THE pp[|f c!f r-T^Tj^^^^r^^^*: BOUCK WHIT THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT From the library of Henry Goldman, C.E. Ph.D. 1886-1972 s? ■^^^x Digitized by tlie Internet Arcliive in 2007 witli funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/freecitybookofneOOwliitiala THE FREE GITY THE FKEE CITY A BOOK OF NEIGHBORHOOD BY BOUCK WHITE AUTHOR OP "the CALL OF THE CARPENTER," "the carpenter and the rich man," " the book of danisl drew," etc. NEW YORK MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY 1919 COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY M07FAT, YARD & COMPANY HT TO ARISTOTLE AND JESUS THE TWO MASTER MINDS OF OUR PLANET, FOUNDERS OF POLITICAL SCIENCE, FELLOW TOILERS FOR A SOUND JURISPRUDENCE, THIS BOOK IS REVERENTLY INSCRIBED. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Neighborhood or Nationhood 1 II. Municipal Communion is the Light of Genius 12 TIL City-worship Lays Her Basis Deep ... 24 IV. When Rome was a Republic 38 V. Athenian Self-ownership 52 VI. The City Set on a Hill 70 VII. The Patriotism of Jesus 87 VIII. Why America is tbdej Loiterer 105 IX. Twilight and the Dark 120 X. Industrial Democracies 131 XL The City State is a Work State .... 144 XII. The Afterglow 169 XIII. When Commonwealth is King 174 XIV. Now IN THE World's Remaking .... 191 XV. Cara Patria, Carior Libertas 207 XVL The Mysticism of Municipality .... 224 XVII. The Social State 239 XVIIL Personality 252 XIX. The Land op Everlasting Life .... 271 XX. A Cosmic Courtship 282 XXI. The Republic of Common Sense .... 298 The Free City CHAPTER I NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? THE present scheme is petering out; it has run its tether. A thousand years have elapsed since 1914. Our America, in the form it held hitherto, is no more booked for continuance than are the other institutions of that prehistoric era before the War. The best thing we can say about our Constitution is that it provides the machinery for its own annulment. I sup- pose that Alexander Hamilton let loose more currents of greed and unbelief than any other man now inhabiting the kingdoms of the dead. Does not this Potomac River fabric that he was instrumental in creating, present to the gaze of men and of angels a madder money-worship than ever before bedevilled the human species? Where else can be found so steep contrast between the extremes of wealth and destitution? That gulf simdering through the midriff of our body politic is the measure of our social breakdown. In the dungeons of humdrum, plod the toiling masses accursed; whilst in the banquet hall above, the privileged ones hold carnival. But high against the wall, the Flame-Finger is writing. It is no longer a question. Shall we change our social order? but only, What shall we change it into? "League of Nations," is the answer given by many. And certainly much sincere idealism acclaimed that messiah. But even now, there is discernible in their 2 THE FREE CITY ardor a marked cooling. The league of nations Covenant, that was to have been the document of a divine and revolutionary change in our planetary ongoings, was not long in shrinking from a world's diameter to a "Big Five." Then a "Big Four." And soon, a "Big Three." Geneva as the seat of John Calvin's Free City, achieved a name aroimd which even yet clusters a radiance of high description. But a Geneva of world pohticians, the puppet of international financiers, would indite a quite dififerent tale. Already there are signs of a rival League of Nations, with a rival world capital. As the area of the state enlarges, the importance of the individual diminishes. Statehood is the window in the house, through which we get our glimpse of Heaven; inlet of celestial sunUght and the fresh air. But if too many are crowded into one house, that window cannot admit air and light for them all. And a suffocating Black Hole of Calcutta is the result — a beast-den of wild raging maniacs, clawing, shrieking, fighting towards that vent. On the other hand, multiply the houses; you have now fewer folk in each. So the window therein is adequate to the inhabiters. And a civil decorum is engendered. Liberty has a dual task: to build a state, and keep it small. When the state is too large, imperialism is the cursed product. When there is no state at all, anarchism is the product, equally a hell broth of miseries. Col- lectivity must be, but not a collectivity too colossal. The municipal repubHc is statehood, but it is statehood reduced to its lowest terms. Therefore it gives the maximum of benefit, with a minimum of individual repression. A state-kept-small, is man's servant; a state- too-big mounts over him, a very tjTant for mastership. Modernity, organizing the map of the globe into huge governmental fabrics, talks gUbly of "Englands," NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? 3 "Americas," "Italys," et cetera. The players of the game sit around a table, shifting these counters like gamesters in a poker match. They forget that each of those collectivities is constituted of fifty million John Smiths and Richard Roes, every one of whom is a deep tremendous entity, with his love affairs, family ties, debts, ambitions, diseases, worriments, struggHngs, plannings, hopings, despondings. Which fifty million John Smiths are refusing longer to lump themselves into a poUtical poker chip to be bandied around an international gaming table. The submergence of the individual — here is the heart of the present discontents. When the Potomac scheme started, a Congressman represented thirty thou- sand people. To-day a Congressman represents nearly three hundred thousand people; a shrinkage of a thousand per cent in the governmental weight of each American, in a space of one hundred and thirty years. And the dis- proportion is growing. We Americans have tried to salve our wounded self- esteem by explaining that we choose our representatives, and therefore must not be accounted altogether as puppies in a basket; for at least we elect the person who is to carry the basket. But, to elect the basket-carrier once in four years, and then be toted about — is it not still a puppy status? Furthermore some disquieting thoughts are arising as to that "election" business. It is being discovered that centralization of government carries with it centralization of control over political parties. Nowhere is the unimportance of the individual more poignantly manifest than on Election Day, when the basket-carrier is chosen. The spectacle of that "sacred" Tuesday in November is steadily deteriorating in its power to swell the heart with emotions of freedom and 4 THE FREE CITY self-reverence. It is safe to aflGirm that there is not another day in the calendar when the puppy-in-a-basket feeling is so depressingly pushed home onto the con- sciousness of everyone who knows the facts. Sirs, only a league of Free Cities can be the United States of the World. History holds no precedent of nations federating. But history holds many a precedent of Free Cities federating. National states are com- mercial. Commerce covets a wide poUtical expanse. When commerciaUsts get control, they straightway tear down the territorial partitions; in order to give the trader a broad area across which to ply his traffic. Which broad unrestricted area in turn Uberates the conmiercial — money-lusting — instinct. That money-lust after a time collides with a like lust in some other national- commercial group; with war as the name of it. Com- mercialism, nationalism, militarism — Htter of one and the same wolf-bitch. And Greed is the hound that sired them. ■ In a large way of looking, there have been, and will always be, only two forms of society: the mu- nicipal and the national. Municipality projects an artistic civilization; nationality projects a commercial civilization. An artistic age is affectionate, a commercial age is drab and chill and bloody. America is not a country but a continent. Americans are notorious for their materialist quality of mind. It is because we gave up our system of httle republics, and consolidated into what is now the hugest of nations. Being biggest of them all, we are most material-minded of them all. Things, Things, Things are in the saddle; with man as the damned packhorse underneath. Rich in peK are we, and spiritual paupers. The bank book is our bible. Idolatry of the Dollar; stable of the Golden Calf! With mediocrity marking us for her own. The NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? 5 two first class souls we have produced were Emerson and Whitman. Emerson spoke one continuing protest against the materiaUsm of American Hfe. Whitman lived that protest, and pleaded for decentralization of goverrmient: "To the States, or any one of them, or any City of the States: Resist much, obey little." Why is the European laborer high-spirited, and the American laborer low-spirited; so that any ferment in our proletariat is usually to be traced to foreigners resi- dent among us? It is because in Europe, states are comparatively small; so the individual there is not swallowed up, but retains a sense of personal importance. America is well nigh as big as all Europe put together. Living in so vast an empire, the American loses control of his destiny; becomes fatalistic, submissive, crushed with a feeling of helplessness. Search history, you will find that practically all of the philosophies of fatalism arose in times of huge statehoods. The larger the state, the more supine is the individual. That is why the forces of reaction are here so massively intrenched. Europeans are awakening. We Americans are the backward stagnant member of the human family. "Government for the people," said Hamilton. "Govern- ment by the people," pleaded Patrick Henry. Hamilton triumphed — that secret convention of 1787, which inflicted Central Government upon us. Hamilton labored incessantly to the end that "the Federal Government may then triumph over the State governments, and reduce them to entire eubordination;" in order *' to pro- tect the men of property from the depredations which the democratic spirit is apt to make on property." Since then, a hundred and thirty years of mammonism unre- strained, unabashed, prove that Patrick Henry was right, and Hamilton was wrong. 6 THE FREE CITY If life consisteth in the abundance of things man pos- sesseth, then America is immistakably a success. But if life is to be measured in terms of fellowship and joy and song and beauty's high creation, then we are a miserable and sorriest failure. No nation upon earth that so needs to enter the valley of a deep humiUation, as the U.S.A. The wholesomest thing that could happen to us would be to sit for a season on the mourners' bench. More than any other people, we need a penitential office, intoning a Utany of mortification for our mistreadings and shortcomings. Otherwise the blatancy and cockiness of easy wealth wiU vulgarize us beyond the reach of redemption. What America needs is not a sooth-teller but a truth-teller. Let us be quit of the flatterers we have hired to say pleasant things to us. We are a nation of gadders and money-getters. We have lost the instinct of Uberty — we think chiefly in terms of comfort. There is a hardening of the heart. Whilst our pocket book is fattening, the soul of us has been going scrawny and tubercular. Where else upon earth, in this or any other day, shall you find biUionairie opulence side by side with a pauperism utter and stark and naked of hope? Money — money is the thing we boast; forgetful that the money-making talent is perhaps the cheapest of them all. But not even the money is of our own creating. We found the wealth here; had merely to gather it in double handfuls. Municipal states weigh life in terms of greatness. Na- tional states weigh life in terms of bigness. The United States Constitution, ordaining a people whose mentaUty is attuned to standards of bulk, hugeness, sprawling im- mensity, will have to be written down as the most sinister document ever produced by the twin forces of extortion and cynical unbelief. In the light of an American pro- NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? 7 letariat so slavish, and a farming population large seg- ments of which are slumping into peasanthood, we can confidently affirm that the world would be better off if birth control had been practised on Alexander Hamilton before he was begun. Once awakened from the dollar- dollar mania that is oppressing us Hke a nightmare, we will perceive that the Potomac River episode in our history was chiefly one of grandiose triviahty; and which we will gladly permit to sHp into merciful obHvion. America promises to be the next menace to the peace of the world. In an Associated Press despatch from Tokio I read that the Osaka Mainichi, in an article setting forth the attitude of many Japanese thinkers, speaks of "the American wolf, whose wolfish ambition is indeed to be feared." Again, from another quarter: "We South Americans do not understand all this anxiety of the Samaritan American politicians about the Monroe Doc- trine. We do not ask for any mantle of protection. If in the near past we entertained any fear from outside aggression, it was from the United States, and not from any European power. Who has absorbed an immense territory that once belonged to Mexico? Who has an- nexed the Sandwich Islands? Who is holding Santo Domingo by force?" And now, from Rio Janeiro, comes an article by Albuquerque, a leading journahst of Brazil. He accuses the United States of "fomenting revolutions in Mexico," and says: "The United States will do to Brazil as she has done to Central America nations." He adds: "The United States incontestably is the Pi-ussia of tomorrow." Commercialized Christendom is heading towards another war; which will be as much more ter- rible than the recent War, as that was more terrible than the one that preceded it; with new implements of slaughter, Hquid flames, poison gases, aye, disease germs 8 THE FREE CITY cultivated in huge laboratories — all the panoply of destruction let loose by the unevangelized science of our mammonistic age; a destruction so catastrophic that victor and victim will go down in an equal disaster. From present indications, that next war is not more than a decade off. Unless we can institute a social fabric based on neighborhood instead of nationhood, it is all up with us. We have only about ten years in which to save the world. Small states, by the straitness of the girdling frontier, constrain the population into solidarity. Large states, on the other hand, permit the Haves and the Have-nots to fly apart into warring classes. America, being larger than any other, is more interiorly divided than any other. Where else is brotherhood so tragically a stranger? where else are the people spht so sharply into cHques and sects and racial groups? It is time we put falsity far from us and faced facts. The melting pot is not melting. Nor can it. A pot as big as all out-doors is not a melting pot; cannot be brought to the boiling pwint, where alone a chemical fusion takes place. Our soldiers in the War wrote home in 46 different languages. When the new- comers among us were few, they were perforce swept into the dominant type. But now that their numbers are great, they are forming each a kingdom by itself; im- peria in imperio. The "Union" we boast so loudly, is the most disunited thing: a disharmony that resounds with an ever more rasping note, as our wealth augments to multiply the ostentations of the rich and the covetous- ness of the poor. Our present scheme is coming to an end because it is too difficult. The attempt to govern three thousand miles of people from one spot, has involved Washington in so tangled a web of evasion and contradictions, that NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? 9 now it sits dazed, irresolute, palsied. Potomac bureau- crats should awaken our sympathy instead of our wrath. A campaign of investigation into their blunders during the War, is being started. To put men in so unnatural a position, and then ask of them efficiency, is to demand what the human frame is not equal to. A tired over- worked president; and a hundred miUion other Ameri- cans loafing on the job! The Free City, by contrast, is the easy method; it awakes the people to do their own governing; instead of depending on prefects sent from Washington, and swivel chairs in the District of Columbia. Our nation is gov- ernment by the rich, of the rich, and for the rich. An artificial apparatus, it requires a plexus of ropes and cords and wires; machine that has grown more and more com- plicated, until now it is breaking down by reason of impossible clumsiness. Free government needs no elab- oration of political devices. Directorship of a community by the people who live in that conmiunity, is the com- monsense method. A return to the Free City will be a return to the simplified life. The League of Nations has at least done this much: It has tolled the knell of nationality. There were those who thought nations to be in perpetuity; with London, Paris, Washington henceforth as the everlasting arbiters of man's fate. But Geneva, usurping those thrones of sovereignty, has called in question that entire scheme of things; and nowhere more emphatically than in smug phiHstine America. The District of Columbia is a fiat city; has no advantages of scenery or shipping or situa- tion or natural resources. It was founded purely to be the seat of poHtioal lordship. Therefore when that is wrested from her, or when her prerogative is even called in question (so sensitive a plant is sovereignty), she is 10 THE FREE CITY bereaved indeed. Washington was built as the capital of a nation that should be based on the idea of bigness. The local governments protested against that usurpation. They pleaded: "A state should not be too big." "Tut, tut," said the Potomac, "the bigger the better, the bigger the better"; and grew fat at their expense. Now Geneva proceeds to grow fat at her expense. "No, no," protests the Potomac, in the person of the senatorial barons; "a state should not be too big." "Tut, tut," says Geneva; "bigger the better"; and she takes over the sovereignty. Because — don't you see? — if size be the criterion of perfectness, then a world-sized state is more perfect than a state of only continental size. When once the neigh- borhood-state is given up, and a nation-state begins, there is then no stopping place until the supernation, embrac- ing all mankind, is erected. Whereupon the structure falls apart by its own weight. "Bigger-the-better" built Washington. And now "Bigger-the-better" will gobble her up. The passing of the Potomac clears the field for muni- cipaUty. Geneva translates the concrete nationalisms that so balefully have plagued the world, into a vague and fluid cosmopolitanism. This presents to our cities a welcome liberation. The municipaUty heretofore has been in eclipse. Central Government bulked so large that the cities were but administrative tools of the Poto- mac absolutism; were not permitted to have personaUties of their own. Now however that national feehng is on its death bed, municipal feeling can arise. "A new day shines upon us." Sober minds will hardly contend that this new day is to witness the seat of government trans- ferred to the capital of a world empire, with the breadth of waters spreading between us and a World Committee dictating our destiny. Rather, it should see the seat of NEIGHBORHOOD OR NATIONHOOD? 11 goverament brought back to the communities, where we of the conmion people have our habitation. This all- fluid day invites to an overhauKng of our political ideas. Home rule is freedom; delegated rule is the robbery of freedom. When, out of the wide waste and mud of our planet, a Free City pushes up into being, it is in the sight of The Eternal, as when a gardener discovers a green shoot pricking up out of a seed bed that he had given up as hopeless. Better a poor type of government, ad- ministered by a community for itself, than a mechanically perfect government administered for them. If we don't have Free Cities, we will have Servile Cities. Freedom is self-determination. A Servile City is one whose gov- erning is done outside her borders. A Free City attends to her own governing; gives the back of her hand to any power suggesting to take over these functions for her. They only who Uve in a Free City, are free. Folk of a Servile City are servile. Not the nation, and not the supernation, but the munic- ipality is life's natural pivot; the nucleating center of a worthy world-system. The noble eras have always been those wherein city hall was the focus of man's orbit and his organ of commimication with the outside world. The people are not saved by government but by govern- ing. If it was done in Washington, it was done wrong. E Pluribus Unum. We have overdone the Unum busi- ness. Shall we not talk PlurUms for a while? CHAPTER n MUNICIPAL COMMUNION IS THE LIGHT OF GENIUS COMMUNITY means, Communion; the Com- mmiity States in history have begotten in their people a quaUty of warmth and affection not seen under other political forms. How large a commune — community — should be, there is no rule of thumb to determine. It is a grouping larger than the family and smaller than the nation. On one side of it stretch the family and the individual; on the other side, the nation and the world; with the Commune reposing square in the human center. The Conmiunistic (municipal) prin- ciple is strong on federation, but is in deadly feud with consolidation. Its devotees have received the name, citizens, "folk of a Free City." Citizenship is the cult of the city state. That is where the word derived, and has been its grand historical meaning. Let not the term city commonwealth suggest indif- ference to rural life. A first result of Free Cities is to bring the farmer out of his obscurity and celebrate him as the cornerstone of the st.ate; for without self-subsist- ence a community cannot enjoy self -ownership. In Athens, two-thirds of the citizens lived in the country- side. The Bible, that biography of the Jerusalem munic- ipaUty, is intersprinkled with allusions to shepherds and olive groves, running waters, green pastures, oil and com 12 THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 13 and vineyards. We are in an age of nationalism; that is, of large commercial states. And seldom before was rural life in so low estimation. Moderns look back upon the classic world with envy and despair. Jerusalem, Greece, Rome — with what an uncontested celebrity those names shine above the wreck- age of the years! A lustre attaches to them; a glory that has been continuously triumphant, and which has since departed from the earth. The mind of man in that day seems to have been cast in an ampler mold, and his veins flowed richer blood. The thought will protrude that Heaven had but a limited store of good clay; so that we moderns are compounded of second-rate material, the left-overs after the prime stuff had been used up, Plato, Socrates, Cato, Virgil, Isaiah — folk to-day do not even aspire to an equivalence with them. They were creators, whilst we are imitators. The capacity to strike out new paths, discover new continents in the mental universe, has been lost. We have talent. But they had genius. They gave us the seed, from which we painstakingly grow the plants. The hills of Attica seem to have been closer to the sky than Alleghany tops or the Sierra Nevadas. There is a surmise that God is an oriental, and feels at home only under Syrian stars. Theories are advanced to explain our inferiority to that classic world. Some say it was due to accident: Destiny threw double-sixes once, and cannot cog the dice so as to repeat the performance. More serious minds ex- plain the classic supereminence as due to the exuberant vitality of youth: The world was fresh, humankind was young, and earth was nearer heaven than now. Classic man lived his Ufe on a plane of poetry and lyrical ec- stasies; a perfect daring, noble visionings, sustained en- thusiasms. So that grand demeanor and bibles and 14 ,THE FREE CITY architecture and codes of equity rushed up to a majesty of power beyond what we can hope to attain. Earth wears the Parthenon as the proudest gem upon her zone, and morning opes with haste her Hds to gaze upon the Pyramids; because they who wrought the parthenons and pyramids were in the youthtime of the race, and so wrought wondrously. It is an explanation. But, were it to go unchallenged, would it not curse a plague of pessimism on all futurity? If our inferiority to the ancients be due to advancing years, — the prose of staid maturity as contrasted with the romancings of life at twenty, — then the earth story is writ in a descending curve. We are more decrepit than our predecessors. They who come after us wUl be more decrepit than we — the lag end of the drama, a tale dron- ing on ever more wearily to its finis. Is it a heartening thought to you that our lines have fallen in the declining years of the world, and that mankind now will dodder on to an old age of lassitude and senile decay? Pohtical science brings us gladder tidings. We have lapsed from the spirituality of the ancients, because we have lapsed from their poUty of state. The classic world was a network of municipal republics. They recognized no other pohtical form. Commimity self-rulership, with a jealousy that tolerated no "delegates" and "representa- tives" — this imitation democracy that we moderns are so proud to have hit upon — was with those Mediter- ranean folk the fixed center of their thinking. From that, all of their grandeur, all of their mental emiaence and artistic genius took its fertilizing flow. The Gothic age was another period of genius. And that time of outflowering was also a period of Free Cities. Municipal commonwealths have written the romance into what otherwise had been the annals of a dull and prosy THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 15 planet. We should get well quit of that division of the centuries into "Ancient, Medieval and Modern." All of the centuries, under whatsoever cHme or meridian, are in one of two divisions, the Luminous Ages and the Dull Ages. The Luminous Ages have always been ages of citizenship; that is, of city statehoods. And the Dull Ages, such as our own, have been eras when mankind has tried some other poUtical form. Some will object that our day is commercial, transport- ing commodities across a wide area; so that big national states now are necessary. But the abohtion of frontiers is not requisite to the interchange of traffic. Between New York and Montreal proceeds daily a flow of goods and passengers. When states mutually wish the goods of each other, exchanges are easily perfected. True, the presence of a frontier is an obstacle to freest come and go. But so is a door on a man's house. Municipal states do not regard commerce as the end of existence, or even as the chief of life's desirables. You shall not enter into an understanding of Athens or Rome the Republic, or Jerusalem or Florence, or of Nuremburg and her sister communes in that picturesque Gothic time, unless you purge your mind of this poison of modernity, get a quite different critique of life. The city conamonwealth sounds like merely a proposal to change our political estabUsh- ment. But this change carries with it an acquisition of a new set of values, a shift from prose into poetry, from talent into genius; a transfer of our habitat from a com- mercial civilization over into an artistic civihzation. Municipality is a spiritual organism, bulwark of free- dom and labor. The Free City! It is a word of royal tone, smacking of elegance, tranquillity, manners, the brightest glory. But also it is an austere word, of very thunderous intonation if things be not according to 16 THE FREE CITY equity. Whenever that word "Commune" has sounded on the lips of the workingclass, mammon and his cohorts have been stricken with a nervous chill, MunicipaUty is labor's almighty redeemer. Review the Communes of history, you shall see the aproned bricklayer, the smutched blacksmith, down to the begrimed porter and drayman of the gutter, as public characters with a statesmanly participation in government. They were not "hands"; they were humans, and drinking large draughts of in- tellectual deHght. Co-partnership in the state awoke manliness within them, shaped their fingers to subtle craftsmanship, elevated the mechanic into artistry. " Re- public" means a state whose people interest themselves in public affairs. Only small states can be republics. When the seat of government is many miles removed from his home, a man will not take a daily and enthusias- tic interest in that government. MunicipaUty and de- mocracy, twinned in the same womb, are one and in- separable. Communal self-government makes the people public hearted. Representative government makes the people private hearted. Here is the fester spot; mod- ernity's deep and ulcerating cancer. Along with parent- hood and love-making, government is a function that cannot be delegated. They who do so forfeit their human status. To recall the labor movement from class con- sciousness back into civic consciousness, will not be dangerous. The present posture of the world is the dangerous thing. I do not prophesy a convulsive time coming. The con- vulsion is here. We are in the most humihating moment since time began. What think you of a Christendom that has been spending in mutual slaughter a sum daily that would build two score universities? Nationahsm was the distinctive pohty of the nineteenth century. THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 17 And our fratricidal day is the result. War is the castiga- tion of our economic offendings. In contrast with the artistic eras, a commercial age craves quantity — turns out goods "cheaply." But does not miUtarism add ter- ribly to the cost? Nations are obsolete, in that to main- tain themselves they require such an enormous amount of killing. Never before was nationaUsm — big states — so regnant. And never before did mankind he in such a soak of blood. Like fire lanes in the forest to prevent the spread of conflagrations, so are frontiers; they keep a war from spreading into a world war. If the fire lanes are broad and clean, no fire can grow into a conflagration. An era of city commonwealths is never militaristic. When citizens have in their own hands the diplomatic and the war-declaring machinery, they settle disputes by amicable processes. During the nearly five hundred years of their existence, the Hanseatic League of Free Cities did not once draw the sword in aggression. But under Bismarck the Germans apostatized to the prince of this world. Then, from the most pacific of peoples, they became the swaggerer. Here is a letter written from Franlcfort-on- the-Main in 1867: "Until last year this city, as well as many others, including Hamburg, Mayence, Wiesbaden, Homburg, were entirely separate from the Prussian territory. Certain of the cities were free, and others be- longed to httle duchies. Last summer Prussia gobbled up all the Httle fellows and sent their governments to the four winds. Deep is the feeling of resentment. Frank- fort has been a free city for hundreds of years; and now, to be made a mere speck on the map, is not agreeable. Bismarck is universally hated among the Frankfurters." It will be objected that the Free City, whilst an exalted ideaHsm, is too ethereal for life's hurly-burly; municipality 18 THE FREE CITY needs to swell into nationality, because mere size is an asset in the struggle for existence in this cock-pit called Earth. Yes. And city commonwealths achieve size; but by the principle of federation, not by consolidation. The thirteen American colonies, federating, triumphed over the British Empire. Thirty-six years later, in the War of 1812, they fought that Empire again; but now they were a consohdated nation — and they were de- feated. Pohtical evolution does not mean that the small state shall grow into a big state, but that the small state shall grow ever more inteUigent, noble, and artistic. Evolution usually takes the form of a decrease in bulk and an increase in brains. The scale of ascending degrees is not from municipal into national; but from municipaUty into a federation of municipalities. That designs an elastic meshwork illimitable in its reach; and not to be broken, seeing that the parts are jointed by ligaments that are entirely flexible. The railroad and the telegraph have made possible now a world confederation, but should not be misused unto world consohdation, wherein localisms and refreshing diversity would be swallowed up in a world-wide intolerable sameness. Democracy is self-government. Nationalism is repre- sentative government. The two are separated by a cosmic diameter. Only an indifferent and docile folk will consent to representative government; and that pohtical form makes them ever more indifferent, ever more docile — a descensus avemo proceeding with progressive ac- celeration. In the purHeus of invisible diplomacy the Dark Forces nest themselves; whose silent depredations are hushed and horrible as a gas attack in the night. Downing Street, Wilhebnstrasse, Quai d'Orsay, State Department on Potomac banks — where you will — dip- lomacy under representative government is shrouded in THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 19 veils of inscrutabiKty. How wide a gulf sunders be- tween an imaginary democracy and an imaginative democracy! I hold that the travail and brow-sweat of mankind through generations of generations have established cer- tain masterful and basic principles; and that, of these, self-government is chief. At once I am deafened by moderns : * ' Self-government ! You mean that each munic- ipal grouping, in sovereign and primary assembly, shall have a pohtical status in questions of peace and war, and in accrediting ambassadors? But that would require all of us to be conversant with pubhc affairs and to partici- pate therein. Our private interests will not afford us leisure for engrossment in public interests. We prefer to have our governing done for us. We haven't time for self-government." Suppose an Athenian heard that. Would it not move him to an exclamatory burst: ''Haven't time for self- government! But, my dear sir, what else is time for? SeK-rulership is a heritage whose dignities are not to be alienated. Animals lead a private life; that is why they are animals. Humans are summoned to a public consciousness, to a joint magistracy and stewardship over the Commune. Think not that it is a cheap or trivial commodity, this prize of self-government that you are so Ustlessly throwing away. We ancients fought for it; at Thermopylse and Marathon, paid a price for it. It is the wellhead from which the world has derived civility, justice, self-command, beauty, letters, philosophy; all of the useful, all of the decorative arts. The citizen state is the organizer of fellowship into concrete reaUty — fellowship, whose mighty fire and scintillation is the principle of all existence, the radical plasm and essence of our being. 'Representative government!' Probably the most ig- 20 THE FREE CITY noble, sinister, and squalid of political forms! Private business has no business to get in the way of public busi- ness. You say you have no time for self-government; you cast it aside as a careless trifle, and devote yourself to life's bric-a-brac. Harken to one who speaks the hived wisdom of ten thousand vanished years: A people that takes time from self-government to give to other pursuits, will find in the day of their disillusionment that those other pursuits were not worth giving time to. Democracy is the dearest-valued gift vouchsafed of Heaven." The hmried and frowzy thing we moderns call Ufe, is not life, and will not long be even existence. The tor- rential times that are bursting upon the world apprize us that man was made for beauty, and will not be at rest until he rests in beauty. Nationality has supplanted municipaUty; the wild waste of years that have super- vened are landing us in a squat and earthy secularism. These bournes of mediocrity are not only unexhilarating, they are perilous. The soul of man is created for splen- dours. And when splendours are denied it, convulsions of the state are the pathologic admonitory symptoms. Nationahty is now in the saddle. And never were the members of mankind so at variance. The money power and the mob — two cats tied together by their tails and flung over a wash line. Black care is on the faces of the people. A sense of insecurity. Joy is become an alien. The present is a scheme of disunion. Fellowship is not on the increase. Greed is on the increase. And it is acting Uke the magnetic mountain in the Arabian Nights tale, that drew the nails and bolts from out the planks of the ship. There have been Dull Ages before this. But I doubt if any of them was more joyless than is ours. They were as bereft of fellowship as we. But at least it THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 21 was not a mechanistic joylessness to maintain which they had to devote anxious days and nights of sleepless care. They too had paralysis of the heart strings. But they were spared a huge materiahstic clutter that sits upon our bosoms hke a nightmare. They had their wars; but not the machine-made annihihstic thing we behold, when the mercantile cut-throatings ripen into military throat-cuttings. MateriaUsm is not justified of her children. The community state is a co-operative workshop. Good will and conciHation is the temper in which all of its doings are wrought. Instances that have a squint to the contrary will be found. Which is to say, a perfect municipal repubhc has never yet appeared. Only eternity will be long enough to bring perfection. The Luminous Ages differ from the Dull Ages, not in being luminous with an absolute illumination; but in being more bril- liant — and noticeably more brilhant — than the Dull Ages. The ferocious egoisms now rending the social fabric have got to be brought under. Nationahty cannot do it. And for a reason. The nation is as much too large as the individual is too small. The area of the state must be no wider than the individual can expand into and fill with his presence. Municipality is that area. It is the focal point where private interest and public interest coincide. In the community, we five and move and have our being. To serve her is in truest sense serving ourselves. The Free City is more than a city. It becomes a piety, a spiritual adventure, a mysticism; aye, a love story, for the feminine quahty of grace and lovehness is ever an accompaniment of communalistic fife, and for want of which in materiaUst modernity, womanhood is justly rebellious. MunicipaUty passes into a transcendental 22 THE FREE CITY region of thought. It formulates a metaphysic of the universe. Municipal communion is the incubator of genius. When a man turns from self-glorification to city-glorification, think you a small thing has happened? I tell you, that is the miracle of miracles, which, when it has arrived, brings all other miracles in its train. Thereby the ego is raised to a supernormal plane of being, taps new levels of energy, is capacitated beyond man's con- stitutional endowment. City worship is the rehgion that will make skepticism ridiculous. These times are inclined to kiss the lips of innovation. We hear much of a New Rehgion, New Thought, a New Church, a New Path. A restiveness not to be wondered at. Society, pining on so grievous a bed of sickness, turns to any doctor that holds out hope. Numerous are the new-fangled medicines being offered. Municipahty has this to recommend it: he is an old-fashioned doctor, has no patent medicines, no recipes or drugs of recent discovery, nothing but simples that have been long and and brilliantly tested. Experimental remedies — these curiously devised programs — do but heighten the dis- temper. Municipahty is the publisher of peace to a world that now has the smell of a slaughter house. In her liberal keeping all of the interests of Hfe are secure. Property is a false god. The populace is equally a false god. The Free City, taking them each by a hand, leads them in a single path to a common goal. It is the blend of material- ity and ideaUty. Nicely it tempers and balances the alloy as to those opposing ingredients. In small states rehgion flourishes; in big states it pines into a languish- ing death. An intercontinental federation of little repubhcs — there is the only poUtical form commensurate with the THE LIGHT OF GENIUS 23 totality of the human species. Because its one adaman- tine dogma is, The right to be different. Municipality is the categorical and Godly jurisprudence: a communion of Free Cities, present on all shores, comprehending all islands and all continents, conforming to all tongues and climates and topographies. A fellowship in liberal divers- ity encompassing the globe. CHAPTER III CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP THE city state snuggles into the landscape. It belongs to natural history. This fact is primary, quintessential; the rudiment from which all of the other facts take their form and texture. Of all the peoples that developed municipahty as their mode of the social union, the Greeks were the chiefest. In their Uterature and art they painted a picture to point the truth I am here proclaiming. It was the story of Giant Antaeus, son of Mother Earth. Mightiest of the mighty was he, so long as his feet were touching the ground; in mystic fashion the strength of the soil seeped up into his members like sap into a rooted oak. He had an enemy. In every encounter between the two, Antseus was the victor; the energies welling up into him from rock and turf and loam, put power into his ankle bones. One luckless day, however, that enemy learned the secret. Thereupon, in a wrestle, he manoeuvered so as to lift Antseus from the ground; and then easily conquered him. That parable enshrines the philosophy of city repub- lics; the cause of their security and the secret of their overthrow. Under barbarism, the city is sacrificed to the country. Under nationalism, the country is sacri- ficed to the city. Under municipalism, the two advance hand in hand. Orchard city, is a fit name for the citizen 24 CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 25 commonwealth in its perfection; rm-al metropolis: a mmiicipality of milk and honey. In this natural form of state, the farm articulates with the marketplace; so that countrjonan and townsman are not two separate classes, but the same man is both. A municipal fabric of state puts a world capital in the midst of every farming district. That metropoUs is reachable by the husbandmen from the fields round about; hke Cincinnatus, leaving his plow and giving himself to affairs of state, thence to return to his flocks and fields. It brings governorship within the competency of the handworker, expands him into a citizen of the world. In city commonwealths the ruling order is limited to the laboring and useful classes. At Athens, Solon directed that a man who did not work should be deprived of his poHtical rights. The Israel state insisted that every boy, whether the scion of wealthy parents or poor, should be bred to a trade. At Florence we find Dante, son of r?ches and leisure, apprenticing himself to the Apothecaries' Guild; seeing that no one but a mem- ber of some work guild could possess citizenly privileges. Moderns have the idea that the poetry of Nature found in the literature of Greece and Rome and in the Bible, is irrecoverable. Never again, say these, can we see wood- nymphs and water-nymphs, four-footed Pan of the forest and the piping reeds, cloud pillars by day and fire pillars guiding by night, the bm-ning bush, magi led by the beckoning star. This mythology belonged to the pagan view of hfe; a bewitchingly engaging view, fraught with all charm and loveliness; but one that can never be re- captured. Science has made these dreamings of the foretime forevermore impossible. Not a few of the finer spirits, feeling this loss, have uttered their lamentation. Listen to SchiUer, bemoaning the departed glory: 26 THE FREE CITY Man ascribed nobility to Nature; Rendered love unto the earth he trod. Everywhere his eye, illuminated, Saw the footprints of a god. Reft of life, the meadows lie deserted; Ne'er a Godhead can my fancy see. Ah! If only, of those living colors, Lingered yet the ghost with me! Wordsworth, wandering by the sea, meditated on the glories an Athenian would have beheld in that scene, glories withholden from his eyes: The world is too much with us; late and soon. Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature thai is ours. We have given our lives away, a sordid boon! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds thai will be howling at all hours, And are upgathered now like sleeping flowers — For this, for everything, we are out of tune. It moves •ws not. Great God! Fd rather be A pagan, suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. It is commonly supposed that we have lost that once- time intimacy with Nature, because we have discovered her to be a lifeless mechanism, governed by iron law. That is an inversion of the facts. We have "discovered" Nature to be a lifeless mechanism, because we lost that oneness with her that our ancient forbears enjoyed. Atheism is not a formulation of the mind. Atheism is a mode of Ufe; an alienation from our natural Mother CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 27 whence we derived, and on first-hand contact with whom, our spiritual health depends. Science had naught to do with the decay of faith. Science means exact knowledge. Think you it is impossible to know Nature with exacti- tude, be acquainted with her habits so as to predict all of her goings; and still cherish a blood relationship with her? The mentahty of her may be on a lower plane than ours. But is it not mentahty stiU? and is there not a form of consciousness that attaches to all being? Her emotional hfe may be less intense than ours. But it is emotion; a heartthrob trembling in every eventide, and a joy pulsating through all the jovial frame of the morning. When man gave up municipahty and its communal de- hghts, to roam the world in search of gain and private happiness, he left Natiu-e behind. Separating himself thus from her, he began to think he was of a different species from her. Insufferable prig, he fashioned out of his self-conceit a philosophy that assigned to him a su- perior genesis; a nativity quite other than from her loins. Thereupon he looked down upon her with top-loftiness. This glorification of himself bred in man the notion that he was free; by which he meant capriciousness, the power of private choice; whereas Nature^ poor thing! — is unfree, a mechanistic complex swayed by absolute unvarying law: "a lifeless mechanical array of inanimate forces." Darwinism arrives to prick that bubble. Evolution announces that we are not of a different order from Nature. She is our mother. Out of her strong and fecundating flanks we are sprung. In our lineaments we bear her ineffaceable image. Man is heir of all the zo- ological series. From the earHest filament that crys- taUizes in the prenatal germplasm, up through aquarian antics and bough-clasping grasp of the newborn infant, 28 THE FREE CITY and on to adulthood, we rehearse and epitomize Hfe's thundering procession up the ages. A man's biography is the world's history. We are related by ties of blood to all animals and all vegetables. The pagan world was poetic because it sensed this truth which evolution is now revealing to the tardy in- tellect. Those children of the soil felt the family kinship. Perceiving the footsteps of Nature through the realm of humankind, they in Kke manner perceived rudiments of human thought and emotion in all the realm of natural- kind. They anthropomorphised Nature, because they had naturahzed Anthropos. We read the writings of that day, wherein mountains bring forth, rivers have sons, fish of the sea become participators in the human drama, hills clap their hands for joy or some captain cries his "Stand still" to the rolling sun. And in superior fashion we smile at their childish naivete. We forget that they saw Nature thus in the hkeness of man, because they in similar fashion saw man in the likeness of Nature. The law of mechanical necessity, formulated now by science, is not a modern discovery. The Greeks knew it; per- ceive how large a place Fate — anangke — occupies in their Uterature. But they included man in that neces- sitarian scheme of things; they attempted no priggish distinction between the two orders. They staggered not at the idea of Nature as a phantasmagoria of forces act- ing like men; because they knew that man is in the same network of necessity, and acts on the same principle as do animals and cabbage. When you mechanicalize the human realm, you thereby humanize the mechanical realm. Nature was close to man, because the men of that day were so close to Nature. "Was it true" — some one asks — "that old myth- ological view of tilings?" Truth is that which works. CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 29 The pagan view of the universe worked. So long as it was retained, friendship and joy and artistic production were the product. Harmony of adjustment between man and Nature brings a condition known as blessedness. Modern man is seeking that adjustment by posing him- self in a stilted artificiality remote from Nature, and then wresting her forces into harmony with his artificial wishes, by appUed science. The ancients sought it by remaining close to Nature, whereby the needs of man were not greatly divergent from her normal supply of those needs. They got results. We are not getting results. They experienced blessedness. We, in om- neurasthenic higgledy-piggledy, are unblessed. We pooh-pooh the superstitions of the IsraeHtes, and boast of our nowaday hygiene. But scarcely shall be found in these times so rugged and rhythmic a set of heart valves as was the average among those hardy hill folk. We have erected x)urselves in a false and exposed posi- tion far from the sheltering arms of our Earth-mother. In so doing we have created a mass of wants, to supply which we puff and pant and sweat the Hvelong day. We have more quantum of commodities than had that classic world. But they had less need. And the leisure they thus gained over us, they employed in writing bibles and iliads, producing prodigies of worth and beauty so far above our fifth-rate competency that we do not even aspire to rival them. Socrates and his wife Xanthippe had but one cloak between them; so that in cold weather they had to take turns going out. Modernity is produc- ing overcoats in plenty. But is it producing Socratic spirits in plenty? They had griefs, yes. But these were not the haunting haggard perplexities and hint of impending dissolution, which nightmare the modern brain. Safe-folded in the strength of the hills, their hves had a 30 THE FREE CITY sure foundation. "They heal their griefs," said Homer; "for curable are the hearts of the noble." Children of Nature, naught could seriously harm them. I hold no brief for an act of nihihsm to be practised on applied science. I know that when man shall return to his home in the principle of community and its adoration of some spot of Nature, science will be no bar to a poet- izing intimacy with her as in that former day. Is only the antique astronomy poetic, and the Copernican system necessarily dull and prosaic? They thought of the sun as a charioteer driving his steeds across the heavens in diurnal journey. Now we know that the Earth-mother is the active agent in night-and-day's alternating sequence. She holds a lapfull of her offspring up to the sun for a few hours, to be kissed by the jocund orb. Then she gathers them back under her shielding wing; covering their eyes that they may sleep, as a hen covers her chickens. No possibility there for poetry? No material in that, to evoke in us a filial bearing towards the Great Mother whose broad and faithful bosom holds us, whose udders distended with milk nourish us? When city repubUcs appear again, we shall have a grander paganism than that which deified the Mediter- ranean world; because we shall have an ampler science to guide imagination's powerful pinions. The scientific spirit is not a product of modern commerciahsm. The impulse in its modem form originated in the municipal universities of the thirteenth century. Can a commercial- ized mind discover secrets from Nature? Pure science is ever the mark of an unworldly soul; one who is a pious child of Erda our mother, and who in the contemplation of her loveUness is content to let the world go by. To such devotees she imseals her mysteries, and to none other. Whenever a votary of science gets inoculated CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 31 with the germ of gain, instantly Nature is silent to that man. She averts her gaze from him; and her gathering frown darkens the eyes of him. From the Germans we were of late obtaining the chief- est fmid of science. And in that land, we saw, the small principality was preserved down to the middle of the nineteenth century; before she had backslided to the un- clean god of commercialism and a national polity of state. Athens of old was a municipal repubhc. And she pro- duced Aristotle, father of aU occidental scientists. The city state produced poetry; it also produced science. So far from a warfare betwixt these two, they are Siamese twins, ligatured indivisibly. In a more fitting place we shall see that the principle of municipaUty is the creator of that Godlikest faculty which, for want of a better name, we call imagination. The scientific use of the ima- gination is a first principle with all who would discover the modes and ongoings of Nature. A commercial age, by kiUing imagination, destroys poetry; and it also — were it to continue — would destroy science. Paganism is beUef in the miraculous. It is a religious attitude towards Nature; viewing her to be in nowise a dead insentient thing but a concourse of forces, thinking and feeUng and willing. Miracles are a restoration of harmony between man and this lower natural kingdom. The need for a miracle arises when, through some mis- understanding, there has come to pass an apathetic or belligerent relation between the two. When that apathy or beUigerency gives way to co-operation, it begets in man a sunburst of dehght. In his elation of rapture, he calls the event by the most superlative term in his vocab- ulary — miracle. Are miracles true? Truth is anything that imites man and Nature in sympathetic teamwork — what we call 32 THE FREE CITY felicity or blessedness. Miracles bring to pass that team- work. Therefore they are true. Science is a code and manual of the miraculous. It conducts innumerable ex- perimentations in the art of getting Nature and man to work together. The experiments that succeed are hsted and codified. And we call it, science. It doesn't matter, when man and Nature patch up a quarrel and lock elbows in amity, which of the two yield to the other. The Hegehan dialectic would declare that there had been a mutual adjustment. Monstrously false, the notion that there is antagonism between the Bible and paganism. Nature-poetry — be- hef in the miraculous — is ever an accompaniment of municipal commonwealths; because the municipal com- monwealth nestles into some nook of Nature and there acclimates itself. Runs the legend, that when Jesus was born, a shudder ran through the isles of Greece, and a cry was heard by fishermen : "Pan is dead!" The cry did go shuddering through the world at about that time. But not because of the birth of Jesus. It was because of the birth of the Roman Empire. Municipality gave us, and will always give us, the pagan-poetic. Material com- mercialism always destroys it. As that Empire extended its bleakness like the blackened ashes of a conflagration across the ancient world, the aforetime intimacy with Nature survived only in sheltered rustic nooks whither the new commercial spirit had not penetrated. In Latin, the word for a rural thing is paganus. Pagans were thus the "belated" folk who persisted in regarding the world in terms of the miraculous; whilst the "advanced " people, reclining amid wealth and ease, had left behind them those "antiquated" notions. Perceiving the loss that has resulted from overthrow- ing that old and true faith, there have been attempts to CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 33 revive paganism. Emperor Julian, probably the purest- hearted, highest-minded imperator that ever wore the Roman purple, gave his Hfe to such an endeavor. William Sharp attempted it with his New Pagan Review. Now there are choice spirits not a few, banding themselves in the same enterprise. Fiasco will be their fate. The poetic view of hfe is not a matter of individual wishings or wilhngs. It is a pohty of state. To seek to resurrect the shapes and colorings in which the Jews and Greeks and early Romans expressed their admiration of their landscape, is distinctly anti-pagan. Commerciahsm can borrow its poetry readymade; Paganism, never. Our times and scenic- settings are different from theirs. Let each grouping of people unite themselves with their plot of earth as did the classic people, and that ensemble of Nature will be vivified into a host of sentient beings, as in the classic era. Paganism — belief in the miraculous — is patriotism heated to the combustion point, whereupon it blazes up, and we call it poetry. Nations know not what true patriot- ism is; they are too big. As the area of one's affection enlarges, the intensity of that affection diminishes. Nations, perceiving that patriotism is in decay, have tried to galvanize it into action by statutes and incantations. Thus they have brought into ridicule the noblest senti- ment that can inhabit the human breast — a people's attachment to the soil they live upon. The Jerusalem state developed in its people an intense patriotism ; where- fore the Bible presents a pagan-poetic view of Nature, the most sustained of any literature. Palestine's hill country would not seem a favorable setting for man's poetizing faculty to work upon. But patriotism can, out of a bleak wilderness, image forth a Holy Land filled with glory^ That hill state took the gaunt crags of the Leba- 34 THE FREE CITY non Range and dignified them into a cupola of the world. Contrariwise, when patriotism perishes, the fairest realm on earth is accounted a rat hole. The Bible folk fitted snugly into vtheir landscape. Therefore they believed that the landscape fitted them. They were at one with the purposes of Nature in that spot; which is another way of saying, Nature was at one with their purposes. So they rapturously pictured the scenery as taking part in the human plan. The genius of the state — Jehovah was the name thereof — sum- moned all that wedge of earth to partake in the political program. The creatures in the subhuman world heeded that call of their marshalhng chieftain. FUes and Uce and darkness and frogs plagued Israel's enemies. The sea opened a path to Jewish feet. Sinai gave them counsel. A cloud was spread for their covering; and a fire gave them light. Was it true, this view of Nature as man's miraculous coadjutor? Yes; because it worked. It welded the most compact social union in perhaps all the story of man. It wrote a Book, to whose incomparable worth nineteen grateful centuries testify. And it built a city of God whose illumination has hghtened our dull world, and still lightens it. When the Persians overran Attica, the Athenians, rather than capitulate, took ship and lived o£f shore. During that exile came the season for their processional to the village of Eleusis; the stated Eleusinian Mysteries. Albeit the citizens were now absent from Athens, the city was not on that account bereft of inhabitants. For the Nature divinities were still there : Athena and her gUtter- ing host; and the spirits of the forefathers, thick-peopling the spot as an invisible nimbus. And now notice the miracle that happened — as related by her true-believ- ing historians. On the Eleusinian date, the processional CITY-WORSHIP LAYS HER BASIS DEEP 35 to Eleusis was not permitted to go by default. Those in- visible inhabiters of Athens formed themselves into a pilgrim band and marched thither. The proof of it is that the people on shipboard, straining their eyes in that direction to see what would happen, actually saw the dust clouds raised by the feet of the processioning host. A mere superstition, you say? the miracle never hap- pened; dust clouds raised by the wind — which is naught but gaseous matter in mechanical motion; and which the childish Athenians interpreted according to their ardent expectations. O bhnd, stoneblind modern! See you not that the "ardent expectation" was itself the miracle? Was it true, this procession by an invisible host? Most veraciously true. Is capable of pragmatic verification. A few months later those Athenians- left their ships, the enemy being now departed. And with gush of power, they built the Parthenon. I say unto you, anything that can build a Parthenon is true. And anything that builds dry-goods-box architecture, in the commerciaUzed ugli- ness we call modernity, is most positively untrue. The Unes of the Parthenon are true lines. Therefore they came from Godhead, who is the Lord of truth. The lines of dry-goods-box architecture are untrue lines. There- fore they came from the devil, that father of lies and lord of all unveracity. Why did not the Athenians, it may be asked, when their home site was thus desolated by an invading foe, go else- where? What! Leave Attica? Their life was inter- woven with her hills and brooks, her furrow fields and forests. These objects of Nature were not a stretch of dead territory. The hills were peopled with divinities. The brooks were water-nymphs; you could overhear them babbling — the arrant chatterboxes! The fields were a trencher plate on which Demeter and Ceres spread 36 THE FREE CITY fat viands. On the orchard trees, Pomona hung luscious fruit. Pan and his singing train vivified each woodland. Whilst above the AcropoUs hovered Athena the Protect- ress. Leave these? or surrender them into the sover- eignty of another? An Athenian would sooner have died a thousand deaths. For moderns it is difficult, suckled as we are in a cheap and trivial view of Nature, to reahze the intensity of patriotism wherewith citizens in a Free City cherish their homeland. That which we — so stupidly — call the "forces of nature," was to them a community of intel- ligences. Their political life was implicated with these subhuman but very sentient creatures. They consulted them. Wrought hand in hand with them. Athenians planted their grain with prayer; pruned their fruit trees with an invocation to Pomona. They carved the stone and hewed the beam of wood rehgiously. We shall see the communal workshops of India displaying this self- same naturalness of devotion. When patriotism localizes itself within the constricted boundaries of a small de- mocracy, it bursts into a flaming fire, whose other name is rehgion. Free Cities have no hankering after the territory of others. Their own terrain is so fraught with deeps be- low deeps and heights above heights, a kingdom inviting to endless exploration, that thoy have no eyes for covet- ing outside splendors. A national state, in contrast, is bitten constantly with land hunger. Commercial states expand horizontally, and are always getting into collision. Artistic states expand vertically; in that direction there are no coUidings. Nationalism is a migratory mania; a restiveness that is never content save when whizzing on wheels. Municipality goes to a different tune. It en- genders a temper of society wherein the bonnie purple CITY-WORSHIP LA^ HER BASIS DEEP 37 heather cladding the thin soil of a Scotland, seems love- lier than the Riviera; and all the sumac by the wayside is a burning bush. The Athenians never invaded Persia. But Persia was repeatedly trying to invade Athens. Small states are magnanimous in their foreign relations. Big states are narrow-hearted; with largeness of girth they display smallness of mind. The Athenians, with a few square miles to call their own, were content therewith as their world. Persia was so big that Cyrus boasted to Xeno- phon: "My father's empire is so large that people perish with cold at one extremity whilst they are suffocated with heat at the other.", Genius is a distillation from the strong herb of munic- ipaUty — Nature rushing up in man unto immeasurable power; opening within him unexpected geysers of capa- bility. Addressing ourselves to a swift reviewal of the past, we shall see that the city republic is the cradle of culture, nurse of liberal arts and civil law, fostering mother of whatsoever is lovely and of good report. CHAPTER IV WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC WHY is Rome so magical a name? She is not delectable for situation. Seven or eight vol- canic pimples — eruption on an otherwise flat and dreary campagna; washed by a narrow stream whose overflowings have been immemorially a terror. Something more than scenic accessories and stage setting went to the making of the drama known by those conjuring words, Roma Immortalis. Historians have given us the chron- icles of this town by the Tiber; without seeking a clue to the motor force behind those three thousand consecu- tive years of achievement. They have taken for granted the marvellousness of Roman character. And then they show the wonders it wrought. But it is the genesis of that primal fact we are in quest of. Great character will issue into great history. But how grew she the greatness of character? I find Rome's clue and secret in her religiousness. Re- ligion is nowadays a word of ill repilte. And for a reason. In the disintegration of society to-day, the individual has become the unit. So that by religion modem ears under- stand it to mean reUgious individuals. Religion intensi- fies whatsoever it touches. Tie it up with the ego, it makes that ego tenfold more egoistic. Much of the re- ligious energy of our day, therefore, tends to sunder the individual from the social mass, in a pursuit of private salvation. Small wonder that such a. spectacle excites 38 WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 39 the derision of the best and higher minds. But civic re- ligion is of another stripe. City-worship is the religion that is pure and undefiled, seeing that it keeps the ego subordinate to the commonweal. The private must serve the pubHc. When ego-interests bulk more im- portantly than communal interests, hell migrates to earth and takes up its visible habitation. By "religiousness" I use the word as the Romans used it : The investiture of the community with divine prerogatives. To the average reader, Rome suggests an association of ideas quite other than religious — power and law and empire, legions trampling with steel-shod feet, lust of dominion, pride of hfe, Lucullan feasts, iniquities cynical and immoderate. But these were the sproutings after she had ceased to be a municipahty and had gone off into an imperium. I am speaking of her when she was a city republic, nestling in her Latium coziness. In this her original and creative era, devotional intensity was the badge of all her being. Romulus was the chieftain of the band of shepherds who, driven from the Alban hills by a volcano, settled on the Palatine Hill. He was one of the great spiritual leaders of all time; a reHgious genius. (It is agreeable to remember that, in accepting these early chronicles of Rome, we are in line with the latest and most scientific history. That is not legendary lore. Mystical, yes; but of sound historicity.) The first thought of Romulus the Founder was to get into friendly relations with this new landscape. He well understood that the Tiber, with the hills and plain and grass and clouds and rain and dew round about, were not agglomerations of dead atoms; these were intelligences, with capacity to love you if you cherished them, or hate you, if you were indifferent to them. Seeking a mystic 40 THE FREE CITY union with these, Romulus first of all erected a shrine ; he began the ritual of democracy. We Americans, depart- ing from the precedent set by our long-ago forefathers, have lost the tradition of city-worship. We account only material considerations to be of consequence in the found- ing of a city. One will believe this to be an improvement, when Cincinnati and Baltimore and Denver surpass in grandeur Jerusalem and Rome and Athens; signalizing themselves in universal history as did those communes of the Mediterranean. Romulus and his fellow shepherds knew that if the com- munity they were founding was to go successfully, they must dedicate themselves. So they built a fire. And all of the people jumped across the flame; in order, as Coulanges interprets it, that they might be pure of every stain. Then arose a most solemn sohcitude — the city's awful and inviolate sanctity; whose other word is sover- eignty. A subject city, the rulership resident somewhere outside! that were an abdication of self-government, un- speakable affront to their manhood. In a commercial civihzation a city will barter away her freedom without a thought. In a divine civihzation a city that loses her sovereignty is held to be a disreputable place for human beings to inhabit. Romulus saw to it that the city which was to be called after his name should be a residence of reputable souls. He took a plow and carved a furrow around the city; marking thus her boundaries. That furrow was sacred. The sanctity attaching thus to frontiers, and seen later in the worship of the god Terminus, was most important in its influence on the patriotism of that people — civic patriotism, without which neither Rome nor any other community would have achieved the pinnacles of fame. That furrow was regarded with so dread a reverence that WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 41 no one, not even the Romans themselves, were permitted to step over it, in either direction. Some method had to be devised to permit entrance into the city, and exit. Therefore at certain places Romulus lifted the plow and carried it for a few feet. These gaps in the furrow were the gates; whence the name "portal," from portare, the places where the plow was "carried." Remus, brother of Romulus, in a moment of hurry or thoughtlessness, failed to go around and pass by the portal; he stepped across the furrow. To violate thus the sanctified frontier was a crime beyond atonement. Romulus killed him. In a city state, family ties are sacred. But the municipal tie is still more - sacred. If one's love to one's blood- brother gets in the way of one's love to the conamunity, the lesser love must yield. This reHgious attitude towards their plot of earth pene- trated everything the Romans did. Before the grain had reached the ear, the Roman cultivator had offered more than ten sacrifices. We see them each month go out under the sky and sing Jana Novella, the ancient hynm, as the new moon grew bright in the west. Every home was a temple. With the Roman, all of his actions were rites. Birth, the taking of the toga, marriage, and each recurring anniversary of these, were solemn acts of worship. Of Rome, Livy bore witness: "There is not a place in this city which is not impregnated with reUgion." The sacredness that attached to all other provinces of their life attached also to sex. "The soul, not the body, makes marriage eternal," said PubHus. Sex, more than any other department of man's Ufe, is the incitor to self- ishness. Municipahty is an organised crusade against selfishness. City states therefore always develop a high standard of sex moraHty. In the Jerusalem state no male infant could become a citizen except he be cir- 42 THE FREE CITY cumcised — the sign of sex discipline and renunciation even to the point of agony. Of Judaic citizenship it was the centrabnost ceremony; foreigners seeking entrance into that civic fellowship were compelled to undergo this rite. In Rome this consecration of sex went still more religiously. So much so, that if I were asked to name the most rehgious people in history, I should answer, the Romans; giving them the primacy here even over the Israehtes and their sacred Zion. St. Augustine affirms that among the Romans, in the procreative embrace and the generative rite, no less than four separate divine presences were invoked. At the wedding, a marriage hymn was sung by the guests in epithalamic choral, a prayer to the Great Mother, Generatrice. The nuptial chamber was beHeved to be filled with a crowd of deities. Religion presided, not only over the conception of a Roman child, but over the newborn infant. There was a goddess that especially protected cradles. And an- other, who milked out the breast to the Uttle one. It was not an accident that Rome developed as perhaps the cardinal fact of her ritual the Vestal Virgins. With so scrupulous a nicety was the immaculateness of the Vestals protected, if one of them fell from the covenant she had taken, it was prescribed by law that no execu- tioner could touch her even to put her to death. She was escorted into an underground vault. Beside her were placed a candle, water and bread. Then the en- trance was sealed up. Rome endured the Tajquins, until one of them violated the virtue of Lucretia. The specta- cle of a woman dishonored aroused the Roman citizenry. Tarquin and all his family were expelled. Rome never had another king. Horatio holding the bridge against the Tarquins attempting to return, is known of every schoolboy. WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 43 The other great political revolution there was caused likewise by a deed — no, it was but a desire — of in- continence. Rome's administration had fallen into the hands of a ruKng class. One of these turned desirous eyes on Virginia, the daughter of Virginius. Rather than see his daughter violated, and unable to protect her from the powerful oligarch, the father caught up a butcher's knife from a stall in the street near where the altercation was staged, and dug it into her bosom. It was the signal once more for an uprising against a ruUng set some of whose members had become thus lustfully inclined. For nearly two hundred years, not a case of divorce was known. Respect for wife and mother was rigidly en- forced. Because of the intensity of their city-worship, and of the discipline that the Romans imposed on themselves in consequence, the Romans became noted for the aus- terity of their morals. They were the Puritans of that day. "Noblest Roman of them all," pictures the awe- struck regard that the severe virtue of this people awoke among outsiders. The municipahty was everything. To it the individual bent his private inclinations with an obedience hard for moderns to imagine. What would people to-day say of a public officer specially chosen and set apart to inquire into public and private morals? Yet in Rome this office — the Censor, he was called — was one of the highest in the city, a post aspired to as the crown of a civic career. He could bar an elected official from office, on moral grounds. A part of the Censor's duty was to take an enumeration of the people; whence the term; "census." The census was for the purpose of assigning to each person in the state his share in sup- porting the civic structure. Men were prohibited from wearing silk. Women 44 THE FREE CITY could not wear a dress of more than one color. The number of guests one could invite to a dinner was limited, as also the amount to be spent in entertaining them. The maximum one could spend on a wedding or a funeral was fixed. The Lex Licinis sought to encourage a diet of garden products; it limited the amount of meat and fish one could eat. A Consular law passed not long after B.C. 161 forbade — on non-festal days — the serving of any fowl but a single hen, and that not fattened. The wearing of jewelry was Hmited. Also was fixed the price one could spend for furnitm*e, equipage and gravestones. Even as late as Caesar's time, guards were placed around the market to seize forbidden luxuries. Sometimes dishes were seized by officers of the law from the tables of the citizens. Writes Cato, of the self-denying code of that time: "Their custom was to be dressed in public respectably; at home, as much as was needful. They paid more for horses than for cooks. If a man appUed himself to con- viviaHty, he was called a vagabond." In their festival hours, said he, "it had been a custom of the forefathers, for those who recUned at banquets, to sing to the flute the praise and merits of illustrious heroes." The worthies of that day had small use for the mere rhetorician. Said Cato: "An orator, son Marcus, is a good man skilled in speech." And he added: "Grip the subject; words will follow." The austerity of such a code strikes a chill into softling modernity. But it struck no chill into the Romans. Their beds consisted of planks of wood covered with straw or leaves or moss. They saw no privation in such a life. To make their city rich, they themselves were content to be poor. That which one does in a devoted frame, he does joyfully. Sacrifice for Rome? They WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 45 would die for her, and with no wince of repining. In whatsoever a Roman did, it was felt that the fair name of the municipality was at stake. The municipality saw to it, therefore, that he did what was right. FideUty to engagements, self-mastery over the appetites, dutiful service, simpUcity of apparel, plain food, mercantile honor — these were enforced with penahtes; even to throwing from the Tarpeian Rock. In that era of strong implacable government, we hear not of murmurings. A pervasive contentment brooded over the people. In our times the individual has ten times the Hcense that a Roman had. And to-day insurgencies outroar the dungeons of the damned. A government strong enough to govern everybody in the state, is free- dom. Only self-government — community government — is strong enough for that task. The absence of government to-day is separating society into rich and poor; upon whom the laws bear down unequally. There, the root of the complainings. The deepest hunger of the heart of man is for fellowship. Rome saw to it that upon all the population the laws put their just and equal pressure. We find Brutus the Elder ordering his sons to death, because of their un- faithfulness to the city; he standing by unmoved as their heads were struck from their shoulders. We are told of Dentatus, hero of three trimnphs, eating boiled turnips in his chimney corner, and scorning the gold of Macedonia. ManUus put his son to death for winning a victory contrary to orders: "DiscipUne is the secret of Roman success," explained the inflexible father. It seems to have been a custom among the Roman women to kiss, with a liberality that attracted the notice of people outside. Plutarch tries to explain the habit. 46 THE FREE CITY He remarks that Roman women were forbidden to drink wine; and suggests that the kissing custom may have arisen in that fact, in order to yield detection if any of them had broken the rule. Probably the surmise is wide of the mark. But the fact that Plutarch evolved such a guess, is eloquent of the wide reputation the Romans enjoyed, for discipline. So highly did Rome exalt the importance and rights of society, it was by law permitted to kill any man who might be suspected of wishing to become king. Formerly the Roman calendar began with March. The evidence of that is still visible in our names of the months. September, "Seventh Month," is the seventh from March; and likewise with "October," "November," "December." But March was Mars' month; Mars, god of war. When Rome was a city commonwealth, she was not miUtary. Therefore — as is evident — they felt that to begin the year with a month dedicated to the war-god, was attaching to him a quite excessive praise. So they made the year begin with January; named from Janus, the patron deity of civilian life. Legend says that Janus on his arrival in Italy had put the people into conmion- wealths. To this patron of peace and husbandry, there- fore, the Romans gave the place of honor in their calendar. The Pantheon, built in this her municipal period, was Rome's symbol of fraternity with and hospitaUty towards the civic deities of other states that joined themselves to Rome's ItaUan federation. To the extent that a people adore their own square of territory, they will respect the territorial possessions of others. The affection of this people for their landscape is mir- rored in the speech of Camillus when it was proposed, after Rome lay in ashes as the result of hostile invasion, to give up that site and move elsewhere: "Romans, WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 47 what an act of impiety we are about to perpetrate! We are in possession of a city built under the direction of auspices and auguries; in which there is not a spot but is full of gods and religious rites. All these do ye intend, Romans, to forsake? Has our native soil so slight a hold on our affections; and this earth which we call om* Mother? or does our love for our country extend no further than the surface?" livy, reporting his speech, adds: "Camillus is said to have affected them much by other parts of his discourse, but particularly by that which re- lated to reUgious matters." Four centuries of this devotion and frugahty — private plainness and public magnificence — wrought their work. Romans stretched head and shoulders above the type of people round about. The citizenship of her men and women became one of the wonders of the world. To be known as a Roman was to be known as one aflame with municipal ardor, of fierce patriotism, proud of one's city with a consuming pride, exacting in the moral code imposed on oneself; in bartering, just; concerning ad- herance to contracts, trustworthy; stoic in physical endurance; disdainful of luxuries; serving the state first. Her history thereafter was the uncoiling of the spring that had been wound up during those four hundred formative years. It had burned into the brains of that people the dogma that private happiness must be subordinated to conmiunity good. Happiness is an ego delectation. Joy is a communal delectation. Four centuries of life in a city state had won the Romans to prefer joy over happiness. Why did Rome cease to be a municipal commonwealth and degenerate into an empire? It was because her people got away from the soil. Founded by hill shep- herds, she long preserved this note of toil and simphcity. 48 THE FREE CITY Rome, first a sheepfold, became the center of an agri- cultm-al region. "The River Village," as the people called her, was a rural metropolis. The rugged honesty of her people attracted thither the farmers in the country- side to do their bartering. In her annals during this period we read of "cackling geese." One of her gates was named Cattle Gate. We see her women spinning and weaving wool in front of their houses; whilst along the street pass flocks of sheep and lowing herds. Each morning goats and cows were driven in from the surround- ing pastures and milked from door to door; a custom still discernible in those European cities that have conserved the naturalness and the local customs that make Europe picturesque. In the Rome of that day everybody worked. I men- tioned Athens and Jerusalem and Florence, in attesting that the city state is an industrial commonwealth. Rome is another witness. A bridge carpenter was called by them pontifex. So highly did Rome honor manual labor, that she made the "bridge-builder" her loftiest official: Pontifex Maximus, highest priest. In a theocratic state, to be supreme priest is to hold the most powerful of positions. So mighty is the racial resonance awakened even yet by that sacred bridge-building occupation, the Pope calls himself by that ancient handicraftsman: Pontiff. We shall see as these chapters advance that city- worship is ever a theocracy. To this people, Rome was their deity. Jupiter Capitolinus, was another way of saying: "An industrial and sovereign democracy, in- stituted by Heaven and divinely fostered." To this day tourists will observe that the road through the Roman Forum is the "Sacred Way," via sacra. Towards the end of the empire, the deification of the emperors declined WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 49 without doubt into a political deviee. But at the be- ginning it was not so. Rome was a theocratic society. The state was God in visible form; noblest object of endeavor and sacrifice. Claudian, when he called her ROMA DEA, Consort of Jupiter, mother of arts, Goddess Rome, was not employing the language of hyperbole. He cries out: "Rise, reverend Mother, coeval with the sky! Iron fate shall never master thee, till Nature changes her laws and rivers run backward." But what if the covenant be broken between man and this Nature world below, not by Nature changing her laws but by man departing from Nature? Claudian seems not to have perceived that possibiHty. The Romans after a time began to covet an existence devoid of work. Which means, being interpreted, an existence divorced from Nature. Work is the process whereby man and the landscape get into friendship with each other. Every child of Nature is a worker; has to be, in order to Uve. And every worker is a child of Nature. We have a contemporary document, testifying to this change from a natural civihzation over into a commercial civiUzation. Cato, in his treatise on Agriculture, pic- tures the Romans of this transition period leaving the soil, congregating in the urban centers as absentee landlords, and driving the laborers with harsh exactions. Servitude is beginning to appear; the "family," in Cato's use of the term, being a midway step apparently from the free labor of the former period into the slavery that did all the work in Rome when the decadence had got well under way. Cato is laying down a manual for the overseer of one of these absentee farm-estates: "These shall be the bailiff's duties. He shall keep good discipUne. The hoHdays must be observed. The family is not to suffer, to be cold, to be hungry. He is to 50 THE FREE CITY keep it busy, as thus he will more easily restrain it from mischief and thieving. The bailiff must not be a saun- terer; he must always be sober; he must not go out to dinner. He must square accounts with his master often. The mechanic, the hirehng, the sharpener of tools, he must never keep more than a day. He should know how to do every farm task, and should do it often. If he does this, he will know what is in the minds of the family, and they will work more contentedly. He should be the first to get up and the last to go to bed; should see that the house is locked up, that each is sleeping where he be- longs, and that the cattle are fed." There and then, the decline of Rome set in. When a man is a worker, half of his deHght is in producing, and the other haK in consuming. When the productive side is lacking, all a man's deHght is to consume. Luxuri- ousness is the consequence. There developed in Rome an idler class; among whom the art of consuming wealth got to be a specialty. To satisfy the luxurious appetites of the rich, aggressions on neighboring states began. MiU- tary force supplanted civihan control. And now The Commune is at an end. Fierce egoisms, kept under when the municipahty was all and in all, lift themselves like snake-haired furies. We see Marius and Sulla tearing the repubhc to pieces for their own greatness. Out of a clashing of egoisms, one ego is sure to emerge, iron-heeled, heavy-fisted. An emperor arises on the ruins of the re- public. Ovid has to admit that Astrea, goddess of truth and innocency, has departed: terras astrea reliquit. Democracy is at an end. Autocracy has begun. But so resplendent a fight could not entirely be dimmed. In the Roman Cathofic Church, the Rome of the early primal splendor fived on, and stiU fives. The torch held aloft by that Church has not always burned with a clear WHEN ROME WAS A REPUBLIC 51 and smokeless flame. But she has been the most con- secutive spiritual tradition that has illumined Earth's dark and dingy time-field. During her imperial cen- turies Rome was the mistress of the world; so that the streams both of Attica and of Israel emptied into the ItaUan flood. So the Roman Church caught up into her ample bosom the spirit of beauty from Athens and from Judea the spirit of righteousness. But her roots are Roman. Her tongue is Latin; the language that has given us our greatly spiritual words: patriotism, father, mother, citizenship, civics, city, civihzation, piety, com- munion, sanctity, art, grace, justice, municipaUty, sacra- ment, equity, redeemer, humankind, rehgion — a muster well nigh without end. As to many a count in the indictment against her, the Roman Catholic Church is culpable; her own historians concede it. But on one point she has not been culpable. Steadfast, as when the bright shining of a candle giveth hght, she has kept alive in the world a glow of spiritual- mindedness. At this moment, when the muddy tides of secularism are threatening to inundate all things with their sHme, reducing the high colorings of civihzation to grime and flatness, she is the chiefest breakwater. Herein the Roman Church is proving herself to be the lineal de- scendant of the most theocratic city state that ever kissed our planet into glory. CHAPTER V ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP ALL Greece is not so large as the State of Pennsyl- vania. And in the classic age, little Greece was divided into more than a dozen sovereign state- hoods. There is the clue to Grecian history — and Grecian greatness. Conditions would have permitted nationhood instead of cityhood, had the Greeks been willing to surrender their citizenly character. The Greek race composed one racial unit, of one speech and stock, more truly than the population of the American nation composes one racial unit. Homer speaks of "Hellas," meaning all Greece. He mentions the "Hellenes," as the general group of which the municipal communities were parts. Conceivably this Hellas might have been the political formation. But the Greeks were citizens rather than nationalists; metropolitan, not cosmopolitan. Said Aristotle: "The greatest state is not where popula- tion is most numerous." The Greek culture is civic. Her genius is municipal. They regarded the city state as the highest form of political Ufe. So they developed a civilization that is the wonder and the envy of all culti- vated minds. The Greeks held to the polity of small states, because they so dearly prized self-government. They knew that this thing so grandiloquently called "representative gov- ernment" is but a high-swelling phrase to cover up eva- 52 ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 53 sion of their public duties by the people; an excuse for egoistic absorption in the pursuit of private happiness. In that day there were abnormal individuals who were lacking in citizenly interest. "Idiot" was the term they applied to such. It was a technical term. It meant, engrossment by a person in his private affairs, to the forgetfulness of his duties to the state; still seen in our word "idiosyncrasy," "that which individuahzes." The pathological extension of the term in our day is scientifically correct. Visitors to an idiot asylum are informed that the determining test of an idiot is persistent egoism; his want of interest in the social union. The Greek writers on poUtical science accepted the city state as the normal form. They did not greatly argue this; they took it for granted. They believed that all right-minded people will wish self-government; be- cause only under self-government do pubHc-minded people appear and selfishness is repressed. Had Aristotle been told that a people would arise called the American nation, ninety-nine per cent of whom would be "idiots" — that is, their minds chiefly engaged with private affairs — he would have refused to let such a prophecy enter his ear channels; would have regarded it as a degradation im- possible to the human species. He beUeved that man is so naturally noble as to crave a personal and direct participation in the shaping of his destiny. So in his "PoUtics" he treats only of municipal states. Repre- sentative government, that seduction to all sloth and aU selfishness, he put out of his mind. Attica, of which Athens was the city-center, was thirty miles from east to west. America is three thousand miles from east to west. The Athenians beheved that the state should be small in order that the people might be great. An Athenian was a whale in a tiny sea. An American is 5i THE FREE CITY a minnow in an ocean. Well did they understand this relation between greatness in the people and smallness of the governmental aggregate. Said Aristotle: "Ten thousand people are too few for a state, and a hundred thousand are too many"; an exaggeration of statement, doubtless; but it was spoken by perhaps the most mas- terly intelUgence that ever concerned itself with poUtical science. The following is the size he laid down as large enough for a free and independent statehood: "When several villages are united in a single community perfect and large enough to be nearly or quite self-sufficing." Small states make great peoples; because only in small states can the people conduct their own affairs, with no intermediary to deflect their will or narcotize their citizenly spirit into slumber. Democracy is the mother of the entire sisterhood of virtues; begetter of strength, fountain of the arts, parent of all the nobilities that embellish and fructify the world. Democracy is self-government; and is found therefore only in small states. The word comes from Athens. Her people — the demos — could enjoy a personal par- ticipation in government only when the poUtical aggre- gate was small in its geographical area. The founders of the American nation were candid to admit that, in de- stroying the thirteen local sovereignties and setting up a centralized power, they were leaving democracy behind. Said the Federalist, in Paper No. 14: "The natural hmit of a democracy is that distance from the central point which will but just permit the most remote citizens to assemble as often as their public functions demand." Self-subsistence, which is the irreducible minimum, is also, according to Aristotle, the maximum; any increase of size being then a departure from democracy into some other poUtical form. Representative government is ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 55 government by politicians. Athens would have nothing to do with politicians. She had no poUtical parties. On current questions when they arose, the people divided into opposing groups; but there was no permanency in these alignments. A tribe of professional poHticians, or a civil service separate from the body of the people — Athens refused to accept so imcivic a posture of affairs. Athens was a commune. The state owned the land, the mines, the harbors, the theatres — and the people. And the scheme worked. When the state is large, any extension of governmental activity builds a bureaucracy, and chloroforms the populace. When the state is small, extension of governmental activity is fellowship, co- operation; because then the state is but the individual raised to his Nth power. Athens farmed out her mines to contractors in perpetuity, for a fixed sum. It was her public ownership of the silver mines at Laurium that gave Athens the money wherewith to fight the Persians; and helped to build the public works that stand to this day in monumental splendor. "A fountain of silver," was the exultant epithet bestowed by ^Eschylus on that state- owned silver mine at Laurium. Her other properties, the commune rented out; mostly in annual leases. Once some private parties got into the habit of going down to the docks at Piraeus and buying up a cargo of grain, thus monopolizing the food supply. The state forestalled these forestallers; built publicly-owned warehouses for storing grain, and for retaihng it to the people at cost. The money of orphans was managed for them by the state. In Athens, public affairs were numerous, and private affairs were few. That is the secret of Athenian great- ness. Aristotle said it is the secret of all greatness. The one problem before the human race, said he, is so to dis- 56 THE FREE CITY pose the higher natures that they shall be unwilHng to aggrandize themselves, and the lower natures that they shall be unable to aggrandize themselves. Athens did much for her people. In return she asked her people to do much for her. She made large claims on their devo- tion. Said Plato: "The children belong less to their parents than to the city." And Aristotle was even more emphatic: "No one should think he belongs to himself; all belong to the state." Because the commune was thus the principal property owner, Athens had a Fortunatus wallet supplying all her necessities. How this opulence was expended, her public monuments testify. Wealth was owned by the city; and therefore was used to glorify the city. Pericles for- mulated this into a set poHcy: "Wealth should be laid out on such works as would be eternal monuments of her glory, and which during their execution would diffuse a universal plenty. For, as so many kinds of labor and such a variety of instruments and materials were req- uisite to these undertakings, every art would be exerted; almost the whole city would be in pay, and at the same time both adorned and supported by herself." A fear is expressed nowadays that democracy means a flattening of life down into economic materiahty, wherein beauty and color and the graces that polish om* existence would be extinguished. A nationalistic fabric makes in that direction — the cold impersonahty of a government administered by bm-eaucrats. Athens was not a bureau- cracy; she was a democracy. Not only her legislation, but her executive, judicial, and ambassadorial affairs were administered by the people in direct assembly. There was no parhament, no congress, no cabinet. In that sovereign and free assembly, all of the citizens were on an equal footing. To it belonged cobblers, horse-shoers, ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 57 ship carpenters, metal smiths. But, so far from dragging the polity of state down to a bread-and-butter level, her public program was more continuously sustained on a plane of sentiment and ideality than has elsewhere been seen since the beginning of days. Municipality is the guardian of culture, depository of freedom and splendor, wellspring of delights. Commercially-minded moderns are inclined to rebuke Athens for what is deemed an excess of romance and poetry. Cunningham takes her to task for these "un- remunerative " pubHc works. Says he: "The Hues on which the energies and enterprises of the citizens were directed by Pericles were not those which favored the permanent prosperity of the industrial and commercial life of the city. The works of Pericles served no economic purpose but that of display." "Display!" All art is naught but the habit of and proficiency in display. To express the soul in visible form — is it not quite the choicest and praiseworthiest of instincts? The world as a whole, the planets and all the scheme of things entire — I deem it but an attempt at artistic self-expression on the part of The Absolute; God's mania and lust of ostentation. The Phoenicians were exactly what Cun- ningham would seem most to admire. The factories of Tyre sang the song of gain. Her colonies were for pur- poses of commerce. Tyrian merchandise floated on every known sea. And behold her, sordid, unrememberable; crumbled into a mound of sifting sand. At Lake Maoris in Egypt, slave labor toiled at "remunerative" tasks; to reclaim tillable areas. Does Lake Maoris stand as a name to conjure with? Athens gave herself to civic art; and has haunted all subsequent history. Athenians had poHtical genius. They knew that in founding a state, sentiment is a utihty. By these "un- 58 THE FREE CITY remunerative" works wherewith she decked herself, there was wrought in the breasts of her people a feeling for the city. They were moved to eager fidehties, glad self-effacement. Municipal interests bulked larger than ego interests. They were tethered to the state by an impalpable cordage. Let a hint be whispered that Athens was in danger, mothers gave their sons to die for her with joy. Impressing a soldiery by forced draught would have been accounted a civic disgrace. In time of war her men were in the battle front as the rock on which their city was founded. Witness the buffet they dealt to the pride of Darius; at Marathon a handful of them put the fear of their God into all the satraps of Persia. And in time of peace, their self-devotion took no hoUday. These folk of Attica had weighed the value of material possession divorced from spiritual aims, and found it wanting. What signifies a world full of wealth, if the heart be full of woe? The Midas parable was their ex- pression of the worthlessness of mere money-riches. Granted the gift of turning whatsoever he touched into gold, Midas went about using the power: turned house and furniture and chariot into shiny 24-karat metal. He became hungry; lo, the food he touched turned into gold. He grasped a goblet of water; the Uquid turned to gold. In anguish he clasped his child to him; the child trans- formed into a statue of gold. On his bended knees, Midas besought high heaven to remove from him the cursed gift. Better to be embowered in fellowship, with labor and privations, than imprisoned in a golden hell. Athens had no wealthy class; no set comparable to the monarchs of Mesopotamia, the merchants of Phoenicia, or the Carthaginian magnates. But she had a wealthier wealth — the sacrificial service of her people. Adorning ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 59 her with the pinnacles of fame and strength and im- mortality, they subordinated all things to mmiicipal suc- cess. The city was their freehold. With ministerial devotion they lived for her and wrought for her. A living wellhead was with them, out of which they drank blessed- ness every minute. Domestic simplicity and communal magnificence — this was the miracle the Athenians gave to the world. Pericles in his oration over the dead bodies of those fallen in a war, is classic in his description of the type of man begotten by the principle of municipality: "We regard a man who takes no interest in public affairs, not as indolent but as good-for-nothing; and if few of us are originators, we are all sound judges of a poHcy. The great impediment to action is, in our opinion, not dis- cussion but the want of that knowledge which is gained by discussion preparatory to action. We have a pecuUar power of thinking before we act; and of acting, too. Whereas other men are courageous upon ignorance, but hesitate upon reflection. They are surely the bravest spirits who, having the clearest sense both of the pains and pleasures of Ufe, do not on that account shrink from danger." "Such," said he in closing, "is the city for whose sake these men nobly fought and died; they could not bear the thought that she might be taken from them. And every one of us who survives should gladly toil on her behalf. I have dwelt upon the greatness of Athens be- cause I want to show you that we are contending for a higher prize than those who enjoy none of these privileges. I would have you day by day fix your eyes upon the great- ness of Athens, until you become filled with the devo- tion of her. And when you are impressed by the spectacle of her glory, reflect that this state has been acquired by 60 THE FREE CITY men who knew their duty and had the courage to do it. The sacrifice which they collectively made was repaid to them. They received a praise which grows not old; and the noblest of sepulchres — I speak not of that in which their remains are laid, but of that in which their glory survives." True. But it was not the whole truth. The fanatical attachment of Athenians to their city was deeper than Pericles and his generation perceived. He Uved in an age of culmination. The fifty-year period of splendor known by his name was the outflowering of roots long pre- paring. That popular devotion had not been achieved by appeals to their reason. Logic of the intellect is like sunshine in winter; clear, but freezing. Athens owed her greatness, not to citizenship, but to the religion of citizenship. Religion made Rome great. It was religion also that made Athens great. Xenophon informs us that Athens had more religious festivals than any other of the Greek states. Her name derived from her patron deity, Pallas Athena. Athens was a theocracy; she regarded herself as the corporeal manifestation of an unseen presence, who was the Protectress of the city, and Whom in turn the city aided and defended. The AcropoHs was an altar- rock. Atop it stood the temple of Athena, which was also the state capitol. There was no distinction between church and state. A rehgion independent of statehood, and capable of existing if the state disappeared! Atheni- ans would have scorned a rehgion so anemic and un- citizenly. It has remained for moderns to achieve the discovery of sacred things as a department of life divorced from secular things; a population bifurcated into rain- bow-chasers and denizens of the dungliill; mooners and muckers. In Athens, an ideahst was not content until ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 61 his idealism had got harnessed up to actuaHty. And the actualists were uneasy until their actuahty was leavened by idealism's yeasty ferment. None but the theocratic eras have produced art. Theocracy means, The union of reUgion and worldliness. It is the joining of ideaUty and materiality. But that conjunction is art — invisibilities emblemed forth and taking physical embodiment. In Attica there was no set-apart priestly class. The father was priest in his family; and the chief magistrate was priest in the state. The secular life was shot through with sanctities. In the public assembly the people re- ceived and despatched embassies, heard reports from generals in the field, decided peace and war, legislated for and administered the state. Whenever a speaker mounted the tribune to address the assembly, he first waited while, over the silent mass of people, a prayer was offered. No one was supposed to speak unless he first had invoked the Unseen. Life in the countryside was a round of invocation. Plowing, seedtime, flowering time and vintage — every part of the husbandman's fife was accompanied with worship. Men went about their daily tasks reciting sacred hymns. The Confederations or Amphictyonies, which united the city states of Greece for common tasks, were as much rehgious as political. The Amphictyony of Thermopylae was an Association for offering in the temple there a united worship. Its members met at that shrine in a federal festival; to eat together the common meal, offer prayers, sing hymns, and witness sacred plays. This municipal republic of Attica was a part of the natural world. She had PenteHcus to give her marble; the blossoms of Hymettus, for honey; the Attic plain, for furrow-fat; the forests on the slopes of Thessaly, for shipbuilding; and the city-center, Athens, for connection 62 THE FREE CITY with the outside world. The oUve tree is a specialty in Attica. It was accounted a gift to her people from Athena herself. And to this day the oUve branch is the symbol of fellowship and peaceable incUnations. Megara, her next-door neighbor, gave Athens trouble. And what did Athens? She submitted the dispute to arbitration. The Athenians had all the expanse of heaven to swell up into. Then how could they covet the land of others? In com- parison with other landscapes, Attica does not shine. The soil is thin. The north wind prevails during much of the year; so that we see Boreas portrayed in their carvings as a bearded imcouth man roughly dressed. The dust clouds in summer are grievous to the lungs, and breed eye troubles. Nevertheless the Athenians thought no other spot could compare with theirs. The picture of this people presented by Euripides presents them "ever walking gracefully through the most luminous ether." Pindar calls Athens "the violet-crowned." Sophocles sings of her "brightly-shining shores." So attached were they to their soil, they deified it. Their adoration of Nature was not an affair of verse- making and the weaving of epithets — poems to the buttercup and the asphodel. It mounted into a worship. They were not content with Odes To Springtime. Spring- tide was to them a very ecstasy; with a Dionysiac festival they welcomed her. The fructifying field was deemed a company of spirits; so they erected a temple to Demeter at Eleusis and paid torchlight processions thither. And when was come the summertime, the Panathenea made the day a rapture. That festival terminated in the sweep of all the citizens up the Propylea steps of the Acropolis to the shrine of the Virgin Goddess; which processional, Phidias carved into the frieze of the Parthe- non. In those happy days, sang Keats, ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 63 Holy were the haunted forest houghs; Holy the air, the water and the fire. The people felt a blood-kinship with the lily of the fields, with lark-notes descending from the blue, with the ca- thedral music of the sea, with the white marble streaking Pentelican Mount, with nesting birds in the hedgerow. Nearly all of the stamps on the coins of the earUest and best period are religious in their theme. Without the hovering Presence, Athenians could not work or play or eat. The statue of Pallas Athena in the center of the city was called from her name, the Palladium. So long as that was unviolated, and kept from enemy hands, she would continue her favor to her people. This is why home rule was with them a religious necessity. To let their city go into a mastership placed outside! it would have been deemed a sacrilege. Forever after, Pallas Athena would have averted her face from the recreant ones. From this, "palladium" has come to mean the test and guarantee of civic honor. Civic patriotism awoke in them a zest of civic freedom. And the unceas- ing struggle for freedom kept their citizenship vigilant. Sang Euripides: Had He not turned us in His hand, and thrust Our high things low, and shook our hills as dust, We had not been this splendor. This necessity to defend their municipal liberty wove bonds of beautiful communion betwixt the citizens. The dear companionship when neighbor joins neighbor in fending from invasion their common hearth, was a religious fellowship. Athens was more than an aggrega- tion of houses and fields. She was a transcendentaUsm. The citizens walked about in a meshwork of magnetic 64 THE FREE CITY threads floating invisible. It stirred in them rich-blooded resolutions; wrought them into a great-minded people, valorous and coveting much honor. Through their pious intimacies with Nature, they were a part of the cosmos; and through their participation in government, they were factors in universal history. It expanded them to Homeric size, gave them large habitual views where- with to meet all questions and all occasions. Said Pericles: "An Athenian citizen does not neglect the state because he takes care of his own household; and even those of us who are engaged in business have a very fair idea of poUtics." "A very fair idea of poh- tics!" The world has seen nothing to equal it since. The average citizen in Athens was wiser than the gov- ernor of an American state. Every citizen was a mem- ber of the Grand Committee. Their life was one round of intellectual excitement. Residence in Athens was a hberal education. They refused to accept the notion of orders and ranks of inteUigence. The Council of Five Hundred was chosen by lot; and every one, cobbler as well as philosopher, was expected to serve. Thus all were drawn into the vortex of stimulus and magisterial responsibiUty. The days and nights of even the com- monest folk were electric with mental provocation. It was as though earth had moved permanently into a mete- oric zone. "Nothing in overplus," was the Athenian motto. That is always the spirit of a municipal commonwealth. Athens was a church, a workshop, a home, a farm, a university, a fortress, a law-court, and a social club — rolled into one. These were not separated vocations, as in modem life. They were petals of the same flower, each petal receiving glory from the others, and contribut- ing its glory to the others. When life falls apart into ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 65 specialisms, God is hacked asunder. Socrates insisted that the Good, the Beautiful and the True are the same thing. "I say that Athens is the school of Greece," declared Pericles; "the individual Athenian in his own person seems to have the power of adapting himself to the most varied forms of action, with the utmost ver- satihty and grace. This is no passing and idle word, but truth and fact. We shall assuredly not be without wit- nesses; there are mighty monuments which will make us the wonder of this and succeeding ages." Yes; "truth and fact." To this day it is recognized that they are of the Athenian type who develop poise of spirit, serenity, an existence full-orbing itself into physical, mental and spiritual. Insane asylums to-day are in- creasing more rapidly than the population; because our life is departmental. Mania is always monomania, an engrossing interest in some one concernment, to the ex- clusion of life's other sides. The Athenians were not troubled with insane folk. They saw life steadily; they hved life totally. Athens was a collectivity — Briaireus, a colossal Person with one heart and a hundred hands. This union of the secular and the sacred engendered in the nerve plasm an awareness of totaUty; curbed all tendencies to excess; inflamed the aspirations of every man to achieve in himself a united and perfect whole. Daily contact with thinkers and poets and scholars in- fused through the industrial mass an ethereal fire. It worked their handicraft into an instinct of balance and fitness and taste. Pegasus became an ass with loaded paniers, to serve all the uses of life. The water jar, the door lintel, pots and cauldrons of the kitchen, garments, utensils, harness, and the vehicle — all were beautiful. So that to-day we dig up the debris of the common fife of that people, and build museums for cherishing it. 66 THE FREE CITY Athenians were not ascetic. Neither were they sen- sual. Sensuous is the road between; and this they fol- lowed. Pallas Athena was the virgin goddess; that surname, Pallas, being the Greek word meaning "maiden." Her temple, the Parthenon, was so named, because it meant "The Virgin's Chamber." The one other divinity accorded a place of honor on the AcropoUs was Artemis, the other virgin goddess in the ancient pantheon; known also as Diana the Huntress. This Artemis-Diana re- quired chaste cehbacy in her priests and priestesses. To her the Athenian girls sacrificed ceremonially their dolls and girlish toys before they were married. The Athenian cult developed no agonizing theology of individual sin, and redemption by the vicarious suffer- ings of another. They regarded the municipality as the subject of salvation. Morality means, a life organized communally, so that every part bears its due ratio to every other part; ratio, from which we get "rational," and "reason." Goodness is sweet reasonableness. Virtue is sense of proportion. They developed pubhc con- science, a sense of obligation to the commonwealth; and in so doing they found that they had developed private conscience as well. The cleansing of the Augean Stable symboUzed this. Hundreds of horses and cattle in that stable; and Hercules must cleanse it alone. Cleansing each stable individually, were clearly beyond his powers. So he turned through the stable a river flowing near that spot. Thus a large problem was tackled by a power equally large. And the scavenging was accomplished. The city state makes for self control, because it incul- cates into every pore of man the dogma that the claims of society must take precedence over individual desir- ings. A man can be as high as he wishes, provided the municipahty is higher. So the blood's blazing wildfire ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 67 is transmuted into altar flames. And the energies that hitherto went into egoistic amours, now well up like sap in a tree, and foliage forth into forms of art-creation. After the battle of Salamis and the departure of the Persians from Attica, the Athenians came back to find their city in ashes and the plain of Attica a ravaged waste. They had no roof to cover them, no tillage for their sus- tenance. We moderns, with our notion of beauty as something to be added only after a material surplus has been accumulated, would have counselled to works of "utiUty." But the Athenians refused to build for them- selves homes and comforts, whilst the municipal life lay in ruins. Living in shacks and huts, they set themselves first of all to adorn the Acropolis altar-rock. And now attend: for I know not in the story of man a mightier instance of competency of handiwork and nobihty of de- votion : Out of the ashes of their city they cleared a space — and within twenty years, the Parthenon was completed. Paul, visiting Athens, was impressed by this quality of devotion in the make-up of the people. With their liberahty of welcome to the outside world, the Athenians invited him to speak from their civic rostrum. He said: "Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are very reUgious." Paul never established a church in Attica. Because they already had a church. The public assembly of the citizens was called Ecclesia. Thence we get "ecclesiastical." Why then did Athens collapse? Because she and the other city states could not combine? But they could and did combine. As Persia found to her sorrow. The empire of Xerxes and Darius could not separate the Greek cities one from the other and conquer them separately, as it had done with the peoples in Syria and Asia Minor. They stood together — so long as they remained true 68 THE FREE CITY city republics. When the city of Rhodes was destroyed by an earthquake, the other cities in the Greek Confed- eration rebuilt her into her former magnificence. Athens fell, for the same reason that Rome fell — she got away from the soil, and from the rehgion of labor. In the early period, when her municipal strength was col- lecting, Hesiod had announced: "Gods and mortals are aUke indignant with the man who lives without toiUng. He is hke to the stingless drones; for they without labor- ing devour the product of the honey-bees' work." When Athenians lost contact with their landscape and began to huddle into the city away from the farmlands, she ceased to be a city state. Then slavery came in; Aspasias, and decadence. With Rome in the days of her early prime, and with Athens in the foretime, slavery had not existed. In Homer, slaves are not found. He pictures a princess of the palace driving a laundry cart to the river and washing the soiled linen. As slavery crept in, the city state went out; by which I mean, the desire for munic- ipal independence — they cannot exist together. As late as the time of Pericles, slavery had not become the terrible servitude we find later on. A contemporary of that era noticed that slaves in Athens could acquire a fortune and Uve in luxury. The slave was permitted perfect freedom of speech. And was protected by law against excesses by his master. In the Athens of that time, the status of a slave was probably better than that of a factory hand in the modem unimaginative mill. Euripides affii-ms: "One thing only disgraces a slave, and that is the name. In all other respects a slave, if he be good, is no worse than a freeman." But slavery is so mischievous an ill that even the name emits a pestilential breath. When labor in Athens became associated with a degraded class, the Commune was at an end. In ATHENIAN SELF-OWNERSHIP 69 fettering the workingclass, Athens forged the fetters about her own wrists and ankles. It was not long after, that the gold of Philip proved more eloquent with the Athenians than the silver-trumpeted pleadings of Demosthenes. The Russians are to-day probably our most artistic people; and the mir, or commune, is the true focus of their political Ufe. Russia got her civilization from Athens; or rather, from Constantinople, after the Greeks had fled thither on the irruption of the northern barbarians into the Grecian peninsula. Wheresoever the influence of Attica has penetrated, a sense of the beautiful has gone. The World-Spirit, seeking to form Athens into an oasis of permanency, that His name of fellowship and truth might have an enduring habitation, failed. The desert stretches of greed overran that pleasant spot. But the Uzard and the jackal and the seeping sands have not won a perfect triumph. Though the Attic commune, majestic with sovereignty, did not endure, the soul of her still abides. In her fallen estate she sits by the green waters of the ^gean, ruminating her antique imperish- able splendor. CHAPTER VI THE CITY SET ON A HILL THE Bible is Jerusalem's autobiography. From cover to cover, the religion of citizenship wrote the book. Certainly the book tells of God. But not of an abstract far-away Deity, or of a pantheistic God gaseously diffused through space. Those cobwebs of the modern brain were not a part of the mental composition of Mediterranean folk. That is why they were artists, and did exploits. The Jehovah told of in the Bible was the Near-one. He had a habitation, which habitation was his embodiment, his Alter Ego. That habitation was Jerusalem. This connection between Jehovah and Jerusalem is obscured by the order in which the books of the Bible are arranged. To the casual reader there seems to have passed a long stretch of time — all of the doings recorded in the earUer books, from Genesis to Joshua — during which the God-idea was present; and Jerusalem had not yet been founded. Modern scholarship, however, is showing that those supposedly earUer narratives are not earher. They were written during the Jerusalem era, and dated back into the past. The writers took the folklore traditions and wove them into a narrative; edit- ing the same from the reUgious viewpoint which munic- ipal life at Jerusalem had developed. Take Jerusalem away, you have cut from the Bible its 70 THE CITY SET ON A HILL 71 heart and spinal jelly. That diminishes not the high validity of the God-theme. The two cannot be demar- cated. Jehovah without Jerusalem for his home, was a thought as incomprehensible to the IsraeHtes as would have been the opposite thought of a Jerusalem without God for her indwelling and consecrating presence. Re- hgion as they understood it was a practical everyday affair; part and parcel of their political existence. The Bible is not a book of theology. It is a manual of citi- zenship, a textbook in pohtical science. The "saints" mentioned in its pages were as far as possible from the self-contemplative world-shunning type that is modernly associated with that word. In that day the saint was a dedicated citizen, more devoted to Jerusalem than the rest of the population, extraordinarily impassioned unto her freedom and renown. The IsraeHtes, formerly a nomad tribe in the deserts neighboring Egypt, had effected their release from that empire and under the leadership of a chieftain called Moses, had pushed north into Canaan. Here they settled, driving the PhiHstines out of that hill country downward to the seacoast. This expropriation of the PhiUstine has been held up against Israel by critics, as a ludicrous set-off to her claim of being the ethical pre- ceptor of mankind. But the Philistines themselves were interlopers; apparently having come from Cyprus not long before the coming of the Jews. There is not a people upon earth but is occupying a region originally pos- sessed by another. To raise the territorial question at this tardy date would open a morahty puzzle quite beyond disentanglement. The Jews traced a claim to Palestine through far-back ancestral inheritance. Whatever the vaUdity of this claim, the IsraeUtes thought that in pos- sessing themselves of this land they were re-entering a 72 THE FREE CITY family heritage from which they had departed only for a sojom-n in Egypt. David was the founder of Jerusalem, and the con- solidator of the Jewish state. The massive position he occupies in Hebrew thought, and in the imagination of mankind, is not extravagant. He had the municipal instinct. He was a city-builder. He had the genius to see that an agricultural folk, without a capital city free and sovereign, could never concentrate its life so as to be redeemed from rustic boorishness. Therefore he built a city up into which the countryside could rally as its administrative center, and through which in manly self- assertion it could take a place among the sovereignties of the earth. High up in a nest among the limestone crags, Jerusalem was established. "Zion" is now become a cant word, smacking of pietism and mental flabbiness. In the Bible, however, it was a poetic designation for the capital city; and thence, for the commonwealth as a whole. Zion meant "shiny." Jerusalem on its limestone summit, catching on her tower tops the first gUnt of the sunrise and preserving the sun- set after the surrounding valleys were in dusk, was a sparkling object in the landscape — the Shining City. The term caught the popular fancy. At first apparently a slang term, it finally got into hterary speech: "The Lord shall bless thee out of Zion; and thou shalt see the good of Jerusalem all thy days." Jerusalem the Shiny was radiant with more than a physical briUiance. To the Israehte it possessed a lumi- nosity mystical beyond all other objects in earth or sea or sky. This town was nothing less than the capital city of Lord God, the place where his honor dwelt and where his resplendence abided. "Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised, in the city of our God, in the moun- THE CITY SET ON A HILL 73 tain of his holiness. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion the city of the great King. Walk about Zion; mark ye well her bulwarks. For this God is our God, forever and ever." To the faithful Israelite the defense of Jerusalem's independent statehood and her upbuilding in majesty, became all his pohtics, all his religion. That mountain range would seem one of the last places in the world to covet as a homeland; ravines torrential in winter, dry and stony in summer. But to the patriotic Jew it was the center and garden of the world. The rose of Sharon, heifers and bulls in the pasture of Bashan, orchards of pomegranates, spikenard and calamus with all trees of frankincense, wells of living waters and streams from Lebanon, Jordan's reedy banks and fish of Capernaum — these were the song of the Israelite from this time for- ward. With the land's hard-won fatness for their nourish- ment, and with independent statehood as the sustenance of their soul, they were self-subsistent. So they coveted no neighbor's territory; stretched out no imperiahst armies and fleets. Their pacific incUnation seems to be suggested in the name they gave to their capital — Jerusalem, "City of Peace." Apparently the contrast between the peaceableness of Israel and the militarism of the nation-empires round about, occurred to the mind of Isaiah. In close juxtaposition he puts two pictures: "Every battle of the warrior is with confused noise and garments rolled in blood"; but unto us "the mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." The final act that closed the Jerusalem drama in a burst of power, her swan song as she was about to pass away, was ushered in with a pronouncement: "Peace on earth, goodwill to men." Like Athena unto the Attic commune, Jehovah was 74 THE FREE CITY the tutellary protector of the Jewish state; their gov- ernor in time of peace, the commander-in-chief of their army in time of war. Deborah pictures him marching as at the head of a troop: "Lord, when thou wentest out of Seir, when thou marchest out of the field of Edom, the earth trembled and the clouds dropped water." This divine Presence, on the field and in the council chamber of state, was symbolized by the ark of the covenant. It was to the Israelite what the palladium was to Athe- nians, a municipal amulet, image of civic personification. Jehovah had given to his people a set of communal rules and regulations: the Ten Commandments; en- graven on two tables of stone. He had made a covenant with them: If they would keep these laws, he the Lord would be their municipal Protector and Friend: "Blessed shalt thou be in the city, and blessed shalt thou be in the field. Blessed shall be the fruit of thy body, and the fruit of thy ground. Blessed shall be thy basket and thy store." The Jews accepted the compact. As a sign and seal of this agreement, the two tables were placed in a preciously wrought casket, with a pair of winged seraphs on the top, symboUzing the Spirit that would continue to brood over an obedient people. This casket was called the Ark of the Testimony, or of the Covenant. The installation of this palladium in Jerusalem was a first duty with David after founding the city. Like Romulus — with whom he was a close contemporary — David was a city-builder because he was a rehgious genius. With strong masculine sense he combined an insight into the psychological deeps of man. He had in- tuition that a city does not exist by bread alone, but by sentiment, prestige, all the powerful provinces of the imagination, whereby is evoked a citizenly attachment in the people, so that man-power is forthcoming unto the THE CITY SET ON A HILL ^ 73 city's every need. "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it; except the Lord keep the city, the watchmen waketh but in vain." Therefore "David prepared a place for the ark of God, and pitched for it a tent." Enemies were round about and walls were sorely needed to protect the infant city. But, as with the Athenians when they built the Parthenon for their Athena before they had houses for themselves, David's care went first to the mystic foundations on which Jeru- salem was to repose. "David gathered all Israel together to Jerusalem, to bring up the ark of the Lord imto his place which he had prepared for it." The installation of this Jehovah palladium within the Jerusalem enclosure was the birthday of the Jewish state. And, as it turned out, was one of the cardinal happenings in the history of the world. That ark enshrined the moral law. Therefore this deed estabhshed the Jewish commonwealth on an ethical basis. Moderns have dis- covered — as they suppose — that the social union can get along without religion; that obedience to law needs no transcendental sanctions, but can be enforced by the police power — dragoons, nightsticks, a secret service ramifying to every keyhole; courts and handcuffs and prison walls. For a little while yet, we will be permitted to^ bask in this pleasant theory. The spiritual power bequeathed to us by the municipal theocracies of Rome, Athens, and Jerusalem is not yet exhausted of its momentum. Whilst that borrowed inspiration continues, moderns can Uve without cultivating reUgious power of their own. David had no Bible to fall back upon; that book was not yet written. Roman law had not put its massive discipline on the impulses of mankind. Athenian art and science had not as yet radiated their sweetness and 76 THE FREE CITY light into the fibers of man. He had a mass of wild hu- man energies to handle. And he handled these untrained forces by the psychological rather than the zoological method; he wrought upon them from within, instead of by police power from without. Because he was thus re- Ugious in his approach to the problem, he built a city that was destined to long durations and mightiest grandeur. This sanctification of the city by formally establishing within her the ark of the covenant, made the Jews a theocratic municipaHty. From that moment their capital city was God's capital too. David seems to have had a sense of the historicity of the deed he was enacting. He panoplied the event with a ceremonial pageantry that shines from the recording page. The Jews now had of- ficially been committed to the principle of civic sov- ereignty based on righteousness and sanctioned by Jeho- vah. From that day the Hebrews have regarded David with an almost divine veneration. They called their capital, "The City of David." As time went on, his figure loomed with the proportions of a demigod. About a millenium later, when the populace in an ecstasy of de- votion to their leader Jesus sought a superlative title wherewith to glorify him, "Hosanna to the Son of David" was their appellation. In founding Jerusalem and committing Israel to an independent poUtical status, David had bequeathed to the Jews a stormy inheritance. Palestine was a buffer state. Egypt was on one side; Assyria on the other. Both claimed a suzerainty over her. It was a political hornet's nest. This act by David was Israel's declara- tion of independence. It threw down the gauntlet to Egypt and to Assyria; also to the Philistines still inhabit- ing portions of the land. From that time the Jews had a sore wrestle of an existence. Almost without hyperbole THE CITY SET ON A HILL 77 could she exclaim, "They that hate me without a cause are more than the hairs of my head." In addition to these three outside enemies, there was a fourth foe: the spirit of commerciaUsm that possessed many of the Jews themselves. The question is heard nowadays, Why are so many of the Hebrew race mer- cantilists? Through two thousand years of European history, wherever the Jews have gone, a goodly propor- tion of them have been retailers and brokers. The answer is found in Palestinian geography. Canaan lay square athwart the commercial highways of the ancient world. Between the Euphrates valley, which tapped all the East, and Eg3rpt, which was the emporium for the western world, the exchange of commodities passed. The route traversed Palestine diagonally, from northeast to southwest. Also the route from Arabia up to Damascus and Tyre was by way of Palestine, this' highroad running north and south. The traffic on these trade routes begot in hundreds of the Jews, and from earUest times, a ten- dency towards merchandising. Many of them sold sup- pUes to the passing caravans. Many also improved the opportunity to trade on their own account. On their journeys through Palestine the caravans had regular halting places, which became market towns. To these centers the commercial Jews would resort, exchanging fruits and grain and olive oil and wine for the merchandise of Egypt or of the East; which in turn they would retail. The sale of Joseph to a caravan on its way to Egypt, is photographic in the picture it paints of the trading spirit that was springing up. To this trend towards commercialism, Israel's inde- pendent statehood ran counter. Independence got the Jews into hostile relations with Egypt and Chaldea, thus hurting trade. In the opposite direction, trade and its 78 THE FREE CITY accumulation of private riches fattened the soul out of the Jews who were engaged in it, destroying in them the citizenly spirit and counselling to a surrender of Jewish independence. Thus her population sundered into two groups: the citizens — the "saints" — to whom Israel's civic freedom outweighed a thousand gains of money; and the traders, who appraised life in terms of securities negotiable for cash. The affair of the Golden Calf had to do with this clash of tendencies. Matthew Arnold coined the word "Philistine" to desig- nate people whose personality is duU and indistinct, soggy unaspiring creatures content only with material goods. Therein he showed a true instinct of history. The Philistines were of this brutish stripe. They waged no war against Egypt or Chaldea; they were satisfied to be under a suzerainty. To eat and sleep and breed was for them all the meaning of hfe; as we should express it to-day, "the full diimer pail." They chose comfortable slavery, rather than the straining wrestle for freedom. The commercial class in Israel wished to reduce the Jews also to a Philistine basis. Among the Philistines, God was an agricultural deity, a Baal whose only connection with the inhabiters of the land was to furnish harvests in great handfulls and provide fecundation for the herds and flocks. The Jews were largely herders. The cow was their principal means of subsistence. The Golden Calf was an attempt by the trader class among them to deify their daily bread; beatify the belly. The Philistines had no care for so elusive and troublesome a thing as municipal freedom; the god they worshipped was the purveyor of hides and milk and cheese. Why could not Israel accept the same kind of a religion? The Golden Calf was the emblem of this poHtical party in the Jewish state. The municipal party, on the other hand, would not THE CITY SET ON A HILL 79 worship Baal; they worshipped Jehovah. Jehovah's glory demanded that Jerusalem, his dwelling place, be a sovereign entity among the sovereignties of the earth. Says ".he prophet Micah: "All people will walk, everyone in the name of his god; and we will walk in the name of the Lord our God." It was political science Micah there was inculcating; the principle of municipal repubhcs, each sovereign and distinct, as opposed to the fusing principle of large commercial empires. Jerusalem as a free city was Jehovah arising into majesty. Practically the entire book of Psalms is a repetition of this theme. The ego that there speaks is scarcely ever an individual man bux the municipahty regarded as a moral person in feud with the empires roimd about or with the rich trader class within the state. When Jerusalem is great and free, Jehovah is in honor. When Jerusalem is under bondage, Jehovah is dishonored: "O God, the heathen are come into thine inheritance; they have laid Jerusalem on heaps. Help us, for the glory of thy name." The Ark of the Covenant and the Golden Calf consti- tuted the emblems of these opposing parties. Moses, coming down from Sinai with the Ten Commandments, for placing inside the Ark and so constitutLag the pal- ladium of Jewish statehood, hurled these tables to the ground when he saw the Calf and the people worshipping it. Beneath that folklore story, as beneath the poetry of the Greeks, lay an important significance. The ark- worship, with its municipal meaning, and the Calf- worship with its Phihstine materialist meaning, could not get on together. One of the two must give way. The Calf gave way. Municipahsm triumphed over com- merciaUsm. "Moses' anger waxed hot; and he took the Calf which they had made, and burnt it in the fire, and ground it to powder, and strowed it upon the water, and 80 THE FREE CITY made the children of Israel drink of it." Apparently it was more than a passing episode. It was a war to the knife between the two tendencies. We read, after the CaK was burnt: "There fell of the people that day about three thousand men." The Golden Calf is the emblem of those in all time who have everything to live with and nothing to Lve for. Those Calf-worshippers wished to dwell in material com- fort, with no Jerusalem capital and no Ark of the Cov- enant summoning them to statehood's hazardous ad- venture. Had they triumphed, there would have been no Jewish state, no Bible, no Jesus of GaUlee, no city of God set on a hill and irradiating the world. Israel would have melted down into and been absorbed by the peoples round about; a peasantry of herders, tributary \o Egjrpt or Chaldea. And the history of our planet would have been miserably impoverished. An agricultural region that is not a sovereign state is booked for decadence. The city in the midst thereof must be a world-capital; otherwise it is but a trading town, and the cultivators are robbed of self-rulership. Subject farmers, abject and contented, are of the Philistine type; they shall develop no moraUty, no literature, no art. They tread a down- ward path. Sovereign farmers, owning their square of territory and governing it with no dictation from outside, are of the Israel type. In order to catch the rural region up into the municipal current and safeguard the husbandry class from slumping into slouchiness, the Jewish law-givers devised three annual assembhes of the population at Jerusalem. The two principal ones, the Passover and the Feast of Booths, corresponded roughly with the spring and autumn po- sitions of the sun; celebrations of springtide joy and the Bunmier's harvest-home. The Feast of Pentecost, seven THE CITY SET ON A HILL 81 weeks after the Passover, was a sort of rest-time when the seed-sowing had been gotten through with and before the maturing crops would need attention. Every male, unless incapacitated by sickness or infirmity, was obliged to attend. Thus all parts of the country were made participators in affairs of state. There was no General Assembly, as in Athens; which met on an average every three weeks. But the Jewish state was a democracy none the less. Municipahty does not insist on any one formula of administrative head; can get along with a king, a duke, a president; a variety of forms. Its only insistence is that the area of the state be small enough so that the entire body of citizens can be frequently con- voked. Then the sovereignty of the people is assured. Israel was democracy-by-mass-meeting. The thrice- yearly assemblings of the masses were judgment days for those who were at the headship of affairs. There was no peasant class in Israel — those voiceless multitudes found in national forms of the social union, backwoods folk far removed from the capital. Every Jew was a citizen; and an active participator in the state. These festivals were not merely political; they were rehgious. The land was Jehovah's. The Jews were his guests. He wished his guests to have a good time. Joy was an integral part of the Jewish faith. Modernity, having lost the principle of collectivity, has lost the spirit of joy. So religion has come to have a sour prohibitory cast, a thing one would get along without if one dared. In a municipal repubUc, religion is a glad occupation, saturated with dancing and music and feasting. These poUtical festivals were termed "the set feasts of Jehovah." From all corners of the land the people gathered, journey- ing up to Jerusalem on foot in pilgrim bands, camping at night wheresoever darkness overtook them. Here is one 82 THE FREE CITY of the songs they used to sing on the journey: "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go unto the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is builded as a city that is com- pact together; whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, imto the testimony of Israel. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; they shall prosper that love thee. Peace be within thy walls and prosperity within thy palaces. For my brethren and companions' sakes I will now say. Peace be within thee. Because of the house of the Lord our God, I wiU seek thy good." At Jerusalem during a feast the streets and open places were crowded with tents, the encampment overflowing far into the suburbs. The Feast of Booths in September presents a picturesque scene — an entire people setting apart a week once a year for collectively camping out: "Ye shaU take the fruit of goodly trees, branches of palm trees, and boughs of thick trees, and willows of the brook; and ye shall rejoice before Jehovah your God seven days." "Ye shall rejoice"; the flowing hearty injunction of a Householder welcoming guests and insisting that they have a good time. This Supreme Owner of the land was — hke every true host — desirous that every one, even to the least of his guests, should share the good things. Jehovah was the guarantee of the rights of the common man. "When ye reap the harvest of your land," he commanded, "thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest; neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard. Thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger. I am the Master." And again: "The wages of him that is hired shall not abide with thee all night until the morning. Thou shalt not curse the deaf nor put a stumbling block THE CITY SET ON A HILL 83 before the blind. I am the Master." This common- wealth quality in Israel's political structure was mas- sively protected. Every seventh year was a Sabbatical year; during it the produce of the land was in common. The law further prescribed that seven Sabbatical years — that is, every fifty years — should constitute a Jubilee Year, when every member of the state who had been compelled to part with his land or his economic Uberty, must have it restored to him without price. The prophets — forthspeakers — were the mouth- pieces of Jehovah; and therefore, like the Tribunes in Rome, were the champions of "the multitude" against class selfishness by the richer folk. Wherefore, even under kings, Palestine was a repubhc. Republic means, the supremacy of the pubHc good over private gain. In this Jewish repubhc, Jehovah protected the lowly: "The Lord is known by the judgment which he ex- ecuteth. The needy shall not always be forgotten; the expectation of the poor shall not perish forever." There must be no gulf sundering the population into Haves and Have-nots: "If thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, then shalt thou call and the Lord shall answer." Patriotism is another word for locaUsm. Civic patri- otism is intense localism. Naaman, a stranger, fell in love with the Jewish state whilst on a visit to Palestine; wished thereafter to worship none other but the Pal- estinian Jehovah. But how to do so, upon leaving Pales- tine and returning to his home in Syria? After the following fashion he solved the problem: "And Naaman said. Shall there not then, I pray thee, be given to thy servant two mules' burden of earth? for thy servant will henceforth offer neither burnt offering nor sacrifice unto other gods, but unto the Lord." Civic patriotism is 84 THE FREE CITY patriotism heated to the steaming point. That steam is religion. It was the religion of the Bible; is the only virile vital rehgion. Paradoxical as it may seem, local- ism is the true universalism. All the wedges and seg- ments of the earth meet at the center. Israel in her peaceableness is an example of this law in poUtical science: The people who are most devoutly locaUzed in their af- fections, display a fraternal spirit toward all other home- cherishing peoples. The prophets, representing the reUgious as opposed to the trader instincts, were the spokesmen of this patriotic passion. They stood for Jerusalem's independent politi- cal status. "If ye forsake the Lord and serve strange gods, then he will do you hurt." Opposed to the prophets stood the rich commercial class, who were constantly seeking an imperial alliance with the wealthy set in neigh- boring states. This cohesion of wealth whereby patri- otism was forgotten in the lust to make common cause with the rich in other countries, finds a terse expression: "Now Jehosaphat had riches and honor in abundance — and joined affinity with Ahab"; Ahab being the monarch who was in aUiance with the merchant kingdom of Phoe- nicia. Jezebel, his wife, was a princess of the kingdom of Tyre and Sidon. EUjah's campaign against Jezebel reminds one of the trumpet-tongued Demosthenes plead- ing with the Athenians against a merger into the empire of Macedon. Of all these commercializers, Solomon was chief. He seems to have organized a mercantile department of state; something Uke the Doges of Venice or the Dutch East India Company. "The king [Solomon] had at sea a navy of Tarshish with the navy of Hiram [king of Tyre]. Once every three years came the navy of Tarshish, bring- ing gold and silver, ivory, apes, and peacocks." The THE CITY SET ON A HILL 85 "strange women" whom he married were women of the stranger nations romid about; commercial alliance was the end sought. "King Solomon loved many strange women; of the nations concerning which the Lord said unto the children of Israel, Ye shall not go in to them, neither shall they come in to you. His heart was not perfect with the Lord." It seems to modern-minded nationahsts a narrow policy the prophets were here enunciating. But history has justified them. "Ivory, apes, and peacocks" were not Palestine's contribution to mankind. An artistic conception of Ufe demands that each landscape bring forth after its kind; emblem forth its own flora and fauna; each landscape a different blossom, and content to be different; whereupon these differing blossoms, gathered into a bundle, will make planet Earth a nosegay for the Eternal. Any engrossment by the Jews in ivory, apes, and peacocks would have detracted from their interest in Palestinian products. Had Israel followed Solomon's lead and transformed itself into a broker of ivory, apes, and peacocks, she would have been engulfed by obUvion's hungry maw, as Tyre and Sidon were engulfed; as were engulfed the Hittites and the Philistines. The Jews made not that mistaken choice. When, in the person of Solomon's successor, this course of treason against Jehovah-of-Palestine was fixed as the permanent poUcy of state, ten of the twelve tribes — counties, as we would now caU them — seceded. Thereafter we hear no more of ivory, apes, and peacocks. But we hear a great deal about the moral law. The Covenant had stipulated that if the Jews would keep The Law, Jehovah would bless them. With the coming now of poUtical disunion and disaster, terminating in captivity at Babylon, the Jews began a long and agonizing attempt to get back into 86 THE FREE CITY Jehovah's good graces, by keeping The Law. From that time the ethical imperative, which Kant classed with the starry heavens at night as the two sublimest objects in the miiverse, became Israel's obsession. The Jew learned to say, I ought. He wrote those words, prayed them and sang them and preached them; with a vehemence that made him, and the Book wherein he expressed them, the ethical teacher of all succeeding ages. Not that the Jew by congenital endowment was moral above other peoples. But in his case the moral law got joined up with civic patriotism; and thereby became heated to the flaming point. "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea, we wept when we remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof. For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth saying. Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jeru- salem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy." CHAPTER VII THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS THAT Jesus was a man without a coimtry, is a de- lusion held by many. They who get famihar with the historical setting see, on the contrary, that he had a local problem on his hands. His life co- incided with the formation of the Roman Empire and its extension over Palestine. Rome as a city republic had been a lovable object. As an empire, o'erleaping geo- graphical lines and welding the world into mechanical imiformity, she was not a lovable object. The Roman Empire was a worldwide amalgamation of capitalistic classes for the enslavement of the working masses. Rome did not conquer the various countries; she annexed them by forming an alliance with the magnate class in each. Much of the New Testament reflects the coalescence of the local grandees in Palestine with the Roman System.^ Formerly the slave-holding class in each country had maintained its own army. But with the growth of slave rebelUousness, begun by Spartacus a generation earher, the malcontents in each country were outnumbering the local army. The Roman Empire, accordingly, was a consoUdation of these separate armies into a miUtary unit, with an Imperator at its head; who was the Em- ^ In the " Call of the Carpenter " I have painted the industrial and economic background of Jesus with some fulness. Here I have only space to outline it sketchily. 87 8S THE FREE CITY peror. By means of uniform dress, tactics, weapons, and organization, the legions — as the world army was now called — were discipUned into a fighting machine of high efficiency. Great roadways were built, for celerity in mobihzing the legions. These causeways were paved with flat stones so as to make for swift marching. They were carried straight across the countryside, cutting through mountains and carr5dng over valleys on mas- sive viaducts. No expense was spared in shortening dis- tances; because the reach of the entire mihtary force into the district of every member of this world Corporation was the heart of the System. Let the magnate class in any country of the Empire send in a call for help, within forty-eight hours there would ghtter on the horizon the spear flash of the gathering legions, bearing down upon that spot from the four corners of the globe. Thus the Roman Empire cemented its might. Embracing all countries and tongues and climates — a motley crew — they had a cohering principle which swallowed up their diversities: an appetite for plunder. This Empire was coiling its snaky folds about Pales- tine. Jesus, brought up in a carpenter shop and himself a carpenter, finally laid aside his workingman's apron, brushed the shavings and sawdust from his clothing, and set out to announce to Israel her deliverance from the degrading bondage that was fastening itself upon her back. In that cause he hved and taught and died. His celebrated epigram, "Render unto Caesar the things that are Csesar's," has been quite misinterpreted; and so has blinded the eyes of some otherwise keen- sighted students. Those words were spoken in answer to a catch question put to him by a band of informers, "spies which should feign themselves just men, that they might take hold of his words, that so they might THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 89 deliver him unto the power and authority of the gov- ernor." They asked him, "Is it lawful to give tribute tmto Caesar?" It was shrewdly put. If he disallowed the tribute, Rome would take affront and despatch a legion of troops to end him and his movement without delay; a clash that he avoided as long as possible: "My time is not yet come." On the other hand, if he approved of the tribute, he would lose his followers, who were "waiting for the consolation of Israel" and who had ralUed around him because they saw here one who "should dehver Israel." Jesus "perceived their craftiness." In putting their question, the spies handed him a coin. It was a Roman coin; bore the image of the Emperor. That image, to every patriotic son of Israel, was anathema. When Pilate sought to carry into Jerusalem the Roman standards which bore the image of the Imperator, the Jews protested so violently that he had to revoke the order. When the Emperor CaUgula issued his de- cree that his statue be set up in Jerusalem, "many ten thousands of Jews" met the imperial messenger long before he reached their sacred city, to head off the sac- rilegious thing that was on its way to the defacement of Jehovah's town. He asked if they meant war. "No," said they; "but we rather die than break our laws. And they threw themselves on their faces ready to be slain." Israel — the common people in her citizenry — was so flamingly patriotic that a law had been passed by her lawgivers, forbidding the priests to accept the temple tax in anjrthing but Jewish coins; lest some coin be offered that bore the image of an earthly emperor. That was why "money-changers" were in the temple court: to change foreign money into Jewish currency, so that it could be offered without insult to Jehovah. The Romans, on the other hand, would naturally ask that their tribute 90 THE FREE CITY be paid to them in Roman money. Therefore the re- quest of Jesus to the spies: "Show me the tribute money." The Jews had a saying: "No people is conquered until it has accepted the currency of the invader." So when the spies put their question, Jesus "saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render there- fore unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's." His followers under- stood that answer to mean: Render back unto Caesar the blasphemous coins he has brought into our country; a proclamation of non-intercourse with the hateful System, extending even to an embargo on Roman coin- age. His quickness of repartee thus enabled him to dodge one horn of the dilemma without impaUng himself on the other. "When they heard these words, they marvelled; and left him." "And they could not take hold of his words before the people." Syria, of which province Palestine was a part, had be- come Rome's Eldorado. Italian adventurers, bankrupt through extravagance at home, sought eagerly an ap- pointment here, as a career of glorious piracy. To sup- pose that The Galilean gave a clean bill of health to this Caesarism that was sucking dry the veins of the people, is to betray want of knowledge of the historical back- ground. We read: "He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem." That which once had been the holy city, was become the stronghold of Rome's grip on the country. Mark Antony, acting for the Romans, had appointed Herod the Great to be Rome's vassal king. Herod changed the name of Samaria into Sebaste, the Greek word for "Augustus," the Roman Emperor. His aping of Roman ways went so far as to erect an amphitheatre in Jerusalem, and the exhibition there every five years THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 91 of gladiatorial combats in honor of Augustus. Over the gate of the temple itself — there where the holy Ark of the Covenant resided — he erected a golden eagle, the Roman military ensign, in token that the Jerusalem state, both pohtically and spiritually, was in bondage to the Empire. At this last unendurable stigma a seething mob gathered and tore the eagle from its perch. As punish- ment, Herod burned forty of the people ahve. To deliver Jerusalem from this "abomination of deso- lation standing in the holy place," was the constant re- solve of Jesus; and cost him Calvary. The temple in Jerusalem had by now become the center of high finance. The Jewish magnates — the priestly class — were in partnership with Rome; and received protection from Rome in gouging the lower classes. To the high priests Annas and Caiaphas went all the fleeces and skins of the animals that were sacrificed; also the firstfruits of the ground, and large money levies. The cupidity of these temple rulers was notorious. The Jewish populace, long in revolt against them, were powerless. These temple grandees were in cahoots with the Roman System; and a Roman garrison in Fort Antonio, close to the temple gate, kept the people cowed — Fort Antonio, recalling Mark Antony. Lately this renegade coterie of Jewish millionaires had achieved a further refinement of ex- tortion. Within the temple enclosure they sold animals for sacrifice, at exorbitant rates. A worshipper, coming with an animal purchased outside in the open city mar- kets, would frequently have his offering rejected, on the ground that the animal was "ceremonially unsound." The Emperor Tiberias — now the successor of Augustus — had changed the occupancy of the Jerusalem high priesthood four times, until he found in Caiaphas a com- pliant instrument and submissive friend of Rome. In 92 THE FREE CITY return, the Roman legions protected Caiaphas and his fellow plunderers with brutal might. To the flaming patriot soul of Jesus the scene was un- endurable. Journeying to Jerusalem at a Passover season when the city would be full of pilgrims, he entered the temple and started an insurrection by driving out the entire set of merchandisers: "It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves." It exalted him to be the popular hero; a person dangerous to the System. Three days later, he was hanging on the cross; nailed there by Ro- man soldiers at the instigation of the Caiaphas cHque. And this was the charge against him: "He stirreth up the people." The Lord's Supper, celebrating the meal he ate with his disciples the night before his execution, is the sacrament of municipality. Those elements me- morialize the body and blood of the world's supreme Citizen, who counted not his hfe dear unto him when the civic need sounded. The popularity of Jesus with the Jewish multitude is well attested: "The common people heard him gladly." The shouters of "Crucify him!" in Pilate's judgment hall were not the Jewish workingclass, but a gang of court hangers-on, and who had been coached by the Caiaphas ring to make this demonstration. Jesus was spirited away to crucifixion at an early morning hour; the authori- ties breaking the code of criminal procedure that they might get him nailed to the cross before the common people, heavy with sleep from the Passover banquet of the night before, could awake and learn that their Leader had been arrested. A couple of days later we hear the heart-broken lamentation of his followers: "We trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel." Jesus was a scion of the racial stock. He took pains, THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 93 early in his career, to declare that he was not an innova- tor: "Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets." In organizing his propaganda, he threw it expressly into the mold of the Jewish state; chose twelve disciples in order that, as he explained, each of them might take charge of one of the twelve tribes of Israel. "Son of David," is a name he apphes to himself. Paul was acquainted with other Hteratures. Jesus knows not any writings save those of his own people. His mind was steeped in Old Testament lore. His heroes are Abra- ham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, Elijah, Isaiah. The first recorded act of his life was his circumcision, "as it is written in the law of the Lord"; for which ceremony he was carried by his patriotic parents up to Jerusalem. And his last act, before his death, was to eat the Passover Festival in that same Jerusalem. I doubt if in all the story of mankind can be found another whose mind was more exclusively colored by love of country than Jesus of Nazareth. From him the phrase "Abraham's bosom," has come to be a popular designation for Heaven. Jesus was the quintessence of the Old Testament; he is patriot- ism's elixir and double distillation. It was this locaHsm that was the secret of his great- ness. To be a cosmopolitan is to be shallow. Only they are colossal who are metropolitan. Had Jesus spread himself over a universal geography, he would have been as cheap and ineffective as the roamer type ever is. There seems to have been a temptation to this very thing. At the start-off in his career and while hi& mind was forming, it is related that he was up on an ex- ceeding high mountain and beheld in vision all the king- doms of the world. Satan said unto him, "All these things will I give unto thee." But with an "Apage, Satana!" Jesus turned his back on a career that would 94 THE FREE CITY have meant only territorial bigness: "Get thee hence, Satan." That is why he became such a great power of God. Localism is not a littleness, it is a greatness. Anyone can be a cosmopolitan; the streets of our large cities are littered with them. To stay in one's own square of territory and wrestle with the concrete problems there demanding attention — that's the acid test. Jesus was the most prodigious person that ever trod this planet, because he was the most patriotic person that ever trod this planet. Only that which is wrought deeply can endure immortally. And deepness requires that the surface area be severely circumscribed. In geographical extent Palestine is microscopic. EUjah ran across it in one day. And from north to south, it is about half the distance of New York to Albany. A mere fleck on the world's map. But that fleck was enough soil for Jesus to plant there a tree of life whose fertile pollen has blown abroad through all the spaces of the globe. Man reckons greatness by surface measure. God reckons great- ness by cubic measure; except the life of a people is as large in the up-and-down direction as it is in the hori- zontal direction, that poUtical fabric is dimensionally distorted. In limiting his activities to the local problem, Jesus became the messiah of the healthy gospel of munici- paUty, to a mankind cursed with the mania of univer- sahty, vague generaUsations, shallow abstractions. Let each community clean in front of its own door, the world will be clean in no time. The patriotic saturation started whilst his members were yet unformed: "Thou Bethlehem in the land of Juda art not the least among the princes of Juda; for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people Israel." His very name, Jesus, had a local ap- plication: "Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 95 save his people from their sins." The angel, announcing to Mary of the child she was carrying under her heart, said: "He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David; and he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever." And this was her reply: "My soul doth magnify the Lord. He hath holpen his servant Israel, as he spake to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever." Nor do we need to reject these prenatal chapters on the ground that they are poetry. The fact that they got into the record shows what those who were nearest to him, both in time and in spiritual intimacy, thought concerning him; and explains his power over his contemporaries. Moreover the heart of man by a sure instinct has ratified the local flavor in Jesus. Paul changed his Jewish name for a Roman name. But Jesus, never. The imagination cannot picture him save in his native setting. In strength he is the "lion of the tribe of Juda." For beauty, he is "the rose of Sharon," or the lily in a Palestinian valley. The center of his teaching was, the Kingdom of God. That was a municipal kingdom; restoring to Jerusalem her aforetime status as a sovereign and independent state; a theocracy, with God in the rulership, instead of a province with Tiberias in the rulership. The idea of a restoration undergirds every line of the Gospel story. This was the Good News — the Gospel — -he announced. To break the historic continuity and sunder Jesus from his racial roots, is to render his doings and teachings un- intelHgible. The Book of Matthew was written ex- pressly to show that Jesus is the continuer of the Old Testament line. The Epistle to the Hebrews had a similar purpose. They who break with history shall make no history. Jesus kept his continuity with the 96 THE FREE CITY roots from which he sprung. When he wishes to eulogize Nathaniel, it is with a "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." There is a note almost of severity in his refusal of the distractions of "all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them." To the Phoenician woman he announced: "I am not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." And to his disciples: "Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samari- tans enter ye not; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." Austere? Yes. But a principle of the first importance was involved; and had to be laid down with sharp- edged clarity. The principle of municipality is the saviour of the world; delivering us from the hell of mihtarism; inaugurating a reign of fellowship and dis- tinguished handiwork. By stationing himself sohdly on the reUgion of Homeland, Jesus became concentric with the heart of God and the flowing ages. An altruism that cannot find employment in one's own community but must seek out aUen fields, is a sentimentaUty. By an expatriate, no great work was ever wrought. This municipalism of his dream and plannings, is the clue to the democracy of Jesus. Every loyal member of the household of Israel, irrespective of station or em- ployment or education or manners, was a comrade of his. They were sheep of his flock; and his wide arms shep- herded them all. This got him into the clash with the Pharisees. Pharisee is a word meaning, "That which draws itself apart." They were sticklers for social law. Jesus would not permit any schism of the body poHtic. Allegiance to the State took precedence with him over all other considerations. He associated with social out- casts, the "lost sheep," the "sinners." Herein he is con- firmed by Aristotle, and by the finer spirits in all ages. THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 97 Civic loyalty is the supreme virtue. Make the munici- pahty supreme, private morals will take care of them- selves. Permit the municipaUty to collapse, no amount of ethical precept will then keep individuals true and wholesome. Against those Pharisees he spoke of the Wheat-and-the-Tares: "Let both grow together." And, "Like unto a net that was cast into the sea and gathered of very kind." Against their snobbery that excluded "the accursed mulitude that knoweth not the law," he taught a sowing of seed in wide cathoUcity; letting the harvest decide which ground was the hundredfold soil, and which the sixtyfold. Towards the treasonable Caiaphas-Annas clique Jesus was especially implacable. The Jewish state had a Uberal policy of naturalization; admitting ahens to the citizenship upon their quahfying themselves by a two- fold rite: circumcision and a partaking of the Passover Feast. Jesus threatens the unfaithful rulers of the vineyard — these disobedient "sons of the kingdom" — with expulsion from their posts of leadership and their replacement by naturalized "children of the adoption," who "shall come from the east and from the west." His Parable of the Illegal Steward discloses in Jesus a statesmanly recognition of one of the cardinal problems in economic administration. He was there wrestling with that old, old question, absentee landlordship. In every civiHzation — I cannot think of an exception — as soon as riches accumulate, the owner has tended to leave the soil and move into the city; turning over his land to a steward who shall send him his annual produce. This was happening in Israel. Jerusalem was getting rich at the expense of the outlying countryside. Isaiah complains of the swallowing up of the old farming fami- lies by the Jerusalem leisure class. We saw how, because 98 THE FREE CITY of this, Rome and Athens fell. Anyone who knows the desolation spread in a rural region by absentee land- lordism will understand why Jesus was relentless. A farm owned by an absentee is a curse to the countryside. It makes no contributions to the social life of the neigh- borhood. It grows up to weeds, and plagues all the neighboring farms with thistledown and cockle. Man- aged by an agent, it gives forth a cold impersonahty which always attaches to property that is not humanized by the personal presence of the owner. In this parable Jesus represents the steward taking sides with the local residents, and against the "certain rich man" in his aloofness. The utter ruthlessness of wealth adminis- tered by agents — careless of all but the yearly per cent — puts it into the wolfish category. Jesus told the people they had a right to shear the wolf ad Hbitum. Jesus was the Prince of Peace because he was the prince of patriots. Unchallengeably the messianic kingdom he announced was Jerusalem-centered: "Swear not at all; neither by heaven, for it is God's throne; neither by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King." In the Book of Revelation is drawn a picture of the kind of society Jesus was seeking to institute: a city state, ir- radiating blessedness north and south and east and west. "That great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. And had a wall great and high; and had twelve gates; and names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel." The map of mankind is a mosaic of communities; re- deem each community, the redemption of the world will take care of itself. Jesus had a world program. It was this: IsraeUtes, of high degree and of low degree, must repent of their greeds and feuds, all unfraternal beastli- ness; among each other, rendering good for evil, turning THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 99 the other cheek. Each Jew must love the Father and the Fatherland with all his heart, and his neighbor as himself. The spectacle of a Commune thus knit in the cords of lovely affection, would be seen abroad. Other peoples will "see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." It would start, through the length and breadth of the Roman Empire, a spirit- ual epidemic. There would be inaugurated a confed- eracy of communes. God had expressly put Palestine on a high hill, as a man puts a candle on a table, in order that it may give Ught to aU that are in the house. Little Palestine, scarce bigger than a mustard seed on the map, would wax into a tree wide as the world, so that the birds would come to lodge in the branches thereof. Tiny; yet she would be as "leaven hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened." Thereupon, fortified by a wide confederation, Israel could proclaim herself in- dependent. But not before: "Which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him saying. This man began to build, and was not able to finish." A free Jerusalem then would be a beacon to the world. A hun- dred other peoples, now cowed in subjection to the Em- pire, would behold the signal so luminously flashing from Zion's top. They would catch the contagion. Bondage everywhere would be broken. The world would be re- deemed. This Galilean taught that civic freedom is a commodity of price. The municipal republic is a dizzy altitude. A Free City is set in the high places of the universe. The ascension thither is not for a half-breed folk, but for thoroughbreds. In summoning volunteers, he demanded 100 THE FREE CITY all or nothing. No one could follow him by halves. Self-government is the supreme treasure; and a people must be willing to pay for it the supreme price. "Like unto treasure hid in a field; the which, when a man hath found, he goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." A Free City is "the pearl of great price." Jesus invited the people to form a poUtical union dif- ferent from and independent of the Roman System. There were those who advocated a concihatory attitude toward Rome — accept the Empire, correct its more glaring faults; make the best of it; be practical. He showed the fallacy of this. The Kingdom of God could not pour its explosive wine into the Herod-Caiaphas bottles. This Carpenter from Nazareth was discreet, gentle-spirited, sweet-minded. But he was also a non- compromiser. Through the first three books of the New Testament — where his photographic portrait is given — we behold a master mind proclaiming a revolutionary re- versal in the world's ongoings. Jesus did not establish a church. He said to Peter, "On this rock I wUl found my ecclesia." Ecclesia, as we saw in Athens, meant the General Assembly of the citizens. In that theocratic day a church separate from the body politic was unimaginable. By "ecclesia" Jesus meant The Commune; the historic and universal meaning of the word. To translate it into a meaning that did not become widely current till the Third Century, is not scholarship. He called people one by one to be his followers. These were the Old Testa- ment "saints" we saw: people who rallied around him for the purpose of restoring to Jerusalem her sovereignty. The Jesus' "Way" was not a church. It was an Associa- tion For A League of Free Cities. Jesus was a jurist. He gave his life to set up an ideal form of society. He reminded his followers that the Jerusalem state THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 101 had the moral law for its palladium. "Repent ye, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." As when Romulus kindled the fire and caused the people to leap over it, so Jesus took over from John the rite of baptism, that those who followed this "Way" might be washed and purged. The Ejngdom he was announcing was "not of this world"; that is to say, was not a political science based on Roman Empire principles — world dominion and commercial piracy. It was a kingdom of fellowship. Therefore the citizens must love one another; lend to one another and ask not in return; minister, rather than seek to be min- istered to. The "Father" idea, so dominant in the Jesus' psy- chology, and his favorite name for God, derived from his patriotism. The two ideas are not only akin; they are Uterally the same word. In Latin the word for father is PATER. In the German that becomes vater. In Middle Low German it takes the form, fader; whence our Eng- lish, "father." A patriot is one in whom the filial instinct, affection for father and the fatherland, is uppermost. Jesus, announcing himself as a son of the Father, em- phasized by that phrase his Hneal descent from the Fatherland, and the messiahship which this Hving senti- ent Fatherland had anointed him unto. The State was a moral Person; and Jesus declared himself to be a true- begotten child thereof. In his speech there is not a hair's breadth of difference betwixt the divine Father and the divine Fatherland. Wonderworks attended the ministry of Jesus. Munic- ipahty is an intense communion between a people and their fatherland. In that mysticism all the tissues of Jesus were drenched. And in like manner all the tis- sues of the people who flocked around him. Thereby both he and they were supernormally endowed. It is 102 THE FREE CITY unscientific to judge the truth or falsity of events in a psychological situation such as that, by the dull work- ings of the human spirit in a commercial era Uke the present. To try to interpret an age of genius by the formulas and standards of our cold modernity, is to measure an electric current with a foot rule. Nothing is clearer than that the people expected miracles, and also that Jesus frequently satisfied that expectation. It is also in the record that the people's posture of expectancy created the favoring psychology by means of which his wonderworks were wrought upon them. Remembering the stream of history he let loose upon the world and which has flowed from that day to this, the other miracles recorded of him become massively credible. Municipal- ity, whereia man's httle ego is caught up into and domi- nated by the cosmic Self, is the miracle of miracles. Which, when it happens, all ''mighty works" stand easily within the prospect of beHef . Civic fatherhood makes for hmnan brotherhood. Un- less men love their country they will not love each other. To the extent that people are patriotic they will be demo- cratic. Jesus was aflame with the passion of fellowship; and so he was more fierce than any other person in his- tory I know of, against the foes of feUowship. A poUti- cal science based on the father idea, necessitates a poUti- cal economy based on the brother idea. Jesus sought to estabhsh a commune. Quench this lust of private gain, said he. It chops the civic body into hash. Make the municipahty your bank of deposit. There lay up your treasure. Take no thought saying. What shall we eat or what shaU we drink. Your fatherland knoweth that ye have need of all these things. Seek ye first the king- dom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you. It was the poUtical economy that Plato and Aristotle also THE PATRIOTISM OF JESUS 103 had urged: Our supreme care should be for the munici- paUty, which careth for us. Jesus sought to reestablish Israel as a social repubUc. He planned a cooperative democracy, wherein a man would cherish the commune, and the commune in turn would give him liis daily bread. He could not abide a rich man clothing himself in purple and fine linen whilst another citizen, Lazarus, lay in rags; nor one who would pull down his barns to build bigger, whilst his brothers in the civic household crouched in want. With almost Uteral accuracy Jesus foreshadowed the clash between Israel and the Roman Empire. This was three and twenty years before the Great Jewish Re- belUon, and which ended in the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus. Had the officials in the Jewish state heeded his call to repentance and civic dedication, Jesus would have led Israel with so statesmanly a mind and so massive a spirituality that the outcome of that clash could easily have been reversed. Israel attempted to fight the Em- pire single-handed. Jesus expressly cautioned against this: *'What king, going to make war against another king, sitteth not down first and consulteth whether he be able with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand?" Only a world confedera- tion could make head against a world empire: the whole lump must first be leavened. But those who "were at ease in Zion" were too comfortable in the fat incomes they were drawing under the protection of the Roman legions. Poignant his outburst of sorrow; the elegy of a breaking heart: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them which are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wing, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." 104 THE FREE CITY "How often would I have gathered thy children to- gether!" This anguish, his wrestle with that local prob- lem he had on his hands, was not a casual or subordinate feature of his life's work. It was the fire that burned continuously at the heart of him. "How often!" From his boyhood dreamings, until the film glazed finally over his eyes on that April afternoon atop Golgotha's bitter summit, the deHverance of his people Israel was the thread that ran through all of his plannings. Multi- tudes of people keep Friday of each week as his death- day. It is not too extravagant a memorial of him. But it should be connected with the municipal purpose for which he there paid that full measure of devotion. In giving himself for a free city, Jesus incarnated all the fulness of the Godhead bodily. Since Gethsemane and Golgotha, municipahty has been pierced into the feet of very God, and engraven on the palm of his hands. Cal- vary is one of the supreme shrines in the religion of citi- zenship. The Patriot who there was nailed to death stands foremost in the company of the immortals; the civic Christ, freedom's incomparable devotee, the world's municipal Redeemer. CHAPTER Vni WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER WHY did civilization start in the Eastern Hemi- sphere rather than in the Western? This question seems never to have got itself asked by historians. It has been taken for granted that Europe should be primary, and America secondary. The as- sumption has been that the human species originated in the Eastern world-half; and got to America by Behring Straits, the Aleutian chain of islands, or by Malay folk stepping from isle to isle across the Pacific Ocean to America; where Columbus discovered them. But there is no evidence of that Asia-to-America route. For all we know, it may have been in the other direction, from America to Asia. Civilization, and therefore the his- torians, originated in the Eastern Hemisphere. Those historians, writing up the history of the human race from the standpoint of their own ethnical folklore, traced the origin of the human family back to their own racial and geographical roots. Thus Adam and Eve and an oriental Garden of Eden have become soaked into our mental fibres; so that we believe by a dull instinct that man started over there; which would explain why civiUzation also started there. But even on the showing of those historians, man had existed in these Americas through a long enough duration prior to the coming of Columbus to have developed a 105 106 THE FREE CITY civilization equal to that of the Europe- Asia world. The Inca Empire in Peru was contemporary with Romulus at Rome, Homer in Greece, David at Jerusalem. Cy- clopean remains in Peru, and foreign to the genius of the Inca architecture, announce a powerful people existing there before the Inca dynasty; pushing the date back another thousand years. Yucatan and the Mound Builders of Ohio, will occur to the reader. Recent dis- coveries in a gravel bank by the Delaware south of Trenton have unearthed instruments made by human hands, in a geological period antedating the glacial epoch. There- fore Paleohthic man certainly existed in America; dat- ing human life on this continent back probably 20,000 years B.C. Then why did the Stone Man in Europe develop finally into Platos and Parthenons, whilst the same Stone Man in America did not develop? Climate? But the Eastern Hemisphere has no climate that the Western Hemisphere cannot duplicate. Edibles? America is surprising the world for the variety and rich- ness of her tillable lands. During twenty thousand years man existed here, amid a climate as favorable, and girt with a material supply more favorable, than what Europe or Asia can show. No spot elsewhere on the globe where soil and climate combine more perfectly for human uses than California. Then why is America now put to the humiUation of importing her civiUzation from Europe? Every time an American law court sits, it proceeds according to Roman law. What political science we possess, is based on traditions inherited from Athens; and all of our art schools draw from her as their well- spring. Every Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish church in America officially harks back to Palestine; so much so that the scenery of that Asiatic region has become in- stitutionalized for devotional purposes: the River Jordan, WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 107 Sinai, Mount Zion — names that are uttered with the same awe as is evoked by the divine Name itself. Why? How came it that the heavens of the Oriental hemisphere are starred with luminaries that even yet o'ersparkle our night with their radiance; while this our Western world, during a human existence at least as long — and maybe, longer — has produced no stars of magnitude? The reason why civilization originated in the Mediter- ranean basin rather than around Lake Ontario or Southern California or the Missouri River, is because the geography of the Mediterranean made city states obUgatory. Whilst the geography of North and South America made a nomad existence possible. Brute man — man in his animal unregenerate form — will be a roamer whenever he can. That is the path of least resistance. To wander, unfastened unattached, is the animal instinct universally. It is the loafer trait, so massively in all of us, human and subhuman. Beast nor fowl nor fish ever sink deep roots or Uve intensively. They get their subsistence by skimming over the surface of Nature; never by cultivating one spot of Nature. Where they find some product ready grown, they eat it. When that is exhausted they find some other windfall, or perish. They are consumers only; never producers. Depth is another word for localism. Both quad- rupeds and commercialists laugh immoderately at the idea of locaUsm. Both of these types covet only a sur- face existence. In order to grow deep, one must needs remain in the same locality. Animals have a horror of localism; wild animals, I mean; domesticated animals have taken on a touch of civiUzation, that is to say, localism. Animals, and men in their wild state, covet a form of life that shall be broad and shallow. Man, inheritor of immemorial generations of animal 108 THE FREE CITY ancestry, has got this virus of nomadism terribly in his blood. He is a natural-born gypsy. He likes to reap where he has not sown, and gather where he has not strewed. He will not settle down unless he has to. In America he didn't have to. Wild tracts of level land in- vited to a gratification of the wander-lust. Here the central plain permits travel in a straight line for a thou- sand miles, without bumping against a wall. The sea- board too is wide. Rivers in America, as a consequence, are usually gentle-mannered; which fact also favored frequent moving of one's habitat, by navigation. Fur- thermore the fertihty of the soil here produced so lux- uriantly that primitive man was not compelled to dig and plant. So he remained unchangeably the roamer he was when he emerged from the four-footed estate. And a roamer still was he when Columbus found him; hving in wigwams and teepees which could be pulled down and dragged by a horse to the next camping place; the ex- istence of a fisher or a hunter. That is to say, Man in America was a savage; or, at best, a barbarian. Nor has contact with Europe even yet produced a truly civil type of existence. Four centuries of life here in much-travelling America has al- ready begun to deciviUze the Caucasians who migrated hither; so that the modern American, returning now to staid old Europe as a globe-trotter and rushing through her aisles and corridors, is infecting the peoples there with the same mania for gadding. We Americans present to view the most restless people of all the kindreds of man- kind. The men we hold in honor and load with mil- lionairic opulence, are those who put wheels under us, whereby we may rush from one place where we are bored, to another place where we will be equally bored. To the destruction of character and of creative power. Neigh- WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 109 borhood is the stay and guard of decency. Travel is a means of escape from the Ten Commandments. Va- grants, be they in rags, be they in tags, or be they in velvet gowns, are not long in getting to be vagabonds. Mediterranean man in the Stone Age inherited from his animal ancestry as much of the nomad instinct as did the Stone Man in America. But the geography there put a prompt and severe veto to his roaming propensities. There we find a narrow strip of land surrounding the sea, and with high mountains almost immediately behind. On practically all sides, the coast is a shelf but a few miles in width, backed by a mountain wall; or, as on the Sahara side, by a forbidding desert. Moreover, the Mediterranean shore is not only narrow; but this narrow strip is itself intersected at frequent intervals by tongues of the sea. These tongues of water, in early times when navigation was perilous, served as transverse barriers, preventing migratory movements sideways; as the mountain or desert prevented migratory movements in the backward direction. By these natural pockets, Mediterranean man was un- consciously wooed by Nature into a form of life other than nomadic; namely, small collectivities, each settling in its little niche and there abiding. The coast where Rome pitched her site is an example. From the Alban moun- tains to the sea is five and twenty miles. So that Rome, midway between, had a twelve mile leeway. And the overflooding of the Tiber isolated her people on their seven hills for weeks at a time. In North America, by contrast, the mountains bordering the Atlantic are a hundred miles back; with a thousand-mile stretch north and south as an invitation to the rambler instinct. Greece is even more finely cut up than Italy. She is more indented by tongues of the sea and more parti- no THE FREE CITY tioned by mountain walls, than probably any other spot of equal size on the globe. And Greece developed the city state more perfectly than any other people. The Greek archipelago, Ukewise, is a checkerboard of islands; and each of them was the seat of a sovereign community. Palestine is another natural pocket. There, a group of valleys give down eastwardly into the Jordan. Thus, hemmed in on the west by the Lebanon ridge, and on the east by the Jordan and the desert, the IsraeUtes snuggled closely. In good sooth, "snuggle" is quite the word to describe her life during her formative period, and which made her the coherent people she became. The city state of Memphis was another — and most important — center of ancient civilization. This Egypt commune oc- cupied a narrow strip on each side of the Nile; with inhospitable deserts round about, to keep them from roaming. In the other spots where civilization developed, the same geographical feature — natural pockets — is to be noticed. In the Mesopotamia valley, girdUng deserts made the wall. In India, the communes were located each ia some cleared area, with the danger-infested jungle as the barrier round about. Japan is a small mountainous country, with indentations from the sea; Hke Greece. China apparently got her arts and culture from this island neighbor. The municipal state was the originator of ci\41ization; and can be the only guarantee of a continuing civihza- tion. The principle of municipaUty is a cord woven of two strands: collectivity and continuity. Nomads want both of these qualities. Roaming wide spaces, nomads do not touch elbows constantly with the same individuals; therefore they grow no sense of solidarity — all of those countless graces that are bred when neighbor rubs against WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 111 neighbor, that Feeling of the Other Fellow, to which we give the name justice manners amity. Also, nomads possess no graveyards. A graveyard means an attitude of reverence towards the generations that have gone be- fore. It is a constant reminder that we were preceded by othei-s, and in turn will be followed by others. The word patriot, as we saw, comes from the word "father." In the Bible, reUgion was in large part a ritual for keeping alive in the people a philosophy of history; a sense of the pit from which they were hewed and the root from which they were sprung. "The God of your fathers," — that is what gave religion to the world. Said Jesus: "Other men have labored, and ye are entered into their labors." This veneration of the past is an outstanding character- istic of city commonwealths; and is a prime cause of civilization. It made Rome the giver to mankind of that marvelous fabric known as Roman Law. Rome as a municipal repubhc developed the "father" idea as perhaps her chief product. Her entire conception of the state centered around it. She called the state, "the patria," "the place where the fathers Uved and are buried." She venerated the "Conscript Fathers"; called those who were — originally — the public-spirited class in the population, "The Patricians." From this there was begotten in Roman psychology a respect for the What- has-been. She styled herself, literally, a terra patrum: a commonwealth where fatherhood was the sacredly es- tablished principle of State. Accordingly, whenever a way of doing things had become estabHshed, the people clung to it with a religious fidelity: the Fathers did so and so; ergo, the children must follow it with scrupulous fideUty. In this way formulas and procedures became sharpened into definiteness. Other peoples, where the Fathers were not in so awful a veneration, oscillated from 112 THE FREE CITY one manner of doing a thing into another manner of doing it. Not so, the Romans. Precedence — that which the Fathers have done — was here consecrated with solemn awe. In this way Roman customs concerning property and the rights of persons came to stand out finally with a fixedness and precision quite lacking in the codes of other peoples. So Roman Law survived, whilst the wobbly processes in other countries became forgotten. Lawyers to this day are proverbially conser\'ative. Their mental inheritance from Rome breeds in them an instinct for precedent, and a distaste for innovation. The vagrant is never a civilization builder, because he is not a city builder. The word civilization is from the Latin civitas; (which, carried over into our tongue, be- comes "city.") A city is a settlement. Civilization is the product of a settled life. All that we comprehend under that scopeful word — law, manners, art, Uterature, science, material monuments, mutual help — cannot be the improvisation of a moment. They are plants of a slow growth, to the maturing of which, generations of generations must contribute each its quota. In Norse fancy, Igdrasil, Tree of Being, enshrines an irrefutable truth. Civilization is a tree, whose roots go deep in order that its branches may reach high. Each genera- tion can build but one ring in the trunk of that oak; add- ing itself to the layers that have been built in already, and upon which they that come after must build. The nomad thinks and Uves in terms of a single genera- tion. He chops the life of mankind into disconnected particles. With him, no Igdrasil adding its slow bulk ring upon ring. His plant must germinate, take root, spring up, and come into foUage, all in the threescore and ten of one man's life. Which kind of a plant, as the secular durations of the world count values, is but a WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 113 mushroom growth, a fungus. Fungus, seeing that it shoots forth in a day, shall in a day perish. In the Red Skin folk of North America, or the fisher folk of the prahies by the Amazon, inventive minds arose, brains that struck out excellent suggestions for progress. Had those beginnings been followed up, they would have led to a civiHzation full as rich as that of Attica or Latium. But on his death there was no fihal-minded person to take up the invention where his predecessor left off. With no regard for antiquity, they gave no heed to pos- terity; erected no schools, built no monumental splendors to decorate the world in the day of their children's chil- dren: "as we neglect the fathers, so we in turn will be neglected by our children. Eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow we will be forgotten." That word "fungus" accurately describes all nomad life, be it the nomadism of savagery, or the gadding mania in modernity. Fungi are parasites. They have no power to take up sustenance directly from the earth; they feed on other organisms. Therefore the comparison is exact. Nomadism means, "having no home." A more just description would be, "having no workshop." Home is not where we Hve, but where we make our living. If productivity be wanting, 'tis not a home but a boarding house. The reason why people are nomads, is not be- cause they have an aversion to a settled dwellingplace, but because they have an aversion to work. A home- Ufe makes for a work-Ufe. Contrariwise, a work-Ufe makes for a home-hfe. So long as people are happily at work, they stay home. There is no delight to be com- pared with expressing the soul day by day in material form. People who produce the most, journey the least. The great travel ages in history have been non-productive ages. Eras of art creation have always been home- 114 THE FREE CITY staying eras. It seems as though the hands and feet are competitors for the energy that is in us. When the hands are busy, the feet keep still. It is when the hands go hstlessly to a task, the feet get the travel itch. Work is an acquired trait. Because of our animal ancestry, not work but loafing is the instinctive bent in all of us. Wild animals don't work. That is why they are animals. The ascent of species is the development of a capacity for work. The monkey is higher than the zebra in the scale of being, because the monkey has fingers with which to work up the raw material it finds, into forms more suitable for its food and habitation. A zebra, finding a heap of beans, half of them good and half decayed, must eat all or none. I had a monkey once. One day I gave him a green pod of peas. He not only set to work, in good housewifely fashion, to shell the peas from the pod; but he took one of the roxmd peas and with his fingernails proceeded to skin off the peel that was its integument, a membrane so thin that I never knew there- tofore of its existence. With the viand thus prepared to his hking, he ate it. Darwin states the formula of evo- lution as "adaptation to environment." A more exact phrasing, I submit, would be, Capacity to labor. Adap- tation to environment is the result of hard and continuous effort. Talent for work is the key to the evolutionary ascent. The nomad is a low form of human life, because it shows a low grade of productivity. Hunters and fishers and trappers grow not the objects they use. Civilized man, in contrast, does not depend upon the wild chamois but raises a flock of sheep. He breeds textile and fur animals for his clothing; Hke the skunk and fox farms we behold, and ostrich farms for plumage. This quaUty in man — capacity to toil — was bred in him by life in WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 115 municipal states. Work that is greatly productive is characterized by collectivity and continuity, the two strands of which municipahty is woven. Vast was the stretch of time requisite to domesticate the animals we use, and on which so much of our civiliza- tion depends. To take that wild chamois and breed him into the pasture-lot sheep of our farmsteads — five hundred years of continuous selective breeding were a short time for that achievement; the son taking the flock reverently from the fathers, making a small increment to the task of domestication, and then handing the half-bred flock on to the children. The breeding of our horse from the wild mustang and the zebra; of the cow from the buffalo; of the pig from the wild boar; of the dog from the woK — not centuries but millenniums were re- quired. Likewise to domesticate the plants, upon which our Uving so largely depends. The potato in its wild form is a tuber the size of a filbert nut. I beUeve that some scientists, as a means of calculating the age of the Inca civiHzation, have been trying to educate that wild tuber. And in a hundred years they have not yet evolved anything appreciably larger than the original filbert- thing. Civilized corn is of so ancient an ancestry that we do not even know from what wild plant it originated. These tasks required for their accomplishing thousands of years. The Ufe of a man is but threescore and ten. A community, however, can have a fife measured by centuries. When the conmiunity idea, therefore, had been hit upon, civiHzation commenced. TTiis continuity stretching over centuries, required also collectivity. Imagine a task of a thousand-yeared duration, entrusted to the slender thread of one family. At any time disease or accident might sunder that line, and intercept the process. Without man, domestic 116 THE FREE CITY animals and plants cannot survive. In order to provide continuity, with no gap in it, a collectivity of families had .to be. Many tasks, furthermore, are beyond the competency of individual toil; as in a ''Raising," to Uft the heavy framework of a house. But the collectivity must not be too big. Aristotle and Jesus were right: To hold a people together through generations of generations, the fellowship must be of a vigorous quaUty. As the area of the human group en- larges, the warmth of fellowship lessens. The further they are stretched, the more the threads of intimacy at- tenuate. The attenuation gets to be so slender at last that the thread snaps; the individual no longer feels himseK identified in sympathy and interest with the others. Altercation then opens a gulf. Bickerings arise; class feuds; warfare. And that civilization-line is cut. Further, it must not only be a community, and a small community; but it must be a sovereign community. The small repubUc is always a work state; a commune of producers banding themselves against exploitation. No- mads round about seek to pilfer the product of these toilers, either by overt incursions, or by spohation dis- guised under commercial formulas. Sovereignty is the hedge wherewith the community girdles itself, to defend that garden-plot of civiUzation from being overrun and trampled by hmnan tigers. Like early Rome, defending herself against commercially-minded Carthage. Like Athens, against the hordes of Darius and Xerxes. Like Israel, against Egypt and Chaldea and Caesarism. With- out that hedge, the fruits of the garden could never have come to maturity. CiviUzation, thus, is the product of a small collectivity, abiding continuously in one spot through hundreds of years, and sovereign. Which is another way to describe WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 117 a city republic. The one spot in America that most closely resembles the broken topography of the Mediter- ranean, is Peru. That cordillera of the Andes Range is made up of "knots"; plateaux formed by the crossing of two ranges, and surrounded on all sides by mountain walls or dizzy ravines. In those natural nests, people grouped themselves. Cut off by profound gorges or snow-capped sierras from the peoples around them, they developed into communities. Each was a httle republic, owning their lands and hves in common. The Inca civilization was the result. The wild potato of a filbert's size became in their hands a tubercle practically as we have it to-day. The wild plant became the maize, whence we have our golden corn. The mountain goat was do- mesticated into their llama, and its wool was woven into tapestries of strange beauty. Why then did not the Incas go on to the cultural heights reached by Athens and her sister communes? Those Peruvians made the mistake that modernity is making: they went from municipality over into nation- aUty; they got the mania of bigness. The natural barriers were not sufficiently insuperable to keep the communities distinct. As soon as they began to get civilized, they drove highways through the mountain walls, threw bridges across the deep defiles. Then they committed the heresy of heresies: instead of federating, the communities fused. They yielded up their local autonomy, unto a centraUzed power. With the big state came a weakening of the tie conjoining man to man. The people fell into discords. Warrings broke out. Commotions followed commotions. Until the Man on Horseback appeared. A ruling dynasty established itself, supported by a military dictatorship. The Incas be- came what is probably the most perfect instance of 118 THE FREE CITY socialistic nationalism ever known. "Hie huge state was a centralized and highly benevolent despotism. There was great pomp in Cuzco, the capital; and dull drudgery in the provinces. The eye of the central power, reports Clement Markham, was ever upon the people. The never-faiUng brain provided for all their wants; gathered in the tribute; selected their cliildren for the various occupations. And what was the net product of this mammoth and highly centraUzed nation? The Peruvians developed much in the way of materiahty, and naught in the realm of personaUty. Nationality makes a people rich. Mu- nicipaHty makes a people great. The Incas, when they gave up their Uttle repubUcs and fused into a nation, chose material values at the expense of personal values. Their hydraulic engineering was bold and skilful. They had a level road sixteen hundred miles in length, with galleries cut league after league through solid rock. Ravines of hideous depth were filled with bridges of solid masonry. It was a land of gold, hterally. Pizarro, Amalgro, and their fellow Spaniards found that the re- ports which had come to them on this score were not ex- aggerated. In one of the temples, all of the implements, even to the spades and rakes in the garden, were of gold. When Pizarro, having captured their chief, demanded a ransom, one of the parcels of treasure sent to him con- sisted of eleven thousand llamas laden with gold. But where in her annals will you find the name of a great-minded Inca? Of them we read, "The people were nourished and well cared for, and they multiplied ex- ceedingly." Nor did the gold they heaped together enrich mankind permanently. It brought upon them the Spaniards, and tragic ferocities. Pizarro and Amalgro themselves were not lastingly enriched. They wasted WHY AMERICA IS THE LOITERER 119 their winnings in wars with each other. And both of them died so poor that they were "buried of mere char- ity." The gold that this Inca treasury poured into the lap of Spain was the latter's undoing. From that time dates the commencement of Spanish decay. CiviUzation is the flower, of which a Free City is the stem and root. A millennial plant, it requires a thousand years of consecutive growth to come to efflorescence. Man in America has not yet acquired that fixedness of rootage. Through twenty thousand years, America has been the loiterer. At this moment, smothered up in superfluity, we are still the loiterer. Cardboard churches, plaster ornaments, imitation stone, iron towers that pretend to be granite; commercial privateering; poli- tician government; a people drunk with materiahty; speed; money to spend and boots to kollop — who in after ages will think of us? What are we building that the quicksand years will not swallow? Whatsoever values we possess are an importation from Europe and Asia. There, httle repubUcs fastened themselves in one spot; toilers with investiture of indefeasible majesty, and producing works that gHster with an immortal re- nown. Of us, the record: "The people were nourished and well cared for, and they multipUed exceedingly." CHAPTER IX TWILIGHT AND THE DARK SO long as municipality was their political form, the Mediterranean coastal reaches continued to be the home of a civilized and creative order. When this was supplanted by a pohtical establishment based on the idea of bigness, that civihzation passed away. The Roman Empire, Uke all huge poUtical structures, spelt decadence. Because of their inheritance from the early and mu- nicipal era, the Roman emperors possessed no small amount of political genius. Roman law, Greek art, GaUlean ethics, gave to the Empire a store of vitaUty which kept her going through more than four hundred years. In the flush and force of that invigoration, the emperors wrought ofttimes in statesmanly fashion. Al- exander had founded his empire on the Greek model: small units, each with a city for its center. The Roman emperors did the same. They would grant to a city the civiTAs; whereby the town became a httle Rome in that locaUty, and whose people enjoyed the Roman citizen- ship. Over such, the emperors maintained a personal surveillance. Their edicts for the welfare of these city- centers grew at last into a considerable body of munic- ipal law. But these devices could not permanently avail. The Empire was sick with a deep-seated sickness; paUiatives 120 TWILIGHT AND THE DARK 121 could but relieve temporarily. This malady was, the de- cay of pubhc-mindedness in the people. The provincial cities had become puppets worked by the central and far away power. The only rights of self-government left to the communities were on trumpery matters. The real government — matters concerning the importances of life — had been wrested from them, taken over by the centrahzed machine on the Tiber. Perceiving that local patriotism was declining, the emperors tried to induce in the people a pride in the Empire as a whole. But human beings cannot identify themselves enthusiastically with a governmental aggregate whose area reaches beyond the confines of their daily affairs. The decay of pubUc con- sciousness is the outstanding fact of these five downward- sHpping centuries. Rome herself was no longer a source of virtue. There at the heart, the spirit of citizenship was also dead, or dying. The influx of tribute was a leprosy disseminating its white pus through all the tissues of society. They who had once been citizens of the Cato breed, hardy ab- stemious folk resolute for freedom, were now a rabble, accepting bread from the Emperor, and a dole of tickets to amphitheatrical bestiaUties. Those folk in Rome thought to be free at the expense of bondage in the prov- inces. They found that the chain wherewith they shackled these, tangled its other end about their own ankles; a clamp self-locking, as though the iron links had by some Egyptian magic transformed into serpents and now were twining their coils about the Laocoon. Souls, once of the Gracchi stamp, deteriorated to a PANEM ET ciRCENSES level. They proved that the descent into hell is easy. "None cared what way he gained, so gain were his," recorded Juvenal. And he hved early, when the descensus Averno was at its commencement. 122 THE FREE CITY Rome as a municipal republic had been an ascending society. Rome as the center of a far-encircUng imperial- ism, was a descending society. The obliteration of local autonomy went on progres- sively. Augustus had affected to be a bourgeois emperor. He left much power in the hands of the outlying provinces. But one thing he did not leave in their hands — sover- eignty. So they lacked the one thing needful. These local centers were no longer world capitals, invested with awful majesty, free of dictation from any source except the Source Within. They were satellites to the central sun on the Tiber. Therefore, in the influence they wielded on the imaginations of their people, there was all the difference between sunlight and moonlight. Munic- ipal freedom is hke the solar emanations: possessed of mysterious power, because acting directly. But when reflected, as from the moon's orb, those rays lose their occult chemistry; become pale and lifeless. The faUing away of civic spirit in the provinces gave the emperors no end of trouble. When each community had been a sovereign state, the people had insisted on the privilege of participation in the government; had fought battles to maintain that right. Now that Free Cities were no more, the spirit of citizenship atrophied. More and more, the hands of the Emperor had to busy them- selves with distant affairs, which once the local citizens had administered. After Augustus, the centralization proceeded with constant pace. The state became con- centrated in a princeps on his Palatine throne. There are historians who criticise the emperors for thus grasp- ing more and more power; as there are contemporary critics rebuking the president of the United States of America for his extension of White House authority. In neither case is the executive at fault. Both the TWILIGHT AND THE DARK 123 Roman Empire and the United States bulk as colossal states; therefore, as participation by the individual in the affairs of government decUnes, the central power is compelled to take into its own hands the neglected threads. To handle the increase of administrative matters, an officialdom gathered about the Emperor; a civil service constantly more bureaucratic, constantly more profes- sional. In Hadrian's day the step was formally taken: the civil service was organized into a machine — an enormous array of bureaucrats taking orders from the government on the banks of the Tiber; radiating over the Empire like strands in the web of a spider. Citizenship means, the absorption of the ego into the communal group, whereby his private inclinations are subjugated. That self-obliteration in the public weal is the seed of civilization. When the small republics of the Mediterranean world gave way to the giant state, this absorption of the ego in public consciousness could no longer take place. The state was become a far-extending leviathan; whose palpable embodiment was in a distant city of the Italian peninsula, invisible and therefore im- personal. Such a state sent no throb to the heart- strings, awoke in the people no passion of self-abnegation. Accordingly they slumped back into their primeval self- ishness. Each one followed the devices and desires of his own heart. Because there was no longer any thought of the social union, there was no ardency of virtue. Aris- totle is never tired of showing that moraUty is pubUc- spiritedness: the municipality, beset by rivals and by foes, needs a strong coherent society within her borders; ergo, I as an individual, one of that component mass, must not squander my health or my strength or my goods; I must hve honestly and amicably and truthfully 124 THE FREE CITY and serviceably. When the body politic ia no longer visibly present, but the government is become a mechan- istic bureaucracy in a far-away invisible spot, that sum- mons to the ethical life has lost its resounding and vibrant note. The vexations that plagued the emperors in their at- tempts to administer the huge aggregate by means of a Civil Service, were under several categories. But all of these were variants of the one curse, the decHne of social- mindedness. There was no longer in the people a sense of society. Population decreased — portent of the ego- istic sensuahties that were gaining the upper hand. The army arose in a spirit of class-assertiveness; overrode all restraints of law; assassinated emperors at will. Land went out of cultivation, so that large tracts became waste. When pride of locaUty perishes, agriculture is touched with a mortal sickness; is caught in the drive of the population away from the rural regions toward the urban centers and a life of leisure. Thus the temper of the time was fashioned by an idle class. Labor became a degra- dation. People flocked to the commercial seats, where they could get a livehhood without contact with loam and cattle. We see frequent attempts by the Princeps and his ofl&cialdom to overhaul the finances of the provincial cities. This interference discouraged the citizens from interesting themselves in local affairs that had become but the administrative tool of the Palatine bureaucracy. As the citizens let go, affairs muddled into a still sorrier mess; which called for additional interference from the center. That interference destroyed still more com- pletely in the citizens their sense of responsibility for the state. The Empire was caught in a vicious circle which locked itself ever more tightly: Private negligence com- TWILIGHT AND THE DARK 125 pelled bureaucratic intervention; bureaucratic inter- vention augmented the private negligence. We behold the emperors appointing curatores: "Commissioners For the Investigation of the Condition of Free Cities." As these officials became corrupt, other officials were appointed to watch the first. Soon watchers had to be appointed to watch the watchers. Eagerly the emperors sought to stir up the people in each community to care for the pubUc business; in much the same method as is being witnessed in America — hortatory suppUca- tions: a "Revival of Citizenship." It was in vain. Ex- hortations failing, decrees conmianded the town senates — the CURIA — ^^to do their work: inspect the pubhc buildings, provide games, oversee the postal and trans- port service, collect the taxes, work the vacant lands. Penalties were exacted upon recreant town senates, and upon the members thereof who sought to dodge their obligations to society. Finally membership in a town senate became so irksome that we see the emperors sentencing to membership in those curia as punishment, prisoners who had been convicted of some crime or misdemeanor. The Roman Empire was unable to fuse the populational ingredients; when the melting pot is too large, it will not come to the melting point. The barbarians from the North were not the destroyers of that Empire. It broke asunder of its own weight. A thousand-miled nation from East to West, it had no coherency. Over so large an area, identity of interest was impossible. Class be- came arrayed against class; section against section. Perceiving their mistake, the emperors tried at last a remedy: they divided the Empire into halves, with a capital for the western end, and another capital for the eastern end. But this compromise still left the state five 126 THE FREE CITY hundred miles long. So that, in the thousand daily procedures of the people, private interest continued to take precedence over pubUc interest. Each Uttle act of private-mindedness was in itself of small consequence. But when the selfishness of one individual is multiplied by that of one hundred and twenty million individuals, it makes a disintegrating force against which no emperor, no civil service, no poUce force, can cope. In every bosom was generated a nest of serpents and cockatrices that refused to be charmed. The social union was de- composed. In the year 476, when the barbarians en- camped around the city of Rome and vanquished her, they were but expressing in outward fact what had for long been the inward condition: the Roman state had ceased to be; that society had disintegrated into one hundred and twenty miUion individualistic atoms. Ostragoth, Hun, and Visigoth were uncivilized, because their wanderings through the forests of central Europe and the steppes of the East had wrought in them no consecutive and collective existence; that is to say, no mimicipal psychology. This uncivihzed North now over- flooded the uncivihzed South. "If the whole ocean," says a contemporary witness of the cyclonic event, "if the whole ocean had swept over this country, it could not have made more horrible ravages. Our stock, our fruits, our harvests have been taken from us. Villages situated upon the highest mountains, even cities surrounded by rivers, have not been able to protect their inhabitants against the fury of these barbarians." Rome was sacked. Athens and the isles of Greece were harried. Jerusalem long before had been crushed under the imperial foot of Titus. Where the songs of Zion had been heard, now resounded the speech of roaming tribes from the deserts of the Arabah. Where the flexible Greek and the terse TWILIGHT AND THE DARK 127 Latin had communicated graciousness to man's life, the gutturals of the barbaroi were heard. The sun of munic- ipality had set. Night settled down thickly. The barbarians made effort to continue some of the cities. Wallia of the Visigoths took up his headquarters at Toulouse. Theodoric, at Ravenna. Clovis, at Paris. But the endeavor was short-Uved. In these nomadic hordes there was no instinct of municipaUty. After these chieftains were dead, their followers left the cities. They made the domain instead of the city their seat. Thus they could give themselves to himting and hawking, and the migrant life generally. Schools passed out of existence. Libraries were tumbled; books no longer circulated. Seeds and fruit trees and Uve stock, that had been improved through consecutive generations of cultivators, were destroyed or permitted to perish. Husbandry pined away. There was certainly not much arable, and but little even of pasture farming. Large tracts that once had been fertile, grew up to wildwood. Roads through the forest tangle disappeared. The Romans had been skilful carriage makers. These roamer tribes had no use for vehicles. They preferred horseback. So roads gave place to bridle paths. Some of the towns — Lyons, Marseilles, Milan, Genoa, Florence, Pisa — continued as names. But they had no municipal spirit. Wide areas in these towns were de- serted, so that flocks were pastured in the midst of once populous cities. The architecture of the classic world was used as a quarry whence to pillage stone for the hovels of the people. In only two places have we very much of the antique world still standing. One of these is Syria east of the Jordan, in a narrow strip edging the desert; Roman structures there are visible, and in abund- 128 THE FREE CITY ance; because the Bedouin natives in that region lived in tents, and had no need for carved stone. The other spot was preserved to us also by accident : Pompeii and Her- culaneum. We can never be too grateful to Vesuvius for the protecting layer of ashes and lava wherewith it blanketed those two cities and preserved them intact to our day. Say not, the elements are destructive. For destroying power there is nothing in the imiverse to equal man, when his egoistic impulses are unbridled by civiU- zation's sweet restraints. Those two spots accidentally saved to us, hint the splendor that covered all of the Mediterranean world in the classic era, that Luminous Age we have been reviewing: landscapes radiant with carved work; towns and countrysides inwrought with marble shafts; streets gorgeous in azure and gold. The Dark Ages that now followed must not be under- stood as a lifeless era. There was life enough. But it was egoistic Life. Now that communal sovereignty was no more, each man claimed that he was sovereign; he did that which was right in his own eyes; which meant, he indulged his caprice, obeyed no law, followed the im- pulse of the moment. We read, in one of the edicts by which the Holy Roman Empire — as the faint survival of the ancient Empire called itself — sought to control the turbulence: "It is enjoined upon all the tenants that none of them attack any others, in word or deed, with clubs or arrows or knives." And again: "It is ordained that all the women must restrain their tongues from slander- ing." And this: "Whatever son shall drive his father from his castle with fire and sword, or shall attack, wound, or imprison his father, shall be regarded as dishonored and an outlaw." A Simon Stylites, self-worshipped on his pillar top, images the time. Life became a business of naked physical force. Each TWILIGHT AND THE DARK 129 man was arrayed against his fellow. Scrimmage was the normal condition. Each family was its own policeman. Unshielded against the assaults of brigandage, the lowly attached themselves in a servile relationship to some lord who was powerful enough to protect them; whence the feudal status of seigneur and serf. A wide-wasting ocean of feuds and scuffling and pillage. City-worship, we saw, brings rehgion home to every- day Ufe; whereby the doings of each moment are chas- tened; and a moraUzed society is the result. Now, re- ligion and Hfe were divorced — the flying apart of the elements of society, when the state is big. A knight would amass a fortune in open brigandage, burning, slay- ing, robbing; and then would devote the proceeds to the church. No small part of the rehgious estates of that period obtained in this way their foimdations. A noble- man and his family were punctiUous to attend mass in the oratory of the castle; whilst in the dungeon under- neath, a serf or poUtical prisoner would be perishing for want of bread and water. The people would go from prayers to witness cold-bloodedly an execution by rack or wheel or burning at the stake. A brigand, awaiting in ambush a traveller coming up the valley, would tell his beads in the interim. Charlemagne commanded: "Let no priest presume to store provisions or hay in the church." And further: "Let the priests, according to the apostle's advice, withdraw themselves from revelling and drunken- ness. For some of them are wont to sit up till midnight or later, boozing with their neighbors; and then these men, who ought to be of a rehgious or holy deportment, return to their churches drunken." Of the Celts we have a description by Posidonius: "They eat in a slovenly manner; and seize with their hands, hke Uons with their claws, whole quarters of meat; 130 THE FREE CITY which they tear in pieces with their teeth. If they find a tough morsel they cut it with a small knife which they always carry in a sheaf at their side." Forks were not known till very late. A traveller in Italy records his pleasure at discovering this utensil in use; it seems to him a better way than for everyone to dip his fingers in the common dish, "seeing that all men's fingers are not alike clean." We have preserved a recipe that throws Ught on the cookery of the time: "Take a pig, draw him, smite ofif his head, cut him in IV. quarters, boil him; take him up and let cool; smite him in pieces." This then was the Dark Ages. A welter of fightings, and of uncoordinated whimsical energies. A decay of intellectual life and the mechanic arts. No centers where fellowship could rear her beautiful growths. The decay of municipaUty was the decay also of a feeling for Nature. The pitiful attempts at art in this period possess but a documentary value; like the reUgion of the day, a formal- ism; no naturalness; a stilted grotesquerie. Five squaUd centuries. Citizenship is the Ught of the world. That shining orb now was set. So night ensued; a night long and black and turbulent. CHAPTER X INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES THE rise of Free Cities, and accordingly the end of the Dark Ages, dates shortly after the year 1000. In part the arrival of that round millennial figure started the new era. The mind of man, groping in the night that was upon Europe, hailed the year 1000 as a perhaps divinely intentioned turning point. The real causation, however, was something far more concrete and massive. The resurrection of municipal states in Europe traced its roots to the Orient. Throughout the Dark Ages a vestige of civilization had continued, in that there was kept aUve in the people the vision of at least one free city — Jerusalem. Man can- not get along without splendors. When he is starved of them in his daily smroundings, the fantasy-forming faculty builds an illusional world whither his spirit may take up its abode. Such had been to Europeans the dream-Jerusalem during those five dismal centuries: a realm of the Blessed, rich with all resplendence; gates of pearl, streets of massy gold, walls of sapphire and ruby and jasper — the "Zion" of the Book of Revelation. As is ever the case, the sumptuousness of that visionary- world was in direct ratio to the dinginess of the actual world they were living in. The mind of man has seldom pictured a more radiant paradise, than during those five hundred years when Europe was a gloomy roaring hell. 131 132 THE FREE CITY But this Jerusalem, though etherealized, was also a geographical fact. Europe in that age had a more vivid awareness of Palestine than have moderns. The Saracen, inhabiting that land, had become the topic of topics — much what the labor movement is to-day. The spread of the Moslem up through Spain into France, and from the other direction through Asia Minor towards the Balkan gateway into Europe, was an omnipresent dread. The westward horn of that advancing crescent was no longer menacing; Martel the Hammerer had terminated that prong of aggression. But the horn at the other end was portentous, threatening. The Saracens had captured Jerusalem, and were edging up ever more close to the Dardanelles. Pilgrimages to Jerusalem by pious Christians, which had hitherto been a frequent custom, were now inter- rupted by the hated Mohammedans. When therefore Peter the Hermit began to preach, "Jerusalem must be delivered," he obtained a Uvely response. The Latin hymn, urbs zion aurea, by Bernard of Cluny, is char- acteristic of that day; is a historical document in the re- ligion of citizenship: Jerusalem the golden, with milk and honey hlest! Beneath thy contemplation, sink heart and voice oppressed. I know not, Oh I know not, what joys await ws there; What radiancy of glory, what bliss beyond compare. To rescue the "sweet and blessed country that eager hearts expect," the Crusades began. On their way to dehver Jerusalem, the Crusaders be- held Constantinople. This was the only city in Europe that had escaped the barbarian deluge; thanks to the fact that the Danube flows east and west. The rivers of INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 133 western Europe flow north and south, facilitating the downward incursion of the barbaric tribes. But the Danube permitted a stand to be taken against them. This barrier saved Constantinople, whilst Rome and Athens succumbed. Thus through a thousand years, Constantinople had been the refuge of the arts of the classic world. Against the Saracen, in the other direc- tion, she had long been the watcher at the gate of Europe, Because she kept that watch with faithfulness much of the civiUzation we possess to-day is due. For most of the Crusaders, Constantinople was their first sight of a city. And it was a spectacle eminently calculated to impress them. Here schools were flourish- ing; the academies of Rome and the porticoes of Greece, that had hither fled for shelter. Constantinople was the renowned city of the world; famed for her tapestry weavings, her ceramic art, philosophy, forensic oratory, and imposing ceremonial of state. As the Crusaders looked upon this town, home of a so glistering and deco- rated life, a new mental imiverse swam within their ken. It caused a somersault in their point of view; reversed their standards, their judgment of themselves and the world. They contrasted the orderliness and security of life here, with their chaotic countrysides, torn by broils and alarms. They contrasted the distinguished manners of these townsmen with their own crudities of speech and dress and bearing. They contrasted the amphi- theatre, the baths, the colonnades, with the gray dreari- ness of their home country. They contrasted the houses here, of splendid tile and masonry, gardened and win- dowed, with their own turf huts thatched with branches, a hole in the roof for smoke-vent. Passing over into Asia Minor, they saw Smyrna, Ephe- sus, Ancre, Antioch, Gaza; and the civiUzing work in the 134 THE FREE CITY marrow of their spinal system was continued. How dingy seemed their own Europe, when measured against the vivacity and splendors of life here in organized com- munities! The stabihty of this communal existence im- pressed them. Here were towns that boasted twenty centuries of uninterrupted being; so that each generation as it came into the world was caught up by and en- wrapped in a body of civil tradition whereby a refining fire was made to play upon the dross in man's composi- tion. The city, they perceived, was an organization of resources for instruction and humane intercourse; an institution that was lacking in the hfe of Europe. Loath though they were, these Westerners had to concede that the despised Saracen infidel was a more civiUzed being than they were. I mean not to color the picture too highly. Contrasted with the standards of modem material comfort, those Moslem cities would shine with but a sombre light. But in the art of manners, the Saracen of that day was prob- ably more advanced than the average modem. The Mussulman culture was a city culture. Mohammed had had a Mecca and a Medina in his spiritual career. Also the Old Testament stateliness was in his blood. There was in the Moslem faith no hostiHty to cities. They spared the towns they took, and continued the civil traditions. The architecture of the Alhambra attests that they had creative power. There were Moslem uni- versities at Bagdad, Babylon, and Alexandria. Their Cordova in Spain was a center of intellectuaUty and bril- liant culture, whilst Christian Europe was tossing in the hag-ridden years of nightmare. Nothing is more clear than the impression of polish and high deportment which the Moslems made on the Crusader. To the Moslem, in turn, these Westerners appeared vulgarians, raw, unen- INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 135 kindled; given to garlic and other indelicate viands; heavy witted, lumpish in spirit. The beef-bellied, beef-brained Crusaders for the first time saw themselves as others saw them. They compared this garnished civiHzation with their own land where the people ate off the bottom of a barrel for a table; for a seat had a bundle of straw — serfs in mud-walled hutches, cowering at the nod of their seigneur. The contrast cut deep welts in their consciousness. Then at last, on the vision of the Crusaders, lifted the city of cities — the Zion of their dreams. Artists have tried to picture the psychology of these pilgrim hosts as they caught sight for the first time of Jerusalem; have portrayed their dfevoutness of expression, kneehng, mail- clad, and surrounded by the panoply of war. Canvas can present but a feeble image of the reahty. When that city burst into view, it was as when the Delectable Moun- tains and the Gate Beautiful loomed upon the sight of the travellers in Pilgrim's Progress. They had not been dulled, as we modems are, by too much and useless travel. Each new city was to them a fresh wonder. But here was the primate of cities; cradle of their reUgion, where very God had dwelt and been crucified and entombed; Home- land of their souls, to attain which they had braved a thousand dangers, endured a thousand hells of privation. From that time the city form of existence, with its rich ornament and stately decorums, became the goal of striving in every devout pilgrim breast. The Crusaders returned home, missionaries of a civil and urbane organi- zation of life. Now began to be fulfilled that forecast announced by Jesus: Jerusalem became the mother of Free Cities. It was verily the Son of Man coming again in power and great glory. Like a river lost underground, that Palestinian stream of influence had flowed for a 136 THE FREE CITY thousand years, out of the sight of history and men's eyes. Now it reemerged in the form of a hundred municipal republics, dotting Italy and France and Ger- many and the Netherlands and England, So Jerusalem in the days of her exile proved more fecundative than during her Judaic period. As might have been expected, one of the first places where the Free City revived was Rome. Her ancient fame and grandeur had never utterly failed. Charle- magne had had a chair of silver, chased to represent the city of Rome; and another chair representing Con- stantinople. The barbarians had wrought havoc upon Tiber's Town; but her animate stones kept a something of tradition aUve. And now, Arnold of Brescia started her civic resurrection. A monk, and of rapt austere fibre, his heart cried aloud at the corruption in the papal court. There was at the time a struggle in Rome be- tween the local nobility and the pojje. Arnold entered the fight on the side of the nobihty. Soon he became a prominent figure in the controversy. There is a dispute among historians as to whether Arnold was a religious devotee or a political reformer. The debate is its own answer. He was both. He sought to restore the city state of Rome. The return to a munic- ipal commonwealth is a return to life's midmost center, where secularity and sanctity are reunited. Arnold wished to woo those antitjrpes into harmony. He planned to rebuild Rome as a Christian Republic: the oldtime blessed marriage of pohtics and rehgion. He dethroned the pope. Under his leadership much of the city of Rome was built up out of its ruins. Those old words of magic, SENATus POPULUSQUE ROMANUS, became once more a living phrase. A municipal era had recommenced. To be sure, Arnold did not last long. The pope rallied from INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 137 his discomfiture, and got the emperor to aid him. Said this Frederick: "It is not for the people to give laws to the prince, but to obey his commands." Arnold was hung. But the gallowstree lifted him into the sight of all Christendom. Thereafter Rome would not be quiet. A Free City is so instinct with hberty that its brick and mortar become tinctured with the subtle essence. Prussia, seeking to imperialize the German Confederacy, found most trouble with towns like Bremen and Hamburg, whose working people could not forget their aforetime liberties when these were Free Cities. Rome's commonalty has always been a nest of liornets in the cushion of any despot who thought there to make a comfortable seat. Not long after Arnold, "Rome and her rats" made it so disagree- able for the pope that he moved out, nor stopped until he had reached the valley of the Rhone; and for seventy years the papacy pitched camp at Avignon. Now Rienzi arose to take up the unfinished task of Arnold. Rienzi was a worshipper — Hterally — of Rome's ancient glory. An expert in archeology, he con- ducted companies of people through her ruins, and dis- coursed to them on the scenes that had there been enacted. His imagination kindled. He began to think in terms of an ideal commonwealth, the good state — il buono BTATO. By a coup d'etat he wrested control of the city from the turbulent nobles. Then he issued a proclama- tion investing the people with the government and property; a proprietorship that included the lands round about. In this uprising of a popular power hostile to them both, pope and nobles forgot their long-standing quarrel. They joined hands against this upstart city- state. Rienzi, "Last of the Tribunes," was killed, and his doings annulled. 138 THE FREE CITY These events at Rome are a specimen of what was happening in a score of places. A great gust of freedom was whifFmg powerfully through the corridors of Europe. This age saw the first popular parliament in France; Magna Charta in England; in Spain, permission secured from Alfonso of Castile for the Free Cities to send dele- gates to the Cortes; and deputies sent by the Cities in Germany to the imperial Diet. The Albigenses move- ment was in hke manner an assertion of local spirit against the centralizing power of the Holy Roman Empire. The animosity against this rising ferment crops out in the chronicle narrating the suppression of the Albigenses : "The brute and pestilent race, unworthy of the name of men, were cut away by the toil of the faithful, and by God's mercy destroyed." This was the era of The Jacquerie, a wide insurgency of the French peasant population. Wat Tyler and John Ball in England also were preparing. Historians differ as to the exact quality of this wide- spread and simultaneous gusto of hberty.* MunicipaUty, whose principle is teamwork, gives us the clue. The Crusades had taught the people to act together — col- lectivity, the municipal idea; declaring that work-folk are too weak to stand individually against their enemies, and therefore must assemble their social strengths. This new-found principle revealed to the people their omnipo- tence. Against their feudal lords the people put into play the law of cooperation which the Crusades had taught them. The people, restive against their seigneur or baron or bishop, associated themselves to oppose his power. This grouping was the formation of a Free City in that domain. "The air of the town gives freedom," was a medieval proverb. To win their freedom the people had to barricade themselves from the feudal lord. To retain their freedom they had to solidify that barricade INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 139 into a permanent ring of defense; which became the city wall. It wrought in the workers a sense of joint interest, and the practise of acting together. About the year 1100, civic communities began to seek and to obtain from king or church, charters of incorporation against encroach- ment by lay and feudal barons. It is well to fix a clear picture of the birth of Free Cities in this Medieval or Gothic era, as it has come to be called. What we are here witnessing is the rise of the Commons, that Third Estate which was to take its place alongside the Clergy and the Nobles, and to play thenceforward no trivial part in the annals of Europe. This thirteenth century — most wonderful of all the eighteen centuries since Jesus — saw come into being the city repubHcs of Italy; in France, the communes; in Spain, the com- muneros; the Freistadte of Germany; the municipalities of England and Scotland. Freedom was the animating spirit in their estabUshing. So fiercely flamed the hatred between the nobility and these municipal common- wealths, the knights were unwilling to have any of their number Uve in a town; if one of them did so without good and sufficient cause, it ofttimes disbarred him from their tournaments. The town bell was the public voice of the community. And that voice rang for freedom. This spirit of communal sovereignty got into some of the names, to this day: Freiburg, in Germany; Villefranche, in France; Villafranca, in Spain. At Laon we have preserved a contemporary document. The nobles in that region had long been accustomed to capture one of the common people and hold him for a ransom. The bishop took sides with these oppressors of the workingclass; was himself their cruellest oppressor. He would hand over all who displeased him, to be tortured by a negro slave that he kept largely for that purpose. 140 THE FREE CITY Forty of the peopJe swore to kill him. Learning of it, he said, "What can you expect these folk to do by their commotions? If my negro John were to seize the most terrible one of them by the nose, the fellow would not dare to give him even a growl. "VNTiat they yesterday called their 'Conmiune' I have forced them to give up, at least as long as I Uve." But the next day a cry rang through the town: "Commune!" "Commune!" "Com- mune!" It was the signal for insurrection. Bands of men besieged the episcopal palace, entered, and found the bishop hiding in a cask at the bottom of the cellar. They killed him. Not long thereafter the king granted to Laon a charter for a Conmiune. In forming one of these Free Cities, the people were accustomed to join them- selves to each other by a solemn oath known as The Conjuration. In 1230 John, Bishop of Eppes, obtained from the emperor a decree forbidding "conjurations" and "conununes" in all the kingdom of Germany. These commimes were hterally commonwealths — a conmiunity of interest and property and person; that is, they felt, thought, planned as one. We shall see these Giothic folk working miracles of art achievement that are the despair of modems. The secret of that art baptism is to be found in this oneness of the civic tie whereby the magic of crowd contagion and mass activity was Uberated. At fairs, if a buyer was tricked, the laws of the fair held not only the trickster but aU the other tradesmen from that town responsible; and the goods of any of them could be seized to compensate the victim. "All the men of the Commune," read the charter of SenHs, "shall aid each other with all their power." The charter of Abbeville commanded: "Each of the men of the Com- mune shall be faithful to his fellow, come to his succor, lend him aid and counsel." INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 141 The community was the source of power and authority; even of the authority to work. The town council por- tioned out the right to practise a trade to a guild of workmen. We find the gold-beaters' guild, the iron- workers' guild, guilds of pewter makers, candle chandlers, ale brewers, naUmakers, button makers, glovers, lantern makers, potters, rope makers, wire drawers, jewellers, gem cutters; and so forward. The community not only had power; it accepted the responsibility that goes with power. The city saw to it that every man was educated in order to be able to work; and then supplied him with work. Unemployment would have been regarded as civic incompetency and municipal collapse. In the towns of Flanders the city bell was called the Werkklock, because it began and stopped the day's tasks. The chiefs of the work guilds were not elected by the workers, but were appointed by the civic magistracy; and their by-laws were drawn up by the same public body. Work was compulsory. A strike was accounted a crime against the commonwealth. The artisan was re- garded as an official in the service of the municipaUty; and he was protected against competition both from in- side and outside the state. An artisan was not per- mitted to undersell another; he was absolutely forbidden to have recourse to advertisements, or to boast his wares to the disparaging of another's. At Saint Omer a market ordinance forbade a vendor even to greet the passers-by. Industry was a municipal affair. No one was permitted to crush his fellow. There was a wholesome spirit of rivalry; but not between man and man. The rivalry was between all of the workers in one Commune, seeking to make their town more beautiful and famous than the Communes round about. The citizens were connected with the municipality, 142 THE FREE CITY not as individuals but through their craft guilds. Police ser- vice was rendered by all the able-bodied, each taking his turn at the "watch and ward." In Paris we find the Old Clothes' Guild securing partial exemption from this service : * ' No one who is 60 years old, nor those whose wives are with child, and no one who has been bled, need to share the watch." The guilds had a legal standing. The power to en- force regulations on their members was backed by the arm of the state. The Commune guaranteed the eco- nomic well-being of all; and enforced obedience from all. The guilds were for service, not for selfishness. The municipahty was sovereign over them. Athens of old had met the tendency of a guild of workmen to set their departmental interest ahead of the interest of the entire community; and had severely disallowed this drift. So with the Gothic cities. No set of workmen were per- mitted to account themselves above other workmen. In one Commune we find that even the mendicants were recognized: the Beggars' Guild. The municipal republic is the only political form that has ever been able to en- courage the growth of trade unions and at the same time retain the lordship over those unions so as to direct their energies away from private advantage into channels of pubhc well-being. The Gothic guilds maintained schools, arranged technical training and apprenticeships, cared for orphans, decorated festivals for the people; they built the hospitals that, along with the city halls and cathedrals, stand so wondrously as the monuments of the period. It was an age of brotherhood, literally and actually. The guildsmen were citizens first, and industrialists afterwards. Thus they had an allegiance superior than to their trade; were human beings. By the principle of collectivity the workers had possessed themselves of power against their feudal seigneurs. Now, from adding Hberty unto them, INDUSTRIAL DEMOCRACIES 143 this same principle of municipality went on to ennoble and sweeten those workers. We saw that the Great Common- wealthsman discom-aged the accumulation of a private for- tune: "Seek ye first the city of God and its righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you." The taking of anxious thought for one's Hvehhood was regarded by him as a breach of confidence in the Commune. The Gothic commonwealths caught up from Him this idea of the collectivity, and cherished it. One of the "best sellers" in that day was the Romance of the Rose. Here is a passage from it: "Three cruel vengeances pursue those wretches that hoard up their worthless wealth: sore labor in the winning it, their fear to lose it, and lastly the most bitter grief that they must leave their hoards behind. If they were fain, who hold so much gold, to shower around their bounty unto those in need thereof, and nobly lend it free from measurement of usury, I guess that then throughout the land were seen no pauper man, nor starveling purchased woman." This was the age that saw the coming of the Friars: men whose apostolate had for its purpose to carry the gospel from the monasteries out into the busy haunts of men. It was the age of St. Francis, and of his plea for fraternity, even to the extent of returning to evangelical poverty. The poverello's contempt for riches attracted multitudes of men and women. "The good order of Christ," it was called; democracy towards the lowliest human, and comprehending even the birds and flowers of the meadow. The birth of Free Cities caught up all classes in a communalistic ardor. Rarely has the world witnessed another so impassioned era of fellowship. In- stead of the self-seekings and self-importances of the Dark Ages, men now learned the principle of collectivity. And loveUest achievings were the consequence. CHAPTER XI THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE THE Gothic communes arose in a movement by the workers for freedom; that is, in order to secure to themselves the full product of their toil. Free people are those who labor, and who enjoy the fruits of their labor. All others are in slavery. "It is good and comely for one to eat and to drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labor that he taketh under the sun all the days of his Ufe, which God giveth him; for it is his portion." By collective effort, the toilers found that they could overcome the knight, baron, or feudal seigneur; and that, by continuing the association, they could perpetuate the emancipation. That was the origin of those Free Cities. Then the nobles adopted other tactics. They lo- cated their castles near to the trade routes along which the suppUes came to those towns; and began a systematic pillage of the convoys. The Rhine was the principal route between Italy and the cities of North Germany and the Netherlands. The castles on the banks of that river — picturesque now in their ruins — were robber strongholds. For a noble to engage in a productive occupation dis- graced and declassed him. Even to associate with these burghers — as the inhabitants of the burghs, the forti- fied cities, were called — was a blemish on the seignorial escutcheon. So, they got their Uving by pillaging the trade caravans. To guard the routes, we soon find the 144 THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 145 Cities making highway regulations. The law read that roads leading from one market town to another must be cleared, as to the bushes and underbrush, for a space of two hundred feet on each side, to prevent men from "liu-king in them to do hurt." From that, the Cities went on to a further step: they federated. These federations were purely for defense. Military might for purposes of aggression did not come into their mind. The municipal state is al- ways a civiHan state. These Gothic municipaHties arose to bring to an end the Dark Ages which had been char- acterized by competition between man and man, leading to private declarations of war and physical force. So habitual had the scufflings become that the Church had sought to establish a "Peace of God," which forbade warfarings from Thursday evening till Monday morning of each week. The workers at last became weary of so turbulent a condition of affairs. They wished to be something other than the men-at-arms of a feudal chief- tain, swaggering, brawling, pillaging. In order to es- tablish a pacific form of society, so as to lead their respective calhngs in peace, they associated themselves into Free Cities. In the charter obtained by the town of Lorris, one of the articles read: "No burgher shall go on an expedition, on foot or on horseback, from which he cannot return the same day to his home if he desires." A soldiery that insists on returning home every night, would not be of much use for military purposes. In the charter of the League of Rhine Cities, 1291, it is almost pathetic to note the reiterated yearnings for a peaceable mode of life: "To secure these things which are for the pubhc good, we will spare neither ourselves nor our possessions. We will mutually aid each other with all our strength in securing redress from our griev- 146 THE FREE CITY ances. We decree that no member of the League shall fmnish food, arms, or aid to anyone who opposes the Peace. No citizen of any of the Cities in the League shall associate with such, or give them coxmsel or support. If anyone is convicted of doing so, he shall be expelled from the city, and punished so severely in his property that he will be a warning to others not to do such things. If any knight molest us anywhere outside of the walled towns, he is breaking the Peace; and we will in some way inflict due punishment on him and his possessions, no matter who he is. We wish to be protectors of the peas- ants, if they will observe the Peace with us. But if they make war on us, and if we catch them in any of the Cities, we will punish them. We wish the Cities to destroy all the ferries except those in their immediate neighborhood; this to be done in order that the enemies of the Peace may be deprived of all means of crossing the Rhine. Under threat of punishment we forbid any citizen to revile the lords, although they may be our enemies. For although we wish to punish them for the violence they have done us, yet before making war on them we will first warn them to cease from injuring us. We desire that each City shall try to persuade its neigh- boring Cities to swear to keep the Peace. If they do not do so, they will be entirely cut off from the Peace. We wish all members of the League, lords and all the others, to arm themselves and prepare for war, so that whenever we call upon them we shall find them ready." This federation idea spread to the Swiss communities; so that we behold them forming aUiance against the House of Hapsburg. The confederacy of Swiss communes, by producing instances of valor such as that of Wilham Tell and Arnold von Winkelried, demonstrates that the federal plan of union is more conducive to heroism than the THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 147 nationalist principle of fusion. A free community has a stamina and capacity for resistance, not possessed by a subject people. Say these communes of Switzerland: "Know all men that we, the people of the Valley of Uri, the conununity of the Valley of Schwiz, and the mountaineers of the Lower Valley, have solemnly agreed and bound ourselves by oath to aid and defend each other with all our might and main; with our hves and property; both within and without our boundaries each at his own expense; against every enemy whatever who shall attempt to molest us. We have decreed that we will accept no magistrate in our Valleys who is not a native or resident among us. Every difference among us shall be decided by the wisest men; and whoever shall reject their award shall be compelled by the other confederates. If internal quarrels arise and one of the parties shall re- fuse fair satisfaction, the confederates shall support the other party. This covenant for our common weal shall, God wilHng, endure forever." The municipal republics in North Italy were in perhaps a more necessitous situation than the others. They were between the pope on one side, who from his seat in Rome asserted imperial prerogatives; and the emperor on the other side, head of the Holy German Empire. Accordingly, Florence and her sister republics in the valley of the Arno alUed themselves in what was known as the Tuscan League. Milan and her neighbor republics, in like fashion, formed themselves into the Lombard League. Thereupon they put both pope and emperor into a due posture of reverence towards these Communes that were so mightily emerging. The Battle of Legnano, when the Milanese sent the army of the emperor scurrying back through the passes of the Alps into Germany, is one of the notable events in the history of human freedom. 148 THE FREE CITY Along the Baltic arose still another federation — the Hanseatic Cities. The engrossment of the German em- peror with his Tuscan and Lombard cities so energetically mutinous against his suzerainty, gave to the Baltic towns the wholesome inattentiveness which enabled them to learn the lesson of self-help. They were not long in demonstrating that their interests were not towards the empire, but towards their civic hearthstones. Com- plained the Emperor Maximilian: "If one of these traders only lost a bag of pepper, he disturbed the whole empire about it; but if his imperial crown were in jeopardy not a man would stir." Bremen, Hamburg, and Luebeck were the original confederates. To this nucleus, one after one other towns joined themselves. Till finally the Hanse Cities extended from Norway to the Alps, and from Russia on the east, far into the Low Country and France. This international sway they exercised is of high significance. It shows that the boundary Unes drawn by nationality are artificial; frontiers arbitrarily drawn to suit commercial or dynastic ends; there is no spot on earth where the boundaries of race and nation- aUty coincide. The Hanseatics made the City the supreme unit. And on that system they organized all of northern Europe, irre- spective of language or race or position. Nominally they were under the sway of the empire. But this was a for- mality preserved for the sake of appearances. Emperor Charles IV, though he had expressed disapproval of such confederations, made an about-face and paid overtures that he might become their head. Courteously, but with steel-hard resolution, they rejected his advances. These Hanseatic Communes were a true federalism; that is, they retained the autonomy of the local units; they never fused. For their joint business they held THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 149 Councils or Diets. The Diets met in the various cities and to it the Free Towns in the League sent delegates. But the Diet had no binding authority. The call for a Diet specified the business that would be taken up. Thereupon each city held what were known as "Prede- hberations," to instruct its delegates in the matter that the Diet was to consider. When some joint action had been agreed upon, there was still no coercion on the local units. A city that broke discipline was "imhansed"; excluded from the federation. This principle of punish- ment was advocated by Oliver Wendell Holmes against South Carolina, in preference to the application of vio- lence, when she was nullifying an act of Congress: Go then, our rash sister, afar and aloof; Run wild in the sunshine away from our roof. But when your heart aches and your feet have grown sore, Remember the pathway that leads to our door. A city excluded from the Hanseatic League was well nigh given over to death. The Great Ban not only separated the culprit city from the League, but forbade any of the other cities to have intercourse with her. Nor was the ban lifted until the offender, by money payment, by penances, by pilgrimages, by humble sup- plications, had testified to the sincerity of her repentance. The Lesser Ban did not deprive the city of intercourse with other cities, but merely took away her rights at the Diet. For still lesser offenses, the punishment was a fine. Severest penalties were denounced against any Hanse municipaUty that appealed from the Diet to any prince or lord, or to the emperor. One of the ordinances of the League decreed that a vessel lost on the coast did not become wholly the possession of the natives at that spot; 150 THE FREE CITY this, to discourage the illumination of false beacons whereby vessels were lured to their destruction for the sake of the wreckage. Luebeck refused to agree to this ordinance. She was boycotted by the rest of the League. Whereupon we read of her: "The people starved, tH markets were deserted, grass grew in the streets, and the inhabitants left in large numbers." The Hanseatic League was powerful. The King of Denmark once invaded their rights, attacking one of their cities and pillaging it. The Hanse Towns declared war upon him, and fought him to his knees. Kingdoms treated with them on equal terms; emperors courted their good will. They poUced the Baltic and the North Seas until the pirates that had infested these waters left off and betook themselves to an honest Uvelihood. Nor was this power wielded for militaristic or aggressive in- vasion. Their pacifist spirit led them, if anything, into an excess of the compromising policy. When they had brought Denmark's king to book, they exacted of him control of some of his ports, until the damage he had caused them should be recompensed. But to collect even tills rightful indemnity became quickly distasteful. Long before the stipulated term they relinquished his territory; preferring to lose money rather than collect it by mili- taristic methods. Northern Europe, after five centuries of Dark Ages, had presented one of the blackest infernos of hell-chaos that the ordering mind of man has ever been called upon to confront. The Hanseatic Free Cities took that heU, and transformed it into Gothic architecture and sculpture, which travellers to-day journey thousands of miles to gaze at. So warm was the social union en- gendered by these free municipahties that two of them, Hamburg and Bremen, endured until our own day. It was not until 1888 that these two were finally brought to THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 151 surrender their independence and enter the Prussian customs union. Behind the walls and bastions of Gothic communes, civil Hberty took root; civil liberty, which is another ^Ift^t^ 'for industrial liberty. There were guilds of Free Masons, Free Carpenters, Free Blacksmiths, Free Goldsmitha In Florence one of the far-famed magis- trates was Michael di Lando, a laborer elevated to the post of rulership, and who mightily puUed the teeth of the recalcitrant nobles. This Commune on the Amo was a household; Uvely enough, to be sure — "a place where everybody speaks his mind." But, for all the disputings, they were citizens melted into oneness by civic pride; as that Gahleo, "who loved the Commune marvellously." Here in Florence the humbler classes were known as "the lesser arts"; it was understood that everybody should have a part in the creation of things beautiful. The entire political fabric was based on the principle of productivity. The world's work in that day was not performed by individuals. In very truth the individual as such hardly existed. To-day we hear much of "personal liberty"; by which is meant an individualistic ordering of one's life, a following of egoistic whims and vagaries. The Gothic era knew that Uberty is a conmiunal possession; that it is but another word for fellowship. A workman, by reason of his productive bent, is not skilled in the use of arms. When isolated, therefore, he is defenceless against the exploiter, who makes a specialty of the arts of violence and aggression. The Dark Ages had precisely been a time of "personal Uberty." And the result we saw — a wild-jangling confusion; thievings and quarrellings and slaughter; ending finally in the serfdom of the toiler class beneath the seigneur's mail-clad might. MunicipaUty is 152 THE FREE CITY the principle of collectivity, as opposed to anarchistic in- dividualism. When the workingclass discovered this principle, it obtained freedom; began to enjoy the full product of its toil. In these commonwealths the ego was a part of some- thing larger. That Something Larger was first the munic- ipaUty; and then the confederation of municipaUties, extending to the ends of the earth. The individual sur- rendered his private sovereignty to the commune. Work was a collective thing. They sociaUzed their produc- tivity; and with a thoroughness that moderns, in our divisive unaffectionate day, have diflficulty to understand. The ego gave himself to the cormnunity. But, in return, the community gave itself to him. So his self-limitation turned out to be self-expansion. The Free Cities had no bowels of mercy towards any- one who "in ease and sloth doth Hve on the sweat of others, and puffeth himself up in lustful pride." In Paris we find the regulations: "Retailers ought not to buy in advance, of a merchant, eggs and cheese deUver- able on his next trip." And the reason was stated: "The rich will sell back everything as dear as it pleases them to do." There were severe guild regulations "to restrain the folly and joUity of the apprentices." The fatherly hand was stern, but it also was just. In a Paris guild we find it recorded: "We have commanded the said master to treat his apprentice by the matters con- tained in the said contract, without having him beaten by his wife; but that he should beat him himself if he misbehaved." That word "fatherly" quite expresses the relation be- tween the elders in any craft, and the youngsters entering it. A social bond held the master and his apprentice together. The learner of a trade passed through three THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 153 distinct stages. He began as an Apprentice — the Lehryahre. After three or five years he became an art pilgrim — the Wanderyahre. Dm-ing this second period he journeyed from city to city, broadening his powers. This was his Jom'nejmian stage. On returning, he was set to do an original piece of work, as his examination for entrance into the Master rank. Whence we derive the word "masterpiece." The work had to show a finished and competent craftsmanship, or the title of "Master" was denied him. Because of this visiting of Journeymen from commune to commune, each guild was a sort of hospitaller to those of its craft who were strangers in the city. Masons, since their work takes them from home much of the time, and for long durations, were especially given to hospitaUty towards visiting fellowcraftsmen. We see in Freemasons to-day an elaborate set of signs for identifying strangers; and a large hberahty in making an authenticated member at home amongst them. The Freemasonic lodges, with their stateliness of ritual and their fraternal features, are a Hneal perpetuator of the guilds of brick and stone masons of this period. These Gothic cities had, as we saw, a historic root in the Crusades. Accordingly the Freemasons' claim to a lineage dating mystically from Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem, is tinctured with authen- ticity. Modern readers will get a fair idea of the religion of labor as these Gothic guilds developed it, by im- agining a trade union in our day carrying on its weekly meetings with the solemnity of temper and majesty of ceremonial that characterize a lodge of Freemasons. That apron worn as so proud a part of their regalia was in the Gothic era no mere ornamentation, but a service- able part of the workclothes of a high-minded day laborer toiling in brick and terra cotta and stone. 154 THE FREE CITY This majesty and largeness of demeanor on the part of those workmen, and which touched their product into so strange a beauty, was due to the civic mind that was in them. The worker wrought not for himself primarily, nor to a gainful end, but for the community. The burgher's person and goods belonged to the city; could be requisitioned at any time. Each citizen had taken an oath to the Commune. An isolated worker was unthinkable. All were answerable for each. The indi- vidual carried in his hands the fair name of his munic- ipaUty. Therefore he sought to maintain himself and his product to the height of the occasion. The cauldrons of Dinant, the woolen stuffs of Bruges and Ypres and Ghent and Louvain, were inwrought with citizenly self- reverence. The city of Arras became so famous for her tapestries that in Shakespeare's Hamlet we read "behind the arras," where "behind the tapestry" is what is meant. In Paris we find the haberdashers complaining that there had been put out "several pieces of bad work, to the damage of all the commonweal every day, by reason of the lack of restrictions." As late as 1456, two grocers and a woman assistant were burned aUve in Nuremburg for selling adulterated goods. Guild law said that wares must be "in the eyes of all, good, irreproachable and with- out flaw." Municipal ordinances compelled an artisan to practise his trade openly at his window, to facihtate in- spection. This mania for quality in workmanship is witnessed in the contract Torregiano took for the making of a tomb. He was required to make it "well, surely, cleanly, and workmanUke, curiously and substantially." Florence was famed for her workers in woolen; one of the rules of which guild required that a label be put on every piece of cloth, stating the number of yards, and any imperfections. Often the regulations forbade work THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 155 after nightfall, "by reason that no man can work so neatly by night as by day." The eleventh century, when the Gothic communes were getting into their stride, was a time of reHgious awakening. A municipal commonwealth, as we have seen, is always a theocracy. Within those circumscribed frontiers, the closeness of contact brings about an inter- action between the dreamer of dreams and the doer of deeds; an interfusing of spirituaHty and worldliness, to the advantage of both. The Gothic commonwealths were not so entirely sovereign as the city-states of the classic world. But in the measure that they were Free Cities, they displayed the same union of the sacred and the secular, which we saw in Athens and Jerusalem and early Rome. In the thirteenth century, the Gothic commonwealths were at their highest. That century was Christianity's strongest time. It was the era of the cathedral builders, and the uprearing of those hotels de ville that stand now in so stately a magnificence. The Gothic is a reUgious style of architecture. It extended to all of the buildings of that period, including even bams and sheepfolds. There was no distinction between sacred and profane; life in its totality was held to be sacred. The upward-striving note of aspiration marked all the building of the period. The private houses had pointed arches over the doors and windows; excellent glasswork, traceries, finials, and usually a Christ or Madonna in a niche over the entrance. The Gothic was not a specially designed school of construction for use only in stately edifices. It was the informing spirit in aU the life of the time. Everything was religious; because everything was done to the Spirit of Fellowship. India and Japan were coadjutors with the Mediter- ranean world in estabUshing civihzation upon earth. 156 THE FREE CITY And in both of those countries life also organized itself on a basis of industrial communes, devotionally admin- istered. As to Japan, Lafcadio Hearn testifies: *'A11 craftsmen and all laborers formed guilds, and prohibited competition as imdertaken for purely personal ad- vantage. Nearly similar forms of organization are maintained by laborers to-day, in the old communistic manner. Apprentices bound to a master-workman were boarded, lodged, clothed and even educated by their patron, with whom they might hope to pass the rest of their Uves. These paternal and filial relations have helped to make life pleasant and labor cheerful. The quahty of all industrial production must suffer much when they disappear." "To the Indian land-and-village-system," reports Bird- wood, "we owe altogether the hereditary cimning of the Hindoo craftsmen. It has created for him simple plenty and a scheme of democratic life in which all are coordi- nated parts of one undivided and indivisible whole; the provision and respect due to every man in it being en- forced under the highest rehgious sanctions. The village communities remain in full vigor all over the peninsula. The religious trade union villagers have remained stead- fast." And of the Indian craftsman he says: "He knows nothing of the desperate struggle for existence which oppresses life and crushes the soul out of the English workingman. He has his assured place, in- herited from father to son for a hundred generations. This at once reheves him from an incalculable weight of cares, and enables him to give to his work, which is also a religious function, that contentment of mind, and leisure and pride and pleasure in it for its own sake, which are essential to all artistic excellence." Of that communal life, Coomaraswamy to whom I THE CITY STATE IS A WORK STATE 157 owe these quotations, has gathered much evidence. "In the East," he says, "there is traditionally a peculiar re- lation of devotion between master and pupil; it is thought that the master's secret, his real inward method so to say, is best learned by the pupil in devoted personal service. And so we get a beautiful and affectionate relation be- tween the apprentice and master. I have seen a man of thirty receive wages in the presence of his teacher and hand them to him as the master, with the gentlest pos- sible respect and grace; and as gently and dehcately they were received and handed back, waiving the right to retain." Very ancient of date, these communalistic craft guilds of India. We read of "a village of carpenters in which five hundred carpenters lived. They would go up the river in a vessel and enter the forest, where they would shape beams and planks for house-building, and put to- gether the framework of houses, numbering all the pieces. These they then brought down to the river bank and put them all on board. Then rowing downstream again, they would build houses to order as it was required of them. After which they went back for more materials; and in this way they made their hvelihood." We learn of a "smith's village of a thousand houses; people came from the villages around to have razors, axes, plowshares, and goads made." A passage in the Ramayana de- scribes an ancient procession of citizens, including "well known goldsmiths"; also gem-cutters, weavers, potters, and ivory-workers. And in the Harivamsa: "The amphitheater was filled by the citizens anxious to behold the games. The pavilions of the different companies and corporations, vast as mountains, were decorated with banners bearing upon them the implements and emblems of the several crafts." 158 THE FREE CITY The Kashmir community was also — the fame still survives — in much repute for grace of woolen work; a sense for line and color on the part of her weavers, and a deft touch of hand. Lawrence, writing of the E^shmir Valley, tells the secret: In the old days, says he, the public authorities "exercised a rigorous supervision over the quality of the raw material and the manufactured article. In the good days of the shawl trade no spurious wool was brought in to be mixed with the real shawl wool of Central Asia; and woe betide the weaver who did bad work, or the silversmith who was too Uberal with his alloy. There is no such supervision nowadays. Com- petition has lowered prices; and the real masters of weaving, silver and copperwork have to bend to the time and supply their customers with cheap inferior work." The communes of the East prove it; the conmiunes of the classic Mediterranean period prove it; the communes of the Gothic era prove it: in fellowship alone stands in- dustrial freedom. Whose poUtical form is mimicipality. And whose product is beauty. "Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat; but how can one be warm alone? And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken." CHAPTER XII THE AFTERGLOW GOTHIC art is pre-eminently characterized by a law of liberty. Ruskin's sure intuition made this discoveiy. But he did not connect that hberty with the industrial and poHtical life of the period. Gothic art is emancipated art, because the workmen who wrought it, secure behind the moats and ramparts of Free Cities, were no longer fearful of their hege lord's displeasure. Every land is a holy land, where freedom has her habi- tat. Those Medieval commonwealths were the offspring of a rehgious revival, the Crusades; and were themselves the continuation of that revival. The guilds had each its patron saint, and usually a church that it regarded as its home. In Cologne, neighboring the great cathedral, stands a smaller church; tradition says that this humbler edifice was built by the workmen during their rest hours, while working on the large building. At Lincoln, Eng- land, we find the painters, gilders, stainers, and alabaster men organized into the Guild of St. Luke. They cele- brated the feast day of that saint each year with a common dinner, "for love and amity and good communication to be had for the several weal of the fraternity." For a labor union nowadays to call itself after a Saint, center its life around a church, and conduct its meetings with prayer and ritual, would excite world comment. In the Gothic era it was regarded as the natural thing. The 159 160 THE FREE CITY Free City was their religion. The religion of citizenship i*? but another way of saying, devout handicraftsmen: the marriage of worship and labor. To-day an architect shuts himself in an oflSce, and the "hands" out in the stoneyard and on the building carr} but his plannings. In that day the architect was simply the master-workman; he toiled on the scaffold along with his men; and those masterpieces of architecture are the result. To-day a trophy cup is designed by an "ex- pert." The drawing is then passed upon by the "super- visors of art." Then it is given to the "operatives" to shape into metal. The result is the mediocrity we modems behold: a shiny vessel of silver, quite excellent as a sample of machine burnishing; but devoid of quaint- ness or strength or character. To-day, people work at their worship. In that day people worshipped at their work. In the Gothic period the workman was his own de- signer. Every producer was an educated producer. He was a civic laborer, a pubUc-spirited mechanic. In the product of his hands the honor of the municipaUty re- posed. Poor workmanship would have disgraced the state, of which he was a constituent and enthusiastic member. The modem cleavage between "manuals" and "intellectuals" would have seemed to them incom- prehensible. The village carpenter was also a wood carver. The oak screens of that day, with that sinuous linaa-fold pattern now treasured in museums, was the work of day-laborers; hkewise the furniture, wain- scotting, pulpits, and stalls in the churches; and the carved oak panellings in the houses. Nowadays a lock or hinge of the Middle Age, rusty perhaps and with the wood crumbling away, is cherished under glass cases; the rugged grace of it and the magical THE AFTERGLOW 161 trait of humanness that was forged into it, give it a preciousness beyond gold and silver. That iron work was the output of the village blacksmith. In forging a door bolt or grating, he was not a subaltern blindly following a blueprint drawn by some absent designer. That blacksmith was one of the citizen-owners of the commonwealth. In working for the fame of his city he was working for the dearest possession of his life. Not only his pair of arms; his soul too was engaged at that anvil. In hammering the iron into shape, he was ex- pressing his vision of life. So he wrought joyously. Iron assumed amazing ductility. In the hand of the locksmith the toughest metals took on submissiveness. Amid soot and cinders the burly ironsmith put into his product a tender craftsmanship and delicacy of taste. It was, I say, a rehgious revival. An age of genius. Conventionahty was frowned upon. Spontaneity was everything. There is no absolute symmetry in Gothic art — that is why it is art. If they put two balancing steeples on a church, one of them was sure to be higher than the other. Small windows pierced where con- venience dictated. Rules of formalized procedure were cast to the winds : let the workman express himseK at all hazards. And this absence of orderliness proved to be the highest orderliness. The fact that they were all working to a common end — the Commune's glory — gave to their separate doings a wizardry of unification. These toilers were not individualists, they were com- munaUsts. So, private whims and fads and eccentrici- ties did not emerge. They could trust each man to work under his own soul's dictation; because the soul within him was the PubUc Soul, overruling his private thought to the social good. Sometimes this freedom had most unconventional re- 162 THE FREE CITY suits; as the "bestiaries." At Chartres Cathedral one of the stone workers, wishing to make his contribution, carved the statue of a jackass playing a l3rre. A modern Building Committee would sternly reject such an offer- ing, as something sacrilegious. But Chartres did not reject it. A droUerie? yes. But it was the best that this particular workman could contrive; it was his origi- nal contribution. Therefore it was accepted and given an honorable place in the structure. And — so holy is the heart of a workingman when expressing itself un- fettered — that Donkey-playing-the-lyre blends without note of dissonance in one of the most holy and successful pieces of architecture our planet can boast. In city conmionwealths life is picturesque. The charm of those Gothic towns is the human hberty that presided over their building. Houses niche themselves at unexpected places in the street. Original thought starts forth at every corner to surprise one. The whole fabric is quaint with naive unconventional conceits. Henry Adams' "Mount St. Michel" is rich in illustra- tion of this Gothic splendor. We owe that book to Ralph Adams Cram, who of all Uving artists incarnates the spirit of that God-intoxicated era most perfectly. I quote from those pages an account of the constructing of that cathedral at Chartres. Bishop Hugo, observing the community at work, reported: "The inhabitants of Chartres have combined to aid in the construction of their church by transporting the materials. They admit no one into their company unless he has been to confes- sion, has renounced enmity and revenges, and has recon- ciled himself with his foes. That done, they elect a chief, under whose direction they conduct their wagons in silence and with humihty." The quarries were more than five miles away. Some of the blocks of stone were THE AFTERGLOW 163 massive; and, except by mass action on a large scale, could not have been handled. In a letter to Tutbury Abbey in England, Abbot Haimon also described that spectacle of nobles and burghers toiling hand in hand: "Who has ever seen, who has ever heard tell in times past, that men brought up in honor and wealth, that nobles — men and women — have bent their haughty necks to the harness of carts, and that like beasts of burden they have dragged to the abode of Christ these wagons, loaded with wines, grains, oil, stone, wood, and all that is necessary for the wants of life for the construc- tion of the church. Often when a thousand persons are attached to the chariot — so great is the difficulty — yet they march in such silence that not a murmur is heard. When they halt on the road, nothing is heard but pure and suppliant prayer. They forget all hatred; discord is thrown far aside; debts are remitted; the unity of hearts is established. But if anyone is so far advanced in evil as to be unwilling to pardon an offender, his of- fering is instantly thrown from the wagon as impure; and he himself shamefully excluded from the society of the holy. When they have reached the church, they arrange the wagons about it like a spiritual camp; and during the whole night they celebrate by hymns and canticles. On each wagon they light tapers and lamps. Afterwards the priests close the ceremony by processions which the people follow with devout hearts." Every important community in England and France and Germany and Spain and Italy was now building its cathedral or town hall; in healthy emulation to make their building more sumptuous and grand than the one in the neighboring commune. This was the age of poetry. Hans Sachs the cobbler, and his Meistersingers at Nurem- burg; the Niebelungen Lied; the Cid; the Arthur 164 THE FREE CITY Legends; minnesingers and troubadours. Arnolfo was building the duomo at Florence, with Ghiberti assisting and Dante looking on. Not only were these major arts flourishing. The minor arts also contributed their quota. Bell founders cast their metal with an alloy that retains its tone better perhaps than any bells man has been able to cast since. The stained windows show secrets of glass-working that now are lost. Needlework attained much deftness. Missals were richly illuminated. The guild towns of Flanders were producing music masters for all the rest of Europe. Universities sprang up; impulse that started the scientific era, and which has come to its blossoming only in our day. In that period the universities of Oxford, Paris, and Bologna were laying their foundations. Venetian glass, and the piazza of San Marco, were making that island RepubUc world-famous. Bruges and Ghent and Louvain were erecting those civic structures now so notable a feature of the Low Country. Nuremburg was building her burgher homes; that ex- panse of gables, in all the naivete and charm of affection- ate workmanship. Florence with her loggia was no whit behind. Decidedly, the Dark Ages were at an end. The sun of municipality was arisen, and had vanished the old sad night. The most luminous day man's history had seen, since the Mediterranean Communes a thousand years before. Of that Gothic day of blaze and power, the Renais- sance was the sunset; a parting outburst, as the shining light disappeared below the horizon. Like many a sunset, the Renaissance was in some ways more gorgeous than had been the noonday. By its very excess of heat the noon sun consumes away all mist, and shines with a power unrecognized because the heat is converted directly into the fructifying energy of the soil. In its going down. THE AFTERGLOW 165 the sun is not so vivifying a presence; and for that reason is often more showy. The lessening warmth has permitted vapors to condense into cloud formation; which now reflect the rays of the sun into figures and overpowering color masses. An ensemble of such names as Leonardo, Michael Angelo, Benvenuto, the Delia Robbias, Lippo Lippi, Donatello, Andrea del Sarto, Bartolomeo, Albrecht Diirer, the Holbeins, Velasquez, Murillo, sparkles with a splendor not often witnessed by our Uttle Earth at one and the same time. Despite the spectacular beauty of it, however, the Renaissance was truly an age of decline. This is notice- able in its architecture. As to painting and sculpture, these arts are conservative in their underlying principles; can carry over into one age the power that had been ac- cumulated in the age that had gone before. But archi- tecture is the social art, and is quickly responsive to a new temper in society. Gothic architecture had sub- ordinated every part to the whole. Because the Gothic builders were citizens; that is, they had lost their ego- isms in devotion to the commonwealth. Each incorpo- rated his lesser plan in the master dream. To sustain the fortunes of their city, had been their soUcitude. Subordinating all things to municipal success, they took no shame to work in lowly tasks. In their building, this quaUty crops out. No matter how bewildering a wealth of detail, the parts possess a mystic affinity with each other and with the whole; all redundancy pruned away. Not so. Renaissance architecture. The Gothic spirit of citizenship was now decaying. That is another way of saying, private wishings bulked larger than communal glory. Individualism supplanted municipahsm. Men became proud in heart. The work of man's hand was not long in betraying the change. Architecture lost its 166 THE FREE CITY dignity; went off into meaningless ornamentation; vol- uptuous, ornate, excessive. The Gothic had decorated construction; Renaissance builders constructed decora- tion. At first the change was slight; so that early Re- naissance architecture is still restrained and simplified. But a new temper has seated itself deep in the crowd- mass; both gentlemen and artisans are sunk in pleasure. So the architecture exhibits a progressive decadence. Details of a building are amplified for their own sake. Selfishness — the accentuation of the parts of society against the whole — had gained the dominion. And art, which is always a reflex of the social temper, went off in the same centrifugal dispersion. The Renaissance was morally bankrupt; and declares this fact, in the pre- dominance of horizontal lines over the vertical. There was a loss of truth and vitality. In a chaos of whim- sicalities, unity disappeared. What was the cause: Commercialism; another way of saying, big states began to supplant the small city com- monwealths. Frontiers permit the people to regulate the money-makers. So the money-makers contrived huge national aggregates wherein frontiers were obliterated. Then the commercially-minded had uninterrupted sway. The commercial spirit signifies private advantage. The Gothic spirit had emphasized communal advantage. Arising as a protest against the individualist temper of the Dark Ages, those Communes had enshrined the principle of association. And we saw what a bright il- lumination that fire of fellowship kindled. Those folk were not egos; they were citizens. But selfish men crept in. As it happened in that classic era we reviewed, so again it came to pass. The artist soul is gentle-minded, tender, unsuspecting. The more artist he, the more is he childhke. Jesus loved this THE AFTERGLOW 167 type; said that he was going to establish a common- wealth where this type would feel at home: "Except ye become as little children, ye cannot enter the kingdom." The workers in his day were being exploited by cold calculating men of affairs. They were as sheep not hav- ing a shepherd. That is why he made himself their shepherd. In getting between them and the wolves, he was gnashed upon by their ravening teeth, was torn to pieces. When the Gothic communes were in vigorous life, commercialists were unknown; meaning by that term, a middleman between producer and consumer. The guildsmen were- their own merchants. The guilds had a salaried agent to act for them in disposing of their product. So there existed a closeness of tie between the maker of an article, and the user. Work was largely home industry, for a home market. This neighborliness of relation put personality into the product. Because the maker of it was known, he was determined to be favor- ably known; he turned out an article that he could per- sonally stand behind. A remnant of this personalized product was seen even as late as our grandfathers' day: the Ditson saw, the Buck chisel, Wade-and-Butcher razor, the Torrey strop. In the contrary direction, be- cause the user of the article was known to the maker, he wished to be on relations of honorabihty with that maker; gave him as a remuneration for his labor a price that was just. It was a mental atmosphere that made right dealing between man and man habitual. Then came the commerciahzer. With clever excuses he horned in between the maker and the user. Any elaboration of trade apparatus in the conveyance of an article from producer to consumer depersonahzes it, and therefore bestiaUzes it. This the commerciaUst did. He 168 THE FREE CITY established himself on an independent footing; buying the article outright from the maker. Necessarily his gain depended on paying the maker a small price, and charging the user a large price. In modern parlance, he paid the worker "a Uving wage"; and to the consumer "charged what the traffic will bear." A depersonaUzed product is always an inartistic prod- uct. Plato saw the evil t'hat is inherent in a commercial ordering of society. In his ideal state he laid it down that conmierce was to be reduced to a minimum. In the Bible we saw that Solomon, he of the commercial instinct, was the disrupter of the state. That visit the Queen of Sheba paid him was at bottom a merchandizing affair. Each made "gifts" to the other; seeing to it that one got in return as much as one "gave." Solomon, seeking to degrade the Israelites into peddlers of ivory, apes, and peacocks, is not reckoned in the gallery of spiritual heroes. Jesus never refers to Solomon except with an innuendo of contempt. The prophets would not permit an alliance with the "merchants of Tyre." And in the Book of Revelation, the burning of Rome evoked a shout of exultation. Because the Roman Empire was a commercial form of society: "The merchants of the earth are waxed rich through the abundance of her delicacies." The commercializing of the Gothic Communes began with the wholesalers. These would buy up a shipload of provisions, or the entire supply of a caravan. Banding together, they became stronger than the commune; for these speculators were alert, whilst the people fell asleep. To these mercantile adventurers now swollen with power, the regulations that were issued by town council and guild were as cobwebs in the path of a bumble bee. Roman law, in the form it took in the Empire days, sided with these magnates in their seK-assertion. In early Rome, THE AFTERGLOW 169 law had made much of public property, had discouraged private property. In the Hebrew commonwealth the taking of interest was forbidden by statutory enactment. But with the coming of the Empire, Roman law had more and more come to teach the theory of absolutely private possessions. In Justinian's code it is expressly pointed out: "In purchase and sale it is naturally al- lowed to try to overreach each other." "Overreaching" was now organized into a system, to overthrow the Gothic municipalities. The conmiunes did not surrender without a fight. The struggle between the old communahstic form of industry, and the new nationalist-commercial spirit, lasted for over a century. The story of it, in The Netherlands for ex- ample, has added brilliant chapters to the story of human heroism.' The contest was political. The nobles, when the communes were first arising, would allow none of their members to fraternize with the upstart burghers. But when some of these burghers began to accumulate riches, the knightly order decreed that "for the support of an ancient and honorable line," a noble could marry a burgher's daughter, provided she brought him a dowry of at least four thousand florins. From that began a rapprochement between the nobiUty and the commercial magnates. By the middle of the thirteenth century the rich can be seen lining up in class cleavage against the "poor folk, and others of mean estate." Constantly this demarca- tion between the "great men" — the majores, the DiviTATEs — and the "lesser folk" — the minores/ pau- PERES, PLEBEi — became more sharp. Charles V took sides with the magnate class against the commons. He encouraged Antwerp, the stronghold of materiaUsm, to usurp the place of leadership formerly held by beautiful 170 THE FREE CITY Bruges. Antwerp became thereupon the master city of the world. From there as a center, a trading class of nomads wandered feverishly up and down the world, in search of the large fortunes that a few men were amas- sing. These were men without a home or ancestors or family traditions; unscrupulous buccaneers eager to acquire wealth. The Free Cities walled their gates against the new spirit; but the gates were battered down. Rather than be conquered by the King of Spain and these magnates, the Low Country opened the dykes and flooded the landscape. Notable is that page, in the chronicles of freedom. When Charles V destroyed the communal government of Ghent and turned it into a capitalistic center, he decreed that "Roland," the big bell in the town belfry, must be taken down. He was afraid of that communal tintinnabulation; its power to stir remembrances of associated action and civic Hberty. The collapse of Free Cities saw the decline in morals that characterized the Renaissance generally. Machia- velli now became the lawgiver in the realm of right and wrong. Dante was superseded in Florence by Boccaccio and his ladies of the Decameron. This was the age too of Cesare Borgia, Cellini, and Aretino. Compare these with those folk of the Gothic time. Giotto, master mason of Florence and one of the world's supreme archi- tects, was a devotee of the Franciscan order. This premier artist of the Middle Age represented Cupid as one of an infernal trinity, the other two being Satan and Death. The Renaissance artists pictured the love god as near akin to angels; a love deity, furthermore, whose favorite abode was with the opulent. Spenser's picture of Gluttony is a witness too of this new pleasure-mad era, supporting its riot of extravagance by pillaging the toilers: THE AFTERGLOW 171 His belly was upbhwne with luxury; And eke with fatness swollen were his eyne. And like a crane his neck was long and fine; Wherewith he swallowed up excessive feast; For want whereof, poor people oft did pine. Rome during her municipal era had reverenced the virtue of women. We saw Athens enthroning Pallas Athena as the virgin goddess of the state. In Israel the designation "strange women" indicates that the red light district in Jerusalem could find only foreign women for its victims. Paris to-day is the seat of a commercial civilization; and would not be pointed out as a place oversensitive in morals. But in the Paris of the Gothic period there was a certain wool-weaver whose relations with a woman were loose. He "was sent out of the city and forbidden the trade, until he should amend his character." An artistic civiHzation is a healthy-hearted society. A commercial era, on the other hand, is a time of ethical decay. I do not mean to paint the picture all high light and black shade. Those Mediterranean communes were not perfect, in morals or aught else; and the Gothic common- wealths likewise had many a flaw. But in the large, history reveals a finer sex morality in municipal states than in the huge aggregates known as nations and em- pires. Self-government works in the people a cleanness of spirit; they have scant leisure for baseness. Free and creative toil breeds a people that turn every thought into self-expression. It is when those higher vents are clogged, man pursues in forbidden pathways the gratification that normal life had denied him. In the first church in Venice, this was lettered: "Around this temple, let the mer- chant's law be just, his weights true, and his contracts guileless." In the Renaissance, this Venice commune 172 THE FREE CITY changed into a narrow oligarchy, whose only thought was commercial empire; and the orgies of the people in Venice became notorious. When joy withers away, man seeks to fill its place with pleasure. At the close of the day, the sunset. At the close of the sunset, the afterglow. Since the Gothic era, have followed six centuries of slow decline. Here and there have been outbursts of power. But these have been spasmodic, and in large part imitative. An afterglow is ofttimes so ht up that people walk in it with scarce a reahzation that the Ught is a reflection and not the shin- ing of the sun. Moderns are hving contentedly in this reflected light, heedless of the fact that the sun has set and that the Ught must by Uttle and Uttle fade. Shake- speare and the spacious times of EUzabeth, were the splendid outburst prepared by the Gothic day in England. The age of Cervantes in Spain was the afterglow of her Gothic period; bringing her to that day of climax, when Spain extended from Naples and Milan to The Nether- lands, and to the New World. The energy of the Middle Age gathered to a meridian splendor about the year 1300. Since that time, in the matter of original creative power, Christendom has traced slowly a descending curve; the dying out of genius, and its replacement by talent. We moderns have been kept going by a survival also from another age than the Gothic — the Bible. That Book, we saw, is the story of perhaps the most intense city-worship in all history. So long as it retained the mysticism with which it was originally endowed, great was the power of the Scriptures to evoke in man a public spirit; a zest of freedom: Home rule, as Heaven's first commandment. Luther was a lover of the Bible. The movement he originated was at bottom a revival of local feeling. It was "Peter's Pence" that started him THE AFTERGLOW 173 on his break with the Papal Empire; the taking of Ger- man coin to build St. Peter's church in far-away Rome. Calvin was spurred by that Book to transform Geneva into a theocratic republic. John Leyden sought to make Miinster over into a "Kingdom of Zion"; the entire Anabaptist movement tended toward local autonomy, under the rule of Heaven alone; as at Utrecht and Am- sterdam. Knox was ardent to make Scotland a theocracy, Uke Israel of old. The Pilgrims, hugging that Book to their bosoms, founded in New England a theocratic commonwealth; from which came the town meeting, foimtain of no small part of America's political life. The revolvings of the calendar are wheeUng us far and further from Palestine in her municipal prime. But the Bible, into which she poured her spirit, is charged with so high a voltage that even yet we get from it intermittent gleams of revival, dim-flashing hke boreal lights above our darkening era. Could that Book have retained its power permanently, unmolested by Higher Criticism's rationalizing touch, modernity might have struggled along for some centuries yet, living on borrowed Ught. CHAPTER Xin WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING THERE are five manners of political fabric. The first is that wherein the individual is the seat of government; this is the savage state — anarch- ism, egotocracy. The second is when the family is the seat of the government; oligarchy is its name; with feudahsm as the type of society it generates. The third is when the community is the seat of government; this form is known as democracy. The fourth manner of fabric is that wherein the nation is the seat of the gov- ernment; known as plutocracy — rule by the rich, of the rich, and for the rich. The fifth, is when the world is the seat of the government; known as autocracy, a world-chieftain swaying all mankind. In one of those five units the sovereignty must repose. Social Science does not think in terms of these five units. That is because it does not think at all. Social Science is an emotionalism; a sentimental expansion, quite splendid for supplying heat, but of utter incapacity for supplying fight. When Social Science begins to think, it becomes PoUtical Science. PoHtical Science knows that there must be sovereignty somewhere; and that the choice of a seat for that sovereignty lies between the five units I have mentioned. Sovereignty is constituted of a threefold prerogative: war-power, coinage, and diplomacy. That seems a short 174 WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 175 and mild enumeration, wherewith to describe so omnipo- tent a thing as governmental omnipotence. But that threefold majesty is comprehensive. In the realm of physics, scientists tell us that there are but three colors, red, blue, and yellow; all of the other tints in the spectrum being combinations of those primary hues. So, in the realm of jurisprudence, the threefold prerogative here enumerated confers mundane almightinesfe. A status in coining money regulates the relations between debtor and creditor, determines all exchanges, all material values; gives control over the life economic. A status in de- termining foreign relations, decides what shall be the at- titude of this autonomous political group toward the rest of the world. That third item, a poHtical status in de- claring peace or war, is essential for preserving the other two prerogatives; a community that must fight at the dictation of a power outside of itself, turning over to that outside power control over its armed forces, is not free but subject. Coinage, diplomacy, war-power — these are the primary attributes of statehood. And the cord that is twisted of them is sovereignty. Where shall this sovereignty vest? The question is the most stupendous to which the mind of man can address itself. Until that is settled, nothing is settled. And when that is once settled, everything else in earth and sea and sky will settle itself. Shall the human being give his loyalty to himself, in preference to those other four claimants? But then, what would happen to his family, his community, his nation, his world? All the problems in ethics, all the perplexities that assail the mind and tear the heart, are occasioned by these five conflicting loyalties. With that question hanging in the air, the man is interiorly dismembered, is pulled apart by the competing claims; so that all of his spiritual bones are 176 THE FREE CITY out of joint; he is double-minded, unstable in his ways; is a wave of the sea driven by the wind and tossed. Shall the nation have the sole right to declare war, or shall each individual decide that for himself? Which is su- preme, a man's loyalty to his family, or to his com- munity? Business men are answering it, "to his family." Which answer accounts for much of the ruthlessness in commercial life. The man grinds the sons and daughters of other families, in order that his own son and daughter may ride in high-powered chariots. Many a man is a good husband and a bad citizen. No small part of the revolutionary heave now convulsing society is engendered by the spectacle of one home embowered in sumptuous- ness, amidst other homes that are dismal huts. New York City, for example — an island of woe divided by an avenue of wealth. In the collision between the community and the nation, there are many who think a compromise to be possible: "Let the nation run the national industries, and let the community run the community industries"; by "na- tional industries," meaning interstate affairs, such as trunk railroads. But that word "interstate" is exactly the word the advocate of local sovereignty hkes; the word "inter-state" is a contradiction of terms in the mouth of a nationalist, who believes that the nation is the state, that is, the seat of the government. The rail- road between New York and Montreal is not one but two; and trains cross the frontier by treaty arrangement. Shall this be the case also with railroads between New York and Chicago? The municipalist answers. Yes. Free Cities have universally insisted on rulership over the highroads within their respective territories. In practice the Free City consents to treaties whereby her roads are linked up to those in adjoining states. But it never re- WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 177 linquishes sovereign rule over the highways within her frontiers. And so, with every other item in what is loosely termed "national industries." Every item in life can be interpreted nationally, and also municipally. Street railways would seem to be distinctively a local affair; but one can travel from New York to Boston by trolley car. The principles of federahsm and of national- ism are in square collision. And so, throughout all the area of man's life. We shall never enjoy an organized existence until one of these five claimants, and the right one, is enthroned above the other four. Five courts of concurrent juris- diction, each claiming the last appeal, form a hydra in government; produce confusion worse confounded. These contending loyalties wrench a high-souled man apart; leave him a dislocated spirit; clog the motions of his will so that he goes with faltering step. One of the five has got to be supreme, and the other four dutifully subordinate. It will be noticed that, of the five, the community oc- cupies the central place. To the left of it are to be found the family and the individual; to the right, the nation and the world — a teeter-board, balancing at the middle. That is the psychological mid-point; let a man climb from the ego-status up into community-consciousness, and he is spiritually half-way towards world-consciousness. To that center, points the omnipotent finger of God. Be- cause it is the natural center. The municipal republic — a conamunity of people occupying their plot of earth in sovereignty — is the pohtical establishment that people fall into when left to themselves. It is the normal econ- omy. Rome and Athens and Israel, the industrial com- munes of India, were not contrived by men expert in political science. It was the easiest way of organizing 178 THE FREE CITY the life of man. Later on came an Aristotle, who took up the matter into thought and explained it to itself. But the commune of Athens had endured long prior to Aristotle and his justification of that form of society. Nations, on the other hand, are a conscious fabrication, deliberately devised by a junta of men who had some- thing privately to gain thereby. The only reason for the wiping out of small frontiers and the formation of huge nationalist fabrics, is commercial profit. Munic- ipalities, on the other hand, form themselves when life is Hved according to the natural fitness of things. An Indian poetess, quoted by Maine, likens the settlement of India to the "flowing of the juice of the sugar cane over a flat surface; the juice crystallizes, and the crystals are the various village communities. In the middle is one lump of particularly fine sugar; the place where is the temple of the god." That left arm of the teeter-board, made up of the family and the individual, is known in Pohtical Science as the party of the Left; it is the radical wing, clamors for human rights, defends the popular cause, is restive and fiery and innovative. The opposite arm, made up of the nation (the continental grouping) and the world, is known as the party of the Right; this is conservative in its leanings, is constituted of the monied set, cares more for property rights than for personal rights. The extreme Left is anarchism. The extreme Right is imperialism. Anarchism is personal rights gone rabid. Imperialism is property rights gone rabid. The former thinks only in terms of people. The latter thinks only in terms of things. Anarchism is the extreme of individuality; by making every ego different from every other ego, it would give us a picturesque people, but miserably poor. Im- perialism is the extreme of collectivity; would give us a WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 179 people who are all alike, and enormously rich, folk with large bank balances but of a bovine countenance. Let an anarchist carry his philosophy into hteral prac- tice: renounce all collectivity, resolve that he will eat nothing but what his own pair of hands have produced. His meal would consist of roots that he could dig from the forest; of fish also, provided he himself caught and cleaned and cooked them, and mined the iron that formed the hook, and grew the cotton that constituted the fish line. Per contra, let imperialists carry their philosophy perfectly into practice, we would have a world reduced to asphalt uniformity. All the human race would dress alike, think ahke, talk alike, look alike; one colossal machine nm by an engineer at the top. Enormous would be the bulk of material product. But there would be no fun. Anarchism gives us a large appetite, and no dinner. Imperialism gives us a large dinner, and no appetite. The propertied class always make for uniformity. The more nearly the workingclass can be brought into a machine-like regularity, the greater is -their wealth-pro- ducing power. A plutocratic age is hostile to the prin- ciple of variation. As money gets the upper hand, fashion predominates; a subtle zeit gcist walks to and fro, ridiculing whatever is out of fashion. And for a reason. Anyone who departs from the orthodox style and mode, betrays a rebel spirit. He must be put down, or he will put plutocracy down. That is why rich people bore each other; they are of one sameness — peas in a pod. In their social clubs, when a millionaire meets another millionaire he mentally yawns. He knows there is no more possibility of hearing a new idea from that club-mate, than of finding orchids under a snowbank. Anarchism screams the song of liberty-that-is-license. Imperialism intones the ritual of orderliness-that-is- 180 THE FREE CITY stagnation. If either got control, life would be unlivable. Between these two extremes, municipality m the via me- dia. When the community is sovereign — that group mid- way between the family and the nation — the teeter-board hangs level. All the interests of life then are cared for. Under municipality's impartial shepherding, both the party of the Left and the party of the Right are cherished. Jesus, we saw, identified himself with this centralmost unit. Against the anarchists of that day, who exalted the ego to be supreme, he taught that a man must lose himself in something larger, and in doing so, would find his truer self. Against those who wished to make the family the supreme loyalty, he proclaimed a higher al- legiance than to "father or mother or son or daughter or mother-in-law or daughter-in-law." Passing over to the Right arm of the teeter-board, he rebuked the Herods and the Csesarisms that were shifting the center of Ufe away from the municipal group — Palestine — over into the huge imperial state where materiaUty and money- riches predominated. In declaring that in the true Israelite all the thoughts of the heart must be concentric with the Jerusalem munic- ipaUty, even to the sacrifice it might be of one's own blood family, Jesus was not harsh or fanatical. It was Great- heart uttering a statesmanly pronouncement. When the community is life's center, both the Left and the Right are secure. In order to build a noble family, there must first be a noble community. The father who is a good parent but a slothful citizen, is bequeathing a bitter heritage to his children. Christ's dogma that the ego also must yield its private treasures up into municipal treasure, was hard-headed practicality. People can pro- duce more by working co-operatively than by working WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 181 privately; in return for that surrender of self unto the communal Self, Jesus promised them great return: "good measure, heaped up, shaken together, running over." To the extremists on the Right, he announced that life does not live by bread only. The criterion of a meal is not the menu alone, but the gusto wherewith it is eaten. Luscious, a dinner of herbs, when seasoned with good fellowship. Jesus perceived that a materialist set of people are dull; he wished that they might have life, and might have it more abundantly. A great people moder- ately rich — that was the Jesus' program. MunicipaHty is the core of converging forces. That is why the municipal eras in history have been the artistic eras. The classic school in art thinks only of rules, pre- cedent, "the tradition of the elders"; a rehashing of yesterday's achievements. The romanticist school, on the other hand, is a mania of innovation, a rebellion against all established forms, a following of inspiration utterly; futuristic fantasias that scorn the wisdom of the past. MunicipaHty is the road between. It is the spirit of the eternal To-day, whose roots trace back into old Yesterday, and whose seed reaches to young To-morrow. In citizen commonwealths, the fathers are reverenced and the children are tenderly nurtured. In art, that spirit makes for originahty. Stagnancy keeps to the beaten path, and stops when the path stops. Phantasy o'er- leaps the wall alongside the beaten path, losing itself in side alleys where is no thoroughfare. Originality keeps to the beaten path, and pushes it a parasang further. MimicipaHty is the world's sanity. Any divergence of sovereignty away from that midpoint in the teeter-board, is a departure into eccentricity: "off-center." Sanity means balance. Neither the party of the Left nor the party of the Right has all the wisdom; but municipality. 182 THE FREE CITY positioned between and comprehending them both. It is the temperate zone, mid-distant from the excessive heat of the tropics, and the polar ice. As against the extreme of individualism, it stands for collectivity; but not for a collectivity so large as to obliterate the individ- ual. Against the imperialist extreme, it stands for in- dividuahty; but not for individuahty smaller than conmnmities, which would destroy all collectivity. Collectivism, provided the collectivity be not too large, produces great people. The outstanding spirits in history will be found to have appeared in or near the epochs of Free Cities. The individual can stretch his skin to the area of a small state, and does. But the human epi- dermis is not elastic enough to extend across a fabric three thousand miles from east to west; and the individual does not make the attempt. Big states breed small in- dividuals. Small states breed great individuals. Life in city republics is colorful. Color is materiality, with light shining upon it. In a Free City, because of the constricted frontiers, the social fabric is compact. The intellectual and the manual classes are close together; no gulf there, between the university set and the crowd; gulf that is so distressing a feature of huge national states. The tourist in Europe notices that the towns built in the Gothic period show a palace or castle cheek by jowl with the cottages of the lowly. The prince or rich man lived in the same street with the hand workers; often in a house alongside their houses. The narrowness of the boundaries brought highbrow and lowbrow into daily contact. This neighborliness between the thinkers and the workers acted like, and really was, a shining of light upon a material object; and color was the consequence. In city commonwealths a leisure class is never an idle WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 183 class. They don't dare to be. An idle class must live at so far a remove from the workingclass that the clenched fist of the latter cannot reach them, or must have a huge national guard ready to be hurled against an uprising of the industrial mass in any locahty. In municipal re- publics the leisurists lack both of these safeguards. They live in the same neighborhood with the workers, and the sovereignty of the frontier hedges outside troops from en- tering to stand between the exploiter and his outraged victims. In Free Cities, therefore, a leisure class is com- pelled to justify its existence. So these folk devote themselves and their wealth to public uses. Goethe was fostered by the duke in a small duchy on the Rhine; owed much of his productivity to the courtly encourage- ment. Wagner at the court of Mimich is a more recent example; without that princely co-operation, Bayreuth would never have been. In big states, the rich live in a city far-distant from the factory town where their dividends are produced. There- fore the leisure class to-day degenerates into an idle class. And the workers in turn, deprived of that quickening contact with the more cultured leisurists, slump down into sodden dullards. Art is that which is richly formed and roughly finished; every chair and dish and kettle touched into shapehness. To-day our makers of beauty cater to an idle class; to embellish an existence already over- embeUished. "Fine Art" is the result; a sickishly ornate, overpolished piece of work; as though one should sit down to a dinner of marshmellows, bonbons, and cake. The while all the useful things are untouched by refined handiwork. The Greeks had no use for "artists," by which term they meant those who produce mere sumptu- ousness divorced from utihty. Plato in his ideal com- monwealth would not admit this type. The Athenians 184 THE FREE CITY were artistic, because they insisted that beauty and utility be conjoined. They desired craftsmen rather than "artists"; hard-handed workmen dreaming dreams. With them the workshop masses merged with college professors and the courtly set. So they presented a life rich with color. Municipality, by bringing the head and the hand together, produces a highly pictorial form of state; a society wherein every dream tends towards ma- terial expression; yeast and the lump interfusing. In municipal repubUcs people do not read romance; they Uve it. Survey the city commonwealths of North Italy, where Shakespeare and Browning drew so much of their dramatic materials: Venice, Florence, Pisa, Milan, Verona, Padua. Those citizens were attuned habitually to a higher level of vivacity and noble prompt- ings, than folk in our dull age. Life was not puritanic, in the sense of outward repressions that screw down clamps upon life. The zest of participation in the civic adventure after Uberty, indisposed them to animal promptings. Political freedom, in whose dihgence they were unceasing, kept them at the top of their condition. Their city was an independent and sovereign being among the sovereignties of the earth. The communion of that responsibihty wrought its effect on the component mem- bers. It fashioned them unto good incUnations; made the brain aUve; exercised them to a noble stature of in- tellect, and a rugged moral conformation. They had small need of paper novels. Only when life itself is dismal, do people crave fiction. Civic shabbiness drives a man to the land of make-believe, where his soul may find artificial sustentation. Citizenship in a munic- ipal republic made the fife of men a daily riding forth upon adventure. It kindled a lustre in the eye, begat spiritual hveliness, verve, a will to freedom. They be- WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 185 held their city unfolding into piquancy and splendor. In such an atmosphere, how could they have an ear for stories spun by make-believers? Here was a dream woven out of the stuff of each common day. One cannot read the history of city commonwealths without a feeling that the winds which blew over them were aromatic with a pungency from the spice fields of paradise. Civic in- dependence is a dangerous endeavor. The fruitful agi- tation made the nerves of their mind sprightly; stirred them to an unconventionahty of thought and deed, in comparison with which the written novel is tame. City states have produced few parchment romances. But they performed deeds that whip the sluggish blood- stream of the reader, and which have graced the chroni- cles of mankind. Municipahty not alone makes for color, tang, high flavor, a life possessing fillip and edge. Also it makes for power. Community states are strong states. When the municipality is king, it governs, and with a vigor un- known to other forms of the social union. Nationalism is fat, rich, easy-going anarchy. Government is hke gravitation: its force diminishes with the square of the distance over which it has to travel. Nations are a loosely articulated agglomerate of individualisms; and the larger the nation, the more relaxed is the tie. Only on the occasions of war, does a national fabric gather strength. In such a moment, a flash of color bursts out, the red glare of a million men regimented for battle. Nationalism is monotony relieved by conflagrations. These conflagrations that open like red blossoms in the night, are exhaustive to the soil they feed upon. After one blooming — whose name is war — the plant has to await a long refertiHzation before it can bloom again. These intervals during which is being built the com- 186 THE FREE CITY missariat of a new war, are periods largely of govern- mental abdication. America illustrates it. Here is the largest of national aggregates. And we Americans are the most individual- istic of peoples. This Manchester school of thought known as Laissez faire — "Let the people alone" — was founded by Adam Smith in 1776. It was adopted by the United States Constitution in 1787. America, in thus giving to all of her people a "fair field and no favor," professes therein to be their friend. Jesus, that Keeper of the sheep, would say that a "Let them alone" govern- ment is abdication by the shepherd of his duty towards the flock. Actually Laissez faire means, "Let 'em fight." But the wolves are better fighters than the sheep. Therefore the wolves prefer nationaMsm to municipalism; the more removed the shepherd is from his flock, the better they like it. When the shepherd has but a small flock, the wolves keep away. When the shepherd has a flock so large that he no longer can see them all, the wolf has a fat dinner daily. It is not a betrayal of secrets to say that in America, Big Business overrides the people at its pleasure. Nor is there any power to prevent that overriding. Congress? Congress is a device for per- mitting the goose to squawk, whilst the feathers are being plucked. A big state means the crumbling of society into a free-for-all; the survival of the brutallest; egoisms rushing an ever more headlong and turbulent pace. It is the competitive idea; unruliness and scoundreUsms that are hke to transform us into swine. The reason why that civil war broke out in Bisbee, Arizona, between the mine owners and the operatives, was because each side felt that Washington was powerless to protect it. So the workers took their protection into their own hands; which meant sabotage and violence. The mine owners WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 187 likewise took the law into their own hands, deporting hundreds of men from their homes and families, to starve in the desert. A far-off ruler is a weak ruler; a grandpa thing, blustering good-naturedly. As the arm of govern- ment lengthens, the energy of government weakens. In contrast with that picture of pseudo-government, municipaUty means the onmipotence of the state. And not by outward force, so much as by inward magnetism. Socrates, in that closing hour of his life, furnishes an ex- ample of what I mean. The attachment of the Athenians to the hymns and ceremonies inherited from the fathers was so affectionate that they could not bear this skeptic, Socrates, who came poking his nose into mysteries so chockfull of memories of the departed. And yet the intellect also has its rights. Of which, Socrates was the votary. He inaugurated the spirit of research and in- quiry, no matter how sacred be the field of investigation. So he incurred the displeasure of the reverential school; was tried on a charge of impiety; was convicted; and sentenced to death. Crito came to him in prison, and offered to use his wealth to corrupt the jailer and effect his escape. Socrates refused the offer. Let us overhear him: "Consider the matter in this way. Imagine that I am about to play truant, and the laws and the govern- ment interrogate me : * Socrates, are you going to overturn us, the laws and the whole state, as far as in you Ues? Do you imagine that a state can subsist, in which the de- cisions of law have no power but are set aside and over- thrown by individuals?' Yes, but the state has given an unjust sentence. 'And was that our agreement with you,' the law would say; 'or were you to abide by the sentence of the state? Did we not bring you into exist- ence? Your father married your mother by our aid, 188 THE FREE CITY and begat you. Were not the laws right in commanding your father to train you? Well then, since you were brought into the world and nurtured and educated by us, can you deny that you are our child, as your fathers were before you? And if this is true, you are not on equal terms with us; nor can you think that you have a right to do to us what we are doing to you. Would you have any right to strike or revile or do any other evil to a father or to a master if you had one, when you have been struck or reviled by him, or received some other evil at his hands? And because we think right to destroy you, do you think that you have a right to destroy us in re- turn? Has a philosopher Hke you failed to discover that our country is more to be valued and higher and hoHer far than mother or father or any ancestor? When we are punished by her, whether with imprisonment or stripes, the punishment is to be endured in silence; and if she leads us to wounds or death in battle, thither we follow as is right; neither may anyone yield or retreat or leave his ranks; but whether in battle or in a court of law or in any other place, he must do what his city and his country order him. After having brought you into the world and nurtured and educated you and given you and every other citizen a share in every good that we had to give, we further proclaim and give the right to every Athenian that if he does not like us when he has come of age and has seen the ways of the city and made our acquaintance, he may go where he pleases and take his goods with him, and none of our laws will forbid him or interfere with him. Any of you who does not like us and the city, and who wants to go to a colony or to any other city may go. But he who has experience of the manner in which we order justice and administer the state, and still remains, has entered into an implied con- WHEN COMMONWEALTH IS KING 189 tract that he will do as we command him. Of all Athe- nians you have been the most constant resident in the city; which, as you never leave, you may be supposed to love. You never went out of the city, either to see the games (except once, when you went to the Isthmus) or to any other place, unless you were on military service; nor did you travel as other men do. Your affections did not go beyond us. We were your special favorites. You acquiesced in our government of you. And now you have forgotten these fine sentiments and pay no respect to us, the laws, of which you are the destroyer; and are doing what only a miserable slave would do, running away and turning your back upon the agreements which you made as a citizen.' " In all great art, the master note is serenity; a sense that the life has found its center of rotation; so that the man works with all energy of belief, tranquU and victori- ous. The community is that center. Let the teeter- board fulcrum at that point, the two arms then are on an equality; and on both of them mighty masses can be carried. Municipality is equipoise; a Janus head that faces at once the ego and the world. Because our modern world has departed from that center, we behold pell- mell confusion; five contending courts of appeal brawl- ing one against the other; a riot of judgments and decisions. A great wheel must have an immovable axis; a center that shifts is no center. Only singlemindedness is tranquillity. Doubt is mental disunion; a split in the family of the mind. It is the cry of the outcast members of that family, wandering lost on the mountain side; and the anguish of those in the home, because of the vacant places around the hearthstone. As doubt is a quarrel- some condition of the mind, Faith is mental integrity. 190 THE FREE CITY The compression of all the facts of life within the com- pass of a city state engenders not only a unification of the people but also a unification of the mind. It pro- duces Belief — that serenity which comes when the par- liament of the mind votes imanimously. When municipality is king, God is king. Able strate- gist, he plays the middle against both ends. Centrality is divinity. A Free City is Lord God's masterpiece; a society rich-colored, kingly, and affectionate. To the conmiunity belongs the sovereignty; all of the other in- stitutes of life must be marginaUa. Nationahsm is lop- sidedness, and because of it the foundations of the world are out of course. It has caused the dollar to be imduly preponderant, with spirituahty lapsing in slow decay. City worship arises to redress the balance. From that sorrow of history, a churchly church and a worldly world, municipahty comes to dehver us. CHAPTER XIV NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING OUR planet for the first time is full up with people. That is the new fact in the world's history. Until a few years ago, there were vacant territories caUing for settlers. Accordingly there was not a social problem such as we are facing. A discontented section of the population, due to maladjustment of the social organism, could go off into the virgin territory. Govern- ments lightened the load of discontent by systematic emigration. That avenue of reUef is no longer open. There are still some vacant areas on the map. But these lie for the most part out of the temperate zone; migrants thither must venture into unaccustomed climates, so that only a few — comparatively — attempt it. The bulk of the malcontented are now staying home. And will have to be dealt with. Society hitherto was able to lead an irregular life, without grave consequences. Let the body pohtic be overtaken with indigestion, due to an imassimilated mass of the population, it could belch forth the troublesome stuff in the form of a colony. After which easy relief, it could resume its irregulated manner of life. But that vent is no longer available. That is at bottom the meaning of the World War. In the decades immediately preceding our own, there had been a frenzied search by the nations for new lands to 191 192 THE FREE CITY be colonized; and for world markets, to keep their dis- contented ones busy in shops and factories, and so to pianissimo the gnmiblings. Competition for these out- lets intensified. The growlings of the Have-nots in the homeland goaded the ruKng classes to more frantic search for dumping grounds outside. The governments com- peted one against the other. Finally the tension, strain- ing from more to more, reached the breaking point. In these doings, America imconsciously was a cardinal factor. For over a hundred years these United States had been the chief channel for Europe's populational re- Uef. Here were tracts awaiting settlers. Here also was a huge market for European factory products. Here thirdly was a field for the investment of their surplus capital. This condition of affairs continued until about 1888. By that date, America's absorption power was coming to an end. Instead of taking in the overplus from other nations, we were showing signs of an overplus of our own. With this outlet closed to them, or closing, the nations of Europe turned upon each other in rivalry for the vacant lands and markets to be found elsewhere. Until August 4, 1914. We humans have got to learn the art of Hving together. Class hatreds can no longer be mehorated by putting spatial distance between them. We must institute a poUtical estabUshment based on fellowship. National- ity is consohdated wealth. Municipality is common- wealth. The principle of community announces that on a crowded planet the only way we can get elbow room is by locking arms. An impression prevails that America tried the poHty of small republics, and found it wanting. The Articles of Confederation, under which the Thirteen States Uved for four years following the American Revolution, brought NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 193 things to a deplorable pass — say these voices — and a national regime had to be established. Under the Con- federation, the central Congress was falling more and more into disrepute. It could not enforce the requisitions it made on the States. So indifferent were the delegates in their attendance on this decrepit body, it often had to wait for a quorum. There was no central power to pro- vide for the general defence and secure the general wel- fare. A situation verging on anarchy; until Alexander Hamilton and his confreres came to the rescue, cast the Articles of Confederation on the scrap heap, and gave to mankind the American Nation. Since which providential date, the Kingdom of God has been slowly but surely building itself here on this western soil; until now the highlands of Heaven are beginning to be visible above the horizon. There is emerging, however, an obstinate school of questioners, highly skeptical of the godUkeness of Alex- ander Hamilton and his coterie. If this nowaday America of sabotage, race riots, strikes, bomb-throwings, law- lessness, lobbyists and boodlers, defiant corruptionists, ap- palUng break-up of famiUes, cynical poHticians, a society cleaving in twain between the immoderately rich and the immoderately poor, universal mediocrity, a dull gray dinginess relieved only by gigantic preparations for slaughter, a dearth of art, neurasthenics, a dying church, stationary education, the commerciaUzed theatre, and a general advance of the cohorts of mammon — if this be the Kingdom of God upon earth, or the outposts and' commencement of the same, one can only say that Heaven is different from what the imagination figured it was going to be. Furthermore, in making Hamilton and his partners into demigods who could do no wrong, and who gave us a 194 THE FREE CITY Constitution which it is impious to scrutinize, our school histories are going beyond even the men who wrote that instrument. Those men had doubts as to the omnis- cience of the course they were pursuing and the ever- lastingness of the document they were writing. They ostentatiously omitted that formula "The union shall be perpetual," found in the Articles of Confederation. And instead, they inserted in the Constitution machinery to make a new constitution, whenever the present one should have become intolerable. That proviso for calling a constituent assembly has remained a dead letter, because during these one hundred and thirty years America never before was in a convulsion of the state. To suggest that the time is ripening to put that never-used machinery to work, is not to be sacrilegious towards those Consti- tution-framers; but is doing quite what they thought would probably be done at some time or other, and what they themselves would have no hesitation in doing if they were living now and felt that the fabric was funda- mentally out of joint. Pronounced Chief Justice Mar- shall: "The people made the Constitution, and the people can unmake it." Under that Constitution has arisen the richest, most colossal plutocracy since time began. The magnates of Roman Empire days were poor in the comparison. Which growth of a greatly monied class has taken place, not in spite of the Constitution but because of it. I am not saying that the writers of that instrument foresaw the Midas development in the magnitude that now has come to pass. Washington was the wealthiest man of that time. His fortune was about half a miUion dollars. Among his contemporaries he was their conception of superlative wealth. Had they been told that under the materialistic civihzation they were inaugurating, men NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 195 would arise with incomes of a million dollars a week, their imaginations would have been staggered. They would have paused before letting loose so torrential a tide of greed, and so prodigious a private power. With this caution, the fact remains that oiu* Consti- tution was built by the rich and for the rich. In the Convention that framed it, were 55 men. And not one of them was from the ranks of the laboring class. They were wealthy lawyers, plantation owners, wealthy mer- chants, wealthy land speculators. And practically every one of them was personally the gainer by the new form of society they inaugurated. Said Fisher Ames, a member of the ratifying convention in Massachusetts, "I conceive, sir, that the present Constitution was dictated by com- mercial necessity more than any other cause." A nation of shop-keepers, as Matthew Arnold termed the Ameri- cans, has not come to pass by accident, but by a Con- stitution designed to that end. Charles Lamb said that the Atlantic seaboard presented itself to his imagination as a long counter spread with wares. If Americans are content to read the meaning of the universe in terms of material comfort, obesity, and a bank balance, then our Constitution is the godliest thing. The same men who framed the Constitution took the reins of government. From that omnipotent vantage point they have swayed our schools and colleges and pul- pits; seeing to it that children and grown-ups from that day to this should be taught "the chaos of the govern- ment under the Articles of Confederation." However, the new school of historians, led by fearless men of the type of Charles Beard, are bringing many facts to light. Truth, though crushed to earth by one hundred and thirty years of concerted indoctrination, wiU rise again. I have not been able to find evidence of the failure of 196 THE FREE CITY those Articles of Confederation. Bankruptcy? But listen to this, from Governor Clinton's message to the New York legislature in 1786, one year before the Con- federation was given up to make way for nationalism: "It affords me the most sensible pleasure to observe that nothing hath happened since the close of last session to disturb the public tranquillity; that good order, obedi- ence to the laws, and the due observance of justice, have generally prevailed; that the different districts of the State by the industry of the citizens are rapidly recover- ing from the waste and desolation of the war; and that the toils of the husbandmen have been amply rewarded by a fruitful season and a plentiful harvest." If it be objected that this is too narrow a body of testimony, be- cause it narrates conditions in but one of the Thirteen States, read this letter written by Benjamin FrankUn to David Hartly of England the year previous: "Your newspapers are filled with accounts of distresses and miseries that these States are plunged into since their separation from Britain. You may believe me when I tell you that there is no truth in those accounts. I find all property in lands and houses vastly augmented in value; that of houses in towns at least fourfold. The crops have been plentiful; and yet the produce sells high, to the great profit of the farmer. At the same time all imported goods sell at low rates, some cheaper than the first cost. Working people have plenty of employ, and high pay for their labor." The "Stars and Stripes," flag that Betsy Ross designed and that is full of associations for the American heart, was a product of this Confederation era. It was con- ceived to emblem a federal state, not a national state. Under the Confederation, Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee were peopled. Colleges were estabUshed at Annapolis, NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 197 Abington, and Georgetown, Philadelphia, Lancaster, the University of Georgia, and in the city of New York. Population increased. Encouragement was given to science, agriculture, and the arts. Do these facts present a picture of "chaos"; of "a condition verging on anarchy? " The argument that the Continental Congress was falUng into a decrepit body so httle heeded by the States that ofttimes it could not get a quorum, is excellent and vahd if representative government be the divinely or- dained form of administering human affairs; but is ludicrous to those who hold that community self-govern- ment is Heaven's first commandment. The States were allowing that central Congress to die, because they had no more need of it. Each State was managing its own business. The Continental Congress had been needful when the States were at war with England; consoUdated action was a military requisite; and the States had given over many of their powers into its hands. With the cessation of hostihties, the exceptional situation under which the people had relinquished temporarily the right to govern themselves, ended. And the States proceeded to take back the power into their own hands. The public debt? There was no intent of repudiation. They were setting apart the proceeds from the sale of the western lands, to be security for that debt; a security that was ample, a thousand and a milUon times over. "But the people were unable to govern themselves," insist the historians, anxious to defend Hamilton; "there- fore the government had to be taken out of the hands of the populace and vested in a central body who would do the governing with expertness." If that be true, the Americans who won our hberties from George Third, and from whom we trace our blood, were inferior to the 198 THE FREE CITY Romans and the Athenians and the cathedral-building Gothics. By what composition of a superior clay were the folk of the Hanseatic League able to rule themselves through four hundred years of splendid existence; whereas cm- American fathers, after an endeavor lasting through four years, had to be put under tutors and guardians? If it be not true, then it is a hbel on our forefathers, and should be erased from the history books without delay. "No, you misunderstand us," quickly interject the history writers. "We don't mean that our grandsires were incompetent to govern their home affairs. We merely mean that they were showing themselves incom- petent of administering their inter-state relations. And nationalism had to be instituted, to do this for them." But this also, if true, were a most grievous inferiority. Those Hanseatics were capable of making and keeping diplomatic treaties. The Swiss cantons could do it. The United Provinces of the Netherlands did it. Also, the commonwealths of the Lombard and Tuscan Leagues; and the Confederation of Rhodes. By what decree of malevolent fate were our grandfathers of a shrunken mental stature over those men of other times and climes? It is a reUef to find that the school book histories, in seeking to belittle our forebears, have departed from the facts. Indeed, that last charge is particularly ludicrous. The suggestion that led to the Convention of 1787 and cm" Constitution, originated precisely in a meeting be- tween two of the States, to adjust by diplomatic pro- cedure a question of boundary. Both Maryland and Virginia had occasion to navigate the Potomac river. Therefore each appointed a commission to draft a treaty for the joint use of that stream. The diplomats as- sembled, in wise and amicable session. The transaction was an entire success. So much so, in fact, that those NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 199 commissioners suggested the calling of a convention to devise a board of high commissioners to include all of the States; sort of a permanent board of arbitration to consider inter-state difiiculties. Hamilton and his fellows, who had been hungering after a consolidated nationalistic form of union, seized upon this innocent sug- gestion and transformed it into the coup d'etat known as the Convention of 1787; and our present Constitution. ("Coup d'6tat" is not too strong a word to describe their deed. They recognized the startling nature of the thing they were doing; and threw over the transactions of that Convention an impervious veil of secrecy. Which veil was not lifted until something Uke forty years later; and even then, it was found that the minutes of the Con- vention had not been permitted to take a complete record of what was said on the floor of the assembly.) Nor was the diplomatic success achieved by Maryland and Vir- ginia unique. One year later, New York and Massa- cliusetts adjusted a boundary dispute in the same fashion. "But the Thirteen States were naked to their foes, and therefore had to surrender their freedom into the hands of a strong nationahst government." Naked to what foes? The most formidable military power in the world was Great Britain. And the Thirteen States, under a fed- erated form of union, had just fought her triumphantly. If the Confederation could write a Yorktown on its ban- ners once, could they not, flushed now by prestige and the habit of victory, have repeated the achievement? But Em-ope was making no further threats. England and France were at that precise moment lining up against each other for the wrestle between Pitt and Napoleon; a wrestle that was to engross all Europe for the next twenty-five years. 200 THE FREE CITY If none of the above-mentioned was truly the movmg cause for supplanting here in America the principle of municipality with the principle of nationality, what then was the motive? It has already been hinted. When the Revolution had wrought its work of political freedom, it was found that a ferment had been planted in the people towards social freedom. The Have-nots began to seek an equaUty with the Haves. They said that the War had been fought by all of the population. There- fore all ought to share in the new dispensation that was here being inaugurated. The human family in America should make a fresh start. This was an unexpected sequel to that Liberty Bell business of 1776. The own- ing class had meant a Declaration of Independence by and for the well-propertied. They made now the wryest kind of a face at this idea that the workers also should drink of the heady wine of freedom. The Articles of Confederation had constituted in America what were practically thirteen municipal re- pubUcs: "The said states thereby severally enter into a firm league and friendship with each other, for their common defence, the security of their hberties, and their mutual and general welfare; binding themselves to assist each other, against all force offered to or attacks made upon them or any of them." But it was expressly laid down: "Each state retains its sovereignty, freedom and independence." Being thus little repubhcs, the seat of government in each of them was close to the people. The ratio be- tween the government and the number of people partici- pating in it was not so large as to swallow up the individual in a sense of helplessness. It was a collectivity, but of moderate size; so that each man still felt himself to be an entity. These people proceeded to get hold of the gov- NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 201 eminent in their respective states, in order to remove the economic disadvantages under which they were laboring. They wished that the new order of things here in America should be set going, purged of the class cleavages that had disfigured the societies of Europe. The rich had financed the war. But the workingclass had given an equal devotion, in their blood poured out. Solon, at Athens, had recognized this necessity of economic soli- darity, if the body poUtic was to be permanent and glorious. Taking the helm of state when a class chasm was threatening, he had cancelled the existing debts, gave the social organism a new and fresh start. In the Bible there was statutory provision for doing this once every fifty years. Accordingly, could not these American States, now in this exceptional moment of a new era commencing, in a virgin continent, do something along the same line? Why not — so they argued — estabUsh a liberal and democratic communion, man with man in natural fellowship? Let caste and class be relegated to the old fabric of Europe, which they were happily casting off; declare a severance from that Old World, not only as to pohtical sovereignty, but also from that bad in- stitution of hers, the stratification of society into rich and poor. Here on new soil, start a new epoch for the human race. The common people, in something like seven out of the thirteen States, proceeded to capture control of their legislatures, and to carry out these aspirations. Their proposals, however, were nothing like so drastic as Solon's decree, or the Bible's Year of Jubilee. The popular program took largely the form of agrarian laws, such as the Gracchi, those tribunes for the people, had sought to estabUsh at Rome. The farmers and the wage-earning class here obtained for their cause a majority in the legis- 202 THE FREE CITY latures — sovereign legislatures, with no appeal to a far-away supreme court in Washington and whose repressions could be enforced by a national guard. They passed laws making money more plentiful. Thereby the debtor class would have been enabled to pay off their debts more quickly; and so get the new regime of human brotherhood in operation. It was nothing more than that, this move by the popular mass. Yet, in the school histories, it has called down upon itself such epithets as wildness, insurgency, rebel- lion, confiscatory anarchism. "Shays' RebeUion" is cited by them as proof that our forefathers, intoxicated by the new wine of liberty, were incapable of self-government. The documentary testimony of General Lincoln, who commanded the Massachusetts militia sent against Shay^, certainly is authentic. He says that Shays' "desperate debtors" had this for their motive: to "bring into the legislature creatures of their own, by which they would make a government at pleasure, and make it subservient to all their purposes." Has there ever been a more exact definition of democracy? and struck off, too, by its avowed enemy: "To make the legislature subservient to all their purposes." In Rhode Island and New Hampshire there were also fermentations among the workingclass; but to an even less degree than the mild Shays affair in Mas- sachusetts. All of these commotions were so innocent of any attempt at violence that, for blood letting and turbulence, they do not compare with a strike in a mod- ern industrial center. I cannot find that bloodshed any- where, to the extent of a single life, took place. And yet "Shays' Rebellion," with the popular commotions in the adjoining states, was the cause why self-government was taken from the American people, and invisible govern- ment in a far-distant capital was substituted in its place. NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 203 Read this letter, written by General Knox, one of the creditor class, to Washington: "The insurgents," designating the Shaysites, "feel their own poverty, compared with the opulent; and their own force. And they are determined to make use of the latter, in order to remedy the former. Their creed is, That the property of the United States has been protected from the confiscation of Britain by the joint exertions of all; and therefore ought to be the common property of all. And he that attempts opposition to this creed is an enemy to equity and justice, and ought to be swept from off the face of the earth. In a word they are determined to annihilate all debts, and have agrarian laws. To them may be collected people of similar sentiments from Rhode Island, Connecticut, and New Hampshire, so as to con- stitute a body of desperate and unprincipled men. They are chiefly of the young and active part of the community; more easily collected than perhaps kept together after- wards. But once embodied, they will be compelled to submit to discipUne. Having proceeded to this length, for which they are now ripe, we shall have a formidable rebeUion. This dreadful situation has alarmed every man of principle and property in New England. Our government must be braced, changed, or altered to secure our lives and property. The men of reflection and prin- ciple are determined to establish a government which shall have the power to protect them, and which will be efl&cient in all cases of internal commotions. They wish for a general government of unity, as they see the local legislatures must naturally and necessarily tend to frus- trate all general government." This was in 1786. In a letter the next year, Madison wrote: "The late turbulent scenes in Massachusetts and Rhode Island have done inexpressible injury to the repubUcan character 204 THE FREE CITY in that part of the United States. And a propensity towards Monarchy is said to have been produced by it in some leading minds." A few days after, John Arm- strong, in a letter to Washington, more than hinted it: " Shall I tell you ia confidence, I have now twice heard — nor from low authority — some principal men begin to talk of wishing one general Head to the Union, in the room of Congress." Hamilton, the special pleader of the rich, was not long in reverberating the news, and pointing the lesson to be drawn from it: "The tempestu- ous situation from which Massachusetts has scarcely emerged, evinces that dangers of this kind are not merely speculative." Accordingly, said he, there must be set up a strong central arm of government, " a guarantee by the national authority." Patrick Henry and Samuel Adams led the opposition to the new Constitution, pointing out the "elective des- potism" it was seeking to establish. Henry exclaimed against the monstrous idea: "One power to reign with a strong hand over so extensive a country as this!" (Amer- ica then consisted only of the Atlantic seaboard.) Taylor, one of the pamphleteers against the nationalist scheme, wanted to know how this new aristocracy of wealth would differ from the aristocracy of name which they had just fought England to get free from: "Which is more to be dreaded, titles without wealth, or wealth without titles? Exorbitant wealth constitutes the substance of aristoc- racy. Money is power. If we execrate the shadow, what epithet is too hard for an administration which is laboring to introduce the substance?" But the "Anglo-monarchic aristocratic faction" — as these nationahsts were termed — triumphed. In the ratifying fight on the Constitution, the opulent of Boston warned Samuel Adams: "Any vote of a delegate from NOW IN THE WORLD'S REMAKING 205 Boston against adopting it would be contrary to the in- terests, feelings and wishes of the tradesmen of the town." Similar tactics were adopted in other states. The new Constitution got itself enacted. "Could there have been a counting of heads the country through," says Woodiow Wilson in his history, "a majority would have been foimd opposed to the Constitution; but the men who were its active and efl&cient advocates lived at the centers of popu- lation, had the best concert of action, filled the mails and the pubUc prints with their writings, were very formidable in debate, and full of tactical resources." Thus was set up in America a governing class; profes- sional poUticians governing us from a central seat of power, in the obscurantism of vast impenetrable dis- tance. This governing class is authorized by consti- tutional provision to ride over the heads of the local authorities in every essential of sovereignty. By means of its own Supreme Court, located also in that far-away capital, it was made the sole judge of its powers and jurisdiction. And there was provided a standing army to enforce whatsoever this far-distant government de- creed. So was estabUshed the dogma of governmental invisibihty, as America's contribution to the Kingdom of God upon earth. By means of it, local traditions in America have been destroyed. Our civic firesides are cold. The graves of our sires awake no thrill, fuse om* hearts into no soli- darity. We feel naught of attachment to the soil. Bedou- ins and rovers are we. Roving in vestibuled trains, to be sure; but rovers, none the less. The American city? a horde of profit-seekers transiently assembhng themselves, and now on their way to become kilkenny cats. Large are we in material importance; slender, in artistic achieve- ment. Freebooters appear — as always, in dark ages. 206 THE FREE CITY The gospel of greed is openly indoctrinated. We have all eaten of the insane root. We hear the grindings of an im- perialist machine that will crush the individual into pulp. God would not take one star from the American flag; to the contrary He would add a thousand more — kindred communities, co-equal in sovereignty, a universal and democratic dominion with filaments of friendship over- spanning the globe. MunicipaUty is a stupendous pro- gram. But we are Hving in a stupendous moment. The evil days are drawing nigh; temporizing expedients are severely disallowed. Nationalism is the nightmare of history — the attempt of a bureaucracy to administer the workers, instead of permitting the workers to administer themselves. It has remained for Christendom to present the spectacle of destruction scientifically engineered, murder's consmnmate pattern and masterpiece. Nations are a homicidal mania; a subordination of ideal ends to commercial poUcy, which policy can only end in warfare. Nationalism has prevailed ever since modem society went erring after the false gods of Venice and Tyre. Let the decline continue, Earth will become a mortuary car, and the round world a mausoleum. Peace? So long as the workshops are unfree, a treaty of peace contrives a peace that is no peace; and the ravens are hoarse that croak its coming. It is not too late to retrieve our civiUzation. Munic- ipaUty can reintegrate men into the social bond; has power to reknit the ravelled fabric; that the morrow of mankind may be glorious. The classic world inculcated it, all the noble ages have re-echoed it, this day of thunder and eclipse must heed it: the Free City, sovereign above all crowns and kingdoms, a lacework of industrial so- cieties in confederation scopeful as the arms of the god- head, to embrace the habitable territories of mankind. CHAPTER XV CARA P ATRIA, CARIOR LI BERT AS WAR is caused by inattention to government. Famine, pestilence, graft, and immorality are caused by inattention to government. The Luminous Ages have been signallized by a pubhc-minded- ness in the people; a folk who paid attention to their collective transactions. The Dull Ages have always been marked by a private mind in the people. Animals are private-minded. The human eras in history, as dis- tinguished from the animal eras, have witnessed in man a social description of heart and mind. In order to arouse in the people of America a pub- lic consciousness, and so transform the human animal into a human being, "Citizenship Campaigns" are being inaugurated. We see them taking the form of city clubs, independence leagues, neighborhood associations, civic alliances; committees and societies of many names but with a common purpose; to awaken the people from their egoistic absorption into a concern for government. Prob- ably the finest idealism of our day is here engaged. To supplant private-heartedness by public-heartedness is to broaden the mind, curb the appetites, refine the conver- sation, tighten the cords of the will, ennoble and heighten and strengthen all of man's life. Therefore one can only lament the ill success which these evangeUsts of good government are meeting. Selfishness in America is on 207 208 THE FREE CITY the increase. The percentage of grammar school, high school, and college graduates who are dedicating them- selves to careers of altruistic service is steadily declining. "Percentage," I say. The absolute number may be in- creasing. But in proportion to the growth of population, it is decreasing. The tides of self-aggrandizement are sweeping more and more torrentially. Each year, less of American youth prefer the work that is purely service- able to work that is lucrative. The poUtical fabric in America is not designed to produce public-spirited men and women. Amateur social workers and altruistic committees proceed on the notion that preaching to and pleading with the people, wUl produce an alert populace. Our Constitution does not encourage in the people an active and constant thought toward the government. To the contrary. Under the confederation, the Thirteen States were proceeding prosperously, except in that one respect: the common people were participating overmuch in the affairs of state. In order to call a halt on that propensity and close the minds of the people within their private affairs, Hamilton and his men wrested away the seat of sovereignty from the neighborhoods where the people hved, and fixed it in a distant spot; whereby government has become an esoteric thing, operating upon the multitude from afar, invisible as choke damp, invulnerable as a mist. That Constitution has shaped American life into its image. Could not help but do so. Let me fashion the governmental fabric, I care not who fashions the residue of man's life. The pohtical form determines everything else. Associate people in this maimer or in that, their thoughts and sentiments and wills, their doings by day and their dreamings in the night, will be shaped in con- formity therewith. Theology, ethics, psychology, the CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 209 physical sciences, art, industry — all of these are branches of pohtical science. The state is the totaHty, of which everything else in heaven and earth is a part. Even the stars in their courses will be related to a people according to the manner in which those people are related to each other. That Americans have become the most private-minded folk in Christendom, is not surprising. Our Constitution establishes the most highly centrahzed fabric of govern- ment on the face of the earth. In the celebrated case of Cohens v. Virginia, John Marshall said of the States: "They are members of one great empire." The rulership has been lifted out of our hands, given over into the keep- ing of a professional class. Debarred thus from growing a governmental consciousness, the people have remained down on the ego plane. This shunting of the life power into self-centeredness has accumulated in Americans a high-voltage privateering, more tigerish and ravening than was ever seen in any other time or place. So long as these voracities could flow off into free land beyond the Mississippi, not much of friction or colhdings were felt. Now, with the damming back upon itself of this privateer- ing mania, the Donnybrook Fair and universal scrimmage is commencing. We look forth on a day of dissolution, a decomposing of society into fractional things called egos. As one gazes upon the spectacle, one gets the impression of a planet shivering into asteroids. IndividuaUsm is the opposite of civiUzation. It is the code of the jungle, as contrasted with the neighborly and benignant institutes of civil society. If civiHzation is to continue in America, a social mind will have to replace the ego mind. Sentimental endeavor will not effect that change. Exhortations to good citizenship are as the lighting of a torch to turn night into day. Though we 210 THE FREE CITY kindle many a bonfire, the shadows will gather deep and deeper. The night can be dispelled only by wheeling the earth back into the sun. A large state means an ego- centric society. A small state means a commmio-centric society. Night will endure, until nationahty gives way to municipality. Our Constitution makes for political quietism. Munic- ipaUty makes people diligent. Nationahty makes them docile. Democracy means self-ownership: a community cherishing inviolable frontiers, hving a unique life, work- ing out an undictated destiny. America has prohibited a democratic form of society; has constitutionalized a bureaucratic form of society. Which is not to blaspheme the bureaucrats. They are fettered in the same chain wherewith they fetter us. God help us all, we have every- one been caught in the evil web, we are all tarred with the same culpability. There is one thing more dis- reputable than to be ruled by poUticians; and that is, to be one of those politicians. Washington is an arti- ficial city, the capital of an artificial civiUzation. But even an artificial civiHzation is better than no civilization. Until a different poUtical structure is instituted, our bureaucrats will have to continue their graceless iUiberal task. Nationalism is not grounded in self-government; it is grounded in representative government, that is to say, in poUticianism. An imperator, elected to serve four years, is during those four years an imperator. And if, at that expiration, another be elected, is it not an impera- torship perpetual? The fact that we sign away our freedom voluntarily, does not condone the perfidy of the deed but blackens it. To be under a king is better than to be under a capitaUst; for at least the people did not vote the chains upon their wrists and leg bones. Op- CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 211 pression by the consent of the oppressed — is it not the most entirely damned condition a people can get into? It is difficult to treat of these things, in a book addressed to moderns. The people have departed so widely and through so long time now from the principle of civic freedom that they have lost the very concept of it. Those grooves of thought, worn by the heroism of high-spirited forefathers, have become filled up. With the average American, representative government has been inoculated into his system by subtle indoctrination through one hundred and thirty years. Modern man has lost not only the remembrance but even the reUsh of hberty; as a drunkard's palate, inured to artificial Uquids, gets after a time to find spring water a tasteless and unnatural drink, PoUticians are corrupt — and ought to be. A people so immersed in private affairs that they have no time for pubUc business, do not deserve to have that pubUc busi- ness attended to. Representative government means that the mass of the people are busy with private gainings. Then why may not the pohticians also go in for private gainings? When the people are out for their own pockets all the time, why may not the hired representatives of that people likewise be out for their own pockets all the time? Politicianism is God's punishment upon a people engrossed in selfishness. The politician who steals is not hated of the Upper Powers. If pohticians were honest it would be a ciu^e to the human race. Because then the people would forget their responsibihty for the state, would lapse comfortably into egoistic sloth; and self- government would perish everlastingly. The pohtical corruption that is scourging America is of God's doing. The boss and the boodler are a cat-o'-nine-tails in the hands of a merciful Father in heaven, to chastise His disobedient but well-beloved America. 212 THE FREE CITY Politicians have a charter from heaven to steal with both hands. When the people are private-minded, the ofl&ce-holders are going to be private-minded also. Cer- tainly, stealing is inmioral. But seK-aggrandizement is immoral too. The same Book that forbids the one, issues an equally thunderous veto against the other. The com- merciahst profit-hunter is of one stripe with gangsters that nest in Congress lobbies — profiteers, both of them. Mercantile extortioners and pohtical boodlers are under one and the same condemnation. Why should we ask a pohtician to die poor, when the people who elected him to office are heaping barrels of money? A people so sunk in privateering that they entrust their pubUc af- fairs to an officialdom, must not be offended when those officials do some privateering on their own account. How, how mistaken, the notion that office-holders will be altruistic, when the people are avaricious! Representative government is invisible government. And the invisibility increases with the size of the state. In Massachusetts under the Articles of Confederation, we saw that, though government by a direct assembUng of the people was impossible, nevertheless the seat of that government was so close to the homes of the people that, through Shays and his men, they could get their will accomplished. Per contra, a sovereignty that embraces three thousand miles of territory — thrice the area of the Roman Empire — is the perfection of invisibihty. At so great a remove from those who elected them, office-holders will act on the same principle as those who sent them to that far away spot; for their own profit, first, last and all the time. Otherwise they would not truly "represent" their people. Since the beginning of the world, repre- sentative government never represented anything except the money power. Invisible government is always CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 213 malevolent to liberty. We have got to stop blaming the poUtician, and apportion the guilt where it belongs. Self-seeking by merchants and plumbers and manu- facturers, is quite as heinous in the eyes of heaven as self- seeking by a pohtical boss. Representative government means ruthlessness for material success. In which game the place-holders, bitten by the same mania, will prove quite as adept as the materialists who elected them. Some have the idea that "invisible government" is an inexact phrase; because the people do the electing, and can choose whom they wish. But they do the electing — if the geographical area be large — through pohtical parties, the management of which is also invisible. Con- trive a thousand devices. Direct Primary, what you will, representative government is machine government. Elec- tion Day is but a reshuffling of the same crooked deck. "Initiative, Referendum and Recall!" "Recall" gives to the people the privilege of calling back one pohtician, and sending another pohtician in his place. "Referen- diim and Initiative" mean, government by post card. They who think that three thousand miles of people can concert a daily administration of their affairs by means of postal cards, think sentimentally. To annihilate miU- tarism, the people must control not only the war power but also the diplomatizings that lead up to war. And that means a quick and constant deciding of decisions. Can three thousand miles of people decide decisions quickly and constantly? For civil hberty, a castle of post cards builds quite too pregnable a fortress. Bad visibihty is the cause of our pubhc apathy. As the distance of the capital city from the homes of the people increases, the visibility becomes worse. Distance is of all obscurations the most effectual. No wall so imper- vious, no curtains of secrecy so complete, as miles of in- 214 THE FREE CITY tervening space. To nationalize means, to remove the seat of power far from the people. To mmiicipalize means, to bring the seat of power back towards the people. The smaller the state — down to the point of self -subsist- ence — the more democracy. The larger the state, the more plutocracy. Only in big states can be found the greatly rich. The size of the state, and the size of the millionairic fortunes within that state, always keep step with each other. As the state enlarges, democracy diminishes. Bureau- cracy is the confiscation of hberty. Home rule is heaven; delegated rule is hell, a hell seven times heated, and growing hotter. Under nationahty, the government owns the people. Under municipaHty, the people own the government. Than America, there is no other spot in Christendom where government is more subterranean, and where the masses Hve so dispiritedly. Moses tmned the waters of Egypt into blood; Alexander Hamilton turned the blood of Americans into water. The fate of a hundred miUion people emanates from a government oflfice. So there has arisen in the multitudes a quality of fatalism. Government is private to seven or eight. Why should a comjnon man concern himself with matters too high for him? Representative government is impeached of the high crime and misdemeanor of poisoning the wellsprings of civilization. It is the most subtle form into which empire can be thrown. It permits big-business, safe- guarded behind a screen of inscrutability, to exact the maximum of tribute with the minimum of accountability. It has fostered in the people a dereliction of pubUc duty, so that they have to be dragged to the polls, or coaxed by chowder parties. It has gelded the people of their manhood; has blasted them into torpor of soul, the CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 215 lethargy that creeps through the moral system when people accept a fate not of their own making. MoraUty is mastery over impulse; a capacity in the people of judg- ing and acting for themselves. Self-government engen- dered that capacity in our forefathers. Representative government is destroying it in their children. In sup- planting democracy with bureaucracy, it has infected all the processes of life. So that the idea of the State has wellnigh dropped out of modern consciousness. The sense of a social bond is disappearing. Our cities are not cities, but a piggery of people attracted thither by the rattle of the feed-trough, and rushing down to Gadarene disaster. Commercial imperialism has Uberated in the American heart a rapacity for gain; instead of celestial co-operation, we have the hyena creed of competition. A madhouse bedlam. One hundred millions of people with but one thought: to bite and devour each other. Nationalism means great-monied men stronger than the laws. And we saw that it was done wantonly by Hamilton and his coterie, to swell the hallelujah chorus of the rich. In a national state, the governors and the governed are not the same people. In a municipal state, the governors and the governed are the same people. Therefore municipal government is free government. The municipahty is the natural guardian of the people. It is there that the problems of life have their intimate and familiar seat. Redemption works never at long dis- tance or by absent treatment. The community is our Generatrice, and our Protectress. In the days of her sovereignty, she has always been of fierce and overmaster- ing affection for her own. No creature so ferocious as a mother if, when her babes are milking her, danger draws near to threaten them. But now the municipahty is helpless. Her power has been taken from her; has been 216 THE FREE CITY lodged in a government hundreds of miles away from us; whose efforts to save the people are as if a surgeon should treat a grievously wounded man, by long distance tele- phone. The towns are La subordination to continental grandees; and the American city sits, disarmed, fettered, manacled. In this her pitiable estate, she is of no more protection to her children than an ant hill when the ant- eater darts in his all-searching sinewy tongue. Not brick nor steel nor street lamps nor sewers, but sovereignty is the first requisite to the building of a city. Let her confide to a power outside of her the spindle and shears of destiny, she no longer has prestige to mesmerize her people into obedience, or charm them into eager fidelity. Her councils then are but a debating society. Adult men will not interest themselves ia a debating society. "Succor and esteem the civil authority!" But under nationaUsm that civil authority becomes a junta of pohticians, far-distant and suspected. So that the social compact is being undennined. Men are casting to the winds obedience, honor, respect, and loyalties. Mer- cenary madness is epidemic. Cupidity calls the tune, to which both the opulent and the lowly are dancing. More and more the people are inattentive to their kingly and dear-bought prerogatives of hberty. A sheer deviltry of self-enrichment. Instead of cities we see a meshwork of maggots, each of them positively believing that it is more blessed to receive than to give. Social enthusiasts marvel that people are so apathetic to their neighborhood duties. But without war power, coinage, and foreign relations, a community is not a com- mimity. The amount of self-government accorded to the cities under our Constitution is of a piece with that generous reply of the parent to his child wishing to go swimming: CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 217 Yes my darling daughter; Hang your clothes on a hickory limb, But don't go near the waJter. Our communities have " self-government," in that they are permitted to decide for themselves whether they shall pave their streets with asphalt or cobble stones. And then we wonder why strong men no longer interest them- selves in civic affairs. Deprived of sovereignty, it is not very important to a community whether its highways be paved with asphalt or with cobble stones, or with neither. A servitude decked out with asphalt or cobble stones — is it not a servitude still? Municipahty wins the people to an interest in the State, by turning over to them the proprietorship of the State. It makes them shareholders in a poUtical partnership. In a small republic the citizens are personally members of the board of directorate. SeK-activity is aroused: an enthusiasm for, and conversancy with public affairs. Aristocracies, when they have deserved that high title, have been a set of people who stood up for the public. In a very real way a municipal commonwealth makes the citizens aristocrats; exalts the lowhest of them to be bondholders and directors in the State. George EUot's "Romola, " making a Florentine barber in his citizen's cap an eager participant in the pubUc questions of the day, showed fideUty to historical fact. The people of Florence were a Committee of Public Safety in perpetual session. The commimity owning itself — there is the formula of freedom and joy and nobihty and fellowship. With socialists, "internationalism" is a word to con- jure strong applause. As an expression of world brother- hood, the term is beautiful. But it belongs in the realm of social science, that mirage country of emotion and 218 THE FREE CITY preachment and dreamings. When one leaves that misty reakn for the hard clear region of political science, one no longer says "internationalism" but "interurban- ism"; a world confederacy of small republics. Poli- ticianism is the devil that is destroying us. Would a workingclass poUticianism be of a different breed? Na- tionaUsm is government of the many by the few. In- temationaUsm would be government of the very many by a very few. There is one thing that Wall Street likes better than nationalism; and that is internationahsm. A World State; one imperialistic capital ruling all the tracts and areas of the globe! Mankind handed over into the power of a World Committee, with wide wastes of ocean separating the people from that Conmiittee — would it not enthrone a tyranny grinding and abusive beyond describing? Self-government is freedom. Repre- sentative government is the suicide of freedom. Inter- mimicipalism is the only true internationahsm. World consciousness is the superstructure, of which community consciousness must be the foundation. Until a man grows big-spirited enough to mow the weeds and clean the crosswalk in front of his house, he is not big enough to participate in a world directorate. The map of the world is a mosaic of conmiunities. Unify the com- munities, the unification of the world will take care of itself. An enthusiastic body of the proletariat has broken away from the Sociahst parties as a protest against poU- ticianism, or "parUamentarism," as it is termed in Europe. These are known as Syndicahsts. They demand — and justly — a change in the system of society, instead of a mere change in the politicians that shall administer the present society. "Direct Actionists," they term them- selves; and their feud with the "Political Actionists" CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 219 threatens to tear the labor movement asimder. Munic- ipality would imite these warring factions. A municipal republic proceeds by the method of poUtical direct action. It proclaims the principle of poUtical government, which means, orderly rule by majority vote; and yet it tolerates no pohticians as the treacherous channel through which alone the will of the voters now can function. MunicipaUty supplants the poUtician state with a democratic state, small enough so that the citizen says "L'^tat, c'est moi." When the individual says. The State and I are one, and She is the one, in that moment the animal is transformed into a human being. In Athens a man could be put on trial and punished for incivism, want of affection to the State. She announced that a man must not develop interests of his own, apart from his interests as a member of the commonwealth. The Narcissus parable — a man hypnotized with self -contem- plation — was her rebuke of the lookingglass code of con- duct; little man inflated with self-importancy. The Free City breeds active citizenship, a life lived with pubhc meaning and social purpose. *i To the extent that municipaUsm flomishes, poUti- cianism perishes. Even under city commonwealths, participation by all of the people in all of the doings of the state is not to be expected. Athens, the most entire democracy yet attained, was not perfect. Nor will perfection ever be. A community, complete in fellow- ship and freedom, with all of the people a himdred per cent pubUc-minded, is the goal of the universe. It will require eternity for its consummation. All that we can expect to do is to travel in that direction; well assured that each horizon attained will disclose a further sky-line, a higher perfection on beyond. At present the world is travelling in the opposite direction, toward more and more 220 THE FREE CITY politicianism — larger and larger political aggregates. That is another way of saying, we are in an era of deca- dence. To turn, and set our faces toward municipaUty, will start humankind on the Upward Trail. The city repubUc is the criterion of progress. As the seat of government recedes from the community, Dollars amal- gamate their empire with coronation and great might. As the seat of government comes back toward the com- munity, the people regain the dominion, the power, and the glory. The clash between those two tendencies, is the drama of the ages. As with all fences, the hedge of civic hberty will continually need repairs. Like to a diUgent Husbandman, the Spirit of Municipality seeks daily to make the fence horse-high, bull-strong, hog-tight. Nor is that Husbandman altogether without success, in the task of democracy to which He has committed Himself. Reports the Lord Mayor of Manchester: "The growth of municipal responsibilities illustrates the irresistible drift of pubKc affairs. The democratic ideal is being worked out through municipaUties. Com- munism and sociaHsm, words of terror a few short years ago, are finding a peaceful solution in various phases of municipal work. For what are free hbraries, art galleries, baths, parks, technical schools, tramways, but commu- nistic efforts. We need some stimulus to quicken our sense of the value of mutual helpfulness. Some day men will awake to the immense possibiUties of corporate action; and the community will find salvation, not in the patron- age and gifts of the wealthy, but in the combined and intelligent efforts of the people themselves." Also in the reUgious unrest of our time, signs of con- solation arise. Palestine was wonderful. But America likewise can be glorified into wonderfulness. The Bible is the grammar of poUtics. Naught but City-worship CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 221 will bring a revival of piety and religious emotion. "I say no man has ever been half devout enough," insisted Walt Whitman; "none has ever yet adored or worshipped half enough. I say that the real and permanent grandeur of these States must be their reUgion; otherwise there is no real and permanent grandeur." Wheresoever a Free City emerges, is thenceforth the world's center of gravity. It matters not how far into the backwoods, or how inclement her natm-al setting. Autonomy is of so wizard a virtue, it can transform bleakness into beauty, garnish a desert into song and roses. Self-government is the out- ward sign, of which fellowship is the inward reaUty. And fellowship is the core of the cosmos. Let a sovereign city arise, it is advertisement that the hub of the universe is there protruding. It will build a Florence in the sands of Arizona, a Nuremburg in the mule-lands of Missouri. Nq stream less fitted for a dramatic role in history, than reed-choked diminutive Jordan. Yet the waters of it are bottled for shipment to the ends of the earth, so potent is municipaUty unto a landscape's glorification. Christianity is a persuasion of civil freedom, or it is nothing. In self-government all moraUties and all spirit- uaUties lie germinant. The Comraimc is mandatory upon us by dispensation of The Eternal. Not easily will the boon be acquired. If the cat would eat fish it must wet its feet. Between the big commercial state and the small artistic state, is an immortal conflict. Empire versus Self-determination! Plutocracy against democracy! the church must take sides. Scripture tells us of a time once when the saint was not a sap-head. Religion must no longer try to slink through the world. "Government by the consent of the governed," is the modernistic creed; and because of it we behold money's immoderate do- minion. Government by the governed, is Heaven's 222 THE FREE CITY categorical commandment; obedience to which has illu- minated the pages of history with the epochs we brag of most. Not alone in Palestine is the Father Almighty at home. MunicipaUty unfolds a liberal and expanded view of the steppings of God through history. In Rome He had a dwellingplace. Attica and the Gothic communes knew Him. Under various names He was known; but it was He, the Spirit of Freedom; very God of very God. The Free City is God's attempt to build for Himself a habita- tion. More than once the winds have stormed in upon the structure and tumbled it. But with inexhaustible patience He girds Himself anew to the task. The Bible is the textbook of municipahty; in whose cause Lord Christ was wounded unto death. I wish I had the skull of Jesus. I'd make of it a beaker jfilled with the wine of life. And I'd put its rim to the lips of youth upon their 21st birthday; to consecrate them in that bowl to an emulation of the most entire Patriot of which history preserves the record. I'd bid each of them drain the goblet, and pledge therein his city's honor, a fame of majesty for her, hberal sovereignty, and grandeur long- lasting as the sun. The municipal republic is the one article of faith which no skepticism has invaUdated. The only praise and worth is citizenship, in whose focus all the moraUties stand com- prehended. To him who is a good citizen, every other fault will be remitted. But he who is neghgent toward his city, though he be sainted with lesser virtues without number, is damned beyond the reach of mercy. Jerusalem was a municipal republic. In order to reproduce the spirituality of the Bible, we must reproduce the politi- cal form under which those Bible folk wrote and wrought. CARA PATRIA, CARIOR LIBERTAS 223 Religion cannot forevermore be an antiquarianism, something exhumed from out a dusty and mildewed past. Its one purpose — if the Bible be authentic — is to give a spiritual interpretation of the city, of every city; in- spiring her with a consciousness of her statehood. Self- government is Lord God functioning; a community resolved to listen to Him, in the Within, rather than to turn its ear to dictates from outside, vox populi, vox DEI. Democracy is Deity. The voice of a free people is the voice of the Almighty; concentrating within the com- mune all power, authority, and dignities; permitting none to have jurisdiction over them save the Prince of fellow- ship, to walk in His marvellous light forever. So will be liberated once more a climate salubrious to the soul and her mansions, as mammonism's fog and filthy air is not. Except the city of men be a City of God, the builders build not a city but a cock-pit. CHAPTER XVI THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY ART is territoriality sublimated into a temperament. It is a segment of Natm-e, soaking up into and finding expression through a people domiciled in that geographical spot. Wherefore, art and mimicipality are fellows. The municipal state is one whose boundaries were laid out by Nature. National boundaries, knowing chiefly a lust of commercial winnings, stretch themselves irrespective of natural demarcation. Within that huge area are spoken a diversity of languages, by peoples of diverse bloods, dwelling in a diversity of climates. The hodge-podge may be as motley as the American nation. No matter. Inconsiderately, the nation expands the boundary to in- clude the conglomerate mass; for it is based on but one principle of unification: a universal belief that man's life consisteth in the abundance of things man possesseth. So long as that creed is held, the nation continues. One faction of the money-getters may overthrow another faction. It is but a change of administration. So long as money-getting is the dominant goal, the principle of nationality has nothing to fear. It is when there emerges an ideal higher than self-enrichment, nationalism begins to totter. Patriotism is the adoration of locality. That is why it is truly met with only under a mimicipal ordering of life. The patriot is one who adores Nature. A man can 224 THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 225 adore only one particular wedge of Nature. Adore, I say. He can admire other spots, can like those other spots, can wish well to those other spots. But he can adore only one. And that is the spot where he lives, where his fathers Uved before him, and where he confides that his children shall live after him. Patriotism is geography raised to the boiling point; so that it effer- vesces into poetry and art and heroism. There is not fire enough in a man's heart to raise a multitude of land- scapes to that boiling point. To achieve so high a tem- perature the heat must be concentrated. In comparison with that which we see in communes like Israel or Attica, huge modern states present but a pseudo-patriotism. Citizenship is city-worship. And by "worship" I mean the word in its rapturous and kindling sense. A commercial folk can get along in the realm of the prosaic. An artistic civiHzation can nourish itself only in the kingdoms of the subconscious — those magical empower- ments surging up without call or bell. Nature heated to incandescence is patriotism; patriotism, when it has achieved coherency of expression, is genius. Small states have produced the great men. Take from the roster of fame the names written there by municipal republics (and those who drew their inspiration from municipal repubhcs) you will have taken away all of the brilliances, leaving but a dinginess of mediocrity to mark man's path across the years. A fact as big as that happens by cause. Some deep law must be at work. And that law we are here formulating. Nature is the uncon- scious. When taken up into our tissues and medulla, she becomes the subconscious. And that subconscious is the intoxicating realm whose afflatus is known as genius. Patriotism is this intimacy between man and nature. To achieve it, man must settle down. An oak tree can 226 THE FREE CITY be transplanted, and still live; but every transplanting sets it back. Men are trees walking. Quite as truly as the oak, our roots reach into the good brown soil. Fre- quent pulling up of roots is as deleterious to human growth as to tree growth. In the communal ages, when man remained rooted, the powerful strength of the earth seeped up into the nerves of his mind; made the brain more highly vitahzed; buoyed him up on an immense ethereal flood. The man felt himself to be concentric with the polar axis, the influences of Pleiades, the bands of Orion. Occult secrecies were opened unto him; the balancings of the clouds and the mysteries of the Zodiac. The thunder of that power came upon him hke a wide breaking in of waters. And genius is the name we give to it. Said Aristotle: "No great genius was ever with- out some admixture of madness; nor can anything grand or superior be spoken except by the agitated soul." The fact is incontestable: life in community states sends down deeper roots and pushes into loftier branch- ings, than life in large commercial states. That is why it develops a civihan rather than a military fabric: "The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace." Nationalism is a force making inevitably for war, because it is a force expanding in the sideways direction. The surface of the earth is limited. But commercial greed is unlimited. So these lateral-thrustings known as nationalisms spread and spread until they coUide. Which colUsions, now that the globe is full peopled, must become more frequent and more sanguinary. NationaUty sprawls; municipaUty delves. It is the difference between a commercial civilization and an artistic civihzation. Of that City of God in the Apoc- alypse we read: "The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal." Commerce is the worship of THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 227 superfluity; a measuring of success by bigness; Quan- tum is its godhead. Art digs into the deeps and chmbs unto the heights; works intensively, not extensively; measures all things by the standard of quality. To sprawl is not meritorious — the jelly fish can do that. For business in the vertical direction, vertebrates appeared. Some will ask why Nature-worship is necessarily tied to a communal form of life; why may it not be cultivated by each individual for himself? Thoreau at Walden Lake, for example; Nature devotee, and yet Uving in a hermit's cabin. The answer is. Nature always presents herself to us in mass formation, and can be counter- poised only by human beings in mass formation. Fierce and fractious in the wild abundance of her strength, she must first be mastered. Individual man cannot master her. Even savages are compelled to practise a primitive form of association, in order to exist; animals too know the herding instinct. Take any geographical nook. Make a catalogue of the Nature-forces there massed: the river, the springs that feed it, the pastures alongside, prowlers and creep- ing things and insects, weeds and tangling vines pushing with ceaseless urge, winds and hail and electric storms — a plexus of vitalities and powers and movements beating in upon that spot; and mountain-like in their ensemble. A Robinson Crusoe was shipwrecked solitary amid such a mass. And the reader will recall how helpless he lay. It is not good for man to be alone. Nature tramples him as a bullock tramples a pismire. "Tribeless, lawless, heartless ones," Homer wrote of such. And Aristotle says of this lonely type: "He may be compared to an unprotected piece in the game of checkers." Crusoe, as the story narrates, preserved a something 228 THE FREE CITY of human ascendency, because the ship that had brought him, furnished methods and implements and suppUes which had been perfected by the communion of mankind through long-civiUzed centuries. Thoreau in like man- ner took to Walden Lake a civiUzation ready-made: the pen he wrote with, the paper he wrote upon, the fire- kindling match, the kettle, the axe he borrowed, the pattern for the building of his house. With even this start the contest proved unequal. The hardships wore down his endurance. Disease took him untimely away. As anything smaller than the community is too feeble to maintain itself, so in the other direction a poUtical grouping larger than the community is a misfit and a misery. Nature presents herself in blocks or segments known as locaUties. Each locality is a unit. One is a sea coast, another is a river valley, another is a plateau. Our planet is covered with many locahties. These differ as to the slant of the sun, slope of the prevailing winds, quahty and temperature of the air, sequence of seasons, geological antecedents, relationship v/ith neighboring locaUties, the constellations overarching and the earth crust undergirding. And these natural diversities ought to be permitted to express themselves in the peoples there inhabiting; making them also diverse one from the other. Peoples thus differently situated can be crushed into pohtical uniformity only by divorcing them from their natural settings. Nationalists, forasmuch as they live thus in an arti- ficial fabric of state, are not children of Nature. They seek to escape from Nature, by getting rich. To be rich is to be enabled to Uve an existence divorced from Nature. Money permits its possessor to eat without putting his hands to the soil, travel without putting his feet to the ground; to wear clothing, and never see the sheep's THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 229 wooly back, the cotton tufting itself in the boll, and the flax upthnisting in a sea of yellow or golden brown. A desire to be rich, serves notice upon Nature that we no longer desire her company. Under a nationaUst form of society, labor is always in disrepute; the entire trend is to escape from toil and live by the toil of others — toil, which is our method of intimacy with the Great Mother. Under nationalism, parents pray day and night that heaven will avert from their children a career of manual labor. Of all occupations, that of the farmer comes into closest contact with Nature in all her forms. And the temper of society in nationalist America is so averse to agricultural work that the farms are being depopulated. We see a mad drive toward the urban centers; as in that other commercial empire, Rome-of-the-decadence. A farmer walking up Broadway with wide brimmed straw, top boots, suspenders, pitchfork or hay rake over his shoulder, would obstruct traffic, would probably call out the poUce reserves. And yet not one of the boys and men in that hilarious crowd could exist seven days with- out the foodstuffs provided by that farmer and his com- rades of the soil. Nationalism may be defined as a scheme of society whereby a class of non-producers may hve without looking Nature in the face. The overciviHzed modern would have been shocked could he have looked in on the burgher folk of Gothic communes; their leather garments handed down from father to son; going their journeys on foot and sleeping where night overtook them. Often the turnip cellar was their sole means of subsistence for weeks at a time. The great hall was strewn with rushes; or in Italy, with laurel leaves, and with twigs of the juniper, in Norway. From imder the bed in the corner could often be heard the quacking of a duck or the honk of a goose. In the thir- 230 THE FREE CITY teenth century water was brought into London by con- duit; a poor thing consisting of lead pipe. But they greeted it with 6clat: abundance of water, "for the poor to drink and the rich to dress their meat." Nuremburg had to prohibit pigs and stock from running loose in the streets; and we get glimpses of her poet, Hans Sachs, sitting on the bench in front of the tavern, quaffing huge steins. In Ulm, the baker's guild had to decree that its members should confine cows to their stalls at night. We get glimpses of wooden shoes, oiled linen in heu of glass, garments of homespun butternut. Yet life with them was deUcious; and the work of their hands wrought lovely shapes beyond our poor power even to imitate. One of the last services of Rodin was to plead with his countrymen not to repair a Gothic cathedral; because, said he, there was a magic in man's handiwork in that time which moderns cannot achieve; the touch df a nowaday bungler is instantly apparent, spoils the unity of the structure. Nature craves intimacy with man. He is her appa- ratus whereby she climbs up out of unconsciousness, through subconsciousness, into self consciousness. "The Sun is my father and the Earth is my Mother; on her bosom I will rest," said Tecumseh. A blind Mother is she. So she has given birth to man in order that his eyes may guide her sightlessness. Her joy is to be in the company of her children, these humans she has brought into being at so great a cost of birth pangs: DEUCTAE MEAE ESSE CUM FILIIS HOMINUM. From prO- toplasm to Plato, self-expression on the part of Nature is the lu-ge that drives the imiversal scheme. It is at her instigation, man puts on the garland and the singing robe. Art is territoriaUty expressing itself. A municipal com- monwealth is a community that has the courage to be THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 231 itself; delivering its own message to the world and not the message of another. That pride of locaUty is the courage that makes for originality of product. People in communes hve inimitably; and so build earth into a never-cloying paradise. MunicipaHty is a distributer of metropoHtan grandeur and dignities. The Bible is one long speech proclaiming that the city which is not a free city is a disgraced city. Whenever a municipal commonwealth emerges, straight- way the angels start constructing a stairway to that spot. In glorifjdng herself, the Free City is glorifying that geographical portion and segment of Nature. No fact is more obvious, than that the healthful spirit of locahsm has written the resplendencies and the picturesqueness into the record of man. Modernisms' disgusting uni- formity is obUterating the Swiss chalet, the Irish brogue, the Highland kilt. Everything to travel with, but no spot worth travelling to. Steam cars, motor cars, aero cars — and nowhere to go! We have swift means of communication; but very little to communicate. Tele- phone, telegraph, aero-post, wireless — and nothing to say The United States Constitution concentrates the sovereignty of the American continent in one spot; to which all other spots are provincial and tributary. That favored spot is Manhattan Island. Ninety two per cent of the money in America, and therefore ninety two per cent of the government of America, is in New York City; a disproportion, furthermore, that is hourly growing; so terrific is the centralization of power that is taking place. New York is the capital of America; Washington is a deco- rative adjunct where the clerks and stenographers are kept. From which fact there is taking place a cheapening of all other places. It is as if New York Bay, with its horse- shoe prongs of the East and North Rivers, formed a 232 THE FREE CITY colossal magnet attracting everybody in America; start- ing money to journey in this direction, prompting sons and daughters on every farm to get ready to move in this direction. Boards of investigation are scratching per- plexed skulls to solve the country-life problem, discover some method of turning back to the rural districts the magnetism that is setting so mightily towards the urban centers. Their recommendations have left the principle of nationalism untouched. Therefore they have ad- vanced no appreciable inch towards a remedy. Indeed, students are beginning to feel that the blood-sucking drain of vitahty from the farmsides must continue; leaving the rural regions finally to be populated by rustics, a peasant class of the left-behinds — countryfolk who were too de-vitaUzed to feel the tug citywards, or too shiftless to pull up stakes and move. "Very few farms anywhere in Ohio have any men under middle age, and much of the work is done by old men." The growth of farm- tenantry is the dominating social fact in half the Missis- sippi Valley. Away from the farm into the village, away from the village into the smaller cities, away from the smaller cities into the bigger cities, away from the bigger cities into New York — that is America's national anthem. Nationalism is a device for depopulating the farm. It worked that way under the Roman Empire; has worked that way in modem nationalist Europe; is working that way in America. Peasants are agriculturalists in whom the fire of sovereignty has died out. New York is to Kansas City what Babylon was to Jerusalem. The worshippers of the Golden Calf were content that Pales- tine should.be administered from Babylon as its capital and center. They who stood for the ark-of-the-covenant — that civic palladium — insisted on a Jerusalem- centered state. Many an agricultural folk to-day, THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 233 subserviently accepting a pallid and diminutive destiny, is worshipping a golden image which Palestinian citizens in their day burnt with fire and ground into pieces and strewed on the water, so flame-hot was the fire of local patriotism that burned within them. Furthermore, this concentration of the riches and power of a continent in New York City, is not a gain even to her. It is swelling this town into a mammonism whose fevered existence is far from spiritual-mindedness. A dropsical bloat: Luxury Enlightening The World. Manhattan cannot take time to five; she is forever uptorn to trans- port and house the hordes that pour in upon her. The bloat is proceeding at so rapid a pace, she is continuously ripping up seams in her garment and letting out tucks. New York never is, she is always going to be. Every here and there you can find a stretch of street where a house is not being torn down or built. Those blocks would be desirable for residence, were it not that the pave- ment there is torn up to enlarge the subway. Behold the quiet beauty of old City Hall, contrasting with her "Municipal Building," just finished — a lithe and grace- ful David, glowered down upon by a hulk of a Goliath. Where the sovereignty is, people will congregate. ConsoHdate the sovereignty of a continent in one spot, all the Country Life Commissions in the world cannot prevent the population from tearing up its roots and migrating thitherward. The principle of municipaUty, on the other hand, scatters world-capitals throughout the length and breadth of the continent. Thereby it effects a healthy dispersal of the population; saves one favored center from going apoplectic with congestion. Sovereignty is like manure; if heaped in one place it enriches that spot unduly, so that it grows rank with weeds and worms; with an impoverishment of all the residue of the field. 234 THE FREE CITY In America one community monopolizes the sov- ereignty, to the humiliation of a hundred other com- munities. These outlying provinces thereupon lose their local tang, begin to imitate the capital city. It makes for universal monotony. Free Cities, on the other hand, parcel out the sovereignty with a hberal hand. It pushes up an archipelago of islands to sprinkle the ocean of sameness; diversifying the flat waste of waters with islands that federate but never coalesce. America is not a country but a continent. Unification of the people over so large an area could take place only by each com- munity consenting to give up that which individuaUzes it; the least common denominator of them all, is sheer animal existence; the one thing we have in common, all of the higher characteristics having been discarded from the calculation. That is why we Americans are medi- ocre. Mankind is called to hve variously. The white beam of sunshine is inartistic, until it has become broken apart into its component colors; then each tint is bril- liant by contrast with its neighbors — multicolor versus the monotone. MunicipaUty is the prism that takes the himian species and separates it into a varicolored spec- trum, a prismatic band encircling the globe and by whose pigmentation, life would be wondrously briUiant. Free Cities make for a wide and rich variorum. That gives cross fertilization; earth a flower bed of ten thousand distinct plants, seminating into the poUtical atmosphere an invigorating exchange of pollen. Naught could stale so infinite a variety. And Earth, though of the smallest of planets, would never have another epidemic of world- weariness. Nature is a nursing-mother with many breasts. Each several landscape is one of her teats. The community state is based on the principle that they who are suckled by milk from the same nipple, are fused into THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 235 a litter, a mystic communion; and that to disregard this natural mold and formula of statehood, is an irreverence toward the maternal milk. The more truly a people form a communal group at suck on her nourishing breast, the more pacific they are toward other clan-groups at suck on neighboring teats. For usurpation of another's territory they have no thought. The milk from the teat they are fastened to, seems to them sweeter than any other. Listen to Bentivoglio: "The Alps are created for the Swiss, and the Swiss for the Alps." Henry George was right: communal ownership of the soil is requisite for true civilization. The landless man is a helpless man, a castaway; riff-raff; as trees plucked up by the roots, raging waves of the sea whose waters cast up mire and dirt. The Free City socializes the ownership of a landscape, making all of the citizens co-proprietors. George sensed the affinity between his teaching and the principle of municipaUty. The final act of his life was to consecrate the municipal idea as mayoralty candidate in New York. Territorial freedom is of Henry Georgeism the quintessence. He preached the sanctity of the soil. The territorial crust we five upon comes from Godhead. It is an inheritance entailed upon the community, and not to be alienated. Any instrument conveying eminent domain of that tract of earth into the sovereignty of a power outside, is null and void. Many hearts are sighing for the Age of Faith, that olden time when man believed, and life was full of pres- ences and powers. Let imagination begiu once more to function, to-day's blankness and secularism will yield, will give way again to an Age of Faith. Psychologists with their false ego-philosophy — their introverted gaze — have been unable to account for imagination or explain its thaumaturgic doings. Imagination is the union of 236 THE FREE CITY Nature and human nature; a bursting of the below-the- threshold up into the dome of consciousness; fact and fancy shaking hands. That union is wrought only by the principle of municipality. Free Cities have woven the beautiful things into the time-tapestry, because they brought to pass imaginative epochs. A community state is the amphibious thing comprehending both psychology and geography, human nature and physical nature; middle form that joins thought and matter; form and substance kissing each other. That is imagination. By its working the wall of partition is broken down and the light of consciousness penetrates the cellar of the mind, that subbasement whose other name is Nature. It is the rainbow intermingling with the muck heap, and the pot of gold is their offspring. Imagination is a richer thing than either actuality or fantasy, because it is their synthesis, harmonizer that mediates between those con- tending opposites. Read Greek hterature, or the Bible, or the chronicles of the Gothic era, you will perceive imagination at work. The mind of that day was a world of half-Hghts. Then people dwelt in Nature, and Nature dwelt in them. Consciousness and Unconsciousness fraternized in a twilight zone called Subconsciousness; a magic infiltra- tion of hghts and shadows that painted the universe in a mystic chiaroscuro. That clear-obscure was not the garish hght of a desert, neither was it pitch-black night; but a vault of starhght clothed with dusk and dimness, realm of half-tones wherein weird strange forms started out of their enchanted sleep. People in those Ages of Belief Hved in a waking dream. They saw the world through a veil of love and faith and shrouding mystery; wherein the objects of sense were neither absent nor im- portunately present. Municipality's union of men and THE MYSTICISM OF MUNICIPALITY 237 the landscape they inhabit, rends the curtain that sep- arates the Conscious and the Unconscious. Thereby the spirit becomes naturahzed in a phantasmagoric world; a hundred-floored phalanstery ranging from seraph beings above, to gnomes in the grottos and profundities of the nether kingdom. In that posture of the mind, Delphic oracles. Sibylline leaves. Mounts of Transfiguration, runes of the Vikings, Dantesque infernos and paradisos, not only become credible; but make the flatness of an age of secularism seem incredible. Freud paints the neurasthenic wretchedness that af- flicts us when the Unconscious is imprisoned. Life in a Free City is never neurasthenic. When men congregate in this natural polity of state, the spiritual and the animal kingdoms are melodiously interfused; each moderating the other so that intemperances are discouraged. Munic- ipality tolerates no wall of separation between mentaUty and emotion. It blends the intellectual and the vital; shows us poets who were men of action, and men of action who were poets. Up to the Ninth Heaven, and through all the diablerie of hell, Dante was a pamphleteer fighting the fight of Florentine politics. This interplay of un- conscious Nature and conscious human nature is the image-forming faculty; externality and internaUty ce- menting an indivisible union. When the under world of the imconscious, and the upper world of the conscious are so myopic that they cannot see each other, each is the loser. The intellect then goes off into madcap romp- ings, irresponsible phantasy; and the repressed emotions riot stormfully in their dungeon, with neurasthenic con- sequences. When the pohtical fabric permits men to get on friendly terms with Nature, the smart circles that we call intellect, and the roughscuff of the physical realm become ac- 238 THE FREE CITY quainted. It is as though a trap door had been opened m the floor of the mind, affording to the mob of prisoners in the dungeon underneath, a passage and ventilation upwards. Cahban, by this hght, awakes to conscious- ness; goes thenceforth with Ariel, arm in arm. Then imagery commences, for the fiat lux has been uttered in the catacombs of the Unconscious. Nature becomes vivified; like dew at sunrise, steaming up into cloudfields that go pictorial with all shapes and pigmented with all colorings. The physical world by itself, unleavened and unillumined, makes for animaUsm. The thought world by itself, segregated in secluded aloofness, makes for pietism. Mysticism is the condition between, moderat- ing them both into a third entity that is different from either, as air is different from the oxygen and nitrogen that compose it; a glacier, we might say, flowing over into Gehenna and cooling its fever thirst. Three chapters back we saw that the community is the mid-point in the realm of the humanities, with the ego at the extreme Left, and the world at the extreme Right. Here we see that the community is the mid-point also be- tween Nature and human nature; a ladder extending from creatures of the dynosauric slime, up to highest inhabiters of the empyrean. Thus, the community is the crossing point of two teeter-boards; with perspectives leftward and right ward and downward and upward. Life at that center takes on an absolute existence; a fourth-dimensional tract of being. It explains why people in municipal epochs are supernormally endowed. CentraUty of centrahties, it is the meeting place of the lines that are horizontal and the hnes that are vertical; the point where the web and the woof concur. The tapestry that is woven of them is civiUzation. CHAPTER XVII THE SOCIAL STATE BEAUTY is that which takes us back home. And where is our home? Nature. It is she that has made us and not we ourselves. Does not the life of each one of us recapitulate the evolutionary ascent? The imiverse begins again with every child. Through the nine gestation months, the life-plasm proceeds through stages of crystal, vegetable, animal. Nor does birth cause a break in the ascending series. The child climbs the culture-ladder through the anthropoid forms, savage, barbarian, and the periods of civil history. Time, un- coiling thus her infinite spiral in the career of each of us, leaves in the marrow of our nerves the imprint of all the stages passed through. Beauty is anything that reminds us of those prehistoric Yesterdays in our existence: the grace of the lily, Utheness of the tiger, pomp of color that charms the bee to the buttercup's blossom, melody that is reminiscent within us of ancient arboreal life when we listened to our bird-mate at nesting time and were glad; or perhaps the music of the waters, that carry us back to aquatic ancestors. Line and color and sound are beauti- ful to us, when they are voices that thrill across from the home-kingdom to remind us of the life we used to live, in the old ancestral haunts. Art is our communion with those old voices shouting in our blood; hence, the mesmeric pull of it on our ganglia, 239 240 THE FREE CITY those convolutions of our cosmic past. There is a hom- ing pigeon in every one of us. The esthetic sense is the name of that pigeon. Our craving for beauty is our nostalgia for the old homestead. Not in utter emptiness come we into life, but trailing clouds of association from our infinite past. That homeland Hes about us in our infancy. That is why children beHeve in fairies. The prosaic world of sordidness and gain have not yet closed about the growing boy. Elves and brownies and dwarfs, lorelei and kelpie — he sees them in his joy. If he re- mains close to Nature he wiU continue to see them in his adulthood. Then he will write as Homer wrote, as David, as Virgil and as Dante. Meadow, grove and stream, and every common object, will seem the glory and the freshness of a dream. Wordsworth thought that Nature, the homely Nurse, does all she can to make her foster child, man, forget the glories he has known. Natm-e does quite the opposite. By a thousand sweet endearments she seeks to keep alive in us a remembrance of the homestead. Artists are the messengers she sends to us for this purpose; their produce, a reminder that we once were blood-brothers of bird and flower and the strong growth of beeches on the hilltop. Art's vocation is endless imitation of the forms and tints and circumstances of our historic and prehistoric past. Our deUght in a work of art is the dehght of a homesick boy who comes back to father's house and feels the arms of mother tightening around him. Municipahty is the social state, wherein man and Nature cohabit on terms of friendliest conununion. And beauty — naturalness — is the result. In such a political es- tabUshment, heels are not high, hats are not fantastic, speed laws are unknown. In city commonwealths people drink from the fountain more often than from the faucet. THE SOCIAL STATE 241 Frequently they eat with unwashed hands, and sleep in garments yet moist with the toils of the day. Three- quarters of the "cleanliness" that is found in our modern form of society is not cleanness but a badge of class dis- tinction. The rich use the bodies of the poor as stepping stones whereby their daintily sandalled feet touch not the mire of hfe; and then draw aside from companion- ship with those poor, on the plea that such folk are be- mired. In the Gothic municipalities the guildsmen, when mak- ing hohday, exchanged not their work-day clothes for leisure-class garments. In their festal procession they displayed the emblems and signs of their toil, with the pride yet seen when Masonic lodges don their apron. They formed liaison with Nature, a Haison extending to the mud of the field and the grime of the smithy. Mud! Why should human beings have a horror of mud? Mud is our nourishment, pulp of our existence, pap from the succulent teats of the faithful all-nursing Mother. From mud comes our food, the coat on our back, the roses that deck our table. Is it seemly to reUsh the product and scorn the producer? "Back to Nature" means back to mud. And they who hate mother mud hate Mother Nature. Modernism, with its vacuum cleaner, is not more cleanly than those old municipal eras, ankle deep in the brown and wholesome earth. We Uve not any longer or more healthily than they; and we can not pro- duce as they produced. Nationalism is a mania of uniformity. It seeks to make three thousand miles of America dance to the same tune; insists that Los Angeles with her palms and Bangor with her pines shall be huddled into one. It can see no difference between Jacksonville, amid her magnoUas, and Seattle with her snow-clad Mount Tacomah. Is the 242 THE FREE CITY Spanish moss at New Orleans one with the ebn trees of Saratoga? FederaUsm fraternizes the landscapes. Na- tionalism fuses the landscapes. Herbert Spencer has shown that progress is an evolution from uniformity towards multiformity; the homogeneity transforming into heterogeneity. The small state, forasmuch as it encourages variety in the peoples scattered throughout a continent, is evolution's handmaid. Around each several locality it draws a firewall of sovereignty; with categori- cal imperative, commands all the residue of the universe to keep its meddUng hands from that spot. Because within that firewall a holy work is consununating itself: a territorial segment of Nature is there climbing up into human nature, finding expression in homes and temples and statues and laws and dress and manners, in paintings and carvings and metal work and song and bibles. The Free City is an artistic necessity. NationaUsm is proud of the fact that it is abolishing space and time. Why in heaven's name abolish space and time? Space and time are all we've got. Abohsh space and time, you have aboUshed the universe. Earth is at best a third-rate planet — the runt of the flock, the stunted member of the family. Instead of destroying what space and time we possess, were it not wiser to make the most of the scanty measure that has been meted out to us? On so small a planet, do the best we can, we shall not be able to develop a greatly variegated fife; we have not a wide gamut of soils and climates and sceneries, such as an ordinary sized planet possesses. Instead of blurring our landscapes into one blot of indistinction — a dreary monotone of sameness from sea to sea — municipality would encourage each locality to bring forth after its kind; express its own essence and idiosyncrasy. An orchestra in which all the instruments are the same, is THE SOCIAL STATE 243 nationalism's ideal. An orchestration wherein each several instrument remains severely itself, and plays the tune according to its unique timbre, is municipality's ideal. The question of the future is not going to be, How to shorten the time of travel; but, How to make it worth while to travel at aU. You can go a thousand miles in America, and find one endless similarity; tank towns needing to be numbered so as to distinguish them from each other. You are hearing the modernistic boast, "Twenty hours from New York to Chicago." Under municipaUty it will take twenty weeks to go from New York to Chicago. Because then, Buffalo and Cleveland and Toledo will be something more than whistling sta- tions. Every mile of the journey will present a soul- awakening piquant surprise. Is there not a nobler form of existence than to rush and whiz? Take down the cross from the steeple-top; GasoUne is god; the speedometer is become the oracle and emblem of all blessedness. The death-dance is assuming the pro- portions of a St. Vitus plague. To the deranging of all the orbits of our life. In America many feel compelled to voyage abroad for "artistic miheu" and "atmosphere." The true artist is he who is more consunmiately patriotic than others; stays at home; takes the commonplace and coins it into legend and song and color. There came a time when the Greeks no longer saw Divinity in the uncommon produce of each common day. Their phantasy roamed afar, looked to find the Fortunatus Fields and Hesperides with its golden fruit, in the Atlantic Main. Then her art de- clined. Kaaterskill-on-the-Hudson is quite as present- able a creature to sit for her portrait, as Jungfrau or the Ranges of Andalusia. Or perhaps the mountain here is 244 THE FREE CITY not as yet dressed and ready to be put on canvas. In which case the true artist will do as did the patriot in Memphis-on-the-Nile. He will take the rock inass, with affectionate chisel will carve it into a Sphinx head that will intrigue all after-ages. And then he will paint her portrait. We look east and west for inspiration, when there is a Pantheon in the clay bank under our feet, a Rembrandt in the group at the grocery, an oratorio in the tramp of ten thousand shoes on the pavement. Mod- ernity is overdoing locomotion. True architecture asks but Uttle of life's transportation department. Rome was built out of the brickyards back of the Vatican. The PenteUc hills, not a score of miles removed from her, built Athens. The landscape rejects an edifice built of alien materials. To such a building the skies are hostile, the birds forsake it, the sun looks upon it disgruntled. Nationahsm is a polity of state for making millionaires. MunicipaUsm is a poHty of state for making master- workmen. An exact thermometer of the artistry or non- artistry of a period, is to be foimd in the status of the workingclass. When the laborer is in high repute, it is an age of art. To-day, not the workman's blouse but white collars and lily hands are the style; and mediocrity marks the output. In Wagner's " Meistersinger of Nuremburg," the cobbler wins the musical prize; be- cause his themes had been chosen from the folk-songs of the people. We read in the Arthiu" stories of one who rode to King Arthur's castle and knocked for admission. "I will not open," said the porter; "there is revelry in Arthur's hall, and none may enter but the son of a king of a privileged country, or a craftsman bringing his craft." Is handtoil nowadays the passport to social distinction? "In every Indian village," reports Birdwood of that wonder-continent south of Thibet, "handicrafts are still THE SOCIAL STATE 245 to be found at work; the hereditary potter, two or three looms, the brass and coppersmiths hammering away at their pots and pans; the jeweller, taking his designs from the fruit and flowers around him. Later the men drive in the kine from the plain, the looms are folded up, the coppersmiths are silent, the elders gather in the gate; feasting and music are heard on every side; and late into the night the songs are sung from the Ramayana or Mahabharata." PaUas Athena was not only the goddess of thought; but also — because to the Athenians, thought was not thought until it had achieved for itself outward expression — she was the goddess of labor. On the AcropoHs was a precinct dedicated to "Athena the Worker," Athene ergane. Says the Odyssey: "Those that are the craftsmen of the people are welcome over all the wide earth." Jesus, a carpenter, seemed not to the common people irreverent when he announced himself to be the son of very God. "All these trust to their hands," sings Ecclesiasticus; "and everyone is wise in his work." In India and Japan the Commimity Soul was supposed to instigate the worker; as the Spirit of the Hive moves the bees to team work in storing the comb with flower juices. Lafcadio Hearn reports of Japan : " It is tolerably safe to assume that most if not aU of the guilds were at one time rehgiously organized; and that apprentices were adopted not only in a craft but in a cult The carpenter still dons a priestly costume at a certain stage of his work. The swordsmith worked in priestly garb, practised Shinto rites of purification, and ate only the food cooked with holy fire." In communaUstic India, Visvakarma was beheved to be the group Soul of the craftsmen of all past time. A master bricklayer, long pausing to decide in what form to build a certain monument, affirmed, "at that instant 246 THE FREE CITY Visvakarma inspii-ed him." An Eastern craftsman of the old school speaks with scorn of those who "draw after their own vain imagining," Visvakarma, "lord of the arts, the carpenter of the gods, on whose craft men sub- sist — a great and immortal god — they continually worship." Is not the following good orthodoxy: "One who knows amiss his craft, bringing misfortunes on the owner of the house, that builder will fall into hell and suffer — these sayings are in Mayamataya. What remedy can there be then, O builders? Builders who know their business well will become rajahs, lacking naught. Therefore let builders study Mayamataya." But commerciaUsm is entering India, breaking up the communaUstic form of industry and transforming the toilers into "hands" in a factory. Says Birdwood: "Of late these handicraftsmen, for the sake of whose work the whole world has been ceaselessly pouring its bulUon for three thousand years into India; and who, for all the marvellous tissue and embroidery they have wrought, have polluted no rivers, deformed no pleasing prospects, nor poisoned any air; whose skill and individuaUty the training of countless generations has developed to the highest perfection — these hereditary craftsmen are being everywhere gathered from their democratic village com- munities in hundreds and thousands, into colossal mills; at manufacturing piece goods, in the production of which they are no more intellectually and morally concerned than the grinder of a barrel organ in the tunes turned out from it." In England an Appeal, bearing such names as Morris, Burne-Jones, Millais, and Edwin Arnold, peti- tioned in behaK of India's communal form of productivity, and against the conmaercializing of that people: "At a time when these productions are getting to be daily more valued in Europe, these sources are being dried up in THE SOCIAL STATE 247 Asia; and goods which ought to be common in the market, are now becoming rare treasm-es for museums and the cabinets of rich men." The fight between the national state and the munic- ipal state is the fight between plutocracy and democracy. Characterizing the nationahst as material-minded, I re- fer to the type. Being under a national regime, we at present support that government; it is the only form of the social union we possess, and must therefore get the allegiance of civil-minded folk. In the War of 1861, Lincoln was right and Jefferson Davis was wrong. "Pre- serving the Union" was not the fundamental issue. The Constitution, made by an assembling of the people, can by an assembling of the people be unmade. A notary's parchment, it can be supplanted by a new and different parchment. Peaceable procedures are indicated. Davis, in resorting to arms, was abolishing civil society, and in- troducing violent society. We give adhesion to the national state, until we can get another. Municipality, in pleading for industrial democracy, is pleading truly for a return to Nature. Lily-fingered folk hate Nature, and in turn are hated by her. The de- generators at Versailles, when their life had become in- sufferably artificial, sought to escape the boredom by a playhouse rusticity. They built a Little Trianon in a comer of the park, donned a dairy maid's cap — ex- pensively millinered — and milked a cow that valets had groomed; whilst the court painter took sketches of the event. The Marie Antoinettes in every age need to be told that Nature will not receive extortioners. For one person to live without working, means that another per- son has worked without living. Democracy must have a lap big enough to take in tree toads, turtles, and creeping things in coral caves of the 248 THE FREE CITY sea. These are the cryptic springs within us that feed the pool of fancy, pool whose o'erbrimmings have flowed an irrigating stream into the thirsty ways of the world. In the artist, all fishes, grasses, and all quadrupeds have obtained an inheritance. An age of art is the test and ensign of an age of democracy; it signifies that man is not only fraternizing his fellow men, but is on neighborly terms with rock and sky and running brooks, cattle of the pasture, four-foots of the forest. St. Francis wrote a hynm to the sun and his "little brothers, the birds." Isaiah forcasted a time when man would be on friendly footing with beasts of the wild wood. The dog, once a wolf, testifies that Nature is tameable. The common man, forasmuch as he is a laborer, has to dwell with horses, cows, dirt of the fields. He takes on a something of odor from the subhuman world he works in. Nostrils that are offended by a team of horses, will be offended also by the teamster who drives that team. No fact of history is more demonstrated: A cleavage of the human family from the subhuman, is accompanied by a cleavage within the human family itself. When men get away from Nature, they seek also to get away from each other. Naturalism asks that the modem thinness of skin shall toughen its sensibilities. Under municipahty the function of the flesh, all the just dehghts of the body, walk in sim- hght unabashed. In order to morahze Nature, we must naturahze our moraHty. Queasiness toward the physical part of us makes not for true refinement. A Rabelaisian embrace, with all the cosmos standing by in wholesome participation, is not dangerous. But in perfimied al- coves, with boudoir languishings and a Madame Pom- padour luxuriousness, the elementary fire we have so massively inherited is blown into a conflagrating flame. The French Revolution was caused by the libertinism THE SOCIAL STATE 249 of the ruling class, product of the artificiality into which Versailles had fallen. The followers of Rousseau were seeking a return to Nature. They called each other "citizen" — citoyen — and they made an attempt to estabUsh Paris into a commune. That program for correcting the libertine trend was sound. Labor sweetens everything. Roses, the wine jug, and red-lipped kisses are not a peril to society; provided that the woman with her own hands grew the roses, and the man was himself the vineyard's cultivator. Moderns think to "get away from the physical." Preacher and teacher portray mankind as a creature half-emerged from the mire, and strugghng to get free his hinder parts. It is a false theology. Progress con- sists not in getting away from Nature but in taking Nature along with us. We have been advancing on too narrow a front. Nature is unintelligent will. But that does not support Schopenhauer's conclusion: "Annihi- late the Will." Nature is bUnd stress, aimless impulse, dumb striving. For that reason she needs our hand to guide her, our intellect to illumine her darkness. Great is her joy when her sightless eyes are impregnated with a germ and principle of hght. MunicipaUty is the cult of mutuahty between the two. Then Nature sings thorough-base to the thin squeakings of the intellect; and life intones a symphonic splendor. In people, this blend of intellect and emotion forms the attribute known as charm. Charm is neither the sharp thing known as wit, nor the clownish thing known as fun; but a union of the two into a tertium quid known as humor, trait of ripeness, and largitas. Every spot of Nature groans and travails together, waiting for a home-cherishing folk who shall settle there and dream that inert mass into melody and loveUness. 250 THE FREE CITY Attica found such a folk; the Lebanon range in Sj^a found such a folk; Latium found such a folk; the Valley of the Arno, where Florence uprears in shapeUness, found such a folk. So the rock became supple to their touch. Stones upbuilt themselves into carved work. Those Free Cities were naught less than a compact between the people and their landscape, a partnership in toil and song and glory. Their art was quarried out of their own chunk of space. Their melodies sang the songs resound- ing in the woods and waters around them; or set to music the sough of the wind through those treetops. "Not built but born," said Vasari of a lovely edifice. Nature is the master-craftsman. Great thoughts do not come by thinking. Release the Subconscious; then genii will do the task better than we. National patriotism is a diffused warmth, like wood heated to a tepid temperature. Civic patriotism is that same heat concentrated on a small spot of the wood, raising it now to the combustion point so that it bursts into flame. In the city commonwealths of history, the mind of man exhibits fire, not mere tepidity. City- worship penetrated a leaven under the landscape, lifting it airily into towers and porticoes and colonnades. The terrain was quickened to a vital glow. Every peak be- came topped with a temple. The granite hill effervesced into dome-bubbles of aerial lightness. In those Free Cities, the craftsman was seized by an unexpected unempowerment. The community was a navel cord connecting him with Nature; whereby a circulation of her blood was set up in his veins, Uke the umbilicus to a prenatal baby. The rich and the poor lived together. The whole city was hke a warm room. I know that more people have gone to hell by reason of loneUness, than through any other cause. In those com- THE SOCIAL STATE 251 monwealths a good-neighborliness prevailed. Democ- racy melted them into a communion. Men like Leonardo wrought in the workshop. Pottery, stone-cutting, smith- work, joinery led up into the finest branches in those arts. We behold Benvenuto, furnace bar in hand; bossing the metal, with his enamellers, and painting on the flux. The highest and the lowest had a bowing acquaintance. There was no factory district separated from the residential sections. The arts and the crafts were identical. The principle of community, taking the form of a sovereign political establishment, does mightily arouse the social affections. The municipal common- wealth is a spiritual chemistry for transforming limestone, mud-turtles, and the meditations of the heart, into a garden of God full of glory. CHAPTER XVin PERSONALITY AN individual is the fractional part of a human being. Ego-government is not Self-government. The Self is the community; the Swarm and the bees. In harping on the goodness of God, the modem world has lost sight of the greatness of God. The Most High does not think in terms of Tom, Dick, or Harry; but rather, in terms of Philadelphias, Galvestons, Pitts- burghs, Rochesters, and Sacramentos. An ego has some power of locomotion. So also have corpuscles in the blood stream. But the ego cannot exist when cut asunder from the community; as a corpuscle cannot exist when fished from the serum of which it is a part. Personality is life at its highest. K the ego were the seat of personality, individual man would be the supreme unit, the crown and apex of the cosmos. A flattering philosophy to the egomania that is in all of us, heritage from old jungle days. Nationalism, true to its pohcy of Laissez faire, encourages that creed. So we see the schools teaching a code of private advancement. The pulpits preach individual salvation. Proverbs and maxims of the street declare a cult of individual well-being: "Look out for Number One"; "Every man for himself"; "Self-preservation is nature's first law." "Do others, or they will do you." Our periodicals that cater to the self-satisfied classes carry photogravures of the egos that 252 PERSONALITY 253 have achieved mdividualistic success. Thus the sweet cohesion of society is hacked asunder. Solidarity is nuUified. No longer is the ratio between the State and the ego that of supreme and subordinate. But instead, a disjointed confusion. The people are a wandering sheep; unshepherded; like to be lost. Personality is not an attribute of individuals but of municipalities. The community is the primate, behind which the ego must retire in lowly submissiveness. So clearly did Aristotle perceive this, that he limited the title of statehood to the community. Criticising a cer- tain suggestion of another, looking to political regrouping, he says, "Such an arrangement would constitute a nation and not a state." "State" means. That which stands. It is status, as opposed to the chaos that results when other units are sovereign. It finds an echo in the German STADT, meaning City; and the Holland staat. In the science of society the Athenians were the masters of us all; and Aristotle here was the master Athenian. There- fore when he identifies municipahty and statehood, there is a reason. The community is the universal center. That center must stand. So we call it the "state," "that which is fixed"; the shaft of the great wheel, steadfast and swinging not, in order that all the other parts may swing freely. The only enemy we have is selfishness. How to veto the private spirit in every child of Adam and make him pubHc spirited, is the problem of problems. When that is solved, every other problem is easily untangled. When that is unsolved, the solution of every other problem still leaves life a bellowing hell. To greaten the individual with knowledge and power, unless there be a center out- side of himself, fixed and solid, to hold him to an orbit, is to work harm rather than good. Except the shaft of the 254 THE FREE CITY wheel be in a firm-set axle box, increase in the speed of the circumference of that wheel is a danger to the entire ap- paratus. As America is discovering — she who has Uberated a demon of individualism, which now rides rough over laws and precedents and equity. The politi- cal establishment that can hold supremacy over the ego, is the rightful center of the scheme of things; is entitled to the crown of personaHty. NationaHsm's incapacity to repress egoism is tragically attested. It summons the individual to give up his private life and identify himself in spiritual miion with a hundred millions of people, stretched over a continent and far islands of the sea. In every choice he makes, he is not to think first of himself but he is to think first of this immeasurable mass; must not consult first his own good but their good. He is to lose himself in the well- being of people, most of whom he never saw and never will see, many of them living on the opposite side of the globe from himself, speaking other languages than his own, surrounded by a different climate; peoples aUen to him in the thousand things that constitute intimacy. And what is the answer of the individual to this sum- mons? A polite refusal. Any other answer would be a psychological impossibiUty. Jesus himself, the most pubUc-minded man that ever walked our planet, en- larged himself to the dimensions of a state that was seventy-five miles long and twenty-five miles wide; and he repeatedly vetoed proposals to stretch himself beyond. Psychology supports him ia that veto. Had he consented to diffuse his thought and efforts over a thousand miles of geography, his life-strength would have spread itself so thinly as to lose aU tang and flavor. He knew that soul is measured, not alone by the area of dispersal, but also by the intensity of its energizings. An ounce of PERSONALITY 255 butter that tries to dress a wagon load of bread, ceases to be butter, so far as any effect on our organs of taste. Nationality demands of the people an impossible sacri- fice, and therefore wins them to no sacrifice. As if a voice on top of a precipice were to call to strugglers in the sea below, that they should step up that fifty-foot precipice. Those strugglers in the surf know that they cannot make a fifty-foot leap, and so make no effort whatsoever. Nationahsm, in its actual working, is uni- versal selfishness, tempered here and there by vague altruisms; even when the nation is in danger, the people have to be coerced to her defence, by conscription. Municipality makes not so exorbitant a demand on the individual. It asks him to lose himself in something larger, but not in something too large: the community, his own neighborhood; a group that is breathing the same air he breathes, drinking from the same fountain, heated by the same sunrise, chilled by the same frost, subject to the same pestilences, speaking the same dialect, exposed to the same dangers, rejoicing in the same achievements. Said Aristotle: "The size of the state must be no larger than can be taken in at a single glance." Public spirit is not a matter for the great crises of life. It is a daily and habitual preference of the common weal over private inclination. And that is morality. Also, when heated to the glowing point, it is religion. Self-identification with a national mass is impossible; because that mass is out of sight, and therefore out of mind. Self -identifica- tion with one's community is possible, because the com- munal mass is present to the five senses, which feed the fires of imagination and of action. "Self is so small, make me a part of something larger," is the cry of every normal heart. But that "something larger" must not be colossal. "With an instinctive knowl- 256 THE FREE CITY edge, man knows that too much of self-abnegation were as bad as too little. The sentimental gusher that asks a man to love the hundred million people with the same love wherewith one loves one's family and oneself, is listened to with good-natured tolerance, because those in the pew know that the preacher doesn't mean it. That pulpiteer, if his congregation should propose to put the program concretely into action, would recant his code of so extreme self-renunciation. "Charity begins at home," would be his quick modification of the message; and, "if any man provide not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith and is worse than an infidel." The municipahty is the larger Self. In asking of the ego a renunciation to that extent, it asks not that the man renounce self-interest. Self-interest is never renounced, never can be renounced. The sentimentalists who preach otherwise preach a delusion. Self-interest is the motor of life; ever has been, is now and ever will be. You cannot fight self-interest. Your arguments in fight- ing it will be appeals to self-interest. Man will give up a small gain for the prospect of a larger gain. But the gain has got to be there, really and palpably there. Senti- mentalism doesn't move the world; self-interest moves the world. The pietists in their world-forgetting "resig- nation" are not practising resignation. They are giving up the gold of this world, for harps and crowns in heaven made of that metal. The disinterested man is to that extent a defunct man. Annihilation is the only form of resignation. One can postpone gratification. One can choose a loftier gratification for a lower one. But no — hving — creature ever yet renounced gratification. Municipahty is based on that law of human nature. It does not oppose the self-regarding instinct. It uses PERSONALITY 257 that instinct. Recognizing that greed is always and everywhere the wheel-grease, it rebaptizes greed into pubUc spirit. It shows the man that community welfare is his own welfare; that community enrichment is self- enrichment. Enlarged to a community's diameter, it is no longer covetousness but altruism. Citizenship is the higher selfishness. But when selfishness is thus sub- limated, it ceases to be selfishness; as water at the boiling point takes on a totally new mode of functioning. In the interest of self-advantage, it asks the man to work for the commune's advantage; that he close up the private pump, and help dig the public water works. Gets him to seek his Hvelihood and his pleasures in co-operation with his fellow men, rather than in egoistic isolation. It de- clares that a self-surrender of this sort is the prelude to self-discovery. An appeal of this nature is responded to. That is why the community state is practicable, and is the only form of society that is practicable. It recog- nizes that man is a seK-interested animal, and ought to be. So it takes that self-interest, enlarges it to a com- munity's diameter, and thereby transforms the devil thing into a heavenly thing. Municipahty is the magician that puts perfect selfishness into the hat and pulls out perfect altruism. When a man has become enlarged to community size, he is altered from a biped wearing clothes into a human being. Thereupon the enlargement of his mind goes further, and eventuates in world consciousness. This explains why people in small states have the broadest vision. Attica, smallest of countries, produced philoso- phers and statesmen the reach of whose mentaHty was only bounded by the edge of the universe. Egoism is the boiling surf at the bottom of the fifty-foot precipice. The city republic is a shelf let into that precipice, low enough 258 THE FREE CITY to be reached by the strugglers in the water. Once they get onto that support, their feet being now on soHd rock, they can chmb unUmitedly. A nation is large, but is made up of small people. A Free City is small, and is made up of great people. In contrast to the animaHsm that prevails under other political forms, municipaUty breeds humanism. It is the supreme state, at the mid-distance where private ad- vantage and public advantage shake hands. Nor can one read in the seeds of time any future form of state that will supplant it. Every child coming into the world is an animal — "total depravity" was the veracious term our forefathers employed. To take this raw material that will be thrust upon us through all generations and transform it into world consciousness, will require that an intermediate stage be present. And that intermediate stage is the community. That upflow of crude animahsm from the depths of Nature will never cease. Therefore the municipal form of state will never be out of fashion; neither on Planet Earth, nor any other planet. Munici- pahty is the absolute pohtical establishment. No mat- ter how we multiply our universities, the primary school will always be needed; because babes will ever be with us, and will have to hsp the alphabet in order to go finally to Shakespeare and Bacon. They who climb high see far. The ego, once it has risen to the level of a conununity miad, surveys from that summit all the globe, becomes in very truth a world citizen. Civic patriotism is the loyalty within whose powerful flanks all other loyalties are germinated. Clearly stands it registered in the human story: In httle repubUcs man takes on a heightened world sense. There he is sheltered, but not cloistered. Since Father Adam until now, city commonwealths have eschewed militarism. PERSONALITY 259 So much so that it has become a proverb; and to be "in citizen's clothes" is to be contradistinguished from one in mihtary dress. It makes for a civilian state; a foreign poUcy dictated by minds that have been wrought to a liberal hospitaUty. The transforming of an ego into a citizen, is his reli- gious conversion. It redeems him from the lost and damned estate of original sin — perfect selfishness — into a world-serviceable human being. The municipal re- pubUc is a rehgious revival in perpetual session. That is why the Most High is wholly addicted to this polity of state. Municipahty means, The Giving of Gifts. It comes from the Latin word munis, "service" (seen also in the word "munificent"); and from capio, "to take." Municipal means, "Taking up your service," "doing your duty." And that was the historical sense of the word. The organization thus of social mindedness into a governmental fabric, with all the powers of the State to urge and reinforce it — do you account that merely a secular thing? The municipal republic is a temple, and her civic transactions are a holy worship. The town hall is the altar in that temple; workshops intone the thunder- ous anthem; each home is a stained glass window in that temple; all of the people are the congregation; the bible they study is the book called Daily Events; and the Spirit of Fellowship is the preacher. Children in that churchly state are formally inducted into citizenship; it is their confirmation, their new birth, and a work of grace. City-worship is the religion that will make skepticism ridiculous. This fusing of ego-beings into a community Being, creates no new energy, but it creates a new type of energy. The rays of the sun, beating on a sheet of paper, merely warm it. Put a focussing lens betwixt the sun and that 260 THE FREE CITY paper, the rays of the sun now are not different chemically from what they were before; but see, they lift the tem- perature to the burning point, and the paper bursts into flame. When human beings concentrate into a free and sovereign community, a force has entered the world that was not there before; and whose presence spells the dif- ference between savagery and civilization. We are meant to be petals of a flower. Tear the petals severally from the communal organism, the bulk is still the same. Count them, the number is the same. Weigh the botani- cal debris, the heft is the same. But those petals, dis- membered and Uttering the ground — are they the same as when incorporated into an organic whole and rooted in the earth? When formed into a flower, petals give off a perfume to sweeten the air on every side. But, torn from each other and rotting, they send forth a stench. "PersonaUty" derives from per, meaning "through," and "soNARE," "to sound or speak"; as in "sonorous," and "resonance." In the Roman theatricals the actor often wore a wooden mask that gave his voice carrying power. This mask was known as persona, "the thing he sounded through," "his medium of communica- tion with the world." Individuals fuse to form a municipality; municipali- ties federate to form a world. That is the etei;nal and God-given jurisprudence. In it, the individual does not operate directly upon the outside world, but through the medium of the state, by the Department of Foreign Re- lations. The ego is a water spring and world altruism is the ocean. To ask that spring to reach the ocean by a channel of its own, is to ask impossibility; any such at- tempt by the multitude of springs, results in a swamp. MunicipaUty, on the other hand, gathers the tiny stream- lets into a river; and now, confluent, they reach the ocean. PERSONALITY 261 The difference between the swamp and the river, is the difference between egoism and municipaUsm, The Free City is personaUty; it is "the thing we sound through," if we sound at all. In these times, with the disappearance of city commonwealths and their sparkling vivacities, personaUty is vanishing. What strength of personality still appears is a left-over; and, like second or third steepings of tea, gets weaker. Municipality is the sounding board. It collects many ego voices into a giant Voice, whose accent carries to the ends of the earth. That united Voice thereupon is heard by each individual whose whisperings contributed to form it. So that he also learns to speak forth orotundly; is able, if need be, to utter his speech even in contradiction of that giant Voice. Thus great speakers and writers have always been formed. Said Aristotle: "The state is by nature clearly prior to the family and to the individual, since the whole is of necessity prior to the part." It is a chimera held by many, that a municipaUty is the sum of the individuals that compose it. Such a con- glomerate would not be a commune but a caterwauling. Personality is Soul. Soul is a social thing. Tell the average man that he is not a soul, but is a fragment of a Communal Soul in this or previous ages, he will laugh you to scorn. Egotistocrat that he is, he will assure you that he is an entity complete in himself; a unit; and that, by combination of these units, society is formed. So long as modernity is given over to that strong delusion, it will be the dislocated spectacle it now presents, a disarray of jangHng egos; disjecta membra. The Cubists and "Queerists," pictoriahzing the human figure in the hkeness of a scrapheap of mechanical debris, are sub- consciously picturing the actual nowaday fact. The in- falUbihty of the collective man, was the aforetime and 262 THE FREE CITY municipal idea. The infallibility of each and every man, is modernity's amendment. It is producing the disor- ganization and indiscipline we behold. The collective Will is will-power. But, when the ego does the willing, it is wiKukiess. Soul, or personality, is a collective entity. A solitary individual could not have a soul; could not have even a being. Thoreau and Robinson Crusoe, we saw, owed their existence to the principle of association. The first man who emerged from the ape family was not so far removed but that he could still associate with those four- footed folk, and did; he intermarried with those an- thropoid kinsmen. We have got to stop thinking in terms of individuals and begin to think in terms of communities. Modern life has gone off into paltriness because we are everlast- ingly thinking of our private selves — "my" troubles, "my" pleasures, "my" plans, "my" enemies, "my" beautifulness, "my" salvation. By that lopsidedness, life has become warped away from symmetry and grace. These meums and tuums must give way to an overarch- ing suuM. We must come forth out of that ego swamp, onto the terra firma of community consciousness. We must talk of the municipahty: "her" troubles, "her" pleasures, "her" plans, "her" enemies, "her" beautiful- ness, "her" salvation. In the city commonwealth, people sell their lookingglass and subscribe for the Municipal Record. Except in the conmaunity, man has no existence, unus HOMO, NULLUS HOMO. Isolation is another word for lunacy; a relapse to the fear-mindedness and fight- mindedness of jungle days; forth from which, fellowship delivered us. It is possible for a man to disengage him- self from the social network; and he is taken to the crazy PERSONALITY 263 house the next morning. Sanity and sociability are convertible terms. Visit a Imiatic asylum, you will see one keeper presiding over fifty inmates. "But is it not dangerous?" exclaims the visitor; "those fifty might form a common cause and overpower the keeper." Insane people cannot form a common cause. When they have recovered that capacity, they are cured, are no longer in need of a keeper. In the contrary direction, prisoners doomed to soUtary confinement lose their reason. Exiles in Siberia, a woodsman cut off ia his cabin by the snows, a traveller lost and soUtary, have much ado to keep from going mad. The true Self is the community. All consciousness is social consciousness. Because psychologists are still for the most part back in the ego philosophy, they have been unable to explain consciousness. Coming into the world as a biped on the vegetable plane, we do not in our few years of life develop so wonderful a thing as consciousness. We establish contact with the body of consciousness al- ready developed. Consciousness is the highest form of energy. It is a blending, through slow consecutive gene- rations, of many Uttle knowings into a united and mighty knowing, which now knows that it knows. This becomes a permanent Spiritual Mass. Each individual born thereafter who opens himself thereunto, is made free to the whole of it; as an estuary of the ocean partakes of the freshening inflow of the tides; so that, for all its diminutive size, its waters are of the same quaHty as the water of the ocean. This was the truth towards which Calvin was driving. But that other, the Arminian theol- ogy, emphasizing the individual, grew up later when society was granulating into particles. Take a child, cut him off from all contact with the Jehovah idea be- queathed to us by the Commonwealth of Israel; cut him 264 THE FREE CITY off from all contact with the law heritage bequeathed to us by Rome; cut him off from all contact with the artistic and intellectual traditions bequeathed to us by Athens; and cut him off from all contact with the civil formations engendered in om* own day by these massive inheritances — how much of a mental life would that child develop in threescore years and ten? Calvin was right: The individual is helpless. All that is of worth in us is the doing of Another than we. Fellowship is the creator of the heavens and the earth. PoUtical science is able to explain the origin of the uni- verse, which quest the philosophers have abandoned as hopeless. How to get something out of an original noth- ing, has been their difficulty; so that they frankly ac- knowledge themselves non-plussed. That difficulty has arisen from a false conception of what constitutes "noth- ingness." The popular mind regards space as an empti- ness amidst which our universe floats, a universe of a given quantity that cannot be added to or subtracted from. There is no such condition anywhere as "nothingness." That which seems to be an area of "nothingness" is a posture of two equal forces in head-on colhsion. So long as they remain in that posture they cancel each other. Two locomotives, of the same horsepower and pushing against each other, would present to an onlooker the ap- pearance of perfect rest; from the movementless scene he would infer that the locomotives were dead. On the contrary, they are interiorly throbbing with power; but, neutraUzing each other, the force hberated is zero. Now let the locomotives be worked in cooperation instead of in mutual thwarting, straightway the zero is changed into a mighty force. That zero horsepower gave way to a thousand horsepower, not by creating something out PERSONALITY 265 of nothing, but by changing a status of opposition into one of cooperation. It is the calculus, higher than arithmetic, whereby cyphers can be added and form integers. Fellowship is the creator of the universe, not by gen- erating matter but by releasing it. A negative is com- posed of two positives that are fighting each other to a standstill. Let a peacemaker arrive and get them into teamwork, the nought now is a figure 2. There is no such thing as absolute nothingness or noughtness. What seems so is a locking of horns by two equal and self-can- celhng forces. When amity replaces the horn-pushings, energy is released; but no new energy was created. That which seems creation is an unlocking. Thus the cosmic process ia at bottom an affair of ethics. Perfect hatred is perfect nullity — two powers in hostile strife and reducing their efficiency to zero. Creation is a business of changing opposition into cooperation. Fellowship is the alpha and the omega. An atomic monad of fellowship was the First Cause; a commence- ment so infinitesimal that micro-chemists shall never plumb to that depth and isolate that phosphoric atom of Ught; as the space-field of micro-chemistry contracts, the time-unit expands; so that an eternity would be re- quired to travel back to that original scintilla. As in- finitesimal fellowship was the originator of this eternity we inhabit, so at the opposite terminus, universal fel- lowship is the goal ahead of us. Nothing save a moral explanation of the universe will satisfy the facts. Love is the author of life. God is the beginning and the end, Prime Mover at the core of being. The space surrounding our imiverse is not an expanse of emptiness. It is a sea of frozen energy; an infinite bed of forces locked in mutual strife; an intertangled 266 THE FREE CITY snarl of contentions, whereby their being is reduced to zero — an Arctic waste of motionless quiet. Our uni- verse is an ice-breaker plowing through that frozen sea; Uberatuig fields of billowing waters; forever annexing provinces; forever adding a new circumference to the cosmos. Scientists have elaborated a doctrine known as the conservation of energy. It affirms that the sum total of energy now in existence can never be annihilated; and so far, it is true. But that doctrine cannot be stretched to forbid additions to the present stock of en- ergy. The universe is growing; and will continue to grow, out of the frozen reaches of dormancy roimd about — a vastitude without end, expanding forever and for- ever the frontiers of being. The only thing that could stop the universe from getting larger and annihilate the present universe, would be an increase of the principle of hate over the principle of fellowship. But that is im- possible. Hatred diminishes being, and therefore makes for weakness. Fellowship unlocks the frozen power, and so makes for strength. Love will always bear away the victory. Defeat and its weepings may endure for a night, but triumph cometh in the morning. With God it is always: Heads, I win; tails, I don't lose. The Municipal Movement, setting in hke a tidal heave wherever community consciousness is arising, is a re- suscitation of the principle of love to make stand against the uncivilizing principle of hate and greed and bloodi- ness. It is Personality — whose other name is God — breaking forth Uke dawn upon a sick and bitter night. God is fellowship; they that dwell in fellowship dwell in God and God dwelleth in them. He annoimces: "Where two or three are gathered together, there am I in the midst." Egoism is atheism. Lovers are not atheists. How skeptical soever he may have been, let a man fall PERSONALITY 267 in love, his unbelievings drop from him like a cast-off garment. Municipality is the Absolute; it is fellowship at its highest power. It is Love taking on a form and texture of palpabihty. God is weary of being disem- bodied. The Free City is God becoming a person. A self-governing community is not merely an upholstery to the reUgious life. It is the soul and body of the reli- gious life. City-worship gave religion to the world; and it alone can preserve religion in the world. An energetic beHef in the personahty of God has always been a singu- larity of city states. Personality is a sense of identity. It is the announce- ment, "I am I. " Self-affirmation is a colossal enterprise, and can be compassed only by a colossal entity, the State; which alone is of sufficient bulk to dominate the Space-field, and of unruptured continuity so as to sail the Time-flow unquailed by that turbulent stream. To say "I am I," requires something of massiveness, which is collectivity; and it requires something that shall have persistence, which is continuity. Collectiv- ity and continuity, we saw, are attributes only of small states. Biologically, the ego philosophies are unsound. The water pipe through the street is as much a part and parcel of a man as his food pipe. Water that has entered the stomach is no more truly inside of the man than when it was in the city main. Our bodies are a folding together of a flat disc, leaving a tubular space — the alimentary canal — through the middle of us. Every board of health is proof that we cannot tell where the jurisdiction of the plumber leaves off and that of the doctor begins. In sajdng which, I am not trying to lower the physician to the status of a plumber. I am Ufting the plumber to the professional dignity we accord the physician. 268 THE FREE CITY The city is a personality. To keep her water main sound and clean, is quite as worthy a profession as to keep the alimentary canal sound and clean. The Free City is a corporate being, a moral person, a thinking and feeling entity. Sovereignty is the core and cause of personality. A city cannot truly say "I am I," except there has first been a declaration of municipal in- dependence. Without self-ownership there can be no sense of identity. From municipal seK-assertion, mighty are the sequences that flow. War power, coinage, and foreign relations are the excitors, awakening the inhabiters of a city to consciousness. A Free City is a popular uni- versity; a school of statesmanship into which everybody, even to hod carriers and the roustabout, are matriculated. So the cold materials of the mind are raised to the melt- ing point, are fused into a unison Will. Heart beats so close to heart that they get into rhythmic tempo, form as it were a gigantic Heart whose pulsations ebb and flow with the tides that throb in the arteries of The Eternal. Sovereignty gives to the city a healthy segregation, that she may collect her energies and grow into a coherent organism. It is the girdle that dresses her into a trim and athletic entity. Bereft of self-ownership, a city is like a corpulent abdomen with no belt to hold up the coUops of fat. Frontiers are as the barrel to a cannon; a whole- some constriction that compacts the power, which other- wise would have diffused itself in thin air. Personality requires to be circumscribed. A certain stringency and sequestration are essential. Such a commonwealth re- joices in the sp)ectacle of other personahties sharing with it the map of the globe. Treaties between high contract- ing powers form the intercourse of personahty with per- sonaUty, whereby each is reinforced in self-respect by the respect it pays to the other. PERSONALITY 269 Municipality is holiness — wholeness, a sense of totality. It is an esprit de corps operating on the subconscious- ness of the people so that teamwork becomes ingrained; men thereby get the tincture of it before they are born, and restrain themselves within their appointed orbits. Nationalism can never nose-ring the egoisms that rage bull-headedly through all thoroughfares. Behold the unbridled voracities it is letting loose; a scene going ever more disorderly, ever more intractable. In a civic commonwealth, men give a devoted service. A Free City controls her people, not by dragoons, but by appointing the people to control themselves. It is the reUgious — rule-from-within — method, as opposed to the machine guns and bayonets of national guards. Holiness is the rapture of totahty, the ecstasy of incor- poration into the great and true Self; separatisms swal- lowed up in a common affection, egos concurring in a single-hearted aim. Like a town after dark, ten thousand lights in one blended halo. Holiness puts a hook in the inward parts, grapples men by the heartstrings. Beyond calculation are the spiritualities implicit in self-government. By self-government the ages are il- lumined. And the stars in their courses write it on the blackboard of the night. That is why genius spurts up in municipal eras. The Free City is an alembic whose contents are not mixed physically but chemically; a melting heat of good-comradeship, in whose hberal and intense communion, life is vivified to an astounding sen- sitivity. In its best estate, in those historic instances where it has more nearly come to its perfect work, munic- ipality is holiness; a spiritual and unfelt conscription. A concert without a baton. So it enlarges the scrawny biped into cosmic consciousness. History says so: the commune is a human mass magnetically swayed to one 270 THE FREE CITY pole. It is not an overstatement to afl&rm that munic- ipality is the universal formula, extending temporally to the dawn of civil dominion, and spatially to the outposts of being. It is the deification of the State. For it is the principle by which atom draws to atom, star to star, and man to his fellow man. CHAPTER XIX THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE NO ego shall inherit eternal life. Municipality is the Soul, of which we are parts; there, there is the seat of everlastingness. The Christian Church is an organization for relating present-day in- dividuals to the Soul of the Jerusalem Commonwealth; assuring them that as they abide in that Soul as branches in the vine, they will live forever. This survival from that Palestinian fund of nobleness has played an incalcu- lable part in perpetuating civil arts and a social mind. But the human species cannot Uve constantly on past per- formances. What measures of civiUzation we enjoy are tides from the Ocean of public consciousness, Ocean that has been filled full by the municipal commonwealths of history. But the d6bris of centuries little bit by bit clogs the inlet that connects modem minds with that Universal Mind; so that the freshening sweep of its waters into us is progressively diminishing. We have got to develop civic wellsprinas of our own, whose powerful current shall scour out th*" silted-up channel. Only by pouring an original flow ^"to that Ocean can we keep ourselves con- fluent with that invisible Main of waters. That Sea connects us with the high and holy One who inhabits eternity. Many Christians are troubled because the Old Testa- ment makes so Uttle of "personal immortality"; by which 271 272 THE FREE CITY they mean, Individual immortality. The Israelites felt the passion of eternity. They beUeved in the persistence of life after death; but it was the persistence of the social life. Ego-immortality would have seemed to them a shrunken and truncated thing. Modernistic communi- cations with the spirit world impart no thrill to the heart of us, quicken no impulse to energetic deeds; their talk is so paltry. Those ego-ghosts must apparently Uve a mediocre existence — wandering wraiths, clothed in bore- dom. If immortahty be thus anemic, it is a question whether the game is worth the candle. The Israelites made immortahty credible by making it desirable. The individual was swallowed up in the municipal spirit, and in that civic immortahty he found the continuance of his own life. Ego-salvation, so far from being a mark of advanced culture, is the sign of decadence. Self-idolatry is a pathologic symptom, tells of social breakdown. The Bible folk had the instinct of collectiv- ity. That is why they were great. Exalting the com- munity, they sought by every possible device to beat down the ego and keep him in his proper place of sub- serviency. "When I consider the heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast or- dained, what is man?" The individual! He is the flower of a sunmier's fortnight, which to-day is, and to- morrow is cast into the oven. He is a vapor; a brief visibihty; then reabsorbed in the mass from which he issued. Man is a grass. In the morning he flourisheth and groweth up; in the evening he is cut down and withereth. The Psahns are never tired, as Aristotle is never tired, of declaring that Municipahty is the sov- ereign: the great and august Jehovah Presence, "the root and ofiFspring of David." "We all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities like the wind have taken us away. THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE 273 We are the clay, and thou our potter; and we aU are the work of thy hands." Immortality was a by-product; the puny pond opening itself onto the Ocean in order to make the Ocean larger; and finding to its surprise that in doing so it had become possessed of the Ocean's amphtude. Nor was the teaching of Jesus different from that of his Old Testament ancestry. He promised to his fol- lowers everlastingness in the Kingdom of God. But that was a municipal kingdom: the Jerusalem state transfigm-ed into a paradise terrestrial. Apocaljrpse, the truest pictorial presentation of New Testament immor- taUty, is Jerusalem new-modeled; "the camp of the saints, the beloved city." "These are they which have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." To be cut off from the civic fellowship was eternal death: "God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city." "Ye are come unto Mount Zion, and imto the city of the hving God, the heavenly Jerusalem." Palestine had a Psychical Research Society. EUjah, Amos, Isaiah and Jeremiah were successively presidents of it. The prophets did exactly in their day what the psychical searchers seek to do for modernity: to bring home to the people a realization of the departed past, as a continuing factor in the life of the present: "Saith the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob." Jehovah was their philosophy of history. The difference between the Hterary style of the prophets and the Uterary style of modern communications from the spirit realm, affords a criterion for comparing the worth of municipalism and individuahsm. The Isaiah reveahngs are Uterature. They are touched with grandeur, because they uttered "the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings." 274 THE FREE CITY Perhaps some may demur at this literary test of truth and falsity. I answer, the literary form and the thought- content have a blood kinship. Truth and beauty are one. Triviality of expression betrays falsity of theme. Expression power is in exact ratio to brain power. Al- ways, beauty of language accompanies truthfulness of vision. A shallow tongue means shallow thinking. Form and substance are twins; to the extent that a pic- ture is worth while, it will get unto itself a splendid frame. As the words of Isaiah and Jeremiah and Jesus attest, the social Soul voices itself in language that goes ringing down the ages, vehicle of wisdom and of power and of beauty. The individual soul, speaking from out the past, voices itself in back-door gossip. Clear is the pragmatic test. The worth of immortaUty is not what it does for us after death, but what it does for us in the here and now. If civic immortaUty adds wisdom and power and beauty to the hterature of the world, and if ego immortal- ity adds nothing but small talk, then the former is true and the latter is untrue. In municipal eras, man seeks immortality through artistic production. Said Keats: A thing of beauty is a joy forever. It is a joy forever, precisely because a thing of beauty is built to last forever. Any work of man's hand, wrought with a view to unending duration, is beautiful. Art is always sub specie .eternitatis. The artist is never an ego. He has consciousness of himself only as a part of Something larger. That Something is the communal Self; which transcends the generation that now is; for it had a being in old Yesterday and will be when To-day 1ms dissolved into far off Tomorrow. He who creates in the atmosphere and aureole of this Im- mortal Being, etemaUzes himself and his output. In contrast with the ego-worker who is content if, by hook THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE 275 or by crook, he can make his product hold together his lifetime, the artist creates to an eternal standard. Foul work is that which is wrought to last temporarily. Beau- tiful work is that which is wrought to last through long durations. The social Soul creates art, because it pro- duces a timeless commodity, something fashioned unto everlasting ideals. The private soul produces artifice, because it works on the stop-gap principle. Himself a drop of dew, the distillation of a transient hour, this momentary fellow produces naught but a temporahty; something provisional and makeshift. Architecture is that which is built for eternity. It is an aspiration towards immortahty of habitat. This principle of everlastingness — an abode stretching be- yond one's httle lifetime — is what gives to architecture its distinction. A building that is expected to come down within the generation of the man who built it, is not archi- tecture, nor can be; conceal and cover up as he may, a something of flimsiness will appear in the structure and will cry aloud to the passers-by. Nationalists build cheaply; because day after tomorrow we probably will move. When most truly itself, it puts upon the work of man's hand the damnatory imprint of haste, flippancy, impermanence; no edifice designed to gather atmosphere through generations of generations, beautiful and haunt- ing in its veil of reminiscence. The metalUc towers of Manhattan, that so painstakingly pretend to be eternal stone, dart forth a suggestion of transitoriness. And that suggestion is the truth. Already, with the paint scarce set, they are beginning to come down; to make way for new and higher ones that shall outpoint each its neighbor — a forest of individuahsms. New York is a platoon of bayonets; stiletto architecture, daggers that stab the sky 276 THE FREE CITY An ego age cannot produce architecture. Therefore it cannot produce art of any kind. Architecture is the commune of the arts, synthesis of the crafts. In com- parison with the structures reared by an age Uke the Gothic, a city under modern materiaUsm is a lath-and- plaster thing; not a city but the sketch of a city. As though builders, setting out to construct a cathedral, had erected an elaborate scaffolding, and then had for- gotten to build the cathedral. Nationalists are migra- tory; they cannot abide frontiers that shall hem them in and that shall discipline the nomadism in their blood. And our manner of building shows it. The city common- wealth is patterned on another principle. It is a ded- icated company of people owning a spot of earth in common, and there uprearing their everlasting habita- tion. A Free City gives the impression of being a fixture. The attribute of all architecture is durabihty; a struc- ture based on everlasting foundations, and built to sur- vive the ravage of the years. Moderns scratch their heads over the "mystery of style." Style is spaciousness of treatment, an eleva- tion of manner bestowed by occult connections with the past and the future. Style is the trade mark of Im- mortals. It stamps that which is worked to an ever- lastingness of purpose. A Free City forms a part of the landscape. From old Nature its patterns are drawn, and the pulse of the workmen beat to a vision beyond their children's children. The workmanship of a soul thus ennobled has style. His daily product is his anti- dote against oblivion. So his spirit takes on an astro- nomic duration. His hands build an imperishability. To do without eternity means instanter a loss of tone. For grandem*, the heart in us forever and ever is yearn- ing. Grandeur is the spirit of municipahty, as con- THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE 277 trasted with the flightiness and paltriness of an ego epoch. The days of our Hfe are threescore years and ten. But thou, Soul of the civic fellowship, abideth forever. A thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God. They who are caught up into that Self exhibit the grand man- ner. Their voices become the organ of that greater Voice, so that their intonations acquire a timbre and res- onance of majesty. No longer ephemera upflashing fitfully into life, to be as fitfully destroyed, city-worship- ers are touched imto a temper of timelessness. In the Ancient of Days their roots are sunk, and unto ages of ages their line goes forth. This feeUng of transcendency over the fugitive To-day, gets into the marrow of the man. Such a one irradiates serenity, alongside of which the fret and pantings of temporal folk suggest the incon- sequential busyness of a cage of monkeys. The Romans were characterized by "the grand manner." The fact has been accepted without inquiry; as though the climate of Rome, or minerals in their drinking water, wrought the inhabitants necessarily unto a certain large- ness of demeanor to which other folk could not be expected to aspire. Roman grandeur was due to their civic mysticism. Patria — the Fathers — that was Rome's secret of greatness. In the continuity of life across the centuries, the mind of the Roman bathed it- self as in a mystic flood. The ego atomies, losing them- selves in this greater Mass, felt within them the power of an endless life. It got into their manner of speech, into the glance of the eye, the bearing of the torso, the steppings of their feet. We have a word that derives from this ennoblement imparted by the civic rehgion: 278 THE FREE CITY "stateliness." Her men were stately; a consciousness of the State informed all of their thinkings and doings. Rome as a city repubUc was permitted to strain all the nerves of all her people. Roman soldiers campaigned cheerfully and died unrepiningly: dulce et decorum EST, PRO PATRiA MORI. Cicero promised heaven to all true patriots. The corona civica was naught but a garland of oak leaves. But a Roman coveted it beyond thou- sands of gold and silver. For was it not the pass-key unto everlasting life? Offspring of a great city, they felt themselves born to greatness. Even when their message to the world had degenerated into naked power, Roman magistrates dehvered the message with grandiloquence. It contributed no little to the Empire's longevity. The statehness of praetors and proconsuls at least gilded the chains wherewith the peoples were fettered. Rome did not let her dead die. "Pious ^neas" was Virgil's favorite term for that reputed patriarch of their city; "pious" meaning, one who is reverential towards his father. In her porous tufa rock, Rome quarried catacombs; crypts and tortuous galleries, mile upon mile. That the presence of the necropohs might be the more in- sistent, she located the catacombs along the consular roads radiating from Rome; with tombs, hke those on the Appian Way. In the Virgin Temple the sacred fire tended by the Vestals symbolized this continuity of the genera- tions; as fire communicates from one fagot to another its living flame, roma diva was the Fire-Soul enkindUng the generations. They felt that in some mysterious way the destiny of their city hung upon the preservation of this flame inherited from the past. That fire must never be permitted to go out — continuity with the past, was with them a reUgious mandate. ReUgion is re-ligeo, "that which binds back." Veneration of the Fathers was THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE 279 the firmament of Rome's statecraft and worship. For with the ancients is wisdom, and in length of days is understanding. Which dogma had a repercussion in the realm of eu- genics. The child who reveres his father will seek in turn to be revered by his children. City-worship has three ingredients: Nature-worship, ancestor worship, and eugenics. Combine the triad in a civic ritual intoned by the multitude, — a thousand voiced exultation in the hour of triumph, in depression a litany of a m5a-iad wail- ings — and you have that which is the writer of bibles, law-giver, spring of beauty, strengthener of all our mortal doings. In a land where graves go unremembered, cradles are untended. MunicipaUty is the communion of Yesterday with Tomorrow, through the medium of a joyful and magnificent To-day. "Rome was not built in a day." A truer phrasing would be, Rome was not built for a day. They felt that the past, the present and the yet unborn constitute a unity. The grandeur of that vision organized itself into the work of their hands. They built as Nature built. They implicated themselves with the cosmos. In Rome there is an arched sewer still in use, that was constructed in King Tarquin's day, nearly three thousand years ago. The Romans built religiously. Therefore they built architecturally. Religion has always been the patron of architecture. "Whatsoever . is built irreligiously is built shabbily, faddishly, flimsily. Almost to an equal extent with the Romans, the Greeks had this feeling for and intimacy with the past. Their custom was to place the family tomb not far from the door of the house; "in order," as Euripides explained, "that the sons in entering and leaving their dwelling might always meet their fathers and might address them 280 THE FREE CITY an invocation." "Sacred Fatherland" was the Athenian' phrase for their country. Their term for the act of honor- ing the dead was "to patriotize." The Fathers had left behind them, hymns and festivals and laws and Nature- lore. The living regarded this mass of civic tradition as their patrimony. "These stories are life-giving mys- teries," said iEschylus. Athens had her pyreteneura, where the sacred fire always burned. It was their civic altar. Around that municipal hearthstone their souls gathered, and were comforted. There is a phrase common in the Bible: "The Lord of hosts." Scriptural scholars are puzzled to interpret it. If we wiU remember that the Bible is the textbook of civic religion, the words become clear. "The hosts" were the invisible multitude that the Athenians saw in that mystic processional to Eleusis: the entire company of the departed; rallying around their Lord as a troop around their chieftain. "Buried with his fathers" — that is the civic immortahty. Israel "called his son Joseph and said unto him: 'Bury me not in Egypt; but I will He with my fathers. Carry me, and bury me in their burying place.' " In that devotion to patria, is the lineal continuity that cUmbs unto civihzation's immortal flower- ing. It transforms the commune into a granary where the treasures of yesterday are garnered; a nest, where young tomorrow is nourished. Like buried cities, tier upon tier uprising, their life was steeped in an immemo- rial tradition. By the civic communion, their days were overhung with a cloud of witnesses; the quick and the dead in statesmanly consultation. A sense of history is the surest mark of culture. City-worshipers are swayed into reverence and discipleship. They behold the solemn dynasties, link upon hnk conjoining; are themselves a link therein. It begets in the ganglia an instinct of his- THE LAND OF EVERLASTING LIFE 281 toricity. That is why those Bible worthies were so as- sured and spacious in their behavior. Partnership with the past and the future made them more than hfe size. In their high blood's majesty they spoke and wrote and acted with nobihty of expression. The citizenly soul shall abide forever. Jesus abolished death and brought life and immortality to light, because he was the civic Christ, municipality's evangel and messiah. He taught: To live and to die for The Commonwealth is everlasting life. The commune alone is invested with immortal duration; to the extent that our httle self is coextensive with that larger Self, we partake of that durabiUty. A Free City is built into the constitution of the imiverse. It has an absolute existence; is con- tinuous with the unique immense Being at the core of the cosmos; of Whom a commune is the incarnation, and Whose indefatigable urge is the fire that makes for free- dom. The perishing of self-love in civic dedication is the death that destroys death. For in that moment one shares the immensity and duration of The Eternal. He becomes naturahzed in the City of God, to pass down immortal corridors; central to all fields of time and space; no longer an alien from the Commonwealth but a citizen, through roUing ages without end. "Their soul bound in the bundle of life," describes a folk immune to coffins and graveyards and all the grim corruptibiUties. civitas DEI I MunicipaUty is fellowship. And the years of fel- lowship are throughout all generations; a faith sure and steadfast. Acolytes of that religion shall never taste of death. Inhabiters are they of a city which hath founda- tions, whose buUder and maker is God. CHAPTER XX A COSMIC COURTSHIP COMMON speech personifies a city as a "She." There is a valid reason. The Free City is the natural form of state — Natural in the Hteral sense of the word. Nature is a woman. We call her The Great Mother, on whose hberal bosom we are borne, and without whose nourishing milk our Uves were not worth a fortnight's purchase. The primal and all-condi- tioning attribute of a city commonwealth, we have seen, is kinship with the terrain of Nature it rests upon. Not only is Nature a woman. Also, woman is Nature. Woman is closer to that source and groundtackle of all being, than is man. Man has cUmbed to an intellectual- ity beyond what woman has attained to. But that gain has been at the expense of his holdfast in the aboriginal roots of life, the cosmic deeps where all our being is re- plenished. Man thinks, but woman knows. Her in- stincts are ofttimes surer than his labored logic. Man thinks; woman feels. In him, thought takes the place of heart-power. In her, the heart has grown rich at the expense of the head. I am not saying that either is superior. Man and woman are different; always have been, always will be. Man is man, woman is woman; never the twain shall meet. Aye, the diversity will be- come greater. Because evolution is a progress from sameness into an ever more rich and abundant diversity. 282 A COSMIC COURTSHIP 283 Woman is closer to Nature than is man, because of her maternal function. Each individual, as we have seen, sums up in his career the biography of the universe. A child at the moment of birth is a vegetable; a lovely sun- flower waving his arms and legs Uke petals of a blossom, at the end of the stem that fastens him to his earth. Cut loose from that stem, delivered from a merely passive botanical existence, he becomes successively a frog, a monkey, a cave man; and at about the age of three he graduates into the savage and barbarian stages in the world's history. A child of five is an excellent specimen, in point of emotional development, of a pagan — that world peopled with fauns and sprites, imps and naiads and dryads, sylvans and satyrs; which, could he retain and add thereto the disciplined mind of maturity, would make him a genius, of the school of iEschylus and Sophocles. The mother stays with the lad through all that child- hood cHmb. In her arms, almost, she takes him up to the age of eight or ten. By which time of his graduation from her care, another child has usually appeared. Whereupon she goes back and repeats the process. Be- cause of this, her soul has remained in those primitive bournes, while man's soul has gone on into intellectualism. Man has advanced further, but on a narrow front. Woman has not advanced so far, but she has taken all Nature up with her as far as she has gone. Man is the scout of the army, pushing ahead with a small force to reconnoiter. Woman has come behind leading the main army, whose mightier mass has necessitated a slower pace. She brings with her not only the children of the human species. She comes, leading also in her many- sided soul the flowers, birds in spring, laughter of water- falls, protean cloud-shapes, pomp of sunsets, and thunder- 284 THE FREE CITY storms driving down the valley. Woman is Natm-e in human form. The tides of her being are cognate to the rhythm of the moon. Man is mental. Woman is ele- mental. Her spirit is attuned to notes of music where man's ear is not at home. Watch a mother when she has an idle moment and is playing with her infant child. The lad beheves in fames; so does the mother. And they walk in a wonder-world together. Every true woman is at heart a pagan; that is to say, her attitude toward Nature is the child attitude. She puts faith in signs and tokens; consults the fortune teller, as Saul of old time consulted the gypsy at Endor. She is closer than man to the fairylands of hfe. Superficial moderns hold in derision this "superstitiousness" of womankind. But without that heart of natural behef, she could not be a companion to her child. Who then would keep company with these newcomers and guide them sympathetically up through childhood's cosmic climb to adult estate? Woman is the Unk between men and children. Man cannot understand an infant. The infant cannot understand a man. Woman understands them both; and interprets them each to the other. To demand of woman the cold rationality of man, would be asking her to give up her vocation in the scheme of things. Man for mentahty, woman for sensibihty — there is the team that pulls the wide world forward. As woman is the connecting link between childhood and adulthood, municipality is the hnk between Nature and human nature. A city has an earthly base, and climbs — if it be a Free City — into loftiest altitudes; the Tree Igdrasil, earth-grounded, but whose top is close against the sky. What form of statehood was it trans- formed a mud stream into the River Jordan, theme of song wheresoever civihzation has spread its fire? What A COSMIC COURTSHIP 285 form of statehood took some hillocks, bleak and bare m" the Italian campagna, and transfigured them into seven- hilled Rome, clothed in majesty? What form of state- hood took Attica's thin and dusty soil, and transformed it into purple-crowned Athens? Or the valley of that back-country stream, the Arno, and glorified it into a Florence? Or the dull Baltic coast, and turned it into Hanseatic towns? Enumerate the spots where the un- conscious landscape has been educated into towers of strength and temples of renown, you have enumerated the municipal republics of history. It is not a dreamer's dream but sound and authentic truth: The Free City is the link of connection, by means of which insensate Nature climbs up into and becomes vivacious human nature. To speak therefore of a municipality as possessing fem- inine gender, is to speak the truth. All of the qualities that characterize womanhood, characterize municipal commonwealths. Athens was named from her goddess Athena. Florence, in her florid valley, gives her name to an innumerable company of girls. When the Romans personified their city, it was always in the feminine gender, roma. There are controversialists who ask. If woman is man's equal, why are all of the great artists men? The answer is, Man produces art, but woman produces the artist. Her modeling is not in clay or wood or marble; but in living flesh, the body of the child she is conducting up to manhood. In like manner, the municipality does not produce art; but she produces artists who, in gratitude to their alma mater, bring the dear-wrought produce of their hands to garnish her. Within the seclusion of her sovereignty she sits, a wife incommunicado, a mother cherishing her children. She is home-etajdng; but her silent ministrations are the 286 THE FREE CITY replenishment of her children, whose names resound afar. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up and call her blessed. The Free City, girt with dignities and civil dominion, is the only form of society under which woman has found contentment. In non-municipal eras, man can struggle along, can keep a measure of health; but woman in such an era goes to pieces. Our times afford illustration. This denatured civihzation is hard on man; but it is prov- ing fatal to woman. The pestilence of artificiaUty j&nds in man a something of resisting power. But the plague sweeps womanhood with frightful fatality. Woman is made for Nature, and can find no rest until she rests in Nature. Whelm her away from that soil, she is a rose torn up by the roots. Woman is the political barometer. When her spirit is in a posture of contentment, it is sign that the State is nearly of the Natural type. But when neurasthenias begin to visit her, and portents of spiritual collapse, it signifies that the poUtical establishment is imsound. The grandeur of Rome, as to the men she produced, had its counterpart in the queenliness of her women. Cornelia sending her sons to die for the State in a struggle for popular rights, was only a more conspicuous instance of the average Roman matron; like the Spartan mother, cheering her boy to a career of courage and admonishing that he keep his shield unsurrendered: "Come back with it, or on it." Pilate, presiding over the trial of Jesus, accounted the prisoner as but one more in the daily ad- ministrative grind. Nevertheless he put into that court scene a dignity and elevation that matched, on the side of the magistracy, the loftiness contributed by the bear- ing of the prisoner. Imagine the judge in a modern A COSMIC COURTSHIP 287 court departing from the routine to ask an ill-kempt prisoner at the bar, "What is truth." And the hand- washing! Is there to-day one judge in ten thousand with the originality to conceive a deed like that, or the poetic daring to interrupt court procedure for so dramatic a symboHsm? The harsh necessities of empire compelled Pilate, in condemning Jesus, to do a dastardly piece of work. But he did it with style. Jesus was unjustly dealt with. But he was not sordidly dealt with. Pilate's demeanor dignified the event up out of the level of brutal- ity onto the level of tragedy. And we glimpse the hidden spring that was moving him. In the background — Pilate's wife. We behold her, interesting herself per- sonally in affairs of state; with a sagacity that kings and counsellors could envy. And she was an ordinary Roman wife. More exclusively than perhaps any other spot upon earth, the AcropoHs was devoted to the adoration of womanhood. Almost excessive was the Athenian defer- ence to women. Aristotle questions the wisdom of "Feminine ascendency," and the "over-indulgence of women." Plato voices the same fear. Decidedly there was no Woman Movement in the Attic Commune. A movement for Man's Rights would have been more logi- cal. And yet Athens was not effeminized. Her sons were trained for citizenship rather than for miUtarism. But in withstanding an invader, the men of Athens were famed for pig-headed fighting. "By thee I have run through a troop, and by my God I have leaped over a wall," exclaimed a citizen in the neighboring commime of Israel. Attic manhood ground to powder the myrmidons of Xerxes; and then, to their goddess queen Athena, built the most beautiful structure in the world. We moderns, to whom a city is naught but a place to 288 THE FREE CITY make money in, can scarce imagine the affection felt by citizens toward their Conmiune. Patriotism is too feeble a term for it. It was a love attachment; so adorable was the tie betwixt the Mistress-Mother and her offspring. They were creatures of a day; but she endured in ever- lasting succession; had borne their fathers in the foretime, and would bear their children when they themselves had been gathered to the kingdoms of the dead. In the hazy light of morning they saw her as a Lady enthroned, a fostering protective Mother. Take the instincts throbbing in a chUd of Nature; to that add the venerations that thrill in us when we re- member our dead; add further the fellowship of a com- mon hazard and a sense of stewardship for our children's children — this was the massive emotion their city re- pubUc evoked. It was naught less than a love rapture. To her their hves were amorously engaged. In her be- half, self-immolation was joyful. No ego was permitted to be self-important. They laid themselves at her feet as a lover brings love gifts to the lode-star of his affections. To make an oblation to her was gratification beyond all other delights. It ennobled their handiwork. Her people aspired with all their organs to produce something preciously wrought; worthy to be a brooch for her neck or a jewel to be set in her diadem. "O Mother dear, Jerusalem!" — there we see the emo- tion that immortalized Palestine. The Bible is quite the most voluptuous romance in hterature. It is the love story of God's amour with Jerusalem. God is the Fel- lowship that created the heavens and the earth; and who, in his Palestinian self-manifestation, took the name Jehovah. This God fell in love with Jerusalem. "Fear not; for thou shalt not be put to shame. For thy Maker is thine husband; the Lord of Hosts is his name." It was A COSMIC COURTSHIP 289 a romantic love; the match was forbidden by jealous and mighty empires round about, who claimed this Jerusalem virgin as their concubine. The determination of the high and holy One to have her exclusively for Himself — His yearnings after her, and her yearnings after Him — is the golden thread that runs through the Old Testament and the New. Ezekiel describes the betrothal: "Word of the Lord : When I passed by thee and looked upon thee, behold thy time was the time of love. And I spread my skirt over thee, and entered into a covenant with thee; and thou becamest mine. I anointed thee with oil. I clothed thee also with broidered work, and I gilded thee with fine linen. I decked thee also with ornaments. Thou wast exceeding beautiful." The fundamental teaching of the Bible — more constantly insisted upon than any other to be found within its pages — is that a Free City stands breast-high to God, lovely in her win- someness; and He is so warm-blooded He can never re- sist the attraction. When a jilted suitor like Chaldea comes and kidnaps this lovely maiden out of the arms of her celestial Lover, it is regarded as an enforced widowhood. At such a time the prophets rose up to assure the people that the conjugal tie would be renewed. "Thou shalt not re- member the reproach of thy widowhood any more." The "Song of Songs" has puzzled commentators; there is in its language a fleshliness and naturaUsm that seem to many to be out of place in a sacred volume hke the Bible Those Canticles are a series of love-letters written by the amorous couple, to console the time of their separa- tion. The imperiaUstic kidnapper is Ukened to King Solomon with his many wives, and who seeks now to buy the love of the Maiden with palaces and horses and chari- ots. But she, "the Shulamite Maid," will not be bribed. 290 THE FREE CITY She writes passion-flaming letters to her heavenly Bride- groom; says that she prefers poverty, in the arms of her Well-beloved, to the blandishments of an imperialistic sensualist who seeks but to add her to the number of his kept women. Her Bridegroom writes equally ardent letters to her in return; sighs for the moment that shall reunite them in the connubial bond. Beneath the sen- suous imagery is enforced the soundest lesson in politi- cal science: ImperiaUsm, tying many landscapes to one capital, is Ukened to an emperor surrounded by a multi- tude of concubines; whereas municipal independence is the monogamic union of one man and one woman. God as the husband, Jerusalem as the wife, and the IsraeUtes as their offspring — that is the psychology that permeates the Bible through and through. As in all true marriages, the blend was perfect; a union of soul, so that the children knew not which of the pair to love the more. Sometimes their worship went out to the Father, and sometimes to the Mother. Forasmuch as by the necessities of the case a married couple is represented in their relations with the outside world by the husband, whilst the wife occupies a more retired place, thus God- head made up of male and female was usually referred to by them as "He." But underneath that official "He," the feminine was always included. "Rejoice ye with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all ye that love her. That ye may suck and be satisfied with the breasts of her consolations; that ye may milk out and be dehghted with the abundance of her glory. Ye shall be borne upon her sides and be dandled upon her knees; as one whom his mother comforteth." No small part of the teaching of Jesus was to get the people ready for the "Marriage Supper," when the heavenly Father and the Jerusalem Mother would be A COSMIC COURTSHIP 291 reunited in wedlock joy. A poet in his mastery over the resources of language, he drew lavishly upon those re- sources to picture the gladness and the glories of that wedding feast. The unfaithful IsraeUte will be excluded from that event. The faithful will be bidden, and it will be their everlasting reward; for they will thereafter live imder the tender care of a Father and a Mother. So importantly did this nuptial event occupy the imagina- tion of Jesus, it got into the Patmos vision. The climax of that revelation announces: "I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." St. Augustine, who as a young man had been a loose Uver, was attracted by this picture of spiritualized love. He gave up his hbertinisms; became ardently attached to this picture of a heavenly Bride; and wrote "The City of God," his masterpiece. Not strange that a State thus highestly feminized — "daughter of Zion" — should have produced an array of great women. Rebecca and Sarah, Ruth and Naomi and Deborah and Hannah and Elizabeth — how the Ust awakens hearthstone memories! and Mary the Mother, ornament of the world, pearl among women; for whom no canvas is white enough, no pigment sufficiently rich, to image forth her charm and graces. Municipalism is feminism. All other political estab- Ushments are an indecent society for women to live in . The Dark Ages that preceded the Gothic, presented a black- ened gulf of egoisms in fierce contention. In such a time, powerful sinews, a sword arm trained and ready, were the requisites. That gave to man the preeminence; relegated woman, by reason of her inferiority in fighting strength, to a subordinate position. But in that black marauder epoch, woman was the preserver of life. In 292 THE FREE CITY all eras man has been inclined to play the runagate; fish- ing and hunting and warring and roaming. Woman is the home builder. Her spirit is eminently of a construc- tive cast. For bearing and rearing children a nest is needed. A nest requires permanency of abode. Legend says that, when the .^Eneas band, meandering about the Mediterranean after their expulsion from burning Troy, landed finally on the shores of Italy, the women of the party went down to the water by stealth and set fire to the ships, in order that the nomadism might come at last to a perpetual end. Thus restrained from further rovings, the band of wanderers settled down in Italy; and Rome was eventually the result. The Gothic period saw woman restored to honor and reverence; because in the settled mode of life known as Free Cities, her qualities began once more to be ap- preciated. The five hundred Dark Years had inured man to warfarings, made him adept in the arts that destroy; had incapacitated him for the business of construction. Bulf not so, woman. Whilst the husband had been swag- gering through the countryside in the train of some feudal chieftain, the wife had stayed at home, tending the farm, nourishing the household, weaving the cloth, sewing the garments — was butcher and baker and candlestick maker. In the lowUer classes she was the plow driver, the goose girl, dairy maid, shepherd, and herder. In the castle enclosure, high bom dames worked the spinning wheel and loom; were the practitioners in medicine, and even in surgery. So when the communes finally arose, with their demand for a productive type of life, woman came into her own. In that signal burst of beauty, we find Joan of Are, Marguerite of Navarre, St. Catherine, St. Theresa, Isa- bella of Castile, Mary of Scotland. The universities of A COSMIC COURTSfflP 293 Salerno and Bologna had women professors. It is to this period we owe the Arthur Legends, wherein knights errant went forth in the name of womanhood to do courtly deeds. Now were the Troubadours. Sings one of them: "I know of no more subtle passion under heaven than is the maiden passion for a maid; not only to keep down the base in man, but to teach high thoughts and amiable words and courtliness and the desire of fame and zest of truth, and all that makes a man." Affirms Vogelweide the Minnesinger: "He who has a good woman's love is ashamed of every evil deed." Wellnigh a third of the pictures of that era are Madon- nas. The cathedrals were built mostly to "Our Lady." In any city of France, ask the way to "The Cathedral of Notre Dame," and you will usually have hit upon the name of the Gothic structure in that town. Florentines dedicated their duomo to "Mary of the Flower." She was the inspiration of the art work of the period. This reverence paid to womanhood overpowered man's native roughness, subdued his handiwork to delicacy of touch and to an instinctive taste; a rapture of devotion that blazoned forth in glasswork of rich colors, carpentry, stone carvings, metal work, tapestry, paintings. The instances of Abelard and Heloise, Dante and Beatrice, Petrarch and Laura, are eloquent of the power of woman in that era to cast a spell over minds of the first magnitude. In the "Mystery of Adam," a twelfth century play, the dialogue explains why Satan, in the apple-eating affair, chose Eve instead of Adam as the object of his personal attentions: "(Devil): Adam I've seen; but he's a dull thing. (Eve): He is a little obsti- nate. (Devil): But he'll be soft enough soon. At present he's rougher than hell. (Eve) : He is very naive. (Devil): Say, very low. He isn't worth helping. To 294 THE FREE CITY help you shall be my care. For you are tender. The rose is not so fresh as you. A sorry mixture God hath brewed: you, too tender, and he too boorish. You have much the greater sense. Therefore I turn to you." There is a puzzle among scholars as to the identity of Dante's "Beatrice." Some, doubting that she was a flesh-and-blood creature, beheve her to have been the poet's symbol for Abstract Reason, or the Light of Piety. More probably she was in his mind the figure that per- sonified his native city. Beatrice means, "Conducing to Blessedness." The man of long exile, wearied by eating another's salt and going up and down another's stairs, would regard his homeland as the lost feUcity. He refers to this Beatrice as "That lady of all gentle manners." Anyone who has seen Florence-by-the-Arno, with im- agination of what it must have been in that Gothic age, can easily think of her in terms used by Dante of Beatrice: "Behold a deity stronger than I, who coming shall rule over me." Ghibbeline and Guelf — Empire and the Papacy — had begun to divide the conmaune of Florence. But Dante, though the victim of this factional strife, cannot tear the adoration of her out of his heart: "I have borne punishment of exile and poverty, since it was the pleasure of that fairest and most renowned Florence to cast me out of her sweet bosom in which I had my birth and nourishment even to the ripeness of my age; and in which, with her good will, I desire with all my heart to rest this weary spirit of mine, and to terminate the time allotted to me on earth." In the Renaissance, the artist of them all that most retained the spirit of the preceding Gothic age, was per- haps Leonardo da Vinci. And his masterwork was the portrait of a woman — Mona Lisa. So much was fem- inine grace the tone and level of his thinking, Leonardo A COSMIC COURTSHIP 295 could not imagine even implements of slaughter except under a configuration of delicacy and tasteful design. His term for war was "the superlative of brutish frenzy" — PAZzio BESTiALissiMA. And yct, in offering his ser- vices to the Duke of Ludovico, in the inventory of his accomplishments he said: "I can construct bombards, cannon, mortars; all new, and very beautiful," Only in an artistic era does woman feel at home. Mu- nicipality is the artistic mode of civilization, as contrasted with the material aims, the competitive cut-throatings and the miUtaristic orgies under a national regime. Free Cities — civiTAS regnans — gave to the map of the world in that Gothic day endless variety in the unity of the same spirit; facets of the central splendor, each sparkling with an angle of its own; and so transmuting our duU Earth into a diamond for the coronet of The Eternal. And this attribute of artistry came from the civic amour that mingled Uke a mystical infusion in the blood of the men of that time. Civitas Dei was the rehgion and the poUtics of the day. Their genius was an emanation from her luxuriance. Those men were embowered in a holy and sumptuous passion. If you think of Florence, una DONNA KARA starts to the hps; and of the other com- monwealths: BELLissiMA CREATURA. Their city was their inamorata. To her they addressed an idolatry of adoration. In all their affictions, she was afflicted. Motherlike, she put the full breast of her tenderness to the last and least of her children. So affectionately em- bosomed, the citizens responded to the mesmerism. Workingmen felt no restiveness in their appointed sta- tions. They drudged in lowly paths of imderservice, that she might swell in prosperity and fame. Wages? wages were but an honorarium. SeK-effacement is easy for the dear-loved mistress of one's heart. 296 THE FREE CITY When the city sits a queen enthroned, woman finds herself and is at rest. When society disintegrates into a jumble of tiger-hearts contending for gain by commercial strife or armed encounter, woman with her finer com- position and delicacy of organization is the first to suffer. The stark materiaUsm known as modernity is disen- throning womankind. In a time of mihtarism and barbaric luxury, she feels herself cheapened, depreciated. The standards that material and corrupted men measure success by, are not her standards. In that arena she is a disquahfied competitor. Under nationalism, with its liberation of brute force, woman is touched and grieved in every particle of her being, CommerciaHsm blows through her Uke a bitter east wind. She knows that something is wrong. She is reaching out for poHtical power, in order to bring the world back into a polity where fellowship shall replace the pandemonium. Not in nationalisms and poUticianisms shall these her new-found energies function. When woman comes into pohtical power, she is going to bring the seat of govern- ment back to the community. Municipality is the ex- tension of the household. Industry is no longer a home affair, as once, but a community affair; the baking of the bread, weaving of the cloth, making of garments, co- operatively. Woman's desire to be emancipated from the home and partake of a larger life, is not an abdica- tion of her housewifery. Doilies are not enough to employ her forces. The so-called "new woman" has an instinct that the world's work has moved from the home out into the social organization; and she wishes to be where the creative tasks of life are transacted. Women's clubs, municipal leagues — the Woman's Movement generally — will make for Free Cities. Woman is bred to home-loyalty as to a second nature. A COSMIC COURTSHIP 297 In reintroducing the community state, majestic in sovereignty, woman will bring back to the world an age of art. Not perhaps a worship of Maiden Mary, to the ring of hammers on cathedral stones. But a city-wor- ship none the less; and all the grander because woven out of our own day and doings. The tasks that feed and clothe the world are now communal instead of domestic. In enlarging the scope of her motherliness -to the dimen- sions of the municipality, woman is going to rediscover her vocation; and the world will rediscover her loveliness. CHAPTER XXI THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE MUNICIPALITY is the thunderstorm of history. Marathon, Salamis, Thermopylae, Armageddon, Legnano, Ghent, Calais, Unterwalden, Saragossa — these have written the powerful pages in the volume of the years of man. The city repubhc is a social ap- paratus for organizing goodwill into the affairs of our planet. To institute lovingkindness on the earth, is its vocation. For that reason it has declared an implacable vendetta against egoism and feudalism and nationalism and imperialism. Between it and these, the conflict is irrepressible. Golgothas line the path that leads to freedom. Fellowship is an island amid the rage of mighty waters. That island will never subsist except it rim it- self with a shore line of rock and steel, vetoing the teeth of a gnashing sea. To be itself, fellowship must refuse to fellowship the foes of fellowship. They only are citi- zens, who will to take up their residence in the storm country. The municipal state is a commune of workers surround- ing themselves with a hedge, to break the gusts of ad- versity and ward off pillagers. That hedge, whose other name is sovereignty, is an affront to the predatory ones seeking to annex that commune. The citizen commonwealth is a company of toilers who refuse to be annexed. They will entrust to no one the guardianship of their liberties. Let it be suggested that they receive 298 THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 299 a fate not of their own making, straightway they sharpen the horns of rebellion. The Free City! fair is she, but never soft. PanopUed with sovereignty as with a gar- ment, she lifts herself in a form and posture of regaUty. For that reason her people love her. It was Attica's acceptance of a gambUng chance against the Empire of the E^st, that evoked in her children an ecstasy of adoration. Said Aristotle: "PoUtical society exists for the sake of noble actions, and not of mere companionship." I know of no utterance that comprises within few words a niightier wealth of meaning. "The greatest happiness of the greatest number," is modernity's idea of the State. To this inglorious and craven creed, city repubHcs would make reply: To be heroic is more important than to be happy; the end of statecraft is not the greatest happiness of the greatest nimiber, but the greatest nobleness of the greatest number. Nationalism talks in terms of full dinner pails, soft clothing, comfort, balmy days and Sybaritic nights. The Free City talks in terms of Ub- erty, courage, hardihood, independence, self-respect, municipal romance, spiritual adventure. In late times the labor movement has shown a proneness for the flesh- pots of Egypt, rather than for the wilderness trek to Canaan and freedom and civic statehood. The perfect fruit thereof would be mediocrity and disinheritance; a slough of sour despond. For the industrial mass to slump into a loaves-and-fishes philosophy were a strangulation of the nobilities that make for immortal handiwork. Since inmiemorial time, the Free City has constituted the parapets of the people. Big states make for money power. Small states make for popular power. National government is the weapon of the rich; municipal govern- ment is the weapon of the poor. Municipality alone has been the custodian of industrial democracy. Within her 300 THE FREE CITY inviolable arms the toiling multitude have found asylum. Cooperation "is the marrow and the meaning of the cen- turies. The Commune is cooperation that takes itself seriously. Unless it own the wedge of earth it Uves upon, supreme in poUtical prerogatives and eminent domain, a cooperative colony is an infantiUsm; a folk unable to peer forth upon the world except with supplication in their eyes. With mere suppUcators, Heaven will hold no converse. Only the communes that were invested with sovereignty have added chapters to the big bible known as CiviUzation. When statehood is surrendered, the muse of history folds her notebook and departs. A Free City is the marriage of economics and religion. It exalts workingmen into the seats of the mighty; but it sees to it that they are patriotic workingmen, cherish- ing the State as their supreme loyalty. In so doing it sows in their hearts the seeds of aspiration, inculcates just and faithful dealing. By reason of city pride, in- dustry is shot through with a sense of obligation. A municipal socialism would be a reUgious socialism. With- out contradiction, the sum of Scripture is that the Free City is a spiritual institute. A citizenly proletariat is the consummation of the universe. The Bible deifies democracy; it preaches the kingliness of the Conunune; which is not only a stern rampart of Uberty, but also is a sober and responsible society, A municipally-minded workingclass domesticates Deity here in our low earth. The community state declares that the toilers are celes- tially ordained to dignities and the rulership. The labor movement is divine, because it has for its purpose to glorify the world with elegance and majesty. Never is beauty the product of a fat and compliant soul. MunicipaUty comes to put iron into our exhausted blood. Free Cities have been the sunbursts along the Time- THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 301 stream, irradiating what otherwise had been a stupid story. They were beautiful because they were free. Liberty alone communicates dignity and power to the workingclass, whereby their toil takes on a heightened tone, so that the centuries elbow each other to gaze thereon. In sa3dng that genius is an affair of poUtical adjustment, I say what is attested by abundant and irrefutable cita- tions. The one thing most learnable from history — that kind and sagacious schoolmaster — is that in city republics workmen build beautifully; in other poUties of state they build unbeautifully. If labor in the twentieth century decides for comfort instead of hberty, it is all up with art. To work as Uttle as possible! is a pig-stye the goal that is ahead of us? "a millenium of tin cornices and caUco!" The grand epochs have been those in which the workers were patient of suffering, but most impatient of servitude. Prison is wherever man toils without imagination. And a prison product is never beautiful. Only in freedom's hot and teeming soil do works of beauty germinate. A commodity made by millhands, sullen with the joylessness that hung over its creation, cannot be lovely; even though it be the product of a six-hour workday. To have beauty once more upon the earth, we must have freemen; each producer a peer of the realm, toilers re- splendent with magistracy and lordship, enfranchised citizens in the commonwealth of God. Pericles would not permit a slave to work on the civic edifices he was building. Art is the capacity of a piece of work to re- produce in the beholder the tingle that presided over its conception and nativity. Between art and servitude there is an incompatibihty of, temper. To build a para- dise, other ingredients are requisite than asphalt and pig iron. Beauty will not revisit the earth save on the arm 302 THE FREE CITY of Freedom, her lordly spouse; self-government, which the noble spirits in every age have concurred in pro- nouncing the only thing worth striving for. Free Cities are the beads on the rosary of time, great beads inter- spersed with lesser ones; that we may piously tell them over, with thanksgiving and strong devotion. Municipahty is the passion of collectivity. "If one misdo," read the Gothic guild regulations, "let all bear it; let all share the same lot." Ever the communion of mankind has functioned in small units, and always will. The city commonwealth is the democracy of common sense. Positioned at the heart of life, it is a universal counterbalancing. We hear a good deal nowadays about "natural rights," "workmen's rights," " property rights," "women's rights." Municipal Rights comprehends them all. The citizen commune is life's nodal point, where contradictories turn to concord and belligerencies find a redeemer. It holds the teeter-board of law and license on an even beam. To be a citizen is to be spiritually-minded, but also to keep a foothold on the sound and solid earth. The citizen looks not so exclu- sively at the stars that he falls into a well, nor does he watch out for the wells in his path, to a forgetting of the constellations by which alone he can set and keep his course. He is attached to the land, but never as a rustic or a peasant; the city near at hand is a world capital; so that, although his feet plod the furrow, he leads a big life. Rome could draw her consuls from the plow. No individual man is large enough to be a complete man. Seeing the picture of a faultless woman, beholders express the wish that they could be as perfect as she who sat as the model. But that artist employed several models; took the face of one, the breast of another, the THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 303 neck and shoulders of another. Now that the picture is completed, individual woman, gazing upon it and spiritu- ally absorbing it, is changed into the same full-orbed de- velopment. Municipality is human perfection, because it is the human total. Under any other form of polity, Man is a shattered mirror; the parts of the image are there, but disunited; "brain-cracked," is the word we use. The commimity state is the mirror unfractured; gather- ing the fragmentary egos into a unified picture; and we call it beauty. The Free City is another term for equilibrium; Ufe in its entireness; the dreamer's dream and the doer's deed, in clasp with shriekings of dehght. To-day our existence is departmental. Labor is tapering off into an ever more narrow and inhuman speciaUsm. Consider Giotto, master-workman in Florence. He could build, paint, mold, work in mosaic; and during most of his life, he was in the active apostleship of St. Francis. Michael Angelo attained distinction in all four of the major arts, paint- ing, sculpture, poetry, and architecture. Raphael, great- est of painters, was also an architect and an archaeologist. Leonardo insisted that he was not great as a painter, but rather as an architect, scientist, and engineer. Lack- ing but the gasoline engine, he solved the art of flying. A spit for roasting pigs was one of his contrivances. While painting "The Last Supper," he left the head of one of the apostles a long time unfinished; because he became interested in devising a sausage machine, and had trouble in getting one of the blades to work properly. Municipal sense is common sense. The city state puts all things into ratio. Owners cry that property rights should receive exclusive thought; it isn't common sense. The anarchist cries that individual rights are alone im- portant; it isn't conamon sense. Brute materialists 304 THE FREE CITY swing off in one direction, wild dreamers swing off in the opposite direction; municipality takes them both by the scruff of the neck and pulls them back into unison; neither low-vaulted utilitarianism nor cloud-soaring idealism, but a broad and liberal humanism. When classes are exasperated against each other, city-worship strikes the note that conciliates them. In thus declaring that life is bifocal — property rights and personal rights on a parity — and that the Haves and Have-nots must formulate an amicable program, laborists may deem me overcomplaisant to the monied set. He who is writing this occupies a prison cell, and there are stanchions of iron thick barring the window yonder — (in a day of the Dollar's mad obsession, they alone are free who are in jail for the cause of freedom). We of the industrial reHgion have a great ideology; we must interfuse it with matter-of-fact actuaUty. The material element in civiUzation is of as much importance as the personal element; that the balances may hang equal. Our Pegasus should go in plow-harness. Towards either fact or theory, citizenship permits not a hairs- breadth of bias. The middle path is the sound path. IN MEDIO TUTissiMUS IBIS. Commercialism at the one extreme, fanaticism at the opposite extreme; munici- pality blends them into communalism, component of the two. Each is necessary for the correction of the other; life's alkali and life's acid combining to form life's base. The Free City draws her lines perpendicular to the social strata. She destroys class enmity. Vertical lines of division, when they conform to physical geography, are natural. Horizontal lines, disregarding landscapes and inflaming class against class, are unnatural. Civic consciousness goes prosperously. Class consciousness is THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 305 forbidden by cosmic decree. The municipal state is the natm-al state, because it is a microcosm. Athens was a cross section of the universe; extending from Nature in her lowest and primeval orders, up to humans in the shape of an Aristides. That "Uttle cosmos," seK-fed and self-possessed, was a true state. Truth is fideUty of interchange between materiahty and ideaUty, the outer world and the inner, Nature and human nature. Life's rightful center — five and twenty centuries with thundering speech proclaim it — is the community; whence the rays of government can diverge to and fructify both the extreme Left and the extreme Right, from minutest affairs of the individual, to business of world- wide ranges. It is the mediatrix, in whose just arbit- rament the warring estates of life coincide; labor and capital marching abreast in Uberal reciprocity. The municipal repubhc is a pantheon of all the grandeurs; life in its congregation and totaUty; an omnium gathe- rum; man completing himself on all sides. It alone can break down the barriers between wrangling creeds and classes. The city repubUcs reveal a scene where all the interests of hfe meet in one full center of radiance. Every great epoch has been characterized by a great synthesis. Municipality is the synthesizer. Make the ego supreme, you have mob-rule. Make the world-unit supreme, you have money-rule. Make the conununity supreme, you sociaUze the mob and you humanize the money power. Under nationalism, hfe's material part is gaining on life's personal part; plutocracy is rising in the ascendant. Which is bad even for the propertied class. It breeds war, and war has now for four years been destrojdng property at the rate of a bilhon dollars weekly. Mammon-Moloch is not only swallowing us up, it is eating itself up. Pepsin is good. But when the 306 THE FREE CITY stomach begins to digest itself, has not the pepsin o'er- leaped itself and become pathology? We behold a tm-bu- lence more and more bloodshot; the law lagging ever more slowly, the bullet speeding ever more swiftly. Sweeter than peace in fever comes to us the evangel of citizenship. Unto a haggard and distraught era, harried by contending winds and conflicting currents, it is the pacificator. Frost and fire immemorially at quarrel; Heaven mixes them in municipahty's golden brew. To modernity has befallen an evil heart of unbelief. It is because of our ego-lunacy. Lord God is not an ego. He has only a social being, and must be socially discerned. Rehgion is a big-scale enterprise. It is a community affair, not an individual affair. John Smith thinks he can talk face to face with the Lord of the universe — a fiire-fly trying to be chummy with a volcano. God does not transact business with the John Smiths, but with Boston or Duluth or Milwaukee, of which John Smith is a part. The conmiunity is the subject of redemption. Skepticism is always a stumble-stone in the path of an ego age; stone placed there Providentially in order that individualism may stub its toe, break its neck. There is nothing that will so infallibly certify the existence of The Eternal, as a sovereign and tender-hearted city, ein PESTE BURG IS UNSER GOTT, saug Luthcr. And Luther was right: God is a strong-walled city; and strong-walled cities are God. It is a seated and visible spirituality; God palpably embodied; base on which to build an eternal trust. The heart of man to-day is sagging with doubt, because we have gotten away from the Bible; portraying the Divine to be anthropomorphic, when He is poUtico- morphic. God is not shaped like a man, He is shaped Uke a city. The Divine anatomy is municipal in its form and features. THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 307 A Free City is vital in every part, so that the rib-work of its streets becomes the bony framework of the Most High, into which all the parts articulate. Factories are the hands of EQm. City hall is the heart of Him. Farm- lands romid about are the food of Him. Courts and hbraries are the brain of Him. Trafl&c is the moving blood in the veins of Him. Homes are cells in the lungs of Him. PoHce are the pahns and fists of Him. Poverty is tuberculosis in the bones of Him. Slums are a blotch on the skin of Him. Fifth Avenue is a dropsy in the flesh of Him. Strikes are a gripe in the entrails of Him. Jails are a sore in the limbs of Him. Festivals are the laughter of Him. Beauty is a smile on the face of Him. Civic sovereignty is the backbone of Him, keeping the body upright. An objection obtrudes, I doubt not: "The city repubHc was suitable for ancient times; and perhaps it is to be regretted that the world is no longer in that pristine simpUcity. But civihzation now is a complicated thing. So that the jurisprudence of Jesus and Aristotle is anti- quated. It is all very well to say that we must stop hiring our government done for us. But we are com- pelled to. Political administration is become a highly speciahzed affair. Government by hired men is a neces- sity. To ask the people as a whole to manage so expert and involved a plexus as the modern political system, is to ask an impossibility." I think so too. Not only is it an impossibility for the people as a whole. For the brainiest few, it is equally impossible. The muddle into which Christendom has blundered, declares that the present scheme has got be- yond control. No brain was ever produced, equal to the government of so vast a scheme as these huge modern entities we call nations. We are drifting. Mankind is 906 THE FREE CITY not using the matters and facts of life, but is being used by them. To administer so colossal an aggregate as a nation, embracing a bewilderment of climates and races and topographies jummixed into one, is a task (I speak it reverently) beyond the capacity of Lord God Himself. That is why He commands that we separate the tangled mass into its segmental parts, and put each part into the hands of the people who Uve there. Said Lord Bryce in his recent address as president of the British Academy, "Sometimes one feels as if modern states were growing too huge for the men to whom their fortunes are com- mitted." Nationalism seeks to support the temple of civihzation by a few big columns, sparsely scattered over the globe. MunicipaUty would support that ponderous weight by a multitude of small piers and pilings, dis- tributed evenly and universally, so as to underprop the mass at every point. Aristotle called attention to the law that is operative everywhere in life: For each thing there is a natural size; as for tools and animals. So, said he, there is a natural size also for the state; and that is, the municipal size. Beyond that, abnormality begins. Ocean steamers of fifty thousand tons work well. Therefore one might reason that a steamer twenty times that size would work twenty times as well. And think of "the economy of large production." One captain could preside over the entire vessel, releasing nineteen other captains. The decks would be large enough for golf or baseball; and such like. But marine experts will tell you that a ship of a milUon tons would be so large and draw so much water, there is no harbor in the world could receive the mon- strosity. And in a driving seaway, she would break apart. Therefore, instead of one million-ton ship, we have a score of fifty-thousand tonners; working har- THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 309 moniously by the confederation whereby they concert a code of sea lanes and signal lights. Quite fifty per cent of the material fabric of our time is senseless. Not only could we get along without it; we shall not be able to get along with it. To overload the stomach is a waste of good food; but also, and more seriously, it is detrimental to the health. Other ages also have been overflooded by tides of misery. But, so far as I know, it has remained for modernity to present to The Immortals the spectacle of a people toiling and moiling to saddle upon their backs a jackass load of superfluity. A return to the city commonwealth will mean the extinction of a good deal of improper and fool- ish work. Amid industrial self-government, the toilers will refuse to villify themselves with degrading employ- ment. To-day hundreds of wage-earners drudge in tanneries and factories, mixing their sweat and their blood into leather, in order that heels may be so high as to deform the person and hobble the gait. The tragedy of the labor world is not unemployment but misemploy- ment. We are probably in the vainest Vanity Fair that ever rattled its baubles to distract attention from the tedium and vacuity of a civilization constituted of ivory, apes, and peaGocks. When all the world shall at last be electric-lighted, rubber-tired and plastered with macadam, then will be felicity supernal? then we shall drink deep bumpers of bliss? Observe a thrush on the fence rail, singing in the spring- time. With what a verve and insouciance pours the un- premeditated melody! He believes in the natural good- ness of things, and with a faith that shames the small science of the schools. He never learned voice produc- tion. Yet how his improvisation exceeds our pains- takingness! What joy of being alive! what nonchalance, 310 THE FREE CITY so careless and so lofty! Brother, there is something wrong if we, heir of all the ages, high uplifted on the pinnacles of time, have to yield the laureateship to a thrush on the fence rail. If that bird is joyful-hearted and we are not, our "progress" has been the most un- progressive thing imaginable. In order to lead a great life, we need not the vainglories of an excessively material society. Nature is of exhaustless bounty. Would we but heed Christ's exhortation against worldly carefulness, and entrust ourselves to the spirit of Fellowship, we would be cared for. Will you listen to the recipe for a banquet of ambrosia? — good hunger, and a pot frothing at the fire. In the communion of spirited and liberal minds, a luxurious menu is impedimenta. How scurvily we have been dealt with by destiny! modern materialism has travailed in a mountainous birth; and now, delivered of the enormity, it is fovmd to be not a mountain but a rubbish heap. Municipal states are small; they are based on the qualitative standard. National states are huge — care for naught but the quantitative standard. The larger the state, the more warlike. Whenever a small state shows a bent toward war, peer closely and behind the scenes you will discover some imperial nation pulling the wires. Joy is the best germicide; gladness is better than doc- tors. Our soul is built for beauty, and is homesick until it rests in beauty. Medicaments will not dull the ache of that unappeasable hunger. A day of toys, day of fops, day of surfeits; a very Nessus-shirt, shooting in on our distracted day all descriptions of misery. We boast much of sanitation. The Bethlehem Stable would be condemned out of hand by a modern board of health. But I have not heard of a maternity hospital nowadays THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 311 that is turning out a better product. The community- state simphfies life, so that democracy becomes practi- cable. Government is not an occult or recondite province of knowledge; something to be administered by hireling professionals. Government is a group of people manag- ing their affairs in common. Now that we have machines to do the gross work, to even the lowhest can be appor- tioned leisure for hberal arts and a daily pubhc-minded- ness. Labor, whose Atlantean shoulders support the world, is competent to govern the world. MunicipaHty is the religion of common sense. To-day, common sense is quite the most uncommon thing in the market. Common sense is the principle of community. It is the highroad, formed by throwing up the ground from both sides; the ditch of materiality yielding up its quota from the Right, the ditch of ideaUty yielding up its quota from the Left; and the road between is Reality. It is Fellowship, wooing the colHsions of life into teamwork. The community state is sohdarity between the deed and the dream; the stabilizer, by whose laws and institutes the balance of the world is kept. Since the Gothic day of power, what a jaunt we have gone; digressing from the highway, to the right hand and to the left! Man is an inquisitive animal; will be adventuring into every side-alley. But the experience now has been acquired. The pitiful swamp we are in, apprises us that we must leave off saunterings and get back onto the roadway. Across the belly and abyss of chaos, munic- ipality gives the only assured footing. Nowhere else shall man's heart be tranquilly established. Free Cities are the high units of mankind, centers of fixed- ness amid the universal flux. Self-government is the one foundation on which can be erected an enduring political edifice. 312 THE FREE CITY People are not good or bad; they are in a society that is organized or unorganized. The ego is helpless. Pri- vate man is a microscopic infinitesimal splinter; a mos- quito in the wind. In the fields of Time and Space, he is of no more size than a wriggler in a rain barrel. Munic- ipaUty takes the human pismire and makes a man out of him. It is the collectivity that counts. The tree, not the fruit, is the object of God's attention. CiviUza- tion is the principle of mutuality; atomistic frag- mentary egos, clubbing together their dwarfish powers to form a full-sized Human Being. The Free City not only is of God but is God. A city commonwealth is automatic morality. And all the more moral because of the easy and unconscious grace of it. People are bells arranged to be rung in chime. At present this peal gives out anything but a musical sound. Thereupon preachers and teachers, moralists and legal- ists, accuse each bell individually of being unmelodious; and they try to tune it. The bells are all right, provided they are swung in harmony. The same set of bells can chime with sweetness, or jangle deviUshly out of tune. When individuals coalesce to form municipal democra- cies, truth and uprightness and creative power emerge without special effort. It is irresistible grace. The city state as a personal and sentient being, is the next step in evolution. People imagine that the leap from the animal into the human has already taken place. The War that has defaced Christendom is proof to the contrary. An egoist is an animal, whether he walk on two legs, or four, or six. A private-minded man is a brute beyond all cattle of the pasture or furry-coated prowlers of the wildwood. A beast of prey is no less a beast of prey because he has a brain sharper than that of a fox, and walks on hind legs taller than a gorilla. The human THE REPUBLIC OF COMMON SENSE 313 biped, except he grow a social consciousness, is a super- animal; king of the carnivora. The evolutionary step is from animality into munic- ipality. All of the singularities that distinguish us from our four-footed relatives came to us as a heritage from Free Cities, those isolated spots in history where animal- ity took the leap and for a time became municipaUty. That civic organism took the mob mind and fused it into civil consciousness. MunicipaUty is a cooperative Brain; they through whom that Brain functions, speak and act with common sense. Animals on the other hand are all they who speak and act with ego sense. The difference between pubHc-mindedness and private-mindedness is the difference between Florence-on-the-Arno and the AustraHan Bush. It is high time we Americans stopped talking in terms of population and began to talk in terms of civiUzation. Ego bipeds are not an asset, they are a UabiUty. We don't appraise a landscape by the number of wolves, bobcats, and buffaloes, but by the number of dogs, kittens, and cows — the tamed species. "Yonkers, Ninety Thousand!" But if they are unconverted egos, the more the worse. A municipal repubUc — minds aiming at one butt, hearts cooperating to the selfsame purpose — is a crater of the central lake of fellowship, that Fire so fearfully and so wonderfully burning at the heart of the cosmos. The crowning book of the Bible is the one written on Patmos. Therein is delineated a portrait of Him who is higher than the highest. And we find the portrait taking the guise of a garden city; ruling itself; owning no earthly superior. The Elders were there, graybeards clothed with reverence and authority. The inhabiters dwelt in concord, observing degree, priority, and rank. A Carpenter was the prince and chief in that Free City. 314 THE FREE CITY Lovely was the river; lovely were the trees by the side of the river. With a frontier the city was girt about. Nor did this wall of sovereignty blemish the landscape; it was preciously built, course upon course in prismatic colorings — a hoop of rainbow splendor hemming them in. Reports the narrator: "I saw no temple therein"; in a city commonwealth, every part is instinct with divin- ity; work is worship; the chi m neys of industry are steeples pointing heavenwards. And this picture of heaven as a Free City, is not confined to the book of Reve- lations; it is reinforced by the drift of all the Scriptures. Municipahty's magnanimous passion has Heaven for its immutable and everlasting guarantee. Some will say I have overwrought the theme. I have not overwrought. My stuttering pen has pushed toward profundities deep beyond fathom. The Free City is God's epic adventure down the tides of time. I have not invented; I have recorded. The book of history and the inner voice declare it: If there be any virtue and if there be any praise, self-government created it. An inter- locking of little repubhcs, is the formula for extending self-government over wide areas. A poUtical pluraHsm, in the unity of a confederative whole. It will restore to us the arts of Attica, the grandeur of Rome, the goodness of GaUlee, the charm of the wonder-building Gothics. And earth will see her wholesome days again. Ad majorem Dei gloriam UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 41584 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITy A 000 585 232 2 3R. HENRY GOLDMAN riNE BOOKS TO3 ^-2 W. «TH ST. I-05 ANaCLCS