added the precious Atom. It - has had a fairly long reign, has the atom; the youths who first - worshiped at its shrine are in the lean and slippered pantaloon stage - of existence. It will be all the harder for them to see their idol - depedestaled.</p> - - <p>That the atom was the ultimate unit of matter, the absolute smallest - thing in the universe, a fraction incapable of further division—that is - what we had been commanded to believe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">345</span> by those in authority over the - many things of science. And with such powers of conviction as we are - gifted withal we had believed.</p> - - <p>Now, what do we hear—what do we hear? Why, that an atom is an - aggregation of electrons! These are so much smaller than atoms that the - latter can be easily conceived as cut in halves—nay, chopped into hash. - Before the inven—that is to say, the discovery—of the electron such a - thing as that was unthinkable. So, at each enlargement of the field of - knowledge the human mind receives new powers. The time may come when we - shall be able (with an effort) to conceive the division of an electron.</p> - - <p>The difference in magnitude, or rather minitude, between our old friend - the atom and this new though doubtless excellent thing, the other - thing, is characteristically expounded thus:</p> - - <p>“If an electron is represented by a sphere an inch in diameter, an atom - on the same scale is a mile and a half. Or, if an atom is represented - by the size of a theater, an electron is represented on the same scale - by a printer’s full stop.”</p> - - <p>The electron, it seems, is not only unthinkably little; it is - impalpable, invisible, inaudible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_346">346</span> and probably insipid and inodorous. - In brief, it is immaterial. It is not matter, though matter is composed - of it. That is easy to understand if one has a scientific mind.</p> - - <p>Not only are electrons immaterial, or at least inconceivably - attenuated; they are immense distances apart—immense in comparison with - their bulk. Likewise, they are inconceivably rapid in motion about a - common center. The electrons forming a single atom are analogous to our - solar system, but whether there is a big electron in the center science - does not as yet tell us.</p> - - <p>When a steam hammer descends upon a piece of steel it merely strikes - the outside of an infinite aggregation of moving, impalpable things - widely separated in space. But they stop the hammer.</p> - - <p>Scientists know these facts, and we know that they know them—this is - our delightful part in the matter. But we do not know how they know - them—that is not granted to our humble degree of merit. As we grow - in grace, we may perhaps hope to be told, preferably in words of one - syllable, how they learned it all; how they count the electrons; how - they measure them; with what kind of instrument they determine their - actual and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_347">347</span> comparative magnitudes, and so forth. No doubt the columns - of the newspapers are open to them for explanation and exposition even - now.</p> - - <p>In the meantime let us be pleasant about it. It is more amiable to - believe without comprehending than to comprehend without believing.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_348">348</span> - <h3 id="DOGS_FOR_THE_KLONDIKE">DOGS FOR THE KLONDIKE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE spectacle of great tides of men sweeping hither and thither across - the face of the globe under suasion of so mean a passion as cupidity, - as the waters of ocean are led by the moon, is more spectacular than - pleasant. See in it however much one prophetically may of future empire - and civilizations growing where none grew before—hear as one can on - every breeze that blows from the newest and richest placers the hum - of the factory to be, the song of the plowman (such as it is) and - the drone of the Sunday sermon, replacing “the petulant pop of the - pistol”—yet one can not be altogether insensible to the hideousness - of the motive out of which all these pleasing results are to come. - Doubtless in looking at the pond-lily a healthy mind makes light - account of the muck and slime at the bottom of the pond, whence it - derives its glories; but while the muck and slime only are in evidence, - the water and the flower mere presumptions of the future, the case is a - trifle different.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_349">349</span></p> - - <p>It is conceded that out of this mad movement to the Klondike great good - may come. Many of those who go to dig will remain to plow, jocundly - driving their teams afield to tickle the tundra till it laughs in - pineapples, bananas and guavas. It is not denied that great cities - (with roof-gardens and slums) will rise like exhalations along the - mighty Yukon, nor that that noble stream will know the voice of the - gondolier and the lute of the lover. In place of the moose and the - caribou, the patient camel will kneel in the shade of palms to receive - his cargo of dates, spices and native silks.</p> - - <p>But just now the Klondike region is a trifle raw. In the stark - simplicity of life there men do not veil their characters with a - shining hypocrisy; all, by their presence in that unutterable country, - being convicted of the greed for gold, every man feels that it is - useless to profess any of the virtues; as the discharged inmate of a - reformatory institution has no choice but a life of crime. Later, when - the beneficent influences that track the miner to his gulch shall have - set up a more complex social system under which the presumption of a - base motive may be less strong, we shall hear, doubtless, of Dawsonians - and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_350">350</span> even Skagwegians who would take the trouble to deny an accusation - of theft and to affirm a disposition to go to church between drinks on - a Sunday.</p> - - <p>Ugly as these “rushes” to mining regions seem to one unskilled in use - of the muck-rake and a stranger to avarice—discouraging as they are to - the good optimist, and correspondingly delightful to his natural enemy, - the wicked pessimist—yet it must be confessed that in the present - rush there is one feature that goes far in mitigation of its general - unpleasantness: it has created in distant and unwholesome regions a - demand for the domestic dog.</p> - - <p>For the first time in his immemorial existence this comfortable - creature has thrown open to him a wide field of usefulness of exactly - the kind that he deserves—a long way from the comforts of home, - imperfectly supplied with beef-steaks, cold as blazes, with plenty of - hard work and the worst society in the world!</p> - - <p>“Good long-haired dogs” are “quoted” in Dawson at one hundred and - fifty to two hundred dollars. Such prices ought to result in drawing - all that kind of dogs out of the rest of the country, which in itself - would be a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_351">351</span> great public benefaction; for the popular belief in the - superior virtues of the long-haired dog is a lamentable error. The type - and exemplar of that variety, the so-called Newfoundland, is, in point - of general, all-round unworth, superior to any living thing that we - have the advantage to know. Not only is his bite more deadly than that - of the ordinary snapdog, but that of the fleas which he cherishes is - peculiarly insupportable. The fleas of all other dogs merely sadden; - those of the Newfoundland madden to crime! His fragrance, moreover, - is less modest than that of even the Skye terrier; it is distinctly - declarative. A charming fiction ascribes to him a tender solicitude for - drowning persons, especially children; but history may be searched in - vain for a single authentic proof—and history is not over-scrupulous in - the matter of veracity. Every one has heard and read of rescues from - drowning, by Newfoundland dogs, but no human being ever saw one. It is - to be hoped that the hyperborean demand for “good long-haired dogs” - will not fall upon heedless ears.</p> - - <p>The Great Dane is not a “long-haired” dog, but he is large and strong, - and should be wanted in the Klondike country. His size<span class="pagenum" id="Page_352">352</span> and strength - would there be his best recommendations; here they are his worst. - Having a giant’s strength he uses it as a giant, and his multiplication - in the land is a terror and a curse. His manner of unloading a bicycle - has been justly described as the acme of inconsiderateness. Moreover, - he is increasing all the time in magnitude as well as in quantity; at - his present rate of growth he will within a decade or so overtop the - horse and outnumber the sheep. There will be no resisting him. But what - an excellent roadster he would be in Alaska! The brevity of his hair is - really an advantage: in calculating his load less allowance will need - to be made for icicles. Indubitably the value of a Great Dane in Dawson - is at least one thousand dollars.</p> - - <p>The most pernicious varieties of the species—the small animated - pestilences upon which our ladies waste so much of the affection - which, it is reverently submitted, might with better results be - bestowed upon the males of their own species—these pampered laplings - are unfortunately not useful for draught purposes in the Arctic. One - of them could not pull a tin plate from Squottacoota to Nickalinqua. - So they are not “quoted” in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_353">353</span> Dawson market reports. But something - has been overlooked: the incomparable excellence of their flesh! It is - respectfully suggested that a few of these curled darlings and glossy - sweethearts be sent to the Klondike, suitably canned and spiced as - commercial samples. The miners may be assured that the flesh is not - only wholesome, but is entirely free from that objectionable delicacy - that distinguishes, for example, the yellow-legged pullet; it is - honestly rank and strong and has plenty of “chew” in it—just the right - kind of meat for founders of empires and heralds of civilization. A - dozen cans of Dandy Dinmont or King Charles Spaniel should have in - Dawson an actual value of three thousand dollars, but doubtless could - be supplied at a much smaller price. So much as that would hardly be - needed in any one outfit, for such is the nutritious property of small - dog that most persons would find a single can of it enough.</p> - - <p>We are able to supply all Alaska and the Northwest Territory with dogs - and with dog. Every township has always a surplus. I invite attention - to our peerless canine wealth and to the eminent fitness of its units - for service on the northern trails and along the northern<span class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</span> alimentary - canal. Before purchasing elsewhere let the judicious Klondiker examine - our stock. He is too far away to look at it, but when the wind is in - the southeast that is needless.</p> - - <p>1898.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</span> - <h3 id="MONSTERS_AND_EGGS">MONSTERS AND EGGS</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">THE Gila Monster has at last succeeded in disclosing to Science the - trend of his appetite toward that comestible with the strong foreign - accent, the gull’s egg. That the product of the merry sea-fowl is the - creature’s regular diet in his desert habitat circumjacent to Death - Valley is a proposition so obvious that one would have thought it - self-evident, even to him on whose humble birth fair science frowned - not; yet the discovery appears to have been made by accident, as is so - frequently the case with great truths which seem so simple when we come - to know them.</p> - - <p>Now that his Monstership’s favorite food is no longer a matter of - controversy to scientists and concern to the tenderfoot, we may - reasonably hope that the interesting but hitherto misunderstood and - calumniated reptile may be domesticated among us; for there is no - longer a doubt of our ability to support him in the style to which he - is accustomed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</span> nourishing him to a proper growth and suitable flavor - for the table.</p> - - <p>In the gastronomical curriculum of the southern Red Man the Gila - Monster has always held an honorable place when well roasted - by exposure to the climate of his choice; and that aboriginal - trencherman’s dietetic practices have frequently pointed the way to - reform at the tables of the Paleface, a notable instance being his - advocacy of the potato and the tobacco leaf, in the consumption of - which he had long been happy before he discovered Columbus and Sir - Walter Raleigh. In the spud and the quid we have, doubtless, his best - benefactions to Caucasian gastronomy; but if the seed of his example - with regard to the Gila Monster do not fall upon the stony soil of - a reasonless conservatism the minor pleasures of existence may be - augmented by an addition distinctly precious, and the female gull be - accepted and venerated as a philanthropist of the deepest dye.</p> - - <p>By knowledge not only of the gratifying fact that the Monster eats - gulls’ eggs, but of the at least interesting one that he does - <i>not</i> eat the Eastern tourist, we attain to something like an - understanding of his disposition, which is seen to be peaceable and - humane.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</span> It is therefore probable that he is no more venomous when he - bites than poisonous when bitten. The current stories attesting the - noxiousness of his tooth have their origin, perhaps, in a strong sense - of his destitution of beauty; for it must be frankly confessed that the - impulchritude of his expression and general make-up is disquieting to - the last degree. But, for that matter, so is that of the toad—not only - the horned toad, which is known to be harmless, but the common hop-toad - of the garden, whose bite is believed by some to be actually wholesome. - Shakspeare was of a different conviction, but Shakspeare was not very - strong in zoology, nor was he over-conscientious in verification of - all the statements that he put into the mouths of his characters—a - circumstance which seems to have been overlooked by those who are most - addicted to quoting him.</p> - - <p>Science having done so much for the Gila Monster and, in a sense, - made him its own, will be expected by the public to carry the good - work forward by settling, once for all, the vexed question of his - brotherhood to the rattlesnake and the woman scorned. Is he really - venomous? With a view to determining the point it is to be hoped that - some unselfish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</span> investigator may permit himself to be bitten by the - accused; and I think a very proper person to make the experiment is Dr. - Theodore Roosevelt, the illustrious zoölogist who wrote the monograph - on the invertebracy of the spineless cactus.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</span> - <h3 id="MUSIC">MUSIC</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">LET him to whom, as to me, nature has denied “an ear for music,” or - circumstance an opportunity for its education, take heart and comfort: - he has escaped a masterful temptation to commit nonsense in the first - degree. Doubtless there are music makers and music lovers who can - write and speak of the art with a decent regard to the demands of - common sense, but doubtless they don’t; their history is a record of - ignored opportunities. As to the others—the chaps who push in between - our hearing and our understanding—they possibly “play by note,” but - they write “by ear.” They say whatever sounds well to themselves, and - there they leave it. Theirs is the art of sound and they expound its - principles with due observance of its results: in speaking of it they - are satisfied to make a pleasant noise. The louder the noise of their - exposition, the more glorious the art which it expounds. As members of - mystic brotherhoods are bound by oath not to divulge the solemn secrets - which they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</span> do not possess; as the married have a tacit undertaking - to wreathe their chains with flowers, smile away their wounds, and - exhibit as becoming ornaments the handles of the daggers rusting in - their hearts; as priesthoods plate with gold their empty shrines; as - the dead swear in stone and brass that they were virtuous and great—so - the musical are in conspiracy to magnify and exalt their art. It is a - pretty art: it is rich in elements of joy, purveying to the sense a - refined and keen delight. But it is not what they say it is. It is not - what the uninitiated believe it. What is?</p> - - <p>I am led to these reflections—provoked were the better word—by reading - one Krehbiel. “Wagner,” Mr. Krehbiel explains, “strove to express - artistic truths, not to tickle the ear, and therefore his work will - stand, while Italian opera, which is founded on sensual enjoyment, must - pass away.” A more amusing <i>non sequitur</i> it would be difficult - for the most accomplished logician to construct. Because the city is - founded on a rock it will topple down! I think I could name several - sorts of sensual enjoyment which give promise of enduring as long as - the senses. Among them I should give a high place to whatever kind of - music the sense of hearing most enjoys.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_361">361</span> If posterity is going to be - such an infinite fool as to stop its ears to sounds which please them, - I thank Heaven that I live in antiquity.</p> - - <p>The enjoyment of music is a purely sensual enjoyment. It “tickles the - ear,” and it does nothing else. The ear being skilfully tickled after - the fashion which the composer and the executant understand, emotion - ensues; but not thought, save by association—by memory. Music does - not touch the springs of the intellect. It never generated a process - of reasoning, nor expressed a truth, “artistic” or other, which could - be formulated in a definitive proposition. It has no intellectual - character whatever. I have heard this disputed scores of times, but - never by one who had himself much intellect. And, in truth, musicians, - if I must say it, are not commonly distinguished above their fellows by - mental capacity. The greater their gift, the less they know; and when - you find a tremendously skilful and enthusiastic executant you will - have as nearly sensual an animal as you care to catch.</p> - - <p>To those having knowledge of the essential meaning of music, its - original place among the influences that wrought their results - upon primitive man, this will seem natural and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_362">362</span> sequent. Music was - originally vocal; before men became wise enough and deft enough to - make instruments they merely sang, as the birds do now, and certain - animals—the latter pretty badly, it must be confessed. But why did - the primitive man and woman sing? To commend themselves in the matter - of love, as the birds do, and the beasts. Abundant vestiges of this - practice survive among us. The young woman who bangs her piano and her - hair has a single motive in the double habit. She is hardly conscious - of it; she has inherited it along with the desire to brandish her eyes, - and otherwise manslay. Consider, my tuneless youth, how slender is your - chance in rivalry with the fellow who can sing. He will “knock you out” - with a bar of music better than a Chinese highbinder could with a bar - of iron. It did not occur to our good arboreal ancestor (him of the - prehensile tail, aswing upon his branch) to address his wood-notes wild - to a mixed audience for gate-money; he sought to charm a single pair - of ears, and those more hairy than critical. Later, as the race went - on humaning, there grew complexity of sentiment and varying emotional - needs, for the gratification whereof song took on a matching complexity - and variance.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_363">363</span> There were war songs, and death songs, and hunting - songs, harvest songs and songs of adoration. Wood and metal were taught - to perform acceptably.</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">The shells of tortoises were made to sing,</div> - <div class="i0">And, touched in tenderness, the captive string.</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p>Did it ever occur to you, intelligent reader, that the simplest musical - instrument is a more astonishing invention than the talking phonograph? - But the human love-tone is the soul and base of the system; and should - men and women henceforth be born happily married the entire musical - edifice would fade and vanish like a palace of clouds.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_364">364</span> - <h3 id="MALFEASANCE_IN_OFFICE">MALFEASANCE IN OFFICE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">IN these days of societies for the prevention of this and that, why - can not we have a Society for the Prevention of Malfeasance in Office? - More than half of all the money paid in taxes is in one way or another - stolen. From the humblest janitorship up to the chief magistracy of the - state (both inclusive) the offices are held by men of whom a majority - are as scurvy knaves as many of those in the penitentiaries. There - is no exaggeration in this statement; it is literally, absolutely - true. Then why, it may be asked, does not the press expose all this - corruption? For many reasons, among them these: the corruption of the - press; the circumstance that malfeasance in office is no news; the - absence of a public opinion that will do more than passively approve, - whereas the private animosities engendered by exposure are active, - implacable, and dangerous; the absence of such a society as the one - suggested. An additional reason may be called, softly, the rascality - of the courts. Not all horses<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">365</span> are sorrel, and not all judges rogues. - Not all pigs have spiral tails, nor all prosecuting attorneys crooked - morals. Nevertheless he who lightly incurs law suits, relying upon the - justice of his cause, has no need to wear motley, for assuredly none - will think him other than a fool.</p> - - <p>It is in our courts that officers and members of the Society for the - Prevention of Malfeasance in Office would be least welcome and most - terrifying. Their presence would be to our boss-made judges and thrifty - district attorneys what the sudden apparition of the late Mr. Henry - Bergh used to be to draygentlemen engaged in tormenting their horses. - It would be easy, without stopping to take thought or breath, to name - a score of judges of our higher courts, in present incumbency or newly - retired, whose perturbations from that cause would attain to the - dignity of a panic.</p> - - <p>The thing is easily feasible. It requires, mainly, liberal endowment by - that class of the wealthy whose interests do not lie in the stability - of misgovernment. Zealous and incorruptible officers to investigate, - able attorneys to prosecute, honest newspapers to assist and spread the - light. These will come of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_366">366</span> themselves. A few successful prosecutions - of official offenders, a few impeachments and removals, a few hitherto - invincible rascals sent to the penitentiary, a little educating of - the people to the fact that a new power for good is risen among them, - and money will come in abundantly. Rightly conducted the Society will - become a popular favorite, accredited alike by alliance of the wise - and hostility of knaves, and fairly good government by unofficial - supervision become an accomplished fact. Apparently there is no other - way whereby it may be obtained.</p> - - <p>Of course the Society need not be named what I have called it, and the - scope of its activity should be greater than that name implies. It - should aim to prevent (by exposure and punishment) not only malfeasance - in office, but all manner of sins and stupidities in public life. Our - existing machinery for obtaining honest and intelligent government - is altogether inadequate; it breaks down at all points and—fatal - defect!—it is not automatic. The laws do not enforce themselves—not - even the laws for enforcing the laws. The “wheels of justice” are - easily “blocked” because nobody is concerned to put his shoulder to - them. Who will come forward and provide<span class="pagenum" id="Page_367">367</span> a motor for this inert and - sluggish mechanism? Here is as good an opportunity for distinction as - one can want. But let no one seek to grasp it who has not a strong - hand and a hard head; there will be bloody noses and cracked crowns - enow, God wot. If one have a taste for fighting he can have it by - the bellyful. If he enjoy ridicule, calumniation, persecution, they - shall come to him in quantity to fit his appetite. Maylike he shall - have knowledge of how it feels to sleep in field-feathers on stone. - But assuredly there are for that man, if he be of the right kidney, - an imperishing renown and “the thanks of millions yet to be.” Let him - stand forth. Let him fall to and organize. Let him tout the country - for subscriptions and begin. In the end he shall find that the little - fire that he kindled has spread over all the land with a crackling - consumption of rascalry; and his children’s children shall warm them in - the memory.</p> - - <p>1881.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_368">368</span> - <h3 id="FOR_STANDING_ROOM">FOR STANDING ROOM</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">AT no time in the world’s history have the relations between laborers - and employers of labor received so much attention as now. All men who - think are thinking of them, the meditation being quickened by the - importance of the interests involved, the sharp significance of some - of their observed phenomena and the conditions entailing them. Among - these last, one of the most important is overpopulation in civilized - countries; and it is only in such countries that any controversy has - arisen between—to speak in the current phrase—capital and labor. - Despite the magnitude and frequency of modern wars, the population of - all civilized countries increases in the most astonishing way. In the - six great nations of Europe the increase since the Napoleonic wars has - been between fifty and sixty per cent. In this country our progression - is geometrical—we double our population every twenty-five years!</p> - - <p>Conquest and commerce have brought the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_369">369</span> whole world under contribution - to the strong nations. Inter-communication has reduced the areas of - privation and almost effaced those of famine. Railways and steamships - and banks and exchanges have diminished the friction between producer - and consumer. By sanitary and medical science the average length of - human life has been increased. Chemistry has taught us how to fertilize - the fields, forestry and engineering how to prevent both inundation - and drought, invention how to master the adverse forces of Nature and - make alliance with the friendly ones by labor-saving machinery, so that - the work of one man will now sustain many in idleness—with no lack of - persons who by birth, breeding, disposition and taste are eligible to - sustentation. The milder sway of modern government, the elimination - of the “gory tyrant” as a factor in the problem of existence and the - better protection of property and life have had, even directly, no - mean influence on the death rate. These and many other causes have - combined to make the conditions of life so comparatively easy that an - extraordinary impetus has been given to the business of living; mankind - may be said to have taken it up as a congenial pursuit. The cloud of - despair that shadowed the face<span class="pagenum" id="Page_370">370</span> of all Europe during those centuries - of misrule and ignorance fitly called the Dark Ages has lifted, and - multitudes are thronging into the sunshine. It is not a perfect beam, - but its warmth and lumination are incomparably superior to anything - of which the older generations ever dreamed. But the result is over - population, and the result of over population is war, pestilence, - famine, rapine, immorality, ignorance, anarchy, despotism, slavery, - decivilization—depopulation!</p> - - <p>This is man’s eternal round; this is the course of “progress”; in this - circle moves the “march of mind.” The one goal of civilization is - barbarism; to the condition whence it emerged a nation must return, and - every invention, every discovery, every beneficent agency hastens the - inevitable end. An ancient civilization would last a thousand years; - confined to the same boundaries, a modern civilization would exhaust - itself in half that time; but by emigration and interchange we uphold - ourselves till all can go down together. One people cannot relapse till - all similar peoples are ready.</p> - - <p>Already we discern ominous instances of the working of the universal - law. Consciously or unconsciously, all the modern<span class="pagenum" id="Page_371">371</span> statesmen of Europe - are contesting for “territorial aggrandizement.” They desire both - extension of boundaries and colonial possessions. They quarrel with the - statesmen of neighboring nations on this pretext and on that, and send - their armies of invasion to capture and hold provinces. They dispatch - their navies to distant seas to take possession of unconsidered - islands. They must have more of the earth’s surface upon which to - settle their surplus populations. All the wars of modern Europe have - that ultimate, underlying cause.</p> - - <p>The battle knows not why it is fought. It is for standing room. If - it were not for the horrors of war the horrors of peace would be - appalling. Peace is more fatal than war, for all must die, and in peace - more are born. The bullet forestalls the pestilence by proffering a - cleaner and decenter death.</p> - - <p>What has all this to do with the labor question? “Industrial - discontent” has many causes, but the chief is over-population. (In - this country it is as yet a “coming event,” but its approach is rapid, - and already it has “cast its shadow before.”) Where there are too many - producers they are thinned out to make an army, which serves the double - purpose of keeping the rest of them in subjection and resisting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_372">372</span> the - pressure from without. Armies are to fight with; no nation dares long - maintain one in idleness; it is too costly for a toy; the people burn - to see it put to practical use. They do not love it; they promise - themselves the advantage of seeing it killed; but when the killing - begins their blood is up and they want to go soldiering.</p> - - <p>Our labor troubles—our strikes, boycotts, riots, dynamitation, can have - but one outcome. We are not exempt from the inexorable. We shall soon - hear a general clamor for increase of the army—to protect us against - aggression from the east and the west. We shall have the army.</p> - - <p>That is as far as one cares to follow the current of events into the - dubious regions of prediction. What lies beyond is momentous enough - to be waited for; but any man who fails to discern the profound - significance of the events amongst which he is moving to-day may justly - boast himself impregnable to the light.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_373">373</span> - <h3 id="THE_JEW">THE JEW</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">A NOTED Jewish rabbi has been uttering his mind concerning - “manufacturers of mixed marriages”—clergymen, that is to say, who marry - Christians to Jewesses and Jews to Christianesses. In the opinion - of this gentleman of God such marriages are accursed, and those of - his pious brethren who assist the devil in bringing them about are - imperfectly moral. Doubtless it is desirable that the parties to a - marriage should cherish the same form of religious error, lest in - their zeal to save each other’s immortal part they lay too free a hand - upon the part that is mortal. But domestic infelicity is not the evil - that the learned doctor has in apprehension: what he fears is nothing - less momentous than the extinction of Judaism! On consideration it - appears not unlikely that in a general blending of races that result - would ensue. But what then?—will the hand of some great anarch let the - curtain fall and universal darkness cover all? Will the passing of - Judaism be attended<span class="pagenum" id="Page_374">374</span> with such discomfortable befallings as the wreck - of matter and the crush of worlds?</p> - - <p>Good old Father Time has seen the genesis, development, decay and - effacement of thousands of religions far more ancient and quite as - well credentialed as that of Israel. The most daring of that faith’s - expounders will hardly claim for it an age exceeding a half-dozen - millenniums; whereas the least venturesome anthropologian will affirm - for the human race an antiquity of hundreds. It is hardly likely that - the world has ever been without great religions, of which all but a few - (so new that they smell of paint and varnish) are as dead as the dodo. - No portents foreshadowed their extinction, no cataclysms followed. The - world went spinning round the sun in its immemorial way; men lived - and loved, fought, laughed, cursed, lied, gathered gold and dreamed - of an after-life as before. No mourners follow the hearse of a dead - religion, no burial service is read at the grave. Does the good rabbi - really believe that the faith which he professes, rooted in time, will - flourish in eternity? Can he suppose that its fate will be different - from that of its predecessors, whose temples, rearing their fronts in - great cities, the seats of mighty civilizations in every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_375">375</span> part of the - habitable globe, have perished with the empires that they adorned, and - left not a vestige nor a memory behind? Does he think that of all the - incalculable religions that have swept in successive dream-waves the - ocean of mystery his alone marks a continuous current setting toward - some shining shore of truth and life and bearing thither all ships - obedient to its trend?</p> - - <p>I can not help thinking that the pious rabbi would better serve his - people by less zeal in broadening and blackening the delimiting lines - by which their foolish fathers circumscribed their sympathies and - interests and made their race a peculiar people, peculiarly disliked. - The best friend of the Jews is not he who confirms them in their narrow - and resented exclusiveness, but he who persuades them of its folly, - advises them to a larger life than is comprised in rites and rituals, - the ceremonies and symbolisms of a long-dead past, and strives to show - them that the world is wider than Judea and God more than a private - tutor to the children of Israel.</p> - - <p>Why do they fear effacement by absorption? If the entire Jewish race - should disappear (as sooner or later all races do) that would not mean - that the Jews were dead, but that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_376">376</span> Judaism was dead. No single life - would have gone out because of that, and all that is good in the race - would live, suffusing and perhaps ennobling the characters of races - having still a name. All that is useful and true in Jewish law and - Jewish letters and Jewish art would be preserved to the world; the rest - could well be spared. Even the rabbis’ occupation would not be gone: - they would thrive as priests of another faith. Man is not likely to - cease forming himself into “congregations,” for he likes to see his - teachers “close to.” Even if preaching were abolished many kinds of - light and profitable employment would remain.</p> - - <p>As matters now are, mixed marriages—between Jew and Gentile—are not to - be advised. But matters are now not as they should be, nor does our - holy friend’s teaching tend to make them so. Let the Jew learn why he - is subject to hate and persecution by the Gentile. It is not, as he - professes to think, and doubtless does think, because his ancestors, - ages ago, denied the Godhood and demanded the life of another Jew. - Other races and sects deny Christ without offense; and the Gentile who - daily crucifies him afresh is no less active in dislike of the Jew - than the most devout Christian<span class="pagenum" id="Page_377">377</span> of them all. Christ and Christianity - have nothing to do with it. Nor is the explanation found in the Jew’s - superior thrift, nor in any of those commercial qualities whereby, - legitimately or illegitimately, he gets the better of his Gentile - competitor; though those advantages too pitilessly used against - a stupid and improvident peasantry have sometimes compelled his - expatriation by sovereigns who cared no more what he believed than what - he ate.</p> - - <p>The Christians will cease to dislike and persecute the Jews when - the Jews abandon their affronting claim to special and advantageous - relations with the Lord of All. The claim would be no less irritating - if well founded, as many Christians believe that once it was. When has - it not been observed that a favorite child is hated by its brothers and - sisters? Did not the brethren of Joseph seek his undoing? In missing - the lesson of it the Jew “recks not his own rede.” When was it not - thought an insult to say, “I am holier than thou,” and when did not - small minds “strike back” with brutal hands? The Christian mind is a - small mind, the Christian hand a brutal hand.</p> - - <p>The Jew may reply: “I do not say so;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_378">378</span> in the pulpit I forbear to - denounce other peoples and other creeds as outside the law and devoid - of the divine grace.” In words he does not say so, but he says so with - emphasis in his care to preserve his racial and religious isolation; in - his practice of self-mutilation and the affronting reasons in which he - disguises his consciousness of the shame of it; in his maintenance of - a spiritual quarantine; in the diligence with which he repairs time’s - ravages in his Great Wall, lest Nature take advantage of the breach - and some caroling Gentile youth leap lightly through to claim a Jewish - maid. In a thousand ways, all having for purpose the safeguarding of - his racial isolation in a ghetto of his own invention, the orthodox - Jew shouts aloud his conviction of his superior holiness and peculiar - worth. Naturally, the echo is not unmixed with Christian denial, - formulated too frequently into unrighteous decrees by the voice of - authority.</p> - - <p>None than I can have a greater regard for the Jewish character, as - found at its best in the higher types of the Jewish people, and not - found at all in those members of the race who alone are popularly - thought of as Jews. None than I can have a deeper detestation of - the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_379">379</span> spirit at the back of persecution of the Jews, in all its forms - and degrees. Rather than have a hand in it I would have no hand. Yet - I venture to say that if a high degree of contributory negligence, - constituting a veritable invitation to evil, is foolish the calamity - entailed is entitled to a place in the list of expectable phenomena; - and if a certain presumptuous self-righteousness is bad its natural and - inevitable punishment is not entirely undeserved.</p> - - <p>In the mud that the Christian hand flings at the Jew there is a little - gold; in the Christian’s dislike of him there is what the assayers and - analysts call “a trace” of justice. He who thinks that whole races of - men, through long periods of time, hate for nothing has considered - history to little purpose and knows not well the constitution of - the human mind. It should seriously be considered whether, not the - chief, but the initial, fault may not be that of the Jew, who was not - always the unaggressive non-combatant, the long-suffering victim, that - centuries of oppression and repression have tended to make him. If we - may believe his own historical records, which the Christian holds in - even higher veneration than he does himself, he was once a very bad - neighbor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_380">380</span> No worse calamity could then befall a feeble people than - the attention of an Israelite king. Believing themselves the salt of - the earth, his warlike subjects had always in pickle a rod for every - Gentile back. Every contiguous tribe which did not accept their God - incurred their savage hatred, expressed in incredible cruelties. They - ruled their little world with an iron hand, dealing damnation round and - forcing upon their neighbors a currency of bloody noses and cracked - crowns. Even now they have not renounced their irritating claim to - primacy in the scale of being, though no longer able to assert it with - fire and sword. It is significant, however, that here in the new world, - at a long remove from the inspiring scenes of their petty power and - gigantic woes—their parochial glory and imperial abjection—they have - somewhat abated the arrogance of their pretensions; and in obvious - consequence, the brutal Christian hand is lifted more languidly against - them in service of a softened resentment.</p> - - <p>Being neither Christian nor Jew, and with only an intellectual - interest in their immemorial feud, I find in it, despite its most - tragic and pathetic incidents, something essentially comic—something - to bring a twinkle to the eye<span class="pagenum" id="Page_381">381</span> of an Apuleius and draw the merriment - of a Rabelais, “laughing sardonically in his easy chair.” That two - races of reasoning beings, inhabiting one small planet and having the - same sentiments, passions, virtues, vices and interests, should pass - loveless centuries, distrusting, hating and damaging each other is so - ludicrous a proposition that no degree of familiarity with it as a - fact suffices to deprive it altogether of its opéra bouffe character. - Nevertheless it is not to be laughed away. It must be dealt with - seriously, if at all; and it is encouraging to observe that more and - more it is taking attention in this country, where it can be considered - with less heat, and therefore more light, than elsewhere.</p> - - <p>If the Jew cares for justice he must learn, first, that it does not - exist in this world, and second, that the least intolerable form of - injustice goes by favor with the hand of fellowship; and the hand of - fellowship is not offered to him who stands austerely apart saying: “I - am holier than thou.” America has given to the Jews political and civic - equality. If they want more more is attainable. But it is their move.</p> - - <p>1898.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <div class="chapter"> - <span class="pagenum" id="Page_382">382</span> - <h3 id="WHY_THE_HUMAN_NOSE_HAS_A_WESTERN_EXPOSURE">WHY THE HUMAN NOSE HAS A WESTERN EXPOSURE</h3> - </div> - - <p class="drop-cap">WHEN Bishop Berkeley had the good luck to write,</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Westward the course of empire takes it way,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">he suggested a question which has not, to my knowledge, been adequately - answered: Why? Why do all the world’s peoples that move at all move - ever toward the west, a human tide, obedient to the suasion of some - mysterious power, setting up new “empires” superior to those enfeebled - by time, as is the fate of empires? Many a thoughtful observer has - confessed himself unable to name the law at the back or front of the - movement. Yet a law there must be: things of that kind do not come - about by accident.</p> - - <p>A natural law is one thing, a cause is another, and the cause of this - universal tendency to “go West” may not lie too deep for discovery. - May it not be that the glory of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_383">383</span> sunset has something to do with - it?—has all to do with it, for that matter. In civilization sunsets - count for little—we know too much. We know that the magical landscapes - of the sunset are “airy nothings”—optical illusions. But we inherit - instincts from primitive ancestors to whom they were less unreal. The - savage is a poet who</p> - - <div class="center-container"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="i0">Sees God in clouds, and hears Him in the wind,</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> - - <p class="noindent">reading into the visible aspects of nature many a meaning which in - the light of exact knowledge we have read out of them. Not a Grecian - of the whole imaginative race that had sight of Proteus rising from - the sea and heard old Triton blow his wreathèd horn could beat him at - that. He knows that beyond the mountains that he dares not scale, and - beyond the sea-horizon that he has not the means to transgress, lies a - land wherein are all beauty and possibilities of happiness. To him the - crimson lakes, purple promontories, golden coasts and happy isles of - cloudland are veritable presentments of actual regions below. He never - bothers his shaggy pate with the question “Can such things be?”—his - eyes tell him that they are. Why should he not have ever in heart the - wish to reach<span class="pagenum" id="Page_384">384</span> and occupy the delectable realm to which the sun daily - points the way and sometimes discloses? That is the way he feels about - it and his forefathers felt about it, as is shown in the myths and - legends of many tribes. And because they so felt we have from them the - wanderlust that lures us ever a-west.</p> - - <p>To this hypothesis it may be objected that the cloudscapes of the - sunrise ought, logically, to offset the others, giving the race a - divided urge. But the primitive ancestor was not an early riser; he was - a notorious sluggard, as is the savage of to-day, and seldom saw the - sunrise—so seldom that its fascination did not get into the blood of - him and from his into ours. Even when he did see the cloudlands of the - dawn he was not in a frame of mind to observe them, being engrossed in - rounding up the early cave-bear or preparing an astonishment for his - sleeping enemy. But the chromatic glories of the country reflected in - the sunset sky took his attention when it was most alert. Moreover, - those of the dawn are distinctly inferior, as we are assured by - credible witnesses who have observed them, through the happy chance of - having been up all night companioning the katydids and whip-poor-wills.</p> - - <div class="transnote mt5"> - <div class="large center mb2"><b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></div> - <ul class="spaced"> - <li>Blank pages have been removed.</li> - <li>A few obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected, - otherwise inconsistent spelling has been left as is.</li> - </ul> - </div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF AMBROSE BIERCE, VOLUME 9 ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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