9 
 

PAUL DE ROUSIERS 
 
 AMERICAN LIFE 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
 
 BY 
 
 A. J. HERBERTSON 
 
 i 892 
 FIRMIN-DIDOT & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 PARIS. NEW YORK. 
 
 FOR SALE BY 
 
 DYRSEN & PFEIFFER, 254 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 
 
Copyright, December, 1891, by 
 Firmin-Didot & Co. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY 9 
 
 CHAPTER I. How a New Territory Is Opened 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. Cattle Raising The Ranches. 39 
 
 CHAPTER III. The Cattle Markets The Great Meat Cities 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. Cultivation on a Large Scale Extensive Farms. 81 
 
 CHAPTER V. Farming on a Small Scale The Homestead 101 
 
 CHAPTER VI. Auxiliaries of Culture The Small Towns of the 
 
 West 115 
 
 CHAPTER VII. The Outlets for Farm Produce The Great Cities 
 
 of the West 137 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. The Working of the Mines Gold in the Rocky 
 
 Mountains 157 
 
 CHAPTER IX. The Beginnings of Industry in the West 171 
 
 CHAPTER X. The Manufacturers of the East Their Predomi 
 nance Unity of Type Abundance of Coal and Natural Gas 
 
 Some Examples of Large Factories 189 
 
 CHAPTER XI. The Labor Question Signs of Misery Signs of 
 
 Wellbeing Whence Comes the Contrast ? 203 
 
 CHAPTER XII. The Economic Condition of American Manu 
 factures High Wages and their Consequences American 
 Industries and European Competition The McKinley Bills 
 The Dangers of the Protective System The Effects of a 
 
 Free-Trade Reaction 225 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. The Great City of Commerce and Banks The 
 Intensity of Commercial Life and the Cosmopolitanism of 
 New York The Empire City How an American Capitalist 
 
 Invests His Money 239 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. American Education Primary Education All 
 
 Trades are Respectable The Young Girls 253 
 
 CHAPTER XV. Betrothal and Marriage Heiresses Dowerless 
 Daughters Forms of Marriage. Large Families and Child 
 less Marriages. The Divorce Question 271 
 
 21G994 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. The Americans at Home and Abroad Familial 
 Homes New York and Boarding-Houses The Domestic- 
 Servant Difficulty Travelling The Last Journey and the 
 Last Resting-Place 289 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. Daily Life Meals Drunkenness Temper 
 ance Societies and Prohibition Dress American Amuse 
 ments 313 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. American Aristocracy The Virginian Aris 
 tocracy in Earlier Times and To-day A Developing Aris 
 tocracy 335 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. Associations for Private and Public Benefit 
 Associations for Comrtion Interests Associations for Public 
 Weal 353 
 
 CHAPTER XX. Politics The Corruption of Public Bodies and 
 of Politicians How Public Action is Substituted when Private 
 Interest Requires It The Restricted Nature of Public Au 
 thority 363 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. The Intellectual Life of the United States The 
 Education of the Young The Liberal Professions News 
 papers and Reviews American Authors The Taste for Art. . 387 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. The Religious Condition Are Americans Re 
 ligious ? The Catholic Church in the United States 415 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. Conclusion 433 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
NTRODUCTORY. 
 
 I. AMERICA OF OLDEN TIMES AND OF TO-DAY. 
 
 The year 1892 will see the four hundredth anniversary 
 of the Discovery of America. In the far-off time, when 
 Christopher Columbus landed on the Bahamas, thinking 
 to have reached the further end of the Indies, assuredly 
 no one foresaw the important part this New World has 
 been called upon to play. 
 
 When the brave explorer retured from his first expe 
 dition and made his triumphal entry into Barcelona, 
 undoubtedly there must have been great enthusiasm at 
 the Court of Ferdinand and Isabella. An admiration 
 of his happy genius took hold of everyone ; the men of 
 science joyfully saw the bounds of human knowledge 
 suddenly extended ; the statesmen dreamt to base the 
 supremacy of their country on great conquests ; the 
 merchants already counted up the vast profits the ex 
 ploitation of a new country would pour into their cof 
 fers. But there were none who imagined that the West 
 Indies would be anything for Europe but a magnificent 
 prey. 
 
 This first impression was sustained by the series of 
 discoveries which continued up to the eighteenth cen- 
 
10 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 tury. The further men pushed onwards into the im 
 mensity of this new continent, the more its natural riches 
 seemed to be at once enormous and undeveloped. The 
 natives had hardly cultivated the soil, still covered with 
 impenetrable forests and vast savannahs. It was a 
 marvellous field open to European activity. So, for 
 almost three centuries America was looked upon as a 
 European dependency. Each great nation staked off 
 large possessions, and sought only to make them profit 
 able to itself. 
 
 In a measure, the War of Independence was the first 
 phase of a disillusioning, which is still far from being 
 complete. Then it began to be seen that the colonies 
 could easily do without the mother country, and that 
 separation, far from hindering their developement, was 
 notably favorable to it. It is at this point that America 
 entered on the scene. 
 
 To-day we are witnesses of the second phase of this 
 disillusioning. America has not only a separate exist 
 ence of its own, but it has grown to be a formidable 
 rival to the Old World. Already everybody knows 
 even in the most out-of-the-way country places that 
 American grain has begun to compete with ours. The 
 French soldier carries canned meats, prepared in Chicago, 
 in his knapsack. Just remember the stir the question 
 of American imports has caused in European agricul 
 tural circles ! Protective tariffs have been established 
 to arrest the progress of the scourge ; but no one has 
 very great faith in barriers which can be thrown down 
 so easily. America has ceased to be an object of 
 curiosity in becoming an object of dread. 
 
 But this is not all. New types are appearing in the 
 nascent society on the other side of the Atlantic. Have 
 these to be ascribed to transitory causes ; or, on the 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 1 1 
 
 other hand, are they the first signs of a future evolu 
 tion ? Europe begins to feel uneasy, and the Old World 
 nations are asking if, after all, they must seek for new 
 models among these barbarians. 
 
 II. THE TRUE THEATRE OF AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 The great movement which I have tried to charac 
 terize is not affecting the whole Continent either in the 
 same way, or, above all, with the same intensity. A 
 shifting of centres has happened which explains the 
 difference between the fortunes of North and South 
 America. 
 
 At the discovery, and for two centuries afterwards, it 
 could truly be said that America was all in the South. 
 These were the times of the great Spanish and Portu 
 guese colonies, the famous epics of the conquistadores 
 and of galleons weighted with gold. There was a 
 vague knowledge that certain puritan sects had sought 
 a refuge on the shore of New England, but their exist 
 ence was not revealed by any noteworthy event. They 
 lived unknown to the world, while the names of Cortez 
 and Pizzaro were already immortal. 
 
 Thus it is that American history begins in tropical 
 lands. New World development was first focussed 
 there, but it has faded little by little, and is now out 
 shone by a second and more northern one, whose glow 
 and brightness are growing every day. This new 
 centre is in the United States. It is there that the 
 people are developing most rapidly ; there that towns 
 are springing up all at once in the midst of the wilder 
 ness ; there that the spirit of enterprise, carried to its 
 utmost limits, is covering the virgin soil with railroads, 
 with farms, with manufactories, e er old Europe has 
 
12 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 learned the name of the country where these astonish 
 ing transformations are going on. Thence it is that 
 there comes this dreaded competition of which I have 
 just spoken. Even our way of speaking betrays this 
 mastery of the United States; for when we talk of the 
 American type without other qualification, we at once 
 think of the citizen of New York and of Chicago, of the 
 Yankee and of the Western settler. He who would 
 give an account of the America of to-day and under 
 stand the American spirit, the American way of doing 
 things and American life, must go to the United States. 
 
 But there is still a choice to make. This progress 
 has not the same characters everywhere. The States 
 which \vere the most famous in the early days are no 
 longer at the head of affairs. A hundred years ago 
 Virginia had a special part to act in the Union. She 
 gave it its leaders. Washington, that most famous of 
 all Virginians, has left an imperishable memory. One 
 may say that the race of Southern planters, of whose 
 executive qualities he was the embodiment, realized the 
 independence of the States. Without it, the uprising 
 of the public spirit against England would have been 
 futile. To direct this, men were needed who were ac 
 customed to command and who were capable of making 
 effective use of the precious elements the nation con 
 tained. These were the men that Virginia gave to 
 New England. 
 
 To-day neither Virginia nor Georgia nor any of the 
 Southern States occupy a preponderant position in the 
 Union. During the recent agitation about the great 
 city which should have the honors of holding the Uni 
 versal Exposition, no one thought of New Orleans or 
 of Baltimore. The struggle was limited to one between 
 New York and Chicago, between the great city of the 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 13 
 
 East and the great city of the West ; because the East 
 and the North-west are the two most active and the two 
 most powerful parts of the Union. 
 
 For a like reason, the East and West form the true 
 theatre of American life, the places where it is at the 
 same time most intense and most characteristic. Let 
 us, therefore, study it there. 
 
 III. THE SALIENT FEATURE OF AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 In the East, as in the West, the love of independence 
 forces the United States citizen to make a position for 
 himself ; and this constantly spurs him on. To get it, 
 he works hard and ever tries his fortune ; so that Amer 
 ican life, in a measure, is all consecrated to business. 
 Business ! that is the word which the lips of the Yankee 
 or the colonist pronounce the oftenest, and one reads 
 such preoccupation on their faces. In meeting one 
 another, the greeting is " How s business?" It is the 
 first subject they think of speaking about. 
 
 In the States, one talks of business more readily, be 
 cause of its uncertainty. It progresses with no steady, 
 prudent pace, but has hazards, fluctuations and number 
 less vicissitudes. The abundant resources of a new 
 country, with an unforeseeable future, give it this char 
 acter ; and the active and enterprising spirit of the 
 Americans make it all the more marked. 
 
 Were I to give, in a few words, a general idea of 
 American life, I should say that it greatly resembles a 
 ladder up which everybody is climbing, hanging on, 
 falling, and beginning the ascent again after each tumble, 
 without wasting time in whining or deliberating on the 
 decision to lose not a rung. Nobody thinks of stopping ; 
 nobody rests contented on any step ; everyone is climb- 
 
14 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ing; none are settled. It is precisely this that an 
 American understands by life. Not only must he be 
 independent ; he must also be powerful. He will not ac 
 cept mediocrity ; he will not consent to remain an ordinary 
 clerk, or a small storekeeper, or a little proprietor ; he 
 must be manager of vast undertakings. If he desires 
 riches, it is not to enjoy in old age the fruits of his 
 earlier labors, but to try still bigger undertakings with 
 the large capital he has collected. For him, money is 
 not so much something to enjoy as an instrument of 
 work a lever ; not an end, but a means. 
 
 The ardor which he develops in this pursuit is thus 
 ennobled and increased ten-fold. No task is too hard ; 
 no labor too severe for a man animated with these sen 
 timents ; no consideration will stop him in his schemes 
 when there is a chance of success at the last. He does 
 not dread great risks, for he alone was father of his 
 fortune, and ruin means nothing to him but the return 
 to a condition he already knows, and out of which he has 
 already managed to escape. As to difficulties, he al 
 ways hopes to conquer them ; for him they are a kind 
 of sport, Between the steep slope and the winding way 
 that lead to the heights of fortune, he chooses the 
 former because it is the shortest. With hands and feet 
 he fastens himself to every roughness, at great risk of 
 breaking his back, provided that this gymnastic lets him 
 arrive quicker. Of such a man, it is not sufficient to 
 say that he struggles for existence ; one must add that 
 he risks his life to gain the end he has in view. 
 
 IV. EAST AND WEST. 
 
 How shall I become independent? Such is the 
 question every American puts to himself at the age of 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 15 
 
 fifteen or sixteen years. We must first study this desire, 
 if we would understand American life. 
 
 The means differ in East and West, and differ pro 
 foundly, because the economic conditions of East and 
 West are in vivid contrast. The East is the region of 
 manufactures and commerce the centre of city life ; 
 the West is the country of cattle ranches and of farms, 
 and even its cities are, essentially, cattle marts. It is, 
 therefore, necessary to distinguish between the East and 
 West in order to understand the various sources from 
 which American life derived its strength. 
 
 If, on the other hand, you cross-examine the differ 
 ent aspects she assumes, its unity appears, and it is 
 clearly seen, that East and West are but two successive 
 stages of the same society. They differ only in 
 economic condition. The best proof is that the West is 
 always receding, while the East advances in the measure 
 that this happens. 
 
 In the days of M. de Tocqueville, Ohio was consi 
 dered a State of the extreme West ; to-day it is thought 
 of almost as an Eastern State, and this not merely geo 
 graphically, for its society has become of a thoroughly 
 Eastern type. 
 
 There still remains another point to settle : where to 
 begin this description by East or by West ? 
 
 It seems to me preferable to begin with the West, for 
 several reasons. In the first place, the merits and 
 weaknesses of this extraordinary people are more em 
 phasized in the Western States. There can be seen very 
 clearly the causes of its rapid developments still in 
 action ; there can be watched the elements at work 
 which have combined to make America what she is ; 
 there, consequently, is to be found the key of the whole 
 social system. The best way of showing, to the out- 
 
16 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 sider, American life in its true light, is, therefore, to 
 describe this Far West where it is to be seen struggling 
 with all the difficulties of savage nature, and also profit 
 ing by all the resources of a virgin soil. In the second 
 place, this glimpse at Western America lets us under 
 stand not only the actual state of things, but also the 
 history of their development. At the present moment, 
 the East acts as a sort of metropolis to the West. It 
 supplies the capital for the great undertakings began 
 there, and it also sends by far the largest number of 
 those who manage these enterprises. The Yankee leads 
 the West as England leads Australia or New Zealand, 
 and as it formerly led the American colonies. That 
 which is taking place to-day in the West through Yankee 
 aid, is very much the same as formerly went on in New 
 England by English help. 
 
 Lastly, the West also explains to us the actual con 
 dition and progress of the East. If the manufacturers 
 of New England and of Pennsylvania have developed 
 so marvellously, it is because the West has given them 
 a constantly growing number of purchasers ; and if 
 the shipping from Atlantic ports has risen to such 
 wonderful proportions, it is because the cattle and 
 the wheat of the West are not unknown in Eastern 
 harbors. 
 
 Let us join the hardy pioneers who search for new 
 lands, and see the very beginnings of colonization. To 
 do this, it is not necessary to go far back into the past, for 
 almost every year the President of the Republic declares 
 some part of the Indian reserve territory open to 
 the settlers. Then must the Redskins move away, 
 carrying with them the little store of dollars which they 
 have been paid for yielding up their reserve ; then a 
 heterogenous mob of adventurers and of settlers rush 
 
INTRODUCTORY. I/ 
 
 on to the virgin soil, to build their towns and to grow 
 their crops. 
 
 There American life is born ; and there is not a corner 
 of the United States that was not the scene of similar 
 operations at a fairly recent period. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How A NEW TERRITORY Is OPENED. 
 
 I. THE DIVERSITIES OF TYPE. 
 
 Amongst the territories recently opened for colonization, 
 Oklahoma has attracted as much public attention as any. It 
 is a small region surrounded by the Indian reserves, and about 
 50 miles from the southern frontier of Kansas. Interested to 
 see a really new country, I promised myself to visit this one, 
 and on April 23d, 1890 a year and a day after its opening 
 I arrived in Oklahoma. 
 
 There is no material difficulty about the voyage. One buys 
 a ticket for Guthrie or for Oklahoma City, just as one does for 
 Lyons or Bordeaux ; but, in looking through the glass of the 
 car windows, the view makes one think of Fenimore Cooper 
 rather than of the fields of France. Shortly after passing 
 Arkansas City, the limits of the Reserve of the Cherokees is 
 reached, and there all traces of civilization disappear. The 
 bare and slightly undulating prairie is not cut by any fence, 
 nor covered with any habitation. At times one sees a herd of 
 cattle which some Redskins on horseback permit to graze for 
 a Kansas colonist ; then the solitude begins again. Wherever 
 the eye searches the horizon, it sees nothing but the eternal 
 prairie, so often and so justly compared to a boundless sea. 
 
 However, all along the track a well trodden path marks the 
 route of the emigrants ; and the dead bodies of horses, mules 
 
20 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 and cattle lie here and there, abandoned by the colonists, whose 
 wagons they had pulled a caravan route. 
 
 Before being aware of it one is in Oklahoma. The first 
 station in the colony is noticed only by a group of two or 
 three little houses, hastily erected near the depot. The most 
 elegant are made of wood, while others consist of a wooden 
 frame-work, on which pieces of cloth are stretched, making a 
 sort of square tent, not promising much comfort. Here are 
 stores or hotels. Soon the country becomes more lively. On 
 the banks of a little creek there is a fairly well built wooden 
 house, carefully painted, surrounded by a well cultivated field, 
 enclosed by barbed wire. A man, doubtless the colonist, 
 stands before the door, to look at the passing train. He has 
 the important air of a country proprietor, and his whole person 
 seems to express ease and contentment. The other more 
 provisional settlements round about him are occupied by 
 another sort of emigrant. The family are sheltered by 
 miserable sod-houses. The occupied land is indicated sim 
 ply by a few rough stakes fixed here and there into the 
 ground, which is still covered with prairie grass. On seeing 
 such contrasts, renewed at every instant, one realizes that all 
 do not come to Oklahoma with the same objects. Some 
 wish to settle in the most thorough way on good ground, to 
 put the hand to the plough and vigorously turn over the sod to 
 make a fertile farm for themselves. Others desire to specu 
 late, to make certain of the ownership of a lot, by living there 
 the necessary time, and then to sell out to some new comer. 
 
 That is what my fellow-travellers told me ; on alighting at 
 Guthrie the diversity of types I met confirmed their explana 
 tion. The first crowd that invades a newly-opened territory 
 is very heterogenous. Here are some of the types by which 
 the reader may judge for himself. First of all, there are mere 
 adventurers, who rush in the midst of the throng without 
 quite knowing what they are after, but buoyed by the hope 
 that some lucky hazard, some happy hit, will make their 
 fortune. My landlord at Guthrie belonged to that style. 
 He was one of the most loquacious of men, and I did not have 
 the trouble of asking him his story, to know all its incidents. 
 His talkativeness interested me greatly, because he had lived 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 21 
 
 in every part of the Globe and was a curious specimen of the 
 wandering Bohemian. A native of Transylvania, he shipped 
 in what capacity, I know not on an Austrian vessel, and 
 landed in Australia. There he acted as cook. Next he re 
 turned to Europe, then back to the Pacific, this time, however, 
 to America, and from the Pacific Coast he passed to that of 
 the Atlantic, and lastly, in April, 1889, invaded Oklahoma. In 
 spare time .he had married a stout German, who used to 
 go about the hotel with an earnest air. His admiration for 
 American institutions seemed tome to be slight ; he infinitely 
 preferred European governments, and would willingly have ex 
 changed his lot of land and his hotel of wood and zinc for a 
 room in Paris or Vienna. Paris, which he knew from a short 
 stay there, was especially seductive ; and in Paris the most 
 attractive thing for him was the Bal Mabille, whose name he 
 pronounced in a very curious way, but with grateful remem 
 brance. I also can avow that he kept himself in touch with 
 our master-pieces, for one night, when I had retired early to 
 recover from the fatigues of a well-occupied day, I was dis 
 turbed in my sleep by the tapping of a firm hand on a discor 
 dant piano, whose sound brought to my ears the well-known 
 air to which one of our generals owed his celebrity, and to 
 which he gave his name. I was very anxious to sleep, but the 
 idea of hearing En Revenant de la Revue, at the end of a voyage 
 in Indian Territory, seemed so droll to me that I never thought 
 of regretting the disturbance. 
 
 Another curious type was a so-called architect, born in the 
 Palatinate, a great hunter, a convinced Socialist and, above all, 
 an enemy of the Jesuits. He told me that he arrived in 
 Oklahoma with $25 in his pocket, dreamed of building Gu- 
 thrie in stone and brick, prophesied that shortly lands there 
 would rise to an astonishing value, and while waiting till he 
 became a millionnaire, borrowed cigars from the landlord. His 
 hunting stories were marvellous. He had trailed the grizzly 
 bear in the Rockies, killed the lynx, buffalo and antelope in 
 prodigious numbers, and gained his living for several months 
 by selling quails and pairie-hens. He had also cleaned locomo 
 tives at a dollar a day, built railroad bridges for the Missouri 
 Pacific Company, and lectured against capitalism. 
 
22 AMERICAN LIKE. 
 
 Alongside of the genus adventurer, there is that of specu 
 lator, in whose first ranks are the land-agents. The land-agent 
 is a man with some capital, who buys lots of lands from those 
 who are confirmed in their possession of it, and sells them again 
 to new comers or to settlers dissatisfied with the land they 
 have taken. 
 
 In one of the streets of Outline I saw an immigrant in his 
 canvas-roofed wagon, drawn by a pair of good horses, and with 
 a cow tied to the rear end. These signs of prosperity in an 
 emigrant do not escape the notice of the keen-eyed land agents 
 of Guthrie, for there is one approaching to propose a bar 
 gain before the wagon has been drawn up. It never does to 
 miss any chance. In fact, many lots are still to be taken up. 
 Everybody who took possession of the 160 acres which the 
 federal law allows to the first occupant is not a real settler; but 
 many simply wish to be assured the right of property by a stay 
 of six months, and then to part with this right for ready- 
 money. The land agent helps them by buying their claim, but 
 as he has several on hand, he tries to get rid of them as soon 
 as possible, and hence he plies his trade with the immigrant in 
 the streets of Guthrie. 
 
 The existence of the land agent reveals to us also that of a 
 more modest speculator he who takes a claim not to 
 cultivate it, but to sell it. In a little Western town I knew a 
 group of Frenchmen who had lived for six Summer months in 
 a place absolutely uninhabited on the prairies of Western Kan 
 sas, in order to take claims there. At that time they had re 
 turned home in the hope that the real colonists would settle in 
 the neighborhood of their claims, and so give them a consider 
 able surplus. One of them had realized speedily enough a very 
 modest return ; the other two awaited a rise of prices, with 
 their two hands in their pockets, like true proprietors. 
 
 In the main, everybody puts his hope in the settler who cul 
 tivates the soil, growing wheat or maize, raising cattle, and 
 who transforms the country. This is true for Oklahoma as for 
 other virgin districts of the United States. Adventurers and 
 speculators cannot live if the others do not work ; for they are 
 but parasites. It is not they, it is the settler, who opens up 
 the district. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 23 
 
 It is the settler, then, that we must study. He, too, is of va 
 rious types, depending on his origin, his tastes and his capabi 
 lities. Sometimes he arrives in solid groups ; sometimes he 
 is a poor wretch, with neither cent nor trunk; sometimes he 
 settles solitarily ; sometimes he is an important capitalist. 
 Everyone contributes his share to the prosperity of the country, 
 but the contributions are of different values, and must be 
 separetely studied. 
 
 II. SETTLERS WHO SETTLE. 
 
 In all Oklahoma I did not meet immigrants who had come 
 in bands organized beforehand ; but in several Western States 
 there are entire districts peopled by families of the same na 
 tionality, and united by ties more or less close. The most 
 striking example of this that I have noticed is that of the 
 swarm of Menonites, settled at Hillsboro, in Kansas. These 
 Menonites would not undertake military duties, because of re 
 ligious scruples, and had to leave Germany for Russia, about 
 the end of the eighteenth century. There, again, a recent 
 ukase enforced the law of conscription, to escape which 
 they came to Kansas. After eighty years in Russia and four 
 teen in Kansas, they speak neither Russian nor English, but 
 German, their native tongue. Being ignorant of that language, 
 I was obliged to secure an interpreter at Hillsboro, to talk to 
 the Menonite parson, to whom I had been directed. In com 
 pany with this interpreter a young German storekeeper and 
 several friends, I arrived one morning, about 10 o clock, at the 
 farm of V- . While fastening our horses to a stake, as is 
 the ordinary custom, V - came forward, shook hands and 
 asked us the object of our visit. He was a rather strong man, 
 about forty, of a kindly appearance. His long beard, fur cap 
 and thick hair gave him the look of a Russian peasant. 
 Nothing in his dress told that he was a parson ; but his calm 
 looks, dignified and peaceful, were in strong contrast with 
 those of the Americans accompanying me. It seemed to me 
 as if I saw one of those Pilgrim Fathers who formerly landed 
 at New Plymouth, seeking a lone land where they could settle, 
 
24 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 protected from the corrupting contact of other sects. Clearly, 
 this man did not come to Kansas to make a position for him 
 self, as most immigrants do, but simply to live in his religious 
 faith, ambitionless and tranquil. He had settled on a farm of 
 only 160 acres the claim given to an immigrant but he had 
 bought it from the Santa-Fe Railroad, as his companion Men- 
 onites had done. " We want to be all together," he said to me, 
 u and it is hard to find on government lands enough free space 
 to let each of us have his 160 acres; but the railroads own 
 large tracts, and have given us some on very advantageous 
 terms." It is, indeed, good luck for the Santa-Fe Railroad to 
 have a settling of 4,000 cultivators near their line all at once, 
 and it is easy to understand that they gave them every possible 
 facility to do so. Many had nothing with which to pay for their 
 claim, having spent all that they possessed in paying the costs 
 of the voyage from Russia. But they offered special security 
 to the company, in consequence of a curious organization which 
 makes them conjointly responsible. V- - explained to me 
 that the whole church forms a sort of society, each of whose 
 members was responsible for the debts of all the others. In 
 giving credit to one family, the Santa-Fe had the debt guaran 
 teed by a dozen others. Further all these Menonites, accus 
 tomed to farming from their youth, are serious settlers, and 
 not simply adventurers glad to place the Atlantic between 
 them and their creditors. 
 
 Such are folks who have truly peopled and given worth to a 
 desert land. It is a rare case, for one does not find every day 
 a population ready to leave their country en masse to settle in 
 the lonely wilds of the Far West. It is not an unprecedented 
 event in America. The Puritans of New England in the eigh 
 teenth, and the Mormons in the nineteenth century, have 
 founded important settlements in a like spirit ; but individual 
 immigration is the common and dominant case. In Oklahoma 
 I encountered no other. 
 
 Usually it is Americans, North Germans or Scandinavians 
 who come there and settle alone on their 160 acres of prairie. 
 By preference, Americans come to land not yet opened up. It 
 was they who threw themselves on Oklahoma as on a prey, 
 while millions of acres are still vacant in States constituted for 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 25 
 
 several years. In the environs of Guthrie, I saw a Californian 
 and his wife who had crossed the Rockies to seek their fortune 
 there. On the edge of their little garden, which they had dug 
 in front of their cabin door, an arbor of Californian vines was al 
 ready planted. A little way further, an old woman from Ohio 
 came in her wagon, with her husband, and several children still 
 young. She had traversed that enormous distance to try her 
 luck, and did. not seem .to consider herself a heroine. The 
 journey lasted three months, which is to say that for twelve 
 weeks she had rolled along in a wretched wagon, shared all the 
 jolts on a prairie road strewn with ruts, stopped each evening 
 to get ready a spare meal, and endured the fatigues and dan 
 gers of such an enterprise, to find at the end of it 160 acres of 
 bare prairie, and the sod-house which her husband had built. 
 It is interesting to note that this woman was not reduced to 
 poverty. Near the sod-house I saw the wagon, in good con 
 dition, a pair of horses and a cow. Inside was a bed, primitive 
 it is true, but covered with perfectly clean sheets. She could 
 have lived without undertaking this long journey ; but she pre 
 ferred to take the risks, in hopes of profiting by the advan 
 tages of Oklahoma and becoming proprietress of land of her 
 own. It was not stern necessity that drove her from Ohio, 
 but a desire to raise herself. 
 
 The new lands are thus not peopled only by the poor immi 
 grants. The same spirit of enterprise which animates all 
 Americans pushes some to newly opened territories, and it is 
 because of it that the pressure of the rich and powerful causes 
 the successives encroachments on the Indian reserves. This 
 is specially true of Oklahoma. The Federal Government had 
 no desire to buy this little piece of land far from any consti 
 tuted State from the tribes occupying it. However, it had 
 to resign itself to this, owing to the extraordinary perseverance 
 of some citizens of Kansas in pushing the matter. It was a 
 certain Captain Couch who contributed most to the attain 
 ment of the desired result, and as he was buried while I was 
 at Guthrie, he was then the subject of every conversation. I 
 report this here because it shows, in a very accurate way, the 
 type of an eminent settler, the man who opens a territory. Capt. 
 Couch was not a captain in the United States Army, as his 
 
26 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 title might lead one to believe. He was called captain, either be 
 cause he had received this rank in some local militia, or simply by 
 courtesy, because he really commanded a certain number of 
 men voluntarily gathered under his authority. It is very hard 
 to tell of what profession he was. Like many Americans, like 
 most Westerners, he had followed several trades, varying 
 according to circumstances. Thus, in 1871 we find him, at 21, 
 married and settled as farmer on the lands of Osage City, 
 Kansas. He had come there the year before, after having 
 left his family (originally from North Carolina) in Johnson 
 County. In 1876 he had a notion to go further West, and he 
 landed at Wichita, a small town just born then and now full 
 of life. There he became a cattle-dealer, and rapidly gained 
 great profits. Encouraged by this success, he set up a grocery 
 and hardware store, but far from letting himself be absorbed 
 by molasses and kettles, he found time to form in the neigh 
 borhood a rural property of 1,400 acres. His prosperity 
 vanished, all at once, in 1881, the results of Couch being 
 victimized by friends in whom he had trusted. Forced to 
 liquidate, he met all his obligations, returned to his first farm, 
 and began to make money by selling cattle from Texas. But 
 during his stay at Wichita he had joined with Captain Payne, 
 and even had furnished him with financial help for the organi 
 zation of a colony in Oklahoma. From 1883 he took a 
 personal part in the attempt at settlement directed by Payne. 
 The little troop they had gathered contained 600 men. Payne 
 was commander and Couch had charge of the wagons, num 
 bering 1 19 a real expedition. The young colony had already 
 chosen a site on the northern branch of the Canadian River, 
 when Captain Carroll, of the Ninth Cavalry a real officer, 
 this one cut short its destinies by reconducting the whole 
 band back within the Kansas frontier, and gave them orders 
 not to cross it in future. It must be explained that the 
 Federal Government often uses its army to defend the Indians 
 from the invasions of Americans. It enforces the laws which 
 prohibit any but aborigines staying in the Indian Reserves, 
 and we are sorry to see that this is not always managed without 
 difficulty. 
 
 The expedition of which we have been speaking took place 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 27 
 
 in February. In August, Payne and Couch organized a new one 
 in Arkansas City, the town nearest the frontier. This time 
 Couch entered Indian Territory with 200 men, while Payne 
 remained in Kansas, to raise a movement in favor of the enter 
 prise. Everywhere he stood by his opinion, that colonization 
 de facto led necessarily to colonization dejure; and once settled 
 in Oklahoma, the public powers would be forced to open it. 
 Soon, however, the United States cavalry brought back again to 
 the frontier Couch and his 200 men. Couch tried a new plan :. 
 taking with him 30 of the best horsemen, he boldly entered 
 Oklahoma, and for a month escaped pursuit. Finally, how 
 ever, he and his followers were caught, and after imprisoning 
 them for several days in Fort Reno, they were taken to Texas 
 and there set free. 
 
 In the Spring of the following year (1884), 600 colonists in 
 vaded Oklahoma, but were rapidly scattered. In May 200 
 others came in their turn, and settled on the river Cimarron, 
 about 6 miles above Guthrie. These were taken to Fort Reno, 
 and Couch, with four other ringleaders, was handed over to 
 justice. The court, however, acquitted them, and while the 
 trial was going on, Payne, followed by a great number of 
 settlers, crossed the frontier ; but he was afterwards conducted 
 to Fort Smith, in Arkansas, an<J there set at liberty. 
 
 In November of the same year, it was decided to make a new 
 effort, but Payne died. Couch paid the last respects to him, 
 and soon afterwards began a new march to Oklahoma. This 
 time he settled on the site where Stillwater now is, and, en 
 couraged by his acquittal, he determined to adopt a new 
 attitude in face of the army. Indeed, when Lieutenant Day, of 
 the Ninth Cavalry, came to order him to deliver himself up, he 
 replied by a pointblank refusal, saying that he disobeyed no 
 law, because he had not been condemned by the tribunal 
 which tried him, and consequently he would resist violence by 
 violence. At these energetic words and warlike intentions of 
 Couch s band, the Lieutenant felt he was too weak, and went to 
 seek reinforcement ; but the United States Army has only 25,000 
 men, so the garrisons are small ; and a month passed before Cap 
 tain Hatch had collected and led to Stillwater light companies to 
 oppose Couch. Even in face of these superior forces Couch 
 
28 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 refused to capitulate and declared himself ready to fight ; but 
 Captain Hatch, wishing to avoid bloodshed, stopped all supplies 
 for the settlers, and after a little famine, forced them to return 
 to Arkansas City. The Stillwater affair created a considerable 
 stir in the country. Couch was once more dragged before a 
 court of justice and acquitted by it. The protests of the 
 settlers came before Congress, and finally the President of the 
 United States was authorized by law to open negotiations with 
 the Indians Seminoles, Creeks and Cherokees for the ceding 
 of Oklahoma. It was a triumph which Couch thought definite ; 
 but he had still many obstacles to surmount before he gained 
 his end. For President Cleveland did not seem disposed to 
 profit by the authorization to treat with the aborigines, and 
 settlers who waited for the declaration at Arkansas City began 
 to lose all hope. Couch now undertook a new sort of cam 
 paign. Personal bravery had already got all it could get. He 
 felt himself backed by public sympathy, so he now tried to 
 effect a legal solution by acting on the federal powers. He 
 left Kansas for Washington, was presented to the President, 
 to the Secretary of the Interior, and received the conviction 
 of their bad will. It was, therefore, necessary to get a new Act 
 from Congress to overcome this, and for four years Couch 
 occupied himself to promote tjie Bill with the same perse 
 verance which had served him when he first invaded the Indian 
 reserve. But it was not till 1889 that he obtained the Act 
 permitting the formation of Oklahoma. 
 
 This capability to use successively every means necessary to 
 obtain an end, no matter how they may differ, is an important 
 trait of American character. The typical American is a com 
 plex being, capable of living either alone in a settlement hid 
 den in the middle of the prairie, or in a hotel with a thousand 
 rooms, in the centre of a large city. We shall understand this 
 singular faculty better when we see how an American lives in 
 isolation even in the midst of a crowd. By the bye, let us re 
 mark that Couch had this complexity and versatile mind in a 
 very marked measure. It is a very different matter to gallop 
 across the Oklahoma wilds with an armed force at one s heels, to 
 camp in the open air and keep a band of adventurers in 
 order, from dancing attendance on Ministers or buy up the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 29 
 
 powerful Congressman ; in one word, to carry on political 
 intrigue. 
 
 As soon as the Bill had passed Couch left Washington, in 
 order that he might have occasion to enter Oklahoma before 
 the official opening. He obtained a concession from the Santa- 
 Fe Railroad for laying a certain length of track near Oklahoma 
 City. In this way he was assured the possibility of choosing 
 an advantageous position on which to settle the minute the 
 territory was declared open, the Railroad Company becoming 
 an accomplice in this little fraud in return for the great ser 
 vices he had rendered them. Previously it had crossed nothing 
 but Indian Reserves for a large tract of country between Kan 
 sas and Texas ; and the foundation of a colony in Oklahoma 
 added a new element to its traffic, and might become a great 
 source of profit for it. 
 
 Justified by this special reason, which he could bring forward 
 for his presence in Oklahoma, Couch patiently waited the 
 opening day near the land he had chosen in advance ; and, on 
 April 22d, 1889, at noon, he rushed from the track where he 
 superintended the works, and took material possession of a 
 well-placed claim. None could dispute his right as first occu 
 pant ; but one Adams, pretending that this title was vitiated 
 by the fraud of which Couch was guilty, pitched his tent on the 
 same lot and claimed exclusive right to it. This was the be 
 ginning of a long quarrel, and a fatal one for Couch, who one 
 day was enclosing the claim, when Adams fired at him the six 
 barrels of his revolver, and wounded him in several places. He 
 soon died from the effects of these wounds. 
 
 The settlers of Oklahoma, in telling me this story, expressed 
 the warmest admiration for this caracter at once daring and 
 calm, and for this extraordinary perseverance which had over 
 come every difficulty. Of an unsettled and restless disposition, 
 Couch was a good representative of what is there termed a 
 frontiersman a pioneer, a founder. He was typical of these 
 Americans who lead the hardiest of the settlers in their search 
 for new lands. But such people as the Californian couple or 
 the old woman from Ohio, of whom we have spoken, are not 
 able to determine the opening of a territory. 
 
30 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 III. THE RIGHT OF FIRST OCCUPANT. 
 
 The tragic end of Captain Couch leads us to speak of a spe 
 cial difficulty encountered by those who invade a new territory. 
 I speak of the many quarrels that arise out of questions as to 
 the ownership of lands. They have not led to many bloody 
 scuffles ; indeed, scarcely two or three deaths, explained a Gu- 
 thrie citizen to me with marked satisfaction ; but they show 
 themselves in thousands of other ways. I read the following 
 bill in the street : 
 
 A CK/SJS. 
 
 " Now is the time to act against Lot Jumpers and inciters of 
 riot and ruin. Let every citizen who believes in property- 
 rights, law and order be at the City Hall, East Guthrie, at 
 7.30 to-night, to organize for protection of honest property- 
 rights." 
 
 A gentleman whom I had met that morning and who saw 
 me writing the announcement into my diary, began to beg me 
 not to send a copy to Paris. " Don t believe " he added, " that 
 there are Communists, enemies of property, here as with you. 
 There is nothing in all this except squabbles between the real 
 settlers, who entered Oklahoma on the day and at the hour 
 fixed by the President of the Republic, and the individuals 
 who were introduced by fraud before that time, and were able 
 to seize in advance certain well-situated lots. We usually call 
 them the sooner s, or folks who turn up too soon ; the bill calls 
 them Lot Jumpers, and it has exactly the same meaning." 
 
 The sooner question has greatly agitated the population since 
 the opening up of Oklahoma. At first, the sooners^ many of 
 whom were, of course, the followers of Payne and Couch, were 
 sure of winning, and as soon as possible tried to establish their 
 having taken possession ; but a crowd of protests were lodged, 
 and to-day the difference is squared in favor of the bona fide 
 settlers. I was told a curious fact which clearly shows this 
 turn about. The thought struck one of the reporters who 
 came to Oklahoma in 1889, f noting the names of most of the 
 sooners installed on the lots of the town of Guthrie ; and as 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 31 
 
 these were confident in their right of first occupancy, they were 
 delighted to have this publicity, and rushed round the reporter. 
 
 However their names were not published at once, but when 
 the rights of the sooners began to be questioned seriously, the 
 sharp and malicious journalist made his clients understand that 
 their fortune was in his hands, and sold his silence for $30,000. 
 Whoever is sure of having deserved the epithet of sooners may, 
 therefore, see himself dispossessed, but this is a question of 
 fact difficult to prove, hence the number of litigations that 
 arise. 
 
 The Land Office Receiver, a functionary of the Federal 
 Government, is intrusted with the charge of receiving the com 
 plaints and the declarations of the settlers on this subject. I 
 had a letter of introduction to him, and one morning I sought 
 him at his office. The official residence is a one-story plank 
 house which one enters under a verandah, to find oneself in a 
 small enough room, at the back of which a safe occupies the 
 place of honor, while the furniture is completed by a stove, 
 several chairs and two or three tables ornamented with the 
 feet of several so-called "gentlemen," who talk and smoke in 
 that position dear to all Americans. At one of these tables 
 sits the Land Receiver, a tall fair young man who, with his 
 pipe between his teeth, listens to the testimony of the persons 
 present, answers them in a few words, administers the oath, and 
 appends the signatures all without any solemnity. I ad 
 vanced among the others and delivered my letter to the Receiver, 
 who read it, spoke to me for a moment, gave me a seat 
 opposite him, while he went on attending to the affairs brought 
 before him. Everybody I thus saw pass in front of me during 
 an hour came to demand the free possession of their claim. 
 Sometimes the settlers appeared themselves, sometimes an 
 agent appointed by them. Some kept their hats on their 
 heads while speaking to the Receiver, while others put their 
 hands into their pockets ; it is true it was only preliminary 
 formalities that were being transacted. 
 
 I asked the Receiver if many of the disputes did not arise 
 more about the best situated lots in the town, rather than 
 about the lands for cultivation. " No," he answered, " we do 
 not trouble ourselves for the present except with claims of 
 
32 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 1 60 acres purely country claims. When we get to the town 
 lots it will be a very differend thing, but at present that 
 property isn t fixed." " But how is it that one can build on a 
 lot without being sure of owning it ? I saw three stone- 
 houses in town, and they are building two others at present ; 
 these houses can t be shifted." " I guess not, but the people 
 who build a stone-house on their lot are absolutely sure of 
 having their right to the claim recognized. What we really 
 want to know, above all, is whether we have to deal with true 
 settlers or sham ones. Everybody who comes here with the 
 intention of staying and doing business has a right to our help, 
 and the best proof he can give us of this intention is to make 
 improvements on his lot. We always take that into consi 
 deration." 
 
 In going about the town I saw a smart-looking bank, whose 
 pointed turret cut the simple lines of Guthrie architecture ; next 
 a big business building being erected and superintended by the 
 Socialist architect; then a wooden Catholic church, spacious 
 and well looked after. The proprietors of these estates are as 
 sure to keep them as if they were holding their titles in order. 
 Entering the church, I found a Benedictine Sister teaching a 
 class of children, of whom a certain number were Protestants. 
 She is of Belgian origin, and told me that the Benedictines have 
 missions already old in the Indian Territory. This gave them 
 the idea of coming to Oklahoma. This is another type of 
 settlers. A Benedictine Father whom I met there told me that 
 he had bought the ground around his church and around his little 
 log-house beside it. "You see," he added, "we consider the 
 property really established as it has become exchangeable." 
 
 In fine, the uncertainty allowed by the law of first occupancy 
 has a corrective. In case of dispute, the proprietorship of a lot 
 is allotted to the one who seriously settled and worked hardest 
 after taking possession of it. Everybody can t build a bank or 
 a church, but he can raise a little log-house ; he can surround it 
 with a strong fence, and I have seen the brave fellows making 
 a primitive kitchen-garden in front of their door, while others, 
 with stronger leanings to elegance, formed little flower-gardens, 
 surrounding them with broken preserve boxes. 
 
 Thus the settler is installed in new territory. We have seen 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 33 
 
 him arrive; and doubtless many of my readers will ask how he 
 can cultivate and improve the land he has appropriated. He 
 needs help from the railroad for this. We have just learned of 
 the secret understanding existing between Couch and the Santa 
 Fe Company at the opening of Oklahoma. Compacts like this 
 occur everywhere, for if the railroads have need of the settlers, 
 the settlers have a greater need of the railroads, because without 
 them they cannot send off their produce or procure a crowd of 
 things which they deem indispensable. It must be clearly un 
 derstood that the American is not a peasant living exclusively 
 and directly on his land. He eats meats preserved in Chicago, 
 drinks tea from China and coffee from the Antilles, wears clothes 
 made in Europe or in the manujacturing centres of New En 
 gland, chews tobacco from Virginia and reads journals from 
 everywhere. He gets all these with dollars, and he gathers the 
 dollars by sending to a distance the produce which nobody 
 wants in districts where they are plentiful. The railroad is the 
 connecting link necessary for the life of the one and of the other ; 
 and only after its construction does the land begin to be valu 
 able. In Oklahoma, owing to its special situation, the railroad 
 was already built. Let us now see how they go about forming 
 one where it does not yet exist. 
 
 IV. THE INFLUENCE OF THE RAILROADS. 
 
 When we wish a railroad in France we intrigue with the 
 Deputies, Senators and Ministers to force some company to 
 build it. Thus it happens that even the smallest of our Sub- 
 Prefectures are served by lines very burdensome to those who 
 made them. In return for these charges which the State im 
 poses, it guarantees an interest to the great companies, and 
 this money comes out of the taxpayers pockets. So that in 
 France many of the railroads are affairs of luxury rather 
 than matters of business. 
 
 It is quite different in the United States. An undertaking 
 which will not pay, which brings in no interest, is soon aban 
 doned, and it is left all the quicker because no artificial stay 
 exists there to support it ; each works for itself, and the Govern- 
 
34 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 ment leaves to private enterprise the building of railroads 
 wherever they may be useful, without giving them any monop 
 oly or any guarantee of interest. The only question asked, 
 before deciding about any line, is, " Will there be any money in 
 it ?" In an inhabited district its natural resources are carefully 
 calculated, and if the examintation be satisfactory, the track is 
 laid. But, you say, how do they get the money for such a 
 costly and risky untertaking? For, if one be deceived as to 
 the advantages of the region crossed, if settlers do not come, 
 then ruin is complete? 
 
 Doubtless ; but in the United States the people who build 
 railroads are usually rich enough to do it three or four times 
 over, so that it is sufficient if they be convinced of the advan 
 tages of the undertaking and are decided to run all risks. In 
 the second place, the tracks are laid as simply and as economi 
 cally as possible. In the East the old and rich companies, 
 whose lines pass through a very populous country, are begin 
 ning to introduce the special refinements of constrution to 
 which we in France are accustomed. This is the case, for in 
 stance, with the Pennsylvania Railroad ; but if some of the 
 profits are spent in the bettering of the iron-road, future profits 
 are never compromised by sinking at the outset too large a 
 capital in the cost of construction. Those who would under 
 stand the American railroad system must remember these two 
 most important points: they are much more the outcome of 
 individual enterprise than ours are, and, consequently, they 
 must suffice in themselves they must pay. For this, it is 
 nescessary to transform the solitudes through which they pass 
 to inhabited and cultivated lands. The creators of Western 
 railroad companies have accomplished only a part of their 
 task when they have carried out the proper construction of a 
 track. 
 
 The State owning vacant land usually concedes, gratuitously, 
 a certain amount of ground alongside the track of newly-formed 
 companies. The soil is completely divided in sections of a 
 square mile, and companies get, for instance, one section in two 
 north of such a line between such and such points. So that 
 they are interested in the early settlement of a long tract of 
 land and can stimulate it by whatever means they judge fit. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 35 
 
 This is an encouragement given them by the authorities in 
 return for the public good which they do ; but this does not 
 mean much unless the companies are well organized and know 
 how to attract settlers to regions of no value in themselves. 
 Thus, in all the West each well-managed railroad company 
 claims for its own line that it is the best track. Here is a 
 specimen, copied from the Great Northern : 
 
 HOMESTEADS CLOSE TO RAILROADS AND MARKETS. 
 
 Chances for Raising Horses and Cattle, Sheep and Hogs ; for Growing 
 
 Cereals and Root Crops ; for Mining Precious Metals, and 
 
 Living in the Healthiest Part of the Continent. 
 
 1%/TONTANA is a large State, larger than all of New England, a 
 ** \^ hundred times larger than Rhode Island, nearly four times as 
 large as Ohio, and half again as large as the great State of Minnesota. 
 The following diagram of comparative sizes may aid in giving the 
 reader a better idea than mere words of the vastness of this new and 
 growing commonwealth : 
 
 MONTANA - - 
 Area. MINNESOTA 
 OHIO 
 MASSACHUSETTS 
 
 Population. In population the contrast is the other way; Mon 
 
 tana has a population of 160,000 ; Ohio has 4,000,000. 
 
 MONTANA. 
 
 OHIO 
 
 This very clearly announces the fact that there is room in Montana for 
 more people indeed, millions of them. 
 
 THE GREAT RESERVATION, 
 
 Recently opened to settlement, is quite as large as the State of Ohio 
 itself, and has 18,000,000 acres eligible to entry for free homes under 
 the beneficent Federal Land Laws. The Great Northern Railway 
 
36 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 has no land grant within this limit, and no land to sell, and there are 
 no land grant restrictions, such as exist almost everywhere else in the 
 West. The only benefit inuring to the road will be simply on the pro 
 ducts of the country after it is settled, as freight on ores, coal, wool, 
 grain, cattle, horses and sheep, and passenger traffic. 
 Horses, With but 160,000 population, Montana is one of the 
 
 Cattle wealthiest countries in the world. It has everything that 
 and makes money. To show how farmers and stock raisers 
 Sheep. ac q u i r e wealth, the Governor estimates that there are 
 5,000,000 horses, cattle and sheep, or a band of 32 head for each man, 
 woman and child in the State. This is almost as great a number as 
 the 4,000,000 people of Ohio own. 
 
 Then follows a description in the same style of the mineral, 
 agricultural, vegetable, fruit and other resources; then an article 
 on the climate and healthiness of the region, in which it is 
 shown that the only profession that will not pay is that of 
 doctor; and then, finally, a lyric paragraph on the Cream of the 
 Land, a sort of promised land, situated among the valleys of the 
 Upper Missouri and the Milk River. After that, nothing remains 
 but to say a word about the principal towns, and to append its 
 address, which the prospectus does not forget to do. 
 
 Such advertisements are an important branch of literature 
 in the United States, and are to be found everywhere on the 
 cars, at the hotel, and in the journals. I have quoted from 
 one, but all the lines crossing new countries issue similar pro 
 spectuses. Under my eyes is the time-table of the Chicago, 
 Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway. It is made up of one big sheet, 
 40 inches by 16 inches. All one side is taken up by a map of 
 the United States ; the other is divided into two almost equal 
 parts, one with the times of the trains, the other filled with the 
 most American laudation of the sixteen States or Territories 
 through which the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway- 
 passes. I leave you to conceive the expenditure of imagination 
 needed to vary the epithets of extravagant praise without de 
 stroying the superlative character of any one of them. 
 
 The only thing you can object to in these prospectuses is their 
 exaggerated benevolence; in substance they are true and 
 practical. It is useful to the settler and also to the Railroad 
 Company to know where the soil is clayey and where it is limy; 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 37 
 
 whether it is covered with forests or pastures, etc. All this 
 is stated with precision. But the announcements of the pro 
 spectus, however well done, will not persuade everybody, and 
 more serious proofs are needed to attract settlers, so that the 
 originators of a railroad furnish these by exploiting part of the 
 land themselves and counting its advantages on paper. Nothing 
 shows better the close connection between the making of a 
 railroad and the opening up of the territory through which it 
 passes, than the obligation its supporters feel, after having laid 
 the tracks, of transforming themselves into farmers, breeders, 
 or miners; to show an example to others, and to aid in making 
 prosperous the country they have just opened. We have already 
 seen this transformation, or rather accumulation, of different 
 occupations as a feature of the American character, and there 
 need be no surprise to hear a banker sitting behind his screen, 
 or a grocer at the back of his counter, knowingly talk of the 
 advantages of Shorthorn cattle, or Herefords, or the quality of 
 wheats, or about the best way of fattening pigs. That banker 
 and that storekeeper have been, or are still, farmers, and per 
 haps to-morrow you will visit them at their homestead. 
 
 In short, whatever be the nature of the soil, the making of a 
 railroad is the operation preliminary to making a region 
 valuable. But the nature of the soil determines the starting 
 of great ranches for cattle or horses, farms or mines. 
 
 We shall now study the formation of these ranches. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 CATTLE RAISING THE RANCHES. 
 
 I. A LARGE RANCH FOR FATTENING. 
 
 A very modest farm is sometimes called a ranch, in the West. 
 The owner of a little ground in Kansas will say to you, when 
 inviting you to go home with him, "Come along and visit my 
 ranch;" but in its general sense the word is reserved for large 
 tracts of land kept for the raising or fattening of animals. I 
 shall take my readers to one of these great establishments, that 
 of the Standard Cattle Company, which raises 35,000 head of 
 cattle in Wyoming, and fattens about 6,000 every year in Ne 
 braska. The fattening ranch of the Standard Cattle Company 
 is near Fremont, Nebraska. I was staying in that pleasant 
 little town when a friend proposed that we should go to see it. 
 I readily accepted the invitation, having heard people speak of 
 that interesting business. So we went to the telephone to ask 
 the proprietor, Mr. A., when he could show us his ranch. Mr. 
 A. has a telephone at his house and communicates with Omaha, 
 the largest market-town in the neighborhood, where he sells a 
 certain number of cattle, fit to be slaughtered. Mr. A. kindly 
 replied that he was completely at our service, and the next 
 morning, in the brilliant May sunshine, two speedy horses, hired 
 at the livery stable, pulled us in our buggy over the almost 
 trackless path across the prairie. We soon arrived at Ames, a 
 little railroad station formed there on the property itself of 
 which it is the centre. Some wooden erections, the depot, an 
 immense barn and an office, in which two or three clerks were 
 working, formed the whole. At the side of the barn a tall 
 chimney-stak rose toward the sky ; it belonged to a small steam- 
 engine for shelling and bruising the maize eaten by the animals 
 being fattened. At the first glance this made the place look 
 more like some manufactory than like an agricultural establish- 
 
40 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 merit. We hitched our horses to stakes fixed for this purpose, 
 and after waiting a moment, we saw Mr. A. coming along, 
 mounted on a little white horse. He wore yellow boots and a 
 big gray felt hat, with a twisted bit of embroidery, such as 
 cowboys usually carry. From the instant he gave us his hand 
 we felt ourselves in the presence of a gentleman. Mr. A. be 
 longs to an old Boston family, and was brought up among Bos 
 ton circles, the most aristocratic of all American centres. 
 
 He asked to be excused for his lateness, and explained that 
 he had just come from his morning ride round the ranch, and 
 then invited us to begin looking around at once. No sooner 
 said than done. Our buggy had places for four, and we were 
 but three. Mr. A. mounted beside us; we untied the horses, 
 and then started to make what we call in France le tour du 
 proprittaire. The size of the ranch, 5,000 acres, is enough to 
 explain why we did not go round it on foot; and, besides, in 
 America, nobody but tramps go on foot; a gentleman would 
 think himself dishonored were he to walk for an hour on end. 
 That would be to make publicly known that his time was 
 not worth the hire of a carriage. It is true, the roads are not 
 splendid, but the American buggy can stand all the jerks and 
 get out of all puddles ; so we ran along among the ruts, across 
 the prairie, when the track was too awkward to follow. 
 
 We first visited a corral, where the cattle are enclosed. It is in 
 a wooded part, through which runs a little creek. In the middle 
 of the black mud, made by the constant trampling of the cattle, 
 huge long troughs were raised some feet above the soil, and 
 contained enormous quantities of crushed maize and bran, and 
 blocks of salt lay here and there in these mangers. They were 
 well polished by the tongues of the animals, who came to lick 
 them and to gain in this way an added appetite favorable to 
 the interests of the ranchman. Here and there the ground is 
 strewn with hay, which the cattle come and eat in an indolent 
 way, as if resting themselves after their gourmandizing with maize 
 and bran, all the rest of the day. Each morning a man comes 
 in a wagon, spanned to two horses, and renews the supply of hay, 
 the wagon coming full and going away empty, after slowly 
 making a turn round the corral, while the man discharges it. 
 Thus supplied with abundant and varied food, near water needed 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 4! 
 
 forquenching their thirst, and protected from the sun and the 
 wind by the trees which surround them, the cattle fatten rap 
 idly. Six months on the ranch is usually enough, for 6,000 to 
 7,000 head are fattened every year, and there are no more than 
 3,000 to 3,500 there at one time. It is true that heifers are also 
 fattened, and these, counted in the average, require less time to 
 become in proper condition. 
 
 The cattle do not pass all at once from the simple life of the 
 Wyoming breeding ranch, where they crop the natural grass 
 of the prairies, to the ordinary abundance of the fattening corral ; 
 for there would be a danger in filling all at once with rich food 
 stomachs accustomed to a much less substantial nourishment. 
 They are first shut up in a vast pasturage, fenced in with barbed 
 iron wire ; there they browse on choice and specially sown grass, 
 and grow accustomed, little by little, to larger rations of bran 
 and maize. Mr. A. took us to one of these pastures, which we 
 entered, still in the buggy, without the beasts seeming to be 
 very astonished at our visit. They are evidently used to men s 
 presence; they are not the wild natives of the boundless prairie, 
 but domesticated animals. We chased them into groups, and 
 got photographs of some remarkable specimens, and then we 
 went off to another part of the ranch. 
 
 Every pasturage has water, and when it is not alongside the 
 streamlet, then water must be raised by means of wind-mills 
 from wells dug by the hands of men. These wind-mills are 
 very common in the West, and almost always one sees them 
 beside stables and dwellings which they reveal to the passer-by 
 a long way off. They save manual labor, and, as one knows 
 and can readily understand, such economy is the constant care 
 of the American. The organization of the ranch at Ames 
 showed this well, for one individual can distribute food to a 
 considerable number of animals, as nobody herds them in the 
 strongly enclosed corrals. When we came to a gate, one of 
 us jumped out and opened it. One must learn to serve one 
 self in the United States. 
 
 On the prairie, between the enclosures and the cultivated 
 ground, we saw small-sized haystacks, which are made at the 
 moment of harvesting by the aid of a machine, as simple as it 
 is ingenious, called a hay lifter. Formerly Mr. A. built the 
 
42 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 hay into big stacks, which needed a lot of labor, and after his 
 calculations the method now used yields a saving of 25 cents a 
 ton. The large stacks cost 40 cents a ton, the little ones only 
 15 cents. 
 
 More and more, too, his experience leads him to prefer small 
 installations apart from the great central buildings. We came 
 to such a farm place at a considerable distance from the station 
 at Ames, and it was one of the two or three little settlements 
 that Mr. A. is now building on his ranch. When he began to 
 manage the ranch his first thought was to centralize every 
 thing in one place ; but he soon learned the inconveniences of 
 this system, and deplored the heavy expenditure he had made 
 at first, because of this plan. The great barn which had at 
 tracted our attention on arriving is one of these unfortunate 
 expenditures. It was believed that the severity of the Winter 
 in Nebraska would necessitate an enormous building, in which 
 to keep the fattening cattle during the worst season; and 
 to provide for this, Mr. A. did not hesitate to spend $15,000 for 
 the barn, which had not been of any use to him during the 
 past two Winters. He would willingly get rid of it could he 
 find anybody to take it off his hands. These wooden build 
 ings have the great advantage of being easily taken down and 
 transported. " I must sell it to an Englishman," Mr. A. said 
 to me ; and as I could not understand why he wished a British 
 buyer, he added, " It is an expression in this country. When 
 we wish to get rid of some encumbrance at a high price, we 
 cannot count on getting it from Americans, who are too prac 
 tical and too primitive in their ways of working to risk it ; but 
 a young Englishman, newly landed, is inexperienced and has 
 money in his pocket, and will easily believe in the utility 
 of such a thing as he is used to a complicated and ad 
 vanced agriculture in Europe." It is the same in Switzerland, 
 where the English tourists are generally provided with a host 
 of things field glasses, plaids, baskets of provisions, pocket 
 medicine-chests,water-proofs, etc., of which more are hindrances 
 than useful. The American tries to simplify and goes 
 around the world without luggage, in a flannel shirt and a cellu 
 loid collar. The same contrast can be seen in everything. 
 
 Mr. A. not only divides the direct administration of the ranch 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 43 
 
 into several separate groups, but he has different combinations 
 in cultivating his land. In fact, the property is not all in hay- 
 meadows or in pasturage, but 2,500 acres are mown, 1,200 
 acres are in pasture, and 1,400 acres are cultivated. Even 
 then he must buy a large quantity of maize from outside. Of 
 these 1,400 acres, 800 are wrought by the farm-hands 
 and form a single magnificent field of maize. The rest is rented 
 to tenants. Some pay Mr. A. a third of their harvest and keep 
 the other two-thirds as the price of their labor ; some receive 
 thirteen cents for each bushel they sell, while others lease the 
 land at an average price of fifteen bushels an acre, or the same 
 in money ; but this last is the rarest arrangement, as Mr. A., 
 above all, is anxious to get part of the enormous quantity of 
 maize which he needs every year. 
 
 So arise in the most distant States all the modes of 
 tenure known in Europe. Owing to the independence of the 
 employees, recourse is had more and more to the system which 
 frees the ranchman of a supervision truly too weighty and of 
 an overwhelming confusion. Even with tenants he has his 
 cares. 
 
 We had been driving in the open air since eight in the 
 morning and the energizing breezes of Nebraska had made us 
 forget the bad breakfast we had at the hotel ; so we were de 
 lighted to accept the gracious invitation of Mr. A. to come and 
 lunch with him. The telephone had already forewarned Mrs. 
 A., for as soon as the team drew up in front of her pleasant 
 wooden-house, she came out to bid us welcome, and a 
 few minutes later we entered a large and elegant dining-room 
 where lunch awaited us. I do not remember the dishes that 
 made up that lunch, for I had a huge appetite and the enjoy 
 ment of sitting down with well-bred and intelligent people, 
 perfectly acquainted with ranch-life, far outweighed the gastro 
 nomic pleasures. It is always pleasant to fall in with amiable 
 hosts and good company when travelling, but when that meet 
 ing takes place away in Nebraska, it adds a charm to it of the 
 first order. Mrs. A. lived for several years in Texas and in 
 Wyoming, and is a true ranchwoman ; she is also a true-born 
 lady. She passed her youth in New York, of which she was 
 a native; journeyed in Europe for a couple of years; knows 
 
44 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 French literature perfectly and speaks with as much ease, either 
 in English or in French, of her husband s herds or Daudet s 
 latest novel. Further, she interested herself in all her duties as 
 mistress of the house. The young German girl, in a light 
 gown, who waited on us at the table, it appeared was not very 
 strong, and Mrs. A. told me how she made her go out on horse 
 back, because it is a healthy exercise. Of course she keeps 
 house herself, and manages the details of every section- 
 kitchen, poultry-yard, kitchen-garden, etc. 
 
 Mr. M., the friend who introduced us, brings her asparagus 
 and different ornamental plants, which she has not yet. It is 
 a practise among neighbors to exchange vegetables, flowers 
 and fruits, as still happens in some of the Provinces of France 
 which have retained their simplicity, where the gentlemen of 
 the same district give each other mutual help in embellishing 
 their gardens. One feels that one is in a very rural neighbor 
 hood, where everybody is interested in country matters; and, 
 indeed, how could one live on a Nebraska ranch without that? 
 Folks are the more interested in these things because they 
 have a personal share in them, and the care of a thousand little 
 details often becomes a source of pleasure. What really pleased 
 me most in our hosts was their contentment with their lot; 
 and nothing, in all the pleasure of intercourse can replace that 
 precious quality of inner contentment; nothing either can re 
 place it in the sound direction of life. Certainly, if some good 
 fairy could suddenly transport in the midst of this active living 
 society many of those idlers troubled with ennui, to whom 
 existence is a burden, because they take it lazily, they would 
 there recover the taste for life, and would end by understanding 
 that it is bearable only when useful and interesting, only when 
 occupied. The Americans teach us a great lesson in this, for 
 amongst them we find few of those morose, sour, life-weary 
 spirits, produced only in society exclusively devoted to the 
 pursuit of pleasure. They accept the struggle which is imposed 
 on our humanity as a beneficent necessity, and, after the ex 
 ample of good soldiers, they taste all the sweets of victory all 
 the sweeter, because such victory is entirely due to themselves, 
 to their own efforts. That lesson is well worth a voyage to 
 America. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 45 
 
 After lunch we inspected the large and comfortable house, 
 which costs $10,000 and clearly indicates a settled establish 
 ment. A veranda runs the whole length of the chief elevation, 
 and it is a pleasant place for smoking a cigar or abandoning 
 oneself to the pleasures of conversation, combined with those 
 of a rocking-chair. In the parlor, well lit by big windows, a 
 good piano occupies the place of honor, and several bedrooms, 
 simply but well furnished, complete the dwelling. It is several 
 hundred yards from the office where we arrived in the morn 
 ing, and also from the little depot of Ames ; nevertheless, in the 
 entrance-hall was a telephone, whose bell every now and then 
 called our host away to business. Through it he communicated 
 with Omaha, and gave us news of that day s sale. That morn 
 ing he had sold a wagon of heifers for $3.85 per 100 pounds, 
 and one of cattle for $4.40 per 100 pounds. l 
 
 When he thinks it will pay better, Mr. A. sends to Chicago. 
 The telephone and the telegraph allow him to keep in constant 
 communication with the different sale centres in the States, and 
 to decide to which to send his stock. Often, too, he receives 
 offers and effects sales without leaving the ranch. 
 
 May days are long, and Mr. A. wished us to inspect his im 
 provements as thoroughly as possible. We mounted the buggy, 
 which this time belonged to Mr. A. It was very strong, and 
 was spanned by an Oregon mare and a Wyoming horse, as full of 
 ardor as their master. With this turnout we got over a lot of 
 ground in a very short time, and, omitting the coarseness of 
 the ground passed on the way, nothing could be more agreeable 
 than that rapid drive, directed by a firm and experienced hand. 
 Mr. A. delighted in showing us the pace of his team, which he 
 had raised and partly trained himself. One felt that he was 
 happy at his success, and that he enjoyed the pleasure of driv 
 ing us through the midst of his work. As in the morning, we 
 
 I For readers whom it may interest, I may say that the price should be under 
 stood for live weight. In changing it into French measures and in supposing 40 
 per cent, to be the difference between a pound live weight and a pound net, which 
 is that generally allowed for animals in prime condition, the following are the 
 prices : 
 
 Heifers (meat net; o fr. 6ic. per kilog. 
 
 Beef (meat net) o fr. 68c per kilog. 
 i ?., nearly half the prices paid at La Villette, in Paris. 
 
46 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 saw the pasturage again, picturesquely situated on the banks 
 of a pond, in the shadow of the cottonwood and box-helders, 
 where vast flocks of wild ducks sported in the water and the 
 sun shone on Mr. A. s magnificent Herefords, giving to the 
 whole scene a feeling of poetry, recalling the beautiful pictures 
 of Troyon. A little further, we came to the piggeries, vast 
 wooden erections, very low and very primitive. The brood- 
 sows were also kept in wooden enclosures, and they looked like 
 animals exposed at the agricultural show of some little town. 
 The fattening pigs wallow near their half-full troughs, waiting 
 till returning appetite lets them empty them. It is the image 
 of abundance ; five hundred pigs live on the ranch. 
 
 As we strolled along the banks of the River Platte, which 
 bounds the property, we talked with Mr. A. about the organi 
 zation of the ranch. His greatest difficulty is to find faithful 
 and hard-working men whom he can attach to himself ; for those 
 whom he would like to keep prefer some place of their own, 
 something to direct themselves to the highest wages he can 
 offer. In a country where everything favors independence, no 
 one rests in a subordinate position when he feels the possibility 
 of succeeding. Heaven witnesses that their conditions on the 
 ranch are pleasant enough ! Some of them receive as much as 
 $500 a year, have a seperate house where they live with their 
 families, when they are married, and have liberty to raise as 
 many animals as they need. A worker thus installed in a home, 
 with one or two milch cows, a pair of horses and some pigs, 
 cannot seem, to us in France, to have much to complain of. 
 
 As evening came on, we turned back again to the house to 
 get our horses and say good-bye to Mrs. A. When passing 
 his office, Mr. A. stopped and asked me to step in on bringing 
 back his horses. Everybody here is supposed to know how to 
 mount a horse or manage a team. This seems as natural as 
 walking. A few moments later we took leave of our agree 
 able host and hostess, carrying away memories of a charming 
 and profitable day. Better than all book arguments, Mr. A. 
 had shown me, by his simple manner in the midst of his ranch, 
 by the pleasure he took in showing us his animals, by his affa 
 bility and his education as a gentleman, what immense re 
 sources are still to be found in the old Eastern society, of 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 47 
 
 which he was a member, and what services this society renders 
 every day to the younger Western States. She gives them 
 a truly superior class ; she is, as regards them, a nursery of 
 governors of men, and the rapid fusion of the many diverse 
 elements which mingle on the vacant lands has no other cause. 
 It acts under the influence of those choice elements who are 
 heads of the movement and who stamp the impression of their 
 origin on the whole country. Without wishing to be poetical, 
 I must confess that on getting back to Freemont that night I 
 had the impression of having seen at work, in this nineteenth 
 century, a founder of society similar, in more ways than one, 
 to those whose memory and popular imagination preserved 
 and made poetic in olden times. This notion may seem to be 
 exaggerated at first sight, but if the reader will carefully 
 reflect; if he will calculate all the obstacles to be overcome in 
 creating and conducting such an undertaking in a semi-desert 
 land ; if he will picture to himself the energy needed to conquer 
 it, to turn to his service a crowd of obstinate elements without 
 having at hand a single means of compulsion, he will gain an 
 accurate notion of the truth of the comparison. Further, use 
 what mathematicians call a reductio ad absurdum : imagine a 
 blockhead, some poor wretch, some man without energy, on 
 the ranch at Ames, and consider what would happen ! Every 
 thing would fall to pieces in a few days. It requires, then, all 
 the converse qualities for directing such a concern ; and, as 
 the undertaking is a big one, it needs them in a high degree. 
 
 Mr. A. does not own all the 5,000 acres of Ames himself, 
 nor the enormous capital of the two ranches. Two of his 
 cousins, capitalists in Boston, are in partnership with him, and 
 run the great affair under the name of the Standard Cattle 
 Company. Such form of property is often found in other 
 ranches, those engaged in raising stock being specially fitted 
 for it. We will now seek the reason. 
 
 II. DIFFERENT TYPES OF RANCHES. 
 
 44 In Wyoming," said Mr. A. to me, " I own only 160 acres of 
 land, like any ordinary settler ; but we let our cattle graze over 
 thousands of acres, for pasturage is free as long as the soil is 
 
48 AMERICAN LIKE. 
 
 unoccupied. We bear the expense and divide the profits of 
 exploitation according to each one s share in the herds; and 
 should we wish to liquidate to-morrow, all we should have to 
 do would be to drive our cattle to the nearest market, for we 
 are not tied, as we are here, by a large tract of land on which 
 we have carried out costly improvements." 
 
 Thus we see that the business of simply rearing cattle is one 
 which may be started and given up much more readily than a 
 ranch for fattening. It is, therefore, much easier to do this in 
 a collective way. The ranchmen who club together are not in 
 dividually bound the one to the other. This is why we 
 shall find, on the horse-ranches, for instance, more societies 
 than the Standard Cattle Company. At Fleur-de-lys 
 Ranch, in Dakota, five or six young Frenchmen have joined 
 with Baron de Grancey in breeding horses. They patriotically 
 mix the blood of Perche stallions with that of American mares 
 too light for draught purposes. Then there are silent partners 
 Easterners, or even Europeans, who put a ranchman in charge 
 of their capital, to make it grow by exploiting a troop of horses 
 or a herd of cattle. There are still other points in which these 
 ranches differ from the one we have just visited. As there is no 
 cultivation, they are less complicated in management. Grazing 
 is the simplest kind of exploitation that exists, for the animals 
 of a breeding-ranch wander over the prarie all the year round, 
 feeding exclusively on the natural grass which formerly the 
 bison cropped. 
 
 Ranch life is rough rather than laborious. Interminable rides 
 on horseback, in the burning heat of Summer or the biting cold 
 of Winter, are its main features. Of work, properly speaking, 
 there is little, and what there is chiefly consists of looking 
 after the animals, in preventing a mixing with neighboring 
 troops, and breaking-in young horses. Good health, plenty 
 of energy and physical strength, and a taste for open-air 
 life are the qualities needed in cowboys intrusted with these 
 duties. 
 
 The cowboy is a type totally different from that of the farm- 
 help whom we saw at Mr. A. s, in Nebraska. There is nothing 
 agricultural about him, and he would think he had demeaned 
 himself if he dug or ploughed an acre of ground. He enjoys 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 49 
 
 gambling, drinking and noisy pleasures. He is a bronzed war 
 rior, admirable in the face of pressing danger, or when a violent 
 effort is needed ; but he is also careless, intemperate and im 
 provident. 
 
 The managers have the same character. There are in the 
 Unitee States some ancient non-commissioned officers of our 
 cavalry young men of good family, whom their parents have 
 sent to the Far West, and who, in the isolation of a ranch, de 
 velop some of the sterling qualities which never get exercised 
 in our European society. Of course, many of them return home 
 at the end of a few years, without a cent. Others, again, gain 
 experience, learn their own value and become men. 
 
 If the breeding ranch be less complicated than the fattening 
 ranch, on the other hand it is run at greater risks. In the first 
 place, high-priced stallions are a necessity. To make breeding 
 profitable first rate animals must be produced, and consequently 
 a considerable outlay is necessary from the beginning to get 
 good breeders. Generally, these are brought from Europe. 
 For some years our Perche horse-breeders have found a profit 
 able market in America, and have competed successfully with 
 the Shires and Clydesdales imported from England. The 
 Perche cross generally succeeds remarkably well, and gives to 
 the Americans excellent draught horses, by strengthening their 
 somewhat light races. Arabian and " French Coach " stallions 
 are also used to produce animals of more elegant and less heavy 
 forms. Imported stallions, no matter of what breed, command 
 very high prices in America. Perches vary from $1,000 to 
 $3,000, and Shires and Clydesdales usually reach the latter 
 figure. In explanation it must be mentioned that none but 
 model animals are imported, and that a horse for which 4,000 
 francs ($800) is paid in the Perche, must be resold for $1,600 
 in the States to give a fair profit. It is only by doubling the 
 original price that the expense of transport, of middlemen, of 
 feeding, and the considerable risk of the voyage can be cov 
 ered. A horse always suffers when afloat; he usually reaches 
 port thin and in very poor condition, with congested fetlocks 
 and stiff legs. The importer is obliged to keep him long enough 
 to bring him into good condition again, and, finally, he must 
 find a solvent purchaser, wait three or four years before the 
 
50 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 price is paid in full, and often seize the land which has been 
 given as security. 
 
 The same inconvenience occurs in the case of bulls, which are 
 brought principally from England. Herefords or Shorthorns 
 are usually found on the large ranches, and they are often sold 
 to the breeders for higher prices than the stallions. I have sev 
 eral times seen a bull bring $2,500, and it is not at all uncom 
 mon to find four of this value on the same property. Any ac 
 cident to such animals means a considerable loss of money, and 
 hence I was right in saying that the proprietor of a breeding- 
 ranch has to run considerable risks. 
 
 Nor are these the only ones. In the severe climate of the 
 Northwest in Montana, for instance the Winters are long and 
 the animals find but little food. In Spring they look a mel- 
 ancholly show of leanness, and some succumb altogether when 
 the weather is particularly bad. The horses can withstand ex 
 treme cold much better than the cattle. They scratch the white 
 coating off the ground with their feet, that they may find under 
 the thick layer of frozen snow the dry hay it has covered up, 
 and so keep themselves alive until the return of the warm sea 
 son ; but cattle have a great difficulty in resisting. I knew a 
 Wyoming ranchman who lost 20,000 head of cattle more than 
 half his stock in a single Winter. Such disasters do not hap 
 pen on the horse-ranches. 
 
 On the other hand, horses are often stolen by unscrupulous 
 people who make a living by this lucrative occupation. In 
 these almost desert regions, where policemen are out of the 
 way, where the ranchman knows his own animal by the mark 
 of the red iron branded on them, where the troops often stray 
 to great distances from any habitation, it is easy to get hold 
 of a band of horses and drive them rapidly in front to some 
 distant market, where the thief can pass them off and sell them 
 as his own. This thieving is common, and the horse-stealer is 
 the terror of the honest ranchman. It was against him that 
 the famous " lynch-law " was first framed, which permits honest 
 people to get rid of rascals, in order not to be done away with 
 by them. 
 
 The innumerable tricks of these horse-stealers are often the 
 subject of conversation in the Far West. When the cowboys, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 51 
 
 gathered of an evening round the stove of their little wooden 
 hut, are smoking their pipes and drying their clothes, each one 
 tells of the wondrous adventures he has seen ; and stories of 
 stolen horses and of lynched thieves are constantly related. 
 
 One of the best tales of the ruses of horse-stealers, is told by 
 the anonymous author of "A Lady s Ranch Life in Montana." 
 A ranchman owned a remarkable lot of mares, which grazed at 
 liberty on the neighboring slopes. One day he received a visit 
 from a person who privately warned him, on account of the 
 great friendship he felt for him, of the great danger they ran 
 there. " If I were you," he said, " I would not leave them 
 loose all night. Shut them up in the corral (a sort of fenced 
 park); they will be safer there." Grateful for this good advice, 
 and happy to find this proof of his friend s honesty, the con 
 fiding ranchman rode after his mares and drove them into the 
 corral. The next morning they had disappeared ! The friend 
 of over night had easily evaded the watch of the keeper, and 
 had secured a first rate catch in letting the proprietor pick out 
 the best of the band. 
 
 Beside these large properties of which we have been speak 
 ing, there are very many smaller ones. Whenever the country 
 is being peopled, land tends to rise in price and becomes 
 divided up. Where maize grows well, every settler who has a 
 little capital at his disposal uses it to buy cattle to turn his 
 maize into meat ; and as fodder is plentiful in the West, it 
 becomes easy for this man to breed a part of the stock he 
 wishes to fatten, and thus form a ranch for fattening and breed 
 ing. This is a very common type, especially in Kansas. We 
 shall describe one of those we saw there : 
 
 Mr. C., a Frenchman, owns, in all, 274 acres of ground near 
 the little town of Florence, in Marion County. He has about 
 all of it cultivated by tenants, on special terms somewhat simi 
 lar to those noted at Mr. A. s fattening-ranch. He sells the 
 wheat he gets from his tenants, but keeps the maize to feed the 
 animals he fattens during the Winter on the small piece of 
 ground he reserves. In Summer the herd does not live on his 
 property, but is sent off to pasture, five or six miles away, 
 where the cpwboys watch them from the ist of May until the 
 1 5th of October, at a cost of $1.25 per head. This pasture- 
 
52 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 land is nothing but the natural Kansas prairie, where formerly 
 the Indians hunted the bison. This sum that Mr. C. pays for 
 feeding his cattle during the fine season is thus only the ex 
 pense of watching them. When the first Winter colds come 
 on, the herd is brought back and gets on with the Winter food. 
 When Mr. C. settled he built a big barn for fattening animals 
 in ; but experience has taught him, as it did Mr. A., that it is 
 better to leave them outside. He showed us the twenty-five 
 steers he is fattening this Winter in a corral. At first sight they 
 seemed curious. Their horns had been cut level with their 
 heads, in order to avoid the dangers of quarrels and to facilitate 
 their feeding together. The want of horns is exceedingly 
 ugly, but it has its practical advantages, and Kansas ranchmen, 
 little concerned about the aesthetic, are not influenced by it. 
 The corral is small only about five acres; there are different 
 varities of trees; nuts, box-helders, etc., are scattered about it 
 and a conspicuously-winding creek forms one boundary. ] 
 
 In the centre stands a large wooden box, open on the top 
 and filled with maize in the ear, and all round the box, at a 
 convenient height, runs a crib, communicating with the interior 
 by several openings. The weight of the maize is enough to 
 make it fall down into the manger as the cattle empty it, so 
 that there is always plenty of food for them without anyone 
 being there. When the maize is all eaten, more is shovelled 
 into the box with a spade. Nothing we see could be more 
 primitive. The cattle do not eat very carefully the ears of 
 maize thus given to them. They take them between their 
 powerful jaws, indolently chew them, and strew the ground 
 with the remains of their meal. This has been foreseen, for 
 seventy pigs that live in the corral, mixed up with the cattle, 
 feed on these leavings. Often the ranchmen, careful to use 
 the maize without losing any of it, let some turkeys into the 
 corral, and these make a last inspection of it. In spite of all 
 this, the maize was mixed with the thick mud through which 
 we waded, so much of it is thrown about. Here and there we 
 knocked against a tub of salt, for stimulating the appetite of 
 the oxen ; of lime, to sweeten their stomachs, they told me ; 
 
 I In the West every little streamlet is called a creek. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 53 
 
 and also of sulphur, to guard against swine diseases. The ani 
 mals are thus looked after, but in the simplest and most ele 
 mentary way. For fattening cattle, they give them also, as at 
 Mr. A. s, a mixture of bran and crushed maize, but the meat is 
 not so good here since they deal with trade stock, while Mr. 
 A. had nothing on his ranch but Herefords or Shorthorns, of 
 which he made a point of choosing the best beasts. The sale 
 price shows the difference clearly. I was at Mr. C. s when a 
 dealer from Kansas City came to buy his twenty-five cattle. 
 He got them for $1,500, that is about $4.00 per hundred 
 pounds. Mr. A., we saw, got $4.40 at Omaha, about four 
 centimes the more net weight. Yet Mr. C. s neighbors thought 
 he had made a good bargain. 
 
 Nothing is more curious than the way in which they drive 
 cattle to the depot. Mr. C. and his man, both on horseback 
 and armed with long leather-thonged whips, drive in front of 
 them at a smart trot their twenty-five animals, quite surprised 
 at such unaccustomed treatment. All that stray off the road 
 are brought back with much whip-cracking, and thus they ar 
 rive at the. yard, a kind of field alongside the track for the cattle 
 that are to be shipped off. 
 
 At the side of the fattening corral, Mr. C. has a winter 
 pasture, where 108 animals are kept, eighty of those to be fat 
 tened the next year. The others are cows and young calves, 
 one of which, born three days before, placidly received the 
 heavy rain on its back. If it can stand such a test, good and 
 well; if it dies, one must just console oneself, for there is no 
 time to surround it with precautions, to shut it up in a stable 
 with its mother; that would teach it sybaritic habits, to which 
 the hands are not numerous enough to attend. Indeed, Mr. 
 C. has only one man to help him in looking after all the cattle 
 and to take charge of the work-horses. 
 
 This little ranch is an excellent specimen of a limited under 
 taking. The stock fattened is not usually raised here. " For 
 that," said Mr. C., "I should need a herd of 500 head, and that 
 would be a nice mess." Every superfluous care is avoided as 
 much as possible, and the business is conducted with little 
 capital. It is the installation of a settler with small means and 
 preferring to have less income in the long run than to risk 
 
54 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 large sums of money. The French character sage, steady, 
 economical, but with little enterprise is well seen in these 
 traits. 
 
 Some miles away, another modest-sized ranch, managed by 
 two young brothers Englishmen forms a striking contrast to 
 this one. There they pride themselves on having picked 
 animals; a white-headed Hereford is preferred to a Shorthorn, 
 because it is more rustic and earlier and heavier. I also saw 
 three animals completely black, which they told me were Gallo 
 ways; and running about among the fattening cattle were pigs 
 of the Polan-China breed, a much appreciated cross, which gives 
 animals red bristles of a most picturesque appearance. I noted 
 a breeding cow considered worth $500 and a bull worth $2,400, 
 which had taken the first prize at a recent competition among 
 the five States Iowa, Nebraska, Illinois, Missouri and Kansas. 
 On this ranch there are $30,000 worth of bulls and stallions. 
 
 I visited a sheep-ranch in the same district, which belonged 
 to a Prussian settler, Mr. W., who had erected large stone- 
 buildings, carefully disposed. Evidently he had a desire to 
 settle permanently. No American would ever do as he did 
 and spend $20,000 in putting up his flocks. Indeed, the 
 Americans rarely succeed at sheep-breeding, for they find that 
 they want too assiduous attention, and a very great deal of 
 it, it seems, after what I saw that day. In the prairie we met 
 1,200 sheep watched by three men, and I expressed surprise to 
 Mr. W. that it should require so many men at once for so 
 simple an affair. In Australia two or three shepherds are 
 enough for a run of 20,000 sheep. Mr. W. explained to me 
 that his property was not fenced in, as Australian runs are, 
 which makes the herding more difficult ; "and then," he con 
 tinued, "all the settlers of Kansas who go in for sheep-breed 
 ing without keeping on the lookout at every instant, lose both 
 their time and their money. That is the best reason I can give 
 you. Here I take a thousand precautions, and it is only by 
 so doing that I manage to live at all. Every night part of the 
 flock is driven into the big barn that you see near the house, 
 and the rest sleep on the prairie, in a series of parks, which are 
 shifted every now and then ; and at the same time the wooden 
 house on wheels is shifted, and the shepherd whose turn it is to 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 55 
 
 watch retires to it when night comes on." We passed close 
 beside one of these, which was exactly like a Gipsy caravan, 
 such as is met on any of the roads in France. The shepherd 
 has more to do than watch the sheep ; every day he deals 
 out to them a little bran, maize or turnips ; he superintends the 
 lambing and ear-marks each newly-born lamb with its mother s 
 number, by means of a little leather thong, which fastens a zinc 
 plate. Thus, when a lamb strays they are able to seek for 
 the ewe to which it belongs and return it to her. In spite 
 of this, Mr. W. told me that he lost 10 per cent, of his young 
 lambs last year. 
 
 The mean yield of the clipping is eight pounds of wool per 
 head. Four thousand sheep or ewes were shorn in the Spring 
 of 1889, and the 32,000 pounds of wool yielded are still (April, 
 1890) in the ranch-buildings. Mr. W. could get only eight to 
 ten cents a pound, and hopes that Merino wool, such as his, 
 will soon be at its normal price of twenty cents per pound once 
 more. He is counting principally on the protective tariff, but 
 the Eastern manufacturers, who desire to have manufactured 
 goods very highly taxed, are not nearly so anxious to see a rise 
 in the price of the raw material which they use; and as Pro 
 tectionist influences are precisely manufacturing ones, the sheep- 
 farmers find no echo to their demands, either among the Pro 
 tectionist party, and certainly not among Free Traders. This 
 strange situation leads to this, that the sheep-farmers are the 
 only agriculturists in the States who suffer from foreign com 
 petition. All the others, whether they cultivate the ground or 
 raise cattle, grow more wheat, more maize, more meat than the 
 country can consume ; while, on the other hand, the factories 
 of New England cannot get all their wool in the States, at least 
 all the qualities of the wool that they need. On the other hand, 
 Mr. W. sells his fat sheep at $3. 74 to $5.00 per hundred pounds, 
 live weight, dearer, that is, than the corresponding quantity of 
 beef. When I visited his ranch he had 800 all ready for the 
 market, at Kansas City. 
 
 This journey over the ranches has shown us many diverse 
 elements that greatly contribute to forming American society. 
 In the great fattening ranches we have met the eminent type 
 of American settlers ; in the breeding-ranches we have seen the 
 
56 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 first tilling of the soil by the most adventurous pioneers ; the 
 little ranches have given us a glimpse of the formation of an 
 intermediate class of proprietors ; and it must be noted that we 
 have not yet come across the poor immigrant, who arrives with 
 no riches but the force of his arm. We shall meet him in the 
 course of this work, but there is no use searching for him on 
 the ranches. 
 
 We must now trace the history of the animals produced by 
 the ranches and sold to be killed. It is the natural sequel of 
 the subject. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CATTLE MARKETS. THE GREAT MEAT CITIES. 
 
 As the fattening-ranch is the necessary supplement to the 
 breeding-ranch, so is the meat-city a necessary extension of 
 the fattening-ranch. The fattened beast must be butchered. 
 
 You will inform me that cattle are killed in all countries 
 without needing meat-cities for it ; that each town, big or 
 little, has its slaughter-houses and its butchers stores, as it has 
 its bake-houses and its grocery stores, in the measure of its 
 needs, and that we have not a single town in Europe based on 
 its butcher business. Lyons is a silk city, Bordeaux the town 
 for wines, Newcastle and Cardiff coal ports, and Manchester the 
 metropolis of cotton, etc. ; but in no centre is the butcher s 
 anything but a retail trade. 
 
 In the States, however, there are several towns where butcher 
 ing is a great industry and the source of its riches. The most 
 famous of these, Chicago, has given us in the last thirty years 
 an example of the most unprecedented development of the 
 most extraordinary boom that can be imagined. Neither 
 Pittsburgh, the flourishing iron city, nor Denver, the centre of 
 metal-yielding mines in the Rocky Mountains, have realized 
 such a great career so suddenly ; and it is on the wholesale 
 slaughter of cattle and pigs that the prosperity of Chicago is 
 based. If you doubt it, open the first New York comic paper 
 that you come across, and you will be very unlucky if you do 
 not find some satire in it addressed to lard-sellers in Chicago. 
 
 o 
 
 Do not wrong yourself, however, for the satire matters little to 
 them, provided that the prices of salt-provisions keep high and 
 that Europe needs its preserved meats. One can truly say of 
 Chicago, in altering somewhat a well-known formula, " When 
 the meat goes, all goes." 
 
58 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 I. WHY AND HOW THE MEAT-CITIES WERE BORN. 
 
 A very simple fact has determined the formation in the 
 United States of these great slaughter centres. In that 
 country it is impossible to eat all the meat grown, so some of 
 it must be exported ; and as they cannot get rid of it except 
 very far away, on other continents, it must be put in the most 
 convenient form for transport. Hence, large slaughter-houses 
 are formed, not for local needs, but in view of exportation ; 
 and as this exportation opens an almost limitless market, these 
 slaughter-houses do not remain small work-shops, but immense 
 manufactories of preserved meats. This is the primary reason 
 for those large packing-houses, where thousands of animals are 
 swallowed up each day. 
 
 It is clear that all situations are not equally good for these 
 vast emporiums. They ought to be at the entrance of the 
 fattening country, to receive the cattle, sheep and pigs with 
 the minimum of freight rates possible ; and, further, to be well 
 furnished with many and easy ways of communication with 
 the shipping ports whence the duly preserved meat is sent off 
 to Europe. Hence the meat-cities are shifted as the rearing 
 and fattening lands move Westwards with the development of 
 colonization. So this shifting is also towards the West. About 
 1850, when Mr. Taine wished to present to the Parisian public 
 an American type the salt-pork merchant" he placed the 
 residence of Mr. Thomas Graindorge in Cincinnati. At that 
 period it was at the head of that industry, and for a long time 
 it was known by the significant surname of " Porkopolis." 
 Chicago was hardly born then, but later it entered on the 
 scene, along with Louisville, St. Louis, Indianapolis and 
 Milwaukee, all of which it promptly surpassed. To-day its 
 rivals are Kansas City and Omaha ; to-morrow, probably, some 
 unknown Texan town will count among the great meat-cities. 
 
 On casting a glance over a map of the United States one 
 sees that Chicago, Omaha and Kansas City, the three most 
 important meat centres, are joined by a broken line, to the 
 west of which lie the meat-producing States. This line cuts 
 America into North and South, and separates the West from 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 59 
 
 the East the new land from the civilized land. It is true 
 that there exist other less known centres, but the dozen 
 States over which they are scattered occupy exactly the same 
 intermediary situation between East and West. 1 
 
 In these States, wherever the means of transit are numerous, 
 some packing-house is established; and where they reach their 
 greatest development, these packing-houses assume formidable 
 proportions. 
 
 We, therefore, find Chicago the greatest railroad centre and 
 the greatest packing-house centre at the same time. Fifty-one 
 tracks, belonging to thirty-two different companies, go out from 
 Chicago to radiate all over the surface of the States, from the 
 Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada,- 
 
 1 These twelve States are : Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, 
 Nebraska, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Kentucky and Tennessee. (See 
 Twenty-first Annual Report of the Hog-packing and Cattle Slaughtering of 
 Chicago.) 
 
 2 Here, after the "Travellers Ready Reference, Appleton s Guide," is the list 
 of these lines and companies. Only the name of the company is mentioned when 
 it owns but one track leaving Chicago : 
 
 Erie Railway Picturesque Route of America through Niagara Falls or Chautauqua Lake. 
 
 Chicago and Atlantic Railway. 
 New York Central and Hudson River Railroad. 
 Michigan Central. 
 West Shore Railroad. 
 Pennsylvania Railroad. 
 Fitchburg Railroad. 
 Grand Trunk Railway of Canada Main Line. 
 
 " Southern Division. 
 
 Alleghany Valley Railroad. 
 Baltimore and Ohio Main Line. 
 
 " Central Ohio and Lake Erie Division. 
 
 " Chicago Division 
 
 Jacksonville, Tampa and Key West Railway System. 
 Nashville, Chattanooga and Saint Louis Railway. 
 Chicago, Saint Louis and Pittsburg. 
 
 Cleveland, Cincinnati, Chicago and Saint Louis Railway. 
 Lake Shore and Michigan Southern Railway. 
 Chicago and Eastern Illinois Railroad. 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and Western Railway. 
 Chicago and Grand Trunk Railway. 
 Louisville, New Albany and Chicago Railway. 
 Dayton, Fort Wayne and Chicago Railroad. 
 Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific California Line. 
 
 Southwestern Division. 
 Illinois Central. 
 Chicago, Milwaukee and Saint Paul Railroad- Chicago Saint Paul and Minneapolis. 
 
 " Chic go, Council Bluffs and Kansas City. 
 
 " Chicago via Prairie du Chien or via Dubuque. 
 
60 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 while four and a half million pigs and over two and a half mil 
 lion cattle were slaughtered there in a single year (March, 
 1889, March, 1890). It is there where the most important 
 firms, Armour, Swift and Hammond, have their head establish 
 ments. 
 
 To the stranger arriving in Chicago for the first time, this 
 double character of the city is shown as much by the crowd of 
 chimneys that pour forth their black smoke, as by their num 
 berless iron roads that traverse every quarter ; and even in the 
 centre there are immense depots, formed by-large areas covered 
 with rails. They have built innumerable bridges for the circu 
 lation of foot-passengers and vehicles, and their ugly iron frame 
 work sticks out on every side. Near the Chicago River, the 
 movement of the trains, of the steamers and of the tramways 
 is not comparable with any other, except that in the lower part 
 of New York. To help trade, Americans must have their rail 
 roads in the heart of business quarters, and much prefer to spoil 
 the aspect of a great city to running the risk of losing a little 
 time in it. And what does it matter? Their cities are only 
 vast business premises in which they do not live. It is outside, 
 in the suburbs, that they build their elegant mansions. This 
 explains, for instance, how, right beside Twelfth street, in a 
 most central district, there are no buildings at all; but a rail- 
 
 Chicago, Milwaukee and Saint Paul Railroad Chicago, Kalamazoo and Saginaw Railway. 
 
 Chicago, Santa-F6and California. 
 The Wabash Railway Company Chicago to Saint Louis. 
 
 Boston, New York, Detroit, Chicago. 
 Chicago and Alton Railroad Chicago and Saint Louis, Short Line. 
 
 Chicago and Kansas City Line. 
 Wisconsin Central Railroad. 
 Green Bay, Winona and Saint Paul Railroad. 
 Texas and Pacific Railway. 
 
 Burlington Route Chicago and Peoria to Omaha and Council Bluffs. 
 " Chicago and Peoria to Denver and Cheyenne. 
 
 " Chicago and Peoria to Kansas City, Saint Joseph and Atchinson. 
 
 Chicago and Peoria to Denver, via Kansas City, Saint Joseph. 
 Chicago to Dubuque, Saint Paul and Minneapolis. 
 Chicago to Denison, Houston, Austin, Galveston and the South and 
 
 Southwest. 
 
 Chicago, Buihngton and Quincy Railroad. 
 Kansas City, Saint Joseph and Council Bluffs Railroad. 
 Chicago, Burlington and Kansas City. 
 Chicago Northwestern Railway Chicago and Des Moines Line. 
 Chicago and Milwaukee Line. 
 Houston and Texas Central Railway Chicago, Saint Paul, Kansas City Railway. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 6 1 
 
 road track runs along for a considerable distance and gives it a 
 dirty, miserable appearance. Such thing would not be endured 
 in Paris. The depots are built away from the heart of the city 
 (except St. Lazare, which owes its central position to having 
 been surrounded by the extending town), and the construction 
 of a metropolitan line meets such vigorous opposition. We 
 will not permit a sacrifice of elegance to quicken communica 
 tion, because Paris, above all, is an elegant city. Chicago has 
 no such pretensions, and is organized entirely from the point of 
 view of the development of its activity. Anything appears 
 justifiable there that can usefully contribute to this result. 
 
 Chicago was destined to become a great transport centre, 
 because of its geographical position, long before the days of 
 railroads. Situated at the extremity of the great hollow that 
 forms Lake Michigan, it was the most northerly point by which 
 a traveller could pass from New York to the Northwest ; so, 
 when this Northwest began to be peopled, Chicago was evolved 
 in due course. Further, Lake Michigan gives it a valuable 
 opening to the North, and the Mississippi was so close 
 on the other side, that by a canal, simple to construct, it was 
 easy to reach the Southern States by that grand waterway. 
 No other point could have become so excellent a centre for 
 the American railroad system as Chicago, but a special circum 
 stance helped to accelerate its marvellous progress, at the time 
 when America began to build its iron web in a serious manner. 
 In the middle of the War of Secession, St. Louis declared for 
 the South, and the growing Northwest, accustomed to commu 
 nicate with the East by the Missouri Valley (of which it is the 
 key) found itself cut off from the Atlantic Coast. Such a crit 
 ical situation could not be prolonged indefinitely, and it was 
 the interest of the East to put an end to it. Then began the 
 great building of railroads which were to make Chicago the 
 pivot of commercial life and the Capital of the West. All the 
 capital of the East combined its efforts to raise a powerful 
 rival, before which St. Louis soon waned ; so that it may be 
 said that by the end of the War the centre of America had 
 already been shifted. 
 
 At that time the resources of the Northwest began to be 
 known, and the Civil War, combined with the building of rail- 
 
62 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 roads and the rise of Chicago, helped to give it a good lift on 
 wards. St. Paul was only a little town, and Minneapolis did 
 not exist in 1860; to-day each has more than 200,000 inhabit 
 ants. Minnesota had a very sparse population ; Iowa and Wis 
 consin were hardly thought of. But each new settler, who 
 went to fix himself on unoccupied lands, gave the railroad an 
 additional source of traffic, and sent a new lot of beasts to be 
 slaughtered in the Chicago market. Thus, the two causes of 
 Chicago s prosperity the rise of the railroads and the in 
 crease of settling grew alongside of and mutually supported 
 each other. These two forces acted so powerfully that when 
 the disastrous fire of 1871 destroyed the town, it rose again 
 from its ashes more active and flourishing than ever. The 
 reason of its being was the same before as after the disaster, 
 because it was an external one. Chicago is the place where 
 the agricultural produce of the West is concentrated. 
 
 Wherever these two causes have existed simultaneously, 
 cities of the same sort have arisen. To-day, Kansas City is 
 the centre for the cattle and pigs of Texas, of Missouri, and of 
 Kansas; and the great Chicago houses have branches there. If 
 Kansas City is later in appearing on the scene than Chicago, 
 it is because the Civil War retarded the settling of Missouri 
 and of Kansas by hindering the building of the iron roads. 
 There was no railway at all in Kansas in 1870. If Kansas City 
 has not boomed at the same rate as Chicago, 1 it may be 
 explained partly because its geographical position is not so 
 exceptionally favorable ; partly because it has not experienced 
 the effects of temporary circumstances which furthered the 
 swarming of Chicago. The Civil War acted the part of good 
 fairy to it one of those god-mothers of the stories who places 
 in the infant s cradle a heap of precious gifts, while she played 
 the part of the wicked Fairy Carrabosse to Missouri and 
 Kansas. 
 
 Omaha, which has not yet reached the importance of Kansas 
 City, is another of those towns whose prosperity depends on 
 the meat trade. There, too, the great Chicago butchers have 
 built their slaughter-houses, and near the present centre of the 
 
 I Chicago has over a million inhabitants ; Kansas City only about 200,000. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 63 
 
 young city. Swift and Hammond kill, cut up and pack the dif 
 ferent kinds of cattle and pigs from Nebraska. In fact wher 
 ever a new maize-growing district is opened, a meat-city arises 
 beside it. Immense stock-yards are seen to rise near the 
 future packing-houses, and the cattle, pigs and sheep are 
 driven there on coming out of the freight train. The material 
 forming these stock-yards is of the simplest. Imagine an 
 immense area cut up into squares by strong wooden stakes, 
 joined together by thick planks. These fences are from six to 
 eight feet high and are coped with batten-laid flatways on 
 the top of the posts, forming an elevated path round the 
 enclosure. A man the stockman can run in every direction 
 on this plank, and strike at the beasts to make them leave the 
 yard or push them in there. In some yards a crib is placed 
 along the fences to hold the food for animals, which must wait 
 several days before they are slaughtered. The company own 
 ing these stock-yards charge a certain rate per head, which 
 covers the expenses of the business and usually yields a sub 
 stantial profit. 
 
 There is a bank in the middle of the stock-yards to facilitate 
 the considerable exchanging of money which goes on in the 
 cattle trade. The bankers have plenty to do in such towns. 
 From March, 1889, to March, 1890, the Chicago market 
 received 6,326,984 pigs, of 245, average weight, whose price 
 varied between the extremes of $3.35 and $5.10 per 100 
 pounds. Let us take $4.20 as the mean price, and that gives 
 $10.39 P er head, a total of $65,737,362.86. That is for pigs 
 alone ! The cattle and sheep, taken together, represent a 
 much larger sum. As information on this point, there is a 
 notice stuck up in the Chicago Chamber of Commerce, May 12, 
 1890: 
 
 Pi S s. 
 
 Estimated receipts for to-day 12,000 
 
 Official, yesterday 1 7,906 
 
 Shipments 5>39 8 
 
 Receipts for the week 126,918 
 
 Shipments 29,885 
 
 Receipts for corresponding week last year 146, 773 
 
 Shipments 38,253 
 
 Packing to date 849,000 
 
 Packing last year 678 ooo 
 
6 4 
 
 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Left over, about 2,000. 
 
 Quality, good. 
 
 Market, active, and prices firm; 2c. to 5c. higher. 
 
 Cattle. 
 
 Estimated receipts for to-day 2,400 
 
 Estimated receipts for yesterday 10, 500 
 
 Shipments 6,044 
 
 Market, active and steady. 
 
 
 
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 Day s Receipts 
 
 
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 Official Yesterday . 
 
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 At Kansas City there has been a money movement of 
 55,000,000 on the animals in the stock-yards since 1885. 
 From such figures one can judge the importance of the trans 
 actions which a centralization of the butcher business brings to 
 one special point. 
 
 Let us glance at the establishment of Mr. Armour, and see 
 to what sort of industry it gives rise. 
 
 II. IN THE PACKING-HOUSES. 
 
 The moment one sees the exterior aspect of these immense 
 buildings of wood and brick, blackened by smoke from the 
 engines, and surrounded by wooden pens, lines of rails and 
 miry roads, it produces an effect by no means agreeable to the 
 eye ; at the same time the sense of smell is disagreeably 
 affected by an odor combining the bench, the slaughter-house 
 and the kitchen, in the strangest and most odious fashion, so 
 that one experiences a kind of relief on entering a large room, 
 where the clerks of the establishment are at work. There, 
 nothing unusual is to be seen ; some young people, in shirt- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 65 
 
 sleeves and with hats on, are writing at their desks, or, perched 
 on high stools, are keeping accounts in great ledgers half- 
 bound in copper. This ordinary spectacle somewhat reassures 
 the timid visitor and encourages him to accept the ticket 
 which allows him to go round the packing-houses in the com 
 pany of a guide. The man to whom it was my bad luck to 
 fall was not an accomplished cicerone ; to every question he 
 had but one* answer, that he had been only one week at 
 Armour s, and knew nothing about it. Happily, to under 
 stand the organization of a packing-house, one needs only to 
 see it, for the machinery could not be simpler. I ought to 
 say that this simplicity greatly surprised me at first. I had 
 expected to see machinery of surprising ingenuity, almost 
 superseding hand-work, which would kill, cut up, and prepare 
 an animal without the direct intervention of any workman. 
 Insteacl of that, at every step I encountered men armed with 
 large knives, hatchets, saws and hammers ; cutting, sawing and 
 dealing heavy blows. Evidently there was no such thing as 
 the legendary machine into which you put a pig at one end 
 and draw forth black puddings and sausages at the other. 
 
 My guide led me first to the hog-department, which is the 
 most wonderful, because there is great variety in the prepara 
 tion of the various parts, according to the use to be made of 
 each. But let us proceed in order ; this will be so much the 
 easier as the successive phases of the operation present them 
 selves to the visitor in a series of pictures. Each room is de 
 voted to a special kind of work, and the animal passes from 
 one to the other, so that in following its course one learns 
 exactly all the transformations it undergoes. 
 
 The hogs are brought from the stock-yards into a vast shed, 
 situated under the factory; this is the waiting-room. They do 
 not wait here long, for every minute four or five of them are 
 hooked by the hind leg to an iron chain which lifts them up 
 and causes them to disappear through the ceiling. The opera 
 tions now begin, and we mount to the floor above to witness 
 them. Here one sees the animal emerge by a trap and ascend 
 to a height of about two yards, still attached to the pulley by 
 the leg. At the outset the animal is thus placed so high that 
 its weight shall cause it to accomplish the journey to which it 
 
66 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 is afterwards destined. In reality it reaches a long rod, fixed 
 to the joists and slightly inclined ; upon this the hook by 
 which it is suspended slides smoothly. This rod runs through 
 out the entire length of the room and communicates with sev 
 eral others in the neighboring rooms. It is a kind of small 
 Decauville aerial railway, with numerous branch lines leading 
 to the various sorting rooms for cooking, smoking, etc.; but 
 at the point where we now are, the line is still single, because 
 all the hogs must first submit to a certain number of preliminary 
 operations, which are always the same, whatever may be the 
 ultimate use made of the animal. Before becoming chitterlings 
 or ham, the hog must be bled, got rid of its bristles, etc. It is 
 this that we are going to see. 
 
 The iron rod on which the hog accomplishes his last journey 
 is not only inclined, but it is also bent at certain places in such 
 a way as to admit of a change of direction that causes a short 
 stoppage in the onward movement. Each of these stoppages, 
 corresponding to bends in the iron-bar, marks a station. Thus, 
 at the first turn, a workman plunges his cutlas into the victim s 
 neck. The blood rushes out and flows into a trough ten yards 
 in length, which runs underneath the iron-rod and receives all 
 the blood the animal loses in the transit. Ten yards further 
 on, the animal strikes against a kind of door. Thus ends the 
 first act. 
 
 Whilst awaiting their entrance on the scene of the second 
 act, the hogs form in groups against this door ; some, patiently 
 resigned to their fate, lose the last drops of blood without a 
 movement; others, making a supreme effort, avenge themselves 
 for the cruelty of man on their companions in suffering. I 
 can still see an unfortunate black and white pig, which, whilst 
 uttering frightful cries, found means to bite its neighbor sav 
 agely, thus employing all its remaining energy to satiate its 
 rage. 
 
 The second act might be called the act of bath and sham 
 poo. Each time the door opens to let one of the victims 
 through, the beast slides along the iron rod for a moment; 
 then reaching a gap, it falls into a large bath of boiling water. 
 A round dozen of pigs are in the water at once, and any re 
 maining spark of life is soon extinguished. The moist heat 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 67 
 
 of the water softens and loosens the bristles, and prepares them 
 for the scraping, which is the next operation. In itself, all 
 this seems as strange as it is repulsive. The unlucky beasts, 
 pushed by negroes with long poles to the bottom of the vat 
 to prevent their floating on the surface, the involuntary com 
 parison with the bathing customs of watering-places, the 
 tawny-colored water, and the warm pungent smell rising up, 
 form an impression ludicrous and brutal, at the same time 
 making one wish to laugh and go away. Nevertheless, one 
 remains to see the end of all the operations. After a few 
 minutes immersion, the hog is withdrawn. For this purpose 
 an ingenious apparatus is used, resembling the agricultural 
 horse-rake. It is composed of a series of curved iron-rods, 
 forming a concave grating rotating on a horizontal axis. In 
 its normal position the apparatus plunges to the bottom of 
 the water ; and to make it act, one of the attendant negroes 
 with his pole pushes the hog in such a way that it rests on the 
 concave part ; then another unfastens a ring, and the grating, 
 making a half revolution, sets the animal on a table pierced 
 with holes. It is at once delivered to a machine, which brushes 
 it, combs it and vigorously scrapes it. This ends the second 
 act. 
 
 The cutting up comes next. A man cuts off the head with 
 one blow of a hatchet. Then the hog, attached by the tendons 
 of the legs to a horizontal iron-rod furnished with a hook, is 
 suspended anew from the long bar on which it is to finish its 
 journey. From this moment each of its different parts take a 
 different direction. The head has already been separated from 
 the body; the tongue and ears are removed, while the rippers 
 cleave the animal with one stroke and remove all the internal 
 parts, which they place in long boxes, above which watering 
 tubes, pierced like skimmers, play unceasingly. The room in 
 which this washing takes place seems one of the most repug 
 nant. Puddles of mingled blood and water form in the uneven 
 parts of the floor; one can hardly find a dry spot on which to 
 set foot, and on all sides repulsive objects meet the eye. To 
 see well, one should occasionally mount a ladder. Each step is 
 soiled in some way, the one red with blood, the other covered 
 with the bristles that the dirty hand of a workman has left 
 
68 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 there in climbing. One must be provided with cheap gloves 
 for a visit to such establishments, and throw them away on 
 getting out again. As compensation for the horrors that must 
 be witnessed, one can admire the skill of the workmen who cut 
 up the quarters, separate the bacon, trim the hams, each one 
 always performing the same limited operation. It is division 
 of labor pushed to the extreme. 
 
 I have a vivid recollection of a tall, vigorous and brutal 
 negro, armed with an enormous hatchet, who passed his whole 
 day in cutting hams from the quarters presented to him. 
 Three movements were enough, and the accuracy of his aim 
 was marvellous. He was an artist in his own line. Elsewhere 
 in the office, I was told that nearly all the workmen are skilful 
 specialists ; yet what a difference between them and the mean 
 est butcher s boy with us. These would, perhaps, be less 
 rapid in the execution of this or that detail, but they know all 
 the different phases of the operation of which the Armour work 
 man has followed but one. They can tell of the weight of an 
 animal at first sight, and are well acquainted with all the nice 
 ties of the trade ; they not only slaughter the animals, but 
 they also know how to buy them. 
 
 The men we see here are confined to one minute specialty ; 
 they are mechanical workmen. Yesterday, moreover, perhaps 
 they worked in a mine, to-morrow they will be farmers or mer 
 chants. All employments are temporary in the United States. 
 They are looked upon as a series of stepping-stones to fortune, 
 and one remains momentarily poised on one step till he can 
 reach the one beyond. From this point of view the division of 
 labor renders an immense service to the Americans. It enables 
 them to find employment in different branches of trade with 
 out serving a long apprenticeship, and one can rapidly acquire 
 the skill of the negro I admired cutting a thousand hams a 
 day. Much more easily can one load an iron wheelbarrow 
 with the remains of the flesh, and empty it into a large boiler 
 flush with the floor, as I saw one of the less vigorous and less 
 skilful workmen doing. 
 
 We visit in succession the vats in which the lard is brought 
 to a liquid state, those where it cools, the rooms where it is 
 packed in barrels, the casks, of bacons, the sheds where the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 69 
 
 ham is smoked or cured with sugar, the freezing cellars, 
 where fresh meat and reserves of bacon are stored ; then we 
 proceed to the cattle department. 
 
 Things go on much in the same way here, except that the 
 flesh of the ox is utilized in a more uniform manner than that 
 of the hog. At the outset one notices a great mass of oxen 
 under a dark shed. Now and then a man opens a door and 
 pushes through five or six, which struggle together in a boarded 
 passage having a considerable slope. The ascent seems diffi 
 cult to them, and the stockman, from the top of the passage- 
 wall, pushes forward the laziest with heavy kicks ; he sometimes 
 also uses a long leather whip to drive on those animals whom 
 the odor of blood inspires with instinctive horror; and in 
 reality the lobby is the vestibule of the scaffold. At its ex 
 tremity there is a long, narrow room, throughout the length of 
 which runs a raised wooden platform. A workman, armed 
 with a heavy mallet, walks up and down this platform, 
 stopping only opposite each ox, to fell it with a smart blow 
 between the two horns. Immediately afterwards, a large chain 
 of iron, furnished with two hooks, seizes the felled animal by 
 the hind legs and lifts it to the upper floor, where it is decapi 
 tated. It afterwards passes through different rooms to be 
 skinned, cut up, smoked, salted, packed in tins, etc. I spare 
 my readers the description of these diverse operations, some 
 what similar to those employed in the case of the hog. There 
 is only one remark to add that owing to the considerable 
 weight of the ox, the employment of machinery, driven by 
 some motor, for the passage from one room to another, and for 
 easy details, such as the division into quarters, which is accom 
 plished by means of a circular-saw, pays much better than for 
 hogs. On the contrary, the machinery is hardly useful for 
 sheep. Although I saw several of them slaughtered in the 
 neighborhood of the cattle department, this latter is a much 
 less important branch of the industry of the packing-houses. 
 Moreover, the flesh of the sheep lends itself less easily to the 
 customary methods of preserving the flesh of the hog and 
 the ox. 
 
 The beef that leaves the packing-houses of Chicago is not 
 all destined to be preserved ; the greater part of it is used as 
 
;o AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 dressed-beef. Thus, of 2,206,185 oxen slaughtered at Chi 
 cago from March, 1889, till March, 1890, 1,800,000 have been 
 absorbed in the trade of dressed beef. I must, therefore, say 
 a word about this important specialty. As the name indi 
 cates, dressed beef is simply beef cut into quarters, ready to 
 be retailed to customers. Thus prepared by the packing 
 houses, it is placed in the refrigerators (railway wagons), which 
 distribute it over the whole of the United States, and furnish 
 an enormous number of markets with material for retail. On 
 whatever line one travels, long rows of these cars are to be 
 seen, and each little Western town receives the number pro 
 portionate to its consumption. In this way, it is not neces 
 sary to be a butcher by profession in order to run a meat 
 store, it is sufficient to go to the railway station, select the 
 necessary quarters of beef, and cut them up afterwards. Di 
 vision of labor thus reigns, not only inside, but also outside 
 the packing-houses. It leaves the technical part of the work 
 in the hands of the great packers of Chicago, Kansas City 
 and Omaha, and confides to the first comer the purely com 
 mercial part, of which the butcher s stall is the theatre. One 
 sells meat in the United States as one sells cheese in France, 
 without any apprenticeship. I lay stress upon this point, be 
 cause it is a characteristic Americen trait ; everybody there is 
 equal to anything, but let it be well understood, everything is 
 coarsely done without care, without art. A man is not 
 proud of his handicraft and jealous of his professional reputa 
 tion, but he is proud of his being able to do any kind of work, 
 no matter what, and of knowing how to make money enough 
 under any circumstances. 
 
 Perhaps this is the reason that has prevented American 
 dressed-beef from invading the European market. It is 
 known there, and Chicago statistics triumphantly register 
 some exports to England, Germany, and France ; but the 
 great market for dressed-beef is always to be found in the 
 local consumption of the States. Our careful housewives, 
 accustomed to meat well cut and trimmed, cannot view with 
 out repugnance these great quarters of beef preserved in ice 
 and cut somewhat at random by any hand. The butchers, 
 on their side, are naturally opposed to the introduction of 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 71 
 
 dead meat, which would enter into competition with their 
 trade. Otherwise, it would be as easy for dressed-beef to be 
 brought across the Atlantic in steamers, like the "Frigori- 
 fique," as to be sent five or six days by rail in refrigerator-cars. 
 To make amends, tinned meat, and all the different products 
 of the pig, are in demand abroad. France, Germany, Eng 
 land, Canada and the Antilles import a considerable quantity 
 of them every year. The French Government has long been 
 one of Armour s wholesale customers for military provisions. 
 England, in particular, receives many hams, quarters of pork 
 and bacon ; Sweden and Norway chiefly the last article. 
 
 To satisfy the different tastes of customers the packers have 
 been obliged to prepare the flesh of the pig in many different 
 ways ; and in the statistical reports I have counted thirty-one 
 principal varieties. Beef, on the contrary, has only four or five. 
 
 The industries connected with a packing-house are numerous. 
 Outside are enormous warehouses in which the products, ready 
 for export, are stored ; There is a cooperage for the manufac 
 ture of barrels, there is a factory for the production of tin-cans, 
 and yet another is the meat-market, where eating-house keep 
 ers of the town in which the packing-house is situated buy 
 their provisions directly, without the intervention of the middle 
 man. 
 
 On leaving these wonderful factories and returning to the 
 pure air and the sunshine, one experiences unspeakable joy ; 
 but in the evening, when the colored waiter of the hotel brings 
 your beefsteak, horrible recollections arise, upon which it would 
 be well not to dwell, if you wish to retain your appetite. Still, 
 no one who wishes to make himself acquainted with American 
 ways of doing things can regret his visit to these establish 
 ments. This industry is very American in its nature, its 
 methods and its results. It is within the capacity of almost 
 any workman ; further, it creates one of the chief riches of the 
 States, and occupies a first rank among the sources of their 
 material prosperity. Not only does it enrich the packers, of 
 whom several Armour among them possess colossal fortunes ; 
 but it utilizes American agricultural products for the markets 
 of the whole world ; it promotes colonization and the ever- 
 increasing development of the lands of the Union. 
 
72 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 III. THE^BOOM^OF A MEAT-TOWN. 
 
 The packing-houses give rise to another effect. In concen 
 trating the meat trade in a few centres, they give rise to con 
 siderable towns, the special features of which it is now 
 interesting to study. If you walk on a sunny day along 
 Michigan avenue, in Chicago, when thronged with elegant 
 equipages ; or, if in Kansas City, you pass through Troost 
 avenue, lined with spacious and substantial mansions, you 
 must admit, if you reflect at all, that the reason of the exist 
 ence of this luxury is to be found, after all, in the dirty, 
 smoky packing-houses around which these towns have sprung 
 up. Here, then, is the place to say a few words on the sub 
 ject. 
 
 To get as good an idea as possible of the boom of one of 
 these towns, transport yourself back fifty years in thought. 
 The contrast is startling. One day, at the house of a common 
 friend in Chicago, I had the good fortune to meet an old 
 American who had been settled there for the last fifty-five 
 years. He had come out to trade in furs, and he told tales of 
 his connection with the Indians of Illinois, of the wolf-hunts 
 the merchants joined in to get rid of these animals, of the fights 
 they sometimes had when, owing to the rum either flowing 
 too freely or being too firmly refused, they brought upon 
 themselves the drunkenness or the anger of their savage allies. 
 We chatted or rather I listened for a long time, taking a 
 lively pleasure in this interesting conversation ; and, when I 
 rose to take leave of him, it was with a kind of surprise that I 
 again found myself in the office of the City Comptroller of 
 Chicago, in the midst of an immense and sumptuous City Hall. 
 Yet, it was not an old story that I had heard, and I found my 
 self on the very spot where it had happened. The ground 
 occupied by the immense business buildings that line Lassalle 
 street was covered with grass fifty years ago. Dearborn 
 street owes its name to Fort Dearborn, built by the Federal 
 Government to protect the American Fur Company, and was 
 destroyed only in 1856. Chicago numbered only fifteen families 
 in 1830; to-day she possesses a million inhabitants, and it has 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 73 
 
 been possible for one man to witness this extraordinary trans 
 formation. 
 
 This is wonderful, and yet the story of Chicago is the story 
 of all the large towns of the West. The geographical situa 
 tion which has made them railroad centres and centres of the 
 cattle trade, had formerly made them centres for steamers 
 or caravans, and for the fur trade. About 1840, Chonteau, a 
 Frenchman, son of the founder of Saint Louis, set up a new 
 fur factory on the Missouri ; and the Roman Catholic Bishop of 
 Kansas City, at that time a missionary, remembers when his 
 metropolis was composed of a fort, a warehouse, and a few 
 cabins. Omaha and Council Bluffs, situated on opposite banks 
 of the Missouri, not far from its confluence with the Platte, 
 also owe their origin to the fur trade. All these marts would 
 have disappeared to-day had their prosperity been founded 
 solely on this ephemeral trade. The Indians, once supplied 
 with firearms by the traders, quickly exhausted the natural re 
 sources they exploited ; but behind these traders came colonists 
 who occupied the old hunting-grounds, brought cattle, raised 
 stock, and in place of the fur industry which had disappeared 
 with the large game, they created a new, inexhaustible and 
 growing source of wealth. 
 
 Chicago, which is at the head of the provision towns, is also 
 the most active, the boldest, the most American, of the cities 
 of the Union. "These Chicago people," said a Frenchman to 
 me one day, who, from a long sojourn in the States, was well 
 able to form a sound opinion, "are enterprising in a manner at 
 once foolish and admirable. Nothing discourages them, nothing 
 astonishes them. The day after the terrible fire which destroyed 
 their town, in 1871, they began to rebuild it without the least 
 hesitation, building at one end whilst the other was still burn 
 ing." It is here, indeed, that the American "go ahead," the 
 idea of going always forward without useless regrets and re 
 criminations, with an eye to the future, fearless and calm it is 
 here that it attains its maximum intensity. Whatever be the 
 prejudices of education and training, one cannot but admire 
 such superb confidence. This confidence has a double origin, 
 the personal energy of the Americans and their accustomedness 
 to success. This is why it is strongest where success has been 
 
74 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 particularly brilliant ; stronger in the meat-towns of the Western 
 than in the Eastern centres, which are already old ; strongest 
 of all in Chicago. 
 
 I have no intention of presenting my readers with a complete 
 history of Chicago ; I shall merely try to give them an idea of 
 the importance and rapidity of its boom by means of a few facts. 
 And first, it will be remembered that, in March, 1871, Chicago 
 was completely destroyed by a terrible fire; only one house, 
 which is still pointed out, escaped the flames. It has lately 
 been acquired by a richly-endowed public library, that will 
 make short work of it ; and every stranger makes a pilgrimage 
 to it, as the last vestige of the old town. The extent of the dis 
 aster is explained by the unheard-of rapidity with which the fire 
 spread. It was towards 9 o clock in the evening that the first 
 glimmer of fire appeared to the north of the town. At that 
 time the service of firemen had not attained the perfection to 
 which it has since been carried ; however, one was accustomed 
 to seeing fire break out in the wooden-houses, of which Chicago 
 was almost entirely composed, without being followed by a 
 general disaster; so except those in the immediate neighbor 
 hood, none disturbed himself much. An eye-witness, living in 
 a distant quarter of the town, told me he had noticed the flames 
 to the North, and went to bed without misgiving. Towards 
 midnight a policeman knocked to warn him that the fire was 
 advancing with frightful rapidity ; in fact, a violent wind, such 
 as is met with in America only, drove the fire towards the 
 centre of the town, giving rise to the fear of a universal con 
 flagration. But it was still at least a mile off, and Mr. W. took 
 advantage of the delay which this distance seemed to promise 
 him, to carry aid to the family of a friend. When he returned 
 home, an hour later, he found his house in flames; in twenty- 
 four hours the whole town was burning. 
 
 Deaths innumerable and ruin complete were the result of 
 this gigantic disaster. At that time Chicago numbered about 
 360,000 souls, and it needed all the generosity of the Americans 
 to keep so many families from dying of cold and hunger, home 
 less as they were, and, for the time being, deprived of every 
 means of subsistence. Trains, loaded entirely with provisions 
 and clothing, arrived from all sides; Chicago was nothing else 
 but a great board of charity. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 75 
 
 It was in Drexel avenue, in a lovely public garden sur 
 rounded by beautiful dwellings, that an old citizen of the town 
 gave me these sad details. I thought to myself that, about 
 the same time, in May, 1871, Paris also had seen some memor 
 able fires, of which many traces still exist ; I recalled the 
 lamentable ruins of the " Cour des Comptes " and the gravelled 
 walks and lawns which replace the Tuileries. Here, there is 
 nothing of this kind. Instead of a town built of wood and 
 brick, with a population of 360,000, there is another town, bet 
 ter built and numbering a million inhabitants. Progress, 
 momentarily arrested, thereafter proceeded with fresh ardor, 
 and the plots which I saw to right and left, though far 
 from the centre of the town, were worth $20.00 per square 
 yard. The greater number were occupied by private houses of 
 elegant exterior, and the adjacent avenues on the shore of 
 Lake Michigan are similarly lined, with a series of private 
 dwellings, sheltered with fine trees and surrounded by a small 
 lawn that isolates each from its neighbors. Nothing could less 
 resemble our Parisian barracks ; here, each one, not only in the 
 leisured-class, but also in the working-class, has his own home. 
 Those who, by force of peculiar circumstances, cannot establish 
 themselves under such conditions, make every effort to do so, 
 and they consider it of primary importance to have an inde 
 pendent home. To live in one s own mansion is neither an 
 unheard of luxury nor a sign of large fortune. In Greenwood 
 avenue I saw many charming residences valued at $15,000 to 
 $20,000 which represent rentals of from 4,000 to 5,000 francs 
 in Paris ; and if we take into account the differences in the 
 value of money in Chicago and in Paris, this sum will be 
 reduced at least by half. I do not exaggerate in affirming that 
 these houses are occupied by people having in Chicago a posi 
 tion corresponding to that of Parisian tenants paying a rent of 
 2,000 francs. 
 
 The workmen and inferior clerks find less costly dwellings in 
 the more modest suburbs, where the price of plots falls to 
 $1.00 per square yard. Here, again, the speculators in plots 
 have realized handsome profits. At the outset all the environs 
 of Chicago were assigned by the Government at $1.25 per 
 acre, and even at $1.00 per square yard; hence one can say 
 
76 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 that the business pays. Therefore, the trade of the real estate 
 man in Chicago has developed on a large scale. Enormous 
 fortunes have been made, lost and remade in real estate, and 
 the enlargement of the town still continues. 
 
 It can be easily understood, how the American custom of 
 living in separate houses causes the towns to assume gigantic 
 proportions and thus widens the sphere of speculation. At 
 three or four miles from the centre of Chicago it is still the 
 city. 
 
 However, it is in the business quarters that the greatest 
 strokes are made, because the greater value of the land allows 
 of greater variations and larger gains. The large publishing 
 firm of Rand, McNally & Co. reconstructed their premises in 
 1890, on lands which they had purchased for 400 per foot of 
 frontage, and before commencing building operations they 
 could have resold them at double the price. This frontage- 
 measure, which will perhaps at first surprise my readers, is 
 always used in the West in buying and selling town lands. It 
 is only applied to the frontage side ; the lots are generally 
 divided into lengths of 25 feet by 120 to 150 feet in depth. 
 A foot of frontage, then, represents a right angle of 100 to 150 
 feet on one side and I foot on the other. Thus, in supposing 
 that the land acquired by Rand, McNally & Co. has the max 
 imum depth of 150 feet, and each foot of frontage costs 
 $2,000, it would make the price of each square yard come to 
 $148. Some sales bring a much higher price ; and I have heard 
 of ground which was as high as $10,000 per foot of frontage, 
 or $769 per square yard. I do not think that the notaries of 
 Paris register such high prices. 
 
 Here I must notice that in America many towns enclose 
 lands of such value. We do not propose, at present, to con 
 sider the commercial or industrial centres of the East, such as 
 New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, etc. But with 
 out quitting the cities of the West, which have risen with the 
 cattle-trade, we will take up some facts similar to those which 
 Chicago has already furnished us. 
 
 Kansas City, more particularly, has boomed for the last 
 thirty years in a very remarkable manner. In 1860 it num 
 bered 8,000 inhabitants ; to-day it has more than 200,000 ; 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 77 
 
 and business is so important there that on Delaware street, in 
 the centre of the town, a foot of frontage, with a depth of 
 only 90 feet, sells at $2,500. 
 
 It will be easy to understand the ardor of the speculation in 
 lands by the following facts : The largest dry-goods store in 
 Kansas City, finding itself short of room in the premises which 
 it occupied, wished to acquire another piece of ground for an 
 extension ; and in Walnut street, between Tenth and Elev 
 enth streets, a sufficiently large space for this project was 
 found. The neighboring proprietors, considering that the con 
 struction of a shop with plenty of custom would give a large 
 surplus-value to their lots, hastened to form a syndicate and 
 offered to the heads of the house a sum of $100,000 if they 
 would decide in favor of this situation. This help was not 
 to be despised, and the bargain was struck. What happened 
 in Kansas City is that which nearly always happens when an 
 American town begins to boom. 
 
 Speculators are not content to work the actual extreme value 
 which the development of business gives to the town-lots ; they 
 discount the future with too much rapidity and bring on an in 
 flation an artificial expansion fertile in surprises. All at once 
 they find that they have gone too fast, and a sudden stop 
 comes, which makes prices fall a third or a half. Then three 
 or four years of ordinary progress are required for recovery, 
 and all the real-estate men who cannot wait for this return of 
 former prices, put on very wry faces. According to them com 
 merce is on the wane; they see everything darkly, and sigh over 
 their own misfortune as if it were general. Meanwhile, during 
 these times, the packing-houses increase their production, the 
 stock-yards are never empty, and the town continues to ad 
 vance. Only a few spectators are ruined for having wished to 
 dance quicker than the piper played. 
 
 Thus, those who had acquired lands in certain suburbs about 
 1886, in the hope of a ready sale at a large profit, found them 
 selves very much disappointed. I heard bitter complaints 
 from a saloonkeeper who had refused $5,000 an acre for a little 
 property situated at four or five miles from the centre of the 
 town. To-day he can only get $1,560, and regrets having been 
 too ambitious formerly. In the centre of the town the fall is 
 
78 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 less, but certain lots which were worth $700 per foot of front 
 age, are now not worth more than 400. On the other hand, 
 certain lots have gone up steadily, in spite of the general fall, 
 on account of a particularly favorable situation. In the neigh 
 borhood of Troost avenue, at the corner of Lydia avenue and 
 Twenty-second street, a piece of land bought at $25 per foot of 
 frontage four years ago would be worth to-day $400 to $500. 
 Still there are few sales being made. 
 
 In the best days of the boom they would have considered 
 such profits far too small. Folks who were fortunate grew rich 
 in a few months, and the victims of the actual situation do not 
 fail to tell you how such and such persons have gained a fortune 
 by pure speculation. I was shown some very pretty houses on 
 Troost avenue, occupied by these fortunate speculators. So- 
 and-so, for example, came to Kansas with a capital of $10,000, 
 and has gained millions. He bought on option, that is to say 
 that when a lot seemed to have a future,*he obtained a written 
 promise from the proprietor to sell it at a certain price. He 
 then sought a purchaser at a higher figure, and pocketed the 
 difference. Sometimes in two or three days he realized a profit 
 of 200 to 300 per cent, in this way. 
 
 It is easy to understand these enormous profits and the pro 
 digious rise in land when you look at the luxurious banks, the 
 enormous hotels, the ten-storied business buildings, which have 
 grown up there. 
 
 All this has been produced by the cattle-trade and the rise in 
 the value of land which has resulted from it. The banks exist 
 principally by mortgages. A ranchman has not always the 
 necessary money to buy lean cattle, which he intends to fatten. 
 He goes to the bank and borrows on his land. In this very 
 enterprising society, where the fact is of daily occurrence, only 
 the great packers and railroad kings work with their own capi 
 tal. So the banks are numerous and rich. In order to exhibit 
 these riches, they display them in sumptuous buildings, where 
 bad taste struggles with profusion of ornament. You go up 
 marble staircases with golden-bronze balustrades; the ceilings 
 and walls decorated with countless gildings; the elevators, the 
 screens, everything is gilded and everything looks hideous. 
 However, it is not a question of art, but of advertising. The 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 79 
 
 imagination of the customer must be impressed by this barbaric 
 splendor. 
 
 This reminds me of the diamond rings worn by certain den 
 tists, and the enormous lapis lazuli signet rings with which the 
 butchers dazzle the eyes of the country men "at fairs. The same 
 luxury and the same absence of taste is seen in the hotels. 
 The Midland Hotel, in Kansas City, cost two and a half mil 
 lion dollars to build and furnish. I do not know the cost of 
 the Auditorium Hotel at Chicago, but it is an immense nine- 
 storied building, glittering with gold, with choice marble and 
 electric-light. For comfort there is nothing left to be desired. 
 Each room has a dressing-room and bath-room perfectly ar 
 ranged. The dining-room, on the ninth floor, is reached in 
 twenty-two seconds by means of a perfect elevator ; but the eye 
 is annoyed by the excess of decoration, the strangeness and the 
 lack of repose of the architectural features, the barbarous aspect 
 of this piling up of expensive materials, producing a harsh, dis 
 cordant effect. It seems to me that Americans know much 
 better how to make money than how to spend it. This will be 
 shown on many occasions. 
 
 As yet we have studied only one way of money-making. 
 Breeding, fattening and killing cattle is an important source of 
 wealth in the States, but it is far from being the only one. A 
 large quantity of grain is grown in the West, and American 
 wheat has raised the bile of French farmers far more than 
 American meat. So, we must leave the towns where the 
 cattle are collected, to return to the farms and pay a visit to 
 the New World settler at home. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CULTIVATION ON A LARGE SCALE. EXTENSIVE FARMS. 
 
 In France we usually have a particular conception of Ameri 
 can farming, and readily think of it as gigantic in every 
 detail, cultivating immense areas with a legion of steam- 
 ploughs. This we consider to be the cause of our defeat in 
 the economic struggle. This is the text of many an address at 
 agricultural meetings, and the same conception appears in the 
 publications of the great agricultural societies, and even in the 
 statements of well-known public men who have crossed the 
 Atlantic and lived in the States. By way of example let me 
 quote from an article in the Revue des Deux Mondes of July I, 
 1890, wherein Count Keratry gives the great wheat and 
 bonanza farms a preponderating influence in America. If you 
 arrive in the States possessed with this idea and question a 
 citizen of New York or Philadelphia, he is careful not to unde 
 ceive you, thinking it would be a disgrace to his country to 
 contain anything ordinary. The Yankee boasting is well- 
 known ; certain epithets, such as, " astonishing success," " pro 
 digious homes," " colossal enterprises," are constantly heard. 
 They have adopted special expressions to characterize 
 immensity, having exhausted the English vocabulary by their 
 habit of exaggerating everything. In the term, " A mammoth 
 hotel," they have gone back to an extinct species to find a 
 point of comparison. A site is not picturesque, it is " the most 
 beautiful in the world." A train is not merely well-appointed, 
 but is " the best in the world." At the office of the rival rail 
 road over the way, you will certainly be offered tickets for 
 "the handsomest train in the world ;" and the clerk does not 
 even smile in going through his advertisement. A man who 
 succeeds well in business is " a splendid man ; " a good orator 
 is " a blizzard of eloquence." These being the usual habits of 
 
82 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 expression, what sort of answer is to be expected from the 
 Yankee whom you question as to the extent of farms out 
 West ? He appears surprised and utters some big words. 
 The farms are not only extensive, they are " wonderfully 
 extensive." l 
 
 You could as well ask from a citizen of Marseilles if his 
 house of business is important ! They even use to tell, half 
 seriously, half in jest, that on certain Western farms, the far 
 mer who began to trace a furrow with his plough, took care to 
 embrace his wife before starting, and to give her his sugges 
 tions on the subject of the education of their children, as so 
 much time must elapse before his return to his starting-point. 
 
 When I undertook to visit the agricultural States of the 
 Union I was most anxious to see these immense cultivated 
 tracts the terror of the European agriculturist and the pride 
 of the Yankee. Wherever I passed I took care to inquire as to 
 their existence, and the reader will appreciate the place which 
 they hold in American agriculture in perusing the recital of the 
 search which I was obliged to undertake in order to discover 
 the few farms of abnormal extent which actually exist in the 
 territory of the Union. 
 
 I. THE FARM FOR ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 I had but little hope from the East, invaded as it is by 
 manufactures; and, besides, every one sent me on at least as 
 far as the Valley of the Mississippi. It was there that the as 
 tonishing spectacle of the "wheat and bonanza farms" was to 
 present itself to my sight. In Ohio and Missouri I hazarded 
 a few questions, but without success. Ohio and Missouri, I 
 was told, might pass for Western lands in the time of M. de 
 Tocqueville, but to-day the West is no longer there. It was 
 necessary to cross the Mississippi to find the new countries. 
 The reflection was just, and I patiently awaited my arrival on 
 the other shore to continue my investigations on the subject 
 of big farms, the object of my curiosity. 
 
 i The Americans never use the adverb in expressions of this sort ; for instance, 
 they say " awful good," " awful pretty." This is not English, it is a dialect; but 
 it is so printed and so spoken everywhere in the States. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 83 
 
 Arrived in Kansas, I thought it was time to open my eyes. 
 I saw some great ranches, and also some tolerably vast proper 
 ties, divided into separate farms, and an immense quantity of 
 small domains, varying from 150 to 500 acres. This was, by 
 far, the most usual circumstance. In observing the cultivation 
 of Kansas, I easily understood the reason of this fact. Kansas 
 is not an exclusive soil, like Dakota, which hardly produces 
 anything but wheat. Here wheat, maize, oats, barley, millet, 
 and even the vine, live side by side. 
 
 This variety in the culture is very favorable to the restricted 
 cultivation, which can easily be surveyed by the eye of the owner. 
 It becomes an inconvenience on the large farms, conducted, one 
 might say, on administrative principles. Maize, for example, 
 must be consumed where it grows, to give a good profit. The 
 Kansas farmers are then obliged to have a cattle-fattening 
 ranch, when they do not find an immediate sale for their maize. 
 This is certainly advantageous for those who live on their 
 domain and direct it personally; it would be a great complica 
 tion for a capitalist residing at a distance and obliged to have 
 a double set of laborers and cowboys. Finally, everyone told 
 me that I should find elsewhere what I sought vainly here, and 
 I resigned myself to see the agriculture of Kansas, such as it is 
 and not as I had imagined it to be. In Oklahoma, where I 
 went down afterwards, there are only settlements of 1 60 acres. 
 I went up again to Colorado and Nebraska, thinking to attain 
 my object, but met with a fresh deception. Great ranches 
 were tolerably numerous, but the farms were of about the same 
 extent as those in Kansas. Again the same in Iowa. 
 
 Dakota, the classical corn-land, the American Beauce, re 
 mained, and I reckoned upon seeing there the great steam 
 cultivation of which I had so often heard. Accordingly, as 
 soon as I arrived at Aberdeen, I renewed my questions. There 
 the settlements were extensive ; many reached 2,500 acres, but 
 none answered to the description of " mammoth farms." " It is 
 really in Dakota," I was told, " that you will see them, but in 
 Northern Dakota. Here we are in Southern Dakota, which is 
 very different." A few days after, I arrived in Northern Da 
 kota. " Yes, it is really here, but not in all Northern Dakota. 
 Go to the Red River Valley and you will be satisfied." 
 
84 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 I went, obediently, to the Red River Valley, where I saw 
 again, near Fargo, Moorhead, Breckenridge and Grand Forks, 
 many farms similar to those of Southern Dakota ; however, the 
 Dalrymple Farm was pointed out to me as containing 55,000 
 acres, and another 40,000 acres. I did not, then, come back as 
 I went from my mammoth farm-hunt, but I think I may testify 
 that they are rare game, and that the Western States owe 
 their agricultural prosperity to another element. 
 
 It is easy, also, to understand why these farms have attracted 
 the attention of authors and travellers. Exceptional facts have 
 always the good fortune of not passing unnoticed. They are 
 often the only ones which a superficial observation seizes upon ; 
 but they are, nevertheless, the least interesting for those who 
 wish to make an exact account of things ; since precisely on 
 account of their exceptional character they have little influence. 
 Suppose, for example, that an architect wishes to study the 
 manner in which staircases are built in Paris : evidently, he 
 would gain a false impression if he attached the greatest im 
 portance to the merits of the one of the Opera. It is the stair 
 case most talked about in Paris, but it is also the one which 
 has the least influence on the ordinary conditions of habitation. 
 
 The mammoth farms are generally owned by proprietors 
 who are very anxious to make them known, and in a good 
 position to do this effectively, thus making their reputation 
 more extensive. In fact, they are farms run as advertisements, 
 so that they may be talked of. I have already pointed out 
 that when railroads are built in a new country, the companies 
 get enormous concessions of lands, which they endeavor by 
 every possible means to boom. 
 
 One of the commonest ways is to begin farm-work on those 
 grounds. Example is better than precept, and if the farm 
 thus created does not pay itself, it is at least useful in attract 
 ing settlers, and the proprietor compensates himself in this 
 way. The opening of small farms is enough to encourage 
 settling, but the railroad kings are often forced to make them 
 excessively large, for special reasons. An Act of 1862 decided 
 that all lands conceded to companies and not sold within three 
 years after the opening of the whole line, should be subjected 
 to pre-emption and homestead dues, like other public grounds ; 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 85 
 
 that is to say, that if the land be not sold, the concession is 
 withdrawn at the end of three years. To avoid this, the rail 
 road king buys part of this land himself, and may become, in 
 his way, the owner of a 55,ooo-acre farm. Of course, the whole 
 is not cul-tivated. Dalrymple Farm has only 15,000 acres 
 broken, the other 40,000 being prairie, bare as on the day it 
 left the Creator s hands. The luckiest thing that happens to 
 such a proprietor is to sell lot after lot of this land to charita 
 ble settlers ; and, indeed, this is usually the sole object of the 
 holders of such properties. 
 
 I fancy I can still hear the complaints of a banker who found 
 himself burdened with such a tract of land situated in Minne 
 sota, and of much less extent, too, for it was only 3,200 acres. 
 Formerly it had been bought, to boom the lands of a railway, 
 at $1.40 per acre. Mr. F. had broken up i.ooo acres and 
 enclosed 640, but did not find it profitable. " I am too far off, 
 and too busy," said he, "to look after this work myself, and 
 the manager who replaces me never stays long, because if he 
 does badly I send him away, and if he does well, he settles for 
 himself at the end of a year. You would render me a ser 
 vice," added he, like a good American, " if you found me a 
 buyer, and I would willingly give you a good commission." 
 
 I have neither sought or found any buyers, but some day 
 they will appear, and Mr. F. will rub his hands at the idea of 
 no longer losing money by his farm. 
 
 One cannot obtain an income from one s property in the Far 
 West, as in France, where the profits can be drawn at a notary s. 
 If the farmers of Beauce and Brie found good lands without an 
 owner within their reach, it is very certain that they would not 
 amuse themselves by cultivating those for which they have to 
 pay rent. Well, as there is plenty vacant land in the States, 
 so there cannot be any big farmers. 
 
 On the other hand, it is impossible to manage farms which 
 surpass certain limits. We have already seen how Mr. A. first 
 tried to centralize, but was forced to spread the workings on his 
 fattening-ranch of 5,000 acres. In the case of farms this is 
 even more necessary, for on them, also, laborers have to be very 
 highly paid. It is, moreover, next to impossible to keep them ; 
 and, besides, there is need of skill and closer oversight. In the 
 
86 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 future these mammoth farms will get their proper place. They 
 are not only exceptional but also temporary, as the fact that 
 they are not to be found in districts which have been settled for 
 twenty years proves. Dalrymple Farm itself is divided up into 
 lots of about 3,000 acres, each of which has its own buildings. 
 
 I was still less lucky in my search for steam-ploughs, for 
 / never saw a single one at work. I am far from asserting that 
 nobody uses them, for I have no pretensions of having visited 
 all the farms in the West ; but at least they are not very com 
 mon. At the beginning of my investigations a Kansas journal 
 ist assured me that these ploughs, so much used in Dakota, 
 were able to till an acre of land for 40 cents ; while the 
 same dressing cost $2.00 with a horse or cattle plough. I had 
 carefully marked this precious information in my note-book, 
 but frankness forces me to confess that I was well laughed at 
 when I gave it to the settlers of Dakota, who, without furnish 
 ing me with such precise figures, simply told- me that they had 
 tried steam-ploughs and given them up, because they did not 
 prove successful. Now the steam-ploughs held an equal place 
 with the mammoth farms in the more or less fantastic recitals 
 I had gathered here and there. The only thing to be learned 
 is that railway promoters in the States admirably understand 
 the art of advertising, and that the colonists, attracted by their 
 twaddle about steam-ploughs, break up the prairie with horse- 
 ploughs. 
 
 If, in crossing the vast plains of Dakota, you see a wide belt 
 of unbroken prairie, you may be pretty sure that this land is 
 still in the hands of some capitalist, more or less intimately 
 connected with the nearest railroad. It is in this negative form 
 that the mammoth farm is usually found. 
 
 In short, if one wishes to become acquainted with the way 
 in which the wheat and the maize which flood our markets are 
 actually cultivated, it is not on these large properties that one s 
 observations must be made ; but on those which really form 
 the dominent type the ordinary large farms. 
 
 II. THE ORDINARY LARGE FARM. 
 
 The large wheat-farms are mostly found in Dakota. They 
 should be carefully inspected, not only from a purely agricul- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 87 
 
 tural point of view, but also on account of the evidence they 
 give of a superior element in the population. Small claims of 
 160 acres are commonest even in these vast plains, for they are 
 the only ones on which the greatest number of immigrants 
 can establish. But there is also a good number of farms of 
 2,000 or 3,000 acres held by settlers who came with some 
 capital. These settlers are usually Americans. Young French 
 men and Englishmen of good family may be met with on the 
 ranches, but I am bound to say I have never found any on the 
 big farms. 
 
 The big farmer of the West nine times out of ten comes 
 from the Eastern States. He is a Yankee, turned farmer for 
 the moment, and occupies an exceptional place in the new 
 territory. In the midst of German or Scandinavian emigrants, 
 it is he who preserves the American nationality and imposes it 
 on the young settlement. But let us leave these general con 
 siderations. I propose to conduct my reader to some of the 
 large farms, where they will understand for themselves their 
 importance and the function performed by their owners. One 
 day, being forced to stop off a Moorhead, in the Red River 
 Valley, in consequence of the defective train arrangements, I 
 asked the proprietor of the hotel where I stayed about the 
 neighboring farms. By a coincidence, common enough in the 
 States, this hotelkeeper was also a farmer, and so able to be of 
 great service to me. While we were talking he telephoned to 
 the livery-stable, and just as we decided on my route, a little 
 buggy drew up before the hotel door. I had only to step into 
 it, to go one mile north, two miles east, and then half a mile 
 north to arrive at Mr. Shribner s farm, said to be that of a 
 model farmer. 
 
 Nothing is easier than to find one s way in those vast tree 
 less tracts, divided into square miles, with a road between each 
 square. 
 
 On stopping the buggy in a large courtyard surrounded by 
 buildings and fences, I asked, in an assured tone, as one well 
 aware of his facts, " This farm belongs to Mr. Shribner, does 
 it not ? I should like to speak to Mr. Shribner." " Oh ! Don t 
 you know that he has been dead six months ? " This reply 
 somewhat cooled my ardor, the hotelkeeper having forgotten 
 
88 
 
 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 to give me this detail, and I was obliged to admit that I was 
 not a private friend of Mr. Shribner s, but that the great rep 
 utation of his farm had made me visit it. While talking, I 
 fastened my horse to one of the posts set up for this purpose, 
 and drew out my note-book. An American is always favor 
 ably impressed by the sight of this object. Accustomed to 
 interviewing and reporting, he considers them powerful ad 
 vertisements, and always undergoes them with good grace. 
 Thus the task of an observer is easy, for he never finds him 
 self exposed to the distrustful suspicions of the peasants, as in 
 
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 PLAN OF A TOWNSHIP IN A WESTERN STATE. 
 
 Each section is a square mile (640 acres). The ordinary "claim" is the quarter of a section 
 (160 acres). 
 
 Europe, but everywhere receives a welcome. This is easily 
 understood. The peasant, living on his land, has no need of 
 anyone, and mistrusts the questioner. " Doubtless," says he 
 to himself, " he asks me all that to increase my taxes." Not so 
 with the American ; he needs to be talked about there is a 
 great advantage in it. If the neighboring lands are peopled 
 by immigrants attracted by his recital, he will be able to sell 
 his possessions at a good profit, and go to form another settle 
 ment elsewhere. Far from dreading the encroachment of the 
 foreigner, he calls for it with all his might. 
 
 The Scandinavian I now faced readily replied to my ques- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 89 
 
 tions and showed me his late master s farm. Mr. Shribner s 
 family were of German origin, as his name indicates, but he 
 came from Pennsylvania and is an American. On his arrival 
 in Dakota, twelve years before, he had bought 700 acres of land 
 near the town, and then resold them for $46,800, during a 
 " boom." Then he started the new settlement I visited. It is 
 much larger, being three and a half sections (2,240 acres), and 
 Mr. Shribner valued it at $83,200, including stock and machin 
 ery. The farm has been cleared and all the land is cultivated ; 
 even the 600 acres of prairie have grown a corn crop. The 
 plough that is used is a gang-plough. It cuts two furrows at 
 the same time and needs five horses to draw it, while the 
 driver calmly sits on a small iron seat, like those on our French 
 reaping and mowing machines. He has no bodily fatigue, like 
 the European laborer, bending over the furrow he is tracing ; 
 but he drives about with his five horses over the big field, and 
 has no physical effort, except that of regulating the depth to 
 be cut, by a lever placed within reach of his right hand. The 
 Dakota field-laborer needs neither a long apprenticeship nor 
 great skill, for his work is typically American, and such as 
 almost anybody could do. Sowing, reaping and mowing are 
 all done by a machine. The flatness of the land permits and 
 the dearness of hand-labor necessitates this. Mr. Shribner 
 usually has only ten or twelve men, at about $25 a month, 
 during the working months, but only one-half that number from 
 December to April. During harvest, threshing and mowing, 
 more men are needed, and a score of temporary hands are 
 hired for two or three months every year. These get $1.60 to 
 $2.00 a day. Everybody lives on the farm. 
 
 Such a business not only involves a large outlay in rolling- 
 stock, but also needs a capable manager. 
 
 In good years twenty to thirty bushels of wheat are got per 
 acre. In 1889, Mr. Shribner threshed about 60,000 bushels, 
 giving, him a good profit ; but in a dry Spring, the wheat does 
 not grow, or else grows badly, and the great cost of ploughing, 
 etc., becomes pure loss. 
 
 The great risk in Dakota is drought. The climate of such a 
 great plain, far from ocean and mountains, open to every 
 weather change, is naturally very continental. The Winters 
 
QO AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 are very severe, the thermometer often registering forty degrees 
 below zero, and the snow driven by the wind does not lie 
 thickly enough to protect the seed from frost. Only summer- 
 wheat is grown, and this is sown in May, not in March ; so 
 that the grain is no more than three months in the soil. At 
 the time it is sown the thaw gives some moisture, but if rain 
 does not fall, it soon withers and dies. Everything depends 
 on the weather during this short period of three months, and 
 I do not believe there is a country in the world where rain or 
 shine is discussed with greater interest than here. The news 
 papers publish jubilant telegrams when a shower has fallen in 
 some district : " Great Joy of the Farmers," " Harvest 
 Assured," etc. There is almost a public rejoicing in rain. The 
 people meet each other with radiant looks. The farmers 
 already see their wheat being cut by the reapers ; the mer 
 chants, their stock being bought ; the bankers, their interest 
 being paid ; and the speculators, the rising of the price of land. 
 Everybody lives directly or indirectly on farming in these 
 lands ; and everybody re-echoes the saying of the peasants 
 when a long-wished for rain falls: " Ah, sir, see the money 
 falling ! " 
 
 The Red River Valley is said to be less subject to draught 
 than other parts of Dakota, and so the harvest there is more 
 uniform; but I was told of certain counties where the harvest 
 varied from none to five bushels an acre in a dry year. This 
 means not only suffering for all, but disaster for many. Nor is 
 there any compensation, for wheat is the staple saleable pro 
 duce of Dakota. Mr. Shribner grew nearly 4,000 bushels of 
 barley and about as many bushels of oats, besides the wheat ; 
 but they were eaten by the fifty horses needed on the farm. 
 Nevertheless, Mr. Shribner tried to get rid of the great risk of 
 all his profit being at the mercy of a shower, by varying the 
 grain grown and utilizing a neighboring town by starting a 
 dairy. The combination he adopted is interesting in its sim 
 plicity. The animals on a Dakota farm are usually either for 
 farm work or for carrying things. It is no good gathering a 
 lot of manure, as the fields are not fertilized ; the land being 
 so fertile that even no rotation of crop is necessary. For a 
 series of eight or nine years wheat is sown, and the future left 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 91 
 
 to look after itself. If the land be exhausted, so much the 
 worse ; there are other fields further West. The all-important 
 object is to make the most dollars in the least time. Mr. 
 Shribner did not adopt this short-sighted policy ; yet he wished 
 to avoid too great complexity in his farming, so served part of 
 the land with a mixture of oats and peas, to be cut green, 
 which gave much less work than root-crops and, kept in ensil 
 age, made excellent food for milch cows. 
 
 There are 175 head of cattle, including calves, on Mr. 
 Shribner s farm to-day ; and 200 pigs live on the dairy refuse 
 a subsidiary but important source of profit. The second crop 
 of oats and peas, buried when green, keeps the ground fertile. 
 But this better system is exceptional in Dakota, where the 
 ordinary practice is to exhaust the ground, as is done every 
 where in the West. All the same, I came across another farm 
 of 960 acres worked in the same way and close to Mr. Shrib 
 ner s. It belonged to a Moorhead banker, Mr. T., and was 
 noteworthy for the excellent condition of the buildings and the 
 special care taken in butter-making. On both farms the cows 
 are fine Holstein Weizen. They were imported at great cost, 
 and the Danish laborer who showed me Mr. T. s barns was be 
 wailing the loss of a $1,000 bull. In the centre of the barn 
 and under the same roof were three huge boxes holding the 
 ensilage of oats and peas. I saw a $1,600 Percheron stallion 
 in the stable, ten breeding-mares and twenty work-horses, all in 
 splendid condition. It seemed to be a most carefully-farmed 
 place, and directed by a man who was both intelligent and 
 rich. 
 
 Mr. T. has built a house on the farm and lives there all the 
 busy season, going to his bank for only a few hours every day. 
 In Winter time he stays in Moorhead and visits the farm occa 
 sionally. On returning from my expedition I found him in 
 his office, and the valuable information he gave me confirmed 
 the opinion I had formed of him when inspecting his farm. 
 He said, " You must not forget that this is essentially a 
 grain-growing country, although you have seen some milch 
 cows on my farm. I set up the dairy only to make use of the 
 green oats and peas, which I sow simply because I am afraid 
 of exhausting the land too soon. I believe that the system 
 
92 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 will show good results in a few years. Most of my neighbors, 
 especially those who have mortgaged their lands to buy imple 
 ments, beasts and seed, have only one idea in their heads, 
 to sow wheat and get out of debt. It is usually reckoned too 
 much to sow on the same land for a dozen years in succession ; 
 yet many settlers are inclined to go beyond that limit. The 
 settling here in Dakota is too recent to show the deplorable 
 results of this abuse, but they are visible in the part of the 
 Valley which is in Minnesota. Yet the soil of this Red River 
 Valley is a wonderful one for cereals. The ratio of twenty to 
 thirty bushels an acre is correct, as statistics show ; and I have 
 even had a higher one. If it does not rain we still have some 
 moisture in this region, for the dews are so heavy in June that 
 one wets one s feet in walking on the grass at 10 o clock in 
 the forenoon. The nearness of the Red River probably 
 causes this, which is rare in Dakota." 
 
 Mr. T., like his neighbor, Mr. Shriber, is of Pennsylvania:! 
 origin. His double quality of proprietor and banker shows 
 that he has in him both the superior elements the American 
 race gives the new Western States. I have already mentioned, 
 in connection with the ranches, that New England in particu 
 lar, and the East in general, supplies the capital which makes 
 the work of the poorer immigrants fruitful. In truth, agricul 
 tural credit is indispensable to the settling of the West, and 
 middlemen are needed to organize it. The big mortgage 
 banks of Boston and New York tried to do without them, and 
 suffered in consequence. If any do exist, they lend entirely 
 on town lots, always easily resold if the borrower breaks his 
 bond. But for farm mortgages to be fairly safe, it is necessary 
 to know the settler himself, to watch him, to know if he is 
 doing well or badly, and to what extent. The man is the 
 security, not the land. Before lending, it is needful to know- 
 how active he is, his capabilities, the chances he has of succeed 
 ing. As to his land, it is not worth much in itself, or, if you 
 will, it is worth $1.25 per acre, if a buyer can be found for it. 
 When all the land is broken, the buildings erected and live 
 stock and machines purchased, the place has a greater value ; 
 but the poor immigrant needs the money he borrows from the 
 banker for buying the stock or implements and for build- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 93 
 
 ing. Only some one settled out there can safely risk lending 
 the money, and thus we find one or more banks, with an 
 American as manager, in every little market town that is 
 growing up in the midst of these farms. 
 
 In the West the American plays the same part as do the irriga 
 tion canals in Egypt, for they insure plenty by circulating 
 money, as the canals do in distributing the fertilizing mud ; 
 but instead of acting unconsciously and mechanically, they 
 open the sluices which keep back the wonder-working dollar 
 according to the amount of confidence with which this or that 
 settler inspires them. They must judge men, for success is 
 proportional to their skill in this delicate art. 
 
 Every man with some capital is not equal to this. He is a 
 superior man who can judge others, appreciate their capabili 
 ties, and see in the immigrant all rags and tatters the steady 
 settler of the future; and I am not at all astonished to see the 
 prominent positions which American bankers usually occupy 
 in the West. They, along with railway managers, form the 
 nucleus of a governing class. 
 
 I know that this opinion will set most American citizen up 
 in arms, for they are firmly decided to have neither governors 
 nor governed. However, I maintain it, for it seems to me to 
 be perfectly just. Doubtless, equality seems better realized in 
 the United States than anywhere else ; but everywhere there, 
 even more than elsewhere, men are classed according to 
 their work, and play parts that vary with that work. Cer 
 tainly, nobody is ranked after the antecedents of his family or 
 the fame of his ancestors ; nobody takes a higher place with 
 out giving some proof of superior personal ability. But 
 although the governing-class is not a close corporation, it never 
 theless exists. It constantly absorbs the choicest elements 
 from the mass of the nation and rejects the others. It is the 
 outcome of a constant selection. 
 
 The big settlers, such as those whose farms we have inspected, 
 who import fine breeds and introduce better agricultural 
 methods, ought also to be counted among the governing-class. 
 They even have a place of their own in it, because they are the 
 people of the country, and most intimately identified with its 
 interests and its future, more than the banker and much more 
 
94 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 than the railway man. They have another distinguishing 
 characteristic. While the banker brings one or two clerks with 
 him, or engages them out there, the big settler employs a dozen 
 men all the year round, and thirty for three months every year. 
 He is a labor-employer, and thus is of great service to the 
 crowds of immigrants who come to settle in the West without 
 money, and who are unable to accomplish this if they cannot 
 find some lucrative employment within reach. How many so- 
 called proprietors, settled on their little " claims," are glad to 
 earn a dollar and a half or two dollars a day by hiring them 
 selves to him during the busy season ? How many others get 
 in his school the experience and capital which lead to their 
 ultimate success? 
 
 The American who owns a big farm is, in a measure, the 
 framework of the crowd that comes to seek fortune in Western 
 States. This crowd is almost exclusively American or Scan 
 dinavian in Dakota principally Scandinavian. At Mr. Schrib- 
 ner s, a Norwegian received me ; he was an old sailor who had 
 stayed in the States to practice farming. At Mr. T s., I began 
 talking to a Dane ; and on enquiring about the nationality of 
 these laborers on the farms, I found they were all Swedes, Norse 
 or Danes. The stores in the little towns in the Valley in 
 Moorhead, in Fargo, in Breckenridge, in Grand Forks had 
 Scandinavian signs ; and I began to ask myself if Dakota is 
 about to be invaded by the Normans as Europe was in the 
 Middle Ages. 
 
 It is interesting to see how the European immigrants have 
 distributed themselves over the immense territory of the United 
 States. While the Irish and the people from Central Germany 
 stay in the little manufacturing towns of New England and 
 Pennsylvania, or at most venture to some of the great Western 
 cities ; the German of the plains and the Scandinavian go and 
 are lost in the out-of-the-way farms of Kansas, Nebraska, Min 
 nesota, and Dakota, where they find the same conditions of 
 independence to which they were used in their fatherland. 
 
 The peasant from Lauenbourg or Schleswig, or the Nor 
 wegian fisherman is no more frightened to live alone on the 
 vast American prairies than in the isolation of the Scandi 
 navian Hof; and on the other side of the Atlantic he finds 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 95 
 
 plenty of that land he cannot get at home. This is the real 
 cause of their wanderings, just as it was in the days of the 
 vikings ; but the manner and effect of their migrations have 
 greatly changed ; for, instead of bursting into tears as the 
 Great Emperor of the flowing beard did when he saw their 
 frail ships sail up the Seine, President Harrison cannot but 
 rub his hands when the official dispatches announce that 
 another group of Scandinavians has landed at New York. 
 They are no longer formidable to the Government watching 
 over the safety of its country ; they no longer come in 
 arms, led by audacious vikings ; but they come, drawn by 
 the enticing prospectus of some emigration agent, and peace 
 ably take possession of vacant and fertile lands indicated to 
 them. Indeed, what would be the use of arms ? They have 
 not to fight with any human being, nor do they take ariyone s 
 place. Their immigration and settlement are much more 
 easily managed now ; but in the more heroic times, when they 
 were less so, Scandinavians used to become chiefs in the coun 
 tries which they invaded. There are no more Rollos or Rag- 
 nard Lodbrogs among them. The ocean police have closed 
 the series of Sagas and drained the source of that celebrated 
 aristocracy of sea-kings. Since the piratry has been abol 
 ished which gave Norway its great men, that poor conntry 
 sends out only folks of little means the sons of fishermen and 
 peasants. It is these precious but modest elements which the 
 American governs and which he rapidly assimilates. 
 
 If, as sometimes happens, a Scandinavian makes a fortune 
 big enough to raise him from his original condition to an impor 
 tant position, he Americanizes himself more quickly than those 
 who remain in the lower ranks, and becomes absorbed in the 
 interests of the class he has entered. I have come across sev 
 eral examples of this, one being a big land-owner in Minne 
 sota, who came to America a poor Swedish immigrant, without 
 resources, and who is now enormously rich. He made his fortune 
 in a characteristically Yankee manner. Arriving at a lucky 
 hour, he was eggaged as agent for a Dutch company that 
 owned a lot of land, and he speculated for them for fifteen years, 
 drawing a large share of the profits himself, and finding time 
 to start and then sell at great profit three farms in succession, 
 
96 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 each greater than the other and each farther West. Thus, 
 though a Swede, he was predestined to become American. 
 
 In the Western States there are also farmers who have been 
 fortunate enough to rise from a farm of 160 acres and become 
 owners of fairly large farms, without making money except by 
 wheat-growing. These are not Yankees, but Germans, Scandi 
 navians or Anglo-Canadians, incapable of turning to a dozen 
 different trades in the course of a few years, to constrain for 
 tune to favor them, but sterling laborers, good watchers over 
 their profits, and, let me add, well helped by chance. For in 
 stance, I saw in Aberdeen County, South Dakota, two brothers, 
 Canadians of English origin, who had come without a cent, but 
 who then owned 1,150 acres of land, 1,100 being arable. Such 
 settlers do not play the same part as the rich capitalists, who 
 seek trTe best methods of culture and breed races of selected 
 animals; they do not develop the progress of agriculture, but 
 are given to abuse their land by drawing out of it wheat and 
 dollars. Everyone of them borrows, at least at first, for they 
 have neither stock nor implements nor money to buy these. 
 The money is usually lent them at 8 per cent, or 10 per cent., 
 so that they have large sums to pay as interest every year. In 
 such conditions, how can they help trying to free themselves 
 even at the price of exhausting the land? 
 
 From the agricultural point of view, then, they represent a 
 lower type of big farmer, but they are of very great importance 
 for the future of the country. They form the steadiest ele 
 ments of the population, the base of all others, and give some 
 material stability to a people always on the move. The banker 
 and the big land-owner usually come to boom a town or the 
 neighboring lands. If they find that it will pay to give up the 
 bank or the lands, they go somewhere else to start the same 
 operation, or to begin some new business that seems profitable. 
 But the settlement of a Scandinavian or a rural German is more 
 fixed, for they have left home with the idea of having a place 
 of their own ; they have come to get land, as the Normans of 
 the Middle Ages, and once they gain their end, they ask noth 
 ing better than to be left to live and die on the soil that is their 
 own and which has become fertile by their labors. 
 
 Each of these two elements helps to develop the country. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 97 
 
 The American leads the conquest of the West ; he opens new 
 territories, he is pioneer; he builds the railroads and opens 
 the way. The German and the Scandinavian make the con 
 quest certain ; they settle where the American has done noth 
 ing but pass by; they found stable households, and finally at 
 tach themselves to their second Fatherland. After twenty 
 years they are all Americans. 
 
 We have seen how the big land-owner does the greatest ser 
 vice to poor immigrants in giving them profitable work. Besides 
 those who come to work on his estate, he often has tenant- 
 farmers paying rent, some in money, some in kind ; others as 
 produce-sharers. Every kind of combination, every sort of 
 tenure exists in the States, as we have already seen in connection 
 with the fattening-ranches. They rise naturally from different 
 sorts of circumstances, and each corresponds to a different sort 
 of need, to a special class of people. It is evident, for instance, 
 that an immigrant who is a perfect stranger to farm-life, and 
 who is not used to hard work or intense and prolonged physical 
 exertion, cannot get a situation as farm-laborer, nor settle on 
 the 160 acres the Government grants him. Nobody would 
 keep him on the farm ; he would die of hunger on his claim. 
 However, if a proprietor lend him a team, a plough and a 
 sower^ he may, by taking advice from his neighbor and giving 
 time to the work, sow some of his land and reap a harvest in 
 three months. That will not make him rich all at once, but he 
 will begin to gather a little capital without having run any 
 risks, and the proprietor is paid for his advances and the letting 
 of his land by getting a part of the crops. Such a way of be 
 ginning is open to everybody. I once met in Kansas an um 
 brella seller from Lyons. He had arrived in the country three 
 days before and began his first attempts at agriculture in this 
 way, on the land of a compatriot, whose tenant he would have 
 to he for several months. 
 
 The immigrant who comes with his family, and thus has a 
 certain number of hands at his disposal, may find a place on 
 more important estates, as a farmer paying a fixed rent or as a 
 produce-sharer. He has a house and farm-buildings supplied 
 to him. Many begin in this way and find it better than to settle 
 at once on a claim, far from all resources and where everything 
 
98 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 has to be created. But everywhere in the United States the 
 position of tenant is considered only a temporary one. Every 
 body aspires to be independent, and everybody tries to be so. 
 Some periodically fall to a subordinate position, but most suc 
 ceed some time or another. One never finds a family of ten 
 ants who have remained on the land of one owner for several 
 generations, as sometimes happens in Europe. While such long 
 engagements are considered by us to be most honorable, in 
 America a man blushes to remain so long on the same rung of 
 the social ladder. 
 
 It follows that few tenures are durable. A great landowner 
 does not say he owns ten or twenty farms, for that gives no 
 idea of the extent of his property. He says he owns so many 
 acres. The manner of exploiting them varies. If he does not 
 care to look after his property himself, he lets as much as he 
 can, for a year, or even for six months, according to circum 
 stances. But nothing is fixed. Some years he will cultivate 
 I, ooo acres himself ; other years only 100. A great landlord 
 may thus find himself; forced to cultivate all his lands himself 
 someday or another; and it is necessary that he should be 
 able to manage his farms himself, otherwise there is every 
 chance that they will become waste-land. 
 
 This explains how certain settlers are hindered from return 
 ing to their native land, after having made some money in the 
 States. The master gone, the property becomes worthless. It 
 is necessary to sell it before leaving. Other difficulties arise, for 
 it is not always possible to find a purchaser, and when he has 
 been fonnd, the price he offers has Iktle relation to the 
 accustomed income. I have several times come across French 
 men who were kept back by such considerations, from taking 
 the first boat which was to cross the Atlantic to Havre. French 
 people do not willingly settle abroad. They bitterly regret 
 the society of their fellow-countrymen, the caf of their little 
 town, the asphate of the boulevard, or the evening chatter in 
 their village. They have not got that thoroughly rural dispo 
 sition, and especially that custom of isolation which makes the 
 Scandinavian find company in himself and live happily in his 
 solitude and independeuce. Among those few Frenchmen who 
 do succeed, how many are forced to remain Americans in spite 
 of their wishes ! 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 99 
 
 If it be difficult to find farmers in the United States existing 
 under such systems of tenure, where only a few hire them 
 selves for a very short time, it is quite easy to discover them in 
 a certain sort of rural property, on which everybody has lived 
 at some time or another. I intend to speak of those small 
 properties whereon many cannot keep themselves, but where 
 many live the " homestead." 
 
 The word " homestead " has several meanings that it is nec 
 essary to define ; the commonest being " a family establish 
 ment " (installation familiale). That is its grammatical signifi 
 cance ; but it also means in legal language, a portion of land 
 which the proprietor has the right to mortgage and which 
 escapes from the hands of creditors. But in the United States 
 a " homestead" or "claim is more generally understood of 
 the 1 60 acres, which any citizen has the right to occupy on any 
 vacant land, if he fulfil certain conditions. 
 
 Let us investigate as to the kind of settlers who occupy 
 those homesteads. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 FARMING ON A SMALL SCALE. THE HOMESTEAD. 
 
 I. THE APPARENT EASE OF SETTLING. 
 
 At first sight, nothing seems easier than to settle on a home 
 stead. Every emigration company will inform you that all 
 vacant ground belongs to the Government of the United 
 States, and that it gives it to the intending colonists on the 
 most liberal terms. Indeed, it is possible to get 160 acres of 
 land in three different ways, by settling there and notifying 
 the Government Bureau which of the three ways is adopted. 
 
 To make you proprietor of these 160 acres as a homestead 
 proper, it is only necessary that two neighbors witness that 
 you have built a house and tilled part of the land in five 
 years. There is no other expenditure. To reduce the time 
 of residence to six months, you pay the government $1.25 per 
 acre, i. <?., $200. This is the right of " Pre-emption." Finally, 
 should you wish a larger tract of land, you may add a third 
 to these two modes of acquiring it. The " timber claim " is 
 a further grant of 160 acres, given when you have planted ten 
 acres with trees a great gain on the bare prairies. In these 
 ways you may find yourself master of 160 acres. 
 
 Your wife has the same rights as you have, and so has your 
 son and even your daughter, if they are of age ; and a large 
 family is certain to find a property for itself and plenty of 
 work for its members. It is as easy to till the ground as to 
 become its owner. 
 
 A man who has newly come West can farm unbroken and 
 usually very fertile soil with the ingenious American imple 
 ments. Hence the notion widely spread among the settlers, 
 that anybody, no matter who, is capable of running a home- 
 
102 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 stead. One day I was with a Frenchman who had settled in 
 Kansas a long time ago, and who was now owner of his home 
 stead. After a long walk over his grounds he said to me, 
 after proudly glancing around him, " You see, Sir, what I 
 have done here. In the time of the Indians I began with my 
 two arms, defending my cattle and crops from them ; some 
 times selling my plough-oxen to get a few measures of flour, 
 to keep me from starving ; and yet I never learned anything 
 but my trade of cabinet-making in my home in Burgundy." 
 I asked him if many of his neighbors began farming for the 
 first time on their homesteads. " Why, down in that valley 
 through which you came to get here," he replied, " one farmer 
 was once a waiter, another a salesman at Pygmalion, in Paris, 
 a third a journeyman printer from New York, another is an 
 old Norwegian sailor, who deserted ; and I can point out to 
 you an advocate, old soldiers, merchants, and so on. The 
 main thing is to be energetic, never to give in, and to be 
 healthy, else everybody could farm like us, with machines 
 which do all the work themselves." 
 
 To support this the former-cabinet maker pointed to a 
 worker who was sowing maize ; seated on a little cast-metal 
 seat, he guided the horses and watched the working of his 
 corn-planter. At regular intervals a few grains fell to the soil, 
 in which the flat wheel of the machine hid them, while a kind 
 of light wooden-shoe traced the next row. The man s work 
 consisted simply in keeping the team straight, in filling the 
 boxes with maize when they were empty, and in turning the 
 machine at each end of the field. This needed no great exer 
 tion and no special skill. No word, no cry, no song accom 
 panied the operation, and I thought to myself of the display 
 of force, of the energetic oaths, and the full-voiced songs of 
 the Southern French peasants, when they sow their maize in 
 the fertile plains of Gascony or of Beam. It needs a Gascon 
 or a Bearnais to make such an energetic cattle-driver, to sing 
 those songs, and to come back from work swinging his goad 
 behind his back ; but it suffices for the management of a 
 " standard corn-planter " to have watched another work it for 
 five minutes. As I have before said, an umbrella-seller can 
 use it very well two days after his arrival in the States. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 103 
 
 It is the same for wheat, in working and even breaking-in 
 the prairie. The ploughs are always light, very sharp and easy 
 to guide. The gang-ploughs" used on the large farms, need 
 five horses to pull them, but they are not for the farmer of a 
 homestead, who has smaller ploughs, always of simple construc 
 tion and easily managed. And more than this, the land never 
 needs manuring, nor draining, nor liming, nor very hard work 
 in breaking it; for any that needs such care is at once left for 
 better ground near at hand. The need for skilled labor is thus 
 a minimum, and does not hinder the colonists, who soon and 
 easily learns and practices such a simple mode of culture. 
 
 II. THE FIRST NECESSARY CONDITION FOR SUCCESS. 
 
 Nevertheless, everybody is not fitted for a colonist, and for 
 those who are, there are many different ways of being one. 
 There is a higher question than that of mere technique. 
 
 To be convinced of this, ask some of the Irish, or listen to the 
 talk of Frenchmen, who have emigrated to the United States. 
 He who told me that on looking back it seemed always possi 
 ble to make a farm even though one be a Burgundian cabinet 
 maker, forgot one factor, and that a most important one : he 
 forgot his wife, who had done so much for their property and 
 did not hide it. " He was lucky, mon Bourguignon" she said, 
 "to meet with such a Comtoise as I." She told me how she 
 had waded into the water up to her waist to save the calves 
 from drowning in the creek; how she had jumped astride the 
 first horse to turn the wandering cattle; how she had hurried 
 up the workers, and so on. To-day, even, it is she who spans 
 the buggy when her husband is going to town, and it is easy to 
 see that this Burgundian has, indeed, been very fortunate in 
 his partner. True, she is very anxious to go back to France, 
 thinking that while America is good enough for gathering the 
 sous, as she said, it was only in France one knew how to spend 
 them. Her dream was to settle in Paris, or to build in her 
 native village one of these miniature chateaux, whose towers, 
 big as a Havana cigar, menace the sky with their ornamented 
 weathercocks. But Father D. does not see the matter in that 
 light. He calculates that his land brings him in 8 per cent, in 
 
104 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 letting it to tenants, but that it is difficult to sell, and that it 
 would not be profitable to leave Kansas; and Father D. has 
 never made bad bargains and does not wish to begin now. 
 
 In fact, he is strongly attached to this corner of Mother Earth, 
 whose transformation he has seen and directed. " When you 
 have made everything yourself, and when you find all you wish 
 at home, without seeking for it elsewhere, you have no great 
 longing for quitting home ; but ma bourgeoise can t understand 
 that; she sighs for her country." Considering her influence in 
 the household, I am afraid that Father D. will end his days far 
 from his Kansas farm. 
 
 Unluckily for many a colonist, his bourgeoise wants to go 
 back to the home-land long before they have made their for 
 tunes, and this is very often the case among the French. It is 
 not the trouble of doing everything for themselves, or the 
 change in their habits that makes it hard for Frenchwomen, 
 but their isolation. Better than most, they know how to suffer 
 privations ; more than many, they can keep house with that 
 mixture of economy and care which is provident of the hus 
 band s purse and yet gives him an agreeable home ; but they 
 are never consoled for the absence of society. According to 
 their rank and their education they regret the bonne compagnie 
 which usually does not exist in the West, or the cosey chats by 
 the fireside, which is the pleasure common to every class in 
 France. The American of Anglo-Saxon origin finds sufficient 
 company in himself ; and if he have a taste for society, it is 
 restricted to his home, to his wife and bairns ; and as to the 
 rest, these are his neighbors, the neighbors whom we should 
 love as ourselves, but of whom, on account of human frailty, 
 we think much less of than of ourselves. Neither sister nor 
 brother nor cousins are other than neighbors for him; he has 
 not that larger family feeling which characterizes certain 
 European peoples ; he is not bound to folks of his own blood 
 by any special connections. Still more, he does not live for 
 ever with the people he has known in his youth, and who form, 
 so to speak, an extension of his family. So it does not mutter 
 much to him if he settles far from his relatives and friends ; 
 provided the land is profitable and his neighbors pick no 
 quarrels with him, he considers his home well fixed until a new 
 
AMEklCAN LIFE. 105 
 
 order arrives. It is the same with the Scandinavian, who quits 
 his fiord for an unknown land in the Far West of America, 
 without shedding a tear for the country he is leaving. He 
 goes forth alone, well decided beforehand never to return ; to 
 marry a young girl of the new land where he has settled, when 
 he has found one, and when he has gathered some money. Not 
 only does he expatriate himself, but he isolates himself ; he 
 loses himself, for he has broken with his origin. 
 
 Neither Irish, nor French, nor the general run of Germans 
 act thus. The Irish live in the towns ; so do the French, as a 
 rule ; but when one does risk himself in a homestead, he takes 
 one near some small centre, and as far as possible in a district 
 where he will find several compatriots. His strongest desire is 
 to be one of a crowd, to feel his neighbor s elbows. It seems 
 as if he were in his distant fatherland when he sees the farms 
 around him cultivated by Frenchmen, on whose help he can 
 rely or with whom he can talk in his own tongue. As French 
 speakers from France are scarce in the West, he fraternizes 
 with Swiss, Belgians Luxemburgians, any who can speak 
 French or something like it. One does not meet these small 
 groups of French settlers on the extreme frontiers of coloni 
 zation. I saw none in Dakota or Oklahoma, but found a few 
 of them in Missouri and Kansas. 
 
 I shall never forget these visits to my fellow-countrymen. 
 When a real Frenchman, a Fran^ais de France, as they say, 
 visits them, they lay on him all their patriotic affection, and a 
 bond of sympathy is at once formed, in spite of the different 
 origins and situations which would have raised barriers diffi 
 cult to cross in the old country. Everywhere they receive you 
 with open arms, feast and fondle you as an old friend. Every 
 one, rich or poor, invites you. They speak of a thousand 
 things at once ; of Paris, and of the Far West ; of the last 
 piece at the Gymnase, an account of which they have got from 
 an illustrated journal, and of the cattle shows; of the latest 
 political crisis, or of the use of agricultural machines. It is a 
 rule to drink together, whatever the hour of the day may be, and 
 to laugh at the Yankee Prohibitionists, who swallow iced-water 
 and suffer from dyspepsia. If you wish to know the worst side 
 of American life, go and sit at these hospitable tables, where you 
 
IC>6 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 will hear it criticised in every detail. They will tell you of the 
 egoism of the parents, the independence of the children, the 
 boldness of the girls, and the hypocrisy of everybody. The 
 women are never exhausted on this subject. Brought up 
 among different customs, which have become a sort of inviol 
 able code to them, they do not understand the manners around 
 them, and so condemn them without reserve. The husbands 
 are usually less absolute in their judgments, and soften the 
 hard epithets : American parents are not precisely egoists, 
 they say ; but they wish their children to manage for them 
 selves, as they have done before them, and this explains the 
 independence of the young men forced to depend on their own 
 activity alone, and the boldness of the girls, who are expected 
 to provide for their establishment according to their own 
 likings and ability. 
 
 Nothing is more instructive than these conjugal discussions. 
 All the obstacles which our French system of education puts 
 in the path of those who try to settle out there especially 
 the women are clearly seen. It is easy to imagine the stupe 
 faction of a young girl brought up in a small town in the 
 South of France, with several friends permited by the family, 
 with her piano, her embroidery, her preserves and her little 
 brother, when she sees the daughters of Eve of the New- 
 World travelling alone whenever they know how to find their 
 way, driving their buggy, riding on horseback, walking about 
 arm-in-arm with some boy, speaking of everything and saying 
 nothings. Such manners appear strange to them, because of 
 the absence of the proprieties which characterizes them. They 
 also feel that any intimacy, such as they know it, could not 
 grow with such people, who lack the feeling necessary before 
 they could take pleasure in the little exchange of confidences 
 which is at the bottom of feminine friendships in France ; and 
 they remember with bitterness the old companions of their 
 youth who have remained in the old country. It is true that 
 these must live a little stingily from the small clerkship of 
 their husbands and the littleness of their dot, but they have 
 every enjoyment of the things that are lacking in the new 
 country, for although their hat does not come from Paris, it is 
 copied from that of a lady who sometimes goes to Paris ; al- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 107 
 
 though their house is not of the highest condition, they have 
 a bonne to open the door and to do the cooking; and, when a 
 day for receiving guests arrives, you almost believe that they 
 must live in luxury. And then they can see their friends. 
 They can even slightly slander them in discussing them with 
 other friends ; they are u ladies " (dames] as the others are. In 
 the West all this little structure of variety falls of itself. Life 
 is more isolated, and is not organized with regard to social re 
 lations, but in view of the task of each member. This task is 
 all-absorbing and leaves little leisure time ; and none knows 
 what to do with it should it arrive. The men console them 
 selves by thinking that America is a very good place for busi 
 ness, and that existence is enlarged there ; but the women feel 
 cruelly the loss of the family and social enjoyments to which 
 they have been accustomed. Hence, they try to reproduce in 
 the States as many as possible of the European customs; they 
 force their husbands to settle near a town, to give themselves 
 an illusion of society ; they get them to let their land to avoid 
 the bustle of the farming and the resulting complications in the 
 house-holding, and then they make them sell their homesteads 
 and return to France, whenever it is possible to do so with some 
 profit. It would be necessary to place them in an important 
 group of French settlers in order to render bearable a situation 
 so foreign to their tastes, and to let them find on a small scale 
 what they desire so eagerly. Some organized immigration 
 must be attempted before this can be done; some such 
 group must already exist somewhere, and these, unfortunately, 
 are uncommon. 
 
 Near Kansas City, however, I came across a certain number 
 of Frenchmen who were market-gardeners, established on East 
 Bottom, that is on the rich alluvial lands formed by the Mis 
 souri to the east of the town. They were from Card, from the 
 Juras, from Switzerland, vine-dressers or mountaineers, hard- 
 workers, greedy of gain. Several had already amassed a con. 
 siderable sum in selling vegetables in the market. The first 
 came over in 1876, driven from home by the phylloxeras, with 
 his wife and five children, in a state of great misery. " On 
 our arrival," said Mine. M. to me, " I spent four days in the 
 barracks, built for immigrants at the side of the station, with 
 
I08 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 thirty-three cents in my pocket. That was all we owned, and 
 those big boys there were not old enough to make their living. 
 Luckily, my husband soon found work as a working-gardener. 
 He did not know his trade very well, but he had been used to 
 looking after the vines, and knew how to clean and dig the 
 land. But, you see, in this country it does not do to be too 
 particular; so his master kept him on for two years at good 
 wages, and that let us live and save a little. After two years 
 we were in a position to start for ourselves on some hired land ; 
 and, as at that time Kansas was being rapidly built, the town 
 began to boom ; everybody had plenty to do, and all went 
 well. Ah ! these are good times, sir, when there is a great 
 boom ! At the market, on Saturday evening, when the 
 workers came to get their wages, everything could be sold for 
 whatever price was asked. There was no need to put oneself 
 about, especially with the * niggers. They are by far the best 
 customers to be found when they have a few dollars in their 
 pockets. With this to help, my husband w r as soon able to buy 
 the fourteen acres we now own. It was dear, all the same, for 
 it cost us $3,000 ; but we knew what we were getting, at least ; 
 for it is not like a homestead, which they give you on the 
 prairie to go to and starve. It has not hindered us, at all 
 events, from having our house and paying a further $1,100 to 
 the contractor. It is true, my poor husband is dead. He 
 suffered too many privations at first." 
 
 M. s success had attracted one of his nephews to come to 
 him, to sell cabbage and salads to the inhabitants of Kansas 
 City ; but times are changed, and the trade is not what it used 
 to be. The " boom " has slackened markedly, and all have felt 
 this ; and then California has begun to send the earliest vege 
 tables to the markets and to compete successfully with those 
 grown at Kansas City ; so that the nephew has not reached the 
 same degree of comfort as his uncle so rapidly did. His house 
 is a miserable wood-cabin, whose badly-jointed planks let both 
 wind and rain enter. He has tried to stop up the troublesome 
 openings with tarred paper, but the remedy is of very little 
 use. It is a pitiable dwelling. For all that, he has already 
 bought five acres at $250 an acre, and hires seven more; he 
 keeps two laborers, and does not complain. However, that is 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. log 
 
 a characteristic of the race. The French peasant, especially if 
 from the South, does not require much. When he can eat 
 about as much as he wishes, and can get any sort of mattress 
 to lie down on, night comes and finds him satisfied. When he 
 has laid aside a little money, he is more willing to spend it in 
 buying more land than in increasing his well-being ; and it is 
 by this he rises. Saving is his great power. 
 
 That is especially noticeable in the United States, among 
 Americans who are always prodigal with their money; and from 
 this point of view also he keeps his superiority over the immi 
 grants from Ireland, England, Scandinavia, and even over those 
 from Germany. On the other hand, he backs the spirit of 
 enterprise ; he is wise but not daring, economical but not timid. 
 For instance, the excellent young gardener has no desire to 
 push his fortune on new ground. That appears to him to be 
 insane, although he is surrounded by folks who have done so 
 and succeeded. But he immediately feels in what he is lack 
 ing, and keeps to his market-gardening. All the same, he has 
 bought some lots of land near Oklahoma-Texas, but as a pure 
 speculation and without quite knowing where he will be. An 
 Auvergnian hotelkeeper in Kansas City advised him to take 
 these lots, to get rid of them himself. One remains Auvergnian 
 even in Kansas, and the bargaining follows the child of Cantal 
 to the other side of the Atlantic. 
 
 Each time I met a Frenchman in the States I noted his pro 
 found aversion to solitude, and was brought to think that this 
 contributes more than anything else to keep us outside the 
 great movement of colonial expansion which steam navigation 
 has brought about during the present century. Extraordi 
 nary events are needed for a migration en masse. This is the only 
 kind of emigration that those who dread being isolated in a 
 strange land are capable of making. The reasons which made 
 the Pilgrim Fathers embark to colonize America in the heroic 
 age ; those which led the Menonites to exile themselves in our 
 
 o 
 
 own day, occur rarely in the life of the people. But the cir 
 cumstances which push a young man to make a position for 
 himself exist in every generation, and for each member of it. 
 They are normal, regular, constant. Whenever the young men 
 have a taste for independence great enough to let them agree 
 
110 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 to isolation, and also an education according with this liking, 
 they turn settlers just as easily as others become clerks or ser 
 vants. It is their innate love of independence that supports 
 the American in all these trying undertakings. They accept 
 everything solitude, absence of the most elementary comfort, 
 the dangers of a wandering life in the midst of a desert coun 
 try in order to become their own masters and to live in their 
 own homes. I have often heard strangers deride their notion 
 of " home," which gives them a chance to vaunt its charms, 
 while they can shift it with the greatest ease. This happens 
 because many Europeans, and especially the French, do not 
 mean the same thing by the expression " home " or cJicz-soi. 
 The home of a Frenchman is the house in which he was born, 
 the paternal roof, the place where, whenever he revisits it, 
 childhood s memories are revived. The home of an American 
 is any spot where he may happen to find himself for the time 
 being, and of which he is the master. We attach to the word 
 the notion of a tradition, while to the American it has an idea 
 of independence. When they sing " Home, Sweet Home," 
 and that happens nearly every time they do sing their 
 thoughts do not turn to a picture of the complete family circle 
 gathered round the armchair of a respected grandmother, nor 
 to any of the poetic souvenirs that this revives with us. They 
 congratulate themselves on being seated on a rockingchair 
 where no other person has any right to be seated ; to warm 
 their feet at a fire whose coal has been bought by their own 
 labor, and to have such companions as they may choose seated 
 around them. It is sufficient to note the air with which they 
 sing this eternal refrain to have an idea of the significance they 
 attach to it. Poetry is absent ; at least in our poetic idea, it 
 is absent. For me, were I to try to truly interpret these words, 
 " Home, Sweet Home," I should translate them thus : " How 
 pleasant it is to be quit of other people." 
 
 The Scandinavian settler is animated by the same longing 
 for independence, and with a more powerful desire for material 
 stability, or, if you will, with less exalted ambitions. Thus, 
 whenever he gains his end, whenever he becomes master and 
 owner of a farm large enough to give him all he needs, he fixes 
 himself, builds a pretty and coquetish house, often painted 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. Ill 
 
 white from top to bottom, and very like a greatly-magnified 
 Nuremberg toy. At a first glance it is easily to distinguish 
 this homestead from that of an American, who lives in any 
 sort of house, a place in which the dollar-hunting animal takes 
 refuge at the end of a well-occupied day. His yard is enclosed 
 by ugly stakes roughly chipped, strewn with agricultural 
 machines, empty packing-boxes, rubbish of all kinds, and all 
 in the greatest confusion, without any attempt at order. About 
 that of the Scandinavian there is a certain feeling of elegance ; 
 the fence of squared wood, regularly built and bright with 
 fresh paint, encloses the kitchen-garden, the court-yard and the 
 farm-buildings. The interior of the house is simple, even a 
 little bare, but sparklingly clean and neat as a convent parlor. 
 Usually a flock of children brighten the dwelling. I saw nine 
 in one house, seven in another, a dozen in. a third ; and in 
 others only five or six, but they were not the end of the series. 
 These are excellent nurseries of young Americans! The 
 Scandinavians, from long custom, are more peasants than 
 traders, and so they specially seek out some good land without 
 troubling themselves as to the ease of communication. The 
 American never loses sight of the market, even when he be 
 comes farmer ; and more than that, he never grows anything 
 except for sale; whereas the Scandinavian, without living en 
 tirely on his produce, still does so to a large extent, especially 
 those who have only 160 acres and bring up a numerous family. 
 Many come to have larger properties. I remember one Dane, 
 who left Jutland in 1867, and first settled in Wisconsin, and 
 then, in 1871, took a homestead in Kansas. By 1885 he had 
 acquired a property of 615 acres, which he valued, together 
 with animals on the farm, at $12,000. A hundred head of cattle, 
 seventy-five pigs, seven work-horses, and five foals lived on the 
 farm, of which 210 acres were arable. When Janssen landed 
 at New York, twenty years before, all his capital was his two 
 arms, and he owed his passage money, which an emigration 
 company had advanced him. Others have something when 
 they arrive ; for instance, Janssen s father-in-law, who left 
 Schleswig Holstein with his four sons, that they might escape 
 military service, and who has prospered very well. 
 
112 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 III. THE RISKS OF THE ENTERPRISE. 
 
 After living a dozen years in the States, a settler usually has 
 either increased his homestead by buying up neighboring lands, 
 or abandoned it to his creditors. In Dakota I met several Ger. 
 mans from Prussia, Pomerania, Brandenburg, Mecklenburg and 
 Hanover, who cultivated 250, 500, 750 acres of land which be 
 longed to them. Now, Dakota, when I was there, had been 
 opened only nine years. I also remember hearing, on the cars 
 one day, a German Socialist holding forth in a forcible way 
 against the Yankee capitalists who, he maintained, ruined the 
 settlers by their usurious lendings. We were then near Red- 
 field, and still in Dakota, and the immense car with seventy-five 
 seats in which we traveled was a true debating-hall on wheels. 
 Our German friend felt it his duty to string off his theories 
 and support them by touching illustrations. He rehearsed the 
 sufferings of the immigrant, the difficulties during the first years, 
 the loans necessitated by his poverty, and the impossibility of 
 paying high interest when the harvest was bad or even middling. 
 The audience listened calmly, laughed now and again at some 
 joke hurled at the thin Yankees by this fat beer-drinker, and 
 seemed contented enough to hear its creditors abused, for, like 
 every audience composed of debtors, it was naturally an enemy 
 of capital. However, one big gentleman, with a reddish beard, 
 near whom I had taken a seat so as to hear better, did not ap 
 pear to be fully convinced. " There are as many bankers as 
 farmers ruined in Dakota," he said to me, "but the bankers 
 brought money with them ; the farmers came with nothing at 
 all, so that it is the bankers alone who have been the losers." 
 
 At the bottom, all these folks were right, and also those who 
 vaunted the advantages of Dakota. The truth is easily got at 
 and gives a coherence to the seemingly contradictory reports. 
 Both farmers and bankers run the same risks, and may be ruined 
 or may make a fortune ; that depends on their skill, their 
 perspicuity, their energy and their good luck. The great ease 
 of getting credit in the West promptly ruins the worthless immi 
 grant, while it helps him who has the qualities needed for suc 
 cess to rise very rapidly. The ease in which land may be had 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 113 
 
 acts in a similar way. It is as much fatal to the men born for 
 dependent positions as it is favorable to the others. In fact these 
 special conditions lead to an almost immediate selection of the 
 fit from the unfit. In a society where everyone finds at his 
 door the ladder to mount to fortune, it is soon evident who can 
 clamber up it, who remain on the ground, and who fall and hurt 
 themselves. It is most interesting to visit the homestead of 
 one of the braves who has got to the top or is firmly fixed on 
 his rung; but it is only necessary to open the Western news 
 papers to read the notices of sales under distraint, which drive 
 away others. These are not always rascals or persons incurably 
 improvident; but many of them are simply drawn, little by 
 little, into an expenditure not quite justifiable, and waken up 
 some fine morning with a big interest to pay and their bank 
 account exhausted. 
 
 An old and much-respected settler in Minnesota said 
 to me one day that nine times out of ten this came about 
 in the following way : The immigrant reaches his home 
 stead without a cent or with a few hundred dollars and a 
 couple of oxen. When he is going to begin his first harvest, 
 one of the commission agents calls on him and persuades him 
 that he must have a reaping-machine. He cannot pay for it at 
 that minute, but that matters little, he can have credit and 
 pay his debt of $200 in three yearly installments. The machine 
 is worth only $100, it is true, but it is better to pay $200 
 and get credit. In three years three harvests will have been 
 sold, and what are $60 or $80 lost on each of them? Trusting 
 to this reasoning the settler signs an agreement which gives 
 him a superb reaper. When he tries it with the oxen, the 
 machine does not work well. The commission-agent forgot to 
 tell him this detail, and so the farmer is obliged to go to the 
 horse-dealer to get a team. The dealer has just what he needs, 
 a pair of stout horses which he will sell him for $400, payment 
 to be made within three years. A new note is signed, a new 
 debt of $400 incurred, for two animals worth $200. They are 
 yoked to the reaper, which works, but not very well, and a 
 third horse is needed for good results. The settler returns to 
 the nearest dealer and buys a third horse at double its value. 
 In a short time he buys a mower, or a horse-rake, or a sower. 
 
114 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Then he gets completely submerged, and each time he appears 
 to be obeying an imperious necessity without being able to go 
 on otherwise. Add to these facts this, that his rudimentary 
 and scanty buildings do not protect the machines he has 
 bought at such a price, and it follows, in the course of a couple 
 of years, that the sun, the dust, and the snow, and the want of 
 attention, makes them unfit for use, so that they have to be re 
 placed before they are completely paid for. Then, he needed 
 money from the very first for building his house and for food ; 
 and as the land is often mortgaged in advance and the unfor 
 tunate settler is compelled to pay his taxes and his interest, he 
 finds his only safety in flight. He thus abandons his homestead 
 to his creditors, and begins again elsewhere with new expendi 
 tures. Taught by experience, he restricts his operations at 
 first, and buys no reaper, but hires one from his neighbor, and 
 waits till he has made a little money before he supplies himself 
 with machines and horses. 
 
 The most contradictory statements are heard and read about 
 the condition of the American farmers, one authority saying they 
 gather gold by the shovelful ; others saying they are dying of 
 hunger. That happens because different cases are studied, and 
 this explains everything. As in Europe, some farmers succeed 
 and others fail, the difference in America being that the former 
 make money more rapidly, and the latter immediately fall into 
 utter want. Another difference is that the ruin is reparable if 
 their incapacity is curable and not constitutional. In Europe 
 two neighboring farmers, owning small and equal-sized bits of 
 land, take a whole life-time, and often several generations, to 
 develop the one towards ease and the other towards its ruin. 
 In the West this movement is accelerated ; a man becomes rich 
 in ten years, or he is not worth anything. The^qualities which 
 raise and the defects which lower the social position of the 
 workers are the same. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AUXILIARIES OF CULTURE. THE SMALL TOWNS OF THE 
 
 WEST. 
 
 I. WHAT THE SMALL TOWNS SUPPLY TO THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY. 
 
 The West is essentially rural, but rural in the American way, 
 which is very different from the European one. As I have 
 already shown, the settler is not a peasant. He buys his food, 
 his flannel-shirt and his rockingchair ; he does not eat corn of 
 his own sowing, nor wear wool of his own growing, nor does 
 he occupy the long Winter evenings in making his chair of 
 straw or his rude bench. When building his house the colo 
 nist of the Mississippi Valley goes to the " lumber-yard " and 
 buys planks and joists that have been cut and shaped hun 
 dreds of miles away, for his land does not bear a single tree ; 
 whereas a peasant quarries the stones from the soil and fells 
 the oaks of his hedges. To get fuel, the former buys coal from 
 a distant mine and burns it in a stove cast in a Pennsylvania 
 foundry ; the latter piles upon the hearth the fagots he him 
 self has cut. For cultivation, the first employs machinery of 
 intricate construction ; the second makes most of his tools with 
 the help of the blacksmith, and he grudges the dollar he pays 
 the latter for replacing the teeth of an old harrow or for 
 mending an old plow. 
 
 There is plenty of rural commerce in the Far West, whereas in 
 Europe it is very limited ; in the one case it is the rule to buy, 
 in the other it is the exception. There is still another advan 
 tage on the American side : not only are the buyers numerous, 
 but they buy largely and they spend freely. These customers 
 are composed of two classes of colonists who are neither of 
 them disposed to save their money ; the first because they earn 
 it rapidly, are " doing well, " as they say in America, and deny 
 
I 1 6 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 themselves nothing; the second, because they are improvident 
 and allow tiemselves to be tempted by all they see. The im 
 migrant who has succeeded does not grudge a new buggy, a 
 pair of fine horses, or furniture for his drawing-room ; the one 
 who is obliged to quit his homestead leaves it on account of 
 his debts that is to say, because he has bought too much. 
 Both encourage trade, but perhaps the greatest profits are 
 realized from the second. The horse-dealer who sells for $400 
 a team which cost him less than half that sum, certainly 
 makes something out of the poor colonist. The one who pays 
 cash increases his floating capital, but the one who asks credit 
 enriches him. 
 
 There is a rush of trade to the small towns to supply this 
 demand, which, indeed creates them. A few stores spring up 
 close to the station, between the bank and the hotel ; a wide 
 road is marked out on the prairie, is dignified with the name 
 of Main Street, and the United States reckons one city more. 
 
 The traveller smiles at this ambitious appellation, when he 
 descends from the cars to stumble into the muddy road, and 
 he hurries over the very evident ruts to the nearest boarded 
 footpath. The idea of finding a milliner, a photographer or 
 a drapery store in such a wretched cross-road seems, at first, 
 strange, and he wonders what one can possibly sell in such a 
 place. I have often had this impression on arriving at small 
 Western villages, but I have always found trade brisk enough 
 to cause many sub-prefectures to envy it. 
 
 To begin with, we find the lumber-yard, or depot of build 
 ing-timber ; it is, in fact, one of the first supplies the cus 
 tomers demand. Even where stone abounds, most buildings 
 are of wood ; for it is cheaper and can be used more quickly 
 both great considerations for Americans in general, and for 
 Western colonists in particular. In Kansas I saw a number of 
 small towns situated at the base of some undulating ground, 
 containing excellent quarries ; yet almost all the houses were 
 built of fir planks brought from Illinois or Wisconsin. At 
 Florence, for example, one of these same small towns, only the 
 bank, the public school and the opera for there was an opera 
 in this market-town of a thousand inhabitants had stone 
 walls. It takes only a few days to raise a small wooden 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 1 17 
 
 house, and anyone possessing a little ingenuity and skill can 
 construct it almost entirely himself. In fact, the lumber 
 yard furnishes the material ready for use ; the beams and 
 joists are already squared and planed ; they have only to be 
 sawn the desired length. Even that can be done beforehand 
 and the pieces delivered ready for immediate use. Doors, 
 windows, roof-ornaments, balconies, bay-windows, staircases 
 are also sold. All these are manufactured in special work 
 shops, fitted with machinery driven by steam. In every town 
 of, say, 10,000 inhabitants, you are sure to find one of these 
 establishments under the name of saw-mills," sash and 
 door factories," etc. There planing, sawing, wood-cutting 
 and the making of mortises, are all done by steam. In his work 
 ing-day a workman can turn out hundreds of yards of mould 
 ings with the mechanical tool he employs. Others make 
 curious inlaid work, effective enough, but of doubtful solidity. 
 Thus helped by an industry which saves him as much work 
 as possible, the immigrant is able to erect a smart little dwell 
 ing with his own hands. It is a box taken to pieces ; he re 
 ceives all the different parts, fits them together, and is then 
 housed. Of course, it will not defy time, and perhaps some 
 tornado, some violent hurricane will carry this sort of improved 
 sentry-box a hundred yards away ; but the settler does not 
 always remain there, nor his house either. Before the planks 
 have had time to decay, it will have travelled through the 
 town in search of a more advantageous site, for in America 
 the houses are not fixtures. If the land occupied by one of 
 these dwellings booms effectively, the owner sells it to a bank, 
 or to the proprietor of a warehouse or hotel desirous of set 
 ting up in the middle of the town. He then raises his box on 
 wooden rollers, spans in his horses, and thus transports it to a 
 less favored quarter. One day, as I was walking in Florence 
 with a Frenchman, now living in a large and firmly-built man 
 sion, we passed in front of a small wooden frame-house of one 
 story. " Look," said he, " there is the first house that I owned 
 here. I changed its position twice, at first to place it on the 
 spot where the line of railway which we have just crossed now 
 passes ; afterwards to remove it when the company bought the 
 ground from me which they needed. Later, I lived in another 
 
Il8 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 house that I shifted once. It would cost more to remove the 
 one I am in now, but with these boxes, it is quite a pleasure ; 
 a trifle decides it one way or another." 
 
 The wooden houses not only offer the advantages of rapid 
 construction and easy transport, but they can also be enlarged, 
 altered and repaired at will, much more easily than stone 
 buildings. In this also they are in harmony with the Ameri 
 can character. 
 
 In the West one constantly hears the remark, "I am making 
 an addition to my house." Every man who thrives or whose 
 family increases reaches this point, the more so as he has gen 
 erally settled in a very rough fashion at first. In such a case, 
 he goes to the " lumber-yard," or to the " sash and door factory," 
 orders his materials, and, with the help of the first carpenter he 
 meets, nails a second wooden-box to one side of the first. The 
 dwelling often gains in picturesqueness by this annex, but that 
 is a matter of small moment to the American. If he obtain the 
 picturesque, it is simply because he has not sought symmetry 
 and regularity; because he has placed his addition where and 
 when it was convenient for him. His house, like his life, is full 
 of the unforeseen; its evolutions are similar, it changes from 
 place to place, grows with his fortune, and in a short half-hour 
 may be destroyed from top to bottom, But it rises again as 
 quickly. I remember taking a walk one morning in Fremont, 
 Nebraska, near some beer-vaults that had been burned the night 
 before. The building, though it had been completely charred, 
 was still standing, thanks to the upright wooden-beams which 
 the fire-engines had saved from total destruction. Upon this 
 blackened surface an enterprising tradesman had pasted long 
 strips of white canvas, displaying his name, address, and inflated 
 praises of the shoes he sold, which were, of course, " the best 
 shoes in the world." But his advertisement must have been 
 short-lived, for piles of new planks were already being stacked 
 where the fire had been, and a few days afterwards it was seen 
 no more. 
 
 After the lumber-yard, the most useful commercial estab 
 lishment is the grocery the true pantry of the American. In 
 the villages it is often combined with a draper s, a druggist s, 
 or a haberdasher s store, and then goes by the more compre 
 hensive name of " general-store." 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. I IQ 
 
 It is, indeed, universal, this curious shop, where one sells hats 
 and whiskey, canned preserves and flannel-shirts, chewing to 
 bacco and scarfs, rubbers and tea. Nevertheless, this odd 
 mixture produces no confusion, and from the order that reigns 
 everywhere, and the expeditive and intelligent manner in which 
 the Americans serve their customers, one could fancy they had 
 all been trained in the " Bon Marche " or the " Louvre." Doubt 
 less, they are wanting in the art of careful and elegant display, 
 which characterizes the Parisian tradesman ; but if they differ 
 from him in this particular, how much more do they differ from 
 the small shopkeeper of our provincial towns ? None of the 
 various methods of attracting customers is unknown to them ; 
 they give premiums for most purchases, they are contented 
 with a small profit on each article ; and where they have com 
 petition to fear, they will sell even at a loss rather than keep 
 their goods in stock, boldly following this course without fear 
 of bankruptcy, which, to them, se.ems an occasion for beginning 
 again under better conditions. 
 
 o 
 
 The same active spirit is shown in the arrangements made 
 for the payment of the goods : all goings and comings for 
 paywent or changing of money are avoided by means of an 
 ingenious machine, which places the cashier in direct communi 
 cation with each salesman. It is a nickel-box, placed within 
 reach of the vender s hand on a kind of small aerial-railway. 
 The customer hands over the money, which is put in the box, 
 along with a note of the sum due; a spring is pressed, and the 
 box speeds like an arrow on the miniature rails, which lead to 
 the cashier, who takes the money, puts the change into the box 
 and sends it back to the seller, who gives the customer his 
 change and his parcel. In this way each one remains in his 
 place, avoiding collision and loss of time, and lessening the 
 chances of error in the reckoning. I have seen this apparatus 
 in operation in the smallest villages. 
 
 The independent and enterprising character of the Ameri 
 cans is turned to good account by giving each salesman charge 
 of a special department, for which he is responsible. He even 
 gets a share of the profits on certain conditions, which leave 
 free scope to his trading faculty, and make him a kind of part 
 ner. For instance, he varies his gifts to the customers accord- 
 
I2O AMERICAN LIKE. 
 
 ing to what he deems most suitable, giving a toy to the mother 
 of a family who buys her household provisions, a ribbon to a 
 young girl, a pencil to the farmer who takes chewing tobacco, 
 etc. I am well aware that these practices are not unknown in 
 Europe. It is this decentralization which, in a large measure, 
 has made the great success of the large fancy-goods ware 
 houses in Paris, and perhaps the Americans have merely imi 
 tated it ; but I cannot help remarking that whilst in France, 
 in Paris even, the adoption of this principle is exceptional, in 
 the United States it is general. Moreover, American educa 
 tion favors it : in the Valley of the Mississippi it is easier to 
 find a young man able to conduct a branch of grocery than to 
 find a mere salesman. With us it is the contrary. 
 
 The character of the merchant, then, like that of his cus 
 tomers, contributes to trading activity in the small Western 
 towns. Another cause, equally favorable, is the absence of a 
 capital like Paris, exercising an attraction over the whole 
 country. A young girl of Puget-Theniers or Castelnaudary 
 delights to exhibit to her intimate friends a hat or a dress 
 direct from Paris ; and although not stamped with a well-known 
 name, and bearing their modest price on the ticket attached, 
 they have an indefinable quality in the eyes of the young pro 
 vincial which gives her the keenest delight. She thinks that 
 the Parisian women will be wearing just such dresses and such 
 hats, and she looks contemptuously at the garments of her 
 neighbor, made of thick stuff, which has been solidly sewed and 
 badly cut by the local dressmaker. There is nothing of the 
 kind here. A young lady of Nebraska or Iowa does not sigh 
 for a hat from New York, and why not ? Because the one sold 
 to her in Main street will be as ugly as if it came from New 
 York, but not more so ; if you doubt this, go to Havre any 
 Sunday, and see the American millionaires who come to make 
 the tour of Europe. It is owing to this widespread want of 
 taste that there are so few fashion journals in this country, 
 where journals, reviews and magazines abound. The people 
 clothe themselves rather than dress, except in certain large 
 towns, where the pretentiousness of the costumes indicates an 
 unfortunate leaning towards elegance. 
 
 Western life does not admit of this species of elegance. One 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. i2t 
 
 constantly meets ladies on horseback, with a basket over the 
 arm, coming to do their marketing in town. Others arrive in a 
 buggy, fasten it to the first post, and come back for it when 
 their business is done. 
 
 At their homes, cooking, cleaning or washing awaits their 
 return. What would be the good of an elegant dress for such 
 occupation ? 
 
 The dressmakers and milliners on the" spot do not then see 
 their customers snapped up by their rivals in the large towns; 
 everywhere there is a shop of this kind, and if there is a French 
 woman in the population, she is sure to be found in it. In the 
 same way, if a good dinner is to be had at a hotel, the chef is 
 almost certainly French. The fashions and the cooking are 
 still ours beyond the seas. 
 
 Other shops furnish hardware, tinware and agricultural im 
 plements ; and, finally, there is the indispensable, never-failing 
 livery-stable, where both good riding and driving horses may 
 be hired. 
 
 To understand how a village can support such an establish 
 ment we must remember that the American never walks. 
 Walking is only for tramps. The livery-stables profit enor 
 mously by this habit. Telephoning for buggies goes on all day 
 long, and in a small town of 1,200 inhabitants one can have 
 the choice of three or four livery-stables. 
 
 Of course, you must drive yourself; there is no coachman to 
 send; and, if you take a driver, you pay as much for the com 
 pany of this gentleman as for the use of the carriage and horses. 
 It is a man s time that is of most value in America. But you 
 will be trusted with a vigorous team that will run the whole 
 day if you please. Nearly all the horses one hires are very 
 tame ; and one feels they are accustomed to being well cared for ; 
 they would not stand the brutal treatment of our inn ostlers, 
 for their gentleness is not owing to old age or fatigue. Many a 
 time I have been astonished to find both saddle and carriage 
 horse in a Western village, which were incomparably superior 
 to those supplied by most French livery-stable keepers in our 
 large towns. I remember specially once riding a horse with 
 good paces, from Guthrie, Oklahoma, for three or four hours, 
 for the modest sum of a dollar. It was an excellent beast the 
 
122 AMERICAN 
 
 best in the town, its owner said ; which made me rather sus 
 picious, as everything above mediocrity is always " the best in 
 the world." Nevertheless, the good round trot of this hired 
 animal enabled me to keep up easily with a friend who pushed 
 forward at a quick gallop. Another time I amused myself 
 calculating the speed of a pair of horses drawing three of us in 
 a buggy. It was at Aberdeen, in South Dakota, on a day 
 when the rain rejoiced the hearts of the farmers and softened 
 the roads to a degree most disagreeable to travelers. On these 
 primitive roads, where turf alternates with ruts,we covered a mile 
 in five minutes without forcing the pace in the least; that is a 
 rate of about twelve miles an hour, which was kept up for about 
 twenty-five miles. On a level French road we should certainly 
 have attained a higher speed. I ought to say that my experi 
 ence of livery-stables has done much to give me a high opinion 
 of the kindness of the Americans to the animals they employ. 
 I knew that numerous protective societies took in hand the de 
 fence of the animals ; I knew that in certain States every need 
 less brutality was severely punished by law ; but the fact that 
 horses, continually driven by different hands, can at once pre 
 serve their vigor and their good character seems to me the 
 most convincing evidence in favor of the habits of the race. 
 
 The livery-stables are usually also boarding-stables ; that is 
 to say, horses are received there as boarders. Many young 
 people living in rooms, also many married men who live in 
 their own houses, send their horses to be cared for at the board 
 ing-stable, to avoid being their own ostler and having to wash 
 the carriage and clean the harness. A buggy costs scarcely 
 $200, a light horse from $60 to $100; whereas a man demands 
 $20 a month, though he be good for nothing. It is, therefore, 
 much easier to buy a horse and buggy than to keep a servant, 
 apart from the fact that those remain, whereas the servant 
 always goes off at the end of a few days or a few months. A 
 young fellow, engaged the greater part of the day in selling 
 groceries or hardware, takes his " girl " for a drive in his buggy 
 when he is at liberty. It is done with the most honorable in 
 tentions, and, to the Americans, is the most natural thing in the 
 world. On returning he drives the girl home, takes the vehicle 
 to the boarding-stable and sets to work again to earn the means 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 123 
 
 to marry the girl and buy a second horse. In the small towns 
 of the West, besides the merchants, there are the " real estate 
 men," or " land agents," who sell land; a notary public, to 
 authenticate the transactions ; a " record office, " for registra 
 tion of mortgages and the transference of property ; lawyers, 
 bankers, doctors, ministers of every possible religion ; churches, 
 schools, journals and hotels. All these are not always of the 
 best quality ; the doctors, for example, have often nothing 
 in common with their European colleagues, except the habit of 
 charging fees. They do not suffer from mental over-pressure 
 during their course of study, and their title of Doctor is easily 
 acquired. It is as easy to become a doctoress, according to the 
 following: An American ^Esculapius, living in one of the small 
 country towns in Iowa, had the misfortune to lose his wife 
 (that happens even to doctors). After a few months sacred 
 to grief, our hero cast his eyes upon a fair Swede, who cooked 
 his beefsteaks and fired his heart. But even in America it is 
 unusual to marry one s cook, and the amorous widower pined 
 till the idea of a stratagem occurred to him. Among the many 
 marvels of the great city of Chicago, it possesses a faculty 
 which can make a doctor or doctoress of the first comer in six 
 months. This was the very thing. Next day the young 
 Scandinavian started for Chicago, and six months afterwards 
 the marriage of Doctor I. with Doctoress A. was announced. 
 This healing couple now share the practice, and husband and 
 wife are said to be of equal merit. 
 
 In the schools nearly all the teachers are women ; where there 
 are many classes, one or two masters may be found on the 
 teaching-staff, but these masters are not teachers by profession. 
 One of them, whom I innocently asked if he had long experi 
 ence in teaching, simply replied : "Oh ! I have only been here 
 since the beginning of the year." "And what were you be 
 fore ? " "I was twelve years in business." " Then you did not 
 like it? " "Yes; but as I could not get what I wanted, I ap 
 plied for a post as schoolmaster, which was given me, and this 
 keeps me going while seeking something suitable. I think 
 next year I shall be a doctor." 
 
 As you advance further West the instability of professions 
 increases, and men get further and further away from all those 
 
124 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 which entail a certain dependence. In fact, easy-going people 
 do not go to new countries. This is noticeable even in hotels. 
 In New York the restaurant-waiters are white ; they look like 
 sham-waiters, and serve at table incidentally while waiting to 
 become President of the United States. At Philadelphia and 
 Baltimore, the waiters are all negroes. The head-waiter some 
 times is white, but all the rest are the glossiest black. It is 
 so in every large town right to the Rocky Mountains in St. 
 Louis, in Kansas City, and even in Denver. But when one has 
 penetrated into the very heart of the West, he has the ad 
 vantage of being served in the smaller towns by girls, who are 
 as slight as matches, and dressed like comedy waiting-maids. 
 They usually wear white, pink or pale-blue gowns ; and on en 
 tering the dining-room in the morning one is tempted to think- 
 that the landlord has prepared a surprise morning-dance. The 
 illusion is soon dispelled. The girls at once walk toward the 
 visitor, give him a seat, and then begin to rattle off the items 
 on the bill-of-fare, with a deplorable volubility. The bill-of-fare 
 is the absent menu-carte, or if you prefer the definition, the 
 spoken menu-carte. Nine times out of ten it is impossible to 
 understand anything of that rapid enumeration. One orders 
 bacon, or oatmeal, or some other standard dish, quite hap-haz- 
 ardly, and is surprised to see the girl bring a dozen different 
 plates. For a long time I travelled with a young Parisian who 
 spoke very little English, and whose usual reply to the recited 
 bill-of-fare was a discouraging sigh ; nevertheless, he always 
 had placed around him a crowd of small dishes, whose contents 
 gave him many a strange surprise. What I have just said, 
 about the girls looking like waitresses in a comedy, is true only 
 of their toilette, not of their manners nor bearing. None of 
 them have the bold air of our ordinary inn-waitresses nor the 
 provoking and wideawake look of many of our French work- 
 girls; but neither do they show any of that somewhat timid 
 modesty that marks an honest girl with us. They are of a 
 separate sex, which is neither embarrassed nor provoking, 
 neither graceful nor clumsey, which corresponds to nothing 
 known to us in France. Perhaps all of them are not virtuous, 
 but everyone has an air of honesty. " I have eaten my meals 
 here for many years," said a young non-commissioned officer 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 12$ 
 
 of dragoons, pxiled by his family in the Far West, " and I have 
 never yet spoken to any of them, except when ordering my 
 food. Funny garrison ! I have never seen anything like it!" 
 
 Certainly, we have never come across anything like this. The 
 girls are better educated and often of better upbringing than 
 the gentlemen to whom they detail the bill of fare ; and some 
 day or another they will get married and probably become 
 " ladies. " Like every other American profession, this is merely 
 a temporary one. One goes into it, and then leaves it. It is a 
 step on the ladder to which one clings for an instant in hopes 
 of being able to mount higher. 
 
 We have now examined how these small towns are mainly 
 useful to the farmers and ranchmen who live near them. They 
 are provision centres, where the settler, isolated on his home 
 stead, finds all the needs of life, material, intellectual and 
 moral, in the stores, the hotels, and the schools of various sects. 
 That is but one side of the question. In a proper account, 
 expenditure must face income ; the series of expendings must 
 be related to the series of earnings, which makes them possible. 
 Now we must examine the debtor side of the account. We 
 have learnt what these small towns do for the country ; we 
 must now study what this country gives in exchange to these 
 towns. 
 
 II. HOW WESTERN FARMS SUPPLY THE SMALL TOWNS. 
 
 Their produce is obviously all that they can give ; that is 
 to say, their cattle, milk, corn, etc. ; but all this is accumulated 
 and distributed through various channels by means of agents 
 and merchants. A farmer buying clothes, pays for them in 
 dollars and not in sacks of corn, cans of milk or droves of 
 pigs; he must, therefore, have sold his corn, milk, or pigs to 
 someone who has given dollars in return, and this operation, 
 which does not at all resemble a similar operation in Europe, 
 merits our attention. 
 
 When a farmer or countryman in France has threshed his 
 corn, he carries it up to his granary, finds out the market 
 prices, sells immediately if he is in want of money, but waits 
 for a rise if he is pretty well off. Sometimes he will even allow 
 
126 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 two harvests to accumulate, so as to have a big s^Ie, which in 
 creases his importance in his neighbor s eyes and gives him the 
 pleasure of seeing the hoard in the stocking increased by a 
 good round sum. 
 
 The American settler has no hoard in his stocking, nor has 
 he any graneries ; and he cannot, therefore, calculate like the 
 prudent Frenchman. He has something else to do than to 
 build graneries, and he would require gigantic ones to store a 
 good harvest. Let us take an ordinary homestead of 160 acres, 
 three-quarters sown with corn, and in supposing a yield of 
 thirty bushels to the acre which is not at all exaggerated 
 we have at once 3,600 bushels of corn. This cannot be stowed 
 away in a little garret, such as is usually found over an immi 
 grant s kitchen. What is he to do with it ? 
 
 In this perplexity he is willing to give a portion of his 3,600 
 bushels to anyone who will furnish him with the means of put 
 ting them under cover, and as many other settlers are in the 
 same position, graneries are built in the neighboring town, 
 where the wheat is stored at the rate of two cents a bushel for 
 thirty days. This accounts for the presence of the elevator. 
 
 Nothing is more convenient than an elevator for a farmer 
 who has wheat and who does not know where to put it. He 
 loads his wagon with wheat or maize without troubling to put 
 it into sacks. He simply casts it by shovelfuls into his great 
 rolling wooden-box, yolks one or two horses, according to the 
 weight, and sets out for the town. When he arrives at the 
 elevator he goes up an inclined plane until he reaches a huge 
 porch overlooking a part of the building, at about the height 
 of the first floor, and, opening a trap-door, tilts his cart and 
 takes it down the other side, empty, receiving from a clerk the 
 receipt, stating the nature and weight of the load. In going 
 to the bank with this receipt he can get an immediate advance 
 of a portion of the money it represents, or he can keep it by 
 him and only part with it to the merchant who buys his har 
 vest. In this case he has thirty days before him to wait for a 
 favorable market, and if he has not made up his mind by that 
 time, he is at liberty to leave his corn at the elevator at the 
 rate of a half cent per bushel for every further ten 
 days. The elevator is, in fact, a granary which the farmer is 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. I2/ 
 
 not required to build for himself ; but he contributes to its ex 
 pense in proportion to the use he makes of it. 
 
 The corn stored in the elevator is not for local consumption, 
 but for exportation exportation at least from the State where 
 it was grown. An ungainly pile of elevators is always catching 
 the eye alongside the railroad. As soon as the corn has fallen 
 through the trap-door into the lower story of the building, it 
 is raised to graneries at the top, by means of buckets fixed to 
 an endless belt, moved by a steam-engine. When it is neces 
 sary to reload for sending it off, a trap-door is opened and the 
 corn falls through a wooden chute into the wagon placed un 
 derneath. 
 
 A small town in the agricultural counties, if of any import 
 ance at all, has at least ten or a dozen elevators ; but the 
 smallest stations have always one, it being a necessary accom 
 paniment to a railway depot. In fact, elevator companies 
 have been formed to build them all along the track, or on a 
 chosen part of it, and many of them are very prosperous. 
 
 These companies, of course, are identified with the private 
 firms which I have already pointed out, and who build the 
 railroads. They are usually composed of two or three per 
 sons, although many attain considerable importance. You are 
 often told in the West, " So-and-so is an elevator-man ; " that 
 is to say, a man who has made his fortune in elevators. I 
 have seen beautiful houses at Chicago built by elevator-men. 
 They must be looked on as sacrifices offered to the god of 
 architecture to atone for the huge wooden barracks, as hideous 
 as they are practical, which have made their fortunes. 
 
 But the elevator-man is not content with storing the farm 
 er s corn ; he often buys it and begins to speculate. He could 
 make an honest profit and live peaceably by simply storing it, 
 but such a business, without risk or chance of fortune, would 
 hardly be American. 
 
 Sometimes, in small settlements through which a water 
 course runs, there are flour-mills which grind the corn of the 
 surrounding lands; but none of them have the quiet, harmo 
 nious appearance of the village flour-mill in France. In fact, 
 they are not part of a village, acting the role analogous to 
 that of the public-oven of the Middle Ages, and doing a trade 
 
128 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 with certain invariable customers; but they are manufac 
 turers of food for any market, near or far, at home or abroad. 
 I visited one of these mills in Kansas. It was of modest di 
 mensions and able to turn out a hundred 2OO-pound barrels in 
 twenty-four hours, but was working only during the day at 
 that time, and so producing but half that quantity. The pro 
 prietor kindly gave me details about his customers and prices. 
 " I sell my flour," he said, to neighboring bakers and settlers 
 at $1.90, 2.00, and up to $2.30 per one hundred, according to 
 quality ; but I also send a great deal into the Southern States, 
 such as Louisiana, Alabama and Texas. I do not generally 
 send the best qualities South, as the negroes prefer fine clothes 
 to fine bread. On the other hand, I have just executed an 
 important order for the best flour for Liverpool, and have 
 been greatly praised for it, as you may see from this letter," 
 and he held out a sheet of paper bearing the name of a large 
 English firm. " I also export," he added, " to Glasgow and 
 Antwerp. Every 100 pound costs me 75 cents for transport, 
 and I pay 10 per cent, customs duty in England. Under 
 these conditions our flour can compete in English markets, 
 but France has been practically closed to us sinc.e the new 
 tariff. As for bran, I could sell ten times as much as I make, 
 because it is used so much for fattening stock. I sell it on 
 the spot at $7 or $8 per ton. 
 
 I am no prophet, and am absolutely ignorant of what has 
 happened to this mill it may even be bankrupt, for aught I 
 know ; but if I were to hear three or four years after this that 
 it had tripled its importance, I should not be surprised. Every 
 body goes in for big ventures, and the resources of the country 
 tempt people that way. This is the reason one sees tiny pack 
 ing-houses in little villages of Nebraska, or even in Montana. 
 These bear the same proportions to the great establishments of 
 Armour and Swift that the village itself does to Chicago. But 
 these villages intend to develop ; their beginning is like that of 
 Chicago, Omaha and Kansas City, and their energy and confi 
 dence are not less ; it only remains to be seen whether circum 
 stances will favor them or not. Cattle, and, above all, wheat, 
 are the main things that cultivation supplies to commerce and 
 industry in the small centres of the Far West ; but in taking 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 1 29 
 
 account of everything we must notice certain industries which 
 are becoming of greater importance every year, viz., cheese 
 and butter manufactories. 
 
 We have already noted their existence on some of the large 
 farms in Dakota, where they were only a part of a big concern, 
 and not separate industries. In Nebraska and several Western 
 States, dairy farms have been started The size of the farms 
 has something to do with this, for the capitalist, who buys 
 three or four thousand acres of land usually can afford to start 
 a dairy, while an immigrant, encamped on his home, finds it dif 
 ficult enough to hire beasts to work his farm. 
 
 If each man s capital is too small to allow him to carry on 
 some work which the whole community is interested in having 
 done, then all the neighbors must band together and find some 
 one who can do it for all. At Fremont, Nebraska, I saw a 
 dairy that collects milk from 600 or 700 small farms in the 
 neighborhood, by carts which go in forty-seven different direc 
 tions. It was making 5,000 pounds of butter a day and seemed 
 very prosperous. The farmer gets twelve cents for the milk 
 used in a pound of butter, which is evidently the most rational 
 mode of payment. They use an ingenious method for deter 
 mining how much butter the milk contains. The carter weighs 
 the milk from each farm, then fills a graduated flask half full 
 of it before pouring it into the general receiver, where it is 
 mixed with the milk of other farms. These flasks are numbered, 
 collected, and placed in compartments of a box, which is 
 rapidly shaken by machinery. In a few minutes the butter 
 separates from the butter-milk in these flasks, and a glance at 
 the graduated scale tells exactly the proportion of butter in 
 each sample of milk. A clerk then looks over the slips handed 
 in by the carters, on which the names of the farms, the weight 
 of milk they have sent, and the number of the flask used for 
 testing the milk are written ; he then puts the proportion of 
 butter got from each sample of milk in a special column, and 
 from these data he can make up the accounts. 
 
 The milk is poured into immence tanks, where the cream 
 soon rises to the surface, all being kept at a constant tempera 
 ture by refrigerators in the Summer and heating apparatus in 
 the Winter. The cream is then put into mixers and churns 
 
130 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 turned by steam. The butter is made into regularly-shaped 
 cakes and is taken to large storehouses, covered with ice, when 
 it is ready to be sent off. 
 
 The dairy, like the flour-mill, is not for local needs alone. 
 The butter here is taken to the Rockies and on the Pacific 
 Slope, at Denver, Salt Lake City, Ogden or San Francisco ; and 
 when the supply is greater than the demands of these markets, 
 it is sold by commission in New York. 
 
 These dairies are of great use to the settlers, in getttng a 
 market for their produce, which otherwise they would not have; 
 and besides, they save the farmers wives some work that most 
 of them have neither the time nor the inclination to do. We 
 must remember that we are dealing with people with little 
 help, overburdened with work, and often, also, disdaining the 
 minute attention a dairy needs. I once read, somewhere, of 
 some American farms with numerous cattle grazing on excel 
 lent pasture, where condensed Swiss milk was served at table. 
 I never verified this, but it seems probable enough. It is one 
 thing to have a cow in the meadows ; quite another thing to 
 have milk in the cup. The Yankee economist of time thinks 
 twice before spending it in milking a cow merely for the pleas 
 ure of a draught of fresh milk ; but if it be to sell the milk to 
 some dairy, then he will milk as many as he possibly can ; 
 it is no longer a bother, but means business. 
 
 The dairy has another advantage, for not only does it turn 
 milk into butter, but it makes butter of any desired brand, so 
 satisfying the tastes of all its various customers, with a good 
 will beyond all praise. I was much surprised to see pots of 
 butter being prepared for sending off, with the name " Elgin " 
 stamped in relief, for Elgin is a little Illinois town near Chicago 
 which is famous for its butter an American Isigny. I thus 
 caught them in the very act of cheating, but did not dare to 
 ask the manager of the dairy about it. However, he volun 
 teered this explanation : " Elgin is the brand for which we 
 are oftenest asked, but it is not the only one ; for instance, we 
 put " Jersey " on butter going to Salt Lake City, because it is 
 thought more of there ; and we often send the same butter to the 
 same town, but under different names. Without this, two 
 storekeepers could not get their goods from us at the same 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 131 
 
 time, for they compete for customes, and how could either 
 maintain the claim that his butter was the best in the world/ 
 if his opponent sold some bearing the same mark?" Truly, 
 the consumer is a being condemned never to know what he is 
 consuming. 
 
 We now hold both ends of the chain. We know what these 
 little towns give and get. They are the centres of exchange 
 serving the country districts. 
 
 Their position is proportional to the importance of this 
 double operation. All progress in cultivating the lands around 
 brings about a corresponding advance in commerce and 
 industry, an increase in the value of the town lots. Every check 
 to rural prosperity affects that of the town. The development 
 of the country, like that of the town, cannot be steady in this 
 land, where all life is bustle, full of sudden shocks and unfore 
 seen events. A rain falling in one district or a disease breaking 
 out among pigs at another, is sufficient to give a strong im 
 petus to or to seriously retard the boom of a little Western 
 town. These vicissitudes are shown in a thousand different 
 ways. 
 
 III. THE VICISSITUDES OF A SMALL WESTERN TOWN. 
 
 The American tells whether a small town is flourishing or 
 not by three tests : electric-light, water-works and street-cars. 
 These form the three ends of his ambition, and you will never 
 make him confess that the city of his adoption is not one of 
 the wonders of the world, once these three services are effi 
 ciently organized. 
 
 The speculators booming a town always establish one of 
 these services. They often begin with the electric-light, because 
 that most vividly impresses the visitor. At Guthrie I saw the 
 sparkling globes throw their brilliant light on plank barracks, 
 built a year before; while sometimes in a quiet street they illu 
 minated the prairie flowers still growing in the natural turf. 
 Such contrasts please the Westerner, by telling how rapidly 
 transformations are taking place in regions till now untouched. 
 His principal effort is to give an air of prosperity to the town, 
 rather than to benefit any of its inhabitants who may happen 
 
132 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 to be out at night, as is easily seen at Guthrie. The town is 
 built on the side of a little hill, and is crossed by a series of 
 sloping streets. A huge wooden scaffold, narrow and high, is 
 built on the very top of the hill, at the end of the most im 
 portant street, and bears four or five electric lamps which are 
 carefully lit every evening. There is no need for them what 
 ever, but the settler, far away in his homestead, sees the bril 
 liant point across the immensity of the prairie, and becomes 
 confident of the future of Oklahoma. 
 
 Other towns, of older foundation when electric-lighting was 
 less developed, make up for it in their water-works and street 
 cars. I say nothing about the former, which are always use 
 ful to any population ; but I have sometimes seen street-cars 
 where the reason for their existence was difficult to under 
 stand. They had no passengers, except the conductor stand 
 ing on the platform, and wandered through the streets in 
 a melancholy way, to the quick jog-trot of an old horse. A 
 bell fixed to the neck of the peaceful animal awoke Alpine 
 souvenirs out of place in the Mississippi Valley, and I seri 
 ously tried to discover what could possibly be the reason of 
 this lonely tramway. A Frenchman whom I met one day 
 helped me out of the difficulty by giving me the key to the 
 mystery. " There are never more passengers than you see 
 to-day," he said ; " the enterprise does not pay of itself, but it 
 pays all the same, because it is part of another concern. It is 
 nothing but an advertisement, and this is its explanation : 
 Two or three speculators, who own a great number of lots in 
 the town, united to build this street-car line, which passes 
 right through the middle of their property and opens it up. 
 That enables them to sell it to anybody who comes to settle 
 here, as lots with twenty-five feet of frontage on a street-car 
 line, and also to get a higher price. The melancholy con 
 ductor who puzzles you, travels about every day only to 
 make certain that the ground he passes by will bring more 
 money." 
 
 The Americans excel in such combinations. A speculator 
 with money in his pockets or credit at the banker s, often 
 undertakes the draining of and even the building on the lands 
 he holds, in order to attract buyers and gain on each opera- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 133 
 
 tion. If no buyer appears, all his expenses are pure losses ; 
 but he prefers to run the risk of ruin than to stagnate in 
 mediocrity. 
 
 It is welll to take a dose of distrust as to electric-lighting, 
 water-works or street-cars, on entering a village. Sometimes 
 they represent a natural development; but often they are 
 nothing but baits, skilfully prepared by the dollar-fisher. 
 
 Every effort of the inhabitants has the same end to raise 
 the price of land. The rate per foot of frontage is the low- 
 water level from which the height of the boom is measured, 
 and this boom is the great run of luck that the American sees 
 in his dreams by night and works his hardest to bring about 
 by day. 
 
 This constant hope and vigorous confidence are supported 
 by numberless examples of sudden rises in the price of land 
 first inhabited but a night or two previously. How many 
 towns of ten to twenty thousand souls did not exist ten years 
 ago, and not to be found on any foreign map ! Hundreds 
 can be named. Note that I purposely exclude any which show 
 at once that they have been called to a glorious future- 
 such as Denver, Colorado which reach the figure of 150,000 
 inhabitants in one bound ! What I wish to study at present 
 is the modest boom of a village surrounded by fields, as it 
 changes into a little town. Even in such a limited sphere there 
 is enough to tempt a speculator, 
 
 I visited a number of such small centres in tl^e Far West, 
 from Oklahoma in the South to Red River Valley in the North, 
 going by Kansas, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, and 
 the two Dakotas. Here are a few figures that will fix the 
 reader s idea. 
 
 At Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory, within twelve months after 
 the opening of Oklahoma a lot of 50 feet frontage by a 140 
 feet was sold for $2,300. It was right in the centre of the 
 town, it is true ; but everybody will agree that the lucky owner 
 of this scrap of prairie made a very large profit. When Guthrie 
 was declared the Capital of the Territory, on the 22d of April, 
 1890, exactly a year after the opening, there was a hope that 
 it would soon be worth $100 per foot of frontage. 
 
 At Florence, a little Kansas town of 1,000 souls, a lot in 
 
134 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Main street, 25 by a 140 feet, was sold for $3,000 in 1887. I 
 know well enough that it faces the Opera-House ; but I am 
 just as well aware of what the Opera-House at Florence is for. 
 I visited it one day and it was closed ; indeed, it is usually 
 shut, except at rare intervals, when a travelling company comes 
 to play " Uncle Tom s Cabin." I may add that this sale is now 
 a legend of Florence, as its boom has been slacking for several 
 years. 
 
 The price of land rises still more rapidly in places like Aber 
 deen and Grand Forks, in Dakota ; Fremont, Nebraska, and 
 Moorhead, Minnesota, which have five to fifteen thousand 
 inhabitants. There prices of $100 and even of $200 per foot of 
 frontage are not rare, and raise the arable lands round about 
 them to $100 per acre. It is in these localities that the houses 
 move about most. Some change sites three or four times, 
 when their owner is lucky enough to be able to set them on 
 conveniently-situated lots, which rapidly rise in value and are 
 bought by bankers or merchants. 
 
 The other side of the picture is seen in the insecurity of 
 property in newly-peopled lands, and even more in the depres 
 sions that often follow after moments of great prosperity. The 
 story of Captain Couch and his tragic death at Oklahoma City 
 is a telling example of chaos that arises out of the uncertain 
 ties at the beginning of a settlement. Subsequent depressions 
 have another cause, and are revealed by two words which 
 always recur in the talk of a Westerner good and bad title- 
 deeds. 
 
 Good title-deeds are those delivered in right and proper form 
 by the first occupant of the claim, or by a railroad, and trans 
 mitted with due regularity from seller to buyer. There is 
 never any difficulty about such claims. 
 
 When there is possession only on good faith, bad title-deeds 
 usually originate. If the possessor is also the first occupant, 
 his case is not without remedy, for he can have his deeds made 
 right by giving the proof of his having lived on his claim the 
 necessary period and by depositing a small sum. But, if the 
 homestead on which he has settled has been previously claimed 
 by someone who afterwards abandoned it but who still holds 
 the true titles, it is absolutely necessary to get this correct 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 13$ 
 
 title from its holder before the occupier can be sure of the 
 property. But folks who forsake their claims do not usually 
 leave any address. The result is that many excellent lots are 
 unoccupied because nobody dares cultivate them, lest the man 
 who holds the good title-deeds turns up unexpectedly some 
 harvest-day. 
 
 Sales for unpaid taxes make bad titles common. Taxes are 
 usually paid at two terms, one in July and the other in Decem 
 ber. When anybody is in arrears the Receiver sends him 
 neither notice nor summons, but advertises, without warning, 
 at the County Court-House the land of the man who has not 
 paid his taxes. Every six months a long list of lots of land or 
 rural properties appear in the newspapers. At the day fixed 
 in the advertisement, each lot is cried separately, and the option 
 given to anyone to come forward and pay the taxes. Some 
 business men usually come forward, pays the money, and takes 
 possession of the lot. If the real owner wishes to get back his 
 land, he pays this man the amount of the tax, with interest 
 added, which makes it a paying little speculation for this agent. 
 But, if the owner cannot be found, the agent keeps the land, 
 which cost him half a years taxes, and tries to sell it to some 
 settler who has just arrived and who is not acquainted with 
 these good and bad titles. 
 
 To buy real estate in the West and to enjoy it peaceably it 
 is not only necessary to go before a notary public, who authen 
 ticates the deed of sale for $2.00, no matter what is the price 
 of the land, but it is also necessary to go to the Record-Office, 
 ascertain if the property bear any mortgages, and inquire into 
 the origins of the claims ; otherwise, there is every chance of a 
 thousand little unpleasantnesses. 
 
 Bad titles are very common in the small towns, because the 
 speculator seizes lots of land more readily than homesteads; 
 because the fluctuation of prices are greater and bring about 
 more disasters than in the country ; and because it becomes very 
 difficult to pay the heavy town taxes when a crisis arises. The 
 taxes in some small towns are as high as 3 per cent, of the real 
 estate revenue. Among those whom I questioned about this, one, 
 who owned a little house and garden, paid $12.00; another, 
 who had speculated in 117 lots, some of which were built on, 
 
136 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 paid $720. These are big figures, but it must be remembered 
 that the American pays no other taxes, that he has no indirect 
 taxation, no town-dues, no succession duties, no conscription. 
 
 The population of these little Western towns is a very mixed 
 one, both as to origin and worth. The reader perhaps remem 
 bers the Transylvanian cook, the Socialist architect, and the 
 other strange types we met at Guthrie. Such people are to be 
 found in every new centre that is formed ; and it is not always 
 discreet to ask them about their antecedents. These people 
 are of very little help to make a town prosperous. In this class, 
 too, may be put ruined and discouraged farmers, who have left 
 their land and taken haphazardly to some trade ; the dishonest 
 agents, who come to cheat the public ; in fact, all that scum 
 which comes on the first wave of immigration. 
 
 Opposite such types we must place the modest, full-bellied 
 hotelkeeper, usually from the banks of the Rhine, who brings 
 up a dozen children and gathers a small fortune by sheltering 
 travellers ; the active and intelligent business-man, who starts 
 a provision-store and runs it like those in the large cities ; the 
 man who builds a flour-mill or forms a dairy ; the prudent and 
 pushing speculator, who gives the boom a useful help ; the 
 banker, who supports him, etc. 
 
 These are the living forces in these small towns ; but they 
 must have a lesson before they can become effective. Some 
 man amongst all these must show himself capable of guiding 
 the onward movement, or, at least, of interesting some powerful 
 railway king in the future prosperity of the city ; one who is 
 master of the lines and the tariffs, who can turn the place into 
 an important centre by making some tracks meet in it, or sacri 
 fice it to some successful rival. If such a leader be lacking, 
 the boom is never great nor long. 
 
 In a word, these towns have all they need for their develop 
 ment within themselves. It would have been better to have 
 called them "young" instead of " small," because they are 
 capable of growing very large. Circumstances will permit this 
 development, but the man, to use these circumstances, must be 
 found, else expansion ceases. Many villages, excellently sit 
 uated for growing into a great cities, never get beyond the state 
 of small towns, because he is lacking. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE OUTLETS FOR FARM PRODUCE. THE GREAT CITIES 
 
 OF THE WEST. 
 
 I. THEIR AGRICULTURAL CHARACTER. 
 
 We already know something about a few of the great West 
 ern cities, for we have followed the cattle bred and fattened on 
 the ranches to the centres where they are killed, cut up, and 
 prepared for export. Chicago, Kansas City and Omaha, more 
 than any other cities, are the accumulators and distributors of 
 meat ; they are meat-cities in the same sense that Lyons is the 
 city of silks. 
 
 Just as the creation of the ranches lead to the foundation of 
 Chicago and its rivals, so the creation of the farms brings about 
 the rise of other towns, whither the grain is concentrated before 
 being sent off on a long journey. St. Louis, St. Paul and Min 
 neapolis may justly be called grain-cities, the vast emporiums 
 in which the wheat and the maize are collected, and then re 
 distributed by the trade on all the markets of the world. 
 
 Of course, that qualification of grain-city does not exclude 
 the cattle-trade, which is especially important in St. Louis. 
 Chicago, also, does not confine itself to the provision-trade of 
 the packing-houses, but contains immense elevators which can 
 store 14,000,000 bushels of corn at one time ; but, nevertheless, 
 Chicago reigns as undisputed queen of dressed-beef and salt- 
 pork, while Minneapolis is the chief milling centre. 
 
 Notwithstanding their various specialties, these cities have a 
 well-marked characteristic in common ; they are the outlets for 
 agricultural produce, and consequently depend upon it. If, by 
 any chance, ranches disappeared from the surface of the States; 
 if the buffalo browsed once more, as in Indian times, on the 
 farms which we have inspected, Chicago and Minneapolis 
 
138 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 would become abandoned villages, and in fifty years there 
 would not remain a trace of the ruins of the hastily-built erec 
 tions that now form there a sign of a flourishing past. I have 
 not made this hypothesis because I believe it possible, for the 
 future of America has better guarantees than the stability of 
 its buildings ; but I wished to point out that the history of 
 these great cities is closely bound up with that of the country, 
 and the sequel will show this very clearly. 
 
 On arriving at St. Louis from the East one is at once struck 
 by its agricultural character ; for it is the first city of this 
 nature that is reached by one coming from the Atlantic coast. 
 New York is a city of ocean commerce, Philadelphia is a man 
 ufacturing city, and Pittsburgh and even Cincinnati, the 
 ancient Porcopolis, have become great industrial centres. But 
 St. Louis is an agricultural market. One sees this from the 
 moment he alights at the station, by the numerous agricultural 
 implements, wagons and machines that are piled on the plat 
 form. In the streets near the river one meets cattle in bands 
 of ten, twenty or thirty, going to or coming from the market ; 
 and also droves of mules, for which St. Louis is noted ; and 
 when one asks what are the sights of the city, he is shown the 
 Cotton-Exchange and the Merchant s Exchange. St. Louis is 
 an old-established centre for Southern cotton, and still very 
 important to-day. The wool and fur trades have been carried 
 on in the Cotton Exchange for some years, but in spite of this 
 the Merchant s is much the more important of the two 
 Exchanges. 
 
 The Merchant s Exchange is entirely a corn-exchange. It 
 is a large hall about 222 feet long by 65 feet broad and some 60 
 feet high, forming part of the Chamber of Commerce Build 
 ings. There is no lack of decorations, but an utter lack of 
 taste, while the appearance of its frequenters is in strange con 
 trast to the pretensiousnes of its architecture. The St. Louis 
 citizens who are grain or flour merchants meet here every day, 
 and jostle and greet each other with those short phrases, the 
 secret of which the American possesses. At one end of the 
 hall is a sort of ring, round which the excitement is wildest, 
 the gestures, the cries, the yellings of the speculators making 
 one imagine it to be a gathering of furious madmen ; while close 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 at hand ordinary business has less epileptic attractions. 
 Numerous samples of maize, wheat, oats and barley are ar 
 ranged on the long wooden counters, while bran and flour are 
 in another part of the hall. Chewing their quids and squirting 
 out vile jets of blackened saliva into the spittoons which ob 
 struct the floor or, if there are none, onto the floor itself, the 
 members oi the Exchange examine the samples, feel the grains 
 with their practised fingers, rapidly write a few lines in their 
 note-books, and send off telegrams at every moment. For this 
 telegraph clerks are placed almost all round the sides of the 
 hall, and the noise of their many instruments is loud enough 
 to be noticeable amidst the general hubbub. From time to 
 time some one goes to one of the little table-desks, placed in 
 one part of the hall, to write a business letter or to engage in 
 private conversation. These tables, like all American tables, 
 have a double use : one alternately puts his hands on them 
 while writing, and his feet on them while resting. The sight 
 of these worthy people seated with their legs as high as their 
 neighbor s shoulders, chewing, spitting, writing, telegraphing 
 and shouting, gives one a much higher idea of their activity 
 than of their good manners. 
 
 But we are not dealing with the question of good manners 
 at present; and when the first disagreeable impression is got 
 over, it is time to inquire what has brought so vast and varied 
 a trade in grains to this particular spot. A St. Louis miller 
 explained the matter to me, " Since the settling of Missouri, 
 Kansas and other States to the West of St. Louis," he said, 
 "we have always had a large grain-market here ; and even be 
 fore the days of railroads, St. Louis had all the Southern 
 trade by the Mississippi and all the Northwestern trade by 
 the Missouri. 
 
 During the Civil War the Northerners did everything in 
 their power to turn away all this exchange business from us, 
 by building railroads in the Northwest, and in giving their 
 capital to help the foundation of Chicago. That was a great 
 misfortune for us. As long as the War lasted, St. Louis was 
 the natural emporium of the Southern armies, and prospered ; 
 but after the declaration of peace a crisis came which lasted 
 more than ten years and whose effects we still feel. In other 
 
140 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 words, the War kept back the progress of St. Louis twenty 
 years. To-day, owing to the natural advantages of our side, 
 we are recovering more and more. The river traffic always 
 concentrates the grain from two immense fertile valleys at St. 
 Louis ; the city is close to the rich alluvial land, formed by 
 the muddy deposits from the river, known in the States as 
 " American Bottom ; " and, lastly, the States which are our 
 natural customers, are almost the only ones which grow winter- 
 wheat. Wisconsin and Michigan reap a little of it in the 
 North, but none of the other States do this, because the severity 
 of the climate prevents it. Hence the market for winter- 
 wheat is necessary at St. Louis. 
 
 The great stir that reigns on the quays about the Mississippi 
 is also caused by products of the farms ; and there are found 
 the fur and grain warehouses, piles of cotton-bales and im 
 mense elevators which make those of little towns seem toys. 
 There the negroes predominate. They carry heavy weights 
 on their shoulders, unload the boats, and in general do all 
 work that demands physical rather than intellectual effort. 
 The temporary nature of the work specially suits them. When 
 they need money, they come down to the quays, seek for some 
 ship that needs loading or unloading, make $2 or $3, and then 
 go to the neighboring saloons and get drunk. All along the 
 quays are a large number of cabins, with low doors, blackened 
 ceilings, wooden tables and big stools, which recall the inte 
 riors of taverns painted by Teniers. In casting a glance 
 through the door, always open to let in air and customers, the 
 negroes can be seen drinking, eating, singing, laughing, playing 
 at cards, their big and somewhat brutal faces lit up with afresh 
 gaiety and an absence of all sort of preoccupation. If 
 these lively faces be compared with the careworn ones of the 
 Americans coming out of the Merchants Exchange, it would 
 seem as if the negroes got more enjoyment out of life than 
 any other class in the States. I once saw one tilted on a stool, 
 with his back against the wall, playing the banjo and singing 
 some song ; and I stopped to look at him for some time, so 
 much had his tranquil contentment fascinated me. I saw others 
 sitting or lying in a crowd on the floor, or grouped in a dark 
 corner smoking, joking, tripping each other, and appearing to 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 141 
 
 be amusing themselves like school-boys out of school. That 
 is the gay quarter of St. Louis, where only a few merchants, 
 brokers or clerks burst on the scene and rapidly cross the quay 
 to count their bales of cotton, to examine their wheat or their 
 maize. 
 
 The negro element is not nearly so important in St. Paul 
 and Minneapolis. They are from the farther South and the 
 old Slave States, and are free from all association with the 
 past. The Northwest is their tributary Minnesota, the two 
 Dakotas, Montana, all States that are still young and so 
 their history is much shorter than that of St. Louis. In 1850 
 St. Paul was quite a small town, and Minneapolis did not 
 exist. To-day each of them has about 200,000 inhabitants . 
 Already, however, a new rival has arisen at the extreme West 
 of Lake Superior, to claim part of this great agricultural mar 
 ket Duluth ; or, as it is called, the Hercules of the North 
 west. 
 
 In these newly-opened regions, the great market-centres 
 are not definitely fixed ; this or that becomes important ac 
 cording to the district that is being settled, while another 
 place may supplant it when all the country is cultivated. 
 Thus St. Paul and Minneapolis owe their rapid rise to the 
 action of the Civil War in helping the development of the 
 Northwest. Along with Chicago, they inherited the high 
 position which St. Louis had previously obtained and partly 
 lost at that time. The war helped to develop, all at once, the 
 two towns, which would have grown in any case, because 
 of their great natural advantages, for they lie at the Northern 
 extremity of the Mississippi, between Lake Superior and the 
 Red River Valley, and so, like St. Louis, are the meeting-place 
 of innumerable commercial routes. When the blockade of 
 1861 cut off all communication with the South, St. Paul was 
 500 miles from any railroad. " We received everything by the 
 Mississippi," said a St. Paul merchant to me, " and only in the 
 Summer. In Winter, snow and ice shut us in and stopped all 
 traffic. We were a dependent of St. Louis, and lived only six 
 months in the year." St. Paul would have disappeared after 
 this if the tracks had not been laid, which joined it to Chi 
 cago and the East, when the Civil War was fiercest. The iron 
 
142 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 road did more than this; it brought settlers, and St. Paul be 
 came an agricultural mart, instead of remaining a provision 
 station for a few fur-traders. Then Minneapolis, Queen of 
 Milling, brought forth and flourished at an astonishing rate, 
 near St. Anthony s Falls. The excellent waterfalls formed a 
 powerful motor-force, and led to the starting of a few flour- 
 mills in the place where there are so many gigantic ones to 
 day. Minnesota and Dakota began to be cultivated at this 
 time, and soon their fertile lands were yielding abundant har 
 vests, which were sent to towns whose populations still further 
 increased by this new event. For several years in succession 
 the population of St. Paul and Minneapolis was doubled each 
 year ; the price of land and the material prosperity of the 
 two cities naturally rose with their commercial importance. It 
 was a great boom. There is no need to describe this boom, 
 which was much the same as that of a Western city already 
 detailed. 
 
 Some special points about the Northwestern grain trade are 
 worthy of note, especially in connection with Minneapolis, and 
 to study them we shall go to Pillsbury s Mills, the most famous 
 in the United States. 
 
 II. THE GRAIN AND FLOUR TRADES. 
 
 Just as the visitor must inspect Armour s packing-houses at 
 Chicago, so must he see Pillsbury s flour-mills at Minneapolis. 
 They are the greatest sights of the town, and we shall see that 
 they practically make the town. 
 
 The mills have grown into several separate establishments, 
 owing to the great importance they have acquired. I visited 
 one, an immense seven-story building, where the waterpower 
 used is 1,400 horse-power. This waterfall drives all the grind- 
 ing-mills and the numerous machines for separating the different 
 qualities of grain as well as its various products, and also sup 
 plies the force which drives the wagons, filled with wheat, to 
 the mill, and draws them back again full of bran and flour. 
 The line of rails used for this has an endless belt, constantly 
 running above it and hauling trains of wagons. The flour is 
 packed into wagons as it is ground ; more than two are emptied 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 143. 
 
 every hour. The mills go night and day, and 325 men are re 
 quired for the work ; some superintend the machines, others 
 roll wooden-barrels holding about three bushels, in which the 
 flour is sent East, along the iron rails ; others weigh the large 
 28o-pound barrels, in which it is shipped to London, or the 
 smaller ones of 196 pounds, for local consumption. These ways 
 of packing are enough to tell how widely spread and varied 
 customers are. 
 
 There are seven different qualities of flour, but they are almost 
 exclusively made from Spring hard-wheat, the same that I saw 
 in the farms of Minnesota and the two Dakotas. Spring-wheat 
 is centralized at Minneapolis, as is winter-wheat at St. Louis. 
 Pillsbury alone makes 2, 660 tons of flour per day in his various 
 mills. 
 
 One can imagine what capabilities are needed for the man 
 agement of such a business. In the first place, it is necessary 
 to know every little improvement in flour-making machinery 
 and to add it at once; to choose a staff of efficient workmen, 
 and keep the same set of workmen as long as possible, which is 
 always difficult in America. This is the industrial side. In 
 the second place, it is necessary to buy wheat as cheaply as pos 
 sible, and sell the flour and bran made every day. This is the 
 commercial side. But the grain-trade is affected by many and 
 widespread influences: the Russian harvest, the price of wheat 
 at Batavia ; the customs-dues of France or Germany, are as im 
 portant factors to be considered as the wetness or dryness of 
 the Spring in Dakota. It is absolutely necessary to know the 
 agricultural situation in every quarter of the Globe, to know 
 how to decide about buying and selling. It is evident that the 
 least error means a heavy loss when so large quantities are 
 dealt with, and that the least profit on every bushel is multiplied 
 into a great gain. And, lastly, think of the strains constantly 
 produced by the rising and falling of prices, and you will un 
 derstand that the man who makes such a business flourish has 
 a marvelously-organized head. Americans have boundless ad 
 miration for such remarkable powers, and show it on every oc 
 casion. A St. Paul friend of mine, speaking of Mr. Charles 
 Pillsbury, said: " He is a splendid man." Note the strange 
 expression ; you will find it the right one. 
 
144 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 During my stay at Minneapolis, in the Spring of 1890, Mr. 
 Pillsbury bought 5,000,000 bushels of wheat in one week. That 
 represents a sum of $3,750,000, which was paid on the spot. 
 Wheat was then worth 75 cents per bushel, and it was expected 
 to rise to $1.00, for which reason the Pillsburys bought such a 
 large supply. 
 
 I cite this to show how great speculations and monopolies 
 are natural fruits of the grain-trade. When the prices are low, 
 the great slaughter-houses of Chicago or Kansas City cannot 
 store up huge herds of cattle to kill, and sell them when prices 
 rise again ; but they are closely bound to all the fluctuations 
 of the market, and are inevitably affected by them. There was 
 at one time a rumor that a " trust " had been formed by four 
 or five important houses, such as Armour, Swift and Ham 
 mond, to control the cattle market ; but this tentative is an 
 indication in itself of the inability of any of these firms to do 
 this alone, despite their enormous capital. After all, the action 
 of the syndicate has hardly been felt. It may be able to check 
 a sudden rise, but it cannot influence the trade movement in 
 the way the grain monopolists are able to do. 
 
 The big Minneapolis millers are not the only people drawn 
 into speculation, but the elevator companies have their share 
 in it, as is easily discovered at Chicago, or even at New York, 
 where there often are many bold strokes on the Corn Exchange. 
 Many remedies have been sought to check these sudden changes 
 in prices, but they have always failed. 
 
 " The Farmers Alliance," a powerful association, born some 
 time ago in Minnesota, has formulated the latest plan and 
 brought forward a Bill of unadulterated socialism, which makes 
 the Government buy all the grain in the United States, so as 
 to keep the price at a constant level. The only reply to this 
 was the smart proposal of a representative, who suggested that 
 the State should act as wet-nurse to all young Americans. 
 Such Utopias are too much opposed to the ingrained social 
 habit of each man looking after himself to merit serious con 
 sideration. 
 
 Before leaving the Pillsbury Mills I wish to say a word about 
 their internal management in its relation to the works. Mr. 
 Charles Pillsbury is not only a remarkable merchant, but an 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 145 
 
 excellent employer. He is always trying to raise the men he 
 employs, and is often successful, as witness the hundred millers 
 trained by him who have started for themselves and now are 
 the owners of large mills. This desire to elevate his workmen 
 is seen in his ingenious plan of increasing the wages of the best 
 of them by giving them a share in the profits. In September, 
 1882, a certain number of the workers in the Pillsbury Mills re 
 ceived a personal letter in the following terms : 
 
 DEAR SIR: We have decided to give this year, as an experiment, 
 to some of the leading men in our different mills, a portion of the net 
 profits of the mill, after we have credited ourselves with the interest on 
 the capital invested. 
 
 We do this in the hope that every one of the men having a share in 
 this division will do his utmost in every possible way to effect a saving in 
 the business, and that those who are not included this year, will also be 
 stimulated to do good work, because if the experiment is a success we 
 shall be inclined to increase the number hereafter. We believe also, 
 that while we shall be doing considerably better by our men, we shall 
 lose little or nothing ourselves. None of you have any idea how much 
 can be saved in running a flour-mill if each man will do his best 
 towards saving. The scheme is an experiment for this one year. Its 
 continuance will depend upon whether we think it will pay us this year. 
 We trust that every man included in this number will feel it his special 
 duty to see that every other man does his work well; and, in fact, to 
 see that everything is done in the best possible manner and with the 
 least possible expense. 
 
 This apportionment will be made only to the men who stay with us 
 during the year, and is subject to the provision that every man included 
 in the arrangement shall perform his work and conduct himself in a 
 manner entirely satisfactory to us. 
 
 We prefer that this matter be kept quiet. 
 
 Hoping to receive your hearty co-operation in the plan, we remain, 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 CHARLES A. PILLSBURY & CO. 
 
 There were about 500 men in Pillsbury s Mills at that time, 
 of whom 100 shared in this division. The following year, 1883, 
 each of these received a check for $400, on the average a 
 magnificent bonus added to their regular wages. The firm 
 
146 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 found that the arrangement paid ; they declared that the 
 experiment had been satisfactory, and established the system 
 on a permanent basis. In 1884 an d 1885 the departure was 
 again successful, and the workers received the same profit. In 
 1886, there were no returns in the Pillsbury Mills, and the 
 following letter announced this to the participants : 
 
 We regret to inform you that we will be unable to make divisions of 
 profits to any of our employees for the past business year. The simple 
 reason is that we have no profits to divide. We have failed to receive 
 any returns for the capital invested, or for our hard work and anxiety. 
 
 We are somewhat recompensed, however, in the reflexion that most 
 of our men have had steady work, and that we have been able to pay 
 you your wages promptly and without any reductions, thereby ena 
 bling you not only to provide well for yourself and family, but to lay by 
 something against a rainy day. 
 
 Now, what of the future ? We hope, with the aid of the strong arms 
 and enlightened brain of our fellow-workmen, to not only receive a fair 
 recompense for our own work and capital, but to have something left 
 over to divide among our men, and we hope to make that division 
 more general than ever before. In order to do this we are justified in 
 asking of you to increase your efforts in our behalf, if possible; that 
 you, in addition to doing honest work yourself, will insist upon its 
 being done by others who, perhaps, have not as honest intentions as 
 yourself. Especially do we ask of you to see that the strictest econ 
 omy is practised in every direction, and that nothing is allowed to be 
 wasted or misappropriated. We ask of you, also, to take no chances of 
 accidents of any kind ; that you immediately notify the proper parties 
 of anything needing repairs, or of any dangerous place or machinery 
 which can be improved. We ask no one to take any chances of loss of 
 life or limb, beyond what are absolutely inseparable from the nature of 
 our business and machinery. Any suggestions from any of our men 
 as to additional precautions against accidents will be thankfully 
 received and fully appreciated by any member of our firm. We also 
 ask you to especially take every possible precaution against fire. It is 
 the enemy most to be feared by both you and ourselves. In these 
 dull times of milling, a fire would permanently deprive you of a job 
 with us, and also entail a great loss on ourselves. Let us ask you to 
 be on the constant lookout for any possible danger from this source. 
 Suggestions in this direction will be greatly appreciated by us. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 147 
 
 We are very proud of the fact that we have never yet made a reduc 
 tion in wages. We cannot now afford to pay you the wages we could 
 a few years since. Cannot you, with your increased experience 
 and with additional diligence to our interests, make your services 
 more valuable to us than ever before, and thus restore the equilibrium ? 
 If at any time you feel injustice has been done you, do not be afraid to 
 come to our office and state your complaints. Co-operate profit-shar 
 ing is on trial at our mills. Many all over the world are watching the 
 results. Fellow-workmen, try and realize how much depends on your 
 integrity and faithfulness. With the co-operation of every one of the 
 employees, we hope for better results than ever before attained in our 
 business ; without it, we see nothing promising for you or ourselves. 
 
 This communication was received by the workmen without 
 complaint ; they recognized the accent of sincerity, and helped 
 Mr. Pillsbury to pass over the crisis ; they had confidence in 
 him. Since then prosperity has returned and the number of 
 participants greatly increased. Mr. Pillsbury asserts that be 
 sides being of great advantage to the workmen, his system is 
 profitable to his own interests, and he praises himself highly for 
 having made the experiment. However, he has not entered 
 into any definite engagement with his staff, and still continues 
 the arrangement that has been so successful with him as an 
 experiment. 
 
 I have, perhaps, written at too great length of this particu 
 lar organization, but at a time when certain economic schools 
 preach co-operation or profit-sharing as remedies for every sort 
 of evil, I wished to show how this is carried out in practice in 
 a great American industry. The division does not give the 
 workman any part in the commercial management of the busi 
 ness ; the employer remains master of his purchases, of his 
 sales and of his management, and gives account to nobody. 
 His associates do not even know in what measure nor on what 
 basis they are admitted to a share of the profits. In a word, it 
 is a gratuity, an uncertain wage for them, and not a definite 
 right. Further, every workman does not share in it, but only 
 those chosen by the master those whom he thinks able to 
 support him. The difference between this and a system of 
 general profit-sharing is easily seen, and it is also clear that the 
 authority of the employer is not interfered with. 
 
148 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 In Minneapolis there are other noted examples of co-opera 
 tion well known in the United States, but in much simpler in 
 dustries, the best known being that of the coopers. 
 As I have just mentioned, a large part of the flour 
 is sent off in three-bushel barrels. The enormous consumption 
 of such barrels by the Minnesota mills has naturally led to the 
 starting of numerous cooperages. The employers used to buy 
 the staves ready made in Wisconsin, and paid the workers by 
 the piece for making the barrels. One day, some of these men 
 proposed to combine, to gather orders, to bring the staves and 
 sell their barrel, keeping all their profits to themselves. This 
 was done, and after a certain number of checks, due to their 
 inexperience, they formed the co-operative coopers workshops 
 which are so prosperous today. There the oversight of skilled 
 employer is not needed. The prices of barrel-staves do not 
 vary like those of grain, and barrels are made with the aid of a 
 few very primitive tools. There is thus no complication in 
 buying first materials ; no need to keep up to date about 
 methods, and then the methods are always simple. First-class 
 workmen can direct such an affair, provided an outlet can be 
 found for the goods made, and this is guaranteed by the suc 
 cess of the milling. Their undertaking, too, has been helped 
 in every way by Mr. Charles Pillsbury, who has always given 
 them the custom of his extensive house. 
 
 The name of Pillsbury comes from my pen every minute, and 
 it really does hold an important place in the history of Minne 
 apolis. We shall once more come across one of those remark 
 able men, whose managing powers, aided by that prodigious 
 American activity, guide the progressive movement which bears 
 the United States toward its high destiny. It is well to show 
 that such men are not indifferent to their workmen s lot ; that 
 they do not let themselves be entirely absorbed by a narrow 
 anxiety for their own interests ; but that, on the contrary, they 
 have a very strong desire to raise to higher levels those whom 
 they employ. The duties of an employer, such as they under 
 stand them, consist, above all, in improving the workmen and 
 in making them more efficient assuredly a very high concep 
 tion. Nor does this necessarily involve a contempt for the 
 unfit and the abandoning of those hardened in their incom- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 149 
 
 pentency. A proof of this is Pillsbury Hall, which stands 
 alongside the Pillsbury Mills, and is a purely charitable institu 
 tion, due to the generosity of its founder. The lot of those 
 who cannot or will not be bettered is thus at least made en 
 durable. 
 
 If all industrial chiefs were like Mr. Pillsbury, it is certain we 
 should hear less -about American strikes; but it is quite possi 
 ble, without going out of the milling-trade, to find employers 
 very little inclined to bother themselves about their workmen. 
 No doubt these are not the best known, nor the richest, nor 
 those who succeed best; but they form the majority. In a 
 country where nobody follows a trade by tradition ; where a 
 business is quitted the moment it will not pay, there are few 
 men inclined to make sacrifices to help their workmen at a time 
 of crisis. The workshops are usually closed the minute the 
 work is not profitable, and the men who were living by this 
 work the previous day are set loose on the streets. The price 
 of labor thus follows every fluctuation of supply and demand, 
 and a crisis arises every time master and men differ about 
 changing wages. 
 
 One day I heard a big St. Louis miller a very charitable and 
 very estimable man, full of good intentions complain of the 
 state of affairs. I profited by this to ask him some details as 
 to the way in which his workmen lived. He at once frankly 
 confessed that he knew absolutely nothing about it ; that the 
 cares of business took up most of his time, and any rare leisure 
 he spent in charitable deeds; but that the idea of finding out 
 exactly how his men lived never occurred to him. So, even 
 among those who scruple to dismiss all their workmen to-day 
 or to-morrow, there are some who, nevertheless, are not true 
 masters. 
 
 This indifference is encouraged by the ease with which work 
 men of every industry in the West change their trade ; so 
 many ways are open to them, that they never definitely decide 
 in favor of one or the other. It is obvious that they will not 
 attach themselves to some master, and that the employer will 
 look upon his men as troublesome yet necessary helpers. This 
 is most evident in workshops where improved machine-tools 
 and extreme division of labor do away with all apprenticeship. 
 
150 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 In milling, a considerable number of specialists are employed, 
 and it is their interests to remain in that branch of trade in 
 which they are skilled. This must be counted among the 
 factors that helped Mr. Pillsbury in his undertaking. 
 
 III. ST. LOUIS, ST. PAUL AND MINNEAPOLIS. 
 
 An account of St. Louis, St. Paul and Minneapolis will give 
 the best idea of all the great Western cities of agricultural 
 origin and use. Their main industries have already been de 
 scribed, and now a few words must be said about their appear 
 ance. 
 
 St. Louis is much the oldest, and in some respects is almost 
 an ancient city. It is quite a surprise to come across a last 
 century building in a country where historical monuments are 
 rare. The inhabitants of St. Louis show a stranger the Catho 
 lic Cathedral and the old French Market with much the same 
 feeling as a Parisian has in presence of Notre Dame or the 
 Hotel de Cluny. The archaeologists make a pilgrimage to 
 Saint Clair Hotel, where Lafayette descended about 1820; but 
 the American archaeologist is not so enwrapped in the past as 
 his European brethren, and he studies the historic souvenirs in 
 order to measure the amount of progress since those days. 
 u Just look at that wretched Hotel Saint Clair," they say, " with 
 its small windows and blackened walls. It was the best there 
 was in those days. But just compare it with the Southern 
 Hotel, rebuilt in 1876, after having been burned, and to-day 
 thoroughly fireproof." 
 
 Truly, there is a great difference. The Southern Hotel will 
 compare favorably with the most luxurious of similar establish 
 ments in Europe. It is an immense building, with a gigantic 
 hall opening to four streets, with marble staircases, improved 
 elevators and dazzling decorations. Our more refined taste is 
 everywhere offended by the thousand details; but the colossal 
 proportions of the whole make up, in some measure, for the 
 faults, and one is forced to admit that it is an astonishing erec. 
 tion. Moreover, a marble plate, placed so as to be well seen, 
 tells that it cost a large sum ; and if the greatness of the figure 
 draws an astonished exclamation from the visitor, the Ameri 
 can asks for no more : it has produced its effect. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 151 
 
 The central part of the town, with its immense business 
 blocks and its stores, has no picturesqueness. The interior of 
 all Western towns is ugly. To see the elegant part of the 
 town the residences take the first street-car and travel as far 
 as it goes. There are many very pretty houses in St. Louis, 
 and more are being built every day. I saw a vast and superb 
 establishment covering a large area in the neighborhood of 
 Forest Park, and found its proprietor was a Mr. K., a willing 
 grain-speculator. He had begun to build when a sudden fall 
 in the market made him lose $600,000 and compelled him to 
 stop the work for some time. He went on with his operations 
 on the grain-market, regained what he had lost, and soon had 
 his original plan executed. People do not readily give up a 
 thing in the United States. 
 
 Not far from there I came across a man with a red beard, 
 sitting at the edge of a building lot and superintending the 
 workers who were digging the cellars for a new house. He was 
 a German and a building contractor. We had a talk together, 
 during which he gave me some details about the building- 
 trade and the price of lots in the town. The land we were 
 standing on was 2,260 square yards and had cost a rich mer 
 chant $10,000. They were beginning to build a house with a 
 stone basement and brick walls, which was to cost about 
 $30,000 in all $40,000. Such houses are not rare ; but there 
 are many smaller ones, costing from $10,000 to $20,000. Most 
 of them have an elegant though often rather strange appear 
 ance, and all bear the mark of being built for family rather 
 than for public life, the various rooms being designed and 
 located to suit every-day needs rather than for receptions. 
 There was no Parisian gilded salon opening to an elegant street, 
 and the rest of the rooms are little cages without daylight, 
 termed chambres a coucher by a deceptive euphemism. 
 
 The little detached houses of St. Louis are surrounded with 
 light and air, and one breathes at ease in them ; but, on the 
 other hand, one usually looks out on a long stretch of clayey 
 mud which serves as a street. Of course, the centre of the town 
 is paved, but in going to the public promenades or to the most 
 famous parks, one draggles through mud or raises up a cloud 
 of dust, according to the season. I specially commend to the 
 
I $2 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 visitor to St. Louis the avenues that lead to Shaw s Park as 
 being true cross-roads. On the faith of a pocket-guide, which 
 considers Shaw s Park one of the wonders of the world, 
 we plunge through the dilute clay and reach a portico in very 
 bad haste, which is the entrance to the park ; or, if you prefer 
 the other name, the Missouri Botanical Garden. On going in, 
 we find an ugly garden, badly designed and badly looked after, 
 where some shrubs with labels grow somewhat a la diable. We 
 ask if we are the victim of a bad joke; a small glass-house 
 stands in one corner, and further off the small country-house, 
 hermetically sealed, in which Mr. Shaw used to live. That 
 country-house is ugly, but also precious, for it supplies the key 
 to the enigma. Mr. Shaw was fond of gardening and had 
 planted some exotic shrubs, of which he thought a great deal, 
 on his property. After his death, he left his fortune to the 
 city, with the charge to look after the shrubs; and the city, in 
 the fullness of its gratitude, baptized the plantation of its gen 
 erous citizen " The Missouri Botanical Garden. " Out of 
 respect to Shaw s memory, no doubt, the pocket-guide to St. 
 Louis compares them with the Jardin dcs Plantcs at Paris, 
 Kew Gardens at London, and also to the Garden of Eden. 
 However ridiculous these comparisons may seem, they reveal 
 two characteristically American sentiments : the first is the ten 
 dency to exaggerate, to boast ; the second is the desire to en 
 courage useful public endowments. An American city will 
 always respect your intentions if you help to improve it or add 
 to its fortune, no matter what is the end you pursue. If you 
 give it your garden to preserve a collection of plants you have 
 taken pleasure in collecting, it will piously look after them and 
 will not stint you in praise ; if you found a college, a library or 
 a hospital, it will scrupulously observe the conditions you im 
 pose on the gift. Such institutions are constantly being 
 founded in the States by private individuals. Many public 
 services are rendered unnecessary through private liberality, 
 and it is too good a custom to laugh at, even when the too 
 open-mouthed acknowledgements of a Western city have 
 forced you to take a fruitless walk through its muddy streets. 
 Forest Park makes up for such a misadventure. It is a large 
 park, of some 1,350 acres, with long walks, lovely lakes and 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. I 53 
 
 great trees ; where crowds of people move about each after 
 noon, especially towards evening, in buggies, on horseback or 
 on cycles. The guide-book is not misleading this time. The 
 visitor must not expect to see ifhe correct turnouts of the Bois 
 de Boulogne, nor the elegances to which the Parisian is ac 
 customed ; but he finds it a pretty bit of country, sufficiently 
 well laid out to make it a pleasant promenade, and not over 
 done so as to spoil it. There are several picturesque places in 
 France, with pretty roads running through them, which are 
 quite like Forest Park. Nothing can be pleasanter than to 
 take a breath of air and recreation in the midst of its verdure, 
 after a very busy day. Few people come to show themselves 
 off ; but most are there to get some physical reaction to the ex 
 citement of the Merchants Exchange or the worries of a big 
 business. The carriages are often badly looked after, but the 
 horses trot quickly. The turnout is that of a busy man, who 
 must go rapidly from one place to another, and who has taken 
 advantage of a spare minute to drive round the park before going 
 home. The young people of both sexes ride about on horse 
 back, in any sort of costume, without a riding-habit and on 
 badly broken-in animals. A boy in the advanced class of the 
 high-school, or the simplest school-girl, would never consent to 
 appear in such guise in any of our large cities in France. That 
 is because people go about to be looked at in France, so that 
 a girl is happier in a well-made riding-habit than in the exer 
 cise which is its excuse. Here, on the other hand, people do 
 not think of the on-lookers, for they look at things in a crowd 
 just as they do if alone. It is the faculty of isolation we 
 noticed in the solitudes of the prairie which we see once again, 
 but now in a city of 500,000 inhabitants. 
 
 Everybody who can arranges for as much isolation as possible, 
 and the custom of having each house standing by itself is a proof 
 of this. These houses often have a very markedly rural char 
 acter. I was received by one very rich miller whose residence 
 is four miles from the centre of the city, and built on an emi 
 nence dominating the Mississippi Valley, of which it com 
 mands a magnificent view. The outbuildings are hidden on 
 one side of the slope, and consist of a stable, a coach-house 
 and a cow-house. The milk cows live there along with a heifer 
 
154 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 and a calf ; a little poultry-yard is arranged behind these build 
 ings. In fact, the place is a miniature farm. The owners of 
 this establishment would evidently be less out of their element 
 in the country than in Paris. 
 
 Even the workingmen can enjoy the independence of a sep 
 arate home. Many building societies, which aid in building 
 workmen s houses, are very active, and cover the less sought- 
 after districts with cheap yet comfortable dwellings. A single- 
 story house can be bought for $1,200 to $1,600, and great 
 facilities are offered to workingmen who have not capital and 
 yet wish to settle in this way. 
 
 I would sum up the general impression I have carried away 
 with me from St. Louis thus : A great city, full of contrasts ; 
 where the original Western agricultural character is dominant, 
 despite some ostentatious displays of riches ; where the old 
 Southern sympathies are still shown, but are overborne by the 
 satisfaction at the great development which has succeeded the 
 disastrous effects of the Civil War ; where the souvenirs of 
 the past have the respect that is their due, and do not give 
 rise to superfluous regrets, but allow a vigorous confidence in 
 the future. 
 
 The character of St. Paul and Minneapolis is less complex. 
 Cities, so young as they are know nothing of the past and 
 think only of the future. They embody the enterprising spirit 
 of the Northwest and grow under one s very eye, as children 
 who have not yet reached their common height. This makes 
 them a particularly interesting study. Their elegant appear 
 ance helps to obtain the sympathies of the visitor for them. 
 At this point the waters of the Missippi roll between the high 
 hills that hem it in ; its clear waters make a magnificent stream. 
 At St. Louis it is quite muddy. The inhabitants are careful 
 to explain that it is the Missouri s fault, and that the Missis 
 sippi s waters w r ould be very clear if the Missouri did not 
 come and taint their purity. But at this point the Mississippi 
 needs no excuse; and the beautiful residences of Summit 
 Avenue and Marriam Hill have a beautiful perspective, which 
 is greatly helped by its picturesque valley. 
 
 I have never seen anything in the United States that can 
 compare with that summit terrace, fringed with luxurious 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. I $5 
 
 dwellings, not huddled together and uniform, as is often seen in 
 the better quarters of our great European cities, put made the 
 most of in the middle of green lawns, dotted with beautiful 
 trees, each domain having its own originality. I was fortunate 
 enough to go through St. Paul several times, in the company 
 of very obliging friends, who told me the histories of the mil 
 lionaires who owned these sumptuous residences. One of them 
 had formerly been employed in a commercial house at $90 a 
 month ; another had begun in the world as clerk to a banker 
 who paid him only $60 a month; and, to-day, twenty-three 
 years later, he owns from forty to eighty million dollars. Many 
 of these great fortunes have been gained in railroads or in ele 
 vators ; but the development of the Northwest has led to the 
 formation of vast stores of all sorts, and also to very high com 
 mercial and financial situations. A wholesale grocer who could 
 scarcely earn a livelihood before the Civil War, as he assured 
 me, took me on a drive in a carriage with a pair of trotting 
 horses which had gained I cannot tell how many prizes, and 
 which were valued at $15,000. The great drygoods store of 
 Mannheimer Brothers could almost compete with the Bon- 
 Marche, and one of the partners recently offered the New York 
 Museum a picture by Benjamin Constant, which he had bought 
 at Paris at a high price. Mr. Marriam, the Governor of the 
 State, has a residence marvellously situated on the hill that 
 bears his name, which he built at great expense, in the midst 
 of a garden of over two and a half acres. Now a lawn of two 
 and a half acres is a luxury, when the land is worth more than 
 $20 per square yard. To myself, I compare the position oj 
 this Governor, with his home in such a house as this, to one of 
 our Prefects, who is a temporary lodger in an administrative 
 metropolis. 
 
 At St. Paul I stayed in a hotel managed by an Alsacian, and 
 I took advantage of my being a compatriot to get some infor 
 mation from my host about the importance of the establish 
 ment. The annual rent paid to the company which owns the 
 house is $100,000. The head-cook is a Frenchman, and he has 
 a dozen assistants who are also French. They are thirteen 
 artistes, and paid for as such. Such expenditure pre-supposes 
 a certain movement of travellers in the town, and this hotel is 
 not the only one. 
 
156 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Here also, as in St. Louis, we found the same mixture of 
 elegance and simplicity. Very rich people will receive you in 
 elegant and handsomely furnished villas ; but they have no 
 servants, except one or two young Germans waiting for a hus 
 band to come, and when he does they will leave their master 
 in the lurch ; so nobody has a household of them. In New 
 York, at the present moment, a footman is as rare as a pow 
 dered lacquey in Paris ; coachmen in livery are taken notice 
 of in Chicago ; and a man who has a youth to drive his horses 
 is considered lucky in St. Paul. The absence of servants 
 naturally prevents a great many of the little attentions, and, 
 generally, that ensemble of refinements which we consider the 
 necessary accompaniment of life. On the other hand, it shows 
 the ease with which independent situations can be had, and 
 the immense resources which new countries still offer. 
 
 When St. Paul and Minneapolis become old cities, in the midst 
 of a country fully peopled and cultivated, it is probable 
 that the millionaire of such times will be served by a crowd of 
 perfectly-dressed servants. But then, St. Paul and Minneapolis 
 will see the young Americans, who wish to get a good position 
 as quickly as possible, leave the banks of the Mississippi for 
 other lands still unoccupied, if any such lands exist. In these 
 days people will emigrate from Minnesota as they do from 
 England to-day. Then gentlemen with money will lead a 
 pleasanter life there ; but bank accountants and miller s boys 
 will no longer be able to become millionaires in a few years. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE WORKING OF THE MINES. GOLD IN THE ROCKY 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 I. THE BEGINNINGS AND TRANSFORMATIONS OF MINING-CITIES. 
 
 Cattle and cereals are the principal elements of the fortune 
 of the West, but they are not the only ones. If they be the 
 most important in the Valley of the Mississippi, they take the 
 second and not the first place at the foot of the Rocky Moun 
 tains, making way for a powerful rival gold. Go to Denver, 
 to Leadville, to Pueblo, in Colorado; to Butte or to Great 
 Falls, in Montana, and you will no longer hear any talk about 
 the harvest, the price of pigs or mortgaged farms ; you will no 
 longer see the long rows of elevators near the depots ; and if 
 you do come across some packing-house here and there, its 
 modest dimensions tell that its industry did not create the 
 town where you have just landed. 
 
 It is about thirty years ago that the gold-seekers rushed on 
 to these lands and founded the first European settlements there ; 
 but a complete transformation has taken place since then. It 
 has not simply happened, as in so many places in the West, 
 that the little newly-born village expanded into a rich and 
 populous city by the normal increase of population and the 
 development of commerce ; but something more has occurred, 
 for the first gold-seekers belong to quite a different category 
 from those who work the mines to-day, and the methods used 
 were totally different. It is possible to say that everything 
 has changed, not only since the time of the Indians, but since 
 the early years of colonization. At first the golden-sands were 
 washed in the little rivulets which rushed down the mountain 
 sides. Any man furnished with a shovel, a pick and a sieve 
 could undertake this simple industry, and sometimes succeeded 
 
158 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 in finding a quantity of gold-dust sufficient to bring him a fair 
 fortune. 
 
 Usually these gains vanished in the nearest drinking-saloon, 
 or were stolen by daring miners who appeared to find the use 
 of a revolver easier and more profitable than that of spade 
 and pick. This was the first reason for the discouragement of 
 the honest and hard workers, and the exhaustion of the placers 
 was the second. When the sand had been washed several 
 times and passed through the sieve, it gave only a small 
 chance of fortune to the gold-seekers, who soon gave up the 
 unprofitable work. The solitary miner of other days is not to 
 be found to-day, except as a sort of a curiosity. 
 
 But there are mines of gold quartz, owned by rich capital 
 ists having many workmen under their orders. The task is no 
 longer that of working the surface-layers, but gold is sought 
 in the depths, and complicated methods succeeds the old 
 simplicity. Instead of the few implements of the surface 
 digger, costly machines are used ; instead of picking the sur 
 face-sand, which needed no initial outlay, it is necessary to 
 sink pits, to bore long subterranean galleries, and to spend a 
 large sum in preliminary operations. Any sort of immigrant 
 cannot direct such works, but engineers are needed, special 
 ists. This is so true that the land never reached its real value 
 until organized mineral companies came to work it ; and then 
 there was a revolution among the prices of the lots. Among 
 other examples, they still tell at Butte that the Lexington 
 Mine was got by A. J. Davis in exchange for a poor horse 
 worth $20, and sold by him to a French company for 
 $1,000,000. This is one case, and not an exceptional event. 
 The gold-seekers saw a mine of quartz with the same eyes 
 with which an ignorant man looks on a precious manuscript 
 they could make nothing of it. There is the same difference 
 between the placers of the earlier years and the deep mines of 
 to-day that exists between the quarries where a mere peasant 
 can extract the flints to pave a road to the mines of St. Etienne 
 or of Cardiff. 
 
 A transformation has taken place in the physiognomy of 
 these countries corresponding to the complete change in the 
 methods of gold-seeking. In 1860 a hundred miserable-looking 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 159 
 
 sheds occupied the present site of Denver City. It was the 
 headquarters of the miners in the Rockies, and one of the 
 pleasantest gatherings of reckless men on the face of the Globe. 
 Every evening, the majority of the population being dead- 
 drunk, indulged in bloody rights, the result of quarrels at play, 
 or simply of the love for revolver-shooting. For instance, it 
 was a common joke to show one s skill by shooting between 
 the legs of a dancer or by smashing the lamps hanging from 
 the saloon-rafters. At this dangerous game a comrade might 
 easily be hurt, and as he retaliated a general hubbub resulted ; 
 the dead were picked up the next morning, and the saloon was 
 crowded again, for its reputation had not been affected in the 
 least degree by these little accidents. 
 
 Only the honest folk who were mixed with these brigands 
 felt a distaste for such savage manners. Many stayed indoors 
 every evening and tried to keep themselves unnoticed as much 
 as possible. I knew a quiet wine and spirit dealer, who travelled 
 among the Rockies for business purposes during twenty years, 
 at the the time of the great rush of gold-seekers. It was an ex 
 cellent time for pushing his goods, and he did not neglect to use 
 it. "Very often," he has told me, "I did not carry any 
 weapon and I never was uneasy. Whenever night came on I 
 kept in my room, no matter what row I heard outside, for it 
 would have been very risky to show my nose at the window, to 
 discover who was being killed." Others took a more heroic 
 attitude, and declared open war against the scoundrels, and tried 
 to rid the earth of them. Lynch law was often used in those 
 days. If an energetic Vigilance Committee got hold of a man 
 convicted of murder or of theft, he was often arrested, tried, 
 condemned and hung in less than a quarter of an hour. The 
 Committee published a paper to denounce the guilty : the com 
 positors never worked without revolvers close at hand, and the 
 editor ran the greatest danger of being assassinated at the next 
 street corner ; however, somebody was always ready to take 
 his place, and others to avenge his murder and support his suc 
 cessor. 
 
 The honest American has the excellent quality of not 
 allowing himself to be crushed because he is honest ; for a law- 
 abiding man is not necessarily one who shakes in his shoes, as 
 
l6o AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 is too often the case with us ; but, on the contrary, he thinks 
 that his interest should be considered before that of a criminal 
 or a gambler ; and, more than that, he has the necessary en 
 ergy to resist, and the sort of life he leads makes him all the 
 fitter to protest effectively, and to take the initiative and re 
 sponsibility when circumstances demand grave measures. He 
 is a man who spends his time in decisions, who makes up his 
 mind every day, and does not enter some career at twenty, 
 once for all, to find himself in it at forty, to grow old in it, and 
 to give it up only when unable to go on any longer; but just 
 the reverse of this: he begins to seek his fortune in one enter 
 prise and continues to seek it, now lost, now found again, per 
 haps several times, in a crowd of others; risking one day s 
 profits in the new scheme of the next day ; always ready 
 for every event ; never astonished at any reverse, and never 
 hindered by any difficulty. Such a man never hesitates to put 
 down, in the name of the higher interests he represents, any 
 bandits who may compromise the future of a new land of bound 
 less resources, in which he has settled and where he is anxious 
 to make use of the riches it contains, and to raise himself to a 
 superior position by his energy. That is why the corpses were 
 suspended from the little wooden bridge across Cherry Creek, 
 near Denver, twenty-five years ago ; and it is also because of 
 this that Denver has become a pleasant city, where the stranger 
 who comes to-day in the Pullman car can smoke his cigar at 10 
 o clock at night, in any street whatever, with less chance of an 
 unpleasant scuffle than in certain districts of Paris. 
 
 Between the actual tranquility of these mining centres of 
 the Rockies and the bad reputation they still have in Europe 
 and in the Eastern States, there is a contrast which sometimes 
 leads to amusing results. Among my baggage I had conscien 
 tiously brought a revolver with the latest improvements, and a 
 box of cartridges enough to make fifty of my fellow-beings 
 bite the dust with a determined intention to go about armed 
 on reaching " dangerous territories. But the 
 
 " Best-laid schemes o mice and men 
 Gang aft agley," 
 
 and I had completely forgotten the little arsenal lying at the 
 bottom of my trunk, when, seeking some clothes one day, I 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. l6l 
 
 discovered ball cartridges in my socks, among my handker 
 chiefs, and scattered among my things. The box holding the 
 cartridges had been broken by the terrible smashing of which 
 American railroad employees are so prodigal, and its contents 
 scattered on every side. Nothing was so laughable as these 
 traces of vanished apprehensions and an energetic revolution 
 so little justified by circumstances. Cosily settled in a comfort 
 able room, heated by steam and lit by electricity and served 
 by a rapid elevator, I was exactly like Tartarin de Tarascon 
 landing at the grand hotel on the Righi, with his ropes round 
 his body, his grapples, and his iron-shod shoes. My prudence 
 gave me the enjoyment of a moment of gaiety, and by this 
 little material incident, let me put my finger on the great 
 change for the better that Denver has undergone since the 
 times when heads were smashed there with so much readiness 
 and good humor. 
 
 Denver not only affords every desirable security, but has be 
 come a veritable centre of luxury and elegance. When one 
 walks down Sixteenth street about 4 o clock on a beautiful 
 sunny day, as is often the case there, when the sky is clear and 
 pure, it is easy to imagine oneself in one of our European Win 
 ter resorts. The ladies pass in elegant toilettes of American 
 taste, to be sure, but indicating a refinement which is 
 unexpected at mare than three days railway journey from 
 New York. There are numerous elegant stores. The 
 goldsmiths, jewellers and nicknack-sellers especially attract 
 attention by the number and riches of their bangles. 
 There are many merchants of curios and souvenirs, such 
 as are found at Nice or Biarritz. The stones, the rare 
 marbles and the delicate flowers of the Rocky Mountains 
 give an excuse for the manufacture of fancy ornaments, 
 small boxes, pretty albums, and a host of elegant objects which 
 recall our Parisian articles. All these things carry you away a 
 hundred miles from the prairie or the business bustle which is 
 so manifest in most American cities. 
 
 The impression of luxury increases when one visits the 
 beautiful residences on East Capitol Hill. The bankers, the 
 owners of mines and smelting factories live there, and, indeed, 
 all the rich people who have often come West from their homes 
 
l62 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 in the East, with fortunes already made, to sink it in working 
 mines that need their capitals. The composition of Denver is 
 not the same as that of other Western cities of similar impor 
 tance, such as Kansas City, Omaha or Minneapolis. There are 
 more European families there and less of that restless activity 
 and enterprising spirit which are so noticeable in the United 
 States. This may seem strange at first sight, but it has an 
 explanation. The gold mines that are worked to-day do not 
 allow a man to rise so rapidly or so high as farming or 
 speculation. A man cannot improvise as engineer or capital 
 ist, no matter how supple he may be ; so, a working miner has 
 many chances against his ever directing the shop in which he 
 works. There is a barrier difficult to surmount between him 
 and his employers. We have scarcely found this to a like ex 
 tent in any of the branches of American activity already dis 
 cussed. In stock-breeding or farming the barrier hardly exists, 
 and the agricultural laborer passes without difficulty to the 
 condition of proprietor of a homestead, for he has nothing to 
 do but to take his 160 acres. In packing-houses and flour- 
 mills, in the cattle and grain trades, master qualities are doubt 
 less necessary for success, but these are natural ones, which are 
 developed by experience and use ; an ordinary workingman 
 may have them, and, with a little cheek and chance, he will 
 get along much more easily than his emplo>*er s son, should he 
 have less of these. We have already remarked that Pillsbury 
 has turned out a hundred millers, now owners of important 
 mills, in the twenty years he has been in business. 
 
 Here it is not the same at all, for the managers of mines 
 and foundries must be skilled men. Theirs is a complicated 
 art, based on a knowledge of abstruse sciences, and those who 
 know it form a different class to those who carry out the oper 
 ations they direct. Further, their special abilities are always 
 in demand, instead of being without employment, as some 
 times happens in countries producing too many engineers ; for 
 few young Americans are inclined to undergo the long appren 
 ticeship which such skill demands. Their situation is assured ; 
 they draw a sure income from their professional knowledge, 
 and, in a measure, show the characteristics of European offi 
 cials. Thus, there exists a class of people in Denver, Lead- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 163 
 
 ville, Butte, etc., who escape from the constant coming and 
 going of American life. They form a separate element of the 
 population, one which is more favorable to the idea of an easy 
 life, that idea which we find so natural and which an American 
 so rarely understands. When one is a master of some rare 
 speciality, saved from all competition with his neighbor, and 
 not affected by the change of commerce ; when one has only 
 to look for another well-paid situation if the concern he serves 
 should fail ; and when there is not great anxiety in life, there 
 is every temptation to make existence as pleasant as possible. 
 It is all the easier to do this when origin as well as profession 
 exempt you from American influences, as is usually the case in 
 many of the mines in the Rocky Mountains, which are 
 managed by European engineers, who have come straight 
 from their school without knowing anything of the education 
 and customs of their adopted land. They are Europeans 
 transplanted without needing to be acclimatized, because they 
 find the conditions in the States somewhat similar in some 
 points to those in Europe. 
 
 Everything conspires to make Denver an elegant city, a 
 pleasure resort. Situated 5,250 feet above the sea, its air is 
 light and marvellously pure, and through its perfect clearness a 
 beautiful view can be got of the majestic and picturesque suc 
 cession of mountains, almost always covered with snow, whose 
 white outlines are clearly traced on a sky of spotless blue. 
 The height is a guarantee against the heat of summer, which 
 is hardly felt at Denver, and this attracts some visitors during 
 the hot season. There is hardly any doubt that these lucky 
 natural advantages, and the style of living that results from the 
 presence of the administration of the mines and smelting- 
 works, will soon make the town a centre of fashion. 
 
 There are characteristic symptoms of it already, especially 
 the presence of a large number of Frenchmen, more or less 
 rivals of Vatel, seeking a rich prey. In passing a group of people 
 one sometimes hears scraps of French, and if he listens for a 
 moment he is usually more inclined to go away as quickly as 
 possible, than to stay and hold out his hand to his compatriots. 
 One Sunday I heard French spoken by three young men who 
 were walking together, and I listened for an instant to find out 
 
164 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 what sort of folks they were. It did not take long to do so, 
 for this was the first sentence I heard: u Ah, pour $a, mon 
 vieux ! nous autrcs, les cuisinicrs, quand il sagit de boire, nous 
 en sommcs to ujours ! " ("Oh, as to that, old man, when it 
 comes to drinking, we cooks are always in it ! ") I quickly 
 turned on my heels and fled. 
 
 Even at Denver, French cooking has important enough rep 
 resentatives to let a small restaurant in the middle of the town 
 be officially baptized with the celebrated name of Tortoni. 
 This invocation of the boulevard in the Rocky Mountains 
 shows, as well as anything else, the reputation to which Den 
 ver is aspiring. 
 
 The number of Chinamen one meets is noteworthy. In the 
 East, even in New York, there are a certain number of them 
 doing laundry work. That is the only trade they follow there ; 
 but here they follow many, some working in the mines, some 
 acting as domestic- servants or serving in stores, and others even 
 give themselves out as doctors. I read an amusing advertise 
 ment one day in the Denver Times, of a certain Lee Wing, 
 seller of Chinese medicines, who promised to cure a host of 
 diseases, and protested against all suspicions of quackery by 
 asserting his doctorial rank in the Celestial Empire. " Lee 
 Wing," he said, "is not an ordinary empiric, but an intelligent 
 Chinese gentleman, obliged to turn to selling his medicines, as 
 the laws of the United States prohibit his practicing medicine 
 by refusing to recognize his Chinese diploma." This gentle 
 man, if he be one, is, at any rate, a rare conception, for Chinese 
 immigrants are almost exclusively from the lower classes work 
 men, domestic-servants, laundrymen or small tradesmen. That 
 is the reason their arrival immediately lowers the price of 
 manual labor. They generally accept work on any sort of con 
 ditions, as they are usually incapable of setting-up for them 
 selves and are accustomed to a very sober life. Hence the 
 strong popular movement against them which has been shown 
 several times in California; hence the massacres and vexations 
 of all sorts of which they have been the victims. There are not 
 enough of them in Denver to bring about such a crisis, but they 
 play an important part there, as they help to emphasize the spe 
 cial characteristics we have noted above, by becoming servants. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 165 
 
 The lower-class Chinese do not leave home with the inten 
 tion of becoming prominent citizens of the United States; but 
 their sole aim is to gather a little money and then return to 
 live at ease among their own people, whom they have left for a 
 short time without any intention of abandoning them forever. 
 They form a subordinate class and do not try to get higher. 
 For this reason, true Americans have a deep antipathy to them, 
 and try to keep out of their territory this race rebelling against 
 their desires of bettering themselves. They fear too large an 
 immigration of Celestials will compromise the future of their 
 country by introducing an immoveable element into a society 
 always on the move. 
 
 But Americans, who are less anxious about the future great 
 ness of their country, who have not so much of this progress 
 mania and a greater desire to enjoy life, are contented to find 
 the servants, they cannot otherwise get, among the Chinese, 
 and the careful and skilful workmen who will attend to every 
 little detail, and so are capable of making fancy goods and other 
 articles of luxury. The subordinate class, which is so irritating 
 to the true Yankee, is most useful to all those who wish to 
 enjoy the pleasures of life, of elegant habits and of true refine 
 ment. A Chinaman makes an excellent chef, an obliging valet 
 de chambre. He will prefer to attend to his master s nails than 
 swing his pick in the mines, when he finds a master disposed 
 to make him his manicure. Such masters cannot be found yet 
 in Denver, but possibly they will soon be ; at least all is ready 
 for them. The elements of what we in France call la grande 
 vie exist here more, than anywhere else in the United States 
 the elements of that existence about which some of our novel 
 ists so complacently write, because it is the ideal of so many 
 of our countrymen. 
 
 Denver has already quite a number of parasites, people who 
 do not produce anything directly retail dealers and artizans, 
 who live on the riches of the capitalists brought here by the 
 mines and the smelting-works. One American whom I ques 
 tioned as to how this population of 200,000 managed to live, 
 told me it was an unsolvable problem for him. As permanent 
 industry, there is nothing but four important smelting-works, 
 and two or three tiny packing-houses. The inhabitants who do 
 
166 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 not form part of the families of workmen in these places, must 
 get the means of subsistence from the movement of money 
 that goes on here. Banks are numerous, and the reason is 
 easily discovered. I presented a letter of credit at one, and 
 took advantage of the occasion to ask about the smelting-works 
 one could visit. The Vice-President of this bank happened to 
 own one, and kindly invited me to go over it with him. Most 
 of the bankers are thus interested in the working of mines or 
 of smelting-houses. That is what made Denver. 
 
 II. GOLD-SMELTING WORKS. 
 
 When visiting the gold-smelting works, I was principally 
 struck by the capacity of the operations by which gold is ex 
 tracted from its ore. The times when the miner put his nug 
 gets into a^ bag every night and placed it under his head when 
 sleeping, so as to diminish the chances of theft, evidently de 
 parted long ago. To-day the miner cuts out blocks of rock, 
 and this shapeless mass of ore is sent to the smelting-house to 
 be treated there. Already this ore has gone through one 
 operation. in the mine itself, where a lot of impurities are re 
 moved by washing, before it is sent off. An outsider has much 
 difficulty in recognizing the presence of gold or silver at all in 
 the dark-colored blocks ; and much has still to be done in the 
 smelting-room before the pure metal can be got. Firstly, the 
 ore must be ground to powder, and for this it is thrown under 
 a great steam-hammer, which quickly crushes it. Then the ore 
 is thrown into the roasting-furnace, where it is purified from 
 sulphur. Lastly, high furnaces give out a mixture of lead, 
 silver and gold, which is run into long moulds. This is called 
 bullion, or pig-lead. The smelting-works do not carry the 
 process any further, but send off the bullion to the refineries, 
 where the gold, silver and lead are separated. 
 
 Another difficulty must be added to these already complex 
 processes. To know the worth of the ore and the proportion 
 of gold and silver it contains, samples of the bullion of every 
 different variety must be analyzed in the laboratory. The raw 
 material is very costly and its price varies ; and the bullion sent 
 to the refinery is a mixed product. There is thus a whole 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 167 
 
 series of problems which must be solved scientifically, for any 
 empirical process admits too many chances of error. 
 
 Not only is it easy to be deceived about the amount of gold 
 yielded by a mine, but also about its quality. I was shown 
 some " fool s gold," a kind of false gold, which, it appears, often 
 leads to serious mistakes. I seem to discover more and more 
 that gold-seeking is not a trade for the first-comer, as in the 
 times of the placers ; but to-day it has become an industry, 
 scientific, complicated, and difficult. 
 
 Smelting-works, like mines, need a large floating capital. 
 There were nearly 400 men in the one I visited, who were paid 
 from $1.80 to $3.00 a day. The work went on day and night, 
 and 275 to 300 tons of ore were smelted in twenty-four hours. 
 That means a large sum to pay wages and buy raw material, 
 and the cost of fuel must be added. The Globe Smelting-Works 
 use 400 tons of coke, 300 tons of wood-charcoal and thirty 
 tons of coal every week. Lastly, there is the upkeep of the 
 costly machines which produce, distribute, and use the motive 
 power, and of the high furnaces, etc., etc. 
 
 The expense of setting up such works is very heavy. They 
 have lately built a new one at Great Falls, in Montana, which 
 cost $1,000,000. 
 
 Such figures explain *how Colorado, Montana, Utah, and all 
 the mining regions of the Rocky Mountains, have needed the 
 help of powerful capitalists before their natural wealth could 
 be used. These capitalists are not usually foreigners to Amer 
 ica. The superior directing element which the mines of pre 
 cious metal needed has been sent out by Boston, New York, 
 Philadelphia and other great commercial industrial cities of 
 the East. It is an analogous phenomenon to that we studied 
 at the ranches, large farms and banks. It is interesting to 
 find it in this new guise, because it is a confirmation of our 
 ideas about the ability of Americans to direct every new 
 movement that arises in any part of their territory. 
 
 Mines of precious metals have not customers everywhere, 
 like coal or iron mines. Outside of goldsmiths, who use gold 
 and silver as the raw material for their work, their only cus 
 tomer is the Federal Government, which has a monopoly of 
 the mint. Hence a difficulty. The government may or may 
 
168 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 not buy the extracted metals. In reality, they take all the 
 gold they can get ; but with silver it is a different matter, and 
 this places the mining companies in a very embarrassing posi 
 tion. The silver purchases having been very limited in recent 
 years, a crisis has arisen ; several mines have stopped work, 
 and others have struggled on with difficulty. The Silver Bill 
 of 1890, inspired by a desire to satisfy electors in the Rocky 
 Mountains, decides that the Government shall buy 4,500,000 
 ounces of silver annually, which is about the possible output 
 of the mines actually worked. While the Silver Bill appears 
 to put an end to the crisis by assuring sufficient outlet for the 
 silver extracted, in reality it is only a temporary remedy. The 
 advantage it gives to miners will soon bring about an increased 
 production for the mines actually being worked and re-open 
 other mines at present neglected. Consequently, in a short 
 time the same phenomenon of over-production will occur and 
 a new cure be needed. 
 
 The situation would be much simpler for the miner if the 
 State allowed the free striking of silver as it does that of gold ; 
 that is to say, if each holder of an ingot of silver could coin it 
 and let it into circulation in that form. But free coinage has 
 not yet been legalized. It is difficult to predict the effect of 
 permitting this, as the economists, who know most about cur 
 rency questions, are sharply grouped into mono and bi-metal- 
 ists, the former maintaining that a single standard is the safe 
 guard of public fortune ; the latter asserting that the adoption 
 of a double standard would result in unprecedented prosperity. 
 
 Such divergences of opinion at least prove that the question 
 of outlet is more complex for the miners and smelters of 
 precious metals than that of technical difficulties. It is 
 another reason why bankers should be the head men among 
 them. Engineers are not enough to conduct an enterprise so 
 closely connected with all the changes of the money-market. 
 As it is, the production of gold and silver cannot have so 
 certain a future as ranching and farming, being affected by a 
 thousand different events. It may aid the material prosperity 
 of the United States, but it alone is not enough to insure this; 
 and it is well known that the countries which have the best 
 share of gold and silver layers are often the poorest. Russia, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 169 
 
 Siberia and certain States of South America are remarkable 
 examples of this. If the riches of the United States grow at 
 the same rate as the working of the mines, it is because it is a 
 country of indefatigable producers. We have seen how 
 Americans grow cattle and grain ; we will now observe them in 
 a new sphere of activity in the world of industry. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BEGINNINGS OF INDUSTRY IN THE WEST. 
 
 I. THE AGRICULTURAL NATURE OF WESTERN INT3USTRY. 
 
 In the beginning of this book I contrasted the two parts of 
 the United States I proposed to study the Agricultural West 
 and the Manufacturing East. The division between them is 
 not so clear nor so sharp that a mathematical point can be 
 named where the one ends and the other begins ; for they in 
 terpenetrate and are not simply in juxtaposition. 
 
 The East is driving back the West. As the land becomes 
 peopled, as the soil gets exhausted, as the towns grow and as 
 industry develops, the country assumes a new aspect and be 
 comes Eastern. People no more come to seek land, but go 
 away because they feel crowded. At the same time the region 
 is no longer tributary to its older neighbors for the manufac 
 tured goods it needs, but develops industries within its own 
 borders. 
 
 Go to Chicago and you will see the point, or, at least, one 
 of the most important points, where Western farming ends ; 
 and you will also find Chicago is a manufacturing centre. 
 
 If you wish to study the history of industry, if you wish to 
 know in what way it first developed in the States, you need 
 not go to Eastern cities to Boston, New York, Philadelphia 
 or Pittsburg but you must begin your investigation at Chicago, 
 St. Louis, Kansas City or St. Paul, where industry is making 
 its first appearance. For this reason we shall go to the great 
 cities of the Mississippi Valley and begin our study of a new 
 form of American activity industrial labor. 
 
 Up to this point we have examined farms and mines, the 
 products taken directly from the earth. We shall now see how 
 another important form of activity is grafted on to this pri 
 mary one, and that it, also, is organized in a characteristically 
 
1/2 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 American way. We shall discover that it is already largely 
 developed in the West, although restricted to a few objects. 
 
 Spinning and smelting are not found in Chicago or St. Louis, 
 as in New England or Pennsylvania. There are industries, but 
 industries of a special class, namely, those depending on agri 
 culture or on transports. 
 
 Chicago, to which we must always return, as it sums up all 
 the characteristics of a great Western city, is the capital of the 
 railroads the place where most of the great lines meet and 
 thus it is that all the produce of the country is so effectively 
 drawn to Chicago. This enormous transport movement needs 
 an immense rolling-stock. Hence arises an industry already 
 highly developed, of which Chicago is naturally the centre, 
 with all the more reason, as Illinois, Minnesota, Michigan and, 
 above all, Wisconsin, send her the raw material the timber. 
 
 The first great industry which is established, outside those of 
 the packing-houses, flour-mills and dairies, where agricultural 
 produce is worked up, is then an industry connected with 
 transport. It is still indirectly, yet closely, related to agricul 
 ture. It arises because cattle and grain must be sent to dis 
 tant markets before being used ; while it, nevertheless, arises 
 as a separate industry, and gives a manufacturing aspect to 
 the place where it is practised, which makes them look some 
 what like Eastern cities. 
 
 For example, everybody knows that the labor question is 
 discussed at Chicago, and that strikes often break out there. 
 The American and even the French newspapers often announce 
 that this or that shop has stopped working. It is one point 
 common to West and East. It is, therefore, necessary to visit 
 other places besides packing-houses and elevators before giv 
 ing a complete account of the essential features of Chicago. 
 The making of railroad rolling-stock must be inspected. After 
 visiting Armour we must call on Pullman. 
 
 II. _A MODEST INDUSTRIAL ESTABISHMENT IN THE WEST. THE 
 WORKSHOPS AND CITY OF PULLMAN. 
 
 Mr. Pullman is the builder after whom the American wa 
 gons de luxe the Pullman cars have been called ; but he does 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 173 
 
 not confine his attentions to turning out palaces on wheels. 
 Ordinary passenger and freight-cars are also needed ; and, in 
 deed, he turns out more freight-cars than anything else, for 
 the number that are in circulation is infinitely greater than 
 that of either sleeping or even ordinary passenger cars. An 
 idea of the importance of his workshops can be had from the 
 fact that a freight-car is turned out every quarter of an hour 
 during the ten hours of each day s work. On the other hand, 
 only three sleeping-cars can be finished in a week of sixty hours. 
 Their cost is from $16,000 to $20,000 each. 
 
 The planning of these workshops is remarkable, and every 
 detail seems to have been considered. To cite one point, the 
 buildings in which freight-cars are built are a series of vast 
 sheds as broad as the cars are long. Opposite each car a large 
 bay opens on the iron way and a car, as soon as it is finished, 
 runs along the rails and leaves the shop. All the timber that 
 forms a car is cut to the required size and is got ready for fit 
 ting together in a special department, whence it is brought 
 along the same rails to the sheds where the car is built. Tiny 
 little locomotives are running along the lines which are built in 
 the spaces between the various workshops. Some are hauling 
 magnificent Pullman cars, glittering with copper and gilding ; 
 others drag trucks of planks, joists, bolts and the iron needed 
 in car-building. Everything is done in order and with precision ; 
 one feels that each effort is calculated to yield its maximum 
 effect, that no blow of a hammer, no turn of a wheel is made 
 without cause. One feels that some brain of superior intelli 
 gence, backed by a long technical experience, has thought out 
 every possible detail. 
 
 Besides the fitting-shops that deliver the finished car, there 
 are many preparatory shops. The most important are the 
 timber-shops, for wood is the raw material most used in the 
 making of every kind of car; then comes the metal-works, 
 wheel and bolt shops, forges, steel-works, etc., and then those 
 which are more especially for passenger-cars, such as the hair 
 cloth factory, etc., etc. 
 
 It is easy to understand the wonderful material complexity 
 of such an enterprise. It needs a number of different kinds of 
 factories which must be run for the common end. From the 
 
1/4 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 purely industrial point of view, it is an interesting sample of 
 the great American manufactories. 
 
 The Pullman Palace Car Company does not only make the 
 rolling-stock, but it superintends the running of part of it over 
 the whole surface of the States. 
 
 In fact, all the wagons de luxe on the American railroads be 
 long to them, except those on the five lines owned or con 
 trolled by the Vanderbilts, where Wagner palace-cars replace 
 them. The Wagner palace-cars bear their inventor s name. 
 Wagner was the first man to conceive a sleeping-car. He 
 started a factory at Buffalo, and signed a contract with Van- 
 derbilt for the running of his cars. When Wagner died, 
 Vanderbilt got hold of his works, and to-day it is his heirs 
 who own the Wagner Palace Car Company. Naturally, they 
 have the custom of all Vanderbilt roads. But while Wagner 
 was being absorbed by the powerful house of Vanderbilt, Pull 
 man started an opposition business which soon surpassed its 
 rival in the excellence of its work and in its better organization. 
 That is why the Pullmans run over more than 60,000 miles of 
 road without any legal guarantee of this monopoly, which they 
 retain simply because of the advantages which they give. 
 
 The advantages are of more than one kind. As far as the 
 companies are concerned, Mr. Pullman gives them a very large 
 percentage for running his cars, and thus gets the preference ; 
 and the comfort of the Pullman cars is made still more accept 
 able to the public by the excellent organization of the service. 
 For trie car is not only a good carriage, but also a first-class 
 hotel, where you can sleep, eat, bathe, and, what is so rare in 
 America, also find an attentive and polite servant, who will 
 blacken your boots, brush your clothes, carry your bag and re 
 ceive your "tip " with a smile. He is usually a negro or at 
 least a mulatto but a negro properly and carefully dressed, 
 with some external self-respect, and all the qualities of a good 
 servant. The European experiences a veritable pleasure in 
 finding this worthy man after leaving an American hotel, where 
 personal attention is not at all understood, despite the luxury 
 they display and the machines they own. But the traveller 
 is astonished, as well as delighted. How is it that the Pullman 
 Company have been able to get such a body of men together 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 1/5 
 
 in this country? How do they manage to keep it together on 
 that vast net-work of American railroads, far from personal 
 supervision ? 
 
 This is a problem that cannot be solved, or at least the solu 
 tion cannot be understood except by visiting Pullman City, 
 the town recently founded and built by Mr. Pullman, to hold 
 his workshops and lodge part of his workmen. In seeing 
 what colossal difficulties have been overcome in doing this, 
 and what results Mr. Pullman has got, it is easy to understand 
 how he has dressed the negroes as he has done. The demon 
 stration is one by a fortiori. 
 
 Mr. Pullman s endeavor has been as follows : To mould not 
 only a body of employees, but a whole population of work 
 men and their families to ways of living which would raise 
 their moral, intellectual and social level. Strongly imbued 
 with the Anglo-Saxon idea, that exterior respectability aids 
 true self-respect, he wished to test his theory on his workmen, 
 and conceived the great plan which many treated as that of a 
 madman ten years ago, and which everybody admires to-day 
 in its realized form. This scheme was nothing less than to 
 build a new town according to sanitary, healthy principles ; to 
 make it not only elegant, but convenient ; and to transfer 
 thither the workshops of the Pullman Car Company, and to 
 lodge some of the workmen in it. 
 
 The plan was carried out to the letter. On May 25th, 1880, 
 the works were begun on 4,000 acres of ground, which the 
 Company had bought for the purpose, twelve miles north of 
 Chicago, on a meadow near the shores of Lake Calumet, 
 crossed by the Illinois Central Railroad. First of all, the 
 future town was supplied with a complete system of sewers, 
 designed so as to assure perfect healthiness, and then the 
 water and gas mains were laid in every part. This under 
 ground work being completed, the superstructure was begun. 
 Besides workshops and houses, a hotel, a church, a library and 
 a theatre were not forgotten, and everything was arranged 
 with the greatest taste, any monotony being avoided by diver 
 sifying the architecture and leaving wide spaces for streets 
 between each row of houses, and by making promenades and 
 squares, in which trees were planted. 
 
176 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 There only remained the peopling of these pretty stone or 
 brick-houses, so coquettishly built and so conveniently fitted 
 up. The Company let them to its workers, and, in spite of 
 the high rents, Pullman City soon had 8,500 inhabitants. 
 
 At Pullman City a suite of two rooms costs from $4 to $9 a 
 month, according to its size and situation ; the dearest being 
 those in small houses, which allow the tenant more freedom, 
 for it is a great consideration in the eyes of Americans to have 
 a home of one s own. The workmen who wish cheap lodgings 
 live in large blocks, which Mr. Pullman built for this purpose. 
 Large families, \vho need more than two apartments, can find 
 the three, four or five rooms they seek at from $4.60 to $153 
 month. Detached cottages with five rooms rent at $16 to $20, 
 and houses of from six to nine apartments at $23 to $100 per 
 month. Of course, these are not workmen s dwellings, but resi 
 dences for the managers at the works. 
 
 I have intentionally insisted on these prices because they 
 show two characteristic features of Mr. Pullman s creation. In 
 the first place, they prove that it is no charitable institution. Mr. 
 Pullman has clearly said this to those who have asked him, and 
 he said to me, " I have not contributed fifty cents to all that 
 you see here. I never have had any idea of giving alms to my 
 men, and every dwelling pays the rent it ought to do in order 
 to give the company a sufficient revenue for the money sank 
 in building Pullman City. " 
 
 In the second place their highness in price is easily explained 
 by the conveniences of all sorts that the workman finds in these 
 model dwellings. The housewives are especially loud in praise 
 of the enormous simplification thus made in their daily duties: 
 no more buckets of refuse to carry out to the pavement ; no 
 more water to carry up; for all rubbish, sweepings, filth of 
 every sorts, are at once let down into the underground sewers, 
 which carry them to an immense reservoir. A powerful pump 
 forces them three miles to a model farm, where Mr. Pullman 
 has started market-gardening. Water-taps and water are 
 abundant in every house. 
 
 A workman can set up house in Chicago for a little less than 
 it costs him in Pullman City, but he must go to a badly-aired, 
 unhealthy and hideous-looking district. Only men well 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 177 
 
 enough off to buy a house can have a comfortable home in 
 Chicago. 
 
 Mr. Pullman wished to prove that it was possible for every 
 body to have roomy apartments, supplied with every desirable 
 modern improvement, without paying excessive rents. The 
 quickness with which his houses have been occupied is a proof 
 that he was right. 
 
 But Mr. Pullman aims higher than this. He is not only an 
 intelligent and progressive builder ; he is also a mindful over 
 seer, a man truly anxious about the moral progress of his work 
 people. From this higher point of view Pullman City is of the 
 greatest interest, for nowhere can one see a better example of 
 how an American understands his duties as employer. 
 
 To prevent any misconception, I must explain that in Amer 
 ica, as in Europe, many manufacturers do no trouble themselves 
 about this duty, and deliberately set it aside. Mr. Pullman is 
 thus far from representing the average type of an American 
 employer of labor ; in fact, he is a specimen of the very high 
 est type. In stating the motives which made him build Pull 
 man City, I am not giving the reader a sample of the ordinary 
 relations in America between master and men ; but I am show 
 ing him what a noble-minded American employer considers his 
 duty, when he seriously thinks of it at all. If you wish to com 
 pare Pullman with some European manufacturers, you must 
 select one who is famous for the institutions he has established 
 for his men, and not the first great manufacturer of whom you 
 think ; and it is only by doing this that your comparison will 
 teach you anything. This being understood, let us see how 
 Mr. Pullman was led to carry out his schemes. 
 
 I mentioned above that he wished to raise the moral, intel 
 lectual and social level of the workingman by placing him in re 
 spectable surroundings. That is his base of operations, but it 
 has several accessory aids. One of the first of these is the ab 
 solute prohibition of any saloon. ,He manages this by refusing 
 to let any of his houses to any saloonkeeper, which he can 
 easily do, as all belong to him ; and every tenant suspected of 
 selling liquor is purely and simply asked to find a shelter else 
 where. This is the only restrictive measure adopted by Mr. 
 Pullman. Like many of his countrymen, he has seen the 
 
178 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 ravages produced by an abuse of alcohol in all classes of Amer 
 ican society, and especially among workingmen. He wished 
 to remove the temptations to drink whiskey from his work 
 men, and he has got a band of select men by this simple de 
 vice. Indeed, drunkards, dissolutes and idlers, who are used 
 to hanging about where the bottle is, have all fled from this 
 temperance town, and only those of sober tendency remain. 
 Add to this the fact that nobody is obliged to live in Pullman 
 City, even among the workmen of the Palace Car Company, 
 and it is evident that there is, properly-speaking, no compulsion 
 at all. A houseowner who refuses to lease to an inn-keeper 
 has never yet been considered a tyrant. 
 
 Beside this precaution against the entrance of a disturbing 
 element, Mr. Pullman has neglected nothing that would help 
 his workmen to develop intellectually and socially. He has 
 founded a public library, schools and a church. One church 
 was not enough for the needs of a community belonging to 
 many religious bodies, so he has favored the erection of sectar 
 ian churches. At Pullman City there is a theatre, large open 
 spaces for the national game of base-ball, and numerous other 
 attractions of a similar sort. There has been no wish to make 
 a town of exaggerated austerity, but quite the opposite, as 
 every honest means of recreation has been fostered. 
 
 These things are not given by Mr. Pullman to his men ; but, 
 let me repeat it, they are offered to them if they care to pay 
 the prices asked. With the exception of the public library 
 which is an outcome of his personal liberality all the institu 
 tions mentioned above are founded on the principle that each 
 must contribute to their sustenance in the measure that he 
 makes use of them. It is very remarkable that the workmen 
 willingly accept the bargain offered. They pay more for their 
 houses than they would do in Chicago, because they appreciate 
 the advantages gained by so doing. They support the churches 
 because they think them useful, and the theatre or base-ball 
 because they wish to amuse themselves, without any of them 
 needing to give a cent to the church, theatre or base-ball asso 
 ciation if he prefer to remain sceptic or to amuse himself at 
 home. 
 
 Mr. Pullman has thus thoroughly understood the aspirations 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 179 
 
 of the men in his factory ; he has not dreamt of an impossible 
 material wellbeing, or a moral progress to which they are 
 opposed. He has realized the practical maximum of material 
 wellbeing that is suited to his men ; he has brought to their 
 doors every means of moral and intellectual progress, and has 
 kept away that great danger of large cities the saloon ; and 
 lastly, he has been backed up in his work-shops. He has sup 
 plied the necessary steps for those who wish to climb higher. 
 
 That is the essential feature of the oversight exercised by 
 Mr. Pullman ; it is an oversight adapted to those who can 
 profit by it. For French workmen there would be too much 
 luxury in the fittings of the houses. They could not pay such 
 rents out of their lower wages, and they would contract habits 
 out of keeping with their means. The same drawbacks do not 
 affect American workmen, who earn wages much higher than 
 ours, and live a fuller life. Further, they have many chances 
 of raising themselves to a better position ; and it is not 
 imprudent to be preparing themselves for it. Another remark 
 able feature is the absence of compulsion. I have already said 
 that no worker is forced to stay in Pullman City. It is not an 
 obligatory phalansterium ; no special restrictions exist, even for 
 those who live there, except that prohibiting saloons. A visitor 
 to the town is at once struck by its unusual appearance, for it is 
 not only artistically built, but its inhabitants have also an air of 
 carefulness and a look harmonizing with the frame in which 
 they are seen. I spent a Saturday there. After midday most 
 of the works were stopped and the men allowed a half holiday. 
 I met gentlemen in the streets who, I was informed, were 
 workmen walking with their wives or sweethearts. There was 
 not a man in shirt-sleeves, as is so commonly the case in many 
 American cities. The habit of outside propriety and dignity- 
 is being developed here without any special prescription. It is 
 enough to admit the workmen who wish a comfortable dwell 
 ing to live in this town, built especially to satisfy them. A set 
 of picked families has thus been formed, and they have shown 
 an example to the others, who have followed it. 
 
 It has become the custom to doff one s hat when waiting for 
 Mr. Pullman in his Chicago office. That may seem a simple 
 matter to a French reader, but an American, who is not accus- 
 
180 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 tomed to the habits of the place, stands stupified when he sees 
 all the heads uncovered. Indeed, I have seen plenty people 
 take it more at ease when with President Harrison, and I re 
 member one man who kept his hat on his head when speaking 
 to the Governor of Minnesota in his private-room, without the 
 Governor thinking of telling him of his want of good manners. 
 The introduction of a case of simple honest manners is one 
 good result of Mr. Pullman s action. 
 
 On entering his reception-room one is face to face with a 
 man very properly and carefully dressed, and perfectly calm. 
 He willingly gives details and explanations about his work in 
 Pullman City, and seems very anxious that his purpose should 
 not be misunderstood. " People often deceive themselves 
 about the idea which guides me in my work," he said. " For 
 instance, it has been compared with that which your country 
 man, Mr. Godin, started at Guise ; but there is not any relation 
 whatever between his plan and mine. I have no wish to mix 
 all my workmen in a vast community, but only to prove to 
 them that decency, propriety and good manners are not unat 
 tainable luxuries for them ; that it is not necessary to be loosely 
 or carelessly dressed in order to do good work, to save money, 
 and to raise themselves in the social scale. I have been un 
 derstood, as you can easily see ; and owing to the favorable 
 conditions of Pullman City, there is growing up a nucleus of 
 families who are thorough believers in this idea, and who will 
 adhere to those habits of respectability which I have tried to 
 make general. I have been accused of being an autocrat 
 and of shutting up my people in a gilded cage. That is another 
 error, and the first of them you meet can tell you that I have 
 not tried, in the slightest way, to interfere in any of their de 
 cisions. Besides, I should not have gained my end had I forced 
 them to fulfill it, for I wish to grow a reasoned-out convic 
 tion, and not simply to force them to this or that way of con 
 ducting themselves." " But," I said, " do you not wish to part 
 with the ownership of these houses some day or other? Will 
 it not be a great mistake to force your workers to be always 
 tenants in this land where others come to have homes of their 
 own?" " It is truly my intention," he replied, " to form an 
 other town, near this one, where each resident will build a cot- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. l8l 
 
 tage after his own inclination, suited to his own needs, and 
 which will be his own. I have already bought a large area of 
 unoccupied land for this purpose, but I do not think the 
 time has yet come for beginning this enterprise. If I had sold 
 the sites to my workmen at the beginning of the experiment, 
 I should have run the risk of seeing families settle who are not 
 sufficiently accustomed to the habits I wish to develop in the 
 inhabitants of Pullman City, and all the good of my work 
 would have been compromised by their presence. But to-day, 
 after ten years apprenticeship, several families have become 
 confirmed in their habits, recognize the advantages of them, 
 and will see that they are observed wherever they may settle. 
 Such families form the pick, and I hope to sell the building 
 lands near my workshops to some of them, little by little." 
 
 Such is Mr. Pullman s idea. Raise the workman whenever 
 he shows any desire to get on, help him as much as possible, 
 but do it in such a way as appeals to him ; that is to say, back 
 up his goodwill, strengthen his resolutions, complete his im 
 perfect capabilities; and when he has progressed enough to be 
 able to go alone, let him develop freely by himself, cut the 
 leading strings that have guided him so far, but which will now 
 hinder his onward march. It is a lofty and just ideal. Here it 
 has taken a particular form which cannot be copied in all its 
 details elsewhere ; but, allowing for the special circumstances 
 which accompanied the creation of Pullman City, it can safely 
 be asserted that it is one of the best examples of true oversight 
 that the great world of industry can exhibit. 
 
 I was in Chicago in 1890, just when the strikes had stopped 
 the work in many factories. At Pullman City work went on 
 actively. However, in 1885 an important strike took place 
 there, and, after what Mr. Pullman told me himself, for ten 
 days the men did not come to the works ; but at the end of 
 that time they were tired of this, and, seeing that the Com 
 pany neither made advances nor threats, they returned to work 
 of their own accord. 
 
 This quiet, negative way of dealing with things is part of 
 Mr. Pullman s system. He mixes very little with his men, and 
 never concerns himself about their private affairs. The duties 
 of management to which he must attend leave him little time 
 
182 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 for details ; and the love of independence, which overpowers 
 every other sentiment in the American, would not make the 
 workers take kindly to such protection. When there is any 
 ill feeling between them, he simply waits till it disappears ; 
 but he prevents it as much as possible by altering the wages 
 according to the state of the labor-market. The excellent 
 planning of his works enables him to pay manual labor at a 
 high rate, and statisticians report that its price is a little higher 
 in Mr. Pullman s than in similar workshops. 1 
 
 All wages are paid by piecework, and vary greatly with the 
 skill of the worker. True artisans, too, are to be found in 
 Pullman, men who know their trade, which is quite different 
 from the simple handwork which is often met with in manu 
 factories. It is said that not one of these men earns less 
 than about $3.60 a day. This explains how they can afford to 
 pay such rents as are quoted above. 
 
 A large proportion of the tradesmen are foreigners. Only 
 half the population of Pullman was born in America ; Sweden 
 and Norway sent a seventh ; Germany an eighth ; then came in 
 order of importance Ireland, Canada, England, Holland, Scot 
 land, Denmark, Switzerland, France and Italy. 
 
 A word has yet to be said about the running of this large 
 business. Mr. Pullman is the true and only master, although 
 he does not own all the capital which is engaged. The Pull 
 man Palace Car Company has issued shares of $100, which are 
 sold to-day for $200, and are on the Exchange list ; but these 
 represent only a small portion of the whole stock. The largest 
 amount is in the hands of Mr. Pullman himself, the balance in 
 those of two or three moneyed Chicago men, such as Armour, the 
 great butcher, and Marshall, of the great drygoods store. In 
 spite of appearances, the Pullman Car Company is thus one of 
 the same sort of societies we have already seen at work when 
 discussing railroads^ large ranches, packing-houses, flour-mills 
 and elevators; it is a private undertaking, not an administra 
 tive machine, like our joint-stock companies (soctitfs d action- 
 naires). In fact one man really manages all this enormous 
 amount of manufacture and transport, and he is the man who 
 
 I. Report of Commissioners of the State Bureaus of Labor Statistics on the 
 Industrial, Social and Economic Conditions of Pullman ; p. 10. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 183 
 
 made the business, as he is the man who made Pullman City. 
 After what was told to me, Mr. Pullman must have begun life 
 very moderately. It seems that his first business was that of 
 moving houses ; and when a Chicago citizen wished to make 
 his dwelling journey from one district to another, thirty years 
 ago, Pullman furnished the means of doing this. It soon came 
 into his head to build cars, and in 1867 he started the Pullman 
 Palace Car Company, for the construction of sleeping-cars, 
 copied from those invented by Wagner at Buffalo. The com 
 pany was formed with a capital of $1,000,000, and to-day this 
 amounts to $16,000,000. One can understand how a man who 
 has had such a career, who has raised himself in such a remark 
 able way, should be good at helping his workmen to better 
 themselves. His own experience has taught him, better than 
 any philanthropic theory could have done, how he could man 
 age to exercise that effective oversight which lets the worker 
 gradually do without supervision and really rise in the social 
 scale. 
 
 ni. WHY MR. PULLMAN S EXAMPLE is RARELY FOLLOWED IN THE WEST. 
 
 The industry formed by Mr. Pullman is a typical Western 
 industry, and in passing through the great cities of the Missis 
 sippi Valey we come across several of the same sort factories 
 for making cars, wagons, street-cars, etc.; but his example of 
 high-principled oversight is rarely followed. I know well 
 enough that everybody has not the means of accomplishing 
 such a feat as building a town for his workmen ; but I must 
 also remark that the industrial chiefs of the West usually con 
 cern themselves very little about their employees, and do not 
 seem to be very anxious either for their material or moral ad 
 vancement. 
 
 At St. Louis, I visited a street-car factory where about a 
 hundred men were employed, the majority being Germans, 
 who had left their fatherland to seek work in the States ; some 
 Irish, and a very small number of French and Americans. The 
 manager who showed me over the place is an American of 
 English origin, an excellent, well-meaning man ; but I could 
 not discover that he had any efficient ideas about raising the 
 

 184 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 men to a higher level. True, he deplored the improvidence 
 and agitation of the Irish, and praised the prudent character 
 of the Germans ; but in vague terms, such as the first-come 
 journalist would use. He did not speak to me thus from his 
 own experience among the men, but was content with ex 
 pressing a general opinion on a subject which did not specially 
 concern him. He may be taken as the average type of a 
 Western industrial chief. They are usually entirely taken up 
 with the purely industrial side of their duties, and let their 
 workmen put things to rights as best they can. When plenty 
 orders come in, they give big wages to increase their staff, 
 which they reduce without any scruple the minute they fear 
 over-production. Strikes break out every now and again, but 
 by some arrangement or another work is begun again, until a 
 new strike happens, and so on. In short, it is a most un 
 stable state of affairs, in which the American employees readily 
 take their part, because of the vicissitudes of all sorts to which 
 they have been accustomed, and which the workers can stand 
 better than in Europe, because there are a greater number of 
 trades in which they can be employed, and because it is 
 easier to get work in the Western United States than in 
 our manufacturing centres. 
 
 If you wish to embarras any of these masters ask him to 
 bring you into touch with one of his men. Nothing could 
 be more distasteful to him, because he is not in a position to 
 do so, as he does not know them. He will tell you that nine- 
 tenths of the workmen in Chicago live in houses that are their 
 own property; he will give you the figures published by the 
 building societies ; but he does not in the least know how his 
 own workers live. 
 
 Whence this ignorance and indifference? 
 
 First of all, because Western industries are always found in 
 great cities, where the men at any workshop disappear in a 
 dense population. How could you expect the manager of the 
 street-car factory which I inspected to discover his men scat 
 tered through the suburbs of St. Louis? 
 
 Another reason is the uncertainty of custom. Everybody 
 does not manage to develop such an exceptional situation, 
 which defies competition, as that of Mr. Pullman. We have 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. i 5 
 
 seen that they not only make palace-cars at Pullman City, 
 but also ordinary passenger and freight-cars ; and they even 
 build street-cars, when there is nothing better to do. But the 
 number of customers and the advantage of a well-established 
 reputation assures them almost constant orders ; and, further, 
 the running of the palace-cars over more than 60,000 miles of 
 road gives them one sure outlet for their goods. The Pull 
 man Company is organized in view of a specialty in which it 
 becomes nearer perfect every day, and of which it practically 
 has the monopoly. 
 
 But the man who makes street-cars similar to those of a 
 crowd of competitors is not sure of selling them. He some 
 times makes them for far-off towns, and is obliged to dance 
 attendance on customers, so as to snatch the order out of his 
 rival s hands. The street-cars I saw at St. Louis were being 
 made, some for Chicago, others for Kansas City. The wagons 
 and the agricultural implements, which St. Louis makes in 
 large quantities, are sent to New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, 
 and even Minnesota. There are no fixed customers, and not 
 even a fixed area for sales. The lowness of railroad tariffs, 
 due to competition, help that state of things, and the modifi 
 cations that are constantly taking place in the country help to 
 accentuate them. Sometimes, a town will develop all at 
 once and be an unexpected outlet for the most varied indus 
 tries ; then, just when these industries have become accus 
 tomed to supplying it, similar ones are started in the town it 
 self, and thus the market for outside goods is effectively 
 closed. Sometimes a new railroad opens up a country hith 
 erto inaccessible, as happened, for instance, twenty years ago, 
 when the tracks were built across the Rocky Mountains and 
 California united to the Eastern States. Or, again, a simple 
 change of tariffs, or fight between two rival companies, may 
 happen and change the old state of things. 
 
 Western industries are particularly susceptible to tariff 
 changes, because of the nature of the things they make. A 
 street-car or a wagon is a very cumberous object, especially 
 considering its value, and the cost of transportation has a 
 great effect on its price to a customer. 
 
 The whole of these circumstances, taken together, make cus- 
 
1 86 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 torn very uncertain, and often bring about crises of overproduc 
 tion, which determine the dismissal of workmen and often the 
 ruin of the masters. Western industrial chiefs usually attribute 
 these crises to an overdevelopment of the towns, and I have 
 heard these complaints made on several occasions, but cannot be 
 lieve they give the true explanation. For, in the first place, the 
 reasons I have given are enough to explain overproduction ; 
 and, secondly, it is impossible to bring about an equilibrium 
 between the cities and country in the West, as neither of them 
 has yet attained its normal development. This adjustment 
 will become stable quite naturally hereafter, and the present 
 oscillations are only helping to bring this about. In fact it is just 
 as easy to support the contradictory opinion and maintain that 
 the Western cities are destined to become industrial in the 
 future, and that the first symptoms of this are beginning to 
 appear. 
 
 It is quite certain that the West will not always be depen 
 dent on the Eastern manufacturer ; and factories, which by 
 their location should soon supply the needs of the Mississippi 
 Valley, are being built at present in St. Louis, Chicago, Milwau 
 kee, etc. To-day they are few and far between, and still in the 
 first experimental stage ; and the men who run them are fight 
 ing against the first difficulties of a new concern, and have 
 little time for the higher duties of a master. This is an addi 
 tional reason to those mentioned above. 
 
 At St. Louis I visited a shoe-factory where 400 men were 
 employed. If it succeeds it will be three or four times as 
 large in a few years. To do this it is necessary to put it in 
 the best condition for turning out goods cheaply to intro 
 duce every mechanical invention which will da away with 
 handwork. For instance, ingenious machines fix the heel of 
 a shoe in one movement, cut and sew 4,000 buttonholes in a 
 day, shape the soles, stitch, tack, polish, cut the bits of leather 
 given, etc., without the workmen who look after them being 
 shoemakers. It thus happens that very elegant shoes can be 
 bought at very moderate prices about the same as in Europe. 
 Handwork is paid at a higher rate than with us, for girls earn 
 from $ i .00 to $ i .20 a day ; but the machines make things about 
 equal. Thus, with an average salary of about $2.50 for men 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 187 
 
 and $1.00 to $1.20 for women, ladies shoes can be sold for 
 $3.00 and men s for $3.60 to $5.00. True, the leather has been 
 tanned by a process which burns it, and the shoe, which looks 
 well in the showcase, loses its shape when it is worn, lets in 
 water when it rains, or bursts when it becomes too dry. The 
 American does not seek anything durable, however, and this 
 production suits him. It must be added that a real shoemaker 
 charges $12.00 for a pair of ordinary shoes ; for when one must 
 have handwork he must pay dearly for it, which greatly re 
 duces the number of customers. 
 
 St. Louis and Milwaukee are famous for their breweries. 
 Anheuser-Busch, one of the best makes in the United States, is 
 a St. Louis beer; and Milwaukee has a well-known trade in 
 table-beers. Here, again, we are dealing with a business 
 closely related to agriculture, because of the large quantities 
 of barley it uses ; but the West is far from having a monopoly 
 of brewing, for there are more breweries in Boston than in St. 
 Louis. If they are less spoken of in Boston, it is mainly 
 because they are lost in the midst of the powerful industrial 
 movement which stirs in both the town and country districts 
 of New England. 
 
 The absence of iron industries is a fact which clearly indi 
 cates the embryonic staff of Western manufactures. There 
 was not a single locomotive factory in Chicago in 1890, 
 although it is probably the greatest railroad centre in the 
 world. I was told, as a piece of interesting news and as a sign 
 of considerable progress, that the first factory of this sort was 
 soon to be started. The beds of coal and minerals have hardly 
 been worked yet in the Mississippi Valley, while on the slopes 
 of the Alleghanies there have been enormous quantities of 
 coal and iron mined during the past thirty years. The industry 
 which created Pittsburg and made Philadelphia and New Eng 
 land so important, has developed with prodigious rapidity 
 in this very district ; and there we must go to study this inter 
 esting phase of American life. 
 
 This time we definitely say good-bye to the West. Though 
 we may still borrow a few of its features which are character 
 istic of the national genius, we shall no longer consider the 
 part it plays in the productive activity of the United States. 
 
1 88 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 We practically finished that when we had studied its agricul 
 ture ; for the industrial life, however active it may appear to 
 be there where it does arise, is only a subordinate phase, not 
 an essential element. With a certain measure of truth it may 
 be said that the West is related to the East as certain colonies 
 are to their metropolis. It is the mart whither the East is 
 constantly sending its manufactures in greater quantity, just 
 as India is the great market for Manchester cotton. Of course, 
 I do not mean to compare the two absolutely. This compari 
 son, like every other one, is somewhat lame ; however, it is 
 true enough that the respective situations of the two parts of 
 the United States are at once so different and yet so like, that 
 they offer the most marked contrasts in their economic con 
 ditions, but are animated by the same enterprising spirit, and 
 are beginning to grow more like each other as the progress of 
 colonization reduces the amount of virgin land in the Far 
 West. 
 
 When that happens the unity of America will be revealed 
 with surprising distinctness. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MANUFACTURERS OF THE EAST. THEIR PREDOMI 
 NANCE. UNITY OF TYPE. ABUNDANCE OF COAL AND 
 NATURAL GAS. SOME EXAMPLES OF LARGE FACTORIES. 
 
 I. THEIR PREDOMINANCE. 
 
 In passing through Pennsylvania or New England, especially 
 the latter, one is struck by the marked contrast presented by 
 the various districts. Now one passes through a region almost 
 deserted ; now sloven farms alternate with vast areas of terri 
 tory, half forest, half pasturage ; farm-buildings, partly in ruins, 
 testify at once to the former prosperity of the agricultural 
 industry and to its present collapse ; then, all at once, on 
 rounding a hill, one comes upon a busy valley, its slopes dotted 
 with charming cottages, while at the further end rise the 
 immense blocks of buildings and tall chimneys that tell of the 
 factory. A small town has sprung up around there and has 
 drained the neighboring country of its population. The indus 
 trial life has succeeded the homestead life, and the general 
 aspect of the country bears witness to the transformation. In 
 fact, the Eastern States have undergone a profound change 
 during the last thirty years. Manufactures sprang into exist 
 ence in the East as if by magic, owing to various causes arising 
 out of the Civil War, and settling on the Western prairies put 
 an end to Eastern farming. This is easily understood. If in 
 Europe we have suffered from the competition of Dakota and 
 Minnesota in the production of cereals, how much more 
 would this competition make itself felt in a country near at 
 hand and subject to the American law, which forbids the levy 
 ing of duty, and admits no protective tariffs in the interior. 
 More than this, Massachusetts wheat, sowrt by agricultural 
 
IQO AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 laborers paid $20 a month, put into the same market as wheat 
 from the West, found itself at a greater disadvantage than 
 French wheat produced by labor four or five times cheaper. 
 In other words, the virgin soil of the West was pitted against 
 the exhausted land of the East, without any kind of counter 
 balance. The Americans express this in the brief death-pro 
 nouncing sentence : Farming does not pay in the East. 
 
 Farming not paying, the Yankees wasted no time in lamen 
 tations. Those who wished to continue on the land went 
 where they could work it with profit ; the others turned to 
 manufactures, and the patrimonial domains of New England 
 disappeared. Here and there some representative of the old 
 Puritan families is still to be found, attached by tradition to 
 the home of his fathers and to their ways of life ; but such 
 exceptions are rare. 
 
 Statistics confirm this state of things by proving that the 
 cultivation of wheat has sensibly declined in the East. The 
 States further advanced in the industrial movement, Massa- 
 chussetts, for instance, produce none at all. 
 
 The sole remaining agricultural establishments are the 
 market-garden and the dairy, both of them necessary to sup 
 ply the daily wants of the neighboring towns. In the East, 
 then, farming does not give rise to the towns, as we saw was 
 the case in the West ; it is the towns that maintain what little 
 farming is left. The revolution is complete; the Manufactur 
 ing East is opposed to the Agricultural West. 
 
 We must not lose sight of the fact, however, that represen 
 tatives of the families of New England and of other Eastern 
 States usually are at the head of Western settlements. It 
 would be a grave error to suppose the inhabitants of Massa- 
 chussetts or New York incapable of interesting themselves in 
 agriculture. The reasons which render its pursuit impossible 
 in this part of the United States are due to economic, not to 
 social conditions. These may disappear any day, and we 
 shall discover certain facts favorable to this transformation, 
 what is already foreshadowed. 
 
 Even now one notices in the general habits of the people 
 many evidences of such a tendency. In New York, Boston 
 and Philadelphia, I have often met people engaged in city life 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. IQI 
 
 who owned a small farm which they cultivated for pleasure. 
 A physician, for example, was making experiments on a small 
 property which he was cultivating scientifically with fertilizers, 
 regardless of expense. 
 
 " It costs me more than it brings in," he confessed, " but it 
 is a luxury I allow myself, because I have great natural taste 
 for farming." A lawyer and an agent made me similar confi 
 dences. All these people would probably turn to farming if 
 it paid. 
 
 But the actual situation is altogether in favor of manufac 
 tures. If one were to continue farming in the East, it would 
 be necessary for him to avoid the effects of competition by 
 living frugally on the produce of the land, and be thankful if 
 the year ended without a lack of the necessaries of life. But 
 this does not suit the American. It is all very well for the 
 French-Canadians of the Province of Quebec, in Canada, to 
 whom the price of food is of little moment, and who are con 
 tented with a small and safe fortune. As for the American, he 
 wishes his work to pay, and he quits one calling the moment 
 he sees another that promises to pay better. 
 
 This tendency helps to intensify the economic ups and 
 downs. In the present case it explains the complete tri 
 umph of the industrial workshop over rural occupations, of 
 the factory over the farm. 
 
 The land being thus out of the question, all American life 
 in the East depends on industry. Everything else is accessory; 
 for the trader, the banker, the lawyer, the doctor, the journal 
 ist, etc., are only parasites. They produce nothing directly, 
 but live by rendering services to those who do. In the West 
 their fortune is founded on the development of agriculture ; in 
 the East it depends on the development of manufactures. 
 
 II. UNITY OF TYPE. 
 
 The manufacturing industry is not only dominant in the 
 East, but it has only one form the mill or factory. One can 
 readily see this for himself without many inquiry or any spe 
 cial study of the industry. Enter the first store you come to 
 anywhere in the United States to buy anything whatever, and 
 
IQ2 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 if you wish a highly-finished article, demanding the genuine 
 professional skill of the professional craftsman, you will have 
 much difficulty in finding it ; if you do get it, the price asked 
 will be enough to prove its exceptional character. Uusually 
 it will have been imported from abroad, for the American, 
 rarely an artisan, is still less an artist ; he is a factory-hand, 
 turning out articles by the dozen or the gross. 
 
 Many trades, which, with us, are carried on by master 
 tradesmen, who have served a long apprenticeship, are scarcely 
 known in the United States. The processes they employ, de 
 manding much handwork, would be very costly here, owing 
 to the price of hand-labor, and, consequently, they could be 
 applied only to articles of luxury, which it is easier to import 
 from Europe. When speaking of the West I showed how the 
 shoe-factory tended to drive out the shoemaker. It is the 
 same with the saddler, the harnessmaker, the coachbuilder, 
 the sailor, the carpenter, the blacksmith, the plumber, and 
 even the watchmaker, the goldsmith and the jeweller, who 
 might have been expected to escape this fate of absorption. 
 There are harness-factories, buggy-factories, factories for ready- 
 made clothing, where the sewing-machines are driven by 
 steam ; factories for doors, windows, farming-implements, 
 watches, plate, etc.. etc. 
 
 Unlike farming, which takes many forms, manufacturing in 
 the United States has but one ; it develops in colossal estab 
 lishments, requiring considerable capital and employing many 
 hands. 
 
 This is an important fact. It dominates the whole industrial 
 regime of the United States. It is due to several causes, of 
 which the following are the most salient : 
 
 Firstly, the dearness of hand-labor, with the result which I 
 have shown above. Nothing gives a stronger impetus to ma 
 chinery than the necessity for new inventions to answer pro 
 duction at a cheaper rate. This condition, coupled with the 
 restless, inquiring disposition of the American Nation, must end 
 fatally in excess of mechanism, and, as a consequence, we have 
 the enormous factory. 
 
 Secondly, the American workmen are chiefly Europeans who 
 have crossed the Atlantic in search of fortune, not knowing 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 193 
 
 how it was to be attained, and possessing no craftsmanship. 
 What such people want is a mechanical tool to direct, some de 
 tail easy to supervise, and not a whole to execute. The great 
 factory, with machines of every construction permitting ex 
 treme division of labor, and reducing apprenticeship to a mini 
 mum, suits them admirably. As to the native Americans, they 
 are equally suited by industrial organization which admits fre 
 quent changes of employment without this perpetual coming 
 and going being followed by disastrous results. This agrees 
 with their conception of life ; they have a horror of a career of 
 which they see the end on entering it. They wish to modify 
 the employment of their activity according to circumstances. 
 Buyers, indeed, might demand finer workmanship and more 
 originality than the factory article offers, but they never dream 
 of such a thing. They are not fastidious ; taste does not come 
 into play ; ostentatious luxury, comfort that makes a show 
 these are what they love, and not discreet and elegant refine 
 ment. Machines can satisfy such tastes, and so they find new 
 allies in the buyers. Finally, the customers are widely spread, 
 which is also favorable to the manufacturing domination. A 
 few miles from Boston I saw boots at $2.00 a pair, manufactured 
 for the negroes of the South and the colonists of the West. 
 A man skillful enough to turn out a similar pair of boots at 
 $1.50 would be almost certain of a rapid sale for his goods, as 
 his factory would have a monopoly of the trade with the South 
 ern negroes and the Western settlers. 
 
 Ill THE ABUNDANCE OF COAL AND NATURAL GAS. 
 
 The richness of the coal deposits is yet another factor to be 
 considered in accounting for the great leap of the United 
 States into industrial activity. The basin of the Apalaches, 
 which runs along the Western base of the chain and extends 
 through Pennsylvania, Virginia, Tennessee and Alabama, con 
 tains immense mineral resources, partly unexploited. Until 
 now Pennsylvania almost alone has yielded any of its treasures. 
 Virginia, Tennessee and Alabama are still suffering from the 
 crushing effects of the Civil War ; they are peopled by a less 
 active and less enterprising race, that has not sunk mines, and 
 
194 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 it would need the capital of New England to render their 
 natural riches available. Doubtless this will be speedily forh- 
 coming. 
 
 We must turn to Pennsylvania, then, to get an idea of the 
 influence of abundance of coal in developing manufactures. 
 There are many mining districts which find the great industries 
 of Philadelphia, of New York State and of many other centres, 
 more or less distant. Pittsburg and its environs are the most 
 remarkable of all, for there mining and manufacturing have 
 developed side by side. " The celebrated coal bed of Pitts- 
 burg, " says M. de Lapparent, in his "Treatise on Geology" 
 (page 7/6), " extends uninterruptedly, with a varying thickness 
 of from one to three yards, across a territory not less in area 
 than 226 miles by 100. The outcrop of the bed follows the 
 course of the River Monongahela for a very long way, and so it 
 is specially easy to work. " This explains how the whole 
 country has been transformed within forty years. Not only has 
 Pittsburg increased to 200,000 inhabitants in a few years, but 
 other towns have grown up beside her, all grouped around the 
 same works and depending on them alone for support. Such 
 are the young cities of Alleghany, in reality a suburb of Pitts 
 burg ; Mansfield, Monongahela City, Braddock, Edgar, etc. 
 
 I arrived at Pittsburg at night, having come from the East 
 by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and I shall never forget 
 the extraordinary impression this journey made upon me. 
 Especially after Connelsville, the horizon was illuminated every 
 minute by the vivid brightness of long rows of coke-ovens, 
 which gleamed from afar in the surrounding darkness ; while 
 floods of brilliant sparks showering from a foundry produced 
 the illusion of a great fire. The track ran along the bank of 
 the River Youghiogheny, one of the upper affluents of the 
 Ohio, and the reflexion of the fires in its waters increased the 
 weirdness of the scene. At way-stations the little towns were 
 illuminated by great torches, burning with a long yellow flame, 
 which gave a peculiar appearance to neighboring persons and 
 objects. That was my first sight of natural gas, whose recent 
 discovery has so greatly enhanced the prosperity of Pittsburg. 
 
 This natural gas is a kind of petroleum in a gaseous state. 
 " We believe," an engineer of the Philadelphia Gas Company 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 195 
 
 said to me, " that natural gas is an exhalation from petroleum ; 
 or, if you prefer it, that petroleum is condensed natural gas." 
 
 It is usually found at* a dept of from 1,500 to 3,300 feet be 
 low the surface. Very narrow shafts are drilled by steam- 
 power, and each time the borer has to be renewed the work 
 men carefully examine the adhering sand, and from its nature 
 they infer with certainty whether or not they are near a 
 stratum of gas. The gas, owing to its great lightness, rises to 
 the surface whenever a connection is made to the open air; 
 and nothing more has to be done except to lay the pipes, which 
 will carry it where it is needed. This well is a gas-work pro 
 vided by nature. 
 
 Mr. George Westinghouse, universally known as the inven 
 tor of the compressed air-brake used on the railroads, was the 
 first to utilize natural gas in the Pittsburg district. To-day the 
 Philadelphia company of which he is president distributes 
 more than 400,000,000 cubic feet per day convincing proof of 
 the worth of his idea. 
 
 At the present moment it is natural gas that supplies all the 
 motive power necessary for the industries of Pittsburg. In the 
 first place, the town has a less sombre aspect ; it is no longer 
 the " Smoky Town," a name well-deserved from its being con 
 stantly shrouded in thick clouds of black smoke belched forth 
 from the numerous chimneys of its works. The combustion 
 of natural gas gives off incomparably finer smoke than pit coal 
 an important point as regards health and cleanliness, and a 
 precious boon to the people of Pittsburg. Secondly, hand- 
 labor is economized. Instead of a dozen men, naked to the 
 waist, continually shovelling coals into the grates, one man 
 can now overlook several. He seats himself near the boilers, 
 leisurely reads his paper, rising only from time to time to reg 
 ulate the consumption of gas, to keep the temperature even. 
 With a little care this can be done to perfection, for by turning 
 a simple key, the quantity of gas and the resultant heat can be 
 lessened or increased at will. With coal only an increase can 
 be made, for one can throw more on, but one cannot take any 
 off. Finally, storage space for coal is not needed. Add to this 
 that when natural gas is used, no important alterations in the 
 construction of the boilers is needed, and you will understand 
 
196 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 how it has taken the place of coal everywhere when found 
 near enough. 
 
 The gas consumed in the Pittsburg works comes about nine 
 teen miles, and is led in cast-iron pipes usually placed on a 
 level with the ground. The Americans do not like useless 
 complications, and they think it is better to run the risk of a 
 few accidents, than to fetter the free exercise of a profitable 
 industry. That was the reason the proprietor of a gas shaft 
 gave me, when I expressed my astonishment at seeing his pipes 
 laid across a field of clover. If a narrow valley has to be 
 crossed, the pipes are sometimes laid on a light wooden 
 frame-work. But this is not from prudential reasons ; but when 
 the wooden frame-work is used it prevents a siphon being 
 formed and saves piping, that is all. 
 
 By such cheap and simple means, Westinghouse can supply 
 natural gas to the manufacturers of Pittsburg at five cents per 
 hundred cubic feet. It is calculated that 1,000 cubic feet of 
 gas give a heat equal to that produced by eighty-two pounds 
 of Pittsburg coal. The gas has thus the advantage of being 
 cheap. 
 
 The introduction of natural gas has stimulated the already 
 active works of Pittsburg to still greater activity. The ques 
 tion is, how long will this marvelous natural wealth last? 
 Certain shafts that were very productive five or six years ago 
 are now almost exhausted ; the supply from others has dimi 
 nished, owing to the sinking of neighboring shafts which feed 
 at the same source. It is, therefore, impossible to foresee the 
 future of natural gas in the development of American indus 
 tries. In the meantime it brings in handsome profits to the 
 companies that exploit it, and the great manufacturer of Pitts 
 burg, Mr. Andrew Carneggie, for example, has secured the 
 proprietorship of a certain amount of territory in the gas field, 
 in order to supply himself with gas for his works. Should 
 these be quickly exhausted, the coal still remains. 
 
 IV. SOME LARGE FACTORIES. 
 
 In this favored place factories spring up as by enchant 
 ment ; machinery has reached its highest development, for in 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. IQ7 
 
 Pittsburg we find inventors of world-wide reputation. I have 
 already mentioned Mr. Westinghouse ; Edison has one of his 
 principal electrical establishments in Pittsburg. But the king 
 of the town is Mr. Andrew Carneggie, the iron-master and 
 arch-millionaire, who, it is said, landed in the United States 
 twenty years ago with twenty-five dollars in his pocket. In 
 one of his establishments, near Pittsburg, he employs 4,000 
 workmen and produces 1,400 tons of steel-rails a day. 
 
 These industries are sure of a great body of customers in 
 the numerous railroads that cover the surface of the Union, 
 and it is their importance that explains the gigantic Pittsburg 
 shops, as it explains Pullman at Chicago. The rapidity with 
 which they have been constructed explains the rapidity of 
 Pittsburgh growth. They are co-related phenomena. At 
 Philadelphia I visited the immense Baldwin Locomotive 
 Works. They occupy six enormous blocks, and can turn out 
 five complete locomotives daily ; they employ 3,000 persons 
 receiving on an average more than $2.00 a day. Many 
 of the workmen are trained, having worked in these 
 works from boyhood. In going through the work-shops 
 I saw youths of not more than fifteen years who had 
 begun their apprenticeship, and who would subsequently 
 rise to earn large salaries. These boys are paid also, and 
 their earnings are reckoned in the average of $2.13 a day, 
 as was mentioned to me. Owing to the nature of the work 
 most of the handwork is paid by the piece, and certain 
 workmen make as much as $4 a day. 
 
 The history of the firm of Baldwin, now managed by three 
 partners, Messrs. Burnham, Parry & Williams, is very curious. 
 Mr. Mathias Baldwin, its founder, a native of New Jersey, was 
 a goldsmith and jeweller in his youth. This did not prevent 
 him from joining a certain David Mason in the manufacture of 
 cylinders for printing calico. As the enterprise developed, 
 steam was introduced as a motive power, and Baldwin, dis 
 satisfied with a steam-engine he had bought, imagined he could 
 construct one better adapted to the purpose. He succeeded 
 perfectly in this attempt, and this success gave him the idea of 
 applying the special aptitude for the construction of steam 
 engines, which he found he possessed, to locomotive building. 
 
198 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 This is one example among many of the way in which the 
 most celebrated manufacturers of America have begun business. 
 In this respect I believe Europe resembles America. The 
 great works I saw were not started by engineers who had had 
 fifteen years of professional study. Neither Baldwin nor 
 Carneggie nor Westinghouse was destined by his family to 
 become a savant. They did not spend their youth before 
 blackboards, solving scientific problems; but at the age of fif 
 teen or sixteen were placed face to face with the practical 
 problems that arise in business. They have since invented 
 simpler methods to attain some determined end, and have 
 mastered the necessary knowledge as they needed it. What 
 is remarkable in them is that they possess the faculty of or 
 ganization along with the faculty of invention. Mr. Westing- 
 house, for example, has taken out sixty-six patents for the 
 construction of his compressed air-brake. Sixty-six times he 
 has made an improvement sufficiently important to rank as a 
 useful discovery. But he is not a laboratory inventor ; he is the 
 head of a manufacturing-house and manager of his works at 
 Pittsburg, finding time to exploit natural gas, besides being 
 obliged to face all the economic and social difficulties that 
 crop up in such great enterprises. 
 
 I visited the works of Mr. Carneggie in the company of a 
 youth of sixteen who was already initiated in the great busi 
 ness of the house and who was serving his apprenticeship to 
 the business. Though a mere boy in appearance, his conver 
 sation gave evidence of precocious maturity. On our way to 
 the works we chatted on a variety of subjects, and he questioned 
 me regarding the habits of young men in France, their tastes 
 and their aspirations. His questions were sensible and weighty, 
 and my patriotism was sometimes hard pressed in replying. 
 When I had satisfied his curiosity, he said : " I see how it is 
 young Frenchmen are like the fellows I met in Washington, 
 an easy going sort of people." He did not long for an easy 
 life, but for activity, and his youthful enthusiasm kindled in 
 the most artless way when I spoke of the wonderful career of his 
 master, Carneggie, or of some other well-known Pittsburg man. 
 Such men are splendid specimens of humanity, heroes in the 
 battle of life, who ennoble their great wealth by the use they 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 199 
 
 make of it ; who never believe that they have earned the right 
 to repose, to enjoy the fruits of their toil ; but who march on 
 till death, as if called to pursue an end always in front, no mat 
 ter how far they advance. Not only do they not amass to en 
 joy, but they show themselves generous and full of solicitude 
 for those of humbler station. At Pittsburg, Mr. Carneggie has 
 recently founded a public library, which he has magnificently 
 endowed to the extent of $350,000, as well as giving it securi 
 ties which bring in a perpetual annual income of $50,000. He 
 wishes that all Pittsburg workmen should find the meanso f in 
 tellectual improvement there; this is, doubtless, indirect pa 
 tronage, but it is very American. No compulsion is exer 
 cised ; one simply places within the reach of those who wish 
 to rise what will aid them in so doing. 
 
 At the Baldwin Locomotive Works I was shown a cheap 
 restaurant, established by the " Neighborhood Guild Associa 
 tion," for letting workmen dine in the middle of the day with 
 out going home, thereby saving time and saving them from the 
 mercy of the neighboring cookshops. I copied the bill-of-fare 
 for the day I was there, and I give it here for your information. 
 I may add that the cleanliness was perfect, what you do not 
 generally find in a German restaurant serving the following 
 repast for fifteen cents : 
 
 Roast Beef or Roast Lamb ; 
 
 Vegetables and Soup ; 
 
 Coffee, Tea or Milk; 
 
 Bread and Butter. 
 
 Those not satisfied with the above could have the following 
 extras: 
 
 Soup, 3 cents; 
 
 Pastry, 5 cents; 
 
 Rice-Pudding, 5 cents; 
 
 Coffee, Tea or Milk, 3 cents ; 
 
 Coffee, Bread and Butter, 5 cents. 
 
 The American employers do not try to advance the material 
 and moral wellbeing of their workmen by institutions of this 
 kind; the men are too jealous of their independence not to 
 
200 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 resent such direct patronage, and the manufacturers, occupied 
 with grave affairs, rarely descend to such details, although some 
 encourage all efforts in this direction as much as possible. It 
 is so at the Baldwin Works. In their immediate neighborhood 
 rises the establishment of William Sellers & Co., employing only 
 from 500 to 700 workmen. Here the finest iron and steel-work 
 is executed. Almost all the new machines are constructed in 
 these workshops, as well as many delicate instruments of the 
 utmost precision ; and though the stock of tools is excessively 
 complicated, the work of each individual is, nevertheless, of 
 amazing simplicity ; still only experienced workmen are em 
 ployed here. The manager explained that no man is admitted 
 to the works under twenty-one, except as an apprentice. Ob 
 viously, here is a very exceptional industry for the United 
 States. This is not an occupation that one can quit and take 
 up at will ; it is a genuine handicraft. Several workmen, the 
 manager told me, had never worked elsewhere, but remained 
 with the firm because of their specialism. 
 
 Alongside the iron industry, which ranks first in Philadel 
 phia, without entirely absorbing it, as at Pittsburg, are the 
 textile industries, manufactures of cloths, carpets, shoes ; sugar- 
 refineries, breweries ; and here reappears the instability so 
 characteristic of the American industrial workman. The 
 Americans themselves recognize it. "The most striking pecu 
 liarity that characterizes the factory workman of Philadelphia," 
 says Mr. Lorin Blodget, the eminent statistician of the town, 
 " is the ease with which he passes from one employment to an 
 other. ! 
 
 The large number of works in Philadelphia helps to exag 
 gerate this tendency still more ; for, without changing his 
 abode, a man can run through a whole series of diverse indus 
 tries, according to the whim of the moment. 
 
 One of the most important factories for textile fabrics in 
 Philadelphia is that of Mr. Dobson, situated near the Schuyl- 
 kill Falls, on the borders of Fairmount Park. He employs 
 5,000 hands, nearly half of whom are women and children. 
 The wages are very high ; I am told on an average the 
 
 I "The Industries of Philadelphia ; " p. 31. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2OI 
 
 children receive $I.OO a day, and the less skilful have $4.00 a 
 week ; while the women can earn as much as $2.00 a day. That 
 is about the average pay of the young girls I saw working in 
 the " pattern-room," where the coloring and correctness of 
 carpet designs are tested by comparison with the model, and 
 by the actual counting of threads. After some practice, the 
 girls know the different patterns by heart and get through 
 their work with great rapidity. One sees that even in 
 the case of women, high wages do not always imply special 
 skill. Men make from $3 to $4 a day. They do not have 
 separate workrooms ; everywhere we find them working in the 
 same room along with women and children, without its lead 
 ing to any serious inconvenience from a moral point of view. 
 Accustomed to attend mixed schools, trained from his in 
 fancy to regard woman as a being worthy of every consider 
 ation, the American associates with young girls in the daily 
 contact of the workroom without danger. Besides, the exi 
 gencies of the work make this mixing of the sexes almost 
 inevitable. In France, where it has often evil effects, one can 
 seldom avoid it, except in certain special industries. 
 
 I do not wish needlessly to continue the enumeration of the 
 factories I had occasion to visit. It enters neither into my 
 plan, nor is it in my power to give a technical description of 
 them ; but I have merely indicated to the reader the consider 
 able importance which they generally attain. Notwithstanding 
 this, they are mostly the property of a few individuals. I 
 have seen one foundry that paid $200,000 monthly in wages,, 
 implying corresponding outlay for general expenditures, pur 
 chase of raw material, etc., and this, foundry, as well as the 
 mines, the supply of natural gas and other accessories, was in 
 the hands of seven partners. 
 
 But it does not follow that corporations are never formed 
 for the promotion of industrial enterprise. They do exist ;; 
 often, however, they are controlled by one large shareholder,, 
 who is practically master of the business. The Bureau of 
 Labor Statistics in Massachusetts has published interesting 
 documents on this subject, according to which 924 establish 
 ments in this State were in the hands of private firms and 440 
 were managed by corporations. The figures of 1889 show a 
 slight increase in the number of the latter. 
 
202 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 The rise and development of the great manufactures in the 
 East have brought about quite a revolution in the social con 
 dition of the majority of the citizens. Formerly not more 
 than fifty years ago the nation, almost entirely agricultural, 
 numbered chiefly independent proprietors, a few tenants, a few 
 rich men and many farmers. Such was New England in those 
 days. We have seen something analogous in regions of certain 
 Western States. Ownership was the rule. 
 
 With the advent of the great industrial system, ownership 
 has become rare; it belongs to the few. One single individual 
 can direct several hundreds, often several thousands of work 
 men, and these are so many lives dependent upon him. That 
 the men may be as certain of their wages as they formerly 
 were of the produce of their lands, demands the concurrence 
 of very many conditions. Foremost among these is the estab 
 lishment of a labor-market ; the rate of wages must be agreed 
 upon by all parties concerned, otherwise the factory system 
 cannot exist ; nor must this arrangement be disturbed, as it 
 involves stoppage of work and precipitates a crisis. 
 
 The Labor Question has arisen with its menacing problems. 
 We shall see how they attempt to solve it in the United 
 States. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE LABOR QUESTION. SIGNS OF MISERY. SIGNS OF 
 WELLBEING. WHENCE COMES THE CONTRAST ? 
 
 Like most human affairs and like all complicated problems, 
 the Labor Question presents varied aspects, according to the 
 different industries that are studied and the workmen that are 
 observed. It is clear, for example, that on returning from 
 Pullman City one is conscious of being favorably impressed ; 
 whereas, in visiting certain quarters of New York, on the East 
 side of the city, the heart is veritably torn with anguish. Time 
 must be given for these emotions to subside ere one can judge 
 calmly; in any case it is essential to guard against forming a 
 dogmatic opinion. For the sake of order and clearness, I have 
 classified my observations under two heads which sum up their 
 opposite character, the one group revealing a great amount of 
 misery among the working-classes, the other evidencing their 
 undoubted prosperity ; and I shall afterwards try to point out 
 how these two opposing elements seem to be distributed and 
 what is their importance ; but, I repeat, I only give mere indi 
 cations to the reader. 
 
 I. SIGNS OF MISERY. 
 
 There is one that cannot be ignored ; it is the greatest of all : 
 I refer to strikes. There are always frequent disputes between 
 American masters and men in the labor-market, which is indis- 
 pensible to the working of the factory system. 
 
 Mr. Carroll D. Wright, Labor Commissioner, shows in 
 statistics published at Washington in 1887, for the period of 
 six years, 1881-86, the enormous number of 22,204 strikes. 
 Twenty-two thousand three hundred and four times workmen 
 
204 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 combined to stop the works ; on the other hand, 2,2 14 times the 
 masters had recourse to a " lock-out, " making a total of nearly 
 25,000 crises, when the working classes were deprived of the 
 means of existence at very short notice. That is to say, strikes 
 are of daily occurrence in America ; they have even attained a 
 rare degree of perfection, and they are sometimes complicated 
 by " boycotting" or placing the master in quarantine. No 
 communication is held with him until he has ceded such and 
 such a point ; nothing is bought from the tradesmen who sell 
 his goods, nor is anything bought from those with whom he 
 has contracts; in a word, he is sternly ostracised. A few years 
 ago the Neiv York Tribune had a dispute with its printers. 
 These caused the workmen s " union " to which they belonged 
 to " boycott" the journal; that is to say, all the members were 
 forbidden to buy it. At the same time, the union " boy 
 cotted " several commercial houses that advertised in the 
 Tribune. The pressure was powerful enough to compel the 
 submission of a large ready-made clothing establishment which 
 had been singled out as the first victim ; the Royal Baking 
 Powder Company and several other well-known establishments 
 were also forced to withdraw their announcements from the 
 New York Tribune. I cite these facts to give an idea of the 
 degree of persecution to which well-conducted " boycotting " 
 may attain. 
 
 For some years strikes have been fewer, and the difficulties 
 that arise between the masters and men have been settled by 
 arbitration. Most of the workmen s associations act in this 
 spirit, notably the " Knights of Labor," a powerful organization, 
 numbering more than 100,000 members. In several cases the 
 masters have accepted the Executive Council of this society 
 as umpire. 1 The working-class in America is generally more 
 enlightened than the same class in Europe. It has been quick 
 to recognize that " striking" and "boycotting" are injurious to 
 its own interests ; it shows a very sincere desire to secure the 
 representation of its grievances in a manner at once calmer 
 and more efficacious, and the innumerable associations which 
 it forms under different names are simply the manifestation of 
 
 i. " The Labor Movement in America," by Richard T. Ely ; New York, Thomas 
 V. Crowell & Co.; p. 85. Also Article 22 of the Statutes of the Knights of Labor. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2O5 
 
 this desire. Doubtless, some of them have a socialistic and 
 revolutionary tendency, which misleads public opinion ; but 
 these are exceptions, and they are disappearing. When the 
 Knights of Labor constituted themselves as a secret society at 
 Philadelphia, their growing power spread alarm throughout 
 the whole population ; their badge of five stars was almost an 
 object of terror to many people. The clergy of the Catholic 
 and Protestant churches united to fight this mysterious enemy, 
 when Mr. Powderly, a man of great sense, succeeded in getting 
 himself nominated Grandmaster of the Association and dissi 
 pated all these apprehensions by publishing its aims and its 
 statutes. At the present day, it is not included among secret 
 societies denounced by the Catholic ecclesiastical authority. 
 However that may be, the very fact of the workmen having 
 created an organization to guard against the insecurity of 
 their situation denotes the extent of that insecurity. There 
 was no need for associating themselves to secure a juster dis 
 tribution of the products of labor in the days when the Eastern 
 States were almost exclusively agricultural and peopled by 
 landowners. If demagogic passions come less into play here 
 than in Europe in the matter of strikes and other forms of 
 disputes between masters and men, it is because it is a labor 
 controversy and nothing more, a contest about the contract 
 which unites the two parties, and not any extraneous question 
 brought up by a few agitators. I was in Chicago in 1890, at 
 the time when 50,000 workmen were on strike. No stranger 
 visiting the town would have had the idea that such was the 
 case except from reading the newspapers. There were no 
 street riots, no barricades, no flags flying nor any armed force 
 patroling the thoroughfares, and with good reason. The 
 strikers held meetings to consult about what was to be done, 
 as seriously as clergymen explain the interest of the congrega 
 tion to the members of their flock. Evidently, these men had 
 not " struck" out of mere peevishness or caprice, or to offer 
 opposition to the Government. They had motives for acting 
 thus, and it was a very serious disagreement that had pushed 
 matters to this extremity. 
 
 The question of an eight-hour day was then pending. I 
 shall not go into details ; suffice to say that in many industries 
 
206 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 the working-day is still ten hours long, and it was thus a re 
 duction of two hours that was being demanded. 
 
 A claim for reduced hours or for a rise in wages is usually 
 at the bottom of most strikes; but at other times the 
 employers provoke them by the unjustifiable dismissal of a 
 workman who is a member of some powerful association, or by 
 the necessity of limiting their production when trade is dull. 
 Such reasons are frequent enough, as statistics prove, and they 
 are quite beyond the control of any one individual. 
 
 In assuming, therefore, that the workmen s unions, and the 
 good sense of those who manage them, are ever striving to 
 place the relations of capital and labor on a more friendly foot 
 ing, it is none the less true that in the course of events num 
 berless difficulties arise which have an opposite tendency. We 
 may seek to weaken these, but it would be childish to deny 
 them. 
 
 Now these difficulties make themselves known by suffering. 
 In the large towns of the East, numbers of the destitute fall to 
 the care of public charity; and in Boston and New York espe 
 cially, the misery is as great as in London or Paris. In Phila 
 delphia, which is decidedly the most prosperous of American 
 manufacturing cities, the total number of the paupers and cri 
 minals is one-half per cent of the population, whilst in Massa 
 chusetts, during the disastrous Winter of 18/6-77, one person 
 in nineteen was receiving aid. 
 
 There are two main causes which increase the misery of the 
 working-class ; these are extravagant habits and over-education. 
 The American is not thrifty ; he lives well and regards simple 
 habits as mean. " In one generation or two at the most," said 
 Mr. Lorin Blodget to me, " the good thrifty habits which many 
 of our workmen bring from Europe completely disappear ; they 
 are no longer capable of becoming rich, because they no longer 
 know how to save." A foreman in Dobson s factory, a young 
 Englishman, who had recently come over from Norfolk, made 
 a similar remark : " The Yankees are terrible spend-thrifts ; 
 they waste money." "They love ease too much?" "No, it 
 is not exactly that ; but where I spend two or three shillings, 
 they spend a dollar." Everywhere I asked I had these state 
 ments confirmed. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2O/ 
 
 Not only does the Yankee not save, but he is gradually leav 
 ing manuel trades to seek what are, in his eye, higher situa 
 tions, to become the clerk for which his free schooling naturally 
 prepares him. This is especially true at New York. " When 
 I need a clerk," said a stock-broker of that city, " I am always 
 sure to find twenty to choose from; so we give them very small 
 salaries. While a good artisan, carpenter, mason, plumber, 
 etc., makes $4.00 a day, we give $200 a year to an errand-boy 
 and $500 a year to an ordinary clerk. A first-rate accountant 
 receives only $1,400 to $1,600 a year, no matter what his ex 
 perience may be ; and if a master sometimes does give a man 
 a larger salary, it is because of the great responsibility of the 
 position he fills and in order to keep away too great tempta 
 tions ; but it is as a confidential man, as proxy, and not as 
 bookkeeper that he is paid so highly." 
 
 This is a kind of declassing which one who had lived for 
 some time in the West would not expect to find ; but, never 
 theless, it exists, and many people have pointed it out to me 
 in the great cities of the East. A Philadelphia lady, who is 
 president of a society for promoting silk-worm breeding, told 
 me the difficulties she encountered in her patriotic efforts. 
 "Americans know too much, and don t know enough at the 
 same time at least those who do not manage to raise them 
 selves above the laboring-classes. They have had too much 
 learning for the crafts they might follow but despise ; they 
 know nothing about a host of things that would be useful to 
 them, and rebel against the apprenticeship of industries that 
 need some care and skill. Because of this, we rarely find 
 people inclined to second our efforts for breeding silk-worms. 
 Minute precautions have to be taken to ensure success, and 
 despite the large profits that might be made, that does not ex 
 actly lead to fortune. These two conditions are almost insur 
 mountable barriers for our people, at once careless of detail yet 
 ambitious." 
 
 In other words, the American is not made in view of the 
 narrow life which is necessarily the lot of the laboring-class. If 
 he does not rise to the top of the tree, he never readily consents 
 to stay on the ground ; he cannot settle in a modest way as a 
 Frenchman, German or Italian. This is a social danger which 
 
208 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 makes the times of industrial crisis so very hard in the United 
 States. When families accustomed to extravagant expenditure 
 are all at once deprived of their wages, they suffer much more 
 than the thrifty workman of certain European countries. 
 
 With all his high aspirations the worker in the East is often 
 as badly housed as those of London or Paris. The sadest-look- 
 ing workmen s dwellings in American cities are to be found in 
 New York and Boston. 
 
 The great overcrowding of New York, overflowing into 
 Brooklyn and Jersey City, combined with the squeezing of the 
 city into the narrow limits of Manhattan Island, has raised the 
 price of land to such an extreme height that the workman 
 cannot own his home. Hence the great blocks of dwellings, 
 somewhat like our Parisian barracks, where families are 
 huddled, one above the other, in small rooms, without air and 
 often without light. These tenement-houses, as they are 
 called, are very objectionable to the American, loving liberty 
 and independence of movement ; but they are imposed upon 
 him here for the reason I have given. They suffer in them, 
 but endure. 
 
 Sometimes these tenements not only lodge the workers, but 
 are also dressmakers work-shops, cigar-manufactories, etc., in 
 which unhappy creatures usually women work by the piece 
 for the merchants of the city. One can see the women work 
 ing in small rooms of a hundred square feet, hardly ventilated 
 and badly lighted, making elegant mantles, and striving to spin 
 out their work-day to fifteen or sixteen hours, in order to earn 
 scarcely 60 cents a day ; and 60 cents in New York are equal to 
 thirty sous in Paris at the most. The wages is thus the lowest 
 possible, and the unhealthiness of the work-rooms deplorable. 
 The great factories, even those supposed to be unhealthy, are 
 never so bad as these miserable tenement-house work-rooms. 
 
 At Boston the evil is not so great, because industry is not 
 so developed there as it is in New York ; but the workman is 
 condemned to live in tenement-houses. Everything is very 
 dear in Boston, building-lots like other things. It is thus 
 impossible to avoid unhealthy crowding unless by paying a 
 very high rent. Even in suburbs far from the centre of the 
 city one sees the six-story tenement where the workmen and 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2OQ 
 
 their families are packed; and close at hand charming residences, 
 surrounded by little parks, and buried in green. Even three 
 or four miles from Boston a building-lot is expensive. Of 
 course, plenty of capitalists can buy themselves a park by pay 
 ing for it, but the square yards of land they purchase to cover 
 with turf and plant with trees are much too expensive for the 
 workman to buy in order to build himself a modest house. 
 
 It is more surprising to find such crowding in much smaller 
 towns. At Fall River, Mass., few of the workmen own their 
 homes, and the houses have the same appearance as certain 
 parts of Boston and New York. 
 
 Add to all the various material and moral disadvantages aris 
 ing from this condition of affairs the specially trying nature 
 of the American climate ! Summer is insupportable in New 
 York, and rich people know it well, for they hurry off as often 
 as they can to the nearest mountains the Adirondacks ; or 
 they rush across the Atlantic to enjoy the temperate weather 
 of Western Europe for a few weeks. From June, a moist 
 heat reigns at times which seems to suffocate one much more 
 than the hottest August days in Paris. I have felt this my 
 self in a large-sized room. Imagine what it must be in the 
 narrow lodgings of the workingmen ! 
 
 These few facts do not show the extent of my inquiries, but 
 they are enough to put the reader on his guard against certain 
 too optimistic views of the condition of American workmen. 
 It is deceiving the public to say that all live at ease ; but it 
 would be just as deceptive to lead people to believe that 
 America does not offer greater opportunities than Europe to 
 those who wish to raise themselves. To prove this, it is 
 enough to visit some great manufacturing cities, and Philadel 
 phia holds the first place among them. 
 
 II. SIGNS OF WELLBEING- 
 
 Philadelphia, whose population is over a million, deserves 
 its charasteristic name of the " City of Homes." It is also 
 called the " Workingman s Paradise," but American brag is so 
 boundless that such a lauditory term must be taken with a 
 grain of salt. It is necessary to discover the facts on which 
 
210 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 it is based. A single walk through the streets is enough to 
 draw the stranger s attention to the extraordinary number of 
 little brick-houses. These buildings, which are usually low, 
 make the streets seem broader and make a great contrast to 
 the narrow streets and high houses of old European cities. If 
 you ask a Philadelphian who are the people who live in these 
 houses, he answers, with a proud smile, " Oh ! these are the 
 houses of our workmen ;" and he often cannot resist the pleas 
 ure of adding, u I suppose you have nothing like these in 
 Paris or London?" It must be admitted that there is nothing 
 like it in any great European city. Three-fourths of the 
 workmen of Philadelphia live in houses that belong to them, 
 and almost all live in separate dwellings; those who do not 
 own one rent one. The deplorable tenement-house system 
 is unknown there. 
 
 That may be because Philadelphia was the first large town in 
 the United States where the industry developed. From 1849 
 there has been a question of workmen s dwellings; and by 
 1865 societies for helping to build them were in full operation. 
 Further, Philadelphia, much less cosmopolitan than New York, 
 especially at that time, was deeply imbued with the old custom 
 of family independence, natural in the colony of William Penn. 
 When the Philadelphia families became urban and manufacturing 
 they preserved somewhat of their rural and agricultural charac 
 ter. They were obliged to sacrifice the freedom of their work 
 room in hiring themselves to some employer, but they did not 
 give up the independence of their home. Add to this first 
 cause the fact that the situation of Philadelphia allows it to 
 spread out in all directions, and you have the key to the prob 
 lem. It is sometimes explained by saying that building asso 
 ciations were formed at a much earlier date in Philadelphia 
 than elsewhere ; but the real problem is to explain the rise and 
 the rapid development of these associations. It is enough to 
 explain their organization to show that every sort of people 
 could not start them. 
 
 But, first of all, let me remove a possible misconception. 
 Societies for the amelioration of workmen s dwellings have 
 existed in several industrial centres of France for some years, 
 under different names and with certain differences in detail ; 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 211 
 
 but all have the one common character of being benevolent in 
 stitutions, managed in the usual way, either by large manu 
 facturers interested in their workmen, or by people attracted by 
 this great social question. In the United States in general 
 and in Philadelphia in particular it is quite different. The 
 building societies are business and not charitable concerns, and 
 must pay, like a railroad or farm, or else they are given up ; 
 their success alone determines their existence. 
 
 Let us study the ordinary forms of these societies, which are 
 of two main types. The first is managed by three or four peo 
 ple ; for instance, a landowner, a contractor and a capitalist club 
 to build a dozen workmen s houses; then each is paid by taking 
 a certain number of the houses proportional to his share of the 
 capital, and sells or lets them at his own risk. This is the less 
 interesting type, but it has played an important part in the 
 history of workmen s dwellings in Philadelphia, for it has 
 allowed the small contractors to keep on building in slack times ; 
 and the ease of an equitable division among the associates has 
 encouraged the landowners and the capitalists to accept this 
 combination. 
 
 The second variety, much more widely spread, is that which 
 has been of greatest service in letting the workingmen become 
 owners of their homes. It is a great attempt to make use of 
 the workmen s savings for building their houses. The name 
 usually taken by societies of this sort is "Loan and Building 
 Association." It is a bank using its funds for a special object, 
 but also a mutual society formed by the people who wish to 
 make use of it. The money comes from workmen s savings, 
 carried there instead of to a savings-bank. When a deposit 
 reaches a sufficiently large sum, which varies with the society 
 but is always a small amount, the depositor can borrow from 
 the society the money needed for buying ground with a house 
 on it, or for building the house after his own taste ; the loan 
 is at once secured by a mortgage on the house and land, and 
 is repaid by annual instalments until the workman becomes 
 the true owner of his home. 
 
 These societies have had an undoubted effect in raising the 
 moral and social tone of the working-classes ; but they could 
 not have come into existence had not a picked population 
 
212 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 been in existence. They have developed in the immigrants of 
 all sorts a taste for home and the sentiment of property which 
 is of so great service to public order. The workman living in 
 his own house is no longer one of the proletary ; he has a 
 new dignity in his own eyes ; he becomes a citizen interested 
 in an orderly progress of affairs, and ceases to be a trouble 
 some factor. A Chicago business man said to me one day : 
 " I believe that the large number of proprietors we have in 
 our cities as well as in the country will be the safeguard of 
 our Republic." It is a just remark. 
 
 The building associations have done more than this, for they 
 have not limited themselves to making a man own his home, 
 but have educated him as a proprietor. As Mr. Robert). Payne 
 said at the American Social Science Congress : " They are the 
 best adult schools for teaching men and women business ; they 
 are schools for life. There they are taught how to save, how 
 to lay their savings securely, to see them grow, to watch over 
 them, to discuss their application, to consult and compare the 
 designs of houses, to study their size, price, comfort, and 
 healthiness. Whenever a workman puts some of his savings in 
 that wonderful savings-bank he can bring himself into touch 
 with the ways of business, and he does so." This is one of the 
 great advantages building associations have over savings- 
 banks, which have been founded in several towns in the States 
 to encourage saving among workmen. In the banks the de 
 positor may profit by lucky financial combinations of the 
 directors, but he has no say in the administration of his money ; 
 he does not learn its management. But the aim should not be 
 so much to make a workingman richer as to educate him to be 
 capable of developing his fortune himself by teaching him the 
 art of ownership. It is much more useful to know this art than 
 to gain some 20,000, especially in America, where there are 
 so many opportunities for fortune-making. There is another 
 advantage in the building association, for it holds forth a 
 definite object for the workman s foresight, something fairly 
 easily attained, and always coveted. Man is not born with a 
 strong craving for a savings-bank book or railroad shares ; it is 
 an educated not an innate desire. Just consider how difficult 
 it is for provident parents to train their children to be saving. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 213 
 
 But everybody longs to have a home of his own, and more 
 ardently in the United States than elsewhere, on account of the 
 independent customs of the country. It is very much easier 
 to develop a provident disposition on this universally- 
 felt desire for a home, than on the fascination of a pocket- 
 book, which few feel ; and these few need no encouragement, 
 for they will save without any stimulus. It is the majority of 
 workers that should be kept in view. The building associa 
 tions reach this class, as their results prove. They give many 
 people, who otherwise would never have felt it, a longing to 
 possess houses of their own. 
 
 Philadelphia is not the only city where such societies are to 
 be found. They are very prosperous in Chicago, which pre 
 tends to the second place among industrial cities for well 
 organized workmen s dwellings, and in Pittsburg, St. Paul, etc. 
 Some New Jersey statistics, which I have beside me, give 120 
 building associations for that State in 1884. They are numer 
 ous throughout New England, where the factories are usually 
 in the country or in the little towns they have created. They 
 have not spread much in the more Western cities nor in the 
 South, where industries have only recently been established 
 for instance at St. Louis or Cincinnati. 
 
 The workmen s dwellings in Philadelphia may be divided 
 into three classes, according to their size ; first, two-story houses 
 with four rooms ; secondly, two-story houses with six rooms, 
 and thirdly, three-story houses with eight rooms. All these 
 are brick-houses, built on a stone foundation and having cellars. 
 Their prices very from $1,200 to $4,000, and the cheapest are 
 let for $6.00 to $8.00 a month to families who do not own a 
 house. 
 
 It is not enough to know the general facts about the hous 
 ing of workmen in Philadelphia, but one must go into the 
 houses and talk with the men in their own houses before giving 
 a thoroughly accurate account of the matter; for by doing so 
 many facts, untold in statistical accounts, come to light and 
 show the appearance of the working-classes with precision. For 
 this reason I ask the reader s permission to introduce him to 
 my friend Michael S., an Alsacian, who came to America after 
 h e war of 1870. I met him first in the Baldwin Works, where 
 
214 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 he was pointed out to me as one of the few Frenchmen in the 
 shops. As fellow-countrymen, we quickly began our acquaint 
 ance, and I was invited to spend that same evening at his house. 
 After dinner I took the car which ran to his quarter, and at the 
 end of a long ride I found myself in front of the little flight 
 of three steps which led to my Alsacian friend s home. 
 
 At the first glance comfort and ease were revealed by many 
 details. The little entrance lobby is separated from the outside 
 by two doors ; the floor of every room is completely carpeted ; 
 the whole house is heated by a good stove, and lighted from 
 numerous gas-burners ; the furniture of the parlor recalled that 
 in the house of some petty French official a couch, six chairs, 
 an armchair, a marble table and two rockingchairs to give it 
 local color. A marble clock stood on the mantlepiece ; there 
 were two mirrors on the walls, and framed photographs of 
 relatives and friends ; in a word, the usual decorating of a 
 bourgeois interior, with some traces of greater taste added ; for 
 instance, the interior Venetian blinds were of varnished pine 
 and had an elegant air. 
 
 I was received in this parlor by my friend s wife, an Alsacian 
 also, florid, somewhat chubby, and slightly nervous about my 
 visit. Her white apron told that she was not American by 
 birth ; and she has preserved something of her European 
 habits in the simplicity of her costume and her modest manners. 
 However, she frankly held out her hand, and soon we were busy 
 talking. Like good Alsacians, my host and hostess thought 
 that we could not spend the evening together without drinking 
 beer, and while talking we emptied a respectable number of 
 bottles of Milwaukee beer. It was no great trial, as Mil 
 waukee beer is excellent, and it had another advantage in the 
 present case, for it put Michael S. and his wife quite at ease ; 
 it was a souvenir of the brasserie of the old country, which 
 brought up comparisons between America and France and 
 stirred up that sympathy which Frenchmen feel for each other 
 in a foreign land. Let me remark, in passing, that nothing is 
 more curious than the influence of drink on social relations. I 
 know it only by hearsay, but I know it surely, that drunkards 
 associate together very rapidly ; while from my own personal 
 experience this time I have proved that one rises in a notice- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 215 
 
 able degree in the estimation of a Frenchman by knowing how 
 to drink wine, in that of an Englishman by testing tea, and in 
 that of a Yankee by swallowing iced water. It was doubtless 
 the action of this law that made drinking of Milwaukee beer 
 give rise to so interesting a talk in a Philadelphia suburb. 
 
 A pretty little girl of nine years came and also had her share 
 in this innocent beuvcrie. She was the eldest of the family, and 
 her five brothers and sisters were in bed, like well brought-up 
 children ; but she had received permission to stay up a little 
 later than usual in my honor, and to tell me that she went to 
 school with the little American boys and girls. She could 
 scarcely talk French, but made up for this by the way in which 
 she could chatter in that special American dialect, which is a 
 sort of English patois. The school she attends is a public 
 unsectarian school, where no religion is taught ; but her father 
 said he was going to send her to a confessional school the next 
 year, so that she might be instructed in her religious duties ; 
 meanwhile she was sent upstairs to bed. 
 
 " I see you have a good beginning of a family," I said to 
 Mr. S., who replied, " Ah, sir ! that is nothing at all ; just ask 
 my wife there, who came the last of a dozen and had six follow 
 her. And my brother-in-law, who also lives in Philadelphia, 
 has eleven children." "Is it easy to bring up so many?" 
 " Mon Dien ! Monsieur, there is no need to complain in this 
 country, which is a good one for the workingman. When I 
 first came I spent a few hard months, because I did not know 
 a word of English ; but now that I can make myself understood 
 and work with a good master, I certainly would not return to 
 Europe. I have been some years now in the Baldwin Loco 
 motive Works, where I am paid by the piece and can make 
 from $3.20 to $3.60 per day, which lets me lay aside a good 
 sum; and I am now about to buy a house for $2,000, for which 
 I shall pay cash." " This one, then, is not your own ?" " No, 
 I rent it at $15 per month, and would have to pay $3,000 were 
 I to buy it, because of its situation. By going a little further 
 from the workshops I will be able to get just as good a house, 
 with two rooms on the ground-floor, two on the first floor, 
 kitchen, lumber-room and bath-room, with water and gas. My 
 wife is not obliged to work, thanks to the good wages I get, 
 
2l6 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 and can spend all her time in looking after the house ; and 
 living is not at all dear here, meat costing about 10 or 12 cents 
 per pound, and only clothing is expensive. Most unmarried 
 workmen board with some family for $3.60 or $4.00 per week, 
 and can save large sums, which help them to set up for them 
 selves. I did that myself once." 
 
 I was astonished to hear nothing about the great use of the 
 building associations in this history of Michael S., and I 
 expressed my surprise. " How was it that you did not think 
 of making use of the advantages these societies offer settle as 
 soon as you were married, and free yourself by annual instal 
 ments?" " Ah, sir," he answered, "that way of doing things 
 does not suit me at all. I do not care to run into debt like 
 that ; it is not a French habit. Supposing I had died, how 
 could my wife have paid the annuity? But now I am going to 
 buy a house that will really be my own, and for which I shall 
 pay in full at once, and which will remain in the family should 
 I die. Beside the rate of interest asked by the building socie 
 ties is much too high, and it pays better to do as I have done." 
 
 It is quite true that the associations are not of so much use to 
 workers already accustomed to economize, like Michael S., and 
 they were not formed either for or by such as he, for they have 
 no need to be encouraged to lay aside part of their wages ; and 
 besides, the same instinct which has given them a notion for 
 saving warns them against the danger of all financial specula 
 tion ; so they prefer to look after their own affairs. I have 
 noticed among men of this type a similar distrust of building 
 associations, and I hasten to add that not a man of them was 
 an American by birth. 
 
 When going to my hotel I thought how difficult it would 
 be to find a simple workman s family which had become so 
 well off in so few years in France. Of course, I have come 
 across a striking example, yet Michael S. s house was sur 
 rounded by others like it, usually kept going by the work of 
 the father alone. 
 
 It is characteristic of the American workpeople that the 
 married woman almost never sets her foot inside a workshop. 
 Even a well-educated girl does not think she lowers herself in 
 the least by working in some spinning-mill, in a shoe or cloth- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 21 J 
 
 factory; but once she becomes mother of a family, she quite 
 expects that her husband will supply the needs of all, until 
 the children are able to earn their living in their turn. In 
 going through the rooms where women were working, at Mr. 
 Dobson s, for instance, I noticed that the majority of them 
 were quite young, and my guide told me that hardly any of 
 them were married. The manager of another factory, who 
 knows a great deal about his workpeople, told me that, as far 
 as he knew, there was only one married woman among the 
 250 females he employed, and that she had no children as yet. 
 Statistics support these personal observations. Mr. D. Car 
 roll Wright published an important work on female labor in 
 factories. Out of 15,387 women, only 745 were married and 
 1,038 were widows. 1 Such figures need no comment, for they 
 irrefutably prove that the married men earn wages high 
 enough to supply the needs of themselves and their families. 
 This is an important sign of prosperity to which I recommend 
 the reader s attention. Mr. Jules Simon could not have 
 written " L Ouvriere " in the United States. 
 
 III. WHENCE COMES THE CONTRAST ? 
 
 We have thus two opposing sets of facts : on the one hand 
 poverty and its sad train of suffering, the pestilent tenement- 
 houses, wherein poor wretches stoop over work both hard and 
 badly paid, where public charity must come to succur these 
 numerous indigent beings; and on the other hand, a well- 
 lodged, well-paid people, rapidly raising themselves to inde 
 pendent positions. Whence this contrast ? 
 
 As is always the case, its main source is human inequality,, 
 for in every group of workmen there are some who are able to 
 raise themselves, and others who cannot make both ends meet. 
 But there is an added complexity in the case we are studying, 
 for the working-classes are not homogeneous in America, but 
 are composed of people who have come from all parts of the 
 world, each bringing his own customs and ways of living, 
 which he cannot change the minute he sets foot in the States, 
 
 i Fourth Annual Report of the Commissioners of Labor : " Working Women 
 in Large Cities; " p. 64. 
 
2l8 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 often with a well-planned purpose, which differs entirely from 
 that of another immigrant. Everybody who comes to America 
 is not of the same race, nor does he come with the same end in 
 view. America cannot act in the same way on everybody. 
 
 When talking with Eastern capitalists, whose factories I 
 visited, about their men, I found many a proof that they 
 clearly realized these differences. Usually they preferred the 
 German immigrant, who was able, steady, industrious and quiet. 
 The Germans probably remain longer with one master than 
 other immigrants. The Irish, who are almost as numerous 
 as the Germans, are smart, but are constantly giving rise to 
 difficulties, because of their turbulent character. Great care is 
 taken that they are not all placed in the same workroom, 
 otherwise it is impossible to keep order; they effervesce most 
 violently during periods of political agitation ; and further, 
 they have no notion of the value of money, and are noted 
 spendthrifts. The Scandinavians, whom we saw so numerous 
 and prosperous in the Far West, seldom stay East longer than 
 to make enough money or to get some advance to carry them 
 to unoccupied lands, where they intend to settle. The East is 
 only a half-way house for them. If an American begin life as 
 a factory-hand it is only with the idea of raising himself, and 
 he will try a hundred different trades rather than remain in 
 some business which promises no great career. 
 
 This short overlook shows us already two very distinct 
 varieties among American workmen : the one more or less 
 fixed to some trade and workshop, the other the temporary 
 workman constantly moving about and changing master and 
 trade at any moment. 
 
 Other varieties also exist, notably the " foreign laborers," as 
 the American calls them. The expression needs definition, as 
 it is not etymologically precise. The foreign laborer, in the 
 strict sense of the term, means the German, Irish and Scandi 
 navian, as well as the Italian, Chinese and Hungarian ; but 
 when a Yankee speaks of " foreign laborers " he means work 
 ers who have come to the United States without any idea of 
 becoming American citizens. Nearly all the Chinese, Hun 
 garians and Italians come under this category. They leave 
 their countries in bands, after being brought together by the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 219 
 
 emigration agents, who engage them for a certain time at a 
 salary agreed upon ; then, when the immigrants have gathered 
 a little hoard, they return to their own country and live on its 
 interest. I find a curious conversation recorded in the report 
 of the Labor Bureau of the State of New York for 1885, with 
 a Hungarian who was going home after a four years stay in 
 the United States, carrying $600 with him, which would make 
 him in easy circumstances in his own country. " I shall in 
 vest them at 16 per cent, on a first mortgage, which gives me 
 an income of $96, three times as much as it costs me to live 
 there." 1 Here, then, is the plan of these emigrants, to go to 
 a country where handwork is dear, find work there by offering 
 to accept the lowest price, live like dogs, so as to save as 
 much as possible in a minimum time; then return home, marry, 
 and tranquilly exist. America is a spring-board for them, not 
 a home. They form a non-assimilable element. 
 
 Without pushing further this examination and the different 
 types of immigrants who work in the factories, it is possible to 
 notice the very marked contrasts presented by the modes of 
 life. A westward-bound Scandinavian certainly does not carry 
 his savings to the building associations ; an Italian or Hun 
 garian does not even think of living decently, but to huddle 
 together with his mates in the wretchedest of retreats. These 
 foreign laborers generally form themselves into groups of 
 twenty or thirty, and choose one of their number to act as 
 cook, and the others give him an equivalent share of their 
 daily wages for boiling their potatoes. The same hole serves 
 as kitchen, dining-room and dormitory. The mere sight of 
 these rooms makes one sick. They are common enough, 
 though, in mining districts, especially near the coke-ovens, 
 whose rows of light pierce the darkness of the night near 
 Pittsburg. Wherever a new railroad is being made, the 
 " foreign laborers " are sure to be found. But Eastern cities also 
 contain large numbers of them. They especially the Ital 
 ians often act as masons or hod-men in contractors yards ; 
 they are employed in brick-making, a wide-spread trade in the 
 United States, especially among Pennsylvanian clays ; in fact, 
 
 I Bureau of Statistics of Labor, State of New York, 1885; p. 510. 
 
220 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 they perform most of the heavy work which does not need 
 special craftsmanship but great physical effort. 
 
 If care be not taken to keep this element by itself, the 
 results of any inquiry into the condition of the true American 
 workingman will be falsified. For instance, at Philadelphia 
 there are hideous lodgings close to Walnut street, right in the 
 heart of the city, whose dirty bills attract the houseless work 
 man ; the streets are lined with wretched hovels and covered 
 with debris of all sorts. It is the negro quarter. Of course, 
 that proves nothing against the City of Homes ; it only shows 
 that the negroes are very opposed to any example of decency 
 and respectability ; they could also have the trim little brick 
 houses, but the taste for them has not developed yet. Their pov 
 erty will not explain this, for I have seen several of them walk 
 ing about on Sundays, wearing superb pearl-grey gloves which 
 cost at least $2.00 to 2.40 per pair in America, with their 
 black frock-coat open, to show a shining white waistcoat, and 
 an enormous cigar between their thick lips. A couple of steps 
 from this lodging of which I have been speaking, a negro had 
 died and his comrades gathered to his funeral. All of them 
 wore brilliant badges, scarfs with gold fringes, decorations on 
 their buttonhole, etc. ; and nearly everyone had on a silk hat 
 and gloves. The procession would have had quite an impos 
 ing aspect if their faces had not made one somewhat inclined 
 to laugh even in such funeral circumstances. 
 
 With this exception of the negroes, Philadelphia shows 
 these contrasts less than any other city. The following seems 
 to me the probable explanation : In the East of the United 
 States, Philadelphia is the greatest industrial centre where 
 workmen of different trades can settle comfortably. New 
 York, where all Europe lands, has not the same material ad 
 vantages, as I have explained above, for its industry is much 
 less extensive and its geographical conditions prevent the 
 building of cheap houses. None of the manufacturing towns 
 of New England have reached the importance of Philadelphia ; 
 as we shall see later, a strong current of Canadian immi 
 grants is directed towards them, and thus European immigration 
 is turned somewhat aside. Hence, Philadelphia attracts large 
 numbers of immigrants and keeps the best of those who are 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 221 
 
 capable of remaining at a trade, who form the stablest 
 elements, who are the picked workmen, because of the 
 number and variety of its manufactures. Philadelphia, thus, is 
 the machine-sorter of European immigrants, separating the good 
 seed from the bad or worthless which it contains ; and the best 
 of the new elements thus get added to the choice nucleus of 
 population descended from the companions of William Penn. 
 
 True, Philadelphia contains a certain number of transitory 
 laborers, working for a time at any trade, but they are useful 
 from the point of view of its industrial prosperity. They are 
 necessary in busy times, and are dismissed without scruple 
 when the slack days follow. Any economic disturbance affects 
 them more than any other class ; yet they do not suffer very 
 greatly since instability is their natural condition. Statistics 
 show that any depression has a much more fatal effect on 
 skilled laborers than on unskilled ; but, luckily, they affect a 
 much smaller number of the former. At Philadelphia, in partic 
 ular, this movement of immigrants allows the economic action 
 of industry to go on in an almost automatic manner. The 
 managers at the Baldwin Locomotive Works, of W T illiam 
 Sellers & Co., of Messrs. Dobson, etc., all say that they can 
 find as many laborers as they want whenever they need them 
 in busy times ; and, if they want to get rid of any men, it is 
 easily managed, as a certain number are always willing to go. 
 
 But go a little out of Philadelphia, into the mining regions, 
 and " foreign laborers " can be found in plenty. There the 
 sight is very different, and miserable shanties, wretched wood 
 sheds, where miners huddle together amidst the most horrible 
 filth, replace the tidy home which we have so admired. At 
 Pittsburg both exist, because of the double nature of the 
 laborers. Close beside the foundryman, who is like his Phila- 
 delphian craftsman, is the Hungarian or Italian miner or 
 furnaceman. The 150,000 Germans who form half the popu 
 lation of Cincinnati retain many European customs, and have 
 been less affected by their surroundings ; they live in rows of 
 ugly little houses, insanitary and little cared for, although 
 neither air nor space are wanting. 
 
 The visitor to the little industrial towns of New England is 
 often astonished to see the workmen s houses piled together 
 
222 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 without any justification, such as I have noticed for Fall River. 
 That arises from the preponderance of temporary laborers 
 supplied by Canadian immigration. Forty years ago, Ameri 
 cans filled the factories at Lawrence or Lowell, but to-day, 
 most of the laborers are European or Canadian immigrants. 
 The Canadian leaves his parish to earn, in some factory or 
 mine, the money necessary for buying some property; and 
 when he has made enough to make him a proprietor, he goes 
 back to Canada and settles there. 
 
 In this way the Franco-Canadians are invading the Province 
 of Quebec little by little, while the English proprietors, vexed 
 at this peaceful revenge, are giving it up more and more. It 
 is clear that such workmen are not anxious to have as comfort 
 able houses as possible in Massachusetts or Connecticut ; they 
 neither live well nor ill, or rather ill than well, in order to get 
 more quickly back to their country. For them, as well as for 
 Italians and Hungarians, it is a bad time to be got over. " I 
 lived four years like a pig," the Hungarian mentioned above 
 avowed to the Labor Commissioner. Canadians do not descend 
 to the same depths, for they are accustomed to home-life, and 
 are not contented with the bad potatoes, black bread and bad 
 rum which Hungarian stomachs can absorb ; but they do not 
 try to form a home. 
 
 This rapid glance over the different elements of the wage- 
 earning classes will let the reader understand the very marked 
 differences in the opinions of authors worthy of being trusted, 
 which they publish on the position of labor in America. By 
 noticing building societies or miners shanties, it is possible to 
 draw very emphatic conclusions, and counsel fellow-country, 
 men for or against emigrating to the United States ; the con 
 clusions are false and the advice dangerous. Before sending a 
 workman to the United States, as well as before dissuading 
 him from going, it is necessary to know the man, to know 
 what he wishes, and what he can do once he is there ; for with 
 out considering these things he goes out on chance. 
 
 The Foreign-Labor Question has deeply moved the American 
 public during the past few years. The workmen detest these 
 not over-scrupulous laborers who lower the price of handwork. 
 The statesmen are distressed by seeing a non-assimilable element 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 223 
 
 thus introduced into the population ; they consider their pres 
 ence as a danger to American institutions, and so they have 
 enacted laws interdicting the importation of foreign labor under 
 contract. Somebody lately proposed to land all immigrants on 
 the little island in New York Bay, where the Bartholdi Statue 
 of Liberty stands, and there examine them as to their capaci 
 ties and means of existence; those who did not seem apt and 
 likely to get on, ought to be reshipped to their native land. 
 This proposal the reverse of liberal greatly exercised the 
 wit of the comic journals. One represented Liberty furious at 
 the injury done to her, and threatening to leave America for 
 Europe. Another proposed to transform the Statue into a 
 hotel for immigrants. These jokes have a just ground, and 
 the modern Americans will be doing a very bad stroke if they 
 close the door by which some of their best citizens enter. Be 
 sides, the carrying out of such regulations is far too difficult a 
 matter to make them seriously think of putting them into 
 force. 
 
 America will cease to be America the day that European 
 immigration ceases. I do not think I need stop to prove this 
 at the end of this chapter on the Labor Question. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE ECONOMIC CONDITION OF AMERICAN MANUFACTURES. 
 
 HIGH WAGES AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES. AMERICAN 
 
 INDUSTRIES AND EUROPEAN COMPETITION. THE McKiN- 
 
 LEY BILLS. THE DANGERS OF THE PROTECTIVE SYSTEM. 
 
 -THE EFFECTS OF A FREE-TRADE REACTION. 
 
 I. HIGH WAGES AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 We have still to discuss another question in connection with 
 American manufactures. We have visited some factories to 
 get an idea of their appearance ; we know the masters who 
 manage and the men \vho work in them ; but all these are 
 lying more or less as scattered scraps of information in our 
 minds. Of course, we know that masters and men are bound 
 together by a contract specifying some particular wage, but 
 we are wholly ignorant of the circumstances that allow the 
 American capitalist to pay the high wages we have mentioned. 
 How can any trade pay when hand-labor is so dear? That 
 is the question. 
 
 The most evident answer is to charge the customers propor 
 tionally. By selling goods at high prices, high wages can be 
 paid to the men who make them. But then all the manufac 
 turers in European countries would send over and inundate the 
 country with their cheaper goods, and quickly ruin national in 
 dustry by their competition. 
 
 A dike must be built to keep out the inundation, and Ameri 
 can manufacturers must be protected from its disastrous effects. 
 Thus it is that American custom-dues are so strong. If they 
 were not so, it would mean death to industry. The high rate 
 of wages is not phantastic, but the inevitable result of a special 
 economic situation already noted and recapitulated briefly 
 here. 
 
226 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 The large area of unoccupied land and the facilities offered 
 to the immigrant who will settle on them, allow many people 
 without capital to form homesteads of their own. In order to 
 keep a man from running all risks and trying his luck in the 
 West, it is necessary to offer him considerable advantages to 
 keep him working for some master. This is especially true of 
 the American-born, who are always ready to throw themselves 
 into any adventure, and golden chains are needed to keep them 
 at home. Farmers themselves can give large wages, without 
 any help from protective tariffs. 
 
 This condition of things, so favorable to agricultural develop 
 ment, would have cut short the industrial expansion in the 
 East had no protective system been adopted, which artificially 
 kept the price of hand-labor and manufactured goods at a high 
 level. In other words, had the American waited for the 
 normal development of industry, they would have needed to 
 have waited until their agriculture ceased to prosper. 
 
 Delay did not suit the Easterners, who were in no ways dis 
 posed to depend on Europe for the manufactures whose ele 
 ments they found in their own land ; they would not consent 
 to be a source of industrial profits to others, under the pretext 
 that they had large sources of agricultural wealth. Conse 
 quently high duties were established many years ago to fur 
 ther their plans. 
 
 Thus, it was no economic theory that led American manu 
 facturers into the way of protection. They built this Chinese- 
 wall around them simply because they found it paid. I have 
 often noticed in the United States that a farmer, a manufac 
 turer or a trader is always a strong advocate of free-trade or 
 of protection; and that an economist has very seldom any de 
 cided opinion on the question. One day I asked the Secre 
 tary of a very important Chamber of Commerce what was his 
 opinion, and he replied that it was not possible for him to 
 satisfy me, because he had none ; that every struggle between 
 free-trade and protection was one between conflicting interests. 
 One man was a protectionist because his industry needed pro 
 tection, but he never asked that other industries should be 
 protected, although they had as much need of it as his own, 
 for he was protector of his own interests alone. It was 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 22/ 
 
 the same with free-traders ; everybody was a free-trader as far 
 as regarded the objects he did not make himself, because it 
 was clearly advantageous to get things as cheaply as possible. 
 That was why he found all general and philosophic views on 
 the subject so absurd. Customs legislation had no need of the 
 influence of these general views, for it must consult each trade 
 and weigh the interests of each. The best tariff would be that 
 which best met the needs of each branch of business, and it 
 was necessary to try to realize this as nearly as possible. 
 That, he believed, was the only rational way of dealing with 
 so complicated a question. 
 
 That man s words were of gold, it seems to me, but his idea 
 of justice has never been held in great favor with Eastern 
 manufacturers, who inherit narrow views. The little colonies 
 formed at the beginning of American history, in New Eng 
 land and Pennsylvania, were strongly founded ; the part they 
 have played and the progress they have made has given evi 
 dence of that fact ; but they were stamped with a terrible 
 narrowness. They possessed the combination of virtues and 
 weaknesses which are usually shown by austere societies who 
 live entirely within themselves, so as to keep from the taint of 
 corruption. They had a distrust of anything foreign to them, 
 and considered that oppressing the Gentiles is a work approved 
 by God, and more especially if that oppression should benefit 
 His servants. There was much of that in the way the North 
 formerly treated the Southern planters during Civil War times, 
 considering them to be without morality or principles. There 
 is still the same feeling in the politics of out and out protec 
 tion, of which the McKinley Bills are the latest manifestation. 
 The manufacturers, who are very powerful in the Republican 
 party, which is at present in power, have profited by the occa 
 sion to get exaggerated advantages for their own interests. 
 So much the worse for the sufferers! 
 
 II. AMERICAN INDUSTRIES AND EUROPEAN COMPETITION. 
 
 The interests of all industries in the United States are not 
 protectionist. The trades must be classified, and that classifi 
 cation is of considerable importance, for it shows which busi- 
 
228 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 nesses are normally developed and which could not have 
 existed without protection. The former rest on a natural 
 base, the latter on an artificial one. This fact is well worth 
 noting. Heavy articles form one class of manufactures, 
 almost absolutely free from the competition of similar things 
 made at a distance. For instance, Mr. Pullman has no need to 
 fear that some European maker will send palace-cars, still less 
 freight-cars, over the Atlantic, in order to cut him out. The 
 ocean-transport increases the price too much to let them be 
 brought into the American market. Similarly, the Baldwin 
 Locomotive Works need fear no foreign competition. In the 
 same category can be placed carriage-building, engine-making, 
 agricultural-machine making, etc. All these industries are 
 naturally developed in the United States ; they command 
 the market, no matter whether protective tariffs are suddenly 
 lowered or raised. 
 
 It is worth noticing that all Western industry is of this 
 category. We have pointed out that they are closely allied 
 to agriculture and the transportation of produce ; so they 
 share in the exceptionally favorable condition of a new coun 
 try ; and, further, the nature of their products protects them 
 from European competition. Theirs is an excellent situation 
 which assures them a brilliant future, whatever the customs 
 legislation of the United States may be. It also explains 
 why there are so few protectionists in the West. With an 
 agriculture that dreams of invading all European markets and 
 an industry that fears no competition, how can the West be 
 other than free-trade? 
 
 Even in the East, certain industries have little need of pro 
 tection. Breweries, for instance, whose importance is consi 
 derable, and also whiskey distilleries, can easily be threatened 
 by European breweries and distilleries. In order that any 
 thing can bear the cost of transport, it must not only be easily 
 transportable, but it must also be much more expensive than 
 the rate of carriage. The price of a bottle of brandy or of 
 champagne is not seriously increased by this travelling ; but 
 that of a bottle of beer is perhaps doubled. 
 
 The manufacturers needing protection, then, are those 
 which produce goods which cost much more than any trans- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 229 
 
 port-dues. In this class are cloths of all sorts, objects of art, 
 of fashion, gloves, porcelain, fine wines, liquors, etc. Iron 
 and steel, despite their weight, can also fight against Pennsyl- 
 vanian iron and steel in the American market. So in Pitts- 
 burg Mr. Carneggie carries high the banner of protection, and 
 certain arrangements of the recently-passed Tariff Bill pro 
 posed by Major McKinley are said to be due to his powerful 
 influence. 
 
 There is thus a class of manufacturers that must be pro. 
 tected if they are to live, for their prosperity, and even their 
 very existence, rests on this very artificial base, easily dis 
 turbed and so at the mercy of a legislative majority. When one 
 thinks of the colossal importance of some of these industries, 
 when one compares the enormous production of, say, Mr. Car- 
 neggie s works, with the frail legislative support that keeps it 
 up, one is frightened to think of the crisis that a new customs 
 tariff might bring about. 
 
 The heated discussions on tariff questions in the United 
 States, and the exaggerated protective measures which have 
 been adopted, are good proofs that the industrial magnates un 
 derstand this danger. They have never shown their fears so 
 openly, nor made such extravagant pretensions as during the 
 preparation of the McKinley Bill, passed in 1890. I believe it 
 will be useful to briefly analyze these bills. They will show 
 the actual position of the question and the bitterness of the 
 fight between the free trade and protection interests. 
 
 in. THE M KINLEY BILLS. 
 
 The Democrats, who are usually free-traders, have long de 
 manded a tariff revision by showing that a reduction would 
 remedy the plethora at the Treasury. It is well known that 
 there is an excess of income over expenditure in the United 
 States, which surplus uselessly swells up the Treasury and at 
 the same time is withdrawn from circulation. The Federal 
 revenues mainly come from tariff, and by lowering these, there 
 would be some chance of diminishing the income. 
 
 That is the remedy put forward by free-traders, but the 
 manufacturers of the East, who boss the Republican party, 
 
230 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 thought that their cash-boxes would empty at the same 
 time as the Federal Treasury. They, therefore, opposed the 
 Democratic cure by a Republican one, and succeeded in 
 triumphing. This Republican remedy was none other than 
 the double McKinley Bill, and its inventor demonstrated its 
 efficiency by the following argument : " The more tariffs are 
 lowered the more foreign goods will enter and the higher will 
 the customs receipts mount up, because importation will in 
 crease in much greater proportion than the duties are dimi 
 nished. Instead of this plan, I bring forward a sure means of 
 reducing the imports and of closing the market altogether, if 
 we wish ; and any day we please we shall not have another 
 dollar s receipts." 
 
 Major McKinley has really forged two powerful weapons 
 against foreign competition. By the Tariff Bill he raised the 
 entrance-dues, and by the Act of Administration he estab- 
 ished a series of vexations destined to discourage importers 
 and to deliver them, bound hand and feet, to the tender mercies 
 of some officials. 
 
 The Tariff Bill is a veritable labyrinth. It contains ninety- 
 eight closely printed pages, establishes a host of detailed dis 
 tinctions and arrangements, but, as in all laybrinths, it is possi 
 ble to get out of it by following the guiding thread, and this 
 clue is the well-known intentions of American legislators. 
 Above all, they wished to stop the importation of goods which 
 were the same as those manufactured or able to be manufac 
 tured in their country ; but they looked much more sharply 
 after each branch of industry than after the application of a 
 general principle. That exposed their policy of outrageous 
 protection, and showed that their real concern was not for the 
 Treasury surplus. But that did not much matter, for once 
 they found a plausible pretext for raising the tariffs, they soon 
 arranged to raise only those they had some interest in increas 
 ing, and they raised them in proportion to that interest. Let 
 us take some example. 
 
 The United States still depend on Europe for works of art 
 and purely intellectual productions : the bill suppresses the 
 former duty of 25 per cent, on foreign books, and reduces it to 
 15 per cent, on paintings and statues. The United States can- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 231 
 
 not make enough sugar, of which they consume immense quan 
 tities, and sugar enters duty-free, except such as passes a cer 
 tain degree. The making of porcelain is little enough devel 
 oped, especially finer porcelain: the bill does not alter existing 
 duties. On the other hand, tissue-weaving is greatly developed, 
 at least that of low and medium qualities, especially tissue 
 mixed with cotton, a raw material the American has at hand : 
 the bill shows this is so by at once taxing these articles in a 
 marked way. I have before me a table, prepared by the Paris 
 Chamber of Tissue Syndicates, comprising different varieties of 
 stuffs which the old tariff taxed uniformly 50 per cent. ; the 
 bill lowers the rate for certain finer qualities to 30 per cent, 
 and 35 per cent, for rich damasks and fine China crepes, which 
 are scarcely made in America, but it raises 150 per cent, the 
 duty on certain kinds of cotton-velvet of common makes. The 
 same distinction is made with gloves : the duty has not been 
 raised for superior qualities, which are not yet made in America, 
 while they are made practically prohibitive for the commoner 
 kinds, such as are manufactured in the United States. A 
 Grenoble manufacturer, who does a large business with Mil 
 waukee, told me that the bill helped instead of hindered him. 
 " We only make fine gloves at Grenoble, and the heavy duties 
 are on inferior qualities alone, tending to fill up the difference 
 which naturally exists between the two varieties, and we cannot 
 but profit by this." But some German and Italian factories 
 which export cheaper gloves to America are seriously affected. 
 
 Samples could be multiplied to infinity, but those cited 
 above are enough to show the spirit of the Tariff Act ; so let us 
 turn to the Administrative Bill. 
 
 Major McKinley has been cute enough to give it a most inno 
 cent-looking title: "Act to Simplify the Law Relative to the 
 Recovering of Taxes," but its deceptive appearance hides many 
 a snare. The act establishes a series of inquisitorial and vex 
 atious formalities, opens the door to the arbitrary in official 
 valuations, and hands over importers to the discretion of Cus- 
 tom-House officers. Among the formalities demanded those 
 which raise the greatest objections are the establishment of 
 Consular Agents, certificates of origin, indication of real cost, 
 expenses, etc., etc. The importers complain at their goods 
 
232 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 being delayed by these numberless details, and further con 
 sider it a great mistake to make them undergo examination as 
 to the origin of their goods. 
 
 The worst section, however, is that which gives the exhorbi- 
 tant power of fixing the value of objects imported, when the 
 declarations of the merchants appear to be false, in the hands 
 of nine general valuators nominated by the Federal Govern 
 ment. Rules have been made to guide them in their valua 
 tions, but the elements of which they must take account are 
 too unknown to them for the rules to be of any real use. These 
 regulations form the legal basis for penalties, not true means 
 of valuation. In fact, these surveyors must calculate the cost 
 of raw material, of handwork, the amount of general expenses, 
 the cost of packing and of carriage ; add 8 per cent, to the 
 total, and thus obtain what the bill, with bitter mockery, calls 
 the real wholesale price. I can see only one of these things 
 that the valuators can really know, and that is the cost of trans 
 port ; all the rest is pure imagination, but a fiscal phantasy 
 involving strong penalties and even the prison. Article six, of 
 the act says: " Every person who shall knowingly make false 
 statements, or shall aid in any way in making a false declara 
 tion, shall be, after the establishment of his guilt, punished by 
 a fine not exceeding 5,000, or by imprisonment for two years 
 with hard labor, or the two penalties conjointly, at the discre 
 tion of the Court, and that without prejudice to the confisca 
 tion of his merchandise, for the cause of false declaration or for 
 any other cause determined by law." 
 
 These are the chief features of the formidable weapon which 
 the Republican party, representing protection interests, has 
 forged to destroy free-trade, and to add to the profits of the 
 manufacturers of the East. 
 
 Now these may raise the prices of their products without 
 fear, and should competition press once more, a sign from them 
 to the general valuators will be sufficient, for they are so armed 
 as to be able to nip it in the bud. Let me add that these val 
 uators, like most civil servants and politicians in America, will 
 probably obey the sign of the manufacturers, if it be backed 
 up by some substantial gratuities. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 233 
 
 IV. THE DANGERS OF THE PROTECTION SYSTEM. 
 
 Let us set aside these moral objections which will lead to a 
 new form of corruption, and let us concern ourselves simply 
 with the situation of American industry brought about by this 
 policy of protection. 
 
 It is a false situation. The McKinley Acts have given a sad 
 present to the national manufactures in multiplying and in 
 raising barriers around them. They have acted much as par 
 ents who spoil their children. Every caprice indulged is a 
 future danger, and the stronger the satisfied whims the graver 
 the dangers. American industry has all that it needs to live 
 and develop, for it is a well-formed infant, but its future is 
 being compromised by wishing to hasten its progress. I have 
 already explained that the high scale of wages makes the estab 
 lishment of protective duties necessary for the birth of certain 
 industries, such as textile ones. If these dues were calculated 
 simply to compensate for the dearness of handwork, they 
 would have a natural basis, and allow American manufacturers 
 to prosper, without provoking any serious opposition for con 
 sumers. But this enormous size reveals their less reasonable 
 object, and it is stated that the industrial magnates of the 
 East coin money on the backs of Western farmers by this new 
 customs legislation. 
 
 Doubtless, manufacturing has received a push, but it is the 
 outcome of artificial force, and will suddenly cease if once the 
 source of the force be removed. To-day the youth of America 
 is rushing into the industrial current created by the force of 
 legislative acts, and tends to leave aside farming whose nor 
 mal condition seems to it less favorable than this fictitious 
 one. It is neglecting the true source of its wealth, the fruitful 
 and natural source which has made America, and is going off 
 on the wrong track with all the energy that belongs to it. 
 
 What a terrible day of awakening it will be when a lowering 
 of the traffic comes to open their eyes ! What ruin of mas 
 ters ! What misery among workmen ! And yet, what is 
 needed to bring about this free-trade reaction? Only a politi 
 cal tacking, the triumph of the Democrats at the polls. By 
 
234 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 their very extremes the McKinley acts have made this crisis 
 at the same time more terrible and more probable ; more ter 
 rible, because the actual raising of the tariffs accustoms the 
 manufacturer to powerful protection, which is the source of a 
 large proportion of their profits, and more probable because 
 they have made many people very angry, and the Democratic 
 party knows well how to make use of this fact. Indeed, they 
 do not hide it, and have congratulated themselves since 1890 
 on the unpopularity of the acts. During the debates, when a 
 specially crushing tariff was proposed, it sometimes happened 
 that a less fierce protectionist would introduce a moderating 
 amendment ; and then the Democratic benches gradually be 
 came emptier, some members going to get shaved in the ad 
 joining hairdressing saloon, others descending to the basement 
 for lunch ; in short, many vanished, so that the amendment, 
 supported by a few Republicans and the handful of Demo 
 crats remaining was sure of being rejected. These honest 
 politicians thought it was better for their party to let the 
 odium of excessive measures weigh on their opponents without 
 diminution than to protect actual interests of their constitu 
 ents in a partial way. 
 
 What a text the proposals of these bills gave them to excite 
 an audience of farmers, for instance, against the Republican 
 party, the mainstay of protection! What magniloquent orations 
 against the monopolists who oppress the laborer, menace his 
 independence and make him pay so dearly for his great coat 
 or his farm implements! The Western settler does not need 
 to have these facts insisted on in order to be ready to fight, for 
 there is a strong enmity between him and the Eastern manu 
 facturer, which is shown by hearty applause at the first refer 
 ence of the Democratic candidate to the matter. If a Western 
 election turn on the tariff question, the Democrat is sure to 
 win. 
 
 But even among protectionist manufacturers the acts have 
 created discontent, which helps to increase the chances of an 
 early crisis. New England burns large quantities of coal, 
 objects to any tax on the bread of industry, and grumbles 
 that it has been sacrificed to the interests of the mines of 
 Pennsylvania and Ohio. The same complaints are made about 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 235 
 
 many other raw materials. Some smelters demand the free 
 entry of ores ; shoe manufacturers, that skins should be duty- 
 free ; carpet-makers claim the free admission of wools, etc., etc. 
 
 Free-trade also gains ground among the workmen. They 
 have long been reckoned as supporters of protection, for their 
 masters have gained them by this argument : " You have come 
 here to make big wages, and, in order to pay them to you, we 
 manufacturers must be protected against foreign competition 
 by high tariff ; if not, we will be forced to reduce your wages 
 to the scale of those of European laborers. " The workmen 
 answer nowadays : " Of course, you need tariff to help you 
 pay the wages you do for handwork, but you do not fairly di 
 vide the profits you make owing to the tariff; you swindle 
 us ; you could pay us still higher wages and still have honest 
 profits, and that would be only just, as these high duties weigh 
 heavily upon us ; as workers we may get a partial advantage, 
 but as consumers we bear all the burden. It would be much 
 better to have lower wages and be able to buy what we need 
 cheaper." Such discourses are fatal. Everywhere and always 
 when two people join to spoil a third, there is a quarrel about 
 the booty; for nothing is more difficult than to divide an arti 
 ficial gain in a just way ; and it is about this division that 
 Yankee masters and their workmen differ. 
 
 But these are not all the discontents, for some trades are also 
 dissatisfied, notably the shipowners. Boston used to be a 
 large shipping port ; and some years ago it was possible to find 
 firms owning fifteen to twenty vessels of large tonage ; but 
 to-day these houses have almost completely disappeared as a 
 result of the rise in tariff. By artificially raising the price of 
 goods the Americans have put a stop to foreign trade, and as 
 their vessels have nothing to carry when they leave port, the 
 shipping trade has been ruined. At Boston and New York 
 you can see the warehouses of all nations except the American. 
 
 Once entered in this path of artificial protection, they have 
 always plunged further along it. The industrial magnates of 
 the United States, protected behind this Chinese-wall, are a 
 little straightened as to outlet for their goods, and cries of over 
 production are common ; for, although the National market is 
 great, it is not large enough to take all that the manufacturers 
 
236 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 make. There is no use thinking of foreign outlets, for they 
 are stopped up because of the high tariff, and the bounties 
 for exportations granted under the McKinley Act cannot open 
 them. Another plan must be thought out. The Old World 
 is in a different economic condition from the New, and the 
 United States has dreamt to bring about a war in which the 
 two Americas, united under their leadership, would fight 
 against the commercial forces of Europe. That was the idea 
 of the Pan-American Congress, brought about by Mr. Blaine 
 in 1890. By this, the products of New England would have 
 the immense markets of Canada, Mexico, Brazil, Peru, Chili, 
 etc., where they cannot compete at present. But Mr. Elaine s 
 plan has not succeeded, because it was too obviously advan 
 tageous for the Yankees. The American Republics would not 
 consent to buy in America what they can get cheaper in 
 Europe. 
 
 In short, protection does not completely satisfy the 
 manufacturers of the East, and is openly opposed by Western 
 farmers, a large section of the working -classes and many 
 traders. On the other hand, the practical combination of pro 
 tectionist interest and Republican politics binds its future with 
 that of that party ; and it is possible to foresee its fall. With 
 out believing that the United States will admit for a long 
 time the free entry of competing European goods, it is 
 almost certain that tariffs will be lowered. As we have said, 
 there will be a crisis then. Will it be fatal to American indus 
 tries? Is it the sword of Damocles hung over its head ? It is 
 necessary to know this in order to fully understand the present 
 economic situation. 
 
 V. THE EFFECTS OF A FREE-TRADE REACTION. 
 
 Some industries will not be affected at all. These, we have 
 seen, have developed normally, and are better protected against 
 competition by the nature of their products than by any pro 
 tective tariffs. 
 
 There will be a great disturbance in others. The masters 
 will at once have recourse to a lowering of wages, which will 
 bring on conflicts with their men. Several manufactures, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 237 
 
 bolstered up by duties of 100 per cent, to 150 per cent., will 
 probably disappear. But once the first moment of terror is 
 over, the industries put in normal conditions will advance in 
 their onward march under the powerful stimulus of American 
 initiative and energy. 
 
 The lowering of the scale of wages and the prices of manu 
 factures will have a beneficial action on the future of these 
 manufactures, and will tend to put American masters on a 
 level with European ones from this point of view. On the 
 other hand, the American maufacturers will still retain the ad 
 vantage of abundance of raw materials and the well-developed 
 means of transport which exist in their country ; they will 
 make them fruitful by their hard work, their enterprising 
 spirit and inventive genius, and soon will flood Europe with 
 their cloth, iron and steel as they flood it with their meat and 
 grain to-day. Mr. Elaine s efforts to form a Pan-American 
 Customs Union will not be needed ; for all the earth, and not 
 merely a portion of it, will be open to manufactures of the 
 United States. 
 
 The longer the protectionist reign lasts the further will this 
 brilliant future be postponed, and the more terrible will be the 
 effects of the reaction on present industries. The luckiest 
 thing that can happen to American industry is to be put on a 
 natural basis without delay, with the measure of protection 
 needed for its support, but with profits coming from natural 
 sources. 
 
 Another consequence of lowering the tariffs will be to give 
 agriculture a new and profitable stimulus. 
 
 With lowered wages the lands in the East that are allowed 
 to lie waste will be ploughed again, and farming, which will 
 not pay at present in New England, will become a profitable 
 business. The Western settler will pay less for his laborers and 
 for his other purchases, and so see his profits increase. Un 
 occupied territories will be colonized with greater rapidity 
 than to-day, and the purchase of manufactured products will 
 increase at the same time. 
 
 However, the question is not so easily settled as one would 
 think ; for it must not be forgotten that the dearness of hand 
 work is not entirely due to high tariffs, but is a conse- 
 
238 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 quence of the special economic circumstances of the United 
 States, where there are many vacant lands on which it is easy 
 to settle. Free-trade can do nothing against this. The true 
 problem for American statesmen is to protect their manufac 
 tures in the measure that this condition destroys them, to bring 
 them more and more into natural circumstances, so as to 
 assure them a present life without compromising their future. 
 They will need to be very skilful to do this, but they can at 
 least try it by devoting themselves to the great interests with 
 which they are entrusted, instead of the narrow claims of 
 party. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE GREAT CITY OF COMMERCE AND BANKS. THE IN 
 TENSITY OF COMMERCIAL LIFE AND THE COSMOPOLI 
 TANISM OF NEW YORK. THE EMPIRE CITY. How AN 
 AMERICAN CAPITALIST INVESTS His MONEY. 
 
 At the beginning of this book we noted that a special 
 feature of American agriculture was that the settler fed cattle 
 or grew grain with the intention of selling them, and not for 
 home consumption, and that this led to the development of 
 great cities where cattle and grain were concentrated. But 
 these great outlet centres need outlets themselves, and we 
 have shown that packing-houses and flour-mills work for an 
 export-trade. Alongside this industrial activity which is sup 
 ported by agriculture, there is another and purely commercial 
 movement which also arises from it. To measure its impor 
 tance it is necessary to go to some of the great Atlantic sea 
 ports, and especially to New York, the Empire City of the 
 States, as its citizens proudly term it. The overplus of the 
 farms is really concentrated there. 
 
 On the other hand, the United States manufacturers pro 
 duce goods at a high price, and do not supply every sort of 
 article that is demanded ; so Europe sends over its surplus of 
 industrial products, while the New World ships its overplus of 
 agricultural produce. 
 
 New York, at the end of the natural line of transatlantic 
 transport, is the scene of this exchange. It plays the same 
 commercial part towards the whole of the States that the 
 small towns of the West do to the surrounding country, or the 
 large cities to a whole region. 
 
240 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 I. INTENSITY OF COMMERCIAL LIFE AND COSMOPOLITANISM OF 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Even on entering New York Bay the traveller from Europe 
 is at once struck with the activity he sees. The great Atlantic 
 liners come and go ; steamers of every shape and size, large 
 transport-ships, active tugs and heavy ferry-boats plough the 
 surface of the water in every direction ; the quays are com 
 pletely covered by the immense sheds where each steamship 
 company and each railroad has its terminus, forming a town 
 whose site has been reclaimed from the sea, the advance post 
 of the great commercial city. 
 
 Once landed in lower New York this feelin<r is intensified : 
 
 o 
 
 one is deafened by the tremendous din ; the endless street 
 cars passing and repassing among the huge drays laden with 
 goods, the smaller vehicles rattling over the wretched paving, 
 while the busy people rush along, and the newspaper-sellers 
 fill the air with their cries. The ground is not enough for the 
 traffic, the streets are not wide enough, and New Yorkers 
 have had to make several layers of roadways. Above my 
 head was the continuous noise of trains coming and going 
 along the " Elevated Railroad ; " the air was darkened by 
 smoke and dust, while the sun could not reach me except 
 through the openings in the scaffolding of wood and iron 
 which support the railroad ; and further lofty wooden-posts 
 carrying thousands of wires, helped to reduce the amount of 
 light still more. 
 
 Too cramped in the narrow Island of Manhattan, the city 
 has overflowed into Brooklyn on the one side and New Jersey 
 on the other. To make a closer connection between New York 
 and Brooklyn a gigantic suspension-bridge has been built 
 above East River, at a cost of over $20,000,000, on which 
 carriages, foot passengers, and trains pass at the same time on 
 different roads, while the great ships sail below. A plan for 
 joining New York and New Jersey by a tunnel under the 
 Hudson is now under discussion. 
 
 On mounting to the Elevated Railroad one sees advertise 
 ments which announce that over 5,000,000 people use it every 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 241 
 
 day. Reaching the street once more, one notices the telegraph 
 offices at very short distances from each other, always crowded 
 with messenger boys who carry the telegrams, and people of 
 all sorts who are hurrying about. Telegraph and telephone 
 are at hand in hotels, stores, offices and many privates houses. 
 Intense movement is manifest everywhere. 
 
 Business buildings are of immense size ; Mills s Building is 
 fifteen stories, and contains a thousand offices, banks, agencies 
 of all sorts, offices of lawyers, stock-brokers, ship-brokers, engin 
 eers, journalists, etc. Four elevators go continually up and 
 down from basement to roof, for there is a vertical circulation 
 as well as the horizontal one of the streets, the Brooklyn Bridge 
 and the Elevated. The Equitable Insurance Company s Build 
 ing, the World Building and a host of others, are rivals in 
 size, the World Building, with its twenty-four stories, being, 
 I imagine, the most daring in height ; but will it not be 
 overtopped also? 
 
 Nothing could be more convenient for business purposes 
 than these enormous tenements ; so, at least, say those who are 
 used to them : " In one hour I can call on fifteen people and 
 do fifteen bits of business. Should any difficulty arise it is pos 
 sible to consult a lawyer or get advice from an arbiter without 
 once going outside. It is impossible to estimate how much 
 coming and going these huge business buildings save us ! " 
 What would they do, then, without these blessed business build 
 ings ? 
 
 Outside of them, but close at hand in the same quarter of 
 Manhattan Island, which is probably the busiest corner of the 
 whole world, are the various Exchanges, the Cotton, Petroleum, 
 Produce and Stock Exchanges. Cotton, petroleum and agricul 
 tural produce are the true sources of American wealth. 
 
 But consider, now, the other side of this exchange trade, the 
 sellers of French and Spanish wines, the importers of porce 
 lain, drygoods, ready-made clothes, gloves, fashionable goods 
 and nick-nacks. All these are not in the lower parts of the city, 
 for the nature of the things they sell tends to make them 
 retail dealers; and so we find the French milliners and dress 
 makers, the English tailors, the picture-sellers, etc., all open 
 their stores in the fashionable quarter of Fifth avenue. 
 
242 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Such a mixture of different elements makes New York most 
 markedly cosmopolitan. A man born and bred in New York 
 is less American than many Westerners born on the banks of 
 the Oder or on the shores of some Scandinavian fjord ; and he 
 turns his eyes towards Europe more readily than towards the 
 Far West. I was introduced to an eminent advocate whose 
 family had long been established in New York and who had 
 been brought up in a country-house near where Eighteenth 
 street now is. He has thus seen the city spread over the 
 whole of Manhattan Island ; he has lived through all this pro 
 digious development of New York, and is delighted to talk 
 about it. Impossible, therefore, to find a more genuine New 
 Yorker. Very well ; this man knows nothing about his coun 
 try ; he has never been at Chicago, whose inhabitants he looks 
 on as barbarous, but he comes to Paris fairly often and he 
 stayed a long time during the Exposition of 1889, f which 
 he spoke in most admiring and enthusiastic terms. He 
 would not visit the Philadelphia Exhibition of 1876, partly 
 because of the spirit of rivalry that exists between Philadel 
 phia and New York, partly because he thought he would not 
 find the splendor and elegance of European exhibitions. 
 The New Yorkers are ashamed of America at heart, because it 
 is not Europe. They are attracted by our more refined man 
 ners and by the habits of fashionable life which they see at 
 Paris and which they regret to miss when they return home. 
 Hence an infatuation which shows itself in a thousand diffe 
 rent ways, in the intensity of the Anglo-mania which rages 
 among young people, as well as in the fairly numerous mar 
 riages of rich New York girls with ruined noblemen. I went 
 to a theatre one evening where the piece played was orfe of 
 these heavy English farces which are midway between our 
 Revues and our pieces de Varie te s. In this one the people of 
 Chicago were ridiculed, as we used to burlesque our provin 
 cials twenty years ago. If ever I open a New York illustrated 
 paper I am sure to find numberless jokes at the expense of 
 the West. One day I presented a letter of credit to a banker 
 who, as I was French, began to talk to me about the splen 
 dors of Paris and of the Exposition. As he spoke, his eyes 
 sparkled and he warmed up as a gourmand does at the re- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 243 
 
 membrance of a rich feast. When I asked him what he 
 thought of the future World s Fair at Chicago his counte 
 nance fell, he became silent and shook his head. I had to 
 take my leave after that, for the comparison I had suggested 
 was too desagreeable to him ! 
 
 In coming from the West it is necessary to lower the scale 
 of praise if you would avoid offending New Yorkers. When 
 you are asked, " How do you like the country ?" at St. Paul, 
 Chicago or Kansas City, you have only to be lavish in super 
 latives, which never reach the height of the questioner s ideals. 
 If he be a journalist come for an interview, he will add what 
 your phrases lack in vigor. Thus I read in a Dakota news 
 paper that in conversation I was supposed to have extolled 
 the Americans for being " so magnanimous !" Such exagger 
 ations would be taken for irony in New York. It is sometimes 
 difficult to make a New Yorker understand what one really 
 admires in America, the marvellous energy^of the Western 
 settlers, their true sense of their dignity and independence, 
 and that superb self-confidence which makes them undertake 
 such astonishing projects. 
 
 Europeans who come to New York even those who stay 
 there some years for business purposes without visiting the 
 country carry away a very inaccurate notion of the United 
 States ; and when one reflects that these represent the majority 
 of those who take a trip across the Atlantic, it is easy to under 
 stand the curious and erroneous ideas about Americans that 
 are current in France. 
 
 On landing in New York, after having made the passage 
 from Harve, one readily recognizes the marked contrast with 
 Europe, and, therefore, thinks that he has reached the real 
 America. I felt this very strongly, and kept saying to myself 
 at every instant, " How far I am from Paris." Bu t later, after 
 a long journey through the West, I spent a fortnight in New 
 York, and it seemed to me as if I had already said good-bye 
 to America. 
 
 This double impression gives an accurate idea of the dual 
 character of the city, the connecting-link between two very 
 different worlds, American on the one side and European on 
 the other. 
 
244 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 For Europeans New York is America, but for Americans 
 it is the beginning of Europe. 
 
 II. THE EMPIRE CITY. 
 
 Just as international exchanges are centralized at New York, 
 so there we find the concentration of Amercan finance. It is 
 the great money-market. There are important banks at Phil 
 adelphia, Boston, St. Louis and Chicago, but as soon as they 
 make an important local connection they are forced to open a 
 branch office at New York, which ends by having more busi 
 ness on its books than the parent-house. Thus it is that 
 Drexel, the greatest banker in Philadelphia ; Peabody, of Bos 
 ton, and others, are found in New York. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the bustle round Wall Street, 
 where the Stock-Exchange is located. It must be seen to be 
 understood. A stock-broker, to whom I was presented, acted 
 as my guide. From the circular gallery, which runs round an 
 immense hall, I saw the 1,100 members, coming, going, tele 
 graphing, questioning, taking rapid notes, etc. The indicators 
 below bore the names of the various securities which were 
 being exchanged ; here the Railroad Stocks, there the Sugar 
 Trust. The excitement round this Trust is very lively because 
 of the heavy speculations. I asked some details about the 
 way people speculate in New York, and Mr P., who is well up 
 in the customs of the Paris Bourse, pointed out some typical 
 differences between the customs of the two exchanges. " Prop- 
 perly speaking, we have no settling days (marchc a ferme] here, 
 and all business done one day is settled by checks the next 
 morning. " " But how can people speculate, then? " " They 
 are bound to take delivery of the stocks they buy ; or, if they 
 cannot pay for it themselves, find security, as we say ; that is, 
 find somebody who will agree to lend them the securities and 
 accept the stock as a pledge. In this case it is not the specu 
 lator but his creditor who runs the risks of the operation ; that 
 is his own lookout. The stock-broker does not fear that his 
 client should withdraw behind the exception de jcu, as it is with 
 us ; he always finds a responsible party, either in his client or his 
 customer. The shares bought are really paid for. " 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 245 
 
 Another difference is that stock-brokers have no special 
 privileges recognized by law, as with us. They become mem 
 bers of the Exchange without people being obliged to deal 
 with them. There are 1,100 members of the New York Ex 
 change. Mr. P. told me how he became a stock-broker. 
 " When I was twenty," he said, " I was in a house that im 
 ported drygoods. The founder of the house, with whom I had 
 been from the beginning of my career, soon wished to return 
 to Europe, and left me alone in America. Having confidence 
 in me, he entrusted me not only with his commercial schemes, 
 but also with a certain amount of his private capital, which I 
 was to invest for him in America, where he expected to get a 
 higher rate of interest. His expectation was realized, and 
 some of his European friends, encouraged by his example, 
 asked me to invest money for them. After some time I found 
 myself occupied with two businesses, one of dry-goods, the 
 other of banking. I decided to give up the former, and so I 
 am now a stock-broker." 
 
 I asked Mr. P. if he still continued to invest his clients 
 money on his own responsibility without receiving precise 
 orders from them. " That is no longer possible," he answered. 
 " Twenty or thirty years ago, when railroads were short and 
 passed through inhabited districts only, they were first-class 
 investmets and perfectly safe. To-day things are quite dif 
 ferent. I cannot be sure, any more than the brokers of Lon 
 don or Paris, about the chances of success of a proposed line 
 through the wilds of Texas, especially if the same company 
 owns as the Santa Fe Railroad, for instance 1,100 miles of 
 track. Of these 1,100 miles there are lines that pay; some 
 are doubtful, while others are bad. How is one to put all that 
 straight? Now we can invest money almost only in railroads. 
 The other businesses in America are usually in the hands of 
 private firms, and are conducted by two or three people, es 
 pecially in manufacturing. You can conceive yourself by 
 looking at the Exchange list." 
 
 The quotation list was interesting, for more than half of it 
 was occupied by railroad bonds, which, with the shares, filled 
 three-quarters of the list, but the latter was much less than the 
 former. The makers of a railroad usually wish to remain 
 
246 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 masters of the line and keep all the shares in their hands, so as 
 to manage the line without any other sharing. Those who do 
 sell part of the capital try to keep the greater part of it in their 
 own hands, so as to have a majority in every division that 
 occurs. That is called " controlling the business." The Vander- 
 bilts own five lines in this way, and Jay Gould controls several. 
 Some curious examples are given of lines which have been 
 almost entirely constructed with the money of bondholders by 
 pushing individuals who ran all the risks of the undertaking, 
 and consequently pocketed the profits if it succeeded. The 
 great Central Pacific was begun in 1860 by four San Francisco 
 storekeepers, whose united capital did not amount to more 
 than $120,000. One of them died in 18/8, leaving a fortune 
 of $40,000,000. The four partners made the Southern Pacific 
 as well as the great Central Pacific, and they own almost all 
 the lines of California and Nevada. At first each stretch of 
 track that was built absorbed every cent of the bonds issued. 
 
 The railroad kings, as they are called, are among the great 
 financial powers of the country, and it is well worth remarking 
 that the great mass of capital sunk by the public for working 
 the great network of railroads really serves, in the long run, to 
 increase the power of a few, because these few individuals 
 really direct the companies, and decide as to proposed lines, 
 tariffs, etc. The railroads, despite all appearances to the con 
 trary, have thus the character of private businesses, that 
 character so noticeable in all American undertakings. Mr. P. 
 told me that there was a movement in the other direction now, 
 that syndicates of small English capitalists bought businesses 
 already started and in working order breweries, packing 
 houses, etc. ; but the money they brought only served to 
 launch new schemes under the management of private firms. 
 The creative genius is a personal matter. 
 
 Nevertheless, powerful financial corporations really do exist, 
 in the insurance companies, which owe their importance to the 
 individual energy of the race, and to the business system where 
 each man runs all risks. Let me explain : The great majority 
 of fathers of American families, even among the rich and peo 
 ple in easy circumstances, have no patrimony in the true sense 
 of the word. When a man makes enough money to bring up 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 247 
 
 
 
 a family, he marries, he works hard, while the wife and chil 
 dren live on the father s earnings, just as happens among our 
 working-classes. If he does not succeed, they suffer, and he at 
 once tries something else, for all money evils are curable ; but 
 should things come to the worst, should he die, he leaves noth 
 ing behind. The American seeks to protect himself against 
 this most serious and unavoidable risk by insuring his life. 
 Hence the great prosperity of insurance companies. 
 
 We have such companies in France, and some have yielded 
 splendid returns ; but they are much less developed than in 
 America. Few fathers among our non-working classes who 
 are the sole support of their families ; many of them are civil 
 servants receiving a small but regular income, and having the 
 right to a pension, a part of which is paid to the widow should 
 her husband die. But besides this, the wife usually has a 
 dowry, and also a share in her parents estate, when they die. 
 The death of the head of the family does not, then, generally 
 involve the sudden and complete stoppage of the family 
 resources. 
 
 Here, on the contrary, the father alone supports the family; 
 the mother has no dowry, often no inheritance; if the father 
 dies she is without bread. An insurance on his life, which gives 
 her a jointure and enables her to bring up her children until 
 they are able to work for themselves, is necessary to secure her 
 maintenance. Insurance companies have innumerable cus 
 tomers in a society made up of families like these. Every 
 American needs them, and those that do not apply to them 
 are already members of mutual associations which give them 
 similar advantages. Some corporations have different plans 
 for helping their members. For instance, the heirs of a stock 
 broker registered at the Stock-Exchange receive $10,000 at 
 his death ; it is the same at the Produce-Exchange, etc. 
 
 Thus the insurance companies have an enormous capital at 
 their command, and the most important of them, such as the 
 Mutual Life, the New York, the Equitable, have more influence 
 on the market than all the banks of New York put to 
 gether. The nature of these companies forbids their run 
 ning any risk whatever ; yet they do a certain amount of bank 
 ing-work, lending on securities for instance. Their offices, in 
 
248 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 colossal buildings luxuriously fitted up, are a proof of their 
 wealth, and inspire the insured with confidence. This inoffen 
 sive advertisement is pardonable because it is truly justified. 
 The American insurance companies are the whole reserve force 
 of the most active society in the world. They are the most 
 conservative force in an economic system, where production is 
 excessive and risks enormous. They form the grain of wisdom 
 which balances the adventurous nature of the Yankee. 
 
 III. HOW THE AMERICAN INVESTS HIS MONEY. 
 
 When examining the various branches of American activity 
 we have several times seen the important part that credit 
 plays. The settler who comes to a homestead has to borrow 
 to buy the beasts and implements he needs ; the manufacturer, 
 the trader and the banker borrow to increase their business ; 
 and even the workingman borrows to build his house. The 
 credit system is prodigiously developed. There are many 
 reasons why this should be so, "and I recall some that have 
 been already mentioned : the poverty of most immigrants, the 
 enterprising spirit so widely spread in this society which trusts 
 to its energy and work, and the great confidence it has in the 
 future which explain its wonderful success. 
 
 There is one thing which must be clearly understood in order 
 to appreciate the economic condition of America, and that is 
 that money is plentiful in the East but scarce in the West. 
 Mr. James Bryce, in his conscientious work on America, 1 es 
 timates that six-sevenths of the American capital engaged in 
 all the undertakings which exist on the Uuited States territory 
 is held in four or five great Eastern cities. 
 
 Thus, there are capitalists in the East and no lack of 
 borrowers in trie West, where many signs show that money is 
 scarce. One of the most noticeable is the frequency of bar 
 gains, of bartering. I asked a Kansas settler, who was driving 
 me in his buggy, how much his team cost. He answered that 
 it would be difficult to tell, as he had exchanged some bad 
 cows for these horses, and added that one had not always 
 
 i " The American Commonwealth," by J. Bryce, M. P.; Vol. II., page 518. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 249 
 
 money in one s pocket out West. An importer of Percheron 
 horses showed me a farm he had taken in payment of a stallion. 
 I copied the following from a Western newspaper : 
 
 FOR EXCHANGE. 
 
 Exchange. 360 acres good Nebraska farm-land for stock dry goods, boots 
 and shoes or gent s furnishing. 
 
 I will trade a good clear lot in South Omaha for piano or horse and buggy. 
 
 If you have anything to exchange, call on or address Col. R., 6 Continental 
 Block. Office open evenings 7 to 8.30 P. M. 
 
 Such advertisements may be read in all Western news 
 papers every day. When a man gives credit he gets " No 
 Cash Payment " printed in large letters on his sign. Buyers 
 always come, and bargains are often made with payment 
 partly in money, partly in kind, as in the following advertise 
 ment : 
 
 Twelve thousand dollars worth of cloth and shoes against one-third cash and 
 two-thirds in farm-land. 
 
 This scarcity of cash forced the Westerners to support the 
 recent new Silver Bill with all their strength, whereby the 
 Federal Government is bound to buy 4,500,000 ounces of sil 
 ver from the miners every month. A larger circulation of 
 cash always lowers the rate of interest, and all Westerners are 
 benefited if they can reduce the rate they must pay for their 
 loans. 
 
 In this way the West is debtor to the East. It might be 
 imagined that we should find the ordinary bond-holder we 
 know in France, in large cities like Boston, Philadelphia, etc., 
 or the Jewish money-lender of Russia or Hungary. Nothing 
 of the kind. We have already come across Eastern capitalists, 
 such as Mr. A. s rich Boston cousins, who supply most of the 
 capital sunk in his large fattening-ranch in Nebraska ; but we 
 found that they ran all risks, decided how things were to be 
 done, and saw them carried out ; they came West when they 
 were needed at the ranch, and examined as to proposed 
 changes themselves ; in fact, they were Mr. A. s partners, and 
 not his creditors. I described a type of banker-farmer in 
 Dakota, who also came from the East. He really lent money, 
 and so was a creditor; but at the same time he had a farm of 
 
250 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 his own, and helped the country to prosper instead of sucking 
 it dry. I met professional men in New York and Boston who 
 either farmed themselves or sunk part of their capital in farm 
 ing ; but they knew the affairs their money was helping, which 
 were not usually those of large joint stock corporations, but of 
 private firms. They have to take care not to scatter their invest 
 ments, in order to know exactly how their money is being used, 
 and, unlike the prudent heads of families in France, who do 
 not trust all their eggs in one basket, they are not afraid to do 
 so, because they are sure that the eggs will not be broken be 
 fore they put them in, and see that they will not be likely 
 to suffer any serious jolting. They watch over the use made of 
 their capital instead of trusting to chance, and the probability 
 is that out of a dozen different affairs all will not burst at the 
 same time. Thus American newspapers, which are usually so 
 full of practical information, do not always publish a list of 
 Stock-Exchange transactions, as our French journals do. Plenty 
 of their readers take no interest whatever in their publications ; 
 for if they do have any spare money, they usually can use it 
 in their own business. They start schemes, they work them 
 selves with their capital, instead of sleeping on their dividends. 
 It is their solution of the relationship between capital and 
 labor, and it is one that offers many advantages. 
 
 But Eastern newspapers tempt capitalists by such advertise 
 ments as the following : 
 
 FOR WA TERTOWN (SOUTH DAKOTA). 
 
 A company of business men about to visit Watertovvn (South Dakota), for the 
 purpose of investigating its business and its advantages for investments, extends 
 invitation to others similarly inclined to join the party, which leaves Boston on Satur 
 day evening, June yth. 
 
 People who will spend three days in a railroad journey to 
 Watertown and as many to return are evidently not flats who 
 would throw their money away on some vague scheme in 
 Dakota; for in order to justify such a loss of time and so great 
 fatigue they must be prepared to sink a large sum in the busi 
 ness. After personal investigation they will combine in a com 
 pany of five or six to light the town, to supply it with water, or 
 to build a street-car track. The Boston capitalist is thus very 
 different from the European one living on his dividends. He 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 251 
 
 is also quite another type from the money-lending Jew who 
 oppresses poor people, lending to young men of family or to 
 a peasant who is in debt. 
 
 A man who spends more than his income and does not work 
 to increase it, is soon forced to ask for credit, but this credit is 
 deceptive, for it only hastens his ruin. When many proprie 
 tors in one country have done this, they naturally form a class 
 of debtors with very bitter feelings against their creditors. This 
 is at the bottom of the anti-Jewish agitation in Russia and 
 Hungary. 
 
 But a farmer, a manufacturer or a trader who needs money 
 for his business takes kindly to the banker who lends it, 
 especially if his business succeeds. It is owing to the banker s 
 help that he has been able to make a fortune, and this credit 
 and the man who gave it equally have his gratitude. 
 
 In the former case credit accelerates ruin ; in the latter it 
 helps activity to produce wealth. This somewhat invalidates 
 let me say it in passing the general theories of political 
 economy about the credit considered in the abstract. 
 
 It is noteworthy that this American credit system excludes 
 investments of greatest security, dear to the French notary ; 
 that investment about which he need never trouble himself. 
 It is not to be found on the other side of the Atlantic, except 
 in some railroad corporations, and even then there are risks to 
 be run, as I before noted. 
 
 The only institutions that recall our European way of doing 
 things are the " Trust Companies," a form of deposit banks 
 which relieve shareholders and proprietors of real estate in 
 towns of all the trouble of certain formalities as to interest or 
 rent, renewing the leases, etc. They have been started quite 
 recently, and their origin is easily explained. Many Easterners 
 travel in Europe, going about from place to place, or else 
 settling there ; many women have large settlements, and 
 then certain public institutions have large endowments. These 
 form a special class of dividend-drawers, tending to increase 
 with growing wealth. The Trust Companies meet their de 
 mands and are slowly becoming powerful financial corporations, 
 comparable to the insurance companies. 
 
 However, this is a parisitic element; it is the union of capital 
 
252 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 and labor in the hands of the same people, the fact that a rich 
 man in the United States is not a useless idler but an enter 
 prising and energetic spirit, that makes the American credit 
 system so powerful and so full of good results. Instead of the 
 stockholder being content to enjoy his dividends, the Ameri 
 can capitalist is busy producing something 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AMERICAN EDUCATION. - - PRIMARY EDUCATION. ALL 
 TRADES ARE RESPECTABLE. THE YOUNG GIRLS. 
 
 One need not stay long in the United States before finding 
 out that everybody is not able to make use of its proffered 
 advantages. Every European visitor feels this, and I hope 
 that my readers here also felt it in glancing at the various 
 forms of American activity. The Western settler must 
 be prepared for isolation ; and he who would carry out 
 any project, even in the East, must run great risks and meet 
 the competition of many energetic people. Everywhere a 
 man must know how to change his trade should circumstances 
 demand, to be on the lookout for the lucky chance, to live 
 always with both eyes open, and camp on life s battlefield. 
 Some Europeans can accomplish all this, and we have seen 
 them doing it ; but, generally speaking, the American is victor 
 in this daily struggle, directs all movements, opens all new ter 
 ritories, founds villages, builds railroads, forms factories, and 
 pushes on his country to its high destiny. 
 
 How is it that the American can do all this? To this 
 question everybody has a different answer. Some say it is 
 because he is an egoist and values nothing but money. Others 
 think that his energy proceeds from a higher source, and is the 
 outcome of a deep feeling of personal dignity. One blames, 
 another praises, but nobody explains. After all, it is not so 
 much a way of proceeding to be explained as a way of looking 
 at things to be understood. Both result from a combination 
 of circumstances, the influences of environment and of educa 
 tion. To understand them, then, it is needful to observe these 
 surroundings, to study this educational system, to examine 
 the thousand details of daily life, which give the American 
 certain ideas and aptitudes from his earliest days. That is 
 
254 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 why we shall now enter an American family and study it, just 
 as we have examined the inner-working of farms, workshops, 
 business and banks. We have seen the American at work, 
 and now we must study how his education fits him forhistask. 
 
 I. PRIMARY EDUCATION. 
 
 An American, five years old, is already very different from 
 a European, as can be seen in a thousand details. Last year, 
 when I was returning from New York to Havre, there were 
 several American families on the steamer. The children, who 
 are usually free from sea-sickness, were one of the greatest 
 sources of interest to me during the voyage. Their ways and 
 talk, which I compared with the ways and the talk of French 
 children, were most instructive and sometimes threw a vivid 
 light on all that I had seen in America. One day, when I was 
 marching up and down the hundred yards of deck, I saw a 
 little girl about four years old climb on the railing and lean 
 half over right above the water. I instinctively drew nearer to 
 save her should she fall, when her mother, happening to pass, 
 said to her, " Well, are you having a good time ?" patted her 
 on the cheek, and then went off to the other end of the vessel 
 to play at skipping ropes with two or three gentlemen who 
 had got up that little game to relieve the tedium of the voyage. 
 I then resumed my interrupted walk, saying to myself that 
 there was no need to be more motherly than a mother, and think 
 ing about my wife and children. What fears a French mother 
 would have had in like circumstances ! This American mother 
 was by no means an unnatural one ; far from it. She considered 
 some things to be natural and salutary which we think foolish 
 and imprudent. Her code is that each one should be able 
 to look after himself, and she naturally applies it to her child, 
 not because she has reasoned the matter out, but because it is 
 customary, and she has rio idea that her action could raise the 
 slightest whisper of criticism. 
 
 There are doubtless many objections to this way of doing 
 things which are obvious enough, but the American accepts 
 these, believing that they are not so important as the advan 
 tages ; their children are imprudent, but their youths are bold 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 255 
 
 and enterprising. We, on the other hand, wish our children 
 to be quiet, obedient, under control, and our young people lack- 
 initiative. From the care or a nurse they pass to that of a 
 servant, from that of a school-usher to that of a mess corporal, 
 and when they are given their freedom, they do not know 
 what to do with it. 
 
 I also remember a little boy of eight and a half, who walked 
 about alone with his hands in this great-coat pocket and 
 answered to the name of Willie. His father and mother were 
 somewhere on board, but I never saw them, although I often 
 talked with my little friend Willie. This youngster had 
 crossed the ocean several times, told me what he had seen in 
 Europe, wanted to know how the screw worked, and did not 
 mind whether he spoke English or French or Spanish. He 
 could easily have been sent alone from Europe to America 
 without his being put about in the least. 
 
 Perhaps you will say that he was a specimen of a cosmopo 
 litan child, developed in this exceptional way by his constant 
 travelling. But go where you will in the United States you 
 will find this type. A friend of mine who lives four miles out 
 of Kansas City, allows his twelve-year-old son to bring his little 
 sister from the school to the house with his horse and carriage. 
 I went to spend one evening in St. Louis with a family, but 
 found only the father and the mother and one of the children 
 at home, the others having gone to the theatre to see " Carmen." 
 The oldest boy, only twenty, and his sisters, eighteen and 
 sixteen, came home at midnight through a very lonely quarter, 
 almost in the country. Another resident of St. Louis said to 
 me, " My daughter, who is sixteen, left for Winnipeg the other 
 day, but she should be there by this time." This young girl 
 travelled alone all the way from St. Louis to Winnipeg, over 
 1,250 miles. 
 
 When Americans come to Europe this independence of 
 their children and young people, and the confidence placed in 
 them, greatly astonishes people. A New York lady, staying in 
 Paris, sent her little boy of ten to cash a check for $1,000. The 
 cashier dared not refuse to hand over the money, but he spoke 
 to the father about this imprudence. "Indeed! Do you 
 really think that my son, who is eleven years old, is not able 
 
356 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 to do an errand for his mother? " said the father, and he laughed 
 and told me the story as an example of our innate distrust. 
 This same little boy was in Paris during the Exposition of 
 1889, and went there alone every day, talking German with 
 German exhibitors, English with English and Americans, and 
 French with the others, questioning them, gathering useful in 
 formation and educating himself in the American fashion, 
 wherein books play but little part. His father was not able to 
 get away from New York until near the close of the Exposi 
 tion, but when he came over to see it, his little boy was his 
 guide everywhere. 
 
 In a word, the Americans accustom their children to look 
 after themselves from an early age, to have confidence in them 
 selves and to need nobody. When traveling one can see little 
 girls of seven or eight, packing their trunks themselves ; each 
 has her own and is responsible for it ; she orders what 
 she wants at meal-time and knows how to choose. A well-bred 
 child in our country looks at her mother to see if she may ac 
 cept a bit of candy. 
 
 They are early taught that life has its painful necessities, and 
 that it is useless to bewail the departure of their father on a 
 long journey, or the reverses of fortune. They are virilely 
 educated. 
 
 American parents do not usually do these things from any 
 special reasoning, any more than French parents have a special 
 theory about the education they give their children ; but the 
 tyrany of custom brings it about. 
 
 Further, an American father and mother preach mainly by 
 example ; they do not often correct their children and they 
 seldom use force. The reason will be found in that which I 
 have said before to develop initiative it is necessary to let 
 alone. Hence extraordinary patience and requests where we 
 would command. In a village in the West a young mother 
 said before me to her little girl of three years, who had been 
 making a mess in the parlor, " Arabella, please do not do that. 
 I am very sorry, but I must forbid you to do that. Arabella, 
 you will break my heart." That woman s heart would be in 
 many pieces before evening, for Arabella broke it every instant. 
 I have heard many tales like this. A little boy, who had been 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 257 
 
 expelled from several schools in St. Paul, returned home after 
 one of these escapades. The father, without disturbing him 
 self, said, " Well, sir, what college do you intend to go to 
 now?" It is impossible to stretch respect for individual lib 
 erty farther. 
 
 Like every educational system, this one has no effect on some 
 natures, but in all it can influence it must awaken a strong 
 sense of responsibility, dignity and manliness. A monk of 
 French origin said to me, " Young Americans are more easily 
 taught than French, provided we take care not to be too 
 brusque with them. Like young blood-horses, they need to be 
 carefully managed, but one can get plenty out of them after 
 wards. The secret is to treat them like grown-up people and 
 to appeal to their high sense of duty. The other day I 
 heard an American deploring that boys of twelve and fifteen 
 years, taught by mistresses in public schools, worked in order 
 to please them. " But don t you think this deference a point 
 in their favor?" " Without a doubt," he answered, "but 
 children should not work to please a woman, but to develop 
 themselves, to become men, to raise themselves to play their 
 part in life. Education cannot be properly based except on 
 this idea; a man becomes a man in no other way." Such is 
 the American idea. 
 
 It often happens that a ten-year-old American plays the part 
 of a little man, as is inevitable with such liberty as he has ; but 
 the manifestations of his precocity are serious in spite of their 
 ridiculousness. He does not think himself a man because he 
 smokes, walks with his toes turned out, or speaks of popular 
 actresses. What raises him in his own eyes is to have some 
 responsibility, or to give himself the air of having it; for in 
 stance, to look after his little sister and conduct her to his 
 father s carriage. Above all, he affects absolute independence, 
 and talks of the business he is going to do, about which he is 
 already thinking. 
 
 However, in spite of this almost negative education I have 
 just described, in spite of the great liberty which the young 
 American is allowed in everything, there is one exception to 
 this liberty which is carefully taken from him the liberty of 
 doing nothing in the future. The feeling of responsibility is 
 
258 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 developed to prepare him to be perfectly responsible for the 
 means of his existence as soon as he is old enough. If a youth 
 even of sixteen or seventeen, or of twenty at the oldest, has 
 to ask his father to help him with money, his comrades point 
 their fingers at him. Public opinion is strong on this point, 
 and the fathers of families do not intend to feed the strapping 
 fellows they have brought up ; and so the beardless youth has 
 to shift for himself, and it is for him to prove that he has stuff 
 in him and can manage his own affairs. 
 
 I have often met Frenchmen in the United States who were 
 greatly shocked at what they called " the selfishness of American 
 fathers." It seems quite unnatural to them that a rich man 
 should leave his son to earn his own living, and not to support 
 or start him in business. It is certainly opposed to our cus 
 toms, yet it is the strong point in American education. The 
 liberty the children have would be very dangerous if it were 
 not counterbalanced by the necessity of looking after them 
 selves ; and the feeling of responsibility and personal dignity 
 which is developed in them would have no solid base were a 
 young man not really responsible for his conduct ; if he did not 
 suffer the consequences of his faults, and did not profit by the 
 results of his work. 
 
 But every society in which riches are increasing has to solve 
 a problem which it is often incapable of doing how to find 
 work for rich young men. Nothing is more difficult than to 
 keep the great energy which has founded the prosperity of a 
 class in its scions, and to preserve them from corruption. The 
 American has truly solved this by the ingenious plan of forcing 
 even a millionaire s son to earn his living by the sweat of his 
 brow. I once visited a brewery near Boston with the proprietor, 
 a very hospitable gentleman, who had entertained me some 
 time before. In going through the coopers shop, Mr. R. 
 asked me if I did not recognize anybody. I looked round, and 
 in a workman who wore a blue pilot-coat I discovered my 
 friend s son, with whom I had dined on Sunday in his father s 
 house, and who had seemed to be a perfect gentleman. I went 
 forward to shake hands, but he laughingly excused himself, 
 showed me his blackened hands and said he had been forging ! 
 Mr. R. explained that this boy was going through every differ- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 259 
 
 ent workshop, so as to get a practical acquaintance with every 
 thing done in a brewery. 
 
 He works like any other man, then goes home at night, 
 dresses and sits down at his father s table ; he is surrounded with 
 every luxury, in an elegant and comfortable villa. Here is a 
 young man who need not be frightened for anything that may 
 happen in future. One of his brothers rises every morning at 
 two o clock to go to the brewery and look after the delivery of 
 hops, barley, etc. He makes up for this by sleeping on Sun 
 days ; and another brother envies his lot, for he says he cannot 
 get a good sleep except in Summer; in Winter his business 
 kept him up late and forced him to rise early. There is a large 
 family (seven children, I believe), and the father has two mil 
 lion dollars ; so each child will have a very fair fortune if 
 it be divided equally among them. But until the father dies 
 they must live, and no money-lender would advance a dollar 
 on their prospects, for they are quite uncertain ; the father 
 may disinherit all or any of his children ; he leaves his fortune 
 as he thinks best, and the law does not interfere with him in 
 the least. One can easily understand what a stimulus society 
 receives from the action of all these youthful energies, and 
 that this so-called selfishness of American fathers explains the 
 development of America fairly well. 
 
 However^ there are many signs that this way of doing 
 things has no relation to narrow egotism. A Chicago advocate 
 who has fourteen children, thirteen of whom are boys, told me 
 that he sent them to Europe after they finished their studies 
 and before they began business, because he thought it a most 
 useful supplement to their schooling. This costs him $2,000 
 and $3,000 each time ; but later, his sons will not be able to 
 make so extended a tour as they must attend to business ; so 
 the father does not hesitate to send them across the Atlantic 
 at this favorable period at such a cost. 
 
 The youth brought up from his earliest years to rely on 
 himself and accustomed to see around him men who have 
 made their own fortunes, naturally aspires to do this himself ; 
 and it is a pleasure to watch how he seeks to make the most 
 of himself when the proper moment arrives. He throws him 
 self into the fight with the same eagerness that a young Saint- 
 
260 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Cyrien does when summoned to the field, only it rarely hap 
 pens that a student from Saint-Cyr is called on to fight- at 
 twenty, whereas the struggle for life, without truce and with 
 out rest, demands the service of all young Americans for all 
 their lives. 
 
 II. EVERY TRADE IS RESPECTABLE. 
 
 Never ask a young American what career he is going to fol 
 low, for he will not understand you at all, because there are 
 no careers there, in the proper sense. When he is twenty he 
 does not know that he will have a salary of 4,00x3 francs at 
 thirty, that he will be decorated between forty and fifty, and 
 must retire at sixty. It is difficult to find young men, when 
 in the East and in the great cities of the West, who are pre 
 paring for some profession, such as that of advocate, physican 
 or engineer; but in nine cases out of. ten they have no notion 
 except to start in business; and they begin manufacturing, 
 commercial life, farming, or journalism, whichever happens to 
 turn up and suit them, without attaching much importance to 
 this start. They do not need to commit their lives to the 
 administrative machine that will deliver them on the threshold 
 of old age forty years later; they seek only to make a living 
 for the present and to gain experience. With this necessary 
 income and experience they will one day be able to have a 
 business of their own. This is the American plan. 
 
 They do not spend long hours racking their brains to dis 
 cover their calling, nor do they ask their older relatives about 
 what career to follow ; but they believe that the best way of 
 discovering their capabilities is to test them, and trust to being 
 enlightened as to their destiny by trying their luck. It thus 
 happens that boys of sixteen are often engaged in important 
 businesses, such as he who took me round Mr. Carneggie s 
 workshops at Pittsburg and who said, when I offered him a 
 cigar, " No, I thank you, sir; I believe I am still a little too 
 young for smoking." Too young for smoking and not too 
 young to be in business! What think our rhetoricians about 
 it? 
 
 The fathers seldom advise their children, because they be- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 261 
 
 lieve nothing can replace personal experience ; as one said to 
 me : " Let him learn his lesson." A New York banker told 
 me that he happened to receive a few thousand dollars just as 
 he started in life, and as he came in contact with Wall street 
 speculators every day, he thought of risking his money in in 
 vestments, and consulted his father about it. The father said : 
 " Go ahead, and lose it all as soon as possible, for that will 
 teach you, better than any number of lectures from me, that 
 money is made by work and not by speculation." Two months 
 later, after several viscissitudes, the son came and told his father 
 that he had lost every cent. He had learned his lesson. 
 
 To learn this lesson well a man must be responsible for his 
 acts, and for this reason an American rarely takes his son into 
 his own business, but lets him go where he wishes. Any in 
 fluence of fatherly authority falsifies the experience. This 
 custom greatly surprises the European. It seems quite natural 
 to let our children profit by a position already made ; a lawyer 
 with good clients, a merchant with plenty customers, or a pros 
 perous manufacturer, is always prepared to take his son into 
 his business, and the son ready to follow this career, provided 
 he will work at all. In America it is quite different. The 
 fathers notice that this easy entrance to life does not suf 
 ficiently temper a character for life s struggles, and their sons, 
 jealous of their independence, are inclined to avoid their 
 father s factory or office. Each one has an ambition to make 
 his own fortune, and this can be noticed even among those 
 whose object is not filthy lucre. I remember one boy who 
 had a passion for study, and who worked at a table beside the 
 elevator, which he manipulated several hours a day, so as to 
 make money to pay for his lessons. Lessons bought in this 
 way are bound to be profitable. This boy will not become a 
 millionaire by growing pale over his books, but neither will he 
 be dependent on anyone for his intellectual satisfaction ; he will 
 not be rich, but he will be independent. That is the main 
 thing. 
 
 The same sense of dignity exists among American clergy 
 men. The Superior of the Catholic Seminary at Boston, 
 trained at Saint-Sulpice, pointed out several interesting charac 
 teristics to me. One student of lowly origin, whose parents 
 
262 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 could not pay for his board, came to him one day and said : 
 " Please let me remain here till the end of the session and con 
 sider it an advance of money which my family are not in a 
 position to give me, and I shall earn it during the vacation and 
 repay you." At the close of the session the young scholar 
 went off to Saratoga, a fashionable Eastern watering-place, 
 and became a waiter in one of the restaurants. He came back 
 to Boston at the end of three months with a sum large enough 
 to repay the money advanced to him. In France we would 
 consider it contrary to ecclesiastical dignity to permit a future 
 priest to wait at table in Vichy, but we are quite content to 
 see them educated by public monies. In America, on the con 
 trary, no trade is dishonorable, while it is a disgrace to be un 
 able to keep oneself. Such are the people who keep up the 
 professions, and among the waiters with whom the seminarist 
 lived, many may be gentlemen to-day. They also may be 
 seeking simply temporary occupation, so that they may make 
 money enough to let them go on with some enterprise in the 
 future. 
 
 This explains perfectly that self-respect which everybody 
 has, the independent attitude adopted by people in every rank 
 of life. An American workman has a high idea of himself, and 
 there is not a prouder Iiidalgo in all the world of Spain. He 
 does not dress in a cloak full of holes nor pose theatrically, but 
 such an external garment is of no use to the American. Such 
 pomp is needed to publicly proclaim the noble origin of the 
 hidalgo, while he stretches out a begging hand ; but the Amer 
 ican who works and who really feels himself independent, does 
 not bother himself about what his neighbors think of him ; his 
 sense of dignity is internal, that of the hidalgo external. 
 
 There are no irreparable misfortunes for people with such 
 customs, and a father who has been completely ruined by his 
 bad management, may hope to see his sons occupy prominent 
 positions. The mistakes of one generation have not much 
 influence on the succeeding one. All the young people begin 
 life with the same, or very nearly the same, advantages. 
 
 This is especially noticeable in the West. An immigrant 
 from Europe with a wife and children, after a reverse of fortune, 
 often finds it difficult not only to be independent, but even 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 263 
 
 to live. However, his sons are brought up in an American 
 atmosphere, without European prejudices or distrust in every 
 thing, and without that bitterness so often found in people 
 who have met adversity ; and then the future is before them. 
 A young man of eighteen who was born in France, and was 
 brought over by his ruined parents when he was three or four 
 years old, told me how he had got on in Kansas. First he 
 was shepherd on a sheep-ranch, and then cowboy on a cattle- 
 ranch, riding from morning until night and gaining a vigorous 
 constitution, which will be of the greatest use, whatever 
 happens to him, by this exercise. After this he tried farming, 
 but soon gave it up for journalism, and now he had taken to 
 commerce with success. He had a speedy horse and a buggy 
 in which he drove the girls during his spare moments, and he 
 declared that he was perfectly happy to be a true American. 
 His older brother only came to the States after his course of 
 studies, when he was seventeen. He makes an excellent bank- 
 clerk, but he will be a clerk all his life. His friends shake 
 their heads in speaking of him, and blame him because he is 
 not enterprising. " He knows his banking business well 
 enough and might start for himself, " said some. " But how 
 can he found a bank if he has no capital? " " What a reason ! 
 Where would we be in the West if we waited till we were rich 
 before trying our schemes?" 
 
 The American takes advantage of every opportunity for 
 speculation, to apply his intelligence and energy to any profit 
 able combination ; he considers any occupation which consists 
 in doing the same thing over and over again every day, art in 
 ferior one, which he will accept only temporarily. His aspira 
 tion is to do business, and as far as possible to " try his luck," 
 
 This is so marked that even the Americans themselves some 
 times laugh at it. Here is a little story told by a New York 
 paper which paints to perfection the precocity of every little 
 child. The scene takes place in a Western mining village : 
 " Johnnie," said a prominent financier to his youngest son, 
 " I ll give you a dollar if you ll break up that plot of ground. I 
 wish to make a new garden for your little sister." "All right," 
 answered Johnnie, who suddenly became thoughtful, "but I 
 must ask you to advance me 25 per cent, of the price fixed by 
 
264 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 the bargain, not that I doubt your word, but I need that sum 
 for working capital." " What do you say, Johnnie?" " Don t 
 you see, father, I shall bury the quarter you give me in the 
 ground, then call the other boys round and tell them a pirate 
 once hid a treasure in this place. After one of them finds the 
 quarter, I guess the others will make the dirt fly. The plot 
 will be dug and I shall get 75 per cent, profit without any 
 trouble ; but in fact - " Well, what more ? " " Oh, if 1 
 
 should find the quarter myself that would make them work 
 just as hard and it would pay me better. That would be the 
 same stroke as the one you spoke of to mamma yesterday 
 about that mine." The father shed tears of joy when he 
 thought what a cold day it would be for Jay and Rufus when 
 his son would be of age. 
 
 Whether true or false, this story is typical, and shows that an 
 American knows how to make a profitable thing out of some 
 task others are content to do for a given wage. Such a man 
 does not remain a bank-clerk all his life. 
 
 But the fortunes they build up are unstable, and they run 
 enormous risks-. A man may go to sleep a millionaire and 
 waken to find himself without a cent. Yet such sudden re 
 verses do not knock them over. They simply mean a return 
 to a known condition, the one from which they started, and 
 that it is necessary to go over an old road once more. Then 
 they courageously do the first work that they can find, with a 
 simplicity of energy altogether admirable. One day a respect 
 able-looking man of about forty called on a Chicago lady, 
 whose family he had formerly known, and told her that the 
 house in which he had been employed had smashed a month 
 previously; that he had no means, and would be most grateful 
 to her if she could get him some work. Mrs. B. told him that 
 her husband would soon be back and would do what he could 
 to find him a situation, but that meanwhile he must consider 
 himself at home and never think twice about coming to them 
 for help. He replied that she misunderstood him, for as he 
 had nothing in the world he was not sure of being able to pay 
 back anything; but if she wished to do him a favor she could 
 give him some work, let him dig the garden or beat the car 
 pets, as he was ready to do whatever human hands could do ; 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 265 
 
 for he was determined to earn the bread he ate. Mrs. B., who 
 told me the story, then went to a neighbor, who was having the 
 house repaired, and that evening she found this gentleman, who 
 had come to ask her for work, lying on his back, painting the 
 underside of a wooden balcony. After some time he was able 
 to find a situation more suited to his abilities ; but he never 
 would take any help from his friends, except their help when 
 seeking for work. That was his code of honor, and truly many 
 a man has a worse one. 
 
 Thus it is clear that American education does all it can to 
 develop to the utmost this sense of personal dignity and in 
 dependence in young people, as we have seen in so many 
 cases. I am well enough aware that during the past few 
 years there has been a tendency to form a class of idle youths in 
 New York, Boston, St. Louis, Baltimore and even Chicago, 
 who are ready enough to play with the dollars made by their 
 fathers; but the dislike that is shown to them and the sarcasm 
 that seldom spares them show that they are exceptions. In 
 any case there is no use seeking the reason of the rapid progress 
 of America among them. They are Americans bound to dis 
 appear, to come to Europe and idle in the capitals or watering- 
 places. Their own country has not enough distractions for 
 men of leisure. 
 
 III. THE YOUNG GIRLS. 
 
 This breath of independence which moves throughout 
 American society stirs in the feeble sex also, and their educa 
 tion is, perhaps, the most original of all. If we Europeans 
 are astonished by the little boys brought up on the other side 
 of the Atlantic, we must be still more surprised at the little 
 girls. This ought to happen at any rate, for we know how 
 much a French woman, for instance, finds herself exiled and 
 ill at ease in the environment we are describing. 
 
 The first impression of the stranger is that there are no 
 sexes in the United States. Girls and boys walk to school 
 side by side, they sit on the same benches, they have the same 
 lessons, and go about the streets alone. So much for their 
 earlier years. Girls of twenty are found in the factories, in 
 
266 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 the halls of great hotels, where they act as clerks to anybody, 
 for they know shorthand and typewriting ; in the primary 
 schools, where they teach ; in the lecture-room, where they 
 study medicine ; in the streets, where they preach ; in chari 
 table institutions, which they manage, and sometimes, as in 
 Kansas, for instance, even in the polling-booths, at the head of 
 municipalities, etc. 
 
 How is this strange and complex being brought up? For 
 what ends and duties is she trained ? A moment s reflection is 
 needed before answering. 
 
 Perhaps Americans do not know very well themselves, for 
 in reading a newspaper I" came across the notice of a very 
 curious competition : " $20 prize to the person who sends the 
 best answer to the question, What Shall We Do with Our 
 Girls? " The competitors were divided into two groups: some 
 wished girls to be brought up so as to be able to earn their 
 own living, and one quoted a sentence of Mme. de Stael, which 
 I do not know, and which seems to me much too American 
 for her: " Cc ricst pas de mes e crits que je snis fiere ; je suis 
 fie re (T avoir a ma disposition dix famous differentcs de gagner 
 ma vie." (I am not proud of my w r ritings, but I am proud that 
 I am able to make my living in ten different ways). The 
 other insisted more on domestic virtues, on household duties 
 cooking, washing, etc. 
 
 These two tendencies are well marked in society, and corre 
 spond to the two different situations a woman may fill. If 
 she remains unmarried she must struggle for life like the men 
 with whom she competes, and the best education for a spinster 
 is a virile, practical training for that struggle. If she marry, 
 her husband assumes all responsibility of supplying daily 
 bread, and her part is to look after and bring up the children 
 and manage the house. 
 
 But it is impossible to know which will be the lot of a little 
 girl of ten, and the problem is what sort of a training to give 
 her? 
 
 Americans usually act as if their daughters would never have 
 a husband, and bring them up as they do the boys, letting 
 them have as much liberty as possible, for in this difficulty of 
 telling what wi\l be the future they prefer to give them the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 267 
 
 
 
 means of making their way in life alone. If a companion 
 offers to give one of them his arm and walk along with her, so 
 much the better; but it is well to be prepared for the worst in 
 order to avoid disagreeable surprises. 
 
 It would seem that there must be equality among the boys 
 and girls, but this equality, of which I have spoken, is 
 balanced by a great inequality which custom determines and 
 the law supports. 
 
 In order that a girl may have complete liberty in American 
 society she must be protected by its conventions as much as 
 the strict family supervision does with us. An old French gen 
 tleman said to me : " You can send your daughter from North 
 to South and from East to West of the States without fearing 
 either any unpleasantness or adventure. That is because there 
 are so few women in the West, and in earlier times there were 
 very few everywhere ; so the Americans look up to them as 
 godesses." Since then I have often heard and been much 
 amused by this reason of the old gentleman. Just think of a 
 young woman lost among two hundred Frenchmen ? Do you 
 imagine they would honor her as a divinity? Well, perhaps 
 like some pagan godess. The fewness of the women has little 
 to do with the respect of the people for them. This respect is 
 an outcome of the constitution of their society, and to under 
 stand it we must consider its origin. 
 
 However mixed may be the origin of citizens of the Union, 
 we have shown several times that the immigrants from Northern 
 Europe take the first place in American society. They founded 
 the mother-colonies of New England and of Pennsylvania, and 
 they are to be found in the West to-day, coming straight from 
 the plains of Saxony, the British Islands and Scandinavia. 
 There is no need to insist on this idea, which has been ex 
 pounded here several times already. 
 
 But we know, for instance in the case of England, that girls 
 of this race are protected by a strong moral and legal barrier, 
 and they are allowed a liberty which seems strange to us and 
 would bring about grave inconveniences in our country. 
 
 The Americans are thus predisposed in favor of such an 
 education, but the peculiar nature of the surroundings accen 
 tuates this, and it often happens there that girls settle far away 
 
268 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 in situations where there are many risks on a ranch lost in 
 the Far West, or in some rising town. It is impossible to be 
 too well prepared for so stirring and uncertain a life ; hence 
 fathers give their daughters much more liberty than in Eng 
 land, and raise a still higher moral barrier around them. 
 
 So one sees young people of both sexes living on terms of 
 intimacy without any bad results. I know that everybody 
 does not admit this, and that some French authors consider 
 mixed schools to be sources of great mischief. However, 
 everybody I asked about it unanimously testified to the 
 contrary. A Catholic priest, who had been stationed in the 
 States for many years, said to me : u I live quite close to a high- 
 school, where boys and girls of eighteen both go. I often see 
 them pass the windows when the classes are dismissed, and I 
 can assure you that I have on no occasion noticed the least 
 impropriety of bearing or of conversation." Yet he was right 
 in the middle of a big town. 
 
 In addition to this, ask the mothers and they will tell you 
 that their daughters go out at any hour of day or night, either 
 alone or with their friends, and nobody is the least surprised. 
 If you have been presented in any house, you may ask a young 
 lady to go to the theatre with you ; and, if that young lady 
 be hungry at 1 1 o clock at night, you may take her to sup 
 at a restaurant, and then conduct her home. All that is 
 perfectly allowable. Your discretion and good-breeding are 
 trusted ; and should you be indiscrete, the law courts will make 
 you follow the path of duty ; and the courts are by no means 
 tender. An innkeeper in Pittsburg lately surprised a pretty 
 Irish girl by embracing her, and had to pay her $1,000 damages. 
 Another man in the same town was fined $2,000 for kissing the 
 wrinkled skin of an old woman of sixty. Of course, the penalty 
 is proportionate to the position of the offender, rather than to 
 the charms of the victim. Punishments of this sort are needed 
 to remind people who have no sense of propriety nor any 
 respect for woman, that such things are expected from them. 
 Such penalties are enforced only in societies where such 
 sentiments and respect exist. There, as elsewhere, public 
 opinion backs up the law. 
 
 Moral mixed schools do not surprise me any more than 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 269 
 
 respectable streets and decent suppers, and, in general, the 
 propriety of the relations between American young men and 
 women left to themselves. The decency of American manners 
 is incontestable, and the best proof is that this liberty given to 
 girls would be disastrous in France, for instance ; everybody 
 feels and understands this. It follows that manners must be 
 better in the United States, otherwise the system would be 
 broken up by the abuses which would result. 
 
 As it exists, this state of things brings about two character 
 istic advantages. Unmarried women can get respectable 
 situations ; and the future mothers of families gain experience 
 and are able to choose their husbands with some knowledge of 
 what they are about. Marriage does not wear the aspect of an 
 escape from family subjection, but appears a serious step whose 
 consequences and burdens are realized. Nothing could be less 
 alike than French and American marriages, as we shall now 
 see. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BETROTHAL AND MARRIAGE. HEIRESSES. DOWERLESS 
 DAUGHTERS. FORMS OF MARRIAGE. LARGE FAMILIES 
 AND CHILDLESS MARRIAGES. THE DIVORCE QUESTION. 
 
 I. HEIRESSES. 
 
 Let us, first of all, get rid of a subject whose importance is 
 immeasurably magnified in European eyes, and which might 
 help to falsify our observation. I mean the matter of Ameri 
 can heiresses. 
 
 We know them in France. For several years back an in 
 creasingly large number of young people of good families have 
 been coming to New York and offering for sale titles and coats 
 of arms that would not be bought in the Paris matrimonial 
 market. With a few recommendations, they soon manage to 
 find a purchaser, as there is a great demand for titles in certain 
 American circles. English lords and German princes and barons 
 no longer disdain the heavy dollar-bags which Americans hold 
 out to them ; and quite a number of such exchanges are ar 
 ranged at Boston, New York and Philadelphia. 
 
 Nothing excites the American comic papers as these inter 
 national marriages do. One published " The Lamentations of 
 an American Heiress," sighing after a ducal coronet and burn 
 ing to escape from the surroundings of her youth. Another 
 represented girls swimming about distractedly in an ocean of 
 dollars, while a ragged gentleman threw a hook baited with his 
 title among them. Here is the subject of a proposed stained- 
 glass window in a fashionable church : A young Englishman, 
 dressed in a checked jacket, receives the supplications of a 
 group of young American girls, and looks at them through his 
 single eyeglass with that self-satisfied and half-indifferent air 
 which characterizes the race, whilst his adorers show the reality 
 
2/2 AMERICAN LIKE. 
 
 of their eagerness by their poses. The subject is treated in a 
 pseudo-archaic way which adds to the burlesque. Another 
 example pictures the official interview of future father-in-law 
 with prospective son-in-law. The former asks the ordinary 
 question in such a case :."Sir, are you in a position to support 
 my daughter properly?" To which the second embarrassedly 
 answers, " Yes, sir, I dare say I can if you support me prop 
 erly." And then, as the last scene of all, the reader is shown 
 a miserable-looking attic, where a man in his shirts-leeves, 
 wearing many brilliant decorations, with an empty bottle at 
 his side, is thrashing the heir to his name, while the princess or 
 countess, his wife, is preparing some food on the stove in the 
 centre. Everything tells of misery and the fact that the large 
 bags full of dowry dollars are now empty. 
 
 Such is the cruel lesson from facts drawn by American 
 journalists and put before their young fellow country-women. 
 It is a little too far-fetched -to convince them, and it does not 
 reform them. How can they be changed? Satire never yet 
 cured those it stung. It holds up their whims to public view, 
 gives litterateurs an opportunity for skillful word-painting, and 
 lets the readers have a pleasant moment ; but it has scarcely 
 any other effect. When it attacks some current craze and it 
 is only then it can be amusing this craze has too powerful 
 causes to be cured by sarcasm. 
 
 This is true in the present case. Americans with an aristo 
 cratic mania do not come from the West, where we have seen 
 the girls gallopping over the ranches, but are young ladies 
 brought up in Eastern cities, especially in New York, and sub 
 jected to essentially cosmopolitan influences. They have often 
 lived abroad for a long time in Paris, London, Rome, Nice 
 or Biarritz. They have met amiable and elegant idlers, and 
 know how to spend a clay in their company, bringing them a 
 thousand different distractions, and are adepts at arranging an 
 excursion to the Pyrenees, making up a picnic menu, or at 
 rehearsing a drawing-room comedy. They discover with us a 
 whole class who study only how to make life an uninterrupted 
 succession of pleasures, and that this art is the outcome of a 
 long series of efforts, which their American brothers and 
 friends cannot learn all at once, whereas it comes naturallv to 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2/3 
 
 the descendants of several generations of idlers. They are 
 charmed by our easy life, and willingly buy the right to lead it 
 from whoever will sell it. This is impossible unless they can 
 offer a good round sum into the bargain, for it is useless to 
 offer oneself without a well-filled sack. But American fathers 
 do not usually give their daughters any dowry, and this effect 
 ually limits the exportation we are discussing. 
 
 Still, there are some Americans -who have been affected by 
 influences, and think highly enough of the Old World life to 
 wish their daughters to be in it. They are evidently not true 
 Americans, but Americans ready to blush for their fellow- 
 countrymen, disgusted with the work they have to do, and 
 quite ready to take advantage of the first opportunity to settle 
 on the other side of the Atlantic. These people are very well 
 pleased if they can get into society through their daughters 
 position. They have become aware that this world of society 
 is not easily entered by any comer ; he who would live in it 
 must pay at the gate, and the only one at all accessible is that 
 of marriage. Hence they determine to have a son-in-law. 
 
 In a word, this is hardly an American luxury ; and then 
 America is not recruited, but deserted by the contractors of 
 such marriages. If we would study American life, we must 
 not look at this aspect of the marriage question, but that of 
 the girls who have no portion. 
 
 II. DOWERLESS DAUGHTERS. 
 
 The great majority of American girls get no dowry. All 
 fathers who do not work with an export trade in view have no 
 notion of keeping several generations at the same time, and it 
 may even happen that a man who has made a great fortune 
 will let his daughter struggle in the deepest straits without 
 thinking of coming to her aid. I was told of a rich Chicago 
 merchant, spending about $70,000 a year, whose daughter, 
 brought up in his luxurious home, married a teacher who did 
 not earn $60 a month. The young household had a terribly 
 hard time of it, as can be imagined, but the father s purse- 
 strings were never untied. If she married a teacher, she was 
 not forced to do it, but did it because she chose, and so it is 
 
2/4 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 her own lookout if she must live on $60 a month. Everybody 
 is expected to arrange his life as he wishes, and on his own 
 responsibility. 
 
 American girls soon begin to " fish for husbands." This is 
 the classic procedure for all except old-maids. It needs a 
 keen eye to discover the right man amoung the crowd of males 
 they meet. Note that the operation is much more complex 
 than it is in France, where a suitor can be classified whenever 
 his dowry, his career or the fortune and age of his parents are 
 known ; and it is possible to say what women he may aspire 
 to wed by glancing over the list of girls in a corresponding 
 class. But in America the only known factor is the personal 
 worth of a young man. He has no dowry, a career full 
 of uncertainty, and no certainty of any patrimony. The 
 sole guarantee is his record up to date, his greater or less 
 ability and energy; in fact, the opinion that men of forty, able 
 to judge, have formed of him. 
 
 For a practical as well as a sentimental point of view an 
 American girl has only one way of being sure of a satisfactory 
 marriage, and that is to study her lover. Custom allows her 
 every liberty to do this, and she takes advantage of it. 
 
 As to the young man, he is not guided by the amount of 
 dowry, and, if he be prudent, he will not trust in his father- 
 in-law s fortune ; while in any case he must live until it comes 
 to him. The first qualities he expects to find in his wife are a 
 power of accepting whatever happens without a murmur, and 
 a willingness to help him to make the most of all that turns 
 up. An American wife must be courageous. How can a man 
 struggle if he be bound to a woman who intends to flee the 
 fight. 
 
 Thus, it is simply a matter of interest for both parties to 
 seek a companion with certain moral qualities, and, above all, 
 one with a strong character. Hence, another reason why we 
 should find these qualities developed, for this circumstance 
 tends to stimulate them strongly, as can be noticed in many 
 American households. I remember one young wife in a corner 
 of Dakota, who came out there four years before, with her 
 husband and grandmother. She was brought up in New 
 York, and her husband came from Boston. At first they 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 275 
 
 settled in a young growing town ; yet the beginnings, which 
 are always hard in such cases, had left no bitter memories. 
 She told me that her husband was doing well in business, her 
 grandmother lived with them ; she had a little daughter and 
 possessed quite a pleasant home before her husband s partner 
 failed and her grandmother died. This lonely and troubled 
 young wife only occupied part of her elegant wooden-house, 
 but she showed no bitterness in relating her misfortunes ; she 
 had a particular way of telling her story which was both sim 
 ple and strong ; not resigned but reasoned. Her husband had 
 lost his money, but had gained experience. " He had learned 
 his lesson," which consoled her and gave her hope for the 
 future. This gallant little wife had really a very accurate idea 
 of life, and bravely bore its inevitable crosses. Her education 
 had taught her to look at it in the light of day, and not to 
 consider that she should live in some carefully-constructed box, 
 free from all risks. She had stood the test, but then she never 
 knew that awful deception which French parents, who are 
 considered prudent, practice on their children by removing from 
 them every possible trace of the struggle for life, and which a 
 single unexpected accident makes them realize in its fullness 
 without any preparation whatever. An American must marry 
 such a partner. 
 
 But fine sentiments are not enough, and it often happens 
 that heroines are nevertheless miserable mistresses of a house. 
 A woman who joins her husband in life s battle must have a 
 number of less high-sounding and more useful virtues for 
 every-day use. Girls who wish to get married carefully show 
 off their domestic capabilities. Here is a curious case which I 
 dedicate to epicures : Six young Ohio girls had fixed their 
 choice on six young men of the same district, and had told their 
 secret to each other, as is customary with good friends in similar 
 circumstances. Things were progressing smoothly enough, 
 but these daughters of Eve became impatient for their victory, 
 and resolved to win it by the bold stroke of proving to the 
 men of their hearts that they were all quite capable of looking 
 after a house. They, first of all, got the loan of a house for a 
 certain day from a friend, and then sent off six invitations to a 
 lunch which they intended to prepare and serve with their own 
 
2/6 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 fair hands. The day arrived, and at the appointed hour the 
 young men came to this enticing lunch. They were welcomed 
 by the six sprightly cooks, dressed like comedy waiting-maids, 
 with a little knot of ribbons on their heads, symbolic of a cap, 
 with their arms bare, and wearing a low-necked gown with 
 short skirts, and an elegant apron. The men inspected the 
 stoves and superintended the cooking of the beefsteaks, to 
 prove that there was no deceit, and then sat down at a table 
 beautifully layed out with flowers, etc., where they were 
 excellently served. A few weeks later there were six new 
 households in Ohio. 
 
 Such customs are very different from ours. I can imagine 
 the terrible scandal a like escapade would cause in one of our 
 little provincial towns, where modest girls would certainly 
 not run this risk; whereas Americans thought it a charming 
 adventure, their education making them look at it in that light. 
 
 American marriage is a union of two people, and not an 
 alliance between two families. The parents do not support 
 the young household in any way, and do not interfere in the 
 choice of either party. Each one arranges his own marriage. 
 Consequently the United States does not have that interesting 
 class of professional match-makers that we have. There are 
 no old dowagers who seem to have given themselves up to 
 speculation on the happiness of their fellow-beings, and who 
 actively spend their leisure in bringing about chance-meetings 
 of different members of their large connection. Americans 
 have suppressed this intermediary. 
 
 Young Americans do not lightly pledge themselves to under 
 take this serious married life, which we enter accompanied by 
 a full family procession and guarded by all its counsel. The 
 least promise is binding, and, if broken, leads to an action for 
 damages. Alongside this liberty that young people have, cus 
 tom and law have fixed the severest penalties for seduction ; 
 alongside the ease of marriage-making, they have placed strong 
 barriers to bethrothal-breaking. Everything tends to make a 
 lover serious, to calm his eagerness. He has apparently every 
 liberty, but he also is made to fully realize the weight of respon 
 sibility he is assuming. 
 
 " Dear Mabel," said a young man, who had been too rash to 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 277 
 
 his intended, " I am afraid our engagement must be broken off ; 
 but do not take the thing too much to heart, dear." " Oh, don t 
 trouble yourself, dear Bobby ; I will not take it to heart, but I 
 will take it to the court for $20,000." 
 
 Such customs have their inconveniences. They help to 
 develop that coquettishness which woman is naturally inclined 
 to show. When a young lady of five-and-twenty catches mat 
 rimonial fever, she does not forget one single trap that can be 
 set for the stronger sex. If they have offered her a box of 
 candies in a moment of enthusiasm, let them look out ! That 
 is the American equivalent for the classic bouquet of flowers 
 sent in France. Perhaps some judge may see sufficient proof 
 of an engagement in this innocent act ; and should anyone 
 forget himself so far as just to touch her virgin forehead with 
 his lips, the case is clearly proved, and any denial is useless, for 
 the little brother has been behind the curtains with his instanta 
 neous camera and produced a print as damaging evidence. 
 
 Marriage, in spite of all these dangers from female coquetry, 
 is a more serious affair than in our society. A man takes every 
 precaution in moving over ground which has so many am 
 bushes ; the thoughtless let themselves in and make a mess of 
 it ; others have the faculty of choosing a wife, prudently get 
 out of the way of the flirt, and know almost exactly what they 
 are doing when they marry. 
 
 The girls also gain by this system. They are more respected 
 than in France. The consequences of a lack of respect are so 
 grave that nobody thinks of doing without it and undergoing 
 them ; and then the absence of a dower does away with such 
 harmful calculations as those to which we are accustomed. 
 
 The American wife has a very dignified position in a house 
 hold ; she is even exacting, is often willing to reduce her husband 
 to the part of a little boy ; sometimes objects to his smoking in 
 her presence, and knows very well how to make her opinion 
 prevail in any difference. She is a queen. This is true of all 
 grades of society with modifying traits. The workingman s 
 wife does not go to the workshop, as we have seen, for she 
 musUhave a drunken husband if she has to earn her own living; 
 and the honest laborer who works all day for means to support 
 his family does not play the part of patriarch when he comes 
 
278 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 home, to his own fireside. He may not lose the right to smoke 
 his pipe when he crosses the threshold, but he is always in 
 some measure his wife s guest. It is she who rules. 
 
 Her character is not that of an absolute monarch, and she 
 respects her husband s independence in his own proper sphere, 
 as he does her independence in her position. Each has a 
 sphere of interests where he is master or she is mistress ; the 
 husband looks after his business in his own way, the wife directs 
 household affairs as she wishes. Then each of these spheres 
 are completely separated from each other. The American 
 husband does his business outside in his office or workshop, 
 and he does no work at home, whither he comes for rest. The 
 house is the scene of woman s work. 
 
 III. MARRIAGE FORMALITIES. 
 
 When a young man and a young woman have agreed to wed 
 one another, all they have to do is to get a marriage licence 
 from the probate judge, and then they can be united by the 
 first judge or clergyman who turns up. Nothing can be easier. 
 It is speedy, simple and economical. 
 
 A father of a family may easily awake some fine morning 
 and find himself provided with a son-in-law or a daughter-in- 
 law whose name he does not know. A farmer whom I knew 
 was visited one day by a young neighbor who said that he must 
 no more call Mary his daughter, as she was his wife, for he had 
 married her the day before. It is true that this happened in 
 the West, where formality of any kind is rare, but it is hardly 
 possible to imagine anything less formal than this marriage. 
 The most curious thing is that the farmer was not angry with 
 Mary. She had agreed to become that young man s wife, and 
 that was her own affair. 
 
 The American State does not ordain any imposing ceremony, 
 and the only formality demanded is the buying of a license. 
 The parents consent is not needed, and no public office is re 
 quired. The ridiculous ceremony of a civil marriage is not 
 forced on them ; and if a couple do get married by a judge, it 
 is because there is no clergyman near, or the two are of dif 
 ferent sects, or of no sect. Americans are wedded with or 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 279 
 
 without ceremony, as they choose. I gave an example of an 
 express marriage above, and I shall now describe a wedding of 
 people less in a hurry, who were united in presence of their 
 relatives and friends. 
 
 This marriage took place in the suburbs of Chicago, in a 
 beautiful property dotted with clumps of trees. An Episcopal 
 chapel, with a little pointed spire, was built on the edge of the 
 park. It belonged to an amiable neighbor, who offered it 
 for the occasion, although the marriage was to be celebrated 
 according to Presbyterian rites. However, sectarian differ 
 ences are not so closely examined by Protestants in America. 
 It was Spring, and the usually bare chapel was decorated with 
 plants of every variety, and flowers were distributed to the 
 guests, who fastened them to dresses or in buttonholes, then 
 took their places and waited for the procession. The bride 
 wore an elegant white dress and the traditional veil ; the 
 bridegroom was in afternoon dress. While they knelt before 
 the alter, a small orchestra played very good classical music in 
 a mediocre way, and then the ceremony began. It was con 
 ducted by an old clergyman in a frock-coat, looking exactly 
 like the father of the family one sees in illustrated editions of 
 Berquin ; but in spite of this reminiscence, which evidenly I 
 alone had, I found him venerable-looking and calm, with an 
 expression altogether different from that of the crowd around 
 him, for he was the only one that bore the stamp of some spe 
 cial profession. He did not deliver a discourse, but he read 
 some texts, with a loud voice, and among them I believe I 
 recognized the part of St. Paul s epistle to the Ephesians used 
 by the Catholic liturgy in the Mass for Marriage. Then both 
 bride and bridegroom repeated a long formula after him, of 
 which this is the text : 
 
 " I, - , take thee, - , as my wedded wife, to have and 
 to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for 
 richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to 
 cherish, till death us do part, according to God s holy ordi 
 nance ; and thereto I plight thee my troth." 
 
 The Lord s prayer was then repeated, the audience respond 
 ing, and after the solemn u yes," the minister pronounced the 
 nuptial benediction. 
 
280 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 This ceremony has evidently nothing in common with the 
 hurried and almost clandestine formality which an amorous 
 couple beg a magistrate or clergyman to accomplish for them 
 without giving him any warning. This was a family festival ; 
 and two bridesmaids accompanied the bride, which was very 
 modest, I was told, since many brides have as many as six 
 maids. The chapel was crowded with gay dresses, the orches 
 tra played Mendelsohn s Wedding March as the procession 
 passed out ; and everybody went to the bride s home to pre 
 sent his best wishes to the young couple, take part in the lunch 
 and taste the wedding-cake. The wedding-cake is an archi 
 tectural structure in cake, destined to defy centuries, or at 
 least years. Everybody gets a piece, but there is still a large 
 quantity left over, which is carefully kept to show to the 
 children in after years, and to stand on the table at family an 
 niversaries. Young people keep a small piece of the wedding- 
 cake and put it under their pillow, and whatever they dream 
 of during the night will come to pass. This revealed to me 
 that an American could dream, a feat I should have always 
 doubted had it not been for that wedding-cake; for dreaming 
 does not suit these men who are so busy all day and generally 
 have very little time for sleep. 
 
 I had a talk with an American lady who had visited Europe 
 as so many educated American ladies have done when we 
 were returning to dinner in Chicago, in the car reserved for 
 those invited. She asked me if I were not surprised at the 
 customs I came across in America, and added : " We have 
 one very curious, one relating to marriage, for we get married 
 in the evening. Miss C. was married in the afternoon, because 
 all the Chicago people you see here could not have come so 
 easily in the evening. But you know the men in this country 
 are usually so very busy all day that they could not get 
 married at all if this were not the custom, for they could never 
 find time for it otherwise." Of course this is a clear skit, but 
 it is amusing and just, for it exaggerates a real characteristic. 
 The friends who attend an American marriage come 
 empty-handed. The new household has to buy everything 
 needed before it can settle, and presents are usually given with 
 this in view. Silverware holds the first place ; tea and coffee 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 28 1 
 
 services, trays, covers, knives, candy-boxes, sugar-basins, large 
 crystal jugs with silver bands, handles and covers for ice-water 
 of which they drink such prodigious quantities for syrup, 
 etc. There is not much jewelry or articles of value; but 
 chairs, a bed, tables, in fact a whole furniture store. This 
 practical sort of present becomes more common further West. 
 At New York such gifts as bracelets, rings, etc., are going to 
 daughters of Vanderbilts or Astors, and at one recent mar 
 riage in this class of society the bride was said to have re 
 ceived $200,000 worth of diamonds ; but then these are the 
 Americans for exportation of whom I have just been speak 
 ing. At a recent marriage in high society in Dakota I noticed 
 a silver toothpick was mentioned among the wedding-presents. 
 It is impossible to push the liking for silver and the desire for 
 utility any further. 
 
 The custom of decorating the rooms with a prodigious quan 
 tity of flowers is the principal element of elegance at an 
 American wedding. When the religious ceremony is in the 
 house, as is usual with Protestants, a great crown is made 
 above the heads of the happy pair, and sometimes even a very 
 dome of flowers of the most graceful appearance. Even in 
 the extreme West, where flowers are very rare, rich people 
 order them on these occasions at great expense. Everybody 
 seems to have a passion for this kind of luxury, which does 
 not demand a refined taste, such as artistic decoration or a col 
 lection of curios, and it has the additional advantage of being 
 expensive just such reasons as would explain its reign in 
 America. 
 
 LARGE FAMILIES AND CHILDLESS FAMILIES. 
 
 When the newly-married couple has shaken hands with a 
 great many people, and the bride has changed her white dress 
 for a simpler travelling one, they start off on their wedding- 
 tour ; some good friend throws an old slipper after the depart 
 ing carriage to bring them good luck, and their married life 
 begins. 
 
 We are much too discrete to follow the young people through 
 the various phases of their honeymoon, and I suppose that 
 
282 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 nothing is so like an American honeymoon as a French one. 
 The subject is not interesting enough to justify crossing the 
 Atlantic to study it. It is more interesting to note what the 
 young wife understands as the duties of her new position, 
 which brings us to a new and delicate question, but a very 
 important one for the future of America the question of 
 children. 
 
 Few families are fertile in Eastern cities, except among the 
 Irish and Germans ; the others who have been in America for 
 some generations seem stricken with sterility. I well remember 
 the unstopable laughter of a young wife in Brooklyn when I 
 told her how many children and nephews I had. It seemed 
 the most extraordinary thing in the world to her to have a 
 numerous family ; and she confessed that no family she knew 
 had more than two, and that most people were contented 
 with one. Her husband protested against this statement, but 
 she silenced him by asking him to name any of his friends 
 who had three children. 
 
 It is only in Brooklyn and New York that this barrenness is 
 very marked, but it is found in various degrees in all the large 
 cities. A Philadelphia manufacturer confessed to me that 
 when a child did come it was a mistake. A German workingman 
 in the same city pointed out to me his numerous and con 
 stantly-growing family and said : "You cannot find so many 
 children as these among true-born Americans, for their wives 
 poison themselves so as not to have any infants. " 
 
 But even in great cities I came across some notable excep 
 tions, even among American families of long standing; for 
 instance, a Chicago advocate with fourteen children, a St. 
 Louis manufacturer with eight, a St. Paul banker who had 
 seven alive. I quote these cases so as not to unduly exag 
 gerate this evil, which, as is well known, is spreading in 
 Eastern cities. 
 
 What is the probable cause? Is it as a Yankee economist 
 said one day : " A French lesson too easily learned by his 
 countrymen?" I do not believe that the sterility in France 
 has any but the most remote connection with American 
 barrenness. 
 
 Both are voluntary, it is true. Those wishing to excuse the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 283 
 
 Americans have pleaded the physical and physiological conse 
 quence of habitual overwork, climatic influences, the abuse of 
 chewing tobacco ; what more shall I add? After each census 
 the Academy of Medicine in France publishes reports on the 
 general effects of certain elements of modern life on which 
 they try to fix the responsibility for such a state of affairs. 
 But in spite of these general considerations there are families, 
 both in France and America, which undergo the same influences, 
 and of which some are barren, some fertile. Sterility, therefore, 
 is not inevitable. 
 
 In France fathers with some property usually wish to limit 
 the number of their children, some because they do not wish 
 it divided at their death, the majority because they must give 
 dowries to the living. Every infant is a new creditor. Twenty 
 or thirty years after his birth, after we have fed, lodged ^and 
 brought him up, we must hand over a portion of our property 
 to him. Such a prospect makes many parents think seriously. 
 Ask them, and they will confess that it is so. 
 
 In America nobody thinks much of giving his children a 
 ready-made position ; and there are no dowries, save the few 
 exceptional ones I have mentioned ; so there is no need for 
 considering how to suppress them. The education of children 
 does not cost a father much money; but the mother has all the 
 cares of the little ones from their earliest years, as well as having 
 to bear the suffering of motherhood and the different compli 
 cations that babies bring into a household. But Eastern girls 
 are not educated so as to be able to deal with such cares and 
 pains, while the lack of efficient service and the smallness of 
 many town homes help to aggravate matters. The responsi 
 bility for the scarcity of children rests on the women. 
 
 Just recall how the American gdrl is trained, with every lib 
 erty and never a trace of restraint, and a considerable experience 
 of life. Her great energy and " go " are more easily exhibited on 
 a Western ranch than in a narrow room. Imagine such a girl 
 cooped up in some large city say New York with an incon 
 venient house, often without servants, or in any case with un 
 trustworthy ones, left all alone for a dozen hours every day, 
 and tell me if these are favorable conditions for bringing up a 
 large family ? Certainly not, if the girl has been accustomed to 
 
284 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 a high standard of comfort ; certainly, if she be the wife of a 
 workingman. 
 
 The former recoils from the prospect of washing, combing 
 and cooking for half a dozen children, for as a girl she has had 
 nothing to do but to look after herself, and this transformation 
 is far too abrupt. The latter is set free from her work in the 
 factory when she marries, and readily accepts the cares of 
 motherhood, which she finds lighter than her former task. This 
 picture is not true for any place except New York and a few 
 Eastern cities. The young couple easily find a house of their 
 own in the West, which may not be large, but is sufficient, and 
 is easily enlarged as the family increases. This is one favor 
 able condition. Another is the simplicity of their customs, 
 which allows girls of every class to do housework without 
 repugnance. The household may be in the country, and the 
 duties therefore complicated. For instance, on a farm there are 
 laborers to feed and farm-yard animals to look after; and it 
 may happen that even the girls are called on to help in the 
 farm-work on some sudden emergency, for example, to guide 
 the horse-rake at hay-time or bring back strayed cattle to their 
 proper places. Such occupations give quite a different train 
 ing to that of the regular attender of a high-school, who 
 lazily promenades the streets of a great city. When these 
 Western girls have to undertake the duties of a mother they do 
 not refuse them. 
 
 To sum up: Voluntary sterility is confined to great cities, 
 and is prevalent mainly among the rich. It is a phase of moral 
 corruption aided by city life and by an external rather than a 
 domestic education, and fostered by the inconvenience of the 
 houses. We shall be able to understand it better when we 
 enter the American home and see how it is organized ; but 
 before doing so we must study another plague of American 
 society. 
 
 V. THE DIVORCE QUESTION. 
 
 No exact idea is to be had of American marriage customs, if 
 only their making and celebration is to be considered, for too 
 often they are broken with remarkable facility. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 285 
 
 Divorce laws differ in every State of the Union. Unfaith 
 fulness must be proved in New York. In New Jersey divorce 
 is obtained if either man or woman has been cruel to the other; 
 in Chicago and throughout the West, even incompatability of 
 temper need not be proved ; for instance, husband and wife 
 have lived separate for two years : this constitutes the right to 
 divorce in Illinois. 
 
 Thus, any American or European, tired of married life, can 
 settle in bachelor quarters in Chicago, become a citizen at the 
 end of the first year, and, if he can prove that his wife has 
 never come to seek him, he is free to try new matrimonial 
 experiments, if he so desire, at the end of the second year. 
 Many people profit by such facilities, and as the riches of 
 Chicago attract crowds, hoping to make brilliant speculations 
 it has become a great place for people dissatisfied with their 
 married condition. If a New York, Boston or Philadelphia 
 husband wants to break the bonds of wedlock, he jumps on 
 the cars for Chicago. Hence, there are many jokes about the 
 divorce court, which is called the " divorce mill," about the 
 lawyers and the customs generally. Yankees are always ready 
 to chuckle about this subject. They often have good cause, 
 for alongside the sad consequences of such extreme looseness 
 of marriage bonds, there are often some grotesque results as 
 well. I have explained how common bargains are in the 
 West, and it sometimes happens that a man will exchange his 
 wife, as land or horses are exchanged. I saw a lady of respect 
 able age on an Iowa farm, of whom the following tale was 
 told : In her youth she was the wife of a cowboy who lived on 
 a lonely ranch. The owner of this ranch was affected by her 
 charms, but, reasonably enough, feared the rage of the cow-boy. 
 One fine day he sent him off to a distant market with a large 
 herd of cattle, and then telegraphed to him, "George, keep the 
 herd and I ll keep your wife." "All right," replied the un 
 scrupulous George; and to-day Mrs. X. is a prominent lady. A 
 little divorce case and a prompt marriage sufficed to set matters 
 straight. 
 
 It is possible to cite other examples of the same sort, for 
 with such easy divorcing, much prostitution assumes the as 
 pect of legal marriage. It is recognized concubinage. A 
 
286 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 young Frenchman in the West told me that he was forced, at 
 the muzzle of a revolver, to marry a St. Louis girl who had 
 lead him into a trap, but the day they were united he left her, 
 and hoped to get a divorce soon. Under these conditions one 
 asks himself what is the worth of such amends of honor. 
 The ease of divorce makes it positively illusory. 
 
 On the other hand, American morals must not be too severely 
 judged by basing the estimate of them on divorce statistics. 
 They tell of an enormous number of unhappy households; 
 but how many have we in France that are included in no 
 statistics, but which can be pointed out by everybody? In 
 America conjugal infidelity is seldom tolerated ; no civil law 
 tends to keep two people who have mutually ceased to please 
 each other in apparent harmony, and only the Catholics among 
 all the sects refuse to recognize divorces. All Protestant de 
 nominations admit the principle. One clergyman here and 
 there may refuse to unite people legally divorced, but he never 
 does so in the name of his creed ; his refusal is based on a con 
 sideration of this special case. High Church clergymen are 
 more punctilious in this respect than Methodist ministers, and 
 they must be satisfied that there were the highest reasons for 
 divorce ; but none of them teach that marriage bonds are in 
 dissoluble. 
 
 A series of moral disorders, which are hidden vices in 
 France, tend to increase the number of divorces. Secret 
 households may be avoided, but a man gets a divorce in order 
 to live with a woman he would make his mistress in other cir 
 cumstances. This is a less complicated plan than the three 
 some life (vie & trois], and it is much more prudent, for it must 
 not be forgotten that illegal concubinage has many serious 
 dangers in America. 
 
 But along with such sad facts it is necessary to remark that 
 the same portion of society preserves its respect for marriage. 
 I know an advocate who never once pleaded in a divorce case 
 during a long career, for it seemed to him to be beneath his 
 dignity, although his religion imposed no conscience scruples 
 on him. A divorced woman is not received in certain circles, 
 even in Chicago. In fact, a large number of families regard 
 divorce with the same aversion as our best French families, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 287 
 
 whether from a high standard of moral propriety or from re 
 ligious principle. The absolute opposition of the Catholic 
 Church to the undoing of marriage has helped to raise the 
 high moral position she occupies in the eye of the most re 
 spectable dissenters, who feel that there is a necessary safe 
 guard in her doctrine. Certainly, the solemn form repeated by 
 the clergyman becomes absolutely ridiculous. Why say, with 
 a grave voice, " Those whom God hath joined together let no 
 man put asunder," if facts contradict this dogmatic affirmation, 
 and if the same clergyman unite the same individual with five 
 or six women ? I remember the painful impression, which I 
 felt in spite of myself, on leaving the venerable-looking white- 
 haired Presbyterian minister blessing the young couple in 
 front of me, and reading with, a loud voice these simple and 
 beautiful words. I said to myself that doubtless he often ad 
 dressed them to people who had already been wedded, and the 
 dignity with which he bore himself, and the conviction in this 
 accent, seemed to make the anomaly still more obvious. 
 
 There is only one remedy for this scourge of divorce, and 
 it is a religious one, for the law is not sufficient. American 
 Catholics keep the Christian marriage in its purity and per 
 manence without any law texts. Despite their laws the evils 
 we have described will continue under other names. 
 
 We must now enter those American households we have 
 seen founded and dissolved. We shall be able to know them 
 better in this way by living their life and examining the vari 
 ous types into which they may be proved. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE AMERICANS AT HOME AND ABROAD. FAMILIAL HOMES. 
 NEW YORK AND BOARDING-HOUSES. THE DOMESTIC- 
 SERVANT DIFFICULTY. TRAVELLING. THE LAST JOUR 
 NEY AND THE LAST RESTING-PLACE. 
 
 I. FAMILIAL HOMES. 1 
 
 The love of independence which the American reveals by 
 so many traits is strikingly shown in a special way in every 
 home. The man who has worked hard all day, so that neither 
 he nor his family are dependent on anybody, wishes to get 
 peace or quietness once his daily task is done. His home is a 
 little sanctuary where no intruder is admitted. 
 
 There is no need for artificial isolation on Western ranch or 
 farms to avoid promiscuous crowding together ; but it is quite 
 different in the towns. Everything tends to bring people to 
 gether, to favor a social life ; yet Americans resist this as much 
 as possible, and settle in a town very much as Parisians do in 
 the country. If you desire some sort of idea of the resident- 
 quarter of an American city without leaving France, go to 
 Montmorency, to Maison-Lafitte or to Bellevue, and you will 
 see houses that are much more like Chicago residences than 
 Parisian flats. 
 
 Americans do not live in the centres of great cities, but only 
 do business there, while their families live elsewhere. This is 
 true for all American cities. In Philadelphia, St. Louis or 
 Chicago there is the same well-marked separation between 
 business and residential quarters. Every morning the street 
 cars coming from the latter are packed with passengers, and 
 
 i Readers will kindly notice that only town households are dealt with. The 
 others, on ranch and farm, and in little growing towns in the West, have been 
 described in the chapters dealing with these subjects. 
 
2QO AMERICAN LIKE. 
 
 this occurs again in the evening when there is an exodus from 
 the centre of the city. The traveller who is knocking about 
 and leaves his hotel in the morning in order to have a look at 
 the pretty surburban residences and parks, is sure to find a 
 street-car all to himself going in that direction. On a fine 
 Spring morning it is a very pleasant sensation to breathe freely 
 in the shady avenues along which some trim residence is built 
 every here and there ; and while he is congratulating himself 
 on getting out of a sickly atmosphere, every minute he passes 
 cars filled with unfortunates who are rushing to spend the 
 whole day in it. 
 
 They at least know the advantages of healthy air, and see 
 that their wives and children can enjoy it. " Buy your houses 
 on Long Island ; fresh air, quick trains, etc.," I read on a trans 
 parency one evening in New York. That laconic advertise 
 ment puts prominently forward the three desiderata of an 
 American seeking a house. First of all it must be his own ; 
 it is not enough to rent rooms, but he must have a home 
 which is his own property. If, in addition to this, breatheable 
 air is to be had, and a means of rapid transit to and from 
 business, then a most suitable residence has been found. 
 
 The newspapers are full of such advertisements, which are 
 pasted up opposite the passengers in street cars and stuck on 
 the walls in the streets. They offer the most enticing induce 
 ments, as well as philosophic reflections on the joys of home, 
 its dignity, comforts, etc. The desire to own a house is so com 
 mon that everybody is influenced by such considerations. 
 
 The dearness of land is the greatest difficulty in the way, 
 but people will go far from the town if it can be bought at a 
 reasonable price there. It is quite common for a man to live four 
 or five miles from his office and the suburbs often extend much 
 further near the railroad tracks. It is impossible to know 
 where the town ends. I hired a buggy one day in Omaha to 
 take a drive with my travelling companion. We rapidly passed 
 along avenues planted with cottonwoods and bordered by pic 
 turesque villas, without caring where we went ; and as we got 
 further away from the Missouri river the road became rougher, 
 and sometimes we had to turn back to avoid a too-deep rut or 
 a street under construction. Nevertheless, we always saw 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 2QI 
 
 houses in front of us, even when our light carriage brought us 
 to the still uncut forest, where there were many small cottages, 
 some of them quite new and elegant. Every now and then 
 a sign-post told us we were driving along some street, but in 
 reality the buggy was knocking against the great trunks of 
 trees, cut above the ground, at every turn of the wheel. We 
 tried to get back the way we had come, without success ; and 
 at last we asked a passer-by to show us the way, and found out 
 from him that our hotel was about four miles away, and that we 
 had been driving outside Omaha for more than an hour. 
 
 Houses occupied, by the comfortable classes are not so 
 uniform as workmen s dwellings, especially in their external 
 appearance, where the unexpected and fantastic rule ; but the 
 interior of the house of a beginner in business and of a rich 
 manufacturer is always arranged in much the same way. 
 
 All houses are planned to suit family life and not receptions, 
 and form a sharp contrast to our Parisian houses. There are 
 usually two salons the front and back parlors, but they are 
 small, while the other rooms are large and habitable. Here 
 is the arrangement of a very common type of two-story 
 cottage : the kitchen, dining-room, parlor and lobby are on 
 the ground floor, four rooms on the first floor, and three on the 
 second. Only the basement is built of stone, the rest being of 
 wood. Such a house can be erected for $1,200. It is not a 
 palace, but it certainly is a home where children can be brought 
 up. Of course, there are no gilded ceilings in such houses, and 
 not even special ceilings. The same arrangement of rooms will 
 be found in stone or brick houses that cost twenty times as 
 much, and which are much larger and more magnificent. 
 
 The small, narrow and dark hotels that may be found in 
 New York or Boston have the same plan. Land is dear there, 
 and the houses are built side by side ; yet each has its own en 
 trance and is a minimum home ; still it is a home. The street 
 frontage is only twenty-five feet, just enough for a narrow pas 
 sage and a front parlor. A room behind is used as the back 
 parlor, sometimes as dining-room, while a narrow staircase rises 
 from the very back of the corridor and leads to the upper 
 floors, which are entirely occupied by bed-rooms. The kitchen 
 and its auxiliaries, and sometimes even the dining-room, are on 
 
292 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 the basement floor; and there is a small court at the back of the 
 house where all washing is done and the linen hung up to dry 
 on ropes stretched in every direction. This long row of courts 
 has not a pleasant look when seen from the opposite windows ; 
 but, as they are placed between the rows of houses which line 
 the streets, they do not destroy the look of the town, and they 
 are greatly appreciated by housewives, who can do all their 
 work at home and manage without the Chinese laundry, where 
 linen is destroyed. 
 
 But the houses are not arranged for receptions or balls. The 
 suits of apartments which we value so highly are not to be 
 found here, except in the houses of certain rich citizens in the 
 East, who are anxious to imitate European customs. The long, 
 narrow lobby does not charm the eye, but it is as convenient in 
 daily life as it is ugly. At any rate, social functions are scarcely 
 possible here. The ladies have no reception days. Owing to 
 this custom of having detached houses, friends live far from 
 each other, and although rrieans of communication are not 
 lacking, they are not pleasant for a lady going to make calls. 
 People jump on to the street-cars in any order, whether there 
 are places or not, and crush against each other, sitting or stand 
 ing, as long as there is room of any kind remaining. A new 
 gown fares badly in such a crowd. You may object that a 
 lady may take a carriage, or that she may have her own turn 
 out ; but there are either none to hire or they are too expen 
 sive ; these are very exceptional, much more so than in France. 
 In short the scourge of " days " and visits has not yet crossed 
 the ocean, and if ever it does, the Americans will find their 
 houses very inconvenient for such customs. 
 
 The plan of the houses corresponds to the arrangement of 
 American life. It is individualistic. It is made to suit those 
 who live in them and not those who call in passing. Just con 
 trast them with the Italian palaces, where there are large re 
 ception-rooms that must be filled with a crowd of people before 
 they are animated ; where family life seems sad and out of pro 
 portion in such immense salons, but where magnificent feasts 
 are easily arranged. In America the houses look their best 
 when peopled by father, mother and children. 
 
 Americans usually go to the country when they lose their 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 293 
 
 idea of a home confined to the family and wish a house for en 
 tertaining. The Yankee millionaire likes to show off his splen 
 dors in a country seat, except in the palaces on Fifth avenue, 
 New York, which are a European phenomenon. Round Phila 
 delphia are many such establishments, but all are at least twenty 
 or thirty miles from the city. The rich American seeks isola 
 tion even when he is showing off his magnificent possessions, 
 and to do this he must go far beyond the suburbs. For in 
 stance, the charming residence of George W. Childs, the well- 
 known proprietor of the Public Ledger, is situated in Delaware 
 County, far enough from Philadelphia to be away from the in 
 fluence of its factories. It is one of the most elegant mansions 
 to be found anywhere, built in the English Queen Anne style, 
 and having a rustic appearance that increases its uniqueness. 
 The magnificence of the interior is in happy contrast with this 
 apparent simplicity. Imagine a princely chalet near the sea 
 shore ! 
 
 Even in New York the tendency to-day is to have a small 
 house in town and the principal residence in the country. This 
 is a reflection of English society life. The suburbs are left to 
 shop-keepers clerks and the middle-class in general. A rich 
 New Yorker would never think of building a villa on the 
 pleasant slopes of Hoboken, overlooking the bay, for the Ger 
 mans have invaded them and prevented them becoming fash 
 ionable. Even Brooklyn is not fashionable, in spite of Prospect 
 Park and the pretty views at Greenwood. Thirty miles from 
 town there is no degradation in spending a hundred thousand 
 dollars on a country-seat. 
 
 This is quite the thing to do. We French people have no 
 objections to the chateau life in Touraine in Autumn, with its 
 hunting and dining in red habits; but the elegant millionaire 
 contented with a small house in Paris is a rare bird. We are 
 too eager for the society of our fellow-beings to accept such 
 customs. Even the peasants collect into villages in France, 
 while the fund-holders settle in towns. In America the laborer, 
 the smaller master, and the rich banker vie with each other in 
 fleeing from all avoidable intercourse. 
 
294 . AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 II. NEW YORK BOARDING-HOUSES. 
 
 The enormous development of New York and of its exten 
 sions, Brooklyn and Jersey City, during the past fifty years, 
 has made the difficulties of realizing this longing for isolation 
 almost insurmountable, so that many families have been com 
 pelled to resign their independence and live in the same house. 
 This has resulted in the development of a particular style of 
 living that in boarding-houses. 
 
 The small hotels, separate from each other, that are common 
 from Thirty-sixth street onward, are rented for about 3,000 to 
 $4,000. They do not cost so much to build, but the price of 
 the site is enormous. Three, four, five and six hundred dol 
 lars are ordinarily paid for every square yard. Of course this 
 price is realized only near one of the great avenues ; but ground 
 at a reasonable rate is to be bought only far off. It is almost 
 impossible to find people who can pay the large rents result 
 ing from this condition of affairs; and, of course, still more 
 difficult to find a purchaser for a house in the center of New 
 York, which must cost, at the very least, $80,000. Hence the 
 development of a kind of pension called the boarding-house. 
 
 The boarding-house looks exactly like the private hotels of 
 which I have just spoken. The frontage is narrow, and the 
 flight of four or five steps leads to a double-leaved door, which 
 opens into a small lobby. It is a private house which has 
 altered its function. The first time I entered a boarding-house 
 I was not aware of it until fully an hour afterwards. It was in 
 Brooklyn. I had been walking about the city all day and at 
 the sight of these little houses built closely together, yet all 
 carefully separated, I had been imagining beautiful pictures of 
 family idylls. I saw in each a loved and jealously-guarded 
 home, beautified by the presence of the wife and enlivened by 
 many children playing with each other, until I became quite 
 affected by my dream. I thought of the pure and well- 
 earned joy of the husband when he came home and spent the 
 evening hours in happiness with those he supported, and I said 
 to myself that a house in Brooklyn and an office in lower 
 Broadway were the scenes of a married felicity which had its 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 295 
 
 poetic aspect. Meanwhile it came into my head to seek out a 
 young Brooklyn householder to whom I had introductions. It 
 was an opportunity of continuing my dream in the reality itself, 
 and soon I was ringing the bell at the address given. I was 
 shown into the parlor, and a few minutes later a charming 
 young lady came to receive me. " My husband* has not come 
 back yet, but there is one way that you cannot miss him, and 
 that is by staying to dinner." With an indiscretion -common 
 to travellers, I accepted this invitation, thinking to seat myself 
 at the family table ; but we went down stairs to a room in the 
 basement, where a dozen people were eating. I was in a board 
 ing-house ! Alas, my dream ! my poor dream ! That dining- 
 room had every horror of a pension bourgeoise, that make- 
 believe of family dinner which places you beside a stranger 
 and takes away the liberty of a restaurant. I felt too 
 much restraint to converse freely with the amiable American 
 who had so graciously drawn me into the trap, for the presence 
 of all these indifferent people, most of whom silently devoured 
 the boarding-house pittance at this common table, both embar- 
 assed and bored me. I was forced to talk about such subjects 
 as are discussed at the table d hote in some watering-place 
 the Paris Exposition, the steamers of the Transatlantic Com 
 pany, Brooklyn Bridge, etc.; in short, I passed that half-hour, 
 needed for the absorbtion of oyster soup and some other 
 American dishes, as best I could, inwardly raging but out 
 wardly smiling. When we had gone upstairs Mrs. R. asked 
 me if this was my first experience of a boarding-house. I 
 answered yes, and then she began to tell me the inconvenience 
 of this mode of life. 
 
 " All the day my husband is running about his business, and 
 I am left here alone, with no housekeeping to do and with 
 nothing to occupy me. As I learned a little French when I 
 was young, I sometimes amuse myself by trying some trans 
 lation." In fact a number of L? Illustration was lying on the 
 table, with a dictionary beside it, proving that she had been 
 trying to read the story. I learned that she had read "Tarta- 
 rin de Tarascon " in this way, and asked her if she found it 
 very humorous. She confessed that she had not been very much 
 interested in it ; but, then, she had to do something to kill time. 
 
296 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Compare this life, crushed by a weight of idleness, to that of 
 the active Western woman ; this scanty home, to the modest 
 and even broken-down log-house, but where they are really at 
 home ! What a contrast ! Evidently, he who sees Americans 
 only in boarding-houses must judge them unjustly, and must 
 have a very inaccurate idea of the parts they really play in the 
 onward march of society. They are the same Americans in 
 both cases if you will. Transfer them from Brooklyn to Dakota 
 or vice versa, and you will see a transformation which is brought 
 about, not by the antecedents of the race, but by different 
 conditions of life, and which makes them unrecognizable. 
 
 This idleness I have spoken of is almost without a remedy ; 
 this young lady cannot find the needed occupation in the 
 education of her children ; for, as she said to me, " It is a 
 dreadful thing to board with children ! " So they have none, 
 or as few as possible. The voluntary barrenness of which I 
 wrote in the last chapter, is most markedly prevalent here ; 
 and I am not at all astonished that statisticians report that it 
 is increasing in all the great cities of the East, especially in 
 New York and Brooklyn, where the whole middle-class is 
 condemned to boarding-house life. In the first place, where 
 could the poor children be kept? There is nowhere, for the 
 neighbors would complain of the noise, and many boarding- 
 house proprietors proscribe children with a petty tyranny of 
 which the Parisian concierge gives a very poor idea. Then, 
 how are they to be looked after? The ordinary boarding-house 
 is not suited for children, the servant embellished by the name 
 of cook, who prepares the food, has no longing to have the 
 trouble of a special kind of guest. In sum, the boarding-house 
 is not the place for them, but for bachelors. 
 
 Besides this hateful boarding-house there is another sort, 
 much more family-like, with which it must not be confounded. 
 A young man, and often a young couple, live with a private 
 family, which lodges and boards them. They are guests, in a 
 measure, an expansion of their family. This is "boarding in a 
 private family," advertised in every newspaper: 
 
 A young man would like to find a home in a good family, where there are young 
 people. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 297 
 
 A gentleman in business here, age forty, best habits, desires home in an excep 
 tionable family (no boarding-house) ; is absent half time, but pays well while here. 
 
 Board by two young men, with American family who have tennis-grounds. 
 
 Gentleman and wife, willing to pay for superior accommodation, desire rooms, 
 with board, in a private family. 
 
 Board and room, by gentleman, in private family of social standing; will pay 
 well, but must have comforts of a home. References given and required ; state 
 fully all details in answer. 
 
 This sort of boarding is exactly the opposite of the other 
 from one point of view ; for commonness is replaced by a 
 special form of adoption into the family, which shows the per 
 sistence of individualistic and family spirit, even in the midst of 
 the fatal huddling together in great cities. 
 
 It is doomed to disappear from New York, because of the 
 increasing rarity of middle-class establishments. The rich 
 Yankee, who has a home of his own, will not take in boarders ; 
 and the ordinary middle-class family, which would be happy to 
 share the cost of common housekeeping with one or two others, 
 cannot find a suitable house, as the growth of the city and the 
 resulting dearness of land, have made it out of the question. 
 
 The commonplace boarding-house, managed by somebody 
 who makes a trade of it, reigns supreme in New York. No 
 doubt this explains the origin of the myth that Americans live 
 in hotels. There is a semblance of truth in the East for such 
 a legend, which is retailed by many Europeans who do not take 
 the trouble to go and find out what takes place outside New 
 York. 
 
 I once imagined that I had discovered the American who 
 lives with his family in an immense hotel, of whom we talk in 
 France. I went to see a gentleman in Boston, to whom I car 
 ried an introduction ; and when I came to the address given 
 me I found myself in front of a great building, very unlike an 
 American residence, and read on the door, X Hotel. There 
 was no doubt about it, this gentleman lived in a hotel. I soon 
 was in the elevator, and carried up to an upper floor, where his 
 door was shown me. I rang a bell and a servant answered it. 
 I was in a Parisian flat, and my host told me that he lived in 
 this way in order to please his wife, who was used to French 
 customs. His apartments consisted of a salon, a dining-room, 
 a billiard-room, several bedrooms, a kitchen and its offices ; he 
 
298 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 had servants and lived as he would in Paris. It was a trans 
 plantation. Houses which can be let in flats are hardly to be 
 found in Boston, and the type of house built for this purpose 
 that we know in France does not exist at all. That is the 
 reason he had to go to a hotel to find rooms such as we occupy. 
 
 The cosmopolitan invasion of New York has led to the 
 building of several houses like those in Paris during the past 
 few years ; but these flats are mainly occupied by Europeans. 
 Twenty years ago they were called French-flats, and they 
 have not been naturalized yet. Of course, they clash with the 
 American feeling of independence to a less extent than the 
 boarding-houses, but the latter have the advantage of settling 
 the difficulty about domestic servants, which is a formidable 
 one in the United States. 
 
 " If I could find a girl to work for me I should leave the 
 boarding-house this very day," said my Brooklyn friend al 
 ready mentioned. This excessive difficulty of finding servants 
 is a special feature of American life. Those who are lucky 
 enough to keep a very so-so one, or are able to do without one, 
 can have a home of their own, and they go far from the centre 
 of the city to find one at a reasonable price. But those who 
 cannot find a servant and cannot do their own work are fatally 
 forced to go to a boarding-house. 
 
 So the question of domestic servants is a capital one, and de 
 termines whether housekeeping can be indulged in or not. 
 This is, therefore, the place to study it. 
 
 III. THE DOMESTIC SERVANT DIFFICULTY. 
 
 There is no need for any long discussion of the reason why 
 servants are rare in the States. We have seen already many 
 a time that in this vast country, where so much wealth is yet 
 untouched, everybody is naturally tempted to work for him 
 self and profit by the exceptional advantages of a new land. 
 The American character is suited to such enterprises ; the credit 
 system favors them, and public spirit encourages them. An 
 enterprising man, even should he fail, is much more esteemed 
 than a prudent, timorous one, who dare not attempt to rise 
 lest he should fall. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 299 
 
 Hence, nobody cares to become a servant for life, but takes 
 the position only for a certain time ; in order to make some 
 needed money. Nobody entertains the idea of living and 
 dying a servant. There are better things in life than that. 
 
 Nothing seems more ridiculous to French eyes than the 
 hired servants w.ho are to be found even in the most elegant 
 hotels. I remember the strange impression they gave me the 
 morning I left the steamer, when I compared them with the 
 dignified chief stewards who superintended the tables on board 
 ship, and who seemed to be as impressed with the gravity of his 
 duties as the most solemn president of any court of assizes. 
 The waiters wore no impenetrable mask, that wonderfully im 
 passive countenance we wish our servants to have. No special 
 sign told their occupation after they had taken off their ortho 
 dox black coats and white ties ; some wore moustaches, others 
 were clean-shaven and looked like everybody else, which, in 
 plain English, is saying they did not look well at all. 
 
 I have already told how girls who wait at table in the hotels 
 of small Western towns often marry and become prominent 
 ladies. Even before finally giving up service in this way, they 
 leave it and take it up again with great ease. This waiting is 
 a temporary occupation for them, an additional way of ma 
 king a living, to which they resort when other means fail. 
 
 An American in St. Louis told me a very curious case of 
 this. He had a German cook who worked for him during the 
 six Winter months, and who returned to her father s farm 
 every Spring. He had tried to keep her by offering her very 
 high wages ; he had threatened not to take her back again the 
 following Winter, but in vain. This young German left St. 
 Louis whenever she was needed on the farm, and spent the 
 Summer at home, so as to help in the farm-work. This girl 
 was not a servant at heart, but a farmer. She sought a situa 
 tion during the bad season, as there was nothing for her to do, 
 and she did not wish to be a burden at home ; or perhaps to 
 help her father to pay his mortgages, which I suppose this 
 Missourri farmer must have had over his farm, to get the 
 money needed for working it efficiently. 
 
 The most remarkable part of the story is that, as this St. 
 Louis family could not find a servant who would stay all the 
 
300 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 year, it was arranged that the wife and daughters should take 
 turns at cooking during the Summer, and that this farm-girl 
 should come back in Winter. 
 
 It would not be half so bad if these servants were reasonable; 
 if one could ring the bell and give them an order without being 
 continually exposed to the chances of a refusal of obedience. 
 One must think twice before giving an order to an American 
 servant. She does not understand that she is at your service 
 to do whatever you ask ; but she has come on certain condi 
 tions, to do certain definite work, and before obeying your 
 commands she aluays asks herself if they conform to the con 
 tract. This complicates matters still more, for it is always 
 possible to interpret a contract about the thousand details of 
 service in two ways. So it may be a serious thing to say to a 
 servant in the Umted States, " Nicole, give me my slippers and 
 bring my night-cap." A young lady in Kansas one day asked 
 her girl to clean her husband s rubbers ; but she indignantly 
 refused, and demanded her wages. She had never been told 
 she was to clean gentlemen s rubbers ! 
 
 It is impossible to get even a cup of tea in hotels after a cer 
 tain hour. The servants have left when their work was finished, 
 and have all gone home. Those who wait up to receive visitors 
 do it as their work ; they never enter the pantry, but politely 
 inform any who may ask for the slightest refreshment that 
 there are night restaurants in town. That was the reception I 
 got at Pittsburg, after a long voyage, complicated by a railroad 
 smash. We were stopped for three or four hours, because the 
 track was blocked in front of us by a freight train which had 
 run off the rails ; so that instead of arriving at 8 o clock, it 
 was nearly midnight when we drew up at the depot in Pitts- 
 burg. The dinner hour had long passed when I reached the 
 hotel, and that was exactly the reason I was dying of hunger, 
 in spite of frequent attacks on bananas and oranges, which are 
 always sold on board the cars. So I have never forgotten the 
 peremptory refusal of the clerk to let me have any food, and 
 his polite request to go and seek a night restaurant. 
 
 American servants work by the piece, are completely inde 
 pendent, and do nothing for the master except the work agreed 
 upon ; and it seems quite improper to them that he should 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 3<DI 
 
 watch over their action or give them counsel. If you have a 
 young chambermaid, she will receive her lover, go out when it 
 suits her, and generally act exactly as she pleases outside the 
 work hours fixed in the agreement. Note, however, that she 
 would do much the same if she were living with her mother. 
 Girls brought up as we have described will not agree to be 
 strictly kept in, and these customs of the servants are only 
 those of the whole nation. The smallness of their numbers in 
 creases their fastidiousness, and it is not enough to say that 
 one is badly served in America, for the truth is one is not 
 served at all. 
 
 While in the West I three or four times made the mistake 
 of going to a house with a letter of introduction, giving it to the 
 person who opened the door and asking her to give it to her 
 master, when that person opened it in my presence and I sud 
 denly realized she was mistress of the house. Each time I 
 bitterly reproached myself for not having imagined this to be 
 probable, but appearances are sometimes deceitful, and I was 
 really excusable ; especially on one occasion, when the young 
 woman who answered the bell wore a pretty little white apron 
 trimmed with embroidery, and led a child by the hand. Ho\\ 
 was I to know that she was not a nurse ? I petted the child 
 to repair my mistake and went into ecstasies about his pretti- 
 ness an innocent little manoeuvre that a mother never can re 
 sist. I must add that throughout the States of the extreme 
 West servants are so rare that nobody is the least put out by 
 having to open the door oneself. 
 
 Sometimes there are no servants in the East, even in houses 
 of the rich. I have dined in very elegant houses where there 
 was no butler, no valet nor footman of any sort. I know a 
 Bostonian who has an income of about $80,000 a year, all of 
 which he spends, in whose house I once had a dinner, with 
 fourteen other guests, which was served by one girl who crossed 
 the dining-room every now and then. The dishes were passed 
 from hand to hand ; the plates were not changed ; the mistress 
 of the house made tea. A hard-up official in France dare not 
 ask any stranger to dine with him so very informally. 
 
 There are many Americans in Eastern towns who realize 
 this, and blush to offer a European the hospitality of their 
 
302 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 comfortable and well-appointed homes, yet without any of that 
 service to which we are accustomed. They are simpler and 
 more hospitable in the West. The difference is great enough 
 for Americans to notice and make fun of it. They tell a story 
 of a stranger received with open arms in the West, who arrived 
 in Boston and was astonished at the cold welcome he had. 
 Houses were closed to him, and nobody asked him to his table ; 
 only one old Puritan said to him : " I hope you will sit in my 
 pew next Sunday." 
 
 The joke is just. 
 
 You may ask, why do not rich Easterners bring servants from 
 Europe by offering them large wages. There are plenty of people 
 in the Paris streets who are capable of becoming proper valets 
 and to whom $60 a month would not be disagreeable. But here 
 in New York it is difficult to find servants. 
 
 Europe does not refuse to send poor immigrants to America, 
 for a large number come every year from Ireland and Germany, 
 who engage themselves as domestic servants when they arrive ; 
 but they, also, imbibe the desire for independence so common 
 in the United States, and take their leave whenever they have 
 saved enough to invest in some undertaking or another. 
 French cooks become restaurateurs ; Germans keep small hotels. 
 The more they are paid, the quicker comes the moment they 
 think of starting for themselves. Of course, plenty of them 
 are incapable of doing this, and drink whiskey as long as they 
 have a dollar left ; but such people are very bad servants, as 
 can easily be imagined ; and do not lose a place of their own 
 free will, but are shown the door, which does not settle the 
 question. 
 
 The steady, quiet servant, who only aspires to retire in old 
 age with some carefully-gathered savings, is too prudent to 
 cross the Atlantic. A man with such a temperament does not 
 forsake his country, and so the only people who could remain 
 valets never cross the ocean. 
 
 Willing or unwilling, it is necessary to learn how to manage 
 without them. A large number of rich Americans in New 
 York, refined in their manners, imitate Mahomet s example, 
 and go to the mountain, which will not come to them. Hence, 
 the American invasion of the Champs-Elysees. Others are 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 303 
 
 constantly changing their servants, travel frequently, and go to 
 dine at Delmonico s when their cook leaves them. The ma 
 jority find shelter in boarding-houses. 
 
 True Americans do not flee this evil, but endure it and try 
 to obviate it. The women resolutely work in the house and 
 simplify things as much as possible, while the world goes on as 
 usual. As many things can be done by machinery in this age 
 of steam, mechanical contrivances of all sorts are introduced 
 as much as possible. 
 
 Nothing is more curious than the basement of an American 
 house, which looks like the lower part of a theatre. There is an 
 infinity of lead pipes and metal wires for the water, gas, steam 
 and electricity, which come from outside, and the connections 
 of the steam-heater or some other warming apparatus neces 
 sary to combat the cold climate of America. The use of all 
 these pipes, etc., can be seen upstairs. Electric light or gas, 
 often both, are led into every corner; a dressing-room opens 
 out of each bedroom and has taps for hot and cold water; the 
 bathroom is complete in every respect. All the house is 
 heated and lighted from cellar to garret for the comfort of its 
 occupiers, and ease of washing, drying, ironing, cooking, etc., 
 without counting the telephone and telegraph, indispensible 
 accompaniments of American life. In the same houses, where 
 you are waited on by a newly-landed German or Irish girl, you 
 will find this luxury of contrivances and of expensive lighting, 
 which seems exaggerated to many French people who have 
 numerous servants. 
 
 This mechanism is still more complex in hotels. There is a 
 disc of copper on the walls of rooms in the Auditorium Hotel 
 in Chicago, by means of which an order can be sent to the 
 office without disturbing anyone. Twenty-four different 
 orders are printed round the disc. Here are some examples : 
 Iced-water, letters and parcels, hotel bill, send up my baggage, 
 take down my baggage, writing materials, and carriage, wine- 
 list, etc. One turns a moveable needle to the words u hotel- 
 bill " when he wants to settle, and then presses the button of 
 the electric-bell in the centre of the disc. Immediately after 
 wards the needle sways back to its normal position, and shows 
 that your order has been received at the office. It takes a lot 
 
304 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 of money to fit up things like this, but it pays the hotel- 
 managers better than to keep servants to answer the bell. 
 
 IV. TRAVELLING. 
 
 It is necessary to study the Americans abroad, as well as at 
 home, in order to understand their ways of living. They seem 
 to be consumed with a restless desire of moving about, which 
 makes them constant travellers. The well-to-do classes, espe 
 cially, spend a large part of the year on the cars, on board ship, 
 in Florida Winter resorts or Adirondack Summer stations, in 
 Europe anywhere except at home. Those who are chained 
 to their work by too modest means, always manage to break 
 their bonds sometime or other, so widely spread is the desire 
 for going about. 
 
 A New York business man brings discredit on himself if he 
 does not goto breathe the fresh air of the mountains at the 
 times of great heat, and warm himself in the Florida sunshine 
 during cold periods; for it proves that he has not been getting 
 on well. There is no need of making a prolonged stay in 
 either of the places ; for the further he goes the shorter time 
 need he stay, the more must he spend, and the more will he 
 be noticed. All these things show that his time is precious 
 and that he is worth money. 
 
 The climate of America justifies this fashion of taking a 
 change of air. The climate of New York is deplorable ; one 
 freezes in Winter, for the polar currents are strong enough to 
 cause the temperature to fall very low, and the humidity of 
 Manhattan Island gives the cold an intense bitterness and pen 
 etration. Yet New York is fairly near the equator, about as 
 near as Naples, so it is the scene of constant struggles in Sum 
 mer between cold polar elements and the great heat of the sun. 
 I have seen a June day begin with a leaden sky and a heat like 
 that of an oven, and end in a violent squall which suddenly 
 chilled the air. In Winter one shivers at 30 C. below zero, 
 and in the middle of Summer one drags himself along, flabby 
 and worn out, at 30 or 40 C. above zero. 
 
 The best climate is to be found on the East coast, south of 
 New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington ; but in 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 305 
 
 the Northwest the difference between extremes of tempera 
 ture is much more marked. The immense plain of the Missis 
 sippi Valley, open to every wind and far" removed from 
 oceanic influences, except in the South, suffers from the most 
 violent storms, cyclones and blizzards. Louisville was lately 
 devastated by a terrible cyclone ; while in Chicago, during the 
 Summer of 1890, fifty people died of sunstroke in one day, 
 horses fell down in the streets, struck down by the terrible 
 heat of the sun, and even dogs did not escape. That happened 
 in the month of July, yet they had had ice a few weeks before, 
 early in May. 
 
 Americans do not travel only to avoid the inconvenience of 
 climate, but also to escape from business and get a rest. To 
 go abroad, to break his fetters, what a dream for a man who 
 works all day ! The fatigues of travel are nothing to the ease 
 of mind he obtains. A Chicago advocate said to me one day : 
 " Well, now, there is only one place in the world where I 
 really am sure of a rest, and that is on the Ocean. There I 
 know neither letter nor telegram will reach me, and I thor 
 oughly enjoy being allowed to live at ease. After the trans 
 atlantic steamers, the most healthful rest I get is in Europe, 
 especially in France. Everybody in Paris seems to be holy- 
 daying, and the mere sight of the Champs-Elysees or of a 
 Boulevard eases my nerves. When I am utterly worn out I 
 do not consult my physician, but jump on board the first 
 steamer sailing for Europe, and return cured a month later." 
 
 These voyages in search of health explain the purely vege 
 tative life Americans lead during a vacation. In Florida they 
 swing themselves in a rockingchair for hours on end, with 
 dreamy eyes, their head hung down and their feet on the 
 highest object they can reach in the neighborhood. There 
 must be a great need of rest before this monotonous exercise 
 can be agreeable. This is not the most favorable moment for 
 judging a Yankee; it is a passive phase, a stopping-time in 
 their life. Even during the passage across the ocean many 
 never talk or do anything except walk mechanically to and 
 fro on deck. While Brazilians and the South-Americans smoke 
 enormous cigars and play heavily, and the French commercial 
 traveller organizes a concert or makes bad puns, the true Yan- 
 
 
306 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 kee seems indifferent to all around, and yawns with open 
 mouth. The great sight of nature appears to have little effect 
 on him, and when the setting sun sinks below the horizon of 
 limitless sea and its dying rays light up the waves with a 
 thousand glorious colors, he does not seem to pay the slightest 
 attention. You may be inclined to think him stupid, but it is 
 well to suspend your judgment till you see him in his proper 
 element. 
 
 In fact, everybody looks rather stupid on board. Nothing 
 reveals the man of worth during that chance meeting-time, 
 when idleness is unavoidable and every faculty, usually active, 
 is perforce asleep. The most prominent man is he who helps 
 you to pass the time, who sings a song, for instance. He is 
 usually a dawdler by profession, and Americans do not follow 
 that trade, but are only occasionally idle, or rather never are 
 idle, for their rest is a preparation for work. 
 
 The American finds another advantage in voyages, a new 
 opportunity of using his eyes. He does not usually draw his 
 knowledge from books, but educates himself in the school of 
 life. He is neither a learned man nor a dainty one, but he is 
 an observer. He makes a note of everything he sees, because 
 he has been trained to do so, and he has a special curiosity to 
 examine into the details of everything. Though he may not be 
 affected by a grand sunset in mid-ocean, yet he never neglects 
 to visit the ship s engines, to get the machinery explained and 
 to admire its power. He learns these many facts and stores 
 them in his memory, lest they should be useful some day. He 
 visits museums abroad to learn what is in them, without being 
 greatly interested in the things themselves ; he inspects the 
 gas-burners to find out whether they give more or less light 
 than those at home ; inquires about statistics, examines the 
 resources of the country, and finds out how the peasants, labor 
 ers and clerks live. Many Americans have astonished me when 
 relating what they noticed about such things in France. Travel 
 is considered a necessary supplement to instruction by them* 
 as a means of comparing men and things, in different circum. 
 stances; as a way of gaining experience. So, for one reason or 
 another, they develop a habit of going around on every occa 
 sion, and then their business keeps them moving about, so that 
 it is easy to explain their perpetual motion. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 307 
 
 One consequence is that hotels, cars and steamers are 
 excellently arranged. In the halls of all rather important hotels, 
 you can buy your railroad ticket, hire a seat in the theatre, 
 take out an insurance policy, find a notary public to authen 
 ticate any contracts, or a shorthand writer to take down and 
 print your letters with a typewriter ; a bookseller to sell you 
 stamps ; and then there is always a letter-box, telegraph and 
 telephone. The hotel-porter gets your baggage taken away 
 by an express company, which forwards them to your desti 
 nation, where you will find them on arrival. In short, every 
 thing is arranged to make travelling easy and, above all, to 
 prevent any loss of time. 
 
 The railroad companies are able to issue tickets at very 
 reasonable rates, because of the large number of passengers, 
 and they are forced to do so by competition. A first-class 
 ticket (the only class) from New York to Chicago costs $20.80, 
 somewhat less than from Paris to Marseilles, for a much greater 
 distance (920 in place of 536 miles). That is the official rate, 
 but competition often lowers it, so that railroad travelling in 
 America costs just about half what it does in France for the 
 same distance. 
 
 By paying $2.00 a day and $2.00 a night more, you can 
 travel in a Pullmann car, which offers many conveniences. 
 During the day you have a seat twice as large as in the 
 ordinary cars ; a smoking-room and lavatory for men are at 
 one end of each car, and a ladies room at the other ; and 
 you can always walk back into a dining-car. During the night, 
 your seat is changed to a comfortable bed, much better than 
 that of European sleeping-cars. A negro, who has become 
 most polite under Mr. Pullman s influence, brushes your clothes, 
 blackens your boots and receives your "tip * with a smile. 
 
 That is not the only convenience. By paying a little more 
 you may have a state-room, special rooms like cabins de luxe 
 of an Atlantic liner, where you can be quite alone. The fore 
 seeing companies who own certain much-frequented lines 
 supply all materials for doing correspondence, taking a bath, 
 getting shaved, etc. Here is a list of the advantages offered 
 by the Pennsylvania Railroad on its New York and Chicago 
 route : 
 
308 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 "At 10 A. M. the New York and Chicago Limited leaves, 
 composed exclusively of vestibuled Pullman cars communicat 
 ing with each other, parlor-cars and state-rooms, dining-car and 
 smoking-room, and observatory-cars for viewing the country. 
 Financial intelligence, stenographers, typewriters, bath-rooms 
 for both sexes, chamber-maids, barber, library and every con 
 venience of a home and an office. Steam-heated, electric-light 
 from fixed or movable lamps. Arrives in Chicago at 9:45 the 
 next morning." 
 
 It is evidently possible to live in such a house on wheels for 
 several days without being annoyed or fatigued. When a 
 journey has to be made between two towns a hundred leagues 
 apart, the best way is to make it by night. You go to bed in 
 the evening and the negro wakes you the next morning in 
 time to dress before arriving at your destination. By doing 
 this you have spent only your sleeping hours in travel, and 
 you can do your business during the day, a hundred leagues 
 from where you worked the day before. Everything is ar 
 ranged to suit those who have no time to lose, because such 
 people form the mass of the population. In France, they are 
 found as exceptions, among manufacturers and traders; for the 
 proprietor, the fund-holder or the official have no need of such 
 haste ; and instead of spending the hours of travel in writing 
 business letters, they rest during their journey and leave all 
 serious work for a new day. 
 
 V. THE LAST JOURNKY AND THE LAST RESTING-PLACE. 
 
 Even after he is dead, an American travels quickly, and the 
 hearse carries him to the cemetery at a trot ; for his relatives 
 and friends doubtless cannot accompany him except on this 
 condition. The first time I saw a funeral procession move past 
 at a rapid rate I frankly confess I was shocked. The majesty 
 of death seemed to me to fit badly with the burning haste of 
 the long line of carriages. There is more solemnity and dig 
 nity in the funeral processions we have in France. 
 
 I do not believe that this precipitancy to get rid of their 
 friends arises from any lack of respect on the part of Amer 
 icans, for many little things prove just the contrary. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 309 
 
 First of all, the rest of the funeral rites. The coffins are 
 sometimes magnificent and often cost immense sums. I was 
 told in a little Kansas town that the cheapest there were $30 
 or $40. 
 
 In early times, before the days of railroads, people had to 
 be contented with four planks nailed together, or some pack 
 ing case. These were the heroic days, when the brave pioneer 
 who died far from home was buried on the battlefield. No 
 doubt this happens to-day in some regions of the Far West, 
 where there is no railroad ; but everywhere else the greatest 
 importance is attached to this material mark of respect. 
 
 A still higher moral and religious care is shown, and every 
 where there is some thought often very obscure, but always 
 serious of the world beyond. In a small Kansas village I met 
 an old settler who had come out before any clergymen, and, 
 being better educated than most of his neighbors, was 
 always asked by them to conduct the funeral services. He 
 used to read several prayers at the side of the grave from a 
 prayer-book he had brought from Europe, in the little bundle 
 of an immigrant ; and this little ceremony testified at least to a 
 sincere belief in a future life. 
 
 In lower Broadway, in the busiest part of New York, a 
 couple of steps from Wall street and the immense Equitable 
 Building, stands St. Paul s Church, surrounded by its parish 
 graveyard, as was the universal custom in olden days. The 
 most recent gravestones are dated 1840, and no burials take 
 place there now ; while dates as far back as 1630 are perfectly 
 legible. It is piously cared for, and I do not think that any 
 Yankee ever had the idea of expressing dissatisfaction with this 
 ground remaining as it is, in spite of its enormous value. An 
 other graveyard surrounds the old South Church, in Washing 
 ton street, Boston, and I could give many other examples of 
 the same thing. It is impossible not to be struck by the re 
 markable contrast which exists between the extraordinary 
 bustle of the streets, and the eternal repose of the tomb ; and 
 it is also an instinctive contrast, for it shows a great respect for 
 the dead. None of our large towns in France show anything 
 like the activity of New York ; and not one of them has pre 
 served a cemetery inside its bounds. Barracks, theatres, large 
 
310 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 flats have been built on such ground without any thought 
 about the profanation of the deed. In this, Young America 
 has shown itself less utilitarian and more respectful than some 
 of its elders. 
 
 It would be a very great mistake to represent Americans as 
 enemies of tradition. In their case, desire for novelty goes 
 well enough along with a worship of the past, for historical and 
 social reasons I believe I can explain. They never have had 
 any idea of breaking with the past, as we in France have, 
 because their rulers have never interfered with their natural 
 development, no heavy hand has stayed their flight, no abso 
 lute power has attempted to enslave them. Everybody in 
 France still feels he belongs to past or to present, because of 
 his birth and opinions. Many narrow ideas shield themselves 
 behind the expression, " I am a man of olden times ;" many 
 hatreds and jealousies are summed up in this one, " I am a man 
 of to-day." It may be said that the two parties camp face to 
 face in the battlefield of the nineteenth century. Instead of 
 working together for future good, they retard it by discussing 
 the past with present day passions. It is a sad heritage, left us 
 by ancient civil discords, born of ancient social wrongs. At 
 one period of our history one class abused another in our 
 nation, to the great detriment of both, and we still suffer for that 
 fault. Here there are neither ancient animosities nor old 
 sympathies in connection with the past, and so the common 
 right to everybody s respect has been preserved. 
 
 The need for forming cemeteries outside grew with the 
 development of great cities. Many of these are well worth a 
 visit. 
 
 Forest Hill Cemetery at Boston and Greenwood Cemetery 
 at Brooklyn are among the most remarkable and fashionable. 
 One cannot enter them without being struck by their resem 
 blance to the fashionable quarter of American cities. Just 
 imagine an immense park with a splendid view, especially at 
 Greenwood, and a few tombs, scattered about the park almost 
 at random. It is a triumph of custom and is the last expression 
 of the liking for independence. 
 
 In place of the solemn compact rows of Pere-Lachaise, the 
 pretty walks follow the natural slope of the hill and wind 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 311 
 
 round beautiful little lakes. Here and there are beds of 
 flowers, masses of shrubs, some huge forest trees, making the 
 most of the salient points and harmonizing with the architec 
 ture of the monuments. It is the fantastic English garden 
 contrasted with the spacious symmetrical French gardens ; the 
 independence of a picturesque family home compared with the 
 promiscuity of the magnificent Parisian barracks. It is 
 curious to note how the profound differences which exist 
 between American society and our own are shown by these 
 details seemingly so unimportant. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 DAILY LIFE. MEDALS. DRUNKENNESS. -- TEMPERANCE. 
 
 SOCIETIES AND PROHIBITION. DRESS. AMERICAN 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 I have tried to describe the frame of an American s life. I 
 have lead my readers into the home or the boarding-house in 
 which he lives ; I have taken them on board the Pullman cars 
 in which he travels, and brought them to the tomb where he 
 rests; and now I must describe for them the various acts which 
 make up his daily life. 
 
 Perhaps this anxiety to see and examine everything may 
 seem childish, but just think how we pass our life, judging our 
 fellow-mortals by their manners of eating, of dressing, of amus 
 ing themselves ; and that the different peoples of the world are 
 most easily distinguished by the thousand details of customs 
 which they have, rather than by the noble sentiments which 
 stir the heart of all humanity ! I trust I shall, therefore, be par 
 doned for giving so much prominence to these traits of custom 
 which form the peculiarity of a race. Some of them will help 
 us to understand the Yankee spirit much better than the most 
 learned discourse on the Federal Constitution ; and so, with 
 your permission, we shall seat ourselves at an American table. 
 
 MEALS. 
 
 One evening in New York I saw a pantomine representing 
 the morning toilet of a gentleman. The actor came on the 
 stage with his eyes heavy with sleep and his hair all dishevelled, 
 rapidly passed some water over his face, bathed his hands in 
 the basin of water, and, addressing his wife, cried, with a voice 
 like thunder, " Breakfast ready ?" The audience applauded 
 enthusiastically, showing how true to life the acting was. The 
 
314 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 first thing an American does is to bolt his breakfast, then 
 jump on to the platform of a street-car or climb on to the 
 steps of a car on the Elevated, so as to reach his office by 8 
 o clock at the latest. 
 
 His breakfast is not a simple cup of tea or chocolate, but 
 something more substantial, that will allow him to keep up 
 until his evening dinner, with the help of a rapid lunch, which 
 he eats during the afternoon. 
 
 He takes a serious breakfast : beefsteak, cutlets, bacon are 
 the common dishes, along with eggs and oatmeal porridge. He 
 swallows all these with the greatest rapidity, because it is getting 
 late; so, in order to save time he outrageously breaks the laws 
 of gastronomy. The minute he seats himself in a restaurant 
 the waiter sets down a plate with oranges or bananas on the 
 table, and he eats his dessert while the meat ordered is being 
 cooked, after which he passes to the second course in the form 
 of porridge, because it can be served in a few minutes ; and then 
 he eats his beefsteak, since it requires more time to cook. "Eat 
 to live and do not live to eat " should be written in American 
 restaurants, as in Harpagon s dining-room, only it is not a fear 
 of wasting food that brings about these crimes against gas 
 tronomy, but a dread of wasting time. 
 
 This is also the first thought at lunch, only it is more marked. 
 One must have entered some bar in business quarters between 
 i and 3 o clock in order to understand it. Gentlemen, with 
 their hats on, stand in a long line beside the counter, on which 
 are cold meats, piles of sandwiches, cakes, beer, iced-water, all 
 within arm s length. In five minutes they manage to gulp down 
 a certain amount of food, pay and go. An intelligent bar 
 keeper attracts customers by the facilities he can offer for rapid 
 feeding. " Try our quick lunch " is stuck up in the streets. 
 Its quality does not much matter; what is most desired is 
 something that will not hinder business, that does not cut the 
 day in two. Sometimes, in order to be surer of this result, a 
 man sends out for sandwiches and devours them in his office. 
 The great business buildings I have described always contain a 
 restaurant, where the tenants can lunch without going outside. 
 
 Lunch is served very rapidly, even in the most fashionable 
 clubs. Of course, one sits down at a table for a real meal 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 315 
 
 there, but the courses are quickly changed, and nobody lingers 
 to slowly smoke while sipping his coffee. 
 
 The Yankee has not time to eat until he comes home after 
 his work is over; and even then, he too often retains that in 
 veterate bad habit I have described of bolting his food. His 
 stomach protests energetically. Dyspepsia, which is about to 
 be naturalized in France, reigns supreme in the United States, 
 as the numerous remedies that are advertised for it plainly 
 show. It has become in a measure constitutional. 
 
 The cooking probably also helps to bring this about. Not 
 only do people eat quickly, but they feed badly; they do not 
 know how to eat. A young Frenchman, exiled in the West, 
 said tome: " My sister-in-law, an American, opens seven or 
 eight boxes of preserves to entertain me when I call on her. 
 It is the only idea she has of a good meal. The contents of 
 one of these boxes, decently prepared, would be more accept 
 able." There is the American character! Buy a stock of 
 groceries as nourishment, and not take the trouble necessary 
 to eat well; just as in the packing-houses, animals thoroughly 
 fattened on maize are brought in, yet go out as badly-cut and 
 often tough meat. Waste and carelessness everywhere prove 
 the abundance of all things and the scarcity of handwork ; for, 
 mark you, American cooking, or rather absence of cooking, has 
 no other cause. It is worse in the West than in the East, as 
 these causes are more pronounced. Meat costs eight cents a 
 pound in Kansas, while a French cook can make $100 a month 
 in the smallest hotel. The great majority of respectable peo 
 ple do without servants, and the mother, forced to bring up her 
 children and sweep the house, has no time to look after the 
 oven. Compare her circumstances with those of a French 
 mother of the same class the wife of a petty official. The 
 latter pays ten times more to the butcher, grocer and baker 
 than she gives to her girl for doing everything. If she is a 
 good housekeeper she manages to spend as little as possible 
 in purchases, and economizes provisions by using her own and 
 her servant s time in making the most of them in the cooking. 
 In the one case the husband earns plenty money, and his wife 
 cannot help him ; in the other the husband has a small salary, 
 but his wife has time to help him by making it go further or 
 by seeing that her cook does so. 
 
316 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 The cooks in hotels are always French, and one would be 
 able to eat in a supportable way were it not for the American 
 custom of serving meals, which spoils them. Their custom is 
 to set everything ordered, and some other dishes as well, on the 
 table at once, forming a circle of small plates, where the meats 
 grow cold. They concede you one empty plate, surrounded by 
 this semi-circle of smaller plain plates, or rather small, hollow 
 oval objects, something like a bird s bath. The real Yankee 
 does not use this plate much, but plunges his fork at random into 
 the little baths, fishes out something from the confused heap, or 
 makes the most formidably-seasoned mixtures of a thousand 
 different ingredients, after which he imagines he has dined. 
 
 It is impossible to make the negroes of an hotel-on-the- 
 American-plan understand that one wants to dine on three or 
 four of the dishes detailed in the lengthy menu which they 
 give you, and to eat only one thing at a time. One must 
 either resign himself to the usual custom, or die of hunger. 
 Hence the embarrassment of a Frenchman in face of a bill of 
 fare such as this one, which I came across in my notes : 
 
 DINNER. 
 
 Blue Point Oysters. 
 
 Water Cresses. 
 Cream of Lettuce. Consomme Macedoine. 
 
 Planked Shad, Roe Sauce. 
 Sliced Tomatoes. Potatoes Parisienne. 
 
 Devilled Crabs. 
 
 Roast Ribs of Beef. Roast Capon. 
 
 Spring Lamb and Mint Sauce. 
 
 Filet of Beef, Larded, Truffle Sauce. 
 Chicken Croquettes, French String Beans. 
 
 Omelet a la Celestine, 
 
 New Potatoes ; Tomatoes ; Onions ; Oyster Plant ; Rice ; 
 
 Cream Spinach ; Pies; Beets; 
 
 Spaghetti, with Cheese. 
 
 Roman Punch. 
 
 Mallard Duck. 
 
 Chicken. Lobsters. Lettuce. 
 
 Bota Pudding. 
 Mince Pie. Apple Pie. 
 
 Fancy Cake. Call s Foot Jelly. 
 
 Ice Cream. Confectionery. 
 
 Fruits, Nuts, Ci ackers and Cheese. 
 
 Coffee. 
 Sunday, March 23, 1890. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 317 
 
 The wasteful character I noted above is easily seen in this 
 menu, and the way it is arranged shows the desire to eat 
 quickly without having to wait for one s neighbor, as at a 
 table d hote ; without being forced to any order of service, as 
 in a restaurant. Of fifteen dishes served, five will remain 
 untouched, the rest tasted, but only two or three really 
 eaten. 
 
 French cooks protest against these barbarous customs, 
 whereby the results of their skill are spoiled. One of them 
 once said : " It is a pity, sir, to give such good things to such a 
 blackguard (goujat) \ " Some, paid the salary of a General 
 of Division by some rich American, impose our customs as 
 much as possible, and prepare reasonable menus in which 
 French names get badly mangled in a most amusing way, as 
 in this example one among a thousand : 
 
 Potage. 
 Consomme Alphabet. 
 
 Hors d Noeurves. 
 Celery. Raves. Olives. 
 
 Poisson. 
 
 Poummie de Terre Dauphin. 
 Colete d Agneau a la Mirabeau. 
 
 Petit Pois Vert. 
 Sorbet a la Neapolitain. 
 
 Rotis. 
 
 Jeune Poulet au Cresson. 
 Asperges en Salade. 
 
 Entrements Fraizes. 
 
 Creme a la Glace. Gateau. 
 
 Cafe Noir. 
 
 It is easily seen that gastronomy has not become a National 
 art in the United States. 
 
 When a New York millionaire wishes to give a great dinner, 
 it often happens that he asks his guests to come to Delmon- 
 ico s, the best and most fashionable of American restaurateurs. 
 When this is the case, he arranges to have something extraor 
 dinary to offer his friends, something that will be noticed and 
 spoken about ; for the subtle charm of company of guests, 
 specially chosen by him, and a well-served dinner, are not 
 enough. One of my French friends in New York told me 
 that he had been at a dinner of this sort where each cover cost 
 
318 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 $80. There was a pool of water in the middle of the table in 
 which an unlucky swan floated after its wings had been removed. 
 Every lady found a bouquet of rare flowers at her place, and 
 each guest received the menu engraved on metal. Such extrava 
 gances are disgusting to European tastes ; but they cost many 
 dollars and do not need the complex and educated taste of a 
 gourmet of high standing to value them at their worth ; so they 
 suit rich Yankees wonderfully well. 
 
 Except at such feasts where champagne flows in streams, 
 iced-water is the only drink used during dinner. At breakfast 
 tea, coffee or milk are often drunk, but no intoxicating liquor 
 appears on the table. A man must be German or French to 
 ask for beer or wine. Is all America sober? Not at all; but 
 the subject is so important that I must enlarge on it a little. 
 
 I. DRUNKENNESS, TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES AND PROHIBITION. 
 
 Americans may be divided into two classes water-drinkers 
 and drunkards. The American who knows how to use alcohol 
 in a reasonable way does not yet exist. 
 
 I knew a genuine Yankee of old Puritan stock and of high 
 social standing who, at the age of sixty, had never tasted wine, 
 spirits, tea nor coffee. One day, when he had to speak on a 
 very important question, he was unfortunately suffering from a 
 sick headache. His friends persuaded him to drink a cup of 
 coffee as a medicine. He did so, but even to-day he still 
 seems to regret this infraction of his principles. 
 
 I know another Yankee, also a genuine specimen, but of 
 German origin, a member of the House of Representatives. 
 This amiable legislator one day offered to introduce me to the 
 various drinks used in the bars. As it was an experience which 
 had its interests, I accepted his offer, and I must say that it 
 would have been difficult to find a more experienced guide. I 
 was not spared a single cocktail, those skilled combinations of 
 whiskey, ice, sherry, seltzer-water and champagne, which the 
 barkeeper, standing behind the counter, stirs with a trained 
 hand. I had a severe headache that evening, but about 8 
 o clock my guide became somewhat uncertain, while still ex 
 perimenting; so I returned to my hotel and dined alone with a 
 glass of iced-water in front of me. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 319 
 
 Since then these two people have often come into my mind 
 as types of the two varieties of Americans I have mentioned 
 above. The first consists of many Puritans, clergymen and 
 women ; all who aspire to a certain respectability of manners 
 or who pride themselves on the inflexibility of their principles 
 join this class, so that it includes all sorts of people, from the 
 Catholic bishop, inspired with a high sense of his mission and 
 saddened by some deplorable cases in his flock, to the stiff 
 gentleman, somewhat of a Pharisee, who will tell you with 
 great gravity, * I never smoke, I never drink, I never chew and 
 I never swear." The one does it for conscientious reasons, the 
 other as a matter of form and a declaration, signifying in plain 
 English, " I am a perfectly well-bred gentleman." 
 
 The second class is recruited from the Irish and German 
 immigrants and the native-born American with a craving for 
 alcohol. The immigrants come from a poor country, where the 
 vine does not grow ; they cannot stand strong liquor, and easily 
 get tipsy in a land where they are well paid for their work. 
 The others have been brought up to consider the drinking of 
 a single glass of claret a manifestation of vice, so they go to 
 the very extreme of disgrace and are to be seen at I o clock in 
 the morning, reeling along the street, waiting " till their house 
 comes past." They probably drank nothing but iced-water at 
 dinner; yet the devil lost nothing by that. 
 
 There is a small, modest-looking bar on Pennsylvania avenue, 
 in Washington, where the best first-class drinks are to be had. 
 Hancock s bar is entered with respect, and is a place of pilgrim 
 age for certain members of Congress, because of the number of 
 their predecessors who come there to seek inspiration for their 
 eloquence. Right around the long room, narrow and dark, 
 historic souvenirs tell of the past glories of Hancock s: auto 
 graphs of Washington and of Jefferson, old hats, rusty swords, 
 which formerly belonged to different famous citizens of the 
 Union quite a museum of bric-a-brac is found in that bar. 
 Hancock s is a sort of National monument for some Americans, 
 while for others it is only a disreputable place. 
 
 This profound division is shown by other facts of greater 
 practical moment. The degrading sight of drunkenness ; the 
 legitimate desire to save one fellow-being from its shameful 
 
320 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 effects, have raised a generous reaction against it in some souls, 
 and given rise to a crowd of temperance societies. Addresses, 
 tracts, meetings, congresses, all the ordinary apparatus of 
 charitable institutions, had been employed by them without 
 great success, when they decided to try compulsion and initiated 
 the prohibition movement. 
 
 Prohibition is an absolute interdiction of the public sale of 
 any kind of fermented liquor, harmless light beers, as well as 
 the terrible whisky. It is actually enforced in five States of 
 the Union Maine, Kansas, Iowa and the two Dakotas. Tem 
 perance societies advocate it in every local Legislature, but as 
 yet they have won over the Governments of only five States. 
 
 Of course, everybody who is not a Prohibitionist grumbles 
 loudly: "What is the use of boasting of American liberty when 
 we are deprived of wine like ordinary Mussulmen ?" It is easy 
 to imagine innumerable variations of this theme. The few 
 Frenchmen subjected to this law are among the bitterest op 
 ponents to prohibition, and drink confusion to the Government 
 in good wine every time they meet. The Irish get drunk in 
 their houses on bad whisky, bought from some retailer of 
 smuggled liquor. Only the quiet traveller, who stays in a hotel 
 and would be glad to comfort himself at dinner-time with a 
 half-bottle of honest California wine, is forced to drink water. 
 
 Prohibition, like other coercive laws, does not cure the abuse 
 it is intended to combat. A drunkard cannot be kept from 
 drinking any more than a gourmand from eating; but in cer 
 tain conditions it is possible to teach people how to drink and 
 eat without becoming drunk or victims to indigestion. The 
 proof is that the great majority of French manage this. 
 
 Unfortunately, temperance societies composed of water- 
 drinkers know nothing about this art. If their members could 
 only realize what exasperation they create in a large number 
 of perfectly sober individuals, perhaps they would renounce 
 their prohibition campaign and direct their efforts in another 
 direction. As for me, I can see scarcely any sensible way of 
 reducing the ravages of drunkenness and the craving for whisky 
 except by planting vines. It is not a difficult cure to try, for 
 grapes ripen almost everywhere in the States. If the use of 
 wine were to spread among the people, they would soon be- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 321 
 
 come accustomed to drink reasonably. It is not prohibition 
 laws that America needs, but vine-growers. 
 
 Temperance societies, the outcome of a praiseworthy under 
 taking, would find in this new movement a sphere of activity 
 worthy of their zeal, and more in accordance with the Amer 
 ican spirit than the measures of compulsion they have adopted. 
 They would escape the charge of hypocrisy which they barely 
 escape ; for if only one of their members be surprised in a 
 tipsy condition by an anti-prohibitionist and it sometimes 
 does happen it destroys all effective impression of their ser 
 mons and compromises their prestige in an irreparable man 
 ner. They would be pardoned such weakness if they did not 
 impose such a ridiculous tyranny on people more sober than 
 they are. 
 
 in. DRESS. 
 
 I believe it is impossible to find in any part of the Globe a 
 country of such a size as the United States where the unifor 
 mity in dress, as well as its commonplaceness, are comparable 
 to what exist there. Everybody from New York to San 
 Francisco, from Chicago to New Orleans, has the look of hav 
 ing bought their dresses in La Belle-Jardiniere or the Bon 
 Marche. Except, if you like, the cowboyswith their immense 
 hats and leather breeches, in order to get at the absolute truth ; 
 and all the rest of the folks you meet are clad in the same 
 way. 
 
 Of course some are genteel and many are shabby ; some 
 show signs of elegance, and many are content if they are 
 covered ; but no social distinction is shown by the kind of 
 clothes that are worn. 
 
 Clearly picturesque costumes, to which the whole population 
 remains attached because of old local traditions, cannot exist 
 in the United States, as among the peasants of Brittany or the 
 Pyrenean guides. A Dakota settler has not the same reasons 
 for dressing in any particular way. The matter seems simple, 
 but it is not altogether explained by saying America is a new 
 country without a past, without a history. It really is not 
 any newer at Boston than at Rio de Janeiro or at La Plata; 
 
322 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 and yet in Brazil, in the Argentine Republic and in Mexico 
 the costumes are very varied and of startling hues. A rich 
 haciendado would never consent to jump on a street-car in a 
 suit of dark color. He never leaves home except on a superb 
 horse, magnificently harnessed, and followed by his major- 
 domo; his saddle, his spurs, his cloak, his hat proclaim his 
 riches and his rank. So there is something beyond the mere 
 newness of America needed to explain the slight attention 
 paid to dress by the Yankee. 
 
 The first reason is the general absence of formality in the 
 United States. Nobody has either time or taste to consider 
 the details of dress in a society where everybody is trying to 
 make an independent place for himself. They cannot be 
 bothered with such trifles and think little of them, because 
 they think very highly of other things. A young Spaniard 
 preoccupies himself a great deal about the impression he will 
 make by his appearance, and thinks very little about how to 
 earn the money himself that must pay the tailor. If his father 
 is good enough to satisfy his creditors it will be all the easier 
 to order magnificent robes, and his friends will hold him in 
 still higher esteem. The young Yankee finds his glory else 
 where, and finds more sympathy if he wears the flannel-shirt his 
 work demands than an elegantly-cut coat paid by his parents. 
 With such ideas, distinctions based on costume disappears, 
 and the plumed one loses his prestige. 
 
 Another manifestation of uniformity has been noted already 
 that nobody s profession can be told from dress or look. 
 This is true for servants as well as for judges, merchants, 
 farmers, teachers, etc. 
 
 That being settled and explained, I am now ready to confess 
 that nothing could be more deplorable from an artistic point 
 of view. Nothing can be uglier than a crowd of Americans in 
 a Western village, from which an artist would fly after a single 
 glance, and in which an ordinary mortal can find nothing to 
 charm the eye. I once saw two farmers wives in the market 
 at Kansas City who wore hats with many-colored feathers of 
 the most eccentric style ; their ruddy faces and dirty, ungloved 
 hands were a great contrast to their wonderful head-dress, 
 while their petticoats, well supplied with embroidery, hung 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 323 
 
 below their skirts, trailing in the dust. They would have been 
 taken for barmaids had it not been for their honest looks and 
 coarse country complexions. Ladies in Eastern cities dress 
 themselves more skilfully and carry their clothes more grace 
 fully, yet there is a certain want of taste in the way they dress. 
 Even in the cars, one sometimes comes across ladies so gor 
 geously arrayed that they would attract attention in Paris on 
 the day of the Grand Prix, while in the evening you will see 
 people sitting in the best places of a theatre, clad in sombre 
 gown, such as a Parisian wears when going to early morning 
 mass in her parish church. The gentlemen are always dressed 
 in black, as is the English custom, and it needs no explanation. 
 It is understood that a man is in full dress when he has put on 
 this funeral suit, just as it is with us ; so it is easy to be proper 
 in this respect. But for the ladies the question is much more 
 complex, and American women I speak of the natives and 
 not those we see in Paris do not know how to disentangle 
 themselves from this confusion. 
 
 They are dependent on French fashions. All the dress 
 makers and milliners on Fifth avenue proclaim themselves of 
 our nation, as the best recommendation they can give to their 
 customers. They never return from or go to Paris without 
 announcing, " Just arrived from Paris," " Before sailing to 
 Paris," in their advertisements or on their shop fronts. It is 
 comforting to their customers to know that they often visit 
 Paris to find out what is going on and to keep their hand in. 
 
 But there is neither picturesqueness of dress nor art in wear 
 ing our European gowns. When a man wishes to impress you 
 that he is elegant, he puts diamond studs in his shirt-front in 
 the full blaze of day, like a dentist or a rastaquouere. 
 
 Ought we to congratulate ourselves beyond measure on an 
 incontestible superiority over the Yankee from this point of 
 view? I do not think so. One evening in the Casino of New 
 York I saw the various scenes of a comedy called " Braziliana" 
 succeed each other, with an elegance and variety of costume 
 rejoicing the eye wearied by American uniformity. Warm- 
 toned velvets, glowed and embroidery flashed in the glare 
 of the footlights, and I asked myself if people who dress gor 
 geously and have splendid festivals were only of use in afford- 
 
324 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 ing an evening s amusement to those who put their trust in 
 laborious activity after their day s toil was over. Certainly we 
 French work harder than Brazilians, yet we appear to the 
 American much as Brazilians do to us. 
 
 AMERICAN AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 " America is not amusing, is it?" Such is the ordinary 
 Parisian s idea of American life, and he is right in one sense, 
 for he is terribly bored when he gets to the United States. 
 Yet that is not the same thing as saying the Yankee also is. 
 If he arranges his life in a certain way, surely it is because that 
 way suits him, and pleasure is not absent, only it takes a diffe 
 rent form and trend from those it has in France. 
 
 Just go some fine Saturday afternoon to any of the parks in 
 a great city, and you will see crowds of people who are 
 amusing themselves to their hearts content. Every kind of 
 equipage, elegant and plain, nearly all very swift, and often 
 driven by girls, fly along the winding roads, while people of 
 every age and sex gallop about on horseback alone or in small 
 groups. Streams of bicycles and tricycles pass and repass. 
 You will soon reach the lake, ploughed by light sailing boats, in 
 which are many happy boys and girls ; and lastly, the immense 
 stretch of green lawn is hidden here and there where the 
 bright spots of costumes tell of lawn-tennis and baseball 
 players. 
 
 Baseball, the chief National American game, has some simi 
 larities with English cricket, and, like it demands plenty mus 
 cular force as well as skill. Boys begin to play it when six or 
 seven years old, bending back to throw the ball with the 
 greatest vigor, and bending forward to receive it ; or at other 
 times holding a bat in both hands so as to hit the ball into 
 their opponents field. A boy must be twelve at least before 
 he is able to play in a serious match or become a member of a 
 baseball team. 
 
 At Harvard, Yale and other colleges the greatest importance 
 is attached to having a first-rate baseball team, which is one of 
 the features of an educational institution that will most effec 
 tively recommend it to parents. There are many matches 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 325 
 
 every year, for which the opponents have undergone a long 
 course of training, and in which young America shows its skill 
 in this kind of sport, while the whole Nation testifies to the 
 enormous interest it takes in the game. The newspapers 
 describe the nature of the teams, and telegrams are published 
 giving the latest intelligence about the matches, which are 
 ended by triumphal processions. 
 
 Americans, especially Westerners, are interested in still 
 more athletic sports, the favorite being boxing. There is an 
 association of young men in Denver who meet every now and 
 then to devote themselves to real prize-fighting. The police 
 have tried to put a stop to these dangerous encounters, but it 
 is easy to give the authorities the slip. On a given day, which 
 is kept secret, each man leaves the town in his own way on 
 horseback, driving, on the cars and then all assemble on 
 some private property turned into the lists. Stripped to the 
 waist and without boxing-gloves, the opponents, who have 
 been chosen as equal as possible, distribute their blows with 
 much warmth and liberality. Judges count the number of 
 points made by each fighter, which, after a certain time, or 
 when a given number of points has been made, decide who is 
 victor. It is not sufficient simply to touch an adversary to 
 gain a mark, but he must have received some definite serious 
 injury. Thus, the first to draw blood scores a point. A boxer 
 usually tries to reach the nose or the corner of the mouth to do 
 this. Another point is given if the opponent is knocked over 
 and lies fifteen or thirty seconds on the ground, according to 
 the rules adopted. This is usually brought about by the follow 
 ing adroit manoeuvre : A blow of the fist, let out straight at 
 the heart, stops respiration ; another following it immediately 
 while the opponent is still breathless, and hitting one of the 
 veins on the side of the neck, turns the man over. This is the 
 swinging blow. 
 
 Such pleasures seem very savage to us, but they are part of 
 the general tone of the coarse, rough and powerful West. The 
 fellows who indulge in it can settle on a ranch or a farm much 
 more readily than any of our young people, as there is occupa 
 tion for their muscular force and the skill they have acquired 
 in using it. It is useful to them in making a place for them- 
 
326 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 selves to have a great physical development, just as we French 
 must pass examinations before becoming officials. Hence 
 their athletic training and our classical instruction. Then those 
 who excell in any exercise end by liking it, and so young people 
 form themselves into boxing societies, just as we have associa 
 tions for discussing tests in our law-schools and debating socie 
 ties in our literature departments. 
 
 The taste for pugilism is general throughout the nation. 
 Physical powers are admired and valued even by those who 
 pass their days within the four walls of an office. One even 
 ing, when I was sauntering along Michigan avenue, Chicago, I 
 saw a crowd near the Exposition Building. I drew near and 
 learned that two famous prize-fighters were giving an exhibi 
 tion, that a reserved place cost $2, and that it was a great at 
 traction. I paid the $2 and took a place beside other gentle 
 men, who, like me, had come in late and were obliged to re 
 main standing. None of them complained about this curious 
 reserved place, for the pleasure of seeing Jackson, one of the 
 princes of boxing, made them forget everything else. The 
 fighters stepped on to the central platform in pairs, where the 
 impresario presented them to the public and regulated the 
 fight. 
 
 The audience loudly expressed its approbation of each 
 telling strokes and every skillful parry, and cried out at every 
 fault. I felt that the 2,500 people packed in that place took 
 the greatest interest in the spectacle. They howled, yelled 
 and whistled shrilly ; but he who would have an idea of the 
 extraordinarily great excitement that took possession of every 
 body, must visit a Spanish bull-fight. The boxers who wore 
 simple bathing-drawers and had on huge boxing-gloves, 
 seemed convinced of their importance, and after each round 
 they took a mouthful of water, gargled it an instant, then 
 threw back their heads with a gymnastic gesture, and gra 
 ciously spat on the floor. Boxing stars are treated with the 
 greatest care, and every little act is stamped with a ridiculous 
 majesty. The two who were what we call in Paris le clou de 
 la soirde (the nail of the evening) the two leading stars 
 came on, attended by two body-guards, evidently impressed 
 with the gravity of their office, who carried buckets of water 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 327 
 
 with vinegar in it, huge sponges and piles of towels. When 
 the fight stopped for a moment the boxing gentlemen were 
 sponged and rubbed down like race-horses, and even fanned 
 by the towels being waved, after which they faced each other 
 once more. The negro champion had on white drawers and 
 the white champion black ones, so that the incidents of the 
 fight might be seen better ; their sweating skin shone in the 
 electric-light, whose brilliant reflexions showed off the superb 
 muscles, while the whole hall stamped its applause. I felt 
 terribly cold in the midst of this tumult The skill of the 
 boxers seemed very great, but it was too brutal a sight for a 
 Frenchman of the nineteenth century, so I went home pro 
 mising myself never to go to see Jackson another time, while 
 the folks around me evidently were anxious to renew their 
 pleasure the very next opportunity. 
 
 People with such strong tastes for physical exercise are sure 
 to have horse-races. One or two well-arranged race-courses 
 are always to be found near every important town, and blood- 
 horses of European origin often gallop on them. 
 
 But the real National races are trotting ones, especially buggy 
 races. I have seen a pair of horses running on a course and 
 make a record of 2 minutes 22 seconds per mile. How per 
 fect everything must have been for a team to go at such a rate 
 round the turns of the track without capsizing the light buggy 
 it drew ! The trot that made a record of 2:22, of course, is quite 
 disunited, and is a sort of very rapid amble. The United 
 States produces a special race of ambling horses, pacers, and 
 the racers are the pick of these. The racer is carefully pre 
 served and selected by some special breeders, who often make 
 great profits. During my stay in St. Paul, Mr. Meriam, 
 Governor of Minnesota, paid the enormous sum of $15,000 for 
 a one-year-old colt. This detail will give some idea of the 
 strength of the American s passion for trotting races. 
 
 Outside the people who race or help race-meetings, many 
 others take pleasure in horses. There are an infinity of clubs 
 for training, keeping and breeding prize-horses. Such societies 
 have much less of that fashionable character of their European 
 analogues which make the man of the world belong to them 
 there ; but they yield better results, because they are wholly 
 
328 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 composed of people interested in their object ; who become 
 members because they love the horse, and not because they 
 belong to a certain class or occupy a certain position. Some 
 times this sympathy is not accompanied by a perfect training 
 in horsemanship. I have seen young clubmen shamelessly 
 trying to boldly ride a badly broken-in horse. Horse and rider 
 seem equally to lack experience in the art, and the shades of 
 the Count d Aure or of Mr. Baucher would have groaned at 
 this sight. A hundred such young fellows can form a club, 
 make a race-course, found race-prizes, or improve a breed. 
 Riding is learned by practice, and there is nothing ridiculous 
 in a man mounting a horse because he has a liking for it ; the 
 art will be mastered in time, as skill grows, and it is useless to 
 wait on its coming before beginning. 
 
 I believe Americans enjoy these pleasures more than we do, 
 because of their simplicity. Young girls and ladies ride with 
 out a habit, drive their carriage without being accompanied by 
 any servant, and go out whenever they please. In this, as in 
 other things, they retain their independence and set aside a 
 number of formal conventions The spanning of a team is 
 not an affair all regulated before hand, as in Paris, for a woman 
 does not want a coachman and a footman, and because the 
 horses are harnessed simply. They may be less elegant, but 
 they have much more liberty in everything. 
 
 There is the same simplicity about social relations, at least 
 in the West. New York balls are rather exhibitions of 
 flowers, diamonds and dresses a show rather than a pleasure ; 
 but, as I have several times remarked, New York is not 
 America, anymore than Nice is France, for there is too much 
 imitation of Europe there. If you wish to know how real 
 Americans amuse themselves you must go where such people 
 are to be found. It is less gorgeous, but truer. 
 
 I was at a ball in Fremont, a little town in Nebraska. It 
 was held in a large hall hired by some young people, who had 
 got up the ball and made each person invited pay a dollar. 
 A so-so orchestra, conducted by a dancing-master, who showed 
 how the figures should be done, like some village fiddler, 
 played almost without interruption ; and indefatigable couples 
 whirled round, keeping time to its airs all out of tune. It 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 329 
 
 needed a very strong love for dancing to sustain such an 
 exercise ; but the people there seemed to have no idea that 
 folks ever come to balls except to dance ; and so they did 
 dance correctly and conscientiously, as if they had some duty 
 to do. The appearance of the ball-room was varied. Many 
 ladies wore light dresses, some of which fitted closely to the 
 neck, others were low-cut ; while a few appeared in ordinary 
 walking costume. Two or three men were in evening dress, 
 others in frock-coats, short coats or jackets. The dancers danced 
 in whatever costume they owned, instead of coming to yawn 
 in a correct ball-room suit. 
 
 The impressions of a European are naturally affected by such 
 details, which do not shock the citizens of Nebraska. The 
 company did not seem to me to be at all select, but they did 
 not trouble themselves about that. I believe I recognized the 
 young girl who stammered the list of meats in my ear every 
 morning among the dancers ; and probably she was waltzing 
 with one of her ordinary customers. It must be confessed that 
 this absence of selectness, shown by a thousand details, did 
 not result in any bad manners. Some youths chewed while 
 their arms were about the girls waists, but they never allowed 
 themselves the slightest doubtful joke. They were common, 
 but honest. I was told that the balls were usually held every 
 fortnight during the Winter. What else would you have? 
 People are not housed so as to be able to give large entertain 
 ments, and have no intentions of being deprived of dancing 
 until they are ready. And, after all, what does the opinion of 
 the Old World matter? 
 
 Surprise-parties are a form of pleasure dear to the inhabitants 
 of small Western towns. A whole crowd comes to the house 
 of some friend one fine evening without any warning, rifles 
 the cupboards to get a supper of some sort, and dances, plays, 
 and, above all, amuses itself. Such impromptu affairs could 
 not be carried out were there not a strong love of fun and a 
 great simplicity of manners. Just think what insupportable 
 confusion these invasions would cause in a well-furnished and 
 well-kept house ! Broken glass, dented silver, disorder from 
 garret to cellar, enough to irritate all the nerves of the calmest 
 housekeeper ! 
 
330 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Hospitality is common where such customs reign. I never 
 visited a farm near the middle of the day without receiving a 
 cordial invitation to dinner. In young Western towns it is 
 quite the thing to have neighboring wives and daughters come 
 in and help to do the cooking, or to set the table when there 
 is to be a party in the evening ; and even if they wait at table, 
 one must not be astonished nor imagine that they are not 
 ladies. It is very rustic, but it is not much more lively than a 
 $80 a head dinner at Delmonico s. However, surprise suppers 
 at home and swell dinners at fashionable restaurants arise from 
 similar causes the scarcity of servants and the difficulty of 
 getting up a formal feast at home. Westerners are content to 
 have the feast and sacrifice the formality ; Easterners sacrifice 
 the home. 
 
 Both in East and West, American recreations have a general 
 air of honesty and decency rather foreign to our European 
 customs. Pleasure is not synonymous with gallantry in the 
 United States; and honest people try to enjoy themselves 
 honestly when they have any time for enjoyment. The cater 
 ers of amusements respect this feeling, because it is that of 
 the majority of their customers, and they keep a strict super- 
 vision of all that goes on in their places of entertainment, 
 which the general behavior renders a very easy task. It is 
 common to see notices like this one, copied one day when 
 taking a walk in Denver : 
 
 NOTICE. 
 
 This Lake and Park 
 
 is private property. 
 It is our intention to make it 
 
 A Family Resort. 
 The management reserves the right to forbid all improper 
 
 or obnoxious characters. 
 No liquor sold on the grounds. 
 
 Even in New York, Philadelphia and Chicago, cities with 
 over a million inhabitants, theatres, circuses and pleasure re 
 sorts of all kinds open in the evening; into them respectable 
 men can enter, and they do not show that objectionable promis 
 cuity which they have in France. In the Eden Museum, New 
 York, I saw a lady enter with her child and nurse ; the gentle- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 331 
 
 men quietly read the papers during the intervals, and not a 
 single doubtful dame walked in the galleries above. People 
 had come there to rest themselves, while they listened to good 
 music that was neither very difficult to understand nor very 
 passionate a soft prelude to sleep, not a thing of ex 
 citement. I know young Frenchmen, used to Parisian eve 
 nings, who declare that New York is awfully flat, and 
 revenge themselves by charging the people with being hypo 
 crites. The details they give prove that vice has its nu 
 merous and showy temples in that staid city, but it needs no 
 philosopher to discover that this great, rich, and cosmopolitan 
 conglomeration is not an immaculate sanctuary of virtue. 
 Good Heavens ! I do not doubt it for an instant. But it is 
 wonderful that the native population should have imposed its 
 habits of external respectability, such as perfect decency on the 
 pavements, on such a mixed multitude. Every hypocrisy, of 
 which they told me the trick, proved only the strength of 
 public opinion on this subject. It is a great gain when de 
 bauchery is a vice, and a secret vice, instead of the fashionable 
 world, and that of gallantry, marching hand in hand as 
 with us. 
 
 There are other differences which probably cause those 
 already mentioned. Coarse debauchery needs no long in 
 trigue ; superfine gallantry, worldly and dainty, demands a 
 whole life-time ; so how could it find any place in the existence 
 of one overworked Yankee ? The first may go on unnoticed 
 and with less risk, because of the ruin of reputation and credit 
 in the practice a very serious matter in a country where per 
 sonal worth is the main factor in advance to fortune, and the 
 first thing asked about before any man finds employment. 
 The second is the talk of the town in many cases long before 
 there is anything in it. The laws against seduction so strongly 
 protect any woman reputed honest that this danger is 
 escaped by the lady-killer lost in America ; and there is left 
 only the prostitute living on her vice. Thus, American 
 hypocrisy is not a simple matter of taste and character, but the 
 outcome of a set of circumstances involved in every-day 
 American life. If we are tempted to harshly condemn it, let 
 us at least remember what Joubert has said, with so much good 
 
332 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 sense : " It is a homage paid to virtue." This does not excuse 
 hypocrites, but it commends the environment where they are 
 obliged to practice hypocrisy. 
 
 My readers would have a very incomplete idea of American 
 recreations if I did not say a word about the commonest, the 
 most popular, the one that may be enjoyed amidst the most 
 absorbing business chewing. 
 
 One is not a couple of hours in New York before being 
 struck by the astonishing number of spittoons, of all kinds and 
 sizes, placed everywhere. Immense dishes of brown earthen 
 ware, vessels of shining copper, bowls of pottery or crystal, are 
 met at every step, in the halls of hotels, in the cars, in offices, 
 in bedrooms ; and the negro who brushes boots puts one near 
 his customer. It seems as if a spittoon were the first need of 
 man. One cannot say that there are more in the West, but the 
 reason for them becomes very evident, and the jets of black 
 ened saliva aimed at them tell of the chewing which is their 
 origin. 
 
 If the stronger sex jealously preserved the disgusting privil 
 ege of chewing tobacco, it would not be half so bad ; but the 
 fair sex also chew, with serious effect on their charms. Few 
 women chew tobacco, but most of them in the West chew a 
 gum expressly made for the purpose. Their teeth are in 
 constant motion, and an apparent swelling appears, mov 
 ing about and deforming their cheeks. No pretty girl can 
 stand such disfiguring. The fashionable women of New York 
 and even Chicago soon gave up a practice so fatal to their em 
 pire ; but their sisters in the Far West, less coquettish, or else 
 ruling over less fastidious subjects, have given themselves up 
 to it without remorse. One day in a railroad restaurant, a young 
 woman came and sat down at the next table to mine, then 
 gracefully introduced her thumb and forefinger to extract a 
 quid of gum, which she carefully put down on the edge of the 
 napkin. When the meal was over, she put back her quid and 
 jumped on the cars. This is an extreme case, but it would be 
 easy to multiply disgusting details. 
 
 When Americans are asked why they chew, each gives a dif 
 ferent reason, some thinking that it wastes less time than 
 smoking, others invoking the most absurd of hygienic reasons. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 333 
 
 The only one that is at all serious is that the dryness of the old 
 prairie, that is the whole West, parches the throat and gives 
 rise to the need for artificial salivation. It is possible, and it 
 seems necessary to believe that some general cause gave rise 
 to a common custom so very objectionable. 
 
 After this sketch of the daily life of Americans, I hope my 
 readers have an idea of the curious differences in detail between 
 their practices and ours, and also the reason for their existence. 
 Now we must study some general characteristics of their 
 organization. 
 
 Up to this point we have examined different types of Amer 
 icans by themselves ; breeders, farmers, manufacturers, traders, 
 bankers, have been studied in the midst of their work and also 
 at their homes. How are such scattered elements grouped out 
 side their trades and families for the great concerns of public 
 interest? That is what we shall now study. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. THE VIRGINIAN ARISTOCRACY 
 IN EARLIER TIMES AND TO-DAY. A DEVELOPING ARIS 
 TOCRACY. 
 
 A celebrated book, about which everybody speaks and 
 which scarcely anybody reads now-a-days, has given French 
 people the idea that affairs in the United States are entirely 
 managed by the democracy. M. de Tocqueville was the less 
 excusable for forming such an opinion, as the Southern aristo- 
 tocrats still played an important part in public affairs at the 
 time he wrote. Even in New England, which he specially 
 studied, an aristocracy of labor was arising, among the elite of 
 eminent citizens whose special influence on the progress of so 
 ciety has been very marked. 
 
 The American Republic is not a whit more a union of men 
 absolutely equal among themselves to-day ; from one point of 
 view they are more unequal than anywhere else, and I have 
 given the reason for this in showing how circumstances permit 
 the full development of everybody s faculties to a greater ex 
 tent than in Europe, and these faculties are very much un 
 evenly distributed among human beings. 
 
 So there are superior and there are inferior elements in 
 American society which are constantly being separated from 
 each other in life s battle, some becoming leaders, others falling 
 into the ranks. Every branch of activity has its hierarchy. 
 Thus the position of each man is determined in the workshop 
 of labor. 
 
 Outside this workshop all ranks seem abolished, and at first 
 sight there seems to be no great differences among the various 
 citizens of the Union which somewhat confirms M. de Toe- 
 queville s idea but they do not play equal parts ; and when 
 ever one leaves off considering individual interests and studies 
 
336 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 general questions, elements of very varied worth are found in 
 the latter as well as in the former. No closed class, no 
 hereditary caste has a monopoly of public spirit ; but some 
 people devote most of their time and their money to the 
 public good, supplying a series of needs common to the whole 
 people. 
 
 Such individuals, no matter what be their origin, are really 
 aristocrats in the widest, highest and truest sense. They give 
 their services gratuitously, and use all their faculties, which 
 have helped them to succeed in their private affairs, to the 
 public service. The oldest European nobility is based on 
 service rendered, and wherever a man devotes himself to in 
 crease the wellbeing of his fellow-citizens, public opinion all 
 over the world ranks him in a special class. He is differen 
 tiated from the great mass of human beings by this simple 
 fact, for they are all busy trying to solve the problem proposed 
 to every one of how to get their daily bread. 
 
 A nation owes much to such true aristocrats. They not 
 only help its less endowed members to accomplish their task, 
 but they also direct certain higher interests requiring the exer 
 cise of great ability, which without this guidance would be in 
 the greatest danger. The American people has been fortunate 
 enough to produce men of such a stamp ; it is indebted to 
 them for its National independence, and they prepare it to-day 
 for its future. A glance at the past will show us the part they 
 played in its formation ; and some contemporary notes will 
 tell the actual role they fill in its development. 
 
 I. THE VIRGINIAN ARISTOCRACY IN EARLIER TIMES AND TO-DAY. 
 
 At the close of the last century, after the United States had 
 ruptured their connection with the mother-country, they found 
 their earliest statesmen among the Virginian aristocracy. 
 Washington, to speak only of the most famous, embodied, in a 
 remarkable way, the qualities of that race. He learned to 
 govern a large body of men and to look after considerable un 
 dertakings on his paternal estate at Mount Vernon. He had 
 the same right to be called an employer of labor as the owners 
 of immense ranches or large farms who are to be found in the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 337 
 
 West today, or as the great manufacturers of the East whom 
 we have studied at work. At that time the West was still 
 occupied by the Indians, industry could scarcely be said to 
 exist in the East, and farming, which was the life of New Eng- 
 landers, was of very modest extent. There were small family 
 homesteads on which a future energetic race was growing up, 
 but nobody could acquire the habit of commanding or gain 
 experience in directing complex affairs. There were some 
 large farms in New York State and Pennsylvania, but not 
 many. The true nursery of the large employers of labor was 
 in the South. 
 
 There the planters lived on their large estates, and person 
 ally superintended their cultivation, as is easily verified by 
 visiting Mount Vernon,full of souvenirs of Washington, which 
 the grateful Americans have preserved with pious care. The 
 dwelling-house is simple and built entirely of wood, while 
 many out-buildings surround it. It is a real country residence 
 in the midst of the fields ; the home of a master, although not 
 exactly a castle. It occupies a wonderful situation. One side 
 overlooks the superb sheet of water of the Potomac from the 
 height of a steep hill covered with tall trees ; the other forms 
 the boundary of a court, beyond which stretches a vast culti 
 vated plain. 
 
 These planters did not limit their activity to looking after 
 their own interests ; they managed public affairs also, and really 
 governed the colonies with whom the mother-country very 
 seldom interfered. 
 
 After they rose up against an oppressive custom-house 
 regulation and broke the bonds that held them to the mother- 
 country, the same men continued to govern as before ; only 
 they had to forge a new link to replace the one that had 
 been broken, which resulted in their forming the Federal Con 
 stitution. There were many difficulties in the way. They had 
 to resist English armies, to compel European powers to recognize 
 the existence of the United States and enter into diplomatic 
 relations with them. In home affairs, they had to unite 
 independent States in common action without encroaching 
 on their independence, without making them feel any centra 
 lization yoke, without profiting by any temporary dictatorship 
 
338 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 which some grave crisis put into the hands of the chiefs. 
 These men were great enough for all these duties, and it is 
 impossible to admire sufficiently the magnificent part played 
 by Southern aristocrats, the disinterestedness, wisdom and 
 calm serenity of Washington, the loftiness of his views, the 
 justness of his conceptions, the combination of qualities that 
 made him a statesman of the highest order. 
 
 For a long time after the Declaration of Independence the 
 Virginian aristocracy supplied the majority of Presidents to the 
 Union, and was a veritable nursery of governors of men, be 
 cause the management of large plantations was constantly 
 training the important proprietors in the oversight of large 
 interests. Although they had no political privileges guaran 
 teeing them the supreme offices, they usually filled them be 
 cause they were the fittest men for them. The large agri 
 culturists helped the American colonies to endure their 
 separation from the mother-country, and their efforts formed 
 the United States and helped them to prosper. 
 
 Such historical souvenirs tempt one to search for the natural 
 heads of the Nation among the descendants of this aristocracy ; 
 but they will not be found there. The sceptre has passed into 
 other hands. 
 
 Politically they lost their position through causes we shall 
 afterwards consider, when we study public life in the United 
 States. Socially they are also well-nigh effaced. There has been 
 a great revolution in American labor. The great agricultural 
 interests of the West and the great manufacturing interests of 
 the East are governed to-day by eminent men in West and 
 East, while the cultivation of plantations has greatly declined. 
 The South produces masters of men no more ; all come from 
 East or West. The causes which created Southern influence 
 have disappeared, or, rather, seem to have turned against it. 
 Not only has ancient Southern chivalry been replaced by a 
 new aristocracy of labor, but its present representatives seem 
 to be sinking more and more into mediocrity. 
 
 Many still live on their divided or diminished plantations 
 without making any effort to take the place for which their 
 education fitted them. They are generally respected, because 
 they cling to the refined and generous traditions of their 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 339 
 
 ancestors ; but they owe this much more to these souvenirs 
 than to their actual position. They are a vanishing race. Some 
 who are too poor to bring up their children in the old way, 
 and too proud or too indolent to set them to work in some 
 business, keep them at home vegetating on a very moderate 
 income. In one or two generations these descendants of great 
 planters will be fatally absorbed in the laboring classes, for 
 no artificial conditions preserve them in a country where pre 
 rogatives or privileges have nothing to do with birth, and 
 where a crowd of capable men are constantly rising from the 
 common people. 
 
 How has this decline been so rapid ? The Civil War and its 
 disastrous effects on the South have had something to do with it. 
 The freeing of slaves without any compensation to their owners 
 broke up most plantations, and was a cruel blow to the landed 
 aristocracy. But although these causes suffice to explain the 
 crises, they do not justify the incapacity to recover from it. A 
 Catholic Archbishop of Virginia, who sympathizes with the 
 descendants of the old planters, said to me : " There are some 
 who try to get on ; but New England Yankees would try ten 
 times harder to gain their aim. The Southerners are men able 
 to command, but not able to help themselves alone." 
 
 This judgment, certainly free from all ill-will to the Virginian 
 aristocracy, clearly shows the double character of its best re 
 presentatives. They were made to command in this sense, 
 that they were formerly in the habit of exercising power 
 around them, and that they still retain certain qualities and 
 a certain prestige without knowing how to obtain posts of 
 command. Their capabilities and prestige find no employ 
 ment unless some situation is offered them by circumstances. 
 
 Their great misfortune is that the slave system habituated 
 them to positions where they had nothing to do but to com 
 mand. The planter inherited an estate already in working 
 order, with slaves on it whom he could command and who 
 could not leave him ; consequently he enjoyed the privileges of a 
 large agriculturalist even when he ceased to do any of the duties. 
 The negroes, with the utmost consideration, were condemned 
 to perpetual slavery ; and if any were freed, their social position 
 was hardly altered, for they remained inferior in reality if not 
 
340 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 in theory. Nothing was done to improve them. The planters, 
 usually of gentle disposition, whose managers were not brutal, 
 treated them well, but treated them as slaves. A great gulf 
 was fixed between the two classes; for the one commanded 
 and the other obeyed ; nor was it possible for any of the one 
 class to pass over into the other. 
 
 What was inevitable in such circumstances came to pass. 
 The superior class became less and less capable of command 
 ing, and the inferior class less and less reconciled to its bonds. 
 It is a very difficult thing for an aristocracy to keep always on 
 the same level for a series of generations. If some isolated 
 families are successful, the majority see their offspring grow 
 feebler as they are further removed from the parent source, 
 and finally disappear. That is the history of many a famous 
 house. For an aristocracy to play a part in the government 
 of a nation it must constantly renew itself by infusions of new 
 blood, and assimilate the best elements of the nation. In such 
 conditions it remains a body of eminent men, resulting from a 
 constant selection. In slave-owning conditions the aristocracy 
 inevitably becomes a closed body, a caste ; hence its downfall. 
 
 When the Civil War broke out the cultivation of the great 
 plantations was in a deplorable condition. Successive crops of 
 tobacco had exhausted the richest of soils, and the planters 
 were more given to spending money in feastings and cock- 
 fightings than to buying fertilizers to bring back the primitive 
 fertility of their land. The general custom was to take no in 
 terest in the working of the estates which encouraged the 
 rapacity of their managers, led to idleness of the negroes and 
 introduced the most detestable methods of cultivation. In 
 short, a crisis of some sort was inevitable. The money lost in 
 the war precipitated it ; the abolition of slaves without com 
 pensation made it harder to bear; but there were deeper 
 reasons of quite another kind. The proof is that the crisis still 
 exists to-day. 
 
 II. THE BEGINNINGS OF AN ARISTOCRACY. 
 
 Besides these ancient but declining families of the South, a 
 class of great employers of labor is being formed almost all over 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 341 
 
 the United States, whose devotion to public good and efficient 
 action on society are such as to make them the members of a 
 new aristocracy. Of course, if we mean by an aristocracy that 
 collection of families hereditarily supplied with large estates 
 and hereditarily occupying high office, such a thing cannot be 
 found in the Union. But if we understand aristocracy to mean 
 the groups of people who play a noble and disinterested part, 
 consecrating a large share of the advantages they have been 
 able to gain to public works a selection of eminent and de 
 voted men that exists to a remarkable extent in the land of the 
 Yankee. 
 
 The distinctive characteristic of this American aristocracy is 
 its anxiety to raise to its own level the social elements capable 
 of rising. Every man who has reached the top of the ladder 
 and generously holds out a helping hand to those who are 
 struggling to climb to the summit, is a member of this aristo 
 cracy ; and such men are not rare in the States. In the course 
 of this work we have often seen that the American laborer is 
 always anxious to get on, and that many masters are constantly 
 planning how to help them in their endeavors. Pullman, 
 Pillsbury and many others are remarkable examples. The 
 secret jealousy of all successful people which is noticeable in 
 some classes of Europeans otherwise perfectly honorable, is 
 never found in America, for the causes which produce it in the 
 Old World do not exist in the New. 
 
 A man of high social standing in France easily becomes 
 convinced that his neighbor is doing him an injury by suc 
 ceeding, but that is because our country is, in a way, a theatre 
 of fixed size, where all the best places have been taken for a 
 long time ; their number cannot be increased indefinitely, and, 
 therefore, must be competed for ; while those who hold them 
 already do not gladly see a growing number of competitors 
 menace their tranquil possession. On the other hand, America 
 is a vast amphitheatre, where there is no lack of seats, but which 
 has not yet been put in order. Only a few people have 
 as yet built themselves magnificient boxes here and there ; 
 and when a new box is added to those already formed, there 
 it forms a new beauty in the place, without giving anybody a 
 dread of dispossession. So these people are sincerely desirous 
 
342 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 to cordially welcome, and even to help, anybody wishing to 
 build a box. 
 
 Further, there is no opposition between the working classes 
 and those who own and enjoy the world s goods. Except in 
 the South, hardly anybody leads a leisured life. There are few 
 or none of those people inheriting moderate means who are 
 always ready to practise petty vengeance against energetic men 
 who rise from nothing and at last surpass them. So among 
 the rich there is a general disposition of kindliness and esteem 
 for the laborers. Many Virginian planters had the same 
 feeling for their slaves, no matter what folk say; but it was not 
 shown in the same way. The difference is quite appreciable 
 to-day. 
 
 One day I visited a very distinguished lady, who was a 
 descendant of an old Virginian family. In her presence 
 I felt myself surrounded by an atmosphere charged with an 
 aristocratic perfume such as is very rare in America. Her 
 house was large and comfortable, full of many European re 
 finements. Her servant was an Italian, and Mrs. B. always 
 spoke to him in French, so completing the illusion. For a 
 time I imagined myself in France. While this careless Italian 
 was helping his mistress into her carriage, he was awkward 
 enough to crush her finger when closing the door. Mrs. B. did 
 not utter a word of reproach, but at once got out and had the 
 wound attended to, and when the poor man, looking somewhat 
 shame-faced, came about an hour afterwards to hear how she 
 was feeling and to apologize, she said, " It is all right, and 
 really it was somewhat my own fault !" After he had gone she 
 turned to me and added, " It is so rude to make the servants 
 apologize for those things !" Such delicate feelings could not 
 exist, I believe, in the coarse breast of a Western woman. In 
 order to arrive at such purity of taste, long custom in com 
 manding and a certain refinement of heart and spirit are 
 essential, and these could not be found among ladies and 
 gentlemen who are the first of their race to be ladies and 
 gentlemen. 
 
 With these latter people benevolence is less graceful but 
 more effective. They do not study the charitable art of mak 
 ing their servants feel their dependent position as little 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 343 
 
 as possible ; but they try to raise them from that con 
 dition, A manufacturer whom I knew kept a boy of seven 
 teen, an orphan, who came from France, where he was brought 
 up by charity. He is a respectable lad, polished and quiet, but 
 without order or energy. Nothing is more curious than the 
 sermons his master gives him : " Look here, George, you must 
 not stick forever in my service ; you must try to grow a man, 
 my good fellow. Save your wages and look about you a little, 
 to see if there is nothing you can do. If you like, I shall give 
 you some hints and help you, too ; but try to get on yourself." 
 Like a well-bred Frenchman, George politely thanks his master 
 for his kind offers, and says he will think about them. Perhaps 
 he would prefer not to receive these encouragements to strive 
 for a thing he does not care about, and would prefer to remain 
 just where he is; but his master does all he can to inspire him 
 with a desire to better himself. 
 
 Besides this interest in individuals which many rich Amer 
 icans willingly take in their inferiors, there is a more general 
 one they also develop. At every turn there are proofs of their 
 munificence and devotion to the public good. I shall mention 
 a few to give some idea of their importance. 
 
 I shall pass by all purely charitable institutions, such as hos 
 pitals and asylums, a large number of which are due to the gen 
 erosity of some rich citizen, as for instance, the Johns Hopkins 
 Hospital in Baltimore and the Drexel Hospital in Philadel 
 phia. They are a very great credit to their founders, but are 
 not so characteristic of the American spirit, because their aim 
 is to assist the unfortunate alone. The American is much more 
 given to helping the capable to rise than to save the incapable 
 from dying of hunger. He is interested in the former, but he 
 does the latter as a work of duty without any attractions. 
 
 One of the most remarkable of these men who show this 
 anxiety to raise everybody around them is certainly Andrew 
 Carnegie, the great Pittsburg ironfounder. He has risen from 
 the humblest ranks of the working-classes ; his parents were 
 weavers in Dunfermline, a town in Scotland, and he began life 
 with a few cents in his pocket. To-day his fortune is estimated 
 at $40,000,000, and he makes a most liberal use of it. He lately 
 gave Pittsburg almost $400,000 to found a public library, to 
 
344 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 which every inhabitant should be admitted free. Some time 
 afterwards, wishing to complete his work, he resolved to build 
 a picture gallery and a large concert hall at the side of the 
 library. The picture gallery is endowed perpetually with an 
 income of $50,000 a year, and soon every Pittsburg workman 
 will be able. to find every facility for choice reading, popular 
 concerts and good works of art. 
 
 Such liberality is by no means rare. I visited the Newberry 
 Library in Chicago, another public library certain of a great 
 development. A citizen left all his fortune, estimated at from 
 $3,000,000 to $4,000,000 to found it. At present it has only 
 45,000 volumes and occupies temporary premises. It has been 
 decided to raise a permanent building capable of future ex 
 tensions. 
 
 An institution of this sort is not formed simply by the 
 necessary money being furnished. It must be organized, and 
 private enterprise is also capable of this difficult task in the 
 United States. I may note the intelligent way in which this 
 library is arranged at present. Some specialist is responsible 
 director of each department a physician of the medical de 
 partment, an artist of the Fine Arts, etc. Instead of bringing 
 all the readers into one large hall, as in the Bibliotheque Na- 
 tionale in Paris, they are distributed according to the nature of 
 their studies. In this way each is sure of finding help and ad 
 vice from a competent authority, and in this way each can also 
 go and take the books he needs without any loss of time. 
 Mr. Pooles, the director, thinks that the books are not injured 
 so much by giving readers this liberty than they are by our 
 plan of carrying them to a distant reading-room and back 
 again. This is a very American opinion that I am sure will 
 startle all our librarians. Many other things will startle them. 
 For instance, the library is not regularly open every evening. 
 Will they never open it, then? That depends on the wishes 
 of the people of Chicago. In the meantime, if anybody 
 whatever telephones or writes during the day that he has the 
 intention of coming to consult certain books mentioned in the 
 evening, the door is opened for him, and he finds the books 
 wanted set out on a table. That is what is known as under 
 standing the public needs. The idea is that administrations 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 345 
 
 are made to serve and not to tyrannize, which is not ex 
 actly our French idea. But why compare departments organ 
 ized by an omnipotent state with those formed by private en 
 terprise. 
 
 The Newberry Library is in the north of Chicago. A citizen 
 devoted to the interests of the southern part of the city be 
 queathed $3,000,000 to establish another in that quarter. It is 
 not organized yet, the legacy having been received only 
 eighteen months ago, but it may soon rival the older founda 
 tion. That is not at all bad for a city forty years old, which 
 was totally destroyed by fire in 1871. 
 
 Sometimes very small towns benefit by the generous inten 
 tions of their residents and possess splendid libraries. Welles- 
 ley, in Massachusetts, with about i, 600 inhabitants, has near it 
 a kind of English castle, surrounded by grand trees and wide 
 lawns, which holds its public library. A crowd of other col 
 lections of ordinary size are due to such causes. American 
 generosity is largely sympathetic with this work. 
 
 The study of books does not suffice for intellectual develop 
 ment. Oral instruction is needed for awakening intelligence 
 and directing its efforts. The Maecenas of the United States 
 have founded a large number of educational institutions, 
 colleges and universities, without counting the public evening 
 lectures established for people already in business in order to 
 let them supplement their intellectual knowledge. 
 
 The earliest of the foundations occurs far back in American 
 history. In 1638, eighteen years after the landing of the Pil 
 grim fathers, a Puritan minister, John Harvard, bequeathed 
 half of his fortune to found a college near Boston, which has 
 since become the most famous in the Union. To-day Harvard 
 University is very wealthy, and grateful pupils are making it 
 richer every day. Sometimes the money presents are so large 
 as to enable it to build a splendid Memorial Hall, sometimes 
 gifts of land help to increase its income ; so that it now rivals 
 the ancient English Universities on which it was modelled. 
 
 Other younger universities are also due to private bene 
 ficence. For instance, the Johns Hopkins University, Balti 
 more, founded by the same Hopkins who erected the hospital 
 of that name ; the Catholic University of Washington, for 
 
346 AMERICAN LIVE. 
 
 which Miss Caldwell gave over $500,000 ; and an infinity of 
 smaller colleges ; some, like Girard College, Philadelphia, in 
 tended for the free education of orphans without means ; 
 others, simply educational institutions receiving paying pupils. 
 Some of these foundations are very wealthy. Girard College 
 has an income of about $1,000,000, and cares for 1,400 orphans. 
 A Philadelphia merchant of French origin founded it in 1631. 
 
 But it would need thousands of examples to give even an 
 approximate idea of the important part which donations and 
 legacies play in the organization of universities, colleges and 
 schools of all kinds. All that can be said is that about every 
 where the origin of such establishments is due to some generous 
 intention. I visited a Jesuit college at Denver, magnificently 
 situated in the midst of a property of fifty acres. " How did 
 you manage to buy this ground so near the town ?" I asked 
 the Father who took me over it. " The proprietor presented 
 us with it," was his reply. I inspected a Methodist college for 
 girls in Baltimore. Several blocks bore the name of the build 
 ers, but I noticed a new one whose front was ready for an 
 inscription. The director confessed that they were waiting 
 until some one would be willing to earn the right of having 
 their name carved on it by paying for its construction. Add to 
 all these the enormous number of primary schools kept up by 
 private individuals, that no clergyman in the States receives 
 the least help from the Government, that churches and meet 
 ing-houses are built without its aid, and you must realize that 
 the love of public good inspires many a gift for general use in 
 the moral and intellectual development of the people. 
 
 There are other witnesses. Public museums have begun to 
 be enriched during the past few years by legacies of private 
 collections ; and in half a century, if this movement continues, 
 some of them will be of real interest to artists and educated 
 people from Europe. Already those of New York and Boston 
 own most valuable canvasses, most of which have been pre 
 sented by generous citizens. In the Metropolitan Museum of 
 New York the most notable collection is that of Miss Catherine 
 Lorillard Wolfe, consisting of 143 pictures, some of which are 
 signed by Rosa Bonheur, Horace Vernet, Meissonnier, Troyon, 
 Theodore Rousseau, Corot, Bouguereau, Detaille, Henner 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 347 
 
 Formentin, Jules Breton, etc. Miss Wolfe has also left the 
 Museum $200,000, the interest on which is to be spent in keep 
 ing up and increasing this collection. Another collection of 
 old masters, consisting of forty-three canvasses, was given by 
 Mr. H. G. Marquand. It includes four Velasquez, three 
 Rubens, three Rembrandts, three Teniers, two Van-Eycks, a 
 Vandyck, a Leonardo da Vinci, etc. Besides these large col 
 lections there are many single pictures presented to the Mu 
 seum. In looking over the catalogue one comes across all the 
 best known names in New York Cornelius Vanderbilt, 
 Stewart, Havemeyer, etc. 
 
 At Boston, also, the majority of valuable canvasses which 
 are in the Museum of Fine Arts have been supplied by rich 
 Bostonians. The towns need scarcely tax themselves at all to 
 found Museums. 
 
 Lastly, it is not at all rare to find public parks also due to 
 private munificence. I was shown a large piece of ground 
 bequeathed for that purpose in Pittsburg. I noticed a public 
 garden planted with trees, but very badly arranged, right in the 
 most fashionable part of Boston, which I was informed had 
 been left to the town on condition that nothing was to be 
 changed. The testator wished his, fellow-citizens to enjoy it 
 freely, and if grass which covered it had lost its freshness, it 
 served indiscriminately for the childrens games, the siesta of 
 the idler and the open-air preaching of well-meaning apostles. 
 The intention expressed in the will is respected so scrupu 
 lously that the municipality permits the passers-by to jostle 
 each other in the neighboring street rather than take the 
 ground needed for widening it from the garden. That would 
 change something and so violate the formal request of the 
 donor. 
 
 This is not an isolated case, but an example of the general 
 feeling in the United States. The intentions of the founders, 
 whose works I have just been describing, are most scrupulously 
 observed, as if to encourage others in future by the exact 
 manner in which the wishes of those in the past are executed. 
 
 Nothing is easier that to found a university, a library, a 
 hospital, a museum. Nothing is easier than to organize in an 
 efficient way the institution created, for all that is necessary 
 
348 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 is to name a "board of trustees" in the will, hand over the 
 administration to them, giving them powers to elect a new 
 member every time a vacancy occurs. Suppose, for instance, 
 some library is being formed, and the will appoints three or 
 four people of special competence scientists, advocates, men of 
 letters and gives them all powers to buy books, to construct 
 and look after a building, to engage the librarians, and, in 
 a general way, to take every necessary measure. Should one of 
 them die, the others appoint his successor, and thus the 
 board nominated by the founder never disappears. 
 
 There are no legal difficulties, for every respectable institu 
 tion receives recognition by means of a charter from the State 
 it: which it is formed. For instance, the Newberry Library 
 can acquire, alienate or compound like any private individual ; 
 its board of trustees has every liberty of action ; there are 
 none of those official obstacles which check the progress and 
 development of similar institutions so much in France ; but it 
 is no more tied down than a father of a family in the full en 
 joyment of his civil rights. That permits it to make common- 
 sense calculations, and to try experiments that are quite im 
 possible where the slightest decision has to be certified by 
 formalities without number. For instance, when The Johns 
 Hopkins University was founded there were two possible places 
 for erecting the buildings. Some people spoke strongly in 
 favor of Clifton Park, the old residence of John Hopkins, a 
 vast property situated in the immediate neighborhood of Bal 
 timore ; others inclined to the centre of the city. The board 
 of trustees unanimously adopted the advice of a member,who 
 wisely proposed the following temporary solution : " Let us 
 begin very modestly in the town, in an ordinary house ; ex 
 perience will show us how that will work, and we can decide 
 afterwards what is best. That will not compromise us in the 
 least, for the house we shall buy at first can easily be sold 
 again." Since then this experiment in the centre of the city 
 seems to have suceeded. The proximity of the magnificent 
 Peabody Library also a private foundation ; the custom of 
 holding sessions in the evening, and many other circum 
 stances, have weighed down this side of the balance. The 
 University has built a series of other blocks behind the original 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 349 
 
 house, not very imposing, but thoroughly suited to their 
 uses. 
 
 Boards of trustees have the great advantage of giving in 
 dependence and perpetuity to the institutions they govern ; 
 and they render the other appreciable service of giving em 
 ployment to the directive faculties of certain individuals. It 
 is no light task to administer unconditionally a fortune of 
 $4,000,000 and to make it efficiently serve the needs of a 
 university. The trustees must be thoroughly devoted to the 
 public good to accomplish this, and they must have many 
 eminent qualities in addition to a high personal standing ; in 
 fact, they must be very superior men. Were they to be en 
 tirely absorbed in their own business, any feeling of social 
 responsibility would soon become atrophied, but the boards of 
 trustees are excellent means of utilizing and developing it in 
 them. They are first-rate schools of aristocratic government, 
 for they teach their pupils to look after large interests gratui 
 tously. 
 
 Consequently, it is a very grave mistake to see nothing but 
 vague generosity in these foundations of all sorts. It is one 
 thing to put some money into a collection box, it is quite 
 another to fully organize a permanent institution ; it is one 
 thing to sign the accounts of a charity society prepared by 
 some collector and certified by a prefect, and quite another 
 thing to look after an independent organism on one s own re 
 sponsibility. A true aristocracy is asserting itself and is grow 
 ing up in the United States, because of the real services it ren 
 ders to the whole of the Nation. 
 
 We Europeans cannot recognize it at first sight, that is be 
 cause we usually have too narrow a view of what an aristocracy 
 is, and look on it more as an ornament than as a rank of 
 society ; and it is also because we are accustomed to see it 
 everywhere having a hereditary character which is wanting 
 here. 
 
 But there is another very simple reason why we should not 
 recognize it. America is still a society in the course of form 
 ation, a point on which I need not insist, as it is already ad 
 mitted. Hence there are as yet no definite situation, neither 
 in the working-classes nor in the higher classes. We have 
 
350 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 seen that nobody willingly condemns himself to follow one 
 profession all his life ; and for a still stronger reason nobody 
 has any idea of making his position hereditary ; and this will 
 endure as long as the abundance of land allows everybody to 
 settle easily, as long as new towns are being formed and con 
 sequently new industries growing up and new speculations 
 created. 
 
 But it will end the day America, fully peopled and culti 
 vated, resembles the old countries of Europe. Then certain 
 people will find themselves in advantageous circumstances im 
 possible to be created elsewhere. A large proprietor will 
 keep a stretch of land whose equivalent cannot be had in the 
 West any longer, and it will be divided up among several 
 families of farmers really settled on the soil of his domain, 
 owing to the difficulty of getting any other; and this will 
 form a condition of things to be transmitted. When this day 
 dawns he will easily leave it intact, for his children will not 
 consider that they have any special claims on it, and they will 
 do as the English do to-day, in their thickly peopled country, 
 where they preserve the custom of looking after their affairs 
 themselves, and go to make place for themselves where there 
 is room, analogous to that which one of their number re 
 ceived where there is now no room left. On that day the 
 American aristocracy, will probably have some resemblance to 
 the English aristocracy, and we shall recognize it as aris 
 tocratic. To-day it exists in a latent state, and is in course of 
 formation, like society itself ; but it is easy to discover its con 
 stituent elements, to see them born, act and develop. 
 
 From this period onward these elements will play an effective 
 part in the social organization, and round off in a useful way 
 the American democracy. They provide for the administra 
 tion of a crowd of common interests in proportion as these 
 show themselves, without the public powers being troubled to 
 look after them. This is no slight service, as will be confessed 
 by any who know the corruption of American Governments. 
 In fact, it is due to this action of theirs that the United States 
 are able to move on in the path of progress in spite of the ob- 
 jectionableness of their politicians, who spoil everything they 
 touch ; but happily they touch but little. The spontaneous 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 351 
 
 and gratuitous government of the natural aristocracy narrows 
 the sphere and limits their influence. 
 
 Other general interests also escape them, such as all those 
 the citizens voluntarily organize. Now the spirit of free asso 
 ciation is widespread in the United States and produces results 
 of surprising efficiency. We shall examine it at work in the 
 most varied conditions. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ASSOCIATIONS FOR PRIVATE AND PUBLIC BENEFIT. ASSO 
 CIATIONS FOR COMMON INTERESTS. ASSOCIATIONS FOR 
 PUBLIC WEAL. 
 
 Americans, as a rule, very seldom have recourse to corporate 
 bodies, as we have pointed out several times. In farming, in 
 dustry, commerce and banking they have a marked propensity 
 for carrying on business for themselves, and not grouping them 
 selves into a company when one individual can succeed well 
 enough. 
 
 Yet they do not object to association for all that, but employ 
 it with much success whenever they deem it necessary, and 
 with all the greater success, because they seldom resort to it 
 for their individual interests. 
 
 The need of co-operation in everything arises from a con 
 sciousness of weakness or laziness. A French proprietor who 
 would not risk a thousand francs in improving his land, en 
 trusts much larger sums to a shaky loan society, or to an 
 association of light-fingered gentlemen, because he has more 
 confidence in other people s work than in his own. Another 
 who is a member of all the societies for the material and moral 
 improvement of the lower classes, does nothing for the people 
 in his own employment or for such folks as he might person 
 ally influence. When such people co-operate, they unite their 
 incapacities, and this explains the sudden stoppage of so many 
 societies started with a great flourish of trumpets. 
 
 But, on the other hand, men who are used to doing every 
 thing they can for themselves without trusting to their neigh 
 bors, co-operate when they are all face to face with some com 
 mon difficulty to be overcome or some general interest to be 
 furthered, not because they have failed in personal entreprise. 
 They unite their capacities, they form a powerful union of 
 
354 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 efficient people, the only sort that is worth anything. Hence 
 the success of American societies. 
 
 We have already noticed a number of them, such as the 
 Farmers Alliance, the Knights of Labor and a crowd of other 
 workingmen s associations, the trusts monopolizing sugar and 
 petroleum, the temperance societies that have organized the 
 prohibition movement, the building associations whose great 
 importance we showed in the matter of workmen s dwellings. 
 Associations of all sorts may arise under a regime of complete 
 freedom, when a charter is easily obtained recognizing the 
 liberty of the society to act like a person. 
 
 I. ASSOCIATIONS FOR MUTUAL INTERESTS. 
 
 An American citizen always belongs to at least one mutual 
 aid society for the same reason that makes him take out a life 
 or an accident insurance policy, when his circumstances are 
 easy enough. In a society of workers, the most dreaded disas 
 ter is to be unfit for work. So the number of these societies is 
 prodigious, and their results considerable. The subscriptions 
 paid by members are very high, but the aid given is effective. 
 One such association, founded ten years ago and numbering 
 3,000 members to-day, possesses a reserve fund of 160,000 
 after having paid $1,000 to the heirs of every member who had 
 died, and having built an asylum where the orphans are 
 brought up and educated gratuitously. A photographer, who 
 is a member of the Odd Fellows Society, told me that this 
 association gives $4 to $5 a day to any of its members who are 
 ill. Similarly with the Knights of Father Mathew, a Catholic 
 society founded by a very popular priest ; the Knights of the 
 Legion of Honor, the Knights of the Temple, and a crowd of 
 other associations with chivalric names, are organized chiefly 
 for helping their members in certain circumstances detailed in 
 their statutes. 
 
 Most of these societies have very strict conditions which 
 must be fulfilled by a would-be member. For instance, Knights 
 of Father Mathew must be practical Catholics, abstainers from 
 all fermented liquors, and even ready to act as apostles of tem 
 perance on occasion (Law II., Section 2). Further they must 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 355 
 
 be able to make their own living, be over sixteen and less than 
 fifty years old. Other societies, more or less affiliated with the 
 Free Masons, bind their members to religious indifference. 
 In a word, an attempt has been made in the United States 
 to use the great powers of mutual aid societies for the 
 furtherance of some religious or anti-religious end. This is a 
 new proof of their power. People group themselves also by 
 nationalities to keep up old associations in the new land ; by 
 professions for the discussion of subjects of interest to all 
 those following the same calling. The need for mutual aid has 
 taken almost every possible form. The only one that is almost 
 unknown in the United States is that to which we are most 
 accustomed in France and which is hidden in y our family orga 
 nization. There we rely on our moneyed relatives father, 
 mother or uncle to help us in case of need. Here it is neces 
 sary to create an artificial family that will render the same 
 services as our French ones do when an accident happens or 
 illness comes. This explains why the upper-classes in America 
 take out accident insurance policies, for which we, in France, 
 see no use, except for working-people. But everybody in 
 America is a workman in a sense, for everybody lives by his 
 labors and expects nothing from his family. 
 
 Accident Insurance Companies always keep an eye on 
 people, and you will be offered an accident policy at the ticket- 
 office in the depot, or at the hotel, lest the cars should run off 
 the track. The paper you buy often promises a certain num 
 ber of dollars should any accident befall you while reading it. 
 Advertisements like this are stuck up in the streets : 
 
 " Buy your accident insurance of the Commonwealth Casualty 
 Company of Missouri. Time is money ; the loss of time is the loss of 
 money; we insure against the loss. Fifteen dollars will keep a policy 
 in force one year with the following benefits : Loss of one eye, $650 ; 
 permanent total disability, $2,500. From accidental injury, $52 per 
 week. 
 
 Then follows a tariff for the loss of a hand, a leg, etc. 
 
 Besides the societies for insurance of material life, there are 
 many others among people having similar tastes, who form 
 themselves into clubs for boxing, rowing, baseball, riding, 
 cycling, book-buying, reading, etc., etc. The number and 
 
356 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 variety of such associations, founded simply to make it easier 
 to procure some pleasure or another, is extraordinary. 
 
 The Athletic Club in New York, composed of amateurs, has 
 just built itself a club-house. There is a swimming-bath, 150 
 feet by 50 feet, in the basement ; on the first floor are 
 several rooms, one of which, intended for receptions, is 
 large enough to hold 1,200 people ; a fencing-room, very com 
 pletely furnished ; a gymnasium with every conceivable appar 
 atus; then an asphalted track for cyclists and a sanded one for 
 walking and running ; and there is quite a terraced garden on 
 the roof. The club has 1,500 members. 
 
 In rising Western towns, of course, such clubs cannot be 
 found, but there are usually societies for sports of some kind 
 or another. Similarly, when no public library has been founded, 
 people club together and start a circulating one ; or they unite 
 to build a theatre, to bring a company of actors, etc. Two 
 young men, in a little Kansas town one a bank clerk, the other 
 in business told me that they had got " La Mascotte " played 
 by forming a committee of all people interested in the piece, 
 who guaranteed the company a minimum drawing for the per 
 formance. People are always found ready to undertake the 
 responsibility of organizing an affair, no matter what it maybe. 
 In such circumstances it is always easy to get any plan ex 
 ecuted. 
 
 I visited the Mercantile Library at St. Louis, a very pros 
 perous circulating library, kept up entirely by the subscriptions 
 of its members. It contains 90,000 volumes and buys four or 
 five thousand new ones every year It is in a large building of 
 its own, which it built some years ago, in the expectation of 
 future growth ; it occupies only the fifth floor, the four others 
 being let to a drapery store for $40,000. It is easy to imagine its 
 future from these figures. The majority of its members is 
 composed of ladies and girls. I saw a number coming to 
 change their books, asking information, consulting various 
 works. They have more time than have the men to spend in 
 culture. 
 
 The men often arrange to spend all the evenings, when they 
 are free from business, in educating themselves ; and many 
 societies provide a series of lectures for their members, and 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 357 
 
 even evening schools. I have before me the programme of a 
 Philadelphia Workingmen s Association, which engages com 
 petent professors to give instruction in American History, 
 English Literature, Physiology, Political Economy, Freehand- 
 Drawing, etc. 
 
 Willing people often undertake to deliver these lectures, and 
 give this new proof of their interest in the working-classes. 
 We are going to see, too, that certain disinterested and gener 
 ous souls have formed a special class of societies for looking 
 after higher things. A sort of collective manifestation of the 
 lofty sentiment of social responsibility which has given rise to 
 those great institutions we have already considered. 
 
 II. ASSOCIATIONS FOR PUBLIC SERVICE. 
 
 I shall not try to review the innumerable societies which set 
 themselves a special mission to accomplish some reform, to 
 develop some practice, to soothe some misery temperance 
 societies, societies for the protection of children, of women, of 
 animals, benevolent and charitable societies, etc., etc. I shall 
 simply mention a few I came across, which will serve to indicate 
 the powerfulness and activity of such societies. 
 
 They probably owe part of their efficiency to the liberal- 
 mindedness that exists in America. When some general inter 
 est is at stake, they do not hesitate to combine and come to the 
 rescue without any thought of narrow rivalry. This is all the 
 more remarkable because some of them are closely connected 
 with some sect or other, as I have already pointed out in the 
 case of Mutual Aid Societies. In spite of the differences from 
 this point of view, they organize congresses to study the ques 
 tions that are of interest to all. A Conference of Charities and 
 Corrections was held in Baltimore in 1890, owing to the initia 
 tive of some citizens. I take the following names from 
 the list of signatures to the letter of invitation, and their 
 juxtaposition will inspire the French Republic: Cardinal Gib 
 bons, Archbishop of Baltimore ; William Paret, Bishop (Prot 
 estant) of Maryland; Thos. J. Shryock, Grand Master of the 
 Maryland Free Masons ; Theo. Rothschild, Secretary of the 
 Orphan Jews Asylum ; Mrs. A. Fuller Crane, President of the 
 
358 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Impartial Humanitarian Society for the Relief of the Aged ; 
 J. Pembroke Thorn, M. D., President of the Maryland Insane 
 Asylum and of the Church of Christ Orphan Asylum; F. W. 
 Dammann, President of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul; 
 Philip Herzberg, President of the Jewish Benevolent Society, 
 etc., etc. The end must be charitable, and nothing but chari 
 table, for people belonging to such very different societies use 
 fully to confer together. With so well defined an aim, added 
 to the efficiency of American activity, it mubt have led to ex 
 cellent results. 
 
 I visited the studio of a young artist, who paints portraits 
 with very considerable talent, and who recently settled in the 
 States. At first she was unknown, and so had no orders and 
 hard times ; but one day she went to the Young Women s 
 Christian Association, told her case, and asked how she could 
 get some work. She told me that some rich, influential people 
 immediately interested themselves in trying to find her com 
 missions ; that she obtained several of her sitters in this way. 
 She added : " I have always found an inexhaustible good-will 
 to aid girls and young women who .must earn their own living, 
 no matter to what class they belong ordinary working-women 
 or ruined millionaires, governesses, artists, etc." Very rich 
 ladies usually put themselves at the head of such institutions, 
 so we are no longer dealing with mutual-aid but well-directed 
 beneficence, intelligent charity. The Ladies Exchange organ 
 izes a permanent exhibition of needle-work, fancy work, and 
 porcelain painting, dainty articles of every kind, which a woman 
 can do without leaving home, and which other richer women 
 love to own without giving themselves the trouble of making 
 them. In this way the Ladies Exchange helps many an un 
 known misery. 
 
 Societies whose principal aim is the moral improvement of 
 their adherents do not neglect other advantages which may 
 help to attract or to retain members. One of the most power 
 ful of such societies is the Young Men s Christian Associa 
 tion, which has branches almost all over the United States. 
 In some cities its premises are superb, and are at once recog 
 nized by the four initials, Y. M. C. A. Its double nature, 
 moral and practical, is best shown by the two advertisements 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 359 
 
 which I came across one day in Baltimore, within an hour or 
 two of each other. The first could affect only very virtuous 
 souls, heedless of the world s opinion. It announced that a 
 lecture on charity would be delivered, and few French people 
 will avoid a smile at the title, " Joseph, a Pure Man." A cler 
 gyman of some sect or another was to relate to members of 
 the Y. M. C. A., and all who cared to come and listen, the 
 story of the exemplary conduct of Joseph and the wicked 
 ways of Potiphar s wife. It was to be a sermon, pure and 
 simple. The second bill was occupied with more positive mat 
 ters. It read : 
 
 Every young man in East Baltimore should know that the Young 
 Men s Christian Association offers for $5 a year: ist, Gymnasium 
 with latest apparatus appliances and experienced instructor. 2d, Bath 
 shower, hot or cold water. 3d, Parlors, games, reading-rooms, 
 social meeting for young men, and good companionship ; entertain 
 ments by the best talents. Educational Classes Book-keeping, writ 
 ing, short-hand, typewriting, German, music and drawing. For 
 prospectus and full particulars apply to the Y. M. C. A. Office. Mem 
 bers received at any time. 
 
 This powerful Association has 195,000 members in the 
 United States and Canada, although it does not include any 
 young men except Protestants. It does not deliberately ex 
 clude Catholics, but the free interpretation of the Bible, the 
 only thing common to all Protestants, is the basis of the re 
 ligious teaching it gives to its members in various ways, so 
 that young Catholics are prevented from joining it. To re 
 medy this they have organized similar associations ; for in 
 stance, the Young Catholic s Friend Society ; and they also 
 zealously support the St. Vincent de Paul Societies, several of 
 which are very flourishing in America. 
 
 Among associations of a like nature may be mentioned the 
 Christian Endeavor Society, Order of the King s Daughters, 
 and many others, the last named counting 100,000 members, 
 who promise to spend part of their time in charitable works, 
 to the material improvement and moral elevation of the lower 
 classes. 
 
 These different societies are far from absorbing all the avail 
 able energy of Americans, who have plenty left for a crowd of 
 
360 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 special objects. I was introduced to a fashionable lady in 
 Philapelphia who had organized a Women s Silk Culture As 
 sociation. This is a matter of moment in view of the fact 
 that American manufacturers depend on France, Italy and 
 China for the large quantities of silk they use. The climate 
 of the Southern States is marvellously adapted to silk-worm 
 breeding, and these regions which have been suffering so 
 severely during the past twenty years may find a most useful 
 resource in this industry. Mrs. Lucas and several ladies in 
 Philadelphia belonging to the highest society, have turned 
 their attention to this matter, and are making most praise 
 worthy efforts to encourage the planting of mulberry trees and 
 the forming of silk-worm nurseries. Until now they have not 
 obtained any great results, but they are not discouraged. It 
 is a decidedly American spectacle to see women of the world 
 trying to form a new branch of national industry with the dis 
 interestedness of true statesmen. 
 
 I was admiring the vast extent of Fairmount Park in this 
 same city of Philadelphia one day, and calculating the enormous 
 sums its maintenance must cost the town in a country where all 
 handwork is so very expensive ; but a young physician to whom 
 I confided my thoughts answered, " Do not distress yourself; 
 the city does not bear the whole expense, for we have a so 
 ciety for keeping up and improving the public parks, and it 
 gives a large grant, and even does part of the work itself. 
 Every member pays a subscription of 5, and we number about 
 6,000 ; so we have $30,00x3 to spend every year, and our num 
 bers are increasing." 
 
 Most of the statues which adorn the public promenades 
 have been given by private individuals; and this explains the 
 extraordinary variety of people they represent. One day, 
 when I was walking in Central Park, New York, I sat down 
 near a bust on whose pedestal was carved Mazzini. I did not 
 expect to come across this name, but the crowd of Italian immi 
 grants in New York explains its presence. Statues of cele 
 brated men of every nationality and opinion can be seen, the 
 Park Committee willingly giving them a site, without trou 
 bling themselves about the strange comparisons suggested by 
 the proximity of certain people. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 361 
 
 The same freedom is granted to political associations. Every 
 body is free to express his sentiments as he pleases, and to try 
 to educate opinion by any means he thinks fit to adopt. For 
 instance, the old Southerners and Northerners celebrate anni 
 versaries of their respective victories during the Civil War, in 
 the same town, and make speeches in praise of their own gen 
 erals, have fireworks, etc. Of course, I know that the memo 
 ries of the war do not stir any practical rivalries, which, in fact, 
 are almost objectless now-a-days, for no Southerner would go 
 back to the old slave system. But, nevertheless, the permit 
 ting of all these demonstrations is a proof of a very tolerant 
 spirit. 
 
 The free association of citizens showed itself in all its power 
 at the time when that terrible crisis arose which seriously im 
 perilled the existence of the American Union. Union leagues 
 were formed, composed of citizens loyal to the Union in every 
 city, which equipped regiments at their own cost, bought can 
 nons and took under their personal charge a part of the war ex 
 penditure. When the war was ended the object of the leagues 
 had vanished, but they usually became the nucleus of fashion 
 able clubs which have preserved the name of Union League 
 Clubs, but they have nothing to do with politics except the 
 memories of their past. 
 
 This exhibits a very curious fact characteristic of the Amer 
 ican disposition. The healthy, active part of the population, 
 which does not live by politics, knows how to take in hand pub 
 lic affairs when a grave crisis demands their help ; then they 
 come with their practical spirit, their habits of initiative and 
 prompt decision, and when the crisis is past they go back 
 again to their own business. 
 
 For long, the essential characteristic of politics in the United 
 States was that they were managed by honest men in the rare 
 hours of leisure they could find in their busy lives, and never 
 by people who made them a profession. The Government, 
 democratic in its form, was shared by the majority of citizens 
 accustomed to freely unite themselves for the administration 
 of a number of interests, inspired by a sincere desire for public 
 welfare, and thoroughly qualified for their task. This dem 
 ocracy was daily educated in the thousand associations which 
 
362 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 supplied a number of needs without any legal restraint, and 
 the citizen who came from private to public life was fitted to 
 play his part therein. This education still exists. We have 
 just seen the vitality of association in America ; but the ele 
 ments thus trained for public life are but little used. Other 
 elements supplant them in present-day politics, under what 
 circumstances we shall presently see. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 POLITICS. THE CORRUPTION OF PUBLIC BODIES AND OF 
 POLITICIANS. How PUBLIC ACTION is SUBSTITUTED 
 WHEN PRIVATE INTEREST REQUIRES IT. THE RE 
 STRICTED NATURE OF PUBLIC AUTHORITY. 
 
 I. THE CORRUPTION OF PUBLIC BODIES AND OF POLITICIANS. 
 
 The most remarkable fact about present-day politics in 
 America is that honest men seem to have abandoned them to 
 professional politicians, and to interest themselves only in 
 private enterprises. A man who respects himself will not can 
 vass and will hardly accept any public office. There are some 
 men entitled to the highest consideration, who occupy seats 
 in the Supreme Court and in the Senate ; but very few of them 
 are to be found in the House of Representatives, and still fewer 
 among the magistrates or civil servants. 
 
 This has become especially marked since the Civil War. At 
 the end of that struggle, in which both North and South ex 
 hausted their resources, there was great need of recuperation. 
 For five years men had spent their time and money for the 
 general good, thousands of lives and millions of dollars had 
 been sacrificed, and a need of profiting by victory and peace, 
 in order to heal their wounds, was felt by all. 
 
 Further, the main cause of the war was an economic one. 
 The agricultural South wished to avoid the sudden abolition 
 of slavery and to freely import European goods. The manu 
 facturing North wished to raise a protecting wall around the 
 American market, and retain the exclusive right of trading in 
 it. When victory made it possible the North hastened to take 
 every advantage of it, to manufacture, to build new workshops, 
 to lay railroad tracks over the entire country, and to make the 
 
364 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 whole of the magnificent territory it possessed profitable. We 
 have seen what gigantic results have been gained since then ; 
 the West transformed, the cultivation of new lands progressing 
 with unheard of rapidity, Eastern manufactures developing in 
 like manner, and even beginning to spread to the Mississippi 
 Valley; mines opened up, etc., etc. All the active forces of 
 the nation were absorbed in such enormous undertakings that 
 one is amazed they sufficed to bring them to a successful 
 issue. 
 
 But politics were abandoned. Men felt as if they had 
 entered on an era of great security after the terrible shock of a 
 long and cruel civil war ; they saw an almost limitless field of 
 activity in front of them, where public action had no place, 
 and where free and independent individual initiative was all 
 powerful. It seemed, therefore, useless, harmful and dangerous 
 to waste time on politics, when that time was so urgently 
 needed for other affairs. They had not to govern, but to make 
 a country. Their land had nothing to fear from its neighbors, 
 but it needed every effort of all its children to help its 
 development. All the current flow of energy and activity 
 which had been employed for five years in preserving the 
 Union was now diverted into another channel. 
 
 Moreover, it is very difficult to look after private interests 
 and public affairs at the same time ; if the former are absorbing, 
 the latter are equally so. But elections give only short-lived 
 powers, usually one or two years. The commission must 
 constantly be renewed ; a member must keep his constituents 
 in working order by meetings ; he must continually be edu 
 cating them, and never let himself out of touch with them for 
 an instant. In fact there is no truce to the electoral campaign. 
 Then the political centres are not the industrial nor the com 
 mercial ones. Washington, the seat of the Federal Chambers, 
 is a dead city ; and in most States the political capital is not 
 one of their great cities : New York Assemblymen and Senators 
 meet at Albany, not at New York city ; those of Pennsylvania 
 at Harrisburg and not at Philadelphia; those of Illinois at 
 Sprinfield and not at Chicago. Men who have their business 
 in these large cities would be obliged to give them up in order 
 to take part in public affairs. They quietly decide between 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 365 
 
 profession and politics, when they are at all successful in their 
 professions. 
 
 When the men who are eminent in private life are thus 
 brought to neglect their public duties, into whose hands shall 
 they fall? Quite naturally into the hands of those who have 
 not been able or who have not wished to get on into the 
 hands of politicians. 
 
 An American politician is a refuse (un raid) of private life. 
 He is the outcast from agriculture, from industry and from 
 commerce the man unable or not anxious to earn his living 
 by work, incapable or not wishing to make a business for him 
 self; his calling, his business becomes politics. He carries on 
 this business just as others run a grocery store, or breed 
 cattle in order to make a living. 
 
 Politics are worthless when reduced to the role of bread- 
 winning, except when they pay well, as all businesses should do. 
 In the townships the politicians cannot pay expenses, and 
 honest men can look after the simple interests which affect 
 them very closely without any loss of time. In a county the 
 judgeships have their little profits, but not usually enough for 
 a man to live on ; so that these can only be accessory employ 
 ments. The State Legislatures, and the offices they offer, are 
 more attractive. With due skill, for instance, in getting rail 
 road companies to buy his votes in the case of questions that 
 interest them, a politician may make a desirable income. The 
 revenues are large enough not only to feed Senators and Assem 
 blymen, but also that interesting class of lobbyists middlemen 
 who put the venal legislator into communication with a buyer, 
 and who prowl about the houses in search of some good 
 stroke to be done, seeking the little dirty jobs that appertain 
 to their disgusting specialty. 
 
 Congressmen are also surrounded by lobbyists, as is very 
 necessary when a tariff question, such as the recent McKinley 
 Bill, or a money measure, such as the Silver Bill, are being 
 discussed. As great financial interests are concerned, and a 
 vote can be sold at a high figure, there are many important 
 transactions which the skilled intrigue of lobbyists may con 
 trive to the great profit of the Congressmen and their own. 
 
 In the drama of city administration the politician finds his 
 
366 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 most profitable part. The complexity of the municipal busi 
 ness of a rich and populous city, and the time it de 
 mands, fatally prevent men occupied with private business 
 from taking part in it. The execution of public works affords 
 opportunities for numerous money-jobbings, and their import 
 ance permits embezzlement on a large scale. Here is the para 
 dise of politicians. Then, all the judicial posts become lucra 
 tive, for many rich people are able to buy up those who fill 
 them. The great efforts of politicians are all put forth in the 
 large cities. 
 
 They must have a large connection among electors, in what 
 ever field of activity they may choose, before they can attain 
 power. In the South they find it in the negro element. At 
 the close of the Civil War Yankee " carpet-baggers," who settled 
 for a time among the conquered expressly to oppress them, 
 made use of the resentment of the late slaves against their 
 former masters in the most objectionable way, and made a 
 weapon for themselves out of the antagonism which they were 
 careful to maintain and to stir up. The Legislature of South 
 Carolina, in particular, became a veritable den of thieves un 
 der the rule of "carpet-baggers "and negroes. Those of Missouri, 
 Virginia and Maryland were scarcely behind it, and even to 
 day, although there is an improvement on the whole, that of 
 Louisiana is said to closely imitate these fine models. In the 
 mining States, California, for instance, the " carpet-baggers " lean 
 on the great mass of adventurers, attracted by a hope of rapid 
 fortune-making ; while in purely agricultural States, where rural 
 influences have not been smothered by a great city, they have 
 very much less power. It is possible to hope that time will 
 partly cure this condition of affairs in the South and in Cali 
 fornia. In the South the sad souvenirs of the war will vanish ; 
 the great development of agriculture in California will help to 
 balance that of the mines. 
 
 But the evil seems more incurable, less accidental and more 
 chronic in the Eastern States which contain large cities, such 
 as New York. We must study the system of corruption 
 there in order to appreciate its true nature. The unconscious 
 accomplice of the politician his instrument if you will, is no 
 longer the negro, but the immigrant newly landed ; who be 
 comes a member of a democracy at one bound after leaving the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 367 
 
 aristocratic countries of the Old World. Such accomplices 
 have been legion during the past forty years. About the 
 middle of this century European immigration began to develop 
 at an enormous rate. The United States received more than 
 14,000,000 immigrants from 1845 to 1889 inclusive. All these 
 soon became American citizens, owing to the extraordinary ease 
 of naturalization, which can be had after five years residence. 
 The majority of immigrants came from Germany, Ireland, 
 England and Scandinavia. The Germans divide themselves 
 between town and country, the Irish gather in cities, the 
 English and Scandinavians disperse on farms. The great 
 urban centres of the East are thus invaded by a crowd of Irish 
 and Germans, very badly prepared for the exercise of the 
 political rights which they enjoy the minute they become 
 American citizens. 
 
 The Irish, driven from their island by profound misery, char 
 acteristically improvident, and without training for any kind 
 of trade, form a class of perfectly incompetent electors. They 
 are children to whom serious interests have been entrusted ; 
 they are even worse than children, for they are men of full age 
 without experience and incapable of getting it in the sub 
 sidiary positions they usually fill. These evicted farmers, dis 
 gusted with agriculture, usually become servants, second-rate 
 clerks, etc.; they fill inferior places willingly abandoned by 
 native-born Americans. Their transplantation from Ireland to 
 America does not raise them, although it sensibly improves 
 their natural condition. Such electors are a danger in them 
 selves. The Irish are dangerous, not only because of this al 
 most incurable incapacity, but also because they are accustomed 
 to the utmost perfection of a certain kind of organization, and 
 consequently easily lend themselves to concerted action. 
 They are capable of forming a powerful league of incapables. 
 Everything prepares them for this part, and first of all their 
 family constitution, a kind of communal patriarchate the 
 sept the jealously exclusive clan, where each one counts on 
 the force of his group rather than on his individual energy ; 
 then their history, a long series of revolts against an oppressor 
 of centuries standing, which has led them to draw closer to 
 gether in secret societies or in openly acknowledged leagues, 
 according as they estimated their chances of success ; and 
 
368 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 lastly their arrival in crowds in a strange land gives them a 
 new reason for union, while their settling in towns yields a 
 new facility for doing so. Note that the kind of association 
 they have been used to in Ireland is nothing but a political 
 organization, and must be, since all their efforts are directed 
 towards ridding themselves of a conqueror and regaining their 
 National independence. These immigrants are sure to form 
 themselves into a compact political body. 
 
 They have* very great influence in public, but very 
 little in private affairs. My readers must have noticed that I 
 have been able to describe many farms, manufactories, banks, 
 etc., without saying much about the Irish. They are very numer 
 ous in the workshops but as workmen, and only rarely as 
 managers. In studying political life, it is necessary to recog 
 nize the important place they hold, no matter what their situa 
 tion may be ; for where there is majority-law, \vorker or vaga 
 bond counts for as much as a Mr. Pullman. 
 
 The first time I visited New York I landed on St. Patrick s 
 Day. The green flag of the Emerald Isle waved over the City 
 Hall, Irish societies marched through the streets with banners 
 flying ; the newspaper I bought the World was printed on 
 green paper, and its columns overflowed with enthusiasm about 
 the processions, the orations, the banquets, the toasts, which 
 occur on St. Patrick s Day. I have never been in Ireland, but 
 I imagine that this national festival could not be better 
 celebrated in Dublin. The Irish seem to have become masters 
 of New York. 
 
 They have conquered, politically, and occupy an important 
 place among the group of politicians that oppress it ; they con 
 stitute the great body of the army which these lead to the 
 fight, and by means of this rank and file assure their victory. 
 
 Everybody has heard of the " Tammany Ring," famous for 
 the extraordinary peculations of its members. The Ring origi 
 nated in an Irish society, and its way of working is to make 
 use of the votes of ignorant electors ; so that its development 
 has been parallel to the increase of immigration, especially of 
 Irish immigration. ] 
 
 i A detailed history of the origin and organization of the Tammany Ring will be 
 found in Mr. Rryce s work : " The American Commonwealths; " Vol. II. , Ch. 
 
 Lxxxvnr. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 369 
 
 The Tammany Society, at its foundation in 1805, was the 
 meeting-place of New York Democrats; after 1822 it was 
 appointed a managing electoral committee at a meeting of 
 Democrats, and soon became despotic under the leadership of 
 a few politicians. Its power grew with the enormous increase 
 of immigration between 1855 and 1860; and in 1863, under the 
 presidency of William Tw r eed, a typical politician, it became 
 still more powerful and entered on the stage of public life. 
 The honest*folks of these days first dubbed it the Tammany 
 Ring. Tammany politicians were enclosed in a " ring," as 
 in a fortress, and no citizen could hold any public appoint 
 ment without being inside it. It was a clan of .limited mem 
 bership, which had seized upon political power and made use 
 of it for its own profit. 
 
 First of all the ring seized the judgeships, so that those who 
 were in office might wink at the thefts they proposed to com 
 mit ; then, little by little, they got hold of the municipal 
 offices in New York, and commenced operations, each member 
 quickly and shamelessly filling his pockets. As the city was grow 
 ing rapidly, those operations became all the more profitable, for 
 improvements had to be undertaken, which meant huge bribes ; 
 and the increase of city expenditure permitted the ring to job 
 on a large scale. European immigrants continued to crowd 
 into New York and swell the ranks of ignorant electors, who 
 supported the Ring at the same time that its field of action 
 was widening. 
 
 But there was one serious obstacle which restricted the free 
 dom of official brigandage dreamed of by the Ring. The city 
 and State of New York had always been opposed to each 
 other, and the city charter was not a very liberal one. The 
 majority in the State was Republican, which party constantly 
 tried to diminish the autonomy of the city, where the Demo 
 crats were more numerous. The Ring felt its action crippled 
 by this species of guardianship ; but it got rid of it in 1869, 
 when the State majority became Democratic. New York was 
 at once granted a new charter, expressly framed to favor this 
 official plundering. Then followed the golden age of the 
 Tammany Ring. 
 
 The bribes of this period are still famous, the most cele- 
 
3/0 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 brated being those given and received during the building of 
 the County Court-House. The estimated maximum cost was 
 $250,000. Accounts for over eight millions had been passed, 
 when the manoeuvres of the Ring were stopped before the 
 building was finished. Every contractor was constantly asked 
 to artificially increase his bill and the difference was lost in the 
 depths of the Councilmen s pockets. The widening of Broad 
 way resulted in another similar scandal. The compensation 
 given to proprietors varied from one to three, according to 
 their sympathy with the Ring ; the officials bought strips 
 of ground bordering the street, in places they were sure would 
 be bought by the city. Broadway was a den of thieves. At 
 the same time city affairs were sacrificed for private ones, and 
 its debt was increasing $28,500,000 yearly, and the financial 
 statements of the City Comptroller showed that almost a half 
 of the acknowledged expenditure was for " general purposes." 
 
 The discovery of such startling abuses was only a matter of 
 time. One day, in 1871, a minor official, not in league with 
 the Tammany Ring, came across some damaging documents, 
 carefully copied them, and carried them to the New York 
 Times. An enormous commotion was caused by this dis 
 covery; and, after a number of meetings, a vigilance committee, 
 chosen from honest citizens, was deputed to examine the city 
 accounts. In the end, the officials mainly involved were 
 obliged to resign. Some fled to foreign lands, while others, 
 like Tweed, did not manage to escape in time. New York, for 
 several years after this, had no more of the rule that had 
 ruined her. 
 
 But the vigilance committee, " the seventy," as they were 
 called, could not remain in orifice forever. It was made up 
 of business men with little leisure, most of whom had no con 
 nection with political organizations, and was more fitted to 
 crush the power of the Tammany Ring during a crisis than 
 to take the government of the city in hand. So, little by little, 
 the activity of honest people was less and less stimulated, the 
 memories of these frauds were dying out, and constant immi 
 gration was giving the politicians a new lease of power by 
 adding a crowd of ignorant and foreign people to the electorate, 
 and Tammany began to lift its head once again. It was fatal. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 371 
 
 The power of these politicians was not the result of an accident 
 or of chance. Another crisis happened which the growth of 
 the city made but more intense. New scandals were revealed 
 in 1890. 
 
 This time a committee of the Senate of New York State dis 
 covered the frauds. The administration of the Sheriff of New 
 York was tainted with grave irregularities ; in plain language, 
 the Sheriff had stolen. The committee followed up the clue, 
 and found that this had been going on for several years. So, 
 instead of one Sheriff, half a dozen were brought before the 
 Court of Common Pleas. The occupant for the timebeing 
 had very opportunely crossed the Atlantic to seek health 
 in Baden, but the others, who did not expect a retrospective 
 review of their administration, were forced to put in an ap 
 pearance. Interesting revelations followed. For instance, it 
 was told how Grant, the Mayor of New York, had pocketed 
 over $20,000 when he was Sheriff, from fees which the official 
 valuer, entrusted with the sale of the property of insolvents, 
 had illegally charged. 
 
 Ludlow^Street Prison was the scene of numberless frauds. It 
 was in the Sheriff s keeping, and the director was also in league 
 with Tammany, both of which honorable officials make excel 
 lent profits by not disdaining on occasion to let a prisoner out on 
 bail, and always forgeting to pay it up. 
 
 During the agitation about the site for the World s Fair, 
 to celebrate the fourth centenary of the discovery of America, 
 the whole Tammany clan worked with might and main to get 
 it for New York, and to place the direction of the exposition 
 in the hands of mayor Grant, who had the advantage, in the 
 eyes of his accomplices, of being both rich and rapacious. His 
 riches made him less liable to be suspected. His rapacity 
 would lead him to exploit those under his jurisdiction with as 
 much ardor as the most starving politician. Unluckily for 
 Tammany, Chicago was the city chosen for the World s Fair, 
 and shortly afterwards the embezzlement of the sheriffs of 
 New York were found out, and instead of a new chance of 
 jobbery, they had an opportunity of disbursing. 
 
 The Government of New York has not ceased to be profitable 
 to its administrators. Every now and then this or that credit 
 
3/2 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 is exhausted, without anybody knowing what has become of it. 
 In March, 1890, a snowstorm raged over the city; the streets 
 were in the filthiest condition, and passengers had to wade 
 ankle-deep through the slush to reach a street-car. Even 
 Broadway, the great artery of the city, was in this wretched 
 state. All the same, $50,000 appeared in the estimates for 
 clearing away snow, but the worthy officials had hoped that 
 they would not be visited by another snowstorm that season, 
 and the S5> oo na d taken another direction. 
 
 The result of such proceedings is that this rich city is as 
 badly cared for as a poor village. It is badly paved, defect 
 ively drained, muddy in winter, dusty in summer. The traveller 
 finds this out for himself, and soon learns the cause if he hap 
 pens to talk with an American, for everybody, except those 
 in the Tammany net, cries out against corruption. 
 
 In spite of this outcry matters have not grown better, for at 
 the next election the great body of voters were led to the polls 
 like a docile herd, and honest men, disgusted at this outcome of 
 the fight, are retiring from public life. Some great scandal, 
 such as that of 1871, when the Committee of Seventy was 
 formed, must happen e er they can be aroused from this pas 
 sive attitude. Then the discredited politicians will disappear 
 from the scene for an instant, but will soon be brought back 
 again by the mass of ignorant voters. 
 
 Corruption exists outside the great cities, but not to such an 
 extent ; in the federal government, in the local government, 
 and in the law courts. I have already explained that the evil 
 is in direct proportion to two elements; the magnitude of the 
 possible underhand transactions which tempt the politicians, 
 and the number of electors who will support these men. 
 Since the Civil War these two causes have received new 
 strength with deplorable results. The first fruit of Northern 
 victory was an outrageous protection system which prodigiously 
 increased the drawings of the custom-houses, the most im 
 portant source of Federal revenue. With this surplus the 
 State has been able to rapidly lessen its debt, but it has also 
 made it a duty to use part of it for paying services rendered 
 to the North during the Civil War by granting a multitude of 
 pensions to old soldiers. This, legitimate enough in principle, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 373 
 
 soon gave rise to startling abuses, when the politicians found 
 out that it was a simple and easy way of making friends, and 
 soon every soldier s widow, mother and children were benefit 
 ing by this governmental liberality. Owing to a voluntary neg 
 ligence, pensions are drawn to-day for holders who have been 
 in their graves several years. This helps to increase the voters 
 for the party in power and the growing customs revenue al 
 lows the United States Treasury to pay for the current year 
 $i6o,coo,oco for what is called the Union Defence Fund with 
 out imposing taxes. 
 
 Of course there is no lack of protest. The Democrats, who 
 are usually free-traders, and consequently opponents of the 
 high tariffs which augment the customs revenue, very 
 strongly denounce this wasting of public monies in great pub 
 lic meetings ; all the same they may be more exercised to see 
 how this waste helps to strengthen the protectionist Repub 
 licans, consisting largely of the old Northern party, than to see 
 the squandering itself. The Republicans, noticing the bad 
 effects of their liberality on the majority of consumers who 
 suffer from the effects of a high tariff and without receiving 
 any return in the shape of a soldier s pension, have recently 
 invented a remarkable piece of machinery for quieting public 
 opinion. When Major McKinley introduced his first bill, any 
 one who heard him would have thought that his main desire 
 was to reduce, and even to completely stop the receipts of the 
 custom-house. He stated that he would absolutely close the 
 American market to foreign products ; that the Federal 
 Treasury would soon be empty, and that he was anxious, by 
 stopping the source of these military pensions, to bring about 
 a reign of Puritan virtue. Of course, foreign produce con 
 tinues to pour into the United States, and the Treasury is 
 overflowing. For whose profit? The future will show. 
 
 Such facts as I have just cited explain the very unfavorable 
 estimates often given of American society. People who judge 
 a nation by its government cannot have any confidence in the 
 future of the United States, but those who know what mar 
 vellous energy America shows every day in a thousand differ 
 ent ways, who have seen it at work and realized its worth, will 
 never dream of looking on it as a broken-down society, not at 
 
374 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 all it is a developing organism which gets some hard knocks 
 as it grows, but which is big enough to bear them. Readers 
 who have been good enough to follow me through the past 
 chapters will doubtless have great difficulty in admitting that 
 this ever-growing people, so diligent and active, will let itself 
 be ruined by vagabond politicians. It is true there is a strik 
 ing contrast between the healthy vigor of their private life and 
 the corruption in public affairs. But the contrast can be ex 
 plained. First of all, we must discover what parts of the 
 nation resist such a state of affairs, and how they act in a 
 grave crisis. 
 
 We know these elements already, for we have come across 
 the men turning their attention to matters of universal interest 
 left untouched by the authorities, and furthering them by or 
 ganizing special foundations or associations. These men we 
 must now study in a new role. 
 
 II. HOW PUBLIC ACTION IS SUBSTITUTED WHEN PRIVATE INTEREST 
 
 REQUIRES IT. 
 
 The Americans are in almost the same situation as the cap 
 tain of a vessel who discovers, in the midst of a raging storm, 
 that the cook is a thief. The captain evidently cannot leave 
 the bridge to examine the accounts, he has other duties to at 
 tend to, and as long as the storm lasts the cook may go on 
 with impunity. When one says to Americans that the poli 
 ticians are thieves they usually answer, " Well, I guess they 
 are." 
 
 As long as business prospers and politicians do not interfere 
 with its progress they easily escape the punishment they de 
 serve ; but whenever their action affects private affairs they 
 are got rid of with wonderful ease. 
 
 To men who \vork, respect for property is as useful as re 
 spect for discipline to sailors. A settler who has broken the 
 prairies to sow wheat cannot succeed if his idle neighbor comes 
 and carries off his crops at harvest time. A ranchman who 
 imports breeding animals at a great cost, loses his money if 
 anybody can steal them ; but the farmer or ranchman energetic 
 enough to settle in some out of the way wild of the West, will 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 375 
 
 not allow laws to be made by scoundrels, and if nobody else 
 protects them they protect themselves. 
 
 In the town the banker, trader, or manufacturer who puts up 
 with having to wade through mud on the way to business, be 
 cause they get there all the same, will not let the rabble break 
 open their safes. Should the police not arrest evil-doers, 
 should a fortunate or bribed judge not be severe enough, they 
 turn themselves into police, judge, and execute their sentence. 
 Before liberty even, to work is their first demand, and this is 
 much the most sacred of all liberties. 
 
 But American judges have more than one sort of weakness. 
 They may be frightened by threats of not being re-elected, 
 they may be bought, there are several ways of getting hold of 
 them, some of^them very effective ; and, then, several half- 
 settled countries have not any judges yet. Order would be 
 difficult to keep did private action not step in and revise the 
 judgments of corrupt judges and supply a judge s place where 
 magistrates do not exist. 
 
 This happens often enough for Americans to have a special 
 term for it " lynching." Judge Lynch, represented by a group 
 of honest neighbors, steps in when there is no other, and hangs 
 any convicted criminal on the nearest tree. 
 
 I know that lynch law is usually considered a sign of bar 
 barism in France. Magistrates have not a sufficient number 
 of defamatory expressions to stigmatize a law which sets itself 
 above laws ; but if honest Europeans think thus, honest Amer 
 icans think otherwise. 
 
 In the first place, they are not governed with the idea that 
 a man should never take justice into his own hands ; for, to 
 their thinking, not only has society, as a whole, the right to keep 
 order and punish criminals, but every honest member also. 
 Order is the first need of everybody and also of each person. 
 If repressive powers are given to magistrates by them, it is on 
 the tacit condition that they will do justly, and so nothing 
 seems more natural than that they should resume them them 
 selves \\hen this is abused. 
 
 In the second place, their usual promptness of action makes 
 the American set aside all the slow and complicated formalities 
 of European justice. When a man has clearly killed some- 
 
376 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 body or stolen something, they think it only reasonable 
 that he should be hung without delay. Further, their custom 
 of doing things on their own initiative helps them to come to 
 a grave decision and assume all responsibility. They fearlessly 
 do what they think just. 
 
 Lastly, necessity often forces them to act in this way. 
 Nobody needs philosophic arguments to realize that everybody 
 in Western wilds has the right of seeing that order reigns 
 around him. In a great city, when the police are not enough 
 for their duties, people have the same impression, but lynch- 
 law does not act in the same way when it is applied in the 
 prairie and in populous centres. 
 
 Prairie sentences are usually summary. The ranchman, who 
 has had some horses stolen, jumps on his horse and gallops off, 
 accompanied by two or three neighbors, and hunts the thief. 
 The peaceful traveller they come across, must look out ! If 
 appearances are against him ; if he cannot justify his presence; 
 if he is confused in his replies, the improvised tribunal cites 
 him to its bar and condemns him without mercy. That 
 awkward mistakes have been made cannot be denied, and the 
 regrets the repentant lynchers sometimes present to the widow 
 of their victim are not enough to repair matters. But how can 
 this be helped ? It is impossible to have perfect justice in half 
 desert places. 
 
 In cities, on the other hand, lynch-law is surrounded by 
 serious guarantees. No improvised jury pronounces the death 
 sentence, but a vigilance committee, composed of honorable 
 citizens, judge in equity criminals of undoubted guilt. They 
 not only punish evil-doers, but they revise the judgments of 
 official justice when it seems tainted with grave error. The 
 vigilance committee thus takes the place of a veritable juris 
 diction, unacknowledged de jure but admitted de facto, and 
 good citizens put their trust in it because it will not let itself 
 be corrupted. 
 
 Life would be impossible without it in some Western mining 
 centres and in some Southern seaports. The San Francisco 
 Vigilance Committee had much to do to assure a minimum of 
 necessary order. At Denver it has been able to make the town 
 decent, which formerly used to be the meeting-place of the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 377 
 
 worst type of villains. At New Orleans it is just about to put 
 down the growing power of the Sicilian Maffia. This last is 
 quite recent, so we shall stop a moment to examine it. 
 
 Everybody knows that Italy in general and Sicily in parti 
 cular is the bandit s promised-land. Bandits of Abruzzes, of 
 Naples, of Palermo, have founded a number of secret societies 
 "Camorra," "Mala Vita," " Maffia," etc., whose main object is 
 to get their members a living at the expense of the working 
 portion of the population. They are very successful, in spite 
 of official justice and King Humbert s constabulary. A large 
 number of Sicilians having emigrated to New Orleans, an im 
 portant branch of the Maffia was started there some years ago. 
 Owing to the slowness of justice, it began to prosper as in the 
 mother-country until Mr. Hennessy, an energetic superin 
 tendent of police, took on hand to put a stop to its misdeeds. 
 This was enough for the grand council of the Maffia to con 
 demn him to death, and a few days afterwards the chosen 
 members put it in execution. The assassins were seized and 
 dragged before a jury and acquitted. 
 
 The jurymen, fearing the terrible vengeance of the Maffia 
 after this example of their revenge on Mr. Hennessy, failed to 
 do their duty, and acquitted the guilty to save their own lives. 
 The situation was grave. The Maffia could commit crimes 
 with impunity in New Orleans as in Palermo. Luckily the 
 Vigilance Committee was not so weak as the jury, and, owing 
 to it, Mr. Hennessy s assassins were arrested and hung, to the 
 satisfaction of every honest man. Of course, such summary 
 justice, so different from our European customs, was not to the 
 liking of Italian diplomatists in Washington. Hence the Italo- 
 American Question, which my readers no doubt remember, 
 whose curious history we need not follow any further here. 
 
 Vigilance committees are usually supported by the press. 
 Sometimes they find it a great aid, and work in combination 
 with it. The press publicly denounces the abettors of mischief, 
 who are always able to have their reply published in the accus 
 ing newspaper. 
 
 It thus publishes a preliminary statement which eases the 
 work of the committee. This happens especially in times of 
 serious trouble, and normally in young mining villages always 
 
3/8 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 infested by all kinds of adventurers. I have already told how 
 some years ago, at Denver, the printers of the Rocky Mountain 
 Neu s worked with their revolvers beside them, and the editor 
 never went down the street without having bullets whistling 
 around him. No constable or examining-magistrate was ever 
 subjected to a more intense intimidation. They really were 
 acting like policemen and judges, with this difference, that they 
 were personally greatly interested in the outcome of their 
 pursuit. They had to discover and punish evil-doers or quit 
 a place which had become uninhabitable. No official action 
 could have been more efficacious than theirs. 
 
 We must remember that vigilance committees may be useful, 
 although they do not hang people. The New York Seventy, 
 which examined the city accounts in 1871, pronounced no 
 capital sentence, but it did great service to the city, which 
 again has great need of its action against politicians who are 
 sucking it dry. 
 
 Americans guard themselves against possible failures of pub 
 lic action by private interference, not only in matters of justice, 
 but also by making officials of all ranks personally responsible 
 for the acts of their administration, and liable to be sued for 
 any fault. Every functionary is sacred in France. When he 
 acts in an official capacity he is responsible only to his superiors, 
 and not to the public, which is looked upon as his inferior. 
 Should he overstep his powers and break the law, an official 
 court judges him. Any special case of law-breaking has little 
 chance of being repaired, for numerous and expensive formali 
 ties have to be observed before it can be done, and in the long 
 run the case usually breaks down by the official proving that 
 he acted within the limits of official right, even though he 
 may have done an acknowledged injury. This " official guar 
 antee" does not exist in America. The official is, first of all, a 
 man; and if that man causes any damage whatever, he must 
 pay for it like everybody else. As an official he is likely to 
 damage private interests oftener. That is all his privilege. 
 
 Official tyranny becomes very difficult under such conditions. 
 A politician may not be hindered from pillaging the public 
 purse, but if a police officer arrests you without sufficient 
 cause, he is treated like a pickpocket by the law. In short, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 379 
 
 private life is well protected against any invasion of public life, 
 and this is one of the reasons why America continues to de 
 velop in spite of its corrupt politicians. 
 
 Another reason is that the sphere of action of public powers 
 is carefully determined and also restricted. The individual 
 gives up to the township or county as few political rights as 
 possible ; the township and the county do the same with the 
 State, and the State acts in a like way to the Federal Govern 
 ment. In this society the individual takes the lead, and the 
 powers that be grow less important as they recede from him. 
 It is exactly the opposite in France. 
 
 III. THE LIMITED NATURE OF AUTHORITY. 
 
 I shall not inflict a discourse on American administrative 
 law on my readers, for it has been discussed often and with 
 many details by several authors. It is, therefore, well enough 
 known, and, moreover, we are too inclined to over-estimate its 
 importance. 
 
 One cannot live long in America without being astonished at 
 the almost, complete absence of authoritative interference in 
 anything. It is rare to find the Government objecting to any 
 private plan, and still more seldom is it appealed to for help. 
 Were all public authority in the United States to disappear a 
 great majority of institutions would go on without knowing this 
 happened, because they are really independent of the State. 
 I should be giving a false idea of this American life we are 
 studying were I to make a long digression about its political 
 organization. Further, there is not much interest in knowing 
 the details of administrative forms in the United States, be 
 cause there is a most marked tendency to pay little attention 
 to formalities. Instead of studying governmental machinery in 
 legal tests, it is much better to examine its outward manifesta 
 tions, which will give us a living idea of the limited nature of 
 authority in America, and help us to understand it much better. 
 Such observations are easily made, for America has one city 
 consecrated to government. Washington has no industry and 
 no commerce, except a local retail trade. It is not the Capital 
 of politics, commerce, finance and literature as Paris is, but 
 simply the political Capital. 
 
380 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Its artificial and official nature is noticed at once, and recalls 
 Versailles in some ways; the immoderately wide avenues lined 
 with houses usually not very high, increasing still more the 
 seeming breadth of the streets ; no great stir, which gives one 
 an impression of solitude after coming from New York or 
 Philadelphia ; a profusion of statues in memory of American 
 generals and statesmen ; and lastly the Capitol, the mathemati 
 cal centre of the city, occupying the summit of a hill above 
 which it raises its lofty dome between two long marble wings. 
 It is almost the only imposing monument. The other govern 
 ment buildings seem shabby to European eyes accustomed to 
 a liberal display of the purple. The White House, the resi 
 dence of the President of the United States, is a large-sized 
 villa, the home of a rich bourgeois rather than a palace. It 
 has a pleasant-looking exterior, especially that facing the 
 Potomac, owing to the large public square in front of it. There 
 is nothing extraordinary inside except the bad taste shown in 
 the decoration of several rooms. The blue-room, where Presi 
 dent Cleveland was recently married, is specially objection 
 able, owing to the startling vulgarity of the gilding. The 
 green-room is scarcely less ugly, and one has to turn and look 
 out of the window to rest the eyes on the flowery lawns of the 
 garden. 
 
 A member of the House of Representatives, who offered to 
 present me to President Harrison, was my guide to the White 
 House. \Ve mounted from the ground floor by a narrow stair 
 case to his private room, an unostentatious apartment sur 
 rounded by libraries. The President spoke with us a few 
 minutes longer than a busy man would have done; asked me 
 my reasons for coming to the United States, with the air of a 
 man who made it his business to put such questions to people 
 who were presented to him ; then shook hands with us, and we 
 took our leave. There is thus no difficulty in reaching the 
 presence of the head of the States. 
 
 After seeing the White House we visited the different De 
 partments of State. The buildings seemed much smaller than 
 our corresponding European ones, yet I was looking on all 
 the offices of the central administration of an immense country, 
 twice as populous as France and thirty or forty times as large. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 381 
 
 Some business buildings in New York, Philadelphia and Chi 
 cago are as large as these government offices. Each depart 
 ment has not a separate house. The Home, War and Navy 
 offices are in one large building west of the White House, and 
 are the counterpart of the Treasury Department. The Agri 
 cultural Department stands by itself in the middle of experi 
 mental gardens, and does nothing but statistical work and ac 
 climation experiments ; in reality it is only a bureau of informa 
 tion. The Office of Education also simply collects documents 
 abont public instruction, which is organized by each State in its 
 own manner. But there are two immense buildings standing 
 face to face, the Post Office and the Patent Office. It is easy 
 to understand how the former is so great in an immense country 
 like the United States. The Patent Office is simply a place 
 for registering inventions, and its size does not prove the 
 power of the Government ; only the immensity of private enter 
 prise and the inventive genius of Americans. The Patent Office 
 publishes nearly every fortnight a fairly large volume of closely- 
 printed two-columned pages, describing specifications of inven 
 tions. In one year there were twenty-three different patents 
 taken out for improvements on seats. 
 
 The Officers of State, like the President, are quite accessi 
 ble. I met four in the course of one morning, under the 
 guidance of my Congressman friend. Of course I had no favor 
 to ask them, which may explain their readiness to receive me. 
 The absence of formalities is astonishing. I went to a meeting 
 of the Senate. The square room in which the eighty-four Sen 
 ators meet is somewhat like our college lecture-room. The Presi 
 dent sits on a chair, on a low platform ; everybody speaks from 
 his place and there is no special show. Instead of the ushers 
 wearing a chain as we are accustomed to see in France, little 
 boys, from ten to fourteen years old, run about with letters, 
 and telegrams for the Senators, who crack their fingers when 
 they want one of them, and a boy immediately runs like a young 
 rabbit right into the middle of the hall, without any respect 
 for the High Chamber, while his companions are squatted on 
 the steps of the President s platform, and roll about and 
 play when they are not needed. The public places are almost 
 empty, both here and in the House of Representatives, for peo- 
 
382 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 pie are not interested in their proceedings, except when some 
 question is being discussed which affects everybody, such as 
 tariffs and monetary matters. The centre of life is elsewhere. 
 The New York and Chicago papers do not take the trouble of 
 reporting debates in Congress. When a citizen of those places 
 has any time except for business, he is too much concerned 
 about local affairs to trouble about federal matters. He pays 
 taxes to the municipality, and its members are the men who 
 most need looking after. There is, of course, a considerable 
 stir all over the country at the time of Congressional or Presi 
 dential elections; but this is easily explained, first of all by 
 the passions with which the candidates carry on a fight that is 
 a question of subsistence with them ; and secondly, owing to 
 the interest everybody takes in tariff legislation about the 
 only point of difference between the Republican and Demo 
 cratic platforms. 
 
 The weakness of the army is one of the most marked signs 
 of the limitation of State authority. Our Governments rightly 
 imagine that they cannot keep order even at home, if they are 
 not backed up by a strong public force of policemen or soldiers, 
 which will enforce their decrees. They ask too much from the 
 country for it to willingly obey them. But in America the 
 State seldom interferes with the citizen, and so there is little 
 need for agents of repression. The citizen there wishes, above 
 all things, to be perfectly free in his movements, and becomes 
 anxious when the central authority is able to manipulate a 
 great military force, fearing lest it may become a dangerous 
 instrument of tyranny in the hands of unscrupulous politicians, 
 and seeing in it a serious menace to liberty. Such Federal 
 Army as exists cannot either strongly back up any govern 
 ment or cause anxiety to any American elector. It consists of 
 25,000 men, who are employed mainly on the Indian Reserves, 
 sometimes to protect them against the illegal invasions of 
 settlers, as at Oklahoma ; sometimes to put down risings of the 
 Redskins, as in the year 1891. The Secretary of War showed 
 me a large map in his room, which indicated the distribution 
 of the forces throughout the States. Not a single squadron of 
 cavalry was stationed in the East ; only a few handfuls of 
 infantry here and there along the Atlantic coast. Of course, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 383 
 
 recruiting is voluntary. Any vacancies are advertised just as 
 they are in business. Witness this bill I came across in the 
 Post Office at Cincinnati : 
 
 U. S. ARMY 
 
 RECRUITING SERVICE. 
 
 Wanted for the U. S. Army, able-bodied men of good character, be 
 tween the age of twenty-one and thirty-five. 
 
 Then followed the size and weight necessary, the advantages 
 offered, etc. It was signed " Captain James M. Roper, Eighth 
 Cavalry. Apply at 2 19 West Fourth Street, Cincinnati, Ohio." 
 
 Some may argue that it is dangerous for so large a country 
 to be contented with so small an army, which, although it may 
 do for internal affairs, is not strong enough to oppose the 
 attack of an enemy. The United States are not absolutely 
 shielded from war, for they have neighbors who do not always 
 agree with them, as recent discussions with Great Britain about 
 the Behring Sea Fisheries show. But people have confidence 
 in their own energy, and know that they can quickly organize 
 themselves in an emergency, as was proved during the Civil 
 War. Then they are not alone in thinking themselves formi 
 dable opponents. Just consider how Italy had to moderate 
 its demands in the New Orleans lynching case, after having 
 crowed loudly enough at the beginning. Do you imagine it 
 would have done the same in the case of Guatemala or the 
 Argentine Republic ? The day after the lynching some Italian 
 men-of-war would have been floating in their waters, and a 
 rupture would have been made to bring about a more emphatic 
 reparation. They dared not play this game with Uncle Sam, 
 and with reason, for his rage is terrible. Though he employs 
 all his active forces in peaceful occupations, it does not follow 
 that he does not know how to effectively turn them against 
 anybody who may trouble him, should the occasion arise. 
 
 Besides the regular army, there are State militias, intended 
 to keep a certain knowledge of military affairs among the 
 citizens. They are organized in a more or less serious way, 
 without being controlled by the Federal Government in the 
 slightest degree. They furnish the pretext for the great num 
 ber of titles of colonels and generals, so numerous in America. 
 
384 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 I went to South Farmingham, near Boston, to see the annual 
 exercises of the Massachusetts militia, said to be one of the 
 best organized corps. About 2,000 men were .encamped for a 
 dozen days on a vast plain belonging to the State. The eye 
 of one of our generals would not have been favorably impressed. 
 The officers were not very trimly dressed and rode clumsily 
 on badly-groomed horses, grotesquely harnessed with yellow 
 leather straps badly cared for. The movements lacked unison 
 and precision. I noticed one small squad of cavalry which was 
 being taught sabre drill, of which it had much need, for at each 
 command every horseman described the most unexpected 
 curves with his arm, and had the men not been separated by 
 good distances, they would have hacked each other to pieces. 
 The infantry executed the various movements without regu 
 larity or speed, it was impossible to say that they marched as 
 one man, for each man seemed to go from one place to another, 
 as if he were alone. 
 
 On the other hand, if one talked to a soldier standing beside 
 his tent-door he seemed intelligent and zealous. I asked one 
 to show me his gun. He explained its mechanism and ad 
 vantages, and told what wonderful scores could be made at 
 shooting-ranges, and that the Americans were the best shots 
 in the world as usual. On asking for particulars I learned that 
 twenty-four men chosen from the Massachusetts militia went 
 to a shooting-match in England and brought back the prize. 
 There is thus some truth in the young militiaman s exaggeration. 
 
 I met young women going about the camp who had come to 
 see husband, sweetheart or brother. Not a soldier indulged 
 in the least coarseness, for Americans, and not troops, were 
 encamped there. While the drilling is inferior and there is a lack 
 of unity, the individual man is superior to the trooper we know 
 in France. He is treated as a man. During my two hours 
 stay in the camp I never heard any oath or coarse expression. 
 The officers commanded without getting into a rage. I men 
 tioned this to an American who was with me, and he replied 
 that if it were otherwise, the camp would be deserted ; that 
 young men came to be drilled and not to be sworn at. They 
 are volunteers with a due sense of dignity, who would quickly 
 take the road home if they were not respected. The men will 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 385 
 
 not stand violent officers, and officers will have nothing to do 
 with insubordinate soldiers. If any such come they are packed 
 off at once. I noticed a small log-hut at the camp-gate, which 
 served as a police-station, and had room for four prisoners, 
 although there were 2,000 men. Two cells were occupied by 
 civilians who had broken the peace in the camp, and whom the 
 military authorities, masters in their own sphere, as becomes 
 an American authority, had put under lock and key. 
 
 Such things reconciled me to the Massachusetts militia. 
 Here, as everywhere else in the States, I saw that each organ 
 ization, each individual, remained as independent as possible, 
 and that public powers have but a restricted and special action, 
 and are left with very little to do. It doubtless injures those 
 effects of united action to which we are accustomed, and we 
 are apt to think that nothing but chaos can come out of such 
 liberty. Yet individual efforts are more energetic, and when 
 directed by the spontaneous desire of every will towards one 
 end their power is incalculable, and it is this that makes 
 America so formidable. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE INTELLECTUAL LIFE OF THE UNITED STATES. THE 
 EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG. THE LIBERAL PROFES 
 SIONS. NEWSPAPERS AND REVIEWS. AMERICAN AU 
 THORS. THE TASTE FOR ART. 
 
 The impression which remains after our rapid examination 
 of the various branches of American activity is that mental 
 labors must be a good deal neglected among a nation so eager 
 in its pursuit of material advantages. We do not expect to 
 find much culture among all these ranchmen, husbandmen and 
 traders, and, in fact, hardly any exists. Except at Boston, 
 where a society, old in settlement and wealth, prides itself 
 upon its cultured refinement, few people are to be found wholly 
 devoted to science, art or literature. 
 
 But this is not the same assaying that all intellectual activity 
 is banished from the United States. In the first place, com 
 merce and banking, together with business in general, stand in 
 need of mental design even more than of material efforts. It 
 is not the ablest-bodied, but the most acute, who succeed. 
 Further, a certain amount of knowledge is extremely useful, 
 if not indispensable, to the man of business, so soon as he 
 attains a certain level. Lastly, the industrial applications of 
 science are so numerous at the present day as to make the 
 sciences the true handmaids of labor. 
 
 Thus, a considerable impetus has been given to public in 
 struction by the Americans, who are extremely desirous at 
 once of advancing the whole Nation on the. line of progress, 
 and of giving themselves the best possible arms to be used in 
 the struggle for existence. 
 
388 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 I. THE EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG. 
 
 Their attention has been specially concentrated upon the 
 primary schools, and the explanation is obvious, for their de 
 sign is in effect to provide everyone with a certain quantity of 
 learning, sufficient to put him in a position to develop himself 
 afterwards in accordance with his circumstances. The ques 
 tion is not one of forming specialists, but of providing that no 
 man of ability shall be hindered in his later career by lack 
 of primary instruction ; this, above all, is the guiding idea un 
 derlying the study programme. 
 
 These programmes vary in the public schools of each State, 
 and similarly in the other schools, but the basis is everywhere 
 the same ; reading, writing, drawing, arithmetic, geography and 
 American history are always taught, with the addition of very 
 numerous object-lessons. In some towns, where the German 
 element is strong, German is added as a compulsory modern 
 language ; elsewhere other additions are made, such as English 
 history or elementary physics. 
 
 There is no overpressure in these primary schools. In gen 
 eral the classes only take up seven or eight months of the year, 
 and attendance is not usually compulsory for more than three. 
 In this way legal constraint robs no father of a child useful to him 
 on the farm ; there is no farmer who cannot spare the help of 
 his sons and daughters during three months of the year, for 
 the duration of the dead season is never less than this. Thus 
 the labor of the land is not fettered, as often happens in Eu 
 rope, and most of all in France, by an abuse of the educational 
 system. 
 
 Besides this, the public primary schools are in the hands of the 
 parents. These appoint a committee which choose the masters 
 and mistresses ; no general regulation could be so effectually a 
 safeguard against scholastic tyranny. And this means also 
 helps to keep the school in its normal accessory or auxiliary 
 function. Everyone agrees in recognizing the usefulness of 
 this auxiliary; but no one dreams of allowing it to assume an 
 attitude of invasion. 
 
 When a boy succeeds well in one of our French schools, we 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 389 
 
 immediately think of exploiting the memory or quick intelli 
 gence which he may possess, in order to make him pass ex 
 aminations, and so to obtain one of the numerous public offices 
 thrown open to competition by the French State. His intel 
 lectual ability suffices in itself to give him a means of exis 
 tence, without his having to employ it in pursuit of a prac 
 tical object. In the United States it is not so, but the pupil of 
 recognized ability is merely prepared by the school to set it to 
 work himself later on. There is not, as with us, a great number 
 of posts obtained by examination, and there is a great number 
 of aspirants for these posts. All situations are gained inde 
 pendently. The boy knows, in consequence, that if he develops 
 certain of his faculties at school he will have to find employ 
 ment for them in life, otherwise these developed faculties will 
 be of no service to him. 
 
 Thus, instruction is given by master and received by pupil 
 in the healthy view that it is a useful instrument put in the 
 hands of industrious youth, with which to do productive work, 
 not a mystic talisman designed to open the portal of a ready- 
 made career, for there are no ready-made careers in America, 
 and so instruction there is a means and not an end. In con 
 sequence of this it produces no over-education, for nobody ex 
 pects his learning to be a means of livelihood, but all hasten 
 into useful occupations. Some aid themselves by what they 
 have learnt at school to climb to independence, while others 
 put less confidence in the preparation they have been given. 
 
 By the side of the ordinary primary schools are the 
 high schools, a kind of higher primary school, attended by 
 large numbers of boys and girls, especially in towns. Here 
 the programmes are fuller, but always conceived in a practical 
 spirit. In place of giving their pupils lessons in elementary 
 subjects, these high schools give these lessons in more ad 
 vanced subjects, such as natural history, chemistry, physics ; 
 add to these a little history and literature, and you will have a 
 fairly full idea of the studies pursued there. 
 
 Such is the system of primary instruction. If you com 
 pare two average pupils of the American and French primary 
 schools, you will find the American pupil the superior, espe 
 cially in the rural districts. He knows very much the same 
 
390 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 things, but knows them better than the French boy. Is this 
 an admission that the educational methods are remarkable in 
 the United States? I doubt it ; on the contrary, instruction is 
 very often given by chance teachers who have no method ; but 
 the material of the class is more promising. The children of 
 a settler in the Far West have opener minds than a little 
 French peasant ; they are wider awake. The education they get 
 and the examples they see around them give them far more 
 readiness ; so it is not surprising that they generally make the 
 best pupils. Further, the life for which they are destined will 
 give them many opportunities for utilizing the knowledge they 
 have acquired at school ; so that instead of forgeting it, they 
 will be led to develop it and will profit by it more. My per 
 sonal experience of French rural districts has put me in a posi 
 tion to declare that young men who have covered pages with 
 magnificent writing at the primary school of their village are 
 found incapable of signing their names when conscription calls 
 them at twenty-one ; accustomed to handle the spade or hold 
 the plow, their fingers have forgotten how to guide the 
 pen. Here there are no peasants, properly speaking ; the 
 settler writes to his family, reads the papers, corresponds with 
 his tradesman, keeps books after a fashion. He runs no risk of 
 losing the benefit of his education. 
 
 If fortune smiles on him, if he ventures upon undertakings 
 of any size, he will thus be able to increase his knowledge in 
 proportion as it is useful to him. For instance, he may take 
 lessons in book-keeping and short-hand in one of the innumer 
 able business colleges where such subjects are taught ; he will 
 be able to attend the courses of an evening school ; and we have 
 already seen that there are many such institutions at the 
 service of the United States public. Many people make use 
 of them in their upward journey, " to improve themselves," as 
 the typical phrase has it. I know a St. Louis miller, now rich, 
 whose modest beginning was not based on a very large amount 
 of education. One day, as I was visiting the Mercantile 
 Library with him, he said to me : " Look there, that was where 
 I learnt nearly all I know. When I was twenty-five, I had an 
 iron constitution ; my business was looking up, and I felt my 
 ignorance ; so after the day s work was over, I used to come 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 39! 
 
 and sit down at one of these tables and read." He had 
 profited by his reading, for you might have talked to him long 
 enough without suspecting that he had not been through the 
 university. A New York banker tells me that one of his clerks 
 attended a free school of arts and industries the Peter 
 Cooper Institute in his spare time. He had a strong taste 
 for drawing, but no means to enter upon the serious study of 
 art. By passing his evenings at the Peter Cooper Institute he 
 succeeded in getting lucrative employment as a draughtsman 
 on wood, and said farewell to his accounts. 
 
 It is in this way that many of the self-made men of America 
 have acquired their intellectual knowledge. Forced to throw 
 themselves into some industry as a means of livelihood at the 
 age of fourteen or fifteen years, they have been unable to com 
 plete their education on the school-benches, but have used 
 every later opportunity to supply this want. 
 
 It must be remembered that in most cases they only supply 
 it imperfectly, so that we do not find in men of a certain stand 
 ing that general mental culture which we are accustomed to 
 meet with in France in the same circumstances. While the 
 Western farmer is at a higher educational level than the French 
 artisan, the tradesman or banker remains at the same level as 
 the farmer, and only the " university men " rise above this plane. 
 
 I do not wish here to produce the impression that an im 
 mense variety of knowledge is acquired in an American Uni 
 versity, which is far from being the case. But their students 
 intellectual powers are developed. The course of study lasts 
 three or four years, and is interspersed with a great deal of 
 physical exercise, as in the English university. I have seen 
 baseball matches at Harvard which showed that the players were 
 thoroughly skilled in the game. They cultivate many others 
 with equal success, and have acquired a healthy, vigorous ap 
 pearance truly delightful to the eye. 
 
 The universities are not attended by mere boys. The age 
 of entrance is from eighteen to twenty-one years, and the de 
 gree of Bachelor of Arts is taken between twenty-one and 
 twenty-five years a degree which carries no special privileges 
 with it, but simply proclaims its possessor to be a well-bred 
 and educated gentleman. 
 
392 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Under these conditions it is not surprising that the number 
 of students is limited. At the age of eighteen or even sixteen, 
 we have already noticed on several occasions that most Ameri 
 cans are already in business ; indeed the general rule is to start 
 in business before twenty-one. Who, then, are the people who 
 form the body of the universities, and sometimes wait till 
 the age of twenty-five before entering on any profession ? 
 They fall into two distinct classes. 
 
 In the first come those who are preparing for a profession 
 which requires a certain literary culture, especially law, medi 
 cine and divinity. These need the university to supply this 
 culture; and, when their relatives are not able to support them, 
 they give private lessons, compete for scholarship, or work in 
 an office in the long vacations ; in one way or another they 
 succeed in keeping themselves In many universities, half the 
 undergraduates thus work, in order to have the means of study 
 ing, and are naturally students in right earnest. 
 
 The second class consists of young men of means, whose 
 fathers consider three or four years at the university a useful 
 equipment for life. A Chicago advocate, himself a graduate 
 of Yale and full of love for his university, told me that he sends 
 all his boys there when they are seventeen or eighteen. " What 
 ever profession they decide upon, this will be useful to them 
 later; nor am I alone in thinking thus. Many practical men 
 recognize that a university man will probably outstrip men 
 who entered business without such a preparation by the time 
 he is twenty-five or thirty. No doubt they lack experience at 
 first, but then they soon gain it, and later they usually fill the 
 most important situations. The demand for them is all the 
 keener because the supply is limited." Even in this class we 
 find few idle students, for the good reason that an American 
 father soon cuts off supplies if his son does not profit by the 
 sacrifices made for him. Mr. M., the advocate of whom I have 
 just spoken, was careful to tell me that if his sons did badly at 
 the university, he would set them to look after their own inter 
 ests by making them go to business at seventeen or eighteen. 
 Here no prejudice forces a rich man s son to spend a certain 
 number of years on college-benches. One can have confidence 
 in the power of a liberal education to form a gentleman, but 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 393 
 
 no one is ever snobbish enough to think himself disgraced by 
 not having breathed the college air for ten years. 
 
 Besides, we know from all we have seen that there are 
 many other roads to success. u University men " are the ex 
 ception in America, although their number is tending to in 
 crease. Even in the liberal professions, they do not fill all 
 situations, and they enter them in quite a different way from 
 thatto which we are used to in France. There is no use in show 
 ing their diploma at the gate, for it is open to everyone, and it 
 is their business to profit by the real advantages which a 
 superior education assures them, in order to outstrip their com 
 petitors. They are not established by law as the only advo 
 cates, doctors, clergymen, engineers, etc.; but other things 
 being equal, they are better prepared to make good advocates, 
 doctors, clergymen or engineers. 
 
 II. THE LIBERAL PROFESSIONS. 
 
 One of Mr. M. s sons decided to follow the paternal pro 
 fession. He graduated Bachelor of Arts at Yale last year, had 
 six months of European travel, returned to Chicago, and is now 
 going through his apprenticeship to the law. Forthis purpose 
 his father has placed him at a desk in his office, as an ordinary 
 clerk. (In the United States advocates are also solicitors.) 
 There he does practical office work an indispensible prepara 
 tion, according to Mr. M., for the useful attendance at law lec 
 tures and performs it in sufficient earnest, for he takes the 
 place of a clerk, and is employed and paid like one, being al 
 lowed away only two hours daily to attend the theoretical in 
 struction of the law-school ; in the evening he works at home. 
 Next year the law-school will take up nearly all his time, but 
 at the end of this period he will pass his examinations and be 
 called to the Bar. The total is two years study, one of them 
 almost entirely given up to practical work. I surprised Mr. 
 M. a good deal by telling him that our future advocates have 
 three to five years of theory before pleading the smallest case. 
 I told him that I myself had listened for three years to famous 
 professors, without ever defending the tiniest cause, and could 
 not now unravel any brief ; all of which struck him as being 
 
394 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 extremely odd. " Yet there is no Lick of folks in my position 
 in France," said I. " But, why then do you study law at all ?" 
 " My good sir, I have not the slightest idea. We look upon law 
 as a supplement to education, or at least as a means of collect 
 ing diplomas, and when we have got all these diplomas, we are 
 quite contented, and do no more." 
 
 This conversation embarrassed me a little, but it throws a 
 good deal of light upon the different views an American and a 
 Frenchman take of education. Where they see only a tool 
 which must be mastered in order to be used, we see a dignity 
 which it is an advantage to have gained, because it gives us a 
 higher intrinsic value. This is the essence of snobbishness. 
 
 Among them theory is only valued in proportion as it is an 
 aid to practice, and this idea guides all their methods and 
 shows itself in the most curious ways, in those exact sciences 
 in which some Americans have won a universal reputation. 
 No one, for instance, denies the progress which acoustics and 
 electricity owe to Edison, the inventor of the phonograph, 
 microphone, etc. In the application of science to industry 
 they are far ahead of any nation in the world. I have pointed 
 out several times how economical conditions spurred on 
 Americans to develop machinery ; but we must also recognize 
 that they are eminently capable of responding to this spur 
 ring. They are perpetually inventing, hitting upon a thousand 
 ingenious devices, and enriching the wondrous stores of 
 scientific discovery by their unremitting energy. 
 It seems as though the United States ought to contain a 
 wonderful nursery of engineers ; and yet, if you question a 
 French engineer on this subject, he usually answers that they 
 are extremely inferior to the graduates of our polytechnic 
 school. The latter invent nothing as a rule, but it would be 
 unjust to deny them the title of erudite men of science. They 
 learn an enormous mass of subjects, retain a great deal in spite 
 of all that they forget, and have a remarkable faculty of seiz 
 ing all new discoveries due to other men s initiative. 
 
 From this point of view, American engineers are really in 
 ferior to ours. They know little outside their own special 
 branches. An electrician, for instance, or a mining engineer, 
 usually understands electricity or mines. But they have each 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 395 
 
 a profound knowledge of their special branch, and, above all, 
 they are always seeking to effect improvements. They are not 
 omniscient, like the polytechnican, but they take their revenge 
 by advancing science to a much greater extent. 
 
 In short, they differ greatly from French engineers, because 
 they are produced in a quite different manner. With us, an 
 engineer is a man who has been crammed with all possible 
 knowledge up to the age of twenty-five. His skill in assimi 
 lating has been marvellously developed, and he has been 
 made an admirable assistant ; but, nourished on abstractions, 
 he usually lacks practical sense and cannot personally direct 
 a great concern ; his main use is to second the efforts of others 
 actions, he being superior in certain technical details. 
 
 The American, engineer on the other hand, is a young man who 
 has been trained from youth in workshops, having a hand in 
 their practical direction, and knowing just as much science 
 as is needful to understand the action and be thoroughly 
 acquainted with the construction of the machines under his 
 charge. As he has no diploma which will insure him a situa 
 tion, he is forced to keep continually abreast of all new inven 
 tions ; tor like every American, he wishes to have a business 
 of his own, and is obliged to start one in which he may make 
 his fortune. Thus, all the great engineers, like Edison and 
 Westinghouse, are industrial chiefs, inventors and creators. 
 The crown of a man s career is precisely to be his own engineer, 
 himself to put in action the outcome of his experience and 
 science. 
 
 In other words, an American does not work all his youth 
 with the idea of becoming an engineer, but he works all Jiis life to 
 become independent, and in this aim acquires, when necessary, 
 the engineer s knowledge. He does not seek to gain a dignity, 
 but to practice an industry. 
 
 Besides, if his profession of engineer does not pay, he will 
 turn to another. " Last year I was an engineer," a young 
 fellow said to me in Brooklyn ; " this year I am a journalist./ 
 In America you must always be prepared for these sudden 
 changes, and young men destined for the liberal professions 
 often take the precaution of learning some handicraft to fall 
 back on in case of necessity. They do not wish to be left 
 
396 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 without a means of gaining their bread if clients desert their 
 office or surgery ; accordingly, they learn type-setting or short 
 hand, sometimes even carpentery or smith-work. Mr. M., 
 who sends all his sons to Yale, has thus made each of them go 
 through an apprenticeship to some handicraft ; it is the best 
 assurance one can have against possible checks and disasters. 
 In this way, whatever happens there is still a considerable 
 chance of falling on one s feet. 
 
 American doctors have a certain likeness to Dr. Sangrado in 
 " Gil Bias ; " as far as possible it is well to avoid having recourse 
 to them. I have already had occasion to describe, in my chap 
 ter on small Western cities, how a young woman could in six 
 months become a doctress at Chicago, and this instance is not 
 an exception. The explanation, indeed, is readily afforded by 
 what we know already of American education and the unstable 
 nature of their professions. 
 
 In fact, medicine consists of two parts an art and a science. 
 The art is quickness of insight, decision, clearness of view, 
 based upon personal experience and observation ; individual 
 skill aided by presence of mind all qualities that may be found 
 in simple empirics. The science consists in a profound knowl 
 edge of the human organism, a reasoned study of the curative 
 properties of the numerous substances provided by nature or 
 discovered by chemists. This can only be acquired by time and 
 study, by a lengthy and serious technical education. This is 
 what the American physicians lack, nor need I say the reason : 
 it does not pay quickly enough. From this springs the high 
 reputation which French doctors have in America. Two or 
 three are. always to be found in the large centres. 
 
 On the other hand, the Americans are distinguished in certain 
 special branches of medical art. A Parisian with any self- 
 respect has an American dentist. The same is true even in the 
 Provinces; they are found in England and Germany. In fact, 
 it is here only a question of manual skill and of mechanism, 
 not of theoretical science. Further, a particular circumstance 
 has developed dental art in the United States. All American 
 jaws are rapidly destroyed by the effect of animal food and 
 iced drinks, so that it is necessary to repair and replace them 
 even more than with us ; whence the progress of this special line. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 397 
 
 Whatever branch of the liberal professions you examine in 
 America, the same dominant features are always to be found ; 
 the practitioners of it are given to practice rather than to 
 theory, more interested in their profession than in science. 
 The Americans shine but little in the abstract and speculative 
 science, of pure mathematics; in the sciences based on ob 
 servation they have a considerable place ; in the illustrative 
 applications of science, they are easily first. Their lawyers are 
 not philosophers, but men of business ; their doctors scarcely 
 rise above the level of simple empirics ; and the energy of the 
 country is almost wholly absorbed by works of immediate use 
 fulness and of a rapid profit. 
 
 What can be the character of the literary production in such 
 a society ? It is dominated by the same circumstances and 
 shows the same effects ; it is made for the use and often the 
 pleasure of its public, and thus is peculiarly obvious in the 
 periodical literature, the most highly developed of all. 
 
 III. NEWSPAPERS AVD REVIEWS. 
 
 I believe that no country in the world possesses more daily 
 papers than the United States. At first sight, you would be 
 inclined to think that the journalists were the rulers of the 
 country, but nothing is more false; they are simply the ser 
 vants and intermediaries of the public. 
 
 Certain of the American journals have a great influence. 
 The Chicago Tribune, the New York Tribune, the World, the 
 Sun, enjoy an incontestable authority ; but the journalists who 
 direct them are far from being known and appreciated by their 
 subscribers as our Paris journalists are. The reason is that the 
 Press has quite a different character from ours, which is pedan 
 tic and dogmatic ; it is not a priesthood, as our publicists are 
 sometimes fond of affirming; it is an agency of information. 
 If this is full, precise and interesting, the public care little 
 enough to know what author writes the articles. 
 
 Yon will see proofs of this if you will open a great American 
 journal and glance through it. The articles are not signed, and 
 the only name which appears is that of the publisher of the 
 journal, the person responsible for publicity, who in general 
 
398 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 does not write. Sometimes this publisher, proprietor of the 
 journal, anxious to make it boom by all possible means, organ 
 izes a vigorous system of puffing around his name, but with 
 the same commercial object as a large tradesman. He does 
 not seek to persuade his fellow-citizens that he is the bulwark 
 of the social edifice, the champion of downtrodden liberties ; 
 he tries to prove to them that his business and he are pros 
 perous, that he is anxious for the general good, that he is an 
 enlightened philanthropist, in short, that he possesses the 
 material position and moral qualities of an eminent American. 
 
 In fact, it is necessary to give this impression to the sub 
 scribers and purchasers. In order to keep ahead of their 
 demands, the paper must have a powerful reporting organi 
 zation and a considerable number of contributors ; it must, in 
 consequence, be a great concern. It is needful to show that 
 it is such a great concern ; that is why the proprietor of 
 a great journal is anxious the public should know that his 
 country seat is a marvel of elegance, that his collections are 
 precious and his generosity unlimited. For the same reason, 
 the important journals go in for enormous buildings, usually 
 flanked by a tower or crowned by a dome whose prodigious 
 elevation draws the attention of the passer-by. Like the banks 
 and the great insurance companies, they do not usually occupy 
 the whole of these buildings, but let them as separate offices to 
 men of business. They are " business buildings," but the 
 journal s name shines in vast letters on the front, or surrounds 
 the monumental entrance, so that no one can ignore it. 
 
 In reading an American paper, we begin to understand this 
 method of business. It is justified by the variety of subjects 
 treated, the abundance of news telegrams, advertisements, in 
 formation of every kind. The journal s position is not deter 
 mined by the personal merit of a writer who weaves out of his 
 head considerations upon religion and politics, but by the value 
 of the information it gives. Henceforth it is no longer possi 
 ble for a journal to be supported by a man of talent, surrounded 
 by five or six writers of any kind, who do their composing with 
 scissors, as we often see it in France. There is nothing in the 
 United States answering to \htlntransigeant of M. Rochefort, 
 the Autoritt of M. Paul de Cassagnac, or the Rcpubliquc Fran- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 399 
 
 gaise in the time of Gambetta. The French journal which 
 comes nearest to the America type is probably Le Temps, but 
 still with a profound difference. 
 
 In order to have an exact idea of the American press, it is 
 necessary to choose a newspaper which has at once a great cir 
 culation and a wide popularity, a journal which reaches the 
 masses. The New York Herald, the best known in France of 
 all American papers, does not meet these requirements well; 
 it is too cosmopolitan, too New Yorkist. You will find it in 
 the hands of all the Americans who live in Europe and of 
 many Europeans who live in America ; on the other hand, it 
 has no readers in Philadelphia, Chicago or St. Louis. The 
 Chicago Tribune is perhaps the paper of greatest authority in 
 the West, but its public is generally restricted to people of 
 education. The Philadelphia Public Ledger has not the same 
 position of weight among the best class of readers, but it goes 
 everywhere, it is read alike by masters and workmen, and so it 
 represents an excellent average type ; in addition, its circula 
 tion is considerable, so that it fulfils all the necessary condi 
 tions for an example. I take a number of it at hazard, and 
 this is what I see. 
 
 First comes the latest news local and foreign events ; out 
 of the paper s eight large pages this takes up about three. 
 They are not merely simple telegrams, for when the subject 
 requires it we find the detailed account of a European event. 
 Here, for instance, is a long column analyzing a debate in 
 the English House of Commons; a Washington article, giving 
 a summary of the sittings of the Federal Chambers ; then the 
 announcement of an important failure, with a history of the 
 business-house which has suffered, etc., etc. I turn the page, 
 and find a long report on the School for the Blind supported 
 by the State of Pennsylvania. It seems that abuses have 
 crept into this institution which is not surprising when an es 
 tablishment under public control is in question and an in 
 quiry is being carried on ; the reader is kept informed of all its 
 phases. Everywhere the same eagerness to furnish complete 
 information, without any criticism on the part of the journal, 
 is attested by the concise and unornamental style, and the 
 abundance of facts. This is documentary literature. A 
 
400 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 banquet has been given to a foreign diplomatist at the Union 
 League Club on the occasion of his departure from the United 
 States : the dining-hall is described with care, the names of 
 the guests are inscribed in full, the different speeches repro 
 duced from beginning to end. A baseball match has been 
 played, and nothing has been omitted the names of the win 
 ners, the varying fortunes of the game, the advance of some 
 well-known champion, the signs of fatigue visible in another 
 all is there. And so on for all subjects, whether it is a question 
 of the last criminal under sentence of death, the fashionable 
 actress last come from Europe, the latest millionaire, their 
 acts, words, gestures, costumes, features, health everything is 
 reported and in the fullest detail. 
 
 Besides, we are here in the land of reporting. Reporters 
 hide all the news they have from one another with the greatest 
 care, as a precious treasure ; for, in fact, people who want, 
 above all, to be kept informed of what is passing, require recent 
 and unpublished news. Thus, the fortune of a journal is based 
 on the excellent activity and success of its reporting system. 
 
 Articles written in the office have the same documentary 
 character. They are little different from news properly so 
 called. I read one of them, entitled 4< Socialism in Germany. 
 The recent attempts made by the young Emperor to get pos 
 session of this movement of opinion are simply related. As 
 to the causes of socialism, the writer does not try to discover 
 them. He is content to indicate that opinions on this point 
 differ greatly, but that the reason oftenest given and most 
 probable in his eyes is found in the crushing burden of military 
 service. Give him another likelier reason, he will readily 
 adopt it. If this strikes him particularly, it is on account of 
 the great contrast existing between the absence of conscription 
 which he is used to, and the exaggerated militaryism which 
 victorious Prussia imposes on Germany. 
 
 Other articles do not even lend themselves to the philoso 
 phic or pseudo-philosophic reflexions which this one would 
 have brought to the pen of a French journalist. Their sub 
 ject is the question of fires and organization of the fire-service, 
 or the production of coal in the mines of Pennsylvania. An 
 American reader is capable in this way of absorbing an im- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 4OI 
 
 mense quantity of facts without flinching. A French reader 
 would throw the journal away in disgust, or go to sleep in 
 fatigue after ten minutes of it. And note that I have pur 
 posely taken, as example, a popular and widely-circulated 
 paper, not one addressing itself to a special public. The read 
 ing population must be very different here from what it is in 
 France. 
 
 Indeed, it is entirely different. An average Philadelphian 
 artisan would quite willingly read the technical part of the 
 Economiste Fran^ais. With us, serious and settled artisans get 
 the length of the Petit Journal, and even that they often buy 
 for the sake of the stories. Most of them have more taste for 
 the vitriol of polemics. The reason is that the American arti 
 san (and this is specially true in Philadelphia) has the idea of 
 rising above his present condition. All around him he sees men 
 spring like himself from the humblest class, arriving at a 
 lofty position by their own energy, assisted by favorable oppor 
 tunities ; and so he is anxious to know the favorable occasions 
 which may arise for him also; with which future in view, noth 
 ing is any longer indifferent to him. Ambition to rise enlarges 
 his intellect and makes him earnest, capable of reflexion and 
 ideas. The examples which surround him give him confidence 
 in the powers of labor. When he comes home at night, the 
 day s work done and his wages earned, he seeks in the reading 
 of a newspaper that practical knowledge and useful informa 
 tion which may enable him to attain his desire. 
 
 Such workmen are to be found in France ; they certainly 
 exist, for there also many manufacturers have begun by living 
 on day-wages; but the number is too small to form a public. 
 That is why we have no paper able to furnish their intelligence 
 with the food it needs to instruct them. 
 
 I have said above that the American Press has not the dog 
 matic turn of ours ; it is somewhat curious that it should suc 
 ceed better than ours in instructing. Yet the explanation is 
 easy. It is only a most extraordinary journalist who can daily 
 renew his stock of intellectual ideas ; and even supposing that 
 he succeeds in this, these ideas put in daily circulation would 
 be accepted or rejected by his readers, without much benefit 
 to them in either case. For an idea taken ready-made from 
 
402 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 another man s brain hardly benefits the receiver ; the only real 
 fertile ideas are those drawn from a man s self, from his own 
 observation. 
 
 Now, the American Press spends its time in furnishing its 
 reader with matter for his personal observation. It tells him 
 what is invented, what is disappearing, what is growing. This 
 is infinitely simpler for the Press and infinitely more profitable 
 for the public. I admit that many people lose their way in 
 this mass of undigested news. I admit that the reading of 
 an American journal involves a certain amount of brain-work 
 to which everyone will not submit ; but, after all, to what does 
 this amount? That it is possible to read a newspaper without 
 deriving any mental profit from it? Does not that happen, 
 even in France ? 
 
 For this lower class of readers the American journal still 
 has a certain practical use, for it acts as intermediary between 
 the different classes of the public. Every number contains an 
 inconceivable list of situations vacant or wanted, of commer 
 cial, financial or agricultural announcements. We have seen 
 elsewhere how people advertise to find a boarding-house, to 
 effect exchanges, to find a partner, etc. The curious thing is 
 the enormous development of this custom. In the large eight- 
 page journals at least half the copy is furnished by advertise 
 ments. At New York, the New York Herald has several 
 offices throughout the town, where five or six clerks are con 
 tinually receiving advertisements. It is important that the 
 means of publicity should be within reach of the customer. I 
 passed one of these offices in Broadway at midnight ; people 
 were to be seen going in and out, approaching the wickets and 
 handing in their advertisements. It was busy enough for mid 
 day. 
 
 There is yet another fashion in which the newspaper serves 
 as intermediary. I have had occasion to speak of a competition 
 opened by the World on the question of the education of girls ; 
 problems of the same kind are often submitted to the public, 
 this for instance: " How to Keep Husbands Home Nights?" 
 and again questions are offered on poetical subjects. At the 
 time of the last Tammany scandal, this line was to be seen 
 twenty times repeated in the Herald : "What would you do if 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 403 
 
 you were the Mayor of New York? Our answer will be pub 
 lished in next Sunday s Herald." 
 
 You see, the public is not only charged with the interpreta 
 tion of its own account of the pieces of information supplied 
 by the newspaper ; it is also charged in part with making the 
 newspaper. 
 
 In the small Western cities, this correspondence of the sub 
 scribers is the great resource and almost the only interest of 
 the very moderate papers which appear there. The settlers 
 tell their story with an earnest simplicity, of which this is a 
 specimen, borrowed from a paper of Fargo, Dakota: " I came 
 here in July, 1871, and located on my present homestead at 
 that time. In 1872 I broke about 15 acres. Prior to that 5 
 acres had been broken, and so in the Spring of 1872 I seeded 
 20 acres, mostly to potatoes and oats ; the grasshoppers took 
 the most of the potatoes, and practically all the oats. In 1873 
 I raised a crop without any rains after seeding a fair crop. I 
 kept on breaking and seeding, and in 1887 I had about 180 
 acres of wheat, averaging 27^ bushels per acre. I was offered 
 a dollar a bushel for it before cutting. What I did not sell at 
 a dollar I sold for a dollar and ten cents. In 1879! commenced 
 opening a farm near Hunter. (Details of the crops follow.) 
 This year my crop at Hunter, on half a section, has been 8,500 
 bushels of wheat. I am quite familiar with lands in every por 
 tion of the county and valley, and will take pleasure in answer 
 ing any inquiries made. I am not much of a writer, but will 
 try and give such information as can be relied on." 
 
 Besides these letters, which are amusing from their style, but 
 essentially documentary, the newspapers of the small towns 
 confine themselves to registering a few local statistics, and to 
 echoing the local gossip. You see information like this: " H. 
 J. Brewers has gone to Omaha on Business. E. S. Zoller has 
 returned from his journey to Iowa. Charley Winship is enter 
 taining his friend, H. J. Hendrix, of Oconee, Nebraska, etc., 
 etc." Thus is the mania for news driven to the infinitely small 
 by the impossibility of having the important. A small paper 
 is not rich enough to have an organized staff of reporters; it is 
 forced to be content with the news which its solitary writer 
 picks up here and there, at the station, in the hotels, at the 
 
404 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 bank, wherever men congregate. There is even more difference 
 between the newspapers of large and small towns in the United 
 States, than between a Paris journal and that of a country 
 parish in France. The first is better, the second worse, if pos 
 sible. The American newspaper is either a great concern or 
 non-existent. 
 
 The reviews and magazines share this nature. These also 
 do not endure mediocrity ; they endure it still less perhaps 
 than the newspaper, for the reason that their public has not 
 the same limits as the latter s. At St. Louis, only a St. Louis 
 paper can be read for news, which is transmitted by telegraph 
 to the local Press ; while the papers of New York, Chicago or 
 Philadelphia bring it by railway thirty-six or forty-eight hours 
 too late. Thus every journal has a strictly limited sphere of 
 expansion, while the reviews and magazines of New York are 
 read everywhere. I have seen Harper s Magazine, Scribncr s 
 and the Century among the settlers of the West and the miners 
 of the Rocky Mountains; and the table of every important 
 club contains the North American Review. 
 
 The last mentioned is par excellence the type of the great 
 American review. It has, so to speak, no definite staff of 
 writers, but it appeals to all the competent notabilities, accor 
 ding to the class of questions which public opinion puts upon 
 the order of the day. Andrew Carneggie expounds the duties 
 of wealth, as one of the men who have been most rapidly 
 enriched in the United States within the last few years ; on 
 the same subject, the Protestant Bishop of New York gives 
 the opinion of a churchman, and the Hon. J. Phelps, the 
 representative of New Jersey and one of Mr. Elaine s lieu 
 tenants, the opinion of a stateman. As the question of unsec- 
 tarian schools specially interests the Catholics, it is treated by 
 Professor Egan, of the Notre Dame University. The question of 
 tariffs successively calls up Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Blaine, Major 
 McKinley and others less celebrated ; on that of divorce, an 
 article is published by Cardinal Gibbons, the highest represen 
 tative of the Catholic hierarchy in the United States ; and he is 
 followed by Mr. Gladstone, Bishop Potter, a Judge of the 
 Supreme Court, etc. ; Edison, Westinghouse and Thomson 
 expound the progress of electric lighting. The Irish question is 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 405 
 
 discussed by Mr. Balfour, the late Mr. Parnell, Dr. James 
 Bryce, Mr. John Morley ; the claims of labor are presented 
 by Powderly, Grand-Master of the Knights of Labor ; the 
 system of Henry George by its inventor. The Marquis of 
 Lome, a former Governor of Canada, treats the Canadian 
 question. Finally, I have the satisfaction of finding in the 
 North American Review an article by Mr. Taine on Napoleon s 
 religious ideas, which recently appeared in the Revue des Deux- 
 Mondes. The North American Review, it appears, is a tribune 
 from which men of note expound their opinions. 
 
 The magazines in general are devoted to less serious ques 
 tions. Accounts of travel, novels and stories form their chief 
 resource. Abundant and elaborate illustrations make their 
 perusal attractive, and the large amount of information which 
 they contain often gives them a real interest. Furthermore, 
 the Americans, who are indefatigable travellers and very eager 
 for facts of all kinds, form a first-rate public for this sort of 
 publication. 
 
 Besides these magazines, in which very different subjects 
 are met with, there is a swarm of more specialized ones, from 
 Good Housekeeping, designed for housewives, up to the learned 
 journals. At St. Paul a very interesting illustrated periodical, 
 the Northwest Magazine, keeps its readers abreast of the pro 
 gress being accomplished in the Northwest. Whenever a new 
 city is founded, a great mining exploitation created or a rail 
 way constructed in Montana, Washington, Dakota, Utah, 
 Oregon, etc., the Northwest Magazine immediately gives a de 
 tailed description of it, accompanied with plans, maps, photo 
 graphs and drawings. In order to perform his continual 
 investigations, the editor, Mr. E. V. Smalley, passes part of 
 his existence in an immense railway carriage, built from his 
 designs and specially adapted for himself and his family. This 
 carriage, a real house on wheels, includes several bed-rooms, a 
 dining-room, drawing-room and kitchen. A photographer and 
 one or two draughtsmen travel in it with Mr. Smalley, often 
 for six weeks at a time, stopping wherever an important novelty 
 calls for attention, moving on again as soon as they have col 
 lected the necessary documents. This certainly is a very 
 modern, very American fashion of editing a review. It cor- 
 
406 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 responds well enough to the object of the serious press of the 
 United States to give the reader material for observation in 
 the form of precise and useful knowledge. 
 
 By the side of this serious Press there is also the satirical 
 Press, represented by a few illustrated papers, usually very 
 wittily edited. Two of these, Judge and Puck, have a dis 
 tinct political coloring: Republican Judge turns the Demo 
 crats into ridicule, while Democratic Puck does as much for 
 the Republicans. Some of their caricatures are really very 
 amusing. Life and Light, also humorous, are less occupied 
 with politics and more with properly so-called American man 
 ners ; the small devices of flirtation are one of their chief 
 resources. On the other hand, there are neither risky jokes nor 
 doubtful illustrations. This indeed is an image of such a 
 society as we have described ; they do not display their vices 
 but hide them. 
 
 IV. AMERICAN AUTHORS. 
 
 It does not enter into my plan to offer a complete study of 
 American literature. I shall content myself with showing that 
 it exists, and in indicating its features, so as not to leave the im 
 pression that no work of importance has yet been produced in 
 the United States. Perhaps without this, a French reader 
 might think that the Americans are entirely given up to the 
 production of wheat or the making of locomotives, and the in 
 habitants of Boston would not forgive me for allowing my 
 silence to lend credit to such a supposition. 
 
 Certain American authors have indeed gained a reputation 
 which needs no puffing. Among their historians, four at least 
 Washington Irving, Prescott, Bancroft and Parkman are 
 known and read throughout Europe. Washington Irving is 
 the first in date of American authors whose works have gained 
 the right of citizenship in the libraries of the Old World. He 
 published lengthy works upon the discovery of the New 
 World, remarkable for the clearness of their exposition and the 
 accuracy of their facts; his travels in the Far West, at a time 
 when Indians alone inhabited there, furnish circumstantial de 
 tails of their social organism, and at the same time form a 
 charming story, full of life and color. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 407 
 
 Prescott s "Conquest of Mexico" is already a classic, and is the 
 most complete work we possess upon this interesting subject. 
 Bancroft has devoted his whole existence to a " History of the 
 United States," a conscientious work, written with a gravity 
 which is perhaps a little cold, but possessing a clear and con 
 cise style, which is admirably suited to the exposition of a great 
 history. 
 
 As to Francis Parkman, he has unravelled the origin of 
 colonization from the relations of the first travellers and mis 
 sionaries who visited Canada and the Northeast of the United 
 States. His works are of great assistance for acquiring a 
 knowledge of the indigenous populations which occupied 
 these countries before the arrival of the Europeans, especially 
 of the celebrated nation of Iroquis, the most formidable of all. 
 It is sufficiently curious to see how Parkman, a bigoted Pro 
 testant, does justice to the efforts of the Jesuits for the evan 
 gelization of the Indians. In reading him we acquire an en 
 thusiastic admiration for these heroic martyrs who, like Pere 
 Yogues, to mention only one, paid for their generous endeavor 
 with the most horrible tortures. 
 
 Further, the American is more readily impartial than sec 
 tarian, more given to observing than to dogmatizing. This 
 tendency is explained by the practical direction of his life, and 
 the active energy that he displays in it. This is very clearly 
 shown in the periodical literature of the United States, and 
 ^ensures the Americans a place of honor in historical research. 
 
 It seems that another branch of production ought also to be 
 open to them namely, that of economic and social science, 
 which is founded, like history, upon the observation of facts, 
 but observes facts present in reality and not in written docu 
 ments. And in fact their intellectual activity has a great deal 
 of play in that direction; investigations and statistics abound, 
 and in many States labor bureaus are charged with collecting 
 information upon the situation of manufactures, the life of the 
 workmen, strikes and immigration, and publish yearly volumes 
 crowded with figures. As yet, however, these considerable 
 labors have given rise to no general work. The analysis which 
 they offer of numerous and important social facts is guided by 
 no method, it is sincere but not scientific, and can result in no 
 
408 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 comparison or classification. It is to be wished that so great 
 an effort were better guided. 
 
 America has, however, produced Henry George, an economist 
 whose reputation is extremely notorious, and who cannot be 
 reproached with the lack of general views. But he proceeds 
 quite differently from the makers of statistics, for he is a 
 maker of systems. In his hands observation becomes a 
 weapon, for he is struggling for the triumph of a particular 
 idea. At present he is rallying a following round this idea, 
 and is playing the part of a party leader in the United 
 States, so that it becomes necessary to say a few words about 
 him. 
 
 Henry George is usually looked on as a Socialist, and in fact 
 he is one on certain sides of his doctrines, and by certain de 
 clarations. But the application of his system, far from protect 
 ing the weak and incapable, would quickly result in stamping 
 them out. His most celebrated work, " Progress and Poverty," 
 is dedicated " To those who, seeing vice and misery born from 
 the unequal distribution of wealth and privileges, feel the pos 
 sibility of a better state and are willing to struggle to reach it." 
 Thus he addresses himself to the discontented, especially to 
 such of them as are struck by the inequality of human condi 
 tions; in consequence, the Socialist public finds him favorably 
 disposed to listen to it. This sympathy changes to enthu 
 siasm on reading chapters like those whose subjects are given 
 here: " The Injustice of Private Property in Land," "How 
 Equal Rights to Land May be Affirmed and Assured," "The 
 Enslavement of the Laborers is the Final Result of Property 
 in Land." 
 
 Allured by these theories, many more or less disorganized 
 Irish, Germans and Poles have come to Henry George and 
 support with all their might the reform that he proposes, with 
 out seeing that it favors the enterprising and energetic at the 
 expense of the idle and incapable, the humble and mediocre. 
 What Henry George desires is in fact to replace all taxes by a 
 single one, calculated upon the selling value of the bare land. 
 For instance, a town lot will be subjected to an equal contribu 
 tion, whether it remains in the state of waste land or carries an 
 edifice of white marble. The building is the work of man, and 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 409 
 
 Henry George teaches that every man has a right to all the 
 fruits of his toil, so that every tax bearing upon these fruits is 
 unjust and should be suppressed. On the other hand, the 
 land on which it is raised belongs to all the world after him ; 
 it is the element of success furnished by nature to all her 
 children. Private individuals are only tenants, and owe rent to 
 the community of citizens. 
 
 Now, this leads directly to the expropriation of all proprie 
 tors who are not either large farmers, large manufacturers or 
 large bankers, who are readily able to pay the tax demanded 
 of them. But the artisan who owns his dwelling in a great town 
 and the settler commencing loaded with debt in a Western 
 State, will continually find themselves unable to pay it. Thus 
 the land will be constantly set up to competition among all 
 producers, and whoever weakens in the struggle will be imme 
 diately ousted. On the other hand, as Henry George pro 
 claims elsewhere, " All the charges, which now weigh upon in 
 dustry and fetter commerce, once destroyed, the production of 
 wealth would make advances hitherto unknown." 
 
 Yes, this would certainly be the result of such a reform. 
 The capable would rise faster and higher, the incapable would 
 descend faster and lower; independence would in future be the 
 lot of a very few. It is sufficiently curious to see what social 
 ism has become in the hands of Henry George ; it is no longer 
 " socialism of the tribal state," as he calls it, but American 
 socialism, still exaggerating the characters that we have noticed 
 in American society an enforced amelioration, an enforced suc 
 cess, or death. 
 
 Born in the United States, this maker of systems could not 
 sacrifice the development of wealth and the advance of activity 
 to the general good; he could not be a Socialist after the man 
 ner of the German school or of the Russian Nihilists. On the 
 other hand, the actual social condition of America could not 
 satisfy him, because, in spite of the remarkable intellectual 
 gifts that he possesses, George has never been able to attain an 
 absolutely independent position. We find him successively 
 Inspector of Lighting in San Francisco, then a clerk in the em 
 ployment of the city of New York. He is a kind of politician, 
 a social failure, who judges society ill-constructed because he 
 
410 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 has not come to the top of the ladder. That is why he attracts 
 to his following the usual discontented public, while all who 
 succeed and they are numerous in the United States remain 
 foreign to his propaganda. 
 
 Thus, Henry George does not represent a sound normal type; 
 his name will not live in economic science, which probably has 
 a great future before it in the United States. His original 
 conceptions will sink into forgetfulness, as have sunk those of 
 Saint Simon, Fourier and many others ; whilst the faithful 
 observations contained in the statistics and investigations of 
 the labor bureaus will still have their documentary value. 
 
 Evidently it is in the direction of observation that American 
 authors seem to produce their best work. Historians and 
 economists, they are also humorists, because humor is in brief 
 only witty observation, seasoned with unexpected relations. 
 Mark Twain at present holds the first place among these 
 humorists, and every speech he makes is always reproduced 
 /;/ extenso by the American papers. Here is a short fragment 
 of one of them, which may give an idea of the class ; it relates 
 to a toast : " I love the sex, I love all women, irrespective of 
 distinction, of age or color (laughter). Intelligence cannot 
 estimate what we owe to woman. She sews on our buttons, 
 mends our clothes ; she ropes us in at the church fairs, she 
 confides in us, she tells us whatever she can find out about the 
 little private affairs of the neighbors (laughter). She gives us 
 advice and plenty of it. Wherever you place a woman, she 
 is an ornament to the place which she occupies, and a treasure 
 to the world. (Here the speaker posed and looked round upon 
 his auditors inquiringly). Applause ought to come at this 
 point (great laughter). Look at Cleopatra ; look at Florence 
 Nightingale ; look at Lucretia Borgia (several voices : " No, 
 No.") Well, suppose you let Lucretia slide (laughter). Look 
 at Mother Eve (cries of " Oh ! Oh ! " and laughter). You 
 need not look at her unless you want to, but Eve was an 
 ornament, gentlemen, particularly before the fashion changed," 
 etc., etc. 
 
 With observation and humor, American dramatic authors 
 ought to produce some character comedies, but as yet there 
 are no true dramatic authors in the United States. As a rule, 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 41 I 
 
 the theatres offer French pieces adapted and spoiled, or else 
 coarse farces, in which the actors horseplay, kicks given and 
 received, and practical joking, make up for everything else 
 that is wanting. This forms a field still unworked by men of 
 talent. The dramatic art requires a public of taste and culti 
 vation, and this public does not yet exist in the United States. 
 Poetry, which can do without a public and springs up spon 
 taneously without solicitation, has, on the contrary, represen 
 tatives in the United States Longfellow, Hawthorne, Edgar 
 Allan Poe, Russell Lowell, Whittier, Bryant, O. W. Holmes, 
 and others less celebrated. Longfellow, the most famous 
 of all, is also, I believe, the most American. No one has sung 
 with a more ardent soul or a more convinced enthusiasm the 
 active and persevering energy, the irresistible " go-aheadness " 
 which characterize the race. No one either has evoked with more 
 grace or fidelity the memories of the Indian epoch, and of the 
 earliest American colonists; his two great masterpieces, " Hia 
 watha " and " Evangeline," are the proof of it. This is a truly 
 national poet. 
 
 V. THE TASTE FOR ART. 
 
 I must not end this chapter without saying a word about 
 the fine arts, and their place in the intellectual life of the 
 United States. 
 
 Two apparently contradictory opinions exist upon this sub 
 ject. Talking one day to a great Paris picture-dealer who had 
 been established in New York for some years, I ventured to 
 say that artistic sentiment was scarcely developed in America. 
 " You are wrong," he answered, " there are as many people 
 here as with us able to appreciate a good picture." On an 
 other occasion, a painter, American by birth but usually resi_ 
 dent at Paris, told me that it was " absolutely discouraging " to 
 exhibit work in the United States, for nobody there took an 
 interest in it, and an artist would succumb under the weight of 
 this indifference, and so on. 
 
 Where is the truth in all this? As a part, both the picture- 
 dealer and the painter were right, from their different points 
 of view. The dealer looks for critical experts who can decide 
 
412 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 the value of a picture ; he would find five or six of these at 
 Paris, he finds five or six at New York, and declares that it is 
 the same thing. On the other hand, the painter fastens on the 
 difference between the general ignorance of the American 
 public in art matters and the ready interest which the inquiring 
 and art-loving French public take in the sight of a good 
 picture or the hearing of a symphony or an opera ; it is ready 
 to talk of sculpture, architecture, painting or music without 
 excessive knowledge, but with a very real pleasure in them. 
 
 We find this double character in America in every branch 
 of art. There are a few real connoisseurs, but the great mass of 
 the people know nothing about it. 
 
 In the Museum of Fine Arts at Boston you will find galle 
 ries devoted to the early Italians, a collection of Dutch mas. 
 ters, another of French, all bearing witness to the judicious 
 choice of an experienced criticism. At New York, Philadelphia, 
 Baltimore and Chicago there are remarkable private galleries, 
 still in the hands of their purchasers or already handed over to 
 the public museums. I have had occasion to mention some of 
 these already. We know also how the Americans have laid 
 violent hands on the work of some of our Paris artists, such as 
 Meissonnier, not to speak of Millet s famous Angelus. Nor do 
 they only buy the pictures of renowned artist, but they also 
 aid those who are beginning, and willingly play the part of 
 Maecenas to such of their young compatriots as are anxious to 
 perfect their talent by the study of the great masters. A 
 certain Mr. Chanler is at present engaged, with the help of 
 private subscriptions, in founding a school of art at Paris, similar 
 to our school at Rome, which seems a clear indication of an 
 enlightened care for the fine arts. 
 
 In respect to music, you may occasionally encounter a well- 
 conducted orchestra in the United States. I have heard the 
 Boston Symphony Orchestra interpret Wagner, Saint-Saens 
 and Mendelssohn in a very pleasing manner. So that artistic 
 enjoyment is not altogether impossible in the land of Uncle 
 Sam. 
 
 Yet it is but a small public who has a taste for such enjoy 
 ments. The audience at a concert usually remains cold ; 
 there is no establishment of sympathy between it and the 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 413 
 
 performers. If it seems to warm for a moment, the cause is 
 some powerful bit in which the stentorian brasses and thunder 
 ing drums join with the deep-toned organ to produce an im 
 pression of terror. This tumult of sound awakens and touches 
 the audience ; it thinks that wonderful ! Criticism is written 
 from the same point of view. I extract the following an 
 nouncement from a St. Paul paper, which is endeavoring to 
 sing the praises of the Boston Symphony Orchestra : " Next 
 Tuesday the Boston Symphony Orchestra will give a concert 
 at Saint Paul. Not since Thomas was here has the city had 
 an opportunity to hear a large, well-trained body of artists ; 
 but when one considers that the largest number Thomas ever 
 travelled with was forty-five, while the Boston Symphony Or 
 chestra numbers seventy, some idea of the grandeur of the 
 effects produced by the latter can be obtained." 
 
 Painting is appreciated in much the same way. In the Saint 
 Nicholas Hotel at Cincinnati a portrait by Devouge of Pauline 
 Bonaparte occupies the place of honor and advertisement in 
 the writing-room. Artistic and historical notices of this pic 
 ture are freely distributed to the guests; one of them gives 
 me this precious piece of information : " It appears from this 
 portrait that Pauline Bonaparte weighed 150 pounds, or a 
 little more." How obvious the ranchman s experienced eye is 
 here ! This is criticism by scale and yard-measure a grocer s 
 criticism : the model weighs so much, the musicians are so 
 many ; now form your judgment of picture and orchestra ! 
 
 A still safer criterion for the ordinary American is the price 
 of a work of art. Most of them look no further. A wealthy 
 American, visiting Paris, ordered a portrait of one of our best 
 known painters. When the work was finished, the artist re 
 ceived from his model a check for $10,000. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said ; " my price is only half that." 
 
 " You will oblige me," said the American," by accepting 
 $IO,OOO, for I do not wish to tell an untruth, and if I go home 
 with a picture that only cost $5,000, all my friends will laugh 
 at me." 
 
 With such views, a work of art very easily sinks to the level 
 of advertisement; that is how we find high-priced pictures in 
 the saloons and bars of the United States, with a statement of 
 
414 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 their price annexed. Thus the graceful nymphs of Bou- 
 guereau are exposed in the Hoffman House bar at New York, 
 where Yankees examine them while engaged in the silent ab 
 sorption of their cocktails. A true artist would prefer to see 
 them elsewhere than in the atmosphere of a bar loaded with 
 tobacco and alcohol; but the majority of Americans do not 
 experience this sentiment. They think that it is fine to be able 
 to pay 15,000 for two square yards of painted canvas, which 
 is the precise effect sought by the owner of the bar. 
 
 To sum up, the fine arts are as a rule little appreciated in the 
 United States ; and the taste for painting, which has been 
 showing itself of late years especially, tends to assume the 
 character of a costly luxury. There is nothing in this surpris 
 ing to any one acquanted with the Yankee s life of overstrain. 
 Absorbed by constant preoccupations of a material nature, he 
 cannot have that free and untroubled mind which is needed by 
 a seeker after the beautiful. Leisure is wanting, nor has his 
 early education prepared him to appreciate the delicate refine 
 ments of art. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS CONDITION. ARE AMERICANS RELIGIOUS? 
 -THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 I. ARE AMERICANS RELIGIOUS. 
 
 Everybody knows that there is an extraordinary number of 
 sects in the United States. Without counting Mormons, 
 Shakers and other bodies whose peculiarities have given them 
 a world-wide reputation, an innumerable number of independent 
 churches exist, all founded on a free interpretation of the 
 Bible ; some adding certain special practices to this common 
 basis, but most binding their members together by bonds of 
 reason rather than by religious links. In fact, many of them 
 have much more the character of a philosophic school than a 
 church. 
 
 In spite of that the majority of Americans find the discipline 
 and creeds of these purely intellectual religions still too narrow, 
 and are not members of any church, either from independence 
 or indifference. Nine times out of ten an American speaking 
 of religious topics says, with great simplicity. " I belong to 
 no church." Even the majority of people who attend service 
 regularly are not, properly speaking, members of the church, 
 but simply hearers of the minister who preaches there. For 
 instance, Bostonians go to hear Phillip Brooks in Trinity 
 Church, because Phillip Brooks is an eloquent orator ; and Brook 
 lyn people used to crowd to listen to Henry Ward Beecher. 
 A St. Paul minister, feeling his popularity increasing, had a 
 huge church built, which he called the People s Church. He 
 preaches in it on certain days, and at other times the church is 
 let for a concert or a lecture. It is not a sacred edifice, but a 
 public hall. Protestant sermons at any rate are more moral 
 discourses addressed to everybody than religious guidance 
 
416 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 adapted to the adherents of a special sect. Hence a Congre- 
 gationalist can follow the sermons of Presbyterian and Episco 
 palian ministers with the greatest ease. 
 
 This also explains the special features of Protestant churches, 
 which often resemble clubs. Libraries, lecture and reception 
 rooms are often found alongside the church where prayer and 
 praise are wont to be made. Charity fetes and social meetings 
 of all kinds are organized, at which the tea cup plays an im 
 portant part; in fact, audiences are attracted by every possible 
 means. The church itself is a large well-heated and well-ven 
 tilated apartment, furnished with comfortable chairs, standing 
 on a carpet-covered floor; in short a perfectly fitted-up lecture 
 room. I remember one Methodist chapel in Baltimore in par 
 ticular. It had been built quite recently, and every detail was 
 of the newest and most perfect sort. 
 
 Four electric bell buttons were fixed to one of the arms of the 
 minister s seat, which enabled him to give certain orders to in 
 crease or diminish the amount of heat, to regulate the aeration 
 of the hall, to give alarm in case of fire, etc. Every listener 
 was seated on a chair, something like the orchestra stalls of a 
 theatre, under which some wire was fitted up for holding his 
 hat. There was a rack for his book and another for coat and 
 umbrella, all being arranged as conveniently as possible. A 
 zealous Methodist solicited my admiration of these improve 
 ments and ingenious contrivances, without missing a single 
 one. When we had seen everything, I felt very tempted to 
 ask him: "And what do you make of God Almighty here?" 
 After leaving such a place the idea arises that it would be 
 pleasant enough to come and sit for an hour on Sunday, when 
 the north wind was blowing outside or when a burning sun 
 made walking unbearable ; but no religious impression could 
 be carried away. 
 
 The bulk of Americans are usually indifferent, and church 
 goers show a spirit of curiosity rather than a profound faith. 
 These are the first impressions, and one exclaims, " Bah ! these 
 Americans are all so busy dollar-hunting that they have not 
 time to concern themselves with their souls, because it won t 
 pay !" 
 
 But we cannot live long in the States without finding this 
 premature judgment upset by many undeniable facts. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 417 
 
 First of all, an American never considers religion childish ; he 
 regards it as a serious and respectable manifestation of a noble 
 sentiment, and even though he be attached to no sect, he 
 will be found thinking a good deal about the future life. A 
 Catholic priest said to me one day : "I rarely go on a journey of 
 any length without one of my travelling companions recogniz 
 ing my profession by my dress and coming over beside me to 
 discuss religion." Others go still further and give their money 
 to institutions connected with churches without benefiting 
 themselves thereby. Thus it happens that Protestants often 
 help to a considerable extent the building of Catholic churches 
 and schools. In their eyes religion is a public service which 
 overweighs any sectarian differences. 
 
 Everybody seems to have a certain minimum of Christian 
 faith. For instance, nobody takes offense at any public ser 
 vices to Divine Providence in the name of the American people 
 in specially solemn circumstances. I read this inscription in 
 the office of the Speaker of the Town Council in the City 
 Chambers at St. Paul : " Sicut patribus, sit Deus nobis" 
 Lastly, the Bible is looked on as a book of Divine origin by 
 most people. If the most fervent Protestants permit everyone 
 to interpret it for himself, its supernatural origin is allowed and 
 considered beyond dispute, even by people who are indifferent. 
 
 I was particularly struck by one incident which revealed 
 how widespread this feeling is in America, and accordingly I 
 shall describe it. 
 
 My readers have already heard of Girard College, Philadel 
 phia, which I once visited. When I was there I was asked if I 
 were a clergyman, which so astonished me that I had the ques 
 tion repeated. After my denial I was admitted, and when I 
 told the incident to the director, he said : " These are the orders, 
 for Girard left instructions in his will that no minister of any 
 religion was ever to cross the threshold of the college." "Then, 
 what is the meaning of that chapel I see ? " " It is for religious 
 services. Prayers are said there morning and evening, and two 
 lectures explaining the Bible are delivered on Sundays." "And 
 do you imagine the shade of Girard rejoices in these Bible 
 readings?" "Oh, you know, the Bible is quite unsectarian." 
 So the Managing Board of Trustees have not considered these 
 
41 8 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Bible explanations any violation of the founder s intentions, 
 despite the proofs of anti-religious fanaticism he gave in his 
 will. It is truly an American way of interpreting them. In 
 fact, Girard was an Eighteenth Century Frenchman, and wished 
 to proscribe every religious idea from his educational system ; 
 but the Americans have interpreted his intentions by their own. 
 To those who know their absolute respect for the terms of a 
 founder s will, this proves how much the Holy Scriptures are 
 considered by them the common inheritance of all men, no 
 matter what their religion or unreligion may be. Americans 
 who fight against the belief of a church do not deny revelation, 
 and in this sense are more religious than we. 
 
 They are also more concerned about certain observances, at 
 least one in particular that of resting on the seventh day. It 
 is not because of its good effects on workers that it is now so 
 generally kept, but it is looked on as a religious principle. 
 Any reaction against Sunday rest is due to certain sects having 
 oppressively and somewhat ridiculously exaggerated it. My 
 travelling companion was sharply admonished by a policeman 
 for setting up his camera in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, one Sun 
 day. Taking photographs is forbidden on the Lord s Day, 
 most museums are shut, etc., etc. In any case such exagger 
 ations testify to the religious nature of their respect for Sun 
 day, because photographing and walking through museums are 
 not forbidden to prevent any dangerous overworking of pro 
 ductive effort. 
 
 The religious sentiment of the mass of Americans may be 
 summarized as follows: Everyone adopts a religion for his own 
 requirements, based on a universally admitted belief in Reve 
 lation. Those who do not concern themselves about a future 
 life are grouped among the largest class the indifferents. 
 Others make a little creed of their own and believe in it with 
 all that ardor which Americans put into everything, become 
 fanatics, and preach at street corners to convert their erring 
 brethern. I came across several such well-meaning apostles 
 during my travels. Their discourses always interested me, but 
 I learned more from the seriousness and imperturbability of 
 their listeners than from the preaching itself. 
 
 The paraphernalia of the Salvation Army, which we all 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 419 
 
 know, is even more burlesque in America ; yet nobody laughs 
 at it. I came across a fairly compact crowd one evening in 
 Washington, and saw fifteen or twenty people in strange gar 
 ments in the middle of it. They were shouting some chorus, 
 the only words of which I could hear were : " Oh, it is so won 
 derful ! so wonderful ! so wonderful ! " Indeed it was wonder 
 ful to see young women, men of all ages, negroes, yelling 
 this Salvation Army hymn in chorus under an electric-light 
 lamp ; but soon they showed me something still more wonder 
 ful. When the song was finished, a girl about twenty, dressed 
 in black, wearing a small oil-cloth hat, stepped into the middle 
 of the group and said : " My dear brethern, a man cannot be 
 moral, keep his marriage sacred or preserve his virgin purity 
 if he is not sober, if he does not come out from among the 
 drunkards and the licentious. To do this he must give himself 
 to God. Perhaps you think it strange, my dear brethern, that 
 a young girl of my age should speak to you about such sub 
 jects, but God commanded me to do so." She said all this in a 
 loud, piercing voice, but as the evening grew colder she was at 
 last forced to stop the torrent of her eloquence. 
 
 After she had ended, a great hulk of a man, with a most 
 powerful voice, shouted that we would all be damned if we did 
 not get converted that very instant. Next, a young, well- 
 dressed convert spoke very timidly, and an old man, in fairly 
 bad toggery, declared that he regretted every day that he was 
 so old before he first saw the light. Then other girls lacerated 
 our ears with their desperate appeals to grace. A negro, 
 somewhat lacking inspiration, played on the key-bugle to ac 
 company the refrain he sang wherever words failed him, while 
 the young women frantically beat their tamborines to add to 
 the general effect and incite the audience to repentance. 
 
 I could hardly keep back a fit of wild laughter, especially 
 when a second negro sang to us twanging his banjo all the 
 time of his interview with God and the conversion that occur 
 red. However, the rest of the audience, gathered from chance 
 passers-by, listened seriously without any interruption or jest, 
 except, perhaps, a few smiles. No policeman seemed to 
 trouble himself about this open-air meeting, knowing before 
 hand that there would be no disturbance. The most curious 
 
420 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 thing is that the Salvation Army has only sixty members in 
 Washington, as one of them told me himself ; but none of them 
 is either astonished or hindered by the smallness of their num 
 bers. That does not affect the strength of their belief, and 
 those who do not share in it find it quite natural and legiti 
 mate that Salvationists should seem to inspire it by every 
 known means of proselytism. This is only a new manifestation 
 very exceptional and odd, if you will of the American national 
 tendency. Anyone with an idea or desire pushes it as far as 
 possible, without troubling himself as to his neighbor s opinion. 
 Everyone acts in this way, and toleration is an immediate 
 consequence. 
 
 But it is not necessary for an American man or woman to 
 be a member of a compact body, like the Salvation Army, 
 before beginning a religious propaganda. I met a young 
 Pennsylvania!! girl at the Russian Menonite minister s 1 who 
 used to travel on business, as she called it, and lose no 
 opportunity of converting her fellow-beings. Half a dozen of 
 us, Americans, Germans and French, were seated round the 
 hospitable table of Father V. and under the pretext of 
 serving us with a salad of sour plums and eggs, this young 
 girl made us all undergo a cross-examination about our reli. 
 gion. When I frankly confessed I was a Catholic she did not 
 try to convert me ; but an American journalist who was with 
 me, having told her that he did no t belong to any church, was 
 vigorously rebuked by her, despite all laws of hospitality. In 
 my turn I became curious to find out the religious belief of 
 this visionary, whose eyes were feverish, and whose consuming 
 desire was to use every opportunity of making converts. She 
 told me she was born among the Brethren in Christ, but that 
 the example of the Menonites had induced her to join that 
 body, and that Father V. was teaching her at present. " How 
 did you come to know the Menonites ? " " Oh I came to 
 Kansas on my business, which is to bring up four children. I 
 do not know enough to keep school, but my school is every 
 where in the kitchen, in the fields, wherever I can do any 
 good. When I was at Hillsboro I heard, people talking about 
 the Menonites, and the Lord inspired me to embrace their re- 
 
 i See Chapter V. 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 421 
 
 ligion." I asked if she would permit me to take her photo 
 graph, but she replied, " The Lord did not raise my spirit to 
 do so." Evidently, all the religious enthusiasts in the States 
 do not play the tambourine and sing in the Salvation Army ; 
 for some are able to reach that condition of soul without any 
 artificial excitation. 
 
 This is a kind of reaction against the invasions of business 
 and material preoccupations, and may be found everywhere 
 to a slight degree, in some form or another. I listened to one of 
 the open-air preachers in a public garden one Sunday evening 
 in Boston. One of them worked himself into a fury of despair 
 at the sight of the general hardness of heart of his brethern in 
 Christ, true tears ran down his cheeks, and his figure was 
 contorted with emotion. I imagined every minute that he 
 would fall off the chair on which he stood in order to make 
 himself heard and which he clutched frantically. Quite another 
 kind of apostle was speaking close by. He was a grey-haired 
 old gentleman, with the steady and calm appearance of an 
 honest bourgeois who had got on well ; he wore a black frock- 
 coat and a black velvet skull-cap, and stood with his Bible in 
 his hand explaining the parable of the Prodigal Son. " I also 
 have known a prodigal son," he said, " who was in a large 
 business concern, but his bad conduct brought him to utter 
 destitution. His old companions turned their backs on him 
 when they met him in the street, and although he was without 
 money, without clothes, without food a terrible thing to think 
 of, my friends ! he could not find anyone to say to him : 
 Here is a check for $5, or even, Come and dine with me 
 for a man loses his friends when his money is gone. One day 
 I came across him seeking for some wretched food in a dust- 
 heap, just as the Prodigal Son would fain have eaten of the 
 husks along with the swine. I put my arm in his and brought 
 him home with me ; I made him sit down in the cosiest easy- 
 chair, and asked him to dine with me ; after that we prayed 
 together to God, whose grace touched him. He began to work 
 again, and has since become a prominent citizen," etc. etc. 
 This is a very naive expression of the theory of virtue rewarded 
 and vice punished, which, however, is very generally held as 
 is easily proved. Each one acts himself on his own responsi- 
 
422 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 bility, and each receives the full price of his labor; therefore, 
 energy based on rectitude is a condition of success which pays 
 better than intrigue. 
 
 It is interesting to notice the place occupied by the Catholic 
 Church, with its precise dogmas and positive discipline, among 
 such a variety of Protestant sects, in the midst of a people 
 where each one seems to make his own religion just as he makes 
 a situation for himself. 
 
 II. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Catholics are not nearly so numerous in America as all the 
 Protestants combined, but there are many more of them than 
 of any single Protestant sect. The number of Catholics in the 
 States is estimated at 10,000,000 souls, about a seventh of the 
 population, but they are very unequally distributed over the 
 Union. 
 
 In the great manufacturing cities of the East the Catholics 
 are increasing every day, owing to the number of Irish, South 
 ern Germans, and also French-Canadians. Certain Catholic 
 writers take hold of this fact and sing this song of triumph : 
 " Just look at Boston, the fortress of Puritanism : the majority 
 of its inhabitants will soon be Catholic ! So imagine what the 
 rest of the country is ! " 
 
 In Western States, Scandinavians, Anglo-Saxon and Eastern 
 American immigrants bring their Protestantism with them, and 
 the adversaries of Catholicism are not slow to point out that 
 this new America seems incapable of being affected by Romish 
 influences. Unfortunately, it is only too true that there are 
 Catholic apostacies as well as Catholic conversions. These 
 facts lead to conclusions exactly opposed to those given above. 
 
 It is, therefore, very difficult to form an exact idea of the 
 true position of the Catholic Church in the United States 
 without personal inquiry. I have made such an investigation 
 with all the interest of a believer and the sincerity of an ob 
 server, and have tried to give an accurate account of the state 
 of affairs. Among the complex phenomena I have come across, 
 some have seemed to me to be serious obstacles to the spread 
 of Catholicism ; some, on the other hand, show how it is sup- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 423 
 
 ported by the genius of the race, and others clearly indicate 
 that no matter what its present power in the United States 
 may be, the Catholic Church enjoys a freedom of action such 
 as she has never had before in any society. These three sets 
 of phenomena are three important elements of information ; 
 although the future of Catholicism in America cannot be ex 
 actly foreseen, yet the route it is taking is lit up by knowing 
 these difficulties and advantages which it encounters. My 
 end has been to understand these. 
 
 Let us first examine the special obstacles which impede the 
 progress of Catholicism in the United States. What is called 
 " Romanism " is probably the greatest. This is not a question 
 of the sovereignty of the Roman Pope in dogma, but a matter 
 of temporal power. Catholicism, having reigned until now 
 principally in European countries with strong centralized 
 governments, is connected in many minds with these systems 
 of government which they spurn. They think of it as a poli 
 tical as well as a religious doctrine, and readily imagine that 
 an American Catholic dreams of an " imperialism " contrary to 
 the spirit of the institutions of his country. The most bi 
 goted Protestants do all they can to keep up this confusion, and 
 the most intelligent Catholics work their hardest to dispel it ; 
 the higher clergy, especially, affirming their personal devotion 
 to the Constitution of the United States on every possible 
 occasion, as well as the universal nature of the Catholic Church, 
 which prevents it allying itself closely with any particular tem 
 poral power. This prejudice has still great power. 
 
 The ordinary members of the Catholic Church in America 
 are another barrier to its expansion. The Irish do not usually 
 fill positions most highly esteemed in the United States, for 
 reasons I have already given. They have less of that benefi 
 cent self-help than native Americans and Scandinavian and 
 Anglo-Saxon immigrants, for they have had no training in 
 it in their old country. They do not mount so high ; then, do 
 not succeed so well, and oftener remain in dependent situa 
 tions. So the body of Catholics does not represent a group of 
 picked citizens, but just the reverse. This gives rise to an im 
 pression that the Catholic religion weighs down the will by ac 
 customing the spirit to bear the burden of its doctrine. A 
 
424 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 purely social cause is thus explained as a religious one, and 
 the personal inferiority of the members of the Catholic Church 
 damages the good report of their faith in a most unfortunate way. 
 Further, certain Catholic priests, affected by the influence of 
 their flocks, and also being of similar origin, willingly exalt the 
 benefits obtained by common action, and oppose the dangers 
 of individual initiative to it. In fact, they are not at all dis 
 pleased with a slight suspicion of socialism. But socialism, 
 even in its most innocent and diluted forms, is the absolute 
 negation of the individualist spirit of an American. Even the 
 man who is least a Yankee instinctively feels that it is so, and 
 his prejudices against Romanism are further increased. 
 
 The temporal power of the Church in Europe in the past 
 and the nature of its adherents in America at present are the 
 two great obstacles which the Catholic religion finds in its 
 way ; and they are the more formidable because they are in a 
 measure internal. 
 
 Less important hindrances are the effect of external circum 
 stances; one, for instance, is the unsectarian public schools. It 
 is evident that children educated in schools where no religion 
 is taught run the risk of losing any germs of faith they may 
 have had, and in any case become less disposed to make them 
 bring forth fruit. The Baltimore Council has decided that as 
 far as possible every Catholic parish should have its Catholic 
 schools. But means which are plentiful in the East are often 
 lacking in the Western prairies, so that many Catholic children 
 go to public schools and are thus exposed to an atmosphere 
 of indifference while they are yet quite young. It must be 
 distinctly understood that an unsectarian school is not a school 
 hostile to religion. The Bible used to be read and explained 
 in all schools, and it followed that a Catholic child could not 
 learn the Protestant lessons which were given without some 
 detriment to his faith. Further, Protestants, narrowly bound 
 by the dogmas of their own sect, feared the religious instruction 
 given by masters belonging to a different one. The unsectarian 
 school was brought about by these difficulties, not by a general 
 scepticism, and is, therefore, more sincerely neuter than our 
 French schools. Hence every family at home, and every sect 
 in its Sunday schools, may complete the work of the public 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 425 
 
 school without having to contend against it. But the impres 
 sion of indifference received by children from their earliest 
 youth remains, and is deep-seated in those of a family of no 
 strong religious bias, although it is quickly effaced in others. 
 However, the selection which naturally takes place between 
 real believers and luke-warm adherents operates rather to the 
 advantage of the Catholic Church. 
 
 This selection goes on outside the schools, owing to analogous 
 causes. Nobody in the States is bound to maintain a certain 
 religious attitude in which he does not believe. Nobody is in 
 the habit of going to mass as part of a social system, nor will 
 anybody receive the visit of a priest in order to conciliate con 
 ventionality. There are no appearances to be kept up, because 
 people round about belong to all sorts of sects or to none. In 
 such surroundings only those who really believe gather under 
 a religious banner. This explains the losses of Catholicism in 
 the United States, as well as the gaining of new adherents. 
 Nominal Catholics, coming across the Atlantic, soon lose their 
 convictions and join the mass of indifferents. In one little 
 colony of about a dozen French families in the West, I saw 
 three divorced people who had been remarried before some 
 judge or another. By birth and baptism they were Catholics, 
 but by their matrimonial entanglements they were outside the 
 Church, which they had left without much compunction, as the 
 following story, related of one of them by a Parisian exile out 
 there, proves: " When he wished to marry little T., after 
 his divorce, the lady asked him to go to the Catholic church. 
 We marched in procession to the vicarage, but when the priest 
 learned that H. had been divorced, he refused to marry the 
 two. We then went to the Probate Judge s, but he was not at 
 home ; we sought out the Mayor s house, but did not find him 
 in. At last we discovered a clergyman of some sort or an 
 other, who tied the knot. I can tell you, sir, I never was at 
 such a wedding as that before ; but then, you see, America is 
 quite different from other places !" 
 
 Thus relieved of all elements which encumber it without 
 profit, the Catholic Church is truly itself, is a union of true be 
 lievers, which aids it in a marked way. I heard a very original 
 proof of this in the same Western town where that marriage 
 
426 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 took place : " If the Catholic priest asks the loan of a hun 
 dred dollars from the bank he gets it at once ; but they won t 
 give a Methodist minister the same credit. The priest s is better 
 because his flock is compact and much more united." But respect 
 of this kind is not always payable.in current coin, even in Amer 
 ica, and there are other means of revealing it. One is the 
 universal habit, even among Protestants, of calling every 
 Catholic priest " Father." An American ecclesiastic laugh 
 ingly told me how he had caused an Italian lady much distress 
 during his stay in Rome, because two young American girls 
 always addressed him in this way. 
 
 In spite of obstacles, Catholicism is, therefore, making an 
 honored place for itself in the land of Uncle Sam, and begins to 
 recruit itself by conversions in truly American districts, where 
 it finds a field carefully prepared for its seed to grow. For 
 Catholicism demands something other than mere adhesion to 
 this or that dogma from its members ; it makes them exert 
 themselves ; it proclaims that " faith without works is dead," 
 and desires the Christian to work out his own salvation ; it 
 expects him to make a personal effort. Americans are very 
 apt at this individual action, which is in fact their dominant 
 characteristic ; and an apostle has only to direct this action 
 and illumine it by faith. When one of these energetic and 
 resolute men reaches the truth, the victory is sure. This is a 
 condition very favorable to the expansion of Catholicism in the 
 United States. It is quite easy to make an American Catholic 
 understand the necessity for advancing in the path of virtue. 
 Here is the summary of a typical sermon preached one Sunday 
 in Denver about a mission that was soon to be begun in the 
 parish : " This mission," said the priest to his hearers, " is a 
 grace sent to you by God, which you must seize. You often 
 see men in the best positions because they have profited by 
 some favorable opportunity, by some lucky chance that they 
 encountered. Every man has such good chances sometime or 
 another in this world, but only those who take the trouble to 
 profit by them succeed in life. This is the law of the temporal 
 world, and it is also that of the spiritual world. Here is a good 
 opportunity for bettering yourselves morally. Do not let it 
 escape you." There was no need of rousing the audience out 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 427 
 
 of their indifference ; all that was needed was to point out to 
 them that they advanced in the spiritual life just as they did 
 in the temporal : by clearsighted and energetic individual effort 
 and not simply by prudent conduct and well-regulated habits. 
 
 The Catholic Church thus finds precious material in Ameri 
 can society for its spiritual work. The difficulties we have 
 noticed are hone the less formidable, but they will tend to 
 disappear as Catholicism takes a firmer hold in the United 
 States. The charge of Romanism will gradually appear less 
 and less justified when the clergy consists of Americans ; and 
 nobody will sincerely believe any longer that Catholicism 
 deadens the will when its members also are all true Ameri 
 cans. The spiritual future of the Catholic Church seems 
 assured. 
 
 From the very first the Catholic Church has found every 
 thing that best conduces to its free development, temporally, 
 in the United States. It is completely independent of the 
 temporal po\\er, is freed from any State control, and is recog 
 nized as a most valuable public service. This permits it to live 
 in broad daylight. On this broad and simple basis it sets up its 
 ancient organization. 
 
 When a bishop has to be chosen, the clergy meet and draw 
 up a list of three candidates with digmts, dignior, or dignissimus 
 before each name, to indicate the assembly s idea of their rela 
 tive order of merit. The Holy See usually endorses this judg 
 ment by appointing him whom they name dignissimus; and 
 that is all. The Government does not bother itself about the 
 matter in the least, as it thinks the Catholics the only people 
 concerned in it. Is this the result of special religious politics? 
 Not at all. In a country where every private establishment 
 can freely develop, the Catholic Church has just the same 
 rights as any other society not opposed to good manners. It 
 develops as a self-governing body among other autonomous 
 associations, none of which try to enslave it because none pre 
 tend to universal domination. 
 
 When a diocese or parish has to be formed or a church built, 
 the matter is settled by the ecclesiastical authorities according 
 to the needs of the Church in the district. The Church 
 receives a charter giving it a civil status, which allows it to 
 
428 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 own, transfer and dispose of property. This is the United 
 States system for all foundations hospitals, libraries, univer 
 sities and other associations. 
 
 The Church not only enjoys perfect liberty, but the authori 
 ties do not ignore it on pretext of its receiving no delegation 
 from the temporal power. . A Church dignitary, when he ap 
 pears at any public ceremony, is treated according to the situa 
 tion he occupies de facto. Any Government official, addressing 
 a bishop, uses his title in so doing. Americans have no notion 
 that every social hierarchy must be consecrated by government 
 before it can stand upright. This is a very different condition 
 of affairs from that in the great centralized States of Europe, 
 where a public body cannot be brought into existence or sup 
 ported without a certain amount of power being delegated to 
 it, and where no title is valid without an official stamp. 
 Americans have an idea that powers in juxtaposition should 
 live on friendly terms with and yet be independent of each 
 other. In France we can conceive only of superposed authori 
 ties, and the Catholic Church has had to accommodate itself to 
 this conception in several European countries by accepting for 
 its members positions somewhat analagous to that of civil 
 servants. It has not such burdens to bear in the United 
 States. Hence its many advantages. 
 
 First of all, the great external gain for the Catholic Church 
 being freed from all connection with the State does not incur 
 the hatred of dissenters, and does not hurt the belief of any 
 body, because it demands no forced homage. 
 
 Then it becomes absolute mistress of its own actions, and 
 has no need of any concordat, fixing laws submitted to rather 
 than accepted in addition to canon law. Ecclesiastical dis 
 cipline is not interfered with, and the Church administration is 
 untrammelled. 
 
 Hence, the American Catholic Church is both very national 
 and very orthodox. There is no fear that an ill-inspired patriot 
 ism will make it recognize any right of State interference 
 with its spiritual interests, which never happens here, as the 
 State is not organized for doing so. There is no obstacle 
 between the conscience of an American and Papal authority, 
 so that Pope Gregory XVI. could justly claim that "he did 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 429 
 
 not feel himself more Pope anywhere than in the United 
 States." Yet the American Catholic Church, in its features, 
 its autonomous situation, its enterprising spirit and its sincere 
 attractions to the institutions of the country has a well- 
 marked national character. 
 
 Its American spirit is shown by a thousand details. The 
 clergy go about more among the people and are more humane 
 than in other countries. The benefices they own are due to 
 the generosity of the faithful, and their material interests are 
 thus the same as those of other citizens ; they rejoice in a boom 
 which raises the value of property, and help it as much as they 
 can. They are not officials drawing a fixed but modest salary. 
 This enables them to develop certain practical directing quali 
 ties, which they use for the furtherance of their spiritual mis 
 sion, by freely advising any who come to them, without dis 
 tinction of creed. The priest of one large parish once said to 
 me : " Every day my home is full of people who wish to con 
 sult me, and I can assure you that all do not lay before me 
 matters of conscience. But that matters little. We serve the 
 highest interests of religion by acting thus, for we must show 
 our brethren by every possible means that we really love them, 
 that we share their difficulties, applaud their successes, and 
 seek to raise them when they have fallen. We must win our 
 way to their hearts." 
 
 The most eminent priests, inspired by this pregnant idea, ob 
 tain a very high place in the esteem of their fellow-citizens. 
 For instance, Archbishop Ireland is the most marked individu 
 ality in St. Paul. Both Catholics and Protestants call him a 
 " splendid man," as they term it ; that is, one possessing Ameri 
 can characteristics in a marked degree, energy and powerful 
 initiative, shown by a sincere and enlightened love for public 
 good. He is at the head of colonizing and educational enter 
 prises. He is rebuilding his Cathedral at present in a quarter 
 which has a great future before it, and is thus giving a stimulus 
 to the expansion of the town, accomplishing at the same time 
 the work of a bishop and a good citizen. 
 
 In order to understand the sovereign efficacy for moral 
 progress or personal worth, united with a disinterested life, one 
 must see a man of this stamp at work. The example of such 
 
430 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 bishops does more to break down the barriers in the way of 
 the Catholic propaganda than any amount of argument. Note 
 carefully, too, that the American Church has all that is needed 
 for the formation of such men. Doubtless great natural gifts 
 are everywhere, but some environments prevent their develop 
 ment while others favor their expansion. In such favorable 
 surroundings individual responsibility is developed as much 
 as possible, and the superior man finds his proper place. The 
 American Church is certainly one of these environments, for it 
 relies on no outside support, because it is used to walking 
 alone. 
 
 The American priest is not always growling about the wicked 
 ness of the times, the difficulty of being good and many other 
 subjects usually in the mouths of French ecclesiastics. He 
 accepts the present as it is, looks on it as a problem to be 
 solved, and thinks only of a future he feels responsible for ; as 
 Monsignor Ireland said in Baltimore Cathedral at the Cente 
 nary of the American Church : 
 
 " A century closes, a century opens ; the next century of the 
 life of the Church in America will be what we make it ; it will 
 be our own, the fruit of our labors. Brothers, bishops, priests 
 and laymen, in what words shall I tell the responsibility which 
 weighs upon us ! ... Do not imagine that I lose sight of the 
 absolute necessity of the divine act.... God always does 
 his part ; man s part is not always done.. . . We too often seem 
 to wish that God do all. . . . Our work is in the present and not 
 in the past. The world has entered into an entirely new 
 phase ; the past cannot be recalled ; reaction is the dream of 
 men who see not and hear not ; who sit at the gates of ceme 
 teries, weeping over tombs that shall not be reopened, in utter 
 oblivion of the living world back of them." 
 
 Such words give the impression of a young and vigorous 
 organism, full of practical ardor, efficient and healthy, and 
 makes us feel confident in the future of the American Church. 
 Their effect may perhaps be felt even far away from the 
 United States. This youngest of Catholic nations may play a 
 still more important part in the future. 
 
 I was speaking with an American Archbishop one day about 
 Monsignor Ireland, when he remarked : " He is the man we 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 431 
 
 most desire to see Pope." The proposal took me by surprise ; 
 but as I heard the same idea expressed on several occasions, I 
 came to ask myself if this example of American boasting had 
 not some real insight into the future, although somewhat 
 premature. It is very unlikely that Archbishop Ireland will 
 ever occupy the Papal throne ; but it is quite possible that an 
 American may be Pope before the end of the twentieth cen 
 tury. An Italian Pope, in a united and centralized Italy, will 
 soon be as inconvenient as a French, German or Spanish one ; 
 for there will arise diplomatic difficulties, owing to his being 
 the subject of a powerful and authoritative State. The Con 
 clave will probably turn its eyes towards America, the only 
 nation with a numerous body of Catholics, where the Church 
 is quite independent of the State. 
 
 What could be better than an American Pope to aid the 
 Church to ride through the stormy times approaching? Every 
 throne in Europe is tottering. Even Governments the most 
 stable in appearance, whether Monarchical or Republican, are 
 really shaky. None of them can give the Church any effective 
 support, even when they are devoted to her interests. She 
 must sustain herself by her own efforts, must live her own life, 
 must be completely autonomous. This is the happy necessity 
 of these newer times. The American Church has no evolution 
 to accomplish to come abreast of the times. She has out 
 stripped her elders in this new way, because she has grown up 
 in a new country. She may serve as a model when transfor 
 mation time comes. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 We have studied every phase of American life. We have 
 seen how it takes advantage of the different resources of the 
 vast continent on which it has planted its power. We have 
 sat by the hearth and examined its public life and religious 
 belief. We are, therefore, acquainted with the essentials of its 
 social constitution and can answer with some real knowledge 
 the ordinary Yankee query, " How do you like this country?" 
 
 It is very difficult to pass a general judgment on a nation, 
 to praise or blame it in the lump. A thousand criticisms are 
 readily raised against any expression of complete sympathy or 
 antipathy ; and there is always a chance of facts being distorted 
 when this sympathy or antipathy comes into play. 
 
 But after an impartial examination of the various elements 
 which compose a society, it is impossible to refrain from asking 
 what are the causes of its feebleness or its force ; from seeing if 
 signs of deterioration overpower signs of prosperity ; from in 
 quiring if the society is raising itself or falling. Everyone has 
 a general impression after doing this. 
 
 The result of the impression in the case of the United States 
 is quite obvious. 
 
 There are many serious disorders in the United States, as 
 we have had occasion to point out. Strikes are frequent in the 
 labor world; engagements are unstable; many masters are 
 utterly indifferent to the fate of their men ; trusts have arisen 
 and speculation is excessive. In family life we found divorce 
 shielding a legalized prostitution, voluntary barrenness raging 
 in large Eastern cities, and drunkenness brutalizing people. 
 Unscrupulous politicians fill most government situations, and 
 justice is more a danger than a protection to the honest man. 
 
434 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 Lastly, we discovered that, although religion was respected, 
 indifference was almost universal. 
 
 America has its sores, like every European nation, like every 
 human society ; yet we must not estimate the work of a society 
 by its evils, but rather by the force with which it opposes 
 them. Every society would soon vanish if the ills that attack 
 it were powerful enough to destroy it. History tells how some 
 have been able to develop and prosper in spite of crises, while 
 others disappeared when these crises arose. 
 
 Now, one of the most marked characteristics of American 
 society is its wonderful power of weathering storms. This it 
 owes to the individual energy of its members who never seem 
 to know that there is such a thing as discouragement. It ap 
 pears as if no fall was fatal and irreparable to an American, 
 for no fall ever destroys his will. When a man is completely 
 ruined, he begins to work again with the same earnestness as 
 before, and public opinion does not think the worse of him for 
 his failure, as long as he works energetically. But if he does 
 not try to rise up again it immediately ostracises him. 
 
 This great curative power, distributed throughout the nation, 
 is only a special manifestation of that impulsive force which 
 pushes him onwards. People would not rise up so quickly were 
 there no goal to be gained. This makes the vitality of America ; 
 this is the guarantee of its great future. 
 
 Perhaps you have sometimes asked yourselves how a people, 
 born but yesterday and composed of so many elements, has 
 become so homogeneous that it is possible to recognize the 
 faults and the virtues presented by a distinct type ? 
 
 If the American race has no common ethnic origin, it has 
 one which results from selection. It borrows elements from 
 every kind of environment, and keeps only those endowed 
 with sufficient energy to take advantage of the natural means 
 of success offered by the immense territory of the Union. 
 
 It affords an Italian or a Hungarian a temporary shelter, but 
 becomes the country of the Scandinavian or Anglo-Saxon. 
 Not only does it attract Europeans capable of living in the 
 American fashion, but it constantly sends away Americans 
 wishing to escape from it. Hence the American colony of the 
 Champs-Elysees in Paris. He who would become or remain 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 435 
 
 an American must look on life as a struggle and not as a 
 pleasure; he must count victorious effort and energetic arid 
 efficient action more than ease, more than that leisure adorned 
 by artistic and refined culture which is sought after in other 
 societies. 
 
 Everything we saw on ranches and farms, in mines, in in 
 dustry and commerce, in the organization of the family or pub 
 lic affairs, led us to conclude that moral worth and personal, 
 active, creative energy explain the American s success, create 
 the types, and make the sum of good outvalue the sum of evil. 
 
 His creative energy is so fruitful that if you glance over the 
 immense continent, which was almost a desert a hundred years 
 ago, peopled with Indians and bisons, you will find it covered 
 with railroads, flourishing towns and rich harvests to-day. Its 
 crops, industry and commerce have become a menace to 
 Europe ; so that the Old World, though armed to the teeth, 
 respects and fears this country without soldiers. 
 
 What has brought about this transformation ? Is it a power 
 ful capital? a sovereign of genius? 
 
 Not at all ; but a handlul of farmers and merchants. 
 
 They have done more than this. After having opened up 
 the country they organized it, and have formed a Government 
 which is their servant and which can be improved without a 
 violent revolution. In fact, they have done everything; and 
 in spite of the evils we have pointed out, their work is develop 
 ing every day. 
 
 Individual energy formed American society and still pre 
 serves it. Why? How has this quality developed so mar 
 vellously ? 
 
 A comparison of the extent of the United States with the 
 actual population will give the answer. Available land 
 abounds; numerous industries are constantly developing; 
 every man willing to use his arms and his will can easily find 
 employment. With energy, perseverance and strong charac 
 ter, nothing is impossible. Audacity becomes wisdom. 
 
 This favorable condition is so helpful in raising individual 
 effort to its maximum intensity and efficiency, that it attracts 
 people who are the most predisposed to make this effort, and 
 causes them to prosper. 
 
43 6 AMERICAN LIFE. 
 
 This is what happens. America is open to the whole world, 
 and hands over some of her land to anybody who wishes it. 
 Then, after a certain time, it gives him the American nation 
 ality ; and although it attracts immigrants of every sort, yet 
 those at the head of affairs are always members of a race 
 moulded by individual effort. They alone can fully profit by 
 American advantages. Those from European nations adopt 
 ing the system of collective effort, excessive militarism, and 
 vigorous government, and glorying in it all, seeing in it the one 
 condition of safety, of power and of progress, are placed among 
 such advantages without being able to make use of them. 
 
 The world seems divided into two very distinct classes at 
 present. One trusts in individual effort, and only unites its 
 forces for concerted action when necessary, and does so in ways 
 that differ according to circumstances. It defeats individual 
 initiative to do all, and dreads any impediments to its action. 
 The other puts its confidence in collective effort, in permanent 
 administrative groups, difficult to transform ; it expects all 
 things to be done by authority, and fears, above all else, the 
 action of individual effort. 
 
 Which of these is the force of the future ? Which one will 
 kill the other? At the end of the nineteenth and the beginning 
 of the twentieth century the answer will seem no longer 
 doubtful. 
 
 We live in an epoch of quick transformations, when modern 
 inventions are turning the labor world upside down at every 
 instant. The law of work is more than ever the law of progress. 
 This demands that men must be capable of acting alone or of 
 combining according to the needs of the hour with prompt 
 ness, and not in old stiff forms made in other days for other 
 needs. No definite permanent situations can exist among 
 these inevitable and constant changes ; and every effort made 
 to preserve them artificially is doomed to be destroyed by the 
 force of circumstances. The only plan to adopt is to be armed 
 for the fight, to be ready to turn about untrammelled in every 
 movement, and not chained to a post, waiting for orders. 
 Initiative, and not docility, is wanted in the future. 
 
 The coming race will be that one whose men, freed from 
 every unnecessary yoke, have reduced government to a mini- 
 
AMERICAN LIFE. 437 
 
 mum, wherein man formed by his own effort realizes the maxi 
 mum intensity of that effort. 
 
 This is true, morally as well as materially. Individual en 
 deavor is the only efficacious morality in all times and places. 
 This is the working out of our own salvation, recommended 
 by ancient philosophy, prescribed by religion and honored 
 and fruitful everywhere. This is the text of the poet Long 
 fellow, in the splendid stanzas of his u Psalm on Life," which 
 is a truly inspired American lyric : 
 
 Not enjoyment and not sorrow, 
 
 Is our destined end or way ; 
 But to act, that each to-morrow 
 
 Finds us farther than to-day. 
 
 Trust no Future, howe er pleasant ! 
 
 Let the dead past bury its dead ! 
 Act act in the living Present ! 
 
 Heart within, and God o erhead. 
 
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