CO 
 
 o 
 
 Q 
 
 
 
 STRAl -. - 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
ERSONS, PLACES AND 
 IDEAS : MISCELLANEOUS 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 BY B. O. FLOWER, AUTHOR OF 
 "CIVILIZATION S INFERNO," "THE 
 NEW TIME," AND "GERALD MASSEY. 
 
 WITH OVER THIRTY FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE ARENA PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY, COPLEY SQUARE, 
 BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A. 
 
* 
 
 (UftiS ^ofume is inScri&eei 
 to tfte memory 
 
 (Sibeon Q. IReeb, 
 
 @ne op tRe pounelerS op JRe )\rena 
 
 maa 
 
 ac^ unostentatious aii. to 
 in neeel or eliStreSS aoaS 
 equaffeil 6ij fiiS fifecra 
 to tfte cauSe of Science 
 
 , ani. fi 
 tRougftt, 
 
of Contents, 
 
 CHAPTEK. PAGE. 
 
 I. DEDICATION 
 
 II. CHARLES DARWIN . . 7 
 
 III. AN IDEALISTIC DREAMER WHO SINGS IN THE MINOR KEY . 10 
 
 IV. MASK OR MIRROR . . . . . . . . .27 
 
 V. A POET OF THE PEOPLE .... . . 37 
 
 VI. AFTER SIXTY YEARS . ... . .50 
 
 VII. ClIESTER-ON-TIIE-DEE ........ *>5 
 
 VIII. STROLLS BEYOND THE WALLS OF CHESTER . . 86 
 
 IX. WINTER DAYS IN FLORIDA . . ..... 106 
 
 X. RELIGIOUS THOUGHT IN COLONIAL DAYS 
 
 XI. SOME SOCIAL IDEALS HELD BY VICTOR HUGO . . . 142 
 
 XII. FOSTERING THE SAVAGE IN THE YOUNG . . . . 1^8 
 
 XIII. HYPNOTISM AND ITS RELATION TO PSYCHICAL RESEARCH . 1^9 
 
 XIV. CRUCIAL MOMENTS IN NATIONAL LIFE . . . 178 
 
 XV. ROOM FOR THE SOUL OF MAN . . . ... .181 
 
 XVI. THE AUGUST PRESENT . .... 184 
 
HUuetrations, 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAKLES DARWIN, Full-Page Portrait With Autograph ... 6 
 LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON, Full-Page Portrait With Autograph 18 
 SMALL PORTRAIT OF MR. HEARN AND THRP:E SCENES FROM SHORE- 
 ACRES . ... . 26 
 
 JAMES G. CLARK, Full-Page Portrait With Autograph . 36 
 
 BISHOP LLOYD S HOUSE, CHESTER .66 
 
 A ROMAN ALTAR FOUND IN EXCAVATION IN CHESTER . 66 
 
 THE OLD STANLEY PALACE . 67 
 
 A VIEW OF WATERGATE TOWER AND THE CITY WALLS . . . 68 
 PHCENIX TOWER FROM THE CANAL . . . . . .70 
 
 A STREET IN CHESTER ... . . ... . ." . . .72 
 
 GOD S PROVIDENCE HOUSE . . . v . . . . . 73 
 
 RUINS OF THE CHURCH OF ST. JOHN . 74 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL OF CHESTER . . . . . . .75 
 
 OLD CLOISTER BELONGING TO THE CATHEDRAL OF CHESTER . . 76 
 THE GROSVENOR BRIDGE OVER THE DEE . . . ^ ... 78 
 CHESTER FROM THE DEE . ... . . ... .88 
 
 EATON HALL, The Country Seat Of The Duke Of Westminster . . 90 
 
 GRAND SALOON IN EATON HALL . . 92 
 
 LIBRARY IN EATON HALL ... . .... .94 
 
 PORTRAIT OF GLADSTONE AND HIS GRANDDAUGHTER . . . 97 
 HAWARDEN, The Home Of W. E. Gladstone . . . 99 
 
 WINTER SCENES ON AN ISLAND IN THE HALIFAX RIVER . . 107 
 
 THE TOMOKA RIVER .... 108 
 
 A VIEW OF THE HALIFAX RIVER FROM HALIFAX PENINSULA OPPO 
 SITE DAYTONA 110 
 
illustrations, 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 TOMOKA CABIN ON THE BANK OF THE TOMOKA . . . .Ill 
 
 WINTER SCENE ON THE HALIFAX BEACH . . . x .112 
 
 WINTER BATHING ON EAST COAST OF FLORIDA ... . . 113 
 
 MOONLIGHT ON THE HALIFAX BEACH 114 
 
 CLAM DIGGING AND BATHING ON THE HALIFAX BEACH IN FEB 
 RUARY . . . . . ..... . - - . .115 
 
 A STORM ON THE OCEAN . 116 
 
 RIVER ROAD FROM DAYTONA TO HOLLY HILL . . . . .118 
 
 BEACH STREET, DAYTONA, FLORIDA , 120 
 
 VOLUSIA AVENUE, DAYTONA, FLORIDA =121 
 
 ANOTHER SCENE ON BEACH STREET, DAYTONA . . . , 122 
 RIDGEWOOD AVENUE, DAYTONA, FLORIDA . . . r .124 
 LIVE OAK AND PALMETTO ON THE RIVER BANKS AT DAYTONA . 125 
 THE PALMETTO IN BLOSSOM . . . . . . . . 126 
 
 THE ORANGE BLOSSOM . . . . . . . . . 128 
 
 MAGNOLIA BLOSSOMS . . . . . . . . .129 
 
 VICTOR HUGO, Full-Page Portrait With Autograph . . . . 143 
 

 a. jr. 
 
Xife of Cbarlea 2)arwiru 
 
 i. 
 
 THE name of Charles Darwin will ever be pre-eminent among 
 the immortal coterie of commanding thinkers who have made 
 the nineteenth century the most notable epoch in the history of 
 scientific thought and attainment. The influence of his careful 
 and patient research and the logical deductions which he gave 
 mankind in his masterly volumes have changed, to a great 
 extent, the current of a world s thought. Not that Darwin 
 alone accomplished this, for never was king surrounded by more 
 loyal knights than was this great man environed by giant think 
 ers who nobly fought for the thought he sought to establish, 
 against the combined opposition of established religious and 
 scholastic conservatism. But the important fact must not be 
 overlooked that had it not been for the years of patient observa 
 tion and research, which enabled Mr. Darwin tangibly to demon 
 strate the truth of many important contested questions, the 
 splendid philosophical presentations of Spencer, the important 
 labors of Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace, and other scarcely less 
 vigorous thinkers would have only been sufficient to arouse a 
 fierce war, which even a century might not have settled, in 
 favor of the bold innovators. Hence Mr. Darwin will ever stand 
 as the great apostle of evolutionary thought, vaguely fore 
 shadowed by Buffon, St. Hilaire, and Erasmus Darwin, and 
 boldly outlined by Lamarck. Around his head the storm of con 
 servatism, intolerance, and religious bigotry played. He was 
 sneeringly styled the "monkey man," and his thoughtful observa 
 tions and deductions, which were the results of more than thirty 
 years of patient research, were wantonly caricatured and dis"- 
 torted by men who above all others should have demanded for 
 them a frank and candid hearing. It is eminently proper, there 
 fore, that by common consent Charles Darwin be assigned the 
 loftiest niche in the temple of evolutionary thought. And yet 
 we must never forget that he was essentially a demonstrator; his 
 mind ever dwelt upon the special the minute. The broad, 
 philosophical vision of Herbert Spencer was absent in Darwin ; 
 and in the nature of the case he could not see, much less develop, 
 the full ethical significance of the truth of which he is the most 
 
8 persons, places ant) flfceas, 
 
 illustrious prophet. There is another phase of Darwin s life 
 which renders it peculiarly interesting and helpful. In the man 
 we find one of the noblest types of nineteenth-century life. 
 Darwin the scientist is imposing. Darwin the man is inspiring. 
 The former stimulates the intellect ; the latter enriches, by its 
 luminous example, the soul life of all who patiently follow the 
 great savant through the long years of invalidism, in which his 
 sweet spirit ever shone resplendent, and his love for truth was 
 an over-mastering passion. 
 
 II. 
 
 In the life of Charles Darwin we find a striking illustration of 
 the gradual unfolding or evolution of character. In boyhood he 
 was neither bright nor over-burdened with virtue ; in his early 
 life we search in vain for any of those luminous scintillations of 
 genius which have characterized the youth of many illustrious 
 persons. Indeed, if we are to rely on the charmingly frank auto 
 biography written for his children, he was a very commonplace 
 boy, generally considered dull, and more or less given to lying, 
 not with a vicious intent, but owing to a youthful desire to create 
 a sensation. 
 
 Charles Darwin was not a person who would have shone in 
 any walk of life ; indeed, if his father had not been a man of 
 means, and the son had felt compelled to qualify himself for the 
 profession of a physician, as was at first contemplated, or if he 
 had entered the ministry of the Church of England, for which 
 he was afterward partially qualified, he would, in all probability, 
 have passed his life in some obscure nook unknown to fame, for 
 he was singularly free from ambition. 
 
 It was his great quenchless love for scientific pursuits, largely 
 inherited from his grandfather, whose latent fires Professor Hens- 
 low fanned into flames, and later his great desire to aid in solving 
 the mystery of life, which haunted his every step, urging him 
 onward with irresistible sway. Indeed, we may say Charles Dar 
 win became famous in spite of himself. 
 
 Of his boyhood, he observes, in an abandon of candor : 
 
 I believe that I was considered by all my masters and by my father 
 as a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard in intellect. 
 To my deep mortification, my father once said to me: "You care for 
 nothing but shooting, dogs, and rat-catching, and you will be a disgrace 
 to yourself and all your family." But my father, who was the kindest 
 man I ever knew, and whose memory I love with all my heart, must 
 have been angry and somewhat unjust when he used such words. 
 
 Again he continues : 
 
 One little event has fixed itself very firmly in my mind, and I hope 
 that it has done so from my conscience having been afterwards sorely 
 
%tfe of Cbarles 2)arwin. 9 
 
 troubled by it. I told another little boy [I believe it was Leigliton, who 
 afterwards became a well-known lichenologist and botanist], that I could 
 produce variously colored polyanthuses and primroses by watering them 
 with certain colored fluids, which was, of course, a monstrous fable, 
 and had never been tried by me. I may here also confess that as a little 
 boy I was much given to inventing deliberate falsehoods, and this always 
 was done for the sake of causing excitement. For instance, I once 
 gathered much valuable fruit from my father s trees and hid it in the 
 shrubbery, and then ran in breathless haste to spread the news that I had 
 discovered a hoard of stolen fruit. I must have been a very simple little 
 fellow when I first went to the school. A boy of the name of Garnett 
 took me into a cake shop one day, and bought some cakes for which he 
 did not pay, as the shopmpn trusted him. When we came out I asked him 
 why he did not pay for them, and he instantly answered, " Why, do you 
 not know that my unc)-2 left a great sum of money to the town on condi 
 tion that every tradesman should give whatever was wanted without 
 payment to any ore who wore his old hat and moved [it] in a particular 
 manner?" and ho then showed me how it was moved. He then went 
 into another shop where he was trusted, and asked for some small article, 
 moving his hat in the proper manner, and of course obtained it without 
 payment. When we came out he said, " Now if you like to go by yourself 
 into that cake shop, I will lend you my hat, and you can get whatever you 
 like if you move the hat on your head properly." I gladly accepted the 
 generous offer, and went in and asked for some cakes, moved the old hat, 
 and was walking out of the shop when the shopman made a rush at me. 
 So I dropped the cakes and ran for dear life, and was astonished by 
 being greeted with shouts of laughter by my false friend Garnett. 
 
 These frank observations are valuable as indicating that in 
 the youth we see little upon which we might reasonably predicate 
 a brilliant future. He possessed, however, strong and diversified 
 taste, " much zeal for whatever interested him, and a keen pleas 
 ure in understanding any complex subject or thing." * But while 
 painstaking and persevering along lines of research which were 
 attractive, he was ill-disposed to master any subject for which 
 he had no taste. Thus he declares that his early schooling, which 
 extended over a period of seven years, " was simply a blank," 
 owing to the fact that the curriculum was strictly classical, and 
 for such study Darwin had neither aptitude nor taste. 
 
 When fifteen years old, his father sent him to Edinburgh, as it 
 had been determined that he should become a physician. Of his 
 experience here he says : 
 
 The instruction at Edinburgh was altogether by lectures, and these 
 were intolerably dull, with the exception of those on Chemistry by 
 Hope. Dr. Duncan s lectures on Materia Medica at eight o clock on a 
 
 winter s morning are something fearful to remember. Dr. made 
 
 his lectures on human anatomy as dull as he was himself, and the sub 
 ject disgusted me. . . . During my second year at Edinburgh I at 
 tended s lectures on Geology and Zoology, but they were incred 
 ibly dull. The sole effect they produced on me was the determination 
 never as long as I lived to read a book on Geology, or in any way to 
 study the science. 
 
 * " Life and Letters of Charles Darwin," Vol. I., page 30. 
 
10 persons, places anfc Ut>eas, 
 
 After spending two sessions in Edinburgh, his father, who had 
 learned that his son did not intend to practice medicine, deter 
 mined to have him enter the clergy. Accordingly he was sent 
 to Cambridge, where he passed three years ; and owing to lax 
 examinations and some extra studying immediately before exam 
 ination, he succeeded in passing his examinations, being tenth in 
 the list. Of his school days at Cambridge, he writes : 
 
 During the three years which I spent at Cambridge my time was 
 wasted, as far as the academical studies were concerned, as completely 
 as at Edinburgh and at school. I attempted mathematics, and even 
 went during the summer of 1828 with a private tutor [a very dull man] 
 to Barmouth, but I got on very slowly. The work was repugnant 
 to me, chiefly from my not being able to see any meaning in the early 
 steps in algebra. With respect to classics, I did nothing except attend a 
 few compulsory college lectures, and the attendance was almost nomi 
 nal. In my second year I had to work for a month or two to pass the 
 Little-Go, which I did easily. Again, in my last year I worked with 
 some earnestness for my final degree of E. A., and brushed up my 
 classics, together with a little Algebra and Euclid. In order to pass the 
 B. A. examination, it was also necessary to get up " Paley s Evidences of 
 Christianity" and his "Moral Philosophy." This was done in a thor 
 ough manner, and I am convinced that I could have written out the whole 
 of the "Evidences" with perfect correctness, but not of course in the 
 clear language of Paley. The logic of this book and, as I may add, of 
 his "Natural Theology," gave .me much delight. I did not at that time 
 trouble myself about Paley s premises, and, taking these on trust, I was 
 charmed and convinced by the long line of argumentation. 
 
 In the light of the above observations of Mr. Darwin, coupled 
 with his statement that he had previously mastered " Pearson on 
 the Creeds" and other standard theological works, and that he 
 looked forward with keen delight to the prospect of being a 
 clergyman, it is interesting to remember that within a few brief 
 years he was destined to call forth, as did no other individual of 
 his generation, an avalanche of denunciation, misrepresentation, 
 and bitter invective from the world of Christian thought. What 
 would have been his amazement if, while he was revelling in 
 " Paley s Evidences," the curtain of futurity had parted before 
 him, revealing the Charles Darwin of thirty years later, then 
 the storm-centre of a world s thought, with the lightning of 
 clerical wrath playing about him and the thunders of theological 
 and conservative thought crashing above his head. Darwin, the 
 theological student, gave small hint of holding within the woof 
 and web of his brain the thought-germs which were destined to 
 play so important a part in changing the current of a world s 
 thought; and had it not been for a few seemingly trivial happen 
 ings and events which occurred about this time, the world would 
 probably know even less of Charles Darwin to-day than it does 
 of his obscure brother. But for his meeting with Professor 
 Ilenslow, who seemed drawn with a strange fascination to the 
 
%tfe of Cbaries Darwin. n 
 
 young student ; but for Darwin chancing to read Humboldt s 
 " Personal Narrative," which stirred his w r hole nature and fired 
 him with an intense longing to contribute in a small way to the 
 noble structure of natural science ; and, lastly, had not the cap 
 tain of the Beagle desired to take with him a competent natural 
 ist during his voyage around the world, it is more than probable 
 that the great philosopher would have been simply the Rev. 
 Charles Darwin, officiating at some retired parish. Is it chance 
 or destiny which so often, in the most unexpected and seemingly 
 trivial circumstance, alters the course of a life, which in turn 
 changes the current of a world s thought? The ifs of history 
 and biography are a theme interesting and perplexing. Here 
 is a boy, devoid of all ambition for renown, accounted dull, 
 plodding through college, nearing the day when he is to enter 
 the clergy; but his association with a great student of natural 
 science, who is also an enthusiast, results in firing in the youth 
 the hereditary love of physical science inherited from his 
 grandfather. Humboldt s work adds greatly to the. already 
 kindled flame. Next, the unexpected opening for him to go as 
 naturalist on the Beagle, and finally the overcoming of his 
 father s stubborn opposition to this journey by Charles Darwin s 
 uncle, Josiah Wedgwood. These are the principal links in the 
 chain of circumstances which changed the theological student 
 into the foremost naturalist of our century, and through Dar- 
 w r in s observations and demonstrations changed, in an almost 
 incredibly short time, the scientific thought of the world, requir 
 ing a readjustment of theology and giving to life and law a 
 vaster and nobler significance than they had hitherto held in the 
 human mind. Were these links, the absence of any one of which 
 might have been fatal, the result of blind chance or a law-ordered 
 destiny ? 
 
 III. 
 
 The five years cruise of the Beagle, the real university course 
 of Darwin, the physical scientist, was so rich in information that 
 from the garnered truths, in the course of time, a world was to 
 be moved, nay more, the thought of ages was destined, largely 
 through the accretions of knowledge thus gained, to be revolu 
 tionized. We have seen from his own utterances how unsat 
 isfactory was his scholastic training. Now, however, he stepped 
 into the broad expanse of a new world. Here, for the first time, 
 the hunger of his soul experienced satisfaction. No longer com 
 pelled to feed upon the husks of classical thought, but untram 
 melled under the great blue dome, with zone-wide class room in 
 which to master Nature s profoundest truths, Charles Darwin, the 
 dunce, became an intellectual Titan. True, his illustrious prede- 
 
12 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 cessors had blazed the way with speculative thought before him, 
 and this, to a mind like the young naturalist s, was of inestimable 
 value ; indeed, had not the luminous, speculative thought of St. 
 Hilaire, Erasmus Darwin, and Lamarck shone as a pillar of lire 
 before him, it is doubtful whether Darwin would have made any 
 distinctively epoch-marking contributions to science, because the 
 younger naturalist was a demonstrator rather than a discoverer. 
 He belonged to that class whose intellect always require a clue ; 
 with that, through profound research and unflagging perseverance, 
 they demonstrate great truths. Besides this mental peculiarity, 
 his extreme lack of confidence in himself or the proper value of 
 his own works would have prevented his advancing his discoveries 
 in any other than a tentative or hesitating manner, had he felt 
 that he was announcing a theory not only contrary to the world- 
 accepted thought, but one undreamed of by human minds before 
 him. 
 
 In Brazil, Darwin for the first time beheld the teeming, strug 
 gling, self-strangling life of the tropics. Here he beheld sugges 
 tions of that life which through unknown ages marked our globe 
 from pole to pole. Next passed before him in slowly moving 
 panorama the treeless pampas of South America; Patagonia, 
 with its well-nigh Arctic zone, its almost naked savages, and its 
 interesting natural features, standing in bold contrast to the 
 lately visited luxuriance of Brazil. The Andes of the Western 
 coast were next explored, and from their rock- writ records im 
 portant truths hitherto unobserved were gleaned. From South 
 America the Beagle traversed the Pacific in a serpentine course, 
 weighing anchor at the Galapagos Archipelago, the Polynesian 
 Islands, New Zealand, and Australia. At each point Darwin 
 made discoveries of moment, either in geology, zoology, or bot 
 any ; while as straws carried by a strong current, numerous bio 
 logical facts drifted before his mental vision, tending to confirm 
 the great theory which was already taking possession of his mind. 
 In Australia, Darwin personally examined a fragment of an ancient 
 world ; here is found antiquated fauna strangely like the life of 
 Europe ages ago. At the Keeling Island, our scientific Columbus 
 made further discoveries and observations of the coral reefs, 
 destined to produce an important impression on the thought of 
 his age. 
 
 From Australia, the Beagle slowly moved homeward, making 
 many stops of more or less importance to Darwin, among which 
 were Mauritius, St. Helena, and the Azores. On Oct. 2, 1836, 
 the weather-beaten vessel reached England, having circumnavi 
 gated the globe, although she had consumed five instead of two 
 years of time, as was expected when she sailed. 
 
 Darwin was particularly fitted by nature for the work he was 
 
Xtfe of Cbarles Darwin. 13 
 
 called upon to perform. His was the mind of a specialist. The 
 most minute objects attracted his attention no less than the 
 remains of the mammoth forms which inhabited the globe ages 
 before the advent of man. Thus we find him patiently examin 
 ing through his microscope the dust which the wind blows upon 
 the ship. Though a specialist, his mind ran not in a narrow 
 groove. Everything relating to biology of course held for him 
 a special charm; geology, zoology, botany, and, indeed, all the 
 phases of physical science exerted an irresistible fascination over 
 his mind. Again, he was probably the most painstaking and per 
 severing working naturalist of our age. While on board the 
 Beagle, during the entire voyage, he suffered most distressingly 
 from sea-sickness ; yet he daily persevered in his microscopical 
 investigation and scientific observations with unremitting perse 
 verance, although he frequently found it necessary to leave his 
 work for a time and seek a horizontal attitude. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Judging from the large number of voluminous books written 
 by the invalid worker of Down,* one would suppose his was a 
 wonderfully facile pen ; but such Avas by no means the case. 
 He had poor command of language and was unusually slow and 
 clumsy as a writer, frequently having to recast a sentence many 
 times before he succeeded in conveying the idea he desired to 
 present on paper. In writing of this great hindrance to work he 
 observed : " There seems to be a sort of fatality in my mind, 
 leading me to put my statements or propositions at first in a 
 wrong or awkward form." And again, toward the close of life, 
 he says : " I have as much difficulty as ever in expressing myself 
 clearly and concisely, and this difficulty has caused me a great 
 loss of time." What, however, Darwin lacked in ease and fa 
 cility of expression, he made up in perseverance. His work 
 haunted him ni;ht and day. He realized that more than one 
 lifetime would be necessary properly to marshal the multitude 
 of vital facts which crowded upon his mental vision. Thus for 
 over forty years he toiled with brain and pen, dying in the armor, 
 before his magnificent intellect, which had revolutionized a world, 
 had become dimmed, and in this particular the oft-repeated desire 
 of his life was granted. 
 
 In 1839 Darwin published his "Journal of Researches in Xat- 
 ural History and Geology of the Countries Visited during the 
 Voyage of H. M. S. Beagle." It scored an immediate success, 
 much to the surprise and gratification of its author. Pie shortly 
 after edited the publication of the " Zoology of the Voyage of 
 
 * Darwin, after circumnavigating the prlobe, settled for a time in London, but after 
 ward removed to a comfortable, roomy home in Down, where he passed the long laborious 
 years of his useful life in tireless work. 
 
14 persons, places anfc flfceas* 
 
 H. M. S. Beagle," a work which comprised five large volumes. 
 In 1842 he published - The Structure and Distribution of Coral 
 Reefs," a discussion which greatly enhanced his reputation. 
 In rapid succession appeared other valuable scientific trea 
 tises ; indeed, the amount of literary work accomplished by Mr. 
 Darwin is amazing Avhen it is remembered that his entire literary 
 career was one long night of painful invalidism, apart from which 
 writing was always slow and laborious work. In 1859 he electri 
 fied the scientific world by bringing out his great masterwork, 
 "The Origin of Species." It was a bugle call. Instantaneously 
 the old and new thought among scientists were marshalled under 
 opposing banners, and one of the most fierce and decisive battles 
 known in the history of literature was fought. Fortunately for 
 Darwin, however, the age had produced a race of giants, many 
 of whom, like the author of "The Origin of Species," had caught 
 inspiration from Lamarck. These at once arranged themselves 
 around Mr. Darwin. The magnificent brain of Herbert Spencer 
 had before this given the world the luminous truths from the 
 realm of the speculative philosophy, while so great a working 
 naturalist as Wallace reinforced Darwin with the rich treasures 
 he had gathered during years of patient study under the torrid 
 sun of the Malay Archipelago. The Church, as was perfectly 
 natural, ranged herself upon the side of conservatism, and as 
 sailed this new thought with a bitterness of spirit which indi 
 cated that she had not left the Dark Ages so far behind her that 
 the spirit Avhich made them one long night of horrors had entirely 
 disappeared. As a rule, the scientific criticism was dignified, and 
 though often bitter, the writers were usually as fair as could be 
 expected. The reviewers, however, who possessed little or no 
 knowledge of physical science, often assailed they knew not 
 what, being inspired by fanatical zeal resulting from a wide 
 spread fear that the new thought would destroy religion. These 
 critics frequently grossly misrepresented, mercilessly ridiculed, 
 and childishly caricatured the great patient disciple of nature, 
 whose sole purpose in life was to add to man s heritage of truth. 
 It would be amusing, if it were not pathetic, to note how society 
 is ever overtaken with the ague of fear when a new truth dawns 
 on the world. To conservatism all innovations are unwelcome 
 intrusions; and usually, conventional thought .seeks, in whatever 
 way the spirit of the age approves, to destroy the influence of the 
 promoters of progress. It may be the stake, as in the case of 
 Bruno ; it may be the prison, as was the case in Galileo s time. 
 It may be social ostracism, as has characterized the treatment of 
 hundreds of the chosen spirits of a later day. In Darwin s 
 case, the Church sought to destroy his influence by fierce in 
 vectives, biting sarcasm and wholesale ridicule. Yet it must be 
 
Xtfe of Cbaries Darwin, 15 
 
 remembered that the thought was so bold and to the masses so 
 new, that it seemed to strike a deadly blow at the root of the 
 tree of revelation. The Church felt that if Darwin succeeded, 
 religion must fall. Thus, instead of inquiring whether or not the 
 theory advanced was true, the clergy felt called upon to proceed 
 after the manner of the Irish community, which inquired into 
 the facts relating to the prisoner s guilt after they had hanged 
 the accused. To all this calumny and misrepresentation, Charles 
 Darwin, be it said to his honor, never wasted a precious moment 
 in useless controversy. Grandly he stood, a colossus, enveloped 
 by the abuse of ignorance and bigotry, serene in the conviction 
 that he held the thread of a great truth which mankind must 
 in the fulness of time accept. The more men misrepresented 
 and abused, the harder he worked to prove his position by incon 
 trovertible facts and practical demonstrations. " The Origin of 
 Species " was an epoch-marking book. During the intervening 
 years between its publication in 1859 and the publication of his 
 other masterpiece, "The Descent of Man," in 1871, Mr. Darwin 
 made a number of important contributions to scientific literature. 
 " The Descent of Man," however, to a certain extent, aroused 
 anew the battle of 1859. During these years the theory of 
 evolution had rapidly grown in favor among thoughtful people; 
 in 1871 it was clearly evident that the trend of the best thought 
 had set in Darwin ward ; and though from the date of this last 
 great work until his death, eleven years later, he added materially 
 to the rich store of facts he had given the world, it is by the 
 "Origin" and "Descent" that Darwin will live throughout suc 
 ceeding ages. These noble works were the breastworks around 
 which the fiercest intellectual battle of modern times was fought; 
 but the noble, patient and persevering laborer had the splendid 
 satisfaction of living to see the breastworks not only remain 
 impregnable, but the surrender of a vast majority of competent 
 scientists of the day. Two years before Darwin s death, Pro 
 fessor Huxley delivered his famous address on " The Coming 
 Age of the Origin of Species." Of this notable utterance Mr. 
 Grant Allen fittingly observes : 
 
 The time was a favorable one for reviewing the silent and almost 
 unobserved progress of a great revolution. Twenty-one years had come 
 and gone since the father of modern scientific evolutionism had launched 
 upon the world his tentative work. In those twenty-one years the 
 thought of humanity had been twisted around as upon some invisible 
 pivot, and a new heaven and a new earth had been presented to the eyes 
 of seers and thinkers. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Unfortunately, the private life of many of the world s greatest 
 thinkers will not bear close scrutiny ; indeed, the possession of a 
 brain capable of marvellous penetration and dazzling intellectual 
 
16 persons, places anfc H&eas, 
 
 flights has so frequently been marred by the presence of an 
 unbalanced condition in other directions, that the very word 
 " genius " has come to suggest to some close thinkers the presence 
 of insanity. Often men of the largest brains have displayed the 
 smallest natures. An almost godlike power of intuition, and 
 the eagle wings of genius have so frequently been chained to 
 jealousy, personal ambition, indifference to others, immorality, 
 and an offensive self-worship, that the biographer has touched 
 upon the character and home life of his subject with feelings of 
 keenest sadness. Not so with the writer who deals with the life 
 of Charles Darwin, as the power of his wonderful mind was only 
 second to the charm of his noble personality. lie was the most 
 unselfish and sincere of men; a stranger to that personal ambi 
 tion which ruthlessly treads upon the happiness and the merit of 
 others; devoid of all traces of jealousy; diffident, indeed, as I 
 have before observed, his diffidence was so marked that it is not 
 improbable that the world would never have received his best 
 thought had not Lamarck and other great thinkers blazed the 
 way before him. I know of no life where the supreme mastery 
 of self was more strikingly illustrated than in the career of Dar 
 win after he entered the portals of manhood. In writing of him 
 in after years, Sir James Sullivan, who sailed on the Beagle, 
 observed: "I can confidently express my belief that during five 
 years on the Beagle he was never known to be out of temper, or 
 to say one unkind or harsh word of or to any one." The mar 
 vellous command which Darwin at this early date had over his 
 temper will be better appreciated if we remember that during 
 this voyage the young philosopher was constantly seasick. In 
 after years this wonderful control of his lower self grew more 
 and more complete. He had an iron will, but it was used in sub 
 jugating all that was unworthy of the noblest manhood in his 
 nature. Darwin loved his home passionately, and naught but 
 thirst for knowledge could have driven him forth on his long, 
 perilous voyage. In his letters we catch many delightful 
 glimpses of this strong, abiding home love, as, for example, the 
 following : 
 
 It is too delightful to think that I shall see the leaves fall and hear 
 the robins sing next autumn at Shrewsbury. My feelings are those of 
 a schoolboy to the smallest point; I doubt whether ever boy longed for 
 his holidays as much as I do to see you all again. I am at present, 
 although nearly half the world is between me and home, beginning to 
 arrange what I shall do, where I shall go during the first week. 
 
 His marriage to his cousin Emma Wedgwood, which occurred 
 in January, 1839, proved to be an exceptionally happy union; 
 each cherished pure, deep affection for the other, and in each 
 other s society they experienced their rarest happiness. Of their 
 married life Francis Darwin savs : 
 
3Life ot Cbarles 2>arwfn, 17 
 
 Of his married life I cannot speak, save in the briefest manner. In 
 his relationship towards my mother, his tender and sympathetic nature 
 was shown in its most beautiful aspect. In her presence he found his 
 happiness, and through her, his life which might have been overshad 
 owed by gloom became one of content and quiet gladness. 
 
 His deep love for his wife and children was very marked. 
 This tireless delver into the mysteries of life had a heart as ten 
 der as the most sensitive maiden. Seldom have I read any lines 
 more touchingly beautiful than the following, written when he 
 lost his little ten-year-old daughter : 
 
 From whatever point I look back at her, the main feature in her dis 
 position, which at once rises before me, is her buoyant joyousness, tem 
 pered by two other characteristics, namely, her sensitiveness, which 
 might easily have been overlooked by a stranger, and her strong affec 
 tion. It was delightful and cheerful to behold her. Her dear face now 
 rises before me, as she used to come running downstairs with a stolen 
 pinch of snuff for me, her whole form radiant with the pleasure of giv 
 ing pleasure. 
 
 Even when playing with her cousins, when her joyousness almost 
 passed into boisterousness, a single glance of my eye, not of displeasure 
 (for I thank God I hardly ever cast one on her), but of want of sym 
 pathy, would for some minutes alter her whole countenance. Her 
 whole mind was pure and transparent. One felt one knew her thor 
 oughly and could trust her. . . . She often used exaggerated lan 
 guage, and when I quizzed her by exaggerating what she had said, 
 how clearly can I now see the little toss of the head, and exclamation of 
 " Oh, papa, what a shame of you! " In the last short illness her conduct 
 in simple truth was angelic. She never once complained; never became 
 fretful; was ever considerate of others, and was thankful in the most 
 gentle, pathetic manner for everything done for her. When so exhausted 
 that she could hardly speak, she praised everything that was given her, 
 and said some tea was "beautifully good." When I gave her some 
 water she said, " I quite thank you," and these, I believe, were the last 
 precious words ever addressed by her dear lips to me. We have lost the 
 joy of the household and the solace of our old age. She must have 
 known how we loved her. Oh, that she could now know how deeply, 
 how tenderly, we do still and shall ever love her dear, joyous face! 
 Blessings on her ! 
 
 The great secret of Darwin s accomplishing such a vast amount 
 of work lay in the two words perseverance and order. He was 
 one of the most persistent of investigators. The suffering and 
 exhaustion incident to his painful and unremitting illness were 
 not considered by this tireless worker sufficient cause for rest. 
 Each day his apportioned work was prepared with clocklike regu 
 larity. Languages were exceedingly difficult for him to master ; 
 but in order to acquaint himself with the views of some great 
 German scientific thinkers, he mastered the language sufficiently 
 to read the works, although he always pronounced the words in 
 English. Another illustration of this same spirit of perseverance 
 is related in the following words by Admiral Stokes, who ac 
 companied Darwin on the Beagle: 
 
18 persons, places an& Ufceas* 
 
 We worked together for several years at the same table in the poop 
 cabin of the Beagle during her celebrated voyage, he with his micro 
 scope and myself at the charts. It was often a very lively end of the 
 little craft, and distressingly so to my old friend, who suffered greatly 
 from sea-sickness. After, perhaps, an hour s work he would say to me: 
 " Old fellow, I must take the horizontal for it," that being the best relief 
 position from ship motion; a stretch out on one side of the table for 
 some time would enable him to resume his labors for a while, when he 
 had again to lie down. 
 
 Such are a few interesting facts concerning this noble life. In 
 a brief pen picture of this character it is impossible to touch 
 even briefly upon the points of excellence in a life so rich in the 
 glory of developed manhood. 
 
 The death of Charles Darwin, which occurred on the 19th of 
 April, 1882, cast a gloom over the whole scientific world. The 
 boy who in 1831 seemed to possess so little, and of whom his 
 father entertained serious apprehension lest he should turn out a 
 worthless sporting character, had reached the foremost place in 
 the ranks of great scientists, even in the golden age of scientific 
 research. He was buried in Westminster near the tomb of Kew- 
 ton. Among his pall-bearers were his loved co-laborers, Wallace, 
 Huxley, Lubbock and Hooker. In closing this sketch I will 
 quote a paragraph from Mr. Allen s graphic summary of the 
 personal characteristics of the great man who in life was as 
 careless of his personal fame as he was devoted to the cause of 
 science: 
 
 Of Darwin s pure and exalted moral nature no Englishman of the 
 present generation can trust himself to speak with becoming modera 
 tion. His love of truth, his singleness of heart, his sincerity, his ear 
 nestness, his modesty, his candor, his absolute sinking of self and self 
 ishness these, indeed, are all conspicuous to every reader on the very 
 face of every word he ever printed. Like his works themselves, they 
 must long outlive him. But his sympathetic kindliness, his ready gen 
 erosity, the staunchness of his friendship, the width and depth and 
 breadth of his affections, the manner in which " he bore with those who 
 blamed him unjustly without blaming them in return," these things 
 can never so well be known to any other generation of men as to the 
 three generations who walked the world with him. Many even of those 
 who did not know him loved him like a father; to many who never saw 
 his face the hope of winning Charles Darwin s approbation and regard 
 was the highest incentive to thought and action. Towards younger men, 
 especially, his unremitting kindness was always most noteworthy; he 
 spoke and wrote to them, not like one of the masters in Israel, but like 
 a fellow-worker and seeker after truth, interested in their interests, 
 pleased at their successes, sympathetic with their failures, gentle to 
 their mistakes. . . . He had the sympathetic receptivity of all truly 
 great minds, and when he died thousands upon thousands who had 
 never beheld his serene features and his fatherly eyes felt they had lost, 
 indeed, a personal friend. Greatness is not always joined with gentle 
 ness; in Charles Darwin s case, by universal consent of all who knew 
 him, "an intellect which had no superior" was wedded to "a character 
 even nobler than the intellect." 
 
Hn Idealistic Dreamer lUbo Sincjs in a 
 fIDinor Ikep, 
 
 BEYOND and above the severely utilitarian spirit which 
 enters so largely into life to-day, tiring millions of brains 
 with an all-consuming passion for wealth, rises a far-reaching 
 and overmastering thought which is at once speculative 
 and progressive. A great unrest has taken possession of the 
 thinking world. A profound conviction that the advance 
 guird of civilization is fronting epoch-marking struggles is 
 daily gaining currency. Especially is this true in America, 
 wh-/e religious, ethical, educational, economic and political 
 problems are being subjected to the most unsparing critical 
 investigation. Thus it is by no means strange that idealistic 
 writers who flourish in the quiet breathing-spells of nations 
 find small favor in a period of unrest and conflict such as 
 the present. They are regarded as the allies of convention 
 alism ; and this, to a certain extent, is doubtless true. 
 
 The wonderful gio\vth of sentiment in favor of the robust 
 realism of Ibsen. Tolstoi, Ho wells and Garland is readily 
 accounted for when we remember that this new thought has 
 allied itself to the moral impulses of the day. It is a part 
 of the great protest of the hour. Its waves bear forward 
 great vital reforms which are thrilling every nerve and fibre 
 of the best i _ ive thought of the age. It speaks with 
 the authority of truth, albeit its visage is sombre, stern and 
 not infrequently repulsive. 
 
 The " Xew Learning." which in England rose to com 
 manding proportions during the latter part of the fifteenth 
 century, and flourished so luxuriantly in the early decades 
 of the sixteenth century, quickened the thought of the people, 
 and allied itself to reformative impulses, which prepared the 
 way for transforming Catholic England into a foremost Prot 
 estant nation. So to-day the growii:_ .rent of million* 
 of more or less thoughtful iias found expression in 
 the austere utterances of such writers as Tolstoi and Ibsen, 
 
 : 
 
20 persons, places ant) UDeas. 
 
 great, prophetic souls, who dare to speak the truth in the 
 teeth of conventional intellectual effeminacy, whose very 
 weakness and vice are emphasized by its affected morality. 
 
 The new thought has done more than sounded the note 
 of reform ; it has unmasked unjust conditions, and revealed 
 the parasites preying on the vitals of civilization. It has 
 boldly exhibited that moral energy and aggressiveness of 
 spirit which the coming conflict demands. It is iconoclastic, 
 a voice in the wilderness ; but its brow, if stern, bears the 
 majesty of reality. It does not palter Avith truth. Thus, in 
 the very nature of the case, the reformative thought of the 
 age is found massing under the banner of realism. In the 
 immediate future, therefore, realism will grow in popular 
 favor at least until great radical reforms have been ushered in. 
 
 Nevertheless, the human soul is ever haunted by the 
 ideal, even in moments of supreme tension, and when every 
 fibre is strained for action as stern and uncompromising 
 as warfare waged in olden times by austere puritanism. 
 Dreams of the past and visions of the morrow; love, aspira 
 tion, hope, the glory of the vanished past, the ideal of the 
 golden future; these pictures are ever present in the mind; 
 and for them the soul hungers, even after the marching 
 orders have been given, and the world s advance guard is 
 already in the thick of the combat for epoch-marking vic 
 tories such as from time to time show civilization s evolu 
 tionary steps. Thus the idealistic poet, even though regarded 
 by the new thought as somewhat of a Philistine, will ever 
 hold a seat in the holiest of holies of many human hearts ; 
 will ever be loved more or less alike by critic and artisan, 
 because the songs sung reflect the longing of man s inner 
 nature. 
 
 The writings of our idealists may, as the aggressive realist 
 asserts, act as moral anaesthetics at great crises in human 
 history, but they also afford a certain rest and food for even 
 those whose sympathies and work carry them, with irresistible 
 sway, into the ranks of the iconoclastic reformers. To me 
 nothing is more restful or satisfying, after a day of stern 
 battle, than an hour with the poet or dreamer who sees and 
 understands how to picture that which must ever be sacred 
 to the human heart. We all more or less resemble caged 
 birds who struggle for larger freedom and broader vision, and 
 at the present day the beating of wings is particularly active. 
 
Hn Ufcealistic IDreamer, 21 
 
 Recently, after a week of somewhat exhausting work, not 
 unmixed with canker-eating, petty aggravations, which in 
 themselves aie so insignificant, and yet in the aggregate are 
 so fatal to mental equipoise and spiritual harmony ; a week 
 in which almost every mail brought letters burdened with 
 the stories of struggles, disappointments, and trials, with 
 hopes deferred and aspirations unrealized (for an editor is 
 much like a clergyman : to him are confided the heartaches 
 and the puzzling problems of thousands of his constituency) ; 
 a week in which the cruel injustice of prevailing economical 
 conditions and the heartlessness of grasping wealth had been 
 peculiarly strongly impressed by visits to the wretched dens 
 of our slums, I sought rest in my library. Here I chanced 
 to take up Mrs. Moulton s charming volumes of idealistic 
 verses,* and from them I derived much of that subtle, 
 indefinable pleasure one feels who finds a shady retreat 
 in a garden of roses. It is not alone the beauty of the 
 flowers, the rich perfume floating 011 every breeze, or the 
 melody of the birds, but rather the sum of nature s prod 
 igality which satisfies the wearied soul. So in these charming 
 and unpretentious little fragments of verse, one feels the 
 mingled pleasure gained from pure, deep, poetic powers, 
 married to finished art, and voicing emotions common to all. 
 and held sacred wherever love refines aspiring souls. Few 
 writers in this sternly utilitarian age possess in so marked a 
 degree the rare power of penetrating the depths of the soul, 
 and calling forth half-forgotten dreams as Mrs. Moulton. 
 Her poems are simple, chaste, and for the most part pitched 
 in the minor key. A noble femininity pervades them, giving 
 rare delicacy of thought and expression. For example, note 
 the following exquisite conceit : 
 
 IF I COULD KEEP HER SO. 
 
 Just a little baby, lying in my arms, 
 Would that I could keep you with your baby charms; 
 Helpless, clinging fingers, dowiw, golden hair, 
 Where the sunshine lingers, caught from otherwhere; 
 Blue eyes asking questions, lips that cannot speak, 
 Roly-poly shoulders, dimple in your cheek. 
 Dainty little blossom in a world of woe, 
 Thus I fain would keep you, for I love you so. 
 
 *" Swallow Flights " and" In the Garden of Dreams." Two volumes of poetry by 
 Louise Chandler Moulton. Published by Roberts Brothers, Boston. 
 
22 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 Roguish little damsel, scarcely six years old, 
 Feet that never weary, hair of deeper gold; 
 Restless, busy fingers, all the time at play, 
 Tongue that never ceases talking all the day; 
 Blue eyes learning wonders of the world about, 
 Here you come to tell them, what an eager shout! 
 Winsome little damsel, all the neighbors know; 
 Thus I long to keep you, for I love you so. 
 
 Sober little schoolgirl, with your strap of books, 
 And such grave importance in your puzzled looks ; 
 Solving weary problems, poring over sums, 
 Yet with tooth for sponge cake and for sugar plums ; 
 Reading books of romance in your bed at night, 
 "Waking up to study with the morning light; 
 Anxious as to ribbons, deft to tie a bow, 
 Full of contradictions, I would keep you so. 
 
 Sweet and thoughtful maiden, sitting by my side, 
 All the world s before you, and tne world is wide. 
 Hearts are there for winning, hearts are there to break. 
 Has your own, shy maiden, just begun to wake ? 
 Is that rose of dawning glowing on your cheek 
 Telling us in blushes what you w r ill not speak ? 
 Shy and tender maiaen, I would fain forego 
 All the golden future, just to keep you so. 
 
 Ah! the listening angels saw that she was fair, 
 
 Ripe for rare unfolding in the upper air; 
 
 Now the rose of dawning turns to lily white, 
 
 And the close-shut eyelids veil the eyes from sight; 
 
 All the past I summon as I kiss her brow, 
 
 Babe, and child, and maiden, all are with me now. 
 
 Though my heart is breaking, yet God s love I know, 
 
 Safe among the angels, I would keep her so. 
 
 The intensity of emotion and power of antithesis in 
 thought rather than words, are strikingly illustrated in 
 
 THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 
 
 Not a hand has lifted the latchet 
 
 Since she went out of the door. 
 No footstep shall cross the threshold, 
 
 Since she can come in no more. 
 
 There is rust upon locks and hinges, 
 
 And mould and blight on the walls, 
 And silence faints in the chambers, 
 
 And darkness waits in the halls, 
 
Hn Idealistic Breamer, 23 
 
 Waits, as all things have waited, 
 
 Since she went, that day of spring, 
 Borne in her pallid splendor, 
 
 To dwell in the Court of the King, 
 
 "With lilies on brow and bosom, 
 
 With robes of silken sheen, 
 And her wonderful frozen beauty 
 
 The lilies and silk between. 
 
 Red roses she left behind her, 
 
 But they died long, long ago, 
 Twas the odorous ghost of a blossom 
 
 That seemed through the dusk to glow. 
 
 The garments she left, mock the shadows 
 
 With hints of womanly grace, 
 And her image swims in the mirror 
 
 That was so used to her face. 
 
 The birds make insolent music 
 
 Where the sunshine riots outside; 
 And the winds are merry and wanton 
 
 With the summer s pomp and pride. 
 
 But into this desolate mansion, 
 
 Where Love has closed the door, 
 Nor sunshine nor summer shall enter 
 
 Since she can come in no more. 
 
 This, to my mind, is one of the strongest poems written by 
 Mrs. Moulton. The power of imagination and the depth of 
 grief expressed suggest some of the weird verses of Edgar 
 Allan Poe. Mrs. Moulton is not a reformer ; the clashing of 
 battle, the marshalling of forces, the bugle s call to action, 
 appeal not to her. There is in her work little of that fervid 
 thought of the moral reformer which leaps forth at white 
 heat from so many of Whittier s verses. Her tastes lie in 
 the idealistic world, where her earnestness and sincerity are 
 almost as marked as her poetical power and artistic skill. 
 Possessing a profoundly religious nature, yet imbued with 
 the scientific spirit of the age, we find in her a woman in per 
 fect touch with the most spiritual element of the new thought. 
 The old-time fear does not terrify her, nor can she boast of the 
 blind, implicit faith which, strange tc say, rested serenely on 
 so many brows during the ages when it was the popular belief 
 that millions of God s children were doomed to everlasting 
 flames. She loves and questions, and is not this the spirit- 
 
^4 persons, places anfc Hfceas. 
 
 ual state of thousands of our best thinkers to-day ? Here is 
 a characteristic poem, which illustrates the attitude of our 
 author s mind : 
 
 LONG IS THE WAY. 
 
 Long is the way, O Lord ! 
 
 My steps are weak; 
 I listen for Thy word, 
 
 When wilt Thou speak ? 
 
 Must I still wander on 
 
 Mid noise and strife ; 
 Or go as Thou hast gone, 
 
 From life to life ? 
 
 Below I give two sonnets taken from a cluster of real 
 gems in " Swallow Flights " : 
 
 FIRST LOVE. 
 
 Time was you heard the music of a sigh, 
 
 And love awoke; and with it song was born, 
 Song, glad as young bird s carol in the morn, 
 
 And tender as the blue and brooding sky 
 
 When all the earth feels Spring s warm witchery, 
 And with fresh flowers her bosom doth adorn; 
 And lovers love, and cannot love forlorn, 
 
 Since love is of the gods, and may not die. 
 
 In after years may come some wildering light, 
 Some sweet delusion, followed for a space, 
 
 Such fitful firefiies flash athwart the night, 
 But fade before the shining of that face 
 
 Which shines upon you still in death s despite, 
 Whose steadfast beauty lights till death your days. 
 
 ONE DREAD. 
 
 No depth, dear love, for thee is too profound; 
 
 There is no farthest height thou mayst not dare, 
 
 Nor shall thy wings fail in the upper air. 
 In funeral robe and wreath my past lies bound; 
 No old-time voice assails me with its sound 
 
 When thine I hear; no former joy seems fair; 
 
 And now one only thing could bring despair, 
 One grief like compassing seas my life surround, 
 One only terror in my way be met, 
 
 One great eclipse change my glad day to night, 
 
 One phantom only, turn from red to white 
 The lips whereon thy lips have once been set : 
 
 Thou knowest well, dear Love, what that must be,. 
 
 The dread of some dark day unshared by thee. 
 
En Idealistic H>reamer. 25 
 
 All of Mrs. Moul ton s poems are pure and healthy in tone, 
 although she is more often sad than merry, and a spirit of 
 earnest inquiry as to the to-morrow of life pervades many ot 
 her best creations, reflecting, I imagine, the heart-hunger of 
 her nature, and, indeed, in this respect also the hunger of the 
 age. As a specimen of this tendency I quote the following 
 from her volume " In a Garden of Dreams." It is a beautiful 
 conceit, and represents a thought met with frequently in this 
 author s prose as well as poetry. 
 
 IIST A GARDEN. 
 
 Pale in the pallid moonlight, 
 
 "White as the rose on her breast, 
 She stood in the fair rose-garden, 
 
 With her shy young love confest. 
 
 The roses climbed to kiss her, 
 
 The violets, purple and sweet, 
 Breathed their despair in the fragrance 
 
 That bathed her beautiful feet. 
 
 She stood there, stately and slender, 
 
 Gold hair on her shoulders shed, 
 Clothed all in white, like the visions 
 
 When the living behold the dead. 
 
 There with her lover beside her, 
 
 With life and with love she thrilled. 
 What mattered the world s wide sorrow 
 
 To her, with her joy fulfilled? 
 
 Next year, in the fair rose-garden 
 
 He waited alone and dumb, 
 If, perchance, from the silent country. 
 
 The soul of the dead would come 
 
 To comfort the living and loving 
 
 With the ghost of a lost delight, 
 And thrill into quivering welcome 
 
 The desolate, brooding night. 
 
 Till softly a wind in the distance 
 
 Began to blow and blow; 
 The moon bent nearer and nearer. 
 
 And solemn, and sweet, and slow 
 
 Came a wonderful rapture of music 
 
 That turned to her voice at last; 
 Then a cold, soft touch on his forehead 
 
 Like the breath of the wind that passed; 
 
20 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 Like the breath of the wind she touched him. 
 
 Thin was the voice, and cold, 
 And something, that seemed like a shadow, 
 
 Slipped through his feverish hold. 
 
 But the voice had said, " I love you 
 
 With my first love and my last ; " 
 Then again that wonderful music, 
 
 And he knew that her soul had passed. 
 
 It is this anxious thought, this overmastering desire to 
 know what lies beyond the vale, springing from the union of 
 a strongly religious nature with a mind trained in the school 
 of modern scientific inquiry, which gives a certain sombre 
 cast to many of her poems. The interrogation point is often 
 felt if not seen. This spirit, however, is symptomatic of our 
 ao"e, for we are in a period of religious transition. The mists 
 which were a pillar of fire to our fathers are dissolving before 
 the purpling dawn, of a juster and nobler day than humanity 
 ha3 ever known. But as yet the morning has not advanced 
 far enough to give the people a clear vision of the path 
 way along which, with glad, exultant song, will journey the 
 children of to-morrow. At each new step in the world s 
 progress, humanity is depressed with the same all-pervading 
 doubt, the same uncertainty and fear. This is no less true 
 to-day than it has been in the past. History is replete with 
 striking illustrations of society convulsed with the ague of 
 fear, as from time to time great truths have been discovered 
 which ran counter to conservative thought ; and it is fair 
 to suppose that succeeding generations, viewing our present 
 conflict, will marvel that the lifeless shell of the old held in 
 thrall a single aspiring soul, or that we walked so lamely in 
 the glorious light of the new day, even as we wonder how a 
 world could be so blind as to refuse so long the splendid 
 visions of creation given by Copernicus and other torch 
 bearers of truth. 
 
1) Ja. A. Home, author of " Shoro Arro- 
 and creator of character of Uncle Nat. 
 
 (3) The quarrel in the lighthouse. Act III, 
 
 C2} Undo Xat and Helen. " ";Xo\v, no\v, that 
 ain t right." Art 1 
 
 (4) Uncle Xat in last act. 
 
or fllMrror, or tbc 2Mflerence Between 
 artificiality an> IDeritism on tbe Stage. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE theatre of recent years has been a mask rather than a 
 mirror; that is to say, it has been afflicted with the gangrene 
 of artificiality. At intervals some individual of transcen 
 dent genius has aroused the deeper feelings of the auditors by 
 the magic of his power; but for the most part the grave or 
 gay emotions have vanished from the brain of the listener 
 before the theatre door has been reached. In other words, 
 only the surface has been ruffled; the almost unfathomable 
 depths of the soul have not been stirred. The pictures and 
 voicings have lacked the true ring of life s verities in any 
 thing like a full or vital way. They have borne to the real 
 much the relationship of the speaking doll to the aspiration- 
 illumined soul; and this is one of the chief reasons why the 
 theatre has failed to wield a more decisive influence upon 
 public opinion. Only that which is true, only that which is 
 real, or, if ideal, is in perfect alignment with the eternal 
 verities as found in life, can produce a lasting impression on 
 the deeper emotions of humanity. 
 
 It is only fair to observe, however, that the drama has not 
 been the only sufferer from artificiality. Literature, religion 
 and art have come under the same baleful influence. The in 
 tellectual era which dawned during that period of marvellous 
 mental activity and growth we call the Renaissance, owed 
 as much to the shattering of ecclesiasticism and tradition 
 alism which had long enslaved the brain of western Europe, 
 as it did to the broader thoughts derived from Grecian art 
 and literature unfolded after the siege of Constantinople. 
 
 The new life and wealth of thought, imagination and 
 expression, which characterized the rise of Romanticism, led 
 by Victor Hugo in the present century, and which enriched 
 
persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 in such a marked degree the literature of France, was 
 valuable and vital in so far as it was a protest against the 
 bondage of ancient thought and hoary traditionalism which 
 produced successive generations of imitators, and which 
 prescribed arbitary rules as ultimates in art. 
 
 The power of the work of our modern school of veritists 
 or realists lies in its fidelity to life as it is ; and though I do 
 not think that Ibsen, Tolstoi, Ho we 11s, or Garland have 
 ascended the mountain quite far enough to sweep the whole 
 horizon, they are doing magnificent work, and work which 
 is vital because it is true.* 
 
 That which fails to comprehend the eternal verities which 
 make for civilization will fail to elevate or in any large way 
 ennoble humanity it matters not whether it be in the 
 drama, in popular education, in art, in literature or in religion. 
 That which is artificial, or if true is still encased in the 
 mummy clothes of traditionalism, will fail to touch the well- 
 springs of life. 
 
 Perhaps nowhere has the artificiality bred of imitation 
 been more pronounced than in the drama. The free lance 
 in theology, in literature, and art has ever had a far easier 
 patli to tread than the dramatists who disregarded the hard 
 and fast traditionalism of the stage. The great expense 
 incident to staging a play properly; the timidity of managers, 
 who are, as a rule, wedded to conservatism; the critics, whose 
 education has been entirely along the lines of the past, and 
 who, as a rule, are very jealous for the old traditions; and 
 lastly a public sentiment, which, when discriminating, is 
 usually prejudiced in the direction of conventionalism, render 
 
 * A friend of mine who heard a gifted lady read Ibsen s " Brand " some time since, 
 when the reading was finished, said : "1 felt like crying out, Stop! The piece pierced 
 my very soul. It was so painfully terrible. Why? Because Ibsen s characters are not 
 puppets, and the music of real human woe rang through this master poem." 
 
 I saw, some time ago, a letter called forth from a thoughtful person who had read 
 Mr. Garland s " Prairie Heroine " in THE AKEXA. This gentleman said : " I read this 
 sketch more than a week ago, and have been miserable ever since. I knew such things 
 existed, but I never felt what it meant before." That is exactly what true work does. 
 It compels the reader to feel as well as to accept in an intellectual way. Now when our 
 veritists appreciate that there is something needful beyond a statement of bald facts, 
 we shall have the real with all its vivid power, reinforced and vitalized by realistic or 
 truthful idealism. The time has passed when the builder is satisfied to lay the brick 
 and mortar without holding the image of the splendid structure in his brain, as is seen 
 by the hungry way in which the artisans gaze on the architect s plate of the finished 
 edifice. So the human soul to-day is not content with the truth as it is; the vivid por 
 trayal of the truth as it shall be must be given. This contains an inspiration no less 
 marked than the power of mere portrayal of facts in a vivid way. The man is more 
 than matter; beyond the flesh anu blood which remain when death supervenes, we 
 have that something illusive but very real, which thinks, aspires, hopes and loves; 
 true ideality bears much the same relation to realism that the brain or soul does to the 
 body. The trouble with the past has been that either the idealism given was false, or 
 was so divorced from its proper relation to the real as to act as an anaesthetic on the 
 people, and from this pseudo-idealism, religion, literature and the drama suffered. 
 
/Ifcasfe or /llMrror, 29 
 
 it well-nigh impossible to present a dramatic work which is 
 strongly unconventional. It is therefore far more than a 
 personal triumph when a dramatist succeeds in spite of these 
 obstacles. Especially is this the case when the produc 
 tion is artistic throughout; when it is free from all taint of 
 sensualism, or of all suggestions of an unhealthy character; 
 when the coarseness of the variety stage and the high sound 
 ing mock heroics for which the galleries are supposed to 
 yearn, are alike absent; and finally, when the subtle atmos 
 phere of the play is so charged with truth that, consciously 
 or unconsciously, every auditor receives a moral uplift when 
 witnessing the drama. We are only beginning to study 
 psychology in a scientific way, while for most investigators 
 the psychic realm is as yet an undiscovered country. Still 
 we are learning day by day to appreciate more and more the 
 subtle power of thought, and to understand that the sub-con 
 scious mind often takes cognizance of the soul of that with 
 which we come in contact when this vital essence entirely 
 escapes our more blunted conscious perceptions. We are 
 beginning to learn that every book, every sermon, every 
 drama, indeed every thought, which comes before our brain 
 in any real or vital AA^ay, elevates or lowers our moral being. 
 Many conventional dramas, in which virtue is rewarded and 
 vice punished, and which abound in high-sounding moral 
 platitudes, are distinctly immoral in their atmosphere; for 
 when not artificial and untrue, they are vicious in situation 
 or suggestion. 
 
 II. 
 
 A play reflecting nature in a real and wholesome manner 
 was enacted during the most of the past winter. I refer 
 to Mr. James A. Herne s New England comedy-drama, 
 " Shore Acres," which recently won such a signal success in 
 Boston. The cordial reception given this play calls for more 
 than a passing notice, because its successful presentation was 
 a victory of far-reaching significance for the drama. It 
 demonstrated the falsity of certain claims which have long 
 fettered dramatic progress and prevented the stage from 
 wielding a decisively educational influence which might 
 have been exerted, had the drama been loyal to truth rather 
 than the slave of traditionalism. 
 
 " Shore Acres " was placed upon the stage of the Boston 
 
30 persons, places aufc Ufceas. 
 
 Museum the middle of last February, and scored an instan 
 taneous and unqualified success. Its popularity, however, 
 steadily grew as the season advanced. From the middle 
 of February to the end of the dramatic season it was 
 enacted before full houses. For months, immense audiences 
 laughed and wept over- this truthful reflection of humble 
 New England life, with its hppes and fears, its aspirations and 
 prejudices, its love and jealousies, its sunny surface joy and 
 its deep, flowing content. For one hundred and thirteen 
 performances the old historic theatre was thronged by the 
 most thoughtful and sincere people of Boston ; and what 
 was peculiarly significant, the closing performances, enacted 
 the last week in May, when actors usually play to empty 
 benches, were given before crowded houses. 
 
 Had the play been simply a clever conventional drama, 
 the success would merely have been a marked tribute to the 
 genius and ability of Mr. Herne, in his double role of dram 
 atist and actor ; but the far wider significance of the triumph 
 will be readily appreciated when we remember that " Shore 
 Acres " is a radically unconventional drama, which boldly 
 ignores many of the most cherished traditions of the con 
 ventional stage, and radiates an atmosphere charged with 
 truth and rendered luminous, not by the fire-fly glow of 
 empty words, but by the divine radiance of noble deeds shin 
 ing through simple, humble lives ; and, moreover, it is a 
 play without a plot or a villain, dealing entirely with the 
 lowly ones of earth merely a section, as it were, taken 
 from the every-day life of some poor farmers and fisheimen 
 living on the coast of Maine. 
 
 It has been claimed that no play w hich dealt with 
 humble life, which ignored plot and excluded the vulgarities 
 of the variety stage and the cheap jokes and claptrap of 
 the minstrel and melodrama could succeed. The success of 
 " Shore Acres " completely refutes this calumny against a 
 theatre-going public; while those who have persistently 
 asserted that in order to satisfy public taste, plotless and 
 villainless dramas which make no illegitimate bids for the 
 applause of the gallery, must be relieved by gorgeous stage 
 setting and fashionable dressing in which rich gowns cut 
 perilously low in front, and ridiculously long behind, make 
 up for what is wanting in other artificial features, have been 
 shown that beyond the tricks of conventionalism, beyond the 
 
/Ifcasfc or /IDirror. 3i 
 
 devices of artificiality, rises ART, which, when true, appeals to 
 something deeper and finer than the surface whims of human 
 ity, and which, even when she concerns herself with the 
 humblest life, provided she is true in her delineations, proves 
 absorbingly fascinating to all those in whom the current of 
 human emotions Hows in tha deep nature-ordained channels, 
 instead of over the shallow crust of conventionality. 
 
 It was not to be expected that " Shore Acres " would please 
 the froth or the dregs of society, for the denizens of these 
 strata, through education, environment and the atmosphere of 
 life, become unnatural; they live behind a mask, and to them 
 the mask is more engaging than the mirror. The erotic 
 atmosphere of a fashionable society drama, heavy with arti 
 ficial perfumes and shadowing forth luxurious ease, intrigue, 
 and the fever of a superficial existence; representing puppets 
 of passion, connoisseurs of wines-, and ornamented by inane 
 scions of foreign aristocracies, best satisfies the butterflies of 
 fashion ; while plays dealing with plot and passion, in 
 which villains are invincible until the final act is reached, 
 and where the young are nightly shown how safes are blown 
 open by professional burglars, and various other crimes are 
 committed with ease and dexterity, appeal to another class 
 whose point of view renders life s true visage as unreal as it 
 is to the flippant children of fashion s careless world. To 
 the dwellers in both of these social strata " Shore Acres " 
 failed to appeal ; while from the earnest,f eeling multitude who 
 ever recognize the voice of truth whenever spoken, and who 
 appreciate true art because their souls are sufficiently near 
 the pulsating breast of nature to recognize the face of truth, 
 it found a ready welcome. 
 
 I have known numbers of persons, artists, physicians and 
 scholars, who attended this play from six to eight times, 
 experiencing the keenest pleasure at each performance; such 
 is the virility of truth that one does not tire when looking 
 into her face. 
 
 "Shore Acres" opens in an idyllic manner.* It is haying 
 time in Maine ; the flowers are blooming around the old 
 
 * The realistic atmosphere of the play is indicated by an incident which occurred 
 one night when I was witnessing the performance. Behind me sat a lady and gentle 
 man who appeared to be greatly interested in the production ; the gentleman, however, 
 seemed much worried because, as he observed a number of times, he could not recol 
 lect any " Berry lighthouse" along that shore. To each of them, as apparently to the 
 vast audience, it was hisi-ory rather than fiction which was being unfolded. Many 
 illustrations of a similar character might be cited to emphasize the peculiar influence 
 which this play exerted in taking hold of the real self of the auditor. 
 
32 persons, places anfc 
 
 homestead of the Berry brothers, and in the distance we see 
 the ocean, and the deep blue sky flecked with clouds. At 
 some distance, on a reef which juts into the ocean, stands the 
 lighthouse, which is later the scene of a terrible struggle 
 between the brothers. In this first act the children making 
 their mud pies are deliciously natural, as is also Uncle Nat 
 when he gives them a wheelbarrow ride. Here we also see 
 the land boomer enter this idyllic garden, and poison the 
 mind of the owner of the farm by filling it with wild dreams 
 of wealth to be acquired without the earning. We note the 
 curse of American life speculation with its seductive 
 allurements, fastening itself upon Martin Berry, and hence 
 forth his peace of mind is gone. The scene between the 
 lovers in this act is also very charming, and seldom has any 
 thing appeared befoie the footlights so true to life as the 
 little pleasantry indulged in by old Joel Gates and the hired 
 men from the hayfield. It is a glint of sunshine before a 
 shadow which is to follow. This banter and sport, though 
 grim and savage, is one of those natural outgushings of farm 
 life which relieve the monotony of existence. The great 
 scene of this act is reached after the hands enter the house 
 for dinner, and Martin, the younger brother, informs Uncle 
 Nat of his wish to cut up the farm for town lots, because he 
 is sure a boom is coming. Here it is that we begin to see 
 the tremendous strength of Mr. Herne as an actor. There is 
 nothing loud, nothing boisterous, about the words and actions 
 of Uncle Nat. On the contrary, everything is exactly the 
 reverse ; but his Avonderful recital of their father s drown 
 ing, of their mother s year of waiting, of her death, and the 
 grave "out yander on the knoll," reveals consummate art, 
 and the reserve power which fascinates the auditor and wins 
 every true heart. But even here Mr. Herne does not reach 
 the climax of his portrayal ; it is not until Martin Berry dis 
 appears within the house, and Uncle Nat stands silently 
 twisting a cord, that one realizes how much, to use a paradox, 
 a real artist may say when he is silent. During these mo 
 ments Uncle Nat s face is a study for a psychologist; while 
 the emotions depicted call for no words, but tug at the heait- 
 strings of strong-framed men no less than sympathetic 
 women. 
 
 The second scene represents the interior of the house, and 
 the moving panorama is delightfully natural; but it is not 
 
or /llMrror. 33 
 
 until we reach the closing passages of this act that comedy 
 gives place to the full play of the strongest emotions known 
 to the human heart. As in life the gay and grave tread 
 continually upon each other s heels, so in this drama we 
 laugh and cry in almost the same breath. There is a wonder 
 ful mental study in the final scene of the second act, when 
 Uncle Nat, with unconscious skill, impresses his thoughts and 
 wishes on the tense brain of his niece, urging in a manner so 
 natural that the art conceals the art, for all save psycholo 
 gists who have made unconscious hypnotic suggestion a 
 study, and thus are enabled to appreciate the scientific accu 
 racy of Mr. Herne s work in this remarkable portrayal. 
 
 The third scene takes place in the lighthouse, and at the 
 close, through realistic stage effect, gives a vivid picture of 
 an ocean in a storm. This scene has been criticised by some 
 who imagine that simplicity excludes intensity, and who, 
 because the ocean is usually calm, would deny the legitimacy 
 of introducing the savage awfulness of the tempest without 
 and within. The scene in the lighthouse is as true as any 
 which precede or follow it. It pictures a supreme and terri 
 ble moment in life, and we catch a vivid glimpse of the incar 
 nate god grappling with the aroused savagery of the animal 
 unselfish love battling with a nature rendered insanely 
 blind through passion a scene which typifies the struggle 
 of the ages. The student of present-day events sees in it 
 a miniature representation of the conflict now raging, upon 
 whose issue hangs the civilization of the morrow. That no 
 such idea as this entered the brain of the dramatist, is highly 
 probable; for a genius continually reflects colossal thought 
 upon his canvas, and deals with types without knowing the 
 deeper significance of his own creation. There is nothing 
 in this great act which is untrue or overdrawn. It is the 
 embodiment of high art; and representing, as it does, the 
 emotional climax in the drama, it is not only perfectly legiti 
 mate, but without some such strong exhibition of human 
 emotion the play would have been artistically incomplete. 
 
 Great, however, as are the preceding scenes, for me, the 
 charm of the closing act eclipses all which has preceded it ; 
 for here the saint always visible in Uncle Nat shines out so 
 impressively that each auditor catches a glimpse of that love 
 which some day will redeem the world. Then, too, in this 
 last scene the artist s touch is everywhere visible. 
 
34 persons, places anfc 
 
 It is Christmas Eve, the children are undressed, and the 
 stockings are hung up. Bob is not the only boy who has 
 wished to hang up his trousers instead of his stocking, 
 under the vain delusion that quantity measures the pleasure 
 of life ; and Millie is not the first girl who has wished she 
 wore pants. The radiant eyes, the innocent prattle of the 
 expectant children; Millie s indignation at her older brother s 
 scepticism in regard to the existence of Santa Glaus ; the 
 sombre shadow cast by the sober, silent, and almost broken 
 hearted Martin; the absorption of little Nat and his mother 
 in the exciting novel ; then the home-coming of the loved 
 ones, the reconciliation and the saving of the farm, the 
 entrance of Joel Gates, and pathetic picture of little Mandy 
 all these and other scenes in this quickty moving pano 
 rama reveal behind the play a great artist and a true man. 
 It is not, however, until one by one the actors retire, leaving 
 Uncle Nat alone in the great farm kitchen, that one fully 
 appreciates the courage of Mr. Herne, in throwing to the 
 Avinds the traditions of the stage. Here, for ten minutes 
 before the curtain drops, not a word is spoken. Uncle Nat 
 is alone. He seats himself, and the auditors, in rapt atten 
 tion, follow the train of thought, as his face reflects emotions 
 which swell in his soul. The smile of the dear old face is 
 something never to be forgotten. During these moments 
 the audience becomes thoroughly fascinated by the wonder 
 ful play of human emotions ; and when at length he rises, 
 the spectators, as one person, regard him with breathless 
 interest, as he locks the doors, removes the teapot, places the 
 kettle on the back of the stove, raises the lid, and with candle 
 in hand ascends the old stairway as the clock strikes the 
 midnight hour. 
 
 This was the first dramatic performance I remember 
 witnessing, in which the closing minutes of the play were 
 not marred by vexatious noises incident to the departure of 
 auditors; but during the four times I saw " Shore Acres" 
 performed, the audience seemed rapt until Uncle Nat dis 
 appeared. It was one of the most remarkable illustrations 
 of the unconscious tribute paid by the people to the genius 
 of the artist and his fidelity to truth that I have ever seen, 
 and to students of psychology it Avas an interesting and valu 
 able study. 
 
or /llMrror. 35 
 
 ill. 
 
 And now a word in regard to the great creation of Uncle 
 Nathaniel. It has been urged by some zealous defenders of 
 realism, that in this masterpiece Mr. Herne has gone beyond 
 the limits of realism and if by this the critics mean that he 
 has idealized to a certain degree the grand old man whose 
 every smile reflects the divine ego which crouches, cowers or 
 rules in the brain of every human being, the observation is 
 just; but if, on the other hand, we are to infer that the 
 dramatist and artist has exceeded the bounds of the legit 
 imate by creating an impossible man, or a life impossible 
 in that station and with that environment, or that the 
 character is not in perfect alignment with the real, the 
 stricture is untrue. There is 110 character in " Shore Acres " 
 truer to life than this noble-hearted old New England light- 
 keeper, but he is colossal. I remember admiring the physical 
 perfection of the late Phillips Brooks some ten years ago. 
 He then seemed an almost perfect type of well-developed 
 manhood, so far as his bodily form was concerned; but stand 
 ing by an ordinary man his great proportions Avere at once 
 noticeable. Now this is precisely what we find in the 
 ethical portrayal in Uncle Nat. He is very real, perfectly 
 natural, profoundly true; but he is colossal, revealing most 
 vividly the possible saint in every man. 
 
 The popular or conventional pseudo-idealism of the past 
 has been essentially immoral because it has been untrue, 
 strained and unnatural; or when possible it has been so 
 divorced from the real as to carry little vital truth to the 
 brain of those to whom it has appealed. Realistic idealism,. 
 when hand in hand with veritism, gives to life a moral up 
 lift, subtle and illusive in character, but most potential for 
 lasting good. It is the soul of progress the inspiration of 
 noble endeavor the touch which floods the present with 
 light, and reveals the next upward step. 
 
 Realism is vitally important; she depicts life as it is to 
 day; she is true, impartial, and mercilessly candid. But vital 
 idealism complements realism; standing by her side, she radi 
 ates a light which is charged with vitality because it is 
 divine ; she is profoundly real and true ; her every act and 
 deed reflects more of the real soul than we have been accus 
 tomed to see ; if her face is luminous it is because the saint, 
 
36 persons, places anb Hfceas* 
 
 possible in every one, is here triumphant. The relation 
 between realism and vital idealism in the utilitarian economy 
 may be compared to two influences acting upon the inmates 
 of a building which is on fire. Realism sounds the alarm, 
 she describes the true condition; while idealism leads the 
 awakened victims from a death-trap to a place of safety. 
 
 I repeat, that in Uncle Nat we see exemplified the possible 
 saint in every life ; he is the embodiment of human love. 
 The affection for the old home, owing to its associations; the 
 tenderness shown for the memory of father and mother ; the 
 love for his younger brother, which led him to make the 
 supreme sacrifice of life, that his brother might be happy; 
 the wealth of affection for the children, which is in essence 
 parental love, and the broad, tolerant spirit evinced toward 
 the socially ostracized young doctor these are all phases of 
 the one supreme passion which illumines Avithout dazzling, 
 which warms but never scorches. In the degree in which 
 this full-orbed love is revealed, we gauge man s progress from 
 the animal to the divine. In Uncle Nathaniel, from his first 
 entrance to the drop of the curtain, there is nothing strained 
 or unnatural. Eveiy act, every utterance, is true to the finer 
 impulses of life; and every manifestation of the triumph of 
 love over selfishness has found its counterpart in millions 
 of lives. Not that all these manifestations are usually seen 
 in a single individual, for, as I have . observed, this creation 
 is colossal ; but it is also true, and being true, it carries 
 with it a vital and uplifting inspiration. 
 
poet of tbc people. 
 
 IN this chapter I wish to give a brief outline of the life 
 and work of the poet, composer, and singer, James G. Clark, 
 whose fine lyrical and reformative verses have been an inspira 
 tion to thousands of lives. 
 
 Mr. Clark was born in Constantia, N". Y., in 1830. His 
 father was a man of influence in his community, being recognized 
 as intelligent and honorable, and possessing that cool, dispassion 
 ate judgment which always commands respect. The mother gave 
 to her son his poetical gift and his intense love for humanity, 
 his all-absorbing devotion to justice and liberty, and a nature at 
 once refined yet brave. When but three years old, the little 
 poet had learned from his mother " The Star of Bethlehem," 
 sung to the air of " Bonny Doon," and could sing the entire piece 
 without missing a word or note. When twenty-one years of age 
 he was well known in his community as a concert singer of rare 
 ability. At this time Mr. Clark attracted the attention of Mr. 
 Ossian E. Dodge, who, in addition to publishing a literary jour 
 nal in Boston, had under his management the most popular con 
 cert quartette in New England. Mr. Dodge was a man of quick 
 perception ; he readily saw that the young poet and singer would 
 prove a valuable acquisition to his already famous troupe, and 
 promptly appointed him musical composer 1 for his company. 
 Into this work Mr. Clark threw all the enthusiasm of youth, com 
 posing such universally popular songs as " The Old Mountain 
 Tree," " The Rover s Grave," "Meet Me by the Running Brook," 
 and " The Rock of Liberty." " The Old Mountain Tree " was 
 for some time a reigning favorite through the land, it being sung 
 for months in theatres and concerts. At the Boston Museum, 
 then the leading theatre of Boston, it was no unusual thing for 
 it to be called for as many as three times in a single evening. 
 
 One day during this period of popularity, his mother, who was a 
 very religious woman, said to him, " James, why cannot you 
 write a hymn ? " He loved his mother devotedly. There was 
 between them more than the strong ties of mother and son. She 
 had fostered and encouraged his every poetical and musical aspi 
 ration, and it was his most earnest desire to gratify her wish, but 
 
 37 
 
38 persons, places anfc Ufceas, 
 
 thought along this line came slowly, and almost a year elapsed 
 before the young man placed a pencilled copy of his hymn, 
 " The Evergreen Mountains of Life," in his mother s hand. She 
 read it through silently, too much overcome to speak, while great 
 tears coursed down her wrinkled cheeks. At this period he 
 composed several songs and hymns which have been univer 
 sally popular, such as " Where the Hoses Never Wither," 
 " The Beautiful Hills," and The Isles of the By and By." Of 
 these poems Dr. A. P. Miller of San Francisco, himself a poet 
 of more than ordinary power and an admirable critic, writes : 
 " These songs have for thirty years been received by all classes 
 as forming a group of original and perfect lyrics adapted to every 
 platform and hall, whether sacred or secular. To say this," 
 continues Dr. Miller, " detracts nothing from his songs of love 
 and freedom. It is only saying that they are the St. Elias, the 
 Tacoma, the Hood, and the Shasta, which out-tower all other 
 song peaks and reach those heights where the sunshine is eternal 
 and the view universal." 
 
 It may be well to note at this time the singular fact that in his 
 poetical life Mr. Clark has appeared in three distinct roles, although 
 he has always been the poet of the people. During his youth 
 and early manhood the popular lyric and ballad claimed his 
 power. It was the work of this period which won for him the 
 name of the Tom Moore of America ; and had he not taken the 
 other upward steps, the appellation would not have been so pal 
 pably inadequate to describe the man who for thirty years has 
 been the poet of reform and the prophet of the new day. When 
 the sixties dawned, the first song epoch of his life was drawing 
 to a close, and the mutterings of the Rebellion were oppressing 
 age and stimulating youth throughout the North. Mr. Clark 
 had given his country a collection of songs and ballads destined 
 to live long after his body had returned to dust, and he had sung 
 his melody into the hearts of thousands who had listened to the 
 poet composer and singer with that rapt attention which is the 
 tribute of manhood and womanhood to genuine merit. The 
 clouds of rebellion were gathering around the horizon ; but ere 
 the shock of arms thrilled the nation, Mr. Clark was summoned 
 to the death bed of his mother. Sitting at her side as the spirit 
 was poising for flight, and catching inspiration from her words, 
 there came to him that exceedingly popular and touching poem, 
 " Leona," which was first published in the Home Journal of 
 New York, then edited by George Morris and N. P. Willis. 
 This poem, Mr. Morris afterwards declared, had been more 
 widely copied, admired, and committed to memory than any other 
 composition of its class ever published in America. As " Leona " 
 affords an admirable illustration of Mr. Clark s work at this time, 
 
H poet of tbe people* 39 
 
 and because it belongs to a class of poems always treasured by 
 the people, I will give several stanzas."* 
 
 Leona, the hour draws nigh 
 
 The hour we ve awaited so long, 
 For the angel to open a door through the sky, 
 That my spirit may break through its prison and try 
 
 Its voice in an infinite song. 
 
 Just now, as the slumbers of night 
 
 Came o er me with peace-giving breath, 
 The curtain, half lifted, revealed to my sight 
 Those windows which look on the kingdom of light 
 
 That borders the River of Death. 
 
 And a vision fell solemn and sweet, 
 
 Bringing gleams of a morning-lit land; 
 I saw the white shore which the pale waters beat, 
 And I heard the low lull as they broke at their feet 
 
 Who walk on the beautiful strand. 
 
 And I wondered why spirits should cling 
 
 To their clay with a struggle and sigh, 
 When life s purple autumn is better than spring, 
 And the soul flies away like a sparrow, to sing 
 
 In a climate where leaves never die. 
 
 Leona, come close to my bed, 
 
 And lay your dear hand on my brow ; 
 The same touch thrilled me in days that are fled, 
 And raised the lost roses of youth from the dead, 
 
 Can brighten the brief moments now. 
 
 We have loved from the cold world apart; 
 
 And your trust was too generous and true 
 For their hate to o erthrow; when the slanderer s dart 
 Was rankling deep in my desolate heart, 
 
 I was dearer than ever to you. 
 
 I thank the Great Father for this, 
 
 That our love is not lavished in vain; 
 Each germ, in the future, will blossom to bliss, 
 And the forms that we love, and the lips that we kiss, 
 
 Never shrink at the shadow of pain. 
 
 By the light of this faith am I taught 
 
 That death is but action begun; 
 
 In the strength of this hope I have struggled and fought 
 With the legions of wrong, till my armor has caught 
 
 The gleam of Eternity s sun. 
 
 Leona, look forth and behold : 
 
 From headland, from hillside, and deep, 
 The day king surrenders his banners of gold ; 
 The twilight advances through woodland and wold, 
 
 And the dews are beginning to weep. 
 
 * The selection from "Leona," " Fremont s Rattle Hymn," and " The Voice of the 
 People," as well as the poems " Minnie Minturn" and "The Infinite Mother," are from 
 Mr. Clark s volume " Poetry and Song." Published by D. Lothrop & Co., Boston, Mass. 
 
-40 persons, places anfc flfceas, 
 
 The moon s silver hair lies uncurled, 
 Down the broad-breasted mountains away ; 
 Ere sunset s red glories again shall be furled 
 On the w r alls of the west, o er the plains of the world, 
 I shall rise in a limitless day. 
 
 Oh, come not in tears to my tomb, 
 Nor plant with frail flowers the sod ; 
 There is rest among roses too sweet for its gloom, 
 And life where the lilies eternally bloom, 
 
 In the balm-breathing gardens of God. 
 
 II. 
 
 The divine afflatus which fills the poet brain, and weaves itself 
 into words which thrill and move the profound depths of human 
 emotions, was next manifested in Mr. Clark s soul-awakening 
 songs of freedom. The sweet ballads and lyrics of love and 
 home disappeared before stern Duty s voice. While Whittier, 
 Longfellow and Lowell were tiring the heart of New England, 
 Mr. Clark sent forth " Fremont s Battle Hymn," one of the most 
 noteworthy poems of war-times, and a song which produced great 
 enthusiasm wherever sung. Some idea of the influence which 
 these stirring lines produced on an already awakened conscience 
 may be imagined by perusal of the following lines : 
 
 Oh, spirits of Washington, Warren, and Wayne ! 
 
 Oh, shades of the heroes and patriots slain! 
 
 Come down from your mountains of emerald and gold, 
 
 And smile on the banner ye cherished of old; 
 
 Descend in your glorified ranks to the strife, 1 
 
 Like legions sent forth from the armies of life; 
 
 Let us feel your deep presence as waves feel the breeze 
 
 When white fleets like snowflakes are drowned in the seas. 
 
 As the red lightnings run on the black, jagged cloud, 
 Ere the thunder-king speaks from his wind-woven shroud, 
 So gleams the bright steel along valley and shore, 
 Ere the conflict shall startle the land with its roar; 
 As the veil which conceals the clear starlight is riven 
 When clouds strike together, by warring winds driven, 
 So the blood of the race imrst be~oft ered like rain, 
 Ere the starsnof our country are ransomed again. 
 
 The hounds of Oppression were howling the knell 
 
 Of martyrs and prophets at gibbet and cell, 
 
 While Mercy despaired of the blossoming years 
 
 When her harpstrings no more shall be rusted with tears; 
 
 But God never ceases to strike for the right, 
 
 And the ring of his anvil came down through the night, 
 
 Though the world was asleep and the Nation seemed dead, 
 
 And Truth into bondage by Error was led. 
 
H poet ot tbe people* 41 
 
 Will the banners of morn at your bidding be furled, 
 When the day-king arises to quicken the world ? 
 Can ye cool the fierce fires of his heat-throbbing breast, 
 Or turn him aside from his goal in the west ? 
 Ah! sons of the plains where the orange tree blooms, 
 Ye may come to our pine-covered mountains for tombs, 
 But the light ye would smother was kindled by One 
 Who gave to the universe planet and sun. 
 
 There is present in this poem much of the fire of the old 
 prophets of Israel, blended with that lofty faith in the power and 
 favor of God which gave peculiar force to many of the most 
 striking of Whittier s anti-slavery verses. 
 
 During the early days of the war the poet travelled from town 
 to town, singing the spirit of freedom into the hearts of the 
 people, and arousing to action scores and hundreds of persons in 
 every community visited, who had heretofore taken little interest 
 in the pending struggle. In this way he raised many thousands 
 of dollars for the Sanitary Commission and Soldiers Aid societies. 
 In addition to " Fremont s Battle Hymn," this period called from 
 his pen a number of war songs and poems, such as " Let Me Die 
 with My Face to the Foe," "When You and I Were Soldier 
 Boys," "The Children of the Battle-field," and "Minnie Minturn." 
 The history of this last-mentioned poem is peculiarly interesting, 
 and reveals the fact that at times coming events have been 
 flashed with singular vividness on the sensitive mind of our poet. 
 The pathetic facts connected with the poem are as follows : Mr. 
 Clark was visiting a family by the name of Minturn. In the 
 home circle was a young lady named Maria, who had a lover in 
 the army. One day Mr. Clark said, " If your name were Minnie, 
 it would make a musical combination for a poem." The young 
 lady blushed and replied that her friends often called her Minnie, 
 and doubtless at this moment her thoughts went out to the soldier 
 boy for whom she daily prayed. Some months passed, when one 
 night, while the poet was riding in a sleeping-car, the words of the 
 ballad "Minnie Minturn" forced themselves upon his brain, so 
 haunting his mind that he could get no sleep until he had trans 
 ferred them to paper. This was done by drawing aside the 
 curtain of his berth, and writing in the faint glimmer of the lamps, 
 which had been turned low for the night. It is probable that the 
 poet did not dream, as he pencilled the following lines, that he 
 was writing a prophecy which a year later was to become his 
 tory. Yet such was in fact the case. 
 
 Minnie Minturn, in the shadow 
 
 I have waited here alone, 
 
 On the battle s gory meadow, 
 
 Which the scythe of death has mown, 
 
 I have listened for your coming, 
 
 Till the dreary dawn of day, 
 
4-2 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 But 1 only hear the drumming, 
 As the armies march away. 
 
 Minnie, dear Minnie, 
 
 1 have heard the angel s warning, 
 I have seen the golden shore; 
 
 I will meet you in the morning 
 Where the shadows come no more 
 
 III. 
 
 We come now to the third epoch in the history of Mr. Clark s 
 poetry. The war was over. His thoughts turned to the toiling 
 millions of our land, for from early manhood his heart had 
 ever kept rhythmic pace with the hopes, aspirations, and sorrows 
 of the masses. Now, however, the ballad singer who in the 
 nation s crisis became the poet reformer, becomes the prophet 
 poet of the dawning day. And with advancing years came added 
 power; for it is a notable fact that with the silver of age has come 
 a depth of thought, coupled with strength and finish in style not 
 found in his earlier work. Take, for example, the following 
 stanzas from "A Vision of the Old and New." 
 
 Twas in the slumber of the night 
 
 That solemn time, that mystic state 
 When, from its loftiest signal height. 
 
 My soul o erlooked the realm of Fate, 
 And read the writing on the wall, 
 
 That prophesies of things to be, 
 And heard strange voices rise and fall 
 
 Like murmurs from a distant sea. 
 
 The world below me throbbed and rolled 
 
 In all its glory, pride, and shame, 
 Its lust for power, its greed for gold, 
 
 Its flitting lights that man calls fame, 
 And from their long and deep repose, 
 
 In memory and page sublime, 
 The ancient races round me rose 
 
 Like phantoms from the tombs of Time,, 
 
 I saw the Alpine torrents press 
 
 To Tiber with their snow-white foam, 
 And prowling in the wilderness 
 
 The wolf that suckled infant Home. 
 But wilder than the mountain flood 
 
 That plunged upon its downward way, 
 And fiercer than the she-wolf s brood, 
 
 The soul of man went forth to slay. 
 
 Kingdoms to quick existence sprang. 
 
 Each thirsting for another s gore, 
 The din of wars incessant rang, 
 
 And siirns of hate each forehead wore. 
 
H poet ot tbe people* 43 
 
 All nations bore the mark of Cain, 
 
 And only knew tlie law of might: 
 They lived and strove for selfish gain 
 
 And perished like the dreams of night. 
 
 ******** 
 
 I woke; and slept, and dreamed once more, 
 
 And from a continent s white crest, 
 I heard two oceans seethe and roar, 
 
 Along vast lands by nature blest: 
 All races mingled at my feet, 
 
 With noise and strange confusion rife, 
 And Old World projects incomplete 
 
 Seemed maddened with a new-found life. 
 
 The thirst for human blood had waned; 
 
 But boldly seated on the throne, 
 The grasping god of Mammon reigned, 
 
 And claimed Earth s product for his own. 
 He gathered all that toilers made, 
 
 To fill his vaults with wealth untold. 
 The sunlight, water, air, and shade 
 
 Paid tribute to his greed for gold. 
 
 He humbly paid his vows to God, 
 
 While agents gathered rents and dues, 
 He ruled the nation with a nod, 
 
 And bribed the pulpit with the pews; 
 Yet, over all the regal form 
 
 Of Freedom towered, unseen by him, 
 And eagles poised above the storm 
 
 That draped the far horizon s rim. 
 At length, the distant thunder spoke 
 
 In deep and threatening accents; then 
 The long roll of the earthquake woke 
 
 From sleep a hundred million men. 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 I woke: and slept and dreamed again: 
 
 A softened glory filled the air, 
 The morning flooded land and main, 
 
 And Peace was brooding everywhere ; 
 From sea to sea the song was known 
 
 That only God s own children know, 
 Whose notes, by angel voices sown, 
 
 Took root two thousand years ago. 
 
 No more the w r andering feet had need 
 
 Of priestly guides to Paradise, 
 And banished was the iron creed 
 
 That measured God by man s devise; 
 No more the high cathedral dome 
 
 Was reared to tell His honors by, 
 For Christ was throned in every home, 
 
 And shpne from every human eye. 
 
 No longer did the beast control 
 
 And make the spirit desolate; 
 No more the poor man s struggling soul 
 
 Sank down before the wheel of Fate : 
 
44 persons, places anb flfceas, 
 
 And pestilence could not draw near, 
 
 Nor war and crime be felt or seen 
 As flames, that lap the withered spear, 
 
 Expire before the living green. 
 
 And all of this shall come to pass 
 
 For God is Love, and Love shall reign, 
 Though nations iirst dissolve like grass 
 
 Before the fire that sweeps the plain; 
 And men shall cease to lift their gaze 
 
 To seek Him in the far-off blue, 
 But live the Truth their lips now praise 
 
 And in their lives His life renew. 
 
 This poem was founded on a vivid dream which came to the 
 poet and so impressed him that he found no peace until he com 
 mitted the verses to paper. In the following stanzas from the 
 " Voice of the People " we also find the clear note of the prophet. 
 
 Swing inward, O gates of the future ! 
 
 Swing outward, ye doors of the past! 
 For the soul of the people is moving 
 
 And rising from slumber at last; 
 The black forms of night are retreating, 
 
 The white peaks have signalled the day, 
 And Freedom her long roll is beating, 
 
 And calling her sons to the fray. 
 
 And woe to the rule that has plundered 
 
 And trod down the wounded and slain, 
 While the wars of the Old Time have thundered, 
 
 And men poured their life-tide in vain; 
 The day of its triumph is ending, 
 
 The evening draws near with its doom, 
 And the star of its strength is descending, 
 
 To sleep in dishonor and gloom. 
 
 The soil tells the same fruitful story, 
 
 The seasons their bounties display, 
 And the flowers lift their faces in glory 
 
 To catch the warm kisses of day; 
 While our fellows are treated as cattle 
 
 That are muzzled when treading the corn, 
 And millions sink down in life s battle 
 
 With a sigh for the day they were born. 
 
 Ah, woe to the robbers who gather 
 
 In fields where they never have sown, 
 Who have stolen the jewels from labor 
 
 And builded to Mammon a throne ; 
 For the snow-king, asleep by the fountains, 
 
 Shall wake in the summer s hot breath, 
 And descend in his rage from the mountains, 
 
 Bearing terror, destruction, and death. 
 
 For the Lord of the harvest hath said it, 
 
 Whose lips never uttered a lie, 
 And his prophets and poets have read it 
 
 In symbols of earth and of sky: 
 
H poet of tbe people, 45 
 
 That to him who has revelled in plunder 
 
 Till the angel of conscience is dumb, 
 The shock of the earthquake and thunder 
 
 And tempest and torrent shall come. 
 
 Swing inward, O gates of the future ! 
 
 Swing outward, ye doors of the past! 
 A giant is waking from slumber 
 
 And rending his fetters at last; 
 From the dust where his proud tyrants found him ; 
 
 Unhonored and scorned and betrayed, 
 lie shall rise with the sunlight around him, 
 
 And rule in the realm he has made. 
 
 The poet s loyalty to the toilers is voiced in most of his latest 
 poems and songs. " The People s Battle Hymn," * published last 
 autumn, was sung with great effect at the industrial gatherings 
 throughout the West. Of this song General J. B. Weaver, the 
 candidate of the People s Party for president in 1892, said: "It 
 is the song we have been waiting for. It is an Iliad of itself." 
 
 The following stanzas from this song will give an idea of the 
 exaltation of thought which, when accompanied by Mr. Clark s 
 soul-stirring music, arouses an almost indescribable enthusiam 
 among the people wherever it is sung : 
 
 There s a sound of swelling waters, there s a voice from out the blue. 
 
 Where the Master his arm is revealing, 
 Lo! the glory of the morning lights the forehead of the New, 
 
 And the towers of the Old Time are reeling. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Lift high the banner, break from the chain, 
 
 Wake from the thraldom of story; 
 Like the torrent to the river, the river to the main, 
 
 Forward to liberty and glory! 
 
 There is tramping in the cities where the people march along, 
 
 And the trumpet of Justice is calling; 
 There s a crashing of the helmet on the forehead of the Wrong, 
 
 And the battlements of Babylon are falling. 
 
 He shall gather in the homeless, he shall set the people free, 
 
 He shall w r alk hand in hand with the toiler, 
 He shall render back to labor, from the mountains to the sea, 
 
 The lands that are bound by the spoiler. 
 
 There is doubt within the temples where the gods are bought and sold, 
 
 They are leaving the false for the true way; 
 There s a cry of consternation where the idols made of gold 
 
 Are melting in the glance of the Xew Day. 
 
 O! the Master of the morning, how we waited for his light 
 In the old days of doubting and fearing! 
 
 "The People s Battle Hymn." Words and music by J. G. Clark. Published by 
 Oliver Ditson & Co., Boston, Mass. 
 
46 persons, places anfc flbeas, 
 
 How we watched among the shadows of the long and weary night 
 For his feet upon the mountains appearing. 
 
 Let the lightning tell the story to the sea s remotest bands, 
 
 Let the campfires of Freedom be flaming; 
 While the voices of the heavens join the chorus of the land, 
 
 Which the children of men are proclaiming. 
 
 In another recent poem, entitled " A Song for the Period," we 
 catch a glimpse of the deep sympathy ever felt by this poet for 
 the people. I have only space for two stanzas. 
 
 I cannot join with the old-time friends 
 
 In their merry games and sports 
 While the pleading wail of the poor ascends 
 
 To the Judge of the Upper Courts; 
 And I cannot sing the glad, free songs 
 
 That the world around me sings, 
 While my fellows move in cringing throngs 
 
 At the beck of the gilded kings. 
 
 The scales hang low from the open skies, 
 
 That have weighed them, one and all, 
 And the flery letters gleam and rise 
 
 O er the feast in the palace hall; 
 But my lighter lays shall slumber on 
 
 The boughs of the willow tree 
 Till the king is slain in Babylon, 
 
 And the captive hosts go free. 
 
 Mr. Clark was married early in life to a lady of his native 
 home. Three children came to bless this union. One, however, 
 was recalled by the infinite Father. In memory of this child the 
 stricken father composed a touching little gem entitled " Beauti 
 ful Annie." 
 
 .Mr. Clark is not only a poet, musical composer, and singer of 
 rare ability, he is a scholarly essayist, and, during recent years, has 
 contributed many papers of power and literary value to the lead 
 ing dailies of the Pacific coast. A fair specimen of his work in 
 this line will be found in the following criticism on Robert Burns, 
 which I take from a recent contribution to one of the most influ 
 ential dailies in Southern California. In speaking of Robert 
 Burns, Mr. Clark says : 
 
 True, he was not compelled to affect the peculiar dialect in which 
 was written his most characteristic and enduring verse, because it was 
 the dialect in which he was born and reared ; but, nevertheless, in and 
 through it he has made not only all Scotland love him as no other poet 
 is loved to-day, but he won the homage of lovers of humanity, democ 
 racy and religious freedom wherever the English language is spoken. 
 
 It was through his songs and poems, written in the homely Scotch 
 dialect of his times, that the common Scotch people became a nation of 
 poets. It was through Burns, who found poetry in the most common 
 and lowly objects, even the little "mouse," whose nest had been 
 
H poet ot tbe people* 47 
 
 wrecked by the poet s plow, that the most unlettered Scotchman dis 
 covered the poetry lying latent in his own heart and mind ; and at a period 
 when "poetic art," so called, was claimed as the exclusive inheritance 
 of the self-elected and cultured few, he restored to the uneducated 
 peasant and cotter his lawful birthright. 
 
 There is no such thing as estimating the extent to which the better 
 and higher qualities of Scotch character have been quickened, developed, 
 and refined through the lyrics of Robert Burns, more especially those 
 lyrics that appeal directly to the hearts and e very-day life of his country 
 men. This is why the true Scotchman, while admiring Scott, loves and 
 worships Burns. 
 
 The wealth of poetic imagery, strength and deep penetration 
 which characterizes the recent work of Mr. Clark is very notice 
 able in some of his later poems, and reaches altitudes of sublimity 
 in thought rare among modern poets. This characteristic is well 
 illustrated in " The Infinite Mother," which I give below. It is 
 considered by many critics as Mr. Clark s masterpiece. 
 
 THE INFINITE MOTHER. 
 
 I am mother of Life and companion of God ! 
 
 I move in each mote from the suns to the sod, 
 
 I brood in all darkness, I gleam in all light, 
 
 I fathom all depth, and I crown every hight; 
 
 Within me the globes of the universe roll, 
 
 And through me all matter takes impress and soul. 
 
 Without me all forms into chaos would fall ; 
 
 I was under, within, and around, over all, 
 
 Ere the stars of the morning in harmony sung, 
 
 Or the systems and suns from their grand arches swung. 
 
 I loved you, O earth! in those cycles profound, 
 
 When darkness unbroken encircled you round, 
 
 And the fruit of creation, the race of mankind, 
 
 Was only a dream in the Infinite Mind ; 
 
 I nursed you, O earth ! ere your oceans were born, 
 
 Or your mountains rejoiced in the gladness of morn, 
 
 When naked and helpless you came from the womb, 
 
 Ere the seasons had decked you with verdure and bloom 
 
 And all that appeared of your form or your face 
 
 Was a bare, lurid ball in the vast wilds of space. 
 
 When your bosom was shaken and rent with alarms 
 
 I calmed and caressed you to sleep in my arms. 
 
 I sung o er your pillow the song of the spheres 
 
 Till the hum of its melody softened your fenrs, 
 
 And the hot flames of passion burned low in your breast 
 
 As you lay on my heart like a maiden at rest; 
 
 When fevered, I cooled you with mist and with shower, 
 
 And kissed you with cloudlet and rainbow and tlower, 
 
 Till you woke in the heavens arrayed like a queen, 
 
 In garments of purple, of gold, and of green, 
 
 From fabrics of glory my fingers had spun 
 
 For the mother of nations and bride of the sun. 
 
48 Persons, places anfc flfceas, 
 
 There was love in your face, and your bosom rose fair, 
 And the scent of your lilies made fragrant the air, 
 And your blush in the glance of your lover was rare 
 As you waltzed in the light of his warm yellow hair, 
 Or lay in the haze of his tropical noons, 
 Or slept neath the gaze of the passionless moons: 
 And I stretched out my arms from the awful unknown, 
 AYhose channels are swept by my rivers alone, 
 And held you secure in your young mother days, 
 And sung to your offspring their lullaby lays, 
 While races and nations came forth from your breast, 
 Lived, struggled, and died, and returned to their rest. 
 
 All creatures conceived at the Fountain of Cause 
 
 Are born of my travail, controlled by my laws; 
 
 I throb in their veins and I breathe in their breath, 
 
 Combine them for effort, disperse them in death; 
 
 Xo form is too great or minute for my care, 
 
 No place so remote but my presence is there. 
 
 I bend in the grasses that whisper of spring, 
 
 I lean o er the spaces to hear the stars sing, 
 
 I laugh with the infant, I roar with the sea, 
 
 I roll in the thunder, I hum with the bee; 
 
 From the centre of suns to the flowers of the sod 
 
 I am shuttle and loom in the purpose of God, 
 
 The ladder of action ail spirit must climb 
 
 To the clear higlits of Love from the lowlands of Time. 
 
 Tis mine to protect you, fair bride of the sun, 
 
 Till the task of the bride and the bridegroom is done; 
 
 Till the roses that crown you shall wither away, 
 
 And the bloom on your beautiful cheek shall decay; 
 
 Till the soft golden locks of your lover turn gray, 
 
 And palsy shall fall on the pulses of Day ; 
 
 Till you cease to give birth to the children of men, 
 
 And your forms are absorbed in my currents again 
 
 But your sons and your daughters, unconquered by strife. 
 
 Shall rise on my pinions and bathe in my life 
 
 While the fierce glowing splendors of suns cease to burn, 
 
 And bright constellations to vapor return, 
 
 And new ones shall rise from the graves of the old, 
 
 Shine, fade, and dissolve like a tale that is told. 
 
 Like Victor Hugo, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Robert Browning, 
 and, indeed, a large proportion of the most profoundly spiritual 
 natures of the nineteenth century, Mr. Clark, while deeply relig 
 ious, is unfettered by creeds and untrammelled by dogmas. In 
 bold contrast to the narrow-minded religionists who, like the 
 Pharisees of Jesus time, worship the letter, which kills, and who 
 are to-day persecuting men for conscience sake, and seeking to 
 unite church and state, Mr. Clark s whole life has been a protest 
 against intolerance, persecution, and bigotry. Living in a purely 
 spiritual realm, HE LOVES, and that renders it impossible to cher 
 ish the spirit of bigotry and persecution manifested by the Ameri- 
 
H poet of tfte people* 49 
 
 can Sabbath Union and other persecuting and unchristian bodies, 
 whose leaders have never caught a glimpse of the real spirit or 
 character of Jesus. He is a follower of the great Xazarene in 
 the truest sense of the word, and thus cannot understand how 
 professed Christians can so prostitute religion and ignore their 
 Master s injunctions as to persecute their fellow-men for opin 
 ion s sake. On this and kindred subjects he has written very 
 thoughtfully and with great power. 
 
 The light of another world has already silvered and glorified 
 the brow of this poet of the dawn ; and as I have before observed, 
 with advancing years comes intellectual and spiritual strength 
 rather than a diminution of power. Such men as Mr. Clark 
 wield a subtle influence for good in the world. Their lives and 
 thoughts are alike an inspiration to thousands ; their names live 
 enshrined in the love of the earnest, toiling, struggling people 
 the nation s real nobility . 
 
after Siit\> |J?ear6, 
 
 The snow of age is on my head, 
 But eternal Spring is in iny heart. 
 
 Victor Hugo. 
 
 Of the many who enter life strong and enthusiastic in the 
 cause of justice and humanity, only a few persevere to the 
 end, without faltering-, if that end be deferred until the 
 snows of age crown the brow. Some centre their energies 
 on a single reform and battle unceasingly for the despised 
 cause, patiently and dauntlessly braving the contumely and 
 persecution of conventionalism. They are usually very 
 finely strung natures; indeed, I think the reformer who bat 
 tles for the weak and oppressed, is always almost super- 
 sensitive; hence, the abuse, the sneers and social ostracism 
 he is compelled to endure for the weak, ignorant, and 
 oppressed, whose cause he makes his own, cut into his 
 very soul in a manner little dreamed of by the careless 
 masses. At length*, however, the reform is accomplished; 
 the minority becomes the majority, and he who was 
 yesterday denounced as a shallow agitator, an insufferable 
 crank and a hysterical emotionalist is hailed as a prophet, 
 hero and sage by that same soulless and shallow conven 
 tionalism which scorned him so long as the cause for which 
 he battled was unpopular. 
 
 When this hour arises it carries perils with it for the 
 reformer; it is now so easy to rest on well-earned laurels 
 and enjoy the sweeter melodies of life. The cause is won 
 nay, not the cause, but one battle in the ceaseless warfare 
 by which man rises to nobler heights; but conventionalism 
 will have it that the cause is won. and often the reformer at 
 this point falls by the wayside, ceasing to be a reformer, 
 although he may continue to utter high, sweet, and noble 
 thoughts. The poet Whittier is an example of this class. 
 After the war the despised agitator who for so long had 
 suffered social ostracism, was welcomed into the arms of 
 the conventionalism which had endeavored to slay him. 
 All that was asked of him was that he would rest on his 
 laurels, in so far as aggressive reform work was concerned, 
 and turn his muse to greener and more restful pastures. 
 He naturally hated conflict and loved peace. He chose iho 
 velvet, grass-lined banks and rested by the wayside, while 
 Wendell Phillips from the cause of the oppressed black 
 
 50 
 
Hftcr Sirt\> ears. 5i 
 
 man turned to that of the enslaved white man and dealt 
 giant blows for freedom, justice and progress so long as 
 his silver-toned voice could utter a protest against inhuman 
 ity, injustice and oppression. 
 
 Another class of reformers becomes discouraged by the 
 ingratitude and ignorance of those they seek to aid. *Th<?y 
 find themselves misjudged, misrepresented and maligned 
 by the demagogues who. influenced by the capital of the 
 oppressors or consumed by love of self and petty jealousy, 
 discredit the high, pure unselfishness of single-hearted men 
 and women : and the latter too often, after being made the 
 target for those they would help, become discouraged and 
 h pse into silence: their voices like the powerful guns of 
 a battle ship are stilled, but the spiking is due to traitors on 
 board, rather than to the fire from the enemy. 
 
 Still another class who enter life strong, aggressive, 
 brave, and determined to consecrate their best energies 
 to the cause of human brotherhood, gradually fall under 
 the spell of conventionalism: the multitudinous disappoint 
 ments which beset their pathway slowly dampen the ardor 
 which impelled them onward. Hope, courage and deter 
 mination give way to a painful and oppressive pessimism. 
 The " Locksley Hall " of youth, which is the story of 
 strength, hope and determination, is changed into the 
 "Locksley Hall Sixty Years After." which is a tale of 
 despair. This is the saddest of all sights, save that of open 
 betrayal or treachery. 
 
 In broad contrast with those who aggressively enter the 
 warfare for eternal justice and human brotherhood, but 
 who becoming tired, disheartened or asphyxiated, fall by 
 the wayside, we find a few a chosen band of lofty spirits 
 who persevere in the cause until the nijrht comes upon them, 
 and they fall with their armor on. like Victor Hugo, who 
 was a conspicuous representative of this order of nature s 
 royalty. They can exclaim. "The winter is on our heads. 
 but eternal spring is in our hearts." They are prophets 
 ibey are more than prophets, for the prophet may only 
 discern the siinis of the times and point out the luminous 
 truth he beholds. They are warriors they are more than 
 warriors, for a warrior may fight for self or in an evil cam 
 They are heroes they are more than heroes, for th* hero 
 may win glorious victories but afterward rest on his laurels 
 amid The plaudits of an admiring world. They are the 
 vanTs of progress. The apostles of liirht. who think only of 
 serving the ra e. shedding forth The liirhT of justice, dis 
 pelling the darkness, and enabling the race to move forward, 
 
5-2 , persons, places anfc UDeas, 
 
 i^f- 
 
 Among those who belong to this select band of truly 
 royal souls, who are Poets of the people, William Morris, 
 Gerald Massey and our own James G. Clark are inspiring 
 figures which are still among us. Mr. Clark, like Whit- 
 tier, battled for the emancipation of the black man. 
 With pen and voice he performed valiant service for 
 the slaves, and when the clash of arms came, as poet, 
 composer and singer he became a threefold inspira 
 tion in the struggle for liberty and a broader justice. But 
 unlike Whittier, after the war was over this poet refused 
 to lay down his armor; he knew the victory was an incident 
 in the history of progress. The enfranchisement of the 
 negroes was not the only enfranchisement to be accom 
 plished; indeed, the black man had only been freed from one 
 form of slavery; he still remained ignorant, and his soul 
 had never been w T armed into life by justice and kindliness. 
 Moreover, the war, while it had broken the chains of chattel 
 slavery, had promoted special privileges, and led to the 
 enactment of class laws as gigantic in character as they 
 were multitudinous in number; these evils, tolerated at 
 first owing to the exigencies of the time, and because the 
 attention of statesmen and patriots was occupied with the 
 immediate life of the Union, carried with them a potential 
 serfdom more far-reaching and essentially tragic than the 
 slavery which had hitherto been recognized in the Xew 
 World. Far-seeing minds, when the stress of the war was 
 past, beheld in this growing conventionalism, fostered by 
 special privilege, a menace to the rights of individuals, 
 which threatened to make the republic what the patricians 
 through the power of wealth made of the ancient common 
 wealth of Rome the republican shell, under cover of which 
 the most hopeless oppression flourished. Against the 
 aggressiveness of wealth in the han-ds of shrewd, cunning 
 and soulless men and corporations Mr. Clark raised his 
 clarion voice, even more eloquent than in the old days when 
 he wrote, composed and sung for freedom and the Union 
 before the black man had been freed. It is difficult to con 
 ceive a picture more inspiring than this patriarch of Free 
 dom, whose brow is already lighted w 7 ith the dawn of 
 another life, fronting the morning with eyes of fire and 
 voice rich, full and clear, now persuasive, now imperious, 
 but never faltering, as he delivers the messages of eternal 
 truth, progress, and justice. 
 
 I know of no singer of our time to w T hom the following 
 w r ords, penned by James Russell Lowell in 1844 when writ 
 ing of Whittier, are so applicable as to the poet we are now 
 
Hfter Stitp Keats* 53 
 
 considering. By changing the word WMtticr to Mils poet 
 in the following we have a more graphic and concise char 
 acterization of James G. Clark than it w r ould be possible for 
 me to give : 
 
 "Tie has not put his talent out at profitable interest by cater 
 ing to the insolent and pharisaical self-esteem of the times, nor 
 has he hidden it in the damask of historical commonplaces, 
 or a philanthropy too universal to concern itself with par 
 ticular wrongs, the practical redressing of w r hich is all that 
 renders philanthropy of value. Most poets are content to 
 follow the spirit of their age as pigeons follow a leaking 
 grain cart, picking a kernel here and there out of the dry 
 dust of the past. Not so with [this poet]. From the heart 
 of the onset upon the serried mercenaries of every tyranny, 
 the chord of his iron-strung lyre clangs with a martial and 
 triumphant cheer." 
 
 Mr. Clark, like William Morris, Mr. Howells, and many 
 others of our finest contemporary thinkers, has become an 
 ardent social democrat. Perhaps he is not quite so extreme 
 in his views as the English poet, but I imagine he holds 
 opinions much the same as those entertained by Mr. 
 Howells, and he is even more aggressive than the Ameri 
 can novelist, which is saying much, when one considers Mr. 
 Howells fine and brave work of recent years, and especially 
 his bold satire on present-day injustice, in "A Traveller 
 from Altruria." 
 
 In the present paper I wish to group together a few poems 
 of humanity, written by Mr. Clark since he passed his 
 sixtieth mile-post. They are timely utterances, impressing 
 the great truth so nobly presented by Mazzini that "Life 
 is a mission," "Life is duty," and similarly expressed by 
 Victor Hugo when he declares that "Life is conscience." 
 
 Mr. Clark is one of the poets of the people, and he clothes 
 the eternal verities of which he speaks in simple and 
 effective imagery, sometimes turning to nature, sometimes 
 to the Bible, for his figures. Here is a really noble creation, 
 a poem w r ell worthy of living in the patriotic heart: 
 
 Freedom s Reveille. 
 
 The time has passed for idle rest: 
 
 Columbia, from your slumber rise! 
 Replace the shield upon your breast, 
 
 And cast the veil from off your eyes, 
 And view your torn and stricken fold 
 
 By prowlinjr wolves made desolate 
 Your honor sold for alien gold 
 
 By traitors in vour Halls of State. 
 
54 persons, places ant) UDeas 
 
 Our mothers wring their fettered hands; 
 
 Our sires fall fainting by the way; 
 The Lion robs them of their lauds, 
 
 The Eagle guards them to betray: 
 Shall they who kill through craft and greed 
 
 Receive a brand less black than Cain s? 
 Shall paid "procurers" of the deed 
 
 Stili revel in their Judas gains? 
 
 O daughter of that matchless Sire, 
 
 Whose valor made your name sublime, 
 Whose spirit, like a living fire, 
 
 Lights up the battlements of Time, 
 The World s sad Heart, with pleading moan, 
 
 Breaks at your feet as breaks the main 
 In ceaseless prayer from zone to zone 
 
 And shall it plead and break in vain ? 
 
 Fling off that golden garb of lace 
 
 That knaves have spun to mask your form, 
 And let the lightning from your face 
 
 Gleam out upon the gathering storm 
 That awful face who&e silent look 
 
 Swept o er the ancient thrones of kings, 
 And like the bolts of Sinai shook 
 
 The base of old established things. 
 
 The promise of an age to be 
 
 Has touched with gold the mountain mist, 
 Its white fleets plow the morning sea, 
 
 Its flags the Morning Star has kissed. 
 But still the martyred ones of yore 
 
 By tyrants to the scaffold led 
 Transfigured now, forevermore, 
 
 Gaze backward from the ages dead, 
 
 And ask: "How long, O Lord! how long 
 
 Shall creeds conceal God s human side, 
 And Christ the God be crowned in song 
 
 While Christ the man is crucified? 
 How long shall Mammon s tongue of fraud 
 
 At Freedom s Prophets wag in sport, 
 While chartered murder stalks abroad, 
 
 Approved by Senate, Church and Court?" 
 
 The strife shall not forever last 
 
 Twixt cunning Wrong and passive Truth 
 The blighting demon of the Past, 
 
 Chained to the beauteous form of Youth; 
 The Truth shall rise, its bonds shall break, 
 
 Its day with cloudless glory burn. 
 The Right with Might from slumber wake, 
 
 And the dead wrong to dust return. 
 
 The long night wanes; the stars wax dim; 
 
 The Young Day looks through bars of blood; 
 The air throbs with the breath of Him 
 
 Whose Pulse was in the Red-Sea flood; 
 
Hfter Silts ]l)ears. 
 
 And flanked by mountains, right and left, 
 The People stand a doubting horde 
 
 Before them heave the tides uncleft, 
 Behind them flashes Pharaoh s sword. 
 
 But lo! the living God controls, 
 
 And marks the bounds of slavery s night, 
 And speaks through all the dauntless souls 
 
 That live, or perish, for the right. 
 His face shall light the People still, 
 
 His Hand shall cut the tSea in twain, 
 And sky and wave and mountain thrill 
 
 To Miriam s triumphant strain. 
 
 Mr. Clark is a profoundly religious man, but he is singu 
 larly free from that dogmatism and creedal idolatry, that 
 narrow and fanatical bigotry and pharisaism which have 
 made the church odious to thousands of the finest, truest 
 and most religious natures of the century, and which have 
 led many of the noblest natures to turn from Christianity 
 as something hateful and repugnant to that which is truest 
 and most profoundly divine in man s nature. He is reli 
 gious, as Jesus was religious, w T hich is not saying that he 
 would be welcomed into fashionable conventional churches 
 to-day any more than Jesus in His time was welcomed 
 among the orthodox religionists of Judaism. 
 
 Here is a fine piece of work which might be termed 
 
 A Voice in the Night. 
 
 I have come, and the world shall be shaken 
 
 Like a reed at the touch of my rod, 
 And the kingdoms of Time shall awaken 
 
 To the voice and the summons of God; 
 No more through the din of the ages 
 
 Shall warnings and chidings divine, 
 From the lips of my prophets and sages, 
 
 Be trampled like pearls before swine. 
 
 Ye have stolen my lands and my cattle; 
 
 Ye have kept back from labor its meed; 
 Ye have challenged the outcasts to battle, 
 
 When they plead at your feet in their need; 
 And when clamors of hunger grew louder, 
 
 And the multitudes prayed to be fed, 
 Ye have answered with prisons or powder 
 
 The cries of your brothers for bread. 
 
 I turn from your altars and arches, 
 And the mocking of steeples and domes, 
 
 To join in the long, weary marches 
 Of the ones ye have robbed of their homes; 
 
56 persons, places anfc flfceas, 
 
 I share in the sorrows and crosses 
 Of the naked, the hungry and cold, 
 
 And dearer to me are their losses 
 Than your gains and your idols of gold. 
 
 I will wither the might of the spoiler; 
 
 I will laugh at your dungeons and locks; 
 The tyrant shall yield to the toiler, 
 
 And your judges eat grass like the ox; 
 For the prayers of the poor have ascended 
 
 To be written in lightnings on high, 
 And the wails of your captives have blended 
 
 With the bolts that must leap from the sky. 
 
 The thrones of your kings shall be shattered 
 
 And the prisoner and serf shall go free; 
 I will harvest from seed that I scattered 
 
 On the borders of blue Galilee; 
 For I come not alone, and a stranger 
 
 Lo! my reapers will sing through the night 
 Till the star that stood over the manger 
 
 Shall cover the world with its light. 
 
 In the following we have a prophetic picture, and with 
 the insight of a true prophet Mr. Clark shows that the dan 
 ger of bloodshed and ruin does not lie where the paid hire 
 lings of plutocracy are ever seeking through the capitalistic 
 press to make the masses think danger lies; the supreme 
 menace of liberty no less than of justice lies primarily where 
 Mr. Clark points it out in the citadel of lawless and con 
 scienceless wealth. 
 
 The Fall of New Babylon. 
 
 "Be still, and know that T am God!" 
 
 This message fell distinct and low 
 While wealth, with steel and iron shod, 
 
 Crushed out the cries of want and woe; 
 And from the scourged and bleeding throng, 
 
 As if to the end the age-long tryst, 
 With eyes rebuking gilded Wrong. 
 
 Shone forth the wondrous face of Christ. 
 
 Man heeded neither voice nor look 
 
 For Mammon s vampires asked for blood 
 And what were signs and omens took 
 
 The forms of conflict, flame and flood: 
 The tempest down the mountains whHed; 
 
 The lightnings danced among the crags; 
 And far below the breakers curled 
 
 And raised on high their battle-flags. 
 
Hfter Slits Keats, 57 
 
 The ocean s heart wih angry beats- 
 Swayed by the earthquake s fiery breath- 
 Uplifted cities, troops and fleets 
 
 And hurled them down to wreck and death; 
 Then rose the death-yell of the Old 
 The old, dark Age of ruthless gain, 
 Of crouching thieves and warriors bold 
 Who slew the just and robbed the slain. 
 
 For he who led the hordes of Night 
 
 The Monarchs of marauding bands- 
 Went down before the Sword of Light 
 
 That flashed upon the plundered lands; 
 And stretched upon his mighty bier, 
 
 With broken helmet on his head, 
 And hands still clutching brand and spear, 
 
 The King at last lay prone and dead. 
 
 The birds of conquest o er him swooped 
 
 In baffled rage and terror wild; 
 The silent Fates around him stooped 
 
 To deck with flowers their fallen child; 
 And where the powers of shore and wave 
 
 Together clashed in border wars, 
 With systems piled upon his grave, 
 
 They left the meteor-son of Mars. 
 
 The cruel rule of craft and pelf 
 
 Had vanished like a midnight pall; 
 The cold, hard motto, "Each for Self," 
 
 Had melted into "Each for All." 
 For every human ear and heart 
 
 Had heard the message, "Peace, be still!" 
 And sought through Freedom s highest art 
 
 For oneness with the Perfect Will. 
 
 The star of strife had ceased to reign, 
 
 And Venus woke with tender grace 
 Between the lids of sky and main 
 
 And smiled upon a nobler race; 
 And as a brute foregoes its prize 
 
 And cowers before the gaze of day, 
 With backward look from baleful eyes 
 
 The wolf of Usury slunk away. 
 
 From ocean rim to mountain height 
 
 All Nature sang of glad release; 
 The waters danced in wild delight 
 
 And waved a million flags of peace; 
 For he who held the world in thrall 
 
 Through greed and fraud and power of gold, 
 Had seen the "writing on the wall," 
 
 And died like Babylon s King of old. 
 
 When the wealth-producers of the nation learn that the 
 welfare of ail is more important than the selfish interests 
 
persons, places anfc H^eas. 
 
 of a few petty men who divide industry into warring 
 and by the aid of demagogues who secretly serve the gold 
 Iower. prevent the concerted action of all wealth-pro 
 ducers; when the toilers come to understand that if they 
 unite but one? and speak at the ballot-box, the power of 
 plutocracy will be broken and the dawn of a truer deaio*-- 
 racy than the world has ever known will become an accom 
 plished fact; when the breadwinners of earth realize that 
 the man who urges them not to actively enter poli 
 tics is in reality the most valiant voice that the despot 
 ism of avarice and greed can invoke, then we shall have 
 reached a point where the rule of the few will vanish and 
 the laws of equal justice will be felt throughout all the rami 
 fications of government. This is the supreme lesson for 
 labor to learn. Karl Marx appreciated it, and the most far- 
 seeing, single-hearted apostles of humanity since his day 
 have insisted upon it. Toilers everywhere, unite your 
 hope lies in union; know no creed, party, nation, or race. 
 Let humanity be your family, and justice your guiding star. 
 The motto of the American Railway Union breathes the 
 spirit of this new slogan, and Mr. Clark, quick to appreciate 
 its significance, penned these lines suggested by the motto 
 
 "All for One and Ome for AIL" 
 
 All for one and one for alL 
 
 With an endless sons: and sweep. 
 So the billows rise and fall 
 
 On the bosom of the deep: 
 Loader in their single speech. 
 
 More resistless as they roll. 
 Broader, higher in their reach 
 
 Ftr their union with the whole. 
 
 Wheeling systems sink and rise. 
 
 In one shoreless universe. 
 And forever down the skies 
 
 Myriad stars one hymn rehearse; 
 Countless worlds salme the son. 
 
 Planets to each other can. 
 Ases into cycles run. 
 
 AD for one and one for all. 
 
 Kissed by sunshine, dew and shower. 
 
 Leaping: rill and living sod. 
 Sea and mountain, tree and flower 
 
 Turn their faces up to God: 
 And one human Brotherhood. 
 
 Pulsing through a thousand lands, 
 Benches for one common pood 
 
 With its minion, million hands. 
 
Hfter Silts ]ears* 59 
 
 Through all warring seas of life 
 
 One vast current sunward rolls, 
 And within all outward strife, 
 
 One eternal Right controls, 
 Right, at whose divine command 
 
 Slaves go free and tyrants fall, 
 In the might of those who stand 
 
 All for one and one for all. 
 
 Legislation is very largely responsible for the multi-mill 
 ionaires of this republic, while special privileges of some 
 kind or another have in almost all instances with which I am 
 acquainted been the creators or the chief feeders of the 
 colossal fortunes in our midst. It would therefore seem 
 very clear that to minify the dangers which all thoughtful 
 people admit to-day threaten the republic through the influ 
 ence of plutocracy, it will be necessary to abolish special 
 privilege and class legislation. This, moreover, is 
 demanded by the quickened conscience of the times, because 
 it meets the requirements of justice. If government has any 
 legislative function it is to foster justice and extend as far as 
 possible the prosperity, happiness and advancement of all 
 the people, instead of lending its influence to a few in such 
 a manner as to enable them to enslave the man^. 
 
 Furthermore, if, as can be clearly demonstrated, the gov 
 ernment has by grants and privileges rendered possible the 
 acquiring of untold millions by a few of the people who have 
 been the beneficiaries of these privileges, it is not so absurd 
 or idiotic as the mouthpieces of the government-fostered 
 plutocracy w r ould have us believe, to insist that the power 
 which has heretofore been exerted by the government for 
 the aggrandizement and benefit of the few, be henceforth 
 exerted impartially toward all the citizens of the republic, 
 and that the enormous disparity of fortunes resulting from 
 iniquitous class legislation and partial and therefore 
 vicious governmental paternalism be in a measure righted 
 by a graduated income tax and a rigid inheritance tax; 
 these claims of industry are eminently just, and were it not 
 for the tremendous power already exerted by the usurer 
 class, they would scarcely be called in question; but the 
 gold of wealth is liberally expended to uphold the tyranny 
 of capitalism, and there always have been and doubtless 
 for many generations to come will be men who will act as 
 sophists in upholding injustice and befogging the minds of 
 people who have never learned to think independently; 
 hence the urgent need of the sincere and conscientious 
 prophets, poets and reformers. 
 
GO persons, places anfc fffceas* 
 
 The following poem of Mr. Clark will awaken tin echo in 
 thousands of the most earnest hearts of our land w r ho long 
 to join in the songs of the happy, but who hear so clearly 
 the cries of the victims under the wheels that their hearts 
 grow heavy and their voices fail to utter a sound in the 
 chorus of joy. 
 
 A Song of the Period. 
 
 "Oh! weave us a bright and cheerful rhyme, 
 
 Of our land where the fig tree grows, 
 And the air is sweet in the New-Year time 
 
 With the breath of the new-born rose." 
 This message fell while the engine roared 
 
 By the wharf at the city s feet 
 Where the white-winged birds of trade lay moored 
 
 In a vast, unnumbered fleet. 
 
 It filled my ears as we moved away, 
 
 And the iron wheels rolled on 
 From the noisy town and the sobbing bay 
 
 To the wilds of Oregon, 
 Where the mountain cloud and the mossy sod 
 
 Are kissed by the self -same rills, 
 And the torrents beat like the pulse of God 
 
 In the hearts of the ancient hills. 
 
 And I sung of the broad and generous fields 
 That were fresh with a promise rare; 
 
 Of the mother-breast that sweetly yields 
 All life to the people s prayer. 
 
 But my soul grew sad with a minor tone 
 From the souls of the outcast poor 
 
 Who begged for work and received a stone- 
 As they tramped o er the lonely moor. 
 
 Then T thought of the land whose faith was sealed 
 
 By the blood of the brave and great, 
 Of the strong, fierce bird and the starry shield 
 
 That guarded the halls of state; 
 But the Fagle watched o er the idle gold 
 
 That was heaped on the rich man s floor. 
 While the gaunt wolf leered at the toiler s fold 
 
 And howled by the poor man s door. 
 
 I cannot join the old-time friends 
 
 Tn their merry games and sports 
 While the pleading wail of the poor ascends 
 
 To the Judge of the Upper Courts; 
 And I cannot sing the glad, free songs 
 
 That the world around me sings 
 While my fellows move in cringing throngs 
 
 At the beck of the gilded kings. 
 
Hfter Siit )ears, ci 
 
 The scales hang low from the open skies 
 
 That have weighed them, one and all 
 And the fiery letters gleam and rise 
 
 O er the feast in the Palace Hall, 
 But my lighter lays shall slumber on 
 
 The boughs of the willow tree 
 Till the King is slain in Babylon, 
 
 And the captive hosts go free. 
 
 I will close this paper with one of the finest and noblest 
 poetic creations which our silver-headed prophet-poet of 
 the people has composed since he passed beyond his sixtieth 
 year. It is brave, bold and severe, as the articulate voice 
 of justice is wont to be, when confronting injustice, but 
 through it, as through all this poet s writings, we note the 
 presence of that abiding faith which is entertained by those 
 who believe, nay more, w r ho know that man is fronting the 
 dawn, and that eternal justice broods over the world. 
 
 Justice to "Liberty Enlightening tlic IVorld" 
 
 O Liberty! whose searching eyes 
 
 Are fixed upon the distant blue- 
 As if to pierce the veil that lies 
 
 Betwixt the Old World and the New 
 What seekest thou in other climes, 
 
 And isles that gem the salt sea foam? 
 What findest thou of woes and crimes 
 
 That dwell not in thy chosen home? 
 
 Child of the rainbow and the star, 
 
 Around whose path the whirlwind sings, 
 Recall thine eagles from afar 
 
 And answer to my questionings! 
 Call down thy colors from the clouds 
 
 And nail them o er the city marts, 
 And let thy beacon cheer the crowds 
 
 Of darkened lives and weary hearts. 
 
 "And what art thou? to question one 
 
 Whose impulse every bosom warms, 
 Whose eagles soar athwart the sun. 
 
 And rock their young upon the storms; 
 And who art thou? to ask me why 
 
 I stand upon the Now World strands 
 And bid my eagles outward fly 
 
 To probe the ills of other lands!" 
 
 Men call me "Love" when bonding down 
 
 I kiss the tears from sorrow s face, 
 And "Mercy" when I change the frown 
 
 Of judgment to a smile of grace; 
 They call me "Justice" when I shift 
 
 The weak man s burdens to the strong. 
 But "Vengeance" when my earthquakes lift 
 
 The tidal waves that drown the wrong. 
 
62 persons, places anfc flfceas< 
 
 I fix the headland bounds of Fate 
 
 Against which Error frets in Tain; 
 I watch by Truth s eternal gate, 
 
 And balance every loss and gain; 
 I hover o er the Lethean deep 
 
 Where Progress mourns her murdered braves, 
 I touch the waters where they sleep, 
 
 And lo! they wake from honored graves. 
 
 The empty boasts of power and pelf 
 
 Like fleeting vapors round me meet; 
 The star of destiny itself 
 
 Climbs from the throne to reach my feet; 
 The nations poise upon my scales 
 
 Like cloudlets on the midday air; 
 I stand erect where Empire fails, 
 
 And wait serene amidst despair. 
 
 "O! thou whose fire-winged word descends 
 
 Like lightning from unclouded zones 
 At whose decree oppression ends, 
 
 And despots tremble on their thrones 
 I bow to thy divining life 
 
 Which every perfect life fulfils: 
 My warring factions cease from strife, 
 
 My thunders die among the hills. 
 
 "Full well I know the deeds of shame 
 
 That nations in my name have done, 
 Whose record lingers on my fame 
 
 Like spots upon the morning sun; 
 But while my conquering legions stand 
 
 With sabres sheathed and banners furled, 
 Pray tell me of my chosen band 
 
 W r hose star and torch illume the world." 
 
 I see a land so broad and fair 
 
 So free from titled lords and kings 
 That all the tribes seek refuge there 
 
 As young birds seek the mother-wings; 
 The fig-tree, orange, grape, and palm 
 
 Grow wild upon her southern plains, 
 Where summer breezes drift in balm, 
 
 And blooms caress the winter rains. 
 The oceans of the east and west 
 
 Along her borders laugh and roar; 
 The mountains sleep upon her breast. 
 
 And vast lakes down her north lines pour. 
 
 I see a nation half in chains; 
 
 The mingled blood of all the earth 
 Is surging through her fevered veins. 
 
 And striving for a nobler birth; 
 The New World s warp, the Old World s web 
 
 In all her garments come and go, 
 While from her life the old taints ebb 
 
 And new ones rush with fiercer flow; 
 
Htter Silts Kears, 63 
 
 Her snowy sails, her keels and helms 
 
 Go forth with stores of fruit and bread 
 To all the kingdoms, climes, and realms 
 
 Where man is asking to be fed. 
 
 Her star-crowned head proclaims the light 
 
 That seers and poets long have sung, 
 Her feet and skirts are wrapped in night 
 
 Where Wrong is old and Hope is young; 
 No more the lion treads her coast 
 
 In war s red pomp and force arrayed; 
 He leads a far more cruel host 
 
 That plunders by the laws of trade. 
 
 Her soldier band, whose sabre stroke 
 
 Released from bonds four million lives, 
 Are burdened by a usurer s yoke 
 
 More galling than the black man s gyves; 
 Though gone the auction block of old, 
 
 The soul of slavery lingers still; 
 The chains are forged of power and gold 
 
 To bind the white serf s brain and will. 
 
 The poor man, robbed of lands he earned, 
 
 Goes wandering homeless o er the moor; 
 And eagles, into vultures turned, 
 
 Stand guard beside the rich man s door; 
 The masses move with fettered feet; 
 
 The classes feast on Labor s toil, 
 The eagles with the lions meet, 
 
 To gather and divide the spoil. 
 
 I am not blind; I see and feel, 
 
 While Mammon rules the broad domain, 
 And stretches forth his hand to steal 
 
 The garnered sheaves of ripened grain. 
 I am not deaf, I am not dead. 
 
 Though mercy groans in travail pain, 
 While chartered Murder rears its head, 
 
 And children wail for fathers slain. 
 
 No longer shall my arm be stayed, 
 
 No more my trumpet call retreat 
 When Truth, by lying lips betrayed, 
 
 Is dragged before the judgment seat; 
 The line is crossed, the doom draws nigh; 
 
 Lo! Justice wakes with lifted hand 
 To write her mandate in the sky, 
 
 And not upon the shifting sand. 
 
 "But Justice, listen; and behold; 
 
 My star upon the darkness gleams, 
 My upraised torch has not grown cold; 
 
 The world is moaning in her dreams; 
 In dreams of grander conflicts won. 
 
 She yearns for freedom, light and air; 
 And can the child of Washington 
 
 Be dumb to her unanswered prayer?" 
 
persons, places ano 11 Seas, 
 
 The ages cannot pause to wait 
 
 The counter-moves of Mammon s horde, 
 While Labor lingers at the gate 
 
 To beg the crumbs from Dives board; 
 The world shall onward, sunward swing 
 
 Till torch and star are merged in light, 
 And all the nations rise and sing 
 
 Their triumph o er the powers of night. 
 
 I see a mighty feast outspread, 
 
 Where gilded Lords their honors wear; 
 The banquet king sits at their head; 
 
 The guests are drunk on vintage rare; 
 And far below on every side, 
 
 No more by cringing fear subdued, 
 And murmuring like a rising tide, 
 
 I see the countless multitude. 
 
 As rivers to the ocean roll, 
 
 All tongues and races join the throng, 
 One purpose burning in each soul, 
 
 And on their lips a single song; 
 One common cause, one flag unfurled, 
 
 They kneel to neither king nor chni; 
 Their country is the round, wide world, 
 
 Their creed the brotherhood of man. 
 
 The feast goes on; the proud rejoice; 
 
 They hear a sound of distant waves; 
 They think it but the torrent s voice 
 
 Complaining through the highland caves; 
 It is ho mountain stream, that leaps 
 
 Rebellious from its rocky bands; 
 It is the lifting of the deeps, 
 
 The sinking of the ancient lands. 
 
 Resistless as the pulse of doom, 
 
 The ocean swings from shore to shore; 
 And frightened kings flit through the gloom, 
 
 Like stars that fall to rise no more. 
 The high sea-walls of caste are gone. 
 
 The pent-up floods their chains have burst, 
 The toilers face the golden dawn, 
 
 The first are last, the last are first. 
 
 The Old goes -down, the New ascends, 
 
 Its sunny isles in glory rise; 
 A rainbow o er the deluge bends, 
 
 And Labor s curse dissolves and dies; 
 The gods of gold no more hold sway, 
 
 The people bow to truth alone, 
 And He whose voice the tides obey 
 
 Remains forever with His own. 
 
H (Slimpse of an K> 
 IRoman Centre of Culture in (Sreat Britain. 
 
 Chester is unique among English cities. Much of its archi 
 tecture reminds one of continental Europe, contrasting in a 
 most striking manner with the prosaic modern buildings, while 
 the picturesque ruins of once massive Norman edifices attract 
 the eye and cause the mind to revert to that sturdy though 
 savage people who played so important a part in laying the 
 foundation for modern England s glory and supremacy. It is, 
 moreover, the only city in Great Britain where the traveller 
 finds preserved without a break or gap the ancient walls which 
 characterize the strongholds of mediaeval civilization. 
 
 Perhaps nothing will arrest the attention of the stranger at 
 first sight so much as the striking contrasts which meet his 
 view on every hand. Here the new jostles against the old. 
 One sees grim poverty, grime, and squalor, which is the shame 
 of modern civilization, almost under the shadow of that concen 
 trated wealth which is the pride and boast of shallow conven 
 tionalism; here tram-cars covered and bedecked with monstrous- 
 and unsightly advertising boards, which would amaze if they 
 did not chagrin the thrifty Yankee pill-maker and soap-manu 
 facturer, run close beside ancient buildings of curious archi 
 tecture and rich in historic interest; and here also one steps, 
 from the modern steam launches which ply the River Dee, and 
 in half a minute s walk finds himself under the ivy-tapestried 
 walls of the venerable ruins of the Church of St. John the Bap 
 tist, or beside the solid masonry of the ancient city walls. 
 
 But perhaps no one finds so much genuine interest in this, 
 quaint old town as the student of history, for the story of 
 Chester stretches back until it is lost in the mists of tradition, 
 and it has been the theatre of so many memorable struggles in 
 the history of England, that turn where you will, you sre ob- 
 
 65 
 
66 
 
 persons, places anfc Ufceas, 
 
 BISHOP LLOYD S HOUSE. SEE PAGE 79. 
 
 tre, in the marches of Englonde, 
 towards Wales, betwegne two 
 arms of the see, that bee named 
 Dee and Mersee. Thys cy te in 
 tyme of Britons, was hede and 
 chyefe cyte of all Venedocia, 
 that is, North Wales. Thys 
 cyte in Brytyshe spech bete 
 Carthleon, Chestre in Eng- 
 lyshe, and Cyte of Legyons 
 also. For there laye a wynter 
 the legyons that Julius Cezar 
 sent for to wyne Irlonde. And 
 after, Claudius Cezar sent le 
 gyons out of the cyte for to 
 wynn the Islands that be called 
 Orcades. Thys cyte hath 
 plente of lyve land, of corn, 
 
 jects which call up 
 the rude freedom of 
 the ancient Britons, 
 the refined luxury of 
 the long vanished 
 civilization of the 
 Roman era, or the 
 tempestuous strug 
 gles of the Middle 
 Ages. 
 
 According to tra 
 dition this city was a 
 place of importance 
 long before the Ro 
 mans made it one of 
 the strongest posts 
 in ancient Albion. 
 In the curious chro 
 nicles of the monk 
 Ranulph Higden, 
 published in 1495, 
 we find the following 
 allusion to Chester in 
 quaint old English 
 phraseology : 
 
 " The cyte of Le 
 gyons, that is Ches- 
 
 A ROMAN ALTAR FOUND IN EXCAVATION 
 IN CHESTER DURING PRESENT CENTURY. 
 
67 
 
 of flesh, and specy- 
 allyofsamon. Thys 
 cyte recey veth grate 
 marchandyse, and 
 sendeth out also. 
 Northumbres des 
 troyed this cyte 
 sometyme, but El- 
 fleda, Lady of Mer- 
 cia, bylded it again, 
 and made it mouch 
 more. 
 
 " In thys cyte ben 
 ways under erth, 
 with vowtes and 
 stone werke, won 
 derfully wrought, 
 three chambered 
 workes, grete stones 
 ingrave with old 
 mannes namesthere- 
 in. Thys is that 
 cyte that Ethel- 
 f rede, Kyng of Nor- 
 thumberlonde, des 
 troyed, and slonghe 
 there fast by nygh 
 two thousand monks 
 of the mynster of Banger. Thys is the cyte that Kyng Edgar 
 came to, some tyme, with seven Kyngs that were subject to 
 hym." 
 
 The tradition of this worthy monk, however, lacks historical 
 confirmation, and it is not until the Roman conquest that we 
 have authentic data regarding Chester. Some conception of 
 the size and importance of this place after the famous Twentieth 
 Legion had become well established on the Dee, may be gained 
 from the Roman ruins which excavations of the present century 
 have brought to light; among these are the ruins of a Roman 
 bath and forum and numerous excellently engraved altars, to 
 gether with fragments of architecture which speak of wealth, 
 refinement, and culture, surprising to contemplate when we re 
 member how remote was the wonderful little city from the great 
 pulsating heart of Rome. 
 
 History indicates that the dazzling spectacle of the southern 
 conquerors, their superior civilization and far-reaching knowl 
 edge, no less than the consideration accorded those of their 
 
 THE OLD STANLEY PALACE. SEE PAGE 79. 
 
69 
 
 conquered foes who cheerfully yielded to the foreign yoke, 
 together with the order established and justice meted out, cap 
 tivated many of the British chieftains, who made haste to form 
 as close an alliance as possible with their splendid conquerors, 
 adopting the Roman language, customs, and dress, and becom 
 ing practically the willing vassals of Roman authority. For 
 almost four centuries the eagles of the Empire were raised aloft 
 on British soil, and during this period the Romans on numer 
 ous occasions successfully repulsed the invasions of the fierce 
 northern tribes and in various ways protected the British, much 
 to their ultimate injury, as succeeding events proved, for the 
 British lost that magnificent independence, that sturdiness and 
 self-reliance, which had previously made it difficult for even the 
 trained legions of the Caesars to overcome them. They came to 
 lean as implicitly on the strong arm of their conquerors as our 
 slaves before the war were wont to look to their masters for 
 protection and direction. In a word, they exchanged their 
 old-time independent spirit for that of the child or the slave. 
 
 It is always perilous for an individual, a nation, or a race to 
 step at a single bound from a savage to a civilized condition ; 
 for the law of life is the law of growth, and until the ethical or 
 spiritual nature has been in a degree matured, those things which 
 come as fruits of evolutionary development are liable to prove of 
 irreparable injury; and this sudden transition on the part of the 
 Britons, lacking the element of gradual growth which gives 
 strength and permanency, offers a melancholy illustration of 
 this fact. They became enervated and gr &w to be servile imi 
 tators of their masters, and after the Romans left Britain his 
 tory indicates that Romano-Britons rapidly relapsed into semi- 
 barbarism without regaining their old-time daring or the 
 power of initiative and leadership. But we have been anticipat 
 ing events. 
 
 Returning to Chester we find that for more than three centuries 
 following the arrival of the Twentieth Legion the city grew in 
 size and importance, and had Rome remained healthy or even 
 continued to possess to a fair degree the vigor of early days, the 
 probabilities are that in time the whole of Great Britain would 
 have come under the rule of the amalgamated races and the 
 civilization of Albion would have suffered no eclipse. But fate 
 willed it otherwise, and at length the hour came when the can 
 cer of corruption which had long been eating into the vitals of 
 the mistress of the world wrought the ruin which generations 
 before had been foreseen and predicted by the noblest Roman 
 philosophers. In a fatal hour the mask of Mars and the mantle 
 of Jupiter fell, and lo ! instead of invincible power and incar 
 nate majesty, nothing remained but a decrepit, disease-eaten 
 
PHCENIX TOWER FROM THE CANAL. IT WAS FROM THIS TOWER THAT KING CHARLES 
 WITNESSED THE DEFEAT OF HIS FORCES AT ROWTON MOOR. 
 
71 
 
 form, incapable of self-government because wanting in moral 
 worth, courage and self-reliance, and necessitating the sum 
 moning of the Roman legions from remote quarters to Italian 
 soil. 
 
 It was a sad day for Britain when the last of the Romans 
 quitted her shores, for with the departure of the soldiers, the 
 flower of the young Romano-Britons also embarked in quest of 
 fame, glory and gold ; while the Picts and Scots immediately 
 began their incursions from the North. Very pitiful were the 
 petitions of the Britons for succor, but Rome was unable to 
 aid them longer, and the memorable plea entitled " The Groans 
 of the Britons" failed to bring any material aid from their old- 
 time conquerors. In their extremity the terrified and enervated 
 sons of Albion turned to the sturdy Jutes for help. The suc 
 cor was readily extended, the invaders were driven back, but 
 the allies were as much impressed with the rich heritage of 
 Roman civilization as they were struck with the effeminacy of 
 the Britons; they determined to become possessors of so goodly 
 a land, and brutal conflicts ensued which ended in Anglo-Saxon 
 supremacy. 
 
 Chester was one of the spots most coveted by the Teutonic 
 conquerors, but the Britons defended it with far more spirit 
 than was their wont. It was therefore the theatre for many 
 bloody conflicts, and in 607, when ^Ethelfrith marched upon 
 Chester, the Britons were defeated in one of the most desperate 
 engagements of this bloody period. The battle was fought a 
 short distance from the city and is memorable for the slaughter 
 of twelve hundred unarmed monks. The story of this massacre 
 is thus graphically described by the historian Green : 
 
 " Hard by the city two thousand monks were gathered in one 
 of those vast religious settlements which were characteristic of 
 Celtic Christianity, and after a three days fast a crowd of these 
 ascetics followed the British army to the field. ^Ethelfrith 
 watched the wild gestures of the monks as they stood apart from 
 the host with arms stretched in prayer, and bade his men slay 
 them in the coming fight. Bear they arms or no, said the 
 king, 4 they war against us when they cry against us to their 
 God ; and in the surprise and rout which followed the monks 
 were the first to fall." 
 
 Chester was one of the last strongholds of strategic and com 
 mercial importance to fall before the Saxon power, as at a later 
 day it was the last English city of consequence to bow to the 
 Norman conqueror. 
 
 The Saxons were not long permitted to enjoy in peace the land 
 that they had thus ruthlessly seized. The dauntless, strong- 
 limbed, red-haired Danes lighted upon England and swept the 
 
73 
 
 coast upon all sides. These children of Mars and Neptune, who 
 were characterized by their ferocity and fearlessness, took pos 
 session of Chester in the year 894. They, however, only held it 
 for a short time. In 907 Ethelred, Earl of Mercia, aided by his 
 illustrious wife Ethelfleda, 
 the daughter of Alfred the 
 Great, restored and so en 
 larged the walls of Chester 
 that they embraced the 
 castle which had hitherto 
 stood without the city. This 
 indicates that the castle was 
 a fortress of importance long 
 before the days of Earl Hugh 
 Lupus, who repaired and 
 added to it instead of build 
 ing it as some writers have 
 assumed. Ethelfleda was a 
 woman of great strength of 
 mind and executive ability, 
 and from the fragmentary 
 testimony of the ancient 
 chroniclers, who were ever 
 loath to exaggerate the 
 abilities of women, we are 
 led to believe that she in 
 herited many of the noble 
 qualities of her illustrious 
 father. It appears that, 
 largely from her influence, 
 the city regained some of its 
 old prestige, and it was not 
 until some time after her 
 death that it ceased for a 
 time to be a Saxon strong 
 hold. 
 
 In the early seventies of 
 the tenth century King 
 Edgar occupied the city of 
 Chester, and his fleet is said 
 to have filled the River 
 Dee. Edgar, it will be 
 
 remembered, was one of the most powerful of the Saxon 
 kings, even winning the title of " King of English and all 
 of the nations round about." According to a generally 
 accepted tradition eight British kings or chieftains came to 
 
 GOD S PROVIDENCE HOUSE. SEE PAGE 79. 
 
74 
 
 persons, places ant) Hfceas. 
 
 Chester to do him homage. During their stay they rowed 
 him on the River Dee. Edgar was small of stature, and 
 one night after this episode, and while the chieftains were still 
 at Edgar s court, one of their numbers, a Scotch king named 
 Kenneth, who had drunk somewhat deeply, exclaimed, " How is 
 it that all of us, so many kings as we are, should serve a king 
 who is smaller than any of us ? " This gossip was promptly 
 
 A PART OF THE R 
 
 carried to Edgar, who heard it in silence, but soon afterwards 
 requested Kenneth to accompany him to a forest near at hand. 
 Arriving, the king produced two swords, and handing them to 
 the Scottish chieftain said, " Choose whichever weapon you de 
 sire to use, and let us see which is the better man." Kenneth, 
 however, refused to fight, protesting that he spake only in jest 
 and because he was under the influence of wine. 
 
 After the Saxons were overpowered by the Normans, the 
 Conqueror created the earldom of Chester and gave it to his 
 
nephew Hugh Lupus, who repaired the castle and established a 
 court much after the manner of the petty kings of that 
 period. 
 
 Many indeed are the interesting happenings connected with 
 this quaint old place since the days when William the Conqueror 
 triumphantly entered her walls after his terrible march. But the 
 most memorable historic event connected with Chester did not 
 take place until long after the Normans and Saxons had amalga 
 mated and the modern English nation rose as the legitimate result 
 of this union. 
 
 When Charles the First and the English Parliament came to 
 a direct issue Chester ardently espoused the cause of the king, 
 and in the autumn of 1642 Charles was warmly welcomed 
 within the city walls. After his departure vigorous work was 
 at once inaugurated for offensive and defensive warfare. The 
 royal troops under the command of Sir Nicholas Byron were 
 loyally supported by the citizens. The walls were strengthened 
 and active preparations were begun, looking toward a possible 
 siege. In 1643 the city was fiercely assaulted by the Parliamen 
 tary army, but the result proved far more disastrous to the be 
 siegers than the besieged, and from this time until 1645 many 
 futile attempts were made to take the city by storm. On the 
 twenty-seventh of September King Charles, accompanied by his 
 guards, effected an entrance into Chester, where he was enthusi 
 astically received ; but on that same fateful day the king, accom 
 panied by the mayor and other notables, ascended the stairs to 
 the summit of what is now called Phoenix Tower, where they 
 witnessed the disastrous defeat of the royal forces under Sir 
 Marmaduke Langdale at Rowton Heath or Moor. The day fol 
 lowing this bitter disappointment the king succeeded in escaping 
 from the city. " If you do not receive relief within eight days 
 surrender the garrison," said the king to his faithful officer on 
 departing. Yet it was not until starvation drove the soldiers 
 and citizens to eat cats, dogs and horses that they entertained 
 the idea of submitting ; not until all hope of succor had van 
 ished not until they had received the tenth summons to sur 
 render, did the city yield. On the third of February, 1646, 
 Chester fell into the hands of the Parliamentary party. 
 
 The terrible sweating sickness on several occasions visited 
 this place, proving exceptionally fatal; and during the years 
 extending from 1602 to 1605 the plague also devastated the city 
 and region round about in a most appalling manner. So great 
 were the ravages that the fairs were suspended and the courts 
 were removed to other places. In those days the visitations 
 were thought to be punishments sent by God for the wickedness 
 of the city, but we of the present time would explain the cause 
 
79 
 
 somewhat differently. The ravages of the plague were evi 
 dently largely the result of the short-sightedness, the ignorance 
 and lack of cleanliness on the part of the citizens. Knowledge 
 and recognition of the laws of health and sanitation would have 
 greatly reduced its fatality. But man is slow to learn, and it is 
 only in the school of bitter experience that the most important 
 lessons are inculcated. So long as he insists on sitting in dark 
 ness, spurning reason, and revering superstition, he must neces 
 sarily suffer the consequences of his ignorance. 
 
 In the years 1647 and 1648 the plague visited Chester for the 
 last time, but during this period a fearful mortality marked its 
 presence. More than two thousand died between June and 
 April. In this connection I must refer to a quaint building 
 which is sure to be pointed out to the visitor. It was first built 
 in 1652, and has since been restored so as to represent exactly the 
 original building in all respects. It is called " God s Providence 
 House," and bears the inscription in bold letters across the main 
 beam, "God s providence is mine inheritance." The natural 
 supposition which first occurs to the visitor is that this ostenta 
 tious inscription was an outcropping of the canting pharisaism 
 which swept over England after the downfall of Charles I; but 
 any intimation of this nature is promptly repudiated by the 
 natives of Chester, who insist that this house was the only resi 
 dence on Watergate Street which escaped the ravages of the 
 plague during the years 1647 and 1648, and in gratitude for the 
 deliverance the owner placed the pious inscription across the 
 front of his home. 
 
 Speaking of this unique house reminds me of two other build 
 ings of a quasi public character which are of interest to visitors. 
 One is the old Stanley Mansion erected in 1591, which is the best 
 and oldest specimen of ancient timber houses in Chester. A 
 melancholy interest attaches to the history of this building, for it 
 was from it that the ill-starred Earl of Derby was led to his exe 
 cution at Bolton. The other house I have in mind is known as 
 the Bishop Lloyd Palace, which bears the date of 1615, and is 
 adorned with curious carvings representing a number of sub 
 jects which are supposed to be more or less pious, among which 
 maybe mentioned Adam and Eve in "sinless nudity," Cain 
 killing Abel, Abraham offering up Isaac, some New Testament 
 conceptions, together with the coat of arms of King James II 
 and that of the worthy bishop. 
 
 These places, however, though curious and worthy of atten 
 tion, are far less interesting than many of the more famous at 
 tractions of Chester, among which are the celebrated " Rows " 
 which are unique among shops, and about the origin of which 
 there has been no end of controversy. These Rows consist of 
 
so persons, places ant) flfceas. 
 
 covered galleries fronting shops, and extending from square to 
 square, often in tiers one above another. Many antiquarians 
 insist that they are a vestige of Roman civilization, and, as one 
 well known authority observes : " There are many circum 
 stances which seem to justify this view of the case, particularly 
 that of their resemblance to the porticos or vestibula spoken of 
 by Plautus and other Latin authors ; and a further point is ad 
 vanced as tending to confirm this opinion that there is, or 
 was, a street in old Rome which bore a close resemblance to 
 the Rows of Chester. Taking into account these points, to 
 gether with the fact that the remains of a Roman bath and 
 lavatory exist to the present under one of the Rows, the argu 
 ment in favor of Roman origin is certainly entitled to consid 
 eration." 
 
 But the Rows are merely one of many striking peculiarities 
 which engage the attention of visitors, and from this interesting 
 feature we turn to the ruins of the church of St. John the Bap 
 tist, once a cathedral and to-day a marvel of beauty in its man 
 tle of ivy, despite the unsightly modern tower which offends the 
 eye and affects one with much the same feeling of vexation 
 as is awakened by the sight of some wanton vandalism in a 
 noble or sacred spot. These ruins recall the massive masonry 
 characteristic of many of the more pretentious buildings of olden 
 times. They are exceedingly picturesque, and as a fine speci 
 men of the ruins of edifices which were the glory of a former 
 social order are extremely interesting. 
 
 The cathedral of Chester, however, is by far the most impress 
 ive religious structure in the city. According to tradition it 
 stands on the site of a Druidioal temple which gave place to 
 a building dedicated to Apollo. Later we are told that the 
 British Christians erected on this spot a house of worship to the 
 honor of the Nazarene. After the Saxons came into power we 
 are told that King Wulpherus of Mercia, in the latter half of the 
 seventh century, erected on the site of the present cathedral, a 
 religious house for his daughter and other young women who 
 desired to take the veil. As tradition enters the web and woof 
 of much of the early history relating to this spot, and as the 
 Saxon chronicles are often vague and inaccurate, I do not feel 
 that we are on the firm ground of history in regard to the cathe 
 dral until we reach the advent of the Normans ; from this time 
 we have data which can be regarded as fairly authoritative. 
 Under the rule of the early earls of Chester, the nunnery 
 gave place to a monastery for the Benedictine order. Later was 
 erected the cathedral which has since been the pride of the city, 
 and whose walls might unfold a story more thrilling than the 
 imagination of a novelist would dare to picture. Even to-day 
 
Gbester*on*tbe*IDee si 
 
 this noble structure bears the sad marks of the broken vows of 
 the Parliamentary forces, who pledged themselves to see that the 
 religious houses of Chester were not molested provided the city 
 surrendered, but who, after making this solemn obligation, per 
 mitted the interior of the cathedral to be shamefully defaced and 
 the great organ to be broken. 
 
 The cloister of this building is very ancient in appearance, 
 and carries the mind back to a period so rude and unlike our 
 age that it is difficult for us to gain any adequate conception of 
 the life lived before the dawn of modern times, with the march 
 of civilization unfolding new worlds at each step, and the progress 
 of invention and science which has so completely transformed 
 life, and even to a great degree our ideals and conceptions relat 
 ing to the origin, nature, and destiny of man. 
 
 Curiously enough the rear view of the cathedral, which is best 
 obtained by ascending the walls of the city, is by far the most 
 imposing. Indeed from these ancient walls one may see so much 
 of special interest that I will ask the reader to accompany us on 
 a stroll along this much travelled pathway, so rich in interest to 
 thoughtful minds. 
 
 After ascending the wall near Eastgate Street and leaving the 
 cathedral to our left, we soon find ourselves in front of Phoenix 
 Tower, of which I have before spoken. A tablet attached to 
 this tower conveys the inaccurate information that "King Charles 
 stood upon this tower September 24-, 1645, and saw his army 
 defeated at Rowton Moor," while of course all historians know 
 that it was not until the 27th of September that the defeat was 
 witnessed. How the engraver came to make such a blunder is 
 even less surprising than that the citizens of Chester have per 
 mitted the inaccurate tablet to remain ; perhaps the reverence 
 for the written word is such that the sanctity of engraved error 
 is greater to them than the claims of truth. 
 
 I shall never forget the tragic air of the old gentleman who 
 had charge of the little museum in the tower ; after striving to 
 excite my enthusiasm over Charles, he seized my arm and in the 
 voice of a heavy tragedian in a sensational play said, " Stand 
 here " ; then, after pointing through a little window toward Row- 
 ton Heath, he fastened his eyes upon me with an unpleasant in 
 tensity, while in a voice which suggested the ghost of Hamlet s 
 father he said in measured tones, " You are now standing on the 
 VERY SPOT where on the 27th of September, 16 45, his Majesty, the 
 great and good King Charles the First, witnessed the defeat of 
 his forces at Rowton Moor" His voice was rather tremulous as 
 he finished his last words, and I am sure that my failure to 
 evince the sympathy expected was a greater source of vexation 
 to the old man than the payment of an excess of the customary 
 
82 persons, places anfc Ufceas* 
 
 fee afforded him pleasure. This old gentleman looked like one 
 accustomed to play the part of a heavy tragedian in a melodrama. 
 He had apparently become so thoroughly en rapport with the 
 cause of the ill-starred king that no saint could have awakened in 
 his mind profounder feelings of love and reverence than the 
 English ruler whose life in prosperity was as disappointing, to 
 say the least, as his demeanor in adversity was calculated to 
 soften the criticism which his prosperous years would seem to merit. 
 
 Leaving the tower and continuing our walk, we soon reach a 
 picturesque spot of special interest a little beyond the beaten 
 path which would be taken by those only interested in " doing " 
 the city in the shortest possible time. I refer to the ancient 
 water-tower, erected when the tidal waters of the Dee flowed up 
 to the city walls. Here in olden times ships were made secure 
 to great rings and bolts fastened in the massive walls of this 
 tower. Pausing here for a moment to note the silver and green 
 of the river basin and the lowlands once covered with water, one 
 is reminded that for centuries in the long vanished past Chester 
 was the principal commercial seaport of North England.* And 
 as a well known author has recently pointed out, that which de 
 stroyed Chester s commercial supremacy made Liverpool, for it 
 was not until the upheaving of the estuary of the Dee, accom 
 panied by the submergence of the forest of Leasow and the 
 hollowing out of the great Mersey harbor, that Chester became 
 practically an inland town and the commercial star of Liverpool rose. 
 
 Leaving the old water-tower we soon find ourselves walking 
 along that part of the wall which affords an excellent view of 
 that wonderful piece of masonry known as the Grosvenor s 
 Bridge, consisting of a single arch two hundred feet in length 
 and forty feet high. This is said to be the longest single stone 
 arch in Europe with the exception of -a bridge on the Danube ; it 
 is certainly a marvel of beauty and skill, and the view from this 
 point of the wall is surpassingly beautiful. 
 
 Continuing our walk we soon reach the famous castle of 
 Chester just within the city walls. This building is very notice 
 able owing to the style of architecture suggesting ancient Greece 
 and Rome ; it contrasts boldly with the imposing Norman ruins, 
 the unique architecture of the shopping district, and the hope 
 lessly prosaic modern buildings which one finds on every hand. 
 Probably the most interesting feature connected with the castle 
 is the old tower. Here, the inhabitants of Chester never fail to 
 tell you, King James the Second received the sacrament during 
 his stay in the city. But its walls have witnessed things which 
 most of our readers would regard as of vastly more importance 
 than this fact, which I mention simply to illustrate how firmly the 
 
 * See Encyclopaedia Britannica, ninth edition. 
 
83 
 
 "divine-right " idea seems to hold a place in the mind of the 
 average Englishman. 
 
 Turning from the castle and continuing our walk along the 
 walls, we soon find ourselves opposite the rapids or falls of the 
 little river, which for centuries have turned the wheels for the 
 celebrated mills of the Dee. The mills are to-day, however, 
 rather unsightly buildings, with their numerous broken window- 
 panes and general air of dilapidation. 
 
 I shall never forget the emotion I experienced on one evening 
 in" August, 1894, when standing on this old wall overlooking the 
 Dee. The sun was sinking behind the hills, giving a peculiar 
 though transient brilliancy to the marvellously beautiful land 
 scape, and lighting up with unusual splendor the few fugitive 
 clouds which floated in the sky. A shower had passed about 
 two hours before, leaving the air fresh and redolent with the odors 
 of trees and flowers. In the distance were the hills of Wales; 
 from below came the rushing sound of the rapids of the Dee, 
 while behind rose the din of the city, now dying away as night 
 stole softly on. The scene was one never to be forgotten, and 
 as I stood upon the solid walls viewing the ancient thoroughfare 
 which had been hewn out of solid rock by the Roman soldiers at 
 a time when Christianity was still young, my mind reverted to 
 the past and I thought of the march of time and the strange 
 vicissitudes of life, and a panorama of events passed before me 
 which I shall never forget. 
 
 Upon the T>anks of this wonderfully beautiful river and proba 
 bly on the very site of Chester the ancient Britons lived their 
 rude and careless life. Here the Roman eagles were planted and 
 a military camp was established which grew into a city, while the 
 soldiers of the Empire made this spot their home and wedded 
 British maidens. Here were built a forum, a public bath, and 
 doubtless temples to the deities of the Tiber ; in short, the glory 
 of Roman civilization was reproduced in miniature. 
 
 Then the scene changed, and I beheld the flower of Chester s 
 manhood departing for imperilled Rome. The bitterness of 
 that parting was a precursor of a gloomy time for women, maid 
 ens and children. I saw the star of Briton sink and the suprem 
 acy of the Saxons established even in Chester. Then came the 
 savage Danes, those sons of war and water, who seized the city 
 but were shortly after driven from her wails. I saw the noble 
 daughter of Alfred the Great holding her court in the castle, 
 flushed with love and victory, and listening with swelling breast 
 to the rude songs of valiant deeds. 
 
 The scene again shifted, and now it was the Saxon sun which 
 was setting, and I noted the widowed queen of Harold seeking 
 a refuge in this town, which proved to be the last Saxon city to 
 
8-t persons, places anD UDeas, 
 
 yield to the Conqueror. I saw the Normans come and a new 
 civilization rise on the ruins of British, Roman, and Saxon do 
 minion. I recalled the fact that at the court of the earls of 
 Chester life was lived in much the same careless way that char 
 acterizes the very rich of our time, although there was less of 
 artificiality on the one hand, while on the other ignorance and 
 serfdom enveloped the masses. 
 
 I remembered that it was here in 1399 that Richard IT. was 
 brought captive on his fatal journey to the tower of London, 
 and here also Charles the First had witnessed the defeat of his 
 forces less than four years before his execution. I saw the 
 misery of the people during the years of the sweating sickness, 
 which, however, paled into insignificance before the plague 
 which visited Chester at later periods. I marked the march of 
 humanity with the onward current of the years, the fitful rise of 
 races, and their fatal falls through failure to grasp and assimilate 
 the supreme lesson of lessons, which alone holds the secret of 
 enduring civilization, and which is summed up in that magic 
 trinity, Freedom, Fraternity and Justice ; and I thought how 
 slow of heart is man to learn the august truth noted above and 
 which is epitomized in the golden rule. Yet this is the lesson 
 which this city no less than all history teaches. All civilization 
 will decay and fall until man comes to himself suificiently to 
 appreciate the fact that any foundation save that of spiritual 
 supremacy will sooner or later prove shifting sands; all endur 
 ing progress must be grounded on high ethical truths. 
 Never before had this thought come home to me with such 
 compelling force as at this solemn moment. I saw more clearly 
 than ever before that any nation or civilization which yields to 
 selfism and permits the lower to gain supremacy over the 
 higher, which turns a deaf ear to the demands of fundamental 
 justice, which ignores the spirit of human brotherhood, and allows 
 the canker of egoism to corrupt laws and public opinion, will 
 sooner or later go out in darkness. This is the story which is 
 told by the decay of Roman civilization; indeed, it is the capital 
 lesson of all history no less than it is the cardinal truth incul 
 cated by true religion and philosophy. Might may conquer for 
 a day. Money may pollute and corrupt and thereby turn aside 
 justice for a time, but right alone possesses the element of per 
 sistency, and never until man recognizes justice and altruism as 
 the foundation upon which civilization must be built, will 
 progress be permanent or happiness become a heritage of 
 humanity. 
 
 These thoughts reminded me of the sadder and more tragic side 
 of life in Chester, for this city is no exception in this respect to 
 other similarly populous centres of life in Europe and America. 
 In fact it seemed to me that there was here an unusually large 
 
85 
 
 percentage of persons who were eager to obtain the privilege of 
 earning a few pennies. Here as elsewhere, without doubt, 
 poverty is greatly aggravated by the liquor traffic. I have 
 seldom seen a city where there seemed so many " inns," " cel 
 lars," and "vaults," names designating places where liquor may 
 be bought, as here; and some of these designating titles were 
 peculiarly suggestive ; as for example, I noticed on one occasion in 
 bold letters the " Raven Vaults " as a title for what we would term 
 in this country a saloon. The sight of that name instantly arrested 
 my attention as it seemed so appropriate ; I remembered the 
 raven was popularly considered the " bird of ill omen." It is 
 associated with the idea of misfortune, of misery, and of darkness; 
 as the word "vaults" is strikingly suggestive of the final resting- 
 place of the dead. Ill-fortune, misery, and death such were 
 symbolized by the name of this saloon ; and I thought how ap 
 propriate would be such a designation for all places where man 
 is debased and debauched by strong drink. In justice to Chester, 
 however, I would say that during my stay of over two weeks 
 I saw comparatively little drunkenness in spite of the great 
 number of saloons. The reason, I think, is to be found in the 
 fact that malted drinks rather than stronger liquors are chiefly 
 consumed. The long rows of homes of the poor, filling many 
 streets, are characterized as a rule by stone floors which are 
 usually kept scrupulously clean. Another thing I noticed which 
 impressed me with mingled pleasure and pain was the number 
 of flowers seen on all sides. People who had no ground in 
 which to plant their seeds, had their windows filled with com 
 mon flowers, showing the presence of the innate love of the 
 beautiful. It made me heartsick to think that the divine im 
 pulse, that interior love of the artistic, should have so little to 
 feed upon in the narrow confines of wretched streets. 
 
 I believe, however, that a better day is at hand for humanity. 
 There may be hours of darkness before us, but surely we are in 
 the midst of a transition period, and to-day carries greater 
 possibilities for mankind than any previous birth-era, for we 
 are on a higher rung of the spiral ladder, and education is more 
 diffused. Hence I do not despair. I see the horrid inequality 
 and injustice ; I feel the wrong endured by the people ; but I 
 know that the forces of light are working with us, and if we do our 
 duty the day will soon dawn, not for Chester or England alone, 
 but for the world. " I have faith in freedom and good," wrote 
 John Bright during the darkest hours of our Civil War, and so 
 I feel to-day. The future is with us, and I believe that before a 
 generation has passed the greatest emancipation proclamation 
 of which man has yet dreamed, will be issued. It is to this end 
 that all men and women of the new time must consecrate their 
 highest and noblest endeavors. 
 
Strolls :Be$on& tbe Walls of Cbester; witb 
 (Slimpses of tbe Country Seat of tbe smfce of 
 Westminster an> tbe 1bome of W* i, (Blab* 
 stone* 
 
 I. The Diogenes of the Dee. 
 
 On the morning of the 22d of August, 1894, our little 
 party strolled along the banks of the Dee toward the old city 
 wall. We had left behind us the ruins of the church of St. 
 John the Baptist and the beautiful Grosvenor Park with its 
 velvet-like carpet of emerald and its exceptionally luxuriant 
 shrubbery. Owing to the fact that it was somewhat cloudy, 
 we were debating whether it would be w r ise to take one of 
 the steam launches for our long contemplated visit to the 
 country seat of the Duke of Westminster, when a weather- 
 beaten boatman importuned us to take a sail upon the 
 river. "It will be a tine morning to visit Eaton Hall," he 
 urged in the broad accent of the English laboring man, "and 
 it will be helping me if you will let me take you there." 
 
 1 will not attempt to repeat either here or on the following 
 pages the language, nor to imitate the quaint phraseology of 
 this striking individual who clearly was guileless of any 
 extensive acquaintance with the English grammar, but who 
 was, nevertheless, a remarkable man. He was an earnest 
 and thoughtful reader and an independent thinker, and I 
 should say in many respects an excellent type of the sturdy 
 yeomanry who so largely represent the strength of England. 
 I afterwards learned he had saved more than a score of 
 lives from accidental drowning in the treacherous waters of 
 the Dee; he had also rescued several persons who, under the 
 influence of drink, or crushed by adversity, sought the sui 
 cide s end in the still hours of the night. He was strong 
 limbed; his face was bronzed with sun and wind his coun 
 tenance was open and bore a sturdy expression. He must 
 have been fifty years of age, but was far stronger to all 
 
Strolls iJBe^onfc tbe Malls of Gbester, 8T 
 
 appearances than are many pampered sons of wealth at 
 thirty-five. Still, his bowed shoulders and the deep wrinkles 
 together with a certain sadness or gravity which seemed to 
 grace his resolute brow, indicated that his lot in life had 
 been by no means easy, and that much anxiety and care 
 had been mingled in his cup of life. He was quite talkative, 
 very much of a cynic at times, but frequently his remarks 
 were exceedingly thoughtful, and more than once he re 
 flected in a striking manner ideas which I had heard ex 
 pressed with less perspicuity by toilers with w T hom I had 
 chanced to fall into conversation in Dover, London and 
 Liverpool. His outlook on life and public matters, though 
 frankly given in quaint and homely speech, evinced much 
 of the philosopher, and was so strikingly opposite to the 
 views held by the owner of Eaton Hall, that I jotted down 
 much that passed between us, and will preface my descrip 
 tion of the palatial country seat of the Duke of West 
 minister with some of the observations made by our Di 
 ogenes of the Dee. 
 
 After pointing out many places of interest on the banks 
 of the river, something was said of Judge Hughes, the emi 
 nent English author and his experiment at Eugby, Ten 
 nessee. The judge is a resident of Chester, and our philoso 
 pher seemed to regard him highly. 
 
 "He is considerable of a man," he said, "and that is more 
 than can be said of a good many who pride themselves in 
 the possession of titles and wealth." 
 
 "We are from America," I observed, "and you know we do 
 not care for titles as you do over here, but I would like to 
 know your opinion of the Duke." 
 
 The old man eyed me narrowly a moment and it seemed 
 to me that an incredulous smile played for an instant 
 around his lips at my reference to our contempt for titles. 
 I felt there was a remark upon his lips which might have 
 called to mind the exorbitant prices recently paid by many 
 daughters of our "mushroom aristocracy" for broken-down 
 lords, dukes and princes, rich only in empty titles, but I 
 fancy his native shrewdness checked him from making a 
 remark which might possibly offend us. 
 
 After a moment s reflection he said, "The present Duke 
 is entirely unlike his father, who was very generous and 
 did more for Chester than any person within my recollec 
 tion. You have seen his statue in Grosvenor Park?" We 
 assented. "Well then you know something of the kind of 
 looking man he was; no one could ever mistake him for his 
 coachman ; but the present Duke [and here our philosopher 
 
Strolls Be^onfc tbe Malls ot Chester* 89 
 
 shook his head sadly] is very different; he does not look at 
 all like a man of quality." 
 
 I observed that looks were sometimes deceptive. 
 
 "I know/ he replied, "but this is not one of those cases. 
 He is close, he never gives Chester anything to speak of, 
 he seems to think chiefly of himself and his pleasure, al 
 though he is anxious to be regarded as a philanthropist. 
 They say he lias the largest rental income from London 
 property of any man in England; I don t remember the 
 exact figures, but I have them at home, and it is almost too 
 big to believe." 
 
 "I have noticed it stated that the Duke is very generous 
 and that he gives all fees from visitors to the palace to 
 charitable institutions," I observed. 
 
 "Now there is a case in point," said our cynic. "You see 
 the Duke is very proud of his palace; it is one of the finest in 
 England if not in Europe, and he wants visitors from every 
 where to see it; that satisfies his vanity just as the vanity of 
 other men is satisfied in other ways. But, by charging, for 
 charity s sake, a shilling to see the palace and a shilling to 
 go through the gardens and conservatories, he is able to 
 turn over about five hundred pounds a year to the Chester 
 Infirmary, Khyl Convalescent Home and other like institu 
 tions. This is heralded far and near as an example of the 
 Duke s generosity, and he is enabled to pose as a philan 
 thropist, while unthinking people who work and suffer that 
 such men as the Duke may spend their time in luxurious 
 ease and idleness in London, Scotland and elsewhere, read 
 these accounts of his charity and are ready to throw up their 
 hats and shout their praises; but that is only because they 
 don t think," continued our philosopher in a slow and em 
 phatic tone. "But," he added earnestly, "there are 
 more and more working men in England every month who 
 are learning to reason for themselves, and they say, and 
 rightly say that we don t want the crumbs that fall from 
 these rich men s tables any longer. We are tired of crawl 
 ing on our hands and knees for the bones and crumbs after 
 we ourselves have supplied the materials for the feast. 
 They say give us justice and not charity, and you are from 
 America so you can understand how they feel. They say 
 that the Duke does not earn his vast income ; he don t even 
 go to the trouble of collectino 1 it. London is increasing the 
 value of his property all the time, and without his working 
 he is enabled to rear) vast fortunes earned by others, while 
 those who rent his property often have to work hard days 
 and stay awake nights worrying the life out of them to 
 
Strolls JBe^onb tbe Malls of Gbester. 
 
 make ends meet and pay their rents. They have to cut 
 down the wages of their employees to almost starvation 
 point and their employees have to skimp and twist and turn 
 and live a dog s life to live at all. Now why should the 
 workers bear the burdens while society is all the time mak 
 ing this property more valuable and the man who has never 
 done anything lives in ease and luxury off of it? That is 
 not justice, and the people have a right to demand justice. 
 Now I don t mean to say the Duke is worse than many 
 other landlords, and think from what I read and hear that 
 he is better than a great many of the money-lending class 
 who are oppressing the people, but the whole system is 
 wrong because it is not just and it is not according to the 
 Scriptures, at least that is what these people say." 
 
 "From my point of view I think they are right," I replied. 
 
 "Do you think so? I am glad to hear you say that, for I 
 agree with them too." 
 
 From this time on our philosopher was very free in his 
 criticism. 
 
 "You spoke just now of the principles being unscriptural," 
 I began. 
 
 "Does not the Book say, If any will not work neither shall 
 he eat ; now what does that imply?" he quickly interposed. 
 
 "Yes, but that was not the point I had in mind. I wish 
 to know the attitude of the clergy on the great social and 
 political problems." 
 
 The cynic shrugged his shoulders significantly. "I belong 
 to the church," he answered, "but I have not attended service 
 for a long time, because I found out that from the bishops 
 down, fine bonnets and good coats count for more than the 
 heads and hearts of the people. Our clergymen are think 
 ing a good deal more about having an easy time or gaining 
 popularity and having their names appear in the great 
 papers, coupled with fair words, than they are concerned 
 about the poor and the starving in their midst." 
 
 "That is undoubtedly true in a large number of cases," 
 I replied, "but there are many clergymen who are very 
 different." 
 
 "There may be enough exceptions to prove the rule I 
 have given, but I doubt if there would be any to spare," 
 promptly exclaimed the cynic in homely terms and vigor 
 ous tones. "Why, there are fifty-three thousand* members 
 of the clergy in Great Britain, not counting the dissenting 
 ministers. Now if the Master should come as He came of 
 
 *Thesp fijrnres are those of our philosopher, and T have not been able to verify his 
 statement, so simply give the number as he gave it to us. 
 
Strolls JBe^onb tbe Malls of Cbester* 93 
 
 old and He should go to the fishing towns and manufactur 
 ing cities of England and search out the poor and suffering; 
 it He should mingie with tnem and give words of ciieer to 
 those of our time who correspond to tnose who were the pub 
 licans and sinners of His aay, ana at the same time should 
 claim that He was the Lord and simply point to His life, 
 teachings and works as proof of His assertions, do you think 
 there would be any rusn of bishops in England to follow 
 Him? !No sir, I can tell you that if they followed Him it 
 would be to testify in court against Him just as the Phari 
 sees and chief priests did of old." 
 
 "I think you are correct in your conclusions," I assented. 
 "The cry w r ould be made by the clergy and the press to-day, 
 as it was by conventional society and orthodox leaders in 
 Jesus time, that He was a wine bibber and a friend of 
 publicans and sinners, or in a word, disreputable, not only 
 unworthy of conhdence but one who was an impostor mak 
 ing impious claims and, being a teacher of things that were 
 fundamentally at variance with the existing social order, 
 He should be summarily dealt with in order that society 
 might be protected." 
 
 "That is exactly it," exclaimed our philosopher, "and His 
 very works would be denounced as imposition upon the 
 ignorant, His motives would be judged and condemned, and 
 not only the clergy and the courts, but the press and those 
 of the masses icho do not think, would join in the cry to dis 
 credit or destroy Him, just as the Jews did of old. I have 
 often said this," continued the old man, "after I have heard 
 our rectors preaching against the Jews for crucifying Jesus, 
 while they carefully avoided anything in favor of justice 
 here and nmr" 
 
 "There is too much dealing with generalities, too much 
 skilful fighting shy of all remedies of a fundamental charac 
 ter in and out of the church the world over," I said, "but 
 have you not fourd the dissenters more hospitable to the 
 cause of the poor?" 
 
 I shall never forget the look of contempt which appeared 
 upon the bronzed face of the old man as he shruff^ed his 
 shoulders in his characteristic way and replied, "I never 
 attend chapel, but from what I hear they are all berries off 
 of the same bush when it comes to handling these questions; 
 tlioy are not anxious to imitate the Master; it w r ould not be 
 safe. No, I never go to chapel." 
 
 This \vas a striking illustration of the power of religious 
 prejudice over a mnn who prided himself upon his independ 
 ence of thought and freedom from the trammels of conven 
 
Strolls Beonfc tbe malls ot Cbester* 95 
 
 tionalism. His look, tone and movement, far more than 
 his words, conveyed the scorn and contempt he felt for the 
 dissenters, and 1 could easily understand how little it would 
 take to fan the flame of religious prejudice in such as he, 
 until reason and justice would count tor naught. The old 
 gentleman soon reverted to Eaton Hall and the family of 
 the Duke, whose ancestors he meantime reminded us, origi 
 nally aided the Conqueror in robbing the rightful owners of 
 their land. 
 
 "The property of the Earl of Chester was stolen property 
 in the beginning, and the fortune of the Duke of West 
 minster is largely the result of laws which have been passed 
 favoring classes. You see," he continued, "these men don t 
 earn the money they get; they don t even help earn it. At 
 some time in their lives they come into possession of prop 
 erty which their fathers never earned, and which laws help 
 them to increase, and they gain certain rights which also 
 aid them, but their possessions are not the result of their 
 earnings, while a large part of their wealth comes from poor 
 men and women and children who are compelled to live 
 such lives as the moneyed classes would not dream of having 
 their dogs or horses live. Now you know that is not right, 
 that is not just, and it is not according to the teachings of 
 the Master." 
 
 Clearly I thought our philosopher was not a Tory, which 
 suggested to my mind the fact that within a few miles of 
 Chester lived William E. Gladstone, the idol of the Liberals. 
 
 "You have one man living near Chester of whom I suppose 
 you all feel proud." 
 
 The philosopher looked up inquiringly. "Gladstone," 
 replied one of our party. Again I noticed the characteris 
 tic shrug of the shoulders and something akin to contempt 
 on his face as he replied, "According to my way of thinking, 
 and there are a good many people who agree with me, Glad 
 stone is the most overrated man in England. He is more 
 of a politician than a statesman. He has been on both sides 
 of nearly every great question that has come up in his time. 
 Does that look like statesmanship?" 
 
 "A sincere man will often change his mind and all great 
 and worthy men will grow, as they advance in life, so as to 
 see problems in a broader and nobler light than they at first 
 conceived them," I replied. "If a man is always true to the 
 fundamental ideals of justice and fraternity, always on the 
 side of the oppressed, in seeking to relieve their suffering by 
 insisting on the carrying out of the Golden Rule as a law in 
 government no less than between man and man, he is to be 
 
96 persons, places anD UDeas* 
 
 respected, however mistaken he may be at times. It is 
 treason to humanity and justice and a disregard to pledges 
 and the sacrifice of fundamental demands of justice to expe 
 diency or policy which are reprehensible in statecraft and 
 which deserve our censure. Now does not Mr. Gladstone 
 stand for humanity and progress? is not his pulse always 
 beating with the heart of justice?" I continued. 
 
 "No," he replied most decisively, "that is just the trouble 
 with Gladstone; the votes to be won by appealing to the pop 
 ular and selfish interests of short-sighted Englishmen have 
 led him to disregard the very things which you say are the 
 essentials of a statesman. Look for instance at his attitude 
 during your civil war, w 7 hen John Bright stood for the 
 cause of freedom; where did Mr. Gladstone stand? Now I 
 do not believe that Mr. Gladstone would admit for a moment 
 that he believed that African, or any other kind of slavery, 
 was right, but it was deemed politic to appeal to the selfish 
 interests of Englishmen in sympathy with the great cotton 
 states, and Gladstone did this; but was it the stand which a 
 statesman would have taken? 
 
 "I could mention several other instances," he added, 
 becoming quite earnest as he continued: "It is true he is 
 always foremost in denouncing inhumanity and cruelty if 
 it is in some foreign country, and there is no danger of his 
 party losing by such a stand, but that is not the test of a 
 man s true greatness as I see it. No man knows better than 
 Gladstone the real injustice suffered by the working 
 classes of England to-day, and no one professes to be more 
 in sympathy with them; but his party has come under the 
 control of the landlords and the moneyed classes, and there 
 fore he will not champion any great reform of a radical 
 character which would offend the moneyed classes to whom 
 the Liberals, no less than the Tories, look for support in 
 carrying elections. I used to be a Liberal, but they have 
 pledged reform to the working men too many times, and 
 then w T hen the real masters object to anything of a funda 
 mental character they make a flourish of trumpets and fire 
 blank cartridges, but are very careful to do nothing; this 
 pleases their masters and deceives the people who do not 
 think. The fact is, as I see it, the Liberal party is more 
 anxious to please the rich than the Tories are just at pres 
 ent." 
 
 "You think that the Liberals have 1 been captured by the 
 landlords and lendlords of England, and being a party 
 founded on democratic ideals and the ancient enemy of 
 enthroned conservatism and w r ealth, they are regarded with 
 
Strolls JSeponb tbe Malls ot Gbester. 97 
 
 MR. GLADSTONE AND HIS LITTLE GRAIODATJGHTER DOROTHY DREW. 
 
 more suspicion by the new masters than are the Tories, 
 whose principles are anti-democratic and whose long fealty 
 to the rich and titled classes frees them from suspicion 
 which rests on the Liberals," I replied. 
 
 "That is exactly it," returned our philosopher; "they feel 
 that they must out-Herod Herod to satisfy the rich, and on 
 many points they are less liberal than the Tories. Now T 
 don t know that I am in favor of Woman s Suffrage," he con- 
 
IPcrsons, UMaces anD Ufceas, 
 
 tinned, "but take that us mi example. Lord Salisbury is 
 far more favorable to ii ih;in Gladstone, although one would 
 naturally expect the Liberal leader to champion the right of 
 franchise for women, and there are many oilier things which 
 I might name in which the Liberals are more conservative 
 on (jiieHtiotiH which look toward extending the freedom and 
 bettering the condition of the people, which are being more 
 strenuously opposed by the Liberals than the Tories. The 
 Liberal party, it seems to me, is very much like Dickens 
 Uriah Ileep in its attitude toward the moneyed classes. 
 Its very action suggests Uriah s favorite phrase, I am very 
 umble. 
 
 "Well," I said, "Gladstone took a brave stand for Ire 
 land." 
 
 "And there again he counted the cost," interposed our 
 cynic. "Look at his past record on that question. Parnell 
 was able to convince him that his little band was indispen 
 sable to Liberal supremacy; a bargain was struck, and had 
 all gone well with Parnell, the programme might have suc 
 ceeded, but as a matter of fact I do not think Gladstone has 
 shown true statesmanship in handling the Irish question; 
 a middle course it seems to me, would have been the wisest 
 at the present time at least. Mr. Gladstone favors alto 
 gether too much for the safety and security of England 
 when we remember the geographical position of Ireland. 
 Indeed, here again he considered the success of his party 
 rather than the real interest of England or Ireland in the 
 bargain which he struck with Parnell. Xow if he had 
 shown anything like this zeal in carrying out measures of 
 permanent value in order to secure justice to English work 
 ing men and tenants he would, it is true, have offended the 
 moneyed classes no doubt, but he would have acted the part 
 of a true statesman and a wise humanitarian, and even 
 though he might have suffered defeat for a time. Liberalism 
 would have gained more permanent supremacy in England 
 in the long run. At least, that is the way we look at it, and 
 do you know there are tens of thousands of voters all over 
 this country who no longer take their ideas from the clergy, 
 the big papers, or the politicians: They are thinking for 
 themselves, and you mark my words, at the next general 
 election the Liberal party will be overthrown. I don t ex 
 pect the Tories will do much better, but it is necessary that 
 the Liberals bo rebuked. The working people." he contin 
 ued, "are talking among themselves and doing a great deal 
 of thinking. There are a great many things being written 
 which don t appear in the papers, and which the public don t 
 
J 
 
loo persons, places aut> flfceas. 
 
 take into account, but some day all this educational work, 
 which is making men think for themselves as never before, 
 >\ill tell, and the world no less than h,ngland will be sur 
 prised at the result; but here we are at tne landing, I will 
 remain until YOU return; don t hurry." 
 
 We stepped irom the boat and turned our faces toward 
 Eaton Hall. From remarks dropped, which space forbids 
 my giving, it was evident that our cynical philosopher had 
 been reading much of the literature of social democracy. 
 He gave us an approximate number of the abandoned farms, 
 Together with, the views of writers of considerable reputa 
 tion, showing that the shortsighted course of England in 
 permitting the money-lending classes to dictate her policy 
 had reacted on the poor at home, as well as the creditor 
 nations abroad, and thnt even the landlords were now suffer 
 ing in consequence. From the views expressed by others, 
 in various parts of England, no less than his own 
 statement of the number of those who believed as 
 he did, I became deeply impressed with the conviction that 
 there was a tremendous undercurrent of discontent in Eng 
 land. Tens of thousands have lost faith in the politicians 
 and the partisan press of to-day. They are reading a vast 
 amount of literature favoring social democracy, and I be 
 lieve that w r hile the pendulum will possibly move backward 
 and forward for a time between Liberalism and Toryism 
 yet in England unless there arises, at an early date, 
 some statesman with the sagacity of Sir Robert Peel, to 
 meet the impending crisis as he met the Corn Law agitation, 
 some startling changes wall take place in this island before 
 a generation passes. 
 
 II. The Country Seat of the Duke of Westminster. 
 
 The roadway to Eaton Hall led through a broad expanse 
 oi ! sparsely wooded land beautifully carpeted with velvety 
 grass. A large number of deer were feeding near the road, 
 but took no notice of passing visitors; they seemed as 
 tame as sheep in our pastures. Some idea of the extent of 
 the Duke s domain may be gained when it is remembered 
 that the park in which the palace of Eaton Hall is situated 
 is eight by twelve miles in area. 
 
 We first entered the gardens; a scene of beauty never to 
 be forgotten opened before us. The extensive conserva 
 tories were marvellous in their color effects, and although 
 the air w r as tropical and heavy with mingled perfumes we 
 were tempted to linger pome lime in the mid"t of the artifi 
 cially tropical region in which the prodigality of nature 
 
Strolls Beson^ tbe Walls of Cbesteto 101 
 
 in her color effects was so conspicuous. One of our party 
 observed that if a quantity of the dowers which were tailing, 
 were cut and daily sent to the sick in and out of the hospitals 
 at Chester and thereabouts, the cost would be small, while 
 numbers of hearts and homes \vould be brightened and 
 subtly refined. The great fruit conservatories were also 
 interesting; here peaches, plums and pears, no less than 
 grapes, were trained as vines along great walls and loaded 
 with their luscious products. 
 
 "The Duke must enjoy the flowers and fruit," I suggested 
 to a gardener. 
 
 "He is not here much of the time to enjoy them/ was 
 the reply; "at present he is in Scotland, but he lives in Lon 
 don, and is here but a few months in the year." 
 
 Thinking how much the weary invalids, not four miles 
 distant, would enjoy the luscious peaches and grapes which 
 were hanging on these vines, we turned into the palace, 
 which I will not attempt to describe at length, contenting 
 myself w r ith brief descriptions of some typical rooms. 
 
 Eaton Hall is a noble edifice, displaying in a most striking 
 manner what the resources of modern art can do w r hen great 
 wealth is at command. The duke is said to be the richest 
 nobleman in England. He has certainly expended vast 
 sums in the most lavish manner on this magnificent country 
 seat. Probably one of the most striking rooms of the pal 
 ace is the Grand Saloon. This apartment, which in reality 
 is an extension of the great central hall, presents a most 
 imposing prospect from every side, impressing the visitor 
 with the scale of grandeur which pervades the interior of 
 the building no less than the charm of nature, heightened 
 by the cunning hand of art, which is appreciated the mo 
 ment one looks out of the great windows of the saloon. A 
 striking feature of the interior decoration is H. Stacy 
 Mark s panoramic paintings of Chaucer s "Canterbury Pil 
 grims." The strength of this work lies in the marked indi 
 viduality of the characters represented rather than in its 
 color effects, which indeed seemed to me to be indifferent; 
 the artist, however, has achieved a real triumph in the life 
 like qualitites which characterize the numerous individuals 
 represented. The vaulted ceiling of the room will attract 
 the attention of the visitor whether or not he feels, as I did, 
 that it was somewhat out of harmony with the other decora 
 tions in the room. It is treated after an East Indian desicrn, 
 the centre being a representation of the sun surrounded by 
 stars, all treated in gold on an azure background. The 
 mantel-piece in this apartment is especially rich and effect- 
 
102 persons, places anfc Ufceas. 
 
 ive; but of all the show rooms of the palace, the one which 
 impressed me as being the most harmonious in treatment 
 as it was also the most attractive, was the library. This 
 great hall, which is ninety-two feet in length and thirty feet 
 in width, is richly furnished and contains more than twelve 
 thousand volumes. Two immense mantel-pieces are noble 
 specimens of line wood-work and are in perfect keeping 
 with the general treatment of the room, which throughout 
 is rich and delightfully harmonious. A very interesting- 
 decorative feature is found in five large historical paintings 
 by Benjamin West, among the most interesting of which are 
 Oliver Cromwell Dissolving the Long Parliament, Charles 
 II Landing in Dover, and The Death of General Wolfe on 
 the Heights of Abraham. In this connection I would men 
 tion among the art treasures of Eaton Hall, several life- 
 size portraits of the Grosvenor family executed by some of 
 the most eminent portrait painters, including Sir John 
 Millais there are also some pictures attributed to Rubens. 
 
 Before leaving the palace w r e paused for the second time 
 within the Chapel ; here, as elsewhere, we were impressed 
 with the lavish expenditure of money. The lofty tower of 
 this chapel is fully one hundred and seventy-five feet in 
 height; it contains a chime consisting of twenty-eight bells, 
 the largest weighing two and a half tons. The interior of 
 the edifice is very impressive with its handsome stained- 
 glass windows through which the sunlight was Hooding the 
 rich furnishings from the many colored panes. 
 
 As I stood there I w r as reminded of some remarks made by 
 our philosopher about Jesus, and I wondered how the low r ly 
 Nazarene,in whose honor this edifice was ostensibly erected, 
 would have felt had He been there fresh from London, 
 where without a place to lay His head He had shared the lot 
 of thousands of out-of-works who nightly sleep on the stone 
 embankment along the Thames. I knew, judging from 
 the life He lived in Palestine, that had he stood in the aisles 
 of this magnificent chapel, His serene brow would have 
 borne a look of mingled sorrow and indignation. .1 fancied 
 He would have felt something of the unutterable sadness 
 which He experienced when he wept over Jerusalem, and 
 something of the withering indignation which marked His 
 speech when He uttered His terrible "woes" against those 1 
 "who devour widow s homes and for a pretence make long 
 prayers." 
 
 777". Ilawarden on a Fete Day. 
 
 During our stay in Chester we visited Hawarden, the 
 home of William E. Gladstone, the man whom I believe 
 
Strolls Besonfc tbe Walls of Cbester. 103 
 
 to be the most ardently loved and the most thoroughly 
 feared and disliked among the statesmen of England. Ha- 
 warden is six miles east of Chester across the borders of 
 Wales, and the visitor who takes a cab or the tram-car 
 passes through one of those horrible little towns which are 
 given over to mining or manufacturing, so frequently en 
 countered in England. The sight of the bare, dirty houses 
 and the barren aspect of things on every side cannot fail to 
 cast a gloom over the mind. I remember that the oppres 
 sion occasioned by the sight of this town spoiled to a great 
 degree the enjoyment we \vould otherwise have derived 
 from the beautiful scenery which lay beyond, especially the 
 Welsh hills, clothed in that purple haze, the charm of which 
 may be felt but can never be described, which rose in the 
 distance. The village of Hawarden was gorgeously arrayed 
 in holiday attire in honor of the fete at Hawarden manor- 
 house, and throngs were constantly arriving from remote 
 parts of England, reminding one of pilgrims visiting the 
 shrine of a saint. To obtain a glimpse of the face of the 
 "Grand Old Man" seemed to be a "consummation devoutly 
 wished," and if perchance the visitor might hear his voice, 
 that indeed would be something for him to dwell upon when 
 he reached home and narrated again and again to his wife, 
 his children and the more or less envious neighbors, the 
 story of this great event in his sombre life. The ardent 
 admiration entertained by thousands of visitors, no less than 
 the enthusiasm everywhere manifested by the inhabitants 
 of Hawarden, contrasted most boldly with the opinions ex 
 pressed by our Diogenes of the Dee. 
 
 The wonderful magnetic power exerted by the remarka 
 ble man who has played so important a part in the drama of 
 English politics, reminded me of the enthusiasm which 
 marked the campaign when Mr. Elaine ran for the presi 
 dency. I remember that while the press of Massachusetts 
 was anything but enthusiastic in his support, he received 
 such an ovation when he spoke in Boston as few men have 
 ever enjoyed. Henry Clay was another great figure in 
 American politics W 7 ho awakened the same intense enthu 
 siasm on the part of the masses which Mr. Elaine exerted, 
 during the aggressive period of his career, and which Mr. 
 Gladstone has long wielded throughout England. I know 
 of no living statesman who calls forth anything like the 
 same degree of admiration, confidence and love of his 
 partisans as does Mr. Gladstone. This intense loyalty, 
 which in cases almost amounts to blind devotion, always 
 begets bitter enmity. The Tories of England make a very 
 black indictment when they enumerate the real or supposed 
 
104 persons, places 
 
 shortcomings of the idol of the Liberals, while the Social 
 Democrats, who have come out largely from the Gladstone 
 party, and which I think are rapidly growing in numbers 
 even though they lack as yet the power which comes wilii 
 union and leadership, regard him in various degrees of dis 
 favor, ranging all the way from sincere regret that he can 
 not or will not see the necessity for fundamental social 
 changes, to open contempt, no less marked or intense than 
 that expressed by the most ultra Tories. 
 
 On the day we visited Haw^arden the vast multitude which 
 was assembled was not only rewarded by seeing Mr. Glad 
 stone but their joy w r as increased by hearing him deliver a 
 brief address, and the cup of joy was filled to overflowing 
 w r hen little Dorothy Drew, the petted granddaughter of the 
 great statesman, appeared before them waving her handker 
 chief in response to their thunderous applause. I regret 
 that it was impossible for us to see the aged statesman 
 owing to the illness of one of our party. 
 
 Ha warden, like Chester, has a wonderful history. It was 
 a Saxon stronghold before the Norman conquest, and w r as 
 ceded to Hugh Lupus after the creation of the earldom of 
 Chester. Situated almost on the border between England 
 and Wales, it has been the scene of many exciting and 
 important episodes in the annals of English history. Tn 
 1645 Charles I found temporary refuge here after his flight 
 from Chester, but the castle afterwards fell into the hands 
 of the Parliamentary forces and was subsequently almost 
 destroyed. From the present ruins, w r hich date back to the 
 thirteenth century, one obtains a fine view 7 of the Dee valley. 
 For a period of two hundred years Hawarden belonged to 
 the famous Stanley family, but subsequently it was pur 
 chased by Chief Justice Glynn, and in 1874 passed into the 
 family of Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 The old castle is less interesting, perhaps, than the pres 
 ent mansion where resides the eminent Liberal leader. The 
 great library of Mr. Gladstone consists of more than ten 
 thousand volumes, and is free to the residents of Hawarden, 
 who have merely to register their names and the dates w 7 hen 
 they borrow the volumes. A large orphanage, liberally 
 supported by Mrs. Gladstone, is found a short distance 
 from the mansion, and speaks of the w y arm heart of that 
 most estimable lady. The park in which the castle nnd 
 modern mansion are situated is exceedingly beautiful, mid 
 contrasts strongly w T ith the home environments of the voters 
 who go to make up the bone and sinew of the Liberal party 
 of England. 
 
 That Mr. Gladstone has failed to jrrasp the real meaning 
 
Strolls Be^oufc tbe Malls ot Cbestet, 
 
 and significance of the social discontent of our times, I think 
 is unquestionably true; that he has failed to rise to the 
 heights which would have enabled him to see the rising of 
 the new social order which must replace the present as 
 surely as centralized government supplanted feudalism, is 
 in my judgment equally obvious. That his position on many 
 questions, as woman s enfranchisement for example, is 
 distinctly opposed to the onward current of the best thought 
 of our age is clearly apparent; but that in spite of his short 
 comings his is a manly and noble figure, we must in justice 
 concede, and be our views what they may in regard to Mr. 
 Gladstone as a statesman, the personal and home life of the 
 man challenges the sincere admiration of all lovers of sturdi- 
 ness and comparative simplicity, in an age w T hen those in 
 elevated stations are living a life permeated with artificial 
 ity and where too many of our reputed great men are vying 
 with each other in wanton luxury and selfish indulgence. 
 
Winter 2>a\>e in jflorifca or (Blimpses of life 
 in tbe Xanb of tbe flDagnolia, tbe range anb 
 tbe palm. 
 
 I am writing by an open window overlooking the Halifax 
 River. On the opposite bank, somewhat to the left, is Daytona, 
 while on the right is the picturesque hamlet of Holly Hill, 
 both in full view. It is the 8th of March, and the weather is 
 ideal ; a delightful breeze has been blowing since daybreak ; 
 the air is soft and balmy as that of a June morning in the North. 
 
 At eight o clock this morning a small flotilla, consisting of two 
 modest-sized steamboats, two naphtha launches and a sail-boat, 
 passed my window. They came from Daytona and were bound 
 for a picturesque little fresh-water stream some distance north, 
 which bears the quaint Indian name of Tomoka. The merry 
 shouts and rollicksome laughter which came from the excursion 
 ists indicated that the multitudinous cares, anxieties and sorrows 
 which shadow life had been banished for a few hours, and that 
 pleasure and the beauties of nature were to be enjoyed with that 
 wholesome abandon which is seen only when man escapes from 
 the thraldom of conventionalism and draws near to Nature. 
 
 As these little vessels, freighted with human loves, hopes and 
 desires, passed from view, I involuntarily thought of that long- 
 departed day when canoes, carrying the careless children of 
 another race, passed to and fro over the slow-moving Halifax ; 
 when the stalwart red man trod the sands by the sea, fished in 
 the ocean and the river, gathered wild fruit, and hunted game in 
 the. forests. I thought of that distant day, now about four cen 
 turies removed, when excited warriors brought strange stories 
 of the coming of wonderful men from over the sea, whose faces 
 were white, whose clothing was gay as the flowers which car 
 peted the forests, and who claimed to be messengers of the 
 
 10f, 
 
I 
 
 i I 
 
Winter H>aps in fflorifca. 109 
 
 Great Spirit. Doubtless some who heard these wonder stories 
 shook their heads and laughed derisively, for human nature is 
 the same in all ages. Others there were who, wishing to probe 
 the mystery, were impatient to march northward in search of 
 the strangers, who, if found, were to be interrogated, that they 
 might know whether the god- men came as friends or foes. 
 There were lovers then as now upon the banks of the Halifax 
 River ; and I doubt not that many an Indian maiden heard the 
 strange rumor with mingled wonder and apprehension, followed 
 by an oppressive, nameless dread, for woman s mind is ever 
 more intuitive than man s. But gone are the hopes and fears of 
 this people. And to-day only a small remnant of the race that 
 hunted and fought over the flower-decked sands of Florida remains. 
 The laughter and song of the old joyous times come to us as the 
 perfume of their legends, and little more than tradition and 
 story are left,* coupled with the quaint and oftentimes musical 
 names which they gave to rivers, inlets and streams. 
 
 The Halifax River is in reality a tide-water lagoon of half a 
 mile in width. Into its waters empty many fresh-water streams 
 which are exceedingly beautiful. The Tomoka, to which I have 
 alluded, is perhaps the most popular. Its channel is sufficiently 
 deep ta permit boats to run several miles up its narrow, serpen 
 tine course. At a picturesque landing a few miles from its 
 mouth a large, delightful log-cabin, with an immense old- 
 fashioned fireplace, has been built in the midst of a wild scene 
 of tropical tangle-wood almost a jungle. Here picnic parties 
 may be seen almost daily in an abandon of natural enjoyment. 
 Staid men of business and women of brilliancy and culture for 
 get the solemn dicta of conventionality and become boys and 
 girls again for a few brief hours. It is impossible for pen or 
 camera to do justice to the beauties of the Tomoka. And yet 
 this stream is only one of many equally picturesque though less 
 navigable which empty their fresh waters into the salty Halifax. 
 
 Since the day Ponce de Leon landed in quest of the Fountain 
 of Youth, Spain, France, England and the Republic of the West 
 have claimed, occupied, fought for, or sought by purchase to ob 
 tain this home of the magnolia, the orange and the palm. And 
 yet there are probably few places which at first sight are so dis 
 appointing to tourists as Florida. The absence of the closely 
 knit grass sod of the North, and the omnipresent sand, impress 
 the stranger very unfavorably. 
 
 *A few only of Seminole Indians remain. They dwell chiefly in the extreme 
 southern part of the inhabitable region of Florida. They are divided into small 
 bands of a few scores in number, the small remnants of once mighty tribes. 
 These bands are presided over by chiefs as in olden days, and the title "in some 
 cases seems to be handed down from father to son. Thus, one band is to-day ruled 
 by Tallahassee, another acknowledges Tiger Tails, while the son of this chief is 
 designated Little Tiger Tails. Sometimes they seem to borrow appellations from the 
 white man which are more realistic and characteristic than romantic ; thus one of 
 the chiefs bears the name of Billy Bowlegs. 
 
Winter IDaps in fflorifca. in 
 
 The winter of 1895 will long be remembered as a most disas 
 trous season to the Floridans, no less than it has proved disap 
 pointing to Northern tourists. The frosts, being the most severe 
 known for over half a century, have wrought havoc not only 
 with the more tropical fruits, but with all trees belonging to the 
 citron family, and many other less tropical plants have suffered 
 severely. The ever present groves of oranges, grape-fruit, limes, 
 lemons and citrons, guiltless of leaf, flower or fruit, tell a tragic 
 story of loss and ruin to patient, unremitting industry ; while for 
 the tourist the state without the beauty of the orange trees, in 
 their glory of leaf, flower and fruit, is shorn of one of its chief 
 attractions. 
 
 On previous visits to Florida my most southern points were 
 St. Augustine and Palatka. This winter I came to Daytona and 
 the Halifax Peninsula. Here the destruction wrought by the 
 frost is everywhere discernible, but it has failed to rob this 
 region of its beauty. The tall palmetto, the gaunt live-oak, 
 draped in southern moss, the bay, magnolia and pine, together 
 with numerous evergreens, shrubs and underbrush, clothe the 
 earth in green, and with the soft and balmy atmosphere make 
 one unconscious that it is yet winter, and would enable us to 
 forget the frosts of the past few months, were we not continually 
 reminded of them by the bare branches of the orange, lemon and 
 lime trees, and the guava, oleander and many other shrubs. 
 
 Half a mile from where I am writing the waves of the ocean 
 are beating against the most magnificent beach it has been 
 my fortune to see. This morning I spent some time upon its 
 warm white sands. There were enough clouds floating in the 
 sky to prevent the sun from being unpleasant. A number of men 
 and women were revelling in the delights of sea-bathing in water 
 warmed by the Gulf Stream. 
 
 The ocean ever exerts a strange, un definable, fascinating influ 
 ence over my mind. I never tire of watching its ever changing 
 aspects or listening to its soft crooning, its impressive murmur 
 ing, its solemn warning, its mad threatening and its measureless 
 fury. To-day, after enjoying the pleasure of the sea-bathers, I 
 seated myself upon the sand and yielded to the fascinating spell of 
 the ocean, and as the lights and shadows fell upon the waves I was 
 reminded of Victor Hugo s description of the sea, when an exile 
 on the coast of Guernsey, and I felt the kinship of soul and the 
 subtle relation of man to nature as those fine descriptive lines 
 came into my mind in which the poet speaks of the ocean, " with 
 its ebb and flood, the inexorable going and coming, the noise of 
 all the winds, the blackness and translucency peculiar to the 
 deep ; the democracy of the clouds in full hurricane ; the won 
 derful star risings, reflected in mysterious agitation by millions 
 
5*%< 
 A<^ 
 
Winter Ba^s in fflortoa, 119 
 
 of luminous wave-tops confused heads of the multitudinous 
 sea the prodigious sobbings, the half-seen monsters, the nights 
 of darkness broken by howlings ; then the charm, the mildness, 
 the gay white sails, the songs amid the uproar, the mists rising 
 from the shore, the deep blue of sky and water, the useful as 
 perity, the bitter savor which keeps the world wholesome, the 
 harsh salt without which all would putrefy ; that all-in-one, un 
 foreseen, and changeless; the vast marvel of inexhaustibly varied 
 monotony." I know of no finer characterization of the varying 
 moods of the ocean than these graphic lines ; and if one is seated 
 upon the beach or in view of the sea their full force comes home 
 to the brain in an indescribably vivid manner. 
 
 The beach, which extends along the Halifax Peninsula in one 
 unbroken stretch for over twenty miles, is destined to be one of 
 the most famous in the Western World. It is one long, contin 
 uous slope of smooth, white sand, so firmly packed by the incom 
 ing and outgoing waves that along the lower slopes it is almost 
 as firm as an asphalt pavement, and thus affords unsurpassed 
 facilities for driving and bicycling. At high tide, and especially 
 after the sea has been rough, numerous many-tinted shells, from 
 the nautilus and conch to the tiny sea clams, whose many tinted 
 protecting cases are not unlike two petals of a dahlia s blossom, are 
 strewn along the line which marks the water s highest limit; but 
 below, the sand is smooth and firm. Early dawn, the reflected 
 glory of the sunsets, the moonlight effects, and the mystery which 
 ever seems a part of the darkness of the deep are never-ending 
 sources of pure delight to all artistic natures. I have seen 
 nothing which equalled the splendor of the ocean and sky at 
 such times, except at Ostend on the North Sea. 
 
 But, while speaking of sunsets, I cannot forbear mentioning 
 the gorgeous panoramas which I have witnessed almost nightly 
 on the Halifax River. Here in the foreground we have the tall 
 palmettos, so thoroughly tropical in their appearance, and the 
 gaunt live-oaks, draped in southern moss, very beautiful, but pre 
 senting a somewhat weird appearance. Beyond lies the river, 
 smooth as glass and half a mile in width, and on the further 
 side the forests of palmetto, oak, pine and other trees, inter 
 spersed with villas, and behind that the flame of the setting sun, 
 varied from time to time with marvellous cloud effects ; the 
 wonderful reflections in the water, iridescent and luminous, re 
 vealing various shades of russet and gold, scarlet and crimson, 
 silver and blue, all combine to make scenes of beauty so 
 entirely transcending words that in their presence one desires 
 silence, that the mind may yield to the exquisite pleasure and 
 feel the mystic spell of the divine, inspired by these matchless 
 symphonies of color. 
 
Winter 2>aps in ffiorifca. 123 
 
 The sea-beach opposite Halifax, and due east of Daytona, 
 affords delightful bathing all the year round. I noticed through 
 February that the waters which are warmed by the Gulf Stream 
 were of a delightful temperature, far warmer than I have known 
 the Atlantic even in midsummer on the Massachusetts coast; 
 and many persons availed themselves of the opportunities for 
 surf-bathing. But this is an all-the-year-round beach ; it is rap 
 idly becoming the most popular summer resort for Floridans of 
 means. For at Halifax, Sea Breeze and Silver Beach, which 
 extend along the Peninsula opposite Daytona, not only is the 
 bathing all that could be desired, but the breezes from the ocean 
 and the river keep the atmosphere delightfully tempered in summer 
 and render the nights invariably cool and refreshing. This is the 
 universal testimony of all who have summered here. 
 
 A very interesting colony of liberal-minded thinkers is being 
 established at Halifax, under the direct auspices of Helen Wil- 
 man Post, the well-known leader of the evolutionary school of 
 metaphysical thinkers; Mr. C. C. Post, the able author of 
 " Driven from Sea to Sea," " Congressman Swanson," and other 
 thoughtful social and economic studies ; and Mr. C. A. Ballough, 
 a fine large-hearted nature, whose sincerity and frankness are only 
 equalled by his passion for justice. These people are building 
 what will probably some day be known as the " City Beautiful," 
 with broad avenues and boulevards, made hard with shells, 
 grassed on either side and lined with palmettos and other sub 
 tropical trees. The experiment is unique, and will, I believe, re 
 sult in bringing to this wonderfully favored spot many men and 
 women of culture and refinement, whose taste and means will 
 further beautify the place, which is inviting in summer and winter 
 alike, and upon which nature has bestowed so much in the way 
 of beauty and attractiveness. 
 
 Daytona lies one mile from the ocean, on the west bank of the 
 Halifax. It is reached from the beach by fine shell drivewaj^s 
 which cross the half mile of thePeninsula,andtwo bridges which 
 span the river. Of Daytona it is difficult to say too much when 
 describing the beauty of the place. I have never seen a town 
 of like size which impressed me as being so beautiful. Its 
 houses, for the most part, evince excellent taste. They are 
 modern, and are kept well-painted and in first-class repair. In 
 these respects it contrasts most favorably with the majority of 
 Southern towns; and its streets and some of the roads lead 
 ing from the town are made of marl or shells and consequently 
 are smooth and hard. A strip of land grassed and carpeted with 
 wild flowers extends between the street- way and the sidewalk, and 
 along these are planted palms, live-oaks, magnolia and other ever 
 green trees. I know of no boulevard more bewitchingly beauti- 
 
THE PALMETTO IX BLOSSOM. 
 
Wfrxter Bass in fflorifca, 127 
 
 ful than Ridgewood Avenue in Daytona, with its great live-oaks, 
 heavily draped in Southern moss, its palmettos, magnolias and 
 other varieties of semi-tropical trees, which form a deeply shaded 
 vista, while on either side are beautiful and well-kept homes. 
 Volusia Avenue, and indeed all the streets excepting Beach, 
 where at present extensive improvements are being made on the 
 water front, are models of neatness and as beautiful as they are 
 striking to the Northern eye, unaccustomed to tropical vege 
 tation. 
 
 Before closing this paper I must say a word about the flow 
 ers and fruits for which Florida is justly noted. The varieties 
 of flowering trees and shrubs, as magnolia, orange, palmetto 
 and oleander, are very numerous, and though the sands of this 
 state are unfriendly to most kinds of grasses, it can truthfully 
 be said that they favor the multitudinous flowers of many colors 
 and gorgeous hues which flourish in wood and field. On the 
 Halifax Peninsula the chief fruits have been the orange, lime, 
 lemon, grape-fruit, citrons, kumquat, guava, mulberry, Japanese 
 plums, strawberries, mulberries, peaches, pears and grapes. 
 Some pineapples and bananas are also raised here, but these 
 flourish better further south, where are found in abundance the 
 cocoanut and bread-fruit. 
 
 Florida has been frequently termed the Italy of America. I 
 do not think the points of resemblance are sufficient to warrant 
 the appellation. Both lands are peninsulas, extending south 
 ward; each can lay claim to a mild and genial climate, pro 
 tected from the severity of the northern blasts, and tempered in 
 summer by the ocean breezes; each can boast of being the home 
 of the citron family and other semi-tropical fruits ; but when we 
 come to note the points of difference between the peninsula 
 which has so largely moulded our present civilization and our 
 own Land of Flowers, I think we shall find far more instances 
 in which they are radically unlike than those in which there is 
 any substantial likeness. Yet each holds charms peculiar to it 
 self, and, with regard to Florida, I think it is safe to say that 
 in spite of her recent disaster her star is rising. 
 
 I will close this sketch with a charming little poem written 
 by Mr. C. C. Post and entitled 
 
 MOONLIGHT OX THE HALIFAX. 
 
 Night on the river. The moon rides high. 
 The sea-breeze whispers, the pine trees sigh, 
 
 The reeds on the river banks are aquiver. 
 And the clouds are like dreams in the moonlit sky. 
 A girdle of diamonds in silver set. 
 Crossed and broidered with bands of jet, 
 From the other shore where the palm-trees stand 
 Is clasped at my feet by the shining sand. 
 
l- LOWKHS OF I LOIUOA. TIIK OKANGK BLOSSOM. 
 
FLOWERS OF FLORIDA. MAGNOLIA IJLOSSO.MS. 
 
130 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 And over the waters of silver and jet, 
 And between the banks where the palm-trees rise, 
 Float other clouds, like the clouds in the skies 
 
 Float white-winged boats with their light sails set. 
 
 And lovers clasp hands neath the white sails set, 
 And loves are told, and a beautiful dream 
 Of life afloat on love s beautiful stream 
 
 Is dreamed, as they sail through the silver and jet. 
 
 And I say it is well that the moon rides high; 
 Well that fleecy clouds fleck the moonlit sky; 
 That the river is banded, with diamonds set, 
 Embossed and embroidered in silver and jet; 
 Well that tall palms on its banks arise; 
 Well that the pine tree whispers and sighs; 
 That the tide lifts up, with its furtherest reach, 
 Its lips, to the shells on the shining beach; 
 That lovers, afloat on its waters, seem 
 Forever afloat on love s beautiful stream 
 And tis well that I sit by the river and dream. 
 
IReligions Gbougbt in Colonial Z>a\>0 as fllMr= 
 rorefc in poetry ant> Song, 
 
 THE transition of religious thought from the austere 
 severity of the Reformation and the unquestioning ac 
 ceptance of papal authority, which marked a still earlier 
 period, to the broad and truly catholic principles of moral 
 government enunciated in the Sermon on the Mount, is 
 becoming more and more pronounced with the passage of 
 each succeeding decade. But so gradual has been the drift 
 ing that a vast majority of thoughtful people within the 
 pales of the Church are scarcely conscious of the change ; 
 much less do they appreciate how surely the still small voice 
 from the nameless mount in Galilee is overpowering the 
 thunderous tones of Nicsea in Bithynia, which for more 
 than fifteen centuries have controlled Christendom. Indeed, 
 this grand transformation is being accomplished so naturally 
 and so steadily that it is only at intervals, when some 
 great divine in a popular church dares to think aloud, and 
 voice that which is felt in the inmost soul of thoughtful 
 people, that a ripple is caused on the placid water a ripple 
 which extends from mind to mind in an ever-broadening 
 circle ; as, for example, when so eminent a churchman as 
 Canon Farrar declares in favor of restoration ; a master 
 brain like Professor Briggs announces that man may find 
 God through the Bible, the Church, or through REASON; 
 when a leading divine like Dr. Lyman Abbott pronounces in 
 favor of Evolution ; or yet, again, when a great church like 
 the Methodist, after a severe battle for the infallibility of 
 New Testament inspiration, relegates the Pauline injunction 
 respecting women to its proper place among the dead and 
 outgrown ideas of ancient Grecian thought. At such inter 
 vals as these, religious circles are for a time more or less 
 convulsed; but a few years vanish, and the disturbers are 
 canonized. Meanwhile humanity continues a steady, unin 
 terrupted ascent. 
 
 131 
 
132 persons, places auo Ufceas. 
 
 The spiritual growth of our people reminds me of a trav 
 eller, journeying from the sea toward some lofty mountain 
 range ; for many miles the ascent is so gradual that he is 
 unconscious of any material rise. After passing a few low 
 hill ranges he is aroused to the fact that he is rising materi 
 ally above the wave-washed lowlands. It is not, however, 
 until he turns toward the sea, and casts a glance into the 
 far distance, that the fact that the ocean is many thousands 
 of feet below him, dawns on his mind. In like manner, so 
 gradual, so natural, so irresistible have been the complex and 
 multitudinous causes which have lifted Christian thought to 
 a higher and diviner plane that it is only by examining 
 ancient landmarks that we can fully appreciate the progress 
 which has been made. Perhaps nothing will better illustrate 
 this fact than poetry and hymnology of the past, and no 
 spot affords a more striking illustration of this evolution of 
 Christian thought than New England. The hymns which 
 were sung with great fervor and feeling two hundred years 
 ago, and the poetry which found greatest favor with the 
 stern, Puritanical spirit of that age, thrills the average 
 Christian of to-day with horror ; and it is difficult for him 
 to believe that any considerable number of persons ever 
 believed that at the helm of the universe stood a Being 
 so relentlessly despotic, so cruelly savage as the God our 
 fathers most devoutly worshipped and in whom they had 
 most implicit faith. Poems exceedingly popular among 
 ultra-religionists two centuries ago, would be branded impious 
 and sacrilegious by almost all Christians to-day, as will be 
 readily seen when we examine some specimens of the poetry 
 and sacred songs which were not only current but exceed 
 ingly popular. 
 
 One of the most famous clergymen who flourished in 
 Massachusetts in the latter half of the seventeenth century 
 was Rev. Michael Wigglesworth, a graduate of Harvard 
 University and the author of numerous widely read theolog 
 ical works in prose and poetry. His most celebrated poetical 
 work was entitled " The Day of Doom," u a poem of the 
 last judgment." The first edition of this work consisted 
 of eighteen hundred copies, which wa exhausted within 
 a year of its publication ; something very remarkable when 
 it is remembered that books were rare in those days, 
 and New England was sparsely settled. The first edition, 
 
IReli^ious ZTbougbt in Colonial Bass* 
 
 however, was only sufficient to whet the appetites of our 
 colonial fathers. The work reflected perfectly the con 
 ception which a very large number of devout people enter 
 tained of God ; hence edition after edition was quickly sold. 
 Not less than nine editions of this work were sold in New 
 England in early times. It was also twice republished in 
 England. From a commercial point of view it was the most 
 remarkable success in the history of colonial literature, as it 
 is stated that, next to the Bible and the almanac, more copies 
 of " The Day of Doom " were sold than of any other work 
 in colonial times. This success must have rested chiefly on 
 the popularity of the thought contained, as, aside from weird 
 poetic flashes now and then present, the literary quality of 
 the work is far below mediocrity. The book was bound in 
 sheep exactly like the binding employed for Bibles and 
 hymn-books of the period. Each page bore marginal notes, 
 giving the passages of Scripture which suggested the scene 
 described. With these facts in mind, let us examine some 
 verses from the poem. In the opening lines Mr. Wiggles- 
 worth describes the Judgment Day : 
 
 Before his throne a trump is blown, 
 
 Proclaiming the day of doom : 
 Forthwith he cries, " Ye dead arise, 
 
 And unto the judgment come." 
 No sooner said, but tis obeyed; 
 
 Sepulchres opened are: 
 Dead bodies all rise at his call, 
 
 And s mighty power declare. 
 
 The saved are then judged, or rather their salvation is thus 
 described : 
 
 My sheep draw near, your sentence hear, which is to you no dread, 
 Who clearly now discern, and know your sins are pardoned. 
 Twas meet that ye should judged be, that so the world may spy 
 No cause of grudge, when as I judge and deal impartially. 
 Know therefore all, both great and small, the ground and reason why 
 These men do stand at my right hand, and look so cheerfully. 
 These men be those my Father chose before the world s foundation, 
 And to me gave, that I should save from death and condemnation. 
 
 The elect having thus been disposed of, Jesus turns to 
 those who were not of the company chosen for Him by God 
 before " the world s foundation." After dealing with various 
 classes of sinners in a manner which might well excite the 
 envy of an Oriental despot whose heart had long been steeled 
 
134 persons, places anfc 1Ifceas. 
 
 against all the divine emotions, Christ proceeds to judge 
 those whose lives had been pure, holy, honest and upright, 
 but whose greatness of soul had rendered it impossible for 
 them to grovel before a God represented by His most zealous 
 followers as infinitely more brutal and cruel than the worst 
 man born of woman. The scene described is characteristic of 
 the thought of the age, and when reading it one ceases to 
 wonder that -witches were Imng in Salem, or that Roger 
 Williams was banished from the Massachusetts Colony ; for 
 a firm belief in such a God would naturally inspire persecu 
 tion. This is the picture as seen through the poetical 
 spectacles of the reverend gentleman : 
 
 Then were brought nigh a company of civil, honest men 
 
 That loved true dealing, and hated stealing, ne er wrong d their 
 
 brethren ; 
 
 Who pleaded thus, " Thou knowest us that we were blameless livers; 
 No whoremongers, no murderers, no quarrellers nor strivers." 
 
 Jesus admits that they have been all they claim, but 
 proceeds : 
 
 And yet that part, whose great desert you think to reach so far 
 For your excuse, doth you accuse, and will your boasting mar. 
 However fair, however square your way and work hath been, 
 Before men s eyes, yet God espies iniquity therein. 
 You much mistake, if for their sake you dream of acceptation: 
 Whereas the same deserveth shame and meriteth damnation. 
 
 This picture of infinite injustice, however, pales into in 
 significance before what follows. Dr. Wigglesworth had a 
 case to make out; it was a bad case; it outraged every 
 instinct of justice and love in the fibre of manhood, but he 
 had the audacity bravely to face the issue ; and though we 
 cannot praise his logic, we are forced to admire his courage. 
 This is the fate he describes awaiting millions of little buds 
 of humanity who passed from life in infancy : 
 
 Then to the bar, alLthey drew near who dy d in infancy, 
 
 And never had or good or bad effected pers nally. 
 
 But from the womb unto the tomb were straightway carried, 
 
 Or at the last e er they transgrest who thus began to plead: 
 
 If for our own transgression, or disobedience, 
 
 We here did stand at thy left hand, just were the recompense; 
 
 But Adam s guilt our souls hath spilt, his fault is charg d on us: 
 
 And that alone hath overthrown, and utterly undone us. 
 
 Not we, but he ate of the tree, whose fruit was interdicted: 
 
 Yet on us all of his sad fall, the punishment s inflicted. 
 
Ubou^bt in Colonial H>ass. 135 
 
 How could we sin that had not been, or how is his sin our 
 Without consent, which to prevent, we never had a pow r ? 
 
 great Creator, why was our nature depraved and forlorn ? 
 Why so defil d, and made so vil d whilst we were yet unborn? 
 Behold we see Adam set free, and sav d from his trespass, 
 Whose sinful fall hath spilt us all, and brought us to this pass. 
 Canst thou deny us once to try, or grace to us to tender, 
 
 When he finds grace before thy face, that was the chief offender? 
 
 Jesus is then represented as replying in the following 
 language : 
 
 What you call old Adam s fall, and only his trespass, 
 You call amiss to call it his, both his and yours it was. 
 He was design d of all mankind, to be a publick head, 
 A common root, whence all should shoot, and stood in all their stead. 
 He stood and fell, did ill or well, not for himself alone, 
 But for you all, who now his fall, and trespass would disown. 
 If he had stood, then all his brood, had been established 
 In God s true love never to move, nor once awry to tread: 
 Would you have griev d to have receiv d through Adam so much good, 
 As had been your for evermore, if he at first had stood ? 
 Since then to share in his welfare, you could have been content, 
 You may with reason share in his treason, and in -the punishment. 
 You sinners are, and such a share as sinners may expect, 
 Such you shall have; for I do save none but my own elect. 
 Yet to compare your sin with their who liv d a longer time, 
 
 1 do confess yours is much less, though every sin s a crime. 
 A crime it is, therefore in bliss you may not hope to dwell; 
 But unto you I shall allow the easiest room in hell. 
 
 The glorious king thus answering, they cease, and plead no longer: 
 Their consciences must needs confess his reasons are the stronger. 
 
 Having disposed of the sheep and goats, the worthy divine 
 next lingers on the field of victory and despair much as a 
 bee lingers over the honey cup of a fragrant flower. While 
 his observations were intended to illustrate the majesty and 
 vengeance of offended Deity, they cannot be considered 
 complimentary to either the head or heart of Jesus. 
 
 Now what remains, but that to pains and everlasting smart, 
 Christ should condemn the sons of men, which is their just desert; 
 Oh rueful plights of sinful wights! oh wretches all forlorn: 
 T had happy been they ne er had seen the sun, or not been born. 
 Yea, now it would be good they could themselves annihilate, 
 And cease to be, themselves to free from such a fearful state. 
 O happy dogs, and swine and frogs: yea, serpent s generation, 
 Who do not fear this doom to hear, and sentence of damnation I 
 Where tender love men s hearts did move unto a sympathy, 
 And bearing part of others smart in their anxiety; 
 Now such compassion is out of fashion, and wholly laid aside: 
 No friends so near, but saints to hear their sentence can abide, 
 
136 persons, places anfc tlfceas. 
 
 The godly wife conceives no grief, nor can she shed a tear 
 
 For the sad fate of her clear mate, when she his doom doth hear. 
 
 He that was erst a husband pierc d with sense of wife s distress, 
 
 Whose tender heart did bear a part of all her grievances, 
 
 Shall mourn no more as heretofore because of her ill plight; 
 
 Although he see her now to be a damn d forsaken wight. 
 
 The tender mother will own no other of all her numerous brood, 
 
 But such as stand at Christ s right hand acquitted through his blood. 
 
 The pious father had now much rather his graceless son should lie 
 
 In hell with devils, for all his evils, burning eternally, 
 
 Than God most high should injury, by sparing him sustain; 
 
 And doth rejoice to hear Christ s voice adjudging him to pain. 
 
 Who having all both great and small, convinc d and silenced, 
 
 Did then proceed their doom to read, and thus it uttere d. 
 
 Ye sinful wights, and cursed sprites, that work iniquity, 
 
 Depart together from me forever to endless misery; 
 
 Your portion take in yonder lake, where fire and brimstone flameth: 
 
 Suffer the smart, which your desert as its due wages claimeth. 
 
 What? to be sent to punishment, and flames of burning fire, 
 
 To be surrounded, and eke confounded with God s revengeful ire! 
 
 What? to abide, not for a tide these torments, but forever: 
 
 To be released, or to be eased, not after years, but never. 
 
 Oh fearful doom! now there s no room for hope or help at all: 
 
 Sentence is past which aye shall last, Christ will not it recall. 
 
 There might you hear them rend and tear the air with their outcries : 
 
 The hideous noise of their sad voice ascendeth to the skies. 
 
 They wring their hands, their caitiff hands, and gnash their teeth for 
 
 terrour; 
 They cry, they roar for anguish sore, and gnaw their tongues for 
 
 horrour. 
 
 But get away without delay, Christ pities not your cry: 
 Depart to hell, there may you yell, and roar eternally. 
 Dy fain they would, if dy they could, but death will not be had. 
 God s direful wrath their bodies hath for ev r immortal made. 
 But who can tell the plagues of hell, 
 
 The lightest pain they there sustain more than intolerable. 
 But God s great pow r from hour to hour upholds them in the fire, 
 That they shall not consume a jot, nor by its force expire. 
 
 Can the imagination of enlightened man in this day con 
 ceive anything more ferociously barbarous and inhuman or 
 unjust than this picture of the judgment and yet the phe 
 nomenal success of this poem is a most eloquent commen 
 tary on the attitude of religious thought in Massachusetts 
 in the seventeenth century, and enables us better to under 
 stand a public sentiment which tolerated the Blue Laws or 
 permitted cruel religious persecution. The hymns of this 
 age were also in perfect touch with this frightful system of 
 thought; and though the progress of eliminating those 
 
1Reli3ious Ubougbt In Colonial Ba^s, 137 
 
 which voiced the most savage and brutal conception has 
 been steadily carried on as humanity grew in intelligence 
 and enlightenment, and as the diviner instinct became more 
 potent, it has not been long since hymns which any wise and 
 loving Deity might reasonably regard as blasphemous were 
 sung with great zeal by those who believed they were the 
 very elect of heaven. I have in my possession two volumes 
 of Dr. Watts hymns, edited by Rev. Samuel Worcester, 
 D.D., and Samuel M. Worcester, A.M. one published in 
 1850, the other in 1853 by Crocker and Brewster of Boston, 
 which well illustrate the tenacity with which the savage 
 conception of God held its place in the Church. In these 
 volumes we find hymns breathing forth hate in every line ; 
 hymns in which the singers are represented as craven, in 
 sane and terrified culprits, striving to appease a relentlessly 
 cruel God, uttering fulsome flattery in one breath and dilat 
 ing on His infinite vengeance in the next. To the thought 
 ful reader at the present time, these hymns seem more like 
 the incoherent ravings of madmen than the utterances of 
 sane reasoning beings. Indeed, it is a marvel to me that 
 all who possessed loving hearts and active brains, and who 
 believed in this nightmare of eternal despair, did not be 
 come madmen. Take, for example, the following : 
 
 My thoughts on awful subjects roll, 
 
 Damnation and the dead ; 
 What horrors seize the guilty soul, 
 
 Upon a dying bed. 
 
 Ling ring about these mortal shores, 
 
 She makes a long delay; 
 Till, like a flood with rapid force, 
 
 Death sweeps the wretch away. 
 
 Then, swift and dreadful she descends 
 
 DcHvn to the fiery coast, 
 Amongst abominable fiends, 
 
 Herself a frighted ghost. 
 
 There endless crowds of sinners 7ze, 
 
 And darkness makes their chains: 
 Tortur d with keen despair, they cry; 
 
 Yet wait for fiercer pains. 
 
 Xot all their anguish and their blood 
 
 For their old guilt atones ; 
 Xor the compassion of a God 
 
 Shall hearken to their groans . 
 
138 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 Here is another companion hymn : 
 
 With holy fear, and humble song, 
 The dreadful God our souls adore; 
 llev rence and awe become the tongue, 
 That speaks the terrors of His power. 
 Far in the deep, where darkness dwells, 
 The land of horror and despair, 
 Justice has built a dismal hell, 
 And laid her stores of vengeance there. 
 
 Eternal plagues and heavy chains, 
 Tormenting racks and fiery coals, 
 And darts, 1 inflict immortal pains, 
 Dy d in the blood of damned souls. 
 There Satan, the first sinner, lies, 
 And roars, and bites his iron bands; 
 In vain the rebel strives to rise, 
 Crushed with the weight of both thy hands. 
 
 Their guilty ghosts of Adam s race 
 Shriek out, and howl beneath thy rod: 
 Once they could scorn a Saviour s grace, 
 But they incens d a dreadful God. 
 Tremble, my soul, and kiss the Son: 
 Sinner, obey thy Saviour s call; 
 Else your damnation hastens on, 
 And hell gapes wide to wait your fall. 
 
 Below, the pious author of a once popular hymn, found in 
 the collection before referred to, gives us a graphic pen pict 
 ure of God as seen by his mental vision : 
 
 His nostrils breathe out fiery streams; 
 
 And, from his awful tongue, 
 A sovereign voice divides the flames, 
 
 And thunder rolls along. 
 
 Think, O my soul, the dreadful day, 
 
 When this incensed God 
 Shall rend the sky, and burn the sea, 
 
 And fling his wrath abroad ! 
 
 What shall the wretch, the sinner do ? 
 
 He once defied the Lord! 
 But he shall dread the Thunderer now, 
 
 And sink beneath his word. 
 
 Tempests of angry fire shall roll, 
 
 To blast the rebel worm, 
 And beat upon his naked soul 
 
 In one eternal storm. 
 
1Relt0ious UbouGbt in Colonial Baps, 139 
 
 Original sin and the degradation of manhood, the direct 
 opposite of the incoming religious thought of to-day, were 
 favorite themes with the hymnologist of other days. Let 
 us imagine our great congregations of to-day singing the 
 following : 
 
 Backward, with humble shame we look 
 
 On our original; 
 How is our nature dashed, and broke, 
 
 In our first father s fall! 
 
 To all that s good averse, and blind, 
 
 And prone to all that s ill ; 
 What dreadful darkness veils our mind! 
 
 How obstinate our will ! 
 
 Conceived in sin, O wretched state, 
 
 Before we draw our breath, 
 The first young pulse begins to beat 
 
 Iniquity and death. 
 
 How strong in our degenerate blood 
 
 The old corruption reigns! 
 And mingling with the crooked flood, 
 
 Wanders through all our veins! 
 
 Wild and unwholesome, as the root, 
 
 Will all the branches be : 
 How can we hope for living fruit, 
 
 From such a deadly tree ? 
 
 What mortal power, from things unclean 
 
 Can pure productions bring ? 
 Who can command a vital stream, 
 
 From an infected spring ? 
 
 These examples of the poetry which enjoyed wonderful 
 popularity, and voiced the austere religious thought of 
 colonial days, may help us to appreciate the ocean-wide 
 expanse between the dominant religious thought at the time 
 when Cotton Mather delivered his eulogy over the body of 
 Rev. Michael Wigglesworth and the present, when the pas 
 tor of the most famous Congregational church in America 
 declares in favor of evolution, and a learned professor in 
 one of the greatest Presbyterian theological colleges pub 
 licly affirms that men can no longer shut their eyes to the 
 fact that " the Bible contains errors which no man has been 
 able to explain away * and also that there are three sources 
 
 * Inaugural address by C. A. Briggs, on authority of the Holy Scriptures. Charles 
 Scribners Sons. 
 
140 persons, places anfc Hfceas, 
 
 or fountains of divine authority, " The Bible, the Church, 
 and Reason." So gradually, however, has this wonderful 
 evolution taken place, and so multitudinous have been the 
 educational agencies which have steadily lifted man into a 
 higher sphere of thought, that it is only when we examine 
 the history and literature of a vanished age that we are able 
 to appreciate the progress which has been accomplished, or 
 properly appreciate the spirit of the past. Religion is evolv 
 ing as is humanity. What was orthodoxy yesterday is blas 
 phemy to-day. What is heterodoxy to-day is orthodoxy to 
 morrow. The history of religious evolution is a tedious and 
 often disheartening narrative, and so also is the story of 
 life s evolution and the rise of man from the savagery of 
 Central Africa to the development of a Hugo ; but the story 
 in each instance is inspiring, for the trend is upward. The 
 star goes before. The road ever leads to higher altitude. 
 Jesus came, a luminous life, radiant with love, rich in divine 
 pity, and strong in moral grandeur ; but His simple teaching 
 soon became mazed in Grecian philosophical and metaphor 
 ical thought and colored with the many-hued opinions of the 
 Roman world. Doubtless this was owing to the fact that 
 humanity was not yet ready for the divinely simple code of 
 ethics which Jesus lived as well as taught. The idea of 
 human brotherhood, which was a central principle in His 
 teachings, and which was nowhere better exemplified than 
 in His life, has had small influence over the world, but to 
 day it is taking hold of the hearts of the thinking millions 
 as never before. Literature is rife with the thought. It 
 may be said to be the dream of the millions ; and the very 
 presence of this dream as much as aught else affords a rea 
 son for the unrest and discontent of the age, which chafes 
 under galling bonds, the injustice and inhumanity of which 
 were not appreciated until this divine ideal came into the 
 lives of the people. Some good people to-day yearn for the 
 religious atmosphere of colonial days, seeing in them only 
 the enchantment and glamour which distance not infre 
 quently lends to scenes rugged, harsh and revolting, and not 
 reflecting that religious thought of the kind and character 
 which inspired our fathers, naturally gave birth to narrow 
 ness, bigotry, intolerance and persecution. Indeed, to-day 
 among those who are now giving their attention to the out 
 side of the " cup and platter," and who seek to restore the 
 
Ubougbt in Colonial 
 
 ancient Sabbath, we see the same spirit of persecution and 
 determination to force every one to boiv to their conception of 
 what is right which enthralled human thought, crushed 
 human rights, destroyed human happiness, and checked the 
 march of progress and intellectual development for genera 
 tions. It may have been necessary for humanity to pass 
 through this dark stage in her development ; but to attempt 
 to resurrect the past and mingle its spirit with the present, 
 would be to chain a corpse to the living, to make turbid the 
 clear flowing stream of pure religion by injecting into its 
 limpid waves the blood-dyed current of a savage and unde 
 veloped past. The new conception of religion is grandly noble. 
 It holds as a cardinal truth the doctrine of human brotherhood. 
 It squares all things by absolute justice. There is no old-time 
 terror in its glance as it peers into the future, and even if at 
 times it doubts, it does not dread ; it is established in the con 
 viction that the trend of life is upward. If God is love, and 
 if God is spirit, He will draw all souls by the magnetic at 
 traction of love unto His own pure heights, as the sun calls 
 from the ground the budding plant and by its wonderfully 
 subtle power calls from it stores of wealth in bloom and fruit. 
 It recognizes every law based on absolute and unswerving 
 justice, and expects no miraculous interposing to save any 
 man from the result of sin, crime, or vice, which it holds to 
 be as inevitable as the law which holds in place the plane 
 tary system ; but it eliminates all Oriental ideas of a venge 
 ful despot controlling a world of eternal torment awaiting 
 any soul who may have in his being the germ of immortal 
 life. The new idea is leavening society; but to-day, as in 
 the days of Jesus, it is most potent outside the temples of con 
 servatism. It appeals to the common people and to the intel 
 lectually emancipated with irresistible force ; while those who 
 are enslaved within the walls of form, rite and conventional 
 ism, and they who to-day correspond to the Scribes and 
 Pharisees of Jesus time vainly attempt to stay its onward 
 sweep. The forces which are working for the new ideals in 
 religion are as numerous as they are resistless. They will 
 triumph in the coming day, and in their triumph we shall see 
 a higher and truer civilization than has yet visited the world 
 a civilization in which ethics will be married to intelli 
 gence, and LOVE instead of craft will pulse through the soul 
 of enlightened man. 
 
Some Social flbeals 1bel> b\> IDictor Ibucjo, 
 
 FOE many generations to come the writings of Victor Hugo 
 will inspire man in his struggle for a larger and truer life, because 
 they are vivified by conscience. They are more than the works 
 of an intellectual genius; the quality of human sympathy is 
 everywhere present, while not infrequently the prophet or seer 
 presents fundamental facts in which the lessons of history and 
 the wisdom which alone can exalt humanity are condensed into 
 a few electric sentences which thrill the heart and burn great 
 truths into the reader s brain. 
 
 All subjects affecting the happiness of man or the elevation of 
 the race were as personal to Hugo as though they vitally con 
 cerned his dearest friend. Thus when the news reached Europe, 
 that sentence of death had been passed on John Brown, the poet 
 was affected as though his own son had been condemned. He im 
 mediately wrote an appeal for the prisoner s pardon, as eloquent 
 and prophetic as it was earnest and impressive. In it he uttered 
 these words, which are thoroughly characteristic of the man and 
 his work : " Has a cry of pity time to make itself heard ? It 
 matters not, our duty is to raise our voice." 
 
 On May 13, 1839, while witnessing "La Esmeralda" in a 
 Parisian theatre, word was brought to Hugo that Barbes had been 
 condemned to death for the part he had taken in an insurrection. 
 Hurriedly entering the green room, the poet wrote a few lines to 
 Louis Philippe, making a touching allusion to the death of the 
 little Princess Mary and the recent birth of the Comte de Paris 
 This appeal for the pardon of a fellow-man was as follows : 
 
 Oh, by the child that is gone, fled away like a dove, 
 Oh, by the prince that is born, and claims your sweet love, 
 The tomb and the cradle their messages send, 
 Be gracious! show mercy! and pardon extend. 
 
 The message moved the king to tears, and the petition was 
 granted. 
 
 These illustrations reveal the breadth or universality of the 
 poet s sympathy. Humanity in misery or sorrow ever moved 
 him with that divine mother-love impulse which is the keynote 
 
 142 
 
Social Ufceals of IHictor Ifougo. 143 
 
 in the anthem of humanity s redemption. " Les Miserables" is 
 more than one of the noblest works of fiction which the world 
 possesses, it is a remarkable social study, a prayer for a higher 
 ideal of justice, a heart-cry for a more humane public spirit, a 
 noble picture of the divine in man and of the possible evolution 
 of the child of an adverse fate from an embittered Ishmaelite to 
 the personification of a noble manhood, made luminous by loving 
 self-sacrifice. But Victor Hugo went much farther than merely 
 stating unjust conditions and portraying the actual working of 
 unjust laws. He had an intellectual breadth rare among prophets 
 and reformers, which enabled him fully to appreciate the im 
 portance of employing multitudinous agencies in order to correct 
 the monstrous social evils which exile joy and crush out hope. 
 
 He was not, however, blind to the fact that there are certain 
 broad lines upon which civilization must move if justice, happi 
 ness and progress are to wait upon her footsteps. He knew that 
 tyranny might reside elsewhere than in royal palaces, and that 
 despotism was as fatal to happiness and development if it mani 
 fested itself through a narrow, intolerant popular spirit as if it 
 emanated from a throne. He realized that the brain of man 
 must not be fettered by the slavery of a mediocrity which still 
 worshipped in the graveyard of the past, with its face turned 
 away from the dawn. In a word, he saw with prophet vision 
 that, freedom must always be the handmaid of justice; that liberty 
 cannot be exiled from the side of progress if the happiness and 
 the moral and intellectual development of men are to mark the 
 new time which his keen perception clearly discerned, and for 
 the early advent of which he labored with unflagging energy. 
 This truth is of paramount importance at the present time, for 
 civilization is facing a social revolution which will mark a new 
 era for man, provided thoughtful and sincere reformers, who love 
 justice more than they value their lives, are wise enough to see 
 that no threads of a possible despotism enter the fabric of the 
 new social order. This danger was perfectly apparent to Victor 
 Hugo, and he frequently pointed out the all-important truth that 
 lasting progress without freedom is an utter impossibility: 
 
 He who is not free is not a man. He who is not free has no sight, no 
 knowledge, no discernment. Freedom is the apple of the eye, the 
 visual organ of progress, and to attempt, because freedom lias inconven 
 iences and even perils, to produce civilization without it, would be like 
 attempting to cultivate the ground without the sun. 
 
 In the presence of the grave social wrongs which oppress the 
 people on every hand, there is danger that shallow expediency 
 may at times come between the public and the ideal of progress 
 which is waited upon by freedom no less than justice; and this 
 can be averted only by holding firmly to those things which are 
 
144 persons, places au& 
 
 so fundamentally right that they compass the full requirements 
 of justice without destroying the free development of the indi 
 vidual. Victor Hugo, though one of the most ardent and radical 
 social reformers of his day, uttered a solemn note of warning 
 along this line thirty years ago. He pointed out the danger lurk 
 ing in the theories of a school of socialistic thinkers who went to 
 the barrack for a pattern of government, instead of recognizing 
 the root source of social misery and removing it by the estab 
 lishment of just conditions, while guarding liberty and fostering 
 individual development. On this point, which impresses me as 
 being of transcendent importance, he made the following thought 
 ful observations, thus setting forth his conception of true social 
 ism and avowing himself to be a socialist * : 
 
 What an aim to construct the people! Principles combined with 
 science, all possible quantity of the absolute introduced by degrees into 
 the fact, Utopia treated successively by every mode of realization by 
 political economy, by philosophy, by physics, by chemistry, by dynamics, 
 by logic, by art; union gradually replacing antagonism, and unity re 
 placing union; for religion, God, for priest,the father, for prayer, virtue, 
 for field, the whole earth, for language, the word, for law,the right, for 
 motive-power, duty, for hygiene,labor, for economy, universal peace, tor 
 canvas, the very life, for the goal, progress, for authority, freedom, for 
 people the man. Such is the simplification. And at the summit the 
 ideal. The ideal! stable type of ever-moving progress. 
 
 The transformation of the crowd into the people profound task! 
 It is to this labor that the men called socialists have devoted themselves 
 during the last forty years. The author of this book, however insignifi 
 cant he may be, is one of the oldest in this labor. " The Last Day of a 
 Condemned Prisoner" dates from 1828, and "Claude Geux" from 1834. 
 If he claims his place among these philosophers it is because it is a 
 place of persecution. A certain hatred of socialism, very blind but very 
 general, has raged for fifteen or sixteen years, and is still raging most 
 bitterly among the influential classes. Let it not be forgotten that true 
 socialism has for its end the elevation of the masses to the civic dignity, 
 and that, therefore, its principal care is for moral and intellectual culti 
 vation. The first hunger is ignorance; socialism wishes, then, above all, 
 to instruct. That does not hinder socialism from being calumniated 
 and socialists from being denounced. To most of the infuriated trem 
 blers who have the public ear at the present moment, these reformers 
 are public enemies; they are guilty of everything that has gone wrong. 
 ***** 
 
 Certain social theories, very distinct from socialism as we understand 
 it and desire it, have gone astray. Let us discard all that resembles the 
 convent, the barrack, the cell and the straight line. To give a new shape 
 to the evil is not a useful task. To remodel the old slavery would be stupid. 
 Let the nations of Europe beware of a despotism made anew from mate 
 rials which to some extent they have themselves supplied. Such a 
 thing, cemented with a special philosophy, might easily endure. We 
 have mentioned the theorists some of them otherwise upright and 
 sincere who, through fear of a dispersion of activities and energies, 
 
 * These quotations are taken from different parts of Victor Hugo s wonderful work 
 " William Shakespeare," an excellent translation of which has been made by Prof. M. 
 B. Anderson and published by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 111. 
 
Social flfceals ot tHictor Ibucjo, 145 
 
 and of what they call "anarchy," have arrived at an almost Chinese 
 acceptance of absolute social centralization. They turn their resigna 
 tion into a doctrine. Provided man eats and drinks, all is right. The 
 happiness of the beast is the solution. But this is a happiness which 
 others might call by a different name. 
 
 We dream for nations something besides a felicity made up solely of 
 obedience. The bastinado sums up that sort of felicity for the Turkish 
 fellah, the knout for the Russian serf, and the cat-o -nine-tails for the 
 English soldier. Let these involuntary philosophers of a possible despot 
 ism reflect that to indoctrinate the masses against freedom, to allow appe 
 tite and fatalism to get a hold upon the minds of men, to saturate them 
 ivith materialism and expose them to the results this would be to under 
 stand progress in the fashion of that worthy man who applauded a new 
 gibbet and exclaimed, "Excellent! We have had till now only an old 
 wooden gallows; but times have changed for the better, and here we 
 are with a good stone gibbet, which will do for our children and our 
 grandchildren! " 
 
 The issue involved is so momentous that the profound truths 
 uttered in this warning should receive that calm, thoughtful con 
 sideration which characterizes true statesmanship and marks the 
 prophet who is also a philosopher. 
 
 While pleading eloquently for breadth and a due appreciation 
 of liberty when reformers sought to bring about a wider measure 
 of justice, Victor Hugo recognized the necessity for a union of 
 those who loved humanity, truth and progress, against en 
 throned and soulless conservatism. " At the point now reached 
 by the social question," he exclaims, "all action should be in 
 common. Isolated forces frustrate one another. The hour has 
 struck for hoisting the All for all. " Another thought impres 
 sively presented by our author was the sacred trust imposed by 
 duty upon high-thinking men and women. There are those in 
 life to-day who much resemble the hyena, the tiger, the fox, the 
 vulture and the cormorant. There are others who are drones in 
 the hive of life. Perhaps we cannot reach these persons by 
 appeals to conscience any more than we can the spaniels who 
 fawn at the feet of avarice, but men and Avomen of conscience 
 will find themselves thrilled by these noble words : 
 
 To live is to have justice, truth, reason, devotion, probity, sincerity, 
 common sense, right and duty welded to the heart. To live is to know 
 what one is worth, what one can do and should do. Life is con 
 science. . . . 
 
 There is something beyond satisfying one s appetite. The goal of 
 man is not the goal of the animal. A moral lift is necessary. The life 
 of nations, like the life of individuals, has its moments of depression; 
 These moments pass, certainly, but no trace of them ought to remain. 
 Man, at this day, tends to fall into the stomach; man must be replaced 
 in the heart, man must be replaced in the brain. The brain this is the 
 bold sovereign that must be restored ! The social question requires 
 to-day, more than ever, to be examined on the side of human dig 
 nity. . . . 
 
 Thought is power. All power is duty. Should this power enter into 
 repose in our age ? Should duty shut its eyes ? And is the moment 
 
146 persons, places aufc Ufceas* 
 
 come for art to disarm ? Less than ever. . . . The human caravan has 
 reached a high plateau; and, the horizon being vaster, art has more to 
 do. This is all. To every widening of the horizon, an enlargement of 
 conscience corresponds. We have not reached the goal. Concord con 
 densed into felicity, civilization summed up in harmony that is yet 
 far off. ... 
 
 Great is he who consecrates himself! Even \vhen overcome he re 
 mains serene, and his misfortune is happiness. Xo, it is not a bad thing 
 for the poet to be brought face to face with duty. Duty has a stern like 
 ness to the ideal. The task of doing one s duty is worth undertaking; 
 truth, honesty, the instruction of the masses, human liberty, manly 
 virtue and conscience these are not things to disdain. Indignation 
 and compassion for the mournful slavery of man are but two sides of the 
 same faculty; those who are capable of wrath are capable of love. To 
 level the tyrant and the slave what a magnificent endeavor ! Now the 
 whole of one side of actual society is tyrant, and all the other is slave. 
 A grim settlement is impending, and it will be accomplished. All 
 thinkers must work with that end in view. 
 
 Consecration of self to the cause of human brotherhood that 
 is the august duty which confronts the awakened conscience. 
 The poet points out the supreme need, and then places the re 
 sponsibility on the individual. This is not pleasant to the self- 
 loving nature. It is easy to place the blame elsewhere, but until 
 each individual has made the great renunciation, until each has 
 striven to the uttermost, by working, by talking, by voting, by 
 writing, and in every way possible, to overthrow present unjust 
 conditions and usher in a new day of peace and concord, of hope, 
 of justice and freedom, a weight of guilt rests on the soul. Duty 
 calls to the conscience. It is the old cry, " Who is on the Lord s 
 side ? " 
 
 Nor is it a time when the responsibility can be shifted. If a 
 thief is robbing your neighbor, you have no right to close your 
 eyes and remain silent ; if a murderer is approaching the bed of 
 a brother man, your conscience is not quit of guilt if you hold 
 your peace; if a virgin is being polluted and there is a possibility 
 that you can save her from contamination, great is your guilt if 
 you refrain. Now those hideous wrongs are daily taking place 
 through the operation of infamously unjust social and economic 
 conditions which can be abolished. And what is more, the vic 
 tims, instead of being three, constitute a mighty commonwealth, 
 made up largely of the world s wealth producers. He who closes 
 his eyes at a tragic moment like the present, when unjust con 
 ditions are driving strong men to suicide, making paupers of 
 thousands, and placing before struggling maidenhood the dread 
 alternative of starvation or prostitution, may well expect to rind 
 blood on his soul when he passes into the to-morrow of life. 
 
 To those who prefer to live rather than to exist, to those who 
 love, dream and aspire, to those who are haunted with an ideal, 
 Victor Hugo delivered a message couched in these burning words, 
 
Social Ufceals of THictor fwgo. 147 
 
 which comprehend a great renunciation the dedication of one 
 self to the service of humanity : 
 
 Let us consecrate ourselves. Let us devote ourselves to the good, to 
 the true, to the just. . . . The function of thinkers in our day is com 
 plex. It is no longer sufficient to think one must love. It is no longer 
 sufficient to think and to love one must act. To think, to love and to 
 act is no longer sufficient one must suffer. . . . The future presses. 
 To-morrow cannot wait. Humanity has not a moment to lose. Quick! 
 quick! let us hasten. The wretched hunger, they thirst, they suffer. 
 Alas! terrible emaciation of the poor human body. There is too much 
 privation, too much poverty, too much immodesty, too much nakedness, 
 too many houses of shame, too many convict prisons, too many tatters, 
 too many defalcations, too many crimes, too much darkness; not enough 
 schools; too many little innocents growing up for evil! The pallet of 
 the poor girl is suddenly covered with silk and lace, and in that is the 
 worst misery; by the side of misfortune there is vice, the one urging on 
 the other. Such a society requires prompt succor. Let us seek out the 
 best. Civilization must march forward; let us test theories, systems, 
 ameliorations, inventions, reforms. 
 
 But before all, above all, let us be lavish of the light. All sanitary 
 purification begins by opening the windows wide. Let us open wide all 
 intellects; let us supply souls with air. Let the human race breathe. 
 Shed abroad hope, sow the ideal, do good. One step after another, 
 horizon after horizon, conquest after conquest: because you have given 
 what you promised, do not hold yourself quit of obligation. To perform 
 is to promise. To-day s dawn pledges the sun for to-morrow. 
 
postering tbe Savage in tbe !)oung* 
 
 SINCE the close of the Civil War, the most advanced and 
 humane minds of the world have looked to the United States to 
 set an example of true civilization, by insisting on the settlement 
 of all international disputes in which the republic was concerned 
 by arbitration, thus emphasizing the supremacy of something 
 higher than the reign of brute force, which disregards the sanctity 
 of human life and tires the most savage instincts in man. 
 
 There were many reasons why it was fitting that the great 
 Republic should enjoy the proud distinction of taking the initia 
 tive in the inauguration of an era of universal peace. We had 
 nothing to fear from Europe, as the great powers are, tiger-like, 
 watching one another. England knows full well that if she should 
 declare war against America, she might expect Russia to execute 
 her generation-long dream of Indian conquest. If Germany felt 
 able to engage us, France would be quick to recover Alsace and 
 Lorraine, and, indeed, no nation which could cope with us would 
 be insane enough to think of engaging in a war with the far 
 away republic, unless our nation occupied such a manifestly un 
 just or indefensible attitude as to bar us from the moral support 
 of civilization. 
 
 In such cases as the Alabama Claims and the Behring Sea 
 question, our government showed the more excellent way, and 
 demonstrated that war is not only unnecessary but that at this 
 stage of civilization it is indefensible. And these great peace 
 victories, which pointed to the realization of a new civilization, 
 were in perfect alignment with the ideals held by the founders of 
 our government. 
 
 After our late war, however, our country passed into a stage of 
 existence as dazzling to the superficial observer as it was ominous 
 to the serious mind a period characterized by the carrying out 
 of vast enterprises, in which, too frequently, the government fur 
 nished a large part of the wealth required, while she permitted 
 monopolies to reap the benefits. An era of class legislation was 
 succeeded by an era of speculation or gambling. Special privi 
 leges, class laws and speculation gave to a few cunning, and often 
 totally unscrupulous men, millions of unearned wealth, and the 
 government entered on a moral decline as humiliating to the 
 
 148 
 
tbe Sapage in tbe Kouno* 149 
 
 patriot as it is melancholy to those who desire to see manhood 
 dignified and emancipated and justice enthroned in the affections 
 of the people. 
 
 The student of history will note with sadness that, as venality 
 began to creep into the halls of state, and as seats which had been 
 honored by uncorrupted patriotism and far-seeing statesmanship 
 were purchased by gold or won by intriguing tricksters, and es 
 pecially as Wall Street and the monopolistic power came to sway 
 more and more influence in shaping legislation and dictating 
 nominations, we began to imitate the despotisms of Europe, not 
 only in building arsenals and armories but by assiduously foster 
 ing the war spirit in our young people. 
 
 This period has been marked also by a rapid decline in the 
 sturdy, self-reliant national spirit which in former days made the 
 republic the wonder and admiration of the world. The old cry, 
 " Let us show the nations of the earth a more excellent way," has 
 been exchanged for the pitiful whine of imbecility, and of late 
 whenever a promising innovation has been proposed the cry has 
 gone forth, " What other nation has tried such an experiment ? " 
 or "Has England, Austria, Germany or France made any similar 
 trial ? " From a republic proud of being a leader in the van of 
 civilization, we have turned imitator. Our nation, by yielding to 
 the corrupt influence of individual, class and corporate interests, 
 has become emasculated, a condition which has grown more and 
 more apparent with each succeeding year. 
 
 As the decline in the republic of Rome was marked by the rise 
 of the military power, so there has developed a passion for re 
 awakening the savage in man and child by fostering and incul 
 cating the war spirit, as true democracy has more and more given 
 place to plutocracy. That there is method in these things there 
 can be little doubt, although it is probable that few people have 
 stopped to consider the real significance of the rapid growth of 
 armories in our midst. It is not my purpose, however, in this 
 paper to deal with this phase of the question. I desire rather to 
 utter a protest against the iniquitous military drill now being 
 carried on in many of our churches and schools throughout the 
 United States. 
 
 In order to impress this phase of the question on the minds of 
 our readers, I shall notice one of many similar descriptions of 
 military organizations, under the auspices of the church, which 
 have recently been given in fulsome terms by leading daily pa 
 pers. The one I am about to notice contains such headings as 
 the following ; " Properly Uniformed and Armed ; Both Infan 
 try and Artillery Manoeuvres ; Drills and Public Exhibitions 
 Given." Then follows an article which bestows unstinted praise 
 on a rich New York church for fostering the war spirit in the 
 
loo persons, places an& flfceas. 
 
 minds of a number of working boys and seeing that they were 
 supplied with deadly muskets muskets which had already been 
 used for slaughtering human beings. 
 
 It is needless to point out that in this matter the millionaire 
 churches exert an influence over the young very similar to that 
 exercised by the barons over their retainers in the feudal ages. 
 The article to which I refer* describes the formation of a corps 
 of cadets among the working boys of the west side district of 
 New York as a noble and philanthropic move. The cadets are 
 under the protection and support of the Collegiate Reformed 
 Church at Forty-eighth Street and Fifth Avenue, one of the 
 wealthiest churches of Xew York City. This corps of cadets was 
 started by a member of the Fifth Avenue Church of Xew York 
 City, who was also a captain in one of the city regiments. The 
 following extracts from the article in question illustrate most im 
 pressively how this iniquitous work awakens the war spirit and 
 fosters the savage dream of slaughter in the minds of the young. 
 The writer says : 
 
 After looking about very thoroughly for proper arms for the corps, 
 and listening to the boys strong objections to "make believe" wooden 
 guns, very suitable weapons were obtained. They are Burnside carbines 
 bought from the United States Arsenal at Governor s Island. s v special 
 permission from the secretary of war. No small degree of irm for 
 the boys is added by the fact that the very guns they handV vere o ^e 
 used in real fighting. Thev weigh about six pounds and are, therefore, 
 not too heavy for even the smallest soldiers for the cadets range from 
 4 feet 2 inches in height to 5 feet 7 inches. 
 
 All of the other boys of the club not enrolled in the corps are drilled 
 without uniforms, so that as soon as a vacancy occurs a well-trained boy 
 can be put in it. 
 
 He continues thus : 
 
 The company is put through all the military evolutions, in accordance 
 with the regular army tactics; is taught to march and countermarch, to 
 execute many different formations, and to do the whole manual of arms 
 and the bayonet exercise. This last is a particularly pretty drill, not 
 much in use now, but calculated to give the soldier a free use of his 
 weapon and an easy, strong wrist. In a recent entertainment and exhi 
 bition given by the corps at the parent church on Fifth Avenue, this part 
 of their work elicited a great deal of applause. 
 
 In addition to the infantry exercises an artillery drill has been estab- . 
 lished, and a "dummy" or wooden cannon having been built in exact 
 reproduction of a genuine field piece, a squad of nine picked boys from 
 the company have been taught to handle it. They go through the full 
 drill, loading and firing, going into action in every direction, changing 
 the wheels and dismounting the piece by taking the cannon from its 
 carriage and the wheels from the axle, so that it is entirely dismembered, 
 and setting it up again, all with precision, and each cannonier doing his 
 part of the work exactly as regular soldiers are taught to do it. Am 
 bulance and signal corps have also been organized, and during the mock 
 action the former carries off the wounded while the latter signals for 
 assistance. 
 
 * New York Recorder. 
 
fostering tbe Savage in tbe 12oun0. 151 
 
 Here is a further extract taken from the account of a drill 
 given in the rich Fifth Avenue church to raise funds to improve 
 the equipment of this corps of boys, whose minds are being 
 turned by the church from the beauty and happiness of peace 
 and civilization to the dream of human slaughter:-- 
 
 One little boy, the smallest of the lot, and not over four feet two 
 inches tall, went through all the elaborate movements of infantry drill, 
 bayonet exercise and artillery drill without an error, and was the avowed 
 favorite of the ladies. Round after round of applause was showered up 
 on the corps on this occasion, and greatly appreciated by the little sol 
 diers. At this drill, a sham battle was given, the artillery firing on an 
 imaginary army until the enemy was supposed to bring up its cavalry to 
 capture the gun. Then the artillerymen signalled to the infantry to 
 come to their support. The cannoniers dismounted their piece, and all 
 lay down until the supposed enemy was driven off by the infantry fire, 
 then mounted their piece again to give them a few farewell shots. Dur 
 ing this action the instructor called out the numbers of the boys at in 
 tervals, and as each was designated he fell over as though shot, and was 
 carried off by the ambulance corps, while the remaining boys manned 
 the cannon. This feature proved especially interesting to the spectators. 
 
 Many pages might be filled with accounts of similar work being 
 carried on by the rich and fashionable churches of the Prince of 
 Peace in the republic, but this illustration will suffice, as it is 
 typical 
 
 In a cent issue of the Corner Stone, edited by one of the 
 most intelligent, patriotic and conscientious women of Michigan, 
 I find the following : 
 
 Detroit has twenty-seven church military organizations, containing 
 651 men and forty-three officers. The largest is the Baptist cadets, with 
 sixty-six men and three officers. Then comes the Maybury cadets, an 
 Episcopal organization, with sixty men, the First Congregational cadets 
 with fifty-three, the first and last being armed with rifies. The Episco 
 palians have six companies, the Catholics eight, the Presbyterians seven, 
 Baptists three, Congregationalists two and Lutherans one. Thirteen of 
 the companies are armed with rifies and one with swords. These, it 
 must be remembered, are all church military companies, and have no 
 connection with the civil societies of the state militia. 
 
 II. 
 
 Probably nothing so well indicates the substitution of a hollow 
 and, in the strictest sense of the word, a materialistic theology 
 for a religion of life a loving faith expressed in deeds as the 
 diligent and systematic fostering by church and state of the war 
 spirit which is the murder spirit in the rising generation. 
 The position of the church on this question is at once astounding 
 and incomprehensible, if we admit that the spirit of her Founder 
 still vivifies her being ; for even the most superficial thinker 
 knows that the drilling of youth in the manual of arms must 
 necessarily fill the brain with ideals which are the exact auti- 
 
152 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 podes of the teaching of the Prince of Peace. The ultimate 
 which a course of practice leads to, or the ideal which it inspires, 
 gives color to the thought world of those who come under its 
 influence, and this is especially true when the plastic brain of 
 childhood is dominated by an alluring ideal. 
 
 Comparatively few people are aware of the military activity 
 within the city churches of America to-day. It is true that the 
 daily papers of our great cities have published of late so many 
 elaborate and laudatory accounts of church-fostered military 
 companies, that those who read more than the news items must 
 be more or less familiar with what is going on in this direction ; 
 but the millions in the country and towns are ignorant of the 
 magnitude of this movement, and the weary workers who, in the 
 nature of the case, cannot take time to reason from cause to 
 effect, are content to accept as gospel whatever the capitalistic 
 and conventional press applauds, without appreciating the real 
 significance of many ominous acts which are taking place to-day. 
 
 The religious leaders who introduced military instruction and 
 drill in the churches and those who later favored it, whatever 
 may have been their motives, committed an error so grave, that 
 it even now threatens to turn civilization back toward savagery 
 and destroy the opening blossom of universal peace through 
 arbitration. I do not wish to impugn the motives of those who 
 advocated the formation of military companies in the churches. 
 I believe that for the most part they only sought a way of draw 
 ing the young into the church by means which would naturally 
 be attractive. The error they committed lay in departing from 
 the fundamental teachings of their own accredited Leader, tvhom 
 they believe to be a God, and who, in life, spirit and word, em 
 phasized in the most solemn and impressive manner the impor 
 tance of driving from the brain every dream of war, every ideal 
 that looked toward physical violence, every thought which com 
 prehended the taking of human life. The profound insight of 
 Jesus, which led Him to transfer the seat of actual criminality 
 from the commission of the crime to the entertainment of the 
 thought which fathered its execution, has been generally over 
 looked by modern theologians. 
 
 The question will naturally arise as to how it was possible 
 that servants of the Prince of Peace could so far forget the life 
 and teaching of their Leader as to foster or favor the formation of 
 military organizations? I think the mistake was due mainly to 
 (1) a shortsightedness which overlooked the influence of the 
 ultimate ideal upon the plastic brain of childhood, and (2) to an 
 unconscious yielding to the savage spirit of our gold-crazed age, 
 which prevented their coming into rapport with the deepest and 
 most philosophic truths uttered by the great Nazarene. 
 
tfoe Saxmge in tbe IPouno* 153 
 
 One evil effect of this mistake was soon manifest. The old 
 fires of religious hate, which have so darkly stained the history 
 of Christianity, were at once awakened. There is nothing which 
 should be more carefully guarded against than stimulating reli 
 gious hatred. Theological fanaticism knows no reason. The 
 finest sentiments of mercy, justice and gentleness are by it 
 trampled under foot. There always has existed within the fellow 
 ship of the various Protestant churches, no less than within the 
 communion of Rome, a more or less formidable minority whose 
 views^arejso jxarrow that they cnrmot or will not admit the prob 
 ability, even if they grant the possibility, of those who differ from 
 them being right, and who in their hearts believe that all who do 
 not see religious truth through their spectacles will necessarily be 
 damned. They ignore the admonitions of Jesus, in which He 
 observed that he who was not against Him was for Him, and leave 
 out of consideration the fact that had they been born into Moham 
 medan lands they would have been in all probability as intolerant 
 in their demand that all others should believe in the tenets of the 
 Mohammedan religion as they are that all shall see as they now see. 
 They furthermore forget, or are incapable of realizing, that hearts 
 and brains are not all cast in the same mould, and though the 
 fundamentals of love, justice, truth and right as they pertain to 
 life are ever the same, belief in certain tenets is largely, if not 
 almost entirely, a question of heredity and environment. 
 
 These narrow-minded persons are often conscientious and sin 
 cere, but they are also always possible persecutors, and their 
 influence is necessarily unchristian, because it invariably stirs up 
 hate and savagery in the hearts of others. The formation of 
 military companies in churches at once afforded an excuse for 
 these classes to come to the front and influence the minds of 
 those more swayed by prejudice than by justice and right. Ow 
 ing to the long and savage conflict between Protestantism and 
 Catholicism it is no difficult task to alarm a goodly number of 
 partizan religionists of the great opposing bodies, and a deter 
 mined attempt is being fostered by the fanatics to arraign these 
 two forces against each other. I have for months been saddened 
 by seeing organs of hate seeking to arouse the fiercest passions 
 in the minds of their readers, in the name of religion and pre 
 sumably for the glory of the Prince of Peace. 
 
 I most profoundly believe that if Jesus came to the republic 
 to-day His first command would be " Ground arms " ; for the 
 present arming and drilling of His pretended followers is a 
 flagrant insult to His life and teachings. He was emphatically a 
 Man of Peace and even opposed retaliation. Love was His 
 talisman. He taught that hate and the murderous spirit of war 
 were from the pit. They represented the savagery of the brute. 
 
154 persons, places ant) Ufceas. 
 
 His disciples must be children of peace if they would please the 
 Infinite Father whose name was Love and who dwelt in Lio-ht. 
 " Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the chil 
 dren of God." The sign manual of Divine sonship was peace 
 making, exactly as fostering the spirit of slaughter is the un 
 mistakable sign of the atheism of greed, the materialism of 
 animality. "Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt 
 love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy ; but I say unto you, 
 Love your enemies." " Put up thy sword ; whoso taketh the 
 sword shall perish by the sword." 
 
 The example of Jesus life, no less than His solemn precepts, 
 was an unfailing protest against war, hate, savagery and whatever 
 could arouse or strengthen the animal side of man s nature. 
 Instead of military drill, Jesus would burn into the souls of the 
 youth this thought expressed by Isaiah, " How beautiful upon 
 the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, 
 that publisheth peace." The highest ideal and dreams of prophet, 
 sage and philosopher in all ages are summed up in the lofty 
 words of the olden seer: "Men shall beat their swords into 
 ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall 
 not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any 
 more. 
 
 III. 
 
 The work of fostering the savage spirit in the minds of the 
 very young has not been confined to the church ; indeed we 
 might say that the church, instead of holding steadfastly to the 
 high ideal of Jesus, allowed herself to hearken to the words of 
 short-sighted thinkers and drift with the current of a settled 
 policy, which has of late become more and more apparent 
 with each successive administration. The introduction of 
 military training into the common schools of America marked 
 the triumph of the military spirit of despotic Europe over 
 the long-cherished traditions of the republic. Kot satisfied 
 with teaching the manual of arms in colleges, which should be 
 dedicated to peace and true civilization, the high schools have 
 come under the curse of this blunting, soul-shrivelling influence 
 of war, and so cunningly has this spirit of savagery been fostered 
 that the lower schools are now threatened with its infection. 
 We are told that the administration looks with favor on enlarging 
 the scope of military instruction ; and ex-President Harrison, 
 not to be outdone, allows the admonitions of his acknowledged 
 Lord and Master to be forgotten in his desire to win the favor of 
 capitalism and the Grand Army, by exclaiming, " It is good for 
 the boys, good for the schools and good for the country." 
 
 On the 18th of May there passed under my office windows a 
 
^Fostering tbe Savage in tbe ISoung. 155 
 
 sight which saddened me for many days. It was the spectacle 
 of more than twelve hundred lads, of from twelve to nineteen 
 years of age, parading in full uniform, all bearing guns. They 
 were headed by a band which discoursed popular military airs. 
 The little street gamins looked enviously upon the boys clad in 
 blue, with brass buttons, bearing standards and marching to mili 
 tary music. I do not see how any thoughtful person could have 
 looked upon the spectacle without feeling that the hands on the 
 dial of civilization were being put back. In describing the event 
 the Boston Daily Globe said : 
 
 The "Pride of Boston," its school regiment, composed of pupils of 
 the high and Latin schools of the city, and numbering 1,330 lads ranging 
 in age from thirteen to nineteen years, organized as thirty-two companies 
 and forming four battalions, had its annual parade yesterday. For the 
 past two weeks, or since the death of Brig.-Gen. Hobart Moore, under a 
 new instructor the officers and men of the regiment have worked with 
 an energy commendable in the highest degree. 
 
 In their neat blue uniforms, with bright eyes and smiling faces, the 
 boys assembled at the school building, Montgomery Street and Warren 
 Avenue, with soldierly promptness at 9 o clock, ready for the duties of 
 the day with the regiment. At 10.15 the column started upon its march 
 to the common. 
 
 Great applause greeted the regiment as it turned into School Street 
 and marched past city hall in column of platoons, giving a marching 
 salute to Mayor Matthews, who stood at the gateway, attended by Pri 
 vate Secretary Nat Taylor, City Messenger Peters, several aldermen and 
 heads of departments. A brief halt was made on Beacon Street before 
 reaching the state house, which passing in column of companies, march 
 ing honors were given Governor Greenhalge, who, standing upon the 
 steps of the capitol, received the compliment. 
 
 The commander-iu-chief was attended by Adjt.-Gen. Dalton and Col 
 onels Benton, Kenney, Billings, Moses, Hastings and Page of his military 
 family. 
 
 To the lover of peace, to the truly civilized man and woman, 
 to the high-minded patriot, such spectacles are saddening beyond 
 expression. They reveal the fact that, after our country had 
 reached the point where she had by arbitration shown the other 
 great powers of the world a nobler way of settling disputes 
 than by awakening the instincts of the savage in man, and 
 just at the proud moment when it seemed that the nower of en 
 during peace was about to blossom upon the breast of the great 
 republic, we find the cry going forth, to transform her from the 
 world s harbinger of peace into a military camp ; and that this 
 may be effectively done, we find that our boys in the common 
 schools are being trained in the savage art of war. 
 
 Every careful student of human life knows that the ideals and 
 thoughts which fill the horizon of childhood color all after life. 
 If during the formative period the ideals which fill the child s 
 mind be essentially noble and humane, if he be taught that his 
 
156 persons, places aufc flfceas* 
 
 mission is to help subdue the savage in man, to transform swords 
 into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks, or in other words, 
 to become a saviour of life and a dispenser of happiness instead 
 of a slayer of his brother and an angel of darkness, he will grow 
 to manhood brave but gentle, manly but loving. He will love 
 justice more than gold ; he will see that the man who develops 
 the highest side of his life is the child of wisdom, and that 
 wherever he may go the flowers of joy will spring up, blossom 
 and fling abroad their exhilarating perfume. 
 
 On the other hand the child who is drilled in the manual of 
 arms has constantly before him the hour when he may draw the 
 trigger which means death to a fellow-man ; he comes to love 
 the sound of the drum beat, and learns to long for a chance to 
 shoulder the murderous gun. He turns to the lives of Alexander, 
 Csesar and Napoleon ; dreams of fame through slaughter, of 
 power through devastation and destruction, fill his mind, and by 
 coming to believe it is legitimate to kill his fellow-men when 
 ordered to by a superior officer, the highest and finest elements 
 in his mind are benumbed. And I may say here, what I most 
 profoundly believe, that there can never be an approach to civil 
 ization so long as the child mind receives military drill, for the 
 associations, ideals and dreams which necessarily follow in the 
 wake of warlike instruction are so at variance with the ideals 
 which alone can redeem the world from hate, greed and injustice, 
 that until children are taught to entertain a profound reverence 
 for human life, human rights and for justice in its broadest sense, 
 humanity will not know what true civilization is. 
 
 IV. 
 
 We are informed by the advocates of military drill that there 
 is much to be said in its favor, aside from its possible benefit to 
 the state in the event of war. We are informed that it gives the 
 boy much needed physical culture. In reply I would say that, 
 even if this claim were well founded, the possible benefit would 
 be many times counterbalanced by the blunting of the moral 
 sensibilities which attends training in the art of human slaughter, 
 to say nothing of the evil effect in filling his mind with dreams 
 of fame based on the exercise of the savage in his nature. 
 
 But let us further notice the claims put forth for military drill 
 on the ground of its value in developing the physical body. On 
 this point there is a diversity of opinions ; indeed, it is doubtful, 
 if the spirit of Caesar were not so strong at the present time, 
 Avhether thoughtful people would advance this as an argument, 
 but let us notice its force. There is probably no man in the 
 United States whose judgment in regard to physical culture will 
 
tbe Savage in tbe ffioung. 157 
 
 be universally accepted as more authoritative than that of Dr. I). 
 A. Sargent of Harvard University, and on this point Dr. Sargent 
 observes : 
 
 After the most favorable view possible of military drill as a physical 
 exercise, we are led to conclude that its constrained positions and 
 closely localized movements do not afford the essential requisites for 
 developing the muscles and improving the respiration and circulation, 
 and thereby improving the general health and condition of the system. 
 We must further conclude that in case of any malformation, local weak 
 ness or constitutional debility, the drill tends, by its strain upon the 
 nerves and prolonged tension on the muscles, to increase the defects 
 rather than to relieve them. Finally, if the ultimate object of the drill 
 was to prepare young men for the life and duties of a soldier, we should 
 be forced to conclude that the drill itself would still be defective as a 
 means of developing the chief requisites for men in that profession. 
 
 It will be observed that this craze for military drill, which is 
 one of the legitimate fruits of the war spirit which is being 
 fostered and which tinds expression in the rapid multiplication of 
 armories in our great centres of population, does not, according to 
 Dr. Sargent, accomplish the physical culture which wholesome 
 gymnastic exercise gives. Moreover he urges that soldiers to be 
 efficient should receive the gymnastic training as well, and the 
 correctness of this observation is emphasized when it is remem 
 bered that the great military powers of Europe give the recruits 
 several months gymnastic training before they are expected to 
 fill the requirements of soldiers. 
 
 Mr. Leverett "W. Case, master of the Dudley School of Rox- 
 bury, Boston, when interviewed a few months ago in regard to 
 the advisability of introducing the military drill into the grammar 
 schools, made the following observation : 
 
 It is a bad thing for the boys. These public street parades are espe 
 cially evil things. I have known three or four boys to faint away from 
 the fatigue and excitement on such occasions. Then again, it teaches 
 the boys to look forward to war, and to cherish a desire for fighting 
 which is not desirable. It seems to me that after twenty centuries of 
 religious enlightenment we ought to be able to live without fighting, 
 and the maintenance of standing armies. I believe in fostering a love of 
 nature and peaceful intercourse between one another among school 
 children. Boys should be taught what will be useful to them, but they 
 should not be taught that which would engender a desire for warfare. 
 The Ling system of gymnastics which we now have in the grammar 
 schools answers every purpose. It .gives the school plenty of wholesome 
 exercise and that is all they need.* 
 
 We are told that military drills give grace and suppleness to 
 the boys. In noticing this point Dr. Sargent observes: 
 
 In reference to the gracefulnesss that is thought to characterize the 
 movements of young cadets, I can only say it is not the outcome of 
 drilling and marching. The soldier is trained to square corners, straight 
 
 * Interview published in Boston Daily Journal, Jan. 24, 1894. 
 
153 persons, places au> flfceas. 
 
 platoons, and angular movements. Curves and embellishments are not 
 encouraged, in speech or in action. If you would account for the grace 
 ful pose of our National Cadets you must see them from one to two 
 hours a day in charge of the dancing master. 
 
 It is further urged that if our 1>oys are drilled in school they 
 will be prepared for war. On this point, I desire to ojiote the 
 words of Lieut. Col. Thomas F. Kd mauds of the Boston 
 Cadets: 
 
 " I only know that school drill injures the militia service;; and I never 
 saw a school successfully drilled that is, where the play was worth 
 I he candle. It is Impracticable to teach the boys anything more than 
 the manual of arms. It is one of the clearest cases ever invented of a 
 little knowledge being a dangerous thing. Boys like it because they are 
 aping the men and wear Hash clothes. When they get through school 
 their heads are so swelled by it that they think they know it all, and are 
 unwilling to receive any military instruction of real value to themselves 
 or to the country." 
 
 u How about the physical benefits to be derived from the drill?" 
 
 "In Boston the effect of school drill lias been to make boys round 
 shouldered and narrow chested. 1 never saw a school company well set 
 up in my life. Except a few of the larger ones the boys are overweighted 
 by the musket they are Obliged to carry." 
 
 "Then you do not believe the drill adds much to the value of the boy 
 as a subsequent military man? " 
 
 "The modern drill regulations are by no means adapted for work in 
 schools under any circumstances. They need a man s bra ins and muscles. 
 Kvery time I tell the truth about, the matter I generally raise a storm 
 from persons illy informed upon the subject, and from the boys, whose 
 self conceit, engendered by this drill, should be one of the greatest 
 arguments against, its further practice." 
 
 Even if Colonel Kdmands were incorrect, the claim that our 
 youth should be instructed in the tactics of war, in ease there 
 may be war, is so peurile and out of keeping with what ought to 
 be the spirit of our century, that those who know so well what, 
 will result from filling the brain of the young with visions of 
 military glory, should demand an immediate cessation of this 
 ungodly and savage drill which belongs to the plane of the 
 barbarian, and which is a crime against civilization, the republic, 
 and the young. The mothers, wives and sisters in this great, 
 republic, and all who love peace, justice; and enlightenment, have 
 a Ljre. it responsibility resting upon them. If the savage is to be 
 beat en back to his lair and the man again enthroned, there is not 
 an hour to be lost. 
 
Hypnotism ant) 1H0 IRelation to fl^cbical 
 IReeearcb, 
 
 i. 
 
 DURING- the past thirty years the gradual accumulation of 
 incontrovertible evidence revealing hitherto undreamed-of 
 possibilities of the human mind, has been such as to warrant 
 us in believing that we are on the threshold of a field of re 
 search which will mark a distinct epoch in human history, if 
 indeed it be not prophetic of the next great step in man s 
 evolutionary development. And in referring to the psychical 
 phenomena already demonstrated, I include only such abso 
 lute facts as have been established by critical and competent 
 scientific research. 
 
 With the vast mass of alleged phenomena which con 
 fronts the earnest inquirer on every hand it is not my present 
 purpose to deal. I shall confine myself for the most part to the 
 examination of phenomena which have been as authoritatively 
 demonstrated by critical comparative methods as other univer 
 sally accepted truths in physical science, as my chief purpose 
 in this paper is to indicate the all-important fact that the old 
 boundaries of mental limitation have been broken dmvn; 
 that what has hitherto been regarded as the impossible is now 
 a demonstrated actuality, and, therefore, that it is unscientific 
 and unworthy our age to close our eyes longer to this field 
 of research which already promises to disclose truths of 
 inestimable value. I am well aware that many who do 
 not consider themselves conservative thinkers will regard 
 this view of the possibilities of psychical research as unwarran 
 tably optimistic. They will remind us of the fact that in all 
 ages alleged phenomena have entered the woof and web of pop 
 ular superstition and legendary lore, while nothing of scientific 
 value has been demonstrated. They, however, do not take 
 into account the important fact that though man s menial 
 limitation in the past has led him to denominate as miracu- 
 
 159 
 
160 persons, places anfc Ufceas. 
 
 lous or supernatural all phenomena beyond then known laws, 
 it is no evidence that these phenomena have not occurred 
 through the orderly operation of some great law, which, 
 although existing from the beginning of creation, has awaited 
 recognition, as the law of gravitation so long awaited the 
 cognizance of man. 
 
 Objections to psychical research are so frequently urged 
 that it seems necessary, on the very threshold of our examina 
 tion of this subject, briefly to give a few reasons which, in 
 my judgment, justify belief in the early demonstration of 
 psychical facts as revolutionary, important and even more 
 beneficent than this century s crowning achievement in the 
 province of physical science the establishment of the 
 theory of evolution. 
 
 In the first place, let us not lose sight of the fact that the 
 ascendency of a strictly critical or scientific method of inves 
 tigation is of comparatively recent date, but it has now so 
 completely mastered dominant thought that the people in 
 general, as well as scientific bodies, are coming to apply it 
 to all phenomena with which the} 7 come in contact. Mere 
 hearsay no longer satisfies the spirit of the age; while until 
 the establishment of this method it is evident that facts which 
 may have actually occurred were, from a scientific point of 
 view, practically worthless. Hence, whatever is demonstrated 
 under what is known as the comparative method of scientific 
 research possesses a positive value never before present. In 
 the second place, the marvellous strides witnessed in the 
 province of physical science, and the unparalleled triumph 
 within a few decades of the evolutionary theory over uni 
 versally accepted, age-long thought, indicate a readiness on 
 the part of humanity to accept a new truth. This marks a 
 distinct advance in civilization, and reveals how strong a 
 hold reason has taken in a soil heretofore more or less over 
 grown with the weeds of superstition, prejudice and intoler 
 ant bigotry. Indeed, I know of no victory in the history 
 of man s intellectual development more significant than that 
 which attended the general acceptation of the theoiy 
 promulgated by Darwin, Spencer and Wallace. True, the 
 conflict was marked for a time by great bitterness and un 
 reasonable hostility on the part of dominant theology and 
 conservative thought, yet the new idea succeeded in a few 
 years in revolutionizing the intellectual conception of civili- 
 
Hypnotism* i6i 
 
 zation, turning the thought of the world from channels through 
 which it had flowed almost uninterruptedly for ages, into not 
 only a radically different bed, but one which carried its cur 
 rent in a diametrically opposite direction. This triumph of 
 physical science over inherited ideas and the superstitions 
 and traditions of ages, has proved of inconceivable value to 
 scientific investigation in the psychical realm, as it has 
 broadened the vision of the intellectual world and destroyed 
 the breastworks of religious prejudice, which would other 
 wise have rendered critical study of supernormal phenomena 
 doubly difficult. 
 
 A third point which warrants our belief in the approach of 
 an era of great advancement in this realm, is the very notice 
 able fact that many eminent scientific thinkers who have 
 hitherto ignored or discouraged psychical research, are now 
 coming forward and demanding not only a fair hearing for 
 this exiled truth, but are insisting that their own great 
 bodies investigate what a few years ago would have been 
 scornfully dismissed as belonging only to the province of 
 superstition, charlatanry and jugglery. Perhaps the most 
 notable instance of the gradual giving way of prejudice on 
 the part of eminent scientists, is found in the annual address 
 of Prof. Oliver J. Lodge, President of the Section of Mathe 
 matics and Physics of the British Association for Advance 
 ment of Science, delivered last August, in which this eminent 
 and conservative thinker took strong ground in favor of his 
 society systematically investigating psychical phenomena. 
 In the course of his remarks he made the following significant 
 observations : - 
 
 What we know is as nothing to that which remains to be 
 known. This is sometimes said as a truism ; sometimes it is half- 
 doubted. To me it seems the most literal truth, and that if we 
 narrow our view to already half-conquered territory only, we 
 shall be false to the men who won our freedom, and treasonable 
 to the highest claims of science. 
 
 I care not what the end may be. I do care that the inquiry 
 shall be conducted by us, and that we shall be free from the dis 
 grace of jogging along accustomed roads, leaving to outsiders the 
 work, the ridicule, and the gratification of unfolding a new 
 region to unwilling eyes. 
 
 It is sometimes objected that, granting thought-transference or 
 telepathy to be a fact, it belongs more especially to lower forms 
 of life, and that as the cerebral hemispheres develop we become 
 
162 persons, places anfc Ufceas, 
 
 Independent of it ; that what we notice is the relic of a decaying 
 iaculty, not the germ of a new and fruitful sense ; and that prog 
 ress is not to be made by studying or attending to it. It may 
 be that it is an immature mode of communication, adapted to 
 lower stages of consciousness than ours, but how much can we 
 not learn by studying immature stages? As well might the 
 objection be urged against a study of embryology. It may, on 
 the other hand, be an indication of a higher mode of communica 
 tion, which shall survive our temporary connection with ordi 
 nary matter. 
 
 I have faith in the intelligibility of the universe. Intelligi 
 bility has been the great creed in the strength of which all intel 
 lectual advance has been attempted, and all scientific progress 
 made. At first things always look mysterious. A comet, light 
 ning, the aurora, the rainbow all seem strange, anomalous, 
 mysterious apparitions. But scrutinized in the dry light of science, 
 their relationship with other better-known things becomes ap 
 parent. 
 
 Now I say that the doctrine of ultimate intelligibility should be 
 pressed into other departments also. At present we hang back 
 from whole regions of inquiry, and say they are not for us. A 
 few we are beginning to grapple with. The nature of disease is 
 yielding to scrutiny with fruitful result ; the mental aberrations 
 and abnormalities of hypnotism, duplex personality and allied 
 phenomena, are now at last being taken under the wing of 
 science after long ridicule and contempt. The phenomenon of 
 crime, the scientific meaning and justification of altruism, and 
 other matters relating to life and conduct, are beginning, or per 
 haps are barely yet beginning, to show a vulnerable front over 
 which the forces of science may pour. 
 
 Such utterances from such a source are very significant, 
 revealing the fact that psychical phenomena have taken such 
 a hold on the public mind that they can no longer be ignored 
 by leading scientific bodies, and also indicate that the hos 
 tility heretofore exhibited by orthodox thinkers in the domain 
 of physical science is gradually but surely giving away.* 
 
 *The change of sentiment now daily becoming more and more manifest among 
 thinking people and especially the more conservative element of scholars and scien 
 tific investigators, is largely due to the splendid work accomplished during the past 
 few years by the English Society for Psychical Research, which has accumulated, 
 verified and classified so much supernormal phenomena which hitherto floated around 
 as gossip,exertingnogreat influence on critical thinkers, owing to the apparent absence 
 of evidential value. The researches of such eminent savants as Dr. Alfred Russel 
 Wallace and Professor Crookes in England, Camille Flammarion in France, and 
 Professor J. R. Buchanan and Professor William Denton in America, have alsoexerted 
 an influence which is yearly becoming more and more manifest on conservative 
 thought. The discoveries of* Braid and the more recent demonstrations of leading 
 physicians in hypnotism have also contributed materially to the slowly changing 
 attitude of popular scientists. 
 
Hypnotism, 1C3 
 
 A fourth fact worthy of mention is the surprising and definite 
 results which have crowned the limited scientific research ii? 
 psychical fields during recent years. They have already 
 broken down beyond all controversy the old ideas of mental 
 limitation. They have demonstrated that the conception so 
 long held as final, is as erroneous as was the one-time uni 
 versal belief in a flat world, or the theory of a practically 
 instantaneous creation. 
 
 These observations seemed necessary on the very threshold 
 of this subject, owing to the prejudice and hostility of domi 
 nant thought which, however, as noted above, is each year 
 giving way, although still exerting sufficient influence to 
 prevent a candid and unbiased investigation of facts on the 
 part of thousands of scholarly minds.* In the present paper 
 I shall touch chiefly on the revelations which have attended 
 scientific experimentation in hypnotism, not because they 
 are more remarkable than many other psychical phenomena 
 which are now challenging the thoughtful consideration of 
 many leading scientists, but because owing to the nature and 
 extent of the investigations carried on by a number of the 
 foremost scientific and medical men of the age, the array of 
 indisputable yet astonishing facts is so complete and of 
 such a character as best to carry conviction to prejudiced 
 minds. 
 
 * I am by 110 means unmindful of the causes which have largely contributed to this 
 general distrust, and. which may be briefly mentioned as follows : 
 
 [1] The oft-demonstrated element of unquestioned credulity which characterizes 
 ignorant people and causes them to swallow with avidity all phenomena which they 
 fail to understand. [2] The general ignorance of the laws concerning these manifesta 
 tions, which enables charlatans and impostors to establish conditions claimed to be 
 essential, which render fraud possible and invite trickery. [3] The unscientific 
 report of the learned Bailey Commission, appointed by the French Government in 
 1784 to investigate mesmerism, or what was then popularly termed animal magnetism, 
 in which it was declared that all the power alleged to have been exhibited by Mesmer 
 was a " fraud " and that, to use the words of Bailey, " Magnetism is one fact more in 
 the history of human error, and a great proof of the power of imagination. 1 " This 
 reprehensible exhibition of dogmatic incredulity, unquestionably, greatly retarded 
 scientific progress along this line of research. [4] The great pioneers in physical 
 science, who encountered such a torrent of scornful abuse from conservative thought 
 when they brought forth the theory of evolution, with a few conspicuous exceptions, 
 have displayed unwarrantable indifference and in some instances much the same 
 spirit of hostility toward psychical investigation as that about which they so justly 
 complained when their own theories were first presented. This attitude, so thor 
 oughly discreditable and essentially unscientific, has prevented thousands of investiga 
 tors, who take ideas second-hand, from pursuing research along psychical lines. 
 Conservatism as usual frowned upon all pioneer thinkers, and theology, more apprehen 
 sive of the overthrow of some cherished idol than the triumph of truth, has until very 
 recently assumed a hostile attitude. With this trinity of opposing forces added to 
 the other causes enumerated above, it is not strange that progress has been somewhat 
 slow. Now, however, the wall of prejudice has to some extent given way and with 
 the constant establishment of new facts along the line of psychical research, the 
 people are manifestino; a constantly increasing spirit of hospitality most gratifying to 
 those careful investigators who have for years employed a strictly scientific method, 
 but who have been socially ostracized because they loved the truth more than the 
 approbation of conventional thought. 
 
164 persons, places anfc Ufceas. 
 
 II. 
 
 In 1841, the eminent English surgeon, James Braid, 
 determined to expose mesmerism, which he in common with 
 his scientific brethren believed to be an unmitigated fraud. 
 Doctor Braid soon came to realize that instead of mesmerism 
 being an unadulterated fraud, it possessed the grain of truth 
 capable of revolutionizing established ideas. Accordingly 
 he entered upon the laborious task of demonstrating and 
 critically noting facts connected with these marvelous phe 
 nomena. In 1842, he published his notable work entitled 
 "Neurypnology." Immediately he suffered from a storm of 
 hostile criticism. Nevertheless his clear utterances and the 
 methods employed gained for him the thoughtful considera 
 tion of several eminent continental thinkers, who were less 
 fettered by conservatism than his English professional breth 
 ren. A score of years later hypnotism was attracting much 
 attention among leading physicians and other scientific inves 
 tigators in France and other continental nations. Since that 
 day it has rapidly gained in the number of eminent scientists 
 who have wrought what in an earlier age would have been 
 regarded as miracles. Among the critical thinkers who have 
 given special attention to the power of mind along this 
 special line of inquiry since the publication of Doctor Braid s 
 works are Liebault, Bernheim and Beaunis of Nancy, and 
 Charcot of Paris, while scarcely less valuable to science 
 have been the labors as demonstrators, or critical observers, 
 of Paul Richer, P. David, Professor Luys, Janet, Richet, 
 Voisin and Reginald of Paris.* 
 
 In 1878, Charcot began a series of strictly scientific 
 investigations. He operated, however, only on hysterical 
 subjects, believing that only a few people were susceptible, 
 and they among the weak, sickly and nervous. Indeed, 
 until within the last decade this was the general impression. 
 Recent experiments, however, as Bjornstrom has observed, 
 with elaborate statistics furnished by the Nancy physi 
 cians, prove that "almost any one can be hypnotized." 
 Some persons, however, yield much more easily than others. 
 
 * Ochorowicz, a Polish scholar who resides in Paris, and Dr. Frederick Bjornstrom, the 
 head physician of the Stockholm hospital, have contributed works of great value to 
 the literature of hypnotism. Their writings have been translated into English. To 
 the latter author I am indebted for many interesting facts and striking illustra 
 tions given. I am also indebted to the work of Prof. William James, of Harvard, and 
 Part XVIII. of Proceedings of the English Society for Psychical Research for valuable 
 illustrations and well-authenticated cases. 
 
Hypnotism, 165 
 
 The eminent author further observes that " Climate seems to 
 have the effect of making hypnotization much easier in 
 warm and southern countries than in cold and northern. 
 Thus the French show a far greater susceptibility than the 
 Scandinavians and Germans. In the tropics, hypnosis is said 
 to appear rapidly, and to become very deep."* 
 
 III. 
 
 This brings us to the examination of some typical cases 
 exhibited by the hypnotic trance and the legitimate infer 
 ences which they suggest relating to the power not only of 
 mind over mind, but what is still more at variance with 
 popular conceptions, the power of mind over matter. In this 
 paper, space prevents my introducing many illustrations from 
 the vast accumulation of well-authenticative cases at hand. 
 I shall confine myself to typical cases which open up many 
 vistas for speculation and profound inquiry, while they mate 
 rially aid in completely revolutionizing old ideas and popular 
 conceptions as to the limitations of the human mind. The 
 first illustration I wish to introduce reveals the power of the 
 human mind under certain conditions to receive and hold 
 mental pictures, which afterward may express themselves 
 upon the body of the individual in such a manner as to pro 
 duce well-defined diseases, which naturally resist the well- 
 intentioned drugging of the physician who blindly attacks 
 the symptoms in his ignorance of the cause of the misery. In 
 Professor James thoughtful paper on "The Hidden Self," 
 he cites at length a most interesting and suggestive case, 
 primarily recorded by M. Pierre Janet, Professor of Philoso 
 phy in the Lycee of Havre, in his volume entitled "De 1 
 Automatisms Psychologique." f 
 
 In presenting this case I cannot do better than give verba 
 tim Professor James admirable summary, which is as fol 
 lows : 
 
 * From 1850 to 1860 hypnotism was used on a large scale by Dr. Esdaile, head surgeon 
 at the hospital of Calcutta. In six years he performed six hundred operations on 
 hypnotized Hindoos, and a committee of surgeons and physicians appointed by the 
 Indian government testified to his great success, which was chiefly derived from the 
 fact that the most difficult operations could usually be made without a sign of pain 
 from the patient, and without memory when they awaked, of what had been done to 
 them. The Hindoos, however, are said to be very susceptible to hypnotism. [Dr. 
 Frederick Bjb rnstrom, in his work on Hypnotism.] 
 
 t This work comprises about five hundred pages. It served as the author s thesis 
 for doctorate of Science in Paris and produced a great sensation when given to the 
 scientific world. 
 
166 persons, places anfc flfceas, 
 
 The story is that of a young girl of nineteen named Marie, 
 who came to the hospital in an almost desperate condition, with 
 monthly convulsive crises, chill, fever, delirium, attacks of terror, 
 etc., lasting for days, together with various shifting anesthesias 
 and contractures all the time, and a fixed blindness of the left 
 eye. At first M. Janet, divining no particular psychological 
 factor in the case, took little interest in the patient, who re 
 mained in the hospital for seven months, and had all the usual 
 courses of treatment applied, including water-cure and ordinary 
 hypnotic suggestions, without the slightest good effect. 
 
 She then fell into a sort of despair, of which the result was to 
 make M. Janet try to throw her into a deeper trance, so as to get, 
 if possible, some knowledge of her remoter psychologic antece 
 dents, and of the original causes of the disease, of which, in the 
 waking state and in ordinary hypnotism, she could give no 
 definite account. He succeeded even beyond his expectations ; 
 for both her early memories and the internal memory of her 
 crisis returned in the deep somnambulism, and she explained 
 three things : her periodical chill, fever and delirium were due 
 to a foolish immersion of herself in cold water at the age of 
 thirteen. The chill, fever, etc., were consequences which then 
 ensued ; and now, years later, the experience then stamped in 
 upon the brain for the first time was repeating itself at regular 
 intervals in the form of an hallucination undergone by the sub 
 conscious self, and of which the primary personality only expe 
 rienced the outer results. The attacks of terror were accounted 
 for by another shocking experience. At the age of sixteen she 
 had seen an old woman killed by falling from a height ; and the 
 sub-conscious self, for reasons best known to itself, saw fit to 
 believe itself present at this experience also whenever the other 
 crises came on. The hysterical blindness of her left eye had the 
 same sort of origin, dating back to her sixth year, when she had 
 been forced, in spite of her cries, to sleep in the same bed with 
 another child, the left half of whose face bore a disgusting erup 
 tion. The result was an eruption on the same parts of her own 
 face, which came back for several years before it disappeared 
 entirely, and left behind it an anesthesia of the skin and the 
 blindness of the eye. So much for the origin of the poor girl s 
 various afflictions. Now for the cure ! The thing needed was, 
 of course, to get the sub-conscious personality to leave off having 
 these senseless hallucinations. But they had become so stereo 
 typed and habitual that this proved no easy task to achieve. 
 Simple commands were fruitless ; but M. Janet at last hit upon 
 an artifice, which shows how many resources the successful mind- 
 doctor must possess. He carried the poor Marie back in imagi 
 nation to the earlier dates. It proved as easy with her as with 
 
Hypnotism* IGT 
 
 many others when entranced, to produce the hallucination that 
 she was again a child, all tnat was needed being an impressive 
 affirmation to that effect. Accordingly M. Janet, replacing her 
 in this wise at the age of six, made her go through the bed-scene 
 again, but gave it a different denouement. He made her believe 
 that the horrible child had no eruption and was charming, so that 
 she was finally convinced, and caressed without fear this new 
 object of her imagination. He made her re-enact the scene of 
 the cold immersion, but gave it also an entirely different result. 
 He made her live again through the old woman s accident, but 
 substituted a comical issue for the old tragical one which had 
 made so deep an impression. The sub-conscious Marie, passive 
 and docile as usual, adopted these new versions of the old tales; 
 and was apparently either living in monotonous contemplation of 
 them or had become extinct altogether when M. Janet wrote his 
 book. For all morbid symptoms ceased as if by magic. "It is 
 five months," our author says, " since these experiments were 
 performed. Marie shows no longer the slightest mark of hysteria. 
 She is well, and, in particular, has grown quite stout. Her 
 physical aspect has absolutely changed." 
 
 A number of similar illustrations might be given, indica 
 ting the susceptibility of the mind in certain conditions to 
 receive mental pictures, which later, sometimes many years 
 elapsing, are developed in such a manner as to produce the 
 most aggravated symptoms of disease in the physical body; 
 disease which naturally baffles the ordinary drug treatment; 
 indeed, within the past few months I have had my attention 
 called to some most remarkable cases, in many respects 
 similar to that of Muie, in so far as they relate to severe 
 illness resulting as the expression or development of a fear 
 arising from mental pictures of death photographed on the 
 mind in former ye.irs, and which stubbornly resisted the 
 usual medical treatment. When, however, the true cause 
 was revealed, and the image or photograph erased or sug 
 gested away, rapid recovery followed. Do not understand 
 me to affirm that all sickness is the result of mental pictures, 
 but incontrovertible facts, observed b}^ the most reliable and 
 unquestionable authorities, do indicate that in some condi 
 tions the human mind receives upon its marvelously sensi 
 tive plate, impressions much as the phonograph receives and 
 treasures up the most delicate notes of the human voice. 
 The possibilities of this power as revealed in the above illus 
 tration, and others which might be cited from equally relia- 
 
168 persons, places ant) 
 
 ble authorities, open a new vista for human thought, and 
 aside from the hint of vast and far-reaching significance 
 which they give to the medical world, they open a sugges 
 tive line of thought for scientists and philosophers. Are 
 hysterical and extremely nervous cases like that of Marie the 
 only brains susceptible to mental pictures, or is it more proba 
 ble that they are no exceptions to the general rule in so far as 
 the power of the human mind extends, but that the weakened 
 condition of the nervous system in these cases calls out, 
 develops, or intensifies pictures which suggest death? Is it 
 not reasonable to suppose that the human mind may catch 
 and hold all thoughts and impressions, all pictures and sounds 
 which enter the brain ? We cannot understand exactly how 
 the fruit-bearing plant catches, appropriates, and holds in 
 the laboratory of its being that wonderful fragrance, delicate 
 flavor and the rich, luscious pulp of the fruit which follows 
 the beautiful and often many-tinted bloom. To me it seems 
 more probable that the conditions exhibited in the special 
 cases which are usually termed hysterical, are merely the 
 coming to the surface of some of the hidden mysteries of 
 mind, than that an instrument which by nature and construc 
 tion was not intended to secure and hold enduring impres 
 sions should be, through nervous disorder, so radically, nay, 
 almost functionally, changed as to receive impressions or 
 pictures and retain them for years, later expressing them 
 on the body, as in the case of " Marie." An illustration 
 which is important in its bearing on this thought, is given 
 by Prof. J. Luys, member of the Academy of Medicine of 
 Paris. In speaking of the power of hypnotism to bring 
 out the hidden, unsuspected treasures of the mind he says, 
 in the course of an able paper in an English review : 
 
 I once heard a young married lady who had listened to one of 
 my lectures repeat the lecture several months afterwards in a 
 state of somnambulism with the utmost accuracy, reproducing like 
 a phonograph the very tones of my voice, using every gesture 
 that I used, and adapting, too, in a remarkable way, her words to 
 her subject. A year afterwards this lady had still the same ca 
 pacity, and displayed it every time she was put into a state of 
 somnambulism. And, extraordinary as it may seem, when once 
 awakened she was utterly unable to repeat to me a single word 
 of the lecture. She said she did not listen to it, she understood 
 not a word of it, and could not say a single line. 
 
Hypnotism* 169 
 
 I am aware that it will be urged that while in cases like 
 Marie s the mind seems largely to dominate the body, indeed 
 so much so as to render the patient a physical wreck until the 
 hypnotizer eradicates the morbid pictures, nevertheless these 
 are troubles more or less dependent upon the nervous organ 
 ism which it is now being grudgingly granted is largely 
 under the dominion of the mind.* 
 
 The narration of a series of experiments which I will now 
 give, however, carries us a step further, demonstrating that 
 through hypnotism sensation may be abolished, false sensa 
 tion may be established, and that in some cases, at least, 
 results do not necessarily end with the waking of the sub 
 ject. Some of these instances have great scientific value, 
 revealing, or at least hinting at, mental possibilities hitherto 
 undreamed-of. They demonstrate the power of mind over 
 matter (in cases where the subject readily yields to sugges 
 tions) which a few years ago would have been scornfully 
 rejected by the scientific world as manifestly absurd and 
 impossible. 
 
 The cases in Avhich hypnotism has been substituted for 
 ether, chloroform and other anaesthetics, where limbs Avere 
 to be amputated and other serious surgical operations per 
 formed, are now so common as to no longer occasion sur 
 prise, and for lack of space I will content myself with citing 
 a few lines from Prof. Win. James Psychology : 
 
 *In speaking of the power of suggestion on the nervous organism, Bjornstrom says: 
 
 The whole motor apparatus also may, by degrees or all at once, become the object 
 of negative suggestion, and by this all kinds of lameness or paralysis can be caused. 
 
 Also, independently of hypnotism, lameness has been found as the result of purely 
 psychical causes. Iii 1869/Russel Reynolds, the prominent English physician, pub 
 lished a case of lameness in consequence of spontaneous imagination of the sutterer 
 ( " dependent on idea " ). A young ffirl lived alone with her father, who, after various 
 sorrows and reverses, grew lame. In order to support the family the girl had to give 
 lessons, and for this purpose had to walk long distances. With anxiety she soon 
 began to think that she also might become lame, and that their condition would then 
 become still worse. Under the influence of this idea, which never left her, she began 
 to feel hpr legs grow weaker and weaker, until she could no longer walk. R., who 
 soon understood the cause, adopted an exclusively mental treatment; he gradually 
 convinced her that she was able to walk, and she soon became entirely well. 
 
 Charcot. Bernheim, and others have, however, produced the greatest number of 
 proofs of how easily paralysis is caused by hypnotic suggestion. Here the lameness 
 may be confined to one muscle, or to a whole limb, or to certain combined muscular 
 movements concerned in a certain action such as sewing, writing, smoking, sing 
 ing, speaking, plavine on the piano, standing, walking, etc., etc. "By negative sugges 
 tion, such anesthesia can be produced just as well as systematized paralysis. It 
 would take too much space further to discuss the many kinds of paralysis that can be 
 caused, not only with reference to the external result, but with reference to the inter 
 nal mechanim. 
 
 According to Voisin s experience, mental diseases of many years standing have 
 thus been cured in two or three seances. Hysterical persons have proved most sus 
 ceptible to the method, but he has also succeeded with epileptics, dipsomaniacs, and 
 others mentally diseased. Finally Voisin exclaims : " It would be fortunate for the 
 mentally diseased, if they were all susceptible to hypnotism." 
 
170 persons, places anfc flfceas* 
 
 Legs and breasts may be amputated, children born, teeth ex 
 tracted, in short the most painful experiences undergone, with no 
 other anaesthetic than the hypnotizer s assurance that no pain 
 shall be felt. Similarly morbid pains may be annihilated, neural 
 gias, toothaches, rheumatisms cured. The sensation of hunger 
 has thus been abolished, so that a patient took no nourishment 
 for fourteen days. 
 
 Phenomena, however wonderful they may be, which occur 
 when patients are in the trance, are less important to us in 
 our present pursuit than those which affect the patient in 
 such a manner as to reveal the power of mind over body 
 in a waking condition. Such, for instance, as when the 
 hypnotizer suggests that he has dropped some boiling oil, 
 water or wax on the patient, when in reality he only places 
 a little cold water or touches the surface with his finger. 
 After the subject awakens, however, inflammatory symptoms 
 are soon visible, and a blister ensues, as aggravated in every 
 respect as if the subject had actually suffered from boiling 
 wax, oil, or water. Experiments of this character have 
 repeatedly been made by Professor Charcot, of Paris, and 
 numbers of other scientists. In the July issue of the Pro 
 ceedings of the English Society for Psychical Research, Dr. 
 Alfred Backman, of Kalmar, a Avell-known Swedish physi 
 cian and writer, gives the following interesting account of 
 an experiment of this character : 
 
 The subject whom I consider my best clairvoyant is named 
 Alma Radberg. She is a maid-servant, and is now aged about 
 twenty-six. As a child and young girl she was sickly and deli 
 cate, but now, after a course of hypnotic treatment, she is healthy, 
 strong, and vigorous. She is a very pious and good girl, of some 
 intelligence, and by no means a hysterical person. She has 
 kindly allowed me and some others to make innumerable experi 
 ments on her, and she is extremely susceptible to suggestion, both 
 awake and hypnotized. All kinds of experiments, such as stig- 
 matization, etc., have been made on her successfully, both in the 
 waking and the hypnotic state. I may relate in passing one in 
 stance that seems to me remarkable. In the middle of an experi 
 ment, I put a drop of water on her arm, suggesting to her that it 
 was a drop of burning sealing wax, and that it would produce a 
 blister. During the progress of the experiment, I accidentally 
 touched the water, making it spread on her skin, whereupon I 
 hastened to wipe it away. The blister, which appeared the next 
 day, extended as far as the water had run, just as if it had been 
 a corroding acid. 
 
Ibppnottstru i"i 
 
 I now give some still more interesting experiments of this 
 character, related by Bjornstrum in his work on hypnotism : - 
 
 We begin with Beaunis experiment of changing the beatings 
 of the heart by suggestion. Both Lieba-ult and Beaunis had 
 noticed that by suggestion they could relieve palpitation and 
 regulate the action of the heart in somnambulists. This subject B. 
 submitted to strictly scientific investigation with the aid of the 
 usual instruments of physiologists for recording the movements 
 of the heart; and he found clear proofs of the fact, that the 
 heart could be made by suggestion to beat more slowly or more 
 rapidly, probably by stimulating or paralyzing action on the in 
 hibitory centres of the heart. 
 
 But this is not all ; by suggestion a much more heightened 
 effect can be produced in this direction. The congestion may be 
 carried still further to a raised swelling of the skin, to a blister 
 (as from Spanish flies). Concerning this, Beaunis relates the 
 following experiment, for the truth, of which he vouches. A 
 skilled physiologist and experienced experimentalist, he would not 
 allow himself to be easily deceived. 
 
 The experiments were made on a young girl Elise F., first 
 by Facachon,then also by Beaunis. One day, when Elise com 
 plained of a pain in the left groin, F. made her believe, after he 
 had hypnotized her, that a blister would form on the aching spot, 
 just as from a plaster of Spanish flies. The next morning, there 
 appeared on the left groin a blister filled with serum, although 
 nothing had been applied there. 
 
 On another occasion, he cured neuralgia in the region of the 
 right clavicle by merely causing, by suggestion, a blister resem 
 bling in every respect an ordinary burn. Afterwards several such 
 experiments were successfully made on Elise. We quote only 
 one, which was made under the closest control, before the eyes of 
 several scientists .Beaunis, Liebault, and others. On the twelfth 
 of May, in 1885, Elise was hypnotized toward 11 A. M. On her 
 back, at a point which the girl could not possibly reach with her 
 hand, a strip of eight gummed stamps was fastened, after a strip 
 of the same kind had for eighteen hours been applied to the arm 
 of another person, without causing the slightest effect. Over the 
 stamps an ordinary bandage was fixed, so as to simulate a plaster 
 of Spanish flies, and she was three times given to understand that 
 Spanish flies had been applied to her. She was closely watched 
 during the day and was locked up alone in her chamber over 
 night, after she had been put in hypnotic sleep with the assertion 
 that she was not going to awake until seven o clock on the follow 
 ing morning, which took place punctually. An hour later, 
 F. removed the bandage in the presence of Bernheim, Liegeois, 
 
17:2 persons, places anfc Ufceas. 
 
 Liebault, Beaunis, etc. It was first ascertained that the 
 stamps had not been disturbed. They were removed and the 
 underlying surface of the skin now showed the following changes : 
 on a space of four or live centimetres the epidermis was thicker, 
 yellowish white, and inflamed, but as yet not raised into blisters ; 
 the surrounding skin showed intense redness and swelling to the 
 extent of half a centimetre. The spot was covered with a dry 
 compress, in order to be further investigated later on ; three 
 hours after, the spot had the same appearance. At 4 p. M. the 
 spot was photographed, and it now showed four or five blisters, 
 which also plainly appeared in the photograph. These blisters 
 gradually increased and secreted a thick, milky serum. On the 
 twenty-eighth of May fourteen days later the spot was still 
 in full suppuration. 
 
 On the thirtieth of May, F. produced by suggestion another 
 Spanish fly blister on her arm. 
 
 This case is not the only one. On another girl Marie G. who 
 had for three months suffered greatly from neuralgia, F. produced 
 by suggestion two such blisters in succession, each the size of a 
 five-franc piece, one below the left ear, the other on the left tem 
 ple. These required forty-eight hours to become fully developed. 
 The neuralgia disappeared after twelve hypnotic seances. After 
 these successes, F. tried on Elise an experiment in the opposite 
 direction, that is, by negative suggestion to make a real Spanish 
 fly plaster inactive. For this purpose a plaster was cut into three 
 parts ; the first was applied to Elise s left arm, the second to her 
 right arm, the third on a sick person who needed such treatment. 
 Elise was hypnotized and F. made her believe that the plaster on 
 her left arm would not have any effect. This took place at 11 
 A. M. Elise was closely watched until 8 P. M., when the ban 
 dage was removed, after F. had satisfied himself that it had not 
 been disturbed. On her left arm the skin was unchanged, on her 
 right the skin was red and showed the beginning of a formation 
 of a blister. The plaster was again applied ; after three-quar 
 ters of a hour a normal blister was found on the right arm, but 
 on the left nothing. 
 
 The third piece, which was placed on the abdomen of the 
 other patient, had raised a large blister after eight hours. 
 
 Several other physicians have related similar facts. As early 
 as 1840, Louis Prejalmini, the Italian physician, mentions similar 
 experiments, when with " magnetized paper " he caused the same 
 effect as with Spanish flies. It is evident that the active cause 
 was not the magnetized paper, but the suggestion. 
 
 Something perhaps no more remarkable, but interesting as 
 giving further proof of the potential power of mind over 
 
Hypnotism. 173 
 
 matter, is seen in the following experiment related by Prof. 
 Wm. James in his Psychology : 
 
 Changes in the nutrition of the tissues may he produced by 
 suggestion. These effects lead into therapeutics a subject 
 which I do not propose to treat here. But I may say that there 
 seems no reasonable ground for doubting that in certain chosen 
 subjects the suggestion of a congestion, a burn, a blister, a raised 
 papule, or bleeding from the nose or skin, may produce the 
 effect. Messrs. Beaunis, Berjon, Bernheim, Bourru, Burot, 
 Charcot, Delboeuf, Dumontpallier, Facachon, Forel, Jendrassik, 
 Krafft-Ebing, Liebault, Liegeois, Lipp, Mabille and others have 
 recently vouched for one or other of these effects. Messrs. 
 Delboeuf and Liegeois have annulled by suggestion, one the 
 effects of a burn, the other of a blister. Delboeuf was led to 
 his experiments after seeing a burn on the skin produced by sug 
 gestion, at the Salpetriere, by reasoning that if the idea of 
 a pain could produce inflammation it must be because pain was 
 itself an inflammatory irritant, and that the abolition of it from a 
 real burn ought, therefore, to entail the absence of inflammation. 
 He applied the actual cautery [as well as vesicants] to symmet 
 rical places on the skin, affirming that no pain should be felt on 
 one of the sides. The result teas a dry scorch on that side, with 
 [as he assures me] no after-mark, but on the other side a regular 
 blister with suppuration and a subsequent scar. This explains 
 the innocuity of certain assaults made on subjects during trance. 
 To test simulation, recourse is often had to sticking pins under 
 their finger-nails or through their tongue, to inhalations of strong 
 ammonia, and the like. These irritations, when not felt by the 
 subject, seem to leave no after-consequences. 
 
 A great number of similar cases of the most authentic 
 character might be cited. I, however, have found it neces 
 sary to confine myself to brief summaries of interesting 
 experiments by eminent scientific specialists, which clearly 
 hint at the power of the human mind. And what a world 
 of thought these clearly demonstrated facts open up. How 
 many legitimate inferences are in them embodied, as for 
 example (1) the power of the mind to catch, hold, and per 
 haps in after years express the mental picture received in 
 former years, as illustrated in the first class of cases cited. 
 (2) The absolute domination of the human will by another 
 mind, even to the degree of obliteration of consciousness and 
 sensation, so that at the suggestion of the operator, a patient 
 may imagine he is enjoying a delicious banquet, at the very 
 
174 persons, places anfc Ufceas, 
 
 time when a limb is being amputated. (3) The absolute 
 power of mind over matter, as emphaszied in the cases cited 
 by Doctors Bjornstrom and Backman, and Professor Wm. 
 James. Of course it must be understood that these results 
 were obtained only in cases Avhere the subjects were 
 peculiarly sensitive to the suggestion of the hypnotizer, 
 where the mind was plastic as clay in the hand of the sculp 
 tor. Yet it none the less proves the potential power of the 
 human mind over even the flesh of the body. It serves 
 clearly to reveal, as I have before observed, a potential 
 supremacy of mind over matter undreamed of a generation 
 ago. For, after granting that the subjects come under this 
 power only by virtue of a negative condition of the mind or 
 a weakened nervous condition, they indicate none the less 
 significantly the power of the mind over the body. Indeed 
 w r e could not expect a more general exhibition of receptivity 
 of the power of the mind, when we consider the natural 
 result of ages of education, when notwithstanding all talk 
 to the contrary, the mind has in reality been subordinated to 
 the appetites, the passions and desires of the body; while 
 philosophy, as well as physical science, have for generations 
 schooled the human intellect to look with suspicion on 
 everything save what appealed to the physical senses; 
 hence all mental phenomena necessarily encounter among 
 the educated, the repellant waves of incredulity, even when 
 there is an absence of actual hostility. In this connection it 
 is interesting to note the observations of Drs. Milne Bram- 
 well and Lloyd Storr Best in an able paper on hypnotism in 
 The Neiv Review : 
 
 On the other hand, the power of suggestion to produce sleep 
 cannot be denied, nor can hysterical subjects be regarded as 
 alone presenting the phenomena of hypnotism in their complete 
 development. 
 
 The writers of the present paper, having carefully repeated the 
 most important experiments of the Nancy school, are convinced 
 of the truth of Liebault s statement, that persons in the enjoy 
 ment of perfect health are often extremely susceptible to hypnotic 
 influence. 
 
 Profoundly interested in the science, and wishing to verify the 
 extraordinary results obtained by the school of Nancy, we insti 
 tuted some time back a series of experiments, taking as subjects 
 any healthy male who would voluntarily submit to the tria 1 . 
 These experiments were eminently successful, for out of a total of 
 
Hypnotism, i"5 
 
 fifty cases not only was there no single instance of failure, but in 
 the great majority complete somnambulism was produced. 
 
 Great misconception appears to exist in England concerning the 
 number and nature of those who may be hypnotized ; instance the 
 following quotation from "Science Jottings "in the Illustrated 
 London News, May 3,1890: "It is impossible to hypnotize 
 everyone ; and, as far as my experience of it goes, only in the 
 case of the intellectually sensitive shall I add weak? can hyp 
 notism hope to secure its most characteristic effects." The emi 
 nent physiologist Beaunis is, on the contrary, of the opinion that 
 everyone is more or less susceptible to hypnotic influence, and 
 our own experience goes far to confirm this, for out of several 
 hundreds of patients treated hypnotically we have not yet met 
 with one whom we might fairly class amongst the " non-influ 
 ences." 
 
 As to the nature of those who are most easily influenced, 
 we find the greatest difficulty presented in cases such as those 
 above quoted, while educated non-neurotic subjects, who are 
 capable of concentrating their attention on the mental picture of 
 sleep presented to them, are nearly if not quite as easily hypno 
 tized as the credulous peasant. 
 
 This goes far toward confirming our view, that it is more 
 reasonable to regard the phenomenon of the mind controlling 
 the body [to such an extent as that given above] as the revela 
 tion of power inherent in mind, but weakened and no 
 longer assertive through centuries of false education, in 
 which the body has received supreme attention along these 
 special lines, than, to suppose that this marvelous extension 
 of the limitations of mind, this supremacy of mind over 
 body, is due merely to a diseased or immature state of the 
 mind, as is argued by the same conservative thinkers who 
 first dogmatically denied the possibility of the hypnotic 
 power, then grudgingly admitted to it in rare cases of 
 hysterical females, and who now declare that it is merely 
 the outcropping of a rapidly disappearing and immature state 
 of man s mental and nervous organism. Another thought in 
 this connection is valuable, and that is, the value of hyp 
 notism as a moral agent.* A great number of drunkards have 
 
 * I am aware of the great cry which has gone forth as to the dangers of hypnotism, 
 nor would I in any way minify the danger. All great discoveries carry with them 
 the possibilities of evil. Take for example, electricity or steam, which in the hands of 
 the ignorant or evily disposed may work great injury and be a terrible curse. Even the 
 brilliant power of the orator if unaccompanied by moral rectitude, may prove a great 
 curse, as has so often been exhibited. So hypnotism in the hands of the ignorant 
 or the base may and often has proved a terrible curse. This, however, is no reason 
 why it should be discarded, nor dop it prove that it i* in itself injurious. While on 
 the other hand Drs. Bramwell and Best, quoted elsewhere, declare that where proper 
 
176 persons, places ant) flfceas, 
 
 been redeemed through this agency, while criminal propen 
 sities in children have been greatly modified, and in many 
 instances entirely removed, by suggestions. Liebault claims 
 to have employed hypnotism as a moral agent in several 
 thousands of cases, always with beneficial results. While 
 in reply to the cry so frequently raised by conservative phy 
 sicians who know little about hypnotism, that it weakens 
 the mind, Dr. Hamilton Osgood, one of the leading physi 
 cians of Boston, and a gentleman who has had probably 
 greater experience in suggestion than any other New Eng 
 land doctor, declares that in his practice he has seen nothing 
 but beneficial results and increasing vigor, mental as well 
 as bodily, from its employment when indicated. 
 
 IV. 
 
 In this paper, my first purpose was to indicate the fact 
 that even in the scientific world, the old ideas of mental 
 limitation have radically changed. The closed door has been 
 partially opened. We have caught a glimpse of the potential 
 ity of the human mind. Moreover, evidence of the most un 
 questioned character is day by day being accumulated, which 
 
 precautions are taken, no injurious effects will follow hypnotism, when intelligent 
 and conscientious persons exercise tliis power. On this point these physicians 
 declare : 
 
 " At the commencement of our hypnotic practice we were much perplexed by the 
 difficulty of finding some efficient means of preserving the personality and will of 
 patients intact. We were fortunate enough, however, to discover what has, up to the 
 present, proved a perfect safeguard, which consists in the constant inculcation 
 during hypnosis of two idees fixes to the effect that no one should be able to hypnotize 
 the patient without his express permission, and that no suggestion should be effectual 
 which would be disapproved by him in his normal condition. This precaution has 
 been found thus far eminently satisfactory. 
 
 "Once let the general public be made acquainted with the necessity of the above- 
 mentioned precautions, and all danger of undue influence being exerted by the 
 medical man will vanish. Any person presenting himself for hypnotic treatment 
 would bring with him a trusted friend, who should see that thes e two ideas were 
 suggested to him at each hypnotization, until profound hypnosis was produced." 
 
 Dr. Hamilton Osgood, in" an able address before the Boston Society for Medical 
 Improvement, observes: "In a letter I have just received from Liebault, he says, 
 The accidents in hypnotism are due wholly to the ignorant or giddy tricks of the 
 operator, and, he continues: "In the Revue dc I Ilijiniot.innie for December Last, 
 Bernheim gives utterance to his latest views after nine years of hypnotic practice, 
 with reference to the dangers of hypnotism." In this extract from a lecture to his 
 students, he says: " Does suggestion as we practise it, with a therapeutic object, 
 present any danger whatever? ... It is a singular thing that some years ago, I 
 recall that when a practice more bloody than hypnotism ovariotomy made its 
 entrance into modern surgerv, eminent professors in the society of surgery were 
 found, who said: This operation belongs to the office of the public executioner. 
 To-day, ovariotomy no longer has any enemies. One goes so far as to perform the 
 operation upon the hysterical under pretext of curing them. No voice is raised 
 against this procedure, but anathemas are poured upon the inoffensive suggestion 
 which does cure hysteria. I appeal to the numerous students and colleagues, who for 
 several years have followed my clinic : If you have seen a solitary fact which bears 
 witness to a serious inconvenience in the suggestive method, when well applied, 
 announce it. 
 
 " I have seen many neuroses cured; I have never seen one caused by suggestion. I 
 have seen the intelligence restored; I have never seen a mind enfeebled by suggestion." 
 
Hypnotism, 177 
 
 indicates the opening of vistas in psychical realms far more 
 surprising and suggestive than those already exhibited in 
 hypnotism which are accepted by science. Such discoveries 
 as that referred to by Prof. Oliver Lodge in the follow 
 ing extract from his annual address, elsewhere mentioned : 
 
 It is possible that an idea can be transferred from one person to 
 another by a process such as we have not yet grown accustomed 
 to, and know practically nothing about. In this case I have 
 evidence. I assert that I have seen it done, and am perfectly 
 convinced of the fact. Many others are satisfied of the truth of 
 it too. Why must we speak of it with bated breath, as of a thing 
 of which we are ashamed ? What right have we to be ashamed 
 of a truth ? 
 
 This strange phenomenon is popularly termed telepathy. 
 The evidences of clairvoyance or of soul projection, automatic 
 writing, and other remarkable psychic phenomena are being 
 rapidly accumulated since sincere and patient scientific think 
 ers have engaged in the work. It will take much time to 
 overcome the prejudice which exists in the popular mind, 
 and to accumulate such a mass of indisputable evidence as to 
 compel the tardy acceptance of those eminent in other fields 
 of thought, who without examination have scornfully dis 
 missed the subject; yet enough has been given to the world 
 to convince those who are searching for the truth that we are 
 on the threshold of a new realm of discovery, a realm which 
 may some day mark another step in man s evolutionary 
 progress. Let us not be dogmatic, ever remembering the 
 thoughtful words of Braid, " Unlimited scepticism is equally 
 the child of imbecility as implicit credulity." 
 
Crucial fIDoments in IRational Xife, 
 
 HUMANITY is rising. Life, as a whole, is ascending. This fact 
 will become obvious if we trace the progress of man from the 
 dawn of history to the present time, in such a comprehensive 
 manner as to include the people in the aggregate rather than 
 special classes, and when we also bear in mind the fact that 
 races, civilizations and nations, no less than individuals, have 
 their periods of " depression and exaltation," that at moments in 
 the existence of peoples and nationalities, no less than in the 
 course of individual development, great crises arise. Two gates 
 open before the people; two paths are visible; a choice is nutde 
 between self love and divine love. Then one gate closes, and for 
 a generation, a century or a cycle, the life of the nation, race or 
 civilization slowly rises or falls. These supreme moments are 
 destiny-fixing in character ; they give a trend to thought, and 
 thought colors life. If the higher impulses rule, if the divine 
 rises superior to the animal, or, in a word, if the spirit of "All 
 for all " is more potent than the spirit of " All for self," the 
 civilization, race or nation is rejuvenated. It receives a moral 
 uplift a baptism from above, which is the oxygen of the higher 
 life. 
 
 While, however, it is true that taken as a whole, and compar 
 ing various stages of depression and exaltation with correspond 
 ing stages in the ebb and flow of nations and civilizations, it will 
 be found that humanity is slowly rising, the important fact must 
 not be ignored that the rise of man is accelerated or retarded by 
 the influence of the individual. No one is absolutely negative. 
 Every life exerts an upward lift or a downward pressure, and 
 therefore a grave responsibility rests upon each human soul. 
 When individuals forget the sacred duty imposed upon them and 
 abandon the cause of justice, progress and humanity for material 
 comfort and selfish gratification, manhood from the zenith to the 
 nadir of social life suffers for the sins committed. When, a 
 nation comes to worship gold rather than goodness, so that the 
 poor and unfortunate are ground to servitude, while rare, sensi 
 tive natures, whose ideals are high and whose thought runs 
 ahead of the time, are systematically misrepresented, abused and 
 misinterpreted, that nation enters upon a fatal decline which, 
 
 178 
 
Crucial fl&omenta in national Xife, 179 
 
 though it may be lingering as a slow consumption, must termi 
 nate in death, unless the people can be aroused so that opinion- 
 forming currents, which have become polluted by the gold of 
 avarice, no longer influence them, and, under the impulsion of a 
 new hope and a grim determination to secure justice, an awakened 
 manhood succeeds in changing the current of national life. 
 
 When in the history of a nation the shell of conventionalism 
 encrusts a civilization, a gross and deadly materialism crushes 
 faith and hope, turns the index-finger downward, and sneers at 
 the ideals of duty, justice and love by whose leverage the world 
 is raised; when human sympathy becomes paralyzed in conse 
 quence of self-absorption ; when capital becomes more precious 
 than human rights; when life is less sacred than property; when 
 the letter is enlarged and the spirit disregarded ; when theology 
 magnifies the importance of form, rite and ritual while industry 
 begs in vain for employment ; when widows starve and orphans 
 grow up amid an environment of moral death ; when divine love 
 is at a discount, and the faith so loudly proclaimed by the lips 
 finds no responsive echo in the deep recesses of the soul then 
 we have the melancholy spectacle of a nation which has reached 
 a point beyond which it cannot go without forever losing the 
 soul which made progress possible, and which alone held the ele 
 ment of perpetual rejuvenation. Then the voice of the divine 
 speaks through prophets, poets and seers, crying <* Choose." On 
 the one side are duty, justice, love and stern morality; on the 
 other the selfishness of pure animalism expressed in luxury, 
 voluptuousness and venalit}^. The moment is supreme. The 
 coronal region struggles with the basilar for final supremacy, and 
 the issue is life or death ; not necessarily a sudden going out if 
 the lower triumphs, for sometimes, as in the civilization of Rome, 
 a slow and terrible agony of decay precedes the final downfall. 
 
 We are to-day facing one of these great crises. Professor 
 George D. Herron voices the common conviction of earnest 
 students of social conditions when he says : 
 
 We are in the beginnings of a revolution that will strain all existing 
 religions and political institutions, and test the wisdom and heroism of 
 the earth s purest and bravest sonls. It will not do to say the revolu 
 tion is not coining, or pronounce it of the devil. Revolutions, even in 
 their wildest forms, are the impulses of God moving in tides of fire 
 through the life of man. 
 
 The slogan cry of " All for all " is far more noble than the 
 creed "All for self" which has held sway in the past. The 
 dogma of the divine right of property has too long obscured the 
 rights of man. Plundering by law may be safe, but it is not 
 moral, and throwing a few millions of acquired gold into the lap 
 of philanthropy, conventional education or a church more awake 
 
180 persons, places anfc 1Ft>eas. 
 
 on the material than the spiritual side of her being, may be 
 politic, but such acts do not take away the woe pronounced by 
 Jesus upon the Pharisees who paid tithes and posed as philan 
 thropists while they "devoured widows houses" and ignored 
 the "weightier matters of the law," such as "judgment and 
 mercy." 
 
 The hour for dreaming is past. Not a moment is to be lost if 
 the republic is to be redeemed. From this time forward plain 
 speaking will be in order. The time for the soul to assert its 
 supremacy has arrived; blessed is the man or woman who makes 
 the great renunciation, and consecrates life to the cause of the 
 people and for. the restoration of the republic from the rule of 
 the Assyrians. 
 
 " Hast tliou chosen, O my people, on whose party thou shalt stand, 
 Ere the doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust against our land? 
 Though the cause of evil prosper, yet tis truth alone is strong, 
 And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her throng 
 Troops of beautiful tall angels, to enshield her from all wrong." 
 
 " He s true to God who s true to man; wherever wrong is done, 
 To the humblest and the weakest, neath the all-beholding sun, 
 That wrong is also done to us; and they are slaves most base, 
 Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all their race. 
 
 " Tis ours to save our brethren, with peace and love to win 
 Their darkened hearts from error, ere they harden it to sin; 
 But if before his duty man with listless spirit stands, 
 Erelong the Great Avenger takes the work from out his hands." 
 
IRootn for tbe Soul of flfearu 
 
 SOME poets insist that art must not be made the servant of 
 utility. They tell us that poetry, when it descends to plead for 
 the oppressed, the poor and the miserable, becomes intolerable 
 mark the word "descends." Art for art s sake, and above all, poetry 
 for art alone ; such is their creed. Some of these singers dwell 
 in the shadows of Niobe, chanting sad, sweet strains ; others flit 
 in joy-lit, love-laden sunbeams, making the heart glad, as swallow- 
 like they skim the surface of human emotion. Others there are 
 with profounder genius, who sound the depths of the soul and 
 stir our inmost being. Still all unite in the clamor of art for art s 
 sake. Why should the muse soil her robes with the mud of the 
 slums ? Why should the music in her voice carry the heart-cry 
 of the starving? Why should the fate of the girl struggling for 
 virtue in the face of starvation, or the man striving for work that 
 his loved ones may not die, concern her? Is she not patrician? 
 Is not her votive shrine unsullied marble ? Ah, they tell us that 
 when art descends mark the word to the commonplace 
 details of life, poetry takes wings. These champions of art for 
 art s sake, sneer at the prophet poets, whose trumpet tones arouse 
 the sleeping conscience. They scorn the poets of the people, 
 who voice living wrongs, and who unmask injustice endured by 
 the poor. " Sing if you will," they say, " of the wrongs of other 
 ages the horrors of classic Greece, the shame of ancient Rome; 
 this is legitimate. But do not draggle the stainless robe of 
 poetry in the mud of the present-day misery." This contention 
 is not new. It is the old cry of the dilettante against the utili 
 tarian. It is an echo of the vanished past, which conservatism 
 treasures as a melody divine. It is the cry of a waning power. 
 After the gladiator s brawn came the supremacy of brain. Now 
 room for the soul. Art must be rescued from the bondage of 
 ages brutalized by the supremacy of selfishness. As long as 
 there remains a starving soul, brain, or body, as long as there 
 remains a tear un dried or a wrong unrighted, the highest mission 
 of poetry and song will be in the domain of utility. Victor 
 Hugo, the peerless poet prophet of the nineteenth century, has 
 
 181 
 
182 persons, places an> fffceas. 
 
 perhaps better than any one else defended art from her traducers 
 in these thought-freighted words : 
 
 Be of some service. Do not be fastidious when so much depends on 
 being efficient and good. Art for art s sake may be very line, but art for 
 progress is finer still. To dream of castles in Spain is well; to dream of 
 Utopia is better. Ah! you must think? Then think of making man 
 better. 
 
 But critics protest: To undertake the cure of social evils, to amend 
 the codes, to impeach law in the court of right, to utter those hideous 
 words, "penitentiary," "convict-keeper," "galley-slave," "girl of the 
 town" ; to inspect the police registers, to conduct the business of dis 
 pensaries, to study the questions of wages and want of work, to taste the 
 black bread of the poor, to seek labor for the working woman, to con 
 front fashionable idleness with ragged sloth, to throw down the parti 
 tion of ignorance, to open schools, to teach little ones how to read; to 
 att.ick shame, infamy, error, vice, crime, want of conscience; to preach 
 the multiplication of spelling books, to proclaim the equal right to sun 
 light, to improve the food of intellects and hearts, to give meat and drink, 
 to demand solutions for problems, and shoes for naked feet, these things 
 are not the business of the azure. Art is the azure. Yes, art is the 
 azure but the azure from above, whence falls the ray which swells the 
 wheat, yellows the maize, rounds the apple, gilds the orange, sweetens 
 the grape. Again, I say, a further service is an added beauty. At all 
 events, where is the diminution? To ripen the beet-root, to water the 
 
 }>otato, to increase the yield of lucern, of clover, or of hay; to be a fel- 
 ow-workman with the plowman, the vine-dresser and the gardener, 
 this does not deprive the heavens of one star. Ah! immensity does not 
 despise utility. 
 
 Yet people insist that to compose social poetry, human poetry, popu 
 lar poetry, to grumble against the evil and laud the good, to be the 
 spokesman of public wrath, to insult despots, to make knaves despair, 
 to emancipate man before he is of age, to push souls forward and dark 
 ness backward, to know that there are thieves and tyrants, to clean 
 penal cells, to flush the sewer of public uncleanness, shall Polyhymnia 
 bare her arm to these sordid tasks? Why not? 
 
 Many of our poets, especially those dear to the hearts of the 
 people, have realized that the supreme mission of art was to be the 
 handmaid of justice, progress and liberty. Whittier appreciated 
 this. His heart burned with that ethical fire which sends light 
 ning coursing through the veins of peaceful people when occasion 
 demands. On the altar of utility he placed much of his noblest 
 work. Lowell in his earlier days, before the plaudits of the 
 dilettante and the enervating spell of conventionalism tamed the 
 fervid zeal of a nature naturally in alignment with the highest 
 impulses of justice and freedom, gave us verses which will be 
 an inspiration for generations to come. Gerald Massey, perhaps 
 more than any other of the people s poets of England which this 
 generation has produced, apprehended the true mission of song ; 
 and William Morris, in his latest poems, shows that the dilettante 
 poet of yesterday has been touched by the higher truth. The 
 popular poet of to-morrow will be a soul-awakened man. The cry 
 of the oppressed for justice, the voice of ignorance pleading for 
 
1Room for tfoe Soul of flfeam 183 
 
 light, the muffled sob of man-made misery, will be ever surging 
 in his ear ; compelling him to lay his soul s best gift on the altar 
 of utility. 
 
 The age of brawn failed to give man peace and happiness. 
 The age of intellectual supremacy has likewise failed to satisfy 
 the craving of the human soul. The next step will be into the 
 broad domain of ethics, where justice, freedom and fraternity 
 will be taken in their broadest significance ; where the horizon 
 will not be limited by prejudice nor fettered by ancient thought ; 
 where the chains of dogma will fall from the shackled mind, and 
 the broad spirit of love will pervade all society. In the ushering 
 in of this new order, we must summon all that makes for beauty, 
 nobility and unfoldment, in art, music and song. They must be 
 rallied under the banner of utilitarianism. The highest voicings 
 of the soul must permeate every recess of the brain of the mor 
 row. The ideal enunciated by Jesus, the sublime truths which 
 haunted the brain of the ancient Stoics of Greece and Rome, the 
 vision which was ever with Confucius, the lofty craving of 
 Gautama, and the evangel sung by the noblest singers of the 
 nineteenth century, must be realized the soul must blossom 
 with the brain. I repeat, in the service of the higher civilization, 
 now persistently forcing itself upon the conscience of millions of 
 thoughtful people, all lives imbued with the thought of the age, 
 all brains made luminous with love, must place their chaplets on 
 the altar of utility. The poet and the singer must touch the 
 heart of the people. The orator, the minister and the essayist 
 of the new time must sink self, sink the dogmatism of the bloody 
 past, sink the prejudice and bigotry of the night of the ages, and, 
 facing the dawn with spirit brave, fearless and loving, demand 
 justice for all men. The philosopher and the philanthropist must 
 also allow their vision to extend. The present demands palliative 
 measures. Do not despise them, O philosopher ; commend, aid 
 and assist all work for the amelioration of human misery, pointing 
 out, however, that they are, in the nature of things, only tempo 
 rary. Great fundamental economic changes must be brought 
 about, O philanthropist ; and the sooner you realize this, the 
 better for the generation of to-day and the generations yet un 
 born. You cannot cure the patient by palliatives. Injustice is 
 at the root of the disease. Therefore, while pushing forward 
 thy noble labor for palliation, strike hands with the philosopher 
 in 1 his new crusade, and let all who love humanity swell the 
 anthem of progress. 
 
august present. 
 
 "Life is a mission." Mazzlni. 
 
 " To-day is a king in disguise." Emerson. 
 
 " The golden age is before, not behind." Charles Sumner. 
 
 " To live is to have justice, truth, reason, devotion, probity, sincerity, commoc 
 sense, right, and duty welded into the heart. To live is to know^what one is worth 
 what one can do, and should do. Lii e is conscience." Victor Rwjo. 
 
 The present is big with possibilities for the human race. 
 Every man, woman and child with convictions can be real 
 factors in the march of progress. The opportunities 
 afforded to-day come only to those who live in transition 
 eras, in periods of widespread and profound unrest. To 
 those who desire to help the world onward, but who are 
 chafing under the limitations w r hich hedge them round 
 about, I would say: your opportunities to-day for leaving a 
 lasting impression on civilization are far greater than those 
 enjoyed by men and women who have occupied more com 
 manding positions in ages marked by contentment, or in 
 periods when sullen hopelessness rankled in the hearts of 
 earth s millions. And this brings me to the point I wish 
 to emphasize, because it shows why no man or w r oman need 
 be a cipher in society at the present time. 
 
 Nations and civilizations, no less than individuals, pass 
 through great crises or turning points in existence, when 
 fate holds up the interrogation point and cries "Choose"; 
 and after the choice has been made, periods of comparative 
 quiet follow. Sometimes they are eras of contentment, 
 when the public mind may be compared to the pulsating 
 ocean lulled into a profound calm; there is motion there 
 are the multitudinous wavelets and ripples but as a whole 
 the vast expanse is tranquil. At other times the thought- 
 waves are fatal to growth, because they are poisoned with 
 hate. Millions of men and women, having lost hope, feel 
 themselves vanquished by running or power in a struggle 
 for justice, freedom and happiness, and they naturally s<>nd 
 forth an atmosphere of sullen, hopeless bitterness, while 
 from the masterful few in society the dominant or prevail 
 ing spirit is that of the alert conqueror rather than the 
 compassionate brother. This condition is especially unfav 
 orable to growth in an upward direction. There may be 
 bloody outbreaks, but they are the struggles of brute 
 
 184 
 
ITbe Baalist present* iss 
 
 pitted against brute, a contest in which hate arid savagery 
 eclipse the divine, and the immediate result of such strug 
 gles will always be appalling, though to the student of 
 history they will occasion no surprise; indeed he will see 
 that they have been rendered inevitable through the inhu 
 manity and brutality of man. 
 
 In contrast with these periods of contentment and night 
 mares of hatp, there are the epochs of light and growth- 
 supreme moments, which accomplish for humanity more 
 during the space of a generation than is achieved in cen 
 turies when the brain of man is dormant, or when he lives 
 in an atmosphere of despair. These epochs of unrest, 
 though they be accompanied by the pangs of labor, are the 
 birthdays of progress; they lift man from a lower to a 
 higher state; they unfold to him a broader horizon than he 
 has hitherto conceived to be possible. Such periods are at 
 once the inspiration and the hope of civilization. 
 
 One of the most striking illustrations of a luminous age 
 in the annals of a single people is afforded by the history 
 of Greece from 500 to 400 B. C. This century witnessed the 
 declining years of Pythagoras and the opening manhood of 
 Plato. It was also made immortal by ^Eschylus the 
 Shakespere of Greece Sophocles and Euripides; Herodo 
 tus, the father of history; Thucydides, the Athenian histo 
 rian; Xenophon, the soldier and historian; Hippocrates, 
 the father of medicine; Pericles, the statesman and patron 
 of learning and art; Pheidias, the greatest of all sculptors; 
 and Socrates. 
 
 In the annals of our civilization the first century of what 
 historians term modern times, or the Renaissance, furnishes 
 another example of an epoch of unrest, or an age of the 
 interrogation point. Here we seen an awakening extending 
 over many nations and reflecting the mental and ethical 
 conditions of more than one stage of growth, as w r ell as the 
 social and national characteristics of various peoples. This 
 was the most marked awakening known to western civiliza 
 tion. It was an era in which the past and present were 
 challenged, and the future critically interrogated. It was 
 a time of unrest and of growth, and responding to the exhil 
 arating but disturbing thought-waves which surged over 
 western Europe, we find Savonarola, Erasmus, Luther, 
 Zwingli, Calvin, Melanchthon, Latimer and Knox calling 
 the church to judgment. Rabelais employs the shafts of 
 merciless satire against hypocrisy. Sir Thomas More 
 reveals the essential brutality, injustice and absurdity of 
 political and social conditions, by contrasting the civiliza- 
 
186 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 tion of his time with his Utopian commonwealth. Angelo, 
 Raphael, Da Vinci, Correggio, Titian, and their companions 
 in the field of art, made the stiff, narrow and wooden paint 
 ings of the Dark Ages appear harsh and erode in the pres 
 ence of truer and freer expressions of genius untrammelled. 
 Copernicus interrogated the heavens; Columbus discovered 
 the New World; Vasco de Gama reached the Indies by way 
 of Cape of Good Hope; Magellan s ships circumnavigated 
 the globe. 
 
 The press which Gutenberg invented a few years prior 
 to the opening of this century aided marvellously in stimu 
 lating the public mind, which had been already profoundly 
 stirred. Colet, in founding the St. Paul s Latin Grammar 
 School, laid the foundation for humane and rational popular 
 education. Caxton s press, which began printing books in 
 the last quarter of the fifteenth century, greatly aided the 
 general intellectual awakening in England. And through 
 out Italy, Germany, England, France and the Spanish 
 Peninsula, humanity felt the profound agitation which 
 beat upon the brain of the age in so marked a way that 
 positive and clearly defined revolutions in religion, art, 
 science, commerce and politics followed. It was a civili 
 zation-wide awakening, as much grander, broader and 
 more far-reaching than the quickening of brain, heart and 
 soul in the Periclean Age as a family or group of nations is 
 greater than one nation. 
 
 At the present time we are in the midst of a many-sided 
 revolution as much more far-reaching in influence and 
 greater in possibilities than the Renaissance as was that 
 period greater than the golden age of Greece. For the 
 restless spirit of growth and inquiry which permeates the 
 thought of our age is not only found in every field of 
 research, but is world-wide in its extent. The telegraph 
 and cable have threaded the nations of earth together as 
 beads on a single strand, and the utilization of steam has 
 brought remote lands within easy distance of one another. 
 The revolution in philosophical theories occasioned by the 
 wider knowledge resulting from the interchange of the intel 
 lectual concepts of nation with nation, race with race, and 
 civilization with civilization, is only equalled by the far- 
 reaching influence 1 which the marvelous revelations in 
 psychical science are exerling. The revolution in 
 religious thought occasioned by modern critical methods, 
 the discoveries of discrepancies in the various ancient manu 
 scripts and the new truths revealed by archaeological 
 research, is only eclipsed by the profound agitation and 
 
ZTbe august present, 187 
 
 change going on throughout Europe, America and Austra 
 lia in regard to social and political economics and educa 
 tional theories. 
 
 These are some of the phenomena which make the present 
 the most august moment in the history of civilization, and 
 it would seem as though destiny was shaping things so that 
 all nations in the world which make any pretence to civili 
 zation, should come under the influence of this world-wide 
 mental quickening. Suppose that in 1893 someone had pre 
 dicted that within two years China would be compelled to 
 throw open her ports to civilization and give audience to 
 modern progress, and, furthermore, that the great empire 
 would be brought to these momentous concessions by the 
 little island nation of Japan. Men would have ridiculed 
 the idea, if they did not regard it as too wild for even con 
 temptuous notice. All things point to the fact frequently 
 predicted by thoughtful philosophers of the Orient that the 
 closing years of this century will be a grand climacteric 
 period in the history of the world. It is in a very special 
 sense a den/ of judgment ; for, while all days are judgment 
 days in that whenever a new truth comes to man it calls him 
 to pass upon it, and his passing is in a way his own sentence, 
 yet the period upon which w r e are now entering is a culmina 
 ting moment of world-wide proportion. 
 
 If we take the story of the journey ings of Israel from 
 Egypt to Canaan as a marvellous allegory of the progress 
 of humanity, we may compare mankind at the present 
 moment to the Children of Israel w r hen they had reached 
 the boundary of Canaan and were listening to the report of 
 the spies sent to view the land. It is an hour of readjust 
 ment, and of marvellous possibilities for the race, if reason, 
 justice and love can be made to conquer prejudice, selfism 
 and savagery. But it is for the individuals, the nations, 
 the civilizations and the races to determine whether they 
 will enter the higher estate where truth shall hold regal 
 sway over the mind, where altruism shall dominate the 
 heart, and love shall slay hate, or whether, like Israel, 
 earth s children shall turn back into the desert to wander 
 and to wait for weary generations until the lessons which 
 we have so often blindly refused to learn are through 
 repeated and bitter experience burned into the soul of a 
 wiser posterity. r 
 
 The tremendous issues which hang upon the choice of this 
 supreme hour should prove sufficient to fire every man and 
 woman of conviction, and lead to a great renunciation a 
 renunciation of the love of self, and dedication of brain, 
 
188 persons, places anfc flfceas. 
 
 heart and hand to humanity s need. But there is another 
 reason why the present speaks in urgent tones to every soul. 
 The possibilities for influencing the lives of others were 
 never greater, if indeed they were ever so great as to-day, 
 because the public mind is in an attitude of expectancy, for 
 at every crucial moment like the present the thought-waves 
 of the nations, civilizations, and peoples who come under 
 the spell of noble discontent surge to and fro much as do 
 the might} 7 billows of a sea when profoundly moved by a 
 great tempest. 
 
 The present is august because the spirit of God is moring 
 on the waters of thought, and the coming and going of the 
 turbulent leaves lash into life or consciousness all but the 
 most dormant and self -paralyzed brains- At such periods the 
 brain of man becomes abnormally sensitive; it is as the pre 
 pared plate of the camera, ready to catch and hold a domi 
 nant idea, an all-mastering ideal, a life-controlling thought; 
 or, to change the figure, the public mind resembles the iron 
 at white heat ready to be shaped into sledge hammers to 
 break the shackles of bondage, or to be forged into links 
 which may enslave. 
 
 To every one I care not how humble may be his station, 
 I care not where or what his position to every one strong- 
 enough to do right, is given at this splendid moment the 
 opportunity to awaken and influence some soul or souls to 
 come into the light. To those who live in hamlets, villages 
 and towns, or whose lives may seem very circumscribed, 
 I would say: What you lack in station or scope is more 
 than made up by the opportunities which the present affords 
 to throw a vital thought or a divine ideal into the minds of 
 those around you; to impress a young life, or to lead a 
 thoughtless brain into the light. 
 
 Remember, moreover, that the peculiar mental attitude 
 of humanity to-day is not proof against old-time prejudice 
 or the subtle poison of ancient ideals. Humanity is rising, 
 but w r e must not forget that man is linked by a thousand 
 ties to the lower life from which he has so slowly risen and 
 which still holds so strong a sway over the mind of millions. 
 We are not so far from the lower animals, not so far from a 
 state of barbarism, that we are proof against animalism or 
 savagery; it is not safe for men to see blood. And this 
 suggests something which illustrates the point I wish to 
 emphasize touching the dangers which threaten civilization 
 from the presence of strong prejudices or passions, and the 
 influence of ancient ideals on the mind at a moment of 
 expectancy and unrest like the present. 
 
august present* 189 
 
 There never seemed a more hopeful moment for the civili 
 zation of western Europe than that presented during the 
 heyday of the new learning, when such men as Sir Thomas 
 More, Eramus, Colet and their co-laborers were scattering 
 abroad among thinking men and women the noble dream 
 of a puritied church and a redeemed society; when justice 
 and toleration were being preached, and when the strong 
 moral protests of Savonarola, Luther, Zwingli and Melanch- 
 thon w r ere awaking the moral energies of man ; while Coper 
 nicus was broadening the conceptions of humanity in regard 
 to the heavens, and while art, science and a higher concep 
 tion of education than man had heretofore entertained 
 were taking on marvellous proportions. 
 
 And yet while this glad prophetic song of the dawn was 
 still young, when the mind of man was tense and ready to 
 receive and act on any powerful or dominant thought or 
 ideal, which should be pressed home with intensity and per 
 sistency, the prejudice, dogmatism and bigotry of conserva 
 tism, and the savagery latent in the heart of man were sud 
 denly aroused and stirred into aggressive activity by the 
 upholders of ancient thought, and the Spanish Inquisition 
 marked the opening of a night-time for civilization, as terri 
 ble as the promises of dawn had been glorious. Spain 
 answered the momentous question of this hour of judgment 
 in no uncertain tones. She chose, and her choice was 
 marked by persecution and slaughter which still sickens the 
 heart of man. The spirit of a savage past dominated, and 
 in the midst of her power, glory, pride and prosperity, she 
 fell, prostrate and paralyzed, by virtue of her choice of 
 death instead of life, progress and unequalled glory. 
 
 The sight and smell of human blood is always dangerous 
 as is the arousing of the savage in man. Other nations were 
 not slow to imitate in a milder degree -the merciless perse 
 cutions of Spain, and it is a noteworthy fact that in propor 
 tion as they turned from the light of tolerance and free 
 thought, and disregarded the principle of the golden rule, 
 these nations suffered. The inspiration given by the light 
 which came into the hearts of men during the time known 
 as the Renaissance, the time of the new learning, and the 
 morning of the Reformation, gave to western civilization a 
 powerful impetus toward the day, and the number of indi 
 viduals who chose the light was at this time so large that 
 civilization went forward, slowly and lamely, it is true, but 
 her movement was onward and upward. This illustration 
 from the history of the most marked of the great awaken 
 ings of our western civilization is especially worthy of con- 
 
190 persons, places anb fffceas. 
 
 sideration at the present time, inasmuch as the spirit of 
 religious intolerance and unreasoning prejudice is already 
 being manifested throughout the Christian world. 
 
 Another ominous shadow creeping across the sky of 
 civilization, which at the present time is so laden with 
 promises of triumph and progress, calls for attention, for it 
 is a grave menace to all that is finest and best in the dawn 
 of to-day. I refer to the general fostering of the military 
 spirit in young and old, and the astounding attempt on the 
 part of certain literary journals and publishing houses of 
 the Old World and the New to create an interest and 
 admiration for Napoleon one of the most perfect 
 manifestations of an incarnate demon of conscience 
 less ambition and destructive war afforded by the 
 annals of the ages. In mam 7 cases this despoiler 
 of nations and arch butcherer of mankind has 
 been idealized and rendered a hero. In other instances, 
 while the portrayal has been more impartial, the glamour of 
 \var and victory has been so thrown over the pages which 
 describe the life of this colossal failure, this scourge of the 
 race, that the effect upon the expectant public mind at the 
 present time cannot be other than most unfortunate; espe 
 cially since the church, which claims to be the home of the 
 Prince of Peace, is at the same time displaying unprece 
 dented activity in instructing her young in military drill and 
 the manual of arms, thereby associating with religious 
 ideals the images of war and visions of soldier life in the 
 youthful mind. 
 
 This military craze rampant in governmental, educa 
 tional and religious circles, and this attempt to rivet the 
 attention of the tense mind upon the master murderer and 
 tyrant of the past is the most ominous spectre -which 
 darkens the sky of our present civilization, and it is sadden 
 ing and discouraging when we remember that arbitration, 
 or the settlement of national and international disputes 
 rationally, has recently proved so successful that many of 
 the finest minds of our century believed that Christian 
 civilization had at last risen above the level of the savage 
 brute, and that instead of wanton murder and the measure 
 less waste, desolation and destruction of war, we should 
 hereafter see all disputes and misunderstandings settled 
 reasonably and justly by an impartial court of intelligent 
 human beings. Believing that man had reached a point in 
 his slow ascent where he might begin to lay claim to being 
 a rational creature, Victor Hugo thus characterizes the 
 vision of the incoming dav: 
 
Ube Bugust present, 191 
 
 "The diminution of men of war, of violence, of prey, the 
 indefinite and superb expansion of men of thought and 
 peace; the entrance of the real heroes upon the scene of 
 action; this is one of the greatest facts of our era. There 
 is no more sublime spectacle mankind s deliverance from 
 above; the potentates put to flight by the dreamers; the 
 prophet crushing the hero; the sweeping away of violence 
 by thought. Lift up your eyes; the supreme drama is enact 
 ing! The legions of light are in full possession of the sword 
 of flame. The masters are going and the liberators are com 
 ing in." 
 
 And this splendid spectacle is not only practicable and 
 feasible, but is inevitable, if the public mind be educated 
 along higher lines than those of wholesale homicide. This 
 lofty conception is no impracticable dream; it merely 
 pictures the state to which man must and will come, as 
 surely as he rose from cannibalism to his present stage of 
 development. It reveals the next step for enlightened 
 humanity, and a step which might be taken to-day, if it 
 were not for the reaw r akening of the savage in man, which 
 is being industriously fostered by church, school, popular 
 literature and the state, at the present intellectual crisis. 
 To-day the youth of Europe and America are having their 
 imagination focused upon an idealized warrior w r ho repre 
 sented the cruel, savage and selfish side of man as has no 
 other character in modern history. And it is the ideals and 
 thought-images which color life and give bent to character. 
 Professor Drummond observes that "The supreme factor of 
 development is environment. A child does not grow out 
 of a child by spontaneous unfolding; the process is fed from 
 without." 
 
 We do not see the plant assimilate the elements of air 
 and earth. We cannot look into the laboratory of the rose 
 and behold the reaching out of the plant to the sun and air 
 for those subtle elements necessary in order that it may pro 
 duce that miracle of color and perfume which in time 
 delights our senses. We know that in some mysterious 
 way the sunshine, the rain and the earth give to the 
 miracle-worker that which is essential to produce the rose. 
 So, we do not see exactly how the thought-seeds thrown into 
 the garden of the imagination, the ideal held before the 
 retina of the mind, the harmony or discord which the child- 
 brain encounters during the formative period, give color 
 and expression to life; but we know that these subtle influ 
 ences are destiny-shaping in their effect. And as before 
 observed, this is especially true in periods like the present 
 
192 persons, places an& 
 
 when the public mind is tense, when the imagination is 
 stimulated and receptive; when, in a word, the civilization 
 reaches the edge of a new Canaan, and the question is put 
 whither humanity shall move forward, to encounter 
 unknow r n danger on the road to progress, or back into the 
 wilderness of the known to feed afresh upon the ideals and 
 old-time thoughts, which, though they were an inspiration 
 in an earlier age, can no longer satisfy or sustain the best 
 in man. 
 
 The slothful, the fearful, the worshipper of the past, and 
 those who love ease and self-comfort, no less than those who 
 are so low 7 on the plane of development that they have more 
 confidence in brute methods than in reason and the divine 
 impulse are striving in a thousand ways to turn humanity 
 backward; like the ten spies who brought an evil report of 
 Canaan to the children of Israel, these voices seek to turn 
 humanity backward by appealing to prejudice, superstition, 
 fear, the love of ease and the savagery resident in the hu 
 man heart. They are seeking to outlaw daring science and 
 investigation; to replace the spirit of tolerance,charity, intel 
 lectual hospitality and ethical religion w r ith the savage dog 
 matic faith of darker days. They are fanning the spirit of 
 hate between religious factions; they are cultivating tke 
 war spirit, and turning the contemplation of the young 
 from the noble ideals of a Victor Hugo to the bloody tri 
 umphs of a Napoleon. They are endeavoring to raise 
 authority above justice and to discourage man s faith in a 
 nobler to-morrow. They sneer at the efforts of philoso 
 phers and reformers to substitute justice for injustice. In 
 a word, they are striving to turn civilization backward at 
 the moment when strong and clear the order to march for 
 ward should be given. 
 
 If we hearken to these voices of the night, w r e assist in 
 the commission of a mistake of measureless proportions, a 
 mistake which must necessarily result in clouding the face 
 of civilization for generations to come by checking the 
 rapid march of progress; if we remain. neutral, refusing to 
 bear arms in the stupendous battle now in progress, we are 
 recreant to the urgent duty which confronts us, and by so 
 doing neglect the splendid opportunities given to us to be 
 torch-bearers of progress in the most critical moment in the 
 history of civilization. 
 
 If prejudice, selfism and ancient thought triumph over 
 knowledge, altruism and justice in the present crisis, 
 humanity will have another long night before her, another 
 forty years in the wilderness. 
 
ZTbe Hugust present 193 
 
 He who at this moment realizes that his duty and respon 
 sibility are commensurate with his opportunity will rise to 
 the august demands of the hour, becoming a greater force 
 than he dreams possible, if, realizing his own limitations, 
 he loses sight of the tremendous fact that the time and 
 environment of the present give him a potential power not 
 given his fathers. We cannot do better than ponder on 
 these words of Hugo, when with prophet voice he spoke a 
 living truth for each awakened soul to make his own: 
 
 "The human caravan has reached a high plateau, and the 
 horizon being vaster, art has more to do. To every widen 
 ing of the horizon an enlargement of conscience corres 
 ponds. We have not reached the goal concord -con 
 densed into felicity, civilization summed up in harmony 
 that is far off." 
 
Three Works by B. 0. FLOWER, with Critical Press Opinion. 
 
 GERALD MASSEY: Poet, Prophet and Mystic. 
 
 A study 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 Daily Advertiser. 
 
 Dailv Traveler. 
 
 Boston Ideas. 
 
 Cincinnati, O. 
 
 Daily Commer 
 cial Gazette. 
 
 Chicago, 111. 
 
 Daily 
 Inter-Ocean. 
 
 NewYork,N.Y. 
 
 New York World. 
 
 of the life and thought of England s Poet of the People. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY LAURA LEE. 
 
 Price, extra cloth, $1.00. 
 Golden Opinions from Leading Critical Journals. 
 
 A SCHOLARLY WORK REVEALING THE INNER LlFE OF THE POET. Mr. B. O. Flower s 
 
 latest work is a scholarly discussion of the life and work of Massey, poet, prophet and 
 I mystic. One of the feature chapters is that in which the author traces the points of re 
 semblance between Massey and Whittier. There are frequent quotations from the poet, 
 but they are none too frequent, since they reveal to us the inner life of the man. Daily 
 Advertiser, Boston Mass. 
 
 FINEST PRESENTATION OF THE POET S CHARACTER WHICH HAS APPEARED IN THE 
 NEW WORLD. A most appreciative and tender tribute to one of England s lesser but 
 noble song writers. No such presentation of the poet s character and work has yet been 
 seen on this side the water. Daily Traveler, Boston. 
 
 A VOLUME WHICH WILL FIND A HIGH NICHE AMONG THE ELECT. Mr. B. O. Flower s 
 
 appreciation of the beauty and strength of Gerald Massey s nature and work is so enthu 
 siastic yet so spiritually true-tempered that he is better qualified than almost any one to 
 deal with the subject as he has in his latest book : " Gerald Massey : Poet, Prophet and 
 Mystic." So true a soul as Mr. Massey s deserves just such direct and sympathetic 
 treatment as that here given by Mr. Flower, and it is a delight, as well as inspiration and 
 benefit, to contemplate the picture of his life as drawn by Mr. Flower from Mr. Massey s 
 own words and writings, conducted and interspersed with comments, facts and explana 
 tions from Mr. Flower s pen. It is an uncommonly expressive delineation, and done 
 with a fidelity of color which keenly tells in the impressions conveyed to the reader s 
 mind. 
 
 Mr. Massey has received appreciation from high sources for his masterly poetic power, 
 but Mr. Flower s book aims chiefly at bringing forth before the public the man s charac 
 ter as a power among the modern reform elements which rank in the lists of the broadly 
 fearless and true. Mr. Flower handles the subject admirably, and we thus gain the full 
 force of the exquisite beauty, the invincible strength and the lofty truth of Mr. Massey s 
 clear vision and straightforward expressiveness. This volume will find a high niche among 
 the elect. It is handsomely and expensively printed. Boston Ideas. 
 
 A WORK AT ONCE BEAUTIFUL IN COMPOSITION AND FAULTLESS IN MECHANICAL EXE 
 CUTION. "Gerald Massey: Poet, Prophet and Mystic," is the title Mr. B. O. Flower 
 gives to a beautiful discussion of the life work of " One of England s Poets of the People." 
 The volume in its mechanical execution is a work of art. . . . The author illustrates 
 the three phases of Massey s mental and moral nature, as poet, prophet and mystic. It 
 is a charming book, written in a sympathetic spirit, in which the subject is appropriately 
 called upon to reveal his own character by his poems. It contains several elegant illus 
 trations by Laura Lee. Commercial Gazette, Cincinnati, O. 
 
 A HANDSOME VOLUME DEALING WITH AN INTERESTING SUBJECT. A handsome 
 
 volume, both in print and illustrations, which presents briefly, but pointedly the life and 
 work of Gerald Massey. Our author finds a striking resemblance between Massey and 
 our own loved Quaker poet, Whittier. Both were tireless reformers, " passionately in 
 love with the beauty in common life." Both hated injustice with all their powers of 
 mind, with prophetic and intuitive insight as to coming events. They both " revealed 
 beauties within and without the homes of the humble," and were fearless in denunciation 
 of wrong doing. The work is handsomely illustrated, but the text alone makes it an 
 interesting and even charming book. Mr. Flower makes free quotations from the gems 
 of many of Massey s inspiring songs, and brings out admirably the leading traits of 
 character that shaped his life and inspired his writing. Daily Inter-Ocean, Chicago. 
 
 Gerald Massey will be better known to the English-speaking people fifty years from 
 now than he is to-day. His genius is only just beginning to be recognized, and Mr. B. 
 O. Flower has done the world a service in his critical monograph, " Gerald Massey: Poet 
 Prophet and Mystic." It is a tribute from the heart to a true prophet of freedom, frater 
 nity and justice, ever loyal to the interest of the oppressed. New York World. 
 
 The abo*e are a few of the many appreciative criticisms which have greeted Mr. Flower s latest volume. This 
 work is one that is needed at the present time, as it makes a powerful plea for justice, while it presents the story of 
 Massey s life and the ideas which have dominated his brain. In mechanical execution this work which is printed 
 in black and red, on heavy antique paper, illustrated with a few choice pictures, drawn by Miss Laura Lee, the 
 talented Boston artist, is one of the finest examples of the modern revival of fine book-making. It is bound in 
 ornamental cloth, stamped in gold, and is a model of beauty as well as a volume of excellence. 
 
 It makes a charming presentation volume. 
 
 ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, Copley Square, Boston. 
 
np|_ _ XT^m 
 1 06 INCW 
 
 New York. 
 
 Herald. 
 
 St. Louis, Mo. 
 
 Christian 
 Evangelist. 
 
 A Plea for tne Union of the Moral Forces 
 for Practical Progress. 
 
 Extra cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cents. 
 A worthy companion to "Civilization s Inferno." Constructive in character and abounding 
 
 in helpful suggestions. 
 
 Current opinion of leading American journals. 
 
 It is a fervent plea for the union and practical co-operation of all those who are 
 interested in the welfare of humanity, and who believe that it is their duty to do their 
 utmost toward alleviating the sufferings of their less fortunate fellow mortals. Mr. Flower 
 is a firm believer in the ultimate triumph of the spirit of fraternity and justice, and in this 
 little book he suggests how this spirit may be fostered throughout the United States. 
 There are many loving souls, he claims, in every city, town and village, who would fain 
 spend most of their lives in aiding their fellows, and he maintains that a wondrous 
 amount of good would be the result if only these scattered children of light could be 
 properly organized. Undoubtedly he is right, and it would not surprise us if this idea 
 took root. We may not all possess Mr. Flower s enthusiasm, but we must all admire the 
 eloquence with which he pictures the " new time " for which he yearns, the time when all 
 men will be brothers and justice will rule the earth. New York Her-&ld. 
 
 The inspiration of a new social order seems to have suddenly assumed the proportions 
 of a contagion. Prophets are springing up all over the land, aud new books from every 
 quarter of the globe. The real import of God s love for the world seems to be dawning 
 upon the mind of thinkers for the first time in social history, and reformers are just 
 beginning to catch the inspiration of the Christ-life. These books are by no means 
 accordant as yet, but they are sufficiently harmonious in design to impress the student 
 with the fact that the kingdom of heaven is about to begin on earth. Almost all modern 
 writers on social conditions are so imbued with the altruistic spirit that altruism seems to 
 be the " Elias" of the new era. 
 
 So prominent indeed is this spirit in the above work that one almost feels that its 
 author is the John the Baptist of the time about which he prophesies, and that he should 
 at once demand baptism at his hands that is, a baptism of his spirit. We cannot have 
 too many such books as this at this time. It was not written for the sake of the book nor 
 its author, but of humanity. It is a plain yet earnest and vigorous presentation of some 
 of our social conditions, with suggestions, not a few of which are entirely practical and 
 full of promise. It has little of the visionary and speculative in it and proposes imme 
 diate action upon practical grounds for the purpose of the earliest possible relief an 
 solution of our troubles. Christian Evangelist, St. Louis, Mo. 
 
 It has a pertinence and value for all who have read and thought about the social prob 
 lems of our day; and the information which the author puts into such a moderate com 
 pass will also serve admirably to interest many in social literature who have been 
 deterred by rumor from touching these "fantastic theories." "It is facts, facts, facts, 
 which The New Time marshals before the reader, facts of the everyday, common 
 place, humdrum life about us." The reader will find in this book much food for solid, 
 hard thinking. Here are put into a small compass a body of concrete remedial measures 
 for an immediate and practical organization of social reform agencies. It shows hov 
 existing evils can be modified, and gives the trend of contemporary, social thought and 
 its evolutionary process toward its ultimate goal of the highest social good. Boston Home 
 Journal, Boston, Mass. 
 
 Like whatever Mr. Flower writes, the book has to do with & practical, immedia 
 means, of helping humanity in the throes of its upward struggle. Humanity as a mass, 
 course contains the leavening lump of spirituality which will ultimately express itself as 
 matter of course in the very reforms we so much desire. Equally of course do the coi 
 sciously-spiritual workers assist in this process this forms one of the pleasures as wt 
 as duties of the enlightened state. 
 
 In such a cause we know of no one who does more valiant work than Mr. Flowe 
 Convinced of its " righteousness," he will pursue it to its ultimate personally, and arou 
 in hosts of others both desire and determination to do likewise. Such work is of ines 
 mable value and in this connection everyone should realize that every person is helpin. 
 his fellow if he but live on the highest plane of which he is conscious, also striving COD 
 stantly to get still higher by helping to raise others. Boston Ideas, Boston, Mass. 
 
 Mr. Flower takes his stand on the side of human progress. In the book " The Ne\ 
 Time," he enters a vigorous, earnest and touching plea for the union of warring sects in the 
 great cause of the amelioration of human misery, whether it arises from poverty or guilt. 
 Without being, in any respect, a sermon, Mr. Flower s work has all the force and con 
 vincing power of the pulpit. Indeed it has more, for the pulpit ii often enough the 
 vehicle of the denunciation of opposing sects a fact which occasionally mars it useful 
 ness in the eyes of every reflecting man. Mr. Flower s book touches briefly on the 
 causes of much of human suffering and crime, and proceeds to show how a real and per 
 manent union of Christian workers of all denominations can be achieved and what noble 
 results will spring from such a union. --Daily Item, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, Copley Square, Boston. 
 
 Boston, flass. 
 
 Boston Home 
 Journal. 
 
 Boston Ideas. 
 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Daily Item. 
 
Civilization s Inferno; Or, Studies in the Social Cellar. 
 
 Price, cloth, $1.00; paper, 50 cents. 
 
 This work contains vivid peri pictures of the social cellar as Mr. Flower found it, and is one of the most fear 
 less and able presentations of the condition of society s exiles which has ever been made. 
 
 It carries the reader into the social cellar where uninvited poverty abounds, and from there into the sub-cellar, 
 or the world of the criminal poor. 
 
 It is rich in suggestive hints, and should be in the hands of every thoughtful man and woman in America. 
 Absorbingly interesting and at times thrilling, no one can read its pages without being made better for the pe 
 rusal. 
 
 CRITICAL OPINION FROM REPRESENTATIVE AMERICAN JOURNALS. 
 
 Boston, MaSS. It is a truthful and graphic delineation of the condition of the people in the social un 
 
 dertow. Mr. Flower has a keen and profound sympathy with the difficulties that the poor 
 are laboring under, and he describes what he has seen with his own eyes in terms that 
 chill one s blood. He does not hesitate to call things by their right names, and points out 
 the magnitude of the peril, showing that no palliative measures will satisfy the people. 
 
 Daily Herald, Boston. 
 
 A book which should be. read and studied by all. Mr. Flower s high enthusiasm, the 
 artistic impulse which has guided his pen, together with his intimate knowledge gained 
 by personal investigation of the matter, make his book most admirable. Boston Times. 
 
 A volume of remarkable interest and power, and merits the careful attention of all 
 students of social problems. Boston Daily Traveler. 
 
 He literally uncaps the pit, the hell on earth ; and if there are "the pleasures of sin 
 for a season," it will be seen that the season is not a long one. The author depicts the 
 scenes he has witnessed, and has the moral purpose the passion fora better state 
 which, enlivening his pages, makes the book as wholesome as it is inciting to practical 
 endeavor. Christian Leader, Boston. 
 
 Society, as it is now constituted, is nothing less than a sleeping volcano. Who dares 
 to say how soon the upheaval will come, or whether it can be evaded by the adoption of 
 prompt measures of relief? Certainly the condition of the lower social strata calls for 
 .immediate action on the part of those whose safety is at stake. Mr. Flower has accom 
 plished a great work, in setting forth the exact truth of the matter, without any effort at 
 palliation. It will be well indeed for the prosperous classes of the community if they are 
 warned in time. Boston Beacon. 
 
 It is not only the record made of discoveries during a period of systematic slum 
 ming, but it is also a philosophical view of the dangers of the conditions which he dis 
 cusses. Chicago Times. 
 
 The work is a masterly presentation of social conditions around us. These make a 
 vast problem, and it is by such earnest thinkers as Mr. Flower that they will be solved. 
 
 Chicago Herald. 
 
 A thoughtful work by a thoughtful man, and should turn the minds of many who are 
 now ignorant or careless to the condition of the countless thousands who live in the " so 
 cial cellar." No one can read the book without feeling that the author s diagnosis of the 
 case is true and gives each one his own personal responsibility. Courier-Journal, Lou 
 isville, Ky. 
 
 What General Booth has done for London, and Mr. Jacob Riis for New York, Mr. 
 Flower has done for cultured Boston. He is a professional man of letters, and tells his 
 story with the skill and knack of his craft. Daily Constitution, Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 A powerfully written book, presenting facts which ought to move the most sluggish 
 soul to resolve and action. Its whole lesson, sad as it is, is one that needs to be learned; 
 and we will not detract from its completeness by presenting it in fragments ; but we de 
 sire to call special attention to the author s exposition of the facts, concerning which there 
 has been so much scepticism, that the rich are growing richer and the poor poorer. If 
 there is any lingering belief or hope in the mind of anybody that his statement is a mere 
 partisan bugaboo, as it has sometimes been styled, Mr. Flower s book will settle the mat 
 ter. Daily Free Press, Detroit, Mich. 
 
 In this book the great social problem of the day is laid before the reader in all its im 
 portance, its increasing dangers are pointed out, and practical remedies suggested in a way 
 that is as interesting as thoughtful. We are glad to see the fashionable extravagances 
 and vices of the class that assumes for itself the title of "society" treated with the con 
 demnation they deserve. It is a work that has long been needed, and we are sure it will 
 go far toward the end it looks forward to so hopefully. Nassau Literary Magazin t 
 published by senior class of Princeton University, Princeton, N. J. . 
 
 Herald. 
 
 Times. 
 
 Christian Leader. 
 
 Beacon. 
 
 Chicago, III. 
 
 Times. 
 
 Herald. 
 
 Louisville, Ky. 
 
 Courier-Journal. 
 
 Ulanta, Qa. 
 
 Constitution. 
 
 etroit, Mich. 
 
 Free Press. 
 
 rinceton Uni 
 versity. 
 
 Nassau Literary 
 Magazine. 
 
 ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 
 COPLEY SQUARE, BOSTON. 
 
The Century of Sir Thomas More, 
 
 BY 
 
 B. O. FLOWER, 
 
 Author of "Persons, Places and Ideas," "Gerald Massey," 
 "The New Time," "Civilization s Inferno," etc. 
 
 Illustrated with full-page drawing of Sir Thomas More, and 
 smaller portraits of numerous eminent personages of the first 
 century of modern times, including Michael Angelo, Raphael, 
 Da Vinci, Correggio, Titian, Erasmus, Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, 
 Knox, Melanchthon, Columbus and Machiavelli. 
 
 Gable of Contents* 
 
 I. The New- Learning North of the Alps. 
 
 II. The Reformation and Some of Its Leaders. 
 
 III. A General Survey of the Italy of the Renaissance. 
 
 IV. Some Fatal Figures of the Italian Renaissance. 
 V. Some Bright Lights of the Italian Renaissance. 
 
 VI. The Spanish Peninsula of This Period. 
 
 VII. The France of This Age. 
 
 VIII. The England of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 IX. The Life of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 X. Utopia Considered. Part I. 
 
 XL Utopia Considered. Part II. 
 
 XII. The Lives of Seneca and More Compared. 
 
 XIII. A General Survey of the First Century of Modern Times. 
 
 Published only in Cloth. Gilt side and back dies. 
 
 Price, $1.50. 
 
 THE ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 Renewed books are subject ,o immediate recaU. 
 
 -WTE-US*A 
 
 _J^L__ 
 
 ___FEB_2SJ968_ 
 
 iMlljaas^ 
 
 AUT001SCIBB11 89 
 
 LD21A-60m-2, 67 
 (H241slO)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
YD 03414 
 
 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES