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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 11:31:02 -0800 |
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diff --git a/old/63809-h/63809-h.htm b/old/63809-h/63809-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index a198e2c..0000000 --- a/old/63809-h/63809-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8310 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Little Review, June 1914 (Vol. 1, No. 4), Ed. Margaret C. Anderson</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <meta name="cover" content="images/cover.jpg" /> - <!-- TITLE="The Little Review: 1914/06 (Vol. 1, No. 4)" --> - <!-- AUTHOR="Margaret C. Anderson" --> - <!-- LANGUAGE="en" --> - <!-- PUBLISHER="Margaret C. 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} -.smallcaps { font-variant:small-caps; } -.underline { text-decoration:underline; } -.hidden { display:none; } - -/* poetry */ -div.poem-container { text-align:center; } -div.poem-container div.poem { display:inline-block; } -div.stanza { text-align:left; text-indent:0; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; } -.stanza .verse { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:2em; } -.stanza .verse1 { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:3em; } -.stanza .verse2 { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:4em; } -.stanza .verse3 { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:5em; } -.stanza .verse4 { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:6em; } -.stanza .verse10 { text-align:left; text-indent:-2em; margin-left:12em; } -.stanza.attr .verse { text-align:right; text-indent:0; margin-right:1em; } -.stanza.center .verse { text-align:center; text-indent:0; } - -a:link { text-decoration: none; color: rgb(10%,30%,60%); } -a:visited { text-decoration: none; color: rgb(10%,30%,60%); } -a:hover { text-decoration: underline; } -a:active { text-decoration: underline; } - -/* Transcriber's note */ -.trnote { font-size:0.8em; line-height:1.2em; background-color: #ccc; - color: #000; border: black 1px dotted; margin: 2em; padding: 1em; - page-break-before:always; margin-top:3em; } -.trnote p { text-indent:0; margin-bottom:1em; } -.trnote ul { margin-left: 0; padding-left: 0; } -.trnote li { text-align: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; } -.trnote ul li { list-style-type: square; } -.trnote .transnote { text-indent:0; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; } - -/* page numbers */ -a[title].pagenum { position: absolute; right: 1%; } -a[title].pagenum:after { content: attr(title); color: gray; background-color: inherit; - letter-spacing: 0; text-indent: 0; text-align: right; font-style: normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: x-small; - border: 1px solid silver; padding: 1px 4px 1px 4px; - display: inline; } - -div.centerpic { text-align:center; text-indent:0; display:block; } -div.poetry img { max-width:100% } -div.mason img { max-width:100% } -span.centerpic { display:inline-block; vertical-align:middle; } - -@media handheld { - body { margin-left:0; margin-right:0; } - div.frontmatter { max-width:inherit; } - - div.poem-container div.poem { display:block; margin-left:2em; } -/* div.table013 { max-width:inherit; } */ - div.editorials { border:0; } - div.bookstores div.list { display:block; margin-left:2em; } - - div.ads { max-width:inherit; border:0; border-top:1px solid black; padding:0; } - div.ads .tablepoetry .col1 { max-width:inherit; } - - a.pagenum { display:none; } - a.pagenum:after { display:none; } - - span.firstchar { clear:left; float:left; } - div.ads .fl { float:left; } - div.ads .fr { float:right; } -} - -</style> -</head> - -<body> -<pre style='margin-bottom:6em;'>The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Review, June 1914 (Vol. 1, No. -4), by Margaret C. Anderson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: The Little Review, June 1914 (Vol. 1, No. 4) - -Author: Various - -Editor: Margaret C. Anderson - -Release Date: December 05, 2020 [EBook #63809] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Jens Sadowski and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - http://www.pgdp.net. This book was produced from images made - available by the Modernist Journal Project, Brown and Tulsa - Universities, http://www.modjourn.org. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE REVIEW, JUNE 1914 (VOL. -1, NO. 4) *** -</pre> -<div class="frontmatter chapter"> -<h1 class="title"> -<span class="smallcaps">The Little Review</span> -</h1> - -<p class="subt"> -<em>Literature Drama Music Art</em> -</p> - -<p class="ed"> -<span class="line1">MARGARET C. ANDERSON</span><br /> -<span class="line2">EDITOR</span> -</p> - -<p class="issue"> -JUNE, 1914 -</p> - - <div class="table"> -<table class="tocn" summary="TOC"> -<tbody> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#INCENSE_AND_SPLENDOR">“Incense and Splendor”</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>The Editor</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#A_KALEIDOSCOPE">A Kaleidoscope</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Nicholas Vachel Lindsay</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#FUTURISM_AND_PSEUDO-FUTURISM">Futurism and Pseudo-Futurism</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Alexander S. Kaun</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#A_WONDER-CHILD_VIOLINIST">A Wonder-Child Violinist</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Margaret C. Anderson</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_NEW_PAGANISM">The New Paganism</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>DeWitt C. Wing</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#GLORIA_MUNDI">Gloria Mundi</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Eunice Tietjens</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_WILL_TO_LIVE">The Will to Live</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>George Burman Foster</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#KEATS_AND_FANNY_BRAWNE">Keats and Fanny Brawne</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Charlotte Wilson</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#A_NEW_WOMAN_FROM_DENMARK">A New Woman from Denmark</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>Marguerite Swawite</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#EDITORIALS">Editorials</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#NEW_YORK_LETTER">New York Letter</a></td> - <td class="col2"><em>George Soule</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#CORRESPONDENCE">Correspondence:</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#MISS_COLUMBIA_AN_OLD-FASHIONED_GIRL">Miss Columbia: An Old-Fashioned Girl</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#POETRY_TO_THE_UTTERMOST">Poetry to the Uttermost</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#REFLECTIONS_OF_A_DILETTANTE">Reflections of a Dilettante</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_IMMORTALITY_OF_THE_SOUL">The Immortality of the Soul</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1"><a href="#BOOK_DISCUSSION">Book Discussion:</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#DOSTOEVSKYPESSIMIST">Dostoevsky—Pessimist?</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_SALVATION_OF_THE_WORLD_Y_LA_WELLS">The Salvation of the World à la Wells</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_UNIQUE_JAMES_FAMILY">The Unique James Family</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#THE_IMMIGRANTS_PURSUIT_OF_HAPPINESS">The Immigrant’s Pursuit of Happiness</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1"><a href="#DE_MORGANS_LATEST">De Morgan’s Latest</a></td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - </div> - <div class="table"> - <div class="footer"> -<p class="pricel"> -25 cents a copy -</p> - -<p class="pub"> -MARGARET C. ANDERSON, Publisher<br /> -Fine Arts Building<br /> -CHICAGO -</p> - -<p class="pricer"> -$2.50 a year -</p> - - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="frontmatter chapter"> -<p class="tit"> -<a id="page-1" class="pagenum" title="1"></a> -<span class="smallcaps">The Little Review</span> -</p> - - <div class="table"> - <div class="issue"> -<p class="vol"> -Vol. I -</p> - -<p class="issue"> -JUNE, 1914 -</p> - -<p class="number"> -No. 4 -</p> - - </div> - </div> -<p class="cop"> -Copyright, 1914, by Margaret C. Anderson. -</p> - -</div> - -<h2 class="article1" id="INCENSE_AND_SPLENDOR"> -“Incense and Splendor” -</h2> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Margaret C. Anderson</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">A</span> young American novelist stated -the other day that the American -woman is oversexed; that present-day -modes of dress are all designed to emphasize -sex; and that it is high time -for a reaction against sex discussions, sex -stories, and sex plays. -</p> - -<p> -But I think she’s entirely mistaken. -The American woman, speaking broadly, -is pathetically undersexed, just as she is -undersensitive and underintelligent. The -last adjective will be disputed or resented; -but it’s interesting once in a -while to hear the thoughtful foreigner’s -opinion of our intelligence. Tagore, -for instance, said that he was agreeably -surprised in regard to the American -man and astonished at the stupidity of -the American woman. As for our fiction -and drama—we’ve had much about sex -in the last few years, some of it intensely -valuable, much of it intensely foolish; -but it’s quite too early to predict the -reaction. The really constructive work -on the subject is yet to be done. -</p> - -<p> -And the pity of the whole thing is that -the critics who keep lecturing us on our -oversexedness don’t realize that what -they’re really trying to get at is our -poverty of spirit, our emotional incapacities, -our vanities, our pettinesses—any -number of qualities which spring -from anything but too much sex. Nothing -is safer than to say that the man or -woman of strong sex equipment is rarely -vain or petty or mean or unintelligent. -But as a result of all this vague bickering, -“sex” continues to shoulder the -blame for all kinds of shortcomings, and -the real root of the trouble goes untreated—even -undiagnosed. One thing -is certain: until we become conscious -that there’s something very wrong with -our attitude toward sex, we’ll never get -rid of the hard, tight, anæmic, metallic -woman who flourishes in America as nowhere -else in the world. -</p> - -<p> -This doesn’t mean the old Puritan -type, to whom sex was a rotten, unmentionable -thing; nor does it mean the -Victorian, who recognizes the sex impulse -only as a means to an end. They -belong to the past too definitely to be -harmful. It means two newer types than -these: the woman who looks upon sex as -something to be endured and forgiven, -and the woman who doesn’t feel at all. -</p> - -<p> -The first type has a great (and by no -means a secret) pride in her spiritual -superiority to the coarse creature she -married, and a never-dying hope that she -can lead him up to her level. She talks -a lot about spirituality; she has her -standards, and she knows how to classify -what she calls “sensuality”; she’s convinced -that she has married the best man -in the world, but—well, all men have -this failing in common, and the only -<a id="page-2" class="pagenum" title="2"></a> -thing one can do is to rise above it magnificently, -with that air of spiritual isolation -which is her most effective weapon. -Shaw has hit her off on occasion, but he -ought to devote a whole three acts to her -undoing; or perhaps an Ibsen would do -it better, because tragedy follows her -path like some sinister shadow, as inevitably -as those other “ghosts” of his. The -second type has no more capacity for -love or sex than she has for music or -poetry—which is none at all. Like a -polished glass vase, empty and beautiful, -she lures the man who loves her to a kind -of supreme nothingness. She will always -tell you that marriage is “wonderful”; -and she urges all her friends to -marry as quickly as possible, for that’s -the only way to be perfectly happy. -Marriage is “wonderful” to her just as -birth is “wonderful” in Charlotte Perkins -Gilman’s satire: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> - <div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Birth comes. Birth—</p> - <p class="verse">The breathing re-creation of the earth!</p> - <p class="verse">All earth, all sky, all God, life’s sweet deep whole,</p> - <p class="verse">Newborn again to each new soul!</p> - <p class="verse">“Oh, are you? What a shame! Too bad, my dear!</p> - <p class="verse">How will you stand it, too. It’s very queer</p> - <p class="verse">The dreadful trials women have to carry;</p> - <p class="verse">But you can’t always help it when you marry.</p> - <p class="verse">Oh, what a sweet layette! What lovely socks!</p> - <p class="verse">What an exquisite puff and powder box!</p> - <p class="verse">Who is your doctor? Yes, his skill’s immense—</p> - <p class="verse">But it’s a dreadful danger and expense!”</p> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -It’s all a powder-puff matter: marriage -means new clothes, gifts, and a -house to play with. It gives her another -chance to get something for nothing—which -is immoral. But the beauty of -the situation is that the immorality -(thanks to our habits of not thinking -straight) is so perfectly concealed: it -even appears that she is the one who -does the giving. As for any bother -about sex, she’ll soon put an end to that. -And so she goes on her pirate ways, -luring for the sake of the lure, adding -her voice to the already swelled chorus -which proclaims that truth and beauty -lodge in things as they are, not in things -as they might or should be. -</p> - -<p> -But, to return to the novelist’s argument -about clothes, the present fashion -for low necks and slit skirts has nothing -to do with sex necessarily. Its origin is -in vanity—which may or may not have -a bearing upon sex. And of course it -usually hasn’t; for vanity is an attribute -of small natures, and sex is an attribute -of great ones. -</p> - -<p> -There has never been a time when -women had such an opportunity to be -beautiful physically. And they are taking -advantage of it. Watch any modern -matinée or concert or shopping crowd -carefully. There’s something about the -new style that points to a finer naturalness, -just as it is more natural for men -to wear clothes that follow the lines of -their bodies than to pad their shoulders -and use twice too much cloth in -their trouser legs. The move of muscles -through a close-fitting suit gives an -effect of strength and efficiency and animal -grace that is superbly healthy. And -it is so with women, too. With the -exception of the foolish and unnecessary -restrictions in walking women have such -a splendid chance to look straight, unhampered, -direct, lithe. I don’t know -just why, but I want to use the word -“true” about the new clothes. They’re -so much less dishonest than the old -padded ways—the strange, perverted, -<em>muffled</em> methods. The old plan was -built on the theory that the suppression -of nature is civilization; the new plan -seems to be that a recognition of nature is -common sense. We may become Greek -yet. By all of which I’ll probably be -credited with supporting the silly indecencies -<a id="page-3" class="pagenum" title="3"></a> -we see every day on the street—ridiculous, -unintelligent manifestations -of the new freedom—instead of merely -seeing in its wise expression a bigger -hope of truth. I think the preachers -who are filling the newspapers with hysterical -protests about women’s dress had -better look a little more closely at the -real issue and stop confusing a fine impulse -with its inevitable abuses. -</p> - -<p> -But after all there’s only one important -thing to be said about sex in its -relation to a full life. Some day we’re -going to have a tremendous revaluation -of the thing known as feeling. We’re -going to realize that the only person who -doesn’t <em>err in relation to values</em> is the -artist; and since the bigger part of the -artist’s equipment is simply the capacity -to <em>feel</em>, we’re going to begin training a -race of men toward a new ideal. It shall -be this: that nothing shall qualify as -fundamentally “immoral” except denial—the -failure of imagination, of understanding, -of appreciation, of quickening -to beauty in every form, of perceiving -beauty where custom or convention has -dwarfed its original stature; the failure -to put one’s self in the other person’s -place; the great, ghastly failure of life -which allows one to look but not to see, -to listen but not to hear—to touch but -not to feel. -</p> - -<p> -The other night I heard Schumann’s -<em>Des Abends</em>—that summer-night elegy -of a thousand, thousand cadences—played -near a place where trees were -stirring softly and grass smelling warm -and cool; some one said afterward that -it was pretty.... The other day I -heard a violin played so throbbingly that -it was like “what the sea has striven to -say”; and through it all a group of -people talked, as though no miracle were -happening. Not very long after these -two —— (I can’t find a noun), I talked -with some one who tried to convince me -that the biggest and most valiant person -I know was—“well, not the sort one can -afford to be friends with.” Somehow all -three episodes immediately linked themselves -together in my mind. Each was -a failure of the same type—a failure of -imagination, of feeling; the last one, at -least, was tragedy; and it will become -impossible for people to fail that way -only when they stop failing in the first -two ways. -</p> - -<p> -Not long ago I went into a music -store and bought Tschaikowsky’s <em>Les -Larmes</em>. It cost twenty-eight cents. I -walked out so under the spell of the immense -adventure of living that I realized -later how imbecile I must have looked and -why the clerk gazed at me so suspiciously. -But I had a song which had -cost a man who knows what sorrow to -write—a thing of such richness that it -meant <em>experience</em> to any one who could -own it. One of the world’s big things -for twenty-eight cents! And such things -happen every day! -</p> - -<p> -Sex is simply the quintessence of this -type of feeling, plus a deeper thing for -which no words have been made. But we -reach the wonder of the utmost realization -in just one way: by having felt -greatly at every step. -</p> - -<p> -“American artists know everything,” -said a young foreign sculptor lately; -“they know that much” (throwing out -his arms wide), “but they only feel <em>that</em> -much!” (measuring an inch with his -fingers). How can we produce the great -audiences that Whitman knew we needed -in order to have great poets, if we don’t -train the new generations to feel? How -can we prevent these crimes against love -and sex—how put a stop to human -waste in all its hideous forms—if we -don’t recognize the new idealism which -means not to deny? -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="A_KALEIDOSCOPE"> -<a id="page-4" class="pagenum" title="4"></a> -A Kaleidoscope -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Nicholas Vachel Lindsay</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="BLANCHE_SWEETMOVING-PICTURE_ACTRESS"> -Blanche Sweet—Moving-Picture Actress -</h3> - -<p class="subt"> -[After seeing the reel called <em>Oil and Water</em>.] -</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Beauty has a throne-room</p> - <p class="verse">In our humorous town,</p> - <p class="verse">Spoiling its hobgoblins,</p> - <p class="verse">Laughing shadows down.</p> - <p class="verse">Dour musicians torture</p> - <p class="verse">Rag-time ballads vile,</p> - <p class="verse">But we walk serenely</p> - <p class="verse">Down the odorous aisle.</p> - <p class="verse">We forgive the squalor,</p> - <p class="verse">And the boom and squeal,</p> - <p class="verse">For the Great Queen flashes</p> - <p class="verse">From the moving reel.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Just a prim blonde stranger</p> - <p class="verse">In her early day,</p> - <p class="verse">Hiding brilliant weapons,</p> - <p class="verse">Too averse to play;</p> - <p class="verse">Then she burst upon us</p> - <p class="verse">Dancing through the night,</p> - <p class="verse">Oh, her maiden radiance,</p> - <p class="verse">Veils and roses white!</p> - <p class="verse">With new powers, yet cautious,</p> - <p class="verse">Not too smart or skilled,</p> - <p class="verse">That first flash of dancing</p> - <p class="verse">Wrought the thing she willed:—</p> - <p class="verse">Mobs of us made noble</p> - <p class="verse">By her strong desire,</p> - <p class="verse">By her white, uplifting</p> - <p class="verse">Royal romance-fire.</p> - <p class="verse">Though the tin piano</p> - <p class="verse">Snarls its tango rude,</p> - <p class="verse">Though the chairs are shaky</p> - <p class="verse">And the drama’s crude,</p> - <p class="verse">Solemn are her motions,</p> - <p class="verse">Stately are her wiles,</p> - <p class="verse">Filling oafs with wisdom,</p> -<a id="page-5" class="pagenum" title="5"></a> - <p class="verse">Saving souls with smiles;</p> - <p class="verse">Mid the restless actors</p> - <p class="verse">She is rich and slow,</p> - <p class="verse">She will stand like marble,</p> - <p class="verse">She will pause and glow,</p> - <p class="verse">Though the film is twitching</p> - <p class="verse">Keep a peaceful reign,</p> - <p class="verse">Ruler of her passion,</p> - <p class="verse">Ruler of our pain!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="GIRL_YOU_SHALL_MOCK_NO_LONGER"> -Girl, You Shall Mock No Longer -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">You shall not hide forever,</p> - <p class="verse">I shall your path discern;</p> - <p class="verse">I have the key to Heaven,</p> - <p class="verse">Key to the pits that burn.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Saved ones will help me, lost ones</p> - <p class="verse">Spy on your secret way—</p> - <p class="verse">Show me your flying footprints</p> - <p class="verse">On past your death-bed day.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">If by your pride you stumble</p> - <p class="verse">Down to the demon-land,</p> - <p class="verse">I shall be there beside you,</p> - <p class="verse">Chained to your burning hand.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">If, by your choice and pleasure,</p> - <p class="verse">You shall ascend the sky,</p> - <p class="verse">I, too, will mount that stairway,</p> - <p class="verse">You shall not put me by.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">There, ’mid the holy people,</p> - <p class="verse">Healed of your blasting scorn,</p> - <p class="verse">Clasped in these arms that hunger,</p> - <p class="verse">Splendid with dreams reborn,</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">You shall be mastered, lady,</p> - <p class="verse">Knowing, at last, Desire—</p> - <p class="verse">Lifting your face for kisses—</p> - <p class="verse">Kisses of bitter fire.</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_AMARANTH"> -<a id="page-6" class="pagenum" title="6"></a> -The Amaranth -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here ...</p> - <p class="verse">Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and yawns</p> - <p class="verse">And the tremendous amaranth descends</p> - <p class="verse">Sweet with glory of ten thousand dawns?</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Does it not mean my God would have me say:—</p> - <p class="verse">“Whether you will or no, oh city young</p> - <p class="verse">Heaven will bloom like one great flower for you,</p> - <p class="verse">Flash and loom greatly, all your marts among?”</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Friends I will not cease hoping, though you weep.</p> - <p class="verse">Such things I see, and some of them shall come</p> - <p class="verse">Though now our streets are harsh and ashen-grey,</p> - <p class="verse">Though now our youths are strident, or are dumb.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Friends, that sweet town, that wonder-town shall rise.</p> - <p class="verse">Naught can delay it. Though it may not be</p> - <p class="verse">Just as I dream, it comes at last, I know</p> - <p class="verse"><em>With streets like channels of an incense-sea</em>!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="AN_ARGUMENT"> -An Argument -</h3> - -<h4 class="subsection" id="I._THE_VOICE_OF_THE_MAN_WHO_IS_IMPATIENT_WITH_VISIONS_AND_UTOPIAS."> -I. <em>The voice of the man who is impatient with visions and -Utopias.</em> -</h4> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">We find your soft Utopias as white</p> - <p class="verse">As new-cut bread, as dull as life in cells,</p> - <p class="verse">Oh scribes that dare forget how wild we are,</p> - <p class="verse">How human breasts adore alarum bells.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">You house us in a hive of prigs and saints</p> - <p class="verse">Communal, frugal, clean, and chaste by law.</p> - <p class="verse">I’d rather brood in bloody Elsinore</p> - <p class="verse">Or be Lear’s fool, straw-crowned amid the straw.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Promise us all our share in Agincourt.</p> - <p class="verse">Say that our clerks shall venture scorns and death.</p> - <p class="verse">That future ant-hills will not be too good</p> - <p class="verse">For Henry Fifth, or Hotspur, or Macbeth.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> -<a id="page-7" class="pagenum" title="7"></a> - <p class="verse">Promise that through tomorrow’s spirit-war</p> - <p class="verse">Man’s deathless soul will hack and hew its way,</p> - <p class="verse">Each flaunting Cæsar climbing to his fate</p> - <p class="verse">Scorning the utmost steps of yesterday.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">And never a shallow jester any more.</p> - <p class="verse">Let not Jack Falstaff spill the ale in vain.</p> - <p class="verse">Let Touchstone set the fashions for the wise,</p> - <p class="verse">And Ariel wreak his fancies through the rain!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h4 class="subsection" id="II._THE_RHYMERS_REPLY._INCENSE_AND_SPLENDOR."> -II. <em>The Rhymer’s reply. Incense and Splendor.</em> -</h4> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Incense and splendor haunt me as I go.</p> - <p class="verse">Though my good works have been, alas, too few,</p> - <p class="verse">Though I do naught, High Heaven comes down to me</p> - <p class="verse">And future ages pass in tall review.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I see the years to come as armies vast,</p> - <p class="verse">Stalking tremendous through the fields of time.</p> - <p class="verse">Man is unborn. Tomorrow he is born</p> - <p class="verse">Flamelike to hover o’er the moil and grime;</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Striving, aspiring till the shame is gone,</p> - <p class="verse">Sowing a million flowers where now we mourn—</p> - <p class="verse">Laying new precious pavements with a song,</p> - <p class="verse">Founding new shrines, the good streets to adorn.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I have seen lovers by those new-built walls</p> - <p class="verse">Clothed like the dawn, in orange, gold, and red;</p> - <p class="verse">Eyes flashing forth the glory-light of love</p> - <p class="verse">Under the wreaths that crowned each royal head.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Life was made greater by their sweetheart prayers;</p> - <p class="verse">Passion was turned to civic strength that day—</p> - <p class="verse">Piling the marbles, making fairer domes</p> - <p class="verse">With zeal that else had burned bright youth away.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I have seen priestesses of life go by</p> - <p class="verse">Gliding in Samite through the incense-sea:—</p> - <p class="verse">Innocent children marching with them there,</p> - <p class="verse">Singing in flowered robes—“the Earth is free!”</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> -<a id="page-8" class="pagenum" title="8"></a> - <p class="verse">While on the fair deep-carved, unfinished towers</p> - <p class="verse">Sentinels watched in armor night and day—</p> - <p class="verse">Guarding the brazier-fires of hope and dream—</p> - <p class="verse">Wild was their peace, and dawn-bright their array!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="DARLING_DAUGHTER_OF_BABYLON"> -Darling Daughter of Babylon -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Too soon you wearied of our tears.</p> - <p class="verse">And then you danced with spangled feet,</p> - <p class="verse">Leading Belshazzar’s chattering court</p> - <p class="verse">A-tinkling through the shadowy street.</p> - <p class="verse">With mead they came, with chants of shame,</p> - <p class="verse">Desire’s red flag before them flew.</p> - <p class="verse">And Istar’s music moved your mouth</p> - <p class="verse">And Baal’s deep shames rewoke in you.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Now you could drive the royal car:</p> - <p class="verse">Forget our Nation’s breaking load:—</p> - <p class="verse">Now you could sleep on silver beds—</p> - <p class="verse">(Bitter and dark was our abode).</p> - <p class="verse">And so for many a night you laughed</p> - <p class="verse">And knew not of my hopeless prayer,</p> - <p class="verse">Till God’s own spirit whipped you forth</p> - <p class="verse">From Istar’s shrine, from Istar’s stair.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Darling daughter of Babylon—</p> - <p class="verse">Rose by the black Euphrates flood—</p> - <p class="verse">Again your beauty grew more dear</p> - <p class="verse">Than my slave’s bread, than my heart’s blood.</p> - <p class="verse">We sang of Zion, good to know,</p> - <p class="verse">Where righteousness and peace abide ...</p> - <p class="verse">What of your second sacrilege</p> - <p class="verse">Carousing at Belshazzar’s side?</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Once, by a stream, we clasped tired hands—</p> - <p class="verse">Your paint and henna washed away.</p> - <p class="verse">Your place (you said) was with the slaves</p> - <p class="verse">Who sewed the thick cloth, night and day.</p> - <p class="verse">You were a pale and holy maid</p> - <p class="verse">Toil-bound with us. One night you said:—</p> - <p class="verse">“Your God shall be my God until</p> - <p class="verse">I slumber with the patriarch dead.”</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> -<a id="page-9" class="pagenum" title="9"></a> - <p class="verse">Pardon, daughter of Babylon,</p> - <p class="verse">If, on this night remembering</p> - <p class="verse">Our lover walks under the walls</p> - <p class="verse">Of hanging gardens in the spring—</p> - <p class="verse">A venom comes, from broken hope—</p> - <p class="verse">From memories of your comrade-song,</p> - <p class="verse">Until I curse your painted eyes</p> - <p class="verse">And do your flower-mouth too much wrong.</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="I_WENT_DOWN_INTO_THE_DESERT"> -I Went Down Into the Desert -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I went down into the desert</p> - <p class="verse">To meet Elijah—</p> - <p class="verse">Or some one like, arisen from the dead.</p> - <p class="verse">I thought to find him in an echoing cave,</p> - <p class="verse"><em>For so my dream had said</em>.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I went down into the desert</p> - <p class="verse">To meet John the Baptist.</p> - <p class="verse">I walked with feet that bled,</p> - <p class="verse">Seeking that prophet, lean and brown and bold.</p> - <p class="verse"><em>I spied foul fiends instead.</em></p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I went down into the desert</p> - <p class="verse">To meet my God,</p> - <p class="verse">By Him be comforted.</p> - <p class="verse">I went down into the desert</p> - <p class="verse">To meet my God</p> - <p class="verse"><em>And I met the Devil in Red</em>.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I went down into the desert</p> - <p class="verse">To meet my God.</p> - <p class="verse">Oh Lord, my God, awaken from the dead!</p> - <p class="verse">I see you there, your thorn-crown on the ground—</p> - <p class="verse">I see you there, half-buried in the sand—</p> - <p class="verse">I see you there, your white bones glistening, bare,</p> - <p class="verse"><em>The carrion birds a-wheeling round your head</em>!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="ENCOUNTERED_ON_THE_STREETS_OF_THE_CITY"> -<a id="page-10" class="pagenum" title="10"></a> -Encountered on the Streets of the City -</h3> - -<p class="subt"> -<span class="smallcaps">The Church of Vision and Dream</span> -</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Is it for naught that where the tired crowds see</p> - <p class="verse">Only a place for trade, a teeming square,</p> - <p class="verse">Doors of high portent open unto me</p> - <p class="verse">Carved with great eagles, and with Hawthorns rare?</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Doors I proclaim, for there are rooms forgot</p> - <p class="verse">Ripened through æons by the good and wise:</p> - <p class="verse">Walls set with Art’s own pearl and amethyst</p> - <p class="verse">Angel-wrought hangings there, and heaven-hued dyes:—</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Dazzling the eye of faith, the hope-filled heart:—</p> - <p class="verse">Rooms rich in records of old deeds sublime:</p> - <p class="verse">Books that hold garnered harvests of far lands</p> - <p class="verse">Pictures that tableau Man’s triumphant climb:</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Statues so white, so counterfeiting life,</p> - <p class="verse">Bronze so ennobled, so with glory fraught</p> - <p class="verse">That the tired eyes must weep with joy to see,</p> - <p class="verse">And the tired mind in Beauty’s net be caught.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Come, enter there, and meet Tomorrow’s Man,</p> - <p class="verse">Communing with him softly, day by day.</p> - <p class="verse">Ah, the deep vistas he reveals, the dream</p> - <p class="verse">Of Angel-bands in infinite array—</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Bright angel-bands that dance in paths of earth</p> - <p class="verse">When our despairs are gone, long overpast—</p> - <p class="verse">When men and maidens give fair hearts to Christ</p> - <p class="verse">And white streets flame in righteous peace at last!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_STUBBORN_MOUSE"> -The Stubborn Mouse -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down</p> - <p class="verse">Began his task in early life,</p> - <p class="verse">He kept so busy with his teeth</p> - <p class="verse">He had no time to take a wife.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> -<a id="page-11" class="pagenum" title="11"></a> - <p class="verse">He gnawed and gnawed through sun and rain,</p> - <p class="verse">When the ambitious fit was on,</p> - <p class="verse">Then rested in the sawdust till</p> - <p class="verse">A month in idleness had gone.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">He did not move about to hunt</p> - <p class="verse">The coteries of mousie-men;</p> - <p class="verse">He was a snail-paced stupid thing</p> - <p class="verse">Until he cared to gnaw again.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree down</p> - <p class="verse">When that tough foe was at his feet—</p> - <p class="verse">Found in the stump no angel-cake</p> - <p class="verse">Nor buttered bread, no cheese, nor meat—</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">The forest-roof let in the sky.</p> - <p class="verse">“This light is worth the work,” said he.</p> - <p class="verse">“I’ll make this ancient swamp more light”—</p> - <p class="verse"><em>And started on another tree</em>!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_SWORD-PEN_OF_THE_RHYMER"> -The Sword-Pen of the Rhymer -</h3> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">I’ll haunt this town, though gone the maids and men</p> - <p class="verse">The darling few, my friends and loves today.</p> - <p class="verse">My ghost returns, bearing a great sword-pen</p> - <p class="verse">When far off children of their children play.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">That pen will drip with moonlight and with fire;</p> - <p class="verse">I’ll write upon the church-doors and the walls;</p> - <p class="verse">And reading there, young hearts shall leap the higher</p> - <p class="verse">Though drunk already with their own love-calls.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Still led of love, and arm in arm, strange gold</p> - <p class="verse">Shall find in tracing the far-speeding track</p> - <p class="verse">The dauntless war-cries that my sword-pen bold</p> - <p class="verse">Shall carve on terraces and tree-trunks black—</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">On tree-trunks black, ’mid orchard-blossoms white—</p> - <p class="verse">Just as the phospherent merman, struggling home,</p> - <p class="verse">Jewels his fire-paths in the tides at night</p> - <p class="verse">While hurrying sea-babes follow through the foam.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> -<a id="page-12" class="pagenum" title="12"></a> - <p class="verse">And, in the winter, when the leaves are dead</p> - <p class="verse">And the first snow has carpeted the street,</p> - <p class="verse">While young cheeks flush a healthful Christmas red,</p> - <p class="verse">And young eyes glisten with youth’s fervor sweet—</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">My pen will cut in snow my hopes of yore,</p> - <p class="verse">Cries that in channelled glory leap and shine—</p> - <p class="verse">My village gospel—living evermore</p> - <p class="verse">’Mid those rejoicing loyal friends of mine.</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="FUTURISM_AND_PSEUDO-FUTURISM"> -Futurism and Pseudo-Futurism -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Alexander S. Kaun</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">T</span><span class="postfirstchar">hat</span> Futurism is not a mere fad, a -capricious bubble, is apparent from -the fact that after five years of stormy -existence the movement does not disappear -or abate, but, on the contrary, continually -gains soil and spreads deep and -wide over all fields of European art. -The critics of the new school no longer -find it possible to dismiss it with a contemptuous -smile as a silly joke of over-satiated -modernists, but they either attack -the Futurists with the vehemence -and fury of a losing combatant, or -they discuss the doctrine earnestly and -apprehensively. -</p> - -<p> -To set art free of the atavistic fetters -of the old culture and civilization, to imbue -it with the nervous sensitiveness of -our age, have been the negative and positive -aims of Futurism. It is absurd to -abide by the forms of Phydias and -Æschylus in the days of radium and -aeroplanes. The influence of the old -masterpieces is accountable for the fact -that of late humanity ceased to produce -great works of art. It is quite natural -that the protest against the “historical -burden” should have originated in Italy, -a country which, after having served for -centuries as a pillar of light, has so degenerated -that in our times it can boast -only of such names as the saccharine -Verdi and the pretentious D’Annunzio. -It is natural, I should like to add, that in -this country Futurism is still a foreign -plant; for, fortunately or unfortunately, -we have been free of a burdensome heritage, -and an iconoclastic movement would -appear quixotic. -</p> - -<p> -Started in Milan in the end of the -year 1909, the movement has swept the -continent and has revolutionized art. -Even conservative England feebly echoes -the battle-cry in the attempts of the -<a id="page-13" class="pagenum" title="13"></a> -Imagists. I do not intend to prognosticate -the future of Futurism; it is still in -its infantile stage, growing and developing -with surprising leaps, continually -taking on new forms; but the present-day -Futurism is abundant with quaint, -grotesque features approaching caricature; -and some of them merit a few -words. -</p> - -<p> -The “parent” of Futurism and the -present leader of Futurist poets, Marinetti, -is, to say the least, an unusual personality. -His Boswell, Tullia Pantea, -describes his master’s life in its minutest -nuances and chants dithyrambs to his -wonderful achievements. We learn that -Marinetti was born in Egypt in voluptuous -surroundings, his father being a -millionaire. From his childhood on he -disposed of unlimited sums of money. -“At the age of eleven he knew a woman; -at fifteen he edited a literary magazine, -<em>Papyrus</em>, printed on vellum paper; at -seventeen he fought a duel.” We follow -this <em>enfant terrible</em> to Paris where he lavishly -squanders his millions, fights duels, -and faces the court for his pornographic -poems. He is sentenced to an eight -weeks’ imprisonment for an exotic work -which I shall not venture to quote, as it -is too repulsive to the English reader. -Pantea further describes his master’s -kingly palazzo in Milan, where “... at -night in the bed-chamber decorated with -astonishing elegance and with mad -extravagance meet the most beautiful -women of Italy and Europe.” -</p> - -<p> -I quote these nauseatic details, for they -help to explain the erotic aroma of Marinetti’s -poems. Their erotism is morbid, -aroused by artificial “convulsions of -sensuality,” “imitation of madness,” “a -cancan of dancing Death.” Yet we cannot -overlook the beauty of the verses, -their devilish rhythm, and enchanting -mysticism. Some of his early poems, -more natural than his latest <em>Words at -Liberty</em>, are intoxicating with their mad -exoticism. -</p> - -<p> -The following is one of his best-known -poems, <em>The Banjos of Despair</em>: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> - <div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Elles chantent, les benjohs hystériques et sauvages,</p> - <p class="verse">comme des chattes énervées par l’odeur de l’orage.</p> - <p class="verse">Ce sont des nègres qui les tiennent</p> - <p class="verse">empoignées violemment, comme on tient</p> - <p class="verse">une amarre que secoue la bourrasque.</p> - <p class="verse">Elles miaulent, les benjohs, sous leurs doigts frénétiques,</p> - <p class="verse">et la mer, en bombant son dos d’hippopotame,</p> - <p class="verse">acclame leurs chansons par des flic-flacs sonores</p> - <p class="verse">et des renâclements.</p> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -The hysteric and savage banjos that -meow like cats maddened by the odor of -the storm; the sea which, swelling its -back of a hippopotamus, applauds their -songs with its sonorous twick-twacks and -snorts—I understand the poet, I believe -him. But, as I said, this is Marinetti’s -early poetry. How far he has “progressed” -you may judge from the following -quotation from his latest <em>Words -at Liberty</em>, as it appears in <em>The London -Times</em>: -</p> - - -<div class="excerpt"> - <div class="table013"> -<div class="centerpic"> -<img src="images/table013.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="u center"> -INDIFFERENZA<br /> -DI 2 ROTONDITA SOSPESE<br /> -SOLE + PALLONE<br /> -FRENATI -</p> - - <div class="table"> -<table class="table013" summary="Table-1"> -<tbody> - <tr class="v"> - <td class="col1"><div>flamme giganti</div></td> - <td class="col2"><div>colonne di fumo</div></td> - <td class="col3"><div>spirali di scintille</div></td> - </tr> - <tr class="c"> - <td class="col1">villaggi</td> - <td class="col2">turchi</td> - <td class="col3">incendiati</td> - </tr> - <tr class="c"> - <td class="col1" colspan="2">grande <span class="larget">T</span></td> - </tr> - <tr class="l"> - <td class="col1" colspan="3">rrrrrzzzonzzzzzzante d’ue monoplano bulgaro<br />+ neve di manifesti.</td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -This “poem” is a description of a battle -during the Turco-Bulgarian war; the -<a id="page-14" class="pagenum" title="14"></a> -style is supposed to be “polychromatic, -polymorphous, and polyphonic, that may -not only animalize, vegetalize, electrify, -and liquefy itself, but penetrate and express -the essence and the atomic life of -matter.” This is the <em>dernier cri</em> of Italian -Futurism which originated in a—draff-ditch. -Here is Marinetti’s own “electrified” -description of that memorable -event: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -As usual we spent the night in our favorite -café, which is attended by the most elegant -women. Some one suggested that we take an -automobile ride in the suburbs. We whirled -over the sleepy streets. Out of town. Deep -darkness.... Moment of falling. We are -hurled into an abyss. Ecstasy.... -</p> - -<p> -Then—we are on the bottom of a ditch filled -with malodorous dregs. We drown in the mud. -Mud covers the face, the body, mud blinds the -eyes, fills the mouth. -</p> - -<p> -Finally we succeed in getting out of the filthy -ditch and we go back to the city. But.... -</p> - -<p> -For a certain time there remained with us -the taste of rottenness; we could not get rid -of the rotten odor that permeated all pores -of our bodies. In the moment of falling into -that ditch the idea of Futurism came into my -head. On the same night before dawn we wrote -the entire first manifesto on Futurism. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Thus the new art was born under peculiar -circumstances—“under the sign -of scandal”—and scandal became the -tactics of Italian Futurists who have professed -their “delight in being hissed” -and their contempt for applause. -</p> - -<p> -A few points of that manifesto: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -We shall sing of the love of danger, the habit -of energy and boldness. Literature has hitherto -glorified thoughtful immobility, ecstasy of -sleep; we shall extol aggressive movement, feverish -insomnia, the double quick step, the somersault, -the box on the ear, the fisticuff. -</p> - -<p> -There is no more beauty except in strife. -We wish to glorify war—the only purifier of -the world—militarism, patriotism, the destructive -gesture of the anarchist, the beauty of Ideas -that kill, the contempt for women. -</p> - -<p> -We wish to destroy the museums, the libraries, -to fight against moralism and feminism, and -all opportunistic and utilitarian meannesses. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -This bombastic program has been heralded -by the Italian Futurists ever since -1909. Fortunately they went no further -than threats, but they strove to attract -attention and in this they gloriously -succeeded. -</p> - -<p> -Their attitude toward women was -expressed in the motto: “<em>Méprisez la -femme</em>.” Love for woman is an atavism -and should be discarded into archives. -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -We chant hymns to the new beauty that has -come into the world in our days, a hymn to -<em>swiftness</em>, a doxology to <em>motion</em>. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Woman is justified in her existence inasmuch -as she is a prostitute. Sensuality -for the sake of sensuality is extolled as -the only stimulus in human life,—its -only aim. Otherwise human beings are -of no importance, at best as important -as inanimate objects. -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The suffering of a man is of the same interest -to us as the suffering of an electric lamp, -which, with spasmodic starts, shrieks out the -most heart-rending expressions of color. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -These aphorisms belong to the pen of -Marinetti or to those of his disciples, -who are but pigmies in comparison with -their leader. They greeted the war with -Turkey in Tripolitania enthusiastically, -and Marinetti joyously witnessed the -splendor of “bayonets piercing human -bodies” and similar features of the great -“health-giver”—war. At that time he -began the cycle of his pictorial poems recently -published in the <em>Words at Liberty</em>. -Here is one of his early descriptions: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -A stream. A bridge. Plus artillery. Plus -infantry. Plus trenches. Plus cadavers. Dzang-bah-bakh. -Cannon. Kha-kh-kha. Mitrailleuse. -Tr-r-r. Sh-sh-sh-sh. S-s-s-s-s-s. Bullets. Chill. -Blood. Smoke. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a id="page-15" class="pagenum" title="15"></a> -To complete the character of Marinetti -I shall quote his article in <em>The London -Daily Mail</em> in which he states his -“profound disgust for the contemporary -stage because it stupidly fluctuates -between historic reconstruction (pasticcio -or plagiarism) and a minute, wearying, -photographic reproduction of actuality.” -</p> - -<p> -His ideal is the smoking concert, circus, -cabaret, and night-club as “the only -theatrical entertainment worthy of the -true Futurist spirit.” “The variety theater -is the only kind of theater where the -public does not remain static and stupidly -passive, but participates noisily in -action.” The variety show “brutally -strips woman of all her veils, of the romantic -phrases, sighs, and sobs which -mark and deform her. On the other -hand, it shows up all the most admirable -animal qualities of woman, her powers of -attack and of seduction, of treachery, -and of resistance.” -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The variety theater is, of course, antiacademical, -primitive, and ingenuous, and therefore -all the more significant by reason of the unforeseen -nature of all its fumbling efforts.... -The variety theater destroys all that is solemn, -sacred, earnest, and pure in Art—with a big -A. It collaborates with Futurism in the destruction -of the immortal masterpieces by plagiarizing -them, parodying them, and by retailing -them without style, apparatus, or pity. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -At this point I am ready to agree with -the Russian critic, A. Lunacharsky, who -thus defines Marinetti: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -He combines in his personality the exoticism -of an East-African with the cynical <em>blaguerie</em> -of a Parisian and the clownishness of a Neapolitan. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -In connection with the foregoing it is -curious to observe the pranks of Marinetti’s -colleagues in the land of eternal -contradictions—Russia. The Russian -Futurists, Ego-futurists, and Acmeists, -vie with the Italians in noisiness and eccentricity, -and they have aroused an extensive -pro and con polemic. In the last -issue of <em>Russkaja Mysl</em> there is an interesting -criticism of the Futurist poetry -written by Valery Brusov. This foremost -poet, known on the continent as the -Russian Verhaeren, began his literary career -some fifteen years ago with the one-line -“poem”: “Oh, conceal thy pallid -legs.” This extremist is now ranked by -the Futurists among the reactionaries. -Brusov is not hostile to Futurism, although -he opposes the contemporary -bearers of its banner. In a dialogue supposedly -carried on between a Symbolist -and a Futurist Brusov makes the latter -say: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -Tell me, what is poetry? The art of words, -is it not? In what else does it differ from -music, from painting? The poet is the artist -of words: they are for him what colors are for -the painter or marble for your sculptors. We -have determined to be artists of words, and -only of words, which means to fulfill the true -vocation of the poet. You, what have you done -with the word? You have transformed it into -a slave, into a hireling, to serve your so-called -ideas! You have debased the word to a -subservient rôle. All of you, the realists as -well as the symbolists, have used words just as -the “Academicians” have used colors. Those -understood not that the essence of painting is -in the combination of colors and lines, and they -have strived to express through colors and lines -some meager ideas absolutely useless for commonly -known. You likewise have not understood -that the essence of poetry lies in the combination -of words, and you have mutilated them -by forcing them to express your thoughts borrowed -from the philosophers. The futurists are -the first to proclaim the true poetry, the free, -the real freedom of words. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -And so, since words have become enslaved -and carry, unfortunately, within -them the ballast of established notions -and conceptions, the Futurists experiment -in liberating the words of their accepted -meanings by creating new words, -weird combinations of syllables, skilful -<a id="page-16" class="pagenum" title="16"></a> -arrangements of sounds which defy translation. -For the benefit of that part of -mankind which does not understand Russian -the Futurists invented a “universal -tongue” which consists exclusively of -single vowels. Here is a specimen under -the title <em>Heights</em>. I give the original letters -and their English transliteration. -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> - <div class="table"> -<table class="table016" summary="Table-1"> -<tbody> - <tr> - <td class="col1">е у ю</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">yeh oo you</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">и а о</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">ee ah oh</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">о а</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">oh ah</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">о а е е и е я</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">oh ah yeh yeh ee yeh yah</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">о а</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">oh ah</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">е у и е у</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">yeh oo ee yeh oo</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">и е е</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">ee yeh yeh</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">и и ы и е и и ы</td> - <td class="col2">—</td> - <td class="col3">ee ee ēh ee yeh ee ee ēh</td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Do you feel the heights? The poet does, -however, and he proclaims in his defense: -“The more subjective is truth, the more -objective is the subjective objectivity.” -</p> - -<p class="tb"> - -</p> - -<p> -Brusov’s point of view is expressed in -the impassioned words of the historian of -literature who appears at the end of the -above-mentioned dialogue: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -In the new poetry, that is, in the poetry of -the last centuries, one observes a definite shifting -of two currents. One school puts forward -the primary importance of the <em>content</em>, the -other—that of <em>form</em>; later the same tendencies -are repeated in the two successive schools. -Pseudo-Classicism, as a school, placed above all -form not the “what” but the “how.” The -content they borrowed from the ancients and -then performed the task most important in their -eyes—the elaboration of that material. The -Romanticists, in contra-distinction to the -Pseudo-Classicists, insisted first of all on the -content. They admired the middle ages, their -yearning for an ideal, their religious aspirations. -<a id="misslin1"></a>Of course, the Romanticists contributed their -<a id="misslin2"></a>did this, so to speak, casually, while actually -they neglected the form of their verses; recall, if -you will, the frolics of Musset or the carelessness -of the poems of Novalis. The Parnassians once -more proclaimed the primariness of form. “Reproachless -verse” became their motto. It was -they who declared that in poetry not the -“what” was important, but the “how,” and -it was none other than Théophile Gautier who -invented the formula “art for the sake of -art.” The Symbolistic school again revived the -content. All this was in reality not so simple, -schematic, rectilineal, as I expressed it. To be -sure, all true poets have endeavored to bring -into harmony both content and form, but I -have in view the prevailing tendency of the -poetic school as a whole. If my point of view -is correct, then it is natural to expect that -there is to come a new school, replacing the -Symbolists, which will once more consider form -of primary importance. At the appearance -of a new school the doctrine of the old corresponding -school becomes more subtle, more -poignant, more extreme. The Parnassians -went further than their progenitors, the Pseudo-Classicists. -It is natural then to foresee that -the new coming school will in its cult of form -go further than the Parnassians. As such a -school, destined to take the place of Symbolism, -I consider Futurism. Its historic rôle is -to establish the absolute predominance of form -in poetry, and to repudiate any content in it. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -The weak point of Futurism appears -to be, as is the case with every revolutionary -movement, the fact that alongside -with the true fighters for new horizons -straggle parasitic marauders, that -on the heels of the sincere searchers of -artistic truth tread nonchalantly buffoons -and charlatans. The number of the latter -is so great that the true prophets -drown in the vast slough, and the public -sees but the caricature side of the movement. -Take for instance, the Post-Impressionist -and the Futurist painters. -Any unbiased and open-minded observer -will admit that many of them, like Odilon -Redon, Duchamp, Picasso, Chabaud, -even Matisse, have created works which, -whether you like them or not, possess the -sure criterion of art: they stir you, -arouse your thoughts and emotions. Yet -how easy it is to smuggle into their -midst colossal nonsense and counterfeit -can be judged from the following -episode: -</p> - -<p> -<a id="page-17" class="pagenum" title="17"></a> -A group of young painters in Paris -decided to arouse public opinion against -the unrestricted accessibility of the Independent -Salon by proving that among -the exponents of the exhibition such an -“independent” artist as a donkey could -find a place. The editors of <em>Fantasio</em> -undertook to assist them in carrying out -their plan. A manifesto was issued of -which I quote a few pearls: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="addr017"> -<span class="line1">To art-critics:</span><br /> -<span class="line2">To painters:</span><br /> -<span class="line3">To the public:</span> -</p> - -<p> -A manifesto of the school of the Excessivists. -Hurrah! Brother-Excessivists, hurrah! -Masters splendid and renascent, we are on the -eve of various exhibitions of banal and stereotypical -paintings. Let us smash, then, the -palettes of our forefathers; let us set fire of -Joy to the pseudo-masterpieces, and let us establish -great canons destined to rule art henceforward. -</p> - -<p> -The <a id="corr-4"></a>canon is contained in one word: <em>L’excessivisme</em>. -</p> - -<p> -“Excess in everything is a defect,” once -said a certain ass. We proclaim the reverse: -excess at all times, in everything, is the absolute -power. The sun can never be too ardent, -the sky too blue, the sea-perspective too ruby, -darkness too black, as there can never be heroes -too valiant or flowers too fragrant. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Down with contours, down with half-tones, -down with craft! Instead—dazzling -and resplendent colors! And so -on. Bombastic phrases borrowed from -Marinetti and his colleagues. The -manifesto is signed Joachim Raphael -Boronali. Boronali is the anagram of -Aliboron—the French word for donkey. -The jesters later explained that they intended -by the euphony of an Italian -name “to arouse with more certainty the -admiration of the crowd.” -</p> - -<p> -The next step was to procure the services -of Lolo, an old donkey well known -to the artists on Montmartre, as its stable -is at the cabaret Lapin Agile. The following -procedure is immortalized in an -official protocol, the most unique document -in the annals of art: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -Protocol (<em>Procès-verbal de constat</em>). On the -8th of March, before me, Paul Henri Brionne, -magistrate of the civil court of Paris, in my -office on <em>rue du Faubourg Montmartre</em>, 33, appeared -M. ——,<a class="fnote" href="#footnote-1" id="fnote-1">[1]</a> of the periodical <em>Fantasio</em>, -whose residence is in Paris, boulevard Poissonière, -14, and declared: -</p> - -<p> -“Every year there takes place an exhibition -of various works of drawing, painting, and -sculpture under the name of the Salon of the -Independent Artists; -</p> - -<p> -“This exhibition is open for all painters, -and unfortunately, alongside with productions -of high value there figure ridiculous works that -have no signs of art; -</p> - -<p> -“In order to show to what extent any work -can be accepted in that exhibition, to the detriment -of the meritorious productions, he intends -to send there in the name of <em>Fantasio</em>, a -picture the author of which would be a donkey. -The picture will be entered in the catalogue -under the title <em>Et le soleil s’endormit sur -l’Adriatique</em>, and signed <em>J. R. Boronali</em>; -</p> - -<p> -“For said reasons he asks me to be present -at the painting of said picture in order to witness -the process and draw an official report -about it.” -</p> - -<p> -Having consented to the request, I went in -the company of Messrs. ——, the editors of -<em>Fantasio</em>, to the cabaret du Lapin Agile, where -in front of said establishment Messrs. —— -set up a new canvas on a chair that took the -place of an easel. In my presence they arranged -paints—blue, green, yellow, and red; -to the tail-extremity of the donkey, which belongs -to the owner of the cabaret Lapin Agile, -was tied a paint-brush. -</p> - -<p> -Then the donkey was brought to the canvas, -and M. —— upholding the brush and the tail -of the beast allowed her to daub in all directions -taking care only of changing the paints -on the brush. -</p> - -<p> -I assured myself that the picture presented -various tones passing from blue into green and -from yellow into red without constituting anything -definite and resembling nothing. -</p> - -<p> -When the work had been finished, in my -presence the picture and author were photographed. -</p> - -<p> -<a id="page-18" class="pagenum" title="18"></a> -In testimony of the aforesaid I have written -and issued this protocol for legal use. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">P. Brionne.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="footnote" /> - -<p class="footnote"> -<a class="footnote" href="#fnote-1" id="footnote-1">[1]</a> The names were not revealed. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -From the photograph it may be seen -that the donkey had been teased with -some appetizing food held before his -mouth, to which tantalization the so-called -Boronali responded with the -wags of his “tail-extremity,” according -to the phraseology of the solemn document. -</p> - -<p> -The picture then having been taken -to the Salon, Monsieur Boronali was -asked to pay his membership fee, and -thenceforward his name figured among -those of Matisse, Rousseau, Le Fauconnier, -and other great. To the astonishment -of the <em>Fantasio group</em>, their prank -remained unnoticed for some time; the -critics spoke of Boronali’s work along -with the other pictures, and the manifesto -of the Excessivists was but slightly commented -upon. In a series of sensational -articles and piquant stories <em>The Fantasio</em> -finally succeeded in drawing general attention -to their <em>chef d’oeuvre</em>. The Paris -press, as well as the foreign, opened a hot -discussion on the significance of Boronali’s -work in a serious tone. Only the -<em>Kölnische Zeitung</em> in a review of the -manifesto and the picture carefully remarked, -“If it is not a carnival joke”—referring -to the manifesto but not -doubting the authenticity of Boronali’s -canvas. True, the title of the picture -seemed mystifying: why <em>The Sun Asleep -over the Adriatic</em>, when there were neither -sun nor sea? <em>The Gazette de France</em> -ridiculed the title. <em>The New York Herald</em>, -endeavoring to justify the name of -the picture, suggested that the sun was -asleep <em>beneath</em> the Adriatic—an ingenious -hypothesis. <em>The Revue des Beaux-Arts</em> -gave a detailed and scholarly account -of the picture, but found in it -nothing extraordinary in comparison -with the other Independents. The hardest -blow to Boronali’s genius was dealt -by <em>De l’Art Ancien et Moderne</em>, which accused -him of being <em>banal</em>. “Among the -cosmopolite crowd, along with Messrs. -Ghéon, Klingsor, Jamet ... struts the -sheer banality of M. Boronali.” -</p> - -<p> -The scandal that took place after the -mystificators had revealed their trick is -of secondary importance. What looms -out of this incident is the dangerously -vague line of demarcation between what -is true art and what is mere daubery in -Futurism. -</p> - -<p> -The <em>Gaulois</em> summed up the affair in a -few significant words: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The scholastics had maintained that “It is -much easier for the ass to disprove than it is -for the philosopher to assert.” But here came -an ass and proved something in spite of all the -philosophers of the world. He has proved—not -<em>a priori</em> but <em>a posteriori</em>—that the most -manifest daubery may pass as a picture in the -eyes of those who accept the non-real, the improbable, -and the absurd for new art. -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="filler"> -<p class="noindent"> -Thought uttered becomes an untruth.—<em>Thaddeus Tutchev.</em> -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="A_WONDER-CHILD_VIOLINIST"> -<a id="page-19" class="pagenum" title="19"></a> -A Wonder-Child Violinist -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Margaret C. Anderson</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">T</span><span class="postfirstchar">he</span> wonder-child is not so much a -“wonder” in Europe as in this -country. “At seven, yes—even up to -eleven, perhaps,” a young German violinist -who began to concertize at six once -told me. “But after that—there are -so many and they all play so <em>beautiful</em>! -So it is more common there and people -think not so much of it.” And she went -on to tell me, with the most wistful seriousness, -how at twelve she had felt suddenly -so oppressed with age and weariness -that for two years she had wanted -not to play at all. She described it as a -period when she wanted to “stop feeling -and run in the country all day and be -only with animals.” -</p> - -<p> -But on the whole her theory seemed -to be that it was the simplest thing in -the world for a child to play well—better, -in some ways, than he will ever play -later on; and very likely it’s true. The -newer psychologists have given us -enough reason to think so. -</p> - -<p> -It still comes with something of a -shock to us here, however; and when we -started for The Chicago Little Theatre -one night two weeks ago to hear Master -Ruby Davis, aged twelve, give a violin -recital, it was with the most excited anticipations. -I had never heard a child -play the violin. Surely disappointment -was inevitable.... -</p> - -<p> -A little boy walked quietly out on to -the stage, smiling. (I heard afterward -that some one had asked him if it didn’t -frighten him to face all those people. -“Oh, no,” he said, “I’m going to play -my violin!”) He had on a little soft -white shirt and knickerbockers. His -hair was almost auburn and curled away -from his forehead; his eyes were blue -and his skin the softest white. His -hands were the long, slender, “artistic” -type rather than the blunt, heavy type -which is quite as common among first-rate -violinists. “Antoine”—that was -all I could think. -</p> - -<p> -And then he lifted his bow and swung -into the Haendel Sonata in A with all -the assurance of a master. It was only -a matter of seconds until you knew that -he could not disappoint—ever: he knew -how to feel! A musician may commit -all the crimes in the musical universe, or -he may play so flawlessly that you marvel; -but none of it matters particularly. -A phrase will tell you whether he is an -artist—the way the notes rise or fall -or seem to be gathered up into that subtle -thing which is the difference between -efficient Playing and Music by the grace -of God. -</p> - -<p> -Ruby Davis makes Music. And how -he loved doing it! He played a <em>Canzonetta</em> -by Ambrosia, and the Jarnefelt -<em>Berceuse</em>, and other difficult things like -the Pugnani <em>Praeludium</em>, and that <em>Motto -Perpetuo</em> of Ries, beside the regulation -<em>Cavatina</em> and the Dvořák <em>Humoresque</em>—every -one of them, in spite of small -deficiencies that will be corrected, with -a quality that is genius. As nearly as -I can register it this is the picture of -him I shall remember: -</p> - -<p> -A little slender, eager, swaying body, -and a great violin above which his face -seemed worshipping. His eyes turned -deep blue as flowers when he raised his -head for some lovely soaring tone or -dropped it on his instrument over some -deep G string melody. His mouth was -the saddest little mouth I’ve ever seen, -and somehow you could watch the music -coursing through his cheek bones. His -right foot kept moving gently inside his -shoe, always in perfect time. -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="THE_NEW_PAGANISM"> -<a id="page-20" class="pagenum" title="20"></a> -The New Paganism -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">DeWitt C. Wing</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">O</span><span class="postfirstchar">ne</span> of the momentous achievements -of applied science is the convincing -demonstration that the earth is a -living thing. It is as truly a live organism -as any of the animals of which it is -the mother. Life could not have been -evolved by or from it if there had not -been life in it. We do not require an -inexplicable miracle to account for the -evolution of man; we can trace his pedigree -back to an ancestry with fins and -gills, and of course it stretches far beyond -that comparatively recent stage in -his development. From the beginning -of the world conditions have steadily -grown more favorable to the habitation -of the earth by the higher animals. -Since man is a part of the earth, what -he himself has done to bring about this -auspicious change may be credited to the -mind or life resident in the earth. Then -there is essential goodness in the earth—which -is not saying that there is no -evil in it. The world is a better place -for a man to live in now than it was -when his ancestors occupied dismal caves. -It is no illusion that, design or no design, -the cosmic urge has been toward -goodness, by which I mean an increasingly -hospitable dwelling-place for men. -There have been recessions, and there -will be others, but, apart from faith and -hope, established facts compel the man -who understands them to declare his absolute -and unalterable certainty that the -inexorable law of life’s becoming greater -than it is cannot be nullified. So that, -regardless of all poverty and misery, of -all that is unlovely, of all the blind and -passionate class hatreds and sex quibbles, -the man who really thinks must -think hopefully. There is indeed the -most ample justification of optimism. -</p> - -<p> -The world is God, and the man who -worships it the new pagan. He comes -off the same stock as the old pagans, -who were called heathens—because they -were not Christians. They were, in fact, -the classic earth-lovers, and, hence, more -truly the sons of God than the crusaders -who, directed by an anthropomorphic -Deity, tortured and killed them. The -new pagan, who not only feels, smells, -hears, and sees the earth, but comprehends -the established scientific facts -about it, finds a keener and larger delight -and satisfaction in it than his forefathers -could experience. He loves it -with his heart and his mind. Having -this attitude toward it, he wishes to serve -it, prompted by the same motive which -actuates him when he serves his immediate -father and mother. -</p> - -<p> -Ruskin was sure that his beautiful -England was desecrated when steel rails -were laid across its green fields and factory -smoke contaminated the golden air; -he canonized the landscape, and when it -changed, his heart ached. He was an -artist, not a prophet. The industrialism -that he hated disseminated his written -appreciations of beauty. Machinery is -the extension of man’s personality and -power; the instrument with which he is -realizing the bounties and the Fatherhood -of God. At present it is too much -an end in itself instead of a means -toward nobler results, but tomorrow will -<a id="page-21" class="pagenum" title="21"></a> -see the needed adjustment. Wherefore -the new pagan is not saddened but gladdened -at the sight of factories and the -development of commerce. The awful -carnage which commercialism entails is -the price which we have been fated to -pay for experience. Through commerce -we are paving the way for the -action of the world-mind—the collective -thought of men. Collective thinking -precludes socialism as well as individualism, -and brings in humanism. The -increasing complexity of civilizations -symbolizes the enlarged intricacy of -human life. Experience and consciousness -are expanded by the maze of external -detail through which a child in a -modern state passes to maturity. The -extension of a more highly organized -civilization into every habitable region -of the earth, and commercial and intellectual -communication among all nations, -will synthesize the thought of the -world. Toward this goal every vital movement -is directed, whether consciously or -unwittingly. The germ of life was the -original leaven, and it will leaven the -whole lump. That races and states -should disappear does not matter; if human -life as a whole were to vanish the -birth-labor that the world has begun -would be retarded but not abandoned. -Man would return in a few billion years. -If not, a higher animal would; man himself -is on the long way to ever-new -heights. He has climbed up out of the -sea, and with the birth of reason in his -brain he began to ascend into loftier -realms. The power of reason is a late -acquisition, but it has provided the wondrous -banquet at which the modern pagan -feasts. It has enabled him literally -to soar and revel in high, thin air. -</p> - -<p> -All the fine arts are subsidiary to and -dependent upon material progress, and -the primal source of well-being is the -soil. Man is a land animal, and he must -have access to the land with the same -freedom that a babe enjoys at its -mother’s breast; otherwise he will be -stunted and dwarfed. The earth is the -Old Mother, yielding an abundance of -food for all her children. More reason -and more consciousness on their part -will induce them to share it with one another, -not like unreasoning pigs but like -reasoning men. The “new freedom” -means eventually the accessibility of the -earth to every man. In the meantime the -biggest business at hand is to build soils -as well as schools; to keep the land full -of sap; to extend mechanism into the -arts of agriculture; to unify the thought -and purpose of city and country. All -this will follow the world-mindedness -that is being developed by industrialism -and internationalism. -</p> - -<p> -All constructive thought and action -must deal not less with the city but more -and more with the country—the land. -Typical cities are sapping the wealth of -life that grows up round them. The -obsessed man in the market place needs -the poise and power of the shepherd on -the hill. The only true and durable -magnificence of a state lies in the equitable -use of its natural resources. No -man who has thought profoundly wants -to own land, but the majority of men do -want to use it. That ought to be every -man’s privilege, for every man is in some -fashion a lover of the verdant earth. But -even the millions of us who are landless, -because a few men legally own the earth, -have occasional esthetic accesses to it, -and if we passionately loved its beauty -we should hasten the day of its release -by an uneconomic monopoly. An intelligent -love of the earth as a living thing -<a id="page-22" class="pagenum" title="22"></a> -is at the bottom of the dynamic impulse -of man to be forever becoming. -</p> - -<p> -And as these lovely days of wanton -greenness steal like fairies into the secret -recesses of his child-heart, man has a -sense of eternal kinship with -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -... that small untoward class which knows -the divine call of the spirit through the brain, -and the secret whisper of the soul in the heart, -and for ever perceives the veils of mystery and -the rainbows of hope upon our human horizons; -which hears and sees, and yet turns wisely, -meanwhile, to the life of the green earth, of -which we are part, to the common kindred of -living things, with which we are at one—is -content, in a word, to live, because of the dream -that makes living so mysteriously sweet and -poignant; and to dream, because of the commanding -immediacy of life. -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="GLORIA_MUNDI"> -Gloria Mundi -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Eunice Tietjens</span> -</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">In what dim, half imagined place</p> - <p class="verse1">Does the Titanic lie to-day,</p> - <p class="verse1">Too deep for tide, too deep for spray,</p> - <p class="verse">In night and saltiness and space?</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Oh, quiet must the sea-floor be!</p> - <p class="verse1">And very still must be the gloom</p> - <p class="verse1">Where in each well-appointed room</p> - <p class="verse">The splendor rots unto the sea.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">Through crannies in the shattered decks</p> - <p class="verse1">The sea-weed thrusts pale finger-tips,</p> - <p class="verse1">And in the bottom’s jagged rips</p> - <p class="verse">With ghostly hands it waves and becks.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">The mirrors in the great saloons</p> - <p class="verse1">Sleep darkly in their gilt and brass</p> - <p class="verse1">Save when the silent fishes pass</p> - <p class="verse">With eyes like phosphorescent moons.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">On painted walls are slimy things,</p> - <p class="verse1">And strange sea creatures, lithe and cool,</p> - <p class="verse1">Spawn in the marble swimming pool</p> - <p class="verse">And shall, a thousand springs.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">For as it is, so it shall be,</p> - <p class="verse1">Untouched of time till Doom appears,</p> - <p class="verse1">Too deep for days, too deep for years</p> - <p class="verse">In the salt quiet of the sea.</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="THE_WILL_TO_LIVE"> -<a id="page-23" class="pagenum" title="23"></a> -The Will to Live -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">George Burman Foster</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">L</span><span class="postfirstchar">ike</span> the sense for the true, the good, -the holy, the esthetic sense is elementary. -Man comes to himself as man -in all alike. Without the effectuation of -his peculiar artistic impulse, man, the -born artist, could not find the real consecration -and dignity of the human. Indeed, -the worth of all human culture depends -upon the sense for the beautiful. -As religion is not restricted to some -fragment of our experience but informs -the whole, so culture requires that life -shall be beautiful down to the commonplace -and homely things of the daily -round. The new program, to which this -modern insight points, means a rebirth -of our entire moral and social life. -</p> - -<p> -Why is it, then, that those who vocationally -and constantly worship in the -sanctuary of art—the priests in this -sanctuary—often so easily and singularly -fail in the consecration which the -worship of beauty is supposed to supply -to the human personality? The lives of -those whose calling it is to exhibit and -exemplify the beautiful, why are they -often so very ugly, so bereft of lovable -emotions? The shortcomings of the -artist, why do we count among these the -pettiest and the basest known to man? -To be specific, why do we speak almost -proverbially of an artistic vanity, an -artistic sensitiveness, an artistic envy or -jealousy? If we answered, “Because the -shadows of the ‘human all too human’ -seem so dark in the golden light of the -artistic calling,” that would be true, but -it would not be the whole truth. Does -not the professional occupation of oneself -with art involve a danger to character? -To live constantly in the world -of the emotions, to fable and fantasy -and dream, in all this there is so easily -something weak, not to say “effeminate” -and sickly, and hence enervating. -Of great spirits this is true often enough—how -much more of the lesser who sophistically -find warrant in the weakness -of the great for the greatness of their -weakness! For instance, they have heard -of “inspiration”—something not under -the control of the artist, something that -must “come upon him,” but only when -the divine hour strikes, as it struck at -the pentecostal “outpouring” of the -“spirit” upon the early Christians. -Hence no care for a thousand things—in -both cases—for which other men -must care! Hence a standard of life -different from that by which other men -live! To be outwardly different from -others, to set oneself above others, that -is to be artistic. Because some great -artists are different from other people in -moods and manners and morals, it is -naïvely concluded that to emulate the latter -is to be the former, and right merrily -does the emulation go on. It must be a -grief to a real artist, this culture of the -eccentric head and the more eccentric -heart. Therefore we need a man to free -us from these eccentricities, a man to -lift us above these caricatures because -he has himself put them beneath his feet. -This man is <em>Friedrich Nietzsche</em>. -</p> - -<p> -The sickness and the soundness of -life, both these were in Nietzsche. In -his demand for an artistic culture he put -his finger upon the wound of present -humanity. This demand was accepted, -the meaning of the demand was lost -sight of. This was the fatality—as if -<a id="page-24" class="pagenum" title="24"></a> -Nietzsche required a new artistic culture -only, and not at the same time a new life -culture! Beauty the form of life indeed, -but strength, will, deed, the content—that -was the brave burden of the -prophet’s message. -</p> - -<p> -Nietzsche was born into a time that -marked the climax of a more than millennial -<em>cultus</em> of Death. The old songs -of death as bridge of sunset into the -eternal day of Bliss, songs of earthly -lamentation and heavenly yearning and -anticipation, these no longer came from -the heart, to be sure; though still sung, -the voices of “the faithful” grew ever -thinner and thinner; and the songs were -a monument of past piety rather than -a witness to a present. Like vice, this -earth which was once “a monster of so -frightful mien” was first endured, then -pitied, then embraced—and even wedded -by man; its sufferings were healed -and its delights enjoyed. The pain, the -pleasure of earth, what does it mean? -man’s heart again asked as it asked in -happy Greece long ago. But as time -went by, the human mind was bruised -and broken over this question, until it -concluded that all we call life is <em>a great -illusion</em>. And back and behind this life, -with its tumult and fitful fever, there is -the “vasty deep” of the infinite nothing. -Life is a cheat. And now there is <em>Weltschmerz</em>, -<em>Lebenschmerz</em>—simply a naturalistic -form of the old ecclesiastical -longing for death. It said the same -“No!” to life that the old church song -said—it, too, valued the day of death -higher than the day of birth; it, too, -urged that, since life is intrinsically evil, -the cure of the evil is to live as little -as possible. -</p> - -<p> -Into such a world Friedrich Nietzsche -was born, breathed its atmosphere, was -himself once drunk upon its drugged -drinks. The preacher of this modern -yearning for Nirvana,—<em>i.e.</em>, not metaphysical -non-existence but psychological -desirelessness,—was Schopenhauer as -well as his disciple von Hartmann. This -is the worst possible world, croaked -Schopenhauer; No, moaned von Hartmann, -it is not the worst possible world, -it is the best possible world, but it is -worse than none! And once Nietzsche -called Schopenhauer his teacher—went -forth as an enthusiastic apostle of the -message of passive resignation to the -inevitable sorry scheme of things, nay, -of the message that the world is the -work of an anguished god seeking redemption -from the infinite misery of existence -by the infinite negation of life. -</p> - -<p> -And surely the anguish of Nietzsche -fitted him, as no other, to be partner in -distress of this anguished god. Surely -he, if anyone, could say, To this end -was I born and for this purpose came I -into the world, to bear witness—to the -body of this death. From his mother’s -womb was he set apart to suffer. Endowed -with a transcendent and super-abundant -fulness of spirit, every fresh -and forceful impulse of his personality -he felt as an indictment of the inexorable -pitiless limitations within which his -best innermost life was imprisoned. He -was a voice crying in the wilderness, not -only to men, but to himself. Each new -flash of light which illumined his inner -eye let him see the graves upon which he -was treading, and revealed those who -claimed to be alive in the mask of the -death to which they had succumbed. In -the abounding wealth of youth he felt a -mortal sickness getting its grip upon -him. As life dragged on, he felt more -and more the hell tortures of pain from -which he had to wring his work every -hour of his existence. -</p> - -<p> -Who would have the effrontery to cast -a stone at this man had he flung down -<a id="page-25" class="pagenum" title="25"></a> -his arms into one of those graves, and -cried with an old philosopher: This -may all be very well for the gods, but -not for me! But he did not lay down -his arms! Freed from all encumbrances -of conscience and debilitating sense of -sin which had paralyzed the Christian, -and from the Schopenhauer <em>Welt- und -Lebenanschauung</em>, he welcomed all that -life had to offer and went unhesitatingly -toward the universal goal of annihilation -with a blithe and unregretting spirit. -Entertaining no illusions about indeterminism -or free-will or immortality, he rejoiced -in his strength, seized with avidity -the passing moment, and fell fighting to -the last. He spoke his courageous -“Yes!” to life, while Schopenhauer, -with his money and his mistress, and all -the world beside, were crying to him to -say “No!” For this we must thank -him. In this we find an antidote to present-day -tendencies to sink the individual -in the multitude, to subordinate men to -institutions, and to apotheosize mediocrity. -Nietzsche met pain with a power -which transformed even death into life, -and turned the day of his death even -into a festival of the soul. He taught -himself and he taught others to believe -in that power, which alone is great,—to -believe in the <em>Power of the Will</em>! Nietzsche, -like Jesus, proclaimed the inestimable -worth of the individual man, saw -for him vast and glorious possibilities, -sought the regeneration of society -through the regeneration of the individual. -Both committed the fortunes of -the cause to which they devoted their -lives to individuals and not to masses of -men. Both believed that the best was yet -to be. Both believed in the inwardness, -the self-dependence, and the autonomy -of personality. Neither ever side-stepped -or flinched. -</p> - -<p> -Today we are suffering from impuissant -personality, from cowardice, from -weakness of the will. Taming the great -wild strong instincts, making them small -and weak, choking them, so that man can -will nothing or do nothing great and -original and special—this is what we -call civilization. A comfortable existence, -this is the final end of life, according -to this civilization. No conflict, no -danger, for these menace comfort! Not -to know the comfort of a calm, safe -existence from which you can look down -upon the struggles in a neck-breaking -life far below—that is barbarism indeed! -And is not this comfort a virtue, -buttressed by moral principles at that? -So buttressed, one’s slumbers are not -disturbed. And may not one add to this -virtue of comfort that other cardinal -virtue of hatred of all that keeps matters -stirred up, all that causes unrest, -that causes sleepless nights and stormy -days? What the man of civilization -hates he calls “bad,” what he loves he -calls “good.” Accordingly, as Nietzsche -saw and said, the weak are the -“good” people, the brave and the -strong are the “bad.” Accordingly, -also, it is comfortable to be “moral.” -All one needs is to attune one’s life to -the “common run,” to quarantine -against every profound disturbance, to -steal by every dangerous abyss of life. -And if powers stir in man which do not -amiably submit to taming, why, “morality” -may be used as a whip to lash -these insubordinate stirrings into subjection. -And if the living heart -crouches into submission under the lash, -why, such crouching is called “virtue,” -and the daring to resist and escape -the lash, this of course is “vice.” In -a word, the most will-less is the most -virtuous. Thus—such was Nietzsche’s -<a id="page-26" class="pagenum" title="26"></a> -uncanny insight—“moral laws” are -devices for disciplining the will into -weakness! “Morality” is a poison with -which man is inoculated, so that his -strength may be palsied. “Morality” -is itself death to a man, a will to weakness, -a destruction of the will, while life -is a will to power, a will to self-affirmation. -</p> - -<p> -Every virtue has its double, easily -confounded with it, in reality the exact -opposite of it. Take meekness, peaceableness. -It is a virtue which the cowardly, -the over-cautious, arrogate to -themselves—those who duck and bow -and bend so as to give no offense, and -to conjure up no violent conflict. Yet -to be peaceable and meek is in truth -supreme strength, having one’s own -stormy heart under control, and being -absolutely sure of power over the militant -spirits of men. Humility is a sign -at once of smallness and of greatness. -Patience is at once a lazy lassitude and -an active steadfast strength. Chastity -may be reduced vitality, fear of disease, -fear of being found out, lack of opportunity, -slavery to respectability, poverty, -or it may be temperance and self-control -in satisfying sex-needs. And so -on. Every virtue may arise because a -man is too weak for the opposite. And -this virtue which walks the path of virtue -because it lacks the courage and -the strength not to do so, this complacent, -harmless, untempted virtue, men -make the universal criterion of all virtue, -the codex of their morality. Today -still the pharisee, not the publican, -the son who stupidly ate his fill in his -father’s house, not the “prodigal” who -hungered in the far country, heads the -scroll of the virtuous. To fear and -flee vice, or to “pass a law,” this is the -current solution of morality, dinged -into us from youth up, not to confront -vice, battle with it, conquer and coerce -it! -</p> - -<p> -So misunderstood Nietzsche thought. -He thought that the morality of “virtuous -people” was, in fact, a foe of life, -that the virtue of the weak was a grave -for the virtue of the strong, and that, -consequently the consciences of men must -be aroused so that they could see the -whole abomination of this, their virtue, -of which they were so proud. To bridle -and tame men is not to ennoble them; to -make men too weak and cowardly for -vice is not to make them strong and brave -for the good. This anxious and painful -slipping and winding and twisting -between virtue and vice, this cannot be -the fate of the future, the eternal destiny -of man; this is to make man the -eternal slave of man; to damn him in -his innermost and idiomatic life to the -lot of the eternal slave. Virtue and -vice are values which men mint, stamps -which men imprint upon their ever-changing -conduct, not eternal values, -born of life itself, sanctioned by the law -of life itself. As time goes on tables -of old values become sins. To obey -them, to have the law outside and not -inside us, is “to fall from grace” indeed. -A law of life cannot be on paper, -for paper is not living. Life must be -the law of life. Life must interpret -and reveal life. And life must be the -criterion of life. What makes us alive, -and strong, and mighty of will, is on -that account good; what brings death -and weakness, foulness and feebleness of -will is bad. The courage which in the -most desperate situation of life, in the -most labyrinthan aberration of thought, -dares to wring a new strength to live, -is good; all pusillanimity, all over-mastery -by pain, all collapse under the -burden of life, all disappointing desert -of the censure, “O ye of little faith, -<a id="page-27" class="pagenum" title="27"></a> -why are ye fearful?”—all this is bad. -It will be a new day for man when he -feels it wrong and immoral to lament his -lot, to whine, but right and moral to -earn strength from pain, a will to labor -from temptation to die. Not the fear -of the moral man to sin, but the fear to -be weak, so that one cannot do one’s -work in the world—that is to be the -fear in the future. The powerful will, -nay, the will become power itself, the -fixed heart, the keyed and concentrated -personality; this means freedom from -every slave yoke. And it means that life -is no longer at the mercy of capricious -and contingent gain and loss, but a -King’s Crown conquered in conflict with -itself, with man, and with God. -</p> - -<div class="filler"> -<p class="noindent"> -<em>Also sprach Nietzsche-Zarathustra!</em> -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="KEATS_AND_FANNY_BRAWNE"> -Keats and Fanny Brawne -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">By Charlotte Wilson</span> -</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">He tried to pour the torrents of his love</p> - <p class="verse">Into a tiny vase; a trinket—smooth,</p> - <p class="verse">Pretty enough—but fit to hold a rose</p> - <p class="verse">Upon some shrewd collector’s cabinet.</p> - <p class="verse">Toward that small moon the wild tides of his love</p> - <p class="verse">Reared up, and fell back, moaning; and he died</p> - <p class="verse">Asking his heart why love was agony.</p> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">And she? She loved the best she could, I think,</p> - <p class="verse">And wondered sometimes—but not overmuch—</p> - <p class="verse">At poor John’s queer, unseemly violence.</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="A_NEW_WOMAN_FROM_DENMARK"> -<a id="page-28" class="pagenum" title="28"></a> -A New Woman from Denmark -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -Marguerite Swawite -</p> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Karen Borneman</em>, by Hjalmar Bergström. -[Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">F</span><span class="postfirstchar">rom</span> the north, whence Ibsen’s Nora -challenged the world as far back as -1879, comes a fresh message of rebellion -in the more radical figure of Karen -Borneman. In judging this play of -Bergström’s, which has but now appeared -in Edwin Björkman’s translation, we -must remember that it was written in -1907—before we had grown so sophisticated -concerning the rebel woman in -her infinite manifestations. And yet, because -this vanguard of a new morality is -still a slender company, the addition of -a new member cannot fail to arouse a -ripple of excitement in the watchful rank -and file. For that reason, as well as for -some novel characteristics of her own, -Karen Borneman merits a word for herself. -</p> - -<p> -Bergström chose the most obvious -method of contrast in projecting his heroine -upon a background of stringent restraint. -Her father is Kristen Borneman, -a professor of theology whose chief -interest in life is the propagation of the -principles contained in his magnum opus, -<em>Marriage and Christian Morality</em>. Her -mother is an apparently submissive woman -who sometimes questions the edicts of her -husband. Her brother, Peter, is an adolescent -youth, already awake to the conflict -between the natural man and the -unnatural economic system, and seemingly -bound for destruction. Thora, her -young sister, is already seeking out the -clandestine outlet for an excessive and -dangerous sentimentality. Another sister, -Gertrude, has suffered a mental collapse -and is confined in an insane asylum. -These children, the author seems to say, -are the results of a chafing restrictive -discipline, and natural instincts gone -wrong—a conclusion weakened, not -strengthened by over-illustration. When -four of a family of eight show signs of -a similar abnormal development one suspects -not only the disciplinary system -but the purity of their inheritance. -</p> - -<p> -Be that as it may, the chief protagonist, -Karen, is quite a normal person—except -in the matter of courage, of which -she possesses an inordinate amount. But -then all new women are courageous to a -fault. She is a woman of twenty-eight, -mature, cultivated, and a successful professional -writer. Her most salient claim -to consideration in the early scenes of -the play is her quiet assurance in the -right of her position. She voluntarily -opens up her past to the professedly liberal -physician who seeks her hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Some years ago I—lived with a -man.... You are a widower yourself. -You may regard me as a widow or—a -divorced wife.” -</p> - -<p> -And when he spurns her action as -squalor, she indignantly replies, “Doctor, -how dare you. A phase of my life -that at least to me is sacred, and you -cast reflections on it, that—” -</p> - -<p> -There is a brevity, a terseness, about -her words that create greater sense of -her power than would any amount of -emotional pyrotechnics. In the later -scene with her father she is equally as -simple: -</p> - -<p> -“The sum and substance of it is this: -I have been married twice.... I mean -<a id="page-29" class="pagenum" title="29"></a> -that twice during my life—with years -between—I have given myself, body and -soul, to the man I loved, firmly determined -to remain faithful to him unto -death.” Then follows the recital of the -two love affairs—the first with a brilliant -but very poor journalist who died -prematurely, and the other with a sculptor, -Strandgaard, whom she left on the -discovery of his faithlessness. -</p> - -<p> -Her vision is of a time of greater freedom -for self-expression: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“... the day will come when we, too, will -demand it as our right—demand the chance -to live our own lives as we choose and as we -can, without being held the worse on that -account. Of course, I know that this is not an -ideal, but merely a makeshift meant to serve -until at last a time comes which recognizes the -right of every human being to continue its life -through the race.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Her justification is the characteristic -one: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“I have, after all, lived for a time during -those few years of youth that are granted us -human beings only once in our lifetime, and -that will never, never come back again. What -have these other ones got out of their enforced -duty and virtue except bitterness—bitterness -and emptiness? I have, after all, felt the fullness -of life within me while there was still -time, and I don’t regret it!” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -The clash with her father whom she -loves tenderly she accepts as inevitable -in spite of the pain it must bring them -both. The ecstasy of a great vision -softens to the note of personal loss as she -leaves him: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“Yes—I do pity you, father! Don’t think -my heart is made of stone. The sorrow I have -done you cannot be greater than the one I feel -within myself at this moment, when perhaps I -see you for the last time! But how can I help -that I am the child of a time that you don’t -understand? We have never wanted to hurt -each other, of course—but I suppose it is the -law of life, that nothing new can come into the -world without pain—” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Because Karen advocates a course generally -denoted by the term (of wretched -connotation) free love, she is not to be -confused with those of lesser fineness -who are fighting at her side. For instance, -with Stanley Houghton’s heroine -in <em>Hindle Wakes</em>. Anyone who sees in -Karen another Fanny Hawthorne, has -failed to understand Karen’s position. -She is a woman of culture and of ideals -in all matters of life, and especially in -that of the sex relationship. “I have -given myself, ...” she says, “to the -man I loved, firmly determined to remain -faithful to him unto death.” This is a -far cry from Fanny’s reply to Alan: -“Love you? Good heavens, of course -not! Why on earth should I love you? -You were just someone to have a bit of -fun with. You were an amusement—a -lark.” To Karen the relationship is justified -only by depth of passion, and she -entered it with as great a solemnity and -glow of consecration as did ever a serious -woman a church-made marriage. To -the many camp-followers of “established” -feminism, those who don or doff -their principles with the transient fashion,—to -them Karen must seem a -humorous, if not a pitiable figure. For -she dares to have beliefs and gallantly -cleaves to them. -</p> - -<p> -Karen, then, is a new woman in the -sense that in the moment of crisis she -did not accept as inevitable the reply of -convention, but weighed her need against -the law, and, finding the latter wanting, -fulfilled her need at the sacrifice of the -law. On the other hand, she is not of -those who break laws for the intrinsic -pleasure of destruction. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course,” she admits, “it would -have been ever so much more easy for -me if, while I was still young, some presentable -man, with all his papers in perfect -<a id="page-30" class="pagenum" title="30"></a> -order and a financially secure future, -had come and asked for me—” -</p> - -<p> -And she welcomes marriage with the -good Doctor Schou in an attitude unpleasantly -reactionary: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“... I believe every woman who has -reached a certain age—and you know I am -twenty-eight—will, without hesitation, prefer -a limited but secure existence by the side of an -honest man to the most unlimited personal freedom.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -And worst of all, she, who throughout -the play declares herself unconvinced of -guilt or stain, at the close of the first act -becomes quite mawkishly sentimental -over Heine’s pretty line, “May God forever -keep you so fair, and sweet, and -<em>pure</em>.” -</p> - -<p> -Because Karen exhibits these painful -inconsistencies, she is no less possible -or real or worthwhile. We who know -many women emerging in diverse odd -shapes from the travail of awakening -have discovered just as inconsistent a -combination of precipitation and reaction; -and thus will it ever be until we -have at length worked out our way to -the most serviceable harmony. It is for -this very reason that Karen is interesting: -she is no superwoman, but our own -imperfect sister. -</p> - -<p> -Of the other characters there is but -one deserving special comment—Karen’s -mother, who to me is the most remarkable -person Bergström has here created. -She confesses to her husband that she has -known for three years that Karen had -been living in Paris with Strandgaard, -but had kept the knowledge to herself -because it had been too late to interfere, -and because she did not regard the calamity -as others would have in her place. -From a terrible and bitter experience -with another daughter, Gertrude, who -had gone insane through the abrupt -breaking off of a long engagement which -had aroused primitive passion and left it -unfulfilled, Mrs. Borneman had reached -a revolutionary conclusion: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“... from that day I have—after a careful -consideration—done what I could to let -our children live the life of youth, sexually and -otherwise, in as much freedom as possible. The -result of your educational method, my dear -Kristen, is our poor Gertrude, who is now confined -in an insane asylum, as incurable. The -result of my method is Karen, I suppose. I -don’t know if it is very sinful to say so, but -I feel much less burdened by guilt than I should -if conditions were reversed.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -When Karen, however, defends her -course as an abstract ideal of “every -human being to continue its life through -the race,” and appeals to her mother to -understand, Mrs. Borneman retreats with, -“I wash my hands of it, Karen. I don’t -dare to think that far....” -</p> - -<p> -It was her motherhood that had forced -upon her the courage to overlook the -law, and not any desire to throw over -the old to set up a new law. The glory -of the new vision means nothing to her -in comparison with her husband’s suffering -to which she herself has added. -She is the promise of a new type—the -awakened mother. -</p> - -<p> -As for the play as a whole, it appears -to me that Mr. Bergström has tried to -say too much in the slight space of one -short play, for he has two distinct themes—the -right of woman to love and life, -and the relationship between marriage -and children. The first is the chief -theme, which is worked out in the story -of Karen; the second is too important -to be employed as a subsidiary thread, -and instead of adding richness to the first -it rather clutters and confuses it with -unnecessary baggage. Mrs. Borneman -pities one of her sons because he cannot -afford to have children on his slender -salary, and feels that her other son is not -justified in blindly bringing child after -<a id="page-31" class="pagenum" title="31"></a> -child into the world, depending upon the -rest of the family for their maintenance. -She asks her husband: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“So it is not enough for two people to live -together in mutual love?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, Cecilia, that has nothing to do with -marriage. What is so inconceivably glorious -about marriage is that, through it, God has delegated -His own creative power to us simple -human beings—that He has made us share His -own divine omnipotence.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -The poor professor is made consistent -to the point of absurdity, and the main -issue befogged, when he cries out to -Karen: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“And yet I could have forgiven you everything—your -wantonness and your defiance—if -you had taken the consequences and had a -child! If you had had ten illegitimate children—better -that than none at all! But you have -arrogantly defied the very commandments of -nature, which are nothing but the commandments -of God!” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Perhaps this matter was included for -the sake of Karen’s reply: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“Do you think I am a perfect monster of a -woman, who has never felt the longing for a -baby? Not <em>me</em> does your anger hit, but that -society which will not regard it as an inevitable -duty to recognize the right of every human -being to have children—as a right, mark you, -and not as a privilege reserved for the richest -and the poorest. There are thousands of us to -whom the right is denied—thousands of men -as well as women. But we, too, are human -beings, with love longings and love instincts, -and we will not let us be cheated out of the best -thing that life holds!” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Technically the play is not so perfect -a thing as Mr. Björkman’s unbounded -encomiums would make us believe. It -opens, for instance, in the good old fashion -scorned by Ibsen—with the gossip -of servants, who are here engaged in -laying the table instead of in the time-honored -task of dusting. The whole action -is cast within some eight hours, thus -causing a use of coincidence to the straining -point. The most commendable feature -of technique is the admirably sustained -suspense: the story of Gertrude -overshadows the entire piece from the -opening scene to Mrs. Borneman’s avowal -in the last act. The powerful use of the -story as contrast to Karen’s career is also -unusual. -</p> - -<p> -And yet in spite of its faults—perhaps -because of them—we have found <em>Karen -Borneman</em> the most stimulating play of -the year. We hope one of our two organizations -dedicated to the drama will -put it on in the near future. -</p> - -<div class="filler"> -<p class="noindent"> -When the ape lost his wits he became man.—<em>Viacheslav Ivanov.</em> -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article blank" id="EDITORIALS" title="Editorials"> -<a id="page-32" class="pagenum" title="32"></a> -</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="editorials"> -<h3 class="section" id="GALSWORTHYS_LITTLE_HUMAN_COMEDY"> -Galsworthy’s -Little Human Comedy -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -No magazine that comes to this -office is looked for more excitedly -than <em>Harper’s Weekly</em>. <em>Poetry and -Drama</em> is a quarterly event that keeps -us in a dignified intensity of expectation; -and there are others. But <em>Harper’s</em> -is a weekly adventure in the interest -of which we haunt the postman. -At present it is featuring a series -of sketches by Galsworthy—satirical -characterizations of those human beings -who pride themselves on being “different.” -Here is a man who knows himself -for a philosopher; here is an “artist”; -here is one of those rare individualities -so enlightened, so superior, so removed, -that there is only one label for him: -“The Superlative.” -</p> - -<p> -But it is in <em>The Philosopher</em> that -Galsworthy excels himself. It is probably -the most consummate satire that -has appeared in the last decade: -</p> - - <div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -He had a philosophy as yet untouched. -His stars were the old stars, his faith the old -faith; nor would he recognize that there was -any other, for not to recognize any point of -view except his own was no doubt the very -essence of his faith. Wisdom! There was -surely none save the flinging of the door to, -standing with your back against that door, -and telling people what was behind it. For -though he did not know what was behind, -he thought it low to say so. An “atheist,” -as he termed certain persons, was to him -beneath contempt; an “agnostic,” as he -termed certain others, a poor and foolish -creature. As for a rationalist, positivist, -pragmatist, or any other “ist”—well, that -was just what they were. He made no secret -of the fact that he simply could not understand -people like that. It was true. “What -can they do save deny?” he would say. -“What do they contribute to the morals and -the elevation of the world? What do they -put in place of what they take away? What -have they got, to make up for what is behind -that door? Where are their symbols? -How shall they move and leave the people?” -“No,” he said; “a little child shall lead -them, and I am the little child. For I can -spin them a tale, such as children love, of -what is behind the door.” Such was the -temper of his mind that he never flinched -from believing true what he thought would -benefit himself and others. Amongst other -things he held a crown of ultimate advantage -to be necessary to pure and stable living. -If one could not say: “Listen, children, -there it is, behind the door. Look at -it, shining, golden—yours! Not now, but -when you die, if you are good.”... If -one could not say that, what could one say? -What inducement hold out?... -</p> - - </div> -<p class="noindent"> -This is merely the first paragraph. -The rest is even better. Such an analysis -ought to extinguish the Puritan forever—except -that he won’t understand -it. He’ll think it was aimed at his -neighbor. He knows any number of -men like that.... -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="KNOWLEDGE_OR_PREJUDICE"> -Knowledge or Prejudice -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -A critic writes us that he finds no -fault with freedom of speech, and -that Emma Goldman’s disregard of ordinary -moral laws and blasphemy of -religion do not destroy the fact that she -exists. But such an article about her -as appeared in our last issue is well -calculated to make us appear absurd, he -thinks; it sounds like the oration of -some one who is just beginning to discover -the things that the world has -known always; and he closes with this -deliciously naïve question: “Do you -believe in listening respectfully to advocates -of free love, and, because of -their daring, applauding them?” -</p> - -<p> -Yes, we believe in listening respectfully -to any sincere programme; we -believe that is the only way people get -to understand things. We even believe -in listening seriously to insincere programmes, -because the insincere person -usually thinks he is sincere and helps -one to understand even more. By doing -all these things one is likely to reach -that altitude where “to understand all -is to forgive all.” -</p> - -<p> -As for “advocates of free love”—we -recall the impatient comment of a -well-known woman novelist: “When -<em>will</em> people stop using that silly, superfluous -phrase ‘free love’? We don’t -talk about ‘cold ice’ or ‘black coal’!” -</p> - -<p> -And, though our applause was not -confined to Emma Goldman’s daring, -<a id="page-33" class="pagenum" title="33"></a> -as our critic would probably concede, is -not daring a thing worthy of applause? -Just as conflict is better than mediation, -or suffering than security, daring is so -much more legitimate an attitude than -complacency. -</p> - -<p> -But it is that remark about “things -the world has known always” which -exasperates us the most. The world -has not known them always; it doesn’t -know them now. It has heard of them -vaguely—just to the point of becoming -prejudiced about them. And prejudice -is the first element that sneaks away -when knowledge begins to develop. If -the world represented by our critic -<em>knew</em> these things it might be roused to -daring, too. -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="RUPERT_BROOKES_VISIT"> -Rupert Brooke’s Visit -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -Rupert Brooke was in Chicago -for a few days last month. One of -the most interesting things to us about -his visit was that he so quickly justified -all the theories we have had about -him since we first read his poetry. -First, that only the most pristine freshness -could have produced those poems -that some people have been calling decadent; -second, that while he probably -is “the most beautiful young man in -England” it was rather silly of Mr. -Yeats to add that he is also “the wearer -of the most gorgeous shirts.” Because -Rupert Brooke doesn’t wear gorgeous -shirts; he appears to have very little -interest in shirts, as we expected. He -is too concerned with the big business -of life and poetry. He is, as a very -astute young member of our staff suggested, -somehow like the sea. -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="BOOKS_AND_THE_QUIET_LIFE"> -“Books and the Quiet Life” -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -George Gissing has always had -a peculiarly poignant place in our -galaxy of literary favorites, and nowhere -have we loved him more than in -that little “autobiography” which he -called <em>The Private Papers of Henry -Ryecroft</em>. The portions of that book -which have to do specifically with books -and reading have been brought together -by Mr. Waldo R. Browne and published -with Mr. Mosher’s usual incomparable -taste. -</p> - -<p> -A good many people have loved books -as well as George Gissing did, perhaps, -but very few of them have been able to -express that love like this: -</p> - - <div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The exquisite quiet of this room! I have -been sitting in utter idleness, watching the -sky, viewing the shape of golden sunlight -upon the carpet, which changes as the minutes -pass, letting my eye wander from one -framed print to another, and along the ranks -of my beloved books.... -</p> - -<p> -I have my home at last. When I place a -new volume on my shelves, I say: Stand -there whilst I have eyes to see you; and a -joyous tremor thrills me.... -</p> - -<p> -For one thing, I know every book of mine -by its <em>scent</em>, and I have but to put my nose -between the pages to be reminded of all -sorts of things.... -</p> - -<p> -I regard the book with that peculiar affection -which results from sacrifice ... in -no drawing-room sense of the word. Dozens -of my books were purchased with money -which ought to have been spent upon what -are called the necessities of life. Many a -time I have stood before a stall, or a bookseller’s -window, torn by conflict of intellectual -desire and bodily need. At the very -hour of dinner, when my stomach clamored -for food, I have been stopped by sight of a -volume so long coveted, and marked at so -advantageous a price, that I <em>could</em> not let it -go; yet to buy it meant pangs of famine. -My Heyne’s <em>Tibullus</em> was grasped at such -a moment. It lay on the stall of the old -book-shop in Goodge Street—a stall where -now and then one found an excellent thing -among quantities of rubbish. Sixpence was -the price—sixpence! At that time I used -to eat my mid-day meal (of course, my dinner) -at a coffee-shop in Oxford Street, one -of the real old coffee-shops, such as now, I -suppose, can hardly be found. Sixpence -was all I had—yes, all I had in the world; -it would purchase a plate of meat and vegetables. -But I did not dare to hope that -the <em>Tibullus</em> would wait until the morrow, -when a certain small sum fell due me. I -paced the pavement, fingering the coppers -in my pocket, eyeing the stall, two appetites -at combat within me. The book was -bought and I went home with it, and as I -made a dinner of bread and butter I gloated -over the pages. -</p> - - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="NEW_YORK_LETTER"> -<a id="page-34" class="pagenum" title="34"></a> -New York Letter -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">George Soule</span> -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">H</span><span class="postfirstchar">ilaire</span> Belloc is coming to -America next fall for a lecturing -tour. It is well to take stock of him, so -that we shall know what to expect. He -is clever, and a Catholic—that tells the -whole story. We don’t know exactly -how he will say it, but we know what he -will say. Through various smiling subtleties -and paradoxes he will attack democracy, -feminism, socialism, individualistic -rebellion of any kind. It is quite -possible that he will aim a few careless -shots at Montessori, the discussion of sex -questions in public, Galsworthy, and Bernard -Shaw. He is a masculine, English, -Agnes Repplier. He will entertain his -cultivated audiences, and give them the -impression that he is very modern and -daring. -</p> - -<p> -It is curious how the thinking mind -immediately discounts the testimony of -one who is known to have given his allegiance -to an embracing authority of any -kind. Whether the authority in question -is the Vatican, Karl Marx, Business, -Nietzsche, or Theodore Roosevelt, we -know the man’s whole mind is likely to -be colored with it, and that the evidence -is probably of less importance to him -than his case. Yet there is always a -moral suspicion against the man who refuses -to enroll himself under any banner. -He seems dead, inhuman, academic. -March to the drums, salute the colors, or -admit there is no blood in you! It is -good that most of mankind does so. The -strongest army (not necessarily the largest) -will win, and the battle must come -for the sake of the victory. -</p> - -<p> -Therefore, let the radicals welcome -Mr. Belloc as a good enemy. He stands -for a sincere, highly organized, and powerful -propaganda which cannot be ignored -on the modern battlefield. On account -of their worship of authority the -Catholics have a solidarity which no -other movement can boast. For the -same reason they are doomed to an eternal -enmity with adventurous souls, those -who fight for change of any kind. They -seem often to be in accord with advancing -thinkers because they condemn present -conditions. But closer investigation -will always show that instead of pointing -to the future they cling to the past. -Mgr. Benson, during his recent visit to -New York, stated in private conversation -that present social conditions are intolerable. -He went on to say that an ideal -society can be attained only under feudalism, -with the church in control. -</p> - -<p> -There will be no more danger from -the Catholics than from any other army -as long as we know what they are fighting -for, and are able to recognize their -irregular troops. -</p> - -<p> -But let there be no complacency -among the enemies of the church on the -ground that it may not be really in the -field, or has not artillery when it gets -there. Without investigation of any -kind, I have heard of two books attacking -the church which were suppressed by -their publishers at the demand of Catholic -authorities. In each case the weapon -was a threat to withdraw an extensive -text book business from the house in -question. Naturally, the parties to the -matter have not been anxious to give it -publicity. A magazine which published -an article displeasing to Catholics received -a letter threatening it with black-listing. -<a id="page-35" class="pagenum" title="35"></a> -There appears to be a well organized -and efficient church publicity bureau -to attend to these and other matters. -A proposal was recently made by a Catholic -journal that priests in confessional -impose as penance the subscription to -Catholic papers and the purchase of -Catholic books, at the same time warning -the people against secular publications. -This was discussed with some approval -by <em>America</em>, the New York Jesuit weekly, -which regretfully admitted, however, -that in the end Catholic publications -must depend “mainly on their merit.” -We are likely to ignore such mediæval -methods until we find them obstructing -some actual movement of importance. -They do obstruct such movements, however, -sometimes very annoyingly. -</p> - -<p> -All these methods are but the natural -and blameless working of the doctrine of -intolerance. And perhaps their greatest -danger is that their temporary success -will induce the opposing armies to use -the same weapon and so shackle themselves. -The intolerance of the Puritan -was a natural result of his bitter struggle, -yet it produced a century of aesthetic -darkness. The advanced opponents -of the Puritan era are now uttering pronunciamentos -and personalities that are -Archiepiscopal in their intolerance. -</p> - -<p> -But, you say, intolerance is necessary -in the soldier. He must hate his enemy -and seek not only to dislodge but to -silence his opponent. Well, I will admit -that when the soldier is in battle he must -shoot to kill. But there is a new kind of -soldier developing who is more valuable -to man than the old. He joins the army -not so much because of the magic of the -colors as because of the necessity of the -cause and its temporary usefulness in -serving the truth behind it. Just as he -will not march to war without reason, so -he will stop fighting his immediate enemy -when his cause is won, and will not go on -to bickering and pillage. He is ready to -enlist under a new banner at any moment -when a new banner represents a more -glorious cause than the old. His General -is not a god, but a leader. His freedom -of choice is always the biggest asset of -his strength. Therefore he cannot be intolerant. -He is strong, hard, efficient, -relentless, but never pompous or slavish. -How much time the world has lost eliminating -armies of strong men whose fatal -fault was excessive, unreasoning loyalty! -</p> - -<p> -That, after all, solves the riddle of my -second paragraph. And if the soldier -must subordinate his cause to his truth, -how much more so the General and the -King! The General has very little time -to hate his enemy. He must know their -strength, study their methods, adopt the -best of their ideas, spy out the country, -plan a campaign. He orders slaughter -not for revenge or hatred, but for success. -Therefore it is of supreme importance -that his success be worth while. -</p> - -<p> -And the King, the man who selects the -cause and fires men to battle. The nearer -he comes to an assertion of infallibility -the surer is the final defeat of his cause. -If he will allow no room for change and -growth, change and growth will sweep -him aside. We need big men who will -not enlist under colors, but are always -pushing back the horizon of truth. Distrust -the leader who has found the final -answer to the riddle. Some day shall we -not have a Messiah who shall begin by -saying: “Do not found in my name any -church, cult, or school. If a man question -my message, listen to him closely and -learn what truth he has. Always seek -the new, the more perfect. Always grow -out from the fixed. So shall you begin a -race of Kings greater than I.” -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="CORRESPONDENCE"> -<a id="page-36" class="pagenum" title="36"></a> -Correspondence -</h2> - -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="MISS_COLUMBIA_AN_OLD-FASHIONED_GIRL"> -Miss Columbia: An Old-Fashioned Girl -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -That the United States of America is -young is a truism which needs no stating, -and unfortunately its youth is hopelessly -fettered in the strings of tradition. -</p> - -<p> -Ferrero says that aesthetic taste in -America shows itself in bathrooms; and -certainly in plumbing we do seem to have -a taste above that of the rest of the -world. In other things America fears -originality and change far more even -than England does. Miss Columbia is a -bright girl, sitting in a schoolroom, with -well-worn editions of the English classics -on the book-shelves. Miss Columbia -writes verses and stories following the -most approved models; she succeeds -rather well, but, after all, they are only -school essays. It seems impossible for -Americans to have the courage to admit -that Life is as they see it. Hence the -shallow and frivolous optimism which -hangs like an obscuring fog over practically -all our writing. It would be a -convention were it not that we think we -believe it; it would be a conviction only -that we never look at it close enough to -test it. The vogue, a year or two ago, -of Mr. Robert Haven Schauffler’s <em>Scum -o’ the Earth</em> is a case in point. It deals -with the problem of immigration, not as -it is, but as it might be if it were. The -poem is imitative as art, and false as life, -but it flatters an existing condition, and -paints a sore to represent healthy flesh; -wherefore America hails it with content. -Americans are afraid of Life, in the Victorian -manner. A Catholic said to me, -some time ago: “Sex is dirty.” This -sacrilege is a thoroughly Victorian sentiment, -but sex alone does not come under -the ban; pain, squalor, and, above all, -the fact that virtue and effort frequently -go unrewarded, are facts to which, in -America, one must shut one’s eyes. -Miss Columbia is very young, and her -gold must be minted before she recognizes -it; in the matrix it looks insignificant -to her inexperienced eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Style is not manner, but personality. -And the fact that our poets and story -writers keep to the old forms and expressions -proves (does it not?) that they -have no inward urging which makes them -find old molds too cramping. -</p> - -<p> -In a play of George Cohan’s, <em>Broadway -Jones</em>, you have the best of middle-class -America—its good points and its -limitations. Perhaps this is even better -brought out in his other play, <em>Get-Rich-Quick -Wallingford</em>. “Crude,” you say; -“childish!” Quite true, but entirely and -absolutely America. For the United -States is governed by the Great God: -<em>Mediocrity</em>! The middle-class, or, as we -call him, “the man in the street,” rules. -Neither the gaunt simplicities of the -lower class (although we talk a great -deal about the lower class), nor the simplicities -of the educated and intellectually -alert, can leaven the lump of self-satisfied -commonplaceness. Not only don’t we -know, but we don’t want to know. An -American writer, who had lived in Europe -long enough to forget the peculiar -American temper, was sufficiently ingenuous -as to propose to the editor of one of -our best-known magazines a series of -three articles on six contemporary -French poets. They were refused, because -his clientèle did not care to read -<a id="page-37" class="pagenum" title="37"></a> -of things of which they knew nothing. -“They will know less than I,” said the -editor, “and I have only heard of two -of these names.” -</p> - -<p> -We are a little better off as regards -our musical taste, because music is a universal -language, and we can hear music -in the “original,” so to say. In music, -again, our output is more in accordance -with the spirit of the whole world. -</p> - -<p> -This does not mean that there are not -good writers in America. There are. -But most of them write “<em>dans le goût -d’avant-hier</em>.” I am only telling you -that Miss Columbia is in her artistic -’teens, and is as unimaginatively conventional -as is the human animal at the same -age. And, again like the human animal, -she was not so childish when she was a -baby. Paul Revere, riding across the -Middlesex Fells to rouse the minute men, -was like any adult man on a job which he -shrewdly suspects will change the fate of -nations. Poe and Whitman were not exactly -childish. But were Poe writing -today, he would be told that his subjects -were “unimportant” and that he “lacked -social consciousness.” For we in America -are suffering from a pathological -outlook on the world. Our activities -function along the line of preventive -medicine for communities. The richness -and variety of personality is lost sight of -in the lump. We forget that admirable -truth set forth in the poem beginning -“Little drops of water.” -</p> - -<p> -And then, too, poor America is so -many different kinds of persons and -places. What we are going to be lies on -the lap of the Gods. But it seems quite -clear that, whatever it is, it will not be -Anglo-Saxon. -</p> - -<p> -Go to any vaudeville theatre and you -will see Americans “turkey-trotting” to -an intricately syncopated music we have -dubbed “rag-time.” No European can -dance it with just that zip and swing. -It is a purely American thing. Stop a -minute! Do you realize that this is -America’s first original contribution to -the arts! Low or high, that is not the -point; it is America’s own product, and -for that reason I regret to see the tango -superseding it, although the tango is a -better dance. I am told by those who -know, that dancing is the first art practised -by primitive peoples. I believe -that in our “turkey-trotting” and “rag-time” -we have the earliest artistic gropings -of a new race. Our musicians scorn -“rag-time,” and it takes the clear eye of -a Frenchman to see its interest. Debussy -has seen it in his <em>Minstrels</em>. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">Amy Lowell.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="POETRY_TO_THE_UTTERMOST"> -Poetry to the Uttermost -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -We are afraid. We are all horribly -afraid. The seal of poetic propriety is -laid upon our lips, the burden of tradition -bows us down. Crouched and abject -beneath the dominance of the slave-driver, -gap-toothed Custom, we set our -shoulders to the toil—the useless toil—of -dragging through the mile-years -of simoom-whipped sand the impassive -statue of Mediocrity. -</p> - -<p> -What, if the vulture scream above us, -can we dare to tell the meaning of its -<a id="page-38" class="pagenum" title="38"></a> -cry? Sharp will descend the whip of circumstance -to warn that otherwhere the -nightingales are singing under a full-orbed -moon and we must sing of them. -</p> - -<p> -Does an all-reckless slave defy his -Maker with a thunderbolt of blasphemy, -forged in the furnace of his agony? -Straight comes the penalty decreeing -silence and neglect unless we chant apocalyptic -anodynes. -</p> - -<p> -If the challenge of the blood outbeats -the clanging of the bonds and in the -glowing dusk man and woman cling to -each other until the uttermost is won, -shall this be told in paean and in song? -Not unless social usage has been satisfied -and it be ascertained that desire has -given place to design, that love has been -exchanged for lucre, and that marriage -has been substituted for mating; then -are we bidden cull from the common-casket -of permitted phrases the veil, the -orange-flower wreath, and all the weary -paraphernalia of convention, and write -an epithalamium to the plaudits of the -admiring throng. -</p> - -<p> -Rituals began in poetry. And since -all rituals today have lost most of their -ancient power, serving to soothe and -charm instead of to stir and challenge, -we look to the poetry of today to lay the -web whereon the rituals of the future -shall be spun. Let not that web possess -one strand of mediocrity. Platitudinizing -is no pattern for the future. If we -are fain to cry aloud, let our throats -crack thereat; if we would hurl defiance, -let us not fear to charge after our javelins -and find our freedom in the breach -ourselves have made. -</p> - -<p> -Every true poet has the uttermost -within, if he or she will but give it voice. -Oh, poets of every craft, give of the uttermost! -Better a single cry like <em>The -Ballad of Reading Gaol</em>, like <em>Bianca</em>, like -<em>When I am dead and sister to the dust</em>—to -touch on a few moderns only—than a -lumber-loft of pretty and tuneful voicings -of the themes that please but do not -satisfy. There are those of us who read -whose blood runs hot and red as well as -yours. Dare, O you poets of every -craft! Rise to the cry! Your hearts are -high and full of gallantry, the world is -waiting to be led by you to heights before -unscaled. Shake cowardice away -and dare! -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">Francis Rolt-Wheeler.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="REFLECTIONS_OF_A_DILETTANTE"> -Reflections of a Dilettante -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -All art is symbolical. A mere presentation -of things as they are seen by -our physical eye is photography, not art. -Yet there exists a Symbolistic school -in contradistinction to other currents -such as Realism, Impressionism, Neo-Romanticism, -etc. Is not this a misnomer? -Can we say, for instance, that -Beaudélaire’s <em>Fleurs du Mal</em> were symbols, -while Goethe gave us but realistic -reproductions of actual life? Should -we exclude Whitman from the Symbolists -for the reason that his poems -are less fantastic, nearer to life than -those of Poe? What about Vereshchagin: -was not his brush symbolistic because -he adhered to realistic methods? -Obviously, an artist presents not objects -<a id="page-39" class="pagenum" title="39"></a> -but ideas, and the symbolisticity of a certain -work of art is rather a question of -method and degree. -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps we should differentiate artists -according to their relationship with and -attitude towards the public. The realist—and -under this elastic term we may -understand likewise the romanticist and -the impressionist—is definite in his interpretation -of life, is outspoken and -clear in conveying his conceptions; he -drags us unto his point of view, makes -us see through his eyes and take for -granted his impressions. He says to us: -“Thus I see the world. Thus life and -nature are reflected in my mind. This is -precisely what I mean; please do not misinterpret -me.” We are bound to obey; -the artist—provided he is a real artist—forces -upon us his eyeglasses, and we -follow his directions. -</p> - -<p> -The purely Symbolistic artist, on the -other hand, grants freedom to the public. -Vague tones, dim outlines, abstract figures, -imperceptible moods, misty reflections, -make his art unyielding to a definite -interpretation. All he imposes upon -us is an atmosphere, into which we are -invited to come and co-create. Here is a -canvas, here are colors, here are moods; -go ahead and make out of them what you -like. We are thus left to our own guidance; -we are enabled to put our ego into -the artist’s work, we are free to find in it -whatever reflections we choose and to -form our own conceptions. If we succeed -in solving the problem, if we make -the symbol live in our imagination, we -experience the bliss of creation; should -we fail in our task, should the symbol -remain meaningless to us, we conclude -that the given atmosphere is alien to our -mind. Music of all arts is the most symbolical. -True, Wagner and Strauss have -endeavored to impose upon the listener -<em>leit-motifs</em>, to dictate the public an interpretation -of specific tones, but they have -failed in their attempts to introduce a -sort of a “key” to music; we remain -autonomous in “explaining” <em>Siegfried</em> -and <em>Don Quixote</em>. -</p> - -<p> -Which of the methods is preferable? -I should resent any narrow decision on -this point. A crystalline September day -or a purple-crimson sunset, how can we -choose? We delight in both, but in one -case we admire the visible beauty, while -in the other we make one step forward -and complement the seen splendor with -strokes of our creative imagination. -Perhaps my non-partisanship is due to -my dilettantism; as it is, I approach a -book or a picture with one scale: is it a -work of art? If it is, then any method -is justifiable, no matter how differently it -may appeal to the individual taste. -</p> - -<p> -Yet—and there is no inconsistency in -my statement—I do discriminate in art -productions in so far as my personal affections -are concerned. Great as my delight -is in the arts of Tolstoi and Zola, -of Rubens and Corot, of Brahms and -Massenet, of Pavlova and Karsavina, my -mind is more akin to the mystic utterances -of Maeterlinck and Brusov, to the -hazy landscapes of Whistler and to the -unreal women of Bakst, to the narcotic -music of Debussy and Rachmaninov, to -the wavy rhythm of Duncan and St. -Denis. It is with them, with the latter, -that I erect fantastic castles of my own -designs and find expression of my moods -and whims. I may not understand all of -the Cubists and Futurists, but I owe -them many new thoughts and emotions -which I had not realized before having -seen the new art. Schoenberg’s pieces -still irritate my conventional ear, but I -allow him credit for discovering new possibilities -in the region of sound interpretation. -We, plain mortals, who are -doomed to contemplate art without having -<a id="page-40" class="pagenum" title="40"></a> -the gift to contribute to it, we are -envious of genius and crave for freedom -in co-creating with the artist. Hence my -love for Bergson who appeals to the creative -instinct of man; for him I abandoned -Nietzsche, my former idol: it is -so much more pleasant and feasible to be -a creative being than to strive to become -a perfect super-being. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">Alexander S. Kaun.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_IMMORTALITY_OF_THE_SOUL"> -The Immortality of the Soul -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -Bergson argues that there is a spiritual -entity behind all science and that -it is impossible for scientists to go beyond -a certain point in developing a -knowledge of whence we came. Clara E. -Laughlin, in writing a review of <em>The -Truth about Woman</em>, by Mrs. Walter -M. Gallichan, accuses the writer of possessing -a short-sighted, astigmatic vision -of “whereuntoness.” She winds up her -discussion with the sob of an ultra religionist -by accusing Mrs. Gallichan of having -left out a most important point in -her discussion—that of the immortality -of the soul. To quote Miss Laughlin -exactly: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -But if, as most of us believe, we are more -than just links in the human chain; if we have -a relation to eternity as well as to history and -to posterity, there are splendid interpretations -of our struggles that Mrs. Gallichan does not -apprehend. If souls are immortal, life is more -than the perpetration of species, or even than -the improvement of the race; it is the place allotted -to us for the development of that imperishable -part which we are to carry hence, -and through eternity. And any effort of ours -which helps other souls to realize the best that -life can give, to seek the best that immortality -can perpetuate, may splendidly justify our -existence. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Very fortunately for the future of her -book, Mrs. Gallichan ignores the religionist -except to say of religion, “I am -certain that in us the religious impulse -and the sex impulse are one.” -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Gallichan’s book is a scientific -discussion of woman yesterday and -today, without any attempt at sentimentalism. -Her analysis is perfect and decidedly -constructive. She goes back to -prehistoric times and discusses in scientific -phraseology how woman has progressed -through the ages, and describes -the part she has taken in establishing -civilizations. Nowhere does she forget -that she is writing for posterity and indulge -in the petty foibles that are sometimes -so noticeable in the work of women -who write on feminism. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">Lee A. Stone.</span> -</p> - -<p class="note"> -[The question of whether whatever it is that -is meant by the word <em>soul</em> is immortal—immortal -in the sense that it will live forever in -a realm of the spirit or the blessed—is answered -affirmatively by those who hold to the -orthodox faith, is not worth discussing by a -rational man who is informed, and is discussed -by avowed or implied atheists with a fanatical -seriousness that destroys whatever force their -main contention may have. The legitimate -domain of argument is limited; truth that is -verifiable by men here and now is its only content. -As regards what uncritical people call -“immortality” serious argumentation is absolutely -impossible. Faith, quotations, and -personal desires are not arguments. Mrs. Gallichan’s -book is in parts scientific, and is therefore -of importance to thousands of people -whose religion is an achievement of courageous -thinking and living. To many excellent persons -their professed belief in what they term -“immortality” is a kind of merciful necessity. -They crave and even invent assurances of it. -To such persons there is no argument against -it. To persons who produce the “negative” -arguments there is no argument for it. And -there you are!—W. C. D.] -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="BOOK_DISCUSSION"> -<a id="page-41" class="pagenum" title="41"></a> -Book Discussion -</h2> - -</div> - -<h3 class="section" id="DOSTOEVSKYPESSIMIST"> -Dostoevsky—Pessimist? -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>The Possessed</em>, by Fyodor Dostoevsky. -[The Macmillan Company, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">S</span><span class="postfirstchar">hatov</span> was an incorrigible idealist, -with a keen satirical ability to destroy -his own ideals. He had made a god out -of Verhovensky, the leading figure in -Dostoevsky’s <em>The Possessed</em>. Verhovensky -was, he imagined, a god of selfish -courage and supreme unconcern, the sort -of man whom everybody followed involuntarily. -Shatov knew that his hero had -irreparably injured three women, one of -them half-witted and defenseless. That -did not bother the idealist at all; it was -“in character.” But when Verhovensky -lied about it to avoid condemnation, -Shatov hit him a savage blow on the -cheek and brooded for weeks over the -disappointment. The disappointment -was deepened by the fact that Verhovensky -did not kill him for the blow. -</p> - -<p> -There is something characteristically -Russian about that. It goes far to explain -Russian pessimism, and give the -key to this very book. Your Russian -wants above all things to be logical. He -will fasten upon an idea and enshrine it -in his holy of holies. He will relentlessly -follow the dictates of his idea though it -lead him to insanity. There is greatness -in his attitude, also absurdity. Witness -Tolstoy. And when he recognizes his -own absurdity he becomes gloomy and -savage; there is no escape from the -vanity of the world, the spirit, and -himself. -</p> - -<p> -I can imagine the mood of Dostoevsky -when this book germinated in his mind. -He saw this trait in the people about -him, he felt it in himself. The intellectuals, -each with his little theory, were -steadily working towards—nothing at -all. The government with its elaborate -systems for economic improvement and -individual repression, the revolutionary -with his scheming insincerity and chaotic -program, were equally futile. The -women with their pathetic loves, the frivolous -with their mad pursuit of amusement, -the great and the small, the sycophant -and the rebel, were all bitter failures. -Suddenly it occurred to him—they -are all mad in an insane world, each -in his way, one no more than another. I -will vent my disgust with these vermin -in a book; I will show what they really -are. Like the madman who carefully -traces out his meaningless labyrinth, I -will with the most painstaking psychology -unravel their minds, and in so doing -I will find my release and my fiendish -joy. The only thing lacking in this -madhouse is complete self-consciousness. -That I will furnish.—And so Dostoevsky -logically and nobly followed his idea -to its insane conclusion. -</p> - -<p> -The fascinating result cannot be described -in a paragraph. It is done, of -course, with consummate ability. Beginning -the book is like walking into a village -of unknown people. They are real -enough outwardly; you don’t know their -nature or direction. Little by little you -learn about them, and begin to take -sides. Long habit makes you pick favorites. -This man will be noble and successful; -perhaps he is the hero. Suddenly -you begin to suspect that something -<a id="page-42" class="pagenum" title="42"></a> -is wrong. All things are not working -together for one end, as in well-regulated -novels. Your favorites become -jumbled up with the others. The author -doesn’t give you a chance, because he -never shows you a cross-section of a -mind. He merely tells what the people -do and say. You must draw your own -conclusions as in ordinary life. When -you get used to this, you see an occasional -subtlety, a flash of sardonic laughter. -Some of the people are not quite -right in their minds. And at length the -truth dawns; the sane people are even -crazier than the others! This impression -comes by sheer force of magic; how the -author creates it is inexplicable. But -once you have it, the fascination of following -an idea obsesses you. And at the -end it is impossible to find any meaning -or direction in the world. -</p> - -<p> -Of course, no such obsession can find a -firm footing in the American temperament. -After a while it seems Russian -and incredible. If you can’t answer -Dostoevsky logically, you will abandon -logic. But he has stirred you up, and -certain important conclusions rise to the -surface. -</p> - -<p> -One is that it would be impossible to -be such a pessimist unless one looked for -a good deal in the world, and looked for -it rather sharply. Idealism and courage -began this course of thought. Isn’t a -big share of our optimism shallow? -Shouldn’t we go a little deeper into -things before being so sure they are -right? Another is that no living individual -is worth very much, after all. Our -only salvation is in creating a nobler -race. And for that any sacrifice of present -individuals is supremely worth while. -</p> - -<p> -It is as if some inspired member of a -negro tribe in central Africa had suddenly -awakened to the fact that his voodoo-worshipping -friends were not acting -rationally. From their status the burden -of his chant might be horrible for its -devilish revelations. But in our eyes he -would be a seer and a prophet. Why -should he have considered the feelings of -the miserable savages? There is something -more important than that! -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">George Soule.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_SALVATION_OF_THE_WORLD_Y_LA_WELLS"> -The Salvation of the World à la Wells -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Social Forces in England and America</em>, by H. G. Wells. -[Harper and Brothers, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">L</span><span class="postfirstchar">ike</span> many philosophers, Mr. Wells is -concerned mainly with the need of a new -human race. All profound reformers -want that. The method of achieving -this desirable result is, however, the rock -of turning. It probably isn’t necessary -to say that our present reformer is not -one of those blind apostles of effortless -immediacy. Such transmution was respectable -when Botany Bay was a popular -seaside resort for radical poets and -philosophers. They of today realize -something of the immensity of the developmental -process. Their hopes are -often so remote that they seem almost -despair, but still time is trusted with a reliance -on science for the urge toward human -perfectibility. Of such the leader is -H. G. Wells. -</p> - -<p> -Clearly the conviction that civilization -<a id="page-43" class="pagenum" title="43"></a> -needs a new race is well founded. All -ideals, all ideas, civilization, culture are -and have always been the products of a -pitiful minority. The tendency at present -is toward making the desire of the -majority supreme. The majority do not -cleave toward ideals—not even toward -establishing their own glory. Rousseau -imagined that millions loved righteousness; -Jefferson made such beliefs the -basis of the country’s documents of incorporation. -The idealists were manifestly -mistaken. Men have never been -drawn toward the ideals they have professed. -Truth, justice, equality have -never been valued when sex, property, or -power were opposed. The virtues came -in the early days from “Thus saith the -Lord,” and they come today, if they -come at all, from “Thus saith a Strong -Man.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Wells guesses that there are fifty -thousand reading and thinking persons -in England—keepers of the citadel. -The fifty thousand are practically England. -Perhaps his estimate is too low. -John Brisben Walker says that in the -United States the number of persons -able to think independently about political -and social matters has increased from -a few score to about two hundred and -fifty thousand within thirty years. The -fact is, albeit, that the world has been -fashioned always by this very small -minority. Furthermore the present creation -is not one in which there is reason -for great pride. -</p> - -<p> -The essay on the Great State is especially -fine in this connection. Wells’s -idea of the Normal Social Life and of -the constant divergence of a minority -is altogether clarifying for the watcher -from any vantage, but it is in his discussion -of the labor unrest that the reader -in Colorado discovers the prophecies he -most needs. For illustration this: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The worker in a former generation took himself -for granted; it is a new phase when the -toilers begin to ask, not one man here and -there, but in masses, in battalions, in trades: -“Why, then, are we toilers, and for what is -it that we toil?” -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -The ruling minority in Colorado has -been confronted with this question during -the coal strike. So far no response -has been given save the impromptu -utterances of a hideous rage and fright -at the thought of awakening workers. -</p> - -<p> -Wells answers his own questions. He -replies as Colorado will sometime if Colorado -is to persist. It is in this tone: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The supply of good-tempered, cheap labor—upon -which the fabric of our contemporary ease -and comfort is erected—is giving out. The -spread of information and the means of presentation -in every class and the increase of luxury -and self-indulgence in the prosperous classes -are the chief cause of that. In the place of -the old convenient labor comes a new sort of -labor, reluctant, resentful, critical, and suspicious. -The replacement has already gone so -far that I am certain that attempts to baffle -and coerce the workers back to their old conditions -must inevitably lead to a series of increasingly -destructive outbreaks, to stresses -and disorder culminating in revolution. It is -useless to dream of going on now for much -longer upon the old lines; our civilization, if -it is not to enter upon a phase of conflict and -decay, must begin to adapt itself to the new -conditions, of which the first and foremost is -that the wage earning laboring class, consenting -to a distinctive treatment and accepting -life at a disadvantage, is going to disappear. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -That is the truth which men hate -most to hear. It is the doctrine which -“Mother” Jones preaches and for -which she has been imprisoned regardless -of laws and constitutions. -</p> - -<p> -But this reasonableness of Wells appeals -as little to the left wing of the -socialists as it does to conservatives. -The I. W. W.’s have no patience with -the detailed delays suggested and Wells -is as irritated with the losses in civilization -<a id="page-44" class="pagenum" title="44"></a> -to which a violent revolution is -likely to lead. He sets forth his feeling -in a discussion of the American population, -a curious phrase, necessary on account -of his distaste for the word people. -In speaking of the possibility of a national -revolutionary movement as an -arrest for the aristocratic tendency now -so pronounced he says: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The area of the country is too great and -the means of communication between the workers -in different parts inadequate for a concerted -rising or even for effective political -action in mass. In the worst event—and it -is only in the worst event that a great insurrectionary -movement becomes probable—the -newspapers, magazines, telephones, and telegraphs, -all the apparatus of discussion and -popular appeal, the railways, arsenals, guns, -flying machines, and all the materials of warfare, -will be in the hands of the property -owners, and the average of betrayal among -the leaders of a class, not racially homogeneous, -embittered, suspicious, united only by their -discomforts and not by any constructive intentions, -will necessarily be high. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -It is true almost. There are always -enough of the Gracchi family present to -supply the minimum number of weapons -essential. To the truth of this the revolutionary -movement in Mexico is a witness -and Colorado itself could tell tales. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Social Forces</em>, a too collegiate title, -sums up satisfactorily Wells’s important -opinions. The book isn’t really a whole: -some of the essays are journalistic and -some are old. It lacks nearly everywhere -the fierceness of <em>The Passionate -Friends</em>. In this book Wells is in his -dinner coat, comfortable and well fed. -He is respectable—horrible admission—but -he is still prophetic. -</p> - -<p> -In a sense, too, <em>Social Forces</em> is a warehouse. -There one may find stored the -rough materials which on occasion are -hammered into the poignancies of <em>Marriage</em> -or <em>Tono-Bungay</em>. As a vista into -a masterhand’s workshop the book has -its intense psychological interest, but -most of all it is text for salvation of the -world. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">William L. Chenery.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="A_NOVELISTS_REVIEW_OF_A_NOVEL"> -A Novelist’s Review of a Novel -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Vandover and the Brute</em>, by Frank Norris. -[Doubleday, Page and Company, New York.] -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -“I told them the truth. They liked it or -they didn’t like it. What had that to do with -me? I told them the truth; I knew it for the -truth then, and I know it for the truth now.”—<span class="smallcaps">Frank -Norris.</span> -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -It would seem inevitable that had -Frank Norris lived he would have rewritten -<em>Vandover and the Brute</em>. In the -book, as it was rescued from the packing -box that had been through the San -Francisco fire and sent to the publisher, -there is much that would have been discarded -by the later Norris. Perhaps he -would have thrown it all away and written -a new story with the same theme. -He was a big man and he had the courage -of bigness. He could throw fairly -good work into the waste-paper basket. -The decay of man in modern society, -the slow growth in him of the brute -that goes upon all fours—what a big, -terrible theme! What a book the later -Norris would have made of it! -</p> - -<p> -In the introduction by Charles G. -Norris quotation is made from the Frank -Norris essay, <em>The True Reward of the -<a id="page-45" class="pagenum" title="45"></a> -Novelist</em>, in which this sentence stands -out: “To make money is not the province -of the novelist.” Also it is suggested -that the book was written under -the influence of Zola, and there is more -than a hint of Zola’s formula that everything -in life is material for literature in -the way the job is done. -</p> - -<p> -As it stands, <em>Vandover</em> wants cutting—cutting -and something else. With -that said and understood, we are glad -that the book has been rescued and that -it can stand upon our book shelves. -American letters cannot know and understand -too much of the spirit of Frank -Norris, and just at this time when there -is much talk of the new note and some -little sincere effort toward a return to -truth and honesty in the craft of writing, -it is good to have this visit from the -boy Norris. He was a brave lad, an -American writing man who lived, -worked, and died without once putting -his foot upon the pasteboard road that -leads to easy money. “The easy -money is not for us,” he said and had -the manhood to write and live with that -warning in his mind. He had craft-love. -With a few more writers working -in his spirit we should hear less of -the new note. Norris was the new note. -He was of the undying brotherhood. -</p> - -<p> -When Frank Norris wrote <em>Vandover</em> -he was not the great artist he became, -but he was the great man; and that’s -why this book of his is worth publishing -and reading. The greater writer would -have possessed a faculty the boy who -wrote this book had not acquired—the -faculty of selection. He would have -been less intent upon telling truly unimportant -details and by elimination -would have gained dramatic strength. -</p> - -<p> -Read <em>Vandover</em> therefore not as an -example of the work of Norris the artist -but as the work of a true man. It will -inspire you. Its very rawness will show -you the artist in the making. It will -make you understand why Frank Norris -with Mark Twain will perhaps, -among all American writers, reach the -goal of immortality. -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_IMMIGRANTS_PURSUIT_OF_HAPPINESS"> -The Immigrant’s Pursuit of Happiness -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>They Who Knock at Our Gates</em>, by Mary Antin. -[Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">S</span><span class="postfirstchar">haking</span> the Declaration of Independence -in the face of all those opposed to -immigration in any form Mary Antin -makes an impassioned appeal for practically -unrestricted immigration. Her -motive is no doubt praiseworthy, her enthusiasm -and eloquence are admirable. -She contrasts the nature of our present-day -immigrants with those who landed in -the Mayflower. The self-satisfied middle -class attitude peeps through the question: -“Is immigration good for us?” -</p> - -<p> -And of course it is good. The immigrants -do more than three-quarters of -our bituminous coal mining. They -make seven-tenths of our steel. They -do four-fifths of our woolen, nine-tenths -of our cotton-mill work, nearly all our -clothing, nearly all our sugar, eighty-five -per cent of all labor in the stock-yards. -You cannot but come to the -same conclusions as Mary Antin: “Open -<a id="page-46" class="pagenum" title="46"></a> -wide our gates and set him on his way -to happiness.” -</p> - -<p> -On his way to happiness? One thinks -of Lawrence, Massachusetts, where immigrants -are not exactly happy; or Paterson, -New Jersey; or an incident of -this kind from Marysville, California, -related by Inez Haynes Gillmore in -<em>Harper’s Weekly</em> for April 4: “An -English lad, the possessor of a beautiful -tenor voice, song leader of the hop pickers, -was walking along carrying a bucket -of water. A deputy sheriff shot him -down.” One thinks of the Michigan -copper mines. Alexander Irvine told us -something about peonage in the South -in his “Magyar.” The New York -East Side with its 364,367<a class="fnote" href="#footnote-2" id="fnote-2">[2]</a> dark rooms -and its “lung block with nearly four -thousand people, some four hundred of -whom are babies. In the past nine years -alone this block has reported two hundred -and sixty-five cases of tuberculosis.”<a class="fnote" href="#footnote-3" id="fnote-3">[3]</a> -In Pittsburgh alone, according -to <em>The Literary Digest</em> of January 16, -1909, five hundred laborers are killed -and an unknown number injured every -year in the steel industry. According -to Dr. Peter Roberts about eighty per -cent of those suffering from rickets in -Chicago are Italians, Greeks, and Syrians. -This disease is almost unknown in -the southern countries. The following -is taken from an article by Henry A. -Atkinson in <em>Harper’s Weekly</em>: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -The policy of the companies has been to -exclude the more intelligent, capable English-speaking -laborers by importing large numbers -from southern Europe: Greeks, Slavonians, -Bulgarians, Magyars, Montenegrins, Albanians, -Turks as well as representatives from all of the -Balkan states. The Labor Bureau charges the -large corporations of the state with hiring these -men—“because they can be handled and -abused with impunity.”... Louis Tikas is -dead. His body riddled with fifty-one shots -from rapid fire guns, lay uncared for twenty-four -hours at Ludlow where he had been for -seven months the respected chief of his Greek -countrymen. He was shot while attempting to -lead the women and children to a place of -safety. At least six women and fifteen little -children died with him. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -“Open wide our gates and set him on -his way to happiness” says Mary Antin. -</p> - -<p> -Sixty thousand illiterate women were -admitted in 1911 to this country. The -president of The Woman’s National Industrial -League says in this connection -to the House Committee: “Syndicates -exist in New York and Boston for the -purpose of supplying fresh young girls -from immigrants arriving in this country -for houses of ill fame. Immigrants -arriving in New York furnish twenty -thousand victims annually.” Mr. Jacob -Riis said very recently: “Scarce a -Greek comes here, man or boy, who is -not under contract. A hundred dollars -a year is the price, so it is said by those -who know, though the padrone’s cunning -has put the legal proof beyond their -reach.” -</p> - -<p> -But these are statistics, and Mary -Antin is horrified by statistics except -when she can prove that “the average -immigrant family of the new period is -represented by an ascending curve. The -descending curves are furnished by degenerate -families of what was once prime -American stock.” The “happiness” -that those who knock at our gates run -into once they land in our mines, factories, -sweatshops, department stores, etc., -might be traced further. The real question -is this: Is immigration good for -the immigrant? In view of the above -facts there is but one answer so far as -the illiterate and physically weak are -<a id="page-47" class="pagenum" title="47"></a> -concerned. Twisting of facts out of a -desire to reach certain conclusions will -only harm the immigrant and the inhabitants -of this country. -</p> - -<p> -Mary Antin would have been Mary -Antin in Russia, Turkey, or Aphganistan. -The weak and the illiterate are -the ones who keep this question in the -foreground. Probably the only exception -is the Russian Jew. He has no -country of his own and the New York -East Side is a comparative improvement -over the Czar’s empire. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">William Saphier.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="footnote" /> - -<p class="footnote"> -<a class="footnote" href="#fnote-2" id="footnote-2">[2]</a> Fifth Report of Tenement House Department, -1909. Page 102. -</p> - -<p class="footnote"> -<a class="footnote" href="#fnote-3" id="footnote-3">[3]</a> Ernest Poole:—<em>A Handbook on the Prevention -of Tuberculosis.</em> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_UNIQUE_JAMES_FAMILY"> -The Unique James Family -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Notes of a Son and Brother</em>, by Henry James. -[Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">W</span><span class="postfirstchar">hatever</span> the deprecators of Henry -James’s later manner may have to say -about the difficulties of his involved style -there are some situations, some plots, -for which it is most happily suited. Was -so haunting a ghost story ever written -as that truly horrible one which involved -two children—the name of which has -unfortunately escaped me, for I should -like to recommend it for nocturnal perusal. -And in <em>The Golden Bowl</em> the gradual -way you are led to perceive the -wrong relationship between two of the -characters, which, had it been offered -bluntly, with no five degrees of approach -and insinuation, would have lost half its -mystery of guilt. As he himself says, -in the <em>Notes of a Son and Brother</em>, “I -like ambiguities, and detest great -glares.” -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, the style that is fitting -to a slow unfolding of a psychological -situation does not lend itself well -to biography. The direct way is the -only possible way there, if the reader is -to keep an unflagging interest, and the -direct way is simply not possible for -Henry James. And one asks nothing -more than to be told simply of the -student days at Switzerland and Germany, -and the life afterward at Newport, -just as the Civil War was beginning -or best of all throughout the -story of a united family—the four -boys, little sister, father, mother, and aunt, -quite unlike, I imagine, any other family -in the world. The quality of the genius of -the brothers seems to have sprung from -the association with a father as unlike as -possible to the American father of today. -He did not influence them, we are told, -by any power of verbal persuasion to -his own ideas. It was quite simply himself, -his personality and character, the -way he lived life, that took hold upon -his sons’ imagination. Of course that -is the only way anyone ever is influenced, -but I think most parents do try -the verbal persuasion as well. Henry -James says of his father: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -I am not sure, indeed, that the kind of personal -history most appealing to my father -would not have been some kind that should -fairly proceed by mistakes, mistakes more -human, more associational, less angular, less -hard for others, that is less exemplary for them -(since righteousness, as mostly understood, was -in our parents’ view, I think, the cruellest thing -in the world) than straight and smug and declared -felicities. The qualification here, I -allow, would be his scant measure of the difference, -<a id="page-48" class="pagenum" title="48"></a> -after all, for the life of the soul, between -the marked achievement and the marked -shortcoming. He had a manner of his own of -appreciating failure or of not, at least, piously -rejoicing in displayed moral, intellectual, or even -material economies, which, had it not been that -his humanity, his generosity, and, for the most -part, his gaiety were always, at the worst, consistent, -might sometimes have left us with our -small saving, our little exhibitions and complacencies, -rather on our hands. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Speaking of the “detached” feeling -they had after returning from Europe -to settle in Newport, he says: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -I remember well how, when we were all young -together, we had, under pressure of the American -ideal in that matter, then so rigid, felt it -tasteless and even humiliating that the head -of our little family was <em>not</em> in business.... -</p> - -<p> -Such had never been the case with the father -of any boy of our acquaintance; the business -in which the boy’s father gloriously <em>was</em> stood -forth inveterately as the very first note of our -comrade’s impressiveness. <em>We</em> had no note of -that sort to produce, and I perfectly recover -the effect of my own repeated appeal to our -parent for some presentable account of him -that would prove us respectable. Business -alone was respectable—if one meant by it, -that is, the calling of a lawyer, a doctor, or a -minister (we never spoke of clergymen) as -well; I think if we had had the Pope among -us we should have supposed the Pope in business, -just as I remember my friend Simpson’s -telling me crushingly, at one of our New York -schools, on my hanging back with the fatal -truth about our credentials, that the author of -<em>his</em> being was in the business of stevedore. -That struck me as a great card to play—the -word was fine and mysterious; so that “What -shall we tell them you <em>are</em>, don’t you see?” -could but become on our lips at home a more -constant appeal. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Very interesting are the occasional -letters telling of Emerson and Carlyle. -Especially so to me are the side lights -on Carlyle, as chiming in somehow with -the series of impressions I seem gradually -to have accumulated about him as -time goes on. Perhaps it really isn’t -fair, as a large amount of those impressions -I feel sure I owe to Froude, but I -can’t help wondering what our times, -with modern surgery and therapeutics, -would have accomplished with Carlyle’s -indigestion, and what resultant difference -there would assuredly have been -in his philosophy. To quote from a letter -of the elder Henry James: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -I took our friend M—— to see him [Carlyle], -and he came away greatly distressed and -<em>désillusionné</em>, Carlyle having taken the utmost -pains to deny and descry and deride the idea -of his having done the least good to anybody, -and to profess, indeed, the utmost contempt -for everybody who thought he had, and poor -M—— being intent on giving him a plenary -assurance of this fact in his own case. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -And again in a letter to Emerson: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -Carlyle nowadays is a palpable nuisance. If -he holds to his present mouthing ways to the -end he will find no showman là-bas to match -him.... Carlyle’s intellectual pride is so -stupid that one can hardly imagine anything -able to cope with it. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -An earlier letter has this delicious bit -about Hawthorne: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -Hawthorne isn’t to me a prepossessing figure, -nor apparently at all an <em>enjoying</em> person.... -But in spite of his rusticity I felt a sympathy -for him fairly amounting to anguish, and -couldn’t take my eyes off him all dinner, nor my -rapt attention.... It was heavenly to see him -persist in ignoring the spectral smiles—in eating -his dinner and doing nothing but that, and -then go home to his Concord den to fall upon -his knees and ask his heavenly Father why it -was that an owl couldn’t remain an owl and not -be forced into the diversions of a canary! -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -And in the postscript of the same: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -What a world, what a world! But once we -get rid of Slavery the new heavens and the -new earth will swim into reality. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -Which shows how much in earnest the -Abolitionists really were—it was a tenet -of faith with them. Sad and strange -<a id="page-49" class="pagenum" title="49"></a> -and illuminating to us of a later generation, -who are now struggling for other -abolitions of slavery, and still hoping -for a new world. -</p> - -<p> -I wish I could quote from the delightful -letters of William James, but they -must be read entire, with the author’s -comments, to place them correctly. -Pending a biography of the man, these -letters will be to many readers the most -interesting feature of the book. One of -the most magnificent things about the -book, however,—if I may use a large -word for a large concept—is the spirit -running through it of filial and fraternal -love, never expressed in so many -words, but apparent throughout, which -makes, as I said before, the James family -unique in the history of American -letters. -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="DE_MORGANS_LATEST"> -De Morgan’s Latest -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>When Ghost Meets Ghost</em>, by William De Morgan. -[Henry Holt and Company, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">W</span><span class="postfirstchar">hatever</span> else I may say about De -Morgan’s new book, I absolutely refuse -to tell the number of its pages. Every -other criticism begins or ends with this -uninteresting fact, and usually adds that -it makes no difference how long it is, -since the writer’s charm pervades it all. -But it does make a difference, and it is -too trite to say we are so hurried and -nervous and given over to frivolity nowadays -that we are unable to read Dickens -and Thackeray and Scott and De -Morgan. There is a great deal more -to read, and a great deal more to do -and to think about, than ever there was -in Thackeray’s day. And if we are -going to spend our time reading countless -pages (I very nearly told how many, -after all!) we want to be sure it is more -worth while than anything else we can -be doing, or thinking, or reading. -</p> - -<p> -However, one can’t say very well that -he greatly admires a stork, or would if -he had a short beak and short legs. De -Morgan’s style is his own, and he will -tell the story his own way, though we -all have a quarrel with him for leaving -the most interesting bits to a short “Pendrift” -at the end. Did Given’s lover -contemplate taking his East Indian poison -when the newspapers announced that -she was to marry an Austrian noble? -Think of cutting that episode off in a -few words, while an entire chapter is -devoted to a “shortage of mud” for -little Dave and Dolly, who were making -a dyke in the street! But then, De Morgan -doesn’t know how to stop when he -begins to talk of children. How he -loves them, and all other helpless creatures! -He can’t speak even of kittens -without a touch of tenderness: -</p> - -<div class="excerpt"> -<p class="noindent"> -Mrs. Lapping explained that she was using -it (the basket) to convey a kitten, born in her -establishment, to Miss Druitt at thirty-four -opposite, who had expressed anxiety to possess -it. It was this kitten’s expression of impatience -with its position that had excited Mrs. -Riley’s curiosity. “Why don’t ye carry the -little sowl across in your hands, me dyurr?” -she said, not unreasonably, for it was only a -<a id="page-50" class="pagenum" title="50"></a> -stone’s throw. Mrs. Topping added that this -was no common kitten, but one of preternatural -activities and possessed of diabolical, tentacular -powers of entanglement. “I would -not undertake,” said she, “to get it across -the road, ma’am, only catching hold. Nor if -I got it safe across, to onhook it, without tearing.” -Mrs. Riley was obliged to admit the -wisdom of the Janus basket. She knew how -difficult it is to be even with a kitten. -</p> - -</div> - -<p class="noindent"> -It is bits like this that make Mr. De -Morgan’s story so long, and it is bits -like this that reconcile us to its length. -I believe most readers won’t care greatly -whether the two poor old sisters who -have been separated so many years ever -do meet again. There is no feeling of -climax when they do—merely relief that -the thing has finally been put across. It -was beginning to look as if it never -would happen; and though the reader -himself, as I say, doesn’t greatly care, -he can see that De Morgan does; he has -apparently been doing his best to bring -it about, but the cantankerous ones just -wouldn’t let him. -</p> - -<p> -On the other hand, who can help loving -Given o’ the Towers—all sweetness, -beauty, and light? Only—isn’t she -really more of a twentieth-century heroine -than a Victorian young lady, with -her crisp decisiveness and air of being -most ably able to look out for herself? -Truly Victorian, however, are our “slow -couple”—Miss Dickenson and Mr. Pellew. -Miss Dickenson is thirty-six, and, -by all Victorian standards, quite out of -the running. De Morgan is extremely -apologetic for allowing her to have a -romance at this belated hour—her -charms faded and gone. But we are -betting quite heavily on Miss Dickenson’s -chances for happiness with the -Hon. Mr. Pellew. The two were “good -gossips,” and would always have topics -of interest in common. -</p> - -<p> -The Pendrift at the end—quite the -most fascinating part of the book—tells -us of the daughter of this union -Cicely, by this time sixteen years old. -</p> - -<p> -“You know,” says the girl, Cis,—who -is new and naturally knows things, -and can tell her parents,—“you know -there is never the slightest reason for -apprehension as long as there is no delusion. -Even then we have to discriminate -carefully between fixed and permanent -delusions and——” -</p> - -<p> -“Shut up, Mouse!” says her father. -“What’s that striking?”... -</p> - -<p> -The young lady says, “Well, I got it -all out of a book.” -</p> - -<p> -One good reason for reading De Morgan -is the fact that he is older than the -majority of his readers. We read so -much, we hear so much acclaimed that -is written by children of twenty, whose -experience of life must necessarily be -got, like Cicely’s, “out of a book.” The -saying of De Maupassant surely applies -here—that the writer must sit down -before an object until he has seen it in -the way that he alone can see it. De -Morgan has had the opportunity of seeing -life, surely, and knowing what most -of it amounts to. The result is a large -tolerance and tenderness toward his fellow -men. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">M. H. P.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="THE_ECONOMICS_OF_SOCIAL_INSURANCE"> -<a id="page-51" class="pagenum" title="51"></a> -The Economics of Social Insurance -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Social Insurance: With Special Reference to American Conditions</em>, by I. M. Rubinow. -[Henry Holt and Company, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">T</span><span class="postfirstchar">he</span> logic of events is rapidly forcing -nation after nation into what has hitherto -been damned with the epithet paternalism. -America, perhaps, is the last -important country in the world to face -the problems raised by the march of -events in this direction. Social insurance, -a thing accomplished and a commonplace -of government functioning in -so many countries, recently adopted in -England, is, in this country, still a novelty -outside the university class room -and the lecture halls of fanatical demagogues -who wish to upset the foundations -of our civil government and civilization—as -the elder politicians express -it when their attention is drawn to these -sinister activities of thought. -</p> - -<p> -The author of this book in fact was -the first academic lecturer on the subject -to give a university course in the various -forms which social insurance has -taken. These lectures he delivered before -the New York School of Philanthropy, -and they are reprinted here in -an extended form. -</p> - -<p> -After giving the philosophy of the -matter, the underlying social necessity -for insurance, the author takes up the -various forms of the activity. Accident, -disease, old age, and unemployment -must all be provided against, and -the state, the employer, and the laborer -may share the burden among them, or -the two latter may be relieved—as in -various types of non-contributory insurance. -</p> - -<p> -Of course the old school economist -will ask why the latter two are not relieved, -and why the employe or private -citizen is not just encouraged to insure -with a private corporation. The -author’s answer is that, even if he -were educated to the point of desiring -to do that, he could not. A man insures -his house because the feeling of -security is worth the small premium he -pays, even if that premium is larger than -the actual risk involved would warrant—larger -by a sum equal to the cost and -profits of the business of the insurance -company. But the poor man’s chances -of loss of employment, accident, or sickness -are so much greater in proportion -to the capitalized value of his job that -he could never afford to pay the premium -necessary for a private company -to take care of him; while his old age -could not be insured without taking all -of his earnings—and even then he -might die before he reached it. -</p> - -<p> -The situation then is that an admitted -necessity cannot be obtained unless the -state as a whole takes steps to attain -it for all the members of the state. How -other states have done this, how type -after type of insurance has been evolved, -and how these types may be adapted to -American practice is the burden of the -present work. -</p> - -<p> -The author writes in a clear and non-technical -manner, and makes no extravagant -claims for what some people may -regard as a social panacea; but he is -confident that the full development of -the idea of social insurance will relieve -the worst aspects of poverty—the aspects -in which poverty is not only a -hardship, but a haunting spirit, sapping -the vitality of its victims until they are -rendered socially useless. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">Llewellyn Jones.</span> -</p> - -<h3 class="section" id="PROSE_POEMS_OF_IRELAND"> -<a id="page-52" class="pagenum" title="52"></a> -Prose Poems of Ireland -</h3> - -<p class="book"> -<em>Red Hanrahan</em>, by William Butler Yeats. New edition. -[The Macmillan Company, New York.] -</p> - -<p class="first"> -<span class="firstchar">I</span><span class="postfirstchar">f</span> you believe, with Chesterton, that -“should the snap dragon open its little -pollened mouth and sing ’twould be no -more wonderful a thing” than that a -solemn little blue egg should turn into a -big happy red-breasted bird; if you are -of “the young men that dream dreams” -or of “the old men who have visions” -the songs and the tales and the wanderings -and the mysteries of “Red” Owen -Hanrahan will thrill you with a sense of -your real nearness to “something lovelier -than Heaven.” -</p> - -<p> -Such a group of tales of the people -and by the people as Mr. Yeats has -gathered together in <em>Red Hanrahan</em> can -be nothing if not a personal matter. -Frankly, I never saw a fairy, or a -gnome, or a hobgoblin. I have never -even had a vision worth writing a book -about; but I am young yet, and if the -gods continue to be kind.... In the -meanwhile I shall grasp the first opportunity -to read <em>Red Hanrahan</em> in a deep -woods, at dusk—regardless of the optician’s -orders. -</p> - -<p class="sign"> -<span class="smallcaps">H. B. S.</span> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="TO_WILLIAM_BUTLER_YEATS"> -To William Butler Yeats -</h2> - -</div> - -<p class="aut"> -<span class="smallcaps">Marguerite O. B. Wilkinson</span> -</p> - -<div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">As one, who, wandering down a squalid street,</p> - <p class="verse1">Where dingy buildings crowd each other high,</p> - <p class="verse1">Where all who pass have need to hurry by,</p> - <p class="verse">Saddened and parched and fighting through the heat,</p> - <p class="verse">Comes suddenly where pain and beauty meet,</p> - <p class="verse1">And sees a stretch of fair, unsullied sky,</p> - <p class="verse1">Covering a field of clover bloom, so I,</p> - <p class="verse">With heart prepared to find the contrast sweet</p> - <p class="verse2">In seeking through a world of sordid prose,</p> - <p class="verse3">Where use-stained words with huddled shoulders stand</p> - <p class="verse2">In sullen, monumental, loveless rows,</p> - <p class="verse3">Have found a sudden green and sunny land</p> - <p class="verse4">Where you, O Poet, give us back lost wonder,</p> - <p class="verse4">Leisure, sweet fields, clean skies to travel under!</p> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="article" id="SENTENCE_REVIEWS"> -<a id="page-53" class="pagenum" title="53"></a> -Sentence Reviews -</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="sentrev"> -<p class="note"> -[Inclusion in this category does not preclude a more extended notice.] -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<em>The Titan</em>, by Theodore Dreiser [John Lane -Company, New York], will be reviewed at -length in the July issue. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Clay and Fire</em>, by Layton Crippen. [Henry -Holt and Company, New York.] A provocative -philosophical discussion of the basal problem -of religion by an author who treats pessimism -according to the homeopathic principle. -Reasonable hopes are made to seem hopeless. -A morbid retrospectiveness may, however, force -thought into light, and the book leaves one in -a strange illumination effected by spiritual fire. -</p> - -<p> -<em>At the Sign of the Van</em>, by Michael Monahan. -[Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] These -essays include <em>The Log of the Papyrus with -Other Escapades in Life and Letters</em>. Whether -he is praising Percival Pollard, explaining -Whitman’s cosmic consciousness—which he did -to a Whitman Fellowship gathering—or wistfully -telling us how he would like to have had -a look in on the doings in Babylon, the amorous -dallyings which Jeremiah muckraked in the -name of his Comstockean Jehovah, Michael -Monahan is always interesting even if he is not -always as stormy as his designation “the -stormy petrel of literature” would indicate. -In truth it would take a number of birds of -different species—but all pleasant ones—to -make up the tale of the qualities which this -versatile essayist exhibits in these pages. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Aphrodite and Other Poems</em>, by John Helston. -[The Macmillan Company, New York.] Mr. -Helston does not write great poetry,—though -he comes close to very good poetry at times,—but -he writes greatly about love. His attitude -is a refusal to divorce the spiritual from the -earthly with which we have a hearty sympathy. -No franker love poetry has been written, probably; -but somehow we failed to find in it the -sensuality that its critics have discovered. It -is richly pagan. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Love of One’s Neighbor</em>, by Leonid Andreyev. -[Albert and Charles Boni, New York.] A very -excellent translation of a one-act play which -will probably sell well, though coming from the -author of <em>The Seven Who Were Hanged</em> it -seems a mere trifle. The translator, Thomas -Seltzer, should be urged to undertake the more -worthy task of introducing Andreyev’s really -great work to English-speaking readers. -</p> - -<p> -<em>New Men for Old</em>, by Howard Vincent -O’Brien. [Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] -The first novel of a new young writer, especially -when he is as sincere as Mr. O’Brien -and as deeply interested in the joy of Work, -is a matter of importance. The book has its -obvious faults technically, even psychologically, -but it preaches socialism from an interesting -standpoint and makes good reading. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Challenge</em>, by Louise Untermeyer. [The -Century Co., New York.] Virile and ambitious -songs of the present. <em>Caliban in the Coal -Mines</em>, <em>Any City</em>, <em>Strikers</em>, <em>In the Subway</em>, <em>The -Heretic</em>, show that the poet is not a shrinker -from modern life. The title poem sounds the -keynote: -</p> - - <div class="excerpt"> - <div class="poem-container"> - <div class="poem"> - <div class="stanza"> - <p class="verse">The quiet and courageous night,</p> - <p class="verse1">The keen vibration of the stars</p> - <p class="verse">Call me, from morbid peace, to fight</p> - <p class="verse1">The world’s forlorn and desperate wars.</p> - </div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -<p class="noindent"> -<em>John Ward, M.D.</em>, by Charles Vale. [Mitchell -Kennerley, New York.] Seneschal sentimentality -with a “modern” plot woven about the -questionable science of eugenics. One of those -irritating books in which one reads page after -page after page in the vain endeavor to find -out why Mitchell Kennerly spent his money -on it. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Forum Stories</em>, selected by Charles <a id="corr-12"></a>Vale. -[Mitchell Kennerley, New York.] All these -stories have appeared in <em>The Forum</em> since it -came under Mr. Kennerley’s management, and -they are all by American writers. They represent -the work not only of such well known -writers as <a id="corr-13"></a>Reginald Wright Kauffman, James -Hopper, Margaret Widdemer, and John S. -Reed—who has a tense little narrative of the -struggle toward land of two swimmers wrecked -in the Pacific Ocean—but the work of several -lesser known but promising authors. Among -them is Miss Florence Kiper, of Chicago, who -writes under the title <em>I Have Borne My Lord a -Son</em> a most penetrating study of the psychology -of motherhood. -</p> - -<p> -<a id="page-54" class="pagenum" title="54"></a> -<em>Papa</em>, by Zoë Akins. [Mitchell Kennerley, -New York.] A little play which shows so much -determination to be clever and very, very -naughty that it’s almost a pity it doesn’t -succeed. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Saint Louis: a Civic Masque</em>, by Percy MacKaye. -[Doubleday, Page and Company, New -York.] A valuable contribution to the dramatic -“spirit” of awakening civic intelligence. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Great Days</em>, by Frank Harris. [Mitchell -Kennerley, New York.] Audacious, vivid, -gripping sex experiences of the son of an -immoral English innkeeper. The big rough -brother of <em>Three Weeks</em>. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Poems</em>, by Walter Conrad Amberg. [Houghton -Mifflin Company, Boston.] Poems written -with a sure and gentle delicacy that seems forgotten -by this generation of rude iconoclasts. -</p> - -<p> -<em>The True Adventures of a Play</em>, by Louis -Evan Shipman. [Mitchell Kennerley, New -York.] The play is <em>D’Arcy of the Guards</em> and -its author tells in full the trials and tribulations—and -the eventual triumph—which met -him from the moment when he offered to submit -the manuscript to E. H. Sothern, and that star -told him to send it along. Not only are the -details of acceptances of plays, the incidental -negotiations and red tape described, but the -making of costume plates, the designing of the -whole presentation, and the collaboration between -author, producer, and actors are told -with such humor and documentary fidelity to the -actual transactions that the book will not only -be interesting to the general reader but indispensable -to the tyro playwright. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Nova Hibernia</em>, by Michael Monahan. [Mitchell -Kennerley, New York.] Competent, incisive -studies, sketches, and lectures dealing with -“Irish poets and dramatists of today and yesterday”—Yeats, -Synge, Thomas Moore, Mangan, -Gerald Griffin, Callahan, Doctor Maginn, -Father Prout, Sheridan, and others. -</p> - -<p> -<em>The Pipes of Clovis</em>, by Grace Duffie Boylan. -[Little, Brown, and Company, Boston.] A -forester’s son proficient on a magic pipe; a blue -and silver-gowned princess; the invasion of -Swabia by the Huns away back in the twelfth -century, all woven into a romance for children -and grown-ups who still love the fairies. -</p> - -<p> -<em>The Post Office</em>, by Rabindranath Tagore. -[The Macmillan Company, New York.] A -touching little idyll of a sick child who longs -for a letter from the king through the post -office which he can see across the road. And -his dream comes true. Written in rhythmic -prose. -</p> - -<p> -<em>Sanctuary</em>, by Percy MacKaye. [Frederick -A. Stokes, New York.] A bird masque performed -in September, 1913, for the dedication -of the bird sanctuary of the Meriden Bird -Club at Meriden, N. H. A defense of birds -and a defense of poetry. The theme is the -conversion of a bird slaughterer. The verse is -full of “birdblithesomeness.” -</p> - -<p> -<em>Old World Memories</em>, by Edward Lowe Temple. -[The Page Company, Boston.] The story -of a summer vacation in Europe as naïve, as -full of human interest, disjoined history, and -worthy indefinite advice as the after dinner -“post card tour” of a just-returned Cook’s -traveler. -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="bookstores" id="WHERE_THE_LITTLE_REVIEW_IS_ON_SALE"> -<a id="page-55" class="pagenum" title="55"></a> -Where the Little Review Is on Sale -</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="bookstores chapter"> - <div class="list"> -<p class="stores"> -<em>New York</em>: Brentano’s. Vaughn & Gomme.<br /> -E. P. Dutton & Co. G. P. Putnam’s Sons.<br /> -Wanamaker’s. Max N. Maisel. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Chicago</em>: The Little Theatre. McClurg’s.<br /> -Morris’s Book Shop. University of Chicago<br /> -Press. Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co. A. Kroch<br /> -& Co. Radical Book Shop. Chandler’s Bookstore,<br /> -Evanston. W. S. Lord, Evanston. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Pittsburg</em>: Davis’s Bookshop. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Cleveland</em>: Burrows Brothers. Korner & Wood. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Detroit</em>: Macauley Bros. Sheehan & Co. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Minneapolis</em>: Nathaniel McCarthy’s. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>San Francisco, Cal.</em>: Paul Elder & Co.<br /> -A. M. Robertson’s Bookstore. Emporium Book<br /> -Dept. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Los Angeles</em>: C. C. Parker’s. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Omaha</em>: Henry F. Keiser. -</p> - -<p class="stores"> -<em>Columbus, O.</em>: A. H. 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Henry, -Carlyle, Renan, Tolstoy, and Arthur Brisbane, to mention but a few. “At the Sign of the Van” is really -a second, larger, and even finer book than “Adventures in Life and Letters.” -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<em>For Sale at all Book Shops or from the Publisher</em> -</p> - -<p class="u ade"> -MITCHELL KENNERLEY, <em>Publisher</em><br /> -32 West Fifty-Eighth Street, New York -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<p class="h1 adh"> -<a id="page-59" class="pagenum" title="59"></a> -FOR SUMMER READING -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">NEW MEN FOR OLD.</span> By Howard Vincent O’Brien. -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<span class="larger">$1.25</span> net. -</p> - -<p> -One of the finest first novels of many seasons. A book too that for verity, passion -and sincerity can bear comparison with the best that America has produced. -</p> - -<p> -But make no mistake—this is a good story as well. A young fellow, son of a wealthy -Chicagoan, passes his time in Paris in luxurious idleness. He is called home at his -father’s death. Instead of receiving a fortune he finds himself penniless. -</p> - -<p> -That’s the situation that faces Harlan Chandos at the opening of “New Men for Old,” -the book tells the rest of the story. -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">GREAT DAYS.</span> By Frank Harris, author of “The Man Shakespeare,” -“The Bomb,” etc. -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<span class="larger">$1.35</span> net. -</p> - -<p> -There is nothing of the problem-novel about this newest book by Frank Harris. It -is just a red-blooded gripping yarn. And when it comes to holding your interest in the -tale he tells, it is doubtful if any living writer has Mr. Harris’ mastery. “Great Days” -is set in the time of Napoleon—there are smugglers and privateers and fighting and—by -no means least—<em>love</em>. Bonaparte is etched strikingly and vividly, and so is Charles -Fox. Emphatically a book for the Spring and Summer months. -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">WHEN LOVE FLIES OUT O’ THE WINDOW.</span> By Leonard -Merrick. -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<span class="larger">$1.20</span> net. -</p> - -<p> -This, the latest of Leonard Merrick’s novels to be published in America, is a brilliant -story of theatrical life. The scene shifts rapidly from London to Paris, back again to -London and finally to New York. 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With eight illustrations. -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<span class="larger">$1.25</span> net. -</p> - -<p> -This will prove a peculiarly attractive book to the average man and woman. Mr. -Ireland, who is a well-known member of the staff of <em>The New York World</em>, was one of -the half dozen private secretaries who were constantly with Pulitzer, or “J. P.,” as they -called him. In this book you see the very man, you learn how he lived, what he read, -and you get an idea of the vigor and power that made <em>The World</em> the great paper it is. -</p> - -<p> -No ordinary biography this—but a tale that for sheer interest in its telling leaves -most fiction far behind. It is dedicated (by permission) to Joseph Pulitzer’s widow. -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">FORUM STORIES.</span> Selected by Charles Vale, author of “John Ward, -M. D.” -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<span class="larger">$1.50</span> net. -</p> - -<p> -Sixteen of the best stories that America can produce today. Each by a different -author. Among those represented are John Reed, James Hopper, Reginald Wright -Kauffman and Edwin Björkman. -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<em>At all Book Stores or from the Publisher</em> -</p> - -<p class="u ade"> -MITCHELL KENNERLEY, <em>Publisher</em><br /> -32 West Fifty-Eighth Street, New York -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<p class="h1 adh"> -<a id="page-60" class="pagenum" title="60"></a> -<em>The Mosher Books</em> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<em>LATEST ANNOUNCEMENTS</em> -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>I</em> -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">Billy</span>: The True Story of a Canary Bird -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -By <span class="smallcaps">Maud Thornhill Porter</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>950 copies, Fcap 8vo. $1.00 net</em> -</p> - -<p> -This pathetic little story was first issued by Mr. Mosher in a privately printed edition -of 500 copies and was practically sold out before January 1, 1913. The late Dr. Weir -Mitchell in a letter to the owner of the copyright said among other things: “Certainly -no more beautiful piece of English has been printed of late years.” And again: “May -I ask if this lady did not leave other literary products? The one you print is so unusual -in style and quality and imagination that after I read it I felt convinced there must be -other matter of like character.” -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>II</em> -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">Billy and Hans</span>: My Squirrel Friends. A True History -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -By <span class="smallcaps">W. J. Stillman</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>950 copies, Fcap 8vo. 75 cents net</em> -</p> - -<p> -Reprinted from the revised London edition of 1907 by kind permission of Mrs. W. J. -Stillman. -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>III</em> -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">Books and the Quiet Life</span>: Being Some Pages from The Private -Papers of Henry Ryecroft -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -By <span class="smallcaps">George Gissing</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>950 copies, Fcap 8vo, 75 cents net</em> -</p> - -<p> -To the lover of what may be called spiritual autobiography, perhaps no other book in -recent English literature appeals with so potent a charm as “The Private Papers of -Henry Ryecroft.” It is the highest expression of Gissing’s genius—a book that deserves -a place on the same shelf with the Journals of De Guérin and Amiel. For the -present publication, the numerous passages of the “Papers” relating to books and -reading have been brought together and given an external setting appropriate to their -exquisite literary flavor. -</p> - -<hr class="hr10" /> - -<p class="c"> -<em>Mr. Mosher also begs to state that the following new editions are now ready</em>: -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>I</em> -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">Under a Fool’s Cap</span>: Songs -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -By <span class="smallcaps">Daniel Henry Holmes</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>900 copies, Fcap 8vo, old-rose boards. $1.25 net</em> -</p> - -<p> -For an Appreciation of this book read Mr. Larned’s article in the February <em>Century</em>. -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>II</em> -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -<span class="larger">Amphora</span>: A Collection of Prose and Verse chosen by the Editor -of The Bibelot -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>925 copies, Fcap 8vo, old-style ribbed boards. $1.75 net</em> -</p> - -<p> -<em>The Forum</em> for January, in an Appreciation by Mr. Richard Le Gallienne, pays tribute -to this book in a most convincing manner. -</p> - -<p class="s c"> -<em>All books sent postpaid on receipt of price net.</em> -</p> - -<p class="ade"> -<em>THOMAS B. MOSHER</em> <em>Portland, Maine</em> -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<p class="h1 adh"> -<a id="page-61" class="pagenum" title="61"></a> -THE DRAMA -</p> - -<p class="u ade"> -736 Marquette Building<br /> -CHICAGO -</p> - -<p class="ads"> -<em>A QUARTERLY DEVOTED TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF -A WIDE AND INTELLIGENT INTEREST IN DRAMA</em> -</p> - -<p> -<b>Each issue of <em>The Drama</em> contains a translation of a complete -play.</b> These plays, which are not otherwise accessible in English, -represent especially the leading dramatists of the continent. -Chosen as they are from various countries and from many schools, -they give one an introduction to the most significant features of -modern dramatic art. Plays by Giacosa, Donnay, Gillette, -Tagore and Andreyev have appeared recently. Forthcoming -numbers will bring out the work of Goldoni and Curel. -</p> - -<p> -In addition to the play and a discussion of the work of its -author, articles on all phases of drama keep the reader well informed. -<b>Modern stagecraft</b>, new types of <b>theater building</b>, organizations -for drama reform, “<b>little theater</b>” movements, <b>pageantry</b>, -<b>the history of the drama</b>, and all pertinent subjects receive attention. -Significant books on dramaturgy and other drama publications -of especial value are regularly and sincerely <b>reviewed</b>. -From time to time the developments of the year in <b>foreign art -centers</b> are considered. 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Once a month—and -occasionally more frequently—the -GLEBE brings -out the complete work of -one individual arranged in -book form and free from editorials -and other extraneous -matter. -</p> - -<p> -Prominent among numbers -for the year 1914 are <em>Des -Imagistes</em>, an anthology of -the Imagists’ movement in -England, including <em>Pound</em>, -<em>Hueffer</em>, <em>Aldington</em>, <em>Flint -and others</em>; essays by <span class="smallcaps">Ellen -Key</span>; a play by <span class="smallcaps">Frank -Wedekind</span>; collects and -prose pieces by <span class="smallcaps">Horace -Traubel</span>; and <span class="smallcaps">The Doina</span>, -translations by <span class="smallcaps">Maurice -Aisen</span> of Roumanian folksongs. -The main purpose of -the GLEBE is to bring to -light the really fine work of -unknown men. These will -appear throughout the year. -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -Single Copies 50c -Subscription, $3 per year -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -TRIAL SUBSCRIPTION FOUR -MONTHS $1.00 -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -Des Imagistes -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>$1.00 net. Postpaid $1.10.</em> -</p> - -<p> -An anthology of the youngest and most discussed school -of English poetry. Including selections by Ezra Pound, -Ford Madox Hueffer, Amy Lowell, Richard Aldington, -Allen Upward, and others. -</p> - - <div class="s"> -<p> -“The Imagists are keenly sensitive to the more picturesque -aspects of Nature.”—<b>The Literary Digest.</b> -</p> - -<p> -“... contains an infinite amount of pure beauty.”—<b>The -Outlook</b> (London). -</p> - -<p> -“These young experimentalists are widening the liberties of -English poetry.”—<b>The Post</b> (London). -</p> - -<p> -“It sticks out of the crowd like a tall marble monument.”—<b>The -New Weekly.</b> -</p> - - </div> -<p class="adb"> -Mariana -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<span class="smallcaps">By Jose Echegaray</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>Crash Cloth 75c net; 85c postpaid.</em> -</p> - -<p class="ads"> -Winner of the Nobel Prize, 1904. -</p> - -<p> -A drama in three acts and an epilogue. 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Herron</b>: “It is a book of the highest value and -beauty that Horace Traubel proposes to give us, and I can -only hope that it will be read as widely and appreciatively -as it more than deserves to be; for it is with a joy that would -seem extravagant, if I expressed it, that I welcome ‘Chants -Communal.’” -</p> - - </div> -<p class="adb"> -Not Guilty -</p> - -<p class="ads"> -<em>A Defence of the Bottom Dog</em> -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<span class="smallcaps">By Robert Blatchford</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>Cloth 50c. Paper 25c.</em> -</p> - -<p> -A humanitarian plea, unequalled in lucidity and incontrovertible -in its logic. -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -Our Irrational Distribution of Wealth -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<span class="smallcaps">By Byron C. Mathews</span> -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>Cloth $1.00 net.</em> -</p> - -<p> -The author undertakes to show that the agencies which -are used in distributing the products of industry and are -responsible for the extremes in the social scale have never -been adopted by any rational action, but have come to be -through fortuitous circumstances and are without moral -basis. The wage system, as a means of distribution, is -utterly inadequate to measure the workers’ share. The -source of permanent improvement is found in social ownership, -which transfers the power over distribution from the -hands of those individuals who now own the instruments -of production to the hands of the people. -</p> - -<p class="u ade"> -ALBERT AND CHARLES BONI<br /> -PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS<br /> -NINETY-SIX FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<p class="h2 adh"> -<a id="page-63" class="pagenum" title="63"></a> -VOL. IV · <b>Price 15 cents</b> · NO. III -</p> - -<div class="centerpic poetry"> -<img src="images/poetry.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="h1 hidden adh"> -Poetry -</p> - -<p class="hidden ads"> -A Magazine of Verse -</p> - -<p class="hidden ada"> -Edited by Harriet Monroe -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -JUNE, 1914 -</p> - - <div class="table"> -<table class="tablepoetry" summary="Table-2"> -<tbody> - <tr> - <td class="col1">On Heaven</td> - <td class="col2">Ford Madox Hueffer</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">Iron</td> - <td class="col2">Carl Sandburg</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">The Falconer of God</td> - <td class="col2">William Rose Benét</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">Poems</td> - <td class="col2">Grace Hazard Conkling</td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1" colspan="2">To the Mexican Nightingale—Ave Venezia—“I will not give thee all my heart”—The Little Town.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">Poems</td> - <td class="col2">Wilfrid Wilson Gibson</td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1" colspan="2">The Tram—On Hampstead Heath—A Catch for Singing.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="col1">Editorial Comment</td> - <td class="col2"> </td> - </tr> - <tr class="i"> - <td class="col1" colspan="2">“Too Far From Paris”—Mr. Hueffer and the Prose Tradition in Verse—Notes.</td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - </div> -<p class="ade"> -543 Cass Street, Chicago -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -Annual Subscription $1.50 -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<div class="centerpic mason"> -<a id="page-64" class="pagenum" title="64"></a><img src="images/mason.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>The</em> Pre-eminence <em>of</em> the -</p> - -<p class="h1 adh"> -Mason & Hamlin -</p> - -<p> -During the musical season just closing, the <b>Mason & Hamlin</b> -has been heard more frequently in concerts and public recitals of -note than all other pianos. ¶ To scan but hurriedly a partial list, is -to be reminded of the greatest musical events of the past season. -</p> - - <div class="table"> - <div class="tablemason"> - <div class="row"> -<p class="u cell"> -Tetrazzini-Ruffo Concert<br /> -Melba-Kubelik Concert<br /> -Kneisel Quartet<br /> -Flonzaley Quartet -</p> - -<p class="u cell"> -Concerts <em>of</em> the Apollo Musical Club<br /> -Sinai Temple Orchestra<br /> -Sunday Evening Club -</p> - - </div> - </div> - <div class="tablemason"> - <div class="row"> -<p class="u cell"> -Mary Angell<br /> -Harold Bauer<br /> -Simon Buchhalter<br /> -Mme. Clara Butt and Kennerley Rumford<br /> -Campanini Concerts<br /> -Lina Cavalieri<br /> -Viola Cole<br /> -Charles W. Clark<br /> -Julia Claussen<br /> -Armand Crabbe<br /> -Helen Desmond<br /> -Mae Doelling<br /> -Jennie Dufau<br /> -Hector Dufranne<br /> -Marie Edwards<br /> -Clarence Eidam<br /> -Amy Evans<br /> -Cecil Fanning<br /> -Carl Flesch<br /> -Albert E. Fox -</p> - -<p class="u cell"> -Heinrich Gebhard<br /> -Arthur Granquist<br /> -Glenn Dillard Gunn<br /> -George Hamlin<br /> -Jane Osborne-Hannah<br /> -Gustave Huberdeau<br /> -Margaret Keyes<br /> -Ruth Klauber<br /> -Georgia Kober<br /> -Hugo Kortschak<br /> -Winifred Lamb<br /> -Marie White Longman<br /> -Ethel L. Marley<br /> -Theodore Militzer<br /> -Lucien Muratore<br /> -Prudence Neff<br /> -Edgar A. Nelson<br /> -Marx E. Oberndorfer<br /> -Rosa Olitzka<br /> -Agnes Hope Pillsbury<br /> -Edna Gunnar Peterson -</p> - -<p class="u cell"> -Mabel Riegelman<br /> -Edwin Schneider<br /> -Henri Scott<br /> -Allen Spencer<br /> -Walter Spry<br /> -Lucille Stevenson<br /> -Sarah Suttel<br /> -Belle Tannenbaum<br /> -Mrs. B. L. Taylor<br /> -Maggie Teyte<br /> -Della Thal<br /> -Jacques Thibaud<br /> -Rosalie Thornton<br /> -Cyrena Van Gordon<br /> -Edmond Warnery<br /> -Clarence Whitehill<br /> -James S. Whittaker<br /> -Henrietta Weber<br /> -Carolina White<br /> -Meda Zarbell<br /> -Alice Zeppilli -</p> - - </div> - </div> - <div class="tablemason"> - <div class="row"> -<p class="u cell"> -Official Piano of the North Shore Music Festival<br /> -Official Piano of the Boston Grand Opera Company -</p> - -<p class="u cell"> -Official Piano of the Chicago Grand Opera Company<br /> -Official Piano of the Philadelphia Grand Opera Company -</p> - - </div> - </div> - </div> -<p class="u ade"> -Mason & Hamlin<br /> -For sale only at the warerooms of the<br /> -<span class="underline"><em>Cable Piano Company</em></span><br /> -Wabash and Jackson -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<p> -<a id="page-65" class="pagenum" title="65"></a> -<em>If you want to read a clean, sweet, entertaining -story—one that will hold your interest -from start to finish—buy a copy of</em> -</p> - -<p class="h2 adh"> -The $10,000.00 Prize Novel -</p> - -<p> -Here are expectation -and enthusiasm -justified alike.... A -clear, clean, clever -romance.... It unrolls -itself as smoothly -and vividly as the film -of a motion-picture -drama. -</p> - -<p class="r"> -—<em>New York World.</em> -</p> - -<p> -Miss Dalrymple -has written a book -that is extraordinary -and of great proportions.... -It is a big -book.... A stirring, -entertaining and consistently -interesting -romance. -</p> - -<p class="r"> -—<em>Boston Globe.</em> -</p> - -<div class="centerpic"> -<img src="images/diane.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="h2 hidden adh"> -Diane<br /> -of the<br /> -Green Van -</p> - -<p class="h3 adh"> -<em>By Leona Dalrymple</em> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -Delightful Illustrations in Color -By Reginald Birch -</p> - -<p class="c"> -A Popular Success—Over 100,000 Sold. -Price, $1.35 Net -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="s c"> -Ready About June 10 -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -Nancy the Joyous. -</p> - -<p class="ads"> -A Novel of Pure Delight -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<em>By Edith Stow</em> -</p> - -<p> -We have never offered a book to the -public in which we had more confidence -of popular favor than we have for <b>Nancy -the Joyous</b>. It is simply bound to make -friends. -</p> - -<p> -A story of the Tennessee Mountains, -where the sweet-scented, colorful woodland -flowers abound, and where whimsical, -adorable and humorous Nancy, -’midst the sunshine of gladness and delight, -gains the love of the simple mountaineers -and learns the joy of living and -doing for others. -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -<em>Standard Novel Size. Beautiful cover and wrapper. -Frontispiece in color; decorative chapter headings.</em> -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -$1.00 Net -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="s c"> -Ready About June 20 -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -The New Mr. Howerson -</p> - -<p class="ads"> -An Interest-Compelling Novel -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<em>By Opie Read</em> -</p> - -<p> -It is over five years since the publication -of a book by Opie Read. He has -worked for four years on <b>The New Mr. -Howerson</b>, putting into it his ripened -views and the fulness of his art. It was -twice written with a pen, then turned into -a play, before being given its final revision. -It is a masterful piece of work. -</p> - -<p> -A powerful story with a big theme, -enlivened with the quaint humor and -philosophy that has made Opie Read -famous. -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -<em>Standard Novel Size. 460 pages. Handsome binding -and striking red wrapper.</em> -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -$1.35 Net -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="s c"> -A Human Interest Edition of a Unique Book. The Publisher’s Story Edition of -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -Miss Minerva and William Green Hill -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -<em>By Frances Boyd Calhoun</em> -</p> - -<p> -One of the most delightful books ever published. First issued in February, 1909, -over 150,000 copies have been sold. Now on press for the seventeenth time. -</p> - -<p class="adp"> -<em>Each copy of the new edition will be handsomely boxed and contain an attractive brochure carrying -a portrait of Mrs. Calhoun, her biography, and the “Publishers’ Story.” Price $1.00.</em> -</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="ade"> -Publishers Reilly & Britton Chicago -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ads chapter"> -<div class="centerpic fl"> -<a id="page-66" class="pagenum" title="66"></a><img src="images/houghtonl.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<div class="centerpic fr"> -<img src="images/houghtonr.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="h1 adh"> -Houghton Mifflin Company’s<br /> -Latest Books -</p> - -<p class="ada"> -Robert Herrick’s New Novel -</p> - -<p class="adb"> -CLARK’S FIELD -</p> - -<p> -“In this virile book, Mr. Herrick studies the part played by ‘unearned -increment’ in the life of a girl. 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Kandinsky -gives a critical sketch of the growth of the abstract ideal in art, forecasts -the future of the movement, and says in what way he considers Cubism to have -failed in its object. The fairness and generosity of his argument, together with -the interest of his own daring theories, will certainly attract the English as it has -attracted the German public, who called for three editions of the book within a -year of publication. -</p> - -<p class="r adp"> -<em>Illustrated, $1.75 net. Postage extra.</em> -</p> - -<p class="s ade"> -4 Park St. -Boston -</p> - -<p class="ade"> -Houghton Mifflin Company -</p> - -<p class="s ade"> -16 E. 40th St. -New York -</p> - -</div> - -<div class="trnote chapter"> -<p class="transnote"> -Transcriber’s Notes -</p> - -<p> -Advertisements were collected at the end of the text. -</p> - -<p class="skip_in_txt"> -The poem with rotated text on <a href="#page-13">page 13</a> is given both as scanned image -of the original printing and as transcribed text in order to represent its -shape as intended by the author. -</p> - -<p> -On <a href="#page-16">page 16</a>, there seems to be some text missing—perhaps a line—between -<a href="#misslin1"><em>Of course, the Romanticists contributed their ...</em></a> and -<a href="#misslin2"><em>... did this, so to speak, casually, while actually ...</em></a>. -This has been left as in the original since no other source for this text could be -identified. -</p> - -<p> -The original spelling was mostly preserved. A few obvious typographical errors -were silently corrected. All other changes are shown here (before/after): -</p> - - - -<ul> - -<li> -... The <span class="underline">cannon</span> is contained in one word: L’excessivisme. ...<br /> -... The <a href="#corr-4"><span class="underline">canon</span></a> is contained in one word: L’excessivisme. ...<br /> -</li> - -<li> -... Forum Stories, selected by Charles <span class="underline">Vail</span>. ...<br /> -... Forum Stories, selected by Charles <a href="#corr-12"><span class="underline">Vale</span></a>. ...<br /> -</li> - -<li> -... writers as <span class="underline">Reginal</span> Wright Kauffman, James ...<br /> -... writers as <a href="#corr-13"><span class="underline">Reginald</span></a> Wright Kauffman, James ...<br /> -</li> -</ul> -</div> - - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE REVIEW, JUNE 1914 (VOL. -1, NO. 4) *** - -This file should be named 63809-h.htm or 63809-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/0/63809/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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