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THE WORKS

HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT

THE WORKS

HUBERT HOWE BANCROFT

VOLUME XXXVIII

ESSAYS AND MISCELLANY

SAN FRANCISCO
THE HISTORY COMPANY, PUBLISHERS

1890

Kiitored iiwordinB to Act of Congress in the Your 1890, by

HUBERT H. BANCROFT,
lu the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Wasliington.

Alt li'uihts Reserved.

CONTENTS OF THIS N^OLUME.
CHAPTER I.

TlIK KARI.Y AMERICAN CIIRONICLERM, 1

CHAPTER II.

TIIK NKW C'lVILIZATFON, 3g

CHAPTER III.

ROOT UIUHKRH AND GOLD DIOUERS 54

CHAPTER IV.

OITU TREATMENT OF THE NATIVB RACES 65

CHAPTER V.

HISTORY WRITINO yg

CHAPTER VI.
i;riticism, 2 j3

CHAPTER VII.

WORK j4g

CHAPTER VIII.

BAITRE LE FER SUR l'ENCLUME Ig5

CHAPTER IX.

WCIAL ANALYSIS 2g2

CHAPTER X.

NATION-MAKING, .jQg

vl CONTKNTS.

(HAPTKR XI. PAOE.

I'WO HIIIKS OK A VK.X KD f^lKSTION, 2.<5

CIIAPTKK Xll.

n.K ,H Kv svsr.M 280

CHAPTKlt XriT.

MONOOLIANISM IV AMERinA 309

CHAPTER XIV.

410

MONKV AN1> MONOI'OLY,

CHAPTER XV.

LITEKATUKK «»K CKNTKAL AMEUKA '*''•'

CHAPTER XVI.

LITERATITRE OK COLONIAI. MEXICO ^^l

CHAPTER XVH.

MTERATUKE OF MEXICO ItUKINd THE I'ltESENT CENTHKY 537

CHAPTER XVni.

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE ^91

CHAPTER XIX.

PLATO REVISED ^^^

FAnE,

. . 2:<r)

..,. 280

ESSAYS

309

AND

MISCELLANY

.. 419

455

481

537

591

669

CHAPTER I

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS

Pacts can be accurately known to us only by the most rigid observation
ana sustained and scrutinizing scepticism

— Froude

In the North American Review for April, 1870, ap-
pear(!(l an article by Lewis H. Morgan entitled " Mon-
tezuma's Dinner," in which the writer attempts to
show that the native nations of Central and South
America were not so far advanced in culture as ftom
tlie evidence of priests and conquerors we have been led
to suppose, were not indeed so far advanced as the Iro-
quois and some other northern tribes. As Mr Mor-
gan takes for his text the second volume of my Na-
tive Races of the Pacific States, treating of the aboriginal
civilization of the Mexican and Central American
table-lands; and as his remarkable hypotheses affect
not alone the quality of American aboriginal culture,
but the foundations of early American history, and
indeed of all historic evidence; and as among his dis-
iples are found several popular writers disseminating
ihese erroneous ideas, I deem it not out of place to
v3xpress my views upon the subject.

I shall not attempt the elucidation of Mr Morgan's
theories, which run through voluminous and somev/hat

a THE EARLY AMERICAN CITROXirLERS.

turbid writin<j;H, and whicli liave been brou<j;ht into
some dt'greo of notice, nion; by tiic persistent energy
of tbo author tluin by any able arguments or convin-
cing proofs. I have noticed tliat not every originator
or supportt^r of a theory liolds to one belief tlirough-
out the entire course of liis investigations, or can him-
self explain exactly what he thinks he believes.

The Morgan hypothesis adoj)ts a distinction of its
own as to what constitutes a Siivage or a civilized na-
tion, in which rise jirominent the systems of kinsliip,
conspicuous in particular among the Iroquois and
Ojibways, together with plurality of wives and com-
nmnity of property, as tests of a former grade. Con-
vinced that the American nations all belong to one
family, Mr IVIorgan assumes that their various insti-
tutions nmst be })ractically identical, and that the so-
cial customs of extinct tribes may be best learned, not
fi'oni the statements of men who wrote from actual
observation, but from the studv of existing tribes.
Himself familiar with the Iroquois, and to some ex-
tent with other northern tribes, he arbitrarily aj»plies
the tribal organization of the Iroquois, of gentes, plira-
tries, tribes, and confederations to the nations of Mex-
ico and Central and South America, thus making
savages of all the hihabitants of the wo Americas.

With Mr Morgan's theory I have nothing to do. I
cannot see that it alters the facts regarding the cul-
ture, the intellectual and social conditions of the in-
habitants of the Mexican and Central American
table-lands whether they are called savage or civilized,
esjiecially by those whose conception of the meaning of
these words is peculiar, or at least quite different from
that of the foremost scholars of the day. What alone
interests me in this connection is the effect of such
teachings on popular estimates of historical evidence,
particularly as touching the early American chroni-
clers. Not that the teachings of Mr Morgan himself
could exercise any great popular influence anywhere ;
but there is a class of writers for the million, who

f i

THE MORGAN THEORY.

flit in the aunshine of public favor, in the bordcrhind
between fact and fancy, caring less for the truth of
what they say than for thouianner in which it is said,
and tiie money that conies to them in consetjucnce.

Men of tliis stamp have taken up the Morgan theory,
and by pretending that there is more in it than ever
the autlior himself dreamed of, have exercised a most
})ernicious influence over the popular mind, succeeding
at one time in attracting to themselves considerable
attention. They claimed that the literary and moim-
ipental remains of the Aztecs, Mayas, aiid IMound-
l>uilders might now be translated by skillful students ;
that a clew to the labyrinths of race and origin haa
bien found ; that conjecture in this direction had be-
gun for science a new era, and that there nniains
little affecti)ig American archa;olf)gy which the w
theory will not make plain. For not one of these
statements was Lii.ie any foundation in fact or reason .

They even went further to astonish the woild, by
asserting that the early American annals are by the
light of this new theory transformed, and to a great
extent annulled, the eyes of the first comers having
deceived them; that the aboriginal culture, its arts,
literature, sciences, polities, and religions, mean not
these, but other things, as is clearly shown by the
"new interpretation," and that the tales of the con-
(juerors nmst accordingly be written anew, written
and read by this new transforming light; that there
never was an Aztec or a jNIaya emiure, but only wild
tribes leagued like the northern savayes: that Yuca-
tan never had great cities, nor Montezuma a palace,
but that as an ordinary Indian chief this personage
liad lived in the communal dwelling of his tribe ; that
wc can see America as Cortes saw it, not in the words
of Cortes and his companions, or in the monumental
remains of the south, but in the reflection of New
Mexican villages, and through the mental vagaries
of one man after the annihilation of fact" presented
by a hundred men.

THE EARLY AMEr.ICAN CHRONICLERS.

All that was seen and said at tlie time of the con-
quest, and all that has since been seen or said conflict-
ing with this fancy, is illusion; reasonable, tangible
evidence, such alone as could be accepted by unbiassed
connnon-sensc, was not admissible if conflicthig with
the preconceived idea. I was surprised that such
conceits should ever assume tangible form and be re-
ceived as truth by any considerable nundx-r of scholars ;
that such conceits should ever be disseminated as facts
by men pretending to a love of truth. It seems some-
what difficult for the average mind, slowly undergoing
eternal emancipation, to establish the true relative
values of learned and unlearned ignorance. In the
former category may be placed all those unprovable
s[)eculations destined to end whore they begin, and
which so largely occupy the attention of tlie human
race. And so loniX as tliose wlio assume the roles of
toacliers present tlieir illusions in ])k'asing forms, with
a fah- amount of dogmatic assurance, they will find
listeners.

In the present instance the disciples are far worse
tlian the master. I fail to see the wisdom of tliiis
attempting to sweep from tlie face of tlie earth by
mere negation all persons and facts op[)oshig a propo-
sition. It is not by such nu<ans tliat reasonable h\-
)>otheses are established; blank negation never yet
overthrew substantial truth. It seems a long leap,
indeed, from a theory resting on a trace of certain
organizations in the north, to an arbitrary conclusion
that the Mayas were identical in their institutions
with the Pueblo Indians, (irant the fundanuMital
doctrine, and there is yet a wide distance between
Zuhi and TJxmal. It requires a vivid imagination to
see only joint-tenement structures in the remains at
Palenque. But admitting it, the radical (hftennice in
plan, architecture, and sculptured and stucco decora-
tions, to employ Morgan's own line of argument,
suggests a corresponding devtlojHncnt and im))rove-
ment in other institutions and arts, which would hi-

FACTS AND FANCY.

trocIucG some troublesome variations in the assumed
identity with the Pueblos and Iroquois, even if all
started together. The Maya hieroglyphs, and even
certain of the Aztec, form also an obstacle by no
means so easily removed. True, not being deciphered,
their actual grade cannot be positively proved; yet
the common picture-writing contains enough of the
phonetic element to place the better class high above
tlie line fixed by the new transforminij li<rht as the
mark of civilization. Even by this briglit illumuiation
it seems scarcely possible to reconcile the testimony
of existing relics, and of Spanish witnesses who came
into contact with the Maya and Nahua nations, with
the narrow conclusions of sui>[)()rtersof the all-embrac-
ing consanguinity. In the earlier life of the hypothe-
sis tlie changes to what are called descriptive consan-
guinity and the inheritance of property were made
tests of civilization; but these tests were aljandoni'd
wlien it was ascertained, among other things, that the
Aztecs did inlierit personal property, and to a certain
extent landed estate.

If this were the only theory ever advanced to prove
indemonstrable propositions regarding the Americans,
it might be more imposing; but it is only one of fifty,
each of which has had its day and its supporters,
and we cannot look forward with any degree of con-
fidence to the fulfilment of promises bailed on grounds
so weak and fictitious. Nor do I regard such inves-
tigation as in every respect beneficial; on the con-
trary, it is clearly detrimental wheu facts are warped
to fit theories, the theory being of less importance to
mankind than the fact. On the other hand it is true
that great discoveries have sprung from apparently
puerile conceits ; and fact;, are sure to live, however
sometimes distorted, while false doctrines are sure to
die, however ably presented.

In comm<m with all such suppositions, the paths by
which the advocate reaches his conclusions are fuller
of iustruction than the conclusions themselves. There

6 THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

is something of instruction in the nine massive fohos
left by the poor demented Lord Kingsborough, who
greatly desired to prove the American Indians Jews,
though he was not one whit nearer such proof at the
end than at the benj-imnng. The more knovvledije the
learned abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg brought to the
subject tlie more confused he became, until the latter
parts of his labors were directed toward revising his
earlier conjectures. Such a course appears not unusual
with theorists—from the doo;niatic to the aruumenta-
tive, then back to the dogmatic again, forever explain-
hig away mistakes and falling into new ones. The
eloquent Robert Mackenzie is still in the first stage
of dogmatism when with a glance at the map showing
tlie proximity of Asia and America he would forever
settle the question of origin. Nor is the strahiing of
modern scientists to prove Asiatic intercourse by
sliipwrccked Japanese junks at all necessary. It is a
well established fact that for many centuries there has
been free intercourse between the peoples on either
side of Bering strait, botli by means of boats and by
crossing on the ice. It may be as Mr Morgan says,
though his arguments appear scarcely more convincing
than the arguments of tliose who preceded him, or of
those who came after him. Some of these other
theories are held to-day; grant them all — what then?
Grant that the Americans are one stock with the
people of Asia, Scandinavia, or Africa, or Armenia,
there still remains to be proven whether the Old
World peopled the New, or the New the Old ; where
stood the primordial cradle or cradles of the race ;
where man was first made, and how .

The fundamental weakness of Mr Mohan's amu-
mcnt lies m the glaring distortion of evidence to sus-
tain it. INIr IMorgan begins by telling what the Span-
ish conquerers found in Mexico — not what they them-
selves reported to have seen, but what they should have
seen to establish the 'new interpretation.' This being
infallible, the Spanish conquerors did , not see what

DOGMATIC THEORIZING.

thev claimed. It may be immaterial whether wo call
the Nail uaculturosavagism or civilization, Montezuma's
dwelling a palace or a tenement house, himself einpcx or
(»r cacique, and his subordinate rulers lords or chiefs;
but it is somewhat presumptuous for Mr Morgan,
who never examined the monumental remains of the
Aztecs, who had no greater o[)portunity than others
of studying their social system, and who in fact
never knew anything about it except upon the evi-
dence of the very witnesses he denounces as blind
and false, sweepingly to assert, in order to extend a
preconceived theory over all the nations of America,
that the conquerors were mistaken, that they could
not have seen what they thought they saw. It is
the old lino of reasoning cmph>yed by learned super-
sition these many centuries ; if the universe, or any
part of it, does not accord with the doctrine, so
much the worse for the universe, which nuist there-
upon be reconstructed. As the good elder of one
of our fashionable churches latelv remarked, " If the
bible affirmed that Jonah swallowed the whale, I
should believe it."

Without advancing adequate evidence to show the
existence of his systeniamong the Nahuas, Mr Morgan
eii'jfa'jfes in saijo discussions concerning; it, transform-
ing by the light of the new interpretation as many
of the new facts into his fancies as suits his purpose.
In doing this, he allows the chroniclers to be right in
whatever they say supporting his views; hi all such
statements as oppose his system they were in error.
It was indeed a transforming light that enabled this
man to see, not being present, what others could by
no means perceive though they were on the ground;
and he kindly admits that the early histories of
Spanish America may for the most part be trusted,
except where his pet project is touched.

This, thon, is my opinion of the ISIorgan thoory.
There may be grounds for certain of its suppositions
in certain directions, but there are not sufficient

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

i !

grounds for its acceptance as affecting the nations of
the Mexican and Central A.nierican table-lands. In
all such discussions there may be marshalled many
analogies, some of tliem remarkable Nature is
everywhere one; the nations of the earth, of whatever
origin, are formed on one model But for every anal-
ogy these tlieorists have found, their predecessors have
found a score of analogies in support of some other
theory. Analogy presents no reliable basis for prov-
ing origin or race migrations.

In looking over Mr Morojan's writinujs, it is to be
noticed tliat traces of his tests to prove his tlieories
become fainter and fainter as tlie southern and more
advanced nations are approached. His attempt to
locate the ancient Cibola shows no small lack of skill
in tlie use of evidence. Likewise, though more dog-
matical in some respects, in his later works he appa-
rently relinquishes in some degree the positions which
at first were maintained with such obsthiacy, and
spends some time in qualifying some of the more pal-
pable of his former errors, yet still insisting in ex-
tending his doctrhics over the southern plateaux.

In estimating the relative advancement of peoples,
some standard of measurement is necessary. The
term savage and civilized, as employed by various
persons, liave widely different significations. Proba-
bly no words so freely used are so little understood.
The terms are usually employed to designate fixed
conditions, when by the very nature of things such
conditions cannot properly be applied to man.

Mr Morgan classified culture periods under the
categories of savagism, barbarism, an<l civilization;
to emerge from tlie first of which there should be
knowledge of fire, fish subsistence, and the bow and
arrow ; from the second, pottery, domestication of ani-
mals, agriculture, and smelting of iron ; and to attain
full civilization a phonetic alphabet was necessary, or
use of hieroglyphs upon stone as an equivalent.

SAVAGISM AXD CIVIUZA : ION".

This may have been a convenient arrangement for
his purp»»se, and I see no reason wliy lie, and all v.'ho
clioose, sliould not employ it. But surely the same
right should be accorded others, who perchance may
find another classificatiim convenient. For instance,
one might wish to throw Mr Morgan's three divisions
into the one category of savagisni, and spread the
idea of civilization upon a higher plane; for surely
our present highest civilization is as much suitciior to
the; condition essential to admission into his highest
cliiss as his highest class is superior to his lowest.
Italian son'jj;, French art, (jlerman letters, Fn<>lish
poc^try, and American invention are certaudy far
enou'jh in advance of the first use of the iihomtic
alplial)et to entitle such accomplishments to a new
categorv.

One estimates a nation's civilization by its agri-
culture ; another by its manufactures; others by the
quality of its religion, morality, literature, or politi-
cal and social institutions. Some say that tillers of
the soil should be preferred before herders of cattle;
some hold workers in iron and coal above workers
in gold and feathers; some place pottery in advance
of sculpture; the fine arts before the industrial; some
compare implements of war, others phonetic ( harac-
ters, otheis knowledu'e of the movements of the
heavenlv bodies; some would take a general average.

But weighing a people's civilization, or lack t)f it,
by any of these standards, yet other standards are
necessarv bv which to measure pron'ress. What is
meant by half civilized, or quarter civiliz' d, or wholly
civilized? A 1''df civilized nation is a nation half as
civilized as ours. But is ours civilized, fully < ivilized ?
Is there ]io higher culture, or refinement, or Justice,
or humanity in store for nian than those formed on
present I'Airopean models, which sanction <(iercion,
l)loo(ly arbitrament, international robbery, tlu' exter-
mination of primitive peoples, and hide in society
under more comely coverings all the iniquities of sav-

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

Judging from tlie past and the presoiit there
is yet another six thousand, or sixty thousand years
of progress for man, and then lie may be still a
savage compared with his condition at the end of the
next twelve thousand or one hundred and twenty
thousfyul years' term. Is there then no such thing
as civilization ^ Assuredly not, in the significance of
a fixed condition, a goal attained, a ct)mplete and
perfcH'ted idea or state. Civilization and savagism
are relative and not absolute terms. True, tempoiary
standards have to be adopted at different stages in
history for the sake t)f argument and elucidation;
but to attempt to make them absolute and i>p['ly
them to fixed conditions is to render them meaning-
less, and make null the conditions indicated. The
moment the man ]>rimcval kindles a fire, or employs
a crooked stick in procuring food, he has entered upon
his nev(!r ending progressional journey; he is no
longer wholly and primordially savage. The terms
being riglitly employed, there are no absolute savages
or civilized pet)[)lcs on the earth to-day; and when
there are so many standards by which })rogress may
])roperly be measured, is it wise to warp fundamental
facts in dogmatically thrusting one people into the
category of half civilized, and another but slightly
different into that of one quarter savage? We might
have a hundred fixed stages, not one of which by any
possibility could be so defined in words as completely
to fit any one of the millions of human conditions.
Howsoever definite an idea we mav have of that end
of the line which began with man, of the other which
will never cease spinning until the last human being
has left the i)lanet, we can have no conception. For
aught we know it may not stop short of t)nmiscience.
Civilization is an mifolding, and dcveh)ps mainly
from its own germ ; it is not a superficial acquisition,
but an inward growth, even if nourished by extra-
neous food. You may whitewash a savage with your
superiority, but you cannot civilize him at once.

AZTEC CULTURE.

Whether we turn to the extreme eastern kingdoms
of Asia, or to the region watered by the Euphrates
and tlio Nile, all inhabited since the remotest historic
past by races of acknowledged culture, everywhere we
iiiid vast differences and strong })eculiarities in the
respective cultures, developed by environment. Some
of the characteristics are of a high order, others de-
scend to a grade of actual barbarism; some are in
course of develo])nient, others stationa/y^ or even
iitrogradhig. The Nahua culture partawes of the
s.iine traits, fashioned by its peculiar environment.
For purposes of his own, Mr Morgan arbitrarily de-
scribes limits to what is called civilization in order if
possible to i>revent the Nahuas from entering its pre-
cincts. In this effort he ignores many distinctively
liigher traits which the most superficial observer nmst
discover amono' the southern races; he chooses to
disregard or slight the very distitict evidences of not
merely settled life, but of settled connnunities uniler
a high form of government, with advanced institu-
tions and arts.

I will present briefly some facts and characteristics
on which, according to my conception of the term,
the Nahuas and ^layas may justly lay claim to be
called civilized. I will give beforehand the proof that
these traits did actually exist among the peo[)les of
the Mexican and Central American table-lands at the
time of their conquest by the Spaniards, laying before
the reader the principal authorities in their true char-
acter as fully as I am able to discover it, with all
their merits and demerits, tlieir veracity and men-
dacity; making as close and critical an analysis of
their writings as the most skeptical could desire. I
am not aware of any special dtsire to prove the pres-
ence or absence of a civilization in this instance. If
my historical writings display any one marked pecu-
liarity, it is that of a critical incredulity in respect of
both Indian and Spanish tales. I have avoided, so

THF, EARLY AMERICAN CIIROXICLERS.

:|J

far as ])()SHil)lo, placing myself in a position where I
should be tempted to e.\aggerati\ I have no theory
to advocate. My narrations are based on the reports
of eye-witnesses whose characters have bi!<!n studied,
whose education, idiosyncrasies, positions, conditions,
temper, and temptations have all been carefully con-
sidered in weighing' their evidence, and tiie results
arc so given that the reader can easily form conclu-
sions of his own if minc^ do not satisfy him.

It is well not to lose sight of the fact, either in the
present investigation or in using the writings of the
chroniclers as historical evidence or for any other jmr-
posc, that the men of the period were deceived in re-
gard to many things, but that it is not difKcult for us
to jierceive in what things and to what extent they
were laboring under misap^ rehension. All men and
all thiiii'S are to a certain extent deceivinijf, even to
our wiser discrimination of to-day. Classes and
cret^ls are given to misrepresentation ; either intention-
allv or unintentionallv, the false colors i)laced before
the mind of man in the beginning, throuu;li which
alone the universe and whatever it contains nuist of
necessity be viewed, were quite different in diti'erent
times and from various standpoints. The priest, Ikjw-
ever, is not likely wilfully to misrepresent in matters
wherefrom there will arise no benefit either to him
or to his church or order. And so with the soldier
and adventurer, each perha])s jealous of the other, and
ever ready to contradict any false statement which
will lessen his own importance or add to the wealth
or ha})piness of one he hates.

In regard to aboriginal testimony, aside from that
displayed by the still existing n)aterial remains, I
never liave placed great reliance, although on no better
evitlenco than that of native Aztec writers, and abori-
ginal traditions in existence long before the appearance
in the country of Europeans, Christianity, mahomct-
anism, and all religions pin their faith. There are
some able scholars and investigators of the present

ABORIGINAL WllITIN'GS.

(lav who arc confident tliat in tlio liioroijflypliks of
tho Nuliuas and Alayas will ytt be found the key to
iiianv invsteries, aiiioiiij' others touidcnown laniiuniirs,
to kinshl[> with tlie ]']gyptians, Cliahleaiis, or other
peoples, and to the routes and pur})o.se.s of the great
migrations of the earth ; but there has as 3et ai»p('ared
no evidence whatever to base any such ex})eetations
upon. Towards deciphering the picture writings (;f
the aboriginal peoples of the ^Texican and Central
American table-lands, little or no advance has betii
made. Nevertheless, there were anioni; t\\v native
nations inhal/iting this region prior to the coiupiest
wise ;ind al)le men, who, after the Spaniards ha<l come,
and they had learned the languag(M»f the con([uerors,
fianseribed much of their aboi'iginal history from tlu;
original hieroglyphics into Spanish, and there is no
leasoii why we may not as well believe the more evi-
dent truths contained in these writings, jiarticularly
such po)'tions as we have at hand collateral evideiitH'
to sustain, as credit anvthino; found in anv aneient
writings, sacred or [)rofanc. Even tliough tin' state-
ments recorded in tlieseaboriginal books are all tlnown
into the cateiiorv of mvtholoov, there is still evidence
of a well-advanced culture in the bare abilitv to ori-
<''inate, entertain, and n^cord such ideas. The measure
of their civilization, which is the jjroniinent point at
issue in the present instance, is to a ceitain extent
determined by the character and ([uality ot" their writ-
ings, whether true or false. L( t every word of the
Uiad bo untrue, Homer would not therefore be termed
a savage. It seems supertluous to attempt to prove
the validity of the early chroniclers. jVJr Morgan's
sino'ular position would not be worth v of notice but
that his statements have proved misleading to othcis.
Imagine the history of thcconipiest written from the
Morgan standpoint. The story might be told based on
tlic authority of the chroniclers — it can never other-
wise be written; but all that they r(>port in any way
conflicting with the preconceived idea must be thrown

THE KARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

out or explained away. Imagine my account of the
aborigines announced as A Description of the Naticc
Races of North America^ founded on such parts of
existimj Spanish Testinioni/, and on such Material
Relics as seem to agree with the researches of Leir/s
jr. Morrjan among the Iro(/uois of Xcw York! If,
after the evidence in the [>re.sent instance is fully
j^nven, the reader prefers denoniinatinjjf the peoj^les
I'cferrcd to as savages or satyrs, I have not the
slightest objection.

With tlie first expedition to Mexico went two men
by the name of Diaz, one a priest and the other a
soldier. Both wrote accounts of what they saw, thus
giving us at the outset narratives from ecclesiastical
and secular standpoints. It was a voyage along the
coast; they did not penetrate the interior. Observa-
tion being general, the descriptions arc general. There
was nothing remarkable about the priest; ho was not
particularly intelligent or honest. I see no reason to
doubt the commonplace incidents of the voyage as
given in the Itinerario de Grijalva. The towns, with
tlieir white stone buildings and temple-towers glisten-
ing in the foliage, remind him of Seville; when he
mentions a miracle which happens at one of then»,
we know he is not telling the truth. Indeed, an
experienced judge can almost always arrive at the
truth even if the evidence comes only from the
mouths of Ij'ing witnesses, provided he can examine
them apart. Where the evidence is abundant, the
judge soon knows more of the facts of the case than
any one witness, and can easily discern the true state-
ments from the false. But on the whole, the priest
Juan Diaz was quite moderate in his descriptions of
what we know from other sources to have been there.

The same evidence is offered in the Ilistoria Ver-
dadera of Bernal Diaz, who attended not only on this
vo3'age, but on the first and succeeding expeditions;
all is plain, unvarnished, and devoid of coloring. If
hyperbole was ever to be employed it should be in

DL\Z, TERRAZAS.

connection with the revelation of these first startlini^
evidences of a new art and a stranj^e race. But the
enthusiasm of the autlior becomes marked only as he
ascends later with Cortes to the table-land and there
beholds the varied extent of the new culture. What
8tron<(er proof can there be of its superior «j^rade when
lie passes by with comparative indillbrence tlie Vucatec
s])eciinen, known to us to be of rare beauty, and ex-
pivssos njarked wonder only on reachinijf Mexico?

]Jernal Diaz wrote rather late in life, after manv
accounts had already been jjfiven. He piided himst-lf
on giving a true history, was (juite as ready to iight
with his pen as with his sword, and havinuf had niany
(|uan'els, and still harboring many jealousies, was
viry apt to criticise what others said; and he did so
criticise and refute. The truth is, there were hero
many .and opposing elements in the evidence to win-
now it from falsehood, far more than are usually
found in early materials for history.

The memorials of the relatives of Velazquez to the
king are not worth considering, being little more than
masses of misstatements and exaggerations.

The personage known is the Anonymous Con-
queror, probably Francisco do Teriazas, mayordomo
of Cortt'S, gave a clear description of Mexico, the
country, people, towns, and institutions, and particu-
larly the capital city, arranged in paragraphs with
proper headings, with drawings of the great temple
and of the city. His method and language denote in-
telligence and inspire confidence. No reason is known
why he should exaggerate, many being a])paront
why he should render a true account. If his testi-
mony can be ruled out on the ground that it does not
fit a theory, then can that of any man wlio furnishes
material for historv, and our histories may as well be
written with the theories as authorities, and liavu done
with it. Dealing wholly with native institutions, the
writer seems to have no desire, as is the case with
some, to magnify native strength and resources for the

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

sake of r.ilsini^ the cstimato of the deeds of liiinself
and comradtjs; on the contrary, in .s[)ouking of native
troops and arms, where a soldier would be most in-
clined to hoast, the description rather nu)d<;rates the
idea of th((ii' jirowess. The population of Mexico lie
gives lower than most writers, and yet, when descrihinj^
tlie city and its arts, he grows quite elocjuent on the
ni:'-e, the heauty, the civilized features. The wliolo
narrative hears the stamp of reliability, and the stu-
dent may easily from internal evidence and com-
j)arison deduct approximate truth.

There are documents, such as Carta del Ejet'cito and
J^i'oixnr.ti (Ic Lcjdldc, attested under oath by lunuh'eds,
Mi<Uhorefore apparently worthy of credit above others;
lat when we examine the motives for their })roduction,
iiid ilnd that they were intended to palliate the con-
duct of the conquerors, our confidence is shaken.

lEcrnan Cortes was ever ready with a lie when it
suited his purpose, but he was far too wise a man need-
lessly to waste S(j useful an agent. He vrould not, and
did not, acquire a name for untruthfulness, lie knew
that others were writing as well as himself, and it
could by no possibility biing him ])ermanent l)enefit
to indulge in much deception. His misstatements
chielly all'ect himself and his enemies and opponents
among his own countrymen; in giving detailed infor-
mation concerning the natives there was little temp-
tation to deceive. His Cartas might naturally be
ex[)ected to aim at extolling his achievements and the
value of Ills discovery. Expecting some coloring, the
student is forewarned. We lind at times what v/e i'eel
inclined to stamp as exaggeration, but liere also the
enthusiasm of the nai "ator rises only as he approaches
jNIcixico, the fame of diich is dinned into his ears all
along his march, and liat l)y the natives nearer the
coast, whose high ad mccment is attested by ruins
and relics. Internal ai X collateral evidence shows his
first descriptions of s ghts to be far from overrated,
and his later discoveries to be in the main quite trust-

HERXAN CORTC S.

wortliy. Indood, awaro that somo of his statements
may bo (loiibtod, ho ur<^os his soveroij^n moro than
oiico to solid out a conmiission to verify them.

Sucli verification was exacted. Officials did como
out to report on the conquest and its vahie, only to
join, in the main, in confirmation of what had Ixhmi
said. A series of questions was also sent to puhlic!
111(11 in Mexico not lon;,^ after the conquest, bearin;^ to
ii nivat extent on the native culture, and the answm-s
all tend to confirm the hi^h estimate already foi-mcd
Iniia the specimens and rejjorts forwarded to Spain.
One of the most exhaustive answers was sent by the
cininent jurist Alonso de Zurita, connected for nearly
twenty years with Spanish audiencias in New Spain.
He niviews the native institutions with calm and clear
judLfmont, and it is only in rejecting the eiiithet of
barbarians as bestowed by untliinking })orsons — a term
a[>pli(!(l also to Europeans by Chinese — that he o-rows
indignant, declaring that none who had any knowledge
of jNIexican institutions and capacity could use such
a term. He spoke while evidences were quite fresh,
and well knew what ho affirmed. Similar conllrm-
atory evidence may bo found massed in the various
collections of letters and narratives about the Indies
brought to light from the archives of Spain and
America, and ])ublished by the editors of the extensive
Odecclon de Documentos Ineditos; Colccciou de Docu-
mc.ntos jxira lallistoria de Mexico, etc.; by the leai'ned
Navarrete, Ramirez, Icazbalceta, Ternaux-Compans,
and others.

Still stronger evidence of the reliability of the
early authorities comes from the consideration that
the rumors of IMexico's grandeur and wealth attracted
vast hordes of hungry seekers for gold, grants of land,
iid office. Of course, -iiost of them were disap-
jjointed, and Cortes, from his inability to please and
^jratify all, raised a host of enemies, who joined the
large number already arraigned against him by reason
of his successes. Their aim was naturally to vilify

Essays and Miscellany l>

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

liim, to lower the achievements of the conquest, and
to dispara|ijc tlie country which had failed to satisfy
them. If ever a subject was assailed, it was tliis of
Mexico, her resources and people; assailed, too, during
the very opening years of tlie occupation, wlien the
testimony of eye-witnesses was abundant, and ]iarticu-
larly of the disappointed, whose voice was loudest.
Notwithstanding all this the glories of Mexico stand
unshaken, and greater grow the confirmed ideas of
the superior condition of her i-ace in nund)er, culture,
and resources; and this, too, when the Spanish gov-
ernment began to discountenance the glowing reports
of native superiority, and to lower the estimates of
aboriginal wealth and condition, with a view to keep
foreign attention fr~. u the country, and to hide the
facts which would tell ajjainst it while crushiii!.j aliiuh
culture and enslaving a noble race.

Thus it was that the writincrs of Sahacfun, Las
Casas, and others, were suppressed or neglected. But
if many such were lost, otliers came finally to light
to receive additional confirmation from the native
records. It is to these records that we must loolc
not only for confirmation of what the chroniclers
relate, but for the only reliable data on political ma-
chinery and other esoteric subjects with which Span-
iards could not become so well acquainted. The value
of native records as supplementary and confirmatory
testimony is self-apparent, since they Mere written by
and for the natives themselves, and naturally without
the idea of exaggeration or deception Ixjing dominant.
A sufficient nund)er of original and copied native
manuscripts or paintings exists in different museums
and libraries, relatinar not onlv to historic events, but
describing the nature and development of institutions
and arts.

Besides the actual records, many histories exist,
by natives and friars, based wholly on such paintings
and on traditions and ])ersonal observations, such
as those of Tezozomoc, Camargo, and Ixtlilxochitl.

TfATIVE HISTORIANS.

Each of these native authors wrote from a different
standpoint, in the interest of his respective nation-
ahty. Camargo, for instance, as a Tlascultec is bit-
terly hostile to the Aztecs, and seeks of course to
detract from their grandeur in order to exalt his own
people. Ho rather avoids dwelling on Aztec glories;
nevertheless frequent admissions appear which helj)
to confirm the impression of their advanced institu-
tions. Ixtlilxochitl, again, writes from the family
nichives of his royal house of Tezcuco, and dwells
u|)on the deeds and grandeur of his city and tribe.
None of these authors possess sufficient skill to C(Mi-
ccal the coloring wliich constitutes their chief defect
as authorities. A number of chroniclers, and even
modern writers like Brasseur de Bourlxmrg, have
used native paintings and narratives more or less I'or
their histories, while certain others, like Veytia, de-
pend upon them or their translations almost wholly.

Ixtlilxochitl was called by Bustamante the Cicero
of Amihuac, and of course is to b(^ read with allowance
wlien speaking of liis people. And so with Fatlicr
Duran — I would no more trust a zealous priest while
defending the natives than I would trust Morgan
while defending his theory.

The reliability of translators is best judged by tlie
method used by Father 8ahagun in the formation
of the Jlistoria General, the three v.,lumes of whidi
are devoted to an account of native manners and cus-
toms, their domestic aD'\ ])ul)lic life, their festivals
and rites, their institutions and traits. Instructed by
his superiors, the friar called ujxm intelligent and
learned Indians in different places to paint in hiero-
glyphics their accounts of these subjects. To these,
explanations were attached in full Mexican text, and
tested by fui'ther inquiries, and then translatetl into
Spanish by Sahagun. Many of the narrativ*es aiu
vague and absurd, yet these very faults point in most
cases to simple-minded earnestness and frankness, and
render the work rather easier for the discriminating

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

student to sift. The honesty of Sahag-un's labors
brought upon them obloquy and neglect, which only
the more serve to commend the work to us.

It is from such sources, original and translated
native records, and verbal and wi-itten narrations of
eye-witnesses, that succeeding wi'itcrs, or chroniclers
proper, obtained the main portion of their accounts
of conquests and aboriginal institutions. They tliem-
sclvcs had opportunities for observation ; and actuated
l>y different motives, they were naturally impelled to
investigate and weigh to a certain extent, whether
through eagerness for fame, or from desire to raise
the achievenunts of favoi-iti^s, or to detract from the
glories of envied or detestetl leaders.

Las Casas, for instance, in his different works
stands forward as a pronounced champion of the
natives, and unflinchingly lashes the conquerors and
liistorians for what he terms cruelty, unjust policy-,
and false statement. His IIisto)u'(i. AjKjlof/cfiixi is
purely a defence of the Indians, their institutions and
characteristics, and consequently to be accepted with
cjiution. The need of this caution becomes stronger
when we behold the extreme exagijerations to which
he is led in the Brcvc Iicldclon, claiming to be an expose
of Spanish excesses and cruelties. In the Ilistor'm de
his Indias, again, he allows his feelings of friendship
I'or Velazquez to detract from the achievxnnents of
Cortes. On everv hand, therefore, the historian finds
reasons for accepting with caution the statements of
Las Casas; but thus forewarned, he is able to reject
tl\e false and determine the true. He also finds that
wlien not blinded by zeal the worthy bishop is honest,
and withal a keen and valuable observer, guided by
practical sagacity and endowed with a certain genius.

His contemporary, Oviedo, although l(>ss talented,
is by no means deficient in knowledge, and a varied
experience in both hemispheres had given him a
useful insight into affairs. He is not partial to the
natives, and Las Casas actually denounces his state-

LAS CASAS, OVIEDO, TETER MARTYR, GOMARA, 21

mcnts against them as lies. This is hardly just, ex-
cept ill some instances. Vv'liile personally acquainted
only with the region to the south of Nicaragua Lake,
his account embraces all Spanish con(iuests in the
western Indies, the facts being gathered from every
accessible source, and either compiled or given in
fcioparate form. Indian and Spaniard, fi'iend, foe, and
rival, all receive a hearing and a record, so that his
^\()l•k is to a great extent a mass of testimonv from
o|)[i(>site sides. This to the hasty reader may [)resent
a loutradictory apj)earance, as Las Casas is led to
assume, but to the student such material is valualilc.

A third contemporary and famous writer is Peter
^Martyr, a man of brilliant attainments, deep, clear
mind, and honest purpose, who had gained for him-
self a prominent position in Spain, and even a seat in
tlie Council of the Indies. Naturally interested in
the New World, whose affairs were then unfolding,
hi' eagerly questioned those who came thence, con-
sulted their charts and reports, and was thus enabled
to form a more accurate opinion about the Indians
and their land, one that was thus founded on
reliable and varied testimony. A fault, however, is
the haste with which his summaries were formed,
both in order and detail; yet even this defect tends
to leave the nari'ative unvarnished and free from a
dangerous elaboration. Even Las Casas admits its
credibility.

The different minds, motives, prejudices, and even
antagonisms, of these three writers eacli impart an
additional value to their respective writings from
which tlie historian cannot fail to derive benefit.

Like Peter ]\rart3'r, Goinara took his material
entirely from testimony, chielly letters, rejiorts, and
other documents in the archives of Cortes, his patron,
and collections to which his inlluence gained access.
His high literary tastes gave a zest to his writings,
but impelled him also to elaboration, and his llistorln
de Mexico is colored by his predilections as biographer

THE EARLY A^klERICAN CHRONICLERS.

of the conqueror. On the other hand, he finds en-
dorsement in the decree which was issued against
his history because of its treatment of government
affairs, and comparison with other histories reveals
the many vahiable points which he has brought to
hght. The adoption of his Mexican work by so
prominent a native as Chimalpain is to a certain ex-
tent an assurance of its truthfuhiess.

Munoz places Gomara among the first of the
chroniclers. lie had no special reason that we can
see to extol unduly native institutions. He wrote
early enough to know all about them, but not so early
as to be carried away by a first enthusiasm. ]\Iade
socretar}^ and chaplain to Cortes in 1540, his object
of adulation was his patron, in I'ecounting whose
deeds he cannot be trusted. Neither had Cortes, as
before remarked, special interest, least of idl at this
time, in magnitying the civilization — the civilization
he had destroyed. Alvarado and others of the chron-
iclers were repeatedly tried by the Spanish govern-
ment I'or their cruelty to the natives, whom it was
the desire of both church and state to preserve. It
would therefore be rather in favor of the conquerors
to hold them up as ignoble and low.

The learned and elegant Antonio de Solis, though
so bigoted as to render his deductions in many in-
stances puerile, and though constantly raving against
the natives, was closely followed by both Robertson
and Prescott.

Herrera, the historiographer of the Indies, uses
the material of all the preceding writers, in addition to
original narratives, and has in his Ilistoria General
the most complete account of American affairs up to
his time. His method of massing material makes it
most valuable, but a slavish adherence to chronology
destroys the sequence, interferes with broad views,
and renders the reading uninteresting. This defect is
increased by a bald, prolix stjde, the effect of inexpe-
rienced aid, and by the extreme patriotism and piety

HERRERA, TORQUEMADA, MEXDIETA

which often set aside integrity and humanity. On
the other hand, he in some measure tempered and
corrected the exaggerations of lils predecessors.

Torquemada was less critical in accepting material,
but he was indefatigable In his eftbrts to exhaust the
Information about New Spain and her natives, and
his Monarquia Indiana is the most comjilete account
extant in its combination of topics. Though an able
work, It contains many errors; yet the manllbld sources
of Information all the more help the student to airive
at the truth. Torquemada amassed a great store of
])rlvate information about native institutions during
the fifty years of his labor among the Indians, and
lie made use of many histories then uni)ubllshed —
instance those of Sahagun, INlendleta, and others.

Mendleta was an ardent champion of the natives,
and a bitter opponent of the audiencia and govern-
ment officials; yet in nmndane affairs he })ossessed
sitund judgment, so much so that he was fre(|uently
intrusted with important missions of a diplomatic na-
ture, lie became the liistorlan of his provuicia, and
gained the title of Its Cicero. His Hidoria Eclesi-
dstica, which treats chiefly of the missionary progress
of his order, contains a large amount of matter on
native customs, arts, and ttivits.

]MendIcta may be regarded as the pupil of Toriblo
de Benavente, whose humility of si)lrlt caused him to
ado])t the name of Motollnia, applied by the Indians
out of connnlseratlon for his appearance. Not that
he was very humble in all matters, as may be setin
from his bitter attack on Las Casas. In this in-
stance, however, he was merely an exponent of the
hostility prevailing between the Franciscans, to which
he belonged, and the Dominicans, which led to many
pen contests and contradictory measures for tlie In-
dians, from all of which the historian gains new facts.
Motolinia arrived In Mexico in 1524, and wandered
over It and the countries to the south for a series of
years, teaching and converting. He is claimed to have

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

baptized over four hundred thousand persons. His
knowlcdj^c of the aborigines and long intercourse with
them before their customs were chan'^ed, cnaljlcd him
to acquire most important information about them.
All this, together with the story of his mission work,
is related in the Jlidoria tie los Indios de Niwva
Espaha, written in a rambling manner, with a nliive
acceptance of the marvellous, yet bearing a stamp of
truthfulness that wins confidence.

Occasionally there have risen M'riters who, from
excess of zeal, personal ambition, or careless study of
facts, sought to cast doubts on nati\e culture and
similar topics, like De Pan and Raynal, only to evoke
replies more or less hasty. This unsatisfactory contest
I'oused the ire, among others, of tlie learned Jesuit
Clavigero. Himself born in Mexico, his patriotic
zoal was kindled, and during a residence there of
thirty-five years, till driven forth by the general edict
against his order, ho made the ancient history and
institutions thereof his special study. The result was
the Storia Antica del JUcssico, which if less bulkv than
l^onjuemada's work, is far more satisfactory in its
])lan for thoroughness and clearness, and remains the
leading authority in its field. Clavigero is generally
admitted to have refuted the two prominent 'Oppo-
nents above named on the culture questions, even
though liis statements are at times colored with the
licat of ar<Tument and Avith zeal foi' race.

Amonc*' the remainin<j: historians who treat on civi-
lized tribes may be named Acosta, who in speaking
of IMexican culture borrows wholly from Dui-an, a
Franciscan, born in New Spain of a native mother,
and consequently predisposed in favor of his race.
Indeed, nciarly all of Duran's bulky narrative on
ancient history and institutions is not only from native
sources, but from a native standpoint. Vetancurt,
who agrees mainly with Torquemada, follows both
native and Spanish versions. Benzoni offers a go . 1
htore of personal observation on Central American

i* ■'•

OTIIEII WRITERS.

iicrican

Indians and affairs, l)iit writes fn^m licarsay wlicn
touching on ^Mexico. Writers on special districts are
also numerous. Bishop Landa wrote on Yucatan a.id
itscultur(\and is accused of haviiiij tiiven forth and in-
vented alplial)ets, as the ]Maya. Cogolludo adds much
to his accounts, while Fuentcs, llemesal, Vasquez,
Villagutierre, andJuarros exhaust the adjoining Helds
of Chia[)as and Guatemala. Thence northward the
circle may be continued Avith Burgoa's works on
Oiijaca, Beaumont's on jSIichoacan, Mota Padilla's
on Nueva Galicia, Arlegui's ou Zacatecas, Bibas' on
Sinaloa; and so forth.

Descriptions of the chroniclers and their works
might be carried to almost any extent, ))ut sufficient
has been given, I trust, to prove their testimony,
taken as a whole, closely sifted and carefully weighed,
to be quite as worthy of credence as that from which
history is usually derived. I cannot throw to the
wimls such testimony in order that certain specu-
latoi's ma}^ the better win converts to their fancy.

The traducers of Aztec culture and its chroniclers
have cvitlently failed in that most important point of
carefully reading, comparing, and analyzing the author-
ities which they so recklessly condemn as a mass of
fiction or exaggeration. It seems to me ridiculous for
the superficial i-caders of a few books to criticise the
result of such thorough researches as Prescott's, and
even to sweep them all away with one contemptuous
breath. I lor one can testify to Prescott's general
fairness and accuracy. His researches and writings
arc bcj'ond all comparison with those of any modern
theorist. Others also have read, compared, and ana-
lyzed the authorities on Mexico, perhaps even more
than Prescott, for fresh documents have ajipeared
since his time; and while some errors and discre])-
ancies have been discovered, vet in the main neither
Nahua culture nor the chronicles and records de-
scribing it can be said to have been misrepresented or
exaggerated by him.

i '!r

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

The very discrepancies in the accounts of diflferent
chroniclers, which to the experienced observer indi-
cate genuineness and truthfuhicss, are paraded by the
superticial reader as proof of falsity. The chroniclers
have for centuries been exposed to numerous and
severe ordeals of critique, and their respective defects
and merits have been widely discussed; but on the
whole these discussions tend to confirm the state-
ments which I have given, some of the strongest
testimony being found in tlieir very differences and
blunders. Thus not even their biufotrv, then so strong
and wide-spread, tlieir simplicity, their prejudices in
different directions, none of these can conceal the
truth or its main features, although occasional points
may still remain hidden under a false coloring. The
rigid censorship exercised in Spain over all writings
led to the suppression of many works, but the main
effort was to suppress heterodoxy and unfavoiable
reliections on Spanish policy, and if culture questions
were touched, to lower the estimate thereof hi order
to cover vandalism.

AVliile thoroughly convinced that we have in the
early American chroniclers a solid foundation for his-
tory, as before stated I do not by any means accept
as truth all they say; I do not accept half of what
some sav, while others I find it difficult to believe
at all. Upon this basis, then — that is, on the basis
of truth and well sifted facts — I will present a few of
the leading characteristics of the Naliua and ]\Iaya
peoples, sufficient in my opinion to justify their claim,
as the world goes, to be called civilized.

Whether those who thus aft'ect to disbelieve in
Aztec culture, including such men as Lewis Cass
and R. A. Wilson, advocate an Old World origin for
some of the advanced features does not matter, for
there is absolutely no evidence for such origin beyond
resemblances which may be traced between nations
throughout the world; on the other hand, there are

f:i:ii!

THE CITY OF MEXICO.

lifforent
er iucli-
1 by the
'oniclcrs
3US and
> dofects
; on the
c stato-
trongest
ices and
lo strong
idiccs in
[;cal the
d points
ig. The
writings
;lio main
avoiablo
|uostions
in order

e in the

1 for his-

is accept

of what

) beheve

he basis

a few of

d ^Maya

ir claim,

sheve in
vis Cass
rigin for
itter, for
1 beyond
nations
;here are

strong internal evidences of th autochthonic origin
of some of the highest features of this civilization,
such as hieroglyphics and many branches of the liiglier
arts. Besides, the existence or non-existence of these
advanced arts is the point in question, not whence
tlioy came.

The city of ISIexico presents many features of ad-
vanced urban life under Aztec occupation, not alone
as related by chroniclers, but as proved by incidental
details in the account of the sieges of and by the
Si)aniards, and by the ruins. Humboldt found distinct
traces of the old city, extending in some directions far
beyond the present actual limits; and the numerous
and substantial causeways which led to it for several
miles through the lake prove that it must have been
of great extent. The causeways, though now passing
c»ver dry land, are still in use, and reveal their solidity.
Any one who will carefully read the military repoi't
and other accounts of the long protracted siege must
become impressed with the vast extent and strength
of the city; the large number and size of its temple
pyramids affirm the same. Through an aqueduct of
masonry several miles long it was supplied with water,
w]iich was distributed by pipes, and by boatmen.
Light-houses guided the lake traffic; a large body of
men kept the numerous canals in order, swept the
streets, and sprinkled them. The houses were, many
of them, large and well built. The emperor's palace
contained many suites of rooms designed for individual
occupation, not at all like anything in Xew Mexicc).
Temple-towers and turrets were frequent, proving
that structures several stories in lieight were in use.

Among the Nahuas the several branches of art
were under control of a council or academy, with a
view to promote development in poetry, music, oratory,
jiainting, and sculpture, though chietty literary arts,
and to check the production of defective work, l^eforo
this council poems and essays were recited, and inven-
tions exhibited.

THE EARLY AMERICAN CIIROXICLER.S.

If distortion assumes ])r(nniM('iico in a larj^c class of
models instead of ideal beauty, this must be attributed
to tlie jjeculiarity and cruelty of certain Aztec insti-
tutions, which stamp their traits on subjective art.

IJeauty of outline is nevertheless common, notably
in the lich ornamentation to be seen on ruins, and
on art relics transmitted in large numbers to Spain
by the conijuerors. The IViezes or borders ecjual the
Grecian in cleixant outline and combination. The
well known calendar stone contains in itself a vast
imm])er of beautiful designs. Some of the vases in
the nmseums at Mexico and Washington suri)ass the
Eti'uscan in beauty of form and in tasteful decora-
tions. Again, the terra-cotta heads jjicked up round
Teotihuacan, some of which I have in my possession,
exhibit a most truthful delineation of the human face,
with considerable expression, and are of actual beauty.

Other admii'able si)ecimens are the female Aztec
idol in the Uritish Museum, the mosaic knife with its
human figure from Cliristy's collection, the skin-clad
Aztec })i iest, the Ethiopian granite head, the beauti-
ful head from j\Iitla, and the grotesque figures I'lom
the Mexican gulf. Such specimens sullice to establish
the existence of a high denree of art amont; the
Naliuas.

As for the advance exhibited by adjohiing races,
one glance at the numerous artistic designs and
groupings on Yucatan ruins must command admira-
tion, which rises as tJie observer examines the monu-
ments at Palenque, with their extent of massive
edifices, their advanced mode of construction, their
galleries, their arches, their fine facade and interior
ornamentativ.xi, and above all, their numerous human
figures of absolute beauty in model. This applies
also to some terra-cotta relics fi'om the same quarter.

Oinamental work in gold and silver had reached a
perfection which struck the Sjianiards with admira-
tion, and much of the metal obtained by them was
given to native smiths to shape into models and set-

WORK IX METALS.

tinc^.s. !Many plcpcs scMit to Europe wcro pronounrod
sui)C'iior to what Old World artists could thou i)n)-
ducL". IJirds and (jtlier animals wurc modelled with
astonishing exactness, and furnished with movahle
win'fs, leirs, and tonjxues. The so-called 'lost art' ot'
castinL^ parts of the same object in dill'erent nictals
was known; thus iishes wei'e modelled with altriiiate
scaks of j^old and silver. Coi)[)er and other nictals
were gilded by a process which would have made tlu;
fortune of a goldsmith in Europe. Furnaces, perhaps
of earthen-ware, and blow|)i[)es, are depicted on native
[)aintings in comi(.'ctioii with gold-woi'king.

Although there had been but little progress in
mining, yet a beginning appears to have been made
in obtaining nu'tajs and minerals fr()ni the solid rock,
and melting, casting, lummiering, and carving were in
use among goldsmiths and (^ther workers, as shown
in native paintings. This is one of the strongest
[>roofs that the Xaiiuas were |)roL>ressing in civih/.ation,
not at a stand-still nor retroofradinsr, for such miniuLT
and molting methods must surely lead to the discovery
of iron ere they stopped. Cutting inij)lements were
made of copper alloyed with tin, and tempered to
great hardness. Yet stone tools were still chieily
used, particular!}' those of obsidian, from which mir-
rors were also niade, equal in reilecting power to
those of Europe at that time, it was said. Softer
stone being chieily used, Hint implements suflieed
lor tlie sculptor; yet specimens exist in hard stone.
Precious stones were cut with c()})per t(,)ols, with the
aid of silicious sand, and carved in forms of ani-
mals. Specimens of their art m stone and metal were
received in Europe, \vliere chroniclers of different
minds and impulses write in ecstasy over workman-
ship which in so many instances surpassed in excel-
lence that of Spain. The fabrics and feather-work
wore equally admired for linencss of texture, l)rilliancy
of coloring, and beauty of arrangement and form. So
accurate were the representations of animals in relief

TllK KAIUA' AMKlllCAX ClIUONRLKliS.

'ii'j

aiul drawing a« to hltvo the naturalist Hirnandtz for
models.

'I'lu! Xaliua paintings show littli; ai'tistic merit,
bc'('an-;e the flgui'es, in order to be intelligilile, wero
iiccessariiy conventional, as wi-ro tlie i\'L,ni)tiaii hiero-
gly])lii('s. This necessity luiturally crainjK'd art. J>ut
while the Egv[)tians carried the conventionality «'Veu
to sculpture and painting generally, the Nahuas clung
to it closely only in their writings; and it needs
but a glance at many specimens among ruins an<l
nslics to sec that considerable skill had been reached
in delineating even the human form and face in
])lastic material, for in painting the develo[)ment was
small. An art, however, which apjjroaclied tliat of
painting was the formation of designs and imitation
of animal forms,and even faces, witli leathers— leath(^r-
mosaic— so beautifully done that tlu^ feather-pictures
are declared by wondering Spaniards to have ecjualled
tlie best works of ]"]uropean painters. S[)ecimens are
still to be seen in museums. The artist would olten
spend hours, even days, in selecting and adjusting
one feather in order to obtain the desired shade of
color.

Fabrics were made of cotton, of rabbit-hair, or of
both mixed, or with feather admixture. The rabbit-
hair fabrics were pronounced equal in finish and text-
ure to silk. The fibres of maguey and palm leaves
were used for coarser cloth. Paper in long narrow
sheets was made chiefly of maguey fibres, and tliough
thick, the surflicc was smooth. Gums a])pear to liave
been used for cohesion. Paiehmcnt was also used.
Skins were tanned by a p>rocess not described, but the
result is highly praised. J\i dyeing they appeared to
have excelled Europeans, and cochineal and other
dyes have been introduced among us from them.
Many of their secrets in this art have since been lost.

There is little doubt that the palaces of the rulers
were of immense extent, and provided with manifold
comforts and specimens of art. Numerous divisions

NAIIUA XSTITUTI0X3.

cxistofl for liaronis, private rooniH, rotvption and state
rooms, j^iiard- rooms, servants' quarter, storehouses,
oardeiis, juid meiiaufi'ries. Tlie clironielei's spealc o['
walls laced with p(»lished marhleaiid jas])er; of balco-
nies supported l)ymonoliths,()f sculptures and <'arvinL;s,
(if tapestry hrilliant in colors and liiu^ in texture, t»t'
censers with burninrj perfume. The a<lmitted excel-
lence! in arts and Wi.-alth, the possession of i-are stones
and metals, pennit to some extent the belief in a
] lall of Gokl, Room of Emeralds, and so forth, which
the chroniclers place within the ])alacos.

The menagerici at ]\Iexieo was large and varied, and
the many beautifully laid out gardens in all jiarts of
the country, some devoted to scientilic advancement,
denote a hirjh status in natural history.

Thi'oughout the narratives of tlu^ chroniclers the
Aztec ruler receives the titloof emperor, which it was
not tlie custom of the conquerors to give unadxisedly.
It was almost a sacred title in their eyes, their own
sovereign being so called, and they were not likely to
a|)ply that title to a connnon Indian chief Indeed,
the native records relate that jNIontezuma II. after
many conquests assumed the title em})eror, or ruler,
of the world. In two of the Nahua kingdoms the
succession was lineal and hereditary, and fell to the
eld(;st legitimate son, those born of concubines or
lesser wives being passed over. In ^lexico election
])ivvailcd, but the choice was restricted to one family.
The system resembled very much that of the electoral
rjernian empire. Each of these rulei's was expected
to confer with a council, the number and composition
of whose members arc not quite satisfactorily estab-
lished. Executive jxovernment was intrusted to re^•u-
larly appointed officials and tribunals. In Tlascala a
parliament composed of the robility and headed l)y
the four lords determined the aftairs of government.

I'hc native records indicate a number of classes and
orders among nobles, officials, and warriors. The
highest were the feudal lords, as in Tezcuco, whose

THE EARLY AMERICAN CIIROXICLERS.

jiositlon coD'cspoiulcd very niueli to that of the miglity
liar ill of'deriuany ill former t'lncs, all kc>pt from defying
the supreme ruler hy a balaiu iiig of power, by private
jealousies, and later by the ruler inereasing their num-
bers, and thus eh)sely uttaehing to himself a large pro-
portion, and 1)V o1)liging others to constantly leside in
the capital, either to i'erm a council or on other ])re-
tences. Another means for contrt)lling the haughty
feudal lord, and indued a step toward abolishing their
])owir, was to divide the kingdom into sixty-live de-
partments, whose gcn'crnors were nearly all creatures
of the king. The })opulation of certain distri'.-ts Mas
moved in [>art to other districts, or made to receive
inwanclerers, both operations tending to give the king
greater control. Instances of such master-strokes of
policy as are related in ai)original records serve to
show the power of the monarch and tbe advanced
system of government.

In ^Mexico the })eople had had access in a groat
measui'e to military, civil, and court offices, but with
tlu' enthronement of ^Montezuma II. the nobles man-
aged to obtain exclusive control of nearly all dignities.
This I'cform naturally served to alienate the })eople
and to aid in the dt)wnfall (»f the em] lire.

The list of royal oilieials is imposing in its length,
and is vouched lor not only by the minute account of
the titles and duties of the dignitaries, but by the
many incidental allusions to them and their acts in
the native ivcords of events. The hst embraces olnces
corresponding to minister of war, who was also com-
mandi I'-in-chief; to minister of finance, grand master of
ceremonies, grand chand)erlain, superintendent of arts,
etc. There were also military orders, corresponding
to the knights of medi;eval I^ui-ojK", while the church
had its gradations of priests, guardians, deacons, friars,
nuns, and })robationers.

Several ti'ibunals existed, each with a nundjer of
aj)]>ointed judgt's and a staff of oilieials; and a|)peals
could be carried from one to the othei", and linally to

JUDICIARY -VXD LAND TENURE.

1 dying
)i-ivatc

V llUlll-

's'uio ill
cr ])re-
aiii4'lity
iSX their
ivc do-
oatures
cti was
rcccivu
luj kinii;
•okcs of
icrvo to
Avaiiced

a cfro^t
)ut with
s man-
nit ios.
people

,^■1

liMififth,

ouut of

))y tho

acts in

s oiliCL'S

so coni-
ister of
.of arts,
DoiuUni;
•hurch
friars.

)cr ot

ap))Ot

Ina

lly to

tho supreme judj^e, who was without a colleague. In
the wards were elected magistrates, who judged minor
cases in the first instance, and an inferior class of
justices, assisted by bailiffs and constables. Some
courts had jurisc^iction over matters relating only to
taxes and their collectors, others over industries and
arts. Cases were conducted with the aid not alone of
V( il>al testimony under oath, but of paintings, repre-
si'iiliiig documents; and names, evidence, and decisions
wciv recorded by clerks. Whether advocates were
iiiiployed is not clear, but the judges were skilled iii
ci'dss-examination, and many a perjury was proved,
fdlldwcd by the penalty of death. Suits were limited
ti) t'ighty days, liribery was strictly forbidden. T\\c
judges W(n'e selected from the higher class, the sui)eii(ir
tVoiii relatives of the kings, and held ollice f »r life,
sustained by ample revenues. Adultery and similar
ciiiiiis were severely punished.

Laud was divided in dilfirent ]MY)portions, the
largest owned by king and nobles, ami t!ie remaindt r
hy tlie t(nu[)les and communities of the peo])le. All
>\U'\\ ]))'operty was duly siirveyt'd, and each estate
accurately marked on ma[>s or luiintings, ke[)t on llle
hy (hstrict otlicials. ]']acli class of landed estate had
then its distinctive color and name, and from each
owiun* or tenant was exacted tribute in protluct or
sci'vic(\ regular or occasional. Fori ions of ihe crown
land wi're granted to usufructuarie ■ an<l tlieir heirs;
till' service rendered and to be reielered. Tu con-
(|Uere(l provinces a certain territt.iy was set aside I'or
the coiKpieroi" and cultivated by the people for his
heiietit. The estates of the nobles were, many of
ihein, of ancient origin, and often entaile(l, which fad,
estaldishcs to a certain extent the jjiixate ownership
u land. These feudatories paid no rent, but were
heuud to render . 'vice to the crown with person,
\assals, and property, when called u[)on. The jieople's
land belonged to the wards of the towns or \ illages,
with perju'tual and inalienable tenure. Individual

HaSAYS AM) MlSCELLANV 3

THE EARLY AMERICAN CITROXICLERS.

members of the ward were, on demand, assigned por-
tions for use, and could even transmit the control
thereof to heirs, but not sell. Certain conditions
must be observed for the tenure of such lands, and
tlie observance was watched over by a council of
elders or its agents.

Tlicre is mucii in this to confirm the resemblances
to the feudal system of Europe already noticed. TJie
exactness of the information on land tenure is con-
firmed by investigations instituted under auspices of
tlio Spanish government with a view to respect the
liglits of the natives, so far as the claims of con-
(pierors and settlers permitted. Cortes obtained from
the native archives and officials copies of the estate
ma|is, and tax lists, by which he was guided in his
distributi(^n of land and collection of trilnite.

In tlie department of the minister of linance, and
in the otfices of the numerous tax collectors, were kept
hieroglyphic lists of the districts, towns, and estates,
designating the kind and quantity of tax to be paid
by each, in j)roduct or service. A copy of such a list
is given by Lorenzana, and others arc reproduced in
the Codex j\lendoz;a, and other collections. Certain
cities had to su[»ply tlie palaces with laborers and sir
vants, food and I'urniture, fabrics and other material;
otiiers })aid tlieir service and products regularly to
the finance department, or wlien called upon. j\lanu-
facturers and nunThants paid in the kind they pos-
sessed, and artisans often in labor. Tlie tenants of
nobles tilled land for tiieir own benefit, and ])ai(l
I'tMit in a certain amount of labor for the landlord,
and in military service when called upon; besides
this, tliey paid tribute in kind to the crown, tlie pro-
duce being stored away in magazines in the nearest
towns.

There were nearly four hundred tributary towns
in the ^Mexican empire, some paying taxes sev^eral
times a month, others less often, and still others only
once a year, the amount being in many instances over

COMMERCE AXD SOCIETY.

eel por-
contrc A
editions
ids, and
ancil of

iblances
)d. Tho

is cou-
;piceft of
pcct tho

t)f con-
ned from
ic estate
xl in his

tncc, and
rcro kept
1 estates,
:> 1)0 paid
Licli a list
)duced in
Certain
and ser-
material ;
ularly to
^lanu-
hey pos-
cnants of
and l^aid
landlord,
l)esides
, the pro-
le nearest

iry towns
3S sev'eral
thers only
moes over

I
I

■-4

a third of everything prochiced. Custom-houses also
existed for exacting duties.

In the capitals of the provinces resided chief treas-
urers, each with a coqis of collectors, who not only en-
foi-ced the payment of taxes but watched that lands
were ]<ept under cultivation and industries generally
maintained.

To illustrate the extent to which organization cn-
tcre'd into the affairs of life, we can point to the mer-
cliaiits, with their guilds, apprenticeship, caravans,
markets, fairs, agencies, and factories in distant re-
gions. Tlatelulco was renowned for her trade and
v;isl market, and her merchants really formed a
. ,;iu.i '■) Mai corporation controlling the trade of the
(• >\; 'Jy- Sahagun's records sketch the development
oi" i')i-' company. Maps guided them in their journeys,
ti'il)unnls of their own regulated aifairs, and different
aiilclos were accepted as a medium for exchange, in-
cluding copper and tin pieces, and gold-dust. Tlu;
Kiaikct at Tlatelulco, in the vast extent of booths,
and of articles for sale, and in its regulations, was a
source of wonder to the Spaniards. Couriers and
inns existed to aid travel and intercourse; also roads,
well kept and often paved, such as late exploration
in Yucatan shows to have connected distant cities.
In naviix'.tion the Mexicans were less advanced

One lawful witt; was married with spei'ial coremo-
iiiis, and her cliiV! 'On were flu? oidy legitimate issue.
Three a(i li i(;'.;!] '^lasses of mates were admissible:
Ihoso bound to t'.e n»:in with less solenm ct'rtnnonies,
and bearing tho <.'^l- of wife, like the legitimate one,
yet deprived of inheritance or nearly so, together with
llieir children; those bound with no ceremonies, and
tanking merely as concubines; and those who co-
liahitod with unmarried men, and who miglit be
married by their- lovers or by other men. These two
classes of ( -ucubines were not entitled to the respect
accorded t'^- Uie first-named, yet no dishonor attached
to their condition. Public prostitutes were toleratwl

till

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

ill !

as a necessary evil. This is a social condition whicli
needs not for its justification to seek a parallel amon;^
other nations recognized as civilized, nor among the
European princes who puhlicly maintained tlie same
classes of consorts and mistresses.

Schools Hourisncd in connection with the temple
under contn)l of the priests, and in ^Mexico every (|uar-
ter had its school fortlic; common [)eo[)le, after the man-
ner of our public schools. There were higher schools
or colleges for sons of nobles and those destined for the
priesthood, wherein were taught history, religion,
philosophy, law, astr u>omy, writing, and interpreting
hieroglyphics, singiui , ' • 'ing, use of arms, gymnas-
tics, and many arts an oiences. A result of this
higli training may be found in the many botanical
and zoological collections in the country, an<l the pro-
niotion of art in scul])ture, weaving, feather orna-
ments, and jewelry, by the nobles and the wealthy.

Picture-writing is practised to a certain extent by
all savages, both in rej)resentative and symbolic form,
but it is only by studying the art, or following its
development to a higher grade, that it acquires per-
manent value, or can be made the means to gain for
its possessors the cultiu'c stamp of keeping records,
and records were kept by the Xahuas. They 1 d ad-
vanced to some extent even in the ])honetic form of
picture-writing, but had not reached the alphabetic
grade. Any codex will show in abundance the repre-
sentative and syml)olic signs, and some that are ])ho-
netic. In reliijjious and astrolo^-ic documents the si«>'ns
vary so greatly that the theory has been strongly
asserted tiiat the priests used a partially distinct
syi.ibohc system for certain records. When studying
cliurch ibrms under the missionaries the natives used
plionetic^ signs to aid their memory in remembering
abstract words, a method also recognized in the pre-
served paintings for designation of names. The sys-
tem is apparently of native origin. The Maya writing
is still more phonetic in its character.

■■5*

HISTORY AND ASXnOXOMY.

tl wliicli

oiij^ the
le saiuo

( temple
■ry (juar-
:lie maii-
? schools
d for the
religion,
qtri'tini^
gyinnas-
) of this
botanical
the pro-
cr orna-
wcalthy.
xteut by
)hc form,
win-j- it-i
ires pv'r-

gam for

•ecorcls,

1. .] atl-

form of

ihabutio

10 repro-

are pho-

lic .signs

strongly

distiiH'fc

studying

vcs used

nnboring

the pro-

Tho sys-

.1 writing

The Nahua records, in hioroglyjjhic characters, in-
clude trarhtional and historical ann;ds, with nanujs and
gcncalogie tables of kings and nobles, lists and tribute
j'olls of i)rovinccs and towns, land titles, law codes,
court records, calendar, religious rules and I'ites, edu-
cational and mechanical processes, etc. The hiero-
glyphic system was known in its ordinary ap})lication
to tlu! (educated classes, while the priests alone under-
y.inod it fidly. ^J'he characters were })ainted in bright
coliirs, on long strips of papei-, cloth, or parchment, or
(■;iived in stone. Original specimens on stone and
p.ijicr or skin exist to prove the eflicicncy of the sys-
1. Ill for all ordinary requiren^ents, and to establish for
l!ie race that high index of (iil'ure, the possession of
v.iitten annals. The 8[)anish authorities ibr a long
lime had to appeal to them to settl*.! land and other
suits, and ii) iix taxes, etc. The several codices in
I'liinipean libraries and nmseums, with their earl>' and
rci-eut interjiretation, have added much valuable ma-
terial to ancient history; Ixtlilxochitl and others built
their histories mainly on such paintings.

The Nahuas were well acquainted with the move-
ments of the sun, moon, and of some })lanets, and
observed and recorded eclipses, though not attributing
them to natural causes. Their calendar divided tinu;
into ages of two cycles, each cycle consisting of four
]Miiods of thirteen j'ears, the years of each cycle being *
distinctly designated by signs and names with mun-
liers, in orderly arrangement, as shown on their scul}»t-
ured stone>. The civil vearwas divided into ei'-'iiteen
mouths of twenty days, with iive e\tr:i days to com-
jilete the year; and each month into foui" sections
or weeks. Extra days were also added at the end (^\'
the cycle, so that our calculations are closely a]>-
]>i'oaclied. The day was divided iuto fixed periods
(• iri'esponding to liours. All the above divisions had
their signs and names. The ritual calendar was lunar,
with twenty weeks of thirteen days for the year, all
dill'eriii'jf in their enumeration, thouuh the names oi"

THE EARLY AMERICAN CHRONICLERS.

!ll|i I

i r r

tlie days were the same as in the solar calendar. Tho
system of uumeratiou was simple and comprehensive,
without limit to the numbers that could be expressed;
and so were the signs for them. It was essentially
decimal.

These are some few instances of Nahua culture
which might easily be extended to fill a volume al"ter
all exaggeration has been thrown out; and all this,
be it remembered, was the condition of things f<jur
hundred years ago. Compare it with the European
civilization or semi-civilization of that day on the one
hand, and with the savagism of tho Iroquois and
(3jib\vays on the other, and then judge which of the
two it most resembled.

dar. Tho
"ehcnsivc,
ixprcSHcd ;
isscntially

a culture
unic al'tcr
1 all this,
liiiufs tour
European
u the one
:(Uois and
ich of the

CHAPTER II.

THE NEW CIVILIZATION.

Aiiuing men valor and pruiloiieo are seldom mot with, and of all humaa
fcxitllouciud justice i.s still more uucomuioii.

—Pl„l„r<-h.

Amidst tho seemingly fortuitous flight of time and
evi»hition of nations, we may re.st assured of some
things that they are tolerably certain to come to pass.
Tliore arc a few simple and self-evident j)ropositions
wliicli are sure to work themselves out in certahi sim-
ple and self-evi(h'nt results.

For example, satisfied that from the once cliaotic
universe this planet emerged in a crude uninliabited
state ; that the cooling process is yet going on, and
the plants and animals engiMideredhavcnotyet reached
perfection ; that the once wild humanity is gradually be-
coming what is called ^xvilized, the human intellect
slowly extending its sway over all the earth; satisfied
of these and other like phenomena, we may know that
it is oidy a question of more time, a further progress,
a yet more powerful reign of mind, when there will
be no more savagism, measured by the standard of
to-day; when a liiglier than tlie present culture will
extend to the uttermost })arts of tlie earth, wlien a
culture more refined than ever yet tlio world has wit-
iK'Sscd, intellectual domination more extended and
(•oini)l(;to, science, literature, and tlie arts more elevated
and all-compelling than ever has been or at present is
dreamed of will develop upcm these shores, upon this
western eartli's end, this terminus of the grand pro-
gressional highway from the oriental cradle of civili-
zation to the farthest occidental reach of firm land.

( o'i )

THE NEW CIVILIZATION.

: I

mmr

"If

11:1)'

:ii:!ii!i'

(3f old, proplicts spake of a new heaven and a new
eartli ; we may licro predict with far better reason a
New Civilization.

If the future can in any degree he determined from
the past — and upon this doctrine man bases every rule
of action; if, in the progress of human affairs, the de-
velopment of intellect, the evolution of societies, there
is anything like method or law, by which from what
has been we may judge to some extent of what will
be, then we may know that hereupon and around this
western point of the temperate zone man's highest and
ultimate endeavor is to be achieved.

For the tide of intelliijence havinfj ever been from
east to west, and the ultimate west having been at-
tained, civilization nmst pause in its migration, and
cither turn backward or work out its salvation on this
ground. Hitherto there has been no turning back ;
tlie east has ever declined as the west has advanced,
oriental peo[)les having lapsed toward barbarism, and
oriental cities being well-nigh dead.

That away back in the dim prehistoric there may
have been movements of peoples other than those
given in orthodox st(ny, or origins of race, or cradles
of civilization otlier than those generally accepted,
docs not affect the fact ; indeed, we can })lainly trace
the westward current for thirty or forty centuries, and
it has not wholly ceased flowing yet.

The classic nations of the Mediterranean preserve
the tradition of their respective phases of the Aryan
migration, with the elaborations prompted by romance
and vanity, as in ^neas, who with his followers, witli
sacred fire and the national nods of Trov, set out for
the unknown shores of Hesperia. The east is known,
though dimly, by means of maintained commercial
relations, while the west became the object of curios-
ity and attraction, to which mystery lent a veneration
which stands revealed in the assimiment here of the
happy abode of the Hesperides.

The incentives for the movement must ever remain

PAST A\I) FUTURE.

r remain

a dim conjorturc. Sciciu u points to America as the
oldest continent, peopk'd percliancc from now sub-
mcii^ed areas, of wliicli the Azores and Cape Yerde
islands present vestiges on one side, and l\)lynesia on
the other. The rcsend)lanco of race-types on either
side of Bering strait confirms the natural supposition
of ancient intercourse in this quarter. The oceans
interposed obstacles well-nigh insurmountable to mi-
grations from America, save by the north-western ap-
proach to Asia. In times of more favorable climatic
conditions, this route may have been a great highway,
altliougli long shice closed by its winters, and its dreary,
hanen surroundings.

Whether or not we accept one common origin for
mankind, or a migration to Asia from America, or
still older lost continents, the westward advance from
the Asiatic table-lands is generally ad()})tetl. The re-
cent theory of a Scandinavian source fur the Aryans
has not presented itself in sufficiently strong array to
merit comparison with the other. Tlie Phoenician
migration of traders and colonizers alone forms a
more imposing evidence of the westwaid movement
than any to be found in favor of the south-eastward.

Among tiie incentives for the start of the migration
must he considered, as now, not alone over-population,
Avar, famine, and other disastrous incidents, but the
attractions also of nomad life on the plains, and the
inspiriting influence of travel. Fron) the interior
of Asia swept several great invading hosts within his-
toric times. Theinstilled jnission forroaming, fostered
l)y the possession of beasts of burden, found a stinmlus
in the swiftness of the animals wherein lay alike safety
and the tcinptation to daring feats. The pressure of
such restless peoples was suflicient in itself to compel
tlicir more settled neighbors to seek a new home,
wliilc the resources of richer nations,b(n'dering on the
ocean and its fertilizing tributaries, served as an allure-
ment to raid and conquest, from which China and
India suffered in common with occidental rey-ions.

TUE NEW CIVlLIZiVnON.

Tlie direction of advance from tlic Asiatic plateaux
may luive Ikjoii in a mtja.surt! indicated by the course of
tlie sun, wliich in tlie sjilondor t)f its wcHtorn retreat
hold forth an entrancin*^ promise to the toiler as he
sank to rest and meditation after the day's labor. It
is evident, however, that the route westward was less
obstructed than tliose to the cast and south, for here
interposed lofty moutitain rant^es, the bulwark of com-
pact settlements reachin!^ to the ocean. In these
directions the proximity of the sea placed a bar to
advance. For that matter, the exodus from the in-
torii^r plains overran the continent in all directit)ns,
hito Kathai, Hindostan, and Persia ; but it was loft
to the highest race, the Aryan, to follow the guiding
sun mainly along an equable zone, whose conditions
were best ada})ted to the unfolding of culture. The
fructifying element lay in the movement, and the con-
se<pient contact with different peoples and institutions,
to bo absorl)ed during a more or less prolonged stay,
together with the blood-infusion of the conquered.
Thus the eye of })rogress with its inquiring gaze, and
the arm of progress with its romance and revelations,
have ever been directed toward the setting sun.

Still another explanation for the westward march
is furnished by the unfolding of settlements in the
United States of America. The first colonists occu-
pied the coast region. Later comers were obliged to
extend themselves along the rivers inland. The
movement contiimed westward in quest of new lands,
until the inner border peoples, cranqjod for lack of
outlet, beijan to look toward the Pacific coast for re-
lief The construction of railways has rendered less
attractive or important the sea-shore, with its pre-
viously better means for intercourse and trade, and its
more equable temperature.

Thus in Asia, whether originating in an older con-
tinent or not, the people naturally clustered along the
coast and the great river channels, with their addi-
tional attractions of fish. The gradual filling up of

THE EAST AND THE \\ EST.

China aucl India loft tlic Aryans among others as a
horder tribe of the interior. Tlie wealth of the In-
dian iH'ninsulas served to increase the attractions for
the seaboards, and lend an incentive to the march.
Thus was occupied every attractive point westward.
On reaching Africa, the desert on one side, and the
mountains and ecjuatorial heat on the other, turned
the next pliase of tlie movement from the Nile ranges,
along the northern shores of the Mediterranean, until
the Atlantic was reached. A fresh field being opened
ill America, social and political troubles antl as[iira-
tious prompted another advance, with a still greater
intellectual development. The highest culture is
found always along the paths of trade, with its sdnm-
latiiig intercourse, along the highway from India to
PhaMiicia, along the [)eninsula of the northern ^Mi'di-
teiiaiu-an, thence to spread by ct)lonization westward
and north, to be rooted among the slower yet stronger
peoples b(trdering on the North Sea.

The most strikinsx i)ro«;ress was attained with the
opening of new fields in America, attended by more
daring and inspiriting.voyagesand expeditions, and by
a battling with nature hi the founding of settlements,
whidi led to a practical self-reliance and inventive
faculty,.ever the sources of the widest develo[)nient.
The acquisition of vacant land on which to exert in-
telligent energy was a strong factor in the advance,
and the location of progressive peoples along the tem-
piiate belt gave stimulus to efl'orts, as did the libera-
tion from civil and ecclesiastical restraint, with the
piivilege to freely think and act and work out the
prompthigs of laudable aspirations.

This check to liberty, and the lack of free land, tended
to steep the middle ages of Europe in stagnation,
while the encirclinyr Mohannnedans, of inferior traits
and abilities, under stinmlatiuij movement and inter-
course, conquest and empire building, were develophig
to an exceptional degree of culture. The two obsta-
cles removed, Europe resumed her onward march,

THE NEW CIVILrZATION.

wliilo tliG Sararons, (Icprlvod of tliesc honofits, fell be-
liiiul. Tlu! cncrj^y latent in man nct-ds only projur
incentive to manifest itself with eil'ect ; but the nature
of the incentive varies somewhat as illustrated by
the followers of the Bible and the Koran. The pres-
ent advance is marked especially by the elevation of
the masses, by means of inventions and ac{|uis'ition
of landed interest.

It is a matter worthy of consideration, that ever
since the world was made down to the present time,
there have been untenanted lands for a crowded hu-
manity to overflow into, swarminiif places for tlie race;
that althouiih as men futliomctl science more and
mor(\ and became skilled in the arts, and assumed
more and more a mastery over nature, tliey required
less rf)om, yet the area occuj)ied was ever filling up
with human beings, whom land could not adequately
sustain, or developm(nit provide for, tlius rendering
constantly necessary new lands or else a curtailment
of p()[)ulation.

The thory of population which leaves no standing-
room for further comers is findin»jc realization faster
than its originators imagined. It is but a question of
time when the race increase nmst stop, if not by one
means then by another. Until now the wmld has
had a west, where good land could be had for the
taking; there is not now left a single acre of the kind.
True, our western lands for the present will hold many
more people, and poorer lands will be utilized, but all
the same the end will come — the end of the world, it
may be, as it is noticeable that in the more advanced
staocs of national a<>e and culture, increase is first
arrested, and then population retrogrades.

What is civilization? The question has often been
asked, but never answered. Nor can it be satisfac-
torily explained until human knowledge has advanced
much farther, has, indeed, entered the domain of om-
niscience. The irrepressible unfolding of intellect stands

WHAT IS CIVILIZATION?

,. the same category with the otluT <;ivat unknowable
invstcrics of tlie universe. AVhat is life i what intel-
Itrt^ Ifow .shall bo unravelled the tan;^;le(l thread of
t)ri'iin and destiny? The self-conseiousness wlilch
makes man know that he is, tlie reasoning faculties
which tell hun that his mind is sometiung diU'erent
tV.iin mere brute intelligence, his aH|)irations something
diU'crent from, if not, hulced, higher and more lasting
th;ni mere brute instinct, and that existi'uce has its
si.;nifi<'anc(; to him — this consciousness revt-als to the
Miissessor at once an ocean of knowledge and an eter-
nity of despair.

Although the offspring of man is the most lu'lpless
an<l apparently senseless of all animals during the long
period of its infant existence, it makes rapid strides
afterwards. Measure by this standaid the llfo of
the human race, and it has many millions of years
vet to live before it knows all there is to In- known,
and can do all there is to be done; so slowly unfolds
the intellect, so slowlv nature reveals herself to man!
It seems to have taken a long time before man could
gain a |)ositlon distinct from the brute creation. It
is ditticult to conceive the point of separation, or to
apply the ordinary tests to distinguish absolute savag-
isni from incipient civilization. We say that wiien
man, with intellect still a germ, indistinguishable from
instinct, bends branches and places sticks and bark so
as tlie better to shelter himself; the moment he seizes
a club to assist him in cajituring food, he has taken
the first step from savagism toward civilization; and
yet many animals do this, and more, animals which
never advance further. The difference is more
marked, however, when man, after deliberately erect-
ing for himself a hut, sits down before it, and shar[)ens
one end of his stick, or in one end of it makes a slit,
ill which he fastens a stone so that one end shall be
the heavier, or perhaps sharpens the stone before he
ties it to a stick in the form of a hatchet, notwith-
standing sticks and stones when taken apart are used

THE NEW CIVILIZATION.

by many animals as weapons. Let tlie sharpened
end of tlie stick be hardened in the fire, tipped with
])ois(»n, or with sharpened flint, or botli, and let a
bow be strmig with which to drive the feathered dart,
and a stride has been made which satisfies hmnanity
perl laps for thousands of years.

The advance may be slow. Nevertheless, there is
an advance ; and herein lies the diflcrence between
man and brute. The one, with the aid of reason, im-
proves his weapons, wliile the other does not. And
this iniprovhig is civilization. Here may be noticed
the anomaly in man emeroing from a purely primitive
state, that while decoration is before dress, in teni-
perat(! zones at least, in all of his otlier unfoldings,
the practical precedes tlie ornamental. In the very
fact lliat the naked wild man isof all animalsthe least
fitted by nature to provide for himself his fir.st necessity,
food, lies the strongest of hnpulses for him to abandon
savagism, and set out on his endless journey toward
civilization — endless, because civilization is not an end
but an aim. If the world stands ten thousand years
longer, and men continue to come and go as of old,
then we of to-day are savages as compared with the
more cultured [)eople of that remote period. As no-
where on the globe mankind are now born into a
state of absolute savaijjisin, so nowhere can their
beginning here be made in an atmosphere of perfect
civilization.

We may go further and say with truth and reason
of the latest civilization, that if it be the foremost on
the eartii of its da}', it nuist of necessity be the far-
thest advanced of any that has been before. It can
not blot out all the benefits to the race added by its
predecessors, and so leave the world the worse. Civ-
ilization is a progress, a perpetual and continuous pro-
gress, although the advance is more marked at certain
tim(>8 and in certain directions. Such growth, like
that of most things in nature, may not be visible to
the eye, but it is none the less i)resent. There may

PROGRESS DURING THE DARK AGE.

be apparent inaction, or even retrogression, during
^vIii(•]l many tilings are forgotten, and some valuable
arts lost ; yet who shall say ot'any period, long or short,
that here was no advance, or tliere civilization rested (

It is true that since tlic dawn of our present de-
velo[)inent there has been a so-calK'd Dark Age, ten
centuries, during which knowledge lay hidden away
ill musty prison-houses, and civilization slumbered,
wliile the heavens were hung in black. But was
there then really no advance during these ten dark cen-
turies ? Was there no leaven of progress working in
society, no hidden processes going on, no unseen
changes which were to yield mighty results, turning
and overturning nations, and kneading the world of
Eui<>|>e into new forms ? It is true the sky was chirk,
and all the earth incarnadine with man's blood, shed
])\- man because of conceptions so absurd, so super-
jaiively silly as to a})pear to us naught but the woik-
inus of insanitv ; and vet out of all this wickedness
and folly came great good; out of feudalism the com-
pacting of societies, out of kniglit-eri'antry the eleva-
tion of woman, out of the crusades tlu' general bieak-
ing down of barriers, the cxi)losion of fallacies, and the
out-spreading of knowledge, not to mention the tem-
poiary ascendancy of ]Mohannn( danism in g( neral
culture. Add the high achievements of art and
science, culminating in the inxcntions of ounpowder
and printing, the adaptation of the maiiner's compass
to navigation, which was followed by the discovery of
a new world, divers circumnavigations, and the final
uncovering of the entire globe. Such grand results,
the grandest the world has evi^r witnesstd. could
hardly have arisen from a stagnant pool, notwith-
standing we are in the habit of calling it thi' Daik
Age of general depression, v/hcn the intellect of man
lay dormant.

Vet, while the period following the opeinng of
America was indeed an a<j:c of i)rotjress, aside from
the few great inventions menti(.ned, how insignificant

THE NE\V CIVILIZATION.

have been tlic developments of the three past centu-
ries as compared with the achievements massed within
five decades of tlie present century, the era of steam
and steel. Still greater prospects of devchtpment
are pi'omised by electricity alone, which is as yet in
its infancy ; and who shall venture to predict the ad-
vance to be made within the following centuries ?

Duruig the past few thousand years, for which
time alone the doings of the human race have left any
record, men have been nmch occupied in their migra-
tions. These are now for the most part finished, so
far at least as large united boches are concerned. The
gn.'at migrations of the human race are ended. There
will continue, more than ever before, a restless moving
hither and thither over the face of the earth of in-
dividuals and small parties; but for a nation, or any
consider-ible portion of a nation, to arise, go forth,
and con(|Uer, despoil, and subjugate or drive out an-
other nation, will never again be done under the pres-
ent onk-r of things. The general connningling of
the peo[)les of the earth es.sentially prohil)it such.
usur[)ation. Never was intercourse so wide-s[)re'.id
and expeditious as now; n(n'er was less conspicuous
the idea of ra<'e robbery and national spoliation.

The last great migration was to California, the
western world's end, completing the cycle of Aryan
wanderings. Far less voluminous and cosmopolitan
were the movements tt)ward Australia and Africa.
On the Pacific coast met the representatives of
nations from all quarters to form a new organization,
bringing into contribution the choicest traits and ac-
quirements. What Egyptian and west Asiatic civiliza-
tion did ft»r (Ireece, what (irreece did for Home, what

ome (iKl

lor

West(

ern Europe,

all tl

le woi

Id 1

las

done for these Pacific States.

The site of this new civilization, which but lately
seemed far removed from regions of retinement and
the higher culture, lb gradually becoming the centre

DEAD NATIOXS.

4»

of the most energetic material and intellectual progress
that mav be found anions' the nati«)n's of tlie eartli
t()-(lav. The stranger coninig hither from any part
of tlie world may find more congenial companionsliip,
ni()i<' tliat is likf himself and his early lifo than in any
otlni" comnmnity. lie finds himself at home, envi-
rmii'd hy an atmosphere in which his true inwardness
mav hest thrive, and lie may trans])lant himself into
this new and natural civilization and grow as if born
ill it.

Following the law of progress, other things l)eing
e(|ii;d, the latest civilization is tlie ntost powerful, and
l.rroini's the world's master. It is most ])owerful be-
ciiuse of its superior knowledge, its superior mental
foici'. which breeds mechanical force surmounting the
fdivcs of other pe()})les and of nature, '^ilie new civili-
/.;itiiiii lias for its guide all the recorded experiences
of oilier civilizations. To tliese world-wide; and ac-
cumulated exi)eriences it may add its own intuitions
and inventions, and while avoiding tlu^ errors of oth-
eis it may profit by the wisdom of the }>ast.

The train of thought started in the east has ever
expanded in its westward advance. Each succeeding
generation has surpassed the preceding. Nevei-the-
K'^^s. the self-esteem and iirestigeof i\<xo has naturallv
sought to assert itself over youth ; the parent has
striven to maintain its authority over the child. As
licfore intimated, since the first appearance of ci\iliza-
tinii ill Kuroj)o, and indeed before it left Asia, it has
In (II the ten<lency of the east to rule the west. Al-
\va\ .s further advanc(>d in cultur(>, superior in the arts
and sciences, the peoj)le of the east have ever assumed
it as a divine right to tyrannize over those of the west,
to fisten upon them not alone their social customs,
and their mechanical contrivances, but their laws,
their literature, their modes of thought, and their rc^
hgloiis belii'fs.

When Europeans l)roke the boundaries of time, tra-
versed the Sea of Darkness, and ft)und a strange \^vo-

KSSAYK AND Ml»( l.LI.AN V I

THE NEW CIVILIZATION.

pie in their new India, the same old story was
repeated. The nations of America were less powerful
than those of Europe ; and we well know the inex-
orable law of nature, that tlio weaker must give way
to the stronger. The Indians were naked ; their
weapons were crude and ineffectual ; they had neither
steel nor guiipowdor; they were simple-minded, su-
perstitious, at war one with another, easily played
ui)on ; and finally, with no great difficulty, tliey were
suhjugated. As matters of course th*^y must learn
the language of the conquerors, they nmst accept the
faitli and obey the laws of the coiHpierors. This was
demanded ami enforced, all in the way of true right-
eousness, as the will of heaven, as the eternal pur})osc
of the almlu'htv. God should feel trulv tjrateful for
what man has done for him.

And (!ven to the present day lingers this same
sphit of domination, with the diifercnce that the spots
whereon appeared the oldest civilizations are no longer
centres of su})erior intelligence. Progress there lias
become withered, dead, the nations retrograde, and
the people have relapsed into a state morc^ hojiekss
in some respects than that of savagism. Thus the
seat of thnnination has shifted ever further westward
with the unfolding of civilization, following in the
path of the select elements which have cut loose from
eastern homes to flourish in fresher soil.

Hound about the hypothetical cradle of the race
the very earth has gone out with its people, the for-
ests are withered, and the soil exhausted. Siva has
usurped the place of Vishnu, to assume sway over
lands once ns fair as any which have so long bec^n
kept fri'sh for the new civilization. Eden of tin' Eu-
j)hrates is a desert ; where once grew the oaks of Bash-
an acorns will not sprout ; the elysian fields which
once bordered the JVIediterranean, where arc they'^

Unlike the mouldering plant which fertilizes its
successor, the decaying nations of the old world, in
common with their foi-ests and fields, seem difficult to

REVIVAL OF MATERIAL IMrROVEMENT.

restore. Like the soil of the east, progress is dissi-
nntcid rather than decayed ; for in decay is life.

In practical enterprise and cognate traits, whereon
(lopend tlic liighest unfolding of civilization, America
is iicarlv as far in advance of Eurt)pc as Europe is of
Asia. This relative excellence applies also to the
western and Pacific states, as compared with the At-
lantic seahoard of the United States. Behold the
etfect of open fields and fresh resources on self-reliant
innu on tliis western slope, in the transformation of a
wilderness into a series of flourishing states, with a
rapidity, soundness, and perfection that stand unparal-
leled I Consider tlie impromptu yet efficient organi-
zitions of local and general government; the elabora-
tion of a new system of mining under the promptings
of necessity, marked b}' inventions for sluicing and
liydraulics, in cribbing, pumping, crushing, a!id reduc-
ti.)n, devices so great as to revolutionize! and revive
the exploitation of precious metals in all })arts of the
world, the improvenu-nts in lumbering, which have
increased this business to huge porportions, and l)eno-
fitt'd the world at large, notablv bv means of the
Ilunie and saw-tooth, and the powerful and economic
mt'thod and macjiinery applicnl to agriculture, which
as.sisl>>d tt) lift California within a few vi-ars to the
front i"iid< among wheat regions. Similar advances
lave been maile in (>ther industries, and this
within the first decade or two alter tlie birth of
tliise territories and states. Within the same period
(alifornia raist'd herself from an (tl)s('ure eoloidal
and frontier settlement to a jtosition of paramount
influence along the entire Pacific coast, the nucleus
whence started the founders of .states, the chief seat
of connnercc iji the Occident, the school wluMice issued
disciples to scatter the seed of Anglo-Saxon culture
ainoiig the retrograde nations of the south and the
orient.

Turnips transplanted from the east to California
change in their nature; so do grains and grasses, fruit

I
Pi

i''

THE NEW CIVUJZATIOX.

and livo stock, and likewise men. Bone, sinew,
brains, tlie whole person teeming witli determinate
pur[)ose, comprise the lapis pJiHosoplifmnih of Califoriiian
alcliemists. Thus into the alenihicof tliis licteroLiciie-
ous society, into this land of broad possibilities, came
many a young farmer and mechanic for his refining;
many a busitiess man and scientist.

In art, literature, and learning, we must exi)oct the
east for some time yet to patronize the west. In
journalisui we nmst expect that as the editor of the
London JfiqJiJn'udrr regards the editor of the New
York lIi(jhhh)<Jer with disdain, so will the editor of
the New York H/'ghhindrr have no hesitation in man-
ifesting his contempt for whatever appears in tlie
columns of the Chicago HigJthindrr or the San Fran-
cisco IfigJihhider. The eastern editor may be the
wiser man, or he may not be so; if the latter, he
hap])ily does not know it, and putting on his cloak of
tradition and environment, he will continue to write
most bravely.

The east has been so long accustomed to play the
part of schoolmaster that it does not realize that in
the west also are things to learn and brains to learn
tiiem ; it does not realizes that much of its so-called
learninu; is obsolete or untrue, that manv of its teach-
ings are al)surdly fallacious and fals(\ and that the
first work of western wisdom is to utilearn a large part
of what it has been taught by the east, more especially
in regard to matters of M'hich no one can know any-
thing. If we have not here so much of conversational
refinement and ])rudish formalism, it is because we do
not want them, ]>ref(>rring a })hysical energy with un-
adulterated intellectual force.

For centuries to come, and henceforth to the end
for aught anyone can tell, the tendency of culture
will be to concentrate on this Pacific seaboard, the
terminal of the great Aryan marcli; nor is this expec-
tation without good and reasonable ground. Consider

THE LATEST MIf;RATlON.

nlonc the vast array of resources in fertile soil, mineral
deposits, forests, fish, and the like, and a climate t)f
uiisur|)assed equability for fully twenty degrees of
latitude. The choioesc <»f these advantages unite in
CaHfornia, which, from its peculiarly favorahle geo-
ornphic position and fine harbors,will ever sustain it-
self as a great entrepot for traile between the orient
and the Australasias, and the vast range of states and
countries eastward.

This ])rospect of a great future brings forward one
more point for consideration. There is a unity of hi-
terests among the nations bordering the Pacific side
of the continent which circumstances are just now be-
ginning fully to develop. Time brings to ])ass many
wonderful things. The eastern side of America does
not always regard the western with a benignant eye,
single to the interests of the nation. There are moun-
tain barriers dividing the east from the west; there
are broad [)lacid waters inviting intercourse between
the south and the north. This western strip of North
America nature has made one country. The same
world-enwrapping w^aters wash its entire shore ; the
same glow of sunset bathes its entire borders. It
makes little difference what the political divisions
may be, so long as the several states or re[)ublics are
at peace and harmony, one with another. Several in-
dependent governmcntsalong thisPacific seaboard may
i)e better or worse than one, according to circumstances.

In ])roof of these premises, we see already com-
nieneed a migration different from anv which has
preceded it; a migration, not for gold, (»r furs, or coii-
(juest, or religion, by adventurers, soldiers, jiriests, or
jirltrymen, but by persons of wealth and iiiti-lligence
tV.im the more inhospitable climates of tlie east and
I']uro[)c, who come hither for health and pleasure an<l
happv homes. Alreadv has beiiun the New Civiliza-
tion. And when decay comes here, will the western
sunset be followed by a new sunrise in the east, or
wih the world be rejuvenated by a new cataclysm?

CHAPTER III.

ROOT DIGfJKRS AND GOLD DIGGERS.

Con Icgno li'gno npr;iiiga niai iinii t-iuao
Lortc cosi: oiid'ei, coiiiu duo liocflii,
Cozzaru insiuiiic, tiiub'ira gli viusu.

—Dvir Inferno.

One liot day in July 1848, such as tlie niiddlc prong
of tho American river has long been subject to,
perclied upon one of tlie high boulders time had
tumbled into the defile, sat a philosophic savage, his
hairless chin resting on his naked knees, his bony
hands clas])ed over his bushy head, and liis black
eyes gleaming with dim intelligence as they strained
tlieir powers to encompass the scene before him. On
either side, scattered up tho stream and down it, far
as tho eye could reach and until the stecl-and-silvcr
band was lost behind preci[)itous banks, were strange
beings engaged in a strange business.

Some were in red and black, some in white and
gray; many were almost as naked as himself, their
bare arms and le<4S whiter than the white stones over
which the waters skipped. Crawling between the
rocks, and turning up the red earth, and kneading
with their hands the nmd they made, through the
dry baked air tremulous with rarefactions, they looked
not unlike varieojated bui^s rolling: their delectable
dung-balls. Some were swinirino; over their heads
largo double-pronged clubs, and smiting the earth
therewith ; some were standing bare-legged and bare-
armed in the rushing waters, peering into them as if
to read their records or fathom the secrets of the
mountains ; son^e were on their knees in an attitude

THE MKIHTATIVE SAVAOE.

of worsliip or supplication; otlicrs lay like lizards on
ilio rocks pcckiiii,' Avith tlicir knives. Sonio with
shovels were cli,uf;j;ing in the sands and gravel, leaving
hesido tlic earth-heaps holes half filled with water.

"These must be graves," the savage thought, "]>re-
pared before the coming sacrifice." liight, my big-
li[>ped brother 1 These are graves, every one of
tlieiii, graves of sense and soul, of high hopes and
i\n\ better quality of manhood. Indeed, of all this
fine array of mind-driven mechanism, of beings that
ill tills wilderness might rise to the full .stature of
gods were they not under curse to crawl about these
(■.'inoiis seri)entinc upon their bellies; of all of thom,
I s;iy, tliere will be little left this day twelve-month
not bulled in these holes. For most of the gold the
foothills gave, brought like that of Nibelungen, noth-
iii^- l)Ut ill-luck to the possessor.

" AVliat arc tliev di^irinjj for?" the meditative
jiludigiiial asks himself. "^Ty faithful wives dig roots
and so sustain the lives of their liege lord and little
ones, as in duty they arc ever bound; but these poor
pale fools will find no nourishment beneath ti~ose
stones. I will tell them so. But sto}) 1 What is
that he holds aloft with out-stretclicd arms midst
yells and waving of his hat, the one more frantic than
the rest? JW the dried bones of my grandsire I
believe it is the heavy yellow dirt that often as a
child I gathered to see it glitter hi the sun, though
it is not half sol)eautiful for that as tlie snake's back.
Once I hannnered handfuls of it into a dish forcrusli-
ing grjisshoppcrs in, or for boiling fish, but the stcjnes
niy greasy darlings hollow out arc better for the one
jmrpose, and their baskets for the other. Besides,
^\ illows and grass arc easier worked than that heavy
stuff. So I kicked the old dish into tlie river and
was jrlad to see it sink. The younsx chief tried that
same dirt for his arrow-heads, but it was not fit ; the
^vonlen forged it into chains for ornaments, l)ut there
was nothing ornamental about them ; so after trviug

ROOT DIOOERS AND (;OLD DIOfJKRS

it for one tiling and another it was finally let ulono as
l^ood for nothiiiLj.

"J^ut heavenly spirit 1 we found that out a^^is aj^t).
It must bo that these white scranihlcrs have not been
lonjjf upon this earth to bo so taken by so poor a
glitter. INIark their posture. Even their eyes are
turned downward. Tiny eannot see the sun, wliicli
is bii-'hter than their ujold. And tlio stars are
brigliter; and the dancing water, and the purph; haze
tliat lies on misty mountains, and the awful craggincss
hereabout are a thousand times more beautiful and
grand. Can they eat this they so covet? No. It
is good for nothing or for very little f(tr which there
are not other better things. I liavc it. The stuff
melts; I saw some running down the edges of my
dish when they put the fire to it. They want it for
ima*j:es, for molten mnh, Alas I alas I that through-
out this universe intelligences yet exist possessed of
such insensate folly."

Softlv, bad-smelling barbarian! Thouuh thou art
right, it is for gods they want the stutf, and very
good gods it makes. None of your deaf and dumb
effigies, nor even invisible, impalpable s[)irits perched
on liigh 01yni])us, hell-bound, or be-hoavened beyond
space. Appeal to these golden gods and they answer
you. Invoke them and forthwith they procure you
food, obeisance, and etej-ntd life.

And yet you question, tawny friend, why this insa-
tiate human appetite for bits of yellow earth, for cold,
dead metal, and why for this more than for any other
kind of earth ? Not for its utility, sureh% j'ou argue ;
though economists say that it is an absolute ecjuivo-
lent as well as a measure of value. It is scarcely
more valuable than other metals, scarcely more valua-
ble hitrinsicallv than the least of all created things.
It is less valuable than stone, which makes the moun-
tains that rib and form the valleys, than grass which
offers food, than soil which feeds the grass. For or-
nament, if ornament be essential to human happiness,

PHILOSOPHY OF fiOLD.

slu'lls or lauro! serve as wt'll ; for plate, porcelain is
lietter. True, some little of it may he used for filling
te(«tli, l)iit tons of it mij^Hit be employed in vain to
till the stomach. Other metals are just as rare, and
hcautiful, and durable. "Then what magic power
lies wrapped within its molecules?" you seem to
sav. "Will it heal the sick or raise the dead; will it
even clothe or feed, or add one comfort to naked,
lioiiseless humanity i Hidden beneath its cold and
weiLjhtv cov(>rin!^ may we liopo to find an elixir vitse,
a fountain of youth ; or will it save a soul from hell,
(ir a bodv fi'om the |L,^rave ? Surely there must be
smie innate virtue there, some p(»wer, natural or
supernatural, that thus brings intellect and all the
high attributes and holy asi)irations of intelligent rea-
souiii"" creatures beneath its sway."

Peace, brute I Nothing of the kind. Yes and no.
Have I not told you that in the civilization which so
sago a savMge even as yourself can but faintly com-
prehend, gold is god, and a very good god? All men
worship it, and all women. It buys men and it buys
women. It buys intellect and honor; it buys beauty
and cliastity. There is nothing on earth that it will
not i>urchase, nor yet anything in heaven, or hi hell.
Lucifer lias his broker on every street corner, and
Christ his itgent in every pulpit. All cry alike for
giild ! goldl Men cannot live without it, or die with-
out it. I'liless he finds an obolus in their mouth to
i)av the fcrrian'o over the stygian stream, Charon will
not pass tlieni. You do not know Charon? "Well,
you shall know him presently. Charon is a very good
god, but not so good as goltl. Indeed, gold is Charon's
god, and every god's god, as well as every man's.
You are somewhat like Charon, oh! sooty and filthy!
Charon is he who, while with Mercury on a visit for
a day to the up[)er world to sec what life was like,
wondered how num should so wail while crossing Stvx
when there wa;^ so little on earth to lose.

No, shock-licad I gold is not wealth even, and yet

f! ;,|

88 ROOT WCUJERS AND GOLD DKUiEIlS.

men cr[xo, all their wealth for it. Money, as intrinsic
Wt^altli, has little value, and ytt wealth is valunl only
as it can he converted into money. Nor is it long
since the doctrine prevailed that money was wealth,
the only wealth; but after commerce and industry
had hegtjjed f<n" centuries, and men and nations had
fought for the enforcement of this principle, the world
awoke one day and found it fallacy ; found that money,
instead of being wealth, was oidy the attentlant on
tratKe and not actual wealth. Money is synonymous
neither with capital nor wealth. It is capital only
when it is bought and sold like any other connnodity;
it is wealth only according to its worth as a measure
of values, (lold is not value, or the representative
of value, until it is made such by the stamj) of the
imag(! and superscription. All men desire it, and in
limitless quantities; yet those who have it are anx-
ious to be rid of it, as it is the most profitless of all
thing's to hold.

Know, then, the truth of the matter, Oh I red-
painted and tattooedl Long ago, before Adam Smith
or John Stuart Mill, when those dit;<j;ers to the i^ods
down ther(^ were little less wild ami beastly than your-
self, — craving your j)ardon, — at the histigation of
Pluto, perhaps, though some hold opinion that the
creator made gold specially to be used by man as money,
it so hap[)ened that a conventionalism arose concerning
this metal. It was agreed between the fathers of the
Pharaohs and Job's ancestors, that this heavy durable
substance, chiefly because it was hard to get, should
be baptizicd into the category of wealth ; nay more,
that it should be endowed with the soul of riches, be
coined into idols, worshipful crowned pieces, and be
called money, as children in their play cut [)aper into
bits and call it money, or as certain tamed tribes have
sought to use for money merely the name, without all
this trouble and agitation about the metal, computing
value by means of the idea instead of the substance.
Since which time their descendants and ofl'shoots, that

THE MOXKY INFATUATION.

is thoso of tlio Jobs and tl»o Pliaraolis, liavo lv<'i)tui)
the jok(\ ami it aitpcars tliat we of thi.s l)(»a.stt'cl scicu-
titic and economic ninctccntli-ccntuiy civilization can
do no Ijcttor than to keep it np. It rc(|uiicH as nmcli
liil)(»r to find and dijjf a certain (jii; iitity of it as it does
t(» raise a field of j^rain, so wo swear it to be worth as
much as the <;rain. So subtle is its energy, that
ni(»uld(<l and milled into the current (ina^o of wealth,
it assumes all (lualities and virtues. Call it land, and
it is land; labor, and straightway the fields sweat with
labor. It is health and haitpiness, it is body, intellect,
snul, aye, and eternal salvation. Thrice lucky nietul
to be so humanly endowe<l, so divinely in.spired 1 Oh 1
|ti'ecious nutal, how I do lovethool Oh 1 holy metal,
liow I do worship thee 1

Tlius you see, thrice honored scalper and cannibal,
that these men tlown among the bouklers are slaves
of a slave. To serve us in our interchano-es we endow

• • • 1

with imaginative nuraculous power the yellow sub-
stance which you see them all so cafjerlv snatchinsv
fmrn the all-unconscious earth. They snatch it to
make it their slave, but being beforehand deified, as
h' allien idolators deify the little images which their
lingers have made, and their moutlis call gods, they
straightway find themselves in bondage to their ser-
vant. Sage though you are, and a most respectable
wild man, you cannot yet fairly comprehend this pe-
culiarity of civilized liberty, wherein you are permitted
to call yourself free only in so far as you are in bond-
a;4e to soinethijig. You find one wife good, but sev-
i ral wivts better; one wife finds you good, several
also. You may now marry as many wives as you
})lease; as many women as please may marry you,
))rovided you mutually agree. Doubtless you will be
sur[)ri.sed to learn that tlie libert}' of civilization per-
mits you but ont^ wife, howsoever half a dozen love
you. This is technically called giving up some portion
of your natural rights for the benefit of all ; as a matter
of fact, it is falling into the tyranny of the majority,

ROOT DIGGERS AND GOLD DIGGERS.

liowuver stiipkl or unjust tliat may ho. A<j;ain, j^ainblc
coinuiorcially, and your l>ioty is not iiniK'aolatl ; gamhle
with nionev only, and vou are an odious tliini;. You
may not marry but one wife, but you may keep as
many mistresses as you please ; you may keep them,
always in pro[)er retirement, unchidden by society,
though she whom you have enticed into such connec-
tion is forev^er anathematized bv the wliole sisterliood.
Hut as I said, you do not understand such thini^s,
and I will confess it to you, <;reasy brother, neither
do I.

Cominijj back to our gold — for liowever nmch we
may des[»iso it, we cannot do without it — we liave
seen that money is wealth only by sutferancc. jVfeu
have agreed to call gold stanjped in a certain way
money, but for all that, only in as far as it serves a
purpose, like anything useful, m so far it is wealth.
You might ask, to what good is tliis great expenditure
of time and energy, of health and life, when we con-
sider that in ])roportioii as the quantity of gold in
circulation increases, its v;duo diminishes, that the
aggregation of money is not aggregation of wealth,
and that the uses of money are not facilitated by in-
creasing the quantity i Increase the volume of money
and you increase prices; diminish the quantity in cir-
culation and prices diminish, (jlive to eyery man in
tiio world a boat-load of it, and not one of them is
the richer; take from every man living half he hath,
and not one of them is tlu; poorer. Why, then,
is th(^ result of the labors of these ditch-gods re-
garded with such concern throughout the commercial
world?

In answer to which queries, gentle sayage, I re-
spectfully refer you to the libraries. You must ask
mo easy questions respecting tlie jiresent order of
things among so-called civilized societies if you would
have answers. I cati get no answers even to many
simi)lc! questions. Some medium for exchanges, some
materialization of the spirit of commerce is certainly

COMMERCE AND CURRENCY.

1, <rainl)lc
[ ; aaiuiilc

f kuep as
■up them,
Y sock'ty,
li coiinec-
isUrliood.
'h tliiii;j;s,
iT, neither

■ much we
—we liave
ICC. ^leii
itaiii way-
it serves a
is wealth.
xjuMiditurc
an we coii-
<»f onld ill
that the
of wealth,
ited l)V ill-

of luomy
ity in eir-
ly man in
them is
he hath,
hy, then,
i-ujods re-
unmercial

a;j;o, I re-
1 must ask
Older of
you would
I to many
n*i"es, some
s certainly

convenient, as business is now done. That there is
room for imi»roveinent upon our present system I am
c(iually certain. In extensive transactions barter is a
(•umltrous [)rocess; there must be money, but is it
necessary that money should be made of metals ? Is
it necessary for a measure of values that the world
should expeiiil as much labor as for the values meas-
ured^ As it is now, the value of money depends
upon the <'ost of the metal composing it. If the metal
exists in lai'L^e <juantities and is easily gathered, the
amount produced is large, and its value correspond-
iiiL;lv 1;)W. Could a bushel of gold dust under ordi-
iiaiv cir(ninistances be jiroduced with no more labor
than a bushel of ])otat(K>s, then a bushel of jiotatoes
would be worth a bushel of gold (hist, (jiold, bi'cause
of its scarcity, and const^fjuent cost of production, its
di\ isihility, and its imperishable qualities, was tacitly
adopted ity almost all nations as money. Its very
intrinsic worthlessness adds to its imp<jrtance as a
make-helii've value, for not being used to any great
extent for other purposes, it is not subject to sudd(>n
or violent fluctuations in value. I have actually heard
men ill the ]>ulpit, who ])rofessed to be teachers of
tlieir fellow-nit^n, say that (Jod not only made gold
specially to be used as money, but tliat he kept some
of it I'.idden, and let men find it oidy as coimnerce re-
i|uiied it. This may be true in the sense that he
made deatli that the living might have standing-room
upon Iho eartli, but being too slow at his work disease
and WAV weiv si'iit to help him.

I say something of the kind, as matters are now
an'Mii4i(I, si'fiiis to be necessarv. ^'ou, vourself,
taw ny sir, have felt the need of a currency medium
ill .'our pi'tty barters. You have taken shells and
beads, an<l have called tlnMU moiuy, making tlie long-
est sin lis iiiid beads of ai'crtain colorto rejtreseiit tlic
higher values, jyt as otluu's have inv(>ste<l the yellow
metal with a greatei- purchasing ])ower than the white
or the copper-colored. Monev is a conveniiiK e, a

ROOT DiaOEIW AND fiOLD DKKJKRS.

great labor-saving iiiadiliu', and would bo worth all
it costs pnnidod sonietliiiig clioapor could not be de-
vised to take its place. It }ternuts to the fullest ex-
tent tlu' division of labor; it ameliorates the condition
of man bv bringing to his door the products of distant
nations; it facilitates industrial activities, jironiotes
national intercourse, and stimulati'S tlu; life blood of
society. But a moderate amount of gold, if gold must
b(^ had for a currency, is as valuable to commerce as
a largo amount. We may safely say that before the
dis((>\ ery of gold in California the world had sufficient.
Tlien W( i(! not the labor and lives s[)('nt here in add-
ing to the store to some extent thrown away ? Though
the discovery of precious metals has hitherto more
than kept ])ace with the reciuirements of commerce,
yet so ehistlc and ca[)acious is the maw of man that
he has been able to apj)ropriate it. The time will
coni(>, however, when the mountains will be exhausted
of their gold and silver, which likewise shall droi> out
of commorci'. California, Australia, and tlu; Ural
mountains together poured their pri'cious metals into
the world's cotl'ers, and the value of gold soon fell one
half antl more. We can wait some time yet with
what W(! have, luit where will we find other Califor-
nias, Australias, and Ural mountains when wanted^
^Fuch mor(> Mill yet bo found, but there is obviously
a limit. When the value of gold was thus so seriously
disturbed, silver was talked of as tlu^ chief monetaiy
standard. TIumi Nevada poured out her sevi'ral thou-
sand tons of silver, which became such a drug in the
market as to be bouulit Jind sold at from t)nt> to ten
])er cent discount. Hut even Comstock lodes have
bottoms, and when tlu^ end of it all comes, perliaj)S
mankind will improve its currency.

lender the jtresent infliction, and relatively in the
proportion of the aggn-gate product to the work gold
lias to accomplish, the race nmst earn its condbrts
once and more. First it must till the land so that it
will bring forth, and then luiearth the gold with which

LOGIC OF THE RIFLE.

^'orth all
i>t be de-
illost cx-
coiulitioi)
)f ilistant
])r(>iiiutes
l)l()()d of
.•old must
inu'ice as
M'toiv the
sufticient.
ro ill adil-
Thciu^h
:'rt() iii(»re
'onniiorce,
inau that
time will
exhausted
1 droj) out
th(> rial
K'tals into
:)U fell one
yet with
v C'ulifor-
i wanted i
ohviously
seriously
monetary
i'Vi\\ ihou-
iiijj; in the
me to teu
odes have
s, perhaj)S

•Iv in the

work ;j;ol<l

comforts

so that it
'ith which

to buy and sell the product. Thus is avoided bar-
ter, which is cuuibersome to eommeree and industries,
and every way undesirable. But so far ingenuity
has sought ill vain a cheaper substitute. With
changes in the national conditions, however, there
will in due time be a change here. Just as we shall
have now religions, new moralities, and new political
ordei's, so shall we have new standards of value and
new currencl'.' Meanwhile we must be thankful for
what we have, and in our j)resent imperfect state
accept it as a blessing, as an aid to civilization and
all clioating. Tiien let the diggers continue, let them
sweat ill death-distilling labor until they drop in the
graves of their own digging, so that wealth may have
its imago and commerce its superscription. ]^ut let
us not pride ourselves too much on intellcctaal supe-
riority over tlie J^haraohs' and Jobs' ancestors in this
ropict. wlierein w<' maki' so slight im[>ro\t'nH'nt.

And this, my dear root-digger, is civilization, and
religion, and all the rest. If you have acuteness of
iiit'llect, elo(pi(Mice, an<l personal magni'tism enough,
you may go out even luuh'r the shining skies of
Ani'iMca and play tlu^ prophet with the best of those
tliat gulled humanity fifty or five tht)usand years
bck. You may go to New York, to London, to
Berlin and capture your thousands. The gullibility
of mankind in its extent is a fjuestion not so nuudi of
jntelli^ence and eidightennient as of the strength of
the impostor. Some little advance out of tin- subter-
r;nie.ni darkness has been mad(! during the last two
thousand vears, but it is little comparativelv. The
worj.l still, in many resju'cts. prefei's falsi hood to
trutii, and men will believe a lie, though their rea-
son, if thev have anv. itlaiidv t(>lls them it is such.

'i»y' 1

It is not in the ]iow(M' of the h.uman mind to conceive
a creed so absurd or diabolical as not to find believers
among the most eidightened nations of the earth, and
tliat in proportion to the power with which the doc-

trii

le IS enforce

ROOT DIGGERS AND fiOLD DIG(;ER.S

Suddenly tlie sharp crack of a rifle is heard, and
tlie meditative aboriginal tumbles from his seat a
lifelfss mass into the stream. A miner's mustanijj
was inissiuij: vestcrdav; some skulkiu'^ redskin nuist
jiave stolen it.

Even the ratth^snakc will not strike until it sounds
the note of battle.

ird, and

seat a

nustatvj;

111 must

t sounds

CHAPTER IV.

OUR TREATMKNT OF THE NATIVE RACES.

Qu 'on iiic (loiinu six liy;nes t'erites do la main dc plus lioniu'te hommc, j'y

troiivi r;ii de (luoi le fairu iicudrc.

— Rkhditu.

NoTwiTHSTANDiNO tlio pretentions of Portugal and
Kiiuico, the two Americas in their final occupancy fell
largely to Spaiu and Oreat Britain. The })olicy of
tlie several nations in the disposal of their prizes was
(lin'cted not alone by tlie race characteristics of Latin
and Teuton, marked on one side by a laisser-aller dis-
|.osition, on the other by sclfi.sh enirgy, but by geo-
t-raphie conditions, which invited to one section of
North America the immigration of families for agri-
cuhiiinl colonii^s, and to otliers men wlio were ambi-
tions to reap t'ortuncs at mining, fur-hunting, and exac-
tion, with attendant instability and undefined intcn-
liitiis at permanent settlement.

The attitu(h> toward the aborigines of the quiet
and ics'.'rved settler, intent on home-building, differed
ladiially from that of the adventurer and fortune-
hunlrr aiming at speedy enrichment. The one was
piiiinjitfil to propitiatory measures by regard for his
t \|)(»s((l family and jiossessjons ; the other had noth-
ing- to lose and evervtliinLT to jjain bv vielding to the
still lampant war spirit, fresh from Mohamnu-dan
ci'usadis, and to the greed which had lured across
the seas an otherwise unwilling colonist. Hence the
loly calm of puritan advent, as contrasted with the
blood-stained invasion of the Iberian.

Hradually came a change, from the very nature of
these primnry conditions. As the settler acquired a

Essays ANi> MiscKi.LANY 6 (65)

Ill

OUR TREATMENT OF THE NATIVE RACES.

footliold and strength, the restraints of fear were cast
aside, together with solenui obhgations, while selfish
assertion assumed the reins. As the glitter of gold
began to fade, the eyes of the fortune-seeker opened
to the existence of more substantial treasures for his
gleaning, in fertile soils, existing plantations, unfolding
silver mines, and other resources, and above all in
submissive natives to develop them. The Indians ac-
quired a value; but were too plentiful to obtain duo
ap|)reciation and consequent innnunity from the ex
acting oppression of irresponsible masters. Fortunate-
ly for them both church and government learned to
better estimate their worth, and toim[)ressit upon their
graceless sons for the ])eri)etuation of their own
economic and sovereign interests.

The S[)anish government was never intentionally
unkind to the Indians, however cruel may have been
the uii])riMci[)led horde of conquerors. When the
Holy See had passed upon the quality of this new
humanity — when the pope had ])ronounced that the
dusky i'lhabitants of the New World were possessed
of souls, the (jueen of Castile declared tluiin her sub-
jects, with rights of life and protection, always pro-
viiU"d that they bowed submission to Christ and their
catholic Majesties. The pope's decision, indeed, could
scarcely have been otherwise in view of cliurcli pre-
rogatives, as these beings, whether human or not,
were destined to become important factors in New
World art'airs ; but it was a judgment less hapj)y for
the savages presently to be converted at the point of
the sword, than for the missionaries who were to gain
nmch wealth and glory thereby. The Spanish sov-
ereigns were true to their original declaration, and
did all in their power to prevent the infamies con-
stantly being perpetrated by the distant colonists in
their eagerness for slaves and results. The extermin-
ation of the Indians was etjually remote from the
minds of the colonists, averse asthevwere to work: and
their lands and mines were valueless without laborers.

^cro cast
e selfish
• of gold
r opened
s for his
[infoldinir;
ve all "m
idians ac-
l)taiu due
II the ex
ortuiiate-
L>ained to
jpon their
Lheir own

Lcntioually
have beini
^Vheu the
f this new
d that the
b possessed
n lur sub-
ways pro-
t and their
Iced, could
lurch pre-
111 or not,
rs in New
happy for
le point ot
ere to gain
Ipanish sov-
ation, and
amies con-
olonists in
cxterniin-
froin the
i\v«irk; an<l
lut laborer;^.

COMrAUATIVE CRUELTY.

A similar governniental mterfcrcnce took place in
tlie nortli, wlien tlie rivalry of unscru])ulous fur-traders
led to excesses and disregard alike for the morals of
the natives and the revi-nues »)f the crown. For the
])reservation of both, charters were issued to respon-
sible companies in French and Russian America.
These soon found it to their interest to court the
abori'dne for liis fur and his trade, as well as for the
safety of their seattered trapi>ers and peddlers. In
su[>piantiiig tlic Gaul the English adopted his ad-
mirable })olicy.

Neither of these nations cared for the native
Americans, tlieir souls or bodies; they cared far less
than the S[)aniar(ls, wlio were so widely swayed by
the church, wherein humanity found also strong
material incentive.

All were of the same stock, and clauncd alike the
higlicst morality and the ])urest religion; comparing
one with another of tlie gn^at nations of the foremost
civilization, there is little to choose between them
in ri'jjard toetiuitvand humanitv. Enujlishmen s|>eak
of tlie Spaniards and Kussians of a centuiy or two
ago as cruel, and so tluy were; but it is not possible
in the compass of crime for men to inflict U})on their
ffllow-men greater wrongs than those put by England
uixin India and China, witidn the century.

With tlie decline of pecuniary interest in the
IncUans fell also the consideration of the invaders
and the /.cal of the authorities. When the indei»end-
ence of tlie New England provinces divided Anulo-
American doimnaL'ion, the jiolicy of the two parts in
their treatment of the aborigines became as distinct
as tliat of Sjiain or Russia.

It is safe to say that nowhere in the history of
colonization were native nations worse treated than in
the United States, or better treated than in British
America. Not that the rev(dtcd cohmists were in-
herently k'ss humane than their northern brethren,
and least of all was it owing to any influence from

OUR TREATMENT OF THE NATIVE RACES.

tho motlier country. The cause lay in the fur wealth
of tlie northern section, wliicli prompted the conijuiny
representing tlie crown to comport itself with circum-
spection, wliili! southward there was less of this in-
centive to self-control, and no government to assign
the trade to responsible parties or regulate the fiercer
rivalry which ensued among a host of competitors,
heedless of tlie future or tlie consequences to others,
and bent only on quick profits.

National moralities, outside of certain bounds, arc
regulated by pecuniary interests. It so hap[)ened that
it was money in tlie pockets of the Canadians for the
savages to live, so tlu'y were ke[)t alive; it paid the
people of the United States to have them die, so
their wild men were killed. The colonists of New
England and tlieir descendants were essentially work-
ers, S(;ttlers, agriculturalists, and waut(^d the land
cleared of all cuml>rances, while the Montreal Scotcli-
inen were fur-dealers, and wished to maintain half of
North America as a game preserve, with the Indians
as their hunters. Jleiiee the ■)fficers of the great
fur companies were exei^edingly kind and circumspect,
phunng in contact with the savages only tlielr own
servants of tried integrity, who dealt with them hon-
estly, cliaritably, respecting their rights and main-
taining the peace of nations.

A Hudson's Bay Company's man was never thanked
by his superior for taking advantage of an Indian in
trade. I*romises were faithfully kei)t ; and if a white
man injured an Indian he was punished as surely if
not as severely as the Indian who injured a white
man. A whole village was not murdered for a theft
by one of its members, but only the guilty one was
made to suffer. And when the country was thrown
o[)en to settlement, the natives were n<;t left to tho
mercy of the vilest element in the commonwealth to
be robbed and insulted, but were allotted the lands
about their ancient homes, and mad(; useful and re-
spectable. Along the ever-widening border of the

THE FUR COMPANIES.

ir wealth

li circuui-
: this in-
to assij^ri
he fiercer
npctitors,
bo others,

>un(ls, are

leued tliat
lis for the
paid the
m (lie, so
i of New
ally work-
tlie land
al Scoteh-
in halt' of
\c Indians
the ijjreat
•cunispeot,
Itlieir own
hem hou-
nd niain-

^r thanked
1 Indian in
lif a whitt^
surely if
a white
|[)r a theft
(inc was
IS thrown
)ft to the
jwcalth to
Ithc lands
]l and re-

lor

of tl

irnat repuhlic, on the other liand, were free trappers,
dr>|H'ra(U»es, tiie scum of soeii'ty, tosjvtiier with un-
lictiiscd settlers, knowin.!4 n() law and havin*^ no i>ro-
teclion save of their own devising. It was aloiu' from
roidact with such an element that the savages were
foi'ced to form their opinion of white men — ai» ehnient
that kr[)i them in a state of constant exasperation.

More than was the case with tlie Si>aniards, or
Portuguese, or liussians, it was to the interest of tlie
people of the United States to rid tliemselves of their
savanes. 'riuy were in tlie way; of no use to any;
and preordained at best soon t»» die; then wiiy protect
tliein i Moreover, they killed white men, stole cattle,
and held [)oss<'ssion of land which could he put to
better use. That white men did worse by them, or
anion<^ themselves, made no dill'erence. That the
I'lnglish lord might fence out hundreds of paupers
from his tliousand-acri! ]»ark which gave him each
vear a few tlavs' sliootin<»', or a Yankee speculator
Imld rjO,000 acres for an advance in price made no
diU'erence. Englishmen and Yankees are not i)ainted
sa\ages; English It >rds are not American lords; civ-
ilization and savagisni are natural foes; the weaker
must give way, and the less said about justice and
liunianity the better. So with their accustomed en-
ergy the ])eo[)le of the Ignited States have driven
back the Indian beyond their fast exi)an<rmg border,
and with the extermination of their wild beasts ex-
tt'rniinated tluir wild men when these ventured to
protest or resist. Few now remain within tlii'ir
borders from the Atlantic to the Pacific, while ^Ic>x-
ico, Jh'itish America, and Russian Ameiiea, if it be
any satisfaction to them, may still count their hordes
of unslahi aboriginals.

Perhaps it is better so. If with our Indians we
would kill off our Africans, and Asiatics, and low
Euroi)eans, wo miglit in due time breed a race of
gods. But nmst we not first revise our ethics, and
throw out as obsolete the idea of any other right than

OUR TREATMENT OF THE NATIVE RACES.

iiiijrht, of any otlior priticiple tliuii tlio inexorable law
of progress^ Must we not root out of our rcli|^ion
every sentiment wiiieh conflicts witli culture ? We
see plainly enough that the rights of nations arc le-
speeted hy other nations in pr(»portion to the power
of a people to defeiul them. Neitlur religion nor
civilization are sufficiently advanced to rinder strict
justice to savage nations, or to any weaker power.
The immigrants from England were no exception to
this rule. Finding the savages along the eastern sea-
board too strong t(^ be at once driven back, thev ac-
knowledged their ownership to the land, but did not
hesitatt! to cheat them out of it as <H)i)ortunity offered.
And later, as the white men became stronger and the
red men weaker, while it has been partially acknowl-
edged that the latter have sonie rights, practically
})ut few have been granted them. It would have
been njore consistent on tln^ part of the government
to have ignored them entiiely or to have recognized
them fully. Savagism has no rights if it has not
equal rights with civilization.

It is revolting to our every sense of manhood, of
honor, and of justice, tlie narrative of the century-
march of Euro[)ean civilization, from east to west
across the mid-continent of North America. It were
enough, one would think, to inflict on the doomed
race the current curses of civilization, rum and divers
strange diseases, without employing steel and gun-
powder. But Jio sooner were the English plantations
on the eastern seaboard strong enouuh than the strucr-
gle began, and in one line may l)e told the story ring-
ing with its thousand imfamies to fit ten thousand
occasions. The white man, in the belief of his mental
and moral superiority, imposes upon the red man,
who, daring to defend himself, is struck to earth.
The story fits the great battles of the period no less
than the local raids brought on by an attempt of a
husband and father to protect an insulted wife or
dauirliter. or the theft of a huntrrv Indian from whose

ATTITUDE OF THE flOVFRNMENT.

■*
-'?«

lands jjjaino has bcnn driven to<^ive pusturajjfu to oattk',
tlio wiinlc iu'i^ldK>rli()()d rallyin<; in revenge and slioot-
iu'^ down indiseriminately every native man, woman
and eliild in the vicinity.

Tlie «n)vernment lias lu-en likewise at fault. Wi;
Ixliold warlike jii\d hlustiring trdx'S wrmjjf one conces-
sion after another, in reservations, provisions, annui-
tii s, and aid toward building houses, an< I obtain ready
|);inl'in after every fresh uprising or outrage. Peace-
ful and weak tril)es, on the other hand, have Ix u
ni nil ttt'd, or i»ut off with barren tracts and scanty
allowance, filtered though the fingers of dishonest
a'4i iits. Thus a premium was ever offered to disallec-
tion. Some tribes, like the Mission Indians of Cali-
fornia, liave Ikm'm surrendered to swindlers, to be driven
from thfir homes occupied for generations, and left to
starve.

Tenjporizing was in a measure enforced by the feud
l)rcd of long hostility and the exposed condition of a
vast frontier; and the mode of dealing had to con-
form to tiie character and strength of the tribe, as
practised among so-called civilized nations. Yet it
can never excuse the glaring hijustice toward well-
disposed and deserving peoples.

For tlie last half century the aim of the govern-
ment in its Indian policy has been for the most j»art
humane and lionorable, equal in its benevolent inten-
tions to S[>ain'.s, and superior to that of England;
nevei'theless, its mistakes and inconsistencies have
been lunnberless. Starting out upon a false premise,
striving at once to be powerful and pure, its pathway
has l)ri.^iled with difficulties. It made lofty distinctions
which were withoutadifferencc,acknowledi;inij: in words
from the first the lords aboriginal in possession as the
rightful owners of the soil, from whom to steal with-
out pretext of right was sinful, but who might never-
tludess be righteously robbed in a thousand ways.
Xor was it until the young republic had .secured for
it.self acreage broad enough, as it supposed, for all

OUR TriKATMENT OF THK NATIVE HACKS.

iiiiil
f'l!

i:i

pVtsont and future needs, and was <ni tlio l»i;4lirt)ad
to Wealth and fame, that tlie east Ixi^an [»rearhin<^ to
the west sueli honesty and liinnanitv on hehalf of tlio
natives as it liad not liitherto felt ahle to indulL,^!^ in
on its own account. What new n-velatioii has conu;
to the connnonwealth, that the settk'rs west of tiie
Arississijtpi jiave not the sanu; i'i;j;ht to seize tlu! lands
and kill the iidiahitants as liad the settlers east of
that line; '( Had a claust; been inserted in the consti-
tution niakinj^ the rohhery and murder of Indians
lawful, the course of all would liave Incn clear; hut
to rob and murder, or permit a straight centui'v of
such license, and that on a mighty ma^jjnificent scale,
and now hej^in to rail at similar slighter deeds en-
forced by necessity, seems absuid.

IMie condition of the philanthropists of the east, in
no fear f<»r their scalj)s, an<l in the full enjoyment of
lands stolen from the sava<'i's bv tlu'ir forefathers,
diil'crs widely from that of the settlers on the border
with dwiHings aHame anil wives and children
slaughtei'ed.

Among the more common and continued mistakes
of the government in dealing with the Indians has
been the employment as agents of men who would
buy their appointment from some political hack, de-
pending on p( (ulation or othei' rascality for a return.
(.)f all the millions of nKmcy appropriated by congress
for the benefit of the Indians, it is safe to say that
oidy a sn)all proportion has ever reached thetn. Tlu!n
there has hvvn much bad faith on the part of govern-
ment, broken promises, and unfulfilled treaties. A
savage cannot understand how a nation can deceive
without expecting to fight. Indian outbreaks have
alwavs been the result of real or fancied wromjfs,
which nine times in ten the government might have
n^medied, and thus avoided bloodshed, had it acted
through honest, competent agents, with promptness,
fairness, and firmness.

An hisurmouutable obstacle confining the action of

1{A( K l»IFI"i:UKN(iX

7»

tlic autlioritic's Ii(\s in riiri> IboliiiLj, wliirli is far iiiorr in-
ttiiHi' amoiiM' the Teutons tliuii in the Jjatin citnK'nt.
Tin' Frciiclniian and Spaniard liold thcnisclvcs altove
tlic Idwlv Indian, imt tiu-y do not spurn liini. Intcr-
niariiaj^c was unliesitatinj^ly atloptcd by tlicir younj^
nil 11, and t'avorod by tlio rii'irch an<l tliu j^ovcrninent,
as aiiitiii'4 t'lU'-tiadcrs, on tlio ground of morality and
with a \ itw to t'orni a claim upon native h)yalty. Tiie
lialt-hrced yrew to receive a sliarc in the affection so
tVtf Iv hcstowed by Spanish pari'uts. Tlius favored,
the iiiisti/.o expanded in Latin America into a powcr-
{'mI race. Suhjccted lik«' tlic creoh' to narrow-minded
oppi'cssion and disrej^ard, lie turned for syni]>athy to
till' nuitrnial side, to cherish ancient ti'adition, and to
nvivr its ^lories in the achievement of independenro.

^Vitll him th(> aborigines have been lifted to full
C(|uality before the law, althou_<j;h the spri,i;litlier mes-
tizo seeks to maintain the domination over the masses
iiilierited from the Si>aniard, politically as well as
hixiaily. ]Iis rise is most desirable, for his ])atient
and conservative traits form a lu'cdful clici k on the
cliaii'4('al)le disposition of the otlu'rs. His ca]>acity
for elevation is den-onstrati'd not alone in the fVat«rnal
iee<iMiiiti(in of his merits aiul character in the various
oliieial positions wliich lu^ shari'S with his half-breed
hictlier, but in the nund)ej' of j>rominent men con-
tiihiited by him to the circles of arts, scienc(\ and lit-
erature, as in the case of Juarez, the yreat lawL;iv( r
ami hleiator, whom unanimous gratitude has raised
tn a national hero.

So in the north also we find l)right promises, as ex-
liihited by the Cherokees, by instances of intellectual
and material advancement at different reseivations,
and by marked reformation effected by missionary
effort on the remote Alaskan l)order of British Co-
Imiibia. in creating a model community from among
I'lide fisher tribes. There is not here the same pros-
pect for advancement. howev(>r, as in Spanisfi America,
for the contemptuous race antii»athy and disdainful

!»,'■;,

Om THEATMKNT OF THE NATIVE RACES.

Ii-:;l

exclusivcness, on the part of tlio An<^lo-Saxona, liavc
2)lii('(«l a ;jjulf impassable Ix'twoi'ii tlieni and tlic Indians
and liaH'-bivcds, which loaves them strangers and out-
casts on their ancestral soil.

There can l»o no t^n-at crood, now that the Indians
are nearly all dead, in devisimj means for preserving
tlu'ir lives. At the same time the mind will some-
times rcivert to a possible condition t)f things, wherein
there were no Indian reservations to serve as pi'isons
for free men, and hot-beds of political itrKpiity; wlnnin
the survivors of a nation had I'ach bi-en securi'd in the
possession of land sufHcient for his easy niaintinancc
on the spot wlu^re had lived his ancestors, officers be-
ing appointed for tln'ir further protection under the
severest ju-naltics for misconduct ; wherein there were
strict regulations res[tecting settlers on the Ixtrder,
their occu[»ati«)n of lands, and intercourse with the
natives; wherein, if voting in this republic nmst be
promiscuous, Africans and low ]Our<»[)eans being in-
vited to become our peers, tlu^ privilege was not de-
nied the Indians, whose soil we have seized and whose
nationalities %ve have obliterated.

I \

CHAPTER V.

mSTOKV \\KlTI\(r.

Ifi- aliiii!' ri-.hU liistory urij.'lit, mIih, oltservinjj Imw jioworfully oirc.in-
>taini-i iiilliuiicf till' 1 ilmj;s ami (i)i(iii.iiis i.f man, how otli'fi vicus jmss into
\ irtuc -i.iinl ]i;u'.iili)Xi'siiiti>a\iiiiii.-<, li .iiiih tii ilistiii^.'iii-^li \\ liat i^iaccidi'iital ami
tiMii>iti'i'v ill liuiiian nature from \vliat is cssfiiiial ami imiiiiital<li'.

— Miiciinldy.

As th

ulil makos liistorv, iiu'ii are found to re-

I'lid it; liist on tin- tal)ltt of inciUDry, to Ik- in lilco
iii;iinirr n 'inscribed Ity succcssivo gi'iK-rations, illunii-
ii,il( (1 with tlic L^low of family stride, of ti'ihal syui|)a-
I'.nliy, tit' patriotic devotion. In tlio course of tliis
tr.iiismisslon occur further modifications under in-
tlui iiccs multifarious, colored by tlu' vagaries of fancy,
iln-rstition, or i-motion, ^)tliers warjjcd by tlefectivo

•ted 1

ivtciidiin or ol)scuro Judgment : others pervei
please the varyinuj audiences, of elders or y«)Uth, of
ti lends or sti'an''ers, or to add brilliancy to the rhet-
tuie of the narrator.

T!ie distortion hero is no worst; than ni the Jiost of
wrilteii chronicles, additionallv iniiuenced bv fanati-
ri>m and |)n'judicc, iL!jnora'ic(\ and lack of relleetion.
ill the latter, however, the (tutlines are shaiply cut
ill prose and witli unalterable ri^'idity ; in the foiiiu r
they fade and interininLi^lc with the metric current
\\liieh bor(> the tales of illiterate ancestors. A j'oetic
iiiiauination lifts incidents into the sphere of miracu-
lous (»r supernatural ]>henonu'na, and the fiDjiU'c rises
iVom the sage patriarch or valiant chieftain to a hero
oi' a divinity, euphemistically transformed. Distance
wraps around all its nivstifving veil ; a^re invests false-
IkmhI with sanctity.

•V step l)ack and hl.^tory fadc>s. As th(> vila of

( "O

HIS'lOllY WRITINT,.

tiino lonufthoiis and tlie jKist ivcodos, a mist doses in
beliiiKJ us and oven recorded tacts <j;ro\v dim. Poets
themselves, as milestones in tlie Idiiiiwav of history—

' '•mi.'

Chaucer, as disjtiaying ImioHsIi chaiactcr at the close
of the fifteenth centuiy ; Shidicsjd'arc, as opening a
new eia in the; develojunent of thought; and ShelK-y,
as heialding the a[i[)r()ach of modern skepticism- arc
doomed in time to become obsolete, and crund)le.
With the fruits of their lives in never-dying fi'jiui-jmco
still bi'fore us, some affect to believe the man Ih-nier
a myth ; some regard Sh.akt'sjxare as a mask. ilut
where is the diU'erence, if, contrary to our teachings,
the blind minstrel or the ilivin(> di'amatist never had
authentic reality.'' Their works, tlu; testimony of
earnest lives and matchless intellects, are with us, and
for these their authors, wliosoever they are, shall be
to us as Homer and Shakespeare.

rom liallowec

1 ant

Kiintv emerucs mv

:thol

o*rv to en-

fold the cradle of most nations, and to be in time set
forth in ri'cords like tin; Jewish sci'i[)tures, the ]lin<loo
Veda, the Popol Vuh of the Quiches, r(!garded by

tlieir several peoples as sac re*

d, ami

su[>|)ltnnented by

heroic ballads, whicli often contain the beginnings of
national history. Even science had its occult period,
as in the astrology of astronomy and tlu^ alchemy of
clunnistry. AH the uid<nown was the doings of the
id while imagination thus tvraimi/ed oNcr

U'ocis :

rt'asoii, a

II hist()rical records wei'e deeme<l d

th it>

ivme

len arose skepticism witli its (piestionmgs, aiu

the human began t() mix with the spiritual. The
history of one age became tlu; romanci! of the next.
Until a comparatively late period, patristic writings
were regarded by Christians as but little h'ss worthy
of belief than the holy scri[)tures. Now, history, in
common with the vital forces of the ag(>, has become
bumani/ed, materialized. No longer are mainsjtrings
of thought and action sought amidst the unknowable,
(^hivaliy, kingcraft, and military Christianity have
had their dav, and mankind is now less ruled bv the

SUriTiSTIiION AND UKALITY.

['loses in
Poets
istory —
,lic close
)cirm<^ a
Shelley,
sin- are
cruniMe.
Va'j,i'aiu*o
1 11 oilier
4. But
•acliiii!L''s,
cvir had
iiioiiy of
h us, and
shall bo

)o;v to eii-
i time set
le Hinth)o

rded hy
nted hy
1 linos of
t ptriod,
leinv ol"
sot" the
zed oVir

vine.
ii-j,s, and
al. The
the lu'xt.
writinj^s
^s worthy
istory, in
s heeonu'
ius|»riii;j;s

>no\va

iitv
d'hv

liave

erclesiastioal spirit or hy the sentiment of loyalty.
Suiritual jxiwer and temporal })o\ver are divorced;
,tiid iiistt-ad of crusading kiiiglits, in((uisitious, and an
iiitalliWle papacy, we have constitutional government
and a fnc press. Thouglit is emanci[)ated, and mind
hanii'ssi's till' forces of nature.

\\ • ait' liccniniiig iiior(! and more satisfied to bo
'.niidt il I'V t!ic hglit of our reason, which, liowsomer
dim and tlieiveiiiig, distinguishes us from brute beasts,
and >er\es ti> reveal the will-o'-the-wisps which have
si> leiij- misled us, dispelling the veneration which
ujice attended all that was printed, almost all that was
written, and much of what was said, jtarticularly if
spuken fi'niii tli(^ pulpit or forinn. 'i'hero was some-
tiling iii\steiious and almost sacred in books, and in
the wmds tif those who had long and dili<j,entlv
seai( lied tliem. The unthinking millions were ever
i'ead\ t' .i.dit philosopher and sage, priest and ])ro-
t'essnr, V it') knowledgt^ and powi'rs illimitable. 'I'ho
eailie>t hook of the nation was above all held sacred,
as soiiietliing emanating fi'oni divinity, by virtue of its
uinarildy and umiatural incidents. Ihit the older
the wnild grows, the clearer becomes its disci'imina-
ti'Mi In hist'ti'ic Judgment. In this it is aided also by
the uiiehscured records of many a modern nation from
Its pelit ieal inception.

Ill out' presi'iit n searches we have recourse to lenses
as well as new lights. The cumulative knowledge of
pn-*t gcnei'afions is becoming moi'e aeeessible and con-
eeni rated, and seieiiee '>'ives dailv fresh tiinoiics to
ni.;a'iieand inorganic substance. The noi'mal unfold-
ing of natui'e is demonstrated, togetlu-r with depeiid-
Mi'4 events; tlm hieroglyphics of the past assunii' an
' \ei liii;4litening outline, and tlu> elements of truth
distill from the ambiguous and absurd in the national
1 looks. As history emergens from this .shadowy Ixirder-
l:md. the mythologv and dim beginning of national
refolds proceeding from the sacred to the profane, it

HTSTOKY wmrryo.

Iiii|r

■' ■!:

'\-m

loses somcwliat of its diccptioii unci unccrtahity, until
trutli trinni[)liant rises superior to all tradition.

Similarly graded was the de\rl(i})iiient from original
reflective and ])liilos<»{)liie history. In regard to the
latter, it is better that history should be pure, unadul-
terated by any ])hilosophy, than to be burdened by it.
It is Will for the historian ever to liave in mind causes
and principles; otluTwise, indeed, he would 1)C only a
chioiui'ler or ainialist. ]^ut ho need not parade his
doctrines unduly. No two writers or readers, if they
think at all, will agree exactlv touching the t)ri^in of
human all'airs and the nature* of human progress; it
is not neces.sary that tlu-y should. The greater the
pri'tensi(»n to insight into these enigmas, the greater
the confusion. Let us have our tfu ts, so far as <()n-
sisti nt with riiasonable and critical nai ration. })ure and
sinqtle, jirescnted clearly, in natural order and logi( al
se(|Uence; and c'acli of us, if so disposed, can weave
from them any additional webof philosojthy. Strained
elforis ill this direction are as uii]>ro(itab]e and unpleas-

ant as jireconceived recoi^mtioii or special ]>rovidenco
or miraculous inti'r[)osition. It is enough to discern
wise provisions and fundauu-ntal rules, or proclaim a
seemingly overruling intelligence in all that relates to
man and nature, without appeiuHng on the one side
evident or M-mot(' e\[)lana<ions, or attempting on the
other to trac(^ i\\v, tingi'r of CJod in the all'airs of men
to such an extent as to make the Ahnighfy the druc'ge
and scavenger of the universe, subjict to the beck and
call of every atom in his Breotii- handiwork.

In mixing ioofreelyphilosopli\ with history, homely
facts are liable to bccomo distortetl or subveiiid. In
truth, philosophizing )>roduces too oftiMi only a phan-

t<»ni to wiiicli facts will not clii

1!I.

Whih

pret

endnuj

to gr(>at thii\gs, to primary and universal lnv( sti

i>:

tioii, to tl

\e svi

Ith

esis ami analvsis ol a

knowledo'c

the explanation of fundamenlal causes and the de-
t«'rminin<r of infinite efVeets, it soars awav from real
knowled'_ro to deal with its shad(>\v. With !Moutaii'ne,

IIKFOIIMATION IN NMIIIATIOX.

7'.»

If oiu; SK.U'

l)rt,-tt'n(lin»j;

]^r. Sainto-Bcuvo loved "only tlio simple ingenuous
histoiiiuis who recounted farts without ehoiec or
sil-'ction in g<iod faith;" i)ut that is another e^ctrenie
to which few will subscribe.

But a little while ai^o it was assumed that a nation
wliich li;i(l !i'»t waded through centuries of blood had
ii,ii haidiis ati'<wities are less congenial— I will not
savlfss pr(»litabK^ — than to the ruder tastes of 1 lomer's
]isiiii« IS or to the lover of King Arthur romances.
Xanativrs of sieges and battles, of the discijdinc an<l
111 .\iuirnt of armies, and of international diplonuncies ;
l>i.iMi;ij)iii(> of ministers and generals, and tlie idiosyn-
ciacics of great men; [)ietures of court intrigues,
.laiiit\- morsels of court scandals, recitations of the
sixiii^s of imiteeilo monarchs, ant'cdotes of j)rinces,
tlie o|iinions of counsellors, or i\iv. tortuous ways of
|ii'iiti( a! factions — these arc not all of history.

WHiat (\irlyle wanted to see was "init rcMbl>ook
h >ts. and court calenrhus. ar<( parlianuMitai-y registers,
hiii the lite of man ill I'^ngland . wi.at men did, thought,
sutl' red, (Mijoyed; the form, espt'cially the s]iirit, of
t!i 'ir tm-estrial existence, its outward environment,
it-; inward ]>rinciple ; how and what it was; wiieiu'e
it |iro."e(>(K'd, wliither it was tending."

l>eginn!ng with Moses or Ifomer and tracing the
ivcor.U of tlie race to tlie present time, if we take
out the accounts of human butchei'ies, of lying and
over reaching of statesmen and rulers, and of the
;-;.iurces of lamentation, there is little left. Crushing
is the curse of ignorance and Injustice I llow blotted
an' the |)ag(>s of historv with the cruelties of tvrants,
the eoiruptions of couits, the wanton wickedness of
lawmakers and governors I What wond(>r tliat tlu;
]»'ior steal, and bloated si-nsualists ravidi I (Jibbon
• oiisiders history indt-i'd little more than the registi-r
ef the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.

80 IIISTOUY WniTIXr,.

History's talc as givfii is l>y fnr too woeful. It tells
not tli(> wliolo truth. It holds uj) to us chicliy the
ilolorous side of iiuuianity, witli the wounds, conHicts,
and stains of ci-iiiic, — tht; hateful, hloody side.

Now, to eveiy liumaii soul, and to evi'ry a;jji>;re<jja-
tion of soids, there is a bri^lit side, tionendly tlie un-
written side of history. JV'tween the hlaek jferiods
of passion Jut! long eras of peace and prosju-rity,
as fully entitled to their place in history as the
other.

A still greater omission lies in t'o failure to <hdy
observe the mighty cuiient of hisi, ;y in the i)eople,
to (hiatc only or chiefly U[>on ed(Hes, stn-aks, and
HotsMin. in slirrinjjj incidents and striking figures.
Xo intelligent reader of the pi'esmt day will for a
inonient (jUtstion tJie n-lative value of a kiutwledge
of the origin anil stiucture of social institutions as
eon>pared with a knowledgeof kings, dynasties, gent-al-
ogies, and political intrigues. Formerly the j'cojile
seemed to he kej)t alive in order that the government
nnght h\(', hut as the pe»»ple hecome sti'ong the gov-
'.■j'nnieiit recedes to a subordinate,' jiosition.

We are t(>ld that history is but the essence of in-
numerable biograj)hies. K( s(»lving then this essence,
wo, tind c],itrhn\vd how this prince was t'levated and
dejx>s'd. how that sycophant intrigued; we ai'c noti-

fied

it'/Ni

»w

certain nobU s <|uaireled, In

ministers were n.ade and unmade — as if the universe
revolved round these pool' worms, and tho fati' of

lumanity Jnmg upon tln'ir lij)s. Descenc

dimi t

o nimor

greatness, we tind recorded the nx-chanical inge;iuity
of an inventor, the skill oi' magnanimity of a [)orui-

cian or a tradesman ; but of the men, moral or

hes

tial,

we learn n

ttli

Success we can but worship, weal

ci'iatures that we are, and success demands a |ila(

lellu'r it comes from proj)agandism or piekle-making.

it will have a niche in the ]»antheon, ]-)Ut this is not
enough ; th<^ new immortal nuist be bleached or black-
ened to harmonize with the surroundings ; he

RULEUS AXD IT.OPLE.

It -1 Hit Kill*;,

mu.-^t 1)0 elevated and rendered eonspieuous, as angel
(,r utvil,ul)()ve the crowd whence lie issued.

h\ lii-tnry the people have been rej)resented far

t>>() much \)y their chiefs. Tlio movers of the woild

iuv I'.iiuikind, not the l<>aders. Statesmen are un-

ddulitedly the authors of niany evils and sonic few

hciietits to man. Yet we exaj^gerat*; wlieu fi'om the

prow of tlie ship of state we sei; the threatening

lir.ak'i-, and fancy that, hut for the helming of great

iiit'ii. we slinuM 1)(! dashed to pieces. From the cause

of had leadership alone is seldom, at this day, a

jKitiou wrecked. The people are the nation; and to

tl.i if ignorance or weakness, poverty or coMaidice, we

must, Ixiik for the origin of all the greater evils that

hdhll them.

T!ie time was when Pharaoh.s and Alexanders, or
]:)tt( il\ a XiiTioleon, seemed to swav the destinies of
thtir own and adjacent nations, i);irtlv hv inherited
CMiitio] over a sui)jected peo))le, partly through ascen-
(iciK V 'j,.rmed 1)V prowess and intellect. The acts <jf
such a wielder of power are undoubtedly all inipor-
t:iiit. and his l>iography becomes largely the liistory
nf till' nation. Xeverthele.^s, M'e must look deeper,
and not he blinded by superficial glitter. We must
Indk for bases and causes, not alone for appearances
and clVects.

Tlio great men of history, or those who |>lay prom-
imiit jtarts on the world's stage, are in the main the'
result of accident or a combination of ciicumstances,
bein-- made by fortune rather than making it. The
evoiufioii of a king varies little in form or principle
linm the' unfolding of anv other object in nature oi" in
man, with the ditlerencti that fitness as the i Iriiieiit
<it' sur\isal seems to have little to do with it. ^'ligi-
II il!\ . as subordinate leaders, they possessed the merit
of piiiwt.-s, or as representatives in whom centered
ill'' inti rt >ts of castes and guilds and tribes, ludd in
i'|uihoriuiii l>y dij)lomatic jiaiousy antl distrust; but
olhrtwis.,' there was usually no merit whatever.

1 ^SA^!, ASi> .^ll^^^:I. I.A.N ■• ti

IIISTOIIY WRITING.

In followiniv the career of an Alexander, tlio causes
()f success must l)c souj^lit not in liis leijjislative acts
and military feats, in liis public conduct or private
life, but in the character and habits of the ptjoples
which achieved his conquests or submitted to his sway.
W(! must <j[o back and trace; the influence of the sur-
rouiidini^ circumstances, and watch the ri})enin_L5 in-
cidents which enable one man to step to the front,
and seemingly u,uide the current of national jjcrform-
ance into a new chamiel. It re(iuired the lonL'' fer-
mentations of many ingredients to start tlie Aryans
on the great westward march which still pursues its
civilizing course. In tracing it, we direct our glance
no longer at the leaders, but at tiie moving mass, and
at the numerous evidences of its halt, now in tin' fertile
valley of the Eu})hr.')tes, now on the stei'ile shores of
Potenicia, in the semi-tropic climate of Greece, and in
the diversified valleys of America.

Alexander's father introduced a primary element
of success in the military system, long matured in the
classic peninsula, and which inspired the JNIaeedonians
with irresistible confidence as well as military ardor.
It was the spirit of Epaminoudas, to a certain extent,
whicli guided them to victory. Then we nmst take
into consideration the influence of (h'eek thought in
other directions n[)()n the leading class(>s, and of Aris-
totle's teachings upon the young general, until finally
we approximate the cause which started the invasion,
roused the flame of discord among the nations
throughout south-western Asia, and shaped the policy
which assured the coiujuest. TIk; comparative insig-
nificance of the head is illustrated by the parting
asunder of the fabric at his death for the benefit of
liis generals, upheld by the favor and desire of the
subordinate oflicers and soldiers.

In Na[)oleon we behold the personitlcation of a new
military metlxKl, which found success among old-fash-
ionetl and rutty systems, and of the consequent inspir-
ation which drove the nation onward to iilorious deeds.

MODERN ERA.

In tlie reaction, it was national sympathy and love of
in<lc[)('n(l('n('0, ratlier tliaii the direction of kinujs, which
hmkc the clialiis, while national inti'j^'iity ki4)t the
alHed powers from oxiictinijj terms too severe.

The material and intellectual a<lvancement of nations
camiot he wholly arrested by the vajj^ariea of rulcr.s,
wlio, autocratic as they may he, are hound and guided
l)V citmmoii interests with tlieir peoj)lo, altiioUL,ii
prompted hy andiition and vanity to se<'ure more than
a due sliare for themselves. The statecraft widch so
Inii'j- deluded tho ma.sses for the l)en(^fit of a self-assert-
intr few avails no longer. Democracy has had itsohbs
and tides, hut siiici> tho middle ages its progress has
lirrii more steady. "^Fho practical discuveries and in-
vhich form the essentials of civilization arc

VllltlOl

the jivers of its own making, whereby it is uplifted.

Note' also tho etfect of tlic three iri'cat inventions
npfHi this modern era, the com])ass, pi-inting ])ress,
and gun|i()W(ler; tho first opening the hitherto locked
oceans and western continents to enterprise and emi-
gration, offering an asylum for the oppressed and a
iinrsory for ft\ loni ; tho second opening the portals of
knowledge to benighted masses, |)resenting to them
means and guidance for self-reliant acfpiisition of
itower; tho third, by revolutionizing warfai'e, dealing
I lie death blow to feudal tyranny, and reducinjj: the
ascendancy of knights and nobles.

The succc^ss of democratic rul<> in America has ex-
erted a powerful iidhienc(> upon l^uro[)e. Autoci'acy
has had to yield to I'ejtresentative government. Ru-
leis are obliged more and more to conform to their
duty as executives of ])o])ular will, and 1o study the
re(|uii'cments of the masses, in order to sustain tliem-
seKis. Suhordinate heads have in similai- maimer to
cnuit their ros[)ectivo constituents or a])parent de-
f ikI rs. and to figure as representatives anil mouth-
})ie('es ratlier than masters.

10 comfort of the jicoplo and th(^ growth of intel-

ligence, the I'onesis of laws and institutions, are of as

■f'iip

I,!!

M iiisTuuv \vi:rn?;(;.

vitnl import.'itifo iti our study of social nnat<nny, and
ill the (Icductioii «»t' |)iiii(i[tlcs as tlu; jujj^i^lcric.s of jio-
liticid tricksters. To ii^iioru tlio cxistfiice of tlir iiia-
toiiid conniMsiiig tlio ii;itinii in writiiiij; its liistorv, is to
norsist in tliu retention of tlie ])arbarie in historic
litoraturo.

The al)S(Mire of allusions to tlu; niass(>s in the IIo-
iiu-ric; poetns, and in the Artliurinii and ( 'ai'jovinj^ian
tales, is f-trikin;^. Yet wliat niiiistrid couhl coiKh'Scend
to ctlehrate in soii'j; tlie ii\'es and thoughts of hase-
honi dru«h'( s, wlien the •'•enei-al was considered every-
tliinsj^, the soldier nothinu^, th(! lord more than man,
the laborer less than brute. How d(»th the halo of
<livin»! kinn'shii) blind the? eyes of men I Lamartine
saw in tioutv ohl Louis XA'III. a inaidv li'_'"uie, an
honored jiero, clothed in nutdest wisdom ; eyes like
htju'^i l<i:iill, without anucr, without timidity, reflected
the ancestral nobility as in a mirror I

Not that rulers are to be ii^nored in history. Tho
• rood ruler influences the interests of society as tho
mountains ;j,ive direction to wind an<l rain. \ c;t in
scientific history, forms iuid dij^iiities must give place
to human nature, mrn-killers and })olitical thimbh-
litrgcrs to iron-smiths iind wool-weavers. KiuLTS and
courts will never again tlgurc in hlstoiy as hitheito,
for as their hold on us in real life lessens, so docs
their hold in tradition, leather throw I'aidcand caste,
with patriotic egoism and fanatical creeds, to tlu; wind,
and rest our philosophy on the broad [jrinciples of
nature and humanity.

(Jive rulers, generals, and groat men their place in
hist«try — in tin; backgi-ound. These are the creatures,
not tho ci'eators of civilization. Marshal to the
front goneralizablt! facts, from which [trinciples imi)or-
tant to th(^ w<'lfare of the people may be deduced.
Jjet u.s sec how nations originate, organize, and unfold ;
lt>t, us Gxamiiu> the structure and operations of govern-
ments, their polities, strength, tyrannies, and corru[>-
tions; with civil government kt us parallel ecclesias-

MK\ ANP XATTONS.

i'lccd ;^)vrniiniiit, with its jKJVVer.s, rro(Ml(4, rcrcinoniMls,
jiiiil suptTstitioiiH ; (loiiifstic customs, sex iiinl family
rclaiioiisliips. the; jtllinitits and aiita'^oiiisms ot" (■la^s.
occiiuatioii, and cvc rv s[)i'ci('S of snrial |»licm»mi na
down to llic ii|t|t!irfntly most insi;4'nilicant llalli^s, an-
NVfM'tli our anMitjoii; laKor, industries, tin; croiion.'y
of wealth, till' alls, the condition and advaiiccmrnt of
thf intcllict. a-sthc'tic culture, morals, and evn-ythini!;
aiinei'taiiiin'^' to the individual as well us to tiie hody
social slioiild ho critically considered; in short, the
|)i'o<^res-( of man's domination oviT nature. Costumes
as Will as customs sliould he i<'|iro<luced, for dress, no
less than style, is the man, and the man is t!;e na-
tion. A half-century a'U) poets, painters, novelists,
neitlii-r knew nor can.'d to know the co.stunies of the
seveial nations and epoclis of historv which thev at-
tempted to |iictur(>, so that tlie t^rossest anachroidsms
were perpetrated. And this was only one phase of
the disregard for knowledijje then prevalent. The
aiialvsis of historv should l>e made inverselv from the
eoiiei-etf! to the ahstract, from tlio ]iom()L;;em'ous to
the lieteidi^'eneous and complex. After «'xaminin'4
the facts, we may i)r{)cced inductivi-lv to ^ener-
alizations.

History, lieaven-l)orn, descends to earth ; from the
ahstract to the concrete : from tlie getieral and re-
mote to the ])articuhir and proximate; from the do-
iiiL^s of demi-n'ods, lieroes, and kitiLifs, it comes to the
d"in'j;s of huml)l(>r men. Min'hty in itsori^'inal asjiira-
tioHs, historv hridifcd the chasm between lieaven and
earth; then dro])})in;jf (h)wn tlirou<»]i all the modifica-
tions of tlie siMni-supernatural, throuL;h all the [>hases
of divine and mortal rule, it finally rests upon tlie
shoukh'is of the conunon herd, which finally raises its
i-Vi'^ dimly conscious of its destin}^

The history of the United States illustrates in ])ar-
tieulartho unfoldin;^' of thisdestiny, pre.sentini^a lesson
to the world of practical enerufv and ahle and ])i-osj)( r-
otis si'lf-j^'overniui-nt. We are not as yet pr(>[>ared to

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HISTORY WRITING.

determine the exact relative importance to mankind
of the histories of the difterent nations of the earth.
It may seem to us now, that Greece, and Rome, and
England have exercised a broader and deeper influ-
ence upon the destinies of man than ever will Oregon,
California, or Mexico ; but we cannot tell. The civ-
ilizations of antiquity flourished while yet the world
was small, and thought circumscribed ; when the Pa-
cific slope shall have had centuries of national life,
her annals may tell of more benefits to the race than
those of Egypt can now boast.

In order to better understand and bring forward
with proper spirit the current and flotsam of history,
the laws of nature and humanity should be kept in
mind, and all those natural and supernatural forces
of which w^c know so little and feel so strongly ; for
these, to the historian, are as the world's wind and
wat(>r currents to the meteorologist, or as the effects
of heat and i'.itermixtures to the chemist ; else there
is no accounting for the insane wranglings, the battles
and butcheries over nothings, the sacrifice of millions
upon tlie altar of an inane idef. They proffer clues to
the modifications to w^hich changeable man is con-
stantly subjected by his surroundings, and to the ac-
tion and reaction of individuals and institutions on
each other.

So intertwined and subtle are the relations of man
and nature that knowledge of mankind constitutes the
sum of all knowledge. Physical nature marks out a
path to human nature, and human nature in turn be-
comes the key to physical nature ; as in the motions
of matter so in the emotions of mind, whether evolved
or artificialh^ created, human passions and proclivities
act and react on cacli other, are measured relatively
not absolutely, and balanced one by another. Hence
it is that change in one place involves change in an-
other, and any deviation from the general plan would
result in a totally different order of things.

THINGS EASILY FOROOTTEN.

) mankind
the earth,
ilouic, and
eper uitlu-
ill Oregon,
The civ-
the world
en the Pa-
tional hfc,
3 race than

ig forward
of history,
[ be kept in
ural forces
rcnigly ; for
8 wind and
s the effects
; else there
, the battles
of millions
ff or clues to
ion is con-
1 to the ac-
itutions on

[ma of man
Istitutes the
Inarks out a

in turn be-
[he motions
Iher evolved
1 proclivities
relatively
Icr. Hence
lange in an-

1 plan would

■^^

We nmst remember that individuals, institutions,
ami societies are developed, not self-created; and thatin
this evolution evil instruments are employed in com-
mon with good ; that the virtue of one age is the vice
of another, and the beauty of one age the deformity
of aiiotlicr. We do not realize how infinitesimal
arc our origiuatings, how infinite the powers that
mould us; we do not consider that in the ideal, as in
the material world, there is no escape from external
iiitluences, that society fastens upon every member
jaws as iuticxible as the laws of nature, and that
wc rest under dire necessity. We may imagine our-
selves free when in truth we are bound to the strict-
est servitude. Statutory laws, with their limited re-
straint, may be evaded, but disobedience to the laws
of nature is promptly punished by nature herself.
Divine law comprehends all law, but divhie punish-
ment is remote and undefined. The laws of society
liowever, are more domineering than all other laws
coiiiliined, and, althougli punishing with but a frown,
till y are more dreaded than either the laws of nations
or tlio laws of nature

We forget, moreover, that civilization, this evolu-
tion of the mechanical from the mechanical, and of the
mental from the mental, with all its attendant moral-
ities, p(>]ities,and religions, is not a human invention;
tliat great ideas, great consequences are born of time,
not orighiated by man nor self-imposed; that indi-
viduals owe their intelliuence and their ignorance to
the age and society in which by their destiny they
arc projected, and that society nmst first make a place
for the great man before it can produce one ; nay,
more, that man with his mighty intellect originates
nothing, not even one poor thought, for trains of
tl'.ought inevitably follow trains of circumstances, and
every tliought is but one in a seciuence of tliought,
dt'])endent upon its correlative, the seed of its pi'ogen-
itor, the germ of its successor, and that man can no
mer-u originate or exterminate tliought than he

jfl

HISTORY WRITING.

can originate or exterminate a solar system, so tliat
our ideas are ever coming and gomg, antl, whether
we will or not, gathering color and volume from every
fresli experience — I say we forget all this and a thous-
and other things of like hnport, when we so sagely
sit in judgment on our fellows.

Some intimation humanity has of its elevation from
tlie earthy hy this subtle power, for in the naming of
itself, in speaking the word "man" it says "thinker,"
such beinyj the siijnification. Man, thinker, and not
alone brute, not stolid senseless brain and nmscle only,
but thinker. So if we would be men and not ani-
mals only we must think, and the more we think the
less brutish we will be. Herein is a world of philos-
ophy, and moreover nmch strength, for thought breeds
knowledge, and knowledge is strength.

Innumerable varieties of thought arc generated by
innumerable varieties of circumstance, as plants are
generated by soil and climate. Men, in so far as they
think at all, think differently ; few are wholly wrong.
Judgment is always perverted by our teachings, which
consist largely of fallacies.

In our estimations of human nature the great fault
lies in our restricted vision, and in the narrow-minded
and one-sided views of life which are taken even by
the profoundest scholars in every branch of learning.
By some, humanity is studied as an art; by others, as
a science. Some consider proximate causes only, en-
dow mankind with absolute volition, make the indi-
vidual the arbiter of his fate, governing, yet in some
measure being governed by his surroundings; for-
tuitous circumstances are referred to divine interposi-
tions, unexplainable phenomena are thrown back upon
the supernatural, and the supernatural in return ex-
plains all mysteries. Herein life is an art. Others
raise their eyes to causations more remote ; they be-
liold the broad eternal stream of progress from afar,
human rivers flowing on solemnly, resistlessly, in
channels predetermined, They see in the civiliza-

STUDY OF HUMANITY

tions cf nations, in the evolutions of successive socie-
ties, an orderly march, uniform in impulse, under the
direction of supreme intelligence, and regulated by
piiniordial laws. They see the tide of human atfairs
fl)l)iiig and liowing, now sinking into the depths of
tlie material, now rising to the confines of the spiritual,
but ever firmly bound by omnipotence. From tlie
assoriation of human intellects they perceive engen-
dering progressional phenomena, under an hifiuence
vivifving as the sun and pal})able as the air we
breathe; a living principle, like conditions ever pro-
ducing like results. Circumstances apparently for-
tuitous tliey refer to the same natural laws that
govern tlie knowable, and the genesis of progress
tlicy hold to be one with the genesis of man. This
view raises the study of humanity into a science ;
and thus is human life pictured on opposite sides of
the sliield, and discussed by minds practical on the
one; hand and by minds speculative on the other.
True pliilosophy, however, grasps at entireties; man
is made U[) of many elements, of endless imimlses as
well as fixed principles ; take away })arts of his nature
and lie becomes denaturalized, becomes either more or
less than man.

Every philosophic writer of history has his own
ideas of primal causes and underlying principles reg-
ulating society and progress. Thus Buckle makes
natural j)hcnomena and a priori necessity the basis of
his |)liilosophy of history ; Draper rears his structure
on the physiological idea; Froude sees in the ambi-
tions and passions of men the domineering elements
of social energetics, while Goldwin Smith believes in
tlie direct interposition of the creator in the affairs of
mvn. Very different were the old-time explanations
of social ]>lienomena from these latter-day explain<>rs.
]\[an(l((ville went so far as to make moral virtue spring
from the cunning of rulers, who the better to govern
tlu^r subjects persuaded them to restraiji their pas-
sions and achieve the good — so low were the estimates

HISTORY WRITING.

placed by the teachers of mankind upon the over-
ruhiig of social afliiirs.

All seem to agree that an unseen mj^sterious force
has some direction of human affairs, and rules them
by intelligent laws for man's advancement. It
matters little for the purposes of history what this
subtle force is called, whether free-will, necessity,
progress, or providence. Says Jean Paul Richter,
"Nature forces on our heart a creator; liistory a
providence." The religionist sees in history God's
l)lan concerning mankind, and the records of our
race are to him but sequent supernatural interferences.
The scientist sees va\ unfolding, and in studying causa-
tions discovers laws. But whether these laws are
called God's or nature's they are the same in origin
and in operation. This much, liowever, I think may
safely be said : No one seeks truth with keener zest
or with higher aspirations toward that which is beau-
tiful and go(/d than the skeptic. He alone who rests
satisfied in the stolid ignorance of an old and trodden
path prefers falsehood.

The historian of "innumerable biographies," with
mind of breadth and depth sufficient to take in at one
view the whole of this vast theme, has yet to come
forward. Greatness in great thiuq;s is seldom found
united to greatness in little things; individual action
so ill accords with pliilosophic speculation, that it is
with extreme difficulty the practical mind is drawn
from innnediate practical results, or the speculative
mind can be brought down to the careful considera-
tion of the proximate. "To realize with any adequacy
the force of a passion we have never experienced," re-
marks Ijccky, " to conceive a type of character radi-
cally different from our own, above all, to form any
just a])preciation of the lawlessness and obtuseness of
moral temperament, inevitably generated by a vicious
education, requires a power of imagination which is
among the rarest of human endowments."

There are those who claim that many of the leading

INSIGNIFICANT >LUIVELS.

the over-

jrious force
rules them
iincnt. It
what this
, necessity,
ul Richter,
; history a
story God's
)rds of our
itcrfcrences.
lying causa-
se laws are
lie in origin
[ thhik n»ay
keener zest
lich is bcau-
10 who rests
and trodden

phics," with
,ke hi at one
,ot to come
Icldoni found
idual action
)!!, that it is
id is drawn
speculative
il considcra-
ly adequacy
Iricnced," re-
lacter radi-
,() form any
Ibtuseness of
by a vicious
in which is

the leading

events of history spring from trivial accidents, ignoring
wliicli, in his efforts at more dignified causations, the
writer exaggerates or warps the truth. This may be
so to aliinited extent. But when William Mathews
soberly affirms that "half of the great movements in
tlio world are brouglit about by means far more in-
si;'iiilicant tlian a Helen's beauty or an Acliillcs'
wrath," that "one more pang of doubt in the tossed
and wavering soul of Luther, and the current of the
world's history would have been changed," he is far
t'ldin the fact. And wdien this writer continues, "had
( "l((i[iatra's nose been shorter, had the spider not
woven its web across the cave in which Mahomet
took rrfugc, had Luther's friend escaped the tliunder-
storni," mankind shall never know what might have
Ixcii. he approaches the burlesque. As Fontanelle
iniiaiks, "L'histoire a pour objet les effets irreguliers
])as.si()ns et dcs caprices des homines, et une suite
I'L'vunenients si bizarres, que Ton a autrefois imagind
uno divinite avengle et insensee pour lui en donner la
direction."

Another sums up fifteen decisive battles, any one
of wliicli, if resulting dift'erently, would have brought
(h'struction on mankind. Western civilizati(m would
liavo been blotted out had not Asia been checked at
Marathon. And what would have happened, that
(hd not liappon, had Hasdrubal won, had Theinistoclcs
lost, had Charles Martcl been overthrown by the
Saracens, or had Napoleon been successful at Leipzig,
sages recite as though reading from a record.

While Wellington waited Bluchers arrival at
Waterloo the sun stood still to see whether its services
should be wanted more on this planet. In like inan-
nrr momentous turning-points are discovered in state-
craft, politics, and progress.

Iluniholdt saw in the discovery of Columbus a
"wonderful concatenation of trivial circumstances,"
and Irving gives a strhig of incidents to show that
something dreadful might have happened if Columbus

!^^

HISTOIIY WllITIXG.

];a(l rosistcd Pinzon's counsel, when the latter was in-
spirc?d by the sight of a flock of parrots to steer wc st-
wunl. Mr Mill sagely observes, " If Mary had lived
a little longer, or Elizabeth died sooner, the refornia-
t'-on would have been crushed in England." An iiniate
love for the marvellous fondles these assumptions ; but
human affairs do not flow in such shallow channels as
to be turned from their course by the falling of a
pebble, or if turned from one course they find another
which answers as well. It does not seem reasonable
that liad not the Medes and Persians, the Saracens,
the French, and the rest of them, been checked just
wh(>re they were, that we all would now be ]\Iahom-
etans or Frenchmen. And surely it does not argue
well for Christ's care of his church to make its welfare
dependent upon the accident of a woman's fate.

Nature and the (ireat Inexorable have some voice
in the dispensation of human aflairs as well as Blucher,
Mary Queen of Scots, or Napoleon. These persons
were but creatures of circumstances, and the events
that raised them could have found other means and
instruments. Politics and govermnents may run away
with themselves, and with one another, but the master
is sure to bring them back. The moral ideal of every
society is stronger than its greatest fi'iend or enemy.

The great mass of readers, even of history, seem to
prefer to have their thinking done for them. It is
not given to every man to think as all the world shall
think a century hence. The deepest original thinkers
add little to the world of thought ; but from those
who hiie their thinking the world learns nothinijf.
They are not satisfied with the bald facts, but must
have them well coated with romance and theory be-
fore they are palatable. The chief art of partisan
historians is to make the facts of history sufficiently
pliable to fit pre-determined principles. Their plan is
not to deduce but to induce. Too often even amono-
philosophic writers, history is but a special pleadiiiL^
— as iu the case of Thirwall and Mitford, who take

SrECIAL I'LEADINfJ.

ittcr was in-
) steer Avcst-
ry had lived
;he reforina-
' An innate
nptions ; but
cliannels as
falling of a
find another
n reasonable
he Saracens,
checked just
be Mahom-
es not argue
ic its welfare
's fate,
c some voice
11 as Blucher,
"hese persons
d the events
er means and
nay run away
nt the master
deal of every
nd or enemy.
x)ry, seem to
tliem. It is
e world shall
inal thinkers
t from those
rns nothhig.
ts, but must
d theory be-
■j of partisan
y sufficiently
Their plan is
even amono'
icial pleading,'
rd, who take

ilu' facts of Cn^cian Jiistory, and warp them, one to
suit democratic ideas, and tlie other aristocratic ; or of
Alil»«»Lt and Allison, wlio in writing of the French,
stution (lod's providence on opposite sides. The pro-
ticiciit historian will range his facts in natural se-
nii* r.ce, so that each event may show at once its
ni'^iu and its intluence, — and herehi lies the essence
of lii4ory writing, — while for his philosophy of his-
tniv tlic student sliould draw from his Hegel or his
S. lili ,ij;el ratlier than recjuire the narrator of facts to
warp tli( lu for popular or prejudiced views. As in
orolo;4ical science we discover a chronology of the
iiiatcnal, so in liistory there is a chronology of the im-
material. A fact in history, like a relic in arclneology,
mav from its form and character be ascribed its proper
place or epoch. There are the beliefs, the politics,
till" moralities of our period, which by no possibility
could appear in another.

" To serve more effectually the philosophical ex-
jilanation of the past," says iSoah Porter, "the great
iiio\ciiicnts of historic progress in separate lines and
tlie .'^cv(Tal agencies on wliicli they depend have been
treated of in distinct works." To this separate treat-
ment of topics j)articular attention should be given in
all historical writings, bringing severally forward the
progress of conuncrce, agriculture, education, and
various kindred sections of the ground covered, so as
to enable the mind to see the effects of each of these
civilizing agents on society apart from other causes
and efiects.

To )»ure and healthy minds the plain trutli has
fascinations which no fiction, however brilliant, can
equal. A taste for the latter can be cultivated, how-
ever, until it surpasses the former. The child contin-
ually asks of tlio story told. Is it true? But by-and-
liv we fijid half the world reading romance, men and
women of all cla^.ses, ages, and grades of hitelligence
d' vouring sliadow as though it were substance, filling
tLLiiiselvcs with wind, imagining it to be food, laugli-

HISTORY WRITING.

ini:; and woopingj over tlio airy nothings of novelistF:.
all tho \v]iil(^ knovviii!!^ tlicni to be false yet pretending
them to be true. And those who can make this false
glitter appear most like truth are called artists, and
apparently esteemed more highly than if they dealt
only in truth. Novels afford us pastime and keep us
young ; liut it is a most remarkable commentary on
the mental and moral construction of humanity, this
preference of pleasing fiction to substantial fact ; and
yet, in the earlier processes of the mind, as we have
seen, truth has its fascinations.

In the domain of sober history, pure unadulterated
facts were never in greater demand than in the pres-
ent practical and material age. During the past
thirty centuries and more, the world has had its fill
of windy speculations; bubbles blown by wondering
savages, half-crazed i)hilosophers, and bigoted church-
men. Tt is the" raw material that worlds are made of,
and guided by, and more knowledge of the propelling
power that drives forward the mighty machine called
civilization, that we nov desire to see and handle.

T'^istory is not alone facts, not alone ideas, but facts
in their relation to ideas. The duty of the historian
is not only to present truth, but to demand its origin
and significance. According to Cousin's conception:
"To recall ever}'' fact, even the most minute, to its
general law, to the law wliich alone causes it to be:
to examine its relation with other facts referred also
to their laws ; and from relations to relations to arrive
at seizing the relation of the most fugitive particular-
ity, to the most general idea of an epoch, to the lofty
rule of history." Continuing tiie same thoughts by
Froude; "When historians have to relate great so-
cial or speculative changes, the overthrow of a mon-
archy or the establishment of a creed, they do but
half their duty if they merely relate the events. In
an account, for instance, of the rise of Mahometan-
ism, it is not enough to describe the character of the
prophet, the ends which he set before him, the means

INCOXORUITTES AND EXAGfiERATIONS.

of noveHstp,
t prctpiiditi'j;
ike this falsi ^
I artists, and
if tlioy dealt
and keep us
nnicntary on
nnanity, this
ial fact ; and
I, as we have

madultcrated
1 in the pres-
ng the past
IS had its fill
by wondering
jjoted cliurch-
5 are made of,
the propelling
lachine called
id handle,
leas, but facts
the historian
and its origin
s conceptii>n:
iiinute, to its
ises it to be :
efcrred also
i(Mis to arrive
particular-
to the lofty
thoughts by
ate great so-
ow of a mon-
they do but
events. In
Mahometan-
racter of the
in, the means

wliich he made use of, and the effect which he pro-
(hiced ; the historian must show what there was iu
llif condition of the eastern races wliich enabled Ma-
liouirt to act upon them so powerfully; their existing
beliefs, their existing moral and political condition."

While laying the foundations of history for an im-
portant section of the world, as did Herodotus, the
writer sliould with Horace, in a series of fahlntnx vi-
Tdiil.^, carry the reader into the very heart of the sub-
ject, and in the examination of antecedents bring to
iiis aid the mirror of Lao, by which the mind as well
as the visible form is reflected.

Certain molecules are sure to assume given shapes
ill ag:j;n'gating ; each element of matter has its own
form of crystalization. So it is with human societies;
ascertain elemental and individual qualities, and you
may predict results. As the universal brotherhood
of man becomes more and more apparent, the brother-
hood of historv is no less recognized. Nations act
and react on each other, and a history of one cannot
be complete while relating nothinjx of atiother. Nor
yet alone by years are historical epochs measured.
Ill modern history are things ancient, and in ancient,
things modern. A century before Christ, the] vomans,
in their intentions and actions, were more like our-
selves than were their successors four or five centu-
ries later. The stream of human jjrogress at the
bottom is compact and silent in its flow, while the
surface abounds in eddies, whirlpools, and counter-
currents. The branches and foliage of the tree are
ill tlieir substance equivalent to the volume and diame-
ter of the truidc from which they shoot; so the life of
man is not that which it now appears, a network of
erratic energies, swayed by every wiiul of passion, but
the sum of wide-spread influences, which, uprising with
the birth of time, unfolds from roots of good and evil.

]\[any of the exaggerations of history have undoubt-
edly their origin in the writer's effort at brilliancy in
liaiiiting character; and nothing is truer than La

■■il

HISTORY WRITING.

¥M

}r!irj)o's remark "On affaiblit toujours co qui on ex-
agoro." Sucli eftortH tend to perdition, for before tJie
writer is aware of it ho is sacrificing truth to style in
an eiideavor to please rather than to instruct. There
nil! few writers, who if they spoke truly could but
a(hiiit with J^uiii Paul that "there was a time when
truth charmed me less than itsornament; the thought
less than the form in which it was exi)ressed." Some
regai'd style of tlie first importance ; others make style
secondary to substance. Time was, and not long
since, when style was not oidy the man, but tlu^ book;
when naked facts were savagisms not admissil)le into
conventional literature. Ornamentation was more
than dress, and dress more than the body. Un-
less minted by philosophical and rhetorical flourish,
the most golden of truths were not current. Haply,
nf)\v wo will gladly take the gold wherever t)r in what-
ev(a' form we find it, even if it be not already exchange-
able coin.

On the whole we may say that the heroic in histor-
ical composition has given place to the scientific, the
romantic and popular to the austere and truthful.
Yet it is impossible w'holly to separate romance from
reality. Fiction must have truth for its base, while
staid indeed must be the narrative which is not tinged
with romance. There are historical romances less
romantic than the histories themselves — instance the
Cyrus of Xenophon as compared with the Cyrus of
Herodotus.

Let, then, him who in writing history would bathe
his rigid lind)S in pools of inspiration, and dip his am-
bitious ])en in auroral colors, pray the gods that fancy
may not outstrip fact.

To religion must be accorded the foremost credit
of sustaining alike ignorance and learning. The posi-
tion of its servants, from the early sorcerer, medicine-
man, and astrologer, to the brahmin, muezzin, or pope,
made them the middlemen between the masses and

LEGENDS AND TKADITIONS.

tlii^ awo-inspirint^ forrca of nature, and rendered
kiiowli'(lu;('. or the hiding of it, tlio (►bject of their lives,
the ( xeiiso for thi'ir oeeujjation, tlie apology for tlieir
(•\isifiu'e. As th(! means for inHuenee it Ijeeaine to
tlifiii iis ein'rent coin.

Thecollectionand transcription of leij^cnds and trad i-
tioin iiit') the 'general wliole formed part of tlieir work-
iii'j;('ii|)itMl. The leisure im[)osed by their vowsand con-
(litinii>i)n priests, and monks, and anarchists, promoted
tilt ir lahois. Their character has been stamped on
most national literature, adding to the mysticism of
jincicnt records. The Veda is as widely ditiiised in
India as the reli;4io-l)hiloso[)hic precepts of Confucius
in tilt' ( 'elestial kingdom, influencing the conduct of
a hv'u- proportion of tlu; human race. The Koran
spri'ails over many smaller nationalities, and the Bible
liflped ti> shaj)e tlie tlestinies of the advanced among
natitins, j)(>nneating the middle a;j,''S with unparalleled
tfiiatity. Not uidiko these was the influence of the
rt)pul N'uli, and other ancient records of civilized
Aniti'jca.

The first of the historians who began to place on
record the myths and traditions of their nation, made
adthtionsand variations oftheir own mostly with afraidi
ellort at truth ; yet they were not devoid of invention
and wilful falsification. Dealing in the impossible,
they readily fell back upon the supernatural to deliver
them from every dilemma ; and being filled with dim
conceptions regarding the origin and end of things,
and that insane fervor, sometimes called inspiration,
tlicy were well-conditioned to prepare for peoples just
aroused from savagism the bases of mental pabulum,
whioli well enough served the purpose for certain
centuries.

The secular historian had to wait for the unfolding
of Iil)eral ideas, as in Greece, fo.stered like himself in
the civilizing circle of foreign intercourse and trade.
He was a traveller, roused by the excitement of mo-
tion and the novelty of changing aspects, which also

liSSAYS AND MlSlEl.LANY 7

ril

I'l!

08 HISTORY WRITIXO.

brought comparison and judgment. Inquiry and
skepticism brought improvement upon mere narrative,
in i»Iiilosophic history, to which further strength was
imparted through the agency of comjnlatlon. Tlie
subsequent lialt in progress was marked by the revival
in tlie troubadour of Homeric reciters.

Improvement was slow though perceptible. Follow-
ing the gleam that breaks til rougli the mist we behold
those who begin to weigii evidence ; yet they venture
only partially to force their way through the tram-
mels cast round them bv veneration for the divine
authority and natii iial character of the earliest books.
This is stron<j;lv illustrated bv the chroniclers of the
twelfth and seventeenth centuries, who mark therein
also the retron;ression of the middle asjes.

Modern historians pride themselves on being freed
from the superstitions which clouded the views ef
their predecessors, and on having gained a truer in-
siglit into events; but how shrouded are still their
pcrceptiims by inherited and acquired bias, and how
distorted bv subordination to irrelevant aims. ¥c\\
histories stand relieved from partisan s[)irit. Sonic
seek to uphold a liberal administration, others a con-
servative policy; some the influence of ecclesiastics
and nobles, others to champion the cause of the
masses ; some seek to justify the acts of a certai'i
potentate, others to correct the omissions or jtrojudict s
of recorders. The mere effort to strengthen their
artjument brings about coloring and exaunx-ration,
ev(>n if it does not carry them so far as tlie class
which writes to prove some predetermined pro})(isi-
tion, and warp every fact to fit the theory. Thdi
there are those who write for reputation and display,
who strive to excel in the narration of some taK,
to elaborate into romance some brilliant epoch or
episode, too often at the expense of accuracy. Never-
theless we encounter those who write to tell txie trutli
for the simple love of it, actuated by a sense of
fairness; and others there are who, confident in their

VARIOUS INFLUENCES.

power to control prejudices and exaggerations, and to
di.scriiiiinate, yield freely to style as well as argument
ill Older to impart force to the incident and theory.

In tlic championship of a dogma or doctrine by the
religionist or scientist, fanaticism in some form is
seldom wliolly separable. In regard to the former,
it is utterly impossible for him to see clearly where
Ills faith is affected. He may be honest and conscien-
tious, intelligent and virtuous; his very honest}'^ and
viituo arc barriers between him and truth. He has
liccii taught to believe that upon his religion rests tlic
uiiiviTse, that his chctrimi is the embodiment of
tnilli; that by his holy book all human events, all
sciriicc, all liistory, all that has been and is to be must
1h' adjusted ; that by his deity exist the eternal hills,
and all foi'ccs, attractive and re})ulsive, and all worlds,
and all space, and light, and life, and time. And as
];(' lias been taught, so he has promised to teach ; he
may not investigate; he is bound; he would say ho
is hound to the truth, but of that he may not ques-
tion, and he has no desire to question. He may not
suhscribe to modern miracles, but he nmst to ancient
ones ; lie may trust reason and science for the })resent,
but for the past, liis sacred book su|)plies all. The
impi'obable, impossible stories, the insane assertions
of dim human intelligences, of blind ignorance, words
of men spoken in the earlier stages of mental devcl-
o|iment — these and the like are to be taken as the
omnipotence of truth, onmipotence and truth as pre-
s( nteil by nature, sense, and reason to the contrary
notwithstanding.

In a similar realm of obscurity, blinded by the
etrulu;ence of inflowing light, stands the scientist who
subscrihes to the unprovable propositions of sonic
scliool, or is seized by some conception of his own,
the estahlishment of which absorbs his best efforts,
and iiecomes the dearest object of his life.

Su|ierstition is not alone of the past, nor is bigotry
confint;d to religion. There is a fanaticism of liberty

iWl

!fll

100

HISTORY WRITING.

as well as a faaaticism of enslavement. There is a
bigctry of libertinism no less tlian a bigotry of secta-
rianism ; there are in atheism zealots as blind as ever
disgraced theism or deism. The pope claims infalli-
bility in the face of protests from all unfettered
minds; but dogmatic extremists, of whatsoever sect
or creed, likewise assume infallibility in denouncing
opinions opposed to their own. Upon a Procrustean
bed of their own dimensions these liberalized latter-
day contortionists place all who fall into their hands,
cutting oft' the Ihnbs that are too long for it, and
stretching those that are too short.

Of approximate stamp is undue bias in favor of
one's own people or country. This failing, still re-
garded in many quarters as a virtue, is worse in some
respects than the bigotry arising from religious belief,
and denotes narrowness of mind.

" One historian after another sets himself to writo
the panegyric of his favorite period," says Goldwiii
Smith, "and each panegyric is an apology or a false-
hood." Tlie liomily of glowing patriot or zealous
sectarian is not liistory but verbiage. Let all that U
wortliy of censure in state, church, and society be con-
demned : let all that is worthy of praise be extolled ;
but let not censure and praise be meted out according
to the maxims of country or creed. Patriotism is but
a form of eo-otism, which must be circumscribed if not
laid entirely aside. Let us meeteverv a<:!:e and nation
upon the broad platform of humanity, measuring r.)
man's conscience by our own but by the conscience (if
nature, and condemning cruelty and injustice wherev< r
we find it, whether in Hel)rew, Turk, or Christian,
Spaniard or Anglo-Saxon. It is no less unwise than dis-
honest to wage vituperative warfare against any natioi
or sect as such. Would he keep pellucid the streai.t
of thought, with his piety and patriotism the writer «t
history will have little to do. " Nothing endures ex-
cept that which is necessary, and history occupies it-
self onlv with that which endures," observes M.Cousin.

LM PEDIMENTS AND QUALIFICATIONS.

101

orse 111 somo

Otlicr obstacles interpose in forms infinite to warp
(.ur ntiiceptions of incidents and character. There is
I ho intellectual bias, the impossibility of reproducing
ill our own minds the thoughts and abstractions of
(.tlurs; the emotional bias, in which category ma\' be
\)\iur(\ the whole range of passion, family and class,
lovts ami hates, with their numberless sj'mpathies
and iintii)athies; the educational bias, and many
otJicrs.

Impartiality and clearness must not be confounded
(ir (ihscured, even by a strcjug detestation of the hate-
ful (iiaii absorbing admii'ation for the excellent. The
cli'cct.s and lessons of both have to be duly cmpliasized,
V( t the writer must rise above the excitement which
he liiniselt" seeks to rouse by incident or style. Like
tlic general, he must inspire enthusiasm without al-
lowing himself to be carried away by it. While aj)-
|iareiitly yielding to the emotions awakened by varying
occurrences, he must over be on his guard to restrain
those sympathies within bounds, or he becomes un-
trustworthy.

There are many yet remaining among the guilds
and schools who prefer graceful fiction to ungainly
i'mt. and the older and more learned and more refined
the school, the closer they hug their superstitions and
deny conllicting truths. They have been taught, and
sagely ; the world's storehouse of knowledge has been
opened to them, and they have been able to secure
mole of it to themselves than usually falls to the lot
of man; perchance they receive theh" daily food by
liolding to certain doctrines; at all events, they seem
too ready to welcome any sham which will bolster up
their learning, as against any reality whii-h will over-
throw it. To pander to the passions or prejudices of
a class, to romance for the pleasure of idle brains, or
draw thrilling pictures for the amusement of dull
intellects, whatever else it may be, is not to write
history.

Xo less Indispensable than freedom from such de-

102

HISTORY WRITING.

basing shackles is fearlessness in the portrayal of con-
temporaneous events.

The impartial judge should be a satisfied man —
satisfied with place and possessions, and as free from
vanity as from ambition. He should have nothing to
gain by the expression of any oi)inion or in advocating-
any principle, and if h)ss attends such expression, ht;
should be ready to sustain it. There may not b(>
many historians who, like Paulus Jovius, would write
openly as they were bribed, who would assign illus-
trious acts or noble pedigree to those who paid for
tliem, and who would blacken and vilify the name ( f
him who refused to buy fame; yet tb.ere are cnougli
over whom other motives and influences hold sway
suflicient to make their record far from just.

Hume picpied himself on his judicial fairness, and
yet would alter or reverse a fact to suit his printer.
Wliat kind of a historian is he whose charm of style,
and whose exquisite grace and vivacity of narration
have captivated so many readers, and of whom T)v
Qninccy might justly say, "Upo . any question of fact,
Hume's authority is none at all?" Macaulay hated
the (Quakers, hated the duke of Marlborough, idolized
William III, — conditions wholly unfitting him to
write truthfully.

When Douglas Jerrold went to Paris, and amidst
the scenes then stirring the capital attenq^ted the rolo
of special correspondent for his own journal, writing'
from strange nooks, as George Hodder says, ''with-
out the accustomed inqilements of his calling, and far
removed from those domestic influences which lie
often confessed quickened his inqmlses and chastenrd
his understanding," ho felt that the same Avork could
have been done better at home. When his companion
reminded him that he came there for facts, ho angrily
exclaimed, "Danm the facts I I don't want facts."

History is a magician's bottle, out of which we can
pour any kind of wine the human appetite craves.
Sophocles pictured humanity a ; it oujdit t ) be; Eurip-

TEMPER AND BIAS.

103

rayal of con-

sfied man —
as free from
o nothing to
n advocatinu'

repression,

may not ho
, would write

assign illus-
vho paid for

the name ( f
3 are enouiili
>s hold sway
list.

fairness, and
t his printer,
larm of stylo

of narration
of whom Do
cstiod of faet,
Lcaulay hated

)UL'h, idolized

:ing him to

s, and amidst
pted the rolo
irnal, writiii;^'

says,

'witli

lling, and far
■es which ho
nd ehastenod
e work coukl
lis companion
ts, ho angrily
ant facts."
vhieh we can
letite craves.
L) be; Eurip-

ides as it was. Thucydides wrote down democracy,
Tacitus iui])erialism. Was either of them true to the
intoivsts of the opposite side? Would they not have
1)0011 aocounted as traitors by their respective parties
had tlu-y been wholly impartial, and might not their
mimes and works have soon perished in consequence?
^[aoaulav looks upon tlie ills of the English poor two
conturles back; Cobbettand Hallani dwell more upon
thoir ooinfoi'ts. Kead one, and you hnagine them the
most mist'rable of mortals; read the others, and you
thiid; how nmch happier people were then than now.
To the cliaracter of Philip II Prescott ap[)lies the
words bigoted, perfidious, suspicious, cruel, which were
enough for even so powerful a prince, but when ]\Iot-
li'V adds to these the terms pedant and idiot, one be-
(^ius to wonder how such a driveller was able to manage
his estate of half a world so long and so well.

The writer of historv need not be a genius — indeed,
(fcnius is ordinarily too erratic for faithful plodcUng —
hut lie must be a fair man, a man of sound sense, good
judgment, and catholicity of opinion; of broad ex-
jiorionoe and a wide range of knowledge. While
uuai'ding agahist a too free indulgence of that love of
personalities which, latent in simple minds, begins in
oossip and boyish stories, and culminates in biography
and lustoiy, he will never hold himself above anything
whi( h affects human nature, however humlde, nor be-
low those abstract generalities which are a later pro-
duet, the result of study and experience. He should
be possessed of the faculty of abstraction to the de-
gree of double sense and opposito natures, so that lie
may clearly see the two sides there are to every prop-
osition and every human character, and thus be ena-
bled to reconcile the antagonisms of mindand emotions.
A practical imagination, calm energy, and cautious
speculation, should underlie all his efforts. It is the
historian's duty to fill vacant spaces with )»rol)ablo
events, or as Porter says : **T]ie ])o\ver when trained
and used in the search after historic truth be-

HISTORY WllITIXa

comes wliat is called the historic imagination, which
by long practice becomes so discriminating and so
trustworthy as to be termed the historic sense."

All this is very well in mihlhus. It is easy enough
to point out defects and tell how history should be
written, easier far than to find the model historian.
Wholly to abstract thought from falsifying influences,
to divorce mhid from its superstitions, its hollow max-
ims, and its moral phantasms, is not possible. Before
attempting it let Ithuriel and Zeplion search for Satan
in paradise, and let Lucifer cleanse his abode of every
worthy quality. Between o]jinion and experience,
cognition and emotion, there is perpetual antagonism.
How little we know of nature, of ourselves, of our
neighbor! How little of impartial thought there is
even among those who most earnestly seek it I

The infant beholds the moon within its grasp, and
Iciarns but gradually how unreliable are his perceptions
in this and other directions without the correcting
medium of experience. The artist has recourse to
delusive metliods to convey to the observer a truer
idea of his work, to correct the aberrations of the eye
and mind. The sculptor curves tlie column to secure
an apparent straightness of outlines ; the painter
shades the backgr(»und to convey aerial [perspective or
project his figures; the nmsician uses now slow, now
fast vibrations to soothe or animate his listeners.
Without skilful exaggeration the poem, heroic or
idyllic, would fail in its purpose. Likewise in history,
although in minor degree, writers find it often neces-
sary to emphasize, in more or less forcible manner,
certain incidents in order to raise tliem to due promi-
nence above the general level, to ]>roduce a proper
contrast. Coloring of style is permissible to relieve
monotony, or to secure an appreciation of a trait or
happening commensurate with its importance; all,
however, within the bounds requisite alone for strength-
ening truth, while keeping the reins of thought ever

PARTISANSlIir AND SKCTAPJANISM.

105

t'lon, which
ing and so
3iise."

asy enough
should be
1 historian.
r influences,
lollow niax-
le. Before
•h for Satan
xle of every
experience,
antagonism.
Ives, of our
vht there is
'kitl

i grasp, and
5 perceptions
3 correcting
recourse to
rver a truer
of the eye
in to secure
the painter
rspective or
sk)W, now
Usteners.
heroic or
e in history,
ften ncces-
)le manner,
due promi-
a proper
to reheve
a trait or
iance ; all,
[irstrength-
liought ever

uiuhr control. A battle could not be cflectually dc-
iiictcd in the monotone-applicable to the enumeration
ont!ji!^lative enactments, nor a humorous occu:rence
ill the strain recjuired for tragedy.

Ill this age of rapid transition from one state of
tliouglit to another, some might v )nsider it almost a
iiiccsriity for the writer of history at the outset to dc-
cl.iio liis method of uivestigation hi the study of social
l»hriiomciia,whether he inclines to the sideof thesuper-
iiatuial interference theory, to the influence of theindi-
vi(Ki;il willsofgreatmeninsocialafl^airs,orto the theory
of evolution and the unchangeable operation of primor-
(liiil law. The political speakt-r, or pulpit orator — and
tc» thrsc I might add nine-tenths of the book-writers —
^vl:() docs not appear before the public as a partisan
or a stctiirian of some sort, and hence prepared to
suppress half the truth hi su})port of his o[)iiiion, is'
r('L;ai(li'cl as little better than beside himself Better
thau plain truth we h)ve to listen to that which ploascs
tlio ear and absorbs the fancy, and he who sjjcaks to
us thus s[)eaks truth; him we will feed, and clothe.
jiud praise, for he it is who holds over us the grateful
sIkkIos of i'jfuorance. On the other hand those who
lovo light more than self-opinionated blindness can,
p'rlia[)s, listen or read as profitably, if the}' know at
ouco the color and calibre of the speaker's or writer's
iiiiiid. "Broader and deeper must we wiite our an-
nals," says Emerson, " from an ethical reformation,
from an iiifluKof the ever new, ever sanitive conscience,
if Avo would trulier ex[)ress our central {>nd wide-
ivlatid nature, instead of tliisold chronoloov of selfish-
lu'ss and pride to which wo have too long lent
our eyes."

Yet tlie knowledge of the end from the beginning
tends to o])erate against exact narration or views.
Ibiw diilerent to the eye of an ob.scrvor app( ar the
(■ariiag(> and conduct of one in court if he be told the
individual is culprit or judge 1 If to a stranger the

I!
ill! II

106

HISTORY WRITING. —

ii Is

i
t

most innocent raan that walks the street was pointed
out as a iliief and an assassin, villainy would seem to
lux'k about his heels and display itself in every feature.
Then to(), it is one thinsjf to write fanaticisni for fan-
atics or weave fustian for demaj^ogues, and quite an-
other to write f(jr those with whom a mere assertion,
however strongly made, will not take the place of
well-di'jrested facts and logical conclusions.

History reptvats itself, we are told. Yet like most
nuixinis tliis is too frecjucntly misapi)lied. Man's
progress — and history is but the record of this pro-
gress — though infmitcly variable in its phenomena,
and like physical nature imiuutal)lc in its laws, never,
strictly speakhig, repeats itself. Human natui i, like
])hysical nature, and the nature of all created tliiiigs, is
unchangeable. Like conditions produce like results ;
and in as far as the conditions of to-day are similar to
the conditions of a hundred or a thousand years ago,
in so far, and no farther, does history repeat itself.
There is more trutli in tlie iden that recent events
present themst>lves at too short range to be seen as
an entirety, and hence are unfit for historical record.
Time must be allowed for insignificant detail, and in-
terests purely local and personal, to subside, and all
parts of the occurrence to assume proper proportions.
The meniber of a society, dail}'- commingling with his
fellows, is not only ijiso facto incapacitated forjudging
impartially that society, but he cannot riglitly esti-
mate contemporaneous neighboring societies. His
sympathies and antipathies warp his judgment, and
if he attempts to bend it straight, likely enough he
crooks it in the opposite direction. Phrynichus, the
dramatist, was fined for l)reaking the rule of his art,
and presenting the fall of Miletus and the attendant
woes so soon after the occurrence as to excite tiie
sympathy of the audience to a painful degree. Great
actions should be presented in their simplicity, not
in their complexity, and this can be done only at some
distance, in time, from the date of their occurrence.

PAST AND FUTURE.

107

^as poiutod
ikl see in to
my feature.
,811) for fau-
id quito aii-
•e assertion,
iic place of

t like most
ied. Man's
of this pro-
phenomena,
laws, never,
natuv3, like
,cd things, is
like results ;
re similar to
id years ago,
repeat itself,
ecent events
o be seen as
)ric'al record,
ctail, and in-
)side, and all
proportions,
ling with his
[forjudging
rightly esti-
Mcties. His
dgment, and
enough he
ynichus, the
G of his art,
attendant
:) excite the
Tee. Great
iiplicity, not
only at sonn;
occurrence.

As Taine truly says: "La veritable histoiro
sVluve ;i sentiment quand I'liistorien commence a(k'm6-
kr, a travers la distance des tem|)s, I'liomme vivant,
agissant, donnd de passions, nmni d'habitudes, avec sa
voix et sa physionomie, avec ses gestes et ses habits,
distinct et complet connne celui que tout a I'heurc
IK HIS avons (juitte dans la rue."

At the same time there may be occasions when it
is impracticable for a writer to cimfine himself to the
remote in history, when important incidents and
events coming to his knowledge woukl be lost if left un-
ivco'/ded, or it may be deemed best sometimes to bring
ii narrative down to a modern date rather than leave
the work unfinished. Kernels of permanent liistory
can he selected from current events.

Practical life and our views of the after-life, are
hased upon life and opinion as entertained in the [)ast.
Amonu" the three sources for our knowledsjce of the
past, personal observation, the testimony of eye-
witnesses, and circumstantial evklencc, the former
art! naturally preferable. Yet circumstantial evi-
dence may in some instances be stronger than tes-
timonial evidence. For exanqile, no evidence is more
true tlian that written by reptiles on the bottom of
the sea, by insects in the rocks, or by plants and ani-
mals in the sand. Again, a bullet in the brain with
a liolc in the skull corresponding to that whicli a pis-
tol-hall usually makes, is better proof that tlie man
was shot, than would be the assertion of a pretended
I ye-witness open to the charge of faulty vision.

Although there are phenomena in the science of
human nature common to all, yet the condition and
character of every n)an differ from those of every
other man. Then, to the same minds things apjjcar
difl'erent at different times. Vision is affected by time
and jilace. The world seems very large to the uiiso-
l^liisticatcd. To the voun«r man returninijf to his cjiild-
hood home after an absence of vcars, a ijeneral shrinkage

I'1'

108

IIISTOUY WRITIXa.

appears to have taken ])lac'o; sizes have dwindled and
distances sliortencd. Many phases of liunian eliarac-
ter tlicro arc wliieh, like certain pliysical elements, act
paradoxically when brought in contact. There arc
two clear licjuids which when mixed become opaque
mud; there are two cold li(|uids which when brouoht
to'jfetlier become boiling hot. Some of the most dia-
bolieal acts ever witnessed have been c<Miimitted by
bn^thren of the saujc faith warring on each other.

What we now call infamous dee<ls may have been
done by those who in their day were regarded as good
men, and many good deeds have been done by thosi;
whose name we may justly consign to infamy; for by
their teachings no less than bv their fruits we mav
know them. We nmst not forget what the world
owes to its bad men, nor how much civilization is in-
debted to things which are now called evil. In judg-
ing by the light of conscience, it makes avast difference
whose conscieuec is to be the guide, and at what })lace
and period in the annals of the race it was exercised.
Conscience is like a piece of wrought steel, its value
depending upon the quality. Well tem[)ered with
reason, it performs its functions fairly. It has often
guided mankind into the most shameful atrocities, to
Christian butcheries, the very irony of Christian love.
The Spanish inquisitors who burned heretics for
Christ's sake were most conscientious and respectable
men. "There is no beast more savage than man,
when he is possessed of power equal to his passion,"
says Plutarch. While the eftect of a bad act is in no
wise lessened by a praiseworthy motive, and while
such an act merits a priori as severe condenmation as
if connnitted from a bnd motive, yet judgment upon
the character of the actors in the two cases should be
rendered very differently if we would not fall into the
error of weighing the virtue of one against the vice of
another, the cruelty of one against the humaneness

rainst treacherv, rather than

oyalty
against a loftier standard.

-ry,

OPINIONS ANT) STANDARDS.

100

Staiiflard.^ (lifter. What is ri«jrlifc or cxpetllont in
one ajii! or nation nmy not be right and exju'diont in
nnotlur age antl nation. Opinion changes; mind
ivolvos, and thought becomes nmterial, and we find
the most eminent of geologists, Sir Charles iiyell,
.•liter holding for forty years to the doctrine of spec ir. I
creation, making it the corner-stone of his intelleetuid
structure through nine editions of his work, wholly
abandoning tlie theory in the tenth.

Mediieval legends were born of a time when there
was Httle inclination to question their authenticity,
and little (»pportunity to distinguish between the true
ami the false. Modern canons of morality are not
a|»|tlic;'ble to the measurement of medi;eval character.
Likewise care should be taken to distinguish between
the various standards employed by diH'erent persons.
Thus, one would regard a poet as possessing the high-
I'st typo of intellect, another a philosopher, another a
reformer. One would name Sliakespeare, one New-
ton, one Lutlier, as the greatest of men. To the
miser, wlio can be more exalted in every virtue tlj. n
a liothschild; to a disciple of the manly art, who is
there more worthy of imitation than the cham])ion
])riz"-fighter? When in the region of siiadows, Men-
i[>|ius asked Mercury to show him the notable worthies
oftliepast gone thither. "Yonder on your right,"
he said, "are Hyacinthus, and Narcissus, Nireus,
Achilles, Tyro, Helen, and Leda." "I see nought
hut bones and bare skulls," replied ^Tenippus, "all
\ ory alike." " Yet all the poets have gone into rap-
tures al)out those very bones which you seem to look
upon witli such contempt." Thus it is in history.
Those wo praise or censure are dust, as we soon shall
he. Let us speak of them justly, as we shall wish
others to speak of us.

Social phenomena, the last to be brought under the
surveillance of science, are the most difficult of all in-
vestigations. Human character always ap[)ears before
us in evcr-chantj-inir colors. There is no such thing

HISTORY WRITlNfJ.

as human naturo aj>art from pliysiral nature. As in
plants, so till' ovulo of liuiiuin nature, clothed in its
own intt'iufunicnts and (inclosed in its pericai'p, lies in
enihryo enil)e<lded in thoallmnien that feeds it, hurst-
in<^ wliich it finds itself (^ver subject to the jjfovernance
of iK'W surround in jijs. The Diilirn of proclivities and
passions is the air breathed, the earth trodden on, and
the sky gazed into. Thus it is that ^reat artists
and great autliors are always keenly alive to the in-
flueneo of (jxternal nature over mind and emotion. So
multitudinous, and intricate, and interdependent are
the laws which govern mental phenomena, so diversi-
fied arc the agencies which det(!rminc human charac-
ter, that only an ap|)roximate knowh'dge of mankind
is possible. Isolated facts, in this connection, are of
little value; in secjuent circumstances, converging
from inmimerahle sources, and reaching back to the
beginning of time, and in the innumerable hifluences
which lise within, and breathe upon, and i)lay about
tlic individual — if tliese could be known, might be
found the causations of character.

Protagoras said, " Man is the measure of all things."
But how shall we measure man? Our conceptions of
our mighbor are of necessity automorphic. We judge
others by our.selves ; how else shall we judge them?
True, no two minds or characters are alike; hence,
automor]»hic conceptions, and, inductively, all concep-
tions of human character are more or less erroneous.
We may compare this arm or intellect with that arm
or intellect, measure one man by another man, one
age or nation by another age or nation, bu abstract
measurements are less easilv made. Consi er alone
how inseparable from the mind of the invests itor are
inherent distortions and sectional prejudice whicli
obstruct or render notional even attempts at oncrete
perceptions. In the question. What is mora ty? we
are unable to clearly distinguish innate principles
from those which spring from association.

With Herr Teufelsdrockh one must look through

AUsKNt'K OF SRLF.K\0W1.KIm;K,

111

ilio coat and lliiouuli tlio skin it covers if one vould
know tlio man. Wlicn* fctTni*; is to bo propitiated,
fi \v may boast tlic subtlt'ty ot' tlie 8cr[K'nt, t'nr t'l v
(,iiiv tilt' heart so n(>ar tlir liead. Tie wiio attt nij>ts
ti) iM»rti!iy eliaraeter slioiild jruard as mucli aj^ainst
the liailucinations <tf liis own mind, tlio delusions of
!,is own vision, as aij^ainst falsity in faet, form, or col-
oriii;.;. From a balloon, the earth's surfarn next the
ohscrver apiu'ars not convex but concave. Inferences
fioiii th.c clearest data may l)o illogical and untrue.
])tinocritus lauy;hed at everythin;^ ; Heraclitus wept
at every thinj::^. To one, the world and all it contained
scciued unreal and ridiculous, objects of mirth to a
■\viso man, while to the other there was nothing but
wliat called for tears. ^lan, he cries, is onlv to be
pitied; the world is one of wickedness, fit only for
destruction. Evil reigns; [Measure is not ))leasure;
knowledgt' is ignorance; life is but a winter's day.

Wore it possible even to know self; to dive into
tlie di'[>ths of our own cctnsciousness, and drawing
aside the veil, scan the strange connlomeration of op-
losing forces, and mark off the ego and the non-ego;
cniild \\v stop witliin the shrine, and examiiie the ma-
cliiiieiy of our wondrous life, note the ticking of (»bso-
li te formulas and the unfolding of divine intuitions;
(ituld we |)lace free-will and necessity under analysis,
failiom the duality of our nature, decompose the falsity
of seeming reality and the reality of falsity, and ascer-
tniii whence the ascendency of these vagaries and the
suhoi'diiiation of those— we might then understand
wliat is due to intrinsic self and what to intractable
ciicunistanccs. Could we plav the critic after this
tils] nor,, we might tell why feeling has so much niore
jwiWiT over us than reason ; wln^ we feed our passions
onlv to give them strenjjjth to devour us; whv. with
■srorcely a consciousness of our inconsistency, we per-
sist in deceiving oursalvcs and accepting as true what
wc know to be false ; why we daily tempt death,
struggling for we know not what, yet intensify hope

112

HISTORY WRITING.

to prolong life; why we comniit a wrong in order to
accH)ni[)lisli a riglit; why we conceal our nobler [)art,
turn our baser (lualitics like jjorcupine quills to the
world, tlien roll ourselves in the dust to Iiide them.
When once we know all this, we have then but to
turn our eyes within and thei-e beh; Id, as in a mirror,
that alter coo, our neiijflibor.

JStonuis l)lanied Jupiter because in cre.atinsjf man he
put no window in his breast tlirou^li which the h(>art
might be seen. M(Mnus was a sleepy god, and wc
mortals are likewise! troubled witli a lack of insight
into human cliaracter. No doubt Ju[)iter could have
done better. Man is far from a perfect creation.
]^ut as the gods saw fit to do no more for us, may we
not now do somcstliing for oursi']\t>s ;' Were not tlu^
eyes of jMonnis somewliat at fault as well as the fingeis
of .)u])iter? If wc lay aside the narrowing prejudices
of birth and education, under the influences of which
it is impossible to balance nicely thi^ actions of men,
may we not discover here and there o[)enii!gs into the
soul ?

<#iidmisi'j

^t^^

CHAPTER VI.

CUITICISM.
Icli liin oin Fcind vou Explieationeii; man betriigt sich oder den Andcm,

llild liH'Ist liculc.

— Goethe.

11 ii'ii|i[);irticnt qu'aux granda hnmmcs d'avoir de grand;* drfaxits.

• — Ijd liochcj'imatuUl.

Liw lidiiilircs fainnsoa por sus iiigoiiios, los grandi's po-'las, lo-i ilustres
liistoriailorcii siciiiprt', o las mas vczcs, son I'liibidiados do acjiullos (uio
ticiifu [Mir jiusto, y ]i(ir partii'idar oiilrt'tcuiiiiiciito, juzgar Ids cscntos
:ii'Cuos, MU aver ilado alguuos pioprios ^ la luz del luuniui.

— (VrraiUes.

J~*i;()T.$iOHAS beo'liis liis treatise On the CmkIs, in
tlicsc words: " Rc"S[)e('tin<;' tlio gods, lam unal)li> to
kii^iw whctlier tluy exist or do not exist." A writer
()$r\\<. ;i cliapter On the Snakes in Ireland, by saying,
•'Tilt re are no snakes in Ireland." We can hardly
aiiirin IJiat there is no sneli thing as criticism, hnt if
any exist, it is of doubtful inti'rpretation. There are
tricks ill all tivades, but there are few trades that are
.ill tricks. There art; some honest men who are critics ;
tlictc is evc>n such a thing as fair criticism. 1'hero
iiiv iiKiiiy wJK) try to be just; there are yet mon^ who
an- .imiable; a gnvit many in this world are uolitic;
liuiidicds of thousands are obligetl to live.

The ollice is one of homu', antl honorablv IIIKmI
IS (if h(MicHt to the connnunity. ]iooks are the
;.i,rc;it civilizers of tlio race, the store-houses of knowl-
cilnc, the granaries of intellectual food. Thenfori! to
tlcsi'^iiatt! in all candor which books of those thai are
made a)'e, ind(vd, |uiblic pabulum, and which are
straw; carefully and conscientiously to examine and
explain, one man for the million, the publications
\vh;di are conducive or detrimental, in whole or i.;

Kmhayu and MiHi'KLLANV b ( nu )

114

CRITICISM.

part, to learning and progress, is one of the most im-
portant and noblest works in wliich man can bo en-
gaged, while to prostitute the powers requisite for
such a position is one of the basest.

So with regard to newspaper strictures on men.
Tlie journalist who as a sacred duty strives to clean.so
the community of its pollutions, who searches out and
exposes wickedness in high and low places, who holds
u^) to public scorn evil purposes and practices, derelic-
tion of duty in public officials, subversion of the law,
prostitution of politics, injustice, bribery, iniquitous
monopoly, and all immorality, employs divine func-
tions for the highest benefit of man. On the other
hand, he who, through fear or favor, or for money, or
popularit}', or to increase the circulation of his journal,
or through prejudice, or fanaticism, or jealousy, turns
from the path of rectitude, and vilifies the good while
allowing the bad to escape, is a curse to the commu-
nity. And worst of all, most vile and most detestable,
is the hypocrite who strikes in the dark, who, while
protending to pure integrity, sells himself and l\is iu-
tluence for personal benefit, jianders to depraved pul-
lic taste, advocates iniquitous measures, or viliH' s
from personal spite good men whose ways are hont st
and whose lives have been devoted to praiseworthy
efforts. Such a man, or a news[)aper proprietor wlio
will allow such creatures to crawl about him and in-
sert slanders in his journal, is a villain of the dee]u st
dye, more deserving of the hangman's rope than many
who suffer thereat.

More than ever before, during these days of extc ii-
sive book-makinsjc, the scholar innnersed in his invc:'>-
tigations, the teacher, the general reader, need the
()])inion of qualified persons on the respective miiits
of books as they appear, need the conscientious opinio:!
of discriminating critics. It is impossible otherwiso
for a specialist, even, to keep under control the !^<'
rapidly multiplying literature relative to his drj)ait-
meiit. Indeed, opinions and controversies have beto'iie

AUTHORS AND REVIEWERS.

115

le most im-
i can be en-
requisite for

res on men.
es to cleanse
•dies out and
;s, who holds
tices, derelic-
1 of the law,
y, iniquitous
divine func-
3n the other
for money, or
3f his journal,
jalousy, turns
he i^ood while
o tiic comnm-
ostdetestahlc,
pk. who, while
3lf and his in-
cpraved ]iu1i-
3S, or viliti'S
tvs are honest
praiseworthy
iroprietor who
t him and in-
if the deeitist
ipc than many

[days of extcn-
in his uivcs-
ler, need the
kpective mirits
nitious opinion
jible otherwise
jontrol the so
I to his de]>art-
)s have beeouie

I
I.

so numerous that we slmll soon require reviews of re-
vli^wers; for on the works of some autliors, more has
hceii written than by the authors themselves.

Many have essayed criticism ; some have achieved
it. Aloliougli critical talent is ranked a little lower
than ( I'cativo talent, on tlie j];Tound tliat in free creative
p,)\ver man finds exercise for his liighcsjt capabilities,
yet in all tlio field of letters nothing is more difficult
of attaimnent than pure criticism, — not that conven-
tional article so freely flaunted in our faces by aspiring
youths or censorious old men, of which Destouches
says, '' La criti(]ue est aisee et I'art est difficile," but
tlic intelligent ex[)ression of truthfid opinion resulting
t'lom unbiassed inquiry. With comparative ease,
from the delicate filament of his inspiration the ])oet
may sj)in stanzas, but omniscience, justice, goodness,
aii(l truth, all the attriljutes of the deity, scarcely
sutlieo for the qualifications of the perfect critic.

In no department of literature is there more skilled
humbug employed than in criticism. Writers of
every other class sail under colors which enable the
reader to form some idea of their craft, and whitlier
it is dri ving. He may bo knave or fanatic, philo.sopher
or fool, who deals in history or romance, science or
nligiou ; lie may be conscientious and exact, or men-
dacious, ignorant, and superstitious; but whatever he
is, the intelligent reader can approximately place him,
and attach a tolcral)ly correct value to his work. But
the critic finds himself hi a peculiar position. He
must be wiser than all men, abler than all, and of
more experience than any; for if he is not, then is he
no critic.

The ftiult is not his; he is generally a very good
follow ; but too often he is placed at the treadle of the
inaehine and instructed to do certain work in a certain
way, and he must obey. Fifty thousand reviewers in
I'.uropo and America are employed to tell what five
tiiousmid authors have done or are doino;, nominally
to lead, analyze, prove, and truthfully value their

116

CRITICISM.

work, really to clis[)lay learning and acumen in
the service of their respective journals. It is a diffi-
cult jwsition, and one which should be better paiJ,
that of too often sacrificino- fair-mindedness and in-
tcgrity for policy or subordinating them to prejudice,
that of pretending to a superiority which one dees not
possess, that of appearing erudite and honest wIk n
one is not. This among the fifty thousand is the rah,
but to which there are exceptions.

That most of the books written never should havo
had being; that most authors are men who disi)lav
their stupidity througli a desire for notoriety, or other
ambition, and should be put down ; that this iloodiii.;'
the world with worthless books appealing to mankhid
for examination and judgment is a nuisance, and a
detriment to learning and refinement, has nothing to
do with it. The lack of honesty and sincerity in
praising a poor book is as culj)able as in condemniii;;
a o'ood ojie. And even worse than this is so magnifv-
ing the non-essential faults of a really good book, and
omitting to mention its merits, as to leave the impres-
sion tluit it is wliolly bad, which is a trick very com-
mon with malevolent and unprincipled critics. It i:^
the utter selling of himself to the prejudice, popularity,
bigotry, or pecuniary advantage of himself or another
that lies at the bottom of all false criticism.

This literary gauging and estimating of values is a
matter which comes lioine to every writer, whether
his labors be in the field of science, and in the study
of a particular branch, or in the all-embracing province
of the historian, who must analyze alike individu;ds
and communities, institutions and events, authorities
and critics. Says the talented author of Causcrics d"
Lundi, "Criticism is an invention, a perpetual creatieii.
One needs to renew, to repeat continually his observa
tion and stuily of men, even of those he knows be<t
and has portrayed ; otherwise he runs the risk of par-
tially forgetting them, ami of forming imaginary idt as
of them while remembering thein. No one has ii

OPINIONS OF AUTHORS.

117

acumen m
It is a tliffi-
better paiil,
less and in-
lo prejudice,
one dees net
honest when
d is the rul. ,

should have
who dis}>lay
iety, or other
this ftoodiii;;'
IT to mankhid
sance, and a
IS nothing to
sincerity in
1 condenniiii;;'
is so magnify-
)od hook, and
e the iniprcs-
ick very coni-
critics. It i:?
•e, popularity,
olf or another
sui.

of values is a
riter, whether
I in the study
icing province
:c individuah
s, authorities
t* Causcri(\'i (/"
^tual creatieii.
his obser\ a-
knows he^t
le risk of pnr-
uiginary id* :is
o one huH a

rij,lic to si..y, * I understand men.' All that one can
liuly say i^, 'I am hi a fciir way to understand them.'"

More of this ideal application and conscientiousness
(111 tlie part of the ciiuc is due to both authors and
1. adei's, that one may not be injured or the other
laid'd. Every author, except of course the few
M'lisililc ones, believes his work to be, if not the best
that ever was written, at least tlie equal of any, and
til. inferior of none. He has no intention of allowinij
it to rest m tlie dismal sliadcs of ;jilence, preferring
jui licity at all hazards. Sometimes he deserves the
coiideMinatiou he receives, but earnest and iionest
ill' lit sliould never be met by ridicule, even though
till' author be an ignoramus. His honesty might be
r(S|K'('ted even though his ability were not. Headers
(if hooks, meanwhile, justly ol)ject to an imposition on
the ])art of a critic which prevents his ])erusal of a
n( 1(1(1 hook, or causes him to waste his time over a
worthless one.

For so ancient an art, criticism should be farther
ailvaiiced than it is. Little progress seems to have
hit.ii made siiKC that day when cried the unhappy
mail of Uz, " C), tiiat mine adversary had written a
iiook!" He had been comforted and criticized by his
friends well-nigh to death, and he asked no better
opportunity for squaring accounts with his enemy.
The art seems to have been founded U})on the same
iiioruHty, which was to half love your friends and
wholly liate your enemies; to half recognize and flat-
ter your own prejudices as spoken by another, and
wholly to condemn all antagonism to your o}>inions
wli(iv\ er found. Instead of simple inquiry, as it pio-
Kssc'd to bo, it was arbitraiy inquisition, totally unlike
Christ's criticism when he judged men and women.

Ill the world of letters are throe several classes of
oritics; there is the critic by histinct, the critic by
• diKation, and the critic who is no critic. The first
ore those who judge by inspiration, like Hazlitt or
Saiiite-JJcuve, measuring the book and the author at

■ > K'

118

CRITICISM.

a glance. It is claimed for both of tlicsc writers that
their criticisms are divinations rather than the results
of investi<i;ation. Beneath their all-searchinjj crazf
the author might ask with Venus, who, on beholding
her statue at Cnidos, cried, " Where saw Praxiteles
me thus nude ? " They read a book as a necromancer
reads his victim. Then come those who, being intel-
ligent and well-read, are charged with learning of .so
susceptible a nature that as soon as a few facts of a
writer come under their eye, ignition ensues, and lik(i
a flash of gunpowder sufficient of their knowledge;,
colored somewhat by the contents of the book they
review, is discharged on pa[)er to the extent of so
many colunms or pages. And thirdly, those wlio
gather all they know f)f the subject treated from the
book they review, make so nuich of it their own as
they require, and write ad libitum at so much the
yard. Any one of these niav be honest or dislionest
in his intentions, and skiltul or bundling in tlie
execution.

In. the first of these more than in either of the
others we can excuse extravagance of expression, for
the keener the appreciation the more intense the feel-
ings for or against. He by whom the beauty and
fragrance of the flower are most enjoyed is most of all
sensitive to ugly and odorous weeds. Jlare is this
natural critic, who sees as with second sight the spirit
of tlie book, not without looking into it, but without
the careful reading of it; or who, like Do Quincey,
instinctively attacks a Junius, throttles a windy
Brougham, and dissects a pompous Parr or hollow
Sheridan, and with Pascal can exclaim, " It is not in
Montaigne, but in myself, that I find all I rcvad in his
book." But let those devoid of this fine subtlety be-
ware how they don the lion's skin, lest their brny
discover r' om. The loud long wail of a Byron or a
Poe fase . ites while it thrills, because there is human
nature in it So witli the genius of criticism, which
means more than metaphj'sical hair-splitting.

OMNISCIENCE OF CRITICS.

119

writers that
n the results
Lrching gazt;
)n bclioldiiig
w Praxiteles
necromancer
, being intel-
arning of so
'e\v facts of a
iucs, and liko
[• kno\vledg(i,
le book tlu>y
extent of so
--, those who
ted from the
their own as
so much the
■j or dislumest
"duiii in the

either of the
xpression, for
en so the feel-
beuuty and
is most of all
{•are is this
ht the spirit
but without
)o Quincey,
es a windy
r or hollow
" It is not ill
I road in his
subtlety he-
it their bray
a Byron or a
ere is human
ticism, whi( h
ting.

Yet of all classes men of genius, other than those
critically inspired, make the worst critics. He whose
one fiU'ulty is developed at the expense of all the
other faculties is in no fit condition to judge another's
])io(luction, still less his own. Contemporaneous men
of letters, particularly if occupying the same field, are
always envious of each other ; yet they emulate while
they hate.

Oiticism is an art sui generis. The best authors
an; seldom the best critics; just as artists are seldom
the l)est judges of art, or lawyers of justice, or poli-
ticians of patriotism, or theologians of religion. We all
lack tliatmicrosco})ic vision which clearly discerns prox-
imate objects lying under the shadow of our egoism,

Xone rail so loudly against critics as the critics them-
selves. With the ancient philosophers, whom learned
men have so long worshiped, criticism wasasnceringand
scoldinuc of school ao'ainst school, and of individuals
against each other. W'-.rdsworth, who was scarcely less
critic than poet, bunglingly enough affirms that review-
ers "while they prosecute their inglorious employment
cannot be supposed to be inr. .tateof mind very favorable
for l)eing affected by the finer influences of a thing so
])r.o as genuine poetry." Wordsworth's strictures
iit Wordsworth as well as another ; for at this very
time he was snarling at Byron for plagiarizing from
him.

] lero, then, lies a reason for the absorption of the
field by the special class called into existence by its
vast and growing expanse and by the mission of the
press as a medium between authors and the public.
Invested with this power of judging and instructing
en topics embracing every grade of knowledge, they
r(*j;ard it as a duty to their office to assume a versatility
wliich indeed transcends human capacity. They claim
it as essential to inspire confidence, just as in the man-
ner o! the physician, whoso mere tone is oft sufficient
to ^ain half the battle over tho influences contending
with liis patient, and spur tho weakened imagination

ii I

lao

CRITICISM.

to aid his prescription; or like the judge upon whose
insight and decision depend Hves and fortunes. Nev-
ertlieless, tlie claim springs from vanity rather than
duty.

Since Rabelais, there have been fouTid no other men
save this race of critics, who, like Gargantua knew
everything — knew all languages, all sciences, all
ologies, isms, and ononiies; history, music, mathe-
matics, and things worthy of belief; all realities and
})hilosophy; all pleasures, all pains, all creeds, and all
spiritualities, all mysteries beneath the earth and be-
yond the sky.

Behold him, then, the bc-wigged and be-gowned
by virtue of authoritative ink and paper, who sits in
judgment upon the products of men's brains 1 Regard
him well, this opinion-maker, this idea-autocrat. Is
he a partisan, prescribed already in his decisions ; or a
specialist with a pet theory to which all things must
square themselves ; or an unfledged litterateur puffed
with ambitious conceits? Choose your judge and be
satisfied to be condenmed ad inas causas.

Among the many who assume the office of critic,
there may be those who can review an ordinary book
of fiction, history, science, or [)liilosophy with discrim-
inaticm and fairness ; who, besides possessing as great
or greater knowledge of the sul>ject than the author,
can weio'li in an even balance the merits and demerits
of the work, and mete out in due proportions praise
and censure. And I can truthfully say that it has
been my good fortune to meet with many men occu-
pying that proud position; men in whom are united
the highest order of critical talent with inbred honesty
and fair-mindedness ; men to whom is given the powci-
they wield because they use it justly; men who are
wise by reason of native talent and education, and
who are noblemen by instinct.

And I have met others, also, those who are any-
thin"- but honorable, who prostitute their talents, and,

ASSUMPTION OF KNOWLKIXIE.

121

lie tilov professors, preadicrs, or publicans, doligl.t
ill iill sorts of subU"rfu^a>, protiMidiiig t») what is
not true. It is t'ertainly within the limits of truth to
sav that throe times in four some other than the pre-
toiidod purpose actuates the ordhuiry re'viewer iu in-
tiothuiiig a hook to the ])uhru', a deceit hased uj)om
ail assumed knowledge of the subject which he iloes
not possess. If he has not superior knowledge, how
can he oH'er a superior ojiinion? If ten books are
oi\('ii him to revi(!W in three davs, eacli book beiuLi
till' life-work of an abler man than himself, or if he is
a sjiecialist, an expert in certain directions, and is
glvni a work fresh from the hands of a brother s[)e-
ciidist, who has devoted the last twenty years to the
latest and fullest developments of the subject, we will
say the work of a student of greater natural ability
than the critic, and of far greater research and ap[)li-
cation, the reviewer has still to assume a knowledge of
the subject and a judgment as to the manner in which
it should be handled superior to the knowledge and
juil^inent of the author, if he would not bo put down
as incompiitent for the task. Nine times in ten the
ta^k is inipossil)le, from sheer lack of time to weigh
the subject, but nine times in ten the counterfeit in
criticism serves the public just as well as the genuine
article, and the consequence is that nine times in ten
tlic critic is a sham.

Tlie critic fails to consider that his point of observa-
tion is totally diflercnt from that of the general reader.
One sooks information with which to discourse on the
book. t]\.) otlier reads for instruction, and the thou^lits
of the two while perusing tlie same work run in diH'er-
cnt channels. It is not necessary for the reviewer to
know as nmch of the subject treated as the author.
fhH is iiniiossible. For durinsj: the course of a vear
tile reviewer might have occasion to notice a hundred
voiumos. each on an average having cost its author
five y-ars of study. One may tell a good watch with-
out being able to reproduce it. Pretension is there-

122

CRITICISM.

fore absurd as well as misleading.

Nevertheless he

And after all he only floats with the general cur-
rent, for tliree- fourths of every man is pretence; three-
f )urt]js of society, its moralities, its politics, its con-
ventionalities, and its religions, is hypocrisy. Men lov((
comi)anionship, wherein alone is progress; yet this
comi)anionsliip which we call society is more a seem-
ing than a being. The for'j-erics of fashion are more
tliaii its smcerities ; the wrongs of religion are greater
than its charities; tlie sliufflingsand prevarications of
business and p(jlitics attend all their dealings. For
so noljle an animal, man is a wretched compound,
though seasoned with sagacity. Beasts assume tlie
mask at times, but man is a living mask, and the worst
of it is tliat iie cannot escape his destiny. He is tlie
offspring of a double jiarentage, truth and error; one
of his fathers is tlie father of lies, to whom the resem-
blance of the child is striking. Man is a mass of
sophisms. The chief occupation of associated man is
to deceive one another. Being but partially true to
ourselves, wo are in a still greater degree false before
our fellows. And this through no fault of our own;
we are so made ; we are born into a society full of
pretension and disguise, and civilization with its arts
enforces artfulness. Entering life with our moral
beinsr at its be&t, we endow the world and all it con-
tains with grace, beauty, and perfection, which grad-
ually change to our perceptions as the years go by,
leaving us at the last in a maze of bewilderment. At
the beginning of our consciousness the world is spread
out before us like a mirage of which to the day of our
death we are proving the falsity.

Among the child's first teachings are so many
aphorisms heretical to nature that it would almost
appear that his maker did not understand his business,
"that one of nature's journeymen had made him, and
not made him well either." First of all he must cover
his matchless form, his God-made body, as a thing

MORALITY AND fONSCIKNCE.

18S

ertlicless he

ii-noininious to behold, unfit for human eyes to dwell
uiH)n; lie improvises shame and hides it under clothes.
Not only in certain rcsj)ects must he be to himself a
lie, hut his deception must be aided by nature. Then
tlint unruly member the tong'ue nmst be curbed; it
must not speak the wliole truth, and may often vir-
tuously prevaricate. And as society is constructed
wo cannot escape the.se curses. What would be the
Miiin of commerce with unvarnished plainness of speech
iuid dealiui;? A bankrupt. What would bo the reli-
gious teacher, who, instead of telling his people what
lie does not know, should tell them all that he does
kuow ? Anathema. What should wo say of a strict-
ly honest politician? That he was not a politician.

I']ven conscience is a counterfeit ; not a heaven-born
nuidi! as it pretends to be, but a fungus fastened on
the mind by the atmosphere surrounding it. Nature
furnisiies the raw material for its manufacture, and
societies hammer it out according to their several
ideals. Form, fashion, which in all human affairs are
a lucessity until man is perfect, must be the imperfect
counterfeit of the reality they represent. Our cloth-
ing, our courtesies, our worship, our rascalities, must
have forms, which are all transparent enough to him
who has eyes. We pray by beads and genuflections,
or ill stereotyped phrases. Our social intercourse,
like our dress, is for simulution and display, rather
than for real utility.

^[orality is but a fashion, and society is cemented
hy sul)terfuge. Our religion is based u|)on a not
wliolly fair purchase of heavenly favors, our poor tem-
jtoniry self-denials being urged as payment for an
eternity of felicity. True, our morality must be for-
mulitted in accordance with the mandates of nature,
and tlie standards of excellence set up by society, as
a rule, conform to the staiidards accepted by our moral
and icsthetic faculties; but it is no less a fact that
three-fourths of our thoughts, words, and deeds in our
intercourse with each other are counterfeit.

CRITICISM.

Wlicrofore, if wc are so hollow and fulso in so inany
otlicr tliiii<j.s, how shall we liaNe litciatun! without
]iy|)('rl)t)l(', or reviews without empiricism < An c«litor
who iKiVer wiiolly praised any hook, yet often be-
smeared with his venom a really good one, once re-
fused to espouse a cause of great public utility on the
ground that people would say he had been bribed!
The old, vulgar, and time-worn trick of finding some
fault — it made little difference what, or whether or
not deserved, or whether or not the most glaring fault
in the work — in order to make a show of ability, and
for fear the pu!)lic would think him notcapable of discov-
ering imperfections uidess he did so, was a policy and
pi'inciple with this man, leading him into many ludi-
crous absurdities.

He was of the truest type of newspaper hypocrite,
professing religion, professing integrity, professing
immaculate purity for his newspa[)er, holding liimseH'
a worthy member of society, — he was indeed possessed
of wealth and nmch influence, — ^}^et utterly insincere,
unreliable, and not entitled to half the respect which
should fall to the holder of looser principles opeidy
avowed. Though no lover of the peoj)le, except as
he was paid for his love, he was held in esteem by
many for whom he concocted o})inion, and who seemed
awed by the feeling that in the inner sanctuary of a
master mind was distilled refined knowledge, presently
to impregnate the metal types, and be distributed in
nmltiplications without end on paper. A helper was
kept in the office more especially for the talent ht^
possessed of clothing verbiage hi the apparel of learn-
ing, like Gebcr, the alchemist, who wrote in gibberisli,
or mystical jargon, upon his art, because to have written
plainly would have brought him to grief.

It is a matter the people would do well to consider,
whether or not there should be allowed always to ex-
ist in the community one or more newspapers either
living or building themselves upon black-mail, attack-
ing as may suit their fancy, citizens wholly undeserv-

IIUMBUO AND HYPOCRISY.

125

iii'^ of such treatment, with rulieule and scurrility, in
(inlcr to extort money or attract roatlers. Sucli jour-
iiiilism reHects the tastes untl propensities of socict}' no
1( ss than tlie lieart and mind of the journalist, for the
latter will write what the people will read. Those
w ho so like to hear ill of their neighbor, whether he
may be deserving of it or not, need not imagine them-
selves exempt from similar slanders, and should not
t'iir;4(t that while living in a comnmnity permitting and
]>:iti(»ni/ing such detraction, they are at any moment
iialilc to similar attack.

Alter all, when we consider the wrong and injustice
so fi((|ucntly inHictcd on individual members of the
cMiiiiuunity by malicious writers, the author should
II. 't complain merely at seeing the better (puditi(^s of
his hook passed over, and tlie remainder, so fai as
possible reduced to an absurdity by inucndoesor false
stutemcnts.

It is easy to deride when one can say nothing else.
'O^Fv dear Tom," said Curran to Moore one dav,
"when I can't talk sense I t^lk metaphor." Few can
will (Well; anv one can ridicule, and often he who
knows least condemns most. " There are twenty men
ol' wit," says Pope, " for one man of sense."

"It is easy to write an average literary criticism,"
says ^lathews, "especially of the fulsome, laudatory,
or savage cut-and-tlirust kind, which we find in many
American journals. For such a purpose, little [)rej)a-
ration is required; you have only to cut tlie leaves of
the hook to be reviewed, and then smell of the paper
knit".'."

riiderlying most criticism is the deslx-e of the re-
viewer to bring into notice either himself or his review,
and as this can usuall}' be done more effectually by
rtiisiu'o tlian by praise, the weaker victims are gener-
ally sacrificed. Some delight in picking a meritorious
Work to pieces purely for the pleasure it afford"., just
as a hoy pulls off the legs and wings of a fly to see it
feffiuirm. Truth is of no moment ; blood alone will

126

CRITICISM.

answer tlie purpose. Fur and feathers are made to
i\y, and if horsewhipi .d by the outraged author, hv
raises the cry of martyrdom.

Tlie miscliievous a[)[)etitc for popularity is apparent
in almost all criticisms, as in almost every kind of
teacliing and anmsing. Every reviewer must make
or sustain a reputation as an ingenious critic, as one of
hrilliant wit, of fierv imaoination, and who revels
in scrupulous distinctions. Hence the work reviewed
is fii ,t made to do service to tlie reviewer, after whlcli
it may be blessed or cursed, as ftuicy dictates. 'Half
the lies of history," says Mathews, " have their origin
in this desire to be brilliant."

Authors may writhe under the target practice in-
stituted for the momentary delight of reviewers and
readers, but tlieir own attitude as critics tends to
undermine sympathy for them. Every poet who evci'
lived lias been ridiculed by his brother poets, evei\
essayist by his brother essayists, every l)]acksmith by
his brothi'r blacksmiths. , Some, indeed, have praised,
but all have censured. Poets often stoop even to
scurrilitv. Southev siioke shghtingly of Coleridu'es
Anc'tnd Mar'nifr. Fieldin<>- saw nothing good in liicli-
ardson, nor Kicliardson in Fielding. To the ear of
Heattie, C'liui'diiU's verse was drivellini; and dull.
Doctor Johnson, with all his acuteness and sagacity
in dissecting metaphysical writers, like Dryden and
Pope, failed completcsly when he touched t\w imagina-
tive realms of romance. Nor was he better at ciiti-
cism than at poetry. Often had he reviled IMilton.
although he confessed he never read iVrwf//.sr L-t
until obliged to do so in order to gather its words into
his dictionary.

Milton jireferred Cowley to Dryden; Waller, De
IVIaistre, Drvden, and manv others affirmed that Mil-
ton's blank verse was not |)oetiy ; the little wasp of
Twickenliam received about as many stings as he gav( :
Ben Johnson scourged Spenser, Donne, Shaipliuni,

QUARRELSOME AUTHORS.

1-J7

s are made tc»
\\ author, hv

ty is apparent
?very kind ct'
T must make
ritic, as one of
who revels
\rork reviewed
er, after wl lie] 1
tatcs. ''Half
ve their origin

;et practice in-
re viewers and
ritics tends to
jKiet who ever
er poets, every
hlaeksniith h\
I, have praised,
stooj) even to
of Colerid<ie"s
o()od in 1^ it'll -
\) the ear of
ing and dull.
is and saLi^acitv
e Dry den and
d the iniagina-
3('tter at criti-
•eviled ^lilton.
Paradhv hu^t
its words into

fi; Waller, De
nied that Mil-
little wasp of
ijj^s as he gave ;
le, Shari)liani,

Day, and Dekkar. Bymer, Voltaire, and Sanmtd
ivogers ridiculed Shakespeare, pronouncing the trage-
(li,\s bloody farces, without reason or coherence. Of
Wordsworth's Frelnde, Macaulay says: "There are
the old raptures about mountains and cataracts; tlie
old tiiinsy philosophy about the effects of scenery on
the mind; the old crazy mystical metaphysics; the
endless wilderness of dull, flat, prosaic declamations
interspersed ; " and this is the poem which Coleridge
liad called "an Orphic song indeed, a song divine, of
)iij,h and passionate thoughts, to their own nmsie

(■li:lllt(>d."

In (Jray's Ekfpj neither Wordsworth nor Coleridge
saw merit. Gray i)retended he could distinguish no
;j,' iiius in Goldsmith, Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume,
TliDiiison, or Collin.s; hideed, in Grav's eves there
was but one poet, and that was (Iniy. Scarcely an
autlmr of note escapes scathing condemnation in some
firm. To bo of note im[)lies originality, and new ideas
falling among dogmatic opinionists are sure to be
wrangled over. Innovation invites derision ; sneers
aiv liie present reward of liini who writes for the
future.

l']Isewhere than in literature are discovered the
.same manifestation.s. Scott saw notliiuL'' beautiful in
pictures, nor had he any ear for nmsic. Sir llobert
Pg'I disliked nmsic. Lord Holland hated pictures;
]|\ I'on (lid not care for architecture, nor did jNIadame
do Staiil for grand scenery.

In every pronounced character there appears to lif>
some one sense lacking. Probably there never liv( d
a man possessed of more swee[)ing or subtler critical
ficulties than William Hazlitt, already mentioned. ]^y
a kind of preternatural insight or intellectual intuition
lie felt at once and with remarkable precision what
another could reach onlv bv study ' tst as a nmsical
ii'tMiius catches the spirit of a composition the moment
liis eye alights on it. Atid yet, though the assertion
may seem paradoxical, his criticisms were always de-

128

CRITICISM.

'i ;

foctivc!, and the cause may be traced to the possession
of these extraordinary critical faculties. Inspiration
is a splendid tiling in criticism, but even genius cannot
know all a book contains without reading it. The
trouble with Hazlitt was, that he did not possess pa-
tience thoroughly to master the work he attempted
to criticize. His sharp invective was hurled alike on
all. Between friend and foe ho made no distinction.
Wlierever he saw faults or foibles he assumed the
riglit to expose, and if jjossible to exterminate them.
The temperament of Rogers, the poet, on the other
hand, was most variable. With whatsoever his spirit
harmonized, he was all delicacy and aflection; regard-
in<j[ thino's hateful to him, there was dis|)laved an
acerbity ahnost dialxjlicai. Yet while every man docs
not permit his judgment to be made the tool of j)as-
sion, in humanity there is no such thing as passionhss
o[)inion. " Tant le tres irritable amour-propre des
gens de lettres est difficile a menagerl" exclaims
Rousseau. Some yield readily to tender feelings, as
Pope, who burst into tears on reading lEonu^r's rep-
resentation of Priam's grief over Hector's loss; or
Shelley, who fainted on hearing read for the first time
a certain passage in Christabel 1

The condition of the reviewer's blood or liver often
determines the color of his criticisms, leading him to
dwell on parts, or to select for special attention pas-
sages of b(>auty or deformity. Most energetic, ambi-
tious iH'i'Sftns have within them a certain amount of
innnoral bil(% which they nmst occasionally discharge.
Thus with indigestion, loss of slee[), matrimonird infe-
licities, or wiiu; and late hours, the reviewer whets
liis })en, and books are made the innocent victims of
an acrimonious tem[)er. From the freshly opened
volume comes an odor, fragrant or stale as the case
may be, but always responsive to the critic's Immoi'.

Criticism is by far too polemical. Leaving its
purely literary sphere, we see it every now and then

THE MAN AXD TEE WORK.

129

' 'M

stiikiiTJC out into divers controversies wliicli liavo
liMtliiiio- to do with tliG questions at issue, and wliicli
]!;'ii<.\v tlie minds of men to one-sided views of tl:inus,
juid lilind tlieni even to tlieir own blindness. \Y];i!e
s line have assisted to jxipiilarity fanatical or superficial
authors, as Tuppcr, IfolJand, and a host of others,
the profound lucidity of such scholars as Mill, Lecky,
^vuiicer, and Draper has been lost upon them, their
siiit of judgment behig in the heart rather than hi
tlic head, if indeed tliey ean be said to possess in any
Soii^e the faculty of jud<.nnent. In otliei's, the very
sui)eriority of the author inspires dislike, his merit
pi'ovinjif the cause of condenniation ; as we sometimes
s(".' a man wlio is i'ltu hi. •• 'o another assail his bene-
factor with a view the) ."I >;> , . lessen the obligation.

Xot unfre(|uentl3 tl;'> "ritic aflects to photograj.h
t:u' author from his writings. This affords an oppor-
tunity for tlie dis[tlay of nmch fustian, but it results
in little t'lse. The work alone falls within the jirov-
im e of criticism, not tlie author, else faults of stvle
iMriiiiio faults t>f characti'r. ('f t]:e author <^f evt rv
work he criticised, Saint-Beuve asked himself tl e
f llowing cjuestions : '■ Vv'hiit were his n ligious views I
1 1 )\v did the si'-ht of nature ali'ect liim ( How ^vas
]ir alFe( ted toward women, and bvm(!ne^■? Was he
rich, poor, and what was h's regimdif AVhat Avere
liis (luily habits, and his besetting t-\\i>- ,'" AU'of whlc h
iUT essential in l)iograpliy, but iriih'v.nt in criticism.

]]e('ause an artist scjuints, lii's i

11), cr a

br( »1

vcn

llosc

ai'e his Venuses and ^la;Joji

til

iiv

f. Bi

■cause an author is in
,1

Ki IS t • he ludo'ed

II- > 1.

or nnniora

or smoU( s, swears, «''aini>les,

ei' wears long hair
lirciiihes, or ])rays are his printed facts any better or
WiUM' on account of anv of thoo'il The character of
till' w 1 iter cannot be i)ortrayed from his works, nor is
it iicecss'.uy that it should be. Who can picture the
irlo^iv'sof Eden like TiUcifer, < the sweet serenities
et'tein])erancc like the inebriat' ■ • dutton ? h^uripides,

1:->AVS ASI> MlSCKLLANV U

i'i

130

CRITICISM.

tlio most tour]iin<:; of Greek traujic poets, tliough more
skoptica.1 ill liis religious opinions than yl^]srliylus, was
a more piou^ writer. Love ratluT than fear was tlic
spirit of Ills teacliini^s. If we accept sucli precepts
only as tliose that tall from pure li]»s, we shall wait
long to he wise. And yet how quickly the intelligent
read'^r imagines he detects the qualities of his author's
mind and manner, fancying he sees before him a boor,
a gentleman, one instinct with fun, kindness, lionesty,
or the reverse. Did not James Boswell, Esquire, tlio
blustering J^ritisli coxcomb, the witless wit, the syc;)-
phaut and sot, the spy and tattler, did ho not write
the best biography in the English langu. < ^^ e most
natural, the most vivid, the most truthfui, d that
because he was such an egrcgrious ass as aiw^ays to
tell all he knew? And shall not a critic in his review
separate such an author from such a work? This as
a rule; notwithstanding which there may be some
truth in the words of Jean Paul: "Xie zeichnet der
IVIenseh den eignen charakter schilrfer als in seiner
Miinier eirien fremden zu zeichnen."

I do not mean to say that a reader can know notli-
ing of a man by his words and sentences. If we m;iy
know something of a person by his dress, his walk,
his air, or attitude^, surely we may know more of him
when lie opens his mouth to speak or introduces us to
his inner self tlirough the expression of ideas upon
paper. Tlio choice of language antl style is an ind* x:
to a man's character. In expn^ssions empliatic, mod-
erate, verl)ose, we see men of different dispositions.
He is recognized as cool-headed, tenqterate, wlm
Weighs carefully his opinions, and makes his woiils
strong from their very scarcitv. We see a doumatir
disposition in one who makes assertions in a positi\c,
arrogjint manner, never admitting a doubt as to the
correctness of his ojtinions. We know another to ho
inii)(>tuous and irritable from the hurried vehemeiiee
of liis words and his impatience of controversy. ]>ut
to know and judge a man is very ditlerent from con-

TKK'KS 01' TIIH TUADK.

ir.

ough more
-liylus, ^vas
;ar was tlic
'h precepts
3 sliall wait
! intelligent
his author's
hhiiaboor,
'ss, honesty,
Esquire, tlu
it, the £yco-
,0 not write
_r '-^ n niost
ai, -I tliat
as ai \vays t' >
in his review
■k? This as
my he son)(^
zciehnet cUr
als in seiner

I know noth-
If we may

iss, his walk,
more of him
■oduccs us to
f ideas upon
e is an in(l< k
|iphatic, mo'l-
dispositions.

Iiperate, wlm
,es his wor«!s
e a dogmalir
in a positi\< ,
.bt as to tlie
kiiother to ho
I'd vehemenco
)Versy. r>ut
it from cuu-

demiiing the W(n'k on account of the workman, or rat-
ing a book as good or had on account of the autho)''s
temper or morality.

Too often in conversational criticism tlic author is
made a vehicle in wliicli to cany oti' the lumber of
tli(! writer's diMUolished ideas. This is tlie case wlien
liir main features of the work are igiioi'ed while iiisig-
nilicant parts are taken up and discussed with all the
-gravity of a DeQuiiicey expatiating on murder as a
liiir art. The critic's own idiosyncrasies replace the
^.ciitiments of tlie author criticized. The reviewer,
v.lm perhaps is some professional man or theOi"'-;t,
t.ikos this op])ortunity for ventilating liis ideas on the
sulijiHt under consideration, and tlie author and his
v,i rk are placed in the background. Such wt-re many
el' the reviews of ^Facaulay, wlio used the hook only
as a text t(^ i)reac]i a sermon from.

There is much of this sjtecial pleading in criticism,
wilt le the member of a sect or a society, a })rofessor
ovddctorof something, views the woi'ld always through
\\v iiiists of his learinng, and the main object of whose
111' is to make converts to liis theory. As for unadul-
u vAwd truth, few desire it, or have the courage al-
■\\ . s to own it when they find it.

What cares the sectarian for truth while ])leading
f If proselytes? What cares the politician for truth
wliilc siH'king to exalt liimself or liis party ^ What
cares the author for truth who seeks only to jm'ovc a
tavoriie theory, or who writes to s<Miare his facts to
lii> |)hiloso[»liy ? And what is more, this garbled,
iiK iiilaeious stylo of writing is expeeted, regarded
wiili fa\or, and even demanded in the higlu'st rpiar-
ters. ]\r wlio does not write as advocate or special
]ik'ailer on one side or the other of a subject, but
!-iiii|ily to tell what is known of it, that the truth may
liiially be ascertained, seems in the eyes of many to
bi' lacking in something. "A critic inontiof th(> quar-
terlies," savs Hamerton, "once treated me as a feeble

132

CRITICISM.

defender of my opinions, berauso I gave due consider-
ation to both sides of a question."

It must not be forgotten tliat nearly all tlio so-
caHcd exponents of public opinion are in bondage to
briiid-Avinning, either as salaried men or proprietors.
All teachers, preachers, professors, editors, and nine-
tcntlis of the authors are chained in greater or less
di'giee by some one interest, obligation, or necessity
to (H'rtain lines of thought and conduct. The jour-
nalist, if ])r()[)rietor, must first of all consider the
interests of his journal, the salaried editor, of his pay ;
the clergyman and the professor must follow the
c(»urse marked out for tliem by tradition and associa-
tit)n. True, they will claim to believe in what they
teach ; but if knowledge is a fixed quantity what hope
lias progress? The popular writer must sacrifice
whatever prevents the admission of his article in the
pojtular magazine, whose publishers unhesitatingly
saciifice whatever impedes its circulation. It is a
very difficult matter making men see the truth con-
trary to their interests. All this should be remem-
bered in criticising critics.

Even ap})arently independent criticisms in book
form have to study the viev/s of publishcis and par-
ties, while the great mass, in the public journals, are
s\va}\ I i.ot only by pressure of time, but by preju-
dices of the editor aiul pro])rietor, and the s[)irit of the
publication. The press is called the mouth-piece t)f the
pe()])le, and as they would give utterance so nmst it
speak. But in what a limited degree does this apply.
Few of the peo[)le think at all, and when they open
their mouths nothing comes forth. To such the pub-
lic journal is brains rather than tongue.

Of those who think, or imagine so, few penetrate
l)encath the surface of things, breaking asunder tlic
hold u]i(»n tliem of tradition and environment, himI
casthig themselves adrift on the sea of reason, witli
yuly nature and experience as a rudder. They do

JOUIIX ALL^TIC SUBTEIlFUr; E.

133

not rcacli tlie bottom of any thinsjj, or follow any sub-
ject to its source ; consequently tlicy are ever ready
tvO list(^n to those wlio pretend to know more tlian tlicy.
Of this class, iu a certain sense, tlie [>ul»lic jouinal is
the nioutli-piece, holding' sway in most matters by
means of that well-sustained assumption of su[)enor
kiio\vl<-d<2;e wliich is necessary to successful leadersliip.

The dii»'nity of criticism sinks materially wlien the
views of certain journals rcj^arding any work on a
u'iven subject may bo foretold by one ccmversant with
the policy or prejudices of its editor. The popularity
of tlie journal is its life blood, and is paramount to
tiuth or fairness; sometimes the popular course is in
th.e (hrcctlon of truth and the right. Where a book
falls into the hands of a school or clique, it is m.-idc a
f()i)t-ball, and criticism, like sectarianism, or political
partisanship, l)ecomes a fight. Though the free indul-
gence of ])ersonalties in criticism which obtained in
Byron's day is modified, we have perhaps what is
worse in these self-o})inionated cabals. What would
bo tliought of a Chinese woman jealously decrving a
Parisian head-dress, or a Chinook finding ^ault with
the religious observances of the Turks; and yet as
(;voss absurdities are perpetrated daily amid the world
of criticism.

Every shade of theological and political ojiinion has
its organ of criticism, whose illogical dogmatism is the
very irony of lione-'ty. Its mandates take the

jilaco of the political or theological censorslii[) which
circumscribes the j)ress in so many foreign countries.
Instance the effect on ^lerimee's review of Xdjxilcon^s
('!r>'<ir. " I am not dissatisfied with my article on T/ie
HiMori/ of Julius drmr," writes he to his Incognita.
"As the task was imposed on me, submission was v.n-
^.voidable. You know how very highly I think both
of the author and his book, and you also api>i'eciate
tlic difficulties besetting the critic who would d»>pre-
(iito the imputation of sycophancy and yet say noth-
inn' unbecoming."

134

CRITICISM.

After all, there are only a comparatively few lead-
irii,^ journals and journalists iu the world, the few
which ai'(! really what they ])reteiid to be, makers of
opinion, that a writer for lasting' fame needs to fear.
Al)out th«'se there is little of that "ignorant })rais(',
vvhicli," as (jteor^o Elliot says, "misses every valid
quality," nor yet iujnorant condemnation. Before I
should agree with Doctor Johnson when he says, "I
would rather be attacked than unnoticed; for the
worst thiiiij you can do to an author is to he silent as
to his works," I should consider who or what it was
that attacked. While the Olympian o()ds hi council
were discussinof what should be done with certain
skejttics on earth who doubted their existence, a mes-
sent»er from below amiounced the occurrence of a duel
of philosophers over the subject. Orthodox Timocles
disjmtes with infidel Damis. Timocles becomes con-
fused in his argument, then angry, and threatens to
break the head of Damis, who laughingly escapes,
Ju[)iter is in sorrowful doubt where lies the victory.
Mercury attempts to console him by saying that they
still have the sx^cater nund)ers with them, let Damis
win whom he may. "Yes," re[»lied Jupiter, "but I
would rather have on my side one man like Damis
than ten thousand Babylonians."

There may be no deejKT thinkers in the world now
than three thousand years aoo • but mind seems t )
have been somewhat quickened since the days of the
ancients, and there is more to think about, more «)f
reality and less of speculation. After the voyages of
Columbus knowledge rapidly multi|)lied.

The true critic, after determining the questions
whether or not the book has any right to bo, whether
or net the author's subject is of sufficient importance
to claim public attention, whether or not the author
has a proper cause to lay before the tribunal of letters,
will then proceed to determine the merit of the }>lan
and the faithfulness of execution.

Adverse criticism, in so far as it is merited, should

WORKS OF MIXED MERIT.

13S

always unfliiK'liiii<;ly be given; but not in a spirit of
injustice or aiitagoui.sin. Neither coars(! persoutilitios
nor clironic fault-findings are ])roduetive of any good,
liiijxifeetions may be jjointed out with scrui)ulou.s
tare, but uninijjortant deficiencies sliould not be [)ar-
adcd as i)riniarv failini'S, an«l so made condemnatory
of the wliole To be i)roductive of good both to the
autlior and to tlie public, let faults bo found in con-
nection with good qualities, if of the latter there bo
any, and all in kind and conscientious fairness; so
that while the public an; warned of false pretenders,
inexperienced authors of meritorious work may be led
to conect the error of their ways.

It is not expected that dullness and stupidity should
be lewai'ded. Least of all is it to the interest of
wiiters of good books that the incompetent should be
successful. Yet might the critics make it a little
more their i)leasure to point out the merits of a good
l)()()k, as well as the imperfections of a poor one.
Jean Paul liichter says that a book without beautii s
is a bad thing, but a book without faults is n(jt there-
fore necessarily a g(X)d one. "Let 3'our rogU(>s in
novels act like rogues," says Thackeray, "and your
honest men like honest men; don't let us haxe any
juggling and thimbh'rigging with virtue and vice, so
that at the end of three volumes the bewildered reader
shiill not know which is which." This may sound
very well in novels, though such a sentiment does not
tend to raise the discriminating qualities of the satir-
ist in the reader's opinion, for hi real life we find no
such thing as men all rogues or all honest. Paul
]>'i(liter complained that the reviews bestowed upon
his Works either extravagant praise or indiscriminate
etiisure. "Die Kritik," he says, "nimnit oft dem
J^auine Raupen unc^ Bllithen mit (>inander." It is
easy to Hatter, but exceedinixly difficult to bestow
heart-felt i)ruise. We may for charity's sake overlook
slight i'aults in a meritorious work. "A book may be
as great a thing as a battle," says Disraeli ; the life

136

CRITICISM.

and clmrartcr of a <X()nd book may bo nicasurcMl with
the lit'o and cliaracter of a <j;'ood man ; fictiuontly one
o-ood book is worth a thousand men. lie thi-ioforo
wlio wilfully and maliciously murders n i^ood 1h-,1<
or destroys pniiseworthy etlbit, cannot be too scytTely
condenmed; thouLjli as Maitial says: " Chartis nee furta
noeent, ot falcula prosunt; solaijue non norunt hiuc
monumenta mori."

Perfection nowhere exists; yet few books ]>rint' d
arc wholly (levt)id of merit. That maryellous student,
the (ilder Pliny, always took notes as he read. (K'cliir-
in;4 that he could find somcthin;j; good in the worst of
books. Attempts cycii arc worth some consideration.
A bad author is bad enough, l)ut an inconi[)etent or
diH4ionest critic is worse. The least meritorious
author does some jjjood; tiie best critic nmch eyil.

Carlylc says: "Of no giyen book, not eyen of a
fashionable novel, can you predict with certainty that
its yacuity is absolute; that there are not other
yacuities which shall partially replenish theniselyes
therefrom, and esteem it a Plotmi}. And knowi'st
thou, may tlio distressed noyelwright exclaim, that I,
here where I sit, am the foolishe.st of existino- mortals;
that this my ]o\vx car of a fictitious bioin-anhy shall
not find one and the other into whoso still lon;j;er eais
it may be the means, under [)royidence, of instillin;,!;
somewhat? We answer none knows, none can cer-
tainly know; therefore wa-ite on, worthy hrotlun*, ey^'u
as thou canst, eycn as it has been o-iven thee."

In literary ventures the chances of success are in
no wise ])roportionate to the necessary tiiibrts. Dic-
tion-drillinL!; and literary stuflfinsj^ do not make a
w^riter. Innumerable perplexities often beset the
author, of which the reviewer knows nothing; not
unfre({uently an author is obliged to adopt a i)laii
which no one kno\vs better than himself to be faulty,
in order to avoid a yet more faulty course.

In quoting from a work the reviewer by artful
selections can make the author say anything ho

TliUTII AND FALSEHOOD.

137

wishes. The AtliMiiMslnn creed is not to bo fouiKl in
the writings of Ail. iiiiasius. Savs Jfeihci't S[i(Mieer
on (his sultjcet, " We eauiiot inter t'roiii u tVa^imiit ( f
a (diii[)ositittn wliat the wliok; is, any more than we
( iiuld (h'seril)e Babylon from .specimens of tlio briel;s
UM(I ill iis ( oiistructioii. This is a }>i'inciiiK' wliicii
s!»uii(l criticism liojds fast to in pronouiiciiig" its Judg-
nuiits oil autliors and books." To mass f-icts and
present argunu^nts for tlu^ su])])ort of but one side of
a ([Uestion, ])retending meanwhile to state tlie vviiolo
case trutl.fully, be it in law, theology, or letters, is
iM'ilher honorable, nor beneficial to mankind.

1 longer ears

hne can cer

Iccess are ni

othinu; net

In the ultimate i)rinciph>s of human natun^ tliere is
a dualism which manifests itself in all hunwui ail'airs.
All (I /(/•/e/v" analysis of humanitv Is not necessary to
show that in all things relating to man, no les.s than
te man himself, there are two sides. In social inter-
cour.se there is an inner, proximate, and real side,
and an outer, disingeimous, artiticial, and false side.
\Ve know what we are ; we are none of us exaj tly
satisfied with ourselves; we would appear something
(litreient. Hence the prmiary pur[)o.se of s:)eiety lies
no h'ss in xiipin'ots/o rcri than in xiit/ijcsfio fdlsi,

liikewise whatever man touches, l)e it from the
highest and purest motives, lie warps and falsely
celors. There is nothing he so eschews as truth,
even while pr(>tending to search for it. If h(> ascends
the ])ul[iit it is for the purpo.se of dngmati/ing rather
llian for honest inquiry. If ho enters ])olities it is for
tJie })urposc of serving liimself, while pretending to
serve the public. If he publislies a journal, and
swears upon the holy evangelists that honor, inti'g-
rity, and the welfare of the peoytle ar(\ and ever shall
he, liis governing principles, beware! for he will b(>-
tiay you, aye, he will besmear his manhood with
(Htcli-watcr and .sacrifice friend, wife, or mother to
v.liatcver he conceives to be for the interests of his
journal. The physician will leave a man to die rather

13S

CU1TIC18.M.

tliaii submit to wliat lie re^artls as a breach of prof«s-
sioiial eti(|ucttc. The lawyer will clear a niurtlert r,
];ii()\viM!4' biiii to be such, aiidlet hiui loose, like a blood-
hound, with a[)[)etite whetted by coiitiuouient, njnaiu
to i)rey upon society. Jurymen, sworn to render a
verdict accoriliiii^ to the testimony, fling cvidcnco to
the wind, and consult only tlicir feelings.

^laiiy empliasize the value of standards by whicli
to judj^e. l*()[)e says study tlio ancients, and square
a'l criticism by their rule; but before (^reeco and
Rome is nature, whose ethics should be our guide.
The ancients were not so wise as tlicy have been ac-
counted ; they were not so wise as the men of to-day.
Canons of critical art can be laid down but partially,
and cannot l)e made to fit every case; yet one may
always broadly know souiul sincerity from hollow
cliicanery. Neither in literature nor in art has the
world a complete and acce[tted standard of excellence.
Art, like nature, may not alwa3'S be interpreted by
[)n'8cr!l)ed rules. Volumes sent foi'th among review-
ers to bo measured by rule have been made the battle
ground of contending factions equally with those upon
which critics have i)assed candid judgment from their
own intuitive sense of right and wrong. Philosophic
criticism is broadly guided by nature as the source of
all knowledge.

Inspiration alone can fathom inspiration or experi-
ence fiitliom experience. Beads of persi»iration rest-
ing on the brow may tell of bodily fatigue, or of the
soul's great agony, or they may give welcome notice
that the crisis of fever is safely passed.

The dramatic critic has the advantage of the re-
viewer of books in one respect; he is not obliged to
pronounce his verdict until after the public have ren-
dered theirs. Even the canons of dramatic criticism
are taken ready made from the play-goers. Moralit}',
an essential of literature, is subordinated to expression
in tlie drama. We read books for instruction ai.J
improvement ; we attend the play for pleasure.

DISINTKH

)NESS.

189

llciico ill tlio (Iraiuji, nunv. tliau in litcraiuro. to vm-
pliasizo a vico is no loss plcasiii;^ to tlio puMic inind
thiiii to a<lorn a vi^tu(^ Tlio puro-iiiintled tli(»ugli
\iii"(!'ul Anno Bolc'Vii is U-dious on the sta-jc hosido
l!i" sinful tasciimtioiis of Caiiiillc, Pliiloso[>liic oriti-
ci-iii is ail enli'jrliteiu'd curiositv which seeks to know
tlie Ljood, an eiilii^hteiied juclgineiit which seeks to
tl'hriiuiie the rij^ht. It seeks to turn from party
(ant and plant itself fairly on the })latform of truth.
It does not stop to cavil at unimportant peculiarities
nf stvlc or diction ; the author's o})[)ortunities as well
i!s his aims arc considered, the time in which he lived
t\< \V' II as the result of his undertakinyf. The critic
sli;iu!d he ni rapport with the author instead of nien-
tiilly armed against him. As Porter says, "The
Clitic cannot be just to an author unless lie puts him-
srlf in tlio author's place."

Matthew Arnold gives his rule of criticism in one
word, disintoreste(' "ss. And this he would disjJay
In- liolding aloof ' what he calls the practical view
I'f t]rni,!j,s, and b^ .^^viiig the mind free j>lay. Criti-
cism slinuld follow its nobler instincts, utterlv refusinuf
1) lend itself to social, political, or theological fashions
or forms, utterly refusing to be influenced by pique or
liy intellectual vanity.

A good reviewer, with a wide range of knowledge,
c >iiihiucs comprehensiveness of views and catholicity
<'f ()[)iiiions, sustained by subtle instincts, delicate
tastes, and an analytical and judicial mind; e})Igrain
mid paradox ho subordinates, and hyperbole and liy-
Iiii'criticism he despises.

lie must be neither a good lover nor a good
liatt'i'. ]Io must have wisdom without prejudices,
|i<>\vrr without passion. Candor controls his pen. ]lo
is hold yet modest; severe, if necessary, but kind;
Ht'ither dogmatic nor moody, neither sentimental nor
cynical. To high-minded unselfishness is added a
keen and correct insioht into the minds and motives
ot 111011. He discovers to a friend his faults, praises

140

CRITICISM.

an onriuv's i^ood work, and lu'vcr talks morel v f ■ r
ciYvct nor ])r()fcss(s too much. Of that wliuh Is;
knows nothinj^ he says nothing. ]Ie is satisfied th..t
no trade based on cheating or cant ever is pernni-
ncntly successful.

His knowli'dge of mankind is not less than his
knowledge of books. He analyzes nature as skilfully
as literature. Saint-Beuve served an apprenticeship
dissecting the bodies of dead men before he began en
the writings of living ones. ** Je n'ai plus qu'un [)l;ii-
sir," he exclaims, "j'analyse, j'herborise, je suis nii
naturaliste des esprits. (\> (|ue je voudrais constituii',
c'est riiistoirc naturelle litteraire."

Matthews remarks on Saint-Beuve : "It is safe to
sav there never was a literarv iudoe who was moi'e
indefatigable in collecting the materials for his de-
cisions, or who tried more earnestly to keep his mind
from all bias, and from everv influence which could
Interfere in the slightest degrcH^ with the clearness,
vividness, and truthfulness of its impression. Hi-
jealousy of himself was carried, at times, to an almost
ridiculous extreme. So keeidy was he sensible, and
so morbidly fearful of the influenc(i of friendship ujtoii
one's (ipinions, that he sacrificed, it is said, some ot li'is
pleasantest intimacies to his love of ini])artiality."

In measuring character, as in ev(>rything else, vro
run to I xtremes ; and often our foolish and versatiK'
prejudices change objects most familiar. Through
the eyes of love sparkle sunlight and prismatic rain-
bow hues. The color of our glasses tinges all we see;
from our collection of spectacKvs, we draw and adju-t
the ureen Ljlass, it^alouslv; or the vellow glass, envv;
or the red glass, revenue; or the black glass, racor;
turning all into hate and hellisli hues. Hut in sp>(>
of our blind vagaries, as Pascal savs, "I'lionnne nest
Tii ango ni bete ; et le malheur veut (^ue qui veut faire
lauiio fait la bete."

The improbability of encountering the paragon re-

AUTHOR AND TUBLIC.

141

ks merely f r
luit wliidi 1:'
i satisfied tlu.t
ver is pcruiti-

less than ];:s
lire as skilfully
apprentieesli'.;)
re lie be;j,an eii
)lus (lu'un pl:ii-
,sc, je suis nil
irais coiistituir,

"It is safe to
who was more
als for his dc-
) keep his mind
■e which <()uld
the clearness,
ipression. Hi^
es, to an almost
ic sensible, and
friendship upon
laid, some ot lils
l)artiality."
,thino- else, ye
and versatiK'
lar. Throu;^!i
trisniatic rain-
i'j,es all we sec:
•aw and ad.)U->t
»w olass, envy:
k <j,lass, racHi':
Hut in sp ti'
I'liomnie n tst
(pii veut faiie

the paragon re-

viewer, and the likelihood of meeting with more flaw-
liiiding than admiration, should teach the speaker or
w litcJ' to steel his sensihilities and sulxnit patiently to
( riricisni. If wise he will not be puH'ed by praise nor
ii mil I dated by censure, but will be soberly stimulated
l)V the one, and taught imj)rovenient by the other.
The })ublic. whose attention he challenges, have their
iij,T;ts as well as he, and if cheated by false j)retenses
i.ut of their time or money, have just cause for com-
]i!;uiit. He who cries truth and sells only its iniita-
tiiii, is a charlatan, and the |)eople through their paid
;!:;ent, the })ress, have the right to denounce him. If
1:0 lias done auijjht worthv of fame, let him rest con-
tint; time will establish it. A good book cannot be
liidden. Bury it in the grave with its author, as in
the case of Dictv's Crctoisis, and an eartlMpiake will
hnrst the sepulchre.

That a book lives, though condemned by its critics,
is not altogether proof of unsound judgment on the
\rdvt of the reviewer, for he may have been rigiit as
{■■> l)oth the absolute and relative merits of the work,
and the world led away by caprice, jirejudice, or pas-
sion. Hut for the most part, and in the long run,
time and the world are to be trusted.

" I know of no tonic more useful for a vounsj; writer,"
says lliguinson, "than to read carefully in the Knglisli
ri'vicws of seventy or eighty years ago the crushing
(iltieisnis on nearlv every author of that eixxh who
has a( hieved lasting fame." Wordsworth attempted
to (lis|»aragi! (jroethe without having read him; he
sli'jiiiatized Dryden's music ode as a drunken song,
and lield ]:>urns' ]iroductions in profound conteuiiit.
' 'n ihi> other hand, anndst a universal hiss of scorn,
UjKin tlie wheels of its sarcasm the K'h'iihur</li Jicviciv
lii'i ke every poetic bone in Wordsworth's body.

1 hiziitt has often been jironounced a bloc khead, and
Slirlh'v's ])oetry meaningless. Hyron called Spenser
:i 'hill fi'Uow, an<l (Tiauier cont(>mptible ; a poem of
^^ ordswortli's was his avc rsion. When it first appeared,

'a':

1) '<

III

BU)

142

CRITICISil.

Jaiw Eyre was denounced in the severest terms by tlie
QuarU'rhj Rcvwir. No one ever aimed at severer iin-
jiartiality than Hallam, but in s})ite of his strictly
judicial mind, his admiration was often too much for
liis discrimination.

Patmore published a severe criticism on Sheridan
Knowles' Virf/iiiins, which lie was led wholly to mod-
ify after having seen the author. When an old and
expert critic in one of the first reviews of the day
feels comptiUed to acknowledge tliat "the Kul)sc(iuciit
writings of this distinguished man have convinced nu;
that my first impressions of his talents as a dramatic
writer did him manifest injustice in some particulais.
and fell far sliort of his merit in others," what trust
can be placed in fiedulinus i

It was deemed scarcely safi; at one time for t]\c
preface of a book to go out unarmed, that is, without
defiance and loud denunciations of the critics.

Sodcrini ordered to be nuuic for him liy ^li<'liii' 1
Angelo a statue, which when doni; was perfect. Nev-
ertheless, Sodcrini must criticize; the nose was iu>t
Grecian enough. Takhig a chisel Angelo ]>rcten(!ed
to altiT it, meanwhile letting fall some dust which he
liad concealed in his hand, but in realitv not touching-
the statue. Sodcrini was charmed that his opinion
shoulrl have been so cheerfully acted upon, and extolKd
the nose as perfect. In like manned' Pope pretendtd
to change certain woids of the ///W^/ which Lord Hal-
ifax had criticized when Po})e had read to him tlic
poem, to the infinite gratification t)f his critical
lordshi[).

Before the ti'iumphant march of genius critics arc
p(nverless. Knowingly they never atteni[)t lo write
down what is apt to become popular. Like those ot'
journalism, their (;pini(ms are based on cowardice, ami
too often on the trembliii''- timiditv of l<jnorance. Sa\ s
(Jillies, the Scotch riiviewer, "]\v no ellbrt of criticism
could we imt down the Lay of the L<t4 M'niKtrrl. J^wn
the ballad of Ilosabelle, and the description of ]Melresc

ORIOIXALTTY AND rLAGTARISM.

143

:;rms by tlu*
sovL'ivr iui-
liis strictly
)o much tor

311 Slicridau
)lly to iiKxl-
L ail old aiul
of the (lay
) sul)se(|uciit
oiivhioc'cl inu
8 a cirainatic
) particulars,
" what trust

bime for tho
it is, without
itics.

1 by i^licliacl
,.rfcct. Ncv-
lose was not
lo prctondi'd
list which lie
not touch iii^j;
his opiiiiiiii
I, and cxtolhd
pc pi'ctcudtd
ii Lord ll;d-
l to him till-
his critical

III

s critics nrc

)t to wnti

iikc tliosr "t

twardicc. am

hranco

ivs

■t of criticism

VIK

1)11 O

hrl. Y
f ]Mcl

rose

hv moonhght, were aknie cnougli to keep it buoyant,
iiotwitlistanding tliat the poem was decidedly at vari-
ance with all our acknowledged models."

Just before Talfourd's Ion was put upon the stage
n midst the most boisterous triumph, the critic's place
on the Athcmvitiii was taken from Chorlcy and given
to Darlcy, who used the axe and scalpel with such
onsummate dexterity that to cut books to pii>ces be-
came a passion with him. l^ut in writing down Lni
J)ailey made a mistake: and Chorlcy the supposed
(ulpi'it was hooted to the wall by an exasperated
]tul)!ic. He was blackguarded as the "chaw-bacon of
literature," " a worm," and many such names. "1
cannot call to mind a writer more largely neglected,
sni'ei't'd at, and grudgingly analyzeil than myself."
complains this innocent victim.

A ri^viewer is in no wise backward about calling
tlie attention of his reader to the ])raise bestowed by
liini on the first a]>pearance of what subsc(iuently
proves a successful book. Says Chorley, of the
Aflii mntiii, ct' Hawthorne's writings, "It is one of
]:iy greatest pleasures as a journalist to recollect that
1 wa-' the first who had the honor of calling attention
to (JK'sc tales when they ai>[)eared in the form of
p' riiJical articles."

Plagiarism is a charge that has b(>en freely bandied
liv i(^alous authors no less than by keen critics.
liyi. ill's inspii'ations of natun% A\'ordsworth said, were
lint (h'awn from nature, but from his Tiiifmi Ahhry,
aiisl that both the sentiment and style of the third
(aiifM of C]iihJ(' UiU'ohl Wen.' caught from him and
'ii'ia.tly marred in the reproduction. It is a delicate
iiiatirr for one writer to charge aiiollu r Mitli lack of
< iT^inality, wIkmi the most original of thinkers, for
nine tenths of all their S(»-ealK'd original thoughts,
•Iraw upon the past. Bi'sides, every writer has the
li'ilit to use all that has gone before him, and if ho
hut a I Id one original idea to eveiy thousand borrowed

144

CRITICISM.

ideas liis labor is not in vain. Human cxpcrli-ncos
are fuiidecl, and every man that a})pears lias a li^lit
to a siiare. Savs Bulwer, " from that which time
has made clas.sical we cannot plagiarize."

How many of the best plots and plays are founded
U[)on classical myiholooy and ancient history '. From
a Grecian leijond of Hercules and tho IMi'inics Swift
derives his story of Gulliver. Shakes[)eare in J//(/-
smitiiicr y/(/lifs Dream has innumeral)le touches and
travesties like that from Ovid's metamor[)hoses of
Pvramus and Tliisbe. l)e Foe's novel is founded on
the ])ul)lished vo3'ages in 1712 of Woodes Kogers and
Edward Cooke, and the emlnyo llobinst)n Crusor; mny
be seen in tho Alexander Selkirk of Cai)tain Bur-
ney's narrative. Sec how tho story of Komeo and
Juliet has been handled. Shakc-speare is directly in-
debted for it to Arthur Brooke, who made a poetical
version of IBolsteau's novel RJiomeo and ,fnh'dl<(. Tlic
main incidents were obtained by Balsteau from a story
by Luigi da Porto, of Vicenza, called La (i'ndUlia,
and this closely resembles the Kplicxiaca of Ephesiu.s
Xeno[)hon. Under the title of Six Old I^hijjn on iHiich
Niukfi<j)('arc Foinidvd his Comedies published by S.
Li'acroft, of Charing Cross, was one of the samo
name from which the plot of Tamin;/ ffie Shrew was
taken, the induction being borrowed from Heuteru^i'
Jierinii Jiiir<jinid.

Few writers indeed are caught pursuing the oppiv
site course, that of attributing their own ideas to
others, like Xenoplion, who makes Socrates, his mas-
ter, the mouth-piece for many of his own conceptions.

« t

Style, which is the first thing an incxperienc( d
writer thinks of. and whi< h should be the last, is oft* u
made a handle for adverse criticism when all else fails.
A style consistent with the serious dignity of tin; suh-
ject may be sneered at as Johnsonian, or if it be nat
ural and easy, then it is cheap Engli.sh. In (juestious
of syntax, where the best authorities do not aurie,

STYLE.

115

rjxpcrK'nces
las a li.^lit
,vlucli tinio

[irc founded

Fr(

;uiks Swift
ire in Mhl-
,oucht'S and
orp] loses ot'
founded on
'Uo;j;ers and
Crusoe may
aptain Bur-
]von\eo and
; directly in-
le a poi'tical
nllcftd. The
from a story
Jm (llidktia,
of Epliosius

slied by S.
)f the sanio
e Slnrw was
u lleuterus'

iv^ tlic opi'o-
iwn ideas to
ites, his mas-

concel

itionr'

Inexpi'nenci il

last, isoftrii

all else fails.

tvof the Hul>-

if it IxMiat-

In (juestioiis

not ivn\c,

-4

nnd the writer is obliged to employ terms sanctioned
1)V one or the other, whichever course he takes lays
him open to the charge of solecism. In such hands
warrantable hyperbole is gross exaggeration, and
authorized antithesis, epigram, and metaphor, glaring
absurdities.

Style is in a measure to letters what dress is to the
hddv Men and women are more attractive wlieii
tastt 'fully attired than when clothed in rags or ill-
fitting garments; but as compared with the body, soul,
ur life of the person, dress is insignificant. So it is
with literary composition. Facts are more pleasing
when adorned with elegant diction ; but the arransjje-
iiirnt of the words in which ideas arc chtthed is of
little moment beside the magnitude and truthfulness
of the naked fact. Nevertheless, say what we will of
styli' in letters or in dress, it will have its influence,
Bejuity and symmetry appeal to the mind not less
stmiigly than truth and logic. Dress is admirable
111) k'ss than merit. Good clothes and a pleasing style
(ujitivate the multitude more than do shabby virtue
or liiiiiirly truths.

Again, elegance and comfort in dress are greatly to
1)0 dei^ired ; but what shaU we say of him who all day,
and every day, is conscious of his attire, who camK)t
lift liis mind above the cut of his coat or the fit of his
liiiiits; who thinks and si)eaks only of his raiment,
and who works or |)lays chiefly for the purpose of
ilisplayiiig his dress i In the various walks of life
tliriv are men who live by style; there are authors
wlio^r .iiiihition and efforts are all for style ; take from
tlicir writings style, and tln're is nothing left.

Tiiuc was when the ruler prescri'ietl the kind and
'|uality of dress each class should wear, the kind and
Mil ili; V of food each cdass should eat. In the eves of
' iitiiisiii, firm was everything in those davs. With
•I'Miiisoii and Dryden the manner was no less import-
ant llian the matter. While we of this latter-day
and h ss tiammell(>d literature do not despise rhythm

USSAYS AMI MlSCKLLANY 10

146

CRITICISM.

or lightly esteem beauty in the arrangement of \vor(]s,
sentiment and truth we deem of far higher importance.
Chaste imagery we admire, but clearness and eneigy
are indispensable. The truly sublime swallows ail
petty adornments.

Style is, however, something more than dress. It
is not the adaptation of thought to expression, nor
the adaptation of expression to thought. Style u
thought itself; expression is the man; it is character,
as well as cut of clothes and carriage. Qualities of
mind, form of physique, and every result of environ-
ment, no less than the blaze of words lighted by
thought, generate style, and are in turn moulded by
style. The attitude of the body under cogitation is
in a measure the outward or physical expression of
thought. Says La Brujere, " II n'y a rien de si deiju
de si simple, et do si imperceptible, oii il n'entre des
maniercs qui nous decelent. Un sot n'entre, ni iie
sort, ni ne s'assied. ni ne se love, ni ne se talt, ni n'ost
sur Ics jambes, eomme un homme d'esprit." " Tlie
style of an author should be the image of his mind,"
observes (^ribbon, "but the choice and command of
language is the fruit of exercise. Many experiments
were made before I could hit the middle tone between
a dull chronicle and a rhetorical declamation."

A true and natural style is the product of birth,
though it may be modified by education. It camint
be acquired any more than blood or brains. With tlic
p]>ysical and intellectual man, it may be refined l»y
culture; but it must be as the unfolding of a germ, as
the devek)pment of an innate quality, and not as a
creation or an adoption ; else it is not style the man,
but style the appearance, style the imitation. " In
honnnc qui ecrit bien," says Montesqueieu, "n'eciit
pas connne on dcrit ; mais connne il ecrit ; et c'est
souvent en parlant mal qu'il parle bien." Suppose
two writers should attempt to exchange their stylo,
that of both would be ruined. It would be worse
than exchanging coats; the probability is that one

STRONG SIMPLICITY.

147

would not fit the other. Tyndall's deHcate forms of
beauty, and Huxley's incisive wit and vivid pictur-
csqueness, would not suit the plain direct forma of
Darwin, whose thoughts spread themselves out on
paper in such logical sequence and with such effective-
ness, that from a mere statement of the facts arise
tlio clearest conclusions.

Tlicre are natural writers and there are artificial
writers. They are known by their works. Strong
is simplicity; strong the power of truthful words to
move 1 All great poets, Homer, Horace, ^schylus,
Sliakespeare, Tennyson, exercised this charmhig
power. The wisest of the ancients, feeling its superior
strength and having it not, affected it. Studied sim-
plicity of style seems to have been the effort of Plato.
For we are assured that the sentences which flow so
easily, and were apparently flung off nirrente calamo,
were, indeed, the result of prolonged elaboration.
Sainte-Beuve thanked the necessity which forced him
froin his ingrained mannerism into a style of strong
simplicity which every one could understand.

til

CHAPTER VII.

WORK.

Get leave to work
In this world, 'ti.:i tliu l)i;.st yon get at all;
ForCJotl, in cursing, gives us huttor gifis
Tiian men iu benediction. <!od say.s " Sweat
For forcheails;" men say "crowns"; and so we are crowned.
Ay, gashed by sonic toriiicnting circle of steel
Wliieli snaps with a secret spring. «ict work; get work;
Be sure 'tia better thu a what you work to got.

—Mrii Browninj.

The neces.sity to labor is generally reL^ardcd ast
an evil; the first and sum of evils; ottspriii.''
of the primal curse, spawn of Adamic transgres-
sion, born of the serpent which envenoms all,
which cradles humanity in thistles and thorns, aii<l
clothes us in (jallin*jj fetters, to be w^)rn 'midst sor-
row and sweat until the body returns to dust. It is
the severest punishment divine vengeance can con-
jure for the disobedient, the heaviest infliction al-
mighty power may lay U})on the seed of woman fur
her sin of curiosity. And the curse of curses, Cain's
curse, was that he should labor and reap no reward.

These precepts accord with our earliest impressions
of labor. The child abhors his task. It is neither
att'ection, food, nor any good gift of God ; an<l in-
stinctively he feels that it is not. It is a penalty ho
must pay, not having committed any crime ; a slavery
he must undergo, though free-born. Even brutes
blush, and hang their heads, when harnessed to man's
infelicities.

Enjoyment alone the creatures of a beneficent crea-
tor claim as their birthright. Thercjfore call \t
pleasure and the exercise is easy; wherc^as pleasni '
itself is painful if done as duty. In childhood, hov,
much of exertion and fatigue we lauuhinglv undergo

(148,

rLEASUUABLE, VS. ENFORCED LABOR.

149

are crowned,
t work;
Irowninj.

ogardcd a;^

transgrcK-
enoms all,
tlionis, and
'midst sor-
lust. It U
c can con-
Uotion al-
wouian for
SOS, Cain's
no reward,
impressions
is ncitlu>v
d ; and in-
penalty lu'
) ; a slavery
veil brutes
3d to man's

ficent crea-
tre call it
'as pleasut"
lliood, how
ly underg )

(148/

in the name of fun ; how intolerably dull and spirit-
crushing the slight labor-lesson our kind parent gives
us to learn. For the child at play winter has ne eokl,
nor is the longest, hottest summer's day wearisome;
hut over the light untinished task the songs of birds
St like heavily upon the ear, the fresh, fragrant breath
of lieaven is hateful, and the joyful sun-rays stinging
Hforpions.

In grown-up children wo see drawn the same dis-
tinctions. With what nervous delight the delicate
young woman dances the dark hours through, when,
wove those midnight whirls and ambles necessary or
useful, how terrible the infliction! Happy as a
beaver the young man rises before day for a ten-mile
tiauip over the hills for a possible shot at a deer,
wIru, did his breakfast every morning depend upon
siiuiliU' early and severe exertion, better die at once
than lvce[) up life at such a cost. Even old, prosaic,
})ia(tical men, and humdrum women, cheerful as
(inkling barn-fowl, every summer leave their home
(Dinfoits, their clean carpets and soft beds, their car-
iia;j;e, garden, and well-stored larder, their cosey
|)ail(tr and cool verandah, and go into voluntary
exile, become savage or at least sylvan while encamp-
iiiH' under the chaparral or buckeye, eating indigesti-
ble food, breathing the blistering air, and sweltering
t]nou;4h the shelterless day only at night to stretch
themselves with no small show of satisfaction upon
tlie tlea-and-fever-breoding earth, there to wait the
slow approach of sloop, while the mosquito's soft
soprano alternates with the loud contralto of the
sviiiiJathctic frojx. Wore this all done from necessitv,
what a wail would go heavenward over the bitterness
of tlieir lot. So by the simple name of sport do we
sweoteu the very dregs of drudgery.

Not only does the labor we delight in physic pain,
but such effort ceases to be labor in the sense here
used; that is, as a burden to be borne. Pleasures
pall, however, showing that therein we may not seek

:5,

Ml; :

160

WORK.

the highest good ; and men are sometimes driven to
do tilings useful through sheer ennui ; activity then
becomes delightful, and the necessity being removed,
it falls not under the curse; there are some whom
wealth and luxury cannot wholly debase.

In all industry, in commerce, agriculture, and man-
ufactures; in mechanical or intellectual pursuits, in
education and religion; by all mankind, throughout all
ages, it seems to have been tacitly implied that, how-
ever beneficial the result of labor, work per se is a
curse. It is something to be deplored; something
to be endured, rewarded ; and it is performed, for tln'
most part, in the hope and endeavor of ultimate relit f
from it. Who has not this hope, and what would life
be without it? How often we bear said, "When I
have so nmch money, when my new house is built,
my farm paid for, my daughters educated, my sons
settled, I will no longer tod in this fashion ; I will
rest; I will fling care to the winds, release brain,
nerves, and muscles from their life-long tension, take
a free look upward and outward, and live a little be-
fore I die." Alas! how seldom is this effected; or if
it be, how laborious this inactive waiting for death I

Anticipations are almost always more enjoyal)ii'
than realizations. The pleasures of hope enter into
labor to lighten it and relieve its hard lot with rose-
colored vistas. One shoulders a shovel, another a hod,
and early marches to melancholy exercise, foregoing
awhile the c(Mnpanionable pipe at the corner grocery,
in the expectation of cou])ling it later with a double
reward. The merchant finds in his profit a delightful
incentive to buying and selling. Nothing is sooiu r
suspected in a stranger than a display of disintercst( d
benevolence. The pioneer has a wider object in view,
when planting a home in the forest, than mere deliglt
in swinging an axe and seeing the chips fly. ClcariiiL]j
the ground, and ploughing, and planting arc but the
paths to that object.

While the aim sweetens the pursuit, it seldom does

TlIK CURSE OF IT.

151

sd sufficiently to render it desirable. Will anyone
wuutiiiL'' a house to shelter his family say to himself,
it is better for me to build it than that I should be
saved the trouble? Will anyone desiring a fortune
wliicli sliall give him rest for the remainder of his life,
which shall give him leisure for the pursuit of refining
tilts and pleasures, which shall give him the means of
milking ha[)|)y those he loves, of giving to the poor,
of building schools and churclics — will he say, better
f >r me to rack my brain and ply my fingers early in
tli(^ morning and late into the night, day after day for
twenty en- forty years, meanwhile kec[)ing my feet to
the treadmill, my eyes to the sordid oceu[»ation (,f
nioiiey-making, until with old age is frozen every gen-
erous impulse, shutting forever from my understand-
ing; all the God-given beauties and benefits that han*j'
like a starry canopy above my head to the very licm-
iiiing of my horizon; will he say, better for me to
cm lure all this, to sacrifice all this, and that, too,
while attended by a hundred necessary risks and ven-
tures, any one of which may wreck all, than to find
fortune ready-made, with a lifetime before me in
which to enjoy it?

Or if his soul hungers for the higher good, if, in-
ditferent to wealth and social distinction, tlioughts of
tlu! great Wiiat antl Whence and Whither urge him
to ;i more defined understanding of his being and sur-
roundings, and if, without the laborious accumulating
and analyzing of experiences, without days of nervous
investigating and long niglits of mental strain, scores
(if years of the severest study might be overleaped,
uiid the youth know as the sage, — would he not be a
(l.tic, an idiot, to refuse any Aladdin-lamp assistance,
on tlie ground that the sore travail of knowledge was
itself a blessing, the intellectual and moral faculties
thus aroused and exercised and developed, but other-
wist? non- existent or dormant, being more l)eneficial
than Minerva-births or other spontaneous results?

182

UORK.

; 1

This daily dead-lift of labor tliat walls every avenue
of progiess, tliat liaiigs like Dantiaii darkness ovt i'
ev(!ry cli'ort of as})iring intelligence, that lays ini-xor-
ably its burden upon the shoulder alike of o[)erative.
artisan, and clerk, of merchant and manufacturer, of
student and professor, of lawyer, doctor, and pn^acher —
will anyone say that it is a good thing, something hi
and of itself to be desired ?

In a word, is not labor regarded by mankind gener-
ally if not an absolute curse, yet less a blessing than
the absence of its necessity ?

Most assuredly.

And yet mankind is wrong. Else the creator is a
merciless tyrant, and creation a botch, or this great
a<;onv' of our existence is a blessing.

I know that one step farther carries our investiga-
tion beyontl its depths, and I do not propose to sj)ec-
ulate. 1 wish to confine myself to the plainest, simplest
view of the case, the proximate and practical ])arts of
these life-embracing anomalies being more than suffi-
cient to occujjy all our attention.

It requires no great keenness of observation, what-
ever one's creed or ethical code may be as to causations
and consequences, to see that nature is our master,
that she rules us with an iron hand, by unalterable
laws, to which it behooves us humbly to conform the
conduct of our lives. Nature is inexorable. Obey
her, and she is kind ; throw off allegiance, and she is
mercilessly cruel. Whether you know, or do not care
to know, or forget, break one of the least of her laws
and you suffer, and in proportion to the sin. Only
the savage sees smiles and frowns in nature ; the phil-
osopher fails to discover wherein the slightest par-
tiality has ever been shown a votary, the slightest
sentiment, or favoritism, or interposition, or yielding
under supplication. Rain falls upon the just and tlu'
unjust; fire burns God's martyr as surely as Satan's
servant. If I overreach the precipice too far in my

TllK NKCE.S.SI1Y OF IT.

15.1

( tfoit to rosfUo a f't'llow-lu'iiii^, I am dasliod in picci s
.IS sunly as if I fall in atteiiiptiiig iwciigt! u[uni an
ciiciiiy.

Ill naturo man finds his countorpart ; slicj is our
>4r( at ixaniplf! and teaclicr. If you would know tlic
|iiici' of liappincss, jjo to naturo; she will spnatl before
\-iAi a tru(! tataloguo of r('\vard.s and punishments. To
llic pinv.st codis of morality crueds are by no means
essential. Kvt ti reli»»ion asks not of man labor or
siiciifiee for nothing, and nature asks not this. Of
iiiitureand the sublimcst selfishness the liiglust ethics
uie built.

J^efore labor in any sense can bo called a curse, the
(coiinniv of nature must l)e changed, or the universe
he (idle<l a curse. All that have beint; labor, and bv
lalioi all was made that exists. Nature grows under
ivihnidant eneryv, with here and there convulsive
llirocs, — excesses wliich sent worlds a-whirlinu' into
^|lil(•(■ and there maintains then>, desi)ite all stiiving
\\>r reunion, for rest. This s< : ki'ig is the n:)rmal con-
dition of all'airs; for resti*r1v 1 ings a desire for fresh
actixity. Bodies in motion labor to be quiet; bodies
at rest labor to be in motion.

I lest is found in constant or varied activity. Such
is iiatuie's rest, (iod's rest, and man's only rest; night
liriii^s with it a restoration of the forces which have
hiMii expended during day. Death is called the
absolute repose, yet that most dreaded quietude can-
nut reet for rotting. It also is merely transmutation.

By work tiie universe is, and man. Force is all
lircvading, in our bodies and without; by it instinct
is and intellect, mind is made, and soul inq>lanted.
Xiitu re hinges on it; bv it winds blow, and the fer-
tiliziiig moisture is lifted from the ocean and diopped
uiKiii the hills; by it grass grows, flowers blooni; and
the sunbeam enters my window, else how without
Wdik shoukl it have come so far to greet me. The
mind eainiot conceive of a state of things whendn
all wiis absolute inactivity, breathh;oa immobility, rigid

s '

;:■;,

.;■

' ,■

15i

WORK.

rest. The tendency of t]iin<i,s is toward an unattain-
jil)lo equilibrium. Unrest alone is eternal.

So lahor is the normal condition of man as of
nature, both by will and from necessity. His inherent
cni!ri;y is significant of that destiny. If he wills not
to labor, necessity drives him to it; if necessity is
absent, the spirit of good or the demon of evil stirs
him to the accomplishnuait of he knows not what.
Beyond the vista of absolute rest lies chaos.

The most primitive and simple existence cannot be
maintained without work. The savage nmst dig
roots, pluck fruit, catch fisli, or pursue gan)e. He
nmst construct a shelter against the storm and tlic
insecurities of night, seek covering against the cold,
and ])r(>ptire weapons for onslaught upon wild beasts
or defence against hostile neighbors.

Disliking the task the male transfers it chiefly to
wives and slaves, and abandons himself to indolent
repose, or to agreeable pastime, to feats of strength
and valor, flattering to his conceit, and pleasing to
his appetites. In the tropics an over-indulgent natme
fosters this indulgence to excess. Toward the arctic
a harsher clime calls for greater exertion, especially
during certain seasons, in order to provide food, fiirl,
and other necessaries for the long winter. The alter-
nate rest and desultt^ry labor are alike marred by
risks and lKU'dshi[)s.

In the temperate zone man is relieved from many
of thi^so impediments and incubi, with the attendant
spasmodic exertion and enervating relaxation, l^otli
mind and body n^spond to the liberation by revel-
ing in the balmy and n^freshing atmosphere. AVitli
greater connnand of S(>lf comes wider enjoyment of
resources. Herein lies the precious gift from l!,o
prudently restrained generosity of nature, for produi ts
abound here on soil and in water, sufticient to permit
the savage to enjoy freely the dolcc far n'tcnte, as iu-

TIIE PLEASURE OF IT.

155

stancctl bv tlio iiborijjjiues of America and the nomads
lit" tlie Asiatic plains.

Nature is not exacting. Slie works incessantly for
lur children, and demands as a rule only a wlight ex-
i rtlon on their part to sustain the machinery of mind
iiiul body set in motion by lierself; but she imj)lants
loiij^iiigs and offers rewards for greater performance;
and to tlicse have responded best the less weighted or
bciiuiiibed energies of temperate regions.

A'anity leads to the quest for ornament and im-
proved covering. The hostility of neighbors, prompted
liv sex jealousy, greed, or pugnacity, calls not alone
t r weapons, but for fortifications, military bodies and
(ir;j,anizod communities. Thus comes good from evil.
Tlio gathering of large masses at one point, within
wall.'d camps, tended natunilly to the develoi>ment of
ii^ricultural and other industries. The inconvenience
n\' every man attending to every duty Kd to rapid
sululivision of labor, with a consequently gri'ater
offrctiveness in each branch, and to the unfolding of
traiJe, which, reaching in time to distant lands, brought
aUniit elevating intercourse and exchange of ideas
and resources.

Xot until Adam was driven from his paradisiacal
garden could he or his children have set out on a
piogressional journey. Perfect man is uniittcd for an
iiiqurfirt world; and imperfcjct man in paradise, it
seems, proved a failure.

Among advanced peoples most of the labor is often
inclosed not by nature but by expanding civiii/a-
tieii, which germinates in our passions and aspii-a-
tious. Herein the energy of progressive spirits and
leaders asserts its influence from the earliest stau:e,
111 setting example and giving proper direction to
tllorts. The aptitude of one inventive mind, and
Ills consequent success in attracting admiration or
attention, create emulation in others; and so with
superior dress, comforts, and enjoynuMits.

Ill time is reached a stage when the majority,

! ?

ik., n

156

WORK.

throusjjli organized govt'rmnont, imposes as obligation
the additional labor demanded bv the condition of
their culture. The man, who might be content witli
the bare cover, and the siHUitaneous products of the
soil, is ordered by statutes and bv the more imposing
mandates of society, under pain of disgrace and other
punishment, to provide decent chjthing, food, and
shelter for himself and family, and to educate his
children. Thus is laid upon civilized males a mani-
fold heavier burden than upon the savage.

Fortunately many attributes attend to lighten the
weight and sweeten the toil. The potency of the re-
ward is recognized. There is also inducen)ent in the
more assured enjoyment of }»r(>})erty and life, by
means of airriculture and other institutions of settled
life. Acquired taste for improvements lends s])urs tt»
their attainment. Habit assists to render labor en-
durable, and interesting, and growing skill give ease
to performance. Mere motion and exercise furnish
incentive to deeds, to improving intercourse, to lofty
aspirations. There is pleasure in the cliase, and ex
ercise connected with the game, aside from the pur-
suit itself. The man soon turns from his puerile
pastime to sterner sport or more sedate entertain-
nunt, yet he still feels animated by the action its( It".
He evin uid)ibes a preference for occupations lea(Hng
to a ])ractical and substantial end, the unprotitnl)K'
gn)wing distasteful. Many take a decided delight in
ganlening, building, repairing, as comj)arcd witli
siestas, pronjenades, and sjjorts. How irksome to
many is the duml)-bell performance, as contrasted
with tjie doubly useful wood-chopi)ing has been illus-
trated by the great English j)remier. Some find pleas-
ure in riding when connected with atock-raisinu or

nie

other useful

puqios(>
■eter scientitic 1

a, others for itself alone. So

ks to

novels,

As in play, labor can become moat pleasing when
not entirely compulsory, and herein lies the stronj:-
ost of motives, aside from the reward, for the eauir

THE BLESSINf} OF IT,

157

]iprsovorancc of fanners, merchants, and other solf-
ilcpciicUjnt ('hisses and employers. They are in a
iiit'iisure obliged to earn a livelihood, but ean at least
rtL;uhite operations to their taste and perha[)s to their
cijiivcnience. This soothing element is absent among
tli<" great mass of employers, and forms one of the
iiiiiin causes for dislike to labor. The restraint on
time, inclination, and procedure is objectionable. It
partakes of slavery, though w.untarily contracted.
No less distasteful is the idea that only a })ortion of
tlitir efforts is for personal benefit in the form of
wa'n s. the rest being absorbed bv another. Their
liiilin lies chiefly in the wages, to be used for inde-
l»rii(l('nt labor, pastime, or rest. Additional relief
iiikI incentive are brought by the exciting effect of
ri\;thy. Competition lends zest to the consideration
that, as work is unavoidable, it may best be performed
with s|»irit. The desire to complete a task is an im-
pulse, and still more so is the ambition to do it
wtll. perhaps to excel others in perfection as well as
siHcil. Tliis streiiijthens the wish to learn, to become
skilful, and to improve the limbs and senses by means
ot" which the work is accomplished.

After all it is in work itself, rather than in the ac-
(•i'iii|ilished result, that the true benefit of labor lies.
\Vr have been wrongly taught; nor is this the oidy
iii-;taiic(! wherein our teachers need instructing.

It is evident that by exercise organs and faculties
aliiiit' (h'velop. Tliis is the central principle; alike in
uiTucisal evolution and in in<lividual unfolding. Oi--
i.ni^ and organisms imj)rove according to use. The
hla;k-<niith iloes not accjuire strength to swing his
liam'u r l>y running foot-races, nor does the logician
hi'cniin! ju'oficient in subtle reasoning by counting
iiinni V or selhng bacon. Biml a lind) and it withers ;
I'ut nut one eye, and the other performs the work of
two. Min<l and nniscle alike grow, accjuin; stnMigth
and Llubticity by exorcise. Little is expected of the

■f

N 'I. ,■

158

WORK.

man who in youth was not sent to school or required
to work.

To this end exercise is encouraged ahke in children
and adults, often in dull bar or club movements, or
strained walkitiuf, wliieh lose nmeh of their value from
tlie associated distaste. A l)oat or bicycle miglit be
welcomed as more agreeable, and therefore also as
more beneficial, and many would find still greater sat-
isfaction in a task with practical results, in the fl()W( r
patch, the woodshed, or on the lawn ; the manual
worker, on his side, seeks discipline as well as relaxn-
tion for the mind in chess, or in some solid reading.
JNTany a craftsman would labor without recompense
in Iiis vocation ratlier than lose his cunning therein.
Efl'ort is always its own reward. Every well-directetl
blow sjfives stren<j:th to the arm and skill to the fintjers
equally, whether paid for or not. Better, indeetl, to
work for nothing and maintain in good condition tlie
digestive and other organs, rather than spend money
at the alehouse in spoiHng them. Laziness is sociiil
gangrene; like the sword of Hudibras, whicli ateinln
itself for lack of blood to eat, it is its own perdition.
Deplorable would be the aspect of humanity breeding
like maggots u[)on the putridity of ettbrtless existence.
The stoppage of work would bring about decay, retro-
gression to savagism, annihilation.

Labor, then, is improving, elevating, ennobling in
itself, l)esides bringing comfort and wealth, unfolding
civilization, and approximating toward tiiat perfection
which is the ideal alike of the individual and of on-
ward-pushing society. This applies only to weil-
directed la])or, for the spasmodic efibrts of the savii-c
yield but temporary benefits as cotnpared with ])vo-
gressive and enduring operations of civilized connim-
nities. Nor would the finished results o( the latter,
in machinery, silks, and books, be appreciated by tlic
other.

From this aspect the possession of inherited wealih

QUALITIES OF LABOR.

1S8

Si'ldom confers tlie liaj)[)inoss wl»ich is so widely asso-
( iated with it. The absence of an inspiring ahn, sucli,
tiir instance, as led the pioneers of tlie west to build
up ini})osing and flourisliing commonwealths, relaxes
the iiiergy, con<hiccs to misdirected and abortive ex-
cition, and impairs the power of mind and body, un-
litting them for the proper or full enjoyment of life.
I Measure nauseates; labor likewise is uncongenial from
lack of will and skill, and the victim sinks, an invalid,
into ennui.

I Hind pursuit of wealth is no less debasing than the
])assionate searcji for i)leasures. The one is ex[)ected
to follow in the wake of the other. As if in accord
with some hidden principle in tlui economy of nature,
the miserly sire is often succeedoil by a s[)(;ndthrift
JR'ir; the jiushing man of business leaves an indok^nt
SOI), tlie genius a cominoii[)]ace oflspring. Excessive
ciu'i'gy spends itst>lf, or \vt>akens the organs upon
wliicli falls the drain. Likewise the aspirations an>l
d(>sires unduly restrained at one period burst forth at
another in over indulgence. The predilections of one
'jcncration find their balancing bents in anotlier. In-
tellectual revival follows a long period of material
jirosperity. Surfeited with gold, even Midas remom-
l)crs his mind, and turns it to some new enjoyment.

There is much talk about honorable or dishonorable
degrees in labor, manual and mental, menial and in-
(lejH-ndent, cheap and dear. Cheaj) labor is no more
• legiading than dear labor. No labor is degradinj»'.
It all contributes to the well-being of mankiiul and
the advancement of civilization directly or indirectlv.
»Soiiie kinds of labor are more elevating, more improv-
in:4', more refining than others, but all are honorable.
The literary and scientific pursuits which expand the
inind and enlarge the soul are naturally to be; preferred
to handling a shovel or cobbling shoes, and the superior
knowlc^dgc and skill which adapts the possessor for
such tasks confer a certain advantage over those less

160

WORK.

favored ; vet to class the inferior work as humiliatinuf
is wroiiL!;, sin* o labor aims at a benefit, jpcr sr and in
its results. Again, some kinds of work are liglit and
pleasant, otiiers i)ainful ; others, by reason of collateral
conditions, unwliolesoine; excessive labor is always
disajjjreiable. The duties of the i»hvsician are in some
respects unpleasaiit, but no one thinks of calling them
degradinij^. But for the benefit arising from the care-
ful exnmination of the exquisite anatomy of tho
human body, the dissecting of dead men would bo
about as revolting an occupation as the mind could
imagine.

In its repute labor has undergone many fluctua-
tions, from the character of those to whom particular
branch(\s have been assigne<l. Thus the descendants
of S})anish conquerors in America consigned tillage
and other hard tasks to enslaved Indians, and recjarded
it as derogatorv to their diirnitv to join therein. Yet
not in the labor which Virujil framed in silowinn' verso,
and for whicli Cincimiatus abandoned the dictator-
ship, lay the stigma, but in the association with tlu^st'
who [>erformed it.

Labor has steadily risen in estimation with tho
elevation of its votaries. Compare the present con-
dition of the farmer and plough-boy of America with
that of their serf predecessors of feudal times, and
the position of the merciiant class of to-day with that
of the period when the wielder of the sword alono
enjoyed repute above ignoble connnoners. ^J'he riso
is proportiouiite to democratic ascendancy, as illus-
trated in particular in the United States. Tho equali-
zation of classes, and in a measures therefore of labor,
was never more strikingly depicted than during tho
early mining fevers on the Pacific coast, when scien-
tist and jurist worked side by side with artisan
and hiborer in common pursuit of gold, and joinc>d on
e(|ual terms in every pliase of life. Labor was deified.
The possibilities opened in this land to pure energy,
the caprices of fortune in distributing her resources,

KVILS OF KXCES.S.

161

aiul the general participation in politics, tend to sus-
tiiiii that cquaHty to a j^reat extent.

The Spanish view of Indian labor has found a
parallel on this coast in Mongolian competition, which,
1(V the liuniiliating association of a lower race, is
iiiaking distasteful to Anglo-Saxons diiferent branches
n\ labor. It is claimed that by its i)olitical and social
liiws the nation iini)oses upon the latter a high stand-
ard of living, inclmUng the rearing and education of
tamilics, which cannot be well maintained if a class
(if uiiuiarried men, free from such ties and obligation,
and accustomed to a cheap mode of life be allowed
to (Microacii u))on their resources.

Much is said in tliese latter days about overwork.
(U' course excess of any kind is an ( vil ; and the
;;rrattr t])e blessing, the greater the curse when car-
ried too far. Vet there is much less overwoi'k than
many would have us believe; nmch less overwork
tliaii overreaching. It is worry that kills men, not
work. The harassing cares of overstrained business,
tlic siia])ping of hungry hounds who follow at tlie
heels of the unwarv, the burninu's of icalousv, stock
^anil»liiig, and the demon drink, extra vaganci- in dress
and liviiiLC these arc what wear life awav. With the
uiressaiy food and raiment, and rest, work never in-
jures anyone.

The student slu)uld not neglect physical exercise,
'ir ilie laboring or business man intellectual culture.
\\ "ik mav be varied with ureat advanta«''e. Indeed
a cliange of work is the best kind of rest. The
liiuliest attainment comes only with the proper de-
vi lopnient of l)oth mind and Ixxly. Either exercised
unduly brings weakness upon the other. In this
si nsc overwork signifies simply tlie neglect of duo
I'nrautions and adjuncts for carrying out the main
tiisk, Severe injury is frequently incurred by injudi-
'i"Us lifting <»f a weight which with care or proper
''I'liliaiiees could be handled with ease.

KhSAYS AND MlNCKLLANV 11

162

WORK.

if:

The development of a community depends upon the
knowledi^e, disposition, and ai)titude of its members,
rather than upon natural advantages. The law of
work i)artakes of the inmmtable in nature's laws.
TJie chief condition for success is work. Honest,
well-diiected effort is as sure to succeed as the swell-
\i\[l rivulet is sure U) find for itself a channel. Let
tlie wage- worker also take heart, liave patience, and
])ersevere, laboring not as in the presence of a tusk
master, whom to defraud by perfunctory services wciv
a gain ; but remend)ering that every good dcvd is done
for himself, and makes him stronger, healthier, wisi'i'.
nobler, whether performed in the dark or in the br<i;ul
light of o[Hn day.

Every subterfuge, slight, or cheat is sure to react
on the performer. The sliop or ofiice is but the cru-
cible j!i which his metal is to be tried, the work tlir
anvil u))on which with his (»wn arms he hannners
out his cliaracter, his daily duties the nutuld in \\ iicli
his destiny is shaj)ed. The s})irit in which his dutii s
are done gives form and <lircction to his future life: it
makes or unmakes him for all time. Tlu' re]>utati'>ii
acquired among his comrades is likely to be a tni'
estimate of his character. From the incipient stagt s
of a business career ])roceed natural results, and tlw
bad beginnings make good endings. A course of cK-
ception can never lead to success. "Nemo onnics,
neminem omnes fefellerunt," observes the youii'^Li'
Pliny.

Cliaracter will not be hidden. It shows itself in
gait and garments ; it shines through the gossamer ef
features and is woven into <^)bservation by the fingers.
Even the contour of a man, his back towards yeu
speaks volumes, and the very atmosphere surround-
ing him breathes of his occu])ation, be it of shoji.
pulpit, or the courtroom. Confine ignited gunpowdor
in a rock; smother Vesuvius with a handful of aslns;
but do not attempt the r61e of the foolish ostrich which
thrusts its head under a leaf to hide itself withal.

SUCCE.SS AXU FAILURE.

1G3

Tlie appreciation by parents of early training for a
career, no less for inculcating industrious habits than
for acquiring knowledge of a business, is manifest in
tlie widely prevalent custom of binding boys to a
trade or profession, often paying for ti»e privilege.
With the improvement of character, mind, and limbs
should be united the desire to elevate the vocation,
itiid to study the employer's interest as a duty to one's
own honor and unfolding, no less than in just fulfil-
iiviit of agreements.

Conscientious performance of obligations will com-
iiiaiid alike esteem and success. Failure arises from
not doing work rather than not havhig work to do.
Ijiving ill a poorer country than the Ignited States
(roethe says, " Ich liabe gesehen, so lange einer lel)t
iind sicli rlilirt, findet er hnmer seine Nahrung, und
wiMiii sie audi gleicli nicht d'lo reichlichstc ist. Und
wtiiiher lial)t ihr euch denn zu beschweren."

Kear Teufclsdrockh rant in Sartor Rrsarff(s.
"Tools! Thou hast no tools? Why, there is not a
man or a thing now live but has tools. The basest
of created animalcules, the spider itself has a spinning-
jenny, and warping-mill, and power-loom within its
held; the stupidest of oysters has a papin's digestion,
with stone and lime house to hold it in. Every being
that can live can do something ; this let him do.
Tools? Hast thou not a brain furnished, furnishable
with some Ljliinmerings of lioht; and three finijers to
hold a pen withal? Never sin-e Aaron's rod went
out of practice, or even before it, was there such a
wond(!r-workin«jr tool ; i^reater than all recorded mira-
clos have been performed by pens."

Lot the young man remember he will be rated at
his W(^rth; of this let him have no fear. Be the night
never so dark in which he does virtuously ; be the
solitude never so dense in which he performs more
than his allotted task ; be the thoughts never so se-
erot which come from a mind occupied with another's
welfare, from a mind pondering on improvement, on

WORK.

the more complete surrender <»f self to a nmnly suc-
cess; he need not fear lest any of these fall to the
jL^round ; his own head and heart alone retain sufficient
benefits from his high aspirations.

To him who does his best life is no venture. Among
human possibilities the youth may make of himself
what he will. There is no uncertainty about it. It
may be reduced to a simple mathematical or chemical
[•roposition. To so nmny pounds of common-sense
add so many ounces of honesty, mix it with a certain
amount of ener<^y, and bake it over a slow fire in tlu'
uven of human experience, and the bread so fermented
shall make fat the nation.

ll ' ' ?

ijt /
in ^

Still further may be discussed the benefits of labor
apart from its fruits, its abstract qualities and its in-
dividual relationship to human progress in the econo-
my of the universe ; but enough has been said to show
the fact tliat work of itself is a blessing rather than a
curse. If it fall heavily at tunes the cause lies in
man's ambition, and tlie artificial demands of society
with its cumulating obligations. The civilization wliicli
has in)posed tlie excess is also continually striving to re-
tluce it by means of inventions, of subdivision, coopera-
tion, and other methods of organization. Machinery, in
particular, lias relieved man of the most severe and
difficult tasks, and is daily lightening his toil. It lias
also lessened the hours of labor, giving wider oppor-
tunity for the enjoyment of the fast multiplying com-
forts and entertainments provided from that same
source, and leisure for improvement in those arts
which assist the individual to bear his burden bettt-r,
and to advance society toward the millennial stai^^e
when work shall be generally appreciated as a bless-
ing unalloyed.

CHAPTER VIII.

BATTRK LK KKU sVli L'KNCLUME.
Non est are, quae a<l uffcctuiii casu veiiit.

— Sevfrii.

SicoKss and failure in life are not accidents. Suc-
<'ess 8[)rings from natural causes, and follows funda-
mental rules. There must be the implanted germ
and tlie developing environment. The necessary con-
ditions are often deficient, but every person may suc-
ceed to a greater or less extent in some direction.

True success must be restricted to that which not
only strengthens the mind and body and morals of
till' person directly seeking it, but which brings a
ItciR'fit of greater or less degree to every member of
the society in which that person lives.

Success is not wholly free from its hypocrisies.
Often it coiiies to us disguised ; often we pursue the
shadow of it while the substance is with us. Many
have achieved success who deemed their lives failures;
many failures have been made by those who regard
their lives successful. It is altogether as men meas-
ure success; whether in wealth, virtue, fame, fashion,
or wickedness. Aspiration leading to effort thougii
attended by .seeming failure, is sometimes success,,
whih' effortless success may be failure; for one carries
witi 1 it improvement, development, increase of strength,
tile other weakness and decay.

It is not unconmion to hear those who have
achieved success in any one of the paths of industry
rail at their less fortunate neighbor, and attribute the
cause of disappointment to some radical defect of

( i«!> )

166

BATTRK LB ¥VJ{ SIR LENlLUME.

;£)■ ' i

!♦ 3

character. In their eyes defeat carries with it prima
facie evi(l(!uce of defect. Tiie unfortunate man i.s a
visionary, who tircams life away in idle; speculation ;
or an enthusiast, who, without fortityiiii; his premises
by sound conniion sense, rushes headlon;^ on false
conclusions; or a sciiiincr, wasting his time in
futile attempts at j^reat thin<;s, when moderate ef-
forts would 1)«! attended by more beneficial results.
Brimful of the elements of success themselves, it is
impossible for them to comprehend a nature so organ-
izetl as iKtt to [(ossess these elements, or to restrain
their virtuous indignation. \ man lias no business
to bo unsuccessful; failure is a fault, and penury a
crime.

In one sense this is tru(\ but seldom do those solt-
satistied autocrats take the trouble to in(|uire what
success is, and what failure. It is taken Ibr granted
that the prosperous issue of whatever they may have
attempted, the attainment of whatever may have Leen
their desires, is the sum of nn-riti'd good fortune to
themselves, and the best that coulil happen to man-
kind. It is generallv understood that the man makes
the most of himself who, if he be a lawyer or a iloc-
tor, enjoys a lucrative practice ; if a clergyman, fills
the largest church ; or, if a man of business, accumu-
lates a fortune. This is true only in part; the s|»ee(.-
ing of our faculties is but a necessary preparation
before we are entitled to a place even among the com-
petitors for a prize. Were there no attem])ts excipt
such as promised success: were all non-successful t t-
forts lost, this were a different world. Success, or
>vhat we have learned to look u|»on as success, is gen-
erally so insignificant, so unsatisfying, so slight in
value to ourselves or others — sometimes indeed the
greatest evil — that if in the accoiuplishment of our
desires, the consummation of our purposes, was found
the only benefit, as well might the holder of the uni-
verse withdraw his arm and let chaos come again, f<»r
in no surer way could mankind be sent swiftly to
destruction.

SUCfK.sS THAT IS NOT .SUtCE.SS.

191

Well uiulorstoud i.s tlio ovil attoiul'miX tho attain-
iiiiiit cf liis j^oal l)y tilt' tyrant, tlii' blindly aml)itiou8
s.ildiir, the nuichiavclliau Htatcsiiiaii. In aj^j^rcssivo
ctlorts the loser must Rutror iiutro or less severely, al-
thoU'L^li the winncrniay find victory disastrous, Sueli
stniLjijlt's for mastery are constant in (tur midst, tho
y>>Ui' and jjjamester iit society, tin; unscru[)ulous spcc-
ilator in Wusiness, alike hrinj^iny; sutl'erinj^; to otiiers.

Winninf^ money at play ; LCamhliiiL? in mining stocks,
ill wlu'at or other mei'cliandise, and in ^ecnritit■s; ori;;;i-
natiiiL,^ and mani[)ulatin^ mono[>olie,s which t)perate
unjustly upon a portion of the ])eople — those and tho
;iccom[ilislimeut of like imj)ositions cann(»t he consid-
ered in conncctit)U with true success, thou)j;h they
liriii'^ into tlic pocket their millions, jiiid friends and
sycoiihants hy the thousands, and seek an atonim^ miiso
iu tlie ituildiiin' of churches, hospitals, and otht-r henevo-
I'lit ('Iforts,

Tiie politician who secures ]>lace at the cost of man-
hood, and the teacher, clerical or literary, who pan-
dors to popular taste instead of }>i'omuln'atini;' unjiala-
t.ihle truths, or |iarades dead forms in o[)position to
living; facts, no less than the ah^orhcd monry-makcr,
sell their souls to slavery, and im[»eril the ]>rospects of
themselves and their neighbors for a momentary ^ain.

Yet hy the peo[)lo these fools are flattered until
they learn to despise their flattt'rcrs. The country,
the world, is no better for their haviuLT lived in it.
Men njiiy ac(juire the power that money buys, but if
their influence be such as to lower the standard of
public morals, to forgo fetters for unfolding intellect,
>ir to advance nmmmon in opposition to mind, tht>ir
iiroad(!st successes arc but brilliant failures. From
tho [)uddlcs of politics, and mammon ditches and ec-
clesiastic marshes, rise human ins(>ctivora with feelers
and suckers and pincers ready for victims, most
voijicious in their appetite, preying on each other like
moil who cat men, for there are human insects in so-
cial life as elsewhere.

rns

KATTRK LK KKK SL!l l/KNTLUMK

Even the general aecoinplisliiiieiit of wishes by hon.
orable and legitunate nieuiis would he (H]uivaleiit to
failure thr(>U!»:h the verv uiiiversalitv of the success.
If all obtained the riches sighed for, or the honors
sought, these would become worthless and leave the
uainer no better off than hefore.

While considering the time honored way to success,
we must remember that many have found what they
sought, taking another course. Yet he who steps
aside from the beaten path must expect a rough road,
with brand)les and pitfalls ; he may be many times
discomfited, driven back, and perhaps, finally »>vi'rcome;
hut uhis is prctgress. We of to-day are greatly in-
debted to mechanical inventions; our usefulness and
our comfort are increased thereby a hundred fold.
Vet the [latent office shows that for every success
there an; a thousand failures. Success comes from at-
tem[)ts ; without attempts there could b(^ no successes.
Now in the very nature; of things there must be moro
attem[)ts than successes, so that, sjttuiking broadly,
every success is the result of a multitude of failures

Life consists, then, not s«)nmch in endsas in eftbrts;
antl often less in what a man does than in what ln'
attenn»ts t(» do. The sum of Jiuman accom]>lishn*cnr
bears but a small proportion to the sum of human
efibrts. All this is well for progress, for un(U>rtaking>
aiv more civilizing than successes. Attempts surpass
results; this giand civilization of ours is a [iressinu
forward, not a rest, just as philosophy is a search after
truth, rather than truth itself

He who fails in attempting great things often
achieves tlu' grandest success. It is not in dciii'^
some things as well as they have been done befoiv
tliat civilization is })i'omote(l, but in doing one thing
better than it has ever before been done, or bv doin.;
.something that has n<^V(T before been done. Cohun-
bus did not find the India he sought ; but were n'>t
his voNUges a success ?

MIS r >l [{ K( TKI > KFFOUTS.

must be iiioi*

iin of liuinan

Mupts surjiiis-.
is a [)ressin.:
a search after

not 111 «l<'m'.

but weiv 11' >t

After all it is hardly worth while to talk of the
luiserv atteiidiiior jrreat failures. There is no hiirher
lia)>iiiness hi store for certain souls with broad am-
hition than these very embarrassments. Only ignoble
attinijtts brins;' misery. There is a charm attendini'"
virtuous misfortune, bv which the success of mere
aci-ident is shamed.

Tlun let each have heart to ?abor while he may,
kiiowinu that not one jot shall fail purposeless to the
<4rt>uiMl: that every blow struck by his puny arm is
felt ill the vil>rationsof a universe; that every thou«_dit
of liis i)oor uiiderstandiniT, everv emotion of his lovinyr
ami liatiii'j,' heart, sends a throb throuj^h the eternal
a.;vs of intelligence. For he, even he, is part of this
.;rt'at universe, an inseparable, ineradicable part ; mind,
soul, iu'ing, one with the eternal.

Science tells US that in the univei'se of matter there
i> iitvei- an atom made or unmade ; that the molecule
no iiiiii*' than the mass can dro[) out of its [»lace and
he lost in absolute void ; that not an iota of force can
he cioated or uncreated ; that there is no such thing
us ori'>iiuitinu" or annihilatiiiijf i)otential enerijv aiiv
nil in' than fuiulaniental eli'ments of nmtter. Force.
t!i( n, is a positive existing something, incapable of ad-
dition or subtraction.

I'^ojlowiiig up this idea, and have we not every rea-
son to conclude that the highest, the bright( .st, ti "
most ch'ctric of all forces, lifi', soul, intellect, when
|iin|Mrly exen'ised. live in tlu'ir results; thai the con-
>i(|iicnt thought, motion, being, are indestructible
.iiitl eternal in their essentials, come from some source
.i!i(l ( scape tcisome boiii'lK'. W misdirected, the etl'ei-t
of the oiiiotion upini ourselves and others may be in-
jiiridus or tleeting; the idea born of thought may dis-
snlvo without leaving a trace; the eelibate who ni>g-
I'ctstorear a progeny passes unevolved into food alone
tor lower organisms. A blow may s[)end itself in aii-,
or it iiiav eut off" a dvnastv or agitate a nation. The
true idea is, emotion nn[)resses itself from generation

170

liATTKK I.K FKR SUR l/KNCLUMK.

to <^(!norati(>ii in evcr-widcniiiijj expansion, tlio iriccn-
tivx' to L^'cat acliic vcnuMits. Taking; t'oiin. tlio idci
transmits its jj^orni for i^randcr unt'oldinij;' in t'utuiv
a'jjcs, oven failures assistin*? !•>' tlieir pointed lesson-
to smooth the path toi' sueeesscs. The idea of tli'
im[)r{)ved mind s])rin!j;s from a richer soil than that <>''
the uncultured sa\a«;t'.

}{o\v little of orif^inality iscontainc<l in the so-( alji i.
new ideas. At their hest tlu'V seldom pass heyoii'i
an additional \v'u\<f to the existing ecHlicc;. Yet, as w
foi-in new ctMnhijiations of matter, and say we ha\i
caused thes(! plants to ;_;r'o\v or ma<lt> this house or
this machine, in reality we only ehan'.-e the f(trm <
particles already made, a few of the <_'Tander con-
ce[itions sprin;j,in'4" like new ci'eations tVom the mimii
g(M'ms of the jiast. ( )riL;inality in literature ms eK,
where istherefoica re-arranjjfinerMtJier than aci'eatin-

How feeble, withal, is the uidoldin;^! What ai
all our schools, our printin<j,' presses, our pulpits, l>ii;
hellows f )r fanninijf the liame, which eKe would di^ '
W^ith all the eniiinerv of a''t\s emiilox'ed in inoculai-
injjj th(! youn;^; with what the dyin-^' old <-an hy iv
shoi'tei' process l»e(|Ueath to tlu'm. how >n'4hl: the ai!-
vance I Cease these nieiius, and how laj'id the rel ; -
gression. JL;iiorance hreeils.

NeNcrtheless. advancement is assured, and JK
prospe-tive Lifrandeur mav I >e judged Ky our presinf
sliortconiine-s. Is the tiiir earth made fairer hy nuin :
are pi'im orchards, and clean tields, and cold hail
nii'tals for us(\ ornament, and cuneticy. recompeii-<
sulHcient for n)utilaled forests ;ind disemi)owel|r.|
sierras i With all our hoast<'d cultivatinL*' and reliniM^
we cannot improve upon tin; lily, nor make the swi ■ '
air sweeter, nor a ray of sunshiiu' hri^^hter. W '
nuiddle with the handiwork of onmij)otence in a crml'
striving for perfection, to r< gain with Plato the id' -il
type. Herein lies power enough hehind our intelint
to drive it on to eternal activities, willing or unwilling
But there an' also other impulses, without which f w

EFFECT OF EFFORT.

171

wnuld nu)Vo or beconio imlmcd witli that loftier in-

centive.

Wlifit Ijnine and f()rei;jju foes are to tli(> life; of the
iiatitiii. so tlie daily strangles for existenee, and the
aiitaLjonisiiis which attend them, are to tin; life of
tlic individual, lieinove fi'oni humanity the atnios-

Kijr |)it'ssure of want and calamity, and the orLianisni

<_f so closclv

is straightway rent asuntler. Nothin
(Tincnts one to his higher destiny as necessity, witli
\\< coijodin;.;' cart'. Social phenomena, under whatso-
r\ti' form or |»hasc nianltcstrd, while seekiii;.;" thcii-
snutc(! in the intellectual foice expressed hy human
societies and inchxiihials of rcmot*' times, pass on to
c\eit a moulihni;- intluencc of perhaps still greater ini-
|M>it upon the future.

We have seen that the benefit of labor lit'S not more
in tlie fruits of lalior tl .i. in the ctlects of laboi- on

tli<' laiiorei'. ( Jolds lu.-

•mes troin use

IS or

tlaiiii'd that in the use of our liml»sand faculties, and
ill their use alone, there isdeveldpuK nt. Dill, whether
direct or iiuhii'ct the re>-ults, by t hese alone must every
liuiiiaii life he measured. in the <'entre of an all-
pi. nhiein^- universe, man the fruit of all must yet
liear I'luit. It is the ine\(»rable rule of })er[Ktuation,

111 ar <>r cease to Ik

r iiia\' We pass li\- as \ (ii(

I of

resulls the lives of that, ureat ar.ny of workers ^\llo
'in <in\vn to their foriiiei' dii.st, leaving' their miliious
lit' unrecorded t llbrts, such as we are accustomed to
ti nil fruitless. Nolmiiesi, we!l-dii'ectcd elfort is ever*

tVuitJess. We ma\ not be able to see the results, N'et

the results »'\ist; tli(> fruit may not a|»pear until cen-
turies after tli(: seed was planted; yet all the experi-
cnc( s hy which (Mimes our later succi'ss are horn,
;iiiMii'4 (»thers, of these so-called fruitless ellbrts, as we
liave elsewhere seen.

liiteiature is the aecident rather than the object of
lilt', and being couith'd with some collateral oecu{)ation

17:

HATTRK LK FF.K SLR LKNt'LUMK.

by moans of wliidi livolili()()«l and leisure are obtained,
l>(>oks are produced not in j)roi)ortion to the demand,
but in accordance with the will and ability of men to
gratify their }>leasure or vanity by thrusting their
ideas upon the public. Hence it is that literary labor
is the poorest paid of all labor, and often a jioorer class
of labor is better paid than a superior kind.

It is rash to talk of making literature a profession,
Sucji as it is. it comes of its own volition, making its
Mttary rather than being madi* by him. A journalist
may write for one dollar or for ten dollars a day what
certain people like best to read, and so make journal-
ism a Imsiness. In certain (juarters professors! i ins ot'
books and readini; are spoken of Instead of Icavinu
the mind to the natural dir<'cti<»n of itsa[)petitt;, cvtrv
particle of food must be ]»rescrlbed by a physician.
But wlio is to direct this director f While <jfuidan<'t
is well for the young and inexprrienccd, nolliinu
sooner destroys healthy appetite and stifles the natural
exercise of the facultiis than undue interference.

"The truth," says Hammert«>n, "seems to be that
literature of the highest kuid can oidy in the most
exceptional cases be made a [)rofession, yet thai ;>
skilful writer may use his pen professionally if he
chooses. The production of the printed talk o^ the
day is a profession, recjuiring no more than average
ability, and the tone and ti'nijier of ordinary educat((l
men. The outcome of it is journalism and magazine
writing."

Amt»ng those who claimed that literature shoul<l
not be followed as a vocation, but ratlu>r as a ))astinie,
were Seott, Suuthey, Berangir, and numy otliei-
This (lei>ends, however, on the strength of the writt »
If on(> can write like Scott, t»ne need not di<' in debt

Byron und-'istood p«tetrv to be ati art. an attribuli'.
but scouted the idea ef calling it a j>r(»fession. I *l<'
liot s;iy that mereenai'v bookwriting is not, or caniiet
be follout'd ill some degree as a profession, but this
is by no lacuuo the higher kind of authorslii[>. Cur

SUCCESS IN LITKUATUKK

178

Mt' says: "His is a hij^li, laborious, uiiroquitod, or

..iilv si'lf-requitcd endeavor; wliicli, iiowovi'r, by the

hiw of his boiiig, he is compelled to undertake, and

must prevail in, or he permanently wretched ; nay, the

more wretched, the nobler his gifts are. For i*^^ is

tin' deep, inborn elaini of his whole spiritual njiture.

and will not, and must n<tt tjjo unanswered. His

\(iuthf"ul unrest, that ' unrest of ociiius,' often so wav-

ward in its charaeter, is the dim anticipatioii of this;

tlie mysterious, ali-})owerful mandate, as from h(>aven,

Til ]»r('j)are himself, to purify himself, for the vocation

wlierewitli he is called." Few real jtoets Jiave tliat

iiisiifiable craving for fame which lias bt'cn s«», ofteii

iittrii)utcd t() them. A poi't knows himself to be a [>oet.

.uid therewith is usuallv <'oMtcnt. The bettiT class of

tlicm write as birds sing, liecausi- they cannot heli> it.

Jouinalism and book-writing are ditt'erent o(cupa-

tiiins. and a pi^rson may i)e Htted for one and not for

the other. Tiie cHbrt of tiie jourri'dist is a play upon

transient [xjjiular feeling; it is njoinentarv morning or

(.'Vening gossiji, to be read and forgotten; the aim of

tin' wi'iter of books is to makti a careful sel 'ction of

liis tacts and to arrange tluMu in a suitalile fctrm for

jTiiiiaiu'nt use!. It does not follow that because a

iii-iM has the ability and jiaticnu't; to gather, sift, Jind

. lassily historical data, h" can therefore writ«.' a good

tiia-a/ine aiticle. The talents and training iiee(h'd for

niic are ditt'erent from those which find sueei'ss in tiie

.'tIki, Herein many havi.; failed, not knowing why.

T!i<if is a wid(( difleronce even in the <jualitios reipiircd

fi>r "laborating at leisure a review, and ti;rowing (,»IVon

til-' instant a leader or a local for a daily j(»urnal.

l']ialioi*ati(»n ma\" be, perliaps. tlu; merit ot one and a

taiilt of the oilier.

Ill the first numlur of the Wr.^li/u'ush r L'< ri( ir is an
taalysis by James Mill of the n)«>re importiint writ-
.iii'.s [.'ulilished in the l^diiihiiri/l/ h'trifir from its be-
•.ritiiiinL;. wliicli pro(hh'ed no small sensation at the
tiiiic xVuiung other things he poiuted out the fact

174

I5ATTUK IJ-, FKll sill LENCLL'.Mi:

■:.^M

that pei'lotlical literature, unlike books, Jimst succocd
iinincdiatt'ly if at all, and liciico must be of a popul.-n-
ratlior than of a jxTuianent cliaractor. It must, in
o'oui'ral, iiaiulcr to tlu; public, taste rather than attem|)t
tf) reform it. Hunee lioncsty must be sacrificed t)
ixilicy, truthfulness to success.

Com[iared with the numbe'i' of books writttMi, hut
few of them are the jti-oducts of what mi^ht be called
skilled labf)r. J^onk-writiivj; for the most ])art is the
work of amateurs. Few write books wii<» have not
some other occupation; few adnpt autliorship as a
business; few devote theii" whole time to the writing'
of books. "Oh tliou who art able to write a book,'
exclaims Teufelsdrockh, "which once in the two c( ii-
turies oi' oftener there is a man gifted to do, eu\ v iiel
him whom tluN- nanit; cii \-builder and inexpressililv
pitv iiim whom tln-v nac.-.e roiKjuei'or, i»r city-burm r.
'I'hou, too. art a con(|uerer and victor; but of the true
soj'l. namely over the devil. Thou, tiH>. hast built
wliut will outlast all marble and metal, and 1k> a woii-
der-brin«'inu" < itv of the mind, a temple and semiuaiv
and )-)o|)lietic mount, whereto all kindreils vi the
earth will pil«..^iim."

Kntl

lusiasm intensf , in IIk! ♦■yes of some insaix

undiMli'S all li'i'^at things, all yfoo/l woi-k. What will
not fanaticism d(» for a man '. If he huiiu'crs, it feeils
him: if lie be ('(,1(1. it warms him ; " b 'ou^ht to m.n-

tvr

(ioin. 1

t 1
•l

»eai

s liim to liappier realm

o >nHHl

lit-

erai v woi'k (Mithusiasm is essential : fanaticism, fat;

To 1

tuoyed U|i and carried hapj)ily forward ahovc

storms and o

utfetii

id at the same time to li.ivi

suthcieiit coolness, caution, and mental balance left to

avoid the maelstroiiis or excess so destructive to \ru-
turcsome vovau-ers on untried .seas- this is to lu'cseivo
tlu> ]uip])y medium. Enthusiasm often supi>lies Hie
place of ofiiius, tliouuh many ai'e tired by di^ire
whose fuel burns out too soon. ]*ro\ ided he is not
a tool, an enthusiast is alwavs interestino-.

i:\THUSIASM AN1» .^XXl'I.

178

list SUCOOOil
)f a populai-
It must, ill
liaiiatti'iui»l
sacriticed U>

\vriti<>n, l»ut
lit be called
] ])ai-t is tlio
lo liavi' lint
orsliip as a

the A\ ritiii','
•iti" a hook, '
tlio two CCll-
do, eiiVV not
iu'Npr<'Ssll)ly

(■ity-l)uni« r.
it of the trui^
.. hast Imill,
1(1 \)v a \\>n\-
11(1 SCI nil lit ry
Irods of the

mic iiisaiio,

What will

^■('fs. it ti't'iU

ll'j,ht to lltMl'-
\\, '^ood lll-
t icisiil, I'filal.
rward ithovc
iK> to have
ilaiK'c left to
tivc to vcii-
s to |)n'S('r\o
■;u|)|>rK's the
d l)y dv^'^ve
•d he is not

111 crossiiiuj tilt! Ali)s, Na|>ole<tn's ai'tillery proved
too jieavy for the men. For a time it seemed that it
must he aliaiidoiu'd. At length the general ordeicd
i( cliarijie sounded, \vhen, inspired by the familiar tom.'S,
up went tlio heavy j^uns as if lifted by unseen powers.
It is not. lioAvever, by spasms that i^reat things in lit

atui

e a

re achieved. The fire which Avarms and

jiurilies intelligence must be kept at a steadier glow.
A etutral enthusiasm, indeed, is necessary to the
Wcil-lieiiig of evei'V miiii and every woman. It niat,-
ti rs ]( ss ^^ hat foi'iii it takes tJian that it sliould exist.
Thaidv (lod.theii, forambitionl N^'itliout enthusiasm
man is iiio\'eless iiiechanisiii, pi-tons and mIkcIs and
<c,^s \vit]i<»ut pro[>eirnig [io\\er. Ainbitioii is the
steam that ilri\ts our human ciiiiinerv, and tin- hii^lu'r
tlie aliiliitioll the nobler the mail, t hoimh aiiv <lesir'e

betler tlian tion

JJettei' far," as ^Irs JhoMiiinL::

lys. " |iur.>iie ii frivolous trade by st rious means than
suhlinu; art fri\ nlouslv." The moment eiithusiasin

mes

the W(»

I'k ends. l^verv heart must have its wo

ipfiil

ideal. e|>e I

t is . nipty indeed. The lo\ver4

ei'dinary form of this in>[iiratioii is avarice, the high
c-t. faith.

Take from llu average ( iti/eii the piissioii ibr accu-
uiulating. and you depri\'e Iiim of his manhood. Tal
tVuiii the hereaveti

\.e

I li

iiidoo or Christian mother her
t'aitii. and you hint out to lierthes^ ., of heaven. A
wise enthusiasm brings with it lasting benefits, lait

man

the enthusiasm of tbllv

et ti r than none

i>i mo

re a man who builds J'isa tower:

or CO

llect>

liK'er.sehaum I'lUes. tliaii one

lo I

Hopes in the <'him-

ii, \-

Corner, or panders to animal appetites.

The man of distempir or ennui should get a hobby
ami lide it. e\(ii tlioiiL:!! the thing itself be no more
wnisome than the plank to w hich the tlrowning man
< li;iis. If you would save your life you must anchor
it tu soiiietirmg more noble than \ours(lt'.

ib' will' from satiety, ill health, or other cause, has
invcuvi rably lost all interest in the affairs of this

ITtl

HATTHK LK FKH slH I/KNTIAMK.

■■*

'! '

'il'

World, i.s no hotter tlian a iload man : nay, lu' is worse.
His niintl, sapped of its ambitions, feeding on fancied
misfortunes, becomes infe<'ted and infectious. It poi-
sons evorv other mind coming under its inHuencc.
Woe hetide liim whose last great hope is gone. His
sun is indeed set. Twice dead is he, dea<l to the liv-
ing and dead to the dead. Worse than dinid he seems
to the actively living, his unappeasetl shadr wandt-riic.'
amidst the tasteless things of earth ns in a prison-yani
beyond whose walls is endless ih'sert. Occupation in
jmrgatory were better than inability to forget tlir
past or to improve the future. There are <lays and
weeks an<l months with su<'h an one when the sky is
oven-ast with blackness, when the ail' is filled with
harpies that play discordant tunes uj^oii his neiv< -
strings, and steal his soul-susti'iiance as the f<M)<l nf
blind Phineus was stoK-n. Storm and sunshine alik<'
wage war upon his sensibilities. What wonder is it,
then, that there appears between him and nature so
deadly an antagonism that sometimes lie deems it
better for both that tlity shouhl be divorced? From
<l{iys barren of hope, from an ol<| age in which the soul
has Motiiiii''' to look forward lo. mav the ^ods delivci
us!

The re»duse habits of authors account for much of
their natural shyness, though it may as truthfully iio
said that shyness smothering high andtitinn di-ivts
many to the study for the expression of irri'])ressilil('
thought. LTnable to mint the treasures of their minds
into the rapidly circulating coin of conversation,
they retire, and <live into pi'ofounder depths fni
pearls of u'veatei' price. Societv talk is tdiieHv fir
pleasure or display, seldom for impi'ovement ; he who
is <'onscious of abilities ab(»ve the average is unwilliiiL;
to Hing his best thoughts whei'e they dro[) likt' bulli ts
among the bubbles of the brilliant wit and shinin>j;
conversationalist.

Authors, as a rule, are not the best converscrs.
The cause is obvious. The best thuUiihts of a careful

L1TEKAU\ LAHOK.

for iiuu'li of
rut lif» illy 1)0
)iti<)ii drives
irr('i>r('s3iltl«'
T tlu'ir luiiHls

urittT romo witli long roscarcli .and patient study,
llr wliosi' only resource is the sj>ontane<»us How from
the aeeuniulutioiis of actual experience soon writes
liiiiiself tmt. The mills even of genius refuse to grind
unit ss grain l>e tlirown in at the hoppei'. Days and
nights of study bre<'d hahits <tf thought unfavoi'ahle
to wise gossi[t and witty repartee; and on the other
hand, the hrilliant conversationalist will seldom leave
tlir fascinations of intellectual cncountoi* and closet
himself for a lifelong di'udgery. Tin- mind, roused to
lis utmost endeavor in the study, droo[»s in the draw-
int^-room. " While other men in societv abandon

tlieir whole .souls to tln' to[ties of the moment," says
\Villi;ini Mathews, "and. concentrating their energies,
appear keen and animated, the man of genius, who
has stirred tlu' vast sea of human hearts \>y ]iis writ-
ings, feels a langu(»r and prostration arising from the
se( i( t toil of thought: and it is only when he has re-
cruited J I is energies l»y relaxation and repo.so, and is
(luee more in his .study, surrounded by those master
spirits with whom he has so often held ceK'stial col-
n(|uy sublime, that his soul rekindles with enthusiasm,

aiiii pours itself oil papi'r in thoughts that breathe and
Wdi'ds that burn."

All work which benefits our fellows is entitled to
ivci.;4nition and remuneration, but literary work per-
fninied solely for such reeognitioii or remuneration is
si'ldoni beneficial to them. It is not instructive to tell
piople what they like to hear ratlier than what is
It is (juite ditt'erent, li\ing to write and writin

true.

tn li\

The want of monev," says llammert

ton.

(I"

till' higher intellectual pursuits the most common
liindniiice to th<»rougliness and excellence of work."'
Il a man can write honestly and nobly, and can find
ni( n \v1h will buv his i-ftbrts, let him receive liis i)av

;istl

h-V

(H pnH'ious men

hand

ise

but t

>th

() counter-
I

icitnpmion and [trmeipio tor })eeumarv orotlier rewan
is t(t prostitute tlie soul, a crime as nuich greater than
the prostitution of the body as the soul is above the

JS^WSi AM) MlSCEI.I.ANY 12

§■

ll:::

ITS

HATTHK I.K FKIl SUIl LKNCLUMK.

l)ody. Indcoil, sucli urtifico almost always betray tj
tlio autiior; tlio liy|><»crit(' soldoia long deceives in
literature any more than elsewhere.

The ordinary ineentives to literary effort are found
li ss in the proinptinj^s of necessity and profit than in
]>l({isure, fame. Thest;, or any one of them, arc linked
with a desire to sav soniethhiy: to which the world
will listen, a desire to give expression to p<'nt-uj>
thought, to find (»utlet for the surcharged heart <ir
lii-i)in.

Ijove of distinction is hut a l<>\c (»f self, and tliougli
it sometimes spurs the ardent aspirer to greater inter-
est in mankind, and tlience to generous sacrifices, S( It"
still is the .song and the refrain. He who looks f ir
a reward for his lahor, other than that which satislit s
the highest nspirations of the soul and fills the mind
with fragrant thoughts, is apt to meet with dis-
nppointment. I'nlike hiise earthly soil, it is only in
the hestowal that love's fii'Id is fertilized; arecompensi;
re(|uir(>d. and the garden moisture turns to ice. He
who lives the intellectual lite finds his reward not
alnoad, hut in heing ; he finds solact; not in what nun
say of him, hut in what he knows of himself llis
hap[>iness is in ever drawing nearer that supreme in-
telligence which he is destined never fully to attain.

If hapi»ini'ss be the end of life the (juestion is linw
most succi'ssfully to pursue it. He who is alwavs
thiidving of his ha})pine.ss is never happy. The healthy
man is one who is never notified by his lungs or liver
that all is well with him to-day. He knows not that Iio
has an organisni. He who would writeand be happy in
it, must not write for happiness, for fame, for fortune;
must write, not as a means to an end, but as finding tlio
end in the means. Pursue pleasure and you will nev.r
find it; pursue duty and, whether it be pleasing >n-
not, nmch pleasure may be taken on the wing. AVi'
all desire happiness, and yet so perverse and foolisli
are we, that unless secured in our own way we \mv\\i
beimr miserable. The mi.ser does not wish to be mad""

LOVK OK KAME.

179

liiippy by giving, nor tlio drunkard by abstinence. It
is through the iiidulgoMr«M)f tlioso things wliicli bring
us wiM' that we wisli to acliiove happiness, else we
jui tVr tf) Iiug our misery. Quiot, health-producing
wisdom renders ardcmt temperamonts only tlie more
iiiipiiticiit.

Up to liis twcMitietli year it liad l)eon tlio life object
ot' .Tolm Stuart Mill to be, as lie expressed it, a re-
t'l inner of tiie world. Sucli eareful traininir had he
)( I'cived from Ids father that ho was tlicn the equal
of most scholars at forty. One dull, insipid day lie
:i-ked himself " SupiH)so all my objects in life were
lahzed, would I be glad of it <" And the irrepres-
-ililo "Xo," tliat followed shivered his ideal structure.
|{e tlioui;ht hims(^lf living for an end; he found him-
self living only for present gratification.

Nevertheless, whatever the other [)romptings, the
-Icsire for fame is undoubtedly present with the writer.
Says Richard Hcniry Stoddard, "The desire for fame
is one of the highest by which man is actuated." And
;('4iiiu: "I can conceive of ?iothing grander than the
love of fame by which so many are governed." Such
\\()rds scorn at variance with purity of ambition or
olovatiou of feeling, for next to money fanio^er se is
tlu) lowest incentive to effort.

What to the dead Achilles in his gloomy prison
iiouse should be the thought of the unfading glory
that waste illumine his name, while in life, to Ulysses,
wlio (assayed him comfort, he made answer that he
would rather be a churl's slave within the sunlight
tliaii lord of a universe of the dead.

"A man's conviction that justice will be done to
liiu! in history," says Sir Arthur Helps, "is a second-
ary motive, and not one which of itself will comjiel
liiin to do just and great things." Goethe during the
latter part of his life was apparently as indifferent to
tame as he was impervious to flattery. Probably he
had had miough of both.

Campbell professed to care nothing for his reputa-

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180

BATTUE LE FEE SUR LENCLUME.

l]^

tion as a prose- writer, and appeared careless of fame
even in regard to his poetry. To a Life of Mvs H'kI-
doiia and a Life of Sir Thomas Lawrence, the name of
*'T. Campbell Esq." was put as author, though that
ease-loving genius had little else to do with the books
than to look over the proof sheets as they passed
through the press.

But tlioujxh fame is not the highest incentive to
literary work, it is as liigh as most of us aspire to.
As the younger Pliny expresses it: "Alius alium,
ego beatissimuni existimo, qui bona3 niansurasque
famae prsesuinptioue pcrfruitur, certusque posteritatis
cum futurii gloria vivit."

As a rule he who prints a book professing indiffer-
ence to literary fame is a simpleton and a hypocrite,
even though he lack the discrimination to perceive
his own motives, and though honest in his assevera-
tions of indifference to public praise. So coy and
prudish may be his blushing modesty, that he sends
forth his work anonymously; yet the omission from
the title page of the author's name indicates a morbid
sensibility upon the subject, which points to egotism,
affectation, and hankering for that which he pretends
to despise. For if his anonymous publication secures
praise, is ho not proud of it, and does he not tell his
friend, and finally all the world ?

He who works for fame alone deserves none ; he
who is wholly indifferent to fame is already near tlie
end of his labors. The moment a person finds greater
pleasure in praise than in speaking the truth, ho is
fast losing his principles, if he ever had any. Low is
the standard in anything, in literature no less than in
morality, which is reached and governed by what
people will say. J3ut sliam jirevails, swaying most of
us, although we know its glaring transparency.
" Fame usually comes t») those who are thinkini^
about something else," says Holmes. Indeed, he wlio
seeks fame can soonest find it by forgetting that he
seeks it. Duty rather than praise should be upper-

INCENTIVE TO LITERARY LABOR.

181

most in the iiiiud of the writer ; the just rather than
the expedient. Remember also that literary fame is
seldom lasting and is scarcely worth the looking after.
'• What do they think of Tupper ? " asked some one of
Thackeray. " They do not think of Tapper," was
the reply.

The true writer writes not alone for fame or for money,
ho writes because he has sonietlung to say. Hunger
\& the incentive underlying all literary activity. Bodily
hunger has produced thousands of books; mind hun-
ger, soul hunger, other thousands.

Poor indeed is the ambition which cannot sink self
hi the object to be attained. Such is political ambi-
tion, ])lace-seeking, whose immediate and only desire
is si'lf-gratification. Such were not the missionary
fatliers' aspirations, willing to wait until after death
for their reward. Political ambition is pure selfish
lu'ss. Yet the enthusiasm of politics is better than
.stale, flat emptiness. Above this is the ordinary
trattic of the hour, in which the pencil-maker, the
clothier, and the tobacconist, more solicitous for the
rt'putation of his wares than his own, spends his life
ill improving some trick or method which he may
IcaNo as an heirloom to his son. A forgetfulness of
self is the direct means of attaining any object, even
wlieii tliat object is self-aggrandisement.

Tliere is something better in this enigmatical exist-
t'uco of ours even than well-deserved honor, and fairly
rariied fame ; for in tlie teachings of the Christ do we
Hot read that in good deeds it is well that the right
hand .should not know the doings of the left? To
ciiihody in one's self the good, to burn away all hate-
ful vice which as Cicero savs, tliouuh it were con-
coah'd from the eyes of gods and men is most per-
nicious ; to hold with Seneca tliat nobleness is none
the less noble when prostrate in the dust; or with
othiTs of the porch-philosophers that virtue is better
tliaii fame, and that if a man does well it matters
httle whctlier he be known or not.

is; . !«!■!

CHAPTER IX.

- -i i

;: t

w ^

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

No one, indeed, wlio is onco led to dwell on tlie matter, can fail t<> see
ht)W absurd is the proposition that there can he a rational interpretation nf
men's combined actions, without a rational interpretation of those thouglits
and feelings by which their individual actions are prompted.

— Herbert Spencer.

In California we behold the achievements of an in-
telligent and exceedingly well-mixed population under
conditions nowhere else existing. One result will be a
people on this coast different from any other on the
globe. The chosen specimen of manhood from among
all nations, they have affirmed their exceptional quali-
ties bv achievements both novel and Titanic. Ra-
diating from the central El Dorado, they have with
unprecedented rapidity transformed the Pacific slope
from a wilderness and hunting-field into a number of
flourishing states, and have assumed the rcJle of civil-
izing mediums toward Spanish America and the trans-
oceanic Orient.

The combination of elements so powerful was a}>-
propriately effected by one of the strongest of
attractions.

All men love money ; some for money's self, otlic is
for the good or evil that money will accomplish. It
is safe to say that all mankind, crave the power that
money contributes. This is one of the deep-seated
impulses everywhere found in nature, but made intel-
ligible more especially in the mind of man. Gotl is
all-powerful ; nature is an eternity of contending
forces; the lives of beasts are a struggle for the mas-
tery, and man is ever in the fiercest of the contest.

Taking it all in all, beginning early and continuing

¥y

THE TRIMARY INCENTIVE.

183

r, can fail to see

late, avarice is probably the strongest constant pas-
sion that finds lodgment in the human breast. It is
more general, being so far as we can discern equally
powerful amongst all nations, castes, and conditions of
men, ruling alike savage and civilized, young and old,
liigh and low, learned and ignorant. TJie London
l)auker covets Nevada's silver not less than the
Asiatic launderer; pure patriotism demands pay for
its services in gold as persistently as the connnonest
servitude; piety scorns it not, and even philanthropy
esteems it for more than one reason. There are out-
bursts of passion which for the moment tower above
avarice, but there is no flame which burns so uniformlv
liot and steady. Love often rises superior to lucre,
but is sure in the end to sink beneath it. And so
with relityious enthusiasm, mind-culture, and everv
other appetite and ambition, however conspicuous
they may appear above the often hidden main incen-
tive. Love of gold alone is all-powerful, and will so
continue as long as gold remains the embodiment of
human good and human greed.

While not in itself lovely or lovable, the yellow
metal is so intimately associated in our minds with
the gratification of our desires as the means for ac-
quiring the lovable and pleasurable, that we learn to
love it for itself The miser willingly denies himself
the comfort it buys for the mere pleasure of possess-
ing it. So with love of power and love of praise.
Seeking these first for the benefits in their train, men
soon learn to love them for their own sake ; like tlie
cater of opium, who, partaking of the insidious drug
first to allay the pains of disease, in time takes it for
tlie happiness it directly gives. With rusting millions
write they their names with faint fingers upon the
seashore sands, where next morning their more
thoughtful children will search in vain for any trace
of them, save in hoarded wealth, which obscures
rather than enhances their memory.

Such were the motives actuating the early comers

184

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

.51 i;

fllD''

to California. A.iid now let us examine the nature of
the material for nation-making that came ; for thus
shall we gain two things, a knowledge of what this
society now is, and some idea of what it will be.

Here was the final point of reunion for the human
race, after the dispersion on the plains of Asia, wlien
Aryans turned westward on their tour of conquest
and colonization, leaving the Tartars to follow and to
overrun the celestial and Indian empires. Now after
a journey of four thousand years, during which time
environment has been actively at work,coloring mind
and wari)ing manners, the same brotherhood, though
severally changed by circumstances, meet upon tin?
shores and islands of the Pacific, meet to restore tin;
mental equilibrium of the race, and to unify societ} .
No human event since the parting is pregnant with
greater importance than the meeting.

Incentive was added to the influx by the expecta-
tion of easy acquirement, without rendering the cus-
tomary equivalent in time, talents, and labor. More-
over, the ]ieriod was ripe for such movements. Steam
liad elaborated a new and expeditious means for span-
ning the oceans and overcoming many of their still re-
pellent monsters. Political turmoils had roused the se-
date nations of Europe to deeds and enterprise, and iiii-
bued the youth with a thirst for adventure. In nortli-
ern America the westward march of settlement had
been given fresh impulse by the conquest of Mex-
ican border lands. Disbanded soldiers stood eauerK'
|)repared to enter and reap the result of their achieve-
ments, and trappers and pioneers had opened patiis
across the trackless continent to a land already famed
as flowing with milk and honey.

Predominant was the English-speaking element —
Anglo-Saxon blood and brains Americanized by a
century or two of free thought and untrammeled ac-
tivity. It was but natural that the masters of the
soil, by conquest and gradual pioneer immigration,
should excel in number as well as influence. Next to

CHARACTERISTICS OF NATIONALITIES.

180

the Mexicans they were nearest to the borders, with
two oreat routes at their connnand, one by sea, pro-
vided with all essential facilities, the other by land, for
which they ab(»vc all other nations were well equipped,
Thev possessed, moreover, a marked advantage over
other nationalities for migration and colonization, by
virtue of the centurv-training in backwood life, and
expansion of the frontier settlements by constant ac-
cessions from the seaboard states. Herehi they had
developed the practical ada[)tal)ility and self-reliance
iulierited from the mother race, so much so as to
surpass even that so far preeminent colonist element.

Of the English themselves and their character, it
is not necessary here to s[)eak at length. The repre-
sentative Englisliman we know by his grave, taciturn,
nietlitative demeanor, his strong intellect, his big,
l)Ui'ly, awkward frame, and his overshadowing egoism.
We know him by his sound mind soundly bodied ; by
his coarse energy bordering on brutalitv; bv his re-
spect for law, for conventionalities and traditions ; by
liis hatred of cant, and his love of fairness even in
the most brutal of his pastimes. Having a keen sense
of their own rights, the English learn to respect the
rights of others — particularly of the strong and well
armed. They are self-willed, captious in their criti-
cisms, jealous in their love of freedom, firm in the
maiiitainance of general good conduct. In their
treatment of conquered provinces, rights and human-
itv arc too often ignored, and while pretendinu" to the
highest benevolence no nation has ever surpassed
tliem in acts of injustice and cruelty. Though forc-
ing; a deleterious drug on some, and firing others out
of the mouths of cannons, they nevertheless were the
til'st to take active measures for the abolition of human
slavery, and many other good works. Their mer-
chants are noted for fair dealiim', their statesmen for
a love of riijht, and their women for virtue. Of all
nations they best know themselves, and are by no

186

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

.. f- i

I if- ^

m't.

means disposed to place a low estimate upon their
mental or physical capabilities. They have produced
some of the greatest men of genius the world has
ever seen, and more of them than any other people.
They arc an exceedingly busy people. As Montes-
quieu says of them, "ils n'ont pas le temps d'etre polii-:."
Being great eaters of flesh, tliey are somewhat fero-
cious for a well-tamed people. Clearness of compre-
hension characterizes all their investigations; utility,
and strength, the products of their hands. Into their
manufactured articles they put thought and substance
as well as finish, and the consequence is that hi every
shop and household in Christendom, on every table,
and in every wardrobe, we find something English.

The British are a kingly race. A fifth of the globe
and of its inhabitants they claim, and they have not
a little to say about affairs and the general manage-
ment of things on this planet. Broader in their pos-
sessions than Rome in her palmiest days, they are
stronger than Spain ever was, because more intelligent
and free. Holding money and life in as high estima-
tion as most other people, there are yet with tlu in
sentiments higher than these. Rather by their char-
acter, than by force of arms, they give direction to
the polities of half the world.

These English traits were in a measure common
with the Americanized Englishman. There were no
greater number of real Englishmen in California than
of several other nationalities ; not so many as of Irish
or of Germans. Yet there were more than was
apparent on the surface ; for speaking the same lan-
guage as that of the New Englander, the southerner,
the western border man, there was less to distinguish
the Englishman from the Anglo-American, more es-
pecially as Californians, of whatsoever nationality,
soon dropped into ways of their own which blinded
the observer more or less as to their origin and early
life.

The British colonies contributed largely to tlie

EUROPEANS AND AMERICANS.

187

ire common

population of California ; but among these were Irish
and Scotch as well as English ; yet they were usually
regarded as one family. Furthermore, the colonial
clement, being made up largely of a criminal class
from the British penal settlements, was not regard-
ed as permanent inhabitants. Some few of them
did indeed avail themselves of this new apportion-
ment of providence, became respectable citizens, re-
mained with us and found that where honesty was
witliin the reach of all, demanding so little sacrifice
from its votaries, requiring of them to bo but reasona-
lily correct, to be only superficially or pharisaically
liouest ; finding it so easy to be called great and good,
and profitable withal, they placed themselves on tlie
Lord's side, and became loudest in the denunciation
of their old master the devil. Indeed, if many a good
man has been hurried to perdition from California,
many a bad one has ascended thence to heaven.

Next to the English-speaking population in Cali-
fornia, in early days, were the Spanish-speaking, native
Culifornians, Mexicans, and South Americans. But
tliese too, like the uncongenial elements from British
penal colonies, were not destined to remain perma-
nently, nor to any great extent to mix their blood
with that of fresher arrivals from Europe, and from
the eastern United States, in the engenderintj of this
new nation. The new comers were too shrewd for
them, too unscrupulous. They beat them at monte,
they surpassed them at cattle-stealing, at whiskey-
(hiidving ; they swindled them out of their lands, se-
duced their wives and daughters, and played the mis-
chief generally. They were a wicked lot. Harassed
and chagrined, many of these children of the Latin
nice gave the land over to the philistines, and de-
juirted for countries where wits were tamer, and early
rising unfashionable. But out of no such precarious
or coarse fabric as this mongrel stock was to be spun
the warp and woof of our new civilization. There

i 1

umM

■P7' V' ^' ■■

188

SOCIAL ANALYSIS,

were Spaniards of pure blood, with their families al-
ready upon the ground, destined to exercise no small
influence in the formation of the government, and in
the assimilations of society, but these were far diti'ei-
ent material from the dusivy, mixed breeds, which dur-
ing the past centuries have prevailed largely
throughout the Spanish-speaking territories in tln'
two Americas.

After these I would place in numerical order tJio
Germans, French, cockney English, and Italians, with
a fair peppering of black men. Of Scandinavian and
Slavonic stocks there were not so n»any. Asiatics, and
South Sea islanders varied in nund)er from originally
few to latterly more than any other one race.
Hawaiian islanders were plentiful at first, but too
tender for the rough morals which obtained liert; at
that time.

None of the dark-skiimed peoples have, from paucity
of number or lack of recognition, been able to leave any
marked impression on the social mixture. Selfish in
hii- i)ride of race, the Anglo-Saxon is apt to sriiii
closely any differentiation. While welcoming freely
even low classes so long as they are white, he shrinks
from the dusky hue which he has been taught to
despise in the abject subordination and mental infe-
riority of the African and Indian. Hence he also held
aloof from the first from the Mongolian, and when
the latter displayed his caliber in remaining at the
nmdsill and back door, the aversion grew. Politieal
and economic reasons have widened the gulf, and tlh^
celestial dwells here a stranger, to add his leaven only
as ail industrial factor. The Indian does not wield
even this influence, exiled as he is to secluded reser\ a-
tions, or hovering an outcast along the frontier settle-
ments. The negro rests content in his assigned sphere.

For conspicuous traits and effects we must look to
the inherited or adopted characteristics of the Teuton
and Latin races. We love, and our older brothers of

( OMrAUATn K VUALITIKS.

En^laiid love, to draw comparisons and parade each
tliiir faiici(xl suporiority. 1 must confess I fail to
distinguish tlie radical differences many would make
upparent. In physique we of the newer Eni^land
liave been made somewhat thinner and keener-edged
])V reason of our assiduous striving; while they of tlie
{(lu'ii'iit isle, fattened under the paternal roof, and
made less zealous by fewer and^itions, fewer responsi-
hilities, assume sleeker and more oily proportions.
]jikcwise with the swelling of their bodies tjieirminds
became somewhat infiat(>d, while we of the untamed
west, whatever our successes, have been k(>pt hund)le
by tlie very magnitude of our ventures, and by the
democratic influence of the back-woods.

As for our nation.vl brag, I think we Ancjlo-Ameri-
cans may justly assert that the characteristic energy
and ]ienchant for utility of our f(»refathers has not
diminished hi our hands. As in a new country there
is always more room for the exercise of native skill
and euterjirise than in satisfied societies with fixed
]ial)its, so wo may safely claim to have employed
faculties of no mean order, in no mean mamier. Wo
lie not, however, now as formerly claim all the arl-
vance made during this nineteenth century, but we
are willing to give England, France, and Germany
tlieir share of credit. Great were our expectations
and great our realizations ; as histanced by the un-
})aridleled growth and prosperity of the republic, the
ac((uired excellence in so many branches of industry,
and the success of democratic government — shining
exani[)les in all their essential features to the strug-
«j,Tmg masses of the world. Even the bloodv struu^le
<it the union war taught a lesson in pointuig to the
bravery and perseverance with which ]>rinciple was
upheld, the moderation with which victory was cele-
brated, and the admirable recuperation following so
great a struggle.

Innumerable senseless forms in government, law,
ethics, and everv-dav intercourse we have to some

lOO

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

\ M

(1 '

il.:^ 1 ''y

V i

■:

f'f'i ; ■''
if' ■ f t

extent eliminated, and there are many more which
a progressive people might dispense with ; l)ut super-
stition elsewhere has likewise been on the wane. Ours
arc not the only eyes from which have dropped scale:*
during these latter days.

lioligion, or rather tin; lack of it, is having its influ-
ence on California, no less than race agglutiimtions.
Puritanism, tlie little of it that left New England,
evaporated before reaching these shores, or else dwin-
dled into cant, and was quickly expelled from good
society. Sectarians put on a new face, and spoke low.
Orthodoxy began to ask <juestions, and many gave up
praying as senseless and unprofitable. Even Catholi-
cism had to reform its diet, finding the richer fot)d of
fatted sui)erstitions ill-agreeing with the new organism.
The skies of California were too clear for the old
mystic credulity, and its air too pure to harbor unseen
hob<roblins. Hell was brought to the surface of
thitigs, where all might analyze, and then embrace or
avoid according to inclination or character. Heaven
dropped from tlie skies, and mapped its celestial city
in tlie human heart, showing its presence by clearness
of eyes, and by honest speech.

But with our wide freedom of thought, and our
spirit of toleration, we have opened the door to divers
isms which creep snake-like abou the heels of progress.
For the most part they are fangless, however, and
scarcely worth the trouble of crushing. It is a great
comfort to most men to make fools of themselves in
some way ; and however sickening to sensitive minds
may be spiritualism, salvationism, free-loveism, and
the rest, they are here regarded as the foul wayside
beast which the traveller, who holds his breath while
passing, quickly leaves behind. The true philanthro-
pist, the liberty lover, the promoter of tolerant ideas,
may here find work enough to do without doing battle
upon those social ulcerations which erratic physicians
delisfht in. Better to give attention to the abnormities

resulting from indiscriminate

admission of low foreign

AMKRKANS IN VARIATION'S.

101

oloiiieiits into tlic i)oj)ulati()ii and |)artici|>atioii in the
;r,)Vt'rnincnt; from the expansion of monopolies which
suck tlie life-blood out of tlie people; and from the
iipposini^ orjjianizations which, in their blind hostility,
threaten to involve the country ui disorders.

Herein may be soujjflit one reason for the spirit of
(li.sconteiit. wliicli marks tlie character of the Ameri-
( iiiiized Englishman,as contrasted with his former self-
satisfaction over the water. This is particularly
i.bscrvablc in his social aspirations. Ho is less in love
witli liis liome, with tin- family mansion and its sur-
roundings. ])articularly if it be dilapidated, and without
iwenue, takes less pride in tlie family portraits, espe-
I ially in faded photographs, and in family plate, wliicli
is too often pewter. He wishes to make his mark in
the world, and is not so particular as to its co^or or
sitjjnificance, so long as it is loud and glaring. Old
tustonis lit' cares little for, and still less for old cos-
tumes. In Imping and selling he likes quick trans-
actions, preferring often a ready mo'iey loss to a
long-winded profit. The Anglo-American is the
Anglo-tSaxon retorted and galvanized.

Tlie Yankee, with his practical sagacity and enter-
prise, seasoned by a Puritanic spirit, and sustained by
the bracing and frugal training of a less indulgent
environment, finds a stronger contrast in the south-
erner, with his tinge of aflTectation and chivalry, inher-
itifl to some degree from the French colonist neighbor,
and with the Creole indolence bom of a warmer climate
and pernicious slavery. A representation of this type
is tlie Yirtjinian.

Without the tincture of chivalry from Virginia, the
social mixture in California would have been, perhaps,
more nmddy and mercenary than it was. F. F. V.'s,
first families of Virginia, every one of these dubious
scions dubbed himself. So numerous were claimants
to this distinction that one could but wonder if all the
families of Virginia were first; for if the immigrant
had been reared in a pigsty, and was unable to write

lit'J

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

':■ 1 I. '

-l( Vi '

■A ■ n

Wr'IV:

liis name, lie still swo^j his blood was blue, while his
breath told of its alcoholic warnitiL Brave as were
the Californians, there were none so daring as to deny
to any the right of nominating himself F. F. A\

It was from the withered and unseasoned hope of
the Spendthrift Fathers of fifty years ago that Cali-
fornia derived many of her first families. Sons of
silk-stockinged sires, powdered and peruked old fel-
lows, in butt' vest, rufHed shirt, top boots, and shorts,
of noonday toddy-takt-rs, of blood boasters pugilistic-
ally ])roud of tlieir lineage and of themselves, tiu-
youi'g men from botli north and south of IVTason and
Dixon's line came hither, brinuinu; with them a crush-
inu* ciHirtesv wliirli savored stron^lv of rum, tobacco,
saltj)etr'e, and the stable. Their })()liteness was quite
tlitlerent from tlii! French article ; it was more sincere,
more real, but h^ss artistic and finishetl. Their tongue
betraved tln'ii" several i)laces of birth, and tliou<>h tliev
called themselves educated, their knowledge had not
much learnii\g in it. 1'heir culture had been empiri-
cal, and their mamiei' was now prcnincial. There
had been hitherto nothing broad or Parisian in their
experiences, antl their conceptions of greatness were
narrowed to an idea. To have bec>n born in this ])lace
or that was good luck enouu,h for anv n^an ; and e\-
cept, unfortunately, their native land was part of tlu'
world, they might decline relationship with the re-
maimler of tlic; race.

If this intense egotism and provincial vanit}' can be
called patriotism, then was this somewhat small and
si'lect class patriotic. They might travel, but not
with»»ut carrying their birtli-))lace with them, and if
their whole state was too nmch for the measure of"
tluMr intellect, then a piece of it, the particular and
hallowed dirt out of which they were nunle, would do.
Yi't wherever thev went, all the world nmst know
where thev wen* from.

These scions of decayed gentility were themselves
a little seedy in California. Though their manners

SOME PHASKS OF CHARACTER.

193

, while his
ve as we 10
as to deny

ed hope of
that Cah-
Sons of
od old fel-
mid shorts,
i pugilistic-

iSl'lvi'S, tlu'

Mason and
>ni a crush-
ni, tobacco.
s was quite
loiv sinc(>rc,
heir tongue
,]ioujj;h tiu-y
lire had not
,K'en cnipiri-
ial. Thciv
m in their
[itncss wiiv
11 this J)! ace
n ; and ox-
cart of the
itii the le-
nity can he
sn\all and
'1, hut not
icm, an<l it
noasure ot
:icular and
would do.
|nu>t know

thenisclvos
ir manners

never left them so long as they were sober, their
clothes sometimes did. As they were not equal to
Vaid<ee shrewdness in traliic, and being constitution-
aHv ojtposed to manual labor, the black coat and
ojovts which they had brought from home soon be-
came shabby, and in due time a gray flannel shirt was
not unaccej)table.

In connnon with all first-comers, most of them were
obliged to go to the mines. To root the ground lik(^
a rat. and cook beans like a wench were fearful humil-
iations, but unavt)idable. It was gold and not ruta-
bagas they dug; and work over, was there not pleasun;
to be pursued in cards, horse-racing, and Sunday pis-
tolings and bowie-knife practice?

AViiat many of them delighted in, what nature, in
his own estimation, had best fitted them for, was to
Hill ])id>lic offices. Ask one of them what business he
best understood, and with Diogenes he would answer,
"How to command men." The judicial bench he d(>-
hdited in. He found it better to tend iail than to
herd swhie. The legislative hall, with a flush lobby,
and scores of axe-grinding rooms contiguous, with
free htjuors and cigars, was not the most disagrei^able
of ]»hu'es during the nmddy winter ; nor did he disciain
tliv gubernatorial chair. He was born to rule, and
the clnef utility of the rest of the rac^ was to live
tliat they nngiit be ruled by him. To smoke, and
talk, to swear politely, and swing his dirk gracefully,
to sit benignly in all the lucrative ])lacesof honor and
trust, were the chief ends of man in Califoi'uia.

Infortunately for this class the Pike county miner
iuul tlu; New England trader, the men of Sydney, oi'
Asia, and of Tip})erary did not wish to be bothered
with a too gentlemanly jn!is[)rudence or exc(>ssivo
societv rules during their dusty scrand)le. They had
110 use for a master. They v.anted u'old, not oovern-
I'leiit. 8o the American nobleman, finding his occu-
paiioii gone, was constrained to remove his shabby
hlack coat and kid gloves and go to work. But wjieu

l:ssAVS AND MlSCKI.LANY l;;

m ' 5^

sr i

mr f.

,m!:i

194

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

digging grew unprofitable, uninteresting, and monoton-
ous; or, rather, the moment he was able, he bought
a new coarse white shirt, resumed his shiny black
coat, thin tight boots, and shabby gloves, and mount-
ing a city-bounc stage again sought a position where
he might fulfil his high destiny.

But with all their intense egoism and patriotism,
this class did much for California. Those from the
south brought in their true chivalry and laid it beside
the ill-favored beast, avarice. They brought us
genuine, though somewhat slovenly politeness, and
laid it beside the counterfeit though highly polished
French article. They brought in deep human sym-
pathy, which had it been broader would have been
Christ-like.

The true American man, from whatever quarter,
displays kindness and consideration in many ways,
and his words are not hollow. He has his own notions
of thrift and labor, and he is not ostentatious in his
morals ; on the other hand his features are not con-
torted by prudish piety, and if he has less of tlio
form of charity than Spaniards, we find in him more
of the substance. Without the treacherous simplicity
of the Mexican he can save himself from imposition ;
he can exorcise shrewdness without meanness. If
the Mexican cheats you of your money he does it in
a gentle way, such as borrowing without any idea d
ever returning. He will lend to you with equal lib-
erality — if he has it, which is seldom the case; but
no matter how needy, he will not stoop to the low
tricks of law-abiding swindlers.

To California the Virginian brought with his vast
store of unwritten politics his Richmond Whig and liis
Richmond Enquirer, which he read and quoted as in-
dis[)utable authorities on all points of law, reliuion,
and social ethics. So long as science and holy wi't
did not run counter to the assertions of these journals
they might be believed, but not longer. The authors
o*" the bible were net Virginians, and all there was

FIRST FAMILIES OF VIRGINIA.

195

in science the Richmond journals knew and told ; if
the sun rose contrary to their calculations, there was
something wrong about the sun; it surely had made
Home mistake in its reckoning.

Moreover, for the patriots Virginia has given to the
commonwealth, our country should be grateful. Her
orators and statesmen were of a higher order than
tliosc from any other quarter. They were more mag-
lumimous, more purely patriotic, less selfish, less hypo-
( litical and mercenary, were manly and noble. She has
ahvays talked wisely and well, better in fact than she
lias done. But her dilatoriness in action was not the
result of deceit, but rather of indifference to money
and material progress.

In regard to their social propensities the Virginians
were the same in California as at home, eminently
liumane, hospitable, and companionable. And by
nature no loss than by training were they proficient
in the art of pleasing, high-spirited, and sensitive as
to their reputation under the code, though exceptions
niio'ht be taken to some of their ethical forms and
(kjotrines. Most admirable in them is the genuine-
ness of their character. Imperfect as it may be in
many respects, they are never ashamed of it, nor do
they try to hide or color any part of it.

Of all men, most reverential were the Virginians;
reverent as to law, divinity, medicine, and all the old
customs and traditions. It is natural to those who
arc courteous and considerate toward humanity to be
courteous and considerate in regard to all, human and
divine. All things in the eyes of tlic reverential man
are reverential. In California the law, tliough weak,
Avas worshipful ; the doctor's pill-bag was worshipful;
and so was the minister's desk, the monte-dealer's
table, and the counter over which fiery comforts were
dispensed. The free-and-easy female flower of the
city or camp was a Dulcinea del Toboso, beside whoso
virtue that of no one was more stainless. All women
were angels; and if some were fallen, all the more

196

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

need had they of a kind word from a live gentleman.
The Virginian in California, or elsewhere, was ne\ cr
a quack, charlatan, or sham.

To California the Virginians were sugar rather than
salt. They acted as a fine flavor to a new settlement,
but as practical pioneers they were inferior to wor^o
men. Their early isolation, remote from any of tlio
world's great highways of traffic, their lack of business
experience, their credulity, which made them belio\ o
all men as lionorable as themselves, their habits, tastes,
and training, and the rosy hues in which their sanguine
temperament colored schemes and speculations, niai'e
them an easy prey at once to their own illusions, and
to the snares of designing men.

At the heels of aspiring Irishmen clung closely a
quality which, partaking of little of their good charac-
teristics, displays to excess their inferior traits, and by
virtue of its services in the political field clamors loudly
for a share in the spoils. The Celts, so all-pervading
in the United States, brought to the Pacific coast
their pugnacious as well as vivacious mind, their ener-
getic but akj boistert)US disposition. On the farm
they contribute an admirable quota to developinc nt,
but a large proportion lingers unfortunately in tic
towns to pollute the political arena, and to form in the
low outskirts a social quagmire whence spreads foul
disorders. The pungency of the Irish element p( r-
vades too strongly even its many commendable fea-
tures to make it so desirable as those from the other
adjoining nationalities of Europe.

Rousseau, who seems troubled that the English
should prove so proud, pronounces the French vain.
"L' Anglais a les prejuges de Torgueil" he says, "tt
Ics Francais ceux de la vanite." From whicli one
would infer that this most chaste Swiss believed the
pride of the English to rest upon something while tJiat
of the French did not.

Now the En<j:lish no doubt are a solid nation, di^'a-

THE MERCURIAL GAUL.

197

was ne\cr

cTiocably substantial sometimes, and the French are
sui)crficial, effervescent, inconstant, fascinatingly so.
\et as this life goes, more particularly as life in Cali-
fornia is shaping itself, we could not get along without
tlic qualities supplied only by the mercurial Gaul. We
do nt)t want our mundane existence all cast iron and
stone. Give us a little of the gilt and glitter that
])liaso children withal, and let our sunshine be softened
Ity something less gloomy and opaque than London
fo<''.

Tlic world of humanity has been divided by certain
lionic-fcd philosophers into two parts, Imman nature
and French nature. Now, if the Gallic people, in their
iai)idity of thought, their inflammable, tumultuous
activity, their caprices, inconsistencies, and contradic-
tions, display a variegated whole which might be called
a distinct species of human nature, that species is re-
quired in California, where we are planting a new and
couii)lete civilization. If the African and the Asiatic
jiossess valuable qualities or characteristics which
other nationalities cannot lay claim to, we might even
^vis]l the mass seasoned with these spices. English
solidity and stolidity do well as a base, better by far
tlian any other element evolution has yet revealed ;
hut, good and invaluable as they are, no wise builder
of a commonwealth would reject other material for
his structure.

Everything must be proportioned here for a future.
Wc want under Californian skies some of the old
Athenian flexibility of mind and heart found only in
tlic French people. We want their refined manners
Nvitli which . .often and tone common intercourse,
and tino;e with eletjance social reunions. We want
their gaicte dc cco7ir, their happy manner, their lively
pastimes, and their sprightly conversation.

We will take lessons from them in soldiery if we
descend to such brutalizing pastimes as war; we will
take lessons from them in the delicacy and finish of
their manufactured articles, in the endurance of their

198

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

Hi:

!! ;i^r

V '' ■\

drudgery, in the harmonious enjoyment of Hfe, and
in the cut of gear as well as gait. More grace may
be seen in the costume and carriage of a French peas-
ant woman than can be found in the average Enghsli
woman of rank. These things are not to be despised,
for women love them, and men love women. Next
to the poetry of mind is the poetry of manners ; next
to artless grace, graceful art.

Heartless intrigue and virtue's masquerade we will
do well to leave in France; and with them the Frcncli-
man's proverbial giddiness and insincerity. I do not
say that as a race Frenchmen are frivolous or hypocrit-
ical. But their politeness, or anything else about
them, is not very deep, or earnest, or substantial.
They are volatile, full of effervescent feeling which
passes off with the effects of their claret. They are
too apt to be carried away by whatever is nearest
them. Yet with all their faults the French are greatly
to be esteemed.

ii\.-

With the inspiriting fumes of light-headed national-
ities, the deep, phlegmatic humor of the German min-
gles profitably. Amidst the intellectual convulsions
• of other nations, firm upon his broad platform of uni-
versal knowledge, he stands secure. More than any
other people the Germans separate fects from ideas.
To their early love of nature and of physical enjoy-
ment are now added mind culture and the refined
subtleties of metaphysical speculation. Nowhere do
we find more patient application, deeper study, broader
intelligence, or more thorough learning.

All our Yankee individualism and love of personal
independence came to us through the British nation
from Germany. For stolid bravery and stolid virtue
we may safely commend the German nation. Tliat
which amuses, captivates the Italian; that wliiih
touches, affects the French ; that which instructs,
moves the German.

Then there is the proud, pompous Spaniard, who,

THE ANTIQUATED SPANIARD.

100

if he be now of but little practical utility in the
scheme of a progressive commonwealth, can at least
boast of what he has been. He can point to his
faded grandeur, to the land of lost greatness, where,
if you have eyes for the teaching of human unfoldings,
you may discover the reasons for Spain's unhappy
dissolution.

More especially is this nation endowed with inter-
est for Californians, as the source of o'lr history. It
w;is before the spirit of chivalry had wholly departed
from lier shores, when gallant men made love to
gr.ifeful women, that under the banner of loyalty and
superstition Spain sent forth her sons to deeds of
Now World daring. And in this New World are
now many able minds and stout hearts, who regard
with mournful regret the policy of short-sighted priests
tmd rulers, which sapped the energy and ambition of
the Spanish people, and left them bankrupt indeed,
when progress stripped the black veil of bigotry in a
sJiglit measure from their eyes.

In an eminent degree they may now boast of the
two qualities which Spinoza denounces as the great
banes of humanity, self-conceit and laziness. As a
class they arc far too unreliable for important under-
takings. They are most pleasant companions socially,
and manifest profound interest in what is said during
conversation ; but tlie next moment all is forgotten,
their protestations not more false than their promises.

From Italy, the early patron of literature, and
once the home of art, from skies as bright and air as
balniy as our own, came many hither. And notwith-
standing their languid nature, and their ancient repu-
tation for cunning and treachery, they proved to be a
quiet and industrious people, capable of teaching us
many things besides painting and music. Those in
California are more skilled in gardening, boating, fish-
ing, and maccaroni-making than in the dark subtleties
of political or social intrigues.

Nor has the ancient traveller, the Hebrew, been

soo

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

■^ ; ^i

;i "fii

witliout his influence in California, where lie ro-
nuiincd true to liis traditional j^ursuits. This may
be accounted for on the ground that for centuries
past, in fact since the destruction of their national-
ity, almost every other avenue but commerce was
denied them by the statutory provisions of the na-
tions among whom they had found residence. But
this commercial character of the Hebrew has become
so recognized an element in the social and industrial
development of a country, that the early entrance of
Hebrews in California nmst liave been considered as
one of the sure indications of the country's future
excellence and permanent prosperity. Those who
found their way to the coast were sober, industrious,
abstemious, for the most part of good family, and
hence educated. They were as liberal in their re-
ligious sentiment as in the methods of their business;
hence they easily became prosperous, met with prompt
and ready recognition, found many gentile doors
oi)ened to them, and secured for themselves the con-
sideration of their fellow-inunigrants. They shumied
jiolitics, without refusing to serve the people; some
held public office ; the greatest number were content
with pursuing their vocations, and assisting in the
promotion of peace and the enforcement of law. As
a direct result, the Hebrew communities of California
are among the most prosperous of the world.

Thus we see here in California a fusion of widely
distant and often antagonistic elements, some of which
blend quickly and some slowly. Besides these arc
redundant and heterogfiueous qualities which do not
assimilate, and which in time wither and finally dis-
jippoar. In our streets are now heard spoken almost
as many languages as there are nations under the
sun, but the time will come when one language will
suffice for men along these shores in which tocomnui-
nicato their thoughvs, when home-sickness for mother-
lands beyond seas will be no longer felt, and national

THE COMING RACE.

201

partition lines will bo wholly wiped out. Among
those who now drink to their fatherland, who now
think and sing their eyes dim, shortly there will be
fow who can trace the t'an)ily name beyond the (Golden
(Jate or tell from what country their great, great
grandfather came.

Thougli not of one root, of one stem this people will
he ; and they will form collectively probably a finer
race than any from which they individually s})rung.
The parent source rei)resented the select manhood
from the different nations ; for the remoteness of Cali-
f )rnia, the cost and dangers of the voyage, and the
}ir('sumed hardshij)s of life here, kept back all save
the more hardy, self-reliant, and provided classes, and
chew in particular the dashing and adventurous spirits.
This sifting continues to a great extent, although
settled conditions and improved communications per-
mit the introduction also of less choice specimens, and
the climatic advantaoes attract a number of invalids
and indolent villa-dwellers. They bring compensation,
however, in much needed culture and refinement, and
ill presenting for assimilation a superior class of
women, so far kept back by the circumstances which
eliminated all who were not prepared to contend with
liaid border life. The earlier female arrivals were of
the robust mould, well calculated to bear a strong
])i'ogeny; but mentally, and in social position and
a((juireinents, they were inferior to the male pioneers,
Homcwhat deficient in those finer qualities which above
all win the admiration of the lover, the esteem of
the husband, and the respect of the children; quali-
ties which are particularly sought and expected no
less in the mother than in the bride, since in the
moral and intellectual home-training of the child lies
the basis for its future unfolding and success.

From such excellent sources there is every reason
to expect a race no less well endowed. Environment
is of the most favorable character. Resources are so
varied and extensive that they promise to stimulate

SOCIAL ANALYSIS.

k^-'i - ;i

and reward for time indefinite the enterprise of tlio
people. The soil is so fertile, and luxuriates in both
choice and large specimens in almost every branch
of culture ; animals as well as plants grow so rapidly
and produce so fine a progeny, as noticed alike in tliu
now famed horses, in the superior sheep and in the
ever improving cattle, that there is every reason to
hope for a similar unfolding in man.

In the zoological unfolding may be sought an an-
swer to the only qut!stionable feature in the environ-
ment, climate. This is undoubtedly warm, and sonu-
what enervating in the interior valleys, and in tlio
south where the main population will abide. Judg-
ing from the effect of su^h temperature on the soutli-
erners of tlie Atlantic states, for instance, there rises
the spectre of a blunting indolence to thwart tlio
efforts of the race. But the climate of California
differs in many respects. The heat is modified in
its depressing influence by daily breezes, during tlic
season and hours when most required, and the sea
winds are laden with tonic elements to which a varied
mountain configuration impart variation. The as-
sumed enervation is therefore counteracted here, and
less applicable to the elevated table-land beyond the
Sierra, or to the great Columbia basin, with its briefer
sunnner and greater tempering rainfall. The dryness
of California may prove another stimulant to nerve
force. Her central position on the slope, the seat for
an ever-expanding and vivifying commerce and for
attendant industries, and also the vast extent of her
sea coast, with broad avenues for interior traffic and
alluring shores beyond the ocean, are all powerful in-
centives to progress, which should more than counter-
act the possibly opposing elements, to judge from the
rise of Phoenicia and Carthage, of Athens and Konie,
in a similar zone.

In due time, then, we may confidently expect to
behold here, as now in England, the best qualities of
several kinds in a compact oneness, which shall be of

DIATHESIS OF THE NATION.

203

such solidity, such moral, intellectual, and physical
tone as to make its iiiHueiico felt to the remotest of
taitli's corners. Certain elemental qualities of Slavs,
Latins, and Teutons, have here married certain other
el( mental qualities of Teutons, Latins, and Slavs, and
ill tlie oflspring we find a new diathesis.

Henceforth Californians shall claim an original in-
luritancc, an original form of constitution. Her sky
and soil suit certahi temperaments, certain mental
(lualitios, and hodily attributes. And the outcome
will bo a temperament something between the nervous
and tlie sanguine, tinctured but slightly by the pru-
dential qualities of phlegm. It is of no small impoii;-
anco for every nation to know its diathesis, whether
ooutv, as in the Teutonic races, or strumous, as in the
Slavonic.

]^y intelligent anatomy we may discover whence
California derives her temperament. The nervous
she imbibes with the quickening air ; the phlegmatic
is clearly inherited from Teutonic ancestry, but from
many a source does she derive her sanguine, buoyant,
iKUK'ful enthusiasm, such as predominates in south of
Europe dreamers, in New England speculators, and
Frcncli faro-dealers; though ruinous loss taught many
early lessons, and kept society weeded of its more
venturesome gamesters. It is well to be sanguine ; it
is better not to be too sanguine. For I have often
ivniarked that those with whom success seemed a
little doubtful were readier with their sacrifices to
win it. The intempcrately hopeful are apt to fall on
grief Misfortune usually attends the irrationally or
excessively sanguine. Fortune sometimes favors the
reckless; but he who plays his cards trusting his skill
rather than chance, wins in the long run. Yet hope,
although warping judgment, quickens energy.

Onward shall flow the stream of successive genera-
tions, tinctured as in times past by additions and sub-
tractions, but midst all its eternal changes ever
iutiuenced by the original elements. Californians,

804

SOCIAL ANALY,>.IS.

j 4

It'

\i\\)\)cd beneath Italian skies iu soft Levantine airs,
will ever display the buoyant haiii)y temper of tlu!
(ireco-llonuin races. To this will aJd his leaven tlir
Spaniard, in lofty bearing an«l ehivalrous honor;
the Italian in happy contentment and love of art; tlic
Frenchman in jesthetic tastes and grace, in delicate
performance, eti(juette, and bright mercurial man-
ners; while tlie German and the Anglo-Saxon will
infuse piactical intelligence and enterprise and deptii
of knowledge into the fermenting mass. Meanwliilc,
the Anglo-American, by his shrewd conimon sense,
sagacious adaptiveness, and far-seeing, far-reaehing
niind and ambition will make all his own.

From such race varieties, with their diversified tal-
ents, will spring painters and poets, inventors and
statesnjc!). There will be multitudes in every depart-
ment of letters and art.^, industiy and commerce ; men
of impatient enterprise, who will not rest satisfied
until they secure for themselves and these shores all
the advantages that other nations possess over nature
and over eaeli other. They will form another Utgard,
wherein, like Thor and his companions, the new-comer
finds no admittance unless he excel in s^nno one art.
With the acquired insight and skill they will multi[)ly
knowledge, and add, century by c(!ntury, to the store-
house of exj)eriences bequeathed by their forefathers.

CHAPTER X.

iinoii si'iisc,

NATION'-MAKING.

Da untcn al)er ist's fiirctiturliuh,

Uiul (lur Meii.seli vursuolic ilio (rotter nicht.

— SdtUler.

As friction generates licat, so busin(>ss activity
ircncratcs creative force. Enveloping the commonest
lal)(»r of the early California period was a glow of in-
viMitivo thought, such as attends only the greatest
strides of" progress. It was not unlike those outbursts
ot" genius which attiMid revolutions and reformations,
Tlu! first question California put to the gold-seekers
was not, Is it moral? Is it legal? But, is it rea-
soiuihK' \ Is it possible ? There never was a time or
placi! where the people manifested in mind and Ixxly
such general alacrity and vivacity. It seemed prc-
fi'i'.'ible not to be, than to be inactive. The brain
would work, if not in the right direction then in the
wrong one.

Cliildrcn influence parents as well as parents the
children. In lieu of the way of wisdom, or force of
aro;ument, or the matchhig of experiences, they exert
a l(?ss [XTcoptiblc though nt)ne the less certain reflex
iiiHiicnco upon their elders. Soil and climate act on
iiiind ; atmosphere, physical and social, acts on the
Mianiiors and morals. On the sandhills round Yerba
Hiiriia cove, during the year of 1849, was hatched by
artificial incubation a new species of society destined
tliiougliout all time to exercise an hifluence upon the
whole human world. It was engendering which may
III time prove to have been second to no event in his-

(•20.>)

206

NATION-MAKING.

I;:

tory. Some will smile at the idea, and point to the
world's babol-buildings and Marathon-battles, to tho
advent of prophets, Confucius or Christ, Buddha or
Mahomet, overturning or regenerating the world;
nevertheless, the time may come when this sandy
peninsula is surrounded by a hundred millions of tlie
world's foremost men, that this human intermixture
of 1849, the evaporation of feverish energy attending
it, and the now coalescences and crystallizations that
followed, will prove among the world's most import-
ant events.

With mind bewildered, tlie new-comer could fcrl
hanging about him old ideas and instincts, some of
wliich seemed out of place midst this novel environ-
ment. Flung i' ',o the alembic of the nations, he was
transmuted. Under a new revelation ho was born anew.
The old form brought hither was wholly or in part
consumed ; certain parts of his nature, the unworthy
parts, turned quick!}'' to ashes. Hypocrisy and cant,
he quickly saw, must fade like a dissolving view ;
therefore the cloak to vain and immoral propensities,
whether it was religion, social standing, or other coun-
terfeit, was thrown aside, for directness of purpose and
honest wickedness were regarded with greater favor
than only the semblance of virtue.

Trafficking in the cities, delving in the mines, travel-
ling hither and thither, as their excited but not
always intelligent fancy led them, by steamboat and
stage, by pack-train and passenger animals, on foot
over the dusty plains, or climbing snow-covorcd
mountains, working, idling, praying, cheating, drink-
ing, gambling, killing, curing, were representatives of
the world's races hither drawn, and their actions to
some extent harmonized by the only universal wor-
ship under heaven, tlie worship of gold.

There were those so sun-browned and bearded, so
travel-stained and steeped in sin that the cunninger^t
race-fancier might fail to designate the soil whonco
they sprang. Enough there were, however, and l)y

QUALITY OF THE MATERIAL.

207

far the greater part whose nationahty betrayed itself
citlier ill form, feature, or dress ; for from early in-
Huences.let him wander about the world as he will, it
is impossible for man wholly to liberate himself. The
sliaip-visaged Yankee in his several varieties docs not
present the blunt features and bullet-shaped head of
the Dutchman, nor does the Kanaka from the
Hawaiian islands carry the long cue of the Chinaman
or the creese of the Malay. Whether Latin or Teu-
ton, Slavonic or Jewish, African or Indian, the type
was impressed by its representative character.

That thev were men of thous>ht if not of culture is
evident. First a man must be above the average in
intelligence and energy to get to Califoriiia at all. It
required money, called forth self-denial ; it was a
staking of comfort, health, life, for an uncertain bene-
fit, and churls and clowns are iu)t made of the stuff' to
take these risks; then, what followed was of all pro-
cesses most stimulating to the mind. A general cut-
ting loose from old habits and rcstrahits, new scenes,
new countries, contact with strangers from different
])arts of the world: all the enliiihteniniX influences of
travel tended to awaken the intellect and excite
originality in thought and conduct.

The maijnet that drew men hither, the manner of
their coming, the necessiti('S thence arising;, and the
ways and means of meeting tl^m, all exercised a
jiiiwerful influence in the formation of maimers
and opinions. Far j.-.ore pronounced and powerful
than any laws, maxims, or otlujr form of exin-ession
was this influence, which moulded the minds of men,
and gave character and individuality even to modula-
tions of voice, clothes, and carriage.

Immigrants who arrived in California seemed to
he st'ized with a sudden glow of animal spirits, and
revelling in the exuberance of new life and the physical
force tJius infused, were carried safely over immmera-
hle obstacles at which they otherwise would have
stumbled. The effect was ov no means fleetiim', for

208

NATION-MAKING.

the varying fortunes of mining life and the attendant
speculations in all pursuits kept them in a constant
tremor of excitement. This was marked in the gold
region by continued rushes, and in the towns by tlio
mad pursuit of business or pleasure. The inflannna-
ble disposition ignited as readily as a tinder-box; a
yell or pistol shot on the corner of a street would bring
crowds from every direction, emptying stores, offices,
and bar-rooms perhaps several times a day.

This was but the scintillation of the fiery energy
and impulsive recklessness wherein lay the greatest
safeguards of the times. Swift and strong must be
the current that should carry off the moral impurities
and social debris of that mad epoch. It was not tlic
time for grave deliberation and cool reasoning. The
blood of the people was on fire ; a moral chaos lay
upon the land, imminent dangers threatened society
and state, and prompt and determined action in the
many crises that arose was the people's only safety,
all entertaining alike the treacherous hope of sud-
denly becoming rich.

While mining camps were surcharged with industry
and dissipation, in the cities was concentrated an
activity more rapid and intense than even America
had hitherto seen. There was an eagerness, a fevtr-
ishness in every quarter, particularly in every kind of
traffic, which only American nervousness was able to
impart.

The road to success was traversed only by the self-
reliant and independent, lightning thinkers and
livers, strong in passion, weak in prejudice, keen at
circumvention, lavish with money. It was no time or
place for dall3'higs, even conscience must not bo too
troublesome. Thoughts of purity, of temperance, of
home with its loved ones, softened the heart ; but, car-
ried too fiir, such reflections brought painful exhaus-
tion, and hence must not be indulged in.

Few after cominsy to California failed in business
from excessive conscientioussncss. Yet there weie

PROCESS OF TRANSMUTATION.

209

those few, with refined sensibility, whose consciences
liacl been educated into a staoe of fastidiousness wliich
made tlieni unlit to grapple with rude, profane labor,
\\']u), fearful of doing something wrong, did nothing.
¥c\v resisted long the temptation to drop into {*, gani-
l)ling saloon, to take now and then a drink, to stay
away from church and work or travel on a Sunday,
to swear a little in cases of emergency, and finally to
overreach their neighbor in a bargain when opportunity
olll'ied. No one was likely to know it, or, if so,
everybody did it; in any event, the money was of
more value than the morality — or at least, money
after the return home would be worth more than a
too strict previous honesty in California. Thus con-
science was quieted.

Ouce unquestioning believers in existing traditions,
ill old men's tales, and above all in whatever was
stauij)ed in ink on paper, gradually they began to ir^-
quire, are these things true? While freely yielding
to the fascinations of highly seasoned novels, witli
which mining camps were inundated, the minds of
tiiese uncouth students still continued their blind
groping after truth. Prominent among the many
(loj^nuis early ignored was that special scheme of sal-
vation, contrived for an elect few, which surrounded
itself by an atmosphere of lofty spirituality, and oom-
1-lacently regarded all without the little coterie as
wholly reprobate. Farther and farther they wander
from the tracks of their youtli, until they find them-
sulves launched upon a sea of tliought, bijttondess and
himiidless. At first fearful, then joyous, in their new
libcrt}', many of them become lovers and worshippers
of nature, and almost cver3'(me has his individual code
of etliit's.

Thus, as they elbow their way through the w^orld,
knocking together their heads newly filled with ideas
ongiMidered from new conditions, with all their stored
principles and prejudices, each for himself begins to
think both of the i)resent and of the future; begins

KSSAYS AND MlhCELLANY 14

210

NATION-MAKING.

to question whether the institutions of his own eouvi-
tiy alone are destined to last, and to last forever,
whether his mother's and sister's bright and beautifu)
beyond is as real as he once believed it to be. Ho
begins to see in the aft'ected patriotism of politicians
the lowest and most vulgar selfishness, and in his own
patriotism a senseless instrument to be played upon
for the benefit of office-seeking jugglers ; he begins to
see multitudes of opinions and beliefs held by slender
traditions and supported by slim proofs.

All ancient maxims, political and religious, that did
not fit the occasion, be their origin whencesocver tlicy
might, were tJirown aside, together with many of the
superfluous forms of law and institutions. Not that
former associations and instructions here suddenly lost
all influence, but they v/crc mixed, even at the first,
and later there came still other elements, in different
classes and aspirations, notably men with their fami-
lies, having views of permanency.

Class distinctions suffered above all a ruthless lev-
elling. Never existed a varied connnunity with such
equality among its members socially and politically;
there were none rich, for the rich would not traverse
thousands of miles of lands and seas to dig for gold,
or to embark in uncertain traffic. There were none
poor, for what we understand by poor men could not
afford the journey, and once here no one was poor with
the Sierra foothills as their bank of deposit. Wluii
some began to succeed and others to fail, neither net d
be too sure of their footing, for fortune's ways were
slippery in those days.

As for antecedents, they were utterly ignored. A
man was valued only for his qualities. No assump-
tion of tiristocracy or pretended superiority was toler-
ated; there were no men and women in the country,
but all, in their own eyes, were gentlemen and Lnlies.

Blood, breeding, and education went for nothiii'^Jf
the woollen shirt covered not genuine manhood, ^et
nowhere was the influence which, if attended by true

LIBERTY AND SINCERITY.

211

manhood, culture carries with it, more quickly felt
tlinii liere. Honor and virtue were respected, but
tJii'V wore looked for beneath the skin; dress could
not conceal hypocrisy; aflcctation and dissimulation
in any sliape were ridiculed.

In comnmnities where the people are separated into
(listiiict classes, there is a certain sacred restraint
wliicli prohibits free intercourse of speech and action
Intwccn individuals of one class and those of another.
It is onlv amonnf associates where the veil of reserve
is laid aside, that imposition is fathomed, and the
intrinsic merit of the individual made to appear in its
nnkcihiess and purity. In California, with barriers
of caste broken down, and all cloudy prestige of an-
cestry, education, and social standing removed, it was
easy to know men as they were. Accidentally thrown
t();j;('ther for a brief term they would not take trouble
ti> conceal feelings or hide deformities. There were
here no conventionalisms of society in which its mem-
bers are so accustomed to disg;uise themselves.

Si) keen had become the insight into human nature
of tliose horny-handed diggers, that to act naturally
was soon discovered to be the only safe way. Un-
fortunately, with the artifices of civilizaticm many cast
off aJso its decencies; from looseness in dress and
niaini(>rs rose looseness in morals.

Among many orighial creations appeared a new
voniacular. Thought crj'stalized into words uneven
and sentences disjointed, which were jerked out in a
Id^ic eminently paradoxical.

Ail legislation tending toward a forced morality
was frowned down; under all attempts to inculcate
puritanical habits by coercion, such as closing the
tlieaires on Sunday nights, expecting thereby to drive
the liabitue^s of such places into the churches, thus
stimulating their piety as Falstaff would say on com-
I'lilsimi, they were stitf-necked and dogged.

1 Politically free and socially untramelled, these new
couiers made rude labor the central figure, the ideal

212

NATION -MAKING.

in their code of ethics; hence roughness and labor
were not only honorable but virtuous, and often tlio
only virtues. Contempt for dress, for personal ap-
pearance, were in many direci^ions followed by abjuui-
tion of everything refining, and attachment to what-
ever brutalized ; and this deification of labor must be
sustained by bravado and lawlessness.

It was not that money was sought for or worshipped
with so much greater intensity on the Pacific coast
than on the Atlantic. Nor was money-making meaner
or more debasing here than elsewhere. Voyaging to
California was no less respectable than voyaging to
Europe or Asia, merchandising was no more meicc-
nary. Digging for gold was as honorable as diggiii*;
for coal, or copper, and California street stock s]>ocu-
lations were no more gambling than those of Wall
street. It was the absence of counterbalancino; iuHii-
ences that made life more licentious, and gave Cali-
fornia free and easy airs in respect to moral decorum.

liie general order of things incident to new settle-
ments was reversed. There was none of the innocence
and artlessness of youth ; there was no season of
childliood, children were born men and women; there
was no period of healthy growth in which intellect
might strengthen and purity and virtue Moom. Inn-
ervating luxury and voluptuous pleasures accompanied
self-denying effort, and severe hardships. Necessarily
there nmst be here a reconcilement of incongruities
f )l]owing the meeting of extremes and the clash of
customs.

(lold-seekers were adrift as upon an unknown sea.
Exjiatriatcd by their ambitions they felt themselves
almost beyond the world's confines, without youthful
associations, social obligations, or ties of kindred to
impose restraint or guidance. The refined and the
uncultured fell alike under the spell of disorder, and
reveled like schoolboys in the novelty of the license.

It was astonishing how quickly at the cr, of gold
clergymen among others hastened to California.

MORALITY AND HYPOCRISY.

218

Wherever the necessity existed, there the ministers
of the gospel gathered, and tliere was scarcely a canon
^vitliout its wickedness in those days. Preachers at
first displayed freely their piety, and were as zealous
for souls as ever they had been at home. More so,
tli(3 field being new, and money and sin abounding.
It soon became apparent, however, that their ancient
labors were lost in these goltl-made conmiunities, in-
tent on enjoyment for a season, and to compromise
wltli conscience afterward. Even the gospel ministers
came to the conclusion that it was precious time
wasted fighting sin in the foothills ; so after holding
divine service hi tents or under the trees for a few
Sundays, many turned to mining or other service of
nianmion.

And the soft black raiment of sanctitv being laid
aside for the coarse gray shirt of sin, the influence of
coddling elders, of prayer-meetings, of conference
meetings, of holy meditations and brotherly visitations,
of sermon-writing and fleshly wrestlings, and old
women's stml-stirring tea-drinkings, and missionary
stocking-makings — all this, these soul-subduing influ-
ences, being absent, it was marvellous how quickly
the Howers of piety so recently blooming under these
showers of benevolent association became rank weeds,
reeking with blasphemy, rum, and tobacco. As the
leavtMi of sin began to work beneath these gray shirts,
it is wonderful liow quickly melted the thin shell of
their religion. Many of the fallen ones stopped not
on reaching the broad level of manhood, but fell far
below it, and became gamblers, drinkers ; yet some
renuiimed honest and earnest, willing to take time
and eternity at their word, and make the most of
both.

That which had hitherto been taught under the
names of morality and good character was carefully
laid awav with the black coat and white shirt, to bo
iii!,'ain resumed on returning home. It mattered little
what men were here, how they behaved, or how they

i
I I

214

NATION-MAKING.

were regarded, so that their parents and the friends
of their childhood did not know of it. A husband
might be faithless unblushingly,and a minister indulge
in a little Sunday gambling without exciting comment,
and as nobody expected to remain here permanently,
who cared? Even name and identity were willingly
sunk in the new admixture. The public benefactor,
the dispenser of justice, the doer of a daring deed, the
hero or the bully of the camp, might have been
known, even to his most intimate comrades, only as
Sandy Jim, One-eyed Bill, Yank, Dutcliy, or Lttng-
leijfijed Pete. The natural became iiere a disnuise
for artificial reality of the home country. Rags and
undress hi like manner covered the beautiful and
amiable.

The outward signs by which we are accustomed to
read the soul are here obliterated. Beneath the
broad-brimmed Mexican hat, and long, uncombed hair,
the bushy beard and greasy shirt, intellect, humanity,
and heart may be concealed, or hellish hate and loatli-
some lust. The true character is lost to visible senile
in dirt. Still, let the begrimed one move about among
his fellows, show his eye and open his mouth, and the
character and calibre of the man will soon be weiulud
and measured. Where life or death is so often the
penalty of ignorance or stupidity, insight into charac-
ter becomes an instinct.

There is always a deterioration in the social and
moral qualities attendant upon a search for the precious
metals, and upon tlie wild excitement which must
sway a community in which it is carried on. Severe
labor alone redeems it to some extent. With the
flush-timer the supreme thought, aim, and hope cen-
tred in gold. It was worshipped in one image alone
by the rusty, ragged miners, with their thin, grizzled,
unkempt visages, shaggy with weather-bleached hair,
down in the dolorous canons, sweating, and smiting
the rocks for gold, which if gained would yield only

avauicp: and ambition.

215

l-Lasurcs fitful as the garden of Adonis, buffeting
iiiisfoitunc with brawny aim and steady eye, many
of tlieni held for months and years in a limbo of sus-
juMiso, with an aspect neither merry nor sad; many
living along in a Virgilian hades, having no hope
f liough consumed by strong desire. The town-dwellers,
sei'lving the same object in more varied form, enjoyed
a more diversified existence. Nevertheless, all was
of a metallic brightness and a metallic ring ; golden
light and landscape, golden soil and golden compan-
ioiisliip, rationalistic thought, utilitarian ideas, material
wealth. Gold was god. Like the one-eyed Arimas-
piiiiis, they could see only gold, and waste their lives
quarrelling with the gryfons that guarded it.

From this absorbing mania sprang a number of
others. Passions were played upim ; irritations, toil,
and Imager united even during the journey to stir up
s.'hishness, meanness, and wickedness, so that when
the gold seeker reached his destination, he was half
the devil's, and ministering spirits stood ready and
waiting to appropriate the other half Nor was he
to 1)0 specially blanlcd for all this. Circumstances
did it. If he stumbled not, it was due more to tcm-
l)eranicnt than to merit. Indeed, an extraordinary
exercise of cold, calculating selfishness is essential to
siioeoss ; ho would have been regarded as little better
than a hypocrite or a f(K)l who should have made the
sauK! display of his virtues on the forty-nine arena as
ill liis own family or Sunday-school.

Had Calift)rnia no other natural resources than her
iiiiiu'ral wealth, she would be to-day one of tlie most
sordid and insignificant of states. We have only to
behold the stagnation of Nevada and the decline and
desolation of mining districts in different directions.
The mining for gold and silver is too near akin to
gaiuhling to be wholly free from excesses in tempera-
iii'ut and habits, and cognate abasements. It is or-
dained that by work only shall man improve, either
physically or mentally ; and by work is meant that

I'll

1 :i.

', ' I

216

NATION-MAKINO.

kind of labor Avliicli tends to results beneficial to tlio
liuiiian race.

]\[()st industries tend to this end, but i^old miniuijf
ranks auKJiiij the lowest in the <?rade. This can ho
best illustrated by a comparison with ai^riculturo,
wherein every application leaves a more or less tanj^i-
ble improvement tor the future, while tlie other leaves
a trail of devastation in upturned valleys and destrt
river-banks, both rendered unfit for cultivation by tlio
washing away of the soil, or by the superposition of
bottom gravel or deliris from hydraulic washings.
With tlio exhaustion of the surface deposits, or of b(>ds
and quartz bodies, the settlements sustained by thrlr
exploitation sink to ruhied hamlets or are abandoned to
solitude. The mining of baser metals and minerals
is attended by little or none of this harm, while
yielding far more substantial blessings. Nevertheless,
the extraction of the precious metals hivolves by no
means the waste of labor and the deplorable results
that are so sweepingly ascribed to it. Under our
present commercial sj-stein these metals have been t)f
incalculable value as a medium of exchange ; numer-
ous useful as well as ornamental arts require tlicui,
and their contribution to the enjoyments and delights
of mankind is not to be despised. As a lever fir
starting civilization, for laying the bases of prosperous
settlements, they stand almost unequalled. Without
•their aid the Pacific coast would present merely a ftw
small and struggling seaboard states witli a waste in-
terior, instead of the series of rich political sections wc
now can boast,

Gold in uncovering itself did great things for Cali-
fornia ; it brought hither intelligence and culture, and
speedily peopled the land with industrious, enter-
prising men. In making its exodus, it left on the spot
the more excellent of those it had enticed hither; 1( ft
their minds free to engage in superior and more perma-
nently profitable pursuits ; left them to occupy and
subdue the land, to plant homes, to civilize, to refine.

THE INFLUKXCK OF C;OLr)-^rINES.

217

The mines of California bred less inactivity or indo-
IciK'o tliun perhaps any other gold field. Die class
tliiit worked tlieni had come too far, were too hitelli-
g(Mit, iMiergctic, and ambitious, and the development
(it'tlio mineral resources of the country was too n'pid
ti) Ix'get idleness. True, some ended their lives in
dissipation, but this arose more from disappointment
(ir lack of self-control, than from the usual enervating
inllueiice attending the uncertain and gnnd)ling-liko
occuitation of minhig.

Ihid California given gold to the early adventurers
without labor, as Alexico and Peru gave it to Cortt's
and I'izarro; had there been an aboriginal race which
clvili/ed lords could have whipped into the mining
service without immediately killing them as was the
case in jNTcxico ; and had the Sierra drainage contin-
ued to yield treasure as at the beginning, the wor;;t
results to the country might have followed. Gold is
a Judas that betrays with kisses, a Will o' the wisp
that leads its followers over bogs and fens to destruc-
tion; too much gold too easily obtained will ruin any
mail or nation, as Mexico and Spain were ruined.
({old engendered a mania for speculation, and emigra-
tion to California; this was well. Then it flitted
hence, until it took a mine to work a mine ; this was
Ix'tter. Else what a delirious crack-brained country
this would be to-day. I do not say that such riches
arc an inherent element of weakness in a country.
Far from it. Wealth and leisure lie at the founda-
tion of all culture ; but wealth to be of much benefit
must come not as an inheritance or con(iuest, but as
tlio fruit of labor, by which means ah)ne an individual
or a nation can become great.

The man born to wealth is not wholly to be envied;
four fifths of his chance for manhood are gone. The
youth whose money and position are already secure d
to him, lacks the incentive to work, and witliout work
he n(>ver can be a man. His money wall not put
niu.sclo on his arm, nor intellect within his head ; and

918

NATIOXMAKING.

tliougli lie l)o as rich as CrcBsu^i lio will l)o but a |iutiy
idiot. Tell tliousaiid dollars cotitaiu gnatc r possibili-
ties of ('oiiifort and conteiitinent than tiii inillioas.

Some dispositions are demoralized by adversity.
It is more difficult tor a person pampered by wealth,
and petted by society, to tuni his back u[»ou the
allurements ot prosperity, and rigidly pursue a life uf
regularity and self-abnegation, such for instance as is
absolutely necessary for one who would achieve suc-
cess in ait or letters, than for one to work and im-
prove who is driven on by poverty. But ou the otlicr
hand, the shock of failure to one of a sanguine tem-
perament, who has labored long for a competence
which appeared just within his grasp, too often results
in demoralizaticm.

The fire of religion burns fiercely when fanned by
persecution, and dies away under the enervating iu-
fiueiices of prosperity. In times of peace patriotism
lies dormant in the hearts of the people, and is
awakened only by the approach of danger. Wealtli
in order to be highly prized must be hard to get and
limited to a few. It is becoming commonplace for
illiterate clowns by some lucky turn of the cards, or
by some system of overreaching, to be able to v/rite
themselves down for two or twenty millions, and tlicn
buy a seat in congress, or secure some other itlace
which only renders the more conspicuous their igno-
rance and vanity. Fortunes and so-called honors
thus obtained cheapen manhood, and bring partici-
pants into contempt.

3o far \ve have preaefiled the more shaded aspect of
lifornia character; sties, which after all applied only

Sc
Cali

in a degree. Exc<>.;sij3 and eccentricities attract more
attention because of their prominence above the broad
current of ordinary occurrences, and are naturally
seized upon by observers, who moreover emp]la^ize
them in order to impart a stronger outline to the
pecuharitics. A certain class of writers, each under

UKl'llESKNTATINK ECCKNTUICITIES.

tlio effort to t)Ut(lo all predecessors, 1ms gone further
aiMl cxiiggcratf*! the occciitricitics of the eatly atl-
vciiturers. In the niaiii they were )iot so very siii;:;ular;
must of them were (juiet, orderly men. Some camps
Wilt! worse than others, and nearly every camp had
.<iiiiK! eccentric characters. The fault is that tiic n.'ost
< aiuvai^ant descriptions of fictitious characters have
1)1(11 wrought up by sensational writers and palmed oil
as n jiresentatives.

Yet there was enough of the strange and fantas-
t\r, and that without adding to the coloring. The
oiitliriing was a rare novelty in its general aspect.
Fertile moment a new experiment was undergoing
trial— how civilized men of several nations would be-
li.ive when thrown promiscuously together, unre-
!-*:'.;iiiied by law, by society, by religious forms.
JMiuitivc men live without ijovernment : each avenu'es
] is own wrongs or leaves them unavenged. Proo-ros-
i-ive men refer their troubles to rulers; in connnon
with i>rimitive men they likewise weave around them-
s Ives innumerable cords of restraint, such as religi(jus
tiicl lings, moral precepts, fashion, public opinion,
wliicli act as fetters to mind and passion. Some of
tl use are good, others bad; some are blessings at one
time and evils at another. Let us hope that mankind
Si mic day will be so far advanced as no longer to require
{xhninistrators only ; instead of rulers, abitrators ;
liut ttiat time is not yet. These men beins; without
law straightway became a law unto themselves. As
it is impossible for them to escape form and fashion
ill some shape, their first decree that society shall be
witliout trammels or traditions, absolutely free, inde-
iKiident, and individual, is but the casting of a new
fetter which makes no fashion the fashion.

T]ie first use of their liberty or license is to make
tluit license the law; so nnpossible is it for men to fly
tlie track of destiny, or progress faster or in any
direction other than that predetermhied I Religious
el)seTvances were no longer urged upon them by pre-

220

NATION-MAKING.

ccpt and example; so many became infidel to ortlio-
dox creeds; nevertheless they could not escape re-
ligion. Deatli and eternity were before tlieni; that
they well knew, and each for himself must meet the
issue. So each for himself struck out on some inde-
pendent belief, tinctured more or less by former tviv.u-
ing. Som.) professed to believe notliing; this in itself
then became their dogma or doctrine. Not a Ww
turned pliilosophcrs; and far niiglit be the search \)v-
fore finding, witliin a given nund^er, more or deeper
thinkers on matters of religion and philosophy. In
these, as in all other respects, they were tiirown U])!mi
their own resources. They had all the essentials for
deep thinking, an abru[)t breaking loose from tic
past, a new interchange of ideas, Avith nature and
their own hearts to connnune with. Old moralities
they threw away and estal>lished new maxims to met t
the occasion. Tlie aristocracy of dress and refnie-
ment they frowned down, and set up an aristocracy
of democrac}^

In tliis way they soon perceived that humanity
could n(»t escape the shackles ; that as well niij-Kt
tliev strun'ijle to be rid of their nature as of the i:!-
fluence of physical and social surroundings, fclce
how it works. No sooner do these gold-hunters cut
loose from the trammels of home and of settled ci\ i-
Vv/ahI society than they find themsclvt'S surrounded ly
new restrictions, held as if in a, vise bv the u,reat law
of necessitv, urowinij out of their new situation.
There is no escape from this law. Bands of outlaws
are subject to severer restrictions by their own code
than ever a lawful govenunent imposed upon its sim-
jects. The leader, in order to lie leader, nmst giicl
himself and walk wisely, and the led must wc\yo
their will almost wliolly in that of their leadci'. and
keep a stricter guard upon tiieir intercourse with tlie
rough comrades with whom tlie knife an.d ]»istol are
readier to hand than words to mouth. Wholcswuie
law falls at once under the severest des[)otism.

THE EYE OF MAN.

221

lei to ortlio-
)t escape ic-
: them; tl.j.t
ist meet tLe
1 some inde-
former traiii-
tliisin itself
Not a fcv
ic seareh l)e-
I'c or tlee[.ei'
losopliy. Ill
tiiiTAvn upoM
essentials for
se from tlic
nature and
1(1 moralitiis
xims to met t
5 and refuK-
1 aristoeraf-y

at humanity
well ndidit
fis of the ill-
dings. k!lee
hunters cut
settled civi-
rounded \iy
V M'reat law
w situation.
of outlaws
ir own code
)on its suh-
•, must j^iid
must meiyc
leader, and
rse with tlie
1 ])istol are
Wholesome
tism.

All of us, old and young, become subject to a
master. We may get along with conscience, no mat-
tei' how we carry ()urselve;s ; either by compromising
with the devil or putting it away to keep. But the
omnipresent eye of our fellows we never can escape
fioin. In the days of his budding genius Jean Paul
lUchter affected certain singularities in dress, wishing,
as lie expresses it, to accustom himself to the censure
of others, and appear a fool, that he might learn to
endure fools. But though a Diogenes in philosophy
he iinally broke under it and gave up his fashion.
Few theoretical or artificially formed societies stand
the test of time. Communities are born and grow ;
they arc seldom made.

From the first there have been in our midst men
of sterling worth, reticent, modest, with brains more
active than their tongues, men of wonderful and
heroic lives, gems of manhood, whose quiet, gentle
deeds go unheralded amidst the brass-and-cymbal
?. iundings of the hurrying crowd. It was such men as
these, a few of them, brought by fortune or circum-
staiice to the front, but for the most part remaining
a jinwer behind appearances, who fasjiioncd society on
tlicse shores, and shaped the destiny of the nation.

Und'.T the slouched hats even of the miners were
1 lains tiiat thought, and beneath the long flowing
uiikcni]»t boards shone faces of homely shi'cwdness.
Ohsorvant yet visionary, some worked hard, striving
toovorrulo the inexorable cir'umstanees that ruled
tli< in, while others, not\\ 'thstanding their a}t[)arent
recklessness, possessed of a calmer judgment, of
-;i'4acity and (luiekness of apprehension, seized the
'avoiablo o[)portunity, and imi)rovt>d it with persever-
ing industry and wonderful power of endurance.

A liigher estimate was jdaced upon human nature
hy th'i €'■ ■ rieiices in California. Even the rough
uid unlettered workingman, without wisdom or moral
.excellence, such as are taught in the schools, displayed
a native nobility of some f<jrm or consistence, which

222

NATIO^'-MAKING.

^1. I'f

iff :;<:■:•

il .":

controverts the once-held doctrine of total deprca^•it^-.
None are so bad that no good can be found hi tli«'in ;
and tlie L>;reatest wliiloni saint too often in the houi' r.f
trial is found to be the irreatest sinner.

Kind-lioarted, benevolent, generous, they were as
a rule ; although some of them could be as crud and
extravagant as Caracalla. Keady at any cost of titiio
or trouble to rescue those in peril, to help the dis-
tressed, they scorned pay for such services. Whether
or not they possessed faith hi God or their country,
they had faith in themselves, and depended upon tin iii-
selves alone for their success. With this faith tiny
had no fear of misfortune or poverty.

This was an age of ventures and pioneer pluii';es
into tlio dark, an agt' of speculation and investigation,
of exploration and opening of unknown wilderness's,
in which restk'ss schemers, confident in their own k -
sources, stood read}' to undertake anything, from tlie
cutting of a shi]i canal to the conquest of a huiuhed
thousand Sonorans with a handful of followers.

Never was m(»re versatility of talents, or more apt-
ness in emergencies. As the richest placers v.ne
culled over and began to bo exhausted, mining ii.n-
chinery was invented with marvellous ra])idi( ;i!id
efficiency, which made profitable more difficult dig-
gings. There was not a social problem that conkl
arise but was solved or cut upon the instant. Although
a motkn' crew, without law or order, rights of propert}'-
were d<fined and res]iected ; regulations were inmle
concerning mining claims, thieves were shot. ;ukI
ballot-box stufl'ers hanged. The trannnels of aiuiiiit
forms. iiiap[)licable to tlie present order of thhigs, were
flung to the winds.

T])(M'e was here manifest in early times none of tliat
inequality between labor and capital common in oMer
commimities, where the poor arc servants of the ilili,
and labor is ruled by capital. In Californi'i lalxn Vwis
not on-y on an equality with capital, but in mai'V re-
spects superior to it. He who had bone and siiiew to

SQCIETY AND POLITICS.

223

sell was wore iTidependent than he who had money
witli wliich to buy. There was no crmginjjf <>f" tlie
poor lii borer before tlie ricli employer. All started
cvcniv; all must work, rich and poor alike; the rich
of to-Jay Diight be the poor of to-morrow, the em-
plover of to-day to-morrow's laborer. For several
Vitus tlie prices of both labor and capital ruled high
in Cilifornia, because people at the cast and in ICurope
lacked confidence in the stability of the country; and
wlieii (Uir pros|)erity became fixed, and men and money
cnine forward Jiberally, resources inviting doveh^pment
kcjit so fai' in advance of the sup[»ly of the means of
(levrlopiiu'nt, that the rates of five dollars a day for
i oor and three per cent a month for the use of money
L lined but slowlv.

A^ slavery shaped politics, the chivalric ideal, and
doiiu Stic manners in the south, so did austere ])uri-
tanism and the exaltation of labor in the north. In
Califiii'iia were both; gold was slave, and the gath-
criii'i; of it labor, which became lord of all. The nat-
ural and material predominated. Brains a!id blood,
wliieli are sure in the end to prevail over brute force,
were for a tin)e under ban. Unassisted by muscular
energy, tlie hitellcct alone would not discmbowi'l the
oartli, turn streams, or remove boulders. Pri(U) nmst
liav a f.ili; soft hands nmst bo hardened. The aris-
toirticy o? intellect nuist give way before the aristoc-
raey of mus< ''!. The connuon laljorer who at home
liai.Ms. r il -".i;ou''Sonthe turn}))ke, or dug canals, was as
!:o()(K> ii!i' I ?.uong the boulders as the statesman ormcr-
cliant. Til' !■' ;iest miner was lord of the land, and
oil ri'A men, doctors, and lawyers, who were ol)liged to
drive mules or wash dishes, were hia servants.

^Fa^tcr and slave from the southern states would
Avork and live together; white and red would labor
and 111' down together. Failing in mining, the luiter-
o'^eii'i us iiiass would segregate, individuals dropping
otf i' ; oursnits more cungeiiial, or better adapted to
tilth ; ■ y-making talents. One \vould take to law,

224

NATION-MAKIXG.

If^M i

Ki- ''

'«:; i

another to mcdiciuo; one would bccoir.' an artist, and
wkctcli c'laiius and cabins and portraits for liis com-
rade.^, finding tlio new occupation more congenial as
well as more [)rofital)le than the old.

Conservative notions were cast to the winds; and,
stripped of its folly and trumpery as well as of its
more comely adornments, society stood naked ; ull
things seemed reiluced to a state of nature, but tlitj
rajtidity with which order, e(|[uitv, and natural justice
formulated themselves, with the balance of right and
wrong restored, shows the inherent ca[>abilities and
good qualities of the founders of the new regime.

Not only WL lor made honorable, but there was
a chivalry that ..iveloped all industry such as the
marts of connnerce had never before witnessed, j^'or
so small a conununity traffic was conducted on a grand
scale, and the way of it was f)rincely — more jirincely
than the way of princes. Enter a shop; it might l)e
a wooden house, a tent, or an uncovered piece of
street or sandy beach. If the owner regards you at
all, it is with total indifference as to your wealth ur
your wants ; he is not at all trenmlous as to thu dollars
he shall make out of you. If you object to the price,
you are at liberty to leave the article. The seller lias
no time for chaffering, the buyer has none for dhap-
ening ; if they are old Californians, which term at
this juncture implies three months in the country,
neither of them w^ill stoop to many words when geld
can settle the difference.

Circumstances cast business methods into a mould
wi<lely different from that prevailing in. staid old coni-
mercial circles, and those who neglected to adapt
themselves to it were more liable to be borne down ly
the current than those who abandoned themselves
freely to it. Of the best class of business nu>n — those
of the most sterling integrity -and soundest iiorals,
and greatest perseverance— who arrived liere first, few
have been permanently successful. The reality so

AMIDST MANY FAILURES.

225

111 artist, and

for liis c'oin-

coiigenial as

I winds; and,
ieW as of it.s
[ naked ; all
ture, but tlni
atiiral justice
of rii^lit and
^abilities and
' ruginie.

but there was

■ sucb as the

tnossod. F'tr

,ed on a grand

more princely

; it might be

[ercd piece of

gards you at

our wealth or

to the dol'ars

t to the iirice,

Vhe seller has

mo for cheap-

lich term at

the country,

Ids wdien gold

far exceeded the romance, that the wisest calculations
and the wildest dreams were alike one. He wlio
should tell the truth regarding the future was a rav-
ing maniac, while the imaginings of an Arabian story-
teller might find credence. Brimful of health, hope,
and)ition, and enterprise, they failed more in overdo-
ing than in lack of energy.

Aspersions were freely cast upon the moral and
mercantile reputations of Californians from abroad,
some of which it must be admitted were true, but
many of them wholly unjust. For the innumerable
losses and failures which occurred to early shi[)pers,
thiy were themselves g x>atly to blame. As eager as
;iii\ to make speedy fortune "=1 in the golden wilderness,
and ignorant of the country and of the necessities of
irs visitors, schemes the most visionary were thought-
lessly concocted, the blame for the failure of which
often fell alone upon the instruments selected for car-
ivii.g them out. A large amount of capital was
•lirown upon these shores, mostly in the shape of mer-
chandise, some of which was wholly worthless.
Money was advanced by capitalists at home to assist
thosewho were to divide with them the gains; and these
speculators in the lives and labors of others were nat-
undly disai)pointecl if the pittance advanced for out-
fit and ])asisage did not l)ring them a fortune equal to
that brought to Whittington by his cat.

It is a conceded fact that personal honor ranked
liinh in the mining community, and is so maintained
I luring the present wider recourse to it by business
men geneially ; for, owing to the peculiar climate and
ether conditions, the credit system obtains here exten-
sively. In the absence of law during flush times men
I'lided themselves on their integrity, and to throw a
man upon his honor was oftentimes the safest security
ill trattic. Hence honesty became a ruling propensity ;
^" that midst the hubbub of the maddest camp-life
there was always found enough of righteousness to
f^ave the place.

KssAYs AND Miscellany 15

2-3J NATION-.MAKINC.

I'l the manner of sustain hii;' tliis in(le|K mlence and
dignity at manual or head work, a vast ilitt'erence ap-
peared wlien comparing the several nationalities.
Wit! I one an earnestness and zest for brute lalx/r, uiiii
anotlier the adjuncts of oljservation and thought, liftt d
the arm to easier perfornianee and wider scope ; hot!,
in marked contrast to the desultory and less energelic
efforts exhibited especially by Spanish-American and
Latin races, wliicli trusted more to good fortune tliaii
to personal force. These traits cropped out cleaily
on the mining ground. A Frenchman, for example,
lacked the independence and practical sagacity iiects-
sarv for emer»>encies here. Had the country Im.ii
peo[)led entirely by tliem, it would have taken ten
times as long to develop it. Frenchmen seemed
afiaid to be ahjne. Yet while essentially gregarious,
they manifested little of that nmtual confidence and
cohesiveness necessary to self-government, and tlie
prosecution of such mining enterprises as could hv
successfully carried on oidy by companies of twenty
or more men. Scarcisly half-a-dozen could wt»rk to-
getlier harmoniously for any length of time ; and m t
a Frenchman was rarely seen prospecting or travellini.;
in tlici mines alone, as was the connnon practice nf
Teutons and Anolo- Americans. The latter thouLili ef
all men tlie most individually independent, can at the
same time most perfectly unite and organize for the
prosecution of a connnon object.

Large mining com})anies always required a ])re[)(»n-
derant Anolo-Saxon element to iiive them consisteiirv
and cohesion. No matter how lawless and overbear-
ing the respective members of these companies \\\h^\<i
be in an individual and private capacity, they weiv
almost invariably quiet and orderly in their association,
submitting cheerfully to the direction of their leadti.
This national idea of uniting for strength, merging
the proud independence of one into the proud niut-
pendence of the whole, is essentially American, and
cannot be practised, even on so small a scale uo a

*ALL EQUAL UNDER MAMMON.

K ncloiice and
itloieuof iip-
nationalitit >.
,e lab</r, with
louglit, lifttd
' scope ; both
less oiieruetit'
American ami
fortuiu' than
id out clearly
, for oxainjth',
loacitv lU'crs-

(.•ouiitrv lit I'll
Lve taken ten
iineu SLH'UK'd
ly greoari'ius,
onfidcnce and
luiit, and the
s as cwuld hf
lies of twenty
■ould work tn-
time ; and \>t
jo- or ti'avtdrni;4
On practiie ut
Lttertliougli'it'
ut, can at tho
anize f<»i' the

|ired a pivixm-
nn consistency
land oveilteai-
Inpanies mi.uht
fity, they weiv
drassoeialieii,
j)f their leaded
(igth, meriting
lie proud indo-
aneriean. and
|l a scale ua A

niiniiig company, so successfully by l^uropeans, or by
the subjects of any monarchy. Perfect equality was
the fundamental i)rinciple, and hi companies formed
for mining, a doctor and a drayman, a lawyer and a
liiul-earrier, the educated the refined and tiie ignorant,
worked side by side as men. Differences were laid
aside, and a union complete was m idc under the
liaiiiier of Mannnon.

Paitnersliip was more than business assoc-iation ; it
w.is a union of all interests, social and physical. If one
fell sick, the other took care of him; if one got drunk,
tlie other helped him home; if both fell by the way-
side, tliey shared tlieir misfortune together.

These men whom avarice had drawn to this wilder-
Htss from comfortable homes were not altogether
avaricious; not so avaricious as many they had left
htdiind. If any stranger were hungry they fed liim,
if any conu'ade were in need they divided their })os-
scssions with him. Notwithstanding the yellow tinge
of their dreams and toils, nowhere could be found men
more indiflerent to gold, men who guarded it so care-
lessly, who squandered it so recklessly, who parted
fidiii it with fewe.' ]>angs, than among these who had
(•nine so tar and had denied themselves so much to
find it. The humanity engendered by the gathering
of the gold-diggers was crude and unique, but it was
.;viiuine and hearty. Social intercourse was pruned
of its su})erfluous courtesies, and blunt goodfellowship
took the place of meaningless etiquette. Greetings
were frank and cordial, and the persistently morose
and ill-tempered were cursed into kindness. No man
of any parts who would then be called a man was
long a stranger. Almost everyone had friends In the
(ountry, and he who had none made them, and pres-
tntly himself began to feel that everybody was his
friend.

For cool courage, indifference to hardships, and the
manliness with which they met the severest misfor-
tunes, the world offers no such examples since the

mrrf

'0: )>' |i ii

■il Jl SI

;i ' ■
■ I'll

IP'? ' ■■

w;('rni

228

NATION-MAKING.

days of Cortes. The miner bore his ills with admi-
rable indifference. Far from bemoaning his fate and
sinking under discouragement, and crying all is lost and
no chance any more, he recommenced with the same
energy and enthusiasm a new apprenticeship. If from
master he became a simple workman, it did not jnut-
ter. If overtaken by death before rising again, the
struggle was ended, and to death he resigned himself.
If a fire swept a town, and half the inhabitants were
bankrupted, there was no repining, no mourning over
the irretrievably lost; as if by magic buildings rose
again and business proceeded as usual. A flood boie
awav in a siuijle niijht the results of a sunnntr's
labor ; straightway work was resumed with a persist-
ency worthy a nobler cause. Not (mce or twice hut
ten times they fell and rose again, thousands of tlieni
dying in their endeavors. No wonder that some gave
up the battle and succumbed, victims to intemperance.
And lot tho.so blame them who will ; for me there is
no sight so pitiful, none that so draws upon my every
sympathy, as tliat of a once noble man who from re-
peated misfortune irrecoverably falls, and gives liini-
self up, body and soul, to the demon of drink. In
his besotted insanity that man is ten times more my
brother than the successful trickster or the untried
sentimental moralist, who so scornfully pass him by
on the other side.

To this wrecking of humanity contributed not a
little the wandering habits of miners, and their periodic
idleness, largely compulsory, but developing therefrom
into a custom with those predisposed to indolence.
Thus was gradually unfolded the tramp in the country
and the loafer in the towns ; and this in so marked a
manner that it became necessary to coin a word
which should express their character. The foremost
feature of the bummer is his idleness. He is the
drone of society. He may even be a man of some
property ; but if he s[)ends his time mainly in hanujing
about saloons, gossiping, smoking, playing cards or

THK (JKANI) VENTURE.

229

billiards, he is a buininor, and not entitled to the re-
sjuct even of the professional gambler and saloon-
ket'per. He is not necessarily a vagabond, but he
must be something of a sponge. He is the figure
head of thriftlessness ; he lives without work, often
dri'sses well, nobody knows how, is happy and jovial.
Landing on these shores without money, without
fricuds, with no definite purpose in view, wandering
homeless about the streets from day to day, seeking
rest and finding none, seeking occupation, seeking the
means to relieve the day's hunger, the dream that
lured men hither is soon dissipated, the charms of
iKivilty fly before inexorable destiny', and the dazzling
pictures of the past fade before unrelenthig want.
Some sink into vice, insanity, suicide, others cliancing
upon some lucky hit, or through their indomitable
exertions overcoming the vicissitudes that beset their
path, rise to eminence, and live to laugh at their fonner
tiials; many, very many, go down to the grave alone,
unknown, uncared for, with a dying curse upon the
tinsel allurements that drew them from home and
wrought their ruin. Yet those behind come crowd-
ing on, the lessons of sad experience taught others
having no meaning for them. Well, let them make
the venture. Life, after all is but a wager, and he
alone is sure to lose who will not stake it.

Now that this grand festival is over, and the mor-
row has come, stand on the corner of a street in
cosmopolitan San Francisco and watch the faces as
they pass. Behold what manner of men are these i
Out of great tribulation they have come, some of
them unscathed; or it may be they are yet in trouble.
The once innocent, happy, and contented look lies
deeply buried under business care and nerv«^)us striv-
ing. You see forms bent by labor, limbs mutilated
by accidents, faces furrowed by disappointment or
disease, hair whitened by sorrow and remorse, eyes
diumied and bleared by sensuality, cheeks flabby and

; ^ ::l

!1 t

mnt

'S i

2;*o

NATION-MAKINO.

WoatfMl liy (liunl<(inness, the {spirit rloiided with shame
uikI the (!<)iis('i('ii('(! scared with tlio oiiuh^rs of holl.
And anK)n<if those wlio liavo overcome', who have suc-
ceeded ill life's battle, you see their fossilized features,
their iiitelU-ctual iuaiiit}', and tlu; gloomy light tliat
glimmers from a ho}>e]ess heart, from hearts yet burn-
ing in the un<{ueuchable fire of avarice, each of whicli
knovvcth its own bitterness.

How iiiany wiecked lives are here; how many have
already gone down to ju-rdition unknown and uncarcd
for, buried beneath mountain snow, rotting at the foot
of a j)recipice, devoured by wild beasts or laid under
the ground by strangers who knew not even their
names 1 Nevertheless from behind these pain-chiselKd
features shines out many a noble soul, whose battliii^s
and victories and defeats none but itself can cn or
know ; its blunted sensibilities and dead energies nuik-
ing it a thing objectiimable to its fellows. Let him
who would study the effect of mind upon body, the
influence of the moral upon the intellectual, the sub-
tle impress of wrong-doing and right-doing upon the
human face, pause here a moment, for on no other
corner in Christendom will he find such riddles to
solve.

What were to them the attractions of climate, the
seductions of scenery, the natural wealth and good
qualities of the country ? Blinded by their losses and
mishaps many saw neither beauties nor benefits. Dis-
gust and home-sickncHS enveloped them like a cloud :
and not until they nearcd Sandy Hook on their re-
turn did the sun seem to shine. The eyes of others
were by their very successes so fastened upon tlie
ground that they could not see the stars ; so absorbed
were their minds in their various pursuits, that the
beauties of earth were lost upon them.

The thought of making in California a permanent
home was at the first entertained by few. To achieve
wealth, at least to gather gold enough to satisfy mod-
erate desires, to pay off the mortgage on the old home, to

MiAI'TATIONS ANI> UK.CONCIMATIONS.

•231

sliiild the a'^vd ]»arcnts, or assist brothers and sisters to
tstiii)lish business, or jteradveiiture to marry, and tlicn
to ri'turn — sucli was the ambition of nearly every man
who entered Calitbrnia in 1841). To rear a family in
such a })lac'e as the country where were neither
sclioojs nor churches, wliere, upon the surface at least,
iiKii were as uncouth as bears, and coarser and metro
lirutal than the iboi'iLjinals before the cliann of the
wilderness was })rokcn, was not to be thought of, and
the towns, hot-beds of iniquity, were but little In-tter.
Meanwhile circumstances iiiterposed to modify
tlieir views. Often is chronic home-sickness cured or
at least alleviated by the recei[)t of letters and papers.
Not that affection is thereby diminished, but being
transported by tlies(! missives to familial' scenes, ](mg-
in;4S to be there are in a measurt; satisfied ; fears arise
lest the prospects of success liave been drawn in too
liii;h colors, and considerations arise as to oner's condi-
tion if at once returned thither. Hence the wealtli-
sci'ker beconies more reconciled t<> wait a little htnger
aiid lui])rove Ins prospects.

The realization of such hopes was not frequent. Of
all the first steamship pioneers, who deemed them-
selves so fortunate in arrivhiij at the new El Dorado
before any of the tliousands then preparing to follow
thoni. how few succeeded hi securinu: tlie coveted
wealth or lived to enjoy the placid old age of opulence
and ease so often dreamed of! Bags of gold, wealth
— all were but husks on which these prodigals fed.

hy autumn 1850 the character of the population
was somewhat chan«jfed. The onlv obiect was no
longer to delve for gold wherewith to buy pleasure at
the east : most of the class intent on that purpose hud
returned home or were stiL at work in the mines uiia-
hle to return. Those who now came included many
returned Californians bent on making California
their permanent residence. With the arrival of vir-
tuous women, and of men with their families, the
moral aspect of California began to change, and the

M>ll

m ;.

232

NATION-MAKING.

tendency at one time apparent of making wonun
maHfuline was corrected.

Tlje influence of individuals j:>rew fainter by dogrct s
as society assumed form and comeliness, ami hcL^an tn
issue its mandates as a concentrated and crystallized
fact, based on the common-sense of rational conuiui-
nities of intelllLjent nien. I^ut society had ]on<j t(»
strug*rlc' with a lack of coherence; its several elements
required time to coalesce. There was too mucli
change, too much competition, too nmch manifestation
of the spirit of cgojsm; but to all of which time broui^lit
a remedy.

It could already be seen that a i)rilliant society.
composed of the intellectual and polished from iill
nationalities, was within the reach t»f San Francisco,
and that this magnificent fusion of the elegant atid
refined, each contributing the best traits, would sonic
day be achieved. As yet we find a marked contrast
in the free and friendly mingling of men and wonun
here and elsewhere. This is one phase of the restless-
ness connected with migration fever that dp mk n
hither, with the nomadic and desultory mi' Mfc

and gambling spirit, and the periodicity of farming
and many other industrial operations. It is also at-
tributable to the frivolous disposition of the wonieii
of an inferior class as compared with the males, under
the eliminating influence of distance, difficulty of ac-
cess, and frontier hardships, and too nmch intent on
marrying money for enjoy nient and display. Indis-
posed for household duties, she has given an abnormal
development to hotel and lodging-house life, with its
ease and indolence, and has consequently widely
undermined the taste for domesticity a?xl for the
home circle. Among other results is an increasing;
host of unmarried men, a forced recourse to ]Hil)lic
places of anmsement, and a giddiness of temperauunt
which is not conducive to the maintenance of the staid
moral tone of puritan times.

Neither separations nor o^reat wealth are conducive

THE NWiLECTED WIFE.

2:u

t(i quiet marital relation How many illiterate men,
ill times of early poverty married to illiterate women,
when riches made them worshipful amonjjf their fel-
lows, and redder lips and brighter eyes than those of
tlirir old and careworn helpnioots smiled upon them

-how many has prosperity thus turned from the
faithful partner of former days to fresher attractions,
thus sowinj^ seeds of dissension, soon growhig into
weeds of discord and divorce 1 Moreover, in a country
wlicrc women were comparatively few in number, the
iiei^lncted wife always found friends of the opposite
sex to lend their sympathy and advise separation.
Ill California the ease in dissolvin*^ marriages was
only equalled by the facility with which inerctricious
unions were pronounced legal.

The world may look upon the graceless doings of
the jvast and censure, but the soul of progress is not
of that world. The prim and puritanical may regar<l
the proHigate acts of the picmeer^, and heave a sigh
of righteous wrath, but the prim and puritanical are
l)lind to the great mysteries of civilization; for at all
epochs in the refining of the race, such deeds, and
worsen are patent, and to these and kindred evils
sanctimonious iniprecators owe their very primness
and purity. The achievement of great social results
iO(iuiros a deep stirring of the different elements, even
t ) the noxious settlements at the bottom. These
times, and the like, were the world's nurseries of free-
tli»m. The knees of tyranny smote together, and all
tlu! world felt it, when France and 171)2 made kings
of the canaille. Does the world yet fully comprehend
it? California and 1849 were the first to make capi-
talists of the masses, the first to break down the
rtinisy fabric of caste and social duplicity, the first to
point effectively the finger of scorn at time-honored
<"int, hypocrisy, and humbug. Here the nations of
the earth met together and learned the first lesson
of social freedom, freedom from that hatefullest and
strongest of all tyrannies, the eye, not of God, but of

234

NATlON-MAKINd.

rJv'i ■!'

::.» '\\

coiiservativo society. Tlicn they dispersed, and caiuo
aijaiii, and aiijaiu dispersed, and the winds of hi'avcn
never scattered seeds f'urtlier or more surely tli.-iii
these migrations and remigTjitions did the subhnie and
sim[)lo doctrines of social liberty without license, of
individual self-restraint witiiout socird tyramiy.

In the admixture of races in California we have
])ractically a conujress of nations, wliose effect upim
the n'ood-will and advancenu'nt of mankind will lie
tclt more and more as the ccMituries |)ass hy. In tlie
interchanue of nmtual benefits which fuse under llu
inlluences of o-ood sjjovernnu'nt an<l free mstitutitms.
and the cords of sympathy railiating hence to i-\{'V\
land, bari'iers of sectional jealousy anil prejudice arc
broken down, national eccentricities are worn away,
and every man bei>ins to see something good in liis
neighbor. Nor is iiiis all. This fusion of the rac( s,
this intermixture of the best from (!verv nation risi s
and swells into a leaven, which reacts upon the origi-
nal contributors, nwd leavens the whole mass of
mankhid.

W^ I

CIlArTKII XI.

TWO SIDES OF A VEXKD (,>UKST10N.

ir.'ivo I ni)t lu'.-inl (lie soa puUV'd up witli wIikIh,
Itafje liUi' ail angry IxKir, chafed witli wwcat ?

— Tiiiiiiii'i till' S/iriir.

Pi;()1!.\i.:y ucvcr was tlierc so favorable an opportu-
nit\' for working out one of tlic grandest of race
prolilrius as in tlu> republic of tlu' United States
(lining tbe first lialf century of its existence. Tlic
|vi)|;lc wlio declared se}niration from (jlreat Biluiin,
and fouglit out tlieir indepen<lencc with consummate
(Miurage and self-reliance, were among the noblest of
the (>artli. There were none to be found, among the
most fa vorednations, of higher niaidiood, of freer minds,
(tr purer liearts. Intellectually emancipated above
all others, tlieir purposi'S W(>re exalted and their lives
liiioic and virtuous. Traiiu'd in the school of adver-
sitv and forced to self-denial, forced to carv<' out their
fortunes, to subdue the wilderness, to subdue their
iiwii passions, they had acquired a hardihood, a l>liys-
ical and moral enduram »«, a self-adaptation to circum-
stances, and the power of subordinating circumstances
ttt an iron will, such as could Ix^ foun<l in no other
(•(iininunity. And as they themselves had been dis-
ciplined, so they taught their children— to work, en-
dure, worslii[) (irod, gov'iM-n themselvi's. and be intelli-
'j^cnt and fret\

The material conditions were most favorable; lands
unlimited, prolific soil, tem|)ejatt> climate, with no de-
inoralizing metals or serviK' lace. They had come
for conscience' sake, for religious and ])olitical liberty,

236

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

not for gold or furs. The native men and women
they encountered were poor material for slaves, i)re-
ferring to die rather than work ; so they let them diu,
even helping them betimes. Wild men and wild
beasts were in the way, and it was the will of God that
both should disappear from the forest when the men
of conscience laid their axe at the root of the tree.

No start in the race of empire-building could have
been better ; and had this course been jireserved, all
other nations would now be far behind. Had tluro
been exercised less haste ; had the men of nerve and
conscience, of nmscle and morality, been less eager to
get rich, less eager to see forests cleared, lands poi>u-
lated, towns built, and governnjont established ; had
they been satisfied to be wise and prudent, rearing
sons and daughters to work and abstain, to cultivate
body and mind alike, expanding in strength, intelli-
gence, and virtue, and reserve for them and their des-
cendants the vast domain which has been given to
others, tongue cannot tell the result.

The mistake arose from lack of patience and foresight.
The theory was that there was practically no limit to
land. The watcliword was freedom ; air and water
were free, likewise religion and government, also land.
All were the free gift of God, and should be hw to
all the children of God, to white and black, to Chris-
tian and barbarian. The connnonwealth should i)o
erected on this basis, and all the nations of the earth
should be invited to participate. All mankind should
find on one spot of earth at least freedom in its fullest
extent, freedom of body, mind, and estate.

Here was truly great magnanimity displayed by
our vcMierated forefathers, both in theory and practice;
wo will not in([uire too closely as to the part, ifaiiy,
[)layed by an inordinate desire for wealth and progress.
For a hundred years every possible effort was made
to bring in j)o[)ulation, fill up the country, and get rid
of the land. Every possible inducement was oifered;
all should be free to thiiik and act and enjoy ; tven

TANGLED LOGIC.

237

our government we would divide with all the world.
Little attention was paid to quality ; everything in
the sliapc of a man counted, and one man was as good
as another in the sight of God and under the banner
of freedom. With some of fair endowment was gath-
ered much of the world's refuse, and so the country
was peopled.

Nevertheless, in due time, the logic of our well-
plaiimd institutions became unreasonable and erratic
in certain quarters, sometimes puzzling to the simple
mind. There is the enigma of the African, who
amidst a glorious exuberance of freedom is first made
slave and then master, and seemingly as much out of
place in one position as in the other. But while the
l)l;i('k man has thus been made to underiro the ironv
of American liberty, the white European enters into
the enjoyment of rulership at once, while the off-col-
ored Mongolian is permitted to be neither slave nor
master.

It was natural to quarrel with Great Britain over
the ii;reat Oregon game- preserve^ ; nations like men
ojijoy their disputes if by any twist tluy can found
them on some fimcied principle. When the great
slice was secured from Mexico, the Americans who
traveised the continent wen; angry to find the cliarm-
iiiLi" valleys of California so largely occupied by Mexi-
cans. And when gold was found in the Sierra foot-
hills, the question immediately arose, Can foreigners
carrv away our nuij*j:ets ?

American miners said No, but American statesmen,
having before their eyes pn^cepts and traditions, said
Yes. Xevertheless, the Pike county men drove out
Mexicans and frightened away FrenchnuMi, while the
state legislature levelled its anathema at the Chinese
in the form of a foreign miners' tax, of first twenty
(lollais, but finally reduced to four dollars, the former
sum heing more than could be extorted from poor men
with poor implements working ground which had been
abandoned by the superior race.

'23S

TUO .SIDES OF A VKX1;D QUESTION.

ri'H;':. ''

Thus it oocuned tliat not until tliu uttnost limit
of their country had been reached by westward push-
in>>' settlers, on the shores of tlio Pacific, did the people
of the United States take thouijlit of what they Jiad
hern doing-, California beinjjj the first to enter a prac-
tical protest against the unlimited and indiscriminate
admission of foreigners.

But before this the evil had been done. The re-
public had not posed before the world as the land of
limitless freedom during a century or more; tnr
nothing. Low Euro})eans had come hither in dr()V(s.
lowering the standards of intelligence and morality,
and [)olluting our pt)litics.

Nor was the ground taken by California in opposiiiir
foreign imminration reasonable or tenable ; her atti-
tude and action did not arise from the honest and sin-
cere convictions of her best citizens. Instead of level liii*>'
her influence against the princijde, she made war aloiu;
on an hidividual (dass, on a single nationality, not In
any means the one that had done, was doing, or was
likely to do, the greatest injury to the connnonwialtli;
indeed, it was the most harmless class of all, its (diicf
offence being the only one which was never mentioned,
the fact that it would not and could not vote.

The general government took the matter (juirily.
It could not yet see any great nustake it had made:
it would not see the cess-pools of innnorality in all tin'
larger cities, and liow filthy had become its piditics;
above all, it could not all at once turn its back upiiii
tradition and give the lie to a hundred Fourtli-ct-
Julvs, But in time demairogism made an ininics-
sion, and a reluctant <'onsent was finally secured to
exclude from our shores any further .accession of hiw
Asiatics, while still permitting low Africans and lew
Europeans not only to come to tlieir heart's content.
but to mingle in our government and bccom>' our
masters, attaining their ends b}' means so vile that no
honest man can enter the lists against them.

OUR TOO HASTY FOREFATHERS.

23y

Few enjoy hearing the unpopular side of a question.
Still fewer care to present the facts on both sides
of a diisputed proposition. It is a thankless task,
l)ii!iL;iii;4' down upon the head that undertakes it the
coiiiienniation of all concerned. We prefer our preju-
dices to facts ; we do not like enlightenment that dis-
tuibs our self-complacency. Nevertheless, every
question has two sidi'S, and it is not always time lost
to ciilmly look a sul)ject through, instead of shutting
tiir c\'t'S and surren<lv"ing to blind tradition, or bel-
lowing for whichever }>ro}>osition pays.

The Chinese question rarely receives notice on niore
tiiati one side, and at the narrowest part of that.
Liki' iilmost every dis[)uted point, it is not a point at
all. I)ut something wider and deeper than was ever
(Inanied of until it came to be sounded. As between
tlio Chinaman's side and that of other foreigniTs,
tlioro is indeed the point ; Imt it widens as we consider
Asia's side and America's, man's side and (lod's.

Ill passing upon, let alone proving, any ono of tin;
many [)ro[)ositions surrounding the main proposition,
wo encounter (|uestions as difficult of solution as the
main (question itself For instance, it has been gen-
erally held here in America, as we have seen, that
iimnigration from Europe is desirable ; that 't is l)en-
ctirial to have our lands occupied as soon at possible,
reclaimed from savagismand placed under cultivation.
It' wo ask why it is a blessing, the answer is, the more
population the more wealth and development. But
arc poj)ulation, wealth, and development desirable
bet'oru every other consideration? Our large cities
liavo population, wealth, and devolopmeni:, and they
aie hot-beds of corruption, morally and [)olitically
rotten. Is this state of things in every respect so
inueli better than when the wild man chased the
wild buck over these now incorporated ground.s?
A;4ain, good lands are becoming scarce. The d(>-
scendants of Americans are rapidly multiplying.
Soon there will be no more new lands for them. Is

240

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION

imM '

I . 'i

it conducive to tlie highest good of the commonwealth
so hastily to partition soil among strangers^ Or if
it be best to have the land quickly occupied, should
we not discriminate as to the quality of humanity
admitted for colaborers in race and nation makitji;- ?
We certainly do not want the yellow-skinned heatlicn
to marry with our sons and daughters, and occupy
our lands; but do we want the black, bad-smelliiig
African, or the quarrelsome European ?

This, then, is one side of the question : that a low
class of innnigration is worse than none ; that it is
better for a people to do their own work rather tlian
hire it done; that the Chinese are certainly objection-
able, being heathen, filthy, immoral, and inexorai)ly
alien in heart and mind to all our institutions, social
and political. The other side is : that even if no im-
migration is desirable, if we admit anv we should ad-
mit all; that the Chinese arc no more objectionahli
than others; that laborers are required to devtlop
agriculture and manufactures; and that it is not d»-
sirablo that any low class of foreigners should amal-
gamate with our people or meddle in our politics.

If material development, the occupation, and culti-
vation of lands, and the unfoldinix of mines and man-
ufactures be most desirable, then we deceive ourselves
and malign the Asiatic in repudiating him ; for he is
the best man for that ]>urpose, better than the African
or the European. He works as the steam-eiit;inr.
the cotton-gin, woollen-mill, and sewing-machine Wdik,
or as the mule or gang-plow — that is he does the
most work for the least money, absorbs the least in
food and clothes, and leaves the wealth he creates for
general use, getting himself out of the country when
the country has no further use for him, not stepping
to agitate, or amalgamate, or try his hand at bribing,
ruling, and demoralizing the too susceptible Ameri-
cans, and carrying away with him the few metal
dollars which he has justly earned.

High wages may affect humanity, and raise the

MACHINES AND MACIUNEMEN.

241

stniulard of comfort and intelligence in the community,
but it is low wages that promote manufactures or
otlicr material development. It is idle to argue, as
nun will do, that the Califc^rnia raisin maker, or cigar,
or cloth, or leather manufacturer, can enter the world's
niaiki't and compete more successfully having to pay
for l;il)or two dollars than one dollar a day.

For twenty years Chinese labor has acted as a pro-
tective tarift*, enabling California to establish wealth-
creating industries, which form the basis of her present
and future greatness; and it would be about as sensi-
ble to drive out all steam-engines or other machinery
as lor this reason alone to drive out the Chinese.

Again, wages, the price paid for labor, is a relative
quantity. Low wages, other things being equal, are
no more detrimental to comfort and the general well-
being of the community than high wages with the
price of connnodities correspondingly high, and the
labor wage regulates the prices of raw material as
\v( 11 as of the manufactured article. Chinese labor
is in some branches little cheaper than white labor.
Tlif variations of wages are affected by the efficiency
and faithfulness of the laborer, and not by religious
belief or the color of the skin. In California a Chinese
cook now receives from twenty-five to thirty-five dol-
lars a month, and is generally preferred tc a white
cook at the same rate, particularly on farms, because
lif will do more and better work, and with less com-
l»lal)ilng. But the Chinese are becoming every day
ninre independent. They comprehend the situation
fully. Labor has no more conscience Ui'm capital ;
whi n there is a scarcity it raises the [)ricp.

The European assumes that he is a better man
than the Asiatic, in which position he "s upheld by
the politician seeking votes, by tradesmen deniring
custom, and by newspapers desiring circulation. Yet
lio is unwilling to enter the arena be.sido the !Mon'j;ol-
i;mi, put his superiority to the test, and allow compt-n-
satiun to be measured by merit, lie is captious and

KlJ.SAYS AND MI8CELLANY 16

242

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

^'i\

critical, alle<yinsj that he is liurailiated and labor dc-
graded thereby, thouj^h he does not object to follow
the horse or work beside a steam-engine. It is
mainly an excuse with him. When ottered work at
good wages he too often demands yet higher pay and
fewer hours, with the slowest possible movement of
the pick and shovel. He is quick to take ottcnco, and
ever ready to abandon work and smoke his pi])o on
the street corners among his growling companions.
He does not want to bo a laborer unless he can b(; at
the same time master, and rule in labor as in govern-
ment.

The solution of the new civilization's labor question
is not to be found in Adam Smith or John Stuart
Mill. There may be a return to New England's
early ways, when the farmers' sons and daughters did
the work, with or without a hired man or two, and
in the town factories the native poor found a place.
But if this is ever to be, something is to be done in
the meantime. Farming lands west of the Mississijipi
are not laid out in New England proportions. Tlmv
is more work than the sons can do, and the yoiim:
lady daughters will not cook and wash for tli(^ farin
hands. A million laborers are wanted immediately
west of the Rocky Mountains, not for purpo.st s of
purification, amalgamation, or social or political re-
quirements, but to plant and gather, fence lands and
tend stock, preserve products and develop manufac-
tures. They must be had, or the industries of this
country will suffer as never before. Where are they
to come from ?

iience it must be that in the minds of our oidi^ht-
enod advocates of immigration it is not material [>ros-
perity alone that actuates them in helping hither oix'
class of workers while repelling another and In tter
class. Is it pliilanthropy, then, that broad benevolend
which would bring in all the world to enjoy our liher-
ties and our lands? It must be sometliing of thi-^
kind. We seem to be suffering for amalgauinlion ot

THE VOTING-MACHINE.

243

linaliJjauiivtiou *'

some sort ; we have no desire to join hearts and minds

with those of the steam-engine, the mule, or the Mon-

yoliuii, and through union with these agencies liand

down to posterity our time-honored institutions.

Why not? We might do worse. We liave done and

are doing worse. While one part of the common-

\\\ ilth has hugged to its bosom the black African,

wlio is not half so white as the half-white Mongolian,

tlio other portion has been inviting equally objcction-

ahli! elements from the east. We have made our

iiiiistcr the low European, who has befouled our

jxiHlics and demoralized the nation more than all the

Mongolians or steam-engines therein. The cess-pools

(if luirope, which in the name of immigration wo have

hcen draining into our cities for the last centur}^ have

liiially raised sucli a moral and political stench as

should fully satisfy all lovers of America and haters

of Asia. Nol No Mongolian amalgamation after

this ! Rather let celestials sit here quietly and smoke

all the opium forced by England on China than make

iiioro American citizens of the world's refuse humanity!

LoaviniJt out our wortliv colored citi>:ens as not

worth discussion, the comparison narrows to the good

and i)ad qualities of low Asiatics and low Europeans;

for the inHowing of one or the other of those claK'scs

may serif)usly affect the future well-being and nd-

vaiu'cincnit of these United States. The question

aftrr all has so far been, not which, if either, is the

l)etter or worse, but wherein lies expediency ? Ti.is

is the aspect with our governors, legislators, and

ju(l'j;('s, likewise our demagogues and all who pander

to Selfish interests. Yet this is carefully kept in the

ha(k;.>;round, and sound argunients aro seldom touched.

In our government, the right of suffrage makes the

man ; it docs not matter if it be a lamp-post, or a sack

'»f hran, if it votes it is as good an American citizen,

so far as this great prerogative is concerned, as Daniel

Wchster or Abraham Lincoln. It is fortunate we

have so niany citizens already made, so much is de-

244

TWO SIIJKS OF A VRXKD QUESTION,

pciidont ui)on thorn. Could the Chinaman vote, tli^ iv
would be no Ciiinese question; could the Euroin an
not vote, there would be no Chinese question.

It is sDuiewhat remarkable that our Into im-
ported brethren from Europe could in so short a
time after coming to America, not only snugly cstali-
lish themselves as American citizens, and gain po.sst s-
sion of so large a part of the government, but couM
set the people at large barking against Ciiina, in t
only the ne\vspai)ers and politicians, but all who read
the newspapers and listen to the politicians. Tlo
politician readily perceives that by curshig China In
obtains votes, and the editor in like manner scds
readers. It is safe to say that there is not a siii'^ltj
public journal or politician on the Pacific coast to-day,
our worthy regulators from P]uro[)e being prcsint,
that dare come out and speak in favor of the Chuu^f.
It is remarkable, I say, such unanimity of opinion,
and that too where in far more trilling matters it is
the custom for these champions of free thouglit and
progressive civilization to take sides and fight, doiiii;
it upon principle, and because in fighting is the gicai-
cst gain. Our masters from Europe are deserving df
groat credit in converting so thoroughly and universally
our foremost men, opinion-makers, society-regulati'is.
preachers, teachers, and whiskey-sellers. Sucli is t! !•
power of the ballot in this conunonwealth, niakiii;4'
meal-bags of men and men of meal-bags, and graiitiiiLi
to all, with wonderful clearness, to discern the path
wherein their true interest lies 1

At the bejrinninij: of the jrreat influx into Calilniiiia
the American miner prepared with knife and pistnl to
pronnilgate the doctrine of exclusion against all forciu'.i-
ers. Teutons and Celts escaped with a growl, wliilo
the persecution fell heavily on Spanish-Americans
and others whose hue stamped them conspicuously as
aliens. They accordingly moved away by the tli'iii-
sands, leaving the more tenacious Mongolian to I'lar
the brunt. As the gold placers were skimni(<l of

ASIA AND KUIiOrK.

84B

id figlit, dolii.;

Icern tho patli

tli( ir surface attraction the American turned to nioro
jnolitiible pursuits, and liis wrath cooling', niadi; Irsa
nli)((tif)n to forcij^ners taking a sliaro in tlu; scrajMnns.
I!\( n tiic Chinaman obtained rcs[)ite awhile, and was
]i.iinitted to serve in humble capacity in the new in-
dustries unfolded. Stumbling here against the low
l!un»|»('an, the je'alousy of the latter revived the
biaouldering persecution.

l)Ut aside from all this, and placing the low Euro-
|i(;iii and Chinaman under analysis, what do we see?

Little to choose between them. Neither are very
(•oiikIv, nor very clean. John boasts a few thousand
y<ars more of nationality than the European, but the
hitter lias made the better progress. One shave's the
In ;i(l and braids the hair too much, the other too lit-
tli'. One has oblique eyes, the other an oi)h(]ue
mouth; one smokes opium and drinks tea, the other
SDK ikes tobacco and drinks whiskey; one is a jteniten-
ti.iiT I milder and police courtier, the otiier a high-
linnlcr and bone-shi{>per; and finally, one swears in
(iiie laniruaije and the otlier in another.

As regards relative enlightenment and debasement,
that depends on ideas and standards. Asia was cul-
tured while Europe was yet barbaric. There are few
Asiatics in America who cannot read and write to
-inie extent. To all appearances tlieir intellect is as
lui^lit as that of the Europeans, both being far above
that (if the African. The Chinese cpiarter in Sari
Francisco is more filthy than other parts of the city,
and the low Europeans do not so herd here; but in
Now York and London the low European quarter
fir exceeds in fever-breeding foulness any thing in
("alifornia. The Chinese are not always and alto-
!;'ether neat in person, orderly, docile, economical, in-
dustrious, tractable, and reliable, but they are more
^') than any other working class in America. The
!"\v Luropeans are not always and altc^gethcr turbu-
it'Ut, lault-iiuding, politically intermeddling, drunken,

t< li

'li!,'"'

f !

'HVO SIDES OK A VEXED QUESTION.

quarrelsome, brutal, blaspheming, but they are iiKiri'
so than any other working class in America. Tlic
Chinese have some prostitutes, but they are mostly
patronized by white men, who themselves have ten
to the celestial's one.

All the world is bidding against us in the labor niiirt,
offering work and its ecpiivalent at far lower ratis
than are ruling here. Professor Levi shows that in
1874 the common laborer received in England )?-■_' ;i
month; in Scotland $20; in Ireland $14; on the
continent of Europe $10; in Russia $0; and in Cliiiia
$3. How can we ex[tcct to develop our resources on
a large scale, when others are offering the products of
labor at prices so much lower, and are growing ncli
tliereby ? Yet we are told not to avail ourselves lure
in California of the low wages in China.

There are many objections to the Chinese and
cheap labor, for both, while conferring benefits, enf.iil
great curses. They make the poor poorer and tlu^
rich richer. ^lany producers and few consiumi-
make a dull market. Better restrain industrid an,
bition within prudent bounds and let our own * n-
dren do the work, and let all foreigners stay at lionic
We cannot christianize these leathery Asiatics; tlic
other foreigners are too Christian. There are advan-
tages in spending as well as in saving.

If we want our cities quickly enlarged, 1 .lO.OOO
European laborers imply 000,000 inhabitants, on the
hasis of four to a family, with homes, schools, tcniclicrs.
books, papers, churches, theatres, manufactories, aiti-
zans, traders, and professionals; 150,000 Chiiiaindi
signify merely that number of ignorant d* l)ascd
machine laborers, with very few of the elevating ad-
juncts of culture upon which to spend their eainin'j,s.
Moreover, the earnings of the latter do not remain
in the country, but are forwarded to China, at the
rate of several millions of dollars a .year, thus caii^inij;
an incessant drain on our resources, and that to a

ON.

nilNESK COM riTITION.

247

ihcv are ni<»rn

• 'PI
Lincriea. llu;

oy an; inosllv

Ivcs havr t< II

:lic labor iiiait,
ir lower rats
sliows that ill
']M;j,laiid !?-■- ii
$14; oil tho
; and in Cliliiii
ir rosourct'S (Hi
blio produc'fs of
) growing i <(li
ourselves licn^

) Chinese and
I benefits, eiif.'iil
loorer and the
few consul I ;ir-^

industiT'l an.

our own * li-
8 stay at lutiiic.
Asiatics; the
lerc are advan-

xrs^ed, 1.^0,000
oitants, on tlu'
lools, t(uu'lu'rs
ufactories, arti-
000 Cliiiiaiiu'U
orant debased

elevatinu' ad-
their earnings.
.lo not remain

China, at tlu'
r, thus (■aii>iii,i;
and that to ii

country whioli takes i)ut little of our exports, and sends
us in return the stapU; articles of food consumed by
the Chiiiumen on t)nr coast. It were surely l)etter
that C)iir cities should not be too raj)idly eidai'ged,
nwv inamiractiires increased, and our lands cultivated
under sii(di advei'sc conditions.

Chinamen intrude on oui' trade oflTerinj^' to work for
niontlis without pay; but having learned the art, or
stolen the inventions that have cost years of toil, they
t!nii upon tlie over-reaching employer, reduce him to
liaukruptcy by c()mi)etition and cheap imitations, cast
thr white workmen into the stret^t, and force the ap-
printices into hoodlumism. The white man nuist
suhsist, but he is obliged to compete with these cattle,
and consequently to live as meanly, feed as cheaply,
and leave Ids family in a like condition. • And society
will brand him a worthless fellow, and treat him ac-
cordingly if he fails to house and clothe the family in
accordance with its rules of decency, or if he allows*
his children to grow u[) in ignorance and vice. Here-
in lies the root of the evil. The Chhiaman by neg-
lecting to conform to our standard of life, undermines
our civilization and infringes on our social and political
laws. Other foreigners, of more cognate and sympa-
tlu tic races, learn to conform to our customs, if only
bv assunung the duties of marriaixc.

J^eliold the effect of debasing competition on the
wliite jiopulation of the southern states, where a few
grew wealthy at the expense of the community. The
class known as "low whites" was onci> composed of
liainy fimdly men and prosperous farmers, like those
who make this occupation so honorable and wealth-
creating in the northern states. The negro came, a
cheap competitor. Labor was degrading. The mas-
ter who formerly worked would no longer mingle at
the task with the slave, to whom labor was now dele-
gated. He grew rich and began to ignore his neigh-
bor, his former equal, whose larger fanuly, or smaller
estate, forbade the hire or purchase of a negro, and

248

TWO SIDES OP A VEXED QUESTION.

Ill i

obliged him to cling to labor, now already branded as
slavery Negro competition reduced the poor man's
income until he could no longer afford comforts, bare ly
necessaries, or education for his children. Bred under
such circumstances the son remained ignorant, grew
coarse, fell lower in the social scale, and was despistil
even by the negro, who fed well while he starv( d.
The "white trash" still remain in the position
to which they were thus forced ; for although tlie
negro is now free, and his labor the labor of the free
man, yet it still bears the stigma of the lower race.

The effect of prcjgressive civilization has been to
exalt, labor. Not long since the merchant was re-
garded as a contemptible usurer, the chaplain and
scribe as menials, the artisan and laborer as serfs, and
as such they lived meanly. Every advance in culture
has tended to increase wages, and to raise the classes
to greater equality. The merchant is now among the
foremost in the land, the chaplain, the writer, are
prominent members of society, artisans and laborers
share with others their comforts, luxuries, and insti-
tutions, and are prepared to contribute their quota to
sustain a civilization fraught with such blcssinu;s.
Shall we, by receiving another low race, repeat the
negro plague, and nullify these years of progress ?
The Chinese threaten to become even worse than the
negroes, for they have stronger if not baser passions;
they livi more meanly, and have no family orinton st
in the country. Our boys are growing up and need
a trade. The welfare of the comnmnity demands as
strongly that this opportunit}' shall be given them, as
it demands that childnui shall be trained in morals
and given a common-school education.

In building up industries by means of a low race,
wo establish them on an insecure footing, since an
alien people without family ties, and without desire to
remain, cannot become skilful enough to compete witli
the finished products of more hitelligent races, nor
furnish *hc inventive spirit by which they shall pro-

ANTI-CHINESE VIEW.

219

gross. One cheap industry demands another, based
oil similar labor; one branch drags down the others.
Imbued with our spirit, the youth objects to mingle
^villl the class whose degradation pollutes every in-
dustry. Hoodlumism and disorder are the result,
leading to national dcterioriation.

A struggle of races might ensue, resulting not in
tlio survival of the fittest, but of numbers ; for while
the white man surpasses the Chinaman and negro in
reasoning and invention they can outstrip hhn at lower
work and overwhelm him by numbers. The Roman
ciii[)ire sank with its culture before barbaric invasions
into the dismal slough of the middle ages. The vigor
and intellect of the Anglo-Saxon cannot be sustained
on a handful of rice. Blood intermixture is no loss
repugnant to the American mind than to the Asiatic,
liut slumld it ever come to pass, a mongrel race would
bo the consequence. The mulatto and the mestizo are
un([uestic)nably inferior to almost any unadulterated peo-
ple. The mixed races of IMexico are probably the
finest specimens of a hybrid })opulation on the globe.
Yet how inferior in enterprise, in originality, in pru-
dence, in ability, to the Spanish ancestor, or in many
respects even to the native Aztec. Social and politi-
cal anarchy and intellectual stagnation have over-
spread the land ; the spirit of progress has never truly
oveis|)i'oad the land.

Wiij^es will adjust themselves, and monopoly disap-
pear. Limited prostitution is considered necessary to
cluck yet darkt'r crime; but general immorality is
destructive. If Chinese, mules, or steam-engines are
needed in certain industries, cin[)loy them, but with
due precaution, within the reasonable limits of a pro-
tective taritf which aims to foster the best uiterests
of tlu; nation. So argue many.

Whatrvcir nhiy be said for find against the presence
of tlir Chinese among us, it is but fair to state thr.t
the evil has been greatly exaggerated. The question

250

•nvO SIDES OP A VEXED QUESTION.

Wf]

'■.I''.:)

li ij.

1 ■[

is not treated with that judicial fairness which it de-
mands; and it never has been. He who finds the
Asiatic beneficial is blind to the evils he brings upon
otliers ; and he who suffers from his presence sees no
good in him. The dark picture in the preceding paujts
applies only to continued immigration. So for tlio
benefits received from the Chinese influx, in laying
tlie foundation for many indispensable industries, sucli
as vineyards, irrigation canals, and the overland rail-
way, probably balance the evil inflicted in other
directions.

But by those whose occupation it is to pander to tlio
prejudices of the people ; by politicians, by legislators,
by our governors, our representatives in congress, and
especially by our printed exponents of public opinion,
more than by those directly benefited or injured by
the Mongolian immigration, are multitudinous warped
facts and false statements brouj'ht forth.

It is not the better class of laborers who most ob-
ject to the presence of the Chinese. Good men, capa-
ble and willing, can always find work, if not in the
city then in the country. There are no Chinese
among tho tramps that infest the country, begi^ing,
stealing, and burning. It is the idler and vagabond,
who want two days' pay for one day's labor, wlio
clamor loudly and get drunk regularly at elections ;
tliese, and women who will not work at all unless
everything exactly suits them, and will not go on to
the farm scarcely at any j)rice ; these are the troul»lo-
makers. California is the tranip's paradise. In a
land of freedom he is of all men most free, being
bound neither by money, society, religion, hone>t\-.
nor decency. He is not forced by a rigorous eliniato
into the settled habits required to secure heavy
clothinf*- and warm shelter. A blanket in a barn sut-
fices throughout the year, and a little work hero and
there secures food.

Much is said against peopling America from nalions
not cognate in thought, religion, and language. W by

BASE INTEllMIXTURES.

S51

•om nalii>ns

was this not thouglit of when we admitted infidel
l^]uropeans or Africans. True, these may assimilate
ill duo time, whereas the Chinese never can. But
assimilation with a bad element is demoralization for
tho mass, which is certainly worse than no assimila-
tion.

We rail against the Chinaman for lowering the
tone of our morality. Yet for one of his hidden cypri-
a'l- we have a score brazenly trailing their sliirts
aniono; us. For one of his opium dons we boast
wliiskey-shops innumerable, spreading their curse over
ini[)overished households, ruined constitutions, and
dohased minds, into future generations. And more ;
Cliina long since sought to suppress the opium evil,
but was forced at the mouth of Anglo-Saxon cannon to
stay tlie reform.

And now again in 1878 an imperial edict goes forth
proliibiting the cultivation of the poppy. Behold
Cliina struggling with her great curse! Behold
civilized Christian nations lending their aid to the de-
vouring drug, and then throwing it in tho teeth of
tlic Chinese that they are debased by it, and making
of it a pretext for doing them yet greater injury 1

As for their filth, slums, and disorder, as bad exist
in most large towns. Their pagan ceremonies, their
predilection for gambling and other weakness, do less
liiirin than many of our spurious sectarianisms, our
oprii races and j)ools, our veiled lotteries and games,
our prurient books and cartoons. Let us cleanse our
own skirts somewhat before we declaim so loudly up-
on the contaminating influence of these heatli(>n.

Some couple with this line of com[)laint the argu-
nu'iit that tlie family is the center and ideal of our
institutions, that all our refinenunt revolves round its
lialldwed altar; and because tlr^ Chinese do not estab-
llsli taniilics among us- -which, by the way, is not
true— their presence is hurtful.

Others declaim asjainst them for not assimilatinj?,
for not marrvint; our daughters, forsooth. Do we

2S2

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

u, I

wish them to do so ? The objectiou that they do not
come with their lares and penates as immigrants
seeking permanent homes should be put to their
credit, for assuredly we do not covet more foreign
ditch-water to be absorbed into our veins. They
keep out other immigration, it is said; this is by no
mean:; lui unmixed evil, I would reply.

AVe hear nmch said about the degradation of labor.
Our wives and daugl iters are degratk^d by working in
the kitchen with black or yellow wenches; our luiod-
lums are degraded by working in tlie fields and factories
beside j-ellow and black men. , But what shall we say
as to the degradation of our politics, our free and
noble institutions ? In places where women vote, you
may see the first man and matron of the connnon-
wealth, a statesman and his wife for example, a man
of means, having large interests in the community
and a woman of culture, drive up to the polls and
take their places beside a shock-headed greasy
negro, and a;, illiterate foul-mouthed European, and
so make their election, the vote of one of tliese
American citizens being no whit better or worse than
that of another. So with the thieves in our prisons
it is de\grading to associate, but witji our monopoliz-
ing and office-holding thieves we wine and dine with
great gusto. With such rank rottenness in social,
j)olitical, and commerrial quarters, it seems twaddle
to talk of the degradation of labor.

The quiet Chinese arc by no means the worst class
adn'itted, if restricted in number. All arguments
tending to show the unfitness of the Asiatic to l»e
entrusted with the ballot, such as the absence of any
knowledge of our institutions, the lack of responsihil-
ity or interest in them, the certainty that their vote
would be bouglit with money, and the like, apply
with equal force to the low European and the Afriean.
It is ]')ure political pretence, and tiie argument ollered
in that direction verbiage, to say that the ballot can-
not be confided to the Asiatic as well as to the

OUR DEBASED COVERNMEXT.

253

African. The average Chinaman is far brighter,
mote iutenigent, more energetic than the negro; but
110 lover of his country desires by any means to see
either of them ruling the destinies of this nation at
the polls. Are we not governed to-day by the low-
est, basest clement of our commonwealth ; by machine
voti rs under the control of politicians; by units under
the sway of bosses and monopolists ; by a majority
of all the people without regard to qualification of
any kind? How long shall our pure democracy, our
pure liberty, our pure license last ! As the Chinese
will neither amalgamate with us nor accept the
electoral franchise at our hands, the less can they
dran;- us down, the less damaj-ing their intluence

upon us,

Unjust discrimination is marked. From the first
occupation of California by Anglo-Americans, men
of every nation were permitted to gather gold and
carry it away. Thousands of English and Scotch,
Fronch, Dutch, and Spanish came and went, leaving
no bk'ssing. And yet they were never greatly blamed.
Many of our wealthy and respectable people spend
more in useless extravagance abroad than in beaut i-
tying or benefiting Californi?'. IMany of our rich
men have carried off millions, and spent largely and
invested largely at the east and in Europe, and yet
no one ever questioned their right. Money tricked
from the people by political knaves and stock gani-
Mtrs who never added a dollar to the wealth of
California in their lives, may be lavishly emptied
into th(^ lap of pleasure abroad and no thought
of complaint; but l(>t the niiscablo Mongolian carry
iieiK^e liis hard-earned pittance, and what a cry is
raised!

Fuither: that the Cliinese spend so very much
less of their wages than the Eurojwan laborer is not
correct. They patronize less the whiskey-shoi^s, those
bulwarks of American denmgogism, it is true; but
they buy flour, cloth ir.;^', rhcu-s, dry -goods, groceries,

1*.

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

meat, fruit, and many other articles, and tlicy are
great patrons of boats, staj^es, and railways. Tlioy
pay their government dues, poll tax, and property
tax, equally with those who are so eager to drive tlieiii
out. With all the complaint of starving laborers
seeking employment in our cities, it is a quest ion
if our average crops could be harvested without
Chinamen ; and many a farmer's wife is saved a
life of drudgery by John's ever-ready assistance
There are a number <jf industries, particularly manu-
faeturing, which provide employment also for white
men, but could not be sustained without the aid of
cheap and reliable Clnnese labor. Their suspension
would throw out of work not alone the men (on-
nected therewith, but cut off a series of dependent
industries.

If there is any difference, the Chinese have greater
cause of com[)laint from the unwelcome interferenci
of Europeans in their system, than Europeans havo (f
the baneful influence of the Clihiese upon thilr pros-
pects in America. By force of arms Europeans enttr
China; by general invitation, and under treaty si i] il-
lations, the Cliinese come to America. Ft)r( in;^
themselves upon the Chinese, the Europeans estal -
lished ])laces of business, ind began tradhig witli tlio
interior, greatly to the damage of native mercliants,
who, as they expressed it, "suffered fire and wat< r."
therebv. Hateful foreigners put steamers on their
rivers, to the utter annihilation of fleets of native
craft, thus reducing to starvation hosts of pilots,
sailors, and laborers. Within a few years thirty for-
eign steamers were placed upt)n the Yang-tse-lxIauLi:
river ah)ne, to the displacement of 30,000 wn.;(-
earners. And so it was with every material iniprovi -
ment Europeans sought to thrust upon tlieni.
Telegraj)hs and railways would deprive of employuu tit
thousands of worthy men, with wives and cliildrcn
depending on them for food. The mechanical con-
trivances are the cheap-labor curse brought by for-

AMERICA IN CHINA.

256

oijtncrs upon China. And liavc they not as much
Ciiusc to complain of our inroads as wc of theirs?

Tlie United States are reaping their si lare from this
invasion and longinu^ for more. When California f(>ll
iuii) the la[) of the union, China was sending away in
l'jur<)i)ean vessels alone one hundred millions of dollars
woitli of teas, sugar, silks, o[)ium, and other articles.
Ill the same quarter looms the commerce of India,
whicli, since the days of the Pharaohs, has enriched
tlic eini)oriums of Egypt and of the shores of the
Mediterranean ; also the important trade of Siam,
Corea, and Japan, with America and Europe. Nature
lias given California the advantage over all the world
iu securing and centralizing the world's trade with
China and Japan. Here may be gathered the rich
piuducts of eastern Asia, and hence distributed, passed
on eastward over the continent by means of competing
lines of railways, and over the Atlantic to Europe.
California is the natural entrepot and distributing
point of this valuable traffic.

Tliere is much to learn as well as gain in Asia.
America may take lessons from this wrinkled and
tootliless grandame of civilization. The dusky, almond-
ey((i sons of the primordial east, who reckon their
ancestry by scores of centuries, whose government and
institutions were ages oUl before Mohammed, Cjesar,
oi' Christ, regard with not unreasonable contempt the
upstart Yankee, with his European and Afiican mas-
ters, his inconsistencies of freedom, and his pretty
new republican plaything. In some things we are
t'oiiteinj)tible, even in the eyes of a heathen. Pro-
l'e>siiig Christ, we play the »levil. Swearing by CiJod,
we kneel before Satan. We talk nuuh of justice
— indeed, we have plenty; we buy it as recpiind.
We huild an altar of equal rights, honesty, and patri-
otism, and sacrifice upon it offerings of hollow mockery,
(leeminj; a lie with IcLjalitv better than a lamb, and
brilterv better than the fat of rams. At the siulit of
our [jolitical high priests, Confucius himself might

2r)()

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

liil

W'm

! ! :

:> i

Ijpli'i

well arise, make of the divine drug bread, and shave
anew his people.

There are unquestionable evils attending the prc^s-
ence in a free government of a non-assimilative riicc!
to which the electorial franchise may not be 8af( ly
confided, and I heartily agree with those who arii,uo
that because we have made one mistake in adopt iiiL(
Africa, it is no reason why we should make andtlicr
and adopt Asia. We do not want the low Asiatics
for our rulers; we do not want them as citizens. Like
the low European and the low African they are our
inferiors. The tone of our intelligence, of our politics,
of our morality, is lowered by associating with tlicni
on terms of intellectual, moral, and political equality.
As human beings, with human rights, all nun are
equal. The riglit to life, liberty, and the pursuit of
hapi)incss is the same to all, though all do not make
the same benefi'^'ial use of that right, and in so far as
they fail in this they are not the equal of those wlio
do not fail.

There are some advantages and some disadvantages
in non-assimilation. There can be no question tliat
the low Europeans have been a greater curse; to
America than the Asiatic and the African conil)in( rl.
The electoral franchise which we have so freely given
them has pluralized their power for evil. Had ilioy
never been permitted to vote, our politics had never
been so prostituted. Citizenship would tlien have
been a thing Americans might have been [»rou(l of.
Much corruption and many disgraceful riots would
have been avoided, and more than all, we should not
to-day be threatened with revolution and disriqitinii
by reason t)f our abased liberties. Because they can
assimilate, because they can become blood of <iur
blood ami bone of our Ixme, they are the subtle poison
in the vehis of our institutions to-dav. These aliens.
while crying against the grindings of monopoh>ts m
railwavs and manufactures, would establish in our

s;1

ABASEMENT OF AMERICA.

SS7

midst a monopoly of labor, and force us to cniplo
them at their own price. They would ignore
rights in the premises save those conforming to their
interests and prejudices.

It is assumed by many that it is our duty not only
to provide with remunerative employment all those
who have come or who may come from Europe and
from Africa, but that we are in duty bound to keep
back those who would come from Asia lest they
should interfere with the others. This has been the
tentleMcy of all our legislation, a protective tariff upon
labor, discriminating in favor of the European and
African, and against the Asiatic. I see no reason
why wo should provide for any of them.

The claim advanced by low Europeans is somewhat
audacious. They must be paid double the wages of
Asiatics, and be fed while the latter may starve; and
what is most remarkable, they have their way. They
have the whip-hand of California, the whip-hand of
poUticians and people, and make us do as they will.
They form into endless labor leagues, say "boo" and
'boycott," and instantly we beg for mercy. We must
ubty our masters or be punished.

Social organisms develop, they are not created.
And as every social element is the product of new and
strange combinations, the results in individual cases
fan scarcely be foretold. Intelligent and thrifty men
and women make a nation stronger ; ignorant and
degraded men and women make a nation weaker.
Base infusions are the bromine and chlorine which
dissipate the gold of our morality that sulphuric fires
cannot affect. If the Chinese lie an indigestible mass
ui»n our national stomach, low Europeans have given
us a worse political distemper. If the former, like
many of our most thoughtful citizens, manifest in-
difftrenco in the exercise of the franchise, the latter,
fresh from filth of poverty and ignorance, with no
more knowledge of our ways or sympathy with our
principh's than their late stolid companions, V'.th a

KssAYs AND Miscellany 17

258

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

'Ml

I •ii

mental whoop pluno-e into our politics as if divinely
coniinissioned to rule America.

Health, in the body social, consists in the propnr
performance of its several functions. Society i>i
sound only as the people are pure. When emcrnini,'
from a savage state societies first began to crysttiliizc,
physical strength and skill were the central or wor-
shipful ideal. Then intellect began to assume sway.
and to some extent brute force gave way befoic rea-
son in the settlement of disputes. But the success
through intellectual craft and subtlety, by whicli busi-
ness men, orators, and writers become wealthy and
groat, is but one remove from brute cunning and fnrco,
and nmst be subordinated to right and principlt\ to
tlie sensibility and the will, before the highest moral-
ity can be approached.

There is no doubt that to any country, at any
period of its history, and under almost any conccival !o
circumstances, the accession of men of learning, wealtli,
and integrity, of broad intelligence, skill, and euer^n-,
is a benefit. But with us the question has never as-
sumed this shape. Men of such a stamp do not as a
rule emigrate to new countries. They prefer the re-
fined and settled society of their equals ; they i)refer
to live among men of cultivation ^nd learning, and to
buy luxuries in the cheapest market. Those who are
successful at home seldom go abroad in search of V( u-
tures. Never have the rich or the learned as a class
come to America ; never have those superior in skill,
intelligence, and energy come hither from Asia, er
from Africa, or from Europe. A few men of extraor-
dinary intelligence and activity have undoubtedly ar-
rived, but most of our best men, I am proud to say,
are of home manufacture. We have no need of seml-
ing abroad for schoolmasters or for city-builders, and
if we adopt an invention or a discovery from beyoiul
any ocean, we are apt to improve on it, and also to
return an equivalent in some invention or discuvtiy

INTRODUCTION OF SLAVKUY.

iTii*

of our own. Nor have well-to-do artisans and aufii-
culturalists left conifortable homes to embark in liaz-
ju(l"U3 enterprise on these shores. Our better class
i)f farmers and mechanies are not foreigners.

Th(! iirst «^reat nustake of the Engl is! i colonies in
Aiiirrivi, Was the importation of Afiicans as slaves.
That cver-to-be-abhorred Dutch craft which in 1020
laiidt'd the first twenty black bimdmen at Jamestown
was the curse of God upon America. Tt was worse
tliaii the repartiinieidns of the Spaniard ; for the en-
slaved Indian would die, while the more stolid African
would not. There was too nmch work yet to be done
in America, too much need of that brain-force and
iiiuscle-force which only work gives, for the colonists
and their sons and daughters to fold their hands an<l
(l('l>end solely upon others for supi)lying their wants.
Hrnco the sting of the infliction.

African slavery,asidc from its inhumanity, was a
curse. It blasted the soil and the products thereof;
it blasted the air and all who breathed it ; it blas-
plienied God and humanity, morality, religion, and
all the institutions of progress. It had not even tjie
excuse of the slavery of savagism, as these negroes
wore not prisoners of war, but were stolen ; civilized
Cinistians stealing, and selling, and working human
beings like cattle.

For nearly two and a half centuries the evil grew
until, midst mi^ditv convulsions which well-ni<rh de-
stioyed the integrity of the nation, the tumor burst,
scattering its horrible stench far and wide, and in the
cure eiiofendering almost as great an evil as durinjj its
;4rowth. Having these emancipated chattels on our
hands, to the number of little less than four millions
in 1800, and being moved with pity for the wrongs
we had done them ; or, more truthfully stated, tJie
(loniinant party needing votes with which to hold
tluir power, this black and brutish horde was taken
to our national bosom, which has been rank-smelling
and sooty ever since.

260

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

riH

It was not until after the war of 1812 that lar<^'((
accessions were received from Eunjpe, and as new
western states were then rapidly springing up, the im-
pure atmosphere thus engendered was carried oil' into
the wilderness.

The current of immigration rose midst fluctuations
from about 4000 yearly between 1784 and l7()Ji to
22,240, in 1817. The stream broadened and deep-
ened until in 1875 not far from six millions of Europe's
indigestible masses had been vomited on our shon s,
the rate being since 1820 over 100,000 per annum,
not more than 300,000 having come over previously.
Of these, over 2,000,000 were from Ireland, over
1,000,000 from Germany, a quarter of a million
English, 50,000 Scotch, and about 200,000 Frencli.
Whatever may have been the material advantages of
these fuliginous clouds, the wholesale adulteration of
Anglo-American blood has unquestionably resulted
in tenfold as monstrous moral and political evils as
Africa and Asia combined has brought or is likely to
bring upon us.

To large land holders who wish to build cities and
sell the suburbs to manufacturers in want of artisans,
to merchants in need of customers, to lawyers looking
for clients, and doctors in quest of patients, to politi-
cians hankering for office, to traffickers, schemers,
and non-producers of every quality, the speedy peo-
pling of this land, and every part of it, seemed of all
policies the wisest and best, and of all things the one
most greatly to be desired.

It is only a question of time when America will
recognize her mistake. To behold America as it will
be, we have but to look at Europe and Asia as they
are. Europe and Asia overcrowded and with no out-
let ; Europe and Asia teeming with a rapidly multi-
plying population of ignorant and diseased humanity
with no America or Australia to empty it into.
Westward civilization has crowded, until on these

CROWDET) HUMANITY

Sftl

racific; shores wo front the oast. The circle is coni-
|iloU'. A few centuries, and in point of population,
in jtoiiit of packed and stifled humanity, America will
1k' wliut Europe and Asia now are, only worse, in-
tiiiittly worse, m having no outlet, save through war,
(.r jH-stilence, or other dire inflictions which shall cut
otr Infore its time portions of the redundant race.
Sucli iinoads are contracted however by our civiliza-
tion, whicli tends to the preservation of life, and to
the speedier attainment of its geographical limit. The
law (»t fecundity alone promises to increase our number
witli every successive generation, while the sources
for footl supply are correspondingly decreasing.

However this may be, there is no danger of imme-
diate (Hstress, either from lack of land or increase of
l(o|»uliition. There is still left considerable good laixl,
whili! ill crowded and well-tilled countries like Eiiolaiid
itoricultural products may readily be much increased.
Fiance does not produce proportionately as much as
Mii;4laiid, and America is far behind France in this
ivspcct.

This aspect renders only more glaring the huddling
ill our cities of hordes of hungry laboring men and
women, especially inflowing foreigners, howling against
tlie rich, when by scattering on unoccupied lands they
iiiiylit prove a blessing to themselves and to tlie
ttiuiitry, and banish poverty from America these hun-
dred years to come. From this gathering result the
many uncalled-for strikes, riots, and disorders which
liaw disgraced our republican organization before the
wiiild. They are due to sucli alien rabbles as in San
Francisco meet upon the sand-lots and threaten fire
and pistol to all who employ Chinese labor hi prefer-
once to their own.

Not long ago with pointed bayonet we demanded
coiiiniercial relations with China; now our bavom ts
are pointed agamst those whose friendly interct)urse
wc so lately coveted. It is not the ultimate aim
herein that we detest, as it embraces nmch good, but

2i;-j

TWO SIDKS OF A VEXED QUESTION.

1 ■ ', !

1 ■'■

111'!. J. d

!1;

the means employed and the manner of it. In view of
this, W(,'ll mii^ht we exckiim witii astounded Eui<)|h':
Our eivilization and eliristianity, our hoast(;d lilidtv
and free eidis^litened institutions whicli aspire to si t
the world an cxani})le in proL^ress and prospciitv.
what are they that they should fear the weak aiid
inotfensive touch of paganism? What folly in us to
heaj) curses on others for ])ractising the very viitm s
we preach daily to our children I

We have suddeidy ijjrown strangelv conccMiKd,
fearful least a hundred thousanrl Asiati«-s, b'-'^giiii; at
our back door the favor of scrubbing (»ur kitclicus,
that these shrinking, trembliMg creatures shmild at
some day, not far distant, arisi- and with a wave of
their hand overturn and scatter to the four winds the
institutions of fifty millions of freemen. Fifty tlmu-
siind Englishmen in Bengal hold in subjection one
huiulred million souls ; and here fifty million Aiiuri-
cans tremble before^ a hundre<l thousand Chiiiaiiuii.

Asia and America acknowledged the right of uni-
versal and unrestricted migration in tlie J^uiTnigaiiio
treaty. In its fifth article i>oth "coi'dially recogiiizr
the inherent and inalienable right of man to clian^v
his home and allegiance." After having traiiiplMl
down tlu; scruples of thismummyfied eastern ci\ ili/a-
tion so far as to obtain this concession, we iiii'iiit
l>lush to be foremost in breaking the compact, and ;n'
knowled*j;in'j: lu'fore tlie world that oui' instil ntieas
are unable to withstand tlie presence of heatlieni>in
among them. Our lil)erty. our Christianity, our intellj-
gence, our progress are nothing if they do not etli r
mankind a fairer prospect, a brighter ho[)e, a sinvr
nnvard. No doubt we have ix'en hasty in this as in
many other nieasures; but if we wish to acknewl-
oAgv. t]w mistake, and n-vise our l^olicy, then let our
new ruling iipply equally to all.

One quality the people of the TTnited States liavt^
developed in a remarkable degree-- that of strain.

AMERICAN STRAIN.

And very properly we may catalogue it among our
many virtues. We delight in the accomplishment of
grc.it things. To accoiuplisli great things wc are
willing to strain ourselves. Sometimes we strain our-
sdvi's over little things, thinking them great. Often
we strain at the gnats of iniquity and swallow a
camel. Wi^ strain at skepticism and swallow lilnTtin-
ibMi; wo strain at political tyranny and swallow mo-
iin| oly; we strain at the low Chinese and swallow the
liiw l']iiroj)oan.

Perhaps the best way to cxtermin,\i? a national or
gorial evil is for all the people to rush upon it with
0!ii' accord and stamp it out. It may sometimes he
the only way. It may he the best way so to magnify
this one evil, tiiat all other evils. tii(»ugh there be
among tiicni some as great or greater than the one
present pet evil, shall tein|K)rarily sink to insignifi-
caiu't^ beside it. Perhaps this evil has become so rank
thai the united power of the people is required to put
it down, and in no other way can the strength of th"
nation be so concentrated as by takuig up one thing
at a time, or perhaps two, leaving all the rest alone
until these be extinguished.

There nmst be sonie tincture of fanaticism on the
suhject in order to bring men's minds to tlie proper
state of frenzy where thoy can strike quick and heavy
blows, regardless of the conse(|Uences. Cool opinions
quietly expressed are lot suttieient to Hto[) di'am-driidt-
in!,'. The matron's scowl of superior virtue on meet-
\n<f an errinti sister, is not sntheient to i)ut down
prostitution. There must be thrown mto the caus(!
tlinf, (iery heat which can only be generated by con-
<;i'0'4ation3 wrought upon by speeches and discussions.
Hut as to these, our standard evils, gambling, drink-
iti'.', Mild prostitution, which the world has tried so
oft'Mi and so unsuccessfully to eradicate, though there
an^ still spasms of reform m these directions, we gen-
erally have singled out some other monster to vent
oui righteous energies upon for the time.

264

TWO SIDES OP A VEXED QUESTION.

For fifty years the good people of the northern
United States took solid comfort in fighting the great
dragon Slavery. In some sections this iniquity on
tlie part of our neighbors stood out in such bold relief
as to throw into the shade all the sins of the decalogue
conibiiied. In the eyes of the anti-slavery fanatics,
nothing good could belong to any man who did not
denounce slavery and the slave holders; and so filled
with this frenzy were they, that no room remained in
their minds or hearts for minor matters. And wlun
the tiling was dead they could not refrain from kick-
ing the carcass for years afterward. Temi)L'raiice
zealots, too, sometimes forget that drunkards have
rights, and may as justly prescribe what others shall
eat, as to be by law restricted in their drink. Nor is
it so easy a question to determhie which of the two
evils is the <;rcater, negro suflfrage or ne-j^ro slaver v.

This may be the best way, the quickest way, the
only wa}', even though it does lead to some excesses
when the blood is up ; even though we are thereby
thrown into some absurdities, and forget ourselves,
forget to exercise that right and reason which we so
nmch desire always to see in others, forget that we
are all sinners, that none of us live up to our Ii'il::!!
privileges in every respect as social beings and citizens,
and that if we punish some offences unduK' while let-
ting others run at large, we are committing two i^icat
wrongs, in punishing one wickedness more than it, de-
serves in comparison with another which is permitted
to go unpunished, or so lightly competed as to L,'ive
the imi)ression that it is only a small sin.

Of late we have singled out two of our several
great dragons, and are expending all our energies in
their extermination. This is well; but it is well aUo
not to lose our heads and fall into all manner of lyings
and self-delusions. Probably there has never hei ii
as nmch nonsense written and sjiokcn in Ameiiea u]i-
on any two subjects, as u])on those of polygamy and
mongolianisin. And in both eases the true eau-o

EXTERMINATION OF EVILS.

2G5

of ofrcnsc, tho matter of suffrage, is in the main left
wlinlly out of tlie discussion — one votes too much aiul
the other too little. In both cases about the only
p.rsoiis affected are the demagogues, whose business
it is to pander to the prejudices and depravity of the
|Kn|tlo. Nt)r is the strange part of it that in our free
',111(1 easy govern njcnt the management of affairs should
bo so largely in the hands of false aiid deceiving men.
—some of them self-deluded, unquestionably — but that
the jiiople at large should be so easily and completely

gull I'd.

Ill concluding this exposd of the Chinese question
we may say then: That the presence in our midst,
ill tNir- increasing numbers, of low Asiatics, is a
]i;ilji;ible curse; and for the people of the United
Stages to [)ermit them to swarm here ad libitum would
be about as sensible as to welcome a })lague of locusts.

They are an abomination, worse than tho gypsies
in l^ll^land or the Arabs in Spain. They lie, anil
teal, smoke oi)ium, and gaml)le; they ciioat, and
swear ill horrible heathen gutterals, to the horror (f
white Christians. The Chinese are clannish, crnwd-
iiiu tlinnselves into close, filthy quarters; they work
till, iiiucli, loaf about the streets too little, and do not
i^lH'iid niont'y enough. They do not get up strikes;
tlicy are not g(M)d stump-speakers, they do not care
to cut a figure on the ffoor of the national senat(! cham-
1" r, they do not want to be governor or policeman.
Wliitc men do and want all these tliin<>s. The Chi-
IMS'' do not amalgamate: thev ^vill not marrv our
ilaii-litcrs, or seduce our servants; they will not at-
t< ihl mass regularly, or be punctual at an orthodox
I'il'le cla.ss. They take the food out of the mouths of
nth. rs lately imported, and now })atriots at the polls.
pitroiis of the corner groctny, curb-stone tenders,
witdiers of the public weal, and who very rightly
sofii to shovel dirt never so sh)wly for less than two
•li'llars a day, while the destinies of the nation are
nstiii^^ on their shoiddei-s.

Tin 11 again we are very sure that the four hundred

5 ,« ,

« ' I',

II I

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

millions of these people over the ocean, who liiuo
linrdly standing room, liavo sent thcsse fifty or a liiui-
divd thousand to our shores to open the way for the
four ]iun(h-('d millions; who are even now makinj; iiiid
huyin:;' a million of ships wherein to come and cajituic
us all, to seize our lands and make us slaves. Jl is
too horrihle to contemplate; W(! nmst send those who
are here back at once, and forbid the four huiididl
millions to come in their million of ships to capture us
and make us slaves.

It is quite different with the low African and tho
low European. They do not work too mu<'li. or ju too
low a waj^e, or economize too much, or pass i)y id! the
<ii'inking shops without lookinjjf in, or nej^lect to run
up a 1)111 at the butchers if they can get trusted ; tli'v
will an»algamate, make themselves at hom<! in < iir
houses, do our voting, beg, and steal, and breed Ik i:-
gars and thieves, build and fill our j)eniti'ntiaii(s. i^d
to congress, and read a news])aper. This is tlie iiiiid
of populatien we want; it is for the helping hillicmf
such as tliese that we have innnigration societies and
secure larg(> con tribuv ions.

lVr]inp.s it would be too much for me to ;t>s( it
that not one in a. hundred of the intidligent nn i; ct'
C'difoi-nia are realh' sincere in their tiraxh^s auaiiist
tin- Chinese. No doubt they have ac(|uired the ludiit
of regarding these special peojde as an unniitigaftd
evil, even while cieploying some of them as larni cdnks
and in like oecujtattons, ii, which they excel, and w hiti
men and women do not care to engage in. Jlul this
I can say, that no < l(>ar-]ieaded, unprejudie< (h faii-
minded and (.lisinterested man can endorse the ship-
loads of twaddh; constantly being writti'n and spnki n
by demaivo^ues of everv denomination about t!i • dan-
ger to our institutions, and the demoralization of nui
people by the (.'hinese. They are \(*\\, ignorant. d( -
based, and filthy heat lu-n ; wc likiiwise ]ia\( ji.w, i^nnr-
ant, debasc^d. and (illhy Cliristians. Whieii ait tin
worse.'' We want n»Mther, but why shigle out tho

HOLLOW orixioxs.

207

A: liitio to vent upon hiin this indignation, wliicli is
the usult wholly of our own folly? As numy .sound
atiiuiiu'iits can bo brought against tolerating here tho
Ati icaii, and twice as many against tho presence of
thr low Kuropean.

In tact, sound arj^'umcnts arc seldom touched in
this connection. Tho true cause of our special dislike
foi' tli(^ Chinese is kept carefully concealed. The pol-
iticiiui docs not mount the stunii* and say that the

i 1/

Chinaman nmst go because he has no vote, but my
lihirk brotlicr and my white brotlier may stay because
tiuv have votes. Tho n('wsi)apers do not adnut that
tilt y say the Chinese must go because it is easier and
iiKirr ))rofitablo to foster current opinion than to en-
li;i,f!iti'n the people. The minister and missionary do
lint admit tliat they say the Chin(\sr must go. because
tii'X would lose their situation if they [uvached against
p('])u]ar })rejudico.

It is b(>coming an ajijuirently difficult matter for the
Ameiican jieople to please thmiselves i!i evciy |>;irticu-
hn'. Tliey s(!cMn quite satisticil to let the low European
rule tiiem through unprincipled demagogues, but tluy
jirofess not to li''e the Chinaman be<?ause he will n^t
!iiii;il;.'iimate and nu-ddle in poHtics. The IMornions,
on tiie other hand, amalgamate! too nmch. and aie ttut
many for their neighbors at elections; they vote oidy
lor th'ir own candidates, and so ]>oiiticians cry that,
tliev nuist go. Again, the Chinamen may have their
.h»s liouse and si'conchiry wives ti> iheir hearts' con-
tent. l)ut not so the Mormons.

It", as I have said, we could go l>ack fifty or a hun-
dred years, and say to ail h)W foreigners, whitt\ black,
and vidlow, ''This Amej'icaik land we want for our-
xKesand our cliildren; we jtrojutse to breed here a
siipeiior race, and we cannot have our Idood debased
hy constant interntixtures with the common stock of
• •tlii'r countries ; henc(> you caimot come here," — such
Uieiaid Taken wovdd have been clear, logical, and .sen-
silile. True, we might not have rolled up wtjalth and

2G8

TWO SIOKS OF A VKXKI) Ql'KSiloV.

po[)ulati(»ii SO rap'ully, but wo would have had what Is
far IxtttT than wealtli and population a noMii lair,
a purer «4<»vernmerit, a less artificial society ; \\v would
have saved our lands for our sons and daui;lit(is,
whom we niis^ht have taught to lai>or with tin ir
liands and brains, thus avoiding not one but a lauuhid
evils.

I5ut we did not do this. While one part of tlio
commonwealth was huu'^injj^ closer to its lirart tliat
monster, slavery, witii no small l>lood intermixtnit s
of white and black, tlie other portion of the nation
was sjn'tulini^ time and money in bringiuij;' to our slicics
th<' lower classes of Irish, English, Dutch, Scandinjn-
ians, and others of Europe, who presiMitly were put
upon an equality, politically and industrially, with tlie
higliest, tli(! most intelligent, learned, and weultliv in
our land. The most illiterate and stupid dolt, lately
from the bogs of Ireland or the coal-pits of Kn^land,
who had scarcely more inti-lliujent ideas about g(ivci!i-
luent and right-doing than a fence-post, could It'
brought over from Europe, and his vote at an cloctidii,
which a driidc of whisky would buy, was estimated ,1
fair offset for that of Daniel Webster; three of these
donkeys were equal to Webster, Clay, and Calhoun.

We usetl to [)rido ourselves that hero in Anieiica
should be throughout all time the camping-gruuud of
the nations. All the world were invited to come
)(ithcr and be happy and be free. Our gov«'rniii» iit
was the best in the world; it made all men free and
( quab no matter how many slaves it fostered, or how
many foreign vagabonds it made citizens. Whatever
nature had dorui, the Ameiican constitution was su-
perior to nature, and ma<le Caliban the equal of Tros-
pero. So higli-minded and free were Amerii-aiis, with
their rl(h lands and unapitcoachable institutions,! hat
they soon b(>gan to regard with disfavor tlu* ohhr and
less open-handed nations, and even went so far some-
times as to force Lhe gates marked "No Admittaii • .
No nation had a right to fence otfa part of this earth,

UNDER OTHER CONDITIONS.

2G9

wliicli was made by the creator of all for the free use
(if all, and say, "You shall not enter here."

In all this a great mistake was made. Free religion
is Wfll I'uough, for heaven is large, and hell is larger
still ; hut lands are limited, and whatever may he said
ill our self-glorification assemblages, whatever we
think we believ(^ about it, our true opinion of our free
and enlightened institutions is shown when we take
I IV the hand and politieally make first our equal, and
tiii'ti our master, ignorant and rank-smelling foreigners
tit only ft>r tcaiding swine.

Hut fortunatiily we have learned the lesson in time
to a])[)ly it at least to the people of one nationality.
It' with the h)W A-siutic we could at the same time
krrp out the low African and the low European, it
would l)c better still, but we should be thaidvful to
have had our eyes opened at last, and have taken
steps to ke(ip away one bad element, even if others as
had arc perinittiitl to come.

Had no low-born f)reigners ever been admitted,
our sons and daughters would have been obllt'ed to
work, and work is strcmgthening and ennobling. It
develops body and mind as no other condition or in-
vention can do. The highest and healthiest civiliza-
tion is not found aiono' the most fashionable streets of
Boston and New York; it is in the more rural <lis-
tiiets, when; life is less .artificial and Indlow, and men
;iiid women work wuth head and hands, living j)iously
and virtuouslv, and Hearing sons to take; the foremost
plaers in the marts of commerce and tlie halls of Icgis-
l:ition. Young men and women brought U[) in the
liot-hcds of our cities to tlo nothing but minist(>r to
tlitir own selfish and to») often sinful pleasures are as
a rule of little or no value. They come and go like
the soft south wind, leaving no mai'k.

Xow the Chinaman, howsoever d<'graded he is, is
^ thin;j,' that works ; ho works <liligently, and econo-
Miizos closely, so tliat he may have enough to buy
liiui.self a small-footed wife when he goes back to

370

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

I'iM

Cliina. TJut Iiowever valuable sucli qualities may be
ivgarded in our children, we do not like tlieni in tlie
imported heathen ; we do not want the Chinese luie
to deprive our children of the great blessings of lulior.
True, tliere is the African and European, wlio soiik'.
times work, and wc permit them to come, but tliut is
(juito dirtVirent. They do not work much, or vi ly
hard; and then, after due washings and bleachiiiL,'s
they intermarry with us, and by and by go to coiigix ss.

The resulting i)ro«j:env, it is true, is not of the host
stock; there is too niuch mustang m it; and dis-
tributed generally throughout all tlie states of the
union, with its never-ceasing inflowing current, it
tietcriorates and dwarfs tlie wliole mass. But even
if the efleet is bad, we like the disposition. Wc do
not wish to have the lieathen come here and look
down on us, our daughters, and our institutions; we
do not wish when tiiey have washed our d(n)rst( ] s,
to have tluMU take the half dollar and spend it in
China, though speculating manipulators may swindle
the people out of millions, and spend their ill-gottrn
gains at the east and in Europe and have nothing
tliough.t of it. Speculating manipulators are imt
Cliincise ; if tliey were, it would have been a gi'cat
blessing to this coast.

Hence I say tliatthe rise and development of ojiinion
in California on the Chinese question presents one of
the most singular anomalies in the history of liuiiiitii
societies. It is not so strange in the conclusions arriv( d
at, that the Cliinaman here is a imisance, an uuIm'-
liever, un-American, and altogether an unclean thiti;.;
not wanted in our midst — this is not so strange as is
the method by which we reach such conclusions.
The arguments employed are so fallacious, the ground
taken so fanatical, as to make a disinterested ohst iver
question our sincerity or sanity.

Going back to the beginninjj of Anglo- American
occupation in these parts, and the rnsh hitlier of nii ii
from every quarter upon the discovery of gold, and

ILLOGICAL ARGUMENTS.

971

ors arc in it

wo find tlie great Ainerioaii miner promulgating with
kiiit't! and pistol tlio doctrine — not that Asiatics alone,
or lunn; than others, should stay away, but that no
foit igners should bo allowed here. So thoy made
raids on Chinese and Mexicans, Frenchmen and Eng-
JishiiKii — in fact upon all foreigners, killing some and
taxing all severely on the grouiul that we had beaten
^jrxico fairly f)ut of these gold fields, and that conse-
qut'iitly the gold was ours, and not to bo scooped up
and carried to England, or Egypt, or China. Whether
right or wrong in this, they were at least reasonable
and logical in their proposition and deduction, and
that is more than can be said of our peoi)le to-day.

The American miners, after some beating and kill-
ing of Mexi* ins, Chinese, and Kanakas, with occa-
sinna! growls at Englishmen, Irishmen, and French-
nii'ii, the placer mines meanwhile having been skimmed
of their surface richness, concluded that it might be
just as well to let foreigners have a share in the scrap-
ings, hut to tax them royally for the privilege. Of
coiiise the persecution fell heaviest upon the weakest.
Under tliis treatment the Kanakas soon withered;
the ]\[exieans returned to their homes by the thou-
sands, the Europeans gradually moved off, leaving
the Chinaman to catch the full force of the blows the
gjvat American man continued striking in defence of
his hie, liberty, and sacred honor.

it is just a little farcical to see our great American
men fume and bluster over these little Asiatics, who
with others came here by invitation, and tluit of not
so very old a date, threatening to anniliihitc them,
til " diaw 'em all up," as did the giant to Jack, uidess
incoitinently they go away and stay away ; es[)ecially
when these same blusterers were so lately before the
Avails of China, in company with their English breth-
len. threatening to batter down their gates if they
AViiuld not let them in.

If is just a little comical to see the white skins of
this exalted Christian civilization in deep disgust cry

272

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

■I

ii'

V ^!

"pall!" to tho smokers of the divine drug so lately
forced upon the reluctant Asiatics at the point of tho
bayonet.

As the years passed by, time and whiskey weakened
tho arm of the honest American miner, so that the
Chinamen, burrowing as harmless as mules hi tiiiice-
worked-out river bars, found some respite. Moic of
them came and entered uix)n other pursuits, such as
washing clotlies, cooking, digging ditches, making;
railroads, and working in factories; for tlu-y proved
to be handy and not much given to drunkennOss.

B'or all this the true American man cared notliiiiLr;
he did not wish to cook, wash clothes, or work (tii a
railroad; ho could do bettor; in fact he was glad to
get in this wilderness so docile and efficient a. ^cin ant.
to relievo himself and family from some portion of
their drudgery. And had these two races been left
alone in the matter, nothing njore would have coini!
of it. There would have been no bugbear talk of a
Chinese invasion, for the American man well knew that
he had no reason to fear that the Mongols who had
walled themselves in for thirty or sixty centuries were
all on a sudden to pour forth from their gates, buy a
hundred thousand ships and come over and cai)tii)o
the United States.

Had there been none to interfere between the groat
American man and the little China man, nothing would
have been said about the pittance of gold the drmluo
carried away with him when he went home, lea\ iiiL(
in its place the fruits of his labor in the form of a
canal, or railroad, or other useful accomplislinient,
any more than we would think of complaining wlu ii
the stock-jobV)er or monopolist carries away to the east
or Europe his stolen millions, leaving along his trail
thousands of shattered fortunes and moral and politu al
debasement.

Nothing would have been said about the poor pii,'-
tail's religion; let him have his little gods, and scatti r
papers to the devil; what harm can it do? Xotliing

l^\

ALL VERY LOW.

27.1

would liavo been said about indilTorcnco to citize isliip
and aiiialgaiiiation, or refusal to go to congress. Who
uuiiis tliut good and patient servant, tiie niuic, to Ije-
come an American citizen, and who wants his blood
dt-luisc'd by mixture witli that of the Africjin or low
Kui(>[Han ? And yet the nmle, the ntgro, or tho
Kuiujuan were never so persecuted as tlie Chiiiesn
jiiivc been. And tlie Chinaman is more a nec(>ssity
in ( alifortiia to-day than was ever the steam-engine
or «j;aii!^-i)l(>ugh.

Whether or not a mistake was made fifty years aofo
in iiiliiiittiiig freely a turbid stream of population from
Europe, which our peoi)le liad constantly to absorb,
to tlieir eternal debasement, it is very safe to say that
it was a great mistake to let this element conie in and
l)m)iiie our rulers. To liave made the nmle a voter
and our ruler would have been no more foolishly ab-
sui'd tlian to make a voter and <jovernor of shock-
hiaded Africans just emancipated from slavery. For
such i)rivileges and offices the Indian has more rights
and the Asiatic more intelligence.

liut call this black enfranchisement a piece of ])lea8-
antiy on the part of republican j)atriots — at whi<'h
game they tlid not win largely — there is still a darker
clcnu'iit in our pt)litics. The greate^jt curse ever en-
tailed ujion our government and institutions was in
giving the low European a hand in them. Herein
lies the cause of most of the political vice and corrup-
tion of our large cities; herein lies the cause of our
pinstituted rights of hitjh-minded and honoral)le s(df-
gewiiiment; herein lies the cause of all California's
trouiiles over the {)resence of the Asiatics. Instead of
<'ursiiig the Chinese for having no desire to nuiddle in
••Ml' piilities, we had better curse ourselves for vvvi hav-
ing allowed the negro and the low European to do so.

Pythagoras divides virtue into two branches, to
"^(vk truth and to do good; whereupon we may con-
'ludi' that the person or people who do the contrary
itiv vieious. Nor will ignorance or inexperience suf-

KssAvs AND Miscellany 18

'^U

274

TWO RIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

fice as a ploa for wrong-doing. The immoralitios of
conventionalism are no less fatal in their eti'ects than
the immoralities of inherent viciousness and del)a^('-
ment. Good citizenship comes before pleasurahln
gratification or the indulgence of tastes; it begins
with right conduct in the family, and ends in ri^Iit
conduct in the state. All rational human activities
mav be ranged under three classes, thouuli not
wholly separable: those which tend to the niaiiiti-
nance of life, those which tend to tlie hiijfhest snciai
and political relations, and those whicii elevate the
tastes and gratify the feelings.

No doubt many of the champions of the anti-Cliincsc
cause have been converted through their own [)er-
sistcnt and dogmatical assertions. But they can
hardly help knowing that the arguments they u:-o
in su})port of the cause are fallacious, and their state-
ments are not always borne out by the facts. A dis-
interested observer cannot but feel that nine tontlisof
these assertions are insincere, or if those who utter
them really believe in what they say, then is tlie
standard of intelligence low indeed, while hnnibnn' ami
hollow cant hold in subordination our politics, our
morals, and our religion.

It is not the Asiatic, but this same turbid stream
from Europe that debases our blood, discolors our
politics, makes of republican government a farce, stirs
up strife, and lowers the standard of our morals. It
is not the Chinaman who does this, for he will ii<«t
mix himself up in these affairs. The mule, at work
upon the highway, does not affect our standard of
morals, no matter what may be its habits, however
filthy, or however different from humanity. So witli
the Chinaman; because he is not one with us, because
he will not mingle or interfere in our affairs, be( ausi

• • • 1

he likes his own gods better than ours, his own dicss.
his own food, his own customs — it is for these very
reasons that, like the mule, for many purposes, he is
our best and most patient drudge.

FILTH AXD IMMORALITY.

275

In regard to relative morality; it is by no means
a proved proposition that the Chinese are more filthy,
or more immoral than Europeans. The great un-
washed of Europe on their arrival here we take to our
hosoins; come election day we give them rum to
dritik, place votes in their hands, install them in the
various offices of our government, and make then.i our
masters. And thus in proporticm as we elevate them
we abase ourselves. With regard to the Chinese it
is not so. In the presence of the little almond-eyed
]ii'j;-iail we will assert our great American manhood.
He shall not vote. Ho shall not sit upon the benches
of our supreme courts of justice ; he shall not be our
master. Nay, we will drive him from our shores be-
fore he shall do any of these things, before he shall
swallow us up, before this little pig-tail sliall swallow
up our great American manhood 1

The Chinese in our small country towns are no more
fifthy in their habits than the poor people there of other
nationalities ; in all largecities of America and Europe
there arc quarters occupied by white people as filthy
ami as fever-breeding as any of the Chinese quarters.
The Chinese do not steal, or kill, or connnit adultery
proportionately more than white people. They have
soiiij system of purchase and sale of women for vile
]iur|)oses ; is that any worse than the American or
Eur()p(>an method of using women for vile purposes
without bargain and sale, without ownership or pro-
tection, but castinu: them out as men tire of them ?
And in regard to opium; will any one for a moment
maintain that this drug is one tenth part so great an
evil in America as alcoholic driidcs and tobacco?

I can understand how the politician, })andering to
f )tvign votes, whether as ])rovincial demagogue or
statesman standing on thf floor of the national con-
j,'resi^, feels called upon, whatever may be his tru(!
opinion, to denounce in season and out of season the
pre^ieMce of Asiatics in America. He would not lonor
ho a place-holder otherwise. Tlie newspaper Miat

I'll'

276

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

does not energetically and persistently denounce tlie
Chinese, and denounce all who do not denounce tliciii,
and that without regard to any honest opinion of tlio
editor, may as well close its office. Indeed our
teachers and preachers are all personally interested.
If they speak otherwise than against the Cliinose,
thoy could not retain their places for a moment.
But that the intellicjent masses should be so bounlit
over, shows two things — the extent and quality of
their intelligence, and also what effect years of strong
and persistent assertion on the part of newspapers
and politicians will have upon the public mind.

As I Iiave said, I do not advocate Asiatic immiura-
tion, or European, or African, or any other immigra-
tion, if only the lower classes come ; I advocate here
only common-sense and common honesty in dealing
with this question. I would urge upon our leading
men, whether of the press, the political arena, or the
counting-house, to stop pandering to these low foreign
voters by heaping odium, by false accusations, updii
a class less ofl'ending, less meddlesome, less trouble-
some, more industrious, and in many other respects
better than their persecutors, and whose chief crimes
are that they neither vote nor read the newspapers.

In fine, from the presence of Asiatics in America
flow essentially the same benefits and evils brought
upon a superior people by base elements from any
quarter. Even the irresponsible bachelorhood applies
to large groups of white men. As the low European
and the low Asiatic each differ in mind and body, in
characteristics and customs, so their effect upon us,
our society, our morals, our institutions, our agricul-
ture, manufactures, and general development arc each
different from that exercised by any other people;
and this difference is one of kind rather than of extent.

And when from our deep debasement wo shall
arise, peradventure, through fire and blood, and plnc*^
under our feet political libertinism, when we shall

THE NFAV BY-LAWS.

277

restrict the ballot within wholesome limits, placing
jiublic affairs in the hands of men of integrity and m-
tclligence, who have a stake in the community, then
should we write in the by-laws of our new incorpora-
ti(in:

That the infusion into the ranks of an enlightened
and ])rogrcssive people of any foreign facx jiojmli, or
low elciiient, from any source, is debasing to the su-
|jerior race.

But times and conditions may offer counterbalancing
advantages rendering their presence temporarily
profitable.

Ill no event, however, should a base foreign infusion
lie allowed to become citizens, or to participate in the
government, though possibly their clarified children
may bo permitted to do so.

The better class, the educated, the able and enter-
prii^ing, the wealthy, we n:ay profitably welcome.

The Chinese, such as commonly visit our shores,
being a low foreign element, their ])resonce is injurious
to the general and permanent welfare of America,

Africans as a class beuig base-minded and un intel-
lectual, their presence among us is not desirable.

Th(! influx of ignorant and low Europeans is detri-
mental to the highest well-being of America.

In equity, all classes of our population should receive
corn^s])onding attention to their demands for restricted
competitive immigration, and no nationality should
be favored above another in the exclusion.

Having reached the logical ending of the subject,
we might let it there rest. But it will not rest.
Tlicro is an aspect of the Chinese question outside of
pnlitirs, outside of the demands of other foreigners oi'
tlicir tools, the demagogues, and outside of any social
consideration. We may theorize as to what might
liave })een, or what ought to be ; at the same time we
may as well consider what must be, followin<j the
logic of necessity. Returning to California, and view-

278

TWO SIDES OF A VEXED QUESTION.

ing the Chinese question from the quarter where tlie
first liollow voice of office-seekers and politicians vvas
raised against them, and we ask, What arc we to do
without them?

Take from CaHfornia to-day Chinese labor and in-
dustries will become paralyzed, connnerce become sta"--
nant, and absolute ruin overspread vast agricultural
areas. So long and so loud has been the cry tliut
the Chinese nmst go, so blinded are the people to
the most vital interests of the commonwealth, tliat
they will not sec the approaching danger, or listen to
a word against their unreasonable prejudices. The
time will come, and indeed is near at hand when tin iv
will be the most urgent necessity for many thousands
of additional laborers. For unless we have sevcal
times more than are in the country now, we may as
well f.top planting trees, as there will be no one to
gather the fruit ; we may as well abandon at once
general manufacturing, and all those important indus-
tries which make a nation prosperous, and sit down
satisfied with our present condition with no liope for
future progress — yet not our present position, but
infinitely worse, retrogression, stagnation. Our land
for grain is worked-out; wo cannot return to cattle-
raising; fruit-growing, the coming chief and binlier
industry, will alone require ten times as many lalmr-
ers as are in the state at present, or the fruit from the
trees lately planted never will be gathered.

Where are the laborers essential to our prosi)crity
to come from ? Not from the sons of the soil ; tlioy
are too independent ; they are employers, or ]al)or
only for themselves ; the few who will hire themselves
out do not figure in the labor market. Not from tlio
African, who, as a free man is trifling, lazy, without
ambition, or any probable intellectual improvcuK nt, a
disgrace to the country, a foul stain in our politics.
His place is in the south, or in the jungles of Afriea.
Were he here in sufficient numbers, which is ik ither
probable nor by any means desirable, he could not bo

THE POLICY OF NECESSITY.

279

depended on as a laborer in our fields and manu-
factories. Mexicans and Indians of course are not to
be mentioned; Mexico is paying a premium for
Cliiiicso labor to-day. The European : wc have tried
him, and know to what extent and in wliat ways he
can and cannf)t be depended upon. Socially and
|n«liti(ally ambitious, captious in liis conceptions,
wedded to his cliuch and to towns and cities, from
this class some few are f;)und to work as mechanics,
but tlierc are not enough of them for successful manu-
facturing, and in country labor they are but an incoa-
sidcrahlo factor.

Wisely or unwisely we have placed ourselves in a
30sitl()n where certain work has to be done to avoid
aiuciitable consequences. It is not a question of
lieatlieni.sm, amalgamation, politics, popularity, or
what will please other foreigners; we requii'o to
liavj our fruit gathered, our shoes made, our wives
relieved from the heavier household drudgery ; other-
wise wo will have to take long steps backward in
progress and prosperity, and organize affairs anew, and
on a basis such as our forefathers should have done, and
arc likely enough to find ourselves worse off at tlio end
of another century than at present. It may bo that
our development would have been healthier and hap-
pk r if wo had invented and emp)loycd less machinery,
but we cannot tlirow away machines now v.lthout
serious inconvenience. It is clearly evident tliat the
Cliinatnan is the least objectionable of any human
uiachlno we have amomjr us.

CHAPTER XII.

THE JURY SYSTEM.

For twelve honest men have decided the cause,
Who are judges alike of the facts and the; laws.

— PiiUency, The Honest Jury.

The hungry judges soon the sentence sign,
And wretches hang that jurymen may dine.

Do not your juries give their verdict
As if they felt the cauiso, not heard it 7

—Pope.

—Iltulibras.

in^Mi

:l !.:'r

The mind of man, no less than the body, is born
under bonds. Thick black clouds of ignorance and
superstition encompass and overshadow it from its in-
cipicncy. Not only does darkness surround it, but
the lighli of past ages itself gradually merges in ob-
scurity before it. It sees nothing, feels nothing, hears
nothing aright. Nature it misinterprets. Of its own
self, its character, quality, origin, and destiny, it knows
little. In the vain search for its maker and dominator,
it sends forth dismal groans, fills earth, sea, and sky
with fantastic forms, places here a heaven and tlicrc
a hell, and in every thunder cloud and sighing breeze
a deity.

To emancipate itself from this thraldom is its
eternal struggle. To ascertain truth and falsity, the
real and the mythical, is progress. Often we see
portions of the race proceeding far in some directions
while lagging behind in others. Among wise men we
find the greatest follies. Nowhere are dis})laycd
greater absurdities than in the writings of the ancient
philosophers, the wisest among mankind in some
things. What shall we say of men capable of fair

(280)

OLD AND NEW CONDITIONS.

2S1

reasoning who for wounds had recourse to invocations,
aii<l for the gout apphed a weasel's tooth wrapped in
lion skin — though the doctors gravely quarreled, some
holding that the covering should be deer skin?
Coininon to every nation as household words are
many such absurdities, to say nothing of the multitu-
dinous minor superstitions of daily domestic life, all of
w'hieli luive not left mankind to this day.

To free itself from the constraining covering the
mind puts on when first perceiving its nakedness is
the sum of all aspirations, the end of all activities.
And in this effort to escape exposure, often it employs
divers suits and makeshifts, quickly arraying itself in
one before fairly casting off* another. In jurispru-
dence, and medicine, in merchandising and industries,
as well as in religion, we see numberless infatuations
from which the mhid is gradually liberating itself,
and ill no age more rapidly than the present.

Tlieso several makeshifts were not always unneces-
sary. On the contrary there is no evil, or what we
of to-day call evil, or any subterfuge under which
prooressive peoples have sought to hide their intel-
lectual nakedness, or any protection for their exposed
condition but at the time was essential, if not to life
it^ilf at least to progress. Unable all at once to cast
oli' its sombre raiment, to stand forth and eye om-
nipotence, to give unrestricted sway to expanding
tiiou^lit, the nascent intellect must blink, and stare,
and creep, and lisp before it can see clearly, walk
firndy, and reason intelligibly. War, worship, slavery,
usury, and the like were once superstitions, were once
blessings.

The right of trial by jury sprang from the advance
nf physicid and intellectual freedom. Its origin was
in no one lime or place. It was a necessity demanded
in the dawi ing community of tyranny, of great-man
Worship, the moment the mind had reached a certain
point in its progress. For several thousand years it
lias done good service ; but like many evils which were

282

THE JURY SYSTEM.

once Wcssini^s, society can now safely dispense with
it, would indeed be better oti' without it. The clr-
cunistunccs which called it into bein^ have chauft^d
in most countries. The people do not now ]ia\ c to
ti^lit with the sword for an acknowledgment of tlif ir
rights to a hearing in questions of law, legisLitioii,
and government; they are the law and the govcni-
ment. Between tliein and the judges there arc not
now, as formerly, antagonisms; the judges are tlio
servants and representatives of the people, and not
arbitrary or iiulcpendi'nt rulers, o[)posed in many
respects to the welfare of the people. Therefore, as
these conditions no lonuer exist, the necessities and
benefits once arislnjjf from them no loriiier accrue.
Progressive peoples may therefore look at the system
of trial hy jury apait from past benefits, considering
alone its present usefulness, and in so doing, douhtlcss
we shall find that the system may now be safely
end)alined.

Under the patriarchal regime the pater fannlias
was absolute ruler and the sole arbiter of disputes.
Revenge, or the personal vindication of wrongs, was
the primitive idea of justice; public crimes, and |iulilic
punishment of crime were a later development. \\\)vn
patriarchal and roving bands united as nations and
assumed despotism, with its attendant great-man wor-
ship, of necessity courts were established; but the
jury must not be confounded with the court, as is too
often done by legal writers. Jurors are no part of tlie
court. They consist of members of the community
summoned to ascertain the facts in a disputed ca^o. to
which the judge applies the law and delivers sentence.
When these chosen citizens have pronounced ou tlie
facts, they can return to their several vocations, lia\ in*];
thenceforth nothing more to do with the court tJmn
others. While England was not wholly ignorant of
the jury principle, the judicium dei and other ordeals
and divinations were in vogue, in which fire, water,
and red-hot ploughshares played conspicuous parts.

ORIGIN OF THE SYSTEM.

288

ei'c arc not

It was not many centuries aj^o that any acknowl-
e(];j,iiieiit by a ruler of personal inherent rights among
the govinied was a great gain. Since the concessions
wrung from despotism by tlie magna charta, trial by
juiv has l)een regarded as an inestimable boon, insep-
ma])lc; from free institutions. So sacredly was this
t.:(iitini(Mit revered, which thus secured to every arc used
Englisliman the judgment of his peers, the venlitt of
a jury, or the law of the land, that Lord Camden
adopted as his motto the quotation from the great
cliiirter, "Judicium parium aut leges terra)."

But long before magna charta was trial by jury.
Iiulcetl, in all civilized nations, before the existence of
regular codes, or of any theory of jurisprudciu e, wo
find the germ of the present jury system, sine e de-
veloped and moulded to meet the exigencies of time
and place. The system then has not one origin alone
but many. Its appearing was spontaneous, and not
the result of an}' act of king or parliament. To the
dicasts of Athens, to the corresponding judices of
Rome, to the Rachinburgen or Scabini of tlie conti-
nent, to the compurgators of the Saxons, to the Nor-
wegian Gulathing, to the Geschworncn-Geri( Itte of
Germany, to the sectatores and pares of feudalism,
and to other sources the system ptdnts for its origin.
Under the systems of ancient Greece and Rome we
see much in common with our own.

Tlie body selected from the dicasts of Athens for
hearing and determining causes numbered sometimes
five hundred jurors for a single case. A Scandina-
vian tribunal was usually composed of twelve or some
multiple of twelve. Over the dicasts presided an
ar( lion ; other deliberative assemblages had no pre-
siding judge. There was a time when at a Roman
trial the jury sat alone. No praetor or other officer
pri sided to regulate prbceedings and determine points
of law, but in every jury was one or more lawyers
who lent their aid to reach a verdict.

The deliberations of such tribunals as the Athenian

284

THE JURY SYSTEM.

okklf'sia and the Roman coniitia were irregular, often
violent, and tlieir decisions were the results ot'apptiiU
to feeling rather than to tixtd prineiidcs. Tumultu-
ous bodies of freemen having no presiding judge,
goverruid by no rule or precedcnit, were poor placus
for justice. The first iimovation on this metliod of
adjud'cation in England was the introduction by tlie
Nonniins of judges familiar with the forms of regu-
lar ])roce(lure as practised in lion)an tribunals.

The right of trial by jury comes to Englishnioii
more directly in the form of a victory. During ilic
dark centuries, prerogative or despotism denied sucli
a ri'>ht. Thouii'h in England under the Tudors iiiifl
Stewarts the i)ractice obtained for the most pait us at
present, yet the popular pulse was then too low U>
baffle the subtleties of the royal prerogative, or of
learned malevolence. But later, with increase t)f in-
tellectual strength and material stability, the juoplc
intrenched themselves in their riohts, and since the
magna charta this privilege has been held the dcai'cst
of a progressive people. It was a right guarded with
vigilant care, and for which intelliii-ent freemen eveiv-
where would fight and die. To America came tliis
sentiment, and was embodied in the constitutions of
the several states.

The victory originally achieved by the peopl over
the government by the establishment of the jury
system was the right of participation in the adminis-
tration of the law. No man might thenceforth be
jeopardized in person or property without appeal to
his fellows for redress. It was a sign of the iiicnas-
ing purity of political character, and growing love of
honesty and fair play. When the government and
the people were one the victory was complete.

As with hero worship, the system with age and
adulation became apotheosized ; since which time men
have thoughtlessly and blindly worshipped it as com-
jilete, God-given, and eternal, — the English jurist,
Adam, terming it " of a perfection so absolute that it

mONY OF JURY-JUSTICE.

288

lias remained in unabated rigor from its commencc-
imiit to tlio present time."

Often wlicn the jury deeided contrary to tlio wislics
of the kinn;, or rendered, in tlie o[)ini()n of the judge,
an ini[)r(»per verdict, they were punislied; therein tlio
irony of ancient jury -just ice displays itself in scarcely
ji'ss degree than in modern jury-justice, where mein-
lurs of a jury decide as th(>y choose, witliout any fear
of punishment from God or man. Many cases might
1)0 cited — instance tlie Throckmorton trial, in which
three of the jurors were adjudged to pay each two
thousand pounds, and the rest two hundred pounds
oarli; the trial at tlio Old Bailey in 1070 of Penn and
Mead, in which the jurors were fined forty marks
( acli and imprisoned till they paid, and others of sim-
ilar significance. IMany cases are on record where
the jury were convicted of perjury, forced to retract,
and heavily fined or imprisonc ;. In a land case aris-
ill^' under William the Conqueror, between the crown
and the church, the jury first found for the king, and
afterward acknowledged rendering a wrong decision.
Such was the palladium of English liberty at that
tinu'.

"It is not trial by jury that produces justice," says
Herbert Spencer, "but it is the sentiment of justice
that produces trial by jury, as the organ through
which it is to act; and the organ will be inert unless
the sentiment is there."

Trial by jury means, as Blackstone says, that a man
"cannot be affected either in his property, his libert}--,
or I lis person, but by the unanimous consent of twelve
of his neighbors and equals." If it is intended that
this sentiment should be construed literally, then like
niaiiv legal maxims, a<xe is its greatest merit. Of all
men one's neighbors arc least capable of judging fairly,
are most liable to prejudice for or against the accused.
To those nearest us we are never indiflferent ; we ara
apt cither to love or hate them. One remove, and
tiie feeling still exists, though not in so intense a form.

28G

THE JURY SYSTEM

U::i

" ■,' 5

I' -It

On local questions the popular mind is always more
or loss inflamed.

The arguments, or rather the palpable cvidonrc in
favor of trial by jury, arc protection from arlntraiy or
despotic rule, protection from biased or unjust judges,
representation by the people in the administratidu of
justifG, the recognized right of judgment by oik/h
peei's, to which we might add the blessings arising l)v
virtue of habeas corpus, and the advantage of c(jiiiiv
from a standpoint of moral law and custom to ollsit
the liarshness and errors of technical rulinu;. It ( in-
bodies the sentiment of fairness. It secures t<» iIk
citizen a feeling of safety in his rights which caiiiidt
be disturbed by any fanaticism or malice. If accused
he may be sure of the same impartiality from liis
neiglibors that he stands ever read}' to mete out to
them. Furthermore, following M. de Tocquevillc. it
is an ever-open school instructing the citizen in lii>
legal rights, giving manliness to character, and clnth-
ing tlie citizen with a magisterial dignity. It draws
the individual from his selfishness, which is tlic rust
of society, and compels him to occupy his mind i'c'i
the moment with other than liis own aflairs. To
which might be added that it keeps the doings oftlio
court directly under the eye of the people, and faiiiil-
iarizes them with judicial proceedings and the admin-
istration of justice, keeps ever before them their duty
and responsibility as members of a free and enliulit
ened commonwealth. It surrounds the rights of lili
erty v;ith the strongest safe-guards, and strips fioin
judgment bigotry and legal technicality.

On the other hand, the system is not without its
evils, which at the present day, and in countries m itli
repres(Mitative governments, more than counterbalance
all its benefits.

The principle of the right of represents lion in niK
ministering justice is no longer pertinent as an argu-
ment in the case, for the judge is now as murh tlic
representative of the people in courts of justice as the

THE BENEFITS OF DESPOTISM.

287

jurv. Courts, people, judge, and jury arc one, so far
0.; jiower and representation arc concerned. As to its
fairness, one, or three good men may be as fair as
turlve Li;(H)d men, and, indeed, experience proves that
in iiuuibers is confusion ratlier than clearer judgment.
]\lcyer and otliers, while wannly upholding the
system as applied to criminal cases, denounce it in tlie
sti'Migest terms in civil practice. And yet I find no
annnnents against the one which will not apply equally
to the other. In fact, so glaring are the evils of it in
criminal cases, so rank the, iniquity arising therefrom,
that if it could bo discarded only in one I should prc-
fe:- to see that branch of jurisorudence relieved in
pit'fercnce to the otlier.

Every good government is based upon despotism.
Tiie weakest and most worthless of all govermnents
is that wliich depends alone upon its constitufi(»n and
statutes for support. A single despot, if he be wise
and good, governing with unlimited power, is the
stiMngcst, best, and most economical of all govern-
nimts. Such rule is most natural, and best accords
v.ith man's conceptions of supernatural rule. God is
God, and Christ or Mahomet is his pro])hct. He is
thi- one only all-wise and beneficent ruler of the uni-
vorso. The forces of nature appear more conHicting,
yi't one harmony pervades the wliole. Tliis world
\va-^ not governed tliesc thousands of vears bv tvrants
ami (l('.s[)ot3 for nothing. Republics, in particular,
sliDuld beware of the rule of the rabble.

Xcxt to the single despot is the despotism of the
^v]l(!!^'; that is to say where the governed, in their
sevi'i'al castes, classes, occupations, and interests, are
go tlioroughly united in sentiment and ] iirpose as to
oniistitutc^ one body, with one mind, arbitrary and ab-
solute. This is the republican form of despotism ; and
a ro])ublic without this species of despotism is the
saddest of all pictures. In vigilance, in that rigid
patriotism which sinks self in the general well-being

288

THE JURY SYSTEM.

I «" ;

II if .

.1;

¥■ i''.

of society, we see more vividly than elsewhere the
part wliicli discipline, and that rellection which accdin-
panie.s responsibility, play in securini^ the seU'-rc liaiice
which iin[»arts soundness to the de.sposition of the
united masses. Tlic value :. \d utility of despotism
depend upon the moral character, the political poise,
and tlie social ori^anization of the people. As Horace
expresses it, "Quid leges, sine moribus vanae jno-
ficiunt?"

Aj)ply these principles and virtues to the adminis-
tration of justice, and leave it in the hands of properly
vested desi)otism, instead of surrendering it to luijt-
liazard and vacillatino- i<Tnorance. So lonn" as it is
necessarv for men to flight for their riolits and liber-
ties, let them fight, but to thrust at the carcass and
beat the air long after the enemy is dead is not wise.
Nor is it at this late day an argument in favor of any
polity or creed that it has been in force for cciituiic?'.
Ago no longer lends reason or respectability to cnor.

We arc taught to regard with horror the picture
of a murderer in prison with a weapon or with poison
taking his own life. Prison-keepers are held respon-
sible for the lives of those the law reserves for its ex-
amples; and if unluckily the criminal commits suicide,
and so cheats the gallows, censure follows.

There are ditferent lights in which any subject ni;iy
be regarded. This popular idea of so carefully l»rc-
serving life in order to take it artistically, legally, or
for the entertainment or instruction of some, and as a
warning to others, is not without its superstition. It
is another of these cases in which the same result is
obtained as when the law acts, but the law would not
have its acts anticipated. If the law were a lit;h'
more particular in arresting and punishing all who de-
served it, there might be better reason to eom[)lain of
infringements upon its monopoly. As the case ]>re-
aents itself, the murderer in prison suffering the men-
tal tortures incident to the commission of his nime,
as an act of humanity to himself, a sentiment the law
indulges when not in conflict with traditions, may

THE HARI-KARI IN AMERICA.

2S9

naturally wisli to anticipate the law's punishment.
Or ho may consider his crime sufficiently atoned, and
ill tlio desire to avoid further ignominy, kill himself.
True, there is something repulsive in the idea of
(pi\ iiig the cnminal in his cell a knife or a pistol with
IHrmission to slay himself; but there is also much
that is abhorrent in legal executions. We are told
tliat the purpose of the law is to make a solemn ex-
uniiilc, not a revengeful or passionate manslaughter;
but what could be more solemn, were we accustomed
to look at it from that side, than the felon by his own
act satisfying justice, stepping of his own volition into
the inniiediate presence of his maker, appealing at
(Hire to the higher tribunal. Such proceeding has
>;urf']y some things in its favor. It saves the prisoner
iiiucli anxiety ; it satisfies justice ; it saves the people
much trouble; the example is every whit the same.
Xcvertlieless I am by no means desirous of seeing the
liiiri-lriri, or happy dispatch princijile of Japan, in gen-
eral jtractice in America, unless as there, it be confined
to (ijlicials, when it would doubtless have a very good
ctFcct, the officers of the government beimj then oblii:;ed
to eviscerate themselves whenever the people, that is
to say the ruling power, ordered it done.

It is the province and duty of a jury to hear the
ovideiice, weigh the testimony, judge the credibility
(if Avituesses, and determine the facts in the case.
Tlieso functions nmst be exercised under tiic directit)n
(if the judge, who ij)m faclo is better qualified to jiass
u[)nii all the points himself than those to whom they
are submitted.

It is plainly apparent that men ignorant of the law
are incapable of judging In' tlie law. But may we not
pi a step farther and affirm that as society increases,
and civil afl'airs become more intricate, and the ma-
iiijtulations of law become a science, persons chosen
indiscriminately, without regard to qualification or
expc rieiice, are less competent to deal with questions

KSSAYS AND MlHfEM.ANY V.)

i'1 :•■;!'' U;

290

THE JURY SYSTEM.

arising in courts, with guilt and evidence of guilt, and
with the several biases the custom of courts permits
to be thrown around them, than those trained bv
thoughtful study and constant experience to the task ?
Then again, the wrong decision of a judge, involvinir
reputation, and an honorable life-position, is far more
to him who renders it, than in the case of the careless
or indifferent citizen, forced, it may be from his l)usi-
ness against his will, and where the responsibility and
odium of a biased or passionate decision is divided
among twelve.

As in all matters relative to social and politiial
etliics, practice is totally at variance with purpose.
Take twelv^e intelligent men, enlightened by experi-
ence, accustomed to close analysis of intricate subjects
and to the subtleties of argument, who will form their
verdict from the evidence alone and after calm and
close reflection, unbiassed by education, interest, pride,
sympathy or any other sentiment or feeling, and they
no doubt would prove of assistance to a judge. But
never did twelve such men sit as jurors in a case, and
never will there be such i jury. The judge himself
comes nearer the proper qualifications than the jury.

Not half the jurymen who serve, chosen as they
arc from among our free and enlifjhtened American
citizens, have adequate ideas of their duties. They
may know they are to sit upon a bench and listen to
the proceedings in court, and after that retire to .a
room and say guilty or not guilty. They may e\ ( n
remember to have been told that while the judge will
expound to them the law they are to determine the
facts. But do they know, when rendering tlieir de-
cision, upon what they base it? Do they know
whether they are deciding upon law, facts, or feelinLjs?

Not one juror in fifty has any true realization of his
position, or what he has sworn to do ; or if aware of
it he does not care. He does not stop to consider
that to free the guilty is as bad as to commit the
deed ; that to acquit a murderer is as bad as to com-

THE CRIME OF THE JUROR.

291

mit murder — nay, that the moral effect upon the com-
munity is worse, for to let escape one criminal is to
invito a hundred others to become criminals. To
prevent crime, punishment must be certain ; and not
to prevent crime, when it lies in one's power, is to
commit crime. Or as Seneca says, "Cui prodest
scolus, is fecit."

It does not matter how excellent may be our judges,
or how perfect our code of laws, so long as questions
of fact even are left to a jury, no litigant, innocent or
guilty, can know where he stands. It has become a
by-word, that of all earthly things a jury is the most
uncertain. And yet men reverentially cling to this
sliadow of support as to one of the greatest props of
liberty.

In early Saxon times jurors were witnesses as well
as judges, and determined the law as well as the facts.
Members of the tribunal were selected from the
iieigliborhood where the crime was committed, and
tlio more a juror knew of the affair the more compe-
tent was he to serve. The principle of fama publica
entered largely into jurisprudence, side by side with
coin purgation by oath, and divers other divinations.
At the present day any knowledge of a case is deemed
undesirable. Ignorance of the facts is a recommenda-
tion for acceptance as a juror; yet it is knowledge alone
u])on which rational judgment is formed, and surely
tlie evidence of one's own senses is as direct and con-
clusive as that obtained through the senses of
another.

The sainted twelve must 1 'ocile, and profoundly
impressed with the dignity of judges, the learning of
counsel, and the sacredness of law. A keen practi-
tioner deems his cause half won when he has his judge
and jury satisfactorily selected and seated before him.
Then comes lofty declamation, liighly seasoned ap-
peals, long and elaborate arguments, humor and pathos.

TJic fictitious sentiment of privilege, inseparable in

292

THE JURY SYSTEM.

ii- '■''■' '•,{

tliG minds of a lilierty-loving people from trials by
jury, is no less gratifying to the law, whose otiictrs
thereby have an opportunity for a display of leain'mg
and skill not otherwise within their reach, than to the
citizens of the commonwealth, who fancy thenisc 1a c s
to be the court, and that justice can be administcrc d
only by themselves. Anyone cognizant with tlio
manner by which a trial is determined in the juvv-
room can know upon how frail a foundation this latter
idea rests.

In impartial results, trials by jury are little changed
since the days of Cicero. In his treatise on Oratory
one might almost imagine him speaking of a modern
court of justice. " ]\len are influenced in their ver-
dicts," he says, "much more by prejudice, or ftivor, or
greed of gain, or anger, or indignation, or pleasure,
or hope, or fear, or by misapprehension, or by pome
excitement of their feelings, than either by the facts
of the case, or by established precedents, or by .iny
rules or principles whatever, either of law or equity."

'*It is lawful for you to use j'our gifts," said Sir
Nicholas Throckmorton to his prosecutor wlnn on
trial for high treason in 1554, and better had not such
use of gifts been lawful, "which I know God liath
largely given you, as your learning, wit, and eloquence,
so as thereby you do not seduce the minds of tlie
simple and unlearned jury to credit matters otherwise
than they be. For, ^Master Sergeant, I know liow
by persuasions, enforcements, presumptions, applyinu',
implying, inferring, conjecturing, deducing of argu-
ments, wrestling and exceeding the law, the circum-
stances, the depositions, and confessions, unlearned
men may be enchanted to think and judge those tliat
be things indiftcront, or at the worst oversights, to l»o
great treasons; such power orators have, and sucli
ignorance the unlearned have."

The special province of the jury lawyer is to move
to mercy, to produce upon the minds of his liearcrs
impressions favorable to the character and conduct of

DISHONESTY OR INCOMPETENCY.

293

the accused, that he may appear to them a good but
uiifoi'tuiuite man, deservnig of generous pity, rather
than a social viper such as lie truly is.

Under this system the worst element in the com-
munity is preserved, and at the expense of the best.
Tho wicked prosper in their wickedness, while the
virtuous are slain for their virtues.

"Judex damnatur cum nocens absolvitur," says
Publius Syrus. This is the dark side of the jury
svstiMU. It is very seldom that a jury brings in a
verdict of guilty where the accused is innocent; but
it is very common for them to fail to convict where
guilt is })lainly a}>parent. In answer, we fall back
upon the amiable position that it is better to err upon
the side of mercy, that it is better ten guilty should
escape than one innocent be punished. This is not an
altogether sound maxim. The injustice is as great
which clears the guilty as that which punishes tlie
innocent, whatever may be the humanity or sentiment
of the case. Nevertheless, we would not punish tlie
innocent; neither would we let the guilty go. Nor is
it necessary. If juries, since these thousand years of
trial, still find compassion overpowering duty, they
had l)etter step aside and make room for judges of
sterner stuff, in the direction of whose certain judg-
ments lies the true economy of mercy.

Frequently jurors, when they first retire, stand
eiglit or ten to four or two. Then begins the work
of conversion, and the minority are badgered by the
majority until finally opinion and conscience are sac-
rificed by the former, who do contrar^' to what they
hav(; sworn to do. This is the process in the jury-room,
and this the perjury which is undergone in four fifths
of trials by jury

The merest accident often determines the decision
of a juror. Enterimj: a room with eleven others,
some of whom are strangers, with the mind oscillating
between the ariruments inijcniouslv urcjed on either
side, the weak-minded juror would often rather jump

294

TIIE JURY SYSTEM.

illi
iS1i

at any conclusion than appear to have no substantial
convictions. Hesitancy and suspense under such cir-
cumstances are no less painful to him than to his com-
panions, and many times the word and the vote of
some strong-minded, dogmatic juror influences tlic
next vote, those two the next, and so on until the
whole twelve are brought to ballot, not in accordaiicf
with their own private and well-considered views, but
in such a manner as will best give them the appearance
before their fellows of prompt, well-opinionated, and
decisive men

Modest or sensitive persons, finding themselves in
a minority, suspect the validity of their opinions, and
hasten to recant and join the opposite side. But tliis
is not judging honestly, considerately, Oi' according to
oath. Few like to appear ungracious or obstinate,
and will forswear themselves sooner than seem obnox-
iously conspicuous. Thus it is in almost every jury,
tliere are those who yield their honest opinion to the
force of circumstance, just as in society fear of one's
fellows is more terrible tlian the fear of government
or of God.

This is the reason why comparatively few juries
fail to find a verdict althoufjh men so seldom ay;ree on
any one point. The jurors do not all of them vote in
accordance with the oath which they have taken, do
not vote their honest opinion, do not vote justly ac-
cording to the evidence as they have sworn to vt)te.
Individual obligation is shirked, and the palladium of
all our liberties becomes a puppet-show, with consent
and connivance of the judge, who may keep jurors of
different minds imprisoned in a room until the work
of coercion is accomplished.

If the jury system be, indeed, a further necessity,
then a majority should be permitted to find a verdict.
There is no advantage in the enforced unanimitv of
twelve blockheads, and often great wrong is done.
In the large assemblages of Greece and Rome a ma-
jority found the verdict; and in the Scandinavian

ENFORCED UNANIMITY.

and Teutonic nations tlie agreement of tlie majority
ohtaiiud. In Scotland, after an inetlcctual three
hour's' deliberation, nine jurors may find a verdict, but
ill jOiigland unanimity in a traverse jury has prevailed
from the earliest times.

A forced unanimity is absurd upon the face of it.
There never yet were found on earth a dozen intclli-
o;eiit, tlioughtful men who fully agreed on every point.
What folly then for a court of law to force men by
starvation and other coercive measures to break their
oath and render a verdict which may be contrary to
their conviction. Perjury is the result of such unan-
imity, and the sin of it is to be laid at the door of the
law. Admit the jury system a necessity, and the re-
quirement of unanimity yet remains a foul blot ui)on
our legal practice. Aside from the objections already
stated it gives one evil-minded or obstinate juror the
power to invalidate a righteous verdict, and set at
iiauglit the efforts, perhaps, of eleven honest men
laburing in the ends of justice.

In an important land case in San Francisco, which
lasted over a month, on retiring to the jury room
])robal)ly not more than one or two of the twelve had
(leterniined on which side their vote should be cast.
It happened that one of the jurors was agent for a
line of steamers, and that the leading attorney for the
defence was counsel for an opposition line. This
wholly irrevelant circumstance prejudiced the case.
The steamer agent determined that the attorney of
his competitor should not triumph. Impetuous and
plausible, he had, before many moments, more than
half the jury his way of thinking, and the rest were
finally brow-beaten into it, with the exception of one
or two, who rendered the decision of the case
impossible. In such instances men are compelled
to leave their business, and devote time worth to
them ten or a hundred dollars a day, in order to
determine the private quarrel of two citizens, which

296

THE JURY SYSTEM.

\ ■

the judge could have much nun'e rightly and quickly
decided.

Before court-houses, wore courts. In Mariposn, in
1850, court was held under a tree, and the jury iv-
tired to another tree to deliberate. Under the < lassie
shade was brouyjlit one day an American for assault-
ing a Mexican. The trial over, the jury retired.

" Lct'"^ hang him," said number one.

** Oh no," replied number two, "ho only stabbed a
man ; we can't hang him for that."

•' Send him to the state prison for life," put in
number three.

•' That'll do," exclaimed half a dozen at once.
And so it was concluded, all aorcein<j: to i .

"It seems to me rather hard after all," runiinatrd
number two, as the twelve started back for tlieoduit-
tree, " to imprison a man for life, for merely stabLiii;^'
a Mexican; besides, where is your prison ?"

•' Lot's acquit him,' said number one.

"Agreed," exclaimed the rest; and so the man was
set at liberty.

In July 1851, after the San Francisco vioilaiicc
committee had been in session several weeks baiii>]i-
ing and hanging desperadoes, thereby setting as it
was hoped a wholesome example to the officers of tht;
law, the connnunity was startled by a verdict before
one of tlie courts, of twelve as enlightened and indr-
pendeiit as any Galway jury. A young man naiiud
Barnes was tried for robbinsc a fellow-lodiior <•!'
seventy-eight dollars. He was caught in the act and
the precise amount found in his pocket. The jury
had no doubt of his guilt, but in consideration of liis
being a member of a " respectable family in the cast, '
they brought in a verdict of not guilty. By askiii'j;
the judge to merely " admonish the prisoner," tlicv
showed their belief in his ijuilt. The younix nian Mas
turned loose to continue his chosen career ; and yet
there wove those who opposed the existence of a
viiiilance committee.

MISTAKEN HUMANITY.

297

mail v;as

It is not in America, as in some parts of Ireland,
sviii[)iitliy with crime wliidi causes this failure to con-
vict; it is a nobler sympathy, a sympathy -with hu-
iiuiiiity, with misfortune. And yet, such sympathy
is oriiorally mistaken, and sometimes maudlin.

One of the stran«j:ost things about the viuilance
coiniiiittec was the interest in and sympathy for the
piisoiier, manifested by those associated to punish
criiiie. There is somethin»i^ in misfortune, whether
deserved or not, which toudies every generous heart.
Hii* were strong men of the world, men of thought,
of cliaracter, nerved to the work of punishment by
tliivatoned social anarchy, men determined to do their
duty; and yet in almost every instance where the
o;()od man and the bad man are brought together, the
fdniuT soon learns to regard the crimes of the latter
^vit]l toleration. Truett, among the foremost of
Ttriy's captors, was the foremost of his liberators.
From advocate and defender of the accused, he,
the stern, self-constituted instrument of retributive
justice, became the prisoner's trusted friend, believing
liiiu no moio worthy of punishment tl"u his own
l)n>t]ier.

So with regard to Smiley in his intercourse with
Olio of the greatest villians ever hanged by a vigilance
coinmittee. " Hetherington was a man of great cul-
ture," he says in his dictation, " one who was cut
out for a parson, in my opinion. He had a strong re-
ligious under-current in his inner man. I knew him
very well. He did not deserve hanging much, and
would not have been hanged in ordinary times. It
was a sort of lona: fiijht between him and liandall in
relation to property. They had quarreled and Hetli-
erington committed the first insult and Randall re-
sented it."

Here we see the inxeperienced judge, acting as coun-
sel for the accused, pursuing unconsciously the same
line of excuses as the criminal himself; he had lost
himself and his sense of duty in his sympathy for the

S06

THE JURY SWSTEM

i; I

I I'.i
I

-If i

..1:

H q. Hi

111

poor fdlow. And yet Smiley was wklo-awakf and
rlear-l leaded, and Truett was iiir-si^litod, sliiewd, aiid
a close reasoner. You could not make Smiley bclitvo
in Terry's iimoccnce — Smiley prosecuted Terry — no
more than you could convince Truett that Hetheriii<f-
ton should not have been handed. There were several
in the connnittee who thought poor little Cora's pun-
ishment too severe.

Never were men more clear in their conviction.*;
never were men more sincere, more determined to do
right, more thoughtful, intelligent, and capable of dis-
cerning the right. They were not jurors by comjiul-
sion, but volunteers enlisted from an overwhelnuni:
sense of necessity. They had staked everytliinj^,
honor, property, and life itself in t>rder to accompllHli
what they deemed a paramount obligation resting on
them as citizens of a moral and independent common-
wealth. If with all these fires of patriotisu) burning
within them, these earnest and honest endeavors after
the virtuous, the right, the true, such men fail eom-
pletely the moment their feelings are touched, surely
then, forced jurymen of lower intellect, of reason yet
more easily bedimmed by sophistry, picked promiscu-
ously from the mercantile or mechanical class, aie no
better fitted for sitting in judgment upon the life of
a fellow-being.

This Hetherington, when tried before a jury fur liis
first nmrder, was acquitted. Even the judge, a Cali-
ft)rnian judge, accustomed to liberating crhninals, was
so struck by the clearness of the case that when tlie
jury brought in their verdict J\e could not hold hi.
peace.

** Not guilty," was what they u 'd, though why tliey
said it, by what process of reasoi \g their consciences
acquitted them of perjury, no one, ot even they them-
selves, pretended to know. "But the man has com-
mitted murderl" exclaimed the ji Ige, confounded at
their wilful stupidity. Fifteen thousand dollars, Heth-
erington complained, this killing cost him. For that

THE LAW AND THE FACTS.

'JOO

sum tlio lawyers persuaded the jury that Hrtlierin<;ton
iiiiiltlii't help it; so they let hmi go and kill aii-
other man.

It was an early and well-known maxim, "ad quaes-
tii)ii(iii juris rL'8i>ondeant judices, ad quacstionem facti
ns[)<»ndcant juratores/' and the only basis upon which
the system could rest. The judges might determine
the facts as well as the law, but the jurors could l)y
no possibility determine the law, for they knew noth-
ing about it. And yet this simple and just rule is set
aside or evaded in some manner almost every day.
Thtjury nominally may not |)ass upon the law, but
in nullity they do so, in a greater or less degree, in
evoiy verdict rendered. In all their decisions they
consider the penalty, which they, directly, 'ave no
ri.;lit to do, and so render their verdict as to bring the
accused under the punishment deemed by them most
proper. They do not even restrict themselves to the
law, but judge according to their ideas of what the
law should be.

True, it is expected of the jury in a measure to
niitijfute the severe technical interpretation of the
law by interpreting the facts according to moral law
and custom, and so temper decision with the applica-
tion of equity ; but in America, juries altogether ex-
cued these limits of their functions.

In all cases where popular opinion pronounces the
law too severe, such as ca[)ital punishment for ft)rgery,
for theft, for irregularities incidental to popular move-
inonts, and the like, in every such case the jury is apt
to take the law into its hands, judging of the law as
well as of the facts. Indeed, too often it ignores the
facts entirely, accepts overruled evidence or false
hypotheses, and not being able to mitigate the pen-
alty and bring in sentence inflicting milder punishment,
it holdly and untruthfully asserts that the accused
is not guilty. Instance the usual verdict in the case
of a legal charge of murder caused by fighting a duel.

llt^^^ii-^

U tlHlirllSUhtl

1'^':

300

THE JURY SYSTEM.

How often has guilty life been spared and the in-
noccMit made to suffer, even by our latter-day juiits!
How often by reason of predilection or passion liuvc
excessive danmijes been awarded, and <>larino; aluiMs
fostered, so that the higher courts have been oblintd
to set aside outrageous verdicts with reprimands, di-
to bolster this defunct S3'stem by establishing riilis as
to the measure of damages, or by defining and restrict-
ing the duties of jurors.

This is one of the many anomalies of the system.
Maxims say, and the law sa3'S, the judge shall dctt r-
mine the law and the jury the facts, and this will ho
reiterated in legislative halls and tribunals of justice
century after century, and all the while the contrary is
done with none of these Solon? eemingly aware of it.

The oath of a juror is of little value in restrictiii:^^
him to the evidence as the foundation of his virdict.
The more stupid think themselves so restricted, tliiiik
themselves under a load of responsibility, when in
truth it is nothing but stone-blindness that atltcts
them. Perjury is a crime of hourly occurrence in mu'
ct)urts. How easily an expert lawyer makes a wit-
ness contradict himself. And do we not see in al-
most every case brought up for trial the witness f( r
the one side and the other flatly contradicting each
other? Men's consciences are elastic. Since ain<ini
all classes the mind is being stripped by science of its
su[)erstitions there is little fear of divhie wrath for
swearing falsely. And of all men jurors seem to en-
tertain tlu( least regard for the oath thev have taken.
Some there are who hold out manfully against the un-
portunities of impatient associates, but their motives
are usually not directed by conscience. I do not say
that there is much wilful perjury ; quite the contrary.
But what is the ditference, in reality, whether tlio
svstem fails throuo-h wilful or unintentional perjury:

In this connection the question arises: Winn tin*
will of the people is against the hiM* and judge that
they have made, how should a jury decide, aeeonlnig

MERIT OF Ki^oRANCE A\D STUPIDITY.

r:oi

ti) llic evidence as they have sworn to do, or accord-
iiiir to pojjular prejudice? We kuosv liow tliey do
(Kcido ill such instances.

Ill every important criminal case the more intclH'
(rent part of sucli citizens as are competent to serve
as jurors is rejected on the ground of bias. Those
^vlio read the newspapers, who keej) themselves in-
fiiniird of passing events, who take an interest in the
atlairs of the commonwealth; those who love justice,
wlio hate wrong-doing, wlio think, form opinions, and
dare to speak their minds; those in fact wlio alone
arc capable of weighing the evidence, deternnning the
facts, and rendering a proper verdict, arc too ofien
ruled out as unfit to serve. It would seem at times,
among a higli-minded, active-brained community,
tliat it was im]K)ssible to find twelve men sufficiently
.stupid to m et the requirements of those whose profes-
simi it is to defeat tlie ends of justice. It would seem
at times that recourse must be had to an inebriate or
idiot asylum for jurymen sufficiently ignorant and
leatlicr-brained to satisfy the wise counsellors and
learned judges who play fast and loose with vagabonds,
and all wlio prey u})on the industrious classes. As
Jiiliii T. Morse, Jr, of Boston, writing in the AmcHcav
Linr lU'vietv of July 1871 says of the jury in tlie
Laura D. Fair trial, "At last, after a long period an,!
oaietul search, a dozen men were brought together,
])resumably the most unintelligent crea*-ures in Cali-
fornia, so exceptionably imbecile as to be unexcep-
tionable. These worthies sat solcmnlj' in the box,
listdiiiig to the harangues and theories of the learned
and (lixjuent counsel for the accused lady, until it
may he su[)posed that their mental condition became
ludre confused than hers was represented to liave been
at tlie time of the commission of the deed of killing.
Indeed it is not satisfactorily shown that they had
ever been educated up to the compreliension of tlie
idea that to shoot a human being is really an objee-

302

THE JURY SYSTEM.

tionable act. Their finding was only what shoukl na-
turally have been anticipated ; and after all it was tjie
law or the administration thereof which insisted ui)i»ii
having such men for jurors rather than the iwn
themselves, that ought justly to be held answerable
for their action."

However this question may be regarded, of Ameri-
can justice one thing can truly be said. Crime is
here pampered beyond all precedent. A monevLcl
criminal is almost sure of acquittal at the hands of our
honest and intelligent juries. The petty poor oHTciidcr
they do not hesitate to punish for example's saku.
Sympathy for the criminal if he has a dash of licroism
in him, or a mawkish sentimentality, shields tlie
shedder of blood. Our juries seem to seize on any
pretext to save the lives of those who so ruthlessly
take the lives of others. Thus our courts are de-
graded, society demoralized, and justice ridiculed.
How often do we sec the deliberate and proven mur-
derer either wholly acquitted or else found guilty in
the second degree and recommended to mercv. Savs
an editor on this subject "Juries seldom visit the
full penalty of the law on offenders, and often ae(juit
those well known to be guilty." And thus a judi;e:
"In this country crime and the legal penalties scldnin
meet. Too much is made out of juries and [)etitioiis
for pardon. From these evils, long allowed, spiiiig
occasional necessities for vigilance conunittees. Hun-
dreds of lives have been the price, in Idaho and .Mon-
tana, of a few which escaped the law in California."

It would seem from the opinions and actions of our
lawyers, judges, and jurors, that courts of law were
established for the primary purpose of clearing crimi-
nals. In almost every comnmnity we see for one
prosecuting attorney in criminal cases five who uaiu
their living on the other side. This is painfully si;j;-
nificant. Crime abounds. Prisons and law ((urts
are established and maintained, at the cost of the [leo-
ple, to sup[)rcss crime. Social vultures prey upon

COURTS FOR CLEARING CRIMINALS.

303

the people, and so obtain the means, not only to in-
dulge in rioting and debauchery, but to purchase their
frectlom from punishment. With the niuney thus
fruiululently obtained from the people, criminals em-
ploy so-called respectable lawyers to procure their
ac(|iiittal before tribunals likewise established and paid
for by the people.

To Djain an unjust cause, known to be such when
undertaken, lawyers do not hesitate to wilfully mis-
represent witnesses, distort evidence, pervert facts,
and bring upon honest men the foulest imputations.
To perpetrate the diabolical deed of letting loose upon
society a human hyena, one known to thetn to be
such, they do not hesitate to pour torrents of slander-
ous invective upon the heads of the opposing counsel,
tlie witnesses, and all who bar their progress in their
infamous purpose. And all this with no loss of char-
acttr or caste. All is professional, and strictly in
accordance with law ami custom. Indeed, the attor-
ney, it is said, does not earn his fee unless he employs
liis utmost skill in theconnnission of a crime, perhaps,
as i;reat as that for which his client is being tried.

If the trial goes against the defence, a few excep-
ti >ns taken carries the case to the supreme court, where
enough of them are usually sustained to secure a new
hearing. If the verdict is for the criminal, and unsat-
isfactory to the public, who cares? Vice with its
putrifving breath bellows approval, and virtue nmst
n( (lis stomach it. The Rosicrucian maxim is api)lied
of binding the wound and greasing the weapon, in the
hope tliat by some sympathetic, magical reflex action
the cause of the evil should be its cure.

After all, the blame attaches mostly to the system
wliicli tolerates such practice rather than to the prac-
titioner. All lawyers, judges, and court and jail ofti-
c'ials are supported by the people. This is bad enough
to begin with. But when one sees half or three
fourths of those so supported employing their time
and talents in the promotion of injustice, in letting

SOI

THE JURY SYSTEM.

■■■'!-

loose again tlio comparatively few criminals who arc
brought to trial, it becomes abominal)le.

Tlie system of trial by jury certainly was once bene-
ficial, but having served its purpose it is now unneces-
sary, and even pernicious, wherever representative
government exists to offer better substitutes. Lil'C
war, great-man worship, despotism, hun^an suiviry,
and all those savagisms which many still de[)]ore, it
was a necessary stepping-stono to a higher plane, to
which it now clings a mere incumbrance.

In its most imi)ortant revival, the system niarkcil
the dawn of freedom. In as far as the spirit of lilx ny
pervaded a peoi)le, in so far the principle of trial by
jury is found enfolded in its legal forms. And almost
everywhere the principle prevailed in a greater or kss
degree, for despotism is never absolute, any more tiian
savagism can be fixed and complete.

It would seem that justice might gain nmcli aiid
lose nothing by now laying aside the jury system,
and in its })lace let one judge hear and determine jk tty
cases, and three or five, or more if necessary, adjudi-
cate in matters of magnitude, while greatly lestrli ting
apjK'als.

]\Iay not a judge, or a bench of judges, leaiiud in
the law, practised in the administration of courts, ex-
perienced in listening to arguments, in weighing tes-
timony, and in determining truth from falseliood. n p-
resent the people in their tribunals, and administer jus-
tice more evenly, more surely, more dispassioiiatrly
than twelve connnon-place, not to say ignorant and
inexperienced men, chosen indiscriminately from va-
rious trades and occupations?

We are certain to come to some such jilan sooner or
later. Mr Forsyth says truly that "the machinery
of our law is too complicated, and its working' too
expensive to suit the wants of the present a^r; and
it nmst be effectually amended, or it will run the ii>k
of being rudely overthrown." For as in uiccLauios

THE TNJUSTirE OF IT.

305

the sunpler the machine the less hability to derange-
lut'iit, so in goverimieut, the fewer the havs tlie less
tin; iiKi'tia and friction in courts of justice, and the
less tlio evils to society.

The rtisponr,ibility is too great, some say, to entrust
to so few. But surely it is not in numbers that jus-
tice is found. Besides, the purity of the court can as
well ho guanletl when under the sole directum of
conipetent judges, aye, and nmeji better, tlian when
civiliaus attempt to interfere. King Alfred used to
liaii;^; ju<lg(.'S for false judgnvent; are the people of our
iej)iil»lie less potent than King Alfred?

Thi' law in every trial })rc-supposes controversy, and
iiii'ii of average intelliixenee can determine most facts
as well as the astute. But (^an tliev do so better?
Fiirsytli contends that they can. "No mind feels
tlie foice of technicalities," he savs, "so stronglv as
that of a lawyer. It is the mvstorv of his craft,
which he has taken much pains to learn and which he
is s( Idoiii averse to exercise. He is apt to become
the slave of forms, and to illustrate the truth of the
old maxim, 'qui lueret in litera luoret in cortice.'"
One can easily understand how a mind may be en-
slaved hv e(kieatini^ and drilling; it in forms and tech-
iiicalitics, hut that brain nmst be weak intkx'd which,
'•nci; (^lucated in the intricacies of tlie law, cannot
(Miiipro]i(Mid and determine facts. Such is not the
tiil'iit intelligent connnunities place upon their judicial
Iv'iiches.

Till' h)\vest average of such judges could hardly be
iut'rioi' to the ordinary jury. Twelve men, the
tiiicker tlieir heads the Ijottcr, are taken from their
tanas and from their merchandise, and placed upon
flio judgnieiit-seat. What can they do that competent
paid judges cannot do better? Unaccustomed to the
wriirhiiio- of evidence or to logical sequences, they are
■asily swayed by frothy a])peals to their passions or
pivju(lii(>s, and in tlie hands of skilful lawyers arc of
'ill others the greatest bar to correct decisions.

Khsays AND Miscellany 'iO

300

THE JURY .SY.STEM.

The recognition of their uicai)acity lies in tliu cus-
tom of the judge to review fortlieui iu plain languu;^.'
the evidence and explain the application of tl' i law t^
the case. The jury, after all, is but a smaller cditiuu
of the popular tribunal which jurists so strongly cnn-
dcnni, only in many instances it is much worse, doiii;,'
deeds which would put to the blush any wi'steiii
frontier lynch court. What justice might Sociatis
expect before a jury of live hundred and fifty-sevm
Athenian citizens, whose knowledge he had inipu^iinj
and who.se folly he had reproved? Such juries aiv
simply mobs. If I am guilty, tiy me before a jury;
if innocent, before a judge.

The system seems unjust, also, in that it exacts
from the citizen a service without adequate coniiitii-
sation. As well might the state take i)roj)erty wllli-
out })aying for it, as to take the time of the eitiz(ii>,
paying them for only a tenth (»f its value. Ihit, say
the sui)portcrs of this system, will not the unsiltish
and patriotic citizen cheerfully and gratuitously render
his neighbor that service which he is liable at any tiiiir
to be oblioed to ask at his hand? No: whv should
he? President, legislators, judges, soldiers, arc all
necessary, and might as equitably be asked to serve
without pay. There is no ri'ason why any persmi
should serve the country in one capacity more tliui in
another without just compensation. The pittance
awarded first-class citizens by the law is no compen-
sation f)r time taken from their business; and yit
even this is often a heavy Imrden to litigants, -hw-
tice should be absolutely free; and the most ellicieiit
and economical plan would be administration by judges
alone, which would greatly sinq)lify as well as (liea[)en
court procedure.

It must be admitted that reformation eudjracinu
the excision of the jury system nmst also extend ty
>>ther branches of the administration of justice. This
Mivolves the question in how far the purity ot tiv
i. -nch can be assured by higher pay, life-tenure of ( dlice,

I'URITY or Till: liENClI.

:;o7

and otluT measures. Wlicther the popular elootiou
for ttrm-tenurt! he retained or not, the t'lection systc^m
IK ;(Is ahc^ve all to he reformed, for herein lii-s the root
of all administrative ills. So long as a low fonign
ni!il)li', and the ignorant and vicious scum of the pop-
ulatinii, with httlo or no tangible interest in the com-
iiiuiiitv, arc permitted under the leadershi[) of unscru-
pulniis and scheming politicians to control our hallots
liv till if creatures, so long will corruption reign in
judicial as well as pcjlitical circles.

A purified constituency will produce ahle and up-
li'ilit judges, to whom can be safely entrusted the
(iitiiv res[ionsihihty hitherto sliared with mo"e im-
mediate representatives of the people. Tlie advantage
'f a jury coniposi'd of such oHicial professionals will
liu net alone in their spec-ial training and experience,
li"*-, ill their being, more than ordinary jurors, account-
al)ly responsible to the public for acts and decisions;
subject to daily criticisms by lynx-eyed rivals and
jKuly i)ress, and liable to indictment and disgrace and
()tli(,'r ])unishment. The diiiintv and isolation of their
office, moreover, exposes them k'ss to those maudlin
and baneful sympathies, and other objectionable in-
tluciices, which sway the average juryman.

Mail in his proximate relations is not wholly fit to
judge his fellow-man. He cannot do it fairly, dispas-
sitiiiatelv. He nmst first become somewhat of a ma-
cliiiie, must go by the book, nmst acquire full control
of tlie svnr.iathies and feeliu'-s of humanitv, and exer-
CISC iiiainlv his reasonin'j; faculties, recjardinii: <juilt in
the abstract, hi its effect on society, weighing calmly
till' plea of individual or circumstantial extenuation.
He must be blind to partiality, yet not wholly so to
pity and benevolence. The mother who conunits a
mine for a starving or injured child should not be
liunislicd hi tlie same degree as the professional crim-
inal. The youthful cul[)rit must be reclaimed, not
fast ferth midst hardened ofl'enders. Crime is a poison
tu be ivniovetl from the body politic not by cruel ex-

308

THE JURY SYSTEM.

cision alone. The judge sliould weigh, although dis-
passionately, the fathondcss depth of man's love and
liato, his ignorance and environment, his weakness and
temptation. Above the letter of tlie law should pn -
vail the spirit of the law; above adamantine justice.
equity.

:;. I'l!

CHAPTER XIII.

M0N(J0L1ANI,SM IN AMERICA.

Wliiii the nu '.titudu liate a man, it is neceiisary to examine into the case.
^\ htii tli'j multitude like a man, it is necessary to examine into the ease.

At first it was rcuardod as a novoltv, aiul uio.st
aiiuisiiig to the curious Califoniians, tlie coining of tlic
Asiatic. Hu added picturcsqueiiess to tlio population.
With (Trock, Turk, and Egyi)tian, African, Indian,
and Kanaka, all perambulating- the streets and wan-
(loiiiig ahout the nuning districts, the fresh-ini[K)rte(l
and cleanly scraped Chinaman, with his lialf-shaven
Iliad, his long braided queue, his oblique almond eyes,
liis catgut voice; his plain blue frock, or, if a man of
consequence, arraj'ed in a flashy silk tunic, with red
sasli, clean white stockings, and shining satin and
wooden shoes, followed by a sleek little niarketable
wife witJi silver anklets and other jingling ornaments,
and ]ieilia[)s a demi-John or two — it was quite amus-
ing to see them hero and there and every wliere, and
to show them to strangers as one of the many unique
t'eatiu\s California could boast. It i)ut one (juite in
'j;ood humor with one's self to watch them waddling
uiuliM' the springy pole sustaining at either end a huge
and heavily-laden basket; it made one quite feel one's
supi rioi'ity to see these queer little si)ecimens of pct-
ntiod progress, to listen to their higli-keyed strains of
t'lino conversation, and notice all their cunning curi-
"^itv and barbaric artlessness. It was easy to distin-
^uisli tlie new-comer from the old resident. The
'"•11" '!• appeared at first lost in amazement, bewildered,
'stunned by the strange sights; then as his senses

( m )

rv,

■?i,"'

:i" V'i

\}r S

310

MONftOLIAMlSM IN AMERICA.

slowly came to him, he manifested the <]^reatcst curi-
osity at (!vcrything that inct his view, eai^or wiihal to
know the meaning of things. The latter assuiiK d an
air of sedate superiority, as if familiar with Siui !• lan.
cisco seenes from childluxjil. Yonder is an aiiciriit- -
not many such are seen — witli white hairs scattiied
over tlie eliin, and covering tjie scjuint of the (ilitiis(.
angled (yes a pair of enormous s))ectacl(s, ugly b(\ ciid
the power of words to <;xi)i'('ss. These varieties minulf-
with otlier varieties of (hft'erent oriiiiii anri niiiimfac-
ture, giving rolor and odor to new compositions.

The similarity in dress, and the want of heard, givf^
them to inexperiencod cyts a sameness of ap])t';n;uK'c.
as if they had all been cast in on(> mouhl. Tlii.-- re-
mark has also been ap])lied to the Indian, wlioso ro-
semblance to the celestial has been tlie fre(]uent tluiiii
of travellers and scientists. It does not apinai- tliat
tlie red man is flattered by tlie comjmrison, to jii(lp,i
from the abuse he is so ready to lavish on his vi\al.
It is relat(!d tliat when John Young was once takiii;:
some numkevs to the museum at Salt Lake Citv.
sevi'ral Reno savages a]»proaehed and examined thciii
with characteristic gravity. Young asked tluni if
they knew what tlicy were. The cliief looked upas
if surprised at the simplicity of the ({uestion, and re-
plied, "(), yes, me know well; China pappooso!"

This may not be fair to the celestial urchins, who
are really attractive and intelligent in eyes and features,
With increasing years they retain a certain siniplirity
of expression, a childlike innocence, and a ready smile,
which becomes soniewhat spasmodic if forcetl into a
laugh ; but a characteristic and repulsive st<»lidiiy and
unconcern settle u[)on them, as if the bright, unsepliis-
tieated mind had been rudely cramped witliin the
narrow compass of bigoted custom and hopeless hond-
aoe before it had cjained time to develop, Thev stand
before us now, a mixture of the child, the slave, and
the sphinx. The eye in particular is cold, nioaninil-
less, yet cunning hi expression, and with a Eurojieaii

f'HYslQUi; AND l)I!E.s.s.

811

growth of hair tlio low forclu-ad would ]ir(»l)al)ly iii-
(Ttusi! this repulsive feature. Iiitoili^'eiit Cliiiiaiiieu
have with frefjuent interrourHc cauu^lit a niiaiii of
Caucnsian aniiiiatioii, hut the almost slavish (jiiietude
(if 'j,:iit and manner is never laid asicU-. Many, es[)e-
ciaHy among the hetter class, can he termed good-
l<i()king, even hy a fastidious Kuropean.

Tli(y arc shorter than Americans, and less muscular,
hut possessed of considerahle endurance. The Women
a\v. proportionately lower in staturt\ and more s(|uat
of hiiild. The monotonv of fi<»ure is increased hv the
coiiscrvativG dark hlue dress, which adds neither to
Mature nor to <>racc.

Th(! lahorers so fre(piently seen in our streets have
iiiado us familiar witli the wide cotton trousers, harely
reaciiing to the ankle ; the equally wide and shape-
less blouse which terminates above the knee, fits close
around the neck, unprotecteil hy any collar, and over-
laps ahout four inches in front, wliere it is fastened
with loops and small brass buttons. The sleeve wid-
ens gradually from the shoulder and reaches below
the hand, but is rolled up above the wi'ist by the
workman, or secured by a plaited rush cufi". The
white underclothing of Canton flannel or cotton falls
liver the trousers and gleams below the blouse. In
cold weather a sleeveless, quilted jacket, somewhat
slioiter than the blouse, is worn as an overcoat, or
the (luilted blouse is used.

The rich dress of the wealthy is of flt)wcry silk and
fine cassimere, with less amplitude, and unrolled
sleeves; the trous(>rs, of equally rich material and
iifti'ii of gray color, are gathered and tied at the
inikle. This strange costume does not altogether de-
tract from the dignity, which, added to a polite man-
ner, readily distinguishes the upper classes, whence
the vulgar arc barred by a rigid exclusiveness. A
I'uither indication of hi<>'h caste is the lonij finijer-
nails, with which manual labor can have noconnection.

A low cloth shoe, with its white band of pig-skin

312

MONWOLIANISM IN AMKUICA.

v:,.;i

round the solo, and its frecjUi'Mtly enibroidcrvd cnvcr.
forms a neat toot-drcss for all seasons. The sole is of
W(»od, cork, or layers of felt, or })a|)er, the final l.iycr
l)uin<^ leather. It is ahout tin -e ({narters of an inch
in thiekness, follows the outline (»f the foot, is di'void
of heel, unci tapers somewhat at the toe, as it turns
slightly upward. A loose, white, shapeless stocking!'
protruding at the instep, is worn hy the town-folk.

The most eonnnon hat is the black or gray Anicii-
can felt, with straight rim and low Hat crown ; hut
field laborers use a wide umbrella-shaped structure
of split bamboo, or rushes, gathering into a cone.
Occasionally maybe seen a short felt hat with tlic
rim turned vertically up, even with the idundcd
crown. The wealthy wear a close fitting, stiff .skull-
cap, without rim, surmounted by a bulb, the color (if
which is regulated bv the rank of the wearer.

Women use the blouse and trousers, but of greater
amplitude. The plain-colored silken under-robe of
the female of hio-lier de«j;ree, has a narrow embroidery
at the bottom which touches the feet, ami over tlii.s a
shorter satin skirt, entirely covered with fine embroi-
dery. The waist is often bound by a silk sash, with
trailing ends.

It is the ambition of [)arents to achieve social im-
portance, as indicated particularly by the size into
which they can .afford to compress the feet of their
girls, in order to render them as helpless as possible,
fit only for a wealthy husband. In early childhood
the four small toes are folded against the sole, so as
to grow into it, leaving the big toe to form a part of
an elongated shrunken hoof of some three; iuclics,
which results from the treatmeut. The f ./ri at first
is severe ; an.d though suffering in due time uisap[)eur.s,
the gait always remains tottering. The Canton
river women in America are not marked with this
index of gentility, but imitate the gait by using a
rounded sole which tapers at the toe.

Their neck is bare and unadorned, like that of the

HItJNIFirANl'K OF TIIK QUEUE.

:ti:i

iiu II. l)ut the wrists and ankles aiv clusprd l)y ivory
i)V .itlur rings. Ear-rings are also worn ; l>ut the rest

t'ili(! Jewelry is reserved for the hair; and thr silk
k< Tchiet", whieh constitutes the only head-dress, is
SI Idoiii allowed to hide the artistic rin^s and knots
into w liicli nmrried women arrange their hack hair.
V ith the aid of gold hodkins, rihhands, and wax, sur-
iiiouiitiiig the whole with artificial Hower.s. (iirls
wear plaits. The face is cunningly enamelled, icd-
tiii;4rd lips and ctieeks, and the evident artifice is not
uiiattnuitive. The fan, also carried by men of quality,
is iirver absent.

The circumscribed taste for finery finds a broadtT
tirld ill the child, on whom the mother lavishes color,
hracelets. bells, and ribbands in profusion.

Most striking is the shaven head of the men with
tlic ([ueue dangling obtrusively to the Jicels. There
is IK) religious significance in this, for it is merely an
innovation of the Tartar conquerors, forced upon the
people in the middle of the 1 7th century, (jlreat
was the struggle to maintain the long heavy locks
which prior to their subjugation they often gathered
into a knot upon the crown; but gradually they be-
came iesiu[ned to the innovation, and that which was
oiur the symbol of enslavement became the most
rhiiished appendage of their dress; .so much so that
the loss of it is considered a disurace, and \'vw can
even htiar to coil it u)), although it is often in the way
while working. Many would be glad to ailopt our
fashion, but prejudice is too strong even for tin;
rcliuinus convert.

The English government at Hong Kong took ad-
vantage of this feeling to ])unish culprits with lo^s of
<|Ui'Uc in addition to imprisonment; and this measure
was also adopted at San FrancLsco in 1870, afte • a
t'ailuie to introduce it in 1873. The victims shrieked
\vitli horror at the sacrilege, and never recovered their
fi'nner self-respect — in this displaying the quality of a
luuuufuctured conscience.

314

MONfiOLTANISM TN AMERICA.

Whatever neglect the body may suffer, the head
receives frequent and religious care, as' may be jucl'j,f(l
from the large number of barber signs display i« I in
their quarter. Here we have, histead of the stiiprd
pole of the ancient blood-letters, a green franu; wiiL
four legs, each tipped with a red ball, in imitation of
their washstands. The shop is gcneralh" a baseincnt
room, furnished with a stool for the victim, a wasli-
stand before it, and a bench for waiting custoiiins.
Every part of the skin above the shoulders is waslud
in warm water, without soap, and shaved, all except
the small patch on the crown where the qui r.o is
rooted; for, until the youth attains the magic a^o o\
forty, he is not supposed to cultivate a nmstacbo and
goatee, which by that time may be induced to struii'^lc
into existence. As for whiskers, they are never seen,
even on the rare hidividual wlio happens to possess
indications of a crop. After scraping, polis]lill^•. and
carefully inspecting the skin, the barber trims tlie
eyelashes, tinting them at times, and probes, shaves.
and scrapes the ears, nose, and tongue. Still grcati r
attention is given to combing:, cleansing, oiliu''", and
inter-phiiting the queue with a long silk ta.ssel. Tin
Chinaman issues refreshed in spirit, and confinnid in
his hopes of heaven. The abolition of the (jueiii'
would be a great stritle toward breaking the banier
of Cliinese conservatism, and of opening tlic; way fur
western civilization.

The care given to tlio head is by no means extruded
to the bodv, although tlie dress indicates neatness.
Among the Chinese in San Fi'ancisco there has imt
been found a sufficient number to support a sinul''
bath-house; one which was opened by a rasli spi'ula-
tor had to close its doors. Nor are the accoininnda-
tions of the lod'jjinu -houses of a character to admit
even of a sponge bath.

The favorable inijiression made at the first by tin'
China ])ovs, as they were called, was not destined u<
last. If John was mild-mannered, he was also arttnl

i.i.i).

CHINESE CHARA( TKUISTICS.

S15

011(1 insinuatino'. Although ])e was so inoftensive, so
uiiiil)trUvsivo and retiring, jot lie was soon found to
be no less positive than he was exclusive. To his
uimiuc dress and customs he had clung so long that
Ii(> could not in a moment shako them off. The pro-
oivss wliicli two thousand v* ars a<jjo was arrested in
iiiiii, mad(! frigid by the ghosts of his own conjuring,
(■(Uild not be innnediately tliawed even by a Californian
sun. Tliere w.as in him no sentiment or sympathy
that Christianity could reach. Otier him wliat we
iinKt lii'jhlv prize, he had better. Our clotlies were
liungling l)eside liis. In eating, what is the use of
so much clatter of knives and forks, when chop-sticks
answer every purpose? Offer him our alp]ial)et, and
lie shows us one his forefathers used wlieii ours were
yet savages. Offer him our religion, our (;io(l, our
lu^aven, he has scores of his own manufacture better
;ni(l cheaper. Offer liim silver and gold, and there
you touch him; that is liis only vulnerable jxiint.

With the sudden arresting of his material progress,
'lis iiiiiid likewise seems to have become fossilizi'd.
l)ut not so his passions. Or if they Wv're brought to
a jiause. it was after being thoroughly roused. For
suoli unruffled outwardness when at rest, John has a
most ungovernabU^ temper when stirred. Vou may
lall it cournge or desperation, but when once com-
iiiittcd. he cares no more for liis life than you for
yiiur little finger. Ho will not willingly rush into
danger; in fact he will go far out of his way to
aviiid it: but once entangled there is no tig-M- move
savag(\ It is when h^ lias given u]t all hop( tiial he
is strongest.

We like things because they arc new; the China-
man likes them because they are old. Water when
innncrsed in sulphurous acid will IVcczc if thrown on
a hot iron plate. So with th' " siatic, coated by the
unwavering customs of centuries, when suddenly
tlu'own into the furnace fire of the Californian Inferno.
His traditions froze to him all the closc^r. (^hange

fi.

II:

I .1 .J

*i:il

316

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

might be the only fixed phenomenon of the universe;
it might apply to mountains, and seas, and planets,
but the word had no significance for John. Like om-
niscience, lie is unchangeable.

Neither have the Chinese been fortunate in convert-
ing America. Though they brought hither their
gods, and erected temples, our priests were obdurate,
and our people profane. Hard were our hearts, into
which the truths of their ancient culture and their
blessed religion would not sink. Our hoodlums made
martyrs of some of them, or at least mince-meat ; nuui}'
of them we reviled, and some we crucified.

The Asiatic olfactorv organs were earlv educated
to smells repugnant to the uninitiated ; and the Chi-
nese culinary and tonsorial arts, the chop-sticks exer-
cise, and the vermin-hunting, as witnessed from the
sidewalk, to sav nothing of the vvinninij; wiles of eat-
voic(.'d sirens, by which were enticed from the jiatlis
of virtue the noble hod-carrier, the restaurant cook and
the sailor, and the thick, putrid atmos])here wJiicii
issued from opium and gambling dens — these and like
infelicities turned the Euroi)ean stomach.

And most unkind of all, most ungrateful, most dia-
bolical, John would not become a Melican man. Af-
ter all the advantaoes oiv':>n him to cease his swinish-
ness, and rise to the dignity of a member of this
greatest of connnonwealths, to become the fir.st of
created things under the first of creators, an Amerieaii
citizen, a voter, with the privilege to manipulate jui-
maries, to stutt" ballot-boxes, to fight and get drunk
gratis at elections, to dodge his taxes, and swear biji
round Chri.stian oaths; aye, and with tin; privilcue
even of holding office, with all its glorious honors and
perquisites, such as bestowing favors and granting
contracts, half the proceeds from which by some mys-
terious process should find their way into his own
j)ocket; and accepting bribes, and punishing all liont st
c'Hort made for the «'ood of the country — as he deiliiicd
all these blessings and privileges, the great Anierieaii

CHINESK AND .TAPAXKsE.

317

heart became estranged from its Asiatic brother, an<l
we cursed him.

Xow, John might go to the devil ; nay, lie nmst go
tlwrv. It became the immediate duty of t^very Amer-
ican citizen to send him there. Sunday-school teachers
luij^lit make an angel of him if they liked, and give
him wings; tliere was no special objection to that;
Init out and away, any whither, .Fohn must go ; for in
California lie had sinned unpardonably, he would
not i)e a voter. He would not spend his money dritik-
iii<; bad whiskey ; opium was good enough for him.
Horso-racing, midnight roarings, faro, monte, poker,
or seven up, he did not care to cultivate, preferring the
oM ixamblinu tTinK";; "us juother taui»ht him while vet
a little boy vi t. ; \ A half-century of steady
cursing confirms I lie iiabit.

The miners were the first to see that Joluj woukl
not do for America. For a time the Asiatic was a
favorite along the foothills as in the <'ities. He used
to build his little hut under the bank down by the
stri'ain, away from the rude noise of the camp, and at
a rt>spoctful distance from the six-foot-four men from
Kentucky and Missouri. Seeing the Melican men go
fntli to prospect, he, too, sought the ravines and upper
folks of the streams which drained the Sierra slo[)es;
and l)oing as artless as he was iimocent in those days,
whenever he was successful he dil not hesitate to dis-
play the results of his good fortuiie to his big brother
of the free and greai ; ?pid/li< But wheji told to
loav(! the rich digging \viucli ho Iwxl found: wiien he
siiw outstretched from the br., v: y Tcmu'ssi'oan's fist
a mighty finger, pointing away from his claim toward
the old worked-out bars and rl\or banks ludow, and
heard the classic ejaculations, "'(litl A'^amouso I (Jo I"
then the single heart became twenty, and the single
eye saw divers ways, anfl John grew .'^ly an<l cunning,
mid thenceforth would n- tell his great-souled brother
all he knew. The ?;"> • the western border man
abused the Asiatic, the i au he hated him; and

'! i

318

MONOOLIANLSM I^T AMERICA.

li'-Ktii

theiicefocli to this day John has scarcely had a friend
in tliis all-enibracing repubUc.

Ill 1800 canio from Japan distinguished visitors;
an. I in trutli it made the gods on high Olympus lau^li
to see these so lately wliite-skinned growlers toasting
tliemselves drunk at public expense over Asia's latent
sent, and all because; they were not laborers who
would interfere with the rights of our European mas-
ters. It was well to honor these great ones of Asia;
and yet the gods did laugh 1 Were not these Vfry
islander-\vorshii)pors grinding their neighbors of the
mainland day by day into the very dust, stoning tliciii
in the street, dogging them i; ■ •'•'dative halls, and
cutting their tails in court, and i, cause they wvw
poor, and the uncombed voters froni Europe demanded
it? To the naked eye there is little in point of iiiciit
to distino'uish between these men of Asia. One is a
newer convert than the other; one wears tlie Itaii
mixed with silk in a long i)endant braid, the other
docks the well-greased tail and points the stub fur-
ward; one shaves all but the crown, while the other
shaves the crown and nothing else ; one wears wooden-
soled shoes, the other sandals. Surely these grave
distinctions should bo sufficient to satisfy reasonable
gods why men display worshipful affection for one
co})per-colorcd Asiatic and such diabolical hatred for
another.

A visitor to San Francisco's Chinatown feels as if
he had been suddenly transferred to another land.
Yet he finds no pagodas with curved eaves and nunifier-
less stories, no oriental palaces with gardens and cool-
ing fountai: '?, no picturcsquo bamboo huts with
trailing vines, but only a series of diiiLjy brick build-
ings in American style, mingled here and there with
some old-fashioned frame house, but the whole 1 tears,
nevertheless, an outlandish look. Balconies abound,
running either the whole length of the house, or
appearing in detached fragments at the wmdow-^ on

SAN KKANnsrOs CHINATOWN.

31U

(JiUlient stories. Tliey are frequently of a cluintiy
(oii;>truction, like coops, and disfi^L>ure the buildingjs
witli their superstructures of boards ami trellis-work
scrvini^' for pantries, and with their lines and poles
wlicrcon dilapidated garments are fluttering. Their
fliitf use, however, is for holding plants, which relieve
t'le dingy exterior with streaks of bright green, shed
illiuiiinating rays of beauty, and refresli the stale at-
iii()>pliere. They form the sole adormnent of the
windows, whose curtains are the incrustated dust,
(ha{Kd in cobwebs and red paper charms. Many
(lours and windows, oven in the upper stories, arc pro-
tcctt d <»n the outside witli heavy wooden bars, form-
iiiLi' souvenirs of tlie oft-threatening outbrci^'s against
tlu' (ii(Uj)ants. Huge and tiny signboards, ail lengtli
and Mi> breadth, with vertical inscriptions in led.
lila(l<, oi' gold, on red or green, white or black ground,
tlaiuiL their moral and florid titles in all directions.
Often the board combines all the colors of the rain-
bow, as well as fret-work, and is surmounted by a
<ano[)y of rt>d cloth. Every house in Dupont street,
till' central artery of this network of jSIongolian veins,
liiais ;i number of these siijns, indicating one continu-
nils line of stores and worksho])s, whence issue the
blows of hammers, the rasj) of files, the click of S(;w-
iiiLj-niachines, to mingle with the tramp of feet. The
fountain-head of wealth and center of trade lie in Sac-
ramento and Commercial streets, which are almost
• iitiivly occupied by the stores and offices of wholesale
iiicreliants, guarded by strong in^n doors in green and
black. The approaches are clean, and the interior
Woodwork has generally a yellow grained surface.
Huge ])iles of rice bags and tea chests fill one side of
t\\c store, while the others are covered with pigeon-
holes and drawers containing silks, drugs, fancy gt)ods,
and samph's. On one side of the entrance stretches
T. (•t)unter, behind which is seated a number of clerks
ill small, dark blue caps, with a red button in the
t'lown, who regard the visitor with calm indifference,

3ao

MONdOLIANLSM IX AMEKICA.

* ■-,..

:|i

i i K) ; Ih

v] .'Ik

;;!li

while near the window, beliiiicl a red {ind green raiHnfr,
is the book-keeper, busily painting hieroglyphics with
his nimble brush. Numbers of loungers occupy the
benches outside the counter, and chat or gaz(> with
]>lacid contentment on the scene before them. Tlic
retail stores are nearly all in Dupont street, and no-
ticeable by their motley dis})lay in the? window nt'
white-soled slippers, opium and tobacco pipes, dom-
inoes and markers, chinaware, from small tea howls
to stately vases, dolls, and ima*j[es of fat-bellied LTods
and draped babies, charms, sham jewelry, fans, Juj)aii-
ese ware and cabinets, artificial boufjuets illuminated
with tinsel and set with images, and other strange
gimcracks. The pigeon-holes within arc closely filled
with packages in curiously figured characters. Sonic-
times an entres(d is to Ite seen, with a crowd of busy
W(n-kmen, while below sit the usual loungers, mingling'
their tobacco smoke with the whiffs of the equally
languid men behind the counter. From an adjoiiiiivjj
store comes an unintermitting click, and within are a
do/A'n Chinamen in dark blue habiliments bending eacli
o\er a sewing machine, and turning out in rajtid suc-
cession overalls and slop goods, shirts and embroidery,
a work at which they have surpassed the white motlier.
encund)ered with her troop of children, and are out-
strip[)ing her delicate daughters. A little beyond is
/. cvjfixr f'actorv, still more crammed with a busv crowd,
which, seated at a long table, roll soothing Hahanas
for raving anti-coolie men. On the opposite side arc
Several tinsmiths, doing a large business not only for
their own peoide, but for those enterprising white men
who always seek the (dieapest market. Here and
there a watchmaker occupies a portion of a store, and
finds good emplo^'inent in mending alarm clocks tor
laborers. (»r watches for departing miners.

At the entrance to a lodging-house a cobbler lias
installed himself with a stool and some implements,
and is bending over his horn spectacles, intent on a
boot of suspiciously white-foot dimensions. Just eut-

■,'. til

HOME MANUFACTURES.

321

side, a fruit vender has erected his stall, glad, perhaps,
to pay a rental for the privilege of obstructing the
iu)no\v sidewalk. The fruit is divided into tiny lots ;
li avcs arc rolled into cornucopias to hold a mixture
iit'li'4 cake, almond, and melon, all cut into the small-
est of slices. Dried fruits of uninvithig aspect and
stranj^o appearance fill various compartments ; grcasj-
cakes in yellow papers and of rancid taste minglo with
hiuis and confectionery in towering pyramids. Near
liy stands a crowd, entranced by the celestial strains
of twanging guitars and clasiliing cymbals, which issue
t'roiii a gaudy building in front of them. The facade
is painted in imitation of gray-streaked marble, which
sinks in a bright green toward the upper story, and is
covered with arabesque decoration here and there,
surmounted by a gaudy cornice. It has two long low
halcoiiios of wood, with railing in red and green, and
with innumerable fringes and fret-work in a medley
(if ('t)l()rs. Fanciful lanterns of paper and of figured
glass, round and octangular, hang from the blue ceil-
ings of the balconies, while the floors are set witli
long-Icaved plants and dwarfed trees. Some of the
windows have stained glass, and one in the center is
circular. Tliis is one of the half dozen gcod restau-
rants in the quarter, doubly interesting from the fact
that they are the only buildings of a true Chinese as-
pect, forming a most agreeable break in the monotonous
(hngyness around. The lower story is used as a store
for the sale of crockery and dried, preserved, and
cooked articles of food. The regular provision stores
arc met with at frequent intervals along the street,
appealing to eyes and nose with squalid stalls and
half putrified delicacies; disjointed pieces of meats are
oast in all directions, and suspicious looking carcasses
of smoked pig dangle from the hooks. Pigeon-holes
and stands are filled with fresh, salted, and prepared
vc;^v(.tables, fish, and fruits ; while a role of poles and
>tiings in the ceiling suppo)*t dried fowl, roots, and
Hitches of bacon.

Kss.vYs AND Miscellany 2i

ii i!

322

MONdOLIANLSM I!; AMERICA.

Every now and then a papered and lighted passage
may be seen, turning off at an angle, and with a
watchnian at tlie entrance. They are approaclies to
the notorious ffaniblincj dens from which Caucasians
have long shice been excluded, owing to race aiitiiNi-
thy and fear of denouncement. Almost side by side
of them are workshops where there is no cessatic»n oi
toil even on the Sabbath, and where Chinamen may
be seen manufacturing boots and shoes or eiuars, en
bending low over their sewing machines, with back>
that never tire.

The sidewalks teem with life, particularly in t'lie
evening, when the workmen flock in from factorits
and sliops, and on Sundays, when tlie outl\ iiit:
Mongol settlements contribute their quota to amuse-
ment-seekers and market-folk. It is then that tlic
celestial cuticle most expands and adds to the odijrif-
erous medley of burning sandal-wood and singed pit!',
of much-used gutters and reeking cellars. Dosi)it(
the throng the order is admirable, and the aliiKUHl-
eyed glide noiselessly along in their peculiar siiiulo
file, winding in and out between stalls and lookt rs-^ii.
or, stojjping occasionally to listen to the falsetto wliirh
wails to the twang of the ouitar from the attic, cr t(»
the din of the orchestra from the theatre. AVitli
these vie the yells of the cake and nut i)edlars, pm-
claiming the excellence of their wares, whicli for
greater effect are stowed in a glaring red toy jvink,
illuminated fore and aft. Occasionally a rival .sliouti r
flits past with a board on his head, supporting a lit
of thi cups with nondescript delectable conipouiids.

Scarcely less crowded are the by-streets, wlioiv tie
roofs wave with showy linen, and where the sky i>
almost hidden by clouds of laundry-stuff; but all are
hurrying along, for no show-windows, no illuminattd
restaurants, allure them. The most noticeable f( atiiK
is, perhaps, the well-known sign of washing and iron-
ing, painted in red letters on white grf)und, evidently
by some Chinese artist, to judge from the wavy out-

STREETS AND ALLEYS.

3-J3

lino of the letters, and the precedence accorded to
some among them, whicli rise above the level of the
rest. A gust of wind comes laden with the peculiar
odor of a Mongol laundry; a mingling of vapors from
drying clothes, wasted opium, and singed linen. The
int. rior has a tinge of the oriental in its bronzed
figui-cs, robed in short flowing drawers, and over them
a wide blouse, both of spotless white cotton, an ad-
vertisement of their craft. Some are spouting a fine
rain upon the petticoats before them, others are busily
passing and repassing the irons which have been
heated on the stove in the center of the room, while
a few idlers who probably form a part of the night
gang of the scrubbing brigade, are smoking in dreamy
indolence.

At short intervals in the lane a gap invites into a
labyrinth of alleys blocked by superstructures, frail
corridors of wood which run along the upper stories,
and form an elevated thoroughfare, after the fashion
of Chinese cities, while the ground beneath is bur-
rowed into a maze of cellar habitations. You .shrink
from one slimy, greasy wall only to encounter its
noinldwr; you step hurriedly off the rotten plaiik,
spurting its mire, only to land in a cesspool ; sleek rats
cross lazily before you; puffs of fetor greet you from
every opening; unhinged doors disclose rickety stair-
ways to squalid lodgings, or dismal entrances to fetid
ccllai's. Here, in Bartlett alley, the thieves and
ragpickers hold their sessions ; further on, in Stout
alley, bedizened females beckon to the visitors from
the square port-hole. The smoke from kitchen fires
at the doors spread a haze around, as if to dim the
glan^ of vice and shame.

Vou gaze at the mass of humanity, you think of
the narrow limits of the quarter, and you are puzzled
to know how and where it lives. But John has
thori 'Ughly studied the economy of space, and worked
hard on the problem of compressing the largest num-
ber into the smallest compass. Nothing is wasted.

ipi:'

i-l

:■ -t

VM'

I'll;

M;f

Sif !

324

MONGOUANISM TN AMERICA.

Every rook, from garret to collar, which can by my
possible moans bo made to receive the body of a man,
IS made available. Every breath of air is jDrosstd
into service to fulfill its vitalizing functions. Yet tin;
supply is here so restricted as to raise the question
wliether a Chinaman's lungs are not formed on a
difterent principle from ours, or changed in accord-
ance with the doctrine of adaptation. He certainly
seems to thrive in stench where others would suttbcati;.
This inunonse comnmnity of men, as it may be tornud,
is composed chiefly of the peasant class who knows
little or nothing of luxuries or even comforts. They
ask for bare subsistence and a nook, two feet by five
— anywhere.

It was not unusual to find a dozen men ensja<jo(l in
various industries, all within the confined space of as
many feet square ; and where the floor could not ac-
connnodate them, an entresol was constructed, so tliat
the men lived literally on the top of one another,
working and cooking on the benches by day, smoking
and sleeping on or beneath them at night.

In the alleys were rooms six feet square, and of
the same height, containing five to six sleepers. ])ur-
ing two months of 1875, 800 Chinamen were arrested
under the cubic-air ordinance, and 75 of them were ta)a n
from one room in the Globe hotel, which contained a
superior class of tenants, and was occupied by oidy
about seven times the number intended to fill it. To
secure them against poHce raids, many rooms wcrefitti d
with traps, in floor or ceiling, by which the occupants
might escape before the door could be broken in.
Yet policemen might daily be seen driving a team ( f
Mongolians by their queues to the prison where tluy
had to practise respiration in a still smaller cubic area
till the fine of ton dollars was paid.

The fire ordinance is infringed to a more dangerous
extent. The chief safe-guard against a general < oii-
flagration lies probably in the filtliy and moist condi-
tion of the buildings. An army of police would be

WITHIN THE WALLS.

325

required to enforce tlio Vcarious sanitary and safety
regulations. As it is, liardly a due proportion, out of
the police foi'ce of the city, has been stationed
liere, aside from the few specials employed by the
Ciiiuc'se. The proximity of the City Hall is regarded
as a sufficient t)tfset, particularly since the Cliinese
rarely attack white men.

I have already dwelled on the ropulsiveness of the
streets and alleys ; but the neglect and squalor on the
outside, the dust-encrusted windows, the stained and
cracked walls, the cornices fringed with dirt, are as
nothing compared with the interior. The walls ooze
a fetid slime, the passages reek, the bannistcis have a
claimny touch. A dusky nmltitude crowds round
tlie stairs ; faces swarm at every door, inhaling ]ioison,
exhaling worse ; eyes stupefied with drugs jx-er from
every opening. At intervals, in passages, or in alleys,
are small hearths, more or less rude, serving for
kitclicus. Chinmeys are not regarded as needful,
even in the rooms, and their absence may, indeed, be
apjijaudod as a sanitary measure.

If the passages have repelled you, how much more
will the rooms, if you can but nerve yourself to en-
dure for a moment the concentrated odor from opium.
putriHed food, and human efHuvia which belches forth
on opining the door. The walls are lined with bunks,
or rather shelves, about four feet wide, fixed or hang-
ing, and one above the other. A straw mat forms
the bed, for the celestial has a contempt for effiminat-
ing 1)1 listers, and in this breath-heated place he needs
hut little covering, other than the underclothing which
is retained for the ni^ht. At the head is a narrow

111

liar, fixed a little above the shelf, or else a wooden
Uock, to serve for pillow. A cross-piece holds the
lamp, at which the occupant lights his never-failing
pipe of opium or tobacco, wherewith he seeks the
gates of paradise, and then the oblivion of sleej), for
which he shows wonderful powers. In the centre of

326

MONOOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

s. ■■

^m\ '

the room is a t.il)l(', and on it a lamp, consistiiij^' of a
glass tumbler fillud with oil, in which a jMHuliar ('hi-
n»'.so weed supports the wick. Around this the occu-
pants chatter and gamble, lounge and smoke. ( )ii
Sundays washing and menduigare the rule, for despite
iiis surroundings the Chinaman endeavors to picsciit
a tidy person. There is often no room for a stove,
and the fire for cooking is held in a brazi(^r or dish.
The Mongolians congregate no less for society than
for purposes of economy. One dollar a month is
ample to pay the rent, and yet he will divide this ex-
pense by subletting his bunk to another lodger duiiiii^
the day, a la Box and Cox. It is not rare to find one
bunk occupied by three lodgers, each for eight hours.
Such extreme econv)my, such misery, is not compul-
sory, even were he doubly the slave we su})post' hiui
to be. He evidently delights to burrow. If a town
has a low, filthy (juarter, he is sure to feiTct it out
and occu|)y it. lie would revel in the Five ]\)iiits
of New York, in the Seven Dials of London, in tlic
Marinella of Naples, and speedily render them doulily
repulsive with crowds and odors. Belonging as he
does to a water population at home, it is strange that
he has not sought the North beach of San Francisco,
with its congenial scents.

His den has also its attractive features. TIk;
peculiar lily bulbs, set in a saucer half filled with white
stones, and fed by capillary attraction on the water
beneath, flourish and expand their emblems of jjurity;
but in what an atmosphere 1 Stri[>s of soiled red
paper, with moral maxims for the practice of virtue
and equity, flutter on the walls in all directions, and
in many a bunk and window a bunch of joss-sticks,
with red and gilt papers, burn to propitiate the
household patron, and to exorcise the presence of «\il.
But what effect can these maxims have, what jiower
this god, when sunk so low in material corruption?
A talented companion will often discourse witli phun-
tive strain on the guitar, and lead his listeners to

POOR ANn RICH.

887

srcnos of happy . liood, recall the gentle admoni-
tions of a mother, and the pure emotions of youij{j;er
thus; but alas, dec}), dreamy reveries seem to he the
only tVuit of these ctforts.

All homes are Jjot like these, however. The wealthy
iiiticliant is content with the one small room behind
tlio store, but it is the embodiment of neatness.
Miitliiig or carpets cover the Hoor; the walls are
a(lf>iiud with landscape sketches on scrolls, in black
and colored ink, as well as with American pictures.
Un one side stands a cushioned platform, about two
feet in height, with red cushions, enclosed by damask
curtiiins, and within a smoking-tray with all acces-
sories. In this sanctum the proprietor may be found
(luring a great part of the day, seated cross-legged,
lilu! a tailor, to enjoy his siesta and his pipe, llanged
along the wall are a series of straight- backed chairs
and stools of hard shinhig wood, covered with loose
red cushion mats. At intervals are small tables of
tlie saiir^ material, and at their feet stand high, nar-
row, bi ^,pittoons. Several cases of shelving may
be see ..le for books, paper, and small hat-hol(,ler.s,
others for tableware, wine, and fruit. Behind the
door is the bed, with mat or blanket lavers in lieu of
bolsters, whereon the white sheets and blanket covers
lie rolled up against the wall, and at the head a
woodon neck-pillow. This is often devoid of a cushion,
but has a slight indentation for the neck, and is par-
ticularly prized by women to keep their complicated
hair structure intact. A few imaoes, artificial bou-
quets, and other ornaments are scattered about, and
among them distorted roots bearinor the form of
dragons, which were probably installed during the
houso-warming ceremony, and have since remained as
(Jfuardian patrons of the house. Married people in-
dulge in a little more room than the bachelor of the
same class, but the furniture even of the merchant's
laniily home is of the simplest, and more limited than
at tJie store establishment, save an extra plant or so.

328

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

!:■■> 11

I. Hi

'r;:liri'

Indeed, the wife is kept so secluded that all show
may be dispensed with.

On the whole we may conclude that the Mongolian
shares with the antiquarian his superstitious vtiicra-
tion for dust, with the toper his inveterate fear of
water, with the bat its dislike foi* light. To clean the
steps and walls would be a loss of time and labor,
which represent money, and his economic ideas recoil
at the mere njention of such extravagance. To stop
the hummerable rat-holes would result in opening
fresh outlets. His considerations for health have
brought him to the conclusion that the opening of
doors and windows for ventilation might expose liiiii
to the danger of a cold, and disturb his privacy, for
John is fond of this luxury in his own way. This
desire has doubtless led him to discover that the in-
crustated dust on the window panes forms a cheap
and eftcctive blind agahist the bleaching sunliulit.as
well as against the prying eyes of neighbors. Nor
could he endure to make himself conspicuous by a
proceeding so unusual and extraordinary as cleaning.

Indeed, when we consider the combination of cir-
cumstances by which he is surrounded, living in a
lodging house, and sharing his room with a dozen
strangers, it is almost impossible for him to make
even an attempt at cleanliness. Besides, the close
air of a crowded room is far less objectionable than
the stench of human effluvia, to which his olfactories
have longed been trained. The dirty floor, the oozing
walls, are purity compared with the vermin-covend
garments, the leprous sores, to which his eyes and
touch have long since become familiar. Yes, he shuns
not daily, close contact with men suffering from 1 or-
rible diseases, and with lepers rotting away pieccnual
before him. His pores, his throat, have probahly
become equally inured to the rank efiluvia whieli
would breed pestilence in anyone else. Perhaj^s the
ever-present smoke which almost suffocates t)tlMr.«,
the smell of loathsome dishes, and tlio nondescript

i; t-

FILTH AND FOOD.

329

(xlors generally vvliicli fill us with nausea, may be pre-
ventives i)f the threatening pest; the very rats tliat
srauiper impudently before us, may prove to be the
blessod scavengers they need.

The peculiar rules of economy to which tlie Asiatic

submits for shelter, are also made to regulate his

palate. He is not particular as to the quality of his

food, and of this the provision stores atibrd ample

proof. The butcher who flourishes under tlie sign of

Ton Thousand Harmonies, or S(Mne equally euphoiiiou.i

title, scouts the idea of scraping his block, or wi[)ing

his knife, as unproductive labor, and devotes the time

instead to plucking the minutest morsel of meat from

the bono before him. The mangled evidence of his

efforts is exposed on the dingy board, where the pur-

cliasm- may thumb and knead each piece to his heart's

contt'nt, in order to convince himself of its quality.

Beef is not nmch in vogue, for the Chinaman regards

it as a sin to kill boasts that are of value for labor

8'id trade. His religious tradition teaches that the

slayer of an ox shall suffer torments in the world to

come, and if permitted to be born again it will be

only in the form of his victim. Pork is the favorite

meat. Indeed, it is believed that the Chinese were

the first to discover its cxcclK'ncios, and the taste

appears to be all-pervading, for every food, nay, almost

every object among them has a larded taste, a greasy

tf-ueh. Whole piigs are roasted and displayed from

hutc!i(^r's hooks in smoky, shining re|uilsiv('ness.

Pe-ultry alone, however, satisfies the higliest quality

of ajtpetite, and many are the tricks to which the

(vh'stials will resort to secure the' bird. 8i)lit and

flattened ducks and birds are iuiporti'd from China,

whence comes the greater i)art of tlieir luxuries, but

th»> American markets also receive a share of their

earnings. Fish of all kinds are acce])table, and some

'vcn brought in a fresh condition across the

arc

IVillc, with the aid of a [taste in which they arc

330

MONGOLIAN LSM IN AMERICA.

dipped. The Chiiiainaii is quite expert at drving,
curing' and preserving food, in his way, for exact
fresliness is not regarded as essential ; he has an iiinato
respect for the antique, wliether it is represented by
a venerable gray head, or by a decayed cliiekcii.
The stateiiieut that he has a predilection for rats
arises probably from an account of the extreniitit s to
vhich a famine-stricken district may be driven. The
prisons of the confederate states during the war for
the union furnished similar stories. If he likes dogs,
surely we snail-eaters have no rig] it to object.

Whatever may be the truth of such insinuations,
it is certain that the staple food of our Cliinese is
boiled rice, which constitutes their bread. Witli tliis
they often mix the less favored potatoes, and Haver
the wliole with pork, fish, or spice. A bowl of this,
together with the never-failing tea. suffices for a meal.
Tea is drunk at all times, for water is rarely taken,
and tlien only when warmed.

Tlie food is cooked on a brazier with an al)sur(lly
small amount of fuel. The produce-dealer often
unites a kitchen with his business, where the custoin( r
may prepare his food ; merchants have usually tlair
own kitchen.

A large patronage is diverted to the various bnaid-
ing houses, which graduate from well-appointed res-
taurants to filthy cellars. At the latter the aceonniie-
dation is of the meanest kind: a bare plank talile
surrounded by benches; a big bowl of rice and iM»ik
in the center of the mess, each of whose members is
provided with a pair o( pit-fje nimble lads, or che])-
stiek.s, about six inches in length, and with two small
bowls, oiu! for tea, the other for the ricc>. 8eoii|iiii:4
a bowlful from the connnon dish, and holding it with
one liand to the lips, with the other the Chinaman
grasps the fait-je l)etween the fore-finger and tlmmh,
supporting their center with thetipsof themichlleaiHl
ring-fingers, and sweeps the contents into the niniitli
in one c(Mitiimous stream. Tea foHows. The leanl

COOKING AND WASfflNG.

331

at tlie cheapest restaurants costs from eight to ten dol-
lais a month; but this is considered extravagant by
tilt' iiow-conicr, whose means are not yet assured. By
arling as his own cook, sleeping in the smallest bunk,
and wcaringthecheapest clothes, he reduces the nionth-
Iv expenses to six dollars, but this does not include the
{•licrished whifF of opium. As his savings increase he
Ix'conies more indulgent, and even ventures to patron-
ize the superior class of restaurants, where good living
niav 1)0 liad for from fifteen to twenty dollars a month,
aiul where he speedily develops the national taste for
a variety of dishes and dece[)tive mixtures, not unlike
tliat of the French. He nmst have evervthing cut
and minced, ready for the stomach. He objects to
act as butcher at the table, like tlie European, or to
li'a\(! to teeth and digestive organs the work which
may as well be done by chopper and masher. An
indication of his eulinarv skill is the cunnino- with
wliicli he obliterates the original taste or essejice of a
fond with condiments and processes. In the propara-
tinii of sauces he even surpasses Soyer's countrymen.
Til" .lit with wliich Chinese washermen regulate the
fuuDt'SS and direction of the spray from his moutli
U|ti)n the garments, has been a source of admiration
to the uninitiated. Their admiration would increase
were thcv to witness the dexteritv with which th(>
cnok would mix the various condiments bv blowing
timii his mouth the exact quantity needed by the dish
hct'Mir him. Many dislies dopi'ud entindy on adjuncts
tor savor; and the taste as a rule inclim/s to rancid oil
and doubtful lard.

Ill order to fully appreciate celestial cookery wo
liuist visit a leading icstaurajit. The outsido beams
Nvitli attractions: the facade is a ijor<j;eous nicdlev (d'
colors, wherein red and green predominate; and bal-
conies are tilled with Howers, lanterns, and Hashy tin-
sel. The ground floor is used asa provision store; on
the second floor are the common dining-rooms, and on
tilt third, the grand saloon for parties and first-class

332

MONGOLIAXLS.M IN AMERFCA.

customers. It has false archways, with an alcovo for
niusiciaiis, and is furnished witli carved and ridily
[)()lislied stools, round or square, and ponderous, and
with tables both of mahogany or dark Chinese wdmiI,
inlaid with marble, and the stools covered with sinall
mats. This saloon is at times formed into numerous
small divisions by screens or trellis-work, ornameiitrd
with foliage, birds, and monsters in various colurs.
Round tiie walls are lacquered boxes, and caljiiicts,
musical instruments, and bills of fare ; the whole pre-
sided over by tlie idol Kwan Sing. This is the place
where the grand banquets are given, in hcmorof pmiii-
inent men, (m the inauguration of an establislniuiit,
or on the occasion of a windfall. Associates at a fac-
tory will meet here once a year and testify thoirj^rat-
itude to a kind employer by a supper, which ofttii
costs from two to ten dollars each.

In case of an invitation by wealthy merchants, pink,
gilt-edged notes of invitation arc sent, with two t a-
closures, one presenting the conqiliments of the hosts
or their i)roxy, the other announcing that a sliglit iv-
past awaits the light of the guest's presence. Tlu'
reception-room is furnished with tables, bearing trays
with cups and smoking material, from which the ar-
rivals are offered tea ami cigars.

The dining-room is all aglow with lanterns and
teeminsf with waiters. The circular tables, wiili
snowy covers, acconnnodate four to twelve guosts. l)i •
fore each of whom stands a pile of tiny p]at(>s and
saucers of fine porcelain, and a saucer of Howi is
which are at their disposal. By their side lies a wliito
silk na[)kin, a porcelain spoon, and a pair of i\"ry
chopsticks. Every guest, or set of two to ft»iii'. is
provided with two metal tankards, holding eacli a pint
of warm tea and liquor respectively. The latter i-^ ii
white brandy, or a red liquor, rnnn qui lo, (lisfillid
from rice and flavored with attar of roses. No s|»it('s
are i)rovi(lc(l, since the food is supposed to be duly s^a-
soned. Circular wafers, about two inches in diunu iti',

AMONG THE ARISTOCRACY.

333

are often used to envelop mciutlifuls of food. Many
(Jlslirs are arranged in eartliern bowls round tlic soup.

W'luMi all are seated the host returns thanks to tlie
Ducsts for their attendance, and invites them to par-
take of the appetizers, which usually consist of cucum-
bers, pickled duck, eggs, and ginger, salted almonds,
melon-seeds, celery, and a variety of nuts, not forget-
ting; the nmo qui lo, which is sipped between each
(lisli after a seriatim bowing all around, and amidst a
hul)hub of conversation,

TIk; dinner proper now opens with, say, fried
shark's fin and grated ham ; stewed pigeon with bam-
boo sprouts ; roast sucking pig ; boned duck stewed
with grated nuts, pearl barley, and mushrooms; fish
simws with ham ; stewed chicken with chestnuts or
water-cress; dried oysters boiled; bamboo soup;
sponge, omelet, and flower cakes ; banana fritters ; and
biids-nest soup, made with minced ham and chicken-
bnast, and particularly with that rare delicacy, the
inucilagiiious sea-moss, picked from the vaves by a
siiecies of swallow which frequents the coasts of Ma-
lacca and the Indian archipelago. Their nests are
found on the sides of precipitous cliffs to which access
can he gained only by lowering a rope from the sum-
mit. Their rarity, ind the trouble of gathering, make
tiieni worth their weight in gold by the time they
reacli San Francisco. The taste of the sou]) is mjt
unlike that of vermicelli. There are also other dishes
wliich cost up to a dollar a mouthful. A sip of tea
concludes the first course ; and whatever the objec-
tions may l»o to many of the dishes, the stranger <"in-
not hut admit the superiority of this beverage, con-
sistiiiif of the first liijfht infusion from the most
delicate leaves, which cost not less than five dollars a
pound, rireen tea is avoided as being artificially ctd-
"I'cd. Tea is served in tiny blue-flowered cujis, with-
out milk or sugar. The tea leaves are probably sent
to tlie lower story to surrender the second and less
delicate eft'usion to the servants.

334

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

.V I :

Each dish is served cut and minced in quart bowls,
many of which are silver-plated and provided witli a
metal heater in the centre, filled with coals to keep
the food warm. From this the guests help themselves
to one mouthful, with the aid of a spoon or chop-
sticks, and either transfer it directly to the lips or
nibble it from the tiny plate before them. The host
will sometimes honor the guest by conveying to his
mouth a choice morsel with the chopsticks just re-
moved from his own lips, or he will place his own rup
of liquor to his friend's lips.

After the first course the company retires to the
anteroom for half an hour to chat, smoke and gather
inspiration from the cymbal clash, the twang of gui-
tars, and the shrill strains of the singers, preparatory
to another onslaught. After this first course the
chief men retire, in accordance with celestial etiquette;
after the second course those next in rank or iiiiiiort-
ance drop off; and so the diminishing continues until
none but the commoner class remain during tlu; fol-
lowing one or more courses, each of at least a dozen
dishes.

The second course opens with tea and liquor, fol-
lowed by lichens; terrapin-shells, flavored with onion
and seasoned with water chestnuts ; mushrooms with
hundred-layer leek ; Chinese quail ; brocliettes of
chicken hearts ; more shark-fins, fungus, nuts, and
mince pies ; rice soup, stewed mutton, roast duck.
pickled cucumber, and so on till the stranger gas) is for
breath, while the initiated, who knows what is before
him, reserves his powers, and by only nibblinjj; at
each, manages to taste of all. After the second
course there is an exchange of complimentary speeches.

The desert presents an equally long series of fancy
dishes, of rather delicate cakes and nuts of all kinds,
and in the form of birds or flowers ; water-lily seed :
jelly of sea-weed ; oranges apparently fresh, but tilled
with a series of jelly layers of different colors : the
whole concluding with a variety of fruit, and the tea.

END OF A GRAND BANQUET.

335

At the close of the long banquet it may happen
that the liquor has affected the otherwise temperate
Asiatic, who accordingly retires to the cushioned
alcove in the adjoining opium room, eitlier to sleep off
tilt' fumes or to seek the paradise hidden within the
divine drug.

The opium habit is fully as prevalent among the
Chinese as smoking is with us, although the better
class ])retend to condemn it as severely as we do hard
drinking. The annual import of the drug in San
Francisco is over 45,000 pounds, retailing for nearly a
million of dollars, and half as much more is probably
8inu;4gled in by steamboat employes and immigrants,
despite the vigilance of the custom-house officials.
Tiic Chinaman is generally content to smoke in his
own bunk, yet large numbers of public resorts are
patronized. The common den is not like the neatly
(ushioned alcoves of the bettci resfaurants, where
each may have a bunk to himself and an attendant.
A dingy barrenness is apparent in the rooms of the
lower class, despite the hazy atmosphere, and among
tlie oppressive odors of the confined room that of pea-
nut seems to predominate. In the centre is a table
with a liijht, and the walls are lined with bunks or
shtlves, one above the other, furnished witli a mat
and wooden pillows, or at most with a suspicious
looking l)lanket or mattress. Each shelf receives two
1110)1, who lie face to face, head to the wall, and share
hetwccn them a peculiar lamp with a small flame. A
fixed charge is made for this accommodation, with a
pipe, l)ut not including the opium, which may be pur-
chased at any store. The pipe consists of a bamboo
or Wood stem, nearly two feet long, with a half inch
perforation. To the side, near the foot, is screwed a
covei'ed bowl of stone, clay, or hard wood, nearly two
inches in diameter, with a small orifice on the cover
for tlie reception of the drug. This is kept in a tiny
horn box, in the form of a thm black imste, from which

330

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

the smoker takes a drop on the tip of a wire pin,
turns it over the flame for a couple of minutes, wlieii
it bubbles and hardens somewhat, after which he
pushes it into the orifice of the bowl. He then liolds
the pipe to the lamp, and placing the lips against the
end of the tube, he takes a deep pull, the pelkt his-
sing in response, and the tube gurgling. The siiKil^e
is drawn into the lungs, retained for a moment, and
expelled in a white cloud through nostrils and niouth.
It takes but a few whiffs, and about one minute, to
exhaust the charge, and the smoker proceeds to re-
plenish it, meanwhile growing more and more hilari-
ous or sullen, accordmg to his temperament. At
last after half a dozen or a dozen charges, with an ex-
penditure at times of nearly an ounce of the drug, the
smoker becomes stupified, the hand and pipe dn^p,
the head falls back, the body relaxes, and tlie s[tirit
wings its way to realms of bliss. Mundane reahties
fade ; a paradise reveals itself wherein fairy-liko pal-
aces invite the sleeper to enter, and bright fresh gar-
dens allure him to repose ; where the air vibrates with
melodious strains ; where angel forms float upon an
ether of delicious perfumes. After a ffsast of nectar
and ambrosia, the soul meanwhile revelling in joys
which words cannot describe, he awakes nervous and
uncomfortable, with a yet stronger desire for a renewal
of the debauch.

Many use opium in moderation, as a soothing re-
laxation after the fatigue of the day, and as a panada
for the ills of the flesh ; but the drug is mo.st insidious,
and more apt to gain ascendency than alcohol. By
inhaling the smoke the system becomes saturatttl
with the poison ; and as the victim becomes lost to its
influence he passes the day in listless misery, waiting
only for night when he may escape it by another
trance. He takes up his abode in the den, and lies on
the bunk a ghastly pale figure, heaving spasmodically,
and with glassy vacant eyes. He sinks into physical
and mental imbecility, and hurries to an early grave.

THE OPIUM HABIT.

887

Good opium costs as much as twenty -five dollars a
pound, but the scrapings from the pipes are mixed
with tiie cheaper kind sold to the impecunious.

Numbers of strictly guarded dens weie kept es-
pecially for the accommodation of white men of all
(lassos, and of abandoned women, who mingled in
reckless disorder. The municipality of San Francisco
was finally induced to repress this growing danger by
iiiipi )sing heavy fines on keepers and frequenters ; but
Chinese servants must have aided to spread the vice,
for large quantities of opium are bought by others
than Chinamen. The not uncommon habit of eating
it is still more dangerous, as the poison then enters
directly into the blood, and is almost certain death.

The Chinese also are great smokers of tobacco.
They use an aromatic tobacco for cigarettes, and also
for i)ipes. Their tobacco-pipes are ponderous metal
cases of square or fancy shape, with a receptacle for the
weed on one side, and a pocket for water on the other.
A small narrow tube fits into the pocket, and into this
the tobacco is placed so that the smoke may pass
through the water. On the side of the pipe are
sheaths for holding trimming and cleaning- sticks.
Betel nuts are chewed by many.

The most conspicuous evidence of the Mongolian's
presence among us, next to his own striking person,
are probably the signboards with their persuasive in-
scrij)tions of Shun Wo, Hang Ki, Ah Lin, and the
like, which stare us in the face at every turn. The
laundry-keeper who appeals to our patronage has so
far infringed upon his conservative principles as to
announce his calling in a style suited to our barbaric
ideas, but not so in his own quarter. Here the pres-
ence of another civilization is at once made manifest
in the orientalism of the gaudy red and gilt letter-
ing on the black signboard, which hangs vertically,
sitifnificant of the isolated and stationary character of
that culture. The words may not sound musical to

Essays and Miscellany 22

S38

MOXOOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

our ear, but wlicn translated they certainly are most
flowery, partaking indeed of the sublime and lujavt'iilv.
Wo, for instance, with its doleful reminder of tcncs-
trial miserv, becomes "Jiarmony" in their lanLrii.i'c
and is a favorite denomination with merchants. Tlio
nieansounding Tin Yuk is transformed into "heaveiiK-
jewel." Eacli place of business or abode has its nintto
or title, which is chosen with the most careful consid-
eration of its lucky import, denoting some cardiiKil
virtue, wish, or phrase of welcome, and couclicd in
classic or poetic terms. The sign is duly inst.dlid
with religious ceremonies and conjurations, and !).■-
neath its potent charm, for the invocation of ]d;_dier
powers, and for the allurement of weak mortals, docs
the merchant hide his own cognomen, in accordance
with the code of celestial humility. Every ohjtft in
the establishment is blessed in the same way. amid
appeals to various idols, and in particular to J^soi Pah
Shing Kwun, the god of wealth, to whom all address
their prayers for prosperity and riches. The nrntto
is often made to denote the obj(^ct of the estaldisli-
ment. Thus, Fragrant Tea Chambers, Balcony of
Joy and Delight, or Chamber of Odors of Distant
Lands, are apjjlied to restaurants. Hall of Joyful
Relief, Great Life Hall, or Everlasting Spring cannot
fail to indicate an apothecary shop. Clothiers sport
the elegant and ornamental, and, to make doubly sure
of recognition, the weaving or embroidery of the \vt-
tering is made sugijostive. The jeweler's si'iu is
Original Gold, or Flower Pearls. The butchers liang
their notice, "we receive the ijolden hoijjs," bcncatli
the motto of Virtue Aboundinij, or Brotherly I'nion.
Lottery establishments allure with Winning Hall or
Lucky and Happy, while Fan Fan saloons urg(^ you
to Get Rich and attain Heavenly Felicity. Besides
auspicious signs of this character, stores have another
board with notices of the goods they sell. The interior
is also decorated with a profusion of red slips hearing
moral quotations, good wishes, or exhortations, where-

SHOP-KEEPINO.

889

wltli to inspire the visitor with confidonco in the vir-
tui'S of the j)la<'0. Over tlio door may he tlie an-
iiouneenient Ten Thousand Customers Constantly
Aiiiving, and immediately after tliis |)atent falsehood
lie fcads the assurance that Neither Old nor Young
will ho Deceived ; but, of course, if he is a Chinaman
l;c knows better than that — or if he knows that lie
will he deceived, then he is not deceived, and tho
iimtto holds good. Nor is he likely to abate one iota
of liis chattering before the notice, One J^ook, One
Utterance Will Settle the Business. Safes, scales,
and other articles bear such talismanic inscriptions
as Amass Gold, Be Busy and Prosperous.

I*rivate houses are ecjually well provided with
wishes. The entrance bearuig sucli words as ^lay the
Vwc Blessings Enter; the stairway. Ascending and
Descending Safety and Peace; the room, Old and
Young in Health and Peace, or May Your Wishes be
(Jf.ititied.

Oiu- more they might have added. Familiarity
breeds Contenjpt, and then have thrown away the
whole. For here we have the explanation, why the
celestial always remains so passive; and devoid of
nvd'ence in face of the array of sacretl and social
admonitions. Nevertlieless, they serve a purjiose in
the code of oriental politeness, for he of our western
east does not plunge at once into business on making a
call. Time is taken to exchange compliments, par-
take of refreshments and to chat, during which the
maxims frequently servo as a theme.

Shrewd as the Chinese traders are supposed to be,
tluy have none of the enterprising spirit of our dealers.
No attempt is made to displ;>y goods. The few arti-
clt's exhibited in the windows indicate no attemi)t at
tasteful arrangement, and no care is taken to allure
the customt^r who enters. Everything is packed so
as to occu[)y the least space possible, although in ad-
mirable onler, aiul but little r((om is left to move in.
Several branches of business are often carried on in

340

M0N00IJANI8M IN AMERICA.

11 :v-;

iii s

the same shop, eacli with its desk, where the clerk is
busy painting letters on their light brown paper witli
brush and Indian ink. His system of book-kicjiiiiir
appears somewhat complex to the uninitiated, hut is
doubtless as clear and correct as the method of ralcu-
lating on the abacus by his side. Among his ciuticg
is to send around advertisements of new goods, and
for this purpose almost every place of business is pio-
vided with a limited set of types, engraved on }>i( (•( s
of wood, one and a half inches long by three eightlig
of an inch square. In printing, each type is separately
pressed on an ink-pad and stamped on red paper, one
si<;n bolow the other, according to the Chinese mode
of reading.

This is the limit of their enterprise as traders, for
although merchant and clerk are profuse in expressions
of welcome and offers of refreshment and services, yet
the moment business is entered upon they assume a
dignified nonchalance that is truly discouraging to tlie
stranger. Only the goods demanded are produced,
and til is in abstracted manner, as if their thoughts
were bent on other subjects.

There is a number of firms who have amassed
fortunes, chiefly by saving, although a few have fallen
naturally into a large share of the China trade, wherein
several millions have gradually been invested. These
great merchants keep their goods stored near the
wharves, and have merely an office for the transaction
of business in Sacramento street or elsewhere. To
facilitate affairs they erected a kind of merchants' ex-
change as early as 1854, but no other banks exist than
the counting-houses of the different merchants, to
whom savings are intrusted on interest, and who issue
checks. Wliere they keep the large sums wliicii are
so readily forthcoming when called for is not rcvc nled.
Money-brokers exist who are prepared to grant hm\s
to well-known merchants on their word alone, which
is never broken. Indeed, these men have a better
reputation for honesty than the Americans. At New

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

841

Yi ar books are balanced, and all debts settled. Fail-
ing in this they are cancelled or j^race is ottered, but
with loss of credit to the non-payer, who is henceforth
dishonored, unless his eftbi-ts to retrieve himself are
successful. It seems to be a matter of honor with
insolvent debtors to kill themselves, for death alone
cancels unpaid debts. It is a pity this rule does not
obtain in America and Europe. The six companies
wield power over all, and permit none to leave the
Cduiitry who have not settled their debts.

Mine uncle, the pawnbroker, likewise is John, and
drives a thriving business among the poor oi)ium-
sinitkers. His dealings are regulated by a guild, and
licensed by Vvnerican authorities. Everything on
which a bit can be loaned is found hypothecated by
needy persons and gamblers; even prospective wages
are pawned, and in return for the deposit, besides the
money loaned, they receive a ticket corresponding to
the tag attached to the article.

If they do not possess all the various adjuncts of
our enterprising conunerce, they at least learn quickly
enough to take ucb antage of them. It is related that
a Chinaman i.;;u insured his life for a considerable
amount, and on being brought near to death by an
accident, his friends sent to the insurance company to
say that the man was half dead, and that they wanted
half the money. Behind the innocent exterior of tlie
celestial is hidden much cunning, and the white men
who are tempted by this appearance to make him the
butt of their jokes, or to take an unfair advantage,
often find themselves the victims. One day a China-
man entered a Cheap John Jew shop on Conuneroial
street, and picking up one boot of a pair examined it
attentively.

"How muchee?" at length he inquired.

"Five dollars," replied the shop-keeper.

" I give you two dollar," said the Chinaman. The
I-sraelite looked at the heathen for a moment in
mingled disgust and contempt; his large, ungainly

min

342

MON(iOLlANI.SM IN AMERICA.

^? m

'j-l-'ll;];!

1:1]!

lips tlion wroatlii'd tlu'insclves into what by some
iHiji;lit be calletl u smili'.

"All ris^ht, take it," he at leni^dh rcjtlietl.

The Chinaman paid the money, ami was alH.ut
pickin*j; up the other boot to make the pair eoniplt tr
when the shop-keeper laid his hand on him, and bi( ;ik-
iiiH' into a loud lau^h exclaimed, "\o you thm't, vou
heathen! Isold you one boot only. J*av me thiic
dollars ipore, and you may have the other. 11a I ha!
lia!

Not a muscle in tlu; Mon<folian's faee moved, hut
the oopitery tineture eonnnon to his features cliaiij^i ij
to a brassy hue, so deeply stiired was Ik;; then draw-
ing from his pocket a knife, he o))ened it, and hetutv
the faintest susjtieion of what ]n) was about to do
crossed the mind of the shop-keej>er, the Chiiianiaii
cut the boot he had bought into shreds, tlirew it nn
the rioor, and walked out of the shop, thus sjuiiliiig
the pair for any future sale,

Chinese merchants form partnerships, often ot" a
dozen members, who live in their store, where they
kee|) a cook and other servants, and maintain a strii t
exchisiveness fi'oni tlu; conuuon ))e()j)le. IMu'ir rdu-
cation, ri'fined manners, and lil)erality have gained for
them lircat esteem amon«»' our merchants. I'roiiiiiK iit
among them was Chung l^oek, a nuMubcr of the iinii
of Chy Lung & Co. since 1S.")0, who died August .'id,
J8<!S, and whose; funei'al was attended by many
Americans. Their largest dealings are in rice, t' a,
o[»ium, silk, clothing, and fancy goods. The cxtnit
of tluj wholesah; trade may be judged from the cus-
toms duties, which in 1S77 amounted to $l,7r)C>.i)iiO.
From these houses are su|>i>lied hundreds of )■< tail
stores, many of which, especially those keeping fancy
gooils, a])})eal to American patronage^. ]\[any of tliein
are branches of the wholesale establishments. In
contrast to tlu; fancy goods warehouses, aiid reniaii<-
able chiefly for their odor an<l filth, are the provision
stores, with their uiai:gled cliuiiks of meat on diii^^y

! : ■' i ill' ■■

COMMKRCE AND INDUSTRIES.

.^t3

boards, floor, furiiituro, and walls smeared with blood,
liaik holes iilled with suspi('i<)Us-loi)kiug food, vcnjje-
talili- and nondescrii)t. Poles and strings cross one
iiiioilier with repulsive loads of fish, pork, and ducks,
uiHki'going a curative process in tlie smoky atmos-
jihcre, and adding to it their quota of jmtridity.

To become a slR>[)keeper a[)j)ears to be as much an
iiliji( t of the Chinaman's ambition as the Anierieans,
hut the main i)oiiit is to get rich, as indicated by their
Xiw Year's salutation. If he has not the means to
(i|i(ii a shop and await ])atroiiage with dignity, he can
at least stock a })eddler's basket, and armed with the
lici ii>e issued by the nmnicipality f tr ten dollars })er
(|uailrr, he braves the raw morning, the hoodlums
and the dogs, to oiler vegetables, fish, fancy goods,
iiiatcjies and other articles at the doors of the i)eo})le.
The limited use of beasts in China has habituated the
iiiiialiitants to carrying; and however large the busi-
lii >.s may be of the peddler or laundryman, no wagons
aiv used. The vegetable venders may thiily be seen
|iaiiiiiig at a swinging and never-relaxing gait, beneath
l.iD poumls, all packed and arranged with achnirable
cair. Tliev are under conti'ol of certain associations
ov masters, some of whom havt; an arrangement with
iiiaiket-dealers to receive all unsold and rejected stutl".
l\i(li(l vegetables are sometimes taken to a cellar,
\vh(i(i they are freshened with water and })icked. In
\>7i\ the number of Chinese ]»eddlers in San Francisco
and ( )akland was estimated at three hunched.

Andiiotalone vegetable peddlers are thus controlled,
Init <lealers in all branches of trade; tea merchants,
Wiishcrmen, shoemakers, cigar manufacturers, and rag-
|Milorsare likewise suliject to guihis and tra<hs unions,
wlinsc rules modify com[)etition, lix j>rices, and deter-
inint.' other niatters.

Tlio industries of the Chinese in California were
f'liii tly of the ruder kin<h as the immigration comprised
tor the mo«t part uuakillud laborers; hence the rail-

I' I

I I

S44

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

ways came in for a large share of their attention, so
much so that in 18G6 more than one fourth of all the
Chinese in CaUforiiia were employed on them. Evtiv
railroad on the coast has used their labor, thus hasten-
ing the completion of their roads. Their efficiency as
pick-and-shovel men has been tested also on \va;j;()n
roads ; on the Pacific Mail Steamship Company's de[iut,
where they cut away the hill and filled in the bay ;
on the Pilarcitos creek reservoir which was cliIcHy
constructed by them ; and above all by large cxtc nt
of reclaimed land and irrigation canals. For this
work they were particularly fitted by their traininjjr in
the native rice fields, and for its cultivation they liave
shown themselves equally well suited. Amoniij the
large Chinese contractors was the Quong Yee Wo Co.
of San Francisco, which underbid eleven tenders for
the ditch of the Truckee and Steamboat Springs Canal
Co., offering to dig it for $36,000. The C()ni[>any
keeps an army of laborers on the various contracts
held by it.

Their value as farm laborers has been generclly re-
cognized; and but for their ready and cheaper lal)or
the farmer would often have been at a loss to dear
his field or gather his crop. Whole parties flock to
the potato diggings and help to cheapen this needful
food. Most of the small fruit is gathered by them.
Indeed, the long belt of orchards along the Sacramento
and its tributaries in 1876 employed over 2,500 of
them to a score or so of white laborers The stoop-
ing posture the European cannot so well endure, and
the neat handling and trinnning he docs not attain
to. Often the small value of the crop will not pennit
the payment of high wages for gathering it. F« n- the
cultivation of sandy and less productive soil, and t'^r
the hot and marshy valley of San Joaquin, they i>n>ve
more efficient than white men; and in particular for
the introduction and cultivation of rice, cotton, eofVeo,
tea, sugar, and similar products for which soutliern
California is admirably suited, but for which she must

CHINAMEN AS LABORERS.

345

Lave cheap and experienced labor in order to compete
with countries whence we now import them, they are
iinlcspensible. Rice has not succeeded as yet, but
silk culture is promising, and in 1869 a firm at San
Gabriel contracted for forty Chinese families to attend
to its mulberry plantations. The contract was for
four years ; but if they remained permanently they
wore to receive as a gift a house and garden for each
family.

As vegetable gardeners the Chinese were scarcely
exrolled. They had regular plantations on the Sac-
ramento and elsewhere, where they worked for the
proprietor, who furnished teams and some implements,
aiul attended to the sale of the produce in return for
his lialf share of vegetables and grain, and three-fiftlis
of tlie fruit. The tenants employed countrymen la-
borers at from ten to sixteen dollars a month, with
board. Others leased land for a money rental, and
some even ventured to purchase farming land. Above
Eio Vista was a rancho of 2105 acres which was
bimj^dit by a Chinsse joint stock company for thirty
dollars per acre, stocked and improved. Anotlicr
tract of 1000 above Benicia was purchased for
twinty-seven dollars an acre by Chinese. That favor-
ite connnodity of the fruit-dealer, peanuts, was
]arLi;ely produced by Chinese. In 18G8 one man made
81J00 by employing his countrymen to pick wild
mustard in Monterey county. They also had exten-
sive arrangements for the hatching of eggs by artifi-
cial heat. Wood-cutting, clearing fields of stubble,
an<l burning charcoal were branches of work under-
tak( n by them.

Until stopped by trades unions, manufacturers were
gliiil to employ them, particularly since contractors
Wric willing to guarantee them from loss by pilfering,
for which they have a penchant There was scarcely
a tiado into which they did not enter in competition
\vitli white men whom they sometimes succ(>edcd in
ou:5ting, They were to be found in lumber, paper,

846

MONfiOLIAXlSM IX AMERICA.

■■ *'\

'■ If:' ;

I •' ,

and powder mills, taiiiiorics, rope-walks, lead- works,
till hliops, and factories for jute, oakum, sack, Uiu.
l)lacking, soap, and candles. Some were employed as
cabinet-makers and carvers, others as brick-makus,
competing with the convicts, and in condensing sail
from the sea. At Isleton near the mouth of tlic
Sacramento, they worked in a beet-root sugar nfiiu iv.
At ]\[arvsville a numl)cr of broom and sack makers
employed them, and the woollen-mills in San Fran-
cisco had about IGO. The three woollen-mills in San
Francisco eniployed about 700 in 1870. The Kuieka
hair factory could not nuiintain itself but for their
cheap labor to gather and ])repare the soap root ; tlicy
also assisted in making curled hair ami coir for uphol-
sterers. There were at this time thirty Chinese cloth-
ing manufaetories with male and female em})]oyt's,
the females dointi' the lieht fmishini-' work. Ovoalls
and underwear for men and women could not be made
here so as to com})ete with eastern manufactures
except with the cheap and efficievt aid (»f Chimse, of
whonjover 1000 used to ply the sewing machine.

In 1870 there were seventy Chinese establishnients
for the manufacture of bot)ts and shoes, and to eoni-
pete with tiieni the American firms were obliged to
employ a large pro})ortion of Chinese, especially for
making women's an<l children's shoes. Some of the
largest manufacturers, who employed Chimse and
white men in about vi\ui\\ proi)ortlon, were in conse-
quence e\[)osed to great danger at the hands (d' ii\x'\-
tators ; but recognizing their inability to niiiintiiiu
their establishments with exclusively white lah> r,
their own white employes organized into a force to
guard the factory during an excitement. The .^hoe-
makers' union j)resented a dark ])icture of the distri >.s
among its members, and said that the Chinese uerk-
nien, of whom there were UOOO, jiad dcj)rived nioro
than jialf of the 1*200 nuMubers of work, besides
monopolizing the slip[)er traile.

Tlicac men forget, however, that were the Chinese

ci(;ar-makiX(1 and lauxdi:iks.

347

h]h>v dispcnsod with, the factories Avould succumb he-
t'lirc the eastern trade, and tlio white men employed
1(V them would be added to the idle. In this liojit
till' ('hinese may be eonsidi'red, as In fori' remaiktd,
lalh.r as l»eneraet<»rs t<» industry. This aigunieiit a|t-
iihts to a numbi'r of other industries sucii as the

WDOl It'll

(111

cli:

■mills, sack, jute, and hair factories, which
ilil not be maintained, and ])t,>rha[)s could never
vc hcen established, but for the cheap lahor which
uhlcs them tt) com]>ete with the rest of the woi-jd.
!ir ])rices paid to Chinamen are, as a rule, less than
n' w hite labor, the former receiving' in San Fianci

SCO

WlKlIll

11.

n mills $1 a dav, aL;ainst Jsl.7J to i^-2 for skilled

will

te operatives, and from Jjjil to $1.00 fur women and

;irl.s.

If tlio Chinese encroached laro'ely on th(^ shoe
trade, they nearly appropriated the ciijjar manufacture.
Tiir ciL;ar-makers swarmed between Sansonie and
FiMiit streets, and in the loathsome dens of tJie Chi-
iii'sc (|uarti!r, where the chea|i wei-ds pati'oni/ed by
tilt hoodlums were chiefly manufactured. Tluy num
1mv(1 from 4000 to 7000, and nine-ti'nths of the
ci'.'ars and cis^arettes were from their hands. ( Germans
iiitimhicc^d thi'm to the busin(>ss, and had later rea
to (hvad their rivalry. In 1802 the white ci

son

uar'

makers rose

tod

n ve

them out, but faili'd.

A I'Mdm fifteen feet wide and twi'iity in len_i,4h, witJi
a '^ahery for ijjreater (Economy of sj)ace, would hold
iifiuly fifty men, who worked under a foreman ; they
>i!ii»keil and talked at |ileasure, for the work was by
till' |)iece, at from five to fourteen dollars a thousand,
accoi'diii'j: to (lualitv.

itO||;|

luautv. llie average earimiLTs were one
1 a day. The tobacco j»assed throue^h throe pro-
(CSS. s, after beiiijjj moistened by a fine spray from the
i""Uth. The stems of the leaf were extracted by oni>,
itiioth.T rolled up the filler, while a third enveloped
f!i.' V, hole in a wrap|)er, pasted it, and twisted the end
into >haj)e. Ci^ar stumps from the stn'ets formed a
part of the filling for cheap cigars. Besides the legit-

ill

348

MONGOLIANISxM IN AMERICA.

-<B

imate manufacturers, there was a number of illlf it
makers, whose wares were hawked by peddlers, who
kept the cigars hidden in their sleeves or close to tluir
bronzed skin. The Chinese dealer was constantly
evading the tax by omitting to destroy the stamp on
the box ; they got rid of low grade ware by placing a
few good cigars on the top in the box.

In the laundry business the Chinese gained as strong
a footing as in the cigar trade. In 1876 San Fran-
cisco alone contained some 300 Chinese laundries,
employing on an average five men each, and 1,500
more were employed at white establishments. Almost
every block in the city had one or more laundries;
hotels, boarding-houses, and other institutions had
generally one of their own. There is scarcely a vil-
lage on the coast without them. Although not very
enterprising as business men, they have acquired to
some extent the American art of soliciting orders,
and families are sometimes applied to with the not
very clear inquiry, "You dirty?" followed by the
explanation, " Me washee belly clean." They are not
particular as to the quality of the work, but with im-
pressive persuasion they may be made to understand
that spots and wrinkles do not add to the finish of a
shirt-front; still more difficult is it to prevail upon
them to spare the material, which rapidly decays
under their system of pounding and the use of acids
for bleaching. The sprinkling process is most ett'ect-
ively performed with the mouth, and ironing is often
done with hollow irons containing glowing coals.
Arsenic is said to be added to the starch to give a
gloss. The economic principle is carried so far that
the proprietor will employ two gangs, one for the day,
the other for the night, in order to utilize the shop
and its stock in trade to the fullest extent, or two
washing companies will alternate. Their laundry
rental for 1877 was $152,000 and the water tax
$68,800. Laundries are not desirable in any localitv,
for people naturally object to such neighbors, and will

SONG OP THE SHIRT.

349

not take adjoining houses except at a lower rent.
The odor is objectionable, and the danger from fires
is iiirreased, owing to the crudeness of the fire-places,
and the absence or defect of the chimney. In a Chi-
nese song of the shirt to his cousin at home the wash-
man in California thus complains :

Workee, wnrkee,
All same workee,
No time thinkee,
No time see,
Me no likee,
Wliy for workee,
l>aiiii)oor ricee,
Dampoor tea.

Washee, waslice.
All day washee,
All clay gettee,
One rupee,
No buy tfmokee.
All dam boshee.
No buy drinkee.
Poor whiskee.

Chinee countree,
All one samee,
John have pickee,
Big ladee,
Here no likee,
hia damshamee,
All John havee.
One Taddee.

Another work extensively engaged in by the
Chinese, and for which their home training on the
river has particularly fitted them, is fishing. In 1857
we find them employing twelve vessels and several
hundred men in the pearl oyster fishery to gather
aulones, as the meat of this oyster is termed, for the
San Francisco and China market. The Chinese fisher-
men spread rapidly along coast and inlets, and carried
on tlieir quest with such energy that the legislature
of 1859 was induced to impose a tax of four dollars
per month.

In various parts of the bay a series of piles or
sticks may be seen rising from the water to which
nets are attached. At the turn of the tide the junks
or sampans come round with their queer cross-ribbed
sails to receive the catch, including the tiniest min-
now, for before the law was passed regulating the size
of tlieir meshes nothing was allowed to escape them.
The haul is sorted on shore, and the big fish placed
in perforated boxes and kept in the water till the
market boat leaves. The minnows, which include
our choicest food fishes, are dried in the sun and
sliipjied to San Francisco and China. Shrimps are
also caught and dried, and beaten with sticks to release
the shell ; both meat and shell are then packed for
export, the latter being used for fertilizing purposes.
The manifest of the steamer for China, iu May 1877,

3oO

MOXGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

showed an export of 1)45 sacks of slirlinp shells. GOO
of shrimps and 705 of minnows, valued at $•_'_'. (idO.
Other steamers took nimilar lots, showinuj a total
export for the year of nearly one million dollars worth
of this article alone.

This wholesale extermination has made tlio ti>Ii
scarce; for notwithstandinj^ tho law regulating' tl,c
size of the meshes, the Chinese readily })ay tho fine
and repeat the offence. Between Vallejo and Sau-
zalito alone about one thousand Chinese \n\'y njinn
the fish, and obstruct navigation with tlnir \>\\v>.
Under such circumstances it is useless to plant ova.

Near Point Pinos, two miles from ^lonterey, was
a colony of 400 or 500 fishermen, with wonuu and
children, who made a good living by catching ainl
drying smelts and shell fish, with occasionally sdur'
cod and other species. Whaling was not indulgrd in.
being too dan<j:erous. The settlement consistnl of
about 100 frad shed-dwellings, W'ith gardens. |ii;4-
sties, hen-roosts, and drying-poles, guarded by do-s
no less than by the usual odors of celestial (|uaitri>.
among which that of dead fish here predominated.
Yet the huts were rather tidy, and proteetid \>y
moral inscription and an idol patron before' wliuli
joss-sticks and prayers were constantly ofrex d. It
needed but a small portion of the revenue; from
fish and fish oil to supply the few extra artiidcs re-
quired by these temperate people, such as rice, tea,
opium, and joss-w^ood, for the sea and garden supplied
the rest.

The Chinese were not content with waging war
upon the labor of white men, but arrayed thenisi l\ts
also against the women, tho nundxT of house servants
furnished by them amounting to 5000 hi San Fran-
cisco alone. A Chinese servant is as a ml'' iii"ic
willing to do what is required of him than a white
woman who is a])t to offer objections at every tuin.
insistuig on superior accommodation and inc(>nv( ninit
privileges. Asiatic servants are generally neat in

LITTLE CHINA.

351

person, qiiiot, and not at all ol)j((tinnal»K' in tlu'ir
liiiliits. Tlic'ir wai^i's wore maintained tlii(iut;li all the
raids aijainst them, and in 1SH7 wore neai'er those of
white women than in 1857, many housekeepers preter-
riiiLC them to Irish or German jjfirls at the same late.

l';v>;'-pioliing rose into a profession in Little China,
and was of considerable benefit to manufacturers. A
lar.;i! buildinj^ on Verina street, formerly used as a
cliureh, became the headtjuarters of pcrha})s two hun-
dred vagabonds, who increased their revenue by rob-
1)1 IT and mi. '^r. They worked in scjuads, under the
direction ol a e. icf for whom a corner was set aside
at the alco/o con.'^crated to the idol patron. Tlie
rest of this abode was filled with a miscellaneous as-
smtinent of dilapidated household ware, jii>i>Mrel,
jiicccs of food, and scraps of every ima;j;inable material.
Tlie filth was repugnant, tlio odors ovcrijowering, and
vice and disease reigned in the most loathsome form.

So far the Chinese are principally confined to the
lower walks of our industries; but lierc their lack
of (tri'>inality and inventive iii<>enuitv is very con-
s[)icuous for such apt imitators, and militate against
them. Their mechanical contrivances at the mines
and elsewhere have been elaborate, but w\asteful and
ill' IHeiont. The Cornell watch factory at Berkeley
ii)lrn(hieed their labor with most fiatteiin-j: results,
biihcd, there was a nund)er of watchmakers in the
Chinese quarter to whom any work might be safely
intrusted. Still, the genius of the Mong(dian does
not rise above imitation, and at this he probably sur-
]tass( s the white man, for he masters a trade in a few
v.Hiks, which the other requires months or years to
learn.

On the first entry of the Chinese colony into San
Jose, the head man, who wanted ten houses, hired a
larpenter to erect one. While he was constru<'tiiig it,
the Cliinamen lay around, smoking anil idling, but not
without an object. No sooner was the first house
ready than the carpenter was dismissed with the dec-

802

MONGOUANISM IN AMERICA.

' s

laratim that the "Chinaman sabee all same Melican
man," and would now build the rest without his aid.
The stone for a corner building on Montgomery and
California streets, San Francisco, was brought from
China, where the granite blocks were cut and fitted,
the Chinese workmen accompanying the cargo and
aiding to erect the building, in 1852. It is not exactly
a model of beauty or of skill, but did good service.
The cost was $117,000, and it rented at first for about
$40,000 per annum.

A Chinaman at the machine shops of the Pacific
Mail Steamship Company in San 1 rancisco had not
been there long before he made a working model of a
locomotive, which was exhibited at the Sacramento
fair. Their skill at carving is too well known to re-
quire comments ; a Chinese portrait-painter established
himself on Kearney street in 1869, and received many
orders. A sea-captain sent a picture injured by a
rent to a painter at Hongkong, requesting him to
make a copy. In due time he received the work, but
was amazed to find that the rent and stitches had
also been reproduced with such exactness that it re-
quired a close examination to discover whether the
rent was real or not. Chiar-oscuro, perspective, and
other principles are little understood, and brilliancy
of coloring constitutes the chief merit of the art, as
illustrated in the well-known rice pictures. Besides
these, the most common products of the Chinese easel
are plain and colored outline sketches on silk, similar
to the lantern patterns, mounted scroll fashion on the
walls, and representing chiefly landscapes, wherein a
fair linear perspective is noticeable. Straight lines
and uniformity are carefully avoided, and elaborate
maze-like and symbolic lines enter as the favorite mode
of decoration, reflecting the instability of the national
character.

Europeans in China are obliged to be painfully
cautious in dealing with them, and if the traders here

ttk.**'

KASCALITY, WHITE AND YELLOW

3A3

observe good faith, it is ascribed to self-interest and
fear. The same motives may rule engagements
among themselves, but they are well observed. The
reLjular payment of debts at New Year, and the fear
of the disgrace which attaches to a defaulter, arc ad-
mirable features that do not conform to our general
experience of them ; but the barbarian may be regarded
as fair prey. With us they overthrow a contract or
break an engagement <n\ the least whim, listen un-
moved to our remonstrances, and as soon as we have
fiiiislied they turn their back and walk away. While
they arc at work for you, however, they generally
attend closely to their duties, and there have been
found among them rare instances of disinterested
fidelity under trying circumstances.

After all the yellow man is not so very different
from the white man or black man, whether their cre-
ators arc the same or not, the chief characteristics of
the Asiatic in America being a slightly surly and reti-
cent timidity overlying a disposition easily roused to
reckless revenge, but always preferring peace, and of-
ten displaying happy content an<l attachment. There
are nuiuy honest Chinamen, and there are Chinamen
who steal. 1 do not know that the yellow man in
this respect is any worse than the black or the white
man. Indeed our greatest thieves are found among
die rich manij)ulators ; after them the politicians
and ofHec-holders, and lastly the low foreigners, in-
cluding celestials. The thieves' repositories in the
Chinatowns are protected by every inliabitaut, out of
puri^ anti-barbaric spirit. Occasionally the police are
enli;jj]itened by a "ghost" or a spy, and swoop down
to pry into corners.

The inmates are profuse with bland smiles and "no
sabhc ", and when the spoils are uncovered under their
eyes, they still maintain their blandness and denial.
It is liard to say what will ruffle their equanimity.
An ex[)ose of baseness or rascality raises no blush; a
grotesque exhibition draws but a smile; an event

KSSAYS AND MlRCBLLANY

ii
I III

364

MONGOLUNISM IN AMmilCA.

which would rrcatc a fennont of excitement aiiion.,'
wliiUi men does not Ktir tliom. The nonchalance dt
tlit'ir <leatli-condcnnied is well known. They chat loul
smile, cat heartily and 8k:('j).st)undly, without a tin (U-^lit
apiiaiciitly of the scatibld and its dread heyond. Tho
unconcerned exterior hetokens an unsympatlictic na-
ture; yet wliili' hiuij;hter and eliat are freely indulged
in round a funeral hicr. svm|»athy and solf-deuiul are
conmion. The neglect of tin? sick, and the oxjinsiire
of dying ])ers()ns, who are allowed to starve to (i< atli
beneatli their eyes, indicate a heartless inditii ivnro,
but this after all displays a fatalism, a resignation
to the inevitable which helps them through their own
dark hours. Men overtaken by reverses, struek tlnwii
by disease, or pursued by justice, yield to fate, and do
not hesitate to turn upon themselves, plunging into
the unknown.

InditlVi-ent to their surroundings here, the nioniory
of home fills their breast; and formal as may he their
worship of the gods, fervor creeps over the soul as
they bend bc^fore the ancestral tablet. The maxims
of the Great Sage rest uj)on their lips; the gentle ad-
monitions of the mother dwell in the heart, Tli('(hity
toward their fellow-creatures, inculcated from • arly
childhood, is centred in the sacred oblifjation toward
their aged relatives, which extends into a commenda-
ble respect for those old enough to be their parents,
and declines into a feeble elannishness for their iimuo-
diate district folk. The latter may depmd on tlicir
aid for certain occasions; patriarchs commend tlitir
deference; but the respect for parents dee|H'ns into
adoration. For them the son's toils are pleasure; tor
them he sacrifices luxuries ; for them he saves from
his pittance ; and on their graves he sheds his only
tears of pure grief and sympathy.

With this absorbing virtue are bound throe others,
patience, industry, and economy. The former aro im-
pressed on them in school, the latter at home. They
become, in consequence, regular, precise, and plodding,

IDEAS AND IDIOSYNCllACIES.

356

and these are qualities which the contractor appre-
riat( s ill connection with their tenipenito rlispooition,
adiiptable nature, admirable iuiitativo powers, and
ninil)Ie deftness; while the iiousewifo deliji;hts in their
iKtix l(!ss step, quiet <'onduct, polite atul unobtrusive
iiiiiiinrr, and ixat a[)pearcince. But, alas I even in
t'lfir virtues the enemy finds stains. Beneath the
Metii^ol lurks the Tartar. Tiic neatness is allowed
to he superficial only; politeness covers deceit; nieek-
noss is but cowardice, and an inilex of slavish fjubjec-
tioii. Their eeoiioniy sinks cither into niiseily greed,
or sprin-^s uiuK'r the promptings of vanity intocxtrav-
iiLjniit, recklessness. Their imitative powers are but
iiirrhunical, and have never risen to the itivcntive
s|ilrit of the Americans. Their stunted minds have
riiilcd to grasp the progressive enterprise of our insti-
tutions. Their speculative ideas are spurred to action
l)y the ganibling table. Tlieir energy never rises
ahove a sluggish perseverance which sinks into iner-
tia when the task is done. Like a chikl they learn
rapidly the ruilimentary principles, but the effort
sct'Hi.s to exhaust them. Herein lies a clue to the sta-
tionary condition of their empire, awed by the an-
ti(|nity of its civilization, tranuneled by its unwieldy
system of education, and overwhelmed by an exces-
sive populace which, absorbed by the struggle for ex-
i.^tnice, has sunk into superstition, and writhes beneath
the iron heel of an autocratic despotism. So write we
tin III down, good and bad, particularly bad : when we
cross the water to work for them what will they
say of us?

Queen of the Celestials in the golden mountains of
California, during the year 1851, was Miss Ah Toy,
though the mountains proper she never saw, her
Olympus being the Dupont-street hill. There she
reigned, white men kneeling at her shrine, and fright-
ening back birds of darker hue — white men presently
to shout "the Chinese must go! " Aye, the lovely Miss

1f.i'.

'Xi

Ih i

366

MONGOLIANIHM IN AMERICA.

Toy must go. The glories of this Eden reaching the
ears of the sisterhood at home, soon the pathway of
the Pacific was strewed with frail fair ones from tlit
Flowery Khigdom. Women are cheap in China.
Poor indeed is he wlio, wanting more, has hut one
wife; tliough prostitution is not held in groat disre-
pute, the men very justly ruling that the women's sin
cannot be greater than their own. Indeed, if many
of the female infants were not drowned at birth, Mon-
golian millions would long since have smoked o[)iuui
in American wigwams.

It was a fine traffic, bringing peris to Paradise, and
the honorable Hip Ye Tung company, lieavtn-cuin-
pellers and highbinders trading into San Francisco
bay, were rich men before the end of 1852, since wliicli
time 6000 of these tielectable chattels have licen
brought hither at a good profit, thus proving the taste
of the people.

Immediately on landing they were taken to tlic
house of the company. If introduced on speculation,
they were placed on sale at from 100 to 300 per cent
profit on cost in China, and were critically examined
by purchasers from town and country. If introduced
for acct)unt of otiiers, the women were held til! tlieir
owner paid the initiation fee of .$40, in return for
which the company agreed to defend his rights to the
chattel against American authorities, rival slave deal'
ers, and lovers, the latter being particularly dan'^er-
OU3. A regular weekly or monthly tax was further-
more levied on every" prostitute for the same purpose'.

It was throuiih no fault of theirs that tlicv wi re
what they were. Omnipotence must lie (|ucstioned
about it. The poor creatures were generally obtained
by purchase among the largo-footed river jiopulation;
many were decoyed by dealers under fahso promises.
or forcibly abducted. The famine-stricken jiareiits
found it hard to resist the temping bait, and many
were only too glad to secure for the child the prom-
ised comforts.

THE FEMALE ELEMENT.

357

They were little more than children, these girls,
3ay from twelve to sixteen, many of tliem, and they
knew as much of the world as kittens — as nmch of
what were their rights here in America, and oi' what
was morality throughout Ood's universe.

They used to stand at the open door, enameled,
bcdi/cned, and in gaudy apparel, to invite the passer-by;
but the municipality shui; tlic door, whereupon they
showed their faces at a wicket or window, proclaim-
in.; their presence by voice and taps when the police
wiir not too near. Within was a front room, relieved
Mcasioiuilly with flowers and drapery, occupied by
rViiiii two to six, or even more, women ; and behind
werr II immber of tiny rooms, or frail partitions with
I rou^h alcove bed provided witli a mat, ))ilh)W, and
i'hi)itz curtain ; a chair, perliaps a cu|»l)oard, with a
lamp, some chinaware, and tinsel comj)lt!ted the fur-
niture. Some brotliels supported on an up])er floor
boudoirs with rich furniture, where brilliant robes ami
perfumed air charmed the more fastidious ])atrons.
Chinamen did not usually consort with the class de-
voted to the Melican service, but visited a s})ecial set.

Celestials share fully in the general weakness of the
lower strata of mankind for holidays, and j)ossessing
no such blessed institution as the Sabbath, they have
supi>Ii(>d the deficiency by a series of festivals ; i honor
of deities, heroes, ancestors, stars, seasons, and ele-
ments, which (Mnbrace one third (tf tin year, and form
the movable feature in tin- AxcmI institutions of the
Flowery Kingdom. The otticial almanac gives due
notice of their approach, as well as of lucky and un-
lucky days, ch.'v .ii dress, regulati(»MS, and other
matters, \\)r no step of in)j)ortaiice may bi' undertaken
without consulting its rules. Not content with the
tbnnidable list of prescribed holidays, the priests ar-
ran'j;e celebrations from time to time with a view of
iiKtvasing the sale of prayers, incense, and candles, a
dchcnie for which they find a powerful ally in the

■»i,-

.,,..»

S63

MONCOLIANISM IN AMKRICA.

■n

populjir HUporstition. T.l'cre an- besides birtliday
foies, not only in lioiior of livinuj fricMuls, hut of de-
r(>uHe<l jincostors ; and stcanuT days on wliicli Ut frnvt
arrivals with news from home, or to take leave ofdc-
paiiinj^ frl«'iids who shall hear nicHsaijjes to the did
folk. llciH-c, any }K!rHon with the will niul the nicuiis
can always find an cxcuso for recreation ; hut since
this inclination is n<)t j>revalent ainoniLj our ( -liiiiesc,
owin<j; to the restless strife for the dear d«illar and
the restraint of our customs, only a few of the most
prominent festivals are «d)serve«i, and ijjenei-ally in a
(|uiet way, the rest being abandoned to the caic nf tin
tempK' assistants, who occasionally honor tin in hv
li<>;htin»jj a candle or two and hoistintx a Ha<j: ovt i the
edifice. It was found necessary to conform to a
ji;reat extent to our usages, and adopt Siuiday as the
day of rest, and for it have been reserved the various
functions of washing and mending, marketing and
promenading, visiting and gambling, A mnnher de-
v«>tt^ the day to reading and writing, and several huii-
dre«l attend our Sunday-schools. Laundrymen, min-
ers, and traders, are less yielding in this respdt,
except in so far as to indulge the appetiti' with a few
delicacies. This enjoyment occurs more paiticulaily
during their own fetes, and Ji sui-e indication of their
ap])roach is allorded by the demand on pork hut(li< rs
aud poultry dealers.

The Ni'W-Year festival overshadows all the ri st in
solonmity as well as fun, and none, however \h)OT,
busy, or friendless fail to celebrate. Families, Iniin-
(Iries. factories, and railroads are all left by servants
and eniploves to shift for themselves, mission seliools
are neglected, and outlying settlements, mining camps,
and ranclios, are abandoned, if possible, for the ct ii-
tral settlements, where a round of pleasure await.-
them for a week or more. WIkmi the thin'jf was pos-
hWAc. they ust>d to prefer a trip to the home c.uiitry,
to attend the family gathering, and witness the gnind
celebrations at the capital of the |>rovinces, whicii

THE NFAV YKAK.

369

ooiiiliiuo for tlirco \V(>uks, FFonro tlie Cliiiia stoainors
that left Sail Frarifisco durinuf tlic latter part of the
yi';ir wort! Well filleil with passe iiyjcrs.

The Chinese year begins with th»! first luiw moon
after the sun has entered vXipiarius, hetweea January
21st and I^V^bruary IDth. The year has twelve months,
wlii'h correspond to the moons, and aro designated as
tlie first, second, or third moon, as the case; may bo.
Tlii-^ 'jiives the year six months of twentv-niiu! davs,
ami SIN. of thirty days, leaving a surplus of days to be
('oinliined into an intercalary month, in order to
rc'4uIuto the year with the sun. The intercalation
takes place about once in three years, by doubling or
n'lte.iting one of the spring months. The years are
naiiied according to their position in the cy<'le of
sixty years, a com|)utation which began '2('ili7 years
B. C. They are also formed into epochs, each of
wliiili corresponds to the reign of an einpeior, a sys-
tem introduced ia i'^3 n. C. The year 1 870 would
I'ornspoiMl to the '^' \cnth of the seventv-sixth cycle,
and th(i ninth of the emperor's reigti.

Th(^ preparations for the festival are most elaborate.
House, body, and clothing undergo a giMieral cleans-
ing and renewal; useless or worn-out household arti-
clfs. elotlK'S, and I'ubbish are consigned to tiie bonfirt!
with pi't'sci'ilu'd c( reniouics, and a fresh supply pro-
cuird. Scrolls of joy-|)ortending red pajx'r are pasted
ovi !• (iitrances ami shrines, on walls and furniture,
bearing moral insiM'iptions, and talismanic mottoes,
esp.ci.dly the word/"/', happiue>s, and the fivt^ bless-
itigs of liealth, riches, long life, fiiends, and prosper-
ity, [f the past year has b^cn prosperous, the old
iiioltoi's are retained ; if not, others are seleeti'd in
tlie hope r)f pro[)itiating I'trtune or exorcising ill-luck.
KoMiiis, windows, and balconii s are liung with briglit
p.ipci', tinsel, bunting, and hinterns of slight baml>no
frames covered with tians[)arcnt paper, bearing fanci-
ful inscription and drawings of birds, floweis, and
other figures. For tiie amusement of the children

960

MON<;OLIANISM IN AMKKirA.

|!n:

I 'I

I ?

transparencies are attaelied so as to revolve l)y the
flow of the Jieatecl air. Natural antl artiHciul flowers
form a iJ^reat part of the decorations, particularly tlio
lily bulbs in white saucers, the emblem of puritv,
which it is sought to bring into bloom for this st asoii
of renovation. The fai^ades of restaurants and stniv.s
are gorgeous in the extreme, and generally rcpaiiiUd
for till' occasion.

The iierson nmst be thorouL'hly bathed even at tlic
risk of a cold, the head shaven, tlie queue rebraiih d,
and the richest attire procured that means will buy
or hire; for not only lias the season to be honond,
but family pride must be upheld, with respect fnr
superiors, to the confusion of rivals and the; awe of
inferiors. The inner man also participates in tlie
general clumgi*, and eschewing the frugal di«'t of rice
and tea the palat(> shall revel in the choicest viaiuls,
to which tlu; and)rosiai flavor of the idol's benedietien
has biMMi imi)arted.

No joy is unalloy>d, however. Bills nmst 1)0 p.'iiil,
and all accounts settled lu-fore the great day, and
this at a time wlien so man\ di-mands are madi' on tlie
purse. IVIerchanfs maki" preparations for the eiiui-
gency, and st«)ck-taking with balancing of books, is the
rule during the final month. Collectors are desiiah In ^i
e\en to the mo^t n-mote corner of the couiifiy,
and expressmen groan under the )>ressure of busiiii ~s.
A few persons who find themselves unal)!e io piy
their creditois, or to make satisfactory arrangt iiieii!.-v
will hide till the old y*ar has expired, for vlurinu tlic
New-Year's season there must be no intrusion ef
business. Of eours(\ there are disagreeable jhmsoiis
who will for'j;et L'(»od maimers and mortifv a deltier
b}- appearing at his door on New-Year's mom, with
lantern in hand to indicate that they are still enL,a'j,'eti
on the old-year ei-rand. But as a rule nothing Imt
good wishes and joy are manifi\sted at this season;
old rancor must lie buried and friendship reuewd;
friends may die by the sct)rc, yet no allusion Uiust be

CEIIKMONIKS AND CELKHUATION.

361

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made to anythinjj; which miglit cast a gloom over
the festivities — private sorrow may not intrude on
public' liappiiicss.

Not only temporal atluirs are .settled at this time,
but tradition has it that the gods alwo balance ac-
counts with men, and pass before the <'h)se of the
viiU' with tlieir statements into the presence of the
supt'i ine ruU.'r, the IV'arly Emperor, whence they re-
turn oil Ni'vv'-Vcar'sdayor shortly'" after. Itbdiooves
till' multitude therefore to look to their spiritual debts,
.so that, they may not be represented as defaulters,
and, truly, the temples an; crowded by old and young
of both sexes, bearing olferings of prayers, incense,
foot I, !i! id toys.

As the «'Vi!iitful midnight approaches, tin; people
bid farewell to the old year with prescribed i-ercmo-
iiiis, L''iving thanks for bb'ssings received; and then
the now year is ushered in with a toasn in wine.
Occiisioiial discharges of fire -crackers have betokened
the impending demonstration; the streets are filled
with peo|»le, windows teem with expectant faces bent
toward the rows of fireworks which, susju^ided on
[Mill s, protrude from windows and l)alconies, ready
i,ot only to greet the dawning y<'ar and to nmnifest
tlio general happiness, but to give a wholesome warn-
iii!j; to had spirits, to drive cH' the t'vil influence of a
jKist yoar, and to propitiate the gotls. No sooner has
the witching hour struck than a deafening explosion
.suecrrds, one h<»use opening the (ire and the nst follow-
ing 111 close succession, so as to allow no cessation of
the noise. It is like a rattling fusilade amid the
boom of caimon. The streets si'cm to be ablaze,
aiiii soon a dense; smoke settles on the neighborhood,
wliili' the ground Iteeonies nuitted with red and bmwn
r'lim.uits of iiveworks, Neighbors aj)pear to rival otit^
aiKtiiu-r in departing as mucli as possible frdni their
usual (juiet life, and in creatiiig tlu! longest and loudest
ui»ro,ir. If ordinary nuansof explosion do not etl'ect
Uiis, they discharge the bombs in barrels and tin cans.

■i

I w

If-

W'^

M0N<IOLJAM.SM ]X AMEllU'A.

Patriarclis vie with youuiuj.stdrs in pitcliing slrim^cd
exploHivca from roofs and l)alconi(S upon i]\r lujitls n\'
the scampering ilirong, or in firing a homb at t]ic fci t
of staid citizens and donmn^ matrons. Tlic <]iui;i( -
teristic economy appears to liav<' liecn discarded witli
the departing year, nnd wealtliy ostal)lishm(Hts • x-
|>end several liundred dollars on fireworks, hesidts
large amounts on decorations and for liospitalil\- dui'-
iiig the festival. The first morning of tlie ye;ir is
frauLjht witli tiio ''reatest din. hut cixplosions ar<' tVc
<i[Uent all through the week, if the ])olice pcn'mit ilniii,
and when they <'ease at intervals, tlie ear is assailed
by boo-'iing drums, clashing cyml)als, and sipieakiii!.'
fiddles, as if, as with us, enthusiasm wer«' measur<d ly
noise, and patriotism by burned pi»wfler.

In tlie early part of the morning e\ery liousdielil
assend)les in holiday attire to assist at religious .ser-
vice, directed by tiie head of the family. lleav<ii
and earth are first adored, then the various gods ef
wealth, war, iiearth, nu-rcy, and other departimm>
Ixifore wliom )fi^'erings of incense, candles, food, ami
toys arc placed, to ivmain for several davs. An(<>-
tral tablets, and senior members of the family aiv
;wJored with low prostrations, and all join inspreadiiHi
choi<^; viands .i*r tlie dej)arted, who are implored t"
grant their mediation and protection. The next duty
is to visit th(^t< 'nj)li '. whieli are constantly tilled with
a devout multitude of praise-gl\« cs and favor-seekeis.
adding their quota to the ' lass of olferings. Almost
every day during the firs*^ half of the month 1ms its
specified ceremonies, for difl'erent < lasses of society.
1'he pious set aside the gj-eater part of the fir-f d;iy
for worship, n^si-rving feasting and rioting foi' oiiur
days, but there are not many of our Chinese who
overburden themselves with devotion to ])e;iictul
deities, and since the rioting itscdf keeps oft" the li-iids
a.nd imps they feel safe in abandoning themseh • - t"
rcfvelry.

The early crowtl of merry-andrews, spectator^, .uxl

> M*

NK W ^■ EAU S ( EllEMON 1 ES.

•.w^

teniplt'-vlsitors is soon varied by a throng of silk-
decked callers, and of son'ants wlio rush to leave
ciinls of ('(»ML;ratulations on those friends of their
iiiasttis Avjio.sf inferiority of rank or aj^o obliu;es tlieni
to make the first call, "Kun;^]ii, kung hil" *• [ wish
Villi joy," or the phrase "ne\vjo\'. new joy; '^e-t rich,
oct rich!"' is on everhody's lips, in street or house.
To lliis is jidded a wish for in«-ivased prosjxrity, con-
tiiiU'd Jiealth, and other blessings ;ip[)r()priate to the
condition of the person addressed. 1\) merchants tin-
wisli is expressed that lie may strike good Itargains
ami make larije i)rofits : to oftieials, that thev may
adviince in rank M'ith increased pay; to old folks, that
tlu ir years may be numerous; to nuuried ]teople, tliat
ii SI HI niay come to them. When a visitor arrives,
tin linst advances towanl him m(»re or less, in aceord-
niici with his I'ank, each one grasps and shakes his
own hand jis lie bows, and then follows a series of the
many observances of etitpiette in gesture and lan-
'4uage with which these peo[)le are atilieted. Klegance
of (•oni|)liments and extreme* self-deprecation aie the
main propositions. If one inipiires, " How fares your
illustiious consort r' the other rejdies, "The mean oc-
<U|»ant i>f my miserabl(> hov(d isM'cll." The question,
•Isyoiu' noble son doing well T' solicits the answer
that "the contem[)tibIe <log is progn^ssing." Inferiors
liiiw tlieir deepest and droj> on one knoi'. while cliil-
(Jreii |)rosti'ate themselves and ]»ress the giound with
the head befor<' theii' pan-ntsand elders. Tlndiouse-
wif(\ if then* is one, aji[)ears at intervals to (dialh'nge
admiration with the minarets and wings whicli crest
hci' . lal)orate hair structure, while demi-.T(dms toddle
around in spangled cap and bright elotlu's, protected
hv amulets innumerable. Kverv callei- is exi)ecte(l to
im]>lore the pot-bellied idols for their blessing (»n the
house, and to honor the lavish liospitalitv bv tastinsj-
<M paste, fruit, or sweetmeat, si])ping a tiny cup of tea
"r li(|uor, and takitjg a cigarette, all of which stand
prepared on lacquered trays, l/wpioi-s and i-igars are

; i'l

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nil

864

MON(J<)LIAi\ISM IN' AMERICA.

chiefly rosurvcd for white cullers, who receive a pulitc
welcome, despite the well-known anti-coolie char.u ti r
of the niajt)rity of these thirsty souls. Canis ot'iicai
red i)aper, with stamped name, are exchan«;t<|^ ai„J
their number and class exhibited with considi ral)lo
pride, and even kept permanently on view. I'rest nts
of fancy articles, toys, and sweets are also customary.

At night the Chinese (puirter assumes a brilliant
aspect, with the rows of fanciful lanterns, the glitttr-
ing tinsel, and the windows ablaze with light. Tlio
streets are almost ileserted, but from the homes ((Hiic
the sounds of music, chat, and merriment, particulaily
from the restaurants. The great eflbrt is to crowd all
pos.sible amusement into this season. A holocaust nf
pigs and poultry, liquor and betel-nuts, opium and to-
bacco, tempt the j>alate and opj)ress tin; stoinacli.
cri'ate hilarity, and K'ad to ebullition. Theatres djuii
in the morning and kee[) the play going till past iiiid-
niiilit, with brief intervals for refreshments, while tlir
gambling-hells allow no rest whatever. The ileliriuiii
lasts a Week, and then conies the awakening, with
aching heails and empty pockets. The youngx'r iiK'in-
bersof the connnunity overconu; the weakness of the
fiesh with more natural diversion.

In the alleys may be witnessed the favorite game
of shuttle-cock, ))layed with an idastic ball, one inch
and a half in tliameti'r. made of dry, scaly fisliskiii,
weighted with a cop[>er coin, and set with a few
feathers three to four inches in length, to mxr it
poise. Thc> })layers form a circle and seek to kcrj>
the l)all from touching the ground, by batting it with
toe and knee; or sometinu's oidy with the soh' ot' tin
shoe, a movi'ment which requires a peculiar and ajjjilr
twist of the leg. Kite-Hying is also a ])o})ular aniiist-
ment, the kites representing the forms of l)irds, tishes.
and other creatures. Crowds »f boys may be stnii
njarching from house to house with a huge dragon ct
bamboo frame covered with cloth, borne aloft on sticks,
which are raised and lowered to impart motion to the

\:M'^

OIHKR FKSTIVALS.

866

monster. With this sacretl image thty offer to drive
out evil spirits from any locahty for a small coii-
hiicleration.

The next festival of note is the Feast of Ijantorns,
in lionor of the first full moon of the year, which is
extensively participated in, since it takes i)la(e in the
ovi'niiig. The houses are illuminated, within and
without, by fancifully colored lanterns, and a(l(»nird
with scrolls, and a procession parades the streets with
banners and lights, discharging fireworks and discours-
ing; celestial music. The moon is again the ohject of
iKloiation during the harvest festival : but since this
concerns chiefly the agricultural classes, it is not
closcily observed in California. There is a considera-
ble innnolation of pigs and fowls, however, on the
Kpicurcan altar, and out-door gatherings, with ])ian
wofshii) and stellar observations, which bring re\enue
to astrologers and butchers. The four seasons of tlic
equinox and solstice are observed with moresolenmity.
and a well-clad multitude throngs the temples with
oti'erings to propitiate the idols during these moment-
ous turning-points of nature.

Shoitly after the spring festival of tiie Feeding of
the Dead, described under burial, a temple celebration
tjjkes place. The abodes of the deities arc adorned
with the usual tinsel, streamers, and synd)olic banners,
and before the (d lief idol a roast pig is presented amid
bursting bombs and orchestral din. Mi'anwiiile a pro-
cos.sion is formed, and presently the van-guard ajipears,
bearing poles strung with fire-crackers which maintain
:\n ineessant rattling, eaidi pole being romounted with
ties]) explosives for a new fusilarle. wjiile tin- others
are taking their turn. ^lusieians follow with drums,
»vnd)als, and stringed instruments; tlien a band of
women with lanterns, leading a display of gigantic
animal figures, and carcasses of consecrated |>igs. the
ijrnes fi-om which allure a jaunty personage behind,
arrayed in rich and ancient costume, and attended l>y
a long retinue bearing end)roidered banners, fans,

441
1

^ i

nl'l

3U0

MONOOLIANI.SM IN AMKUll'A.

curious wcapoii.s, and flowers. Bchincl them inaicli
the representatives of various guilds, and last of all a
nuinlu'r of limits of ustoundiuij; make, who do not faii
to attract a crowd of admiriiij;' followers. Aft<r hold-
ing religious exercises before tlie temple an exhiLititHi
is given on consecrated ground. Bondjs are cxplorkd
containing small parachutes, and whosoever is ahli' h>

.'Secure one of these as they (k'scend is assureil of g I

fortune. There is (piite a crowd (»f asj)iiants. and
the struggle is awftd to heiiold : clotlies go to wnck,
physiognomies are ruined, yells rend tlie air. and
after all his exei'tions the victor may not gain
more than a tattered remnant as an evidence; of lii^

pl'0\V(>SS.

The chief attraction for the amusement-si.'ckers i.-
the drama, the taste ior which nmst be stronger than
with us, since a comnumity so poor and smallet)ni|i:ir
atively as the Chinese can sujjjjort two tlu-aters with a
large force of artiste "S devotetl almo.st wholly to what
may be termed legitin)ate drama. The drama is of
celestial origin, as may l)e exjtected, although tradition
has failed to shrouil it in the customary mist of an-
titjuity. Only souie eleven centuries ago, tku'ingacel-
ebration in honor of the moon, an imj)erial seivitor
became so fervent in his adoration, that he flung liis
staff as an offering tothe luminarv. But lo! the stall'
was transformed into a bridge, upon which the servitor
and his exalted master passed from our })lanet to tin'
jiale satillite. A garden and ])alace of wondrous
beauty opened before them, and beneath a ciniiannm
tree they saw a bevy of noble-looking women s< attd
on white birds which warbled the most dcKK ious
strains in resj^onse to still sweeter melody from un-
seen lips. On their return to earth, the imi)erial ( nin-
poscr was charged to reproduce the lunar nnisic and
this was performed liy '500 singing girls in dithyiani-
bic form, in the emperor's pear-orchard. Play-actors
are for this reason known also as the pear-orcliard
fraternity.

1 '

THE DRAMA.

:.07

The first of these celestial |)erft>nnaiK'es, which, lik
nijr Harcliaiialiaii chorus, have ;j;ra(hially ilevt;lopo(l
into i(»iiinntic (haiiui, was given in San Francisco at
tlir Ann lican theater, antl then in a hiiikling l>rou<^ht
t'loin China, which was erected on ])u))»>nt stn-et, near
(iioeii, ant! o|iened on tlie Ulkl of JJiceniher, 185:2.
Th'- int<'rior was ornamented with jtaintings, liiihtid
Itv twenty -two variegated lanterns, and fitted witli all
tlic ]iiira])lierna]ia in< klent to their ))lay-ae<iii'LC. Since
tliiii vari(»us Idealities serve»l for the di-ania till I8()8,
A\h(ii the first one of two theatres was ireeted on
Juckson street. The second rose in 1S77 in Wash-
iii'4liin street under the title of ]jook Jjun Foong, Ini-
juiiiil Show House. Both have a large troop of
actors, ^^ ho are ))rovided with hoard and lodging in
thi' i)uilding. The extt'rior presents the usual dingy
l)ii« k facade of the quarter, with a sini])le name sign
(.VI r the entrance. The ])assages heading to the inte-
rior are lined with stalls for the sale of fruit, sweet-
lixats, hetel-nuts, and other delicacies. The audito-
rium is ev(.'n more dingy and unpretentious than the
exterior, devoid of decorations, save a scroll here and
tli( re, and not even on a par with a travelling circus
for comfort. The ornamental lanterns have heen re-
jijaccd hy bare gas-fixtures. There are two divisions,
a jiit and a gallery, both fitted with rough, uncush-
ioiicd honches with back-rests, rising (»ne above the
otlier. The gallery extends on both sides, the whole
It iigth of the room, the extreme left of it being set
asi(K' for women, and the right fitted with three boxes,
C([ually comfortless. The i>ar(juette of the largest
theater, on Washington street, holds GOO persons, and
the gallery aeconnnodates two-thirds mori>. They
aro generally vvell filhxl, and present one sombre mass
of hiaek hats and dark blouses, without a relieving
streak, save where a visitor lifts his hat fora moment
to air his shining pate, or where some eomfort-loving
spectators have kicked off their shoes and planted
their feet against the backs of their neighbors.

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868

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

m .

The stage consists of an open raised platform, like
that of a lecture hall, without wings, shifting scenes,
drop-curtain, or stage machinery. In the rear are the
doors, closed by red curtains, the right to enter by,
the left for exit, both leading to the green-room, which
is also the property-room, although a part of tlie
parapiicrnalia and wardrobes is kept in big boxes on
the sid(! of the stage. By the side of these stand
some chairs and tables, which serve for scenery as
required, but are at other times used by the actors to
lounge upon while waiting for their cue. De])rlved
of the pleasing delusions of curtain and scenery, the
audience is obliged to rely on the imagination to cover
the glaring incongruities and supply the many defi-
ciencies. Change of dress is often made in full view
of the spectators ; a warrior will fall, undergo the ter-
lific death struggles, give the final throes, and rise the
next moment to join his chatting and smoking con-
freres on tlie side of the stage. Actors, and even
spectators, who are allowed on the stage, will cross to
and fro between the players, and perform other im-
proper acts during the most interesting part of the
drana. Scene-shifting is replaced by posting placards
giving notice that the scene is a city, farm, forest, or
interior of a building. To increase the effect, a box
or stool is added to represent a mountain or a liouse.
Occasionally an imaginary line is drawn in tlie air to
denote a wall, against which the actor will kick with
ludicrous earnestness. If tlie playwright wishes to
represent a man going into a house and slamming the
door in the face of another, the serving-man hands a
cliair to one actor, who walks across the stage and
plants it violently at the foot of another player, taking
ins stand beside it to intimate that he is now within
the house. To represent the crossing of a bridge, the
ends of a board are laid on two tables, which stand a
short distance apart ; an actor mounts with the aid of
a stool, crosses on the board, or imaginary bridsre,
from cue table to another, and thence steps to the

UPOX THE BOARDS.

fl(wr. A horsebaxik ride is pictured by mounting boy-
liko an imaginary steed, and applying an equally un-
substantial whip. Giants and otlier figures are
introduced with but little effort to deceive the audi-
oiu'O as to their composition. However crude and
«j;r()tosque such representations may appear to us, they
arc (luitc comme it faut to the children of the Flowery
Kingdom.

]v|ually different are their ideas of music. The
orchestra is placed in the background of the stage,
between the doors, and consists of four or six per-
fi)rin('is, who keep up an hicessant extempore jumble
of l)iingiiig, scraping, and piphig, as terrific as it is
uiii(iuc, varying from a plaintive wail to a warlike
clash as the play demands, and as the individual taste
of tlic musician may dictate. When the actor spouts
his i)art there appears to be no abatement of the noise,
but rather an effort to drown his words, which he re-
sists by shouting at the top of his voice. The more
excited the actor becomes, the more earnestly the
iiiusicians puff their cigarettes and strive to do justice
to the streiiiith of their arms and the material of their
instruments, without any other method apparently
than to break the musical bars, to blend all discord
into one, and to run riot generally. During certain
recitatives and arias the violin is allowed to predomi-
nate, and a melody is produced which would not be
unplcasing were it not for the jarring plaintivencss of
tlie tones, which reject the sensuous element, and are
devoid of graceful modulation. They possess an im-
perfect system of notation for melodies, but no knowl-
edi^ci of harmony and other important elements. The
musical and dramatic arts arc equally backward, and
have |)rol)ably made no advance for a millenary under
tiie sumptuary laws which hamper all development in
the orient. A retrogression may just as likely have
set in. for although musicians are raising themselves
to hinrh honors and imperial favor, our ears cannot
discover the charm and influence by which they do it,

Essays and Miscellany 24

BIIUBH

iiii I m
1 ',.t It

8W ■ !

m^- M ■■■(■,

370

MONGOLIAXISM IN AMERICA.

dis-

and on which their Great Sage has so loftih
coursed ; nor can we find any rehc of the skilful artists
spoken of by tradition, who, like Orpheus and Anipliion,
moved the very stones with their strains, and cnst a
spell upon the organic creation. The musical iiistiu-
ments are quite numerous, however, and each meiiild-
of the orchestra is required to manipulate several, at
one time or successively. The percussion instruments
which f(jrin the pieces de resistance, consist of a big
tomtom standing on its end, another, small and flat,
like a covered tambourine, a tambour, a goni>; sus-
pended by a cord, a small, sonorous mortar of wot id,
having the rounded upper side covered with skin, and
a tiny square sounding-board, fastened to the side of a
stick, all of which are beaten with drumsticks. There
are also the cymbal and castanet, the latter beiiiu a
heavy black piece of wood, some nine inches in lenotli,
which is held in the hand while the other piece, (oii-
nected with it by a cord at the top, is made to fall
against it. The stringed instruments embrace guitars
of several varieties, one being a flat, solid, pear-slia])ed
sounding-board, with a short neck, curved at the luad,
and l)earing four strings, which are fingered in pairs:
another kind has a smaller, circular board, with a long
neck and two strings. Some have bodies of snial',
flat tomtoms with long neck and one to three strings,
but with less frets than our guitars. They are usually
struck with a bone or flint. The violin is a small
heavy tambourine, with a long neck, upon which two
strings cross one another, holding between thcni, be-
low the crossing, the bowstring, which accordingly
touches one string on the upper the other on the lower
side. Wind instruments consist of trumpet, two con-
nected hautboys, like the Greek double flute, and
bamboo flutes, some with lateral blow-hole, and about
six finger-holes.

The play appears to be a mixture of melodrama,
farce, and circus performance, representing a train of
events or an epoch from ancient history, with love

THE PLAY.

871

incidents and battles, rendered in dialogue, recitative,
and pantomine. Modern events are not in favor with
this antiquated people. One drama continues for
weeks or even months, and is given in nightly install-
int'iits of a few scenes, or an act, like the serial in a
maL;azine, taking up the hero from the hour of his
birtli and giving his career as doughty warrior, or
pompous emperor, till he descends into the grave,
laden with glory. There is no condensation or rapid
dcvoloi)ment of plot, as in our modernized drama, but
every puerile triviality, obscene detail, and revolting
deed, is elaborately portrayed, and nothing is left to
tlie imagination except scenery and artistic effect.
Purely pantomimic passages are not frequent, for voice
and mimicry generally combine, the sharp falsetto
prodominating to a disagreeable extent, both in male
and female parts, mingled with screams and shouts.
At intervals a force of dignitaries, soldiers, and de-
pendents enter hi procession to display their rich
dresses of costly fabrics and embroidered dragons,
birds, flowers, and tracery in gold, silver, and silk of
all colors. The face is often enamelled, or smeared
with paint, especially for grotesque characters, and
wairiors strut in plumed helmet and fierce nmstache.
Women are excluded from the scenic boards, their
part Ixiing assumed by men who are trained from
childhood to the gait, manner, and voice, and deceive
even a close observer by their disguise. The fingers
are often tapered from infancy, and the feet confined
in small boots, or stilts are used when they act, the
foot of wliich resemble ladies' shoes.

Dancing is occasionally introduced by actors, but it
is not nmcli in vosxue, for Chinese reo-ard it as a vul-
garit}' and a fatiguing exercise, and leave it almost
entirely to the Tartars. In the early days of Cali-
fornia, the latter gave special exhibitions of the po-
etry of motion, wherein men and women appeared,
advancing and receding with an ambling gait, chang-
ing sides and bowing, but without joining hands.

372

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

During the course of the play a band of warriors
enters the scene, capering and frisking on iuiagliiarv
chargers, standing at times on one leg and whirliiiLj
around, at others dashing headlong forward. Sud-
denly the men tlirow one foot into the air, wheel
round and waft their prancing steeds into vacuum.
They then form in line and begin the onslauglit in
earnest, dealing spear-thrusts, sword-cuts, and blows,
with a rapidity tliat betokens long practice and extra-
ordinary skill. Combatants fall fast and thick during;
the action, but rise the next moment to restore tliu
vital spark with a cup of tea, and be ready for a sec-
ond extinction. Blood and thunder realizations are
evidently in favor among the timid celestials, and
probably not one of the original characters remains
alive at the end of the piece. After awhile the strug-
gle becomes hot, and the men strip to the waist.
Warriors pursue warriors ; high tables are cleared in
a bound, and the performers land on the bare floor,
falling heavily on the flat back or side with a sliook
as if every bone has been broken ; but ere the inex-
perienced visitor has time to make an exclamation,
the men are up, and pirouetting wilder than ever; per-
forming somersaults one over the other, spinning like
tops, wheeling on hands and feet, doing lofty tum-
bling, and concluding with extraordinary contortions —
all in confused medley, yet in eager rivalr}'^ to surpass
one another. This is the most interesting part of the
entertahiment to a stranger, who is apt to conclude
that the strongest dramatic jiower of the Chinese actor
lies in his feet. The imitative propensity of the jteo-
ple is not displayed to full advantage on the stage,
for although the mimicry is excellent at times, and
assists the tongue to render the acting more lively
and suggestive than with us, yet there is a lack of
soul, of expression, a failure to identif^'^ one's self with
the role, to merge the actor in the character. The
degraded position of actors has tended to oppose ad-
vancement in the histrionic art ; but another cause

RETURN OF SIT PING QUAI.

373

may be found in the undemonstrative nature of the
pruple. The incident depicted may be ever so excit-
iu;^; or ludicrous, the character ever so grotesque, yet
the audience manifests neither approval nor dissatis-
faction, beyond a quiet grin of delight, to which the
actor rcs[)onds with interest. Trivialities do not ap-
jitar to tire it, as they would us ; cruelty is witnessed
witliout a thrill, and obscenities pass as a matter of
course. All is not riveted attention, however, for
ulicn ears and eyes fail to convey the full measure of
interest, the other senses come to the rescue. Loud
talk is unconcernedly indulged in, and pipes, tea,
sweetmeats and the like, are generally discussed, as
if it were resolved to make the most of every nu)inent,
and let no pleasure escape.

Tlie play usually begins at seven in the evening
and continues till one or two in the morning;. Those
who come early pay twenty-five to fifty cents, at ten
o'clock half price is charged, and towards midnight
the price of entrance falls to a dime. The length of
tliu drama makes it almost impossible for even the
most devoted theatre-goer to follow the whole rendi-
tion, and submitting to the inevitable he is content to
catch a glimpse of a scene or an episode.

If you desire to witness one of these plays, and can
make up your mind to endure six hours a night for a
month or two, a mixture of the vilest stenches that
ever oflfended civilized nostrils — opium effluvium, to-
bacco-smoke, pig-pen putridity, and rancid asafoetida,
ste[) with me and seat yourself on any of those board
benclics. But first, and as a means of self-defence,
li,L;lit a cigar and smoke, for by so doing alone can you
clear a cubic foot of space about your head of its in-
tolerable odor.

The j)ortion of history played to-night is entitled,
"The Keturn of Sit Ping Quai." Many, many years
ago there lived in the Empire of the Sun a poor
young man named Sit Ping Quai, who had married a
young wife, likewise poor save in beauty and accom-

BUUIiiiiiiiiMai

374

MONGOLTANISM IN AMERICA.

plisliments. Her naino was Wong She. Sit PIikt
Quai was noble though poor, and Wong She liaj a
pure and faithful heart.

Happy were the days the gods granted thorn raoh
other's society. But hunger pressed heavily. Wonir
She faded. The color fled from her face afrrioliUd.
Sit Ping Quai could not endure the sight. He ji)iii((l
tlie army of the great emperor, determined to win
Wong Slie a happier lot or die. Rising rapidly lie
was made general, and sent at the head of a largo
army against the King of the East.

Sorrowful was the leave-taking and inconsolalilo
was poor Wong She; but Sit Ping Quai must depart.
Hastening hence he fought and won a great battle;
but by some mischance, separating from his army, he
was captured by the princess Linfa, only child and
heir to the King of the East. Linfa loved her cap-
tive, who durst not tell her he was wedded; for in
love the free find favor while enthralment makes its
victim uninteresting.

Tlie rich, the beautiful, the powerful, the suscepti-
ble Linfa caged her loved one in her castle, drove back
his army with great slaughter, and then wedded liliii.
Sit Ping Quai, though honest as married men go was
mortal ; and to tell the truth he began to lik(^ it.
With the dove-eyed Linfa to love him and minister to
his wants it was easy to forget poor Wong Slie. A
letter, however, brought by a messenger revived liis
former love and patriotism, and set his brain at work
devising means of escape.

Now none niiifht leave the Kinfjdom of the East
save by royal permission. Linfa, however, always
had in her possession a copy of the king's license, l»"t
how should Sit Ping Quai obtain possession of it ^ in
vain he begged it of her, first under one pretense anc!
then another; love was quick-witted and suspicious.
Finally he made her insensible with wine, and wliile
in that condition he seized the license and mountiiii;'
his horse rode rapidly away. The servants told their

■ii

THRILLING SCENES.

875

niistress, who roused herself and rushed after her
faithless sjDouse.

And now behold the flourish of the whip and spur
about tlic stage and the plunging of invisible chargers
as Linfa overtakes her lord and demands his destina-
tion. " I am only riding over the hills for pleasure,"
Sit Ping Quai replied, but meanwhile he gave his
words the lie by driving his spurs into his horse and
breaking away. But tlie princess was not to be baf-
fled. After him she rode fleeter than the wind, and
catcliing by the tail of his horse she held to it as only
a wife can hold to a renegade husband. At last he
was ol)ligcd to yield himself her j)risoner.

Then when all else failed he bejran to beg. Dis-
mounting he told her all his heart, told her tlie story
of his former life and love for Wong She, showed her
the letter, and begged, begged like a beaten jiusband.
Love and duty struggled in Linfa's bosom, and draw-
ing her sword she prayed her lord to liberate liersoul.
Then, sorry unto deatli, both fell flat on their backs
and mourned their sad lot.

Sit Ping Quai was first to revive. Starting up he
sprang upon his horse, promised faithfully to return,
and soon was out of sight. Then repented Linfa;
with womanly repentance she cursed herself for per-
mitting the recreant's escape. As quickly as she
could she followed him. Perceiving the princess
inossing upon him, he dashed across a bridge, that is to
say, the board resting on the two tables, and throwing
it down after him, he watched with much complacency
the princess tear her hair and rend her garments.
Then she throws herself from the table, falls full five
feet, and strikes upon her back with a force sufficient
to dislocate the joints and maim for life any white
princess in Christendom. Thus ends the first part of
the story of the Return of Sit Ping Quai.

The second part of the drama details the sorrows
of Wong She, who, left alone to grapple with penury
and mourn a husband dead, became reduced to need-

376

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

%■,

I "1

i .

ful extremities. The tidinus of her hero-lmsl)aii(]'s
capture and i)robal)lo clcatli strufk Wong Slie fiom
the high estate iu which her lord liad luft lur, ar-
rayed her ill widow's weeds, and tuned her voico to

niourning.

Secluding herself, and nursing her affliction, slio
refused to see her friends, and gave herself uj) to giict'.
Messengers wore dispatched to loarn his fate, but i'aih d
in their endeavor. Thus years rolled on ; s[iriiiv!;
flowers bloomed and withered, and autunni fruit
ripened and fell, and still Wong She mourned faith-
fully.

Saint-like and effulgent grew her bcautv under lier
great grief, so much so that the poor simple-niiiided
I)eople who saw her come and go in her daily search
for food well-nigh worshipped her as a being not of
earth. Many offers of marriage were made her, hut
she treated them all with scorn ; yet so straitened in
her condition was she that she was obliged to diii'
roots by the roadside to support life.

While thus engaged one day, a man of noble bear-
ing, but dressed like a courier, accosted her as he w as
passing by. Sit Ping Quai, through his unwonted
dress and bronzed, thick-boarded visage, was not rec-
ognized by her who loved him, though instantly he
knew Wong She. Scarcely could he refrain from
clasping her to his heart as she modestly drew back
from him, but as she did not know him, he thouglit
to practice a little upon her before he declared liiiiistlf.

First he represented himself as a messenger from
her captive husband, but when she demanded his cre-
dentials he could not give them to her. Then he de-
clared himself a rich nobleman, praised her beauty,
and offered her money, ail of which advances she re-
jected in disdain. Then he swore he knew her lius-
band, swore he was false to her, but when he pressed
her hand she threw dust into his eyes and flying to
her house shut herself in.

Half blinded, Sit Ping Quai followed and loudly

GAMULIXa.

877

|)r(K'liiinieJ himself througli tlio bolted door. Faith-
ful Wonj^ She thought this another subteifuge and
would not let him in. He protested, entreated,
stormed; all was of no avail. The insulted and en-
ra'j;id wife did not believe him to be her husband,
uutil at length he drew forth her letter to him and
threw it in at the lattice.

And now comes a scene eminently oriental. Wong
She had grown suspicious. This man had come to
lusr in the form of a fiend incarnate, in the sha[)o of a
libertine and a liar. This letter might be another de-
ce[)tion, a forgery. But, hea^eu be i)raiscd, she had
the moans at her command of testing it. In lands
crlostial letters are often written on linen or satin. I
jiavo said AVong She was poor; cloth she had none
suital>le on which to write to her lord. But there was
the tine inner garment she wore, relic of more opulent
(lays; and in her strait she cut from it a j)iece on
\\\\u:\\ to write to her husband. And now is she not
supposed to be within her own chamber? With be-
witching naivete the chaste Wong She — remember,
slie is a man — raises her skirts, and fits the returned
epistle to its former place. Heaven be praised, 'tis
tho vury samel This was indeed her husband. The
door was opened; husband and wife are reconciled,
and tlic entertainment ends.

Evidently the Chinese dramatist throws himself
upon the purc-mindedness of the audience, for ho
scruples at nothing that nature does not scruple at,
and the birth of a child, and like scenes, are of
common occurrence.

More attractive than the drama, and more absorb-
in;^ than any other vice, to the Chinese, is gambling,
in which probably not one of them fails to indulge to
some extent. Thousands economize and beu^rudyje
tlicmsclves even necessaries, in order to save where-
witli to pander to a passion which appears so opposed
to their usually prudent habits. They number proba-
bly more professional gamblers than any other nation,

878

MOXOOLIAXISM IN AMERICA.

I '

and despite the raids upon them in tliis country their
dens riourish in larj;e nund)ers.

In early days wliito folk were freely admitted, hut
as the gap widened between the races, Caucusiaus
came to be excluded as unruly and not to be trusted.
Under the allunng motto of Kiches and I'lenty, or
tlie Winning Hall, hung a signboard that the ^aiiio
was rumiing day and night. Within were fuiilm-
attractions in the shape of half a dozen malo aul
female musicians, who aided a richly dressed singer in
creating celestial symphony. Cigarettes were fnely
supplied, and a huge tea kettle, with tiny cups by its
side, stood pr(;pared to minister to the refreshment et"
victims, many of whom were the dupes of oracular
utterances of idols and fortune-tellers pretending to
reveal a lucky combination.

The former conunodious hells with several tahlis,
brilliant lights, and gaudy decorations, declined undr
the pressure of police and hoodlums into dingy gai rets,
hazy with smoke. Access was had, by Chinese only,
by means of a long passage, with perhaps a ricki ty
stairway and a second passage after that. At the
entrance, on the street, stood a dreamy-looking yrt
lynx-eyed sentinel, who on the least suspicion ef
danger pulled a hidden ord to warn the inniatt s.
In a twinkling one or more heavy plank doors widi
sturdy bars closed before the intruder, and ere llie
police could force their way to the den, the occu])ants
had disappeared through openings in the floor and
wall. They had little to fear, however, for tlio
weekly fees given to the police made it to their inter-
est to shield them, and raids were made only on ik-
linqucnts for the sake of appearance, since not Ameri-
cans only, but the six companies repeatedly urged tlie
restriction of a vice which creates so much niis( ly,
idleness, and crime. Beside the weekly fee of five
dollars to the special police of the quarter for inmiu-
nity and guard, the gambling and lottery estahlisli-
ments paid a large tax to one who raised himself to

A f ELESTIAL HELL.

379

tlid superlntcnclcnoy of their guild, and professed to
jirotcct them against raids by means of bribery, by
(lts[);it('hing informers, and by engaging counsel.
}[(• was said to receive $3000 a month, and to ac-
count for less than half of it, the remainder going to
swill the largo fortune which became his within a
few yi'ars.

Xiarly all the dens were devoted to the favorite
gaiiio of tan, or fan-tan^ meaning "funds spread out."
There was rarely more than one table in the room,
wliich was illuminated by a tong toy, a candlestick
sujiporting a bowl with oil, on the rim of which was
a scries of wicks. A wire frame was attached, li :ir-
iii;j; a paper shade, four inches in width. At the hf-ad
of the table sat the banker and croupier, wit?' a heap
of l)uttons before them, or more usually brc>M:^e coun-
ters, known !is dims, or cash, behig coins of about 1 i.e
size of a cent, but lighter, and only one t< ilh in
valu . A square hole in the centre, surroundetl by
Chinese characters, served for stringing them together
ill l)unches of 100 to 1000, for the convenience of
ti'ixlo in China. From the heap of cash the croupier
Separated a part at random, and covered them with a
bowl, whereupon the gamblers began to bet against
tlic l)ank by placing their money on a square mat
with marks and numbers on the centre of the table.
Tlio croupier then lifted the cup and counted the cash
deliltorately, raking them in fours to one side with a
stl( k slightly curved at the end. On the last four
counters, or the fraction thereof, depended the issue.
Tlio majority of the gamblers bet on their turning out
odd or even, while the others wasfer with smaller
rliancc on the final number l>cing one, two, three, or
four, wliereby they made larger winnings if successful.
The game seemed fair, yet the chances were greatly
in favor of the banks, since they were not only able
to pay heavy bribes to police and highbinders, but
orcw rich. It is hinted that in Ciinese gambling
when the bets are heavy on one side, the croupier is

;. ! ji

3S0

MONGOLIAXISM IN AMERICA.

able to make she counters odd or even as lie ))leases
by dropping one from his sleeve, or by other sleight
of hand. The fear t)f raids gave rise to a more iiino-
cent game, known as side, wherein four or five dice
were thrown in turn by diti'erent i)layers. They bet
on the larger result of certain throws, and settled
tlieir losses chieHy with drafts on Chinese banlurs
representing certain amounts.

Dominoes were in great fiivor, each player taking
six from the wll-mixed heap, after determining the
turn of playing by dice-throws. The first choice
placed the first domino, and then followed the usual
matcliing of pieces. Cards were narrow strips of
pasteboard about three inches long by three quarters
of an inch wide, marked with circles antl peculiar
hieroglyphics, and were not so easy to handle as ours.
Cash or counters were regarded as indispensable to
make the game interesting.

Lotteries were numerous, and conducted on diiler-
ent plans, with drawings as often as twice a day.
Agents for the sale of tickets were to be found at
almost evtjry Chinese cigar-store and laundry.

It nmst not be supposed that the Chinese in general
have been ready to a[)peal to our courts. Tlieir eea-
servative spirit, the antagonism of races, theij- nmi-
ac((uaintance with our language, and the strikiiii^
ditt'erence between our liberal institutions and tluii'
autocratic system, have held them back. Nor have
they felt inspired with the necessary confidence iu
our tribunals, on finding that their right to testify
against white ])er8ecutors was restricted, and on ob-
serving that law-makers united with law-dispeiis( rs
to falsify, distort, and evade the ends of justice.
Their only reiiu'dy was to ]>rotect themselves, and iu
this they merely followeil the example set them by
our own society, firsj by miners, and then by the
connnittei'S of vigilance.

The Chinese companies and guilds combine not only

■ii

TRIBUNALS OF JUSTICE.

381

the bonevolcnt, social, ami political phases of our own
nuiiierous societies and tratlcs-union, but also to some
(.xtvnt the military character of our guards, and the
judicial })ower of our pcipular tribunals. Their rules
piiscribe for the settlement of disputes, the holding
ot' courts, and the arrest of oflcnders, the levy of as-
stssinents to provide for rewards to captors, for law-
ycis' fees, and for bribes, the lending of wea])ons to
responsible members, and so on. They claim, of
course, that the system indicated is merely a persua-
sive arbitration, and that the parties whose case is
brouglit before the company may appeal to the Amer-
ican courts, to which heavy offenders are handed over,
hut the evidence is strongly against this plea. It is
rare for them to bring a case before our courts unless
tlie })olice have gained notice of the aft'air. We also
learn that they have secret tribunals and inquisitions
wliicli ovei'awe their whole connnuiiitv, and which are
comiiosed of the leading members of guilds and com-
panies, men who control coolies and manage the asso-
ciations with an iron hand.

It was not unusual to find posted on some street
corner, in the Chinese quarter, a notice on red ])aper,
suliscribed by a firm, ottering a reward, generally of
8.>i>() or $(500, for the murder of a designated person.
Such notices were produced before the congressional
coiuniittee in 1870, and witnesses testified that, in case
the assassin was arrested by Auiorican authorities, it
was understood he should be provided with good
counsel; if seiitenced to ]>rison, an extra recomju'nse
woultl be paid, and if doomed to death, tlie reward
wouhl be paid to his relativ(>s. These inducements
weic strong enough to prevail on any nundxT of men
to undertake the task, and the fate of the objcctiona-
lile person was regarded as sraletl. It was still more
connnon for associations to issue death-warrants to
tlieir own members, or to call directly upon assassii\s
and ai-range the deed. Although Chinamen as a rule
confine (juarrels to angry words and gesticulations,

HUMUll^MMMM

882

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

jftiii :•;,

;^'i!''v.

\w.

yet tliey have an extreme disregard for life when bent
on a pur[>ose.

The men usually charged to carry out the decrees
of the secret tribunals were known as Highbiiukis,
who form several associations in different parts of tlie
country, of varying strength, but all subject to the
rules of the guild. They were also called Hatoliet-
men from their most common weapon, a six inch
hatchet with a short notched handle. Many of them
were engaged at honest work, but ever ready to obey
the call of their leaders, who protected the interests of
women-venders, attended to the collection of debts, tlic
levy of blackmail, robbery, pillage, and nmrder. Their
weapons were pistols, hatchets, and daggers, the hmo-,
keen blade of the latter beiuLj sheathed in a laver of
cloth, by which the tell-tale blood might be at once
removed. The name of the chief company was Hip
Ye Tong, or Temple of United Justice, numlKring
some 300 desporadoes, whose chief revenue was de-
rived from a .^40 fee from every prostitute, besides
the regular tax and extraordinary assessments wliere-
with to bribe Christians, fee lawyers, spirit away wit-
nesses, and check interference generally.

Little attempt was made to suppress vice in China-
town, for that would have required an army of ])olice.
As it was, botli the Chinese and the police engaged
in the quarter submitted to circumstances, and the
latter acce})ted not only a regular pay from all classes,
but found it profitable, as well as safer, to receive
bribes from highbinders and others in return for non-
interference. Occasionally the American courts w ere
employed to assist at wreaking vengeance on obnox-
ious Chinamen, surrendered on some trum|)('(l-up
charge, and the crime fastened on them by means of
hireil witnesses.

The manner of administering the oath to Chinese
witnesses in American courts was to cut off the head
of a fowl, and as the blood dripped the witness wonld
swear to speak the truth, invoking upon himself a fate

ADMINISTERING THE OATH.

3S3

like tl)at of the bird in case lie spoke falsely. The
fowls thus consecrated to heaven could not l)e eaten
l»y Cliinanien, but were given to less scrupulous white
persons. A saucer was sometimes broken, or salt scat-
tiTt'd on the ground, with a similar invocation; or all
the three rites combined wore em[»loyed. Finding
tliat even the triple oath was disrgarded, the Confu-
cius formula, so called, was tried in 1861. A slip of
yollow paper with the oath inscribed in Chinese char-
acters, and signed by the witness, was set on fire.
Taking the slip in his left hand to waft the si)irit of
the oath to the gods, the witness raised his right arm
and repeated the oath, calling on heaven to crush him
ill case ho failed to speak the truth, and declaring
that in testimony of the promise made he offered the
hui'uiiig pai)er for the perusal of the im[)erial heaven.
A criminal was not uiifiequiuitly personated by an
innocent person for a pecuniary considerati»)n. Wit-
nesses were readily obtained to testify as desired. The
I'tstraint and seclusion of the prison offered little ter-
lor to him wlio had been used to the confinement of a
ci'owded workroom by day, and to the narrow space
(if a bunk at night; nor could its regime ])rove very
objectionable to the hard-worked coolie who subsisted
till a cup of tea and a bowl of rice. The proxy artifice
was onco exposed in the case of a prisoner who had
been sentenced to a tcnn of tliree years, and served
two. Owing to good behavior he gained promotion
ill the prison service, whereby he learned the art of
rooking, received good clothes, and eiiioved comforts
which ho would not otherwise have ex])ected. On
his release he found himself possessed of a fair knowl-
edge of English, and a good occupation, besides a sum
I'f money paid him by the real culprit.

X( )t withstand! iig the foul atmosphenM )fthei r quarter,
no epidemics can be traced to them. The death i-ate
there is sniallerthan in any other jiart of thecity; but they
have few children, which weakens the comparison. That

ili '^ :

'III

tij

Ifi

I i a

384

MONOOLIANrSM IN AMERICA.

the small-pox has been spread by their infected iniinl-
grants may be true ; but America suffered more from
this disease before the arrival of Chinese, as shown
by the records of the decimation among our Indians
on tliis coast and elsewhere. A physician, wIkj lias
resided a lonoj time in China, declares that inocula-
tion, which is a surer prophylactic than vaccinaticn,
is almost universally practised there; others (jualify
this statement by asserting that the inoculation is
faulty and has often spread the very disease it is in-
tended to check. There is no doubt that the steamers
from China liave frequently brought infected jiasscn-
gers, and tliat hidden sufferers have been uneaitlied
intlioChiiiese (]uarters. The prevalence of the sciirgc
is shown l)y the large number of pock-marked Cliina-
men. It was testified before the congressional com-
mittee in 1870 that of 800 passengers brought I)y a
Cliina steamer a few years before, 740 were found liy
the examining physicians to have had the disease at
some time, chiefly in a mild form.

A scourge much more feared, owing to its insidious
ap])rr^ach and effect on future generations, was syj)liilis,
which existed very generally amongst Clunese females,
who witli tlieir cheap allurements attracted silly hoys
and sowed in tlieir system the germ of this malignant
disorder, which may overwhelm a whole race. A
prominent physician testified that the large majority
of our youth afflicted with the taints, rect'ived it
from these women, and many is the life whi( h lias
been ruined thereby.

A third disease prevalent among them was lei>rosy.
There are several tlegrces of the malady, all incuiahle
and some very contagious, particularly if the \iins
happens to touch a delicate or sore part of the hody.
S(jme persons have been infected for years, witliont
being aware of it, till the taint was found in tlieir
offspring. The police could readily point out any
number of lepers in the Chinese quarter of ISmi
Francisco, in various stages of the disease, from tliJ

DISEASES AND llEMEDIES.

385

simpli' white or red si)ots, and swollen flesh, to the
1)1 iiL! luuqjs, dark ulcers, and putrified sores eating
awiiv the flesh and leaving sickening gaps. Few per-
S(»iis can endure the slitick to slight and feelinu's, or
venture to come hi contact with these unfortunates.
Ill an alley on Pacific street were two cellars wherein
Irui IS and incurables contrre<2;ated, were left to strui^ijle
for lift' as best they might, and die the death of a
dn^-. Contributions from visitors formed their chief
imaiis of subsistence. There were a few in the
Aiiuriean pest-house, eight of thirty-six Chinese
imnates in April, 1876, being lepers, the rest suffering
chieHy from syphilis. Tlie less afflicted were scattered
througli the quarter, and findhig no commiseration
anil »ng tlieircountrymen, they were driven to seek Chris-
tian charity, either by begging or by peddling tlieir
tainted cigars and matches under the cover of night.
In China they are dreaded as much as here, but are
iK'iniitted to wander around in bands to scatter terror
and extort tribute. Wherever Chinamen have innni-
;4iate(l leprosy appears to have developed. On the
Sandwich Islands the scourge carried ott' larixe num-
hers. The white race cannot be regarded as exempt
from the contagion, for English sailors liave several
times been stricken, and it has prevailed in Lombardy.
In view of our intimate relation with the race which
washes our clothes, manufactures our cigars, and cooks
our food, a certain degree of apprehension is justiflable.
In case of a slight indisposition the Chinaman is
content to seek that panacea for physical and mental
ills, the opium pipe; but if the sym}ttoms assume the
hast complication he hurries to seek more reliable
nostru! 1.. , and to judge by the quantity he consumes,
he is evidently not in favor of homoeo])athic doses,
even if that sj'stem is uidield in other respects. The
fust recourse is probably to Wah To, God of Health,
whom he approaches with offerings and propitiatory
rites, asking him to designate a remedy or a doctor.
The framer of the oracle has not been a whit less

Essays AND MiscKLi.ANY 25

>>!

mmk

386

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

r'^

zealous of the influence of his god than Pythia of
the Olympian deity, and gives only the vaguest of
answers, unless the bribes of some particular niciiilier
of the Esculapian fraternity have overcome the scrujiles
of the priest, and make him designate with greater
exactness who the healer is in whom the gods del i^l it.
When gods and god-keepers must have money for
their favors, we should have more charity for men.
The more prudent sufferer applies directly to one of
the 280 works containing the medical lore of the
celestial kingdom, with full description of herbs and
drugs, their property and mode of application, tlic
regime to be observed by patients, tjie influciiec of
natural and supernatural causes on different portions
of the body, and how to court or avoid them, tlic
internal structure of the body, and other useful
matters.

Despite the deep study given to medical art, its con-
dition is lamentably backward ; and although theories
on diseases and remedies are numerous and elaborate,
they are founded on a wrong basis, and their praetico
is pampered by the most absurd superstitl n. The
study of physiology and the art of dissecting are not
in vogue, and glands, nerves, ducts, the organs, the
circulation of the blood, and other features, arc tliere-
fore misunderstood or entirely unknown. It is taui^lit
that different parts of the body require distinct treat-
ment, and that the drugs destined for them are con-
ducted there with the aid of particular medicines, by
means of certain channels or cords. Tht; condition
of the body is determined by the state of the several
pulses, making, with their several forms of develop-
ments, twelve in all, which, again, are classed under
several heads. Some medicines are supposed to flrive
out diseases, others to coax them away; and if one
kind fails the other must be tried, according to the
indications of various natural and supernatural influ-
ences, behind which the doctor finds convenient refuii^c
in a dilemma. Similia similibus curantur is a favorite

CURATIVE CUSTOMS.

387

idtii; again, members and organs from a sound indi-
vidual and animal, or matter relating thereto, are pre-
scribed for those who are weak therein. Among the
curious remedies obtained from the human bodv^ are,
the placentae, ashes of nails pared from a [)regna!it
woman, woman's milk, plasters of hair cut fine, a liair
from a mustache, a bone from the forehead, and other
matter taken from felons or young children, whose
remains are not sacredly guarded I'ke those of re-
sprctable adults. From animals are taken such arti-
cit'S as the hoof of a white horse, bull's excrement,
tlir tip of deer horns, the hair of a cow's tail, dragon's
l)oiu.'S. The bulk of the medicines are obtained from
plants, however, many of them unknown to us. The
7 "/'/'( izai root, which runs deep into the earth, is
fn ijuently administered to guide to the lower extrem-
itirs such medicines as are destined to act there.

A famous prescription invented by a distinguished
individual reads as follows : Frankincense and myrrh,
one mace (one tenth of an ounce) each ; one dog's gall
dried in the sun; one carp's gall dried in tlie shade;
sal ammonia, two mace; striped frog's spittle, two
niaee; dog's bezoar, one mace; nmsk, one and a half
niaco; white cloves, forty-nhie berries; seven ccnti-
p((les dried and pulverized; beeswax, three mace;
black gold stone, one mace ; one gill of the milk of a
Woman after the birth of her first cliild, which must
be a boy; king fun (a stone), powdered, one mace;
hung wong (also a st(mc), one mace; quicksilver,
roasted and powdered till made white, three mace ;
to be mixed and made into pills, the size of the green
bean, and administered in doses of one pill for a child,
and three to five for an adult, in cases of chills and
fever, ulcers and swellings, and in violent attacks of
sickness. The patient nmst be put to bed and per-
spiration induced. The sick man who after all this
refuses to revive deserves to die.

Like all the prayers of man to his gods, like all the
appeals of man to the supernatural and unknowable,

^ijiMmmmm

S88

MONfJOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

t !

the more mysterious the virtues of these remedies,
the more inexpHcable tlieir effect, the greater tlu (k-
mand for them, and not a shipment of importance
leaves San Francisco for the interior of which tlay
do not form a considerable proportion. The}- are
mostly prepared at one of the dozen apothecary shops
in the Chinese quarter, where several men are con-
stantly employed to dry, peel, crush, distill, anil mix
from 500 to 1000 varieties of medicinal substuiu ts,
according to the prescriptions of the books, but Avitli-
out an attempt to form anything like a scientific (oni-
pound or extract, for chemistry is an unexplored fiiM
to the Chinese. Apothecaries may be found at any
large settlement under the suggestive names of Tlic
Hall of the Approved Medicines of every Land.
Great Life Hall, or Hall of the Hill with Two Peaks.
referring to a famous doctor of a past age. Tluiv is
humbug enough among our own medicine men, but
those of the Asiatics arc, if anything, worse.

The Chinese have an nifinite subdivision of branches
in all trades, including the medical profession, and
more reliance is placed in those who modestly pro-
claim themselves as specialists. Some among tluni
offer to cure certain diseases for a fixed sum, huludiiit,'
the cost of medicines. The intricacy of the biam h
requires deep study, and this in itself uidicatcs sutti-
cient learning to assure the practitioner of an honored
position among his countrymen. Political as wi 11 as
guild regulations have in China aided to check re-
searches tending to advance their art, and the profes-
sion is restricted to antiquated methods, with liea\ y
penalties for the bad results that may follow innova-
tions. Experience has, of course, led them to discover
many efficient methods, and they are quite expeit in
the treatment of simple ailments, but superstition
enters largely into all operations, even of res})e(tal)le
physicians. The condition of the patient is determined
by feeling the pulses for the different parts of the
body, under varying circumstances, a task which re-

SUPERSTITION IN MEDICINE.

389

(|uiros some time, despite the wonderful accuracy and
Hiuniess of touch of the experienced dc^ctor. The or-
«rans are also examined, and aided by the statement
of the patient, tlie diagnosis is formed and tlie remedy
pii'scribed with due regard for the state of tlie
wc iither, tlie moon, planets, and various other subtle
iiiid occult influences. (Jods good and evil nmst be
continually invoked and spirits exorcised to comfort tlie
sulK-rer. Wliile the examination progresses the doctor
(Iocs not fail to impress the patient witli his profound
knowledge of the disease and its treatment by recitins
the wonderful cures effected by him, as many of our
own doct(jrs do.

Counter-irritants, such as rubbing, pinching, pricking,
and applying caustics are much used, particularly by
l);irl)ers ; and the victim submits with unflinching
stolidity to the most severe tortures. Surgery is not
understood, for Chinese have a decided objection to
cutting or amputating ; hence they have few of our
numerous surgical instruments, and none of the ap-
imiiitus for the cure of deformities and khidred treat-
ments. In cases of broken limbs, simi)le bandages
and j)oultices are applied. Of most operations they
have peculiar ideas. For a female suicide from an
overdose of oi)ium a live kid was procured, into whose
throat an incision was made, and the warm blood
caught in a syringe and thrust down the throat of the
(load. She did not, like Lazarus, return to life.
( )bstetrics is left to women, whose chief fitness lies in
tact and experience.

Liberal in the use of drugs, the Chinaman is also
fi'eo in the employment of doctors ; and since diflercuit
jKirts of the body require difl'erent treatment, he will
often seek several doctors to prescribe in their respcc-
ti\ e departments ; and if the desired eflect is not ob-
tained, he is quite ready to bestow his confidence on
otluT healers who offer to cure all diseases, even those
unheard of, and whose sole claims to the profession
are the possession of a few medical books and a ready

I 7' n i<

890

MONOOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

in 'i\

wit for mummery, so soothing to the feelings of tlio
poor. At one time tliere was quite a mania jjiiKmcr
white women to test the skill of the mystic oriental.
Clairvoyants prescribe in accordance with the nvt la-
tions they receive in their visions. Another class of
men frequently consulted is students whose enthu-
siasm has led them to dip into Esculapian lore, and
being more disinterested than prefessionals, they en-
joy the confidence of the prudent.

The regulations of the Chinese companies provide
for the care of sick mend)ers ; the first regular hos-
pital established in San Francisco was the Chinese
asylum on Union street, for which the city granted a
lot. Two or three oilier hospitals were supportctl hy
the companies, whose sick members were there made
to work as long as they could move a limb. Tliese
establishments were situated in back-rooms and cellars
without furniture save a few thin mats, and where no
regard was paid to cleanliness and comfort, or even
to tlie sustenance of the helpless and often famishinL;'
patients. The charge at those places was extroniely
moderate, and even among those belonging to the veiy
lowest order, who were friendless and entirely desti-
tute, there was always room for the sick and dyiiiLi,- in
the out-of-the-way corners of Little China, where were
always found some neglected by all, lingering in filth
and misery. This was particularly the fate of the
women, who were less esteemed than men, and less
apt to have relatives here to care for them. It would
seem a good business for the boastful doctors, buyinLi;
sick women to cure and sell, but for the rule that if
they should prove obstinate, all flesh having some-
time to die, the funeral expenses must be borne by
the person at whose house the death takes place.
And if the body be not properly cared for by the un-
lucky landlord, the spirit returns to haunt the i)la( e.
Another sensible view taken was in their fatalism.
Of course every one knows what is to be will he;
and what the Chinaman knows he usually acts upon.

rRODir.ALITY IN DEATH.

S91

Si) wlien once iu tho thin waters of a niountaiti lake,
some fisheruiaii iiiiglit easily have saved a cliowniiio-
(oimade, and did u<jt, their maxim was proved tor-
rcct, for thus the fates had ordained.

The Chinese may be economical in thisi life, hut
they arc liberal enough in regard to the life to come.
And indeed it costs but little more to have many gods
and several souls, than one of each. After death the
body is laid on the floor to be more under the protec-
tive influence of earth, the universal mother ; and
while in this position the three spiritual and seven
jiiiiiiial souls are liberated, one of the spiritual souls
passing at once to the eternal judge, the second into
the ancestral tablet, and the third remaining to hover
round the tomb. The corpse is washed, dressed in its
best clothes, or in rich new garments, paper clothing
biiiig used by the poor, and placed in the coffin, to-
ofther with some rice, fruit, and tea by its side, and a
hmnic houcJic between the lips, whereupon it is covered
with a pall of white cloth, the mourning color. Cof-
fins, or "longevity boards," are made of the most dur-
al)k' material, generally rosewood and at times richly
mounted, In China ^.Aey often form a favorite pres-
ent with children and are placed in the ancestral room
as an assurance to the parents that their remains will
be properly cared for. Colored candles and incense-
sticks burn round the pall to light the soul on its
jouiiicy, and propitiate the inhabitpnts of the spirit
World to accord the new-comer a friendly reception.
A ( juantity of choice offerings is displayed beside the
coffin on several tables, guarded by two small figures,
mall' and female, which stand beside a miniature
mountain, covered with trees that bear red leaves and
silvered -paper fruit. Huge platters support whole
carcasses of pigs and sheep, grotesquely ornamented,
and Hanked by chickens and ducks in strangely dis-
toited shapes. Five kinds of the meat nmst be cot)ked
and five uncooked. Around these stand rows of choice
dishes in great variety, with cups of wine and tea, and

■.H:\',

f
ill

I :■!!

892

MONGOL! ANISM IN AMEUICA.

f I ■' •

11 J

pyramids of cakos and fruit, artistically prepared and
arrayed, and interspersed with flowers, ornaments, |)a.
per toys of all description, and make-believe moniiy to
pay the way in spirit-land.

While these preparations are going on, a priest ia
yellow robe with black stripes chants the ritual, with
several assistants dressed in simple white surplices,
tied at the waist, and with white strips round tin ir
heads. There is kneeling and bowing, gesticulation
and grieving, accompanied by shrill and clashini^ niu-
sic, and the explosion of fire-crackers, to keep away
the ever-watching imps of evil. Still louder rises the
wail of paid women, and well-simulated sobs, sonu-
tiines accompanied by the genuine article. Words of
lament over the irreparable loss sustained by surviv-
ing friends are spoken, and eulogies on the deceased,
in improvised or prescribed form "Alas! alas 1 why
was it not I that had died rather than be doomed to re-
main in the land of the living, an inheritor of trnuhio
and grief, while thou art removed. Thou, so talented
and wise; thou shouldst have been spared to become
an officer of the empire, even a pillar of the royal pal-
ace. In the parting our heart is torn; but we liopo
that after death thy soul has joy and peace, having
ascended to the heavenly palace, there to confer pros-
perity on thy children and grand-children." Wliitc
men are less selfish in this respect, being willing to
undergo the trials of earth a little longer and let
others die.

Neighbors flock in to respect and criticize the dis-
play for the dead, to whom thoy refer as having de-
parted, pas cd from this world, ascended to the sky;
yet with a tliis respect for the deceased they laugh
and talk un mcernedly among the mourners. They
know tliat neral faces, and sighs, and groans will
make no difft ence.

Soon the ■•. ailing is interrupted by the arrival of the
hearse, carriages, and wagons, and the procession starts
for the cemetery, attended by the imp-scaring music.

FUNERAL RITE.S. M

and the scatteriii*;; along tlie road of colored bits of
pa[)or with aquuro holes, representing money where-
with to huy the right of way from the spirits. In the
front carriages may be noticed the female mouners
in white robes and hoods. If the deceased was an old
or a prominent man, the pomp is proportionately
greater, and one or more young men are engaged to
walk behind the hearse, bare-footed and in coarse,
dirty, white garb, with the head deeply bent over a
cane, and 8U{)ported by a person on either side. They
represent sons of the dead, and their appearance is
eiiihli'matic of the sorrow caused by the bereavement.
If uiiibler acquaintances bring up the rear in wagons,
several of which are laden with the offerings. The
jirocession is received at the cemetery with a volley
of crackers, and the bo'^'y is placed before the grave,
surrounded with burning candles, and incense-sticks,
and [datforms set with the offerings. Incisions are
made in the meats for the spirits ; some rice is scattered,
and wine and tea poured out while every one present
hews profoundly and goes through certain pious gyra-
tions. The various toys consisting of tiny chests of
clothing, furniture, horses, servants, ornaments, all
made of paper — a flim.sy trick of celestial economy,
wliich goes so far as to pass forged checks on the help-
less spirits — together with tobacco, flowers, and cer-
tain clothing, are now burned and transniitted to
s^tirit land for the use and service of the departed,
amid a rattling discharge of crackers to speed tlie part-
ing soul of things. After several prayers and acts of
devotion, the body is deposited in the grave, and on
the mound is placed a board with an inscription, to-
gether with the remnants of candles and incense-sticks.
]\[ore tea and win^ are poured out, and rice scattered
for the benefit of other hoverinf souls, whereupon
tlio company return to town, bringing away the
food of which the spirits have inhaled the essence,
to serve for a riotous feast. It is even stated that
some of the pigs and fowls probably find their

iij

894

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

Ill

way back to the seller from whom they had been
borrowed.

Each of the six Chinese companies has a special
section at the cemetery, with an altar here and there
for ceremonies. The courtesans' graves have a .'sepa-
rate altar, with a tablet before which expensive
otl'eriiig.s are at times made, generally by kecpeis of
brothels, who by these ministrations to the dead hulj
their influence over the living. Having no desccml-
ants, these women cannot hope for greater post mortdii
care in China than here, and their bones are, tlieie-
foi'e, as a rule left to moulder in the foreign soil.

The belief that spirits have the same need for food,
clothes, shelter, and anmsements as the living, is
somewhat akin to the Christian's idea of earning here
glory an ' happiness for heaven ; and as they caniidt
rest in peace in a foreign land, the Chinese are ex-
tremely anxious to have their bones sent home, where
friends will provide for their wants in spirit-land,
either from love, or from fear that the neglected soul
may haunt them. In early days it was not unusual
to send home the whole body in a leaden eutliii,
but now it is rare to send anything more than the
bones. Rather more than half of the number who
have died on the coast liave so far had their remains
sent back. An account is kept of the time required
for the body to decompose. The grave is then opened.
the bones collected, scraped, di])ped in spirits and
water, well rubbed with a brush, without hiinj^
touched by the liand, and packed into as small a hox
as will hold them. This duty is performed by special
societies. In China the site for the grave nmst be
carefully selected by diviners, who usually choose Idll
sh)pcs facing a bend in a river, which is suj»po.sed to
bring good influences to the spot. All the hills round
the cities are dotted with tombs, wliich must on no
account be disturbed. There are also ancestral (« ni-
ples, where the tablets of the family or clan areereekd,
lights kept burning, and festivals held at certain in-

jeen

AFTER DEATH.

395

tervals. A substitute for these may be found at tlie
C()m[)any houses in San Francisco, where tlie names
of clccoased members are inscribed on an altar, illumi-
nated by a constantly burning light, and provided
with a table for offerings. At the home of the de-
ceased a tablet is also erected with his name, and per-
liajH with his image, bearing a panegyric phrase. If
tlu. ta,mily is wealthy, a niche or room is devoted to
(.l(3a(l members. Before these tablets the descendants
bend in adoration, keep the lamp burning to light the
path of the spirits and to honor them, and make fre-
quent offerings of food and toys Lengthy eulogies
an} suspended in the bereaved home for forty-nine
da\s after death, wherein the spirit is implored to
leave his blessing.

On the fourteenth day after the funeral, on every
tliirtioth day thereafter, and on the aimiversary of the
death, prescribed mourning ceremc^nics, with offerings,
are observed. On the fourteenth day the mourners
repair with temple assistants to the grave, where food
is presented and paper offerings are burned, attended
by the pretty conceit of liberating four song-birds, to
speed the soul of the offerings and cheer the spirit
with their warbling. The iuoon-eyed priest rings a
b.'ll, nmtters an incantation amid responsive groans
from the assemblage, which thereupon marches round
the grave, the priest leading with his bell.

l^irents are most deeply lamented and cared for,
ami honored by the children with a three years'
mouraing in white or sla-te-colored clothes, with collar
and wliite cord in the queue. Other members of the
family receive much less attention, and young women
and infants are scarcely accorded a thought after the
111' 'igre funeral rites have been rendered.

I'ilial devotion is manifested by the prominence
j.meii to the Festival of the Tombs, or the Feeding
of tlie Dead, also called Tsing Ming, the Pure and
Pu^splendent Festival, which takes place usually in
tiie end of March, and forms, next to New Year, the

■} i

I'f

896 MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

most saored celebration in the Chinese calendar. All
who can by any possibility suspend work do so, and
abandon the abode of the living for the precincts of
the dead, to worship the ancestral manes who on tliis
day are released from the world of spirits that they
may mingle with their descendants on earth. In a
continuous throng they proceed to the cemeteries
with baskets full of delicacies which they share with
the hovering souls, giving them the essence while re-
serving for themselves the substance. The smoke of
burning incense-sticks and tapers, lighted from the
consecrated temple fire, curls upward in fantastic fig-
ures, and rises jointly with the prayers of the devout
and the fragrance from flower-decked graves to lioiior
and appease both gods and spirits. A clod of earth
is added to the mound, and a paper affixed to roni-
memorate the visit. A second feeding of the (lead
takes place about August, at which spirits having no
living kindred receive special attention. They, as well
as other neglected souls, are otherwise under tlu^ pro-
tective care of Kwan Yin, the goddess of mercy.
Food and presents are displayed at the windows and
balconies, or hung on lines across the street, and left
at tlie graves, so that the roaming phantoms may
feast and be merry. A procession adds lustre to the
festival with music, banners, and idols. Prominent
among the latter may be seen the ten-foot-high image
of Kwan Yin. bristling with armor from head to foot,
and looking like anything else than a goddess of mercy ;
but the hungry spirits are apt to quarrel over the
feast, and to keep them in check it is necessary for
her to assume this fierce guise. When the offerings
are burned, the image ascends the pyre also, and the
stern warrior passes again into the form of tlie gentle
spirit which superintends the distribution of the gifts
that are to last the hungry souls till the next festival.
After the lapse of from three to seven years, a I'ul)-
lic ceremony, called the Universal Rescue, is held fi»r
a week for the benefit of all spirits not yet released

THE SPIRIT WORLD.

897

from earthly bonds, and notice of this is sent to them
by burning n'.cssages on yellow paper. Altars and
rooms are purified, incense burned, and propitiatory
(ifl'oi'ings made, amid the chant of priests and the
clash of music. On concluding, the priest Ijurns paper
images of certain idols, the names of interested spirits,
and certain records.

The imperturbable disposition of the Chinese admits
little or none of the spiritual exaltation or sectarian
fanaticism so prevalent among other nations. Their
religion is rather a teaching and a formalism than a
faitli and divine bond. They have a trinity, but it is
one of systems, moral, metaphysical; and materialistic,
re[)resented by the doctrines of Confucius, Lao-tze,
and Buddha respectively, which exist commingled and
coordinate without rivalry. Although every |)crson
is allowed to give prcmiinence to the cult chosen by
Lis inclination, yel few have adopted any one system
exclusively, while all combine in the observance of
certain features, such as the worship of heaven and
earth, particularly at New Year, of the kitchen god,
whoso only temple is the shrine in the household cor-
ner, and especially of ancestry, which may in one
sense be regarded as the basis of the combined S3S-
tcms, since the gods and genii are nearly all apothe'o-
sized rulers, heroes, and men who have earned popular
gratitude and esteem.

Confucius, or Kong-fu-tze, is, however, the control-
lin^;' [)()wer in Chinadom. All its social and political
institutions are founded on his teachings, which are
iiU'iitical with the" main principles of the leading reli-
gions of the world; and his simple, practical code of
ethics is the officially recognized guide of every China-
man, for Kong the Teacher, as the name signifies,
taiiglit and practiced a moral philosophy combined
^vith a mystic cosmogony which avoids all inquiry
into theologic dogmas, and commits itself to no creed,
except in promoting ancestral worship. Yet he be-

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

J I'

lieved in omens and advocated divination, and numer-
ous stories are told of his superstitions and eccentric
habits. No images desecrate liis temples, but a })]aiii
tablet fiices the worshipper, with the simple yet grand
inscription. The Great and Holy Sage.

Contemporary with the youth of Confucius was
Lao-tzo, the founder of the Taouists, or Rationalists,
born in the j^ear 604 B. C, whose transcendentalism
proved too abstruse for the masses, and forced the in-
troduction of many superstitions until the system be-
came transformed into a gross, confused, spiritualistic
idolatry, largely mixed with Sabianism, and suited
rather for the ignorant. Many traditions are cui-rent
regarding Lao-tze, depicting him as a pantheistic es-
sence, a spirit who assumed the forms of deities, hinirs,
and teachers, and at one time descended from heaven
on a sunbeam, fell into the mouth of a virgin, and
after eighty-one years' gestation, was born in the form
of an old, white-headed man, whence his name, wliirh
signifies Old Boy. Himself too exalted to be the
immediate object of worship, prominence is assigned
to the medicine god, the dragon, and a host of other
euphemistic gods and genii presiding over inferior de-
partments. The system concerns itself less witli prepa-
rations for a future life than with the requirements of
the present, and its temples, idols, and worship are
therefore insignificant compared with those of the
Buddhist.

Buddhism with its meditation, its practice of viitue
and self-abnoo-ation, its belief in a final ideal uiieon-
sciousness, a Nirvana, might never have become es-
tablished in China but for the leaven of superstitious
rites and beliefs, partly the remnants of a ft)nncr
national religion, which was added to suit the popular
taste. In this corrupted form it filled a void in the
yearning spirit of tlie celestials, and spreading raj)idly
from the time of its introduction in the beginning ot
tlie Christian era, it became tolerated, and even gen-
erally accepted, despite the persecution of alternate

THE CHINAMAN'S RELIGION.

399

rulers and the sneers of the learned at the incongruous
idolatry wherein the masses had engulfed both this
and the Taouistic religion.

Materialistic in his tendencies, and devoid of rev-
erence, the Chinaman is prone to neglect the superior
deities, to whom his mind cannot so readily be lifted,
wlio, absorbed in their grandeur, concern themselves
little with insignificant humanity, and wlio will not
];aini him, since they are the embodiment of goodness
and mercy. But yielding to his fear, he cringes be-
fore the minor gods and spirits who may injure him,
and with whom he has filled every earthly object.
Nature is to him a sealed book, and having nothing
wlierewith to replace these childish fancies, phenomena
and incidents appear but as the sport of imps and
dt.it ies. The more wonderful and inexplicable their
manifestation, the more readily he yields them wor-
ship. It is by offering the means to avert or control
tlu! ever-threatening prodigies that Taouism has man-
aged to sustain itself, despite the encroachments of
liuddhist ideas. Belief influences the Chinaman less
tlian fatalistic adherence to custom, and thus we find
even the superior mind bending to the hievitable, and
ao(('[)ting not so much the gross superstitions as the
liii^licr principles and the hopeful prospect of a future,
painted by the Taouist in the existence of genii, and
by tlie Buddhist follower in a more ideal absorption.
Confucius also speaks in his book of heaven, but the
refirences are too vague for definition, and many
scIk lars give them a pantheistic significance, which
appears supported by the worship of heaven and earth,
evidently as a dual, all-pervading essence. Others
reeognize in these phrases the acknowledgment of a
supreme being. The worship of heaven is regarded
as pertaining rather to the superior dignity of the
emperor, as the son of heaven, and as ruler not only
of men but of spirits ; as the embodiment of universal
will, actino; on individual and inexorable destinv, and
as the unified spirit of the familv, which is the state,

400

MONGOUANISM IN AMERICA.

wherein patriotism takes the form of family piety aiid
ancestral worship.

The future existence o^ the soul depends upon the
purity of its mundane career, or rather, it would seem.
upon the amount of incense and offerings wherew itli
the gods have been propitiated. It is believed that
the jjoosah^ the minor gods of various departments,
keep account of the actions of men, and pass animally,
at the close of the year, to report to the su^jreme
ruler. The god of the hearth is even supposed to
render a monthly balance sheet, and the divinity occu-
pying the cynosura to take account thereof, and
shorten the thread of life in proportion to the deficit
The three spiritual and seven animal souls of the body
represent the male and female principles respectively
of the dual power of nature. What becomes of the
animal spirits or senses is not defined, but of the male
principle, or souls of reason, one remains t^ the body,
the second enters the ancestral tablet, and the tliiid
speeds to the other world to be arraigned before the
ten judgment gods. His good and evil deeds — as
represented by the bribed divinities below — appear as
defenders and accusers, and sentence is passed in ac-
cordance, condemning him to a higher or lower form
of existence, to the sphere of gods and genii, or to the
circle of suflfering wretches and abhorred beasts.
There is generally a probationary gradation to either
destiny, but he may attain bliss or misery at once.
The punishment accords with the crime; gluttons
may be plunged into lakes of blood and filth, or
changed to starving wolves; liars have the tongue
pierced with scorching pincers ; and the most wieked
are cast into burnina" furnaces. There are many in-
congruitics in the S3'stem, and to account for the mul-
titude of hovering spirits is a puzzle even to the priests ;
they may belong to beings who have not yet been
assigned forms wherein to be reborn. Whether the
souls become gods and genii or not, th^^ still continue
to crave for the same wants as the living, apparently

TEMPLES IX REMOTE LANDS,

401

unable to help themselves to anything that is not
specially offered to them. When the offerings are
buriK'd, and the soul of things despatched to them by
loving friends, their attention must be called to the
coiisignnient. The custom of offering food and other
1^1 fts to the ancestral tablet and at the grave indicates
t itlur that the spirits inhabiting these places have
separate wants, or that they connnunicate with the
s »ul ill the spirit world, who is allowed to mingle with
his living friends only on certain occasions, during the
festivals to the dead.

There was quite a number of temples in tlie Chi-
uoso quarter. Five of the six companies had one
each, and several of the guilds had others, which as a
rule occupied a room in tiie upper story of their build-
ings. They owed their existence to small subscriptions
from the members of the associations, who were glad
ti) contribute a dollar or two for the privilege of hav-
ing their names inscribed on the registers posted
round the temple walls ; but the piety of liberal pa-
trons was also evident, and speculators were not
wanting to invest money in a scheme which promised
good returns. Many years ago, when the region be-
yond Union square, in San Francisco, was yet a mass
of sand and brush, an enterprising celestial resolved
to stimulate individual piety to aid him in making an
investment of this kind, whereby he might live at
ease and grow wealthy by the sale of prayers and
oandles. The corner of Post and Mason streets was
tho site chosen for the divine abode, and there it rose,
facing tlio rising sun, though hidden from eyes pro-
fane by a high board fence. The initiated recoijnized
the ])la(!e by tho Chinese characters over the gate,
which announced that the Imperial Heaven spreads
out to these remote lands, which were indeed de-
pendencies of the Flowery Kingdom. Nevertheless,
tlie intrusion of barbarians compelled the removal of
this divine advance post, and it was left to other
speculators to rear the monuments of devout enter-

£ssAYiJAND Miscellany 20

MUllWiliHlll

402

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

prise within the precincts of their quarter. There was
nothing grand or awe-inspiring about these edifices ;
quite the reverse. A few were situated on the niai!i
streets, with tolerably decent approaches, but the
rest must be sought in a labyrinth of noisome alleys,
as if to illustrate the apothegm that it is not a bioad
pleasant path which leadetli to heaven.

The most extensive temple, with the largest con-
stellation of divinities, was in a narrow passage con-
necting with Dupont and Jackson streets, and pre-
senting a most uninviting aspect of greasy, smoky
walls and shaky superstructures, with odors ])utling
from every door and window. Tearing himself loose
from the importunities of a fortune-teUcr, and a series
of bedizened females who blockaded the approaches,
the visitor reached a dingy brick building, the two
lower stories of which were occupied as works! lojis
and dwellings. Ascending an outside stairway of tlio
most rickety description, he came to the third and
highest floor, where dwelt the gods in gloomy sol-
emnity, and in an atmosphere laden with odors of
sandal- wood, smoke, and incense. If cleanliness is
akin to godliness then assuredly Satan reigns in
pagandom. The only notification of the sacred prox-
imity was afforded by a small gilt sign over the en-
trance. Just inside stood a huge plain screen with
inscriptions to exclude tlie intrusive glare of daylight,
and before it hung a three-foot wide tablet, witli
gilded figures of men, animals, foliage, and pagodas,
in high and demi-relief, depicting incidents from the
lives of the gods. The right-hand corner throned an
idol in a rather flimsy slirine, surrounded by a few
scroll decorations, and with a case of extinguissliod in-
cense tapers before him. This position is often as-
signed to Thnig Wong, god of the wall and moat, or
lord of the province, whose image rises in every
town in China, to defend it from enemies, and to pro-
mote its welfare, to control the spirits of the dead, and
to regulate the rains. In time of drouth, the image

GODS AND THEIR DUTIES.

408

is exposed to the scorcliip<.; sun, that it may feel the
heat and observe the neglect it has been guilty of.
To aid the god in retrieving his error, food is cast in-
to tlic rivers to feed the waters and appease their
spirits.

In the opposite comer, to the left of the entrance,
stood a platform, seven feet high, resembling an office-
stool, which supported a tomtom, and beneath it a
bell of bronze, both serving to rouse the gods when
s})ecial appeals or offerings were made. Behind this
Ava.s a brick oven, wherein were burned the toy pres-
ents for gods and spirits, releasing their souls from
the earthly substance that they might pass to spirit
laud and serve its mhabitants. A small dust-cov-
ered skylight allowed a dim light to penetrate into
the temple, and revealed in the center of it a cabinet
of dark wood, three feet and a half in heicrht and four
feet in length, with an elaborately carved front, pro-
tected by glass and wire, and representing figures like
those on the tablet by the entrance, but finer and on
a larger scale. Upon the cabinet stood a dozen neatly
moulded vases of zinc, or pewter, and brass, holding
boU(jucts of artificial flowers mingled with tinsel and
dolls, and candlesticks in the form of carved and col-
(»rcd tubes, all guarded by p dragon of bulldog as-
pect. Dragons also occupy a prominent position in
the Taouist worship as rulers over seas, rivers, and
pouds, and are, therefore, appealed to in rainless sea-
sous. Immedia-tely beyond this cabinet, stood an-
other of plainer construction, with similar vases, a few
tiny images, and a bronze bowl nearly filled with
ashes, wherein was stuck a number of burnt sticks
which had once supported colored candles and incense
tapers. The tapers were made of sandal wood rolled
in )>aper. The walls were covered with a bountiful
spi lidding of long, narrow tablets and gay-looking red
and yellow paper scrolls, occasionally set with cotton
strips and fringes, and all inscribed in characters of
scarlet, blue, and gold, forming panegyrics on the gods?,

404

MOXr.OLIANISM IN AMERICA.

and with prayers for worshippers, and lists of sub-
scribers, with the amounts donated for the erection
and maintenance of the temple. A few lanterns of
glass and of paper, with an oil lamp chandilicr,
adorned the center of the room, but were lit only on
festive occasions. Above the second cabinet rose a
false arch of scroll and fret-work, with gilt and col-
ored surfaces, forming an alcove of the inner do] Kirt-
ment, and bearing the inscription Shing Ti Ling Toi,
spiritual gallery of the all-powerful gods. Bcliind
this was a silken strip with the words Shing Shan
Mo Keung, gods whose holy age is perpetual.

In the recess of the alcove were three cabinets sur-
mounted by elaborate frames of scroll work and
arabesque, gilt and colored, over which hung red
canopies, drawn back and knotted. These were the
shrines, guarded by sitting dragons. In the central
shrine, which was larger and finer than the rest,
three idols were enthroned with sceptres and otlicr
insignia in their hands. Heavy, black mustaches and
imperials ornamented their faces, and long, red veils fell
from their heads to either side. Above their heads
were symbolic characters, representing their attributes,
and before and around them was a profusion of
ornaments of artificial flowers, brass, and tinsel. The
central and larger idol was Quong Muh Tien Wang,
the clear-eyed heaven king, trampling on snakes and
reptiles, who with the aid of his two companions pro-
tected the people from ills. This central place was
often given to Yum Ten Tin, god of the sombre
heaven, who also guards against conflagrations. At
his feet stood several cups with cold tea to prevent
the pangs of thirst from ruffling the divine temper,
and by their side a bronze bowl with the stumps
of tapers, one of which was still smouldering and
oflering its incense to the august nostrils. Above
this hung a lantern of figured glass, set in a black
frame, wherein burned the vestal fire which cast a
perpetual although dim light on the path of the gods.

ONE OF HIE ONLY TRUE RELKIIONS.

406

Before the other idols Imng simple glasses with oil,
not always lighted, however, and equally neglected
wtro their incense bowls.

Ill the shrine to the right sat the god of wealth,
Tsoi Pah Shing Kwun, grasphig a bar of gold, which
attiaoted the frequent invocations of his lucre-loving
[XM)plo ; and to the left was Wah To, the god of niodi-
ciiie, with a pill between his eight fingers. He flour-
ished two millenaries ago as a great scholar, possessed
of woiidcrous healing power, which, he exercised
ainoiig the poor. Having on one occasion adminis-
Uivd a wrong medicine with fatal results, Wah To
bwame so stricken with grief that he disposed of his
worldly affairs and followed his patient, only to be
raised to godship, and be forever pestered Avith appeals
for tlie preservation of health and the cure of diseases.
His ivrescriptions were obtained by means of the
(Hvining slips to be found in an urn on one of the
tahles, the characters of which were explained by the
teiiiitje servants with the aid of the mystery books ;
and they also sold medicines prepared according to
tlie recipes therein. Pin Tseuh is the name of
aiiotlier deified physician.

Kanged along the wall between the arch and the
slirinos were the eight precious emblems, in duplicate,
one sot on either side of the room, mounted on poles
and having the appearance of imperial insignia. By
their fide were a few shabby standards and baimerets
of silk, with gold and colored embroidery. Several
plain deal tables were placed here and there to receive
nH'eriiigs, but were seldom used except at festivals.

Passing through a side door to the right, the visitor
piitered a second room, more scantily furnished than
tl\o preceding. A few scrolls of paper and cotton
adorned the walls here and there ; two dark paper
lanterns huncj from the ceiling ; and on the floor
stood a plain cabinet with zinc vases for candlesticks
and bouquets, and a few common deal tables for pro-
spective offerings. This chamber was consecrated to

406

•MONCOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

Kwan Yin, tlie fjoddess of mercy, a princess wlinse
origin is lost in the mist of antiquity, but of wlioiii
tnulition relates that her opposition to a marriiigc,
arranjred by the king, her father, so enraged him that
lie ordered the Buddhist convent whither she liad
fled to be set on fire. Her prayers turned aside tin;
flames from herself and companions, and they esciijH'd,
while all around them crumbled into ashes. Tlijs
miracle caused her to be adored under the title of
Savior from Distress. She is generally represented as
a maiden, seated in a lotus flower, the emhh in of
purity, with a roll of prayers in her hands, round her
head a halo, and over it a cloud with a flying parrot
which holds a rosary in its beak. Sheets wero sold
at the temple bearing this representation of tiu;
goddess, together with several prayers, an extract from
which read as follows: "Revolving, shining goddess,
goddess of repeating goodness, great heavenly king,
Ah Nan, goddess of the well-ordered palace, nio yau
mo yau, tsingtsing, pi yau ; cause litigations to be
quieted, and deliver us from all courts and judirial
business. All ye great gods, all ye five hundred dis-
tinguished disciples of Buddha, save me a true be-
liever, and deliver me from distress and trouble;
then will I make mention of Kwan Shi Yin ; without
laying aside the ceremonial cap, diligently will I re-
hearse this formula a thousand times, and then of
necessity calamities and troubles will be dissipated."
Another of the forms assigned to this p-odd( ss is
that of a mother dressed hi white and holding a clnld
in her arms. To her .ippeal the young wives who de-
.sire issue. She also appears in the garb of a fishniaid,
as the patroness of fishermen; or in the form of a
monster with four faces and eight arms, significant of
her protean attributes. Twenty days a year are set
aside for her worship, and her festivals occur on the
1 8th day of the second and sixth months. On all
souls' day she is borne in procession in the guise of a
gigantic and fierce warrior, to keep order amon

o- the

POVEl TY STRICKEN DEITIES.

407

liunjj;ry spirits. Despite the prominence of her divin-
ity, the shrine was not carefully tended, foraconnnon
oil lump j^liiniiiered feebly on nothing but cold tea, and
extinguished the incense tapers at her feet. On the
other side of the room, in a plain niche, was the oidy
other idol in the room, a dark, erect, little man, guz-
iiig forlondy on the extinguished lamp and taper-
stumps before him.

The third and innermost room was filled with smoke
and odors from an adjacent kitchen, and was of still
nieiiiier a[)|K^arance. The wall ornaments were rarer,
and the cabinet of the plainest. Facing the side en-
trance was Tu Ti, god of earth in a poor shrine, or
hox, level with the floor, and arrayed in a miserable
cotton blouse ; yet this idol had great influence, owing
to ]iis supi)osed power to grant prosperit\% and to pro-
tect houses ai-id streets from evil spirits. He was
originally a prefect, in which capacity ho managed to
pioeuro the emancipation of his department from a
yearly slave levy ; and in recognition of tliis service a
grateful people raised him to godship and spj'ead his
worship all over the empire. Deceased heroes and
honored residents of a place are often exalted to local
proxies of the god, and receive honors during his fes-
tival on the second day of the second month.

In the recess of the alcove stood a large shrine,
plainer than the alcove shrines in the other rooms,
and containhiix the imaije of Wah Kwany:, the i^iver
of wisdom, with three eyes, whose festival takes place
on the 28th day of the ninth month. With the third
and never-slumbering eye in the forehead, he is able
to see 1000 miles around him, and protect his adhe-
rents against conflagrations. On his left stood two
smaller idols, the nearest having three eyes like himself,
and on his right is a bla'. -faced deity, with a roughly-
made tiger by his side, before which was an egg and
s(Mnc scattered rice to appease the evil propensities
that seem to lurk in its eyes.

The idols were draped statuettes of wood or plaster,

408

MONGOLIANISM IX AMERICA.

one and a half to tliree feet liigli, accordinof to tin ir
iniportaneo; usually fat, grotesque, and often cross-
eyed an(.l inane in ap}>earance. The complexion was
in conformity with itscharacter, and the males usually
wore mustache and imperial. The sculptured dress
was made conspicuous by paint in imitation of cin-
broidered silk ; glass and tinsel ornaments were added.
Few wore any other fabrics than a long red cotton
veil, whicii fell from both sides of the head over the
shoulders : and although most of them were flimsv af-
fairs, there were a few images in the quarter arra\ cd
in costly, embroidered silk robes and jewels, one in
Doctor Li-po-tai's temple costing several thousand
dollars. They were brought from China where their
consecration is attended with elaborate ceremonies to
induce the deity to occupy the image with a portion
of his spirit. Through a hole in the back arc inseited
the heart, lungs, and intestines, of silver or zinc, with-
out which the idol cannot live and be effective. I'lio
local idol manufacturers confine their skill to the jno-
duction of images for household use, of shrine.s, clotli-
ing, and presents of pa^xT, which are .sold by the tem-
ple .servants, who keep in their office a large stock of
candles, chiefly of red color, tapers, incense, and printed
prayers. Paper money and certain other ofi'erings re-
quire to be consecrated with prescribed ceremonies,
including a long array of prayers, in order to have
effect. Of course, a large quantity is consecrated hy
one process.

The neatest of the several temples in San Francisect
was that of the Hop Wo company, on Clay street,
which occupied the front ])ortion of the to}) stoiy.
Attention was called to the Imilding by a clean.
painted balcony, with two gilded signs and a couple of
lanterns, backed by windows of tinted glass. Tluie
was oidy one room, but it was clean and comparatively
bright, enabling the visitor to examine to his sati-stac-
tion the red silk bamiercts, standards, and ceremonial
umbrella with heavy curtain fringes, all richly ( ni-

anoiscd

stivct,

storv.

clcilll.
iU|il(' <it

Thnv

ativcly

■;atisl';ic-

I'lnoiiial

ilv CIH-

CHINESE MYTHOLOGY.

409

broidered with gold and silk of different colors, rej)re-
seiitiiiL^ dragons, birds, and foliage. The carved
caliinots and slirines, with gilt figures, w'eri> liner than
those alr<*ady described, and the wall-tablets were
iH'Mtcr. Tills abode was dedicated exelusivelv to
Kwun Tai, the god of war, whose image, with red
face, glaring eyes, and red Hannel surtout, was en-
throned in the gaudy shrine. He was j)owerful ntit
only in settling riots and disputes, in conferring
hnucry and intimidating the enemy, but also in finan-
cial uuitteTS, and might consequently be fouiui presid-
iii'>" at almost everv store. Sixteen centuries a<jo
Kwau Tai played the role of a successful general, who,
on the conclusion of a long war, declined all honors
and rewards, and joined a holy order for the ]»ractice
of benevolence. Formerly a leader of bloodthirsty
soldiers for the relief of towns and government, he
UdW led pious monks to the relief of th(^ })oor and sick.
Once ttnly he left this duty to save tlu^ tnipire from
tlie rebels, but returned innnediately afterward to his
task of mercy. While so empKtyed, there appeared
at the convent a distressed and wounded ]>ilgrim, in
whom he recognized the defi'ated rebel chief. The
(Jutv of the sohlier struggled with the spirit of charity
lunl suceund)ed. The wanderer was relieved and sent
on his way rejoicing, while Kwan Tai surrendered
liimsclf to the unyielding law to sutler death. The
<;iief-stricken emperor did not interfere with the course
t»f justice, but he exalted him to the ranks of the gods,
iuid as the ])atron of the ^danchu dvnastv Kwan Tai
has often aj)[)(>ared to aid J\<' imi)erial ai'ms.

A few other temples in San Francisco were conse-
crated to special divinities. That which once stood
iMi Post street was originally <ledicated to Tien Wiin,
<|Uren of heaven, the lomforter in trouble, especially
ef sailors. In conformity with the eubcmeristic ideas
"t th(! Chinese, she is traced to a common mortal who
li\ rd >.' .i]t eight ctMituries ago at Fo Tin, on the sea-
board of Tukien, the daughter of a seafaring family.

liii

410

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

Her extraordinary beauty and talent drew a liost of
admirers, but they vowed in vain, for heaven itsolf
had selected her for a bride, and removed her early
from their midst. Slie had been subject to epileptic
fits, during which her spirit was said to fly to the
rescue of storm-ridden crews. This belief gained ac-
ceptance among her countrymen, who speedily exalted
her to a divinity, and raised temples for her along tjie
seashores and river banks, whence they invited tJ!-'
worship of passing mariners. A favorite emblematic
adjunct of the idol is a full-rigged junk, with eyes in
the bow wherewith to find its way across the patlilrss
ocean. To her tem])le in San Francisco was afterward
added the image of Kin Wah, the guardian of cliiklrcn,
to whom pretenders to motherhood made ajipcals.
The Traviatas had also a patroness. For so little
religion, the Chinese had many gods.

In the temple buildhig of the six companies mi;j,lit
be found altars bearing; the names of deceased moin-
bers, and tablets were erected in the houselmlds to
receive the adoration and offerings of loving dosceiul-
ants. Several traditions exist to account for this the
most sacred and widespread worship among the Chi-
nese. One relates that many centuries ago an oHicer
who was travelling with his prince throu rh a famine-
stricken district of the empire cut off a piece of his
own flesh to sustain his beloved master. This so ex-
hausted him that he died by the way, and the itrlnce
on hearinir of his devotion erected a tablet to cnin-
memorato it. Another story runs that a man wlio
had been in the habit of ill-treating a female relative
became so repentant after her death that he raised an
imago to her in the household. On one oceasieii
when the man was beating his wife, in pursuaiiee of
the old habit, the latter pricked the image, in anm'r
or appeal, whereupon the statuette majiifestcd Icr
sorrow at the family feud by shedding blood as m < 11
as tears. This miracle was noised abroad, and it came
gradually to be a custom to erect images or tablets ta

TEMPLE GUARDIANS.

411

ancestors, whose spirits were evidently watching over
tlio household.

The guardians of the temples are not rci>ular ]>riests
but merely attendants, who wait upon the idols, trim
the lamps, su])ply incense tapers, sound the tomtom,
keep clean, and aid in ceremonial acts. They are
sui»[)ortcd by the revenue which results from the sale
of incense, candles, prayers, toys, and talismans, and
assist to dispose of the choice food offerings prt'sentcd
to tlio gods. Tliey also act as diviners and exorcists,
and if the attendance becomes slack at any period, a
miiiule is readily invented to stir the slumbering piety
into activity, or little festivals are extemporized to in-
(hice guilds or particular classes to patronize them.
The attendants as well as the temples may be hired
hy the day or hour for the performance of special ser-
vices, wlien thanks have to be rendered for favors, or
ajipeals made for divine aid.

'i'lie ceremonies for special services vary but little
from those observed daily during the festivals. At
certain intervals during the day tlie attendants appear
in robes of dark and light blue silk, an<l march round
the idol-chamber chanting a hymn. They then kneel
Ix'fore the idol, bowing a certain number of times, rise
and circle round, and halt before the incense-table,
wli're the arms are extended in ceremonial gesture.
A thid march round brings them once more to the
idol, to V hom food is humbly offered after a seriatim
!) •/' to one another. Having propitiated the deity
h. ;. i'o-urn to tlie incense table to consult the divin-
i'ln' 1-n. '^ncl the book of mystery, a task which is
alteiiu.'-', '. with several more processions, attended by
chants and orchestral music. The music has in view
the twofold object of rousing the drowsy god, and
keeuino; liim in (rood humor.

On ordinary occasions little or no rev(>rence is
!>!io\vn to the gods, ])robably because they are sup-
■>osed to be napping, and att<'ndants move round in
leeir sacred duties of lighthig tapers, placing oll'erings,

I ■•

|i|| :.

I
I

*4
■'A

1 '" -

t ^

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412

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

and so forth, as unconccmccily as y they wore per-
forming a household task. Worshippers are equally
nonchalant. The hat is retained on the head, the
cioai' is not removed, and talk as well as laughter are
freely indulged in. On approaching the idol to ninke
an offering, they place it on the tahle or altar, li<;l,t
the incense ta})er, and retire without more ceremony
than a quick, careless chin-chinning, that is, tlirt o
low bows. It is only for special reasons that tiny
exhibit more devotion. If health has been re8t(aed,
a journey safely accomplished, or a fortunate barnaiii
made, then may they consider it prudent to return
thanks in order to insure the continuance of divine
favor. St J e devout in prayers and ofi'e rings do

they become \. m a favor has to be sought, the care-
less bow is then replaced by humble prostration,
wherein the head strikes the floor before the shrine,
and jtrayers are repeated on the rosary beads. This
devotion is particularly noticeable among the women,
who appear to feel their hiferiority. If the wor-
shipper has a request to make, he turns from the god
whom he has propitiated to the divining urn, wlii( h
contains a score or more of bamboo strips, and eitlier
[licks one, while muttering his wish, or shakes tlie
urn, until a strip falls out. The mavk on this strip
refers him to the yellow book of oracies, wherein lii s
the answer of the god, worded in parables, or mystic
sentences, which may be construed into almost any
form. For instance, "The ancient man Luk Sliun
suffered captivity in a labyrinth. Like a person in
his cups, he sees forms confused and deceptive. Sud-
denly he meets with an honorable man who leads liini
safely out. This person, thereupon rejoicing, escajics
from the net." Another may read: "Desiring one.
he obtains two. Venturing little and gaining mu( li.
Both public and private business mutually aid each
other. There is extreme profit in asking tor wealth."
The former reply is evitlently favorable, while the
latter appears like an admonition not to feel ue-

GOOD AND EVIL OMENS.

413

spoiulent, but to try aijjain at a future time. An-
otlur and simple mode of questioninj^ the gods is to
iippcal to the divining blocks. These consist of a
jviir of wooden half-moons, round on one side, and
Hat on the other, representing the male and female
piiiieiples of the dual power in nature. Framing his
wish, the worshipper drops them on the floor, and if
our. falls flat, while the other remains on its rounded
surface, then the answer is favorable. If this happens
twice out of three times, he is satisfied ; if not, he
struggles with fortune thrice the sacred three times ;
(ir, if the enterprise is of great importance, he will
consult the gods and the blocks for three successive
(liivs. It is also th; custom to seek divine answers in
ii dream, and after pro})itiating the god the worsh.ipper
win spread his mat on the temple floor, })raying for a
whisper from spirit land. This ceremonj' is frequently
|)'rf(jnned at home, where the kitchen god is the usual
personage addressed.

The direction of all afftiirs in life does not pertain im-
iiK'diately to the gods, however, but falls und(^r the
cDiiti'ol of imps or spirits, whose disposition must l)e
studied before an enterprise can be carried out. The
alnanac, issued under the auspices of the combined
wis lorn of imperial counselors, is an indispensable
.;ui(ie in these matters. It points out the lucky and
unlucky days and signs; when a man should or
should not enter on official duties or important trans-
actions, when it might be disastrous to engage in a
hattle, when risky to speculate or gamble, when dan-
ijl'pous to slaughter or to apply certain remedies, and
so on. Rules like these may cause ex})ense, incon-
venience, and misery, but they also afford a good ex-
cuse for ignoring the calls of duty. Every unusual
phenomenon, every accident, every peculiar occur-
ri'ui'o, is fraught with portentous significance. If a
• loud assumes a strange form, if the candle is extin-
guished V>y a gust of wind, if the wick curls, or a
sitark falls, if a muscle twitches, then may good or

i> !|

•

414

MONGOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

bad fortune be expected, according to the hour and
circumstance. If a crow or hawk flies over one's
head, it is a bad omen; but a singing bird is a liar-
binger of joy. To overcome or to neutralize the ills
which beset the path of hfe at every step, becomes a
serious business. Fortunately there is that com-
pendium of wisdom, the almanac, to consult. It di-
rects that if a house suffers evil by being overshadowed
by a tree, or by the higher dwelling of a neigiibor,
then a flagstaif may be erected of a certain len^tli,
and in a certain position, or a lantern may be sus-
pended, bearing the inscription, " peace," and the di-
vine name of Tz-mi-yuen, and the influence will be
neutralized. Houses and furniture may be made of
a peculiar form, to attract fortune or repel evil.
Doors, walls, and effects may bo cliarmed with sacred
inscriptions, dragons, or other figures. Charms aiso
protect the person, and the ankles of children and
women are encircled by ivory rings ; round the nock
hang amulets of sandal-wood, archaeological relics, or
a gilded bag ; in the ears are talismanic rings ; and
bells and images cling to the dress.

In matters so momentous which concern health,
prosperity, and life itself, the Chinaman dares not, of
course, trust to his own judgment, aided only by the
limited rules of the almanac and the vague oracles of
gods ; he must hie to one of the numerous professional
mediums, astrologers, and sorcef-ers, who are deeply
read in spirit lore, and hoary with experience. They
will call any given spirit to lift the veil of the future,
consult the Fung-shwui, or winds and waters, skttch
a career, guide to fortune, and surmount obstacles.

Mediums who commune with spirits are generally
old women, called Kwai-ma, and the most popular
are those, who, anterior to being reborn in this world,
arc supposed to have allied themselves by friendship
and gratitude with a soul yet awaiting birth, and which
lives in their body, aiding them to confer with other
spirits. Some mediums acquire control over a spirit

ASIATIC SPIRITUALISM.

416

bv placing an image among the graves, and seeking
by long prayers and. attractive ottbrings to induce a
wandering soul to enter therein and become their aid.
Others fasten their evil eye on some person of ability,
and seek to cast a spell over his soul, obliging it to
take up its abode in the image after his death which
is said to follow very quickly wi*h such practices.
No subject is too trivial or too vas*^i for the greedy
medium, and she is prepared to act for anj'one who
brings the necessary adjuncts of a little rice, three
incense sticks, and, above all, some money, wherewith
to allure the spirit. She endeavors to learn as much
as possible of the history of the a[)plicant, in connec-
tion with his wishes, and then, lii4htin<jj the sticks ami
placing them in her hair, she scatters some rice about
her, closes her eyes, and mutters words of m_\.stic im-
port as her head droops over the table before her.
After a while the spirit apj)ears, and addresses tlui
applicant through the unconscious medium. If the
spirit is not in a favorable mood, it may be iiccessary
to ap])easc it with a choice meal. While discussing its
steaming essence, the mutterings may assume vague
reference to the wishes of the dupe, who is usually
recommended to perform certain religious rites, in
order to attain his ol)ject. Even the temple and the
class of ofllcrings are indicated to gain for the iiu^lium
tlie additional profit of a percentage from the priests.
aV favorite mode of spirit communication, even with
tilt! intelligent, is for two persons to hold a stick, with
pencil attached, vertically on a board covered with
sand, and invoke the spirit to write the oracle under
tlieir tremulous hands.

Fortune-tellers arc more patronized than mediums,
and may be found in considci'able nund^er, prepared
to write out the past and future, disclose the prosp(K ts
of an undertaking, and point out the way to employ-
ment, to investments, and to happiness. Their stock
ni trade consists of a table ; an urn containing divining
Btieks, which are strips of wood with characters in-

41C

MONOOLIANISM IN AMERICA.

i.'

scribed ; a slate and some paper, with pencil and India
ink; and a few books with explanations of viuious
methods of divination, including phrenology, pahiiis-
try, theomancy, sciomancy, and sortilege, illuHtratcil
with diagrams. The principal method is by aid of the
Confucian system of the dual principles of nature, mule
and female, the former representing the heavenly at-
tributes of light, heat, and perfection, the latter, the
earthly, of darkness, cold, and imperfection, symbolizrd
respectively by — and — . By forming these lines
into parallel couples, four combinations are obtaiiifd,
to which have been applied the names of the cardinal
virtues, piety, morality, justice, and wisdom. By
forming them into triple parallels, eight combinations
result, which symbolize heaven, earth, fire, air, water,
mountains, thunder, moisture. By further combina-
tion of the virtues and elements sixty-four aphorisms
result, on which have been framed not only the an-
swers of diviners, but a system of ethics and a cosmog-
ony. The applicant for mystic glimpses draws one
or more divining strips, the characters on wliich arc
noted by the fortune-teller, and combined witli the
above symbols according to a prescribed form. The
result is convej'ed generally in an abscure, non-com-
mittal answer, which is greedily puzzled over by the
dupe, and twisted into the most flattering versions
possible. Instead of the strips, three copper cash,
marked with similar characters, may be used by the
applicant. Shaken in a box, they are cast by liini
thrice three times, and the different combinations of
characters formed into a diagram by the numisnianeer,
who, asa close observer of human nature, also calls his
penetration to aid in framing the answer. He further
discovers the cause of diseases and their remedv, and
keeps a supply of medicine to palm off" upon his im-
pressible patients, or throws custom into the hands
of certain doctors and apothecaries. Spare n.omcnts
are besides devoted to writinjj letters for the illiterate.
In the upper strata of the divining profession stands

ASTROLOGY AXD IJEM0N'0L0( i Y.

417

the astrolojjjer, who pavea liis way to respectability by
cliiuu;ing from one to five dollars for what the huin-
bkr hrother will do ft)r as many diiDcs, and who sus-
tains his reputation by a larger collection of books,
treating on soothsaying, cosmogony, and stellar in-
HiieiK'o. The dual character of the hours, days,
iiKiiilhs, and years of a cycle, arc formed into eight
iliiigrams, each having several scores of combinations,
sonic marked with lucky red, others with ominous
black. With these are connected the ethic diauiams
of tlio fortune-teller, and the kings of the four seasons,
njiresented by four figures, on the various i)arts of
wliicli are marked characters denoting the dilFerent
lioui's of the day and night, changed in position on
each figure. If a person has been born under the
character marked on the head or hand of the king,
]irosi)erity awaits him; under other characters his
]iros]K'cts are more or less favorable, but the sign on
the foot bodes misfortune. Provided with the hour,
day, month, and year of birth, the astrologer forms
the horoscope by connecting their characters with
those of the five eknnents, the zodiac, and the kings,
till the diagram deveh)ps into a perfect chart, gene-
nlizing destiny for decades, or detailing the prospects
of everv month, if the fee is lary-e enough. The
periods are pointed out which fall under the influence
of evil stars and phenomena, and the course of con-
duct indicated wherewith to pass safely through the
danger. The happy epochs are also marked with pre-
cautionary regulations for neutralizing the appearance
of a crow or other evil omens that may chmd the hor-
izon. The best 3'ear is pointed out for making a for-
tune; when to build a house and where; when a son
will bo born, and so on. Palmistr}', phrenologv% and
physiogiunny are frequently made use of to perfect
the diagrams.

]\Iany revelations of diviners attribute the cause of
troubles to some of the evil spirits which haunt the
children of heaven on every side. When a house is

Essays and Miscellany '£l

; i 1'

41 S

MONGOLIANISM IX AMERICA.

1. w

built, a new lodging occupied, or a new suit of clotlics
put on, an imp is sure to inveigle himself into some
cranny, and being aware of this the Chinaman lias
timely recourse to exorcism and charms, in order to
secure himself. A common method is to take a tray
with some rice and three cups of liquid, place a burn-
ing incense-stick at each corner, light some pajier of
the yellow, talismanic color, and empty the three cups
upon the flaming paper, while scattering the ikc.
This has the efi:ect of driving away demoniac s})iiits
and of appeasing the good. But there are unguarded
moments when a charm may have been neglected, and
free entry allowed to the ever-lurking spirits, wliose
second entry is far more serious than the first, as the
holy book teaches. In such cases it is safer to call
in the experienced aid of one of the professional
exorcists, known as Nam Mo. If a house is haunted,
for instance, the charmer commences by burning in-
cense before the family gods and mumbling incanta-
tions, while preparing a sacred liquid consisting of
water mixed with ashes from yellow charm scrips,
which bears a curse in vermilion or red letters.
Armed with a sword and a magic wand engra^('d
witli three stars and the name of the Thunderer, lie
proceeds to rave and stamp, to brandish and whirl liis
implements, and to squirt in every direction from
his mouth the sooty liquid, yelling to the demons
to depart in a manner that makes it appear as
if they had possession of him rather than of the
house. A similar procedure is used to relieve a
possessed person. If the diviner finds that an ances-
tral spirit troubles the afflicted, the cause must bo
looked for and remedied by more liberal ofFerin-js. or
change of tomb.

'g^..

CHAPTER XIV.

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

Of man's injustice why sliould I complain T
The gods and Jove hiniscif, heliohl in vain
Triumphant treasim, yet no thunder Hies.

— ('olliih't' Viri/lt.

There is something in the liandling of money for
in^ain tliat tends to the demoralization of tlie finer
faculties. It sears the more generous fcelincfs, and
makes the heart like the metal, cold and hard. There
is a difTcrence in mani})ulating one's own money or
aiiotlier's, the former tending to the higher selfishness.
There is a difference in this respect even between the
commercial banker and men of the savings bank,
to tlic disadvantage of tlie former, in whose occupa-
tion tliere is less of the sentiment of benefit to others.

Tliere are few positions more unfavorable for mind
and soul development than that of bank-teller, where
the man becomes a counting-machine, the mind being
forced to fix itself attentively on the work in order to
avoid nnstakes, while ground down by dead monotony.
This, however, is totally diftcrent from the occupatif)n
of the manager, who is obliged constantly to arbitrate
hi'tween the interests of the bank and the necessities
of applicants for loans. The aristocracy of England,
when ruling trade and money-making from thf ir
higlier atmosphere, could hardly have selected \c^^
improving occupations to be followed with some
dci^ree of respectability by necessitous lordlings than
those of banker and jeweller.

Monopoly exercises a more vicious reflex influence
upon the man than usury or any other form of exact-

MIO)

MOXKY AND ISICNOFOLY.

ing ojain from one's fellows. The system of slavery is
(ioinoraliziii«^ to the master, because no man can prac-
tice injustice toward his fellow-man without h( inn
iiimself injured and debased thereby. So it is with
tht; {L^ambler, whether in the shares of the brokt I's
board, or in the cornering of wheat for an advance, ov
at the faro-table in the club-room,— any system of ex-
tortion, or obtaining from or forcing pirsons to pay
money unjustly, and without giving full equivalent, is
not only injurious to tlie victim and the public, but
most of all to him who ])ockets the spoils.

Tv/enty years ago half a million of dollars was con-
sidered quite a fortune ; ten years ago three or i\\v
nullion-dollar men were becominu: plentiful; to-dav
for a person to be remarkably rich he nmst have from
ten to fifty millions. Some of these large fortunes
have been legitimately made, others of them have not;
hence, not unfrequently we hear the question asked
regarding a rich man and his money, Did he come by
it honestly ?

])uring these days of strong competition and
defined business channels, the laroest fortunes are not
made by merchants or manufacturers, but by nianij)ii-
lators of mines, railways, or grain. The hnids of a
large holder may so increase in value as to mak(; him
enormously wealtliy, and there arc many cattle-kings
among the millionaires; but as a rule the great fui'-
tunes come from <>amblino; ventures, trickeiv on a
mighty magnificent scale, or downright rascality
barely shielded by all-accommodating lav/, but all
under various degrees of indirection.

The manipulation of capital in a speculative manner,
and the making avail of oppoitunity, which in the
l^acific States have led to so many large fortunes, were
primarily due in a measure to the placer-mining occu-
pation which predominated throughout the Pacific
coast. The pursuit, with its chance results, ni»\\ a
competency, now a sudden fortune, but usually blaul^s,
with its dcsultorv work, its wandering life, and its

ORIfiTN OF TIIK OAMKLIXd .sl'lltlT.

l.Kisi; lial)its, all teiickd to conllnn the rt'stloss ninl
uaiiil)lin;4 i)r()i)C'nsitu'S of the adventurers who HocUmI
liitli(r. The example of those who leturiKtl, the
in us and fancies spread from the enchanted short s,
;i;iil tlio marked effect of the new re;jjion on our trade
iiiid industries, filled others with speculative idi'as.

Then, witli the opiiiinijj (;f the Nevada silver de-
jiosits, { anie re^uhir i^amhlinjj; in mining stocks at
speeiiil exchang( s, in which uU < lapses frantically ]^ar-
ti(i[tated, to the iiii[ti)Verishnu'nt (f thousands, wh(»se
iint'stments and assessments disa])peai'ed into the
("tpacious pockets of unscrupulous mana«^-ers. luist-
11 II men caui^ht the; infection, which received no small
stimulus from thcj lluctuations in uold values durino-
tlic war, and was marked sid)se(|uently hy the trans-
lilaiitlng of western minint.'' stock deals into thc'ir
iiililst, in fittinijj association with corners, rings, trusts,
iiiid other vicious devices.

We pass laws to suppress gambling with cards
wlieit' the chances are fair and the »iaine lionestlv
(li alt, and call it vice, and so it is; but we not only
tiijerate but patronize mannnoth gaming establish-
ments where the poor and inexperienced are regularly
vi( timized by rich and rejtutable sharpers. We aie
si locked to see a man enter a clul)-room and lay his
iiioiHy on a monte-table, but prim matrons and
l)Uiitaiii(al preachers and churchmen can bet with
rcsjiec-table impunity on what shall be the value of
st()( ks er grain a we( k or a numtli hence.

In the race for wealth loftier aspirations arc too
oft( n trampled under foot, many devoting themselves
luait and soul throusfhout life to the fascination of
gamhling and cheating within the jiale of law. Barrt n
ill all the nobler attributes of intellect, and in lieait
and feelinij: fold as ice and hard as stone, the souls of
UiCf^o jiG II rrrs riches: are shrivelltsd to slag, their c< n-
scit noes utterly benundjcd. Selfish and unprincipled,
tliiy play upon the necessities of others, using tl c
power their wealth gives them to increase its ah\aeiy

4-22

MONFA" AND MONOPOLY.

'■'■'

enormous bulk, by iinpoverisliiiig poor produfMis ;
by lying in wait for opportunities to get sonuthin^
for nothing; by regulating elections so as to jmt their
tools in power ; by originating plausible sehenies to
rob the peo[)le; by inflating or breaking the stock-
market at pleasure, so as to gather at one fell swuop
the small aceunmlations of those thousands of sm.illcr
gamblers who are foolish enough to stake their all uu
games beside which faro and three-card montc arc
honorable and fiiir; by bribing assessors so that tlio
burden «>f taxation shall fall on the laboring classes
and honest merchants.

Whii)ple says of them: "Such men we occasion-
ally meet in business life; nu'n who have not one
atom of soul, but have sold the last immortal grain
of it for hard cash. They have received the millions
they desired, but have they made a good V)argain ?
The ditHculty with thi'ircase comes from their liaviiig
no capacity for enjoyment left after the sale. Coarse,
callous, without sympathy, without afiection, witlmut
frankness and generosity of feeling, dull even in tlirir
senses, des|)ising human nature, and looking upon
their fellow creatures simply as i>ossible victims of
their all-grasping extortion, it would seem as tlion^h
they had (h'libci'ately shutup, one byone.allthesouiVL's
of enjoyment, and had, coiled up hi their bnasts, a
snake-like avarice, which nmst eventuall}' sting tlinu
to death. Some men find happiness in gluttony and
in drunkenness; but no delicate viands can touch tin ir
taste with the thrill of pleasure, and what generosity
there is in wine steadily refuses to impart its glow to
their shrivelh^d hearts."

But pivaching against the passion has little ell! it.
Some worship wealth with greater intensity than
t)thers, but all love money. Every man thinks if he
had it he could master it. He is <iuite sure it would
not master him. As the adage says "Qui uti scit. ri
bona." To him who knows how to use them, richrs
are a blessing; to those who do not, they are a cm so.

ri »ki

ILL-fiOTTEN GAINS.

423

What power of gold tliat can make of liell a lieavori,
or of lieaveii a hell 1 Whether a curse or a blessing
to the possessor is of suuill moment as comi>areil to
the effect on the connnmiity at large. And this wc
know, that great wealth in the hands of hulividiuils
(Idis not usually redound to the greatest good of the
greatt'st number.

ill the decay of the republic, says Plato, an intem-
jiciate thirst for wealth and the licentiousness and
rxtravagance resulting therefrom, breed in tlie statts
;i race of grasping misers and ruined spendthrifts.
The first stage of decay is a timocracy marked by
iuiihition and love of gain; the second step in its dv-
(liiic and fall is an oligarchy "wliere gold is all pow-
cit'iil and virtue is depreciated ; and the state becomes
divided into two hostile classes, one eiiormouslv rich
and tlie other miserably poor; antl in it paupers and
criminals nmltiply, and education deteriorates."

In monopoly ;)rr sc there may be nothing wrong.
Tlicre are various kinds and ])hases of monoj)oly.
^lono|)oly, in and of itself, signifies simply exclusive
ri^lit or sole ownership. This sole possession or cx-
cliisixe right to buy, sell, or enjoy may have been ob-
tained honestly and exercised Justly. The law gives
authors and inventors the monopoly of their works
toi- a time that they may secure ])ropcr renmneration
for th(^ir labors. So if with his own monev a man
liu\ s a right o^ way and builds a road he may monop-
oll/.c trafKc, but he cannot rightly t-mploy momy to
]tirvcnt other roads from being made, or other per-
sons to engage in the traffic. It is a swindle upon
the pul)lic for a steand)oat company to ))ay nu)ney
ohtain<'(l from tlu^ jniblic to a ri\al craft in order to
\Xrt more fi'om the |)ubhc than is fair for the people
io pay. It is impossil>Ie f >i' a monoj)olist who stooi)s
to any indirection to be anything but a dishonest man,
and a curse to the conmiunitv.

Further than this, the suddeii actjuisitiou of groat

«;■ :

424

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

I mn

wealth is usually attended by fraud. H(nv do presi-
dents and directors of great corporations, beoiiiiii|i<r
on nothing, by simply manipulating other })e(»p]('s
money, so quickly make it their own? Or, as the
Roman once more pointedly put it to Lucius Cornelius
Sylla, "How can you be an honest man who, since
the death of a father who left you nothing, have be-
come so rich?"

True, in some instances, public benefactions flow
from these large accunuilations, to the ap[)lause of the
thouglitless and dazzled masses; but as a rule tlie
greedy monopolist hugs his ill-gotten gains with
miserlj' tenacitj^ or spends it in infamous ways fni' in-
famous i>urposes. Even if large sums are sometimes
spent in charit}^ or in the erection of some conspicu-
ous institution and benefaction by those who cannut
carry their wealth into the other world, how much ef
thanks should be giv^en them by those from whom
they fraudulently oi)tained this wealth, and m ho pt r-
adventure would prefer distributing their own uifts
rather than have it done by robbers? Then, too, we
n)ight ask. How nmch restitution of stolen wealtli
does it take to condone the offence?

Knowing themselves to be frauds, knowing thnt
all UKMi are aw'are of it, and knowing that all nun will
bow down and worship a Wi'althy fraud, such nun ( ;iu
at least console themselves in the reflection that how-
soever they nuny rank in knavery, they an; envird
rather than desi)ised bv the oreat maiority of tli( ir
neighbors. Yet there are men in this workl who will
not worship besotted wealth. Let (^ro-sus with his
ground-out gains build him a (ialiana j)alaee; let him
fill it with rare and costly furnishings, and invite his
parasites to enter and eat with him ; nevertheh ss, like
the soulh'ss monster made by Fraid\enstein out of the
fragnu'iits of men gathered from dissecting tab]« s iuifl
churchyards, ami iml)ued with life by galvanism, his
first consciousness being a longing for companionship,
ho is shunned by every true nian.

THE ALLTJREMENTS OF WEALTH.

425

By a lucky stroke of fortune, not W industry, not
by nierit, not by raind, the man of notliinj^ yesterday
is to-day the man of millions. Tlie individual himself
is in no v/li it changed; he is just as ignorant or learned,
ju.-5t as stu[»id or intelligent, just as vulgar and ras-
c:\]]y, or as refined, pious, and honest as befoi'e. Yet
some resplendent virtue seems, hi the eyes of his fel-
lows, suddenly to have taken possession of him, and
his every movement is watched by eager admirers —
lit ills money. These doff their hats and bend their
haei:?. and ho, poor idiot, thinks it to himself and not
to his lucre the time-servers do obeisance.

Mind b<.)\vs before money. Brave, indeed, must be
the atr'.r">'<jfles that overcome the allurcMuentsof luxui'v,
the fjubtle, sensuous influence of wealth, entering as it
(Iocs tilt! d:)mains alike of intellect and the atl'ections,
opi^ning nature, widening art, and filling enlarged ca-
pacities for enjoyment. Yet he who would attain the
highest must shake from liini these entrancing fetters
and stand forth absolutely a free man. I cannot but
chooso to say to povei'ty, with Jean Paul Jiichtei-,
whoso thoughts roll off in swells of poetry, "be wt 1-
coine. so thou come not too late in life. KicheH\\(igh
mere li(>avily upon talent than poverty. Under gold
uiouiitains and thrones lie buried many s|iiritual
giants. WIuMi to the flame that the n;itiiral beat of
youth kindles the oil of ricln^s is added, little more
than tlie ashes of the phaMiix remains, and only a ( b>lh
has had the forbearance not to sin<>e his phuenix wings
(it fortune.

It is not a pleasing feature of the existing condition
ot things for an intelligent and fair-minded lre<'man to
('(Miteniplati^that a few sellisb and grasping men, rat-
ing as respiM'table that is, as more respectable than
the swindlers whom the law pimishes are ever plot-
ting to gain some undue advantage ovi'r their fellows,
ovei- tliose less cuiming and unscrnjtulous than th(^m-
selvi s. l?ursuing the even tenor of their way. |ires-
cntly these citizens of sini[>ler minds and more contented

m r

U\'i

486

MONEY AND MONOPOLY

r I

hearts feel themselves and the whole community to
be enfolded in the suffocating grasp of some denum
monopoly. They awake, perhaps, to find seized every
avenue of approach to the city, by land or by water,
to find every traveller and every article of men luui-
dise that comes to the country taxed to support the
monster, their own monc}' being taken, first to make
rich the monopolists, and then to buy oti' legitimate
coni})etition, so that more money may be wrt)ngfullv
extorted from them; to find merchants made serfs hv
tricksters who lord it more bravely than ever did
feudal baron, to the everlasting shame of those who
endure it.

It is worse than the autocratic tyrant, who perpe-
trates his abuses openly, while this insidiously att.uks
us under the guise of conferring benefits, att;i( king us
indeed through the very benefactions bestowed upon
it by ourselves.

If we must have kings to rule over us, bettor feudal
kings than modern money-kings, one-eyed cyclojis
who can see nothing but gold, and in wlu)iii wiili
their retainers, their courtiers, lawyers, legislators,
and judges, the interest of the people are sunk in a
close corporation with a one-man power for its center,
and for whose sole benefit the property is
manipulated.

My friend Charles Nordhoff sends me his little hook
Politics For YotDiff Americans. I open it and read:
"Napoleon III. lield France by the throat for ei-li-
teen years, and all the meaner sort of mankind glori-
fied him as the wisest of rulers." This is the tniie wo
love to assume in teaching our children, in conipaiing
our government with tJiat of other nations. N"
wonder we are jiuffed up and ignorant. When I look
upon the prostitution of princi])les in my own d tin-
try ; when I smell the rank corruption of our legisla-
tive assemblies and municipal halls, when I sn vil-
lainy, in the similitude of nien, bought and sold as in
the rankest days of licentious Home, when I aee

I 3 ,

WAN"! ED, BETTER GOVERNMENT.

427

disease creopii]<:r toward the vitals of this intellectually
vcimg and stron<^ coniinonwealth, and thousands of
i»l;i(k African and parasitical European patriots with
tlirir vile leaders feeding" the plas^ue instead of stop-
|)iii'4 it, then I must confess, with no small thanks
for tlie enlightenment acquired, that I am one of the
imaiKT sort who prefer honest despotism to rotten
ivpuhhcanism.

^len have always depended too nmch on govern-
ment and too little on themselves. Settinjjf up judge,
g()\crnor, and legislu^ure, they call upon these crea-
turt s of their own creating as on gods, begging to be
delivered from wrath of every kind. Looking upon
our legislators and our governors, and knowing noth-
ing of the gifts of gold so freely passed to them by
tlio.se who would buy justice or injustice, both of
which are always for sale, we feel with Oxenstierna
when lie exclaimed, " See, my son, by how little
wisdom we are governed 1"

What we want is more of the old-fashioned despot-
ism ; not the desp)tism of the mob, or of mono}', but
of tlie despotism which punishes rabble outbreaks, and
bribery, tlie despotism which hangs ini(|uitous mo-
nopolists and unjust judges ; for when tlie cohesive
t'oivo of des[)otisni is absent from the government, and
the cohesive force of virtue is lacking in the people,
beware of trouble. We may be very sure, that with-
out intelligence and morality, despotism or anarchy
are inevitable, and of the two I prefer the former.

Nevertheless, monopoly is too prominent a feature
of that selfishness which forms the chief motive for
our actions, and consequently for progress, to be ut-
terly decried. It is condenmed nurely hi the abuse,
es|)t>pially as manifestetl by soulless rorj)oi'ations —
soidless in their acts as well as in the sense of Chief
Justice Manwood's demonstrati<,>n that God alone
I'l'eates souls, not ])olitical authorities to whom cor-
puiatioua owe exiateuee. Abuse began with the very

r|f

428

MONEY AND MONO POLY.

first strife in tlie cliaso between savage men, wIku
the winner secured for himself tlie entire body of the
larger proportion. It assumed magnitude with inva-
sion and conquest, wlien tlie source for wealth .liid
subsistence was seized upon in the land, which in it-
self was an enslavement of the inhabitants.

Tlu! ini(juitous monopoly is evidently objectionaMr
in every respect, while the just and legitimate s|k'-
cies inijilies a bargain of one favor for another. ;i
reward for benefits received or to be conftiicd.
The strongest illustration hereof a[)j)ears in })ati nts,
wiiich grant to the inventor the sole control of his
idea or machine for a term, as compensation i'nr
sharing their advantages with the j)ublic. Similar
benefits are expected from charters conceded lor rail-
ways, manufactures, and other commercial and imlus-
trial ])urposes. But for the ex[>ecte(l blessings to ilow
therefrom they would not be allowed to spring iiitn
existence ; for the attendant evil, aside from the exar-
tion of the reward or price, is signified by the stii>ula-
tioiis, es[)ecially as to term of life, wliich vaiiis ac-
cording to the magnitudi^ of the concession. .\
patent endures ft)r only a few years, l)ut the jtitcf uf
land is given in ])erpetuity, in return for sett]( nunt
and cultivation, while the railwav charter embraco
Certain facilities which yiehl to tlie holdi^rs a mo-
nopoly de[)endent on circumstances. Long before t!.'
ex[)iration of the terms, the impatit;nt })ubhe, wiih
poor memory for past favors, begins to growl at the
exclusiveness and the conse(iueiit n^striction or burtlin
on itself, and tliis becomes louder as the h(»lders. hy
meansoftheu'[)rerogativesaiid ac(juired strength, sn k
to extend and ]>rolong their })ower, or take additi'nal
or undue advantages. The nmrmur should b<' ecjually
diriH-ted against the king or <;overmnent or svstcia
which make concessions without due foresight as t*
equivalents and results.

Monopoly has borrowed its main strength from tlie
organization and cooperation which form such inqxni tut

ORIGIN AX]) DEVELOPMKNT.

429

factors in civilization. Its nfrowtli indeed lias been
;i]»:i(f with proirrchS, and with the expansion of fVeo-
(I nil. The success of man in shakins;' ofi' political des-
|) it ism and attaining' to greater liberty of thought and
action, has brought to the surface or intensified a
mniihcr of hitherto suppressed evils — the usual I'esult
of all experiments, as the re})ublic still is in a measure,
and as tlie present industrial development is in |>artic-
ular. with novel steam-})ower, machinerv,and railways,
whicli form the great im})lcments for monopoly. Vn-
(Ici- a despotic government such outcrop}»iiig isn^adily
cliccked; but in overthrowing the })olitical autocrat
and distributing his ijrerocj-atives anion*; themselves,
tlie people gave power to this and other obnexious
cKiiieiits. Instead of one tvrant rose nianv. !Midst
tlic scramble for position and wealth the strong and
tlic supple elbow<Hl their way forward, pushing the
weaker to the wall. '^Fhe very privileges vested in
tlii'ui for the general welfare they diverted to their
own jiurposes.

The faculty to associate for the achievement of
;j,ivat enterprises, which must have had its greatest
i'lipulse in the need for protection, especially against
hdstile neighbors, was particularly well developed
aiiiniig tlie Aryans, nourished by their system of
kiiisliip. property-holding, and ado])ti(m of new meni-
It'is, Tiie practical Ilonian attained to preeminence
ill this respt'ct. The collegium rose as the ar-
tificial substitute for the Arvan liousehohl, to unite
religious and political bodies, commercial and indus-
tiial, social and benevolent. Tlie most useful forms
iif it were adaptations of Punic institutions, notably
fi'nin Carthage, which in itself jiresents a jirototype
f 11' tlie h'.ter India comitanies of Dutch and J'^nglish.
Ill tlie universities wo behold a corporation of corpor-
atimis, of which the Christian church exhibited in due
time tlu! nicest extensive consolidation, with sjiiritual,
so( ial. and material aims.

Among the early Teutons the facilities for combi-

430

MONEY AXT) MOXOPOLY,

nation were inferior, partly from their scattered cnntli-
tion, with little concentration in towns. I'latU'.
nevertheless, asserted its intluence in this dircdion,
and with the growing abnormities of feudal tiims,
merchants and artisans were obliged to elaborate the
guild for the protection especially of labor, and m itli
regulations of prices as well as methods and aj>[»ivii-
ticeship, and social and charitable perfonnances. in
Englajid it assumed formal shape only after theXdi-
maii invasion, althougli based on Saxon customs. In
France the Roman model prevailed, and here ntci-
cliant? early separated into a distinct class from that
of crafts or metiers, with their grades of petty masti is.
companions or journeymen, and api)rentices. K.iily
monopolies wore almost always beneficial.

Itc'cognizing these corporations in a measure as tlic
stomach of the body social for the employment of es-
pecially skilled labor in the transmutation of raw laluir
and raw resources or capital into new forms, sovd-
eigns found it to their interest to favor them, partly with
a view to reduce the power of the nobility ; so guilds and
barons were pitted against each other. The foinif r,
as a fulcrum for the autocratic lever, received a num-
ber of privilegts, notably for municipal governiiunt.
The Germanic independence of cliaracter whi( h as-
serted itself in the strife for a share in sovereiuiitv
and administration by nobles and comnKmers, lords,
and tribes, and nmnicipalities, stood manifest in the
socio-political nature of the guilds, on which, in(h ( d,
local administration mainly rested, guided by uuild
laws. Sometimes a merchant guild alone held sway.
The parish corporations of England display tlie ivIks
of the svstem.

At one time all classes were embraced therein, Loii-
don, for instance, conferring the full eniovment of cit-
izcnsliip only on members. In China the system ot
associations is widely diffused amonoj all social branches,
but with a slavish conformity to habit rather than
to utility, while the latter motive forms the chief in-

MATERIALIZATION OF INDUSTRY.

431

centive among Americans, who rank as the foremost
practical organizers.

( )i'gaiiizatiou and cooperation have been great levers
(if progress, for elevating the masses, yet their very
success breeds elements of corruption. The leading
bodies ill a certain branch, incited by greed and am-
bition, seek to crush minor competitors; others grow
exclusive, and render admission ditficult for apprentices.
Ill other cases more prosperous and shrewder mend)ers
will Ml)S!)rb the shares t)r influence of others, and with
grnwitig strength oust obnoxious partners bv means
of assiissnients, mani|)ulations, and other trickery.
When the successors of Charlemagne united state and
church to crush the peasantry, the towns' guilds were
implored to aid their brethren. They selfishly re-
fused, and looked calmlv on, confidini; in stroii*:: walls
f)r their own safety. Similar was the attitude of
the burghers and craftsmen of England. These
classes, indeed, joined in o[)[)ressing the classes below
thorn. In this manner were developed the objection-
aijle features of the manse organization, wheieliy
barons and abbots reduced so large a })roportion of the
peasantry to a servile condition, with ti'o aid of a war
corporation of knightly adherents, while in the towns
the guild loaders unfolded into a nioneyed ailf'tocracy,
which was courted to sustain the other wing of state
and church.

The invention of tlie steam-engine, and its vast
train of novel machinery for all braiudies of in^lustry
ai'.il trade, proved the means for cheapening food, for
iiicr(\asing creature comr>rts, for opening fresh and
readier outlets for a surplus population, for elevating
intei't'ourso, and other benefits <'alculated espoclally to
improve the condition of the masses. Nev^-rthtdcss,
out. of these very blessings capital snatched its strong-
est moans for oppression. Instead of l)ett3' masters
working at home with their small band of journey-
men and apprentices, as in wt^aving, laboi-saving
machinery called for united operations at ouc locality.

;=,

•li: I

iiiiili

U\'

432

MONHV AND MONOrOLY.

Factoi-'ics were oroctetl wltli Ji lar^^'o plant roquiiiii'j;
capital; ricli men and corporations conic into control df
ent('r|)rist'S Jiitlierto tliviilcd among a larj^c number of
small bodies or individuals, and petty niasters \V( re
reduced to wa;^c-workcrs. ]\racl)inery tendcti, nioiv-
over, to a wider subdivision of labor, wherein lay botli
economy and perfection, but it also made factory liands
more helpless and de[)endent on their employcis.
Econonu' in workin«j: and cheai)noss of results Ix iuir
usually in proportion to the magnitude of ojniatiotis,
mono[)oly was hereby fostered by forcing minoi- and
weaker establishments from the field. Iniproxcd
conmiunication lent its aid to extend the influence of
the larger concerns to remote localities. In trade,
likcnvise, the larger sh(»ps undermined the small .>^liop-
kecper by cconctmy of service and by otlbnng a greater
, varietv of tjoods.

Comix'tition and overstocked markets give em-
ployers frequently no alternative save to reduce wa^es
or suspend work, and the existence of a small body of
idle men in a town suffices by the consc(|uent demand
for emiilovment to lower the earnings of entire classes.
In both cases the blame for the reductiim lies maiidy
with the laborers, who crowd into cities and oiler
themselves as willing tools to capital, instead of striv-
ing, in America at least, to build up their fortunes
iu the country. The prospect of temporary hardship
re)iels most of them, and improvidence tends to dis-
able them.

The wielding of power is too enticing to be resisted
by the employer, and shielded from public ga/.e or
personal responsibility by the mask of corporation, and
by the paid manager, his scruples readily vanish before
the visions of enrichment.

The ctmscience of a corporation is remarkable only
for its absence ; where such a thing as a corpoiate
conscience exists at all it is extremely callous. Tlie
individuality which loses itself in the body coriH>ratc

LACK OF HONOR AND rRINCIPLE.

433

does not scruple to receive the cruelly or illicitly
extol t(;d gains of the corporation.

Here is their creed. Let your watchword be
exi)t'diency. Policy is the best honesty. Strict in-
ti;j,rity does not pay; a little of it, mixed witli policy
\\\\\ suffice as leaven for a large loaf of appearance,
wliicli may be fed to those from whom favors are
(1( sired. Thus credit may be established, and credit
is money — especially where one can cheat one's credi-
tors without too nmch damage to reputation. In
[)riii(iples, winding cross- paths, though longer than
^iiai-lit ones, arc safer and more attractive, and
liciicu in reality are the shorter. Love yourself; hate
your enemies; let neither friends nor sentiment stand
in tlie way of success. Keep within the pale of the
law; forgive your creditors. Finally, clothe your
liiisheliavior insanetiniouious garb, and thus be happy
iiiid virtuous.

Siicli are the principles by which corporations allow
tlioinselves to be guided in extortion and nefarious
transactions. Employes are oppressed, the public de-
frauded, and the authorities hoodwinked. Legisla-
tors are bribed to promote or cover up their schemes;
rivals arc absorbed or subsidized to neutrality ; em-
ployes are subjected to coercion. Combinations and
corners, trusts and other iniquities are imposed upon
the helpless masses. In one instance outlets and
means of comnmnication will be closed or obstructed
to check the competition of rivals, as in the infamous
taeties of the notorious eastern oil company; in an-
otli< r, access to raw resources or finished material will
be impeded by lease or purchase, without intention to
utilize them until the holder finds it convenient. In
this way salt and coal fields have been taken up and
kept closed for the benefit of a few firms in distant
states ; small stock-raisers have been cut t)ff from
water as well as markets ; and so with other branches
of industry. The absorption of competitors is con-
stantly illustrated by railway, steamer, stage, and

Essays and Miscsllanv 28

434

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

;:ifi i:

i^l 'i

tolcgrapli rompanioa. Combinations of difFcront firms
in a trade, for sustainin<^ prices and taxing tliu pcoplr,
are no loss frtMjuent, and are even formed in opru
conventions. Tlic modern ' trusts' find it i»ro(italil(,'
to pension into idleness a number of mine and factoiv
owners out of the gains extorted from the trade. In
this manner may bo extended the list of gigaiiti(;
frauds practised upon the [)ublic.

Unless restriction is imposed, none can tell Avhoc;
monopoly impositions may stop. They extend imt
alone over all industrial and commercial cnteritiisc,
but to the surface and bowels of land and sea, and
may embrace the very atmosphere and suidighl, ns
illustrated by Congressman Phillips in an oriental
story. A speculator applied to a monarch for a lease
of the wind within his domains. This was granted,
much to the amusement of the people. The lau^li
was soon turned against them whc>n a notice appeait 1
forbidding the use of the breezes for navigatien,
windmills, winnowing, and other purposes, ex(e|it
under license or sub-lca.se, in accordance witli the
contract. A general murmur ensued, followed l)y
appeals for a revocation of the absurd lease. The
speculator entered a counter-protest against a repeal
without due compensation for his expenses and pres-
pective profits, as an infringement on one of tlie
dearest privileges of man, pro[)erty rights. The sov-
ereign recognized the validity of the objection. Yet,
as it did not answer to drive the people to desperatt^
measures, a tax was levied to buy off the claimant,
or rather to swell the royal purse.

Aware of the indignation that would fall upon tlinn
if their transactions were made public, many corjieia-
tions keep secret their real accounts, and make reperts
to suit their purposes. Few iniquitous .schemes could
be floated without such precautionary deccjifinn.
What a host of mining and other companies li.ive
drained the pockets of dupes through their fictiuiisl

RKillT.S OF THE rKOPLEJ.

■jns

Society has a riglit to invcstiLjato all oonrorns wliicli
jitltot its wtjll-ljoiiii;. This iiultiuU is ai)|)H('(l hy the
j^niiitiii;^^ of fliartcrs aiul hcciiHcs for railway.s, tclo-
i>;i;i[)lii^, l)anks, insurance! coiiipjinics, inaiiufartui'i's,
and other industrial purposes, as well as for trades-
unions, military, fraternal and henevolent assoeiations.
Till! rii^lits and duties of corporations, whoso ohjectit
is to ht'stow the character and prope-rties of individu-
ality on a changing hody of men, arc by this charter
rcstiictcd to the pur[)oses for which they were for-
mally organizx'd. Tliey may conduct o[)e'ratioiis uiuler
tlieii- own })roclaimed hy-laws, hut as creatures of tho
j^nvernment tluy remain suhject to its laws, and may
l)e restricted or tlissolved when found injurious to
jiiililic weal, or when fiiiling to fulfil the obligations
assumed.

iiailway companies present the most conspicuous
form of incor})oration in the United States for public
lieiiefit, but they have too often proved vam})ires as
Well. The value of railwavs stands demonstrated in
tlie building up of states and cities, as the main chan-
iK Is of interior traffic, cheapening food on one side and
el" ningavenuesforcnrichment on the other,and asthe
Urcat medium for beneficial intercourse. Tliev wcto
cliaitered to construct a public highway and to act as
paMic carriers, and so high an estimate was })laced upon
tlie advantages thereby to accrue to the people that the
;j;uvirnment gave not alone liberal land grants but oc-
casionally advanced money wherewith to aid the con-
sti'uction, w'hilc states, counties, and towns each
('eiitril)uted funds and lots. In many cases the money
tlius obtained sufficed to build the road, so that tbe
ceiupany witliont any real outlay came into the pos-
session of innnensc tracts of land and a valuable bu-i-
ness, both rapidly increasinsjc in revenue.

Aot content with such easy acquisition, such iiui-
iiificent rewards, the managers, once in possession,
turn alike on immediate associates and on the pub-
lic, to plunder friends and patrons cither by insidious

^i. i

436

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

manipulations or brazon trickery and extortion. To
this pernicious end is used the very money and
po\v(>r entrusted to them for individual and gciu ral
benefit.

Both public and private morality liave been ruth-
lessly trodden under foot by these unscrupulous iiirii.
The risinj^ generation is taught tliat any rascalitv
short of that which reaches the prison-cell or the lian;^'-
man's rope, may pro})erly be resorted to in order to
insure success. Truth, honor, honesty, morality, fair-
mindedness, and good citizenship, are obsolete terms,
not to be employed by men in life's battle, but fit
only for the nursery and the Sundaj'-school. Tlius is
iniquity sown broadcast throughout the land.

]-}efore the great modern development in railway-
huilding there were few of those stujiendous frauds in
manipulation and management so comn\on afterwaid.
Tile encn^nous wealth rolled up by government suli-
sidy, stock inflation, and discrimination, arousi d ef
eourse the cupidity of imitators. All over the land,
not oidy in railroads but in all kinds of business, there
was a universal decline in commercial morals.

It is well known that many roads have hem
built by construction companies, on the credit nio-
bilier plan, upon a nominal investment, the grentcr
portion of the shares being distributed as dividends.
Of the capitalization of these roads, not (me dollar in
ten representetl actual investment. Sometimes all
the resources of the company were protected by tlie
builders, who made ccmstruction contracts withtluin-
selvcs at three times the actual cost. And when tlio
road was thus finished tluy would continue the same
course, bleeding the public and leaving the govern-
ment to pay their dcd)ts.

Such dealings with a government whicli had loaned
tliem the money with which to build the road, and with
the people, can be designated but by one word swin-
dling. The government debt from year to year they
would sometimes alter and manipulate in congres;s,

CORRUPTION AND FRAUD.

437

ivadiii^ their agrceiiieiits, pockutiiig everything, pay-
ing little or nothing, and never intending from the
first to pa}' a dollar out of the ample dividends on the
roads which cost them nothing. We teach our chil-
dren that he who borrows without reasonable })rosiiects
(if repayment, borrows dishonestly ; how, then, is it
with those who borrow with the deliberate intention
of never paying ?

Corruption and s[»oliation attend almost every meas-
ure of such comi)anies. Congressmen are bribed to
(ililain valuable com-essions from the general u'overn-
lueiit; local legislators and lesser ofiicials are enlisted
ill like manner to beguile states, counties, and towns
with delusive j)romises; all this tending to gild the
hait held out to the general public. Then, in conmc-
tioii with the fraudulent construction conti'acts by the
managers with themselves, additional debts are accu-
mulated to pass straight into the pockets of the con-
tinuing cli(pio. This is a good opportunity to fright-
en undesirable shareholders, and force them to sill
really valuable stock at a discount; or, as hap[>ens
ill some cases, to sell out to a confiding })ul>lic before
it becomes aware of the depreciated character of the
paper, and then probably purchase at ruinous rates
for further manijtulation. WateM-ed and other fictitious
stock facilitate subsc!(juc!nt speculation, cover up du-
bious transai'tions, and pi'ovide a [)lausible excuse for
the iii'xt raid on the public, iu the shape of exorbi-
tant rates.

Ill this kind of railway buihling, however, tlie peo-
ple, stu[)id and long-sutfering as they are, do in time
begin to fi'cl that the roads which their money have
constructed are not operated in their interest, but in
the interest of the agents with whom they had en-
trusted their funds. Taritl's of fares and freights are
established, based, not on the cost of traniiortation,
liut on the amount that pas.senger traffic and the fVeigJit
on each article will bear without rulhig the same en-
tirely oif their lines.

438

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

.il',

Remote regions, where tliere can be no compctitinn,
are left entirely at the mercy of the managers, wliile
districts accessible to other njatls, or near watt>r routes,
secure transportation at rates which seem ban ly to
pay expenses. Discrimination is also shown toward
[tcrsons and [)laces from which the managers i'N|H(t
other advantages. Corporations follow a similar
])ractic{! against interior manufacturers in order to re-
strict their operations, or kill incipient industries, so
tliat the traffic of the road may not be injured by such
local sources of supply. Nor do they hesitate to re-
sort to persecution where their profits or feelings arc
concerned. Has any town or individual offeiuhd, woo
be to them; the town shall be passed by and another
built in its place; the individual sliall be crushed.

Since the first days of the republic there has hem
no such iniquity attempted by one class of citi/c iis
against another, no such indignity endured b}- a frei . iii-
tclHgent people, pretending to independence and self-
government. It is an insult and an outrage uiion a
city (»r a country, upon tlie merchants, maimfaeturers,
and consumers thereof, upon all the people wlio aic
thus placed under tribute, to pay an unjust ta\ on
every ai'tide of ch'css, every mouthful of food, eveiy
thing that is bouglit, s.)ld, or used.

Competition might remedy many of the evils, hut
it is tht; special policy of such railway management to
prevent competition ])y combinations and pools, with
the s[)ecial object of }>utting under foot all the laws
of traile. To this end the assets of the coi'poration
are freelv used in buvinga controllinu: interest in rival
lines, and then absorbing their traffic, often to the
destruction of districts which had sprung into existi iiee
uiuhn' the early favoring auspices of these roails.
Janu's F. Hudson characterizes the **|)olicy of Imyii;;^
up or bringing competing roads to an agreement, ' as
th(^ "perfection of tyranny."

It is claimed that the iiooling system carries advan-
tages to the public in improved service. And further,

THE POOLING POLICY.

480

sav!^ the railway manager, have we not the same right
as the merchant to aehv advantages and opportunities,
and to charge one customer one price and anotlier
customer another price i Decidedly not. A private
iiK icliant is not a public carrier. But were it so that
tli(( tliscriminations of the merchant affected tlu! riijjhts
and welfare of a community to as great an extent as
tliat t)f a feudal baron, then such merchant should be
put down, even as the feudal baron was long ago put
(litwn. The public benefit derived from ])ooling is
o;:j,lit as compared with the abuses which it covers.

Xo one denies the right of ]»ersons to build railways
with their own money, over lands fairly bought from
the owners, and to charge what they choose; but it is
a moral, and should be a legal, crime to interfere with
others who likewise desire to do business in the same
.scctiitn ; it is a moral, and should be a legal, crime for
the lailways to bribe trans[)ortation companies or other
competitors to charge advance rates in freight so as
to f )ree from the peojtle illicit gains.

On the occasion of collisions between capital and
labor, railroad men complain of secret, oath-bound
oiL;unizations, under despotic officers, refusing to work
tlii'uiselves and ])reventing others fronj doing so, even
ri'sorting to violence and nmrder when so ordered.
It is an absolutism in a re|)ublie, they say, which seeks
to coiiti'ol l)ot]i ca])ital and labor. This seems to be
tlie position of the railroads as wc>ll — absolutism, and
not only the control cl ca[)ital and labor, but the con-
trol of all traffic, of all commerce and manufactures,
of all rights of way, avenues of business, and liberties
and rights of man.

" Xo one denies the right of the laborer to cease
Work," continue tluse railway logicians, "when ti'rms
aiv not satisfactory, but it is a moral, and should be a
le;4al, crime to interfere with otiiers who desire to
woik. The use of force or other wrongful act to pre-
vent the earning of ])ro|UMty iloes not differ in juinci-
I'le from the forcible taking of prt)perty." This is

440

MONKY AND ^fONOrOLY.

I J 1

», \h

,t f^

MiK 1

^"T ^ »

VL I

•i

very true, and applies adinirably to tlic position tiilci !i
by the railroad men in the nianageincut of railroads.

If the people call upon the authorities to rtdrcss
the evil, the railway magnates laugh their clKnts
equally to scorn. Not only are public and private
rights made subordinate to railway influence, Im.t
honesty and morality are thrown to the winds.
Bribery and corruption are openly and unblusliiu'dv
practised. All over the United States these manipu-
lators seem to have no moral sense ; they profess to
have none; they glory in havhig none. They (ip<Mi]y
boast tliat when they want a legislature they buy it.
When they want a judge they buy him. If a com-
mission be appointed to investigate or regulate llicir
acts, they buy it. And as their wealth and power
increase, the cheaper becomes the price of officials, cf
public morality and private honor.

There are many ways of bribing without actually
handing over the money. Judges and legislators arc
mortal like other men. They all want sonuLJiini.;'.
They arc no more satisfied with what they have tlmu
the bonanza or the railroad men. One aspir( s to
high political preferment, and would so warp the law
as to enable him to decide almost any way tnr tlic
votes of a vast corporotion. Another covets Icss' r
distinction — a dinner with Crwsus, various un((»ni-
moii courtesies, a few shares in something profita-
ble. There are a hundn'd wovs to oftcr a bribe: and
if of suitable <iuality and tendered in the right w.iy,
there is sliglit chance of its being refused. There ar(!
many who like Paris scorn the power of Juno and <!io
wisdom of ^Minerva for the fascinations of a Iblrn.
be slie lobbyist or siren. Others, like Danae, are tnu
willing to receive the visits of Jupiter in a shower of
gold.

It seems strange sometimes that the peoplo will
tanjely submit to it. Time was when tliey wen'
quick to discover fraud and insult, quick to rise in tho
defence of their rights and honor. And even now.

A ?USILT.ANIMOUS I'EOPLE.

4(1

slioulcl tlio impositions of monopoly bo put upc.n the
ji(<i|il(! in the namo of unrii^htcous rule or foni^^n in-
torfcroncc tliey would shed tlu'ir last drop of blood in
opposing it. But, done by neighbors, and in the name
ot'conun(>rco, of progress, their own money being em-
ployed to forgo the fetters, to rivet chains on them
more disgraceful to wear than any which ornamented
the serfs of feudalism, they bear it, pusillanimously
licking the hand that smites them.

The fact that <;reat benefits flow from the buildincj
of railroads, does not make right a system of whole-
sale robbery. If railways are a benefit conducted on
disciiminating and unfair bases, would not a gnater
]iul)ru' benefit accrue if they were conducted on hon-
v>t principles i With all great blessings, railways
ai!! all the more a curse when turned from their
projicr uses. Whatever their benefits, if they make
a Jiundred new states, and a thousand pros])erous
citirs, if at the same time they bring demoralization,
(1( ( av, and death to the bodv l>olitic and the bodv so-
(ill, they are a curse. The theory of our govi'rnment,
th;it all power is lodged in the people, and is t(j be
usrd only for the e(|ual benefit of every individual, is
])(rv(i'trd by the discriminations of cori)orations niade
and sup})ortcd by the government.

The railway owes its existence to and is the crea-
ture of the governnunit, and should be promptly
chrckt'd in a course so glaringly in opp)osition to laws,
morals, and })ubhc weal. In the right of eminent
domain is an inii)licd jtrinciple that the land of a
private individual, condcnuied for public us^, must be
used in the interests of the public, and not for the
exclusive benefit of another private indivi<Iual. The
railroad is a public hiohwav, ])uilt huvelv at the; ex-
p'lise of thti ind)lic, and subject to regulation by t!ie
)»ihlic in rates and other resju-cts, in consideration of
tlie j^rivileges and grants accorded to it. When this
creature of the government becomes a conspirator

442

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

ajjjainst the community, it is time the people sliould
assert their sovereignty in the matter.

" lilvery man in the nation ouglit to know," stivs
Hudson, " liow pubhc rights are affected by the abuses
of tlie existing system. To know that corponiiioiis
are powerful and tliat individuals are weak, will nut
suffice. It should bo as familiar to the public mind
as tlie multi[)lication table, how the monopoly of the
railways in transportation enables them to discrimi-
nate in rates, to crush out inde[)endent trade, to ex-
tinguish small merchants, and to dominate great com-
mercial interests; how their combinations to con-
trol industries tend to oppress production and to keep
down wages ; how they sus[)end work through in-
definite periods for selfish ends; how their efforts to
establisli a centralized control over the entire trans-
portation of the land, by a single unauthorized and
irresponsible agency, has resulted, and may again
result, in o[>[)re8sing the consumer of the great agri-
cultural staples while im}>overishing the producer, by
imi)osing artificial burdens upon the interchange of
l)roducts ; and, finally, how the tendency of their
[)ractices, as a system, is to concentrate all the [imtits
and rewards of industry in the hands of a few, while
the [)eople at large have little share hi the benefits
accruing from the march of improvement. If tiiO
railways go on as they have begun ; if they continue
to purchase legislators, to count seats in congress as
their property, and to nominate judges to the higher
courts ; if they continue to warp legislation to the
support of railway sui)remacy ; if they continu<' to
erect artificial barriers to the free operations of great
industries, and to concentrate the profits of connnerce
by their favors to the privileged few; if they continuo
to secure the enforcement of laws which protect their
privileges, and to imllify those which restrict them ;
if they delay and prevent the passage of laws to regu-
late them and restrain tlieir power, and cozen the
public with dcce[)tive measures— in a word, if all tlie

REFORM OR REVOLUTION.

443

fcaturrs wliicli now mark the influence of great cor-
jioi'.itioiis in })olitio.s are maintained and porpetuatetl,
in defiance of efforts to restrain them by peuci'ful
iiuaiis, the result will inevitably be, that one day
tlitir injustice and usurpatij)n will be punished by a
revolt t)f the classes they have wronged, beside which
tli(> l''ren('h revolution will seem an equitable and
jH'ueefiil reform."

Tlie franchise of a railway, as a public highway,
sliould not be used for gain save for public benefit.
Tlie road should remain subject to the sui)ervision of
tlie 'j,()vernment, and be used by all citizens on equal
terms, without discrimination or respect to places or
jHisons to and from which business is tendered.
Xevertheless, there is a loophole for excesses in the
l;ititu(le to accept low rates in order to secure business,
;ui(l to levy higher rates on a costly road than on one
(if comparatively easy construction. These points
alone, together with the need in general for super-
vi>i()U of so important a public institution, call for
yovernment interference of more effective character
than lias so far been displayed.

Among ])roposed remedies is government ownership
of railways, as existing in some parts of Euro))c. But
until our politics are purified, monopoly is tlie lesser
evil. The worst feature of government management
in this rejniblic, which is less strict than in France,
would arise in rings, jobberies, and other corruption
by unseruitulous politicians imbued with the spoil sys-
tem. When we consider the extent of the present
))ril)ery, vote-selling, spoliation, and other infamies
among officials and legislators, what might not \)v ex-
)!' tted when the control of additional intircsts, in-
volving thousands of millions of property, were sur-
I'endered to such hands? Other reasons might be
acMucod to stamp the plan as hopeless under existing
conditions.

This is the view taken by ]\rr Hudsoti, who ]^vo-
posed, instead, the opening of railways, like turnpike

iilHi

' I

i\:

i''':

it'lf

444

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

roads, for free public use, the railway companies cm.
structingaud luaiutaining the lines in good order, Nviili
repairing and inspecting forces, signal-men and the likr,
leaving to any public carrier to operate passengir inul
freight trains, each competing with the other for imi)-
lic patronage by offering special dispatch and haudliii^,
superior comfort and attractions, as in the case < t'
stages and steamers. Tliis system looks i)lausil)lc;
but the objections arc that the railway comi)any would
retain as much latitude as ever in favoriny: certain
carriers, with profitable connivance, and with Uss r* -
sponsibility for obstructions and accidents, when tlitse
could so readily be shuffled from one shoulder to an-
other. Moreover, the company which controls tlir
road could clearly enough, with its primary advan-
tages, operate trains with greater dispatch and cheap-
ness, and would do so surreptitiously to the disadvan-
tage of ordinary carriers and consequently to the \)u\>-
lic. The restriction of companies to mere road toll
would check enterprise and retard the extension of
such costly work to remote or isolated regions, and
hhider the develop ncnt of settlements. Finally, tiiis
system has been tried elsewhere, not alone in the jiar-
tial degree occasionally practised in this country, wIkk
several companies use one line for a certain distance,
and it has not been found to answer.

Another remedy is suggested in a freer competition,
even within the limits assigned to certain railways,
when these fail to conform to stipulations. 8u( li
competition has unfortunately not proved enduring,
for the stronger company has generally succeeded in
crippling or driving into bankruptcy the obstinate
rivals by a prolonged reduction of rates below a re-
nmnerative basis, or it has persuaded the others to
enter into secret or open combination, unless it could
acquire a controlling interest in their manageniciit liy
purchase.

Railway commissions have been appointed to fix
rates, to enquire into discrimination, and to wuteli

GOVERNMENT INTERPOSITION.

445

over public interests generally, but how unsatisfactory
thiii' uiinistration has been is attested by the frequent
ami wide condemnatitm of their acts and attitude. It
is lUDst difficult to ensure such a body against the in-
sidious approaches of a powerful corporation.

Official weakness and corruption stand in the way
of all public reforms. To the government nmst wo
nevertheless look for redress, whatsoever the proposed
plan of reform may be. More effective laws nmst bo
])assed to regulate traffic on railways, and a special
department at Washington, removed from local in-
fluences at least, should be entrusted with the task of
watching over their observance and applicability, in
order to report amendments for eliminating obstruc-
tions and improving the valuable features of such
laws. Its power could probably not bo extended over
state commissions and state regulations, but the re-
fi)nn achieved in inter-state communication alone, the
most important under consideration, would be of great
benefit, and serve as a standard for inter-state man-
oi.>enient, so patent to all as to greatly enforce com-
pliance, even with a corrupt local commission.

Reform is needed also in other directions. Besides
the three great monopolies, which are fast uniting
i,ito one, railroad, telegraph, and express — there
are other monopolies with power likewise unscrupu-
lously wielded, which is dangerous to the American
people. In the great corporations constituting these
uionopolies is every essential element of despotism —
))ennaiient privileges, with legal rights and accunm-
lated powers, superior to law and society. It is the
lust for power, the most ominous among humanity's
vices, a power which shall make one man master and
many men slaves, that is the governing principle in
all iniquitous monopolies.

Fastening themselves on federal, state, county, and
town governments and courts, like leeches they suck
the life's blood of the nation, leaving iu a weak, inert,

fi'l

449

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

and flabby thing. Worse than this. Into the i|>er-
ture thus made tliey inject a subtle poison, wliich,
though it may work slowly, works surely. Tlio tiiiio
will come when this truth will be recognized by nil:
these iniquitous monopolies must die, or the nation
will die. The people of the United States arc a ji;i-
tient, lontjf-suffering race, but when fairly aroused no
social, political, or hidustrial enormity can stand up
against them. It is for the people to look for tliciii-
selvcs into all these nu.tters, and determine whcthi r
they will be bond or free.

Society has a right to enforce the doctrine of per-
fect equivalents in all bargains affecting its hit< ivsts,
be it in charters, patents, licenses, in the manufacture
and disposal of wares, hi the intentional or accidental
control of large resources, natural or artificial, or in
the aim and attitude of all maimer of associations.
Corporate privileges are a public trust, to be resunud
by the people when detrimental. Hence all \ni\i\lc
organizations should be under supervision of the au-
thorities, with free access to their books, so as to }iiv-
vent all confidence operations, niisrepresentations,
and inflations. Disbursements should be duly ac-
counted for, as well as the reason for loans and tlio
apjilication of profits. In many instances interfrr-
ence may not be advisable until a suffi<"icnt nunilicr tf
members demand investigation. In other cases the
investigation should be periodical. Regulations
should embrace the suppression of stock-ganihliiii,',
and all business conducted on bases of chance or nii.s-
representation.

Mill objects to the concentration of manufactures
and other industrial branches in the hands of a few.
Equally undesirable is the accumulation of iniinensu
wealth b}' individuals. To place a limit on acquisition
might deal a blow to enterprise, but taxes could ho so
regulated as to fall heaviest on those best able to hear
them, that is, tliey could be increased in proportion

DESPOTISM OF WEALTH.

447

to the fortune possessed, without hainpcnn«^ the
taloiited and industrious,or unduly burdening coipora-
tioiiH tliat liave worthy objects in view. This idea is
jijiplic'd in many countries in tiio excniptloii of incomes
Itrlow a certain amount, and in tlio usual subjection
of hixuries to duties iu preference to necessities.
NcveiHieless the enforcement might be widened and
made stricter. The case with which assessors at
pn sent allow rich men to escape from paying their
rij^htful share of taxation is shameful.

It is becoming a serious question in V s country,
liow nmch wealth it is safe for one man to control.
If with five millions legislators may be corrupted,
judges and juries bought, the laws trampled under
foot, as is done before our eyes every day, how nmch
of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happuiess may be
diverted from constitutional channels by the possessor
of a hundred millions? How many white, freeborn
American citizens docs it take to make a million of
dollars? When we consider that the majority of
iiiiniense fortunes have been accumulated by specula-
tion, tinged, more or less, with pernicious gambling
and fraud, to the impoverishment and oppression of
tliousands, and when we behold capital resort to
practices damaging to the citizen; when it resorts to
unjust monopoly, bribery, and moral, political, and
connnercial corruption, practices more damaging to
the commonwealth a hundred fold than murder, high-
way robbery, and all the rest combined, may not
tliosG who made the laws change them to meet the
emergency ?

As a rule, inequalities in fortunes receive a natural,
readjustment in the distribution among children. Yet
this is not effective in all cases. A tendency is mani-
fested among rich men hi the United States to imitate
the primogeniture system of Europe. France struck
a mortal blow at this custom during the revolution,
as the basis for the maintetiance of an objectionable
aristocracy of nobles and drones. Primogeniture and

' i! ■

MONKY AND MONOPOLY.

clasH privilojifcs are utterly inconsistent witli rcpuMicaii
ideas, and indeed witli social interests. Some tlicoiists
advocate the reduction of hereditary fortunes liy tax
on lej^acios which sliould be so increast'd with each >ub-
SL'<(uent transnnssion as to leave coujparativt'ly little,
say for the fourth generation. Enforcements wnuld
1)0 dirticult, yet some such remedy would he welcome,
f )r it is undeniable that idlers, supported by inhi rikd
wealth, sc;t a batl example to society, and form a
j>hase of monopoly, exactin*^ a tax from their inij^h-
bors for tlic use of land, houses, money, or otiicr pos-
sessions, of which an accident of birth has made tluni
masters. What most <rrate3 upon the feelinj^s of tjie
loss fortunate is this acquisition by accident, in per-
petuity, of what is denied or meagrely acc(»rdic[ to
worth and ability. They desire that all citizoiis
should do their share of labor and produce aonu'tliiiii,'.

The mo.st objectionable feature of accumulation
consists in the monopoly of land. As the main
source for the food of all, it should apparently In- for
the benefit of all. Its primary acquisition rests u[)()n
unjust might, upon the 8Wt)rd between nations. Con-
querors apportioned between themselves the subju-
gated territory, even if they did not also enslave the
people. In Egypt the humbler and conquered classes
never wore allowed to regain any portion of the soil, for
it remained with the king, priests, and soldiers, tlie
vitality -absorbing drones of the nation. The Sj-an-
iards in A.morica held largely this position, and the
Anglo-Saxon has been free with the sword if not
with the yoke. In India, where no proprietory rights
in land existed, they have sought to create a land-
holding aristocracy.

The ownership of land is dear to our race, and has
proved one of the strongest incentives to progress.
Nevertheless, the time may come when exclusive
rights therein may be declared detrimental to })ublic
weal. The crofter troubles in the northern part of
Great Britain have created a ireneral sentiment that

LAND-IIOLDINd.

419

good land should not be withheld for usoloas personal
iiurposcs, where the conununity requires it tor «ub-
sisti lue. It also seems unn'ttsonahle that one nuin by
viitiu! of accidental discovery, or first occupation,
should claim exclusive right to large tracts for his
tiimily, in perpetuity, when future generations may
\>v sorely in need of a share.

Tiie acquisition of land should undoubtedly be re-
stricted to limited holdings. The rule enforced by the
ivi)ul)lic for homestead and preemption grants, this
coutury and more, which concedes a title only upon
proofs of occupation and cultivation, might well be
i\teii(led to all hind-hoIders. Indeed, that rule points
til tlio eoimnunal interest in the soil, by reijuiring a
• uhhI nse to be mad(i of it. It is the patrimony of the
nation for the benefit of all its children, not of a few.
Most reprehensible and injurious is therefore the loose
system in the United States which has permitted rich
iiK'ii, foreigners, and speculators, to absorb so nmch of
the richest lands in areas unlimited, while the poor
man lias been kept strictly to the letter of the law.

TliC remedy for this abuse lies in equalizing the
taxation or rather unjust assessment, so that holders
nf uncultivated tracts in a cultivattid district may be
foroi'd by the burden to make good use of it oi" sell it
to those who shall do so. It may be well also to
liasteu the reduction of large estates, especially inher-
ited, l)v increasing the taxation with the size of the
tract, as Mr Philli[)s proposes. In connnon with Mr
(jcorgo he is opposed to ownership in land, and urges
tliat it he merely leased to the highest l)idder, with
traiistiiission of possessory rights under condition of
;j,ood use. Taxation would as a rule enforce the
latter stipulation.

Ill England taxation has of late assisted in reducing

111* • •

liokhngs, and augmenting the shares of the masses.
In iManee the law against primogeniture has hastened
tlie distribution, and tho increased prosperity resulting
from a large class of peasant proprietors, numbering

Essays and MiscEi,r.ANY 2i

Blliiiiiiill

!f3 i

4r)0

MONEY AND MONOrOLY.

■! 'i

about four millions, demonstrates tlio advantn^c of
small holdinijjs alike to the country and the individuuls,
Thi'Y])r(>ni()tcals()bcttcrcultivationan(linipr<)V( iiK Ills,
increased i)roduction, and higher wages, the latti r hv
the constant advance of laborers to propriitoisirm.
The elevation of labor by this means is one of the nidst
])romising phases of American progress. The gnnti r
the niunber of land-owners, the greater the int( k st
in the nation's weal and in tiie pri'servation of ptacr.

It may be objcH'ted that our im|)roved n'achiii.iv
and methods render cultivation cheaper on laiv"
tracts. Wher(> this becomes evident, as in I.'irgc val-
leys, farmers may unite in cooperative eti'orts as wi 11
as purchase of imj»roved machines. E.Kpcriiiirinal
efforts on a small or large scale niay l)e entrusted to
agficultuj'al societies. Such eoml>ination of iiitetvsts
cannot fail to benefit everyone concerned, by inctiiti\t',
method, and increased j)rofits, besides achievingall the
a Ivantages claimed for large operations.

•Fudicious taxation for the jiurpose of reducing large
holding's is evidentlv in fav(»r of the masses and of
general jtrospcrity. NevertheU'ss I cannot agree witli
Mr (jieorii-e's scheme of burden in«j: the land alone with
the entire ta.\ levy of the country, for such a tax wouU
fall heaviest on the main necessaries of life, and cen-
sequently on the ])oor. 1 luxuries can better sustain
a larger share of the burden, as untler our present
svsteni, and should do so, if onlv for the moral beneiits
tlun'eby attained.

In connection with the general n^form nmst enter
a nund)er of accessory or sulioi'dinate i-egnlations,
such as the restoration and extension of timber reui"ii"^.
in return for access to their resources; and the ap]ior
tionment of pastures so that scanty water deposits
may not fall to a few. Water should even more tlian
land be for the general l)enefit. This has becMi rcceo--
ni/ed by several nations in enactments which reseiv(^
for the public not alone navigai)le rivers but all run-
ning stnvims. In England riparian laws pre\ail, and

THE WATEIl ri;i)l'.LE.\[.

451

liave been adopted in the ITiiitod States, because tlie
l>ii)l)leiii of irrigation has not entered hito seiious con-
sideration until lately. Now, tlie conditions are
( lutiii^ing witii the occupation of tlie Iloci\y niountain
ivL;ioii and the Pacific slope, once regarded as deserts,
l)Ut proved to be rich hmd if reclaimed l)y irrigation.
Tills re(|uires fi-eo access to water. It becomes evi-
dent tliat laws framed for Ji country not dependent on
water-channels for cultivation should not be applied
t>»a I'cgion whicli is so dependent, t)wing to scanty or
uiie(|iially distributed rain-fall. Tlie aim oi' laws
is til promote the con)inon go<»(l, an i must naturally
li" adjusted to suit changing conditions. Ilules gov-
t'lMJng a nomad jx'ople or regulating slavery are in-
;ip|)r()priati! for settled fri'emen. Wlien; laws have
hei'oine injurious th«y nnist bo amended. The ob-
joctions of a few riparian property-liolders must not
stand in the way of tlu; j»r(^speiity of entire districts,
or imperil the existence of entire coinnumities. Else-
wlieri' I have considered the reasons and local jtrece-
dcnre f»r amending riparian laws, and the methods f"»
arri\ ing at a proper distribution of available waters.

The most encouraging pliasc of ])rogress since
mediicval times has been the elevation of the masses,
ti) which the invention of gunpowd(>r, conij»ass, and
printing-press gave the great impulse*. T\\\^ amelio-
ration is constantly augmenting undc-r the daily a<ldi-
timisto id»;as, nietlp ds, and machinery, for duvipening
t'nod, incrca-iing ctiniforts, and s[)reading eiilighteii-
iiicnt. I'he Iran: f )rmatioii has been especially marked
dui'in^ the last half centniy, and to tli(> suddenness of
t!ic change, beyond all expectations, and in advance of
knowledge wherewith to frame restrictivt* laws, nmst
he asoribtid such attendant evils as mono|)o!y, o))j)res-
sioii of factory hands, and the like. The greaicT the
present excess, however, the rpiicker will come the sur-
t<it. andtlie swifter the scattering and the deliverance.

Mill believes that the relation of master and work-

' '* '

■k '

»''■

1::

^; ,

■1 ,■

.>i

;*i

111 'V ii

403

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

men will be gradually superseded by partnerships, hy
associations of workmen with cai)italists, and of woik-
men alone, the latter to predominate in due tiiiK;.
As the toilin;^ labor of to-day is entitled to greater
consideration than the ca[)ital of yestrrday, so itsfiiis
just that labor should by }»reference be controlled liy
organized labor — be indepi-ndent, self-governed. Co-
operation has so far not succeeded well in industrial
branches, from a lack of the necessary training in
self-control and self-reliance. The solution lies cliitlly
with such associations as the trades -unions, wliitli
sprang up among the working people when tlie guilds,
undermined by capital, fell into exclusive ha mis.
They have of late assumed huge [)roportions, corn s.
pondhig to the growth of antagonistic monnpdly.
Harmony and proper organization are still the de-
ments wanting for success. A great stride foiwaid
has been taken in the fi^deration of hitlierto scatteiiil
unions, for nnitual relief as well as uun'v etleetivc
action. The absunlity and failure of so many strikes,
even when encouraged by the federation, imiicatc
the lack of an efticient head. The members of unions
shoidd learn a lesson from the administration of tlio
re[)ublic, with its representative and legislative c(inii-
cils and its executive, and the patient submission of
the pco})le to their direeiions. which constitute tlit>
supposed wish of the majority. Dissatisfaction with
existing enactments can be expressed in the elti iloii
of better repi'esentatives. With intelligent considc ra-
tion of pendiiig <piestions by a council, sustained ly
harmonious cooperation among the members, ciiois
will be avoided and satisfactory suee(>ss achiex-.d.
Discord nmst above all be eschewed in the face of tlio
stupendous struggh^ bef )rc them. Nationalities have
been undermineti therel)y no less than social and in-
dustrial bodies.

Such an organization, when duly perfected, couM
aid the establishment of c..<>j;viativ(> works in dill't I'liit
branches and localities, and issue general rules for th' ir

oiu;anizi;d coorEiiAXioN.

'^n'uhuce. It could, like any government, call for
lr\ it'S or loans wlarowitli to provide plant and work-
ing- ciipitul. Proposed cooperations might for that
matter <»btain credit from outside sources, when once
((•iitideneo has been infuseil by judicious and res})on-
sililc organization, whether this be of federal or ( en-
tral tvpe, un(h'r the direct su))ervision (»f one general
(•(Uiiicil, or of special councils for eacli bran(h of in-
dustry, lender the guidance of similar assemblies
may bo atljusted the relations between employers and
(Mii|il(yi'd, or between associated workmen and capi-
talists. The; interior managi'ment of cooperative con-
(ci'iis should in turn be subject to its own eh'cted
(•(iiiiifil and constitution, with the necessary otlicials.
Ill iiiic, a good republican form of govi-rnment ap-
; 'its admirably to industiial organizations. ^Vithout
\\i>e rule and due submission arise corruption and
aiiaicliy. ]^ut even here, as in any well-regulated
iriiuhlic, there should not be indiscriminate voting.

Association of this character W(»uld be able to stu<ly
markets, methods, and other conditicMis with gieat
ctKct, by maintaining i-xchange of ideas with similar
t'nrcign bodies, as merchants and manufacturers en-
deavor to d«) under |)ri'sent defi ctive arrang^'nients.
( >iii good result woukl be to check the over-}»roduc-
tinii wliich now manifi'sts itself in jieriodic stagnation,
liaiikriijitcies, and disti'ess, with occasional severe
jiaiiics. Another would be to obviate siitfering among
<'|uiatives by pointing out the condition, avenues, and
j.i(i-.]i( cts of trade. For that matter ctxijieration or
[iii)t.('(tive associations could readily be extt'nded to
tin ]iensi(W» s} stem now organized by the; (hrman
,Uii\rrnment, and, faither, to an e<|uabli' division of
lain If and pnifits, with a corres[>on<ling i-eduetioii in
W' iking liours and incn^ascul leisure for impi'o\ing
Jiiid eniovable entertainment. The constant invi ntion
"t lali(ii'-savin<j: macliinerv tends natnrallv to such re-
duitidii. and tli<> growing (>ase of intei'ceai'se assists to
v>il(l the nations into one brotherhood. Similar mil-

454

MONEY AND MONOPOLY.

ft' 111

lennial tlumgh by no means visionary motliods can
evidently he applied to commerce, agriculture, and
other industries.

The ohjectioii rises that such co!n])inations tend to
the per]K(tuution of new [)hase8 of monopoly, as ex-
hibited in fact by trades-unions in many directions, ly
iiijnrious strikes and other arljitraiy ])ro<'eediiitis.
Hut the remedy lies with the government, wlinsc
anticipated nuuisures may, as we hoj>e, soon rdii vc
us from the present abuses by capital mono[)iily.
Questions not readily reached in that manner can un-
doubtedly be settled by a[)})eals to tlie ii:l( lli;;eitt
councils and heads of the coming corporations and
federations, with settlement bv conr.non-seiise aiul i»v
the simple arbitration which is rapidly gaining {'aver
among all classes.

Thc^ foremost consideration must of course be fcr
the interest of the greatest number, for the coiiinio!'
good, and to this nmst be subordinate the aspirations
of more classes, although with due regard f >r nunoiity
re(p.iir(Mnents. Inventions are hailed by all, as ti nd-
in'»' to increase the sientM'al welbbeinLf and enio\in( tit.
When nuudiinery revolutionizes a certain bran( h of
industry and tiirows a number of peo])Ie out of \\:irk,
a class must suHer f«»r the public welfare, and adjust
itself to new conditjcns. Tiie strong and i'i(di Ilk. \\i-'
must restrain their aspirations for exressi\e weali !i and
]>ovver. and ft)r the enjoyment of luxuriv-s w]ii( h uia\'
injure other <dass(\s, or come in ccnfliet witli tin; re-
f ii'ukmI national principles. To su< li sacrifice and ah-
steiiance n)ay in du(^ time bo accorded nnvards bivond
the plv>asing consciousness of social duty perfonneii. to
the furtherance of ha[»[tine.ss and of general progress.

feU

CHAPTER XY.

LITER ATUKK OF CENTRAL AMERICA.
Tout lidiiiitio t':jt furme pur buu »iticle ; bien puu yeluvoiit au-(le»su3 dea

— VoWiire.

Under the hcadliiinj of literature T ])r()p<)se to em-
bviicv not alone the tile'^ant and iM»a<;iiiuti\ c\ hut to
snnic extent tlie scientilie and instructive hranelios
of rite sultject, in order to convoy a clearer \\v\v of
tlii' i>rou,'res.s made in tliis fartliest west toward the
lii.:lnr realms of autho]'shi[). This i>econies particu-
iai Iv (h'sirahle in tlie infancy of literature, and iji coun-
tlii s whtnv th(3 ])ractical and didactive pri'doniinates;
wii ro unsettled conditions ))orniit little attention
to arts tliat depend for peifect devflopnient on the
Icisuse and refinement centritiiij in j^nat cities. In
Mt'\i((> we hehold one such centre, for Spanish Anier-
iei; in San Francisco anotliei" is formiuL*" f"i' the An-
jilii-Saxon possessions. Ii! hnth, the i'osterin_L( co-elti-
ciriit^; have eticountei-cd formidai»le ohstach's.

The cultivation of letters has here l»e»n spasmodic
Mild tiratie. In iiatin America .-v Idii*^' |H'riod of colo-
nial tiitela'^f, witii ri^id censorship, tnllowtd In' dis-
trartinLj,' civil waix, has had a i'i'tardin«4 etK'ct. aui>-
JiKiitt'd hy the indoleiiee and snpcrliciality pi'r\ailini4'
aiiiDMiJi; the people. North-W( stward, the youtiifLdin'ss
(if the states, the pre-occnj)ation with mines and other
industrial r(!Sourc<'s, home liuildin;^, and the eat^er
|M!rsijit of trade and s|»e<'idation in the mitro]M)lis,
pifclude so far any wide ctforts to s(>t aside- the over-
sliadnwin''' intluence of the eastern states.

U«r)

406

LITKRATUKE OF CKNTRAL AMITJCA.

ii;?!

On the other hand exist many favoring elenu uts.
In Spanish America the religious orders, as elsevvlitiv.
hccame the de[Msitories of knowledge and tlie traincis
ufahost of orators and \vriters, from ainony: wIkhi
issued many a brilliant liy-ht to illuminate tvcrv il-
juirtment of literature. The most interesting fcatmv
is the presence of an aboriginal factor, which in line
left its impress on the })nKlnctionsof anew, eompositt',
and vivacious race, tending lo a (le[arture from \\n -
rian models by presenting ncM' thcnus and fresli iii-
s[>iiation, patriotic and social, and by adding a l<av( ti
to the admixture of central and ^vostern Euro}>iaii
styles, wherewith to foster the creation of a new-
school.

Northward the favoring causes nmst be sought in
strange eiivironment, jx'culiar incidents, and abnoiinjil
develo[>ment, which, acting on a cosmopolitan medli y
of select rej)re.-cntatives from diflerent nationalities,
have unfoldetl a dash and eneigy unpaialh led. as
manifested hi great id(^as, novel exjieriments, and vast
undertakings. These traits have extended to litda-
ture, and the' success achieved in several directions
hold out the most flattering ]iromises for the futiiiv,
in original juid varied as well as ])rolific eflbrts.

The minds of both regions have })een primarily cast
in (\'jstern moulds, those of Calilbrnia mainly in the
Atlantic states centring round Boston and New Voik,
which again draw m* little inspiration from the liai!.--
oceani(t shores. The ] I ispan(»-Americans yielded t"< r
centuries a slavish adhereme to the one mother c<»un-
try .v'hose soui'cc s and models still remain their }iiiii-
cipal shrines, notwithstanding the influence of varir.l
intercourse duiing the last six decades, and the ail
mission of other types.

In both regions the early <lalibling in literature, and
inileed much of the subse(|Utnt iierformanccs, were
neccssarilv due to immiurants, so that the local claim
fotlieii- ownership stands in (piestionable light. Tli-tse
efforts do, nevertheless, belong largely here, inspiicd

PHYSICAL IN'FLUKXCKS.

487

iui<l framed as tJiev wore bv new environments in
nature and soeiety, without wliieli tliey would never
have Ix'conu! manifest. Kaeli turniid Itesiiles an in-
centive an<l st.indardforsueeeedinjjj |n<Mlueti<»ns, wliieli
r.ijiidly followed amid new interest.-s and luw li«»nie^,
in no eonteniptible rivalry with the exhibits of the
mother soil.

Mi'xico, as the capital from the hegimiinu; of a vast
and rich state, JHcame thi; )>iilitieal lit-ad of all Siumish
Aincrlea nortli of the Isthmus, and continues the
social and intellcetual centre. N(."vertlule.<s, tho
region bi'tween l^anjinia and ( Juatemala takes prece-
dence in both clironolo^ie and Ljeo'^iaphie oi'der for
review, as the fountain if not the scene for historical
ami scientific reports, oratorical and tli(M)loi;ical ])ro-
duttions, and even poetic eifusions, for about two
dtcades prior to the discovery of Xew Spain.

The novelties of aspect and circumstances cropping
out at every turn wen; a constant source of inspira-
tion. And wliat a panorama is presented to the
jii.storian as well as tJie poet in CV'utral America, with
its varied fields for comjuests, its diversity of phys-
ic al conditions, from miasmatic coast lands to hi;j;h
plateaux and lofty ranijjes crowned by sniokiiiijf volca-
iiois; a reoion ofttMi stirred by eruptions and e.ii'th-
miakes, wiiih! nature otherwise lies masked in all the
luxuriance of trojilc vegetati(»n, alive with sonijj fi'om
I'irds of brilliant i>lumaj.:;e, aL;low with biiL^litness from
a suidit .^kv, and fanned bv etesian zeIlh^■rs. Two
vast oceans bathe the windinj^ shoi'es, on one side with
• Itiickeiiiin;' currents from the orient, tlie c-i'adK' of civ-
iiization, whicli seem to t^voke a resj)onse in tin;
iiuinerous evidences of life and culture, while the eom-
parativelv infei'ior tvoes and h ss allurino: features of
t!ie eastern slopes retlect lather the dark continent
fi'oiitin'j: it Thus we find here tluMuder. naked Jisher
trihes, larLit'ly mixed with ne;4-i'o ))lood, while in tlu^
adiolnino- lake-dotted Nicaraojua fl urishes a people as
advanced as any in S[)anish America, Furtlier north

I'l iMibtitt

468

UTERATUTIE OF CFXTllAL AMERICA.

1"^ n'

this race lias inlicritod tlio ^l(»ii«)us ]»rt'sti«jj»i of such
ancient nations as tiio Quiches and Cakcliicjuels, tanK;d
for liiufii culture and yjreat achievenuiits.

This culture is above all indicatrd in the ithonctic
elements of the picture-writin*.' with which prit stlv
ch rollick' rs recorded myths and rites, heroes and iu]< is,
incidents and institutions. Of a more coin|il<,\ fmiii

MVc

than the Nahua hiero<i;l\ phics, the Maya hool
unf(»rtunately remained sealed to us, d('S[»it«! the tlinrts
made l»y Landa and Brasseur de Boui'boui*^ tow arc!
deci}thering them.' The? esoteric nature of tlicse
records, however, tended to strengthen trnditional
knowledge; among the people, and to this we arc in-
debted even in A/tec matters for most of the iidbriDa-
tion relating to times before the conquest.

A type of ^faya writing is pic^seiited in the I'ainil
Villi of the Quiches, transcribed from memory in tlic
vernacular, but in lloinan letters, by oik; or hkhc
well-informed natives. It tells of the creation ot'tlic
World, as understood by this peo[ile, the ])i'(igri ss <if
culture, the wanderings and struggles of their own
national heroes, and the growth i^'( the Quiches. The
religious element jiredominates throughout, witli a
striking intonation of the mysterious, the tdiihle,
which form the chief characteristics of the worsliip.
These fi'atures, indeeil, si'cni to cast their dread sjiell
on the narrator's, who tell the storv with a niaikid
awe that weighs heavily upon tlieir s[tirits, and allows
little of the loftv soaring that allures and transpoits

the reader of similar Hellenic lor

lere is nioiv

aj>j>ro\imation to the sterner, cold-bloodi'd incidents
in the Scandhiavian mvtht)logv, vet without the Im.M
and grand conce[)tions of the free and hardy N

nn'ii.

A sadiu>ss pervades every page, denoting

the regretful musing of a con(|uere<l rac(>, fallen t'l ini
high asj)irations, and deprived of its ( herished iiislitii-
tions, than one whose spirit has beei' l;roken und' i'
long centuries of despotic rule and cruel rites. Tin'
trait is stron-^lv marked to this dav.

AKORIOINAL UECOllDS.

480

Not only is the (liction ratljor bald tlirougliout, but
the plirascolonjy is stilttd. Tlic writer appears too
derply impressed l)y bis farts to permit mucb dii;res-
simi toward cither dramatization or embellisiimeiit.
The inferiority in these respects is due ji^reatly to the
iiilliieiir«^s already mentioned, and it becomes more
marked by comparison Avitli the traitsof northern
Indians, free in their vast buntin<jj-<;r(mnds and less
dominated by the terrible in religion. Limited as
their vocabulary may be, it finds a ready flow in di<j-
nifu'd and even majestic harangue, full of beautiful
imagery.

Nevertheless there appear scenes in the Poy>/J llth
'vhich stir even the <4rovellini>' serf The first dawn-
iiii;' of tlio sun evokes for instaiice an eftbrt to depict
its splendor. ** (ireat is my brilliancy. Before me
have nien to walk and to stand still, for my eyes are
of silver, respleinlent like precious stones, stones which
are L;reen like the litavens/ My nostrils gleam like
the moon. ]\ry throne is of silver; and the earth
hri^litens as I advance. I am sun and moon for the
I'nlii^htenment of my vassals."

In the very first line we perceive the bending of
the awe-strieken adorer instead of tlu.' lofty pti'sin of
tlie inspired admirer. The similes have a barbaric
and circumscribed stamj) instead of soaring grandeur,
and poverty of language! is indicated in re[)etition as
well as in the use of green for blue or azure. Select
]iaragrn[)hs like the above are not very fre(|uent, still
a certain ixx'tic oriiiinalitv shines forth now and then,
and tin; strides toward ehxjuence, while sliort and
unsustained, and due largely to tlie translator, are
]ieiveptil)le also in tlie em])hasis so frequently though
(TiKh'ly employed, notably in the addresses and
invocations.

Whatever may be the faults of style, the native
records are full of themes as varied and alluring aa
those that stirred the medi'jcval romanciers and trou-

(V:

ilV'.BS'l

; r

4G0

UTEUATUIiK (IF IKXTRAL AMERK^A.

baJoura. We find iiulicjitioiis t'iu)U<j;li in tlie i)n<>os of
Ovicdo, Las Casus, and otlur early writers en aluiriLj-
inal t'r.ncs, but they are mere glimpses, and t»> the
cH'orts of later resident autln)rs are we cldeMy in-
debted tor a fulka* dis[>lay of tlio subject. It is \>y
jio means so thorouyfli lM>wever as in manv Xuliiiu
recor<ls. These men eanK- t(«> late to reseui? umic
than I'raijfnu'nts ofeithei' ree()rdsor traditions iVom tlif
ravau'es of time and fanatie'sm. The inroads Iuim'
continued to oui' days. I|fli(>;i,,us bioy-otrv vitl<l(il
tile fitninoHt place to military marauders and j>it-
judiced chroniclers, and the result is a defieii-nc y nl'
|)ubli(! and piivate archives that is appallintjj. (jiujite-
inala alone pi'csented at the close of the oolotiial jieiiod
a collection at all worthy of sui-h a teiin, and this had
to snller at the hands of invaders undi'r Itnrl>i<lr,
M(»r!4an, and others, with foreign lelic hunters in the
wake;'

Such general neglect could bj associated only will)
a criniiiial indiHTa'enco for literary treasures; and thi;^
lias been tin; caso until recent times, when nn n hke
S'luior anil Brasseur <Ie Bourbourg set a beneficial
ex.iu)|)le in resisarch and in collecting. Similar jut-
vi >us attempts were isolated, and as a rule (rircct.tl
toward s )mo s])ccial ol)ject, as writing a history or
olab )rat ^ rep )rt with a view to personal faiiK^ or |)rolit.
The rejuMted demands from Spain for histoi-ic mate-
rial gave no doubt an impulse, but it was ahiMst
wholly confined to colonial incidents and condition^,
vnth little or no rcvgard for aboriginal times; am!
Kurop Niii Si)a,niards obeyed the call more tliaii
Creoles, who should have manifested the greater
interest.*

The intellectual revival inaugurated toward the end
of the ct'ntury in the colonial possessions of Spain, and
which in (Tuatcmala receiv(>d its cue from Mexico,
WIS directed almost wholly to the acquisition of ii' w
sciiuitific and philosophic learning by the higher classes,
with a slight general dissemination of more practnal

WRITINGS OF TIIK POXQUKRORS.

401

Knowledge. In Aiuihiiac abori^jfiiial subjects received
\i TV iiaturallv a jjood deal of attention at the same
tiiiir; but in Central Aincriea the etlurts in this field
wen; eomparativily t'ceble, i>artly beeauw the field
|»i(.>ed less varied, partly because less material ex-
i.>t"(l to I'orni a base for research, and to alluie and
l^uide the investigator. There were also less j>oj)ula-
tieu, wealth, and emulation to encourage anti(|uarian
au'l historic labor.

The scattered and fragmentary nature of th(^ con-
trihutioiis to the colonial history should liave proved
incentive enough for a more complete and comprc hen-
sive account, replete as those writings are with .stir-
ring incidents, often related in a manner b<»tli gra[)hic
and elo(pient. For instance, in the Hdnn'on of J'edro
Ahiirado which jtresents tlu'fii'st view of (Guatemala,
\V(i find a vivid «lescription of scenes and events con-
nected with the conquest, and this by a leader fjunous
alike for his daring exjiloits and his cruel ilisp<tsition.
The latt(<r stands forth in bold relief above every
(itlier trait, thouujh closelv liid<(.'d with restlessn(,'ss
and and)ition, with an indomitable will that supersti-
li'Mi alone could bend. Simple is the diction t>f the
si.l(n(>r, and terse like his words of command, while
an achnirable clearness pervades the whole.

I'ljually stirring though less revolting arc the
('(irtitK of his chief, Cortes himself, who.se famous
march to Honduras and ojvrations there occupy a
large s])ace in his letters. While the lieutenant ile-
li^lits in slaughter and wades in blootl, the chief ex-
liiliits his endurance and in»jjenuit\" in transporting a
•jfcat army across vast marshes and over mighty
rivers, guiding it through trackless forests and arid
(lesei'ts, and climl)ing cloud-clapped ranges. The lat-
ter struggles against the forces of nature, against
sickness and hunger; now to set the exanqjle in for-
titude, encouraging the faint-hearted and succoring
the feeble; now to circumvent a treacherous foe;
again to <]uell a consi)iracy, or to overcome some for-

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462

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

ill;

midable barrier. Never did this man appear a grcaVi
hero ; never did his varied talents shine to grt atcv
advantage. Tlie subtlety of the diplomatist coiuhine
with the energy and resources ot the leader and tl.c
frankness of the soldier, while religious fanaticism is
softened by a naive reliance on providence. All these
qualities are displayed in his writings, which rise far
above the average of the time in purity and clearness,
fluency and conciseness; evincing also a training in
rhetoric, legal forms and business habits. His Latin
is introduced with taste, mingled with courtly plinises,
and occasionally an ornamented sentence reveals a
pen which had oft enough dabbled in verse, l^veii
the easy flowing diction of Gomara, his biograplKr,
sometime professor of rhetoric, pales before the out-
pouring of this great mind moulded in experiences so
varied.

What a contrast do we find in the pages of the con-
temporary Oviedo, who covers more particularly the
soutliern provuices of Central America, where he
himself figured. He had a passion for writing which
gratified itself in bulky folios, but he lacked the power
to plan and to generalize, and the aptitude to profit
by his manifold lessons. Thus, while aiming at judi-
cious treatment he loses himself in the vastness of his
subject, and presents a series of versions as they reach
him ; often repeating, now entering into tiresome de-
tails, now skimming the surface or making mere use-
less allusions. While striving to be concise, he be-
comes verbose and ramblinix, yet he redeems hiniseif
somewhat in occasional displays of eloquence and
purity of style. While possessing no less litoraiy
education than Cortes, he shows less ability and taste
in using it, in criticism and diction. Later his inclina-
tion for gossip and moralizing was allowed freer range
than ever.

Unscrupulous, like the rest of the early colonists
and conquerors, the cavalier Oviedo attracted the
frown of the ecclesiastic Las Casas, the chanipien (f

EARLY HISTORIANS.

463

oppressed natives, whose tonj^ue and pen were equally
al)sc)rbod by his noble cause, to defend his charge and
to lash the persecutor. But his fiery zeal too often
carried him away. While Oviedo used little discrini-
illation in accepting any version, or incident, or nat-
ural phenomenon. Las Cases as readily listened to ac-
cusations which national pride alone should have urged
him to sift ere he used them to damn his countrymen.
Intent chiefly on his great cause, he was easily
swayed in most directions by partiality, and lils ab-
sorption promoted carelessness in diction as well as
facts and treatment. All tliis tends to detract from
the viijjilant subtletv attributed to him bv his learned
opponent Sepulveda ; but his fluency of thought and
expression is evident, and marked by frequent out-
bursts of stirring eloquence and strains of biting irony.

Gomara availed himself of these preceding authori-
ties to form a general, concise wt)rk, wherein, however,
he sacrificed truth and research to style and partisan
spirit in the effort to please his patron and to court
popularity. This roused the ire of the soldier, Ber-
nal Diaz, jealous for the prestige of himself and his
conu-ades. Printed books, private memoranda, and a
soiiunvhat treacherous memor}^ all serve him in his
striving for truth, and in contrast to his opponent he
sacrifices for this, style, and to a certain extent, popu-
larity. But it is not a voluntary surrender; for per-
sonal vanity, and a sympathy for brotliers-in-arms,
prompt him to sturdily vindicate his own party.
Tliough others suffer somewhat, yet he is not ungen-
erous. As for style, this has been irremediably
neglected, amid the toils of the camj)aign and j)ioneer
life. He is graphic, however, in bringing before us
sc(>nes and adventures from camp and field, and grows
animated and pathetic by turns; but the garrulous
tendency is strongest, and leads to wearisome details
and digressions.

In the Italian, Benzoni, we find a less generous and
frank spirit. His motive for writing was chiefly per-

464

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

sonal spite, which peers forth in sarcasms and exagge-
rations, or even falsehoods, while a ready credulity
allows free entrance to vague gossip, quite in kee[)ing
witli his uncultured style. But he is valuable in pre-
senting testimony not partial to the Spaniards.

Toward tlie end of the first century, Herrera, the
royal historiographer, appears to combine all these
and other narrations into one general history, and to
become the standard historian for his field and period.
But liis examination of material is not careful, and
liis method is faulty. A slavishly chronological treat-
ment interferes with the spirit of the narrative, and
breaks the interest ; religious and patriotic zeal over-
rule trutli and humanity, and a bald and prolix style
tires the reader.

What an opportunity is here among so many frag-
mentary and faulty versions to complete, to coui})ile,
to summarize, to restudy and comment, with .such
varied models, and attain results prominent for sim-
plicity and clearness, for purity and eloquence, for
conci.seness and discrimination, for truth and order,
while the contrasting and more general defects serve
for the same end by warning the student 1 The ap[)eal
was not uidieeded by colonial men, l)ut they were
cramped by false training, and party spirit ruled high,
so that models and warninj^s served to stiniulate zoul
rather than direct the method.

The first to awake to the necessity for a spcoinl
work on Guatemalan history were the Dominicans,
who from their centre in Chiapas exercised a w'ulo
influence. Antonio de Remesal was intrusted with
the task of compiling the records of their religious
provincia, interweaving it with secular events. He
proceeded with extraordinary diligence to ransack
diff'erent archives which were then, in the opening t)l'
the seventeenth century, in good condition, and lie
was also exact, as may bo noticed in both facts and

GUATEMALAN HISTORY.

465

style ; yet the latter is clear and pleasing, and com-
paratively free from redundancy. The bias of the
zealous friar is strikingly apparent wherever his order
is concerned, and here coloring and assertion are made
subordinate to feeling, and to what he deems duty,
while the imagination is largely drawn upon for
speeches and conversation wherewith to uphold Do-
minican prestige. On the other hand he strives, in imi-
tation of Las Casas, as champion of the Indians, to
lasli their oppressors, and this with a fearlessness that
evoked a storm against his book before it was pub-
lished. Otherwise he upholds the colonists, and
sliows often a graceful forbearance that covers many
objections.

For a whole century did the Historia de Chyapa of
lu niesal flaunt before the world the supremacy of the
Dominicans in this region, to the ill-suppressed anger
of the Franciscans. At last, in 1714, the latter gave
vent to their feelings in the Chronica de la Provincia
del Santissimo Nombre de Jems de Guatemala, by Fran-
cisco Vazquez, printed at Guatemala, a circumstance
which renders it more thoroughly a part of Central
American literature. It lacks, however, the ability
and pertinent research manifest in many preceding
works. It displays, no doubt, a certain amount of
investigation, but also a large amount of culling from
Remesal, and other ready sources, without giving due
credit, and it dwindles in the main features rather
into an argument; against the claims of the opposite
order, taking, on every possible occasion, a contrary
view. In this eifort on behalf of his brotherhood,
Vazquez shows as little hesitation as the other party
to exaggerate and misinterpret, and he freely upholds
the Franciscan plea for cooperation of the cross and
sword, by stoutly defending the conduct of the con-
querors, and declaring the Indians undeserving of the
sympathy lavished upon them by artificial piety.
These weaknesses are not redeemed by literary treat-
ment, for the arrangement is defective, guided greatly

£S3A) S AND MiaCELLAMT SO

mmmmm

11* I

466

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

'1 I

by unreflcctintr impulse, and a large part of the work
is occupied with verbose details concerning obscure
friars, which reflect on the discrinunation of the writer,
as compared with the more clear-sighted and concise
Remesal. The latter opens his volume with ap[)r(v
priate directness, wliile Vazquez begins with a conven-
tional preamble of the pulpit order. The phraseology
is rambling and involved, and the diction tiorid,
with a frequent parade of Latin and scholastic quota-
tions. The latter features are by no moans regarded
as blemishes among Spaniards, with whom the inflated
cultismo was still at its heiglit, never, indeed, to be
wholly eradicated from the language, for it accorded
V ith the very traits of the people.

The same observations apply almost exactly to tlie
Recordadon Florida de la Historia de Guatemala, written
two decades before by Fuentes y Guzman, but nevir
published. It forms the first recognized secular his-
tory of Guatemala, and has for us the additional in-
terest that the author is not only a Creole, but a de-
scendant of the soldier chronicler Bernal Diaz, w]io
settled in the old city of Guatemala where Fuentes
was born. With such family traditions one cannot
expect from him an^^thing but a blind advocacy of
the acts of the conquerors, and the policy of the colo-
nists ; he not only disregards testimony and suppresses
damaging facts, but he inserts statements to suit his
aim. The style shows a ready appreciation of (J(')n-
gora's school; but it is redeemed by consideral^le
descriptive power, with not infrequent elegance of
diction.*

While Fuentes y Guzman is entitled to the repre-
sentative place as historian of Guatemala, it has Iteen
occupied before the world by Domingo Juarros, wliose
Historia de Guatemala is the only well-known work on
this country for colonial times. He came across the
manuscripts of his predecessor, and perceived at onee
his opportunity. The country was ripe to receive
such revelations, for the wave of intellectual awaken-

GUATEMALAN HISTORY.

467

ing liad rolled across tlie Atlantic, and aroused a
Tiiorc vivid interest in history. He liad tlie tact,lio\v-
evor,t() create a special interest in his book by call-
iiin- it a history of the capital, and by tlie clever
immceuvre of devoting a large space to the biography
of her notable men. "No existiendo su historia,
siiu) es en el deseo de los verdadoros patriotas," he adds.
Ho recognizes geography and chronology as the "two
eyes" of history, and promises to use both. He ac-
cordingly opens the volumes with the aid of the
former, applying it successively to every province in
Central America; for Guatemala, as the leading
state, was often assumed to comprise those to the
south. The capital, the cherished city of his l)irth,
receives special attention In her buildings, institutions,
and renowned children and leaders. This has evi-
dently been a labor of love, for a good deal of inves-
tit;ati()n is exhibited in connection with archives of
cliiu'ch and state, to which his position as synodal
examiner procured his ready access. In the second
volume he confines himself more particularly to his-
tory, beginning with pre-conquest times, which apply
only to Guatemala for want of even traditional
records elsewhere. In taking up the account of sub-
jugation and settlement by Spaniards he passes from
one province to another, and seeks to complete the
narrative by adding institutional matter and curious
items. The book is just what one might expect for a
country little written upon, and from a n)an eager to
tell all about it. Not that he is exhaustive, for he
fails to })resent any adequate view of society and in-
dustrial condition, and in the history he follows the
unreliable Fuentes without exercisina: due care or
(liscrnnmation, or supplementing with sufficient addi-
tional investigation. This, toijether with the lack of
sequence and symmetry, imparts a fragmentary and
unsatisfactory character to the work, which is besides
unrolicved by any beauty of diction ; yet the style
possesses a conciseness and clearness that is remark-

468

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

.' ! ;^:

able for a preacher of Spanish America. Efiually
refreshini^ is the comparative freedom from bigotry
and cretiulity in a Koinan eathoHc priest of tliis
remote corner, except when treading on scientific or
otlicr new ground. He rarely intrudes his \m]\nt
sentences, and if he occasionally upholds niinicks
and asceticism, it is but duty to his profession."

Among representative historical writers of the pres-
ent century, must be placed Doctor Francisco do ] 'aula
(rarcia Pelaez, archbishop of Guatemala, whose Mt mo-
rias para la Hwtorla de Guatemala present tlie most
complete account of colonial times in Central Anicrita.
He treats less of ancient history and conquest, wliicli
more than one accessible author has fully spoken of,
but displays close observation on subsequent matter,
with particular attention to institutions and society,
to government policy and the unfolding of trade, in-
dustries, education, thus approaching closely to later
ideas as to what should constitute materia] for the
history of a people. To this end he has applied re-
search of no slight extent, and a careful arrangement,
without pretending to offer a history in the proper
sense of the word. Indeed, the work is rather a series
of collected statements from different authorities, ar-
ranged under topics and in historic sequence, with lit-
tle or no attempt to present or to reconcile differences,
or to combine scattered facts or hints in explanatory
or complimentary shape, or to offer conclusions wliieh
should result from analysis and comparison. Xor has
any use been made of foot-notes, wherewith to relieve
the text from trivial details and bare references, which
are therefore left to interfere with the connection and
obstruct the style. There is no effort in the latter di-
rection, however, and even stirring incidents are relattd
without the least animation; yet the language is pure
and clear, and the sentences smooth.

The valuable features of Palaez' work become more
conspicuous when contrasted with other contributions
in this field, of the same period. These are chiefly

FlPwST TRINTINO.

400

political pamphlets by loaders or hangers-on in defense
of i)arties or individuals, full of loud assertion and
boin'oast, sustained by fiery emphasis, and disguised
by rambling digression. Occasionally the compact
vet disjointed style, with its forensic stamp, drifts into
reiteration and mere bombast, with faulty punctuation,
revealing in both forms the crudencss of diction and
phraseology. The use of foot-notes is little understood,
but tliore is usually an ap[)endix with corroborative
documents. Superior to these in style are the produc-
tions of such men as Alejandro Morure, tliough occa-
sionally marked by ill-sustained efforts at florid decla-
mation/ As for sifting of evidence, study, and
deduction, there is little or none. The domination of
idea, party, or passion is almost everywhere glaringly
apparent, together with a glossy superficiality that
shields the unstable reasoning of the polemic, and the
lack of profundity in his attainments.

The scantiness and defects of Central American
literature are greatly due, as I liave intimated, to the
paucity and scattered distribution of the population,
and in modern times above all, to the continual
civil wars which have absorbed the attention of
the superior classes, and created such disorder and
neglect of progressive measures as to keep the masses
in abject ignorance, and greatl}'' to diminish the means
for iiistructhig the rest. Spain was ever the classic
country from which the colonists drew their knowledge
and obtained their models, and so it still remains, wide
a.^ the political and social gulf may be between them.
V/ith so small a circle of readers, those fitted and called
to wield the pen found little encouragement, at least
^or wirks of an ambitious character. Heavy as well
t s hght literature was brought from across the sea,
himJ from Mexico, a fair proportion coming from France,
for whose people and productions a warm sympathy
lia^ always existed, and whose language found ready
learners from its similarity to the Spanish.

470

LITERATURE OP CENTRAL AMERICA.

The backward condition of literature can bo readily
understood when it is learned that the printing press
waji not introduced at Guatemala until 1060, \y\mi
Joseph do Pineda Ibarra figures as the first priutLT.'
The first publication is said to have been a letter l)y
President Caldas to the king concerning the couipust
of the Lacandon country; but the claim to be tlx; first
book is made for Relacion de la Vida y Vlrtudcs del I '
Hermano Pedro de San Joseph Betancur, Guatemala,
1GG7, by Manuel Lobo." After this, publication he-
came not infrequent; for works from all parts of Cen-
tral America, hitherto sent to Spain or Mexico to he
printed, were now forwarded to Guatemala, which lias
ever maintained the lead over the other states, owiii'i
to its greater population and mterests. Some of the
provinces to the south did not obtain presses till long
after the independence.

Guatemala early followed the example set in !Mex-
ico of issuing a periodical, a monthly Gacda, started
in 1729 by Sebastian de Arevalo, which has amid
diflferent suspensions and revivals managed to pass
into the present century, and to sustain itself later as
a weekly, and generally as the oflficial organ/' In
1797 Villaurrutia began to publish a weekly paper in
connection with his Sociedad Economica, devoted t(j
general advancement, both of which sufl'ered tempo-
rary suppression as too advanced in spirit for the
Spanish government. In 1820 two journals appeared,
and after this new ones spring up almost every year,
occasionally as many as ten within the twelve months,
although few survive. Among the other states Sal-
vador follows with about twenty-four journals witliin
eighteen years, beginning in 1824, less than half the
number issued in Guatemala. Honduras has eleven
within thirteen years, and Nicaragua nine, both be-
ginning in 1830 ; Costa Rica falls to seven between
1832 and 1842, and Panamd decHnes to even less."
They were with rare exceptions political organs, full
of polemics and stale news, with occasionally scien-

RELIGIOUS BIOGRAPHY.

471

tific articles, and feuilletons translated or copied from
foirin'ii papers.

Liberty of the press entered with the independence,
only to find itself obstructed or suppressed now by
sDiao dictator, anon by formal law from legislatures,
yet with intervals of absolute freedom. The most
severe legislative measure appeared in 1852, when
close government censorship was established."

One effect of the independence, and the dissemina-
tion of liberal ideas from Franco, manifested itself in
a lessened rcligi(jus feeling among the educated
classes, which has finally led to the suppression of
convents, and to a diminished influence for the clergy
with every successive effort of theirs to assert them-
selves. This is only too apparent in the bulk of po-
litical pamphlets which in modern times form the
iiiuiii feature of publications, replacing the former
excessive production of theological treatises, sermons,
and saintly biography.

Of the last class we find good specimens in Lobo's
Pukiclim de la Vida de Bdaiicur, already mentioned as
the first book proper issued in Central America, in
Antonio de Siria's Vida de la Venerable Doiia Aim
(I'ncna, and in such works as Remesal and Vazquez.
The latter, for that matter, rewrote Lobo's Eelaiiom,
and made copious additions to the biography of Be-
tanour, who was highly venerated in the countrj^ as a
religious founder and humanitarian.'* This work is in
the usual exalted, visionary spirit of the seventeenth
century, with special prominence to abstract and as-
cetic features, the monotony of which Vazquez has
increased with his verbose inflation, rambling phrase-
ology, and florid diction. Yet the last would no
doubt add to the interest for lovers of such lore,
while the earnestness pervading every line, and the
mysticism, serve to impress on the devout the lesson
intended to be inculcated.

479

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

In colonial times the oratory of tlio liar aiul i>iil|)it
was never allowed the full ran^a- accorded in prole s-
tant Europe, where appeals reached the head as \V( 11
as the heart. With the liberty conferred by revtlu-
tion and fostered by the debates of assenibhes and the
demand of elections, the pent-up spirit found free V( nt,
and astonished itself by its rapidity of prc)<j[ress in I his
new path. A vivacious temperament, a ready How u(
words, and the stirring subjects of national birtii and
men consecrated to the people as heroes and martyis,
all assisted to impart an eloquence wliich met with
prompt response among an emotional audience.
Depth and logical sequence were lacking, however, and
rules of elocution were not allowed to interfere greatly
with the natural How and the impulsive rather tluin
studied emphasis so frequently employed, and so ciiui-
aeteristic of the oratory.

The revival in learning, which became manifest
toward tlie end of the eighteenth century, naturally
gave an impulse to the demand for works of a sciiii-
tific nature, notably in connection with industrial aits,
as indicated by the reports of tlie Sociedad Economic a
begun in 1707; but the disorders under republican
rule have allowed far less room for jnogress in this
direction than could be expected from the promisiiiu
number of names which, during the later colonial
period, are connected with similar topics.

Bias de Pineda y Polanco had, in beginning of tlif
eighteenth century, collected 27 volumes of material
on natural history and geograpliy, in dictionary form.
with illustrations. The most ambitious ettbrts weiv
by Juan de Padilla, a presb3'ter, who wrote on matin -
matics and astronomy, the latter subject embraced in
a bulky manuscript folio of 585 pages entitled Tcorlcn
y prdctica de la astronomia. He was long an authority
in this branch for Guatemala. Fuentes speaks of an
earlier student in the field, Juan Jacinto (ninido.
The Creole friar Joaquin Calcleron de la Barca figured
as a mathematician about 1735 ; while Ignacio Ceballos

RCIEXTIFIC WORKS.

47S

of Guatemala became an aradcinician of Spain and
assisted in t'onnin^ the first great dictionary."

The great variety of Indian tribes in tliis extensive
rc;j;ii>n, which attracted the missionary zeal, gave riso
t(t a number of linguistic productions, wherein Friar
Francisco Jimenez shines with particular lustre. I
have collected a number of these works, vocabularies,
grammars, and religious text-books, in connection
with my studitJS on aboriginal languages as expressed
ill my Native Iiacc>i, but Brasseur do Bourbourg api)lied
Iiiiusolf more especially to the subject, as indicated
ill iiis several writings.

Ill this connection must be mentioned the Ui.^oria
dc la Creadon del Cicio y <le la Tierm by Bamon de
Ordonez, presbyter. Assisted by the aboriginal rec-
ords and traditions and the hieroglyphics aiui scul[)-
tures at the then recently discovered Paleiicjue. the

author attempts t(

) r\T

nl.

in the Maya theory of the

cnation, and to follow the wandenngs and adventures
of tlie founders of the cultured nations in tliis rt gion.
Guided by the scripture, he finds no difficulty in con-
necting them with Chaldca, ami in sui)[)orting this
assumption by a comparison of rites and customs.
Tlie ingenuity and boldness of his interpretations are
as striking as the transparency of his arguments.
But the mystic nature of the subject, the evidiMit re-
search, and the profusion of reference and learned
allusions, all lend a glamour to the book that sustains
the earnestness and hiy:h character of the author."'

Spanish poets have not failed to seize upon the
grand achievements connected with discovery and
coiKiuest in America, unsurpassed for range, interest,
and beauty. Nevertheless these themes have been
left in a great measure to the conquerors themselves,
such as Castellanos, who, in his Elegias de Vartmes
f lustres de Imh'as, ambitiously seeks to cover th(> whole
field, and to commemorate the glories of all the lead-
ing heroes from Columbus* time far into the opening

474

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

century of Spanish rule. His is ratlier a versified
narrative, however,of varying form, with vivid descrip-
tion of incidents and novelties, yet combined with a
great smoothness and rare purity of diction. The stir-
ring deeds of the Castilian invaders are related hy
him in a very incomplete maimer, yet the creole de-
scendants of those invaders have not felt moved to
continue the song of the soldier bard. Their versili-
cation was confined chiefiy to odes and sonnets on tliu
occasion of birthdays anu other celebrations in honor
of royalty or high officials, and more andjitious efibits
soUL;^t rather a foreign and seennn<>lv more alluriii'-'
though well-worn toi)ic.

La Thonumada of Friar Diego Saenz is a passallo
epic on the angelic doctor, and noticeable here ratlur
as one of the first publications of (Guatemala. Of
greater interest is Raphael luandivixvH Iiusficdfio Mcri-
caiKi, a didactic poem in initation of the 'jlconjics', em-
bracing natural features, resources, and industries of
Central America as well as Mexico. Landivar was;i
native of Guatemala, and professor there of rhetoiic
and i)irdoso[)hy in the Jesuit college. On the ex})ul-
sion of the societ}' in 17()7, he })r()ceeded like most
of the members to Italy, there to seek consolatiitii in
literary labors. The Ru^ilimtio contains the outgrow-
ing of his very soul, while reviewing scenes dear to
his memory, and displaying to the world the wealth
and beauty of his native land. In the tledicatory
verses to Guatemala, the longing of the exile and the
love of the patriot find a touching expression. The
selection of Latin instead of S[)anish nnist be attiili-
uted both to his environment while writing, and to
the pride of the scholar, who entertained a hope that
tlic v/ork might be adopted as a text book in his e)V.ii
country — an expectation not unfairly based on an
appropriate subject, a pure diction and classic form.

The ready ada[)tation of the Spanish language to
classic verse has led to several minor imitations, nota-
bly in Virgil's vein, but they are seldom above the

POETRY AXD SONG.

475

barest anrl dullest mediocrity. Instance the eclogue
of Ruiz y Lara in honor of the prominent Nicaraguan,
Jjarrcynaga, of 1834. The glorious memories of the
indopondence have provided appropriate and freer
topics, to be revived at the annual celebration, largely
in satiric form. The feelings of the vanquished patriot
and exile seek utterance at every turn of fortune's
wheel, while woman reigns supreme above all in her
power to inspire, as may readily be understood with
rc;^ard to a people so devoted to gallantry and other
amenities of society.

The ode and the elegiac strain appear to be the
hap})iest efforts, and octaves of undecasyllabic triple
in(-asure tlie most common form. A poetry which,
like the Spanish, so readily admits the free, irregular,
ini[)rovisatory verse known as .sv7(y/.s', nmst not be
scanned so rigidly as ours. The metre, for that mat-
tor, retains to a certain extent the classic features of
cnipliasis and idiomatic rliythm, and the mixture ac-
cords well with the impulsive, declamatory bent of
the Hispano-American. It requires often an inter-
pretation of its own, and this individualit}'^ is also
marked in elocution generally. While the method
may bo erratic, it nmst not be supposed that the
tlitMnc is such, although the Spaniards are somewhat
addicted to broad allusions. The tone of the amatory
pieces before me is most chaste, and i]i^ similes be-
long, as a rule, to the sweeter and grander elements
iu nature.

As specimens of elegiac pieces I will cite from the
rocollections of an exile :

Venid con la luna

Y estrellas brillantes,

C'ual ricos diainautca
Taiiibicii rutilad.

lil rceuerdo es mi perfume
('nil (|UL! cl alma .se adormece:
Tii'i'iio lirin (jue aparece

Cuaiidi) el tudio nos cousiune.

Es pintada maripn-sa,

Que vat^iiiidci ciitro las flores
Rol)a il(! fllas Ids olores,

Que iKis In'iiiila carifiosa.

Es mi fi'o dfsprendido
l)o CDlliirrtn llliti'l'ioso;

Hlaiido, suavi% iiiclddioso,
Y c'litro Hi>ml)ras osocnidido.

This is from the pen of Juan de Canas, which also

476

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

contributes a number of odes and sonnets, the latter
less liappy. Another poet of Salvador, Carlos Bo-
nilla, sings at the tomb of a wife :

Tan solo tie inmnrtal, seca corola, Una arboleda plantarecon ellos,

Del Saucey,del cipres las tri ■■ -js lioja3 Melancolica al par quu fiiuuraria,

Mo queilau, en higar de Hore.'* rojas, Que circunde la fosa ciiifiaiia

Para adornar tu losa sepulchral. Que uucierra tu despojo terreuaL

And farther:

1 '1

Antftcsis dolorosa,

Que el corazon ha sufrido,
Cual arljolillo batido

Por furioso vcndabal.

En esa cuna me qucda
El pinipollo de una rosa,
Y en esta sonibria fosa,

Qucda seco mi rosall

Here it must be admitted that the oral ballads
of the populace arc not so pure as might be desired.
And this observation leads me to a few closing n>
marks on the songs of the Indians. While und(»ul»t-
edly retaining many aboriginal features, they have
been greatly influenced by Spanish subjects, niclocUes,
and rhythm, under constant association with the con-
quering race, and diligent training of priests and
church choirs, whose art entered also into secular
pastimes. The theme concerns the duties of the hus-
bandman, the hunter, the fisherman, and the attendant
adventures or dangers, or it dwells on the cliarins of
budding woman, with many a broad reference to the
snares laid for her l)y strangers. Only too frc(|uently
tlie vagaries and weaknesses of the parish priest meet
with sarcastic exposure, and the slumbering feeling
against the ruling class, with its Castilian pride and
afl'ectation, is still nursed in the popular verse, which,
moreover, displays a lingering i)redilection for ancient
rites and superstitions, midst covert sneers at Chris-
tian dogmas. Both subject and form are simple, of
an improvised character, with frequent repetition of
lines, generally in antithetical and paraphrastic form:

He roamed through the forest witli axe on the slioulder,
Witli axe on llie shouhlcr he roamed througli the forest.
It was niglit deep niglit; in the sky not a moon!
Not a nmon in the sky; it was night — deep niglit!

Refrain:

FORMS AND CONDITIONS.

In the distance rolled the sea, the great sea;
Tlie sea, the great sea, waa heard I'roiu afar,
As it sadly groaned, like a wounded deer,
Like a wounded deer, which sadly groans.

With axe on the shoulder he roamed through the forest,
He roamed through the foreat with axe on the shoulder.

477

The iteration is undoubtedly effective despite its
frequency, but the poetic imagery occasionally indi-
cated is rarely sustained. In alluding to the charms
of maidens, iiowers, and gold, sunlight and birds are
generally used to form the simile, although not
always appropriate.

'J'ula, the pretty one, with teeth so white, with eyes of gold,
Lovod to roam in the forest ; around in the forest to roam,
The iiowers she gatliered to adorn her long tresses
Apjieiired in the gleam of her eyes so much brighter.
And little l)irds from trees around, all rohed in sunlight,
Tiioy iluw when she came, to percli on her lips so pretty,
And sweetly carolling on her shoulder they nestled.

Satiric compositions, with their short round stanzas,
contain at times very neat epigrammatic lines, but as
a rule form is sacrificed to the subject and euphony.

Sweet girls and young maids,
ri.ice huds in your hair,

But lot them liave thorns,
The curate to sting.

Sweet girls and young maids,
Show pesos and goM,

And priests will di.splay
Their old paradise.

The refrain is not always fit to translate.

The stanzas close with a couplet in which the au-
dience joins. It is usually taken from the opening
lines, or consists of a meaningless jingle.

A striking feature is the sad strain which enters
into nearly all these songs, especially toward tJie
close, and which pervades most of the melodies.
This predominant tinge has not failed to reach the
poetry generally of Central America, to judge by the
prevalence and success so far of elegiac verse. The
satiric and mystic elements of the aboriginal have also
left their impress; the former accords well with the
ply, retiring disposition of the Indians as compared
with the other castes, their suspiciousness and as-
sumption of even more than their natural stolidity,
while it also points to a lack of power for loftier ex-

mmm

478

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

pression. Similar remarks apply to the mystic form,
which supplies with vague allusions what utterance
fails to couvcy. The impulsive intonation and bom-
bast manifested in odes and oratory is, on the otlicr
hand, from a Si)anish source, evolved under congenial
circumstances with the new race, and given free sway
by the revolution.

The independence opened wide the door for forei<i;n
influence toward research, method, style, in all
branches of knowledge and art, and the press seiks
to extend it, although as a rule, indirectl}', throui^li
the medium of Mexico, which, under improving com-
munications is rather strengthening her autlioritv as
the cliief source, model, and market for Central
American readers and writers. Paucity of popula-
tion, and ignorance, and lack of ambition among tlio
large proportion of Indians, add obstacles which it
will take long to overcome. The people must learn
above all, however, that peace is required to establisJi
the secure pros}ierity whicli alone can give a fostering
impulse to art and literature.

^Tliere is f?omc reason tn believe that the Afayas attained even to an nl-
phal)et. Tlie sculptured liierof;lyiihics in n'gular compact squares, at tmth
Ciipau and PaloiKfue, seem identical with tiie written characters tif surviving
manuscripts, and hear a stamp suporii)r to tlu)se of the A/tecs. Tiii' t'.iihiiu
of the several attempted solutions has not dampened zeal in tliis directinii ;
in Ualif(u'nia alone more than one student has taken up the proljlem. Lju
Casas touches upon the sul)ject elofpiently in hia 1114. Apnlo;/., MS., iv.
31)7. The manuscript Troano puhlished hy the French government, tlio
Dresden Codex, nicluded in Kingsbonnigh'a work, and one other document
in a European lilirary, are the only written specimens left to us.

"^ Scherzor points out that the Quiche language does not distinguish be-
tween green and blue. Xiiiiencz, If int. Orij. I ml., 15.

'Brassenr do Bourhoiirg joined in the rush for relics, but his effort was to
save from destruction, and nohly has he proven his intent in puhlieatioiH as
priceless as they are interesting. Felaez, S(piicr, Stephens, and Sclicrzer ti;;-
ure hy his side in rescuing and supplementing the earlier labors in this licld
of sucii men as Jimenez. Panamd lost its archives chiefly by tires, which
jnvolvoil .al-io to a great extent those of Nicaragua and other pniviiK'i '- de-
pending on (Inatemala and Lima. In Salvador earthquakes engulfed imich
material, while everywhere civil wars by invaders or factions assisted >'im-
rtagrations and neglect in completing the destruction. Tims it is that roeonii
of the early history of Central America nuist l)e sought chielly in wi'rlis
writt(!n bi\y()n<l its limits, in Spain and England, and above all in the niiiiiu-
8eri|)t and printed collections of documents issued from peninsular areliivus,
where copiuy uud originals of letters, reports, and cvcu claburutu bouks on

NOTES.

479

inguish be-

thc prftvinccs accumnlated, partly in the ordinary course of official routine,
partly in olieilienco to repeated orders for transmission of material fortiieiise
(,f royal elironielers, ' I'ara (jiie se pueda proseguir la historia general de laa
Indian.' Ikcop. dc /ml., i. GlJi).

'Tiic incentive to collect historic material lay in the duty and personal
inotives i)revailiiig among the Kurojjean Spaniards who held nearly all the
oltiL'i'-i. Specii)iens of tlieir reports have heen frequently cited hy me through-
out these volumes in the original or copied manuscripts of Alvarado, Mon-
tcjo, <iil tionzalez, C'ere/eda, Estrada tJallego, Cadena, Miranda, IS'ielila,
t'a.stcllo, Avila, Duarte, Aniuon, I/aguirre, Hermosillo, Velaseo, lluya, and
more from the Squier collection ; in the printed accounts issued in tlic col-
lections by I'acheco and Cardenas, 8quier, Ternaux-Compaua, Arevalo
aud otliers.

■'' For an account of the life and works of the chroniclers of Central Amer-
ica, I refer to the bibliographic notes scattered throughout the tirst two vol-
umes of my histories of Central America and of Mexico.

''Fuentes' Korte Politkn forms a suitable adjunct to his history in givina
an at'count of the duties, privileges and ceremoni'!.s of the ayuntaniiento of
(iiiatemala, whereof he was a mend)er. Allusion ia made to this manuscript
ill tlic records of the city council for 1700, which refer a do/cn years pre-
viously to Fuentes' researches in the local archives. While his liistory is the
first leoogni/.ed as such, Bcristain refers to an earlier Hiatorid da (•'iiiifiniula
by Friar K.stevan Aviles, wliieh remained in manuscript, and has disappeared.
It may have been used by Fuentes. C(>ntemj>orary with him were tiie mili-
tary leaders Nicolas de Valenzuela aud I'cro Ursiia, engaged in the coiuiuest
(if the Itza country, of wliicli the former in particular wrote a very minute
ai'count. This and otlier material was used by Villagutierre Soto-mayor
relator of the India Council, to form a very complete J/iMorld de In CoininiMa
(Ir llz'i, with the necessary information concerning the discovery and features
of tiie country. The book opens in a most direct manner, but drifts gradu-
ally into trivial details, 'i lie author has evidently no aptitude for llorid eul-
i\-n\n ; but while the diction is not intlated, the pliraseology is loose and in-
vulved, so tliat altogether interest finds litile means to sustain itself. The
Work is rather on than of Central America. More in the style of Vazquez ia
t!ii> Iii/nriiic snhrc la Su'ilrrc'ion de Aw Zonhdi'K, a manuscript of 78 folios, by
Filar I'cdro Marsclino (larcia. The Creole, .Jose Sanchez, wrote a history
of (iiiatemala, MS., dated 1779, but it is little known and by no means the
connected or complete review of events and institutions imlicated by the
title. Father Kamou Leal, of the Dominican order, wrote at the end of tlie
seventeentli century the < Inatonaiaisis Eeckme Mouuiiicnta, which relates mora
particularly to the capital.

'Similar to Juarros in its descriptive features is the little Mrnmria Ifis-
Uirkii df CliiiijMi, by Mariano Robles Dominguez de Mazariegos, de[>uty to the
Cortes for his province, which shows a clear, plain, business-like hand.

^ For an account of these difTorcnt grades of historical writings and their
authors, I refer to the bibliograpliic notes of my historical volumes. There

I liave sliown that howe defective the stylo and treatment may often be,

the value of the contribv.^ii...... to the investigator is not overlooked, particu-
larly in sucli instances as Manuel M. de Peralta, who modestly confines him-
Hcli to an able presentation of original documents on the history of Costa
Ivica, Nicaragua, and I'anami, ratiier than to strive for the more aml)iti(uis
ctloit of using them for historic dissertations. His merit shines no less
briglitlj', however, in the \ast research, the careful arrangement, and the
apjiroiiriate notes.

'Tlie name of the first printer in Onatomala appears by a slip as Sbarra,
in I'lhtcz, Mem. Ottat., ii. 2G0. Ternaux writes Francisco do Pineda. Nnttv.
Annales dca Vvy., xciii. 25. According to Echevero, the first matrices for

480

LITERATURE OF CENTRAL AMERICA.

type Tnade in America must be credited to the printer Arevalo of Guatemala,
in 1742.

'^Of the first Guatemalan work there in a copy in my library. Tcnianx
liaa an epic, Ln Thoninwutu by Diego Saenz, jjrinted the same year. L'l,i .sun,
I'elaez mentions some later books, and one for ItiOU, which seems to be L(ih()!i.

" Arevalo was evidently a relative of the contemporary Mexican jnurnal-
ist, who in 1731 alludes to this journal. Aixnilo, Coii('paiirn), preface, '-.'. Tlie
lir.-;t suspension occurred in 1731. Valdes dates its existence about 1710.
Vazctaadc Mcx. (1784), i. 3; Id., x. 207; Mex. Uiario, vi. 20l>, etc.

•-Marure gives a list of journals published between 1821 and 1812 in live
of the ( 'enti"il American states. Efemcriifvn, 77-9. His number inr (liiate-
mala is 57. Reicliardt states tliat Nicaragua had in ISjVi only one pros ami
one journal, yir., 222. In 1872 the I'onriiir i/e Aininii/iiii of Dec. hih,
enumerates four, while Guatemala possesses ten and Salvador lifteiii. Of
the four, two are supported by the government, and the otlier t\M) bartly
manage to exist. />(t Univn'siihid Xtirinnd, begun in 187") at San Salvador,
is one of the briglitest of the few literary and scientific journals of Central
America. During the California gold excitement, and for some time at'tcr,
polyglot journals appeared in Nicaragua and I'anania, with the aid of Kng.
lish editors, or even French, and at I'anama this feature lias proved piinia-
nent. Instance the Panama Echo of 1850, and the surviving Star and Jlimkl.

''The final abolishment of censorship in the northern states took place
in 1871. Ihint. /I'fcoj). Leijes, i. 4; iv. 240-7. Yet in the following year an
outcry was raised against Costa Rica for prohibiting, under imjiri.-^onnieiit
and other pi'ualty, any strictures on the authorities. A'/c. Sininmul, Oct. HI,
1872; Purvcnir Ni<\, Nov. 10, 1872. See also lincha, Codlijo Xic, i. ITii-ti;
(Havrta Gnat., June 18, 1849; El Sh/tn, May 13, 1852; Gac. Ojic Howl.. .May
30, 1852, Jan. 20, 1853; Nic, Dtrrel. y Anirrd.. 1800, 140-2; 1872, .S4 10;
iV(>. Informe Min. Gnh., v. 2-3; vi. IC. Bonds wero generally dLrti.imleil
from editors. Notwithstanding the decline of ecclesiastical iniliicnce en-
actments have appeared against impious as well as pernicious book.s. Omit,
Hearp. Ltya, iii. 280-7; Cent. Am. J'ainp/dcts, v. pt. vi.

" The original manuscript of Vazquez, a closely written volume of oyer
200 folios, in double columns, dated 1724, is in my library. It was never
printed. Siria's work was issued at Guatemala in 1710 in 4" form of liliO
pages. To these may be added the Vidade la Vin/cn and other rclij.'iiiu.s
treatises by tlie Jesuit Juan Antonio de Oviedo, a native of Bogota, ('(huatod
in Guatemala but chielly connected with Mexico. He died m 1757. Tlie
Dominican Father Leal who wrote the Ecclctlr. Monumenlit, containing the
lives of the bishops of Guatemala, was a Peruvian; and the Jesuit Jusu
Ignacio Vallejo, author of V^ida de S, Jose', camo from Guadalajara.

1* Friar Pedro Sapien, Pedro Jose Arrece, a presbyter. Friar Pedro ]Mari-
ano Iturbide, and Friar Juan Lerrasa, all of Guatemala city, wrote on
philosophic subjects; and Friar Miguel Frauseseh, Friar Jose Antonio tloi-
coeehea and Friar Matias de Cordova on educational topics.

1' The work never saw the press, but the contents were plagiarized by
Doctor Pablo Fcliz Cabrera and published in condensed form, with certain
new interiirctations, under the title of Tiatrn Crillfo, in connection with
Rio'fi Dim- ri] if ion of an Ancient Cif;/, London, 1822. Both translateil into
(ierman, Berlin, 18.^2. Besides these I have in my library one of the two
or at the most three copies extant of Ordofiez' work. Alorcovcr, a gre.it
portion of the bulky tome before mo is in the original, marked by frci^ucut
corrections.

CHAPTER XVI.

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.
Noacire autem, quid antea, qiiam natua sis, acciderit, id est semper esse

IHRTUUI.

— Cicero.

no of over
as never

nil of :m

nliffimi.s
(■(hiratfd
."i7. Tliu
niiig tliu

suit JllSli

^Ikxioo was the first city on the American conti-
nent to own a printing-press and to pubHsli a book, a
olaiiu that adds not a little to the prestige of tln^ Aztec
(•;il)ital. The press came out with Viccn)y Meudoza,
who arrived in October 1535, and api)ears to liave
l)reii ill cliarge of Juan Pablos from Lombardy, acting
for Juan Cromberger, the owner of a printing-house
at Seville. Cromberger died in 1540, and although
i)t'nuission was Qjranted for the widow and children to
cDUtinue his business, Pablo must have bouglit their
interest, for after 1544 he obtained royal permission
to carry on printing exclusively for a term of years.'

The first book issued was the Escala Kspirifiidl
jKU'd llff/<ir al (jielo, Tmducidode Latin en (kisidlmio pnr
rl Venerable Padre Fr. Ivan de la Madalena, Rel'ifjio^o
Ddiiiiiitco, in 1536. The work had been originally
written in Greek by San Juan Climacus, the hermit.
Madalena was the cloister name for Estrada, the son
of ( jTovernor Estrada, the successor of Cortes, a feature
which lends additional interest to the work.^

The Escala no longer exists, and the history of its
iiinuodiate successors on the press is involved in doubt.
Only two books of the fourth decade are said to sur-
vive — the Iheve y Mas Compendiosa Doctr'nia Christiana
rn T/'nfpm. Mexlcana y Casfellaiia. At the end, "By
order of Bishop Zumilrraga, by Cromberger, I53i)j"

Essays and Miscellany 3i ,4hu

482

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

12 leaves in 4to. The other is a Manual de Adidtos,
by Loijjrono, printed by Croniberger, December 13,
1540, which recejitly found its way to London.' Half
a pcore of other books printed before 1550 are now
known to bibliographers, one of them in my libra ly,
and about six dozen more exist with dates of the
sixteenth century.

Of these Icazbalceta gives a catalogue of 44, wliloh
are nearly all in Mexico, several in his own possession.
Harrisse presents a fuller list, and less complete oiks
liave been printed in several works. Those issued
before 1550 are, besides the three enumerated above,
Relacion del ciq)antahJe terremoto . . .cl Guatimaht, 1.^)41,
Cromberger ; Doctriim breve of Bishop Zunuinaoa,
1543 ; Tripartito del. . .Tua,i G .son, 1544, Cromberger;
Comj)endio hreue que tracta.. de hacer las jmrn's^loiies,
1544, Cromberger; another fuller edition of same
year; Doctrina expiana . . .por Pedro de Cordoua, lo44,
Cromberger; Doctrina Christiana, 1546, Croujberger
is not mentioned ; Canciouero Spirifjial of Las Casas,
1546, Juan Pablos here affixes his fir.st imprint; Jinjla
Christiana hreue, 1547 ; aDoctrina of 1548, Juan PabLts;
another Doctriim, of doubtful date ; Ordenac^as y copi-
lacion de leyes: hechas por. . .jhdonio deMedoca, 1548,
Juan Pablos.*

A few more sixteenth century tomes may no doubt
be brouglit to light, particularly in the Mexican eon-
vents. Among the existintj number, twentv-se vcn
are minor ecclesiastical works, such as manuals ot
church ceremonies, catechisms, and doctrinas, rei)rinted
for the most part from Spanish editions, and of no
value save as rare samples of New World typogrniihv.
Of the remainder, thirty-seven are works similar to
the above, but partially translated into various native
dialects, chiefl}^ the Aztec, together with a few vocab-
ularies and brief grammatical rules.

Ten others are ecclesiastical works of a somewhat
higher class, notably regulations of the religious
orders. There are two medical treatises, and two

FIRST AMERICAN PRKSS.

483

classical commentaries. Two present secular laws
and the ordciunizas of the Viceroy Mendoza, one an
aciount of a terrible earthquake in Guatemala, and
another an account of the funeral ceremonies of
I'liilip II. These first fruits of tlie American press
were many of them issued in several editions.

Anionjx the authors figure such notable men as
Zunuirrai»;a, the iconoclast, first bishop of Mexico;
Fatlier (xante, the first teacher in New Spain ; Father
A'erarruz, the zealous missionary ; Molina, who formed
tlie first Aztec vocabularly, even now a standard work.
Latin is the most frequent medium after Spanish,
tlicn come Aztec, Tarascan, Otomi, Miztcc, and
Zapotcc. The type is Gothic, Italic, and Roman,
witli frequent abbreviations and rare woodcuts of a
rude character, re-introduced into ditl'erent works.
Thti size varies from folio to octavo, the small quarto
]»redominatin<^. The binding is usually the plain
vellum wrapper.

l^rinting was hampered by too many restrictions to
attain any flourishing condition, and only the leading
towns like Puebla, Guadalajara, and Vera Cruz could
exhibit presses. At Mexico it appears there were
six in 1761 ; but at the beginning of this century only
throe remained.'^ These printers had to obtain licenses,
not being allowed to print without official sanction.

The introduction of books was rigorously supervised,
so as to exclude anything that savored of heresy, or
too great liberty of thought and speculation; and
even books authorized in Spain were often excluded
as dangerous to the loyal or moral tendency of the
more unsophisticated children beyond the sea.* While
the inquisition possessed the main censorship, inter-
fVience came also from other quarters to protect the
pul)lic. Notwithstaniling this strictness, many books
were smuggled in and read even by prelates, as
ap})oars from charges made. Latterly the govern-
ment became more induloent.

m*\

UUiil

484

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

Periodicals were ever strictly watched, even so far
as to fruqucntly exclude fromtheir columns narratives
of ordinary events, and to render them of compara-
tively small value to the historian. A sort of special
journal was issued in early times on the arrival of tlic
Heets, with accounts of im[)ortant occurrences, of
appointments, and the like, but the first issue of a
ro;^ular periodical was begun at Mexico in 1693, witli
LJio Mcrciirio Volante of Sii^iienza, which reached four
volumes. In 1722 Juan Ignacio Maria de Caste )r(iia
y Ursua, precentor at Mexico, and later bishop of
Yucatan, presented in the Gacda a publication nuMv
in accordance with our idea of a journal. The issue
stopped for some reason the san*" year, but was re-
sumed in 1728 by Arevalo.' It continued monthly
until 1739, reporting events in different provinces and
towns and in Europe, and giving notices of fleets,
books, and curious things. Then came a long in-
tcrval until 1784, when the Gaccta de Mexico rea})pear( d
permanently in about the same form, in semi-niouthlv
numbers, occasionally weekly, and with supplements
and illustrations. In 1805 it expanded to senii-
wt^ekly numbers. *

Meanwhile the Mercurio had been twice revived, in
1772 by Bartolache who issued a few numbers on
scientific subjects. This higher sphere of periodicals
received its first reliable support from the learned
Alzate in his Gacefas de Literatura, devoted to arts,
science, and critical reviews. In 1805, about ten
years after Alzate's paper stopped, a similiar daily
publication, the Diario de Mexico, made its appearance,
with preference for light literature, yet with a small
proportion of political matter. It continued for sev-
eral years, and consisted generally of two small quarto
sheets. The projector was the alcalde de corte, Villa
Urrutia. Reports of transactions by societies became
not infrequent even before the independence.

The revolution crave rise to a number of small
sheets, and the greater liberty accorded to the press

PEmopirAT.s.

4.sr)

iiftcr IRIO gave iinpulso to all classes of literature,
r.iiodicals were issueii also at a few other iilacts, as
(luatcinala and Vera (.-ruz, but these could not iii-
t'iiiijj,o on the exclusive riijfhts <»ranted to the otticiul
|i,i|Hr at Mexico to publish certain foreign and local
iut'orniation."*

With the limited range of education and the re-
strictions on literature it can r<;adily Ixj supposed that
colliH'tions of books were not numerous, beyond the
convents, where more or less extensive libraries very
naturally collected, almost wholly of a theological
nature. To these, different chrotiides of the orders
ivt<r as the source for their data. The chief collec-
tions Wire at the head convent of tlie provincia, to
which Mowed all reports, and wliere the chief school
of the order was situated.

Tlie few colleges accunmlated sets, as in San Juan
tie Letran, the Jesuit institute, and the university.
The clmrches had also respectable libraries formed by
ilonations from chapters and prelates, and so had tlie
puhlic offices, notably the audience court from which
the royal chronicler drew his data.'

From what has been said about the strict exclusion
of foreign books and the zealous efforts of churchmen
to hanisli also light Spanish literature, it may be as-
sumed that the collections were even more national in
tlieir character than would be expected in a colony ;
tliat is, composed of works written within the country,
and vastly preponderating in theologic lore. True,
the standard authors of S[>ain, scholastics, legal lights,
olironiclers, poets, dramatists, formed the gems, the
nucleus, of the sets; but we can readily imagine the
proportion of local w^riters and of subjects for the rest,
wlieii it is shown that merely the Franciscan authors
of New Spain, who until 1800 inflicted their verbose
and inonot(»nous narratives and dissertations on asul)-
uiis^iive people, numbered over four hundreil," uud

miy^

4^0

MTKRATIT.E OF f'OLOMAL MEXICO.

when it is ronsiilorcd tliat tlio relii^fious tcn(li(>rs
f^uidod piihlic taste, and strove to obtain a circulutiun
tor thtiir own productions.

This feature is of certain significance, sinec it
stamped to a great extent the literary taste in all di-
rections. Tlie friars were not what were called wlII-
read men. Many misslonariei^ in tiie out-lying prov-
inces, who have contributed so much to history, pos-
sessed a njcrely rudimentary education ; others had
taken degress at their colleges without dii>[)ing into
other lore than that furnished by the fathers of tin
church. Medina points out that his order heeded
well the exhortation of St Francis to his followers —
not to profess sciences and books, but to study humil-
ity." Such writers as Torqueniada, whoso kpowlcdur
of Greek and Latin classics created some atteiitlcu
for him, were therefore rare ; yet even this class had
been so moulded in the religious element of tluir
studies, and by the ascetic influence around them, as
to leave the impress thereof on every page.

Since every work had to pass through the hands nf
censors, notaldy the rigid in([uisition, it became al-
most necessary to give a pious tinge to the pages in
order to secure permission to publish, and ahovf all
to suppress whatever savored of acquaintance v.itli
works not favored by the church. Every book, even
the petty pamphlet, is prefaced with a host of certifi-
cates to vouch for its orthodox and local sentiments,
and the absence of anvthing that mi}>ht disturb tlu'
desired frame of the public mind.

Add to this the cortrol of schools and colleges by
ecclesiastic teachers, i )und by training and duty t"
leaven the youthful i id with religious dogmas and
forms, discouraging \ ysics and cognate suhjicts,
and strictly excluding s Gculative thought of a libcrcd
character ; even the stu / of medicine would probably
have been frowned dow but for the exigent demand
of health. Thus bigotry stifled intellectual life. A
lamentable superstition is apparent in the works ev* ;i

CENSOUSIIIP.

487

of later writers, who, like Vcytia, had travelled and
(li|)|)ed widely into foreij^ii literature. Critical and
satiric writint^s were hanished, the eloijuence of the
liar and pulpit depressed, and didaetie works cireuni-
scrilied, a certain outlet bein;.; permitted only in
pi (('try and the drama, which from the pressure of
pciit-up feeling in this direction became tinged with
uiidesirablo elements and colors.

All tliis was but a reflection of the influence at work
ill Spain, intensified here where the peo[)le for various
reasons must be held in stricter pu})ilage. Born amid
the strife of battle, literature had sprung forth endowed
with tlie strength of its mountain home, and fired
witii the enthusiasm of heroic spirits. Similar influ-
ences fostered it also on the Antlhuac plateau, wliere
the chivalry romances, with Amadis in the lead, urged
the conquering hordes to fresh deeds and wider roam-
ing. Yet this early period was one of transition from
a decline to a revival of letters, whereof even Bcrnal
l)i:i/i, with all his crudities, attbrds an indication. Tlie
now impulse came from Italy, to which the gilded
youth of Spahi Imd been led under the victorious ban-
lurs of the Great Caotain, only to fall cajitive in the
musjios of an intellectual influence that was slowly to
change the national form; a form hitherto colored
only by Moorish sources, from which the ballads in
particular had borrowed so nmch material. Although
tlie new school met with strong opposition in certain
(juarters, and failed to find root for all its branches,
the efl'ect was wide-spread and vivifying, even to the
conservative faction. This is instanced by the splen-
dor of the Vega-Calderon [leriod, and even in such }>rose
writers as Solis, wherein, however, affectation and
tloridity reach a degree tiiat is unendurable to the
Anglo-Saxon ear, though not eijual to the still wilder
revelling of the Concettisti. Among these our Sala-
zar y Olarte may well figure as a rejiresentative, and
their .spirit has found only too wide a response in

mhi

i n

488

LITEIIATUIIE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

American literature, with its extravagant and unsus-
taincd soarings in fancy and diction.

What was excusable in poetry became a glaring de-
fect in prose. The latter indeed received compara-
tively little study in historic and didactic brandies,
and fell far behind poetry in appropriate develo[)ment.
Not so, however, romance, whicli continued to ilourisli,
intimately connected as it was with the prevalent bal-
lad spirit so rooted on the peninsula. But it took a
departure from chivalry romance in the j)/raresco, ro^ju-
ish novels, which are distinctively Spanish, yet owe
their rise greatly to Italian fiction. A high standard
was reached in those wherein Cervantes has challen'j,ed
universal admiration.

The establishment ■ f the Bourbon dynasty pre[)arr(l
the way for another change wdiere Italian influencu
was displaced by French. This met with similar op-
position from the national party and affected literature
in a less radical manner than the former, yet it iiifusttl
everywhere a more classic and sedate tone, even wluii
direct application failed. It seems, however, asiftlie
bridle proved also a check on genius, for the eighti'oiiili
century produced no poet at all comi)arable to those
of the preceding period ; but prose was lifted to a
higher level, and early national literature came into
favor transformed to some extent after the new models.
The roj'al academy, founded in 1714, sougthtoconHnn
the taste by praiseworthy efforts in different dire(>tioiis.
notably in the dictionf^ry, its crowning task. (Jallic
influence is above all to be accredited with assist iiiu
to break down the barriers so lonix maintained bv hiu-
otry ; and herein the Benedictine Feijoo proved an
admirable instrument by his long and persevering on-
slaught against the prevailing dialects and scholasti-
cism, and by liis exposition of scientific studies.

That this sketch of peninsula literature ap]>lies to
New Spain is evident from the fact that foreign books
were excluded, while teachers atid guides had neailx
all been trained in Spain. The difference lay in the

OLTi AND NEW SPAIN.

4S9

slowor introduction of changes, in their greater cur-
tailment, and in the modifications imparted by a var-
iuty of races. The Creole was precocious and impul-
sive, but unsustaincd, non-persevering, and his indo-
kiHH' of spirit, added to the non-reflective bent of the
Castilian, imparted a shallowness to hiseftbrts. Nev-
ertheless, the catalogue of prominent writers contains
a large proportion of local names, many of which cast
a lustre that has obtained for them a trans-oceanic
fame.

Among the Indians also a long array of writers
stands forth to redeem the race from tlu- oblo({uy with
wliidi caste,distinclion,and short-sighted policy have
assisted to cover thcni ; and while their mind is ahnost
wholly imitative, lacking in breadth and subtlety,
and strikingly devoid of imagination and invention,
vit tlii'ir ai)titude for masterinsjj mechanical details
tends to hide many imperfi'ctions. It would seem as
if tlie bloody rites, monarchial (lesp(>tism, and popular
Serfdom had from remotest times left an hnpressiou
on their literary eflbrts.

In aboriginal times they were naturally lianipered
bv the imperfect svstem of writing, which consisted
chiefly of figurative and synd)olic characters, with a
luei'e admixture of ])honecic elements. It \\as full\-
understood alone by the priesihood V ho ke[)t the
reeoi'ds, and by the select educated few, while another
less advanei'd class com})re' ended the more connnon
si.!,!is, with their narrow range of exoteric subjects,
and stood in this res[>ect above the mass of the
]iii'ple. The Nahuas, and perlia]>s even more so the
Mayas, stood cons}>icuously forward as the most ad-
vanced in culture on the American continent; and
iiolliing so strikingly illustrates this supei'lority as
tlieir ])icture-writing. llising above the us<> of repre-
sentative and synd)olic pictures as adequatt) oidy for
ti iiiporary purposes, they conceived the idea of ])er-
nianent records, and conse(|[Uently develojjcd and p( r-

mma

400

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

E'- ' i:.i„

fectcd their hieroglyphic system until they had added
a [)li()iietic element. The realization of the want was
the true beginning, was almost the accomplished fart;
all the rest followed as naturally as the plant germi-
nates from the seed. With them the painted like-
ness of glistening drops no longer signified, as in inure
primitive stages, simply the pictured substance atl, as
it would have signified, with equal clearness, irafrr,
eau, or arpia to the Englishman, Frenchman, or S[)aii-
iard; but it conveyed to the reader's mind tlic sound
or syllable utl^ or even a, in many words which retain
in their meanhig and derivation no reference wliat-
ever to the fiuid depicted by the character. Tlic
transition to the phonetic element is strikingly illus-
trated in the illustrated rebuses — children's hierogly-
phics — as when charity is written by drawing in suc-
cession a chair, an eye, and a chest of tea, chair-t'\ o-
tea. The sounds of the word have their meaning.
To the Frenchman the same pictures, chaisc-ocil-
the would have no significance. One stage of do-
velo[)ment only, that from representative syllal)ic
character to an arbitrary literal alphabet, remained, to
which the native American Jittemteur might aspirr.
]^ut we must not picture too broad the gulf that sep-
arates Aztec literature and its aboriLjinal amateurs
from the writer and printer of tlie present day. The
future scribe, seated on the pedestal of the C(niturios,
may consider the dift'erence sli«j:ht, and condemn our
signs as crude.

Every phase of human knowledge is a deveh)pin( nt
from a germ, a result, grand or otherwise, i)uilt hy
gradual accumulation upon small begimiings. The
wheel of progress, now whirling with such lightnin.;
speed througli the nations, accomplished but slowly
and with fre(|uent rests its primary revolutions. And
yet the first triumphs of our race were the most ulo-
rious and the most hnportant. From these li.ivc
sprung all subsequent conquests of mind over matwr.
The naked, primitive man, who, threatened by su[irriur

ABOrJGIXAL ATTEMPTS.

491

animals, first defended l\is life, and opposed brute
fiiicc by intelligent cunning In the use of a projectile,
iMcanie thereby a just claimant to some part of the
lidiior due the inventor of the rifled cannon. The
aboriginal who first bethought hun to call into requi-
istion a floating log for crossing the river, was the true
originator of the ocean steamer. In painting and
sculpture, the actual old masters were those whose
latent power revealed itself by caricaturing in lines
of coal or berry-juice, or rudely modelling in river-
l)ank nmd the forms of familiar objects. In literature,
as in all art and science, "c'est le premier pas qui
( oiite." The first wild bohemian who, by a mark on
a forest tree indicated to him who came after the
route taken, was the founder of written lanixuaj^e.
Ho who signed the tree record with his name, *Tlic
Paiitlier,' by an outline carving of the beast whose
appellation and qualities he had assumed, achieved a
greater triumph than did in later times the inventor
of movable types ; and the first faint conception of a
plionetic hi a<1dition to a purely representative use of
tlie native pictures was one more pregnant with re-
sults in the interests of progress than was that of the
printing-press.

Every wild tribe from Alaska to Pananid, before
its obliteration, had made more or less progress in
representative picture-writing. Their primitivt; pages,
carved or painted on wood or stone, are o}H'n to in-
s]iccti()n in every one of the Pacific states. Some of
the j)ages doubtless contain also symbolic writing ;
suicly manj^of the figures represent no natural object
ill tlie heavens above or the earth beneath. The sav-
a'4'c who, to save labor, gradually oniits features,
limbs, and body from the picture by which he hidi-
( atos 'a man,' until nothing is left but a line arbi-
tiarily crooked, certainly makes no small advance in
tlic direction of shorthand. His idea is a grand one;
111 it that it enlarges greatly at first the scope of his
lecordiug abilities, but by reason of the possible re-

,.,

492

LITERATURE OF COLOXIAL MEXICO.

n: ,; !

*' i

suits to which it may lead. Symbolic writing, in its
abandonment of clues for general interpretation, ofti u
leaves no positive proof of being a class of ciplier; not
a few of the curious characters that so sorely puzzle
antiquarian investigators may be fairly attributed to
the propensity possessed by savages, in conmion with
children, to seek anmsement in the tracing of meaii-

ino-lcss lines.

These picture-pages of American savagism, proving
as they do that their authors were on the roati to let-
ters, arc, nevertheless, utterly devoid of meaning to
us. Enthusiastic attempts to explain their significance
have signally failed, and theories reared on the Digli-
ton rock inscription have proved inapplicable. Thu
ludicrous failure of Domcnech's Book of Savages has
dampened the ardorof many. Representative antl sym-
bolic hieroglyphics, unaided by the phonetic oralplia-
betic element, may rarely be handed down to a follow-
ing generation. Left alone the native germ would
have developed, but it was not so decreed. All honor
nevertheless to the dusky scribes 1 They did wliat
thev could before us in trvinj; to decipher the mystcrv.
Thanks to the efforts of our ancestors for hundreils
of centuries past, rather than to any merit of our
own, we are enabled to work systematically for tlic
attainment of a desired end, and by means and devicis
which shine in comparison with those of the remote
l>ast, as they will pale before those of the less reniotf
future.

The Aztec system of writing, although imperfoct.
was adequate enough to their by no means small nt
sinq)le necessities. By its aid they could intelligil'ly
connnit their language to sheets of cloth or skin, hut
chiefly to long stri|)s of the native inctl, or agave-])aiH'r,
rolled or if preferable folded ftm-like into a form con-
venient for use Thus they recorded the laws of tin ir
complicated code, the tribute-rolls of their conqui rod
domains, ritual tables of feast-days, and sa( iiti<" -^
appointed to honor the divhiities of an over-crow < ltd

AZTEC IlECORUS.

493

pantheon, gcnealogic lists of kings and noble families,
witli the chronology of their succession, and the
events of their respective reigns; in fact their history
—for they, like Europeans of the sanit; age, deemed
tl,e deeds only of kings and priests worthy of the
ivcorder's notice.

Over this magic hieroglyphic art a veil of mystery
was cast. The priesthood controlled it as they did
all else in this American Middle Age, and only a
cjioson few could as})ire to fathom its secrets. The
million could only stand aloof and wonder as they
listened to the vague rumors afloat respecting the
wonderful powers of the god-liko literati with their
(harmed scrolls.

The last native triumph in letters was won. Fate,
(Mivious of their indigenous success, refused to the
Americans a few centuries more in order to enlarge
and perfect what they had so nobly accomplished.
Their literature and civilization, their priesthood and
religion, withered at the touch of foreign interference,
never to revive. Not only was the further unfolding
ef Xahua letters effectually checked, but the light
which the Aztec records might have shed on the
.Vinerican past was in a great measure extinguished
ill the flood of foreign fanaticism. Before the coming
ef the Europeans the native documentary records,
comparatively few in number, were collected in the
l'iinei])al religious centres, and locked in the archives
ef the capital cities, there to be seized and destroyed
hy order of catholic bishoj)s. Not alone to the barba-
rian invasions, civil broils, or Roman catholic zeal is
lino the hiffimy of book-burning, an infamy as nmch
more odious than human slaughter as knowledge is
i>ettor than life. The calif Omar burns the writings
ef the Greeks lest thev should not aq-ree with his
holy book; the catholic fathers burn the writings of
the heathen lest they should not agree with their
I'lybook; and later and stranger infatuation than
all, protestants burn the books of the catholics be-

I I I

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

cause in their opinion they do not fairly represent the
faith wliicli both accept. In the rei'^n of Edward IV.
the reforming visitors of the un'.versity of Oxford
I)urged the public library of popery; leaving only a
manuscript of Valerius Maxinms, they burned tlio
remaining writings in the market-place, or sold tliciii
to low artificers, A cartload of manuscripts, includiiiLj;
even mathematical fi<>-ures, rubrics, and astronomical
demonstrations, was thus taken from the library of
Merton collejxe.

The Revercndissimo Scnor Don Fray Juan Zuniih--
raga, a most venerable and illustrious Franciscan, was
a man of great learning, as learning then went. A
native of Durango, a city of northern Spain, his early
life was devoted to the strict observances of the ruKs
of his order, which led to his appointment as guardian
of the convent of Concepcion, and later of Abrigo, r
convent near Valladolid, whither Charles V. was wont
to retire during holy-week ; and so greatly pleased
was the monarch with the priest's devotion, that wlieu
Cortes captured Montezuma, Zunuirraga was made
first bishop of Mexico. His zeal was surpassed only
by his bigotry ; and for this the natives had reason to
curse, while blessing him, because he discouraged their
indiscriminate abuse.

Zumdrraga was a good man, a pious man, an honest
man. His was an enlightened conscience in so far as
light had as yet reached this planet. His trouble
was excess of conscience. His piety overwlielnied
his humanity. He would do men good if he had to
torture or slay in order to accomplish it.

Because, forsooth, the Christian's devil lurked be-
tween those barbaric pages ; because characters uncx-
plainable by papal Daniels must be scrawls of Satan,
traced by pitchy fingers to the eternal confounding'
of these poor heathens; because of a learned infatu-
ation well nigh incomprehensible to us of the pres nt
day, there must be sacrificed and lost to progres-
sive man treasures inestimable, pictures of primitive

ABORIGINAL HISTORY.

405

thought, incipient civilizations, of a projj^ross in some
i(s[K'cts which might put to blush that of these icono-
clastic teachers.

]*]ven were those heaps of horrible scrawls what
you regarded them, oh I holy fanatics, better to
lla^ e kept them amongst us, better to have kept and
wild these written instructions of Lucifer, and to
luivo learned therefrom, to our further safety, how by
jiis arts he deluded these poor barbarians, than by
tire to have sent his missives back to him unopened,
liut now both Aztec manuscripts and fanatic fathers
];avc gone their way.

Saved from the fires which Zunuirraga's bigotry
kindled, or copied by ecclesiastical jierinission before
serving as food for the purifying flames, or trans-
scribed from memory by converts, many specimens of
}>icture-writing were sent by the conquerors to S}>ain
ill tlie sixteenth century as curiosities of New World
art. These excited momentary attention by their
mysterious devices ; then thev were scattered, and for
two centuries forgotten. When attention was again
(lirocted to these relics of an extinct civilization, and
tlicir importance began to be appreciated, starch was
made throughout Europe, and such scattered reni-
iiaiits as survived their long neglect were gathirtd
and deposited in public aud private libraries. Eight
<ir ten such collections were formed, and most of their
contents, with plates and ex{)lanations, published
hy Lord Kingsborougli in a work of nine mammoth
folios, which cost him his reason and his fortune.
His reason was wasted in the absurd atteiniit to prove
the Jewish origin of American indigenous races.
If bulk or bull-dog determiiiation can prove a propo-
sition, surely this half-d(>mented English lord should
ho Itelieved, and all mankind forever agree with him
tliat the American aboriginal descended from the ten
lost tribes of Israel, which wandered over to these
sh(tres, either by sea or land, and here, abandoned by
their god in their propagations, became dusky and

11-)

i1:

490

T.ITEUATURE OK COLONIAL MEXICO.

degenerate, so that later, Christians coming hither
might easily kill them.

The remnants of Tezcuco's ahoriginal archives were
hequeathed by her last king to his lineal descendant,
Ixtlilxochitl, who used them extensiveh', albeit imt
always judiciously, in his voluminous historical writ-
ings. From this scion of a royal race, these may Ix'
traced more or loss clearly as in the j)osse.ssion suc-
cessively of Sigiienza, Boturini, Veytia, Ortega, Leon y
Gama, Pichardo, and Sanchez, and finally to tlie
National Museum of the University of Mexico, tlnir
[trescnt and proper place of deposit.

In the hands of some of these owners a portion of
the manuscripts were scattered; others by personal
research augmented their collection, as Boturini, who
added 500 specimens. Tlujse were confiscated by t]ie
government, but surrendered to the historian Veytia
for consultation in the pre[)aration of his work on
aboriginal history. Gemclli Careri and Clavigcro
had had similar access for public benefit. At tlio
death of Leon y Gama, a portion of his inheritid
hieroixlvphic treasures was sold, and from tliis souivc
Humboldt obtained some specimens for tlie Berlin
collection.

During the revolution and subsequent civil war,
many papers were transferred to Europe, and mostly
secured by M. Aubin. Still, a rich collection re-
mains in the Mexican archives, and ardent students
of the Aztec hieroglyphic system are not wantini;,
from whose researches the future has much to leaiii
respecting the American past. The zeal of a few na-
tive scholars,and the practical use made of the nativ(>
pictures before the courts during the vears followin'^'
the conquest, fortunately prevented a loss of the key
to their interpretation.

Respecting the value of the native records <le
stroyed there can be only conjecture. That tin'
Aztecs felt the need of recording their past, and pi 'rf-
sessed a hieroglyphic system fully adequate to tiiO

NAllUA WRITIX(;S.

407

purpose, and yet did not use it, is ha xlly to be sup-
poMxi. There can bo no manner of doubt that they
wrote all they knew concerning their history ; tlie
only question is how much they knew. The annals
were ccrtaiidy detailed and tolerably accurate for the
two centuries of Aztec domination ; but prior to that
nation's rise, the point where history fades into tradi-
tion, in American as in Old World annals, cannot be
definitely fixed. Traditionally, the branches of the
Xaliua i)coples preceding that known as the Aztec
were no less skilled in the art of picture-records ; l)ut
tiiulition also tells us that the scrolls with pre-Aztec
annals were destroyed by one of the Mexican mon-
arclis, ambitious to blot from the knowledge of hu-
man kind all details of greatness preceding and
exceudhig that of his own achievements.

The Nahuas were proficient also in other phases of
intellectual development, as instanced by the remark-
able knowledge of astronomy and other branches set
fortli in my iXafive lidccs. jVIoreover, there existed at
Tczcuco an institution under the name of Council of
^lusic, whose exclusive aim it was to foster arts and
sciences, and above all oratory, poetry, and similar
literary efforts. Its members, selected purely on the
Hi'ound of ability, held daily sessions, and formed a
tribunal which decided on the merits of productions
by authors, and conferred prizes that were at times
niunilicent. This academy exerted a decided hifluenco
tlii'oughout Anahuac, for the Acolliua capital, although
iSt'condary to Mexico in political power, retained the
leading position in arts and refinement acquired dur-
ing the days of Chichimec grandeur.

The emulation evoked and the taste impressed
under such auspices could not fail to produce their
ctfocts. Oratory received particular attention, owing
to its intimate connection with public and social affairs
and life, for speeches were the rule on every conceiva-
ble occasion. Prayers to the gods were of a most

Essays AND MiscKLi.ANY ^2

5 m !

If ^v

1 I

!..' ,

lilHBM 1 i'-M

408

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

elaborate character ; addresses salutatory or of ct)ii-
dolence, and diriner-speeches received studied caic ;
declaiiiations and harangues flowed incessantly at
feasts or reunions ; corres[)()ndencc was largely caniid
on by orators. If with all this fostenng care the ait
does not possess any marked excellencies, the fault
must be attributed to the lack of imaginative powf r
so generally assumed for the aborigines. Indeed, tlic
style of the orations so abundantly recorded by Salia-
gun and other writers is bald, with rare outbursts of
eloquence, and with similes as a rule stupid or coin-
monplace. The range of the latter are limited to
certain choice objects ever before the eye, rather tlian
to the grand or subtle phenomena which stir reflertioii
and poetic instinct. Thought and language alike
rather abstain from lofty flights, to grovel with tlio
speaker in self-abasement. Terror and awe find fre-
quent display, with maudlin plaintiveness, to whicli a
response of tears is readily accorded. These retirct
the despotic government and bloody rights whicli en-
slaved both mind and body. Apostrophe and ein-
pliasis dwindle into feeble wails and appeals, while re-
dundancy and periphase with loose sentences charac-
terize the construction, if we may judge by Spanisli
translations. The garrulous and didactic prevail.

Of poetic efforts fewer specimens have been }>ro-
served to us, but the most authentic are eA'idently by
a man of greater inspiration, from Tezcuco itself tlic
Athenian centre, with its purer idiom and greater
refinement. The poet is King Nezahualeoyotl,
famed as philosopher and law-giver, whose mind liad
freed itself in a dejxree from the shackles of bloodv
and debasing superstition around him, and souglit a
mightier God, a primordial cause. Full of vicissi-
tudes, his life displayed to him rather sad phases ami
his verse assumed an elegiac cast.

The abundance of treasures and joys, And nectar is sipped by the ln-e,

Are but noHCgays that wither and die. So ye enter to revel,

As the birds tlirill their melody, In the seasoua of flowering spring.

ABORIfllNAL POETRY.

409

In another poom he dwells on the qualities and
svinl)(>ls of precious stones with les8 happy eftect ;
liut in spcakin'4' of the brevity of life he again presents
uttraetive shniles:

'lilt! rose preserves its beauty of color and aspect so long as the chaste
liul-; tnlU'ct tlidse particles foriiicd hy dawn into rich pearls, to be evapo-
rated in li(|iiid spray.

Kivers, brooks, and waters rush onward, never returning to tlieir joyous
Sdiiii fs. Tliey rather hasten tow;',rd llio vast domains of 'I'luluca (Neptune),
and on approauiiing tlie wide iMirder tliey fasluon the gloomy funeral urn.

Till! awe-inspiring tomb is really a cradle for the sun ; the dismal shades
ai'u lirilliant liglits for stars."

Owing to distortions by translators it is difficult to
form an opinion concerning the real merits of the
jdi'ces ; the above lines can hardly be relied u[)on.
Kcverthelcss, beauty of comparisons must be ad-
mitted, with a preference for native objects, and even
cliaracterizes the natives to this day. A true poetic
spirit is evinced far above anything indicatetl in ora-
toriral and other prose extracts. The longer poem
cited in the Native R(trcs, while marked l)y several ef-
fective outbursts, is uneven, with a reiteration of
metaphor tliat reveals circumscribed power. The
similarity of strain pervading Nezaliualcoyotrs verses,
and the tendency displayed in oratory, indicate tliat
tlu' liappiest efforts were produced when sa<!ness
stirred the emotions. Rhyme does not appear to have
been used, but cadence and metre received much at-
tention, with a preference for iaml)ic verse, according
to Granados. The introduction of unmeaning sylla-
bles to accommodate the measure seems to have been
common, and the frequent use of agglutination, in ac-
cordance with the character of the language, encum-
bers the verse with ponderous words, sometimes a
single word to a line. These crudities must greatly
reduce the glowing estimates by Clavigero and other
champions.

With the advent of the Spaniards a more perfect
Liiiguage came to the assistance of native thought.
The multiplicity of aboriginal dialects rendered not

.')1MI

LITKUATUUK OF COLONIAL MKXIC'O.

iii)(lcsiriil)lo tlio adoption ajiionjr all classc^-.s ofatoiiyuc
so smooth and uniform as tin- S|»iuiish. lint m.iiiy
new olhstacleH intervened aj^ainnt any marked (l(^\('l-
opment. Besides politieal and aoeial restrietions, :iii
intense reli^^ious spirit entered into every feature of
life, plaein;^ the children of the soil espeeially in eiosc
leadinijr-strinj^s, from which they were never released.
While the rliaraeteristie mental defects remained ;m
oh.staele, the imitative bent enahled the Indians to
readily adaj)t themselves to the wider field openetl.
Their Spanish poetry, modeh^d on the productions of
sj)iritual guides, does not indicate in its crudenessaiid
me(hocrity the liberation of a mind hitherto shackled
l)V lanijcuaije; vet these defects may be due partlv to
the novelty of medium ami the limitation of raiine hy
subinissiveness and biiijotry. Translations into native
tongues, chiefly of religious discourses, vocabularit s
and grannnars, form a large part of tlieir contribu-
tions; and so do sermons by ordained and lay preach-
ers; while the more valuable part ridatcs to ancient
history and rites, based on documentary and tradi-
tional records, interesting and absorbiuijc to them from
patriotic motives.

Among the more prominent writers may be nicii-
tionetl three bearing th(^ princely name of Ixtlilxocliitl,
Fernando Pimentel, his son Antonio, and Fernaiidn
de Alva, all three intent chiefly on recording the
glories of cheir Acolhuacan ancestors. Alva stands
in the foremost rank of earlier Indian historians, both
for style and extent of writings, as manifested in t lie
I/istoria (lii('}ii)ii('<'a and l\claciofic.'<, the latter a series
of versions of the same aboriginal Viistory. Indeeil.
his diction is so ftir above the av irge of his surround-
ings for clearness, [)urity, and conciseness, as to have
procured for him the name of the Cicero of Analuia:'.
But the structure of sentences is uneven, and only ton
frequently lax and ambiguous. The general grasp of
the subject is fair, but less so the conformity of details.
Juan de Tovar, who also obtained the Ciceronian

E'. ,

CLASSIC AZTKC W ITF.RS.

( li'itlu't for his profirionry in Aztoc, i^avo a more liln'ral
>\\i\vv. in liis liistory of the lake rt'jjjioii to }>r(»viiii(h
;i(lj(iiniiig tlic classic Tczcuco, as tlid his father, An-
tonio Tovar, while Tczozonioc devott'd himself moi'e
to the south-west section of the valley. The latter
iuccs greater appreciation for the deseiiptixe,
hough lacking in spirit and power of cX))ression,
" ' The

(A
i.lt

with a more prolific and crude phraso(»logy
annals of the valiant TIascaltecs again found less
finished recorders in such men as Tadeu jMiza, Ca-

margo, and Zajiata y

]\Icnd

( tza

iniialitam ranks

liiLilier and is more critical; Poniar wrote on ancient
ritis; A sji'i'iero ranked hi'»h amon<'' iihilolouic contrihu-
tors, ami the hrotlu'rs Ortega attained distinction in
ecclesiastic suhjects."

The lack of imagination is

!],,,

i*Y'nt thi'ou<>hont

tln.se productions in the utter indill'en'iice to dramatic
opltortunity, and in the feebleness of descrijttive
cilorts. It can also be recoixiiizcd in the verv excel-

ncy of the oi)enmg paragraplis.

whicl

1 procec

d at

once

to the subject instead of wasting theniscKis
n]M)n Horid and often ina}»[)roj>riate prologues, as wiih
Spanish writers of the time. The poverty of lan-
uviage herein manifested is also revealed in the wanl

bellishmi'iit, so that the dicti<tn is rathei- bare,

while obscure pleonasms, at tnnes veiy marked,
It suit from the same di-fect. T\ic charaeteristii'
ulooniy disj)()sition croj)s out fre(|uently, and so do
llif inherited manifestations of awe in alluding to

u;j,e or grand oi)

■>nii

jeet^

Keligi

ions intlueiices have here

planted aboriginal terroiism, ini[>ressiiig up(»n the
mind its own littleness, antl assisted bv the inherited
mysticism, account in a measure for the poverty of
l.inLiuaixe. A veiled satire can be traced in manv of

le writinos, in consonance with the observant vet

id tl

y dispositU)ii, and the suspicions subserviency

.f tb

natives. These several traits have widely stamped
tlit'iiiselves upon the new mestizo race, in topics, treat-
ment, and diction; yet tlie sanguine and vi\acious

502

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

i: sat "

teinpcramoiit impartod l)y the superior Iberian stock
li.is naturally maintained the ascendancy for tlu;
Spanish typo, so assiduously impressed during a pro-
bationary period of three centuries, by masters, lan-
<'ua<j:c, and national atiiuitv.

During the colonial times it is often difficult to draw
the line in the literature of New S})ain between [)ro-
ductions that properly belong to it and those tluit
appear to do so. Tliere are writers born on the penin-
sula but educated in colonies; some arrive there at a
later age, yet are manifestly influenced by their new
environments; while others remain in sympathy
and methods true to old ideas; and still otlier.s, of
Creole birth, receive their training in Spain, with its
political and literary impress, or they remain there to
gather laurels which belong by rights to jNTcxicd.
Again, in early times especially, a large proportion of
their writers were Spaniards who remaincxl only fora
time in quest of fortune, yet whose productions W( re
wholly inspired by New World associations, which
affected to a great extent also the form. We can, fur
instance, hardly fail to associate with the writings »if
this country the celebrated Cartas of Cortes wliicli
depict therein much of th.e beauty and wealth Hint
have since disappeared ; which took an impress from
it by means of the political and social sj'inpathits df
the author, and which left an influence as one of its
most [)rolific sources f)r history, and as a model for
style in lucid, pure, and frequently elegant diction.

As for Bernal Diaz, the gossippy old-soldier chron-
icler, he was really modeled by newworhl experiences,
and his camp and field life may be recognized in Uhi
frank and graphic descriptions and occasional cjmkIc
outbursts of eloquence, while the similes due te a
certain amount of classic read iuij, and the monotoneiis
garrulity, wi^re acquired during later retirement as
colonist. For over half a century is he ideiititi'il
with New Spahi. And so with many others, csiieci-

M • U

FRIAR AND SOLDIER CHRONICLERS.

503

ally of friar chroniclers, who not only grow up with
tlirir districts, but train the generation as teachers
and writers. Such a one was Father ^lotolinia,
Avliose rambling and naive writings characterize his
Y\\\i and mind, and serve as material for subseqent en-
(juirers into aboriginal and early colonial society and
incidents.

Several of his robe follow the example, from duty
or from a desire to record deeds by themselves and
coui[)anions — deeds in the missionary field, for the
cross gi'adually replaces the sword and becomes the
(loininant symbol of conquest and rule. And how
stirring are the incidents attending these invasions
tlirough the midst of hostile and savage tribes, through
arid wildernesses, in rugged mountain regions, along
malaria-stricken shores, fighting both men and nature 1
At times soldier and friar unite, or the one paves
the way for the other; but more and more the
l(tiig-robe advances, alone and unarmed to suifcr priva-
tions, rebuffs, insults, and danger of every descrij)tion,
ottcn to meet a martvr's fate. When successful,
liow great is the triunq'h of virtuous example, of
cl(i([uence, of superior mind over inferior intelligence;
and how glorious is often the result 1 It is the
iidvcnt of the modern-culture hero, who gathers
roaming tribes into settlements, transft)rms the bare
•ground into blooming gardens, clothes the naked, cares
for the sick, and re[)kiccs base or l)loody rit(>s with
gentle, elevathig worship. Turn our eyes wherever
wo may and these peaceful heroes meet them, no
longer as of yore deified, but slu'ltcred beneath for-
gotten tonil)stones, autl their names and acts com-
memorated alone in some vague tradition, and in the
clironicles by tli(nnselves or their brethriMi.

Unfortunately the record is not in the form of epic,
or invested with ^- mantic glamour, but in the barest
or most turgid «.i ])rose, weighted with insufferable
vt'rhiago and ambiguity, and by crude and careless
construction, while inapprt>priate digressioiis tend still

;('■

■

:ii'i

504

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

further to break the interest. It is a dreamy discon-
nection in which both writer and reader lose thcin-
selves, with numerous pitfalls dug by credulity and
superstition; the whole stamped by the scholastic
method that prevailed till close upon the present cen-
tury. Such is the average character of the friar
chronicles and provincial histories; and no wonder,
then, that the most splendid achievements are so
veiled in the obscurity of treatment and of poor, pe-
dantic or inflated language as to remain unnoticed or
misunderstood by the ordinary reader, and to requiri
the careful labor of the student to disclose. Tlie
style was a natural result partly of imperfect train iiio-,
for the friars were not well-read, any more than tlui.se
in Spain; and even the studies of the more educated
had a very narrow range, chiefly thcoh)gical lore,
while few had ventured into classic or scientific pre-
cincts. They wore not taught to sift and weigh ; tlicy
accepted almost any tradition with the naive confi-
dence demanded of true believers. Their minds had
ever been directed to the holy precepts of their order,
as paramount to any knowledge, according to St
Francis, and they regarded it a duty to their own re-
pute and to their order to impress this upon tlie
reader. While the countr3'men of Lope de A'c^a
cannot be said to lack dramatic power, these chroni-
clers seem to avoid the use of it, or the disj^lay of ap-
preciation for the grand, the beautiful. It is mcvo
tedious narrating of details, wherein the general and
important features are almost lost, with special atten-
tion for traits of virtue and piety that can point a
moral and afford an excuse for digression.

"Whatever the defects of these Chnhiicas de Ins J'/n-
viitclas, they arc in many respects the most important
and valuable source of information concerning f 1 e
Hispano- American territory. As the largest jwiit
of the country was occupied by mission estabnsli-
ments, and as the work of exploration and con-
quest of the native races was so largely' carried on

i^H

niOVIXCIAL HISTORY.

505

under the auspices of the church, those chronicles
constitute an ahnost complete record of the earlier
periods of history. Some of them were written in
the chronicle form direct, as a record for the particu-
lar district or circle with which the author was con-
nected ; yet they passed like ordinary mission reports
to the head convent of the provincia, there to bide
tlio time when the leaders of the order should assi«rn
ti» a specially fitted member the task of compiling from
them an authorized chronicle.

h\ accordance with this procedure, Mendicta pre-
jiiivd at the close of the sixteenth century the most
CO Mi; let?, history so far of Franciscan labors in New
iSj'iin '- ferspered with matter on politics and society.
Vv !al; ii .^ showiiiLT u'reat talent, the writer cannot be
iK-('u W'a\ of verboseness, and the style hastho advantaijje
of a simplicity which promotes clearness. It would
f^ppoarthat the defect of diction became so tjjlarinj^ to
the compiler that he perforce corrected himself.

This is also evident in Torquemada, who, throujjjh
tht; failure of Meudicta's work to appear in print till
our time, took advanta'jjc of his labor, as well as a h()st
of other writini^s, to ifmxiotliG 3I'n)aTqv fa hidicnia, which
;ittained the just distinction of standard history for
Now Spain, and fame for the author as the Livy of this
iv^iou. He enil>rac!;d every historic knowled,L?o within
his n^ach, frou/i the earliest aboriginal times, includiny:
rites, society, str.ini^e phenomena, the achievements
of liis Fra'u !Sr \r' ( rdtT, and the lives of its niembers.
11.0 rises above t'u; n rre monk chroniolor and strives
to interest his ien»I( rs by variety of tojiies.as well as
hv^ treatment, which n-ceives no inconsiderable aid
from a descrijitive pi»wer of rare occurrence among
his confreres; other faults remain, however. Wliile
concise enoujjfh in llu^ narratlv(( 'jfcnerally, lie abandons
himself to inappropriate dv-»viations and wordy arufu-
ii'iit, and '-^vels in l(>arned references. Ife is en-
'iross(>(l v»"t . 'lio out]ioui'intjr of liis]mtristic and classic
h ire, rather :xu with critical consideration, and to

li
m

< 1

500

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

tliis end sacrifices also phraseology^ which is marked
in particular by numerous parentheses.

A less voluminous but more prolific writer on polit-
ical, civic and relisjjious history is the creole, Fatlur
Augustine de Vetancurt, who in his Tcairo covers
very nearly the same ground as Torqueinada, with
additional matter for the seventeenth century. All
this he condenses in a much smaller space ; and it is
only in the religious subjects more directly from his
own pen that he yields to discoursive laxity.

An earlier creole, Friar Antonio Tello, author of
Cro } I ira de Jalisco o^ ahont 1650, excels in vivid por-
trayal and a certahj •' ^'? atic skill, although the dic-
tion hardly displaj's a ^ ortionate advance ; but this
is the fault of his school, iiot of his mhid, wherein pa-
triotic zeal for his native provinces combines with nat-
ural abilities to produce one of the most attractive
colonial writers.

Inferior in style is the history of the same province
writt( n nearly a century later by Mata Padilla, a
townsman of Tello. His earlier profession as a Liw-
yer and his later adhesion to the priesthood are u-'th
discernil)le hi an occasional forensic form, and in the
preference given to miracles and church matter, neither
of which lends interest to the pages or raises o ., esti-
mate of his judgment.

Ecjually defective is the Cronica de ^Fechocan by
Beaumont, born in Europe, partly of French descent,
and educated as a physician before he became a Fran-
ciscan. While pretending to record merely the ])ro-
gress of his religious provincia in Michoacan, he plans
it on a scale ambitious enough for a history of the In-
(I'^iS, and fiiils to carry his task beyond 15G5. The
same inequality applies to expression, niarred also ly
faulty Spanish, and to discrimination, which is over-
ruled by pertinacity and religious bias. These blem-
ishes are less excusable for the advanced period in
which the work was written, about 1777.

Contemporary with Vetancurt were the friars Ual-

WORKS OF THE FATHERS.

007

tasar Medina and Diivila Padilla, both natives of Mex-
ico, and ranking as Franciscan and Dominican chron-
iclers respectively. The former cxliibits more research,
but also an excess of patristic lore, combined with an
exalted inflation, while the latter inclines to digres-
sions and moralizhig. The worst features of these
monk scribes, coupled with defective treatment
ocnerall}^ are displayed in the first Jesuit chronicle
of tlic same period, by Francisco de Florencia, born
ill Florida, but otherwise wholly connected with
N( w Spain. And yet this man had achieved fame
n< a preacher and distinction as a manager for the
socictv.

It is evident that prose, wiMi the rare exceptions
si;j;nalized in such men as Siglienza and Tello, does
not show any imj)r()vementduring the first twocenturies
and a half of colonial ruh% either in treatment or style.
Scholastic methods and ideas retained too firmly the
control, throughout the marked variation introduced
by the Gongora school, with its soaring inflations.
Solis became here one of the great models for orna-
DU'iital form, by means of his famous history of the
conquest, which also assumed the Thucydidean manu-
facture of speeches. If floridity itself did not become
general, it nmst be partly ascribed to the slower ac-
ceptance of the changes effected in Spain, owing to
the cultivation of older models; partly to the unsus-
tained exaltation of the Creoles and the lack of imaofi-
nation among the natives. The rarer mestizo writers
evince, indeed, less appreciation for the cultismo style.
The marked pievalence among tlieni of aborighial
traits is manifested also in naivete and crudeness of
diction, while a tendency to flippancy and verbiage is
derived from the other race. A representative of
this class may be consulted in Father Duran, who re-
veals in the Hisforia de las Indias not only povert}' of
ex])ression, but a slovenly pen. It is relieved, how-
even', by earnestness, and a certain ability to portray
character. The contemporaneous Noticlas Ilidoricm

608

LITEIlA'rUllE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

of Suarez Poralta di.si)]ays many similarities to the
clironicle of Beriial Diaz.

Towards the end of the last century the revival
emanating from France in favor of a more classic and
sedate tone became conspicuous, notably so in the
writiii!:^ of the Jesuits, Alegre, Clavigero, Cavo, and
Mariano Veytia, who raidc as the foremost historians
of their period in New Spain. All were Creoles l)y
birtli, and animated by the patriotic spirit which was
rai)i(lly sj)readiiig, and fostered both political and lit-
erary ambition. Clavigero had acquired a sympathy (( ir
the aborigines, and resolved to ui)hoId their prestige
against tlio attacks of Do Pauw and Robertson. The
result was a work on their history and customs, to-
gether witli the Spanish conquest, that wholly eclipsed
every previous attempt in this direction for couiprc-
henslveness and philosopliic treatment, for clear and
even elegant style. It was written in the language
of Italv, v-^he^e the exiled Jesuit had soui^ht a new
home, but the dedication is directed to the native
country. Veytia wrote also on the ancient history
of the Mexicans, from Boturini's collected records;
but while throwing additional light on the subject, lie
shows far less ability. I have spokon of his other
works elsewhere.

His townsman, Francisco Javier Alegre, had a sim-
ilar training, except that he devoted himself to classics
instead of aboriginal studies, and attained such dis-
tinction in theology as to be ordered to write on ecil-
siastic institutions, his famous work being publislu il at
Bologne in 178D, a jear after his death. Besides sevt-
ral treatises on mathematics, he translated the IHnd,
and pnuluced original poems. His sentences are stud-
ied and the diction is chaste and unaffected, but tlic
same praise cannot be accorded to the arrangement, and
consefjucntly to handling, which lack connection and
generalization, while subtle casuistry and doubtful ra-
tiocination seek ever to shield or gild the Jesuit cause.

CREOLE WRITERS.

."509

Andres Cavo is not devoid of the latter fault, but
lie has less occasion for it, since lie writes rather the
[lolitical history of the country. While more succinct
and orderly, he is too strictl}' chronologic for the re-
quirements of true history, and sinks through this
iiictliod into the annalistic form to which Alegro is led
by a somewhat different road. His style is less pu.e
ami rounded, yet not diffuse. The pages present the
jjliasing evidence of research in foot-notes, which, as a
rule, however, are mere titles of authorities used.
Still, it is a departure from the long-established fashion
of marginal references for quotations, with which the
text was burdened to the interruption of the regular
narrative. A smaller size of volume also begins to
prevail in lieu of huge folios or bulky quartos with
(l()ul)le columns. The influence of new models is
everywhere apparent.'*

Biography was a field to which churchmen gave
much attention, as a means to inculcate upon their
Hocks the lessons taught by the observance of virtu-
ous and ascetic friars and hermits. But the aim nmst
iiave been greatly nullified by n^jthod. Amplification
of pitty details concerning the uninteresting lives of
su( h persons, with monotonous recurrences to their
(lovotional acts in cell and cha])el, and to crude rha})-
sodies, could hardly have given weight to their instruc-
tion. Nevertheless, the earnest tone of the narrator
must have inffuenced the reader, while the exalted
mysticism of the topic could not fail to counteract
ill a measure the defects of stvle. Involved ijlirase-
olooy mio'ht almost be declared suitable for such do-
tails, and rambling discourse accorded with the general
gossippy taste. After Gongora's time grandil()(|uen('e
added its faults and allurements, and is paiticularly
illustrated in the obituary eulogies bestowinl on
Wealthy hulividualsand pul)lished by devoted families.

Toward the end of the colonial period we conu; to
Works of greater merit, as instanced in De Vitis allqaot

610

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

Mcxkanorum, by Juan Luis Manciro, ati exiled Jesuit
of Vera Cruz. Here is displayed the yearning patriot-
ism of the refugee, combined with the classic bent of
the scholar, the lives and charactei'S of prominent
men in little known Aniihuac bein«jc faithfully por-
trayed, while fellow-exiles, as Clavigoro and Landivar
described her antiquities. Although there is no jti»-
parent effort at the investigation or analysis re<|uir» d
in modern biography, the author enters with s])irit into
his subject, and introduces most happy comparisons,
frequently expressed in neat and graceful sentences.

The first efforts in didactic treatises were directed
toward the civilizing of the natives, or rather tlieir
conversion, for little instruction was imparted, save
in religious lessons and the rudimentary knowledge
required to master them. The catechisms and moial
disquisitions in use were based on authorized versions
from Spain ; but their translation for the benefit of
teachers and pupils gave rise to an array of vocabu-
laries and grammars, owing to the multiplicity of lan-
guages and dialects, as set forth in my Native Jxacn^.

The natives appear prolific in this field, either as
assistant or independent authors, yet they were an-
ticipated by early friars, such as Father Gante, Jime-
nez, and Molina, whoso Aztec Foca6w^am remains tlie
standard to this day; and later they were surpassed
by such men as Becarra Tanco.^'

To the friars also are mainly due the educational and
philosophic treatises occasionally issued, as well as
works on geography, botany, and medicine. In none
of these is shown any marked development, although a
few discoveries were made with which to supplement
the more valuable and standard books by speeiaHsts,
which either covered the field beforehand or seived as
guides toward it. Alegre and Palafox figure promi-
nently as writers on ecclesiastical institutions.

Ancient history, and rites and speculations con-

DIDACTIC theatises.

811

ncctcd witli it, had naturally engaged tlio attention of
putriotic natives, allured by ancestral gh^ries and rec-
ords, which often proved their only consolation amid
the oppression practised upon them ; but the investi-
gation of archaiologic remains was neglected, and only
toward the close of the last century did it receive
official patronage, and become prominent under the
auspices of scholars like Gama.

The revelations made in this connection on nboriir-
iiial astronomy gave fresh encouragement m general
to scientific studies, in which there had so far been
only occasional dabbling. The earliest to achieve
prominence in this field was Sigiienza, a man of most
versatile attaiinnents, figuring also as historian, phil-
osopher, essayist, and journalist, the first to issue in
^[oxico, in 1603, a periodical for promoting literary
and scientific knowledge. His voluminous writings
embraced contributions on archa^ologic subjects and
geography, and ho created wide-spread attention I)}'-
liis attacks on superstitions connected with comets and
astrology. While so nmch in advance of his time in
these respects, he was by no means free from bigotry
in other directions. He rciected the most flatterin<jf
appointments in order to devote himself more exclu-
sively to religious and benevolent duties, and to study.
His fertile pen had recourse also to poetry, of a sacred
cast, and of no mean order, as may be judged from the
attractive, even elegant style of his prose.

Hardly less versatile was Becerra Tanco, as math-
ematician, linguist, and poet, and the scientist and
critic Algate, who flourished nearly a century later,
and occupied by means of his Gazcta and other pul)li-
cations a position corresponding to that of the reformer
Foijoo in Spain."

Eguiara and Beristain rank as the first recognized
bibliographers of New Spain, the main reliance for all
who may follow in this path. Their sources lay in
lists partial or complete by chroniclers of religious
provinces, but they unearthed a mass of new material

812

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

anrl njroped also in the pages of European investijjja-
tors, surh as Nicolds Antonio, whoso ty[)ical work,
Jiihliofhcca Uiapana, assuniud under the hands of Mars
and others so complete a condition, marred thougli it
is l)y nmch confusion.

More facts, if less inspiration, did they draw from
Antonio de Leon y Pinelo, who in his Epitome di la
Jjibliofltcca Oriental i Occidental, Ndiitica i (Jcixji-afini,
Madrid 1629, presented the first American hililiog-
raphy. This formed but a small abridgement of the
vast material which his long and close researches liuJ
amassed, and their value becoming nK)re a[)pareiit, J Gar-
cia, in 1737-8, under superior auspices, issued an en-
larged edition, in three volumes, enriched fromdiiferciit
sources, for Pinelo's manuscripts had nearly all disap-
peared by this time. The division indicated in the
title of the first publication is maintained also here,
and a triple index gives ready access to an}^ work ;
but far less care and thoroughness is evident tliau
could have been expected. Pinelo is of special intir-
est to us in being not only a Creole, born in Peru, but
official chronicler of the Indies, and one of the editors
of the Recopilacion de Indias, in which latter post lie
was succeeded in 1634 by Solorzano Pereira, a change
pointing no doubt to his death about this time.

Stinmlated both by the material and deficiencies of
these sources, Juan Jose de Eguiara y Eguren uiKJcr-
took his Bihliotheca Mexicana sive enuUtorum llixiorki
vironim, Mexico 1755, which is really a historical and
bibliographic dictionary of New Spain writers. I n-
fortunately, death in 1763 put an end to his taslc at
the letter J, and only the first three letters appeared
in the above rare volume. Although prolix and non-
critical, the work possesses merits which must ev( r
cause us to regret its abrupt termination. Eguiai-a
was born at Mexico in 1706, of a distinguished familv,
studied at the university there and long held one of
its theologic chairs, receiving a number of important
commissions and in 1751 the offer of the Yucatan see,

PULTMT MKTHODS.

618

wliirli lio declined. He is one of tlie most prolific of
Mexican wi iters on biography, jurisprudence, and
riiictly religious subjects, but only a small part of his
woiks exist in print, of which my library contains more
than a dozen, while bibliographers notice only a few.
His bibliograj)hic manuscripts were not left to ob-
livion, however, for Jose Mariano Beristain Martin do
Souza, of Puebla, dean of ^Mexico and rector of Sau
Pedro college, celebrated both for varied attainments
and eloquence, took up his labors and made use of
them for the Bihliotcca Hiqiano-Amcrkana Seyini'
trhnial, Mexico, 181G-21, contahiing nearly 4,000 lit-
erary notices, which form the most comjdete series
prepared on New Spain, yet are so faulty, with nmti-
liited titles and careless statements, as to induce Icaz-
haleeta to report against the revision and reprint of a
work esteemed chiefly for its rarity. Many of the
clefects,including the omission of anonymous works,
are due to his nephew, who edited the last two
volumes, for Beristain died in 1817 at the age of 61.
He had proved a valiant champion for the expiring
monarchy in the new world, and mostof his ])ublished
orations, poems, and other writings served to uphold
tliat feature, even to servility.'*

It has been said that Spanish genius is opposed to for-
ensic eloquence ; and Iberian institutions certainly were
so to oratory in general, for with the suppression of the
cornvnidadcs no opportunity for parliamentary discus-
sion arose till the present centur3^ Pul})it rhetoric
also met with restrictions in the very nature of the
religion, which was one of form, with appeal to the
senses rather than to the soul. Preachers accordiiiijlv
inclined to descriptive and exhortative appeals to the
oiiKjtions, instead of seeking to reach the higher facul-
ties of the mind. Wliile illustrations from the scrip-
tures formed a primary element, it was deemed neces-
sary to introduce Latin quotations and patristic lore,
and this with such profusion as often to lose sight of

Essays and Miscellany 3a

fis'l"

■;sl •

all

LITKKATUUE OF COLONIAL MKXICO.

the main object, the toac'liiniif of moral lessons.
Others abated somewhat from theoh)gic leariuiii,' (»iilv
to weave the text in florid rcdundaney. A tliird class
reveled in metaphors and mysticisms to such an ex-
tent as to lead astray both preaclier and audience in
the maze of words and ideas. Certain others indulj;! d
in polemical harangues or yielded to an irmate Ix'nt tor
anecdotes, not always appropriate, yet servhig the pur-
pose of vehicle for the exhortation.

Amonijf the bri'dit lisjrhts in these fields mav be in-
stanced the Jesuit Avendano, toward tlie end of tlic
sixteenth century, whose eloquence procured for li'nn
the appellation of the Mexican Vioira; Mancilla, who
acquired celebrity for his anecdotal discourses; licon,
noted for mysticism and metaplior; Ilobles, Jesus
Maria, and others famed for floridity and lore. In
marked distinction to these appear the chaste and
pointed addresses of men like Archbishop JNTufinz do
Haro y Peralta, for a time viceroy, witli his true iiitiral
teachings, drawn from life as well as books, ad(hv>:-
'n\<y now a tender hivocatiou, now an effective aivu-
ment, then a lofty apostrophe, anon a stirring appe;d/'

Another man of remarkable prominence as oiatnr
was Conde y Oqucndo, who figured both in the fi»runi
and the temple of JMexico, although born and eiln-
cated at Habana, and who received the prize of tl it-
royal academy for one of his efforts." Of more pro-
found talent was Francisco Javier Gamboa, the l»rlL,dit
starof jNTexican jurisprudence, from tlie eminence wliicli
he attained as rcjjente of the audiencia, and for tlio
impulse he gave to the studj' of the profession. Ho
was born at (iuadalajai-a in 1717, and early evincM d a
talent which caused his parents to de(ncate liini li> a
literar}' career. After his father's early dcatli Oider
Ccrda of that city fulfilled his desire by sending liim
to the university at Mexico to study law. The pios-
pects in this path were splendid enough for his aniliii leii.
since a lawyer of standing could make as nuu li i»s
$50,000 a year, despite the restrictions placed by

ORATORY.

r>i:

Icssitna.
iiijj; ()ii!y
lird class
I an cx-
jioncr in
indul'j;! (I
! IxMit for

the pur-

ly bo ill-
id of llio
for liiiii
pilla.Avlio

OS, «)csus
lore. ] 11
lasto ill 1(1
iFufioz do
rue iiitiral

ad(lrr>-..
ive nr;iu-
f appeal."'
as oratiir

ho fnVUlll

and c'lu-

IZC of tilt'

iiorc pi'O-
liobrii^ht
ticcwliii'h
1 for the
ion. He
oviiifcd a
liiiii to a
itli Oidor
dinu' liii'i
Vhv juos-
aniliiiioii.
niucli as
ilaocd l>y

statiiu. n Ills yalns. The sudden death of the hct^n-
tiate under wliom lie Avas praetisinii;, j>resented an
opportunity for puhhe display whieh at once launelied
liiiii into lanie. The b(>ard of trad*; entrusted him
ill 17.^5 witli important e«»innnssions in Spain, and so
\\rll did he use the means cast hi his way that lie
^i.;urcd ten years afterward as a member of the audi-
tiifia. Suspected of i)artiality for the Jesuits, he was
ill I70U summoned to Madrid, but behaved with such
(li>('retion as to be sent back five years later with tlu'
laiik of oidor. lie finally attained the high pinsition
of roLTente of the audiencla, after having for a time
(iccupicd a similar office at Santo Domuigo; ho died
ill .lunc 17'.)4. Besides avast number of briefs ho
]( ft, tri'atises on sciences, statistics, and other suljjects.
Of three volumes printed, one, the Comcufarins d las
(>i-<!('nanzas dc Mina.^, was highly commended."

With the example of Caniboa before thoni, and the
av( iiues opened by revolution, the modern !Mexi( an
lias develoj)ed a marked aptitude for at least emo-
ti^iiial oratory, to which impulsiveness, volubility, and
St If-confidcnco lend their aid.

The impulsiveness of the Spanish ch.aracter, cou-
pled with a light guiety which a])peared at variance
Avitli the stately punctiliousness then }>i'evalcnt, but
which really formed a natural oflfset to it, in accord
with universal duality, found an appropriate vent in
iiii'trical motion as well as metrical language. The
two forms agree well together, for the poetry is
chirily lyric and dramatic, and it must be admitted
that little evidence is to be found in verse of the lofty
and sustained efforts demanded in the true epic ; in-
deed the national character has become less favoral)le
for this higher combination. As for the heroic
tliomes of old Spain, they found no effective response
m the indolent Creole: none of the strong imagination
neo<led to mould the fancies of a prevailing oriental-
ism into clearer forms, or to elude the restraints of

S16

LITERATUKK OF COLONIAL MKXICO.

tradition and rule. The latter applies more to tlie
j»i ninsular stamp, however, for Spanish poetry is
strongly national, despite the successive iniiuence of
Italian and French scliools, which afiected it only in
certain features.

The distinctivdicss is duo no less to the nationr.l
character tlian to the n)arked suitability of the lan-
guage for versification, notably in forming rhyme, not
only consonantal, but alliterative and assonaiital.
The last is so common and brought to such perfcctinii
as to be considered a Spanish feature. With its aid
double or even triple rhyme is readily produced, and
poems of consIderal)lo length may be found of o\u'
continuous rhyme, as in Arabic literature. The
S[)aniard in this respect prefers the predominant
intonation to monotonous endings. Notwithstand-
ing the facility for this form of rhythm, gn-at abuse
has crept in, degenerating into mere recurrence of
unaccented consonants, and similar license. Tlie fa-
vorite metre is trisyllabic and redondillas, or oetn-
sy liable quatrains; stanzas of four lines are the nio.^t
connnon form of verso.

While tlie ballad has ever retained its hold ^n
[)opular taste, sonnets were even more fri'(|uent than
ill Spain, as miglit of course be expected from the
prevalent formality and imitation, and the direct in-
iiuence of the Italian school. The true elegy, wiili
its subued gentleness, accords less with Spanish dU-
positlon, and this ajiplies also to satires of a personal
character, but epigrammatic verse is common, thouuli
it inclines to erotic sentiment. The pastoral, which at-
tains so true a ring amid the happy environments of tlu^
Ibi^'ian uplands, fails to obtain a full response, and
descriptive po(>try still sufters from apathetic negli it,
although not to such extent as manifested by the early
Spanish verse-makers, who passed by with conijiarr.-
tivo indiflerencc scenery so stirring as that pn st iit' d
in a transit from the miasmatic lowland of tlie \svM
coast, through the varied features of the tierra f- ni-

rOETKY AND ,SON(J.

517

[tlada wrapped in eternal spring, on to tlie lofty pla-
tiaii scauied with sncjw- peaked ranges and smoulder-
ing volcanoes. Tlie Mexican }»oet turns to nature
iiH identaljy rather tlian from ai>i»reciative admiration,
;iii(l Jike the cliild sj»<)il('d l»y ovi'i-indulgcncc, lit'
virlds it r( luctant tribute, phicing it in subservience
t(i other incentives.

Notwithstanding the obstacles against the higliest
realms of fancy, the faciUties presenteil by the lan-
;j,u;igo and the musical tastes of a vivacious [teoplc
liil to wide-spread attempts in tliis direction, undir
tilt fostering amenities of serenading, of social reunions,
and of fre(iuent religious and official ci'ivmonics. Tin
{■liurch had implanted a })ri'dikction for festivals with
licr numerous celebrations, and tlie Creoles, ever glad
of an excuse, yielded readily to the allui'ement. Too
lUMud to eiiLjan'c in occui)ations in which inferior races
inid classes com[)cted, and allowed only a limited
slian.' of political and ecclesiastical ottiees by a suspi-
ridus government, which favored its more immediate
liruteges, the ujjper colonial elements were forced into
the condition of idlers, led by training to the cultiva-
tion chiefly of letttsrs, and esjtecially of [)oetry, as l)e.st
iii consonance with their indisposition ft»r earnest
;ip]plieation.

Iksides tliese incentives for their muse, oppoituni-
tiis presented themselves in the custom ot"|)articipating
ill the published eflbrts of friends by prefatory obser-
vation? (in the woj-k or its writer, naturally of a eulo-
'iisiic nature, and chielly in metric form. The (»rigin
iif tht' jiractice lay in tlie obligation imp<tse<l by Span-
ish laws for presenting testimony from jtersons of re-
|iutr(! k'urning and of exjieriitice in the sul)ject treated,
and from ecclesiastical and political authorities, vouch-
ing above all for tlii' moral and loyal tone of the book.
Ill order to promote its successful jiassage through
t!i'' censorial office, as well as to court public intert st,
MUtlidi's sought as many influential and frii'iidly coin-
iii' iidations as i>ossible. Not infrequently thes" ea-

iis

618

LITKKATUUE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

! !i'

I i

comimns surpassed in volume and beauty tlie tin mo
itself.

In all this there was little spontaneous outpouiiii^
of soul, hut rather a toyinjjj with verse for pastime and
[)anderinj^ to vanity, to a display of skill in eojistnir-
tion, and acquaintance with classics. The shnj)]c style
of tlie sixteentli century had small attraction for sin li
tritlers, hut as tliey grew in numher, relief canic tu
them during the following century, after a coui'so in
the Ivric channels of Herrera, the dramatic of Cal<lc-
ron, and in the cultismo of G()iigora, Its false glittir
and floridity, its tropes and play on words, secniin! a
revival of the inflation which, under Lucan, niiukcd
the decline of Koman i>oetry. It supplied the lack of
inspiration and ideas with word painting and pedoiitn .
but instead of approaching the combination of stiisi
and gilding of a Pope, it degenerated rnpidly into a
meaningless jingle. Anything was accepUxl, so long
as it rose al)ove des[)ised simj)licitv.

IVIeaningless ti^rnis and phrases are, for that matttr.
common among S[>anish-American3, in harmony alike
with Creole traits and iidierited aboriginal forms. Tli-
lack of imagination among Indians, and of depth and
earnestness among the otlii-r races. C(ind)ine(l heie tu
})rocure for the annriilif^to tdement of the ^jlc'iiigoni
circle a wide and lasting resi^onse ; vet this extiava-
gant iliij^ht in both fancy and diction is bv no nie;iiK
so ina[)[)rt)priate to Spanish language and sjiirit as it
Would he to us. The predominance (»f religious tepics
is due not alone to long, bigoted training, but to n dis-
position among the masses to be readily impressed ly
an exalted mvsticism lost in innnature and lialf-ilrliind
expressions. Another cjiaractcn'istic of the jxietiy is
an intermingling of fanciful, though only too ot'ttii
forced, conceit, manifested in ej)igi"innnatic points niid
half-mischievous jests, corresponding to the f//v" /">"
spirit of the drama, and particularly cons]ncuou> m
the rustic vilhnicico son<j:s, with their refrains, wliioli
form a usual accompaniment to the dance music.

HISTORIC VERSE.

519

Tlio acliievcments of the conquerors could not fail
to stir dcsrendants who at their feet had listened to
narratives of dano-ers encountered and scenes belield.
Indeed, the generation after the subjugation found
tilt' Creole, Antonio de Saavedra y Guzman, initiating
the to[)ic with A7 Jhrf/ruio Indkiiio, which conunenio-
raU'S in offara rima the doin2[s of Cortes and his com-
|>aiiions; but he lacks dramatic instinct and spirit, and
drsccnds to a rhyming chronicler of somewhat vulijar
Stamp.' A similar attempt was made more than a
century later by Francisco Iluiz do Leon, who gives
his e))ic the very ap})ro})riate title of 7/m?«;/<//(/. It
is really a synopsis from Solis, beginning with the
discovery voyages to New S])ain, and closing with the
tall of Mexico, the w'h(*le comprised in twelve cantos
(it'al)out one hundred and twenty octaves each, issued
at j\[adrid in 1755. No appreciation is shown for
scenery, and little tact in depicting incidiMits, or ])or-
travhig character. The strain is more ambitious than
till! preceding, however, with frequent use (»f classic
terms and metaphors, although as a rule forced. For
instance :

Eolo (losata do su (Jruta ojiaca

Kl v(ilul)lo Ks(|ua(lr()n, (juo en siivos rouoo.-s,

Rompe los Mdiitcs, cmi <juo mas Ic atraoa,
V I'^scdUo.s parto, ([uando Imela Trcmons;

Retirase cl Alcymi do la rusaca,

Rusoa ol Eclu'ii^is Ion IVnasci).-* broncos,

Y los iniulos |)i.lliiu's tostilicaii

El tiuinpo, (juo, avisatlos, pninoHtican,

Tlic author was a native of Tehuacan, and lived in
r( tirement."^

Midway between these two, between the simplicity
of Saavedra and the Horidity of Leon, may be placed
a fragment of the unfinished Nvcro Mniido by Fran-
eisco de Terrazas, a son of Cortes' mayordomo, which,
to^tjier with some lyrics from the same pen, indicate
a studv of Herrera's classic stvle.^'

A immber of verse-makers figured durijig the inter-
vals marked by the above n^presentative historic poems,
and strove in vain to obtain a place by their side, in

520

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

notoriety at least, for similar productions. Amonir
these may be mentioned tlie Hi^ioria de Mexico en verso
rcistelkmo, 1623, by Arias Villalobos, wliicli seeks am-
bitiously to cover all [)receding events, from traditional
times In Saavedra's simple flow runs the Coiirjai.^la
ile Xalisco, by the Dominican Parra. Early Zapotec
history received con.memoration in crude quatrains at
the hand of a Zapotec cacique named Antonio Lopi z. '

Into shnilar neglect, though published at Alcata,
1610, fell the Hifitoria de la Nmva-Mexko by Gaspai-
Villagrd, one of the participants in the conquest of
that rei^ion. The book is very rare, and has lain for-
gotten by students from the apparent absence of his-
toric material in such metric form, while the public in
general felt no desire to accord favor to simple verse
so utterly cast into the shade by the then rising sclionl
of grandiloquence. In accordance with my system of
sifting every class of wisdom, I examined the work, and
was gladly surprised to find it exceedingly comprelien-
sive,and covering many a gap in New Mexican history
for which no records are extant. The homeliness of
the thirty-four cantos, in blank-verse, with little at-
tempt at confusing ornamentation, and witl. the occa-
sional interpolation of official documents in [)r()se, as-
sists to restore it to the proper status of a chronicle.
which, since the discovery of its merits, has been gain-
ing wider appreciation.

Among descriptive poems must be mentioned flr<ni-
deza de Mexico, by Bishop Balbueiia, whose fame as a
poet shines brightly in his epic, AY Bernardo, and his
pastoral romance, «S'/V//o del Oro, both amcmg the finest
of their class in the S))anish language. While born
on the peninsula, and living chiefly in the West Tii-
<lies, he was educated at Mexico, and there canird
ott'a prize for i)oetry in 1585. The Grande-jt has the
additional inti-rest for my purpose of not only cmi-
cerning this country, whose capital it describes, its siti .
buildings and institutions, but in wielding a eeit.iiii
influence on colonial writers. It is in endacasvlhi'ic

THE GUADAT.UPK MIRACLE.

521

tiorcets, divided into eiglit cliapters, and is full of at-
tractive lines with many striking motapliors.'"

Besides the conquest there were two subjects which
allured the most and)itious poets, the sacred passion
and the Guadalupe miracle. The latter concerns the
apparition in 1531, to a hmuble Indian, of the virgin,
who leaves to him her full length portrait miracu-
lously impressed on his rude mantle. This is dv-
posited at (iuadalupe and becomes the object of
veneration throughout the country. Voluminous
treatises have been written in defence of the mii-acle,
and verses iimumerable in honor thereof, several of
the latter aiming at epic completeness. Sigilenza, the
philosoplier, n)adeanattempt inliis I'rihxircrd Tittlkiiia,
which contains several })oetic flashes, but insufficient
to redeem it from the mass of puerilities, metonymy,
and liy])erbolc. He also wrote a poem in honor of
Saint Francis Xavier, and Poa^ias S(i;jr(ulait. Affecta-
tion are their chief defect, but this was the prevalent
evil of his time, as recognized by the award of a first
iiiize from the universitv for a most unintelligible
song of his. La Ocfara Manivilla, i\[exico 17"J1), bv
Fiancisco de Castro of Madrid, is still further marred
hy rhaj sodic mysticism and strained classic simih s.
In like oiidva riiixi nieasui'e is AV Triiiiifo d<l Slloicio
of Jose[)h Agustin de Castro, of Valladolid, relating
to the martyrdom of San Juan Neponmceno, whi-rein
pliantastie figures re[>]ace the classic clement. A
later attempt to ])ortray the feelings and meditations
of a convert shows loss artificiality, and a(cords woll
witli the chastening of spirit he is supposed to have
undergone.'"*

This class of i»ot'trv, including moral exh<»rtations,
is exceedingly Imlky, as may be undeistood from the
influences of the cliureh and the predilection of its
ii I nibers, who outmunbered all others in th»' litei-ary
fi' Id. The nature' of the pieces an<l the circumscribed
language and tone of the authors, from duty, bent, or

lis,

022

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO,

,Mil

Ml ,.

reverence, operated against any marked excellence.
A not uncommon performance with the friars was to
reduce tlie rulos of their orders into prolific verso, as
did Pardo for the Franciscans.

Among those who have sung tlie passion I will in-
stance three representatives in their respective niethnd
of treatment, iu'st the Jesuit, Carnuro, who givis
a mei'e rhymed descri|)tion, spiritless and witli olh u
absurd coloring. Second the presbyter, Friar, de-
votes one thousand octaves to the subject in Dcsmiso
y Humillacion de Dlot^, Mexico 170*J, beginning with
the causes in the fall of Adam and ending with tho
resurrection. The writer seems in)pressed by tlie
incidents before him and imparts this feeling in the
simple earnestness of his strain, but without rising to
tlie grandeur of the theme.^' The third, Luis An-
tonio de Oviedo Herrera y Tlueda, shows himself in
his Poema Sacra de la raskm far superior. He opens
with dramatic tact at the arrest of Christ in the
garden of Gethsemane, and closes with the catas-
trophic phenomena attending liis death, illuminating
the subjects with frequent pleasing imagery niarnd
by little extravagance. In accordance with the term
romance applied to his Poana he uses the ndoiidllld
measure, with asuuatdcs, while the others write in
ottava, rima. The seven parts of the i)oem are called
cstaciones. The author is a descendant of the Oviedo
who achieved for himself the title of Conde de la
Granja, and st>ttled in Peru. Pofcrring to tlio
approach of the posse intent on arresting Christ, lie
says:

Enti'o cl horror <lc la noclio
Eiiilmelt.i, aliiiltiiiulo sonihras,

Bii 111.13 cuerpo & sus liornm'
Solo c:l silencio se oye.

And alludiniT to the death scene ;

Aqui rasgiindo i-l cielo
Y las soinliras & girones,

A1iri() los ojos f\ dill

Por ver al Sol quo se poiio

Above any of these as a writer of sacred vi r>e
ranks Fernan Gonzalez Eselava, whose Cohquio^^ fsi'in.
fnal('>i,Cancioncs Divhias, and Pocsias were published at

HAPPY INHERITANCE.

628

Mexico in 1610, after his death. They exhibit a rare
(•<»ml)inati(m of pure diction, good versitication, and
natural grace, yet have from tliis very reason l>een
pushed aside by the more boml)astic apptals of less
;il)lo pons. The Tcra^f^kula, sire lh'(%s/a a Jct<i(, by friar
Juan Valencia, a Mexican of a few decades later,
serves maiidy to exhibit his skill in Latin hexameters.
The contemporary Jesuit, M. Castro\erde, excelled in
sucli verse. Bishop IJi-za y UUoa of Huexotcingo
received a premium from the university for his
Si)anish octaves; F. Cochero Carrcno's Dcsaf/rario dc
^'/•/.sYo acliieved a certain celebrity. The nun Teresa
do Cristo belongs to this period.

Among the mass of shorter poems, odes, sonnets,
elegies, satires, and epigrams, we find by far tlie haj)-
|)iost specimens, as may be supposed, from the impul-
sive but unsustained spirit of the i)eople, an<l from tlie
iiiingling of gay etfusiveness and lofty gallantry in-
herited from S[)ain, with the sad yet sly traits of the
aljorigines. Church festivals, public inaugurations,
celebrations connected with the roval familv oriirom-
ineiit citizens, and reuni(jns, gave occasion for display
in this field which frequently assumed the form of
tontosts. Tlie nund)er of i)artici})ants and hiterestcd
auditors afforded ready opportunity for reproducing
the difterent pieces in |»rlnt, prefaced as usual with a
imniber of similar verses by critics, or by the admi-
rers of the contestants. They are generally weighted
\vlth classic lore, strained mcta[)hor and gran(lilo(|uent
nothings, the main effort being evidentl}' to exhibit
ii-Virnin'j: and express eulo<j:v. Thev enibract^ all im-
agniable forms of verses, with acrostics of the most
intricate pattern. In such representative volumes as
' W///o, Ijcfrdi^, on the oecasion of taking the oath to
liuis Fernando I. Carlos TfL, Real Proc: Rndrifimz,
■ I'lljii.'^fo Thnn.; Sarin, Dr.^cript., at a church festiv.al, M-e
iind the participants range from pompons prr-lati'S to
humble friars, from staid professors to youthful jiupils.

S24

LlTEUATUllE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

Special mention must bo accorded to Matias Boca-
negra, whose Cancbni a la vista dc uu desnujano be-
came very popular and was widely adopted as a modt 1
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, al-
though by no means finislied in form.

A contemporary elegy by Zapata on the deatli of
the brothers Avila is noticeable for niany etfeetive
lines. The sword which brings them death he de-
picts as :

Uiiavivora de lumbro
L'lHi VL'iicrio (Ic Contt'llas
La rcgiipii del aire vihro,

Porque S RU!< impetus muera,
Siiplii) el Uaiito ill! los ojos
El defectd de la leiigua.

Juan de (xaona, a Franciscan friar, who wrote sev-
eral works in Aztec, Latin, and Spanish, attracted at-
tention by his l\t('das (\istrllanas en alaJ>aiiza de la
\irg(f)i. Francisco Placido, an Aztec noble, wrote
some Cdnllcoa which Chimalpain ])reserved. E. Sa-
lazar de Alarcon, a native of Madrid, who reside 1
manv vears in Guatemala and Mexico as oidor, aiid
was made a councillor of tlie Indies in 1001, left a
higlily praised Sllva dc Pocst'a; some of his letters arc
said to be masterpieces. Tlie freer development of
lyrics during the following century will render a later
consideration more satisfact*»ry.

JMention nmst be made of (»ne whose varied power
and productions have procured for her a recognition
far above anv other trulv national i)oet of colonial
th)ics. This is Juana Inez dc la Cruz, to whom even
contemporari(!S of the peninsula gave the extravagant
appellation of tenth muse, l^icheco compares her te
Camoens, and Feijoo lauds her critical and pliile-
sophic mind. She was truly a prodigy. As a cliild
her thouglits seemed to find a[)propriate utterance in
verse alone, and she became the wonder of the \ iceie-
gal court. Her sylph-like beauty also drew admi-
rers and fortune smiled bri<xlitlv. Suddenlv a chanec
came over her. Imbued with sensitiveness and ex-
alted imagination, she felt keenly the slight thrown
upon her Creole caste ; she felt the want of symjiatli}-.

JUAN A INICZ I)E LA TRUZ.

S23

the failure to be understood. Cliiitjing more tluan
ever to lier beloved books, she sought at the early
a<4e of seventeen tlie seclusion of the convent, aban-
doning the future opened to her in socii'ty as lady of
li'inor, to devote herself to letters. A deep religious
feeling can hardly have been the chief prompter, as
some (leclare ; there was something more, for pretended
]i;i])piness and quiet suffering are frequently revealed
in her lines. Unde-niable is the bigoted interference
(if religious advisers, wlio finally persuaded her to
abandon even books and writing for ascetic penance.
Freed from worldly distractions at least, she yiehlcd
to the bent of her min<l, and ])oured forth a iirolific
tlow, chiefly of lyrics, wliich roused deserved a<hnira-
tiou from tlieir delicate tone, their varied imagerv, and
tlielr smooth versification. The religious sentiment
predominates, relieved by many a h)fty allegory, but
n»up]ed also with a mystic speculation that smacks of
fi)i(H'd patristic inculcation, and is often of questionable
taste; yet the light emotions are also touched, .and
with charmintj naivete in the love sonnets. The ele-
giac tone is frequent, indicative, perhaps, of a wounded
lit^ait, and certainly of her treatment within the
( luister and by the world.

Si al armyo parlero A I'liantas mira iiitima sii cuidailo,

Vcs j^alau ile las Hures cii el prailo, Kii su con-icT'te mi dnlor to avisa,
(,iiu.- ainaiitc y lisougcro Que a costaile nii Uautu, tieuu risa.

T!iis is, indeed, a smile amid tears.

AI iluloc iinan de sii vnz
(^•uisieraii iior asistirla,
I'iniiamiMito ser el Movil,
Kl S(.(I ser Eatrella tixa.

Tan liella, sol ire caiiora,
Que el amor dudnso adinira
Si se delieii sus liarpulii'.-i
A su.s eeo.s (j U su vista.

No duiiliquos las annas,

Bella lioinieida.
Que esta oeiosa la luuerte

Doude no ay vida.

Slie can also sing in a merry strain. Her eclogues
are pervaded by a bantering vein, ami her ovillcjos and
ntlier jocose pieces vie witli the sonnets and romances
fi'i the foremost place. There is a number of satiri-

{j-JG

LTTERATUUE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

cal compositions, and several decimas of true epiorrain-
niatii' form. She displays, moreover, a profoundly
critical mind. Before entering the convent she astoii-
islied a committee of learned men with the variity
and depth of iier attainments.

Juana also wrote several dramatic pieces, notably
two antos, or religious allegories, and two comedies,
Amor AS m(i.'< iMhi/n'nfo and Los Kntpcuos <Jf, una ('<isii,
preceded and interspersed with tlic customary Inas,
Iclrax, mi/nrtc^, and sardos, or dialogues, farces, and
songs. The last-named i)iece, the only one tliat lias
received much attention, embraces Mexican life, and
has some tender love scenes, with occasional stirring
verses; yet it is cold and wearisome on the whole,
and stamped by the defects of the times.

Imitations of such men as Seneca and Calderon are
only too apparent, but she allowed herself, above all,
to bo influenced by tlie cultismo spirit, with its mox-
cusaljle mannerism and trivialities, and the religious
surrounding proved another restraint on her naturally
graceful flow, while strength and originality flag in
the more prolonged eff'orts. It was her misfortune to
live in the period of dramatic decaden(;e in Spain, and
during the unfolding of corrupt Gongorism, ai! ' to lie
permeated by the levelling influences of both, rience
it is that her works gradually passed into obli\ion,
notwithstandhig their evident mark of genius, tin ir
rich form, and grand symbolism. Mexicans did iii»t
appreciate the Nun of Mexico so much as the penin-
sular readers, with all their penchant for national pri-
sonages. They were too deeply engrossed with
transatlantic niodels to give due consideration to hu al
talent.^"

The drama begins in Mexico with the representation
of antos, religious or allegoric pieces, which owe tlioir
derivation from the mystery or passion plays int
duced from Italy into Spain, there to acquire a
tinctive elaboration and stamp, under the ditter' nt

I'd-

(lis-

THE DRAMA.

5-27

iiKtliods of Vicente, Lope, and Caldoron. Tlioy were
(iiily brouglit forward as an attractive nu-diuni for
|iionu)tiiig conversion among tlie aborigines, and pro-
duced partly in tlie cliurclics, but cliicHy in tlie open
air. Friars adapted or composed tlie pi(!ces, sonie-
tiiius translating them into the vernacular, while the
111 Dphytcs were trained in the roles. The subjo^cts
wi'ic chiefly biblical, the adoration of the magi being
a favorite, the Indians applying to themselves the
divine suimnons herein indicated to pagans. Allegoric
and com[)licated composition found more favor in the
cities, for edification of the white classes. Here also
tlic productions were more a[)t to be enlivened with
comical passages. In course of time, indeed, they
wi'i-e so burdened with this and otlier abuse as to
liasteji the suppression and decline of the irufns, as in
Eu)()[»e. Nevertheless, they still survive in remote
country districts.

Tlie contemporary has, eulogistic declamations by
one or more dramatic persons, largely used as pro-
logues, survived somewhat longer as independe^nt
]*ieces for production at different public festivals, as
the arrival of viceroys and prelates, installations, and
the like.

The first prominent local writer of autos and loas
was Fernan Gonzalez Esclava, the Antlalusian pres-
Intor, whose religious poems rank so high in Mexico.
His Colnqnios eiiritn<tlcs, issued there in IGIO, and
lately rediscovered and re])rinted bv Icazbalceta, con-
sist chiefly of allegories with moral and theological
figures. In diction they partake of the gootl <jualities
ot'liis sacred verse, but their dramatic aspect indicates
so littl(! of the elegance and vivacity of l^ope, or of
tlie lofty thoughts and rich form of Caldi-ron, as to
lower them to a secondary ])osition on the peninsula,
yet one of cons[>icuous merit in X(>w Spain.

Th(> drifting of the auto into farce, was a natural
response to the light-hearted disposition of the Creoles,
if not to the staid bent of the Indians. Comedv

n3'i

528

LITEIIATURK OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

ranked foremost amoiiuf Spanish Anioricans, as may
be judiifcd from the cliaractur of the dramatic lights
<tf llKuia. Their most popular pieces were of tliecaja
y espada class, cloak and sword, signifyiui,^ a tlitinf
on love and jealousy, productions marked by com|ili-
catcd and ingenious plots, piquant [>ortrayals lunl
strikinjj^ situations, with alternating passion, sannsin,
and caricature, impertinent inuendocs and stron.;
double entente. The most conspicuous features arc a
gallantry and intrigue which stretch the line of deli-
cacy far bevond northern ideas.

So little were these vagaries heeded that even a
devout soul like Juana de la Cruz employed her pen
in delineating intrigues; yet the restraints of her
training and surroun<lings are evident in defective
dramatic taste and Hugging sj)irit. These inequalities
apply also to a diction at times rich and even elegant,
but more frequently marred by puerilities and verbose
bombast, which hideed preponderate to such exti iit
as to stamp the productions as hojH'lessly dull. TIm
same may be said of the specimens by other local
jjlavwrights of the period, as Eusebio ^^■la, the mo^-t
prolific dramatist of the seventeenth century, who left
adozen comeilies in manuscript ; Juan Arriola of Guan-
ajuato, who transmitted one production in print; tin
promising Salazar v Torres: and Francisco S(»ria. All
these are pronounced imitators of Spanish model, lut
the last, while burdened chiefly with the extrava-
gances of Calderon, rises nevertheless above the otliei s
in merit and ap[)reciation,"

All these are eclipsed by Ruiz de Alarcon, wli"
was by birth and education a Creole, although In
wrote in Spain, and there achieved for himself a place
amouij her ij;reat dramatists. Some of his i)ieces wero
at first ascribed to his foremost rivals, and Corneille,
among other borrowers, derived, with glowing acknowl-
edgment, his Menieur, from the Verdad ^S(^.'<pev}|(ml et
Alarcon. This, 7hdo es Ventura, and other cometlies,
written chiefly in redondilla measure, brought lilni

el lut

Ugll 111'

ALARCOX V MKNDOZA.

r)i.".)

prninincntly into not'uo about IG-Jl, althouij;li lio ap-
|i(«,ifs to luivo tried liis ptii fully twenty years before.
\\y lOllt nearly thirty pieei'S had aiipcarod, ineludiiii^
llie eelehrated Kjvincn dc Mari'los. 'j'lieir charactor-
jstic fi-aturo is Alarcon'sadlu^sion to the I^atin models,
and from Terence he lias above all imbibed the 8[)irit
wliich was to !L^uid(! him, while the Italian method ha.s
not failed to leave its impress. Nevertheless lie stands
forward as one of th(! most oriijfinal and varied writers,
tlioui^h hss jtrolitio an<l imaijjinative. His dietion is
more formal and his versification purer than Lope de
\ ('Uja's ; indeed, he ranks rather as a classic who strove
to infuso not oidy a more correct style, but a healthier
III "ul tt)no into comedy, which was still entan^^lcd in
a licentiousness from which the church was seekin*;
to rescue it. His effort was to brinij into prominence;
nohlo qualities, and expose the evil of vic(>, rather
tliuii to draw from the sources of chivalric romance, and
otlset it with broad buftbonery. These admirable
features were too strongly drawn for his a,!j;e, and thus
lie filled to attain that popularity while livinii^ which
1 IS sii CO been enthusiastically accorded him in both
lioiu.sphercsbya posterity of more elevated taste. jNIcx-
ifo lias ado[)ted him as father of her dramatic litera-

Hlfi'

Juan Ruiz de Alarcon y Mendoza came of famous
(li'scent, the last name denoting a conni'ction with
Viceroy Mendoza. He was born about 1580, not as
<j;<-'nerally supposed at Tasco, where his father owmd
niiiics, but at Mexico. After graduating at the uni-
vtrsity of this city, he perfected his studit s at Sala-
uiuica during the opening years of the following cen-
tury, and then adopted the legal profession, returning
iu 1G58 to Mexico to exercise it, and obtained the
jKisition of acting corregidor of the capital. A few
years later he went again to Spain as ofHce-hunter,
and after many struggles with adversity, aggravated
I'v a hunchback deformity, he secured a post as rela-
t'T in the India council which he held for some 13

Essays ani> Mis(f.m,any 84

ii I^H

1 mi

m "mi

imf'^lH':

" ' iH^^nHi 'J

ih'\\ lll^H^

MIOh ^l^^^^^^^^Bln

nil ^^^^HH

S30

LITEIIATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

I. :

years, till his death in 1039. In 1599, (lurin*j^ tlu
openinjv studies at Salamanca, ho appears to ha\i'
made the fii'st attempts in a career which was to
i)rinij^ liim surely thouuh slowlv to fame.'"

Tlu! neuflect of Alareon and the ])aucity of dramatic
Avriters in New Spain, and the existence before I7'.»i»
of oidy one theatre in the country worthy tlie ii.iiiif,
leave the impression that the stai^e was little appir
ciated. The indications arc not ([uite relial>lt\ how-
ever, for dramatic performances, sacred and profane,
were frequently j^iven at }ml)lic festivals and jn'ivato
entertainments, in convents and private mansi<»iis,
notably at the palace, where the viceroy souu'lit to
encourao;e native tah'iit bv atteiuHnij presentations.
These were often mere loas, which failed to si^e juint,
while the pieces j:i;enerally oifered to the public came
from Si)ain, as did the more appreciated actors/'
Comedies by Lope do Ve^a and others were e\' n
translated into native touL^ues.

The shjjjht esteem accorded to home productions,
even by those who ranked with the crcole party, was
due greatly to the authors themselves, who dn-w in-
spiration, method, and even subjects from Spain,
thus U[)holding her too exclusively to the colonirs ns
the model which she still in a great measure itiiiains.
Even Alareon found tardy a}t[)reciation at lionie only
after the peninsula liad given her ai)proval, and I-a
Cruz rose far higher there than among her own peopl' .
The all-influential class of oflieials also turned pul'lic
sentiment with tiicir disdainful affectation away tVoiii
the less esteemed Creoles, and the clergy exert( il a
greater control here in directing preference to clio-ru
literature from the mother countrv, and in n'strittiii''
local talent hi scope and treatment. Neverthehss tlio
new direction and imjmlse imjiarted fr(»m Frame,
came to be felt in the colonies toward the end of the
last ccMitury. As in Spain, it i)roduced no imnie<liato
brilliant result in literature, although the first ( tl'crt
was less depressing; l)ut by pointing to the neci-^^ity

:;:,i.*;

NOTES.

6S1

for deeper and more varud studies, csporially of
classics, it laid the foundation for a hi*]jher develop-
1111 nt. This is indicated in the efforts of Abad, CMa-
vijj;ero, Alegre, and other exiled Jesuits, and more
strikiuL^ly by Jose llafael Larranaga, who produced
the first complete translation of Virgil's work into
Spanish heroic verse. It is marked by an exactitude
and ck)S0 adherence to the s})irit and form of the
original that is lacking in the more elegant partial
versions of Friar Luis de Leon and Hernandez do
Velasco, and gives ]\Iexico the greater reason to be
proud of so influential a guide during the dawn of
revival"

' Tlicclironiclors agree that the press came under tlic .auspices of Mcndnza,

llisf. M,j:

S78, thin series, Imt tlicy diliVr alioiit tlic ; car. (

mll/illc/

h.ivilii, Tiiitro E'ti.i., i. 'JI$, giving; it as l.");!'-', fcvr instanct'. 'I'lii; iiainc of
tin: ipiiiitir was pr(ilial)ly I'anli, wliiiii KciMine I'ahln.s- thv phiral <il' I'ml.)
- 'ly traiislalidii. Croiiiliorgcr is also printed ('riiMd>eri;er and Kioiid'erjier,

l>iit ■was

>)ial>Iy

written Kr(iiil)er>ier

niiiiiMln'rjjter in (iernian. lli
("mnilierL'tr, wlm tiaiire-

"•^'

line <if Valilos due'* not

til-

^li/ii-

w:n preceded in the liusiness at Seville hy .iaci
there m ir>II, and may have lieen liis fatiier. Tl
apiiear in the colophon till l.")4('>; it seems eight years latei
ri )if.< ih I Ai'Oilii.ijiiKlii, he styles himself ' primer ini)iresor «n est a. . .cindad de
Mexico,' a term vhioh has al--o heeii interpreteil foremost or leading, for a
riv.'l ]printer existed ahout tliit time in the person of Antonio Kspinosa.
'll/is late apjiearanee of I'aMos, together with the faet that < rondieiger
aluiie ligures during the lirst years as printer, has led to a very general In luf
tliil the latter actually had charge of the press; hut the eolopiion of a liook
j'liiited at Seville in li">4l alludes to him as lately deciased, and Ica/liaheta,
iho has given this sidiject a share of his scholarly attent ion, rightly assumes

that the owner of a tlourishing 1i

self to a remote corner of the eartli with its jietty prospicts

ss at Seville vould liardh
It

that

a Son ot Jiia may liavc gone

he t.referahle tl

1';

yl.^

h\it 1

o a<'cc

it tl

since tins is a mere,' conje

de h
I"

■lure it will

le stalemen

t of tv

wo chroinelers wlio i

.lechi

.I/..r. ri4'J

primer imjiri'sor i|ue a e>ta tierra vino.' Pari/'i fmlillit. /lisf. t'lnni.

'Kl

irnner Jmiiresor

fue ]i

I'ahh

J)tiril,t, Tiiilr

/.'■/■>■., i. i>a; M<<liwi, (7,r..>i. S. J>i'u<\ •'y-i; <

<;;•, p. V.

Taddla not only lived near the time in (piestioii, h\it lie had every facility

fnrk

ig. In ]'\V2 tiie viceroy granted to tlie widow and ehihlieii of

roiiiherger the right to continue the iirinting and iinjiortation of hooks for

'llu' grant ajiinars to have
■'taMi>limeiit.

tell years, pittas, in Cnrtitu i/f linUits, ~4^{\
heeii exclusive, and I'ahlos mu>t thenfore lia\ e hoiight their
' I'strada is called ' liijo legitinio di 1 ^'irrey,' hy I'V

rnaiiilci', uoi sn

died III \'~,',>. Jittvilii PitiliUii; ili<t. t'lmd., Mi:f., M\\. '1 his author gives sev
iiiiins to the life of Estrada, who joined the |)oniinicaiis in I.'

till" how neatly and (piiekly he made the traiisjat
"idy a few copies were printeii for Use among tl

I'l

and
that
le novices, vho soon de-
riie title and statement are given in (•'nnzuliz /hn-i/n. loc. cit.,
altlioiiuh with the dnte MroiiLdy jihicol as l,"i;!'_', and the f.icis are coiiliinied
hy ririi'iiKh'/, ///>y. J.''-I>.i.. I'J-, who writes l."i.'{."i, hy I'ailiUa and other cred-
iulilu (.hruuiclcrs. fcicc alao /'«««, rinyc*', MS., 73,

d the

i '1

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

y< ': ,

: ':' '

*The Dnetrim of 1539 is described by the editors of Cartas de Indiait, 786-
7. Icazbalceta acquired notice of the Manual. Gonzalez D&vila states titat
the firdt catechism in Aztec was written by the Dominican Juan Ramiro/,
later bishop of Guatemala, and printed in 1537. Teatro Edes., i. 7, but tliis of
omirse cannot be accepted with any confidence. Mendieta alludes to an Aztec
Vdcabulary by Jimenez, one of the first Franciscan apostles, as the first uf
thu kind although not printed. He seems to credit Xfotolinia with the fir.<t
printed DiKtrina 'la cual anda impresa.' Ribas and Cianeros, also of tliu
twelve, wrote various pieces. Jlist. Ecles., 550. THhomaa, Hist. Printimj, i. V.)l,
leaves the impression that Pwja, Cediilario, of 15G3, and Molina, Vocahularht,
1571, were probably the first productions of the Mexican press. In my
lil>rary are also earlier specimens. Iho British museum not long ago uata-
liigiied the Doctrimi of Cordoba, 1544, as the first book. Such was the igno-
rance on this point until lately. North of Mexico the first book appeariil
only a century later, in the Whole Booke of Psalmea, issued at Cambridgis
iu 1640, tlie year after the press was introduced.

♦Eguiara, Bi}), Mex., 221, adds: Onlimttiones kijumque collcctiones ir)4!),
but Uarrisse and Icazl)alceta identify it with the preceding Spanish Ortleiiaii
zas; Opeixiriwdiciwilia, Auctore Francisco Bravo (trmimem is aasiifned to l.")4'.l;
lint the name of the printer, Ociiartc, and the dedication to \ iceroy Kiiii-
i{uez, indicate that the date is a misprint, not a forgery, and should be
placed between 1568 and 1580.

"A list of the printing houses which figured at Mexico in the sixteenth
century may stand as Mlows: Cromberger 1535-44, Pablos 1542-1)0 or
151)2, Antonio E<pinosa 1.559-73, Pedro Ocharte 1563-91, Pedro Balli l.-)71-
97, or later, Antonio Ricardos 1577-79, Mclchor Ocharte 1599. The ilatrj
are merely approximate. Icazbalceta gives additional valuable dctaiN.
Harrisse upholds him in asserting that Ricardos, an Italian like Pablos, went
to Lima in 1580, as tlie first printer there. At Puelila the first book appiNircil
iu 1650. Nouv. Anmik^ Des Voy., xciii. 42-9, mentions other more dimhtfiil
places and dates. Zufliga y Ontiveros owned the chief printing otllcu iu
Mexico at the opening of the present century. Entnlln, xxvi. 350; mum
.Uix., vi. 23. Mexicans early showed a fondness for fanciful type and uin-
btiUishment as indicated by specimens on my shelves, letters in gold and rod
being very frei(uent, with floriated capitals.

"Orders came frequently for officials to ferret and burn all obnoxious lit-
uratnre, Ordeiua de (foronn, MS., iii. 14, and Bishop Palafox devoted even his
private funds to buy up and destroy comedies, novels, and other works re-
garded by him as unhealthy. "Accion. . .bien digna," comments ('alio.
Mriu y Not., 40. Even the colonial authorities were mistrasted in rosiu!! t
of censorship by the supreme government. By a law of 1559, no bonk tnat-
lug of the Indies could be published before it had been examined liy flu; Indii
Council, Rarnp. de, Ind., and in the following year came orders to collect and
send to Spain all books published without royal privilege. Pwja, Cnlnliirh,
210. Regulations for publishing are given in Montemayor, Sumario-i, (if, i;te.
In Oaretade Mexico of 1728 and following years there is an adverti.Henimt nf
new books at the end of almost every monthly number, averaging about two
m each.

' Arevalo stamps his Oareta de M(^ro of Jan. 1728 as No. 1. By the cii 1
of 1730 it formed .37 numbers, all of which were bound, indexed, and dedi-
cated to Archbishop Vizarron by Hogal, the printer. The volume furun a
small (piarto of 295 pages. A rude cut of an eagle on a cactus, with a snaiw
in its beak, and surmounted by a star and crown, figures on tiie first pa^'c of
each number. Of all these early papers it is hard to find more than s{att<'ri'd
fragments. At Guatemala a monthly periodical was issued for about tlio
same time. I have found them of greater value comparatively than the peri-
od icaU of later stirring times.

* Valdes began the Onctfn in 1784, in accordance with royal wriiiis'<i'm.
See Belem, Hevop., i. pt iii. 195. In 1805 it was under the editorship of ^'xn-
celada, who became noted for the pertecutiun he suffered, as related ehe-

NOTES.

533

wlifirc. Througliout its career there were freqiient interruptions, from lack
ui |ii'iiitiiig inaturial and news, and from oliicial intcrferenuc.

"Tlie tir.st periodical at Vera t'ruz was the short-lived Correo Mercuntil of
ISOI. In ISOG cauie the Joriml Ecotioiiiico, which was succeeded in 1807 by
Jiiirii) MvrctiutU, and later by Didiii) de Venifiruz, which continued after the
la.lcjioudcnce. Lento de Tej(u(a, Apuntes Hitt., .'144. The Olmermidor Amen-
ciw) is said to have been printed with wooden types at Soltepec in ISIO.
Mniiico Alex., vi. 41. Among Tmu.siictioiis, I have that of tiie Sociedad
Koiiniiniica of (iuatcmala, begun in 17U7.

" Copies of docuiiients from all American departments passed to the India
Ciiuiicil in Spain. Regulations fur the guidance of the royal historian, and
fir the care of the arcliives, are to be found in Zainom, Bib. Leij. UU., i. 381-
'.'; iii. oOl); liecop. de IivL, Ordenmauu 1{khU's del Comejo, folios xxi.-ii. Basa-
K iiijuc shows that m ,576 the Augustinians had four respectable libraries.
Piur. S. Aic, 39. Tlie university opened to tlie public in 1702. The Jesuit
uiUege had, in 1797, 4li00 volumes, and the Letran had grown in modern
tmios to more than 12,000. Alaman, /iw^. Mij., i. 120, mentions four private
liliiaries at Guanajuato with over 1000 volumes, besides the select collections
(if Inlendente Ria&o and Doctor Labarrieta. Zamacois borrows modern sta-
tistics to give size to old libraries, so as to raise the estimate for colonial
times. I/ist. Mi^j., pp. 120G-7.

"A list of 419 is given in Pnjtfkn Frnnriscanos, M.S., i. 7 et .seq. Vetan-
curt also gives lists in Cron., 140, etc.; Menohij., 43050; and Davila Padilla,
Ui4. Fond. Mex., 053 et seq., gives Donnnican authors.

'■See exiiortation in Medimi, Chnm. de S. Dieijo, 04-6.

" For additional specimens of Nahua verse I refer to my Native Roren, ii.
4'.ll 7. Speeches are frequently introduced into the same and following
vciliiiiics. See also, Gr(iiiii)/o,i, Titnlex, 90-4; Kln'/nltmvuii/i'x ^lex. Audi/., viii.
Ill) ]."); Dor. Hist. Mex., serie iii., torn. iv. 280-93; M'iiller, ReUin, iii. 138-
•II. The verses preserved by Pesado in Ltis Aztccas are so distorted by
rliythiiiic transformation from translated versions as to be valueless to the
stiidiMit, Clavigero declares exuberantly that ' il linguaggio della lor Poesia
ir.i puro, anieuo, brillaute, tigurato, e fregiato di frequenti comparazioni falle
enlK; cose piu piacevoli della natura.' Storin, Mem., li. 175.

" For particulars concerning the host of literary lights among Indians, I
rofir to E(jmim, Bih. Mvx., i.; Bemtniii, Bih. JfLsp. Amer., i.-iii. ; Boturini,
('iitiiloi/o, -pnaaim; Alredo, Bih. Am., MS., i.-ii.; Gmnados, Tarden Amer., 145
etc.; Clitviijero, Stotia Mexn., iv. 202, etc., wherein is given a long list of
writors in Indian dialects; Zerecero, Mem, Rev., 436 et seq.; Zamacois, J/i.tt.
Mij., V. 215-20. 482, 719, etc.; x. 1230 etc., app. 91-5; GaUo I/ombre.f Iln.4.,
i. IV. ; Dkc. Univ., i.-x.; Soc. Mex. Oeo<j., Boletin, epoc. ii., torn, iv., 130, etc.;
Ortiz, .Me.r.. Indep., 179-228.

'Uurgoa and Ribas present important chronicles for Oajaca and Sonora,
rosjK'ctivoly, in the old-fashioned ambiguous and verbose style. In more
ailvaiR'cd form is the bidky history of NIexico by Ignacio Carrillo, a prolific
('\|iiiundcr of the slirinc lore of Now Spain. Ihework remains in manu-
script, wliich is the more to be regretted as the information relates largely
t(i iti-ititutional matter of great interest. Nicolas Segnra ranks before tlie
tiiru' of his religious brother Alcgre as a prominent writer on tlieology.

"■'His Work ni three volumes bears the imprint Bononia, 1791 2. I have
liail fnMpient occasion in the earlier volumes of tliis series to refer to the dif-
ferent kinds of biograpliy, which apjiear besides to profusion intheelironioles,
iiiitably Vetancurt s. Among special representative books may be mentioned
TiT'.-i, Vidii Ejemj)lar de Bnrlxira Jo.si'jiliii lie S. Frnnei.seo, (l"'-3); Roilri'itiez,
lii'ln I'rodiijiom del. . .Fray Selxvtti)in dr Ajmrieio; Ximenrzy Friii», El Fenix de
!"■• .Miiierox Riron, 1779; Velivieo, Ehujio IliM. The BiliUnthera Mixicana of
Fi.'iiiara, in Latin, is really a biograpliy of writers but by no means c(|iial to
tlic jirefeding. I. Lazeano wrote in the middle of the century a number of
Jciiiit biographies.
' Torijuemada furnishes a list of early Franciscans wkotigurud as phdologic

;;:;i

!»"'*

'■■' i

iJU

534

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO.

writers. Among the earliest was Friar Juan Bautista Vetancurt, Cron. 140
eti;.,J/enofo;/.,43(i-56, has atlditioual names, Davila Padilla, J/M. Fund. J/r.c,
(3.').'{ et seq., gives Dominican autliora, Cogolhulo, JlLit. Yimithan, 4.'il( 4i),
mentions writers in the Maya tongue, added to hy Ancona, Hint. Yw., iii.
'.'47 and others; Clavigero, St<>rUi Mesa., iv. 264, enumerates aboriginal cnn-
uilmtora; as in Soc. Mvx. Geoy., Bolttin, 2a ep., iv. 148 etc. In ZamacMis
and other authorities may be found further details.

•"In Alzate's footsteps follows the curate, Diego de Alvarez, a prolific wrih r
on arl.s and sciences, as well as theology. Hipolito Villarrocl figures alien. t
tho same time as a political essayist, and Fausto de Elhuyar wrote on tlin
coinage „y8tem. For more detailed accounts of these and otlier writers I leiir
to the foot-notes of the earlier volumes of my H'utory of Mexico, and to liia
woiks of Eguiara and Beristain.

'•Of Beristain 8 numerous works, of which only a few are noticed by bibli-
ographers, I have more than a dozen, including manuscripts. Among the
sources used by him without acknowledgement were the notes on Mexicna
literature by Axcarate y Lezama, whose pen figured also in jurisprudino',
biography and poetry. Another Creole of colonial times who prepared a bilili-
o2rai)hy was Alcedo, of whom I speak elsewhere, but his Bildioteca Awericnnn
of 1 807, remains in manuscript, of which my shelves contain one of the few
copies extant in two volumes. The supposition that it endjracoa little nioro
than the later edition of Pinelo is hardly just, for I am indebted to it f'>r
much important information.

^"Caiirera Quintero was an eloquent presbjrter with a prolific pen. Sor-
mons of all classes are well repre.sented on my shelves, one set alone consisting
of 4'.) volumes, with specimens from three centuries. Among these several v. I-
uiue^f embrace specimens from Haro y Peralta, with Latin foot-notes iiistcid
of the usual marginal references of previous and contemporary sfeniuuis.
Several are printed at Mexico in about 1777.

^'Cimde y Ocjuendo's prize i.^eech was the Etoijlo de Felipfi F"., publishoil
l)y the academy in 1773 ami at Mexico in 1785. He left three volmiies of
orations, a di.'sertatiou on the (iuadalupe image, Mexico 1852, and soino
minor pieces. After figuring as professor and canon in New Spain he duMJ
at I*uet)la in 17711, 06 years of age. Arellano, Eloyia Selecta, l-Dl, coutaim
specimens of oratimis by college graduates.

^'■Hiamboa was a man of groat magnetism, 'tanto el virey y real audictui i
como los dos cabildos. . . recommendando su merito, 'observes Alzatc, iii. .■)7>.
Beristain, Bih. Ui»j\. Amer., art. (iamboa, credits him witti 17 vohniics i<\
writings, chiefly briefs. The Vomentarion a dm Urdeminais de Miiicu was i>s\u .1
at Madrid 1761 and London 18H0, in translation, as a work of great inent
and value. See also (Hero, in Dire. Uiiiv., ix. 317 et seq ; Oidlo, Jfonil ns II
nstres, iii. 15-34. Here may be mentioned Lardi/abal y Uribe, whose o})iii-
inns are higldy esteemed. Airoug treatises for the guidance of aspiring mvi-
tors, I find the DiKew:<to Hii4ttricn Vrltieo sre la OnUoritt E.^ffxiTiola y Aiin'rirnna,
a bulky manuscript Work of the la it century, wherein tiio author seek- to
analyze the elements of the art and the proficiency exiiil)itetl by ditlVic at
nations, notably the Spaniards on both con'.inents. He is full of leariuil n-
ferences, and also of cumbrous quotations, and wanders sadly from lii.s niili-
ject, so that but little is gained by the reader.

'^Saavcdra's Perei/rino, issued at Madrid 1599, and consisting of 20 cai'tns
of 16,000 lines concludes the main conquest; a promised second ]iait iitiUA to
apjiear. Balbuena places him among the excellent poets of the West lii.i ch,
anil Lope de Vega, in a sonnet dedicated to Saavedra (Juzman, calN ln^i
Cortes' Lucan. Vicente Esjiinel speaks of the Pfrei/rino as a 'jmra eeinli'.iili
y verdadera hintoria.' Piwvlo Elj^itimie, ii. 605, and Antonio fi>V'. l/i<j>. .\"'',
1. 125, notice him, and Eguiara, Bih. Mex., 272-.% devotes two coluiiiin tn
his work, wliich was written in 70 ilays, 'quod post niodum odidit.'

"Beristain mentions several shorter poems by Ruiz de Leon, and rii;litl\'
attributes his defects chieriy to the prevalent bad taste. He also wmir /• '
Tilxmla Indiana, coaceruing the Carmelites, Icazbalceta lately diacovcred hu

NOTES.

685

Mirra dulre pnra aliento de rieeadores, Bogota 1700, which contains over 300
t(,'ii-lino stanza.s depicting the virgin's sorrow at the foot of the cross, wliich
iiiaiiifcst <an exuberant variety.

■i^Turrazas tiguretl in 1574 and received tiie honor of praise from Cervantes
ill hook vi. of his Odlnti'a. Curta de hid., ISl, 847. His assiinieil fatiier, the
iiiciyordonio, is ideutilied with the Auonoymous C'ou(iUuror, wlio wrote on

tlie COIKjUOst.

'^"Tlie cacinueship of Lopez adds interest to his collection of traditions,
wliifh remain in manuscript on my shelf. Tarras poem, in 31 cantos of 40
octaves eacii, covering the history of Jalisco between l;V21)-47, alj^o remains
in manuscript, at tlie nm«eum of Mexico and in my Ubrary. L. II. Ugarto
wrote a CiU which received the prai.ie of IJalliueua.

« Tiie (ffditdi'za de Mexico of Balbueua was issued at Mexico in 1004, a
copy of which rare edition is in my collection. Keprints liave appeared
even in modern times.

^"Castro's Triiinfn is dated 1786, and the Orntifudis, 1793. The latter is
in octo-syllabic quatrains, with asonantes. Viwje.de Anierku a Jioma, Mex-
ico, 1745, is l)y a namesake friar, in running verse, a mere rhytlimic narra-
tive, in dreary monotone of what tlie writer saw on a journey to Komc.
A. M. Pastrana wrote several pieces in honor of tlic Guadalupe virgin,
notably the Cunnon Ifi-iloiirn, lt597, which was praised as a blending df
Virgil and Gdngora. Tlie first of the above C'astros, Francisco, was a native
of Madrid,

'^ Among the customary prefatory eulogies Frias' book contains a lini
from liis printer.

2*Juaua de la Cruz had a double claim to Creole blood on the mother's
side, with patriotic sympathies. Little Jiiana lues do Asbaje y linmirez de
Cantillana, as slie was caUed after her parents, was taken to Mexico from
her liKiiio at San Miguel de Nepantla, on tlie shipe of I'opocatepetl; she died
in i<)!>5 at the age of 44, in the convent of San Jeronimo at Mexico, of tin;
Coiioepcion sisters, after having lived there for 27 years. 'Asistio todo el
taliildo en la iglesias,' says Roldcs, Diario, iii. 460, implying that a pest car-
ried lier off, A model for her later life had been a sister of the same con-
vent name, Juana Inez de la Cruz, whose life is given iu Si'jiii'iim y Gnwjoro,
/'iinii/iotjrrid., r29-o2, aud for whom stops were taken toward canonization
a< sliown in Ordrnen de Vorond, vii. 60-1. Of our poetess Father Caileja
j,'ives the earliest sketch in a preface to the Barcelona 1701 eilition of her
|i.Kins, and to this little is added by later Mexican writers, .such as Callo,
If'iii.hrci Ilw-lri'ii, ii. 3r).S-72, Ortiz, M<:r. /m/ipi-iit., '201-3, Zamucois, Pimen-
t( 1 others. Many of her writings appe.irecl iluring lier life, at Mexico, Pue-
lila, and in Spain, some of them unknown to our biographers, yet rcprcseutpd
on my shelves. In 1()!K) a set of collected poems was issued at Madri<l; oth-
ers followed in 169.3, 1700, 1714, at different cities, ami in 17'-'.') came what is
trrnied a fourth complete eilitiim in three sm. 4o volumes, far inferior in
shape to the preceding. An issue seems to have appeared in 1801. The
Adior, comedy, placed in ancient < Irceco and marred also by anachronisms,
is i)artly from the pen of Juan de i Juevara, of Mexico.

^'.Soria's comedies were much apjireciated in the eighteenth century,
notably (ri'iion'vimrnlOnillcrnio. The manuscript of Vela's comedies is nearly
all lost. Some of Arriola's sacred poetry is on my shelves. Hesid(!s coine-
ilitM Salazar left two autos sacrameiitales, a loa for the comedy Thr/in and
/''liiiM. a drama for the university of Mexico, a eollcctifin of lyrics under the
title Ld Ciliira de Aynlo, and some fables. He died at the early age of 33.
(Iitiz de Torres and (}. Hcderra are remembered for their loas, and Kamire/
Vargas for El M<nji)r Triunfn ilr D'ntnn.

^-()f Alarcon's works twenty comedies were issued in collected form at
Madrid in 16'i8 and 1634. although his name had already appeared in print.
This iininbcr by no means includes all the pieces from his pen, many of which
wiTf long ascribed to his greater rivals. Il4>iirints have since been issued at
■Mexico and Madr'd, and a voluminous biography at the latter place, in

836

LITERATURE OF COLONIAL MEXICO,

1871, by Fernandez-fJuerra, under the auapicea of the royal academy, which
deserves the prize accorded to it for uxhauative and careful research, lu
Gallo, Homhres Ihutreg, ii. 284-330, and several Mexican works, ample refer-
ence is made to him. Tickuor and other historians of literature have lianlly
done him justice. Pinelo barely alludes to him, but Antonio i/ifc. //wp. Am.,
iii. 354 is somewhat more generous. Medina speaks of his brother Pedm
who attained some prominence in the church, and was^rector of San Juan de
Letran. C'liron. S. Dkijo, 251 ; Ximevez y Frvii, El Fenix.

^ Diego de Asis Franco is claimed as the first creole actor of note in Mex-
ico, figuring about 1740. Concerning theatres I refer to //w<. Mexim, iii.
773-4, this series. Among the manuscript sets on my shelves, under the
title CoiiiediiM en Mexkano , are several translations into aboriginal tongues
from Lope and other dramatists

** Larraftaga's Virgil was jmblished at Mexico in 1787 in 4 volumes. His
brother joined him in other transLations and original poems. Vicente Torija
also translated Virgil's works into Castilian verse, but failed to achieve pub-
lication. He wrote a letter from Dido to .^Eueas, beginning:

Cual cisne moribundo

Sobre el hilmedo cesped recoatado,

Del Ueaudro profundo

Tiemo se queja del rigor del hado;
Asi yo, con impulso mas divino
Canto la ley de mi fatal destine.

CHAPTER XVII.

LITERATURE OF MEXICO DURING THE PRESENT CENTURY.

In all that affects the weal or woe of communities, minil-power is greater
thau steam-power.

— Whipple.

The impulse given to education and literature at the
close of the last century manifested itself among other
forms in the accumulation of books, and later in the
issue of periodicals. Unfortunately the revolution
and subsequent disorders checked the one, and gave
an irregular and less desirable direction to the other.
Aside from the ravages of war, and attendant inse-
curity, which caused the destruction of archives, and
the exportation and sale in Europe of such inestima-
ble libraries as those of Andrade and Ramirez, a blow
oven more severe was struck in the extinction of re-
liy;i()us orders, which involved the disappearance of
Itooks and manuscripts never to be replaced. Monks
wiie here as elsewhere the stern censors of literature
as well as its watchful guardians, a bane to contem-
porary flocks, a blessing to future generations. In a
few states zealous persons interfered to save a rem-
nant of works as a nucleus for public collectic»ns, but
tlio supreme government took no cfl^ective steps to
t'lnn a national library before 1857. Meanwhile a
number of private collections had been made and
cared for, that of Icazbalceta, for instance, including
nianj'^ early and rare Mexican volumes, while others
exhibit a wide range of subjects, equal to the enlight-
» IK d aspirations of the country, or rather of the cul-
tured classes, for the masses remain sunken in igno-

(637)

«38 LITERATURE OF MEXK'O-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

ranee, caring little or notliiiig for books or even news-
pa })crs.'

Men of letters combined moreover to orjianize lit-
erary societies for the accumulation of books, the fos-
tering of taste, and the publication of meritorious
efforts. The first of the kind, the Instituto, Mas
opened in 1826, on April 2d, with such members as
Lucas Alaman, Carpio, and Koo ; but like the Colegio
de Jesus of Doctor Mora, opened under the auspicis
of Gomez Farias, it failed to survive. Ten years
later was started the Academia de San Juan de
Letran, which also sank, yet rose again in 1850 as
the Liceo Hidalgo, recently reestablished by Alta-
mirano, together with the more imposing Acadeiuia
Nacional de ciencias y literatura, founded by ^laxi-
milian and given impulse under Juarez. A special
linguistic association rose in accord with that of
Madrid. The most vigorous of this class has been
the Instituto Nacional do Gcografi'a, which since its
creation in 1833, chiefly by Minister Angulo, lias
done great service to the c untry in collecting liis-
toric, tlescriptive, and statistical data from all paits.
Others of a more social character, or with less aiiilii-
tious aims and operations, a[ti)eared at diH'erent static
centres to the number of four score, of which thi( e-
eiiihths are scientific, tlie rest artistic and liteiaiv,
with the latter mcreasing." Their influence on the
cultivation of letters has been of value, and pionilMS
to become greater, to tiie achievement of inaiiv ini-
portant tasks, among them probal)ly a dictioiKHN ,
which the ever-growing number of idioms and ikw
words seem to call for.

The societies assisted to spread the taste for Fn ucli
writings and methods which has so widely entered
into rivalry with the models. In the liberal recep-
tion of foreign ideas Mexico surpasses the niotlicr
country, which lies so much nearer the centics of
culture, and she dnnks readily at the classic founts.
The fact is she remains nearly as much as ever a

LIBERATION OF MIND.

copyist, only her range is wider. There are so few
independent efforts, and those not sufficiently vigorous
or striking to impart a new direction. One cause lies
in the withdrawal of so many of the best men into
political life, with its alluring prospects of position
and wealth, to the neglect of the literary field, which
is accordingly left too open to foreign influence to
prove encouraging to the local writer. Nor can it be
expected that literature should assume great strength
amid the disorder so long prevailing.

Nevertheless the liberation from colonial thraldom
is apparent; liberation from the narrow-minded }M)licy
of isolation, from the lack of facilities for printing
and of patronage, and from the rigid censorship of
state and church, which excluded anything that might
in tlie least shake child-like independence, loyal de-
votion, and orthodox sentiment; from anything which
might render the suspected Creoles equal to Iborinn
prototypes, and therefore insutfcrably conceited, puflrd
W dangerous aspirations. Howards were reserved
for Iberian imitators, while attempts at originality or
foreign admixtures were frowned down. Home pro-
ductions were despised, and soaring geniuses like Juana
de la Cruz were actually induced by bigoted cliurch-
mou to abandon verse-making as pernicious to the soul.

The stirrinj; incidents of the revolution and of in-
dependent rule gave certain encouragement and direc-
tion to the liberated mind, although less than might
have been expected. The subsequent fratricidal wars
could hardly prove a fountain of inspiration. The main
stinmlus came in intercourse with hitjierto excluded
nations, notably France, whose law and precepts fur-
nislied also the incentive for a more liberal yet critical
recourse to the ever-cherislied models of the penin-
sula. The bond of language and race was too strong
to be broken by mere ]K)litical ditterences. The atteii-
unted ligament received indeed a negative recujiera-
tion, in the ilirection of literature at least, bv the lack
of sympathy on the part of the Teutonic peoples.

640 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

To Central America likewise was opened the enliv-
ening foreign intercourse, but it did not possess tlit>
massed population or the large centres of Mexico, and
least of all a fostering capital, with inhabitants num-
bered by the hundreds of thousands, the seat for the
wealth and culture of a vast country, where libraries,
archives, museums, and learned societies provided
sources and incentives innumerable ; where an imuos-
ing series of newspapers and magazines offered chan-
nels for productions, for training hnd remuneration,
and where influential patrons figured as Ma3cenas for
a host of aspirants.

The foreign influence is observable not alone in the
improved thought and form, but in a change from
the religious element which predominated in colonial
times to more profane or eclectic topics. The descrip-
tive and objective have yielded greatly to reflective or
subjective. The artificial and borrowed similes from
classic mythology have been widely supplanted liy
aboriginal sources and nature. Variety, rich sim-
plicity, and comparative ease and freedom have re-
placed the old conventional monotone.

The most conspicuous evidence of the revival is
presented in the press, and notably, for our purpose,
in literary periodicals. They have been imposing in
the aggregate, and although as a rule short-livctl, ini-
sustained in contents as well as existence, like tlie
efforts of the Creoles in general, yet the fugitive con-
tributions, and still more numerous clippings from
abroad, could not fail to prove attractive. In tlie
decade after the independence, several literary ])a)i( is
appeared, only to perish at tlie outset. Heredia issm d
at Tlalprm in 1821 the Miscekinea Pcriodico crdico ii
Lifemrio, in duodecimo form, with a very attiaetive
metlley. The Eufcrpe sought a field at Vera Cruz in
182(J, and the Miscelanea de Liferatiira was started at
Mexico on Oct. 4, 1828. El 0})servador am] Li Min-
erva heralded the regeneration of poetry. In thi- fol-
lowing decade, two of somewhat heavier stamit W( ro

EPHEMEUAL PUBLICATIONS.

541

essayed in the Regidro and Rcvista. In 1840 and
sul)soquent years several qiiito successful efforts
were made, and after that a series of more or less
i|)hemeral pulilications come fortli in swifter succes-
sion. Tlie illustrated Mosaico reached the seventh and
last volume in 184'J; the Mhaco, likewise provided
with cuts, had more than one interruption hetweeii
l.S43-r). The Liceo of 1844 and Album of 1841) at-
tained to only two volumes each, but the IJiiHtmcum
went further. Among the host of less notahlc speci-
mens stands prominent the l^rcaenie Amistoso, with its
fine selections and attractive appearunce. Sheets de-
voted to humor, satire, and arts figure in the list,
and also industrial journals. Several of the out-
Ivinix states swell the number, even Yucatan exhi-
biting before 1850 the literary periodicals Masco
and Il('i/is(ro, and later the industrial pa[)er of Bar-
l)achano.

Their lack of support is due greatly to the en-
croachment of the newspapers, which so generally
supply the public with feuilletons, poetry, and other
IiL;ht reading matter. This class of pul)lications re-
ceived a perceptible impulse from the acquisition of
iudopendence, when every state and many a party be-
came eager to sustain an organ. In 1820 flourished
fifteen, six being at Mexico and four in Yucatan.
1)1 fore the middle of the century there wore as many
as fifty within the republic, of whicli the ca[)ital
l)i)astcd about a dozen. Since then a marked increase
has taken place, amid fluctuations greatly due to gov-
ennncnt restrictions which presidents, governors, and
their parties found it necessary to impose in order to
maintain their often illegally acquired power. Itur-
i>i<lo suppressed two leading journals in 1822. While
S'liae were thus disposed of, others were forced by
If.; Illations from the field, or into submission, or sub-
sidized to support the government.

The restrictions were in some respects as bad as
during colonial times, but they were fortunately not

542 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

poruiauont. The frequent change in administrations
gave relief and recuperation, ami the latterly prevail-
ing liberal form of government imposes limitation only
in certain directions.

There are now ahout two hundred journals in the
repuhlic, of wJiich thn'e dozt-n are claimed by litera-
ture, science, and art, two dozen by religion, and the
rest by ])olitics and attendant variety of subjects, fully
half belonging to the capital*

The uncertain liberty of the press, the large pro-
portion of subsidized papers, and their limited circula-
tion, all tended to lower the inHuence of the pul>Iic
journals. Nevertheless they did good service to lit-
erature in training and bringing before the public the
writers of the country. Indeed, the foremost public
men in politics and letters have been and are ooii-
ncx-ted with the press as editors or contributors,
either for the literary colunuis, or for editorials, wliicli
are remarkable for their forcible, although too oft in
abusive s[)ii"it, and compare well enough for thoU'ilit
and style with average productions of the world. Tlic
collectint; of local news receives little attention as
compared with gossip and l>arty warfare, and the \a-
ried selection of items on history, industries, arts, ami
sciences, so freely supplied by Anglo-Saxon journals,
and serving so high a purpose in the education (»t' the
masses, 3'ield here to frivolous feuillctons ; and tluse
are as a rule copied from French and other foreign
sources, original notes being rare.

The characteristics of the editorials are more
pointedly exhibited in the new outcropping of rcpuiiii-
can times, the political pamphlet, the voice of the
budding orator which seeks this means to reach the
nmltitude, or, of the popular one, to extend or hnprcss
his utterance, and to further relieve his pent up fid-
inofs. With the constant strife between innumerable
factions and the impetuous temperament of the ])aiti-
zans, it is but natural that they should seek the surer
method of special appeal, since the circumscrilKil

;r,i

NEWSPAPERS AND JOURNALS.

SIS

limits of the pross aftordod so little scope. Bold as-
s(rti(»ii here replaces fact, a!id eiuphnsis diverts atten-
tion from the iidierciit wcaknc^H in cluirjjjcs or defence,
w liilc a fiery tt)ne and occasioii.il bomlMist strive to
stir the feolinj^s. Many appear in the form of cate-
cliisms, alleijfories, political testanientn, and the like.

Suiu'rficiality and vapor have unfortunately hei-n
allowed to stanip nearly every branch of literature, at-
tention l)ein<» directed rather tt)\vard brief and petty
tli;in grand and elaborate efforts. So also in critical
essays the writers are prone to pick out trifles, and
exhaust themselves on details, instead of «,'rasjtin«;
H'cni'ral features. There is a nianifV'st lack of discrimi-
nation, of judgment, with a leaning for the Quixotic
traits of Zoilus, rather than the staid observations of
an Aristarchus.

I need here instance only Pimental, one volume of
wliose Ifisfnria ('rifirn de hi IJiivaiitra vowwa to hand
after the writing of this treatise, yet in time for the
interpolation of a few remarks upon it. He dis])lays
varifd reading and a retentive niemory of foreign lit-
erature no less than of the critical works of Schlegel,
Sisninndi, Ticknor, and others, and ajiplies their
analysis of European literature with great eifect, so
far, t(^ Mexican poi'trv by classes and in general. But
tlure are many drawbacks, as in the a]»}>!ication of rigid,
tasteless rules to the njeasurement and vei'sification,
and in the encund)ering of the text with prolonged
<IIsseetions of isolated words, wherein a mass of verv
]tr(t]MT expressions are ruled out as ])rosiac; words like
naked are condenmed as indecent, and so forth. These
inepialities and extremes, which are national ratl;"r
tlian individual, do not, however, overshadow the
many excellencies of a work which promises to be the
first history of literature for ^Fexico, by one of her
ablest literary men. Among earlier critics La Cor-
tina has achieved consideration, although too great
attention to trivialities lowers the value of his efforts.
Kstrada y Lecler and Ignacio Ramirez reach a higher

' : ^

i ■

I !

544 TJTEUATURE OF MKXICO -NINETEENTH CENTtJRY.

[)lano in tivatmcnt, but giv^e loss cvidfuco of original-
ity and insight.

Literature is stamped tlimugliout by tlio volaiil •
disposition of tiic race, cctvored to some extent l)y ;i
Castilian dignity of exterior, yet peering forth in tin'
extreme politeness of manner, and in the superfici.il-
ity of cdueation and ap[)lieation. A pi-oinincnt trait,
in eonneetion herewith is the disposition for frivolous
banter and playful moekery, whicji find utterance in
Jiumorous and satirie sheets, and wide response from
the soeial eireh', with its misehievous yet innormt
gaiety, and from the more severe sarcasms of tlic
pam[»hlet(H'r. The latter resorts to broad similes <ir
direct allusions rather than to subtler delineation^ ;
hence the presence of many features, objectionaMe tn
the diHerently trained ideas of northern peo])le, hut
which on the other hand are ftir li'ss pnnalent than
supposed in the amatory poetry.

Satire ])ertains to the Indian (>lement as nmrli ns
t.) the Spanish, although the latter bears an inqti-ess
of its relined Httratiun prototype. It comes then-
\'nvc more naturallv to the Mexican than humor ■ r
wit. For the last ho possesses vivacious readings.
but not originality ; for humor lie relies rhietly upon
a rollickin<jc mimicrv in accord with the talent for inii-
tation, but which differs alike from the sneering con-
ctMt of the liriton and the contrasting self-ridicule of
th(5 American, while striving to a]>proac]i tln^ niiddli'
courso of the French. An innate vanity and tlie
easy structure of the language forbid the adoption of
the successful American method, while jieculiar rare
and class condition and a democratic spirit oppose the
other. During the colonial reginio the indulgenc*"'
was held within bounds, but the revolution gave it
free reins, and it turned particularly against the fin :i
expanding taste for French models, against a declin-
ing ch>rgy, and against political parties, with tlieir
scrambling aspirants.

1. 1

■ if •»

RATir.K AND HUMOR.

545

Foremost in this fit;ld wore Fernantlcz cle Lizardi
iiiKt Juan J:Jautista Morales, the hitter well known
tiiit»u.;li his Uallo rUafjorico, suggested by Lucian,
and al)0!i:Kiinu in vivacious eonnuents on societv and
|i 'Htiea, wkercin lie has figured as governor. Far
iiion^ prtuinc, thougli less spirited, was Lizardi, one of
the llrst to avail himself of the liberty of the press,
>j;nuited in 1812, by publishing the sharp political
ji'urnal El Pcnsador, a name ever after applied to him.
!'( rscoution only gave zest, and his pen Howed <'reely
a mid the dissolution of social and political institu-
tions, doing good service to the cause of a regencrat-
Im'^; iiide})endoncc. His attacks in diflercnt slieets or
paiiiplilets <'oncentrated gradually against the obnox-
ious elements in clmrcli and soci> tv transmitted from
colonial times. His cliicf work in the satiric novel
/,/ l\riquiUo Sarmk'uio^o^ the Gil Bias type, although
jipproaching more closely to the jyicaroivo form of
l.irjirillo (Ic Tornu^, with features borrowed from
]\Iontesquieu. Its «>bservations on society are attrib-
uted to a traveller, whose com))arisons are maiidy
(hawn from Cliincse manners and institutions. The
political ff( ling (,f the time, and the state of transi-
tion, ti'uded toward the success of the book ; altliongh
it never was well rect'ivcd bv tlie hi<'lier classes, and
not unjustly so m view of its vulgar tone and unsavory
incidents. Nor can it exact i»nj,,'li admiration for in-
ventive power or s[tirit. There is an excess of cold
moralizing, and too litt-c humor. XcvtM-theless the
\vork stands foremost in its field for ^lexico. His
l^'iii Cafrin and Quijatila are botli of the picaresco
"I'lcr, that is, good-naturedly malicious, the former
less jiretent'.ous but far better than the other. The
iuitlior was the son of a doctor, born in Mexico in
1771, and well educated; persecution and comparative
iiegl(>ct long attended him.*

Lizardi wrote some fables which arc still quoted.
Ill <liis line he had a rival in J. N. Troncoso. tiie jnib-
lislier of the first journal at Puebla. Both were sur-

ESSAYS AND MifrRM.ASY ."'l

4i I 111
i

546 LITKIIATUHK OF MKXICO-NIXETEENTH CKNTUIlY.

passed in duo time by Josd Rosas y Moreno, whosi;
simple vet elcijtant iiroduetions merit for Iiiin recocrni,
tioii as the La Fontaine of !^^exico no less than as the
chihlren's poet. Ochoa, the lyric and dramatic ^riti i\
contributed some satiric letrillas which may be classed
amonix the best in the lan<xua'j;e. A7 Jarahe of Zaiua-
cois presents a series of jocose and picjuant sketches of
Mexican society, \vi<lely apprecintcd. Anions^ satins
of a political stamp are t^evcral of CMrlosBustamaiitc's
shorter pieces, and such specimens as Arellano's. lc^;.s',
although neither exliibit tlie humorous vein that runs
through Gimencz* Eimn/O!^ M(i'p)rfico.<i, 1849. Sauta-
ciha's Grvio dd Maf, ISTil, is directed against tlir
clergy and aristocracy, but with a less pronounci d
burlesque spirit.

The effects of independence on oratory became evi-
dent in more than one direction. Secure in tlic abso-
lute sway to wliich government policy lent every aid.
tlie pulpit in colonial times confined itself leisurdy
either to the conventional homiletics or to descriptive
apjteals. The revolutioJi roused it from this contented
indolence and opened a wider field. This movement,
started and led by cl(>rgymen, in itsc^lf induced the
cloth very generally to dwell on political questions,
while the s})read of liberal or even heretical views
stirred them to action for the defense of tl:c churrli
and profi'ssional existence, and for retaining thrir
hold on the public. Infidelity had to be met with ar-
gunu'nts, and stolidity with ehxjucnce. Uoubt Mas
encountered with arms drawn from the verv countn
of Vttltaire, although in imitation of a ]^ossuet and
JVIassilon. Hidalgo himself found it necessary at tlu'
opening of his campaigns to rise in dt'fense of tlie
church; and this in an address which confirms the or-
atorical power of the great leader. Tliat stirring }'e-
riod gave rise to several orators, which an epigiain
thus characterizes: Sancha diverts, Sartoiio eoii\'tts.
Uribe assumes, and Dimas confounds. Sartorio, if ii"t

ORATORICAL DEVELOPMENT.

547

<.r

the

tlir

cr-

iii;i

1"-

'''-

f.iiii

ii\ ■

rl->.

, it'

lint

a perfect speaker, deserved to liave applied to him the
Words, "vir bonus, [teritus dieendi" of the ancients.
The revivalist tours, esjieeially of the religious orders,
assisted to maintain a fiery delivery; but the lofty and
profound elo(juenee exhibited in France is of rare oe-
ciiireiiee in the Spanish race, and rarer still in the
Indian.

The change injudicial methods, in accordance with
^uggt'stions {)resented by foreign tribunals, has not
fulcd to disclose a wider range for the legal profes-
sion, with additional incentive for rhetorical display.
Hut tln! great f'.iture in oratory has been itsdeveloi)-
1111 nt in connection with politics, which is indeed a new
phase, sinc(^ no asscnnbly existed in colonial times
\v!i(Tein to foster debate, and no election field for the
unfolding of harangue. Fluency of tongue was innate,
as well as vivacitv and grace ; tlu'V needid l)ut freedom
of sp ■''eh and motive. Both were granted by the
icvol ;p ' !, whose gr(\'it cause gave the primary in-
spiration, while stirring tliemes were presented in its
iii'idents, its heroes and martyrs. If the discoui'se
lacks depth, conviction supplies a gap; if unity and
se(|uence fail, a sympathetic cord is touclied; whiK'
soai'ing an<l intlattMl language, intoned by loose impul-
sive em[)liasis and freely assisted by gesture, shed
over all a gloss and infuse a spirit which camiot fail
to influence audiences e(]ua,lly emotional. The Mexi-
can possessesanaturil<'lofpu>nce. which, like his volatile
<li'^positit»n. brook:-! little the interfei'enc<' of stU(Med
older and intonation. T]\o latter does not accord well
with our ideas, for it follows a (piantitative rathei*
than ac('(Mituat(>d rhythm.

.\niong parlianieiitai'v sp(>akers I'lzefpiiel Mo!ites,
"f (^)ueretaro, reeeix-ed th(> sp(>cial eiiconiiunis of (^^s-
tt'lar. liuis de la Hosa. a minister of state like the
other, wielded great iiithience with his ehxpK^ne •.
<!uti(»rrez Otero also ranked liigh,and (loveriiorCM' 'v-
eio now statMJsamong the foi'emost. although some prefer
ilie iuoru fiery alcahle, or point to inspired Zamacona.

41' ,t*,
11 11

i' n?

■_jiM

i..

■t ;

548 LlTEPvATUUK OF MK-XICO-NIMITKENTH CEXTUIlV.

The fiiniiality of tlio Spanish o[>istolar writing, ag-
crravated by the frequt^nt use of titles antl polite terms,
was intensified in America with caste distinction and
strife for position, and gra«lually a stitl" hgal phrasr-
ohtgy crept in which acconhd well enough with iii-
lierited Spanish <lignity. Indeed, the few adniind
sjH'cimens date back to the time pri<»r to Juana de la
Cruz, whose Caria a FUofta is stumped by tlic pedan-
tic turgidity of the ])eriod. The acknowletlged master-
pieces are from the pen of Oidor Salazar de Alarcoii.
figuring at the advent of the seventeentli centurv.
Nevertheless, several women of the present age assi.Nt
in upholding here the superiority acconh^d to tlirir
sex in tills branch. The characteristic fondness of
Iberians for proverbs has by no means b(>eM lost in
transplanting, and the additions made are many of
them peculiar to the new envintnment.

The same spirit tliat prompted tlie issue of political
pamplilt'ts impelled to a great extent the more aiiili-
tious etibrts at history writi'ig. The beginning i»f
revolutionarv ni(»\i'ments broutjht out several v>ers()ii3
eager to rush into [»rint for tlu; defence of priiU iplcs,
or personal conduct, such as Cancclada, known clr'etly
as a journidist, Aicocer, and A'llia Hrrutia; but Im k
of time, means, and ))atronage biuited the projects to
insignificant |>rnductioiis. A higher aim animahd
Doctor Mier y (iuerra, a Dominicai fr<»m Monterey,
whose unjust persecution fur certain liberal c xpressions
in a sermon le<l him to ab.'tndoii )iis profession, and he-
come a wanderer ajid pamphleteer. His ability in-
duced Vicerov Iturrioavav to enoagt.' jiim as a w rit.r
in his defence, but he drifted into jdonounced reviiiU-
tionary sentiments; the patron withdrew, and the

doct

or was cast into a, <

lebt

)!• s )»rison.

lis cut si.olt

tlu' continuation of the work, limiting the nai'ra'ion
from ISOS till the be*rinnin<'' of 1 8 I H, a period of 'in-
surpassed interest and imi>ortance for Mexican history.
Research and erudition aw. evident, but marred '} a

CARLOS MAUI A RUSTAMANTE.

549

lark of ralin disoriininaticm, and by strong bias. Tlie
treatment is, moreover, raml*ling, with inconsiderate
digressions, and the text is burdened with quotations
and triviahties, defects whicli the frequent instances
(if vigorous and j)k'asing style are not sufficient to
redeem.

]>>ctor Atora, of (Juanajuato, clergyman, and lat-r
fdreign minister, took a wider view of the sain<> sub-
jtct in tracing its causes from tlie very conquest, and
its effect in the social and political condition of the
1. public. While seeking to correct tlie false or parti-
san views of others, he falls into equally narrow ruts,
and does not display sutTieient <^le})th in his speculation.^,
lint he surpasses in clearness, and conq>rehensive and
svm metric treatment.

Tiiese (jualities have iKtt been displayed by tlie
(lironicler Anastasio Zerecero, who while borrowini;
HIk rally from ])rei'eding works, resti'iets himself in the
main to an apol(,<retie re\iew of ITKlal^o. ]>oi'eii/.o(ie
Za\ala., on tlie other hand, uses the ineidrnts of colo-
nial times rather as sti pping-stones t(» a deseiijitiou of
the dis(»rdei's (hulng the first tlecade of rej»nblic.in
rule. lie side-- with the lowi'i' factiotis in a most de-
rided manner, intrudes his own [>erson and gubenia-
t'li'ial arts on everv luissible occasi(»n, and hii iks the
historic ehain with fVe<|U(^nt controversies and devia-
lioiis, which are not infre(|Uently redeemed, however,
I'V vivid portrayals.

The most comprehcMisive historian for- the fir>t half
> f this century is CVii'los INlari'a Jhislaniaute, a man
who figured promiiuMitiy throughout this }terlod, and
early attached himself to the cause of independence,
henceforth to become the most zealous chami>ion of
vi pubHcanism. With a passion for writing, he drifted
iV mi law into journalism, and thencc> into iiistory. and
i> said to have left as many ns eighty volumes of
• liaries alone. The ('iKidra ///Wr;r/Vv), in six Aolunies,
('■nns the bt ginning and tht^ most important of the
Iti.storical seri.'iJd, whit ii contains more than a dozen

jiii

itlLlB

r>50 LITERATUUK OF MKXICO— MXKTKKNTII CEXTURV.

extent more
)recc

I'jf

sots, altliougli several are to a great
elahoratioiis of periods already covered in {)reccdii
parts. Ho also wrote a nunilxT of l)ioo;raphies, reli-
L;ious disseitations, and other treatises, and edited
scjveral valuable works on aborij^inal rites and histor\ ,
and on colonial rule, addin;^ notes and supplements.
The edited series inav l>e reLCardiul as an introduetimi
to his own, so that the two combined embrace all
Mexican historv to 1S48.

While showiiii' dili<'"ent research lie is cartiless and
hasty, and e-ver rea<ly to acce[)t even absurd stati'-
m(!nts so long as they do not interfere with his pi r-

nal bias. In earlie-r works he is, for instance, (j

Ultr

rabid against the S[)aniards; later this feeling i-^
turned against the Anglo-Americans; and throngli-
out ix-rvades a bigotrv whicli is singularU' (.'xtreiiu
on I't'ligious topics. To this he subordinates cNciy-
tliiiig else when they meet, and only too frtuiuently
he seeks a divine ur miraculous agency to explain in-
eidents. After inde})endenee he constituted himself
a censor of nearly e\'ery administration. His stroiit;
prejudices and fiery and erratic ini[)ulses are percepti-
hle in style, marked by mnnethodical arrangement,
unwarr i'ited digressions, and conse<pi(>nt lack of co-
hcreney. While not wanting in graphic, and e\(ii

the diction is on the whole intli

llrd

lofty jiassagei
and sloveidy, with a stnniji <tf fidul emphasis, bi
siiort, tile absence of study in subject, treatment, ami
laiiguagt^ (end gi< atly to lower ]iustamantc!'s claim as
a liistoiiaii ; hut his mat< rial, based partly on pt r-

d ob

doeU

ments now mac

nial ohservat -ns, partly <>ii (
sible, will i'en\ain an imperishable monument <<• Iiis
indefatigable and ]>atriotic /eal. An instancr^ of tlic
use to be made of his labors is given by ^feiidivil.wlio
in 18"2S found it well to i-cduee the ^'"(/f/rn ///.s/o'/vV" to
the inort! reasonable t'orm of a RixiniKii in one n-oIiumc.
A most striking conti'ast to this volmninons writer
is |tres<'nted in tlit; works of the abh; mini.stei' Lt'icas
Alamaii, who, with almost t'<pud aidor, comhiiK.'d

ms'iOilY AND POLITICS.

561

(loopcr research, irroproarliablc caio, and admirable
<liscriniiiiation. He not only declaimed against the
Ititter tirade of Si)aiiisli historians, and the l)lind zeal
f»f IVIexicans, displayed in accounts of tJie revolution,
but he saw the need for a more impartial and thort)U;4h
version. At first a fear of public feeling withheld
liiiii ; but finally he ac(|uired courage, and issued the
Uision'ii (Ic Mijica, which is undoubtedly the most val-
uable publication of its kind. lie proposed to cover
also the republican period, but the apathy with which
t!u! first volumes were received nuist have discoura'^ed
him; he certainly hurried his work to an abrupt cl< )se.
( 'iiuseientious research is evident throughout, but
despite the striving for impartiality, marked preju-
liices crop out. The instincts of the aristocratic
Creole cling to him, and he cannot conceal his coutemjtt
fi>r the Indian and mixed races by and for wliom the
rrvolution was mainly achieved. To him they are
an inhuman rabble, and in their leaders he recoofnizes
iiotlniig meritorious. Toward tlie royalist he is even
tender, while Iturbide is j)erslstently upheld as a hero
al)o\e all comparison. The treatment of his subject
is able, and the style, wliile fit ([uently constrained
and \-Ai\i^\\ with Americanisms, is clear and attractive,
and even elegant. The Americans are j)uri>osely intro-
duced, with an assertion that it is but right and aji-
I'l'Mpiiati' to do so in a Mi'xieaii work. The length
"f tliis histoi'v, the Itui'bidist bias, anil other de-
ftitfi induced Liceaga to issue a condensed and cor-
rected version of it in 1808. Alaman's research and
careful study art^ still more dis[)layt d in the hiMoia-
(■'<iii<>!, a s(!ries <if revised lectun-s on «>pisodes in colo-
nial times, n(»tably on the canrr of Cortes.

With the establishnu'nt of republican rt'ginu^, Santa
Anna comes into prominence as the leatling figure,
t'limd whom all others may be said to group; and
tliis position he holds, with occasional int«'rvals until
.biarez rises like him on tlio ruins of an e[)lieinei'al
< iiipire, but to a nobler elevation. Santa Anna's

■*1

■: iiitiF;

lis

5->'2 LITEUATUUK OK MKXICO-NINETKKNTIL CKNTURY.

: !

s •

caroor is stamped ratlur with iutrlj^uo and ju^jLjlcrv
than patriotism and statesmanship, sustained chietly
l»y tlie party spirit created by him and ciiLfancd in
l)itter ronti'ntion, wliile lie watrlied to turn the issuf
to Ilia own advantage. The liistory for all his jK'Hod
hears the impress of this division and strife, certain
writers like Suarez y Navarro assumhij^ the defence
of tlie dictator, while otliers, like Portilla, Payno,
Tornal, and Filisola, uphold the conduct of his op]>o-
nents or suhordinates.

The Iim'shis of Minist(>r I;j;lesias on the Fren<'h in-
tervention is a disjointed muss of material hastily
prepared in the interest of the Juarez [lartv, and full of
y'aps, repetitions, and misstatements. Vi;;;il and 11 li-
jar's account for the same and suhsequent periods ef
operations on the west coast is more complete, hut it
descends rather into a biography of Cileneral Coroii.i,
and is confusing and dull in detail and style. Km-
abler than these, and more in the stvle of Alanian,
although with less research and effort at impartiality,
is the }f('jico of Arrangoiz, whose main object is tn
defend the uphold(TS of Maximilian's empire.

Ignacio Alvarez attempted a compnhensive genoial
history of the country; but while exhibiting l>utli
system and symmetry he is superficial and biased,
and can^less in stjdc as well as statements. Zania-
cois covers the same field in a voluminous serii s.
which dwindles however into a mere feuilleton his-
tory, compiled from a few of the most available boehs
on each period, with evident haste, to the sacrifici^ ef
both uniformity and critique, from a Spanish stand-
point, and with marked hostility toward the KiigH>Ii
race. Tfe is indeed a Spaniard, although long cnii-
nected with ^Texieo. His productions as ])oet, iiovt I-
ist, and journalist are also <'onspicuous in style, with
its tiresome prolixity, exaggerations, and digressi-ius,
its ina])propriate dramatic eil'orts and flnrid diction.

A superior historical method, combining considi rn-
blo research, careful arrangement, and great faini' ss,

TATinOTISM AND PAUTISANSHIP.

r>r)3

must be crcditcil to tlie Jfi'aforift (h Yimtfan of fJov-
truor Ancoua, vvliich wliolly t'clij»sos any provincial
work of the kind in Mexico. It may well siive as
a uKxlol both to writers in <;fcneral aiul to tlio many
special state historians who are now cndeavorinjjf to
cover a long existing defect, and to supply material
for a more thorough work (ui the repul)lio. To this
Q\n\ servo also a number of annals for towns, which
authors have been led to undertake no less from
family reasons tlian from an antici[>ation of local
patronage connecteil with the district ])ride so stiongly
developed ill Mexico during colonial isolation, and
subsequently during long revolutionary feuds. }lo-
iiiero, (jril, Rivera, an<l (ionzalez are among j)rominent
local amialists, and Manual Pay no, Esen<lero, La-
cimza, Arroniz, Biircena, and Lerdo de Tejada liguro
with credit as contributors to history.*

Among historical connnentators who have sought
to combine a review of events with social and politi-

-al

cal science.

may

)e named ironza'jfa

evas and

adco

Ortiz, both imbued with most sound and liberal views
for the reg(Mieration of their country, and \'ict(»r

t)SO

Marti

nez, wl'.o exhibits greater profundity, but

also decided religio-aristocratic leanings that accord
little with progressive republican tendencies around

hnn.

The wide attention rouse<l by Prescott's work on
A/tec culture and the con<iuest served to inij)art
method to the reviving interest of Mexicans in these

>pics, and the forem<»st scholars of the country, such
1, l^amirez, Icazbalceta, ( )rozco v I'crra.

imai

PiiiKMiti'l, and Larrain/ar hastened to supitlemeiit the
production by ])ublisliing documents, notes, and es-
says, on which much labor and thought had heeii be-
stowed. Orozco y Perra went farther and I'esolved
witli the liirlit of the lati^st inv(>sti'j;ations to under-
t ikc a new (examination of the whole subject, includ-
iii ' tlie historv of the abori'jrines, based more lar-'clv
on their own testimony. Upon this task lu; couceu-

^■1

»= ■*

•

1 '

1 1

1:1 !

D54 LITFJIATUKE OF MKXRO-NINIiTKENTlI t'ENTUKY,

traU'd tlm fruit of his i>rcvi(>us ivsi nnlicH (»ii «;<'nnria.
pliy, idioms, and p('<)|»lc'S. TIic nsult was u work
W'liicli tor cuinprulit'iisivciu'ss and value in this rts|)( ci,
surpasses any native ollnrt. Unfortunati'ly the aii-
tli<»r lias not bi'stowed suflicicnt care on the arran^--
nuMit and treatment of his material. Subjects .iic
introduced without due sequinces, and at diH'eniit
times, with repetitions; the text is burdened with
discussions and trivialities, and the hitcrest is further
br(»kon by needless stra^•L;lin|^.

In this conniK'tion niay be mentioned the ambitious
work of Larrainzar on American ruins, notably thnM'
of JSIexico, with speculations on the t»ri!j;in of Indians
and their institutions. It certainly bears the evident c
of both learning and research, but the descri[»tinns
and comparisons are hardlv ever followed bv anv
original t)bservatlons of value, an<l quotations ami
[)oints from a vast array of authorities are often intic-
duccnl with little discriminatiou as to value or fitness.
Indeed, the main effort of the author ajtjiears tiirectnl
to a display of his ac(juaintance with classic and arclia-
ologic lore, and of his turgid style.*

Tlui defects observable especially in the last two
writers are shared more or less by almost all llieir
brethren. It would ap})ear as if they had still Intniv
their eyes the random chronicles of the intlatinn
period. The real cause of the fault lies, lioWe\t r,
in the national impulsiveness, wliich chafes under thr
restraint of method and prolonged application, ami
delights in su[)orHcial gloss. In yielding, therefore,
to the bent for imitation, they are a]tt to seize upi'ii
surface attraction, passing by blindly or impatiently
the jH'rvading i)rinciples, the sul)tler thoughts, spiiit-.
harmony, and philoso[)]iic seipience. (jlenerali/atimi
and reHection exhibit the lack of system and depth lu
false or im[)erfect views, and where more elalMirate
cH'orts appear they aw usually governed by a niatlic-
matical adhesion to studied rules which fails to gri>l>
the main truths. The course of events in j\I( xii'o

I'!*:-' J; 1

BIOCUAPIIIKS.

S5S

seems to bo iiupr(;ssL>(l ui»<)n the style of tluir record.
Frct-'d tVoin the dcpressiii;^' sway and ctiistirsir^* of
c.iloiiial days, writers pressed forwanl in tuiiiulluous
|iartisan attacks, and in definee of patrons and stand-
aid, tiie liberals and ronseivatives, or cliurcliinon,
fiiiiiinjj; tlio two principal bodies. Ailliesion to one
(if these siiles seems im[K;rative, t<t tlic sacrificr of
truth and justice. Even Alaman, so punctilious in
ills strivintjf for impartiality, stumbles over race and
(lass fcelinij;. Passi<»n, tiekleni'ss, and impatience
n\(iTule critical discrimination and treatment, ami the
structure of the lan;_';ua»^c fav«ns redundancy and
looseness. Notwithstanding a <'ertain (bamatic in-
stinct, striking e|)is()des rarely i-eccive efl'ective presen-
tation, most attempts in this direction rel} ing on
timid tlisplay.

The achievement of independence and tlie conse-
((iient revival of local tiaditions and iniieiited glories,
with the exaltation of contempoi'ary as well as nneieiit
lejuh'Ts, gav»,' impulse particularly to collective biog-
ra|»hy. The general strife for itolitical and military
I I'-itions, and a coiispicious vanity, tended in the same
direction. With a change in the taste which marked
the colonial ))erio(b iVom the lives (tfasci-ties and mai'-
tyrs to hero worship, conc(-'ntrated on such mi'U as
Hidalgo, Iturbide, and Juarez, numerous followers
manifested a desire to share by associati»)n in the
lustre of their achiev(>ments.

The most voluminous wiitors in this bianch are
]\Ianuel liivcra and J'^rancisco Sosa. T]]v (idlx rininlis
(1< Mixico of th(> former is really an account of evi'nts
under the rule of the respectivi> viceioysand governors.
full of tires()me detail massed with little symmetry or
judgment, and partaking of the other defects observ-
aMe in his l/isforla <lc Jdhqxi; yet it fills a j»erci'ptible
,L!;a|.. It presents a contrast to the many so-calhd
histories of epochs in Mexico, which are properly
biographies by i>artisans, or disguised autobiographies.

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656 LITERATURE OF :MEXIC0— NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Of more general character is the Biograflas de J\fr:ri-
caiios Distinguidos of Sosa, which claims to embrac i'
prominent men in all the liberal professions, as well us
statesmen and soldiers, but the selection displays a
preference for writers, including a host of petty poets,
notably of Yucatan, to whom he devotes a special
little volume. The sketches are mere outlines of
career, with little or ao attempt at analysis of char-
acter. His more pretentious Episcopado Mexico no
possesses greater historic value by devoting itself to
so influential a class as the archbishops of a priest-
ruled country, but in treatment it is no iniprovenient
upon the former, for conciseness is here broken by
the introduction of petty detail.'

Far superior to either in careful selection and style
is the Homhrr.9 Ilustrcs, edited by Gallo, and written
by a number of the ablest literary men hi the republic
It falls largely into tame narrative, but several of the
sketches exhibit research as well as study and criti(|ti(',
and tend to lift the work to the foremost rank in its
line. Among individual biographies tlie first place
must properly be accorded, by virtue of its form, to
Baz' Vlda de Juarez. It does not surpass the clioice
articles in the preceding work; indeed, the delineation
of traits, tlie study of ofl^ect and counter-effect l)ot\vec'ii
the man and his acts and surroundings, the soundiii;^
of tlio deptlis in human nature, are little consitlered;
yet these are general rather than personal short-com-
ings, and the work remains one of the best specimens
of extended efforts by Mexicans hi a field well occu-
pied, cliieHy by obituary panegyrics, marred by efloits
at rhetorical displa3^

The church now appeals less to biography ns a
means to inculcate devotion. The cause lies not alone
in the transition of its members from somewhat pas-
sive to more active life, enforced by political cliangos
and public opinion, but in the suppression of monastic
orders. The independence war brought about a famil-

PHILOSOPHY AND SCIENCE.

6S7

Y as a
t alone
t ])as-

mastic
taiuil-

iarity of mingling which detracted greatly from the
influence of the clergy. Sim'lar was the result of their
subsequent attitude as the chief promoters of the pro-
longed patricidal wars, in the struggle to maintain
control over the masses and to perpetuate superstitions.
Their defeat and humiliation and the satiric abuse of
the liberals all tended to lower roliijious feeliiii; and
foster aniontr the men at least a wide disregard for
ti >|)ics once held sacred, and a parade of atheism. One
(Hect has been to give a truer direction to clerical
labors, to pulpit oratory, and to special periodicals and
tracts. Tlie decline of pastoral, mcjral, and symbolic
theology among publications is due also to a change
in taste among the reading classes, under a wider
range of topics. Yet it is to he observed that among
notable writers, in the latter respects, figure promi-
nently such political and civil [)ersonagesasBustamante
and Mendivil. Both uphold zealously, in bulky pages,
the miraculous appearance of the Guadalupe virgin
image, a subject likewise defended by Marin, Guridi
and others, against the growing skepticism. This
tendency has not failed to produce a change in polemic
('{forts, from the so exclusive patristic, to a more ra-
tionaliziiio- method, wherein the utterances of Voltaire,
^[ontesquieu, and Chateaubriand are freely used or
debated. The position here held in the preceding
cciitury by men like Palafox and Alegre was prom-
inently occupied, among others, by Bishop Munguia
of Michoacan, whose defense of the church against gov-
eriunent encroachment has procured him no less fume
as a champion than his contributions to moral theology
as a thinker, and spirited and elegant writer."

For their philosophy the jNIexicans have as a rule
been content with translations from European writers,
and so with political economy. Synoptical compila-
tions are well represented, and have assisted to guide
the numerous essayists, prompting them also to wider
study and to original speculations, as instanced in
Mora's Libertad do Conierclo, aud in Pimeiitel's article.

■ '
Ml

ll<

538 LITERATUKE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Wliilc efforts in linguistics have not been so frequent
as before, with the decHne of the rehgious orders
they have developed into the higher analytic and
comparative studies for which the country presents so
vast a field. Herein the talented Gomez de la Cor-
tina has distinguished himself as a prolific writer,
and Pimentel for comprehensive and admirable inves-
tigations. His Cuadro received wide recognition as
one of the most important works on American lan-
guages, and was rewarded with a gold medal from
the Instituto of France. An admirable adjunct to it
exists in the Gcngrafia dc /«.s' Lciifjiias of Oimzco y
Berra, whoso varied contributions on geograpliic and
statistical subjects procured for him much popularity
and honor. More numerous on these topics, and
marked by clearness and judgment, are the vvoiks of
Garcia Cubas. Diaz Covarrubias stands forwartl as
tlie most prominent among Mexican astronomers;
his treatises in this field and also on geodesy have
been received as text-books, and commanded attention
also abroad for their new methods of observatitm.
In geology and botany Mariano Bdrcena has acliievi d
for himself equal distinction. Many more are follow-
ing in paths opened by these men, to strive for similar
usefulness and success, and to advance still furtln r
the honorable position acquired by Mexico in scientific
circles. Payno, Gil, Hernandez, and San Miuiicl
fioure amonir the host of statistical workers, reused
by the precepts of the geographic society of Mexico,
which has also fostered the studv of natural histor\ ,
physics, and similar branches of science, and in(it( d
travellers to publish their observations for the bent fit
of the home-dwellers. In nearly all of these produc-
tions however, there is so far a marked unevenntss,
with a frequent admixture of puerilities and entliu-
siastic vagary, while the examinations and discussions
are either inqierfectly carried out or lacking in deittli;
but better methods are gaining ground.

FICTION.

539

Among the paternal measures which characterized
colonial regime was one restricting the circulation of
proso fiction as dangerous to the political and nioial con-
dition. The more mature folk in the peninsula might
indulge in works even decidedly loose and blas[)liemous,
but the colonists were regarded somewhat like chil-
dren, who must be the more closely guarded against
ilio absorption of noxious ideas, since they 'vt r;j so
remote from the controlling hand of the ruler. The
ecclesiastical powers were only too eager to support
a lavv which operated above all in their interests, and
Bishop Palaft)X took active steps to suppress all
novels and similar books that he could find." Spas-
modic as were these efforts, they served at least to
iiun'case the difficulties with which a local as[)irant in
tliis field would have to contend. The taste for read-
ing manifested toward the close of the colonial period
ooald not fail to direct attention greatly to fiction;
and France, and Spain, and even England and Ger-
many were called upon to meet the demand. The
clergy continued to wage war on the immoral publi-
cations which flow freely, especially from France, and
prevailed on the ucovernment to lend its aid. These
sources are still so extensively drawn from, that Mexi-
can novelists, who may l)e said to have come into
existence only within the last few decades, find com-
paratively little encouragement.

The most pretentious are historic novels by such
men as Juan Matoos and Riva Falaclo. The ^Saccr-
ilofa y Caudllh and Limrgcnfcs of the former treat of
the independence struggle, the Sacerdote represent-
ing Hidalgo, and his Sol de Mcvjo touches the French
intervention. Palaeio continues the subject in his (\iJ-
vario y Tabor, closing with the overthrow of ^laxi-
niilian. The latter deals chiefly with the lower
classes, and introduces a number of stirrinuf incidents
troni their life to sustain a flickering interest. Ma-
toos rises to a higher social level, and keeps close to
the military leaders who form his heroes ; but while

5G0 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

the frequent introduction of battles and political af-
fairs ^ive a historic value to the volumes, the nature
and ])lacc of tiie digressions are such as to interfere
greatly witli the interest, although the a})peals to
patriotic S3'nipathies no doubt serve as c()ni[»ensatioii.

Lack of symnietr}^ cannot be coni[)lained of in the
similar class of novels by Ancona, the able histt)riau of
Yucatan, who lias also used the romantic incidents
culled during his annalistic researches, with such ef-
fect as to merit a reprint at Paris of two stories.
Nevertheless they are somewhat weighted by the
hand of the journalist and investigator, and tliis be-
comes more apparent in the idcstiza, which differs from
the others in relating to middle-class life.

Far inferior to these is Troharra's Mister ios de Chan,
relating to insurrectionary incidents in Yucatan, which
represents a class of novelettes, disjointed in treat-
ment and in style, and springing from the brain of
feeble enthusiasts.

The Gil Gomez of Covarrubias, which covers the
same scenes as Mateo's Saccrdote, has a more S[)anis]i
stamp than the preceding, and concentrates its
strength rather upon love incidents ; the author feels
therefore at home when treating of ordinary life, as in
La Clase Media. The tender passion is all-absorbing
with Florencio del Castillo. He leads indeed in sen-
timent, but the sameness of mould in which his hero-
ines are cast, pure and sweet, yet melancholy, and tlio
general tinge of sadness, are apt to pall upon the
reader. He introduces absurd and broadly suggest-
ive climaxes, as well as strange and inappro[)riatc
phrases, and exhibits other crudities hardly in accord
with the praise lavished by admirers, who call him
the Balzac of Mexico. His best work is HermutKi de
los Angeles. Roberto Esteva's few efforts savor of tlic
same spirit. Fernando, Orozco y Berra, brother of
the archaeologist, wrote a novel in the style of Karr,
which, like his poems, breathes the sorrow of disap-
pointed love, and indicates the broken spirit that faded

POETRY.

661

iiway with the completion of the volume. J. M. Ka-
mirt'Z rt'prt'scnts a large class of feuilleton novelists,
whose productions soklom pass into more permanent
form. Maturer in their aspect of life, and of wider
scope, are the works of Jose de Cuellar ; but while
marked by a vivacious flow the plot is feeble and the
narrative rambling.

Nearly all the novels savor of French models, in
style as well as subject. Nevertheless, affairs of the
heart are depicted in a more tender vein, a reverential
mean between the impassioned fervor and extreme
suggestiveness of the Gaul. Indeed, the love scenes
suipass any other in attraction and power. They
txhibit in a marked degree the soft melancholy whicli
so widely pervades the literature. The portrayal of
rharacter is not effective, and it declines either into
suiface delineations, or leaves very marked gaps. In
tlie adherence to subject and the evolving of plot,
there is also a neglect that mars otherwise spirited
narration. The Mexican is altogether too absorbed
witli particular features to maintain the necessary
l);ihuice, or attend to symmetry. There is a tendency
to apostrophize, to indulge in vague, imperfect pliilos-
opliizing, which is attributable partly to the affecta-
tion and floridity impressed during the cuLismo period,
and still widely sustained by language-structure and
lH)i)ular predilections. The dialogues are easy and
vivacious, although stamped by the general lack of
completeness, of finish. From tliis it may readily be
understood that the short talcs which abound in j)eri-
odicals, signed by Pay no, Fidel, Barcena, atad others,
possess many excellencies, from the mere necessity foi-
conciseness, which favors the more effective features
to tlie exclusion of the defects pertaining to elabora-
tion in larger and more pretentious works."

Tlie close of the colonial period forms in Mexico a
transition epoch also in poetry, from the revival of
classic models so general toward the end of the cen-

ESSAYS AND MiSCRLLANV 36

: I

\A\

■^

5G2 LITERATURE OF MEXKO— NINETEENTH CENTURY.

tury, to the liberal adiriissiou of Frencli, Eiifj;lis]i, and
even Teutonic literature. The clianfje could not fait
to prove beneficial, for the imitation fostered by the
revival was so slavish as to shackle the inia<j:inatl(iii
and lianiper all effort at hulependent flight. The
opening of a wider field, and the free entry of varied
types, gave opportunity and impulses that aflecttd
even those who still clung to the Latin masters.
Spanish ideas remained supreme, however, and duiiiiij;
the transition becomes apparent the influence of Mo-
lendez and his companions, who in the peninsula were
struijgling to establish a new school in connection
with the philosophic spirit then invading its limits.

Although the disorders of the revolution and sub-
sequent republican regime were a serious drawhack to
the cultivation of letters, and ptditical aspirations as-
sisted to draw devotees to more absorbing pursuits,
nevertheless poetry, like history and certain tjtlur
branches, found herein fresh sources for ins[)irati(»ii,
prompted by newly acquired freedom. At times, in-
deed, war and patriotism wholly overshadowed tlic
other sources for lyric efforts, in public and i>rivatc
reunions and celebrations, and in the serenade am]
cognate amenities of a peculiar courtship, here fostered
by the seclusion of woman. Foreign intercourse gave
zest also to other verse, chiefly by presenting vaiied
forms for study, since the country itself provide<l an
abundance of themes, and offered ever-increasing en-
couragement to writers through multiplying periodi-
cals and associations. While turning from reli!>ious
topics, the foreign schools fostered subjective and re-
flective compositions in richer and fr:^er < ourses, and
instilled a higher regard for nature.

In each of the different branches appears a special
revival or inaugural under successive leaders, the first
being lyric and descriptive. The Laiinists, heaih d
by Abad, and the G6ngorist-tinged followers of IJuiz
de Leon had both to yield before the new order ot
things, heralded by the Franciscan friar Manuel

POETRY AND THE DRAMA.

r>(i3

y.ivarrcte, wlio sliiiu-s during the opcniiijj; decade of
our century witli a lustre so surpassing as to procure
for liini tlic cognomen of the American swan. He
was a native of Miclioacan, born in 1708, and began
wiiting at an early period, but modesty restrained
liim from giving any poem to tlie public till 1805,
and then anonymously. \Vh(>n on his death-bed, in
ISO!), he burned a nund)er of his productions, includ-
ing dramas, it appears; but enough of printed and
manuscript pieces were gathered by Yaldea, and
issued at Mexico in 1823 to make two 12o volumes.
Editions also came out in Peru, and at Paris in 1835,
while many poems were reprinted in collections.

His vast superiority over almost every predecessor
in New Spain is evident throughout his range of
pastorals and varied lyrics. While the first are per-
vaded by a light jocular vein, strains appear even
here of the sweet melancholy which stamp the greater
j)art of his productions.

Cnmo en un ramillete
Ailviorte en esta obrilla,
Las inaa pruciosas flores
Que los tienipos marcliitan

J Ay erlad halagiiefia!
Hnyernn tus ddicias,
Sin ilojarnio otros frutos
Que punzantcs espLias.

His bucolics are least regarded, and justly so, for
tlicrc fashion and imitation left the strongest mark.
Although a friar by profession, he was an apt disciple
of Anacreon, though chaste tenderness and purity
Itioathe in every line. His greatest power lies, how-
ever, in religious and elegiac efforts, which abound in
touching sentiment and rise occasionally into lofty
imagery.

In El Alma Privada de la Gloria he surrenders
himself freely to impassioned monody.

Melancdlico vago por cl niundo,

Conio liurtando el scniblante i"! la alcgrfa,

Confornies solo con mi tristo idea

Son tns li'igubres sombraa, tu profundo

Silencio, noche obscxira ...

. . . . i Eterno Dios! de donde se desprende

Contra mi alma el raiulal de tus enojos

Que en tu furor la eucieude.

II m\

504 LITEIIAI'URK OF MEXICO NINETEENTH CENTUIlY.

4 Fiillczco ? en el instanto mo pareco
Quo el liei'iiirmo e'^pectiiciilo <lol iiiutulo
Con Hcinpiterna nuulie He o.scui'ece.
Sale ili'l liondo pecho, cl nia>< ])rofuii(lo.
El ultiinn HU.spini, cii (pie hui/ada
Va mi alma a tn pru.sencia ....
Ati'rranla tiis ojoh, y el seruno
Ke.splaiidor do tu rnstni lo parece
Nul)e (pie aiiiiiii'ia rayn t'oriiiiit.dilo
Cuando trucna el Oliiiipo y ho enardcce.

He has evkleiitly read Young, as well as Mohmdoz
and otlu'iu His detects are of the time no less
than of himself, as instanced hy the often inappropriate
use of inythologic similes. While uneven and faulty
in prosody, he is fluent and unaffected. He is sweet
rather than strong or profound, and the swan is a
designation quite in keeping with his strain, and also
with the change now coming over the spirit of poetry.
He could rise to fiery vigoi", however, as shown in his cel-
ebration of Fernando's ascent to the throne, for which
he received six prize medals.

The insurrection begins, and servile loyalty is trans-
formed into bombastic patriotism. Heroes and na-
tional martyrs take the place of kings and governors;
fetters are cast off, and portals are oj^cned to liberal
and cosnK)pohtan ideas. Several poets feel the impulse
and sing to the dawning era, notably Sanchez de Ta-
gle, who had long remained loyal, but finally turned
to the new dominant power, hailing it in lofty odis.
Satisfied with duty performed, he thereupon sougiit
the more alluring range of erotics; yet this was hardly
his forte. He lacks the tenderness of Navarrete, and
displays a robust vivacity which hovers round surface
attractions to the neglect of the spiritual traits. In
the sonnets he approaches Argensola, and in the more
exalted pa3an which contains his happiest lines he re-
veals a study of Herrera. Of Humboldt he writer :

Aguila audaz, que remontando el vuelo
For Ids orbes de luz sin pausa giras,
Y con ardiente celo
Les dictaa leyes y obediencia inspiraa;
Pesas de cada cual la niasa inmensa,
La drbita encuentraa, ?a distanuia mides.

r(JKTRY AND THE DliAMA.

iMQ

To God ho sinj^s :

Hajii tus jiii's, el tieinpo en raiulo vuelo
J'asa, iiri'i)ll:iiiil<> (Iclts/.iialcd serus :

I'liotilan Vdiii;; el .tULlo,
Y iiasaii, y no son — iy tii ? Siempre eres.

TTis iiiiitatioit is liniitod to form, liowovor, and al>ov(^
itll t(» tli(^ olassic. Heroin lio stands the foroniost ri p-
ivsontativo of tlio ccnturv anion*' Ids countrvnuMi,
jiclmirod for cluisto unattoctod diction w- loss tlian for
vi 'orovis and fiorv inspiration. Like Navarrcto lio
(onsignod most of liis pooms to tlio flamos, butliis son
] ucsorvcd enough to form two volumes. His death was
liiistonod in 1847, at the ago of sixty-six, l»y the United
States invasion, the doplorahlc inoidonts of which
struck deep into the patriotic soul of a nian who had
fur several decades served his country in important
positions, as Spanish rogidor and dojiuty, and as re-
])uhlican senator and governor for Michoacan, his
native state.

(^uintana Roo, a prominent journalist and president
of tlio first inde[)endont congress durir.g the revolution,
ranks amono- the earliest restorers of i^ood taste in
Mexico, with his correct and graceful verse. A later
('X[)onont of the classicism is Manuel Perez Salazar,
a prominent Pueblan ; but with less originality than
Taglo, he sinks too frequently into a cold formality,
wliich has not tended to gain favor for his school. Ho
('X(H'ls in didactic pieces. In the path of Tagle moved
also the brothers Lacunza, es})ocially Juan, whose
early death in 1843 cut short a promising career.
With vivid imagination he ccnnbined a passionate ton-
(loniess and sweet sadness that shone admirably in his
amatory verses. Equal suavity, but less range of
fancv, is displayed bv Francisco Bocanegra.

The influence of foreign intercourse is observed in
tlu! departure inaugurated by Rodriguez Gal van, best
known as the dramatist who introduced the romantic
wliool. His forte lies in patriotic appeals, wherei!i he
cxluhits a spirited idealism, combined with a clear,
chaste style, a sensitive delicacy, and a pathos border-

\il

r.CC LITKRATUltK OK MKXICO NINKTKKXTH CENTURY.

ing on profouiiil niclancholy. Tho latter pervades all
Ills verses to soino extent, reflecting the sorrows and
disappoititnieiits of Lis curtailed life. It is particularly
displayt'd in his Ilutiiou, which is descrihed as

• * * Uii HO])lo It've
Que lii l<iin|)<'ira ruaniinr.
Y la apuga.

K.H fUiil n'liiidd jiliicor
Que I iTcl'uta a li luugur
Su hurmasura.

Rrisa quo inocMi las (loroM
Rulniiuliilu.-i Kus ()l(ii'u.s
Y frcMCura,

His translations from Lamartine and other French
writers are exceedingly good. Galvan has been con-
sidered as tho poet who introduced romanticism in
Mexico. Fernando Calderon takes a step further into
the romantic, and fairly revels in ideal creatit)ns tli.it
combine nohle ardor with tender i)assion. In shi'>int>
to Aniira, he neatly observes,

Tub risas son ainores, Y amor es tu niirar.

But he is above all efltctivo in patriotic ])ieces, uniting
lofty thcnights with fiery utterance, and reaching' iit
times a vivid intensity that places him in this li( kl
above any countryman.
Glory, he ( lis,

* * * pala1>r<a sonora,
Que repitcii la tierra y el cielo,

Del sufrido sDldailo consuelo,
Do los heriie.s brillaute deidail.

The Sueno del Tirano is of Byronian strength.

Del lecho se lanza
Con grito doliente,
Se iiiunda su frente
De frio sudor.

Parece (|ue escucha
La vo/ del destino,
Y' el tnieiio divine,
De juste furor.

Sus ojos cansados
Anlielan el Uanto,
MiiH nunca su cncanto
I'robo la maldad.

The rhyme is after Garcilaso. Among his best lyrir
and descriptive compositions are El ISohktdi) <li l<i
Llbertad, Los Recmrdos, La Rosa March ita, of eclectic
type, and El Porveiiir. Mdrcos Arroniz represmts
the ultra-romanticists, with a Byronian pessimism

rOETIlY.

507

tliij^cd by tlio bittoriK'ss of rojectetl love. The novel-
ist C()vaiTul)la8 iiKluly;t!(l in similar ett'usioiis.

The scntiiaoiitalists have a Htiikiiig expoiioiit in
Juan Valle, related to the first president of the re-
|)ul)lie. lilind from I'arly boyhood, he was, nevertiie-
less, exposed to politi<'al persecution for his ardrnt
party spirit, an<l had tlius a double origin for his
pathos. He was essentially the poet of the revolu-
tions, but indulged also in sacred and erotic verso,
pure and fluent. His descriptive lines leave no defects
to indicate his affliction. Tin l-ve bard is a co;:;-
nomen a[)plied to L. (x. Oiti'z, fr »ni tin predominating
character of his [jieces in the two \ jiumes so far is-
sued. The imagery is delicat' , and fre(juonlly of a
Iiigh order. The soimets are admir.nbh Ortiz has
ds') acquired reputation for translations and novels.
^[. M. Flores is a rival in his paitieular field, whose
Hery invocations, combined with a certain originality,
procured a speedy second edition for his Paslomtrias
collection. Another contributor of great fecundity is
A. L. Gallardo, of Guanajuato, the founder of a S})an-
isli journal in California, where he died a few years
ago. The three volumes issued by him, including
some tales, breathe the spirit of the love-stricken
exile.

Of a different stamp are the produ«"tions of A. M.
Ochoa y Acuna, a priest by profession, and of pure
Spanish descent, wliose best known pieces indicate
one of those portly, merry curates to be found in
Hispano-American country parishes, but who really
aj)[)ears to have been of a sedate temperament, addicted
above all to books. His extensive reading was dis-
played in numerous translations from Latin, French,
and Italian writers, which found little appreciation.
From his own pen flowed odes, sonnets, satires, the
former altogether too 'mitative, with less sentiment
than piquancy and suggestion. Their light-tripping
linos were especially adapted to the satires and epi-
grams on which his fame mainly rests, and for which

568 LITERATURE OF MEXICO— NINETEENTH CENTURY.

he stands unapproached among his countrymen. In-
deed, in many respects he equals and even surpasses
Gongora and Quevedo, the foremost Spaniards in this
field. He is good-natured and quizzical rather than
stinging, free from trivialities as well as personalities,
and observes a decorum and delicacy that raised him
far above Lizardi. Another merit is the avoidance,
both in translations and compositions, of the gallicism
wliich was corrupting the language. One instance of
his style will suffice :

A un paje nada doniiiilo
Dijo, uandolu lui pajiol,
Cierta daiiia: ve cim el
Y entr<f'galo a mi (£uorido.

No era la priiiiera vez
Que il)a el paje, pues tomd
El papel, y preguuto:
Sefiora iii eual de los diez?

Lines of five syllables are frequently used. Of tlie
two volumes of his poetry issued at New York as
Poc.sias de un Mcjimno, the second is devoted to this
class. He lived between 1783-1833.

Satire comes readily to the aborigines, no less from
natural bent than from the effect of their enforced
subordination for centuries to autocrats and castes, as
already observed. The cultured manifestation of the
faculty has been restricted by obvious circumstances,
but of late years it is finding more numerous ex])()-
nents. As their leader, by virtue of pure Indian de-
scent and seniority, as well as a high order of lu'oduo-
tion, may be placed Ignacio Ramirez, sometime min-
ister of justice and public works, and professor of
letters, yet best known for the varied flow of liis
pen in prose and verse. Aboriginal sentiment seems
less amatory than that of some of the other races.
Class peculiarities strike them most readily, and t(i
tlie long-abused clergy is dispensed a full quota of
the banter and ridicule to which they are ex])os(^(l
from all quarters. Even the most sacred of subjects
are no lonf,er respected, and several attempts hnvo
been made in the vein of Avila y Uribe, who amonj;
other things wrote a comic versicm of the Guadahi[»e
miracle, It remains in manuscript on my shelves.

ABORIGINAL EFFORTS.

569

In this connection may be mentioned the droll and
su<»"*i'estive verses of Telosforo liuiz, who issued a col-
k'ction in 186G ; the exuberant Ihies of Tidel ; the neat
(■j)igrams of Tellez, mingled with equally attractive
sonnets in his Rafos PcrdidoH, and the critical satires of
Zarco, in the spirit of Larra. The Spanish residents,
Zaniacois, and Zorrilla, have written much verse of
this character, which is widely read in Mexico.

The observations so far made apply very well to

characterize the classes and styles of poetry among

modern Mexicans. In more ambitious compositions

thiy have as a rule been content with translations of

some ancient and modern classics. Yet e})ics liave

heiii attempted, the most })retentious being the Aitu-

hiKicof Kodiguez y Cos, which treats of the conquest,

a sul)ject that should have allured more writers amid

tlie reviving enthusiasm for aboriginal prestioe. The

[locm is in heroic quatrains with asonantes of a more

sedate tone than that of Kuiz de Leon, a century

Into re, and reveals indeed less spirit and ability.

I'ortraiture is hardly attempted, scenery is little

noticed, and dramatic op}iortunities neglected. While

l\uiz sums the achievements of Cortes, Rodriijuez

seeks to connnemorate the glories of ]\[ontezuma ond

(^)uuulitemotzin,and to this end he warps and colors an

otherwise close adherence to historic narrative. The

tiiirteen cantos, of about ten thousand lines, were pub-

lislii-d at Mexico in 18.5,3, and dedicated with profuse

coinplinioits to Santa Anna, the dictator.

Turning from him to Jose Joaquin Pesado, whom
We have met in history as senator and minister, we
find a poet, who, in La Rnrlariini, dis[)lays a lofty
Sentiment and a beautiful imaircrv that rouse our
liiu'liest admiration. Unfortunately the cantos prove
ti> be in subject as well as form an imitation of Dante's
fiifrriio. The horrors of the doomed, and bliss of
tlie angels are successively pictured, and even a Bca-
trire is fo\uul in T]lisa, only to reveal by comjmrison
liuw far behind the model are these verses iu soaring

570 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

grandeur, in penetration and feeling. Borne by an
antrcl to the internal regions he sees :

La interrunipida luz, fiinclire, escasa,
l^e uu fiiego suhtfrruiieo 4110 li lc> lejos
Uii moiite iiimeiiso retumhiuulo abrasa,
Eiitre iiicve.s laii/^udo sus rctlejon,
El rastro aluiiiln-a, de la barca pasa:
At(;nit()s iiiiM ojos y yurplejos
Veil las olas rodar, correr los iiioutea,
Y eusaiicharae loa negros Uorizoutes.

The blessed dwell

en sombrosas selva.s dilatadas,

Auras serenas y corrieiite.s (iiiras,

Moraii aquesas almas, eiitrt'gadas

l)e liuinaiia ciencia a mciertas eongeturas:

Hablau lie las edades ya paaadas,

De laa horas presented y futuras.

Better known from the nature of the topic, is tlie
lyric descriptive potnn Im Jerusalem,, in nine parts, the
earlier centering in the career of Jesus, the later treat-
ing of the subsequent vicissitudes of the city. Tlio
evident suggestions from Tasso assist to unfold the
many beauties which have procured for the piece so
wide an appreciation. Translations of Petrarch have
also left their impress on Pesado, yet his sonnets bear
more distinctly the touch of Garcilaso. In erotic"
pieces he is reverential, and his pictures of nature
have a dreamy beauty, both features forming tlie
main cliaracteristics of his unquestionably sweet and
graceful verse.

Whatever the objections to his bent for imita-
tion, he has performed thereby a service of gicat
value to his countrymen in pointing out the hcst
features of a variety of models and infusing a su))oi ior
taste. Although reaching the highest elevation in
religious topics, marked by pure idealism, the greattst
credit should be accorded to him for his eflbrts on na-
tional themes, on scenes and sites, and in the elabora-
tion of aboriginal lore, as in Ims Aztecas, wherein lie
strives to preserve the native spirit. He stands tlie
representative eclectic poet of Mexico, in ap[)lyiiig the

IMITATIONS AND TRANSLATIONS.

571

classic form to the best features of roinanticlsni. His
works received the coiiipHmeiit of several editions, be-
ginning ill 1831), and of recognition also in Spain,
whence many honors were conferred upon him. .

Imitations of Dante and Milton are observable also
in the epic production of La Voiula del Espiritit
Scntfo, by Francisco Ortega, but with less happy
results, for the verses are weighted with a tiresome
formality except for a few occasional episodes. In
tliu minor pieces issued in 1839 under the title Po(?s?'«.'^,
Leon appears a conspicious model. Color and feeling
seem however to be subordinated to prosody, which he
illustrated by example and by special treatises.

Unevenness and irretjular diveroence are the rule
rather than exception. In some imitation dims the
lustre of at first strikhig passages; others in striving
for originality mar the picture by defective plan, bald
or over-wrought portrayal, and inappropriate similes.
Neglect of form has overshadowed many spirited es-
says, but, with the naturally imitative tendency m
the people, still more have been borne down by too
close study of models, which has fettered inspiration
and neutralized other higher purposes. Tiiis is ob-
servable in Franco and Lafragua, who conform closelj'
to the severe quintana, and in Diaz, of Jalapa,
whose patriotism led him first to a distinguished mili-
tary career, and subse(]uently to the commemoi'ation
of historic incidents and legends, so much so that he
is widely regarded as the leading poet romancer of
Mexico. Others accord this position to Peon y Con-
treras, a doctor and senator of Yucatan. His Ho-
iiKtiicfS HisforiroH are modelled after Duque de llivas,
hut while inferior in form they fully etpial his in
Inilliancy, in description and metaphor, witli an ap-
propriate change of versification to suit the theme.
His lyrics received the compliment of a reissue. P.
Avaos, of the same state, has achieved a certain repu-
tation in the same field for traditions and fabh^s.

Uoa Barcena figures prominently in historic

•ii.

572 LITERATUEE OF MEXICO— NINETEENTH CENTURY,

themes, chiefly from Aztec sources. Although re-
hoved by occasional flashes, his verse evinces a neglect
of the finest opportunities for description and patJios.
Similarly defective, and faulty in form, is the volume
of lyrics which preceded his legends.

Castillo y Lanzas, Arango, Jose Segura, Busto,
and Alcaraz are best known for translations, fioni
which they have borrowed the characteristics of their
original poems. Alcaraz shows himself an a[)t stu-
dent of Byron in his rich oriental tints that accord
so well with Spanish expressit)n, forming indeed
a part thereof ever since romancists followed the
cross mU) the crescent precincts of Andalucia. Luis
de la Bosa approaches him in coloring, but lacks in
strength.

Jose Segura left some neat sonnets and hexameters,
but his brother Vicente reveals gi'eater promise in
the freshness of his few contributions. Barbacero
made a pretentious tran«lation into verse of Chateau-
briand's Martyrs. Castillo published a small volume,
half of it translations, half mediocre lyrics.

In contrast to these more modeled productions may
be placed those of Guillermo Brieto, Felix Escalante,
and the Yucatan poet Ali)uche, who display less re-
straint and carry the reader along with their stroiiii
impulsivness. The last excels in the fiery ardor el'
love, and Brieto in patriotic zeal, while Alpuche com-
bines both features in somewhat thundering periods
and pa.s.sionate appeals. B. Tovar indulges in social
istic strain, and Aga})ito Silva arrays himself as tlif
champion of the laboring class. They are uneven, as
may be supposed, and a few brilliant flashes are inti i-
spersed with much crude and commonplace matter.
This ajtpliesalsoto Jose de Cuellar, Emilio Bey, (jial-
lardo and even to Sariilana, who shows consideralilf
feeliuii", but as a rule is like all the rest continualK'
on the verge of something pronnsing, without realiz-
ing the expectation roused. Miran ajipears to lia\e
read Ossian, Gavarni indicates a taste for portraits,

REIJGIOUS POETRY.

573

Couto showis a curbed enthusiasm, and the mysticism
ao dear to native fancy is embraced by the priests
Martinez and Sartorio. The latter belongs to the
revolutionary period, and may be classed as a repre-
sentative versifier, in whom a pious adoration of the
virgin could alone infuse a scintillating spark.

Yucatan has been comparatively piolific in writers
of no mean order, although they are little heard of.
By the side of Apulche figure lldefonso J^eicz,
NEontero, Peraza, Iruzillo, Estrada, and Zorrilla,
wliose versos have a rather formal stamp.

The Spanish Zorilla finds an apt follower in P. J,
Perez, who yields in soaring metaphor to an ardent
patriotism. Aznar Barbachano sings in tearful ac-
cents; Aldana has achieved recognition for fanciful
oinbellishment; and Justo Sierra is a jiroinising poet,
wlio made liis first mark by introducing the causcrie
r<^lumn in Mexican journals.

Notwithstanding the excellencies of several among
tlic preceding writers, the rank of favorite poet nmst
he assigned to Manuel Carpio. By some he is esteemed
MS the representative in sacred themes, by virtue of
his own devotion, of the character of his more preten-
tious pieces, notably in honor of the virgin, and of a
inaiked de<j:ree of ori«»iiuility. A closer aiialvsis re-
veals many defects. The epic verse is faulty in plan
and proportion, as instanced particularly in La Iin-
niticnlada Conrepciou. At some of tlie most interest-
ii)g points of portrayal or retle(;tion he hastens onwanl
ahruptly, to dilate instead on less striking ])hases.
There is also a repetition of imagery with slight varia-
tion of form, and some glaring ])rosaicisms. These
disappointments of expectation, and lapses, are not in-
tVcipient. Yet they are here to be ascribed less to un-
sustahied power and resources than to vagarious taste
and impulsiveness, and to lack of appreciation for sym-
111' try, all short-comings of a national rather than in-
<li\ idual stamp. Com])ared with those of liis confreres
the flippancies are therefore not serious, and they are

M ' 1^

i':' I.

S:M

■i:l:

574 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NIXETEENTII CENTURY.

fully balanced by the truer poetic ring of the lines, the
uuaH'ected flow of diction.

The forte of Carpio, however, lies properly in de-
scriptive poetry. Herein he occujiics undoubtedly
the representative place. While impressed by the
solemnity of religion and its sublime adjuncts, lie
finds his real inspiration in the grandeur and beauty
of nature. He beholds the splendor of spheres, lie
recognizes the majesty of towering [)eaks, he delij^hts
in the variegated aspect of pastoral scenes, he feels
the desolation of the ruin.

In La Inmensidad de Dins he writes :

Asi, l)io3 sublime, tii llenaa los mundos
De nil lado hasta el otro del gran finiiamento,
Y inny mas arritia so elova tu asicuto,
Adoude no llegau los rayoa del sol.

He seeks evidence of the creator in all the panora-
mic phases of nature till he reaches the flower in the
field.

Pasada la lliivia se alogra la yerba,

Y al aire se mueve su tallo florido,

Y cu tauto mis ojos te ven escoudido
Alia eiitre las liojas de la hilmcda Uor.

In this class of composition the blots mentioned are
less ol)trusive. Here his soul revels in unrestrained
ease, with oft-surprising maintenance of power. It
becomes apparent that the descriptive passages in liis
sacred verse are the chief props and attractions; that
the abstract was imposed upon him by piety ratlicr
than innate disposition. He is an olyective rather than
subjective writer, excelling in observation rather than
reflection, and surpassing in certain loftier topics the
celebrated Heredia, a Cuban exile long associated with
Mexican affairs. Here is also more conspicuous the
influence of his classic studies, in the admirable e<\m-
poise of diction which eschews floridity and seeks
adornment in bright traceries of fancy — a combinatien
of simplicity and elegance in accord with true poetic
instinct. He delights in vigorous utterance, as ilhis-
trated partly in the consonant rhyme, yet abhors ex-

WOMAN.

:/o

a<;geration no less than artificiality, as instanced in his
( pigrani on frenetic writers.

Este drama si estA Imcno,
Hay eii el inoiij.i.s, .soldailos,
Locus, allilllH^4, ahiirciuloH,

Bt:l)l!(lorfS llu VlMU'llO,

I unuij cuuntus ikgollados.

In lighter verse lie is less at home. The tender-
ness of" L*etrarch and the ijrace of Aiiacreon hotli iail
to appear, and the more evident imitation sinks into
commonplace.

Born at Cosamaloapan, in Vera Cruz, 1791, the son
of a Spanish trader and his onsole wife, he studied Hist
at Puebla and then at ISlexieo, where he afterward
acquired a high reputation as doctor. He long held
the chair of physiology and hygiene at the ca,|)ital,
and while in congress was elected speaker of the
lioiise. Archielogy, classics, a'ld theology were the
favorite pursuits of this eager student, and several lit-
erary and scientific societies enrolled his name. Not
till after passing his fortieth year did he give any
productions to the public, the first being in honor of
the virgin. After this he became a fretiuiiit contri-
butor to the journals, and to S(Mne books. If is ])icces
Were collected and published under the auspices of
Pesado and Couto, and received more than one re-
print. He died in 1800.

While endowed with relatively stronger mind than
liiT I'^uropean sisters, woman in Mexico has been ke|)t
iiKiie in the backsxround under the duenna svstetn,
wiiich stifles her budding voutli, and leaves her ever
after unfit to encounter the responsibilities of life.
The modesty and gentle sense of tlu; creole women
ivci' prompt them to accoid preeminence to their
In^vls, who accept the concession with conceited self-
assurance. With spreading education and iidusion
of liberal ideas from the adjoining repul)lic, woman is
ltcL!,inning to understand and exert her ability under
the guidance of an able group of leaders.

57G LITEBATURE OF MEXICO- NINETEENTH CEXTURY.

Among these stand prominent Ester Ta[)ia tic
Castelianos, of Michoacan, a lyric poetess of no mejui
order, far superior to tliu Jiverage of pretentious and
better-known singers of the other sex, and uliosi'
wortli nmst in time raise lier nearer to tlie elevation
to which she is entitled. Her Florcs tSllvcstrc.^, issued
in 1871, commanded attention in so many quarters as
to encourage the publication some years later of ('an-
ticos de los Ninos, a theme a})propriate for the woniaii
as well as mother, and promising to add popularity if
not higher fame. Her lines have smoothness of tiow
markedly in contrast to t)ie connnon impulsivcnci-s
aiid exaggeration, and her pictures are refreshingly
j)ure 'ind daintily delicate. Her's is no slavish imit.i-
tion ; images form in natural and appropriate ordc i-.
and while not soaring to the sublime, they reflect dtcp
feeling and emotion hidden from ruder eyes. She is
essentially chaste, and happy conceits dance along in
graceful rhythm. In answer to a child's que.slidii
what is fatherland ? she answers :

....esc nonil)re adnrado,
Es luanantial ile eiiidcicnies;
E-i lo que hay mas vcnerailo,
Es un conjtxnto sagrado
De recuerdos e ilu-siimes.

She finds it in the air and soil, hi hearths and
temples.

Es la brim perfumada
Que niece las fre.scas Hores
Eh la ribera cncautada,
I)o la rosa nacarada
Luce ufaua sus colores.

She thus neatly compares the humming-bird witli
love :

Es inconstante
Cuanto es liermoso;
Vi-i cns^atSoso
Cual la iluHion.

La grata esencia
Se va robando,
Y va volando
Como el amor.

In this tripping metre she succeeds admirably.
Among aspiring contemporary women may be mcc
tioned G. I. Zavala and R. C. Gutierrez of Yucatan,

DRAMATIC WRITERS.

C77

7\rcsa Vera of Tabaseo, and Dolores Guerrero of
Duraiigo, died botli at un early a^e after leaviiiijj fugi-
tive [)iec('8 of the most iJroinisiiig' nature, eliicHy ele-
<j:\m'. Guerrero has been compared to the Mexiean

nun.

The condition of afitiirs is not favorable to dramatic
art in a country with a decided jtredilection for balls,
parties, and similar gathering's of an actively partici-
pative rather than auditorial character; where there
are few towns populous enough to su[)[)ort theatres,
and where managers find for their infrequciut pcr-
lonnances ample and cheap recourse in Spanish
iliiiuiMs, or in translations, efsjiecially from the sym|>a-
tlictic French, of pieces whose fame abroad had roust-d
a general desire for local ])resentation. In the face of
siu li imposing competition for the meagre opening at
liaiid, there is little encouragement for native phiy-
wrights. Nevertheless, considerable numbers have
crnppcd up, stimulated by literary and dramatic asso-
ciations, and content with the applause of friends at
tlir rare and crude [)roduction of their efforts. Among
the names, three liave risen to distinction. Foremost
stands Manuel Eduardo de Gorostiza, the restorer of
\m art in Mexico, as the first to write good comeilies
after the decline, and who raid^s with the leading
dramatists of his time in Sjianish literature. He
Was l)orn at Vera Cruz, where his father was governor,
on account of wlu.se J.eath he was taken to Spain at
an early age. His brother induced him to adoj)t tlie
military profession, and he attauied the rank of a
ru'uteuant-colonel ; but in 1823 we find him an exile
in England. His talents and liberal ideas had at-
tracted the attention of Mexico, and henceforth until
Iiis death, in 1851, at the age of sixty-two, lie is con-
nected wholly with his natal country, as foreign min-
ister, and in other exalted positions. He served in
tlic war against the United States, and being taken
prisoner at Churubusco. was treated bv the victors

Essays and Misckllany u"

■ii: .il

'im

578 LITKUATURE OF MEXICO- NINin'KKNTlI CENTUKY.

witli both kindness and respect. He can tlu'ief'oio
be claimed as a Mexican as fully as his ^reat jircde-
ccHsor, Alarcon. The draujatic histinct was iiiiiiitr.
tor lie hcLj-an to write in hovhood, but achieve<l fame
oidy after 1815 with his IiuhiUjoicia jKim Tatlos, a
C(Mnedy wherein a sprightly fiancee entra})S her be-
trothed into several sc)a})es, and proves to the joy of
all that he is by no means the spiritless and insijtidly
virtuous man painted by reputation. The most strik-
ing incident is the whming of his love by the bride in
an assumed character, which results in a sham dutl
with h r brother. Coiiiiijo Pan y Ccbolla, from wliidi
Scribe borrowed one of his successes, is even superini-
to this, and El A)ni(jo I)ifiiii(t, Don JJicynito, and others
in verse and prose, sustained both his popularity and
merit as a writer. The subjects belong to the middle
class of life, and reveal an intimate knowledge of soci-
ety and human nature, depicted with nmch humor and
neat raillery, yet with great purity of tone and Inn-
guage. He rearranged several works of others, and
translated a nundier of French dramatic coni})ositioiis.
(iorostiza must be placed by tlie side of Moratin tlio
younger, to whose school of jVIoliere's type he beloiit;s,
but whom he surpasses in spirit if not in sentiment,
thus aiding essentially to promote a taste for tli(>
classic elements with which it was sought to remodol
the drama. Besides special publications, a collection
of his early works a])peared at Brussels in IHiT), in
two volumes, and a immber of select pieces have hcin
reprinted in such publications as Bibliofcca McxinuKi,
Mexico, 1851. His plots are ingenious, and the use
of different metre to suit the varying action atlds to
the animation.

Close to Gorostiza as dramatic restorer or initiator
must be placed Ignacio Rodriguez Galvan, alnady
spoken of in connection with the romantic school of
poetry, to whom is credited the introduction of mod-
ern drama into Mexico. He, himself, lays claim t<)
Midioz, Visitador de Mejico, as the first original ^Mexi-

THE nilAMA.

670

can profluotioii in this field. It was presented at tlie
capital in 18;{K, midst i^reat applause, as the first
national historic dramatization. The suhjert is the
amorous infatuation of the infamous Munoz, who held
sway over New Spain in 1507. The woman scorns
his advances, and in his fury he cau.ses the object of
her love to be slain ; she falls dead upon the coij)se.

In the effort to depict the tyrant, the author j^oes
to an extreme that becomes monotonous ; neverthe-
less, there is a number of fine and strontij passages,
which indicate an exalted imaij^i nation, while the ac-
cessory figures and dialogues show a due appreciation
foi- ett'ect. Kl Privmh) del Virey, also taken fi-om
early colonial history, and publislied four years later,
is not so strong. While imbued with romanticism,
(Jalvan tempered it by a close study of Alarcon, to
liim the supreme master in the art, as he declares in
a dedication to this ])ersonage written in exaggerate*!
imitation of old Spanish. The defects are to be at-
tribute:^ to inmiaturity of age and training. Curbed
ambition and disappointments had tinged his sjtirit
with the melancholy observable in nearly all his works.
He had struggled since boyhood for a humble exist-
ence in the book-store of his uncle at ^Mexico, devot-
ing the late hours of night to study. In \H42 he
received a tardy recognition in an aj)pointment with
a legation to South America, but died of yellow fever
on the way, at the age of twenty-six, in the midst of
the most brilliant promise.

In this connection mav be noted Bocanci^ra's IV/.sro
Xiuiez, which appears to have been influenced to some
cxti'nt by Galvan's ])ieces, and Evvariianoii Jiosas by
Pablo Yillascnor, relating to the defence of !Mescala
thuing the revolution. The latter is cruder, with not
sufficient spirit in incident and language to sustain
it. It was well received at Guadalajara in i8.51,
despite the temperate treatment of the Spanish "je.

Francisco Ortega, the poet, wrote as early as 1821.
M''}ico Libre, a drama celebrating the acquisition -jf

:.H0 I.ITKIIATIIKK OF MKXH'O -NIXKTKFA'TH (KNTUIIV,

i:l

iiKlcpcndciirc, arnl wliicli ij) a inonsurc sets asitic the
(Iiliii of (Jalvaii to priority in this (liri'ctioii. Il(!
lift anotlu'r historit; |)ioc'o, Vamnlzin, rdatiiij^ to tlir
cniHlucsts, and also a coMMMly. 'I'lu; sanic cpocli as in
Mrjico IJhrc is toudied in Sarinana's E)itr(ulr as a pooin iinhucd with the well-known rciliip.r
of tlu! writer. Ochoa had also appeared in this fii U
with a trajijody and two comedies, oiio of these in lii-^
humorous V(Mn. A short piece by Gonzalez Castio
reveals ])romisinf]j lines in the same voin, directtd
a^jfainst ])olitiral parties.

The work begun hy (Jialvau was taken up most suc-
cessfully hy Fernando (^alderon y Beltran. who p( i-
fected the modern drama, althouj^h not from national
suhjeets, hut fi'om sources more suited to his romantic
ideas. To this he aj)plied sucli inspiration and fiuisli,
in addition to a prolific proiluction, as to assume rank
as leading dramatist of the republic, that is, ajiait
from comedy, for lierein (lorostiza enjoys the undis-
puted preeminence. His neglect of local topics is nut
to be expected of a man who has taken so active a
part in public life. As an enthusiastic liberal ho joiiidl
in revolutions at the expense of his liealth and estate,
(>xiled as he was both from his native city of Guada-
lajara and from Zacateeas, his adopted state, j'ai-
doned in consideration of his genius, he here enten d
anew into the political arena, figuring as deputy, magis-
trate, and other positions suited to his training as
barrister, until hisdeath in 1845 at the age of thirtv-six.
His ert^'orts were guided by a study of Breton do
OS Herreros, which certainly tended to his popularity,
n truth, the success of his comedy, Ningwia dr. hi^
Vr.s, depicting the vain efforts of three unwortiiy
■uitors to gain the hand of a prudent widow, lies
greatly in its imitations of Breton's Marcda. Yet it
must be admitted that the exposure of social weak-
nesses is neat, esjiecially the assumption of those who
after a trip abroad come back only to criticise every-

THE DRAMA.

r.8i

lliiiii^ iit liomc. CuMcrDii's l»('st work lies liowcncr in
;i licuvicr line, iiotnldy in diivalr; p'uct's, in whicli
Ills roiiiaiitic sciitiiiifiits uiid Hoaiiii*; vci'si; riiid t'ltt-
s(ii|»t', iiiid litliiig sul)JL'cts ill proiKl kni;^lits and iiolilo
(laiiits. Ill till! iiUHt of iiK'dianal iiiiicH lu' can satViy
lit pict ideal licincs with all tlu- liiniy of t'litliusiasin,
with lofty aim and soimdinj^ words and liciy lovf.
Historic truth is not allowed to intcrru[)t his How,
iiiid lie alinost scorns to mar scenes so stately with
iirtifice of plot. His love soars al)ovo tl»e sensual to
thi! spiritual, alon!4 with his inten.se patriotism; and
iiotwitlistandhi^ tlu^ fame accjuired as a playwright, he
MUiains ahove all the poet, and his verse now mainly
sustains h' ; works. The foremost ]»lace may \>i' as-
si:;iie(l to his UcniKiii, a youiiiL? cru.sader wlu* n-turiis
t • fmd his betrothed surrendered to an elderly duki'.
W'hili! seekiiiLC tin intt'iview with her he is surprised
hy the jealous Jiusband and is condemned to death.
His mother comes to the re.scuu by disclosing him to
lie the natural son of that personage, He is recog-
nized by tilt! duk(>, and returns to die for the lioly
tause. A7 Toriico turns on the adventures of a youth
aliducted from the Creole, who at the su[)reme moment
liiids l)otli liis parents and his bride, .liia Holatia is
a stat(.'ly piece, but l>lays liavoc with liistoric truth.
i'/iLilit earlier pieces liad been performed at Zacatecas
and (iuadalajaia, tlie first, in 18"J7, being Jicina/do y
FJriru. Kl Calxillcro Xcfji'd was left unfinished. Two
iditions of Calderon's works a[)peared at ISIexico in
IS4 4 and 1849, and a})preciatioii has also been mani-
fested abroad, })articularly in South America.

.r. Scon V Contreras of Yucatan has attained con-
slderable popularity in tlie republic with his cajxi y
(^ixtdd or love-intrigue pieces, so peculiarly S})anisli
ill form and estimation. He folhnvs tlie old school
tiu) closely, however, and is moreover hasty. J. A.
Cisneros, an elegiac poet, outranks him in priority
iis tlie first dramatic writer of his peninsula, where he
idbo aspired to the foremost position as satirist. He

! !

if H

■f

!
i
f

¥1

582 LITERATURE OF MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

claims the credit of several reforms in his art, sucli as
tlie suppression of monologues. Mexicans delight
al)ove all in the farcical, and a typical piece in this u-
h[)ect is presented in the liorraaca de un SohraUnlo hy
Palacio and Mateos, dei»icting the troubles into wlmli
the careless and graceless owner of an overcoat is lid.
It is full of the droll incidents and conceits so charac-
teristic of the people, yet it descends too frequently
into i)uerilities for the northern mind, which also ob-
jects to the sacrifice of connection and consistency to
'momentary gain. TheOdio Ucrcdifario accords better
with the vein of these Instorical novelists.

Whibi the comic would seemingly prove attractive
to local writers, those possessing the ability exiKiid
their efforts as a rule on short verse, and as})iraiits
to sustained contributions for the theatre are too In -
quently carried away by more ambitious theni( s.
Thus in society plays the sentimental strain beconu s
marked, with a tendency to unhapjty love, as ex-
pi-essed in Peon Contrei'a's Cmi'njo de Dm, and Cue-
liar's Dcbcres y ISctcriJicios. The latter exhibits tlu'
•patriotic devotion of a husban<l for a refugee friem!,
who, again, sacrifices himself by declining the low
of the wife which had meanwhile turned to him.

J'Jl Mtddfo of Torvella relates in prose the unhappy
passion of a slave for the daughter of his master. i'< i
which he is persecuted and driven tosuicide. It finally
appears that he is an offspring of the cruel niasUi'.
In this vein run several among the score of dramas
written by A. L. Oallardo, the exiled editor and \)i)v[ ol'
San Francisco, the l>est being, however, J/f/r/Vr Anla-
iiicfa de Lorena, in Galvan's liistoric form. Camprudoii
dwells in F/or dr iin Din, on tlie brighter subject <»t' a
woman who marries a man for liis title, grows uii-
haj)py, but is finally won by the nol)le traits of hei' lni>-
band. An equally attractive subject is El Bei<o of Cii-
losEscudero, whose several excellent comedies brouoht
him much local fanu\ and induced a dramatic soi ioty
to adopt his name for a title. Among other writois

LATim WRITERS.

583

nmst be mentioned J. M. Vij^il, the historian and
p()(!t ; Es Anievas, Senator Ortega, General Toriiel,
wliose prose work, Jm Mucrtc dc Ciccron, liardly ac-
cords with the times and circumstances ; A'alle, tlie
Wind poet; R. Aldana, of Yucatan ; A. Silva, the
democratic poet. M. Gutierrez' U)ia para Tados, re-
calls Calderon's Nirifjima dc las Trcs. F. Orozco y
Borra, the poet, wrote the comedi(>s Los Trcs Aspi-
raiifcs and IjOS Trcs Pair iotas. Moreno, renowned for
his fables, and F. do Soria left comedies, and Ijj;nacio
Austria, Antonio Hurtado, Emilio Hey, Jose G. Za-
iiiora, Zayas y Enricjuez, Zeronimo Baturoni, Joaquin
Villal(>bos, F. M. Escalante, and Tovar have likewise
tried their pens as playwrights. Finally nmst be men-
tioned one conspicuous mcnd)er from the other sex in
Isabel Pricto, wlio, while born in Spain, came to
Mexico in early childhood, there to be educated and
married. As a poetess she sings of maternal love and
family joys, and this sentimental spirit is noticeable
also in her works for the statj;e, more than a dozen in
tmmber, notably dramas of the temperate romantic
school, with neat female characters, supplemented by
some comedies of Bretonian stamp.

Few of these productions have survived the first
presentation, less have seen print, and many have re-
mained unheard and uncojiied. The cause lies not so
much in defects due to lack of experience or dramatic
taste or inspiration, as in the lack of opportunities to
roach the stage, as obse':'ved before. The result has
1)1 'en partly to discourage authors, particularly from
oriijinal efforts, and to foster the imitations observal>lc
ovon in Cnltlcron and (jralvan. The tendency is de-
plorable from one aspect, but the superior training
thereby acquired nmst in time make itself felt, and
permit a departure leading, perhaps, to a truly national
sr'liool. The array of aspirants in the fiehl, desj)ite all
oKstacles, indicates how wide- spread is the taste inher-
iti'd from forefathers among whom flourished Lope,
Calderon, and Cervantes, and what may consequently

14 tds'lst

]|j

■H

684 LITERATURE OF MEXICO- NINETEEN! II CENTURY.

be expected from a country wliicli has cradled Alaroon
and (ilorostiza, not to mention tlie immediate succes-
sors of the latter.

The government has occasionally manifested a de-
sire to promote local talent, and to foster taste, but
the subsidies have been misdirected and spasmodic,
owing to distracting party struggles and constant
changes. In 1831-2 a credit of $20,000 was opened.
and Maximilian showed himself equally thoughtful,
two theatres receiving: from him .$300 a month each.
Musical performances were chiefly favored. One care
of the censor appointed in 1828 was to expose royalty
and its accessories as objects for scoff or tragedy.'^ A
censorship has generally existed, and while little
aversion is shown for extremes of French style, objec-
tionable features are glossed or turned into a more
tacceptable channel. A characteristic effort is always
made to save appearances. The disposition for slmw
and effect, combined with unreflecting impulse, i'e\eals
itself, especially in ambitious themes, by hiconsisteiicy
and lack of historic truth, and a yielding to rhapsody
and the fantastic rather than the imaginative.

The best efforts of the jSIexican poets must be sought
rather in fugitive pieces, prompted l)y an inii)ulsive
vivacity, f'an in more elaborate compositions, requir-
ing a sustained plan, and a harmonious coordination of
details. The attempted epics have, as a rule, dropped
down to plain narrative poems, or shone for a time in
the borrowed lustre of moi'e or h^ss ularinsjc imitatieii.
The inclination to copy, marked enough in this iv-
spect among the S])aniards, has been intensified w'tli
the infusion of aboriginal blood. When confined td
Spanish or classic models, it seems to have stultified
the students. Later, the art of all Europe was o]>eiii(l
to them, and althouoh thev lin-jjered rather ex<lusivilv
within the (iallic border, taste failed not to derive
benefit, as instanced by Alcaraz, Lacunza, and otln is.

Their strength lies above all in amatory poems, so

I'OETIIY,

685

S( HI gilt

iilsive
(■(juir-
tidii of

■()]i]>c(l

me ill

itatiiwi.

lis rc-

l NV'tll
led fii
llltiliid
n])i'!ii'ii
isi\i'lv
dciivt'
)tli('rs.
Ills, no

Piu<']i in kcoplnuj with their gallant disposition, soela-
I)i]ity, and niohih; })assi()ns, but liere neither tlie
hluntness of the Si)aniard in ordinary life, nor the
extreme sugi^estiveness of the Frencliman, can he said
to prevail; ratlier an inijK'tuous tenderness that im-
I tarts a special charm to the verse. To this must be
atlded the tendencv toward eleiiiac strains which is so
marked amonij the aborij»inal ancestrv. It is not
deep, however, for the ^Mexican is after all a s})rightly
individual, incrmed to frivolity, and little intent on the
car(!s of to-morrow. Hence his affection for the Cas-
tilian ])roverb and epigram, which, united to the
native bent for satire, have tended to form a di'oll
suggestive kind of humor of a j>icaresque order, that
to tlie foreigner smacks of pu(nility. It is iimocent,
however, for it attacks classes ami class traits rather
tlian individuals.

While the ode is a favorite form of verse, whether
]ir(iiii})t'jd by patriotism, or by the ins[)iring beauty and
grandeur of nature, it must bo confessed that on tlu>
whole the elibrts in this direction fall short of their
aim; the will is there but not the power, and exceji-
tions sustain the rule. (,)f patriotic lines it may be
said that they are pitched too high for us, with thun-
dering apostrophes, strong invectives, and glitti^'ing
sentences. In philosophic themes the shallow treat-
nuMit is <'ither broken in upon by rash utterance, or
left markedly unfinislied: the mysticism of tin; schol-
astic era has faded with the inlhix of new idi'as. In-
<<»in])lctcness also stamps the j)ortrayal of character
oi' individuals, and the description of scenery, due
partly to want of depth and criticism, ])artly to iiiher-
» lit lack of a}>})reciation. '^i'he Indians are noted for
a lovi! of flowers, but the Spaniards reveal little taste
t'li' any natural object, and the feeble eflbrts of the
AFexicans in this ri'gard appear to be ])rompted l)y
foreign models; a prompting also indicate(l by the
clioice of subjects, with insufKcient regard for the rich
aboriijinal sources.

586 LITERATURE OF MEXICO— NINETEENTH CENTURY,

While the study of classic metre has left its traces,
the declamatory bent of the people also leads to the
idiomatic and quantitative rhythm which characterizes
it. The irregular improvisatory silva is much used.
Otherwise the old national redondilla and the ottava
rinia measures may be regarded as the favorites, nota-
bly the latter, although the short verse is undoubtedly
the happiest with them. The leaning toward vcrso.^
lie arte mayor, as longer lines are called, is greatly duo
to affectation, although fostered by the remarked )]o
adaptivcness of the language for rhyme, extending in
the consonantal to two, and even three syllables, and
to three or more lines. Indeed, there are long poems
with a predominant or unchanging rhjnne. The mo-
notony of this Moorish feature no doubt influenced
the reaction manifested in the asonante compromise
between blank and consonantal endings, so purely
Spanish, and so pleasing. Occasional rhyme is also
used, and the form of Garcilaso in connecting one
stanza with the following. The tendency to inappro-
priate language and imagery, to vehement terms and
a nmltiplicity of adjectives, is [)artly idiosyncratic, and
must not be judged by the samestrict rules governing
less volatile nations. With all the study of modrls,
the laws of prosody, of euphony, are frequently in-
vaded, as might of course by expected from the imprt-
uous temperament of the Creoles, impatient under
Dustained regulations. It must be admitted, howincr,
that they possess a wide and choice range of words,
strikingly manifested in comparing the vocabulary of
the lower classes with that of corresponding Anglo-
Saxon ranks; and this facility, combined with easy
rhythmic flow and natural vivacity, imparts an un-
deniable attraction.

The use of Americanisms is widely approved l>y
leading writers, yet not very marked. While tlie
academy dictionary is upheld, the number of transla-
tions current, and the affectation of foreign imit;itor3
has led to tlie introduction of foreign phrases, and a

PROGRESS.

887

French form at times very glaring ; others affect an
antiquated style, with enclitics and other features.
The use of lo and Ic in the accusative, and certain
other points differ from the peninsular rules. The
orthography is strictly phonetic; nevertheless the
confusion with b and v, g, j and x, c, q, s and z, i and y,
and li, with accents and other forms, even among the
Inst writers, shows the prevalent instability, and the
need of concerted action amonij: ii^en of letters under
the guidance of another Cortina. In such a case it
might be connncndable, in a patriotic sense, to yield
to the party clamoring for Mexican distinctiveness,
yet the modern tendency toward universality and sim-
plicity, toward progress, would undoubtedly demand
greater accord with peninsular taste.

j\Icxico has more than kept pace with the universal
advance during the present century, when her back-
ward position during colonial days is considered. Tlie
masses then were restrained in aspirations not alone
by state and church, as in other catholic countries,
but by class and race jealousies. With the achieve-
ment of independence, mestizos advanced to the front
in public life, and to contend with the pure Creoles for
supremacy also in literature and other fields. The
Indian was held back awhile by political intrigue, by
tlio eti'cct of centuries of suppression, and by natural
(lillidence. Nevertheless he gradually crept forward,
and his progress would have been greater but for the
struggles of the church to retain her control.

The Creole fashion of despising local productions
and writers had to yield before the revolution to the
aptitude and vivacity of the mestizo, and now has
}tasscd away in all directions with the rise of rulers,
savants, and industrial leaders from every class and
Yiivo. The revival so widely observed of aboriginal
traditions and glories nmst acquire firmer hold under
tlie auspices of such men as Juarez and Alvarez,
lianiirez and Altamirano; and with the elevation of

588 LITKUATUHK OK MKXU'i) N'lXKT.lKM'il I'KNTrKV.

iuit'u>n{il t«>j»i*'s iind l<H'al writers, Aiiiiliuac will soon
boast, of sclit ols of lirr own in (.lilK-rt'iit ilcparliiiciiis
of K>t((>rs.

I^'roin this as|H'ct names likc^ ( Joi"osti/;iaii(l Caldrroii

icM'i'do ln'forc lliat of (jalvau, wiu

o, altlioU!4li

proliru' and hrilliant, porfonncd a fjjri'atcr .siTvicc* I'.u'
ids t'ouMti\v ill |trrsi>iitin>4; a national drama and direct -
in^j taste to historic us well as local sourci's. The
elfoils of lyric j)oi>ts in tlu^ same din-ction wen^ less
nu'ritoriims. inj|>(>lled as tliey wtM'o l>y cii'cumslanees.
in ri'sponst' t(» o'enei'al ))ul»lie demand. With tlieni
tlu» credit shall he |>ersi>verance, for ]\Ie\ieans, hv
their own admission, are backward in many branches,
and la»'lv. for instance, a. niitional epic of a hi^h ty|u'.
There is also room for improvement in fornj. The
simpK^ stvle o\' the sixteenth C' durv was abandoned
for the artilicialities o\' (Scuioorism, wherein thestriv-
iii;j; was to snrjiass in extravagance and iloridity. A
I'caetion set in, l)iit the disposition still clint:Jastron^ly,
favv)ri>d by the structur(' of the lan^iiao-e and vavo
characteristics. A d*M'per study of An<j;lo-Saxon aiul
Teutonic mo(K>ls oiler the best antidotc\

TiiJ growinjj; part icijiat ion of Indians in literatuit-
may liave ;i <;'oo(l iMlect in oiXMiinjj; additional founts tor
iuspiratit)n, and in toning'' the inhei-itiul Spanish e\-
ubei-ance, as well as impartint;" stri'ni;th to di'licieiit
branches. The precocity of the mestizo, restiiiij,'
partly on the fact that lie enjoyed superior ad\an-
ta!»es. mav be balanced bv the greater dei)th of tlie
less volatile natives, which a«;ain reminds us that
tl

volatile natives,
lese, with theii' iidtM'ior ran<^'e of imaj^'ination, prom-

ise to I'xcel ratlu'r in tlu' solid branch(>s, leaving' to t

mori' sprightly cnole and intermi'diat»> laees

li-1

Iter

i\m\ more fani'iful topics. Xi>vertheless satiric no le.-:s
than njystii' veins are innate with the aborigines, ami
their kei-nness of t)bservation Mid eoiis|)icuons lo\ <• ler
tlowers. and for open air lifi>, iiulieate an aptitude let'
deseriptiv(> and pastoi'al themes.

Now with peace assured, with the spread ol' educii-

TilK FUTlIiiK.

R80

tion tliroutifli rnpldly mMlti))ly'mL' srhooln nn<l i^oriod-
icals; aiul with growiiiij; iiiicrcoursc, especially t<>wHi<l
the cnt.eri)risiii;^ and eidijj;hteiUMl llnited States, a
vista ()])(>ns ho far uiio<|Maned. Tliousaiids liilheito
(hsti-acted by the iunnoils of war and atieiuhint
pohlical cliaiijjfc^s will turn to th(M'ultivatioii of letters,
under the iiiceulives of inherited taste and ItMsun^ and
t)f wideniniX iuUln for observation and expandinjjc
oj)|)oi'tnnitiea.

'('(iiiiMTiiint; Hie iiatimial lilirary, ^fl^.r., Arrh'm\ Vol. r.ri/., vi. 700-10,
ri'fi'rs to ii|>iiiiiiiliiu<nl, of regular oirK'«<r.s in ISOl, ami (.lie grant, «if iiiil. 'I'lui
l.iiLji'st ciillo'lidiin ill tlio (^iiiiiitry, of tlie iiiiivorsity, catluMlral, tlio funiicr
,l('siiit I'oUcgc, ami dtlioi-M, wcro al>»<irl)(<(l hy it, so tliat over l(H),()<K> voluiiiei
were eoimteii witiiin a lew years filler tlie forinatinii. Si»: Uli.r. f.'rn;/., Hal.,
seri(>ii., toiii. i., .'iri!). ('ov,irnil)iaM ill ISTT) eiuiiiierates 'JO |)nlili(! iilirarie.H,
wllli 'J!l(),('<*'> volumes, (if wliich three are at Mexico, liiitriii: I'lih. Hefereiii!0
III imlilie eoUeetions in <litl'ereiit states may Im louiid in tli<! Mi.i: l>iiir. O/ir.,
Nov. -JO, IS7(>, etc.: /iol,/iii ilr Xotl,:, Jan."'.', ISHI, etc.; /)i,irl> </>■ Arl.i., l\\>.
II, May (), It, I.SoT, witli ileerees; IViijffxii/i, Mix., I'JO I; /rh /■j'-]>"ii., i)ec.
•J, INK'.'; h\-<> \,ir., Jan. ll», Aug. 'AS, hS.".7, Aug. '2\ '2, IS.-.S; hUhimhirh' Sm:,
.1.111. li>, l.S,')7, etc.; I>ic(\ I'liir,, i. -x., passim, in coiiiieetioii mIiIi towns an. I
iMillcges; also in Pimniniviitn ^'iu\, l.n uVitrinn, Kl Tifinjxi, etc. 'riio cstali-
li linieiit ot reailiiig-rooms is spoken of in Mix. Mini., Sii\ hUlnil. (KS'JIl), .'lit -
10, anil later in .1 »;/;/<) ihi I'lirhto, Nejit. (t, LSI."). No circulating liliraries fop
I lie ]ico|ilo I'xist even now — none M'ortliy the name. Tlieir rcailing is uoitlinod
ihii lly to religious Imoks, Hayn Itiillocli, AiTus.i Mrx., '217.

■Ill IS7(5 Covarruliias, Inx/rHi: /'iililli-n, cnunierateil 7^ associations, of
wliicti '•!',( were scieiitilii', '2\ lit<'rary, '20 artistic, ami '\ mixed. For ilescrip-
liiiii of several provincial societies, 1 refer to Alliiiin, Mix, ii. I'l'J; l.'i <'niz, iii.
HIT; Diiirh ill' Arh., .\\\\\ 8, l.S.")7; Uii'ivvmI, Apr. I i, ami other dad's of
I^."i0; J/cc, 7>/((Wit <;/; .Ian. 18, Kelt. 7, 1871, etc.; Mix., i'ld. Lijii", \S\S,
-7t) I. (.'ainiieeho hoasled until lately the hest arch.eological ninsiMiin next
t.i Mexico. Four other states possess collections of a varied charai'ter. The
.\railcinia de Letrau counted among its founders the Lacun/asaml (1. I'ricto,
till' l.iceo Hid.algo oinhraced .). Navarro and (Jraiiailos M.ildonado. For
I'liciiing and associates of the Instituto, see liiitifii/n ilr ( Vcwc/a.i, l.i/i rn/iirn, y
Arliiy 1 4'J. ('onci-rniiig its struggles, .see Cinnjri'so, (\>iixHl. ill/ .I'/ins, IS I'.l;
Mrx., Cor. Fi'il., Mar. 'JO, l.S'J8; l\ip. Vm:, cxlii., jit x. An informal .(mi/ZAt
cxiitcd hufore the revolution, and \\w academies known as La Fiicarnaciou y
.^aii .lose, S. Felipe Neri, Troiicoso'a, and others.

•'The code contains a mass of decri'cs comeriiiug liberty of press and cog-
iiali- siihjects under almost every year of re]iulilican rule, and histories and
jiiinnals alioiind in comments thereon. A rcpuMican organ was estaMished
ill l.siJinOajaca. Ahnnni,, llisl. Mij.,'w. XtO; v. 401 (>,(»»'). Mix., I'm: riil.,
Hcc. ;{, IS'Jti, gives a list of contemporary journals. In l.'n-m Mix., i. 77, for
l>>ll, are enumeratod li> in the provinces and III at Mexico, the latter incliid-
'u\<x one French and several literary and satiric jieriodicals, lint only one d.iily
iii«sp;iper, luhla Ciililiroii, l/ij'i; IVJO. Fos.sey, J/cr., 'J88, gives i'l'J for IS.'iO,
lit which ten were issued at Mexico. Tlio censorship reduced the iiuinlicr
alter I.S.'iS. For 181)1, llernande/, EslniK Mij., 'J78, a]ipends a list of rili, of
"liii'li eight at Mexico, live in tho stato of (iuanajuato, four in Miehoacan,
t 'iir in /.acatecas, the other states having fnun one to three. }iy 1871
NIcxieo city alone had 19 of all classes. Aim., Lmn y Whitx, 1871, A'2-'M Pup.
I'"'-., cviii., pt i., ()1-H. Barhacliano, Mem. Coniy., (iO et net]., gives tho.so
tliut have llourishod in Yucatan; alto RijUtro Yuc, i. '2\Y.WI\ M'.i;»2xi«m, Mex.,

:,i :

690 LITERATURE OP MEXICO-NINETEENTH CENTURY.

120-1; Rklithofen, Mtx., 166-71; Ternaux-Compons, Nouv. Annalen ilrs Voi/.,
xciii. 49; Mex., Cor. Fed., Sept. 3(), 182«; Dim Aim rn Mex., 48-9, 84-5; '/,«
Cruz, iii. 607, etc. Uiiiwrml, Feb. 22, 1850, etc., exixwes the subsidies paid.

* Witli more care Li/anli, observes Beristain, 'pottia inerecer, si no I'l ndni-
bre (le Qimwdo AniericiDw, & lo iiienoa el tie Torrt'i Villaroel Mi-.riniiio.'
Bill. J/ixp. Am., ii. 191. Senator M. Bdrbachano ranks aa the leailiiig Hatir-
i-.t of Yucatan.

•''Rivera claims precedence for tlie mo.st bulky of local histories in IIMnrin
(!r Jiil'ijhi, in live volumes, M'hich cover the republic in general, however,
tli(iu){li imperfectly and unsymmetrically. Ba<iuciro's incomplete Enmiyo un
the later history of Yucatan is stamped by simdar defects.

"Carrillo is an entliusiiistic priest who has written much on the history
and relics of that country. The chief work of J. Arroniz, the well-known
f^eiicral writer, was iv history of Orimlni. The publications of the eeograpiii-
lal society embrace a most valuable series of such local material, largely of
statistical nature. Theditruscncss of both general and local liistones has
broufiht about many abritlgemcnts, as iust'inced in the cases of Bustamaiito
iind Alaman. Arrangoiz forma from the latter an introductory synopsis to
liii <nvu book. History of Mexican Revolutions is the virtual title of Moi-a,
Zorecero, and Zavala's works. The hrst added a 'Jhras Siiclta.'i, Paris ISI7,
wliich really forms a supplement to his history, with its reviews antl articles.
Zaviila issued the tirst journal in Yucatan.

*To Larrainzar, who figured as minister of state, is also due an acccjit-
able hi.story of Soconusco, and an imperfect essay on Mexican history-writing.
.1. M. do Biircena wrote an abridged history of ancient Mexico. Vigil lias
d;iiio gooil .service by the publication of many forgotten chronicles iiii.l
documents.

'Similar to Sosa's is a small volume by Arroniz, forming part of au iii-
cnmpleted descriptive scries known as Eiirirli ijif ilin Jluqh Aiiier. In tiic
Mexic;in supplement to Dice. Uiiir.. is similar material.

•"Munguia also wrote on jisychology and political science. The roligidin
Jfr(/iliiriiiii(n of Quiiitana, father of the famous patriot and writer Qiiiiitiiii
Roil, ]>assed through three editions. Rnstamante, among others, unilcrtdiik
au eiujrgetic defense of the .Jesuits. One of his earliest essays was in bcliali'
of the aristocratic shrine of Remedios. There are plenty of tracts and luicf
essays on these fields.

"Cortina was widely honored abroad. He resided for a long time in Spain
and represented her as minister. His Sinnniiiins received the comineiidatiuii
of tlie Spanish academy, and his mivnual for diplomats was widely acccpu il
a< a guide. Orozco y Berra acquired distinction for geodetic work, and ihm;
to the position of minister of public works, and to the supreme bench, but liy ;u-
cepting service under Maximilian he lost much of his mlluencc, and was even
liiietl and imprisoned for the misstep. Garcia Cubas is well known for l;is
maps, on which he was assisted by Covarrubias. The latter headed tlie .Nb\-
icaii astroinmiic expedition to Japan in 1874 ; later he went as minister tn
(iuateiuala. Biircena has had many plants named after him. J. P. Perez aiil
J. Ruz stand prominent in Y'ucatau for linguistic studies. 'J he books of tiia e!
by Zavala and (i. Prieto have achieved a representative character with tlieir
descrijitive and reflective passage"

''' Bishop Palafox had search made for novels, and they were either ImuL'lit
or seized and burned, religious books being substituted. ' Accion. . . . Imu
digna de que los denws la imiteu en toda la Christiandad,' commeuts Calif,
jilfiii. y Not., 40.

"C. Prieto frankly admits that 'no se bosquejan caractcres sino retractiK,'
CiutiUn, JlortiH, p. iv. In this edition of Castillo aj)pear El eerebro y el cnra-
zon, Hasta et cielo, and other pieces. Among Cuellar's works isLas(ieMtes
que son asi, in two volumes. Lizardi's satiric novels have been consiileroil
elsewhere.

'-Concerning government subsidies to theatres I refer to Mexiro, Mi muriit
dellackmla, IS^Tl, 118, etc ; Paym, CueiUajt, 719-20; A mljo del Pueblo, iv. 'JI-'J.

CHAPTER XVIII.

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

The advancing man discovurs how dc^ep a property Iio has in literature,
in all fablo as woU as in all history,

— Emernon.

The remarkable strides made by California in ma-
terial advancement are not unattended by a corres-
ponding intellectual development, though the lattjr
lias in it more of the practical than of the {esthetic.
While yet too young to boast of a literature wholly
]i(T own, she has achieved prominence in the field of
letters by the number and variety as well as quality
of books emanating from her midst. Just what pro-
p )rtion of these writings properly belong hero is a
(juestion, for our leading authors were none of them
I) )rn, or to any great extent educated, on the Pacific
coast; nevertheless, there are present the condi-
tions of development which have contributed essen-
tially, if not wholly, hi producing certain results.

Environment moulds the mind for opportunity'; botli
of these all-important factors were here i)rovided.
The one acted imperceptil)ly, the other by waiting.
I^lsewhere scenery exists equally inspiring; indeed, it
is not wisdom to dwell too much on the influence of
S!iow-crowned sierras, Yosemite pictures, stately for-
ests with towering sequoias, puffing geysers, and a
1 uid overflowing with industry and wealth. Temper-
ate air, with pleasant and healthy surroundings, is
more conducive to every kind of culture than the
miasmatic tropics or hyperborean rigors. Our climate
is that of Italy freed from its impurities, and reen-
forced with a bracing, quickening current, which pro-

(5911

B92

EAllLY CALIFORNIA IJTERATimR

motes energy of body and mind. There is, as a rule,
no depre.ssiii!^ cold, no enervating heat to retard the
machinery <)t' Ufo; on the other hand, there is cvery-
tiiin;.'" to foster activity, as evidenced in the husth; that
surrounds us. There is exhilaration in the air, and iu
tiie unfolding of countless resources in every direction,
following quickly U[)on one another since the all-con i-
polling discovery of gold. The excitement of constant
disclosures, of ever-changing phases of fortune, lias
imi)artL!d a buoyancy, partaking frequently of fcvir-
ishness, that might be regarded with apprehension
but for the sustaining qualities of the soil and air.

While these features iniiuence literary life, it cannot
bo said that they are particularly creative, for no in-
digenous civilization sprang here into being, or found
even a halting-place in this latitude. The superficial,
vivacious Mexican brou<j;ht no mental elements to Ik;
develojied, but inclined rather toward sports, local
turmoil, and patriarchal si?nplicit3^ Intellectual dc-
volopnient came from the east, brouglit by adventur-
ous, enter[)rising men with liberal ideas. Every
element for the formation of a most progressive com-
monwealth was thus all at once introduced. The
traits of a dozen nationalities served to modify and
improve the predoiiinating American mind. TIk y
were full-fledged jjioneers, and as such their efforts,
physical or mental, might be claimed for their res])c(-
tive natal states; but without the stinmlus here im-
parted their energies would have taken a very dill'eri'nt
direction, or, indeed, have lain dormant. These ail-
ventures, and the attendant opportunity, proved tlic
cradle for productions stamped by those same agencies
as distinctly Californian.

Consider well the inspiring eflPect upon the mind of
the physical surroundings, earth, air, and sky, after a
tedious trip across the plains, or a long, monritonous
voyage by sea; and above all, of the new social con-
ditions, of peculiar life, strange happenings, and ext ii-
ing jiursuitd, restless activity, and great achievenientii

UNDER MEXICAN RULE.

BOS

ill developing character, and producing physical and
mental exuberance.

Letters poured eastward to friends and journals,
revealing in their gra[)hic narration the development
of the new era. Local periodicals displayed their
side of the picture, and occasionally enthusiasts tore
themselves away from all-absorbing business and en-
ervating excesses to elaborat*^ their impressions in
books, for which the universal interest in the country
provided a popular reception. Nor were these pro-
ductions few when compared with those of other
states. Indeed, more volumes were written in Cali-
fornia within the quarter century following 1849 than
ill all the other states and territories west of the Mis-
sissippi. They number nearly two hundred, some of
which sought a wider publishing field in eastern
centres.

These progressional phenomena are in striking con-
trast to the condition of mind in colonial times.
During the period of Mexican rule, from 1769 to 1846,
not a single literary effort appears worthy of note, and
what was written consists almost wholly of letters
and reports by officials, friars, and a few leading resi-
dents, which have swollen in course of time to a vcl-
uminous mass, as indicated by a series of shelves in
my library. They relate to the growth of the colony,
to local disturbances, and even to petty revolutions;
while rare foreign visits evoked a flood of details pro-
portionate to the fears, jealousies, and excitement
created. They are pervaded by the tone of bustling
ofHciousness, from men intent on asserting their im-
portance, and their pomposity becomes amusing when
compared with the insignificant jurisdiction and inter-
ests concerned. The friars treat of the economic and
spiritual administration of their charge, varied by
disputes with the military commanders. Their com-
munications breathe the self-sacrificing spirit of super-
stitious men who have voluntarily exiled themselves
for the fancied cause of duty and humanity.

I : '

EijijAYS AND Miscellany 88

KARIA' CAMFORMA I.ITKRATURI?.

Tho stvlo roinpiuvs favonihly with Hiiuilar (Mimim-
tioMS ill \Irxiro; Itut on (hr \vli«»lr it lias less ot' (hat
lloridity aiul inllation which. howoviT uiuU'sirahlc, in
(hratt'rt a hoiit tor writiiujf. It would hvvim as if I he
ini<j;i'atit)ii from thr plciisaiit Hloprs ami hif^hlaiuls nf
Aiiilhimc to tho wild honlcr had dcprcststMl any as|ii-
ratioii of tho fancy to \\iv Icvi'l of the iMun«<diati' sui
roundinufa. Tho lack «>f cducatit)nal facilities oi>cral(ii
n^jjainst a dovcloptncnt t)f tastt? «)n the part of tlu' lis-
in;jj ujiMicration; yt't tho nature of tho lanjjfuai^c, jukI
tho puui^tilious chai-actcr of tho people, ronipensali d
for a disadvantaije that among our raco would Iiavr
loft a more j^l'iriuii; <l(>rici(Micy ; for tho lower classes
of Hispano-Americans display a romarkahlo i'ontct-
n(»ss and fluoncy of expression. The j^c'nin'al punctili-
ousness has led to that formal and forensic phras(>olo;j:y
HO charactoriatic <»f Mexican epistolary and narriitivi'
productions, and so conducive to loose and involvid
constrm'tiou, which siTvt's as additional hindrance
to h(\iuty and inten^st. Nevertludi'ss, tho nalinal
sj)rijj;htliness will find an outlet, oven amid the cx.il,'-
i^oratod account of dangers and isolation on the dis-
tant frontier, ]m>mptod by tho forlorn condition or
longings of tho exile.

Several of tho above writings have aeon tlu^ li^Iit
in government docunuMits, journals, ami collect ions,
but oidy a few within tho covers of a special hook.
The earliest prodm'tion of this kind, ]>repared witliiii
tho territory and by a resident, is tho lxrl<u'i<t)i ///">•
toriiu <tv lo. Mild of .Funiporo Serra, founder of the
inissi(i:i:-i. by his companion and succes8t>r, Fraiuisto
Palou, printed at Mexico in 1787. Although a hiou^-
raphy of tho pious labors of an examplary friar, it
aims to give the history of California to I7SM; ;ui(l
to this end tho rhapsodies and prolix dissertations so
common in such works are almost entirely disjxustd
with. While dis]>osed to affirm tho merits of his li.io
and his order, Palou displays much good sense in tho
treatment of the subject, without rising to any maiked

UNDI.M MEXICAN UULK.

:.<•:•

cxccllcMoy ill liiH iJitluT prosaic iiarmtivo. Tho suiiic
;;iuUM(l is cuvt'i't'd with •^'niitiT coinidctciH'ss, iiltli<m^li
less «l)ilMnati(»ii, ill liis Aolirliis, tlir Hv»ui"i'cH lor tin'
riiiinrr work, tlic |>iil»licjitioii of wliicli i.uiUu that of
the other h'ss lu-cdful Jit tlic tiiiic.

'I'hf I'ouiitrv <li<l iioi possess u press until \H'\'\; iwul
ef lis |)i'o(Un-tioiis, h'ss tiiaii three seor<' in all, seven
jiltained to the respeetahility of hook form. 1'here
were the liiijldiuitiln iVnrii'ioiKtl, I S.'M, 10 pajij;es. riih'sfor
t lie legislature; M<uiljui<h>, l>y( Governor l^'ii^ueroji, IS.'J;'),
is;{ passes; Cttln'/smo <!<■ (>ii(>ln(/l(i, \ty ,). M. Ivoinero,
is;!f», M) paj^'es; /',V'.s'y;or/,sv"o//, hy ( 'onian<l!int('-t;eiieral
\ aMeji>, IHI57, -1 I'Ji^es, su_i^!L;'('stioiis eoneerniii'^ ti'ade
iim! eustoni-house; llofint (/ciicrnl dc lo.'i linn<<li(>s, IH'.\H,
I (! paijjes, i-epi-int of a (^iidiz inecheinai paniphh-t;
('iih'Jni'nid, ('(nii(i)Klaiin'ii (icncral, ('oiiinuicticiinux (hi
(Ini'nutlM. (1. Vullcjn, IH.'i; i>, 2 1 pp., !i collection «.f
decrees. The last is a, sni'dl 4to, tl:e others vary fi'oni
I Jnio to H'Jnio. '^I'li(> ini]>rint of the first three hooks is
Monterey, the followinn are dated at Sonoma. Later
tlie press was restored to IMonteny, as indi<'ated hy
llic (\if(ristiio (Ir hi thxin'iKt, hy llipalda, 184'J, Timo, H
I'.i^cs. In most cases theothei' printin<jj was poor and de-
void of tast(\ the type heinu^ wornand the pi('sswar|)ed.
Tlie oidv volunu! of any nretensioji is the Mdii/'lirslt)

-f (

lovernor .lost

Fi.ir

rui^roa m uertMic(> o

Ief(

.f 1

IIS admin-

istration from ]HlV2 to IS.'?."), particularly in regard to
liis attitude towai-d tlii! colonization project of llijar
ini<l I'atires; y»'t it does not rise ahovi> thi' usual style
el" sucli political documents ainonij; Mexicans. ]^e-
siiles the ('<fUvis)iin of llipalda repi'inted here, the
tViars circulated a numher of catechism-' and sermons
ill nianuscrints, which tlie\' had translated into dilFcT-
(lit native dialects. In this connection wcrv ])roduce<l
seviM'al vocahularies and ijjrammars, two of which, hy
pndres Arroyo do la Cuesta and Sitjar, form part of

lea. s CO

llocti

(m.

Zulvadea left several translations, and President

i I

ill

596

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATLTIE.

Jill

Sarria some impressive sermons, in autograph. Friar
Boscana prepared an account of the customs and
myths of the Indians round San Juan Capistraiic,
whicli was translated into EngUsh, and printed :it
New York in 1846, under the title of Clmrigchhildi.
While condemning the superstitions of the natives, tin-
friar himself displays a prejudice and leaning hardiv
less excusable; but he strives for truth and scrks
naively to explain every peculiarity. The work was
issued as a part of Life in Califomia, by Alfred liob-
inson, a citizen of the United States, who had f(ir
several years been established here as a trader. His
proposed introduction to the CliliiificJihiich gradually
I'xpanded into a volume of over 200 pages, hi wliicli
from personal expfirience he describes places and peo-
ple, scenery, resources, and customs, together with an
interesting outline of history. Ai)pearing at tlio
time the conquest of the country was undertaken by
the United States, the book created no small atten-
tion, and tills was sustained by the attractive nature
and treatment of the subject. A ready appreciation
of salient and interesting topics is apparent, tempered
by a generous and good-natured spirit, wliich led to
rose-colored statements in favor of his California
friends."

With the occupation by Americans, it was not Ion*;
before the characteristic newspap(,'r presented itself,
beginning at ]\ronterey on August 15, 184fi, with tie
(\ilifor)iia}>, under the auspices of Walter Colton.
clinplain of the Un.ited States frigate Coiigresii, iwA
llobert Semple. It was not an imposing specimen in
its foolscap size, printed on rough paper with worn
and deficient type, and with the rickety California
press of 1833, now rescued from a garret; but it wiis
pregnant with the patriotic aspirations of the conquer-
ors, although extremely subservient to the milit.iry
authorities. On January 9th following, another weekly
paper, the California fitarwas, issued at San Francisco

THE FIRST AMERICAN DECADE.

597

.*•*

l)y the Mormon, Sam Brannan, assisted by E. P.
Joiics, as editor.' It was larger and neater than the
rival sheet, but reflecting only too frequently the
sliarp, coarse traits of the provincial lawyer and dog-
matic leader, as compared with the fairer and gentler
s[)irit of Semple and Colton.*

The two papers were consolidated after the suspen-
sion caused by the excitement attending the gold dis-
covery, and merged, on January 4, 184i), into tlie
jl'ta (kilifomia. Four months later an oftshoot ap-
jM'ared at Sacramento in the Placer Times; after this
sheets began to nmltiply rapidly in towns and mining
camps, as elsewhere fully related. Every party, class,
and nationality sought to be represented. The French
iiKulo several attem[)ts toestablisli organs, tlie first in
January 1850. The Spanish residents were courted
liy the Gallic journals, but obtained a special sheet in
L834, while the Germans had one two years earlier.
In September 1850 the Illustrated Times made a vain
liid for ftivor with cuts, and the early humorous and
i^atiric sheets, beiximiing in 1851 with the Ilombre,
f.ucd no better. Religious denominations strove to
jiromote their efforts with the press, tlie Christian Ob-
.^rrrcr of the same year being first in the field. The
Academy of Sciences began its reports hi 1853, the
Agricultural Society in the following year; doctors
issued a journal in 1855, and so publications increased.
Journalistic • ntorprlse in California isconnnc^nsurate
with the plicm .iienal rise of the country. Xo state
ill tlie unioii can sliow so large an average of news-
I'apcr circulation among its inhabitants. Even New
York was f )r years surpassed, and the average tliere
amounted to nearly treble that of the other states.
Ill this by no moans unenviable respect, California
coiis(!(|uently stood foremost in tlie world. There has
iilsi) existed a more than ordinary intimacy between
tlu' press and the public in the interchange both of
iiifonnation and opinions. Moreover, the number of
j'ti'.sons engaged on nows])a[K;r3 has been extraordi-

irt

59S

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

narily large, over one thousand figuring iu tlil^ coii-
noctiou iu Sau Francisco during the ten years ending
in 1858. During its earher period such a press must
have been very partisan in character, the medium df
chques, rather than of tlio pubHc, organ instead of
mentor, rising and falhng with parties and interests,
fluctuating like its fickle sup[)orters. The journals of
the eastern states maintained a large share of patron-
age till tlie telegraph drove tliem back; railroads ef-
fected local revolutions of equal importance.

It may bo readily understood that this instability
has not tended to establish a high character for hon-
esty, learning, or originality among the ioui 'u/ists.
They have not been chosen from the fitter.! rai. "ir
that matter, but from all grades of society, ana die
result is evident in the material tliey furnish, chiefly
made to fill space, and to serve some personal end or
prejudice, and framed in language by no means of tin?
choicest, displaying numerous errors in grammar, many
Americanisms, and nmcli vulgar slang. In tlu'so
respects it may not be below the average througliout
America, which compares ratlier unfavorably witli tlie
European, but tlie taste for tiio sensational adds a
fiviture to the many undesirable elements in tlii-;
medium for popular education and guidance. It ini)>t
be conceded, however, that California is not devoiil of
journals and newspaper productions of a hi;jli( i'
oa*der, and bright with promise.

Among prominent editors may be named Cilhc.t
and Kemble, who established the A\Ui, the fornui',
the first elected congressman for California, l)ein;4 '\
high-mhuled though foolish fellow, who fell in a <lii 1
f(.f his ])rinciples; Soule and Nesbit, associated on
tlie first history of San Francisco; the versatile N'oali
Brooks; Avery, sometime minister to China; Johu
S. Hittell, the well-knoW): statistical writer; tlie pun-
ijent Frank Pixloy; George, the author of I^rn'in^
(Did Povcrtij; Gorhain, Bartlett, G. K. Fitch, Si .
bouLjh, George H. Fitch and John P. Young of the

if;'

THE FIRST AMERICAN DECADE.

599

Chronicle, T. T, Williams of the Post, Jerome A. Hart
of the Argonaut, John P. Irish of the Alia, and S. C.
Carrington of the Sacrainoiito Record- Union. On this
last journal was once George Frederic Parsons, later
literary editor of the New York IVibune, and one of
the ablest writers in Ajnerica.

In early times purely literary efforts did not receive
adequate su[)port, owing to the unsettled condition of
society. Later the wider range and superior charac-
ter of eastern periodicals attracted too niucli of [)ul)lic
attention, and humorous, satirical, and critical journals
can alone be said to have flourished. The best early
paper of this latter class was the lion-ton Critic, issued
in Marcli 1854, and the latest is the Arejoncmt. Never-
tlicless, there have been repeated attempts to establish
literary publications. The first, the weekly Golden Era,
dated from December 1852 ; but its pages contained a
largo pro[)ortion of newspaper matter, and were suited
rather for the taste of the less exacting portions of the
rural and mining [)opulation. Of similar papers none
have equalled it in poi)ularity. The first monthly issue
of a higher order was the Pioneer, publislied in January
1854, and continuing for two years. The c^ditor was
F. C Ewer, later well-known on the Atlantic side as
a high-church episcopalian clergyman. The articles
consisted chiefly of semi-historical and descriptive
pieces, interspersed with more poems than tales or
novelettes, and closing with a review of events, soci-
ety, arts, and sciences, somewhat too staid, perhaps,
f >r the period.

James M. Hutchinnrg fancied that he understood
tlic public tf;ste better, and in his California Matjuziiif,
begun in July 1850, he introduced a larger portion of
light matter, with s[)ecial atttMition to humt)rous
sk(>tel;es. The size was somewhat reduced, and the
editor's department cut down, but the [)ages received
instead the addition of wood-cuts, of a mediocre and
at times decidedly trashy stamp, like much of the
tux.t, It existed for five years, improving somewhat

» ri

600

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

toward the close in tone. It might have lived longer
hut for the rivalry of The Jlesperian, started in May
1858, as a seuii- monthly journal of literature and art,
and consisting largely of items. Mrs F. H. Day, who
soon took sole charge, converted this with the secoucl
volume into a monthly maga/ine, of a higher order
than the preceding, with a juvenile department, with
more reflective and instructive articles, and witli a
few excellent illustrations. It changed in 18G3 to
The Pac'JiG Monthly, under less firm editorship, and died
not long afterward. The contcanporary California
"^Iniazim, with its predominance of novels and fas]iit)ii
IS, appealed to the fair sex. The California J/o/o/-
tau^eer, begun at Tuolumne in 1861 by H. S. Brooks,
adopted some features of the early Ha^perlan, and a
number of less notable magazines sprang up at inter-
vals to seek a share of favor.*

Finally, in 18G8, appeared the Overland Monthnj,
the hightost of its class, and started under the editor-
ship of Bret Harte, who was then rising into fume.
His contributions to it, during a period of two years
and a half, were indeed a main feature, and gave no
small impulse to the circulation, besides bringing tlie
writer into that notice v lich later drew him to wider
fields in the eastern states and Europe. A mass (»f
slumbering talent was awakened by this medium, and
their scattered offerings in prose and verse have since
in several instances, reappeared in special books.
Harte's pieces formed an important feature of tlm e
large volumes, and so with Coolbrith, W. C. Bartlett,
Avery, J. Miller, Clarence King, Stoddard, Clitl'ord,
Cremony, Scammon, Victor, and others, who shall l)e
noticed in due course. Bartlett assumed, temporarily,
the editorial chair, until Avery accepted it. After
his departure as minister to Cliina, the magazine de-
clined and was suspended in December, 1875. The
original publisher, A. Roman, revived it in Januaiy
1880, under the title of the Californian, which tliree
years later merged into the Overland MunOdy a;j,ain,

THE FIRST AMERICAN DECADE.

001

called the second series. It has ever adhered to the
])roclaiined mission of "developing the country," by
devoting a proportionately large space to instructive
and tlescriptive articles concerning the coast. These,
indeed, form its best material, and next ranks the
poetry, which, despite its doubtful admixture is de-
cidedly superior to the average fiction. Its influence,
like tliat of the preceding magazines, has been less
marked in directing i)ublic taste, over which the
newsi)apers and tlio eastern ])eriodicals exercise
greater control; l>ut it has rendered good service in
fosterino local talent, and in bringing new writo's into
notice, e\ on beyond our borders.

No country has probably roused so sudden, wide-
spread, and intense an interest as did California, wiien
rc'[)()rts of her gold-beds Hashed throughout the world.
The discovery of Columbus did not attract half the
attention, and the invasions of the Tartar and Cres-
cent hordes failed to create the same excitement, even
in Europe, partly because news travelled slowly in
those days, and overspread the world so gradually as
ti> lose its efVect. What scenes, what incidents, what
budding fancies are not associated with this last great
liegira and its halt at this earth's end 1 Books innu-
iiitrable have alluded to, or dwelled at length on,
tliiise romantic j)hases ; and not a periodical out of
the thousands existing but has added to the halo sur--
rounding the namo of California.

Hut the most valuable of all material for the history
of California lies in the tliousand manuscrii)t dicta-
tions and experience of tliose who helped to make tlie
history of the country, and whicli I have been accu-
mulating during the last quarter of a century. ^Fany
of the early settlers wrote or dictated matter whicli
swelled into ponderous works, sometimes of four and
five volumes, and covering all subjects, frt»in sober
liistorv to romantic tales, from reviews of natural
tcatures and industrial resources to social types and

602

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

amenities. Some, like Salvador, the Indian fi^litfr,
and Amador, a name commemorated in that of a
country, tell their story in the blunt stylo of the
mountaineer and soldier; others, like Vicente (^omc/,,
rely on ptuntcd anecdotes and racy humor ; still
others, like Torres, Jaussens, Hijar, Arce, and Fer-
nandez, are intent on certain episodes ; Botello aiul
Coronel on formality of style, at the expense of
freshness and vigor ; while a large number saorificL-
essential elements of history to the feeling of import-
ance which i)ervades mem in being called upon to es-
timate men and events. They are, above all, im-
pressed with a desire to perpetuate their own
achievements, to glorify the Cfp and proceed witli
their narrative, as if truth were an incidental ratlicr
than i)rimary requirement. While prolix and full of
details, they care little for exactness, and geiural
ideas and plans are lost sight, of in the aim to apjily a
certain colonng, and to create effect. Scqumcc
and com[)letoness are so little regarded as to stamp
most elforts as unsatisfactory and fragmentary. The
humorous is not neglected, however, and the narra-
tives are frequently enlivened with some bright sally
i.r good story. But for all this, as I have said, used
with proper care and discrimination, they constitute
the very foundation of California history.

Governor Pio Pico may be regarded as the repre-
sentative of a class, in his disjohited and contradictory
volume. Manuel Castro is more connected and tku nt
and clear, but unscrupulous in his skillfully wovdi
tissues. Oslo, on the other hand, is swayed by pi'«ju-
dices, despite himself. He is also uneven in treat-
ment and stylo, beginning his character sketches and
scenes with animation, and evincino; considerable apti-
tude as he proceeds, only to digress and leave t.u m
unfinished, or even to contradict liiuiself on latir
pages. In the same maimer pleasingly told paragraphs
are frequi'ntly broken by crude ancl puerile phrases,
This caprice is greatly due to the infirmity of age, as

^[ANUSCRI^T DICTATIONS.

603

revealed in garrulous details. Governor Alvarado is
))()sitive, rather than prejudiced, and supplies a vast
amount of information, marked by a clear judgment.
J^andini conveys his loss valuable memoirs under a
[iretentious title, and regards them evidently as ad-
niiral)le ; yet he disclaims any attempt at writing
liistory, or any striving r>r elegance and method, and
tliis declaration he certainlv adheres to. Far more
accei)table are Botello's records, and still more .so the
imposing tomes of (General Vallejo, a man indiued
with enthusiastic regard for the history of his country,
as well as for his contributions to it. This zeal leads
hiin often to exaggerate, but the reader cannot fail to
1)0 impressed by his sincerity and striving for truth,
and readily overlooks an all-pervading pom[)ousiiess,
which for that matter accords not ill witli his services
and prestige. He cond)ines strong descrii)tive power
with duo ai)prcciation for fitn(>ss. Notwithstanding
tlio several peculiarities of the Latin race, where the
evidence is so full the truth can always 1)0 reached.
Side by side with the re'^ollections of Hispano-Cal-
ifornians, which apply chietly to Mexican times, I
liave arranged on mv library shelves those of Ameri-
(•ail and other pioneers, which are even more numer-
ous, and relate to the journey out, to the con(|ue.st i)y
the United States, to the gold di.scovery, and to the
subsequent develo[>ment. They are more matter of
fact and exact, but while questions are consi(kn'ed
with due regard to their importance, the style savors
too frequently of the free-and-easy intercourse of
I arlv (lavs, and compares unfavorably with the more
dignilied tone and choicer diction of the ]\Iexieans.
This inferiority i)elongs only to a class, however; for
th(} rest, headed by sucli men as Senator Gwin and
generals Sutter and Bidwell, exhibit admirable fea-
tares in treatment and language.

The influx of gold-seekers i<;norant of the country,
Its resources, and the methods in vogue, led to the

'v<m

604

EAULY CALIKOUXIA LITKUATUUR

ciirly publiciiiion of hooks for tlu'ir ^uiclanco, aiuoiiii;
the iirst of tlio kiiul heiiiLif ('iilifoniin as it /.s\ (iinl as //
'111(11/ he, Sail Franci.sro, IS41>, Hvo, 7(5 pai^cs. \>\- I-'.
J*. WiiTzUicki, a l\)lc, wIk) is said to liavc made a con-
Hi(li'ral)l(> sum of money by its saii\ .loliii .). W'orlli
followed with A I)iss(rt(itii>)i oti llir HiSdinrcs, lieiiicia.
1851; and then came (-ranein 1805, Jiushnell, \)r
(iroot, Truman, Menefec, Hutehinsjjs, and a host ot
more or less special treatises, some referi'iiiLj only to
certain counties or districts. A larger numher would
no douht luive heen issued in early years had not tlic
eastern states and Kuro|)(i anticipated the moveimnt
l»y a Hood of hooks and pamphlets, some prepai'cd hv
roturned miners, others compiled from dilfeieiit
sourct's. Their incompleteness and misstatements in-
duced John S. llittell in IHCtl) to issue T/ic Hcsdiii-ctx
(>/ ra///hn/m, which s[)eedily passed through several
editions, one of which attained a local ])rize, oH't red
for a hook of this charactc r, ])repari'd wholly from
material which might he ohtained within the stah'.
Its success led to the puhlication in I^OS of T/ic Aat-
•ural WcaUJi. of Calif ornia, and laterof the CnuiiiH'nr (iinl
LidnHtricfi of the Paci'llr Coast, the most comprehensi\ t
niul exhaustive work on the country. I^oih are cin-
hellished with cuts and conij)lemonte(l hy historic and
geographic sketches, yet not suflicicMitly digested
ami elahorated. Both of these h>ading works were
issued under my auspices. In Tfie (ioldni State, hy li.
Gu\' McClellan, there are sketches of the other
J\icific states. I. I. Powvll ])rovi(les a similar
work on Nevada, whose silver mines liad heen calliii-;
universal attention to this region. Mrs Victors
works on Oregon and Washin'jjtoii excel in a descrin-
tivo \io\v and sprightly tone that impart a parti<'ular
charm. To this class may l)o added directories, which
embody umch historic and statistical matter, and give
testimony of the progress made by p()i)ulation and
industries. The first was issued at San Francisco in
Se[)tembor 1850 by Charles V. Kimball.'

EFFECT OF (iOLD.

605

For sc^vcral ycarH after the <;()kl excitement cverv-
tliiiii; coiiccniiniij California was road witli avi(lit\ ,
partly intorwovoii in novels, partly in t'(jually alluriii;^
narratives of travel and life, basi-d on personal e\-
peiii'iu'es, njoi'u or k;.ss colored, and duo cliielly to tlie
pens of eye-witnosfses, such as K. (^ould iJufluni.
prominent in the stati; since IH47 as lii'uteiiant of
Steviiuson's volunteers, as mend)cr of tlie K'iiislature,
and journalist. lie »'onmiitte<l suicide at J'aris in
ISOS, leaviiijj; the manusci'ipt for Li<jld>i and >'<<ii.s(ih'<)')is
ill. France to he [)rinted hy a hi-other. His >S'/j* Moiillifi
ill the (I'ohl Miiie.^ is tiisjointed, hoth in j)lan and style,
uiidt>r the pnsssure «tf a huriied puhlic;vtion. It was
issued in 1850 at Philadel[)hia, as the hetter market;
l»ut similar narratives heujan to apjx-ar within the
country, at first in newsjtaper colunms, and o|-adually
ill hook form, anions^ tlu! first heiii":^ (.'arson's Karhj
h'rrolk'clliDif!, HU)('\iU>i\, fM;V2, which is even less fin-
ished than the preceding, and intended chiefly for an
riiiigrant guide.

77/6' Cal/Joriiia nh/rini, hy J. A. Benton, ])rinted at
Sacramento in JSr)t5, is an end)odimt;nt of scenes wit-
nessed and characters encountered in towns, camps,
and country, hut descrihed as seen hy the writiT in a
<heam, and in imitation of J^unyan's treatment and
style, yet with an admixtui'e of ordinary dialogue on
cvery-day to})ics, political and social, an<l with moral
reflections at tin; end of the chapters, licre called lec-
tures, for as such they had heen originally delivered.
In tlie same year Delano hegan the Jj/J'e on flic Plains
and other sketciies, which have procured for liim a
place among the humorists. With the estahlishment
in t854 of the monthly magazine, narratives of this
kind received a more appropriate repository, and ac-
cordinijlv ureater elahoration than those destined for
mere news[)apers. In the Pioneer is a long serial
piece, ('alifo'niia in icS';'/, hy Shirley, running througli
its four volumes, and remarkahle for this tinu; it Ix'ing
from the i)en of a woman. It is in ei)istolary form,

■m

■1

:l:''i

606

EARLY CALIFORXIA UTERATURE.

Hliowinn; aculturt'd iniiid and fcininiiio gr pe, yet with
some cliaractfristic detects in [)rt)lixity and trivialities.
Another resident female, Mrs Farnliain, prt'[)ar('d
about the same time a more t'<»rnial and ^jfosaic ac-
count, full of valuable information, but also witli an
excessive intrusion of her })rivate troubles, colored in-
religious thoughts. It was published at New York
in 1850, as the first book written by her sex in and
on the country. The Captivitij of the Oatmau Girls
may also be regarded as a woman's narrative, al-
thougli edited by a man, R. 13. Stratton, also a nsi-
dent Californian. In a preface to the second edition
he seeks to remove tlie doubts cast upon his literary
taste for indulging in florid and melodramatic stylo.
The latter served well with the readers of such mit-
ter to convey a harrowing effect, and so rapidly did
the two California editions of 1857 S(!ll thattlic book
was in 18.")8 issmd at New York. A favorable con-
trast is presented in the natural and a[)propriate tono
o^ The Advoif arcs of James Capoi Adam."^, San Fran-
cisco, 1860, wherein Theodore Hittell relates tlie life
of a mountaineer and bear hunter.

The publication in San Francisco in 1857 o^Travch
on the Western Slope of the We^^tern Cordillera nmst bo
attributed rather to the closer interest which S.in
Francisco was supposed to take in the resources .-mil
features of this region ; yet it indicates a remarkable
confidence in the bent for readin<j: amoii'j: Californians,
tlic more so since the information is imparted in a series
of short and prosy letters. Ijcss pretentious in size,
but more attractively written, is Stewart's I^mt of fl,e
Filihmsfers, Sacramento, 1857, relating to Walk(>r's
Nicaragua expedition. To these new fields for tho
pen was added another in Seve)i Years' Street French in fj
in San Frandsc/), by Reverend William Taylor, pub-
lished the same year, but in New York. It was not
likely to engage the attention of the rollicking people
on this coast, for the book treats almost exclusively of
religious efforts in dens and alleys among the ruder

SECOND DECADE.

0'j7

(lassos, and with a mouotoiKms sainoness of both siib-
joct and language. His Cah'/oniia Llji\ published
two years later, is nioro varied, and gives an instrue-
tivo aceount of society and development. Numerous
illustrations have been added, altliough some of
them hardly accord with the predominating religious
strain. About the same time appeared a number of
minor publications bearing on the vigilance movements,
notably McGowan's Narrative, which relates his })er-
secution by the popular tribunal and his escapes, to-
gether with a defence of his career as a politician.

Such is the outline of a characteristic class of books
presented to the public during the first decade. The
same range of subjects continues to attract writers,
l)ut while pioneers still cling to the golden dreams of
early days, others follow the i)rogressive phases
around them, in stvlo as well as theme. Lack of due
care and elaboration still mark tlicir eiforts; neverthe-
less, there is a manifest improvement, due no less to
11 10 emulative example of jiromincnt eastern competi-
tors than to the refining influence of a society now
a[)proaching the normal family proportion, and to
ready intercourse with other countries.

A striking feature is the predilection for liumor,
roflocting the boisterous times of 1849, and tlio conviv-
ialities of a community consisting almost entirely of
Ixichelors, with the varied aspects of a cosmo-
politan people. Another trait is the love for
scenery, indirectly strengthened no doubt during
the toilsome march over plains, ranges, and deserts,
or the irksome voyage by soa. The monotony of
t];o route, heightened by the dullness an.l hardship,
caused the newly found country to be invested by the
Weary wanderer with exceeding fairness, a picture
gilded in course of time by bright memories. The
newcomers hailed, besides, from a ruder clime, in com-
parison with which the present seemed a perennial
si)ring, an Arcadia festooiKMl with vines, and shaded
by cypress and fig-trees, varied by snow-tippetl peaks

ill

\
I

COS

KARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

and mighty canons, with spouting geysers and stately
trees, witli cloud-enbosomed lakes and winding cav-
erns.

It is impossible not to feel the influence of scenery
so grand and beautiful, and Californians may well he
pardoned for dwelling with fondness upon it. Tin v
display their admiration not alone in books, but in the
enjoyment of nature by summer sauntorings and camp-
ing e.Kpetlitions. The numerous descriptions given in
periodicals, guide-books, and more pretentious works
are a fair record of wide experience. Foremost
among such sketches must be placed Clarence King's
Mnmdalneerinf) in the Sierra Nevada, written originally
for a California magazine amid tlie scenes de])ict( d.
and by one who has long been connected with the
country. Lofty summits and rugged cliffs attract liini
most, with mantling glaciers in their encroachments on
border vegetation. His spirit rcspon'^'s to the inspir-
ing vistas that unfold on every side t the circliiin;
shades of forests to grccn-clad slope 1 into peace-

ful dales half shrouded in misty blue, and his descri})-
tion comes forth in the same variegated colors of
language, mingled with thrilling accounts of adven-
tures, vivid j)()rtrayals of character, romantic episodes,
and touches of quaint humor. Popular appreciation
is shown by the issue, in 1882, of a sixth edition. His
contributions to the reports of the geological survey
of California have earned for him an enviable reputa-
tion. The picturesque is generally aftccted, and fre-
quently attained, in such books as Truman 's/SV»''-/w])^((//
California and Occidental Sketches, Turrill's California
Notes, Powell's Wonders, Avery's California Pictims,
and a host of others, aiming to instruct the immigrant
or guide the visitor. The style of Avery, for a time
editor of the Overland, and later minister to China, is
fluent and harmonious, but there is a tiresome same-
ness of scenes and a marked subordination of topic to
diction.

SECON'I) DECADE.

Sociotvajul iiistitutioiiH oil tl i is romoto ocean border
sjUJiiii;- u|> a.s it well' in a day, with their stian!j;e eoiii-
iiiiii^liii;^' of raees, «»f th'eaiiiy indoleiiee and .stupendous
stl•ivill;^^ of ;4htteriiii^ac(juisition and reckless [a-odi^ali-
tv these topics funiisli cver-alluriiiiif sources for pen
and eye, as instanced in the sketclu^s of .1 l<( i'ulifornia
by Evans. With keen observation aiul (juick apprecia-
tion of tlie beautiful, the useful, and the droll, ho
seized u[)onall salient features of scenery, develo|)nient,
and characteras tlu^y passed before him durin*.; a series
of trips throui^h the country, and fixed the pictures
with fresh and })leasin^ touches, addinjjf now sonu> ex-
cellent des('ri[)tivi; bit, now some luilicrous trait or
racy anecdote. If they lack finish and symmetry,
tliey are at least interesting in subject, and s})arkling
in treatment.

The book was published at San Francisco in 1H73,
after his sad eiul on the Atlantic, while on the wav' to
^ffxico. He had visited that country in 1809-70
with Seward's party, and left a record of his observa-
tions in Oar H'n^frr Iic/tiihllc, Hartford, IH70, of ths
same tyi)e as the preceding, although somewhat more
connected. A large part of his checkered career as
pioneer, soldier, lawyer, banker, and writer was spent
in California, chiefly in connection with tlie press.
l[e wrote for eastern journals, and his works are
chiefly culled from pul)lished articles and letters.

A marked tendeiun' in all such sketches is to exajx-
gerato in order to strengthen the story, and this has
I'lH'n the case particularly with the gold discovery
period. Tiie reader may seldom object, but it cer-
tainly touches the feelings of many a class and fre-
<|uent protests have been uttered. In A PIcfarc of
l*i())icer 'rimes, William Gray makes a s{)ecial effort in
this direction, while seeking to impress his own not
wliolly unselfish or unprejudiced views about men and
events. The narrative is plain, though gossipy, and
interspersed with a number of racy anecilotes. The
Liijlits and Shades in San Francisco, by Lloyd, dwells

Essays and Miscellany 39

■I

< 't
I

610

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

on later aspects of society and institutions, witli a
sensational partiality for low life, while Isabelle Saxon
in her Five Years Within flie Golden Gate, and other
contributions, depicts rather the superior classes.
There is a strange mixture of credulity and good
sense in her observations, marked, also, by the ratjior
stubborn English idea of fitness, and by a refreshing
absence of feminine diffusion, Mrs Bates' Four Ycar^
on the Pacific Coast, stands midway between the two
in treatment and in describing interior village and
minintx life. Of a hiijher (;rade are Kirchhoff's //r/Vr-
hildes, and W. ]M. Fisher's Californians, the latter
forminij a series of clever character sketches, ajixit
somewhat strained and pedantic. W. Wright, long a
journalist on the coast and writing under different
noms de plume, chiefly that of Dan De Quillc, pre-
sents in the History of the liif) Bonanza a curious med-
ley of histimcal facts and humorous phases of society
in connection with a mining excitement that brouglit
about, in a measure, tlie repetition of flusli times of
El Dorado, and raised Nevada from a county appeii-
daire to a state. It is full of stirriin' incidents and
anecdotes, and delights in rough characters and dia-
lects ; but the illustrations are, as a rule, more amus-
ing than the too frequently strained attempts to
imitate Mark Twain.

A central picture in sketches of California society
has ever been accorded to the Cliinese, who with
extreme conservatism, preserve almost intact tlieir
peculiar customs in the midst of hostile and absorbing
elements. They occui)y ^ district wholly to tlieni-
selvcs, where their curious habits form a never-endiii:.,'
source of interest to other nationalities, and the visitor
ma}' gather a very fair idea of the Celestial cni[>ire
from this miniature. The most comprehensive ac-
counts of tlieni have been furnished by the missiona-
ries Loomis, Speer, and (Gibson, here established. Tlio
former contributed his in a scries of articles to the

SECOND DECADE.

611

Overland; Speer'sswcHed to a bulky volume, Tlie Ohlrnf
(nid NcwcM Empire, with his previous experiences in
C'hina, and with lenothly arguments in answer to
their traducers and political assailants. In this Gibson
supplements liim in his Chiiiette ix Awcricn, IS77.
Tiieir religious tone and partisan spirit have afforded
room for additional, though less extensive, observa-
tions from different standpoints.

Anoth.er class of recollections pertains more directly
to travels. Stillman's Scckivu (lie Ciohlm Finer is oc-
cupied chiefly with his voj'age out round Cnj)e Horn,
iiiid the return journey hy way of Nicaragua in f850,
with an intermediate diary of incidents in California.
The a]^pearance of the book is too j>retentious for the
crude journal it ond)odies, and the incoherency and
want of polish ap[)ears greater when comjian d with
an introiluction on the gold excitenunt, which revtals
tliat the author had the ability to revise liis woik.
1'he L(t(j of an Aiivind Mariiirr, by Cai)tain Wake-
man, may be termed a series of yarns, with (tccasion-
ally humorous passages, spun by a blunt and some-
what conceited yet good-natured sailor, in connectic^n
with his cruises, chieffy along this coast, to which he
hi'longs since 184I>. The book was edited by his
(laugliter, who carefully preserves the quaint dialect as
an essential feature. Iiiterior movements with pic-
tures of Indian life is i)resented in Crcnionv's Jj'fr
AiiKirif/ the Ajmeliea, giving the experiences of an active
participant in frontier wars, who comes to the C(tn-
< lusion that in the extermijiation of red-skins lies the
oiilv safety for settlers. The book is unsvmmetrical
and the diction cai'i'less, though gra])hic. Stephen
]*owers goes overthe same grounil in his Afoof, but he
dwells mainly on the pastoral phases ; de]»iets the
varied scenery in word-painting that is at times ex-
([nisite ; gives glowing ])ictures()f buddingsettlements,
and portrays the life within in graphic touches, re-
lieved by veins of satire antl softened by a veil of sub-

612

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

tie humor, rising iu)w and then into happy witticism.
Nevertlielcss, tho narrative drags at tinios, and only
too many pages have been filled with dull anecdote's
and dialect pieces. His MiUikiHgnni IjCfjends, partly
reprinted from the Overland, are a series of sketches
from different climes, well studied and finished ; gems
sparkling with all the beauties of the i)receding, and
with hardly any of their defects ; full of happy obser-
vations and conveyed in i)ictures<(ue language. Both
he and Cremony have left some useful maimscripts on
Ii'dian dialects.

More distant scenes are presented by Swift in
Gohif/ to .Icriclio, by way of the land of the Cid
through the Halicarnassian stamping-grounds. His
aim is to be entertaining rather than correct, and ti
this end he strains somewhat the Derbian vein, which
he has evidently cultivated ; nevertheless there is a
sufficient How of natural and genial humor and fn -
quent bursts of real eloquence, mingled with delicate
sentiment, to sustain the intimations made, and to
atone for occasional lapses in tast<; and effort. ]l( ad-
ers who delight in liarrowing and pathetic stories may
turn to McCrlashan's ///Vory of the Donner Parfi/, de-
scribing its terrible sufferings during the trip to ( ah
ifornia.

A great proportion of th(^ several hundred manu-
script contributions to my library by pioneers hc-
longs to the class of historic biography, deahii'4
more with tangible facts than abstract analysis or
moral infiuence, but generally relieved by quaiiit
drollery and piquant anecdotes. Their value to his-
tory is of the highest, bearing as they do on tlir dif-
ferent phases of California's unfolding. Few of tlusc
men have even attempted to give their memoiis in
print, their direct or indirect articles in public joui-
nals referring chiefl)- to episodes. I^erhaps the nmst
in\portant contribution among them is the Ixmillc'-
tions and Opinions of an old Piorwer, by Peter H.

HISTORIC BIOCRArHY.

013

Burnett, tlie first <.^ovcrn(ir of the state. Tlie first
lialf describes the land iournev to C)re<j:on, and his
career there as iu(l<j:e till the uold excitement lured
liini to California. The flush times, early political
atfairs, and industrial develo[)incnt from a banker's
standpoint are successively reviewed, interspersed
with refleciions and [)ersonal matter. The tone is
(■!^otistic, and the phraseology ungrannnatical. The
liiirr of tlie Wed, by that most versatile writer, Mrs
F. F. Victor, belongs pro[)erly to Oregon, but de-
serves special mention here for its attractive weft of
mountain and tra[)per incidents, with descriptive and
.'inecdotal matter. The Pcrfioval UeiDniixroiccx nf Jadf/c
Fid'l, printed in IHMO only for private distril)Ution, re-
late almost exclusively to his professional expe'ri-
( iices, suj>plemented by Some AccoiDif of ihr W'urlr of
Slcjilioi J. Field, 1.S81, filled mainly with his decisions.
'^Eeara's llroderiek dud (iin'ti delineates two political
leaders with the subtlety of a (alculating partisan.
Hiographic anecdotes of early men find s[)ecial consid-
eration in T^arry and Patten's Mev and Memoirs, a dis-
(onnected book, full of trivialities and poor anecdotes
as retailed in t!ie wine-sho[).

Nund)ers of clergymen have added records of
their efforts in furtherance of religious and educa-
tional advano(unent, notal)ly the ri'verends Williams,
Willey, and Wo«)ds. in .1 Fiotirer Padarofe and Thiks,
Tliirti/ Vearf^ ht Calif iruin, nwd Rreollerfiinis of Piomrr
II "/7.\ The first attained a second e<lition in iss-j,
nnd dwells on the history of th(! presbyterian chui'eh
at Sail Fi-ancisco, founded by him ; the second extends
Ills observations to eccK'siastlc labors generally; and
the last swcills his account with sketches of early
times and characters, in a chatty style, marked b\
cniisiderable naivete, and fre<|U(Mit attemj>ts at t lo-
(jueiice. The CheeLrrrd J/ife of \'^er Mehr concerns
iihiive all himself and his ol<l-world career, and reveals
II weak character with little talent, buffeted by a hard,
I'liicLical world, as may be judged from the puerile

C14

EARLY CALTFOnXIA LITERATURE.

sentinioiits and trivialities of tho story. General
biograjjliy has also received attention. Oscar Scliuck
prepared matter which grew to two volumes, but his
t'rt'ort was tar surpassed in size, trea|;nient, and appear-
ance by the Coutcinporarj Biofjraphij of Califnriii(i'.-<
Iicpresciikitlrc Mot, edited by Professor Pheli)s, and il-
lustrated, forming the most pretentious specimen vi
book manufacture on the coast.

Amid this flow of contributions toward history,
Californians did not lose sight of the main object fur
utilizing them. Men like Ednmnd Randolph, Ahx-
ander Taylor, Benjamin Hayes, and others energeti-
cally advocated the need for a formal history ot"
the state. Some became so interested as to form
in 1870 the California historical S(jciety, and wciit
so far as to issue a reprint of Palou's Notido.
Randolph gave an earlier example in 1860 by is-
suing An Odfluic of the History of CaJlfoniia till
lH4i), in less than seventy octavo pages, which,
brief as it is, reveals considerable research for tlinr,
time. Like them. Tavlor collected material, and
gave to the pulilie a portion of his treasures and
studies in journalistic articles on mission reginic,
biography, and other topics, confused and incoirect in
form, and pedantic in execution. Hayes, on t! i^
other hand, modestly I'onfined liimself to the laborii'iH
task of formitig scrap-books of newspaper ('li]>]Mn;^s
and nianuscri[)ts, classified by locality and subjict, and
extending to scores of volumes — all of which I pnr-
chased as one colU'ction. Others contributed to tic
press, as did Taylor, on special episodes or distrit ts.
and R. F. Ryan at an early date wrote for ilf
GoUJcii Era a series of chapters under a sensation.d
headiuii' on the history of the state, beoinning mIHi
the expedition of Cortes, but even less satisfactdv
than Randolph's sketch, and very fragmentarv. Out-
lines more or less comjilete and general may be fonnd
appended or embodied in descriptixe and statistical
works on the country.

SOME HISTORICAL EFFORTS.

G15

In 1851 John F. Morso hcgan the III nsfrated IJisfor-
ical Sketches of Califonikty with special attention to the
history of Sacramento, issued in cliea)) numbers, and
with Uttle evidence of research or elaboration, defects
which no doubt assisted to render the attempt a fail-
ure. In the following year appeared The Annals of
»S(i/A Fraiiclsco, with a historical introduction, a de-
scription of society and institutions, and a series
of biographies; the former lacking investigation and
care, the social pictures savoring strongly of the sen-
sational, and the biography of fulsome flatter}', the
historic text being also frequently marred with ])er-
s )iial notices. It may be classed as a book intended
to sell.

It was not till eleven years later tliat Franklin
Tutliill issued the first Ilisforj/ of Cal if(>r)i la dnHcrving
tlie title. He was fitted for his task by varied train-
ing and experiences as doctor. Legislator, and journal-
ist in his native state of New York. In 185'J he came
ti) scLtle hi California as an editor of the Bulletin.
Perceiving in him a natural taste for historic research,
I requested him to undertake the work, and as it was
in a measure connected with his duties, he readily ac-
({uiosced. Unfortunately, there were many obstacles
t > hamper him. He had neither time nor opportunity
for investigation, and adopted, often with insufficient
sUidy, the accounts of tho most accessible printed
sourees. For later times the news[)apers enabled him
to be more complete. In treatment he is not sym-
inotrical, and skims many mon)entous and thrilling
incidents, while according to others an undue share of
attention. Altliougli revealing a coimnendable grasp
of generalities and a clear judgment, he shows a simi-
lar unevenness in often failing to seize essential fea-
tures. Tho same characteristics a[>[)ly to style, which
is essentially cram[)i'd, a stiff ailherence to Macaulay's
l;u',onisms. He seinns chary of words as well as space,
and wliile the acknowledged })ossessor of a flowing
pen lie governs it too rigidly by the superior claims

616

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

of fact recital. There are occasional plays of wit and
fancy, but he is not always happy in similes, dosi)ito
his range of diction and lore. Altogether the work
leaves an impression not wholly satisfactory to either
student (^r casual reader.

Excess of work fostered an organic disease in Tut-
hill, and in 1864 he undertook a European tour for
his health, only to succumb at New York in tlie fil-
lowinuf year, at the ago of fortv-three. His last nio-
ments were given to revising the proof-sheets of the
history. While printed at New York, it was written
and published in California. A Yoidlcs History of
California, by Lucia Norman, may be regarded as an
abridgment of the above. Compact form and cheap-
ness were the chief causes for its success.

Nearly all the pre- American history of California,
extending over three quarters of a century, turns on
the missions; yet to tliis period and features little at-
tention has been given by the new occupants as com-
pared with tlie flood of information on the decado
beginning witli 1X40. This is pardonable in view of
the stirring incidents herein grouped ; but as their
splendor passed, and observers recovered somewhat
from the dazzling eftcct, they reverted to the quieter
scenes of the past, round the cradle of their state, aiid
saw there the heroic strug<jjlcs of self-sacrificinsx friars,
braving danger and endurhig hardship for the saving
of souls and the planting of civilizaticm. Thousands
of rude beings were undoubtedly made l)etter and
happier, even if they served mainly as stepping-stones
for colonization; and thousands of somewhat higher
beings were lifted to comfort and enjoyment in tlie
farms and towjis that sprang up along the ])atli of the
cross. Tliis was tlie wand that transformed a wilder-
ness into a ilourisliing territory.

It is but natural that tlie church which had laid
the foundation f )r an empire should desire t<i record
the groat acliievement, nenlected as it was bv civilians,
and this it has sought to do in ix History of the Catlidlio

SOME HISTORICAL EFFORTS,

617

Church in California, by W. Glceson, professor in St
]\Iary's college. The work was printed at San Fran-
cisco in 1871-2 in two volumes, with illustrations.

While adhering to the title, the text treats also oi'
secular events linked with the mani topic, notably
those that led to the occupation of this country.
There is a disproportion between the topics, however.
The missions very ])roperly receive the greatest space,
but those of Lower California embrace nearly one
third of all the material, and evidently be( ause their
history lay ready for the compiler in well-written vol-
umes. For tlie northern establishm(!nts he lias, nev-
ertheless, gathered some excellent facts. After IS.OO
he ignores political data, and swells his pages with
tales of wonderful conversions. He is not alone
strongly partisan, but he upholds modern miracles,
and gives undue importance to the traditions of pre-
Columbian visits bv St Thomas and the Irish fathers,
whose traces he fondly unravels in North American
mounds. These peculiarities are not balanced by any
particular excellence of treatment or stN'le. Indeed,
lio lacks Tutliill's dignified regard for historv, and dis-
plays less abilitj^ and care.

The centennial celebration of the United States
was, by sugufestion from congress, widelv coinmemo-
rated by a production of local histories, in California
i!o less than elsewhere. Among them was one of
San Francisco, which expanded into a large volume,
i'nd.)racing incidentally an outline of state occurr(>nces.
It was prepared by John S. Hittell, the leading statisti-
cal writer on the coast, and marked by liis characteristic
formality of treatment and independent, clear, and
comprehensive styh'. While surpassing in complete-
ness any previous elibrt, it is to be regretted that a still
1 letter use was not made of his opportunities l)y an
author with suHi wide experience and versatility of
tliemes. Connected v/ith the press f)f this city almost
since its b(>ginning, he has exercised a marked inHu-
i uceou public thought, and placed himself prominently

618

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

before it in a number of publications, notably the
lic.soarccs already spoken of, and A Brief History of
Culture, written with special attention to industrial
develo[)inent, and in a measure com[)lementary to
I)ra[)cr's Intellediuil Developiiunit. It does not attain
the same lofty range as this famous work, and is de-
ficient in the inductive and deductive study and treat-
ment to bo expected ; nevertheless, its value is
uiuioubted, forming as it does the first popular book
of the kind in English wliich combines scope and con-
ciseness. The issue, in 1857, of a Plea for Pantlickm,
indicates liis bent of thought. He wrote on phrenol-
ogy, translated several German scientific treatises,
dabbled in drama, and touched a variety of other sul)-
jects. One of his latest tasks was to edit the i'out-
merce and Indastries <f tJie Pacific States, at my request.
Among other local histories of California nmst be
mentioned Dwinelle's Colonial Jfistorij of San Francisco,
which passed through several editions, and which
presents an exhaustive argument before the court,
with a series of documents establishing the early
existence of this city as a pueblo, and tracing tlio
colonial policy of Spain and Mexico toward such stt-
tlonients. The History of San Jose — by F. Hall.
author of the Life of }[axiinilian, and legal adviser to
this ruler — is a very fullami ratherambitious work, con-
sidering the subject. Tinkham wrote a nmcli infeiior
account of Stockton. Hugo Reid and others earlr
contributed articles to the press on county historv.
wherein Isaac Ci>x takes the lead with his Annals i:J
Tri)iity County. This is a class of books which of lato
years has been issued in groat [)rofusion by s|)eculative
firms, based on the vanity of pushing settlers, wlmso
biogra[)hies and estates form the main topics. With
all tlieir undigested and fulsome details, oftni
embodied in florid verbiage, they contain many val-
uable facts Little superior to these is the pretentious
RrpiLhlicanisDi in America by R. Guy M'Clellaii,
which may be called an apology for the republuaii

SCIENCE.

cia

party, to wlioso prejudices it a})peals. It is uneven
in treatment, hastily thrown together, and not very
dignified m style or logical in spirit.

That Californians arc interested in scientific subjects
is demonstrated by tlie foundation, in 18j3, of the
Academy of Natural Sciences, which has grown in
importance ever since, and contributed much to tlie
enlightenment of the j)et)ple in its s[)ceial de-
partment. The source for admiration herein lies
not so much in the early date of its establisli-
nient, for the heavy inwnigration to California
brought a large proportion of educated men with a
taste in this direction; it is its steady growth, amid ex-
citing incidents and absorbiing pursuits, which attracts
our attention. Mining was naturally the main in-
centive for investigation, and called for a vast number
of more or less elaborate and learned treatises, eitlier
in the several journals devoted to this branch, or in
s])ecial form. Among the latter must be mentiojied
the reports and hand-book.^ of William Blake, Kustel,
IMiillips, J. J. Powell ; and above all J. Iloss Browne
and Clarence King, the former reporting to the f( d-
eral government. The latter was coimected with the
Ideological survey of California, begun in 1.8G0, and
from which resulted several bulky volumes on the
diH'erent subjects falling within its province, William
P. Blake, later connected in this state with the
university, had in 1853 made a geologic survey
f.»r the federal authorities, and thereu[)on a special
examination. An amateur investigator in this field
is John Muir, whose enthusiastic i'esearches, embrac-
iii^-several important discoveries and theories, he re-
vealed in articles to periodicals. Professor Jose|>h
]je Conte's studies on this and other subjects have
appeared also in book form; those of his brother,
.lulin, likewise professor at the university of California,
relate mainly to physics, astronomy, and medicine.
Both have an attractive style. Medical and agricul-

620

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE,

tural journals arc licre in rcspoctable nuuibor, witli
articles of as high an ordor as elsewhere, and several
doctors have, like Toland, jmblished lectures and dis-
sertations. Members of this [»rofession have also
been foremost in botanic resear<*h, Kello}>Lj settini: a
good example more than twenty years ago with his
illustrated articles for the periodicals. K. H. Stretch
and W. H. Edwards, the former mineralogist of Ne-
vada, the latter an actor, wrote extensively on lepi-
doptera ; Grayson contributed to the knowledge of
California birds, and left much material on Mexican
ornithology, and Scammon pre[)ared interesting arti-
cle's for the OrrrlamI, which were afterward incorix)-
rated in his elaborate work on Mamie Mainmah.
Davidson of the coast survey has made important
additions to the knowledge of geography, meteorology,
and astronom3^

Comparative philology has engaged the attention
of Adlcy Hook Cummins, whose contributions to tin-
study of old Germanic languages have procured him
an enviable record. George Gibbs has ac(|uired prom-
inence as a writer on aboriginal languages, and on the
ethnology of this coast. I have already spoken <it'
the vocabulai'ies and grammars prepared b}' the friars,
and by later writers like l\)W(>rs and Cremony. There
is room for nmch similar work, with an ample field
among the numerous trihes of the country now rapidly
fading away. John Swett stands prominent as ;i
writer on education. E. S. Carr, sometime professor
at the university of California, has given the annals
of the farmers' movement in his Patrons of Ilnaba'udrii.
Hilgard, Hyatt, and Perkins have supplemented his
treatises by valuable researches on agriculture.

Political science shows such writers as C. T. Hop-
kins and Henry George. The latter, an able editor,
achieved celebrity with his Progress and Povcrtu, a
work that revives in an effective manner doctrims
enunciated by Quesnay and De Gournay for placin^^
taxation mainly on land. George urges that land he.

JUUlSrUUDEXCE.

C'Jl

vestotl wliolly in the jroverinnont, and propounds sev-
eral otlior theories stamped hy certain originality as
well as by stron*^ imagination and vigorous stylo.
The success of the book was greatly due to the social-
istic excitement prevalent at the time of issue, savor-
ing as it docs of connnunism, and revelling in uto[)ian
fancies. The introductory review of economic prin-
ciples and writers is not treated with sufficient con-
sideration.

The peculiar conditions attending the occupation of
land and mines in this country has led to an amount
of litigation unparalleled for extent and importance,
and con3e<iuently to vast additions in forensic litera-
ture, remarkable not alone for research but for elo-
quence and depth of thought. Of the former class
may be mentioned the compilations of M. ]\r. Estte,
J. N. Pomeroy, and those begun by Proft'utt, now
grown to one of the most voluminous issues of de-
cisions ever made. The eft'orts of legal lights, i)ar-
tiiking of Dwinelle's argument on pueblo lands, or
(Tregory Yale's 11 Vi/rr liiglifs, will be found noticed
elsewhere. Suffice it here to allude to those of II. W.
Halleck, whose justly esteemed Iiiternuthmul Law
found its beginning in questions decided by him as
early as 1840, during the conquest of the country.
Halleck had before this issued Kkntods of Military
Art, which obtained a second edition in 1861, and A
Collection of MiniiKj Lairs of ISjHiin a)i<l Mexico. This
and the first-named work were published in San
Francisco.

The devotion to scientific and practical studies is
marked in California aujong the men, and in accord
with the general activity in developing the cumulat-
ing resources. This observation is su|)ported not nn
nmch by the number and labors of societies, which are
chiefly of the literary and debating classes, as by the
records of libraries. These have been rapidly nmlti-
olying and enlarging since the momentous year of
1849, with a commendable predilection for useful and

irn

KAIILY CALIFORNIA LITKllATUUR

standard works, notwitlistandin** tlio stronjjf doiiuuid
for si'iitiuK'ntal novels l)y a nms.s ot' luisurL'-riddeu
women."

Ilcligious feeling on tliis coast is far less widc-s|)read
or intense than in the countries from which its i)o[)u-
lation is drawn, as can be readilv judged from tlie ol)-
servance of the Sahhath, with its excursions and loc.il
entertainments, and from the want of fervor among
those who attend church. The adventurous spirit
that prompt( d most of the comers to this far off sliore ;
the very object that allured them, and wliic'i has con-
tinucnl to be so all-absorbing; the roaming life of
many, and the unsettled position of others — all this
has contributed to the prevalent indifference for de-
votion, fostered also by the tone of nn influential
press. Materialistic tendencies are common among
its writers, a few with German sympathies inclining
to such teachings as arc given in John S. Hittell's
]*lca for J\mthc(sii), San Francisco, 1S57. Itmnstnot
be forgotten, however, that since Californiii h.. s been
made a state, the people of New England have castolF
much of their supi'rstition ; so that after all our const
cannot be considered freer from fanaticism to-day than
the intt^llectual and cultured circles of the east. The
most fervent believers in old-time doctrines and ti;i-
ditions are no doubt those of the Koman catholic
church, which appeals greatly to the senses and emo-
tions, and relics chieHy on certain classes. Hare, in-
deed arc conversions like that recorded by Governor
Burnett in The Path irJiich Led a Protcsfmit Lavyrr to
the Cofliollc Clinrcli, New York, 1859. It bears traces
of priostly pens. The conversion took place while he
resided in Oregon, and was attributed by opponents to
ambitious motives. This tlie book seeks to disprove.
Teachhup of the Arjesi is a book, issued in 1874 by A.
C. Traveler, advocating a universal church, having
for its creed the general principles underlying Chris-
tianity. It is stamped by Swedenborgian views, how-

RELIGION.

over, and full of foniinliio rlmpsodios and diU'iiscin ss.
Judijjo Wid.iey, of Los Angeles, wrote a very ublcund
ortli(Kl()X \V(.rk ontltlod TJic Planof Cnnfion.

With this iniiii^ling of indifferonco for the judpit
and Jittontion to estrangini; thouj^ht, ministers have
strug'^lod hard to maintain their influoncu, and have
only too fre(iiiuntly rc^sortod to more or loss sensa-
tional adjuncts, iu theme of sermon, in nnisie, and
ether contrivances to attract the wayward Hock.
Theirs has in a groat measure continued to he a niis-
sionary field, with demand for teachers aiid guides
rather than theologians and thinkers. Thus, wiiih! our
{trotostant clergy include in their ranks men of the lat-
ter stamp, they have both in their pri'aching and writ-
Hig souglit to conform to the claims of their })r(»fession.

l^ishop Kip, so long connected with California, is
the author of a number of books bearing on his field,
l)ut they are all of what njay be termed po])ular
treatises both in size and treatment. His series on the
Jesuit missions are extracts from the old and curious
//7/rrs Edifiantes, Tlie Early Conflicts of Clirisfldiilfij,
The Church of the Apostles, and the better kiwtwn ('(if<i-
romhsof Rome, illustrating the earliest unfolding of the
faitii, and impress lessons which are happily brought
liomo in Unnotircl Tli'nHfii of Scripture. Sevei'al of
these volumes reached a number of editions, particu-
larly the Double Witnexfi of fite Church, which is a tie-
fence of episcopal principles, a cause also espoused
by F. C Ewer, rector of Christ church, for protest-
antism generally in his ^V■^//o/^s•, New York, ISGl).
This talented man w^as in early days connected with
California, notably as editor of the riouccr magazine
of 1854 6.

Another prolific church writer was W. A. Scott,
an able thouijh somewliat egotistical and dogmatical
presbyterian, whose oi)|)osition to the vigilance com-
mittee of 1856, and to the war for the unicm in 1800-1,
created some excitement at the respective dates. His
subjects were maiidy the portraj-al of bible charactei"3

624

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

wlioso example lie seeks to upliokl, wliilo investing;
the storv with iiuinv ot' the alluiiiiu; features of tlic
histoiie novel, includniL!; pictuns of Oriental society.
This is especially tlie case with Kstlar, the Jlcbn ir-
l\'rmin (^nrcn, inteiuled for female readers. l\iJhuii<l
ho addresses youiiL? men, and The (limit Judijc, a study
of Samson, is intended to ])romote the ]>urity of niar-
ria'i;e and domestic life, while The Church in the Armij
points to early centurions as <;uides for soldiers.
Their puhlication was due to the success, es[)e(ially
in the eastern states, of his Wrdf/c of G'oA/, iHof).
with its lessons fnnn the life of Achan ai^ainst e\-
trava<j;ance and love of money. The chction and
[diraseology are frecjueutly hiblical, and the religious
strain is perhaps too intense, in its continuance at
least. Trddc (Did IjcUrrs, on their relationship and
moral tendency, is more profane in tone. Musc.^ <ni'l
the I*( iihifcnrh forms a reply to Colenso, and in Tin
Christ of the Apostles Crcnl he arrays himself aij^aiiist
Arianism and kiiidred doi>;nias. This is the most pie-
tenti«>us of his works, and reveals indeed research of
no mean extent, in addition to the study im|)re.ssed mi
all his pa;4'es, with its a(hnirable display of analysis
and deduction, and further, a liberality of opinion
which is demonstrated in his ar*j;ument ai;ainst se( t;i-
rianism in schools. In this he was opposeil hy lii^
confrere, W. C. Anderson, who eloquently upheld tin
use of the bible for schools. It is to be i-e^^retted tli;it
such pronounced abilities and severe stutlv should he
m the iuain wastetl on puerile subjects.

In the sermons and addresses of the unitarian niin
inter, Thomas Starr Kinjjf, Christimiitif and IIiiiii(iii/'l;i,
J\itriotism and other hipers, we find thouj^ht clothed
in picturesque word-[>aintini»', and in the author ;i
mat^netism that drew crowtis of admirers. His stir-
rinjj^ eloquence found a tittinuf theme durin<jj the union
war, in the midst of which he died, rej^retted by peo-
ple of every religion and of no religion.

ORATORY.

C25

To tho abovo may he acMod the discoursos of the
lioveroiid Wadsworth, and the rarer Hermons of a few
others, besides momoirs elsewhere noticed. jMoro
|»ublieations coul<l not reasonably be cxpectetl, for the
eleri^y (►f California lived in an a-j^e of action rather
than of thoui^ht. The scenes depicted in Taylor's Sfrni
IWdcliiiif/ stamp to a ^I'eat extent the early stniijfoles,
with which only too many are still occui)ie(l,altlioU!j;h
others jiave passed throiijjjh different stages to a mon;
settK'd condition, here or elsewhere. Their most
ertectivc appeals were ])robably those; in which they
roused attention by interweaving illustrations from
profissional pursuits and home life, and drawing les-
.sons in prudi-nce, integrity, manliness, and kindness.
Among these practical preachers were tiie ( ongrega-
tionalist A. \j. Stone — see his Mcniorial Discniirscs,
ii(»ston, 1S(U> — and J. B. Thomas, a ba|>tist, with sci-
entific tastes; also Kincard and ]^riggs. Otlu'rs
rik(> Jewell, the methodist, aroused interest by anec-
dotes from common life, inclining somewhat to tho
si'nsational. Cox and Pierpont approached the re-
vivalist method, with its ]>lay upon the em(»tions. the
loftier and purer phases of which were admiral>ly
t' inched by Wadsworth. Scenes and characters from
the bible were treated with comprehensive th(»rough-
iiess, not alone by Scott, but by tho cojigregationalist
XoMe. Kij» inclined to historic subjects, and the «'on-
gi'egationalist, Burrows, was .strong in the classical and
ill .s(»(ial analysis. In IMatt of the episcopal church
we meet the philosoj»her ; tin* unitarian. Stebbins, is
more, metaphysical, and also the methodist, Stratton.
The term ethical apj)Iies best to l^eckwith and Ijams,
(•oiigregationalists. (Jray, ba|>tist, and thi; preshyte-
riiins, Kels and Williams- the latter brought before
the public also as editor of ('<>)tfnciHs ami flir Clii-
vc.^r (^hissicn, San Franci.sco, 18(57 —also Clibson and
liuoniis. and such eloquent preachers of the lioman
church a.s (Tibney, (xrey, an<l IVendergast. The .spir-
ited Buchard may be classed as a polemic, like hid

KS8AY« ASI> MiMKLLANV

lil

626

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

opponent, prcmpliill, asoniowliat bigoted prcshyterian,
dis[)osed towanl tlie sensational, yet eiRlovved witli ji,
natural form of eloquence. Sensationalism has lured
many from tlie dignified attitude associated with tlic
pulpit, partly from the ])ressure of circumstances, hut
also from innate dis[)osition, and political questions
have frequently been discussed with indecorous lient,
notahh' by the baptist, Kalloch. Another desecratnr
of the cloth, Van do Mark, the universalist, excelled
in elocution. For pictures(jue eloquence (iuard, metli-
odist, stands unsurpassed ; jMactlonald, episco])aliaii,
liad a studied brilliancy, and Starr King shone in his
strength and magnetism.

In the oratory of the bar and assembly are equallv
bright names, and amon<j; them California claims also
a share in E. J). Baker, a prominent debater of his
day in the United States senate, who, during the
opening decade of the state's develo[)ment, exettfd
his magic elocpienco in behalf of patriotism, mo\i d
the heart with his lofty tenderness, and dazzled with
his siq)erb woi'd-painting. Colonel Kewen possessed
the latter quality in a high degree, but with too
marked floriditv. Thomas Fitch excelled in imantiv,
and (Jeorge (Jrordon is conspicuous for poetic strains.
John }i. Felton, with his love for the heroic and gn at
in human nature, revealed a strong emotional viiii.
Then there were Edmund Randolph, deep with his-
toric lore, tlie epigrammatic W. S. Ferguson, Til-
ford, J. A. Collins, Geoi-ge Barstow, Charles A.
Sunnier, James A. jMcDougall, Volnc}^ Howard, and
lEenrv Ed'j^erton ; while native Californiaris find up-
resentatives in men like Sepiilveda and Del A'alle.

Their efforts are naturally more or less colored ly
the <jreater excitabilitv of tem[)eratnent around them.
<lrawn from tlu? very air and soil, and manitesled
partly in enterprise, partly in a taste for the sensa-
tional rather than for the reflective. The audi-
ence is accordingly less cold and critical, and lasily
swayed by humorous fancies or sarcastic sallies,

PKCULIARITIES AND COXDTTIOXS!.

637

stirring Impulses or lofty emotions, the sentimental

holii'jf rather exolusivelv left t

() women.

Vol

l)ilitv iui<\ self-contidenee cannot be called lackiii'j:
amoii;^ the orators, and thus fortified, they are ahle
to ex(!i't tJKMr power with eonsiderahio freedom. Suh-
jtrcts arc not wanting, sharing as wo do in all the
gr-t'at and glorious incidents in Am(>rican nati(nial life

and in its constant and varying political struggles,
and p;)ss \ssing hesid(\s a history of our own, une<juaiied
for vivid [)ictures, with a triph; array of pilgrim fatht-rs
from somide'endarv times throu'jh vistas of fierce
frontier wars, thrilling hunting adventures, and (\dm
pasti>ral pursuits, all merging in hrilliant transforma-
tion sfienos. The foremost ot these, tht; gold discdv-
erv, is a never ending source; for apju'al and flattery,
as progress and lii)i'rty are for inciwitive and exhorta-
ti )ii. !*] pitlly charaetcn'istic are the onih( Ilishnients,
clii 'Hy s'it'nie imig'My fi-om a truly hcautiful and
varied Ian Is-api^ and a) Italiaii sky. If the ohjectivo
thenitj I); ofr.eii vapid and mt-aningless. its haekgi'nnnd
is at least grand, and the coloring warm and aniinat-
iiig. Frun oik! must spiing taste, from hoth li»fty
aspirations, and with them a strain of originality

(I raw 1 1 n

)t al

one

fr(

om our novel social phases, an(

I nil

iiiriifest.! I in human dialeets, a»id other classical ah-
iMr nities ; ami not al mio from inspiring scenery : hut
fiMin a comliination of ethical and physi<'al circuni-
stmc'ei which holds forth the brightest [)r()misc.

California lias a certain literature of her own re-
volving round tin! incidents and characters of mining
(• I'll »■», tho noveltv and peculiaritv of which sniliced
t^> impart a sp(H'ia! stamp to tin; narration. It depicts
tVoutior life in the diggings, in the towns of sheds and
tt'iits sprung uj> within a day, and oft as speedily
.'i'» i!ido:ied to solitude and decay. Weather-beaten,
1' u!iy biiarded ni'ii fornu^d the bulk of the commu-
nity, with a sprinkling (►f efteminacy and wr'ick in
broken-down topers ami empty headed tyros, wiih

628

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

^^ainl)lers and dupes, villains and bullies. Catastroplios,
wild orgies and rash deeds, streaks of fortune and
niislia[)s, alternate in ra[)id sequence, narrated largely
ill the raoy frontier vernacular, with varied admixture
of brogue.

Life was a gamble, centring as it did on ever-
expected yet rare realizations of riches, which were
usually dissipated with the reckless disregard accom-
panying easy acquisition. It took a mazy turn and
motley coloring, and the predominance vt' males im-
parted a rough masculine stamp. There is a markrd
apiu^al to sentiment, particularly in allusions to a dis-
tant home, to exile longings, and to death-bed scenes;
yet love episodes are wrought in a spirit of droll
bluntness. The spectacle is too (extravagant in its
pictures! jucness and incongruities to be described in
ordinary language. It moulds diction as well as
fancv. Writers fall irrt^sistiblv hito a fictitious stvlf,
and swell the improbable with exaggeration and
anomaly.

Thus grew a class of tales an<l novels, known in
some directions as Cnlifornian, wliieh achii^ved wide
popularity, from their novelty of form and subjoct,
from the broad interest taken in the country, and
from the excuse they afforded to C(>rtain classes to in-
dulge their s<vret penchant for a tabooed bhuxl-and-
thuiuler and flashy literature.

The leading figure is the honest miner, in woollen
shirt find high boots, with pistol and bag of gold-dust
at the belt. The piquant soubriiiuet un<hT whicli In'
is introduced, like those of liis camp and gulch, \n-r-
sents the individual peculiarity which marks him
tiiroughout the progress of his career, in perse-
vering effort or reckless abandon, in rolliekin-^
indulixcnce or sage discussion; vet underlaid I'V a
tender-hearted dis[)osition which peers through tlie
oath-laden vigor of his talk. A swarthy Mexi-
can or South American is introduced to bear the oh-
loquy of certain crimes, a love tragedy or vend< ita,

INFLUENCE OF WOMAN.

.-;'^'-

born of a jealous disposition or a sliglitcd and rcvono
ful soul. Around the outskirts liovtrs tlie last survi-
vor of some Indian triou, to i»oint out the dejiiadatien
lurking in rum, to illustrate in his devotion the mag-
netism and su[»eriority of white men, or to personate
the devilish instincts of scalp-huntinij savages. The
role of gentleman, in white shirt and semi-Mexican
picturesqueness of covering, is usually assigned to the
gambler, but its inferiority to that of the horny-handed
digger is indicated by pronounced black-leg i>roclivities.
The ever-welcome doctor is accordingly invested with
the garb of honored toiler, relieved alone by more
studied speech. In truth, the dandy is either hviio-
crite, maudlin nund>skull, or rascal, while fiankmss,
generosity, and bravery lie in the rough diamond,
who discovers the slumberin<2; treasure, or achieves
the cuhninatmg success.

Woman usually dawns like a heavenly vision upon
the cam)), where her sex has not been seen Ijcfore
She is ensiirhied the guardian s[)irit, the (jueen, or
sprightly elf of the place. Or she may be a romjting
wikl flower, self-reliant and k(>en, abounding in slang,
and in familiar comradeship with admiring courtiers, to
a certain limit. Bevond the ma^ic circle flits tlu' strav
waif, in a glamor of comjjassionate regard, which sur-
sounds evi'U the beldame. Some noble sacrifice or
gt'nerous trait adds its redeeming halo.

WiMuan is the sole aristocracy. The rest minijrle
in the deniocratit- equality which here assumed a level
never bi-fore attained. But it is a reckless conmmnil v,
fi\'(|Uentlv bordiM'in'j; on lawlessness, althou'-h re-
strained in the nick of time by the valiant hero;
lirawls and nmrders do alternatr, likewise plots and
vigilance connnittees, all in (piiik changes, with strik-
ing tableaux, full of improbability and [>aia(lox, of
humor, pathos, and above all, eccentricity. In Indian
and Spanish coninmnities an; also many striking and
attractive features, which have found p(i[tular a[»[)roval
in novels of the llanwna type. The new social

680

EARLY I'ALIFOIINIA LITERATURE.

rirolos arisino- in connection with southern Californi.i
hf.iltii and pl'/asuri' rusorts and colony tracts otlcr
additional topics for the many writers joining in the

Calif

ornia pilj^rnnage

»n,

S[)iHMniens of the border or ''tale" class of fictic
founded on experience or unvarnished recollections l'\
|>ioneers, are conunon enough since all-inspiring '41',
t!S|H!ei;dly in periodicals, but it was given to Francis
liret Harte to invi\st it with niarkcil excellijnce, ami
to attract woi'ld-wide attention, thus gaining for hiiii-
self the crt'i^lit of having foun<led a new school. Tin'
grounds for this claim a|)|K'ar less substantial wh< ;i
we considi>r the evolution of tlio tales in question, and
till" siinilai'ity of his methods of writing to tiiose, sav.ef

icKeiis and Jjowi

I J

'11, with traces, also, o( Thackerav

and Irving. Nevertheless, h(! exhibits acond)inatii'ii
of traits so admirable as to entitle him to the credit if
positive genius, ami to explain why he lias been
widelv imitated. 1 [is striMiixth lies, above all in i

m ai»-

pfeeiation of the grotes((ue, which crops out ever\ -
where, now in broad veins, now in subtile tracerv,
investing even solenni and tragic incidents with a bur-
der of humor that turns the most serious affairs in life
into burles(|ue. With this is mhigled an under-
curri'ut of satire, tlu' niori^ pleasing because unobtiu-
sive,although itoften burstsupou the reader in swelling
volume and forct> ; and then a pathos so tendi'r, yet
so penetrating, as to change the smile into a ivM\
He is full of quaint ideas and eccentricity, but he
sul)dues the oU'ensive, intimating rather than uttering',
and seeking t.-ver to cast a veil of mercy or doubt ovt r
even the worst character.-', whoso traits he has otlh r-
wisc so graphically delin(>ated in colors true t(» their
strange environment. The analytic power underlyiiii;'
his creations is ri'vealed esj»ecial]y in the Cinxli iif^id
Ndi'ch, parodies wherein lie exposes the mannerism,
and other defects or peculiarities (if

shallowness.

thors. Ho is also skilhnl in the use of

may bo seen also in his neat sketches of

woi
SL'cnci

(Is, as

■y

FICTION.

681

though this frequently tk'gcncratcs uito a striving for

viYvA't

Such are iiulisjmtahly the merits of Ilartc as ilis-
])liiy«'<l ill his btst etlorts, ii(>tably those eonneeted
with T/ic Lnrk of lioarimj (\tiiii>, liowever iiiueli iiuiy
\)v tlue to tlie inspiration born of en\ uoiunent and as-
sociation sinee bo\ liood, with tlieir strikin<j[ reaiitirs.
Hut lie lias also liis deficiencies. He sought for
years before lu; struck the happy vein which horo
Jiini on to success, and upon this he worked till signs
of monotony and weakness indicated that it had l»»'eu
well nigh exiiausted. Then he tried the novel and
the drama, otily to fail and to tlisclose the narrow
limits of his range. Even in his best sketches there
is an ominous sameness of fi-atures an«l of ])hrases.
The sentiment degeni'rates to tl:e conuiionphu'i', and
tJie melotlramatie exaggt'ration assumes a glaring
]>romin«nice in the inferioi- ])ieces. We must not ex-
|iect from him sustained ell'orts inv;*lving ])lot, sym-
metr\', consistency ; but be content with tin; surpass-
ing excellence of his short C^difornia [)ieces, which are
not likely, liowever, to bring him enduring fame.
His ti'aining, no less than his greatest successes, were
as intimati'lv connected with California as his career
was a hap[ty illustration of its bohemian vicissitudes.
He canu! of mixed English, (xerman, and Hebrew
blood, and was i)orn in IS;}() at Albany, New York,
where his father held the pt)sition of teacher at a
female colU'ge. In isr)4 the family came to this
(•(•untry and l^ret — originally Ih-ett- for three years
pass(Hl through the experiences of miner, expressman,
teacher, and the like, mingling with tlu' strange; char-
I'.cters of the mining region, and observing tlu'ir pecu-
liaritit'S with an acuteuoss sliari)ened by novelty and
by developing faculties. After this he went to San
Francisco as compositor on the (ioldoi Krtt, and be-
gan to contribute sketches which attracted fritiidly
notice from men like Starr King, who procured him a
hinecure clerk&ihip in the miut. Hurte made good use

632

EARLY CAUFORNIA LITERATURE.

of his leisure by devotin*; himself to studies and writ^
ing, and to editing the L'aUfornkut, where appeared the
Vondemed Novels, the first production to attract for
him trans-continental notice. In 18G8 he was entrusted
with the editorship of the Overland Monthly ; and in
making it a literary success, mainly with liisCalifuniiii
sketches in prose and verse, he also achieved for himst It
that recognition on which his fame rests. California
readers were backward in according their approval to
the credit given him on the Atlantic slopes. In 1871
we find him in the eastern states reai)ing the reward to
which the Heathen Cliihee gave the decisive impulse,
and later consular appointments in Germany and Scot-
land afforded a change of .scene both for studies and
honors. His contributions to newsj^apers and maga-
zines have all been ct)llL'cted since his first decided suc-
cess, and issued in book form under such leading titles
as (^'oiidem^ed Novels, The Lnek of Roaring Cuiiqt, Mth
l^haijifs Ifushamls, Flip, and Talcs of the yln/ovavls.
(kthricl 'jmroify an 8vo of 4G6 pages, is the largest and
worst story, and next to it is The Story of a Mine,
a 12moof 172 pages. None of the collection e<iuul in
the aggregate that of TIic Luck of Roar in f/ Catiiji,
with its admirable Outcasts of Poker Flat, Taincssas
Partner, MiiJi/lcs, and the title ])iece.

Harte's theme had been cultivated in different veins
since the year of the gold fever, as may have bei n
seen in stray sections of early books on California and
in periodicals. For Ralph Keeler may however be
reserved the claim of having written the first novel of
any merit on California life. It was published jit
Boston, but failed to attract attention. Keeler fig-
ured later in eastern magazines and as a foreign cot-
respomh^nt. Josephine Clifford has been among tlie
happiest contributors of short tales, based on i>ei-
sonal observations in Arizona and California. Tlie
Mexican population takes l prominent place in tlio
strong incidents depicted, and share in the neat
bits of character portrayal, which together with the

FICTIOX.

688

spirit of narration and snjootlinoss of diction impart
an unflat'«'inix interest. Hvr (hrrUnul T<tJc^, imblished
in 1877, take their name from tlieniaj^azine from which
tlicy ^vero reprinted. B. C Truman issued in 1881 a
simiUir collection, the (hcidniUil Slirfrhcs, which art;
vij^orously traced, and eidivened by frequent streaks of
humor. Cremony's contril)utions to the <hrrl(ni<l
possess similar attractive qualities. Noah l^rooks is
a prolific writer for the same magazine, as well as
S. Powers an<l P. Mulford. Gally's Sojid, and
Jiitj Jack StiiaU attract«ul much attention in 1881.
(jrrey's P'nwrcr Times contain three stories on early
Cahfornia experiences which do not lack interest, hut
whicli reveal in their many naiv(^ and crude passaL^es
aii untrained pen. T)a;4L!;ett's llmj'i<ni llur is ahler,
and dis])lay8 some of Harte'^ consj)icuous featun'S.
H. Busch attempts, in tlie German JIarri/ Plmrcr-
ficUl, to follow the ste[)s of an early «j^old-seeker,
l)ut his style is too stitl' to suit tlie subject. Joaquin
^Miller's tales arc uneven, like his poetry, wliile full
of the dramatic incidents that have led to adaptations
on the stage of the Mn//7r.s-and other pieces.

One of the most meritorious of elaborations on
Pacific coast life is J. F. Swift's American novel, as
he stvles it, Uohcri firratlioitsr. It deals with the
career of a dare-devil gambler of the Nevada mining
region, of good descent, whose manv graceless scliemes
iiiul escapades stand redeemed by certain strict id(>as
of honor inculcate<l by family jtride, and by a patii-
otic devotion wliieh finally, during the union war,
consigns him to the grave of a soldier, '^i'he vein
of humor noticed in connection with his doiufi fn
Jrrh'lio, assists U) brighten the well-sustained inci-
dents and characters.

Phases of the unfolding of fashionable and artistic
life at the western metropolis are touched uj>on in
]\[ary W, Glascock's Dare, while its temi>tatioiis find
ail ex[)onent in Aimie Lake, who delights in exti-ava-
gant ideas no less fanciful than her word [>ainting.

634

EAULV CALIFORNIA LITERATUKK.

Trivial dialoj^uos add to tlic defects of lior On the
Verge. Tlio struggles of hiinibler classes in England
and America are revealed in Madame Jane Jnrk and
Joe, in imitation of Dickens, by Mary liorneman, J.
F. (JIark strives in The ^<<>i'}ety In Search of Truth to
exjiose tlu! evils of stock-gandjling, in which he as bro-
ker had i.iken an unfortunate part. But the manij)U-
lation of bonds has evidently not tended to improve
that of the i)en. Another moralist is Andre, who in
Orcrcoiiie advocates the vii'tues of teini)erance, but
with a feminine effort at delicacy that here uufDi-
tunately transcends into insii)idity. Even anti-Chi-
nese declaimers have sought fiction as a medium for
impressing their arguments, as instanced by A. Whit-
ney's Almond J'Ji/cd, of somewhat coarse grain. A
more imaginative production is the Last Daijx of the
Republic, by P. W. Dooner, although marred l>y a
socialistic tone and stiff' ))retentious diction. It as-
sumes a swelling unmigration of Mongols until the
entire United States is overrun and surrendered to
the control of the new masters, who thereupon re-
model all institutions to suit their ideas. The o[»er;i-
tions of the celestial system, a century hence, are
minutely outlined.

The taste for sensational stories among the early
miners, in harmony with their own feverish life, is in-
dicated by the favor accorded to the contributi(^ns of
Rowena Granice (Steele) to the Golden Era, so much
so as to prompt the reissue of several. Of a similar
though higher grade are the weird tales of W, II.
Rhodes, partly collected in Caxtons Book, whose inLicn-
ious and scientific weft, with many a humorous thread,
partake both of Poc and Verne, and have like theia
found imitators in different directions.

The affectation for English customs is upheld in
Behind the Arras by Constance Maude Neville, whoso
name harmonizes with the somewhat pompous and
stereotyped style and character of the book, laden al>o
with feminine intensity and adjectives and borderii).;

FICTION.

or.

on the romantic, as truly sot fortli by the titlo. TIio
tlit-'ino coiK'unis a strayed brood of fliildrcu of arislo-
cratie bii(ja«^»;. Hrlij^ion and lovo an- judiciously
iiiini;le<l in Laura Preston's /// Hoiid.s, aiul in IjhIi\
(inifcHHiottii, ^oY tli(j oditication of sci'upulous Sunday
roadors. The fornior relates to two women, one of
clouded descent, the other tainted with ncLifro bl(»od.
whoso suflerin;4s seek ex|»ressi(»n in unjjjranunatical
form, and in frecjuent forced , napsodiesof the revival-
ist typo. /,w// assumes the plaintive strain in confess-
iu!^' her unhappy love, but offsets the weakness with a
.series of stronn'-minded o|)inions. Arlllr llronii, bv
T. Dettcr, is remarkable only in Ix-inn" written by a
( olorod man. T/ic drak <S'/(nY', tlescribin;^ the devo-
tion of a n'lrl of the classic peninsula who married a
detested man to save her father, indicates in its oush-
iii'jj effusiveness the recently escaped school-^irl.
Superior to most of these rises Edna N'erne in
Fidel Itc, in describnig how two lovers, separated by a
jealous intrii^uer, reunited in r'alifornia after many
struijjgles, and on the eve of the briile's pro])osed sac-
rifice of her hand in behalf of her father's totterintr
fortunes.

With still more pleasure can wo turn to the shorter
stories of Frances Fuller A'^ictor. IJisini;" above allec-
tation and tritlin;^ sentiment, she invests lun" char-
acters and incidents with a vividness of tone that
;ij)peals to the roadi'r, while the ])oetie instinct wliich
first jjjained her poj)ular ap[)roval weaves an appro-
priate tracery. Jiei" ap])arent [trcference for ( )re<»on
topics has arisen fi-om the discovei'v of a fresh field,
in oppositi«ni to California, which has been so often
depictured.

The references already made to this writer
LMve evidence of a rare versatility in heavv as

' t.' V

We'll as light branches of literature, and in this
.'Hid other respects she stands unapproached amonj^
the female authors of the Pacific coast. In the east-
ein states her sketches, novelettes, and poems had

630

EAULY CALIFORNIA TJTKRATURE.

BHicc tlie forties ju'ocurod for lior wide roronrnitioii,
and aftor lior arrival huri) in ISG.'J slic at oiifi; tooli a
proiniiioiit [>laco iit tlu; literary circle for varied con-
tributions, enibracinLj also historic articles and essays,
and humorous-satiric pieces, the latter chietly con-
nected with the nom de pluniu of Florence Fane,
which so loni^ assisted to maintain the popularity iA'
the (fithirn Kra. Only a few of her writin,L!,s huvc!
been collected for the AV//' Piiiclnjx;, and this toj^ethcr
with tlie Rhrr of flic U'rsf, a historic bio<jjra|thy relat-
in;^ to the fur-huntinj^ei'aof the slo[)C, and tiui fascinat-
ing descriptive work, All over Orc'ijon, and M'asliiiif/foii,
constitute tlie sole s])ecimens in book form bearin;^
her widely appreciated name.

In juvenile books, Laura Preston reveals a graphic
simi)licity and strength not found in her novel; yet
slic stands surpassed l>y Carrie Carlton (W. Wright),
whose vivacity drifts at times into delightful abandon,
and again rising to enthusiasm. Fanciful legends and
bits of poetry add to the fascination of her biglcmxiL.
K. D. Smith combines hajipily the sym[)athetic.
sprightly, and pictures(|ue in tlie Tlic Story of ralsii.
Th(! collection in Xo JUibi/ in flie House is spirited \vi
tender, and that in The Candy Elephant has a redeem-
ing vein of fun.

It will be noticed that love stories and society
novels have fiillen almost exclusively into the ham Is
of women; the men, seizing upon the more pertinent
realities before them, found therein sufficient of tin-
picturiisque and extravagant to exclude the desire tnr
conjuring up sontim«'ntal fancies. The large propoi-
tion of women contributing here toall light branches of
literature is due to conditions which will be consideinl
elsewhere. Their superior fitness in many directions
is conceded, if only from the intuitive penetration and
the keenness of observation in social matters lackin^^
in men. Society is still in course of formation, hut
this by no means detracts from the scope of subjt ( t.
for already there is found a most cosmopolitan admix-

THE DRAMA.

6n7

turo and tlio froqnont oIiuiiujch (»f fortune, wliicli \n''\n<jf
forward a <jivat vaiit'tv of tiiiurcH in lapid rotation,
to-rrtlier with ati almiulanco of sin<;ular cliaraitcr.s,
and food for caricaturo and humor, notal)lv ainon"; the
shoddy and aini)itiou.s class. The fact that there is
httlo cnooui'a<^cnicnt for hterary productions anionuf
this population, which harely supports even a few
niauazines, has encoura<jted tin; writiii'j: of short tales
in j»relerence to elahorate novels, which seldom ii[»ay
ev(.'n the cost of printing.

The strikinjLij incidents which form so ahundant a
source for the short tale could not fail to sui^'^'est
themselves as admirahlo for the stage. lCa>itein
diamatists early nuule use of them, and seveial local
oJKservers hastened forward with ])roductions foun<led
in their t'litirety on this highly-colored niateii.d, as
Di'lano in .1 Lire, Woman in the Mlin.^, llarte in Tii'o
Mm of SdiHh/ liar, Miller in the Danitfx, Mi/ I'artiicr,
and similar pieces. Their strong seasoning soon rele-
gated them, however, together with other frontier
dramas, to inferior theatres. Only a few have man-
aged to sustain themselves midst the predilection ex-
hibited for foreign productions, especially of the soci-
I'ty class. Even loud nu^lodramas from such a source
were deemed acceptable, if presented as successes from
some (U^cent theatre of London or Paris. In Califor-
nia the desire to behold reputed pieces from the east
and Eui'ope proved still stronger, bound as the publico
was by so matiy ties to those regions, in addition to
curiosity. With a paucity of theatres and competi-
ti(m, managers felt little inclined to ri.sk their efforts
on doubtful local compositions, when so rich an array
of assured merit lay ready for plucking beyond the
mountains and the <icean.

The spirit, nevertheless, moved many a local aspi-
rant to reduce his ideas to pa]>er, among them C. E.
11 Howe, who i.ssued, in 1S5H, a five-act play on
Joaquin Murkta, the noted bandit. He paints him as

638

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

a luro, wlio |)assc8 unstained tlir<>uii;li the butcheries
that surrouiul liini, and spouts nol)le tlioujjjli uii^iinii-
matical sentences, scintillatini4- witli n)any a "'tis end
"vondcr." Similar eoast cliaraetcrs ai'c Uiuelnd in ^Ic-
Kiidey's J>ri';/litiiii Yi)iiii(j, and \Vel)l)'s Oitr Frioul fn.m
\'ici<ir/(i. M I's l^urton reveals her innate Sjiani.-<h
taste in the Hve-aet eoniedv <>f J)(ni iinixafc. JaXv.
exposes th'j Dark Saiirc ])e Chado, l^ansniaii.
l-}arnes tlu; lawyer, and J. S. Hitti'll ixUo figure
auioiej" i)lav \vri''hts. The hist strives for a h Itv
topic in dramatizing CJoethe's luinsf under (\ii\-
day conditions, f'ro,n winch tlic scenic and supernatniiil
ai'e omitted. The tlieni(> lias l)een too ( h sely Wechud
to music, however, with other striking- adjuncts, to j,c
aj»|>i'eciated in harer form, chspite its many e\(eihn-
cies, as many other writers have learned to tin ii' ( est.
Of late a few ti'iumphs have Keen achieved, hut (hiitly
with adapt.itions, as the safi^st middle uiound • ii
which to encourage managers, anil totiainand insjiiic
conruleiice among writers.

In the production of such pieces another ohstacle
is a lack of stock <-ompani( s with which to l)iine i hi m
forward. They have heeii tried at (hfl'erent tiim s.
with only jnrtial success, and th( aires are for the um st
part suri'endered to tiavelling hands or to actois ot re-
n»»wn.orwith special ]>ieces. for whom stipport isl.asi ily
eolle<ted nom ainongtlu' numeious di-xote r.s to the his-
trionic art abiding at San Francisco, and there <h \ ( hp-
ing under several teachei's of I'eputation. Studi ntsarc

)V no means few

The cit V t>f the (loldell ( iate is onenf

the; most anuisementdoving places m the woild. al
though wiihahent for the Teutoidr rather than J.atiii
form of ga\('tv

le cause lies m

cNcital'h^ t< ,11

peranient develojuil during the gold fever, fostered
by climate and s|>( culative opeiation.s. and displayetl in
drinking, miniicj; gandiK's, and <»ther excesses. The
})re|)onderanre of men on the coast, for whom the (ity
ia the gn'at centre of plensm-t" .is well as l)usiness.
directs entertainments chieily tu theatres, Lilliaid

nUMOROUiS WR1TIN(;S

ono

lialls, and tlio like, with a [)i-irfr('ii('e on tlio sta^c for
hilarious rather than |i;rave pieces. Xuinhcrs of
associations have ftiriii;(l for jauposes of aniuscnient,
and anionic; them a lai'!j;e i>ro|)(»rtioii of (h'ainatic < luhs,
whose reunions, thou;4h emhiijj,' usually with a dance,
are marked l)y the picsentation of amateur as well as
standard [)lays. Kven here local writers rar« ly find
an oi)enin;^, while in AEexico such talent is specially
favored l»v associations. Their intluenc*! nmst he felt
iu time, however, \-h'm the e.\paiisi(<n of other
hran<'hcs shall oiler greater o})})ortunities also f»r
dramatists.

A marked feature of the California tales is the hu-
morous Vein pervading a lai'ge proportion of them; a
Vein which rapidly culminated in jMoductions of

-O ( \-

■ptional

a charactt'r as to attam a laie p(»jtularity m

that particular tii-ld. It is a humor in most re'S[)ects
as cosmopolitan as tlni region wl;; nv\: it sprang. It
p;irtd<cs l>y inheritance of the English pr-'dijectioii
toi- individual and class ti'aits, though with little of
its chiii'actii'istic sneering conceit and irony It. tends
in fact toward the hroadei", though more gent rous
mood of the (jlerman, yet does not descend to the
urossn 'ss of the Mi'ditei-raiiean nation, nor to the;
\eiled sug'^estiveiiess of the l''ri iicli. It sympathizes

Il'Sd

ith the droll )'o''uishn

ess o

f the f herian. without

.'inproaching the [uienle admixtuic of the Spanish
.Vmericans, and i-eveals a tinirc of the Irish infriiiLre-

men

tof 1

OiJIC

It f )und a prolitic sources in the misc<'llan(>ous gath-
criti'j-s at the ''old fields, hoisterouslv acti\e foi' woi-k
or "play, and wilh striking characters and occurrences
"M which to dirt'ct a kei'U oloervation. The re'^qi-n
was replete with tlios(! odd contrasts wherein lie-; the;
Ljeiin foi wit; with ahnoi'mities of a ;;;iotes(|Ue ordc r ;
With peculiar tigur s and lial»its; visionai'v expecta-
tions and con.seipient disappointments; amhitious
stiifo and race feeling; rand a variety of dialects and

•V 1

f I

040

EAULV CALIFOIINIA LITKUATURK.

hrofiuos. The pauritv of women, and tlic dcijracKd
natui'c; of so many of tliein, did not produce the cor-

respondin;;; levity of speech that nii«^ht luive been ex-
pected, owiui^ to the lart>e admixture of superior men,
and to tiie iingerinjj; eH'ect of early training among
the numerous descendants of the puritans.

Tiie humor here originating partook largely of that
andiicious western vein, of which Lincoln's stoi-ics
jtresent a moderated form, and of the dialect-twisting
associated with American horder scenes, wliih; yield-
ing less to the charactt>ristic [ilay of easteiii writers
on the ahsurdities of English orthography, thus sep-
arating alike from Breitmaim and Xashy, with their
(Hiaint learnin'j[ and hlunderin<^ wis<loni. It ^ivts
preference to facts and form ratlun* than to words,
the pun cominix less naturallv to the Califoridan than
to the l']n'>Tish, to iudiJte partlv from the slow responsi;
of galleries to l)urles(|Ui^ c(»ntortions of that cliis>, :'nd
to tli(! lal>ore(l demonstration attached to jour;; iM tic
specimens. It doliglits in the characteristic Ameri-
can exaggeration, extravagant, distorted, and incon-
gruous, and in the alfectntion of sini[»!iclty and
surprise, with a mock self-ahasement or underrating,
in contrast with the British sujx'rcilious sarcasm.

The forem(»st place among writers of California
training in this field is Sanmel L. Clemens, (Mark

wan I

). Th

.f tl

le experience or the young iMissouriau iii
printing-offices and on tlu; deck of Mississippi steam-
boats servi>d to develop the iimate appreciation of the
grot<\s«|ue, which presi-nted itself in so conci'ntratc*! a
form before his eves durint; a journalistic career eu
the Pacific coast extending from IHfJlto IS(if). His
Jnmp'nif] Fro;/, and other tales, as collected and
issued at London in 1807, first brought him to
notice, and ins[)ir(!d tlu^ confidence which enaliled
him to (rive to the world the njore elaboratt; ///

II"-

crnfs yihroad. This established his rei)utation ."iihI
brought him pecuniary reward. He now revivxl
his Pacific experiences in Roufjfiinr/ It, infusing Ins

HUMOROUS WRITIX(i.S.

peculiar facetiousnoss into the class of incidents
and characters displayed in California stories,
and in Nesting this west ct)ast product with fresh
interest. In like manner he turned back to his Alis-
sissip|»i steamboat experiences, without striking iiere
or in subsequent writings the same attractive chonl.
While JkOiif/liinii It pouis forth tlie most natural and
copious stream of whimsicalities, and reveals their
California source in form as well as substance, the
Life oil thr Missifisippl applies a more serious under-
current, with a suiface flow of farcical anec<lotes, ab-

surd burlescjue, and hoax sketches often of a ghastly
t\pe, yet so clothed with details t"s to leave a strong
impression of truth. The Jiiiioccnffi is marked chieHy
liy flippant caricature and an exaggerat<<l criticism
which respects neither tlu' sacred nor solemn, ni'ither

the classic nor the crude. Jlis fancies ai

seldom

>tnunt!d, and one reas«»n for their sustaine<l interest
lies in the i-onneeted story forming their frami'-work.
Mark Twain had a host of iinitators on this coast,
;is elsewhere, fllling the jjress and a number of vol-
umes with every degrt'c; of scintillation, but oidy a
t"i\v have succeeded in lending therebv additional in-
tercst to their production. Several writers <tn min-
ing e[)is()des, as J)an ]^e Quille, (Wright), seek t<» cast
ili'ir narrative in facetious and satiric mould, and
M'ry acceptably. Old Hlock. (A. iJelano), did so in
a dry suggestive tone, bi'eaking out in occasional word
play. Swift has a natural fund of hum(»r, which m
Holxrt Grt'dtliniific takes the form of Rttiuiliiiuj If, wlr'e
Ills doiiifj id Jirichd, corresponds greatly to tin- fund-
CI Ills Ahi'ddd. Koss Browne i-xhibits a: similar jocun-
dity when treating of miners and Indians. I*r(>ntiee
Mulford j)ossesses a genuine vein of criticism which

ill

unimes nc

arly e^

vervthin*r he writ( s. and is fn

'lU'iitly marked by epigramnatic flashes. All of these,
cvt II (^lcm<!ns, have studied to some t'xtetit the pro-
ductions of (ieorge H. Derby, the t>arlir'st (;f Califor
uiu humorists, better known as ''John Phtenix." llis

KkHAYH ANU .Ml.tCKI.l.ANV U

Mi EARLY PALIFORMA LITERATURE.

oxuberaiic'o found vent diiriiin^ a six years' military
service on the Pacific coast, and a wann welcome was
subsequently accorded to liini and his books in the
eastern states. Ho was a spontaneous joker, ever ready
witli an anecdote or burlescjue, and fond of banteriiiLj
in the abstruse to[)ics harmonizing with his sujH-riui'
education and taste. Hartc approached liim in lint -
ncs.s of ijjrain. as a satiri.st. Carrie Carlton, (Mrs W.
VVri<4lit), the best known feniah; humorist, under thf
name of Topscy Turvey, partakes of Delano's style.
Liiilit-luarted as ever, and with a })reponderanc('
of i'ollickint2[, baclielor Californians cultivate the
comic asj>oct of lift; with promisin*^ assiduity, and .sev-
eral jr<unials liave devoted thetnseves es[)ecially Id
their (MJifieation. The competition of eastern period-
icals, with their striking advantages, ti-nds to over-
shadow them, liowever, and devt'lopijig lights seek
n'ltui'ally the broader fields of the Atlantic slope

Atusic and poetry are M'idely associated with s< mi-
tropic liinds like tlie Iherian and Apennine })eninsul;is.
although England K'ads in tin; pi't)fusenessan<l luauty
of metri«' effusions, and (iernumy and Swedeji ii\ < al
in the mnnber of concei't gardens and glee clubs tin ir
devotion to the lyi'ic elrnu nt. Tise inlliienciiig cjium'
has to be suuu'ht not alone in phv>-ical surround iii''-,

I' - .
but in language, habits, and other features.

( "alif

orJiia cvimliines se\'era

1 f

ivormir coi

id it

ions, III

grand scener\', <le!ightfnl air. aiid a motley represent-
ation from cultivated nations. Musicshops ami
teacher.s are exceptionally mmierous in tSan FiiUi-
risco and other centres; pianos and other insirunienr>
resound in all (|uarters, and vcr.se is .sandwicJKMJ in!"
all grad(-s of entcjrtainment The taste is conspim-
ous since early colonial days, wlien the Spanisli fadl-
it\- foi' viTsilication was iilustrated amonef settlers in

ready improvisation on local t(»pics, at social reuinens
aided as they weve ly the easy assonance rliyiniir/
In political circles .satire iU)Wed freely. Their ctl'u&iuii-

I'OKTkY.

(■>♦:!

nan hardly bo said to liavc readied the nrade of
poetry, howevrr. Tliis awaited the iiiHux of educated
lK'(»j»l(' alter tlie ineiiiorahle gold discoxcry.

It !i)ight be ex[»eeted tliat tiie display here of
strange seeneH and n<tvrl and varied eondFtions wliieli
hurst ujiou tlu; iuiinigrants, after a long interval of
uiouotonv autl hardsliip on the niareli and vo\a''(',
uould prove inspiring. The eoujitry undoubteiHy
jtresented itself a paradise and treasure-Held, hut
the preoccupation of mining and other pursuits, and
the unsettled state of atHaiis, gave litth' opportunity

As sorictv hi'gan to ci'vstallize.

for verse wiitin

liowever, and joiirnals multiplied, togethei' with

epiienieral ina<j:a/ni<'S,

)( »e

s corner lured onwan

:i fast ijrowin''' eon>.rihution. In the second decade
rhymesters could l.i(> counted i)y the hundred. They
))ei'tained to the sj)asniodic grade, which too cltarly
pointed to t\io prevailing utilitarianism, and to imita-
tive or inculcated forms which (tvershadowi d {)roxi-

IVeS

ni \ani am

mate objiMts, and « \h lUsted tlu-m^

ie;h> pursuit of loftier theiuo, too often utterly remote

uiid inappropi'iate.

This neglect, thougli mainly du(^ to lack of poetic
instinct, gave the opportunity which brought fame
to the two nuMi who so fai- figure as tl
.>en

10 repre-
tativo ]ioets of the coast, by \ Irtue of training,

characteristic sue.jects. asid liigii e\c( Wvua

Jhvt

llarte cai'iicd the Califoinia stori(>s into verse, and
tlierein likewise atiiinied his position as the foumh-r
of a new scliool of dialect writing. Xevertheless his
f iremost element hi're is the rxipiisite satire which

lirst lifted him to fani'

n the lli'itilio) Vit'nicr

ds th(> analysis, pith, and exp.ressiveness displayed
in tlie ('i)mkiiHid Xonl.-i, aiid intousides tin; pathetic

an(

I d(5scriptiv(* )»ower of his tales

Tlie poet of iiispiiatioii

Cincimiatus Heine ?Jiller,

horn in Ohio, but beKjUging since his teens to Oregon

and C^dif irnia, whei'e he also passei

of maiiliood, though in a roaming ami desultor}

I the tirst dec.nh
lt«

044

EAIILY CALIFOnXIA T.ITKUATURE.

numnor. Tlic first collection of pooms was issued at
Portland in 180'.), under the t'\t\v, Joaquin ctal, a name
lie had ado|)ted out of admiration for the noted Cal-
ifornia handit, Joaquin Murieta. It received suffi-
cient reco<^nition to encoura^je liis aspirations for
wider fame. And so he started for the Atlantic
states and I']nL?land, there to obtain an attention, per-
haj»s not equal to his own expectations, yet somewhat
sfartlinjjf to his coast oom])atriots, who had looked
down u[)on him as a flighty i)ohemian. The Sovf/s of
the Sicrrm had an alluriii*j!; western ring for the l^rit-
ish ear, and its ( hami)ionship of opi)ressed Indians
added a claim on New England sympathisers. Tin
subjects are largely based on jH'rsonal experience in
the wilds and the mountains, among his former coni-
|)anions, tin- aborigines and miners, and under tin
bajuier of Walker, the filibuster. A " loose and un
couth bou(|uet," he calls the book, and so it is, though
with many a beautiful flower. Tlie imagery, \'rv
quiMitly rich and striking, degenerates too oft<Mi intn
the fantastic an<l absurd. Vigor and puerility, the
gorgeous and bare, stand side by si(h;; lofty iiispira
tion and crude ])rosaism with slips of grammar. Now
a series of Hyronic flashes, then an in»petuous flow of
verbiage. These glaring defects long maintained a
euiTi'iit of ridicule against him, especially at home,
but moie impaitial judges abroad recognized that
although uneven and little polished, the diamond h.nl
the true sparkle of genuineness. A reception was
assured f>r his "^Iiailoirfi of Shasta, «SV)»7,s' of the Sun-
land, and other verse, which contiiuie the initial
topics, and he ac(juired a position among second-clas-;
poets. Tales, novels, and dramas point the profitaM''
v'arietv of his i)en. yet indicate no improvement in
methdii

I [art. was instrmn<Mital in procuring wider jtublici'v
for a number of early California verse-makers, liy
issuing in IHr><» a selection of tiieir work under tiie
title of (h(ff'roitpi)i(js. While little noticed abroad it

rOKTRY.

f4r.

'•ini-

itial

■1:.-^

ilM-

it ill

iriU'

• ''>■

■ 1 1 :''

x\ it

created nmcli local attention, chiefly on the part of tlie
overlooked aspirants. After an exchange of sharp
|)t'n-thrusts tliey prevailed on Mary Wentworth (Mrs
K(!uniann) to do tiit in jnstice by sendinj^' forth a larger
collfction undi'r tlu" imposing tith; »»f I'ortri/ of (Ik;
l\(i'li\(\ vvhieli utterly ignores tlu; prt-ccding vnluni<\
npi-ating its choicest bits. The st'K'clion is ccrtaiiiiy
nioH! rei)resentative and enihraeos such well knowo
names as E. Pollock, ('. W. Stoddard, L. and .1. T.

(rood

man, F. Soule, the \eteran singer

J. I

AXh'W, t

\i. llidgiN W. A. Krndall, J. F. Howman, 1 [. ('.
Dorr, and on the female side with an ecjiial array; F.
F. V'ictor, who enjoyed the preemiiu-nt distinction

of havm>' acliievei

1 a [>l

ace iu

the g

rallcrv o

f A

mcri-

can poets [)rior to her arrival, partly by means (»f iier
volumi! entitled l^oanx of S( ul/'nioif and fnun/iiKiliou,
l(S.>l, and who hiin' sought es[H'cially to link tho fan-
t'ii!s of till' Sacramento and the Columbia; Carrie
(wirltoM. the humorist K. Lawson, K. A. Simonton,
l*ag'', (JIara CIy<le, A[ay Wentworth, Mrs Field, and
Ina Ctolbrith. Most of tliese nuist l)e assigned to
the [) -riod of ami aftijr the union war. Among th

earlier li 'hts J

OllOl

■k stands alone, credited with a

certain degre- of originality, but his pieces weri^ not
of such a character as to attain special publication
afttn' his dea,tii. Stoddai'd, who i'anked clos(( t<» him,
soon turneil his rellectivc and de.scriptive fancy into
the idyllic prose sketches on which his ri'putation now
rests. Am )iig the most gifted of female poets may
he placed Mary 11. Field, who wrote. I// Arhoml Sdii;/.
iVmoiig the first metric eiVusions published in special
form in (California. w;is filailina by llariy Quillam,
liich sold well (U'spife its stilted medioci'ity. Some
■\ipjisit« ly written and illusti'ated Nolumes have been

i>sm

d by Mrs M. U. M. Toland.

Women swelled the ranks of writers in this as well
as other lighter bjanches of liti I'ature, in I'ver grow-
ing numbers aftei- the first di'cade, and exhibit a com-
jMiatively greatei* improvement in shorter pieces, loi'

646

EARLY CALIFOUNIA I-I'l KKATL'UE.

tlieir aml)itI<>us(lK)rtsureuii.su.stuiiU'(l in jxiw'tu'. From
thiir fugitive i»iL'( cs alone coultl ho formed an antliul-
(>,ny apjiropi'iate to the coast, wiiicli nii*^lit saf ly
cliallenge ('<)m[)urisoii with the [)rotluctions of okitr
states.

Those of C'ahfornia were imitative like all coloni;;!
cH'iits, and still remain so in a great measure, sij)|»iiig
alike from eastern and J^ritish sourct'S. Nevertheless,
an early independent Hight is ohsirvid in ]^ret ITarte,
and a wide recognition for true [toetic spirit was oh-
tained in anothi'r, beside which we hehold many a
gleam of originality in contemporary essays. The
mass is remai'kahle rather for suhdued sweetness and
pathos, however, than for thundering a[»ostro[»lies ( r
tiery c nunciation. Inspiration was found less in nature's
as|)ects, although scenery is both grand and conn)act,
with the infinite ocean on one side and the siiow-
criAvned Sii'i'ra on the otljer. It sprang rather from
the novel and varied social conditions. J [arte ob-
served the deHciency in descri[)tive and pastoral efforts,
and ascribed it to absence of well-defim^d seasons ami
to the conse((uent monotony; but another and full\
as strong an inHuence is to be observed, which alUcts
also the tone in general with an elegiac strain, par-
ticularly in relli'ctive passages. A restlessness and
yearning is noticeable of pemling as[>irations, of in
com|>lete fulfilment, which harmonizes with the strug-
gle fV)r wealth, the speculative bent, and the unsettled
state of affairs so gteatly due to a stimulating ( li-
mate. Hence the soaring pieans correspomling t^i
the instilled exuberance of thought and action;
ftillowed by dcj)ressions, of pensive melancholy— lik''
the two seasons of bustle and idleness, »)f rain aiil
sunshine.

Within th(! past decac'i' or two pastoral verse
has markedly increased, following ujton the li<i Is
of social evolution like other brandies of art. Tlic
comic aspect stands revealed in the California stoiy,
so fruitful a source for compositions, and so extreme

EN( i EXDERINfi CON DITIONS.

647

in that deviation now observable among Americans
from puritan reverence aiitl soberness. It does not
Iiowever descend to the Hii)pant «^ayety disphiyed in
i\[exican poetry, wliich is alKcted by a similar under-
current of sadness. In California both elements are
moditi(;d by a more practical tone and a greater
streiii^th and indepeiukiice of mind, which, reactiiii;
likewise on the pervading exuberan<'e in society and
tJH! attendant unpromising fluctuati(»ns of character,
may in time assert themselves in lofty and sustaineti
|)roductions worthy of an auspicious bej^inning and of
enduring reputation.

Gold and the cross play similar rAles in Spanish
America and along the IVicific coast, in planting the
foundation for settlement, and inipnssing tlieir re-
s[)ectivc stami)S on society and literature, (jold, with
its ])ale sister, proved the more energetic and enter-
prising. ]\Iore potent than royalty or ri'ligion, it
i'liored or overcame obstacles which were dei med
impassable under any other auspices, impi'lling on-
ward explorers, concpierors, and colonists, converting
the wilderness to civilization.

The cross followed close behind to seek a share in
the unfolding treasure, and strengthening ]»illars for
its power in aboriginal converts. ]']n( ouiaged by
success it pressed onward when the other leader fal-
tered before the shattereil fable of golden cities, and
the dwindling veins of }irecious metals. It beckoned
the conqueror on to glory, and joined with settlers in
bendiuLT the Indian to the v<»ke. It infused fresh
spirit, and with aid of tlio harpy-visaged inquisition
stanqK'd all efforts with its seal. It occupied tin.'
historic field with naive chronicles; filled biogra[>hy
with dreary ascetic experiences ; irowded out science
with scholastic polemics and homilies. It immured
the foremost nmse of jSIexico within a convent, and
walled the masses round with ignorance ; but it also
raised monasteries as depositories for learning toward
a later revival.

■> \

"""■ r-'

ijil.:.:;!

■ ■(..: ■ ;

i •'

if" \

■,!i. '

648

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

When during tho republic men foil off in allo«^ianre
to wrangle on battlo-fickl and in legislative liall,
the church still retained the hold on inipressionaMe
women and children. Through them mainly was
retained in California a foothold for the church wliieh
l»ad changed it from a savage hunting ground to a
prosperous pastoral colony, centering round the fast
crumblin*' missions. California became the scene of the
irreatest subversion of reliiiious influence in the demo-
cratic levelling which attended tho gold discovery ;
and this extended also over Oregon atid beyond, to
Alaska, where occupation had been established under
missionary auspices.

Gold assorted once more its superior might by sur-
passing tho slow advance of clerical leaders in thi;
sudden transformation of dosort valleys into populous
states. It provided tho grandest of topics for history
and poetry, the finest of wefts for fiction, great char-
actors P)r biograpliy, and a new field for science. It
moulded every aspiration and utterance, and brushtMl
away the cobwebs of conventional influence and tra-
dition ; it produced tho condition on which rose tht;
Cj,lifornia story, to lift to fame humorists, dialect
writers, and poets.

Tho profane assumed absolute sway, and thougli
California was once mor>) declared a mission field, into
which different sects poured their apostles, and began
under the powerful patronage of inflowing women a
work of regeneration by means of congregations,
tracts, and religious journals, naught availed against
omnipotent gold. Doctrines and worship sank to thiir
proper level as mere refining agents. Progress, uii
luimpered,8ped on its way, leaving California's fonn-r
mistress still struggling to free herself from the hur
don of the cross.

Besides tho all-compoUhig gold and cross, many
other influences have impressed themselves on litera-
ture. In Mexico conquest and race feelini;, an oppres-
sive state and church [)olicy, and the Spanish dis-

SOCIAL CON'DITION'S.

C49

rof^nrd for and suHpicion (»f creoK's, oMf()rro<l a non-
committal toiu! ill so maiiv dirootions tliat iimotions
had to seek a dis.juis<'d vent, iiotablv in rdi'loiis
toj)irs and amatoiy i)o(>tiy. Witli tin- ivvolution
asceticism was to some extent cast aside in favor < f
tlic fi«'ry jmtriotic spirit wliicli invaded all l>i*anelies ( f
literature. This was sustained l»y internecine! wars
and fori'ij^n invasions, and spread in feeUK; rell(>ction
to California and other frontier re;^ions. l[erc how-
ever rose more potent factors in the wake of the
vast metal discoveries: an adventurous inten onrse
by sea and lan<l, the intlux of Meets, the rise of camps
and towns, the unfoldinj^ of resources on a scale of
unparallele«l niaijjnitude, the *;rowth of new race an-
ti|)athies betwi'en Latin and Teutonic Americans, and
ajjfainst intrudini^ Mon<j;ols. This and the vaLial)nnd-
a^(! fost(;red by the roamini^ life of miners ^;ave a
foothold for socialistic writin^^s, while the t^rowth of
niono[>oly, particularly in land, sui^i^ested the widely
read works of Henry (Jleorgo. Camp life with its
incon<j;ruities start(^d a new dialect literature, wltli
ra<'y humor and satire. Later and more st date de-
velopments promoted a tastt- for idyllic compositions.
The union war imparted a j^lowtosmoulderiiii:; patriot-
ism, and the extendini? intercours*; with adjacent
countries opened wider fields for observation.

Both Mexico and (\'ilifornia cherished the exuber-
ance which is so lart^ely associated with minin-^ and
frontier settlements. It appeal's in the extravagance
of the California story, in the bent for irreverent and
exajjf'^erated witticism, in imitations of Foe's weird
fancies, in soarinj^ oi-atory, and sensational novels and
dramas. Mexico partook of similar fancies, es|)ecially
the droll, j^ay, and satiric, while tin* floriated (ionn'o-
rism in style found here a more abidinj^ home than in
Spain, owiiii^ to the natural dis[)osition of the people
for artificial eft'usivcness.

The elcijjiac strain, which schmus a natural antithesis
to this exuberant spirit and activity, harmonizes with

III

* 'I

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

■'i

1.0

I.I

1.25

iiiii

2.0

*- IIIIM

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Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREcT

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 873-4503

>«Jp

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650

EARLf CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

the idea enfolding this extreme western shore. It is
the terminal land for the Aryan march of centuries
from their Asiatic cradle to the borders of the great
ocean intervening between them and their ancient
lionie. Wliile the tone here is greatly due to climate,
in ^lexico it ccMnes also in inheritance from the abor-
igines, among whom it lies impressed by centuries of
tyranny and bloody worship, followed by serfdom
under Spain. The Yankee has likewise been termed
by many observers a mournful soul, in his inner-
most deptlis, despite his dry humor. Grimaldi was
a lugubrious fellow at home. We know of Irish
gayety, but also of the melancholy which pervades
his favorite standard songs, and of the doleful refrains
of the cronies at the hearth.

Amatory poetry and sentimental tales occupy lead-
ing i)laces in Mexican literature. The cause may be
traced to a semi-tropic clime and to the propensities
arising with race mixture, but is greatly due to the
oriental seclusion of young women, drawn from Moor-
ish-Iberian custom, with the attendant serenade.
Yei like the prevailing conventionalities everything
is glossed, leaving the passionate impulses in tlio
undercurrent. Allusions to the family are reverently
tender, but satire is a})t to be somewhat gross. In
business intercourse, words and promises count for
little, and in partisan affairs no one ventures to come
forth without an array of substantiating documents to
prove statements, (if all this an inkling comes to us
through the colonial occupants of California. The
different traits and habits of the colder Anglo-Saxon
revealed little of such tendencies. Nevertheless, the
climate and peculiar social conditions have effected
certain changes; and it is to be noticed that a number
of sentimental novels have been written, almost exclu
sively by women, and frequently in a tone far fruui
healthy.

Women have here contributed an exceptionally
large pr()i)ortion of light literature, owing to tlic

ABORIGINAL.

651

preoccupation of men witli exacting business pursuits.
The striking scenes of actual life were, besides, too
absorbing to allow for the latter to yield much of
their attention to maudlin fancies. The adulation of
woman, the general attluence, and the disposition for
hotel life to the avoidance of household cares, pro-
vided her with an excess of leisure that impelled many
to enter the literary field. The productions affirm
the verdict of her inferiority to the man, as may bo
expected under the deterring intluenccs of frontier life,
wliich have until lately held back the higher grades
of her sex. In Mexico, on tiie contrary, women stand
more nearly on a plane of intellectual equality with
the men, although neglected in education and socially
restrained, as illustrated in the dueima system, which
stamps them with an absurd irresponsibility. When
married, prudence concedes a flattering deference to
their lords. Nevertheless, a number of promising
female liglits have appeared of late in poetry and
prose fiction, fn)m which in time may emerge a fitting
successor to the Mexican nun, who in Spain ranks as
the tenth nmse.

■ California has no rich aboriginal sources from which
to gather inspiration and prestige for her literature ;
nothing beyond some puerile hieroglyi)hics on rock
walls, and a few vague myths concerning faded tribes
and geographic points of interest, half intimated in
the musical names transmitted to us. Spanish-
America rejoices in an abundance of native records,
backed by traditions, and mingled with legends
bearing tlie im[)ress of both a Hesiod and an
Ossian. And what may not the unsolvetl Maya pic-
ture-writings disclose to a coming Cham[)ollion 1

Race infiuences are ai)[)arent in both regions : in
Latin America in triple degree. The aborigines, after
long providing men'ly toi)ics, have recently entered
into active com[)etltion in letters, to balance witli
tlu'ir sedate tone the florid exuberance of the mes-
tizo. The sprightly vivacity of the latter has led him

652

EAKLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

to the exaggerated cultlsino, and his spasmodic energy
and lovo for gloss to superficiality. The less imagina-
tive and njorc patient Indian inclines to history and
science, leaving the li!j:ht(;r branches chieHv to the
soaring taste and as[)irations of the other. The
Spaniard, who used to give the impress to colonial
productions, responded to the varying fashions of
peninsular style, yet in a more stately and dignitied
form than the extreme-loving half-brother. In CuH-
fornia both the latter are perceptible in the trans-
mitted memoirs and records, chiefly in manuscri[)t.
After the Americans came the Latin element decliniMl
to mere subjects for writing, together with the fast
disappearing Indian; yet both figure so prominent'y
and attractively on the pages as to impart a marked
character to them, and they promise to gain in inter-
est as traditional features. Tlie predominating in-
fluence comes, however, from England no less than
from the Atlantic states, and is sustained in all its
freshness by periodicals and books. The Germaii
and Frencli impress is indirect and slight.

The effect of these inflneuceson the two fields of lit-
erature is strikingl}^ revealed in the newspapers, wliic li
by systematically courting public taste, attain the form
of an index to it. The California press, while sensa-
tional and careless in style, gives preference in tlic
odd colunms to sport, science, and art. It presents a
mean between the ponderous and dignified tone of
British journals, and the frivolously bright sheets of
France. Spanisli-Americans cling to the latter, and
indicate their lighter fanc\ bv a demand for feuilletou
novels, althouiih women there take little to news-
papers.

The aboriiifines of North America arc accredited
with a flowery diction, which borrows nmch of its
beauty from nature, and is rendered the more lofty by
an association of striking objects witli deities and
spirits. This is apj)licable to the region southward
only in a limited degree. We behold allusions in

ABORIGINAL.

C53

Quicli^ tradition partaking of a certain eloquence and
nature painting, hut they are crude, and the natives
of to-(hiy reveal a deficiency of imagination. Al-
though the Aztecs and other unniixed tribes are con-
spicuously fond of flowers and of the open air, their
imagery is subdued and stunted, as if the o])])re8sion
of centuries had dwarfed their fancy and restricted
it to minor and immediate objects. Mexicans did not
inherit a umcii wider taste for soenerv from tlie ini-
migrants of the bare uplands of Iberia. Neveitheless,
they are now cultivating tlie descriptive to some ex-
tent. The peculiar climate t)f California, and the
restless activity prevailing there, have also circum-
scribed this class of writing ; but the inspiring variety
of landscape in the sunset land, whicli attracts an
ever growing number of tourists and camping par-
ties, is asserting itself more and more.

Tlie successive supplanting of languages in Cali-
fornia has been an improvement in every instance.
The musical intonation observable in native names
applies only in a limited degree to the mass of dialects
there existing. The smooth flow of Si^anisli is well-
known, however, with its ready assonant riijnie, so
fiivorablo to improvisation ; but it lacks the strength
and expressiveness of the English, which possesses,
moreover, a tuneful iambic rhythm, or cu[)honious
ring, and a flexibility and variety ])erniitting a wide
range for choice between the softer and harsher
words. The displacement of aboriginal dialects was
a gain in many respects. Crude and poor languages
viflded to those of a higher inflected type The sub-
stitution of many tongues for one promoted in
Sj)anish-America a healthful unification among the
r i.'cs, which had so far been held estranged by lin-
;_'\iistic and other barriers, and torn by strife It
promoted intercourse and civilization, notwithstanding
the new obstructions interposed by a narrow state
j>olicy. The introduction of English was a still further
advance, by virtue of its superior qualities, and by

6S4

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

reason of its wide swav. so fovoraMc to the exrlianire
of ideas, to peaceful intercourse, to ])rogress.

The services wliicli the Spaiiisli tougnc alone
has rendered illustrates the advniitaujes of a uni-
versal lamjuaixe. To this we are clearlv driftin<j:,
despite tlie narrow patriotic eftorts in dift'crcnt
directions to increase tlie number of distinct
tongues by reviving many, neglected and decayed,
as in Ireland and Finland. This raising of bar-
riers for the sake of sustaining antiquated national
f )rnis and empty traditions is to obstruct culture and
advancement. It imposes on future generations tlic
burden of mastering several tongues, or confines them
within the limits of less effective forms of expression,
excluding them from free participation in the glorious
revelations of sciences and arts, which seek outlet in
the richest and mo.st wide-spread language. It taxes
and distorts every scrap of needful information by the
trouble, cost, and defects of translations.

Eidightenment will not long suffer such shackles.
A universal tongue nmst in time prevail. Destiny
points to English as the medium of the most progres-
sive peoples, who numerically surpass all other lin-
guistic groups, save the Chinese, holding sway in
North America, Australia, southern Africa and Asia,
and in the island cradle, besides controlling most
maritime centres and districts of the world, the dis-
tributing points for practical culture. Its adaptal)ihty
alike for poetry, narrative, and science is unequallctl
by any other language. With the simplest of grani-
matic structure, it is easy to acquire. Its onlv great
defect lies in the orthogra|>hy, which can readily hi'
remedied, and is fast improving, if not under the rad-
ical ni:'tliod of Pitman's phonetic spelling, at least
under the efforts of societies and lit(^rary leaders to
gradually eliminate useless forms. When remodelled,
it need fear no competititm from such artificial substi-
tutes as Volapuk, of uncouth aspect. The wide sup-
port given by philosophic Germans to this new medium

LANGUAGE.

653

Indicatoi? the grnwinuf streniijtli of tho universal izint;
idea, and sliould stiiaulato Eiiglisli-spoaking peoples
to pusli the necessary reformation of defects, which
are no less hai'assini; and burdensome to them than to
foreign students.

Spanish is unsurpassed for harmonious orthography,
and its value is demonstrated in the purity of diction
among all classes in Spain and America, where even
the beggar speaks correctly, ahnost elegantly. True,
the national character contributes its influence.
Nevertheless, Americanisms have crept in among
tlie colonists, althouiih tliev arc ncarlv all of so com-
mondal)le a ijjrade that tho learned and exact Alaman
advocated their reco<j[nition in Mexico, as consistent
with colonial writing. These innovations are more
numerous in Engli.sh, and indicate in a measure the
rise of dialects, of wliich the lan<'uaLj;e in its insular
evolution has left strangely l)road tracks in so small
and unbroken a country as England. Improved
communication and the increase of schools and news-
papers are fast contributing to the obliteration of
such corrupt and undesirable distinctions. The orig-
inality and practical sense of the Anglo-Saxons account
partly for the growth of Americanisms, as they do of
vulgar but expressive slang. The character of neitlu^r
peo[)lo nor language in Spanish America is favoral)le
to the latter class of inchoate epigram, whether from
classic or common source. CalifoiMiia has beiMi very
free in adopting new words, with her unconventional
and reckless frontier and mining traits, which delight
in expressive and concisi^ utterance. Much is S[)an-
ish, as inculcated and in vo^uc among earlv American
settlers.

Under a comparatively recent development America
escaped the varied iidluence of foreign schools, which
made themselves felt in England as well as Spain.
It confined itself chiefly to one fount, sip[»ing the
clarified essence of manifold distillation. Mexico
und jrwcut, however, a greater degree of buti'eting in

III I

65C

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATLTlE.

style than the ITnitcd States, partly owintjf to the loss
even course of the Spanish language, as compared
with tlie English, since Shakespeare. Yet she re-
mains essentially a copyist of Spanish models, witii an
admixture chiefly from France The United States
accepted a hroader tint, under the influx of Teutonic
and Latin colonists, with which to temper the predom-
inating Britisli standard. California adheres to a ju-
dicious mingling of Anglo-Saxon t^'pes from hotli
sides of the Atlantic. She follows the uuidance of
eastern centers, yet reveals in scenes, characters, and
terms the effect of intercourse with Spanish settlers,
which has not, however, led to any ai)preciable study
of Iberian literature.

Notwithstanding her youth and preoccupation, and
the discouraging competition of eastern literature for
local jmtronage, California has repaid her indebtedness
to universal knowledge with rare promptness and
profusion, revealing the intensity of her intellectual
as well as material development. She; contributed
writers of world-wide fame in nearly all the leadinu-
branches of letters, and assisted to give new direction
to research and thought, fancy and feeling. The last
is instanced in a certain democratic levelling and
irruption on puritanic soberness. Mexico's response
for similar cunmlative inheritance has been very
meagre, considering her age. The cause lies greatly
in an objectionable colonial policy and a disturbed
condition, in too rigid adherence to models, and lack
of earnestness. Yet the United States was nearly
as backward during colonial times, and it is only since
the union war that this country can be said to have
acquired a position in literature commensurate witii
its national importance.

The isolation of the first two decades, prior to the
opening of railway communication with the cast,
favored, in a measure, the local cultivation of letters,
as indicated by the more flourishing condition of
light periodicals. A nmch smaller population sup-

rilYslC'AL CONDITIONS.

G57

supported since tlio early fifties a series of majxazlnos,
provided with illustrations and other costly adjuncts,
while subsequently the only representative periodical
of the kind, in cheaper form, found it ditticult to
subsist, or to offer ailequate inducements to local
talent. Indeed, the three brightest lights of that
j)eriod took flight toward its close to seek and receive
more generous recognition abroad. Facilitated inter-
course with the eastern states turned attention to
the more attractive publications of the other slope, in
the same manner that increased state railways s[)read
the influence of the San Francisco press. The con-
sequent lack of fostering mediums tends to account
for the uncovered gaps since the departure of the
fanciful lights above alluded to. In other directions
strides w^ere made, however, which have attained wide
rei)utation for method, research, and depth, as well
as for magnitude in size and sco[)e.

Aside from the various natural and social influences
which have been pointed out as affecting letters in
California, an element exists in the hiixh avera«'(> in-
telligenco and education of the immigrants, forming
as they do the choice manhood from their respective
countries. The distance, cost, and hardship connected
with migration to so remote a point served to reduce
the proportion of undesirable admixture, and the
general opulence has favored the maintenance of that
standard by permitting a liberal education of the
children. The recent large influx is likewise of a
superior class, in harmony witli the new era of horti-
cultural development so promising for the highest
progress.

The east has with slight variati(ms been the master,
mentor, and light for the west ; but the centre of
learning and domination has been ever moving on-
ward hi the path of the illuminating and vivifying
sun — shifted by the advancing Aryans to the Euphra-
tes, to the Nile, to Greece, to Rome, and thence
north-westward. The late strides of the United

Essays and Miscellany 42

6o8

EAIILY CALIFOUNIA LITKIIATUUE.

States also in literature is already drawiiiiuf the intel-
lectual centre perceptibly from the line so long encir-
cling it in Europe. Here oven Chicago, though t;ir
inland, lias beconio a publi.sliing point df importance.
With the expansion of population the Pacific coast
will in due time assert lier strength and the claims
which she put forth in th.o earlier days of her career.
Her sway promises to assume a vast range, to judge;
from tlie centralizatiou at the Golden Oatc of tradi;
throughout the Pacific, with lines converging from
oriental A.sia, Australia, Spanish America, and tlio
north-west. Into several of these quarters her childriii
liavc penetrated as apostles of ])ractical ])rogress, and
may in future carry also the seeds of a higher culture.

The geographic advantages which establish San
Francisco in her position of mctrop(tlis for the coast,
with the concentration here of its greatest wealth and
patronage, assure also for this vicinity the seat df
letters. Literature and art depend too much on tlie
patronage clustered in largo trade centres to sci)a-
rato from it. Thus New York is rapidly overshadow-
ing Boston. Round the metropolis of California arc
grouped within convenient range all that is most in-
spiring in nature along the entire slope. Additional
interest is vested therein by the enfolding glow of
tradition from a fading Indian race, from a fast mcrj;-
ing Spanish people, and from Caucasian pioneers,
whose advent stands recorded in mighty cnterpri'^es
and transformations in orisjfinal thought and methods.

Such are the sources, precedents, and prosi)ect3
for the now race, which rises to inherit the attributes
and aspirations of its varied and select prototype, and
to be influenced by the electric atmosphere and en-
vironment that gave rise to world-stirring material
and intellectual efforts.

'The linguistic works of padres Cuesta and Sitjar were printed in ISfil
and ISG'i, two score years and more after they were written. CiuMta'j
vocabulary and grammar occupy a volume each. The Smitlisonian puliln.i-
tions embrace al-<o two catechisms by fathers Scrra and (^ilii)t. Soiiiii triiiii-
lations by Zalvadea, and Sarria's iaipressivo sermons, in autograph, arc on
my shelved.

NOTES.

G59

'Tho rnldrlnj; of tlio liiof^rniiliioT in Rnliinsnn's Call/'^rnfn v.is so tnarkod
aa to call forth condiiiiin.itiDii even from native CaliforiiiaiH. Alvurniln, Hist.,
M.S., ii. '-'11.'; / flirt III II'. 1 Xii.r., M.S., S '.), 'I'lm work win I'Voki'il to some ox-
tent liy Mofras' Frciuli hook ami [''nihrs I/i.if. (_''i!., l.S.'J'.t, oonipilol in Mtxico
liy an Kiiglislinian, with a view to call the attention of inn couutryuiun to
tlio ailvaii;aL;i.s of the territory.

'An ailvaiK'i! 'extra' of tlie <\tl!fn-via Sfiir a|)])oare(l on Nnvetnher 1,
1S40, it.s pru.ss li.iviu;,' lieen in operation sini'e Septenilier. It iieven claifnccl
th.it a part of the typo for the .S(tr liatl lieen set at New York in l)ecenilier,
1S45.

'(."olton piildiiheil at New York, in 1S.")0, T/irrn Yrarn in Cnlif'inwi, l'>iik
aii'l /*';'/, and other hooks trc.itinj^ of liis voyago to California anil .sliort
Htay there. The iitteiition they rouscil wa^ ilne not alone to the wnhject, for
tiie treatment M inU.'roUini^ :i\iA the .-style llowing, altiioiigli somewhat iloriil;
the cNa^'^'eration is easily di^lected.

''Among pocti in the /'i'lmir llguro thenainoH of Pollock, Cliaries Ilavons,
Linen, .Mrs Dowmr, .J. Svvett, Soide, and ,1. P. Anthony. In IS04 a woman
named Letter (•oiil.roiiod tiie PiirJJir Mnnt/iti/. Anient,' the jioetic contrilm-
tors \\ere Spro.it, John Tiylor, Tulles, i>orr, .1. J. Howman, llidge, Mr and
Mrs Strong, c litori in ISii.!, and the woim n Page, ("larke, W illmrn, Fader,
and MeDoU'.;;il. Sul)sc(piently lloiirished the Sttii Fniiiri.in) Pirf ,riiil Miv/nziuf,
in tJnly, IS,'),", the weekly Onifiriii in, where Hi'et llarte hegan to shine;
(I 'I'Irii (hitc. in I's.'U, at .Sairamento, Iiy Mrs Mael Unur.il; En'rij f>ii>/ Li/f, in
]S(i7, l>y .Mr* Wright; llownril Quarln-bi, in A))ril, \^iu, hy a religio-literary
Koeiety; J.iii/ii.t' and trrii/lniini'.f A/injiiziin', in 1S()'.I, of Very small size;
B'l-Mrynn, in 1872, liy the literary .societies of the univcr.;ity; Brrblitj
i^i/iirti-ilii ol lf<W), from a .simihir source, lint devoted to social science;
Oiikliiiiil Miiiilldn llffiiir, 1.S7.'{; I 'iili/nniiiiii, ill June 1870, a name afterward
adopted for the (h-'riniil, and nsoil for a time

••The first San Francisco directory of IS.'iO contained ahont 3,000 names,
Many ad lres-ie< refer to mere tents and shed;; a staiF of poliei-'iieii are n;-
Corded, half a do/iMi expre<s ofliees, four plieei of eiitertainnien:, including
a ' IJuU Fighting Arena,' .seven places of wor.shii), and the same .lumher of
new. piper 1. S.UTaniciito i^ iied it* smaller <liructory in January ISi")!, and
Stockton and othiT jdaees followed in due time.

'The disiriiuina'ioii shown in tlie hiograpliies of The AniniU <;/* Sun Frtnt-
rwrogavoii o to the chief local criticMsm. The numerous illustrations are
generally good and the whole a]ii)earance is fair, lieyoiid what San Francisco
eoiild at tliat time produce; the book wa.s is.suiMl at New York. Of tlio
tlireo autli'irs, on the tiih.' jiMge, Frank Soule. John M. (lihon, .M. D., ami
James Ni diet, the latter ap]«'aM to have pie[).ired the historic part. Ho
was liorn at (ila-gow, ScoLl.ind, when; he practi-ed law, wrote a novel, and
lent his money in specul.iti )ii. In IS.'i'J he sought California and was hero
engaged on the ])re*s, ranking as an able and worthy journalist. He per-
ished in IS,;,") wi.li tiie Br-'lhi r ,1 iii-i/'nin on tlic way to Victoria, V. I.

"Rea l!ir;-rooiiis were foundc 1 jirior to IS.'iOand sm.all collections of hooks
existed in several (piartors. In t'l.it year the legislatui'o pas.sed a hill for a
state I'.hrar;. ('<i'. J mi: Srii., I s.'i ). ji. i:!10, vU'.. In KS."),j its law dept was
a feature, C i!. SMiifi:->, !'<.")■"), )ip. 1 17, -C>~, when steps were taken for a special
law lihrarv. <^il. J mi: Ai^s., IS.").'), pj). .S7.")-(), IKVi. The S.in Francisco law
li'irary mvu opened to the piihlic in 1870. Cil. S/.,tiif..^. 1S(>'.» 70, 2'A't 8. The
Mcrcanfle I.ihr.irv Assoc, of Sacramento took tlielead in ojiening a general
])uhlic lihrarv in l'"eliniary I.S.")1. A course of lectures wa.s arranged to aid
the struggling eoneeni. 'Sn: Ti-iii.-i:-n)<f, Fch. It, 1S")1. Tlu! well known
mercantile libra'"}' of San Francisco, although organized only in .Ian. 24,
]8,")H, datci properly from 18.")1, when the disbanding committee of vigilance
contributed a con.sider.able collection of books tor iiuidic use. Blnxoine,
Coin. Vii., MS., 10. gaveTiO'i vo1m?iio<. This wa<tlie niulens for that library.
.9. F. Alia, Dec. 24, IS.-.'i. (.'oii.'eniiiig legt lative aid. seeCei. Jour. Sni., IS.'i;},
C49. The first aunuoil rcpurl may be consulted in 1854. Hunt's Maj., xxxiii.

coo

EAIIIA rALFlOIlN'IA LITr-niATUI'.K.

ni7-22; Mfre. Lih. AitAnr. Hrpori^; .<?. F. Alt>i, Jan. II, ISM, ^^ar. 20, 1855
A nit't ccdurert providi'd fiiiuls for llio lino iicw l>uil(liii>< iTfi'tcil tor u iii
\S,{), Cil, l.iliiiiiii ■i Si-iii]i^, \K ;< ct s('(|. li.itrr it tlfililioil, and tlii' liHi.'ri'i->c
jiliit- WIS t.ikcMi iiy tlif Mix'liaiiifH' Institiiti; LiUriiry, oryaiii/.rd in is.'.V
'riKM)dd Fl'IIowh" l^iUrary, fnrniL'd in 1>S.")4, ranks tliird. 'I'lio Vrcv J.iliriu\,
lie iii.mgnril stops fur wliicli wcro licj^nn in I.S77, is IiumcviT ftiit (iiiiitnii,
ping ti>tnii ail iindur tiiu ^unurons aiil cxtiMidtMl from puliiio fiimls ami uoiilii-
liiUioiis, A nninliur of minor collti'tions prrtain to dill'iiviit Hucictlci,
as Young Mi'ii's Ciirist. Assoc, ( 'al. riom-ers, Aciduniy of Sciuniv,
t!i(' Military Lilirary. S. F. Vorcin, tlui Kri-ii'li, lixistiiig sinco IS.JIt, Aitu,
Jan. 5, ISoU; tlio Spanish, of rcrcnt yoar.s.

In addition to a review of works liy Americans, it may Iw of intcrost to
>,d.'iiii-n at tlio early books and nianiiseript^ ou Ainoriea, paiLly froiii i u; la-
llueiico exercised liy them ovtjr it. A.s tine of the turning points for proji'.'cv,,
III giving a signal impulse to voyages and enterprise, to eoii'iuest U!id Mettli!-
iiUMit, America imparted aUo zest and direction to wriling, especially on lli.j
aciiiiiveinoiits niunlioned. The productions .speedily hccamo iimiieroiM aa I
striking eiioiigli to awaken a thirst for wider reading and for eUlioratioiH i i
otiier liranclie.s of literature, even in epic form, l>y virtue of einulatioa an 1
n^sponsc to demand. Historian;* and liiograpliers were stimulated to plim
tieforo the reader the iiiciilents ami heroes of the New World. Ncieiiiiiii:
men were stirred by the novelties hero unfolded. I'octs were inspired I y
scenes and feats tif arms. I'hilosophcrs an<l theologians found food f.ir
thought and speculation in the revelation under strange conditions of a mw
race whoso hcnighted intellect invited friars and priests to mission work,
and to Jidvoeacy of their caiiso against rapacity and oppression. The ciuiivli
<lclighted in so vast an addition to ita fold, as an otlset for the inroads of
tlie Alahominedans and protestants.

>So aluorliing was the interest in tlio New World that few of the liooiii
pulilishcd during the sixteentii century failed to rel'cr to it in some dignc.
Tiio number was not large, for the days had not yet arrived of a pre-.-,,
wiiich, altiiougii encroaching so much on all branches of literature liy its
eclectic collection, has intensilied llio taste for reading and increased tliu
monthly publication of books by t''e thousand.

Publications on America, bcgi ing so soon after the discovery of print-
ing, serve to illustrate the pri gress of the inanufaeturing art, fnim
block anil black-lett(!r to script ami modern typo; from plaijuette and paivli-
ment-Iiound books, and imnderoiu folios in wdoden covers with da-ji , in
elegant cloth, paper, and varied bindings of to-day. It is a change in li.ir-
mony with tlie tlevelopment from simplicity ami .striving for tlioruuginn--,
to superficial gloss and smattering; the latter enforced indeed by the cxiimi-
sion in numlter and range of branches to be studied, and the other by t'»^
growing artiliciality of intercourse.

Only four original works on America are known to liavc been printcil in
the liftoentli century, namely, two letters of Columbus, dated 14!>;{, one nt'
wiiioh underwent a number of translations and rei)riiit.s; a letter to .Syllacii,
one of Columbus' companions, printed about 1494; and a jiapal bull of 1 1'.'^!.
Tliey are all in the form of jyliti/iiMfin, or small thin pamphlets without covcis
printed in black letter. 'I he originals are exceedingly rare and of great
value aa specimens of early printing.

In 150:5 some pa]>al bulls relating to America were published; in b'O." a
letter of Columbus describing his fourth voyage to the tifrnifiniie. In tnn-
oral the few printed narratives of his voyages had a very limited cireiil itinii.
Between loOi- 8 appeared over a score of different editions of Americo \'c~|iui>
ci's MhikIiih Norn--<, describing his third and fourth voyages. The iiL'i"in
stumbled upon by Colnmbus were supposed to be part of .lanan and la'ii.i,
but here was evidently another country, sufficiently large ana im])ortant to
be called the New World. This nmsed greater interest in the di^civciv,
and aatiisted to procure a wider circulatiuu fur Vespucci's rcpurtij tiiau i><r

NOTKS.

661

thnae of tlio crcat .idmiral, tn^nthnr with tho ftppliration of his namo ti> tim
ilisi'oviTy. A I'lilliMtiiPii lit' Ills Idur vnyiims jiuimmiicI in l."i()7 itinl hiiIi.m;-
(jiifiitly. Ill lolO (iliilit-Mi priiituil III! aiHuiiiiit (it ;i ^iiijivvroi'k liy ii vnyagiT to

tllU liltillllll.S.

In l"ill tlio lirst liccailc of i'ctcr Martyr iiinn'ared in two oiiitiuiH.
'riinje (lecaiUi wi'rc isNiuil ill l.'iKl. 'I'lif connilftc eight dicaihis wti" lii',t
|iiilih.slu:il ill I.').'!!). 'rr;iii>latiiilis ami rt']il'iiits nt (lart.s nr total wtit! fri'i|iii'iit.
Martyr's Ojjifw Kfii.i/iliiiiiin, of over M)(> li'ttur.-i, w a.i liist iniiitfil in ITiliO,
Tlii'M^ two Works were tiu; fhiuf hoiirfo for uouipili'i's (luring the ciiitiiiy.

Tho I'toli'iiiy '/m)//v(;i///'i( ipf ir)i;t |iri:scntiil :;() IKW iiiaip^. Miui-o's .V^/i.k
<lr <;,if/rfili'i tii l.'ilK yavi; [lorsonal oUstrv alioin on Aiiici iia. 'I'l.i^ Ithn rni-ht
of (irijalva'i vnyagu to Yucatan lnar.s ilatu l,V_'(), in t\\o versions, liy |)ia/,
iiml liy an anonyinou.s writer. In l.'C'J lliu famous l!i lii<-U>iii>t iii ( 'ortes he-
gan to apiiear; a letter in \ erse t(; stir hy romantic iiKideiits a fre.di erxite-
iiieiit in regard to the New Woi'ld. The ueliieveinent.s of J'i/airo, as iiariatecl
ill his letters after l.'iIi.S, added to the llaiiiu. A letter ill ver.-,e hy tin! ini-
faiiKiiis I'ediaria.s l)avila was [)i inted in I.")!!.''* coiieerning events on tin; I'anaiiia
istiiinns. Oviedo'.s Ih la Xn/iirnl //!■■</ iri'i (/<■ lii.i linliii'* liiars iii ^u'lit Toleilo,
l.'i'JI). The lirst part of his lli<l iri<i(l<ui ml tlv lii'< lii'l'iati dn\ xuti t i ;';e light
till l.");)."). The only eoinldete edition thereof eame out only in i •.M ."> in
four folio voliiines. One of the two jiajial hiilU of l."):!() urgeil on ( liarles \ .
tin; eoiivorsioii of the Jndiain 'hy foree and arms if li 'liiul, in order
that their souls may partaki' of the iieavenly kinudoiii.' <'iie of tin; earli-
est specimens of American typography was a iilai|Uetto oi loll d >eri' )iig
tlie terrihie enrtlnjiiako in ( Juatemal.i. Aiioiit tiiis lime letters itgaii to
piiiir ill f' i!,i 'lie I'lissioiiarii'S tieating of all the varied MiKjcet-. ol interest
ill the colonies, which found ready ciiciilaUnu in special and i , llccicd form.
These works iiilluciiccd not alone local investigations ami hiii]iIi iiecouiits,
I'll! they started ill Miirope also a deairo for iunuiry ami txploriiioii in
similar lields hitherto neglected.

•Vfti^' l.'ioO hooks on the Pacifie states tirritories increased rapidly.
Among the most prominent were l..as Casas' treatises on the J)i.</riii-/lnii ,./
till- liiit'ic'i, that is, the maltreatment of the natives of lo.VJ. His ciiief works,
X\\c IHstni-hi i/i- //((//'a.v, existed until recently only ill m.iiiuscii]it copies; of
which I useil one The nature of his advocacy and the .severity of liis
charges hroiight forth numerous replies, as .Sepiilveda's A}xili>'iiii, and ga\e
rise to speculation on the rights of ahorigines, and on the value of Amerii a
to the ehui'cii, and its inlliicnco on European nations.

GiMiiara's Hi<ti>ii'i ilc Mi.riro and HlMniiii (Icnrinl ilr Ins JihUhs vvrc printed
ill several (editions hctwceii I ."i.")'-' i, followed in time liy a hcoie more. Heii-
zoiii's lli-ttiiriit (hi Mmilo A'«"/'" of l.'iCi.j ohtaiin'd likew ise .sever. il rcjirints
and translations, and .served to atlirin the iinfavoralile idea of Spanish grecil
and cnudty. Iloetor Monardes' lliMoritt Miihrhnil of the .same date va.s
completed in 1574. C'olunihu.s' liiography liy his son reached -several editions
alter \'~,\, under the iiiere;ising demand for liiograjihy, cmluaciiig heroes
like Cortes and I'ix.arrn. In l.")S7 J'.dacios' ///si'/v/ciV'./; A""/''/''! ,ip[M aieil to
guide navigators in West India M'aters, and Ortelius' geo<;ra]ihical work.
Two years later Aeosta's Dr Xntura Knv'i (>Hili, followed in l.'i'.H) hy his
JfMoriii i/r Icis fiiiliit.i, hiith of which received wide circulation in dillcnnt
forms and languages, and tended to ]iromote a jihilisojiliie impiiry into
American resources and allairs. The aiipfiaranci; in l-'ilKiof I'adiUa's history
of the provincia of Santiago in Mcxii'o was the signal for the periodic ; uhli-
cation of the priestly chronicles which constitute the most imiiortaiit histori-
cal writings durina the following two centuriiM.

Of voyage collections, so numerous in later times, tlve njijicared in the
sixteenth century, licginning with the f/ihrclto ih' tiittit l(iXnr/;/iifiiiiii of l.'Oi
hy N'ciccllese, now disaii)iearcil; the Pdv.u Nini.i'iiciitc n frmt'i/i hy Moiitla-
haddo, I.")()7; the A'^(i*''w ^>/7</.-i hy Huttich, jirefaee . hy Oryra'iis, l.").S"2, which
is founded on the preceding. i?oth recidved several reprints ai'il translation.
-Ml throe were fragmentary in their iuformatiou as compared \ 'Mi llaniusio's

iL'l

GC2

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

ijitt'r'.tli

(t V

\',m'.\, ami I. ">.■)!(, n

iu tliri'L' liulky folio voliuiiu-i, wliiili apiioircd in I."."0,

,:tlMi\

iclato.i wholly
Oviiilo, ( '(irLc-

illKl 01 Slll)M'i|lH'll., fllltlollS.

TIk! hist V

Ollllllf

to tlu; Nt^w \Voilil, aiiil toulaiiii siiiiiiiiariu-i Irom IVler

.1 oil

lur coiujiioroi'.s ami l'.\|uoi-ui'

iXMl to I,)

irlsr,

II' ^( L

ailiiiiralily iiriutfil ia closu ohl style Mack-k'iti/r, \\illi maps and illii.stia-
tiuiis, ami loiiiis oiu; of tin.' most vahialilcof (■(plloctioii.s. At tlio liiiii of thu

itiiry, ill I.V.m ItiOO, aiiptarcil tlir f:i

Kngli

1 ooiripLatioii of llakhiyt,

ill ihruu voliiiiiu.s, lliu hist dovott'd to Aiiii'i'ica. It adds to ^flections fiom
Uaiiiiisio a luiiulii'r of later explorations and voyages, uotaldy by Draku
and ('aiidi>li. and dated as late as lo'.)7.

Tlieso coUecLion.s of voyages are a new foiin of the eyelopedie works

c'osnio^'rapliy

iiiii

1 universal liisto

Several of th'

had h.

■en \\ lit ten

ilore tlie invention of printing, had lieeu rewritten and fiuiiished \\[{\\
notes and additions at fiecpieiit intervals liy ditleieiit editors, and tiie .--aine
eustoiii was eontiniie 1 after tiie printing-press had superseded the pen in the
iiiiill iiilieation of copies.

The U'.KS edition of I'oniponiiis Mela's ])i Orl.i.i Situ is said to have lu t n
the lirst of this elass to iindude the iS'c'W ^\'orld. The J'.iii ids of >-alielliiii>,
and the !)<■ iliroliUihus of Albertini follow in \^,M .">. The Sii].]ilriii(ii/iini

the New World in lotW, and li n

C/i

'iriiiiii'iintiii o

f li^

ergoiiias lugaii to me

itioiis followed heforo IGOU. My copy of l,">K!has only a short paraL'i

thai

1 halt a
d

insiilis m mdui extra orhen iiiiper inueiiti

lage, on America,
1,1

■V"

([uariiior p n.axiiuis

Mallei's eominentaries wire often r<pnlilislied hitween ITOii and If) 14.
The Cii.siiini/niji/iiiv. liilnulitcfio of Hylaeoinylus, or Wahl-See-Miiller, of wliuli
fonr editions appeared in l.")(>7, contains the lirst printed account of the lii 4
and fourth \oyages of Vespucci, and the fir.st proposal to name the New-
World Amerieu.

Pt(demy's ' Jeograjihy (if l.'iOS had the first engraved map in which any
part of America was shown. 'J'he name America was first u-ed, in accord-
nice with the suggestion of lIy!:;coiiiyhis, in the (liiihiin Muiitli, priiiti

Sfrashourg in iriO'.t.

Til

ti nil

name \\ as lir.st used on a niiip in (he h

A fSolinus-t'amers of lulIO, while the lirst protest against the u>e of

that name is hclicveil to have heeil iu Schoner's ( ipnsriiiiiui of \')'.\\\.

ic cosmogra[iliical writings

>f Ap

ami ol

Minister from loll, are the rciiKiining voiks of this class, which 1 find
resciilcd liy most frciiuent editions ciii my shelves.

"1'

Of the h

Nch

l.")l-J, l)r y^itum. A

list of similar vnrks may lie noted tun Cosniograpliy of

nsis, lilts, I^udd's i*>;>'

<)ri,i.<, ITiOT, thi^ ('//

iniiiiciiii o

/'////rWM,,/,

il-nrUIII

oritz' a

l.y Allicrtus Magnus, \'^\\, Reiscli

f El
M

'/i-'iji/i/'i

1."

'"';/'

inlii

line's /.vo/c ll,l MlllllIlK I.VJS,

WiWiiirli, l,")l!;t, the l.j'ihiiiiv of N'adiaiuis, \W.\\, StiiiilKOM'l.s ('///

iririini'i, I. !.).>,

-Rose

Sph,

\y.\-, Di

is' Celestial Orhs. I.")!!!, tiie work of Fris

l)c Silii l/rl'if and
111 Astronomy, lol I, of
(ilireanuM on (ieography. irill, lloiitcr's Rudiments of Cosmograpliy, l.'illi
Many others were imlilishcd during tlie last half of the ecntiiry. The lii-t
printed mention (>f America in tin; Iviglish 1,'iiiguage is supposed to he in
Rraiit's S/iii}>)if if /•'i.i/(.s- of l.'iOO. '1 he New ^\■o|■ld is also mciitioiicd m t'
A'l /'■ /,(/' r'li
ahout l.V_'u'.

' /r of l.")ll and lo'-'O, and iu a treatise on the A'<

lis ri

Ahout one hundred ailditional hooks, in nmre than one hundred and tifiy

idilions. issued in l^urojie during the sixteenth eentiiry, eoiitain moi

less extended notices of the Nc« •^^'orhl, drawn from

'I'lie list liegins with a collection of treatises and letter.s of 11

inal or coinp

•d

Canon Ortiz; two orations hy (^aivajal ami .Mmeidr, of lll);i. Indeed, tlun)
is hardly any class of puhlieaticis during tlu; period not re])resented in tho
list of those containing menti(.i. of .Amcriei. The newly found land, v ;ih

ill its liclongings, was a marv

L'11-nigl

I a miraele,

to tl

le mhai'i-

tants of Europe. .Such in.';ition was often attached to orations of
and to serniousj to suieatili^; treatises, as by Lilio iu M'Jli; to dramas,

;iiiy

la--*

NOTES.

663

isrliius,

iriiiinta

'l.VJS,

f 7ir"iii''ii.

//v illi.l
."ill, ol

,'iH).
(■ lir.-fc

I.' lu
111 tl..!

liny
iiii|iilt'il

r.i:!, i>y

1, llll'lO

in tl;i!
,1, wall
inli.'il'i-
V cla-^s
■as by

Stamlcr in ir)OS; to Soncca's tragoilios in I.jIO; to p.uu'uyrios, an liy Sohra-

ill I'll 1 : to p-

as liv Catiiiieo in l.")ll; (Hiistiiiiaiii's oditioii nt tli

i's.ilti'r ill ir)l('>; to a roinaiK'c l)y Oviodo in lol'.l; to tiiu travels ot Mario
I'oio in l.")VlS; to woriis (in syiiiiillitie ailiiuMitu ill ITiIil t-t soij. ; to tiio Iftturs

if TritlKMiuH ill l."il>li; tl

til

e aiiii.iU ot variolic

urniH'aii <.'oiiiitru'.

leruiit aiithni-s; to truatisus on naviiiatioii am

iif-

iinliii' ilirci'tioii-t ill l.'il4ot

si'i].; anil to ni(liiiu;iitary treatises on eosniogi'a[ihy ami other liraueliea of
seioneo ami art.

|)uring tlie latter half of the sixteciitli eentiiry papal liiill-, laws, onler.s.

iml instnielions iiiti

Iti

coiiiliih'i

il l.'i

the \il' (• ?•■<■ /,(

i/'.i (>1

lot:! form llie tirst of the elas.s relatiiis,' to Ameriea, .■illhoiii;h the (tnli w>iii,i.i

for tlu) CiiMi ill' (.'oiifrii/.i

if lolT were I

ir^t ]irii[i>. r e

illeeti

Vic

Meii(lo/,a's <>riliiiincii--< // ( 'njiilnri in ih: Li i/r.'i, of lois, was the lir-.t honk of la

pi'in

Leil

was issued at Mexi

"«

:i'is ' 'iihili.^ extern

Th
tory 1

lit l.)t>, was uie ur-.t lionic <ii liiwa

l.s tile eolieetion to l.'ii).!, when it

if J'liii'inas, N'n.lo, .\L;iiilar,

iijiilili-inii lit; fiii/ri.-i (if lli^l.
jveiiteeiith eeiitlliy opens a|i|ini|iriateiy witii the tir>t j,'eaeral his-

Pllielo, aiiil Cilnlova, preee(le(l the t:

le eoni]iiIations

llllOUS

lUDIishei

I on Ameriea, the lli<ttriii <l

ili/ii /•<.■>' /(r.7/ii.-( i/i: I i.i a t.^l' ILiniti

n l<''< /"I i< 11 tl rni jiriiii' ili'l M'lr Omiiiit, hy Antonio du llerrera, elironielor
(if the liing of Spain, issued in lliOI-lo, and .siihseipieiitly in four (piarto
volnnies, and forming the tirst general history piiMished on AiiiiuMea.

'ronpieni ida s Miii'irr/iin lir/iiiin a\>\ti.'iii\'i[ in ltli;{ in tliree large volumes.
It is a rielier .store house of iiUormation on the indigonou.s trihes oi" .\iiii!rioa
tliaii had lieforo lieen printed, together with the history and dcseriptiou of
the eonntry.

lomas (>ai.

rill !> II nil' !i of till' d'r.s/ Iiiilii's, the first I'^iiglis

lUIlt of

W(Mterii atl'airi, was lirst )iriiit('d in lli4S. .Mthoiigli somewhat e.xaggeratcd
ill tone, and severely eritieised hy eatiiolie writers, I regard (lago a:i tlie best
writer on Ameriea ii)) to his time, and for a hniidied years later.

lioturini gav(!, in IVKi, suggestions coiueruiiig sourees and metiiod for a

new history of .Vmeriea in his A/i

may have |irov('d of valiu

to Ml

in pre[i iriii.; the lf!<tiriii ilil Xm r) Miiiiil i, which stoli|ied with the lir^t Vnl-

iim 'in 1 1

\l'Xi.

oliert>on's attr.ieiive Jli-'furi/ nf Ami ririi eame out in

!Mi.

Among llot.ihle sectional histories from wiiieh the general ehroiiieler.s

were sup|i.ised to eiiU mos

st of their information,

lid mention a r.ire

(1 forgotten little
lagri's Ui<t iri I dr lu \i
in epic form, wliioli is exeeediiigly valuahle as tiie foundation of the history

ik, almost niikiiown to iiistoiiins, (laspar de Vil-

r I Mi.nri), ili I ( 'iipitua d^i.^jnr ,/,• 17// (,//•■/, uiri I'J/O,

if N,

li'r..'ii,

I th<

rioi

X'i/i''i'i.-i !H<t iri'ili ■
Irihit.is II'kI irii iinnriil ilr /.m i ninisfn.-i ilil ninr-i /'■ i/ii'i ili (,'

Isthmus and ad joining reiximi relate Ti

./,(

and a large iiumUer of trii'ts n^speeting the famous Seot's colony at l)ariei
which liciian to a\)pe.ir in Ili'.IK.

Staehlin'.s

.\'i,iirirli/- II, 177ti

He,

malualile for the lii.story of Alaska.
In \C>',V2 was |ire-ented the so-ealleil true ver-ion of tiie history of t'ortes'
con(|nest in the lli<tini Vi nl'i'lini oi lieriial l»ia/. Kifty years later Solii
issued his less reliahle aeeonnt in tiie //i.i/uriii i/c In I'miiiw^l'i, wiiich, aeeepted

(lei of ele^.'l

passed through more editii

d translations iliai

perhain any other lli<paiio-.\merieaii standard work. .\ sci|iiel to it wa.s

[iiihlisiied in 174'{ hy Sala/.ar y Olarte, in the most exti

of intlateil (hin-

'I'iie defects of these writers were renie(

lied

avigero s SI irin

Ailtli'n ilrl .]['.'isli'ii, IT!^)) ' in 4 volumes, which eovers the eoiiipie.st a-; Well as
ahnriginal annals and customs, and treats tli(J siilijeel with admiralilo com-
iiion sense.

To t!

s class p(>rtaiii ilu^ inissinnary cliron

to which till! authors re-])eetively

,•1.

Av< ,,f th
W'ritti

10 iireviiUTs or onler.s

,itli a iiai\i! !'( li

■al and faitli, facts siili'i r soiiiewli.it. yet with experience the sifting heeoincii

■i<y.

A 1

irire nnmoer have reac

hed

sheh

es in the miinu^cript loriii Ix

voiid which they failed to ])a-^s. Kirst on the li-t stands 1 i.ivila I'.iddla'.s
llidiifia (/(■ Saiitiiiijo ile J/i.'.voi, of l.V.)0, rovisud in l&2o; litinciiais Hi.ii<jriu de

664

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITERATURE.

S. VinrrMf fifi Chi/npn y OuntcmnJa is a very rare and valuable record, printed
in 1(5 IS). I'viciitu .s wiirk on tlio order of >San Aiigii.stin in Micluiaoiui, and
(irijalva's Vrniiifa lie ii nviifii de A'. P. S. Aiitjusliu ilc la nn'ra E-:}uuiii, liuai
date l(Jl!4. A Latin clironicdu of the Franciscan order was puiilisliud m
Europe in lG'_'o. Jji/ana's Yucatan appeared iu KiHi, and in Hili.") and lOlJJ
cauic two lirnniele!! of the /'ruriiiclit i/c S. Pcliii 1/ S. I'dl/ln in .Micluiacan,
hiitii surpassed iiy Beaumont's ('nmirit ilc MwIuhioui, wiiich lias only iuc( nlly
s<eu the press, after I liad secured a manuscript copy. Tlic Jlislirid i/c log
Tri/i>ii})/ii).i, iiy Ril)as, Kilo, is une of tlie I'arest of the series, aud rilales
chictly to the .lesuit missions in nortliwcst Mexico. Au<li'es clc < iuadahipc's
I'roiHKcia di' I'M Aii;/i-ks ilates from Ititi'J. liurijna's I'ulcM.ro J/iilnrinl and
(''''>:/>' 'jii'n JJifscrijiriDii, of 1G74, are very rare, aud tlio standard authoriticj,
especially on tiie early liistory of Oajaca.

To the eighteeutli century belong tiie missionary chronicles of Vas(picz
on ( Jiiatemala, 1714; Arlcgui, Vliniii'cd ilc Zacntccn.i, \~t'M\ Espinosa's ( '/(rod/rif
Ap-^dolirii If Siriipliint ilc. loilo.f log ivlii/ios i/r /'riijiiv/itiii/d Filv, 174(1, cdutinucd
in Arricivitas Vmiiiat dc (Jncn/'irn, IV'.l'i; N'enegas' Natifia di-. In Cdli/orniii, .'J
vols, 17")7; tile yl;(()sCoftv( yly^o/c.s of the ciinii>auy of Jesus, 17(58; accounts hy
Haegeit and others on Lower California missions; I'alou's Jicltirion, or life of
Juiinicro Scrra. founder of tlie missions of Upper California.

I)i,i/. dc! la < 'alles Mi'iimr/id y Nn/ici'i.-t, 1040, is a statistical handbook on
New World affairs. The Ejiitn/iic Siiui'irio, Kioit, rclatt's to the Mexican iti-
quisition. Oil (ion/ales Davila's 'J'cilro Lrlisi^uUri, I04!l, narrates the li\es
(if early church dignitaries, and constitutes a valualde history of early
church ati'airs in America. In 1007 appeared (iaroia's famous Orijiii dn Ion
//((//'/.-.' (/(' (I Xfitn Afiiiid I, in which he aims to present all the theories enter-
t^iiued on tlie origin of t!ie Jiidians. The siime (piestion was weighed dur-
ing the century by (trotius, De Laet, Horn, Spi/elius, Wagner, aud in the
following century notalily by l>e I'anco. It is fully reviewed iu my A'f^/w
/i''"'».«, V. Solorzano Pereiia's great juridical work /)r IndhirDin Jrrr, waspuh-
lidu'd iu 10;i!). Moutemaya ilo Cueuea treated on repartimientos in lii<
7>/.vv/'.s-o PiiHUcn-lii-itnrirn-jiiridii'i. 1 0.'iiS.

The swelling bulk of the .American sections iu the world-descriptiou.s of
the old eosmogra])hical works so nuiuenuis during the past century, and still
]>ublislied to s(un(^ extent, suggested a series of compiled works devoted
purely to the New World. Tliey ariMimtint old vfdumes, generally in black-
lelter and tjuite l>ulky, with maps and numerous wood cuts, and engravings
of monsters and abnormities. Aiuoul; them may be iianieil l",ns' history of
the \\'est Indies, the Wr.-^t mid < i.it /i,di<r/„r J.iisf'jnrt lOlS; the Kovi fi/J'i.-<
Fnnifiicf.'t ii'irii/ir/m \nr() (>rl,i.-< of I'hiloponns, 1021; tlie ITr-sC Iiidt'sclif S]>i' /lul,
1()-J4: (b.ttfriedt's AV»^ Vilf. lOIll; l>e L.u'f.s A'nws' 0/-/,;>., 10:«: D'Avitv's
Ac yfitiidf, 10.'17; Ogilby's Aiiii'i-int, ami Di' Xti'iiiiv I'll Oiihfhniili' Wii'i-cld of
-MontaniH, a fine old Duteli work, clearly ])rinted ami elaboi-ately illustrated
1071. The profusely illuminated works of I)octors IIernafid<!Z and la-asmus
Frauciseus on American botany arc ami>ng the curious relies of the seven-
teentli century. 'J'liis class and their prototypes, with (piaint illustrations,
diminisli rapidly after 17<X). Voyage collections continue in favor.

JIulsins, i>c Hry, and Purchas are the most noticeable of the seventeenth
century. altlioni,'h all of tliem, so far as our teri'itory is concerned, are re-
markable for tJK'ir rarity rather than for their intrinsic im])ortanee. Tlie
work of 1 )e Ri'y is a series, rather tlian a collection, of voyages to the I'ast
and West Indies, pnblislie(l in both Latin and (ierman at irregular iiitcr\als
from l.')'.tO to 10!!4, in liastily rehashed editions, culled from the readiest source,
with illustrations drawn from fancy to tit the narrative. The series is
divided by tlie sizes of the voluiiiiM into ' great ' anil 'little' voyages, tlic
lirst alone relating to the West Indies or tlie New W.irld. The engiaviiiga
were of a hii^h artistic order however, and assisted to sustain the mania lor
forming com]ih'te s(>ts of the work.

The Ihilsins collection, Sliniiiidiiii'i vnii Sfrfi uiid Zii'"iizi:i Sfliiff<dirtri), is a
similar series dating from 15'J8 to 1050. Its text is considered more accu-

NOTES.

666

ratcly edited tlian Do Rry, and a complete set is also of greatrr rariiy.
Aslior liiis devoted a vdIhiiu; to a lidiliognndiical essay on HuIbiiis, and I'aiiiiis
lias done tlie same for l)e IJry.

(Jf J'rrc/iu.i Ids Pil'jriiiiin :in edition was tml)lislicd in 1514, liut the com-
li'te ami now rare edition in live large folio voli'.iiies appeared in loLT) (j.
>iiriug tlie last (juai'tor of tiii; century lugan tlie narratives of the voyages

of Liissan, Sharp, I (ampler, Wafer, and tiie long scries of liueeaiieeis wi
infested tlie Spaiiish-Ainerieaii waters, (temelli Carreri's O'iro <l<l Mumlo,
ineluiUng a viiit to .\lt;.\ieo, was puldislunl in Hi!)!),

arratioiis of voyages round tlie woi

Id, and in the northern 1'

icilic

are

iiumeroui and imporlant during tlie following century, imlmliiig \\ Oode

Kogi

1718; Siielvoeiie, 17-t); Anson, 171S: liitagh, 17r>7: Coo!;. V,

I'arkinson, 17S4; I'ortlock and Di.xoii, 17MI; M

eaic>

17!I0: Van

rciiner,

171)S; and La rerun so, I7'.*S. Collections of similar accounts aie acKudin

more numerous, if not more important, than formerly. The Ha
linii, in two folios was piihlishcil in 170."); a A'l

rri

ugly
.lice-

small volumes wa

printed in 1707 liy I'ietcr van

uiiil:iuriij( I I i-^dii.i tiiir/ \\\ thirty

ir Ail

iiiii rt till (iiucii m

(Jottfriedt's (iermaii collection in four folios in 17-7. The Clnin I

ind

ilarleian collections, forming together ten folios, vcre is.-ued in l7-lo niid

1751'. Drake

a|)pearc

d in 1771; Forster's in ]~Hi; Iki

n 17SS; and the Spanish I

.1 J'.

Idi/rri)

'/ in 4S vols ill 17'.M). J havi

over, a score of minor collections piililishe<l ihiriiig the century in dittereiit
languages, for the most part without the name ot editor or colhitor. Ad-

■ f 10'

tram-lat.

juncts to these are Linage's A'o/Vc tir Caiilii

J\nglish in 1 700 as the S]hiiiish J'ltli' of Trmli, and Cahrcra I'ueir

into

lv<)i<'<uiilir I Pritil'ii"! printed at Manila in 17IU. and vhieh includes a

kind of Coast rilotof the western coastof North AmericJi

Aiiti

veilo s niemori

al on lh(^ commerce of the Jndi

illa->enor y Nancliez

ipear

d in 1'

'■ y Al

'ilrn

I nici'ii'diii).

tical character

find

]74(i, is fif a gcegra)ihie-slatis-

s more eonei.'-e ami e(

rriiiiinrio (rri);ir"jii'o-JI/.if(l

umpleti

torm III

rsCi 0, in .") voluiiK s. Leon y'uwUi't^ E) ifoinr

(A III /ii'ill 'tliicd, Itil'O, in three volumes is the earliest attempt at Aim lican
l)il>liogiai>liy. Ahi/i'sd'ii'itn.i i/r Litrrnturn. ]7'.l(>-4, luarksan ejioch in Mi .\ieo,

d the same may he said of the Viizil".-< ili Mi

1>'

dical sii

egiin in 17>*^4 as

4'J volumes

miliar

s very rare

V of events, and continued till 1M.'1. This valuahle set of

few

Many of the ])receiling piihlications may he recognized as the]ir(iiliict of the

iresses existiiii' in the Is'ew \Verlil d

iiriug

tlh

emanations from this source eoiiNi>tei

jireccding cMitiirie:

Th^

liowe\er, 111 eat( chi.-m^, ritual

dml

iries, calendar

■I'll

hit

oils ot the severa

1 rel

]}

logr.iiiliiea

igiollsori'ei>
I.,

Ithelik

dii'tehes of American priests and missionaries liegiiiiiing jier-
liaps with the life of Cordova y ]5ocaiiegia in Itil7, are very iiumernus, deal-
ing with the Christian virtues of the suhject rather tliaii with the events of
his life. Then there are hnmlreds of printed accounts of tlu^ Ap]iaritiiin »if

ler miraiu'ous inci

ideiils

"erniolis are

Our T^ady of Ciiadaliipe, and of ntl

foiMid in still greater nuiuher. It seems to have heen customary from the

with enlog-

earliest times fn
istie deilieat

loll :

th.

'rgvmeu

to h

hituary sermons ]irin

teil

rhich the deceased is ofti

•y are often of a mystic eharacler. or I'i \irhose vajmr

alh;

pr;

11
dit

it mentioned at all, or accorded flight

rtain (jiialities. But on the title Jiage of the himk,
the printing of which, as a matter of eoiir-t!, the p.'ltron or deceased ]iays
for, there is compensation in the fulsome llaltery according to the amount

of mom

y d,

jthoil

the only )>age that is ajit to he read.

judicious, fur it assures lei

_'nitiiin on

riie seieiitilic revival preri'diiii^ the o)ieiiing of the jireseitt eeiitiiry found
fit representation in tile Works of .Mexamhr von lliimliohlt, ha-ed on )ii r-
sonal ohservations iluriiig his travels in Spanish Xiiierica- from \~W tn IMH

lli^ V

ill ■< ('orilitl/ri\ K

Ki-iiti /'iill/ii/ur siir III A'(

riinii'il i'riliii'li' ill' I' llitldiri' ilr lil fri'
■Iff h'<}i'i /III' are miiiiiimeiital iii ''acili'

'!/'•";

llli

t liti'ra-

ture for their revelations in hi.storie ami seieutilie liraucnes, and fur the in-

GCG

KAliLY CALIFOKNIA I.ITKItATURK

ciMitiviMliry gave tn vidor iiivpstipation. Civil wars suiioi'Vcni'd to cliock
{•li'orl ■< iiliMifj I III' lU'w jMlli, while liilliiij^ atli'iitinii t

(1 ni'Miiis

i.i

will

(Ir.iwii iiDiii tlio wiirlil. Iiiiiii (iiir.ii' and tr.ido with iMiU'ipiisiiig uiiiidus
siTVL- luiwcvcr to .stri'iigtliiii tlu' daw iiiiig as|iiratioim on lioili sides lor Icaril-
iiij; nioif of cacli otliur. 'I'lic i I'^iilL is jmi licularly ohstrvalilu m tlio lii.slcirit',
gcngiapaif, and statistical inililicatioiis iiiianaliiig fronior under tliu aiisjiices

•let KM 1

U'Vott

to SlU'll

stildii

tin- lat.'Sii.iiii

^ll I'olll

Tlio Soi'ii'dad dc ( '

lint w liK'li w<re ra)iiilly oigaiii/rd in

;ialia v Ksiailistiea ol' Mixii

1 itii'lf ii. liiii Work liv \ oliiiniiioiis, oxliaiistive, and

])orl ■( in all scctioin ot tlio repniilu', in cinnlation \\

itli tlic traveller-

stii ienfs lielong.nn notalily to the Aiiieriean Antiquarian and Klliiiologieal
soi-ii!tiei, to tiie Royal ( ii'ogiajihieal and llakliiyt sociotios ol Kiiglaiul, tlui

f't.1 do (

I 'ogr,i|)iiio

.f Fi

anee.

uiil tile Aeadeinit! dur WisseiiM lial t of

ai:iii\'.

lie 1.

oks on similar t

arc inslanee

1 I'V K

seudero's

x ./;

m Cliihiiahiia and Durango, >niiier'.-) L'tiUral Aim rirn, Uranu

lyer

.1/.

,ivi'(>, aiii

1 otlr

While iniests and eoiKjiierors united in estalilisliing the oiillines of South

niuriea, tlie iiorlli-west leiiiaiiK

)lved

iiivsteiv until tlie U

in the middle of the eightinnth eentiiry, estahlished its sejiaration Iroiii Asi i
liy I'l-'riiig strait, and iiieited the jealous iSpani.irds and I'lnnlish to niieWMl

ex[ilorations under ( '

d V,

revealeil the true oiitlirio of the eoast.

■Jl

ind hy the •Siilil i/ Mi.r/rdiio, whh li

lareli for tin; noilh-wt'st

sage disclosed, a few deiades later, the water boundary iiloiig the luulh

although inipraetie

ihlo I

or naviuation.

l?ooks are our hoon eoiniianioiis, ever fresh, ever entertaining, and no h

id.

lor tl

leir H'lritir r/r/i than for tlieir aiilKine w isdoin. I'linled hool

are social, hut. there is sonietiiing liki' sacred riscrve in a niaiuiseriiil, jiar-

tlciilailv it then
visihl

no iiipy ol It.

'Ilh

leii it staiels an incarnati^d soiii,

lieliiir lua

sp,

y I'y va

hi'iiee the sou

d.d hook l)uriiers he hlolled out, even as tlu^ assas-
1 of 1

otih

Aino g the jirinled h

hut

))ook has its alt'

IIS vietini.
ks of a liijiary there are many faces f
ipts have thei

!')• !■;/(> I

11 a hundred or a th<

r ihstiiict |icrson;iliiy

llc<l

lousiiid dlLlerelit places at one time;
a 111 laiHcript is like a man, one and indivisihle.

In Am riea, nianiiseripts readily .s[ian the entire pci'iod of occupation, and

lave tlieriMoro an nicstimalile cliroiiologie coin[deU i

iuction ol the prnitiiiLi-press ii.totl

)emtcni'e on pen aii<

,is

l( rent colonies ]iidm|

'I'll
ited

Uow inlro-
;rcater uc

nvolviiiu; as these do the lugiunnig ai

dcvclopinciit of nearly all existing orders of things, their iiii|iortaiici: is iMirri'-
poiidiimly increased. They represent in Sp;

•a tiie ell'orts of t'

successively dominating races, and in the Anglo Saxon sections of the cm

Zetiu toiim

slates, phinted midst warfare and hardships. They

licse men ami races

lild hreatli

111 the chirogiaphy the characleristics

in the style the spirit vliicli animated Iicil cruel eoni(ilerors, lliert! peaci

missionaries, fearless explorers, and enter[irisiiig settlers, oppressed native

•fill

dst

I'll gut I II g conimn 111 ties.

They eiiihraeo edicts and regulations hy political and ecclesiastical iiiill

es, menior

iti

hy otlicials and mi

ri'lirese.italives, an

rials ami iictitions of to

(SIOl

1 of

ithi

iliviilnals, re[iorls and stalislics

rs, eorii'spi

ndence of trader.s

anil iiulustr

trial

'Mety.
and
of alV.i
ret^ai'd

]navatc persons who picture the inner (Miascs ol si

ley are originals and select co|iies, and dictations from pioneers

irmniiieiit men in all hraiiclies of life, giving their ixpcriiiices and view s

This and iiior<' is contained in that jiarticiilar jiortion which 1

the g(!iii of my lilirary. Arranged and iiound in volunus, the olll-

pleti

rial ami |irivate eorrespondcnce in itself presents a eoiiipli:te histmiit outline.
The dictations cover it in another form, tlie iiuiiiher of testimonies ou each
point servini; to suhstaiitiatc the principal facts in each occnrnnce. One
series of shelvts contain, in eonci-.e form, the (mtirw ar''liive.s of <'aliforiiia
from 1700 for the following liuiidred years, ai reduced from theotlieial dcpos-

NOTKS.

(U!7

itnrv, .Ttvl wiM'ili'iI of siini-rllmtii'M. 'I'lic value of tlic (':ilifi>iiii,i ii

iMiii-icripts,

Kiii^iii.il M\i\ i(i|m'-i, cMii lu^.sL lie csliiii.itcil liy iIk; .^laU'iiiciit. tliat triiiii
tlu'iii aloiit,' laii Ik: written a far iiidi-o eciiiiplete liistory lliaii Inmi all tlio
printed aeeomils ami ImmiUs oxtaiit; these latter Ipeiiit;. lur lliat m:itter,
very (leleelive on, or contailiiiii,' no allusion wliali^ver to, soini' of tlu' most
niterestini; e|)isoi|( s. 'I'lms far in illnstr.ilion of tin; iin|ioitanee ol Anuiuaii
ami p (I'tieulai'Iy I'aeilie inaiinseri[it.'4.

Still iirealer treasiin.s woiilil have reaeheil mi Imt for the vamlalism, lii'st

.f 1

ol liI''ot,e(

I eeelt!siastie-i, at whose haiid-i thesliMih

!«• ol kniivvleii;^e reiiive

more attention tli.iii the Bubstance. Anii'riean yohl was Christ's, Imt Aimi
Kin art and science weio Sitin'M. IJishops 1 il the way in raiils on tl
ehoieest Miieeiinens of native craft, and even of the fruits of iininoilal iiiiii
lijack smoke-elonds «cre inaile wliieli .should ohsenre still iiiori: the rayn of
III' eie'i'iideriii'' siin

w hieh II

The raids revived liiter duriiij,' the interiireine
I Siiaiiish Anieriea IimI to tin! destrmtion of arehives and to tin

terinj' of lihraries. To the latter mv .slnlve.s

■at-
wilness in Ihonsauds of

volumes )^;itlie|ed at the .sale of n\\

ell eo||r(

tioM.s .IS the .\ielr.ide-M,i Miiidian

A moll 1^ these inaiiuseri|ils are four hiilky lomes eoiil.iiniiiL: the oi ii^in.d .'eis
of the lir.sl three [iroviueial eoiiueds held in Mexico dining; tin: .sixleiiil ii een-

t nrv

touelh

'r with the v.irnuu petitioi

IS .'lie! (|iiesl neis on civil ,'in

1 ivli

illiirs snlmiilted to their decision, and Jiidvided w ith tin: autoL;ra|)lis ami
M'.ds of the kiiiu, prelates, olliei.ds, lael men of note. Their value may he

di'l'stood W

icll we CO

isidi'f the il

llpo

it.iiit I'lle pla\ ed hv til

e chliri'll Ml

.ill.i'rs of state in oiieii eoimeil or hrhiiel il even diiriiii; 1 ili'i- times, in Iho
Uriiie of her power, aiul her continued iidlilein'e over the imlr idual liy me.in.s
of pulpit and confession il.

Tlic: spiritual admiiiislration, and even secular In'.inehe^, in the whole of
Sp.inish ncU'theni and ci'iitral ,\meriea, were i'e;/ula|.d hy llie ilieree,, of ihe
three councils of hishops eont.iined in the four \dlunies of oiejinal records
l)i:ioii) mi'; and their rnhis, apjiroved hy popi.s and kin^s, have in ,i L;iciier
or less (leLjree controlled the destiny of tlio iSpanisli-speakiii}^ race in .\ineiiia
till the |)resent day.

'I'hu lirst council was couvciii'd in !."."."> Iiy .Monso de Monliif.ir, second
ircjihishop of Mexii'o, assistecl liy four hishops; tin: second leii\c,irs liler,
hy the same ])rclatc, attended Ity live hishops; and the third in l.'iS.'i, under

r.is, arehliishop ;ind vicc^rov, W il h

tiie prcsiileiicy of INilro Moya y('ontrei

veil hishops, one hy proxy. 1 he |nini'lp.'il ]ioiiils rctcrred to.i

tcssl

ill of f.iuli, iiistructioii Iiooks, Indian reyiilat
d

ions

•linreli

tlu: pi

I iiiu'iils, ceremonies and riles testaiiieuts, le.ists, inarria'.

Icerees, sae-
re^ul.itiiuis for

ipy, trihunals, notaries ami alcaldes, usury, sorcery, hl.isphcniy. .and

inor.ility.

The acts are siened hy tin: several incmhers of tie iineils with ,a

niorica, o

r I'lahoratu llourish. which fi

nam the essential put of S|iaiii>h
.\merican si|.;n,ilures, or with an initial .illixed lo the episcopal title. .Sdin

u; re'..;ul iLioiis poiii

t to laxil

y anion

the cler'4

\ in

iiiihliim and won

leii. .Several of I he catechisms ami <hielrin:

■ niicct ion \\ itli
rcLjulal ions.

d commentaries hy these coun. .Is lorin sfiecial voluiiie-i on mv shelve

signci

Ml presidin'4 pri'l.ites.

A pastoral of Znniiirra>.'a is intercsliii^ as heinij from the lir-t l)i^ho|i on
tut! continent, relating to the foundation of llu: cathedral at .Mexico, and

inlainint; an oiNler s\'^\

d V

e\ii,i

II).

usual aulocratie toriii ot

"^i anish isoveroif^ns - hy ynceii .Inau.i, mother of ( 'harh s \'

The nature of early .Spanish mauiiscripts reveal the predomin.ince of
iars and ehurchineii in clerical tasks, .is inissiouaries and as attemlant.s of
cplorcrs, <'onipierors, and ])ionei:rs. Tlio reports and coirespondcnce an:
ly from their pen. I'lie relieioiis feeling enforced and snst.iined liy the

! iiee

hiireii, and tlio work of

converting; the niiiiierous ii.itive<, ^ave moreover a

prepondcratiiii; .st.iinii ^" 1"''* jiroductions in the loriii of sermons and jiaK-
t irals, devoliou.il excrcis .s, sacred allei^orics, comnn;iils on niiraehs and
sliriiie.s, aaintly Jjancgyrica and hiogiaphie.s. 'I'ln: reyiu'd for these ctl'orts in

1 \'M'',t

668

EARLY CALIFORNIA LITKRATURK.

fnrllipr inilicati^d by tlio frequent illmiiinatinii of text and title pafrrs with
CiiiiitiiN, ti'iicerie.s in l)lue iiml red, scrcills, tloriil deeorations, arelies, and
]itMlestals, witii siiields and eirililazoningM, clierul)s, and synilxils, in iniitalinn
(il tlie niediiuval monk imKlnctinns on vellnin, as in the I'laliorate MoroUn S.
(Irfjitrii /'iivi; a eonnnontary on the hook of .loh in ;?.") [parts, hy tlie saintly
(iri'Ljory. It is written in small, eh>se, (Jothie ty[)e, so even as to rescnililc
IirintiiiL,'. A monument of patient industry, it is also an attraetive nieeinun
of ornamentation.

Many of the early ehronicles wlii<'h faihd to rcaeh the press lie on my
shelves ill original or eopied manuseript, yet. prest^nt fully as valuahle niati--
rial as tlios(! in [mhlisiiod form. This has lately hecii rieoj^nized hy tlx;
printed issue of sevcu'al aMiotii; tiiem, under the a\isi)ieeH of societies iind
zealous scholars. This is also the ease with such doeuments as the J. Hud ar
Citliililn of .Mexico, with the enactments of the lirst city council on the Noitli
American continent; likewise the re|>orts and memorials of eaily Ci iiti.d
American and .Mexican explorer-i, from Cohinihus to Alvarado, anil later.
I)iaries form an important section; .^cientitie and jihihisophical treatises
Is of th(! iirolilic Mexican historian and lejiislator, Husla-

aoonml. 1 he orignials ot th(! prolihe .Mcxu'an historian and Icfiisiator, niisla-
niante, revealed to me inucli imiiortant matter siH)|)reHsed when they were
sent to the printer, and shediliiiL; adilitional li.L;lit on his period. The .Mcxi-
cans have a forensic phrasi^olo^'y in their correspondence, and the mass of
Ice.il pa|(ers seems to iinlicate a fondness for jiiridie mysticism. On the
otiier liand, the declamatory style and softness of tlieir laiij^uajie lead natu-
rally to versilication, for wliich thi^r vivacity, social jjaycty, and gallantry
ati'ord frcipicnt excuse. Nuiikm'ous collections of unpulilished poems, and
single pieces, especially lyric and satiriu, bear witness to the dispositiou.

CHAPTER XIX.

PLATO kevisi;d.

Taiitnin rclifiio potuit suadere maloruni \— Lucretius,

Socrates^. Can tliis bo Plato?

J*(at<). It is he.

Socrates. Where are we ?

Plato. Ill liell or lieaven ; I know not how tho
phico is called ; but howsoever called it is tlie same,
and, let us hope, a happy conservation-ground for the
gods.

.Sorrate'. Is it a place? Arc we awake? ll<»w
loni^ have I slept ?

l*laio. If we are not awake, then is it no place—
per]ia])S in any event more a condition than a place ;
and it' it be within the realm of eternity, the nuasuie
of days is not employed. Some lately come hither
from where time is told say there are a S('(»re and
more of centuries since the affair of the hendock.

Socrates. Ah 1 I remember, I was jx'rmittcd to
kill myself because Melitus said I did not believe iu
the gods— that I sought too curiously into things
above the earth and under it, and made the worse
a[>i)ear tlu^ b( cter.

Plato. Ill conunoidv befalls him who s])eaks against
time-hononxl traditions, dissuading men from their
favorite opinions.

Socratci^. l^ut what if they believe a lie ; what if
there are no gods on 01ynn)us, no reserved heaven <.f
happiness, no hades, with infernal enginery for the
torture of departed souls ?

Plato. Men would rather not know, than know

(009)

: m

670

PT.ATO REVISKD.

wluit lilsos tlioin not. Besides, Socrates, you iKVrr
tauLcht that tloetriiio. You liave e\er unlu-M all
ros[H(tal»lt' (It'itit'S, would not tolerati; Hoiiicr win ic
lie ci'iticiscs tlicir conduet, would not even admit tliat
it were possible for tlieni to do wroiiLj. If nou
believed not in tlie };ods, Avliy ordered you a cock
sacrific<'d to 7l*]scula[)ius (

Sorrnfrs; As hciiij^ is to lieeoiiiiiii; so is truth to
lielicjf, ai'd I»elieviii!jj todoiiijj^. ]fa!»it is stroii'j^ within
us, and worship[)ers nnist not too closely scrutinize the
character and morals of the ohjeet of their a(l<»ralinii ;
else they will not loiii;' he worsliipjicrs. ^^^• iii;i\
trul}^ say that the gods liave much to ar.swer for, man
liaving s;icrifieed to them many of his nohU'.st
impulses.

Pluto. You have ever listened to the divine voice,
ni}' master, and ])ossessed the wisdom to apj-iclK nd
ignorance, even if found within yours. If ; for it is no
less the mark of wisdom to know whei'cin we ki;n\v
not than to know wherein we know. Your [)hilos()pliy
comes humanized from heaven.

Sncrafr^. I have always loved knowledge, m\-
Plato, deenu^d it virtue, and the condition of soul
incid(Mit thereto tlio highest good, and prefcrr(>d the
study of human nature of which we may knovv' much,
to that of the divine nature of which we can learn so
little.

Pldfn. In that thou showcst true wisdom, O
Socratt^s. A proper appreliension of the nature of
ideas unfolds a system of perfect and ))eri)ctual ty[)es
as th(^ foundation of all morality. Philosophy is not
alone knowledge, or speculation, l)ut wisdom, that is
wise action, and virtue, which is nothing less than
practical reason.

Sncmfcs. Yes, Plato, notwithstanding its occasional
transccndent.'d flights, your i)hilosophy is essentially
taltruistic. Virtue is wisdom and vice folly ; moder-
ation and justice are two of the chief Platonic virtues,
moderation meaning sound-mindedness, and justice

I'LATO IIEVISED.

071

(if

|:in

assiojnii\f^ to acts and functions tliclr proper places.
Yet Platonic jtliilosopliy, though altruistic and prac-
tical, is eniiiientlv theolo<j;ic, action beiiiLj the liiuliest
aim of man, morality the ideal of action, and God,
author of all, the ideal of ideals, or supreme source
of virtue and excellence.

ridfo. Platonic philosojihy, as you are ph as( d to
term it, comes from Socrates and (Jreece, and emhodic^s,
lik(( th(^ teachings of the ]>uddha, and all sul>s( (juent
founders of new and great religions, all that wuh best
in all that in-eviouslv existed. You, niv master, were
a moral phenomenon, a))pearing midway between two
()th(>r great teachers, the Buddha and the Christ. In
conjiuictiou with a lofty soul you displayed sticmg
animal [)ropensities, and had, if you remend)er, a Ihit
nos(\ pronuncnt eyes, and wt re not r(>mail<ahly fine
looking. The con\ic poet Aristoplianes riihculetl \ ou
in his coniedv of The Clouds, vet not in the least to
your discomfiture. You taught in povert\- witliout
pay, overtuining fiilsc- systems, and inculcating superi-
ority of soul and the true welfare of man in ])refer-
ence to worldly i)leasur(>s. You wei'o caDtious and

IV p

critical, dealt freely in sarcasm, pricked huhhh s. and

espised meanmgless i)lirases

You

M-el'(>

alv,;'. \ s

attacking jiopidar opinion. Any doctrine whose li^g-
ical conclusions were i)a][i:il)]y ahsuid you would
])rom|)tly jiut away. Knowing little of luitural
science, you turned from physical })henomena to the
soverciu'utv of truth as revealed hv m;

ui s Conscious-

ness.

ou d

was hecause you denounced po])ular^!c(

exposed soidiistrv, and scour',''ed follv that \ < u m< ii
])ersecut(.'d. It is the fate of refoi'incrs.

Socrates. EiKuiu'h, mv Plato. Ofv

ou 1 wi

11 onh

say that }'our effort to comliiiie })oetry and philoso-
phy in ^-our writings was most successful, the ic-ult
being a model of artistic ])erfection united with tie
most profound ]iliilosop]iic acuteness. Yet you an a
little too poleinicah some might say, and at times oi-e-
sided, particularly when the su[)reinacy of thought

67-'

PLATO REVISED.

COMICS ill conflict with the claims of tlic senses. Again,
ethics and ontoioj^y are so blended that It is ol'U n
impossible to a[>prchend yonr meaning, and when you
dcscund to deal in the unknowable your superiority is
wholly lost. Am J right in my surmise, O greatest and
best of men, that you adopted the dialogistie f<-iin,
following the Socratic idea, not so much to communi-
cate kn(»wledge as to lead to the s[)ontaneous dis-
covery (jf it :*

Plata. Quite right, Socrates.

Socrdfrs. In the Thetetetus wo find developed the
Platonic theory of knowledge, which, 1 might say, is
to<) idealistic for prac leal minds.

/*l(ifi). In the f(»rmation of conceptions mind
rather than sensation is the dominant factor.

Socrdlrs. True; but I surmise that times have
changed since our happy days at Athens, and that in
pres(Mit att'airs the real stands above the fanciful.

P/df'i. therefore, must we forever continue our
negative discussion of the philosophy of life begun in
the ancient dialectics ?

Socrafrii. Assuredly not.

Plafo. Yet, how ftir shall we venture, O Socrates '.
Are you prepared to ask 3'ourself, Is the divine
reached throuuh the human, or the human tlirouiih
the divine ?

Socrafc!^. Before attempting to answer that ques-
tion, Plato, I would know something more of the
moral atniosj)here of this place, and what advance, if
any, has been made toward fathoming the secrets of
the universe since we were in Athens. Long laid
away the mind becomes n)usty, and I could nevtr
talk well in the dark.

Plafo. Nothing new is known ; nothing can he
l(}arned even here. Some backward advance has
been made, which is indeed sometimes the greatest
progress forward, in unlearning what was wrongly
learned. Long has been the time of meditation, an<l
hard the words to utter, even by mouths of gravest

PLATO REVISED.

678

wisdom, that of the unknowable man can know
nothing.

iSocratcfi. But who shall say there is aught to man
unknowable, either on earth or in heaven? Let
mind be matter, and matter immortal ; let soul be
nature, and nature God ; then is it not folly for man,
a half-finished product of the universe, to limit the
powers of nature and of mind ?

l^lato. Since coming hither and finding neither
entity nor nonentity, 1 have been tempted to review
somewhat my own and others' teachings.

Socrates. Little have I taught, though questioning
much. They say I professed ignorance as a foil to
sarcasm. Little need for feigning, as I am reminded
by my present surroundings. On what based you,
Plato, the knowledge that you taught ?

J*l(ito. On traditions and intuitions.

Socrates. Of what ?

Plato. Of origin, agency, immortality, and the
rest.

Socrates. In the Timseus it is written that for
everything there is a cause; for the creation of the
world the father of all, the best of causes, who, being
good, and finding things in disorder, framed the uni-
verse, this world, his fairest work, becoming a living
soul, with divine life of everlasting motion.

Plato. It is so written.

Socrates. And, having been created in this way,
the world has been framed with a view to that which
is apprehended by reason and mind.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. And that the beirinninff of evcrvthinrj
should be according to nature.

Plato. It nmst be so.

Socrates. Where shall we look for the beginning,
Plato ?

Plato. As I have said, in the best of causes, the
father of all.

Socrates. Tell me, what were the things which

StiSAYii AND AilSCBU.ANY 13

t74

PLATO REVISED.

the father of all found in disorder when he framed
them into a harmonious cosmos i

Plato. Chaos, that vacant, infinite space, or con-
fused shapeless mass, out of which sprang all things
that exist.

Socrates. And God was there, God and Chaos,
only those two ; and what and whence were they, niv
Plato ?

Plato. Out of chaos arose all things, and gods and
men.

Socrates. Who made the gods and men and all
things out of chaos ?

Plato. The great artificer.

^Socrates. That is to say, God ?

Plato. Socrates, yes.

Socrates. Plato, who was first. Chaos or God ?

Plato. By Jupiter 1 Socrates, why do you ask me
such a question ?

Socrates. Not that I expect an answer, truly, but
that I mav ask another.

Plato. "What is that ?

Socrates. You say that everything that is must
•have been created by some cause. God exists and
chaos was. Which was first, God or chaos, you cannot
tell ; how can you better know or better explain tlic
creation of the universe outof chaos than the creation
or existence of chaos ?

Plato. I know, Socrates, you merely wish to talk.
and though I see no profit in it. I will humor you.

Socrates. I would to God, Plato, I might do more
than talk. Many bubbles have I pricked, many false
doctrines e> ^sed, but here would I gladly be estab-
lished.

Plato. W 3ther we will or no, we must distin-
guish cause i om condition ; or rather we must sonu-
where cease to question for a cause and accept the
condition.

Socrates. Then why not take up the question of
cause from some real and tangible condition ?

PLATO REVISED.

075

Plato. There is no law against it.

Socrates. But when asked, was the world cheated,
or had it always existence, created, you reply, heini^
as you say, visible and tangible and having a body,
and therefore sensible, as more fully explained in your
TiniSBUS.

Hato. Yes.

Socrates. And you further state, in that not too
logical effusion, that the causes God employs arc of
two kinds, intelligent and unintelligent, and the pro-
duct is made up of necessity and mind. Mind, you
say, the ruling power, persuaded necessity to bring
the greater part of created things to i)erfection, and
thus in the beginning when the hifluence of reason
got the better of necessity, the universe was created.
AH this is pure fancy, as any one may know ; and
you finally admit that you cannot explain first prin-
ciples, and will not discuss the origin of things,
though you have your opinion thereon.

Plato. You are wholly correct.

Socrates. But my dear Plato, how can you better
explain the ways of God than the origin of God ?
You will admit that you know no more of one than
of the other ; that you were no more present at the
creation of the world than at the creation of the
creator. And yet, while you decline to discuss the
one you will discourse upon the other till doomsday.

Plato. The world being visible and tangil)le, I said
it had a creator ; the creator being invisible and
intangible, I said I could not account for his becom-

ing-

Socrates. That does not answer my question,
which was, how can you better explain the acts than
the origin of an invisible creator, knowing nothing of
either ?

Plaio. We must fall back on tradition, Socrates,
which has had more to do in forming opinion than
all other evidence and influence combined.

Socrates. What has tradition to do with it ? Did

676

PLATO REVISED.

the earlier and more ignorant men know morcoftluiir
maker than we ?

Plato. Of the origin of the great artificer we have
held that it is sacrilege to question ; to tell of other
divinities and to know their origin is beyond us, and
we must accept the genealogies of the poets and the
traditions of the men of old who affirm themselves to
be the offspring of the gods, and they must surely
have known the truth about their own ancestors.

f%cratcs. How should they know ?

Flato. They were so told.

Socrates. Who told them ?

Plato. Their ancestors.

Socrates. And who told their ancestors?

Plato. Those who lived before them.

Socrates. Ye gods 1 Plato ; and is this the only
basis of your belief?

Plato. How can we doubt the word of the children
of the gods?

Socrates. Do you know there were ever any gods.
or if so that they had any children, or if so that
they ever so asserted ?

Plato. It is true that they give no certain, or even
probable imx)f; yet, as they declare that they arc
s[)eaking of family traditions, we must believe tlitiii
in obedience to the laws.

Socrates. By the dog of Egypt 1 Plato, that wor(^
stout argunjent for the blockheads of Athens, two
thousand years ago — we nmst obey the law niid
believe tliom 1 My dear friend, where have you been
since I last saw you ? Although I have slept, T
am aware that all these centuries there has hwu
progress, which is indeed eternal as the gods them-
selves, and that I am now with all the world far
away from the Greece of old. One cannot sleep a
single night and awake to find himself the sanu :
much less can the soul lie dormant for centuries.

Plato. Socrates, you speak the truth. I, too, am
not the Plato of old, else I were not Plato, bohofs

PLATO REVISED.

677

having so cbanged, and knowledge having so won-
derfully hicreased. But when you question after the
ancient way, constrained by my custom I answer in
like manner. As to our gods, I really doubt if they
be worth further recounting. There are Occanus
and Tethys, children of earth and heaven, from whom
sprang Phorcys and Chronos and Rhea, and many
others ; and from Chronos and Rhea sprang Zeus and
Here, and their brethren and children ; and there were
many others, as we all know.

ISocratcs. I know that you liave said that Homer
and Hesiod, and others of the poets who catalogue
the gods, iiave ever been the greatest story-tellers of
mankind, their fault being that of telling a lie, and
what is more, a bad lie, whenever a representation is
made of the nature of ijods and heroes.

Plato. Nevertheless, the fact that the poets were
not always trutliful does not prove that traditions are
fiilse. What! understand to be the modern doctrine
of emanation, or a philosophic transformation of the
idea of an .original creation of the world, which
makes the universe a product of tlie divine nature,
but at the same time a physical rather than a moial
act, had its orit;ia in the east aijjes a<>o, and difiVrs
little from the niodern theory of evolution, though
somewhat reversing the on^or of thinsjfs.

Socmici^. Let us question for a moment the value
of tradition, and sec; wliere the ancient maimer of
discussion thereon will lead us. Whence comes tra-
dition, Plato I

Plato. Answering after the former method I
should say from those the gods first njade.

Socrates. I notice, Plato, in your Statesman you
i];ive a tradition which you say may be proved by
internal evidence.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Had the children of the gods intuitions ?

Plato. Certaiidy.

Socrates. And their children had traditions?

678

PLATO REVISED.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. And we have botli?

Plato. We have.

Socrates. Then we may prove tradition by intu-
ition and intuition by tradition?

Plato. Tliat is the logical conclusion.

Socrates. The study of evolution raises a doubt as
to the construction of this world out of nothiiiu- for
man's supremacy. Where now arc the gods of
Olympus, and that golden age of wisdom and happi-
ness of which poets sang? In vain wo search tlin
by-paths of history ; no trace of gods or demi-gods
remain. And the one invisible God, creator of all,
has been driven by science farther and farther back,
until now he is well-nigh lost to us.

Plato. The traditions of the Chinese, and other
nations called half civilized or savage, seem near akin
to the truth, affirming as they do that their prinio-
gonitors went naked, had no fire, lived in caves, ate
raw meat, and that man}^ ages elaj)sed before any
consciousness of their uncomfortable state dawned
upon them.

Socrates. There are the seen and unseen, the
apparent and ntm-apparent, the material and tlie
s|)iritual, but all natural, each living in the other, tlic
universal forces ever passing from one to the other,
all cooperative in endless evolution.

Plato. So savs science.

Socrates. To come back to the oriirin of thiniis.
You, Plato, wlio were taught music, gynmastics. and
literature, who essayed poetry, and who in pliilosopliv
sought the ideal rather than the real and material,
investigating mind rather than matter, surely you, if
any one, should be able to give mankind some reason-
able and apprehensible cx[)lanation of the source of
existing phenomena.

Plato. In fiithoming the mysteries of cxistenc(\ (^
Socrates, surely my ideal jihilosophy, which plivs
with art and poetry and feeds on inborn conceptions,

I'LATO REVISED.

679

is of no more value than your searching and dis-
triniinating analyses of things and beliefs, which seek
the definite and certain as the foundation of knowl-
edge.

Socrates. In the Republic, and also in the Laws,
you prove, to your own apparent satisfaction, and in
the main to the satisfaction of the people of Athens,
and all the world, the existence, nature, and orii^in of
the gods and of the universe, how all that is was
made, and by whom, and endowed with soul and
immortality; what soul is, and mind, and matter, and
the rest; you, the profoundest and divinest of })hil()s-
ophers, appearing in the centre of the world's highest
culture ; you explained minutely all this, and much
more, of which man could know nothing, but which,
however, was largely believed by many, some of your
speculations being entertained to this day ; tell me, I
pray you, whence came your so-called vast knowledge
of things so far beyond the apprehension of the ordi-
nary mind ?

l*l(ifn. I told you, Socrates, from tradition and
intuition.

Sorrdtcs. Are oral or written comnmnications
deemed most reliable ?

l*lafn. Obviously, written comnmnications.

Socrates. Classify traditions as secular and sacred ;
v/ould the former prove mostly true or false ?

l^Iato. In the main, false.

Socrates. This is proved by history ?

Plato. It is.

Socrates. If the early traditions regarding the real
are mostly false, may we not infer the same or worse
in regard to the fanciful ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Then what shall we say regarding the
thousands of conflicting traditions ?

Plato. Some of them nmst be untrue.

Socrates. When we consider how creeds originate
and are preserved, expression born of fear and expla-

680

PLATO REVISED.

nation forced, heaven's conviction falling from initagi-
nation-clouds, and breathed into the soul midst the
fervid feelings of unrest, we can see how but a step fur-
ther the substance and shadow become one, tho
attainment of a good being made to depend upon the
self-enslavement of intellect and the prostitution of
reason to the extent of willing a belief in the exist-
ence of that good. The creed accumulations of the
centuries, gathered now into books of divers names,
each an abomination to the others, are placed beifore
the youths of the various religions, all being told to
believe their particular book under penalty of the se-
verest punishment a benignant deity can invent. They
nmst not question ; they must only believe. Later,
skilled teachers explain away absurdities, while flat
contradictions and impossibilities are placed in the
category of things not at present to be uiidcrstootl.
The works of the creator are examined ; where they
are good the creator is praised ; where bad, the blame
is thrown on another deity which omnipotence cannot
or will not annihilate. If this be the best method to
arrive at truth, why not employ it in worldly affairs,
Avhere, if we do not use our reason, and trust ft)r
results to the knowledge of experience, we are justly
blamed or punished ? We nmst know and under-
stand before we can believe. Evidence, based on
sense or reason, lies at the foundation of all belief.
To repeat parrot-like a fornmla and cry credo 1 is not
belief. And if evidence carries reason away from
tradition, let not theology l)e filled with horror, and
insult the almighty by saying that savagisms and
superstitions please him better than the exercise of
that noblest of faculties found in his creation.

Plato. And what say you with regard to intuition
Socrates ? It has been held that as one of the agen-
cies through which works the almighty, man should
pay heed to the sympathies voiced within him.

Socrates. But these intuitive sympathies which
many mistake for beliefs are nmltiform, ojiposed one

PLATO REVISED.

G81

to another like traditions ; how tlion oould they liavc
beou implanted by the same reasonable and all-wise
beiniT ?

Plato. Does not inward longing itnply the exist-
ence somewhere of the means of gratification ?

Socrates. Have all your intuitions come true,
Plat.»?

Plato. Bv no means.

Socrates. If, then, intuitions are not a sure guide,
of what value are they '{

Plato. To what end, then, are intuitions im-
planted ?

Socrates. What essence is to generation, truth is to
belief These are your own words, O Plato, put
into the mouth of Tinueus twenty-three hundred
years ago.

Plato. In treating of things beyond the domain of
the absolute, we can only speak according to our
enlightenment.

Socrates, Have we any enlightenment whatever
regarding things beyond the domain of the absolute !
As the author of all, one refers us to the fiat of an
extra-natural creator ; another to mechanical action
in pre-existing atoms ; another to an eternal functi(>n
or potency of the universe. The first hypothesis
assumes something to have l)cen made from nothing ;
the last two may be called one ; none of them begin
at the beginning, the existence of the extra-natural
creator, the pre-existing atoms and the etornal
potency all having to be accounted for. What have
you to say to the first?

Plato. There is nothing to be said. That which
is made from nothing is nothing, and all reasoning on
it begins and ends in nothing.

S()Grates. Such a tlieory assumes in the beginning
a universal nothing, or at least a dead universe, God
alojio having life, his first creation being lifeless. It
is a theology of automatic emotion based on illogical
phenomena, in the discussion of which the premises

III

682

PLATO REVLSED.

aretaken from tradition and not from reason. Nature,
on the other hand, points ;;o hfe as an essential faculty
of the universe. You may choose for yourself which
is the more rational hypothesis.

Plato. If nature is not God, it is wonderful how
like a God she works, moving ever on with infinite
patience in lines intelligent for definite ends. Hun-
dreds of millions of years were occupied by nature
in making man.

tSocratcs. Then how long does it take this same pro-
tean power to make of man a god ?

Plato. They say now that the earlier gods were
but the ghosts of dead heroes.

Socrates. SayH the Veda : Who knows exactly and
who shall in this world declare whence and why tliis
creation took place ? The gods are subsequent to tlio
production of this world. Then who can kiiow
whence it proceeded or whence this varied world
arose, or whether it uphold itself or not ? Immature
in understanding, the Hindoo poet sings, undiscerning
in Uiind, I inquire of tliose things which are hidden
even from the gods, what are the seven threads whicli
the sages have spread to envelop the sun, in whom all
abide. Yet we are here assured that once there was
nothing, vacuity absolute — no world or sky or aught
above it, nor water deep or dangerous.

Plato. Nevertheless, while the Hindoos worship
the sun, fire, and lightning, not as superior beings but
as agencies to be propitiated, and because their assist-
ance is w^anted against enemies, Brahma, in tluir
religion and philosophy, signifies the universal s[>iiit,
an eternal self-existent beinij, the <>r()und and cause
of all existence ; not so nmch, however, a deity to be
worshipped as an object of co!itemi>lation.

Socrates. Vishnu is one of the forms of the sun.
The Chaldeans worshipped the heavenly bodies; tlw
gods of the Parsees, Ormuzd and Ahrihian, evolv((l
themselves out of primordial matter, while out of a

PLATO REVISED.

683

cosmic egg issued the Egyptian god, Phta, who cre-
ated the world.

Flato. But with these same Egyptians worsliip
became chronic ; for, not content with a god for
every day in the year, they nmst needs resort tt) the
worships of the cat, the dog, ibis, and hawk.

Socrates. We know that among the world's theolo-
gies, savage and civilized, there have been hundreds
of theories of the origin of things, one as good, or as
bad, as another. But, let us call matter created, or at
all events existing, whence comes intellect ? Or, as the
Hindoo poet asks. From the earth are the breath and
blood, but where is the soul ?

Plato. If we are ready, O Socrates, to accept the
answer to that question of modern science, it i.s this:
Mind exists in matter, has alwavs directed matter ;
there is no such thing as mindless life-stuft". Every
form of life involves sensation, which is the basis of
all knowing. Throughout the long journey from pro-
toplasm to man, from the carbonic acid, water, and
ammonia, in whose conjunction first appears the [the-
nomcnon of life, to mind, and that intelligence wliich
apprehends itself, there is no break, no new develop-
ing agency appearing, no now factor of evolution
introduced. AH organic life thus evolving from tie
[)rimordial protoplasmic cell fulls into co-related and
classifiable groups, assuming sentience and heredity,
and proceeds from the simple and phj'sical to the
complex and ethical, until the monad becomes tlie
animal who thinks arjd reasons.

Socrates. Of all the millions of deities creatt d for
the confusion of man, how many have evaporated 1
And yet enough remain, and more than enough.

Plato. In searching among the forces luhind
events for a cause of causes, monotheisn) and the
unity of nature and mankind were invented, the deity
being still apart from, and above, nature.

Socrates. And after nKmotheism ?

Plato. After monotheism, Socrates, atheism, which

684

PLATO REVISED.

ill my Laws is set forth as a disease of tlie soul before
it becomes an error of the understaiidino-.

Socrates. You, O Crito, and you, Pliasdo, Apollo-
dorus, and Evenus, have been abroad somewhat, and
should have gathered knowledge; tell me, I pray
you, about what are men now most concerned ?

Crito. As always, power.

Socrates. What would they with power? Thereby
to eat better, to sleep better, the better to study the
ways of wisdom and lead mankind heavenward
through happier, holier paths?

Crito. Not so. The gods claim all rights to such
dispensations. Men ape the gods and fawn upon
them, scrambling among themselves to gather the
fallen crumbs of deity, that they too, like the omnii)-
otent ones, may lord it over their fellows, make slaves
and concubines out of good human flesh, and riot in
worshii)ful wealth, until death takes pity on the earth
and thrusts them under.

Socrates. And then? Have men now no reli'j;ions?

Crito. Yes, truly, plenty of them, and some very
jjrood ones. Indeed, religion still holds the human
race bound in iron fetters; beliefs of all qualities and
grades, from the crude conceptions of savagisin to
the more refined and involved theologies of civiliza-
tion, the latter, however, graduall}'^ fading in the
more intellectual quarters before the lights of advanc-
ing reason and natural science.

Socrates. Has philosophy done nothing for human-
ity ? Are men no better tlian they were ?

Crito. Outwardly, yes; inwardlv; no. Notwith-
standing the vast period and endless processes
employed in its becoming, human nature appears to
be a definite quantity, as fixed and immutable as
any primary element. Men's natures are as treach-
erous, their instincts as brutal, and their hearts as
immoral as ever ; only by a cunning use of the arts
of refinement they are not so grossly apparent. Thou

PLATO REVISED.

68,-.

well knowcst, O Socrates, that civilization creates
nothing, but only refines.

Socrates. Are the gods no better than they were ?

Crito. In the great race of progress the gods
scarcely keep pace with their human subjects. I
have heard you say, my master, that the worst of all
evils is belief in a bad god, and now I almost ques-
tion if there has ever been a good god.

Apollodorus. And I note that very many about
the world begin to question if ever there was a god
at all, never one of any age or nation upon good
authority having been seen, or heard, or felt. Think
you, O Socrates, that the world can exist with-
out gods ?

Socrates. Gods are but human ideals projected
upon the infinite unknown, and theologies take color
and character from the time and place of their origi-
natinir. And all must change ; all that is must cease
to be, men, nations, and religions.

PJnrdo. And it would seem, further, that in this
world man was becoming more and more master —
master of himself and his environment, moral and
physical, master of his beliefs, mind dominating mat-
ter and reason supplanting ritualism.

Socrates. Ah 1 then the g<ids indeed have had to
go to the wall.

Crito. Thousands of them have been driven to the
wall, and other thousands hurled over it ; and yet the
world lies bound, as I said, fiftv millions of so-called
teachers being still occupied in perpetuating the false-
hoods of the past.

ApoUodorus. Critias sa^^s that man was once law-
less and beast-like, the slave of force, paying no heed
to the good or bad ; wherefore a wise man arose, and
the deity was made, with thunder and lightning at
his command, that terror might be employed.

Socrates. Men make their gods upon their own
pattern ; they have no other. They endow them
with their own qualities, good and bad, but in a mag-

688

PLATO REVISED.

In
III

nified deirree. The gods of savatje races are as wild
and uncouth, as cruel and groveling, as themselves.
The gods of civilization are nevur above but always
below the standards of niorality and equity set up by
the people. While pretending to superhuman justice
and benevolence, they are licensed to indulge in all
the wickedness which men denv themselves, such as
vengeance, rol^bery, tyranny, and every species of cru-
elty and injustice.

("riio. When we consider the spontaneity of evo-
lution, and the uniformity in many particulars of the
independent generation of ideas, customs, and con-
trivances in widely separated parts of the world, all
under pressure of similar engendering causes and ct)M-
ditions, it is not difficult to see how t^ods are made.
Thus the Mayas, Germans, and Chinese, each invent( d
the printing press ; Mexicans, Peruvians, Egyptians,
and Chinese, each unknown to the other made bronze ;
and Zoroaster, Confucius, and Christ in like manner
promulgated the golden rule.

Eveivxs. There is but one true religion, one cor-
rect code of ethics.

Cr'do. That is what they all say.

Evcnus. You surely would not class the religions
of savagism and barbarism with that of the hiiihest
civilization and intelligence ?

Crito. Intelligence has nothing to do with it ; it is
from lack of intelligence that religions are first made.

PJuvdo. The barbaric days of dogmatic theology
are passing away. Barbaric nations make their gods
of wood and stone; civilized nations carve theirs out of
the imagination, and for evervthing that civilization
and science does for them they thank their ideal deity.

ApoUodorus. The gods of Egypt have been whoily
subject to the manufacture and manipulation of the
priests from the beginning, while the minds of the
millions subject to their sway have been as stolid as
stones.

Pliwdo, The cure of being is not to be, pays the

PLATO REVISED.

(537

Buddha ; existonco is tlic sum of all evil, birth tlio
oriijiii. Had wo never been born we had not known
misery, old age, and death.

Apollodorus. It would scarcely seem to demand,
Phsedo, the perfect contemplation of Sakya-muni to
attain the summit of wisdom and enlightenment of
which you speak.

Pfuedo. The Brahmins taught the doctrine of a
single invisible supreme being, an onmipotent, onnii-
scent creator, preserver, and destroyer of all, who was
the soul of the universe, or the universe itself, and
who manifested himself in three forms, Brahma the
creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Siva the destroyer.
Zoroaster tried at first a single supreme god, but it
was finallj'^ found necessary to divide it in order to
represent the two principles of good and evil, to
which the names of Ormuzd and Ahriman were
given

Apollodorus. Confucianism contains no trace of a
personal god, no attempt of a creation out of nothing,
the idea in this respect varyitig little from the auima
mnndf of the classical philosophy ; good and evil are
found existing:, and the life of the religious devoted to
promoting the one and extinguishing the other, with
little concern as to their origin or nature. " To what
sublime religion do you belong ?" asks one of another
in China, where three great systems exist peaceably
side bv side ; and the answer comes, " Religions are
many ; reason is one ; we are all brothers."

P/i.Tdo. True, Ajiollodorus, and the Chinese
threaten their gods witli deposition, one if he fails to
give them victory in war, another if he fails to send
rain ; the super-civilized thank God for success in
war, and importune him for rain when desired.
Wherein lies the diiference, unless it be that the
Chinese way has less of aV)3urdity in it than tlic other ?

Apollodonis. Civilization not only threatens depo-
sition but deposes, many of the best and wisest men
every day emerging from the clouds of superstition.

I'-M

;*.'! f

688

PLATO REVISED.

Crito. There are to be accounted for the origin
and existence of God, of chaos, and of man ; was man
or cliaos first ?

Apollodorus. Man, he being a product of the ele-
ments.

Crito. Who made the elements ?

Apollodorus. The gods.

Crito. Who made the gods ?

Apollodorus. Man, they now say.

Crito. Man made the gods ; the gods made the
elements ; man is a product of the elements ; there-
fore man made himself.

Apollodorus. As well so as that the gods made
themselves.

Plta'do. You are nearer the truth, my friends, than
you yourselves imagine. Man makes not only his
own gods but himself He has had to physically
fashion himself, working his way outward and upward
from the protoplasmic cell through millions of ages,
improving form and features, making his tools, cus-
toms, beliefs, literature, arts, and the rest, adding on
the way organs and accomplishments, one after
another, until from atoms and force he becomes body
and mind.

Socrates. In your Republic, Plato, you make God,
that is to say, Zeus, a being unchangeable, and not
the author of all things, as the many assert, but of a
few things, of the good only ; for few are the goods
and many the evils of life. As to variableness he is
no Proteus, no magician, dect^ving us by appearing
now in one shape and now in another ; God is simple
and true in both word and deed. In knowledge he is
absolute, as we find in the Parmenides. In the Laws
you say that God governs all things, and that chance
and opportunity cooperate with him ; but design
takes part with them, for there is advantage in having
a pilot in a storm.

Plato. I have so said.

VLA^O REVISED.

Socrate.9. You cause TinicBus to say that notlun*;
can exist without having been created, and nothing;
can be created without a cause, and tiiat of which tli<!
|>erfect artificer works out the form and nature after
an unchant^eable pattern must of necessity be made
fair and perfect. This world, the product of a cause, is
the fairest work of creation, and the creator only good.

Plato. True.

Hncrates. Itistead of imputing evil to God, the
supreme creator, or making him the author of evil, or
opposing to him a devil, you commit the lesser or
lower works of creation to inferior deities, and fasten
on tliem the many faults of creation. From the evil
inherent in matter, and which he cannot annihilate,
God detaches himself, that he may be forever guiltless.

Plato. You state my views correctly, Socrates.

Socrates. Do I ujiderstand you to say that God
first made all, worlds and gods and men, but that in
finishing off his work he employed the inferior deities
to assist him, and that these subordinates spoiled some
of his work, intermixing evil therewith ?

Plato. It must have been so in a measure.

Socrates. You say further, Plato, that God is the
author of your laws — that is Zeus in Greece and
Apollo in Lacedsemon.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Yet they are made by men.

Plato. They are made by men, yet all declared
good, and of divine origin.

Socrates. Are gods thus made and declared good
and of divine origin ?

Plato. It may be so sometimes, though I know of
no such cases.

Socrates. If all laws and all gods were so made,
and so declared divine and gooci, and some of them
proved to be bad, would those latter be good or bad ?

Plato. What are you aiming at, Socrates ?

Socrates. There are bad gods as there are bad laws.

Plato. Yes.

Essays and Miscellany 44

m HH

690

PLATO REVISED.

Socrates. Yet all laws, whether good or bad, you
declare good and divine.

Plato.^^ Yes.

Socrates. There are some bad gods.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Yet men must declare them good and
divine.

Plato. I suppose so.

Socrates. To do otherwise would be sacrilege.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Then your lavv compels men to declare
to be true what they know to be false.

Plato. Is it not so in all religions, if the people aro
capable in any wise of distinguishing truth from
error? Every religion is nihilistic, admitting tlic
creator's work imperfect, and lapsing into fatalism,
involving moral failure.

Socrates. In your Laws, Plato, you say that no
one ev(ir intentionally did any unholy act, or uttcrt'd
any unlawful word, retaining a belief in the existence
of the gods.

Plato. That is true.

Socrates. Lot me ask you, Plato, has there ever
lived in this world, fnjm first to last, one wjio Ikis
never spoken an unlawful word or committed an
unholy act?

l^lato. I said not intentionally, if he retained a
belief in the existence of the gods.

Socrates. May not the wicked believe in the exist-
ence of the gods and yet hate them ?

Plato. That is probable.

Socrates. Else what avail reviling and cursing, if
spent on nothingness — that is on beings whose exist-
ence is denied ?

Plato. The idea is absurd, of course.

Socrates. That is that one can intentionally speak
against the gods who docs not believe in their
existence ?

Plato. Yes.

PLATO KEVLSED.

COl

Socrates. But you say tliat no one can intentionally
speak against the gods and yet believe in their
existence ?

Plato. I have so stated.

Socrates. Now, in regard to the unholy acts, is it
not the same; may not the wicked, believing in the
gods, still defy and fight against them ?

Pluto. Yes.

Socrates. Then it would seem that men mav inton-
tionally commit unlioly acts and s[)oak unlawful
words, retainin<>' a beliet' in the existence of the ffods.

Plato. It must be so.

Socrates. Did you not affirm at Athens, O Plato,
that (lod could not be the author of all without beimj
the author of evil ?

Plato. Any child may see that.

Socrates. And that he was not the author of evil ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. And therefore that he was not the
author of all ?

J^lato. Certainlv.

Socrates. And yet you make God the sole and
only creator, but not the autlior of evil.

Plato. I have said in my Kepublic that God is the
author of evil only with a view to good.

Socrates. Then jou admit that God made, sanctions,
and employs evil ?

Plato. Ordv with a view to good.

Socrates. Mny not man do what God does?

Plato. Certainlv, if lie can,

Socrates. Is it not ri^lit for n^.an to do as God does
if he can ?

Plato. It is so commanded him.

Socrates. Then man may do evil with a view to do
good ?

Plato. He may.

Socratc Man being the judge ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Then you endow man with the right at

<;ii2

PLATO REVISKD.

his discretion to indult^o in murder, robbery, cruolty,
injustice, and every crime.

l*l(ito. That cannot bo.

Socrafcfi. To repeat what I have just said; God is
the author of all tlungs i

I*lafn. It has been so believed.

Socrates. And yet not of all but only of the good ?

Plato. Only f)f the good.

Socratr.'i. He is not tlie author of evil ?

Plato. It were sacrilege so to say.

Socrates. He is the author of all good, and of good
oidy?

i'lato. Yes.

Socrates. In the beginning were only the great
artificer and chaos ?

Plato. Nothing else.

Socrates. And out of chaos God created all ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. But he did not create evil ?

Plato. He did not.

Socrates. Who then is the author of evil ?

Plato. The inferior gods.

Socrates. Who made the inferior gods?

Plato. Thus spoke the great artificer, as it is written
in the Tima3us, the creation l)eiiig finished : (JukIa and
sons of gods, who are my works, and of whom I am
the artificer and father, my creations are indissoluhlr
if so I will ; all that is bound may be dissolved, but
only an evil being would wish to dissolve that which
is harmonious and happy.

Socrates. But if God makes the gods who mixkr
evil, is not that makinir evil ? And if God makes evil
how can he be only the author of good ?

riato. Evil came and God permits it that in tlif
resisting thereof m?n mav become stronger.

Socrates. Either God created all or he did not ; it"
not, then is he not the sole creator, and the mono-
theistic idea must be discarded ; if being sole creatni.
and omnipotent, and he permits evil to conn'

PLATO REVISED.

693

and to exist, then clearly he is the author
atid sustainer of evil. Again, if evil is neces-
sary for the growth of good, then evil is not evil but
good.

Pluedo. Every religion revolves on its own axis,
moves in its own orbit, and ends where it begins.

Socrates. If good is one with knowledge and God,
why not evil as well, since evil is as much the essence
of things as good ?

Grito. Still your interminal)lc discussion, O Socrates,
on good and evil, and you have not yet even defined
your conception of the meaning of the terms.

Socrafes. Everybody knows that good and evil are
sometimes absolute thougli often relative terms; tliat
which in one time, place, and degree is good may in

)ther be evil.

Plato. Just as there are good men, vet not worthv
of eternal happiness, so there are bad men not worthy
of eternal danmation.

Socrafrs. (Jlood, its origin and essence, man seems
able to explain to his a[>parent satisfaction better
tluin evil. You say that good is God. Very well.
Account for God and you account for good.

Crlto. In other words, to make the inter})retation
more modern, evil is that which is o[)posed to tlie
harmony and happiness of the universe, as convulsions
of naturo. suffering, injustice. Evil originates all
religions, evil, and fear, for if there were no evil there
would bn a« ohing to fear, and no incentive to worshij).

Pirj!-K Think vou, Crito, that men would not
worsMp < V.d through love alone \

Crito. .^^. . Unless lashed to it by fear, m(>n
would not worship ; fear is the foundation i)f celestial
love, fear and favor. CJive us the good and stay the
evil is the burden of all [)rayer. Upon this dualism
rest all religions.

Plui'do. True ; in the ex])lanatlon which the defects
of cr ation at the hand of a benefic(>nt creator, absolute
in ?" .i,cr, will demand, the dogma of dualism was

' 1 '

< m

V. 1

PLATO REVISED.

resorted to by the early aryaii religion, which had two
su[)reiiie gods, Orinuzd and Ahriman, one good and
the other evil, while, later, less logical religions threw
thi^ evil upon a subordinate spirit in rebellion against
omnipotence.

Crifo. Then there is the dualistic idea of evolu-
tion, which refers the physical to the inorganic world
and the mental toman, and the monistic, which makes
mind only a manifestation o? matter.

Phinlo. A perfect creation nmst follow as the work
of a perfect creator, and a perfect creation admits
of neither r Progression nor progress. Nor will the
hypothesis h 1 ' it fallen man was originally per-
fectlv created : ; unless the seeds of sin and rebellion
had been ini[)lanted by the creator, it were not possible
for the perfect man to fall.

Crlto. Unless they first change his character and
make him a different being from what they claim he
is, man should not say that God is love, any more than
that (lod is hate ; or that whatever he does is right ;
whatever he wills or permits is wise, just, and benefi-
cent; for this makes ignorance, cruelty, wrong,
injustice, and inmiorality right, being God's will and
suffered by him to exist. Of the three innocent
children of a devoted mother, two of t'^marc burned
to death by fever, but a merciful providence spares her
one, the same merciful providence that burned the
other two.

PJuvih. Ill nothinij is civilization so backward as
in its religions. IMen endowed with reason and intelli-
gence sh(,>uld be ashamed of their crude and illogical
conceptions of the deity. This deity his votaries
make the creator of all realities and ideas, of all
ethics and moralities, on whose fiat alone rest
right and wrong, good and evil, righteousness and
ini(juity, who is above all reason and common sense,
above all equities and moralities, author of all good
and all evil, responsible for all hajipiness and unha))-
I)iness, for all misery and crime, and all cruelties and

PLATO REVISED.

606

and

ent

fiicd

licr

the

injustice in wliicli tlio universe iibountls. Of man
tlieso same votaries make an imperfectly created
beiniij, condenmcd bv his maker as a failure, a tliinij
altoLiether vile and alxMninable, a fallen bcinij, alien to
all oood, but who, throULjh the mediation of another,
is forgiven for what he was in nowise to blame, and
ordered to a perfect course such as was never yet
acliievcd by any god or man. As compared with
their state of advancement no nation of anti(]uity can
boast a theology so barbarous and absurd.

Crito. How, then, reconcih^ any theory of the
origin of evil with the doctrine of a sole and absolute
creator, omnipotent onmiscient, just and holy and
good ?

rih'cdo. They never have Ixcn and never can be rec-
onciled. Argue around the circle as many times as you
will, and you reach always the same conclusion — that
if evil exists, its origin is in the sole creator, who, if
ho is not the author of evil, is not the autlior of all
things; and, if the author of evil, is not all-perfect,
all-wise, and good, as claimed.

Crito. Some have held that without the dual-
istic principle in ethics there could bo no real individ-
uality or strength of character ; tiiat, as in nature,
wc {icQ working in harmony and jxiwht op[)osing
forces, as attraction and repulsion, heat and cold, i)osi-
tivc and negative electricity, so in humanity, moral
stamina and growth re(juire tlie interaction of the
opposing influences of good and evil. Kthicjd [Hilar-
ity is essential to mor;d and intellectual well-being.
Without evil there could be no good, without misery
no ha[)piness.

A})()llodorus. To that I should answer that it
depends upon one's conci'i>ti()n of the nature and power
of the creator. An all-wise and all-poweiful cretitor
can do anything, else he is not all-wise and all-jiower-
ful. Is not God good ? Is he not happy ? Was it
necessary, in order for him to attain his holy est..te,
to undergo this dualistic influence ? And if he exists,

ills

006

PLATO REVISED.

liaving in his nature all the attributes of good and
none of the attributes of evil, being almighty, could
he not have endowed this image of himself, which he
made and called man, with his own perfect qualities
in every respect? God is perfect. Could iie not
have made man perfect, without limitation, without
the necessity of internal conflict with opposing forces,
all implanted by the sole creator, who gives the victory
to whom he will ?

Socrates. You say, Plato, that God, the great
artificer, is a good and perfect being, and created
only what is good and perfect ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Let us examine some of his work — the
first man he made, for exami)le. Call him Adam, if
you do not object to the Hebrew doctrine ; if you
do, the Olympian deities will answer, of whom we
shall speak presently.

I^lafo. We will accept Adam and God, whoever
they were, as terms signifying the first man and the
creator of the universe.

Socrates. Very well. Was Adam created a savage
or a civilized man ?

J*(ato. He w.-s certainly not civilized.

Socrates. At all events, he was pure and holy and
perfect, being fresh from the hand of a pure and holy
and perfect creator.

Plato. It could not be otherwise.

Sorrates. But he fell from his high and happy
estate ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. How came he to so fall ?

Plato. Either through the agency of inferior deities
or through his own indiscretion, the fall in either case
resulting from the seeds of sin implanted in his nature.

Socrates. This Adam was created perfect, it is
alleged ; but, on entering the experiment of exist-

PLATO REVLSED.

697

enco, his course proved iinpurfoct. Could a i)crfectly
created inachiuc, when set in niution, run imperfectly?

Plato. Clearly not.

Socrates. Can a true religion promulgate false
ideas of nature ?

Plato. It cannot.

Hocratcs. Again, the perfect type of an absolute
final cause, created in the inia<jje of and i'^rthe olorv
of its maker, should be, one would think, the best of
its kind — a Thales of Miletus, a Buddha, or a Christ
— instead of which we have an exceedinulv weak
specimen, a vertebrate mammal, with (»rgans and
brain enlightcn(!d only by instinct or intuition, irra-
tional, puerile, deceitful, cowardly, and altogether
contemptible. Given a condition of perfect holiness
and ha))piness, how could he desire more? Yet he
did. Was it childish curiositv, or a thirst for that
knowledge with which his maker failed to endow him,
that prompted him to transgress ? Was this the best
divine power could do? I say it is a disgrace to civi-
lization to hold such crude, unjust, illogical, and absurd
conceptions of its deity.

Plato. Can moral strength and that knowledge
which comes froii' human experience be created ?
Righteousness is a result ; human wisdom springs
from human activities.

Socrates. True, my Plato; but if we once limit the
power of God, in whatsoever manner or degree, and
he ceases to be almighty or onmipotent, he ceases,
indeed, to be God. Now, although you limit the
action of God to the creation of good only, and not
evil, you do not limit his ])ower; or, if you so do or
desire, you fail to maintain your ground. To pro-
ceed with our story, this first-made innocent and
happy man was placed in a garden, and surrounded
with temptations which his maker knew beforehand
he could not and would not resist, the strength never
having been given him to do so. Driven thence,
naked and helpless, without food or shelter, without

fit)

098

PLATO REVISED.

tool or weapon, ho and his doscontlants were doomed
forever to struijjglo witli adverse environment, and all
through no fault of theirs, they having been created
for tliis and no other puri)ose, and never having been
endowed with j)ower to lio othcTwise. These are the
tenets held and promulgated by men who call them-
selves sane.

ylpollodona^. Man must master or be mastered by
the forces around him.

Socraics. Returning to vour book, Plato, in your
liaws you impose heavy penalties for what you call the
crime of sacrilege.

riain. Yes.

Socraics. Why is it a crime to speak against the
gods i

riafo. Because they arc holy, wise, and good.

Sdcrafcs. And yet you say that man is free to do as
he ])leases, so long as he does not injure others.

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Can men hurt or injure the gods ?

Plato. That is impossible.

Socrates. Then it injures only themselves to blas-
pluMne ?

Plato. Certainly.

Socrates. And that they have a right to do ?

Plato. Yes.

Socrates. Then is it just to punish a man for doing
what he has a right to do ?

Plato. Have you nothing else to say, Socrates ?

Socrates. Yes; about your philosophy as to lying.
My dear Plato, why do you permit rulers in yt)ur
republic to lie, and not give the people the same
privilege ?

Plato. Do not men give the gods th n' make more
license in regard to sinninL*' than they take for them-
selves ?

Soo'ates. You say in your Laws that the poets
atul mythologers are not the most truthful interpre-

PLATO REVISED.

tors of tlie gods, wlio indoocl can do no evil, but the
legislator is tlio better judge.

PIdlo. That is true,

Sorrafrs. You ujraiit the I'uler b1i(^ ri^lit to lie,
whicji riijlit of necessity must extend to his deputy
or coadjutor, in which category we may place tlie
legislator.

Plato. You state correctly.

Socrates. This irives the leixislator the leiial ri'jfht

to 1

IC.

PIdto. It does.

Sormtes. But if the legislator has the legal right
to lie, and the poets and niythologers lie without the
legal right, how shall we know when any of them
rightfully or truthfully interpret the gods?

Plato. Wiieii they say what is best for men to
believe, that is the truth, or better than tlie truth.

Socrates. Is a lie ever better tlian tlu; truth :*

Plato. Yes. For example : the world below nmst
not be represented as an unhappy place, else soldiers
will be afraid to die, and so become cowardly.

Socrates. Therefore, itv order to have them bravely
killed you would (Unrn their souls to hell with a lie- ?

Plato. A. lie is excusable opily as a metlieine to
men; then the use of such medicines will have to bo
n^stricted to physicians; private individuals have no
business with them. If any [)ersons are to have the
privilege of lying, either at home or abroad, they
will be the rulers of tlio state; they may be allowed
to lie for the public good.

Socrates. Or if not allowed, they will lie without
permission.

i*lato. Tlu>re is the true Wo and the false lie, th(!
former told for good i)ur[)oses and the latter for bad
purposes.

Socrates. Yet both a Ho, nevertheless.

Plato. There is the lie in action and the lie in
words, the latter being in certain cases useful and not
hurtful.

700

PLATO REVISED.

Socrates. Hear, yo godsl

I'ldto. In the tales of mytlioloji^y, because wc do
not know tlie trutli about ancient tnidition, W(! ninkr
the falsehood as much like truth as may be, and so of
use.

Socrates. O heavens!

Plato. Hast had enough, Socrates?

Socrates. By Jupiter 1 yes; enough of lying and
your explanation thereof

Plato. Proceed, then, to something else if you
have aught more to say.

Socrates. First, confess, my dear Plato, that scores
of pages in your immortal writings were spun from
your prolific brain, without the shghtest foundation
in truth or reason.

Plato. Of such are all teachers and teachings.
Let his imagination be chaste, and his siieech accept-
able, and tlie dealer in dogmas need give liimself no
troul)le as to their truth.

Socrates. What advantage is there if other or
more than the truth is taught?

J^lato. None whatever ; yet such, I say, has ever
been and is the practice of all teachers, who are ever
pretending to know what never has been divulged by
any god or science. I taught some truth and mucli
error, but no more of the latter than is taught to-daj.

Socrates. But why teach error at all ?

Plato. By Jupiter 1 Socrates, will you ask of men
what the gods cannot give ?

SocratC'S. Confined to what may bo known, either
gods or men can tell the truth.

Plato. Yet what oceans of pure pretence they stil!
persist in pouring out, knowing that no sensible per-
son can possibly believe half they say — extolling
charity, humility, poverty, sincerity, justice, holiness,
commanding that men shall love each other, retuin
good for evil, cease from war, but never expecting t<>
see these things done, themselves with the rest invari
ably practising the contrary. Such morality is beau-

PLATO REVISED.

701

Socrates.

Phrdo.

Sncrdtes.

Phivdo.

Socrafcs.

tiful to teach, but of what avail is it if no one ever
[)Uts it into jtractice?

Socrates. Pha3(lo, was tliere ever arclij;ious teacher
whose precepts were fully or even approximately
carried out ?

Phivdn. No, my master.

Socrates. Are strong relis;ionists nenerallv persons
of the hiirhest learnini>: and intellijience in the com-

c- o o

munity?

Phvdo. No.

Socrates. Do they laugh at the ignorance and
superstition of others no worse than themselves?

Plisrdo. Most heartily.

])o they love or hate their enemies?
The}' hate them.

Do they rejoice in their misfortunes ?
They do.
Do they ever feel joy instead of sorrow
over the misfortunes of a friend ?

Plipcdo. Very frequently they feel joy.

Socrates. Are they ever envious or jealous of
thtnr friends ?

Plardo. They are.

Socrates. Do they love or hate their brethren or
associates in religion?

PInrdo. It is aljout the same as with others.

Socrates. That is to sav, in them vou find nothina:
more of the essence and ap[)lication of their belief
than in others?

Pli.Tdo. In place of piety we have profession ; in
place of reason, ritualism.

Socrates. What were the morals of those whose
teachings we deem divine, on whose superstitious
assertions we rest all our hopes of heaven ?

Phxdo. They believed in slavery, practised polyg-
amy, robbed their enemies, killed captives taken in
war, and indulged in all the immoralities and cruel
savagisms of the most ancient theologies.

Socrates. Does any great or small religious sect

702

PLATO REVISED.

pay any attention to the funilainental principles of
their faith, such as unaelfisliness, lioncsty, justice,
rcturninjjf good for evil, and refusing violent resistance
to violence^

Pluvdo. None that I ever heard of.

Socrtdrff. Now for the application. The stoics
ro<j;arded passion as error which the wise would avoid;
to bodily pain or pleasure the mind must be indiffer-
ent. To be a stoic required the possession of these
qualities; as they never were possessed there were
never stoics.

Crlto. Many refined intellects have been crushed
by an enforced reticence which stifled independent
thinkin<j^. sacrificed moral courage, and prevented the
attainment of that full mental stature which lies at
the foundation of our noblest aspirations.

Plmdo. If the so-called truths of relic;ion cannot
be ovcrtlirown, why fear discussion, why such reti-
cence on the part of its teachers whenever the sub-
ject is bnmched ? The trouble is, the teachers
themselves know nothing of the truth of the doctrines
which they profess, cannot with good sense explain
them, and cannot in any wise defend them.

Crito. They explain well where none question,
but wlien proof is demanded they decline to answer.

Phirdo. Doubts and difficulties, they say, beset the
paths of faith.

Onto. Why should there be doubts and difficul-
ties ? Why should the great creator employ subter-
fuge and phantasm for the promulgation of plain
honest truths, which would seem to demand plain
honest explanation ? Of what benefit to religion arc
riddles and the cloudy obscurations of truth ? Why
do men, wise and intelligent in all things else, insist on
saddling such diabolisms on the deity they adore ?

Plifedo. Would not a beneficent being meet every
uplook of a devoted child with an answering smile ?

Crito. The logic of religion is found in those self-

PLATO REVISED.

:(Xi

v'options and illusions which are among the must
precious of man's inheritances.

Pliicdo. In liis moral government men make the
almighty display, to say the least, not the most admir-
able traits of humanity.

Crifo. Theology seldom ap[)eals to the good in
us, hut denounces human nature, makes us degenerate
by inheritance, and hurls upon us the threatened
vengeance of a creator, by whom and through whom
we are what we are.

PJnedo. They g<j further, and make their most benef-
icent creator implant ravening instincts in all his creat-
ures, such as forever urge them on to destrov each
other. They make every work of a perfect being in
some way defective. They construct the crowning
work of a high and holy being on a basis of moral and
physical ruin.

Crito. Nine-tenths of all blood distill' d in the
veins of man and beast has been poured turth as an
oblation to this influence which they say created it.

Pliado. Every crime within the possibility of man
to conceive of, and attended by all the atrocities and
injustices the world of humanity has had at com-
mand, has been committed by believers for the love
of their deity.

Crifo. All the iniquities the gods deny to men,
hate, revenge, robbery and nmrder, their worshippers
permit them to indulge in to their heart's content.

PJia'do. In what actual estimation can men hold
a deity whom they seek by groveling, fawning, flat-
tery, cajolery and bribery, to sway from a pre-
determined purpose, which if wrong proves the god
a bad one, and if right it would make him bad to
deviate from ?

Crito. Why should a superlatively glorious being
desire further glorification by imperfect creatures of
his own construction, which were indeed so vile as
to be condemned and cast away by the maker ?

Pluedo. Over and over atjuin his followers acknowl-

"im

704

PLATO REVISED.

I ^1

(•<lge his errors, lament his failure, and cause him to
\vi|)e out his work in fire or blood.

( 'rilo. To lead a perfect life, to follow a perfect
moral code, implies perfection in man, with all knowl-
edge, self-connnand, and goodness, which these men
make the law-<fiver hi«nself the first to declare as
wholly absent from both the nature and possibilities
of man.

Plindo. In all reliojions reven2re is riijht for tho
creatoi', but not always for the creature. Indra, who
is pleased by praise, and Vishnu, one of the forms of
the sun, are sought, not for their spiritual but for
their material aid. There is no ethical or moral idea
about their worship. Evil abounds, and the gods are
[)raised because they destroy sinners, in which cate-
gory are ])laced those who do not praise and sacrifice
to the gods.

Crifo. It is singular that so many intelligent per-
sons should hold some one particular collection of
absurd fancies atid superstitions true, and all other
collections false.

I*lin'<h. Strange indeed are the ways of the world,
when viewed as the work of perfect wisdom, love,
and power, this slowly unfolding and most defective
earth, with its rattlesnakes and tigers and tigerish
humanity, its progressions by births and deaths, its
religions of loves and hates, of ravenous selfishness,
ruthless carnage, and ever-improved death-dealing
contrivances.

Kvcvvs. The first man was made upright, but he
fell under the temptations of evil.

Crito. Why did God allow the evil to tempt this
man ?

Krnms. To try him.

Crito. Why did he wish to try him ?

Evr7)vs. To make him a responsible creature.

(^ri(o. Could not God have made him a responsi-
ble creature in the first place ?

Evcnud. That was no part of his purpose,

PLATO HEVISED.

705

Crito. How know you liis purpose ?

Eveuus. From his acts.

Crito. Arc liis acts good or bad ?

Evcmis. Tlic liolv one cannot tolerate evil.

Crito. Am I not responsible for a wronix I can
prevent, and will not?

Ercnns. Undoubtedly.

Crito. Your religion needs a little patching here,
my friend. Your creator knowingly makes a creature
not strong enough to withstand the temptation })re-
viously pre[)ared for his eternal entrapment. Tell me,
my good Evenus, how it is, when wc see the universe,
material and moral, held together by opposing forces,
attraction and rejjulsion, good and evil, or whatsoever
they may be called, that one deity can be absolute
over all, without the several parts of his nature being
divided against themselves, and antagonistic one to
the other '{

J'JroiHS. We cannot understand all t)f God's ways,
or fathom all of his mysteries.

Crito. That, m^' friend, is a mere evasion of the
difficulty. You make a deity, and endow him with
attrii)utes, the most of which you explain clearly
enough to your own satisfaction ; but where your
plan is defective, incongruous, contradictory, absurd,
f)r utterly impossible, instead of frankly admitting its
im[)erfection and revising your religion so as to biing
it within the [)ale of connnon sense, you avoid the
issue by hiding (Jod behind an impenetrable veil of
mystery, (iod is either the author of all or otdy of
part ; he is the master of evil or else not omnipotent;
to say that you cannot understand why, hating evil
and being able instantly to extinguish it, he permits
it, is to place yours(!lf and your deity in fals(> posi-
tions and render both ridiculous. It is true that
si)nie thinofs about vour deitv you think you under-
stand, while n^garding others you think otherwis(\
The fact is, you know nothing about God, and in
rommon sense and common honesty you should

E88AY8 AND MltirULLANV 45

ii'I J

7f6

PLATO REVISED.

frankly admit as much, instead of weaving fantastic
theories whicli leave him in a maze of absurdities,
when in truth you are obliged after all to admit that
you know nothing about it.

Phirdo. Shall you ever make a deity, Socrates ?

Not until I can improve upon any now

On what would you base a rational God ?

On nature.
But there are two elements in natures —

y^ocratcs.
existino".

Phinlo.

k^n crates.

r/mlo.
good and evil.

Socraks. Then I would have two gods, (;r one
god with two sides or two natures, open and antago-
nistic ; such as we see cvory where in the universe. 1
would not ascribe all good qualities to his attributes,
and all bad qualities to his actions. Throughout the
universal realm of dim intelligence it is most conven-
ient for learned iijnorance to have a God with wlioni
all things are possible, and whose waj's are past find-
ing out. Witli the principles of good and evil abroad, it
is necessary in every well-ordered religion either to hr.vo
two supreme deities of about equally balanced powcis
that are eternallv anta<jonistic, thou'>h neither can
ever wholly overthrow the other, or else to make the
one suiireme deitv father of the evil and author of all
wickedness. For clearly, if there be but one, and he
the author of all, he must of necessity be the origina-
tor and preserver of evil as of good. Further tlian this.
being onmipotent and permitting evil, is to be dirc^ctly
responsible for it ; so that on any ground it is impossi-
ble that God slunild not be held absolutely resi)onsii)l('
for all the sin and miserv as well as the riixhtcousiit^s
and happiness of all. The truth is, the worshippers of'
(Jod put forth all their efforts to invest his nature
with the most monstrous incongruities.

PJmth). Of the senseless and absurd infatuations
man has indulged in during his long journey from
protoplasm to his present state of not too high intd-
lectualitv, his religions have been the most nonsensical.

PLATO RKVISED.

707

What with the savagisms of tlic supernatural, perse-
cutions fur opinion's sake, bloody wars, and hateful
revenges, and all under pretence of piet}', self-sacrifice,
justice, and the special cnjt>yinent if tlio favor of the
king of heaven, wo have made up a catalogue of self-
delusions that is almost incredible,

Crito. And still the infatuation continues.

ApoIJocJorv.'^. The maxims of all gods nmst bo better
than their practice; else man who made them would
bo tlieir inferior, whicji has never y<-t hocn tlio case.
If a man were not better than his creed he would bo
driven from society.

(h'ifo. Is there more of good or of evil in the;
world ?

J'Jrrmts. I should say thoy were about equally bal-
anced.

Socrafcff. These two principles liuve ever been at
war; istliere any gain of (Mie u[)on the other?

EvcnU'\ It cannot be so demonstrated.

Socrates. This is not a perfect world l

Evrmis. Anyone can sec that it is not.

Sii('rnf''s. Is it possible for a perfect being to be
the author of an imperfect work ?

Ernwa. No, I tliiidc not.

Socrafrs. And yet CJod is perfect i

Evemix. UiHpiestionably.

Socrates. And his woik imperfect.

Eirmis. Wo see evidences about us of ituperfcxtion.

Socrates, It is an inadmissible pro])osition that a
perfect b(>ing should execute or sustain an imperfect
work. It is no more possible for perfection to breed
imperfection than for perfection to be e!ig(M)(ler»'d
un<kr any other than faultless conditions. If, while
just an<l holy, God is su[)reme, there is no [)lace
wherein it is possible for iniquity and injustic(^ to
exist ; if while he hates evil God is su])re!ne, evil can-
not exist. If famine and pestilence are abroad, if
robbery, slavery, imirder, and death abound, they ar»'
the wish, will, and work of the almighty; if the evil

tit

708

PLATO REVISF.n.

lives, it lives alone by the sustaining power of tlu
almighty, by virtue of the ahuighty's will, and for tl
purpose of doing what it does, which is to sow mi.s-
chief, and tempt and destroy other of God's creatures.
Thus he who is called perfect justice makes birds,
and beasts, and fishes, the strong to prey upon tlu;
weak, and among men the cunning to circumvent the
simple, and devils to torture and devour all over
whom they may by the grace of God gain dominion.

Evenus. We cannot fathom all the mysteries of
the almighty.

Socrates, If you ran fathom any of them why
cannot you fathom them all ; is not one mystery as
mysterious as another ?

Evenus. Some things God has explained; others
he has not revealed.

Socrates. Has he revealed to you anything ?
Yes.
Has he revealed to you his loving kind-

Evenus.
Socrates.
noss ?
Evenus.
Socrates.

Yos.

It is a mark of loving kindness to make
a world full of misery, life itself being sustained by
sufferings and death ?

Evenus. We caimot understand.

Socrates. Then why pretend that you understand ;
why make statements and pro})agate beliefs wjiieh so
contradict each other that they cannot be true :'
God, you say, is onmiscient, knowing the end from
the beginning.

Everms. Yes.

Socrates. And you say he is wise ?

Evenus. Yes.

Socrates. What would you say of a wise and good
man who knowingly and intentionally brought to
pass innumerable dire disasters and atrocities, calmly
doing the things he most of all abhorred, fosterinij
what he most hated, and punishing, so far as he was

PLATO REVISED.

709

able, evil agents which lie had made to do the evil,
and could not help so doing '{

Eveniis. Such could not be.

Socrates. Are modern religionists generally men of
sound minds?

Evemv^. They are far above the average intelli-
gence of men throuuhout the world.

Socrates. Then 1 am sorry for the world, and have
ajjain to thank the hendock. For these whose reliiiion
appears to have been made up of parts of older beliefs,
and partaking of the incongruities and contradictions
of them all, set up for themselves a deity claiming all
[terfections in power, knowledge, benevolence, holi-
ness, and justice, yet the author of evil, or if not, then
not the author of all nor supreme creator — in any
event permitting evil, and thereby making himself a
party to it ; with pretended omnipotence, [)retcnding
to hate unto death an adversary whom he permits to
live, and tempthig and tormenting his children whom
purposely, out of hi.s infinite loving kindness and
tender mercy, he created too weak to withstand tlie
temptation, God knowing all the time that the vast
majority of his people would fall and be punished in
endless agony.

Evcnus, An omniscient Cjod knows the end from
the beginning — knows all that will come to pass
before the WH)rld is made.

Socrates. Even so; wliatcver happens must have
liappened. And yet the creature is made responsible
for what the creator com[)els him tt» do, and punishes
him for doing.

Crito. In attempting to make known his will, the
creator cither intended man should understand or he
did not; if the former, then the creator should either
have spoken plainer, or else have rendered the per-
ceptive faculties of man more acute ; if the latter,
men cannot be held responsible for not comprehend-
ing what their maker did not wish or expect them to
comprehend Nor do I see how in any event the

1 " .!' 1

710

PLATO REVISED.

fault can bo the creature's, to whom has never
been given suffieient evidence on which to base a
reasonable oj)inion ; for surely if the creator did not
wish to have his people mystified on this most momen-
tous subject ho would have enlightened them, and if
ho did not wish them to use their reasoning faculties,
he never would have fonnulated them. He who made
the mind could so reveal himself to the mind as to leave
no doubt ; he who formulated reason could so address
reason as to satisfy reason.

ApollodoTiiK. Ah, I see I As Lucian in his Sale
of the Philosopliers says of the boy who, in crossing a
river, is seized by a crocodile, the captor promises to
give him up to his father if the father will rightly
guess what the crocodile is going to do with him. Now
if the father guesses that the crocodile means to
restore the boy, the guess is wrong, ft)r the beast
inearis to cat him. If the father guesses the croco-
dile is going to cat him, clearly the guess would 1 e
wrong should the crocodile give him up. And again,
Plowden, the priest, could not be punished for attend-
ing mass performed by a layman, because mass so
performed, without the offices of priests, was no mass ;
and therefore Plowden did not attend mass, and
could not be punished for doing what he did not do.
And so on.

Socrates. I find written in your Republic, Plato,
that we nmst not listen to Homer, or to any otlu i'
poet who intimates or is guilty of the folly of saying that
God is the dispenser t)f good and evil ; and that of tin-
evils the cause is to be sought elsewhere, and not in
him. And you say, if any one asserts that the viola-
tion of oaths and treaties, of which Pandarus was t\w.
real author, was brought about by Athene and
Zeus, or that strife among the fjods was instiuated by
Themis and Zeus, he shall not have your approval ;
neither will you allow our young men to hear the
words of -^schylus that God ])lants guilt among the

PLATO REVISED.

711

men he desires to destroy. And if a poet writes of the
surt'erings of Niobe, which is the subject of the tragedy
in which these iambic verses occur, or of the house
of Pelops, or of the Trojan war, or any similar theme,
either we must not permit him to say that tliese are
the works of God, or if they are of God he nmst
devise some sucli expLanation of them as we are seek-
ini; ; lie nmst sav that God did what was just and
right, and they were the better for being punished ;
but that those who are punished are miserable, and
God is the author of their misery — the poet is not to
be permitted so to say, though he may say that the
wicked are miserable because they require to be ])un-
ishod and are benefited by receiving [»unishment from
God ; but that God being good is the author of evil
to anyone, that is to be strenuously denied, and not
allowed to be sung or said in any well-ordered com-
monwealth by old or young.

Plato. We nmst shield the good name of God.

Socrates. Why must we shield his good name i
he is wiser and better and stronger than man, cannot
he take care of his own reputation ?

Plato. He works not in that way. Troubled you
yourself regarding your reputation, Socrates, while
in Athens ? Neither troubles God himself over many
other things which throw the minds of men into
confusion.

Socrates. You are like all the rest, Plato, you can
discourse with some degree of common sense upon
any system of theology except your own.

Plato. If, Socrates, amid the many o[)inions about
the gods and the generation of the universe, we are
not able to give notions which are in every way exact
and consistent with one another, do not be surprised.
Enough if we adduce probabilities as likely as any
otlun's, for we nmst remember that we are only
mortal men, and ouglit to accept the tale which is
probable and not inquire further.

712

PLATO REVISED.

Socrates. That were the answer of a common
priest, but not of Plato.

Plato. In religion Plato is no better than a priest.

Socrates. When you admit the necessity of explain-
ing the motives of the gods, and of defending their
seemingly impious and iniquitous ways ; and when
you declare further, as is written in the Laws, that
gods and temples are not easily established, and to
establish them rightly is the work of a mighty
intellect, were you not even then of opinion that gods
and theogonios are made by men ?

Plato. God and his ways nmst be set right before
ignorant men, who otherwise go astray in their con-
ceptions of the nature and attributes of the deity.

Socrates. Cannot God, if he chooses, reveal him-
self to the ignorant as well as to the wise ? You say
that Homer and the poets are not to be believed,
and the ignorant are not to bo trusted. Truly you
bring the power of God within narrow limits, like-
wise the possibilities of men.

Plato. Well, then, let the gods take care of them-
selves, and let ignorance and superstition breed if
they bring happiness.

Socrates. Ye gods! is this Plato, whilom called the
divine, the reputed lover of truth, holding in abhor-
rence whatsoever obscured the light of life and
reason ? To me the hemlock is nectar beside iioblets
of delicious deceit.

Plato. I do not say that I love lies, or for mj'self
prefer the pleasures of superstition to unpalatable
truth ; nor do I say that I would rather drink hem-
lock than good wine, or have a fancy for teaching
toads the glory of the stars. Leave swine to their
wallow, and let only those who choose come out
upon the plain of universal actuality, even though
the horizon lacks mirage, and no celestial city shines
beyond the sk3^

Socrates. But, my Plato, how are men to know
truth from error if they are not told ?

the

PLATO REVISED.

713

Plato. Who is to tell tlieni, O Socrates ? How
much of truth know you ? How much know I ?
And what advantage over ours had earlier and tlarkcr
aufes? In matters whereof none can know aught, it
phrases some to pretend to a knowledge for which
there is no warrant. Ancient lies, long wrapped in
popular formulas, become things sacred, which to (|ues-
tion is sacrilege. Then, as civilization advances, and
a little light l)reaks in upon the n:ind, to fit the ever-
lessoning renmant of these absurdities to the indis-
putable truths of sciinice becomes a fine art, to which
many thousands of worthy men devote their lives,
regarding it as highly meritorious to fill in with new
fancies the gaps caused by the demolitio!i of progress.

Socrates. Dost thou, then, the divine teacher,
discourage meditation, and the analysis thereof?

Plato. In so far as it tends to fasten upon the
minds of men the foibles and fables of antiquity as
holy and everlasting truths, I do. ]\Iost reforms
are killed by the reformers. Indeed, my master, will
not the earth revolve, the sun sliine, and waters flow
witliout so nmch agony and bloody sweat oii the part
of those who measure their knowledge bv the it:no-
ranee of others, and who find so much to improve in
the creator's work, wliich originally was pronounced
very good ? It is by no means an established propo-
sition that mankind has been benefited by these
strained eHbrts of priests, reformers, salvation saints,
and all that army of evil-exterminators who harnosy
infernal agencies to the chariot of the J^ord, and who
have been so diligentlv at work to batter down the
walls of Satan's stronghold ever sinc(> the i(ka got
abroad that there were such beings and [)la(< s in this
fair universe. With what niatcldess confidence the
creature exponn<ls the mind and heart of the creator
to the less favored of his race. Truly, it is among
the iirnorant, the tliouirhtless, tlie unreasoning that
religions most do flourish ; indeed, never vet wn,s a
new religion established among the more intelligent,

714

I'LATO UKVISED.

il'!

C'ducattMl, and refined of a ooniniunity. Turn into a
field the youn*^ asses, and set the old asses braying
at them ; is tlie breed improved thereby i By any
amount of prayer and exhortation ean tlie trees be
made to bear better and larger fruit i Is man, then,
so much worse than animals and plants? Has human
clay in the han<ls of the alnwghty become so sliU'cncd
as to re(|uire the assistance of men in the further
tashioning ?

iSocmti's. So it would seem, IMato.

Plato. On the whole, is it not presumptuous on
the part of one portion of humanity to regard them-
selves in spiritual matters as the teachers and n>gu-
lators of the otiier portion ( What knowledge of the
unknowable had the earlier comers to this planet
that the later comers liave not ? What more knows
the man in the pulpit on Sunday of the abstract
thcolouv which he (.liscusses than the maii who carries
bricks on Saturday? He talks better, but how mucli
more does he know ? What can the one learn from
his books of that which is hidden in utter darknes.^
that the other cannot learn from his bricks? "Can
we explain what we see and are conscious of by refer-
ring it to what we do not see and are not c(>nscious
of?" asks one. What is rehgious study but an
attempt at reasoning from false jtremises, or no prem-
ises, a manipulation of uncertainties and absurdities ;'

Socnifcs. Religion is maiTs necessity, though so
often the subterfuge of a hypocrite.

Plato. Natural or true religion, yes ; but not the
creeds interwoven of demons and deities of worse
natures than the men who make them; creeds fornui-
lated in half-savage societies, and drawn into a thread
to mark the only safe path across the narrow isthnms
of our lives.

Socrafca. For all tliat, the moral element will have
its ideality, howsoever the progressional may be able
to work without it.

Plato. Grant it be so ; but give not to its absurd

I'LATO r.KVISEP.

715

inventions aliniglity and iniinaculato powers, wliieli,
it' so bo any such ever existed, and desind the regen-
eration of tlie world, they would long since have
aecoDiplishod it. Neither intellectual nor religious
culture has the moralizing effect usually attributed
to it. And if religionists would liave the res[)ect of
the intelligent, they must do sonietliing besides hold
in mute abhorrence tlu>sc who differ from tlicm in
opinion, and insist upon the truth of tlogmas which
nature and reason declare false, until there are given
to us other and l)etter means than reason and nature
for determining truth.

Socrates. It would seem in your opinion, then, that
there are no homst teachers of religion i

Plato. Yes, many, ignorantly honest, for the intel-
ligently honest nmst needs immediately stop the
present kind of teaching. There is a class of al)le
men who, fearinijr starvation, stru»jurle with their
spiritual as with their material difficulties, coercing
conscience, explaining away unfulfilled ])r(>phecits
and j>ali>al)le contiadictions, and striving in every
way to twist the statements of holy books tt) lit tlio
facts of science, or \n'c versa. There are in tliis
world some expounders of religion who are It'lly
minded and holy men —whatsoever this latter teiin
may signify — whose lives are an oblation. There art;
some religious peoj)lo who are honest; but lucu of
the world have learned not to trust to the religion
that is in a person for the payment of a debt. So
with our religious teachers. The moral sense of
many of tlnin is warped, being chained to tradition,
and made to walk lietween high walls of dogniiis.
Many of them are openly dishonest, it being a small
matter in their opinion for a servant of the almighty
to appropriate to his own use the fruits of the
ahniirhtvV handiwork wherever ho mav find them.
Men preach too much and practise too little, my
master.

I 1 !

Ill

716

TLATO REVISED.

Socrates. I fear tlmt you niul your pliiloso[»liy arc
soiiK'Nvhat clianged, my Plato.

Plato. I liokl it wisdom to change ideas and opin-
ions as evidence changes. "Have an opinion and
liold to it," is a maxim which has tilled the work!
with fanatics. Lacking the brains to forniuluto
ci)rr('(t oi)inions yourself, take another's and liold
to them, even though they come from ancient igno-
ramuses whose superstiticm time hallows. Evidence
matters not, nor yet a knowable or provable propo-
sition. No, mv dear master. Ho nmst be more than
(Jod or less than man wlio never has occasion to
cluiiige his opinions. When the Ionic gods of Homer
and the Doric gods of He.siod could not stand the
test of philosophic encpiiiy, pious men became infu-
riated. Euripides was charged with heresy, nnd
i3i]schvlus threattmed with .stoning to death for bias-
phemy. Only fools and fanatics never change.

Socrates. How is it written hi your book ?

rialo. My book 1 Cast not hi my teeth my book.
1>\- .)u|»itcr! I will revise my book. Every book
sliould he revised once in two thousand vcars.

Socrates. But will vou not revise vour reliijion ?

Plato. No. Keligions revise themselves, forced
tliereto bv tliat inexplicable unfoldin«jf of the intellect
called civilization. Jleligions make hooks, ami books
j)erpetuate religions; but long after the religion has
departed tlie book remains, which, if not changed to
fit luvv conditions becomes obsolete, inculcating igno-
rance and superstition.

Socrates. How ? If a book teaches ignorance and
superstition at the last, did it not so at the first?

Plafo. Yes. But savages and the simple-minded
seem to require a solution of superstition in their
intellectual nutriment which the more advanced minds
do not demand. Books tend to jiieserve the forms
of religion long after the essence is gone, to enforce
the power of religion long after its fiilsehoods are
exposed, to keep alive lip service conforming to the

PLATO IIKVISKI),

717

ocl

l>arl)nnsma of anticjuity loiii^ uftor ol\ llizutloii lias
fc)rl)i(kli'ii in(lul«^iMic(' in sarnnl savaj^isms.

^^o('rat(^s. Imlcod, my IMuLo, 1 have slci>t. For I,
thy former teachi>r, find myself appealing to tluM' for
iiistructlon. Thus it is, ever and forever, the new
t(!aelies the old ; the old reiteratt s, the new unfolds.
In learnin«jj and intellect the ancients were <»nce ,!;;ods;
now they arc babes; for besides the searching' loj^^ic
of modern science their a[»horisms and doctrines arc
but gilded superstition, as many of th(»se of the
present day will be regariled three hundied y(>ars
hence. Yet I do i)elieve thai in form and idttdity
the ancients are still the world's teachers, howevt r
in the knowledge of matter, and the art of its subser-
vience to the requirements of man, they mav have
been outstripped by more material niinds during these
ctmturies of practical progress,

Plato. ]\Ien make their ijods bv slow dcj^rces,
without knowing it, endowing them with so-called
superior attributes, and soon coming to think that
the gods made them, that they are beings to l)e pi-tted
and I'rayod to, coaxed, cajoled, bribed, and bepraisc d
without limit or reason, and not to l)e disturl)cd in
their sage and eternal cogitations by prying |»hilos-
ophcrs. Men arc nowhere so sensitive as about their
religion, especially when calhnl ujion to prove it.
What did you expect to gain, Socrates, hy obtruding
your good sense upon those bhx'kheads of Athens?

Socrates. I was not in search of gain ; that, ]Mato,
you know well enough. And truly the hemlock
harmed me not; I needcnl sleep. But how knew
Melitus what I did not believe ? How know I what
I believe ? Knowing not I denied not ; knowing
naught I affirmed naui>ht. Plato, can one believe
what one cannot apprehend ?

Plato. By the gods I no. Belief comes from evi-
dence, from a knowledixe of facts. Where the facts
are not made evident there can be no belief. What
men call faith, or belief iu the unseen and unknown,

718

PLATO REVISED.

is but tlie blindness of bigotry; tlie greater the
ignorance and stupidity, the greater such faith. Dogs
bark because other do<is bark.

ISocrates. As well so as to follow Anaxagoras when
ho cries, "Nothing can be known, nothing can bo
learned, nothing can be certain ; sense is limited,
intellei t is weak, life is short." Or still worse, to
hold with Gorgirts of Leontini the doctrines of utter
nihilism, that nothing exists, or if existing cannot be
known, or if known the knowledge cannot be imparted.
There is the testimony of iimer consciousness, which
you say may be aljove that of reason. More people
trust to their feelings than to their reason. They
know a thing to be so because all their inner sense
tells them it is so.

]*l<ito. Not necessarily. Either God and heaven
exist or they do not, and the fact is not affected by
anv one's belief Therefore the inner consciousness
which affirms the non-existence of spiritual intelli-
gences goes as far to prove the fact as the inner
consciousness which is certain of their existence.

Crito. Some say that because all n)en believe in a
supreme deity — which, indeed, is not true — therefore
there nmst be one.

l*l(it(). If believing a thing makes it true, then is
the earth flat, and in the center of the universe, with
all the heavenly bodies revolving round it, and hell
in its bowels ; for all men once so believed. There
are ghosts and witches, spirits in the air, miracles
evcrv dav ; if what men believe makes a thing true,
then arc the religions of savagism true. ]Mf)ham-
njodanism and Buddhism and Confucianism are true,
for more m«^n believe in these religions than in any
others. If there is anything in this argunient, then
the majority must rule, and everybody knows that
the masses of mankiiid are dolts, stupidly ignorant
and superstitious. Were a child, in the ordinary
affairs of life, to act as do men in their religions, and

PLATO REVISED.

719

upon no better evidence, he would be beaten with
rods.

Crito, But men have Imd an orisjjin, and tliey
would know it ; not beiM;^ able to know it, they prefer
to L;ive reins to the imagination and create a theory
out of nothin<5 than to oti'er no explanation.

rinvdo. Whoever theorizes ui)on origin must
citlier assume tlio eternity of matter in a chaotic state
or else a maker ; if tlie former, tlion a designer of
spliires and organisms is wanting; if the latter, a
creator of the creator must be found. This not being
possible, from the beginning men liave gone on
deceiving themselves with no startifig point and no
ground to stand on, putting forth the most absurd
arguments, building magnificent castles on no founda-
tion whatever.

ApoUodonis. Every nllgion and every philosophy
answers as well as asks the question, VVhat and
whence is man ? Every barbarian is expected to
have ready his creed, every savage his solution of
creation and the origin aiid dc^stiny of man, every
faith its Ljreat intellii'ence and its lessstT intelligences
by which all things were ma(h\ Arguments upon the
vaiious theories and speculations which have been
advanced have derived their force mor(> from tlic
leaining and skill of the advocates than from any
force of reason in the positions taken ; and so far as
tlu! most enliglitcned, unl)inscd Judgment can deter-
mine, one hyp(»thesis is i)Mt litth^ nearer the truth
tliau ant)ther. Our own religious belief, the only true
faith, man's sole salvation in time past and in time to
come, wo learn to eln rish as a truth fixed and
unrliangcablo as the eternal hills; and yet in com])ari-
son to tlio thousands of ages since the advent of man
U[)on the earth, all cree<ls and faiths are but of
yesterday, and are, like the eternal hills, daily and
visibly und«>rgoing change.

Crlif). That man niakes his religion and is even
now making it, we may [>luinly see. Nations, and to

- ^

720

PLATO nrvisED.

some extent individuals, have each their religion.
Look at the millions of pcnates in the homes of Asia,
every family having its joss and every hamlet a joss-
liouse. Were tliere one only omnipotent and omnls-
tieiit creator, the author of all men, lover of truth ;
hater of ignorance, crime and human debasement;
hater of the wars and horrible deeds committed for
and in the name of reliijion ; were there one onlv
wise and benevolent father of all, clearly there would
be but one religion. A good, kind, loving creator
could by no possibilitj'^ permit for one moment the
stupendcms evils, the woes and v>'ickednef:s attendant
on an ignorance of our oriurin and originator,

riuvdo. True ; whether a self-created creator or
eternal matter evt)lving into life and intelligence be
author of all, the problem is equally puzzling. With
all the meditations and discussions, the quarrellliigs
and social convulsions, the slavery of soul and body,
and slau'j[hters of innocent millions attendant on the
effort to ascertain and enforce opmions concerning
man's origin and destiny, we have this reflection for
our consolation that not the slightest advance has
been made from the creation of the world until now.
Many learned men think they know the truth, and, as
they believe, preach it ; but it is clear to an impartial
observer that they know absolutely nothing, can agree
upon nothing, and are in no way making any ])r()gress,

Crito. Is it better to know the truth or not to
know it ?

Socrates. Truth is better than falsehood. It is
wiser to know and meet an unwelcome truth than to
harbor and place hopes upon a lie.

Crito. Is not the Santa Claus an iimocent fable
for children ?

Socrates. The pleasing lies of religion may be
harmless if presented as lies; but if presented as
truths they ])ervert the mind, weaving round it d
web of superstition which a lifetime is often too short
to clear away.

Cr
and fc
Sac
gion,
knowi
men

Phr
idea
Sc,
laws

PJui

nature,

which

been I

superns

omnipo

to play

Socra

trarj'-, ir

never ej

turies a<

some re

Pfued(

Socrai

What w

we call I

its cause

The sui

thunder,

supernat

as scienc

is yet to

spirits to

chemicali

and the

unproved

Plisedo.

ties whog

PLATO REVISED.

721

Criio. If the world is ever to hug its falsehoods
and follies, how is there ever to be progress ?

Socrates. There is no intellectual progress in reli-
gion, except in casting it off. When nature is fully
known there will be no more supernatural ; when
men become as gods there will be no more religion.

Phrdo. Socrates, may I ask, what is the general
idea of the supernatural ?

Scrr lies. That which is above or outside of the
laws of nature.

Phsedo. Man made the gods and the gods made
nature, giving fixed and unutterable laws thereto,
which to the best of our knowledge have never onco
been broken or suspended. Now who made tho
supernatural ; or was it something left over after
omnipotence had made nature, that he might have it
to play with, to do with just as he pleased ?

Socrates. No such quality is known ; on the con-
trary, increase of knowledge only dispels superstitions,
never establishing one of them, although a few cen-
turies ago the world was full of them, and there are
some remaining yet.

Pluedo. Is there then no supernatural ?

Socrates. None whatever so far as discerned.
What we know we call natural ; what we know not
we call supernatural ; but when the supernatural in
its cause and effect is explained, it becomes natural.
The sun, and stars, and sky, the interior earth,
thunder, lightning, storm, and pestilence, all lately
supernatural, are now natural ; and so the rest will be
as science continues to dispel illusions. The telescope
is yet to be invented which shall bring ghosts and
spirits to the eye of common-sense and reason ; the
chemicals have yet to be niixed for an actual miracle,
and the first answer to prayer remains as yet
unproved.

Plisedo. Will not any one of the numberless divini-
ties whose attributes and deeds are recorded in the

B8BAY8 AND MI8CKU.ANY 46

il :1

722

PLATO REVISED.

sacred books ever establish a kingdom of the super-
natural ?

Socrates. When such an appearance presents itself
to my senses and reason, these not failing me, I shall
apprehend it. Until something supernatural is once
brought home to my mind so that it shall appear to
it as outside or beyond the control of nature, I shall
feel myself obliged to refer all unexplained phe-
nomena to the category of things not yet known, and
an}' pretended explanation thereof to the other cate-
gory of fraud and superstition.

Phsedo. You, O Socrates, who prize virtue before
doctrine, and with whom knowledge is akin to hap-
piness, tell me, I pray you, how distinguish wisdom
and religion ?

Socrates. Wisdom is the knowledge of nature ;
religion the recognition of and obedience to the forces
of nature.

Plksedo. AxsA where there are many religions?

Socrates. Creeds are many ; religions are one. To
think correctly and act honestly is the sum of all
religions. Righteousness and love are the basis of all
moralities. To live a life of justice and temperance
is to rise superior to all creeds, or render useless
prayers for personal favors with every kind of stored
selfishness.

Phscdo. What is prayer ?

Socrates. Prayer is an effort on the part of the
creature to influence his creator, an eflbrt on the part
of the changeable to turn from his purpose the
unchangeable, an effort on the part of the ignorant
and sinful to bring the author of all wisdom and
righteousness to conform to the creature's conceptions
of duty and morality.

Plato. Nay, more ; if the world and all its ways
are not as they should be, if all that is is not right,
if might is not right, if evil is not good, and injustice
the purest equity, then an appeal to the author of all
to revolutionize affairs and improve upon himself is

PLATO REVISED.

78d

reducing omnipotence, omniscience, and all-holiness to
most contemptible proportions.

Crito. Give us your definition of reli«j;ion, Plato.

Plato. Religion is the attempted circumvention of
the unknowable.

Crito. How does it originate ?

Plato. Throuorh fear.

Crito. What is its aim ?

Plato. The highest, holiest, and purest selfishness.

Crito, Socrates, if man makes his gods, of what is
he afraid ?

Socrates. He does not know that he makes them ;
he thinks that chey made him.

Crito. It is safe to say that sanctified selfishness
is the root of all religion.

Phxdo. What is the highest morality ?

Socrates. An enlightened selfishness. That man
is moral who follows his true interests.

Plixdo. You agree with Crito that selfishness is
the root of all religion ?

Socrates. Yes.

Plaio. How then do morality and religion differ
in this respect ?

Socrates. Morality is enlightened selfishness, reli-
gion unenlightened selfishness.

Pluedo. Are all the highest and holiest affections
of man based on selfishness ?

Socrates. If there is any idea, sentiment, passion,
feeling, hope, or aspiration in heaven or earth, in the
human or the divine breast, which traced back to its
source and followed on to its consummation does not
begin and end in selfishness, I have yet to discover it.

Plisedo. What is man's highest good ?

Socrates. To know the knowable, and bow before
the unknowable without pretending to fathom it.

Phxdo, What is holiness ?

Socrates. Conducting ourselves in accord with our
surroundings ; and this also is jut^tice, goodness, and
truth.

{■:

724

PLATO REVISED.

Phasdo. Pray tell me, O Socrates I What are
progress, civilization, evolution ?

Socrates. They belong to the unexplained mys-
teries.

Plisedo. The several religionists claim each that
it is the child of their faith ; that outside of their
system there is no increase of knowledge.

Socrates. That cannot be ; for it is well known
that the whole strength of every religion is employed
to crush independent thought and hamper progress.
Science opens the door of nature and spreads before
the understanding of men the beauties and mysteries
of the universe, while faith closes the eyes that the
heart may receive unreal assurance and the mind
vain imaginings.

PliR'do. Is progress the offspring of good or evil ?

Socrates. Of both. Good and evil are to intellect-
ual progress what attraction and repulsion are to the
equipoise of planets and the evolution of material
tilings. If in human nature there was but one prin-
cijtle, progress never could be generated.

Plato. From friction comes heat, and from heat
mentality. From mutual helpfulness and antagonisms
coine ethical as well as naturri evolution.

Phsedo. Were all religions one, would religion die ?

Socrates, There is but one religion. Dogmas die,
and the world can well spare them ; but religion, or
the recognition of the true and beautiful in nature,
can never die so long as intelligence lasts, and the
objects of its fear, love, hate, and admiration cease to
exist.

Phxdo. But surely refined religion is an aid to
progress.

Socrates. So it is usually maintained ; but history
teaches the contrary. As a rule, people low in the
scale of intelligence are the most religious, and when
their religion becomes well refined there is but little
loft of it. In due time they ascertain that they must
either renounce progress or renounce a religion which

iilin

PLATO REVISED.

78B

hampers progress. But progress is omnipotent, uni-
versal, and eternal, and will not be restrained.
Progress is God. Your manufactured creeds, if you
do not renounce them, will in due time renounce vou.

Plixdo. The world still lies sunk in error, all based
upon supposed self-interest.

Socrates. It is the peculiarity of persons strong in
the faith, that, believing their religion to be the only
true one, and under the exclusive protection of the
almighty, it will in time overturn all its enemies, and
fill the whole earth. Such is not the testimony of
history. Religions come and go; like all things else
are born and die. Were it otherwise, why is it
that the only true faith, whatever that is, has not
long ere tliis achieved universality ? Why is it that
it has not ahvavs been one and universal ? Time
enough surely has elapsed, and there has been no
lack of op[Mtrtunity ; but in every instance when a
refined people, witli the most refined religion, have
reached a certain point, they begin to fall away from
it, and their gods vanish into tliin air.

Crito. So, then, if there be only one true theory
of the supernatural, as every religionist claims, the
thousand others being false, as all agree, palpable
reality, its essence and influence, is as plain in one as
in another, and from their effect on man, and the
regulation of terrestrial affairs, the existence of one
is as susceptible «)f proof as that of another.

Phfvdo. That is clear. The religion of others to
us is a liugo joke. Our own is quite a different mat-
ter. For example, when wo read how Pronietheus
made man out of nmd, after the deluge of Deucalion,
Minerva helping hini, Jui)iter standing by issuing the
orders, and the wind blowiuij into the thinyr the
breath of life, the serpent Python being made of the
f-ame mud, which was very plentiful about that time,
we wonder how people so learned and intelligent as
the Greeks could have believed such stuff.

Crito. The Egyptians were considerate enough to

728

PLATO REVISED.

create a deity for their dogs, which, like the cats,
were sacred in that section, thus saving the very
ancient and honorable society for the prevention of
cruelty to animals much trouble along the Nile.
Anubis, he was called ; and no doubt the dogs of
Egypt took much comfort in him, howling to him
nightly for plenty to eat here, and after this life a
high place in his heaven ; fighting for him, cliasing
away his enemies, and thanking their masters always
for giving them so great a hope of eternal comfort.

Socrates. Of necessity man must make his own
gods, and upon his own model. He has no other
way to get them, and no other standard to go by.
Never having seen a god, never having heard or
handled one, never having seen any one who has
seen, or heard, or handled a deity, and himself and
his attributes being his highest conception of any
personality or entity, finite or infinite, organic or
inorganic, his gods must be like himself, only an
exaggeration of him^alf. This is why there are so
many mean gods ; it is because there are so many
mean men. If they make their gods better than
themselves in some respects, tliey are sure to make
them worse in other respects. Mark the record,
choosing any holy book you will ; when the people
are puerile, their god is puerile ; when the people arc
cruel or base, their god is the same. It is the most
difficult thing in the world, after beginning a god,
the intention being to make a very good one, the
best one possible for man to make, to finish it with-
out spoiling it ; that is, to finish it and have every
part perfect in every respect. It must be onmiscient
and omnipotent, and yet must not know or be able to
do certain things which the all-wise and all-kind ought
to know and do. The world of wickedness, and sor-
row, and crime must be accounted for in some way,
for it exists ; God's authorship therein must in the
same breath be affirmed and denied, for although the
author of all things, it will not do to acknowledge

PLATO REVISED.

727

the creator the author of evil. And so on, until of a
truth the creator is by the creature fearfully and
wonderfully made.

Plisedo, In any event the men of Athens had
little to boast of in their gods. They know better
now, if they know anything ; and if still existing, I
venture to say, they have no better place than this.

Crito. I suppose it is safe to call the Olympian
deities savages; that is to say, they were not civilized
gods, although the men who made them were at
the time accounted the most civilized of any upon
the earth. Taken all together, Jupiter, Juno, and the
rest wore a pretty bad Tot. They could not read or
write ; in arts and industries they were woefully
deficient, being too ignorant or too lazy to make for
themselves clothes that would fairly cover their
nakedness, though Arachno was so proud of her talents
in that direction that she challenged Minerva to com-
pete with her. They wore liars, murderers, and
everything that was vile, breaking with impunity all
the laws of heaven and earth ; they were heavenly
vagabonds, having no visible means of support, celes-
tial tramps, whom the great tliundorer had often to
order to move along. They fed well and drank well ;
what else they did, following the bent of their
passions, it is not lawful or respectable even to con-
template.

Pluvdo. And how abominably jealous Juno was
toward other women, fully as bad as earthly women
toward each other — tormenting lo with a gadfly that
made her wild as she rushed round the earth to get
away from it 1 But then Jupiter was such a naughty
fellow, and given to all sorts of tricks. Think of his
causing Echo to talk incessantly to Juno so as to keep
her attention diverted while he sported with the
nymphs ?

Crito. And what thieves they were, those gods !
Not kind Prometheus, who, in a hollow tube stole fire
from heaven because the father of the gods, out of

i^il

ill''
i ' i

lili:

i Hi'

WW!,

iii

796

PLATO REVISED.

revenge, withheld it from mortals. Why, indeed,
should mortals make such a father for their gods?
Not Prometheus, then, but that cunning rascal,
Hermes ; and he who stole nectar and ambrosia from
the table, Tantalus, and gave them to his fellows — a
kind of sneakthief, he.

Phsedo. Atlanta, the swift-footed, might doom to
death him whom she outstripped, while he who caught
her might take his pay in what best pleased him. Did
Atlanta love nmrder more than she hated love ?

Crito. Apollo wished some wickedness with Cas-
sandra, and presented her the gift of prophecy as the
l)rice of her favor ; but when she refused, the god in
spite decreed that no one should believe her. Fre-
quently half a dozen gods would desire one woman,
and fall to fighting over her ; indeed, it seemed to be
the sum of existence with the Olympian deities to
eat, drink, sleep, plot mischief, and quarrel. What
work Athena made of it to change Medusa's hair into
serpents, and in such a way that whoever beheld it
afterward was transformed to stone I

Phiedo. Nor had the people any hesitation in ask-
ing their gods, knowing the way they passed their
time in heaven, to assist them in their evil efforts the
same as in their good desires, worshippers of the same
being, on coming together to fight and kill each other,
both asking for victory, which is impossible even for
omnipotence to grant.

Socrates. I would ask you, Plato, as you have
kept awake somewhat while I have slept, how much
dependence it is wise for men to place upon the several
so-called holy books, which profess to emanate from
the gods, and tell the origin and end of things ? All
of them cannot be true, as they contradict each other,
as well as themselves, from first to last. Each claims
alone to be what it pretends, all the others being lies
and the emanations of evil. As in the case of reli-
gions, there are ten or more of these books held in

PLATO REVISED.

729

the acrgrcf^ate over the heads of the greater part of
men inhabiting the civiHzed world, it follows from
their own showing that more than nine-tenths of all
who have ever lived upon the earth were doomed to
destruction. In ail of these books, with much truth
and sound morality, is mingled the supernatural. One
is as easy of belief as another, none of them from
their own showing being of the slightest credence,
because they require men to believe, on the mere
assertion of tradition, of empty air sounds, and the
statements of ignorant and deluded m(>n, what tliey
know to be impossible, and what bears upon the face
the impress of untruth.

Plato. Heaven help us, Socrates, how you talk !
First let us ask how these books are made. Every
nation far enough advanced has its sacred book, a
crude combination of legal and religious ethics, half
mythology, half morality, all done ages ago, when
men were more ignorant and superstitious than now ;
and all of these half-savage traditions are ever to be
held holy above all truth, spiritual worship cjuv lining
the intellect of man long after reason tells him it is a
lie. All of these books claim to have a divine origin
— to be inspired. What that may be, when this same
divinity professes to be the origin of all things, and
by its will and power to vitalize and inspire all things,
the wicked as well as the righteous, I will not at this
moment discuss; suffice it to say that under this same
inspiration, I exist, act, think ; by the breath of this
same divinity I am now speaking to you, O Socrates.
If by inspiration and divine origin we arc to under-
stand that these books, or any one of them, is written
by the hand of omniscience, by an all-wise and truth-
telUng God, then upon the face of them they are
every one false, for they are full of self-contradictions
and errors regarding the physical world, besides
inculcating within certain limits immorality, injustice,
treachery, and cruelty. In other words, like all early

lil'lti^

730

PLATO REVISED.

unrecorded traditions, they are made up of mingled
fact and fiction.

Evenus. To some comes belief by intuition.

Criio. To some comes non-belief bv intuition.

Socrates. Let me ask you, Evenus, what is inspi-
ration ?

Evenus. In this connection, the breath of tho
almighty, overspreading the mind, and working in
the hearts of men.

Socrates. Is not all the world, and are not all men
so made and so upheld ?

Evenus. I suppose so.

Socrates. Then every human heart and mind, every
blade of grass and flower, every slimy reptile and
noxious insect, every thief and murderer — all are
alike inspired, all being alike made and upheld by
God, in his infinite wisdom and loving kindness, for
the alleged beiiefit of man.

Evemis. The term is not so used.

Then, I ask again, what is inspiration ?

Endowing man with a knowledge of God.

Were it not better all men were so

that they might know their maker and

Socrates.
Evemis.
Socrates.
endowed.

serve him better ?

Evenus. It was not so ordained.

Soci'ate,s. I fail to find any evidence that what you
call inspiration in man is anything more than ordinary
intelligence, or that any one person was ever endowed
with a divine afflatus in a greater degree than any
other person.

Plucdo. Pray, then, interpret to us inspiration, O
Socrates, who art thyself in8[)ired.

Socrates. As the cooling earth sent forth ever-
green trees, and the blooming of vegetation began,
man with nature became inspired ; and when over
the beautiful landscape the grass appeared, and the
flowers became fairer, and birds sang, and all the
world was a poem, the poet appeared, poem and poet
alike inspired.

PLATO REVISED.

711

Pluedo. In the early religions was a proplietic and
an apocalyptic literature, which forever after were
strained to tit various times, personages, and evtiits.
Meaningless sayings and unfultilled predictions were
at tlie same time so twisted as to give to the wonis
some significance other than their true or usual one.
If by any means, in the hands of skilful interpreters,
one in fifty of the old-time wild asseverations came
true, it was enough to convince the unthinking of tlio
validity of them all.

Socrates. Men work away like pnts in a dung-hill
to determine the truths of their religion ; but they
determine nothing, apparently make no headway, and
certainly will never be able to achieve tlie slightest
result until now light breaks in from son)c quarter.
Nevertheless, so e«ger are they to reach conclusions
that they jump at tliem, having no proof or rtasm.
As to origin, we know tlic origin of nothing, neitli( r
of man, the almighty, nor of a single ati-m. Wo
know nothing of what is, of what was, of what will
be. Men talk about the fundamental truths of
religion, the existence and attributes of the creator,
the immortality of the soul, the future state, and so
forth, teaching them to their children, opening schools
and employing books and professors for the purpo.se,
when they know and can know absolutely nothing.
It is more than time wasted, this teaching as truth
what at best is but speculation.

Plato. Man is born under the dominion of some
unknown and unknowable power or powers ; and in
his efforts to fathom and explain the nature of this
force he is led into all sorts of theologies and theo-
ries. In the absence of knowledge he invents, reiter-
ating his fancies, weaving them into fables, until
in due time they become fastened upon the minds of
nations in the form of religions. The mighty powers
of nature, the governing influences which originate
thought and action, ruling despotically the minute
aflfairs of every -day hfe as well as those great princi-

732

PLATO REVISED.

;

])lcs wliicli determine his destiny, lie seeks to propi-
tiate with prayers and offerings. He woultl bribe
onuiipotence to befriend hiin ; and that his darlc and
narrow mind ina}^ better comjassthe difficulties which
biset him, he resolves these various forces into deities,
one or several. Even thoufjh unconscious of the
existence of that subtle power which subordinates to
its laws every movement of a muscle, every pulsation
of the heart, every wave of thoujjjht. lie acts under it ;
or awakeninj^ to the fact he finds the imniediatc cause
ujoverned by some other cause lyiiiii; back of it, and
that by another still more remote; so that in the end
he is forced to confess himself ruled by those very
iiiHuences over which he once fancied Jiimself to hold
absolute control.

Socrdfrs. It is plain that the forces of nature
intimidate man, bringing him to his knees, and throw-
in;^ him into numberless absurd pl)ysical and mental
contortions, but the forces underlviiiLT human associ-
tion are not so easily followed, or so t>;reatly feai'ed.

Pldto. We see in the (»rdinary walks of life actu-
ating princi[)les which govern individuals in their
respective occupations. One pursues wealth, another
honor, another pleasure, and another religion. Wealth,
honor, pleasure, or religion tlien beconu's the grand
master, the governor, or ruler of the individual. For
the accom[)lishment of this jturpose a thousand means
are necessary, each one of which becomes a subonli-
nate ruler. Sometimes all are pursued coordinately,
and then the rulers are [jroportionately increased.
Those wlu) deny that the ordinary interests of life
hold dominion over them are none the K'ss slaves ;
for t(^ possess none of the n(>l)ler asj)i rations of life is
to abandon one's self to vice, the mo>t cruel and arbi-
trary of masters. These governing impulses, there-
fore, sonu! stronger and some weaker, as the case may
be, are multi[)lied indefinitely, and increased in pro-
portion to the activity of the brain, the healthfuhiess
of the body, and the hmgings of the heart ; so tliat

PLATO REVISED.

:^3

each particle of wliich tlie essence of human existence
is coin[K)se(l is a law unto itself, acting upon the mind
of the individual so as to produce Hxed and deter-
mined results. We sec then that it is the will of man
at tlic outset innnediately to place his freedom in tlie
hands of a keeper; nay, it is his imperative necessity
so to do, for if he refuses to be the slave of vice lie
becomes the servant of virtue. If in the exercise of
his free will he fi'jjhts against and overcomes avarice
and ambition, instantaneously charity ;.'id patriotism
become his rulers, and the will may not, and does not
act freely, but only in accordance with the dictates of
the master passion.

Phivdi). Superstition is based on the evils which
surround us.

Crilo. And so the Veda hymns praises to wind,
clouds, and fire.

Phrdo. Pray enlighten me, O Socrates 1 Is it
wisdom for man to use his reason in matters of
religion, or should he rely on tradition, on feeling, on
faith, on the teachings of priests, and the general
opinions of mankind ?

Socrates. By my soul, good Ph;edo, I almost won-
der you can ask so silly a question; and yet I do n()t
wonder when I consi<ler thn foolishness and stupidity
of mankind, and In %> tl>cy toil to mystify each other,
subvert the truth, and ape the gods in making
somethinix out of nothinu:. You ask, is it wisdom
for man to use his reason as a>j:ainst sentiment and
traditif)!! ?

Pliii'do. Yes.

Socrates. Is it better to be a man or a brute ?

PItirdo. Being a man, I say it is better to be a
man ; were I a brute, perha}is I might prefer remain-
ing a brute.

Socrafe.'<. Very well. Being a man, you prefer to
remain a man. Now what are the leadinjj: character-
istics distinguishing men from brutes?

< ■ I

734

PIATO REVISED.

Pli,r(Jo, Intellect, the faculties of speech, sequences
of thouglit, and reason.

SiKratcs. By wliat arc beasts cliiefly governed ?

riiii'do. By instinct and feeling.

Socratet^. Is the quality of instinct nearer akin to
the intellect and the reasoning faculties of men, or to
sentiment, tradition, and physical environment?

riinih. To th(.' latter ; man cannot be guided by
feeling and tradition unless he chooses to lay aside
his reason, and descend to the level of the brute.

><<)(rat(s. True, Beason b(>iiig the highest faculty
of man, is it not insane ever to lay it aside, partic-
ularly in dealing with questions so momentous as
eteiiiMl hap|iiness and misery ?

J1i;i'il(>. It certainly would seem so.

Sncrafcii. If man ever needs his faculty of reason,
wliieh lifts him out of the brute category, and phu es
him lieside the gods, it is when called Uj)on to inter-
])iet and understand the teachings of the gods. By
Jupiter! I liokl it an insult to the gods for men to
employ tluMr leason in all things exce])t in their inter-
course with them, when they deem it necessaiy to
play the part of a brute. For in all matti'rs except
religion he who will not consul this reason and be
guidt'd by common sense is Justly condemned as a
fool, an idiot, and left to suffer the jienaltics of his
stu])idity \vithout sympathy. I^ut religion's highest
meiit. britiLjing the highest reward, is that blind
ae(pii(>seenee in the fictitious and fantastic ideas and
assertions of half-savage or half-witted dreamers of
remotest ages, called at the present day faith, beliif
Not only has man the right to use his reason, but it
is his bounden duty to do so — to appeal to it always,
and abide by its decision. Without reason there (an
be no moral sense, no conscience, no reliijion. All
animals have instincts and wea])ons b}' means of which
they secure food and protect life. Man's reason is
his life's protector, his sftul's salvation, antl if he does
not make use of his reason and abide by its mandates

PLATO REVISED.

rso

1.0

IS a

liis

icst

iiid

luid

•sof

•iii'f.

it it

iiys,

(at)

All

lich

n is

docs

ates

he is justly, and without sympathy doonuHl to per-
dition, any conception of free-will and necessity to
the contrary notwithstanding.

Apollodorns. Perillus invented a new kind of pun-
ishment, a brazen bull, with a door through which
victims to bo roasted were thrust. This was fit>e-
will. l*halaris, tyrant of Agrigentum, was greatly
pleased by the machine, and ordered its merits tested
on the p(!rson of the inventor. This was nec(^ssity.

EirniiK. That knowli'dge of God for which all men
strive is beyond tjio sphere of reason to attain.

Soci'dtcs. No knowledge of any kind was ever
attained outside tlie sphere of reason. It is alone by
the faeultic^s of sense and reason that we can appre-
hend anvtiiing, natural or supernatural; without their
use W(! can recognize ni^ither the voice of (Jod
nor the voi<'(; of nature; W(; can ent(>rtain neither
belii'f nor disbelief in oriy-inal sin f)r inimoitalitv.
The same faculties whose use are forbidden in tilings
spiritual we must employ even in our belief, if we
believe,

I'jir)nif<. But reason may bo restricted, the senses
limited; there may be mor*' in heaven and eartii tlian
man's p(Tceptive faculties can encomi.ass.

Sorrdfrs. How so?

h'l'i litis. For instance; the horse that draws me
to the temple of music has (^yes and ears, and reason
to some extent, but standiii'^ every night at the door
it has little conception of the performance^ within, nor
can it have. It lacks the necessary |>erce])tive facul-
titis. So man inay lack some sense possessed by other
biMUgs whom he cannot see or know, and whose per-
ceptive faculties as nmch sui'pass his own as do tlio
latter those of brutes.

Sncrafra. Possibly; and yet if rensf n and my
senses are mv guides, I can in nowise Ik l.'ld nspon-
sible for what exi.sts beyond the realm of their vision,
any more than the horse can be held resi)onsible for
not appreciating music.

I
I'll I

111

736

PLATO REVISED.

Plato. We may as well discard, once for all, the
sentiment tliat there are thin«4s in heaven and earth
not njeant for us now to know; that we have
been endowed with a discrimination which is to be
used ui) to a lertain point and then diopped, a d<'Coc-
tion of tradition and blind fuith to be emjtloyod as a
substitute. Our intelligence, if not always a <j[uide,
is no j^uido. As the hitherto hidden opens to our
perceptions, reason takes possession; meanwhile we
will not account it wisdom to insist on a belief in the
unknowable.

Crito. Amid so many conflicting ideas, oiiinions,
doctrines, and beliefs, how are we to tell right and
wrong, good and bad, moralit} and immorality?

IS<)irak'(i. Keliijionists refer you each to his holv
book, and tlK't;ce to conscience.

Crito. But none of these satisfy comnK>n sense
and n^ason, while conscience we know is purely a
manufactured article.

P/dfo. How nianufactured ? Knowledge, virtue,
and liap})ines3 are the life of the soul immortal and
most j)recious. and so to be guarded and illuminated
by an intenuil supernatural voice, whicli is tlie guide
of the good.

Crito. Conscience is called a divine guide; if so,
how nuiny ditllrent divinitits nmst the several races
present as sources of the nudtitudinous consci<>nces
existing throughout the world. One <j;od certainlv
never could liave made them all.

!*lunl(). Corkscieju-e is no inhorfnt or fundamental
guide, but a basis of moral pos;-ibiiities.

Crito. The most abominable acts liave been com-
mitted by men of weightiest conscience.

Socrates. Good Eveim^s I l»egyou, tell us what is
conscience?

ICrt'HK^. Conscience is tlie voice of God in man.

Crito. Then why have not all men like consciences,
a<5 God surely would not speak one conscience to one
a.id another to another.

PLATO REVISED.

737

h.
[cos,

one

PJurdo. I do not uiulorstaiKl ; I thought that all
the world agreed on the fundu mental principles of
riy:ht and morality, the variations heing local and
unimportant, while conscience niust be part of man's
nature, since it is found evervwhere.

<S\;rm/r.s'. True, vet not trut\ The <j;orm of con-
science is implanted, but in the development its clsar-
acter and quality d(>pend upon time and place, tiie
fruit being according to the atmos[)liere in which it
unfolds. Thu''isin tau-dit that murder was no crime;
therefore it offended n<>t conscience to kill. Tlu; con-
science of tlie Persian W(>maiv is troui)led if her face
is exposed, while the Kuropcan is sliamed if her breast
is seen up()n the street. I'liysical perfection was the
moral ideal of the early (Jreeks, and not female
chastity, so highly piized elsewhere. Tlie soldier
who juoudly murders 1.en men in batth; blushes to
kill oiif in a private ))rawl. As a nation, or corpo-
ration, men will steal with intpunity who would isot
rob in dividuully. The mumblings of priest or magi.s-
trate in tlie form of a marriage ceremony make
saen '! snhsefpient acts whieh were oth< rwi.sr; abom-
inable. J-iIo(.)d revenge, slavery, polygamy are good
to-dav and bad to-morrow, e'ven und(>v tlieolo'j;ic teach-
itiii's. Ami ?o with brute conscience. Teach a do<'
to cliasi^ tlii> sheep, and he is proud of it; whip him
for so doing and he hangs his tail when caught at it,
Between the ctMiscience <)f the man and the dog, aj)art
from their relative inttilligenee and eduv-ation, there is
little to choose. Each is as it was made. ( Jreat minds
tiirow of}' all teachings and restrictions; great mvn
ha\e little conscience.

Crifi). But surely we may know good from i\il?

Sorntfni. Yes. But how shall wc know it i Xot
by any book, revelation, or promul 'Ration. ( )nly shal-
low biains conlbinid right with r<'ligion, and say that
faith is essential to conscience^ and conscience to
moi-aiity. lu'ligion is a respi-ct jtaid to unknowable
furcea; morality is the jirevailing aentuuent, while

KSSAYS iND MlaCKI.LANV 47

738

PLATO UEVLSED.

g IS

conscience is lovaltv to tliat sentiment. Wron
what hurts ww; rii^ht is wliat liurts mo not.

('rito. Tliis, then, is th<* morality of nature.

Snn'dfrs. Precisely. I know of no other teadier
tlian nature. I know of r.o tliin*4, idea, force, intelli-
j»;rnc(\ or ontitv outsi(h> of nature. All t:fotls arc
nature, and all men and heasts ; mortal or innuortal,
essi'iu'cs, s|)iriis, intelli;jfences. i)r seas or solid stones,
all ai'e nature ; these, and all heat and cold, forces
chemical and electrical, and huni^cr and sorrow and
ho))c, tliese arc my teachers ; alst) love and hate, and
birds, and fishes, and all that is an<l is not.

('rlfo. So have we not hcen taught, even hv vour-
selt, mv master.

Sncraf(s. W(> jiave heen tau;j;ht (n'roneousl}-, and
must unteach ourselves. Lies, licentiousness, hypoc-
risy, cheatinjjjs, and overreachings we liave heen
taught in the name of reli;jjion, morality, conscience,
civili/ation, under whose respective l)annersthe worhl
has oeen a 'L::reat human slaughter-house, a field of
moral pestilence since the l)e;j;iimin«jj. And the author
of this state of things we are sohcrly asked to call
j»"rf ct, just wise, merciful, and good.

I*l>;\'<in. Knowledge of good and evil hy no means
brinn's right action. We do wrong knowingly and
surter for it, only again to do \\ long and again sullei'.
We love only that which is l>ad : \ irtue is too lame
for the times.

l<<Hr<tt(>^. If I tell my child that Santa Clans will
not hi'ing him a present if he is a had hoy, and on
Christmas day lie gets the j)resent, he m:iy tlnn think
nip a [XO{m\ father; l)ut latcjr, when his mind hc'-insto
act for itself, he cannot luive a very liigh opinion of
my ju(lgin(^nt «»r vera«-ity. If I tell my child that
(rod will punish h-i if he conunits that wicked act,
ami lie commits uw act. not once or twice, hut
twenty times, and finds that (iod (.Iocs not punish
liini, he nuist, if he reasoun om the matter, consider
me, his father, either stupid or deceitful. It will not

pIllH

nioni
not I
the ..
that

No.

sligl,
lion

l»eii|.

napii

PLATO KKA'ISKD.

789

•all

u'aiis

utU-r.
lame

s will
il on
tliink
ins to
ion of
that
il act,
hut
luni.-h
hsidor

11 lU)t

do; Ik; will not always Ix; satisfied with the answer:
"All, wait 1 tliociid is not yet; ( Jod is loii'4-snfririii'j; ;
lie does not punisli ij> a sj»iiit ot" rexcni^e; lie does
not always in(^to out justice in this worhh," hrit I'atlier,
when lie rea(;li(;s niardiood, lu; will tufn to nie aii<l
ask, " I low do y(»u know i How came you to know
so much ahout (jJod, his chaiaef.er, and aftiihutes. his
acts and intentions'? Did vou ever see him :* ilavi;
vol! any satisfactory knovded^e of him, sucli knowl-
e<!'^e or c\idenc(^ as wouhl i»e received in any court of
jii,-tic(! in nv-ard to anv of the ailiiirs of life ? iJesidi's,
he does exercise revenue. ' \'en<M'anee is mini', saith
tin; liord.' Wliy is it his- — whv will he ke<[t tlie
whole of it, and liive nian none? 'I am a jealous
(j}o(l.' ()f what is hojealt>us, if he is supreme ? *' He
mi'^ht add that all theories and examples of thco-
lo'^ieal punishmenfs aic i( taliative and revenj^efnl —
()l)(>\' me and 1 will \Ai'^:^ yoii ; disohev me and I w ill
curse you; serve me und you shall ha\e heasen;
stuve me not and hell sli.dl havi; yen. Aj^iiin,
if he does not mete out justice here, he is,
in this respect, worsi; than tin; men who madi' him.
An omnipotent and heneficent hein;^' could not,
first of all, make so imperfect a nieehainsm as this
World and its inhahitants ; and, secondly, could not
[lermit an act of injusliee in any iA' his cicatni'es : or
if he did, for the henelitof their free will and di^ci-
jtline, as his ministers would say, he could not I'est fora
moment until ihe wroii-^' was made liLilit. lie could
not permit an innocent person lo atone for the sins of
th(» ;4nilty. Suppose one of our judges should do
that.'' Does (jiod reward me foi' ptayin;j; to him?
No. For ton thousand pi'ayers I ne\-er receive th(>
slightest aclvnowle<li4ine!it ; from tt 11 thousand Uiil-
lion prayers we know of n(»t one an^wt r of any kind
hein^' erantiMJ. W'e have no knowledge of almighty
power evcM' havinii; in a single instance; deviateil from
the usual course, such as wo call the fixecl laws of
nai'iie, because observation has taught us that tluiy

740

TLATO RKVISED.

do not rlianufo. Omnipotonoo ran rlo murli, hut it
cannot tlo all tliat the votaries of roligion (leinand
of it ; it cannot answer two opposing prayers at tlio
panu! time and place, as whore twenty persons pray,
some for rain, and others for no rain ; one for victory
for tlu! armies of the slave-holders, and one Un' victory
for tlu! armies of the aholitionists - onjiiipotence can-
not achieve a contradiction ; and this is what religion-
ists ar(! constantly making (rod do, calling him kind,
an<l vet showing him to 1)0 mer"il« ss, more so than
any man he ever made ; calling him just, and yet
showinti him to he unjust: and finallv assertinu; that
if h(! could have it so the devil would he extinguislml
altogether, which acknowledges that he is not
omnipotent, else he would extinguish liim. These
are oidv a few examples out of hundreds that miulit
ho hrought forward. No; I would tell my hoy, do
right hecause right-doing hrings its own reward.
Tills is why it is rijiht, hecause^ it hriuL's its own rewnrd.
Wrong-doing l)rings its own punislmKnt ; this is
why we may know it is wrong, hecause it luings
pain and not pleasure. Any ac-t hringing unfjuali-
Hed pleasure ,o all and jtain upon none, «annot he
wroiiir, no ! atter what any person or hodk may
say. Do right for tin; love of it and hecause it makes
you better, haj)pier, nobler. Avoid wrong-doing, not
from fear of a thunderbolt hurled by an otl'ended
deity from behind the clouds, for no such visitation
will come upon you; but avoid doing wrong because
it is degrading and will bring upon you pain. I'ut not
your hand in the fire, for it will be burned ; diink not
that fiery intoxicant, for it dries up your life's blood ;
smoke not, to the destruction of your nerves : gamble
not, to the dissipation of your fortune ; steal not,
thereby giving others the right to steal from you;
kill not, if you do not want to be killed ; and so on.
A morality thus based upon the simple truths of
nature will last a man through life, and give him the
most steadfast assurance in time of death; it will

ri.ATO UEVISED.

741

never be dcroptivc; it will ntsvcr prove untrue, and
the ijerson basing liis conduct ui»on it will wtand
always the saujc. lie will not liavc to eradicate
any t'ldso teachings and construct a new l>asis of moral-
ity for himself, or go without any ; his [irincijdis will
be founded upon a rock. And h«; who thus stands
has nothing in the widi* universe to fear, while ho
who is governed all his life by superstition, by the
fancied arbitrary mandates (»f a fancied deity, must
neiMJs crawl in craven cowardice all throuiih this
woild and mto the next.

Crifo. But if morality is neither religion nor civil-
ization, it certainlv nmst be in accoril with Ixith.

Socraki

Not

necessarilv

lel'u are

plenty

immoral ri'ligioiis and innnoral civilizations, though
such religions and civili/>ati(ins would in>t call tJn ir
Hiorality immoral. Morality, like r(Ti;.;i(>n, is largely
a conventional aitiele, being but the idi'al of theetim-
munity, whatever that may lutpinn to be. I'lio
(ireek mother woidd never call her ))atriotic son
immoral, thoU'^h he drank wine by the "'allon an*l
ke|)t half a <lozen mistresses. The popular preacher
is not immoral if he tells no lies exce[tt in the pulpit.
The monopolist may stral liis millions, deal whole.suK;
in bribery and c(U'ru[)tion, and not be <';dle(l immoiMl,
provided he does it within limits (jf the law, or is not
caught at it.

J liffo. The nio'.'.i! sentiment, right or wrong, is the
ci-ntral force of every society. Intrinsic right is I

t ss

j)owerful under such conditions than conventional
right or public moral sense. This senst', afti-r all,
though it ma}' be the ]»risonwall of reason, is the
onlv hone of progress. It gi\es a-^nre'-ati-il humanitv

■rsonalitv, and before the soul of man it la\s an

em|iii'e. Moral philosophy treats only of jxifeet rec-
titude and right conduct, ignoring evil, as physiology
treats of the functions of organs and knows n(»tliing
of disease.

Socrates. Ethics is the science of human duty. By

742

PLATO URVISKD.

tlio tonn liuinaii duty moral ol)lil,^'1tioI) is Iinpllod. No
one arrives at the aj^e of maturity, naciu^s tlie juriod
of youtli, or is even buiii into (lie \v<»rld without huv-
iiil^ aceumidated a load of iiKh'lttcdiicss, to tlischiirij;*!
wliieh a lifr-tiiiie is toi* sliort. Th(! infant ow(.h
for its existence, for the; jireparation and paniL^s of
its biitli. The youth owes for nourishment and
earc durinii eliildhood. Tht; vounij citizen owes for
proti'ction and culture, and the old man for such
existing; conditions as enahled him to attain comfort-
ahie and honorahle old ajjje. In the annals of the race
jUfood has ever manifcsti'd a strcnt^th superior to that
of evil ; henco our sympathy and alleL^iance nmst bo
on the side of «iood. At all events wc; iiuist sido with
the j^ootl as lung as good preponderates. Ifhcfiire
the end evil rises superior to good, thi'U all moral
men nuist worshij) evil, which thereby becomes the
itic.il good, and can no longer be called innnoi'ality.

, l/>o//of/f>/*//.s. T!m> supi)ression of malignant feeling
is itself a reward, says Prahlada,

/V/,7v/o. Pray tell me, P^vcnus, is the soul immortal ?

Kiriiii>^. ()f c(jurs(> it is immortal.

Pliinlo. How do you know ;"

Krniiiii. ^\v\\ of all ages and nations have held to
belief in the innnortalitv of the soul ; iiothinLl in
nature dies, therefore the soul cannot die ; my iimer
consciousness tells me that I am not like the brute
which perishes.

riurdi). The seci'ct mystcric^s of ])ionysius held
that the soul is imjxrishalile; were the rest of the
mysteiies true ? Have not the early nations held to
thousands of untrue beliefs?

KroiU!^. (Vrtainly.

Pli.'i'do. Then why attempt to prove anything true
by such evi<lence ;'

ErniK.'i. It is a standanl argument.

Pliiido. Nothing in nature dies, you say; but
there are infinite changes, as great as wt)uld be the

PLATO UKVISKD.

74S

ill

iicr

iitc

ruo

lUt

Lho

instniit transfornmtion of liff, soul, iiitollt'ct. into cfiin
iiiid vjijtoi', or foiisi'^niiiiLj tli»iii to tlic oiij^iaul nstr-
voir. or source* of all iiitrlli-'ciicc

A'/

f II IIS.

TIk'Ii tlio soul is not iuiiiiortal.

J'liiiilo. I (litl not say so.

Juriiii;',. flatter is in«lt'stru('tii)lo ; is \u\iu\ less
woi'tliy of |tri'S('rvation tlian matter f Wliat iK-conics
of man's Icainimjf, of his skill, wlu-n tlu' l>o«ly «lii's ?
Nt'itlicr force n(»r matter are cioiited or lost. Xotli-
in;jj tliat comes within the sco|ti! of our knowltdyc is
either cnated or lost. Is the cultui'od intellect a
creation, or an accumulation of e.\[)eriences, and are
thev all annihilated hv deaths

lliinli). It Would seem, if tliere is any inunor-
talitv left, if there is somewhere, thnni'^hout the
realms of space, for us a glorified heaven, to the enjoy-
ment of which a keeiur ed^'e isf^iven hy the existence
of a dreadful hell for our hapless m'i^hhor, some
an_u;els would be siiit to t'.ll us of it. (iod, if ho
chose, could at once end all sin and misery; lie could
obliterate unluTief, take fiom the world its injustice
and fi'om death its stinij;, showiuL^ man what he is and
wliat his future will he. If there l)e a (iod, and a
future state, wiiy does he not do tliis :* Surely the
World needs (Jlod's jiresence as greatly as it ever did ;
and if men had here the same evidence u[ion which
to base opinion that is reipiiied of tlieni in the; ordi-
nary walks of lift', millions of beings mi<;ht be saved
who now are lost. Men have wiitten much, and
achieved much fame in writinn- on the imniortalitv of
the j^ods. Of course the if(K\t^ were all immortal
then, but wlure are the}- now { The Japanese still
have their banil>oo, symbol of imniortalitv, which
they ])lant beside the tombs of the illustrious dead,
but what have theCjIreoks?

Crito. What is tlie soul ?

Pliirdn. The spiritual part of man.

Criio. In what sense s[)iritual ? Is intellect s})ir-
itual ?

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Corporation

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744

PLATO REVISED.

Phsedo. It is certainl}'^ not material

Crito. Have brutes souls? How do soul charac-
teristics differ in men and brutes?

Phiedo. Onl}'^ in degree, so far as we can perceive.
We cannot say that brutes have not souls, nor any
after-life ; we do not know.

Crito. If the soul has existence apart from the
body, it may have had being before the makhig of the
body ; but we trouble ourselves less about what we
were than what we will be.

Phwdo. If the soul be not immortal, how many
good men are doomed to disappointment!

Crito. Not so ; for if the soul wake not in eternity,
how shall it ever know it?

Plisedo. Even though it be not true, they say, it is
better to believe it if it brings comfort.

Crito. But it does not always bring comfort. Can
it be comfort to the mother at the grave of an erring
son to feel that he must be forever in torment while
she enjoys heaven ? The doctrine of a future state of
rewards and punishments necessitates the eternal
separation of husband and wife, parents and children.

SocraiiS. In your Republic, Plato, you defend the
doctrine of immortality of the soul; do you still hold
to tliat opinion?

Plato. Thus far I find myself immortal.

Socrates. How about the gods and their immor-
tality ?

Plato. I have met no gods as yet.

Socrates. You have often been quoted as a pagan
of profound wisdom who believed in the immortality
of the soul.

Plato.
hold.

Socrates. You have taught also that there is
mind in the stars, in which teaching you were
perhaps nearer the truth than you supposed.

Plato. There are in all things mind and soul,
and these ever were and always will be.

No one can be religious who does not so

PLATO REVISED.

746

Socrates. You believed also in sorcery, witchcraft,
transciigration of the soul, and a thousand absurd-
ities about God and creation.

Plato. There is a future ; we know not what it is ;
whatever it is it were well to be prepared for it.

Evenus. If there is no innnortality there is no
God, no justice, no truth, no good. That the soul is
immortal we know by an instinct deeply rooted in
all humanity.

Cr'do. Do men like brutes depend upon instinct for
guidance ?

Eveims. Well, intuition, if you like the word bet-
ter.

Cr'do. Millions of intuitions have come to naught.

Evenus. If God lives the soul lives alway.

Crito. I agree with you.

EvcvHS. In the religion of the ancient Egyptians
arc grand conceptions concerning the immortality of
the soul.

Crito. Do you believe in the immortality of the
Egyptian soul ?

Evenus. I do.

Crito. Do you believe in the Egyptian heaven ?

Evenus. I cannot.

Crito. Then, if the Egyptian soul is immortal,
what will it do without the Egyptian heaven ?

Socrates. A life bcj'ond the grave may be relied
upon only in so far as it is demonstrable by the senses;
yet there may be immortality for man for all that.

Crito. Now toll me, Apollodorus, can j'ou dis-
course on miracles ?

Apollodorus. Yes ; and I will begin my discourse
by saying that there are no miracles.

( Wito. What is a miracle ?

Apollodorus. A performance outside the pale of
nature.

Crito. How can you prove that there never have
been miracles ?

746

PLATO REVISED.

ApoUodorns. I am not so called upon | it is for
those who believe in them to prove their existence, as
is the case in regard to the whole range of super-
natural phenomena.

Crito. And as to prayer?

ApoUodorns. Prayer is the begging of omnipotence
to do the impossible — a liarn)Icss diversion, so long as
those who pray expect no results, or are satisfied with
the reflex etfect.

Crito. Do not those who pray usually expect an
answer ?

Apollodoras. They think they do, and often feel
that they have it ; but were a prompt and palpable
response to come to one of their petitions, no one
would be more surprised than the petitioner.

Crito. Why do the gods wish to be importuned by
their votaries ?

ApoUodonis. They do not. Why should men make
their gods in some respects so much worse tlian
themselves ? A kind and benevolent human father
does not enjoy seeing his children all their lives grov-
elling; in the dust before him : beseechinix him to
remember their wants and relieve their miseries ;
importuning him for favors whicli it costs him noth-
ing to grant, and which he withholds seemingly to
tantali2e them, and cause them to beg the more and
louder. The attitude is not a noble one for either
man or god to pose in. How, then, shall we say of
those who make their god in theory a high and holy
one — creator, preserver, dominator, an onmipotent
and unchangeable being, absolutely just, full of com-
passion and tender mere}' — and yet in their interpre-
tation of him, by their words and acts, they make him
out now a contemptible thing, and now a demon 1

Crito. May not good gods permit prayer ?

ApoUodorns. Yes ; it pacifies some persons and
teaches obedience. But look back and see what use
men and gods make of prayer, and then say if it be
decent, Formerly men prayed an enemy to death,

PLATO REVISED

747

and

use

[ath,

prayed devils out of the dying, prayed the departed
soul into heaven, prayed fish to ascend the stream,
the corn to grow, the sun to shine ; robbers and nmr-
derers prayed for fat victims, while the fat victims
j)rayed to be delivered from robbers and nnirdorers.
And the same incongruities and absurdities continue,
thouju-h in a modified form. Nations pray for victory
over their enemies; though brother fight against
brother, both beseech the same God for strength to
kill the other. There are places where rain is prayed
for ; also deliverence from earthquake famine and
pestilence, success at the polls, blessings on infamous
persons and principles. God is constantly reminded
that there are the poor, the sick, the blind, the
infinn, whom he is sadly neglecting ; there are the
dying who want a reserved seat in heaven, S(jmething
better than is given to their neighbors In a word, if
the character of God is as represented by his votaries,
tlieir petitions are a disgrace to their intelligence and
an insult to him.

Crito. But surely the creator can break his own
laws if he chooses ?

Apnllodoriis. We have no evidence that ever a sin-
gle law of nature was suspended or diverted from its
ordinary course.

Crlto. Do not all the national and sacred books of
all nations and ages testify to the existence of mira-
cles ?

ApoUodoriis. Yes, and if you call that proof, you
prove too much ; for every one of them condemns all
the others as false. Now, where there arc a thou-
sand and one religions, every one railing against the
])retcnded miracles of tlie other as prei)osterous,
surely the chance for one of them to be true Is
small. Besides, how reconcile the doctrine of
special providences and answer to prayer with the
innnutability and unchangeableness of the creator?

Onto. Well, how about the millions of petitioners

748

PLATO REVISED.

who know from internal evidence that their prayers
are answered ?

Apollodorm. 1 would rather see one external
evidence, than liear of a million of the other descrip-
tion. The heart-broken mother, beij<2:in<>: the life of
her fever-stricken child, is greatly comforted though
the child dies. The false religionist enjoys as nmch
internal evidence as the true religionist. In a wud
tlic internal evidence is the same, whether the prayer
is answered or not, and so, as evidence, goes for noth-
ing. The doctrine of special providences and prayer
imply imperfection in the creation and regulation of
the universe. If all were rightly made and rightly
ruled, any deviation from existing or predetermined
courses would be wrong. Therefore, to pray a just
and holv God to do what otherwise he would not do,
is to ask him to do wrong, which, if he does not,
prayer is oi no avail.

Cr'do. Then prayer springs from fear and desire,
and its reflex influence is the chief one.

Apolhdorus. Say rather the only one. Imagine a
being sitting in heavenly state, regarding the world
of worms which he has made. One worm asks for
grace, mercy, and peace; another for food and
raiment; a third asks pardon for its measure of sins
only that it may be as quickly filled again. Imagine
this being healing those whom he had made sick,
binding up the hearts he had broken, and in a thou-
sand other ways righting the wrongs that he had
done. Sorry contemplation, indeed, for a maker of
mortals who could have done better but would not t

Cr'do. How then would you account for the pres-
ence of miracles in all the ancient writings?

Apollodonis. Most religions were made long ago,
when the world was young, ignorant, imaginative,
ready to believe anything, and therefore exceedingly
superstitious. In oriental countries particularly, signs
and wonders were everywhere. Any person who
from any cause became conspicuous was sooner or

PLATO REVISED.

749

later endowed with supernatural powers, and though
he might never have pretended to perform a miracle,
he was sure to be accredited with many.

Plato. What shall we say, Socrates; is life worth
the living ?

Socrates. Under some circumstances, and by cer-
tain persons, it may be, but in the main it is not.
The world's religion, philosophy, and poetry are as a
rule pessimistic.

Plato. You speak truly. Human existence is too
often a vast despair, whether viewed as an evolution,
or from a theological point of view. Under the first
supposition we are one with the elements, coming from
them and returning to them after a life of butfiting.
Under the second, the race is no sooner made than it
falls from a state of angelic purity, becomes totally
depraved, and is driven forth by a hated master to
endless torment, a few favorites excepted.

Socrates. Infinitely higher than that of the religion-
ist is the realistic conception of man's nature and
destiny. The gods of man's creation fade before ever
increasing intelligence and morality. The conscious-
ness of divine self gains strength, until to the infinite
development to which we were created we look for
the only living and true God.

A'poUndorus. Perhaps we take life too seriously,
which after all may be a huge joke, man the sportive
play of tlie elements, and mind a force of matter tinc-
tured with intelligence.

Plato. When nature can supply a better man it is
time for each one to die, and give place to him ; when
man becomes perfect he may rightly and reasonably
live on forever.

Crito. By the mute attraction and repulsion in
inorganic forces worlds out of chaos grow ; as by
articulate love and hate beasts have become men, and
men gods.

Socrates. Emerging from tlie darkness of brute
instinct to the illumination of thought ; rising out of

750

PLATO REVISED.

inferior 1*1 fc-forms, and advancing from consciousness
to self -consciousness under the inspiration of ever-
brightening sky and sea, of landscape, birds, and
flowers, all through life's ages man has been left to
work out his destiny in darkness and in liglit under
the unfolding duality of mind and matter, beauty that
catches the eye being ever before utihtv, ornament
before dress, poetry before ]^-roso, and brilhant tlieol-
ogics bofn-e liard and practical S'ience.

Apollodorm. Happy the Aral)S, who refuse to
know anything of what happened before Mohammed
came 1 What an infinitude of trouble nien miglit save
themselves by refusing to know anything of what
shall happen after death !

Socrates. While at Athens, Plato, you had much
tliouirlit of lesjfislation and the alfairs of state. In
your llepublic your main distinction as to forms was
whether the government vested in the liands of one
or many — that is to say monarchy or oligarchy on the
one hand and democracy or republicanism on the other.

Plato. That is true.

So'',ratcs. Of all the governments mankind has had,
which do you regard as the best form ?

Plato. There is no one form greatly better tlian
another ; there is not, and never has been, any gov-
ernment at all approaching perfection.

Socrates. How ? Are not the more liberal ways
which mark the emergence of intellect from the clouds
of sava<>ism better than the wearing of the former
fetters ? Is not monarchy better than despotism, and
democracy better than monarchy ?

Plato. It has not been so proved.

Socrates. Is liberty nothing ? The limitations cf
authority, the restriction of the so-called divine right,
constitutional safeguards in place of the absolute and
individual will — are these nothing?

Plato They are much, all fitting in their way;
and so I suppose are demagogy and mobocracy, else
they had never been.

PLATO REVISED.

751

Socrates. Tell me, I pray you, Plato, what you moan.

Plato. This ; you may as well ask whicli of all the
styles of garments naked humanity has ever emplyyecl
am tlie best. The fashion of government, like the
cut of coats, depends upon the idiosyncrasy of the
wearers. That government or garment is best which
best meets present needs. The government is made
to fit the condition, and not tlie condition to fit the
government. I have said before, tliat governments
vary as the characters of men vary ; states are maile
not of oak and rock, but of the human natures wliicli
are in them, Tlie states are as the men ; they do but
grow out of human characters.

Socrates. Before we can have any good government
we must have those for rulers who can master the
passions that master men. But even the gods them-
selves have not been able to do this, not a single deity
in all the thcoLjonies and theoloufies of the world beiniif
able to control himself in this regard as he attempts to
control the men who made him.

Plato. Socrates, you s[)eak the truth.

Socrates. You treat of justice in your Laws as the
interest of the stronger.

Plato. Yes. The governing power makes tlie
laws ; God makes the governing power ; justice must
uphold God and the laws, right or wrong.

Socrates. Are not God and the laws just ; do they
not render to every man his due?

Plato. Answer that question for yourself, O
Socrates.

Socrates. In your opinion, Plato, it is folly to
imai2;ine that war will ever cease, that it is a natural
condition between states.

Plato. I see no indication of a change fro::i what
always has been the case in this regard.

Socrates. And the affairs of a state should be so
ordered as to conquer all other states in war ?

Plato. All men are the enemies of all other men,
both in public and private.

702

PLATO REVISED.

Socratcff. And the life of man should be ordered
with a view to continue internal and external strife ?
Plato. It is the only way.
Socrates. Is war a good or an evil ?
Plato. A necessarv evil.

Socrates. There is no such thing as necessary evil ;
if the evil is necessary its practise is a good. War is
either a good or an evil.

Plato. One might say on the side of right and lib-
erty, if the winning side, it is a lamentable good ; on
the other side it is assuredly an evil.

Socrates. Is victory oftener on the side of right or
wrong ?

Plato. Of wrong.
Socrates. Why ?

Plato. Because numbers carrying preponderance
of strength breed arrogance, and render the majority
indifferent to the rights of the minority.

Socrates. Well, Plato, take it as a whole, is it a
good or an evil that men sliould have no more sane
or humane ultimate appeal in the adjustment of differ-
ences than the bloody arbitrament of battle, after the
manner of brute beasts ?
Plato. An evil, decidedly.

Socrates. And yet you would have the affairs of the
state always so ordered as best to perpetuate this evil ?
Plato. It must be so.

Socrates. Were it not better to have the laws and
customs such that reason rather than brute force
should regulate?

Plato. If possible, yes. But no wise legislator
orders peace for the sake of war, and not war for the
sake of peace.

Socrates. Yet, as war is brutal, not reasonable, and
the winner more apt to be wrong than right, were it
not betterto adopt measures to abolish war than try
to maintain the ground that the world cannot do
without it ?

Plato. Certainly.

I'LATO REVISEb.

753

l^ocrates. One word more, Plato

Plato. Wliat is it, Socrates ?

^Soaraies. Consider the nebular theory .)f tlie solar
system correct, eternal change the changeless law
thereof, evolution implying dissolution, or, as Kant
hatli It, chaos ever passing into cosmos, and cosmos
leturnnig to chaos again; where, then, are men and
gods, and all those bright intelligences, creation, of
tlie conscious atoms?

Plato. The philosophy of being is more worthy of
our consideration than methods of becomini

Essays and Miscellany a

'S-

Acs
o
Acii
(i
Ac(i
Afr
Agr
Alai
AImi

Alai

Alca

Al.li

Alu<!

Alex

Allis

Alpt

Alva

Ainb

'Am:

fro

Aniei

18t

Anco

Ande

Andr<

Ange]

•Ann

'Anoi

the,

Anton

Apian

Areva

Arrani

Arron(

Athen

Austri

Autho

char

INDEX.

Abbott, works of, 93.

Acadeinia Naciunal, Mex., founding

of, 5:i8.
Academy of Natural Sciencea, Cal.,

dedcript. of, (il9.
Acoata, worka of, 24, 661.
Africans, aaaimilation, etc., of, 256.
Agneae, tnn'^ i>', 667.
Aluman, Ij., wurka of, 55t>-l.
Al'ircon, £. 8. dc, works of, 624,

.•';i5-6.

Alarcon y Mendoza, works of, 628-0;

biog., 529-30.
Alcaraz, worka of, 572.
AKlana, K., mention of, 683.
Alegre, M'orka of, 508.
Alexander the Great, career of, 82.
Alliaon, worka of, 93.
Alpuche, works of, 572.
Alva, F. de, worka of, 600.
Alvarado, Gov., writings of, 603.
Alvarado, P., 'Relacion,' 4UI.
Alvarez, I., writings of, 552.
Ambition, remarks on, 175-6.
'American Law Keview,' quotation

from, 301-2.
Americana, characteristics, etc., of,

189-204.
Ancona, worka of, 652-3, 5G0.
Anileraon, Dr W. C, ineution of, 624.
Andre, ' Overcome,' 634.
Angelo, M., story of, 142.
'Annals of San Francisco,' 615, 640.
'Anonymous Conqueror,' writings of

the, 15-16.
Antonio, N., works of, 512.
Apianus, works of, 662.
Arevalo, S. de, mention of, 470, 480.
Arrangoiz, worka of, 5.52, 590.
Arronez, M., worka of, 666, 590.
Athena, dicasts of, 283.
Austria, I., play a of, 583.
Authors, as critics, 126-8, 141-3;

characleristics, etc., of, 129-30,

176-7; perplexitiea, 136; apprecia-
tion of, 141.

Autocracy, decline of, 81.

Avarice, prevalence oi, 183.

Avery, VV. S., writings, etc., of, 698,
600, 608.

Aztecs, records, etc , f, 4S9-i}J.

Baker, Senator E. D., eloquence of,
026.

Ball)iiena, Bishop, works of, 520-1,
5S5.

Bandini, writings of, 603.

Baqueiro, 'Eusayo,' 5U0.

Karbacero, translation by, 572.

Barcena, M., works of, 5i;8.

Barcena, R. , work.s of, 57 1-2.

Barcia, works of, 512.

Barry and Patten, 'Men and Memoirs,'
613.

Barstow, G., mention of, 6-"6.

Bartlett, W. C, writings, etc., of,
598-600.

Bates, Mrs, 'Four Years on the Pa-
cific Coa-it,' 610.

Baturoni, Z , plays of, 583.

Baz, ' Vida de Juare,' 556.

Beaumont, 'Crouica de Michoacan,'
506.

Beckwith, Rev., mention of, 625.

Benton, J. A., 'The Cal.lornia Pil-
grim,' 605.

Benzoni, G., works of, 24, 463-4, 661.

Beristain, worka of, 5.'{4.

Bibliography, Cent. Amer., 478-80;
Mex., 511-13, 5:«)-6, 589-90; Cal.,
658-70.

Bidwell, Ten., writings of, 603.

Biography, Cent. Auier., 471; Mex.,
509-10.

Blackstone, quotation fi tm, 285.

Blake, W. P., survey, etc., of, 1863,
619.

(756)

750

INDEX.

Bocanogra, works of, 5().'>, 579.

liuriiemaa, M., writiiig.s of, ti34.

Biiafau.i, Friar, 'Cliiiiigchinich,' 596.

Koswell, J., works, etc., of, 130.

Hntello, writings of, G()3.

Hi)iirbourg, 15. de, works of, 458, 400.

liowmaii, J. 1''., writiiifrs of, G45.

liraniiaii, S., tlie 'California Star,'
5!)()-7.

Iliook !, A., mention of, 144.

Kiooks, H. S., 'California Mountain-
eer,' GOO.

Brooks, N., writings of, 598, (533.

Hrownu, J. K., wntin;;s ol, 019, 641.

Btichard, Father, mention of, 025.

Buckle, H. T., works of, 89.

Biiddliisni, 398-9.

BiifFum, E. (}., writings, etc., of, 605.

Bulwer, quotation from, 144.

Burlingauie treaty, mention of, 262.

Burnett, (tov., writings of, 01'2, 02'2.

Burton, Mrs, ' Don Quixote, ' 038.

Biisch, >!., 'Harry riowortiokl,' 63.3.

Bu-itamaute, C. M., works of, 540,
549-50, 590, OCT.

Calderon, F., works of, 566.

t'alileroii y Beltran, h\, dramas of,
580-1; biog., 580.

California, progress of, 51-2; future
of, 53; gold digging in, 1848, 54-5;
migration to, 184-5; race elements
in, 185-200; religion in, 190; future
races of, 201 -t; climate, '202; char-
acter of population, 1849, 205-34;
newcomers to, 206-12; temptations
in, 209; religion, '209-10, 219-20;
class distin>,Jons, 210-11; absence
of restraint, 211-12; gold hunting
in, 214-17; labor, 222-4; trafHc,
etc., 224-5; association, 2'26-7;
women of, 232-3; di.slike to for-
eigners in, '237-8, '244-5, '271; the
Chinese question, 239-78; Kuropo-
aiisin, 241-4; Irislimen, 243-6; labor
needed in, 277 9; trial by jury,
'295-302; Chinese in, 309-418; lit-
erature, etc., 591-668; oratory,
025-7.

Oaniargo, writings of, 19.

C.imden, Lord, motto of, 283,

Campbell, T., indifference of to fame,
180.

Cimprodon, 'Flor de un Dia,' 5S'2.

Caflas, J. do, cules, etc., of, 475-6.

Curloton, C, see Wright, \V.

Carlyle, T., quotations from, 13;i, 173.

Carpio, M., works of, 57.V5; biog., 57.5.

Carr, E. S., ' Patrons of Husbandry,'
620.

Carrillo, works of, 590.

Carrington, .S. C, the 'Record-Union,'
599.

Carson, 'Early RocoUrctions,' 005.

Castellauos, E. 1'. de, poems of, 473-
4, 576.

Castillo, F. del, works of. .500.

Castro, F. de, 'La Octava Maravilla,'
521.

Castro, J. A. de, 'El Triumfo del
Silencio, ' 521.

Castro, M., writings of, 602.

Cavo, woi'ks of, 509.

Central America, literature, etc., of,
45.") -80, 540.

Charts, fece Maps.

Cliinatown, descript. of, 318-418.

Ciiinese, objections to, 240, '245-52,
'205-6; labor of, '240-1; wages, '241;
tliscrimiiiatioii against, '252-3; use-
fulness of, '253-4; complaints
against, 254-5; the Burlingamo
treaty, 202; denunciation of, 267;
persecution, '271-3; as factory op-
eratives, 273-5; rirst arrival of,
309; new coni(u\s, .309-10; children,
310; dress, 311-13; queues, 313;
barbers, 314; characteristics, 314-
17. 353-5; dislike of, 317-18; budd-
ings, 318-19; stores, 319-21; gam-
bling-dens, 3l2, 377-80; streets,
322-3; overcrowding, 3'23-4; squa-
lor among, 3'25-9; homes, .327-8;
food, 329-30; restaurants, 330-5;
opium-dens, 335-7; sign boards,
337-9; business system, 3119-43;
laborers, 34.3-5; gardeners, 345;
operatives, 34,5-8; laundries, 348-9;
rag-j;ickers, 351; tislieries, .349-50;
servants, 350-1; artists, 352; pros-
titutes, 355-7; festivals, 357-60;
new year, 3.")8-65; the drama, .360-
77; conqiauies, 380-2; higlibinders,
3S2; oaths administ. to, 382-3;
diseases, 383-5; medicines 386-8;
physicians, 388-90; hospitals, 390;
funeral rites, etc., 391-0; religion,
397-101; temples, 401-13; worship,
411-13; omens, 413-14; spiritual-
ism, 41 1-15; fortune-tellers, 415-
17; exorcism, 417-18.

Chorley, story of, 143.

Christianity, discussions on, 609-753.

'Chronicas do la Provincias,' .504-5.

Church, literat. in Mux , 481-2; in
Cal., 010-17, 0*2'2-4; influence of on
literat., 048.

INDEX.

757

of,

18.
145-52,

8; usu-
I plaints
iugamo
3f, 'J07;
ory op-
val of,
liiUlreu,
a, 313;
!s, .SM-
buM-
gani-
stroets,
; stpia-
.S'27-8;
330-5;
l)()arcls,
3;19 43;
s, 34.-.;

;us-n;

.-540-50;
pros-

357-01);

ui, 30 J -
iiidurs,
38:-3;
3S6-S;

Is, 300;
•ligioii,
orship,
)iritu:il-
s, 415-

r.f.9 753.
r.04-5.
i\-'2; in
Lue of uu

Cicero, quotation from, 292.

Cisiiuros, J. A., plays, etc.,
581.

Civilization, remarks on, 8-10, 87-8.

Clark, J. F., writing-^ ot, G34.

Clavigoro, works of, 24, 508, (i(j3.

Clumciis, 8. L., works of, 040-1.

ClifTord, J., writings of, 000, 032-3.

Climate of Cal., 202.

Clyde, C, writings of, 645.

Collins, .J. A., niuntion ol, (i20.

Colton, W., writings of, 5y(j, 059.

Commerce in Cal., 224-5.

Compass, the elloct of diseov., 83.

Conile y Oquendo, works of, 534.

<.!onfucianism, .■}97-S.

Contrera, 1'., 'Castigode Dios,' 582.

Coollirith, I., writings of, 000, 045.

Ctiiiperatiiin, remarks on, 431, 451-4.

Corporations, princii.les, etc., t)f,
432-3; ahnsos hy, 433-43; rcstric-
tioiLs on, 435, 440.

Cortes, l^l., M'ritings, etc., of, lo-17,
401-2, 502, Ool.

Cortina, (1. de la, works of, 558, 590.

Cosa, chart of, Oi)7.

Cousin, M., quotations from, 9i, 100.

Covarrul)ias, 1)., works of, 558, 5()0.

Co.x, I., 'Annals of Trinity County,'
018.

Co.x, Rov., mention of, 025.

Crcmonv, Col, writings of, COO, Gil-
Pi, 033.

Criticism, spliere of, 113-14; journal-
istic, 114; talent in, 115; super-
abundance of, 115-10; insincere,
110 17; cla.sses of, 117-20; preten-
sion in, 121-2; liypocri.sy in, 124 5;
motives for, 125 0; among authors,
l;.'0-8; unfairness in, 12S-.33; irrel-
evant, 129 31; Icgitiurato, 134-5;
standards of, I3S; dramatic, 138-9;
(pialilication.s for, i;{9-40; plagiar-
ism, 143 4; style, 144 7.

Crond)LTgiT, .J., works printed by,
etc., 4SI-2, 531.

Cruz, J. A. I. de la, biog., etc.. of,
524-5, 53.".; works of, 525-S, 535.

Cubus, (r., works of, 558, 5'.)0.

Cuellar, J. de, works of, 5(il, 582,
590.

Cuevas, G., writings of, ,''i5,3.

Cummins, A. 11., writing! of, G20.

Daggett, 'Rixror Bar,' 033.
'I'an Do t^liielle,' see Wright, W.
Dark Age, remarks on the, 47.

Davidson, G., 'Marine Mammals,"

020.
Day, Mrs F. H., the 'Hesperian,'

000.
De Bray, collection of, 0G4.
De Foe, D., works of, 144.
Delano A., writings of, 605, 637,

041.
Democracy, progress, etc., of, 83.
De Quincey, criticisms of, 118.
Dcrl)y, (i. li., writmgs of, 041-2.
Despotism, benefits, etc., of, 287-8,

427.
Detter, T., 'Nellie Brown,' 033.
Diaz, B., works of, 14-15, 403, 502,

Ool, 003.
Diaz, J., 'Itincrario de Grijalva,' 14.
Disraeli, B., quotation from, 135.
Diioner, P. W., ' l^iist Days of the

Ri public,' 0.34.
Dorr, 11. C, writings of, 645.
Drama, criticism on the, l.'18-9; Chi-
nese, oO() 7; litcrat. of the, in Mex.,

520-30; 577 84; in Cal., 037-9.
Draper, I. J. \V., works of, 89.
Dress, Chinesi.., 311-13.
Duran, works of, 24.
Duran, Fatlier, ' Historia do las In-

dias, ' 507.
Dwindle, Judge, 'Colonial History

of California,' G18.

Edgerton, H., mention of, 626,
Edwards, W. H., writings, etc., of,

020.
I'.els, Rev., mention of, 025.
Eti'vt, remarks on, 108-9.
Eguiara y Eguren, works of, 512-13.
Klliott, Vt., qm)tation from, 1.'54.
Em'Tson, R. W., quotation Iroin, 105.
Ericiso, 'Suina de ( leografiii,' 001.
F.ngland, tiial by jury in, 'J82-3.
linnlishinen, characteristics, etc., of,

185-0.
Entliusiasm, remarks on, 174-5.
K^calante, F. M., works of, 572,

583.
Esclava, F. (I., works of, 522 3,

527.
Flscudero, C, comedies, etc., of, 582.
Estee, M. M., mention of, (>2I.
Kvans, writings, etc., of, 009.
Europeans, as.suniplion tif, 241- '2,

'257; polit. induence, 243-4.
Ewer, F. C, writings, etc., of, .WJ,

023.
Executions, mode, etc., of, '288-9.

768

INDEX.

Fair, L. D., trial of, 301-2.
Paiiie, remarks on, 179-81.
Piiriiiiain, Mr;^, writings of, 606.
Fulton, J. B., eloquence of, 620.
Ferguson, W. S., mention of, 620.
Festivals, Chinese, 357-66.
Fiction, demand for, 9.'}-4; Mex.

writers of, 559-61; Ual. writers,

«-'7-42.
Field, M. H., writings of, 645.
Field, S. J., writings of, 613.
Field, Mrs, writings of, 645.
Figueroa, Gov., 'Manifesto,' 595.
Fine, O., map of, 667.
Fislier, W. M., writings of, 610.
Fitcli, (}. K., writings of, 598.
Fitoli, T., eloqucnue of, 6'20.
Flores, M. M., works of, 567.
Fontanelle, quotation from, 91.
French, characteristics, etc., of, 196-

8.
Friar, Presbyter, writings of, 522.
B'rouiie, A., tlieory of, 89; quotation

from, 94-5.
Fuuntus y Guzman, works of, 466,

479.

Gage, T., 'Now Survey,' 003.
Giillardo, A. L., works of, 507, 582.
Galio, ' Hoiid)re3 Ilustres,' 556.
Gaily, works of, 633.
Gal van, 1. K., works of, 565-6, 578-

9, 583; biog., 579.
Gambling, Gliinese, 32'2, 377-80; evils

of, 420-1.
Gainboa, F. J., biog. of, 514-15;

works, 515, 5.34.
Gaoiia, J. de, works of, 524.
Garcia, ' Origin,' ()()4.
George H., 'Progress and Poverty,'

598, 020-1.
Germans, cliaracteriatics, etc., of,

193.
Gibl)on, quotation from, 146.
Gil»l)s, G., writings of, 620.
(ril)iiey. Father, mention of, 625.
Gibson, Rev., writings of, 610-11.
G ll>urb, writings of, 598.
Gillies, quotitions from, 142-3.
Giinunez, 'Eu-^nyos Magneticos,' 546.
Ghwoock, M. W., works of, 6.33-4.
Gleeson, W., 'History of the Catholic

Church in California,' 610-17.
Go-nara, works of, 21-2, 402-3, 601.
Gonzales, G. (i., 'Teatro,' 004.
Goodman, J. T., writings of, 645.

Goodman, L., writings of, 645.
Gordon, G., eloquence of, 6'20.
Gorham, writings of, 598.
Gorostiza, M. E. de, plays of, 577-8;

biog., 577-8.
Granico, R., see Steele.
Gray, Rev., mention of, 625.
(jray, T., criticisms of, 127.
Gray, VV., 'A Picture of Pioneer

Times,' 609.
Grayson, writings of, 6'20.
Grey, Father, mention of, 625.
Grey, 'Pioneer Tinies,' 633.
(Jryneus, map of, 667.
Guard, Rev., mention of, 626.
Guatemala, literature of, 464-71.
Guilds, founding, etc., of, 430; hist.

of, 4.30-1.
Gunpowder, eflFect of discov., 83.
Gutierrez, M., 'Una para Todo3,'583.
Gwin, Senator, writings of, 603.

Hakluyt, works of, 662.
Hall, v., works of, 618.
Hallam, criticisms of, 142.
Halleck, H. VV., works of, 621.
Hamertou, quotations from, 131-2,

172, 177.
Hart, .1. A., the ' Argonaut, ' 599.
Hart, B., writings of, GOO, 031-2, 637,

642-0; biog., 031-2.
Hazlitt, W., criticisms of. 117-18,

127-8.
Helps, Sir A., quotation from, 179.
Hemphill, Rev., mention of, 626.
Herrera, works of, 2'2-3, 404, ()03.
Herrera y Rueda, L. A. do O.,

' Poema Sacra, ' 522.
Hetlieringtoii, trial, etc., of, 297-9.
Higginson, quotation from, 141.
History, relation of poetry to, 70; of

mythology, 70-7; of philosophy,

78-9- of war and politics, 79-80;

of monarchy, 81-4; of govt, 84-5;

general field of, 85-0; civilization,

87-9; writers of, 89-90; hist.

metlioil, 92-3; appreciation of, 93;

facts and ideas in, 94-5; exnggera-

tion in, 95-6; the religious clement

in, 90-100; traditions, 97-8; bias.

100-1; qualifications for writing,

103-8; social phenomena, 109 12;

Cent. Amer. writers, 400-9; Mex.

writers, 502-8; Cal. writers, 601-3,

612-18.
Hittell, J. S., writings of, 598, 004,

017-18, 622, 380.

INDEX.

769

Hittell, T., works of, 606, 621.

Holder, Ct., (juotatiou from, 102,

Howard, v., mention of, G26.

Howe, C. E. li., 'Joaquiu Murieta,'
637-8.

Hudson, on railroad abuses, 442-4.

Hudson's Bay Co., treatment of In-
diana by, 07-8.

Ilnlsins, collection of, 664-5.

Humanity, study of, 88-9.

Humboldt, A. von, works of, 665-6.

Hume, works of, 102.

Hurtado. A., plays of, 583.

Hutcliintr.s, J. M., 'California Maga-
zine,' 599,

Icazbalceta, collection of, 5.37.
Iglesias, Mitiister, 'Kevistas,' 552.
J jams. Rev,, mention of, 625.
Indians, treatment, etc., of, 65-74.
Institute Nacional, founding, etc., of,

1833, 538.
Irish, in Cal., 196; polit. influence of,

243-4; compared with Chinamen,

245-6, 257-8.
Irish, J. P., the •Alta,'599.
Irving, VV., on Columbus' voy., 91-2.
Italians, characteristics, etc., of,

199.
Ixtlilxochitl, works of, 19, 496.

<Tapan, visitors from, 1860, 318.

Jerrold. 1)., story ot, 102.

Jewell, Ruv., sermons of, 625,

Jews, in Cal., 199-200.

Jiminez, works of, 473.

Johnson, Dr, criticisms of, 126; quo-
tation from, 134.

Jones, E., the 'California Star,'
597.

Journals, criticisms in, 114-43; of
Cent. Amer., 470-1; names, etc.,
of, 480, 484, 532-3, 540-1, 545, 59G-
601, 659.

Jovius, P., writings of, 102.

Juarros, works of, 466-8.

Judges, trial by, 304-8; election, etc.,
of, 306-7; qualitications, 307-8.

Juries, origin of trial by, 281; un-
necessary, 282, 304; in England,
282-3; arguments for and against,
286-.S07; functions of, 289; disqual-
ifications, 289-91; errors, 29.3-302;
incapacity of, 305-6; system of,
oppressive, SUiS.

Kalloch, Rev., mention of, 626.
Keeler, R., writings of, 632.
Kellog, Professor, writings of, 620.
Kemble, writings of, 598.
Kendall, W. A., writings of, 645.
Kewen, Colonel, eloquence of, 626.
Kimball, C. P., directory of, 1850,

604, 659.
King, (.'., writings of, 600, 608, 619.
King, T. S., sermons, etc., of, 6-4, 626.
Kingsborough, Lord, works, etc , of,

6, 495-6.
Kingship, hist, treatment of, 81-4.
Kip, Bishop, works of, 623.
Kirchotf, 'Reisebildes,'6IO.
Kustel, reports, etc, of, 619.

La Bruyfere, quotation from, 146.

La Harpe, quotation from, 96.

Labor, curse of, 148-53; enforced,
148-9; pleasant, 148-50; rest from,
153; necessity for, 153-6; subdi-
vision of, 155; benefits of, 156-8,
l(i4; kinds of, 159-60; estimation
of, 160-1; excessive, 161; perform-
ance of, 162-3; in Cal., 222-4; re-
marks on, 273-9.

Lacunza, J., works of, 565.

Land, monopoly of, 448-50; distribu-
tion of, 448-50; taxation of, 449-50.

Landa, Bishop, works of, 25, 400.

Laiidivar, R., 'Rusticatio Mexicana,'
474.

Languajre, remarks on, 65.3-5.

Larrainzar, works of, 554, 5!)0.

Larraflaga, J. R., transl. of V'irgil by,
531, 536.

Las Casas, B. de, works of, 20, 460,
4(i2 3, (Uil.

Lawyers, unscrupulousne.ss of, 303.

Lawson, E., writings of, 645.

Lecky, \V. E. H., quotation from, 90.

Legond.s, mediieval, 109.

Leon, F. R. de, works of, 519, 534-5,
571.

I^on y Pinelo, A. de, works of, 512.

Lo Conte, John, writinu's of, (519.

Le Conte, Joseph, writings of, 619.

Libraries, in Mex., 537-8; iu Cal.,
659-(iO.

Lmen, J., writings of, 645.

Literature, as a voc.ition, 171-4; jieri-
o<1ical, 173-4; «»■.'. iiusiasm in, 174;
recnmpunae of, 177-8; liter, fame,
179-81.

750

INDEX.

Literature in California, influences
atfucting, 591-2, (}47-58; early,
593(5; period., 5%-Gl)l; hist, and
(lescript., 601-18; manuscript,
601-.3, 012-13, 008-70; churcii,
010-17, 022-4; scieutitic, etc., 019-
21; oratory, 025-7; fiction, 627-37,
639-42; ilraniatic, 037-9; poetry,
642-6; bibliog., 058-08.

Literature in Central America, condi-
tions of, 455-7; Maya, 458-9; hist.
and descript, 400-9; period., 470-
1; biog., etc., 471; scientific, 472-
3; poetry, 473-8: bibliog., 478-
80.

Literature in Mexico, colonial, 481-
536; early eccles., 481-501; period.,
484-5, 510-3; Nahua, 489-99;
poetry, 498-9, 515-26, 561-77, 584^-
7; hist., 502-8, 548-55, 661-4;
biog., 509-10, 555-6; didactic, 510-
11; bibliog., 511-13, 530-0, 589-90;
dramatic, 520-30, 577-84; niiscell.,
530-0; modern, 5.37-90; liter, socie-
ties, 538; effect of revolution on,
539; satire, 544-0; scientific, 558;
fiction, 559-01; progress of, 587-9;
influences affecting, 047-50; voy-
ages, 0t)l-2.

Lizardi. F. de, works of, 545.

i.iloyd, 'The Lights and Shades in
San Francisco,^ 009-10.

Ijobo, M., works of, 470-1.

Logroilo, 'Manual de Adultos, ' 482.

Loomis, Rev., writings of, 010-11.

Lyell, Sir C, works of, 109.

Macaulay, T. B., bias of, 102, 127.
Macdonald, Rev., mention of, 020.
Mackenzie, R., works of, 0.
Madalena, Father I. de la, 'Escala

Espiritual,' 481-2.
Magazines, see Journals.
Mandeville, Sir J., theory of, 89.
Maneiro, .1. L., works of, 510.
Manufactures, Chinese competition

in, :W5-8.
Maps, Zeno's, 067; Cosa's, 667;

Ptolemy's, 667; Fine's, 667; CJry-

neus', 607; Agnese's, 007; Merca-

tor's, 667.
Mariposa, jury trial in, 1850, 296.
Martinez, J., writings of, 553.
Martyr, P., works of, 21, 001.
Matcos, J., works of, 5.")9-00, 582.
Mathews, W., nuotationa from, 91,

l'25-6, 140, 177.

Mayas, civilization among the, 11-13;

literat. of, 458-01.
McClellan, R. U., works of, 004, 618-

19.
McUougall, J. A., mention of, 626.
Mc(;lashan, ' History of tiie Donner

Party,' 012.
McCowan, ' narrative, ' 607.
McKinley, 'Brigham Young,' 638.
Medina, B., writings of, 500-7.
Mendieta, works, etc., of, 23-4, 505.
Merimee, review of, 133.
Mestizo, condition of the, 7.3.
Mexico, literature of, 14-20, 457,

481-590; oratory in, 513-15, 546-7.
Mexico City, descript. of, 27.
Mier y Uuerra, Doctor, writmgs of,

548-9.
Mill, J. S., quotation from, 92; story

of, 179.
Mill, J., article of, 17.3-4.
Miller, C. H., writings, etc., of, 600,

04.3-4; biog., 043-4.
Miners, characteristics, etc., of, 205-

29.
Mitford, works of, 92-.3.
Monardes, Dr, ' Historia Medicinal,'

001.
Money, use, etc., of, 50-03; love of,

182-3; treatment of, 419.
Monopoly, evils of, 419-40; phases of,

423; of wealth, 424 0; legitimate,

428; growth of, 428 32.
Montes<£uieu, quotation from, 146,
Mora, Doctor, works of, 541), 590.
Morales, .J. B., works of, 545.
Moreno, fables, etc. of, 583.
Morgan, L. H., article of, 1-15, 38.
Morse, J. F., writings of, 615.
Morse, J. T., jr, quotation from,

'201 -'2.
Morure, works of, 469.
Motolinia, Father, works of, 503.
Muir, J., works, etc., of, 019.
Mulford, P., works of, 033, 041.
Munguia, works of, 590.
Mufloz, ' Historia,' 003.
Mythology, relation of to hist., 76-7.

Nahuas, civilization among the, 11,
'27-38; arts of the, '27-31, 30-7;
govt, .31-2; admiuist. of justice,
32-3; land tenure, 33-4; taxation,
34-5; commerce, 35; marriage, etc.,
3.5-6; education, 36; calendar, 37-
8; literat., etc., 489-99.

Napoleon I., career of. 82-.3.

Nature, laws, etc., of, 15'2-5.

INDEX.

761

Nivarett„', M., works of, 562-3.

Nesbit, writitigd ot, 5!J8.

Neiiiiiiiiii, Mm, 'Poetry of the Pa-

citio, ' 045.
Njville, C. M., 'Behind tlie Arra.s.'

6.U-3.
Newman, Mrs, wntiti.,'s of, G45.
Nowspapcra, suo Journals.
Nezahualuoytl, Kin^;, poems of, 4'.>8-9
Nishet, .r., bioir., O.j!).
Xol)le, Riv., mention of, (12.").
Nonlhotf, C, quotation fi'o u, 4-_'(i
Norman, L., 'A Youtii's History of

California,' (51(5.
Novels, see Fiction,

Oclioa, works of, 540, ')H0.

Oehoa y Acuiiis, A. .M., works of,

,''"'7-8. i

O'.VIjira, ' Broleriek and Ovviu,' (Ji:?
Oratory, in Cent. Amor., 47'-'; in !

Mox., 513-15, 541} 7; in Cal. &2o-

Or loiioz, works of, 47:$. \

OroxM y Bjrr.i, works, otc, of, 553- I

4. .V)S, 5,)) I, 58!; l)iog., 5'M. !

Ort.igi. F., 'La Venida,'.-)7I; dramas i

ot, 57i)-8(). I

O.-tiz, L. (}., works of, 5(57. i

Ortiz, T., writinir^ of, 553. j

Onio, writinirs of, 002. i

Oriedo, works of, 20-1, 4()0, 4(52 3, ■

6131.

Ril)lo.s, J, mention of, 481.

Pacheco and Carden.is, collection of

(ii)().
Picitie states, migration, etc., to tlic,

48-!); pro^'ress of, 51-2; future of,

52 3.
Pidilli, 1), writings of, .507.
Pa . M., works of, 50(5.
l'i'j[e. .writings of, G'.)5.
Pilioio, R, works of, .5,")<), .")82, 0(il.
Pilifox, Bislifip, mention of, 5<'»0.
Pilon, F., works of, 594.
I'lrsoiis, a. F., mention of, 59!).
Pascal, quotation from, 140.
Pitui;)re, criticism of, 142.
I'lul, .r., quotation from, 96, l.SO.
Pb'laez, worki of, 4()S.
Pjoa y Co.itroras, ' Romances His-

toricos, ' 571.
P.>rilti, ' N'oticias Histori ens,' .'107-8.
Peroz, P. J., writings of, 573, 590.

I Pesado, J. J. , works of, 569-70.
!Phelp.s, Professor, ' Contenqiorary
I Biography,' ()i4.
j Piiillips, Congressman, story of
I ■i'M. > J ,

j Phillip.s, report.s, etc., of, 619.

Phdosphy, relation of to hist, 78 9.

I'ico, (Jov. P., writings of, 602.

Piedrahita, 'Historia (ienerai,' 6()3.

I'ierpont, Rev., nienti<m of, 62.").

Pimental, ' llistoria Critiea,' 543.

Pineda y Polan.-o, works of, 472.

Pixley, F., writings of, 598.

Plagiarism, remarks on, 14.3 4.

Piatt, Rev,, mention of, 625.
Poetry, relation of to hist. 76; Cent.
Amer., 473-8; Mex., 498 9, 515-
'2(i, 561 77, 584-7; Cal., (i42-6.
Poets, as critics, ]2()-8, 141-2.
Polities, hist, treatment of, 79-80.
Pollock, F., writings of, 645.
' Popnl Vuh,' descript. of, 458-9.
P(U-ter, N., quotation from. 9.3, 103 4.
Powell, I. 1., w ritings of, 604.
Powell, J. .1., reports, etc., of, 619.
I owell, 'Wonders,' (i08.
Powers, S., writings of, 611-12, 633.
Prendergast, Father, mention of,'
625.

Prcscott, M'orks of, 25.
PrtJstou, 1,., woiks oi, 635-6.
Prieto, <;., works of, 572, .')90.
Prieto, 1., dramas, etc.. of, 58,3.
Piloting, etieet of di.seov.. S3.
Ptolemy, maps, etc., of, 661-'2, 667.
Purchas, ' Pdgrime.s,' 665.

Qiiicln^s, literat. of the, 4,')S-9
|(t>uillam, H. 'I(lcalina,'(jt.-).
Quintana, ' Meilitaiioncs.' 590.
(Aunturo, C, works of, 534.

Railroad companies, oliject of chart-
ers to, 435; ahu.ses hv, 4.35 43;
good control of, 443 5; refori,is
suggested, 443-5; r. r. commissions,
444 5.
Ramirez, I., writings of, 568.
I I'.imnsio, 'Navigationc at Viaui" '
' 661 2.

Riiii.h.lph, E., writings, etc., i,f, GI4,

626.
' Reylaineiito Provincial.' 595.
Keid, H., writings of, 018.

7S2

INDEX.

Reli)^inn, connection of with hiatory,

Uu-liH); ot ttic t'liiiieae, 397-4U1;

tliscussioii on, 071-705.
Keniu^jal, worka of, 464-3.
Kuiituurunts, Ciiinese, 330-5.
Key, E., i)liy8 of, 583.
Uliclea, VV. H , writings of, 634.
Kiuiiler, .J. P., quotations from, 90,

1.S5, 4'J5.
KitlKe, J. R., writing.s of, 645,
Kipal.ia, 'Catecisino,' 595.
Kivora, M., worlis of, 555, 590.
Ki>l>in.s(>n, A., 'Life in California,*

59(j, 059.
Rodriguez y Cos, ' Anahuac,' 509
Rogers, criticisms of, 128.
Roman, A., the 'Overlanil Monthly,'

COO.
Romero, J. M., ' Catecismo,' 595.
Roo, Q., works of, 505.
Rosa, L. de la, works of, 572.
Rosas y Moreno, J., works of, 546.
Rousseau, (jiiotittion from, 196.
Ruiz, T., Verses of. 509.
Ruiz y liara, eclogue of, 475.
Ruz, J., mention of, 590.
Ryan, R, F., writings ^f, 614.

Sahagun, Father, 'Historia General,'
19-20.

Sainte Beuve, quotation from, 1, 140;
criticisms of, 117-18, 129, 140.

^alazar, M. P., works of, 505.

San Francisco, character of popula-
tion, 229-33; woman in, 232-3;
jury trials in, 295-302; Chinatown,
318-418.

San Jose, Chinese colony at, 351-2.

■Santacilla, ' Oenio del Mai,' 540.

Karitlana, works of, 572, 580.

Sarria, President, sermons of, 596.

.Sartorio, writings, etc., of, 540-7,
573.

iSavagism, remarks on, 8-10.

tSaxon, 1., 'Five Years within the
(Johlen Gate,' 010.

Scammon, writings of, 600, 020.

Science, dogma in, 99; Cent. Amer.
writers on, 472-3; Mex. writers,
558; Cal. writers, 019-21.

Scott, Sir W., 'Lay of the Last Min-
strel,' 142-3.

Scott, VV. A , works, etc., of, 023-4.

Si^gnra, J., sonnets, etc., of, 572.

Segura, v., verses of, 572.

Semple, R, the 'Califori.ian,' 596.

Seon y Contreaa, J., plays of, 581.

Seybongh, writings of, 598.
Shakespeare, works of, 144.
Shuck, 0., works of, 014.
Shirley, Mrs, writings of, G05-6.
Sierra, J., writings of, 573.
Siguenza, works of, 511, 521.
■Jilva, A., works, etc., of, 572, 583.
Simonton, E. A., writings of, 045.
Slavery, ovils of, 247-8, 200.
Smith, G., theory of, 89; quotation

from, JOO.
Smith, K. D., writings of, 036.
'Sociedad de Geogratia,' Oi.O.
Solis, A. lie, works of, 22, 4S7, 663
Soria, F. de, comedies of, 583.
Sosa, F., works of, 555-0.
Soule, F., writings of, 598, 645.
Spain, Ind. policy of, OJ.
Spaniards, characteristics, etc., of,

198-9.
Spanish America, treatment of In-
dians in, 73.
Spanish Americans in Cal., 187-8.
Speculation, remarks on, 107; evils,

etc , of, 420-22.
Speer, Rev., writings of, 010-11.
Spencer, U., quotations from, 137,

285.
Spiritualism, Chinese, 414-15.
Squier, works of, 400.
Steam-engines, eii'cct of invention,

431 -'2.
Stebhins, Rev., mention of, 025.
Steele, writings of, 034.
Stewart, 'Last of the Filibusters,'

000.
Stillman, 'Seeking the Golden

Fleece,' 611.
Stoddard, C. W., writings of, 000,

045.
Stoddard, R. H., quotation from,

179.
Stone, A. L., 'Memorial Discourses,'

6i;5.
Stratton, R. B., writings of, 006.
Stratton, Rev. mentioii of, 0.5.
Stretch, R. H., writings ot, 020.
Style, remarks on, 144-7.
Success, remarks on, 105-71.
Sumner, C. A., mention of, C2G.
Sutter, Capt., writings of, 003.
Swett, J., writings of, 02.).
Swift, J. F., works of, 033, 641.

Tagle, S. ne, works of, 504- -5.
Talfourd, Judge, 'Lm,' 143.
Tanco, B., works of, 511.

INDEX.

763

Taxation of land, 4^l9-".0.
Taylor, A., writings ot, 614.
Taylor, Kev. W., worka of, 607.

625.
Tellez, ' liatoj Perdidos, ' 569.
Tollo, ' Cioiiica do Jalisco,' 506.
■ emples, Chinese, 401-13.
Terry, Judge, trial of, 2U7.
' Teul'eUdrockh,' quotation from, 163,

174.

Tliackeray, VV. M., quotation from,
135.

Tlieatres, Chinese, 367-73.

Thirhvall, worka of, 92~:i.

Thomas, J. B., mention of, 625.

Throckmorton, Sir N., speech of.
1554, 202.

Timon, ' Noticias, ' 663.

Tinkham, works of, 618.

Tolaiul, Dr, lectures, etc., of, 620.

Tolaud, M. B. M., works of, 645.

Tornel, (i., mention ol, 583.

Torquemada, works of, 23, 486, 505-
6, (i63.

Torvella, ' El Mulato,' 582.

Tovar, J. (le, works of, 500-1.

Tovar, P. works of, 572.

Traveller, A. C, 'Teachings of the

Ages,' 622-3.
Tradition, in history, 97-8.
Trcbarra, 'Misterioa de Chan,' 560.
Troncoso, J. N., mention of, 545.
Truman, writings of, 608, 6:i3.
Turrill, 'California Notes,' 608.
Tutliill, F., 'History of California,'

615-16; death of, 616.
Twain, M., see Clemens, S. L.

United States, civilization in, 51-3;
treatment of Indians, 67-74; hist,
of the, 85-6; early condition of,
235-6; foreigners invited to, '236-7;
ill! migration to, 239-40, 258 60;
the Cliinese question, 239-78; Afri-
cans in, 256; danger of overcrowd-
mg, 260-1; influence of foreijjiiers
in, 268-9.

Valencia, J., ' Teressiada, ' 523.

Valle, J., writings of, 567.

Vallejo, Gen., writings of, 595,

()03.
Van de Mark, Rev., mention of,

(i.'6.
Vazquez, works of, 465-6, 471, 480.

Vela, E., works of, 528.

Ver Mehr, 'Checkered Life,' 613-

Verne, K, 'Fidclite,' 6.^5.
Vetancurt, worka of, 24, 506.
Veytia, works of 496, 508.
Victor, Mrs F. F., writings of, 600

604, 613, 635-6, 645.
ViUagra, G. de, 'Historia,' 520.

663.
Villalobos, J., plays of, 583.
Villaseflor, P., ' Eiicarnacion Rosas,*

579.

Virginians, characteristics, etc., of
191-6.

Voyages, collections of, 661-2, 665-6.

Wadsworth, Rev., sermons, etc., of,
625.

Wakeman, Capt., ' Log of an Ancient
Mariner,' 611.

War, hist, treatment of, 79.

Water, distr.bution of, 450-1.

Wealth, pursuit of, 421-2, 446-7.
evils of excessive, 4'22-6; allure-
ments of, 4'25.

Webb, 'Our Friend from Victoria,"
638.

Wentworth, Mary, see Neumann,
Mrs.

VA'')iipple, quotation from, 422.

Whitney, A., 'Almond-eyed,' 634

Widney, Judge, 'The Plan of Crea-
tion,'623.

Wierzbicki, F. P., 'California as It
is,' 604.

Willey, Rev., 'Thirty Years in Cali-
fornia,' 613.

Williams, Rev., 'A Pioneer Pas-
torate and Times,' 613; sermons of,
625.

Williams, T. T., Writings of, 599.

Woods, Rev., 'Recollections of Pio-
neer Work,' 613.

W(»rdsworth, criticisms, etc., of, 119.
141. . - , ,

WWth, J. .J., 'A Dissertation,' 601.
Wright, W., writings of, 610, 636,

641.
Wright, MrsW., writings of, 642.

Ybarra, J. de P., mention of, 470.
Young, J. P., writings of, 598-9.
Yucatan, literat. of, 573.

764

IXOKX.

Zalvadea, traiisliitioii'i of, 59i).
Zriinaiois, works of, 54(i, 255.
Zairiora, J. (1., plays of, 583.
Ziirco, satires of, 5(i'J.
Zavala, L. de, works of, 541), 590.

; Zay.is y Eiiri(|Uoz, jjlays of, 583.
{ Zeno, map of, Oti7.
] ZcruL't'ro, A., works of, 549, 590.
I Zuinarragii, Bishop .t., l»iog.,
I iconoclasiii of, 494-5.
Zurita, A. dc, report of, 17.

449;

4J<»;