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diff --git a/43842-8.txt b/43842-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4ae284b..0000000 --- a/43842-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8283 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of McClure's Magazine, Vol. XXXI, No. 6, -October, 1908, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: McClure's Magazine, Vol. XXXI, No. 6, October, 1908 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: September 28, 2013 [EBook #43842] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE, OCTOBER 1908 *** - - - - -Produced by Karin Spence, Juliet Sutherland and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - [Illustration: _From the painting by F. Brangwyn_ - - "THEIR LANTERN JUST BROUGHT OUT THE GHOSTLINESS OF GRAVESTONES LEANING - BETWEEN THE COLUMNS OF THE CYPRESSES" - - _See "The Valley of Mills," page 659_] - - - - - McCLURE'S MAGAZINE - - VOL. XXXI OCTOBER, 1908 No. 6 - - - - - [Illustration] - -FAMILIAR LETTERS OF AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS - -EDITED BY ROSE STANDISH NICHOLS - -ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS - -_Copyright, 1908, by The S. S. McClure Co. All rights reserved_ - - -These familiar letters from Augustus Saint-Gaudens show the artist as -his intimate friends knew him. They were written at odd moments, often -in haste, and never with a shadow of self-consciousness. They are -interesting, not as literary productions, but as the simple record of a -critical period in his career. - -"Le Coeur au Métier," the motto which he wished to place in his studio, -will be seen to express the spirit of his life. Other keen interests -he had, but they were never allowed to interfere with his work, and -he seldom felt the need of any recreation apart from it. One of his -friends used to complain that in the midst of their merrymaking an -abstracted look would come into his eyes and his mind would hark -back to sculpture. Although he was extremely modest and was given to -underrating his powers in other directions, from his childhood he -confidently expected to be a great artist. As a little school-boy, sent -from his father's shop to do errands, he would sit in the omnibus and -look about at his well-dressed fellow-passengers, and wonder what they -would think if they realized what he was going to be some day. But even -as a child he never dreamed of achieving his ambition without years of -ceaseless struggle. - -When the boy left school, at the age of thirteen, this struggle began. -In 1848 his father, a Frenchman, had brought his Irish wife and his -baby, Augustus, to New York, where he worked as a shoemaker. He was -poor, and was anxious that his eldest son should become self-supporting -as soon as possible; so at thirteen the boy was apprenticed to a -cameo-cutter, whose trade he mastered with surprising readiness, at the -same time studying drawing at the Cooper Institute in the evenings. In -a little while he was not only earning his own living by cameo-cutting, -but excelled all his fellow-pupils at the night-school in talent and -perseverance. - - [Illustration: AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS FROM A PHOTOGRAPH IN THE - COLLECTION OF MRS. ROSE NICHOLS] - -Saint-Gaudens' artistic education was completed in Europe, where he -went at the age of eighteen and stayed almost continuously for nearly -fourteen years. His father sent him first to Paris. There his progress -in the art schools was marked, although he continued to support himself -by his trade, and could give only half his time to sculpture. At the -outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War he reluctantly refrained from -enlisting in the French army and left for Italy. It was in Rome that -he first found sculpture remunerative, and finally was able to drop -cameo-cutting. The years from 1866 to 1880, which he spent in Rome and -Paris, with only occasional visits to America, were singularly happy -ones, characterized by a capacity for continuous work at a high pitch -of excellence. - -The letters from Saint-Gaudens printed here were written eighteen -years later, when the sculptor had come into full possession of his -genius. They cover a most critical period in his career, and record -his greatest artistic triumph--his recognition in France as one of the -foremost of modern sculptors. After he returned to the United States -in 1880 he lived and worked in New York, and by 1897 had built up a -national reputation. His work was progressing under the most favorable -conditions, with the encouragement of an ever-increasing circle of -friends and admirers. On the other hand, in France, his father's -country, where he himself had been educated, his work was practically -unknown. A few of his former comrades at the Beaux-Arts, judging his -sculpture from photographs, did not hesitate to tell Saint-Gaudens -that it had been over-praised in America and would obtain no such -appreciation in France. The sculptor felt that, in order to learn -his own deficiencies and to find out where he really stood among his -contemporaries, he must return to Paris, exhibit at the Salon, and run -the gauntlet of the best critics. All his friends on both sides of the -water discouraged him from taking this step, and he himself dreaded it; -but he believed that, in justice to himself and to his work, he must -make this venture. - -After his decision was made, however, his departure had to be postponed -until various duties were fulfilled. The Shaw and Logan monuments had -first to be completed and unveiled, and a number of smaller commissions -had to be executed. From the beginning of his work upon the Shaw -memorial there had been bitter opposition upon the part of his friends -to the symbolical figure hovering above Colonel Shaw and his men, but -the sculptor clung to his original conception with great tenacity. -Saint-Gaudens' best friend, Bion, a Parisian sculptor and critic, whose -opinion he valued highly, had never liked the idea of this figure. -Just before Bion's death he received a photograph of the monument as -finished in the clay, and he wrote a long letter to Saint-Gaudens, -complaining that the angel was as superfluous as a figure of Simplicity -would be, floating in the air above the bent figures in Millet's -"Gleaners," and concluding: "I had no need of your 'nom de Dieu' -allegory on the ceiling. Your negroes marching in step and your Colonel -leading them told me enough. Your priestess merely bores me as she -tries to impress upon me the beauty of their action." - - [Illustration: CARYATID FOR THE VANDERBILT HOUSE] - -Concerning this letter of Bion's, Saint-Gaudens wrote: - - "The Players, New York, Jan. 26th, 1897 - - "Dear ---- - - "I meant to write you at length tonight but I started with a - letter to Bion which has kept me busy till now, 11 P.M. It is in - reply to the one from him that I enclose, in which at the end he - says a word of you. - - "I am not disturbed by his dislike of my figure. It is because - it does not look well in the photograph. If the figure in itself - looked well, he would have liked it, I know, and notwithstanding - his admirable comparison with the Millet I still think that a - figure, if well done in that relation to the rest of the scheme, - is a fine thing to do. The Greeks and Romans did it finely in - their sculpture. After all it's the way the thing's done that - makes it right or wrong, that's about the only creed I have in - art. However his letter is interesting, although very sad, dear - old boy. - - [Illustration: DETAIL FROM THE SHAW MEMORIAL, SHOWING THE ALLEGORICAL - FIGURE FULL FACE, AS IN THE FIRST DESIGN] - - [Illustration: _Copley print, copyrighted by Curtis and Cameron_ - - DETAIL FROM THE SHAW MEMORIAL, SHOWING THE ALLEGORICAL FIGURE WITH THE - HEAD TURNED MORE IN PROFILE, AS IN THE FINAL EXECUTION] - - "All of the Shaw is out of the studio. They cast the Logan on - Monday and I am working like the devil on the Sherman. I've found - precisely the model I wished, just his size, the same pose of the - head and the same thinness; a Milanese peasant who poses like a - rock. Next week I commence the nude of the Victory from a South - Carolinian girl with a figure like a goddess. - - "Affectionately yours - A. ST.-G." - -Bion died shortly after writing his objections to the allegorical -figure, and if anything could have changed Saint-Gaudens' decision -regarding his composition of the Shaw monument, his friend's letter -would certainly have done so. Although Saint-Gaudens and Bion had -studied sculpture together at the Beaux-Arts in their youth, it was -not until years afterward that, through a constant interchange of -letters, their relation became a close one. Bion gave up sculpture as -a profession, and devoted himself to friendship and philosophy. He -dropped into the studios of a few intimates every day, frequented art -exhibitions, and attended lectures upon philosophy and psychology at -the Sorbonne or the Collège de France; but the long letters which he -used to write Saint-Gaudens every week became more and more the chief -business of his life. He kept his friend informed as to what was going -on in Paris; of the doings of their little circle of acquaintances; and -wrote him detailed descriptions of all important events in the world -of art, besides giving him a great deal of disinterested advice upon -every conceivable subject, including his work and the conduct of his -life. Saint-Gaudens used to reply at great length, but his letters were -destroyed, according to directions left in his friend's will. When the -news of Bion's death reached Saint-Gaudens, he wrote: - - "148 W. 36th St., Feb. 17th, 1897 - - "Of course the one thing on my mind, the terrible spectre that - looms up, is poor Bion's death; night and day, at all moments, it - comes over me like a wave that overwhelms me, and it takes away - all heart that I may have in anything. Today, however, I have had - a kind of sad feeling of companionship with him, that seems to - bring him to me, in working over the head of the flying figure of - the Shaw. The bronze founders are not ready for it yet. I have had - a stamp made of the figure and have helped it a great deal, I am - sure you will think. You know that Thayer told me he thought an - idea I once had of turning the head more profile, was a better one - than that I had evolved, and I've always wished to do it. It is - done, and it's the feeling of death and mystery and love in the - making of it that brought my friend back to me so much today.... - But the young, thank Heaven, do not feel these blows so profoundly - as do older people. In one of my blue fits the other day I felt - the end of all things, and reasoning from one thing to the other - and about the hopelessness of trying to fathom what it all means, - I reached this: that we know nothing, (of course) but a deep - conviction came over me like a flash that at the bottom of it all, - whatever it is, the mystery must be beneficent. It does not seem - as if the bottom of all were something malevolent; and the thought - was a great comfort. - - [Illustration: _Copley print, copyrighted by Curtis and Cameron_ - - MONUMENT TO COLONEL ROBERT GOULD SHAW, ERECTED AT BOSTON] - - "I shall be all the week at the figure. I've made an olive branch - instead of the palm,--it looks less 'Christian martyr'-like,--and - I have lightened and simplified the drapery a great deal. I had - not seen it for two or three months and I had a fresh impression. - - "At 27th Street I've finished the nude of the Sherman and next - week I begin to put his clothes on him. I had another day with the - model for the Victory last Sunday, and that, too, is progressing - rapidly. Zorn, the Swedish artist, was with me all day Sunday - making an etching of me while the model rested; it is an admirable - thing and I will send you a copy of it. - - "The studio is once more in a fearful condition with the casting - of the Logan, and the getting of the Puritan ready to photograph - and cast for the Boston Museum and to send abroad to have the - reductions made.... - - "This letter is no good, but it must go; the clatter of seven - moulders and sculptors does not help to the expression or the - development of thought, confusion only---- - - "Affectionately - A. ST.-G." - - "May 15th or 16th, 1897 - - "The Shaw goes to Boston on Thursday or Friday. I've done little - else lately but run around about it until I am frantic. On the - other hand, while waiting for some workmen yesterday, I had a - great walk in the Babylonian East Side here. It was a beautiful - day and one of great impressions. - - "I have not commenced the Howells medallion yet, as I expected to - be absent. I believe I told you I had a nice note from him. - - A. ST.-G." - - [Illustration: MURAL PLAQUE ERECTED IN MEMORY OF DR. JAMES McCOSH] - -The Shaw memorial was unveiled in Boston, in the latter part of May, -1897. The erection of the monument had been so long delayed that -Saint-Gaudens feared that the public had lost interest in the work, or -would expect too much and be disappointed. On the contrary, its success -was immediate, and made him very happy. Its appeal was to men of every -condition, laymen as well as artists, and nothing ever pleased the -sculptor more than the way it arrested the attention of almost every -passer-by. In June, scarcely a month after the unveiling of the Shaw, -another soldier's monument, the equestrian statue of General Logan, was -unveiled at Chicago, and Saint-Gaudens went there to be present at the -ceremony. - - [Illustration: STATUE OF PETER COOPER, NEW YORK] - - "1142 The Rookery, Chicago, June 23, 1897 - - "I am again at the top of this big building here, and I will - give you some description of the last 24 hours. At one o'clock - yesterday Mrs. Deering, Mrs. French, Mr. French (brother and - sister-in-law of Dan French) and I were placed in one carriage, - Mr. Deering, Mrs. St. G. and the editor of the 'Chicago Tribune' - in another, and in the wake of a lot of other carriages and - followed by a procession of them, we drove to the big stand. A - great day; with a high wind and glorious sun. I was put in one - of the seats in the Holy of Holies alongside of Mrs. Logan, - if you please, and the president of the ceremonies. A lot of - speeches, one of which was very good, and at the right moment the - complicated arrangement of flags dropped, the cannon fired, the - band played, Mrs. Logan wept, and I posed for a thousand snap - photographs, 'a gleam of triumph passed over my face,' think of - that! (vide 'Chicago Tribune'). - - [Illustration: THE LOGAN MONUMENT, ERECTED AT CHICAGO] - - "However, the monument looks impressive as I see it this morning - for the first time with much of the disfiguring scaffolding gone. - I stay here until Sunday, when I take the 5.30 P.M. train and - shall get to New York Monday at 6 or 7. Last night we went to a - great golf place where high merriment prevailed. This afternoon to - Fort Sheridan. Tonight a reception at the Art Institute; tomorrow - a lawn party at Burnham's and Sunday a visit to the great dredging - canal; on Monday the cars and rest." - -After the sculptor's return from Chicago, he continued his preparations -for departure in New York. - - "The Players, August 7, 1897 - - "Brander Matthews has just come and interrupted this with a long - and interesting talk on the conventional in art and an article he - has written and sent to Scribner's on it. You have often wondered - what I think about things--I wonder myself; I think anything and - everything. This seeing a subject so that I can side with either - side with equal sympathy and equal convictions I sometimes think a - weakness. Then again I'm thinking it a strength. - - "Last night I dined with X---- and Y---- and passed a delightful - evening with them. X---- cracked his constructed jokes and - manufactured his silversmith puns, and cackled over them. We - talked literature, English, French, and Taine's great work on - English literature. We afterward went to the open air concert - at the Madison Square Garden, and when we were not talking of - anything else we talked on that subject of eternal interest and - mystery 'les femmes.'" - -Finally, in the autumn of 1897, after both the Shaw and Logan monuments -had been unveiled, and various minor obstacles to his departure had -been removed, Saint-Gaudens was ready to leave America. Opposition to -his plan still came from every side. Many of his friends in New York -seemed to feel that he was casting a certain reproach upon his country -by his desire to profit by foreign criticism and to measure his work -by European standards. They prophesied that his work would deteriorate -under French influence. His few friends in Paris were equally -discouraging. They did not hesitate to warn him that if he persisted -in coming there he must be prepared to face indifference and failure. -Even Bion, when Saint-Gaudens had asked him to get the opinions of a -few French artists upon photographs of the Shaw memorial, had refused -to do so, saying: "I shan't show your photographs to anyone. Shiff, -MacMonnies, and Proctor have seen them, my poor old friend, and the -others do not know you. They are quite indifferent about what goes on -outside their own little show." - -Saint-Gaudens himself feared that he might be making a serious mistake. -The ocean voyage in itself was an ordeal to him, and before leaving -he wrote: "I continue fencing and am preparing for the voyage as one -prepares for a fight. I go to the theatre and that tides over the -blue hours which lie between dinner and bed-time." But he felt that -he must make the venture, whatever lay before him, and that he could -never be satisfied until he had stood the test of a comparison with -his chief contemporaries and until his work had been passed upon by -the most sophisticated and penetrating critics of art. At the end of -September, 1897, accompanied by his wife and his son, Homer, he sailed -for England. After crossing to France, he thus described his first -impressions: - - "Hotel Normandy, Paris, Nov. 7th, 1897 - - "The beauty of the scenery and of the English homes and villages - on the railroad from Southampton to London recalled the delightful - impression of the last trip, when I was so light-hearted. The - sense of order and thrift appealed to me strongly in comparison - with the shiftlessness of America. Then London with its - extraordinary impression of power and also of order. Homer and I - went to see Hamlet. Read it, R----. As I grow older, the greatness - of Shakspeare looms higher and higher; every line, every word is - so deep, so true, 'never offending the modesty of nature withal,' - as Hamlet himself advises the players. - - "From London we came on the following day to Paris. The country - between Calais and Dover seemed very grand; great rolling lands - with immense fields being ploughed in the waning day. The peace, - simplicity, and calm of it all was profoundly impressive. Just a - ploughman and a boy, alone in the country on a hillside, following - the horses and the plough along the deep, straight furrows; no - fences, a clear sky with the half moon, and only a small clump or - two of trees--all so orderly and grand." - -For the first few weeks in Paris Saint-Gaudens was miserable. His -studio, on the Rue de Bagneux, in the Latin Quarter, was large and -cheerful, with comfortable quarters adjoining for his assistants, and -he was extremely interested in his work upon the equestrian statue -of General Sherman. But he missed his old friends and haunts in New -York, the weather was gloomy and depressing, and he felt enervated and -homesick. Almost none of the friends of his student days were there to -welcome him back to Paris, and he was not in the mood to make new ones. -Dr. Shiff, a retired physician with a philosophic turn of mind, and -many years the sculptor's senior, was the only man he could count upon -for regular companionship, though occasionally an old friend like Henry -Adams, John Alexander, or Garnier would drop into the studio. John -Sargent was another warm friend who helped to keep up his spirits and -whom he admired intensely both as a man and as an artist. With Helleu, -the etcher, they enjoyed spending a day or two at Chartres and Rheims. -In the following letter he describes his first meeting with Whistler: - - "Paris, Nov. 16th, 1897 - - "Mac and I made a short call on Whistler, whom I found much more - human than I imagined him to be, and today I went to the Court of - Appeals where a trial of his was to come off--it didn't,--but I - had a delightful chat with him. He is a very attractive man with - very queer clothes, a kind of 1830 coat with an enormous collar - greater even than those of that period; a monocle, a strong jaw, - very frizzly hair with a white mesh in it, and an extraordinary - hat." - -The brightest spot in Saint-Gaudens' winter was his visit to the south -of France and to Italy, in the company of his friend Garnier, who, like -Bion, had been a fellow-student of his at the École des Beaux-Arts -years before. They left Paris in December, and went almost directly to -Aspet and Salies du Salat, Gascon villages where Saint-Gaudens' father -was born and where he worked at his trade as a young man. This was the -first time that Augustus Saint-Gaudens had visited that country on the -Spanish frontier where his paternal ancestors had lived for centuries -and where many of their name still survived. - - "Aspet, December, 1897 - - "I write this in the village where my father was born and - today has been one of the most delightful days of my life. I - have invited my old friend Garnier (a dear friend and the most - delightful of companions) to travel with me. We left Paris - yesterday morning and slept at Toulouse last night. We left there - this morning before dawn and saw the sun rise over the Pyrenees on - our way to Salies du Salat, a most picturesque and dirty village - at the foot of the beautiful mountains. I inquired at the station - if any Saint-Gaudens lived there. 'Yes, opposite the mairie.' We - walked up a narrow Spanish-looking street and there was a little - shoe-store and on it the sign 'Saint-Gaudens.' I woke my cousin - up. His is the very house where father passed his childhood. We - three walked over the town up to the cradle of the 'Comminges' - just back of father's house, and we went around on the sward and - on the old moat where the children now play and where his father - and my father played when children. I cannot describe to you how I - was moved by it all. - - "After a characteristic déjeuner with the cousin, a typical French - peasant, and his typical wife, we hired a wagon with two horses - and drove three hours into the mountains through a wonderfully - beautiful country, very Spanish in character, to this delightful - village. Here father was born, and baptized in the little church - right at hand from where I write. There are delightful fountains - at every corner and an air of thrift, order, and cleanliness that - you cannot imagine. We are in a nice hotel, a homelike place, and - tomorrow, after seeing Market Day, we walk to Saint-Gaudens, about - 12 miles from here. It is a most romantic spot; all the country - and the people here have a good deal of the Spanish dignity. We - are 30 miles from the frontier of Spain. I must stop now because - my third cousin (his grandfather and mine were brothers) is - coming. He is the postman of the village and the surrounding - country, a handsome young fellow who carries the mail around on - horseback, and who between times makes shoes." - -Leaving this out-of-the-way corner of Gascony, under the shadow of the -Pyrenees, Saint-Gaudens and Garnier traveled by Toulouse to Marseilles. -From this port the sculptor had sailed twenty-seven or eight years -before, when he first went to study in Rome. Now, with his old friend, -he again climbed up to where the church of Notre-Dame de la Garde -overlooks the Mediterranean, and was amused to remember the three -days he had spent upon that hill-top, with little to eat but figs and -chocolate, while awaiting the departure of his ship for Italy. - -The two artists went by train from Marseilles to Nice and Ventimiglia, -and then walked along the superb Cornice road to San Remo, conscious -that every step brought them nearer to their beloved Italy. The hills, -covered with palms and orange-trees, the sacred-looking groves of -gray-green olives detached against the deep blue of the sea, recalled -to Saint-Gaudens a story by Anatole France describing some early -Christians in an olive grove overlooking the Mediterranean. - -In Italy they stopped first at Pisa, and did not reach Rome much before -midnight. Regardless of fatigue, Saint-Gaudens insisted upon starting -out that night to revisit the favorite haunts of his student days, -taking the reluctant Garnier with him. At a late hour they ended their -excursion at the Café Greco, where the sculptor talked with a waiter -who had served him with coffee in 1871. The next morning they spent in -the gardens and the Bosco of the Villa Medici. Nothing seemed to them -much changed, and their happiness was as great as if they had found -their youth again in the land where they had left it. Saint-Gaudens -afterward said that on the night of that arrival in Rome he felt as if -he were slaking a great thirst. Before their return they also visited -the Bay of Naples. Vivid memories of Italy were present with the -sculptor until the end of his life, and during his last illness he said -that one thing he wished to live for was to take again the drive from -Salerno to Amalfi: the vineyards clinging to the hillsides, the cliffs -with the blue waves breaking at their base, haunted him as a vision of -exquisite beauty. - -Late in the winter Saint-Gaudens returned to Paris, and when spring -and the pleasant weather came on he was working again with great -enthusiasm, preparing for the Salon. His exhibit at the Champs de -Mars attracted much attention and elicited unexpected praise from the -severest French critics. - - "3, rue de Bagneux, Paris, May 16th, 1898 - - ... "I must be brief today for Dr. Shiff is coming in to talk, - and help me with his consoling philosophy as Bion did; and I must - work, for the model leaves shortly, and I must use him every hour - I can; so I will tell you briefly of what has happened. - - "This Paris experience, as far as my art goes, has been a great - thing for me. I never felt sure of myself before, I groped ahead. - All blindness seems to have been washed away. I see my place - clearly now, I know, or think I know, just where I stand. A great - self-confidence has come over me and a tremendous desire and will - to achieve high things, with a confidence that I shall, has taken - possession of me. I exhibited at the Champs de Mars and the papers - have spoken well and it seems as if I were having what they call - a 'success' here. I send you some of the extracts from several of - the principal artistic papers here, the 'Gazette des Beaux-Arts,' - 'Art et Décoration,' and from the 'Dictionaire Encyclopédique - Larousse'; four of these have asked permission to reproduce my - work. The Director of the Luxembourg tells me he wishes something - of mine, and other friends have asked that I be given the Legion - of Honour. Of this latter you must say nothing, and I only speak - of it to give you a true idea of what impressions I am undergoing. - - "For four months it rained incessantly, but the great interest of - preparing for the Salon has interested me. The sunshine has been a - blessing, and Paris, with her smiles and green dress and the blue - skies overhead captivates like a beautiful woman. - - "There is something in the air here which pushes one to do - beautiful things; it seems something actually atmospheric, - something soft and gentle in the air.... Later Sargent came in - very good spirits. We dined and went to the theatre together - last night. He wished me to tell him when I go to London, as the - fellows there wish to give me a great 'blow off.' And so it all - goes; the sun is now pouring into the studio, and it all seems - like a great dream." - -The article in _Art et Décoration_ to which Saint-Gaudens refers was -written by Paul Leprieur. After attacking with great severity Rodin's -"Balzac," the critic said: - -"The more completely to forget this sinister vision, one may well -linger before the work of a great sculptor, almost unknown among -us, who reveals himself to us, so to speak, for the first time, -with an altogether remarkable collection of monumental sculpture -and photographs of monuments previously executed. We refer to M. -Saint-Gaudens, an Irishman by birth, who has worked mainly for America, -and who was, if I mistake not, the teacher of Mr. MacMonnies--a teacher -far superior to his pupil. His exhibit is one of the surprises and -delights of the Champs de Mars. - -"Had we only the photographs which he shows us--whether of his Peter -Cooper, his President Lincoln, the noble and serious allegorical figure -for a tomb, called the Peace of God, or the charming caryatid for the -Vanderbilt house--we could already perceive the grasp of composition, -the decision of the contours, the depth of the sentiment expressed -without any splurge or noise. This sculpture, in its acceptance, or -ingenious re-shaping, of traditions from ancient sources, as well as in -its modern inventiveness, imparts a savor of intimate charm, of dignity -without parade, which are rare indeed in our day. - -"The actual work exhibited simply confirms the impression of the -photographs. To say nothing of the placques and medallions, models of -a fine funeral bas-relief, and the highly entertaining and picturesque -statue of a Puritan, the large high-relief dedicated to the memory -of Colonel Robert Gould Shaw may well be esteemed as a model of -intelligent decoration. - -"The idea of representing, not the death scene itself, but the moment -preceding it, and of showing the army of blacks, led by the white -officer, filing by as if in a march to death, grave of mien, solemn, -and heroic, is as novel as it is boldly treated. While presenting -prodigies of skill (absolutely without triviality or pettiness in -matters of detail), and modeled with a great freedom and understanding -of how to arrange the various groups of lines in perspective,--which -all men of his profession will admire,--everything is kept subordinate -to the ensemble and to the predetermined unity of motion. Upon each -of the faces one feels more or less the reflection of the motto of -self-sacrifice and enthusiastic faith inscribed on a flat surface in -the background (Omnia relinquit servare rem publicam), and the superb -figure of a woman with flying drapery, symbolical of glory or of death, -comparable to the loveliest creations in this style by Watts or Gustave -Moreau, succeeds in giving to this very sculpturesque composition a -distinguished moral significance." - -Two months later the critic Léonce Benedite, in his article on the -salons of 1898, wrote, in the _Gazette des Beaux-Arts_: - -"It is a foreign sculptor, an American artist whose name alone had -previously reached us, M. Augustus Saint-Gaudens, who affords us an -example of a commemorative monument composed of modern elements and -broadly executed in the simplest and purest sculptural spirit. Half -French, not only by descent, but by his whole education, trained in our -school,--which he honors today,--the illustrious chief of the future -American school of sculpture has produced numerous beautiful works in -his own country. Photographic reproductions of these accompany his -exhibited works and demonstrate their rare dignity and grandeur of -style. His beautiful mortuary statues, one of which is on exhibition at -the Salon, together with the caryatid of the Vanderbilt house--long and -slender, with beautiful, severe draperies--are figures of distinguished -elegance, of austere grace. - -"But above all, the statues of President Lincoln and Peter Cooper, the -mural tablets of Dr. McCosh and Dr. Bellows, show us with how exalted -an appreciation of his art the American master has succeeded in making -the most of the complete modernity of his subjects. To be sure, he has -not misrepresented the characteristic local physiognomy of his models, -or the unique effect of the accessories of costume and furniture; far -from it. But with what elegance and vigor he makes them all speak to -one, from the skirt of the coat to the slightest fold of the trousers! - -"We find ourselves face to face with a powerful and self-restrained -master, who is able to comprehend and to express emotion, who speaks a -simple but expressive language, and who has the power to convince and -to fascinate. The monument to Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, erected at -Boston, and exhibited in plaster at the Salon, affords us a striking -proof of this. It is a large high-relief, set in a graceful and -exceedingly simple architectural frame. In the center a young officer, -mounted, sword in hand, is leading a company of black soldiers who -are marching by his side, musket on shoulder, with a drummer at their -head. In the upper field floats a grave and melancholy figure, flying -horizontally; it is Duty, and with a sweeping and eloquently mournful -gesture she points out to them the road leading to glory and to -death. The measured march of the men, the expression of resigned and -submissive gravity on the faces of those colored troops, contrasting -with the proud, absorbed energy of the young white man who leads -them, his beautiful young steed nervous and quivering, emphasizes -yet more the restrained enthusiasm and patient determination of the -commander. All this, and even the sculptural comprehension of all this -paraphernalia of war, impresses one simply yet powerfully, and holds -one enthralled by its genuine epic grandeur." - - "June 14th, Paris - - "I am going to stay alone in Paris and on Sundays go and see Brush - and Garnier and the Proctors and go to St. Moritz for a week or - ten days; further than that I have no plans.... I see Shiff every - other night and dine with him then; occasionally I see F----, - whom I rather like. I'm working hard but slowly. I want a little - rest, so in two days I go to London to see the exhibit there; - besides, Sargent gives me a dinner on the 20th. Paris is really - a wonderfully attractive city and the 'cut' atmosphere, to use - a very unpleasant phrase, is clearly a great thing. There can - never be more than a few big men that one respects, but there are - so many people deeply interested in art, literature and music, - so many that are working hard, that you feel a great deal of - intelligence around you in the direction in which you are working, - beside the unusual amount of general intelligence which surrounds - one." - -Toward the end of June Saint-Gaudens and his family went to England. -In London, Sargent, always hospitable, gave a dinner to introduce -Saint-Gaudens to many distinguished sculptors and painters. -Burne-Jones, unfortunately, had died a few days before. Saint-Gaudens -had always admired his work greatly, and treasured photographs of his -pictures. - -After two days at Broadway with Edwin Abbey, the family separated. -Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer then returned to Paris for the summer, -while Mrs. Saint-Gaudens went to take a cure at Vichy and St. Moritz. -During that summer in Paris Saint-Gaudens saw as much as possible -of George De Forest Brush and his family, who were then living near -Fontainebleau. His intimacy with the Brushes dated back to his student -days in Paris, and had been kept up in America. The two families had -often been neighbors at Cornish, New Hampshire. Indeed, the Brushes had -spent their first summer there encamped in an Indian "tepee," which was -pitched on the edge of a field in front of the Saint-Gaudens' house. -Their life always impressed every one as singularly beautiful and -happy, and their presence so near Paris helped Saint-Gaudens to get -through the long, dull weeks of the summer. - - "Paris, July 10th or 11th - - "Lately I have had a great time with X----, driving and lunching - with him and sometimes with the ladies, going to Versailles and - the museums. Next Sunday we go to Chantilly, another day to - Dampierre where Rude's great statue of Louis (XIII, I think) is. - We go to the Cluny, to the Louvre, and sit sipping in front of - cafés, X---- telling me how much the woman question from one point - of view troubles him and I doing the same from another, and the - big world turns round, and we all suffer, and men fight, and women - mourn. Courage and love is what we all need, isn't it? - - "Yesterday I went with Homer to Fontainebleau to see Brush and - Proctor who live near there at 'Marlotte Montigny.' The day was - fine, and I enjoyed it greatly, particularly the walk with Brush - and his two lovely eldest children. How remarkable Brush is! All - the children are so beautiful and nice-mannered. He has commenced - another picture of his wife, this time with all the children and - himself, and it is already a stimulating thing, the composition is - so fine and what there is of it that is drawn, is so splendidly - drawn." - - "Paris, July 14th - - "It is the third or fourth really fine day that we have had - since coming to France eight months ago. The whole city is alive - with sunshine, a sky with white floating clouds, and every place - brilliant with flags, and there is an unusual feeling of peace in - this big studio as I sit alone in it and write to you. - - "I have your letter with the enclosure from the _Transcript_. - 'That's the way things is,' as Bryant said to me. I send you some - more Hosannahs in my honour by this mail, and there is going to be - more still in the 'Gazette des Beaux-Arts,' as I judge from the - way Ary Renan talked to me the other night. He is son of the great - Renan and is one of the editors of the 'Gazette des Beaux-Arts' - and wished to meet me so much that Pallier, another critic, asked - us to dine with him night before last. Pallier is the one who - wrote the long article in the Liberté about me. - - "You speak of Browning--I shall read the 'Ring and the Book,' but - unless a man's style is clear I am too lazy and I have too little - time to devote to digging gold out of the rocks, fine as it may - be. On the other hand I got the Schopenhauer that Shiff spoke - about with the intention of sending it to you, but it is so deadly - in its pessimism, judging from the ten or eleven lines that I - read, that I flung it away. It was so terribly true from his point - of view, but what's the use of taking that point of view? We can't - remedy matters by weeping and gnashing our teeth over the misery - of things. 'That's the way things is' again, and although I have - been told all my life it's best to put on a brave face and bear - all cheerfully, it's only lately that it is really coming into my - philosophy. - - "It seems as if we are all in one open boat on the ocean, - abandoned and drifting no one knows where, and while doing all - we can to get somewhere, it is better to be cheerful than to be - melancholy; the latter does not help the situation, and the former - cheers up one's comrades. - - "Michel, a friend of mine, had a beautiful nude marble bought for - the Luxembourg, a pure noble chaste figure. There was a remarkable - statuette by Gerôme, two or three other good things in sculpture - and the same among the objets d'art, and one swell thing in - painting, the Puvis de Chavannes. _That_ appealed to me, but of - course there were a lot of other very fine things, by Aman Jean, - Henri Martin, Besnard and others. I send you some publications - with the good things marked. I think if the Champs-Elysées were - sifted there would be more good work found in it or as much as at - the Champs de Mars. It is remarkable how much good work is done in - Paris, but the first impression is bad, as the good is concealed - in such a mountain of trash; but it's like gold in a mountain." - - "Paris, July 24th - - "Last night I dined with an old 'camarade d'atelier' at his home - in the Cité Boileau at Passy and it was a great pleasure to be - with him, one of the nicest kind of Frenchmen, a sculptor who - is doing admirable work, a man of calm manners and large views, - intensely interested in his work. His wife and three children - are by the seaside, and on their return, if Homer does not go to - America and I remain too, I'm looking forward to Homer's meeting - his children. His boy, who is seventeen, is going to work in his - atelier with him. It was delightful, as he took one through the - rooms of his three children, to see the photographs of admirable - works of art they had selected to hang on the walls. He has a - house with a garden and we dined outside. (His name is) Lenoir - and he is the son of a distinguished architect and grandson of a - Lenoir whose bust is erected in the Cour des Beaux-Arts, a man - of great distinction here on account of his love of art and his - efforts to prevent the Revolutionists in 1795 from destroying the - public monuments." - -Early in August, while his wife was still away, Saint-Gaudens took his -son Homer to Holland, where they had a delightful trip, extending to -the quaint dead cities of the north. Ten days or so after their return -to Paris they made another successful expedition together to join some -friends at the sea-shore. - - "3 rue de Bagneux, Paris, Aug. 26. - - "It was intensely hot in Paris. I discovered that the Brushes were - at Boulogne as well as the Proctors, so off we packed and we have - had a great time, what with bathing and lolling all day on the - cliffs, which I adore doing. The two Mears sisters followed us - down there, and we, the Brushes, Proctors, Mears, babies, and all - started off in the mornings, and, with the luncheon mixed up with - the babies in the carriage, passed most delightful days, either on - the cliffs or by the shore." - -Saint-Gaudens, however, could never be happy long away from his work, -and he was soon writing from his studio again. - - "Paris, Sept. 2d - - "A Russian professor at one of the Universities here has sent me - his translation of Tolstoi's last work 'What is Art?' and has - asked me (with highly eulogistic terms about what I have done, in - an inscription on the fly leaf) to give him my opinion, which he - wishes to publish with those of other men of note. So I am in for - reading it. You read it too, please, and tell me what you think - of it, then I'll sign it and send it as my opinion! For I have - no opinion, or so many that trying to put them into shape would - result in driving me into the mad-house sooner than I am naturally - destined to be there. Yes, 5000 different points of view that are - possible. After all, we are like lots of microscopical microbes on - this infinitesimal ball in space, and all these discussions seem - humourous at times. I suppose that every earnest effort toward - great sincerity or honesty or beauty in one's production is a drop - added to the ocean of evolution, to the Something higher that I - suppose we are rising slowly (d----d slowly) to, and all the other - discussions upon the subject seem simply one way of helping the - seriousness of it all. - - "Shiff's letter that I enclose is in reply to one asking whether - the professor's request was all right and whether I should bother - about it. In answer he wrote that the Russian was a very serious - man who had done admirable work. I once told Shiff that at times - I thought that 'beauty must mean at least some goodness'--that - explains part of his letter to me." - -TO BE CONCLUDED IN NOVEMBER - - [Illustration] - - - - - [Illustration] - -THURNLEY ABBEY - -BY PERCEVAL LANDON - - -Three years ago I was on my way out to the East, and as an extra day -in London was of some importance, I took the Friday evening mail train -to Brindisi instead of the usual Thursday morning Marseilles express. -Many people shrink from the long forty-eight-hour train journey -through Europe, and the subsequent rush across the Mediterranean on -the nineteen-knot _Isis_ or the _Osiris_; but there is really very -little discomfort on either the train or the mail-boat, and unless -there is actually nothing for me to do, I always like to save the extra -day and a half in London before I say good-bye to her for one of my -longer tramps. This time--it was early, I remember, in the shipping -season, probably about the beginning of September--there were few -passengers, and I had a compartment in the P. and O. Indian express to -myself all the way from Calais. All Sunday I watched the blue waves -dimpling the Adriatic, and the pale rosemary along the cuttings; the -plain white towns, with their flat roofs and their bold "duomos," and -the gray-green gnarled olive orchards of Apulia. The journey was just -like any other. We ate in the dining-car as often and as long as we -decently could. We slept after luncheon; we dawdled the afternoon away -with yellow-backed novels; sometimes we exchanged platitudes in the -smoking-room, and it was there that I met Alistair Colvin. - -Colvin was a man of middle height, with a resolute, well-cut jaw; his -hair was turning gray; his mustache was sun-whitened, otherwise he was -clean-shaven--obviously a gentleman, and obviously also a preoccupied -man. He had no great wit. When spoken to, he made the usual remarks in -the right way, and I dare say he refrained from banalities only because -he spoke less than the rest of us; most of the time he buried himself -in the Wagonlit Company's Time-table, but seemed unable to concentrate -his attention on any one page of it. He found that I had been over the -Siberian railway, and for a quarter of an hour he discussed it with -me. Then he lost interest in it, and rose to go to his compartment. -But he came back again very soon, and seemed glad to pick up the -conversation again. - -Of course this did not seem to me to be of any importance. Most -travelers by train become a trifle infirm of purpose after thirty-six -hours' rattling. But Colvin's restless way I noticed in somewhat marked -contrast with the man's personal importance and dignity; especially -ill suited was it to his finely made large hand with strong, broad, -regular nails and its few lines. As I looked at his hand I noticed a -long, deep, and recent scar of ragged shape. However, it is absurd to -pretend that I thought anything was unusual. I went off at five o'clock -on Sunday afternoon to sleep away the hour or two that had still to be -got through before we arrived at Brindisi. - -Once there, we few passengers transhipped our hand baggage, verified -our berths--there were only a score of us in all--and then, after an -aimless ramble of half an hour in Brindisi, we returned to dinner at -the Hôtel International, not wholly surprised that the town had been -the death of Virgil. If I remember rightly, there is a gaily painted -hall at the International--I do not wish to advertise anything, but -there is no other place in Brindisi at which to await the coming of the -mails--and after dinner I was looking with awe at a trellis overgrown -with blue vines, when Colvin moved across the room to my table. He -picked up _Il Secolo_, but almost immediately gave up the pretense of -reading it. He turned squarely to me and said: - -"Would you do me a favor?" - -One doesn't do favors to stray acquaintances on Continental expresses -without knowing something more of them than I knew of Colvin. But I -smiled in a noncommittal way, and asked him what he wanted. I wasn't -wrong in part of my estimate of him; he said bluntly: - -"Will you let me sleep in your cabin on the _Osiris_?" And he colored a -little as he said it. - -Now, there is nothing more tiresome than having to put up with a -stable-companion at sea, and I asked him rather pointedly: - -"Surely there is room for all of us?" I thought that perhaps he had -been partnered off with some mangy Levantine, and wanted to escape from -him at all hazards. - -Colvin, still somewhat confused, said: "Yes; I am in a cabin by myself. -But you would do me the greatest favor if you would allow me to share -yours." - -This was all very well, but, besides the fact that I always sleep -better when alone, there had been some recent thefts on board these -boats, and I hesitated, frank and honest and self-conscious as Colvin -was. Just then the mail-train came in with a clatter and a rush of -escaping steam, and I asked him to see me again about it on the boat -when we started. He answered me curtly--I suppose he saw the mistrust -in my manner--"I am a member of White's and the Beefsteak." I smiled -to myself as he said it, but I remembered in a moment that the man--if -he were really what he claimed to be, and I make no doubt that he -was--must have been sorely put to it before he urged the fact as a -guarantee of his respectability to a total stranger at a Brindisi hotel. - -That evening, as we cleared the red and green harbor-lights of -Brindisi, Colvin explained. This is his story in his own words: - -"When I was traveling in India some years ago, I made the acquaintance -of a youngish man in the Woods and Forests. We camped out together for -a week, and I found him a pleasant companion. John Broughton was a -light-hearted soul when off duty, but a steady and capable man in any -of the small emergencies that continually arise in that department. He -was liked and trusted by the natives, and his future was well assured -in Government service, when a fair-sized estate was unexpectedly left -to him, and he joyfully shook the dust of the Indian plains from his -feet and returned to England. For five years he drifted about London. -I saw him now and then. We dined together about every eighteen months, -and I could trace pretty exactly the gradual sickening of Broughton -with a merely idle life. He then set out on a couple of long voyages, -returned as restless as before, and at last told me that he had decided -to marry and settle down at his place, Thurnley Abbey, which had long -been empty. He spoke about looking after the property and standing -for his constituency in the usual way. He was quite happy and full of -information about his future. - -"Among other things, I asked him about Thurnley Abbey. He confessed -that he hardly knew the place. The last tenant, a man called Clarke, -had lived in one wing for fifteen years and seen no one. He had been -a miser and a hermit. It was the rarest thing for a light to be seen -at the Abbey after dark. Only the barest necessities of life were -ordered, and the tenant himself received them at the side-door. His -one half-caste man-servant, after a month's stay in the house, had -abruptly left without warning, and had returned to the Southern States. -One thing Broughton complained bitterly about: Clarke had wilfully -spread the rumor among the villagers that the Abbey was haunted, and -had even condescended to play childish tricks with spirit-lamps and -salt in order to scare trespassers away at night. He had been detected -in the act of this tomfoolery, but the story spread, and no one, said -Broughton, would venture near the house except in broad daylight. The -hauntedness of Thurnley Abbey was now, he said with a grin, part of -the gospel of the countryside, but he and his young wife were going to -change all that. Would I propose myself any time I liked? I, of course, -said I would, and equally, of course, intended to do nothing of the -sort without a definite invitation. - -"The house was put in thorough repair, though not a stick of the old -furniture and tapestry were removed. Floors and ceilings were relaid; -the roof was made watertight again, and the dust of half a century was -scoured out. He showed me some photographs of the place. It was called -an Abbey, though as a matter of fact it had been only the infirmary of -the long-vanished Abbey of Closter some five miles away. The larger -part of this building remained as it had been in pre-Reformation days, -but a wing had been added in Jacobean times, and that part of the -house had been kept in something like repair by Mr. Clarke. He had in -both the ground and the first floors set a heavy timber door, strongly -barred with iron, in the passage between the earlier and the Jacobean -parts of the house, and had entirely neglected the former. So there had -been a good deal of work to be done. - -"Broughton, whom I saw in London two or three times about this time, -made a deal of fun over the positive refusal of the workmen to remain -after sundown. Even after the electric light had been put into every -room, nothing would induce them to remain, though, as Broughton -observed, electric light was death on ghosts. The legend of the Abbey's -ghosts had gone far and wide, and the men would take no risks. On the -whole, though nothing of any sort or kind had been conjured up even -by their heated imaginations during their five months' work upon the -Abbey, the belief in the ghosts was rather strengthened than otherwise -in Thurnley because of the men's confessed nervousness, and local -tradition declared itself in favor of the ghost of an immured nun. - -"'Good old nun!' said Broughton. - -"I asked him whether in general he believed in the possibility of -ghosts, and, rather to my surprise, he said that he couldn't say he -entirely disbelieved in them. A man in India had told him one morning -in camp that he believed that his mother was dead in England, as her -vision had come to his tent the night before. He had not been alarmed, -but had said nothing, and the figure vanished again. As a matter of -fact, the next possible dak-walla brought on a telegram announcing the -mother's death. 'There the thing was,' said Broughton. - -"'My own idea,' said he, 'is that if a ghost ever does come in one's -way, one ought to speak to it.' - -"I agreed. Little as I knew of the ghost world and its conventions, -I had already remembered that a spook was in honor bound to wait to -be spoken to. It didn't seem much to do, and I felt that the sound -of one's own voice would at any rate reassure oneself as to one's -wakefulness. But there are few ghosts outside Europe--few, that is, -that a white man can see--and I had never been troubled with any. -However, as I have said, I told Broughton that I agreed. - -"So the wedding took place and I went to it in a tall hat which I -bought for the occasion, and the new Mrs. Broughton smiled very nicely -at me afterwards. As it had to happen, I took the Orient Express that -evening and was not in England again for nearly six months. Just before -I came back I got a letter from Broughton. He asked if I could see him -in London or come to Thurnley, as he thought I should be better able -to help him than any one else he knew. His wife sent a nice message to -me at the end, so I was reassured about at least one thing. I wrote -from Budapest that I would come and see him at Thurnley two days after -my arrival in London, and as I sauntered out of the Pannonia into the -Kerepesi Ut to post my letters, I wondered of what earthly service I -could be to Broughton. I had been out with him after tiger on foot, -and I could imagine few men better able at a pinch to manage their own -business. However, I had nothing to do, so after dealing with some -small accumulations of business during my absence, I packed a kit-bag -and departed to Euston. - -"I was met by a trap at Thurnley Road station, and after a drive of -nearly seven miles we echoed through the sleepy streets of Thurnley -village, into which the main gates of the park thrust themselves, -splendid with pillars and spread-eagles and tom-cats rampant atop of -them. From the gates a quadruple avenue of beech-trees led inwards for -a quarter of a mile. Beneath them a neat strip of fine turf edged the -road and ran back until the poison of the dead beech-leaves had killed -it under the trees. There were many wheel-tracks on the road, and a -comfortable little pony trap jogged past me laden with a country parson -and his wife and daughter. Evidently there was some garden party going -on at the Abbey. The road dropped away to the right at the end of the -avenue, and I could see the Abbey across a wide pasturage and a broad -lawn thickly dotted with guests. - -"The end of the building was plain. It must have been almost -mercilessly austere when it was first built, but time had crumbled the -edges and toned the stone down to an orange-lichened gray wherever it -showed behind its curtain of magnolia, jasmine, and ivy. Farther on -was the three-storied Jacobean house, plain and handsome. There had -not been the slightest attempt to adapt the one to the other, but the -kindly ivy had glossed over the touching-point. There was a tall flèche -in the middle of the building, surmounting a small bell tower. Behind -the house there rose the mountainous verdure of Spanish chestnuts all -the way up the hill. - -"Broughton had seen me coming from afar, and walked across from his -other guests to welcome me before turning me over to the butler's care. -This man was sandy-haired and rather inclined to be talkative. He -could, however, answer hardly any questions about the house: he had, he -said, only been there three weeks. Mindful of what Broughton had told -me, I made no inquiries about ghosts, though the room into which I was -shown might have justified anything. It was a very large low room with -oak beams projecting from the white ceiling. Every inch of the walls, -including the doors, was covered with tapestry, and a remarkably fine -Italian fourpost bedstead, heavily draped, added to the darkness and -dignity of the place. All the furniture was old, well made, and dark. -Underfoot there was a plain green pile carpet, the only new thing about -the room except the electric light fittings and the jugs and basins. -Even the looking-glass on the dressing-table was an old pyramidal -Venetian glass set in heavy repoussé frame of tarnished silver. - -"After a few minutes cleaning up, I went downstairs and out upon the -lawn, where I greeted my hostess. The people gathered there were of -the usual country type, all anxious to be pleased and roundly curious -as to the new master of the Abbey. Rather to my surprise, and quite to -my pleasure, I rediscovered Glenham, whom I had known well in old days -in Barotseland: he lived quite close, as, he remarked with a grin, I -ought to have known. 'But,' he added, 'I don't live in a place like -this.' He swept his hand to the long, low lines of the Abbey in obvious -admiration, and then, to my intense interest, muttered beneath his -breath, 'Thank God!' He saw that I had overheard him, and turning to me -said decidedly, 'Yes, thank God I said, and I meant I wouldn't live at -the Abbey for all Broughton's money.' - -"'But surely,' I demurred, 'you know that old Clarke was discovered in -the very act of setting light to his bug-a-boos?' - -"Glenham shrugged his shoulders. 'Yes, I know about that. But there is -something wrong with the place still. All I can say is that Broughton -is a different man since he has lived here. I don't believe that he -will remain much longer. But--you're staying here?--Well, you'll -hear all about it to-night. There's a big dinner, I understand.' The -conversation turned off to old reminiscences, and Glenham soon after -had to go. - -"Before I went to dress that evening I had twenty minutes' talk with -Broughton in his library. There was no doubt that the man was altered, -gravely altered. He was nervous and fidgety, and I found him looking at -me only when my eye was off him. I naturally asked him what he wanted -of me. I told him I would do anything I could, but that I couldn't -conceive what he lacked that I could provide. He said with a lustreless -smile that there was, however, something, and that he would tell me the -following morning. It struck me that he was somehow ashamed of himself, -and perhaps ashamed of the part he was asking me to play. However, I -dismissed the subject from my mind and went up to dress in my palatial -room. As I shut the door a draught blew out the Queen of Sheba from the -wall, and I noticed that the tapestries were not fastened to the wall -at the bottom. I have always held very practical views about spooks, -and it has often seemed to me that the slow waving in firelight of -loose tapestry upon a wall would account for ninety-nine per cent of -the stories one hears, and certainly the dignified undulation of this -lady with her attendants and huntsmen--one of whom was untidily cutting -the throat of a fallow deer upon the very steps on which King Solomon, -a gray-faced Flemish nobleman with the order of the Golden Fleece, -awaited his fair visitor--gave color to my hypothesis. - -"Nothing much happened at dinner. The people were very much like those -of the garden party. After the ladies had gone, I found myself talking -to the rural dean. He was a thin, earnest man, who at once turned the -conversation to old Clarke's buffooneries. But, he said, Mr. Broughton -had introduced such a new and cheerful spirit, not only into the Abbey, -but, he might say, into the whole neighborhood, that he had great -hopes that the ignorant superstitions of the past were from henceforth -destined to oblivion. Thereupon his other neighbor, a portly gentleman -of independent means and position, audibly remarked 'Amen,' which -damped the rural dean, and we talked of partridges past, partridges -present, and pheasants to come. At the other end of the table Broughton -sat with a couple of his friends, red-faced hunting men. Once I noticed -that they were discussing me, but I paid no attention to it at the -time. I remembered it a few hours later. - -"By eleven all the guests were gone, and Broughton, his wife, and I -were alone together under the fine plaster ceiling of the Jacobean -drawing-room. Mrs. Broughton talked about one or two of the neighbors, -and then, with a smile, said that she knew I would excuse her, shook -hands with me, and went off to bed. I am not very good at analyzing -things, but I felt that she talked a little uncomfortably and with a -suspicion of effort, smiled rather conventionally, and was obviously -glad to go. These things seem trifling enough to repeat, but I had -throughout the faint feeling that everything was not square. Under the -circumstances, this was enough to set me wondering what on earth the -service could be that I was to render--wondering also whether the whole -business were not some ill-advised jest in order to make me come down -from London for a mere shooting party. - -"Broughton said little after she had gone. But he was evidently -laboring to bring the conversation round to the so-called haunting -of the Abbey. As soon as I saw this, of course I asked him directly -about it. He then seemed at once to lose interest in the matter. There -was no doubt about it: Broughton was somehow a changed man, and to my -mind he had changed in no way for the better. Mrs. Broughton seemed no -sufficient cause. He was clearly very fond of her, and she of him. I -reminded him that he was going to tell me what I could do for him in -the morning, pleaded my journey, lighted a candle, and went upstairs -with him. At the end of the passage leading into the old house he -grinned weakly and said, 'Mind, if you see a ghost, do talk to it; you -said you would,' He stood irresolutely a moment and then turned away. -At the door of his dressing-room he paused a moment: 'I'm here,' he -called out, 'if you should want anything. Good-night,' and he shut his -door. - -"I went along the passage to my room, undressed, switched on a lamp -beside my bed, read a few pages of the _Jungle Book_, and then, more -than ready for sleep, switched the light off and went fast asleep. - - * * * * * - -"Three hours later I woke up. There was not a breath of wind outside. -It was so silent that my ears found employment in listening for the -throbbing of the blood within them. There was not even a flicker of -light from the fireplace. As I lay there, an ash tinkled slightly -as it cooled, but there was hardly a gleam of the dullest red in the -grate. An owl cried among the silent Spanish chestnuts on the slope -outside. I idly reviewed the events of the day, hoping that I should -fall off to sleep again before I reached dinner. But at the end I -seemed as wakeful as ever. There was no help for it. I must read my -_Jungle Book_ again till I felt ready to go off, so I fumbled for -the pear at the end of the cord that hung down inside the bed, and I -switched on the bedside lamp. The sudden glory dazzled me for a moment. -I felt under my pillow for my book with half-shut eyes. Then, growing -used to the light, I happened to look down to the foot of my bed. - - * * * * * - -"I can never tell you really what happened then. Nothing I could ever -confess in the most abject words could even faintly picture to you -what I felt. I know that my heart stopped dead, and my throat shut -automatically. In one instinctive movement I crouched back up against -the head-boards of the bed, staring at the horror. The movement set my -heart going again, and the sweat dripped from every pore. I am not a -particularly religious man, but I had always believed that God would -never allow any supernatural appearance to present itself to man in -such a guise and in such circumstances that harm, either bodily or -mental, could result to him. I can only tell you that at that moment -both my life and my reason rocked unsteadily on their seats." - -The other _Osiris_ passengers had gone to bed. Only he and I remained -leaning over the starboard railing, which rattled uneasily now and then -under the fierce vibration of the over-engined mail-boat. Far over, -there were the lights of a few fishing-smacks riding out the night, and -a great rush of white combing and seething water fell out and away from -us overside. - -At last Colvin went on: - -"Leaning over the foot of my bed, looking at me, was a figure swathed -in a rotten and tattered veiling. This shroud passed over the head, but -left both eyes and the right side of the face bare. It then followed -the line of the arm down to where the hand grasped the bed-end. The -face was not that entirely of a skull, though the eyes and the flesh of -the face were totally gone, There was a thin, dry skin drawn tightly -over the features, and there was some skin left on the hand. One wisp -of hair crossed the forehead. It was perfectly still. I looked at it, -and it looked at me, and my brains turned dry and hot in my head. I -had still got the pear of the electric lamp in my hand, and I played -idly with it; only I dared not turn the light out again. I shut my -eyes, only to open them in a hideous terror the same second. The thing -had not moved. My heart was thumping, and the sweat cooled me as it -evaporated. Another cinder tinkled in the grate, and a panel creaked in -the wall. - -"My reason failed me. For twenty minutes, or twenty seconds, I was -able to think of nothing else but this awful figure, till there came, -hurtling through the empty channels of my senses, the remembrance that -Broughton and his friends had discussed me furtively at dinner. The dim -possibility of it being a hoax stole gratefully into my unhappy mind, -and once there, one's pluck came creeping back along a thousand tiny -veins. My first sensation was one of blind unreasoning thankfulness -that my brain was going to stand the trial. I am not a timid man, -but the best of us needs some human handle to steady him in time of -extremity, and in this faint but growing hope that after all it might -be only a brutal hoax, I found the fulcrum that I needed. At last I -moved. - -"How I managed to do it, I cannot tell you, but with one spring -towards the foot of the bed I got within arm's length and struck out -one fearful blow with my fist at the thing. It crumbled under it, and -my hand was cut to the bone. With the sickening revulsion after my -terror, I dropped half-fainting across the end of the bed. So it was -merely a foul trick after all. No doubt the trick had been played many -a time before: no doubt Broughton and his friends had had some bet -among themselves as to what I should do when I discovered the gruesome -thing. From my state of abject terror I found myself transported into -an insensate anger. I shouted curses upon Broughton. I dived rather -than climbed over the bed-end on to the sofa. I tore at the robed -skeleton--how well the whole thing had been carried out, I thought--I -broke the skull against the floor, and stamped upon its dry bones. I -flung the head away under the bed, and rent the brittle bones of the -trunk in pieces. I snapped the thin thigh-bones across my knee, and -flung them in different directions. The shin-bones I set up against -a stool and broke with my heel. I raged like a Berserker against the -loathly thing, and stripped the ribs from the backbone and slung the -breastbone against the cupboard. My fury increased as the work of -destruction went on. I tore the frail rotten veil into twenty pieces, -and the dust went up over everything, over the clean blotting-paper and -the silver inkstand. At last my work was done. There was but a raffle -of broken bones and strips of parchment and crumbling wool. Then, -picking up a piece of the skull--it was the cheek and temple bone of -the right side, I remember--I opened the door and went down the passage -to Broughton's dressing-room. I remember still how my sweat-dripping -pajamas clung to me as I walked. At the door I kicked and entered. - -"Broughton was in bed. He had already turned the light on and seemed -shrunken and horrified. For a moment he could hardly pull himself -together. Then I spoke. I don't know what I said. Only I know that from -a heart full and over-full with hatred and contempt, spurred on by -shame of my own recent cowardice, I let my tongue run on. He answered -nothing. I was amazed at my own fluency. My hair still clung lankily -to my wet temples, my hand was bleeding profusely, and I must have -looked a strange sight. Broughton huddled himself up at the head of -the bed just as I had. Still he made no answer, no defence. He seemed -preoccupied with something besides my reproaches, and once or twice -moistened his lips with his tongue. But he could say nothing, though he -moved his hands now and then, just as a baby who cannot speak moves his -hands. - -"At last the door into Mrs. Broughton's room opened and she came in, -white and terrified. 'What is it? What is it? Oh, in God's name! what -is it?' she cried again and again, and then she went up to her husband -and sat on the bed; and the two faced me in speechless terror. I told -her what the matter was. I spared her husband not a word for her -presence there. Yet he seemed hardly to understand. I told the pair -that I had spoiled their cowardly joke for them. Broughton looked up. - -"'I have smashed the foul thing into a hundred pieces,' I said. -Broughton licked his lips again and his mouth worked. 'By God!' I -shouted, 'it would serve you right if I thrashed you within an inch -of your life. I will take care that not a decent man or woman of my -acquaintance ever speaks to you again. And there,' I added, throwing -the broken piece of the skull upon the floor beside his bed, 'there is -a souvenir for you, of your damned work to-night!' - -"Broughton saw the bone, and in a moment it was his turn to frighten -me. He squealed like a hare caught in a trap. He screamed and screamed -till Mrs. Broughton, almost as terrified as I, held on to him and -coaxed him like a child to be quiet. But Broughton--and as he moved I -thought that ten minutes ago I perhaps looked as terribly ill as he -did--thrust her from him, and scrambled out of the bed on to the floor, -and still screaming put out his hand to the bone. It had blood on it -from my hand. He paid no attention to me whatever. In truth I said -nothing. This was a new turn indeed to the horrors of the evening. He -rose from the floor with the bone in his hand, and stood silent. He -seemed to be listening. 'Time, time, perhaps,' he muttered, and almost -at the same moment fell at full length on the carpet, cutting his head -against the fender. The bone flew from his hand and came to rest near -the door. I picked Broughton up, haggard and broken, with blood over -his face. He whispered hoarsely and quickly, 'Listen, listen!' We -listened. - -"After ten seconds' utter quiet, I seemed to hear something. I could -not be sure, but at last there was no doubt. There was a quiet sound -as of one moving along the passage. Little regular steps came towards -us over the hard oak flooring. Broughton moved to where his wife -sat, white and speechless, on the bed, and pressed her face into his -shoulder. - -"Then the last thing that I could see as he turned the light out, he -fell forward with his own head pressed into the pillow of the bed. -Something in their company, something in their cowardice, helped me, -and I faced the open doorway of the room, which was outlined fairly -clearly against the dimly lighted passage. I put out one hand and -touched Mrs. Broughton's shoulder in the darkness. But at the last -moment I too failed. I sank on my knees and put my face in the bed. -Only, we all heard. The footsteps came to the door, and there they -stopped. The piece of bone was lying a yard inside the door. There was -a rustle of moving stuff, and the thing was in the room. Mrs. Broughton -was silent: I could hear Broughton's voice praying, muffled in the -pillow: I was cursing my own cowardice. Then the steps moved out again -on the oak boards of the passage, and I heard the sounds dying away. In -a flash of remorse I went to the door and looked out. There at the end -of the corridor was a small bowed figure in a gray veil--I knew it only -too well. But this time there was a pathos in the drooped head that -left me standing with my forehead bowed in shame against the jamb of -the door. - -"'You can turn the light on,' I said, and there was an answering flare. -There was no bone at my feet. Mrs. Broughton had fainted. Broughton was -almost useless, and it took me ten minutes to bring her to. Broughton -only said one thing worth remembering. For the most part he went on -muttering prayers. But I was glad afterwards to recollect that he had -said that thing. He said in a colorless voice, half as a question, -half as a reproach, 'You didn't speak to her.' - -"We spent the remainder of the night together. Mrs. Broughton actually -fell off into a kind of sleep before dawn, but she suffered so horribly -in her dreams that I shook her into consciousness again. Never was dawn -so long in coming. Three or four times Broughton spoke to himself. Mrs. -Broughton would then just tighten her hold on his arm, but she could -say nothing. As for me, I can honestly say that I grew worse as the -hours passed and the light strengthened. The two violent reactions had -battered down my steadiness of view, and I felt that the foundations of -my life had been built upon the sand. I said nothing, and after binding -up my hand with a towel, I did not move. It was better so. They helped -me and I helped them, and we all three knew that our reason had gone -very near to ruin that night. At last, when the light came in pretty -strongly, and the birds outside were chattering and singing, we felt -that we must do something. Yet we never moved. You might have thought -that we should particularly dislike being found as we were by the -servants: yet nothing of the kind mattered a straw, and an overpowering -listlessness bound us as we sat, until Chapman, Broughton's man, -actually knocked and opened the door. None of us moved. Broughton, -speaking hardly and stiffly, said: 'Chapman, you can come back in -five minutes.' Chapman was a discreet man, but it would have made no -difference if he had carried his news to the 'room' at once. - -"We looked at each other and I said I must go back. I meant to wait -outside till Chapman returned. I simply dared not re-enter my bedroom -alone. Broughton roused himself and said that he would come with me. -Mrs. Broughton agreed to remain in her own room for five minutes if the -blinds were drawn up and all the doors left open. - -"So Broughton and I, leaning stiffly one against the other, went down -to my room. By the morning light that filtered past the blinds we could -see our way, and I released the blinds. There was nothing wrong in the -room from end to end, except smears of my own blood on the bed, on the -sofa, and on the carpet where I had torn the thing to pieces." - -Colvin had finished his story. There was nothing to say. Seven bells -stuttered out from the fo'c'sle, and the answering cry wailed through -the darkness. I took him downstairs. - -"Of course I am much better now, but it is a kindness of you to let me -sleep in your cabin." - - - - -THE TERROR - -BY A. E. THOMAS - -ILLUSTRATIONS BY HERMAN C. WALL - - -It was a gray and bitter morning in January when Tim first saw The -Vale. For weeks winter had lain heavy upon the sunny South. A cold rain -had swept the countryside; then came zero weather for days, till the -ice lay inch-thick on all the broad pikes of Lexington County, and only -the firs were green. - -Tim and his mother had left the little cabin they called home at the -first crack of dawn and together had tramped the five miles that -spelled the road to The Vale. All the way they spoke scarce a word, for -they knew that parting was near and that it had to be. Colonel Darnton -was to take the boy and make a jockey of him, if he could, and the -stables of The Vale were to be his home thereafter. - -The negroes were feeding the stallions when the boy and his mother -trudged up to the big barn. They sat on a feed-box until the Colonel -had finished his breakfast and come out from the big house under the -trees. - -"Morning to you, Mrs. Doolin," said the Colonel. "And so you've brought -the boy, eh?" - -"I have that," responded Mrs. Doolin, in her odd mixture of brogue and -Southern drawl. "An' I beg ye t' be good tew him. Since Pete died, he's -all I hov, an' it's the good lad he's been to me, an' phwat it is I'll -be doin' widout him whin he's gawn, I dinnaw. Will ye be afther lettin' -him come down t' see me wanst a fortnight, sor?" - -"Of course I will," smiled the Colonel, and then he turned to Tim, -standing there, so pale and little. - -"And you, boy," he said, taking the lad's chin in his big hand and -turning the blue eyes up to his gaze, "how about you--strong for the -hosses, eh?" - -Tim's lip quivered. He was only twelve. But he looked the Colonel -bravely in the face. - -"I reck'n," he said. - -"Well, well, we'll see," said the Colonel, mercifully releasing the -boy's chin. "'Twould be odd if you weren't. Your father was mighty -handy with 'em all--mighty handy." - -"Savin' yer prisince, Colonel, I'd hov jist wan wurrud wid th' boy," -said the woman, and she drew Tim aside. - -"Lookee yew here, yew Tim Doolin," she said, when she had him by -himself, "don't yew niver fergit thet yew're up here tew The Vale tew -larn hosses. Raymimber thet." The boy drew one ragged sleeve across his -blue eyes. - -"All right, maw," he quavered. - -"An' raymimber this, too," she went on. "There niver yit was wan Doolin -thet wasn't on the square. Hoss racin' ain't prayin', an' all them as -races hosses ain't like the Colonel. But there niver was wan Doolin yit -thet wasn't on the level. Mind yew ain't the fust crook in the clan, er -else yew needn't niver come home t' the Blue Grass ter look yewr maw in -the face." - -Thin and gaunt and gray-haired, she stood in the biting wind that -fought to tear her shawl from her bony shoulders. For a moment she -stared, stern and dry-eyed, at the boy. Somehow he had never seemed so -tiny before. - -"Will yew raymimber thet?" she demanded at last. Tim dropped his eyes -in boyish embarrassment. - -"I reck'n," he said. - -His mother drew her shawl tightly about her shoulders and departed -without more ado. - -The life of a stable-boy on a great breeding-farm is not all beer and -skittles, whatever that may be. His principal business is to look sharp -and do as he is told and never forget. It's always early to rise, -before dawn in the winter time, and often late to bed, if some of the -priceless thoroughbreds are ailing. Moreover, the tongues of stable -foremen are sharp, and their hands are heavy. - -Tim made his mistakes. Once, after they came to trust him at The Vale, -on a sharp morning when he was giving King Faraway, the head of the -stud, his morning gallop on the pike, he fell to dreaming. A little -brook ran under a wooden bridge built for carriage use. But to one -side there was a ford through which people drove in summer to give -their horses drink. The brook was solid ice that morning, but Tim, not -thinking, turned King Faraway into the ford. The great horse slipped -and fell. - -Tim sprang up from the far side of the brook with the blood gushing -from a nasty cut on his forehead. But he didn't think of that. Was King -Faraway hurt? - -He walked the three miles back to The Vale, the stallion limping behind -him, and at the stable he told the truth and got a thrashing. - -King Faraway was on three legs for a month. But he recovered. Every -night of that month the boy slept on a heap of straw in the stallion's -box stall, waking up half a dozen times a night to rub the injured -stifle; and in the end the great horse was as good as new. - -Again, one chilly November night Tim left one of his yearlings out in -the South Paddock. Late that night a cold, driving storm came up. In -the morning they found the yearling shivering by the paddock gate. -The Colonel himself worked his fingers off over that yearling colt, -for he was bred in the purple. The youngster had pneumonia, but they -saved him, and the Colonel said that Tim's nursing was what pulled him -through. - -On an April morning something over two years after the day Tim came -to The Vale, he started with the season's two-year-olds for the big -tracks at New York. He had helped break the youngsters to the saddle -and to the track on the half-mile race-course on the farm, and he knew -every one of the lot as if he had been its mother. So when they rounded -them up to take them to the special box-cars that were waiting in the -freight yards, the Colonel took the lad aside. - -"Really want to be a jockey, Tim?" he asked. - -"Sure," said Tim. - -"Want to leave us, then, eh?" The boy looked away, and the Colonel -spared him. - -"All right," he said with a laugh. "To the races you go. You can come -back if you don't like it." - -All the broad acres of The Vale and the costly stallions and the brood -mares belonged to David Holland, a captain of finance. He was too busy -manipulating the ticker to pay much attention to the stock-farm itself. -He knew nothing whatever about the breeding of horses and was clever -enough to admit it. He paid the bills and got his fun out of "seeing -'em run." - -The Holland stable was already quartered at Sheepshead Bay when the -Colonel and Tim arrived with the two-year-olds. Pat Faulkner, the -trainer, was there to meet them. He and the Colonel drew aside and -left the boy to himself. The hours for morning gallops were long since -over, and when Tim climbed the white rail fence that enclosed the -back-stretch, the big and beautiful track was absolutely deserted. - -"Well," said Faulkner, "what sort of a grist have you brought me this -trip? I've been bitin' me nails off to find out, but not a word would -you write." - -They had out the chestnut colt with the one white foot, and the black -with the white blaze, and the bay filly by Checkers-Flighty, and a few -other individuals, while the trainer felt them over and looked them up -and down and round about, and had them walked and trotted and cantered -through the stable yard. - -When it was all over, and he knew that here was material that would -make his rivals sit up, Faulkner's eyes fell upon a slim shape sitting -on the white rail fence. - -"What's the kid?" he demanded. - -"That?" said the Colonel, with a smile, "why, that's Tim Doolin, a -champion jockey I've brought you." The trainer grunted. - -"How old?" he asked. - -"Going on fifteen, weighs seventy-three pounds, is kind and clever, -knows the hosses, and they'll do for him. Try him out at exercise work, -and if he makes good, give him a chance to ride." - -That same night the Colonel departed. - -After that Tim's work was cut out for him. There were twenty-six -two-year-olds in the Holland stables, twelve three-year-olds, and six -or eight thoroughbreds in the aged division. Faulkner kept a big staff -of grooms and exercise boys, but there was always a day's work for each -of them. Aside from the routine exercise for every horse in training, -the feeding, the grooming, and so on, all the youngsters had to be -broken to the starting barrier. Some trainers didn't pay much attention -to that. - -"Let 'em come to it in their races," said they. Not so, Faulkner. He -drilled every last one of his two-year-olds till the starting gate was -no more to them than so much steel and wood and webbing. - -Tim was not long in winning the trainer's confidence. The job of -breaking to the barrier was turned over to the stable foreman, under -whose eyes the grooms and exercise boys worked. But one afternoon -Faulkner himself came out to see how things were going. He noticed that -the three two-year-olds that were Tim's especial care were already -barrier-broken. He cross-examined the lad. Tim was reticent. - -"I--I--jest get 'em used to it," he faltered. - -"How?" demanded the trainer. - -"I--I jest lead 'em up to it, first along, an' let 'em smell of it -and look at it. Then I git one of the boys to spring it while I'm -a-standin' by at their heads. They git used to it pretty soon. Then I -ride 'em up to it." - -"Humph!" grunted the trainer; but later he said to the foreman: "That -kid's got sense." - -It wasn't long before Tim was exercising three-year-olds, and one gray -morning when he turned out of the loft where he slept, the foreman -shouted: - -"Hurry up, you Tim, an' git yer breakfast." - -The boy wondered and obeyed. He gulped down the last of his oatmeal, -shot out of the training kitchen, and ran up to the stables, where a -negro groom was holding a big bay horse, about which Faulkner himself -was busily working. The trainer arose as the boy ran up. - -"Up you go, kid," he said and tossed Tim into the saddle. - -And Tim knew that he was to exercise Lear! And everybody knew that the -Holland stable was pointing Lear for the Brooklyn Handicap! It was a -proud moment for Tim. But his honors didn't sit too heavily on his -small shoulders, for Faulkner was a hard task-master. - -"Jog him to the mile post and send him the last half in .55 an' keep -yer eye on the flag," the trainer would order. - -Then the boy would canter away through the gray light, and the trainer, -handkerchief in one hand and stop-watch in the other, would mount the -fence. If the clock said .57 for that last half mile, or anything -between that and .55, there was a slap on the back and a "Good kid," -for Tim, but woe to him if the clicking hand cut it down to .53. - -Mistakes he made, and many of them, but they grew fewer and fewer. Good -hands he had (for they are born with a boy, if he's ever to have them) -and an intuitive knowledge of the temper of a horse. A good seat they -had taught him at The Vale. And gradually, little by little and bit by -bit, he came to be what only one jockey in fifty ever grows into--an -unerring judge of pace. - -Just what it is that tells a boy whether the muscles of steel that he -bestrides are shooting him rhythmically over a furlong of dull brown -earth or black and slimy mud in .12-1/2 or .13-1/4, some person may -perhaps be able to tell, but certain it is that no person ever has told -it. Long after Tim had learned the secret as few boys have ever known -it, I asked him. - -"Why," said he, "yew know your hoss, an' after thet, why, yew jest feel -it." - -It was not until the autumn meeting at Gravesend that Tim first wore -the colors. It was in an overnight selling race for two-year-olds, for -which Faulkner had in despair named Gracious. - -Gracious was a merry little short-bodied filly, who was bred as well as -any of the Holland lot, but who hadn't done well. Out of six starts she -had never shown anything, and Faulkner had determined to start her once -more and then weed her out. The weight, eighty-seven pounds, was so -light that the stable jockey couldn't make it. Then Faulkner remembered -the Colonel's words: "Give him a chance, if he makes good." - -"I'll do it," he said, and told Tim. - -Tim didn't sleep well that night, and with wide eyes he welcomed the -first light of the great day. At last he was to wear the colors! - -"Just get her off well and take your time," said Faulkner, as he put -the boy up. "Rate her along to the stretch and then drive her." - -Tim did all that. Coming into the stretch, there were four horses -ahead of him on the rail. But two of them were weakening. Then Tim -called on the filly. She answered and went up. But the colt next her -was staggering. He swerved, and Tim had to pull out. He got Gracious -going again and landed her third, only a head behind the second horse. -Faulkner was radiant as Tim dismounted. - -"Good kid," he said. He had backed the filly a bit to run third. But -Tim was almost weeping. - -"I could have won," he moaned, "if thet there Blinger hed kep' -straight." - -The boy rode half a dozen races in the next month, all of them for -two-year-olds. He won once and was second twice. Among the other -apprentice riders he was already a personage, although, of course, he -scarcely dared speak to the full-fledged jockeys. - -And then the Terror came. - -It was Gracious that brought it. There were eight two-years-olds in the -seven-furlong sprint on the main track at Morris Park. The filly had -gone slightly off her feed the night before the race, but she seemed -perfectly fit otherwise, and Faulkner determined to start her. - -"She won't finish as strong as she would a week ago," he told the boy, -as the saddling bugle blew. "So you send her along a bit at the start -and get the rail. Keep her goin' an' let her die in front." - -"I reck'n," said Tim confidently, and they swung him into the saddle. - -Gracious, under Tim's riding, was a quick breaker. She leaped away the -instant the barrier rose, and from the middle of the track the boy took -her to the rail before the run up the back-stretch was over. She held -her lead till the field had rounded into the stretch, and then he felt -her falter. In an instant he began to ride, first with hands, then with -hands and feet, then with hands and feet and whip. But it was not in -the filly to answer. At the six-furlong pole she had gone stale--gone -stale between two jumps. But the boy kept at her with might and main. - - [Illustration: "TIM AND HIS MOTHER HAD LEFT THEIR LITTLE CABIN AT THE - FIRST CRACK OF DAWN"] - -It was useless. In six strides a brown muzzle crept up to his saddle -girth. In two jumps more it reached the filly's shoulder. In three more -strides the two were head and head; and then the brown muzzle was in -front. - -Suddenly the brown muzzle drooped, and the colt faltered. Tim took -heart again. Perhaps, perhaps he might still nurse the filly home in -front. He gripped her withers a bit tighter with his knees and spoke to -her, softly and pleadingly, as was his wont, through his clenched teeth: - -"Come on, yew gal--come on, yew baby--come jes' once mo'--jes' -once--we's mos' home now--come--come. Come, yew gal!" - -Back to the boy's stirrup came the saddle girth of the brown colt, as -his stride shortened under the staggering drive. Tim's heart leaped in -his bosom, for there was the wire not ten jumps away and--he was going -to win. - -"Come--come, yew baby," he whispered almost into the filly's ear, as he -leaned far over her nodding head. The ecstasy of victory thrilled his -small body to his very toes. - -At that instant the brown colt swerved against him. The pungent odor -of sweating horseflesh smote his nostrils--the roar of a horrified -crowd filled his ears--the track rose up to meet him. A flash of red -enveloped his brain--then came darkness and oblivion. - -When he came to himself, the first faint light of dawn was sifting in -through a window somewhere. "Time I was up fer exercisin'," he thought, -and he struggled to rise. A flash of pain in his left arm turned him -faint and sick. As he wondered over this, he became aware of a dull, -steady roar that filled the room. - -Again he opened his eyes. Dimly he made out the form of a white-capped -woman standing over him. Then he knew that he was not lying in the -loft at Sheepshead Bay. - -"Are you awake, little boy?" said a soft voice. - -"I--I reck'n," said Tim faintly. - -There came the rattle of a heavy vehicle pounding over pavements, the -shrill shriek of a whistle, the roar of horses' hoofs. - -Then he remembered it all and turned his face to the wall. - -That same evening Faulkner came in to see him. - -"Well, Tim," he said, "'twas a bad tumble, hey? How d'you feel? better?" - -"Sure," said the boy feebly. - -"That's fine, that's fine," cried the trainer heartily. "'Twa'n't your -fault. You done fine. You'd 'a' won, sure, 'f that chump Reilly had -kep' his colt straight. But don't you care. We'll have you out in a few -days, the Doc says. I telegraphed the Colonel you was all to the good, -an' he'll tell yer ma, so don't you worry about that, kid." He leaned -over, smiled kindly, and put a huge hand on the boy's head. - -It smelled horribly of sweaty horseflesh. With a shudder Tim turned his -head away. - -"You musn't mind a little thing like a tumble," said the trainer -anxiously. "They all get 'em. Why, I remember when I was ridin' a hoss -named ----" - -And the kindly horseman blundered on in an attempt to cheer the -helpless lad. It seemed to Tim that he simply must cry out to him to -stop, when the nurse came swiftly up and warned the trainer not to stay -any longer. - -"Well, so long, kid," was Faulkner's parting word. "Oh, 'course yer -busted arm won't let yer ride again this fall, but the season's most -over anyway. Only two more days o' Morris Park, and y' know we ain't -got any cheap ones to start at Aqueduct. Anythin' I kin do f' you?" Tim -opened his eyes again. - -"Filly hurted?" he asked faintly. - -The trainer laughed. - -"Nothin' to hurt," he said. "Skinned her knees a bit, but I was goin' -to put her out o' trainin' anyhow. She's O.K." - -To Tim's unspeakable relief he lumbered away. - -With his arm in a sling, Tim was out again at the end of a week. -Much against the boy's will, Faulkner took him one day to the -meeting at Aqueduct. There the trainer was soon surrounded by -professional colleagues, and Tim fled to a seat in the highest row -of the grandstand. Thence he looked down upon the first stages of a -six-furlong sprint, but when three horses labored home in a tight-fit -finish he buried his face in his hands that he might not see them. - -When he lifted his face again, he glanced furtively about, thankful, -oh, so thankful, that nobody had noticed him. - -Then self-scorn descended upon him. If he could only go away somewhere -and die! Furtively, he wept, wiping the tears away with one pudgy, -brown fist. For some minutes he stared, heavy-eyed and broken, at his -feet. - -"Ta-ra-ta-ta-ta! Ta-ra-ta-ta!" - -The bugle spoke, calling the handicap horses to the post. - -Tim started up and edged toward the aisle. His racing feet carried him -in panic half way down to the lawn. One idea possessed him--to get -away--to hide himself, he didn't care where--anywhere where he couldn't -see the horses run. - -A hand seized him by the shoulder and spun him around. - -"Hey, kid," said a voice, "how you feelin'? All to the mustard, hey?" - -It was Bud Noble, star jockey of the Holland stable, radiant with all -the prestige that comes with twenty thousand a year and the adulation -of the racing public. - -"I reck'n," said Tim, and fled again. - -He had no notion of flight. His feet bore him along unsentiently. -Suddenly they stopped. And then he knew that he couldn't run away. -He must see that race. Something within him that would not be denied -commanded it. Slowly he retraced his steps, muttering unconsciously: "I -gotter do it. I gotter do it." - -Presently he found himself back in the top row of the grandstand. As in -a dream, he watched the parade of brilliant colors to the post. As in -a dream, he saw the barrier flash up. The old-time roar "They're off!" -came faint and faraway to his ears. Dreamlike, the field drifted up the -back stretch, rounded the turn, and straightened out for home. He dug -the fingers of his one good hand into the hard wooden bench and held -his eyes upon the horses. - -"I gotter do it. I gotter do it," he muttered still. - -They were years in reaching the wire. No mortal thoroughbreds ever -ran so slowly before since time began. But at last, at the end of the -world, they finished. And up on the highest bench of the grandstand a -little boy, with white face and wide eyes, sat back, limp and still. - -Tim's arm was still in a sling when he got back to Lexington, and it -was January before he could use it to any effect. The intervening weeks -he spent at home, helping his mother as best he could in the round of -her hard life, running her errands and bearing to and fro the various -washings by which she lived. For the first time in his life it worried -him to see her work so hard. - - [Illustration: "A NEGRO GROOM WAS HOLDING A BIG BAY HORSE, ABOUT WHICH - FALKNER WAS BUSILY WORKING"] - -"Nivver mind, Tim," she would say, lifting her bent back from the tub -in the corner of the kitchen, "soon you'll be the famous jockey wid -thousands a year. Thin it's your ould mother that'll be wearin' the -fine duds and wurruk no more." - -And then the boy, sick with shame and fear, would steal from the -house--anywhere to be out of the sight of her and the sound of her -voice. - -Sometimes the Terror would grip him in his sleep, in the middle of the -winter night, when the wind shrieked under the shingles on the cabin -roof or the cold rain drove against the window-pane. More than once he -started up, broad awake, with the smell of sweating horseflesh sharp -and agonizing in his nostrils. Once it was the sound of his own voice -that woke him, and he was crying out: - -"Come on, yew baby, come, come, yew gal!" - -Then he sat on the edge of his cot, with the blanket over his -shoulders, until daybreak, with such thoughts as a boy may know. - -But on a sunny morning in February, it was Tim who stood in the great -doorway of the stallion stable at The Vale, saying to the Colonel: - -"Thought mebbe I could help yew with the two-year-olds." - -Day by day he strove with himself. Little by little he fought the -Terror down. The very smell of the stables turned him faint for a week. -He used to creep into King Faraway's box-stall when the big horse -stood, wet under his blanket, after his morning gallop, and bury his -face in the stallion's mane and rub his nose along the giant withers, -till at last the horrible smell of sweating horseflesh had power -to terrify him no more. It was weeks before he could mount without -trembling, but at last he came to do it and--to hope. - -At last came April, and one evening, as Tim was helping with the -feeding, he heard the Colonel's voice calling him. He trembled a -little, for he knew what was coming. - -"I've a letter from Faulkner," said the Colonel, "and he's asking -for you, Tim. Shall I tell him you'll be up with the new batch of -youngsters?" It was the cast of the die. - -"I reck'n," said Tim stoutly. - -But it wasn't quite the same old Sheepshead Bay that Tim went back to. -He did his work as faithfully and skilfully as ever. His hand was just -as light and sure; he had not lost his sense of pace. But the first -pale light of day did not send him out to the stables with every nerve -in his lithe body tingling for very joy of the work that was coming. -And once, when he saw a stable-boy thrown--the Terror rose at him -again; not with the old terrible leap, to be sure, but he saw Its face -for an instant. - -He will never forget his first race that spring. Again he rode a -two-year-old, and he won without difficulty, nobody guessed at what -expense. As the season went on, he rode again and again, and sometimes -he won, and oftener not. - -But Faulkner saw and shook his head. If Tim's horse won, it was because -its own speed and the judgment of its rider did it. Nobody ever saw Tim -take a chance. Other boys might leave him space to squeeze through if -they liked. He never did it. It was the longest way 'round and plain -sailing for Tim. No mad, brilliant rush for the rail. No fine finishes -from unlucky beginnings. - -And Faulkner watched and saw it all. Once the boy caught the trainer -looking at him, thoughtful and puzzled. A big lump rose in his throat -and strangled him, and he stumbled away with his grief. It seemed to -him that he could not live on any longer. He grew even more grave and -silent as the days went on, shunned the other stable-boys, and kept -stolidly to himself. - -It had to end sometime, somehow, and the ending of it was -notable--because Tim was Tim, I suppose. - -For the Suburban Handicap, with the Brooklyn the greatest of the -classic races for the older horses, the Holland stable had two -candidates. The first was the five-year-old Gladstone, son of Juniper -and winner of fifteen races, one of them a Metropolitan. The second -was Kate Greenaway, a three-year-old filly by King Faraway, whose only -claim to distinction was that she had won third place in the Futurity -of the preceding year. But, though Gladstone was the stable's main -reliance, the filly's work had been dazzling, and the shrewd Faulkner -had hopes of her. - -Bud Noble, as stable jockey, was to ride Gladstone, while the trainer -relied on the light-weight Ban Johnson, on whom the stable had second -call, to handle Kate Greenaway. Tim knew the filly as no one else knew -her or could know her. Down at The Vale, before ever he came to the -races, he had been the first to put halter and bridle on her; his small -legs were the first to bestride her; he had broken her to the barrier -until she seemed actually to like the thing, and in her work she had -been his especial charge. But he had never ridden her in a race. - -The running of a big handicap at a Metropolitan track is an impressive -event, even to the man who knows nothing of horses. To him who loves -the thoroughbred it is inspiring. To Tim it was something more than -that--a thing to make you tremble. - -All morning the boy hung uneasily about the stable. He ate scarcely -any dinner and roved restlessly about until it was time to take the -filly to the paddock. He got her there just as the horses were going to -the post for the third race. The Suburban was the fourth. Up and down -under the great shed he walked his charge, blanketed and hooded, in the -wake of towering, black Gladstone. Soon a shouting from the grandstand -announced that the third race was over. - -Then came a rush of hundreds to see the Suburban horses saddled. One -by one, the candidates filed out to the track for their warming-up -gallops--Boston, top-weight, favorite and winner of the Metropolitan, -and second in the Brooklyn; Carley, winner of the Advance the season -before; Catchall, the speedy Hastings mare; and all the rest--all save -Kate Greenaway. Once, in a warming-up gallop, she had run away, and -Faulkner would never take chances with her after that. So Tim walked -her up and down by herself, thankful, yet ashamed, that somebody else -was to ride her. - -Suddenly the stable foreman ran up. - -"Hi, you Tim," he shouted, "hustle over to the dressin' room an' git on -yer duds. Skin along, now, no time to lose." - -Tim stood gaping. - -"Git a move on--git a move! My Gawd! You ain't got no time to lose. -Ban's fell down an' sprained his ankle." - -Tim trudged over to the jockey's house, his eyes on the ground. Over in -the paddock, Faulkner listened stubbornly to the foreman. - -"I tell you," the latter was saying, "the kid's lost his nerve. Ain't -you seen it all along? He ain't took a chance sence his tumble. Why -dontcher give the mount to Tyson or Biff Barry? They ain't neither of -'em got a mount." - -"Nothin' doin'," rejoined the trainer. "The kid knows the -filly--brought her up, almost. He can ride, too, if he don't get in -a tight place, an' that ain't likely. Tyson can't make the weight. -B'sides, I told the Colonel I'd give the kid a chance. An'," he -concluded, "this is it." - -"All right," said the foreman, "but you'll see. He's lost his nerve. -Why, he got white eraoun' the gills when I tol' him." - - [Illustration: "HE SAT ON THE EDGE OF HIS COT, WITH THE BLANKET OVER - HIS SHOULDERS, UNTIL DAYBREAK"] - -Tim had grown like a weed since he first saw Sheepshead Bay, but it -was a slender, fragile figure that the trainer tossed into the chestnut -filly's saddle when the bugle blew. - -"Now, kid," said Faulkner quietly, throwing one arm over the crupper, -"you're third from the rail. You know the filly as well as I do. She's -fit to the minute. She'll run in 2.03, if she ain't rushed in the first -half. Hold yer place an' let the sprinters do their sprintin'. They'll -come back. Keep her goin' her pace for a mile, an' if you have to ride -her the last quarter, make her sweat for it. She's game fer a drive. -They don't make 'em no gamer." - -The lad heard scarcely a word. He wasn't frightened. He was sullen, -rebellious against--against everything. It was one more race to -him--commonplace, perfunctory, tiresome. He was going to get through -with it in the easiest way he could. He thought with relief of the wide -spaces and easy turns of the great track. - -"Keep up yer nerve, kid," said Bud Noble, turning in his saddle and -looking back at Tim as the field filed through the paddock gate. - -Tim grinned scornfully. What a notion! Why should anybody need nerve -to gallop a horse around a track? He had only one idea--to keep out -of trouble. So, perfectly calm and very much bored, he danced to the -starting-gate on the chestnut filly. He paid little attention to the -fretful doings there. He was haunted by no fear that he might be left. -It was a nuisance to have to keep an eye on the vicious heels of Baldy, -the swayback gelding at his left--that was all. - -But Kate Greenaway had no intention of being left. She kept her dainty -nose on the webbing from the instant she got it there, for hadn't -Tim taught her that? And when, at last, all the fussing and fuming -was over, and the whips of the starter's assistants had ceased their -hissing, and the pleadings and threats of the starter himself were -done, and the gate swished up before the fourteen racers, the filly's -first bound beat the gate by half a length. - -Tim was a trifle disgusted. "Blast the filly, anyhow!" he thought. It -was no part of his plan to lead that roaring field. He took a double -wrap on the reins, and his mount came back till two lithe, lean forms -slid up abreast her on the rail, and a third on the outside. That -was better, thought Tim, and the sprinters drew out ahead of him. -Contentedly he fell in on the rail behind them. - -A storm of dirt clods smote the filly in the face. Another pelted -Tim on the forehead. He took a tighter hold on Kate Greenaway, and -the sprinters drew away another length. It would have been an easy -thing for him to choke her back still further, but somehow a surge -of generous feeling for the game creature beat down his sullen -selfishness, and he hadn't the heart to strangle her. - - [Illustration: "IN HIS EARS WAS THE ROAR FROM THIRTY THOUSAND THROATS - IN THE GRANDSTAND"] - -The leaders had by this time swung around the first turn, and as they -passed the half-mile mark two noses intruded themselves on Tim's vision -on the outside. - -"Hello," he thought, "old long-distance Boston is movin' up. An' -Carley, to keep him from gettin' lonesome." But the track was wide, -they ran straight and true and kept their distance. - -Suddenly the sprinters began to come back. In five seconds Tim would -have to pull up behind them. This was disgusting! If only he were on -the outside! A clod of earth struck his breast. Instinctively he let -out a wrap on the reins. - -The filly went up to the sprinters in ten jumps. As he ranged -alongside, Tim took another hold on her. No more front positions for -him. He was outside, and he meant to stay there and be derned to 'em! - -Then one of the sprinters fell back, beaten already, and as Boston -somehow sifted into the vacant place Tim noted with a gasp that here -was the far turn already, and he was with the leaders. This surprised -him so much that the last turn leaped past before he realised that -there were only two horses between him and the rail. One of them was -black Boston, top-weight at one hundred and twenty-nine; the other was -Carley. - -He was getting a bit interested in spite of himself. The boys on the -older horses began to urge them a bit, and as they swung around the -turn and into the stretch they drew away a couple of lengths. Tim sat -still. He was in that delightful outside place, with acres of room. He -even glanced over at the in-field where the patrol judge stood with his -glasses to his eyes. He remembered afterward that that official's weird -whiskers amused him. Then something happened. - -Kate Greenaway became mistress of herself. As she swung round the turn, -a wide space confronted her, left by the leaders between themselves and -the rail. Kate Greenaway had been taught to hunt that rail as a homing -pigeon its cote. She sought it now so sharply that Tim all but lost his -seat. - -Instantly the boy awoke. He remembered the prize he was riding for--the -Suburban! the Suburban! Straight before him for a quarter of a mile -gleamed the track, yellow in the June sunlight. Nothing to do but -ride--straight--straight to the wire. - -All the slumbering life in his body awoke from its sullen sleep. He -blessed the splendid filly racing so true and so strong beneath him, -and he sat down for the first time to help her with every ounce of his -power and every trace of his skill. - -He knew she could win. He knew she had been going well within herself, -and still she was where she could strike. Now was the time to ride, -and he rode as he had never ridden before, standing in the stirrups, -crouched over the gallant filly's neck, rising and falling in perfect -rhythm with her every stride. And, bless her! that stride had not begun -to shorten yet. - -Steadily she crept up on the older horses fighting their duel before -her. Tim could see from the tail of his eye that both their riders were -working for dear life--and he had only just begun to ride. His heart -bounded again beneath his brilliant jacket, and again he urged the -filly. - -But what was that? Surely, surely his path was growing narrower. In six -strides more he was sure of it. Carley, on the outside, was boring in -under the drive, and Boston was pulling in to keep from fouling. - -There's no time to pick daisies in the last furlong of the Suburban. -All the months of Tim's purgatory called to him to pull up before -they squeezed him against that deadly rail. He tried to do it, but -his wrists had gone limp. The next instant the bay and the black were -running stride for stride half a length before the filly--and closing -in. - -Then rose the Terror and gripped Tim by the throat. The moment had -come. They had pinned him on the rail. - -Under the gruelling drive Carley staggered again. He bumped Boston. Tim -felt the big horse graze his boot as he wavered. Instantly that pungent -smell of sweating horseflesh stung his nostrils, and with it flashed -the memory of that awful day to smite him helpless. - -Again he tried to pull up, and again he failed. His wrists were -palsied. Why didn't he fall! Oh, why didn't he fall! - -Under his quaking knees the withers of the gallant filly still rose and -fell, mightily, rhythmically; her lean, beautiful neck stretched out -as if to meet the goal, her nostrils wide and blood-red, through which -the air came and went, roaring, like the escape of steam from a mighty -valve, her eyeballs starting from their sockets. - -Then sickening shame smote him on his quivering lips. He seemed to -realise for the first time that the filly was waging her terrible fight -alone. - -The Terror dropped from the boy like a bad dream when one awakes. A -frenzy of pride and love for the filly swept over him. He had no hope. -The next instant he would hear that terrified roar of the crowd, the -track would leap up to meet him, that flash of red would smite him, -and blackness would fold him about. But the beautiful filly should not -go down with a coward astride her! He found himself talking to her as -of old, crouching low till his lips all but brushed her fine, straight -ears: - -"Come on, yew gal! Katie--yew Katie! Come on! Almos' home! Almos'! -Come--come, yew darlin'!" - -Closer pressed the driven Boston, till his rider's stirrup locked -Tim's. And then the boy knew that the last moment had come. It was fall -or win and instantly. In his ears was the creak and protest of the -straining saddles and girths, the roar from thirty thousand throats in -the grandstand, the whistle of the breath of three great horses locked -in a desperate struggle, the thunder of the flying hoofs behind him. He -had the right of way--let them unbar it, or crash to destruction--all -three! - -Gripping the reins with his right hand, he raised his whip in his left -and let it fall, once--twice--three times. Somewhere in her straining, -breathless, driven body the filly had one ounce more left. Gallantly, -instantly, she gave it. The rail grazed the boy's left boot. His right -was driven up to the filly's loins. - -She faltered--but she was through--through that strangling pocket, -reeling, staggering, half-blind and splendid, and the Suburban was hers -by a nod. - -They lifted Tim in the famous floral horse-shoe, and they cheered and -cheered him again. "Grandest finish I ever see," said Faulkner, and "My -Gawd! what a drive!" said the stable foreman, gaping. - -But to little Tim it meant only one thing--the greatest, most beautiful -thing that could be--the Terror was gone forever. He took a deep breath -and looked about him on a new world. - - - - - [Illustration] - -JAPAN'S STRENGTH IN WAR - -BY GENERAL KUROPATKIN - -TRANSLATED BY GEORGE KENNAN - -ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS - - -Although the trial of war through which our country and our army passed -in 1904-5 is now a subject for history, the material thus far collected -is not sufficiently abundant to enable the historian to estimate fairly -the events that preceded the war, nor to give a detailed explanation -of the defeats that we sustained in the course of it. It is urgently -necessary, however, that we should make immediate use of our recent -experience, because by ascertaining the nature of our mistakes and the -weaknesses of our troops we may learn what means should be adopted -to increase, hereafter, the material and spiritual strength of our -military force. - -In times past, when wars were carried on by small standing armies, -defeats did not affect the every-day interests of the whole nation -so profoundly as they affect them now, when the obligation to render -military service is general, and when, in time of war, most of our -soldiers are drawn from the great body of the people. If a war is to -be successful, in these days, it must be carried on, not by an army, -but by an armed nation, and in such a contest all sides of the national -life are more seriously affected and all defeats are more acutely felt -than they were in times past. - -When the national pride has been humiliated by failure in war, attempts -are usually made to ascertain what brought about the failure and who -was responsible for it. Some persons attribute it to general causes, -others to special causes. Some censure the system, or the régime, -while others throw the blame on particular individuals. I have been -so closely connected with immensely important events in the Far East, -and have been responsible to such an extent for the failure of our -military operations there, that I can hardly hope to take an absolutely -dispassionate and objective view of the persons and matters that I -shall deal with in the present work; but my object is not so much -to justify myself by replying to the charges that have been brought -against me personally as to furnish material that will make it easier -for the future historian to state fairly the reasons for our defeat, -and thus render possible the adoption of measures that will prevent -such defeats hereafter. The army that Russia put into the field in -1904-5 was unable, in the time allowed, to conquer the Japanese; and -yet Japan, only a short time before the war began, had no regular army -and was regarded by us as a second-class Power. How was she able to win -a complete victory over Russia at sea, and to defeat a powerful Russian -army on land? Many writers will study this question and, in time, they -will give us a comprehensive answer to it; but I shall confine myself, -in the present work, to an enumeration of the most broad and general -reasons for Japanese success. Among the most important of such reasons -is the following:--we did not fully appreciate the material and moral -strength of Japan and did not regard a conflict with her seriously -enough.[A] - - -_The Secret Growth of Japan's Army_ - -The Japanese first became our neighbors when, in the reign of Peter -the Great, we acquired the peninsula of Kamchatka. In 1860, by virtue -of the Treaty of Peking, we took peaceful possession of the extensive -Usuri territory; moved down to the boundary of Korea; and obtained -an outlet on the Sea of Japan. This sea, which is almost completely -enclosed by Korea and the Japanese islands, was immensely important -to the whole adjacent coast of the main land; but as the straits that -connected it with the ocean were in the hands of the Japanese, we might -easily be prevented by them from getting free access to the Pacific. -When we acquired the island of Sakhalin, we obtained an outlet through -the Tartar Strait; but that was all we had, and during a large part of -the time it was frozen over. - -For a long time, Japan lived a life that was wholly apart from ours and -did not particularly attract our attention. We knew the Japanese as -extremely skilful and patient artisans; we were fond of the things that -they made; and we were charmed with the delicacy and bright coloring of -their artistic products; but, from a military point of view, we took no -interest in them and regarded them as a weak nation. Our sailors always -spoke with sympathetic appreciation of the country and its inhabitants, -and were delighted to stay in Japanese ports--especially Nagasaki, -where they were liked and favorably remembered; but our travellers, -diplomats, and naval officers entirely overlooked the awakening of an -energetic, independent people. - -In 1867, the army of Japan consisted of nine battalions of infantry, -two squadrons of cavalry, and eight batteries, and numbered only 10,000 -men. This force, which formed the _cadre_ of the present army, had French -teachers and adopted from the latter the French uniform. After the -Franco-German war of 1870-71, German officers took the places of the -French instructors; military service was made a national obligation; -and Japanese officers were sent to Europe, every year, for the purpose -of study. At the time of her war with China, Japan had an army -consisting of seven infantry divisions; but finding herself unable, at -the end of that war, to retain the fruits of her victory, on account -of her weakness both on land and at sea, she made every possible -effort to create an army and a fleet that would be strong enough to -protect her interests. On the 19th of March, 1896, the Mikado issued -a decree providing for such a reorganization of the army as would -double its strength in the course of seven years. This reorganization -was completed in 1903. Our military and naval authorities did not -overlook the creation and development in Japan of a strong army and -fleet; but they confined themselves to the collection and tabulation of -statistics. We kept an account of every ship built and every division -of troops organized; but we did not estimate highly enough these -beginnings of Japan, and did not admit the possibility of measuring her -fighting-power by European standards. The latest information that we -had with regard to her military strength, prior to the late war, was -compiled by our General Staff from the reports of Colonel Vannofski -and other Russian military agents in Tokio. It showed that her army, -on a peace footing, numbered 8,116 officers and 133,457 men (not -including the troops in Formosa); and on a war footing, 10,735 officers -(not including reserve officers) and 348,074 men, with perhaps 50,000 -untrained reserve recruits. There was no mention of additional reserve -forces. - - -_Russian Generals Pigeonhole Reports of Japan's Fighting Strength_ - -In 1903 Colonel Adabash, who had just visited Japan, gave to General -Zhilinski, of our General Staff, very important information with regard -to new reserves which the Japanese were organizing for service in case -of war. Inasmuch, however, as this information did not agree at all -with that previously furnished by Colonel Vannofski, General Zhilinski -did not give it credence. A few months later, Captain Rusine, a very -talented officer who was acting as naval observer in Japan, made a -similar report upon Japanese reserves to his superiors, and extracts -from it were furnished to General Sakharoff, Chief of Staff of the -army. Although the information contained in this report ultimately -proved to be perfectly accurate, the report was pigeonholed, simply -because Generals Zhilinski and Sakharoff did not believe it; and in our -compendium of data with regard to the military strength of Japan in -1903-4, no reference whatever was made to additional reserve forces. -According to the figures of our General Staff, therefore, the total -number of available men in the standing army, the territorial army, and -the regular reserve of Japan, was a little more than 400,000.[B] - - [Illustration: _Stereograph copyright, 1904, by Underwood & Underwood_ - - SCHOOL CHILDREN BEING DRILLED IN MILITARY TACTICS NEAR TOKIO, JAPAN] - -Recently published official reports of General Kipke, Chief Medical -Inspector of the Japanese army, show that the loss of the Japanese in -killed and wounded, in the course of the war, was as follows: - - Killed 47,387 - Wounded 173,425 - - Total 220,812 - -Their loss in killed, wounded, and sick was 554,885--a number -considerably greater than the whole force which, according to the -figures of our General Staff, they could put into the field. They sent -320,000 sick and wounded back from Manchuria to Japan. - - [Illustration: VISCOUNT KATSURA - - PRIME MINISTER OF JAPAN DURING THE RUSSIAN-JAPANESE WAR] - -Other available information is to the effect that the bodies of 60,624 -killed were buried in the cemetery of honor in Tokio, and that, in -addition to these, 75,545 men died from wounds or disease. The Japanese -thus admit the loss of 135,000 men by death.[C] - -Their Chief Medical Inspector says that their killed and wounded -amounted to 14.58 per cent of their entire force, from which it would -appear that they put into the field against us troops of various -categories to the number of 1,500,000--or more than three times the -estimate of our General Staff. In view of these facts, it is evident -that our information with regard to their fighting strength was -insufficient. At the time when they had hundreds of avowed and secret -agents in the Far East, studying the strength of our land and naval -forces, we entrusted the collection of data with regard to their -military strength and resources to a single officer of the General -Staff, and, unfortunately, our military observers were not always -well selected. One of these experts in Japanese affairs said, in -Vladivostok, before hostilities began, that, in the event of war, we -might count on one Russian soldier as equal to three Japanese. After -the first engagements he moderated his tone and admitted that it might -be necessary to put one Russian against every Japanese. At the end of -another month he declared that, in order to win victories, we must meet -every Japanese soldier in the field with three Russians. Another of -our military agents, who had been in Japan, predicted authoritatively -that Port Arthur would fall in a very short time, and that immediately -thereafter the same fate would overtake Vladivostok. I sharply -reprimanded the faint-hearted babbler and threatened to dismiss him -from the army if he continued to make such injurious and inopportune -remarks. - - -_Moral Superiority of the Japanese_ - -But it was not only with regard to Japan's material strength that -our information was insufficient. We underestimated, or entirely -overlooked, her moral strength. According to that great leader -Napoleon, three fourths of an army's success in war is due to the moral -character of its soldiers. This relation of moral character to material -success still exists, although the conditions of battle, in these -days, are more trying than they were in the Napoleonic wars. And now, -more than ever before, the moral strength of the army depends upon the -temper of the nation. Armies are now so organized that, in case of war, -soldiers are drawn, for the most part, from the reserves. A successful -war, therefore, must be a popular war, and victory must be attained by -the hearty coöperation of the whole people with its Government. -The recent contest in Manchuria was a popular war for the Japanese, but -not for us. The Korean question, and the question of naval supremacy -on the waters of the Pacific, involved vital Japanese interests, and -the immense importance of these interests was so clearly understood -and so fully appreciated by the Japanese people that the war for their -protection was a national war. Japan spent ten years in preparing -for it, and then the whole nation carried it on. Japanese soldiers, -deeply conscious of the bearing that their exploits might have on -the future of the country, fought with a self-sacrificing devotion -and a stubbornness that we had never seen in any war in which we had -previously been engaged. Sometimes, in villages that we had taken by -assault, a handful of Japanese soldiers would barricade themselves in -native houses and die there rather than retreat or surrender. Japanese -officers who fell into our hands--even wounded officers--generally -committed suicide. - -It is quite possible that when we have a true history of the war based -on Japanese sources of information, our pride may receive another blow. -We already know that in many cases we outnumbered the enemy, and still -we were not victorious. The explanation of this, however, is very -simple. The Japanese, in these cases, were inferior to us materially, -but they were stronger than we morally.[D] To this aspect of the -struggle we should give particular attention, because military history -shows that, in all wars, the antagonist who is strongest morally wins -the victory. The only exceptions are such contests as that between the -English and the Boers in South Africa and that between the North and -the South in America. The English were weaker than the Boers morally, -but they put into the field an overwhelming force, and, in spite of -many defeats, they finally conquered. In the American war, the army -of the South was in the same position that the Boer army was, and the -Northerners had to put a superior force into the field in order to -overcome it. - - [Illustration: GENERAL TERAUCHI - - JAPANESE MINISTER OF WAR] - - -_Extraordinary Popularity of the War in Japan_ - -Among the sources of moral strength that failed to attract our -attention in Japan were the following: The training of her citizens had -long been patriotic and warlike in tendency; her educational system had -inculcated an ardent love of country; and even in her primary schools -children were prepared, from their earliest years, to be soldiers. The -people regarded the army with profound respect and trust, and young -men served in it with pride. All these things we failed to see, and we -overlooked also the iron discipline enforced in the army and the rôle -played in it by the samurai officers. We wholly failed to appreciate, -moreover, the vital importance of the Korean question to Japan, and the -strength of the hostile feeling that was raised against us when the -Japanese were deprived of the fruits of their victory after their war -with China. The party of Young Japan had long insisted upon war with -Russia and had been restrained only by a prudent Government. - -When the war began, we recovered our powers of perception, but it was -then too late. And at that time, when the war was not only unpopular -in Russia but incomprehensible to the Russian people, the Japanese, -with a great outburst of enthusiastic patriotism, were responding, -like a single man, to the call to arms. In some cases Japanese mothers -even killed themselves, when their sons, on account of weakness or ill -health, were denied admission to the army. Hundreds of men volunteered -to undertake the most desperate enterprises, in the face of certain -death; and many officers and soldiers, before going to the front, had -funeral ceremonies performed over their bodies, in order to show that -they intended to die for their native land. The youth of the Empire -crowded into the army, and the heads of the most distinguished families -sought to serve their country by enlisting themselves, by sending -their sons to the front, or by helping to pay the expenses of the war. -Some Japanese regiments, in attacking our positions, threw themselves -with the cry of "Banzai!" upon our obstructions, struggled over or -through them, filled our ditches with the bodies of their dead, and -then, rushing across upon the corpses of their comrades, forced their -way into our entrenchments. The army and the whole people appreciated -the importance of the war, understood the significance of the events -that were taking place, and were ready to make sacrifices in order to -achieve success. - - [Illustration: _Copyrighted by Underwood & Underwood_ - - GENERAL KODAMA - - CHIEF STAFF OFFICER OF THE JAPANESE ARMY IN MANCHURIA] - - -_Military Training of Japanese Children_ - -After the Japanese-Chinese war, of which I made a most careful and -detailed study, I myself was inspired with a feeling of respect for the -Japanese army and watched its growth with anxiety. Then, in 1900, the -part played by the Japanese troops that coöperated with ours in the -province of Pechili confirmed me in the belief that they were excellent -soldiers. During my short stay in Japan, I was unable to acquaint -myself thoroughly with the country and its military forces, but what I -did learn was enough to convince me that the results attained by the -Japanese in the course of twenty-five or thirty years were astounding. -I saw a beautiful country, with a large and industrious population. -Intense activity prevailed everywhere, and I was impressed by the -people's joy in life, their love of country, and their faith in -their future. In their military school, where I saw a Spartan system -of education, the exercises of the cadets with pikes, rifles, and -broadswords were not approached by anything of the kind that I had -witnessed in Europe,--it was fighting of the fiercest character. At -the end of the struggle there was a hand-to-hand combat, which lasted -until the victors stood triumphant over the bodies of the vanquished -and tore off their masks. In these exercises, which were very severe, -the cadets struck one another fiercely and with wild cries; but the -moment a prearranged signal was given, or the fight came to an end, -the combatants drew themselves up in a line and their faces assumed an -expression of wooden composure. - - [Illustration: _Stereograph copyrighted by the H. C. White Co._ - - MARSHAL OYAMA - - COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF IN MANCHURIA OF THE JAPANESE ARMY DURING THE - RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR] - -In all the public schools prominence was given to military exercises, -and the pupils took part in them with enthusiasm. Even in their walks -they practised running, flanking, and sudden, unexpected attacks of -one party on another. The history of Japan was everywhere made a means -of strengthening the pupils' patriotism and their belief in Japan's -invincibility. Particular stress was laid upon the country's successful -wars, the heroes of them were extolled, and the children were taught -that none of Japan's military enterprises had ever failed. - - -_Japan's Material Resources_ - -In the manufactories of arms I saw the turning out of rifles in immense -numbers, and the work was being done swiftly, accurately, and cheaply. -In Kobe and Nagasaki I inspected attentively the ship-building yards, -where they were constructing not only torpedo boats but armored -cruisers, and where all the work was being done by their own mechanics -and foremen under the direction of their own engineers. At the great -national exposition in Osaka there was a splendid and instructive -display of the country's manufactures, including textiles, products of -cottage industry, complicated instruments, grand pianos, and guns of -the largest caliber--all made in Japan, by Japanese workmen, and out of -Japanese materials. I saw nothing of foreign origin except raw cotton -and iron, which were imported from China and Europe. And the products -displayed at this exposition were not more worthy of attention than the -observant, courteous, and always dignified throng of Japanese visitors. - -In the agriculture of Japan many of the methods were ancient, but the -culture was unquestionably high. The fields were carefully worked, -and the effort to make every foot of land yield all that it could, -the struggle to raise crops even on the mountain sides, and the -insufficiency of the country's food products despite this intensive -culture, showed that the people were becoming overcrowded on their -islands, and that the Korean question was for them a question of vital -importance. I lived ten days among the fishermen, and saw something -of the reverse side of Japan's rapid development under European -conditions. Many complaints were made to me of heavy taxes, which -had increased greatly in later years, and of the high cost of the -necessaries of life. - -I witnessed reviews of the Japanese troops, including the division -of Guards, two regiments of the First Division, two regiments of -cavalry, and many batteries. The marching was admirable, and the -common soldiers appeared like our younkers. The officers and leaders -of the Japanese army whom I saw and met made upon me a very favorable -impression. The culture and knowledge of military affairs that many -of them possessed would have given them places of honor in any army. -With General Terauchi, the Japanese Minister of War, I had had -friendly relations ever since 1886, when we met in France at the -great manoeuvers directed by General Levalle. Among others whose -acquaintance I made were Generals Yamagata, Oyama, Kodama, Fukushima, -Nodzu, Hasegawa, and Murata, and the Imperial princes, Fushimi and -Kanin. In spite of a terrible war, which has separated by a barrier -nations that were apparently created for union and friendship, I -still cherish a sympathetic feeling for my Tokio acquaintances. -Especially do I remember with respect their ardent love of country and -their devotion to their Emperor--feelings that they have since made -manifest in deeds. I met also in Tokio many leaders in fields other -than that of war, among whom were Ito, Katsura, and Komura. In the -report that I made to the Emperor, after my return from Japan, I placed -the military power of the Japanese on a level with that of European -nations. I regarded one of our battalions as equal to two battalions of -Japanese in defence, but I estimated that in attack we should have two -battalions to their one. The test of war has shown that my conclusions -were correct. There were lamentable cases, of course, in which the -Japanese, with a smaller number of battalions, drove our forces from -the positions that they occupied; but these results were due either to -mistakes in the direction of our troops, or to numerical inferiority -in the fighting strength of our battalions. In the last days of the -battle of Mukden, some of our brigades consisted of hardly more than a -thousand bayonets. It is evident that the Japanese had to put into the -field only two or three battalions in order to deal successfully with a -brigade of such depleted strength. - -All that I saw and learned of Japan, or her military strength, and of -the nature of her problems in the Far East, convinced me that it would -be necessary for us to come to a peaceable understanding with her, and -that we should have to make great concessions--concessions that, at -first sight, might seem humiliating to our national pride--in order to -avoid war with her. As I have already said, I did not hesitate even -to propose the return of Port Arthur and Kwang-tung to China and the -sale of the southern branch of the Eastern Chinese Railway. I foresaw -that the threatened war would be extremely unpopular in Russia; that -there would be no manifestation of patriotic spirit, on account of the -people's ignorance of the objects of the war; and that the leaders of -the anti-Government party would avail themselves of the opportunity -to increase domestic discontent and disorder. I did not, however, -anticipate that the Japanese would display so much energy, activity, -courage, and lofty patriotism, and I therefore erred in my estimate of -the time that the struggle would require. In view of the insufficiency -of our railroad transportation, we should have allowed three years for -the war, instead of the year and a half that I thought would be enough. - -With all their strong points, the Japanese manifested weaknesses that -may be shown again in future wars. I shall not enumerate them, but I -will say that, in many cases, the outcome of the fight was in doubt, -and that in other cases we escaped defeat only through the errors of -the Japanese commanders. There is a saying that "the victor is not -judged." I may add that to the victor is rendered homage, and this is -true of the Japanese. The general tone of the whole press was favorable -to them, and even their practical and well-balanced heads might well -have been turned by the praise that they received. No one went further -in this direction than Count Leo Tolstoi. In an article published in -a foreign journal,[E] our gifted author and philosopher expressed -the conviction that the Japanese defeated us because, owing to their -warlike patriotism and the power of their ruling authorities, they are -the mightiest nation on earth, and are not to be conquered by any one, -either at sea or on land. - - [Illustration: _Stereograph copyrighted by Underwood & Underwood_ - - JAPANESE ARMY TRANSPORTATION CORPS MOVING ONE OF THE GREAT SIEGE GUNS - WHICH WERE USED IN THE DESTRUCTION OF PORT ARTHUR] - -The strength of Japan was in the complete union of her people, army, -and government, and it was this union that gave her the victory. We -carried on the contest with our army alone, and even the army was -weakened by the unfavorable disposition of the people toward all things -military. Our aims in the Far East were not understood by our officers -and soldiers, and, furthermore, the general feeling of discontent -which already prevailed in all classes of our population made the war -so hateful that it aroused no patriotism whatever. Many good officers -hastened to offer their services--a fact that is easily explained--but -all ranks of society remained indifferent. A few hundreds of the common -people volunteered, but no eagerness to enter the army was shown by the -sons of our high dignitaries, of our merchants, or of our scientific -men. Out of the tens of thousands of students who were then living -in idleness,[F] many of them at the expense of the Empire, only a -handful volunteered,[G] while at that very time, in Japan, sons of the -most distinguished citizens--even boys fourteen and fifteen years of -age--were striving for places in the ranks. Japanese mothers, as I have -already said, killed themselves through shame, when their sons were -found to be physically unfit for military service. - - -_Russian Discipline Undermined by the Revolutionists_ - -The indifference of Russia to the bloody struggle which her sons were -carrying on--for little understood objects and in a foreign land--could -not fail to discourage even the best soldiers. Men are not inspired -to deeds of heroism by such an attitude toward them on the part of -their country. But Russia was not merely indifferent. Leaders of the -revolutionary party strove, with extraordinary energy, to multiply our -chances of failure, hoping thus to facilitate the attainment of their -own dark objects. There appeared a whole literature of clandestine -publications, intended to lessen the confidence of officers in their -superiors, to shake the trust of soldiers in their officers, and to -undermine the faith of the whole army in the Government. In an "Address -to the Officers of the Russian Army," published and widely circulated -by the Social Revolutionists, the main idea was expressed as follows: - -"The worst and most dangerous enemy of the Russian people--in fact, its -only enemy--is the present Government. It is this Government that is -carrying on the war with Japan, and you are fighting under its banners -in an unjust cause. Every victory that you win threatens Russia with -the calamity involved in the maintenance of what the Government calls -'order,' and every defeat that you suffer brings nearer the hour of -deliverance. Is it surprising, therefore, that Russians rejoice when -your adversary is victorious?" - -But persons who had nothing in common with the Social Revolutionary -party, and who sincerely loved their country, gave aid to Russia's -enemies by expressing the opinion, in the press, that the war was -irrational, and by criticizing the mistakes of the Government that had -failed to prevent it. In a brochure entitled "Thoughts Suggested by -Recent Military Operations," M. Gorbatoff referred to such persons as -follows: - -"But it is a still more grievous fact that while our heroic soldiers -are carrying on a life-and-death struggle, these so-called friends of -the people whisper to them: 'Gentlemen, you are heroes, but you are -facing death without reason. You will die to pay for Russia's mistaken -policy, and not to defend Russia's vital interests.' What can be more -terrible than the part played by these so-called friends of the people -when they undermine in this way the intellectual faith of heroic men -who are going to their death? One can easily imagine the state of -mind of an officer or soldier who goes into battle after reading, -in newspapers or magazines, articles referring in this way to the -irrationality and uselessness of the war. It is from these self-styled -friends of the people that the revolutionary party gets support in its -effort to break down the discipline of our troops." - -Soldiers of the reserves, when called into active service, were -furnished by the anti-Government party with proclamations intended -to prejudice them against their officers, and similar proclamations -were sent to the army in Manchuria. Troops in the field received -letters apprising them of popular disorders in Russia, and men sick in -hospitals, as well as men on duty in our advanced positions, read in -the newspapers articles that undermined their faith in their commanders -and their leaders. The work of breaking down the discipline of the army -was carried on energetically, and, of course, it was not altogether -fruitless. The leaders of the movement, in striving to attain their -well defined objects, took for their motto: "The worse things are, the -better"; and the ideal at which they aimed was the state of affairs -brought about by the mutinous sailors on the armor-clad warship -"Potemkin." These enemies of the army and the country were aided by -certain other persons who were simply foolish and unreasonable. One can -imagine the indignation that the Menchikoffs, the Kirilloffs and the -Kuprins would feel, if they were told that they played the same part in -the army that was played by the persons who incited the insubordination -on the "Potemkin"; yet such was the case. It would be difficult, -indeed, to imagine anything that could have been said to the sailors of -the armor-clad for the purpose of exciting them against their officers -that would have been worse than the language of Menchikoff, when, in -writing of our army officers, he referred to their "blunted conscience, -their drunkenness, their moral looseness, and their inveterate -laziness." Firm in spirit though Russians might be, the indifference of -one class of the population, and the seditious incitement of another, -could hardly fail to have upon many of them an influence that was not -favorable to the successful prosecution of war. - - -_Attacks of the Russian Press_ - - [Illustration: _Copyrighted by Underwood & Underwood_ - - SCENE IN SHIBA PARK, TOKIO, WHERE TOGO'S NAVAL VICTORY WAS CELEBRATED - WITH WILD ENTHUSIASM] - -The party opposed to the Government distributed among our troops, -especially in the West, hundreds of thousands of seditious -proclamations exhorting the soldiers to work for defeat rather than -for victory. Writers for newspapers and magazines, even though they -did not belong to the anti-Government party, contributed to its -success by lavishing abuse upon the army and its representatives. War -correspondents, who knew little about our operations and still less -about those of the Japanese, and who based their statements, not upon -what they had seen, but upon what they had heard from untrustworthy -sources, increased the disaffection of the people by exaggerating the -seriousness of our failures. Even army officers, writing from the -theatre of war, or after returning to Russia for reasons that were -not always creditable to them, sought to gain reputation by means of -hasty criticism which was often erroneous in its statements of fact and -generally discouraging or complaining in tone. On the fighting line, -heroic men without number faced and fought the enemy courageously for -months, without ever losing their faith in ultimate victory; but from -that part of the field little trustworthy news came. Brave soldiers, -modest junior officers, and the commanders of regiments, companies, -squadrons, and batteries in our advanced positions, did not write and -had no time to write of their own labors and exploits, and few of the -correspondents were willing to share their perils for the sake of being -able to observe and describe their heroic deeds. There were among the -correspondents some brave men who sincerely wished to be of use; but -their lack of even elementary training in military science made it -impossible for them to understand the complicated problems of war, and -their work therefore was comparatively unproductive. The persons best -qualified to see and judge, and to give information to the reading -public, were the foreign military observers, who were attached to our -armies in the field and who, in many cases, were extremely fortunate -selections. These officers felt a brotherly affection for the soldiers -whose perils and hardships they shared, and were regarded by the latter -with love and esteem. Their reports, however, are very long in coming -to us. - - [Illustration: _Stereograph copyrighted by the H. C. White Co._ - - JAPANESE ARTILLERY TRANSPORTING A 7-1/2 C. M. MOUNTAIN GUN ACROSS THE - HILLS] - -Some of our correspondents, who lived in the rear of the army and saw -the seamy side of the war, wrote descriptions of drunkenness, revelry, -and profligacy (at Kharbin, for example) which distressed our reading -public and gave a one-sided view of army life. Our press might have -made our first defeats a means of rousing the spirit of patriotism -and self-sacrifice; it might have exhorted the people to redouble -their efforts as the difficulties of the war increased; it might have -helped the Government to fill the gaps in our thinned ranks; it might -have encouraged the faint-hearted, called forth the country's noblest -sons, and opened to the army new sources of material and spiritual -strength. But instead of doing any of these things, it played more or -less into the hands of our foreign and domestic enemies; made the war -hateful to the great mass of the population; depressed the spirits of -soldiers going to the front, and undermined, in every way, the latter's -faith in their officers and their rulers. This course of procedure -did not rouse in the nation a determination to increase its efforts -and to win victory at last, in spite of all difficulties. Quite the -contrary! The soldiers who went to the front to fill up or reinforce -our army carried with them seditious proclamations and the seeds of -future defeats. Commanding officers in the Siberian military districts -reported, as early as February, that detachments of supernumerary -troops and reservists had plundered several railway stations, and at -a later time regular troops, on their way to the front, were guilty -of similar bad conduct. The drifting to the rear of large numbers -of soldiers--especially the older reservists--while battles were in -progress, was due not so much to cowardice as to the unsettling of -the men's minds and to a disinclination on their part to continue the -war. I may add that the opening of peace negotiations in Portsmouth, -at a time when we were preparing for decisive operations, affected -unfavorably the morale of the army's strongest elements. - - -_The Russian Army Cut Off from the Nation_ - -Mr. E. Martinoff, in an article entitled "Spirit and Temper of the -Two Armies," points out that "even in time of peace, the Japanese -people were so educated as to develop in them a patriotic and martial -spirit. The very idea of war with Russia was generally popular, and -throughout the contest the army was supported by the sympathy of the -nation. In Russia, the reverse was true. Patriotism was shaken by the -dissemination of ideas of cosmopolitanism and disarmament, and in the -midst of a difficult campaign the attitude of the country toward the -army was one of indifference, if not of actual hostility." - -This judgment is accurate, and it is evident, of course, that with -such a relation between Russian society and the Manchurian army, it -was impossible to expect from the latter any patriotic spirit, or -any readiness to sacrifice life for the sake of the fatherland. In -an admirable article entitled "The Feeling of Duty and the Love of -Country," published in the "Russian Invalid" in 1906, Mr. A. Bilderling -expressed certain profoundly true ideas as follows: - -"Our lack of success may have been due, in part, to various and -complicated causes; to the misconduct of particular persons, to bad -generalship, to lack of preparation in the army and the navy, to -inadequacy of material resources, and to misappropriations in the -departments of equipment and supply; but the principal reason for our -defeat lies deeper, and is to be found in lack of patriotism, and in -the absence of a feeling of duty toward and love for the fatherland. -In a conflict between two peoples, the things of most importance are -not material resources, but moral strength, exaltation of spirit, and -patriotism. Victory is most likely to be achieved by the nation in -which these qualities are most highly developed. Japan had long been -preparing for war with us; all of her people desired it; and a feeling -of lofty patriotism pervaded the whole country. In her army and her -fleet, therefore, every man, from the commander-in-chief to the last -soldier, not only knew what he was fighting for and what he might have -to die for, but understood clearly that upon success in the struggle -depended the fate of Japan, her political importance, and her future in -the history of the world. Every soldier knew also that the whole nation -stood behind him. With us, on the other hand, the war was unpopular -from the very beginning. We neither desired it nor anticipated it, and, -consequently, we were not prepared for it. Soldiers were hastily put -into railway trains, and when, after a journey that lasted a month, -they alighted in Manchuria, they did not know in what country they -were, nor whom they were to fight, nor what the war was about. Even our -higher commanders went to the front unwillingly and from a mere sense -of duty. The whole army, moreover, felt that it was regarded by the -country with indifference; that its life was not shared by the people; -and that it was a mere fragment, cut off from the nation, thrown to a -distance of nine thousand versts, and there abandoned to the caprice of -fate. Before decisive fighting began, therefore, one of the contending -armies advanced with the full expectation and confident belief that it -would be victorious, while the other went forward with a demoralizing -doubt of its own success." - -Generally speaking, the man who conquers in war is the man who is -least afraid of death. We were unprepared in previous wars, as well -as in this, and in previous wars we made mistakes; but when the -preponderance of moral strength was on our side, as in the wars with -the Swedes, the French, the Turks, the Caucasian mountaineers and the -natives of Central Asia, we were victorious. In the late war, for -reasons that are extremely complicated, our moral strength was less -than that of the Japanese; and it was this inferiority, rather than -mistakes in generalship, that caused our defeats, and that forced us -to make tremendous efforts in order to succeed at all. Our lack of -moral strength--as compared with the Japanese--affected all ranks of -our army, from the highest to the lowest, and greatly reduced our -fighting power. In a war waged under different conditions--a war in -which the army had the confidence and encouragement of the country--the -same officers and the same troops would have accomplished far more -than they accomplished in Manchuria. The lack of martial spirit, of -moral exaltation, and of heroic impulse, affected particularly our -stubbornness in battle. In many cases we did not have dogged resolution -enough to conquer such antagonists as the Japanese. Instead of holding, -with unshakable tenacity, the positions assigned them, our troops often -retreated, and, in such cases, our commanding officers of all ranks, -without exception, lacked the power or the means to set things right. -Instead of making renewed and extraordinary efforts to wrest victory -from the enemy, they either permitted the retreat of the troops under -their command, or themselves ordered such retreat. The army, however, -never lost its strong sense of duty; and it was this that enabled -many divisions, regiments, and battalions to increase their power -of resistance with every battle. This peculiarity of the late war, -together with our final acquirement of numerical preponderance and a -noticeable decline of Japanese ardor, gave us reason to regard the -future with confidence, and left no room for doubt as to our ultimate -victory. - - -_The Failure of the Russian Fleet_ - -Among other reasons for the success of the Japanese, I may mention the -following. - -The leading part in the war was to have been taken by our fleet. In the -General Staff of the navy, as well as in that of the army, a detailed -account was kept of all Japan's ships of war; but the directors -of naval affairs in the Far East reckoned only tonnage, guns, and -calibers, and when, in 1903, they found that the arithmetical totals -of our Far Eastern fleet exceeded those of the entire Japanese fleet, -they adopted, as a basis for our plan of operations, the following -conclusions: - -1. "The relation that the strength of the Japanese fleet bears to the -strength of our fleet is such that the possibility of the defeat of the -latter is inadmissible." - -2. "The landing of the Japanese at Yinkow, or in Korea Bay, is not to -be regarded as practicable." - -The strength of the land force that a war with Japan would require -depended upon three things: (1) the strength of the army that the -Japanese could put into Manchuria, or across our boundary; (2) the -strength of our fleet; and (3) the transporting capacity of the railway -upon which our troops would have to depend in concentration. If our -fleet could defeat the fleet of the Japanese, military operations on -the main land would be unnecessary. And even if the Japanese were -not defeated in a general naval engagement, they would either have -to obtain complete mastery of the sea, or leave a considerable part -of their army at home for the protection of their own coast. Without -command of the sea, moreover, they could not risk a landing on the -Liao-tung peninsula, but would have to march through Korea, and that -would give us time for concentration. By their desperate night attack -upon our fleet at Port Arthur, before the declaration of war,[H] they -obtained a temporary superiority in armored vessels, and made great -use of it in getting command of the sea. Our fleet--especially after -the death of Admiral Makaroff at the most critical moment in the -execution of the Japanese plan of campaign--offered no resistance to -the enemy whatever. Even when they landed in the immediate vicinity of -Port Arthur, we did not make so much as an attempt to interfere with -them. The results of this inaction were very damaging to our army. The -Japanese, instead of finding it impossible to land troops in Korea Bay, -as our naval authorities anticipated, were able to threaten us with a -descent along the whole coast of the Liao-tung peninsula, beginning at -Kwang-tung. Notwithstanding our weakness on land, Admiral Alexeieff -thought it necessary to authorize a wide scattering of our troops, so -we prepared to meet the Japanese on the Yalu, at Yinkow, and in the -province of Kwang-tung. He had also permitted a dispersal of our naval -forces, so that we were weak everywhere. - - -_Advantages Secured by Japan's Naval Victory_ - -Instead of making a landing in Korea only,--as was anticipated in the -plan worked out at Port Arthur,--the Japanese, with their immense fleet -of transports, landed three armies on the Liao-tung peninsula and a -fourth in Korea. Then, leaving one army in front of Port Arthur, they -pushed the other three forward toward our forces, Which were slowly -concentrating on the Haicheng-Liaoyang line in southern Manchuria. -Thus, having taken the initiative at sea, they obtained the same -advantage on land. Their command of the sea enabled them to disregard -the defence of their own coast and move against us with their entire -strength. In this way--contrary to our anticipations--they were able, -in the first stage of the war, to put into the field a force that was -superior to ours. Command of the sea, moreover, made it possible for -them to supply their armies quickly with all necessary munitions, and -to transport to the field, in a few days, masses of heavy supplies, -which we, with our feeble railroad, were hardly able to get in months. -But command of the sea, and the almost complete inactivity of our -fleet, gave them another advantage, not less important, and that -was the possibility of bringing safely to their ports and arsenals -quantities of commissary and military stores, weapons, horses, and -cattle, which had been ordered in Europe and America. Their line of -communications, furthermore, was short and secure, while we were at -a distance of eight thousand versts from our base of supplies and -were connected with our country only by one weak line of railway. The -advantage that they had over us in this respect was immense. The slow -concentration of our army, which had to be brought eight thousand -versts over a single-track railroad, gave them time, after the war -began, to form new bodies of troops, in considerable numbers, and send -them to the front. They had time enough, also, to supply their army -with innumerable machine guns, after they had observed, in the early -stages of the war, the importance of machine-gun fire. - -The field of military operations in Manchuria had been familiar to the -Japanese ever since their war with China. Its heat, its heavy rains, -its mountains and its kiaoliang, were well known to them, because they -had seen them all in their own country. In the mountains, especially, -they felt perfectly at home, while a mountainous environment, to our -troops, was oppressive. The Japanese, moreover, in their ten years of -preparation for war with us, had not only studied Manchuria, but had -secured there their own agents, who were of the greatest use to their -army. The Chinese, I may add, assisted the Japanese, notwithstanding -the severity and even cruelty with which the latter treated them. - -The Japanese had a considerable advantage over us, also, in their -high-powered ammunition, their machine guns, their innumerable mountain -guns, their abundant supply of explosives, and their means of attack -and defence in the shape of wire, mines, and hand grenades. Their -organization, equipment, and transport carts were all better adapted -to the field of operations than ours were, and their bodies of sappers -were more numerous than ours. - -The Japanese soldiers had been so trained as to develop self-reliance -and ability to take the lead, and they were credited by foreign -military observers with "intelligence, initiative, and quickness," In -the fighting instructions that were given them, very material changes -were made after the war began. At the outset, for example, night -attacks were not recommended; but they soon satisfied themselves that -night attacks were profitable and they afterward made great use of -them. Major von Luwitz, of the German army, in a brochure entitled "The -Japanese Attack in the War in Eastern Asia in 1904-05" says that while -the Japanese did not neglect any means of making attacks effective, the -secret of their success lay in their determination to get close to the -enemy, regardless of consequences. - - -_The Intellectual Superiority of the Japanese Soldier_ - -The non-commissioned officers in the Japanese army were much superior -to ours, on account of the better education and greater intellectual -development of the Japanese common people. Many of them might have -discharged the duties of commissioned officers with perfect success. -The defects of our soldiers--both regulars and reservists--were the -defects of the population as a whole. The peasants were imperfectly -developed intellectually, and they made soldiers who had the same -failing. The intellectual backwardness of our soldiers was a great -disadvantage to us, because war now requires far more intelligence and -initiative, on the part of the individual soldier, than ever before. -Our men fought heroically in compact masses, or in fairly close -formation, but if deprived of their officers they were more likely to -fall back than to advance. In the mass we had immense strength; but few -of our soldiers were capable of fighting intelligently as individuals. -In this respect the Japanese were much superior to us. Their -non-commissioned officers were far better developed, intellectually, -than ours, and among such officers, as well as among many of the -common soldiers, whom we took as prisoners, we found diaries which -showed not only good education but knowledge of what was happening and -intelligent comprehension of the military problems to be solved. Many -of them could draw maps skilfully, and one common soldier was able to -show accurately, by means of a plan sketched in the sand, the relative -positions of the Japanese forces and ours. - -But the qualities that contributed most to the triumph of the Japanese -were their high moral spirit, and the stubborn determination with which -the struggle for success was carried on by every man in their army, -from the common soldier to the commander-in-chief. In many cases, their -situation was so distressing that it required extraordinary power -of will on their part to stand fast or to advance. But the officers -seemed to have resolution enough to call on their men for impossible -efforts--not even hesitating to shoot those that fell back--and the -soldiers, rallying their last physical and spiritual strength, often -wrested the victory away from us. One thing is certain: if the whole -Japanese army had not been inspired with an ardent patriotism; if it -had not been sympathetically supported by the whole nation; and if all -its officers and soldiers had not appreciated the immense importance -of the struggle, even such resolution as that of the Japanese leaders -would have failed to achieve such results. - - [A] General Kuropatkin makes frequent use of the expression - "moral strength," or "moral character," and often employs the - English word "moral" instead of the corresponding Russian word. - He evidently intends that the adjective shall be understood in - its broadest signification, as a term covering patriotism, the - sense of duty, capacity for self-sacrifice, and all the qualities - that go to make up character as distinct from mere intellectual - ability.--G. K. - - [B] Considerations of space have forced me to omit the greater - part of General Kuropatkin's detailed and somewhat technical - statement with regard to Japan's military strength and the extent - to which it was underestimated by the Russian General Staff.--G. K. - - [C] According to information contained in Immanuel's work, "The - Russo-Japanese War," the Japanese lost 218,000 men in battle. - - [D] General Kuropatkin uses the English words "materially" and - "morally."--G. K. - - [E] _Fortnightly Review._ - - [F] On account of student disorders that had led to the closing of - the universities.--G. K. - - [G] Medical students excepted. - - [H] General Kuropatkin, it will be noticed, calls this night - attack "desperate," but does not characterize it as treacherous - or unfair. At the time when it occurred, however, the Russian - Government denounced it as a dishonorable violation of civilized - usage, if not of international law, while the loyal Russian - press held Japan up to the scorn of the world as a tricky and - treacherous antagonist. It is an interesting but little known fact - that the Tsar himself had ordered Admiral Alexeieff to attack - the Japanese in the same way, without notice and before any - declaration of war had been made. In the historically important - series of official dispatches from the archives of Port Arthur, - published in the liberal Russian review "Osvobozhdenie" at - Stuttgart in 1905 appears the following telegram sent by the Tsar - to the Viceroy just after the Japanese had broken off diplomatic - relations. - - ST. PETERSBURG, JANUARY 26, 1904, O. S. - - ALEXEIEFF - - PORT ARTHUR. - - It is desirable that the Japanese, and not we, should begin - military operations. If, therefore, they do not attack us, you - must not oppose their landing in southern Korea, or on the eastern - coast as far north as Gensan, inclusive. But if their fleet makes - a descent upon the western coast, or, without making a descent, - goes north of the 38th parallel, you are authorized to attack - them, without waiting for the first shot from their side. I rely - on you. May God assist you. - - (Signed) - - NICHOLAS - - (Signature in the Tsar's own hand) - - It thus appears that Russia intended to attack Japan without - notice and without a declaration of war, but Alexeieff was not - quick enough--G. K. - - - - - [Illustration] - -THE DEATH OF HENRY IRVING - -BY ELLEN TERRY - -ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS - -_Copyright, 1908, by Ellen Terry (Mrs. Carew)_ - - -I have now nearly finished the history of my fifty years upon the stage. - -A good deal has been left out through want of skill in selection. Some -things have been included which perhaps it would have been wiser to -omit. I have tried my best to tell "all things faithfully," and it is -possible that I have given offence where offence was not dreamed of; -that some people will think that I should not have said this, while -others, approving of "this," will be quite certain that I ought not to -have said "that." - -"One said it thundered ... another that an angel spake----" - -It's the point of view. - -During my struggles with my refractory, fragmentary, and unsatisfactory -memories, I have realised that life itself is a point of view. So if -any one said to me: "And is this, then, what you call your life?" I -should not resent the question one little bit. - -"We have heard," continues my imaginary and disappointed interlocutor, -"a great deal about your life in the theatre. You have told us of plays -and parts and rehearsals, of actors good and bad, of critics and of -playwrights, of success and failure, but after all your whole life has -not been lived in the theatre. Have you nothing to tell us about your -different homes, your family life, your social diversions, your friends -and acquaintances? During your long life there have been great changes -in manners and customs; political parties have altered; a great Queen -has died; your country has been engaged in two or three serious wars. -Did all these things make no impression on you? Can you tell us nothing -of your life in the world?" - -And I have to answer that I have lived very little in the world. After -all, the life of an actress belongs to the theatre, as the life of a -politician to the State. - - * * * * * - -The recognition of my fifty years of stage life by the public and by -my profession was quite unexpected. Henry Irving said to me not long -before his death in 1905 that he believed that they (the theatrical -profession) "intended to celebrate our Jubilee." (If he had lived, he -would have completed his fifty years on the stage in the autumn of -1906.) He said that there would be a monster performance at Drury Lane, -and that already the profession were discussing what form it was to -take. - -After his death, I thought no more of the matter. Indeed, I did not -want to think about it, for any recognition of my Jubilee which did not -include his seemed to me very unnecessary. - - [Illustration: SIR HENRY IRVING - - FROM A PHOTOGRAPH IN THE POSSESSION OF MISS EVELYN SMALLEY] - - [Illustration: _From the collection of Miss Evelyn Smalley_ - - "OLIVIA" - - DRAWN BY SIR EDWIN HENRY FOR MISS HENRY'S JUBILEE PROGRAMME] - -Of course, I was pleased that others thought it necessary. I enjoyed -all the celebrations. Even the speeches that I had to make did not -spoil my enjoyment. The difficulty was to thank people as they deserved. - -I can never forget that London's youngest newspaper first conceived the -idea of celebrating my stage Jubilee. Of course, the old-established -journals didn't like it, but I suppose no scheme of this kind is ever -organized without some people not liking something! - -The matinée given in my honour at Drury Lane by the theatrical -profession was a wonderful sight. The two things about it which touched -me most deeply were my visit the night before to the crowd who were -waiting to get into the gallery, and the presence of Eleonora Duse, -who came all the way from Florence just to honour me. I appreciated -very much, too, the kindness of Signor Caruso in singing for me. I did -not know him at all, and the gift of his service was essentially the -impersonal desire of an artist to honour another artist. - -When the details of my Jubilee performance at Drury Lane were being -arranged, the committee decided to ask certain distinguished artists -to contribute to the programme. They were all delighted about it, and -such busy men as Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, Mr. Abbey, Mr. Byam Shaw, -Mr. Walter Crane, Mr. Bernard Partridge, Mr. James Pryde, Mr. Orpen, -and Mr. William Nicholson all gave some of their work to me. Mr. -Sargent was asked if he would allow the first Lady Macbeth sketch to -be reproduced. He found that it would not reproduce well, so in the -height of the season and of his work with fashionable sitters, he did -an entirely new sketch, in black and white, of the same subject! This -act of kind friendship I could never forget, even if the picture were -not in front of me at this minute to remind me of it! "You must think -of me as one of the people bowing down to you in the picture," he wrote -to me when he sent the new version for the programme. Nothing during my -Jubilee celebrations touched me more than this wonderful kindness of -Mr. Sargent's. - -Burne-Jones would have done something for my Jubilee programme too, -I think, had he lived. He was one of my kindest friends, and his -letters--he was a heaven-born letter-writer--were like no one else's, -full of charm and humour and feeling. Once, when I sent him a trifle -for some charity, he wrote me this particularly charming letter: - -"Dear Lady, - -"This morning came the delightful crinkly paper that always means -you! If anybody else ever used it, I think I should assault them! I -certainly wouldn't read their letter or answer it. - -"And I know the cheque will be very useful. If I thought much about -those wretched homes, or saw them often, I should do no more work, I -know. There is but one thing to do--to help with a little money if you -can manage it, and then try hard to forget. Yes, I am certain that I -should never paint again if I saw much of those hopeless lives that -have no remedy.... - -"You would always have been lovely and made some beauty about you if -you had been born there--but I should have got drunk and beaten my -family and been altogether horrible! When everything goes just as I -like, and painting prospers a bit, and the air is warm, and friends -well, and everything perfectly comfortable, I can just manage to behave -decently, and a spoilt fool I am--that's the truth. But wherever you -were, some garden would grow. - -"Yes, I know Winchelsea and Rye and Lynn and Hythe--all bonny places, -and Hythe has a church it may be proud of. Under the sea is another -Winchelsea, a poor drowned city--about a mile out at sea, I think, -always marked in old maps as 'Winchelsea Dround.' If ever the sea goes -back on that changing coast, there may be great fun when the spires and -towers come up again. It's a pretty land to drive in. - -"I am growing downright stupid--I can't work at all, nor think of -anything. Will my wits ever come back to me? - - [Illustration: _From the collection of Miss Evelyn Smalley_ - - _Copyright by Window & Grove_ - - ELLEN TERRY AS HERMIONE IN "THE WINTER'S TALE" - - THE PART PLAYED BY MISS TERRY AT HIS MAJESTY'S THEATRE IN 1906] - -"And when are you coming back--when will the Lyceum be in its rightful -hands again? I refuse to go there till you come back...." - - * * * * * - -One of those little things almost too good to be true happened at -the close of the Drury Lane matinée. A four-wheeler was hailed for -me by the stage-door keeper, and my daughter and I drove off to Lady -Bancroft's in Berkeley Square to leave some flowers. Outside the -house, the cabman told my daughter that in old days he had often -driven Charles Kean from the Princess Theatre, and that sometimes the -little Miss Terrys were put inside the cab too and given a lift! My -daughter thought it such an extraordinary coincidence that the old -man should have come to the stage door of Drury Lane by a mere chance -on my Jubilee day, that she took his address, and I was to send him a -photograph and remuneration. But I promptly lost the address, and was -never able to trace the old man. - - [Illustration: 150 GRAFTON STREET - - THE HOUSE WHERE HENRY IRVING LIVED DURING THE PERIOD OF HIS LYCEUM - MANAGEMENT] - -I was often asked during these Jubilee days, "how I felt about it all," -and I never could answer sensibly. The strange thing is that I don't -know even now what was in my heart. Perhaps it was one of my chief joys -that I had not to say good-bye at any of the celebrations. I could -still speak to my profession as a fellow-comrade on the active list and -to the public as one still in their service. - -All the time I knew perfectly well that the great show of honour and -"friending" was not for me alone. Never for one instant did I forget -this, nor that the light of the great man by whose side I had worked -for a quarter of a century was still shining on me from his grave. - - * * * * * - -It is commonly known, I think, that Henry Irving's health first began -to fail in 1896. - -He went home to Grafton Street after the first night of the revival -of "Richard III." and slipped on the stairs, injuring his knee. With -characteristic fortitude, he struggled to his feet unassisted and -walked to his room. This made the consequences of the accident far more -serious, and he was not able to act for weeks. - -It was a bad year at the Lyceum. - -In 1898, when we were on tour, he caught a chill. Inflammation of the -lungs, bronchitis, pneumonia followed. His heart was affected. He was -never really well again. - -When I think of his work during the next seven years, I could weep! -Never was there a more admirable, extraordinary worker; never was any -one more splendid-couraged and patient. - -The seriousness of his illness in 1898 was never really known. He -nearly died. - -"I am still fearfully anxious about H," I wrote to my daughter at the -time. "It will be a long time at the best before he gains strength.... -But now I do hope for the best. I'm fairly well so far. All he wants is -for me to keep my health, not my head. He knows I'm doing that! Last -night I did three acts of Sans-Gêne and Nance Oldfield thrown in! That -is a bit too much--awful work--and I can't risk it again. - -"A telegram just came: 'Steadily improving.' ... You should have seen -Norman[I] as Shylock! It was not a bare 'get-through.' It was--the -first night--an admirable performance, as well as a plucky one.... H. -is more seriously ill than anyone dreams.... His look! Like the last -act of Louis XI." - - [Illustration: HENRY IRVING AS BECKET - - THE PART IN WHICH IRVING MADE HIS LAST APPEARANCE ON OCTOBER 13, 1905, - THE NIGHT OF HIS DEATH] - -In 1902, on the last provincial tour that we ever went together, he -was ill again, but he did not give in. One night when his cough was -rending him, and he could hardly stand up for weakness, he acted so -brilliantly and strongly that it was easy to believe in Christian -Science "treatment." Strange to say, a newspaper man noticed the -splendid power of his performance that night and wrote of it with -uncommon discernment--a _provincial_ critic, by the way. - -In London, at the time, they were always urging Henry Irving to produce -new plays by new playwrights! But in the face of the failure of most of -the new work, and of his departing strength--and of the extraordinary -support given him in the old plays (during this 1902 tour we took -£4,000 at Glasgow in one week!)--Henry took the wiser course in doing -nothing but the old plays to the end of the chapter. - -I realised how near, not only the end of the chapter, but the end of -the book was when he was taken ill at Wolverhampton in the spring of -1905. - -We had not acted together for more than two years then, and times were -changed indeed. - -I went down to Wolverhampton when the news of his illness reached -London. I arrived late and went to an hotel. It was not a good hotel, -nor could I find a very good florist when I got up early the next -day and went out with the intention of buying Henry some flowers. I -wanted some bright-coloured ones for him--he had always liked bright -flowers--and this florist dealt chiefly in white flowers--_funeral_ -flowers. - -At last I found some daffodils--my favourite flower. I bought a bunch, -and the kind florist, whose heart was in the right place if his flowers -were not, found me a nice simple glass to put it in. I knew the sort of -vase that I should find at Henry's hotel. - -I remembered, on my way to the doctor's--for I had decided to see the -doctor first--that in 1892, when my dear mother died, and I did not -act for a few nights, when I came back, I found my room at the Lyceum -filled with daffodils. "To make it look like sunshine," Henry said. - -The doctor talked to me quite frankly. - -"His heart is dangerously weak," he said. - -"Have you told him?" I asked. - -"I had to, because, the heart being in that condition, he must be -careful." - -"Did he understand _really_?" - -"Oh, yes. He said he quite understood." - -(Yet, a few minutes later when I saw Henry, and begged him to remember -what the doctor had said about his heart, he exclaimed: "Fiddle! It's -not my heart at all! It's my _breath_!" Oh, the ignorance of great men!) - -"I also told him," the Wolverhampton doctor went on, "that he must not -work so hard in future." - -I said; "He will, though,--and he's stronger than any one." - -Then I went round to the hotel. - -I found him sitting up in bed, drinking his coffee. - -He looked like some beautiful gray tree that I have seen in Savannah. -His old dressing-gown hung about his frail yet majestic figure like -some mysterious gray drapery. - -We were both very much moved and said little. - -"I'm glad you've come. Two Queens have been kind to me this morning. -Queen Alexandra telegraphed to say how sorry she was I was ill, and now -you----" - -He showed me the Queen's gracious message. - -I told him he looked thin and ill, but _rested_. - -"Rested! I should think so. I have plenty of time to rest. They tell -me I shall be here eight weeks. Of course I shan't, but still--It -was that rug in front of the door. I tripped over it. A commercial -traveller picked me up--a kind fellow, but damn him, he wouldn't leave -me afterwards--wanted to talk to me all night." - -I remembered his having said this, when I was told by his servant, -Walter Collinson, that on the night of his death at Bradford he -stumbled over the rug when he walked into the hotel corridor. - -We fell to talking about work. He said he hoped that I had a good -manager ... agreed very heartily with me about Frohman, saying he was -always so fair--more than fair. - -"What a wonderful life you've had, haven't you?" I exclaimed, thinking -of it all in a flash. - -"Oh, yes," he said quietly, ... "a wonderful life--of work." - - [Illustration: _Copyright by the London Stereoscopic Co._ - - HENRY IRVING AS MATTHIAS IN "THE BELLS" - - IRVING GAVE HIS LAST PERFORMANCE OF "THE BELLS" AT BRADFORD, ON - OCTOBER 12, 1905, THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS DEATH ] - - [Illustration: _Copyright by the Topical Press Agency_ - - IRVING'S DEATH MASK] - -"And there's nothing better, after all, is there?" - -"Nothing." - -"What have you got out of it all?... You and I are 'getting on,' as -they say. Do you ever think, as I do sometimes, what you have got out -of life?" - -"What have I got out of it?" said Henry, stroking his chin and -smiling slightly. "Let me see.... Well, a good cigar, a good glass of -wine--good friends--" Here he kissed my hand with courtesy. Always he -was so courteous--always his actions, like this little one of kissing -my hand, were so beautifully timed. They came just before the spoken -words, and gave them peculiar value. - -"That's not a bad summing up of it all," I said. "And the end.... How -would you like that to come?" - -"How would I like that to come?" He repeated my question, lightly, yet -meditatively too. Then he was silent for some thirty seconds before he -snapped his fingers--the action again before the words. - -"Like that!" - -I thought of the definition of inspiration--"A calculation quickly -made." Perhaps he had never thought of the manner of his death before. -Now he had an inspiration as to how it would come. - -We were silent a long time, I thinking how like some splendid Doge of -Venice he looked, sitting up in bed, his beautiful mobile hand stroking -his chin. - -I agreed, when I could speak, that to be snuffed out like a candle -would save a lot of trouble. - -After Henry Irving's death in October of the same year, some of his -friends protested against the statement that it was the kind of death -he desired--that they knew, on the contrary, that he thought sudden -death inexpressibly sad. - -I can only say what he told me. - -I stayed with him about three hours at Wolverhampton. Before I left, -I went back to see the doctor again--a very nice man, by the way, and -clever. He told me that Henry ought never to play "The Bells" again, -even if he acted again, which he said ought not to be. - -It was clever of the doctor to see what a terrible emotional strain -"The Bells" put upon Henry--how he never could play the part of -Matthias "on his head," as he could Louis XI., for example. - -Every time he heard the sound of the bells, the throbbing of his heart -must have nearly killed him. He used always to turn quite white--there -was no trick about it. It was imagination acting physically on the body. - - [Illustration: _From the collection of Miss Evelyn Smalley_ - - IRVING'S TOMB IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY] - -His death as Matthias--the death of a strong, robust man--was different -from all his other stage deaths. He did really almost die--he imagined -death with such horrible intensity. His eyes would disappear upwards, -his face grow gray, his limbs cold. - -No wonder, then, that the first time that the Wolverhampton doctor's -warning was disregarded, and Henry played "The Bells" at Bradford, his -heart could not stand the strain. Within twenty-four hours of his last -death as Matthias, he was dead. - -What a heroic thing was that last performance of Becket which came -between! I am told by those who were in the company at the time that -he was obviously suffering and dazed this last night of life. But he -went through it all as usual. All that he had done for years, he did -faithfully for the last time. - -Yes, I know it seems sad to the ordinary mind that he should have -died in the entrance to an hotel in a country town, with no friend, -no relation near him; only his faithful and devoted servant, Walter -Collinson, whom--as was not his usual custom--he had asked to drive -back to the hotel with him that night, was there. Do I not feel the -tragedy of the beautiful body, for so many years the house of a -thousand souls, being laid out in death by hands faithful and devoted -enough, but not the hands of his kindred either in blood or in -sympathy?... - -I do feel it, yet I know it was more appropriate to such a man than -the deathbed where friends and relations weep. Henry Irving belonged -to England, not to a family. England showed that she knew it when she -buried him in Westminster Abbey. - -Years before I had discussed, half in joke, the possibility of this -honour. I remember his saying to me with great simplicity, when I asked -him what he expected of the public after his death: "I should like them -to do their duty by me. And they will--they will!" - -There was not a touch of arrogance in this, just as I hope there was -no touch of heartlessness in me because my chief thought during the -funeral in Westminster Abbey was: "How Henry would have liked it!" -The right note was struck, as I think was not the case at Tennyson's -funeral thirteen years earlier. - -"Tennyson is buried to-day in Westminster Abbey," I wrote in my diary -October 12th, 1892. "His majestic life and death spoke of him better -than the service.... The music was poor and dull and weak while he was -_strong_. The triumphant should have been the sentiment expressed. -Faces one knew everywhere. Lord Salisbury looked fine. His massive head -and sad eyes were remarkable. No face there, however, looked anything -by the side of Henry's.... He looked very pale and slim and wonderful!" - -How terribly I missed that face at Henry's own funeral! I kept on -expecting to see it, for indeed it seemed to me that he was directing -the whole most moving and impressive ceremony.... I could almost hear -him saying "Get on! get on!" in the parts of the service that dragged. -When the sun, such a splendid tawny sun, burst across the solemn misty -gray of the Abbey, at the very moment when the coffin, under its superb -pall of laurel leaves, was carried up to the choir, I felt that it was -an effect which he would have loved. - -I can understand any one who was present at Henry Irving's funeral -thinking that this was his best memorial, and that any attempt to -honour him afterwards would be superfluous and inadequate. But after -all it was Henry Irving's commanding genius and his devotion of it -to high objects, his personal influence on the English people, which -secured him burial among England's great dead. The petition for the -burial, presented to the Dean of the Chapter, and signed on the -initiative of Henry Irving's leading fellow-actors by representative -personages of influence, succeeded only because of Henry's unique -position. - -"We worked very hard to get it done," I heard said more than once. And -I often longed to answer: "Yes, you worked for it between Henry's death -and his funeral. He worked for it all his life!" - -I have always desired some other memorial to Henry Irving than his -honoured grave; not so much for his sake as for the sake of those who -loved him, and would gladly welcome the opportunity of some great test -of their devotion. - -THE END - - [I] Mr. Norman Forbes-Robertson. - - - - -THE VALLEY OF MILLS - -BY H. G. DWIGHT - -WITH A PAINTING BY F. BRANGWYN - -_The American Dragoman narrates to the Second Secretary_ - - -I shall never forget the night I got there. The train went no farther -than Nicomedia in those days, and it took so long that you nearly died -of old age on the way. But when the three red lights on the tail of -it dwindled into the dark, I had the queerest sense of having been -dropped into another world. It was the more so because one couldn't -see an earthly thing--not a star, not even the Gulf which we were to -cross. I only heard the lapping of it, close by, when the rumble of the -train died out of the stillness. That and the crunch of steps on the -sand were all there was to hear, and an occasional word I didn't catch. -The men could hardly have been more silent if our lives had depended -on it. I had no idea how many of them there were, or what they looked -like--much less where they were taking me. They simply hoisted a sail -and put off into the night. I would have sworn, too, that there was -no wind. The sail filled, however: I could see the swaying pallor of -it, and hear the ripple under the bow. And as my eyes got used to the -darkness, I discovered an irregular silhouette in front of us, and a -floating will-o'-the-wisp of a light. The silhouette grew taller and -blacker till the boat grounded under it. Then, by the light of the -will-o'-the-wisp, which was a sputtering oil lantern on shore, I made -out some immense cypresses. You have no idea how eerie that landing -was, in a waterside cemetery that was for all the world like Böcklin's -Island of Death. The men moved like shadows about their Flying -Dutchman of a boat, and their lantern just brought out the ghostliness -of gravestones leaning between the columns of the cypresses. And I -suddenly became aware of the strangest sound. I had no idea what it was -or where it came from, but it was a sort of low moaning that fairly -went into your bones. It grew louder when we started on again. We -climbed an invisible trail where branches slashed at us in the dark, -and all kinds of sharp and sweet and queer smells came put of it in -waves. And nightingales began to sing like mad around us, and off in -the distance somewhere jackals were barking, and under it all that low -moaning went on and on and on. And at last we came out into an open -space on top of the hill, where a bonfire made a hole in the black, and -a couple of naked figures stood redly out in the penumbra of it, with a -ring of faces flickering around them.... - -I found out afterwards that the bonfire business was nothing but a -wrestling match--they had them almost every night on the _meidan_--and -the moaning came from the mill-wheels in the valley. But I never quite -got over that first impression--that sense of walking through all kinds -of things without seeing them. No sooner would I begin to feel a bit at -home than something would bring me up with a jerk and remind me that -I was a stranger in a strange land. I suppose it was natural enough, -considering that I had only just come out then. The place was nothing -but a snarl of muddy lanes and mud shanties, tossed into a filbert -valley where water tumbled down to the Gulf. It was only about fifty -miles away from here, but it might have been five thousand and fifty. -There was none of the contrast with Europe that is always bothering you -here--though perhaps it really sets things off. The people were all -Turks, and their village was Asia pure and simple. That extraordinary -juxtaposition of care and neglect, of the exquisite and the nauseating, -which begins to strike you in Italy, and which strikes you so much more -here, simply went to the top notch there. It was under your eyes--and -nose--every minute. There were rugs and tiles and brasses that you -couldn't keep your hands off of, in houses plastered with cow-dung. And -the people used the gutters for drains, and their principal business -was making attar of rose. You should have seen what gardens there -were, hidden away behind mud-walls! - -What struck me most, though, was a something in it all which I never -could lay my finger on. It seemed incredible that a country inhabited -so long should show so few signs of it. The people might have camped -in a clearing over night, and the woods were just waiting to cover up -their tracks. But the wildness was not the good blank, unconscious -wildness we have at home. There was a melancholy about it. The silence -that hung over the place was really a little uncanny. The mills only -cried it out, in that monotonous minor of theirs. They were picturesque -old wooden things, all green with moss and maidenhair fern, that went -grinding and groaning on forever, and making you wonder what on earth -it was all about. I can't say that I ever found out, either. But I -certainly got grist enough for my own mill. - -For that matter, I don't imagine that I was precisely an open book -myself. In this part of the world they haven't got our passion for -poking around where we don't belong: perhaps they've had more time to -find out how little there is in it. And for a mysterious individual -from lands beyond the sea, whose servant can't be prevented from -bragging of the splendor in which he lives at Constantinople, to bury -himself in a wild country village, must mean something queer. Does one -give up a _konak_ on the Bosphorus for a _khan_ in the Marmora? And -are there no teachers of Turkish in Stamboul? I believe it didn't take -long for the _Moutessarif_ of Nicomedia to find out I was there, and -for him to ascertain in ways best known to himself what I was up to. I -have often wondered what his version of it was. At all events it didn't -prevent the great men of the village from smoking cigarettes of peace -with me in a little vine-shaded coffee-house at the top of the hill. -There was the _Mudir_, a plump and harmless _effendi_ of a governor; -and the _Naïb_, who was some kind of country justice; and a charming -old _Imam_ in a green turban and a white beard and a rose-colored -robe; and a _Tchaouche_, an officer of police, all done up in yellow -braid and brass whistles; and various other personages. And I couldn't -imagine where in the world they had all picked up their courtliness and -conversation. The _Mudir_ was from town, and one or two of the others -had been there; but if such things were to be had for a visit to town -they'd be a little more common at home. Of course, I was asked a good -many questions, and some of them were pretty personal. That is a part -of Oriental etiquette, you will find. It was marvelous, though, what a -_savoir faire_ they had, to say nothing of a sense of life and a few -other things. I couldn't make them out--taken with their vile village -and their half-tamed fields. The thing used to bother me half to death, -too. I thought all I had to do was to sit down and look pleasant and -turn them inside out at my leisure. Whereas more than once I had a -vague feeling, after it was over, of having been turned inside out -myself. Altogether it makes me grin when I remember what an idiotic -young ostrich I was. I have been at the business quite a while now, and -to this day I am never sure of my man--how that Asiatic head of his -will work in any given case. I can only console myself by remembering -that I'm not the only one. In the last two generations I presume there -must have been as many as four Anglo-Saxons--and three of those, -Englishmen--who didn't more or less make jackasses of themselves when -they ran up against Asia. And I fancy it took them rather more than a -year to arrive at even that negative degree of comprehension. - -However, various things went into my hopper first and last, to the tune -of the mill-wheels in the valley--particularly last.... It was lucky -for me that the wireless telegraphy I sometimes felt about me allowed -the _Mudir_ to cultivate his natural inclinations. He was bored enough -in his exile, and I think he was genuinely glad that his advices from -headquarters made him free of my company. I certainly am. I have never -come into just such relations with any of the officials here. He was a -grave, mild, suave personage who might have made an excellent _Cadi_ -of tradition if he had never heard of Paris. As it was, I'm afraid he -took less thought for his peasants' troubles than of the extent to -which they could be made to repay him for his own. He liked to practise -his French on me as much as I liked to practise my Turkish on him, -and on such occasions as I had the honor of squatting at his little -round board, his knowledge of the Occident would manifest itself in an -incredible profusion of spoons. I also discovered that he was by no -means averse to sampling my modest cellar. He didn't care so much about -being found out, though. They are tremendous prohibitionists, you know, -and while the pashas have accepted champagne with their tight trousers, -they're not so public about it. Just watch when you go to your first -court dinner. - -A person of whom I thought more than the _Mudir_, and who interested -me more as a type, was the _Imam_. A more kindly, honest, simple, -delightful old man it has seldom been my luck to meet. He was a Turk -of the old school, without an atom of Europe in his composition. I -wish they were not getting so confoundedly rare. They are worth a -million times more than these Johnnies who pick up the Roman alphabet -and a few half-baked ideas about what we are pleased to call progress. -I took daily lessons from him. He was a mighty theologian--made me -read the Koran, and all that, and was much interested in what I had to -tell him of our own beliefs. He used to make me ashamed of knowing so -little about them. Before he got through with me, he taught me rather -more than was in the bond, I fancy. I had always cherished a notion -that because a Turk could have four wives, and didn't think much of -my chances for the world to come, and was somewhat free in the use of -antidotes to human life, his morality wasn't worth talking about. But I -got something of an eye-opener on that point. - -Altogether, I managed to have a very decent time of it. My pill of -learning the most of the language in the least possible time was so -ingeniously sugared that the business was one prolonged picnic. In -fact, living in a _khan_, as I did at first, is nothing but camping. -They're all about the same, you know. You can see the model any day -over in Stamboul--a rambling stack of galleries round a court of -cattle and wheels, and big bare rooms where twenty people could live. -They often do, too. You spread your own bedding on the wooden divan -surrounding two or three sides of the room, and your servant cooks for -you in a series of little charcoal pits under the huge chimney. It's -rather amusing for a while, if you're not too fussy about smells and -crawling things. I suppose I must have been, for the _Mudir_ eventually -persuaded me to rent a house from an absentee rose-growing pasha. It -was about the only wooden one in the place--a huge rattlety-bang old -affair that stood on the edge of the bluff, a little apart from the -town. It leaked so villainously that I had to sit under an umbrella -every time there was a shower, but the view and the garden made up for -it. I used to prowl around the country a good deal, though. Everything -was so strange to me--the faces, the costumes, the curious implements, -the hairy black buffaloes, the fat-tailed sheep with their dabs of -red dye, the solid-wheeled carts that lamented more loudly, if less -continuously, than the water-wheels, the piratish-looking caravels -strutting up and down the Gulf under a balloon of a mainsail. I took -them by the day, sometimes, to go fishing or exploring. All of which -must have been highly incomprehensible to my astonished neighbors. I -believe my man had to invent some legend of a doctor and a cure to -account for so eccentric a master. It was only when I came more and -more to spend my days among the cypresses on the edge of the beach -that I became less an object of suspicion; for while a Turk is little -of a sportsman and less of mere aimless sight-seer, he likes nothing -better than sitting philosophically under the greenwood tree. - -My greenwood was, as I have said, a cemetery. Heaven knows how long it -had been there. The cypresses were enormously tall and thick and dark. -And the stones under them--with their carved turbans and arabesques, -and their holes and rain-hollows for restless or thirsty ghosts--were -all gray and lichened with time, and pitched every which way between -the coiling roots. You may think it a queer kind of place to sit around -in, but it took my fancy enormously. I don't know--there was something -so still and old about it, and the spring had such a look between the -black trees. It wasn't quite still, either, for that strange, low minor -of the water-wheels was always in your ears. It ran on and on, like the -sound of the quiet and the sunshine and the cypresses and the ancient -stones. And it made all sorts of things go through your head. I presume -that first impression had something to do with it. You wondered whether -the trees would have lived so long if so many dead people had not lain -among their roots. You wondered--I don't know what you didn't wonder. - -As hot weather came on, I used to pack a hammock and reading and -writing and cooking things on a donkey nearly every day, and drop down -through the filberts to my cypresses. There was fairly decent bathing -there, over an outrageous bottom of stones and sea-urchins. What I -liked best, though, was simply to lie around and watch the world go -by. Not that much of it does go by the Gulf of Nicomedia. If it hadn't -been for a sail every now and then, you would have supposed that people -had forgotten all about that little blue pocket of a firth leading -nowhere between its antique hills. Then there were two or three trains -a day, whose black you could just make out, crawling through the green -of the opposite shore. And there was a steamer a day each way that it -was as much as your life was worth to put your foot into. You wouldn't -think so, though, to see the people who packed the decks. Sometimes I -used to go down to the landing for the pleasure of the contrast they -made, solemnly huddled up in their picturesque rags, with the noisy -modern steamer. It was a miracle where so many of them came from and -went to. That's the wildest part of the Marmora, you know, for all -their railroad on the north shore. Some day, I suppose, when German -expresses go thundering through to the Persian Gulf, it'll be all -factory chimneys and summer hotels, like the rest of the world. But -now there's nothing worse than vineyards and tobacco plantations. On -the south coast there's hardly that. The hills stand up pretty straight -out of the water, and they're wooded down to the rocks. You might -think it virgin forest if you didn't know the Nicene Creed came out of -it--to say nothing of invisible villages, and eyes looking out at you -without your knowing. It all gave one such an idea of the extraordinary -wreckage that has been left on the shores of that old Greek Sea. Only -you don't get it as you do here, where races and creeds march past you -on the Bridge while you stand by and admire. There's something more -secret and ancient about it--more like Homer and the Bible and the -Arabian Nights. - -The caravans gave the most telling touch. You don't often see camels -up here any longer, but they're still common enough in the interior. -I could hardly believe my eyes the first time a procession of them -appeared on my beach. First came a man on horseback, with a couple -of Persian saddle-bags to make your mouth water, and then the long -string of camels roped together like barges in a tow. What an air -they had--the fantastic tawny line of them swinging against the blue -of the Gulf! And how softly they padded along the shingle, with the -picturesque ruffians in charge of them throned high among their -mysterious bales! They passed without so much as a turn of the eye, my -Wise Men of the East, and disappeared behind the point as silently as -they came. It gave me the strangest sensation. I had felt something of -the same before. I could scarcely help it, looking out between those -tragic trees at the white strip of beach and the blue strip of sea and -the green strip of hills that were so much like other hills and seas -and beaches and yet so different. But there had never come to me before -quite such a sense of the strangeness of this world where so many -things had been buried from the time of Jason and the Argo--of this -world of which I knew nothing and to which I was nothing. - -You may believe that I was delighted when I went back to the village -that night and found it full of camels. The air was sizzling with -bonfires and _kebabs_--you know those bits of lamb they broil on a long -wooden spit?--and strange faces were at every corner. They filled the -coffee-house, too, when I finally got there. By that time it was too -dark to stare as hard as I would have liked. But perhaps the scene was -all the more picturesque for the shadowy figures scattered under the -vine in the dusk, and the bubble of nargilehs filling the intervals of -talk. A feature would come saliently out here and there in the red of -a cigarette--a shining eye, a hawk nose, a bronzed cheek-bone. And out -on the _meidan_ were groups around fires, with their little pipes that -have all the trouble of the East in them, and their little tomtoms of -such inimitable rhythms. - -I found my friends established as usual in the seat of honor--an old -sofa in the corner of the café--and as usual they made place for me -amongst them. When the ceremony of their welcome subsided, the _Mudir_ -took occasion to whisper to me that the leader of the caravan, an -excellent fellow who had stopped there before, was telling stories. I -then recognized, in the light of the _cafedij's_ lamp, the man I had -seen that afternoon on horseback. He sat on a stool in front of the -divan of honor, and behind him were crowded all the other stools and -mats in the place. Although he had not deigned, before, to turn his -head toward me, he now testified by the depth of his salaam to the -honor he felt in such an addition to his circle. He was a curiously -handsome chap, burnt and bearded, with the high-hung jaw of his people, -the arched brow, the almost Roman nose. And, shaky as I still was in -the language, he didn't leave me long to wonder why he was the center -of the circle. He was a born _raconteur_--one of those story-tellers -who in the East still carry on the tradition of the troubadours. Not -that he sang to us, or recited poetry--although the _Imam_ told me with -pride that the man was a dictionary of the Persian poets. But he went -on with a story he had begun before my entrance. It was one of those -endless old eastern tales that are such a charming mixture of serpent -wisdom and childish _naïveté_. And he told it with a vividness of -gesture and inflection that you never get from print. - -Well, you can imagine! I always had a fancy for that sort of thing, -but it's so deuced hard to get at--at least, for people like us. And -after that queer turn the first sight of the caravan gave me, down -by the water, it made me feel as if I were really beginning to lay -my hand on things at last. So I was disappointed enough when at the -end of the story the party began to break up. Upon my signifying as -much to my neighbor, the _Mudir_, however, he said that nothing would -be easier than to summon the man to a private session. If I would do -him the honor to come to the _konak_--I was tickled enough to take -up with the idea, provided the meeting should take place at my house -instead. I knew there would be bakshish, which I didn't like to put the -_Mudir_ in for, after all he had done. Moreover, I had a whim to get -the camel-driver under my own roof--by way of nailing the East, so to -speak! - -So the upshot of the business was that we made a night of it. Oh, I -don't mean any of your wild and woolly ones. To be sure, we did wet -things down a trifle more than is the custom of the country. There -happened to be a decanter on the table, which the camel-driver looked -at as if he wouldn't mind knowing what it contained; and being a bit -awkward at first, I knew no better than to trot it out. The _Mudir_, to -whom of course I offered it first, wouldn't have any. I suppose he had -his reputation to keep up before an inferior. I was rather surprised, -all the same, for it was plain enough that the camel-driver was by -no means the kind of man the name implies, and a little Greek wine -wouldn't hurt a baby. Moreover, I had heard of this _raki_ of theirs, -which is so much fire-water, and I didn't take their temperance very -seriously. As for the camel-driver, he was rather amusing. - -"You tempt me to my death!" he laughed, taking the glass I poured -out for him. "Do you know that my men would kill me if they saw me -now? These country people have not the ideas of the _effendi_ and -myself. They follow blindly the Prophet, not realizing how many rooms -there are in the house of a wise man. They found out that I had been -affording opportunity for the forgiveness of God, and they took it -quite seriously. They threatened to kill me if I did not make a public -confession. And I had to do it, to please them. On the next Friday I -made a solemn confession of my sins in mosque, and swore never to smell -another drop." - -At this I didn't know just what to do. I looked at the _Mudir_, and the -_Mudir_ looked at the camel-driver. The latter, however, waved his hand -with a smile of goodfellowship. - -"There is no harm now," he said. "We break caravan to-morrow at -Nicomedia. Moreover, I do not drink saying it is right. I should -blaspheme God, who has commanded me not to drink. But I acknowledge -that I sin. Great be the name of God!" With which he tipped the glass -into his mouth. "My soul!" he exclaimed, "That is better than a -cucumber in August!" - -These people are democratic, you know, to a degree of which we haven't -an idea--for all our declaration of independence. Yet there are certain -invisible lines which are sure to trip a foreigner up and which made -me mighty uncertain what to do with the governor of a _mudirlik_ and -the leader of a caravan. But the latter proceeded to look out for that. -Such a jolly good fellow you never saw in your life, with his stories, -and the way he had with him, and the things he had been up to. It -turned out that he knew western Asia a good deal better than I know -western Europe. Tabriz, Tashkend, Samarkand, Cabul, to say nothing of -Mecca and Cairo and Tripoli--such names dropped from him as Liverpool -and Marseilles might from me. Where camel goes he had been, and for -him Asia Minor was no more than a sort of ironic tongue stuck out at -Europe by the huge continent behind. It gave me my first inkling of how -this empire is tied up. It seems to hang so loosely together, without -the rails and wires that put Sitka and St. Augustine in easier reach -of each other than Constantinople and Bagdad. I began to learn then -that wires and rails are not everything--that there are stronger nets -than those. Altogether it was a momentous occasion. To sit there in -that queer old house, in a wild hill village of the Marmora, and speak -familiarly with that camel-driver who carried the secrets of Asia in -his pocket--it brought me nearer than I had ever dreamed to that life -which was always so tantalizing me by my inability to get at it. - -When the man finally withdrew, and the _Mudir_ after him, I was in no -mood to go to bed. They had opened to me their ancient world, with all -its poetry and mystery, and I did not want to lose it again. I could -see it stretching dimly beyond the windows where the water-wheels went -moaning under the moon. I went out into it. The night was--you have no -idea what those nights could be. They had such a way of swallowing up -the squalidness of things, and bringing out all their melancholy magic. -The rose season was at its height, and the air was one perfume from the -hidden gardens. Then the nightingales were at that heart-breaking music -of theirs. And the moon! It wasn't one of those glaring round things, -like a coachman's button or a butcher's boy with the mumps, by which -young ladies are commonly put into spasms; but it was an old wasted -one, with such a light! - -It was all the more extraordinary because not a creature was -about--except a man who lay asleep on the ground, not far from the -door. Apparently they dropped off wherever they happened to be, down -there, and I used to envy them for it. I stood still for a while, in -the shadow of the house, taking it all in. Don't you know, it happens -once in a while that you have a mood, and that your surroundings come -up to it? It doesn't happen very often, either--at least, to workaday -people like us. So I stood there, looking and listening and breathing. -And when I saw the edge of the shadow of the house crumble up at one -place, without any visible cause, and creep out into the moonlight, -I--I only looked at it. Nothing had any visible cause in that strange -world of mine, and I watched the slowly lengthening finger of shadow -with the passivity of a man who has seen too many wonders to wonder any -more. But then I made out a darker darkness winding back toward the -house. And--I don't know--I thought of the man on the ground. I looked -at him. - -It was my camel-driver, dead as Darius, with the blood running out -of a hole in his back like water out of a spout. For the moment I -was still too far away from every day to be startled, or even very -much surprised. It was only a part of that mysterious world, with its -mysterious people and mysterious ways that I never could understand. -What was he doing there dead, who had been so full of life a little -while before? Was it one of his jokes? The night was the most -enchanting you could imagine, the air was heady with the breath of -rose-gardens, the nightingales were singing in the trees (down in the -valley I heard, low, low, the weary water-wheels), and here was the -prince of story-tellers with his tongue stopped forever, and the blood -of him making a snaky black trail across the moonlight.... - - * * * * * - -What happened next? My dear fellow, you remind me of these kids who -will never let you finish their story! Nothing happened next. That was -the beauty of it. I guess I got one pretty good case of the jim-jams -after a while, and when I got through wondering whether I was going -to be elected next, I began to wonder whether they wouldn't think I'd -done it. Of course, I had done it, as a matter of fact, and that didn't -tend to composure of mind. Neither did my speculations as to what the -_Mudir_ might or might not have noticed when he left me that evening. -But, if you will believe it, nobody ever lifted a finger. The next -morning the caravan was gone and apparently everything was the same as -before. If anything, they were more decent than before. That was the -worst of it. I don't believe I'd have minded so much if they'd stoned -me and ridden me out on a rail and set the Government after me and -raised the devil generally. I should at least have felt less at sea. As -it was--hello, there's Carmignani! Let's take him over to Tokatlian's. - - - - -THE UNREMEMBERED - -FRAGMENTS OF A LOST MEMORY - -BY FLORENCE WILKINSON - - - Where have they gone, the unremembered things, - The hours, the faces, - The trumpet-call, the wild boughs of white spring? - Would I might pluck you from forbidden spaces, - All ye, the vanished tenants of my places! - - Stay but one moment, speak that I may hear, - Swift passer-by! - The wind of your strange garments in my ear - Catches the heart like a belovèd cry - From lips, alas, forgotten utterly. - - An odour haunts, a colour in the mesh, - A step that mounts the stair; - Come to me, I would touch your living flesh-- - Look how they disappear, ah, where, ah, where? - Because I name them not, deaf to my prayer. - - If I could only call them as I used, - Each by his name! - That violin--what ancient voice that mused! - Yon is the hill, I see the beacon flame. - My feet have found the road where once I came. - Quick--but again the dark, darkness and shame. - - - - -THE BATTLE AGAINST THE SHERMAN LAW - -HOW CAPITAL AND LABOR COMBINE TO SAFEGUARD THE TRUST AND LEGALIZE THE -BOYCOTT - -BY BURTON J. HENDRICK - -ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS - - -Under the existing laws of the United States, it is a crime to -organize a combination of individuals or corporations into a business -aggregation in restraint of trade. It is likewise a crime for labor -men or labor unions in different States to combine for the prosecution -of certain aggressive enterprises popularly described as boycotts. Any -person convicted of engaging in either of these prohibited acts may be -fined not more than $5,000 for each offense, or imprisoned for one year -at hard labor, or both. - -According to reliable estimates, there are in the neighborhood of five -hundred large trusts or combinations that daily violate this law. -There are many thousands of smaller corporations and business firms -that indulge in secret practices for which their officers may at any -time be lodged in jail. As for the national prohibition of boycotts, -labor organizations openly exist for the express purpose of conducting -them. The constitution of the most powerful labor organization in this -country, the Federation of Labor, specifically provides for engaging in -this form of industrial warfare. - -The statute that outlaws these combinations of both capital and labor -is the famous Sherman Anti-trust Law. It is one of the briefest, most -pointed, and most comprehensive measures ever passed by Congress. It -contains only about seven hundred words and would fill less than a page -of this magazine. In its first three lines, without any modifications -or circumlocutions, it declares illegal "every contract, combination in -the form of trust or otherwise, or conspiracy, in restraint of trade or -commerce among the several States or with foreign nations." The next -few lines provide the punishment, cited above, for breaking the law. -The Sherman Act does not say that "some combinations" are illegal and -criminal, but that "every" one is. It does not provide that certain -offenders may be punished, but that "every" one "shall be." It leaves -absolutely no discretion to prosecuting officers or to the courts. -Within its comprehensive folds are gathered, on the one hand, the most -commanding captains of industry and the greatest railroad magnates; -and, on the other, the most insignificant puddlers in their furnaces -and stokers on their trains. - -The Sherman Act has thus established a community of interest between -labor and capital which has had important practical results. Both -capital and labor are openly evading the law. Both have many times been -haled into court, convicted of infringing this statute, and enjoined -from continuing in their illegal combinations. Both consequently find -it an irksome impediment to their present plans and ambitions. In their -active opposition to the law the two previously warring elements now -meet on common ground. - -The platform of the Republican party calls for amendments which, to -all practical purposes, will seriously weaken the law, so far as its -application to corporate combinations is concerned. The Democratic -platform demands such changes as will exempt labor unions from its -operation,--which is virtually the same thing as demanding the -legalization of the boycott. At the last session of Congress the -spectacle was presented of important labor unions and great corporation -lawyers working hand in hand to this common end. Though this agitation -failed for the time being, it may safely be asserted that the repeal -or modification of the Sherman Act will continue to be a fixed article -of the policy both of large aggregations of wealth and of large -aggregations of labor. This fact makes important a study of its history -and of its practical effects upon corporate and labor organizations. - - -_The Sherman Law Not Rushed Through Congress_ - -Hardly any important legislation has been so imperfectly understood -or more persistently misrepresented. Although the law was passed only -eighteen years ago, a large number of legends have already grown up -about it. According to popular belief, the Sherman Anti-trust Act is an -imperfect piece of legislation; a measure which was drawn up hastily, -without thorough study or knowledge of the economic and social problems -which it was intended to solve. The corporations declare that it was -never intended to meet industrial conditions as they exist now: labor -leaders have repeatedly asserted that the framers of the measure never -intended that it should affect organizations of labor. - -A study of the congressional debates which preceded the passage of the -Sherman Act dissipates these misconceptions. The law was not rushed -through Congress. It was seriously proposed as a carefully thought-out -attempt to check great and clearly comprehended evils. In essence those -evils did not differ from the ones which confront the American people -today. In 1890 the trust, or the industrial combination, had almost -reached its present state of development. Large aggregations of capital -had already secured a monopoly of many of the necessaries of life. The -Standard Oil Trust was then, as it is now, the most conspicuous of -these combinations, and had already attained an unpopularity almost -as great as it enjoys today; the Sugar Trust controlled practically -the whole output of refined sugar. The Steel Trust, it is true, did -not exist; but many combinations in steel products had already been -formed. Combinations on steel rails dictated prices; nails, barbed -fence wire, copper, lead, nickel, zinc, cordage, cottonseed oil,--all -these products had already been brought largely under trust control. -The Salt Trust and the Whiskey Trust had been organized. Combinations -of railroads, for the purpose of fixing charges for transportation, -had existed for twenty-five years. In 1875 Commodore Vanderbilt -called the first great meeting of railroad trunk lines at Saratoga; -and this conference adopted a "pooling" arrangement. The accumulated -railroad abuses of a generation, especially this practice of "pooling" -earnings, had led to the passage of the Interstate Commerce Act in -1887--three years before the enactment of the Sherman Law. - -Other combinations, which disdained the name of trusts, but which had -already developed certain points in common with them, also flourished. -The labor union, for example, was in full flower. The Knights of -Labor, under Powderly, had passed through many triumphant years; the -Federation of Labor was firmly entrenched, and Samuel Gompers was its -President then as he is today. The unions existed then, as they do -now, to secure higher wages and greater advantages of employment for -their members; and one of their weapons then, as it is at present, was -the boycott. Organizations of farmers, which existed for a similar -purpose--the Farmers' Alliance, the National League--had also reached a -high state of development. - - -_Statesmen who Framed the Sherman Law_ - -Nor were the framers of this law inexperienced legislators who hastily -scrambled together a measure to meet certain political exigencies. The -men chiefly responsible for the anti-trust law were John Sherman of -Ohio, George F. Edmunds of Vermont, George F. Hoar of Massachusetts, -George Gray of Delaware, and James Z. George of Mississippi. Senator -Spooner recently declared that no greater body of lawyers ever sat in -Congress; no one would venture to contend that there is any similar -group of five men in Washington today. John Sherman had served almost -continuously in Congress since 1854; he had represented Ohio in -the Senate throughout the Civil War and the reconstruction period, -displaying especial talent in dealing with questions of national -finance; and, as Secretary of the Treasury in President Hayes' cabinet, -had carried through with masterly success the resumption of specie -payments. George F. Edmunds was generally regarded as the greatest -lawyer then in the Senate. Starting his career in that body in 1866, -when Congress had to handle the intricate constitutional problems -involved in the readmission of the Southern States, he immediately -became one of an influential group of which the other members were -Sumner, Fessenden, Trumbull, and Wade, and took an important part in -framing the legislation of the reconstruction period. George F. Hoar -had, by 1890, represented Massachusetts in the Senate for thirteen -years; his great learning, his comprehensive knowledge of public -questions, his independence, his genuine devotion to the best public -interests had made him one of the most commanding figures in that body. -George Gray of Delaware, at present a judge of the United States -Circuit Court, and for many years one of the most conservative forces -in the Democratic party--the same George Gray upon whom many of Mr. -Bryan's opponents hoped to unite a few months ago as the Democratic -presidential nominee--was also recognized as one of the Senate's -greatest authorities on the Constitution. Senator George had served for -many years as chief justice of the Supreme Court of Mississippi, and -was the author and compiler of many works on law which are still widely -used. - -Over the question of federal control of large combinations these five -men and their colleagues debated for nearly two years. Senator Sherman -introduced his first anti-trust act August 14, 1888; the present -statute finally became a law on July 21, 1890. During this period six -separate trust bills, all modifications of that originally introduced -by Mr. Sherman, were laid before the Senate. They were considered by -two committees--the Finance and the Judiciary--and debated at great -length in the committee of the whole. The discussions occupy one -hundred and fifty pages of the Congressional Record. - -A striking illustration of the general ignorance of the circumstances -under which the Sherman Act was passed is furnished by the present -Republican platform. This declares that "the Republican party passed -the Sherman Anti-Trust Act over Democratic opposition." The records -of Congress, however, show no indications of any opposition at all, -Democratic or other. Of the five men most conspicuous in framing the -law, three were Republicans and two were Democrats. In the Senate only -one senator voted against the passage; in the House two hundred and -forty-two votes were cast in favor of the act, and not a single one was -cast against it. The whole debate was notable for its seriousness and -its dignity; one or two Democrats did suggest that a revision of the -tariff might help to curb the trusts; but that was the only partisan -note struck. Congress keenly appreciated the issues raised by the trust -problem and the necessity of taking action that would be beneficial and -permanent. Everybody realized, also, the inherent difficulties of the -situation. The debates in the Senate on this issue, far from indicating -a scrappy investigation, furnish material for a liberal education in -the constitutional questions involved in dealing with monopolies. -Senator Hoar, in preparation for the work, studied the history of -legislation concerning monopolies from the time of Zeno. One of the -sections in the bill--that providing that a successful litigant against -a trust can recover three times the damages suffered from it--Mr. Hoar -incorporated from a statute on monopolies passed in the reign of James -I. - - [Illustration: SAMUEL GOMPERS, FOR TWENTY-FIVE YEARS PRESIDENT OF THE - FEDERATION OF LABOR. MR. GOMPERS DEMANDS AN AMENDMENT OF THE SHERMAN - ANTI-TRUST ACT THAT WOULD MAKE LEGAL THE INTERSTATE BOYCOTT] - - -_Sherman Act Intended to Apply to Labor Unions_ - -Of all the legends which have grown up about this law, perhaps the -most absurd is that it was never intended to apply to workingmen. "As -a matter of fact," said Samuel Gompers before the Judiciary Committee -of the House last winter, "every man who now lives and is familiar -with the legislation of the day knows that the Sherman Anti-trust Law -was never intended to include organizations of labor," Chief Justice -Fuller, in a recent decision of the United States Supreme Court, flatly -contradicts Mr. Gompers' statement. "The records of Congress show," -says Justice Fuller, "that several efforts were made to exempt, by -legislation, organizations of farmers and laborers from the operation -of the act and that all these efforts failed," In fact, the question -of the relation of labor unions and the law occupied a conspicuous -place in the debates; it was almost as constantly in the minds of the -Senators as the question of capitalistic combinations themselves. -To meet this situation, Senator Sherman introduced an amendment -specifically excepting labor unions and agricultural associations from -the operation of his statute. Mr. Gompers, according to his remarks -before the Judiciary Committee last winter, was partly responsible for -the introduction of this amendment. Senator Edmunds opposed it on the -ground that it granted rights to labor which it withheld from capital, -and he insisted that both sides should be treated upon an exact -equality. In the following words he disposed for all time of Senator -Sherman's plea for preferential treatment of laboring men: - - The fact is that this matter of capital, as it is called, of - business, and of labor, is an equation, and you cannot disturb one - side of the equation without disturbing the other. If it costs - for labor 50 per cent. more to produce a ton of iron, that 50 per - cent. more goes into what that iron must sell for, or some part of - it. I take it everybody will agree to that. - - Very well. Now, if you say to one side of that equation, "You may - make the value or the price of this iron by your combination for - wages in the whole Republic or on the continent, but the man for - whom you have made the iron shall not arrange with his neighbors - as to the price they will sell it for, so as not to destroy each - other," the whole business will certainly break, because the - connection between the plant, as I will call it for short, and - the labor that works that plant, is one that no legislation and - no force in the world--and there is only one outside of the world - that can do it--can possibly separate. They cannot be divorced. - Neither speeches nor laws nor judgments of courts nor anything - else can change it, and therefore I say that to provide on one - side of that equation that there may be combination and on the - other side that there shall not, is contrary to the very inherent - principle upon which such business must depend. If we are to have - equality, as we ought to have, if the combination on the one side - is to be prohibited, the combination on the other side must be - prohibited, or there will be certain destruction in the end.... - - On the one side you say that it is a crime and on the other side - you say it is a valuable and proper under-taking. That will - not do, Mr. President. You can not get on in that way. It is - impossible to separate them; and the principle of it therefore is - that if one side, no matter which it is, is authorized to combine, - the other side must be authorized to combine, or the thing will - break and there will be universal bankruptcy. That is what it will - come to. - - [Illustration: SENATOR GEORGE F. EDMUNDS, GENERALLY REGARDED AS ONE OF - THE GREATEST CONSTITUTIONAL LAWYERS OF HIS TIME. THE SHERMAN ACT, AS - IT STANDS AT PRESENT, IS VERY LARGELY HIS WORK] - -Senator Edmunds' logic absolutely killed any attempt to place capital -and labor upon different footings, Instead of adopting this proposed -amendment, the Senate referred the whole question of trust legislation -to the Judiciary Committee, of which Senator Edmunds was chairman. Mr. -Edmunds and his colleagues threw into the waste basket all the pending -trust bills and their amendments and struck out on new lines. As a -consequence, Senator Edmunds became the chief author of the Sherman -Anti-Trust Law. His most active associates, were Senator Hoar and -Senator George. The one man who had practically nothing to do with the -statute as it stands to-day was Senator Sherman himself. He played -an important part in the preliminary discussion and in framing the -measures which served as a basis for this discussion; but the bill as -it was finally adopted by Congress bore little resemblance to his. -The amendment upon which he laid especial stress--that of exempting -laboring and agricultural organizations from the operation of the -Anti-trust Law--was absolutely ignored. - -As finally adopted, the act did not prohibit labor unions per se or -combinations of labor unions formed to accomplish lawful ends; it -did, however, strike at certain labor union practices. That this was -the clear intention of the Senate is evident from a statement made by -Senator Edmunds in a newspaper interview as far back as 1892. "The -Sherman Law," said Mr. Edmunds, "is intended to cover and I think will -cover every form of combination that seeks in any way to interfere with -or restrain free competition, whether it be capital in the form of -trusts, combinations, railroad pools, or agreements, or labor through -the form of boycotting organizations that say a man shall not earn his -bread unless he joins this or that society. Both are wrong; both are -crimes and indictable under the Anti-trust Law." - - -_Unsuccessful Efforts to Destroy the Law_ - -For eighteen years the anti-trust statute has represented American -policy and American law in federal regulation of combinations in -restraint of trade. In that period the act has been repeatedly -assailed from many legal standpoints. It has been passed upon more -than two hundred and fifty times by the federal courts, and has been -considered fifty-five times by the United States Supreme Court. The -greatest constitutional lawyers of this generation--such men as -Edward J. Phelps, James C. Carter, John F. Dillon, and Francis Lynde -Stetson--have attempted to destroy it and have not succeeded. The -greatest railroads and corporations, on the one hand, and the largest -and most influential labor unions, on the other, have both failed in -their attempts to secure exemption from its operation. - - [Illustration: JUDGE GEORGE GRAY OF DELAWARE, WHO, AS UNITED STATES - SENATOR, IN 1890, TOOK AN IMPORTANT PART IN FRAMING THE SHERMAN LAW] - -The history of the Sherman Act has absolutely justified the wisdom -and integrity of the Supreme Court. Scores of times the lower courts -have decided against the government; and the most important decisions -have been those in which the Supreme Court has reversed the inferior -tribunals. The record of federal prosecutions under this law affords an -interesting insight into the attitude of the several administrations -toward trust regulation. President Harrison, under whose administration -the law was passed, accomplished little. His attorney-general brought -seven actions--four bills in equity and three criminal indictments. -Under the equity proceedings, he obtained three injunctions; the -criminal proceedings all ended in failure. One of the cases instituted -by President Harrison, however,--that against the Trans-Missouri -Freight Association,--was afterward taken to the Supreme Court by -President Cleveland's attorney-general, and resulted in securing one of -the most important decisions in the history of the law. - -President Cleveland showed considerably more activity than his -predecessor. Though only eight proceedings stand to his credit, -several of them were of the greatest importance. He used the Sherman -Law in fighting the Debs cases growing out of the Pullman strike; and -in the well-known Addyston Pipe & Steel Company case he dissolved a -combination, formed by several manufacturers of gas and sewer pipe, to -monopolize the trade of most large American municipalities. President -McKinley apparently had little interest in the Sherman Law; throughout -his four and a half years only three cases were prosecuted, none of -which were of much consequence. With the administration of President -Roosevelt, however, the situation changed. Against the seven cases -instituted by Harrison, the eight by Cleveland, the three by McKinley, -stand thirty-seven started by Roosevelt. That is, he has instituted -twice as many cases as all his predecessors combined, and many of -the Roosevelt prosecutions have proved successful. Nineteen of these -thirty-seven cases have already been decided; the government has won -seventeen and lost only two. - -As a result of these many proceedings and interpretations, the Sherman -Anti-trust Law is now fairly well understood. There has recently been -much complaint that the law is not sufficiently "specific"; that -business men and labor leaders are groping very much in the dark; -that it is impossible to say what this statute prohibits and what it -permits. From the judicial literature which has accumulated in the -last eighteen years, however, a fairly clear idea of its bearings -upon large enterprises, both of labor and capital, can be obtained. -Senator Hoar declared, when the bill came up for final passage, that -it enunciated no new principle of law. It made illegal "restraints of -trade" and "monopolies," but these had been for centuries unlawful in -all Anglo-Saxon countries. As far back as the reign of Henry VI. in -England, in 1436, a law was passed declaring that "all agreements in -restraint of trade are illegal and voide." This principle has ever -since been part of the law of England, and is at present part of the -common law of many States in the Union. - - [Illustration: FRANCIS LYNDE STETSON, CHIEF COUNSEL FOR THE UNITED - STATES STEEL CORPORATION AND OTHER MORGAN ORGANIZATIONS. MR. STETSON - WAS ONE OF THE DRAFTERS OF LAST WINTER'S TRUST BILL. IF IT HAD BECOME - A LAW, THIS MEASURE WOULD HAVE MADE THE UNITED STATES STEEL COMPANY - PRACTICALLY IMMUNE FROM FEDERAL PROSECUTION] - -In the United States itself, however,--that is, in the federal -courts--there is no common law; everything must be fixed and regulated -by statute. What the Sherman Act did was to make this common law on the -subjects of restraints and monopolies the statute law of the United -States. Under the common law of practically every State, monopolies -and restraining combinations were illegal; Congress made these illegal -when they involved inter-State trade. Under the common law boycotts -were illegal also; Congress made illegal the inter-State boycott. -Congressional action on this subject was demanded, because the larger -number of these unlawful combinations could be reached only by federal -action, inasmuch as they usually involved more than one State. - -Under the rulings of the Supreme Court, combinations and conspiracies -which restrain trade and develop monopolies are those which, broadly -speaking, deprive the public of the benefits of free competition. This -act recognizes the competitive system as the one industrial ideal, -and outlaws anything that interferes with a free, unobstructed flow of -trade. A trust that gets control of the larger part of a particular -product and manipulates the output so as to prevent trade from flowing -in its natural course--that is an illegal restraint. Labor unions that -combine to divert artificially this same course of trade--as they -unquestionably do when they persuade the public not to have business -relations with particular persons or corporations against which -they have declared a boycott--also engage in an illegal restraint. -The Sherman Law aims only to protect the public against these -unnatural influences; to restore business to normal conditions. With -corporations, the final test as to whether they restrain trade or not -is whether their effect is to increase prices. If they do not increase -prices, then they do not restrain trade and consequently do not violate -the Sherman Act. The Supreme Court has insisted upon one important -modification of this principle. The effect upon prices must be -immediate and not remote. An arbitrary agreement that definitely fixes -the prices of a product is clearly illegal; an agreement which, in the -last analysis, might tend to influence prices, would not necessarily be -so. - - [Illustration: SETH LOW, EX-MAYOR OF NEW YORK, WHO, AS PRESIDENT OF - THE NATIONAL CIVIC FEDERATION, ADVOCATES THE AMENDMENT OF THE SHERMAN - LAW] - - -_Railroads Stopped from Making Rate Agreements_ - -In the first ten years after the passing of the Sherman Act, the -government attacked most successfully, not the great solidified -aggregations of capital popularly known as trusts, but the more or -less loosely organized federations of corporations, formed chiefly for -the purpose of regulating and establishing prices. Trade agreements, -not monopolistic corporations, became its chief quarry. In proscribing -these agreements as illegal, the Sherman Act was found to be extremely -effective. The very first case under this law was directed against a -combination of coal-mining companies in Kentucky and Tennessee, which -existed for the express purpose of regulating output and fixing prices. -The courts promptly decided that this agreement violated the Sherman -Act. In 1892 eighteen railroads, nearly all operating west of the -Missouri River, organized what they called the Trans-Missouri Freight -Association. This association included many of the great Western roads, -companies of the magnitude of the Santa Fé, the Missouri Pacific, and -the Rock Island. Its object, as clearly stated in the articles of -association, was "mutual protection by establishing and maintaining -reasonable rates, rules, and regulations, in all freight traffic, both -through and local." In other words, it proposed to fix arbitrarily -the price of transportation throughout the enormous territory covered -by the eighteen railroads in question. The old "pooling" agreements, -which had existed for many years, had been prohibited by the Interstate -Commerce Law passed in 1887; and this Traffic Association was an -attempt to accomplish the same end--that is, stop competition among the -railroads and maintain rates--in a different way. The Supreme Court, -by a vote of five to four, decided that this agreement was prohibited -by the Sherman Anti-trust Act, because, as an attempt to fix prices, -it restrained trade. The famous Trans-Missouri decision, which settled -this case, made the Sherman Law an insurmountable bulwark against all -railroad combinations of this kind. Until this decision was finally -given in 1897, this act had not been seriously regarded; after the -Supreme Court had spoken, however, capitalists suddenly awoke to its -significance. The decision settled many important points, which will be -referred to subsequently in this article, and it changed as well the -whole policy of railroad management. - -The Sherman Act has stopped, not only railroad combinations, but -similar agreements existing among manufacturers for the regulation -of prices. The case of the Addyston Pipe & Steel Company is the most -celebrated of this kind. In 1894 a large number of manufacturers -of sewer and gas pipe, the Addyston Company being one, formed a -combination to monopolize business and fix prices in thirty-six States -and Territories. All companies which were parties to the agreement -reserved the right to compete with each other outside of these -thirty-six States as fiercely as before. They significantly called the -section in which there was to be no competition "pay territory"; and -the States outside of this section were known as "free territory." -These manufacturers dealt chiefly with municipalities, which usually -let contracts for sewer and gas pipe by public bidding. Whenever such -a contract was offered, the Addyston combination would meet secretly, -decide upon the price they would charge, and then arrange a program -of fictitious bids. They then divided the profits among themselves. -In this way they forced practically all purchasers in the sections in -which they traded to pay exorbitant prices. Indeed, the subsequent -history of this combination beautifully illustrates the practical -effect upon the public of agreements of this kind. The Addyston and -its associate members sold certain pipe in "pay territory," where -the combination was enforced, at twenty-four dollars a ton; in "free -territory," where they competed with each other, they frequently sold -identically the same product at fourteen dollars. The Supreme Court -decided that this agreement violated the Sherman Act--that it was a -combination or a conspiracy in restraint of trade. William H. Taft, -then United States Circuit Judge, wrote an opinion discussing the -merits of this dispute which has since become a legal classic. Mr. Taft -spent six months in studying the questions involved. - -Nearly all such cases, however, involved merely what may be called -trade agreements. In each case there were actual attempts to fix -prices by compact, and these agreements were the only things in -common among the different corporations that became parties to them. -The several corporations preserved their independent existence; they -were not trusts in the sense in which the Standard Oil Company, the -American Sugar Refining Company, the United States Steel Company, are -trusts--that is, single corporations, producing and distributing the -greater part of some particular product. Until President Roosevelt's -administration, these trusts had, for the larger part, escaped -prosecution under the Sherman Law, the few attempts that had been made -to assail them; having ingloriously failed. - - [Illustration: JOHN SHERMAN, A STATESMAN WHO SERVED THE GOVERNMENT - FOR MORE THAN FORTY YEARS, AS SENATOR, SECRETARY OF THE TREASURY, AND - SECRETARY OF STATE. BETWEEN 1888 AND 1890 HE INTRODUCED SIX SEPARATE - BILLS FOR THE REGULATION OF TRUSTS, AND OUT OF THESE GREW THE MEASURE - WHICH NOW BEARS HIS NAME] - -Meanwhile, in the first twelve years after the passage of the -Anti-trust Act, and in the teeth of it, some of the largest -monopolistic corporations were formed. Many persons have maintained -that the Sherman Law, far from forestalling these corporations, has -actually precipitated them. Their point is that, since this act -clearly outlawed trade agreements among independent corporations, these -corporations, in order to get control of the situation, have been -compelled to amalgamate themselves under one ownership. The Sherman -Act made illegal, for example, rate agreements among railroads; as a -consequence, in order to control railroad policy, the owners of the -great trunk lines have purchased large blocks of stock in each other's -property--on what is popularly known as the "community of interest" -idea. - -President Roosevelt, however, has succeeded in applying the Sherman -Act to the trusts, as that word is popularly understood. The famous -Northern Securities case is his greatest victory along that line. In -this instance, Mr. J. J. Hill and J. Pierpont Morgan formed a new -corporation, the Northern Securities Company, which acquired the actual -stock ownership of nine-tenths of the stock of the Northern Pacific -Railroad and three-fourths of that of the Great Northern. The Northern -Securities Company thus obtained a virtual monopoly of railroad -transportation from the Great Lakes to the Pacific Ocean in the -northern section of the United States. The Roosevelt administration, -relying solely upon the Sherman Act, destroyed this corporation. The -administration has followed up this victory by instituting suits -against the Standard Oil Company, the American Tobacco Company, and -other powerful monopolies. - - [Illustration: GEORGE FRISBIE HOAR, UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM 1877 TO - 1904, AND ONE OF THE AUTHORS OF THE SHERMAN ANTI-TRUST ACT] - - -_Labor Unions, as Such, Not Prohibited_ - -Meanwhile, the same law has proved an effective weapon in opposing -that other form of combination and restraint against which it was -framed,--the labor trust. Under it a new code of federal laws affecting -labor unions has developed; and to a large extent it has strengthened -the cause of legitimate labor organization. No intelligent person now -disputes the right of workingmen to organize. A few labor leaders have -publicly declared their apprehension that the Sherman Law prohibits -peaceable labor organizations; no man, however, has thus far had the -hardihood to raise this question legally; and, in the present state -of public opinion as to the rights of labor, no one is likely to. -The United States Courts, in decisions defining the scope of the -Sherman Act, have specifically stated that it does not prohibit the -ordinary peaceful activities of labor unions. Justice White, in a -decision of the Supreme Court, has declared that an agreement among -"locomotive engineers, firemen, or trainmen engaged in the service -of an inter-State railroad not to work for less than a certain named -compensation" would not be illegal. William H. Taft, in one of the most -important decisions affecting the rights of workmen under the Sherman -Act, has defined the situation in words which are now widely accepted -as a clear statement of what is not only good law but sound public -policy: - - The employees of the receiver had the right to organize into or - join a labor union which would take action as to the terms of - their employment. It is a benefit to them and to the public - that laborers should unite for their common interest and for - lawful purposes. They have labor to sell. If they stand together, - they are often able, all of them, to obtain better prices for - their labor than dealing singly with rich employers, because - the necessities of the single employee may compel him to accept - any price that is offered. The accumulation of a fund for those - who feel that the wages offered are below the legitimate market - value of such labor is desirable. They have the right to appoint - officers, who shall advise them as to the course to be taken in - relations with their employers. They may unite with other unions. - The officers they appoint, or any other person they choose to - listen to, may advise them as to the proper course to be taken in - regard to their common employment; or if they choose to appoint - any one, he may order them on pain of expulsion from the union - peaceably to leave the employ of their employer because any of the - terms of the employment are unsatisfactory. - -It is clearly indicated, therefore, what labor leaders, under the -Sherman Act, can do. They have the right to organize, to combine--that -is, to form unions; they have the right to refuse to work for wages or -terms of employment unsatisfactory to themselves--that is, to strike. -Under the Sherman Act, indeed, mere organizations of laboring men are -regarded as no more outlawed than ordinary social clubs or college -fraternities. - - -_How the Chicago Strike of 1894 Restrained Trade_ - -On the other hand, labor leaders know what, under the Sherman Act, -they can not do. They cannot enter into combinations that restrain -trade. This vital point has been settled in several important -proceedings--those involving the Chicago disturbances in 1894, and, -more recently the decision just handed down in the matter of the -Danbury Hatters. These cases so clearly show the bearing of the Sherman -Act upon illegal labor practices, that they may profitably be reviewed -here. - - [Illustration: _Copyrighted by C. R. Buck_ - - CONGRESSMAN CHARLES E. LITTLEFIELD OF MAINE, WHOSE KEEN ANALYSIS OF - LAST WINTER'S CIVIC FEDERATION TRUST BILL WAS LARGELY RESPONSIBLE FOR - ITS DEFEAT] - -In 1894 the employees of the Pullman Palace Car Company of Chicago -struck for higher wages. These employees were not railway men; they -were workmen engaged in the manufacture of railway cars. In spite -of this, about four thousand had been admitted to membership in the -American Railway Union, an organization of railroad operatives, -which, under the vigorous management of Eugene V. Debs, had acquired -a membership of 250,000, and a correspondingly great power in the -field of railroad labor. In order to help the Pullman workmen in their -struggle with the Pullman Company, the American Railway Union declared -what was in effect a boycott upon all railroads using Pullman cars. -Nearly all the larger American railroads had entered into contracts -with the Pullman Company, by which parlor and sleeping cars were to be -used on their trains. Debs now demanded that these railroads should -break their contracts, and thereby, of course, become responsible for -heavy damages to the Pullman Company. In other words, he demanded that -all American railroads cease patronizing the Pullman Company because of -its "unfair" attitude toward union labor; that is, he started a boycott -against the Pullman Company. When the railroad companies refused to -meet his demand, he ordered out all American Railway Union men employed -on these lines. He even declared war upon several of the Vanderbilt -roads, which had no Pullman sleepers, operating instead the Wagner -cars. In effect, in order that several thousand workmen in Chicago -might profitably settle their private grievances with their employers, -Debs proposed, practically to end railroad communication in the larger -part of the United States. - -"The gigantic character of the conspiracy," said William H. Taft in -a well-known decision resulting from these proceedings, "staggers -the imagination. The railroads have become as necessary to the life -and health and comfort of the people of this country as are the -arteries to the human body." The larger part of our food supply, -for example, is furnished by means of the railway; the interruption -of railroad transportation for any considerable period would, among -other calamities, bring famine upon large sections of the country. In -Chicago, in Cincinnati, and in other large cities, Debs despatched his -lieutenants with orders to tie up all railroads using Pullman cars. -He gave particular instructions to interfere with freight trains, -since freight was the main source of railroad revenue. In many places -riots followed; in Chicago, strikers began wrecking trains, blowing up -bridges, burning freight yards, tearing up tracks--indeed, nearly all -the twenty-three railroads centering in that city ceased operations. -The fundamental principles of the constitution, guaranteeing the -safety of life and property, had apparently given way to lawlessness -and anarchy. In the opinion of Grover Cleveland, then President of -the United States, these proceedings constituted a "conspiracy in -restraint of trade" among the States, and as such were prohibited by -the Sherman Act. That the purpose and effect of Debs' proceedings was -to restrain trade is sufficiently clear; indeed, no more complete -restraint than the cessation of railroad communication could be -imagined. Trade in this case was not only restrained; it was entirely -stopped. That the means by which this was to be accomplished had all -the essential elements of the inter-State boycott has also been shown. -In several cities, acting under the President's instructions, United -States district attorneys obtained injunctions on the ground that the -strike leaders were violating the Sherman Act, and also interfering -with the carriage of United States mails. In Chicago Eugene V. Debs -was enjoined, and, when he disobeyed the injunction, was arrested -and afterward sentenced to six months' imprisonment. In Cincinnati -his associate, Frank W. Phelan, was likewise enjoined and likewise -imprisoned for contempt. It was his act as judge in sending Phelan to -prison for violating the Sherman Law that first made William H. Taft -a national figure. The circuit courts[J] decided, in several cases, -that the combination formed by Debs against nearly all the trunk lines -was a boycott, "a conspiracy in restraint of trade," and punished the -leaders, under the Sherman Act. William H. Taft declared that "the -combination is in the teeth of the act of July 2, 1890." - - -_The Danbury Hatters Attempt to "Restrain Trade"_ - -This boycott involved violence as an incident; the Supreme Court, -however, has recently taken still more advanced ground, and decided -that a peaceable boycott also violates the Sherman Act. In the last -fifteen years a terrific warfare has raged between the American -Federation of Labor and nearly all American manufacturers of hats. -The American Federation has a membership variously estimated at from -1,500,000 to 2,000,000, including workmen in practically every State -and Territory. It is, as its name implies, a central association -organized for the purpose of bringing into one effective machine all -the local labor organizations scattered throughout the country. It -is an association of associations, and, as indicating its national -scope, has its headquarters in Washington. It keeps constantly in touch -with its membership through its monthly publication, the American -Federationist, as well as through the many journals of the unions -with which it is affiliated. It regularly employs nearly one thousand -agents who continually push the interests of its members in the larger -part of the United States and Canada. Mr. Samuel Gompers constantly -uses this organization for the prosecution of inter-State boycotts. -In his petition to intervene in the Danbury Hatters case, Mr. Gompers -stated, over his own signature, that "the constitution of said American -Federation of Labor makes special provision for the prosecution of -boycotts, so-called, when instituted by a constituent or affiliated -organization." In a public speech on May 1, 1908, Mr. Gompers declared -that the Supreme Court might "as well dissolve and destroy the -organization of labor as to enforce these decisions"--that is, the -decisions against boycotts. Obviously, the Federation of Labor has an -advantageous organization for work of this kind. A local union, with -membership extending not beyond the limits of a town or State, could -make little headway against a manufacturer against whose goods it had -declared a boycott, inasmuch as his trade usually extends over a large -area. The American Federation of Labor, however, by embracing the local -unions' cause can make the boycott effective in practically every part -of the country. In the last twelve years, Mr. Gompers' organization has -declared four hundred and eight boycotts. - -In particular, it has prosecuted with considerable success boycotts -against the manufacturers of fur hats. About ten years ago, Mr. -Gompers, working with the United Hatters of North America, inaugurated -an elaborate program to compel all such manufacturers to unionize their -shops. By using their well-known methods, they have brought to terms -seventy out of the eighty-two manufacturers in this country. The firm -of D. L. Loewe & Co. of Danbury, Connecticut, however, had persistently -refused to comply with these demands. Mr. Loewe was not a large -manufacturer; he had, however, built up a prosperous business, and, -though he had never shown any hostility to union labor, had insisted on -maintaining an open shop. In 1901 the United Hatters' Union practically -ordered him to discharge his non-union men and unionize his factory. -Mr. Loewe again refused to do this, and a strike immediately followed. -Mr. Loewe, however, promptly engaged new non-union men, and soon his -factory was running as busily and as profitably as before. - -Mr. Gompers then brought the whole machinery of his organization to -bear upon this recalcitrant hatter. On July 25, 1902, the Federation of -Labor and the United Hatters declared a boycott against his products. -They denounced this concern in their several publications as "unfair," -and notified nearly all the wholesale and retail hat dealers throughout -the United States that they must not handle the Loewe goods, under -pain of being boycotted themselves. It is said that their agents kept -espionage, in Danbury, over all freight consignments from the Loewe -factory, and thus obtained a fairly complete list of their customers; -committees of labor men in many cities waited upon these customers, -and, in several instances, persuaded them to drop the Loewe hats. Some -firms who refused to obey this dictation were themselves boycotted; -and, in San Francisco, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Richmond, the -boycott was pursued with particular virulence. The Federation went so -far as to grant a special dispensation to its members to purchase hats -made by other non-union labor, rather than patronize the Loewe brand. -Mr. Loewe, though he suffered enormous loss as a result of these -proceedings, pluckily kept up the fight. Under the Sherman Law, an -aggrieved citizen is authorized to bring private suit against persons -engaged in a conspiracy to restrain his trade, and, if he successfully -maintains his case, may recover three-fold damages. Mr. Loewe quietly -went to work and had made an inventory of all property-holders actively -engaged in boycotting his goods. He then brought suits for $340,000 -damages against a large number of labor men, filing in the District -Court 240 separate attachments. The Supreme Court of the United States -made short work of this case. Chief Justice Fuller, who wrote the -decision, declared that "the combination described in the declaration -is a combination 'in restraint of trade or commerce among the several -States' in the sense in which these words are used in the act, and the -action can be maintained accordingly." An interesting feature of the -case is that the decision of the Supreme Court was unanimous. In nearly -all the other proceedings involving the Sherman Law--the Trans-Missouri -case, the Northern Securities--the government has won by a bare -majority; every member of the Supreme bench, however, at once concluded -that Mr. Gompers' activities against the firm of D. L. Loewe & Co. -restrained inter-State trade, and thus violated the Sherman Law. - -Thus, in eighteen years, the Sherman Act has proved an effective weapon -against the two forms of trust and conspiracy with which the public -is most familiar--combinations of capitalists to restrain inter-State -trade and arbitrarily fix prices, and combinations of labor unions -organized for the prosecution of inter-State boycotts. It strikes -impartially the Northern Securities Company and the American Federation -of Labor; it does not discriminate between the activities of Mr. J. -Pierpont Morgan and of Mr. Samuel Gompers. At the last session of -Congress, the two forces which it opposes bent all their energies to -destroy this law; in all probability they will renew and redouble their -efforts this winter. - - -_National Civic Federation Attempts to Amend the Law_ - -For many years the National Civic Federation has been collecting data -bearing upon the trust and labor problem. In 1899 it held a trust -conference; and again, in October, 1907, it called a large meeting -at Chicago for the consideration of the trust situation. Delegates -appointed by the governors of forty-two States and representatives of -more than ninety commercial, agricultural, and labor organizations -contributed to these discussions. Referring to these Chicago -proceedings, Mr. Theodore Marburg, one of the participants, said -before the Judiciary Committee in Washington last winter: "Mr. Nicholas -Murray Butler sounded the note of attack upon the Sherman Anti-trust -Law.... I take it that the gentlemen will agree with me that it was -a dominant note of that conference." As a result, a bill radically -amending the Sherman Anti-trust Act was introduced in Congress at the -last session. Its most active sponsors in Washington were Seth Low, -president of the National Civic Federation, Professor Jeremiah W. Jenks -of Cornell, and Samuel Gompers, president of the Federation of Labor. -Well-known men who had participated in the conference that preceded -the framing of the bill were E. H. Gary, chairman of the Board of the -United States Steel Corporation, Henry L. Higginson, Isaac N. Seligman, -and James Speyer and August Belmont, bankers. Francis Lynde Stetson, -chief counsel for the United States Steel Corporation and other Morgan -corporations, and Victor Morawetz, counsel for the Santa Fé Railroad, -wrote the drafts. This latter fact was publicly stated by Mr. Low and -Mr. Jenks in the course of the hearings before the Judiciary Committee. -The authorship of the bill was early brought out in the following -colloquy between Congressman Charles E. Littlefield and Mr. Low: - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: Right there, Mr. Low, if there is no objection, - who are the people that actually participated in the preparation - of the bill? Who are the men who actually drew it? - - MR. LOW: We conferred with Judge Gary, of the United States Steel - Corporation. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: E. H. Gary, president of their board of directors? - - MR. LOW: E. H. Gary. The lawyers actually engaged in the drafting - of the bill were Mr. Stetson---- - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: That is, Francis Lynde Stetson? - - MR. LOW: Francis Lynde Stetson; and Mr. Morawetz. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: Victor Morawetz? - - MR. LOW: Victor Morawetz. - -At another time, Mr. Low described Mr. Stetson and Mr. Morawetz as -"the drafters" of the bill. Herbert Knox Smith, commissioner of -corporations, also had a hand in framing the measure. President -Roosevelt openly indorsed it and sent in an emergency message urging, -among other things, its passage. Extensive hearings, extending through -several months, were held before the Judiciary Committee. Many -representatives of capital and labor appeared in favor of the measure. -Although Congressman Littlefield, who presided over these hearings, -many times expressed his wish to examine Mr. Stetson and Mr. Morawetz, -these gentlemen never appeared. Although Mr. Low promised that they -would submit a brief, explaining several disputed legal points, they -never did so. The burden of discussing the many intricate legal points -that constantly arose rested entirely upon the shoulders of Mr. Low and -Professor Jenks, neither of whom had had any legal training. Through -the efforts of Congressman Littlefield, James A. Emery, counsel for -the National Association for Industrial Defense, and Daniel Davenport, -counsel for the Anti-Boycott Association, the proposed law was -defeated, but the proceedings are of great interest and importance -as illustrating the changes desired by both labor and capital in the -present anti-trust law. - - -_Gompers Asks that the Boycott be Legalized_ - -Mr. Gompers' demands were entirely simple and direct. He wished labor -unions entirely exempted from the operations of the Sherman Act. That -law, if properly respected and enforced, would practically put an end -to Mr. Gompers' occupation. Referring lately in a public speech to -the effect of a recent court decision against inter-State boycotts, -Mr. Gompers quoted, as applicable to his own organization, Shylock's -speech in "The Merchant of Venice," "You might as well take from -me my life as take from me the means whereby I live." Mr. Gompers' -chief interest in the Civic Federation bill, therefore, was a clause -which specifically declared that the Anti-trust Act should not be so -interpreted "as to interfere with or restrict any right of employees -to strike for any cause or to combine or to contract with each -other or with employers for the purpose of peaceably obtaining from -employers satisfactory terms of their labor or satisfactory conditions -of employment." Mr. Low and Mr. Jenks denied that this language -legalized the boycott; Congressman Littlefield, however, and many other -opponents of the measure, emphatically asserted that it did. Such -sweeping concessions as "_to strike for any cause_" and "_to combine -or to contract with each other or with employers for the purpose -of peaceably obtaining from employers satisfactory terms_," it was -maintained, clearly authorized such boycotts as that prosecuted against -the Danbury Hatters. That proceeding, it was pointed out, was entirely -peaceable--there was no law-breaking, no rioting, no bloodshed. It -would also legalize, it was said, many of those arrangements between -labor unions and employers--by which employers' associations contract -to employ only members of certain labor unions, the latter, on their -part, contracting to work only for certain employers--which were -brought to such perfection by the late Sam Parks. Mr. Gompers demanded -that, if the clause in question did not authorize boycotts, another -should be substituted which did; to make the case sure, therefore, he -proposed an amendment which did so in no uncertain tone. The following -extract from the record clearly defines Mr. Gompers' position: - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: Now, Mr. Gompers, a word. Would this amendment - you suggest, if it became a law, authorize the prosecution of such - a boycott as was attempted in the Danbury Hatters' case, which was - in violation of the Sherman Anti-trust Law? Is that the purpose? - - MR. GOMPERS: One of the purposes; yes, sir. That case was brought - under the Sherman Anti-trust Law. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: Yes. And the purpose of the amendment you have - offered is to relieve you from the operation of the Sherman - Anti-trust Law as construed by the court in that case? - - MR. GOMPERS: Yes, sir. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: And to authorize that kind of an inter-State - boycott? - - MR. GOMPERS: Yes, sir. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: Do you, as the representative of organized labor, - favor the boycott, both as an inter-State and a local proposition? - - MR. GOMPERS: I do, sir. - - MR. LITTLEFIELD: And your organization stands for that? - - MR. GOMPERS: It does, sir.[K] - - -_Government to Discriminate Between Good and Bad Trusts_ - -As to monopolistic corporations, the proposed act placed them entirely -under the supervision of the executive branch of the government. If -you wished to form a trust, or enter into a restraining contract, -and, at the same time, to escape the prohibition of the Sherman -Act, you would first, under the provision of this bill, submit the -proposed arrangement to the Commissioner of Corporations and answer -such questions as he saw fit to ask. If he gave approval, you could -go ahead and carry out the deal, practically secure against further -interference. If he disapproved, you would be liable to attack under -the Sherman Act. In fact, the administration was to be given arbitrary -power to discriminate between good and bad trusts, to separate the -corporation sheep from the corporation goats. "You are all right," it -could say to one combination; "you are all wrong," it could say to -another. The federal government, in other words, was to rule absolutely -the business activities of nearly 80,000,000 of people; merely by a -word it could authorize a gigantic combination like the United States -Steel Company, and prohibit another like the Standard Oil. - - -_"Reasonable" and "Unreasonable" Combinations_ - -The above statement gives the effect and not precisely the form -of the proposed legislation. What its authors really hoped to -accomplish was executive discrimination between those combinations -and those restraints of trade which were reasonable and those which -were unreasonable. They based their measure upon the theory that -certain combinations, even many whose tendency is to restrain trade -and increase prices to the consumer, may still work for the public -interest. The word "reasonable" has played an important part in the -history of the Sherman Act. In several cases the corporations, in -contesting the law, have made the claim that this act did not prohibit -all combinations in restraint of trade, but only those which were -"unreasonable." They set up this defense most strongly in the famous -Trans-Missouri case, already described. Eighteen railroads, it may be -repeated, had formed an association for the purpose of fixing freight -rates. James C. Carter, who argued the case, strongly asserted that -such an agreement was beneficial both to the railroads and to the -public; the history of railroads having conclusively proved that -cut-throat competition inevitably led to bankruptcy and demoralization -in railroad service. He therefore claimed that the proposed restraint -in trade was "reasonable" and consequently not prohibited by the -Sherman Act. The Supreme Court, by a majority of five to four, rejected -this theory. The Sherman Act, it pointed out, in express language -made illegal "_every_ contract, combination in the form of trust or -otherwise, or conspiracy, in restraint of trade"; and made "_every_ -person" who was a party to such contract a criminal. It left absolutely -no leeway--it did not discriminate in the remotest degree between those -which were reasonable and those which were not. Since then all demands -for the modification of the act have hinged upon this one point. - - -_Andrew Carnegie on Combinations_ - -This demand, of course, has precipitated a very nice problem in -definition. What is a reasonable combination? What is an unreasonable -one? What is a good trust? What is a bad one? Upon this all-important -question the many weary hearings extending through four months before -the Judiciary Committee last winter shed practically no light. The -Civic Federation bill was based upon this fundamental distinction; -and a large number of distinguished citizens appeared in favor of -it. Congressman Littlefield, as each speaker appeared before the -Committee, asked him to give a concrete illustration of a combination, -forbidden by the Sherman Act, which really promoted the public interest -and was therefore "reasonable." Mr. Seth Low frankly admitted that he -could name no concrete case of the kind. He caused some amusement, -however, when he read a letter from Andrew Carnegie touching upon this -very subject. "One point seems to me essential," wrote Mr. Carnegie, -"without it, little general progress can be made; namely, when new -combinations are proposed, the first question must always be 'what is -the object sought?' _In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, it will -undoubtedly be to rob the community of its right to the benefits of -free competition, disguise it as one may_; therefore the Commissioner's -duty is to obtain satisfactory proof that the application is to -cover an exceptional case. The conditions must be peculiar, as those -of common carriers and steel-rail agreements are." Mr. Carnegie's -statement that ninety-nine per cent of trade agreements are made for -the purpose of "robbing the community" and his implication that the -exceptional one per cent are the agreements involving the manufacturers -of steel rails, naturally provoked much hilarity. - -Only two other illustrations were furnished of benevolent combinations. -Mr. Herbert Knox Smith, commissioner of corporations, instanced a -proposed agreement among lumber men to cut only a certain amount -of timber each year, the ostensible purpose being to prevent the -wanton destruction of the forests. It appeared, however, that the -real purpose of such an agreement was not to preserve the forests, -but to restrict the output, and increase prices, and consequently -the profits of the lumber men. Another illustration offered was the -combination of patent medicine dealers to fix prices and prohibit -price cutting--the object, it was said, being to prevent the unfair -competition of large department stores with retail druggists. But this, -in the last analysis, was generally believed to be a concerted attempt -to destroy competition and enhance the profits of patent medicine -makers. Congressman Littlefield insisted, throughout the entire -proceedings, that the fundamental purpose of forbidden combinations was -to control the product and thereby increase the price to the consumer. -If there were any combinations that did not have that purpose or -result, then the Sherman Act, according to Mr. Littlefield's analysis, -did not prohibit them. Thus in all attempts to define practically -reasonableness and unreasonableness, as applied to trade agreements, -the statement was repeatedly made that the large part of the business -of this country was done in violation of law; that business men lived -constantly in a state of terror from the fear of its enforcement; that -its presence on the statute books largely explained existing business -depression. When it came to defining precisely what they wished to do, -however, none of those who favored the bill became specific. The thing -finally simmered down to a statement by Mr. Low that the law was "a -very important element in the psychological condition of business men -to-day." - - -_Indulgences to be Granted to Corporations_ - -This particular power of defining reasonableness and unreasonableness, -however, the proposed law centered in the President, acting through -the Commissioner of Corporations. It provided a limited system of -federal registration for corporations, and, in a modified form, for -federal license and publicity--the two circumstances which probably -led President Roosevelt to support the measure. In effect it granted -indulgences to corporations to combine, provided they would do certain -things. The Sherman Law, as it stands to-day, was not specifically to -be repealed; it was simply to be waived in favor of those combinations -and trusts which paid the price of these indulgences. In order to -obtain absolution, the offending corporation must do two things: -register with the Bureau of Corporations and answer such questions -as might be propounded to it. The bill authorized the President to -determine precisely what information should be exacted, and also to -change from time to time the requirements regarding data. That is, for -registered corporations, it gave the executive branch of the government -absolute inquisitorial power. Registered corporations had the right -to file with the Bureau any agreement or contract or combination to -which it became a party--the precise kind of transactions made illegal -by the Sherman Act. The Commissioner had thirty days in which to -examine such contracts; if, within that period, he declared them in -reasonable restraint of trade, then they became practically legal.[L] -If not, then they could be proceeded against under the Sherman Law. -The chief point of criticism in this arrangement was the stipulation -for a thirty-day period during which the Commissioner must pass upon -these contracts. This, it was asserted, was the loop-hole by which the -corporations were to secure immunity. The Commissioner must declare -these contracts reasonable or unreasonable within thirty days; if -he failed to act upon them in that time, they became reasonable, -precisely as if he had declared them to be so. How, it has been -asked, could the Bureau possibly act intelligently within that period -upon many of the exceedingly intricate questions which would come up -for judgment? Whether a contract is reasonable, of course, largely -depends upon the way it affects prices. An examination would therefore -frequently involve an economic study of the particular trade, as well -as the organization of the particular corporation involved. It would -be necessary to go deeply into capitalization, values behind this -capitalization, cost of production, wages, transportation charges -and so on. There are said to be more than 200,000 corporations in -existence. Supposing half or a quarter should register,--how could -the Bureau possible examine them within thirty days? Would it be -possible to investigate the United States Steel Corporation within -that period? Under the suggested law, however, unless the Commissioner -passed judgment within this time, all these contracts and combinations -would automatically receive a certificate of good character. In their -interest, the Sherman Act would practically be repealed. - -In the main, this provision referred to contracts made and combinations -to be formed in the future; another section practically extended -immunity to all contracts and combinations now in existence. Nearly -all trusts organized in the last forty years, and all restraining -agreements, were to become valid. The government was to have a year in -which to institute proceedings against such corporations as declined -to register. If it failed to do so within this time, then these -combinations could never be attacked on any ground whatever, and -became regularly fixed institutions. As there are about five hundred -corporations popularly known as trusts and myriads of trade agreements -now forbidden, the law department, it was suggested, would have its -hands full if it attempted to bring suit against them all within twelve -months. Moreover, after the passage of the proposed act, the government -could not proceed against any combination except on one ground--that -it was an unreasonable restraint of trade. Under the Sherman Act, it -will be remembered, it can prosecute without any reference to the -question as to whether the restraint is reasonable or not. If the act -had passed, in other words, the position of the government would have -been this: within a year it could have assailed the trusts only on -the grounds of unreasonableness; after the expiration of a year it -could assail them on no ground whatever. A saving clause, however, -provided that the government could prosecute all actions already -begun. That is, it could follow up to the end the pending cases against -the Standard Oil, the American Tobacco Company and other corporations -against which it has already started suit. It could not prosecute, -however, the United States Steel Corporation, for it has instituted no -proceeding in that direction. It was the Attorney of the United States -Steel Corporation, Mr. Francis Lynde Stetson, who had a large hand in -framing the bill. - -These facts have led many observers to believe that the bill in -question represented an underhanded attempt, by large corporations, -especially the United States Steel, practically to remove the -Sherman Anti-trust Law from the statute book. Mr. E. H. Gary and -Mr. George W. Perkins spent many days in Congress while the bill -was under discussion, though they did not once openly appear before -the committee. No criticism affecting the good faith of Mr. Low and -Professor Jenks, the most active open advocates of the bill, was -put forth. The discussion disclosed the fact, however, that the -Sherman Act, as it stands at present, has many friends. Organizations -interested in curbing the unlawful activities of labor unions insisted -that that law, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, is practically -the only protection American industry has against the boycott. Repeal -or seriously modify it, they declared, and a régime of labor union -terrorism far surpassing any hitherto known in any country, would -at once begin. The plan of Mr. Gompers and his associates to shelve -this law, they insisted, was merely part of their general scheme to -remove all legal restraints from the operations of labor unions. -Opinions did not seem quite so unanimous as to the wisdom of the -Sherman Act in its bearings upon corporations. Though many declared -that this measure is too sweeping and drastic, and should be amended, -no one has yet suggested any practical way of framing a new law. No -one who has studied the problem of trust regulation, it is believed, -has thus far hit upon a plan that, while it gives greater leeway to -the corporations, protects the public from arbitrarily high prices -and other exactions. There is thus a growing conviction that the act -passed by the great constitutional lawyers of 1890 represents the best -attainable result in this direction. It has not stopped the growth of -trusts, it is true; but whether that is because it does not furnish the -means or because it has not been sufficiently enforced, is the disputed -question. "What is needed," recently said ex-Senator Edmunds, the -man who was the real author of the Sherman Act, "is not so much more -legislation as competent and earnest administration of the laws that -exist." - - [J] In the Debs case the Circuit Court based its decision almost - entirely upon the Sherman Law. The Supreme Court of the United - States, in affirming this decision, rested mainly on the broader - question of the interference with the United States mails. Justice - Brewer, however, who wrote the decision, specifically said that - this fact did not mean that the Supreme Court dissented from the - grounds on which the lower tribunal had decided the case. - - [K] In Justice to Mr. Low and Mr Jenks it should be said that they - disclaimed any intention of indorsing a bill which authorized - the boycott. They afterward amended the clause in question by - authorizing employees "to strike for any cause not unlawful at - common law," which modification leads into many legal fogs which - it is hardly worth while to enter in this place. - - [L] The bill provided, it is true, that the contracts might still - be assailed on the ground of unreasonableness. The practical - effect, however, it was generally conceded--virtually admitted by - Herbert Knox Smith--would be to give them immunity for all time. - - - - -THE ETERNAL FEMININE - -BY TEMPLE BAILEY - - -If it had been any one but Anne Beaumont! - -"I don't like turning conventionalities topsy-turvy, Sophie," she said, -as we went downstairs; "I don't believe I can ever ask a man to dance -with me." - -"Other women do," I murmured. - -"My husband would never have agreed to such a thing," Anne stated. - -That is where Anne always had the advantage of me. Although she had -been a widow for five years, she still quoted the authoritative -masculine point of view, while I, having in my teens chosen a career -instead of a husband, and never having rectified my mistake, was forced -to fall back on the unsupported feminine. - -"Perhaps you'd rather sit out the dances," was my somewhat malicious -way of putting it. - -Anne, poised like a white butterfly on the landing, turned on me a -reproachful glance. - -"No woman would rather be a wallflower," she affirmed. - -"Of course not," I returned promptly, "and I don't believe it is going -to be very bad after the first plunge." - -Anne leaned over the stair rail and surveyed the formidable group of -men in the lower hall. "It's dreadful," she said. Then, gathering about -her a scarf of silver tissue, she commanded, "You go first, Sophie," -and we descended together. - -At the foot of the stairs, Charlemagne Dabney met us. - -"Charlie, boy," Anne said plaintively, "ask me to dance with you. I -simply can't get used to the leap-year idea----" - -And I, having prepared to blunder into a formal, "May I have the -pleasure?" was so illumined by her method that I employed it with -success--for though I lacked Anne's appealing coquetry, I challenged -old friends, and my card was soon filled. - -But Anne did not depend on old friends. She danced with the count -from Hungary, the multi-millionaire from the West, the Senator from -Kentucky, and to fill up spaces she fell back on Charlemagne Dabney. - -"I think it was lovely of you," she told him at supper, "to open the -house for the week-end and the dance. Only, it's too bad that you -insist on the leap-year idea for the whole time." - -Across the table Elizabeth Ames sparkled radiantly. "I like it. I -didn't dance with a single bore, and before I go home I am going to ask -all of the men to marry me!" - -Anne's face wore its most gracious expression, but I knew how she felt. -Elizabeth is eighteen and pretty. Anne is twice eighteen and pretty. -And there's a difference. - -Anne opened her eyes very wide and said to Charlemagne, "You see what -you've done? Elizabeth is going to ask you to marry her." - -Charlemagne smiled at Elizabeth. "No such good luck. There are too many -young fellows who will accept her before she gives me the chance." - -Elizabeth laughed back, "Don't be too sure that you'll escape." - -Anne's delicate eyebrows were raised. "Of course she is joking; no -woman would really ask a man----" - -Charlemagne sighed. "I wish one woman would." - -Anne's lashes fluttered. "Why don't you ask her?" she challenged. - -He shrugged his shoulders. "I feel weak in the knees when I think of -it," he said, "for fear she might say 'no'." - -"Faint heart," I murmured, but no one paid any attention to me. - -It seemed to me, after that, as if some of the brightness had gone -out of Elizabeth's face. But Anne fairly scintillated. And she was -exceedingly amiable to Elizabeth. - -"Ask the count first," I heard her say, "he's simply charming." - -Elizabeth flung up her head in a quick way. She was all in sheer pale -yellow, bordered with daffodils, and there was a twist of gold ribbon -in her fair hair. Only extreme youth could have worn it, and, as she -flashed her answer back to Anne, I had never seen her more beautiful. - -"The count wouldn't have me as a precious gift," she said. "I'm too -crude. He likes a more finished product--like you, dear Mrs. Beaumont." - -"Now, what do you suppose she meant by that?" said Anne that night, -when we were in our kimonos and were comforting our complexions with -cold cream. "Do you think she meant it for a compliment, or was it a -reflection on my age?" - -"No one can reflect on your age," I told her. "Nobody knows it but -Charlemagne and me, and we won't tell." - -"That's the advantage of living on the other side and coming back to -meet the younger generation," said Anne; "they haven't kept tab on the -years." - -She got up and moved restlessly about the room. With the cream on her -face and with her hair down, she looked old, and I had a vision of -Elizabeth in the yellow gown. - -Perhaps something of my thought showed, for Anne stopped suddenly and -gazed into a long mirror set in the door. "Oh, youth, youth, Sophie," -she cried. - -"Anne," I said, "come away from that mirror. No one can be beautiful -with her face full of cold cream." - -She laughed and dropped down on the rug in front of me, and after a -while she said, "Did you hear what he said to-night?" - -"About wishing a certain woman would ask him?" - -"Yes. He will never ask me, Sophie. He thinks I am still mourning my -husband--he thinks I don't care----" - -There wasn't much to be said after that. But before I left her, I -whispered, "Why don't you tell him, Anne?" - -Anne's shocked eyes condemned me. "Oh, Sophie, as if a woman _could_!" - -I passed Elizabeth Ames' room on my way to my own, and she called to -me, "Come in, Miss Sophie." - -"It's so late," I protested, standing on the threshold. - -But she was insistent. "Please come," she begged. - -"You ought to be in bed," I scolded, "getting your beauty sleep." - -But even as I said it, I knew she didn't need it, for she was as -daintily fresh as a rose. Her fair hair hung down in two heavy braids -over her white gown. She looked like a lovely child. - -"Miss Sophie," she said abruptly, when she had put me into a big chair -in front of the fire, "tell me about Anne Beaumont and Mr. Dabney----" - -"What about them?" I asked innocently. - -"Were they in love with each other--years ago--before she married Mr. -Beaumont?" - -I nodded. "They were engaged, and Anne was very young. She had never -seen much of other men, and when Mr. Beaumont came along, with his -air of foreign distinction, she was fascinated and broke off her -engagement. But she never really cared for Mr. Beaumont----" - -"And you think Mr. Dabney has--has stayed single for her sake?" - -"I think so. Yes." - -"And you think he loves her still----?" - -"You heard what he said to-night?" - -"I don't call that love," she cried. "If he cared, he'd tell her. He -couldn't help it. It would just come--if he really loved her----" - -"He thinks that she has never cared--and he isn't an impetuous boy----" - -"I know--but he's a _man_." She was all aglow. "And if he cared, his -heart would say, 'I love you, I love you, I love you,' and then his -lips would say it----" - -"You believe, then, that he doesn't care for her?" - -"His allegiance is a memory--an old dream--of the girl she was, not of -the woman she is. Isn't she older than he, Miss Sophie?" - -"She is younger," I said gravely. - -"She seems older--and--it's spoiling his life. He--he won't look at -another woman--because in a way he feels bound to her. Some day I'm -going to tell him." - -I stared at her. "Tell him what, Elizabeth?" - -"That he is throwing away his happiness--that there are other women." - -She had risen and stood in front of me with her hand on her heart. Her -eyes were like stars, and the radiance of youth shone from within and -round about her. If Charlemagne should see her in such a mood---- - -I thought of Anne, dear Anne. - -"Elizabeth," I said sharply, "if you should tell him that, he would -think--that you--cared." - -She swept out her arms in a charming gesture of surrender. - -"Well, if he did," she cried, defiantly, "what then?" - - * * * * * - -All that night Elizabeth and Anne contended in my dreams, and in the -morning, worn to a frazzle, I went down to breakfast, to find that -Elizabeth had gone for a ride with Charlemagne, and that Anne was still -in bed. - -I drifted into the library and found there a circle of somewhat -fagged-out feminines. The men were riding or on the links. - -From the light bits of conversation that were wafted to me as I sat -and read in the window-seat, I gathered that most of the women took -Charlemagne's leap-year idea as a joke, but I knew that to Elizabeth -and Anne the question presented itself seriously, and that each would -settle it in her own way, and according to the tradition of her own -time. - -For that education and environment had made the difference, I did not -doubt. Had Elizabeth been born eighteen years earlier, when women were -taught the mysteries of advance and retreat, that coquetry was their -best weapon, and that man must always be the wooer, she might have felt -all of Anne's shrinking from a revelation of herself; whereas had Anne -been brought up in the later days when boys and girls mingle in close -comradeship, when plays and books subtly analyze the state of woman as -the pursuer and man as the pursued, she might have been as frank about -her feelings as Elizabeth. - -Hence, I argued, they were both of them what their generation had made -them, and I, who loved Anne, and adored her for her womanliness, was -yet forced to admit the potency of Elizabeth's youth, and the charm of -her complete surrender. - -After a time the men began to drift in, and I heard the -multi-millionaire from the West inquiring for Elizabeth. He was a big, -broad-shouldered fellow, sure of himself, but not unpleasantly so, and -when he couldn't find the girl he wanted, he came over and talked to me. - -"Say," he began at once, "it's all tommyrot about this leap-year -business. When I want a girl to do anything, I want to ask her. It -makes me feel foolish to have to wait for her to come to me. I wish -Dabney would cut it out." - -"But think what an opportunity for a girl to get what _she_ wants," I -said. - -"They don't know what they want," he stated dogmatically. "The way to -win a woman is to pick her up and put her on a horse and run away with -her----" - -"Suppose she doesn't care to be run away with?" I asked. - -"Oh, she'd settle down to it," he said securely; "and besides that, I -can't really imagine a nice girl asking a man to marry her." - -I thought of Elizabeth as she had stood with her hand on her heart and -had hurled defiance at conventions. - -"Girls are hard to understand," I murmured. - -"Oh, I don't know," he contended. "If a man gets right down to -primitive principles and keeps after her, he'll get her--and it makes -me hot to think I am wasting valuable time trying to stick to Dabney's -old rules, when I have to go back West again on Monday." - -I wanted to be sure, so I murmured, "Of course it's Elizabeth Ames?" - -"Who else?" he demanded. "Oh, I'm going to jump over the traces, Miss -Sophie, and let her know I mean business. This thing of sitting around -and letting her go off with another man--you know she's riding with -Dabney this morning?" - -I nodded. - -"He's twice her age, and she _thinks_ she likes him. Girls get romantic -streaks, and Dabney's the kind they put up on a pedestal, but he isn't -any more suited to her than--a bunch of beets----" - -"I suppose not," was all the response I dared venture in the face of -such an outpouring of eloquence. - -"They are coming now," he said, and through the window I saw -them--Elizabeth, looking like a little girl in her three-cornered hat, -with her hair tied with a broad black ribbon, and Charlemagne sitting -his horse like a centaur. - -The Westerner deserted me at once, and, the rest of the guests -following, I was left alone in the library. - -I curled up in the window-seat, drew the curtains to shield me from the -gaze of those who might step within, and tried to take forty winks to -make up for the four hundred I had missed the night before. - -But I couldn't sleep. Elizabeth and Anne--Anne and Elizabeth! I -couldn't get their affairs out of my mind. Would Elizabeth propose, -would Anne, would Charlemagne, would the multi-millionaire? Again and -again I tried to fit together their widely different theories, until in -despair I wished that Charlemagne and his leap-year week-end had not -tempted me from my maidenly apartment in town, where the worries of -lovers were confined to my manuscripts. - -And even as I pondered, I heard Elizabeth's voice saying, as she came -in from the porch, "I suppose you think I am awfully forward to make -you spend all your morning with me----" - -As he followed her into the library, Charlemagne laughed. "I might -feel flattered," he said, "if I didn't know you were doing it to make -McChesney furious." - -McChesney was the multi-millionaire. - -"McChesney?" Elizabeth's tone was startled. - -"Don't hedge," Charlemagne teased. "He's bound to win out, Elizabeth. -No woman can escape a man when he goes for her like that. You might as -well give in." - -"I shall never give in." - -"He's a nice fellow." - -"He's not my ideal----" there was a pathetic note of appeal in her -young voice. - -"Ah--ideals----" Charlemagne had dropped his banter. "Don't spoil your -happiness looking for the ideal man--he's like the pot of gold at the -end of the rainbow--something we hear of, but have never seen." - -There was a heavy silence. Then Elizabeth said, catching her breath, -"But--but I have found my ideal, Mr. Dabney." - -"You have? And it's not McChesney?" - -I peeped at them through the curtain. They were in big wicker chairs -in front of the door that led to the porch. Elizabeth had taken off -her coat, showing her thin white blouse with its crisp frills. Her -cheeks were as pink as the rose which she picked to pieces with nervous -fingers. - -"No," she said tremulously, "it's--it's not Mr. McChesney." - -I held my breath. Would she dare? - -"It's--it's a man much older than I am," she went on, "and--and I don't -know that he has ever thought of me--in that way--perhaps if he had, he -might like me--a little----" - -I am sure that Charlemagne felt the charm of her youth, as she made -her little confession, and I am just as sure that he was absolutely -innocent that he was the object of it. - -"He would undoubtedly love you more than a little," he said heartily. -"Look here, Elizabeth, you won't mind telling me who he is--will -you----?" - -Here was an opportunity holding out open arms, and did Elizabeth -embrace it as beseemed an advocate of woman's right to woo? - -Not she! She simply gasped in a panic-stricken way and stood up. - -"Oh, _no_," she whispered, with her cheeks flaming, "I couldn't--I -couldn't tell any one." - -Before Charlemagne could answer, McChesney blundered in. - -"Say----" he stopped dead still on the threshold, "I think this is a -case of monopoly. I'm tired of hanging around waiting for the girl I -want. I am going to break the rules, Dabney, and ask Miss Ames to take -me for a walk in the rose garden." - -And Elizabeth actually turned to him with an air of relief. - -"Oh, yes," she said breathlessly, "I'd love it!" - -And away they went. And Charlemagne, turning back into the library, met -Anne Beaumont coming in at the other door. - -She wore a thin, trailing white gown, and there were dark shadows under -her eyes. She looked tired and fragile and every day of her thirty-six -years. - -"Anne!" Charlemagne said, as if for him all the morning stars sang -together. - -Anne dropped into the chair where Elizabeth had been. - -"I'm afraid I'm awfully late getting down," she faltered, "but--but my -head ached." - -Charlemagne stood behind her chair, and there was a look on his face -that, for the first time, made me ashamed of my eavesdropping. The -other had been comedy, but this was real. - -"Poor little Anne," he said. - -Anne propped her chin on her hand and gazed out through the open door -with wide eyes. - -"Yes," she said slowly, "poor little Anne." - -He came around and took the other chair. "I wish--I knew how I might -comfort you," he said. - -For a moment Anne looked at him with that wide stare, then, like a -flash, it came. "Oh, Charlie, Charlie boy," she cried, "why don't you -ask me to marry you--I can't ask you, you know----" - -Before she had finished, he was on his knees beside her, and then I -shut my eyes and put my fingers in my ears, for the time had come when -I had no right to hear or see. - -But as for theories--Oh, who knows _what_ a woman will do? There was -Elizabeth and there was Anne---- - -But I never would have believed it of Anne! - - [Illustration] - - - - -THE MOTHER OF ANGELA ANN - -BY CLARA E. LAUGHLIN - -ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALICE BARBER STEPHENS - - -I - -Henry Street, drowned in November murk, was black as Tartarus and -a shade more dreadful, as a heavily built man stumbled along its -unfamiliar bumps and intermittent stretches of sidewalk, stopping now -and then to peer vainly at doors for a number. Presently he encountered -a wisp of a girl with a jacket thrown about her head and shoulders. - -"Where's twenty-one?" he asked. - -She pointed. "Who d'ye want?" - -"Casey." - -"In the rear--I'll show ye," and she led the way to a precipitous -flight of steps. "Ye go down, an' 'long 's far 's ye kin, thin turn t' -th' right an' knock," she said, and disappeared in the mist. - -Groping his way, the man reached the end of a long passage between two -tenements and knocked at a rear door. A woman opened it. - -"Th' ditictive," she murmured, and let him in. - -The kitchen was stifling close; a fire raged to the brim of the big, -heavily nickeled stove which had cost the Caseys so dear in instalments -and in worry. Casey had been working for two weeks, and the bin outside -the kitchen door had a ton of soft coal in it. In a bracket above the -sink was a lamp whose tin reflector, instead of diffusing the light -rays, seemed to concentrate them, like a feeble searchlight, so that -the corners of the kitchen were all in gloom, and half-lost in gloom -were the forms of the Caseys, whose pallid faces showed sharply against -the dusk. - -"Had any word?" said the detective, addressing Mrs. Casey. To the -relief of the parents and the bitter disappointment of the children, he -was a plain-clothes man. - -"Niver a worrd." - -The detective consulted a memorandum. - -"You say she left home Monday morning, just as usual, to go to work?" - -"Yissir; she wint down th' alley here hummin' a chune an' as gay as a -burrd." - -"And you don't think she intended to stay away?" - -Mary Casey's eyes flashed. "If I t'ought a gyurl o' mine could walk out -an' l'ave me, intintional, wid a chune on her lyin' lips, I'd not ask -ye t' be findin' her," she said. - -"Did she have a beau?" - -"None thot I iver see. She used t' be after talkin', sometoimes, 'bout -gran' fellies she'd see downtown, an' I always sez to her, 'You mark -me worrds an' l'ave gran' fellies be. They don't mane no good t' th' -loikes o' you,' I sez. 'Thim fellies spinds ivry cint they git on their -gold watches an' swallie-tails, an' whin they marry they got t' marry -a gyurl wid money t' support thim. Whin yer old enough t' take up wid -anny wan,' I sez, 'yer pa or yer Uncle Tim'll introjuce ye t' some nice -young lab'rin' man wid a good trade an' ambition t' git on, an' you -work fer him whoile he works fer you.' 'Ah, ye don' know nothin' 'bout -it,' she'd say t' me, an' 'Don't you belave thot,' I'd say t' her, 'I'm -nothin' t' look at, an' I ain't got mooch style about me, but I got -some knowlidge o' min,' I sez, 'an' they're a bad lot, aven th' bist o' -thim. An' you git it out o' yer hid,' I sez, 'thot anny gran' felly's -goin' t' marry you, or th' loikes o' you. Ye may rade such foolishness -in yer story paapers er see it at yer theayters, but ye kin mark me -worrds thot love is fer tony folks thot kin afford it, an' not fer th' -loikes o' you an' me.'" - -Up to this time Casey had been conspicuously quiet. He had had his own -experiences with the Chicago police, who more than once had ordered -him to keep away from his abused family or go to the Bridewell. This -was buried deep in the voluminous records of the desk sergeant; but -Casey had not the comfort of knowing that there were a thousand kindred -cases piled a-top of his, so he kept discreetly in the shadow until -the detective asked, "Was she gay at all?" and Mrs. Casey replied: - -"She be a little granehorn, wid no sinse yet. I'm after taalkin' t' her -th' whole, blissed toime 'bout kapin' straight, an' not l'avin' her go -by dances er stay out nights, but I dunno--ye can't kape thim in yer -pocket, an' whin a gyurl have her livin' t' earn anny place she kin -foind it, 't ain't her mother thot know fer sure wheer she is or what -she be." - -At this Casey sat suddenly forward in his chair, and the streak of -light fell full across his face, swollen with tears and streaked with -the grime of three awful days. Despite the grime, however, despite the -stubble of reddish beard, the unkempt hair and untidy clothes, there -was something singularly pathetic about him, with his great, Irish-blue -eyes and youthful, innocent-looking face. He had not been drinking for -some weeks, and he wore no air of sottishness, nor of vagrancy, nor of -any of his other crimes against self and family and society. - -"I dunno what I ever done," he had moaned for three days, rocking back -and forth in his misery, the tears raining down his unwashed cheeks and -splashing from his stubbly chin, "I dunno what I ever done that this -thing should 'a' happened t' me! My gyurl! My Ang'la Ann!" - -"She were a good gyurl," he said to the detective, sitting suddenly -forward. - -"So far 's we know, she were," his wife amended, "but she had no sinse -yet, bein' so young, an' th' young niver belaves th' old. I don' see -how a gyurl o' mine could go wrong, an' me hatin' it th' way I do. But -she have more o' him in her nor o' me, down t' thim same shifty blue -eyes thot kin look so swate, an' God knows what divilment's behint -thim!" - -Casey smiled in wan coquetry at this charge against his fascinations, -but reiterated in defense of his daughter: - -"She were a good gyurl. I seen a piece o' this world, of'cer, an' I kin -till--min like us, we kin till gyurls that's merely flightsome from -thim that's gon' t' th' bad. If she's bad, I don' want ye t' find her. -Jes' show me th' felly thot lied t' her, an' I'll kill him--but I don' -want ye t' find her; I don' niver want t' set eyes on her ag'in, if -she've brought disgrace on me." - -"Ye won't lit it git in th' paapers, will ye?" Mary Casey pleaded -for the twentieth time in her brief communications with the police. -"Yell kape thim aff av her, won't ye--fer th' love o' Hiven? I'm after -tellin' th' childern I'll kill th' first wan o' thim thot breathes t' -a soul we don' know wheer Ang'la Ann is. Ag'in' she be all right an' -come home some day, it'd go hard wid her if these Sheenies 'round here -knew she was gon'--people do belave th' worst of a gyurl, always. I -dunno what t' think o' my Ang'la Ann, but I don' want it to go haard -wid her if she don' desarve it." - -The detective promised about the papers and went his way. A missing -girl, with no probable complications of a horrible murder, excited -only the feeblest interest at Maxwell Street, and this visit would -comprehend the whole of the police activity expended in the case unless -Angela Ann should happen to turn up under their incurious noses. - -The facts of the case were these: Angela Ann Casey, a slim, -under-sized, pretty young thing just under eighteen, had left home -on Monday morning, November 7th, apparently to go to work, and had -not been seen since by her family or any one they knew. She was an -unskilled worker, a bit of flotsam in the industrial whirlpool so cruel -to her kind. In the summer she had worked for a few weeks in a cannery, -pasting labels on fruit cans. When the cannery shut down, she answered -an "ad" for extra help in the rush season of a cap factory, which laid -her off when work slackened. And after a fortnight's idleness she was -taken on as a bundle-wrapper in a cheap department store, where she met -a girl who told her of a place needing more girls for the manufacture -of cheap finery for the "levee" trade. Angela Ann applied, and was -given work at a knife-pleating machine, at four dollars and a half a -week. She was in this job, to the best of her mother's belief, when -she disappeared; but a visit to the place on Tuesday laid bare the -startling fact that she had "give notice" on Saturday night. - -Angela Ann had few intimates; her associates changed with her changes -of occupation, and these were so many that she took root nowhere. A -girl on Blue Island Avenue, to whose house Angela Ann sometimes went, -called at Henry Street Tuesday evening and was told that Angela was out. - -"She's tellin' me she have a gran' fella," said the girl questioningly. - -"She have," lied Mary promptly, "did she iver tell ye his name?" - -No, she hadn't; so Mary said maybe Angela Ann wouldn't want her to tell -it either. - -Mary's sister, Maggie O'Connor, who was married to a "will-t'-do" -blacksmith and lived but a few blocks away, had also heard of a stylish -young man who could not be asked to the back cellar on Henry Street, or -even allowed to suspect it. In family council Mrs. O'Connor testified -that she had offered her own "parlie" for the courting. - -"'Bring him here an' l'ave us have a look at him,' I sez to her. 'Ye -kin have th' parlie anny toime ye want it,' I sez, 'an' if yer 'shamed -o' yer Uncle Tim's brogue, he kin stay in th' shop, an' I'll talk t' -him mesilf,' I sez." - -But Angela Ann had not accepted this handsome offer, nor had she -confided the name of the young man to Mrs. O'Connor, who only knew that -Angela Ann had assured her he was a gentleman beyond a doubt, for he -had a gold watch and chain. - -Fired by this information, which he considered an important clue, -Casey was for carrying it at once to the police so that they might -investigate all young men wearing gold watches and thereby in due -process find the one who knew Angela Ann. But before he could get -away to furnish the detectives with this important information, Mrs. -O'Connor had made some further suggestions. The chief of these was -touching the advisability of consulting a fortune-teller. - -"Thim coppers," she opined, "is no good. Tim's after radin' a lot about -thim in th' paapers, an' he sez they niver ketch nothin' 't all. He -sint ye a dollar wid me and sez he, 'You till thim t' stop foolin' wid -coppers an' go t' th' forchune-teller,' sez he." - -"I belave it have more t' do wid what th' forchune-teller know than -wid what thim coppers kin foind out," reflected Mary Casey. It was the -morning after the detective's visit, and Mrs. O'Connor had come over -to ask the news. "Theer's somet'ing I didn't till th' ditictive," Mary -confessed, "not knowin' how he'd take it--but the day befoore Ang'la -Ann wint, a quare, wan-eyed cat kem here. Ivrywheer I wint thot day she -traipsed at me heels, an' all Monday noight whin I was up watchin' fer -Ang'la, th' cat was on th' windie-sill, howlin' what sounded joost like -Aan-gla, Aan-gla, Aan-gla. Now what d'ye make o' thot?" - -Mrs. O'Connor had been fumbling in her plush wrist-bag during this -recital. "Say," she said presently, holding out a very dirty card, "th' -las' noight Ang'la Ann was t' our house she was after l'avin' th' baby -play wid her purse, an' th' baby spilt all th' t'ings out av it. We -picked thim up, an' I t'ought we got thim all, but whin I was clanein' -yiste'day, I foun' this card. It mus' be hers, fer Tim say he niver see -it, an' no more did I." - -The card read: - - [Illustration: O. HALBERG, - - _Dramatic Agent--West Madison Street_.] - -"That's him, I bet ye!" cried Casey excitedly, "that's th' felly wid -th' gol' watch an' chain!" - -"Wait a minute!" commanded Mrs. O'Connor impatiently, "Tim sez thot -have somet'ing t' do wid a theayter." - -"Sure," said Mary Casey, "Ang'la Ann wouldn't be so grane as t' ixpict -no theayter guy t' marry her! She'd ought t' know thim niver marries; -or if they do, they have a woife in ivery town, loike soldiers an' -travelin'-min! I niver bin to no theayter in my loife, but I know that -mooch!" - -Casey, who had lost his job by default, and had sat apathetically by -the stove ever since gray morning dawned after the frantic vigil of -Monday night, was struggling with the lacings of his shoes preparatory -to setting forth to demolish O. Halberg if he proved his guilt by -wearing a gold watch and chain. - -"Ye kin spend yer dollar on yer wan-eyed cat," he said indulgently, -"but as fer me, I got t' foind thot felly thot lied t' me gyurl." - -So the inaction of the past three days was over, temporarily at least. -Casey was bound for O. Halberg's and Mrs. Casey and Mrs. O'Connor were -going to approach some fortune-teller with the dollar and the tale of -the cat. But first of all Mary must go to the school and take Johnny -out to mind Dewey and the baby in her absence. - -"Now you be keerful," she adjured Casey as he made ready to go, "an' -don' kill nobody be mistaake. Th' bist way is t' kill nobody at all," -she continued cautiously. - -In spite of this caution, however, there would have been danger in -prospect if Casey had owned a gun or if he had taken a few drinks. As -it was, he was not a formidable figure when he presented himself at the -number on West Madison Street, a few doors from Halsted. - -There was a pawnshop on the first floor, and beside it a narrow door, -which opened upon a long flight of wooden stairs rising steeply to a -dark hall, where, by the light of a two-foot gas burner, Casey could -make out the name "O. Halberg" on one of the dozen doors. The name was -painted on a black tin plate tacked to a rear door. Casey knocked. - -"Come in," said a guttural voice. - -Entering, Casey saw a man sitting with his feet on a battered desk; -he was reading the morning paper and smoking a vile cigar. The -walls, calcimined a kind of ultramarine blue, but grimed and fouled -unspeakably, were hung with theatrical lithographs depicting thrilling -scenes from plays on the blood-and-thunder circuit. For the rest, the -furnishings were two wooden chairs, a giant cuspidor, and the desk, -which looked as if it had never been new. - -"Have I," said Casey in his grandest manner, "th' honor t' addriss Mr. -O. Halberg?" - -O. Halberg grunted that he had. Then Casey advanced a step further -into the room and looked about for a sight or trace of Angela Ann. -Nothing could have been more damning than O. Halberg's gold chain, but -in no likelihood would Angela Ann, by any stretch of courtesy, have -called him young; he was probably fifty, and not prepossessing from any -possible point of view. - -"Me name is Casey," ventured the visitor, "me gyurl is lost, an' I'm -lookin' fer her. We found this," proffering the dirty card, "an' we -t'ought mebbe you'd know wheer she is." - -Casey was proud of the neatness and despatch of his "ditictive" -methods, but more than a little disappointed to find so soon that he -was on the wrong trail entirely. Mr. Halberg was truly surprised to be -approached with any such query. A great many little silly, stage-struck -girls flocked to see him, of course, and no doubt some of them got -hold of his cards "in the hope of using them to impress managers," but -he had no recollection of any girl named Casey--none whatever. And he -resumed the reading of his paper. - -"I got th' coppers after her," murmured Casey apologetically, as he -took his leave, "but thim coppers is no good. Ag'in' ye want ditictive -work done, ye better do it yersilf." - -O. Halberg did not deign to reply, but when Casey was safely outside he -stepped to the door and locked it. In case the "coppers" came around, -it would be just as well to be "out"--it would save the coppers some -troublesome pretense. - -In his descent of the steep stairs Casey met two girls coming up. They -were about Angela Ann's age and were giggling nervously. One of them -held between thumb and finger a quarter-inch "ad" from a morning paper, -offering: - -"High-salaried positions in good road companies to young ladies of -pleasing appearance. O. Halberg, Dramatic Agent--West Madison Street." - -"Ask him if this is the place," said the girl who appeared to be -following the other's lead. Casey directed them to O. Halberg's door, -then went on his way. A moment later, while he stood on the corner of -Halsted Street waiting for a south-bound car, he saw the girls emerge -from the door by the pawnshop. They passed him as they went to take an -east-bound Madison Street car on the opposite corner. - -"Did ye foind him?" Casey asked. - -"No, he wasn't in." - -"That's quare," he said, startled, "he was there wan minute before." - -On his way home Casey dropped in at the Maxwell Street Station in a -free-and-easy manner he would not have dreamed possible two days ago. -He was so full of his "ditictive" experience that he felt he must have -some one, if only a copper, to talk it over with. The detective who had -called the night before wasn't in, so Casey related his recent daring -exploit to no less a personage than the desk sergeant himself. - -It was well poor Casey could not hear the desk sergeant's account of -the call after the self-appointed sleuth had gone on his way. - -Mrs. Casey was at home when her husband got there. Relating her -adventures, after she had listened to his, she said that the -fortune-teller, after accepting the dollar, had asked several searching -questions about the one-eyed cat. - -"'Ag'in' th' cat come back, yer gyurl 'll come home,' she sez t' me." - - -II - -The days dragged by. There seemed to be a complete lapse of the -stone-cutting industry, so Casey had nothing to take his mind from -his "ditictive" operations, which were interesting and unexhausting, -though expensive in car-fare and unproductive of results. Angela Ann's -weekly wage, for many years the main dependence of the family, being -lost to them, they were closer even than was their wont to starvation -and eviction; and winter was beginning to snarl around their warped, -ill-fitting doors. - -As time wore on, the poignant horror of Angela Ann's absence grew -mercifully less for all but Mary Casey. Night after night she wept the -long hours through, until Casey complained of the depressing effect of -her grief, and she felt constrained to hide it. - -"If I could on'y know she were dacintly dead," was her heart's cry, as -better hopes died in her, "Ag'in' a bye l'ave home, he kin knock around -an' pick up a bite here an' a lodgin' theer, an' be none th' worse fer -it. But a gyurl bees diff'runt! Theer's always thim watchin' 'round -thot's riddy t' do her harm." - -Meanwhile she lied bravely to the neighbors. "Angela Ann bees livin' -out an' have th' graandes' plaace," she told them impressively; "th' -lady she live wid 's after takin' her to Floridy fer to mind her little -bye." - -Mary's hope was strong that Christmas would see the wanderer's return, -but the holidays passed in unrewarded waiting. Casey had perforce -abandoned his search, and worked a day or two now and then. Though the -traces of really terrible suffering were still in his weak, winsome -face, he had long since forsaken all hope of Angela Ann's "safety with -honor," and, when it had come to seem unlikely that she ever would do -so, took comfort in vowing that she should never again darken the door -of his outraged home. - -Mary gave over pleading for her girl, in the interests of family peace, -but, more and more like a specter as the weeks wore away, she haunted -localities where Angela Ann had been or might be. Sometimes she had -the baby in her arms, but oftener she left it with Dewey at their Aunt -Maggie's, and roamed the streets unhampered in her never-ending quest. - -Evenings she would say, "I'll be goin' t' yer aunt's a bit," and -slip away into the engulfing dark, to reappear in the glare of light -marking the entrance to some cheap West Side theater or dance hall. -Gradually her excursions extended downtown, where she would take up her -station at the door of some place of amusement and stand watching the -pleasure-seekers pour in, then turn away and wander aimlessly up and -down the streets for an hour or so before facing homeward. In some way -she heard about stage doors, and took to haunting them. She saw many -girls of Angela's type, and wondered sadly if their mothers knew where -they were, but her own girl was not among them. In those nights on the -flaming streets she learned more about vice than she had ever dreamed -of in all her life, and the world came to seem to her a vast trap set -by the bestial for the unwary. - -Not hunger, nor cold, nor abuse, nor sickness, nor death, as it came -to five of her children, had driven Mary Casey to anything like the -poignancy of feeling that was hers now. Heretofore she had been -patiently dumb under affliction; now her spirit cried out in a passion -of pain that called straight upon Almighty God for an answer to its -anguished questionings. - -With the aid of Casey, who was a "scollard," and could "r'ade 'n' -write joost as aisy," she pored over the sensational papers in search -of stories about girls in trouble, and never a horror happened to an -unidentified girl anywhere but Mary was sure it was Angela Ann. - -Once there was an account of an unknown young woman found dead on -the prairies near Dunning, the county institution. It was Johnnie -who laboriously spelled out this story for her--Casey having gone to -that club of congenial spirits, O'Shaughannessy's saloon--and at ten -o'clock, when the children were all abed, her anxieties could brook -no more delay. Throwing a shawl about her head and shoulders, she -stole along the pitchy passageway, up the long flight of steps to the -sidewalk, clutching the torn fragment of newspaper in the hand that -held the shawl together beneath her chin. - -It was Saturday night, and the avenue was still brightly lighted. One -or two acquaintances greeted her, but she hurried by with only a nod -and a word. At Harrison and Halsted and Blue Island Avenue, where three -streams of ceaseless activity converge, there is always a whirlpool -rapids of traffic and humanity, and here, in a brilliant drug store, -Mary felt far enough from her own haunts and all who knew her and -Angela Ann to venture on her errand. - -"I want t' tillyphome," she whispered to the clerk, who pointed -impatiently to the booth. - -"I dunno how," said Mary imploringly. "I want ye t' do it fer me. R'ade -that." She thrust the dirty, crumpled fragment of the evening's yellow -journal into his hand. - -The young man glanced at it, and then curiously at her. "I've read it," -he said. - -"Down here, somewheers," said Mary, pointing vaguely towards the last -paragraph, "it till wheer she be, an' I want ye t' tillyphome that -place an' ask thim have she a laarge brown mole on her lift side. If -she have, I'm goin' out theer this night, fer 'tis my gyurl I t'ink she -be." - -This was not as startling an episode to the young man addressed as it -might have been to one in a quieter locality. Nevertheless, it smacked -of the dramatic sufficiently to interest him, and when Mary proffered -her nickel he called up the Dunning morgue. - -After what seemed an interminable wait, while the sleepy morgue -attendant at the county poor-house was being summoned by repeated -rings, and the brief colloquy was in progress, the clerk emerged from -the booth. - -"The girl has been identified this evening," he said. - -Disappointment mingled with relief in Mary's countenance: she had -reached that stage where it would have been not altogether unendurable -to look at Angela Ann's dead face, even in a morgue. - -As she retraced her way home, the chill of the sharp February night -struck into her mercilessly. When she set forth, she had scarcely -noticed in it her preoccupation; but now that another expectation, -however tragic, had proved false, and the situation stretched ahead -of her indefinitely dull and despairing again, the abrupt relaxation -left her physically as well as mentally "let down," and she shivered -violently as she hurried along. - -"Mother o' God," she cried, the tears rolling swiftly down her shrunken -cheeks, "wheer is my gyurl this noight? If I could on'y know she had a -roof over her head an' a fire t' kape her warrm!" - -Casey was still out when she got back, and she was thankful, for the -sight of her tears made him ugly these days. "She've disgraaced us," -he said of Angela Ann, "an' she be dead t' me, an' ought t' be t' you, -if ye had proper shame." - -Mary could give herself up to the luxury of grief, therefore, and -she did, until she fell asleep. The next morning she was up betimes, -meaning to go to early mass in the basement of the church before -"drissy folks" were abroad in their Sunday finery. For more than one -reason Mary avoided the later masses; her rags were small shame to her -compared with the more than half-suspicious inquiries of acquaintances -as to the whereabouts of Angela Ann. - -"'Tis more lies I'm after tellin'," thought poor Mary, "than th' praste -kin iver take aft o' me. 'N' ag'in' I do pinance enough t' kape me -busy half me time, an' go t' git me holy c'munion, I'm not out o' th' -prisence o' th' blissed Sacrament befoore I'm havin' t' lie ag'in t' -save that poor, silly gyurl's name!" - -This morning, however, in spite of her early rising and her efforts to -get to seven o'clock mass, events conspired to thwart her intentions. -Mollie woke up with a headache, and Johnnie had to be despatched on a -vinegar-borrowing expedition, so that the time-honored application of -brown paper soaked in vinegar might be made to the poor little head. -The baby cried lustily, with a colicky cry, and Mary had to hasten the -boiling of tea, that wee Annie might have a good, hot cup to soothe -her. Casey, complaining profanely of broken slumbers, was in no mood to -be left home with fretting children while Mary went to mass. - -It was nine o'clock before she could get away; the last mass in the -basement was at nine o'clock. But the Elevation of the Host had been -celebrated before she got there, and she turned disappointedly to -the stairs; she would have to wait for half-past nine mass in the -main church. It seemed as if Providence were balking her, but on the -stairway she learned the reason why. - -"Ye mus' be sure t' say a spicial prayer on this mass," said one woman -who passed her to another, "'tis the first mass this young praste have -iver said, an' a blissin' go wid it t' thim thot prays wid him." - -Saul on the Damascus road had no more overwhelming sense of arrest and -redirection than Mary Casey had, as, trembling with excitement, she -reached the top of the stairway. - -"Think o' that now," she told herself, "an' if I had come t' th' airly -mass I'd niver 'a' known it!" - -Hardly would her knees uphold her until she could sink into an obscure -pew, far back under the gallery. And there, at the tense moment when -the silver-toned bell proclaimed commemoration of the great lifting-up -in suffering, Mary raised her faith-full prayer: "A'mighty God, sind -me gyurl back t' me! But if it don' be in yer heart t' do thot mooch, -maake her a good gyurl wheeriver she be. Fer th' love av Christ, Amin." - -Not often in any lifetime, perhaps, does it come to pass that one prays -with such sublime assurance of crying straight into the listening -ear of Omnipotence that will inevitably keep faith with poor flesh. -For nigh on to forty years Mary Casey had listened to reiterations -of the old and new Covenants, but they had fallen on sterile ground -in her soul. It was the little chance remark about the new priest's -first mass, dropping into harrowed and watered soil, that flowered in -immediate faith. - - * * * * * - -The mass ended and the throngs of worshipers passed out, but Mary sat -unheeded and unheeding in her dim corner, her simple mind grappling -with the stupendous idea of its Covenant with Heaven. - -Before she had any realizing sense of time, the church had filled again -for high mass. Then the lighting of the great white altar fascinated -her, and she felt an intense desire to live again through such a moment -of assurance as she had lately experienced--to hear that bell ring -again, to smell the incense, and to believe that in some wonderful, -wonderful way it was all a part of that prayer of hers that Heaven was -bound to answer. - -So she stayed on, in her far-away pew, to the remotest corner of which -she was crowded as the enormous church filled to its capacity. With the -entrance of the preacher into the pulpit, though, she was conscious of -a distinct "let-down." She had never liked sermons; they dealt with -things so formally. Even when the priests made their greatest efforts -to be plain-spoken and understandable, she seldom got any personal help -from their discourse. They were prone to denunciations of adultery and -drunkenness and other sins of which she was innocent, and to vague -exhortations looking toward a hereafter on which her imagination had -never taken any but the feeblest hold. But what was this priest saying? -Something about a little household that the Lord had loved, and one of -its two sisters had gone astray! - -The woman sitting next to Mary nudged her other neighbor and glanced in -the direction of Mary's face, thrust forward as if so as not to lose a -syllable, the tears chasing each other unheeded down its furrows. In -her lap Mary's gnarled hands were clasped in painful intensity. - -Over and over, since she was a tiny child in Ireland, she had heard -this Catholic rendering, of Mary of Bethany's story, but it had never -meant anything to her. To-day it meant everything. - - [Illustration: "MARY SAT UNHEEDED AND UNHEEDING IN HER DIM CORNER, HER - MIND GRAPPLING WITH THE STUPENDOUS IDEA"] - -"An' I said I niver wanted t' see her ag'in if she'd disgraaced me," -she told herself, and was appalled at the remembrance. - -That afternoon, toward the early dusk, she sat in the dark kitchen -holding Annie in her lap; all the other children were out. Casey, -who had not left the house all day, was huddled up to the stove, -smoking his rank pipe; he was unshaven and unwashed, and wore a -coarse undershirt of a peculiar mustard color which lent his pallid, -grime-streaked face a ghastly hue. He had been talking about a "gran' -job" of which a man had told him, and building large castles about -moving to a better street and a better house and buying a "parlie suit -be aisy paymints." - -Mary listened believingly; twenty years of listening to these dreams -which never came true had not killed her hopefulness. As she listened, -though, her hopes outran Casey's, for she could conceive no possible -felicity without Angela Ann. How to introduce the now-forbidden subject -of Angela was a problem, but clearly the only way was to plunge in. - -"Yis," she assented, "I t'ink we should have a parlie. It have always -been my belafe thot if we'd had a parlie Ang'la wouldn't niver 'a' wint -away. Ag'in' she come home, I'm goin' t' kape th' parlie noice fer her -an' lave her have her beau ivry noight, an' no wan t' bother thim. An' -I ain't goin' t' lave her go downtown t' work no more--theer's too -manny bad min. She kin stay home an' moind th' house, an' I'll git -scrubbin' t' do t' th' Imporium. Wid what you earn an' what I earn, we -kin give her mebbe a dollar a wake fer spindin' money." - -Mary waxed excited as her dream unfolded, but Casey was ironical. - -"Whin d'ye _ixpict_ her?" he inquired, with pride in the sarcasm. - -"I dunno," said Mary, undaunted, "but I know she'll come. An' whin she -do, I'll not ask her anny quistions. I don' keer how she come t' me, so -she come. No matter what she've done, theer mus' be dipths she haven't -r'ached yit, an' all I ask now is t' save her from gittin' anny worse -than she be. D'ye know what I prayed t' th' Mother o God befoore I -lift th' church this mornin'? I prayed that our Ang'la Ann'd git in -trouble--in tur'ble trouble 'n' disgraace so thot thim thot's lid her -away'd t'row her out, 'n' no wan but God 'n' her mother'd take her in!" - -In speechless astonishment Casey gazed at the vehement woman before -him. Some instinct made him hold his peace while she told about the -priest's first mass, about the sermon, about the answer she confidently -expected to her prayer. While he listened, his easy Irish emotionalism -caught the contagion of her belief, and his tears flowed unchecked as -he alternately cursed the man that had led Angela away, and prophesied -glowingly of the "parlie" that was to be. - -It was pitchy dark in the kitchen now, and Mary got up to light the -lamp. As she did so, a sound at the door caused her nearly to drop the -lamp. Hurrying to the door, she threw it open, and with the light in -one hand peered out into the black yard. - -"Here, pussy, pussy," she called. Then, as her call was answered, "My -God! what did I tell ye? Tis the wan-eyed cat!" - - -III - -The next morning the postman brought a letter. Mary was not surprised -to get it. Casey had gone to look for the "gran' job," and the older -children were in school, so the letter could not be read, but she could -make out the signature, written in the large, unformed hand where-with -Angela had covered every available space in the days of her brief but -laborious apprenticeship to the art of writing. - -With trembling hand Mary tucked the letter in her bosom, hastily got -ready herself and Dewey and the baby, and started for Maggie's. Maggie -was younger and had enjoyed more educational advantages. She could -"r'ade printin'" easily, and "writin"' fairly well if it hadn't too -many flourishes. - -"She says," spelled out Mrs. O'Connor, "'Dear Ma, I'm at ---- West -Randolph Street I'm sick I'm afraid to go home count of Pa Your Loving -daughter Angela Ann Casey.' I'll go wid ye," finished Mrs. O'Connor in -the same breath. - -Out of her small store of tawdry finery she lent several articles -to make Mary "look more drissy," and while they got ready for their -momentous journey, Mary related the events of the day before, and of -Saturday night. - -"Me an' Tim," said Maggie, when the tale had reached the stage of the -"parlie" and Mary's earnings as a scrub-woman, "was figgerin' how we -could help out a bit, ag'in' she come home, an' Tim have promised t' -take me 'n' her to th' theayter quite frayquint of a Sat'day noight, -an' together we're goin' t' give her half a dollar ivry wake t' spind -on her clo'es." - -The number they sought on West Randolph Street was not far from the -fateful Haymarket Square. There was a store on the ground floor, with -living rooms behind. And above, a long flight of oilcloth-covered -stairs led to a "hotel." - -They inquired first in the store, but no one there had ever heard of -Angela Ann. Then, with fast-beating hearts, the women mounted to the -office of the hotel, an inside room facing the head of the first flight -of stairs. The door stood open, and they looked, before entering, into -a gas-lighted room furnished with yellow-painted wooden arm-chairs -ranged along the walls and flanked by a sparser row of cuspidors; a -big sheet-iron stove on a square zinc plateau filled the middle of -the room, and near the door, behind a small desk like a butcher-store -cashier's, sat the "clerk," chewing vigorously and expectorating -without accuracy. - -"Yes, she has a room here," he answered to Mary's question, "hall room, -rear, third floor." - -"In a minute!" called Angela Ann's voice when Mary had knocked. - -"My God, 'tis hersilf," sobbed Mary, and fell a-weeping violently. - -"Ma!" cried Angela Ann, and threw open the door. She had been in bed -when they knocked, and had not waited to put on her clothes when she -heard her mother's voice. At the touch of her, the clinging clasp of -her poor, thin, cold little arms, Mary grew hysterical. - -"Don't, Ma, don't," begged Angela. - -"She've grieved hersilf sick over ye," said Maggie, unable to forbear -this much of a reprimand now that the sinner was found. "Iver since ye -wint she've been loike wan crazy. Come, Mary; now ye've got her, brace -up!" - -"Sure, Ma," echoed the girl, "now ye've got me, brace up, I ain't never -goin' t' lave ye no more, Ma--honest t' God, I ain't." - -"Wheer ye been?" Mary raised her head, and drawing back from the girl -peered anxiously into her face. "In God's name, Ang'la Ann, wheer you -been? Tell me ye've kep' dacint, gyurl, tell me ye've kep' dacint!" - -Angela sat down on the dingy, disordered bed and began to cry, hiding -her face in her hands. For a long moment the silence, save for her soft -sobbing, was profound. Then a low moan escaped Mary, a moan of anguish -inexpressible, showing how deeply, notwithstanding her resolution of -yesterday, she had cherished the hope of her daughter's safety. - - [Illustration: IN GOD'S NAME, ANG'LA ANN, WHEER YOU BEEN?] - -Angela raised her head. The pain in her mother's moan was beyond -her comprehension, and she could only understand it as horror and -condemnation. - -"Are ye--are ye--goin' t' t'row me off?"' she asked. - -"T'row ye off? Ah, me gyurl, if ye'll on'y stick t' me as long as -I'll stick t' you, 'tis all I'll ask o' Hiven! Tis fer yer sake I was -prayin' no harm had come t' ye--not fer mine. Whativer happen t' ye, -ye're me Ang'la Ann thot I nursed from yer first brith. An' ye don' -know all I'm fixin' t' do fer ye--me an' yer pa an' yer Aunt Maggie, -here, and yer Uncle Tim----" - -And there followed a glowing account of the feast prepared for the -prodigal's return. - -"Th' idare o' you bein' afraid o' yer pa," chided Mary, "an' him fixin' -t' git a stiddy job an' not have ye go downtown no more." - -Far shrewder than her mother, Angela Ann did not overestimate -this excellent intention of her pa's, but she said nothing of the -bitterness that was in her heart on account of his past crimes. It was -a long-standing grievance with her that her mother could never, for -more than a fleeting, irritated moment at a time, be made to see Casey -as others saw him. Angela Ann had been working for him since she was -eleven (child-labor laws were lax, then) and giving up her every penny -to pay rent and buy insufficient mites of coal and food--just enough to -keep them alive and no more--and it was starvation of many sorts that -sent her at last into the clutches of them that prey. The girl was full -of self-pity, and impatient with her mother because the older woman had -forgotten how to rebel. - -"Yer pa say, though," added Mary, "thot he won't promise not i' kill -the felly thot lid ye away; he've got tur'ble wingeance on him--yer pa -have." - -Angela Ann smiled grimly. "I guess theer's quite a few pa's lookin' fer -him," she said, "but they don't ever seem t' find him." - -"Did he prom'se t' marry ye?" asked Mary anxiously. - -"I should say not! He promised to make me a primmy donny." - -"What's that?" fearfully. - -"'Tis a kind of actress that wear tights an' sings," explained Angela. -"I'm after r'adin' in books how gran' they be, an' in the papers -it tell how the swell fellies do be runnin' after thim with diming -necklusses, an' marryin' of 'em. 'Tis all a lie!" she cried shrilly. - -"Ye see," Mary could not refrain from reminding her. "I tol' ye thim -theayters was all wrong. We kind o' t'ought it might be thim thot got -ye, an' yer pa wint t' see this here Halberg, whin we foun' the caard -out o' yer pocke'-book. But he said he niver hear tell o' ye." - -"Did pa go there?" questioned Angela eagerly. She was all interest to -know how the search for her had been carried on, and "did th' p'lice -know?" and "how did ye kape it out o' th' papers?" - -Yes, it had been Halberg "all the time," she admitted. She had answered -his advertisement, and after a week's drill he had sent her, true to -his published word, in a "road company" that mitigated the gloom of -coal miners' lives by singing and dancing--and carousing--in a circuit -of saloons in the soft coal regions of Illinois. When she fell sick, -the company abandoned her without the formality of paying her any -salary, and a foul-tongued, soft-hearted landlady, whose own young -daughter was God knew where, had let Angela stay in her wretched hotel -until she was able by dishwashing and lampfilling chores to earn the -few dollars to take her back to Chicago. - -"But I couldn' get no stren'th back," the girl went on, "an' that woman -at th' hotel, Mis' Schlogel, she sez t' me, 'You better go home t' yer -ma, that's wheer you better go,' an' she bundled me off Friday mornin'. -But I was scairt t' go home right t' wunst till I seen how youse was -goin' t' be t' me, so I come here wheer I stayed whin I was studyin' -wid O. Halberg, an' Friday night I got awful sick an' laid here all -night awake an' burnin' up an' my head achin' t' beat th' band. An' all -day Sat'day an' Sunday I wasn't able to go out fer nothin' t' eat, an' -th' propri'ter wouldn't order me nothin' sent in fer fear I wouldn't be -able t' pay. A woman in the nex' room light-house-keeps, an' she made -me tea a couple o' times after she heard I was sick an' alone." - -"Why in Hivin's name," Maggie broke in, "did ye niver drap yer ma a -line t' say ye were aloive? Ye needn't 'a' tol' wheer ye was, but ye -could 'a' said ye were in the land o' th' livin', surely?" - -"I was 'shamed," whimpered Angela; "I fought ye wouldn't keer wheer I -was if I wasn't doin' dacint." - -"Think o' that, now!" cried Mary. "That's all a gyurl do know about -her ma. Whin yer a ma yersilf ye'll know better, an' not till thin, I -suppose." - -Thus was Angela Ann made sure of her welcome home. - -"An' not wan but yer own kin know ye've been missin'" said Mary, as she -helped the girl to get ready for the return, "so ye kin hol' up yer hid -an' look th' world in th' faace. An' may God fergive yer mother the -loies she've tol' t' save yer name!" - - - - - [Illustration] - -BORDEN - -BY GEORGE C. SHEDD - -ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER BIGGS - -One rainy afternoon I was sitting with my friend Carter, in his log -house. Through the open door we could see the road, all cut up by -wagon-tracks, running with water; lumps of mud thrust their black heads -up in it everywhere; the bordering grass was wet and heavy. And down by -the creek the fringe of trees made only a gray blur. - -We had talked ourselves pretty near out when a rider splashed up to -the door. His ragged beard stuck out stiff, full of rain-drops, and -his slouch hat had an unpleasant tilt forward. To Carter's invitation -to enter he shook his head, asked if such-and-such a person had passed -within the hour, and, receiving an affirmative reply, pulled his hat -down tighter and galloped away west. "Who is that?" I inquired. - -"That! Why, that's Borden. It's easy to see you're new out here. His -hand holds the river from Saint Joe to Omaha, and men think twice -before trying to break his grip." He drew out his pipe and tobacco, -stuffed the bowl thoughtfully, and struck a match. "If you want to hear -about the first time I saw him at work, I'll tell you." - -I nodded. - -"Eh? Well, this was the way of it": - - * * * * * - -At the end of the war I settled here--that was five years ago. Borden -lived a mile up the creek, and so, as times went, we were neighbors. -By the people yonder in Kinton he was not liked, being grim, rough, -savage, altogether unsociable and short of word. Besides, they -remembered '57. In that year he appeared from no one knew where, took -his claim, and proceeded to live after his own fashion. Then the -high-handed Claim Club of the village went about it to drive him "in or -over the river"--a bad night for them. They rode back to Kinton with -three dead men laid across saddles. That was in the rough days of the -Territory, the days when men in the Nebraska hills along the Missouri -were a law unto themselves. - - [Illustration: "THEY CROWDED HIS HORSE UNTIL IT HUNG BACK FROM THE - OTHERS"] - -Once he tied up on his own deck a steamboat captain who was drunk -and bent on murder; single-handed he ran down two horse-thieves; and -another time he choked the money out of a river-gambler who had robbed -a boy. Oh, they knew Borden up and down the river in those days! Then -he went to war as one of Thayer's sharpshooters, returning at the end -of it to be appointed United States marshal. And he had been riding -that saddle six months when I came. - -One day he and another pulled rein at my door. - -"Come with me," he said abruptly. "I want you to look after this -fellow--you're my deputy till further notice." He did not waste time -over oaths or official nonsense. - -"Now, see here--" the man started to say. But Borden cut him off with a -scowl. - -"Who is he?" I asked. - -"Him?--Fitch. You've heard of him, I guess." - -Heard of him, of course, as everyone had; of his sly, petty legal -tricks by which he grabbed land here and land there until his titles -spotted the country about Nebraska City; of his rent-squeezing that -smelled over the whole town; of these, and other things. He was a lean, -dark, uneasy fellow, wearing a rumpled tile and a shiny coat, riding -all crouched up, and pulling his horse away from everybody we met. - -After we started, Borden told me that Fitch had brought him notice to -serve on Dempster--old John Dempster, his friend. Now, that made a bad -job for the Marshal. I saw it from the way he answered not a word to -Fitch, who now and then pressed up--intent on the business--to make him -talk. Once Borden pulled out his heavy wrinkled boot from the stirrup -and kicked the other's horse in the belly until it reared on its -haunches. For Borden was the law's officer, but no man's servant. - -Our way ran three miles up from Kinton. There was no road, and we -followed along the edge of the bluffs as best we were able, until -finally we dipped down into a ravine and so came to our destination. It -was a wooded flat on the bank of the river, made by a sudden retreat -of the hills--a sort of pocket. The space was not large, a handful of -acres, and it looked smaller than it really was. The bluffs curved -around it on three sides in a yellow, crumbling wall; on the fourth -flowed the muddy waters of the Missouri. The house was in the center -of a small clearing, and when we came in sight of it Fitch pulled up -behind a small thicket of scrub. Borden, as if he never saw the fellow -halt, rode straight up to the door where John Dempster sat shaping an -axe-haft. - -"Jack," said Borden, swinging down from his saddle, "I've come to have -a talk with you." - -Dempster shaved the haft a minute, laid it aside, and gazed off toward -the clump of scrub. The two men were something alike, though the man -seated on the door-sill was the older, both past the prime, both spare -of words, both come to the West in the same year. They had lain side by -side behind a sleety log before Fort Donelson, and each in his three -years of service had felt the touch of hot lead. - -"How d'you come--friend or enemy?" - -"The first, and always, I hope. It depends on you. Why did you kick him -off of here yesterday, Jack? He's full of poison over it." - -"Let him keep off then," was the gruff response. - -Both looked again at the clump where Fitch could be seen through the -thin screen of bushes. After a while Dempster took out his tobacco, cut -off a piece, and passed the rest to us. - -"You're in a dirty way of business when you're mixed up with him," he -said slowly. "An' I 'spose you've come to run me out." - -"What's at the bottom of this trouble?" returned Borden, evading the -point. "'Tain't the land--what is it he's after?" - -Dempster spat. "He's gettin' even. I knocked him down last spring when -I was at Nebraska City, for lyin' about--never mind. That's all. So he -sneaked around an' hunted out where I live an' filed on the land." A -dull fire lighted up under his bushy eyebrows. - -"Why didn't you file long ago?" - -"Does the gover'ment take away a man's home when he's fought in the -war?" - -"You know how I feel about it," replied Borden, and he laid his hand on -the other's shoulder. "But it's too late for you to try to keep it now. -You'd better look up another place." - -"No, I'm goin' to stay here, I guess, or nowhere." - -Borden knew that the decision was inflexible. As he rose, put his foot -in the stirrup, and raised himself into the saddle, he determined, -however, to have another try. - -"Come and settle up along the creek by me. There's an open claim just -beyond mine, better than this piece." - - [Illustration: "'YOU GOT THE BEST O' ME, DICK; I'LL GO'"] - -Dempster shook his head; maybe he was thinking of the clearing back in -Indiana and the boughs under which he had drawn his first breath, -maybe this poor fringe of woods along the river was dearer to him than -all the treeless prairie. - -"We've lived here near ten years now," he said at last, "the old woman -an' Joe--an' me, 'ceptin' when I was at war. I guess if we go, you'll -have to use your gun." - -"I'm sorry, Jack, but you've got to go. And I give you a week. It's not -me that says so, it's the law." - -"Law!" answered Dempster, with sudden rising fierceness. "Does the law -drive a man off his own?" - -It was the law, not justice, that was driving him. Without replying a -word, Borden, and I by his side, rode away. When we reached the lean, -eager face behind the scrub, the Marshal broke out, "You vulture, keep -behind us! If you try to ride even, I'll sink your carcass in the -river." And in that order, with him trailing us, we came back to Kinton. - -Well, during the next week the more I turned the thing over on my -tongue the less I liked the taste of it, but Borden was not one to -consider dislikes--neither another man's nor his own--when he was -riding the law's saddle. So I resolved to go through with it, and was -ready Thursday morning. He came out from Nebraska City, accompanied -by six deputies, men he had tried, who would not back off from the -mouth of a gun, for he knew the door he must enter that day. Fitch was -among them; oh, he was yellow over it! Borden had dragged him along to -the whole end of the dirty business. The tale, too, was out among the -deputies, and Fitch saw plainly what rope they would have swung him -by. Grim looks were his every mile; when he pushed up among them, they -crowded his horse to the withers until it hung back from the others; -one cursed him fully and foully. They intended that he should earn that -bit of ground before the day was done. - -In the ravine at the edge of the flat we tied our horses. The men -unslung their rifles, hitched their revolvers about, and waited, while -Borden went down the hollow to reconnoiter. Perhaps half an hour had -passed when he climbed down the bank above our heads and dropped into -our midst. - -"Quick! The boy's gone for water to the spring. Straight ahead there. -No shooting till I give the word." - -The men nodded, we filed down the ravine single-file, and the next -minute were advancing noiselessly through the trees, spreading out -gradually as we crossed the flat toward the clearing where stood the -log house. The deputies went ahead, alert, silent, with an eye on -Borden, who walked a little before them, each keeping a tree in line -with the door. - -Perhaps things were no different that morning than they were at any -time; yet the little flat seemed possessed of a very great quiet, -broken only by the slight swish of our boots through the dry grass. -As we neared the cabin, we saw that its windows and door were shut. -Fitch, who clung to me as though he found more comfort in my company, -occasionally wiped drops of sweat from his yellow forehead, and removed -his high hat to let the wind blow through his hair. - -The other men went ahead unconcerned enough. One big fellow dropped -his gun into the crook of his arm, pulled out a piece of tobacco, and -carefully picked the lint off it. When he had had a bite, he tossed it -to a comrade, who caught it handily, buried it for a moment under his -mustache, and then held up the remnant to the other's sight, grinning. -He tossed it back; neither had lost his place in the advancing line. - -Fifty yards from the house Borden signaled a halt. Rifle-butts slipped -to the ground, and the men leaned with backs against their trees--all -except two, who handed their guns to others and veered off towards -the bluffs, the direction Borden indicated, to the spring. A brown, -grizzled fellow, sheltered behind an elm a few feet from me, turned -his attention to Fitch, whom he examined curiously and at leisure, -concluding his inspection by spitting his way. Then his look strayed -south. After a little he began to sing softly: - - The flat-boats 'r in an' the bull-boats 'r a-stoppin' - An' licker runnin' free,--oh, hell is a-poppin'! - Down on the river, down on---- - -He broke off suddenly, turning his head a little way towards where the -two men had entered the bushes, listening. Directly he finished the -lines: - - Down on the river, down on the river, - Down on the Misser-ee when the boats come in. - -The man must have had ears like an Indian's. He folded his arms across -the muzzle of his rifle and began watching the bushes that fringed the -base of the hill; the other men also were looking that way. A minute -passed. All at once a young fellow slipped out from nowhere, running -and carrying a full bucket. He was bare-headed, his sleeves rolled -to the elbows. He ran a few steps toward the house, quickly slanted -off, and kept going, while turning his head this way and that. I saw -the cause of his sudden change in direction, for there was one of the -deputies running parallel with him, but between him and the door. The -second came in sight a minute later, farther down, and from behind a -thicket, abreast of the other two. They had the young fellow between -them. - -The rest of us were strung about before the house in a half-circle, the -three runners being on the outside of the circle. Everything was quiet, -for Borden's hounds don't hunt with their mouths open. Young Dempster -carried his bucket of water with scarcely a slop or a splash; the inner -deputy gradually moved out and behind him. Two men at the tail of the -line fell away from their trees to meet him--and there he was in a -ring. The man nearest me, still leaning on his rifle, gave a cluck of -his tongue as if it were all over. But it was not. A shot cracked from -the door, and the deputy who was on the outside flipped his hand in -the air as if he had been stung. His fingers were all bloody. That was -a pretty shot, I tell you; old Jack Dempster ticked the button on his -son's shirt to make it, for the men were running breast and breast from -the door. - -The boy saw the trap he was in. Just as he came even with me, he -whirled and took his chance through the line. It was quick--oh, -quick as a cat! Three of us met him. But he was in moccasins and -light-footed, jumping this way and that, and though my neighbor flung -his rifle between his legs, he skipped it and was nearly through. He -sprang to one side, leaped at Fitch--the water was splashing now--and -swerved past him. Maybe it was the nasty look on his face that made -Fitch shoot, anyway the fellow fired his revolver. It did not seem as -if he could miss; Joe ran straight for the cabin. Half way there the -bucket slipped from his hand; then he began to stagger a little. Near -the door he went to his knees and, with a look over his shoulder at us -while fumbling for his revolver, crawled behind the chopping-log. - -"I got him before he got me," said Fitch, fairly green about the mouth, -"He was going to kill me." - -Borden took a step toward him, paused for the time of a single breath, -whirled around, and was behind his tree. As for the other men, I never -want to see such faces as they wore. - -After that it seemed to me as if our business had come to a standstill. -It was little shelter we had, just a tree apiece. We might as well have -been tied to them with cords, for the old man was watching from his -lair, and that with his boy's blood red in his eyes, ready to catch us -either advancing or retiring. Nor was the young fellow so badly hurt -but what he could pull a trigger. And Borden never retired that I ever -heard of--that wasn't his way. Any instant I expected to hear a bullet -snip the bark on my tree. I never felt so big before or since, big as -a hill, and I drew myself together mighty small, I can tell you. - -While I was wondering what would come next, Borden stepped out into -the open. He walked toward the door, calm and steady, and without -particular haste, his revolver in its holster. It all happened so -quickly it took me by surprise; the Dempsters, man and boy, must have -been struck by it, for not a shot was fired. But to advance that way, -to clasp hands with death! Maybe you've heard soldiers tell about -charging in the face of cannon, how they felt--I know I felt worse just -to see him go straight toward the house. I got dizzy, dizzy sick. Then -it had all fallen so still, the little wind in the trees and the leaves -stirring over the ground. I looked at the other men, thinking they -could somehow change it; the grizzled old chap was chewing his tobacco -as fast as he could, and the man with the bloody fingers had finished -tying them up in his handkerchief. First thing I knew I was half out -from behind my tree, watching him. - -"Keep back, Dick Borden," warned the man in the house--I swear his -voice shook as he said it--"keep back, or, by God, I'll shoot!" - -"I'm coming into that door, Jack Dempster," was Borden's reply. - -He never flinched, never stopped. Then the rifle sounded, and, like an -echo, the boy's revolver echoed it. Borden was hit--how could they fail -at that distance and such a mark? But he managed to win the log where -young Dempster lay. He stood there an instant, then slowly sat down -upon it. A second time the young fellow lifted his weapon, and every -man of us could see the Marshal looking into the muzzle. Orders or no -orders, that was too much for even the deputies; the click of their -rifle hammers ran along the trees. Borden heard it. - -"Don't shoot, men!" - -His voice was not loud, but harsh, and keyed high, as if his throat was -dry. I think the next sound was a groan from the boy, and his revolver -wavered and slipped in his fingers. - -"It's the gun you gave me," he said, "an' I can't kill you with it." - -Borden turned his head painfully from side to side, saw a stick, bent -down laboriously, got it at last, and by its aid raised himself to -his feet. That seemed to exhaust him. He stood for a moment, inert -and useless, like an old man. Then he began to hoist himself forward -step by step to the door. Iron will, just iron, it was. And it was -terrible to see him--one shoulder and arm swinging low and limp, his -knees lifting high as if knotted with stiffness, his head protruding in -intense effort. The distance was short, but long, long for him. - -"Keep back! keep back!" cried Dempster. He himself was half out of the -door, gripping his gun with one hand, warding the relentless Marshal -off with the other. - -Borden answered nothing, another step. - -"You've got to stop!" begged Dempster. "Don't make me kill you, an' -I can't let you in. Go back, go back! We fought together, we marched -together, we ate and slept together, Dick--for God's sake, don't come -nearer!" - -One step at a time, putting his stick forward bit by bit and dragging -himself to it with his queer uplifting knees, Borden moved himself -ahead. There was something stern and inhuman in this persistence. So it -went to the last bitter inch. Then Borden's breast touched the rifle's -muzzle. The two men stood looking into each other's eyes, measuring -life and death. - -That is a minute in my mind forever. The young fellow had dragged -himself a little way from behind his log--half-following, fascinated, -supporting himself by his two hands--and was staring at them. The empty -bucket lay on its side in the sunshine. The wind whined and whined -through the trees. And the wife's haggard face peered over Dempster's -shoulder in the door. - -"I arrest you!" - -The stick dropped from his fingers, he clutched at the man's sleeve and -fell across the door-sill. All I remember is that we were all crowding -about the door, with the boy cursing from the ground behind us for -someone to help him. Even Fitch had come, twisting and pushing among -the rest. - -Borden was white and still, but he came around directly and stared at -us a little. We laid him on a blanket outside the door, along with -Joe, who carried his lead just below the knee. The Marshal was pretty -bad, having a bullet through his collar-bone and another through his -side, this one a big ugly hole. There were plenty of us to help, some -to cut and to strip their clothes, some to fetch water, some to wash -the wounds, some to tear bandages. One had already started south for a -doctor. Dempster was on his knees by his old comrade. - -"You got the best o' me, Dick; I'll go." - -Borden smiled a little. It was good to look at their two faces then. - -Fitch, who was rubbing his hands evilly, put in, "Yes, you get off here -within an hour. And I'll have the law on you, too, for the kicking you -gave me." - -One of the men struck him across the mouth. - -"Tie him," said Borden, "and hang him." - -Well, there was a noisy to-do, the fellow screeching that it was -against the law, that he shot the boy for trying to kill him, that it -was on his own land, and the like. He kept it up until his screech fell -into a quaver, and terror came into his eyes. Borden smiled again at -sight of him, this time with lips that made a straight white line. - -"The law!" he said, at last. "I am the law." - -He let the matter go as far as the rope around the wretch's neck; then -it seemed as if Fitch was dead already. No, Borden didn't hang him; -he had another idea, the claim. He waited until Fitch had his senses -once more and told him he would be taken to Nebraska City and tried for -attempted murder. Fitch began to beg, while Borden listened with grim -satisfaction. He would let the claim go, he would start down the river, -quit the country. The rope was thrown off and Borden ordered him away; -and with a sudden fierce oath that made him gasp from pain, Borden -swore he would shoot him with his own hand if he caught sight of him -again. - -Fitch knew that Borden meant what he said, and he wasn't seen again in -Nebraska. Six months or so fetched Borden round, and let him into the -saddle again. It must be lead in the heart or brain to kill men of his -fiber--and Dempster had been shaky with his gun. Things got a little -loose while the Marshal was on his back up there in the cabin, but he -tightened them up again soon. We'll ride up there some day and see the -spot. Yes, the Dempsters have the title to the place now. - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - [Illustration] - -THE GLOUCESTER MOTHER - -BY SARAH ORNE JEWETT - -DECORATION BY WLADYSLAW T. BENDA - - [Illustration] - - When Autumn winds are high - They wake and trouble me, - With thoughts of people lost - A-coming on the coast, - And all the ships at sea. - - How dark, how dark and cold. - And fearful in the waves, - Are tired folk who lie not still - And quiet in their graves;-- - In moving waters deep, - That will not let men sleep - As they may sleep on any hill; - May sleep ashore till time is old, - And all the earth is frosty cold.-- - Under the flowers a thousand springs - They sleep and dream of many things. - - God bless them all who die at sea! - If they must sleep in restless waves, - God make them dream they are ashore, - With grass above their graves. - - - - -ALCOHOL AND THE INDIVIDUAL - -BY HENRY SMITH WILLIAMS, M.D., LL.D. - - -Some very puzzling differences of opinion about the use of alcoholic -beverages find expression. This is natural enough, since alcohol is a -very curious drug, and the human organism a very complex mechanism. The -effects of this drug upon this mechanism are often very mystifying. Not -many persons are competent to analyze these effects in their totality. -Still fewer can examine any of them quite without prejudice. But in -recent years a large number of scientific investigators have attempted -to substitute knowledge for guesswork as to the effects of alcohol, -through the institution of definitive experiments. Some have tested its -effects on the digestive apparatus; others, its power over the heart -and voluntary muscles; still others, its influence upon the brain. On -the whole, the results of these experiments are singularly consistent. -Undoubtedly they tend to upset a good many time-honored preconceptions. -But they give better grounds for judgment as to what is the rational -attitude toward alcohol than have hitherto been available. - -The traditional rôle of alcohol is that of a stimulant. It has been -supposed to stimulate digestion and assimilation; to stimulate the -heart's action; to stimulate muscular activity and strength; to -stimulate the mind. The new evidence seems to show that, in the final -analysis, alcohol stimulates none of these activities; that its final -effect is everywhere depressive and inhibitory (at any rate, as regards -higher functions) rather than stimulative; that, in short, it is -properly to be classed with the anesthetics and narcotics. The grounds -for this view should be of interest to every user of alcohol; of -interest, for that matter, to every citizen, considering that more than -one thousand million gallons of alcoholic beverages are consumed in the -United States each year. - -I should like to present the new evidence far more fully than space -will permit. I shall attempt, however, to describe some of the more -significant observations and experiments in sufficient detail to enable -the reader to draw his own conclusions. To make room for this, I must -deal with other portions of the testimony in a very summary manner. -As regards digestion, for example, I must be content to note that -the experiments show that alcohol does indeed stimulate the flow of -digestive fluids, but that it also tends to interfere with their normal -action; so that ordinarily one effect neutralizes the other. As regards -the action on the heart, I shall merely state that the ultimate effect -of alcohol is to depress, in large doses to paralyze, that organ. -These, after all, are matters that concern the physician rather than -the general reader. - -The effect of alcohol on muscular activity has a larger measure of -popular interest; indeed, it is a question of the utmost practicality. -The experiments show that alcohol does not increase the capacity to do -muscular work, but distinctly decreases it. Doubtless this seems at -variance with many a man's observation of himself; but the explanation -is found in the fact that alcohol blurs the judgment. As Voit remarks, -it gives, not strength, but, at most, the feeling of strength. A man -may think he is working faster and better under the influence of -alcohol than he would otherwise do; but rigidly conducted experiments -do not confirm this opinion. "Both science and the experience of life," -says Dr. John J. Abel, of Johns Hopkins University, "have exploded -the pernicious theory that alcohol gives any persistent increase of -muscular power. The disappearance of this universal error will greatly -reduce the consumption of alcohol among laboring men. It is well -understood by all who control large bodies of men engaged in physical -labor, that alcohol and effective work are incompatible." - -It is even questionable whether the energy derived from the oxidation -of alcohol in the body can be directly used at all as a source of -muscular energy. Such competent observers as Schumberg and Scheffer -independently reached the conclusion that it cannot. Dr. Abel inclines -to the same opinion. He suggests that "alcohol is not a food in the -sense in which fats and carbohydrates are food; it should be defined -as an easily oxidizable drug with numerous untoward effects which -inevitably appear when a certain minimum dose is exceeded," He thinks -that alcohol should be classed "with the more or less dangerous -stimulants and narcotics, such as hasheesh, tobacco, etc., rather -than with truly sustaining foodstuffs," Some of the grounds for this -view will appear presently, as we now turn to examine the alleged -stimulating effects of alcohol upon the mental processes. - - -_Alcohol as a Brain Stimulant_ - -The celebrated physicist Von Helmholtz, one of the foremost thinkers -of the nineteenth century, declared that the very smallest quantity -of alcohol served effectively, while its influence lasted, to banish -from his mind all possibility of creative effort; all capacity to -solve an abstruse problem. The result of recent experiments in the -field of physiological psychology convince one that the same thing is -true in some measure of every other mind capable of creative thinking. -Certainly all the evidence goes to show that no mind is capable of -its best efforts when influenced by even small quantities of alcohol. -If any reader of these words is disposed to challenge this statement, -on the strength of his own personal experience, I would ask him to -reflect carefully as to whether what he has been disposed to regard as -a stimulant effect may not be better explained along lines suggested -by these words of Professor James: "The reason for craving alcohol is -that it is an anesthetic even in moderate quantities. It obliterates a -part of the field of consciousness and abolishes collateral trains of -thought." - -The experimental evidence that tends to establish the position of -alcohol as an inhibitor and disturber rather than a promoter of mental -activity has been gathered largely by German investigators. Many of -their experiments are of a rather technical character, aiming to test -the basal operations of the mind. Others, however, are eminently -practical, as we shall see. The earliest experiments, made by Exner in -Vienna so long ago as 1873, aimed to determine the effect of alcohol -upon the so-called reaction-time. The subject of the experiment sits at -a table, with his finger upon a telegraph key. At a given signal--say -a flash of light--he releases the key. The time that elapses between -signal and response--measured electrically in fractions of a second--is -called the simple or direct reaction-time. This varies for different -individuals, but is relatively constant, under given conditions, for -the same individual. Exner found, however, that when an individual had -imbibed a small quantity of alcohol, his reaction-time was lengthened, -though the subject believed himself to be responding more promptly -than before. - -These highly suggestive experiments attracted no very great amount of -attention at the time. Some years later, however, they were repeated by -several investigators, including Dietl, Vintschgau, and in particular -Kraepelin and his pupils. It was then discovered that, in the case -of a robust young man, if the quantity of alcohol ingested was very -small, and the tests were made immediately, the direct reaction-time -was not lengthened, but appreciably shortened instead. If, however, the -quantity of alcohol was increased, or if the experiments were made at -a considerable interval of time after its ingestion, the reaction-time -fell below the normal, as in Exner's experiments. - -Subsequent experiments tested mental processes of a somewhat more -complicated character. For example, the subject would place, each -hand on a telegraph key, at right and left. The signals would then -be varied, it being understood that one key or the other would be -pressed promptly accordingly as a red or a white light, appeared. It -became necessary, therefore, to recognize the color of the light, -and to recall which hand was to be moved at that particular, signal: -in other words, to make a choice not unlike that which a locomotive -engineer is required to make when he encounters an unexpected signal -light. The tests showed that after the ingestion of a small quantity -of alcohol--say a glass of beer--there was a marked disturbance of -the mental processes involved in this reaction. On the average, the -keys were released more rapidly than before the alcohol was taken, -but the wrong key was much more frequently released than under normal -circumstances. Speed was attained at the cost of correct judgment. -Thus, as Dr. Stier remarks, the experiment shows the elements of two -of the most significant and persistent effects of alcohol, namely, the -vitiating of mental processes and the increased tendency to hasty or -incoördinate movements. Stated otherwise, a levelling down process is -involved, whereby the higher function is dulled, the lower function -accentuated. - -Equally suggestive are the results of some experiments devised by Ach -and Maljarewski to test the effects of alcohol upon the perception and -comprehension of printed symbols. The subject was required to read -aloud a continuous series of letters or meaningless syllables or short -words, as viewed through a small slit in a revolving cylinder. It was -found that after taking a small quantity of alcohol, the subject was -noticeably less able to read correctly. His capacity to repeat, after -a short interval, a number of letters correctly read, was also much -impaired. He made more omissions than before, and tended to substitute -words and syllables for those actually seen. It is especially -noteworthy that the largest number of mistakes were made in the reading -of meaningless syllables,--that is to say, in the part of the task -calling for the highest or most complicated type of mental activity. - -Another striking illustration of the tendency of alcohol to impair the -higher mental processes was given by some experiments instituted by -Kraepelin to test the association of ideas, In these experiments, a -word is pronounced, and the subject is required to pronounce the first -word that suggests itself in response. Some very interesting secrets -of the subconscious personality are revealed thereby, as was shown, -for example, in a series of experiments conducted last year at Zürich -by Dr. Frederick Peterson of New York. But I cannot dwell on these -here. Suffice it for our purpose that the possible responses are of -two general types. The suggested word being, let us say, "book," the -subject may (1) think of some word associated logically with the idea -of a book, such as "read" or "leaves"; or he may (2) think of some -word associated merely through similarity of sound, such as "cook" or -"shook." In a large series of tests, any given individual tends to show -a tolerably uniform proportion between the two types of association; -and this ratio is in a sense explicative of his type of mind. Generally -speaking, the higher the intelligence, the higher will be the ratio of -logical to merely rhymed associations. Moreover, the same individual -will exhibit more associations of the logical type when his mind is -fresh than when it is exhausted, as after a hard day's work. - -In Kraepelin's experiments it appeared that even the smallest quantity -of alcohol had virtually the effect of fatiguing the mind of the -subject, so that the number of his rhymed responses rose far above the -normal. That is to say, the lower form of association of ideas was -accentuated, at the expense of the higher. In effect, the particular -mind experimented upon was always brought for the time being to a lower -level by the alcohol. - - -_The Effect of a Bottle of Wine a Day_ - -When a single dose of alcohol is administered, its effects gradually -disappear, as a matter of course. But they are far more persistent than -might be supposed. Some experiments conducted by Fürer are illuminative -as to this. He tested a person for several days, at a given hour, as to -reaction-time, the association of ideas, the capacity to memorize, and -facility in adding. The subject was then allowed to drink two litres of -beer in the course of a day. No intoxicating effects whatever were to -be discovered by ordinary methods. The psychological tests, however, -showed marked disturbance of all the reactions, a diminished capacity -to memorize, decreased facility in adding, etc., not merely on the day -when the alcohol was taken, but on succeeding days as well. Not until -the third day was there a gradual restoration to complete normality; -although the subject himself--and this should be particularly -noted--felt absolutely fresh and free from after-effects of alcohol on -the day following that on which the beer was taken. - -Similarly Rüdin found the effects of a single dose of alcohol to -persist, as regards some forms of mental disturbance, for twelve hours, -for other forms twenty-four hours, and for yet others thirty-six hours -and more. But Rüdin's experiments bring out another aspect of the -subject, which no one who considers the alcohol question in any of -its phases should overlook: the fact, namely, that individuals differ -greatly in their response to a given quantity of the drug. Thus, -of four healthy young students who formed the subjects of Rüdin's -experiment, two showed very marked disturbance of the mental functions -for more than forty-eight hours, whereas the third was influenced for a -shorter time, and the fourth was scarcely affected at all. The student -who was least affected was not, as might be supposed, one who had been -accustomed to take alcoholics habitually, but, on the contrary, one who -for six years had been a total abstainer. - -Noting thus that the effects of a single dose of alcohol may persist -for two or three days, one is led to inquire what the result will -be if the dose is repeated day after day. Will there then be a -cumulative effect, or will the system become tolerant of the drug -and hence unresponsive? Some experiments of Smith, and others of -Kürz and Kraepelin have been directed toward the solution of this -all-important question. The results of the experiments show a piling -up of the disturbing effects of the alcohol. Kürz and Kraepelin -estimate that after giving eighty grams per day to an individual for -twelve successive days, the working capacity of that individual's mind -was lessened by from twenty-five to forty per cent. Smith found an -impairment of the power to add, after twelve days, amounting to forty -per cent.; the power to memorize was reduced by about seventy per cent. - -Forty to eighty grams of alcohol, the amounts used in producing these -astounding results, is no more than the quantity contained in one to -two litres of beer or in a half-bottle to a bottle of ordinary wine. -Professor Aschaffenburg, commenting on these experiments, points the -obvious moral that the so-called moderate drinker, who consumes his -bottle of wine as a matter of course each day with his dinner--and -who doubtless would declare that he is never under the influence of -liquor--is in reality never actually sober from one week's end to -another. Neither in bodily nor in mental activity is he ever up to what -should be his normal level. - -That this fair inference from laboratory experiments may be -demonstrated in a thoroughly practical field, has been shown by -Professor Aschaffenburg himself, through a series of tests made on -four professional typesetters. The tests were made with all the rigor -of the psychological laboratory (the experimenter is a former pupil -of Kraepelin), but they were conducted in a printing office, where -the subjects worked at their ordinary desks, and in precisely the -ordinary way, except that the copy from which the type was set was -always printed, to secure perfect uniformity. The author summarizes the -results of the experiment as follows: - - -_A Loss of Ten Per Cent. in Working Efficiency_ - -"The experiment extended over four days. The first and third days were -observed as normal days, no alcohol being given. On the second and -fourth days each worker received thirty-five grams (a little more than -one ounce) of alcohol, in the form of Greek wine. A comparison of the -results of work on normal and on alcoholic days showed, in the case -of one of the workers, no difference. But the remaining three showed -greater or less retardation of work, amounting in the most pronounced -case to almost fourteen per cent. As typesetting is paid for by -measure, such a worker would actually earn ten per cent. less on days -when he consumed even this small quantity of alcohol." - -In the light of such observations, a glass of beer or even the cheapest -bottle of wine is seen to be an expensive luxury. To forfeit ten per -cent. of one's working efficiency is no trifling matter in these days -of strenuous competition. Perhaps it should be noted that the subjects -of the experiment were all men habituated to the use of liquor, one -of them being accustomed to take four glasses of beer each week day, -and eight or ten on Sundays. This heaviest drinker was the one whose -work was most influenced in the experiment just related. The one whose -work was least influenced was the only one of the four who did not -habitually drink beer every day; and he drank regularly on Sundays. It -goes without saying that all abstained from beer during the experiment. -We may note, further, that all the men admitted that they habitually -found it more difficult to work on Mondays, after the over-indulgence -of Sunday, than on other days, and that they made more mistakes on -that day. Aside from that, however, the men were by no means disposed -to admit, before the experiment, that their habitual use of beer -interfered with their work. That it really did so could not well be -doubted after the experiment. - - -_The Effect of Beer-drinking on German School-children_ - -Some doubly significant observations as to the practical effects -of beer and wine in dulling the faculties were made by Bayer, who -investigated the habits of 591 children in a public school in Vienna. -These pupils were ranked by their teachers into three groups, denoting -progress as "good," "fair," or "poor" respectively. Bayer found, on -investigation, that 134 of these pupils took no alcoholic drink; that -164 drank alcoholics very seldom; but that 219 drank beer or wine once -daily; 71 drank it twice daily; and three drank it with every meal. -Of the total abstainers, 42 per cent. ranked in the school as "good," -49 per cent. as "fair," and 9 per cent. as "poor." Of the occasional -drinkers, 34 per cent. ranked as "good," 57 per cent. as "fair," and -9 per cent. as "poor." Of the daily drinkers, 28 per cent. ranked as -"good," 58 per cent. as "fair," and 14 per cent. as "poor." Those -who drank twice daily ranked 25 per cent. "good," 58% "fair," and 18 -per cent. "poor," Of the three who drank thrice daily, one ranked -as "fair," and the other two as "poor." Statistics of this sort are -rather tiresome; but these will repay a moment's examination. As -Aschaffenburg, from whom I quote them, remarks, detailed comment is -superfluous: the figures speak for themselves. - -Neither in England nor America, fortunately, would it be possible to -gather statistics comparable to these as to the effects of alcohol on -growing children; for the Anglo-Saxon does not believe in alcohol for -the child, whatever his view as to its utility for adults. The effects -of alcohol upon the growing organism have, however, been studied -here with the aid of subjects drawn from lower orders of the animal -kingdom. Professor C. F. Hodge, of Clark University, gave alcohol to -two kittens, with very striking results. "In beginning the experiment," -he says, "it was remarkable how quickly and completely all the higher -psychic characteristics of both the kittens dropped out. Playfulness, -purring, cleanliness and care of coat, interest in mice, fear of dogs, -while normally developed before the experiment began, all disappeared -so suddenly that it could hardly be explained otherwise than as a -direct influence of the alcohol upon the higher centers of the brain. -The kittens simply ate and slept, and could scarcely have been less -active had the greater part of their cerebral hemisphere been removed -by the knife." - - -_The Development of Fear in Alcoholized Dogs_ - -Professor Hodge's experiments extended also to dogs. He found that the -alcoholized dogs in his kennel were lacking in spontaneous activity -and in alertness in retrieving a ball. These defects must be in part -explained by lack of cerebral energy, in part by weakening of the -muscular system. Various other symptoms were presented that showed the -lowered tone of the entire organism under the influence of alcohol; -but perhaps the most interesting phenomenon was the development of -extreme timidity on the part of all the alcoholized dogs. The least -thing out of the ordinary caused them to exhibit fear, while their -kennel companions exhibited only curiosity or interest. "Whistles and -bells, in the distance, never ceased to throw them into a panic in -which they howled and yelped while the normal dogs simply barked." One -of the dogs even had "paroxysms of causeless fear with some evidence of -hallucination. He would apparently start at some imaginary object, and -go into fits of howling." - -The characteristic timidity of the alcoholized dogs did not altogether -disappear even when they no longer received alcohol in their diet. -Timidity had become with them a "habit of life." As Professor Hodge -suggests, we are here apparently dealing with "one of the profound -physiological causes of fear, having wide application to its phenomena -in man. Fear is commonly recognized as a characteristic feature in -alcoholic insanity, and delirium tremens is the most terrible form -of fear psychosis known," The development of the same psychosis, in -a modified degree, through the continued use of small quantities of -alcohol, emphasizes the causal relation between the use of alcohol -and the genesis of timidity. It shows how pathetically mistaken is -the popular notion that alcohol inspires courage; and, to anyone who -clearly appreciates the share courage plays in the battle of life, it -suggests yet another lamentable way in which alcohol handicaps its -devotees. - - -_Is Alcohol A Poison?_ - -It is perhaps hardly necessary to cite further experiments directly -showing the depressing effects of alcohol, even in small quantities, -upon the mental activities, Whoever examines the evidence in its -entirety will scarcely avoid the conclusion reached by Smith, as -the result of his experiments already referred to, which Dr. Abel -summarizes thus: "One half to one bottle of wine, or two to four -glasses of beer a day, not only counteract the beneficial effects -of 'practice' in any given occupation, but also depress every form -of intellectual activity; therefore every man, who, according to -his own notions, is only a moderate drinker places himself by this -indulgence on a lower intellectual level and opposes the full and -complete utilization of his intellectual powers." I content myself with -repeating that, to the thoughtful man, the beer and the wine must seem -dear at such a price. - -To any one who may reply that he is willing to pay this price for -the sake of the pleasurable emotions and passions that are sometimes -permitted to hold sway in the absence of those higher faculties of -reason which alcohol tends to banish, I would suggest that there is -still another aspect of the account which we have not as yet examined. -We have seen that alcohol may be a potent disturber of the functions -of digestion, of muscular activity, and of mental energizing. But we -have spoken all along of function and not of structure. We have not -even raised a question as to what might be the tangible effects of -this disturber of functions upon the physical organism through which -these functions are manifested. We must complete our inquiry by asking -whether alcohol, in disturbing digestion, may not leave its mark upon -the digestive apparatus; whether in disturbing the circulation it may -not put its stamp upon heart and blood vessels; whether in disturbing -the mind it may not leave some indelible record on the tissues of the -brain. - -Stated otherwise, the question is this: Is alcohol a poison to the -animal organism? A poison being, in the ordinary acceptance of the -word, an agent that may injuriously affect the tissues of the body, and -tend to shorten life. - -Students of pathology answer this question with no uncertain voice. -The matter is presented in a nutshell by the Professor of Pathology at -Johns Hopkins University, Dr. William H. Welch, when he says: "Alcohol -in sufficient quantities is a poison to all living organisms, both -animal and vegetable." To that unequivocal pronouncement there is, I -believe, no dissenting voice, except that a word-quibble was at one -time raised over the claim that alcohol in exceedingly small doses -might be harmless. The obvious answer is that the same thing is true of -any and every poison whatsoever. Arsenic and strychnine, in appropriate -doses, are recognized by all physicians as admirable tonics; but no one -argues in consequence that they are not virulent poisons. - -Open any work on the practice of medicine quite at random, and whether -you chance to read of diseased stomach or heart or blood-vessels -or liver or kidneys or muscles or connective tissues or nerves or -brain--it is all one: in any case you will learn that alcohol may be -an active factor in the causation, and a retarding factor in the cure, -of some, at least, of the important diseases of the organ or set of -organs about which you are reading. You will rise with the conviction -that alcohol is not merely a poison, but the most subtle, the most -far-reaching, and, judged by its ultimate effects, incomparably the -most virulent of all poisons. - - -_Alcohol and Disease_ - -Here are a few corroborative facts, stated baldly, almost at random: -Rauber found that a ten per cent. solution of alcohol "acted as a -definite protoplasmic poison to all forms of cell life with which he -experimented--including the hydra, tapeworms, earthworms, leeches, -crayfish, various species of fish, Mexican axolotl, and mammals, -including the human subject." Berkely found, in four rabbits out -of five in which he had induced chronic alcohol poisoning, fatty -degeneration of the heart muscle. This condition, he says, "seems to be -present in all animals subject to a continual administration of alcohol -in which sufficient time between the doses is not allowed for complete -elimination." Cowan finds that alcoholic cases "bear acute diseases -badly, failure of the heart always ensuing at an earlier period than -one would anticipate." Bollinger found the beer-drinkers of Munich -so subject to hypertrophied or dilated hearts as to justify Liebe in -declaring that "one man in sixteen in Munich drinks himself to death." - -Dr. Sims Woodhead, Professor of Pathology in the University of -Cambridge, says of the effect of alcohol on the heart: "In addition -to the fatty degeneration of the heart that is so frequently met with -in chronic alcoholics, there appears in some cases to be an increase -of fibrous tissue between the muscle fibers, accompanied by wasting -of these tissues.... Heart failure, one of the most frequent causes -of death in people of adult and advanced years, is often due to fatty -degeneration, and a patient who suffers from alcoholic degeneration -necessarily runs a much greater risk of heart failure during the -course of acute fevers or from overwork, exhaustion, and an overloaded -stomach, and the like, than does the man with a strong, healthy heart -unaffected by alcohol or similar poisons." - -It must be obvious that these words give a clue to the agency of -alcohol in shortening the lives of tens of thousands of persons with -whose decease the name of alcohol is never associated in the minds of -their friends or in the death certificates. - -Dr. Woodhead has this to say about the blood-vessels: "In chronic -alcoholism in which the poison is acting continuously, over a long -period, a peculiar fibrous condition of the vessels is met with; this, -apparently, is the result of a slight irritation of the connective -tissue of the walls of these vessels. The wall of the vessel may become -thickened throughout its whole extent or irregularly, and the muscular -coat may waste away as a new fibrous or scar-like tissue is formed. The -wasting muscles may undergo fatty degeneration, and, in these, lime -salts may be deposited; the rigid, brittle, so-called pipestem vessels -are the result." Referring to these degenerated arteries, Dr. Welch -says: "In this way alcoholic excess may stand in a causative relation -to cerebral disorders, such as apoplexy and paralysis, and also the -diseases of the heart and kidneys." - -From our present standpoint it is particularly worthy of remark that -Professor Woodhead states that this calcification of the blood-vessels -is likely to occur in persons who have never been either habitual -or occasional drunkards, but who have taken only "what they are -pleased to call 'moderate' quantities of alcohol." Similarly, Dr. -Welch declares that "alcoholic diseases are certainly not limited -to persons recognized as drunkards. Instances have been recorded in -increasing number in recent years of the occurrence of diseases of -the circulatory, renal, and nervous systems, reasonably or positively -attributable to the use of alcoholic liquors, in persons who never -became really intoxicated and were regarded by themselves and by others -as 'moderate drinkers.'" - -"It is well established," adds Dr. Welch, "that the general mortality -from diseases of the liver, kidney, heart, blood-vessels, and nervous -system is much higher in those following occupations which expose them -to the temptation of drinking than in others." Strumpell declares that -chronic inflammation of the stomach and bowels is almost exclusively -of alcoholic origin; and that when a man in the prime of life dies of -certain chronic kidney affections, one may safely infer that he has -been a lover of beer and other alcoholic drinks. Similarly, cirrhosis -of the liver is universally recognized as being, nine times in ten, of -alcoholic origin. The nervous affections of like origin are numerous -and important, implicating both brain cells and peripheral fibres. - - -_How the Poison Works_ - -Without going into further details as to the precise changes that -alcohol may effect in the various organs of the body, we may note -that these pathological changes are everywhere of the same general -type. There is an ever-present tendency to destroy the higher form of -cells--those that are directly concerned with the vital processes--and -to replace them with useless or harmful connective tissue. "Whether -this scar tissue formation goes on in the heart, in the kidneys, in -the liver, in the blood-vessels, or in the nerves," says Woodhead, -"the process is essentially the same, and it must be associated with -the accumulation of poisonous or waste products in the lymph spaces -through which the nutrient fluids pass to the tissues. The contracting -scar tissue of a wound has its exact homologue in the contracting scar -tissue that is met with in the liver, in the kidney, and in the brain." - -It is not altogether pleasant to think that one's bodily tissues--from -the brain to the remotest nerve fibril, from the heart to the minutest -arteriole--may perhaps be undergoing day by day such changes as these. -Yet that is the possibility which every habitual drinker of alcoholic -beverages--"moderate drinker" though he be--must face. This is an added -toll that does not appear in the first price of the glass of beer or -bottle of wine, but it is a toll that may refuse to be overlooked in -the final accounting. - - -_Alcohol and Acute Infections_ - -In connection with experiments in rendering animals and men immune -from certain contagious diseases through inoculation with specific -serums, Deléarde, working in Calmette's laboratory in Lille, showed -that alcoholized rabbits are not protected by inoculation, as normal -ones are, against hydrophobia. Moreover, he reports the case of -an intemperate man, bitten by a mad dog, who died notwithstanding -anti-rabic treatment, whereas a boy of thirteen, much more severely -bitten by the same dog on the same day, recovered under treatment. -Deléarde strongly advises any one bitten by a mad dog to abstain from -alcohol, not only during the anti-rabic treatment but for some months -thereafter, lest the alcohol counteract the effects of the protective -serum. - -Similar laboratory experiments have been made by Laitenan, who became -fully convinced that alcohol increases the susceptibility of animals to -splenic fever, tuberculosis, and diphtheria. Dr. A. C. Abbott, of the -University of Pennsylvania, made an elaborate series of experiments to -test the susceptibility of rabbits to various micro-organisms causing -pus-formation and blood poisoning. He found that the normal resistance -of rabbits to infection from this source was in most cases "markedly -diminished through the influence of alcohol when given daily to a stage -of acute intoxication." "It is interesting to note," Dr. Abbott adds, -"that the results of inoculation of the alcoholized rabbits with the -erysipelas coccus correspond in a way with clinical observations on -human beings addicted to the excessive use of alcohol when infected by -this organism." - -Additional confirmation of the deleterious effects of alcohol in this -connection was furnished by the cats and dogs of Professor Hodge's -experiments, already referred to. All of these showed peculiar -susceptibility to infectious diseases, not only being attacked earlier -than their normal companions, but also suffering more severely, This -accords with numerous observations on the human subject; for example, -with the claim made some years ago by McCleod and Milles that Europeans -in Shanghai who used alcohol showed increased susceptibility to Asiatic -cholera, and suffered from a more virulent type of the disease. -Professor Woodhead points out that many of the foremost authorities now -concede the justice of this view, and unreservedly condemn the giving -of alcohol, even in medicinal doses, to patients suffering from cholera -or from various other acute diseases and intoxications, including -diphtheria, tetanus, snake-bite, and pneumonia, as being not merely -useless but positively harmful. Even when the patient has advanced far -toward recovery from an acute infectious disease, it is held still -to be highly unwise to administer alcohol, since this may interfere -with the beneficent action of the anti-toxins that have developed in -the tissues of the body, and in virtue of which the disease has been -overcome. - - -_The Ally of Tuberculosis_ - -Not many physicians, perhaps, will go so far as Dr. Muirhead of -Edinburgh, who at one time claimed that he had scarcely known of a -death in a case of pneumonia uncomplicated by alcoholism; but almost -every physician will admit that he contemplates with increased -solicitude every case of pneumonia thus complicated. Equally potent, -seemingly, is alcohol in complicating that other ever-menacing lung -disease, tuberculosis. Dr. Crothers long ago asserted that inebriety -and tuberculosis are practically interconvertible conditions; a view -that may be interpreted in the words of Dr. Dickinson's Baillie -Lecture: "We may conclude, and that confidently, that alcohol -promotes tubercle, not because it begets the bacilli, but because it -impairs the tissues, and makes them ready to yield to the attacks -of the parasites." Dr. Brouardel, at the Congress for the Study of -Tuberculosis, in London, was equally emphatic as to the influence of -alcohol in preparing the way for tuberculosis, and increasing its -virulence; and this view has now become general--curiously reversing -the popular impression, once held by the medical profession as well, -that alcohol is antagonistic to consumption. - -Corroborative evidence of the baleful alliance between alcohol and -tuberculosis is furnished by the fact that in France the regions -where tuberculosis is most prevalent correspond with those in which -the consumption of alcohol is greatest. Where the average annual -consumption was 12.5 litres per person, the death rate from consumption -was found by Baudron to be 32.8 per thousand. Where alcoholic -consumption rose to 35.4 litres, the death rate from consumption -increased to 107.8 per thousand. Equally suggestive are facts put -forward by Guttstadt in regard to the causes of death in the various -callings in Prussia. He found that tuberculosis claimed 160 victims -in every thousand deaths of persons over twenty-five years of age. -But the number of deaths from this disease per thousand deaths among -gymnasium teachers, physicians, and Protestant clergymen, for example, -amounted respectively to 126, 113, and 76 only; whereas the numbers -rose, for hotelkeepers, to 237, for brewers, to 344, and for waiters, -to 556. No doubt several factors complicate the problem here, but one -hazards little in suggesting that a difference of habit as to the use -of alcohol was the chief determinant in running up the death rate due -to tuberculosis from 76 per thousand at one end of the scale to 556 at -the other. - -Pneumonia and tuberculosis combined account for one-fifth of all deaths -in the United States, year by year. In the light of what has just been -shown, it would appear that alcohol here has a hand in the carrying -off of other untold thousands with whose untimely demise its name is -not officially associated. I may add that certain German authorities, -including, for example, Dr. Liebe, present evidence--not as yet -demonstrative--to show that cancer must also be added to the list of -diseases to which alcohol predisposes the organism. - - -_Hereditary Effects of Alcohol_ - -If additional evidence of the all-pervading influence of alcohol is -required, it may be found in the thought-compelling fact that the -effects are not limited to the individual who imbibes the alcohol, but -may be passed on to his descendants. The offspring of alcoholics show -impaired vitality of the most deep-seated character. Sometimes this -impaired vitality is manifested in the non-viability of the offspring; -sometimes in deformity; very frequently in neuroses, which may take the -severe forms of chorea, infantile convulsions, epilepsy, or idiocy. In -examining into the history of 2554 idiotic, epileptic, hysterical, or -weak-minded children in the institution at Bicêtre, France, Bourneville -found that over 41 per cent. had alcoholic parents. In more than 9 per -cent. of the cases, it was ascertained that one or both parents were -under the influence of alcohol at the time of procreation,--a fact -of positively terrifying significance, when we reflect how alcohol -inflames the passions while subordinating the judgment and the ethical -scruples by which these passions are normally held in check. Of -similar import are the observations of Bezzola and of Hartmann that -a large proportion of the idiots and the criminals in Switzerland -were conceived during the season of the year when the customs of the -country--"May-fests," etc.--lead to the disproportionate consumption of -alcohol. - -Experimental evidence of very striking character is furnished by the -reproductive histories of Professor Hodge's alcoholized dogs. Of 23 -whelps born in four litters to a pair of tipplers, 9 were born dead, 8 -were deformed, and only 4 were viable and seemingly normal. Meantime, a -pair of normal kennel-companions produced 45 whelps, of which 41 were -viable and normal--a percentage of 90.2 against the 17.4 per cent. of -viable alcoholics. Professor Hodge points out that these results are -strikingly similar to the observations of Demme on the progeny of ten -alcoholic as compared with ten normal families of human beings. The ten -alcoholic families produced 57 children, of whom 10 were deformed, 6 -idiotic, 6 choreic or epileptic, 25 non-viable, and only 10, or 17 per -cent, of the whole were normal. The ten normal families produced 61 -children, two of whom were deformed, 2 pronounced "backward," though -not suffering from disease, and 3 non-viable, leaving 54, or 88.5 per -cent., normal. - -As I am writing this article, the latest report of the Craig Colony for -Epileptics, at Sonyea, New York, chances to come to my desk. Glancing -at the tables of statistics, I find that the superintendent, Dr. -Spratling, reports a history of alcoholism in the parents of 313 out -of 950 recent cases. More than 22 per cent. of these unfortunates are -thus suffering from the mistakes of their parents. Nor does this by any -means tell the whole story, for the report shows that 577 additional -cases--more than 60 per cent, of the whole--suffer from "neuropathic -heredity"; which means that their parents were themselves the victims -of one or another of those neuroses that are peculiarly heritable, and -that unquestionably tell, in a large number of cases, of alcoholic -indulgence on the part of their progenitors. "Even to the third and -fourth generation," said the wise Hebrew of old; and the laws of -heredity have not changed since then. - -I cite the data from this report of the Epileptic Colony, not because -its record is in any way exceptional, but because it is absolutely -typical. The mental image that it brings up is precisely comparable -to that which would arise were we to examine the life histories of -the inmates of any institution whatever where dependent or delinquent -children are cared for, be it idiot asylum, orphanage, hospital, or -reformatory. The same picture, with the same insistent moral, would be -before us could we visit a clinic where nervous diseases are treated; -or--turning to the other end of the social scale--could we sit in the -office of a fashionable specialist in nervous diseases and behold the -succession of neurotics, epileptics, paralytics, and degenerates that -come day by day under his observation. It is this picture, along with -others which the preceding pages may in some measure have suggested, -that comes to mind and will not readily be banished when one hears -advocated "on physiological grounds" the regular use of alcoholic -drinks, "in moderation." A vast number of the misguided individuals -who were responsible for all this misery never did use alcohol except -in what they believed to be strict "moderation"; and of those that did -use it to excess, there were few indeed who could not have restricted -their use of alcohol to moderate quantities, or have abandoned its use -altogether, had not the drug itself made them its slaves by depriving -them of all power of choice. Few men indeed are voluntary inebriates. - - -_Alcohol and the "Moderate" Drinker_ - -It does not fall within the scope of my present purpose to dwell upon -the familiar aspect of the effects of alcohol suggested by the last -sentence. It requires no scientific experiments to prove that one of -the subtlest effects of this many-sided drug is to produce a craving -for itself, while weakening the will that could resist that craving. -But beyond noting that this is precisely in line with what we have -everywhere seen to be the typical effect of alcohol--the weakening of -higher functions and faculties, with corresponding exaggeration of -lower ones--I shall not comment here upon this all too familiar phase -of the alcohol problem. Throughout this paper I have had in mind the -hidden cumulative effects of relatively small quantities of alcohol -rather than the patent effects of excessive indulgence, I have had in -mind the voluntary "social" drinker, rather than the drunkard. I have -wished to raise a question in the mind of each and every habitual user -of alcohol in "moderation" who chances to read this article, as to -whether he is acting wisely in using alcohol habitually in any quantity -whatever. - -If in reply the reader shall say: "There is some quantity of alcohol -that constitutes actual moderation; some quantity that will give me -pleasure and yet not menace me with these evils," I answer thus: - -Conceivably that is true, though it is not proved. But in any event, -no man can tell you what the safe quantity is--if safe quantity there -be--in any individual case. We have seen how widely individuals -differ in susceptibility. In the laboratory some animals are killed -by doses that seem harmless to their companions. These are matters of -temperament that as yet elude explanation. But this much I can predict -with confidence: whatever the "safe" quantity of alcohol for you to -take, you will unquestionably at times exceed it. In a tolerably wide -experience of men of many nations, I have never known an habitual -drinker who did not sometimes take more alcohol than even the most -liberal scientific estimate could claim as harmless. Therefore I -believe that you must do the same. - -So I am bound to believe, on the evidence, that if you take alcohol -habitually, in any quantity whatever, it is to some extent a menace to -you. I am bound to believe, in the light of what science has revealed: -(1) that you are tangibly threatening the physical structures of your -stomach, your liver, your kidneys, your heart, your blood-vessels, -your nerves, your brain; (2) that you are unequivocally decreasing -your capacity for work in any field, be it physical, intellectual, or -artistic; (3) that you are in some measure lowering the grade of your -mind, dulling your higher esthetic sense, and taking the finer edge -off your morals; (4) that you are distinctly lessening your chances -of maintaining health and attaining longevity; and (5) that you may -be entailing upon your descendants yet unborn a bond of incalculable -misery. - -Such, I am bound to believe, is the probable cost of your "moderate" -indulgence in alcoholic beverages. Part of that cost you must pay in -person; the balance will be the heritage of future generations. As a -mere business proposition: Is your glass of beer, your bottle of wine, -your high-ball, or your cocktail worth such a price? - - - - - [Illustration] - -EDITORIALS - -THE PEASANT SALOON-KEEPER--RULER OF AMERICAN CITIES - - [Illustration] - - -The great wave of temperance which is now sweeping Europe and America -has its chief impulse, no doubt, in ethical and religious sentiment. -But a new force is operative--the force of an exact knowledge of the -evil physical effects of alcohol. It would be impossible to exaggerate -the importance of this new element in temperance reform. - -The story of the modern series of scientific experiments with alcohol, -begun about twenty-five years ago and still in progress, is given by -Dr. Henry Smith Williams in this number of MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE. -These investigations, largely conducted in Continental Europe, include -experiments on the senses, upon the muscles, and upon the different -human intellectual activities, from the simplest to the most complex. -Without exception they show that every function of the normal human -body is injured by the use of alcohol--even the moderate use; and that -the injury is both serious and permanent. - -This knowledge is of concern to all the world. But there is in America -a particular and special concern over a condition which may be believed -to be unparalleled in human history--certainly in modern civilization: -the power of the saloon in American government, especially the -government of cities. - -The fact is notorious; yet the condition is not clearly understood. -Sixty years ago, with the first flood of European immigration, the -character of American city governments changed suddenly and entirely. -A great proportion of the peasantry who arrived here from the farms of -Europe stopped in our cities. They were isolated from the rest of the -population; their one great social center was the saloon. And out of -this social center came their political leaders and the manipulators of -their votes. The European peasant saloon-keeper, for more than half a -century, has been the ruler of a great proportion of American cities. - -The case of Tammany Hall, for so many years the real governing body of -New York, is most familiar. Its politicians for half a century have -graduated into public affairs through the common school of the saloon. -Its leaders at the present time are perfect examples of the European -peasant saloon-keeper type, which has come to govern us. The same -condition exists to a large extent in nearly every one of the larger -cities in the country. An analysis of the member-ship of the boards of -aldermen in these cities for the past few decades shows a percentage of -saloon-keepers with foreign names which is astonishing. - -A government necessarily takes the character of those conducting it. -The business of saloon-keeping, which produced the present management -of our cities, involves, from the conditions which surround it, a -disregard for both law and proper moral ideals. Ordinary commercial -motives urge the proprietors, as a class, to increase the sale of a -commodity which the State everywhere endeavors to restrict; and a -savage condition of competition drives them still further--till a -great proportion break the provisions of the law in some way; while -a considerable number ally themselves with the most degraded and -dangerous forms of vice. - -The government by this class has been exactly what might have been -expected. A body of men--drawn from an ancestry which has never -possessed any knowledge or traditions of free government; educated in -a business whose financial successes are made through the disregard of -law--are elevated to the control of the machinery of law and order in -the great cities. Another type of citizen--men of force and enterprise -unsurpassed in the history of the world--by adapting the discoveries of -the most inventive century of the world to the uses of commerce, have -massed together in the past half century a chain of great cities upon -the face of a half savage continent, and left them to the government -of such people as these. The commercial enterprise of these cities has -been the marvel of the world; their government has reached a point of -moral degradation and inefficiency scarcely less than Oriental. - -The debauching of our city life by this kind of government has been -frequently pictured in this magazine. A government by saloon-keepers, -and by dealers in flagrant immorality, finds both its power and profit -in the establishment of vice by its official position. The progress of -such a government is shown in George Kennan's description of the former -régime in San Francisco, published in MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE of -September, 1907: - -"Instead of protecting the public by enforcing the laws, it devoted -itself mainly to making money by allowing gamblers, policy-sellers, -brothel keepers, and prostitutes to break the laws. Its honest -officers and men tried, at first, to do their duty; but the police -commissioners, under the influence or direction of Ruef, interfered -with their efforts to close illegal and immoral resorts; the police -court judges, allowing themselves to be swayed by selfish political -considerations, released the prisoners whom they arrested." - -Conditions similar to this have been shown in this magazine to exist -in New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Pittsburg, and other great cities -of America. The results have been a general disintegration in the -moral fiber of cities. Life itself is much more unsafe than under the -well-ordered governments of European cities. The murder rate in Chicago -and New York is six or eight times as great as in London and Berlin. -Even such a primary necessity of civilization as the safety of women is -lost sight of. A leading Chicago newspaper said in 1906: - -"It has ever been our proudest boast as a people that in this country -woman is respected and protected as she is in no other. That boast is -becoming an empty one in Chicago. Women have not only been annoyed and -insulted in great numbers on the street within a very short time, but -not a few have been murdered. In the year before the Hollister tragedy, -there were seventeen murders of women in Chicago, which attracted the -attention of the city." - -The system of government which produces this result was well described -some years ago by the late Bishop Potter, speaking of conditions in New -York. - -"A corrupt system," he said, "whose infamous details have been steadily -uncovered, to our increasing horror and humiliation, was brazenly -ignored by those who were fattening on its spoils, and the world was -presented with the astounding spectacle of a great municipality, whose -civic mechanism was largely employed in trading in the bodies and -souls of the defenseless." - -Aside from giving direct encouragement and propagation to the more -terrible forms of vice, the European peasant saloon-keeper government -of our cities furnishes a fitting field for so-called respectable -men--but really criminals of the worst type--who help organize and -perpetuate saloon government for the purpose of securing, by bribery, -franchises for public utilities without paying therefor. Thus American -cities have been robbed as well as badly governed. - -There are signs of amelioration of these conditions in most of the -great cities of the country. But every advance is made against the -fierce antagonism of just such systems as Bishop Potter described; -and those systems exist in every large American city to-day--either -in direct control or ready to take control at the slightest sign of -relaxation by the forces which are opposing them. And the foundation of -this evil structure is the European peasant saloon-keeper. - -MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE, in the next year, will consider the -horrible influence of the saloon on American life. Dr. Williams will -follow his article in the present number by studies of the influence of -alcohol upon society at large, upon racial development, and upon the -State. The author is especially equipped for his work. He is in the -first place perhaps the greatest living popularizer of national science -and history in America; and he has himself made life-long observations -upon the influence of alcohol--both physical and social--first as -a medical practitioner in the treatment of the insane at the great -asylums at Bloomingdale and Randalls Island, and later by study and -observation in the chief capitals of Europe, where he has lived the -greater part of the last ten years. The sound judgment and impartial -temper which have characterized his work in other fields will be found -in his treatment of this great subject. - - - - -THE ELDER STATESMEN - - -Senators Sherman, Hoar, Edmunds, George, and Gray; these were the men -who made the present Sherman Anti-trust Law. They were the men who -made largely the financial and constitutional history of the United -States for the three decades following the Civil War. They brought -to the consideration of the trust problem an intimate knowledge of -constitutional law, an open, unbiased attitude toward property rights, -and a thorough devotion to the public interest. They gave long and -careful attention to the question, spending two years on this bill. -There was nothing hasty or ill-considered about their action. They -sought to end special privilege and put all citizens on the same basis -of free competition. Of all their great services to the nation none -probably equals in importance this bill, which may be called the Magna -Charta of industrial and commercial liberty. - -The amendment of the Sherman Act may be an important public issue for -some time to come. If it were possible to assemble for this work a body -of men as able and as disinterested as the Elder Statesmen who framed -the original act, the interests of the public would be safe. - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - -Hyphenated words have been retained as in the original text. - -Typographical errors have been silently corrected. - -OE ligatures have been expanded. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of McClure's Magazine, Vol. XXXI, No. 6, -October, 1908, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE, OCTOBER 1908 *** - -***** This file should be named 43842-8.txt or 43842-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/8/4/43842/ - -Produced by Karin Spence, Juliet Sutherland and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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