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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..91cfd18 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66079 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66079) diff --git a/old/66079-0.txt b/old/66079-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d5ad0d3..0000000 --- a/old/66079-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9515 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Free Opinions, by Marie Corelli - -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: Free Opinions - Freely Expressed on Certain Phases of Modern Social Life and - Conduct - -Author: Marie Corelli - -Release Date: August 18, 2021 [eBook #66079] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREE OPINIONS *** - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber’s note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - - - -FREE OPINIONS - -FREELY EXPRESSED - - - - -CONSTABLE’S NEW 6/- NOVELS - - - _ROBERT W. CHAMBERS._ - - IN SEARCH OF THE UNKNOWN. - - _JOHN FOX_ (_Author of “The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come”_). - - CRITTENDEN. - - _MRS. STEPNEY RAWSON._ - - TALES OF RYE TOWN. - - _ERNEST GLANVILLE._ - - A ROUGH REFORMER. - - _UNA L. SILBERRAD._ - - THE WEDDING OF THE LADY OF LOVELL. - - _HELEN H. COLVILL._ - - THE STEPPING STONE. - - _MRS. COMYNS CARR._ - - JOHN FLETCHER’S MADONNA. - - _MAY SINCLAIR._ - - THE DIVINE FIRE. - -LONDON: -ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO. LTD. - - - - -FREE OPINIONS - -FREELY EXPRESSED - -ON - -Certain Phases of Modern Social -Life and Conduct - - -By - -MARIE CORELLI - -AUTHOR OF “GOD’S GOOD MAN” “TEMPORAL POWER” -“BARABBAS” “THE MASTER CHRISTIAN” ETC - - -LONDON -ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO LTD -1905 - - - - -BUTLER & TANNER, -THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS, -FROME, AND LONDON. - - - - - A Toi, Sauvage! - - “Si vous voulez combattre, - Il faut croire d’abord; - Il faut que le lutteur - Affirme la justice; - Il faut, pour le devoir - Qu’il s’offre au sacrifice, - Et qu’il soit le plus pur, - S’il n’est pas le plus fort.” - EUGÈNE MANUEL. - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE -A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION 1 - -THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS 14 - -“PAGAN LONDON” 29 - -A QUESTION OF FAITH 38 - -UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS 68 - -THE SOCIAL BLIGHT 79 - -THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY 89 - -THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH 98 - -AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND 117 - -THE AMERICAN BOUNDER 128 - -COWARD ADAM 143 - -ACCURSËD EVE 152 - -“IMAGINARY” LOVE 162 - -THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN 169 - -THE PALM OF BEAUTY 185 - -THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES 195 - -THE DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND 207 - -SOCIETY AND SUNDAY 233 - -THE “STRONG” BOOK OF THE ISHBOSHETH 245 - -THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS 252 - -THE PRAYER OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P. 262 - -THE THANKSGIVING OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P.’S WIFE 267 - -THE VANISHING GIFT 273 - -THE POWER OF THE PEN 292 - -THE GLORY OF WORK 310 - -THE HAPPY LIFE 326 - -THE SOUL OF THE NATION 340 - - - - -AUTHOR’S NOTE - - -Some of these social papers which are now collected together for the -first time, have appeared before in various periodicals enjoying -a simultaneous circulation in this country and the United States. -Eleven of them were written for an American syndicate, which (for the -purpose of copyright in Great Britain) sold them to a London weekly -journal, wherein they were duly issued. “Pagan London,” however, which -caused some little public discussion, was not included among those -supplied to the American syndicated press, that article having been -written specially for readers in this country as a protest against -Archdeacon Sinclair’s sweeping condemnation of the lax morality and -neglect of religion among the teeming millions that populate our -great English metropolis,--a condemnation which I ventured, and still -venture to think unfair, in the face of the open worldliness, and gross -inattention to the spiritual needs of their congregations on the part -of a very large majority of the clergy themselves. Certain people, -whose brains must be of that peculiar density which is incapable -of receiving even the impression of a shadow of common sense, have -since accused me of attacking “all” the clergy. Such an accusation is -unwarranted and unwarrantable, for no one appreciates more than I do -the brave, patient, self-denying and silent work of the true ministers -of the Gospel, who, seeking nothing for themselves, sacrifice all for -their Master. But it is just these noble clergy whose high profession -is degraded by the ever-increasing tribe of the false hypocrites of -their order, such as those mentioned in “Unchristian Clerics,” all -of whom have come within the radius of my own personal experience. I -readily admit that I have little patience with humbug of any kind, -and that “religious” humbug does always seem to me more like open -blasphemy than what is commonly called by that name. I equally confess -that I have no sympathy with any form of faith which needs continuous -blatant public advertisement in the press of a so-called “Christian” -country--nor do I believe in a Brass-band “revival” of what, if our -religion is religion at all, should never need “reviving.” I have put -forward these views plainly in “The Soul of the Nation,” which appears -for the first time in the present volume. - -I have only to add that I attach no other merit to such “opinions” as -will be found in the following pages, than that they are honest, and -that they are honestly expressed, without fear or favour. This is their -only claim upon the attention of the public. - -STRATFORD-ON-AVON, -_March, 1905_. - - - - -A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION - - -In days like these, when the necessity of Education, technical or -otherwise, is strenuously insisted upon by all the learned, worshipful, -governmental and dictatorial personages who “sit” on County Councils, -or talk the precious time recklessly away in Parliament without -apparently arriving at any decision of definite workable good for the -nation, it will not perhaps be considered obtrusive or intrusive if a -suggestion be put forward as to the importance of one point,-- - - -THE NECESSITY OF TEACHING PEOPLE TO READ. - -This essential of education is sadly lacking among the general majority -of “educated” persons in Great Britain, and I think I may say America. -Especially among those of the “upper” classes, in both countries. -When we speak of these “upper” classes, we mean of course those, who -by chance or fortune have been born either to such rank or to such -sufficient wealth as to be lifted above the toiling million, and -who may be presumed to have had all the physical, mental and social -advantages that tuition, training and general surroundings can give -them. Yet it is precisely among these that we find the ones who cannot -read, who frequently cannot spell, and whose handwriting is so bad as -to be well-nigh illegible. When it is said that they cannot read, -that statement is not intended to convey the idea that if a book or -newspaper be given to them they do not understand the letters or the -print in which the reading matter is presented to their eyes. They -do. But such letters and such print impress no meaning upon their -minds. Anyone can prove this by merely asking them what they have been -reading. In nine cases out of ten they “don’t know.” And if they ever -did know, during one unusual moment of brain-activity, they “forget.” -The thinking faculty is, with them, like a worn-out sieve, through -which everything runs easily and drops to waste. The news of the day, -be it set forth never so boldly in no matter what startlingly stout -headlines, barely excites their interest for more than a second. -They may perhaps glance at a couple of newspaper placards and lazily -observe, “Russia at it again,” but of the ins and outs of policy, the -difficulties of Government, the work of nations, they grasp absolutely -nothing. Thus it happens that when they are asked their opinion on -any such events of the hour as may be making history in the future, -they display their utter ignorance in such a frankly stupid fashion -that any intelligent enquirer is bound to be stunned by their lack -of knowledge, and will perhaps murmur feebly: “Have you not read the -news?” to which will come the vague reply: “Oh, yes, I read all the -newspapers! But I really don’t remember the particulars just now!” What -they do remember--these “cultured” persons, (and the more highly they -are cultured, the more tenacious appears to be their memory in this -respect)--is a divorce case. They always read that carefully over and -over again. They comment upon it afterwards with such gusto as to make -it quite evident to the merest tyro, that they have learned all its -worst details by heart. If they can only revel in the published shame -and disgrace of one or two of their very “dearest” friends, they enjoy -and appreciate that kind of mental fare more than all the beautiful -poems and idyllic romances ever written. - -The “million” have long ago learned to read,--and are reading. The last -is the most important fact, and one which those who seek to govern them -would do well to remember. For their reading is of a most strange, -mixed, and desultory order--and who can say what wondrous new notions -and disturbing theories may not leap out sprite-like from the witch’s -cauldron of seething ideas round which they gather, watching the -literary “bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,” wherein the “eye of newt -and toe of frog” in the book line may contrast with something which is -altogether outside the boiling hotch-potch,--namely that “sick eagle -looking at the sky” which is the true symbol of the highest literary -art. But the highest literary art, particularly in its poetic form, is -at a discount nowadays. And why? Simply because even the million do -not know “how” to read. Moreover, it is very difficult to make them -learn. They have neither the skill nor the patience to study beautiful -thoughts expressed in beautiful language. They want to “rush” something -through. Whether poem, play, or novel, it must be “rushed through” and -done with. Very few authors’ work, if any, can be sure of an honest and -unprejudiced reading, either by those whose business it is to review -it for the press, or those whose pleasure it is to “skim” it for -themselves. “They have no time.” They have time for motoring, cycling, -card-playing, racing, betting, hockey and golf,--anything in short -which does not directly appeal to the intellectual faculties,--but for -real reading, they can neither make leisure, nor acquire aptitude. - -This vague, sieve-like quality of brain and general inability to -comprehend or retain impressions of character or events, which is -becoming so common among modern so-called “readers” of books, can but -make things very difficult for authors who seek to contribute something -of their utmost and best to the world of literature. Most men and -women who feel the “divine afflatus,” and who are able to write in a -style above the average, must be conscious of a desire to rise yet -higher than any of their own attempted efforts, and to do something -new, strong, and true enough to hold life and lasting in it when other -contemporary work is forgotten. It is the craving of the “sick eagle -looking at the sky” perhaps, nevertheless it is a noble craving. In -taking an aim, it is as well to let fly at the moon, even if one only -hits a tree. But when fiery-footed Pegasus would fain gallop away with -its rider into the realms of imagination and enchantment,--when the -aspiring disciple of literature, all aglow with freshness and fervour, -strives to catch some new spirit of thought as it rushes past on its -swift wings, or seeks to create some fair consoling idyll of human -circumstance, then all the publishers stand massed in the way and cry -“Halt!” “Don’t let us have any great ideas!” they say--“They are above -the heads of the public. Be domestic--be matrimonially iniquitous,--be -anything in the line of fiction but ‘great.’ Don’t give us new things -to think about,--the public have no time to think. What they want is -just something to glance at between tea and dinner.” - -Now this condition of affairs, which is positively disastrous to all -literary art, is brought about by the lack of the one vital point in -the modern education of the British and American people,--namely, that -they have not been taught “how” to read. As a result of this, they -frequently pronounce a book “too long” or “too dull,”--too this, or too -that, without having looked at more than perhaps twenty pages of its -contents. They will skim over any amount of cheap newspapers and trashy -society “weeklies” full of the unimportant movements and doings of he -and she and they, but to take up a book with any serious intention of -reading it thoroughly, is a task which only the thoughtful few will -be found ready to undertake. What is called the appreciation of the -“belles lettres” is indeed “caviare to the general.” Knowledge brings -confidence; and if it were made as much the fashion to read as it is to -ride in motor-cars, some improvement in manners and conduct might be -the happy result of such a prevailing taste. But as matters stand at -the present day, there are a large majority of the “educated” class, -who actually do not know the beginnings of “how” to read. They have -never learned--and some of them will never learn. They cannot realize -the unspeakable delight and charm of giving one’s self up to one’s -author, _sans_ prejudice, _sans_ criticism, _sans_ everything that -could possibly break or mar the spell, and being carried on the wings -of gentle romance away from Self, away from the everyday cares and -petty personalities of social convention, and observance, and living -“with” the characters which have been created by the man or woman whose -fertile brain and toiling pen have unitedly done their best to give -this little respite and holiday to those who will take it and rejoice -in it with gratitude. - -Few there are nowadays who will so permit themselves to be carried -away. Far larger is the class of people who take up a novel or a -volume of essays, merely to find fault with it and fling it aside half -unread. The attitude of the bad-tempered child who does not know what -toy to break next, is the attitude of many modern readers. Nothing is -more manifestly unfair to an author than to judge a book by the mere -“skimming” of its pages, and this injustice becomes almost felonious -when the merits or demerits of the work are decided without reading it -at all. For instance, Smith meets Jones in the train which is taking -them out to their respective “little places” in the country, and says: - -“Have you read So-and-So’s latest book? If not, don’t!” Whereupon -Jones murmurs: “Really! So bad as all that! Have _you_ read it?” -To which Smith rejoins rudely: “No! And don’t intend! I’ve _heard_ -all about it!” And Jones, acquiescing feebly, decides that he must -“taboo” that book, also its author, lest perhaps Mrs. Jones’ virtue -be put to the blush at the mention of either. Now if Smith dared to -condemn a tradesman in this way, and depreciated his goods to Jones -in such wise that the latter should be led to avoid him altogether, -that tradesman could claim damages for injuring his character and -depriving him of custom. Should not the same rule apply to authors when -they are condemned on mere hearsay? Or when their work is wilfully -misrepresented and misquoted in the press? - -It may not, perhaps, be considered out of place here to recall a -“personal reminiscence” of the wilful misrepresentation made to a -certain section of the public of a novel of mine entitled “Temporal -Power.” That book had scarcely left the printer’s hands when W. T. -Stead, of the _Review of Reviews_, wrote me a most cordial letter, -congratulating me on the work, and averring that it was “the best” -of all I had done. But in his letter he set forth the startling -proposition that I “must have meant” King Edward, our own gracious -Sovereign, for my “fictional” King, Queen Alexandra for the Queen, -the Prince of Wales for my “Prince Humphry,” and Mr. Chamberlain for -the defaulting Secretary of State, who figures in the story as “Carl -Perousse.” I was so amazed at this curious free translation of my -ideas, that at first I thought it was “Julia” who had thus persuaded -Mr. Stead to see things upside down. But as his criticism of the book -had not yet appeared in the _Review of Reviews_, I wrote to him at -once, and earnestly assured him of the complete misapprehension he -had made of my whole scope and intention. Despite this explanation on -my part, however, Mr. Stead wrote and published a review of the book -maintaining his own fabricated “case” against me, notwithstanding -the fact that he held my denial of his assertions in his possession -_before_ the publication of his criticism! And though a dealer in -meat, groceries, and other food stuffs may obtain compensation if his -wares are wilfully misrepresented to the buying public, the purveyor -of thoughts or ideas has no remedy when such thoughts or ideas are -deliberately and purposefully falsified to the world through the press. -Yet the damage is surely as great,--and the injury done to one’s honest -intention quite as gratuitous. From this little incident occurring to -myself, I venture to say in reference to the assertion that people do -not know how to read, that if those who “rushed” through the misleading -criticism of “Temporal Power” had honestly read the book so criticized -for themselves, they would have seen at once how distorted was Mr. -Stead’s view of the whole story. But,--while many who had read the book -and _not_ the review, laughed at the bare notion of there being any -resemblance between my fictional hero-king of romance and the Sovereign -of the British Empire, others, reading the review only, foolishly -decided that I must have written some “travesty” upon English royalty, -and condemned the book _without reading it_. This is what all authors -have a right to complain of,--the condemnation or censure of their -books by persons who have not read them. For though there never was so -much reading matter put before the public, there was never less actual -“reading” in the truest and highest sense of the term than there is at -present. - -To read, as I take it, means to sit down quietly and enjoy a book in -its every line and expression. Whether it be tragic or humourous, -simple or ornate, it has been written to beguile us from our daily -routine of life, and to give us a little change of thought or mood. -It may please us, or it may make us sad--it may even anger us by -upsetting our pet theories and contradicting us on our own lines of -argument; but if it has taken us away for a time from ourselves, it -has fulfilled the greater part of its mission, and done us a good -turn. Those who have really learned to read, are no encouragers of the -Free Library craze. The true lover of books will never want to peruse -volumes that are thumbed and soiled by hundreds of other hands--he or -she will manage to buy them and keep them as friends in the private -household. Any book, save the most expensive “édition de luxe,” can -be purchased for a few shillings,--a little saving on drugged beer -and betting would enable the most ordinary mechanic to stock himself -with a very decent library of his own. To borrow one’s mental fare -from Free Libraries is a dirty habit to begin with. It is rather like -picking up eatables dropped by some one else in the road, and making -one’s dinner off another’s leavings. One book, clean and fresh from the -bookseller’s counter, is worth half a dozen of the soiled and messy -knock-about volumes, which many of our medical men assure us carry -disease-germs in their too-frequently fingered pages. Free Libraries -are undoubtedly very useful resorts for betting men. They can run in, -glance at the newspapers for the latest “Sporting Items” and run out -again. But why ratepayers should support such houses of call for these -gentry remains a mystery which one would have to pierce through all -the Wool and Wobble of Municipal Corporations to solve. An American -“professor”--(there are so many of them) spoke to me the other day in -glowing terms of Andrew Carnegie. “He’s cute, you bet!” he remarked, -“he goes one better than Pears’ Soap! Pears has got to pay for the -upkeep of his hoardings, but Carnegie plants his down in the shape of -libraries and gets the British ratepayer to keep them all going! Ain’t -he spry!” - -Poor British ratepayer! It is to be feared he is easily gulled! -But,--to return to the old argument--if he knew “how” to read--really -knew,--he would not be so easily taken in, even by the schemes of -philanthropy. He would buy his books himself, and among them he might -even manage to secure a copy of a very interesting volume published in -America, so I am given to understand, which tells us how Carnegie made -his millions, and how he sanctioned the action of the Pinkerton police -force in firing on his men when they “struck” for higher wages. - -Apropos of America and things American, there is just now a pretty -little story started in the press on both sides of the water, about -British novels and British authors no longer being wanted in the United -States. The Children of the Eagle are going to make their fiction -themselves. All power to their elbows! But British authors will do -themselves no harm by enquiring carefully into this report. It may -even pay some of them to send over a private agent on their own behalf -to study the American book stores, and take count of the thousands of -volumes of British fiction which are selling there “like hot cakes,” to -quote a choice expression of Transatlantic slang. It is quite evident -that the Children of the Eagle purchase British fiction. It is equally -evident that the publishers who cater for the Children of the Eagle -are anxious to get British fiction cheap, and are doing this little -deal of the “No demand” business from an acute sense of urgency. It is -all right, of course! If I were an American publisher and had to pay -large prices to popular British authors for popular British fiction -(now that “piracy” is no longer possible), I should naturally tell -those British authors that they are not wanted in America, and that it -is very good and condescending of me to consider their wares at all. -I should give a well-known British author from £100 to £500 for the -sole American rights of his or her newest production, and proceed to -make £5,000 or £7,000 profit out of it. That kind of thing is called -“business.” I should never suspect the British author of being so base -as to send over and get legal statements as to how his or her book was -selling, or to take note of the thousands of copies stacked up every -day in the stores, to be melted away as soon as stacked, in the hands -of eager purchasers. No! As a strictly honourable person, I should -hope that the British author would stay at home and mind his or her -own business. But let us suppose that the American publisher’s latest -delicate “feeler” respecting the “No demand for British literature” -were true, it would seem that Americans, even more than the British, -require to be taught “how” to read. If one may judge from their own -output of literature, the lesson is badly needed. Ralph Waldo Emerson -remains, as yet, their biggest literary man. He knew “how” to read, -and from that knowledge learned “how” to write. But no American author -has come after him that can be called greater than he, or as great. -Concerning the art of fiction, the present American “make” is, whatever -the immediate “catching on” of it may be, distinctly ephemera of the -utmost ephemeral. Such “literature” would not exist even in America, if -Americans knew “how” to read. What is called the “Yellow Journalism” -would not exist either. Why? Because a really educated reader of things -worth reading would not read it--and it would therefore be a case of -the wicked ceasing to trouble and the weary being at rest. - -There is a general complaint nowadays--especially among authors--of -the “decadence” of literature. It is true enough. But the cause of the -“decadence” is the same--simply and solely that people cannot and will -not read. They do not know “how” to do it. If they ever did know in the -bygone days of Dickens and Thackeray, they have forgotten. Every book -is “too long” for them. Yet scarcely any novel is published now as long -as the novels of Dickens, which were so eagerly devoured at one time by -tens of thousands of admiring readers. A short, risky, rather “nasty” -book, (reviewers would call it strong, but that is only a little joke -of theirs,--they speak of this kind of literature as though it were -cheese) finds most favour with the “upper” circles of society in Great -Britain and America. Not so with the “million” though. The million -prefer simpler fare--and they read a good deal--though scarcely in the -right way. It is always more a case of “skimming” than reading. If -they are ever taught the right way to read, they may become wiser than -any political government would like them to be. For right reading makes -right thinking--and right thinking makes right living--and right living -would result in what? Well! For one thing, members of councils and -other “ruling” bodies would be lazier than ever, with less to do--and -the Education Act would no longer be necessary, as the fact of simply -knowing “how” to read, would educate everybody without further trouble. - -Dear Sir or Madam,--read! Don’t “skim”! Learn your letters! Study the -pronunciation and meaning of words thoroughly first, and then you may -proceed to sentences. Gradually you will be able to master a whole -passage of prose or poetry in such a manner as actually to understand -it. That will be a great thing! And once you understand it, you may -even possibly remember it! And then,--no matter how much you may have -previously been educated,--your education will only have just begun. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS - - -Not very long ago a Royal hint was given by one of the wisest and most -tactful among the great throned Rulers of the world, to that other -ruling power which is frequently alluded to as “the Fourth Estate.” -Edward the Seventh, King by the Grace of God over Great Britain and -all the dependencies which flourish under the sign of the Rose, -Shamrock and Thistle, using that courteous and diplomatic manner which -particularly belongs to him, expressed his “hope” that the Gentlemen -of the Press would do their best to foster amity and goodwill between -the British Empire and other nations. Now amongst the many kindly, -thoughtful, sagacious and farsighted things which His Majesty has done -since he ascended the English Throne, that highest seat of honour in -the world--perhaps this mild and friendly suggestion to the Press is -one of the most pointed, necessary and admirable. It is a suggestion -which, if accepted in the frank, manly and magnanimous spirit in -which it has been conveyed, would make for the peace of Europe. Petty -insult often begets serious strife, and the cheap sneer of a would-be -“smart” journalist at another country’s governmental mistakes may lead -to consequences undreamt of in newspaper-office philosophy. Yet the -journalist, as journalist, is scarcely to blame if, in a praiseworthy -desire to give a “selling” impetus to the paper on which he is -employed, he gets up a little bit of speculative melodrama, such as -“German Malignity,” “Russian Trickery,” “Mysterious Movements of the -Fleet,” “French Insult to the King,” “America’s Secret Treaty,” or -“Alarming Eastern Rumours.” He is perhaps not in any way departing -from his own special line of business if he counts on the general -gullibility of the public, though in this matter he is often liable to -be himself gulled. For the public have been so frequently taken in by -mere “sensationalism” in war news and the like, that they are beginning -to view all such rumours with more contempt than credence. Nevertheless -the ambitious little Press boys (for they are only boys in their lack -of discernment, whatever may be their external appearance as grown -men) do not deserve so much reproof for their hot-headed, impulsive -and thoughtless ways as the personages set in authority over them, -whose business it is to edit their “copy” before passing it on to the -printers. _They_ are the responsible parties,--and when they forget the -dignity of their position so much as to allow a merely jejune view of -the political situation to appear in their journals, under flamboyant -headlines which catch the eye and ensnare the attention of the more -or less uninstructed crowd, one naturally deplores the lapse of their -honourable duty. For in this way a great deal of harm may be done and -endless misunderstanding and mischief created. It is quite wrong and -wholly unpatriotic that the newspapers of any country should strive to -foster ill-feeling between conflicting nations or political parties. -When they engage in this kind of petty strife one is irresistibly -reminded of the bad child in the nursery who, seeing his two little -brothers quarrelling, cries out: “Go it, Tom! Go it, Jack! Hit him in -the eye!” and then, when the hit is given and mutual screams follow, -runs to his mother with the news--“Ma! Tom and Jack are fighting!” -carefully suppressing the fact that he helped to set them at it. And -when the trouble begins to be serious, and national recriminations are -freely exchanged, it is curious to note how quickly the Press, on both -sides, assumes the attitude of an almost matronly remonstrance. One -hears in every leading article the “How can you behave so, Jack? What a -naughty boy you are, Tom! Positively, I am ashamed of you both!” - -There would be no greater force existing in the world as an aid to -civilization and human fraternity than the Press, if its vast powers -were employed to the noblest purposes. It ought to resemble a mighty -ship, which, with brave, true men at the helm, moves ever on a straight -course, cleaving the waters of darkness and error, and making direct -for the highest shores of peace and promise. But it must be a ship -indeed,--grandly built, nobly manned, and steadily steered,--not a -crazy, water-logged vessel, creaking with the thud of every wave, or -bobbing backwards and forwards uncertainly in a gale. Its position -at the present day is, or appears to be, rather the latter than the -former. Unquestionably the people, taken in the mass, do not rely -upon it. They read the newspapers--but they almost immediately forget -everything in them except the headlines and one or two unpleasant -police cases. And why do they forget? Simply because first of all they -are not sufficiently interested; and, secondly, because they do not -believe the news they read. A working man told me the other day that he -had been saving sixpence a week on two halfpenny papers which he had -been accustomed to take in for the past year. “I found ’em out in ten -lies, all on top of one another, in two weeks,” he candidly explained; -“and so I thought I might as well keep my money for something more -useful. So I started putting the halfpence by for my little kiddie, and -I’m going to stick to it. There’s five shillings in the Savings Bank -already!” - -Glancing back to the early journalism of the past century, when Dickens -and Thackeray wrote for the newspapers (“there were giants in those -days”), one cannot help being struck by the great deterioration in the -whole “tone” of the press at the present time, as contrasted with that -which prevailed in the dawn of the Victorian era. There is dignity, -refinement, and power in the leading articles of the _Times_ and other -journals then in vogue, such as must needs have compelled people not -only to read, but to think. The vulgar “personal” note, the flippant -sneer at this, that, or t’other personage,--the monkey-like mockery of -women,--the senseless gibes flung at poets and poetry,--the clownish -kick at sentiment,--were all apparently unknown. - -True it is that the _Times_ still holds its own as a journal in -which one may look in vain for “sensationalism” but its position is -rather like that of a grim old lion surrounded by cubs of all sizes -and ages, that yap and snap at its whiskers and take liberties with -its tail. It can be said, however, that all the better, higher-class -periodicals are in the same situation--the yapping and snapping goes -on around them precisely in the same way--“Circulation Five Times as -Large as that of any Penny Morning Journal,” etcetera, etcetera. And -the question of the circulation of any particular newspaper resolves -itself into two points,--first, the amount of money it puts into the -pockets of its proprietors or proprietor,--and secondly, the influence -it has, or is likely to have, on the manners and morals of the public. -The last is by far the most important matter, though the first is -naturally the leading motive of its publication. Herein we touch the -keynote of responsibility. How, and in what way are the majority of -people swayed or affected by the statements and opinions of some one -man or several men employed on the world’s press? On this point it -may perhaps be asked whether any newspaper is really justified in -setting before readers of all ages and temperaments, a daily fare of -suicides, murders, divorce-cases, sudden deaths, or abnormal “horrors” -of every kind to startle, depress or warp the mind away from a sane -and healthful outlook upon life and the things of life in general? A -very brilliant and able journalist tells me that “if we don’t put these -things in, we are so deadly dull!” One can but smile at this candid -statement of inefficiency. The idea that there can be any “lively” -reading in the sorrowful details of sickness, crime or mania, leaves -much room for doubt. And when it is remembered how powerfully the human -mind is affected by suggestion, it is surely worth while enquiring -as to whether the newspapers could not manage to offer their readers -noble and instructive subjects of thought, rather than morbid or -degrading ones. Fortunately for all classes, the bulk of what may be -called “magazine literature” makes distinctly for the instruction and -enlightenment of the public, and though a “gutter press” exists in -Great Britain, as in America, a great portion of the public are now -educated enough to recognize its type and to treat it with the contempt -it merits. I quote here part of a letter which recently appeared in the -_Westminster Gazette_ signed “Observer,” and entitled: - - - “A PRESS-GOVERNED EMPIRE. - - “To the Editor of the _Westminster Gazette_. - - “SIR,--We have it on the highest authority that the Government - acts on the same information as is at the disposal of ‘the man in - the street’ (_vide_ Mr. Balfour at Manchester). The man in the - street obviously must depend on the Press for his information. How - has the Press served him? - - “Let me take a recent illustration. A great experiment was - to be made by the Navy. A battleship with all its tremendous - armament was to pound a battleship. Naturally the Press was well - represented, and the public was eager for its report. - - “In due course a narrative appeared describing the terrible havoc - wrought. The greatest stress was laid upon the instant ignition - and complete destruction by fire of all the woodwork on the doomed - ship. Elaborate leading articles appeared enforcing the lesson - that wood was no longer a possible material for the accessory - furniture of a battleship. - - “A day or two after, a quiet answer in the House of Commons from - Mr. Goschen informed the limited public who read it, that no fire - whatever had occurred on the occasion so graphically described by - the host of Press correspondents. - - “The events dealt with on these occasions took place in our own - country, and under our own eyes, so to speak. If such untrue - reports are set forth with the verisimilitude of accurate and - detailed personal description of eye-witnesses, what are we to say - of the truth in the reports of events occurring at a distance? - - “Special knowledge, special experience long continued, speaking - under a sense of responsibility, are set at nought. The regular - channels of information are neglected, and the conduct of affairs - is based on newspaper reports. Any private business conducted - and managed on these lines would be immediately ruined. The - business of the Empire is more important, and the results of its - mismanagement are more serious. For how long will it be possible - to continue its management, trusting to the light thrown on events - by an irresponsible Press?” - - * * * * * - -The “irresponsibility” here complained of comes out perhaps more often -and most glaringly in those papers which profess to chronicle the -sayings and doings of kings and queens, prime ministers, and personages -more or less well known in the world of art, letters and society. In -nine cases out of ten, the journalist who reports these sayings and -doings has never set eyes on the people about whom he writes with such -a free and easy flippancy. Even if he has, his authority to make their -conversation public may be questioned. It is surely not too much to ask -of the editors of newspapers that they should, by applying directly to -the individuals concerned, ascertain whether such and such a statement -made to them is true before giving it currency. A couple of penny -stamps expended in private correspondence would settle the matter to -the satisfaction of both parties. - -“Personalities,” however, would seem to be greatly in vogue. Note the -following: - -“At seven o’clock the King left the hotel and walked to the spring to -drink more of the water. Altogether, His Majesty has to drink about a -quart of the water every morning, before breakfast. - -“Standing among the throng, in which every type and nationality of -humanity was represented, the King sipped his second pint glass of -water. - -“After drinking the quart of water, the regulations laid down for the -‘cure’ further require the King to walk for two hours before eating a -morsel of food. - -“This His Majesty performed by pacing up and down the promenade from -the Kruez spring at one end, to the Ferdinand spring at the other. - -“Notwithstanding all the appeals of the local authorities to the -visitors, King Edward was[1]_much greatly_ inconvenienced by the -snobbish curiosity of the crowd.” - -One may query whether “the snobbish curiosity of the crowd” or the -snobbish information as to how “the King sipped his second pint glass -of water” was the more reprehensible. Of course there are both men and -women who delight in the personalities of the Press, especially when -they concern themselves. Many ladies of rank and title are only too -happy to have their dresses described to the man in the street, and -their physical charms discussed by Tom, Dick and Harry. And when the -Press is amiable enough to oblige them in these little yearnings for -personal publicity, let us hope that the labourer, being worthy of his -hire, hath his reward. - -The following extract, taken from a daily journal boasting a large -circulation, can be called little less than a pandering to the lowest -tastes of the abandoned feminine snob, as well as a flagrant example -of the positively criminal recklessness with which irresponsible -journalists permit themselves to incite, by their flamboyant praise -of the _demi-mondaine_, the envy and cupidity of thoughtless girls -and women, who perhaps but for the perusal of such tawdry stuff, -would never have known of, or half-unconsciously coveted the -dress-and-diamond gew-gaws which are the common reward of female -degradation and dishonesty: - - - “Miss W., a young American actress, has burst upon London. She has - brought back from Paris to the Savoy Hotel, along with her golden - hair and lovely brown eyes, an enormous jewel-case, innumerable - dress-baskets--and a story. It concerns herself and how she - made a fortune on the Paris Bourse, and she told it to our - representative yesterday. - - “She is an American, and was eating candy when she met M. J---- - L----. ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘give up stick and buy stock.’ She ‘took - the tip,’ she says, and staked her fortune--every penny--on the - deal. A fortnight later she came back one night to her flat in the - Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, from the Olympia, where she plays a - leading part. A telegram from her bankers was waiting. It said: - ‘You have been successful.’ ‘Next day,’ says Miss W., ‘I called on - those bankers and picked up the £20,000 I had made.’ - - “INVETERATE GAMBLER. - - “‘Wonderful, wasn’t it?’ said Miss W., and our representative - agreed that it was. ‘Oh, but it was a mere nothing!’ she said. ‘I - have gambled since I was seven. Then I used to bet in pop-corn and - always won. At seventeen I was quite ‘a dab’ at spotting winners - on the Turf. - - “‘Monte Carlo? Oh, yes. I won a trifle there this year--£800 or - so. And Trouville! Why, you may not believe it, but I won £4,000 - there this year in a few weeks. - - “‘Of course, I don’t know the tricks of the Stock Exchange, though - I was once chased by a bull,’ observed Miss W., with a smile. - ‘Still, I think I’ll stick to it.’ - - “Opposite the Bourse is a shop where fashionable Parisians buy - their furs. She spent £1,600 in a sable coat and hat on the day - that the Bourse made her. Her other purchases include:-- - - - Paris hats to the value of £200. - A robe of baby lamb, £150. - Fifteen Paquin gowns. - Two long fur coats. - Five short fur coats. - Three sets of furs. - - - “She also admits that she bought such trifles in the way of - jewellery as:-- - - - A corsage with thirteen large diamonds. - Eighteen rows of pearls. - Eighteen diamond rings. - Two diamond butterflies. - One emerald ring. - Several pendants. - - - “Diamonds, says Miss W., are the joy of her life. Each night on - the stage of the Olympia she wears between £30,000 and £40,000 - worth of jewellery.” - - -The woman who confides her wardrobe list and the prices of her clothes -to a Fleet Street hack of the pen is far gone past recall, but her -manner of misdemeaning herself should not be proclaimed in the Press -under “headings” as if it were news of importance to the country; and -it would not be so proclaimed were the Press entirely, instead of only -partially, in the hands of educated men. - -In olden days it would seem that a great part of the responsibility -of the Press lay in its criticism of art and literature. That burden, -however, no longer lies upon its shoulders. Since the people began -to read for themselves, newspaper criticism, so far as books are -concerned, carries little weight. When some particular book secures -a great success, we read this kind of thing about it: “In argument, -intrigue and style it captures the fancy of the masses without -attracting the slightest attention from the critical and discriminating -few whose approval alone gives any chance of permanence to work.” This -is, of course, very old hearing. “The critical and discriminating few” -in Italy long ago condemned Dante as a “vulgar” rhymer, who used the -“people’s vernacular.” Now the much-abused Florentine is the great -Italian classic. The same “critical and discriminating few” condemned -John Keats, who is now enrolled among the chiefest of English poets. -Onslaughts of the bitterest kind were hurled at the novels of Charles -Dickens by the “critical and discriminating few”--in the great writer’s -time--but he “captured the fancy of the masses” and lives in the hearts -and homes of thousands for whom the “critical and discriminating few” -might just as well never have existed. And when we look up the names -of the “critical and discriminating few” in our own day, we find, -strange to say, that they are all disappointed authors! All of them -have-written poems or novels, which are failures. So we must needs pity -their “criticism” and “discrimination” equally, knowing the secret -fount of gall from which these delicate emotions spring. At the same -time, the “responsibility” of the Press might still be appealed to in -literary, dramatic and artistic matters as, for example: - -Why allow an unsuccessful artist to criticize a successful picture? - -Why ask an unlucky playwright who cannot get even a farce accepted by -the managers, to criticize a brilliant play? - -Why depute a gentleman or lady who has “essayed” a little unsuccessful -fiction to “review” a novel which has “captured the fancy of the -masses” and is selling well? - -These be weighty matters! Common human nature is common human nature -all the world over, and it is not in common human nature to give -praise to another for qualities we ourselves envy. Every one has -not the same fine endowment of generosity as Sir Walter Scott, who -wrote an anonymous review of Lord Byron’s poems, giving them the most -enthusiastic praise, and frankly stating that after the appearance of -so brilliant a luminary of genius, Walter Scott could no longer be -considered worthy of attention as a poet. What rhymer of to-day would -thus nobly condemn himself in order to give praise to a rival? - -May it not, with due respect, be suggested to those who have the -handling of such matters that neither the avowed friends nor the avowed -foes of authors be permitted to review their books?--the same rule -of criticism to apply equally to the works of musicians, painters, -sculptors and playwrights? Neither personal prejudice nor personal -favouritism should be allowed to interfere with the impression produced -on the mind by a work of art. Vulgar abuse and fervid eulogy are -alike out of place. In the productions of the human brain nothing -is wholly bad and nothing is wholly good. Perfection is impossible -of attainment on our present plane of existence. We do not find it -in Nature,--still less shall we find it in ourselves. The critic -can show good in everything if he himself is of a good mind. Or he -can show bad in everything as easily, should his digestion be out -of order. Unfortunately the “wear and tear of life”--to quote the -patent medicine advertisements, wreaks natural havoc on the physical -composition of the gentleman who is perhaps set down to review twenty -novels in one column of print for the trifling sum of a guinea. All -sorts of difficulties beset him. For instance, he may be employed on -a certain “literary” paper which, being the property of the relatives -of a novelist, exists chiefly to praise that novelist, even though it -be curiously called an “organ of English literature,”--and woe betide -the miserable man who dares to praise anyone else! Knowing much of the -ins and outs of the literary grind, I tender my salutations to all -reviewers of books, together with my respectful sympathy. I am truly -sorry for them, and I do not in the least wonder that they hate with -a deadly hatred every scribbling creature who writes a “long” novel. -Because the “pay” for reviewing such a book is never in proportion to -its length, as of course it ought to be. But anyway it doesn’t matter -how much or how little of it is criticized. The bulk of the public do -not read reviews. That is left to the “discriminating few.” And oh, -how that “discriminating few” would love to “capture the fancy of the -masses” if they could only manage to do it! Yet--“Never mind!” they -say, with the tragedian’s glare and scowl--“Our names will be inscribed -upon the scroll of fame when all ye are forgotten!” Dear things! Heaven -grant them this poor comfort in their graves! - -One cannot but regret that in these days of wonderful research, -discovery and invention, so little is done to popularize science in the -columns of the daily Press. The majority of the public are appallingly -ignorant of astronomy for instance. Would it not be as interesting to -instruct them in a simple and easy style as to the actual wonders of -the heavens about us, as to fill their minds with the details of a -murder? I hardly like to touch on the subject of geography, for out of -fifteen “educated” persons I asked the question of recently, not one -knew the actual situation on the map, of Tibet. Now it seems to me that -the Press could work wonders in the way of education,--much more than -the “Bill” will ever do. Books on science and learning are often sadly -dull and generally expensive, and the public cannot afford to buy them -largely, nor do they ask for them much at the libraries. If the daily -journals made it a rule to give bright picturesque articles on some -grand old truths or great new discoveries of science, such a course -of procedure would be far more productive of good than any amount of -“Short Sermons” such as we have lately heard discussed in various -quarters. For the Press is a greater educational force than the Pulpit. -In its hands it has the social moulding of a people, and the dignity -of a nation as represented to other nations. There could hardly be a -nobler task,--there can certainly never be a higher responsibility. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] Copied _verbatim_ from the Press report. - - - - -“PAGAN LONDON” - - -London is “a pagan city.” Such was the uncompromising verdict lately -pronounced upon it by the Venerable Archdeacon Sinclair, of great -St. Paul’s. “A pagan city”--he said, or was reported to say--“with -churches glimmering here and there like fairy lamps twinkling in the -spaces of darkness upon a lawn. Like fairy lamps, they serve to show -the darkness rather than to illuminate it.” It was in a manner striking -and curious that the Archdeacon should have chosen such a simile as -“fairy lamps” for the Churches. It was an unconsciously happy hit--no -doubt absolutely unintentional. But it described the Churches of to-day -with marvellous exactitude. They are “fairy lamps”--no more!--only -fit for show--of no use in a storm--and quenched easily with a -strong puff of wind. Fairy lamps!--not strong or steady beacons--not -lighthouses in the rough sea of life, planted bravely on impregnable -rocks of faith to which the drowning sailor may cling for rescue and -haply find life again. Fairy lamps! Multiply them by scores, good -Archdeacon!--quadruple them in every corner of this “pagan” city of -ours, over which the heart of every earnest thinker must yearn with a -passion of love and pity, and they shall be no use whatever to light -the blackness of one soul’s midnight of despair! “Pagan London!” The -roaring, rushing crowd--the broad deep river of suffering, working, -loving, struggling humanity, sweeping on, despite itself, to the -limitless sea of Death,--every unit in the mass craving for sympathy, -praying for guidance, longing for comfort, trying to discover ways out -of pain and grief, and hoping to find God somehow and somewhere--and -naught but “fairy lamps”--twinkling doubtfully, making the gloom more -visible, the uncertainty of the gathering shadows more confusing and -misleading!--“fairy lamps” of which the “Church of the Laodiceans,” so -strongly reproved by the “Spirit” in the Revelation of St. John the -Divine, must have been the originator and precursor--“I know thy works, -that thou art neither cold nor hot; I would thou wert cold or hot. So, -because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee -out of my mouth!” - -It is perhaps to be doubted whether any Churchman, no matter how -distinguished, learned, fashionable or popular, has the right to call -London or any city which is under the Christian dispensation “pagan.” -No one man can honestly say he has probed the heart of another,--and -if this be true, as it undoubtedly is, still less can one man assume -to judge the faith or the emotions of six million hearts--six million -striving, working and struggling souls. That even a handful of the -six million should still wander towards “fairy lamp” Churches, in -the hope to find warmth and luminance for their poor lives in such -flickering and easily quenched sparks of life, speaks volumes for the -touching faith, the craving hope, the desire of ultimate good, which -animates our “pagan” citizens. For, if after two thousand years of -Christianity, some of them are still passionately asking to be taught -and guided, still praying for strength and courage to fight against -many natural besetting sins, and still seeking after such pure ideals -of work and attainment as can alone make life worth living, it is not -they, surely, who merit the term “pagan.” They should not be so much -blamed as compassionated, if, when searching for God’s fair and open -sunshine, they only stumble at the “fairy lamps,” and, angered thereby, -turn altogether away into the outer darkness. Such a term as “pagan” -can be applied with far more justice to their teachers and preachers, -who, having all the means of help and consolation at their disposal, -fail to perform their high duties with either power, conviction or -effect. It is quite easy to say “Pagan London,” but what if one spoke -of “pagan clergy”? What of certain ecclesiastics who do not believe -one word of the creed they profess, and who daily play the part of -Judas Iscariot over again in taking money for a new betrayal of Christ? -What of the ordained ministers of Christianity who are un-Christian -in every word and act of their daily lives? What of the surpliced -hypocrites who preach to others what they never even try to practise? -What of certain vicious and worldly clerical _bon-vivants_, who may -constantly be met with in the houses of wealthy and titled persons, -“clothed in fine linen and faring sumptuously every day,” talking -unsavoury society scandal with as much easy glibness as any dissolute -“lay” decadent that ever cozened another man’s wife away from the path -of honour in the tricky disguise of a “Soul”? What of the spiteful, -small-minded, quarrelsome “local” parsons, who, instead of fostering -kindness, neighbourliness, goodwill and unity among their parishioners, -set them all by the ears, and play the petty tyrant with a domineering -obstinacy which is rather worse than pagan, being purely barbarous? -Many cases could easily be quoted where the childish, not to say -querulous, pettiness of the ruling vicar of a country parish has helped -to narrow, coarsen, and deteriorate the spirit of a whole community, -spreading mean jealousies, fostering cheap rivalries, and making every -soul in the place, from Sunday school children up to poor workhouse -octogenarians, irritable, discontented and unhappy. And if the word -“pagan” be used at all, should it not be particularly and specially -applied to those theatrical dignitaries of the Church whose following -of the simple and beautiful doctrine of Christ consists in sheer -disobedience to His commands--disobedience openly displayed in the -ornate ritual and “vain repetitions” which Christ expressly forbade. -“For all their works they do to be seen of men; they make broad their -phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments.” And while -“enlarging the borders of their garments” they institute “processional” -services and promenades round the “fairy lamp” churches, with various -altar-bobbings and other foolish ceremonies, caring nothing for the -_Spirit_ of the faith, if only all forms and observances, imported -from Rome, or from still older “pagan” rites than the Roman, namely, -the Græco-Egyptian, may be in some way introduced into the simple and -unaffected form of prayer authorized by the Church of England. Disloyal -to both God and the King, the “pagan clergy” are doing more at this -present day to injure the cause of true religion among the masses than -is any lack of zeal or want of faith that may exist in the people -themselves. Who can blame sensible men and women for staying away from -church, when in nine cases out of ten they know that the officiating -minister is less Christian, less enlightened, less charitable and -kind-hearted than themselves? Canon Allen Edwards, in an admirable -letter addressed to the Press, put the case of “pagan London” very -clearly. He says: “We do not want new churches.” True. No more “fairy -lamps” are required for the general misleading of the straying sheep. -He adds: “We want new men.” - -This is the real need--men! Men of thought--men of heart,--men of -true conviction, ardent faith, passionate exaltation, and unceasing -devotion,--men who will not play about with “show” services, like -amateur actors in a charity performance,--but who will sincerely care -for and sympathize with their fellow-creatures, and will offer up the -prayer and praise of humanity to an all-wise Omnipotence with that deep -heartfelt fervour which is always expressed in the utmost simplicity -of form and language,--men who have the intelligence to understand -intelligent people, and who are as able to deal sympathetically -with the spiritual troubles and perplexities of an educated person -as with those of the ill-taught and frequently ill-fed rustic,--men -who, if they preach, can find something to say of the marvels of this -God-born creation of which we are a part--who will teach as well as -admonish,--and who will take reverent care not to set the Almighty -Creator within a small circle of their own special form of orthodoxy, -and condemn every creature that wanders outside that exclusive “fairy -lamp” enclosure. Canon Allen Edwards further remarked that “The reason -why the working classes do not go to church is the same reason why I -do not go to the Derby, not because I think it wrong, for I have no -opinion on the subject, but because I have no interest in the things -that go on there. And this is the reason, and no other, why many men -do not go to church. They are not interested in what is done there.... -A large number of those who are going into the ministry to-day are, -for one most essential part of their work, entirely without the first -elements of equipment. They cannot preach, and they are not helped to -try and learn, and yet preaching is that very part of their work for -which the people expect, and have a right to expect, equipment of the -highest order.” - -The Canon says: “they cannot preach.” That is true enough, but why? -I maintain that if they _felt_ their mission, they could preach it. -If they loved their fellow-creatures a thousand times better than -themselves, as they should do, they would find much of greatness, -beauty and truth to say! If they honoured and worshipped their Divine -Master as they profess to honour and worship Him, there would be little -lack of spirit or of eloquence! People always know when a speaker or a -preacher is _in earnest_. He may have a faulty utterance--his elocution -may be far from perfect, but if the _heart_ attunes the voice, the -voice carries. There are many hundreds of noble clergy--but they are -fewer than the ignoble of the same calling. And many there are, not -only ignoble in themselves, but who attempt to pervert their very -churches to illegitimate uses. I quote the following from a letter -addressed to me on one occasion by a notorious “minister” of the Gospel. - -“As the vicar of one of the largest parishes in England, I am often -put to it how best to attract to the church the careless and the -indifferent. Though a very strong High Anglican, I am an intense -believer in the Priesthood of the Laity. It is the one weak spot in -the Church’s system that she does not, as do the non-conformists, make -sufficient use of and properly appreciate the services of her lay -members. It has occurred to me therefore this year that by way of a -start in this direction I should ask the help of certain leading people -in the Literary, Dramatic and Artistic worlds. My friend, Mrs. X., -has already made a beginning by reciting two poems in my Church, and -thereby moving intensely a congregation of upwards of 3,000 people.” -Now Mrs. X. was, and is, a well-known actress, and she recited the -two poems in question _from the chancel steps at the conclusion of -the Sunday evening service_. I am told, (though for this I will not -vouch,) that money was taken at the church doors, and seats reserved -and paid for, precisely as if the sacred building had been suddenly -metamorphosed into a theatre or music hall. It never seemed to occur to -the reverend gentleman who is the proprietor of this once “consecrated” -building, that if he could not attract to his church “the careless -and indifferent,” the fault probably lay in himself and his general -unfitness. As a “very strong High Anglican” he would naturally have -leanings towards the theatre and its lime-light effects, and _certes_, -the “Priesthood of the Laity,” whatever may be meant by that term, is -more to be believed in than the Priesthood of this particular ordained -“priest” who instituted and encouraged a kind of stage recital from the -steps of a sacred chancel, where the actor or actress concerned was -invited to declaim his or her lines, with back turned to the Altar, the -Communion-table serving as the “scenery.” Such men as these are the -real “pagans,” and they do infinite harm to the dignity and purity of -the Christian doctrine by their unworthy and debasing example. Churches -under their dominance are less than “fairy lamps” in their influence -for good,--they are the mere flare of stage footlights, showing up the -grease-paint and powder of the clerical mime. - -A deep religious sentiment lies at the hearts of the British people, -as indeed of all peoples in the world. No nation, small or great, -was ever entirely given over to atheism. If atheism and indifference -affect a few, or even a majority of persons, the fault is assuredly -with those who are elected to teach “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” -They are chosen and solemnly ordained to be the friends, lovers and -guides of humanity,--not to be selfish pedants, quarrelsome quidnuncs, -and bigoted despots, exposing themselves, as they often do, to the -righteous scorn, as well as to the careless contempt of the more honest -laity. When they show themselves unworthy, the people fall away. When -even one minister of religion appears as co-respondent in a divorce -case, tens of thousands of men and women turn their backs on the -Church. When anything low, mean, despicable or treacherous is said or -done by a professing “servant of Christ,” the evil word or deed from -such a source makes Christianity a byword to many more than the merely -profane. When certain great dignitaries of the Church sit wine-bibbing -at “swagger” dinner-parties, relating questionable or “spicy” anecdotes -unfitting for the ears of decent women, they lose not only caste -themselves, but they lay all the brethren of their order open to -doubt. “Example is better than precept.” We have all written that in -our school copy-books,--and nothing has ever happened, or ever will -happen, that is likely to contradict the statement. If London is indeed -a “pagan” city, as Archdeacon Sinclair has solemnly declared from -under the shadowy luminance of his own big “fairy lamp,” St. Paul’s -Cathedral, then the clergy, and the clergy alone are responsible. On -their “ordained” heads be it! For “pagan” people are merely the natural -outcome of a “pagan” priesthood. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -A QUESTION OF FAITH - -PROPOUNDED TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN - - -Before fully entering on this paper, I should like those who may be -inclined to read it to understand very distinctly, once and for all, -that I am a Christian. I am sorry that the too-hasty misjudgment of -others compels me to assert the fact. The term “Atheist” has been -applied to me by several persons who should know better,--for it is an -absolutely false, and I may add, libellous accusation. That it has been -uttered unthinkingly and at random, by idle chatterers who have never -read a line I have written I can well believe,--nevertheless it is a -mischievous rumour, as senseless as wicked. Poor and inadequate as my -service is, and must ever be, still I am a follower of the Christian -Faith, as expounded in Christ’s own words to His disciples. I believe -that Christian Faith to be the grandest and purest in the world,--the -most hopeful, the most strengthening, the most soul-supporting and -ennobling religion ever taught to humanity. To me, in hours of the -bitterest trial, it has proved not “a reed shaken by the wind,”--but -a rock firmer than the foundations of the world, against which the -waves of tribulation break in vain and disperse to naught,--and when -brought face to face with imminent death as I have been, it has kept me -fearless and calm. I know--because I have experienced,--its priceless -worth, its truth, its grand uplifting power; and it is because this -simple Christian Faith is so dear to me, and so much a part of my -every-day life, that I venture to ask a few straight questions of -those who, calling themselves Christians, seem to have lost sight -altogether of their Master and His commands. I like people who are -consistent. Inconsistency of mind is like uncleanliness of body; it -breeds discomfort and disease. And in this wonderful age of ours, in -which there is so little real “greatness,”--when even the tried heroism -of our leading statesmen and generals is sullied by contemptible -jealousies and petty discussions of a quarrelsome nature,--when the -minds of men are bent chiefly on money-making and mechanical inventions -to save labour (labour being most unfortunately estimated as a curse -instead of the blessing it indubitably is), I find inconsistency the -chief ingredient of all modern thought. Things are jumbled up in a -heterogeneous mass, without order, distinction or merit. And the -principal subject on which men and women are most wildly, glaringly -inconsistent, is that which is supposed to be the guiding rule of -life--Religion. I should like to try and help to settle this vexed -question. I want to find out what the Christian Empire means by its -“faith.” I venture to lift up my voice as the voice of one alone in -the wilderness, and to send it with as clear a pitch and true a tone -as I can across the sea of discussion,--the stormy ocean of angry and -contradictory tongues,--and I ask bluntly and straightly, “What is it -all about? DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR RELIGION, OR DO YOU NOT?” - -It is an honest question, and demands an honest answer. Put it to -yourselves plainly. DO YOU BELIEVE WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND SOUL IN THE -FAITH YOU PROFESS TO FOLLOW? - -Again--put it with equal plainness--DO YOU NOT BELIEVE ONE IOTA OF IT -ALL? AND ARE YOU ONLY FOLLOWING IT AS A MATTER OF CUSTOM AND FORM? - -Let us, my reader or readers, be round and frank with each other. If -you are a Christian, your religion is to believe that Christ was a -human Incarnation or Manifestation of an Eternal God, born miraculously -of the Virgin Mary; that He was crucified in the flesh as a criminal, -died, was buried, rose again from the dead, and ascended to heaven as -God and Man in one, and there perpetually acts as Mediator between -mankind and Divine Justice. Remember, that if you believe this, you -believe in the PURELY SUPERNATURAL. But let any one talk or write of -the purely supernatural as existent in any other form save this one of -the Christian Faith, and you will probably be the first to scout the -idea of the supernatural altogether. Why? Where is your consistency? If -you believe in one thing which is supernatural, why not in others? - -Now let us consider the other side of the question. You who do -not believe, but still pretend to do so, for the sake of form and -conventional custom, do you realize what you are? You consider yourself -virtuous and respectable, no doubt; but facts are facts, and you, in -your pretence at faith, are nothing but a Liar. The honest sunshiny -face of day looks on you, and knows you for a hypocrite--a miserable -unit who is trying in a vague, mad fashion to cheat the Eternal Forces. -Be ashamed of lying, man or woman, whichever you be! Stand out of the -press and say openly that you do not believe; so at least shall you be -respected. Do not show any religious leanings either to one side or the -other “for the sake of custom”--and then we shall see you as you are, -and refrain from branding you “liar.” I would say to all, clergy and -laity, who do not in their hearts believe in the Christian Faith, “Go -out of all churches; stand aside and let us see who is who. Let us have -space in which to count up those who are willing to sacrifice all their -earthly well-being for Christ’s sake (for it amounts to nothing less -than this), and those who prefer this world to the next.” I will not -presume to calculate as to which will form the larger majority. I only -say it is absurd to keep up churches, and an enormous staff of clergy, -archbishops, bishops, popes, cardinals, and the like, for a faith in -which we do not TRULY, ABSOLUTELY, AND ENTIRELY BELIEVE. It is a mere -pageant of inflated Falsehood, and as such must be loathsome in the -sight of God,--this always with the modern proviso, “if there indeed be -a God.” Yet, apart from a God altogether, it is degrading to ourselves -to play the hypocrite with the serious facts of life and death. -Therefore, I ask you again--Do you believe, or do you not believe? My -object in proposing the question at all is to endeavour to show the -spiritual and symbolic basis upon which the Christian Faith rests, -and the paramount necessity there is for accepting it in its pristine -purity and beauty, if we would be wise. To grasp it thoroughly, we -must view it, not as it now seems to look to us through the darkening -shadows of sectarianism, BUT AS IT WAS ORIGINALLY FOUNDED. The time -has come upon us that is spoken of in the New Testament, when “one -shall be taken and the other left,” and the sorting of the sheep from -the goats has already commenced. It can be said with truth that most -of our Churches, as they now exist, are diametrically opposed to the -actual teachings of their Divine Founder. It can be proved that in our -daily lives we live exactly in the manner which Christ Himself would -have most sternly condemned. And when all the proofs are put before -you plainly, and without disguise or hyperbole, in the simplest and -straightest language possible, I shall again ask you, “DO YOU BELIEVE, -OR DO YOU NOT BELIEVE?” If you do believe, declare it openly and live -accordingly; if you do not believe, in God’s name leave off lying! - -The Symbolism of the Christian Faith has been, and is still, very much -lost sight of, owing to the manner in which the unimaginative and -unthinking majority of people will persist in looking at things from a -directly physical, materialistic and worldly point of view. But if we -take the life and character of Christ as a Symbolic representation of -that Perfect Manhood which alone can be pleasing to God,--which alone -can be worthy to call the Divine Source of Creation “Father!”--some of -our difficulties may possibly be removed. Christ’s Gospel was first -proclaimed in the East,--and the Eastern peoples were accustomed to -learn the great truths of religion by a “symbolic,” or allegorical -method of instruction. Christ Himself knew this,--for “He taught them -many things by parables.” - -We shall do well to keep this spirit of Eastern symbolism in mind when -considering the “miraculous” manner of Christ’s birth. Note the extreme -poverty, humility, well-nigh shame attending it! Joseph doubted Mary, -and was “minded to put her away privily.” Mary herself doubted the -Angelic Annunciation, and said, “How shall this be?” - -Thus, even with those most closely concerned, a cloud of complete -disbelief and distrust environed the very thought, suggestion, and -announcement of the God-in-Man. - -It should be remembered that the Evangelists, Mark and John, have no -account of a “miraculous” birth at all. John, supreme as a Symbolist, -the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” wrote, “The WORD was made flesh and -dwelt among us.” - -Securing this symbolic statement for ourselves, we find that two of the -chief things to which we attach importance in this world--namely, birth -and position--are altogether set aside in this humanizing of the WORD, -and are of no account whatever. And, that the helpless Child lying in -a manger on that first Christmas morning of the world, was,--despite -poverty and humility,--fore-destined to possess more power than all the -kings and emperors ever born in the purple. - -Thus, the first lessons we get from the birth of Christ are--Faith and -Humility--these are indeed the whole spirit of His Divine doctrine. - -Now,--How does this spirit pervade our social community to-day, after -nearly two thousand years of constant preaching and teaching? - -Look round on the proud array of the self-important, pugnacious, -quarrelsome, sectarian and intolerant so-called “servants of the Lord.” -The Pope of Rome, and his Cardinals and his Monsignori! The Archbishop -of Canterbury, and _his_ Bishops, Deacons, Deans and Chapters and the -like! The million “sects”--and all the cumbrous paraphernalia of the -wealthy and worldly, “ordained” to preach the Gospel! Ask them for -“proofs” of faith! For signs of “humility”! For evidences of any kind -to show that they are in very soul and life and truth, the followers of -that Master who never knew luxury, and had not where to lay His head! - -And you, among the laity, how can you pray, or pretend to pray to a -poor and despised “Man of Sorrows,” in these days, when with every act -and word of your life you show your neighbours that you love Money -better than anything else in earth or in heaven!--when even you who are -millionaires only give and do just as much as will bring you notoriety, -or purchase you a “handle” to your names! Why do you bend your -hypocritical heads on Sundays to the Name of “Jesus,” who (so far as -visible worldly position admitted) was merely the son of a carpenter, -and followed the carpenter’s trade, while on week-days you make no -secret of your scorn of, or indifference to the “working-man,” and more -often than not spurn the beggar from your gates! - -Be consistent, friends!--be consistent! IF YOU BELIEVE IN -CHRISTIANITY, you must also believe in these three things:-- - - - 1. The virtue of poverty. - - 2. The dignity of labour. - - 3. The excellence of simplicity. - - -Rank, wealth, and all kinds of ostentation should be to you -pitiable--not enviable. - -IS IT SO? Do you prefer poverty, with a pure conscience, to ill-gotten -riches? Would you rather be a faithful servant of Christ or a slave of -Mammon? Give the answer to your own soul,--but give it honestly--if you -can! - -If you find, on close self-examination, that you love yourself, your -own importance, your position, your money, your household goods and -clothes, your place in what you call “society,” more than the steady -working for and following of Christ,--YOU ARE NOT A CHRISTIAN. That -being the case, be brave about it! Say what you are, and do not pretend -to be what you are not! - -It ought to be quite easy for you to come to a clear understanding -with yourselves. Take down the New Testament and read it. Read it as -closely and carefully as you read your cheap newspapers, and with -as much eagerness to find out “news.” For news there is in it, and -of grave import. Not news affecting the things of this world, which -pass like a breath of wind and are no more,--but news which treats of -Eternal Facts, outlasting the creation and re-creation of countless -worlds. Read this book for yourselves, I say, rather than take it in -portions on Sundays only from your clergy,--and devote your earnest -attention to the simple precepts uttered by Christ Himself. If you -are a Christian, you believe Christ was an Incarnation of God,--then -does it not behove you to listen when God speaks? Or is it a matter -of indifference to you that the Maker and Upholder of millions of -universes should have condescended to come and teach you how to live? -If it is, then stand forth and let us see you! Do not attend places of -worship merely to be noticed by your neighbours. For,--apart from such -conduct being strictly forbidden by Christ,--you insult other persons -by your presence as a liar and hypocrite. This is what you may call a -“rude” statement;--plain-speaking and truth-telling are always called -“rude.” You will find the utmost plain-speaking in the Gospels upon -which you profess to pin your faith. If you have any “fancy Ritualism” -lurking about you, you will discover that “forms” are not tolerated by -the Saviour of mankind. - -“All their works they do for to be seen of men; they make broad their -phylacteries and enlarge the borders of their garments.” - -“Shows” of religion are severely censured and condemned by Him whose -commands we assume to try and obey--we can scarcely find even a peg -whereon to hang an excuse for our practice of praying in public, while -“vain repetitions” of prayer are expressly prohibited. I repeat--Read -the Four Gospels; they are very much mis-read in these days, and even -in the Churches are only gabbled. See if your private and personal -lives are in keeping with the commands there set down. If not, cease to -play Humbug with the Eternities;--they will avenge themselves upon your -hypocrisy in a way you dream not of! “Whosoever excuses himself accuses -himself.” - -The true Christian faith has no dogma,--no form,--no sect. It starts -with Christ as God-in-Man, in an all-embracing love for God and His -whole Creation, with an explicit and clear understanding (as symbolized -so emphatically in the Crucifixion and Resurrection), that each -individual Soul is an immortal germ of life, in process of eternal -development, to which each new “experience” of thought, whether on -this planet or others, adds larger powers, wider intelligence, and -intensified consciousness. There are no “isms” in this faith--no -bigotry, and no intolerance. It leaves no ground for discussion. - -“This is my commandment,--That ye love one another as I have loved you.” - -It is all there,--simple, straight and pure--no more, no less than this. - -“Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of trouble, attempts what -is above its strength, pleads no excuse of impossibility. It is, -therefore, able to undertake all things, and it completes many things -and warrants them to take effect where he who does not love would faint -and lie down. Love is watchful, and, sleeping, slumbereth not. Though -weary, it is not tired; though alarmed, it is not confounded, but, as a -lively flame and burning torch, it forces its way upwards, and securely -passes all.... Love is born of God and cannot rest but in God, above -all created things.” - -Is our Gospel of modern life and society to-day one of love or of hate? -Do we help each other more readily than we kick each other down? Do we -prefer to praise or to slander our neighbours? Is it not absolutely -true that “a cruel story runs on wheels, and every hand oils the wheels -as they run”? Can we leave anybody alone without covert or open -detraction from his or her merits? Even in the most ordinary, every-day -life do we not see people taking a malicious, insane delight in making -their next-door neighbours as uncomfortable as possible in every petty -way they can? These persons, by the way, are generally the class who go -to Church most regularly, and are constant Communicants. Do they not by -their profane attempt to assimilate the malignity of their dispositions -with the gospel of Christ, deserve to be considered as mere blasphemers -of the Faith? - -Yet, as a matter of fact, it is much easier to love than to hate. Love -is the natural and native air of the immortal soul. “While we fulfil -the law of love in all our thoughts and actions, we cannot fail to -grow.” Hatred, discontent, envy, and pessimism, cramp all the higher -faculties of the mind and very often actually breed disease in the -body. To love all creation is to draw the responsive health and life of -creation into one’s own immortal cognizance. “Love easily loosens all -our bonds. There is no discomfort that will not yield to its sovereign -power.” But it must not be a selfish love. It must be a Love which is -the keynote of the Christian Faith--“Love one another as I have loved -you.” - -It follows very plainly that if we truly loved one another there would -be no wars, no envyings, no racial hatreds, no over-reaching of our -brethren for either wealth, place or power. There would be no such -hells as the Lancashire factories, for example, where, as Allen Clarke -graphically tells us,[2] “Amidst that sickening jerry-jumble of cheap -bricks and cheaper British industry, over a hundred thousand men, -women and children, toil and exist, sweating in the vast, hot, stuffy -mills and sweltering forges--going, when young, to the smut-surrounded -schools to improve their minds, and trying to commune with the living -God in the dreary, dead, besmirched churches and grimy puritanical -chapels; growing up stunted, breeding thoughtlessly, dying prematurely, -knowing not, nor dreaming, except for here and there a solitary one -cursed with keen sight and sensitive soul, of aught better and brighter -than this sickening, steaming sphere of slime and sorrow.” Contrast -this picture with a crowded “supper-night” at the Carlton or any other -fashionable Feeding-place of London, and then maintain, if you dare, -that the men and women who are responsible for two such differing sides -of life are “Christians”! - -England is, we are told, in danger of becoming “Romanized.” Priests -and nuns of various “orders” who have been thrust out of France and -Spain for intermeddling, are seeking refuge here, in company with the -organ-grinders and other folk who have been found unnecessary in their -own countries. From Paris official news was cabled on September 11, -1902, as follows:-- - - - “JESUIT EXODUS FROM FRANCE. - - “PARIS, _Wednesday, September 11_. - - “It is announced officially that by the 1st of next month - not a single Jesuit will be left in France. Most of them - are emigrating to England, and will make Canterbury their - headquarters.--DALZIEL.” - - -France will not have the Jesuits; may it be asked why _we_ are to have -them? It is England’s proud privilege to be an international workhouse -for all the decrepit of the world, and for this cause a happy hunting -ground is open to Rome among these same decrepit. There is no creed in -the world which is better adapted for those who are morally weak, and -frightened of themselves. All the millionaires who have gotten their -goods by fraud, can, by leaving the greater part of these goods to -Rome, secure a reserved seat in Rome’s Heaven, with a special harp and -crown. All the women with “soul-affinities” other than lawful, can, -after a considerable wallow in social mire, enter the Church of Rome, -and, after confession, be “cleansed” sufficiently to begin again a new -life, approved of the saints. All the spiritualists and faith-healers -can find support for their theories with Rome,--and the Roman hell, -full of large snakes and much brimstone, is a satisfactory place -to consign one’s enemies to, when we have quite put aside Christ’s -command, “Love one another.” Altogether Romanism is calculated to -appeal to a very large majority of persons through the sensuous and -emotional beauty of its ritual;--it is a kind of heavenly narcotic -which persuades the believer to resign his own will into the hypnotic -management of the priests. The church is made gorgeous with soft lights -and colours,--glorious music resounds through the building, and the -mind drowses gently under the influence of the Latin chanting, which -we need not follow unless we like,--we are permitted to believe that -a large number of saints and angels are specially looking after us, -and that the sweet Virgin Mary is ever ready with outstretched hands -to listen to all our little griefs and vexations. It is a beautiful -and fascinating Creed, hallowed by long antiquity, graced by deeds -of romance and chivalry, sanctified by the memories of great martyrs -and pure saints, and even in these degenerate days, glorified by -the noble-hearted men and women who follow it without bigotry or -intolerance, doing good everywhere, tending the sick, comforting the -sorrowful, and gathering up the little children into their protecting -arms, even as Jesus Himself gathered them. It would need an angel’s pen -dipped in fire, to record the true history of a faithful, self-denying -priest of the Roman Church, who gives up his own advantage for the sake -of serving others,--who walks fearlessly into squalid dens reeking -with fever, and sets the pure Host between the infected lips of the -dying,--who combats with the Demon of Drink, and drags up the almost -lost reprobate out of that horrible chasm of vice and destruction. -No one could ever give sufficient honour to such a man for all the -immense amount of good he does, unostentatiously and without hope of -reward. But many men like himself exist equally in the English Church -as the Roman,--in the Presbyterian Church, in the Greek Church, in the -Buddhist temples, among the Quakers, “Plymouth Brethren,” and other -sects--among the followers of Mahomet or of Confucius. For there are -good men and good women in every Church, faithful to the SPIRIT OF -CHRIST, and, therefore, “Christians,” even if called Jews or Hindoos. - -Personally, I have no more objection or dislike to Romanism than I -have to any other “ism” ever formulated. From a student’s point of -view I admire the Roman Catholic priesthood, because they understand -their business, and thoroughly know the material with which they have -to deal. Wise as their Egyptian prototypes of old, they decline to -unveil “mysteries” to the uninitiated vulgar--therefore the laity are -not expected to read the Bible for themselves. Knowing the terrors -of a guilty conscience, they are able to intimidate the uneducated -ruffian of both sexes more successfully than all the majesty of the -law. Thoroughly aware of the popular delight in “shows,” they organize -public processions on feast days, just as the “Masters of the Stars” -used to do in Memphis, where, by the way (as those who take the -trouble to study ancient Egyptian records will discover), our latest -inventions, such as the electric light, the telephone, the phonograph, -and many other modern conveniences, were used by the priests for -“miraculous” effects. From the Egyptian priesthood we derive the -beginnings of scientific discovery;--to the early Roman Catholic -priesthood we owe the preservation of much history and learning. The -one is, intellectually speaking, a lineal descendant of the other, and -both deserve the utmost respect for their immense capacity as Rulers of -the Ignorant. - -The greater majority of persons have no force of will and no decided -opinions, but only an under-sense of coward fear or vexation at the -possible unsuccessful or damaging result of their own ill-doings. Hence -the power of the Roman Catholic dogma. It is not Christianity; it has -not the delicate subtlety of Greek mythology; it is simply pagan Rome -engrafted on the conversion and repentance of the Jew, Peter, who, in -the time of trial, “knew not the Man.” Curiously enough, it is just the -“Man,” the real typical Christ, the pure, strong God-in-humanity who -is still “not known” in the Roman Catholic ritual. There are prayers -to the “Sacred Heart” and to other physical attributes of Jesus,--just -as in old Rome there were prayers to the physical attributes of -the various deities, but of the perfect “Man,” as seen in Christ’s -dauntless love of truth and exposure of shams, His scourging of the -thieves out of the holy temple, His grand indifference to the world’s -malice and hatred, and His conquest over death and the grave,--of -these things we are given no clear or helpful image. Nevertheless, it -is the “Man” we most need,--the “Man” who came to us to teach us how -to live;--the brother, the friend, the close sympathizer,--the great -Creator of all life mingling Himself with His human creation in a -beautiful, tender, loving, wise and all-pitiful Spirit, wherein is no -hate, no revenge, and no intolerance! This is the Christ;--this is His -Christianity. Romanism, on the contrary, allows plenty of space for -those who want to hate as well as to love, and it is as helpful or as -useless as any of the thousand and one dogmas built up around Christ, -dogmas which include bad passions as well as divine aspirations. The -danger of such a creed gaining too much ground in England, the land -where our forefathers fought against it and trampled it out with -their own blood and tears, is not because it is a particular form of -religious Faith, but because it is an intolerant system of secret -Government. This has been proved over and over again throughout -history. Its leaders have not shown themselves as gentle pagans by any -means, either now or in the past;--and intolerance in any form, from -any sect, is no part of the Constitution of a free country. - -Hence the real cause of the objection which has been entertained by -millions of persons in the Empire to the suggested alteration of -the King’s Coronation oath. The British King is a Constitutional -monarch,--and the words “Defender of the Faith” imply that he is -equally Defender of the Constitution. He agrees, when he is crowned -King of England, to uphold that Constitution,--he therefore tacitly -rejects all that might tend to undermine it,--all secret methods of -tampering with political, governmental or financial matters relating -to the State. The wording of the Coronation Oath is, and must be -distinctly offensive to thousands of excellent persons who are Roman -Catholics,--nevertheless, in the times when it was so worded, the -offending terms were made necessary by the conduct of the Roman -Catholics themselves. Those times, we are assured, are past. We have -made progress in education,--we are now broad-minded enough to be -fair to foes, as well as to friends. We should, therefore, in common -courtesy to a rival Church, consent to have this irritating formula -altered. Perhaps we should,--but is it too much to ask our Roman -Catholic brethren that they also should, if they wish for tolerance, -exhibit it on their own side? When Queen Victoria died, was it not -quite as offensive on the part of Pope Leo to publicly state that he -“could not be represented at the funeral of a Protestant Queen”--as it -may be for our King to publicly repudiate the service of the Mass? -Nothing could have been more calculated to gratuitously wound the -feelings of a great People than that most unnecessary announcement -made from an historical religious centre like the Vatican, at a time -of universal grief for the death of a good Monarch. If the Pope’s act -was according to the rule of his Church, the King’s oath is according -to the rule of the British Constitution. No one could accuse the Pope -of any particularly “Christian” feeling in declining to be represented -at the last obsequies of the best Queen that ever reigned--no one can -or would ever conscientiously accuse an English King of “religious -intolerance” when he takes the oath as it is set down for him. Both -acts are matters of policy. We have seen the foremost peer of England, -the Duke of Norfolk, forgetting himself so far on one occasion as -to drag his religious creed into the political arena, and publicly -expressing the hope on behalf of all English Catholics that the Pope -may soon regain temporal power (which means, to put it quite plainly, -that the British Constitution should be disintegrated and laid under -subjection to Rome): the natural consequence of such conduct is that -an enormous majority of perfectly sensible broad-minded people doubt -whether it is wise to leave an entirely loose rein on the neck of -the papal Pegasus. Tolerance and equity on the one side must be met -by tolerance and equity on the other, if a fair understanding is to -be arrived at. And when the professors of any religious Creed still -persecute heroism and intellect, or refuse reverence to the last -rite of a noble Queen, whose long reign was a blessing to the whole -world, one may be permitted to question their fitness for the task -of elevating and refining the minds and morals of those whom their -teachings help to influence. And having, as a man of intellectual -and keen perception, the full consciousness that such unuttered -“questioning” was burning the hearts and minds of thousands, the late -Cardinal Vaughan showed himself a master of the art of Roman Catholic -diplomacy in his speech at Newcastle-on-Tyne on September 9, 1902. -Speaking of the inrush of Roman Catholic priests into England, he -said:-- - -“A statement from a London paper has been running through the -provincial Press to the effect that I have deliberately outraged -public feeling by inviting to England certain French religieux, some -of those _confrères_ who have made themselves particularly obnoxious -by their constant attacks upon this country. The fact is that, upon -the passing of the iniquitous law against the religious congregations, -I gave a general invitation to any religieux who might wish, to come -to my diocese until they could return to France. Among those who -applied were three or four fathers, some of those _confrères_ who do -not love England. My invitation being general, I was not, and am not -going to make distinctions. None will come who do not intend to obey -the laws and follow my direction. And if there be any who have not -been sufficiently enlightened to appreciate this country while living -in France, they are the very people who had best come and make our -acquaintance. This is the surest way to change their views. But while -England boasts of her generous hospitality to every kind of refugee, I -shall certainly offer whatever hospitality I can to the men and women -who have suffered for Christ’s sake. _I am too broad an Englishman to -know any other policy._” - -“Broad Englishman” as the Cardinal professed to be, he had no pity on -the aged Dr. St. George Mivart, the circumstances of whose treatment -are not yet forgotten. - -Speaking of the Coronation oath, the Cardinal said: “I entirely and -frankly accept the decision of the country that the King must be a -Protestant. They believe that this is in some way bound up with the -welfare of the Empire. WITHOUT GOING THIS LENGTH, I am convinced that -in the present condition of the English people, HAUNTED AS THEY ARE -BY FEARS AND SUSPICIONS, it is expedient that the King should be of -the religion of the overwhelming majority. Besides, the King being, in -virtue of Royal supremacy, head of the State Church, it is impossible -that he should be other than a Protestant. Catholics have no difficulty -in paying most loyal allegiance to a Protestant Sovereign. In this -they seem to be of more liberal and confiding temper than those who -would refuse allegiance to a King unless he professed their creed. The -Catholic has no difficulty, because he gives his allegiance and his -life, when needed, primarily to the civil power ordained of God.” - -(The Cardinal did not pause here to try and explain why God has thus -“ordained” a Protestant sovereign instead of a Roman Catholic one! Yet -no doubt he will admit that God knows best.) - -“The Sovereign REPRESENTS THIS POWER, whatever be his religion. Was -it not Catholic Belgium that placed the Protestant King Leopold upon -the Throne, and gave to him at least as hearty a devotion as ever has -been shown to his Catholic successor? Other Catholic States are ruled -by Protestant Sovereigns. And who can say that the 16,000,000 of German -Catholics are a whit less loyal to their German Protestant Emperor -than the millions who are of the Protestant or of no religion? There -are people, I believe, pursued by the conviction that we Catholics -would do anything in the world to get a Catholic King upon the Throne; -that the Pope would give us leave to tell lies, commit perjury, plot, -scheme, and kill to any extent for such a purpose; that there is no -crime we should stick at if the certainty, or even the probability -of accomplishing such an end were in view. Now let me put it to our -Protestant friends in this way. If the King of England were an absolute -Monarch, the dictator of the laws to be enacted, and his own executive, -there might be something of vital importance to our interests and -to those of religion to excite in us an intense desire to have a -Catholic King. Though even then the end could never, even remotely, -justify the means suggested. But how do matters really stand? We have -a Constitutional Monarch who is subject to the laws, and in practice -bound to follow the advice of his Ministers. A Catholic King, under -present circumstances, would be a cause of weakness, of perpetual -difficulty, and of untold anxiety. We are far better off as we are. Our -dangers and grievances, our hopes and our happiness, LIE IN THE WORKING -OF THE CONSTITUTION, not in the favour or power of any Sovereign. IT -IS THE PARLIAMENT, THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, THAT WE MUST CONVERT, or at -least strive to retain within the influence of Christianity. For the -well-being of this country and the salvation of its people depend, -above all other human things, UPON THE VIEW THAT THE HOUSE OF COMMONS -CAN BE GOT TO TAKE OF ITS DUTY--to respect and obey the law of Christ. -What we want is to get the House of Commons to maintain the Christian -laws of marriage as the basis of society, and to secure to parents and -their children a true and proper liberty in the matter of Christian -education. And in this, remember well, THAT THE HOUSE OF COMMONS -DEPENDS NOT UPON THE KING, WHATEVER HIS RELIGION, BUT UPON OURSELVES. -The people of this country must work out their own salvation. And -here let me point out to you, in passing, that the next Session of -Parliament may settle for ever the position of Christianity in this -country. Secondary and middle-class education will be thrown into the -melting-pot. In the process of the devolution of educational authority -upon county councils, Christianity will run the risk of losing rights -which it seems to have almost secured under the working of the -Education Department. The adoption of a single clause or principle -will have far-reaching and most vital results. There will be another -educational struggle. Struggles will be inevitable until the Christian -cause which is becoming more and more openly the cause of the majority -has permanently triumphed.” - -Here we have four distinct “moves” on the plan of campaign. - - - 1. “It is the Parliament, the House of Commons, that we must - convert.” - - -This means, that wherever influence can be brought to bear on the -return of Roman Catholic members to the House, that influence will not -be lacking. - - - 2. “The next Session of Parliament may settle for ever the - position of Christianity in this country.” - - -Not CHRISTIANITY, for that is above all “settling,”--save with its -Founder--but that the next or other Sessions may open the way to a more -complete Roman Catholic domination is what is here hoped for. - - - 3. “The adoption of a _single clause_ or principle will have - far-reaching and most vital results.” - - -Precisely;--so far-reaching and vital that England must be on her guard -against even a “single clause or principle” which endangers the liberty -of the subject. - - - 4. “Struggles will be inevitable until the Christian cause which - is becoming more and more openly the cause of the majority has - permanently triumphed.” - - -For Cardinal Vaughan there was only one “Christian” cause--viz., the -Roman Catholic, and he who runs may read the meaning of the above -phrase without much difficulty. - -Concerning the King’s Declaration Oath, said the Cardinal:-- - -“It is not the King who is responsible for the drafting or the -retention of this detestable Declaration. It is the Ministry, the -Legislature, the Constitution that are responsible for its retention, -and for forcing its acceptance upon the Sovereign. The gravamen, -therefore, lies against the State, not against the person of the King.” - -Quite true; and it is therefore against the State that the Vatican -powers must, and possibly may, in time, be directed. - -“And,” went on the Cardinal, “do not devout clergymen swear every day -in good faith to teach the Thirty-nine Articles, and find every day -that conscience and good faith compel them to break their engagement by -submitting to the Catholic Church? When a man fully realizes that by a -promise or an oath he has pledged himself to something that is unjust, -immoral, untrue, the engagement ceases to bind.” - -_Ergo_, the English Church, the particular “Faith” which our King -undertakes to DEFEND, is “unjust, immoral and untrue.” - -And, “Could Englishmen see themselves as others see them, they would be -more chary than they are of provoking hatred by such wanton contempt -for the feelings of other nations.” - -Well, Englishmen have every chance of seeing themselves as others see -them, when they have to chronicle a “Christian” Cardinal’s indictment -accusing them of “wanton contempt for the feelings of other nations.” -To whom do other nations turn in want or distress but England? From -whom do the famine and fever-stricken in all corners of the world -obtain relief? England! Where is there any Roman Catholic country that -has poured out such limitless charity and pity to all in sorrow as -England? And why should the “conversion of England” be so valuable to -the Roman Church? Merely because of England’s incalculable wealth and -power! - -Again, concerning the Declaration Oath, the Cardinal continued:--“Now, -should it ever happen that the King became convinced, by God’s grace, -of the truth of the doctrines that he abjured, of what value would be -the Declaration? Absolutely none!” - -Of course not!--he would simply cease to be King, and would enjoy the -complete liberty of the subject. - -“By all means,” went on his Eminence, warming with his theme, “let the -majority, if it please, stand by the law, which exists apart from the -Declaration, declaring that to reign over England the Sovereign must be -a Protestant. Retain this law and enforce it; but respect our creed, at -least just so far as to ignore it, and to leave us alone. This, surely, -is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of modern toleration.” - -Then why did not the Cardinal and all his followers “respect the -creed” established in this country,--the religion of the State,--“just -so far as to ignore it,” and to leave those who honour it “alone”? -“This, surely, is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of -modern toleration.” It was not the Church of England which started -any discussion on the Coronation Oath at the time of King Edward the -Seventh’s crowning,--the quarrel emanated entirely from the Roman -Catholic side. And the Cardinal’s speech was intended to be more -aggressive than pacifying. - -“But if,” he continued, “after all, there must be a Declaration _as -a sop to certain fears and passions_, let there be one to the effect -that the King is a Protestant--and stop there. Should, however, a -denunciation of the Catholic religion be added to a profession of -Protestantism, the whole world will understand it; it will understand -it as a pitiable _confession of English fear and weakness_. And as to -ourselves; well, we shall take it as a complimentary acknowledgment -by our Protestant fellow-countrymen of the importance and power of -faith--that it can not only remove mountains, but is capable of _moving -even the fabric of the British Empire itself_. But I should like to -conclude in another strain, and add to these observations a resolution -to this effect:-- - -“That the Sovereign of this Empire ought to be raised high above the -strife of all political and religious controversies, the more easily to -draw to himself and to retain the unabated loyalty of all creeds and -races within his Empire.” - -With the latter part of the Cardinal’s harangue every one of every -creed and class will agree, but “a pitiable confession of English fear -and weakness” is a phrase that should never have been uttered by an -Englishman, whether “broad” or narrow, cardinal or layman. “English -fear and weakness” has never yet been known in the world’s history. -And as for “moving the fabric of the British Empire,” that can only -be done through the possible incompetence or demoralization of its -own statesmen,--by shiftiness, treachery and corruption in State -affairs--and even at this utmost worst, though England might be bent, -she would never be broken. - -All this, however, has nothing to do with the Christian faith as Christ -Himself expounded it in His own commands. Quarrels and dissensions are -as far from the teaching of the Divine Master as an earth’s dusthole -is from the centre of the sun. Differences of dogma are not approved -in His eyes. Whether candles shall, or shall not, be set on the altar, -whether incense shall, or shall not, be burnt, may be said to relegate -to the “cleansing of the outside of the cup and platter,” and are not -a vital part of His intention--for He has nothing but condemnation -for “forms” and “ceremonies.” There is something both strange and -unnatural in the provocative spirit which is at present being exercised -by professing rulers of the Church of England against one another; -and another matter too for deep regret is the attitude of favour -maintained by certain political ministers, towards the practice of an -almost theatrical display in the form of English Christian services. -The various appointments of High Churchmen to important bishoprics -shows the tendency towards extravagant ritualism; certainly the more -simple and unaffected men of pure taste and dignity in Church ritual -get little chance of encouragement; and that the path is being prepared -for a second Cromwell is only too evident. It is lamentable indeed that -any discussions should arise between the different sects as to “forms -and ceremonies,” and those who excite fanatical hatreds by their petty -quarrels over unimportant “shows” and observances, are criminally to -blame for any evils that are likely to ensue. What Christ commands is -“Love one another”;--what He desires is that all mankind should be -friends and brothers in His Name. And it is from this point of view -that I again ask the question of those who may have glanced through -this paper--DO YOU BELIEVE, OR DO YOU NOT BELIEVE? Are you a CHRISTIAN? -Or a SECTARIAN? The one is not the other. - -For my own part I would desire to see all the Sects cease their long -quarrel,--all “dogmas” dropped--and all creeds amalgamated into one -great loving family under the name of Christ. I should like to see -an end to all bigotry, whether of Protestantism against Romanism, or -Romanism against Protestantism,--a conclusion to all differences--and -one Universal Church of simple Love and Thanksgiving, and obedience -to Christ’s own commands. “Temporal power” should be held as the poor -thing which it is, compared to Spiritual power,--for Spiritual power, -according to the Founder of the Christian Faith, is the transcendent -force of Love--love to God and love to man,--“that perfect love which -casteth out fear,” and which, being “born of God, cannot rest but in -God above all created things.” - -Thus it follows--That if we hate or envy or slander any person, WE ARE -NOT CHRISTIANS. - -If we prefer outward forms of religious ceremonial to the every-day -practice of a life lived as closely as possible in accordance with the -commands laid down for us in the Gospel, WE ARE NOT CHRISTIANS. - -If we love ourselves more than our neighbours, WE ARE NOT CHRISTIANS. - -If we care for money, position, and the ostentation attending these -things, more than truth, simplicity and plain dealing, WE ARE NOT -CHRISTIANS. - -These ordinary tests of our daily conduct are quite enough to enable -us to decide whether we are or are not of the faith. If we are _not_, -we should cease to “sham” that we _are_. It will be far better for -all those with whom we are brought in contact. For, thank God, there -exist thousands of very real “Christians”--(“by their fruits ye shall -know them”), doing unostentatious good everywhere, rescuing the lost, -aiding the poor, comforting the sick, and helping the world to grow -happier and better. They may be _called_ Jews, or Baptists, Papists, -or Buddhists,--but I hold them all as “Christians” if they perform -those good deeds and live those good lives which are acceptable to -Christ,--while many church-going hypocrites called “Christians” whose -social existence is a scandal, whose dissipations, gross immoralities -and pernicious example of living are open dangers to the whole -community, do not deserve even such a complimentary term as “pagan” -applied to them. For the pagans--aye, the earliest savages, believed -in Something higher than themselves,--but these sort of people believe -in nothing but the necessity of getting what they want at all costs, -and are mere human cancers of evil, breeding infection and pestilence. -And it is particularly incumbent on the clergy of all denominations -at the present juncture to sift Themselves as to their calling and -election while sifting others,--to ask Themselves whether they may -not be in a great measure to blame for much of the infamy which reeks -from our great cities--for much of the apathy and indifference to -that bitter poverty, that neglected suffering which often gives birth -to Anarchy,--for much of the open atheism which shames the upper -classes of society. Let them live such lives as may liberate them -from all fear or hesitation in speaking out boldly to the souls they -have in charge--let them “preach the Gospel” as they were commanded, -rather than expound human dogmas. Sympathy, tenderness, patience, love -for all living creatures, rejection of everything that is mean and -cruel, false and cowardly,--a broad mind, open to all the beautiful -and gracious influences of Nature--a spirit uplifted in thanksgiving -to the loving God of all worlds, who is brought close to us and made -the friend of man in the Divine Personality of Christ,--this surely -is CHRISTIANITY,--a Faith which leaves no corner anywhere for the -admission of hate, dissension or despair. Such is the Faith the Master -taught, saying: - -[3]“I have not spoken of myself, but of the Father which sent me; He -gave me a commandment what I should say, and what I should speak. - -“And I know that His commandment is life everlasting--whatsoever I -speak, therefore, even as the Father taught me, so I speak.” - -So He speaks--but do we listen? And if we listen,--and believe,--why do -we not obey? - -FOOTNOTES: - -[2] “Effects of the Factory System.”--Allen Clarke. - -[3] John xii. 49. - - - - -UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS - - -It is generally supposed that an ordained minister of the Gospel is a -Christian. Whatever the faults, negligences and shortcomings of other -people in other conditions of life, it is tacitly expected that the -professing disciples of Christ, the priests, teachers and exponents of -holy and spiritual things, should be more or less holy and spiritual -in themselves. They are at any rate accredited with honest effort to -practise, as well as to preach, the divine ethics of their Divine -Master. Their position in the social community is one which, through -old-time tradition, historical sentiment, and inborn national piety, is -bound to command a certain respect from the laity. Any public disgrace -befalling a clergyman is always accompanied by a strong public sense of -shame, disappointment and regret. And when we meet (as most unhappily -we often do), with men in “holy orders” who,--instead of furnishing -the noble and pure examples of life and character which we have a -distinct right to look for in them,--degrade themselves and their high -profession by conduct unworthy of the lowest untutored barbarian, we -are moved by amazement as well as sorrow to think that such wolves in -sheep’s clothing should dare to masquerade as the sacredly ordained -helpers and instructors of the struggling human soul. - -During the past few years there have been many examples of men -belonging to the hierarchy of the Church, who have wantonly and -knowingly outraged every canon of honour and virtue, and their sins -appear all the blacker because of the whiteness of the faith they -profess to serve. A criminal is twice a criminal when he adds hypocrisy -to his crime. The clergyman of a parish, who has all doors thrown open -to him,--who invites and receives the trust of his parishioners,--who -is set among them to guide, help and comfort them in the devious -and difficult ways of life, is a thousand times more to blame than -any other man in a less responsible position, when he knowingly and -deliberately consents to sin. Unless he is able to govern his own -passions, and eschew every base, mean and petty motive of action, -he is not fit to influence his fellow men, nor should he presume to -instruct them in matters which he makes it evident he does not himself -understand. - -Quite recently a case was chronicled in the daily press of a clergyman -who went to visit a dying woman at her own request. She wished to make -a last confession to him, and so unburden her soul of its secret misery -before she passed away, trusting in God’s mercy for pardon and peace. -The clergyman went accordingly, and heard what she had to say. When the -unhappy creature was dead, however, he refused her poor body the sacred -rites of burial! Now it surely may be asked what authority had he or -any man calling himself a Christian minister to refuse the rites of -burial even to the worst of sinners? Whatever the woman’s faults might -have been, vengeance wreaked on a corpse is both futile and barbarous. -There is nothing in Christ’s pure and noble teaching that can endorse -so unholy a spirit of intolerance,--one too, which is calculated to -give the bitterest pain to the living friends and relations of the so -coarsely-insulted dead, and to breed in them a relentless hostility -to the Church and its representatives. For the poorest erring human -creature that ever turned over the pages of the New Testament, knows -that such conduct is not Christ-like, inasmuch as Christ had nothing -but the tenderest pity, pardon and peace for the worst sinner at the -last moment. When death steps in to close all accounts, it behoves man -to be more than merciful to his brother man. “For if ye forgive not men -their trespasses neither will your Father forgive you your trespasses.” - -Still fresh in the minds of many must be the un-Christian conduct of -the late Cardinal Vaughan in denying the rites of Christian burial -to the venerable Dr. St. George Mivart. Dr. St. George Mivart was a -man of science whose theories did not agree with the tenets of the -Roman Catholic Church, and as he belonged ostensibly to that form of -faith, one may call him, if one so chooses, a bad Catholic. But when -it is remembered that within quite recent days, so-called “Christian” -priests in Servia have given their solemn benediction to the assassins -of the late King and Queen of that country, it is somewhat difficult -to understand or appreciate the kind of “religion” that blesses -murderers and regicides, yet refuses burial to a modern scientist who, -as far as his intellectual powers allowed him, was working for the -good and the wider instruction of the human race. At the time of the -“inhibition” and subsequent death of Dr. Mivart, I ventured to address -an “Open Letter” to Cardinal Vaughan on the subject. This Letter was -published in March 1900, and though no doubt the great “Prince of the -Church” never deigned to read it, a large majority of the public did, -and I have had much cause to rejoice that in the timorously silent -acquiescence of the Christian world in a deed which shames the very -name of Christ, I, at least, as one of the humblest among the followers -of the Christian faith, did have sufficient courage to speak out openly -against the wicked intolerance which made the Church itself seem mere -“sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal,” because lacking in that holy -charity “which suffereth long and is kind.” It was a barbarous act -to “inhibit” Dr. Mivart,--it was still more barbarous to refuse his -body the sacred burial-rites,--and though the great Cardinal has now -followed his victim to that world where all the secrets of the soul are -made manifest, his cruelty remains as a blot on his mortal career,--a -black smirch, ugly to look upon in the chronicle of his various virtues -and excellencies. No ordained minister of the Gospel has the right -to be intolerant. He has not the slightest excuse for arrogating to -himself any other code of ethics or conduct than that which is set out -plainly for him in the New Testament. Away from that he should not dare -to go, if he truly believes what he elects to preach,--and if he does -not believe, he should at once resign his office and not live on the -proceeds of what in his own private conscience he considers untrue. - -Most of us have met with many a mean little curate,--many a sly, -spiteful, scandal-mongering hypocritical parson,--in the daily -round of our common lives and duties. Most of us know the “salad” -cleric,--the gentleman who is a doubtful compound of oil and vinegar, -with a good deal of tough green vegetable matter growing where -the brain should be,--coarse weed of bigotry, prejudice, and rank -obstinacy. None of us are entirely ignorant of the sedately amorous -parson who is either looking out for a wife on his own account, or -attempting a “Christianly” conversion of the wife of somebody else. In -country towns we can scarcely fail to have come across the domineering -vicar,--the small and petty tyrant, who whips the souls committed to -his charge with rods steeped in his own particular pickle of arrogance, -austerity and coercion, playing the part of a little despot over -terrorized Sunday-school children, and laying down the law for his -parishioners by way of a “new dispensation” wherein the Gospel has no -part. One such petty martinet, well known in a certain rural parish, -plays regular “ogre” to his choir boys. It is always a case of “Fee, -fi, fa, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a chorister,” with him. Should -one of these unfortunate minstrels chance to sneeze during service, -this vicar straightway imposes a penny fine (sometimes more) on the -unlucky little wretch for yielding to an irresistible nasal impulse! -This kind of thing is, of course, ridiculous, and would merit nothing -but laughter, were it not for the dislike, distrust and contempt -engendered in the minds of the boys by the display of such a peevish -spirit of trumpery oppression on the part of a man who is placed in -the position he holds to be an example of kindness, good temper, -cheerfulness and amiability to all. True, the vicar in question is -what may be called “liverish,” and a small boy’s sneeze may seem, to -a mind perverted by bilious bodily secretions, like the collapse of a -universe. But there are various ways of conquering even one’s physical -ills,--at least to the extent of sparing poor children the infliction -of fines because they have noses which occasionally give them trouble. - -The begging cleric is of all sacerdotal figures the one most familiar -to the general community. One can seldom attend a church without -hearing the mendicant’s plea. If the collection taken were indeed for -the poor, and one felt that it was really and truly going to help -feed the starving and nourish the sick, how gladly most of us would -contribute, to the very best of our ability! But sad experience teaches -us that this is not so. There are “Funds” of other mettle than for -the sick and poor,--“restoration” funds especially. For many years a -famous church was in debt owing to “restorations,” and Sunday after -Sunday the vicar implored his congregation to lift “the burden” off its -time-honoured walls--in vain! At last one parishioner paid the amount -required in full. The vicar acknowledged the cheque,--put a recording -line in the “Parish Magazine,”--wrote a formal letter of thanks -regretting that the donor did not “show a good example by attending -public worship on Sundays,”--after which, _for more than a year he did -not speak to that parishioner again_! This is a fact. Neither he nor -his wife during that time ever showed the slightest common civility -to the one individual who, out of all the parish, had “lifted the -burden,” concerning which so many pious exordiums had been preached. -_Till_ the debt was paid, the vicar showed every friendliness to the -person in question--but afterwards--well!--one can only suppose it -was a case of “Othello’s occupation gone!” He could beg no more,--not -for that particular object. But I understand he has started fresh -“restorations” lately, so till he finds another trusting sheep in the -way of a too sympathetic parishioner, he will be quite happy. - -There are some clerics who, to their sacred duties add “a little -literary work.” They are not literary men,--indeed very frequently -they have no idea whatever of literature--they are what may be called -“literary jobbers.” Many clergymen have been, and are still, greatly -distinguished in the literary calling--but I am not alluding to -past or future Kingsleys. The men I mean are those who “do a bit of -writing”--and help in compiling books of reference to which few ever -refer. They are apt to be the most pertinacious beggars of their -class,--beggars, not for others’ needs, but for their own. They want -introductions to “useful” people--people of “influence”--and they ask -for letters to publishers, which they sometimes get. The publishers -are not grateful. They are over-run, they say, with clergymen who want -to write guide-books, books of travel, books of reference, books of -reminiscence. One of these “reverend” individuals, pleading stress of -poverty, was employed by a lady to do some copying work, for which, -in a well-meant wish to satisfy the immediate needs of his wife and -children, she paid him in advance the sum of Fifty Pounds. He sent her -a signed receipt for the money with the following gushing epistle: - - - “DEAR ----, - - Could I write as you do, I might find words to express in part - some of my feelings of gratitude to you for all your kindness. - My little daughter owes to you untold happiness, and I believe - the goodness you ever show her will brighten her whole future - life. My dear wife you help to bear her many burdens of health - and loneliness as no other has ever attempted to do; and my - very mediocre self owes to you, a recognition, after many long - struggles, I will not say of merit, for no one knows better than - myself, my own shortcomings, but of ‘effort.’ In fact, you come to - us as Amenhotep sung of the sun:-- - - - Thou art very beautiful, brilliant and exalted above earth, - Thy beams encompass all lands, which thou hast made. - Thou art our sun. - Thou bindest us with thy love. - Thou art on high, but the day passes with thy going! - - - Even so, your kindly heart has shone upon our life, and made us - feel the springs of life within us. May the Great Master of all - things for ever bless you and yours!” - - -After this poetical effusion,[4] it is difficult to believe that -this same “Christian” minister, in order to gratify the private -jealousy, spite and malice of a few common persons whom he fancied -might be useful to him on account of their “local” influence, wrote -and published a scurrilous lampoon on the very friend who had tried -to benefit him and his wife and family, and to whom he had expressed -himself in the above terms of unmeasured gratitude! But such, -nevertheless, was the case. Report says that he was handsomely paid -for his trouble, which may perhaps serve as his excuse,--for in many -cases, as we know, money outweighs principle, even with a disciple of -Christ. It did so in the case of Judas Iscariot, who, however, “went -out and hanged himself” promptly. Perhaps the “very mediocre” cleric -who owed to the woman he afterwards insulted, “a recognition after many -long struggles,” will do the same morally and socially in due course. -For it would be as great a wrong to the Church to call such a man a -“Christian” as it would be to canonize Judas. Even the untutored savage -will not injure one with whom he has broken bread. And to bite the hand -that has supplied a need, is scarcely the act of a mongrel cur,--let us -hope it is a sufficiently rare performance among mongrel clerics. - -Among other such “trifling” instances of the _un_-Christianity of -Christian ministers may be quoted a recent instance of a letter -addressed to a country newspaper by a clergyman who complained of -the small fees allowed him for the burial of paupers! “The game,” so -he expressed it, “was not worth the candle.” Christian charity was -no part of the business. Unless one can make a margin of profit, by -committing paupers to the hope of a joyful resurrection, why do it -at all? Such appeared to be the sum and substance of the reverend -gentleman’s argument. Another case in point is the following: A poor -man of seventy-five years old, getting the impression that Death was -too long in coming to fetch him, committed suicide by hanging himself -in a coal-shed. His widow, nearly as aged as he was, went tottering -feebly along to the clergyman of the parish, to relate the disaster and -seek for help. The first thing the good minister told her was, that -her husband, by committing suicide, had gone to hell. He then relaxed -his sternness somewhat, and kindly said that, considering her age, -infirmity and trouble, she “might call at the rectory every afternoon -for the tea-leaves.” This gracious invitation meant that the bereaved -old creature could have, for her consolation, the refuse of the -afternoon tea-pot after it had been well drained by this “Christian” -gentleman, his wife and family! Of other help she got none, and life -having become too hard for her to manage alone, despite the assistance -of the clergyman’s tea-leaves, she very soon, fortunately for herself, -died of grief and starvation. “He that giveth to the poor” in this -fashion, truly “lendeth to the Lord.” - -“Christianity” and “Christian” are beautiful words, emblematic of -beautiful thoughts and beautiful deeds. The men who profess to teach -the value of those thoughts, the influence of those deeds, should -be capable in themselves of practically illustrating what they mean -by their faith, in their own lives and actions. Inspired by the -purest Creed that was ever taught to mankind for its better hope and -enlightenment, they should express in their attitude to the world, a -confident and constant joy and belief in God’s goodness, and should -remember that if He, their divine Master “so loved us,” equally should -they, His ordained ministers, love us, ay, even the worst of us, in -their turn. When, on the contrary, they do things for which the poorest -peasant or dockyard labourer would have the right, and the honest -right too, to despise them,--when they commit base actions for money -or advancement,--when they are harsh, unyielding, discourteous and -obstinate to the degree of even declining to aid a good cause or assist -in some benefit to the nation at large, merely because _they_ have not -been consulted as to ways and methods, they do not deserve to be called -“Christian” at all. They are of that class, unhappily increasing in -number, who cry out: “Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name?” -to whom will be given the answer: “I never knew you; depart from Me, -ye that work iniquity!” Great and noble beyond all praise are true -“Christian” ministers,--and thousands of them are to be found in all -parts of the world, working silently and bravely for the rescue of -bodies as well as souls, giving practical as well as spiritual help and -sympathy to their fellow-men in trouble. But just because their labours -are so valuable, one resents all the more deeply the conduct of certain -members of the clergy who cast dishonour upon their whole calling,--and -just because the vocation of “priest” is so high, we intensely deplore -every action that tends to debase it. The un-Christian cleric belongs -to no spiritual form of faith whatsoever, and should not be allowed -to pretend that he does. He has but one religion,--Self. And from the -professor of Self, no man need ask either help or instruction. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[4] As some doubt has been expressed as to whether this incident is a -true one, the author wishes it to be known that she holds the original -letter written and signed by the reverend lampooner in question. - - - - -THE SOCIAL BLIGHT - - -People who live in the country know what is meant by a “blight”--a -thing which is neither mist nor storm, neither cloud nor rain,--a -fever of the atmosphere, without any freshening or cleansing force -in its composition. Like a dull stretch of smoky fog, it hangs for -hours and often for days over the face of the landscape, poisoning -the wholesome fruit and grain in the orchards and fields, and leaving -trails of noxious insect pests behind it upon trees and flowers, -withering their foliage, and blackening all buds of promise with a -destroying canker to their very core. It is a suffocating, malodorous -miasma, clinging to the air, for which there is no remedy but a -strong, ay, even a tempestuous wind,--a wind which vigorously pierces -through the humid vapour and disperses it, tearing it to shreds, and -finally working up such a storm as shall drown it out of existence in -torrents of purifying rain. Then all nature is relieved,--the air is -cleared,--health and gladness re-assert their beneficent influences, -and the land lies open to renewed life and easy breathing once more. - -Even as “blight” is known in things natural, so is it known and easily -recognizable in things moral and social. It occurs periodically and -with more or less regularity, between certain changing, and not always -progressive phases or epochs of human civilization. It visited Sodom -and Gomorrah, Tyre and Sidon; it loomed over Nineveh and Babylon,--and -in our day it is steadily spreading its pall over Europe and America. -Its gloom is heavy and pronounced,--it would seem to be darkening -into the true sable or death colour, for there is no light of faith -to illumine it. It is the outcome of the infected breath of peoples -who are deliberately setting God aside out of their countings, and -living for Self and the Hour alone. So-called “scientists,” scraping -at the crust-covering of the mine of knowledge, and learning of its -hidden treasure about as much as might be measured with a finger-nail, -have boldly asserted that there is no God, no Supreme Intelligent -Force back of the universe,--no future life,--nothing but death and -destruction for the aspiring, fighting, working human soul,--and that, -therefore, having been created out of caprice, a “sport” of chance -and the elements, and having nothing to exist for but to make chance -and the elements as agreeable as possible during his brief conscious -experience of them, the best thing for man to do is to “eat, drink, -and be merry all the days of his life,” though even this, according to -Solomon, is “also vanity.” For of eating comes indigestion, of drink -stupefaction, and of merriment satiety. Strange it is that if there -is no higher destiny for man than this world and its uses, he should -always be thrown back upon himself dissatisfied! Give him millions of -money, and when he has them, he cares little for what they can bring; -grant him unlimited power and a few years suffice to weary him of its -use. And stranger still it is to realize, that while those who do not -admit God’s existence, strut forth like bantams on a dunghill, crowing -their little opinions about the sun-rise, we are all held fast and -guided, not only in our physical, but in our moral lives by immutable -laws, invisible in their working, but sooner or later made openly -manifest. Crime meets with punishment as surely as night follows day. -If the retribution is not of man’s making,--if human law, often so -vicious and one-sided in itself, fails to give justice to the innocent, -then Something or Someone steps in to supply man’s lack of truth and -courage, and executes a judgment from which there is no appeal. What -it is or Who it is, we may not presume to declare,--the Romans called -it Jove or Jupiter;--we call it God, while denying, with precisely the -same easy flippancy as the Romans did just before their downfall, that -such a Force exists. It is convenient and satisfying to Mammonites -and sensualists generally, to believe in nothing but themselves, and -the present day. It would be very unpleasant for them to have to -contemplate with any certainty a future life where neither Money nor -Sex prevail. And because it would be unpleasant, they naturally do not -admit its possibility. Nevertheless, without belief in the Creator and -Ruler of all things,--without faith in the higher spiritual destiny of -man as an immortal and individual soul, capable of progressing ever -onwards to wider and grander spheres of action, life in this world -appears but a poor and farcical futility. - -Yet it is precisely the poor, farcical and futile view of life that -is taken by thousands of European and American people in our present -period. Both press and pulpit reflect it; it is openly shown in the -decadence of the drama, of art, of literature, of politics, and of -social conduct. The “blight” is over all. The blight of atheism, -infidelity, callousness and indifference to honourable principle,--the -blight of moral cowardice, self-indulgence, vanity and want of heart. -Without mincing matters, it can be fairly stated that the aristocratic -Jezebel is the fashionable woman of the hour, while the men vie with -one another as to who shall best screen her from her amours with -themselves. And so far as the sterner sex are personally concerned, -the moneyed man is the one most sought after, most tolerated, most -appreciated and flattered in that swarm of drones called “society” -where each buzzing insect tries to sting the other, or crawl over it -in such wise as to be the first to steal whatever honey may be within -reach. And worst of all things is the selfish apathy which pervades -the majority of the well-to-do classes. As little sympathy is shown -among them for the living, as regret for the dead. The misfortunes of -friends are far more often made subject for ill-natured mockery than -for compassion,--the deaths of parents and relations are accepted -with a kind of dull pleasure, as making way for the inheritance of -money or estates. No real delight is shown in the arts which foster -peace, progress and wisdom; and equally little enthusiasm is stirred -for such considerations of diplomacy or government which help to -keep nations secure. A great man dies one day, and is forgotten the -next,--unless some clumsy and scandalous “biography” which rakes up -all his faults and mistakes in life, and publishes private letters of -the most intimate and sacred character, can be hawked to the front -by certain literary vultures who get their living by tearing out the -heart of a corpse. Say that a dire tragedy is enacted,--such as the -assassination of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, or the atrocious -murder of the late King and Queen of Servia,--or, what is to many minds -almost as bad,--the heartless and un-Christian conduct of Leopold, -King of the Belgians, to his unhappy daughter Stéphanie,--and though -each event may be as painful and terrible as any that ever occupied -the attention of the historian, they appear to excite no more human -emotion than a few cold expressions of civil surprise or indifference. -Feeling,--warm, honest, active, passionate feeling for any cause, is -more difficult to rouse than the Sloth from its slumbers. It would, -in truth, seem to be dead. The Church cannot move it. The Drama fails -to stir it. Patriotism,--National Honour,--have no power to lift it -from the quagmire of inertia. But let there be a sudden panic on the -Stock Exchange,--let the Paris Bourse be shaken,--let Wall Street be -ablaze with sinister rumour--and then hey and halloo for a reckless, -degrading, humiliating, miserable human stampede! Like infuriated -maniacs men shriek and stamp and wrestle;--with brains on fire, -they forget that they were born to be reasoning creatures capable -of self-control;--their much boasted-of “education” avails them -nothing,--and they offer to the gods a spectacle of frantic fear and -ignominy of which even an untaught savage might well be ashamed. - -But perhaps the most noxious sign of the blight in the social -atmosphere is the openly increasing laxity of morals, and the frankly -disgraceful disregard of the marriage tie. Herein the British -aristocracy take the lead as the choicest examples of the age. Whatever -Europe or America may show in the way of godless and dissolute living, -we are unhappily forced to realize that there are men in Great Britain, -renowned for their historic names and exclusive positions, who are -content to stand by, the tame witnesses of their own marital dishonour, -accepting, with a cowardice too contemptible for horsewhipping, -other men’s children as their own, all the time knowing them to be -bastards. We have heard of a certain “nobleman” who,--to quote Holy -Writ,--“neighed after” another man’s wife to such an extent, that to -stop the noise, the obliging husband accepted £60,000, a trifling sum, -which was duly handed over. Whether the gentleman who neighed, or the -gentleman who paid, was the worst rascal, must be left to others to -determine. It was all hushed up quite nicely,--and both parties are -received “in the best society,” with even more attention than would be -shown to them if they were clean and honest, instead of being soiled -and disreputable. The portrait of the lady whose damaged virtue was -plastered up for £60,000 is often seen in pictorials, with appended -letterpress suitably describing her as a lily-white dove of sweet -purity and peace. One blames the sinners in this sordid comedy less -than the “fashionable” folk who tolerate and excuse their conduct. -Sinners there are, and sinners there always will be,--modern Davids -will always exist who seek after Bathsheba, and do their level best to -get Uriah the Hittite comfortably out of the way,--but that they should -be encouraged in their sins and commended for them, is quite another -story. Apart from the pernicious influence they exercise on their own -particular “set,” the example of conduct they give to the nation at -large, not only arouses national contempt, but in some cases, where -certain notable politicians are concerned, may breed national disaster. - -With looseness of morals naturally comes looseness of conversation. -The conversation of many of the Upper Ten, in England at least, shows -a remarkable tendency towards repulsive subjects and objectionable -details. It is becoming quite a common thing to hear men and women -talking about their “Little Marys,” a phrase which, though invented -by Mr. J. M. Barrie, is not without considerable vulgarity and -offence. Before the brilliant Scottish novelist chose this title -for a play dealing with the digestive apparatus, it would have done -him no harm to pause and reflect that with a very large portion of -the Christian world, namely the Roman Catholic, the name of Mary is -held to be the most sacred of all names, second to none save that of -the Divine Founder of the Faith. I am told on good authority that -Americans,--especially the best of the American women,--have been -amazed and more or less scandalized at the idea that any portion of the -“cultured” British public should be found willing to attend a dramatic -representation dealing with matters pertaining to the human stomach. -I hope this report is true. My admiration for some American women is -considerable, but it would go up several points higher if I were made -quite sure that their objection to this form of theatrical enterprise -was genuine, permanent, and unconquerable. I like Mr. Barrie very much, -and his Scottish stories delight me as they delight everybody, but I -want him to draw the line at the unbeautiful details of dyspepsia. -People are already too fond of talking about the various diseases -afflicting various parts of their bodies to need any spur in that way -from the romantic drama. One of the most notorious women of the day has -attained her doubtful celebrity partially by conversing about her own -inner mechanism and other people’s inner mechanisms in a style which -is not only “free,” but frankly disgusting. But,--“she is so amusing!” -say the Smart Set,--“One cannot repeat her stories, of course--they go -_rather_ far!--but--but--you really ought to hear her tell them!” This -kind of thing is on a par with certain lewd fiction lately advertised -by certain enterprising publishers who announce--“You must have this -book! The booksellers will not show it on their bookstalls. They say -you ought NOT to read it. GET IT!” - -All homage to the booksellers who draw the line at printed garbage! One -must needs admire and respect them for refusing to take percentages -on the sale of corrupt matter. For business is always business,--and -when business men see that the tendency of a certain portion of the -reading public is towards prurient literature, they might, were they -less honourable and conscientious than they are, avail themselves -financially of this morbid and depraved taste. Especially as there are -a large number of self-called “stylists” who can always be relied -upon to praise the indecent in literature. They call it “strong,” or -“virile,” and reck nothing of the fact that the “strong” stench of it -may poison previously healthy minds, and corrupt otherwise innocent -souls. Prurient literature is always a never-failing accompaniment -of social “blight.” The fancy for it arises when wholesome literary -fare has become too simple for the diseased and capricious mental -appetite, and when the ideal conceptions of great imaginative minds, -such as the romances of Scott and Dickens, are voted “too long and -boresome!--there’s really no time to read such stories nowadays!” -No,--there is no time! There’s plenty of time to play Bridge though! - -Poetry--the greatest of the arts--is neglected at the present day, -because nobody will read it. Among the most highly “educated” persons, -many can be met with who prattle glibly about Shakespeare, but who -neither know the names of his plays nor have read a line of his work. -With the decline of Poesy comes as a matter of course the decline of -Sculpture, Painting, Architecture and Music. For Poesy is the parent -stem from which all these arts have sprung. The proofs of their decline -are visible enough amongst us to-day. Neither Great Britain, nor -Europe, nor America, can show a really great Poet. England’s last great -poet was Tennyson,--since his death we have had no other. Similarly -there is no great sculptor, no great painter, no great novelist, -no great architect, no great musician. I use the word “great,” of -course, in its largest sense, in the sense wherein we speak of Michael -Angelo, Raffaelle, or Beethoven. There are plenty of clever “sketchy” -artists,--“impressionist” painters and fictionists, “rococo” sculptors, -and melodious drawing-room song-writers,--but we wait in vain for a new -“grand” opera, a nobly-inspired statue, a novel like “Guy Mannering,” -or a Cathedral, such as the devout old monks designed in the intervals -between prayer and praise. The beautiful and poetic ideals that made -such work possible are, if not quite dead, slowly dying, under the -influence of the “blight” which infects the social atmosphere,--the -blight which is thick with Self and Sensuality,--which looms between -man and his Maker, shutting out every hopeful glimpse of the sun of -faith, whose life-giving rays invigorate the soul. And those who see -it slowly darkening--those who have been and are students of history, -and are thereby able to recognize its appearance, its meaning, and its -mission, and who know the mischief wrought by the poison it exhales, -will pray for a Storm! - - - “Come but the direst storm and stress that Fate - Can bring upon us in its darkest hour, - Then will the realm awake, however late, - From the warm sloth in which we yawn and cower, - And pass our sordid lives in greed, or mate - With animal delights in luxury’s bower; - Then will the ancient virtues bloom anew, - And love of country quench the love of gold; - Then will the mocking spirits that imbue - Our daily converse fade like misty cold - When the clear sunshine permeates the blue; - Men will be manly as in days of old, - And scorn the base delights that sink them down - Into the languid waters where they drown!” - - - - -THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY - - -There is an old song, a very old song, the refrain of which runs -thus: “’Twas merry in the hall, when the beards wagged all, We shall -never see the like again, again!--We shall never see the like again!” -Whether there was anything particularly hilarious in the wagging of -beards we may not feel able to determine, but there is unquestionably -a vague sense of something festive and social conveyed in the quaint -lines. We feel, without knowing why, that it was, it _must_ have -been, “merry in the hall,” at the distant period alluded to,--while -at the present time we are daily and hourly made painfully aware -that whether it be in hall, drawing-room or extensive “reception -gallery,” the merriment formerly so well sung and spoken of exists -no longer. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls--no!--I mean the -Beards that once wagged in the Hall, wag no more. Honest laughter has -given place to the nanny-goat sniggering bleat now common to polite -society, and understood to be the elegantly trained and “cultured” -expression of mirth. The warm hand-shake has, in a very great measure, -degenerated into the timorous offer of two or three clammy fingers -extended dubiously, as with a fear of microbes. And Hospitality, -large-hearted, smiling, gracious Hospitality, is dead and wrapped in -its grave-clothes, waiting in stiff corpse-like state for its final -burial. Public dinners, public functions of all kinds,--in England at -any rate,--are merely so many funeral feasts in memory of the great -defunct virtue. Its spirit has fled,--and there is no calling it -back again. The art of entertaining is lost,--together with the art -of conversation. And when our so-called “friends” are “at home,” we -are often more anxious to find reasons for declining rather than for -accepting their invitations, simply because we know that there is no -real “at home” in it, but merely an “out-of-home” arrangement, in which -a mixed crowd of people are asked to stand and swelter in an uneasy -crush on staircases and in drawing-rooms, pretending to listen to music -which they can scarcely hear, and scrambling for tea which is generally -too badly made to drink. Indeed, it may be doubted whether, of all -the various ludicrous social observances in which our progressive -day takes part, there is anything quite so sublimely idiotic as a -smart “At Home” in London during the height of the season. Nothing -certainly presents men and women in such a singularly unintelligent -aspect. Their faces all wear more or less the same expression of forced -amiability,--the same civil grin distorts their poor mouths--the same -wondering and weary stare afflicts their tired straining eyeballs--and -the same automatic arm-movement and hand-jerk works every unit, as -each approaches the hostess in the conventional manner enjoined by the -usages of that “cultured” hypocrisy which covers a multitude of lies. -Sheep, herding in a field and cropping the herbage in the comfortable -unconsciousness that they are eating merely to be eaten, are often -stated to be the silliest of animals,--but whether they are sillier -than the human beings who consent to be squashed together in stuffy -rooms where they can scarcely move, under the sham impression that they -are “at home” with a friend, is a matter open to question. Of course -to some minds it may be, and no doubt is, extremely edifying to learn -by the society papers that Mrs. So-and-So, or Lord and Lady Thingummy -will “entertain a great deal this season.” People who have no idea -what this kind of “entertaining” means, may have glittering visions -thereof. They may picture to themselves scenes of brilliancy where “a -thousand hearts beat happily, and when, Music arose with its voluptuous -swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went -merry as a marriage-bell!” Only these things do not happen. Anything -but love is “looked” from soft eyes and hard eyes equally;--derision, -contempt, indifference, dejection, malice, and (so far as champagne, -ices and general messy feeding are concerned) greed, light up these -“windows of the soul” from time to time during the progress of such -festivities; but love, never! The women are far too busy finding -standing-room wherein to show themselves and their newest frocks off -to advantage, to waste any moment in mere sentiment, and it is a -Christianly beautiful sight to see how the dear things who wear the -dressmaker’s latest “creations” elbow and push and hustle and tread on -the toes of their sisters who are less highly favoured than themselves -in the matter of mere clothes. As for the men,--if they have, by -dint of hard exertion, managed to get in at the “crush,” and near -enough to the hostess to bow and touch her hand, their sole attention -henceforward becomes concentrated on the business of getting out again -as rapidly as possible. For let it be said to the praise, honour and -glory of the sterner sex, that taken in the rough majority, they detest -the fashionable “At Home,” with vigorous and honest intensity,--and -unless they are of that degenerate class who like to be seen hanging -round some notoriously press-puffed “professional beauty,” or some -equally notoriously known leader of the Smart Set, they are seldom -seen at such gatherings. They feel themselves to be incongruous and -out of place,--and so they are. “At Homes” are curious sort of social -poultry-yards, where the hens have it all their own way, and do most -distinctly crow. - -But if “At Homes” are bad enough, the smart, the very smart -dinner-party is perhaps a little worse in its entire lack of the true -hospitality which, united to grace and tact and ready conversation, -should make every guest feel that his or her presence is valuable -and welcome. A small private dinner, at which the company are some -six or eight persons at most, is sometimes (though not by any means -always) quite a pleasant affair, but a “big” dinner in the “big” sense -of the word, is generally the most painful and dismal of functions, -except to those for whom silent gorging and after repletion are the -essence of all mental and physical joy. I remember--and of a truth -it would be impossible to forget--one of these dinners which took -place one season in a very “swagger” house--the house of a member of -that old British nobility whose ancestors and titles always excite a -gentle flow of saliva in the mouths of snobs. The tables--there were -two,--were, to use the formal phrase, “laid for forty covers”--that -is to say that each table accommodated twenty guests. The loveliest -flowers, the most priceless silver, the daintiest glass, adorned -the festive boards,--everything that taste could suggest or wealth -supply, had its share in the general effect of design and colour,--the -host was at the head of one table,--the hostess at the other--and -between-whiles a fine string band discoursed the sweetest music. But -with it all there was no real hospitality. We might as well have been -seated at some extra-luxurious table-d’hôte in one of the “Kur” houses -of Austria or Germany, paying so much per day for our entertainment. -Any touch of warm and kindly feeling was altogether lacking; and to -make matters worse, a heavy demon brooded over the brave outward show -of the feast,--a demon with sodden grey wings that refused to rise -and soar,--the demon of a hopeless, irremediable Stupidity! Out and -alas!--here was the core of the mischief! For sad as it is to lack -Heart in the entertaining of our friends, it doubles the calamity to -lack Brain as well! Our host was stupid;--dull to a degree unimaginable -by those who do not know what some lordly British aristocrats can be at -their own tables,--our hostess, a beautiful woman, was equally stupid, -being entirely engrossed in herself and her own bodily charms, to the -utter oblivion of the ease and well-being of her guests. What a meal -it was! How interminably it dragged its slow length along! What small -hydraulic bursts of meaningless talk spurted out between the entrées -and the game!--talk to be either checked by waiters proffering more -food, or drowned in the musical growling of the band! I believe one -man hazarded a joke,--but it was not heard,--and I know that a witty -old Irish peer told an anecdote which was promptly “quashed” by a dish -of asparagus being thrust before him, just as he was, in the richest -brogue, arriving at the “point.” But as nobody listened to him, it -did not matter. Nobody does listen to anybody or anything nowadays at -social functions. Everybody talks with insane, babbling eagerness, -apparently indifferent as to whether they are heard or not. Any amount -of people ask questions and never think of waiting for the answers. -Should any matters, small or great, require explanation, scarce a -soul has the patience or courtesy to attend to such explanation or to -follow it with any lucidity or comprehension. It is all hurry-skurry, -helter-skelter, and bad, shockingly bad, manners. - -I am given to understand that Americans, and Americans alone, retain -and cherish the old-fashioned grace of Hospitality, which is so rapidly -becoming extinct in Great Britain. I would fain believe this, but of -myself I do not know. I have had no experience of social America, -save such as has been freely and cordially taught me by Americans -in London. Some of these have indeed proved that they possess the -art of entertaining friends with real friendly delight in the grace -and charm and mutual help of social intercourse,--others again, by -an inordinate display of wealth, and a feverish yearning for the -Paragraph-Man (or Woman), have plainly shown that Hospitality is, -with them, a far less concern than Notoriety. However this may be, -no sane person will allow that it is “hospitality” to ask a number of -friends into your house and there keep them all standing because you -have managed that there shall be no room to sit down, while strong, -half-cold tea and stale confectionery are hastily dispensed among them. -It is not “hospitality” to ask people to dinner, and never speak a -word to them all the evening, because you, if a man, are engaged upon -your own little “business affair,” or, if a woman, are anxious not -to lose hold of your special male flatterer. If friends are invited, -they should surely be welcomed in the manner friendly, and made to -feel at home by the personal attention of both host and hostess. It -is not “hospitality” to turn them loose in bewildered droves through -grounds or gardens, to listen to a band which they have no doubt heard -many times before,--or to pack them all into a stuffy room to be -“entertained” by a professional musician whom they could hear to much -more comfortable and independent advantage by paying for stalls at the -legitimate concert hall. What do we really mean by Hospitality? Surely -we mean friendship, kindness, personal interest, and warm-hearted -openness of look and conduct,--and all of these are deplorably missing -from the “smart” functions of up-to-date society in London, whatever -the state of things may be concerning this antique virtue in New York -and Boston. It would appear that the chief ingredients of Hospitality -are manners,--for as Emerson says: “Manners are the _happy way_ of -doing things.” This “happy way” is becoming very rare. Society, -particularly the “Upper Ten” society,--is becoming, quite noticeably, -very rude. Some of the so-called “smartest” women are notoriously -very vulgar. Honesty, simplicity, sympathy, and delicacy of feeling -are, or seem to be, as much out of date as the dainty poems of Robert -Herrick, and the love-sonnets of Sir Philip Sidney. Time goes on, say -the iconoclasts--and we must go with it--we must, if our hurrying -civilization requires it, pass friends by with a cool nod, mock at -the vices of the young, and sneer at the failings of the old;--we -are all too busy to be courteous,--too much in a hurry grabbing gold -to be kind, and much too occupied with ourselves to be thoughtful of -others. So let us bury Hospitality decently once and for all, and -talk no more about it! It was a grand old Virtue!--let us inter it -with honour,--and cease to hold our funeral feasts and entertainments -in its name. For, being dead, ’tis dead and done with,--and amid all -our twentieth-century shams, let us at least drop, for shame, our -base imitations of the great-souled splendid Grace that was meant to -link our lives more sweetly together, to engender love, and to make -home more home-like. For nowadays, few of us are simple and truthful -enough in our lines of conduct even to understand Hospitality in -its real meaning. “Between simple and noble persons,”--says a great -philosopher--“there is always a quick intelligence; they recognize -at sight; and meet on a better ground than the talents and skills -they may chance to possess, namely, on sincerity and uprightness.” -Sincerity and uprightness are the very fibre and life-blood of true -Hospitality. But the chief canon of modern society is hypocrisy, to -begin with. Insincerity and lack of principle naturally follow, with -their usual accompaniment, moral cowardice,--and so men and women sneak -and crawl, and flatter base persons for what they can get, and reject -all chances of faithful friendship for mere ephemeral show. Under such -conditions as these, what can good old Hospitality do but draw its -last breath with a gentle sigh of expiring sorrow for the mistaken -world which prefers a lie to a truth, and still to this day crucifies -all its loving would-be redeemers on miserable Calvarys of desolation! -No happiness does it gain thereby, but only increased bitterness and -weariness,--and the fact that all our social customs have greatly -changed since the old time when households were wisely ruled and very -simply ordered, is no advantage to the general social community. We -may, if we choose,--(and we very often do so choose,) fly from one -desire to another and thence to satiety, and back again from satiety to -desire, but we shall never, in such pursuit, find the peace engendered -by simplicity of life, or the love and lasting joy inspired by that -honourable confidence in one another’s best and noblest attributes, -which should frankly and openly set the seal on friendship, and make -Hospitality a glad duty as well as a delight. “Old-fashioned” as it may -be, no new fashion can ever replace it. - - - - -THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH - - -There are certain periods in the lives of nations when the balance of -things in general would seem to be faultily adjusted; when one side -of the scale almost breaks and falls to the ground through excess of -weight, and the other tips crazily upward, well-nigh to overturning, -through an equally undue excess of lightness. The inequality can be -traced with mathematical precision as occurring at regular intervals -throughout the world’s history. It is as though the clock of human -affairs had been set correctly for a certain limited time only, and -was then foredoomed to fall out of gear in such a manner as to need -cleansing and winding up afresh. A good many people, including some of -the wisest of our few wise men, have openly expressed the opinion that -we, of the proudest and greatest Empire at present under the sun, have -almost reached that particularly fatal figure on the Eternal Dial, - - - When all the wheels run down, - - -and when the scales of Justice are becoming so dangerously worn -out and uneven, as to suggest an incapacity for holding social and -political weights and measures much longer. One of the symptoms of this -overstrained condition of our latter-day civilization is precisely -the same danger-signal which has in all ages accompanied national -disaster--a pernicious influence, like that of the planet “Algol,” -which, when in the ascendant, is said to betoken mischief and ruin -to all who see it rise on the horizon. Our evil Star, the evil star -of all Empires, has long ago soared above the eastern edge; fully -declared, it floods our heaven with such lurid brilliancy that we -can scarce perceive any other luminary. And its name is Mammon. The -present era in which we are permitted by Divine law to run through -our brief existence and make our mark or miss it, as we choose, is -principally distinguished by an insane worship of Wealth. Wealth in -excess--wealth in chunks--wealth in great awkward, unbecoming dabs, -is plastered, as it were, by the merest hap-hazard toss of fortune’s -dice, on the backs of uncultured and illiterate persons, who, bowed -down like asses beneath the golden burden, are asininely ignorant -of its highest uses. The making of millions would seem to be like a -malignant fever, which must run its course, ending in either the death -or the mental and physical wreck of the patient. He who has much money -seems always to find it insufficient, and straightway proceeds to make -more; while he who has not only much, but superabundance of the dross, -scatters it in every direction broadcast, wherever it can best serve -as an aid to his own self-advertisement, vanity and ostentation. Once -upon a time wealth could not purchase an entrance into society; now -it is the only pass-key. Men of high repute for learning, bravery, -and distinctive merit, are “shunted” as it were off the line to make -way for the motor-car traffic of plutocrats, who, by dint of “push,” -effrontery, and brazen impudence, manage to shout their income figures -persistently in the ears of those whose high privilege it is to -“give the lead” in social affairs. And to the shame of such exalted -individuals be it said, that they listen, with ears stretched wide, -to the yell of the huckster in stocks and shares; and setting aside -every thought for the future of Great Britain and the highest honour -of her sons and daughters, they sell their good word, their influence, -and their favour easily, for so much cash down. Men and women who have -the privilege of personally knowing, and frequently associating with -the Royal Family, are known to accept payment for bringing such and -such otherwise obscure persons under the immediate notice of the King; -and it is a most unfortunate and regrettable fact that throughout the -realm the word goes that no such obscure persons ever dine with their -Sovereign without having paid the “middle man” for the privilege. It -would be an easy matter for the present writer to name at least a -dozen well-known society women, assuming to be “loyal,” who make a -very good thing out of their “loyalty” by accepting huge payments in -exchange for their recommendation or introduction to Royal personages, -and who add considerably to their incomes by such means, bringing -the names of the King and Queen down to their own sordid level of -bargain and sale, with a reckless disregard of the damaging results -of such contemptible conduct. These are some of the very ladies who -are most frequently favoured by notice at Court, and who occupy the -position of being in the “swagger set.” Whereas, the men and women -who are faithful, who hold the honour of their King dearer than their -own lives, who refuse to truckle to the spirit of money-worship, and -who presume to denounce the sickening hypocrisy of modern society -life and its shameless prostitution of high ideals, are “hounded” by -those portions of the Press which are governed by Jew syndicates, and -slandered by every dirty cad that makes his cheap living by putting his -hand secretly in his neighbour’s pocket. Never, in all the ages of the -world, have truth-tellers been welcome; from Socrates to Christ the -same persecution has followed every human being who has had enough of -God in him or her to denounce shams; and the Christian religion itself -is founded on the crucifixion of Honesty by the priests of Hypocrisy. -It is a lesson that can hardly be too deeply dwelt upon at the present -notable time of day, which seems, for many students of national -affairs, the crucial point of a coming complete change in British -history. - -On every side, look where we may, we see an almost brutal dominance -of wealth. We see the Yankee Trade-octopus, stretching out greedy -tentacles in every direction, striving to grasp British shipping, -British industries, and British interests everywhere, in that devouring -and deadly grip, which, if permitted to hold, would mean mischief and -loss of prestige to our country, though, no doubt, it might create -rejoicing in America. For America is by no means so fond of us as -certain interested parties would have us suppose. She would dearly like -to “patronise” us, but she does not love us, though at present she -hides her hand. In a case of struggle, she would not support the “old -country” for mere sentimental love of it. She would naturally serve -only her own best interests. As a nation of bombast and swagger, she -is a kind of “raree-show” in the world’s progress; but her strength -is chiefly centred in dollars, and her influence on the social world -teaches that “dollars are the only wear.” English society has been -sadly vulgarized by this American taint. Nevertheless, it is, as it -has always been, a fatal mistake for any nation to rely on the extent -of its cash power alone. Without the real spirit which makes for -greatness--without truth, without honour, without sincere patriotism -and regard for the real well-being and honest government of the -majority--any national system, whether monarchical or republican, must -inevitably decay and perish from the face of the earth. - -Unblemished honesty is the best policy for statesmen; but that such has -been their rule of conduct in these latter years may perhaps be open to -question. The late Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, whose broad-minded, impartial -views of life, commend themselves forcibly to every literary student, -writing of Cecil Rhodes, whose funeral service was celebrated with such -almost royal pomp in St. Paul’s Cathedral, gives us a sketch which -should make the most casual “man in the street” pause and reflect as to -whether those solemn public rites and tributary honours from both the -King and Queen were not somewhat out of place on such an occasion. - -“What Mr. Rhodes did,” wrote Mr. Lecky, in his strong, trenchant -way, “has been very clearly established. When holding the highly -confidential position of Prime Minister of the Cape Colony, and being -at the same time a Privy Councillor of the Queen, he engaged in a -conspiracy for the overthrow of the Government of a neighbouring -and friendly State. In order to carry out this design, he deceived -the High Commissioner whose Prime Minister he was. He deceived his -own colleagues in the Ministry. He collected under false pretences -a force which was intended to co-operate with an insurrection in -Johannesburg. Being a Director of the Chartered Company, he made use -of that position without the knowledge of his colleagues to further -the conspiracy. He took an active and secret part in smuggling great -quantities of arms into the Transvaal, which were intended to be used -in the rebellion; and at a time when his organs in the Press were -representing Johannesburg as seething with spontaneous indignation -against an oppressive Government, he, with another millionaire, was -secretly expending many thousands of pounds in that town in stimulating -and subsidizing the rising. He was also directly connected with the -shabbiest incident in the whole affair, the concoction of a letter -from the Johannesburg conspirators absurdly representing English women -and children at Johannesburg as in danger of being shot down by the -Boers, and urging the British to come at once and save them. It was a -letter drawn up with the sanction of Mr. Rhodes many weeks before the -raid, and before any disturbance had arisen; and kept in reserve to -be dated and used in the last moment for the purpose of inducing the -young soldiers in South Africa to join in the raid, and of subsequently -justifying their conduct before the War Office, and also for the -purpose of being published in the English Press at the same time as -the first news of the raid in order to work upon English opinion, and -persuade the English people that the raid, though technically wrong was -morally justifiable.... No reasonable judge can question that in these -transactions he was more blamable than those who were actually punished -by the law for taking part in the raid, far more blamable than those -young officers who were, in truth, the most severely punished and who -had been induced to take part in it under false representation of the -wishes of the Government at home, and a grossly false representation -of the state of things at Johannesburg. The failure of the raid, and -his undoubted complicity with its design, obliged Mr. Rhodes to resign -the post of Prime Minister, and his directorship of the Chartered -Company.... But what can be thought of the language of a Minister who -volunteered to assure the House of Commons that in all the transactions -I have described, Mr. Rhodes, though he had made ‘a gigantic mistake,’ -a mistake perhaps as great as a statesman could make, had done nothing -affecting his personal honour?” - -What has been thought, and what _is_ thought of the matter, has been -largely suppressed by party politicians. The War Enquiry was conducted -with secrecy; Cabinet Ministers held their Councils, as it were, with -locked doors. An eager desire to conceal the real state of affairs in -the country, and an unfortunate tendency to “hush up” such matters -as are the plain right of ratepayers to know, are the betraying signs -of many of our statesmen’s inward disquiet. Because, as many people -instinctively feel, the trail of finance is likely to be openly traced -to an unlawful, and in some cases, dishonourable extent, over much -recent political work. Honour, however, is due to those Ministers who -valiantly endeavour to screen greater names than their own behind their -skilful diplomacy; and one naturally admires the zeal and courage with -which they fight for this cause, even as M. Maurepas and M. Necker -fought a similar campaign long ago in the dark days of France, when, -as Carlyle writes, it was “clearly a difficult point for Government, -that of the dealing with the masses--if indeed it be not rather the -sole point and problem of Government, and all other points were -incidental crotchets, superficialities, and beatings of the wind! For -let Charter-chests, Use and Wont, Law, common and special, say what -they will, the masses count to so many millions of units, made to all -appearance by God, whose earth this is declared to be. Besides, the -people are not without ferocity; they have sinews and indignation.” - -At the immediate moment, the masses in our country are, rightly or -wrongly, vaguely conscious of two things which they view as forms -of injustice, namely, that they are asked to pay rates for an -educational system which a large bulk of them do not approve, and that -they are taxed for the expenses of a war, the conduct of which was -discussed “secretly,” as though its methods implied some dishonour -to those concerned in it. Moreover, they understand, with more or -less bewilderment, that though the King is now “Supreme Lord of the -Transvaal” there is no chance whatever for British subjects to make -fortune there, the trades being swamped by Germans, and the mines -controlled by Jews. Therefore, in their inability to follow the devious -paths of reasoning by which politicians explain away what they term -“ignorant and illiterate” conclusions, some of them begin to think that -the blood of their sons has been shed in hard battle, not so much for -the glory and good of the many, as for the private greed of the few. -They are no doubt wrong; but it will take something more than “secret” -enquiries to set them right. - -Meanwhile, the passing of the social pageant interests them more -deeply than is apparent on the frothy surface of social things. Their -contempt is aroused and kept sullenly alive by daily contemplation of -the flagrant assertion of money-dominance over every other good. They -hear of one Andrew Carnegie strewing Free Libraries over the surface -of the country, as if these institutions were so many lollipops thrown -out of a schoolboy’s satchel; they follow the accounts of his doings -with a mingling of wonder and derision, some of them up in Scotland -openly and forcibly regretting the mischief done to the famed “grit and -grip” of Scottish students, who are not now, as of yore, forced by hard -necessity to work for their University education themselves, and win -it, as it were, by the very skin of their teeth. Hard necessity is a -fine taskmaster, and turns out splendid scholars and useful men. But -when educational advantages are thrown headlong at aspiring students, -and Universities are opened freely, as though they were a species of -pauper-refuge, the delights of learning are apt to be proportionately -cheapened and lessened. Lads with real ability naturally and invariably -seek to do something that shall prove their own capabilities of pluck -and endurance; and a truly independent spirit not only chafes at, -but absolutely resents, assistance. Thus it has come to pass that -Mr. Carnegie’s Free Libraries are looked upon by hosts of people as -so many brick and mortar advertisements of his own great wealth and -unfailing liberality. A labour leader of some repute among his own -class, remarked the other day that “the Carnegie libraries were like -‘So-and-So’s Pills,’ posted up everywhere lest the inventor’s name -should be forgotten!” This was an unkind, and perhaps an ungrateful -observation, but we have to recollect that a People, taken _as_ a -People, do not want to be grateful for anything. They want to work -for all they get, and to feel that they have honestly deserved their -earnings. It is only the drones of the hive that seek to be taken care -of. The able citizen strenuously objects to be helped in obtaining -sustenance for either his soul or his body. What is necessary for him, -that he will fight for, and, having won the battle, he enjoys the -victory. There is no pleasure in conquering an enemy, if a policeman -has helped you to knock him down. - -Thus, with many of the more independently-thinking class, millionaire -Carnegie’s money, pitched at the public, savours of “patronage” which -they resent, and ostentation which they curtly call “swagger.” Free -Libraries are by no means essential to perfect happiness, while they -may be called extremely detrimental to the prosperity of authors. A -popular author would have good reason to rejoice if his works were -excluded from Free Libraries, inasmuch as his sales would be twice, -perhaps three times as large. If a Free Library takes a dozen copies of -a book, that dozen copies has probably to serve for five or six hundred -people, who get it in turn individually. But if the book could not -possibly be obtained for gratuitous reading in this fashion, and could -only be secured by purchase, then it follows that five or six hundred -copies would be sold instead of twelve. This applies only to authors -whose works the public clamour for, and insist on reading; with the -more select “unpopular” geniuses the plan, of course, would not meet -with approval. In any case, a Free Library is neither to an author, -nor to the reading public, an unmitigated boon. One has to wait for -months sometimes for the book specially wanted; sometimes one’s name -is 1,000 on the list, though certain volumes known as “heavy stock” -can always be obtained immediately on application, but are seldom -applied for. Real book-lovers buy their books and keep them. Reading -which is merely haphazard and casual is purely pernicious, and does -far more harm than good. However, Carnegie, being the possessor of -millions, probably does not know what else to do with the cash except -in the way of Libraries. To burden a human biped with tons of gold, -and then set him adrift to get rid of it as best he may, is one of the -scurviest tricks of Fortune. Inasmuch as ostentation is the trade mark -of vulgarity, and a rich man cannot spend his money without at least -_appearing_ ostentatious. The revival of the spinning and silk-weaving -industries in England would be a far nobler and more beneficial help -to the country and to the many thousands of people, than any number -of Free Libraries, yet no millionaire comes forward to offer the -needful assistance towards this deserving end. But perhaps a hundred -looms set going, with their workers all properly supported, would not -be so prominently noticed in the general landscape as a hundred Free -Libraries. - -Apart from the manner in which certain rich men spend their wealth, -there is something in an overplus of riches which is distinctly “out -of drawing,” and lop-sided. It is a false note in the musical scale. -Just as a woman, by wearing too great a number of jewels, vulgarizes -whatever personal beauty she may possess by the flagrant exhibition of -valuables and bad taste together, so does a man who has no other claim -upon society than that of mere wealth, appear as a kind of monstrosity -and deformity in the general equality and equilibrium of Nature. When -such a man’s career is daily seen to be nothing more than a constant -pursuit of his own selfish ends, regardless of truth, honour, high -principle, and consideration for his fellow-men, he becomes even more -than a man-camel with a golden hump--he is an offence and a danger to -the community. If, by mere dint of cash, he is allowed to force his -way everywhere--if no ruling sovereign on the face of the earth has -sufficient wisdom or strength of character to draw a line against the -entrance into society and politics of Money, for mere Money’s sake, -then the close of our circle of civilisation is nearly reached, and -the old story of Tyre and Sidon and Babylon will be re-told again for -us with the same fatal conclusion to which Volney, in his _Ruins of -Empires_ impressively calls attention, in the following passage: - -“Cupidity, the daughter and companion of ignorance, has produced -all the mischiefs that have desolated the globe. Ignorance and the -love of accumulation, these are the two sources of all the plagues -that infest the life of man. They have inspired him with false ideas -of his happiness, and prompted him to misconstrue and infringe the -laws of nature, as they related to the connection between him and -exterior objects. Through them his conduct has been injurious to his -own existence, and he has thus violated the duty he owes to himself; -they have fortified his heart against compassion, and his mind against -the dictates of justice, and he has thus violated the duty he owes -to others. By ignorant and inordinate desire, man has armed himself -against man, family against family, tribe against tribe, and the earth -is converted into a bloody theatre of discord and robbery. They have -sown the seeds of secret war in the bosom of every state, divided -the citizens from each other, and the same society is constituted of -oppressors and oppressed, of masters and slaves. They have taught the -heads of nations, with audacious insolence, to turn the arms of society -against itself, and _to build upon mercenary avidity the fabric of -political despotism_, or they have a _more hypocritical and deep-laid -project, that imposes, as the dictate of heaven, lying sanctions and -a sacrilegious yoke, thus rendering avarice the source of credulity_. -In fine, they have corrupted every idea of good and evil, just and -unjust, virtue and vice; they have misled nations in a _labyrinth -of calamity and mistake_. Ignorance and the love of accumulation! -These are the malevolent beings that have laid waste the earth; these -are the decrees of fate that have overturned empires; these are the -celestial maledictions that have struck these walls, once so glorious, -and converted the splendour of populous cities into a sad spectacle of -ruins!” - -Laughable, yet grievous, is the childish conduct of many American -plutocrats who are never tired of announcing in the daily Press that -they are spending Three Thousand Pounds on roses for one afternoon’s -“At Home,” or Five Thousand Pounds on one single banquet! After this, -why should we call the Roman Heliogabalus a sensualist and voluptuary? -His orgies were less ostentatious than many social functions of to-day. -It is not, we believe, recorded that he paid any “fashion-papers” -(if there were any such in the Roman Empire) to describe his “Feasts -of Flowers,” though a lively American lady, giving out her “social -experiences” recently at an “Afternoon tea” said gaily: “I always send -an account of my dinners, my dresses, and the dresses of my friends to -‘_The ----_’ with a cheque. Otherwise, you know, I should never get -myself or my parties mentioned at all!” One is bound to entertain the -gravest doubts as to the truth of her assertion, knowing, of course, -that of all institutions in the world, the Press, in Great Britain at -any rate, is the last to be swayed by financial considerations. One -has never heard (in England at least) of any “Company” paying several -thousand pounds to the Press for “floating it.” Though such things -may be done in America, they are never tolerated here. But, the Press -apart, which in its unblemished rectitude “shines like a good deed -in a naughty world,” most things in modern politics and society are -swayed by money considerations, and the sudden acquisition of wealth -does not in many cases improve the morality of the person so favoured, -or persuade him to discharge such debts as he may have incurred in -his days of limited means. On the contrary, he frequently ignores -these, and proceeds to incur fresh liabilities, as in the striking -case of a lady “leader of society” at the present day, who, having -owed large sums to certain harmless and confiding tradesmen for the -past seven or eight years, ignores these debts or “shunts them,” and -spends six thousand pounds recklessly on the adornment of rooms for -the entertainment of Royalty--which fact most notably proclaims her -vulgarity, singularly allied to her social distinction. The payment of -her debts first, and the entertainment of great personages afterwards, -would seem to be a nobler and more becoming thing. - -But show and vanity, pride and “bounce,” appear to have taken the -place of such old-fashioned virtues as simplicity, sincerity, and that -genuine hospitality which asserts nothing, but gives all. - - - Kind hearts are more than coronets, - And simple faith than Norman blood. - - -In very few cases does immense wealth seem to go hand in hand with -refinement, reserve and dignity. Millionaires are for the most part -ill-mannered and illiterate, and singularly uninteresting in their -conversation. A certain millionaire, occupying during some seasons -one of the fine old Scottish Castles whose owners still take pride -in the fact that its walls once sheltered “bonnie Prince Charlie,” -can find little to do with himself and his “house-party,” but fill -the grand old drawing-room with tobacco-smoke and whisky-fumes of -an evening, and play “Bridge” for ruinous stakes on Sundays, of all -days in the week. During other hours and days he goes out shooting, -or drives a motor-car. Intellectually speaking, the man is less of a -real personality than the great Newfoundland dog he owns. But measured -by gold he is a person of enormous importance--a human El Dorado. And -his banking-account is the latchkey with which he opens the houses of -the great and intrudes his coarse presence through the doors of royal -palaces; whereas if by some capricious stroke of ill-luck he had not -a penny left in the world, those same doors would be shut in his face -with a bang. - -The vulgarity of wealth is daily and hourly so broadly evidenced -and apparent, that one can well credit a strange rumour prevalent -in certain highly exclusive circles, far removed from the “swagger -set,” to the effect that with one more turn of blind Fortune’s wheel, -the grace of Poverty will become a rare social distinction. The Poor -Gentleman, it is said, will be eagerly sought after, and to be seen in -his company will entitle one to respect. The man of money will stand -outside the ring of this Society, which is in process of formation for -the revival of the Art of Intelligent Conversation and the Cultivation -of Good Manners. Ladies who dress with a becoming simplicity, and who -are not liable to the accusation of walking about with clothes unpaid -for, will be eligible for membership,--and young men who are not -ashamed to emphatically decline playing cards on Sunday will be equally -welcome in the select coterie. Limited means will be considered more -of a recommendation than a drawback, and visits will be interchanged -among the members on the lines of unaffected hospitality, offered with -unassuming friendship and sincerity. Kindness towards each other, -punctilious attention to the smallest courtesies of life, unfailing -chivalry towards women, and honour to men, will be the prevailing -“rules” of the community, and every attempt at “show,” either in -manners or entertainment, will be rigorously forbidden and excluded. -The aim of the Society will be to prove the truth of the adage that -“Manners makyth the man,” as opposed to the modern reading, “Money -makyth the nobleman.” Bearing in mind that the greatest reformers and -teachers of the world were seldom destitute of the grace of Poverty, it -will be deemed good and necessary to make a stand for this ancient and -becoming Virtue, which as a learned writer says, “doth sit on a wise -man more becomingly than royal robes on a king.” Many who entertain -this view are prepared to unite their forces in making well-born and -well-bred Poverty the fashion. For in such a scheme, singular as it may -appear, there is just a faint chance of putting up a barrier against -boorish Plutocracy (which is a more unwieldy and offensive power than -Democracy), and also of asserting the existence of grander national -qualities than greed, avarice, and self-indulgence, which humours, if -allowed to generate and grow in the minds of a people, result in the -ravaging sickness of such a pestilence of evil as cannot be easily -stayed or remedied. There has been enough, and too much of the Idolatry -of Money-bags--it is time the fever of such insanity should abate and -cool down. To conclude with another admirable quotation from Mr. Lecky: -“Of colossal fortunes only a very small fraction can be truly said to -minister to the personal enjoyment of the owner. The disproportion in -the world between pleasure and cost is indeed almost ludicrous. The two -or three shillings that gave us our first Shakespeare would go but a -small way towards providing one of the perhaps untasted dishes on the -dessert table. The choicest masterpieces of the human mind--the works -of human genius that through the long course of centuries have done -most to ennoble, console, brighten, and direct the lives of men, might -all be purchased--I do not say by the cost of a lady’s necklace, but -by that of one or two of the little stones of which it is composed. -Compare the relish with which the tired pedestrian eats his bread and -cheese with the appetites with which men sit down to some stately -banquet; compare the level of spirits at the village dance with that -of the great city ball whose lavish splendour fills the society papers -with admiration; compare the charms of conversation in the college -common room with the weary faces that may be often seen around the -millionaire’s dinner table, and we may gain a good lesson of the -vanity of riches.” - -And, we may add, of the vulgarity of those who advertise their wealth -by ostentation, as well as of those who honour Purses more than -Principles. - - - - -AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND - - -Why is the American woman so popular in English society? Why is her -charmingly assertive personality acknowledged everywhere? Why is she -received by knights and earls and belted churls with such overpowering -enthusiasm? Surely something subtle, elusive and mysterious, clings to -her particular form, nature and identity, for more often than not, the -stolid Britisher, while falling at her feet and metaphorically kissing -the hem of her garment, wonders vaguely how it is that she manages to -make such a fool of him! To which, she might reply, on demand, that if -he were not a fool already, she would not find her task so easy! For -the American woman is, above all women in the world, clever--or let -us say “brainy” to an almost incredible height of brainyness. She is -“all there.” She can take the measure of a man in about ten minutes -and classify him as though he were a botanical specimen. She realizes -all his limitations, his “notions,” and his special and particular -fads,--and she has the uncommonly good sense not to expect much of -him. She would not “take any” on the lily-maid of Astolat, the fair -Elaine, who spent her time in polishing the shield of Lancelot, and who -finally died of love for that most immoral but fascinating Knight of -the Round Table. No, she wouldn’t polish a shield, you bet! She would -make Lancelot polish it himself for all he was worth, and polish her -own dear little boots and shoes for her into the bargain. That is one -of her secrets--masterfulness--or, let us say queenliness, which sounds -better. The Lord of creation can do nothing in the way of ordering -_her_ about,--because, as the Lady of creation she expects to order -_him_ about,--and she does! She expects to be worked for, worshipped -and generally attended to,--and she gets her way. What she wants, she -will have,--though “Companies” smash, and mighty Combines split into -infinite nothingness; and more than any tamer of wild forest animals -she makes all her male lions and bears dance at her bidding. - -Perhaps the chief note in the ever-ascending scale of her innumerable -attractions is her intense vitality. The mixed blood of many -intelligent races courses through her delicate veins and gives a -joyous lightness to the bounding of her heart and the swift grace of -her step. She is full of energy as well as charm. If she sets out to -enjoy herself, she enjoys herself thoroughly. She talks and laughs -freely. She is not a mere well-dressed automaton like the greater -majority of upper-class British dames. She is under the impression,--(a -perfectly correct one) that tongues were given to converse with, and -that lips, especially pretty ones, were made to smile with. She is, -taken at her best, eminently good-natured, and refreshingly free from -the jaundiced spite against others of her own sex which savours the -afternoon chitter-chatter of nine out of every ten English spinsters -and matrons taken together in conclave. She would, on the whole, -rather say a kind thing than a cruel one. Perhaps this is because she -is herself always so triumphant in her social career,--because she is -too certain of her own power to feel “the pangs of unrequited love,” -or to allow herself to be stung by the “green-eyed monster,” jealousy. -Her car is always rolling over roses,--there is always a British title -going a-begging,--always some decayed or degenerate or semi-drunken -peer, whose fortunes are on the verge of black ruin, ready and willing -to devour, monster-like, the holocaust of an American virgin, provided -bags of bullion are flung, with her, into his capacious maw. Though -certainly one should look upon the frequent marriages of American -heiresses with effete British nobles, as the carrying out of a wise -and timely dispensation of Providence. New blood--fresh sap, is sorely -needed to invigorate the grand old tree of the British aristocracy, -which has of late been looking sadly as though dry rot were setting -in,--as though the woodlice were at work in its heart, and the rats -burrowing at its root. But, by the importation of a few clean-minded, -sweet-souled American women, some of the most decayed places in the -venerable stem have been purged and purified,--the sap has risen, and -new boughs and buds of promise are sprouting. And it is full time that -this should be. For we have had to look with shame and regret upon -many of our English lords caught in gambling dens,--and shown up in -dishonourable bankruptcies;--some of them have disported themselves -upon the “variety” stage, clad in women’s petticoats and singing comic -songs for a fee,--others have “hired themselves out” as dummy figures -of attraction at evening parties, accepting five guineas for each -appearance,--and they have become painfully familiar objects in the -Divorce Court, where the stories of their most unsavoury manners and -customs, as detailed in the press, have offered singular instruction -and example to those “lower” classes whom they are supposed to more or -less influence. A return to the old motto of “noblesse oblige” would -not be objectionable; a re-adopting of old _un_-blemished scutcheons -of honour would be appreciated, even by the so-called “vulgar,”--and a -great noble who is at the same time a great man, would in this present -day, be accepted by all classes with an universal feeling of grateful -surprise and admiration. - -But, _revenons à nos moutons_,--the social popularity of the American -woman in English society. That she is popular is an admitted and -incontestable fact. She competes with the native British female -product at every turn,--in her dress, in her ways, in her irresistible -vivacity, and above all in her intelligence. When she knows things, she -lets people know that she knows things. She cannot sit with her hands -before her in stodgy silence, allowing other folks to talk. That is an -English habit. No doubt the English girl or woman knows quite as much -as her American sister, but she has an unhappy knack of assuming to -be a fool. She says little, and that little not to much purpose,--she -looks less,--it is dimly understood that she plays hockey, tennis and -golf, and has large feet. She is an athletic Enigma. I write this, of -course, solely concerning those British women, young, middle-aged -and elderly, who make “sport” and out-door exercise the chief aim and -end of existence. But I yield to none in my love and admiration for -the real, genuine, _un_modernised English maiden, at her gentlest and -best,--she is the rosebud of the world. And I tender devout reverence -and affection to the _un_-fashionable, single-hearted, dear, loving -and ever-beloved English wife and mother--she is the rose in all its -full-blown glory. Unfortunately, however, these English rosebuds -and roses are seldom met with in the sweltering, scrambling crowd -called “society.” They dwell in quiet country-places where the lovely -influences of their modest and retiring lives are felt but never seen. -Society likes to be seen rather than felt. There is all the difference. -And in that particular section of it whose aim is seeing to be seen, -and seen to be seeing, the American woman is as an oasis in the desert. -She also wants to be seen,--but she expresses that desire so naïvely, -and often so bewitchingly, that it is a satisfaction to every one to -grant her request. She also would see,--and her eyes are so bright and -roving and restless, that Mother Britannia is perforce compelled to -smile indulgently, and to open all her social picture-books for the -pleasure of the spoilt child of eternal Mayflower pedigree. It has to -be said and frankly admitted too, that much of the popularity attending -an American girl when she first comes over to London for a “season” is -due to an idea which the stolid Britisher gets into his head, namely, -that she has, she _must_ have, Money. The American girl and Money are -twins, according to the stolid Britisher’s belief. And when the stolid -Britisher fixes something--anything--into the passively-resisting -matter composing his brain, it would take Leviathan, with, not one, -but several hooks, to _un_fix it. And thus it often happens that the -sight of a charmingly dressed, graceful, generally “smart” American -girl attracts the stolid Britisher in the first place because he says -to himself--“Money!” He knows all the incomes of all the best families -in his own country,--and none of them are big enough to suit him. But -the American girl arrives as more or less of a financial mystery. She -may have thousands,--she may have millions,--he can never be quite -sure. And he does all he can to ingratiate himself with her and give -her a good time “on spec.” to begin with, while he makes cautious and -diplomatic enquiries. If his hopes rest on a firm basis, his attentions -are redoubled--if, on the contrary, they are built on shifting sand, he -gradually diminishes his ardour and like a “wilting flower” fades and -“fizzles” away. - -I am here reminded of a certain Earl, renowned in the political and -social world, who, when he was a young man, went over on a visit to -America and there fell, or feigned to fall, deeply in love with a -very sweet, very beautiful, very gentle and lovable American girl. -In a brief while he became engaged to her. The engagement was made -public--the wedding day was almost fixed. The girl’s father was -extremely wealthy, and she was the only child and sole heiress. But an -unfortunate failure,--a gigantic collapse in the money market, made -havoc of the father’s fortunes, and as soon as his ruin was declared -beyond a doubt, the noble Earl, without much hesitation or ado, broke -off his engagement, and rapidly decamped from the States back to -his own country, where, as all the world knows, he did very well for -himself. Strange to say, however, the girl whom he had thus brutally -forsaken for no fault of her own, had loved him with all the romantic -and trusting tenderness of first love, and the heartless blow inflicted -upon her by his noble and honourable lordship was one from which she -never recovered. The Noble and Honourable has, I repeat, done very -well for himself, though it is rumoured that he sleeps badly, and that -he has occasionally been heard muttering after the fashion of Hamlet, -Prince of Denmark,--“Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count -myself a king of infinite space were it not that I have bad dreams!” - -Marriage, however, is by no means the only, or even the chief -resource in life of the American woman. She evidently looks with a -certain favour on the holy estate of matrimony and is quite willing -to become an excellent wife and mother if the lines of her destiny -run that way, but if they should happen to branch out in another -direction, she wastes no time in useless pining. She is too vital, -too capable, too intelligent and energetic altogether to play the -_rôle_ of an interesting martyr to male neglect. She will teach, or -she will lecture,--she will sing, or she will act,--she will take her -degrees in medicine and surgery,--she will practise for the Bar,--she -will write books, and the days are fast approaching when she will -become a high priestess of the Church, and will preach to the lost -sheep of Israel as well as to the equally lost ones of New York or -Chicago;--she will be a “beauty doctor,” a “physical culture” woman, -a “medium,” a stock-broker, a palmist, a florist, a house-decorator, -a dealer in lace and old curiosities,--ay! she will even become a -tram-car conductor if necessity compels and the situation is open to -her,--and she will manage a cattle ranch as easily as a household, -should opportunity arise. Marriage is but one link in the long chain -of her general efficiency, and like Cleopatra, “age cannot wither her, -nor custom stale Her infinite variety.” A curious fact and one worth -noting is, that we seldom or never hear Americans use the ill-bred -expression “old maid” when alluding to such of their feminine relatives -or friends who may happen to remain unmarried. They know too well -that these confirmed and settled spinsters are as capable and as well -to the front in the rush of life as the wedded wives, if not more -so,--they know that among these unmarried feminine forces they have -to reckon with some of the cleverest heads of the day, to whom no -opprobrious term of contempt dare be applied,--women who are editors -and proprietors of great newspapers,--women who manage famous schools -and colleges,--women who, being left with large fortunes, dispense the -same in magnificently organized but _un_advertised charities,--women -who do so command by their unassisted influence certain social -movements and events, that if indeed they _were_ to marry, something -like confusion and catastrophe might ensue among the circles they -control by the introduction of a new and possibly undesirable element. -“Old maid,” may apply to the unfortunate female who has passed all the -days of her youth in talking about men and in failing to catch so much -as one of the wandering tribe, and who, on arriving at forty years, -meekly retires to the chimney corner with shawl over her shoulders and -some useful knitting,--but it carries neither meaning nor application -to the brisk, brilliant American spinster who at fifty keeps her trim -svelte figure, dresses well, goes here, there and everywhere, and -sheds her beaming smile with good-natured tolerance, and perchance -something of gratitude as well, on the men she has escaped from. Life -does not run only in one channel for the American Woman. She does not -“make tracks” solely from the cradle to the altar, from the altar -to the grave. She realizes that there is more fun to be got out of -being born than just this little old measure meted out to her by the -barbaric males of earliest barbaric periods, when women were yoked to -the plough with cattle. And it is the innate consciousness of her own -power and intelligent ability that gives her the dominating charm,--the -magnetic spell under which the stolid Britisher falls more or less -stricken, stupefied and inert. He is never a great talker; she is. -Her flow of conversation bewilders him. She knows so much too--she -chatters of Shakespeare, Byron, Shelley, Keats--and he thinks he has -heard of these people somewhere before. He listens dumbly. Sometimes -he scratches his head,--occasionally he feels his moustache, if he has -one. When she laughs, he smiles slowly and dubiously. He hopes she is -not laughing at _him_. He feels--he feels--dontcherknow--that she is -“ripping.” He couldn’t tell you what he means by “ripping” to save -his life. But painfully accustomed as he is to the dull and listless -conversation of the British materfamilias, and to the half-hoydenish -conduct of the British tom-boy girl who _will_ insist on playing golf -and hockey with him in order not to lose him out of her sight, he is -altogether refreshed and relieved when the American Woman dawns upon -his cloudy horizon, and instead of waiting upon _him_, commands him -to wait upon _her_, with one dazzling look of her bright, audacious -eye. The American Woman is not such a fool as to go play hockey with -him at all times and in all weathers, thereby allowing him to take the -unchecked measure of her ankles. She is too clever to do anything that -might possibly show her in an unlovely or ungraceful light. She takes -care to keep her hands soft and small and white, that they may be duly -caressable,--and makes the best and prettiest of herself on all and -every occasion. And that she has succeeded in taking English society -by storm is no matter of surprise. English society, unmixed with any -foreign element, is frequently said to be the dullest in the world. It -is an entertainment where no one is entertained. A civil apathy wraps -each man and woman in its fibrous husk, and sets them separately apart -behind barricades of the most idiotic conventionality. The American -Woman is the only being that can break down these barricades and tear -the husk to shreds. No wonder she is popular! The secret of her success -is in her own personal charm and vivacious intelligence,--in her light -scorn of stupid ceremonies,--in the frank geniality of her disposition -(when she can manage to keep it unspoilt by contact with the reserved -hypocrisy of the “Smart Set,”) and the delightful spontaneity of her -thoughts which find such ready expression in equally spontaneous -speech. Altogether the American Woman is a valuable importation into -Great Britain. She is an incarnation of the Present, and an embryo -of the Future. She is a gifted daughter of the British race, holding -within her bright, vital, ambitious identity many of the greater -possibilities of Britain. And to the question “Why is she popular?” the -answer is simple--“Because she deserves to be!” - - - - -THE AMERICAN BOUNDER - - -Everything in America is colossal, stupendous and pre-eminent,--it -follows, therefore, that the American “bounder” is the most colossal, -stupendous and pre-eminent bounder in existence. None of his tribe can -match him in “brass,”--none of his European forbears or connections -can equal him in brag. He is an inflated bladder of man, swollen out -well-nigh to bursting with the wind of the Yankee Doodle Eagle’s wing. -His aim in life appears to be to disgrace his country by his manners, -his morals and his conversation. He arrives in Europe with the air -of laying Europe under a personal debt of obligation to Providence -for having kindly permitted him to be born. As befits a son of the -goddess Liberty, he sets his proud foot on the “worn out” soil of the -Old World and prances there, even as the “wild ass” mentioned in Holy -Writ. As a citizen of the greatest Republic over which any starred or -striped flag ever flew, he extends his gracious patronage to tottering -monarchies, and allows it to be understood that he tolerates with an -amused compassion that poor, drivelling, aged and senile institution -known as the Aristocracy. He alludes to “my friend the Duke,” casually, -as one might speak of a blind beggar. He throws in a remark quite -unexpectedly at times concerning “Betty--_you’ve_ heard of her surely? -Countess Betty--the Countess of Hockyfield--oh yes!--you English snobs -rather ‘kotow’ to her, but _I_ call her Betty!--she likes it!” He may -frequently be found in residence on the fourth floor back of a swagger -hotel, occupying a “bed-sitting room” littered with guide books, -“yellow” journalism, and dubious French novels, with an impressionist -sketch of the newest Paris “danseuse” in her most suggestive want of -attire set conspicuously forward for inspection. If chance visitors -happen to notice flowers on his table, he at once seethes into a -simmering scum of self-adulation. “Charming, are they not!” he -says--“So sweet! So dear of the Duchess to send them!--she knows how -fond I am of Malmaisons!--did you notice that Malmaison?--the Duchess -gathered it for me herself--it is from one of the Sandringham stock. -Of course you know the carnation houses at Sandringham? Alex. delights -in Malmaisons!” And when guileless strangers gasp and blink as they -realize that it is England’s gracious Queen-Consort who is being spoken -of as “Alex.” in the company of the soiled literature and the portrait -of the Paris “danseuse” the Bounder is delighted. He feels he has made -a point. He chortles cheerfully on--“What a rotten old country this -is after all, eh? Just crawling alive with snobs! Everyone’s on their -knees to a title, and the sight of a lord seems to give the average -Britisher a fit. Now look at me! I don’t care a cent about your dukes -and earls. Why should I? I’m always with ’em--fact is, they can’t bear -to have me out of their sight! Lady Belinda Boomall--second daughter -of the Duke of Borrowdom,--she’s just mad on me! She thinks I’ve -got money, and I let her! It’s real fun! And as to the Marchioness -Golfhouse--she’s up to some games _I_ tell you! _She_ knows a thing or -two! My word!” Here he gives vent to a sound suggestive of something -between a sneeze and a snigger which is his own particular way of -rendering the laugh satirical. “I always get on with your blue-blooded -girls!”--he proceeds; “I guess they’re pretty tired of their own men -hulking round! They take to an Am_urr_ican as ducks take to water. -See all those cards?”--pointing in a casual way to half a dozen or -so of pasteboard slips littered on the mantelshelf, among which -the discerning observer might certainly see one or two tradesmen’s -advertisements--“They just shower ’em on me! I’ve got an ‘at home’ -to-night and a ball afterwards--to-morrow I breakfast at Marlborough -House;--then lunch with Lady Adelaide Sparkler,--she drives me in the -Park afterwards--and in the evening I dine at St. James’ Palace and go -to the Opera with the Rothschilds. It’s always like that with me! I -never have a moment to myself. All these people want me. Lady Adelaide -Sparkler declares she cannot possibly do without me! I ought to have -been at Stafford House this afternoon--great show on there--but I can’t -be bothered!--the Duchess is just too trying for words sometimes! Of -course it’s all a question of connection;--they know who I am and all -about my ancestors, and that makes ’em so anxious to have me. You know -who my ancestors were?” - -Now when the American Bounder puts this question, he ought to receive a -blunt answer. Perhaps if Britishers were as rude as they are sometimes -reported to be, one of them would give such an answer straight. He -would say “No, I do not; but I expect you sprang from a convict root of -humanity thrown out as bad rubbish from an over-populated prison and -cast by chance into American soil beside an equally rank native Indian -weed--and that in your present bad form and general condition, you are -the expressive result of that disastrous combination.” But, as a rule, -even the most truculent Britisher’s natural pluck is so paralysed by -the American Bounder’s amazing capacity for lying, that in nine cases -out of ten, he merely murmurs an inarticulate negative. Whereat the -Bounder at once proceeds to enlighten him--“I am the direct descendant -of the Scroobys of Scrooby in Yorkshire,”--he resumes--“_My_ name’s -not Scrooby--no!--but that has nothing to do with it. The families -got mixed. Scrooby of Scrooby went over to Holland in 1607 and joined -the Pilgrim Fathers. He was quite a boy, but Elder Brewster took care -of him! He held the Bible when Brewster first fell upon his knees -and thanked God. So you see I really come from Yorkshire. Real old -Yorkshire ham ‘cured’ into an Am_urr_ican!” - -After this, there is nothing more to be said. Questions of course might -be asked as to how the “Yorkshire ham” not being “Scrooby” now, ever -started from “Scrooby” in the past, only it is not worth while. It -never is worth while to try and certify an American Bounder’s claim to -being sprung from a dead and gone family of English gentlemen. Regard -for the dead and gone English gentlemen should save them from this -affront to their honourable dust. - -Perhaps the most amazing thing about the American Bounder after his -free and easy familiarities with “Bertie” (the King) “Alex.” (the -Queen) and “Georgie and May” (the Prince and Princess of Wales) is -his overweening, self-satisfied, complacent and arrogant ignorance. -The most blatant little local tradesman who, through well-meaning -Parliamentary short-sightedness in educational schemes, becomes -a “governor” of a Technical School in the provinces, is never so -blatantly ignorant as he. He talks of everything and knows nothing. -He assumes to have the last word in science, art and literature. He -will tell you he is “great chums” with Marconi and Edison, and that -these famous discoverers and inventors always lay their heads on his -bosom and tell him their dearest confidences. He knows just what is -going to be done by everybody with everything. He is friends with the -Drama too. Beerbohm Tree rings him up on the telephone at all manner -of strange hours, thirsting for his advice on certain “scenes” and -“effects.” He is--to use his own words--“doing a great thing” for -Tree! Sarah Bernhardt is his very dearest of dear ones! She has fallen -into his arms, coming off the stage at the side wings, exhausted, and -exclaiming--“Toi, mon cher! Enfin! Maintenant, je respire!” Madame -Réjane is always at home to him. In fact all Paris hails him with a joy -too deep for tears. He would not be a true “Am_urr_ican” if _he_ did -not love Paris, and if Paris did not love _him_. - -But though he is completely “at one,” according to his own statement, -with most of the celebrated personages of the day, if not all, he -cannot tell you the most commonly known facts about them to save his -life. And though--again according to his own statement--he has read -every book ever published, visited every picture gallery, “salon” -and theatre in Europe, he cannot pronounce the name of one single -foreign author or artist correctly. His English is bad enough, but -his French is worse. He seldom makes excursions into the Italian -language--“Igh--talian” as he calls it, but it is quite enough for -the merest beginner in the Tuscan tongue to hear him say “gondòla” -to take the measure of his capacity. “Gòndola” is a word so easily -learned and so often used in Italian, that one might think any -child could master its pronunciation from twice hearing it--but the -American Bounder makes the whole tour of Italy without losing a scrap -of his own special nasal lingo, and returns in triumph to talk of -the “gondòla” and the “bella ràgg-azza” (instead of ragàzza) till -one’s ears almost ache with the hideous infliction of his abominable -accent. In Switzerland he is always alluding to “Mount Blank”--the -“Can_tone_ Gry-son”--“N_oo_-shatell”--and the “Mountain Vert”--and -in Great Britain he has been heard to speak of Lo_che_ Kay-trine and -Ben _Nee_vis, as well as of Con_iss_ton and Cornwàll. But it is quite -“correct” he will tell you--it is only the English people who do not -know how to talk English. The actual, true, pure pronunciation of the -English language went over to the States with the Scroobys of Scrooby, -and he their descendant and Bounder, has preserved it intact. Even -Shakespeare’s river Avon becomes metamorphosed under the roll of his -atrocious tongue. He will not pronounce it with the English A, as in -the word “b_a_y,”--he calls it A’von, as the “a” is sounded in the word -_av_arice--so that the soft poetic name of the classic stream appears -to have been bitten off by him and swallowed like a pop-corn. But it -would be of no use to argue with him on this or on any other point, -because he is always right. No real American Bounder was ever wrong. - -One cannot but observe what a close acquaintance the Bounder has with -Debrett and various “County” Directories. His study of these volumes -is almost as profound as that of Mr. Balfour must have been when -writing “The Foundations of Belief.” Between Debrett and Baedeker he -manages to elicit a certain useful stock of surface information which -he imparts in a kind of cheap toy-cracker fashion to various persons, -who, politely listening, wonder why he appears to think that they -are not aware of facts familiar to them from their childhood. His -modes of appearing “to know, you know!” are exceedingly simple. For -example, suppose him to be asked to join a “house-party” in Suffolk. He -straightway studies the “County Directory” of that quarter of England, -and looks up the principal persons mentioned therein in various other -books of handy reference. When, in due course, he arrives at the -house to which he has been invited, he manages to faintly surprise -uninitiated persons by his (apparently) familiar acquaintance with -the pedigree and history of this or that “county” magnate, and his -(apparently) intimate knowledge of such and such celebrated paintings -and “objets d’art” as adorn the various historical mansions in the -district--knowledge for which he is merely indebted to Baedeker. He -is as loquacious as a village washerwoman. He will relate any number -of scandalous stories in connection with the several families of -whose ways and doings he pretends to have such close and particular -information--and should any listener interrupt him with a mild “Pardon -me!--but, having resided in this neighbourhood all my life I venture -to think you must be mistaken”;--he merely smiles blandly at such a -display of “native” ignorance. “Lived here all your life and not know -that!” he exclaims--“My word! It takes an Am_urr_ican to teach you -what’s going on in your own country!” - -Offensive as is this more or less ordinary type of American Bounder -who makes his “home in Yew-rope” on fourth floors of fashionable -hotels, a still worse and more offensive specimen is found in the -Starred-and-Striped Bounding Millionaire. This individual--who -has frequently attained to a plethora of cash through one of two -reprehensible ways--either by “sweating” labour, or by fooling -shareholders in “trust” companies,--comes to Great Britain with -the fixed impression that everything in the “darned old place” -can be bought for money. Unfortunately he is often right. The -British--originally and by nature proud, reserved, and almost savagely -tenacious of their freedom and independence--have been bitten by -the Transatlantic madness of mere Greed, and their blood has been -temporarily poisoned by infection. But one may hope and believe that it -is only a passing malady, and that the old healthy life will re-invest -the veins of the nation all the more strongly for partial sickness and -relapse. In the meantime it occasionally happens that the “free” Briton -bows his head like a whipped mongrel cur to the bulging Bank-Account of -the American Millionaire-Bounder. And the American Millionaire-Bounder -plants his flat foot on the so foolishly bent pate and walks over it -with a commercial chuckle. “You talk of your ‘Noblesse oblige,’ your -honour, your old historic tradition and aristocratic Order!” he says, -sneeringly--“Why there isn’t a man alive in Britain that I couldn’t -buy, principles and all, for fifty thousand pounds!” - -This kind of vaunt at Britain’s expense is common to the American -Millionaire-Bounder--and whether it arises out of his conscious -experience of the British, or his braggart conceit, must be left to -others to query or determine. Certain it is that he _does_ buy a good -deal, and that the owners of such things as he wants seem always ready -to sell. Famous estates are knocked down to him--manuscripts and -pictures which should be the preciously guarded property of the nation, -are easily purchased by him,--and, laughing in his sleeve at the -purblind apathy of the British Government, which calmly looks on while -he pockets such relics of national greatness as unborn generations -will vainly and indignantly ask for,--he congratulates himself on -possessing, as he says, “the only few things the old country has got -left worth having.” One can but look gloomily through the “Calendar of -Shakespearean Rarities,” collected by Halliwell Phillips, which were -offered to the wealthy city of Birmingham for £7,000, and reflect that -this same wealthy city disgraced itself by refusing to purchase the -collection and by allowing everything to be bought and carried away -from England by “an American” in 1897. We do not say this American was -a “Bounder”--nevertheless, if he had been a real lover of Shakespeare’s -memory, rather than of himself, he would have bought these relics for -Shakespeare’s native country and presented them for Shakespeare’s sake -to Shakespeare’s native people, who are not, as a People, to blame -for the parsimony of their Governments. They pay taxes enough in all -conscience, and at least they deserve that what few relics remain of -their Greatest Man should be saved and ensured to them. - -But perhaps the American Millionaire-Bounder is at his best when he has -bought an English newspaper and is running it in London. Then he feels -as if he were running the Imperial Government itself--nay, almost the -Monarchy. He imagines that he has his finger on the very pulse of Time. -He hugs himself in the consciousness that the British people,--that -large majority of them who are not behind the scenes--buy his paper, -believing it to be a British paper, not a journal of “Am_urr_ican” -opinion, that is, opinion as ordered and paid for by one “Am_urr_ican.” -He knows pretty well in his own mind that if they understood that such -was the actual arrangement, they would save their pence. Unfortunately -the great drawback of the “man in the street” who buys newspapers, is -that he has no time to enquire as to the way in which the journals he -confides in are “run.” If he knew that the particular view taken of the -political situation in a certain journal, was merely the political view -_ordered_ to be taken by one “Am_urr_ican”--naturally he would not pin -his simple faith upon it. Perhaps the Man in the Street will some day -wake up to the realization that in many cases, (though not all) with -respect to journalism, he only exists to be “gulled.” - -Like all good and bad things, the American Bounder, whether millionaire -or only shabby-genteel, has a certain height beyond which he can -no further go--a point where he culminates in a blaze of ultra -Bounder-ism. This brilliant apotheosis is triumphantly reached in the -Female of his species. The American Female Bounder is the quintessence -of vulgarity, and in every way makes herself so objectionable even -to her own people and country that Americans themselves view her -departure for “Yew-rope” with perfect equanimity, and hope she will -never come back. Once in what she calls “the old country” she talks -all day long through her quivering nose of “Lady This” and “Countess -That.” One of this class I recall now as I write, who spoke openly of -a “Mrs. Countess So-and-So”--and utterly declined to be instructed in -any other form of address. She was not content to trace her lineage -to such humble folk as the “Scroobys of Scrooby”--no indeed, not she! -Kings were _her_ ancestors; her “family tree” sprouted from Richard the -Lion-Heart, according to her own bombastic assertion, and she, with her -loud twanging voice, odious manners and insufferable impertinence, was -“genuine stock” of royallest origin. Of course it is quite possible -that, as in horticulture, a once nobly cultivated human plant may, -if left without wholesome or fostering influences, degenerate into a -weed--but that so rank a weed as the American Female Bounder should -be the dire result of the Conqueror’s blood is open to honest doubt. -She generally has a “mission” to reform something or somebody,--she is -very often a “Christian science” woman, or a theosophist. Sometimes -she “takes up” Art as though it were a dustpan, and sweeps into it -under her “patronage” certain dusty and doubtful literary and musical -aspirants who want a “hearing” for their efforts. Fortunately for the -world, a “hearing” under the gracious auspices of the American Female -Bounder means a silence everywhere else. She is fond of “frocks and -frills”--and wears an enormous quantity of jewels, “stones” as she -calls them. She “pushes” herself in every possible social direction, -and wherever she sees she is not wanted, there, more particularly than -elsewhere, she contrives to force an entry. She embraces the game of -“Bridge” with passionate eagerness because she sees that by keeping -open house, with card-tables always ready, she can attract the loafing -“great ones of the earth,” and possibly persuade a “Mrs. Countess” to -befriend her. If she is fairly wealthy, she can generally manage to -do this. All Mrs. Countesses have not “that repose which stamps the -caste of Vere de Vere.” Some of them find the American Female Bounder -useful--and precisely in the manner she offers herself, even so they -take her. And thus it often happens that one frequently meets her -where she has no business to be. One is not surprised to find her at -Court, or in the Royal enclosure at Ascot, because so many of her -British sisters in the Bounder line are in these places, ready to give -her a helping hand--but one _is_ occasionally startled and in a manner -sorry to discover her making herself at home among certain “exclusive” -people who are chiefly distinguished for their good-breeding, culture -and refinement. In one thing, however, we can take much comfort, and -this is, that whatever the American Bounder, Male or Female, may -purchase or otherwise insidiously obtain in the Old World, neither -he nor she can ever secure respect. Driven to bay as the Britisher -may be by consummate and pertinacious lying, he can and does withhold -from the liars his honest esteem. He may sell a valuable manuscript or -picture to a “bounding” Yankee, out of sheer necessitous circumstance, -but he will never be “friends” with the purchaser. He will call him -“bounder” to the crack of doom, and Doomsday itself will not alter that -impression of him. - -It may be, and it is I think, taken for granted that America itself -is very glad to get rid of its “bounders.” It regards them with as -much shame and distress as we feel when we see certain specimens of -“travelling English” disporting themselves upon the Continent in the -’Arry and Jemima way. We always fervently hope that our Continental -neighbours will not take these extraordinary roughs as bona-fide -examples of the British people, and in the same way America trusts all -the nations of Europe not to accept their “Bounders” as examples of -the real pith and power of the United States. The American People are -too great, too broad-minded, sane, and thorough, not to wish to shake -off these _aphides_ on their rose of life. They watch them “clearing -out” for “Yew-rope” with perfect satisfaction. Said a charming American -woman to me the other day--“What a pity it is that English people -_will_ keep on receiving Americans here who would not be tolerated for -a moment in New York or Boston society! It surprises us very greatly. -Sometimes indeed we cannot help laughing to see the names of women -figuring among your ‘haute noblesse’ who would never get inside a -decent house anywhere in the States. But more often we are sorry that -your social ‘leaders’ are so easily taken in!” - -Here indeed is the sum total of the matter. If Great Britain--and other -countries in Europe--but Great Britain especially--did not “receive” -and encourage the American Bounder and Bounderess, these objectionable -creatures would never be known or heard of. Therefore it is our fault -that they exist. Were it not for our short-sighted foolishness, and -our proneness to believe that every “Am_urr_ican” with money must -be worth knowing, we should be better able to sort the sheep from -the goats. We should add to the pleasures of our social life and -intercourse an agreeable knowledge of the real American ladies, the -real American gentlemen; and though these are seldom seen over here, -for the very good reason that they are valued and wanted in their own -country, they could at least be certain, when they did come, of being -received at their proper valuation, and not set to herd with the -“Bounders” of their country, whom their country rejects. For one may -presume that there is some cogent reason why an American citizen of -the Greatest Republic in the world, should elect to desert his native -land and “settle down” under “rotten old monarchies.” People do not -leave the home of their birth for ever unless they find it impossible -to live there for causes best known to themselves. The poor are often -compelled to emigrate, we know, in the hope to find employment and -food in other countries--but when the rich “slope off” from the very -centres where they have made their capital, one may be permitted to -doubt the purity of their intentions. Anyway, surrounded as we are -to-day socially by American Bounders of every description,--American -Bounders who think themselves as good as any one else “and a darned -sight better”--American Bounders who declare that they are the “real -old British race renewed,”--American Bounders who “run” British -journals of “literary opinion” and so forth,--American Bounders who -thrust themselves into the company of unhappy kings and queens,--those -crowned slaves who in such earthquaking days as these have to be more -than common careful “not to offend,”--American Bounders who themselves -claim kinship with the blood royal,--the one straight and simple fact -remains--namely, that all the best Americans still live in America! - - - - -COWARD ADAM - - -Among the numerous fascinating and delightful members of the male -sex whom I have the honour to count as friends, there is one very -handsome and devotedly attentive gentleman of four years old, who is -particularly fond of reciting to me in private the following striking -poem on the Fall of Man. - - - When Mister Sarpint did deceive - Poor little silly Missis Eve, - The Lord he spied an apple gone - From off the branch it hanged upon; - That apple was a heavy loss, - And so the Lord got very cross, - He searched the garden through and through, - And called “Hi Adam! where are you?” - But Mister Adam, he, - Clum up a tree. - - -There is something in this graphic narrative which appears to tickle my -young cavalier’s fancy immensely, for whenever he says “Mister Adam, -he, Clum up a tree,” he opens his big blue eyes very widely, claps his -tiny hands very loudly, and gives vent to ecstatic shrieks of laughter. -It is quite evident that he entirely understands and appreciates Adam’s -position. Young as he is, he has the instinctive knowledge within him -that when the time comes, he will likewise adopt the “Clum up a tree” -policy. For Adam is the same Adam still, and nothing will ever change -him. And when things are getting rather “mixed” in his career, and the -forbidden fruit he has so readily devoured turns out to be rather more -sour and tasteless than he had anticipated,--when his Garden of Eden -is being searched through and through for the causes of the folly and -disobedience which have devastated its original fairness, the same old -story may be said of him--“Mister Adam, he, Clum up a tree.” Perhaps -if he only climbed a tree one might excuse him,--but unfortunately he -talks while climbing,--talks as though he were an old babbling grandam -instead of a lord of creation,--and grandam-like puts the blame on -somebody else. He says--“The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, -she gave me of the tree and I did eat.” Coward Adam! Observe how he -at once transfers the fault of his own lack of will and purpose to -the weaker, more credulous, more loving and trusting partner;--how he -leaves her defenceless to brave the wrath which he himself dreads,--and -how he never for one half second dreams of admitting himself to be the -least in the wrong! But there is always one great satisfaction to be -derived from the perusal of the strange old Eden story, and this is -that “Mister Sarpint” was of the male gender. Scripture leaves no room -for doubt on this point. It says: “Now the serpent was more subtil -than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And _he_ said -unto the woman----” So that a “he” tempted a woman, before “she” ever -tempted a “he.” Women should be duly thankful for the sex of “Mister -Sarpint,” and should also bear in mind that this particular “he” was -“more subtil than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made.” -On many an occasion it will be found a salutary and useful fact to -remember. - -Once upon a time, so we are told, there was an Age of Chivalry. The -word “chivalry” is stated in the dictionary to be derived from the -French “cheval” a horse, and “chivalrous” men were, in the literal -meaning of the term, merely men who rode about on horseback. But -chivalry has somehow come to imply respect, devotion, and reverence -for women. The “chivalrous” knight is supposed to have gone all over -the world, wearing the glove or the ribbon of his “ladye faire,” in -his helmet, and challenging to single combat every other knight that -dared to question the supremacy of her beauty and virtue. I confess -at once that I do not believe in him. If he ever existed he must have -been a most unnatural and abnormal product of humanity, as unlike his -first progenitor Adam as he could well be. For even in the “Round -Table” romances one finds an entire lack of chivalry in the so-called -chivalrous knights of King Arthur. Their moral principles left much to -be desired, and the conduct of Sir Meliagraunce who betrayed the loves -of Lancelot and the Queen was merely that of a common sneak. Coward -Adam spoke in him, as in many of the Arthurian heroes,--and that they -were more “chivalrous” than the modern male gossips who jeer away a -woman’s name and honour in their smoking and gaming rooms, is a legend -which like that of the Tree of Good and Evil itself, requires stronger -confirmation than history as yet witnesseth. - -Coward Adam, taking him as he appears in the present day, has lately -shown himself off in various odd phases and lamentable positions. -During the South African War he came out strong in some of our -generals, who put the blame of certain military mishaps on one another -like quarrelsome children, thereby losing dignity and offering a most -humiliating spectacle to the amazed British public. Coward Adam’s -policy, after making a blunder, is to adopt any lie, rather than say -frankly and boldly--“I did it!” He will eat dirt by the bushel in -preference to the nobler starvation act of singly facing his foes. He -is just now exhibiting himself to his usual advantage in the British -Parliament, while the nation looks on, waiting for the inevitable -finale of his various hesitations and inefficiencies--the “Mister -Adam, he, Clum up a tree.” For in most matters of social, political, -and moral progress, the great difficulty is to obtain an upright, -downright, honest and impartial opinion from any leading public man. -The nation may be drifting devilwards, but statesmen are judged to -be more statesmanlike, if they hold their tongues and watch it go. -They must not speak the truth. It would offend so many people. It -would upset so many interests. It would create a panic on the Stock -Exchange. It would throw Wall Street into hysterics. The world’s vast -public, composed of thinking, working, and more or less educated -and intelligent people, may and do crave for a bold utterance, a -truth openly enunciated and bravely maintained, but to the weavers -of political intrigue and the self-seeking schemers in Governmental -departments, the public is considered merely as a Big Child, to be -soothed with lollipop phrases and tickled by rattle promises. If the -Big Child cries and screams because it is hungry, they chirp to it -about Fair Trade,--if it complains that its ministers of religion -are trying to make it say its prayers backwards, they promise a full -“enquiry into recent abuses in the Church.” But fine words butter no -parsnips. Coward Adam always climbs up a tree as quickly as he can -when instead of fine words, fine deeds are demanded. Physical feats -of skill, physical gymnastics of all kinds he excels in, but a moral -difficulty always places him as it did in the Garden of Eden, in what -he would conventionally term “an awkward position.” - -“Never kiss and tell” is I believe an “unwritten law of chivalry.” -This law, so I understand, Coward Adam does sometimes manage to obey, -albeit reluctantly. Because he would like to tell,--he would very much -like to tell,--if--if the story of the kiss did not involve himself -in the telling! But at this juncture “the unwritten laws of chivalry” -step in and he is saved. And chivalry is the tree up which he climbs, -chattering to himself the usual formula--“The woman whom thou gavest to -be with me,”--etcetera, etcetera. Alas, poor woman! She has heard him -saying this ever since she, in an unselfish desire to share her food -with him, gave him the forbidden apple. No doubt she offered him its -rosiest and ripest side! She always does,--at first. Not afterwards! As -soon as he turns traitor and runs up a tree, she takes to pelting him, -metaphorically speaking, with cocoa-nuts. This is quite natural on her -part. She _had_ thought him a man,--and when he suddenly changes into -a monkey, she doesn’t understand it. To this cause may possibly be -attributed some of the ructions which occasionally jar the harmonious -estate of matrimony. - -Coward Adam does very well in America. He sees his position there -quite plainly. He knows that if he climbs his tree too often, hundreds -of feminine hands will pull him down. So he resigns himself to the -inevitable. He is not slow to repeat the customary whine--“The woman -whom thou gavest me”--but he says it quietly to himself between whiles. -Because he knows that _she_ knows all his share in the mischief! -So he digs and delves, and finds gold and silver and limitless oil -wherewith to turn into millions of dollars for her pleasure; he packs -pork, lays railway tracks, starts companies, organizes “combines”--and -strains every nerve and sinew to “do” every other Adam save himself -in his own particular line of business, so that “the woman” (or may -we say the women?) “whom thou gavest” may be clothed in Paris model -gowns, and wear jewels out-rivalling in size and lustre those of all -the kings and queens that ever made their sad and stately progress -through history. Indeed, Coward Adam, in the position he occupies as a -free citizen of that mighty Republic over which the wild eagle screams -exultingly, looks a little bit like a beaten animal. But he bears his -beating well, and is quite pleasant about it. In regard to “the woman -whom thou gavest me” he is nearer the imaginary code of “chivalry” -than his European brother. If the original Adam had learned the ways -of a modern American gentleman of good education and fine manners, -one can quite imagine him saying--“The woman whom thou gavest to be -with me generously offered me a share of the apple, and I did eat. But -the Serpent whom thou didst permit to tell lies to my amiable partner -concerning this special kind of fruit, was chiefly to blame.” - -Coward Adam, as he is seen and known among the lower classes, crops up -every day in newspapers, which duly chronicle his various acts, such -as promising marriage to poor working girls and robbing them of all -their little savings, as well as of their good names,--kicking his -wife, starving his children, and spending every penny he earns in the -public-house. But he is just as frequently met with in the houses of -the Upper Ten. He will wear the garb of a lord with ease, and, entering -the house of another lord, will cozen his host’s wife away from loyalty -to her husband in quite the manner “friendly.” He is likewise to be -found occasionally in the walks of literature, and where a woman is -concerned in matters artistic will “down” her if he can. He has always -done his best to hinder woman from receiving any acknowledgment for -superior intellectual ability. Notably one may quote the case of Madame -Curie, the discoverer of radium. Coward Adam says she discovered it by -“a fluke”--that is to say, by chance. Most great discoveries occur, -even to men, in the same way. In the present instance the “chance” -came to a woman. Why should she not therefore have all the honour due -to her?--the same honour precisely as would fall to the lot of a man -in her place? Columns upon columns of praise would be bestowed upon -her were she of Adam’s sex, and all the academies of science would -contend with each other as to which should offer her the best and -most distinctive award. But Coward Adam cannot abide the thought that -“the woman whom thou gavest” should take an occasionally higher rank -than his own among the geniuses of his age. He must have everything -or nothing. He tries to ignore the fact that woman is winning equal -honours with himself in University degrees; he would fain forget that -the two greatest monarchs Great Britain ever had were women--Elizabeth -and Victoria. There is a brave Adam, of course--a civilized creature -who owns and admits the brilliant achievements of woman with pride and -tenderness,--I am only just now speaking of the coward specimen. The -brave Adam does not turn tail or climb trees, and he appears to have -had nothing to do with the Garden of Eden. Very likely he was born -somewhere else. For _he_ says--“The woman whom thou gavest to be with -me is the joy of my life,--the companion of my thoughts. To her my soul -turns,--for her my heart beats--in her I rejoice,--her triumphs are my -pride,--her success is my delight! If danger threatens her, I will be -her defender, not her accuser,--should she be blamed for aught, I will -take her fault upon myself, and will serve as a strong shield between -her and calumny. This is the least I can do to prove my love towards -her--for without her I should be the worst of creatures,--a lonely soul -in an empty world!” - -So says, or may say brave Adam! But his coward brother does not -understand such high-flown sentiments. Coward Adam’s main object in -life is to “avoid a scene” with either the Lord Almighty, Mister -Sarpint or Missis Eve. He likes to wriggle out of difficulties, -both public and private, in a quiet way. He does not understand the -“methods” of plain blunt people who tell him frankly what a sneak he -is. He is very ubiquitous, and much more frequently to be met with than -his braver twin. And if he should chance to read what I have here set -down concerning him, he will probably say as usual: “The woman whom -thou gavest” in various forms of anonymous vituperation. But his active -policy will remain the same as it ever was--“Mister Adam, he, Clum up a -tree!” - - - - -ACCURSËD EVE - - -When the masculine Serpent, “who was more subtil than any beast of the -field which the Lord had made,” tempted the mother of mankind to eat -of the forbidden fruit, the Voice in the Garden said to her--“I will -greatly multiply thy sorrow!” It can scarcely be denied that this curse -has been fulfilled. So manifold and incessant have been the sorrows -of Woman since the legendary account of the creation of the world, -that one cannot help thinking the whole business somewhat unfair, -if,--for merely being “beguiled” by a beast of the field who was known -to be more “subtil” than any other, and afterwards being “given away” -by Coward Adam,--Eve and all the descendants of her sex should be -compelled to suffer centuries of torture. The injustice is manifestly -cruel and arbitrary,--yet it would seem to have followed poor Accursëd -Eve from then till now. “I will greatly multiply thy sorrow!” And -sorrow has been multiplied to such an aggravated and barbarous extent -upon her unfortunate head, that in the Jewish ritual to this very -day there is a part of the service wherein the men, standing in the -presence of women, individually say: “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, -King of the universe, who hast not made me a woman!” thus deliberately -insulting, in their very house of worship, the sex of their mothers! - -But from the earliest times, if we are to accept historical testimony, -the Jews of the ancient world appear to have treated women in the -majority as “Something worser than their dog, a little lower than -their horse.” Save and except those rare cases where the Jewish woman -suddenly found out her latent powers and employed them to advantage, -the Jewish man made her fetch and carry for him like a veritable beast -of burden. He yoked her to his plough with oxen,--he sold and exchanged -her with his friends as freely as any other article of commerce,--his -“base uses” of her were various, and seldom to his credit,--while, such -as they were, they only lasted so long as they satisfied his immediate -humour. When done with, she was “cast out.” The kind of “casting out” -to which she was subjected is not always explained. But it may be taken -for granted that in many instances she was either killed immediately, -or turned adrift to die of starvation and weariness. The Jews in their -Biblical days were evidently not much affected by her griefs. They were -God’s “chosen” people,--and the fact that women were the mothers of the -whole “chosen” race, appeared to call for no claim on their chivalrous -tenderness or consideration. - -Looking back through the vista of time to that fabled Eden, when -she listened to the tempting of the “subtil” one, the wrongs and -injustices endured by Accursëd Eve at the hand of Coward Adam make up -a calendar of appalling, almost superhuman crime. Man has taken the -full licence allowed him by the old Genesis story (which, by the way, -was evidently invented by man himself for his own convenience). “Thy -desire shall be to thy husband and he shall rule over thee.” And among -all tribes, and in all nations he _has_ ruled with a rod of iron! The -Christian dispensation has interfered somewhat with his former reign of -tyranny, for with the birth of Christ came, to a certain extent, the -idealization and beatification of womanhood. The Greeks and Romans, -however, had a latent glimmering idea of what Woman in all her glory -should be, and of what she might possibly attain to in the future,--for -all their grandest symbols of life, such as Truth, Beauty, Justice, -Fortune, Fame, Wisdom, are always represented by their sculptors -clothed in the female form divine. It is a curious fact, that in those -early periods of civilization, when Literature and Art were just -dawning upon the world, man, though aggregating to his own Ego nearly -everything in the universe, paused before representing himself as a -figure of Justice, Mercy or Wisdom. He evidently realized his unfitness -to stand, even in marble, before the world as a symbol of moral virtue. -He therefore, with a grace which well became him in those “pagan” days, -bent the knee to all noble attributes of humanity as represented in -Woman. Her fair face, her beauteous figure, greeted him in all his -temples of worship;--as Venus and Diana she smiled upon him; as the -goddess of Fortune or Chance, she accepted his votive wreaths,--as -Fame or Victory, she gave him blessing whenever he went to war, or -returned in triumph from the field;--and all this was but the embryo -or shadowing-forth of woman’s higher future and better possibilities, -when the days of her long and cruel probation should be accomplished, -and her “curse” in part be lifted. There are signs and tokens that -this happy end is in sight. Accursëd Eve is beginning to have a good -time. And the only fear now is, lest she should overstep the mark of -her well-deserved liberty and run headlong into licence. For Eve,--with -or without curse,--is naturally impulsive and credulous; and being too -often forgetful of the little incident which occurred to her in the -matter of the Tree of Good and Evil, is still far too prone to listen -to the beguiling of “subtil” personages worse “than any beast of the -field which the Lord hath made.” - -Accursëd Eve, having broken several of her old-time fetters, and -beginning to feel her feet as well as her wings, just now wants a -word in politics. As one of her cursëd daughters, I confess I wonder -that she should wish to put herself to so much unnecessary trouble, -seeing that she has the whole game in her hands. Politics are generally -hustled along by Coward Adam,--unless, by rarest chance, Brave Adam, -his twin brother, suddenly steps forth unexpectedly, when there ensues -what is called a “collapse of the Government.” In any question, small -or great, Accursëd Eve has only to offer Coward Adam the apple, and he -will eat it. Which metaphor implies that even in politics, if she only -moves him round gradually to her own views in that essentially womanly -way which, while persuading, seems not to persuade, he is bound to -yield. Personally speaking, I do not know any man who is not absolutely -under the thumb of at least one woman. And I will not believe that -there is any woman so feeble, so stupid, so lost to the power and charm -of her own individuality, as not to be able to influence quite half -a dozen men. This being the case, what does Accursëd Eve want with a -vote? If she is so unhappy, so ugly, so repulsive, so deformed in mind -and manners as to have no influence at all on any creature of the male -sex whatever, neither father, nor brother, nor uncle, nor cousin, nor -lover, nor husband, nor friend,--would the opinion of such an one be of -any consequence, or her vote of any value? I assert nothing,--I only -ask the question. - -Speaking personally as a woman, I have no politics, and want none. I -only want the British Empire to be first and foremost in everything, -and I tender my sincerest homage to all the men of every party who will -honestly work towards that end. These being my sentiments, I deprecate -any strong separate parliamentary attitude on the part of Accursëd Eve. -I say that she has much better, wider work to do than take part in -tow-rows with the rather undignified personages who often make somewhat -of a bear-garden of the British House of Commons. That she would prove -a good M.P. were she a man, I am quite sure; but as a woman I know she -“goes one better,” in becoming the wife of an M.P. - -Accursëd Eve! Mother of the world! What higher thing does she seek? -Mother of Christianity itself, she stands before us, a figure symbolic -of all good, her Holy Child in her arms, her sweet, musing, prayerful -face bending over it in gravely tender devotion. From her soft breast -humanity springs renewed,--she represents the youth, the hope, the -love of all mankind. Wronged as she has been, and as she still is, -her patience never fails. Deceived, she “mends her broken shell with -pearl,” and still trusts on. Her sweet credulousness is the same as -ever it was;--the “subtil” one can always over-reach her through her -too ready confidence in the idea that “all things work together for -good.” Her “curse” is the crime of loving too well,--believing too -much. Should a “subtil” one say he loves her, she honestly thinks he -does. When he turns out, as often happens, to be looking after her -money rather than herself, she can scarcely force her mind to realize -that he is not so much hero as cad. When she has to earn her own living -in any of the artistic professions, she will frequently tell all her -plans, hopes and ambitions to “subtil” ones with the most engaging -frankness. The “subtil” ones naturally take every advantage of her, and -some of them put a stopgap on her efforts if they can. - -How many times men have tried to steal away the honour of a woman’s -name and fame in literature need not here be chronicled. Of how many -books, bearing a woman’s name on the title-page it is said--“Her -husband helped her,”--or “She got Mr. So-and-So to write the -descriptive part!” “George Eliot” has often been accused of being -assisted in her novels by Mr. Lewes. A little incident,--touching -enough to my mind,--is related in the memoirs of Charlotte Brontë. -After her marriage, and when she was expecting the birth of her -child, she was reading some of the first chapters of an intended new -novel to her husband,--who, as he listened, said in that peculiarly -encouraging way which is common to men who have gifted women to deal -with--“You seem to be repeating yourself. You must take care not to -repeat yourself.” Poor little soul! She never “repeated” herself,--she -just died. No one can tell how her husband’s thoughtless phrase may -have teazed or perplexed her sensitive mind in a critical condition of -health, and helped to hasten the fatal end. - -Edward Fitzgerald’s celebrity as a scholar is not, and never will be -wide enough to blot out from remembrance his brutal phrase on hearing -of the death of Elizabeth Barrett Browning-- - -“Mrs. Browning is dead. Thank God we shall have no more Aurora Leighs!” - -While, far more creditable to Algernon Charles Swinburne than his own -praise of himself now unfortunately affixed to the newly collected -edition of his works, is the praise he bestows on this noble -woman-genius in his preface to her great poem. I quote one line of it -here-- - -“No English contemporary poet by profession has left us work so full of -living fire.” - -For once, and in this particular instance, Accursëd Eve in literature -has, in such a verdict, won her merited literary honours. - -But as a rule honours are withheld from her, and the laurel is filched -from her brows by Coward Adam ere she has time to wear it. One flagrant -case is well known, of a man who having lived entirely on a woman’s -literary earnings for years, went about in the clothes her pen had -paid for, among the persons to whom, through her influence, he had -been introduced, boasting that he assisted her to write the greater -part of her books. To their shame be it said, a great many people -believed him; and not till he was dead, and the woman went on writing -her books as before, did they even begin to see the wrong they had -done her. They would not have dared to calumniate the false boaster as -they calumniated the innocent hard worker. The boaster was a man,--the -worker was a woman;--therefore the dishonour of passing off literary -work not one’s own, must, so they imagined, naturally belong to -Accursëd Eve,--not to Coward Adam! Of their humiliation when the real -truth was known, history sayeth nothing. - -Yet with all the weight of her curse more or less upon her, and with -all her sorrows, shattered ideals, wrecked hopes, and lost loves, -Accursëd Eve is still the most beautiful, the most perfect figure in -creation. Her failings, her vanities, her weaknesses, her sins, arise -in the first place from love--even if afterwards, through Coward Adam’s -ready encouragement, they degenerate into vice and animalism. Her first -impulse in earliest youth is a desire to please Adam,--the same impulse -precisely which led her to offer him the forbidden apple in the first -days of their mutual acquaintance. She wishes to charm him,--to win his -heart,--to endear herself to him in a thousand tender ways,--to wind -herself irretrievably round his life. If she succeeds in this aim, she -is invariably happy and virtuous. But if she is made to feel that she -cannot hold him on whom her thoughts are centred,--if his professed -love for her only proves weak and false when put to trial,--if he -finds it easy to forget both sentiment and courtesy, and is quick to -add insult to injury, then all the finer and more delicate emotions -of her nature become warped and unstrung,--and though she endures her -suffering because she must, she resents it and takes vengeance when she -can. Of resentfulness against wrong and revenge for injustice, come -what are called “bad women.” Yet I would humbly venture to maintain -that even these “bad” were not bad in the first instance. They were -born in the usual way, with the usual Eve impulse,--the desire to -please, not themselves, but the opposite sex. If their instinctive -efforts have been met with cruelty, oppression, neglect, desertion and -sometimes the most heartless and cowardly betrayal, they can scarcely -be blamed if they play the same tricks on the unloving, disloyal churls -for whom they have perhaps sacrificed the best part of their lives. -For innocent faith and trusting love _are_ the best part of every -woman’s life; and when these are destroyed by the brutalizing touch of -some Coward Adam, the woman may well claim compensation for her soul’s -murder. - -Accursëd Eve! Still she loves,--to find herself fooled and cheated; -still she hopes, even while hope eludes her,--still she waits, for -what she may never win,--still she prays prayers that may never be -answered,--still she bears and rears the men of the future, wondering -perchance whether any of them will ever help to do her justice,--will -ever place her where she should be, as the acknowledged queenly -“help-meet” of her stronger, but less enduring partner! Beautiful, -frail, trusting, loving, Accursëd Eve! She bends beneath the -curse,--but the clouds are lifting!--there is light in the sky of -her future dawn! And it may be that a worse malediction than the one -pronounced in Eden, will fall on those who make her burden of life -heavier to bear! - - - - -“IMAGINARY” LOVE - - My love - Is as the very centre of the earth - Drawing all things to it. - --_Troilus and Cressida._ - - -There is perhaps no emotion more elevating or more deceptive than that -sudden uplifting of the heart and yearning of the senses which may be -called “imaginary” Love. It resembles the stirring of the sap in the -roots of flowers, thrilling the very ground with hints and promises of -spring,--it is the unspeakable outcoming of human emotion and sympathy -too great to be contained within itself,--the tremulous desire,--half -vague and wholly innocent,--of the human soul for its mate. The lower -grades of passion have not as yet ruffled the quivering white wings -of this divinely sweet emotion, and the being who is happy enough to -experience it in all its intensity, is, for the time, the most enviable -on earth. Youth or maiden, whichever it be, the world is a fairyland -for this chosen dreamer. Nothing appears base or mean,--God’s smile -is reflected in every ray of sunshine, and Nature offers no prospect -that is not pleasing. It is the season of glamour and grammarye,--a -look over the distant hills is sufficient to engage the mind of the -dreaming girl with brilliant fancies of gallant knights riding from -far-off countries, with their lady’s colours pinned to their breasts -“to do or die” for the sake of love and glory,--and the young boy, half -in love with a pretty face he has seen on his way home from school or -college, begins to think with all the poets, of eyes blue as skies, -of loves and doves, and hearts and darts, in happy unconsciousness -that his thoughts are not in the least original. Yet with all its -ethereal beauty and gossamer-sense of pleasure, this “imaginary” -love is often the most pathetic experience we have or ever shall -have in life. It is answerable for numberless griefs,--for bitter -disillusions,--occasionally, too, for broken hearts. It glitters -before us, a brilliant chimera, during our very young days,--and on -our entrance into society it vanishes, leaving us to pursue it through -many phases of existence, and always in vain. The poet is perhaps -the happiest of all who join in this persistent chase after the -impossible,--for he frequently continues to imagine “imaginary” love -with ecstasy and fervour to the very end of his days. Next in order -comes the musician, who in the composition of a melancholy nocturne -or tender ballad, or in the still greater work of a romantic opera, -imagines “imaginary” love in strains of perfect sound, which waken -in the hearts of his hearers all the old feverish longings, all the -dear youthful dreams, all the delicious romances which accompanied the -lovely white-winged Sentiment in days past and dead for ever. Strange -to say, it often happens that the musician, while thus appeasing his -own insatiable thirst for “imaginary” love, is frequently aware that -he is arousing it in others; and could he probe to the very fibres of -his thinking soul, he would confess to a certain keen satisfaction in -the fact of his being able to revivify the old restless yearning of a -pain which is sweeter to the lonely soul than pleasure. - -Now this expression of the “lonely soul” is used advisedly, because, -in sad truth, every human soul is lonely. Lonely at birth,--still more -lonely at death. During its progress through life it gathers around -it what it can in the way of crumbs of love, grains of affection, -taking them tenderly and with tears of gratefulness. But it is always -conscious of solitude,--an awful yet Divine solitude over which the -Infinite broods, watchful yet silent. Why it is brought into conscious -being, to live within a material frame and there perform certain duties -and labours, and from thence depart again, it cannot tell. All is a -mystery,--a strange Necessity, in which it cannot truly recognize -its part or place. Yet it is,--and one of the strongest proofs of -its separate identity from the body is this “imaginary” love for -which it yearns, and which it never obtains. “Imaginary” love is not -earthly,--neither is it heavenly,--it is something between both, a -vague and inchoate feeling, which, though incapable of being reduced -to any sort of reason or logic, is the foundation of perhaps all the -greatest art, music and poetry in the world. If we had to do merely -with men as they are, and women as they are, Art would perish utterly -from the face of the earth. It is because we make for ourselves -“ideal” men, “ideal” women, and endow these fair creations with the -sentiment of “imaginary” love, that we still are able to communicate -with the gods. Not yet have we lowered ourselves to the level of the -beasts,--nor shall we do so, though things sometimes seem tending that -way. Realism and Atheism have darkened the world, as they darken it -now, long before the present time, and as defacements on the grandeur -of the Universe they have not been permitted to remain. Nor will they -be permitted now,--the reaction will, and must inevitably set in. The -repulsive materialism of Zola, and others of his school,--the loose -theories of the “smart” set, and the moral degradation of those who -have no greater God than self,--these things are the merest ephemera, -destined to leave no more mark on human history than the trail of a -slug on one leaf of an oak. The Ideal must always be triumphant,--the -soul can only hope to make way by climbing towards it. Thus it is with -“imaginary” Love,--it must hold fast to its ideal, or be content to -perish on the plane of sensual passion, which exhausts itself rapidly, -and once dead, is dead for ever and aye. - -With all its folly, sweetness, piteousness and pathos, “imaginary” love -is the keynote of Art,--its fool-musings take shape in exquisite verse, -in tales of romance and adventure, in pictures that bring the nations -together to stand and marvel, in music that makes the strong man weep. -It is the most supersensual of all delicate sensations,--as fine as a -hair, as easily destroyed as a gnat’s wing!--a rough touch will wound -it,--a coarse word will kill it,--the sneer of the Realist shuts it in -a coffin of lead and sinks it fathoms deep in the waters of despair. -Strange and cruel as the fact may seem, Marriage appears to put an end -to it altogether. - - - Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch’s wife - He would have written sonnets to her all his life? - - -inquires Byron. He certainly would not. The “imaginary” love of -Petrarch was the source of his poetic inspiration; if he had ever -dragged it down to the level of the commonplace Actual, he would have -killed his Muse. In a similar way the love of Dante for Beatrice was -of the “imaginary” quality. Those who read the “Vita Nuova” will -scarcely fail to see how the great poet hugs his love-fancies and -feeds himself with delicious extravagances in the way of idealized -and sublimated soul-passion. He dissects every fine hair of a stray -emotion, and writes a sonnet on every passing heart-beat. Dante’s wife -never became so transfigured in her husband’s love. Why? Alas, who can -say! No reason can be given save that perchance “familiarity breeds -contempt,” and that the Unattainable seems always more beautiful than -the Attained. The delight of possession would appear to be as brief as -the flowering of a rose. Lovers are in haste to wed,--but when the knot -is once irrevocably tied, in nine cases out of ten they wish it could -be untied again. They no longer imagine “imaginary” love! The glamour -is gone. Illusions are all over. The woman is no longer the removed, -the fair, the chaste, the unreachable,--the man ceases to be the proud, -the strong hero endowed with the attributes of the gods. “Imaginary” -love then resolves itself into one of two things,--a firm, every-day, -close and tender _friendship_, or else a sick disappointment, often -ending in utter disgust. But the divine emotion of “imaginary” love -has died,--the Soul is no longer enamoured of its Ideal--and the -delicate psychic passion which inspires the poet, the painter, the -musician, turns at once to fresh objects of admiration and pursuit. For -it is never exhausted,--unlike any purely earthly sense it knows no -satiety. Deceived in one direction, it dies in another. Dissatisfied -with worldly things, it extends its longing heavenwards,--there at -least it shall find what it seeks,--not now, but hereafter! Age does -not blunt this fine emotion, for, as may often be remarked with some -beautiful souls in the decline of bodily life, the resigning of earthly -enjoyments gives them no pain,--and the sweet placidity of expectation, -rather than the dull apathy of regret, is their chief characteristic. -“Imaginary” love still beckons them on;--what has not been found Here -will be found There! - -Happy, and always to be envied, are those who treasure this aerial -sentiment of the spiritual brain! It is the dearest possession of -every true artist. In every thought, in every creative work or plan, -“imaginary” love goes before, pointing out wonders unseen by less -enlightened eyes,--hiding things unsightly, disclosing things lovely, -and making the world fair to the mind in all seasons, whether of storm -or calm. Intensifying every enjoyment, adding a double thrill to the -notes of a sweet song, lending an extra glow to the sunshine, an added -radiance to the witchery of the moonlight, a more varied and exquisite -colouring to the trees and flowers, a charm to every book, a delight -to every new scene, “imaginary” love, a very sprite of enchantment, -helps us to believe persistently in good, when those who love not at -all, neither in reality nor in idealization, are drowning in the black -waters of suicidal despair. - -So it is well for us--those who can--to imagine “imaginary” love! We -shall never grasp the Dream in this world--nevertheless let us fly -after it as though it were a Reality! Its path is one of sweetness more -than pain,--its ways are devious, yet even in sadness still entrancing. -Better than rank, better than wealth is this talisman, which with a -touch brings us into close communication with the Higher worlds. Let -us “imagine” our friends are true; let us “imagine” we are loved for -our own sakes alone,--let us “imagine,” as we welcome our acquaintances -into our homes, that their smiles and greetings are sincere--let us -imagine “imaginary” love as the poets do,--a passion tender, strong -and changeless--and pursue it always, even if the objects, which for a -moment its passing wings have brushed, crumble into dust beneath that -touch of fire! So shall our lives retain the charm of constant Youth -and Hope,--so shall the world seem always beautiful to us,--so shall -the Unimaginable glory of the future Real-in-Love shine nearer every -day in our faithful, fond pursuit of its flying Shadow! - - - - -THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN - - Follow Light and do the Right--for man can half control his doom-- - Till you find the deathless Angel seated in the vacant tomb! - --TENNYSON, _Locksley Hall, Sixty Years After_. - - -Sixty years ago! To us of the present day it seems a very long time--a -kind of “dark ages” period wherein we peer backward dubiously, -wondering what everybody was like then. History, taking us by the hand, -shows us, as in a magic glass, the Coronation of Victoria, one of the -best Queens that the world has ever known, and tells us of the great -men and masterly intellects of that past time, whose immortal works we -still have with us, but whose mere mortal place knows them no more. -Much may be seen in the backward glimpse that some of us may possibly -regret and wish that we possessed again. Men of power and dominance, -for example--great writers, great thinkers, great reformers--surely we -lack these! Surely we need them sorely! But it seems to be a rule of -Nature that if we gain in one direction we must lose in another, and -whatever we have lost in that far-gone period, we have certainly gained -much in the forward direction. One of the most remarkable changes, -perhaps, that has taken place in the passing of the years is the -different position assigned to Woman from that which she occupied when -Dickens and Thackeray wrote their wonderful novels, and when Charlotte -Brontë astonished the world by her woman’s genius, to be followed by -the still more powerful and Scott-like display of brainpower in Mary -Ann Evans (“George Eliot”). At that time men were still chivalrous. -Woman was so rarely brilliant--or, shall we put it, she so rarely had -the chance of asserting the brilliant qualities that are her natural -endowment--that man was content to acknowledge any unusual talent -on her part as an abnormal quality, infrequent enough to be safely -admired. In this spirit, more or less, Sir Walter Scott paid tribute -to Jane Austen, and Thackeray to Charlotte Brontë; but as time has -progressed, and women have arisen one after another in the various -departments of Art and Literature, men have begun to fall back and look -askance, and somewhat threateningly, on the fair trespassers in their -hitherto guarded domains. And the falling back and the looking askance -continue in exact proportion to the swift and steady onward march of -the white-robed Amazons into the Battle of Life. Braced with the golden -shield of Courage, helmeted with Patience, and armed with the sword of -Faith, the women-warriors are taking the field, and are to be seen now -in massed ranks, daily marshalling themselves in more compact order, -firm-footed and fearless, prepared to fight for intellectual freedom, -and die rather than yield. They, too, will earn the right to live; -they, too, will be something greater than the mere vessels of man’s -desire--whether maids, wives, or mothers, they will prove themselves -worthy to be all these three, and more than these, to the very utmost -extent of their moral and intellectual being! - -Perhaps there is nothing more entertaining to the wit of a cultured and -intelligent woman than the recurrent piping wail of man’s assertion -that “woman has no creative power.” Her place, says the didactic -male, is the kitchen, the nursery, and beside the cradle. _Certes_, -she can manage these three departments infinitely better than he can, -especially the cradle part of it, wherein his fractious disposition -is generally well displayed the moment he starts in life. But, as a -matter of fact, there is hardly any vocation in which she cannot, -if she puts her mind to it, distinguish herself just as easily and -successfully as he can if he will only kindly stand out of her way. -He makes himself ludicrous by persistently “crying her down” when all -the world _en masse_ beholds her taking the highest University honours -over his head, and beating him intellectually on his own ground. In -physical force he certainly outstrips her. Item,--he can kick her as -heartily and skilfully as he can kick a football, _vide_ the daily -police reports. Item,--he can eat and drink much more than she can, -because he devotes a great deal more time and attention to the study -of gastronomy. Item,--he can smoke more. Item,--he can indulge freely -in unbridled licentiousness, and amply prove his original savage right -to be considered a polygamous animal, without being banned from “good -society,” or anything being said against his moral character. This -a woman cannot do. If she has many lovers, her conduct is severely -criticized. But if she has none, she is still more bitterly condemned, -especially if she happens to be in the least good-looking. And why? -Simply because her indifference “reflects” on the male sex generally. -The ugliest of masculine creatures experiences a vague sense of offence -when he meets a charming woman who neither seeks his advice nor his -company. And here we have the gist of the whole matter: man is a vain -animal and wants to be admired. Like the peacock, he struts forward -and spreads out his glittering tail. The central feature of the -landscape, as he considers himself, he waits for the pea-hen to worship -him. If, instead of the humble pea-hen, he finds another sort of bird -entirely--with not only a tail as brilliant as his own, but wings which -will carry it over his head, he is mightily incensed, and his shrill -cry of rage echoes through that particular part of the universe where -he is no longer “monarch of all he surveys.” His “other world” must be -pea-hens or none! - -And yet Man’s delightful and utter want of the commonest logic is never -more flagrantly exhibited than in this vital matter of his estimate -of Woman, taking it all round in a broad sense. Daily, hourly, in the -household and in the market-place, he may be heard cheapening her -abilities, sneering at such triumphs as she attains, cracking stale -jests at her “love of gossip,” “love of dress” (for he is seldom -original even in a joke), and her “incessant tongue,” blissfully -ignoring the fact that his own is wagging all the time; and yet no -one can twist him so limply and helplessly round the littlest of her -little fingers as she can. Moreover, throughout all the ages, so far as -the keenest explorer or historical student can discover, his highest -ideals of life have been depicted in the Feminine form. Fortune, Fame, -Justice, the Arts and Sciences, are all represented by female figures -lovingly designed by male hands. Evidently conscious in himself that -a woman’s purity, honesty, fidelity, and courage are nobler types of -these virtues than his own, Man apparently is never weary of idealizing -them as Woman womanly. Thoroughly aware of the supreme sovereignty -Woman can exercise whenever he gives her the chance, he, while -endeavouring to bind and hold her intellectual forces by his various -edicts and customs, takes ever an incongruous satisfaction in doing -her full justice by the magnitude of his feminine ideals. The divine -spirit of Nature itself, called “Egeria,” is always depicted by man as -a woman. Faith, Hope and Charity, are represented as female spirits, -as are the Three Graces. The Muses are women; so are the Fates. Hence, -as all the virtues, morals, arts, and sciences are shown by the -highest masculine skill as wearing woman’s form and possessing woman’s -attributes, it is easy to see that man has always been perfectly aware -in his inward intelligence of Woman’s true worth and right place in -creation, though, by such laws as he has made for his own better -convenience, he has put up whatever barriers he can in the way of the -too swift advancement of so superior and victorious a creature. Now -that she is beginning to take an important share in the world’s work -and progress, he is becoming vaguely alarmed. In each art, in each -profession he sees her gaining step by step to higher intellectual -dominance. He watches her move from plane to plane of study, learning, -as she goes, that the mere animalism of unthinking subservience to his -passions is not her only heritage. And straightway the long-spoilt -child begins to whimper. “A woman has no creative power!” he cries. “No -imagination!--no originality!--no force of character! What she does in -the Arts is so very little----!” - -Stop, oh Man! You have had a very long, long innings, remember! From -the time of Abraham, and ages before that worthy patriarch ever turned -Hagar out into the wilderness, you have been setting Woman alongside -your cattle, and curling your whip with a magnificent carelessness -round both at your pleasure, yea! even offering both with indifferent -readiness for sale and barter. You have enjoyed centuries of liberty; -it is now woman’s turn to taste the sweets of freedom. She does very -little in the Arts, you say? I grant you that in the first of them, -Poetry, she does little indeed. I do not think we shall ever have a -female Shakespeare, for instance. But, at the same time, I equally do -not think we shall ever again have a male one! Yet it is to be admitted -that none of the leading women poets can compare for an instant with -the leading men in that most divine and primæval of Arts. But I should -not like to assert that the great woman-Dante or woman-Shelley may not -yet arise, for it is to be borne in mind that woman’s education and -woman’s chances have only just begun. In Music, again, she is deemed -deficient. Yet we are confronted at the present day by the fact that -many of the most successful and charming of song writers are women. -And the following appears in the Dresden _Neueste Nachricten_ (October -18, 1902):-- - -“Up to the present date we have always entertained the opinion that -the composition of music was a gift denied to the female sex, elegant -trifles (as exceptions) only confirming our doubts. And now an English -lady appears on the scene, amazing the musical world of Dresden. She -was as a young girl already a distinguished artist, a virtuoso on -the piano, and played--as ‘Miss Bright,’--under the direction of Dr. -Wullner, a piano concerto of her own composition, with extraordinary -success. Then marriage separated her from her art for several years. -Now (after the death of her husband), the young widow, Mrs. Knatchbull, -has composed an opera--text, music, and instrumentation all being her -own work--and has brought it with her to Dresden. The music is so -captivating, and above all, holds one so strongly that one exclaims -in astonishment, ‘Can this be the work of a woman?’ It is more than -probable that the opera will be produced at the Dresden Opera House.” - -Here followeth an instructive story:--A recent opera performed with -considerable success at Monte Carlo and other Continental resorts -is the work of a woman, stolen by a man. The facts are well known, -as are the names of the hero and heroine of the sordid tragedy. A -little love-making on the part of the male composer, who could show -nothing of ability save the composition of a few amorous drawing-room -songs--a confiding trust on the part of the woman-genius, whose brain -was full of God-given melody--these were the motives of the drama. -She played the score of her opera through to him--he listened with -admiration--with words of tender flattery, precious to her who was -weak enough to care for such a rascal; and then he took it away to be -“transcribed,” as he said, and set out for the orchestra. He loved -her, so the poor credulous soul thought!--and she trusted him--such -an old story! He copied her opera in his own manuscript--stole it, in -short, and left for the Continent, where he had it produced as his own -composition. Had she complained, the law would have gone against her. -She had no proof save that of her love. Before a grinning, jesting -court of law she would have had to publish the secret of her heart. -People would have shaken their heads and said, “Poor thing! A case -of self-delusion and hysteria!” He himself would have shaken his -dirty pate and said, “Poor soul! Mad--quite mad! Many women have had -their heads turned likewise for love of me!” So it chances that only -those “in the know” are aware of the story, and the man-Fraud is left -unmolested; but it is a curious and suggestive fact that he produces no -more operas. - -There is one thing that women generally, in the struggle for -intellectual free life, should always remember--one that they are -too often apt to forget--namely, that the Laws, as they at present -exist, are made _by_ men, _for_ men. There are no really stringent -laws for the protection of women’s interests except the Married -Woman’s Property Act, which is a great and needful boon. But take the -following instances of the eccentricities of English law, both of -which have come under my own knowledge as having occurred to personal -friends. A certain foreign nobleman residing in England made a will -leaving all his fortune to his mistress. His legitimate children were -advised to dispute the will, as under the law of his native country -he could not dispossess his lawful heirs of their inheritance. He had -not naturalized himself at any time as a British subject, and the -plain proof of this was, that but a year before his death, he had -applied to the Government of his own country for permission to wear -a certain decoration, which permission was accorded him. The nature -of his application proved that he still considered himself a subject -of his own native land. The case came before an English judge, who -had apparently eaten some very indigestible matter for his luncheon. -With an apoplectic countenance and an injured demeanour, the learned -gentleman declined to go into any of the details of the case, and -administered “justice” by deciding the whole thing on “a question of -domicile”--namely, that as the man had lived in England twenty-five -years, he was, naturalized or unnaturalized, a British subject and -could make his will as he liked. The fortune was, therefore, handed -over to his mistress, and the legal wife and legitimately-born children -were left out in the cold! Another case is that of a lady, well-born -and well-educated, who married a man with a fortune of some twenty -thousand a year. After the expiration of about fifteen years, when she -had borne her husband three children, he suddenly took a fantastic -dislike to her, and an equally fantastic liking for a chorus girl. -He promptly sought a divorce. As there was no ground for divorce, -he failed to obtain it. He, therefore, adopted a course of action -emanating entirely from his own brilliant brain. Starting for a cruise -on board his yacht, in company with the bewildering chorus girl, -he left orders with his solicitor to have the whole of his house -dismantled of its furniture and “cleared.” This was promptly done, the -wife and children being left without so much as a bed to lie upon, or a -chair to sit upon. The unfortunate lady told her story to a court, and -applied for “maintenance.” This, of course, the recalcitrant husband -was forced to pay, but the sum was cut down to the smallest possible -amount, under the supervision of the blandly approving court, with the -result that this man’s wife, accustomed from her girlhood to every home -comfort and care, now lives with her children in a condition of genteel -penury more degrading than absolute poverty. _There is no remedy for -these things._ One welcomes heartily the idea of women lawyers, in -the hope that when their keen, quick brains learn to grasp the huge, -unwieldy, and complex machinery of the muddle called Legal Justice, -they may, perhaps, be able to effect some reforms on behalf of their -own sex. As matters at present stand, the unbridled and extravagant -licentiousness of men, and the consequent degradation of women, are -_protected_ by law. Even a fraudulent financial concern is so guarded -by “legal” advice that it would take the lifetime’s earning of an -honest man to bring about any exposure. We want women-lawyers--Portias, -with quick brains, to see the way out of a difficulty into which men -plunge only to flounder more hopelessly. “Can the blind lead the blind? -Shall they not both fall into the ditch?” - -In Medicine, women have made more than a decided mark of triumph. It -is almost impossible to over-estimate the priceless value of the work -done by women doctors and women surgeons in the harems of India and -Turkey, where the selfishness and jealousy of the Eastern sybarite -would give his women over to cruel agonies of disease and death, rather -than suffer them to be so much as looked upon by another of his own -sex. Yet, though perfectly conscious that Woman’s work in this branch -of science is day by day becoming more and more precious to suffering -humanity, we have quite recently been confronted by the spectacle of -a number of men deciding to resign their appointments at a certain -hospital, rather than suffer a woman to be nominated house-surgeon. -Her skill and efficiency were as great as theirs, and she had all the -qualifications necessary for the post; but no! sooner than honour a -woman’s ability, they preferred to resign. Comment on this incident -is needless, but it is one of the straws that show which way the wind -blows. - -Much excellent work is done, and remains yet to be done by women, as -inspectors of schools. They alone are really fitted for the task of -ascertaining the conditions under which children are made to study, -and they are not likely, while examining infant classes, to make such -ponderous statements as that passed by a certain male inspector, who, -according to an amusing story told me by Sir John Gorst, found the -babies (not above five years old) “deplorably deficient in mental -arithmetic!” It takes a man to deplore “lack of mental arithmetic” in -a baby. A woman would never be capable of such weighty stupidity. -Perhaps it will be just as well to glance casually at the state of -things in this country respecting the education of mere infants, as -arranged by certain laws drawn up by men, laws in which women, who are -the mothers of the race, are not allowed to have a voice. - -1. The law _allows_ them to enter at three years old, and _compels_ -them to enter at five years old. - -2. Men inspectors constantly examine children of four years old -in arithmetic, and the “mental arithmetic of the baby class,” is -constantly mentioned in reports. - -3. Needlework is taught before five years old; two to three hours form -the staple instruction. Needlework injures the eyesight at such a -tender age, and two or three hours are a cruelty and a waste of time -for tiny children. - -4. Desks, blackboards, slates and books are everywhere in excess of -“Kindergarten” occupations, and the “development of the spontaneous -activity in the child” is twisted into the development of uniformity. -To differ from the usual is to be naughty; every one must do the same -thing at the same time. Every one must build a like house, a like -table, a like chair; each brick must be on the table at the same minute. - -5. Despite male inspectors, the babies sleep. They fall off their -seats and bump their foreheads against the desks, and their spines are -twisted and crooked as they lie on their arms, heads forward, upon the -hard supports. Curvature must be produced in many cases, solely from -these causes. - -6. To maintain order, corporal punishment is habitual, and “fear” -the chief motive for right-doing. To quote from a letter of Sir John -Gorst’s:-- - -“The reform of this system is not a matter of sentiment. These babies -are the future scholars of our improved schools that the Education Act -is intended to produce, and the future citizens by whom our Imperial -position is to be maintained. If we prematurely addle their intellects -by schooling--for which their tender years are unfit; if we cripple -their bodies by cooping them up in deforming desks; if we destroy their -sight by premature needlework, and confuse their senses by over-study -of subjects which they are too young to understand, we shall neither -have fit scholars for our future schools, nor fit citizens to uphold -the Empire.” - -Starting on these premises it will surely be acknowledged that women -have an indisputable right to be inspectors of schools. They have the -natural instinct to know what is best for the health and well-being -of children, and they are also capable of correctly judging by that -maternal sympathy which is their inherited gift, how a child’s mental -abilities should best be encouraged and trained. - -I have often been asked if I would like to see women in Parliament. -I may say frankly, and at once, that I should detest it. I should -not like to see the sex, pre-eminent for grace and beauty, degraded -by having to witness or to take part in such “scenes” of heated and -undignified disputation as have frequently lowered the prestige of -the House of Commons. On the same lines I may say that I do not care -to see women playing “hockey” or indulging in any purely “tom-boy” -sports and pastimes. They lose “caste” and individuality. One of the -many brilliant and original remarks of mankind concerning the female -sex is that women should be cooks and housekeepers. So they should. No -woman is a good housekeeper unless she understands cooking, nor can she -be a good cook unless she be a good housekeeper. The two things are -inseparable, and combine to make comfort with economy. A woman should -know how to cook and keep house for _herself_, not only for man. Man -says to her: “Be a cook,”--because of all things in the world he loves -a good dinner; loves it better than his wife, inasmuch as he will often -“bully” the wife if the dinner fails. But a woman must also eat, and -she should learn to cook _for her own comfort_, quite apart from his. -In the same way she should study housekeeping. If she lives a single -life, she will find such knowledge eminently useful. But to devote all -her energy and attention to cooking and housekeeping, as most men would -have her do, would be a waste of power and intelligence. As well ask a -great military hero to devote his entire time to the canteen. - -In breaking her rusty fetters, and stepping out into the glorious -liberty of the free, Woman has one great thing to remember and to -strive for,--a thing that she is at present, in her newly emancipated -condition, somewhat prone to forget. In claiming and securing -intellectual equality with Man, she should ever bear in mind that such -a position is only to be held by always maintaining and preserving as -great an Unlikeness to him as possible in her life and surroundings. -Let her imitate him in nothing but independence and individuality. Let -her eschew his fashions in dress, his talk and his manners. A woman who -wears “mannish” clothes, smokes cigars, rattles out slang, gambles at -cards, and drinks brandy and soda on the slightest provocation, is lost -altogether, both as woman and man, and becomes sexless. But the woman -whose dress is always becoming and graceful, whose voice is equable and -tender, who enhances whatever beauty she possesses by exquisite manner, -unblemished reputation, and intellectual capacity combined, raises -herself not only to an equality with man, but goes so far above him -that she straightway becomes the Goddess and he the Worshipper. This is -as it should be. Men adore what they cannot imitate. Therefore when men -are drunken, let women be sober; when men are licentious, let women be -chaste; when men are turf-hunters and card-players, let women absent -themselves from both the race-course and the gambling-table; and while -placing a gentle yet firm ban on laxity in morals and disregard of the -binding sanctity of family life, let them silently work on and make -progress in every art, every profession, every useful handicraft, that -they may not be dependent for home or livelihood on man’s merely casual -fancy or idle whim. The mistake of Woman’s progress up to the present, -has been her slavish imitation of Man’s often unadmirable tastes, and -a pathetic “going down” under his lofty disdain. Once grasp the fact -that his disdain is not “lofty” but merely comic, and that his case -is only that of the Distressful Peacock, hurt by indifference to his -tail, things will right themselves. Nature has already endowed Woman -with the contrasting elements of beauty, delicacy, and soft charm, as -opposed to man’s frequent ugliness and roughness; let Woman herself -continue to emphasize the difference by bringing out her original and -individual qualities in all she does or attempts to do. Of course -for a long time yet, Man will declare “feminine individuality” to be -non-existent; but as we know the quality is as plain and patent as -“masculine individuality,” we have only to insist upon it and assert -it, and in due course it will be fully admitted and acknowledged. -Meantime, while pressing on towards the desired goal, Woman must learn -the chief lesson of successful progress, which is, not to copy Man, but -to carefully preserve her beautiful Unlikeness to him in every possible -way, so that, while asserting and gaining intellectual equality with -him, she shall gradually arrive at such ascendancy as to prove herself -ever the finer and the nobler Creature. - - - - -THE PALM OF BEAUTY - - -It would seem, according to the society press, that beauty is a -very common article. Indeed, if we are to accept the innocent -ebullitions of the callow youths who drink beer and play skittles -in the Social-Paragraph line of journalism, and who in their soft -guilelessness are taken in and “used” by certain ladies of a type -resembling Miss Skeggs and Lady Blarney in the _Vicar of Wakefield_, -we are bound to believe that beautiful women are as common as -blackberries, only more so. In the columns devoted by newspaper editors -to the meanderings of those intelligent persons, male and female, -who sign themselves as Onlookers, Observers, Butterflies, Little -Tomtits, and what may be called “I Spys!” generally, one hardly ever -sees the name of a lady without the epithet “beautiful” tacked on to -it, especially if the lady happens to have money. This is curious, -but true. And supposing the so-called Beautiful One has not only -money, commonly speaking, but heaps of money, mines of money, she is -always stated to be “young” as well. The heavier the bullion, the -more assured the youthfulness. If unkind Time shows her to be the -mother of a family where the eldest sprout is some twenty odd years -of age, the complaisant “I Spy” is equal to the occasion and writes -of her thus--“The beautiful Mrs. Juno-Athene brought her eldest -girl, looking more like her sister than her mother.” Whereat Mrs. -Juno-Athene is satisfied,--everybody smiles, and all things are cosy -and comfortable. If any one should dare to say, especially in print, -that Mrs. Juno-Athene is not “beautiful” at all, nor “youthful” in -either looks or bearing, there would be ructions. Somebody would get -into trouble. The “I Spy” might even be dismissed from his or her post -of social paragraphist to the Daily Error. Heaven forbid that such a -catastrophe should happen through the indiscretion of a mere miserable -truth-monger! Let Mrs. Juno-Athene be beautifully and eternally young, -by all means, so long as she can afford to pay for it. The humbug of it -is at any rate kindly and chivalrous, and does nobody any harm, while -it puts money in the purse of the hardworking penster, who is compelled -to deal delicately with these little social matters sometimes, or else -ruminate on a dinner instead of eating it. - -Nevertheless, despite the “I Spys,” and the perennial charms of Mrs. -Juno-Athene, beauty is as rare and choice a thing as ever it was in the -days of old when men went mad for it, and Greeks and Trojans fought for -Helen, who, so some historians say, was past forty when her bewitching -fairness set the soul of Troy on fire. A really beautiful woman is -scarcely ever seen, not even in Great Britain, where average good looks -are pleasantly paramount. Prettiness,--the prettiness which is made -up of a good skin, bright eyes, soft and abundant hair, and a supple -figure,--is quite ordinary. It can be seen every day among barmaids, -shop girls, and milliners’ _mannequins_. But Beauty--the divine and -subtle charm which enraptures all beholders,--the perfect form, united -to the perfect face in which pure and noble thought is expressed in -every feature, in every glance of eye, in every smile that makes a -sweet mouth sweeter,--this is what we may search for through all the -Isles of Britain, ay, and through Europe and America and the whole -world besides, and seldom or never find it. - -Nine-tenths of the women who are styled “beautiful” by the society -paragraphist, possess merely the average good looks;--the rest are -generally more particularly distinguished by some single and special -trait which may perchance be natural, and may equally be artificial, -such as uncommon-coloured hair (which may be dyed), a brilliant -complexion (which may be put on), or a marvellously “svelte” figure -(which may be the happy result of carefully designed corsets, well -pulled in). Most of the eulogized “beauties” of the Upper Ten to-day, -have, or are able to get, sufficient money or credit supplied to -them for dressing well,--and not only well, but elaborately and -extravagantly, and dress is often the “beauty” instead of the woman. -To judge whether the woman herself is really beautiful without the -modiste’s assistance, it would be necessary to see her deprived of -all her fashionable clothes. Her bought hair should be taken off -and only the natural remainder left. She should be content to stand -_sans_ paint, _sans_ powder, _sans_ back coil, _sans_ corsets, in a -plain white gown, falling from her neck and shoulders to her feet, and -thus cheaply, yet decently clad, submit herself to the gaze of her -male flatterers in full daylight. How many of the “beautiful” Mrs. -Juno-Athenes or the “lovely” Lady Spendthrifts could stand such a test -unflinchingly? Yet the simplest draperies clothe the Greek marbles when -they are clothed at all, and jewels and fripperies on the goddess Diana -would make her grace seem vulgar and her perfection common. Beauty, -real beauty, needs no “creator of costume” to define it, but is, as the -poets say, when unadorned, adorned the most. - -Now it is absolutely impossible to meet with any “unadorned” sort -of beauty in those circles of rank and fashion where the society -paragraphist basks at his or her pleasure. On the contrary, there is -so much over-adornment in vogue that it is sometimes difficult to -find the actual true colour and personality of certain ladies whose -charms are daily eulogized by an obliging press. Layers of pearl enamel -picked out with rouge, entirely conceal their human identity. It is -doubtful whether there was ever more face-painting and “faking up” of -beauty than there is now,--never did beauty specialists and beauty -doctors drive such a roaring trade. The profits of beauty-faking are -enormous. Some idea of it may be gained by the fact that there is a -certain shrewd and highly intelligent “doctor” in Paris, who, seeing -which way the wind of fashion blows, brews a harmless little mixture of -rose-water, eau-de-cologne, tincture of benzoin and cochineal, which -materials are quite the reverse of costly, and calling it by a pretty -_sobriquet_, sells the same at twenty-five shillings a bottle! He is -making a fortune out of women’s stupidity, is this good “doctor,” and -who shall blame him? Fools exist merely that the wise may use them. -One has only to read the ladies’ papers, especially the advertisements -therein, to grasp a faint notion of what is being done to spur on the -“beauty” craze. Yet beauty remains as rare and remote as ever, and -often when we see some of the ladies whose “exquisite loveliness” -has been praised for years in nearly every newspaper on this, or the -other side of the Atlantic, we fall back dismayed, with a sense of the -deepest disappointment and aggravation, and wonder what we have done to -be so deceived? - -Taken in the majority, the women of Great Britain are supposed to -hold the palm of beauty against all other women of the nations of -the world, and if the word “beauty” be changed to prettiness, the -supposition is no doubt correct. It is somewhat unfortunate, however, -that either through the advice of their dressmakers or their own -erroneous conceptions of Form, they should appear to resent the soft -outlines and gracious curves of nature, for either by the over-excess -of their outdoor sports, or the undue compression of corsets, they are -gradually doing away with their originally intended shapes and becoming -as flat-chested as jockeys under training. No flat-chested woman is -pretty. No woman with large hands, large feet, and the coarse muscular -throat and jaw developed by constant bicycle-riding, can be called -fascinating. The bony and resolute lady whose lines of figure run -straight down without a curve anywhere from head to heel, may possibly -be a good athlete, but her looks are by no means to her advantage. -Men’s hearts are not enthralled or captured by a Something appearing -to be neither man nor woman. And there are a great many of these -Somethings about just now. I am ignorant as to whether American women -go in for mannish sports as frequently and ardently as their British -sisters, but I notice that they have daintier hands and feet, and less -pronounced “muscle.” - -At the same time American women on an average, are not so pretty -as British women on the same average. The American complexion is -unfortunate. Often radiant and delicate in earliest youth, it fades -with maturity like a brilliant flower scorched by too hot a sun, -and once departed returns no more. The clear complexion of British -women is their best feature. The natural rose and white skin of an -English, Irish or Scottish girl,--especially a girl born and bred in -the country, is wonderfully fresh and lovely and lasting, and often -accompanies her right through her life to old age. That is, of course, -if she leaves it alone, and is satisfied merely to keep it clean, -without any “adornment” from the beauty doctor. And, though steadily -withholding the divine word “beauty” from the greater portion of the -“beauties” at the Court of King Edward VII. it is unquestionably the -fact that the prettiest women in the world are the British. Americans -are likely to contest this. They will, as indeed in true chivalry they -must, declare that their own “beauties” are best. But one can only -speak from personal experience, and I am bound to say that I have never -seen a pretty American woman pretty enough to beat a pretty British -woman. This, with every possible admission made for the hard-working -society paragraphist, compelled to write of numerous “beautiful” -Ladies So-and-So, and “charming” Mrs. Cashboxes, who, when one comes to -look at them are neither “beautiful” nor “charming” at all. - -But British feminine prettiness would be infinitely more captivating -than it is, if it were associated with a little extra additional -touch of vivacity and intelligence. When it is put in the shade, (as -frequently happens,) by the sparkling allurements of the Viennese -coquette, the graceful _savoir faire_ of the French _mondaine_, or -the enticing charm of lustrous-eyed sirens from southern Italy, it -is merely because of its lack of wit. It is a good thing to have a -pretty face; but if the face be only like a wax mask, moveless and -expressionless, it soon ceases to attract. The loveliest picture -would bore us if we had to stare at it dumbly all day. And there is -undeniably a stiffness, a formality, and often a most repellent and -unsympathetic coldness about the British fair sex, which re-acts upon -the men and women of other more warm-hearted and impulsive nations, -in a manner highly disadvantageous to the ladies of our Fortunate -Isles. For it is not _real_ stiffness, or _real_ formality after -all,--nor is it the snowy chill of a touch-me-not chastity, by any -means,--it is merely a most painful, and in many cases, most absurd -self-consciousness. British women are always more or less wondering -what their sister women are thinking about them. They can manage their -men all right; but they put on curious and unbecoming airs directly -other feminine influences than their own come into play. They invite -the comment of the opposite sex, but they dread the criticism of their -own. The awkward girl who sits on the edge of a chair with her feet -scraping the carpet and her hands twiddling uneasily in her lap, is -awkward simply because she has, by some means or other, been made -self-conscious,--and because, in the excess of this self-consciousness -she stupidly imagines every one in the room must be staring at her. -The average London woman, dressed like a fashion-plate, who rustles -in at afternoon tea, with her card-case well in evidence, and her -face carefully set in proper “visiting lines,” offers herself up in -this way as a subject for the satirist, out of the same disfiguring -self-consciousness, which robs her entirely of the indifferent ease -and careless grace which should,--to quote the greatest of American -philosophers, Emerson,--cause her to “repel interference by a decided -and proud choice of influences,” and to “inspire every beholder with -something of her own nobleness.” She is probably not _naturally_ -formal,--she is no doubt exceedingly constrained and uncomfortable -in her fashionable attire,--and one may take it for granted that -she would rather be herself than try to be a Something which is a -Nothing. But Custom and Convention are her bogie men, always guarding -her on either side, and investing her too often with such deplorable -self-consciousness that her eye becomes furtive, her mouth hard and -secretive, her conversation inane, and her whole personality an -uncomfortable exhalation of stupidity and dullness. - -Nevertheless, setting Custom and Convention apart for the nonce, and -bidding them descend into the shadows of hypocrisy which are their -native atmosphere, the British woman remains the prettiest in the -world. What a galaxy of feminine charms can be gathered under the word -“British”! England, Ireland, Wales and Scotland offer all together such -countless examples of woman’s loveliness, that it would be difficult, -if not impossible, to give the prize for good looks to one portion of -Britain more than to the other. America, so far as her samples have -been, and are, seen in Europe, cannot outrival the “Old Country” in the -prettiness of its women. But it is prettiness only; not Beauty. Beauty -remains intrinsically where it was first born and first admitted into -the annals of Art and Literature. Its home is still in “the Isles of -Greece, where burning Sappho loved and sung.” - -Nothing that was ever created in the way of female loveliness can -surpass the beauty of a beautiful Greek woman. True, she is as rare as -a butterfly in a snow storm. True, the women of Athens and of Greece -generally, taken in the rough majority, are not on an average, even -pretty. Nevertheless the palm of beauty remains with them--because -there are always two,--or may be three of them, who dawn year by year -upon the world in all the old perfection of the classic models, and -who may truly be taken for newly-descended goddesses, so faultlessly -formed, so exquisitely featured are they. They are not famed by the -paragraphist, and they probably will never get the chance of moving in -the circles of the British “Upper Ten” or the American “Four Hundred.” -But they are the daughters of Aphrodite still, and hold fast their -heavenly mother’s attributes. It is easy to find a hundred or more -pretty British and American women for one beautiful Greek--but when -found, the beautiful Greek eclipses them all. She is still the wonder -of the world,--the crown of womanly beauty at its best. She shows the -heritage of her race in her regal step and freedom of movement,--in -the lovely curves of her figure, in the classic perfection of her face -with its broad brows, lustrous eyes, arched sweet lips and delicate -contour of chin and throat, and perhaps more than all in the queenly -indifference she bears towards her own loveliness. So, - - - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine, - On Suli’s bank and Parga’s shore, - Exists the remnant of a line - Such as the Doric mothers bore; - And there perhaps some seed is sown - The Heracleidan blood might own! - - -And there still, may be found the perfection of womanhood--the one rare -Greek lily, which blossoming at few and far intervals shows in its -exquisite form and colouring what Woman should be at her fairest. To -her, therefore, must be given the Palm of Beauty. But after the lily, -then the rose!--or rather the roses, multitudinous, varied, and always -sweet--of the Fortunate Isles of Britain. - - - - -THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES - - -To dress well is a social duty. Every educated self-respecting woman -is bound to clothe her person as neatly, as tastefully and becomingly -as she can. But just as a virtue when carried to excess develops into -a vice, so the art of dressing well, when allowed to overstep its -legitimate uses and expenditure, easily runs into folly and madness. -The reckless extravagance of women’s dress at the present day is little -short of criminal insanity. A feverish desire to outvie one another in -the manner and make of their garments appears to possess every feminine -creature whose lot in life places her outside positive penury. The -inordinately wealthy, the normally rich, the well-to-do middle class -and the shabby genteel are all equally infected by the same hysterical -frenzy. And it is a frenzy which is humoured and encouraged on all -sides by those who should have the sense, the intelligence and the -foresight to realize the danger of such a tendency, and the misery to -which in many cases it is surely bound to lead. - -Latterly there have been certain growlings and mutterings of discontent -from husbands who have had to pay certain unexpectedly long bills for -their wives’ “creations in costume”--but, as a matter of fact, it is -really the men who are chiefly to blame for the wicked waste of money -they afterwards resent and deplore. They are the principal instigators -of the mischief,--the aiders and abettors of the destruction of their -own credit and good name. For they openly show their admiration for -women’s clothes more than for the women clothed,--that is to say, -they are more easily captured by art than by nature. No group of male -flatterers is ever seen round a woman whose dress is un-stylish or -otherwise “out-of-date.” She may have the sweetest face in the world, -the purest nature and the truest heart, but the “dressed” woman, the -dyed, the artistically “faked” woman will nearly always score a triumph -over her so far as masculine appreciation and attention are concerned. - -The “faked” woman has everything on her side. The Drama supports her. -The Press encourages her. Whole columns in seemingly sane journals are -devoted to the description of her attire. Very little space is given to -the actual criticism of a new play _as_ a play, but any amount of room -is awarded to glorified “gushers” concerning the actresses’ gowns. Of -course it has to be borne in mind that the “writing up” of actresses’ -gowns serves a double purpose. First, the “creators” of the gowns are -advertised, and may in their turn advertise,--which in these days of -multitudinous rival newspapers, is a point not to be lost sight of. -Secondly, the actresses themselves are advertised and certain gentlemen -with big noses who move “behind the scenes,” and are the lineal -descendants of Moses and Aaron, may thereby be encouraged to speculate -in theatrical “shares.” Whereas criticism of the play itself does no -good to anybody nowadays, not even to the dramatic author. For if such -criticism be unfavourable, the public say it is written by a spiteful -enemy,--if eulogistic, by a “friend at court,” and they accept neither -verdict. They go to see the thing for themselves, and if they like it -they keep on going. If not, they stay away, and there’s an end. - -But to the gowns there is no end. The gowns, even in an _un_-successful -play, are continuously talked of, continuously written about, -continuously sketched in every sort of pictorial, small and great, -fashionable or merely provincial. And the florid language,--or shall -we say the ‘fine writing’?--used to describe clothes generally, on and -off the stage, is so ravingly sentimental, so bewilderingly turgid, -that it can only compare with the fervid verbosity of the early -eighteenth century romancists, or the biting sarcasm of Thackeray’s -_Book of Snobs_, from which the following passage, descriptive of ‘Miss -Snobky’s’ presentation gown, may be aptly quoted:-- - -“_Habit de Cour_ composed of a yellow nankeen illusion dress, over a -slip of rich pea-green corduroy, trimmed _en tablier_ with bouquets -of Brussels sprouts, the body and sleeves handsomely trimmed with -calimanco, and festooned with a pink train and white radishes. -Head-dress, carrots and lappets.” - -By way of a modern pendant to the above grotesque suggestion, one -extract from a lengthy “clothes” article recently published in a daily -paper will suffice: - -“Among the numerous evening and dinner gowns that the young lady has -in her _corbeille_, one, _a l’Impératrice Eugénie_, is very lovely. -The foundation is of white Liberty, with a tulle overdress on which -are four flounces of Chantilly lace arranged in zig-zags, connected -together with shaded pink _gloria_ ribbons arranged in waves and -wreaths. This is repeated on the low corsage and on the long drooping -sleeves of the high bodice. - -“A richer toilette is of white Liberty silk, with a flounce of -magnificent Brussels lace festooned by leaves of the chestnut, formed -of white satin wrought in iris beads and silver on white tulle. The -whole gown is strewn with like leaves of graduating sizes, and the -low corsage has a _berthe_ of Brussels lace ornamented with smaller -chestnut leaves as are also the sleeves.” And so on, in unlimited -bursts of enthusiasm. - -I cannot say I am in the least sorry when “modistes” who ‘create’ -costumes at forty, fifty and even one hundred and two hundred guineas -per gown, are mulcted of some of their unlawful profits by defaulting -creditors. In nine cases out of ten they richly deserve it. They are -rightly punished, when they accept, with fulsome flattery and servile -obsequiousness a “title” as sufficient guarantee for credit, and in -the end find out that Her Grace the Duchess, or Miladi the Countess is -perhaps more wickedly reckless and unprincipled than any plain Miss, or -Mrs. ever born, and that these _grandes dames_ frequently make use of -both rank and position to cheat their tradespeople systematically. The -tradespeople are entirely to blame for trusting them, and this is daily -and continuously proved. But the touching crook-knee’d worship of mere -social rank still remains an ingredient of the mercantile nature,--it -is inborn and racial,--a kind of microbe in the blood generated there -in old feudal times, when, all over the world, pedlars humbly sought -the patronage and favour of robber chieftains, and unloaded their packs -in the ‘Castle hall’ for the pleasure of the fair ladies who were -kept at home in “durance vile” by their rough, unwashen lords. And so -perhaps it has chanced through long custom and heritage, that at this -present day there is nothing quite so servile in all creation as the -spectacle of the ‘modiste’ in attendance on a Duchess, or a ‘ladies’ -tailor’ bending himself double while deferentially presuming to measure -the hips of a Princess. It is quaint,--it is pitiful,--it is intensely, -deliciously comic. And when the price of the garment is never clearly -stated, and the bill never sent in for years lest offence is given to -‘Her Grace’ or ‘Her Highness’--by firms that will, nevertheless, have -no scruple in sending dunning letters and legal threats to _un_-titled -ladies, who may possibly keep them waiting a little for their money, -but whose position and credit are more firmly established than those of -any ‘great’ personages with handles to their names, it is not without -a certain secret satisfaction that one hears of such fawning flunkeys -of trade getting well burnt in the fires of loss and disaster. For in -any case, it may be taken for granted that they always charge a double, -sometimes treble price for a garment or costume, over and above what -that garment or costume is really worth, and one may safely presume -they base all their calculations on possible loss. It is no uncommon -thing to be told that such and such an evening blouse or bodice copied -‘from the Paris model’ will cost Forty Guineas--“We _might_ possibly do -it for Thirty Five,”--says the costumier meditatively, studying with -well-assumed gravity the small, flimsy object he is thus pricing, a -trifle made up of chiffon, ribbon, and tinsel gew-gaws, knowing all the -while that everything of which it is composed could be purchased for -much less than ten pounds. Twenty-five guineas, forty-five guineas, -sixty-five guineas are quite common prices for gowns at any of the -fashionable shops to-day. One cannot, of course, blame the modistes -and outfitting firms for asking these absurd fancy prices if they can -get them. If women are mad, it is perhaps wise, just, and reasonable -to take financial advantage of their madness while it lasts. Certainly -no woman of well-balanced brain would give unlimited prices for gowns -without most careful inquiry as to the correct value of the material -and trimming used for them,--and the feminine creature who runs into -the elaborate show-rooms of Madame Zoë or Berenice, or Faustina, and -orders frocks by the dozen, saying chirpingly: “Oh, yes! _You_ know -how they ought to be made! Your taste is always perfect! Make them -_very_ pretty, won’t you?--_much_ prettier than those you made for Lady -Claribel! Yes!--thanks! I’ll leave it all in your hands!” this woman, I -say, is a mere lunatic, gibbering nonsense, who could not, if she were -asked, tell where twice two making four might possibly lead her in the -sum-total of a banking account. - -Not very long ago there was held a wonderful “symposium” of dress at -the establishment of a certain modiste. It was intensely diverting, -entertaining and instructive. A stage was erected at one end of a long -room, and on that stage, with effective flashes of lime-light played -from the “wings” at intervals, and the accompaniment of a Hungarian -band, young ladies wearing “creations” in costume, stood, sat, turned, -twisted and twirled, and finally walked down the room between rows -of spectators to show themselves and the gowns they carried, off to -the best possible advantage. The whole thing was much better than a -stage comedy. Nothing could surpass the quaint peacock-like vanity -of the girl _mannequins_ who strutted up and down, moving their arms -about to exhibit their sleeves and swaying their hips to accentuate -the fall and flow of flounces and draperies. It was a marvellous sight -to behold, and it irresistibly reminded one of a party of impudent -children trying on for fun all their mother’s and elder sisters’ best -“long dresses” while the unsuspecting owners were out of the way. There -was a “programme” of the performance fearfully and wonderfully worded, -the composition, so we were afterwards “with bated breath” informed, -of Madame la Modiste’s sister, a lady, who by virtue of having written -two small skits on the manners, customs and modes of society, is, in -some obliging quarters of the Press called a “novelist.” This programme -instructed us as to the proper views we were expected to take of the -costumes paraded before us, as follows: - - -FOR THE DINNER PARTY - - - Topas - Elusive Joy - Pleasure’s Thrall - Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower - - -The “Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower” was a harmless-looking girl in a -bright scarlet toilette,--neither the toilette nor the sensational -title suited her. But perhaps the “Cult of Chiffon” presented the most -varied and startling phases to a properly receptive mind. Thus it ran: - - -THE CULT OF CHIFFON - - - The Dirge O’er the Death of Pleasure - The Fire Motif - The Meaning of Life is Clear - Moss and Starlight - Incessant Soft Desire - A Frenzied Song of Amorous Things - A Summer Night Has a Thousand Powers - - -Faint gigglings shook the bosoms of the profane as the “Incessant Soft -Desire” glided into view, followed by “A Frenzied Song of Amorous -Things,”--indeed it would have been positively unnatural and inhuman -had no one laughed. Curious to relate, there were quite a large number -of “gentlemen” at this remarkable exhibition of feminine clothes, -many of them well known and easily recognizable. Certain _flaneurs_ -of Bond Street, various loafers familiar to the Carlton “lounge,” and -celebrated Piccadilly-trotters, formed nearly one half of the audience, -and stared with easy insolence at the “Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower” -or smiled suggestively at “Incessant Soft Desire.” They were invited to -stare and smile, and they did it. But there was something remarkably -offensive in their way of doing it, and perhaps if a few thick boots -worn on the feet of rough but honest workmen had come into contact -with their smooth personalities on their way out of Madame Modiste’s -establishment, it might have done them good and taught them a useful -lesson. Needless to say that the prices of the Madame Modiste who could -set forth such an exhibition of melodramatically designated feminine -apparel as “The Night has a Thousand Eyes,” or “Spring’s Delirium,” -were in suitable proportion to a “frenzied song of amorous things.” -Such amorous things as are “created” in her establishment are likely to -make husbands and fathers know exactly what “a frenzied song” means. -When the payment of the bills is concerned, they will probably sing -that “frenzied song” themselves. - -It is quite easy to dress well and tastefully without -spending a very great deal of money. It certainly requires -brain--thought--foresight--taste--and comprehension of the harmony -of colours. But the blind following of a fashion because Madame This -or That says it is “chic” or “le dernier cri,” or some parrot-like -recommendation of the sort, is mere stupidity on the part of the -followers. To run up long credit for dresses, without the least idea -how the account is ever going to be paid, is nothing less than a -criminal act. It is simply fraud. And such fraud re-acts on the whole -community. - -Extravagant taste in dress is infectious. Most of us are impressed by -the King’s sensible and earnest desire that the Press should use its -influence for good in fostering amity between ourselves and foreign -countries. If the Press would equally use its efforts to discourage -florid descriptions of dress in their columns, much of the wild and -wilful extravagance which is frequently the ruin of otherwise happy -homes, might be avoided. When Lady A sees her loathëd rival Lady B’s -dress described in half a column of newspaper “gush” she straightway -yearns and schemes for a whole column of the same kind. When simple -country girls read the amazing items of the “toilettes” worn by some -notorious “demi-mondaine,” they begin to wonder how it is she has -such things, and to speculate as to whether they will ever be able -to obtain similar glorified apparel for themselves. And so the evil -grows, till by and by it becomes a pernicious disease, and women look -superciliously at one another, not for what they are, but merely -to estimate the quality and style of what they put on their backs. -Virtue goes to the wall if it does not wear a fashionable frock. -Vice is welcomed everywhere if it is clothed in a Paris “creation.” -Nevertheless, Ben Jonson’s lines still hold good: - - - Still to be neat, still to be drest, - As you were going to a feast; - Still to be powder’d, still perfumed: - Lady, it is to be presumed, - Though art’s hid causes are not found - All is not sweet, all is not sound. - - -“All is not sweet, all is not sound,” when women think little or -nothing of ordering extravagant costumes which they well know they will -never be able to pay for, unless through some dishonourable means, such -as gambling at Bridge for example. Madame Modiste is quite prepared -for such an exigency, for she does not forget to show “creations” in -clothes which, she softly purrs, are “suitable for Bridge parties.” -They may possibly be called--“The Tricky Trump”--or “The Dazzling of -a Glance too long” or “The Deft Impress of a Finger nail”! One never -knows! - -Any amount of fashion papers find their way into the average British -household, containing rabid nonsense such as the following: - -“There were wonderful stories afloat about Miss B’s dresses. Rumour has -it that a dressmaker came over specially from New York to requisition -the services of the most important artistes in Paris, and gold lace and -hand embroidery were used with no frugal hand; yet, _despite this_ and -the warm welcome accorded her by an English audience, Miss B does not -seem to have made up her mind to stay with us long, for it is said the -end of June will see the end of her season. We have sketched her in -her pink chiffon wrap, which is made in the Empire shape covered with -chiffon and decorated with bunches of chiffon flowers and green leaves -held with bows of pink satin--a most dainty affair, full of delicate -detail and pre-eminently becoming.” - -“Despite this,”--is rich indeed! Despite the fact that “gold lace and -hand-embroidery” were used “with no frugal hand,” Miss B is determined -to leave “the gay, the gay and glittering scene,” and deprive us of -her “pink chiffon wrap in the Empire shape”! A positively disastrous -conclusion! Nay, but hearken to the maudlin murmurs of the crazed -worshippers of Mumbo-Jumbo “Fashion”-- - -“Do you yearn for a grey muslin dress? Half my ‘smart girl’ -acquaintances are buying grey muslins as though their lives depended -on it. I fell in love with one of them that was in bouilloné gathers -all round the skirt to within eight inches of the hem, while the -yoke had similar but smaller bouillonés run through, well below the -shoulder-line, with a wide chiné ribbon knotted low in front. Beneath -this encircling ribbon the bodice pouched in blouse fashion over a -chiné waist-ribbon to match, with long pendant ends one side; the -sleeves were a distinct novelty, being set in a number of small puffs -below one big one, a chiné ribbon being knotted around the arm between -each puff.” - -“Do you ‘yearn’ for a grey muslin dress?” O ye gods! One is reminded of -a comic passage in the “Artemus Ward” papers, where it is related how -a lady of the “Free Love” persuasion rushed at the American humorist, -brandishing a cotton umbrella and crying out: “Dost thou not yearn -for me?” to which adjuration Artemus replied, while he “dodged” the -umbrella--“Not a yearn!” - -“I should like,”--says one of the poor imbecile “dress” devotees, “the -skirt finished off with a wadded hem, or perhaps a few folds of satin, -but otherwise it should be left severely plain. These satin, brocade, -or velvet dresses should stand or fall by their own merits, and never -be over-elaborated.” - -True! And is it “a wadded hem” or a padded room that should “finish -off” these people who spread the madness of clothes far and wide till -it becomes a positively dangerous and immoral infection? One wonders! -For there is no more mischievous wickedness in society to-day than the -flamboyant, exuberant, wilful extravagance of women’s dress. It has far -exceeded the natural and pretty vanity of permissible charm, good taste -and elegance. It has become a riotous waste,--an ugly disease of moral -principle, ending at last in the disgrace and death of many a woman’s -good name. - - - - -THE DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND - - -When people tell the truth they are generally disliked. From Socrates, -to the latest of his modern philosophic imitators, the bowl of -death-dealing hemlock has always been mixed by the world and held to -the lips of those who dare to say uncomfortably plain things. When -the late W. E. H. Lecky set down the truth of Cecil Rhodes, in his -book entitled _The Map of Life_, and I, the present writer, ventured -to quote the passage in “The Vulgarity of Wealth,” when that article -was first published, a number of uninformed individuals rashly accused -me of “abusing Cecil Rhodes.” They were naturally afraid to attack -the greater writer. Inasmuch, said they: “If Mr. Lecky had _really_ -suggested that Cecil Rhodes was not, like Brutus, ‘an honourable man,’ -he, Mr. Lecky, would never have received the King’s new ‘Order of -Merit,’ nor would Mr. Rhodes have been the subject of so much eulogy. -For, of course, the King has read _The Map of Life_, and is aware of -the assertions contained in it.” Now I wish, dear gossips all, you -would read _The Map of Life_ for yourselves! You will find, if you do, -not only plain facts concerning Rhodes, and the vulgarity, i.e. the -ostentation of wealth, but much useful information on sundry other -matters closely concerning various manners and customs of the present -day. For one example, consider the following: - -“The amount of pure and almost spontaneous malevolence in the world is -probably far greater than we at first imagine.... No one, for example, -can study the anonymous press, without perceiving how large a part of -it is employed _systematically_, _persistently_ and _deliberately_ in -fostering class, or individual or international hatreds, and often _in -circulating falsehoods to attain this end_. Many newspapers notoriously -depend for their existence on such appeals, and more than any other -instruments, they inflame and perpetuate those permanent animosities -which most endanger the peace of mankind. The fact that such newspapers -are becoming in many countries the main and almost exclusive reading of -the million, forms the most serious deduction from the value of modern -education.” - -Let it be noted, once and for all, that it is not the present writer -who thus speaks of “the anonymous press,” but the experienced, -brilliant and unprejudiced scholar who was among the first to hold the -King’s “Order of Merit.” And so once again to our muttons:-- - -“Some of the very worst acts of which man can be guilty are acts which -are commonly untouched by law, and only faintly censured by opinion. -Political crimes, which a false and sickly sentiment so readily -condones, are conspicuous among them. Men who have been gambling for -wealth and power with the lives and fortunes of multitudes; men who -for their own personal ambition are prepared to sacrifice the most -vital interests of their country; men, who in time of great national -danger and excitement deliberately launch falsehood after falsehood -in the public press, in the well-founded conviction that they will do -their evil work before they can be contradicted, may be met shameless -and almost uncensured in Parliaments and drawing-rooms. The amount -of false statements in the world which cannot be attributed to mere -carelessness, inaccuracy or exaggeration, but which is plainly both -deliberate and malevolent, can hardly be overrated. Sometimes it is -due to a mere desire to create a lucrative sensation, or to gratify -a personal dislike, or even to an unprovoked malevolence which takes -pleasure in inflicting pain. * * * Very often it (i.e. the false -statement in the press) is intended for purposes of stock-jobbing. -The financial world is percolated with it. It is the common method -of raising or depreciating securities, attracting investors, preying -upon the ignorant and credulous, and enabling dishonest men to rise -rapidly to fortune. When the prospect of speedy wealth is in sight, -there are always numbers who are perfectly prepared to pursue courses -involving the utter ruin of multitudes, endangering the most serious -international interests, perhaps bringing down upon the world all the -calamities of war.... It is much to be questioned whether the greatest -criminals are to be found within the walls of prisons. Dishonesty on -a small scale nearly always finds its punishment. Dishonesty on a -gigantic scale continually escapes.... In the management of companies, -in the great fields of industrial enterprise and speculation, gigantic -fortunes are acquired by the ruin of multitudes; and by methods which -though they avoid legal penalties are essentially fraudulent. In the -majority of cases these crimes are perpetrated by educated men who are -in possession of all the necessaries, of most comforts, and of many -luxuries of life, and some of the worst of them are powerfully favoured -by the conditions of modern civilization. There is no greater scandal -or moral evil in our time than the readiness with which public opinion -excuses them, and the influence and social position it accords to mere -wealth, even when it has been acquired by notorious dishonesty, or when -it is expended with absolute selfishness or in ways that are absolutely -demoralising. In many respects the moral progress of mankind seems to -me incontestable, but it is extremely doubtful whether in this respect, -social morality, especially in England and America, has not seriously -retrograded.” - - * * * * * - * * * * - * * * - * * - -Now had I written the foregoing lines, some hundred or so of -pleasant newspaper friends would have accused me of “screaming” out -a denunciation of wealth, or of “railing” against society. But as -Lecky,--with the King’s “Order of Merit,” appended to his distinguished -name,--was the real author of the quotation, I am not without hope -that his views may be judged worthy of consideration, even though his -works may not be as thoughtfully studied as their excellence merits. -It is not I--it was Mr. Lecky, who doubted whether “social morality -both in England and America, had not seriously retrograded.” But, if -it has so retrograded, there need be very little difficulty in tracing -the retrogression to its direct source,--namely, to the carelessness, -vanity, extravagance, lack of high principle, and entire lapse of -dignity in the women who constitute and lead what is called the Smart -Set. These women cannot be termed as of the Aristocracy, for the -Aristocracy, (by which term I mean those who are lineally entitled -to be considered the actual British nobility, and not the mushroom -creations of yesterday), will, more often than not, decline to have -anything to do with them. True, there are some “great” ladies, who -have deliberately and voluntarily fallen from their high estate in -the sight of a scandalised public, and who, by birth and breeding, -should assuredly have possessed more pride and self-respect, than to -wilfully descend into the mire. But the very fact that these few have -so lamentably failed to support the responsibilities of their position, -makes it all the sadder for the many good and true women of noble -family who endeavour, as best they may, to stem the tide of harmful -circumstance, and to show by the retired simplicity and intellectual -charm of their own lives, that though society is fast becoming a -disordered wilderness of American and South African “scrub,” there yet -remains within it a flourishing scion of the brave old English Oak of -Honour, guarded by the plain device “Noblesse Oblige.” - -The influence of women bears perhaps more strongly than any other -power on the position and supremacy of a country. Corrupt women make -a corrupt State,--noble, God-fearing women make a noble, God-fearing -people. It is not too much to say that the prosperity or adversity -of a nation rests in the hands of its women. They are the mothers of -the men,--they make and mould the characters of their sons. And the -centre of their influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, the -Home. Home is the pivot round which the wheel of a country’s highest -statesmanship should revolve,--the preservation of Home, its interests, -its duties and principles, should be the aim of every good citizen. But -with the “retrogression of social morality,” as Mr. Lecky phrased it, -and as part and parcel of that backward action and movement, has gone -the gradual decay of home life, and a growing indifference to home as -a centre of attraction and influence, together with the undermining -of family ties and affections, which, rightly used and considered, -should form the strongest bulwark to our national strength. The love -of home,--the desire to _make_ a home,--is far stronger in the poorer -classes nowadays than in the wealthy or even the moderately rich of the -general community. Women of the “upper ten” are no longer pre-eminent -as rulers of the home, but are to be seen daily and nightly as noisy -and pushing frequenters of public restaurants. The great lady is -seldom or never to be found “at home” on her own domain,--but she may -be easily met at the Carlton, Prince’s, or the Berkeley (on Sundays). -The old-world châtelaine of a great house who took pride in looking -after the comfort of all her retainers,--who displayed an active -interest in every detail of management,--surrounding herself with -choice furniture, fine pictures, sweet linen, beautiful flowers, and -home delicates of her own personal make or supervision, is becoming -well-nigh obsolete. “It is such a bore being at home!” is quite an -ordinary phrase with the gawk-girl of the present day, who has no idea -of the value of rest as an aid to beauty, or of the healthful and -strengthening influences of a quiet and well-cultivated mind, and who -has made herself what is sometimes casually termed a “sight” by her -skill at hockey, her speed in cycling, and her general “rushing about,” -in order to get anywhere away from the detested “home.” The mother of -a family now aspires to seem as young as her daughters, and among the -vanishing graces of society may be noted the grace of old age. Nobody -is old nowadays. Men of sixty wed girls of sixteen, women of fifty lead -boys of twenty to the sacrificial altar. Such things are repulsive, -abominable and unnatural, but they are done every day, and a certain -“social set,” smirk the usual conventional hypocritical approval, few -having the courage to protest against what they must inwardly recognize -as both outrageous and indecent. The real “old” lady, the real “old” -gentleman will soon be counted among the “rare and curious” specimens -of the race. The mother who was _not_ “married at sixteen,” will ere -long be a remarkable prodigy, and the paterfamilias who never explains -that he “made an unfortunate marriage when quite a boy,” will rank -beside her as a companion phenomenon. We have only to scan the pages of -those periodicals which cater specially for fashionable folk, to see -what a frantic dread of age pervades all classes of pleasure-loving -society. The innumerable nostrums for removing wrinkles, massaging or -“steaming” the complexion, the “coverings” for thin hair, the “rays,” -of gold or copper or auburn, which are cunningly contrived for grey, -or to use the more polite word, “faded,” tresses, the great army of -manicurists, masseurs and “beauty-specialists,” who, in the most -clever way, manage to make comfortable incomes out of the general -panic which apparently prevails among their patrons at the inflexible, -unstoppable march of Time,--all these things are striking proofs of -the constant desperate fight kept up by a large and foolish majority -against the laws of God and of Nature. Nor is the category confined to -persons of admittedly weak intellect, as might readily be imagined, -for just as the sapient Mr. Andrew Lang has almost been convicted -of a hesitating faith in magic crystals, (God save him!) so are the -names of many men, eminent in scholarship and politics, “down on the -list” of the dyer, the steamer, the padder, the muscle-improver, the -nail-polisher, the wrinkle-remover, and the eye-embellisher. Which -facts, though apparently trivial, are so many brief hints of a “giving” -in the masculine stamina. “It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of -gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman.” Vide _Hamlet_. Such it -may be,--let us hope that such it is. - -No doubt much of this fantastic dread of “looking old,” arises from the -fact that nowadays age, instead of receiving the honour it merits, is -frequently made the butt of ignorant and vulgar ridicule. One exception -alone is allowed in the case of our gracious Queen Alexandra, who -supports her years with so much ease and scarcely diminished beauty. -But there are hosts of other women beside the Queen whom it would -seem that “age cannot wither,”--Sarah Bernhardt, for example, whose -brilliant vitality is the envy of all her feminine compeers; while -many leading “beauties” who never scored a success in their teens, -are now trampling triumphantly over men’s hearts in their forties. -Nevertheless the boorish sections of the Press and of society take a -special delight, (Mr. Lecky calls it “pure malevolence,”) in making -the advance of age a subject for coarse jesting, whereas if rightly -viewed, the decline of the body is merely the natural withering of -that chrysalis which contains the ever young and immortal Soul. Forced -asunder by the strength of unfolding wings, the chrysalis _must_ break; -and its breaking should not cause regret, but joy. Of course if faith -in God is a mere dead letter, and poor humanity is taught to consider -this brief life as our sole beginning and end, I can quite imagine that -the advance of years may be looked upon with dislike and fear,--though -scarcely with ridicule. But for the happy beings who are conscious that -while the body grows weaker, the Soul grows stronger,--who feel that -behind this mere passing “reflection” of Life, the real Life awaits -them, age has no drawbacks and no forebodings of evil. The prevailing -dread of it, and the universal fighting against it, betoken an insecure -and wholly materialistic mental attitude. - -Of the feminine indulgence in complexion cures, combined with the -deplorable lack of common sense, which shows itself in the constant -consultation of palmists and clairvoyants, while home and family -duties are completely neglected or forgotten, the less said the better. -By such conduct women appear to be voluntarily straying back to the -dark ages when people believed in witches and soothsayers, and would -pay five shillings or more to see the faces of their future husbands -in the village well. Happy the man who, at the crucial moment, looked -over the shoulder of the enquiring maiden! He was sure to be accepted -on the value of his own mirrored reflection, apart altogether from -his possible personal merits. To this day in Devonshire, many young -women believe in the demoniacal abilities of a harmless old gentleman -who leads a retired life on the moors, and who is supposed to be able -to “do something to somebody.” It would be a hard task to explain -the real meaning of this somewhat vague phrase, but the following -solution can be safely given without any harm accruing. It works -out in this way: If you know “somebody,” who is unpleasant to you, -go to this old gentleman and give him five shillings, and he will -“do something”--never mind what. It may be safely prophesied that -he will spend the five shillings; the rest is involved in mystery. -Now, however silly this superstition on the part of poor Devonshire -maids may be, it is not a whit more so than the behaviour of the -so-called “cultured” woman of fashion who spends a couple of guineas -in one of the rooms or “salons,” near Bond Street, on the fraudulent -rascal of a “palmist,” or “crystal-gazer,” who has the impudence -and presumption to pretend to know her past and her future. It is a -wonder that the women who patronize these professional cheats have -not more self-respect than to enter such dens, where the crime of -“obtaining money on false pretences” is daily practised without -the intervention of the law. But all the mischief starts from the -same source,--neglect of home, indifference to home duties, and the -constant “gadding-about” which seems to be the principal delight and -aim of women who are amply supplied with the means of subsistence, -either through inherited fortune, or through marriage with a wealthy -partner, and who consider themselves totally exempt from the divine -necessity of Work. Yet these are truly the very ones whose duty it is -to work the hardest, because “Unto whom much is given even from him -(or her) shall much be required.” No woman who has a home need ever -be idle. If she employs her time properly, she will find no leisure -for gossiping, scandal-mongering, moping, grumbling, “fadding,” -fortune-telling or crystal-gazing. Of course, if she “manages” her -household merely through a paid housekeeper, she cannot be said to -govern the establishment at all. The housekeeper is the real mistress, -and very soon secures such a position of authority, that the lady who -employs and pays her scarcely dare give an order without her. Speaking -on this subject a few days ago with a distinguished and mild-tempered -gentleman, who has long ceased to expect any comfort or pleasure in -the magnificent house his wealth pays for, but which under its present -government might as well be a hotel where he is sometimes allowed -to take the head of the table, he said to me, with an air of quiet -resignation:--“Ladies have so many more interests nowadays than in my -father’s time. They do so many things. It is really bewildering! My -wife, for example, is always out. She has so many engagements. She has -scarcely five minutes to herself, and is often quite knocked up with -fatigue and excitement. She has no time to attend to housekeeping, -and of course the children are almost entirely with their nurse -and governess.” This description applies to most households of a -fashionable or “smart” character, and shows what a topsy-turveydom of -the laws of Nature is allowed to pass muster, and to even meet with -general approval. The “wife” of whom my honourable and distinguished -friend spoke to me, rises languidly from her bed at eleven, and -occupies all her time till two o’clock in dressing, manicuring, -“transforming” and “massaging.” She also receives and sends a few -telegrams. At two o’clock she goes out in her carriage and lunches with -some chosen intimates at one or other of the fashionable restaurants. -Lunch over, she returns home and lies down for an hour. Then she arrays -herself in an elaborate tea gown and receives a favoured few in her -boudoir, where over a cup of tea she assists to tear into piecemeal -portions the characters of her dearest friends. Another “rest” and -again the business of the toilette is resumed. When _en grande tenue_ -she either goes out to dinner, or entertains a large party of guests at -her own table. A _tête-à-tête_ meal with her husband would appear to -her in the light of a positive calamity. She stays up playing “Bridge” -till two or three o’clock in the morning, and retires to bed more or -less exhausted, and can only sleep with the aid of narcotics. She -resumes the same useless existence, and perpetrates the same wicked -waste of time again the next day and every day. Her children she -scarcely sees, and the management of her house is entirely removed from -her hands. The housekeeper takes all the accounts to her husband, who -meekly pays the same, and lives for the most part at his club, or at -the houses of his various sporting friends. “Home” is for him a mere -farce. He knew what it was in his mother’s day, when his grand old -historical seat was a home indeed, and all the members of the family, -young and old, looked upon it as the chief centre of attraction, and -the garnering-point of love and faith and confidence; but since he -grew up to manhood, and took for his life-partner a rapid lady of the -new Motor-School of Morals, he stands like Marius among the ruins of -Carthage, contemplating the complete wreckage of his ship of life, and -knowing sadly enough that he can never sail the seas of hope again. - -The word “Home” has, or used to have, a very sacred meaning, and -is peculiarly British. The French have no such term. “Chez-moi” -or “chez-soi” are poor substitutes, and indeed none of the Latin -races appear to have any expression which properly conveys the real -sentiment. The Germans have it, and their “Heimweh” is as significant -as our “home-sickness.” The Germans are essentially a home-loving -people, and this may be said of all Teutonic, Norse and Scandinavian -races. By far the strongest blood of the British is inherited from the -North,--and as a rule the natural tendency in the pure Briton is one -of scorn for the changeful, vagrant, idle, careless and semi-pagan -temperament of southern nations. As the last of our real Laureates -sang in his own matchless way: - - - Oh, tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each - That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, - And dark and true and tender is the North! - - Oh, tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown; - Say that I do but wanton in the South, - But in the North, long since, my nest is made! - - -“My nest is made,” is the ultimatum of the lover,--the “nest” or the -home being the natural centre of the circle of man’s ambition. A happy -home is the best and surest safeguard against all evil; and where home -is not happy, there the devil may freely enter and find his hands -full. With women, and women only, this happiness in the home must find -its foundation. They only are responsible; for no matter how wild and -erring a man may be, if he can always rely on finding somewhere in -the world a peaceful, well-ordered, and _undishonoured_ home, he will -feel the saving grace of it sooner or later, and turn to it as the one -bright beacon in a darkening wilderness. But if he knows that it is a -mere hostelry,--that his wife has no pride in it,--that other men than -himself have found the right to enter there,--that his servants mock -him behind his back as a poor, weak, credulous fool, who has lost all -claim to mastership or control, he grows to hate the very walls of -the dwelling, and does his best to lose himself and his miseries in a -whirlpool of dissipation and folly, which too often ends in premature -breakdown and death. - -One often wonders if the “smart” ladies who cast aside the quiet -joys of home life, in exchange for a jostling “feed” at the Carlton -or other similar resorts, have any idea of the opinion entertained of -their conduct by that Great Majority, the People? The People,--without -whom their favoured political candidates would stand no chance of -election,--the People, without whose willing work, performed under -the heavy strain of cruel and increasing competition, they would be -unable to enjoy the costly luxuries they deem indispensable to their -lives,--the People, who, standing in their millions outside “society” -and its endless intrigues,--outside a complaisant or subsidized -Press,--outside all, save God and the Right,--pass judgment on the -events of the day, and entertain their own strong views thereon, which, -though such views may not find any printed outlet, do nevertheless -make themselves felt in various unmistakable ways. Latterly, there has -been a great clamour about servants and the lack of them. It is quite -true that many ladies find it difficult to secure servants, and that -even when they do secure them, they often turn out badly, being of an -untrained and incompetent class. But why is this? No doubt many causes -work together to make up the sum of deficiency or inefficiency, but -one reason can be given which is possibly entirely unsuspected. It is -a reason which will no doubt astonish some, and awaken the tittering -ridicule of many, but the fact remains unalterable, despite incredulity -and denial. There is really no lack of competent domestic servants. -On the contrary, there are plenty of respectable, willing, smart, -well-instructed girls in the country, who would make what are called -“treasures” in the way of housemaids, parlourmaids and lady’s-maids, -but whose parents stubbornly refuse to let them enter any situation -until they know something of the character of the mistress with whom -they are expected to reside, and the general reputation of the house -or “home” they are to enter. I could name dozens of cases where girls, -on enquiry, have actually declined lucrative situations, and contented -themselves with work at lower wages, rather than be known as “in -service” with certain distinguished ladies. “My girl,” says a farmer’s -wife, “is a clean, wholesome, steady lass; I’d rather keep her by me -for a bit than see her mixing herself up with the fashionable folk, -who are always getting into the divorce court.” This may be a bitter -pill of information for the “smart set” to swallow; but there is no -exaggeration in the statement that the working classes have very little -respect left nowadays for the ladies of the “Upper Ten,” and many of -the wives of honest farmers, mechanics and tradesmen would consider -that they were voluntarily handing over their daughters to temptation -and disgrace by allowing them to enter domestic service with certain -society leaders, who, though bearing well-known names, are branded by -equally well-known “easy virtue.” - -Does any one at this time of day recall a certain chapter in the -immortal story of _Bleak House_, by Charles Dickens, when Mr. -Rouncewell, the iron-master, a mere tradesman in the opinion of that -haughty old aristocrat, Sir Leicester Dedlock, desires to remove the -pretty girl, Rosa, lady’s-maid to Lady Dedlock, at once from her -situation, if she is to marry his son? An extract from this scene may -not here be altogether out of place. - -Lady Dedlock has enquired of the iron-master if the love-affair between -her lady’s-maid and his son is still going on, and receives an answer -in the affirmative. - - - “‘If you remember anything so unimportant,’ he says--‘which is not - to be expected--you would recollect that my first thought in the - affair was directly opposed to her remaining here.’ - - “Dismiss the Dedlock patronage from consideration? Oh! Sir - Leicester is bound to believe a pair of ears that have been - handed down to him through such a family, or he really might have - mistrusted their report of the iron-gentleman’s observation! - - “‘It is not necessary,’ observes my Lady, in her coldest manner, - before he can do anything but breathe amazedly, ‘to enter into - these matters on either side. The girl is a very good girl; I - have nothing whatever to say against her; but she is so far - insensible to her many advantages and her good fortune, that she - is in love--or supposes she is, poor little fool--and unable to - appreciate them.’ - - “Sir Leicester begs to observe that wholly alters the case. He - might have been sure that my Lady had the best grounds and reasons - in support of her view. He entirely agrees with my Lady. The young - woman had better go. - - “‘As Sir Leicester observed, Mr. Rouncewell, on the last - occasion when we were fatigued by this business,’ Lady Dedlock - languidly proceeds, ‘we cannot make conditions with you. Without - conditions, and under present circumstances, the girl is quite - misplaced here and had better go. I have told her so. Would you - wish to have her sent back to the village, or would you like to - take her with you, or what would you prefer?’ - - “‘Lady Dedlock, if I may speak plainly----’ - - “‘By all means.’ - - “‘I should prefer the course which will the sooner relieve you of - the encumbrance, _and remove her from her present position_.’ - - “‘And to speak as plainly,’ she returns, with the same studied - carelessness, ‘so should I. Do I understand that you will take her - with you?’ - - “The iron-gentleman makes an iron bow. - - * * * * * - - “‘Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock,’ says Mr. Rouncewell, after a - pause of a few moments; ‘I beg to take my leave with an apology - for having again troubled you. I can very well understand, I - assure you, how very tiresome so small a matter must have become - to Lady Dedlock. If I am doubtful on my dealing with it, it is - only _because I did not at first quietly exert my influence to - take my young friend here away_ without troubling you at all. - I hope you will excuse my want of acquaintance with the polite - world.” - - -As a matter of fact, certain rumours against Lady Dedlock’s reputation, -and hints as to her “past,” have come to the ears of the honest -tradesman, and he prefers to remove his son’s betrothed wife from the -contact of a possible pernicious influence. The very same thing is -done scores of times over in many similar cases to-day. - -No one knows the real character and disposition of the mistress of a -home better than the servants she employs, and if she is honoured and -loved by her domestics, she stands on surer ground than the praise or -flattery of her fashionable friends. It is all a question of “home” -again. A real home is a home to all connected with it. The very -kitchen-maid employed in it, the boy who runs errands for the house; -indeed every servant, from the lowest to the highest, should feel that -their surroundings are truly “homelike,”--that things are well-ordered, -peaceful and happy; that the presiding spirit of the place, the -mistress, is contented with her life, and cheerfully interested in -the welfare of all around her,--then “all things work together for -good,” and the house becomes a bulwark against adversity, a harbour -in storm, a “nest” indeed, where warmth, repose, and mutual trust and -help make the days sweet and the nights calm. But where the mistress -is scarcely ever at home,--when she prefers public restaurants to her -own dining-room,--when with each change of the seasons she is gadding -about somewhere, and avoiding home as much as possible, how is it to be -expected that even servants will care to stay with her, or ever learn -to admire and respect her? Peace and happiness are hers to possess in -the natural and God-given ways of home life, if she chooses,--but if -she turns aside from her real sovereignty, throws down her sceptre and -plays with the sticks and straws of the “half-world,” she has only -herself to blame if the end should prove but dire confusion and the -bitterness of strife. - -Apart altogether from the individual dignity and self-poise which are -invariably lacking to the “vagrant,” or home despising human being, -the decay of home life in England is a serious menace to the Empire’s -future strength. If our coming race of men have been accustomed to see -their mothers indulging in a kind of high-class public house feasting, -combined with public house morals, and have learned from them an -absolute indifference to home and home ties, they in their turn will do -likewise and live as “vagrants,”--here, there and everywhere, rather -than as well-established, self-respecting citizens and patriots, proud -of their country, and proud of the right to defend their homes. Even as -it is, there are not wanting signs of a general “wandering,” tendency, -combined with morbid apathy and sickly inertia. “One place is as good -as another,” says one section of society, and “anything is better than -the English climate,” says another, preparing to pack off to Egypt or -the Riviera at the first snap of winter. These opinions are an exact -reversion of those expressed by our sturdy, patriotic forefathers, -who made the glory of Great Britain. “There is no place like England” -was their sworn conviction, and “no place like home” was the essence -of their national sentiment. The English climate, too, was quite good -enough for them, and they made the best of it. When will the “Smart -Set” grasp the fact that the much-abused weather, whatever it may be, -is pretty much the same all over Europe? The Riviera is no warmer than -the Cornish coast, but _certes_ it is better provided with hotels, -and--chiefest attraction of all--it has a Gambling Hell. The delights -of Monte Carlo and “Home,” are as far apart as the poles; and those -who seek the one cannot be expected to appreciate the other. But such -English women as are met at the foreign gambling-tables, season after -season, may be looked upon as the deliberate destroyers of all that is -best and strongest in our national life, in the sanctity of Home, and -the beauty of home affections. The English Home used to be a model to -the world;--with a few more scandalous divorce cases in high life, it -will become a by-word for the mockery of nations. The following from -the current Press is sufficiently instructive: - - - “The crowd of well-dressed women who daily throng the court during - the hearing of the ... case and follow with such intense eagerness - every incident in the dissection of a woman’s honour afford a - remarkable object-lesson in contemporary social progress. - - “Ladies, richly garbed, who drive up in smart broughams, - emblazoned carriages, and motor-cars, and are representative of - the best known families in the land, fight and scramble for a - seat, criticize the proceedings in a low monotone, and, without - the smallest indication of a blush, balance every point made by - counsel, and follow with keen apprehension the most suggestive - evidence. - - “Others, no less intensely interested in the sordid details of - divorce, come on foot--women of the great well-to-do middle-class, - who have all their lives had the advantage of refined and - educated surroundings. Some are old, with silvery hair; others - are middle-aged women, who bring comely daughters still in their - teens; others are in the first flush of womanhood; but they all - crowd into the narrow court and struggle to get a glimpse of the - chief actors in the drama, and listen to the testimony which would - convict them of dishonour.” - - -No one in their sober senses will call any of these women fit to -rule their homes, or to be examples to their children. Unblushingly -indecent, and unspeakably vulgar, their brazen effrontery and shameless -interest in the revolting details of a revolting case, have shown them -to be beyond the pale of all true womanhood, and utterly unfit to be -the mothers of our future men, or guardians of the honour of home and -family. There is no “railing” against society in this assertion; the -plain facts speak for themselves. - -The charm of home depends, of course, entirely on the upbringing -and character of the inmates. Stupid and illiterate people make a -dull fireside. Morbid faddists, always talking and thinking about -themselves, put the fire out altogether. If I were asked my opinion as -to the chief talent or gift for making a home happy, I should without -a moment’s hesitation, reply, “Cheerfulness.” A cheerful spirit, -always looking on the bright side, and determined to make the best of -everything, is the choicest blessing and the brightest charm of home. -People with a turn for grumbling should certainly live in hotels and -dine at restaurants. They will never understand how to make, or to -keep, a home as it should be. But, given a cheerful, equable, and -active temperament, there is nothing sweeter, happier or safer for -the human being than Home, and the life which centres within it, and -the duties concerning it which demand our attention and care. There -is no need for women to wander far afield for an outlet to their -energies. Their work waits for them at their own doors, in the town -or village where they reside. No end of useful, kind and neighbourly -things are to hand for their doing,--every day can be filled, like -a basket of flowers, full of good deeds and gentle words by every -woman, poor or rich, who has either cottage or mansion which she can -truly call “Home.” Home is a simple background, against which the star -of womanhood shines brightest and best. The modern “gad-about” who -suggests a composition of female chimpanzee and fashionable “Johnny” -combined, is a kind of sexless creature for whom “Home” would only be a -cage in the general menagerie. She (or It) would merely occupy the time -in scrambling about from perch to perch, screaming on the slightest -provocation, and snapping at such other similar neuter creatures who -chanced to possess longer or more bushy tails. And it is a pity such -an example should be thought worthy of imitation by any woman claiming -to possess the advantage of human reason. But the Chimpanzee type of -female is just now singularly _en evidence_, having a habit of pushing -to the front on all occasions, and performing such strange antics as -call for public protest, and keep the grinding machinery of the law -only too busy. The Press, too, pays an enormous amount of unnecessary -attention to the performances of these more or less immodest animals, -so that it sometimes seems to our Continental neighbours as if we, as -a nation, had no real women left, but only chimpanzees. There are, -however, slight stirrings of a movement among the true “ladies” of -England, those who stand more or less aloof from the “smart set,”--a -movement indicative of “drawing the line somewhere.” It is possible -that there may yet be a revival of “Home” and its various lost graces -and dignities. We may even hear of doors that will not open to -millionaires simply _because_ they are millionaires. Only the other day -a very great lady said to her sister in my hearing: “No, I shall not -‘present’ my two girls at all. Society is perfectly demoralised, and -I would rather the children remained out of it, so far as London is -concerned. They are much happier in the country than in town, and much -healthier, and I want to keep them so. Besides, they love their home!” - -Herein is the saving grace of life,--to love one’s home. Love of home -implies lovable people dwelling in the charmed circle,--tender hearts, -quick to respond to every word of love, every whisper of confidence, -every caress. The homeless man is the restless and unhappy man, for -ever seeking what he cannot find. The homeless woman is still more to -be pitied, being entirely and hopelessly out of her natural element. -And the marked tendency which exists nowadays to avoid home life is -wholly mischievous. Women complain that home is “dull,” “quiet,” -“monotonous,” “lonely,” and blame it for all sorts of evils which exist -only in themselves. If a woman cannot be a few hours alone without -finding her house “dull,” her mind must be on the verge of lunacy. -The sense of being unable to endure one’s own company augurs ill for -the moral equilibrium. To preserve good health and sound nerves, -women should always make it a rule to be quite alone at least for a -couple of hours in the course of each day. Let them take that space -to think, to read, to rest, and mentally review their own thoughts, -words and actions in the light of a quiet conscience-time of pause and -meditation. Home is the best place so to rest and meditate,--and the -hours that are spent in thinking how to make that home happier will -never be wasted. It should be very seriously borne in mind that it is -only in the home life that marriage can be proved successful or the -reverse, and, to quote Mr. Lecky once more: - - - “A moral basis of sterling qualities is of capital importance. A - true, honest and trustworthy nature, capable of self-sacrifice and - self-restraint, should rank in the first line, and after that, a - kindly, equable and contented temper, a power of sympathy, a habit - of looking at the better and brighter side of men and things. Of - intellectual qualities, judgment, tact and order, are perhaps the - most valuable.... Grace and the charm of manner will retain their - full attraction to the last. They brighten in innumerable ways - the little things of life, and life is mainly made up of little - things, exposed to petty frictions, and requiring small decisions - and small sacrifices. Wide interests and large appreciations - are in the marriage relation more important than any great - constructive or creative talent, and the power to soothe, to - sympathize, to counsel and to endure than the highest qualities - of the hero or the saint. It is by this alone that the married - life attains its full perfection.” - - -And when we hear, as we so often do, of the complete failure and -deplorable disaster attending many marriages, let us look for the -root of the evil at its foundation,--namely the decay of home life, -the neglect and avoidance of home and home duties,--the indifference -to, or scorn of home influence. For whenever any woman, rich or poor, -high in rank or of humble estate, throws these aside, and turns her -back on Home, her own natural, beautiful and thrice-blessed sphere of -action, she performs what would be called the crazed act of a queen, -who, called to highest sovereignty, casts away her crown, breaks her -sceptre, tramples on her royal robes, and steps from her throne, -_down_;--down into the dust of a saddened world’s contempt. - - - - -SOCIETY AND SUNDAY - - -According to the latest views publicly expressed by both Christian and -un-Christian clerics, it would appear that twentieth-century Society is -not at one with Sunday. It no longer keeps the seventh day “holy.” It -will not go to church. It declines to listen to dull sermons delivered -by dull preachers. It openly expresses its general contempt for the -collection-plate. It reads its ‘up-to-date’ books and magazines, and -says: “The Sabbath is a Jewish institution. And though the spirit of -the Jew pervades my whole composition and constitution, and though -I borrow money of the Jew whenever I find it convenient, there is -no reason why I should follow the Jew’s religious ritual. The New -Testament lays no stress whatever upon the necessity of keeping the -seventh day holy. On the contrary, it tells us that ‘the Sabbath was -made for man, not man for the Sabbath.’” - -This is true enough. It is a difficult point to get over. And despite -the fact that the sovereign rulers of the realm most strictly set the -example to all their subjects of attending Divine service at least once -on Sunday, this example is just the very one among the various leading -patterns of life offered by the King and Queen which Society blandly -sets aside with a smile. For, notwithstanding the constant painstaking -production of exquisitely printed Prayer-books, elegantly bound in -ivory, silver, morocco leather, and silk velvet, Society is not often -seen nowadays with these little emblems of piety in its be-ringed and -be-bangled hands. It prefers a pack of cards. Its ears are more attuned -to the hissing rush of the motor than to the solemn sound of sacred -psalmody; and the dust of the high-road, compounded with the oil-stench -of the newest and fastest automobile, offers a more grateful odour -to its nostrils than the perfume of virginal lilies on the altar of -worship. _Autres temps, autres mœurs!_ People who believe in nothing -have no need of prayer. A social “set” that grabs all it can for itself -without a thank-you to either God or devil is not moved to praise. Self -and the Hour! That is the motto and watchword of Society to-day, and -after Self and the Hour, what then? Why, the Deluge, of course! And, -as happened in olden time, and will happen again, general drowning, -stiflement, and silence. - -There is certainly much to regret and deplore in the lack of -serious thought, the neglect of piety, and the scant reverence for -sacred things which, taken together, make up a spirit of callous -indifferentism in our modern life, such as is likely to rob the nation -in future of its backbone and nerve. It is a spirit which is gradually -transforming the social community from thinking, feeling, reasonable -human beings into a mere set of gambolling kangaroos, whose chief -interest would seem to be centred in jumping over each other’s backs, -or sitting on their haunches, grinning foolishly and waving their short -fore-paws at one another with antic gestures of animal delight. They -never get any “forrader,” as it were. They do nothing particularly -useful. They are amused, annoyed, excited, or angry (according to their -different qualities of kangaroo nature) when one jumps a little higher -than the other, or waves its paws a little more attractively; but -their sentiments are as temporary as their passions. There is nothing -to be got out of them any way, but the jumping and the paw-waving. At -the same time it is extremely doubtful as to whether taking them to -church on Sundays would do them good, or bring them back to the human -condition. Things are too far gone--the metamorphosis is too nearly -accomplished. One day is the same as another to the Society kangaroo. -All days are suitable to his or her “hop, skip, and a jump.” But shall -there be no “worship”? What should a kangaroo worship? No “rest”? Why -should a kangaroo rest? “Listen to the Reverend Mr. Soulcure’s sermon, -and learn how to be good!” Ya-ah! One can hear the animal scream as he -or she turns a somersault at the mere suggestion and scuttles away! - -Society’s neglect of Sunday observance in these early days of the -new century is due to many things, chiefest among these being the -incapacity of the clergy to inspire interest in their hearers or to -fix the attention of the general public. It is unfortunate that this -should be so, but so it is. The ministers of religion fail to seize the -problems of the time. They forget, or wilfully ignore, the discoveries -of the age. Yet in these could be found endless subject-matter for the -divinest arguments. Religion and science, viewed broadly, do not clash -so much as they combine. To the devout and deeply studious mind, the -marvels of science are the truths of religion made manifest. But this -is what the clergy seem to miss persistently out of all their teaching -and preaching. Take, for example, the text: “In My Father’s house there -are many mansions.” What a noble discourse could be made hereon of -some of the most sublime facts of science!--of the powers of the air, -of the currents of light, of the magnificent movements of the stars in -their courses, of the plenitude and glory of innumerable solar systems, -all upheld and guided by the same Intelligent Force which equally -upholds and guides the destinies of man! Unhappily for the world in -general, and for the churches in particular, preachers who select -texts from Scripture in order to extract therefrom some instructive -lesson that shall be salutary for their congregations, do not always -remember the symbolic or allegorical manner in which such texts were -originally spoken or written. To many of them the “literal” meaning is -alone apparent, and they see in the “many mansions” merely a glorified -Park Lane or Piccadilly, adorned with rows of elegantly commonplace -dwelling-houses built of solid gold. Their conceptions of the “Father’s -house” are sadly limited. They cannot shake off the material from the -spiritual, or get away from themselves sufficiently to understand or -enter into the dumb craving of all human nature for help, for sympathy, -for love--for sureness in its conceptions of God--such sureness as -shall not run counter to the proved results of reason. For reason is -as much the gift of God as speech, and to kill one’s intellectual -aspiration in order, as some bigots would advise, to serve God more -completely is the rankest blasphemy. The wilful refusal to use a great -gift merely insults the Giver. - -It is by obstinately declining to watch the branching-out, as it -were, of the great tree of Christianity in forms which are not narrow -or limited, but spacious and far-reaching, that the clergy have in -a great measure lost much that they should have retained. Society -has slipped altogether from their hold. Society sees for itself that -too many clerics are either blatant or timorous. Some of them bully; -others crawl. Some are all softness to the wealthy; all harshness to -the poor. Others, again, devote themselves to the poor entirely, and -neglect the wealthy, who are quite as much, if not more, in need of -a “soul cure” as the most forlorn Lazarus that ever lay in the dust -of the road of life. None of them seem able to cope with the great -dark wave of infidelity and atheism which has swept over the modern -world stealthily, but overwhelmingly, sucking many a struggling soul -down into the depths of suicidal despair. And Society, making up its -mind that it is neither edified nor entertained by going to church on -Sunday, stays away, and turns Sunday generally to other uses. It is -not particular as to what these uses are, provided they prove amusing. -The old-fashioned notion of a “day of rest” or a “good” Sunday can be -set aside with the church and the clergyman; the one desirable object -of existence is “not to be bored.” The spectre of “boredom” is always -gliding in at every modern function, like the ghost of Banquo at -Macbeth’s feast. To pacify and quash this terrible bogie is the chief -aim and end of all the social kangaroos. The Sunday’s observance used -to be the bogie’s great “innings”; but, with an advance in manners and -morals, _nous avons changé tout cela_! And Society spends its Sundays -now in a fashion which, if its great-grandmamma of the early Victorian -era could only see its ways and doings, would so shock the dear, -virtuous old lady that she would yearn to whip it and shut it up in a -room for years on bread and water. And there is no doubt that such a -wholesome régime would do it a power of good! - -At the present interesting period of English history, Sunday appears -to be devoutly recognized among the Upper Ten as the great “bridge” -day. It is quite the fashion--the “swagger” thing--to play bridge -all and every Sunday, when and whenever possible. During the London -“season,” the Thames serves as a picturesque setting for many of these -seventh-day revelries. Little gambling-parties are organized “up the -river,” and houses are taken from Saturday to Monday by noted ladies of -the half-world, desirous of “rooking” young men, in the sweet seclusion -of their “country cots by the flowing stream”--an ambition fully -realized in the results of the Sunday’s steady play at bridge from noon -till midnight. At a certain military centre not far from London, too, -the Sunday “gaming” might possibly call for comment. It is privately -carried on, of course, but--tell it not in Gath!--there is an officer’s -wife--there are so many officers’ wives!--but this one in particular, -more than the others, moves me to the presumption of a parody on the -Immortal Bard, thus: - - - An officer’s wife had play-cards in her lap-- - And dealt and dealt. “What tricks!” quoth I! - “They’re tricks, you bet!” the smiling cheat replied-- - “My husband is ‘on duty’ gone, - And ‘green’ young subalterns are all my game, - And till they’re drained of gold and silver, too, - I’ll do, I’ll do, I’ll do!” - - -And she does “do.” She has found out the way to make those “green young -subalterns” pay her bills and ruin themselves. It is a thoroughly -up-to-date manner of spending the Sunday. - -Country-house “week-end” parties are generally all bridge-parties. -They are all carefully selected, with an eye to the main chance. The -“play” generally begins on Saturday evening, and goes on all through -Sunday up to midnight. One woman, notorious for her insensate love of -gambling, lately took lessons in “cheating” at bridge before joining -her country-house friends. She came away heavier in purse by five -hundred pounds, but of that five hundred, one hundred and fifty had -been won from a foolish little girl of eighteen, known to be the -daughter of a very wealthy, but strict father. When the poor child -was made to understand the extent of her losses at bridge, she was -afraid to go home. So she purchased some laudanum “for the toothache,” -and tried to poison herself by swallowing it. Fortunately, she was -rescued before it was too late, and her Spartan “dad,” with tears of -joy in his eyes, paid the money she had lost at cards thankfully, as -a kind of ransom to Death. But she was never again allowed to visit -at that “swagger” house where she had been “rooked” so unmercifully. -And when we remember how fond Society is of bragging of its little -philanthropies, its “bazaars” and carefully-calculated “charities,” we -may, perhaps, wonder whether, among the list of good and noble deeds -it declares itself capable of, it would set its face against bridge, -and make “gambling-parties” once for all unfashionable and in “bad -form”? This would be true philanthropy, and would be more productive -of good than any amount of regular church attendance. For there is no -doubt that very general sympathy is accorded to people who find that -going to church is rather an irksome business. It is not as if they -were often taught anything wonderfully inspiring or helpful there. They -seldom have even the satisfaction of hearing the service read properly. -The majority of the clergy are innocent of all elocutionary art. They -read the finest passages of Scripture in the sing-song tone of a clerk -detailing the items of a bill. It is a soothing style, and quickly -induces sleep; but that is its only recommendation. - -When not playing bridge, Society’s “Sunday observance” is motoring. -Flashing and fizzling all over the place, it rushes here, there, and -everywhere, creating infinite dust, smelling abominably, and looking -uglier than the worst demons in Dante’s “Inferno.” Beauty certainly -goes to the wall in a motor. The hideous masks, goggles, and caps -which help to make up the woman motorist’s driving gear, are enough -to scare the staunchest believer in the eternal attractiveness of the -fair sex, while the general get-up of the men is on a par with that of -the professional stoker or engine-driver. Nevertheless, no reasonable -woman ought to mind other women looking ugly if they like; while men, -of course, are always men, and “masters of the planet,” whether dirty -or clean. And no one should really object to the “motor craze,” seeing -that it takes so many useless people out of one’s immediate horizon -and scatters them far and wide over the surface of the earth. Society -uses Sunday as a special day for this “scattering,” and perhaps it -is doing itself no very great harm. It is getting fresh air, which -it needs; it is “going the pace,” which, in its fevered condition of -living fast, so as to die more quickly, is natural to it; and it is -seeing persons and places it never saw before in the way of country -nooks and old-fashioned roadside inns, and rustic people, who stare at -it with unfeigned amusement, and wonder “what the world’s a’-comin’ -to!” Possibly it learns more in a motor drive through the heart of -rural England than many sermons in church could teach it. The only -thing one would venture to suggest is that in passing its Sundays in -this fashion, Society should respect the Sundays of those who still -elect to keep the seventh day as a day of rest. Fashionable motorists -might avoid dashing recklessly through groups of country people who -are peacefully wending their way to and from church. They might “slow -down.” They might take thoughtful heed of the little children who play -unguardedly about in many a village street. They might have some little -consideration for the uncertain steps of feeble and old persons who -are perchance blind or deaf, and who neither see the “motor” nor hear -the warning blast of its discordant horn. In brief, it would not hurt -Society to spend its Sundays with more thought for others than Itself. -For the bulk and mass of the British people--the people who _are_ -Great Britain--still adhere to the sacred and blessed institution of a -“day of rest,” even if it be not a day of sermons. To thousands upon -thousands of toiling men and women, Sunday is still a veritable God’s -day, and we may thank God for it! Nay, more; we should do our very -best to keep it as “holy” as we can, if not by listening to sermons, -at least by a pause in our worldly concerns, wherein we may put a stop -on the wheels of work and consider within ourselves as to how and why -we are working. Sunday is a day when we should ask Nature to speak to -us and teach us such things as may only be mastered in silence and -solitude--when the book of poems, the beautiful prose idyll, or the -tender romance, may be our companion in summer under the trees, or -in winter by a bright fire--and when we may stand, as it were, for a -moment and take breath on the threshold of another week, bracing our -energies to meet with whatever that week may hold in store for us, -whether joy or sorrow. Few nations, however, view Sunday in this light. -On the Continent it has long been a day of mere frivolous pleasure--and -in America I know not what it is, never having experienced it. But the -British Sunday, apart from all the mockery and innuendo heaped upon it -by the wits and satirists of the present time and of bygone years, used -to be a strong and spiritually saving force in the national existence. -Dinner-parties, with a string band in attendance, and a Parisian -singer of the “café chantant” to entertain the company afterwards, were -once unknown in England on a Sunday. But such “Sabbath” entertainments -are quite ordinary now. The private house copies the public -restaurant--more’s the pity! - -Nevertheless, though Society’s Sunday has degenerated into a day of -gambling, guzzling, and motoring in Great Britain, it is well to -remember that Society in itself is so limited as to be a mere bubble -on the waters of life--froth and scum, as it were, that rises to the -top, merely to be skimmed off and thrown aside in any serious national -crisis. The People are the life and blood of the nation, and to them -Sunday remains still a “day of rest,” though, perhaps, not so much as -in old time a day of religion. And that it is not so much a day of -religion is because so many preachers have failed in their mission. -They have lost grip. There is no cause whatever for their so losing it, -save such as lies within themselves. There has been no diminution in -the outflow of truth from the sources of Divine instruction, but rather -an increase. The wonders of the universe have been unfolded in every -direction by the Creator to His creature. There is everything for the -minister of God to say. Yet how little is said! “Feed my sheep!” was -the command of the Master. But the sheep have cropped all the old ways -of thought down to the bare ground, and their inefficient shepherds -now know not where to lead them, though their Lord’s command is as -imperative as ever. So the flock, being hungry, have broken down the -fences of tradition, and are scampering away in disorder to fresh -fields and pastures new. Society may be, and is, undoubtedly to blame -for its lax manner of treating religion and religious observances; but, -with all its faults, it is not so blameworthy as those teachers of the -Christian faith, whose lack of attention to its needs and perplexities -help to make it the heaven-scorning, God-denying, heart-sore, weary, -and always dissatisfied thing it is. Society’s Sunday is merely a -reflex of Society’s own immediate mood--the mood of killing time at all -costs, even to the degradation of its own honour, for want of something -better to do! - - - - -THE “STRONG” BOOK OF THE ISHBOSHETH - - -There are two trite sayings in common use with us all--one is: -“Circumstances alter cases,” which is English; the other is: “Autres -temps, autres mœurs,” which is French. But there lacks any similar -epigrammatic expression to convey the complete and curious change of -meaning, which by a certain occult literary process becomes gradually -attached to quite ordinary words of our daily speech. “Strong,” for -instance, used to mean strength. It means it still, I believe, in the -gymnasium. But in very choice literary circles it means “unclean.” -This is strange, but true. For some time past the gentle and credulous -public has remained in childlike doubt as to what was really implied -by a “strong” book. The gentle and credulous public has been under the -impression that the word “strong” used by the guides, philosophers, and -friends who review current fiction in the daily Press, meant a powerful -style, a vigorous grip, a brilliant way of telling a captivating and -noble story. But they have, by slow and painful degrees, found out -their mistake in this direction, and they know now that a “strong” -book means a nasty subject indelicately treated. Whereupon they are -beginning to “sheer off” any book labelled by the inner critical -faculty as “strong.” This must be admitted as a most unfortunate -fact for those who are bending all their energies upon the writing -of “strong” books, and who are wasting their powers on discussing -what they euphoniously term “delicate and burning subjects”; but it -is a hopeful and blessed sign of increasing education and widening -intellectual perception in the masses, who will soon by their sturdy -common sense win a position which is not to be “frighted with false -fire.” Congratulating the proprietors of _Great Thoughts_ on its -thousandth number, the sapient _Westminster Gazette_ lately chortled -forth the following lines: “A career such as our contemporary has -enjoyed, shows that the taste for good reading is wider than some -would have us believe. We wish _Great Thoughts_ continued success.” -O wise judge! O learned judge! The public taste for good reading is -only questioned when writers whom Thou dislikest are read by the base -million! - -“Art,” says a certain M.A., “if it be genuine and sincere, tends ever -to the lofty and the beautiful. There is no rule of art more important -than the sense of modesty. Vice grows not a little by immodesty of -thought.” True. And immodesty of thought fulfils its mission in -the “strong” book, which alone succeeds in winning the applause of -that “Exclusive Set of Degenerates” known as the E.S.D. under the -Masonic Scriptural sign of ISHBOSHETH (laying particular emphasis on -the syllable between the “Ish” and the “eth,”) who manage to obtain -temporary posts on the ever-changeful twirling treadmill of the daily -press. The Ishbosheth singular is the man who praises the “strong” -book--the Ishbosheth in the plural are the Exclusive Set who are sworn -to put down Virtue and extol Vice. Hence the “strong” cult, also the -“virile.” This last excellent and expressive word has become seriously -maltreated in the hands of the Ishbosheth, and is now made answerable -for many sins which it did not originally represent. “Virile” is from -the Latin _virilis_, a male--virility is the state and characteristic -of the adult male. Applied to certain books, however, by the Ishbosheth -it will be found by the discerning public to mean coarse--rough--with -a literary “style” obtained by sprinkling several pages of prose with -the lowest tavern-oaths, together with the name of God, pronounced -“Gawd.” Anything written in that fashion is at once pronounced “virile” -and commands wide admiration from the Ishbosheth, particularly if it -should be a story in which women are depicted at the lowest kickable -depth of drab-ism to which men can drag them, while men are represented -as the suffering victims of their wickedness. This peculiar kind of -turncoat morality was, according to Genesis, instituted by Adam in -his cowardly utterance: “The woman tempted me,” as an excuse for his -own base greed; and it has apparently continued to sprout forth in -various of his descendants ever since that time, especially in the -community of the Ishbosheth. “Virility,” therefore, being the state and -characteristic of the adult male, or the adult Adam, means, according -to the Ishbosheth, men’s proper scorn for the sex of their mothers, and -an egotistical delight in themselves, united to a barbarous rejoicing -in bad language and abandoned morals. It does not mean this in decent -every-day life, of course; but it does in books--such books as are -praised by the Ishbosheth. - -“I don’t want one of your ‘strong’ books,” said a customer at one of -the circulating libraries the other day. “Give me something I can read -to my wife without being ashamed.” This puts the case in a nutshell. -No clean-minded man can read the modern “strong” book praised by the -Ishbosheth and feel quite safe, or even quite manly in his wife’s -presence. He will find himself before he knows it mumbling something -about the gross and fleshly temptations of a deformed gentleman with -short legs; or he will grow hot-faced and awkward over the narrative -of a betrayed milkmaid who enters into all the precise details of her -wrongs with a more than pernicious gusto. It is true that he will -probably chance upon no worse or more revolting circumstances of human -life than are dished up for the general Improvement of Public Morals in -our halfpenny dailies; but he will realize, if he be a man of sense, -that whereas the divorce court and police cases in the newspaper are -very soon forgotten, the impression of a “strong” book, particularly if -the “strong” parts are elaborately and excruciatingly insisted upon, -lasts, and sometimes leaves tracks of indelible mischief on minds -which, but for its loathsome influence, would have remained upright -and innocent. Thought creates action. An idea is the mainspring of an -epoch. Therefore the corrupters of thought are responsible for corrupt -deeds in an individual or a nation. From a noble thought--from a -selfless pure ideal--what great actions spring! Herein should the -responsibility of Literature be realized. The Ishbosheth, with their -“strong” books, have their criminal part in the visible putrescence -of a certain section of society known as the “swagger set.” Perhaps -no more forcible illustration of the repulsion exercised by nature -itself to spiritual and literary disease could be furnished than by -the death of the French “realist” Zola. Capable of fine artistic work, -he prostituted his powers to the lowest grade of thought. From the -dust-hole of the frail world’s ignorance and crime he selected his -olla-podrida of dirty scrapings, potato-peelings, candle-ends, rank -fat, and cabbage water, and set them all to seethe in the fire of -his brain, till they emitted noxious poison, and suffocating vapours -calculated to choke the channels of every aspiring mind and idealistic -soul. Nature revenged herself upon him by permitting him to be likewise -asphyxiated--only in the most prosy and “realistic” manner. It was one -of those terribly grim jests which she is fond of playing off on those -who blaspheme her sacred altars. A certain literary aspirant hovering -on the verge of the circle of the Ishbosheth, complained the other day -of a great omission in the biography of one of his dead comrades of the -pen. “They should have mentioned,” he said, “that he allowed his body -to _swarm with vermin_!” This is true Ishbosheth art. Suppress the fact -that the dead man had good in him, that he might have been famous had -he lived, that he had some notably strong points in his character, but -_don’t_ forget, for Heaven’s sake, to mention the “vermin”! For the -Ishbosheth “cult” see nothing in a sunset, but much in a flea. - -Hence when we read the criticism of a “strong” book, over the signature -of one of the Ishbosheth, we know what to expect. All the bad, low, -villainous and soiled side of sickly or insane human nature will be in -it, and nothing of the healthful or sound. For, to be vicious is to -be ill--to commit crime is to be mentally deformed--and the “strong” -book of the Ishbosheth only deals with phases of sickness and lunacy. -There are other “strong” books in the world, thank Heaven--strong -books which treat strongly of noble examples of human life, love -and endeavour--books like those of Scott and Dickens and Brontë and -Eliot--books which make the world all the better for reading them. But -they are not books admired of the Ishbosheth. And as the Ishbosheth -have their centres in the current press, they are not praised in the -newspapers. Binding as the union of the Printers is all over the -world, I suppose they cannot take arms against the Ishbosheth and -decline to print anything under this Masonic sign? If they could, -what a purification there would be--what a clean, refreshing world -of books--and perhaps of men and women! No more vicious heroes with -short legs; no more painfully-injured milkmaids; no more “twins,” -earthly or heavenly--while possibly a new _Villette_ might bud and -blossom forth--another _Fortunes of Nigel_, another brilliant _Vanity -Fair_--and books which contain wit without nastiness, tenderness -without erotics, simplicity without affectation, and good English -without slang, might once again give glory to literature. But this -millennium will not be till the “strong” book of the Ishbosheth ceases -to find a publisher, and the Ishbosheth themselves are seen in their -true colours, and fully recognized by the public to be no more than -they are--a mere group of low sensualists, who haunt Fleet Street -bars and restaurants, and who out of that sodden daily and nightly -experience get a few temporary jobs on the Press, and “pose” as a cult -and censorship of art. And fortunately the very phrase “strong book” -has become so much their own that it has now only to be used in order -to warn off the public from mere pot-house opinion. - - - - -ON THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS - - -Great Poets discover themselves. Little Poets have to be “discovered” -by somebody else. Otherwise they would live and die in the shadow -of decent obscurity, unheard, unseen, unknown. And it is seriously -open to question whether their so living and dying would not be an -advantage to society in the abating of a certain measure of boredom. -Looking back upon the motley crowd of Little Poets who had their day of -“discovery” and “boom” at the very period when the thunderous voice of -the Muse at her grandest was shaking the air through the inspired lips -of Byron, Shelley and Keats, and noting to what dusty oblivion their -little names and lesser works are now relegated without regret, it is -difficult to understand why they were ever dragged from the respectable -retirement of common-place mediocrity by their critic-contemporaries. -Byron was scorned, Shelley neglected, and Keats killed by these same -critics;--neither of the three were “discovered” or “made.” Their -creation was not of man, but of their own innate God-given genius, -and, according to the usual fate attending such divine things, the -fastidious human _dilettante_ of their day would have none of them. He -set up his own verse-making Mumbo-Jumbo; and one Pye was Laureate. Pye -was Laureate,--yet Byron lived, and there was a reigning monarch in -England, strange as these assorted facts will seem to all intellectual -posterity. For a monarch’s word,--even a prince’s word,--must always -carry a certain weight of influence, and one asks wonderingly how, -under such circumstances, that word came to be left unsaid? No voice -from the Throne called the three greatest geniuses of the era to -receive any honour due to their rare gifts and quality. On the contrary -they were cast out as unvalued rubbish from their native land, and -the Little Poets had their way. Pye continued to write maudlin rhymes -unmolested, never dreaming that the only memory we should keep of him -or of his twaddle, would be the one scathing line of the banished Byron: - - - Better to err with Pope than shine with Pye! - - -And feeble penny whistles played trumpery tunes to the languid votaries -of “cultchaw” in those days, and pennywhistle verse was voted “classic” -and supreme; but ever and anon the Nation turned a listening ear across -the seas and caught the music made by its outlawed singers,--music -it valued even then, and treasures now among its priceless and -imperishable glories. For the Nation knows what true Poetry is,--and no -“discoverer” will ever force it to accept a tallow candle for a star. - -The gulf between Great Poets and Little is a wide one,--wider than -that which yawned between Lazarus in heaven and Dives in hell. The -Great Poet is moved by an inspiration which he himself cannot analyse, -and in which neither the desire of money nor the latent hope of fame -have the chiefest part. He sings simply because he must sing. He does -not labour at it, piecing his thoughts and words together with the -tardy and tame patience of a worker in mosaics, for though such exact -execution be admirable in mosaic-work, it is dull and lifeless in -poetry. Colour, fire, music, passion, and intense, glowing vitality are -the heritage of the Great Poet; and when the torrent of unpremeditated -love-song, battle-chant, dirge and prophecy pours from his lips, the -tired world slackens its pace to listen, and listening, silently crowns -him Laureate in its heart of hearts, regardless of Prime Minister or -Court Chamberlain. But the Little Poet is not able so to win attention; -he cannot sing thus “wildly well” because he lacks original voice. -He can only trim a sorry pipe of reed and play weak echoes thereon; -derivative twists of thought and borrowed fancies caught up from the -greater songs already ringing through the centuries. And when he -first begins piping in this lilliputian fashion he is generally very -miserable. He pipes “for pence; Ay me, how few!” Nobody listens; people -are too much engrossed with their own concerns to care about echoes. -Their attention can only be secured by singing them new songs that will -stir their pulses to new delights. The too-tootling of the Little Poet, -therefore, would never be noticed at all, even by way of derision, -unless he went down on all-fours and begged somebody to “discover” him. -The “discoverer” in most cases is a Superannuated-literary-gentleman, -who has tried his own hand at poetry and failed ignominiously. -Incapacity to do any good work of one’s own frequently creates a -thirsty desire to criticize the work of other people; thus, in the -intervals of his impotent rage at the success of the deserving, the -Superannuated, resolved to push himself into notice somehow, takes to -“discovering” Little Poets. It is his poor last bid for fame; a final -forlorn effort to get his half-ounce of talent to the front by tacking -it on to some new name which he thinks (and he is quite alone in the -idea) may by the merest chance in the world, like a second-rate horse, -win a doubtful race. To admire any Great Poet who may happen to exist -among us, is no part of the Superannuated’s programme. He ignores Great -Poets generally, fearing lest the mere mention of their names should -eclipse his dwarfish nurslings. - -Now the public, mistakenly called fools, are perfectly aware of the -Superannuated. They see his signature affixed to many of the Little -Poets Booms, and ask each other with smiling tolerance, “What has he -done?” Nothing. “Oh! Then how does he know?” Ah, that is his secret! He -thinks he knows; and he wants you, excellent Fool-Public, to believe he -thinks he knows! And, under the pleasing delusion that you always have -your Fool’s Cap on, and never take it off under any circumstances, he -“discovers” Mr. Podgers for you. Who is Mr. Podgers? A poet. If we are -to credit the Superannuated, he is “a new star on the literary horizon, -of the first magnitude.” The “first magnitude”!--the public shakes its -caps and bells in amused scepticism. Another Shelley? Another Byron? -These were of the “first magnitude,” and shall we thank a bounteous -heaven for one more such as these? No, no, nothing of the sort, says -the Superannuated with indignation, for it is high time you put this -sort of Shelley-Byron stuff behind you. Mr. Swinburne has distinctly -said that “Byron was no poet.” Learn wisdom, therefore, and turn from -Byron to Podgers. He has written a little book, has Podgers, for which -those who desire to possess it must pay a sum out of all proportion to -its size. What shall we find in this so-little book? Anything to make -our hearts beat in more healthful and harmonious tune? No. Nothing -of this in Podgers. Nothing, in fact, of any kind in Podgers which -we have not heard before. There are a few lines that we remember as -derived from Wordsworth, and one stanza seems to us like a carefully -transposed bit of Tennyson;--but for anything absolutely new in thought -or in treatment we search in vain. Unless we make exception for a -set of verses which are a tribute to the art of Log-Rolling, namely -Podgers’s “Ode” to Podgers’s favouring critic. We confess this to be -somewhat of a novelty, and we begin to pity Podgers. He must have -fallen very low to write (and publish) an “Ode” to the Superannuated, -his chief flatterer on the Press, and he must be very short-sighted if -he imagines that action is a millstone _without_ a hole in it. And so, -despite the loud eulogies of the Superannuated (who is naturally proud -to be made the subject of any “Ode” however feeble) we do not purchase -Podgers’s book, though it is urged upon us as being a “limited” -edition. But the Superannuated is not herein baffled. If, he says, -if you are so asinine, so crass, so dull and dense of comprehension -as to reject this marvellous, this classic Podgers, what say you to -Stodgers? Stodgers is a “young” poet (forty-five last birthday), -entirely free from “manner” and manners. He has resorted to the last -and lowest method employed by Little Poets for obtaining temporary -notoriety, namely,--outraging decency. Coarseness and blasphemy are -the prevailing themes of his verse, but to the Superannuated these -grave blemishes constitute “power.” A “strong” line is a lewd line; a -“masterful” stanza contains a prurient suggestion. It suits the purpose -of the Superannuated to compare his two “discoveries,” Podgers and -Stodgers, and to work them against each other in those quarters of the -Press he controls, like the “toy millers” one buys for children. It is -a case of “Podgers come up and Stodgers come down,” as fits his humour -and digestion. Meanwhile the vital test of the whole matter is that -notwithstanding all this energetic “hawking about” of the Little Poets -by the Superannuated, neither Podgers nor Stodgers _sell_. Everything -is done to secure for them this desired result; unavailingly. And it -is not as if they came out in a “common” way, Podgers and Stodgers. No -publishing-firm with a simple name such as Messrs. Smith or Brown would -suit the Little Poets. They must come out singularly, and apart from -others. So they elect a publisher who, as it were, puts up a sign, as -though he were a Tavern. “Published at the Dragon’s Mouth” or “At the -Sign of the Flagon” would seem to be more convincing than “Published by -Messrs. So and So.” Now Podgers’s little book has a fanciful title-page -stating that it is published at the “Goose and Gridiron.” Stodgers, -we find, bursts upon the world at “The Blue Boar.” There is something -very delusive about all this. A flavour of ale and mulled wine -creeps insidiously into the air, and we are moved to yearn for good -warm drinks, whereas we only get indifferent cold verse. Now if the -proprietors of the “Goose and Gridiron” and the “Blue Boar” would only -sell inspiring liquids instead of uninspired rhymes, how their trade -would improve! No longer would they bend, lean and furrowed, over their -account-books--no longer would they have to scheme and puzzle over the -“making” of Little Poets; because it must not be imagined that the -Superannuated “discoverer” is the only one concerned in the business. -“Goose and Gridiron” and “Blue Boar” have to deal in many small tricks -of trade to compass it. Of course it is understood that the Little -Poets get no money out of their productions. What they stipulate for -with “Blue Boar” and likewise with “Goose and Gridiron” is a “hearing.” -This “hearing” is obtained variously. Podgers got it in this way, as -followeth: His verses, which had appeared from time to time in Sunday -papers and magazines, were issued in a “limited edition.” Such “limited -edition” was at once dispersed among booksellers in different parts of -the country “on sale or return,” and while thus doubtfully awaiting -purchasers, “Goose and Gridiron” tipped the trade-wink and perhaps -something else more substantial besides, to the Superannuated,--who -straightway seized his pen and wrote: “We hear that the first edition -of Mr. Podgers’s poems is exhausted, and that original copies are -already at a premium.” This done, and “passed” through many papers, -the publisher followed it up with an advertisement to the effect that -“The first edition of Mr. Podgers’s poems being exhausted, a Second -will be ready in a few days.” And here, it may as well be said for -the rectitude of “Goose and Gridiron,” things came to a standstill. -Because the Little Poets seldom get beyond a second edition. When -Podgers’s first editions came back unsold from the provinces (as they -did), attempts were made to dispose of them at fancy prices as a last -resource,--such attempts naturally ending in disaster. The times are -too hard, and people have too much to do with their money to part with -any of it for first editions of Podgers or Stodgers. The public is a -very shrewd one, moreover, and is not to be “taken in” by gnat-rhymers -dancing up and down for an hour in the “discoverer’s” artificial -sunbeams. And the Superannuated, in his eager desire to assert himself -as an oracular personage, forgets one very important fact, and this is, -that being a Nobody he cannot be accepted as warrant for a Somebody. -The public is not his child; he cannot whip it into admiring Mr. -Podgers, or coerce its judgment respecting Mr. Stodgers. Its ways -are wilful, and it has a ridiculous habit (considering what a Fool -the critic imagines it to be) of preferring its own opinion to that -of the Superannuated. It is capable, it thinks, what with Compulsory -Education and the rest of it, of making its own choice. And on the -whole it prefers the Great Poet,--the man who scorns to be “discovered” -by an inferior intellect, and who makes his own way independently and -with a grand indifference to the squabbling of Log-rollers. He is not -“made”; he forms part of the country’s blood and life; he chants the -national thought in haunting rhythm as did the prophet bards of old; -he, careless of “pence,” praise or fame, does so mix himself with his -land’s history, that he becomes, as it were the very voice of the age -in which he lives, and the Superannuated may ignore him as he will, -he cannot get him out of the nation’s heart when he has once got in. -But of the feeble, absurdly conceited tribe of Little Poets who come -jostling one upon another nowadays in such a puling crowd, piping out -their wretchedly small personalities in versed pessimism or coarse -metaphor,--men “made” by the Tavern-publisher and the Superannuated -Failure;--we have had enough of these, and more than enough. Too much -good paper, good ink and good binding are wasted on their totally -undesired productions. Life with us now is lived at too hard and too -difficult a pace for any one to need poetry that is _only_ verse. -Hearts break every day in the truest sense of that sentimental phrase; -brains reel into insanity and the darkness of suicide; and it is no -Little Poet’s personal pangs about “pence” and such trifles, that can, -like David’s harp of old, soothe or dismiss the dark spirit brooding -over the latter-day Saul. It is the Great Poet we care for, whose -singing-soul mystically comprehends our unuttered thoughts of love or -glory; who chants not only his pains, but ours; not his joy, so much as -the whole world’s joy. Such a man needs no “discoverer” to prove his -existence; he is self-evident. When we grow so purblind as to need a -still blinder Mole to point us out the sun, then, but not till then -shall we require the assistance of the Superannuated to “discover” what -we understand by a Poet. At present we are actively conscious both of -the orb of day, and the true quality of genius; and though the Poet we -choose for ourselves and silently acknowledge as worthy of all honour, -may not be, and seldom is, the recommended favourite of a clique, we -are fully aware of him, and show our love and appreciation by setting -his book among our household gods. No “limited edition” will suffice -for such a man; we need to have his poems singing about us wherever we -go. For the oft-repeated truth is to-day as true as ever,--that the -Great Poet is “born,” and never has been and never will be “made.” - - - - -THE PRAYER OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P. - -WHICH HE PRAYETH DAILY - - -O thou Especial Little God of Parliaments and Electors, with whom the -greater God of the Universe has nothing whatever to do!--I beseech Thee -to look upon me, Thy chosen servant, with a tolerant and favourable Eye! - -Consider with Leniency the singular and capricious Chance which has -enabled me to become a Member of the Government, and grant me Thy -protection, so that my utter Incapacity for the Post may never be -discovered! Enable me, I implore Thee, to altogether dispense with -the assistance of a certain Journalist and Press-Reporter in the -composition of my Speeches! His Terms are high, and I am not sure of -his Discretion! - -Impart unto me by spiritual telegraphy such Knowledge of the general -Situation of Affairs that I may be able to furnish forth an occasional -Intelligent Remark to the farmers of this Constituency, whose Loyalty -to the Government is as firm as their Trust in the Power of Beer! -Give me the grace of such shallow Profundity and Pretension as -shall convince Rustic minds of my complete Superiority to them in -matters concerning their Interest and Welfare; and teach me to use -their Simplicity for the convenient furtherance of my own Cunning! -Fill me with such necessary and becoming Arrogance as shall make me -overbearingly insolent to Persons of Intellect, while yet retaining -that sleek Affability which shall cause me to appear a Fawning Flunkey -to Persons of Rank! Enable me to so condescendingly patronize the -Electors who gave me their Majority that it shall seem I was returned -through Merit only, and not through Bribes and Beer! And mercifully -defend me, O Beneficent little Deity, from all possibility of ever -being called upon to address the House! I am no speaker,--and even if I -were, I have no Ideas whereon to hang a fustian sentence! Thou Knowest, -All-Knowing-One, that I have not so much as an Opinion, save that it -is good for me, in respect of Social Advantage, to write M.P. after -my name! And surely Thou dost also know that I have paid Two Thousand -Pounds for the purchase of this small portion of the Alphabet, making -One Thousand Pounds per letter, which may humbly be submitted to Thee, -O Calculating Ruler of Parliamentary Elections, as somewhat dear! - -But I have accepted these Conditions and paid the Sum without -murmuring; therefore of Thy goodness, be pleased to spare me from the -utterance of even one word in the presence of my peers, concerning any -Matter for the Advancement of Which I have been elected! For lo,--if -I said as much as “Yea,” it might be ill-advised; and yet again, if I -said “Nay,” it might be ill-timed! Inasmuch as I am compelled to rely -on the Journalist and Press-Reporter before mentioned, for whatsoever -knowledge of matters political I possess, and it is just possible -that he might,--through an extra dose of whisky-soda,--mislead me -by erroneous information! O Lord of Press-Agencies and Grub Street -Eating-Houses, if it be possible unto Thee, relieve me of this Man! -He charges more, so I am credibly informed, per Hundred Words than -any other Inventor of Original Eloquence in the pay of the Unlettered -and Inarticulate of the House! And it is much to be feared that he -does not always keep his own Counsel! Wherefore, gracious Deity, I -would be Released with all convenient Speed from the Exercise of -his Power! Rather than be constantly compelled to rely upon this -Journalistic Wretch for Advice and Instruction, it will more conduce -to my Comfort,--though possibly to my Fatigue,--to commit to Memory -such portions of long-forgotten speeches spoken by Defunct Members of -the House in the Past, as may be found suitable to the present needs -of the Rural Population. The Corn-growing and Cattle-breeding Electors -will not know from what Sources I derive my Inspiration, and the Editor -of the Local Newspaper has not yet taken a degree in Scholarship. -Moreover, the Dead are happily unable to send in any Claim for Damages -against the Theft of their Ideas, which are as free to Independent -Pilferers as the Original Plots of New and Successful Romances are -free to the Dramatizing Robbers in the Stage-Purlieus, thanks to the -Admirable Attitude of Dignified Indolence assumed by that Government to -which I, one Fool out of Many, have the honour to belong! - -Finally, O Beneficent Lilliputian Deity which governeth matters -Parliamentary,--grant me such a sufficient amount of highly-respectable -Mendacity as shall enable me to pass successfully for what I am not, at -least, so far as Society in the Country is concerned! Fully aware am I, -O Lord, that a Simulation of Ability will not always meet with approval -in Town, though it has been occasionally known to do so! Therefore I am -well content to sit in the House as one MUM, thus representing through -myself an inaudible County! But in the County itself it shall seem -to the Uninitiated that my thoughts are too deep for speech; while I -retain in my own mind the knowledge of the Fact that my Humbug is too -great for Expression! - -To Thee, gentle yet capricious Deity, I commend all my Desires, -praying Thee to keep the people whom I represent as Dumb and Inert as -myself in matters concerning their own Welfare, for if they should -chance to consider the Situation by the light of Common Sense, -and me by the shrewd Appreciation of a Native Wit, it might occur -to them to prefer a Man rather than a Wooden-headed Nonentity to -Proclaim their Existence to the King’s faithful Commons! Wherefore, -at the next General Election I should lose my Seat,--which would -be Disagreeable to me personally, as well as a Cause of Rage in my -Wife, to whom my present Condition of a Parliamentary Microbe is -much more important and advantageous than it is to the Country! And -Thou knowest, O Lord, that when my Wife is moved by the Impetuous -Persuasion of a difficult Temper, it is necessary for me, by reason -of her Superior Height, Size, and Aggressiveness, to retire from the -domestic Fighting-ground, considerably worsted in the unequal Combat. -Protect me, merciful Deity, from her Tongue!--which is as a Sword to -slay all thoughts of Peace! And, concerning the accursed, ubiquitous -Journalist-Reporter-Paragraphist-Correspondent-Attached-to-all-Newspapers -Man, who, for my sins, wrote my “speech to the Electors” at a high -charge, and agreed,--and therefore expects,--to write all my other -public utterances on the same terms, I beseech Thee, when he next waits -upon me with his Bill, ready to Counsel or to Command, grant me the -Strength and Courage to tell a more barefaced Lie than is habitual to -me, and to boldly say that I can do Without him! - - -AMEN! - - - - -THE THANKSGIVING OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P’s WIFE, - -WHICH SHE OFFERETH WEEK-END-LY - - -To Thee, O Bland and Blessëd Deity of Surplus Cash and Social -Advancement, whose favours are never bestowed upon the Poor or the -Wise, but only on the Rich and the Foolish, I give praise, honour and -glory! - -I thank Thee that Thou hast made of that Supreme Ass, my Husband, a -Member of the Government, so that, despite his utter Lack of Wit and -Hopeless Incompetency, he may at least pass muster for having Brains in -a particularly Brainless Constituency! - -I acknowledge Thy mercy and goodness in permitting that for the -moderate cost of Two Thousand Pounds and upwards,--a sum not greatly -in excess of my dressmaker’s annual bill,--I may set my foot on the -two dumb and prostrate Letters of the Alphabet now attached to my said -Husband’s new calling and Election, and may mount thereon to those -heights of County Society where, ever since I was born I have eagerly -thirsted to be! For though County Society be often duller than the -fabled Styx, nevertheless the leaden weight of its Approval is as -necessary to my special comfort and welfare as the Gilded chain of -Office is to the swelling chest of a Provincial Mayor. Thou knowest, -O little Lord of Communities Narrow, Parochial and Politic, that I am -called, even by the Profanest of Press-Reporters, “a fine figure of a -woman,” and that I am deserving of Public Notice and Commendation, not -only for my Physical Attractions, but for my Social Qualifications, -which, despite the fact that Fate has wedded me to a Fool, have enabled -me to successfully represent the said Fool to his bovine Electors as -an Intelligent Personality! Great is the Tact which is needed to palm -off a Sparrow for an Eagle, a Mouse for an Elephant, or a Donkey for -a Statesman! But I swear to Thee, O Thou gracious Little Neptune who -ruleth that Limited Ocean called the “Society Swim” that I am equal -to all this and more! Thou seest me as I am, a Fashionable Feminine -Insincerity! Thou beholdest the subtle cleverness of my Social Smile, -which radiates sweetly upon the faces of such persons as I conceive -may be useful in Election times, but which fades into a Supercilious -Sneer when I discover, as I often do, that many of these persons are -unblushingly “of no political party,” and have no interest whatever in -keeping my Husband in His Seat! Now if my Husband were not in His Seat, -I should become that most deplorable of human beings, a Provincial -Nonentity! Hence arises my natural and lawful Desire that in His Seat -my Husband shall remain, inasmuch as were he left without a Seat, I -should be left without a “Set”! - -But thanks be unto Thee, O Thou amiable and complaisant God of the -British Social Status, there seems to be at present no cause for -alarm that the Rustics whom my Husband, with unintelligent dumbness -represents in the House of Commons will ever Rise! Chiefly inspired -as they are by Drugged Beer, it is safe to presume that they will -not easily awaken from their Public-House Torpor, or in a species of -vulgar “horse-play” pull my Husband’s seat from under him,--even as -a lubberly child pulls away a chair from the Unsuspecting Visitor -who would fain sit down upon it,--and so precipitate my Husband -into the unenviable rank of Unimportant Provincials! I myself am -ready to guarantee,--always with Thy support, O Favourer of Paid -Parliamentary Press-Puffery,--that so dire a Catastrophe as this shall -not happen! For My weight,--which is both materially and mentally -Considerable,--would have to be thrown into the Balance,--whereby -the tottering Seat, even if partially overthrown, would, and -needs Must,--under the force of my impetuous Clutch,--regain the -Perpendicular! - -Being by unredeemed nature a Stupid Woman, I acknowledge freely and -with gratitude Thy Omnipotent Guidance in Matters purely Snobbish! I -praise and bless Thee for showing me the quickest way out of Things -Intellectual into Things Conventional! I thank Thee for Thy unfailing -assistance afforded to me in the beaten paths of County Flunkeydom, -wherein I walk with virtuous circumspection, taking care to leave my -impressive Visiting-Cards and likewise those of my Husband, on Houses -only, and never on People! For People may be dangerous acquaintances, -while Houses never are. A Family Residence is always more respectable -than a Family! - -I give Thee glory that I am made of such stubborn Flesh and Quality as -never to recognize that any other Woman exists who, by the Inconvenient -Attributes of Either Beauty, Wit or Intelligence, deserves to be -considered my Superior, and that when any such Intrusive and Obtrusive -Female is accidentally forced upon my Notice, I have the good sense -to diplomatically ignore Her. I am gratefully conscious that the -Meaningless Insipidity of my Manner has favourably impressed the -Uneducated Majority of my Husband’s Constituents. And also, that having -once obtained their Unreasoning Votes, their Bucolic Lethargy is such, -that I need do little further to retain their Credulous Admiration save -to put in an Occasional Well-Dressed Appearance at a “local” Bazaar, -or Charity Ball. Concerning any aims or hopes they may, in their -blundering Dulness, have ever entertained towards the Betterment of -their Condition, and the Representation of these Addle-pated desires to -His Majesty’s Government, I am as Profoundly Indifferent as my Husband -is Voluntarily Ignorant. For, as the larger number of the Faithful -Commons are aware, no Act is more fatal to the Social Prestige and -County Influence of a Member of the House, than that he should, when in -office, fulfil the Rash Promises made to his Electors during a Critical -state of the Poll! Inasmuch as the only Reasonable object to be -attained by the Purchase of the Letters M. and P. is the Betterment of -One’s Self and One’s Social Position on the lines of such Conventional -Hypocrisies as are agreeable to the Best County Houses. For the taking -of any bold or conspicuous part in any National Matter of Interest or -Importance has long been sagaciously avoided by every County Member -who desires to retain His Seat. And that one Man should do what his -Colleagues dare not attempt, would be a Heroism which, thanks unto -Thee, O Prudent Presiding Deity of Grandmotherly Westminster, is -fortunately not to be expected of my Husband! - -Finally I thank Thee, O Wise and All-Discerning, for the Gracious -Consolation which Thou hast imparted unto me in the fact that though my -Husband is the Embodiment of county Vacuity, the Majority of the King’s -Faithful Commons are as Vacuous as He! For, as in the multitude of Ants -in an Anthill, One insect more industrious or intelligent than the -rest is not easily discovered, even so, in the goodly array of Stupid -Members, the Stupidest of them all may conveniently sit in his Seat -without public Comment. - -And for the Constant Enjoyment of my own Admitted Position -among the Tea-Drinking, Fox-Hunting and Bucolic _élite_ of the -Neighbourhood,--for the graceful Ease with which I assume to be what -I am not, by reason of the Two Letters attached to my Husband’s -Name, which gives much more importance to Me than to Him,--and for -the general comfortable Self-Assertiveness in which I live and -move and have my being, I bless Thee, O Potent little Deity of the -Polling-Booth, and acknowledge Thy Manifold Mercies! May the Seat of my -Husband continue firm in Thy Sight, unmoved by any Popular Caprice of -the Vulgar, until such time as my eldest Hopeful Son, the very pattern -of His Father, shall slip into it Unopposed after Him, and so preserve -in those Unsophisticated Rural Districts whereby we are surrounded, the -Unblemished Honour of a Unique Reputation for Highly Educated Political -Incompetence in this Advanced and Enlightened Age! - - -AMEN! - - - - -THE VANISHING GIFT - - -The unseen rulers of human destiny are, on the whole, very kindly -Fates. They appear beneficently prone to give us mortals much more -than we deserve. Gifts of various grace and value are showered upon -us incessantly through our life’s progress,--gifts for which we are -too often ungrateful, or which we fail to appreciate at their true -worth. Apart from the pleasures of the material senses which we share -in common with our friends and fellows of the brute creation, the more -delicate and exquisite emotions of the mind are ministered to with -unfailing and fostering care. Music--Poetry, Art in all its brilliant -and changeful phases,--these things are offered for the delectation of -our thoughts and the refinement of our tastes; but the most priceless -boon of the Immortals is the talisman which alone enables us to -understand the beauty of life at its highest, and the perfection of -ideals at their best. I mean Imagination,--that wonderful spiritual -faculty which is the source of all great creative work in Art and -Literature. Some call it “Inspiration”; others, the Divine Fire; but -whatever its nature or quality, there is good cause to think--and to -fear--that it is gradually dwindling down and disappearing altogether -from the world of to-day. - -The reasons for this are not very far to seek. We are living in -an age of feverish unrest and agitation. If we could picture a -twentieth century Satan appearing before the Almighty under the -circumstances described in the Book of Job, to answer the question, -“Whence comest thou?”--the same reply would suit not only his, but -our condition--“From going to and fro in the earth, and wandering up -and down within it.” We are always going to and fro in these days. We -are forever wandering up and down. Few of us are satisfied to remain -long in the same place, among the same surroundings--and in this way -the foundations of home life,--formerly so noble and firm a part of -our national strength--are being shaken and disorganized. A very -great majority of us appear to be afflicted with the chronic disease -of Hurry, which generally breeds a twin ailment--Worry. We have no -time for anything somehow. We seem to be always under the thrall of -an invisible policeman, commanding us to “Move on!” And we do move -on, like the tramps we are becoming. Moreover, we have decided that -we cannot get over the ground quickly enough on the limbs with which -Nature originally provided us--so we spin along on cycles, and dash -about on motor cars. And it is confidently expected that by-and-by -the mere earth will not be good enough for us, and that we shall -“scorch” through the air--when a great change may be looked for in -house accommodation. People will return, it is said, to the early -cave dwellings, in order to avoid the massacre likely to be caused by -tumbling air-ships over which the captains have lost control. - -There is something humourous in all this modern hurry-skurry; something -almost grotesque in this desire for swift movement--this wish to save -time and to stint work;--but there is something infinitely pathetic -about it as well. It is as if the present Period of the world’s -civilization felt itself growing old--as if, like an individual human -unit, it knew itself to be past its prime and drawing nigh to death, -as if,--with the feeble restlessness of advancing age, it were seeking -to cram as much change and amusement as possible into the little time -of existence left to it. Two of the most notable signs of such mental -and moral decay are, a morbid craving for incessant excitement, and a -disinclination to think. It is quite a common thing nowadays to hear -people say, “Oh, I have no time to think!”--and they seem to be more -proud than ashamed of their loss of mental equilibrium. But it is very -certain that where there is no time to think, there is less time to -imagine--and where there is neither thought nor imagination, creative -work of a high and lasting quality is not possible. - -We, in our day, are fortunate in so far that we are the inheritors -of the splendid work accomplished in the youth and prime of all that -we know of civilization. No doubt there were immense periods beyond -our ken, in which the entire round of birth, youth, maturity, age and -death, was fulfilled by countless civilizations whose histories are -unrecorded--but we can only form the faintest guess at this, through -the study of old dynasties which, ancient as they are, may perhaps be -almost modern compared to the unknown empires which have utterly passed -away beyond human recovery. But if we care to examine the matter, we -shall find among all nations, that as soon as a form of civilization -has emerged from barbarism, like a youth emerging from childhood, it -has entered on its career with a glad heart and a poetic soul,--full of -ideals, and richly endowed with that gift of the gods--Imagination. It -has invariably expressed itself as being reverently conscious of the -Highest source of all creation; and its utterance through all its best -work and achievement can be aptly summed up in Wordsworth’s glorious -lines:-- - - - Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting-- - The Soul that rises with us, our life’s star - Hath had elsewhere its setting, - And cometh from afar,-- - Not in entire forgetfulness, - And not in utter nakedness, - But trailing clouds of glory do we come, - From God who is our home! - - -While these “trailing clouds of glory” still cling to the soul, the -limits of this world,--the mere dust and grime of material things,--do -not and cannot satisfy it; it must penetrate into a realm which is -of its own idea and innate perception. There it must itself create a -universe, and find expression for its higher thought. To this resentful -attitude of the soul against mere materialism, we owe all art, all -poetry, all music. Every great artistic work performed outside the -needs of material and physical life may be looked upon as a spiritual -attempt to break open the close walls of our earthly prison-house and -let a glimpse of God’s light through. - -As a matter of fact, everything we possess or know of to-day, is -the visible outcome of a once imagined possibility. It has been -very grandly said that “the Universe itself was once a dream in the -mind of God.” So may we say that every scientific law, every canon -of beauty--every great discovery--every splendid accomplishment was -once a dream in the mind of man. All the religions of the world, with -their deep, beautiful, grand or terrific symbols of life, death and -immortality, have had their origin in the instinctive effort of the -Soul to detach itself from the mere earthly, and to imagine something -better. In the early days, this strong aspiration of humanity towards -a greater and more lasting good than its own immediate interest, -was displayed in the loftiest and purest conceptions of art. The -thoughts of the “old-world” period are written in well-nigh indelible -characters. The colossal architecture of the temples of ancient -Egypt--and that marvellous imaginative creation, the Sphinx, with its -immutable face of mingled scorn and pity--the beautiful classic forms -of old Greece and Rome--these are all visible evidences of spiritual -aspiration and endeavour,--moreover, they are the expression of a -broad, reposeful strength,--a dignified consciousness of power. The -glorious poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures--the swing and rush of Homer’s -Iliad,--the stately simplicity and profundity of Plato,--these also -belong to what we know of the youth of the world. And they are still -a part of the world’s most precious possessions. We, in our day, can -do nothing so great. We have neither the imagination to conceive such -work, nor the calm force necessary to execute it. The artists of a -former time laboured with sustained and tireless, yet tranquil energy; -we can only produce imitations of the greater models with a vast amount -of spasmodic hurry and clamour. So, perchance, we shall leave to future -generations little more than an echo of “much ado about nothing.” For, -truly, we live at present under a veritable scourge of mere noise. No -king, no statesman, no general, no thinker, no writer, is allowed to -follow the course of his duty or work without the shrieking comments -of all sorts and conditions of uninstructed and misguided persons, and -under such circumstances it is well to remember the strong lines of our -last great poet Laureate:-- - - - Step by step we gain’d a freedom, known to Europe, known to all,-- - Step by step we rose to greatness,--through the _tonguesters_ - we may fall! - - -But our chief disablement for high creative work,--and one that is -particularly noticeable at this immediate period of our history, is, as -I have said, the “vanishing of the gift”--the lack of Imagination. To -be wanting in this, is to be wanting in the first element of artistic -greatness. The poet, the painter, the sculptor, or the musician must -be able to make a world of his own and live in it, before he can make -one for others. When he has evolved such a world out of his individual -consciousness, and has peopled it with the creations of his fancy, -he can turn its “airy substance” into reality for all time. For the -things we call “imaginative” are often far more real than what we call -“realism.” All that we touch, taste and see, we call “real.” Now we -cannot touch, taste or see Honour--but surely it is real! We cannot -weigh out Courage in a solidified parcel--yet it is an actual thing. -So with Imagination--it shows us what we may, if we choose, consider -“the baseless fabric of a vision”--but which often proves as real and -practical in its results as Honour and Courage. Shakespeare’s world is -real;--so real that there are not wanting certain literary imposters -who grudge him its reality and strive to dispossess him of his own. -Walter Scott’s world is real--so real, that a shrine has been built for -him in Edinburgh, crowded with sculptured figures of men and women, -most of whom never existed, save in his teeming fancy. What a tribute -to the power of Imagination is the beautiful monument in the centre of -Princes Street, with all the forms evoked from one great mind, lifted -high above us, who consider ourselves “real” people! And now the lesser -world of thought is waiting for the discovery of a Cryptogram in the -Waverley Novels, which shall prove that King George the Fourth wrote -them with the assistance of Scott’s game-keeper, Tom Purdie,--and that -his Majesty gave Scott a baronetcy on condition that he should never -divulge the true authorship! For, according to the narrow material -limits of some latter-day minds, no one man could possibly have written -Shakespeare’s Plays. Therefore it may be equally argued that, as there -is as much actual work, and quite as many characters in the Waverley -Novels as in the plays of Shakespeare, they could not all have emanated -from the one brain of Sir Walter Scott. Come forward then with a -“Waverley cryptogram,” little mean starvelings of literature who would -fain attempt to prove a man’s work is not his own! There are sure to be -some envious fools always ready to believe that the great are not so -great,--the heroic not so heroic, and that after all, they, the fools, -may be wiser than the wisest men! - -In very truth, one of the worst signs of the vanishing of the gift of -Imagination in these days is the utter inability of the majority of -modern folk to understand its value. The creative ease and exquisite -happiness of an imaginative soul which builds up grand ideals of life -and love and immortality with less effort than is required for the -act of breathing, seems to be quite beyond their comprehension. And -so--unfortunately it often follows that what is above them they try to -pull down,--and what is too large for them to grasp, they endeavour -to bind within their own narrow ring of experience. The attempt is -of course useless. We cannot get the planet Venus to serve us as a -lamp on our dinner table. We cannot fit the eagle into a sparrow’s -nest. But some people are always trying to do this sort of thing. -And when they find they cannot succeed, they fall into a fit of the -spleen, and revile what they cannot emulate. There is no surer sign of -mental and moral decadence than this grudging envy of a great fame. -For the healthy mind rejoices in the recognition of genius wherever -or whenever it may be discovered, and has a keen sense of personal -delight in giving to merit all its due. Hero-worship is a much finer -and more invigorating emotion than hero-slander. The insatiate -desire which is shown by certain writers nowadays, to pull down the -great reputations of the past, destroy old traditions, and cheapen -noble attainment, resembles a sudden outbreak of insane persons who -strive to smash everything within their reach. It is in its way a -form of Imagination,--but Imagination diseased and demoralized. For -Imagination, like all other faculties of the brain, can become sickly -and perverted. When it is about to die it shows--in common with -everything else in that condition,--signs of its dissolution. Such -signs of feebleness and decay are everywhere visible in the world at -the present time. They are shown in the constant output of decadent -and atheistical literature--in the decline of music and the drama from -noble and classic forms to the repulsive “problem” play and the comic -opera--in the splashy daubing of good canvas called “impressionist” -painting--in the acceptance, or passive toleration, of the vilest -doggerel verse as “poetry”--and in the wretched return to the lowest -forms of ignorance displayed in the “fashionable” craze for palmistry, -clairvoyance, crystal-gazing, and sundry other quite contemptible -evidences of foolish credulity concerning the grave issues of life and -death,--combined with a most sorrowful, most deplorable indifference -to the simple and pure teachings of the Christian Faith. Even in the -Christian Faith itself, its chosen ministers seem unable to serve their -Divine Master without quarrelling over trifles,--which is surely no -part of their calling and election. - -Everywhere there is a lack of high ideals,--and all the arts suffer -severely in consequence. Modern education itself checks and cramps the -growth of imaginative originality. The general tendency is unhappily -towards the basest forms of materialism, and a large majority of people -appear to be smitten with a paralysing apathy concerning everything -but the making of money. That art is pursued with a horrible avidity, -to the exclusion of every higher and nobler pursuit. Yet it needs -very little “imagination” to prophesy what the end of a nation is -bound to be when the unbridled fever of avarice once sets in. History -has chronicled the ruin of empires from this one cause over and over -again for our warning; and as Carlyle said in his stern and strenuous -way--“One thing I do know: Never on this earth was the relation of -man to man long carried on by cash payment alone. If at any time a -philosophy of Laissez-faire, Competition and Supply-and-Demand start up -as the exponent of human relations, expect that it will soon end.” - -Perhaps some will say that Imagination is not a “vanishing gift”--and -that Idealism and Romance still exist, at any rate among the Celtic -races, and in countries such as Scotland, for instance, the home of -so much noble tradition, song and story. I wish I could believe this. -But unhappily the proofs are all against it. If the Imaginative Spirit -were not decaying in Scotland as elsewhere, should we have seen the -wanton and wicked destruction of one of its fairest scenes of natural -beauty--the Glen and Fall of Foyers? There, where once the clear -beautiful cascade whose praises were sung by Robert Burns, dashed down -in its thundering glory among the heather and bracken, there are now -felled trees, sorrowful blackened stumps, withering ferns and trampled -flowers, dirty car-tracks, and all the indescribable muck which follows -in the wake of the merely money-grubbing human microbe. And where once -the pulse was quickened to a sane and healthy delight in the grandeur -of unspoilt Nature, and the mind was uplifted from sordid cares to -high contemplation, we are now asked to buy an aluminium paper-knife -for a shilling! Human absurdity can no further go than this. There can -be little imagination left in the minds that could have tolerated the -building of aluminium works where Foyers once poured music through -the glen. And it is instructive to recall the action taken by the -Belgian people--who are generally supposed to be very prosaic,--when -some of their beautiful scenery on the river Amblève, was threatened -with similar destruction. Mustering together, three to four thousand -strong, they took a reduced model of the intended factory, burnt it -on the spot, and threw its ashes into the river; performing such a -terror-striking “carmagnole” of revolt, that the authorities were -compelled to prohibit the erection of the proposed works, for fear of -a general rising throughout the country. Would that such a protest -had been offered by the people of Scotland against the destruction of -Foyers! - -And what of the pitiful ruin of Loch Katrine?--once an unspoilt gem of -Highland scenery, doubly beloved for the sake of Sir Walter Scott’s -“Lady of the Lake”? What of the submerging of “Ellen’s Isle”?--the -ruthless uprooting of that “entangled wood”-- - - - Where Nature scattered, free and wild. - Each plant or flower, the mountain’s child,-- - Here eglantine embalmed the air, - Heather and hazel mingled there. - - * * * * * - - The wanderer’s eye could barely view - The summer heaven’s delicious blue-- - So wondrous wild!--the whole might seem - The scenery of a fairy dream! - - -I have been assured on the very best authority that all the beauty of -Loch Katrine could have been left undisturbed, had the Scottish people -taken any actively determined measures towards preserving it. The -increasing water-supply necessary for Glasgow could have been procured -from Loch Vennachar, which is a larger loch, and quite as good for the -purpose. Only it would have cost more money, and that extra cash was -not forthcoming, even for Sir Walter’s sake! It is a poor return to -make to the memory of him who did so much for the fame of Scotland, -to mutilate the scene he loved and immortalized! The struggles and -disasters of the Jacobite Cause, and the defeat at Culloden brought -more gain than loss to Scotland, by filling the land with glorious song -and heroic tradition,--the result of the noble idealistic spirit which -made even failure honourable,--but the defacement of Loch Katrine, the -scene of “The Lady of the Lake” is nothing but a disgrace to those who -authorized it, and to those who kept silence while the deed was done. - -But there are yet other signs and tokens of the disappearance of -that idealistic and romantic spirit in Scotland, which has more than -anything, helped to make its history such a brilliant chronicle of -heroism and honour. There are “a certain class” of Scottish people who -are ashamed of the Scotch accent, and who affect to be unable to read -anything written in the Scotch dialect. I am told--though I would hope -it is not true--that the larger majority of Scottish ladies object to -Scotch music, and do not know any Scotch songs. If this _is_ true of -any “certain class” of Scottish people, I am sorry for them. They have -fallen down a long way from the height where birth and country placed -them! I should like to talk to any Scot, man or woman, who is ashamed -of the Scotch accent. As well be ashamed of the mountain heather! I -should like to interview any renegade son or daughter of the Celtic -race, who is not proud of every drop of Celtic blood, every word and -line of Celtic tradition,--every sweet song that expresses the Celtic -character. Nothing that is purely national should be set aside or -allowed to perish. It is a thousand pities that the old Gaelic speech -is dying out in the Highlands, along with the picturesque “plaid” and -“bonnet” of the Highland shepherds. The Gaelic language is a rich -and copious one, and should be kept up in every Scottish school and -University. Some of the Gaelic music, too, is the most beautiful in the -world,--and many a so-called “original” composer has taken the theme -for an overture or a symphony from an ancient, long-forgotten Gaelic -tune. A fine spirit of romance and idealism is the natural heritage of -the Celtic race;--far too precious a birthright to be exchanged for -the languid indifferentism of latter-day London fashion, which too -often makes a jest of noble enthusiasm, and which would, no doubt, call -Sir Walter Scott’s fine novel of _The Heart of Midlothian_, “kailyard -literature”--if it dared! - -And who that understands anything about music is so foolish and -ignorant as to despise a Scottish song? Where can we match, in all -song literature, the songs of Robert Burns? What German “lied”--what -French or Italian “canzonet” or “chansonette” expresses such real human -tenderness as “Of a’ the airts” or “My Nannie O!”? And it should be -remembered that the imaginative pathos of the Scottish song has its -other side of imaginative humour--sly, dry humour, such as cannot be -rivalled in any language or dialect of the world. And in spite of the -incredible assertion that they are beginning to despise their native -Doric, there are surely few real Scotsmen who, even at this time of day -fail to understand the whimsical satire of the famous old Jacobite song: - - - Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king - But a wee, wee German lairdie, - An’ he’s brought fouth o’ foreign trash - An’ dibbled it in his yairdie,-- - He’s pu’d the rose o’ England loons - An’ broken the harp o’ Irish clowns-- - But our Scotch thistle will jag his thumbs! - The wee, wee German lairdie! - - -We shall not find anything of a bilious nature in a Scottish love-song. -We shall not hear the swain asking his lady-love to meet him “in some -sky,” or “when the hay is in the mow,” or any other vaguely indefinite -place or period. The Scottish lover appears,--if we may judge him -by his native song,--to be supremely healthy in his sentiments, and -gratefully conscious of the excellence of both life and love. He takes -even poverty with a light heart, and does not grizzle over it in -trickling tears of dismal melody. No; he says simply and cheerily: - - - My riches a’ my penny fee, - An’ I maun guide it cannie O,-- - But this world’s gear ne’er fashes me,-- - My thoughts are a’ my Nannie O! - - -It will be a sad day indeed when this spirit of wholesome, tender and -poetic imagination drifts away altogether from Scotland. We must not -forget that the Scottish race has taken a very firm root in the New -World Beyond Seas,--and that out in Canada and Australia and South -Africa the memories and the traditions of home are dear to the hearts -of thousands who call Scotland their mother. Surely they should be -privileged to feel that in their beautiful ancestral land, the old -proud spirit is still kept up,--the old legends, the old language, -the old songs,--all the old associations, which--far away as they -are forced to dwell--they can still hand down to their children and -their children’s children. No king,--no statesman, can do for a -country what its romancists and poets can,--for the sovereignty of the -truly inspired and imaginative soul is supreme, and as far above all -other earthly dominion as the fame of Homer is above the conquests -of Alexander. And when the last touch of idealistic fancy and poetic -sentiment has been crushed out of us, and only the dry husks of -realism are left to feed swine withal, then may we look for the end -of everything that is worth cherishing and fighting for in our much -boasted civilization. - -For with the vanishing gift, vanish many other things, which may be -called in the quaint phrasing of an Elizabethan writer, “a bundle of -good graces.” The chivalrous spirit of man towards woman is one of -those “good graces” which is rapidly disappearing. Hospitality is -another “good grace” which is on the wane. The art of conversation -is almost a lost one. People talk as they ride bicycles--at a -rush--without pausing to consider their surroundings. Elegant manners -are also at a discount. The “scorching,” steaming, spasmodic motor -man-animal does not inspire reverence. The smoking, slangy horsey, -betting, woman-animal is not a graceful object. In the days of classic -Greece and Rome, men and women “imagined” themselves to be descended -from the gods;--and however extravagant the idea, it was likely to -breed more dignity and beauty of conduct than if they had “imagined” -themselves descended from apes. A nation rounds itself to an Ideal, as -the clay forms into shape on a potter’s wheel. It is well, therefore, -to see that the Ideal be pure and lofty, and not a mere Golden Image -like that set up by King Nebuchadnezzar, who ended his days by eating -grass,--possibly thistles. Some of our public men might perhaps be -better for a little more Imagination, and a little less red tape. It -might take them healthfully out of themselves. For most of them seem -burdened with an absurd self-consciousness, which is apt to limit the -extent of their view out on public affairs. Others again are afflicted -by the hedge-hog quality of “stand-offishness” which they unfortunately -mistake for dignity. And others affect to despise public opinion, and -have a curious habit of overlooking the fact that it is the much-abused -public which sets them in office and pays to keep them there. Their -Ideal of public life and service partakes too much of Self to be nobly -National. - -What, after all, is Imagination? It is a great many things. It is -a sense of beauty and harmony. It is an instinct of poetry and of -prophecy. A Persian poet describes it as an immortal sense of memory -which is always striving to recall the beautiful things the Soul has -lost. Another fancy, also from the East, is that it is “an instinctive -premonition of beautiful things to come.” Another, which is perhaps -the most accurate description of all, is that it is “the Sun-dial of -the Soul on which God flashes the true time of day.” This is true, if -we bear in mind that Imagination is always ahead of Science, pointing -out in advance the great discovery to come. Shakespeare foretold the -whole science of geology in three words--“Sermons in stones,”--and -the vast business of the electric telegraph in one line--“I’ll put a -girdle round the earth in forty minutes.” One of the Hebrew prophets -“imagined” the phonograph when he wrote “Declare unto me the image -of a voice.” As we all know, the marks on the wax cylinder in a -phonograph are “the image of a voice.” The air-ship may prove a very -marvellous invention, but the imagination which saw Aladdin’s palace -flying from one country to another was long before it. All the genii -in the Arabian Nights stories were only the symbols of the elements -which man might control if he but rubbed the lamp of his intelligence -smartly enough. Every fairy tale has a meaning; every legend a lesson. -The submarine boat in perfection has been “imagined” by Jules Verne. -Wireless telegraphy appears to have been known in the very remote days -of Egypt, for in a rare old book called _The History of the Pyramids_, -translated from the Arabic, and published in France in 1672, we find -an account of a certain high priest of Memphis named Saurid,--who, so -says the ancient Arabian chronicler, “prepared for himself a casket -wherein he put magic fire, and shutting himself up with the casket, he -sent messages with the fire day and night, over land and sea, to all -those priests over whom he had command, so that all the people should -be made subject to his will. And he received answers to his messages -without stop or stay, and none could hold or see the running fire, so -that all the land was in fear by reason of the knowledge of Saurid.” In -the same volume we find that a priestess named Borsa evidently used the -telephone. For, according to her history, “She applied her mouth and -ears unto pipes in the wall of her dwelling, and so heard and answered -the requests of the people in the distant city.” - -Thus it would seem that there is nothing new under the sun to that -“dainty Ariel” of the mind, Imagination. It sees all present things -at a glance, and foretells what is yet to come. It may well be called -the Sun-dial of the Soul; but it is a Dial that must be kept sound -and clean. There must be no crack in it,--it must not be allowed to -get overgrown with the slimy mosses and rank weeds of selfishness and -personal prejudice,--the index hand must be firmly set,--and none -of the numeral figures must be missing! So, perchance, shall God -flash the true time of day upon it, for such as will hold themselves -free to mark the Hour according to His will. And for those who do -thus hold themselves free,--for those who care to keep this precious -Sun-dial clear and clean in their souls, there shall always be light -and love,--and such clear reflections of divine beauty and peace as -are described by the “Ettrick Shepherd” in his story of _Kilmeny in -Fairyland_: - - - For Kilmeny had been, she knew not where, - And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare; - But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, - And the airs of heaven played round her tongue! - - - - -THE POWER OF THE PEN - - -The dignity of Literature is, or used to be, something more than a -mere phrase. Days there were in the long-ago, when the thinkers and -writers of a nation were held to be worthy of higher honour than -trade-kings and stock-jobbers,--when each one that shone out was “a -bright particular star” of genius, as frankly owned as an object -of admiration in the literary firmament. At that time there was -no “syndicated” press. The followers and disciples of Literature -were not all herded together, as it were, in a kind of scribbling -trades-union. The poet, the novelist, the essayist,--each one of -these moved in his or her own appointed orbit, and their differing -special ways of handling the topics of their time served to interest, -charm and stimulate the intelligences of people who were cultured and -appreciative enough to understand and honour their efforts. But now -things are greatly changed. What has been generally understood as -“cultured” society is rapidly deteriorating into baseness and voluntary -ignorance. The profession of letters is so little understood, and -so far from being seriously appreciated, that responsible editors -will accept and publish magazine articles by women of “title” and -“fashion,” who prove themselves as ignorant of grammar as they are of -spelling. The printer’s reader corrects the spelling, but the grammar -is generally left as its “aristocratic” writer penned it, in majestic -incompleteness. The newspapers are full, not of thoughtful, honestly -expressed public opinion on the affairs of the nation, but of vapid -“personalities,” interesting to none save gossips and busy-bodies. A -lamentable lack of strength is apparent in the whole “tone” of modern -Literature, together with a still more lamentable lack of wit. All -topics, say the pessimists, are exhausted. The quarrels of politicians -have exhausted earth,--the recriminations of the Churches have -exhausted Heaven,--and the bold immoralities of society have, almost, -if not quite, exhausted Hell. Yet the topic which holds in itself a -great many of the pleasures of earth and heaven--with perhaps a touch -of the other nameless place also, is still the Power of the Pen. It -remains, even in these days, the greatest power for good or evil in -the world. With the little instrument which rests so lightly in the -hand, whole nations can be moved. It is nothing to look at; generally -speaking it is a mere bit of wood with a nib at the end of it--but when -it is poised between thumb and finger, it becomes a living thing--it -moves with the pulsations of the loving heart and thinking brain, and -writes down, almost unconsciously, the thoughts that live--the words -that burn. - -To the power of the Pen we owe our laws, our government, our -civilization, our very religion. For without it we should have no -Bible--no New Testament. Our histories, our classics, our philosophies, -our poetry, would all be lost with their originators. We should not -know that Julius Cæsar ever walked on the shores of Britain, or that -Nero fiddled while Rome was burning. In fact we should still be in -the dark ages, without so much as a dream of the magnificent era of -progress through which we have come, and in which we, of this present -generation, have our glorious share. And so I think and venture to -say that the power of the Pen is one which commands more millions of -human beings than any monarch’s rule, and that the profession of the -pen, called Literature, is the greatest, the highest, and the noblest -that is open to aspiring ambition. Empires, thrones, commerce, war, -politics, society--these things last but their brief hour--the Power of -the Pen takes note of them as they pass--but outlives them all! - -We should know nothing to-day of the grandeurs of old Egypt, or the -histories of her forgotten kings, if it were not for the Rosetta -stone--on which the engraver’s instrument, serving as a pen, wrote the -Egyptian hieroglyphics beside the Greek characters, thus giving us -the clue to the buried secrets of a long past great civilization. The -classic land of Greece, once foremost in all things which make nations -great, particularly in the valour and victorious deeds of her military -heroes, has almost forgotten her ancient glory--she might perhaps be -forgotten by other nations altogether in the constant springing up of -new countries and peoples if it were not for Homer! The blind, despised -old man, who sang her golden days of pride and conquest, still keeps -her memory green. And let us not forget that other glorious poet, who -laid his laurel-wreath and life upon her shrine--our own immortal -Byron--whose splendid lyric, “The Isles of Greece” may stand beside -the finest lines of Homer, and not be shamed. - -What does all Italy, and particularly Florence, make chief boast of -to-day? Not commerce, not wealth--simply Dante! In his lifetime he was -made a subject for hatred and derision--he was scorned, cast out, and -exiled by his fellow-townsfolk--yet now he is the great glory of his -native city which claims respect from all the world for having been the -birthplace of so supreme a soul. So, even after death, the Power of the -Pen takes its revenge, and ensures its just recognition. - -Yet there are many workers in Literature who say that the Power of -the Pen gives them no joy at all,--that it is a “grind,”--that it is -full of disappointment and bitterness, and that they never get paid -enough for what they do. This last is always a very sore point with -them. They brood on it, and consider it so often, that by and by the -question of how much or how little payment they get, becomes the only -way in which they regard their profession. It is the wrong way. It is -the way that leads straight to biliousness and chronic dyspepsia. It is -not my way. To me, what little power of the pen I possess, is a magic -talisman which I would not exchange for millions of money. It makes -life beautiful for me--it intensifies and transfigures all events and -incidents--it shows me a whole history in the face of a child--a whole -volume of poetry and philosophy in the cup of a flower. It enables -me to see the loveliness of nature with keener and more appreciative -gratitude--and it fills me with an inward happiness which no outward -circumstance can destroy. - -Of course just payment is to be demanded and expected for every kind -of work. The rule of “give and take” holds good in all classes of -employment. Each author’s power of the pen commands its price according -to the value set upon it by the public. But I, personally, have refused -many considerable sums of money offered to me if I would consent to -“work up” or “bring forward” certain schemes and subjects with which -I have no sympathy. The largest cheque would never tempt me to write -against my own inclination. If I were given such a choice as this--to -write something entirely opposed to my own feeling and conscience for -a thousand pounds, or to write my honest thought for nothing, I would -write my honest thought, and let the thousand pounds go. I am glad to -say that some of my contemporaries are with me in this particular form -of literary faith--but not as many as, for the honour of our calling, I -could desire. - -Then again, there is that vexed question of--the Public! I have often -noticed, with a humility too deep for words, that all the great modern -writers, or, I should say, all those who consider themselves the -greatest, have a lofty contempt for the public. “‘He,’ or ‘she’ writes -for the Public,” is a remark which, when spoken with a withering sneer, -is supposed to have the effect of completely crushing the ambitious -scribbler whose Power of the Pen has attracted some little attention. -Now if authors are not to write for the Public, who are they to write -for? Certain of the “superior” folk among them will say that they write -“for posterity.” But then, Posterity is also the Public! I really -do not see how either the great or the small author is to get away -from the Public anyhow! There is only one means of escape, and that -is--not to write at all. But if those to whom the Power of the Pen is -given, wish to claim and use their highest privileges, they will work -always for the public, and try to win their laurels from the public -alone. Not by the voice of any “clique,” “club,” or “set” will Time -accept the final verdict of an author’s greatness, but by the love and -honour of an entire people. Because, whatever passing surface fancies -may for awhile affect the public humour, the central soul of a nation -always strives for Right, for Justice, and for final Good, and the -author whose Power of the Pen helps strongly, boldly, and faithfully on -towards these great ends, is not, and shall not be, easily forgotten. - -I hope and I believe, that it is only a few shallow, ignorant and -unsuccessful persons--fancying perhaps that they have the Power of the -Pen when they have it not--who, in their disappointment, take a sort -of doleful comfort in “posing” as unrecognized geniuses, whose quality -of thought is too fine,--they would say too “subtle”--for the public -taste. For, in my humble opinion, nothing is too good for the Public. -They deserve the very best they can get. No “scamp” work should ever -be offered to them. If a poet sings, let him sing his sweetest for -them; if a painter paints pictures, let him give them his finest skill; -if an author writes stories, essays or romances, let him do his very -utmost to charm, to instruct, to awaken their thought and excite their -interest. It is not a wise thing to start writing for “posterity.” -Because, if the present Public will have nothing to do with you, it is -ten to one whether the future will. All our great authors have worked -for the public of their own immediate time, without any egotistical -calculations as to their possible wider appreciation after death. - -The greatest poet in the world, William Shakespeare, was, from all we -can gather, an unaffected, cheery, straightforward Warwickshire man, -who wrote plays to please the Public who went to the Globe Theatre. -He did not say he was too good for the Public; he worked _for_ the -Public. He attached so little importance to his own genius, that he -made no mention of his work in his will. So we may fairly judge that he -never dreamed of the future splendour of his fame--when, three hundred -years after his death, every civilized country in the world would have -societies founded in his name; when, year after year, new discussions -would be opened up concerning his Plays, new actors would be busy -working hard to represent his characters, and, strangest compliment of -all, when envious persons would turn up to say his work was not his -own! For when genius is so varying and brilliant that a certain section -of the narrow-minded cannot understand its many-sided points of view, -and will not believe that it is the inheritance of one human brain, -then it is great indeed! Three hundred years hence there will, no -doubt, be other people to announce to the world that Walter Scott did -not write, and could not have written, the Waverley Novels. For they -are--in their own special way--as great as the plays of Shakespeare. -He, too, was one of those who wrote for the Public. With his magic -wand he touched the wild mountains, lakes and glens of his native -land, and transfigured them with the light of romance and beauty for -ever. Can we imagine Scotland without Walter Scott and Robert Burns? -No! Their power of the pen rules the whole country, and gives it over -the heads of monarchs a free fairy kingdom to all classes and peoples -who have the wish and will to possess it. There are certain superior -people nowadays who declare that Walter Scott is “old-fashioned,” and -that they, for their parts, cannot read his novels. Well, I grant that -Walter Scott _is_ old-fashioned--as old-fashioned as the sunshine--and -just as wholesome. He lived in a time when men still reverenced women, -and when women gave men cause for reverence. I think if he could be -among us now, and see the change that has come over society since his -day, he would scarcely have the heart to write at all. The idolatry -of wealth--the servile worship of the newest millionaire--would -hardly inspire his pen, save perhaps to sorrow and indignation. But -if he were with us and did write for us, I am sure he would employ -some of his great power to protest against the lack of fine feeling, -gentleness, forbearance and courtesy which unfortunately marks much of -our latter-day society. I think he would have something to say about -the school-girl who smokes,--I fancy his mind might revolt against the -skirt-dancing peeress! I think he would implore women not to part with -their chief charm--womanliness--and I am sure he would be very sorry to -see children of ten and eleven so deplorably “advanced” as to be unable -to appreciate a fairy tale. - -And what of dear Charles Dickens--he, whom certain superfine persons -who read Yellow Journalism presume to call “vulgar”? Is love, is pity, -is tenderness, is faith “vulgar”? Is kindness to the poor, patience -with the suffering, tolerance for all men and all creeds “vulgar”? -If so, then Charles Dickens _was_ vulgar!--not a doubt of it! Few -authors have ever been so blessedly, gloriously “vulgar” as he! What -marvellous pictures his “power of the pen” conjures up at once before -our eyes!--pathetic, playful, humourous, thrilling--rising to grandeur -in such scenes as the shipwreck in _David Copperfield_; or that -wonderful piece of description in the _Tale of Two Cities_, when the -tramping feet of the Spirit of the French Revolution sweep past in the -silence of the night! Match us such a passage in any literature past or -present! It is unique in its own way--as unique as all great work must -be. There is nothing quite like it, and never will be anything quite -like it. And when we “go” with such great authors as these--and by this -I mean, when we are determined to be one with them--we shall win such -victories over our hearts and minds, our passions and desires, as shall -make us better and stronger men and women. - -And this brings me to a point which I have often earnestly considered. -One cannot help noticing that the present system of education is fast -doing away with two great ingredients for the thorough enjoyment of -life, and especially the enjoyment of Literature--Imagination and -Appreciation. On the school-boy or school-girl who is “coached” or -“crammed,” the gates of fairyland and romance are shut with a bang. I -had once the pleasure of entertaining at my house a small gentleman -of eleven, fresh from his London College--he was indifferent to, or -weary of life; things generally, were a “bore,” and he expressed his -opinion of fairy tales in one brief word, “Rot!” Now altogether apart -from that most revolting expression, which is becoming of frequent use, -especially in the “upper circles,” it seemed to me a real misfortune -to consider, that for this child, Hans Andersen was a sealed book, and -the wonders and beauties of the _Arabian Nights_ a lost world. And in -the same way I pity the older children--the grown men and women, who -cannot give themselves up to the charm or terror of a book completely -and ungrudgingly--who approach their authors with a carping hesitation -and a doubtful preparatory sneer. By so doing they shut against -themselves the gate of a whole garden of delights. Imagination is the -supreme endowment of the poet and romancist. It is a kind of second -sight, which conveys the owner of it to places he has never seen, -and surrounds him with strange circumstances of which he is merely -the spiritual eyewitness. One of the most foolish notions prevalent -nowadays is that an author must personally go and visit the place he -intends to describe. Nothing is more fatal. For accuracy of detail, -we can consult a guide book--but for a complete picture which shall -impress us all our lives long, we must go to the inspired author whose -prescience or second-sight enables him to be something more than a mere -Baedeker. Endless examples of this second-sight faculty could be given. -Take Shakespeare as the best of them. He could never have personally -known Antony and Cleopatra. He did not live in the time of Julius -Cæsar. He was not guilty of murder because he described a murder in -_Macbeth_. He could not have been a “fellow-student” of Hamlet’s. And -where do you suppose, among the grim realities of life, he could have -met those exquisite creations, Ariel and Puck, if not in the heaven -of his own peerless imagination, borne to him on the brilliant wings -of his own thought, to take shape and form, and stay with us in our -English language for ever! Walter Scott had never seen Switzerland when -he wrote _Anne of Geierstein_. Thomas Moore never visited the East, -yet he wrote _Lalla Rookh_. Charles Dickens never fought a duel, and -never saw one fought, yet the duel between Mr. Chester and Haredale in -_Barnaby Rudge_ is one of the finest scenes ever written. Because an -author is able to describe a certain circumstance, it does not follow -that he or she has experienced that very circumstance personally. Very -often it may be quite the contrary. The most romantic descriptions -in novels have often been written by people leading very hum-drum, -quiet lives of their own. We have only to think of _Jane Eyre_, and to -remember the prosy, dull days passed by its author, Charlotte Brontë. - -To refer once more to Hans Andersen--we all know that he never -could have seen a Dresden China shepherdess eloping up the chimney -with a Dresden China sweep. We know he never saw that dainty little -shepherdess weeping on the top of a chimney because the world was so -large, and because all her gilding was coming off. But when we are -reading that fantastic little story, we feel he _must_ have seen it -somehow, and we are conscious of a slight vexation that we never see -such a curious and delightful elopement ourselves. This is a phase of -the power of the pen--to make the beautiful, the quaint, the terrible, -or the wonderful things of imagination seem an absolute reality. - -But to get all the enjoyment out of an author’s imagination, we, who -read his books, must ourselves “imagine” with him. We must let him take -us where he will; we must not draw back and refuse to go with him. -We must not approach him in a carping spirit, or make up our minds -before opening his book, that we shall not like it. We should not -allow our particular views of life, or our pet prejudices to intervene -between ourselves and the writer whose power of the pen may teach us -something new. And above all things, we should prepare ourselves to -appreciate--not to depreciate. Nothing is easier than to find fault. -The cheapest sort of mind can do that. The dirty little street-boy can -enter the British Museum and find fault with the Pallas Athene. But -the Pallas Athene remains the same. To be Pallas Athene is sufficient. -The power of appreciation is a great test of character. To appreciate -warmly, even enthusiastically, is generally the proof of a kind and -sunny disposition; to depreciate is to be in yourself but a sad soul at -best! For depreciation in one thing leads to depreciation in another; -and by and by the daily depreciator finds himself depreciating his -Maker, and wondering why he was ever born! And he will never find -an answer to that question till he changes his humour and begins to -appreciate; then, and only then, will life explain its brightest -meaning. - -Of course, when vulgarity, coarseness, slang, and ribaldry are set -forward as “attractions” in certain books and newspapers, it is -necessary to depreciate what is not the power of the pen, but the abuse -of the pen. Such abuse is easily recognizable. The libellous paragraph, -the personal sneer, the society scandal--there is no need to enumerate -them. But we do not call the writers of these things authors, or even -journalists. They are merely on a par with the anonymous letter-writer -whom all classes of society agree in regarding as the most contemptible -creature alive. And they do not come at all under the heading of the -power of the pen, their only strength being weakness. - -I have already said that I believe the Power of the Pen to be the -greatest power for good or evil in the world. And I may add that this -power is never more apparent than in the Press. The Press nowadays is -not a literary press; classic diction and brilliancy of style do not -distinguish it by any means. It would be difficult to find a single -newspaper or magazine to which we could turn for a lesson in pure and -elegant English, such as that of Addison, Steele or Macaulay. But in -the Scott or Byron days, the Press was literary to a very great extent, -and as a natural consequence it had a powerful influence on the success -or failure of an author’s work. That influence is past. Its work to-day -deals, not with books, but with nations. - -National education, progressing steadily for years, has taught the -Public to make up its own mind more quickly than ever it did before, as -regards the books it reads. It will take what it wants and leave the -rest; and the Press can neither persuade it nor repel it against its -own inclination. So that the author in these days has more difficulties -and responsibilities than in the past. He has to fight his battle -alone. He has many more rivals to compete with, and many more readers -to please. And the Press cannot help him. The Press may recommend, may -even “boom” his work; but several instances have occurred lately where -such recommendation has not been accepted. For, sometimes the Public -fight shy of a “boom.” They think it has been worked up by the author’s -friends, and they are not always mistaken. And they silently express -the fact that they are quite capable of choosing the books they wish -to read, without advice or assistance. This being the case, the Press -is beginning to leave books and authors alone to shift for themselves -as best they may, and is turning to other pastime. Nations, peoples, -governments! These are the great footballs it occasionally kicks in -the struggle for journalistic pre-eminence. And I hope I shall not be -misunderstood if I venture to say that it is a somewhat dangerous game! -Because, however powerful the Press may be, it is not the People. It is -the printed opinion of certain editors and their staff. The People are -outside it altogether. And if some one on the Press insults a monarch -or a nation, that insult should not be taken as a People’s insult. It -is the insult of the editor or proprietor who deliberately allows it to -be printed in the particular journal he controls. - -It is a thousand pities, for example, that a section of the lower -_boulevard_ press in Paris should be accepted in any quarter, as being -representative of the feeling of the whole French people. When flippant -and irresponsible newspaper scribes resort to calumny for the sake -of notoriety, they prove themselves unworthy to be trusted with the -Power of the Pen. In any case it can only be a God-forsaken creature -who seeks to earn his living by scurrility. Such an one may excite -individual contempt, but does not merit the notice of a great nation. - -As an author and as a lover of literature, I care very much for the -honour and dignity of the British Press, and I cannot but earnestly -deprecate the too free exchange of petty or malicious innuendo between -foreign and English writers on their various respective journals. -Bismarck used to say, “The windows which our Press breaks we shall have -to pay for.” The power of the pen is abused when _such_ windows are -broken as can only be mended by the sufferings of nations. If France -or Germany sneers at us, or misreads our intentions, I do not see that -we are called upon to sneer at them in return. That is mere schoolboy -conduct. Our dignity should shame their flippancy. The Press of such an -empire as Great Britain can afford to be magnanimous and dignified. It -is too big and strong a boy to throw stones at its little brothers. - -On such a subject as the Power of the Pen, one might speak endless -discourses, and write endless volumes, for it is practically -inexhaustible. It is a power for good and evil--as I have said--but the -author wrongs his vocation if he does not always, most steadfastly and -honestly, use it for Good. The Power of the Pen should define Right -from Wrong with absolute certainty,--it should not so mix the two -together that the reader cannot tell one from the other. In what is -called the “problem” novel or the “problem” play, the authors manage so -to befuddle the brains of their readers, that they hardly know whether -virtue is vice or vice virtue. This is putting the power of the pen to -unfair and harmful uses. And when a writer--any writer--employs his -or her power to promote the spirit of Atheism and Materialism, the -pen is turned into a merely murderous tool of the utmost iniquity. -And whosoever uses it in this sense will have to answer at a Higher -Tribunal for much mischief and cruelty wrought in the world. - -Many people are familiar with Shakespeare’s town, Stratford-on-Avon, -quaint and peaceful and beautiful in itself, and in all its -surroundings. Outside it, many roads lead to many lovely glimpses of -landscape; but there is one road in particular which winds uphill, -and from which, at certain times, the town itself is lost sight of, -and only the tapering spire of Holy Trinity Church--Shakespeare’s -Church--can be seen. Frequently at sunset, when the rosy hue of the -low clouds mingles with the silvery mist of the river Avon, all the -houses, bridges and streets are veiled in an opaque glow of colour--and -look like “mirage,” or a picture in a dream. And then, the spire -of Shakespeare’s Church, seen by itself, rising clear up from the -surrounding haze, puts on the distinct appearance of a Pen,--pointing -upwards, as though prepared to write upon the sky! - -Often and often have I seen it so, and others have seen it with me, -glittering against clouds, or lit up by a flashing sunbeam. I have -always thought it a true symbol of what the Power of the Pen should -be--to point upwards. To point to the highest aims of life, the best, -the greatest things; to rise clear out of the darkness and point -straight to the sunshine! For, if so uplifted, the Power of the Pen -becomes truly invincible. It can do almost anything. It can shame the -knave--it can abash the fool. It can lower the proud,--it can raise the -humble. It can assist the march of Science,--it can crush opposition. -Armed with truth and justice, its authority is greater than that of -governments,--for it can upset governments. It would seem impossible to -dethrone an unworthy king; but it has been done--by the Power of the -Pen! It is difficult to put down the arrogance of a county snob,--but -it _can_ be done!--by the Power of the Pen! It may seem a terrible -task to root up lies, to destroy hypocrisies, shams, false things of -every kind, and make havoc among rogues, sensualists, and scoundrels -of both high and low degree,--but it can be done, by the Power of the -Pen! And to those who are given this power in its truest sense, is also -added the gift of prophecy--the quick prescience of things To Be--the -spiritual hearing which catches the first sound of the approaching -time. And beyond the things of time this spiritual sense projects -itself, and hears, and almost _sees_, all that shall be found most -glorious after death! - -With the Power of the Pen we can uphold all noble things; we can -denounce all vile things. May all who have that power so deal with -it--and point us on--and upward! For as our great poet, Tennyson, -says:-- - - - What is true at last will tell; - Few at first will place thee well; - Some too low would have thee shine, - Some too high--no fault of thine! - Hold thine own and work thy will! - - - - -THE GLORY OF WORK - - -Very commonplace and familiar--perhaps too commonplace and familiar -is the subject of Work. Every one worthy the name of man or woman is, -or desires to be a Worker, and none surely would voluntarily swell -the distressed ranks of the Unemployed. For to be unemployed is to be -miserable. To find nothing to do,--to be of no use to ourselves or to -our fellow-creatures is to be more or less set aside and cast out from -the ever-working Divine scheme of labour and fruition, ambition and -accomplishment. Among all the blessings which the Creator showers so -liberally upon us, there is none greater than WORK. And amid all the -evils which Man wilfully accumulates on his own head through ignorance -and obstinacy, there is none so blighting and disastrous as Idleness. - -There are, however, certain people who have persuaded themselves to -look upon Work as a curse. Many of these pin their theories on the -Third Chapter of the Book of Genesis. There they read: - -“Cursëd is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all -the days of thy life. - -“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return unto -the ground.” - -But we may take comfort in the fact that the Book of Genesis shows some -curious discrepancies. For in the Second Chapter God is represented as -making _one_ single man out of the dust of the ground, yet in the very -First Chapter of the same Book we read that,-- - -“God created man in His own image; male and female created he _them_. - -“And God blessed _them_ and said unto _them_ ... Be fruitful and -multiply, and replenish the earth and _subdue_ it: and have _dominion_ -over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air, and over every -living thing that moveth upon the earth.” - -Thus we find that the story of Adam and Eve and the Serpent does -not occur till _after_ the creation of mankind (in the plural) and -_after_ the Divine order that this same mankind (in the plural) should -“replenish the earth and subdue it.” No “curse” accompanied this -command. On the contrary, it was sanctified by a blessing. “God blessed -them.” And whether Genesis be taken seriously, or only read as poetic -legend founded on some substratum of actual events, the fact remains -that “to replenish the earth and subdue it,” literally means,--to WORK. -The “dominion” of man over the planet he inhabits is not to be gained -by sitting down with folded hands and waiting for food to drop into the -mouth. It is evident that he was intended to earn his right to live. It -is also evident that the blessing of God will be his, if from the first -beginnings of conscious intelligence and aptitude he resolutely and -honestly sets his shoulder to the wheel. - -It is only when we are at work that we are vitally and essentially a -part of God’s great creative scheme. Idleness is an abnormal condition. -It is not to be found in nature. There everything works, and in the -special task allotted to it, each conscious atom finds its life and -joy. The smallest seed _works_, as it slowly but surely pushes its -way up through the soil;--the bird _works_, as it builds its nest and -forages the earth and air to find food for its young. We cannot point -to the minutest portion of God’s magnificent creation and say that it -is idle. Nothing is absolutely at rest. There is--strictly speaking--no -rest in the whole Universe. All things are working; all things are -moving. Man clamours for rest,--but rest is what he will never -get,--not even in the grave. For though he may seem dead, new forms -of life germinate from his body, and go on working in their appointed -way,--while, with the immortal part of himself which is his Soul, he -enters at once into fresh fields of labour. Rest is no more possible -than death, in the Divine scheme of everlasting progress where all is -Life. - -Nature is our mother, from whose gentle or severe lessons we must learn -the problems of our own lives. And whenever we go to her for help or -for instruction, we always find her working. She never sleeps. She -never has a spare moment. “Without haste, without rest” is her eternal -motto. When we, like fretful children, complain of long hours of toil, -scant wages and short holidays, she silently points us to the Universe -around us of which we are a part, and bids us set our minds “in tune -with the Infinite.” The Sun never takes holiday. With steady regularity -it performs its task. For countless ages it has worked without any -attempt to swerve from its monotonous round of duty. It shines on the -just and on the unjust alike; it gives life and joy equally to the gnat -dancing in its beams, as to the human being who hails its glory and -warmth as the simple expression of “a fine day.” It gets no wages. It -receives very little in the way of thanks. Its duty is so evident and -is always so well done, that by the very perfection of its performance -it has exhausted the far too easily exhausted sense of human gratitude. -Like a visible lamp of God’s love for us it generates beauty and -brightness about us wherever we go,--and it invites us to look beyond -the veil of creation to the Creator, who alone sustains the majestic -fabric of life. - -In some ways God Himself may be resembled to the Sun, seeing that He -receives very little of our gratitude. We are so wonderfully guided -by His wisdom that we sometimes think ourselves wiser than He. Of our -own accord we give Him scarcely any of our real working powers, and -were it not that we are all, in the mass, unconsciously swayed by His -command, the little we do give would be less. Our ideas of serving Him -too often consist in attending various sectarian places of worship -where quarrelling is far more common than brotherly love and unity. -In these places of worship we pray to Him for Ourselves and our own -concerns. We ask Him for all we can possibly think of, and we seldom -pause to consider that He has already given us more than we deserve. -It very rarely enters into our heads to realize that we are required -to show Him some return--that we are bound to work--no matter in how -small a degree--towards something in His vast design which has, or -shall have, its place in the world’s progress. We continue to implore -Him to work for Us,--just as if He needed our urging! We petition Him -to give us food and other material comforts,--yet if we study the laws -of Nature we shall learn that we are intended to Work for our food and -for all the things we want. We must Work for them in common with the -rest of all our fellows in the animal, bird, and insect kingdoms. What -a man does, that he has. We have no need to ask God for what He has -already given us. He has provided all that is necessary for our health -and sustenance on the earth,--but we must earn it,--deserve it,--and -take a little intelligent trouble to understand the value of it, as -well as to learn the laws by which we may gain and hold our own in -life. We must, in fact, Work. All Creation visibly shows us that God -Himself has worked and is still working. He, who has made us in “His -own Image” must have from each one of us a strong and faithful effort -to follow His Divine pre-ordained order of Labour and Progress. It may -be asked--To what does the Labour and Progress tend? The answer of our -last great Poet Laureate, Tennyson, is the best--the - - - One far off divine event - To which the whole creation moves. - - -Whether it be work with the hands, or work with the brain, it is work -of some kind that we must do if we would prove ourselves worthy to be -a part of the ever-working Universe. And if by disinclination,--or -by lethargy of mind and spirit, we decline to share in the splendid -“onward and upward” march of toil, the time comes when great Mother -Nature will accept us exactly at our own valuation. If we choose to -be no more than clods of clay, then as clods of clay she will use -us, to make soil for braver feet than our own. If, on the contrary, -we strive to be active intelligences, she will equally use us for -nobler purposes. The formation of our condition rests absolutely with -ourselves. No one person can shape the life of another. The father -cannot ensure the fortunes of his son. The mother cannot guarantee the -happiness of her daughter. Both mother and father may do their best on -these lines, but sooner or later the son and daughter will take their -own way and make their own lives. Each individual man or woman must -work out his or her own salvation. For this is the Law,--and it is a -Law divine and eternal against which there is no appeal. - -Let us realize, therefore, the Divine Necessity of Work,--and having -realized it let us take an honest joy in being able to do any sort of -work ourselves, no matter how humble or monotonous such work may be. -There is nothing really common even in what is called “common” work. -There is nothing undignified in the roughest labour. It is only the -“loafer” who loses both self-respect and dignity. The peasant who -turns the soil with his spade all day long is a noble and primeval -figure in the landscape, and deserves our consideration and respect. -The countless thousands of men, working in huge factories, patiently -guiding the machinery of giant looms, sweltering their very lives out -in the fiery heat of huge furnaces where iron and steel are shaped -for the uses of the world--these are the actual body of mankind--the -nerves, the muscles, the sinews of humanity. They represent the -nobility, the worth, the movement of the age. They are the Working -People. And the Working People of this, or of any other nation are the -People indeed--the People whose word--if they will only utter it--must -inevitably become Law. - -Sometimes, however, when we work,--when we perform some special round -of duty more or less monotonous, we are unlike the rest of the working -Universe. The Universe works without any grumbling at its work--but -we--well!--we rather like to grumble. We want every one to know how -hard our work is, and how badly paid we are. Many of us, who are -men, would like to pass entire days, loafing about, our hands in our -pockets, our pipes in our mouths, serving no purpose whatever in the -world save that of replenishing the till of the nearest public-house. -Others of us who are women, would love to dress up for all we are worth -and meander through the streets, staring into shop-windows and coveting -goods we have no money to buy. We forget that while we are wasting time -in this fashion, we are consuming some of the very energy that should -be at work to obtain for us whatever we desire. And we are also apt to -forget that very often those who possess what we envy,--who hold all -that we would win--have worked for it. - -It is of course quite true that some workers are well rewarded while -others get little if any reward at all. But to understand the cause -of this inequality we must examine the character of the work implied, -and the spirit in which that work is done. Is it undertaken with -cheerfulness and zeal? Or is it merely accepted as a “grind,” to be -shirked whenever possible and only half accomplished? I venture to -think that the man who loves his work,--who is content to begin at the -lowest rung of the ladder in order to master all the minutest details -of his particular trade or profession--whose Work is dearer to him -than either his wages or his dinner--is bound to be rewarded, bound to -succeed in whatever calling of life he may be. It is the half-hearted -worker who fails. It is the “scamp” worker who sticks in the rut. Every -man should do his utmost best. When he does only his half or quarter -best, he wrongs his own capability and intelligence even more than he -wrongs his employer. To “scamp” even the simplest kind of work proves -him to be out of tune with Nature. For in the natural world we find no -“scamping.” Each tiny leaf, each humble insect is as perfect in its way -as the planet itself. A midge’s wing seen through the microscope is -as brilliant and beautiful as that of a butterfly. And so,--“looking -up through Nature unto Nature’s God” we hear everywhere the Divine -command--“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy Might.” - -I hardly think the love of Work, for Work’s own sake, is a leading -characteristic of the workers of the present day. There is a tendency -to “rush” everything,--to get it done and over. It is a rare thing to -meet a man who is so fond of his work that he can hardly be persuaded -to leave it. Yet in him is the real germ of success, and with him are -the true possibilities of power. For the conscientious and painstaking -worker more often than not may become the great discoverer. In the -very earnestness with which he bends over his daily toil which may -often seem the merest monotonous drudgery, it frequently chances that a -little hint,--an unexpected clue,--is given out from the great factory -of nature, which may revolutionize a whole handicraft, or quicken a -failing industry. Nothing of value in science or art is ever vouchsafed -to the mere “hustler.” And there is by far too much “hustling,” -nowadays. I am an ardent lover of steady toil and continuous progress, -provided the progress is accompanied by the growth of beauty, goodness -and happiness, but I am no advocate of “rush” or “speed.” Nothing is -well done that is done in a hurry. Every scrap of time should be used -as a precious gift,--not snatched up and devoured. For with haste -comes carelessness and what is called “slop work.” “As long as it’s -done never mind how it’s done,” is a kind of humour that is common -enough and easily fostered. Haste by no means implies real swiftness -or attention to details. We need not draw comparisons between the -foreign workman and his British brother, because there is a maxim which -says “Comparisons are odious.” But in justice to the foreign workman, -it must be said that he often shows great intelligence and artistic -ability. Moreover that he sometimes works twelve hours a day against -the British eight, at half the British workman’s wages. - -But my own love for everything British is so deep and hearty that I -should like to see British handicraft, British art, British work of all -kinds at the head of creation. And I do most distinctly think it the -duty of every British employer of labour to provide work for British -workers first. Let the men who live in the land find means to live. -It is surely the right of the British working man to have the first -chance with a British employer. But this does not always happen. It is -a “consummation devoutly to be wished,” but it is not to be at once -realized even by schemes of fiscal policy. It is only to be attained -by the British working people themselves,--by the quality of the work -they do and the spirit in which they do it. We talk a great deal about -Education, technical and otherwise. What are the results? The fact -seems to be that when there was no compulsory Education much better -work was done. Houses were better built,--furniture was more strongly -made. Compare the brick-and-a-half “modern villa” architecture, with -its lath and plaster doors and window-frames, with the warm thick -walls and stout oak timbers of a farm or manor-house of the sixteenth -century! Put side by side the flimsy modern chair, and the serviceable -oak one, hand made in the time of our forefathers! Connoisseurs and -collectors of bric-à-brac are supposed to have a craze for “old” -things, merely because they _are_ “old.” This is not altogether true. -Old things are appreciated because they are good,--because they show -evidences of painstaking and careful Work. An old oak staircase in -a house is valued as a treasure, not only for its age, but for its -artistic construction, which our best workers can only imitate and -never surpass. It must, I think, be conceded that our forefathers -had better conceptions of the fitting and the beautiful in some ways -of work than we have. We have only to compare the Cathedrals which -they built for the worship of God, with our uninspired ugly modern -Churches and chapels. We know that they appreciated the beauties of the -landscape, and that they loved the grand old English trees, which our -short-sighted County Councils are destroying every year. Nothing can be -more pitiful to see than the ruthless and stupid cutting down of noble -trees all over the country, under the rule that their branches shall -not hang over the road. Thus, every grateful place of shade is ruined, -as well as much natural beauty. Our ancestors, more individually free, -showed finer taste. The roofs of their houses were picturesquely -thatched or tiled, and gabled,--their eyes were never affronted by -the dull appearance of cheap slate and corrugated iron. They left us -a heritage of many lovely and lasting things; but it is greatly to be -feared that we shall not do likewise to those that come after us. We -are destroying far more than we are creating. - -And when we come to the higher phases of intellectual work, we find -that though we have plenty of “schools of art” we have no great -British artists such as Gainsborough, Reynolds or Romney. And though -every one is supposed to know how to read and write, we have no great -literature such as that of Shakespeare, Scott, Thackeray or Dickens. -These belonged to the days of non-compulsory Education. Poetry, too, -the divinest of the arts, is well-nigh dead. The great poets were born -in so-called “uneducated” times. Our present system of Education is -absolutely disastrous in one respect--that of its tendency to depress -and cramp rather than to encourage the aspiring student. Its mechanical -routine works on the line of flattening all human creatures down to one -level. Originality is often “quashed.” Yet in all educational schemes -there should be plenty of room left for the natural ability of the -student or worker to expand and declare itself in some entirely new -form wherever possible. - -But despite our perpetual talk of the advantages of Education, here -we are to-day with plenty of schools both before and behind us, but -no very great men. And looking a long way back in history we see that -when there was no Compulsory Education at all, there _were_ very great -men,--men who made the glory of England. Shall we leave anything after -us, to match their heritage? It is open to doubt. Much of our modern -work is “scamped” and badly done. And a great deal of the mischief -arises from our way of “rushing” things. We are so anxious to catch -Time by the forelock that we almost tear that forelock off. But why -such haste? What is our object? Well,--we want to make money before -we die. We want to make it, and then spend it on ourselves, or else -leave it to our children, who will no doubt get rid of it all for us -with the most cheerful rapidity. Or we want to have enough to “sit -down and do nothing.” This is some people’s idea of perfect bliss. -A servant of mine once very kindly reproached me for sticking at my -desk so long. “If I were a lady,” said she--“I would sit down and do -nothing.” No more cruel torture can be imagined than this. We read in -history of prisoners who, condemned to such a life, went mad with the -misery of it. The only way to live happily and healthfully is to try -with every moment of our time to accomplish something--even if it be -only a thought. Thought, as we know, crystallizes into action. Yet -very few people really think. Many get no further than to think they -are thinking. To think is a kind of Work--too hard for many folks. In -politics, for instance, some people let the Press think for them. They -cannot be bothered to do it for themselves. And when the Press makes -what is called a “corner” in any particular policy, they sometimes -submit to be “cornered.” There have been of late a great many rumours -concerning a gigantic Press “combine” which is to be formed for the -purpose of swaying the opinion of the British public and particularly -the opinion of the British working man. In other words, opinion is no -longer to be “free,” but coerced by something like a Press “Trust” -Company. Now if we are to believe this, we must likewise believe the -British public fools. And we should surely be sorry to be forced to -such a conclusion. Let us hope the British public has an opinion -of its own entirely apart from the Press, and that it will declare -that opinion bravely and openly. It is hard to imagine that it will -allow its fondness for “prize-competitions” and “puzzle-pictures” -to interfere with its common sense and honesty. I may say, however, -that I have often marvelled at the generosity with which a large -majority of people will insist on filling the pockets of newspaper -capitalists, by purchasing such quantities of the particular journals -which contain these puzzles and competitions. The guileless innocence -of childhood in the nursery is not more touching than the faith of the -great British public in what is called a “Picture” or “Word” puzzle. -Over this kind of thing I have seen otherwise sane though indolent -people actually _work_! Once I made a calculation of the hours spent by -a friend of mine in deciphering one of these newspaper problems, and -found that he could certainly have obtained a very fair knowledge of -French or Italian in the time, or he could have learned shorthand and -typewriting. He was successful in the competition, and received for his -pains the splendid sum of three-halfpence. It was explained to him that -there were so many successful competitors that the hundred--or thousand -pounds reward had to be divided among the crowd. Three half-pence -therefore was his legitimate share. - -I am no politician. I am simply a Worker--and I do such work as I -can, quite independently of sect or party. But _as_ a Worker, and -looker-on at the events taking place around me, I cannot help feeling -that this dear land of ours is on the verge of a great crisis in her -history. We hear much of failing trade,--depression in this or that -quarter,--yet apart from political agitators, it seems to me that Great -Britain stands where she has always stood--at the top of the world! -Whatever influences have set her there, surely there she is. And it -is for all true workers to keep her there. It is not by what parties -or Governments will do for us that her position will be sustained -and strengthened,--it is by what we, in the skill and excellence of -our Work in all trades and professions, will do for Her. It is by our -determination to excel in all kinds of Work that she will hold her -own,--by our unstinted time, our ungrudging labour, our zeal, our -cheerfulness, our love for her glory that she--and ourselves--will -exist. It is necessary to “protect” her, and all things that may help -to make her stronger and greater--but sometimes the word “Protection” -may be made to apply chiefly to capitalists and “cornerers” of trade. -Herein comes the hard work of Thinking. We must Think for ourselves. -God has given us brains to work with. There is never any good reason -why we should hastily adopt the political views of certain newspaper -proprietors, who are perhaps under the impression that we have no -brains at all, and that being thus sadly deficient, we are willing -to buy their brains for a penny or a halfpenny! It is by the workers -of the land that the land lives. And more than this,--it is from the -workers that must come the great battle of Right against Might. It is -for the Workers to put to shame by their own faith and honour, the -wicked Atheism and open immorality which are disgracing some of our -so-called “upper” classes to-day--and it is for the Workers to show by -their upright, temperate lives, and their steady downright Work, that -they are determined to keep the foundations of the Home secure, and the -heart of England warm and true. What says brave Thomas Carlyle? - -“All true Work is sacred; in all true Work, were it but true -hand-labour, there is something of divineness. Labour, wide as the -Earth, has its summit in Heaven. Sweat of the brow, and up from that -to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart--which includes all Kepler -calculations, Newton meditations, all Sciences, all spoken Epics, all -acted Heroisms, and Martyrdoms, up to that ‘Agony of bloody sweat’ -which all men have called divine! O brother, if this is not ‘worship,’ -then I say the more pity for worship, for this is the noblest thing yet -discovered under God’s sky. Who art thou that complainest of thy life -of toil? Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother!--see thy fellow -Workmen there in God’s eternity, surviving there, they alone surviving; -sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Bodyguard of the Empire of -Mankind. Even in the weak Human memory they survive so long, as saints, -as heroes, as gods, they alone surviving--peopling, they alone, the -measured solitudes of Time. To thee, Heaven, though severe, is _not_ -unkind; Heaven is kind as a noble Mother--as that Spartan mother, -saying while she gave her son his shield--“With it, my son, or upon -it!” Thou too shalt return home in honour, brother Worker!--to thy far -distant Home, in honour, doubt it not, if in the battle thou keep thy -shield!” - - - - -THE HAPPY LIFE - - -Most people want to be happy if they can. I suppose it may be safely -set down without fear of contradiction that no one who is sane and -healthy wilfully elects to be miserable. Yet the secret of happiness -seems to be solved by very few. People try to be happy in all sorts of -queer ways--in speculation, land-grabbing, dram-drinking, horse-racing, -bridge-playing, newspaper-running, and various other methods which -are more or less suited to their constitutional abilities--but in -many cases these channels, carefully dug out for the reception of -a perpetual inflowing of the stream of happiness, appear very soon -to run dry. I have been asked scores of times what I consider to be -the happiest life in the world, and I have always answered without -the least hesitation--the Life Literary. In all respects it answers -perfectly to the description of the “Happy Life” portrayed by that -gentle sixteenth-century poet, Sir Henry Wotton:-- - - - How happy is he born and taught - That serveth not another’s will, - Whose armour is his honest thought, - And simple truth his utmost skill. - - -Herein we have the vital essence of all delight--honest thought -and simple truth--and in the “serveth not another’s will,” glorious -liberty. For chiefest among the joys of the Life Literary are its -splendid independence, its right of free opinion, and its ability to -express that opinion. An author is bound to no person, no place, and no -party, unless he or she wilfully elects to be so bound. To him, or to -her, all the realms of Nature and imagination are entrance-free--the -pen unlocks every closed door--and not only is the present period of -time set out like a stage-scene for contemplation and criticism, but -all the past ages, with their histories, and the rise and fall of their -civilizations, arrange themselves to command in a series of pictures -for the pleasure of the literary eye and brain; and it is just as easy -to converse in one’s own library with Plato on the immortality of the -soul as it is good-humouredly to tolerate Mr. Mallock and his little -drawing-room philosophies. For a book is more or less the expression -of the mind, or a part of the mind, of its writer, and, inasmuch -as it is only with the moral and intellectual personalities of our -friends and enemies that we care to deal, it matters little whether -such personalities be three or four thousand years old, or only of -yesterday. And to live the Life Literary means that we can always -choose our own company. We can reject commoners and receive kings, or -_vice versâ_. The author who is careful to hold and to maintain all the -real privileges and rights of authorship is a ruler of millions, and -under subjection to none. The position is unique and, to my thinking, -unequalled. - -There are many, of course, who will by no means agree with me as to -the superior charm of the Life Literary over all other lives--and such -objectors will be found mostly in the literary profession itself. -Unsuccessful authors--particularly those who are in any way troubled -with dyspepsia--will be among them. “Tied” authors also--and by “tied” -authors I mean the unhappy wretches who have signed contracts with -publishers several years ahead, and are, so to speak, dancing in -fetters. Authors who count the number of words they write per day, -like potatoes, and anxiously calculate how much a publisher will -possibly give for them per bushel, are not likely to experience any -very particular “happiness” while they are measuring out halfpence in -this fashion. And authors who run after “society” and want to be seen -here, there, and everywhere, are bound to lose the gifts of the gods -one by one as they scamper helter-skelter through the world’s Vanity -Fair, while they may be perfectly sure that the “great” or swagger -persons with whom they seek to associate will be the first to despise -and neglect them in any time of need or trouble, as well as the last to -support or help them in any urgent cause which might be benefited by -their assistance. - -On this point we have only to remember the melancholy experience of -Robert Burns, who, after having been flattered and feasted by certain -individuals who were, in an ephemeral sense, influential for the time -being, either through their rank or their wealth, was afterwards -shamefully neglected by them, and finally, notwithstanding the various -social attentions and courtesy he had at one time received, he was -left, when ill and dying, in such extremity as to be compelled to -implore his publisher for the loan of five pounds! What had become of -all his wealthy and “influential” friends? Why they were exactly where -all “influential” persons would be now in a similar case--“otherwise -engaged” when their help is needed. Nothing can well be more deplorable -than the position of any author who depends for success on a clique -of “distinguished” or “society” persons. He or she has exchanged -independence for slavery--the nectar of the gods for a base mess of -pottage--and the true “happiness” of the Life Literary for a mere -miserable restlessness and constant craving after fresh excitement, -which gradually breeds nervous troubles, and disturbs that fine and -even balance of brain without which no clear or convincing thought is -possible. Again, authors who deliberately prostitute their talents to -the writing of lewd matter unfit to be handled by cleanly-minded men -and women need never hope to possess that happy and studious peace -which comes from the - - - Pure intent to do the best - Purely--and leave to God the rest. - - -For the highest satisfaction in the Life Literary is to think that -perhaps, in a fortunate or inspired moment, one may have written at -least a sentence, a line, a verse, that may carry comfort and a sense -of beauty to the sorrowful, or hope to the forlorn; while surely the -greatest pang would be to know that one had cast the already despairing -soul into a lower depth of degradation, or caused the sinner to revel -more consciously in his sin. - -But are there no drawbacks, no disappointments, no sufferings in the -Life Literary? Why, of course there are! Who would be such a useless -block of stone, such a senseless lump of unvalued clay, as not to -ardently wish for drawbacks, disappointments, and sufferings? Who -that has a soul at all does not pray that it may be laid like glowing -iron on the anvil of endurance, there to be beaten and hammered by -destiny till it is of a strong and shapely mould, fit for combat, -nerved to victory? And I maintain that such drawbacks, disappointments, -difficulties, and sufferings as the profession of Literature entails -are sweeter and nobler than the cares besetting other professions, -inasmuch as they are always accompanied by never-failing consolations. -If the pinch be poverty, the true servant of Literature can do with -less of this world’s goods than most people. Luxury is not called for -when one is rich in idealism and fancy. Heavy feeding will not make a -clear, quick brain. Extravagant apparel is a necessity for no one--and -genius was never yet born of a millionaire. - -If the “thorn in the flesh” is the petty abuse of one’s envious -contemporaries, that is surely a matter for rejoicing rather than -grief, as it is merely the continuance of an apparently “natural law in -the spiritual world” acting from the Inferior upon the Superior, which -may be worded thus: “Whosoever will be great, let him be flayed alive!” -Virgil was declared by Pliny to be destitute of invention; Aristotle -was styled “ignorant, vain, and ambitious” by both Cicero and Plutarch; -Plato was so jealous of Democritus that he proposed to burn up all his -works; Sophocles was brought to trial by his own children as a lunatic; -Horace was accused of stealing from all the minor Greek poets; and so -on in the same way down to our own times. - -Pope went so far as to make a collection of all the libels passed upon -him, and had them preserved and bound with singular care, though I -believe no one now knows where to find these scandalous splutterings -of Grub Street. Swift is reported to have said to the irate author of -the “Dunciad”: “Give me a shilling and I will ensure you that posterity -shall never know one single enemy against you excepting those whose -memory you _yourself_ have preserved.” Herein is a profound truth. The -malicious enemies of a great author only become known to the public -through the mistaken condescension of the great author’s notice. - -Milton’s life was embittered by the contemptible spite of one -Salmasius. Who was Salmasius? we ask nowadays. We do not task who was -Milton. Salmasius was the author of the “Defensio Regi” or Defence -of Kings, a poor piece of work long ago forgotten, and he was the -procurer of foul libel against the author of “Paradise Lost,” one -of England’s greatest and noblest men. What small claim he has to -the world’s memory arises merely from his viciousness, for not only -did he make use of the lowest tools to aid him in conspiring against -Milton’s reputation, but he spread the grossest lies broadcast, even -accusing the poet of having a hideous personal appearance--“a puny -piece of man; a homunculus; a dwarf deprived of the human figure; a -contemptible pedagogue.” When the despicable slanderer learned the -fact that Milton, so far from answering to this description, was of a -pleasing and attractive appearance, he immediately changed his tactics -and began to attack his moral character--which, as even Milton’s -bitterest political enemies knew, was austerely above the very shadow -of suspicion. It was said that the poet’s over-zealousness in answering -the calumnies of Salmasius cost him his eye-sight, which, if true, was -surely regrettable. Salmasius died dishonoured and disgraced, as such a -cowardly brute deserved to die; Milton still holds his glorious place -in England’s literary history. So it was, so it is, so it ever will be. - -Greatness is always envied--it is only mediocrity that can boast of a -host of friends. “When you have resolved to be great,” says Emerson, -“abide by yourself, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with -the world.” It is impossible to quote one single instance of a truly -great man existing without calumniators. And the Life Literary without -any enemies would be a shabby go-cart; or, as our American cousins put -it, a “one-horse concern.” Some lines that were taught to me when I was -a child seem apposite to this subject, and I quote them here for the -benefit of any struggling units of the Life Literary who may haply be -in need:-- - - - You have no enemies, you say? - Alas! my friend, the boast is poor-- - He who has mingled in the fray - Of duty, that the brave endure, - _Must_ have made foes! If you have none, - Small is the work that you have done; - You’ve hit no traitor on the hip, - You’ve dashed no cup from perjured lip, - You’ve never turned the wrong to right-- - You’ve been a coward in the fight![5] - - -But it is perhaps time that I should drop the masculine personal -pronoun for the feminine, and, being a woman, treat of the Life -Literary from the woman’s point of view. In olden days the profession -of literature was looked upon as a terrible thing for a woman to -engage in, and the observations of some very kindly and chivalrous -writers on this subject are not without pathos. To quote one example -only, can anything be more quaintly droll at this time of day than the -following:-- - -“Of all the sorrows in which the female character may participate there -are few more affecting than those of an Authoress--often insulated -and unprotected in society--with all the sensibility of the sex, -encountering miseries which break the spirits of men!” - -This delicate expression of sympathy for a woman’s literary struggles -was written by the elder Disraeli as late as 1840. Truly we have -raced along the rails of progress since then at express speed--and -the “affecting” sorrows of an “Authoress” (with a capital A) now -affect nobody except in so far as they make “copy” for the callow -journalist to hang a string of cheap sneers upon. The Authoress must -take part with the Author in the general rough-and-tumble of life--and -she cannot too quickly learn the truth that when once she enters -the literary arena, where men are already fisticuffing and elbowing -each other remorselessly, she will be met chiefly with “kicks and -no ha’pence.” She must fight like the rest, unless she prefers to -lie down and be walked over. If she elects to try for a first place, -it will take her all her time to win it, and, when won, to hold it; -and, in the event of her securing success, she must not expect any -chivalrous consideration from the opposite sex, or any special kindness -and sympathy from her own. For the men will consider her “out of her -sphere” if she writes books instead of producing babies, and the -women will, in nine cases out of ten, begrudge her the freedom and -independence she enjoys, particularly if such freedom and independence -be allied to fortune and fame. This all goes without saying. It has to -be understood and accepted uncomplainingly. The “old-fashioned” grace -of chivalry to women, once so proudly lauded by poets and essayists -as the distinguishing trait of all manly men, is not to be relied on -in the Life Literary--for there it is as dead as door-nails. Men can -be found in the literary profession who will do anything to “down” a -woman in the same calling, and, if they cannot for shame’s sake do it -openly, they will do it behind her back. “’Tis pitiful, ’tis wondrous -pitiful”--for the men! But if the woman concerned has studied her art -to any purpose she will accept calumny as a compliment, slander as -a votive wreath, and “envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness” (from -which, with pious hypocrisy, the most envious and uncharitable persons -pray “Good Lord deliver us” every Sunday) as so many tokens and -proofs of her admitted power. And none of these things need disturb -the equanimity of the Life Literary. “Can any man cast me out of the -Universe? He cannot; but whithersoever I may go there will be the -sun and the moon, and the stars and visions, and communion with the -gods!”[6] - -Speaking as a woman, I can quite understand and appreciate all the -little difficulties, irritations, and trials incident to a woman’s -career in literature; and though I myself welcome such difficulties -as so many incentives to fresh effort, I know that there are many of -my sex who, growing weary and discouraged, are not able to adopt this -attitude. And looking back into the past, one is bound to see a host of -brilliant women done to death by cruel injustice and misrepresentation, -a state of things which is quite likely to be continued as long as -humanity endures. - -But no useful object is served by brooding over this apparently -incurable evil. “The noble army of martyrs” who praise the Lord in the -“Te Deum” are likely to be of the sex feminine. But what does that -matter? It is more glorious to be martyred than to die of over-eating -and general plethora. Moreover mental or intellectual martyrdom is a -necessary ingredient for the “happy” life--a touch of it is like the -toothache, helping one to be duly thankful when the pain ceases. For, -if we never understood trouble, we should never taste the full measure -of joy. - -One thing can be very well dispensed with by both men and women who -look for happiness in the Life Literary, and that is the uneasy -hankering after what is called “Fame.” Fame has a habit of setting its -halo on the elected brows without any outside advice or assistance. -Those authors who are destined for it will assuredly win it, though -all the world should intervene; those for whom it is not intended must -content themselves with the temporary notoriety of pretty newspaper -puffs and “stock” compliments, such as “the renowned” or “well-known” -or “admired” author or authoress, and be glad and grateful for these -meaningless terms, inasmuch as the higher Fame itself at its utmost is -only a brief and very often inaccurate “line in history.” - -The rewards and emoluments of the happy life, such as I have always -found the Life Literary to be, are manifold and frequently incongruous. -They may be considered in two sections--the outward or apparent and the -interior or invisible. Concerning these I can only, of course, speak -from my own experience. The outward or apparent occur (so far as I -myself am concerned) as follows:-- - -1. Certain payments, small or large, made by publishers who undertake -to present one’s brain work to the world in print, and who do the best -they can for their authors, as well as for themselves. - -2. Public appreciation and condemnation, about equally divided. - -3. Critical praise and censure, six of one and half-a-dozen of the -other. - -4. Endless requests for autographs. - -5. Innumerable begging letters. - -6. Imperative, sometimes threatening, demands for “interviews.” - -7. Hundreds of love-letters. - -8. Continual offers of marriage. - -9. Shoals of MSS. sent by literary aspirants to be “placed” or -“recommended.” - -10. Free circulation of lies, caricatures, and slanders concerning -oneself, one’s personality, friends, ways of work, and general -surroundings. - -11. The grudging and bitter animosity of rival contemporaries. - -12. Persistent public and private mis-representation of one’s -character, aims, and intentions. - -But all these things taken together weigh very little when compared -with the other side of the medal--the interior and invisible delight -and charm of the Life Literary--the unpurchasable and never-failing -happiness which no external advantage can give, no inimical influence -take away. It is well-nigh impossible to enumerate the pleasures that -attend the lover and servant of Literature; they are multitudinous, -and, like all things spiritual, outweigh all things temporal. Here are -just a few among the kindly and constant favours of the gods:-- - -1. The power and affluence of creative thought. - -2. A perpetual sense of intimate participation in the wonders of Nature -and Art. - -3. A keen perception of the beautiful. - -4. Intense delight in the genius of all great men and women. - -5. A cheerful and contented spirit. - -6. Constant variety of occupation. - -7. Joy in simple things. - -8. The love of friends that are tried and true. - -9. The never-wearying interest of working to try and give pleasure to -one’s reading public. - -10. The gifts and glories of Imagination. - -11. Tranquillity of mind. - -12. Firm faith in noble ideals. - -And, to quote from Walt Whitman what the inward sense of the -“happiness” of the Life Literary really is, the disciple of Literature -may say:-- - -“I will show that there is no imperfection in the present and can be -none in the future. And I will show that, whatever happens to anybody, -it may be turned to beautiful results.” - -Were all the lives in the world offered to me for my choice, from the -estate of queens to that of commoners, I would choose the Life Literary -in preference to any other, as ensuring the greatest happiness. It -is full of the most lasting pleasure, it offers the most varied -entertainment, all the arts and sciences group themselves naturally -around it as with it and of it--for the literary student is, or should -be, as devout a lover of music as of poetry, as ardent an admirer -of painting and sculpture as of history and philosophy--that is, if -complete enjoyment of the literary gift is to be possessed completely. - -I take it, of course, for granted, in this matter of the “happy” life, -that the individual concerned, whether male or female, is neither -dyspeptic nor bilious, nor afflicted with the incurable _ennui_ of -utter selfishness, nor addicted to dram or drug drinking. Because under -unnatural conditions the mind itself becomes unnatural, and the Life -Literary is no more productive of happiness than any other life that is -self-poisoned at its source. But, given a sane mind in a sound body, a -clear brain, a quick perception, a keen imagination, a warm heart, and -a never-to-be-parted-with ideal of humanity at its best, noblest and -purest, then the Life Literary, with all the advantages it bestows, the -continuous education it fosters, the refinement of taste it engenders, -the love and sympathy of unknown thousands of one’s fellow-creatures -which it brings, is the sweetest, most satisfying, most healthful -and happy life in the world. Moreover it is a life of power and -responsibility--a life that forms character and tests courage. We -soon learn to know the force of a Thinker in our midst, whether man -or woman. We soon realize who it is that sends the lightning of -truth across our murky sky, when we see a sudden swarm of cowards -scurrying away from the storm and trying to shelter themselves under a -haystack of lies; and we invariably respect whosoever has the valour -of his or her opinions, and the strength to enunciate them boldly and -convincingly with a supreme indifference to conventional conveniences. -For “To know the truth,” says an Arabian sage, “is a great thing for -thyself; but to tell the truth to others is a greater thing for the -world!” - -FOOTNOTES: - -[5] The late Charles Mackay, LL.D. - -[6] Epictetus. - - - - -THE SOUL OF THE NATION - - -At the present time, and during the present time’s singularly loose -notions of manners, morals, and dignity of behaviour, it was perhaps -to be expected that some one or other of the daily newspapers would, -in sagacious appreciation of free “copy,” start a public discussion on -the religious faith of this Christian Empire. It was perhaps as equally -probable that considering the remarkable laxity of certain bishops -and ordained ministers of the gospel generally, a “press” question -should be put to the House of Tom, Dick and Harry--“Do We Believe?” -Granting the premises, it was hardly to be wondered at that Tom, Dick -and Harry should straightway arise in their strength and reply to the -question,--and not only Tom, Dick and Harry of the laity, but Tom, -Dick and Harry of the clergy likewise. Great was the discussion,--fast -and furious waged the war of words, and the Penny Daily which provoked -the combat was thus conveniently supplied with material for which -the proprietors,--most of them Sons of Israel,--had nothing to pay. -And now, the arguments being heard and ended, nobody is a whit the -wiser, though some few may be several whits the sadder. For to speak -honestly, nothing more reprehensible has ever smirched the career of -an English journal than the fact that it should have lent itself to the -advertized questioning of the nation’s religious faith. It was an open -flaunting of infidelity in the face of the civilized world. To talk -of the “conversion” of India, China or Japan, while a leading British -newspaper openly invites the notoriety-hunting section of the British -public to air their opinions of the Christian Faith in its columns, -just as if the Faith itself were on public trial in a Christian -country, is only one example of the many forms of utter Humbug in which -we are nowadays so unfortunately prone to indulge. Our sometimes-called -“heathen” ally, Japan, has lately taught us many lessons which perhaps -we knew once and have forgotten, and which perhaps we need to learn -again,--such as valour without conceit, strength without roughness, -and endurance without complaint,--but one of the greatest lessons of -all she has given us is that of her people’s pious reverence for the -Unseen and Eternal, and their belief in the ever-present “Spirits -of the Dead” whom they honour and will not shame. What a deplorable -contrast we make in our pandering to the lowest tastes of the mob when, -without a word of protest, we permit _our_ “Spirits of the Dead,”--the -spirits of our gallant forefathers who fought for the pure Faith of -England and sealed it with their blood,--to be degraded and insulted by -a cheap newspaper discussion on the most private and sacred emotions -of the soul, as though such a discussion were of a character suited to -take its place among police-cases and quack medical advertisements! -True, we are constantly being made aware that the British Press is no -longer the clean, sane, strong and reliable institution it once was, -when “personalities” were deemed vulgar, and lies dishonourable,--and -therefore we perhaps ought not to feel very greatly surprised when -the name and possible attributes of the Almighty Creator Himself are -dragged through the purlieus of “up-to-date” journalism,--but surely -there is something very deplorable and disgraceful in the fact that -any one professing to be a follower of the Christian Faith should have -replied to what can only be termed, considering the quarter from whence -it came, an ironical demand, “Do We Believe?” The best and wisest -answer would have been complete silence on the part of the public. No -more effectual “snubbing” to the non-Christian faction could have been -given. But unfortunately there are a certain class of persons whose -prime passion is to see themselves in print, and to this end they will -commit any folly and write any letter to the newspapers, even if it -be only to state that primroses were seen somewhat early in bloom in -their back yards. And such, chiefly, were the kind of men and women who -poured themselves into the channels of the “Do We Believe?” discussion, -like water running down the streets into gutters and mains,--never -seeming to realize that to the thinking and intellectual world, their -foolish letters, addressed to such a public quarter, merely proved -their utter loss of respect for themselves, not only as professing -Christians and subjects of a Christian Empire, but as men and women. No -real follower of a Faith--any Faith--would be so lost to every sense of -decency as to discuss it in a daily newspaper. As for the clergy who -took part in the boresome palaver, one can only marvel at them and -ask why they did not “veto” the whole thing at once? A penny paper is -not the Hall of Pontius Pilate. As ministers of Christ they might have -protested against a modern-vulgar “mock” trial of their Master. It was -in their power to do so, and such a protest would have redounded to -their honour. At any rate, they might themselves have abstained from -joining in the foolish and unnecessary gabble. For gabble it was, and -gabble it is. No useful cause has been served thereby and no advantage -gained. The Sons of Israel have asked a question,--and some of the -unwise among professing Christians, being caught in the Israelitish -trap, have answered it. The manner in which both question was put and -answer given, was unworthy of a country where the Christian Faith is -the guiding light of the realm. Matters of religion are of course -open to discussion in the treatise or book intended for quiet library -reading, or even in the better-class magazines, but to hawk sacred -subjects of personal sentiment and national creed about in the daily -wear of newspaper columns which equally include murders, divorces, -bigamies, stocks and shares, and the general _débris_ cast off as -flotsam and jetsam in the turgid waves of Mankind’s ever-recurring -mischief against itself, was to the last degree reprehensible and -regrettable. And this, if only for the possible impression likely to -be created by such an action among the peoples of those countries to -whom, with ridiculous inconsistency, we presume to send missionaries -for the purpose of “converting” them to a Creed we ourselves drag -through the mire of doubt in our daily press. Fortunately, however, the -matter, deplorably as it has exhibited our “religion” to the eyes of -“heathen” nations, has now come to an end. It has worked no change,--it -has strengthened no weak places,--it has helped no struggling effort -towards good. The Soul of the Nation has not been moved thereby, and -it is the Soul of the Nation--that great, silent patient and labouring -Soul with which all religion has to do,--that Soul, which the Christian -Creed, ever since it was first preached in Britain, has raised to such -a height of supremacy and power, that it needs all its reserve of sober -courage and devout humility to help it bear its honours greatly. For -has it not been said--“Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed -lest he fall!” - -One may look upon the innate spirit of Revivalism, exemplified in the -hysteric wave of preaching, praying and psalm-singing that has recently -spread over Wales and other districts, as so much instinctive and -natural popular rebellion against the insidious flood of atheism which -has for the past ten years been striving to poison all the channels -of man’s better health and saner condition,--rebellion too against -the apathetic coldness and shameless indifference of the ordained -clergy to the clamorous needs of those neglected “flocks” which -they are elected to serve. “Enough,” say the People, “of shams and -shows!--enough of ministers who only minister to themselves and their -own convenience!--enough of the preaching of the Gospel by men who do -not and will not fulfil a single one of its commands in their own lives -and actions! Let us have something forcible and earnest,--let us be -permitted to _feel_, even though we shout and sing ourselves hoarse -with the emotion which has been seething in us for years,--an emotion -which we cannot explain to ourselves, but which craves, with a passion -beyond all speech, for some touch of Heaven, some closer comprehension -of that ‘After-Death,’ which God keeps back from us like a prize or a -punishment for His obedient or rebellious children! Anything is better -than the cold dead inertia of the Churches, sunk as they are in a blind -lethargy from which they only bestir themselves dully when a chance -is offered to them of engaging in some petty personal quarrel. We are -weary of priestly humbug, selfishness and inefficiency--we will gather -ourselves together and re-assert our faith in the world to come, as -true disciples of the Lord!” And whether such Revivalists elect to -march under the banner of Cocoa Cadbury, (an excellent advertisement -for Cadbury,) or any other emblazoned device of a successful trading -concern, is not a matter of much moment. Starving folk will march -anywhere,--under anything or anybody,--if they are promised nourishment -at the end of the journey. And the Soul of the Nation is, at this -present period of time, starving to the point of inanition in all forms -of spiritual food. The Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep, but -the underlings who care not for the flock have let the wolves into the -fold. - -A thing which would appear to be frequently forgotten by those who hold -Governmental authority, is that the most vital, most powerful and most -active principle of a Nation is this spark of the Divine which for -want of any clearer mode of description we call the Soul. The Soul of -a single individual man or woman is the mere copy in miniature of the -Soul of a race, or the Soul of a world. An involuntary, half-conscious, -but nevertheless resistless impetus towards ultimate Good is the Soul’s -original quality and inborn Ideal. For, if the human weakness of the -fleshly creature impel it towards temporary phases of evil, sooner -or later the Soul will set to work to pull it out of the stifling -quagmire. Material Nature is, as we all know, a remedial agent, and -wherever mischief is wrought she seeks to amend it. Spiritual Nature -is a still stronger healer. For every injury self-inflicted or wrought -by others on the immortal Soul she has a saving balm,--and for every -inch of progress which the Soul essays to make along the lines leading -to good, she helps it forward a mile. Individuals find this out very -soon in their own personal experience,--Nations discover it more -slowly, first, because they have a longer time to live and learn than -the individual unit,--and secondly because, moving in great masses, -their periods of transit from one epoch of civilization to another -must necessarily be more laborious and difficult. But in all epochs, -in all eras, the Soul wins. The fiery leaven which is of God, works -through the lump in various strange and complex forms till the whole is -leavened. And those nations in which the Soul, or Spirit of the Ideal, -is crushed and kept down by the iron hand of Materialism, are very soon -seen to fall back in the rear of progress,--so far back indeed that -we are fain to speak of them as “decaying nations,” though of a truth -no decay is possible to them, but only temporary retrogression, which -will in due course revert to progress again when the Soul is once more -allowed to have its way. But Governments whose common law of procedure -is to put this Soul or “spirit of the Ideal,” in the background as a -kind of myth or chimera, and who seek to settle everything pertaining -to the interests of the people by what they term “practical” methods, -(which often prove wholly _un_practical,) are naturally prone to forget -that whatever they do, whatever they say, the busy Soul of the Nation -is altogether outside and above them, fighting for itself, often -desperately and piteously, and struggling to make use of its wings and -rise higher and ever higher despite its hobbles of iron and feet of -clay. Religion is supposed to give it this, its demanded freedom of -noble flight, and the Christian religion, above all religions in the -world, with its consoling teaching that out of sorrow cometh joy, and -out of Death is born Life, should make for the happiness and peace of -every living creature. But when the very ministers of that glorious -Faith cast doubt upon it, and live their own lives in direct opposition -to it,--when undevout and therefore limited scientists dissect a midge -of truth in order to launch a leviathan of fallacious theory,--when -there is no ONE pure and simple Church of Christ where all may meet in -honest worship of His perfect Creed, but only a million Sects which -blaspheme His Divine memory by their outrageous and petty quarrels one -with the other,--it is no matter for surprise that a strong revulsion -of feeling should set in, or that the Soul of the Nation, conceiving -itself grievously wronged and neglected, should try to find some -fresh path of its own heavenward,--some way out of mere Sham--in the -belief that if it obeys its own instinctive desire towards the Highest -Ideal, God will not suffer it to go far astray. For the quarrels of -the Churches are the second crucifixion of Christ. The apathy of -the priesthood is the deliberate casting away to sin of the people. -Where there is no unity, there is no force; and the divine founder of -Christianity Himself has told us that a house divided against itself -shall not stand. - -Yet when one comes to think of it, it is the strangest thing in the -world that Christians should quarrel, seeing how plain and clear -are the instructions left to them for their guidance by the Master -whom they profess to serve. The New Testament is easy reading. Its -commands are brief and concise enough. There would seem to be no -room for discussion or difference. Why should there be followers of -Luther, Wesley, or any other limited human preacher or teacher, when -all that is necessary is that we should be followers of Christ? The -Soul of the Nation asks no more than this Gospel of Love, lovingly -imparted,--it seeks but for the one firm faith in the eternal things -which are its birthright,--a faith held purely, and wholly undoubted -by those whose high mission is to teach it to each generation in -turn,--it craves no more than that touch of heavenly sympathy which -makes the whole world kin--that holy link which binds all mankind -together in one strong knot of indissoluble spiritual belief in the -love and justice; the Unseen Force behind Creation, which will surely, -out of the verities of that same love and justice, grant us a future -life wherein will be made clear to us the reason and necessity of -our strange sufferings, martyrdoms, disappointments and losses in -this present mere brief episode of living. The Soul of the Nation -does not in itself ask reward for its good deeds,--nor does it weakly -complain if punishment be inflicted upon it for its evil ones,--but -it does demand justice,--it does ask why, for no conscious fault of -its own, it should be born, only to die. Were this question never to -be answered, then the mathematical exactitude with which everything, -small or great, is balanced in the universe would be a merely elaborate -scheme of unnecessary fallacy, irrationally designed for the delusion -of creatures who are not worth the trouble of deluding. No one who -is sane and morally healthy can contemplate such an idea as this for -a moment,--it follows therefore that Man, living as he does between -two Infinities, and endowed with a brain which can spiritually -consider both without reeling, must be guided by some great and -illimitably wise destiny towards ends he knows not, but which he -may be reverently permitted to believe are for his better progress, -greater happiness and higher understanding, and that he needs, out -of all things in the world, a Faith, by which his soul shall be kept -strong and pure, his mind steady, and his sympathies active. No mockery -of Christianity, such as that of Servian priests who have publicly -blessed regicides,--no cruel tyranny, such as that of the Greek Church -which dares to appeal to a God of Love while the mighty masses of the -Russian people remain steeped in misery, and are, by very wretchedness, -driven to crime,--no cold Conventionality of Form and Custom, such as -is practised in fashionable London “West End” churches where society -humbugs gather together to listen smirkingly to the civil cant of other -society humbugs in surplices, who, passing for ministers of Christ, -almost fear to preach the Gospel as it was written, lest its plain -blunt truths should offend some highly-placed personage,--none of this -kind of “religion” at all is of use,--but faith,--real faith--real -aspiration--real uplifting to the Ideal of all things noble, all -things great, wise, helpful and true. This, at the present crucial -moment of time, is what the Soul of the Nation demands,--and not only -the Soul of our own beloved and glorious Nation, but the Souls of -all nations whatsoever on the globe. They stand up,--each in place, -each on its own spiritual plane,--stern, strong and beautiful;--like -the fabled statue of Memnon they face the sunrise, and at the first -touch of the first ray of glory they speak. Their voices are as -thunder among the spheres,--they demand what they deserve,--justice, -hope, comfort, uplifting! To the mystic High Altar of the Infinite -and Eternal they lift their praying hands, and to the priests of all -religions they appeal. “Give us the Way, the Truth and the Life! Cease -your own wranglings and petty disputations,--have done with mere -human dogma concerning the matters of life and death,--let us see the -MAN, Christ,--He who suffered our sorrows, and knew our need,--the -Brother, the Friend, the Helper, for whom, in braver days than these, -men gladly gave their lives to sword and fire and the jaws of wild -beasts,--is there no manhood left now of such undaunted mettle?--is -there not one who will think of US, the Nations, who hunger for the -glorious vitality of Faith, which, like the blood in our veins, keeps -us warm and young and vigorous? Or must we perish in the devil-clutch -of Materialism, and go down to the depths, thrust there by the very men -who have been elected to hold us close to God? We demand our rights -in the Divine and Eternal Love!--and these rights, born in us from -the beginning, we will have, even if all present-existing human forms -and fabrics of creed go down in our struggle for the one pure faith -under whose holy influence we shall become stronger and wiser, and -better able to understand our work and place in creation! The gates of -Life shall not be shut upon us;--we will not accept the materialist’s -latter-day testimony that death shall be the end of all. For if there -be an Eternal Good we are part of its being and share in its Eternal -attributes. And we say,--we Souls of the Nations,--to all our preachers -and teachers and representatives of the Divine on earth--Lift us up! Do -not cast us down! Be yourselves the models of what you would have US -become!--so shall we be willing and ready to learn from you,--so shall -we honour, love and patiently follow you. But if you, as ministers of -religion, show yourselves worse hypocrites than the very sinners whom -the law condemns, then beware of us and our just vengeance! For you -take from us our very life-blood, when you cheat us of the hope of -Heaven!” - -This is true. A Nation robbed of its faith, is like a human body robbed -of its heart--it has neither pulse nor motion,--it is the mere corpse -of itself lying prone in the dust of perishable waste things. And the -fact that grave retribution will follow the steps of those who assist -in bringing it to this doom cannot be doubted. Such retribution has -then been visited heavily on over-prosperous peoples, who, misled by -special pleaders in the cause of Materialism have set God aside out -of their countings as a non-proven quantity. The “non-proven” has -always proved itself with crushing swiftness and authority in the -fall of great powers, the shaking of great thrones, and the ruin and -degradation of great names,--while very often a calamitous climax of -misery and disaster has befallen an entire civilization and brought it -to utter decay. Such occurrences are traceable through all history, -and always appear to result from the same cause,--the crushing out of -the vital principle, the spiritual starving of the Soul of a Nation. -Heaven has not denied or diminished its bounteous nourishment and -blessing,--for, in our own day, the wonders of Science have opened out -to our view such infinite reaches of the Ideal as should double and -treble our perception of the glories yet to be unfolded to us when we -have “shuffled off this mortal coil”--while at the same time, nothing -in all our changing phases of progress has yet occurred to alter the -simple and noble teaching of Christ, or to make such instruction -otherwise than sane, pure and helpful for every man, woman and child -ever born. Indeed, it would seem with the marvellous new penetration -we have gained into the secrets of the earth, air and light, that the -Infinite Creator is approaching His creature even more nearly, with -fresh pledges of help and promise such as His Messenger brought in the -words: “Fear not, little flock,--it is your Father’s good pleasure to -give you the Kingdom.” And to the Soul of the Nation that “Kingdom” is -everything. In that kingdom it hopes to find all it has loved and lost, -all it has striven for and failed to win, all that it has prayed for, -wept for, worked for. Yet to-day between that aspiring Soul and its -immortal Inheritance stand two deadly enemies,--a contentious Churchdom -and a capitalized Press,--the one hypocrite, the other materialist. -And the satirical demand “Do we Believe?” is but an echo of Pilate’s -question “What is truth?”--a question immediately followed by Truth’s -crucifixion. Nevertheless the Soul of the Nation--our nation, our -empire--is becoming aware of its enemies. It is instinctively conscious -of threatening evil, and is on the alert to save Itself if others -will not save it. But its way out of the labyrinth of difficulty will -probably be neither through Church nor Press,--nor will it be aided -by “revival” meetings or Salvationist assemblies. Its path will be -cloven straight,--not crookedly; for the British Nation, above all -other nations in the world, does most easily sicken of priestly Sham -and subsidized Journalism. And the sane, strong Soul of it--that Soul -which in its native intrinsic virtue, is devoutly God-fearing, pure and -true, will find means to shake off its pressing foes and stand free. -For priestcraft and dogma are like prison chains fastened upon the -progressive spirit of humanity, and they have nothing in common with -the simple teaching of Christ, which is the only real Christianity. - - -BUTLER & TANNER, THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS, FROME, AND LONDON. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREE OPINIONS *** - -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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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Free Opinions</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>Freely Expressed on Certain Phases of Modern Social Life and Conduct</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Marie Corelli</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 18, 2021 [eBook #66079]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREE OPINIONS ***</div> - -<div class="mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber’s Note:<br /><br /> -Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.<br /></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="front" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> - -<h1>FREE OPINIONS<br />FREELY EXPRESSED</h1> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/books.jpg" alt="CONSTABLES NEW 6/- NOVELS" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">FREE OPINIONS</p> - -<p class="bold">FREELY EXPRESSED</p> - -<p class="bold">ON</p> - -<p class="bold">Certain Phases of Modern Social<br />Life and Conduct</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">By</p> - -<p class="bold2">MARIE CORELLI</p> - -<p class="bold">AUTHOR OF “GOD’S GOOD MAN” “TEMPORAL POWER”<br /> -“BARABBAS” “THE MASTER CHRISTIAN” ETC</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">LONDON<br />ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO <span class="smcap">Ltd</span><br />1905</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Butler & Tanner,<br /> -The Selwood Printing Works,<br />Frome, and London.</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>A Toi, <br />Sauvage!</h2> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>“Si vous voulez combattre,</div> -<div class="i2">Il faut croire d’abord;</div> -<div>Il faut que le lutteur</div> -<div class="i2">Affirme la justice;</div> -<div>Il faut, pour le devoir</div> -<div class="i2">Qu’il s’offre au sacrifice,</div> -<div>Et qu’il soit le plus pur,</div> -<div class="i2">S’il n’est pas le plus fort.”</div> -<div class="i8"><span class="smcap">Eugène Manuel.</span></div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Vital Point of Education</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Responsibility of the Press</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">“<span class="smcap">Pagan London</span>”</td> - <td><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">A Question of Faith</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Unchristian Clerics</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Social Blight</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Death of Hospitality</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Vulgarity of Wealth</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">American Women in England</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The American Bounder</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Coward Adam</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Accursëd Eve</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">“Imaginary” Love</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Advance of Woman</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Palm of Beauty</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Madness of Clothes</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Decay of Home Life in England</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span><span class="smcap">Society and Sunday</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The “Strong” Book of the Ishbosheth</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Making of Little Poets</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Prayer of the Small Country M.P.</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Thanksgiving of the Small Country M.P.’s Wife</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Vanishing Gift</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Power of the Pen</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Glory of Work</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Happy Life</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_326">326</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Soul of the Nation</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_340">340</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> - -<h2>AUTHOR’S NOTE</h2> - -<p>Some of these social papers which are now collected together for the -first time, have appeared before in various periodicals enjoying -a simultaneous circulation in this country and the United States. -Eleven of them were written for an American syndicate, which (for the -purpose of copyright in Great Britain) sold them to a London weekly -journal, wherein they were duly issued. “Pagan London,” however, which -caused some little public discussion, was not included among those -supplied to the American syndicated press, that article having been -written specially for readers in this country as a protest against -Archdeacon Sinclair’s sweeping condemnation of the lax morality and -neglect of religion among the teeming millions that populate our -great English metropolis,—a condemnation which I ventured, and still -venture to think unfair, in the face of the open worldliness, and gross -inattention to the spiritual needs of their congregations on the part -of a very large majority of the clergy themselves. Certain people, -whose brains must be of that peculiar density which is incapable -of receiving even the impression of a shadow of common sense, have -since accused me of attacking “all” the clergy. Such an accusation is -unwarranted and unwarrantable, for no one appreciates more than I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> do -the brave, patient, self-denying and silent work of the true ministers -of the Gospel, who, seeking nothing for themselves, sacrifice all for -their Master. But it is just these noble clergy whose high profession -is degraded by the ever-increasing tribe of the false hypocrites of -their order, such as those mentioned in “Unchristian Clerics,” all -of whom have come within the radius of my own personal experience. I -readily admit that I have little patience with humbug of any kind, -and that “religious” humbug does always seem to me more like open -blasphemy than what is commonly called by that name. I equally confess -that I have no sympathy with any form of faith which needs continuous -blatant public advertisement in the press of a so-called “Christian” -country—nor do I believe in a Brass-band “revival” of what, if our -religion is religion at all, should never need “reviving.” I have put -forward these views plainly in “The Soul of the Nation,” which appears -for the first time in the present volume.</p> - -<p>I have only to add that I attach no other merit to such “opinions” as -will be found in the following pages, than that they are honest, and -that they are honestly expressed, without fear or favour. This is their -only claim upon the attention of the public.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stratford-on-Avon</span>,<br /> -<span class="s4"> </span><i>March, 1905</i>.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h2>A VITAL POINT OF EDUCATION</h2> - -<p>In days like these, when the necessity of Education, technical or -otherwise, is strenuously insisted upon by all the learned, worshipful, -governmental and dictatorial personages who “sit” on County Councils, -or talk the precious time recklessly away in Parliament without -apparently arriving at any decision of definite workable good for the -nation, it will not perhaps be considered obtrusive or intrusive if a -suggestion be put forward as to the importance of one point,—</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Necessity of Teaching People to Read.</span></p> - -<p>This essential of education is sadly lacking among the general majority -of “educated” persons in Great Britain, and I think I may say America. -Especially among those of the “upper” classes, in both countries. -When we speak of these “upper” classes, we mean of course those, who -by chance or fortune have been born either to such rank or to such -sufficient wealth as to be lifted above the toiling million, and -who may be presumed to have had all the physical, mental and social -advantages that tuition, training and general surroundings can give -them. Yet it is precisely among these that we find the ones who cannot -read, who frequently cannot spell, and whose handwriting is so bad as -to be well-nigh illegible. When it is said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> that they cannot read, -that statement is not intended to convey the idea that if a book or -newspaper be given to them they do not understand the letters or the -print in which the reading matter is presented to their eyes. They -do. But such letters and such print impress no meaning upon their -minds. Anyone can prove this by merely asking them what they have been -reading. In nine cases out of ten they “don’t know.” And if they ever -did know, during one unusual moment of brain-activity, they “forget.” -The thinking faculty is, with them, like a worn-out sieve, through -which everything runs easily and drops to waste. The news of the day, -be it set forth never so boldly in no matter what startlingly stout -headlines, barely excites their interest for more than a second. -They may perhaps glance at a couple of newspaper placards and lazily -observe, “Russia at it again,” but of the ins and outs of policy, the -difficulties of Government, the work of nations, they grasp absolutely -nothing. Thus it happens that when they are asked their opinion on -any such events of the hour as may be making history in the future, -they display their utter ignorance in such a frankly stupid fashion -that any intelligent enquirer is bound to be stunned by their lack -of knowledge, and will perhaps murmur feebly: “Have you not read the -news?” to which will come the vague reply: “Oh, yes, I read all the -newspapers! But I really don’t remember the particulars just now!” What -they do remember—these “cultured” persons, (and the more highly they -are cultured, the more tenacious appears to be their memory in this -respect)—is a divorce case. They always read that carefully over and -over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> again. They comment upon it afterwards with such gusto as to make -it quite evident to the merest tyro, that they have learned all its -worst details by heart. If they can only revel in the published shame -and disgrace of one or two of their very “dearest” friends, they enjoy -and appreciate that kind of mental fare more than all the beautiful -poems and idyllic romances ever written.</p> - -<p>The “million” have long ago learned to read,—and are reading. The last -is the most important fact, and one which those who seek to govern them -would do well to remember. For their reading is of a most strange, -mixed, and desultory order—and who can say what wondrous new notions -and disturbing theories may not leap out sprite-like from the witch’s -cauldron of seething ideas round which they gather, watching the -literary “bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,” wherein the “eye of newt -and toe of frog” in the book line may contrast with something which is -altogether outside the boiling hotch-potch,—namely that “sick eagle -looking at the sky” which is the true symbol of the highest literary -art. But the highest literary art, particularly in its poetic form, is -at a discount nowadays. And why? Simply because even the million do -not know “how” to read. Moreover, it is very difficult to make them -learn. They have neither the skill nor the patience to study beautiful -thoughts expressed in beautiful language. They want to “rush” something -through. Whether poem, play, or novel, it must be “rushed through” and -done with. Very few authors’ work, if any, can be sure of an honest and -unprejudiced reading, either by those whose business it is to review -it for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> press, or those whose pleasure it is to “skim” it for -themselves. “They have no time.” They have time for motoring, cycling, -card-playing, racing, betting, hockey and golf,—anything in short -which does not directly appeal to the intellectual faculties,—but for -real reading, they can neither make leisure, nor acquire aptitude.</p> - -<p>This vague, sieve-like quality of brain and general inability to -comprehend or retain impressions of character or events, which is -becoming so common among modern so-called “readers” of books, can but -make things very difficult for authors who seek to contribute something -of their utmost and best to the world of literature. Most men and -women who feel the “divine afflatus,” and who are able to write in a -style above the average, must be conscious of a desire to rise yet -higher than any of their own attempted efforts, and to do something -new, strong, and true enough to hold life and lasting in it when other -contemporary work is forgotten. It is the craving of the “sick eagle -looking at the sky” perhaps, nevertheless it is a noble craving. In -taking an aim, it is as well to let fly at the moon, even if one only -hits a tree. But when fiery-footed Pegasus would fain gallop away with -its rider into the realms of imagination and enchantment,—when the -aspiring disciple of literature, all aglow with freshness and fervour, -strives to catch some new spirit of thought as it rushes past on its -swift wings, or seeks to create some fair consoling idyll of human -circumstance, then all the publishers stand massed in the way and cry -“Halt!” “Don’t let us have any great ideas!” they say—“They are above -the heads of the public. Be domestic—be <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>matrimonially iniquitous,—be -anything in the line of fiction but ‘great.’ Don’t give us new things -to think about,—the public have no time to think. What they want is -just something to glance at between tea and dinner.”</p> - -<p>Now this condition of affairs, which is positively disastrous to all -literary art, is brought about by the lack of the one vital point in -the modern education of the British and American people,—namely, that -they have not been taught “how” to read. As a result of this, they -frequently pronounce a book “too long” or “too dull,”—too this, or too -that, without having looked at more than perhaps twenty pages of its -contents. They will skim over any amount of cheap newspapers and trashy -society “weeklies” full of the unimportant movements and doings of he -and she and they, but to take up a book with any serious intention of -reading it thoroughly, is a task which only the thoughtful few will -be found ready to undertake. What is called the appreciation of the -“belles lettres” is indeed “caviare to the general.” Knowledge brings -confidence; and if it were made as much the fashion to read as it is to -ride in motor-cars, some improvement in manners and conduct might be -the happy result of such a prevailing taste. But as matters stand at -the present day, there are a large majority of the “educated” class, -who actually do not know the beginnings of “how” to read. They have -never learned—and some of them will never learn. They cannot realize -the unspeakable delight and charm of giving one’s self up to one’s -author, <i>sans</i> prejudice, <i>sans</i> criticism, <i>sans</i> everything that -could possibly break or mar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> the spell, and being carried on the wings -of gentle romance away from Self, away from the everyday cares and -petty personalities of social convention, and observance, and living -“with” the characters which have been created by the man or woman whose -fertile brain and toiling pen have unitedly done their best to give -this little respite and holiday to those who will take it and rejoice -in it with gratitude.</p> - -<p>Few there are nowadays who will so permit themselves to be carried -away. Far larger is the class of people who take up a novel or a -volume of essays, merely to find fault with it and fling it aside half -unread. The attitude of the bad-tempered child who does not know what -toy to break next, is the attitude of many modern readers. Nothing is -more manifestly unfair to an author than to judge a book by the mere -“skimming” of its pages, and this injustice becomes almost felonious -when the merits or demerits of the work are decided without reading it -at all. For instance, Smith meets Jones in the train which is taking -them out to their respective “little places” in the country, and says:</p> - -<p>“Have you read So-and-So’s latest book? If not, don’t!” Whereupon -Jones murmurs: “Really! So bad as all that! Have <i>you</i> read it?” -To which Smith rejoins rudely: “No! And don’t intend! I’ve <i>heard</i> -all about it!” And Jones, acquiescing feebly, decides that he must -“taboo” that book, also its author, lest perhaps Mrs. Jones’ virtue -be put to the blush at the mention of either. Now if Smith dared to -condemn a tradesman in this way, and depreciated his goods to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> Jones -in such wise that the latter should be led to avoid him altogether, -that tradesman could claim damages for injuring his character and -depriving him of custom. Should not the same rule apply to authors when -they are condemned on mere hearsay? Or when their work is wilfully -misrepresented and misquoted in the press?</p> - -<p>It may not, perhaps, be considered out of place here to recall a -“personal reminiscence” of the wilful misrepresentation made to a -certain section of the public of a novel of mine entitled “Temporal -Power.” That book had scarcely left the printer’s hands when W. T. -Stead, of the <i>Review of Reviews</i>, wrote me a most cordial letter, -congratulating me on the work, and averring that it was “the best” -of all I had done. But in his letter he set forth the startling -proposition that I “must have meant” King Edward, our own gracious -Sovereign, for my “fictional” King, Queen Alexandra for the Queen, -the Prince of Wales for my “Prince Humphry,” and Mr. Chamberlain for -the defaulting Secretary of State, who figures in the story as “Carl -Perousse.” I was so amazed at this curious free translation of my -ideas, that at first I thought it was “Julia” who had thus persuaded -Mr. Stead to see things upside down. But as his criticism of the book -had not yet appeared in the <i>Review of Reviews</i>, I wrote to him at -once, and earnestly assured him of the complete misapprehension he -had made of my whole scope and intention. Despite this explanation on -my part, however, Mr. Stead wrote and published a review of the book -maintaining his own fabricated “case” against me, notwithstanding -the fact that he held my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> denial of his assertions in his possession -<i>before</i> the publication of his criticism! And though a dealer in -meat, groceries, and other food stuffs may obtain compensation if his -wares are wilfully misrepresented to the buying public, the purveyor -of thoughts or ideas has no remedy when such thoughts or ideas are -deliberately and purposefully falsified to the world through the press. -Yet the damage is surely as great,—and the injury done to one’s honest -intention quite as gratuitous. From this little incident occurring to -myself, I venture to say in reference to the assertion that people do -not know how to read, that if those who “rushed” through the misleading -criticism of “Temporal Power” had honestly read the book so criticized -for themselves, they would have seen at once how distorted was Mr. -Stead’s view of the whole story. But,—while many who had read the book -and <i>not</i> the review, laughed at the bare notion of there being any -resemblance between my fictional hero-king of romance and the Sovereign -of the British Empire, others, reading the review only, foolishly -decided that I must have written some “travesty” upon English royalty, -and condemned the book <i>without reading it</i>. This is what all authors -have a right to complain of,—the condemnation or censure of their -books by persons who have not read them. For though there never was so -much reading matter put before the public, there was never less actual -“reading” in the truest and highest sense of the term than there is at -present.</p> - -<p>To read, as I take it, means to sit down quietly and enjoy a book in -its every line and expression. Whether it be tragic or humourous, -simple or ornate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> it has been written to beguile us from our daily -routine of life, and to give us a little change of thought or mood. -It may please us, or it may make us sad—it may even anger us by -upsetting our pet theories and contradicting us on our own lines of -argument; but if it has taken us away for a time from ourselves, it -has fulfilled the greater part of its mission, and done us a good -turn. Those who have really learned to read, are no encouragers of the -Free Library craze. The true lover of books will never want to peruse -volumes that are thumbed and soiled by hundreds of other hands—he or -she will manage to buy them and keep them as friends in the private -household. Any book, save the most expensive “édition de luxe,” can -be purchased for a few shillings,—a little saving on drugged beer -and betting would enable the most ordinary mechanic to stock himself -with a very decent library of his own. To borrow one’s mental fare -from Free Libraries is a dirty habit to begin with. It is rather like -picking up eatables dropped by some one else in the road, and making -one’s dinner off another’s leavings. One book, clean and fresh from the -bookseller’s counter, is worth half a dozen of the soiled and messy -knock-about volumes, which many of our medical men assure us carry -disease-germs in their too-frequently fingered pages. Free Libraries -are undoubtedly very useful resorts for betting men. They can run in, -glance at the newspapers for the latest “Sporting Items” and run out -again. But why ratepayers should support such houses of call for these -gentry remains a mystery which one would have to pierce through all -the Wool and Wobble of Municipal Corporations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> to solve. An American -“professor”—(there are so many of them) spoke to me the other day in -glowing terms of Andrew Carnegie. “He’s cute, you bet!” he remarked, -“he goes one better than Pears’ Soap! Pears has got to pay for the -upkeep of his hoardings, but Carnegie plants his down in the shape of -libraries and gets the British ratepayer to keep them all going! Ain’t -he spry!”</p> - -<p>Poor British ratepayer! It is to be feared he is easily gulled! -But,—to return to the old argument—if he knew “how” to read—really -knew,—he would not be so easily taken in, even by the schemes of -philanthropy. He would buy his books himself, and among them he might -even manage to secure a copy of a very interesting volume published in -America, so I am given to understand, which tells us how Carnegie made -his millions, and how he sanctioned the action of the Pinkerton police -force in firing on his men when they “struck” for higher wages.</p> - -<p>Apropos of America and things American, there is just now a pretty -little story started in the press on both sides of the water, about -British novels and British authors no longer being wanted in the United -States. The Children of the Eagle are going to make their fiction -themselves. All power to their elbows! But British authors will do -themselves no harm by enquiring carefully into this report. It may -even pay some of them to send over a private agent on their own behalf -to study the American book stores, and take count of the thousands of -volumes of British fiction which are selling there “like hot cakes,” to -quote a choice expression of Transatlantic slang. It is quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> evident -that the Children of the Eagle purchase British fiction. It is equally -evident that the publishers who cater for the Children of the Eagle -are anxious to get British fiction cheap, and are doing this little -deal of the “No demand” business from an acute sense of urgency. It is -all right, of course! If I were an American publisher and had to pay -large prices to popular British authors for popular British fiction -(now that “piracy” is no longer possible), I should naturally tell -those British authors that they are not wanted in America, and that it -is very good and condescending of me to consider their wares at all. -I should give a well-known British author from £100 to £500 for the -sole American rights of his or her newest production, and proceed to -make £5,000 or £7,000 profit out of it. That kind of thing is called -“business.” I should never suspect the British author of being so base -as to send over and get legal statements as to how his or her book was -selling, or to take note of the thousands of copies stacked up every -day in the stores, to be melted away as soon as stacked, in the hands -of eager purchasers. No! As a strictly honourable person, I should -hope that the British author would stay at home and mind his or her -own business. But let us suppose that the American publisher’s latest -delicate “feeler” respecting the “No demand for British literature” -were true, it would seem that Americans, even more than the British, -require to be taught “how” to read. If one may judge from their own -output of literature, the lesson is badly needed. Ralph Waldo Emerson -remains, as yet, their biggest literary man. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> knew “how” to read, -and from that knowledge learned “how” to write. But no American author -has come after him that can be called greater than he, or as great. -Concerning the art of fiction, the present American “make” is, whatever -the immediate “catching on” of it may be, distinctly ephemera of the -utmost ephemeral. Such “literature” would not exist even in America, if -Americans knew “how” to read. What is called the “Yellow Journalism” -would not exist either. Why? Because a really educated reader of things -worth reading would not read it—and it would therefore be a case of -the wicked ceasing to trouble and the weary being at rest.</p> - -<p>There is a general complaint nowadays—especially among authors—of -the “decadence” of literature. It is true enough. But the cause of the -“decadence” is the same—simply and solely that people cannot and will -not read. They do not know “how” to do it. If they ever did know in the -bygone days of Dickens and Thackeray, they have forgotten. Every book -is “too long” for them. Yet scarcely any novel is published now as long -as the novels of Dickens, which were so eagerly devoured at one time by -tens of thousands of admiring readers. A short, risky, rather “nasty” -book, (reviewers would call it strong, but that is only a little joke -of theirs,—they speak of this kind of literature as though it were -cheese) finds most favour with the “upper” circles of society in Great -Britain and America. Not so with the “million” though. The million -prefer simpler fare—and they read a good deal—though scarcely in the -right way. It is always more a case of “skimming”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> than reading. If -they are ever taught the right way to read, they may become wiser than -any political government would like them to be. For right reading makes -right thinking—and right thinking makes right living—and right living -would result in what? Well! For one thing, members of councils and -other “ruling” bodies would be lazier than ever, with less to do—and -the Education Act would no longer be necessary, as the fact of simply -knowing “how” to read, would educate everybody without further trouble.</p> - -<p>Dear Sir or Madam,—read! Don’t “skim”! Learn your letters! Study the -pronunciation and meaning of words thoroughly first, and then you may -proceed to sentences. Gradually you will be able to master a whole -passage of prose or poetry in such a manner as actually to understand -it. That will be a great thing! And once you understand it, you may -even possibly remember it! And then,—no matter how much you may have -previously been educated,—your education will only have just begun.</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/dec.jpg" alt="Decoration" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PRESS</h2> - -<p>Not very long ago a Royal hint was given by one of the wisest and most -tactful among the great throned Rulers of the world, to that other -ruling power which is frequently alluded to as “the Fourth Estate.” -Edward the Seventh, King by the Grace of God over Great Britain and -all the dependencies which flourish under the sign of the Rose, -Shamrock and Thistle, using that courteous and diplomatic manner which -particularly belongs to him, expressed his “hope” that the Gentlemen -of the Press would do their best to foster amity and goodwill between -the British Empire and other nations. Now amongst the many kindly, -thoughtful, sagacious and farsighted things which His Majesty has done -since he ascended the English Throne, that highest seat of honour in -the world—perhaps this mild and friendly suggestion to the Press is -one of the most pointed, necessary and admirable. It is a suggestion -which, if accepted in the frank, manly and magnanimous spirit in -which it has been conveyed, would make for the peace of Europe. Petty -insult often begets serious strife, and the cheap sneer of a would-be -“smart” journalist at another country’s governmental mistakes may lead -to consequences undreamt of in newspaper-office philosophy. Yet the -journalist, as journalist, is scarcely to blame if, in a praiseworthy -desire to give a “selling”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> impetus to the paper on which he is -employed, he gets up a little bit of speculative melodrama, such as -“German Malignity,” “Russian Trickery,” “Mysterious Movements of the -Fleet,” “French Insult to the King,” “America’s Secret Treaty,” or -“Alarming Eastern Rumours.” He is perhaps not in any way departing -from his own special line of business if he counts on the general -gullibility of the public, though in this matter he is often liable to -be himself gulled. For the public have been so frequently taken in by -mere “sensationalism” in war news and the like, that they are beginning -to view all such rumours with more contempt than credence. Nevertheless -the ambitious little Press boys (for they are only boys in their lack -of discernment, whatever may be their external appearance as grown -men) do not deserve so much reproof for their hot-headed, impulsive -and thoughtless ways as the personages set in authority over them, -whose business it is to edit their “copy” before passing it on to the -printers. <i>They</i> are the responsible parties,—and when they forget the -dignity of their position so much as to allow a merely jejune view of -the political situation to appear in their journals, under flamboyant -headlines which catch the eye and ensnare the attention of the more -or less uninstructed crowd, one naturally deplores the lapse of their -honourable duty. For in this way a great deal of harm may be done and -endless misunderstanding and mischief created. It is quite wrong and -wholly unpatriotic that the newspapers of any country should strive to -foster ill-feeling between conflicting nations or political parties. -When they engage in this kind of petty strife one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> is irresistibly -reminded of the bad child in the nursery who, seeing his two little -brothers quarrelling, cries out: “Go it, Tom! Go it, Jack! Hit him in -the eye!” and then, when the hit is given and mutual screams follow, -runs to his mother with the news—“Ma! Tom and Jack are fighting!” -carefully suppressing the fact that he helped to set them at it. And -when the trouble begins to be serious, and national recriminations are -freely exchanged, it is curious to note how quickly the Press, on both -sides, assumes the attitude of an almost matronly remonstrance. One -hears in every leading article the “How can you behave so, Jack? What a -naughty boy you are, Tom! Positively, I am ashamed of you both!”</p> - -<p>There would be no greater force existing in the world as an aid to -civilization and human fraternity than the Press, if its vast powers -were employed to the noblest purposes. It ought to resemble a mighty -ship, which, with brave, true men at the helm, moves ever on a straight -course, cleaving the waters of darkness and error, and making direct -for the highest shores of peace and promise. But it must be a ship -indeed,—grandly built, nobly manned, and steadily steered,—not a -crazy, water-logged vessel, creaking with the thud of every wave, or -bobbing backwards and forwards uncertainly in a gale. Its position -at the present day is, or appears to be, rather the latter than the -former. Unquestionably the people, taken in the mass, do not rely -upon it. They read the newspapers—but they almost immediately forget -everything in them except the headlines and one or two unpleasant -police cases. And why do they forget? Simply because first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> of all they -are not sufficiently interested; and, secondly, because they do not -believe the news they read. A working man told me the other day that he -had been saving sixpence a week on two halfpenny papers which he had -been accustomed to take in for the past year. “I found ’em out in ten -lies, all on top of one another, in two weeks,” he candidly explained; -“and so I thought I might as well keep my money for something more -useful. So I started putting the halfpence by for my little kiddie, and -I’m going to stick to it. There’s five shillings in the Savings Bank -already!”</p> - -<p>Glancing back to the early journalism of the past century, when Dickens -and Thackeray wrote for the newspapers (“there were giants in those -days”), one cannot help being struck by the great deterioration in the -whole “tone” of the press at the present time, as contrasted with that -which prevailed in the dawn of the Victorian era. There is dignity, -refinement, and power in the leading articles of the <i>Times</i> and other -journals then in vogue, such as must needs have compelled people not -only to read, but to think. The vulgar “personal” note, the flippant -sneer at this, that, or t’other personage,—the monkey-like mockery of -women,—the senseless gibes flung at poets and poetry,—the clownish -kick at sentiment,—were all apparently unknown.</p> - -<p>True it is that the <i>Times</i> still holds its own as a journal in -which one may look in vain for “sensationalism” but its position is -rather like that of a grim old lion surrounded by cubs of all sizes -and ages, that yap and snap at its whiskers and take liberties with -its tail. It can be said, however, that all the better, higher-class -periodicals<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> are in the same situation—the yapping and snapping goes -on around them precisely in the same way—“Circulation Five Times as -Large as that of any Penny Morning Journal,” etcetera, etcetera. And -the question of the circulation of any particular newspaper resolves -itself into two points,—first, the amount of money it puts into the -pockets of its proprietors or proprietor,—and secondly, the influence -it has, or is likely to have, on the manners and morals of the public. -The last is by far the most important matter, though the first is -naturally the leading motive of its publication. Herein we touch the -keynote of responsibility. How, and in what way are the majority of -people swayed or affected by the statements and opinions of some one -man or several men employed on the world’s press? On this point it -may perhaps be asked whether any newspaper is really justified in -setting before readers of all ages and temperaments, a daily fare of -suicides, murders, divorce-cases, sudden deaths, or abnormal “horrors” -of every kind to startle, depress or warp the mind away from a sane -and healthful outlook upon life and the things of life in general? A -very brilliant and able journalist tells me that “if we don’t put these -things in, we are so deadly dull!” One can but smile at this candid -statement of inefficiency. The idea that there can be any “lively” -reading in the sorrowful details of sickness, crime or mania, leaves -much room for doubt. And when it is remembered how powerfully the human -mind is affected by suggestion, it is surely worth while enquiring -as to whether the newspapers could not manage to offer their readers -noble and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> instructive subjects of thought, rather than morbid or -degrading ones. Fortunately for all classes, the bulk of what may be -called “magazine literature” makes distinctly for the instruction and -enlightenment of the public, and though a “gutter press” exists in -Great Britain, as in America, a great portion of the public are now -educated enough to recognize its type and to treat it with the contempt -it merits. I quote here part of a letter which recently appeared in the -<i>Westminster Gazette</i> signed “Observer,” and entitled:</p> - -<blockquote><p class="center">“<span class="smcap">A Press-governed Empire.</span></p> - -<p class="center">“To the Editor of the <i>Westminster Gazette</i>.</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—We have it on the highest authority that the -Government acts on the same information as is at the disposal -of ‘the man in the street’ (<i>vide</i> Mr. Balfour at Manchester). -The man in the street obviously must depend on the Press for his -information. How has the Press served him?</p> - -<p>“Let me take a recent illustration. A great experiment was -to be made by the Navy. A battleship with all its tremendous -armament was to pound a battleship. Naturally the Press was well -represented, and the public was eager for its report.</p> - -<p>“In due course a narrative appeared describing the terrible havoc -wrought. The greatest stress was laid upon the instant ignition -and complete destruction by fire of all the woodwork on the doomed -ship. Elaborate leading articles appeared enforcing the lesson -that wood was no longer a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> possible material for the accessory -furniture of a battleship.</p> - -<p>“A day or two after, a quiet answer in the House of Commons from -Mr. Goschen informed the limited public who read it, that no fire -whatever had occurred on the occasion so graphically described by -the host of Press correspondents.</p> - -<p>“The events dealt with on these occasions took place in our own -country, and under our own eyes, so to speak. If such untrue -reports are set forth with the verisimilitude of accurate and -detailed personal description of eye-witnesses, what are we to say -of the truth in the reports of events occurring at a distance?</p> - -<p>“Special knowledge, special experience long continued, speaking -under a sense of responsibility, are set at nought. The regular -channels of information are neglected, and the conduct of affairs -is based on newspaper reports. Any private business conducted -and managed on these lines would be immediately ruined. The -business of the Empire is more important, and the results of its -mismanagement are more serious. For how long will it be possible -to continue its management, trusting to the light thrown on events -by an irresponsible Press?”</p></blockquote> - -<p class="center">* * * * *</p> - -<p>The “irresponsibility” here complained of comes out perhaps more often -and most glaringly in those papers which profess to chronicle the -sayings and doings of kings and queens, prime ministers, and personages -more or less well known in the world of art, letters and society. In -nine cases out of ten,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> the journalist who reports these sayings and -doings has never set eyes on the people about whom he writes with such -a free and easy flippancy. Even if he has, his authority to make their -conversation public may be questioned. It is surely not too much to ask -of the editors of newspapers that they should, by applying directly to -the individuals concerned, ascertain whether such and such a statement -made to them is true before giving it currency. A couple of penny -stamps expended in private correspondence would settle the matter to -the satisfaction of both parties.</p> - -<p>“Personalities,” however, would seem to be greatly in vogue. Note the -following:</p> - -<p>“At seven o’clock the King left the hotel and walked to the spring to -drink more of the water. Altogether, His Majesty has to drink about a -quart of the water every morning, before breakfast.</p> - -<p>“Standing among the throng, in which every type and nationality of -humanity was represented, the King sipped his second pint glass of -water.</p> - -<p>“After drinking the quart of water, the regulations laid down for the -‘cure’ further require the King to walk for two hours before eating a -morsel of food.</p> - -<p>“This His Majesty performed by pacing up and down the promenade from -the Kruez spring at one end, to the Ferdinand spring at the other.</p> - -<p>“Notwithstanding all the appeals of the local authorities to the -visitors, King Edward was <a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" >[1]</a><i>much greatly</i> inconvenienced by the -snobbish curiosity of the crowd.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> - -<p>One may query whether “the snobbish curiosity of the crowd” or the -snobbish information as to how “the King sipped his second pint glass -of water” was the more reprehensible. Of course there are both men and -women who delight in the personalities of the Press, especially when -they concern themselves. Many ladies of rank and title are only too -happy to have their dresses described to the man in the street, and -their physical charms discussed by Tom, Dick and Harry. And when the -Press is amiable enough to oblige them in these little yearnings for -personal publicity, let us hope that the labourer, being worthy of his -hire, hath his reward.</p> - -<p>The following extract, taken from a daily journal boasting a large -circulation, can be called little less than a pandering to the lowest -tastes of the abandoned feminine snob, as well as a flagrant example -of the positively criminal recklessness with which irresponsible -journalists permit themselves to incite, by their flamboyant praise -of the <i>demi-mondaine</i>, the envy and cupidity of thoughtless girls -and women, who perhaps but for the perusal of such tawdry stuff, -would never have known of, or half-unconsciously coveted the -dress-and-diamond gew-gaws which are the common reward of female -degradation and dishonesty:</p> - -<blockquote><p>“Miss W., a young American actress, has burst upon London. She has -brought back from Paris to the Savoy Hotel, along with her golden -hair and lovely brown eyes, an enormous jewel-case, innumerable -dress-baskets—and a story. It concerns herself and how she -made a fortune on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Paris Bourse, and she told it to our -representative yesterday.</p> - -<p>“She is an American, and was eating candy when she met M. J—— -L——. ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘give up stick and buy stock.’ She ‘took -the tip,’ she says, and staked her fortune—every penny—on the -deal. A fortnight later she came back one night to her flat in the -Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, from the Olympia, where she plays a -leading part. A telegram from her bankers was waiting. It said: -‘You have been successful.’ ‘Next day,’ says Miss W., ‘I called on -those bankers and picked up the £20,000 I had made.’</p> - -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Inveterate Gambler.</span></p> - -<p>“‘Wonderful, wasn’t it?’ said Miss W., and our representative -agreed that it was. ‘Oh, but it was a mere nothing!’ she said. ‘I -have gambled since I was seven. Then I used to bet in pop-corn and -always won. At seventeen I was quite ‘a dab’ at spotting winners -on the Turf.</p> - -<p>“‘Monte Carlo? Oh, yes. I won a trifle there this year—£800 or -so. And Trouville! Why, you may not believe it, but I won £4,000 -there this year in a few weeks.</p> - -<p>“‘Of course, I don’t know the tricks of the Stock Exchange, though -I was once chased by a bull,’ observed Miss W., with a smile. -‘Still, I think I’ll stick to it.’</p> - -<p>“Opposite the Bourse is a shop where fashionable Parisians buy -their furs. She spent £1,600 in a sable coat and hat on the day -that the Bourse made her. Her other purchases include:— </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> - -<blockquote><p>Paris hats to the value of £200.<br />A robe of baby lamb, £150.<br /> -Fifteen Paquin gowns.<br />Two long fur coats.<br /> -Five short fur coats.<br />Three sets of furs.</p></blockquote> - -<p>“She also admits that she bought such trifles in the way of -jewellery as:—</p> - -<blockquote><p>A corsage with thirteen large diamonds.<br />Eighteen rows of pearls.<br /> -Eighteen diamond rings.<br />Two diamond butterflies.<br /> -One emerald ring.<br />Several pendants.</p></blockquote> - -<p>“Diamonds, says Miss W., are the joy of her life. Each night on -the stage of the Olympia she wears between £30,000 and £40,000 -worth of jewellery.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>The woman who confides her wardrobe list and the prices of her clothes -to a Fleet Street hack of the pen is far gone past recall, but her -manner of misdemeaning herself should not be proclaimed in the Press -under “headings” as if it were news of importance to the country; and -it would not be so proclaimed were the Press entirely, instead of only -partially, in the hands of educated men.</p> - -<p>In olden days it would seem that a great part of the responsibility -of the Press lay in its criticism of art and literature. That burden, -however, no longer lies upon its shoulders. Since the people began -to read for themselves, newspaper criticism, so far as books are -concerned, carries little weight. When some particular book secures -a great success, we read this kind of thing about it: “In argument,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -intrigue and style it captures the fancy of the masses without -attracting the slightest attention from the critical and discriminating -few whose approval alone gives any chance of permanence to work.” This -is, of course, very old hearing. “The critical and discriminating few” -in Italy long ago condemned Dante as a “vulgar” rhymer, who used the -“people’s vernacular.” Now the much-abused Florentine is the great -Italian classic. The same “critical and discriminating few” condemned -John Keats, who is now enrolled among the chiefest of English poets. -Onslaughts of the bitterest kind were hurled at the novels of Charles -Dickens by the “critical and discriminating few”—in the great writer’s -time—but he “captured the fancy of the masses” and lives in the hearts -and homes of thousands for whom the “critical and discriminating few” -might just as well never have existed. And when we look up the names -of the “critical and discriminating few” in our own day, we find, -strange to say, that they are all disappointed authors! All of them -have-written poems or novels, which are failures. So we must needs pity -their “criticism” and “discrimination” equally, knowing the secret -fount of gall from which these delicate emotions spring. At the same -time, the “responsibility” of the Press might still be appealed to in -literary, dramatic and artistic matters as, for example:</p> - -<p>Why allow an unsuccessful artist to criticize a successful picture?</p> - -<p>Why ask an unlucky playwright who cannot get even a farce accepted by -the managers, to criticize a brilliant play?</p> - -<p>Why depute a gentleman or lady who has <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>“essayed” a little unsuccessful -fiction to “review” a novel which has “captured the fancy of the -masses” and is selling well?</p> - -<p>These be weighty matters! Common human nature is common human nature -all the world over, and it is not in common human nature to give -praise to another for qualities we ourselves envy. Every one has -not the same fine endowment of generosity as Sir Walter Scott, who -wrote an anonymous review of Lord Byron’s poems, giving them the most -enthusiastic praise, and frankly stating that after the appearance of -so brilliant a luminary of genius, Walter Scott could no longer be -considered worthy of attention as a poet. What rhymer of to-day would -thus nobly condemn himself in order to give praise to a rival?</p> - -<p>May it not, with due respect, be suggested to those who have the -handling of such matters that neither the avowed friends nor the avowed -foes of authors be permitted to review their books?—the same rule -of criticism to apply equally to the works of musicians, painters, -sculptors and playwrights? Neither personal prejudice nor personal -favouritism should be allowed to interfere with the impression produced -on the mind by a work of art. Vulgar abuse and fervid eulogy are -alike out of place. In the productions of the human brain nothing -is wholly bad and nothing is wholly good. Perfection is impossible -of attainment on our present plane of existence. We do not find it -in Nature,—still less shall we find it in ourselves. The critic -can show good in everything if he himself is of a good mind. Or he -can show bad in everything as easily, should his digestion be out -of order. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>Unfortunately the “wear and tear of life”—to quote the -patent medicine advertisements, wreaks natural havoc on the physical -composition of the gentleman who is perhaps set down to review twenty -novels in one column of print for the trifling sum of a guinea. All -sorts of difficulties beset him. For instance, he may be employed on -a certain “literary” paper which, being the property of the relatives -of a novelist, exists chiefly to praise that novelist, even though it -be curiously called an “organ of English literature,”—and woe betide -the miserable man who dares to praise anyone else! Knowing much of the -ins and outs of the literary grind, I tender my salutations to all -reviewers of books, together with my respectful sympathy. I am truly -sorry for them, and I do not in the least wonder that they hate with -a deadly hatred every scribbling creature who writes a “long” novel. -Because the “pay” for reviewing such a book is never in proportion to -its length, as of course it ought to be. But anyway it doesn’t matter -how much or how little of it is criticized. The bulk of the public do -not read reviews. That is left to the “discriminating few.” And oh, -how that “discriminating few” would love to “capture the fancy of the -masses” if they could only manage to do it! Yet—“Never mind!” they -say, with the tragedian’s glare and scowl—“Our names will be inscribed -upon the scroll of fame when all ye are forgotten!” Dear things! Heaven -grant them this poor comfort in their graves!</p> - -<p>One cannot but regret that in these days of wonderful research, -discovery and invention, so little is done to popularize science in the -columns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> of the daily Press. The majority of the public are appallingly -ignorant of astronomy for instance. Would it not be as interesting to -instruct them in a simple and easy style as to the actual wonders of -the heavens about us, as to fill their minds with the details of a -murder? I hardly like to touch on the subject of geography, for out of -fifteen “educated” persons I asked the question of recently, not one -knew the actual situation on the map, of Tibet. Now it seems to me that -the Press could work wonders in the way of education,—much more than -the “Bill” will ever do. Books on science and learning are often sadly -dull and generally expensive, and the public cannot afford to buy them -largely, nor do they ask for them much at the libraries. If the daily -journals made it a rule to give bright picturesque articles on some -grand old truths or great new discoveries of science, such a course -of procedure would be far more productive of good than any amount of -“Short Sermons” such as we have lately heard discussed in various -quarters. For the Press is a greater educational force than the Pulpit. -In its hands it has the social moulding of a people, and the dignity -of a nation as represented to other nations. There could hardly be a -nobler task,—there can certainly never be a higher responsibility.</p> - -<h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1">[1]</a> Copied <i>verbatim</i> from the Press report.</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/dec.jpg" alt="Decoration" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<h2>“PAGAN LONDON”</h2> - -<p>London is “a pagan city.” Such was the uncompromising verdict lately -pronounced upon it by the Venerable Archdeacon Sinclair, of great -St. Paul’s. “A pagan city”—he said, or was reported to say—“with -churches glimmering here and there like fairy lamps twinkling in the -spaces of darkness upon a lawn. Like fairy lamps, they serve to show -the darkness rather than to illuminate it.” It was in a manner striking -and curious that the Archdeacon should have chosen such a simile as -“fairy lamps” for the Churches. It was an unconsciously happy hit—no -doubt absolutely unintentional. But it described the Churches of to-day -with marvellous exactitude. They are “fairy lamps”—no more!—only -fit for show—of no use in a storm—and quenched easily with a -strong puff of wind. Fairy lamps!—not strong or steady beacons—not -lighthouses in the rough sea of life, planted bravely on impregnable -rocks of faith to which the drowning sailor may cling for rescue and -haply find life again. Fairy lamps! Multiply them by scores, good -Archdeacon!—quadruple them in every corner of this “pagan” city of -ours, over which the heart of every earnest thinker must yearn with a -passion of love and pity, and they shall be no use whatever to light -the blackness of one soul’s midnight of despair! “Pagan London!” The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -roaring, rushing crowd—the broad deep river of suffering, working, -loving, struggling humanity, sweeping on, despite itself, to the -limitless sea of Death,—every unit in the mass craving for sympathy, -praying for guidance, longing for comfort, trying to discover ways out -of pain and grief, and hoping to find God somehow and somewhere—and -naught but “fairy lamps”—twinkling doubtfully, making the gloom more -visible, the uncertainty of the gathering shadows more confusing and -misleading!—“fairy lamps” of which the “Church of the Laodiceans,” so -strongly reproved by the “Spirit” in the Revelation of St. John the -Divine, must have been the originator and precursor—“I know thy works, -that thou art neither cold nor hot; I would thou wert cold or hot. So, -because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee -out of my mouth!”</p> - -<p>It is perhaps to be doubted whether any Churchman, no matter how -distinguished, learned, fashionable or popular, has the right to call -London or any city which is under the Christian dispensation “pagan.” -No one man can honestly say he has probed the heart of another,—and -if this be true, as it undoubtedly is, still less can one man assume -to judge the faith or the emotions of six million hearts—six million -striving, working and struggling souls. That even a handful of the -six million should still wander towards “fairy lamp” Churches, in -the hope to find warmth and luminance for their poor lives in such -flickering and easily quenched sparks of life, speaks volumes for the -touching faith, the craving hope, the desire of ultimate good, which -animates our “pagan” citizens. For, if after two thousand years of -Christianity, some of them are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> still passionately asking to be taught -and guided, still praying for strength and courage to fight against -many natural besetting sins, and still seeking after such pure ideals -of work and attainment as can alone make life worth living, it is not -they, surely, who merit the term “pagan.” They should not be so much -blamed as compassionated, if, when searching for God’s fair and open -sunshine, they only stumble at the “fairy lamps,” and, angered thereby, -turn altogether away into the outer darkness. Such a term as “pagan” -can be applied with far more justice to their teachers and preachers, -who, having all the means of help and consolation at their disposal, -fail to perform their high duties with either power, conviction or -effect. It is quite easy to say “Pagan London,” but what if one spoke -of “pagan clergy”? What of certain ecclesiastics who do not believe -one word of the creed they profess, and who daily play the part of -Judas Iscariot over again in taking money for a new betrayal of Christ? -What of the ordained ministers of Christianity who are un-Christian -in every word and act of their daily lives? What of the surpliced -hypocrites who preach to others what they never even try to practise? -What of certain vicious and worldly clerical <i>bon-vivants</i>, who may -constantly be met with in the houses of wealthy and titled persons, -“clothed in fine linen and faring sumptuously every day,” talking -unsavoury society scandal with as much easy glibness as any dissolute -“lay” decadent that ever cozened another man’s wife away from the path -of honour in the tricky disguise of a “Soul”? What of the spiteful, -small-minded, quarrelsome “local” parsons, who,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> instead of fostering -kindness, neighbourliness, goodwill and unity among their parishioners, -set them all by the ears, and play the petty tyrant with a domineering -obstinacy which is rather worse than pagan, being purely barbarous? -Many cases could easily be quoted where the childish, not to say -querulous, pettiness of the ruling vicar of a country parish has helped -to narrow, coarsen, and deteriorate the spirit of a whole community, -spreading mean jealousies, fostering cheap rivalries, and making every -soul in the place, from Sunday school children up to poor workhouse -octogenarians, irritable, discontented and unhappy. And if the word -“pagan” be used at all, should it not be particularly and specially -applied to those theatrical dignitaries of the Church whose following -of the simple and beautiful doctrine of Christ consists in sheer -disobedience to His commands—disobedience openly displayed in the -ornate ritual and “vain repetitions” which Christ expressly forbade. -“For all their works they do to be seen of men; they make broad their -phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments.” And while -“enlarging the borders of their garments” they institute “processional” -services and promenades round the “fairy lamp” churches, with various -altar-bobbings and other foolish ceremonies, caring nothing for the -<i>Spirit</i> of the faith, if only all forms and observances, imported -from Rome, or from still older “pagan” rites than the Roman, namely, -the Græco-Egyptian, may be in some way introduced into the simple and -unaffected form of prayer authorized by the Church of England. Disloyal -to both God and the King, the “pagan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> clergy” are doing more at this -present day to injure the cause of true religion among the masses than -is any lack of zeal or want of faith that may exist in the people -themselves. Who can blame sensible men and women for staying away from -church, when in nine cases out of ten they know that the officiating -minister is less Christian, less enlightened, less charitable and -kind-hearted than themselves? Canon Allen Edwards, in an admirable -letter addressed to the Press, put the case of “pagan London” very -clearly. He says: “We do not want new churches.” True. No more “fairy -lamps” are required for the general misleading of the straying sheep. -He adds: “We want new men.”</p> - -<p>This is the real need—men! Men of thought—men of heart,—men of -true conviction, ardent faith, passionate exaltation, and unceasing -devotion,—men who will not play about with “show” services, like -amateur actors in a charity performance,—but who will sincerely care -for and sympathize with their fellow-creatures, and will offer up the -prayer and praise of humanity to an all-wise Omnipotence with that deep -heartfelt fervour which is always expressed in the utmost simplicity -of form and language,—men who have the intelligence to understand -intelligent people, and who are as able to deal sympathetically -with the spiritual troubles and perplexities of an educated person -as with those of the ill-taught and frequently ill-fed rustic,—men -who, if they preach, can find something to say of the marvels of this -God-born creation of which we are a part—who will teach as well as -admonish,—and who will take reverent care not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> to set the Almighty -Creator within a small circle of their own special form of orthodoxy, -and condemn every creature that wanders outside that exclusive “fairy -lamp” enclosure. Canon Allen Edwards further remarked that “The reason -why the working classes do not go to church is the same reason why I -do not go to the Derby, not because I think it wrong, for I have no -opinion on the subject, but because I have no interest in the things -that go on there. And this is the reason, and no other, why many men -do not go to church. They are not interested in what is done there.... -A large number of those who are going into the ministry to-day are, -for one most essential part of their work, entirely without the first -elements of equipment. They cannot preach, and they are not helped to -try and learn, and yet preaching is that very part of their work for -which the people expect, and have a right to expect, equipment of the -highest order.”</p> - -<p>The Canon says: “they cannot preach.” That is true enough, but why? -I maintain that if they <i>felt</i> their mission, they could preach it. -If they loved their fellow-creatures a thousand times better than -themselves, as they should do, they would find much of greatness, -beauty and truth to say! If they honoured and worshipped their Divine -Master as they profess to honour and worship Him, there would be little -lack of spirit or of eloquence! People always know when a speaker or a -preacher is <i>in earnest</i>. He may have a faulty utterance—his elocution -may be far from perfect, but if the <i>heart</i> attunes the voice, the -voice carries. There are many hundreds of noble clergy—but they are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -fewer than the ignoble of the same calling. And many there are, not -only ignoble in themselves, but who attempt to pervert their very -churches to illegitimate uses. I quote the following from a letter -addressed to me on one occasion by a notorious “minister” of the Gospel.</p> - -<p>“As the vicar of one of the largest parishes in England, I am often -put to it how best to attract to the church the careless and the -indifferent. Though a very strong High Anglican, I am an intense -believer in the Priesthood of the Laity. It is the one weak spot in -the Church’s system that she does not, as do the non-conformists, make -sufficient use of and properly appreciate the services of her lay -members. It has occurred to me therefore this year that by way of a -start in this direction I should ask the help of certain leading people -in the Literary, Dramatic and Artistic worlds. My friend, Mrs. X., -has already made a beginning by reciting two poems in my Church, and -thereby moving intensely a congregation of upwards of 3,000 people.” -Now Mrs. X. was, and is, a well-known actress, and she recited the -two poems in question <i>from the chancel steps at the conclusion of -the Sunday evening service</i>. I am told, (though for this I will not -vouch,) that money was taken at the church doors, and seats reserved -and paid for, precisely as if the sacred building had been suddenly -metamorphosed into a theatre or music hall. It never seemed to occur to -the reverend gentleman who is the proprietor of this once “consecrated” -building, that if he could not attract to his church “the careless -and indifferent,” the fault probably lay in himself and his general -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>unfitness. As a “very strong High Anglican” he would naturally have -leanings towards the theatre and its lime-light effects, and <i>certes</i>, -the “Priesthood of the Laity,” whatever may be meant by that term, is -more to be believed in than the Priesthood of this particular ordained -“priest” who instituted and encouraged a kind of stage recital from the -steps of a sacred chancel, where the actor or actress concerned was -invited to declaim his or her lines, with back turned to the Altar, the -Communion-table serving as the “scenery.” Such men as these are the -real “pagans,” and they do infinite harm to the dignity and purity of -the Christian doctrine by their unworthy and debasing example. Churches -under their dominance are less than “fairy lamps” in their influence -for good,—they are the mere flare of stage footlights, showing up the -grease-paint and powder of the clerical mime.</p> - -<p>A deep religious sentiment lies at the hearts of the British people, -as indeed of all peoples in the world. No nation, small or great, -was ever entirely given over to atheism. If atheism and indifference -affect a few, or even a majority of persons, the fault is assuredly -with those who are elected to teach “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” -They are chosen and solemnly ordained to be the friends, lovers and -guides of humanity,—not to be selfish pedants, quarrelsome quidnuncs, -and bigoted despots, exposing themselves, as they often do, to the -righteous scorn, as well as to the careless contempt of the more honest -laity. When they show themselves unworthy, the people fall away. When -even one minister of religion appears as <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>co-respondent in a divorce -case, tens of thousands of men and women turn their backs on the -Church. When anything low, mean, despicable or treacherous is said or -done by a professing “servant of Christ,” the evil word or deed from -such a source makes Christianity a byword to many more than the merely -profane. When certain great dignitaries of the Church sit wine-bibbing -at “swagger” dinner-parties, relating questionable or “spicy” anecdotes -unfitting for the ears of decent women, they lose not only caste -themselves, but they lay all the brethren of their order open to -doubt. “Example is better than precept.” We have all written that in -our school copy-books,—and nothing has ever happened, or ever will -happen, that is likely to contradict the statement. If London is indeed -a “pagan” city, as Archdeacon Sinclair has solemnly declared from -under the shadowy luminance of his own big “fairy lamp,” St. Paul’s -Cathedral, then the clergy, and the clergy alone are responsible. On -their “ordained” heads be it! For “pagan” people are merely the natural -outcome of a “pagan” priesthood.</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/dec.jpg" alt="Decoration" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> - -<h2>A QUESTION OF FAITH</h2> - -<p class="bold">PROPOUNDED TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN</p> - -<p>Before fully entering on this paper, I should like those who may be -inclined to read it to understand very distinctly, once and for all, -that I am a Christian. I am sorry that the too-hasty misjudgment of -others compels me to assert the fact. The term “Atheist” has been -applied to me by several persons who should know better,—for it is an -absolutely false, and I may add, libellous accusation. That it has been -uttered unthinkingly and at random, by idle chatterers who have never -read a line I have written I can well believe,—nevertheless it is a -mischievous rumour, as senseless as wicked. Poor and inadequate as my -service is, and must ever be, still I am a follower of the Christian -Faith, as expounded in Christ’s own words to His disciples. I believe -that Christian Faith to be the grandest and purest in the world,—the -most hopeful, the most strengthening, the most soul-supporting and -ennobling religion ever taught to humanity. To me, in hours of the -bitterest trial, it has proved not “a reed shaken by the wind,”—but -a rock firmer than the foundations of the world, against which the -waves of tribulation break in vain and disperse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> to naught,—and when -brought face to face with imminent death as I have been, it has kept me -fearless and calm. I know—because I have experienced,—its priceless -worth, its truth, its grand uplifting power; and it is because this -simple Christian Faith is so dear to me, and so much a part of my -every-day life, that I venture to ask a few straight questions of -those who, calling themselves Christians, seem to have lost sight -altogether of their Master and His commands. I like people who are -consistent. Inconsistency of mind is like uncleanliness of body; it -breeds discomfort and disease. And in this wonderful age of ours, in -which there is so little real “greatness,”—when even the tried heroism -of our leading statesmen and generals is sullied by contemptible -jealousies and petty discussions of a quarrelsome nature,—when the -minds of men are bent chiefly on money-making and mechanical inventions -to save labour (labour being most unfortunately estimated as a curse -instead of the blessing it indubitably is), I find inconsistency the -chief ingredient of all modern thought. Things are jumbled up in a -heterogeneous mass, without order, distinction or merit. And the -principal subject on which men and women are most wildly, glaringly -inconsistent, is that which is supposed to be the guiding rule of -life—Religion. I should like to try and help to settle this vexed -question. I want to find out what the Christian Empire means by its -“faith.” I venture to lift up my voice as the voice of one alone in -the wilderness, and to send it with as clear a pitch and true a tone -as I can across the sea of discussion,—the stormy ocean of angry and -contradictory tongues,—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> I ask bluntly and straightly, “What is it -all about? <span class="smcap">Do you believe your religion, or do you not?</span>”</p> - -<p>It is an honest question, and demands an honest answer. Put it to -yourselves plainly. <span class="smcap">Do you believe with all your heart and soul in -the faith you profess to follow?</span></p> - -<p>Again—put it with equal plainness—<span class="smcap">Do you not believe one iota -of it all? And are you only following it as a matter of custom and -form?</span></p> - -<p>Let us, my reader or readers, be round and frank with each other. If -you are a Christian, your religion is to believe that Christ was a -human Incarnation or Manifestation of an Eternal God, born miraculously -of the Virgin Mary; that He was crucified in the flesh as a criminal, -died, was buried, rose again from the dead, and ascended to heaven as -God and Man in one, and there perpetually acts as Mediator between -mankind and Divine Justice. Remember, that if you believe this, you -believe in the <span class="smaller">PURELY SUPERNATURAL</span>. But let any one talk or -write of the purely supernatural as existent in any other form save -this one of the Christian Faith, and you will probably be the first -to scout the idea of the supernatural altogether. Why? Where is your -consistency? If you believe in one thing which is supernatural, why not -in others?</p> - -<p>Now let us consider the other side of the question. You who do -not believe, but still pretend to do so, for the sake of form and -conventional custom, do you realize what you are? You consider yourself -virtuous and respectable, no doubt; but facts are facts, and you, in -your pretence at faith, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> nothing but a Liar. The honest sunshiny -face of day looks on you, and knows you for a hypocrite—a miserable -unit who is trying in a vague, mad fashion to cheat the Eternal Forces. -Be ashamed of lying, man or woman, whichever you be! Stand out of the -press and say openly that you do not believe; so at least shall you be -respected. Do not show any religious leanings either to one side or -the other “for the sake of custom”—and then we shall see you as you -are, and refrain from branding you “liar.” I would say to all, clergy -and laity, who do not in their hearts believe in the Christian Faith, -“Go out of all churches; stand aside and let us see who is who. Let us -have space in which to count up those who are willing to sacrifice all -their earthly well-being for Christ’s sake (for it amounts to nothing -less than this), and those who prefer this world to the next.” I will -not presume to calculate as to which will form the larger majority. -I only say it is absurd to keep up churches, and an enormous staff -of clergy, archbishops, bishops, popes, cardinals, and the like, -for a faith in which we do not <span class="smaller">TRULY, ABSOLUTELY, AND ENTIRELY -BELIEVE</span>. It is a mere pageant of inflated Falsehood, and as such -must be loathsome in the sight of God,—this always with the modern -proviso, “if there indeed be a God.” Yet, apart from a God altogether, -it is degrading to ourselves to play the hypocrite with the serious -facts of life and death. Therefore, I ask you again—Do you believe, -or do you not believe? My object in proposing the question at all -is to endeavour to show the spiritual and symbolic basis upon which -the Christian Faith<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> rests, and the paramount necessity there is for -accepting it in its pristine purity and beauty, if we would be wise. -To grasp it thoroughly, we must view it, not as it now seems to look -to us through the darkening shadows of sectarianism, <span class="smaller">BUT AS IT WAS -ORIGINALLY FOUNDED</span>. The time has come upon us that is spoken of -in the New Testament, when “one shall be taken and the other left,” -and the sorting of the sheep from the goats has already commenced. It -can be said with truth that most of our Churches, as they now exist, -are diametrically opposed to the actual teachings of their Divine -Founder. It can be proved that in our daily lives we live exactly in -the manner which Christ Himself would have most sternly condemned. And -when all the proofs are put before you plainly, and without disguise or -hyperbole, in the simplest and straightest language possible, I shall -again ask you, “<span class="smcap">Do you believe, or do you not believe?</span>” If -you do believe, declare it openly and live accordingly; if you do not -believe, in God’s name leave off lying!</p> - -<p>The Symbolism of the Christian Faith has been, and is still, very much -lost sight of, owing to the manner in which the unimaginative and -unthinking majority of people will persist in looking at things from a -directly physical, materialistic and worldly point of view. But if we -take the life and character of Christ as a Symbolic representation of -that Perfect Manhood which alone can be pleasing to God,—which alone -can be worthy to call the Divine Source of Creation “Father!”—some of -our difficulties may possibly be removed. Christ’s Gospel was first -proclaimed in the East,—and the Eastern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> peoples were accustomed to -learn the great truths of religion by a “symbolic,” or allegorical -method of instruction. Christ Himself knew this,—for “He taught them -many things by parables.”</p> - -<p>We shall do well to keep this spirit of Eastern symbolism in mind when -considering the “miraculous” manner of Christ’s birth. Note the extreme -poverty, humility, well-nigh shame attending it! Joseph doubted Mary, -and was “minded to put her away privily.” Mary herself doubted the -Angelic Annunciation, and said, “How shall this be?”</p> - -<p>Thus, even with those most closely concerned, a cloud of complete -disbelief and distrust environed the very thought, suggestion, and -announcement of the God-in-Man.</p> - -<p>It should be remembered that the Evangelists, Mark and John, have no -account of a “miraculous” birth at all. John, supreme as a Symbolist, -the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” wrote, “The <span class="smaller">WORD</span> was made -flesh and dwelt among us.”</p> - -<p>Securing this symbolic statement for ourselves, we find that two of -the chief things to which we attach importance in this world—namely, -birth and position—are altogether set aside in this humanizing of the -<span class="smaller">WORD</span>, and are of no account whatever. And, that the helpless -Child lying in a manger on that first Christmas morning of the world, -was,—despite poverty and humility,—fore-destined to possess more -power than all the kings and emperors ever born in the purple.</p> - -<p>Thus, the first lessons we get from the birth of Christ are—Faith and -Humility—these are indeed the whole spirit of His Divine doctrine. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now,—How does this spirit pervade our social community to-day, after -nearly two thousand years of constant preaching and teaching?</p> - -<p>Look round on the proud array of the self-important, pugnacious, -quarrelsome, sectarian and intolerant so-called “servants of the Lord.” -The Pope of Rome, and his Cardinals and his Monsignori! The Archbishop -of Canterbury, and <i>his</i> Bishops, Deacons, Deans and Chapters and the -like! The million “sects”—and all the cumbrous paraphernalia of the -wealthy and worldly, “ordained” to preach the Gospel! Ask them for -“proofs” of faith! For signs of “humility”! For evidences of any kind -to show that they are in very soul and life and truth, the followers of -that Master who never knew luxury, and had not where to lay His head!</p> - -<p>And you, among the laity, how can you pray, or pretend to pray to a -poor and despised “Man of Sorrows,” in these days, when with every act -and word of your life you show your neighbours that you love Money -better than anything else in earth or in heaven!—when even you who are -millionaires only give and do just as much as will bring you notoriety, -or purchase you a “handle” to your names! Why do you bend your -hypocritical heads on Sundays to the Name of “Jesus,” who (so far as -visible worldly position admitted) was merely the son of a carpenter, -and followed the carpenter’s trade, while on week-days you make no -secret of your scorn of, or indifference to the “working-man,” and more -often than not spurn the beggar from your gates!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>Be consistent, friends!—be consistent! <span class="smcap">If you -believe in Christianity</span>, you must also believe in these three -things:—</p> - -<blockquote><p>1. The virtue of poverty.</p> - -<p>2. The dignity of labour.</p> - -<p>3. The excellence of simplicity.</p></blockquote> - -<p>Rank, wealth, and all kinds of ostentation should be to you -pitiable—not enviable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Is it so?</span> Do you prefer poverty, with a pure conscience, to -ill-gotten riches? Would you rather be a faithful servant of Christ -or a slave of Mammon? Give the answer to your own soul,—but give it -honestly—if you can!</p> - -<p>If you find, on close self-examination, that you love yourself, your -own importance, your position, your money, your household goods and -clothes, your place in what you call “society,” more than the steady -working for and following of Christ,—<span class="smcap">you are not a Christian</span>. -That being the case, be brave about it! Say what you are, and do not -pretend to be what you are not!</p> - -<p>It ought to be quite easy for you to come to a clear understanding -with yourselves. Take down the New Testament and read it. Read it as -closely and carefully as you read your cheap newspapers, and with -as much eagerness to find out “news.” For news there is in it, and -of grave import. Not news affecting the things of this world, which -pass like a breath of wind and are no more,—but news which treats of -Eternal Facts, outlasting the creation and re-creation of countless -worlds. Read this book for yourselves, I say, rather than take it in -portions on Sundays only from your clergy,—and devote your earnest -attention to the simple precepts uttered by Christ Himself. If you -are a Christian, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> believe Christ was an Incarnation of God,—then -does it not behove you to listen when God speaks? Or is it a matter -of indifference to you that the Maker and Upholder of millions of -universes should have condescended to come and teach you how to live? -If it is, then stand forth and let us see you! Do not attend places of -worship merely to be noticed by your neighbours. For,—apart from such -conduct being strictly forbidden by Christ,—you insult other persons -by your presence as a liar and hypocrite. This is what you may call a -“rude” statement;—plain-speaking and truth-telling are always called -“rude.” You will find the utmost plain-speaking in the Gospels upon -which you profess to pin your faith. If you have any “fancy Ritualism” -lurking about you, you will discover that “forms” are not tolerated by -the Saviour of mankind.</p> - -<p>“All their works they do for to be seen of men; they make broad their -phylacteries and enlarge the borders of their garments.”</p> - -<p>“Shows” of religion are severely censured and condemned by Him whose -commands we assume to try and obey—we can scarcely find even a peg -whereon to hang an excuse for our practice of praying in public, while -“vain repetitions” of prayer are expressly prohibited. I repeat—Read -the Four Gospels; they are very much mis-read in these days, and even -in the Churches are only gabbled. See if your private and personal -lives are in keeping with the commands there set down. If not, cease to -play Humbug with the Eternities;—they will avenge themselves upon your -hypocrisy in a way you dream not of! “Whosoever excuses himself accuses -himself.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p>The true Christian faith has no dogma,—no form,—no sect. It starts -with Christ as God-in-Man, in an all-embracing love for God and His -whole Creation, with an explicit and clear understanding (as symbolized -so emphatically in the Crucifixion and Resurrection), that each -individual Soul is an immortal germ of life, in process of eternal -development, to which each new “experience” of thought, whether on -this planet or others, adds larger powers, wider intelligence, and -intensified consciousness. There are no “isms” in this faith—no -bigotry, and no intolerance. It leaves no ground for discussion.</p> - -<p>“This is my commandment,—That ye love one another as I have loved you.”</p> - -<p>It is all there,—simple, straight and pure—no more, no less than this.</p> - -<p>“Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of trouble, attempts what -is above its strength, pleads no excuse of impossibility. It is, -therefore, able to undertake all things, and it completes many things -and warrants them to take effect where he who does not love would faint -and lie down. Love is watchful, and, sleeping, slumbereth not. Though -weary, it is not tired; though alarmed, it is not confounded, but, as a -lively flame and burning torch, it forces its way upwards, and securely -passes all.... Love is born of God and cannot rest but in God, above -all created things.”</p> - -<p>Is our Gospel of modern life and society to-day one of love or of hate? -Do we help each other more readily than we kick each other down? Do we -prefer to praise or to slander our neighbours? Is it not absolutely -true that “a cruel story runs on wheels, and every hand oils the wheels -as they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> run”? Can we leave anybody alone without covert or open -detraction from his or her merits? Even in the most ordinary, every-day -life do we not see people taking a malicious, insane delight in making -their next-door neighbours as uncomfortable as possible in every petty -way they can? These persons, by the way, are generally the class who go -to Church most regularly, and are constant Communicants. Do they not by -their profane attempt to assimilate the malignity of their dispositions -with the gospel of Christ, deserve to be considered as mere blasphemers -of the Faith?</p> - -<p>Yet, as a matter of fact, it is much easier to love than to hate. Love -is the natural and native air of the immortal soul. “While we fulfil -the law of love in all our thoughts and actions, we cannot fail to -grow.” Hatred, discontent, envy, and pessimism, cramp all the higher -faculties of the mind and very often actually breed disease in the -body. To love all creation is to draw the responsive health and life of -creation into one’s own immortal cognizance. “Love easily loosens all -our bonds. There is no discomfort that will not yield to its sovereign -power.” But it must not be a selfish love. It must be a Love which is -the keynote of the Christian Faith—“Love one another as I have loved -you.”</p> - -<p>It follows very plainly that if we truly loved one another there would -be no wars, no envyings, no racial hatreds, no over-reaching of our -brethren for either wealth, place or power. There would be no such -hells as the Lancashire factories, for example, where, as Allen Clarke -graphically tells us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" >[2]</a> “Amidst that sickening jerry-jumble of cheap -bricks and cheaper British industry, over a hundred thousand men, -women and children, toil and exist, sweating in the vast, hot, stuffy -mills and sweltering forges—going, when young, to the smut-surrounded -schools to improve their minds, and trying to commune with the living -God in the dreary, dead, besmirched churches and grimy puritanical -chapels; growing up stunted, breeding thoughtlessly, dying prematurely, -knowing not, nor dreaming, except for here and there a solitary one -cursed with keen sight and sensitive soul, of aught better and brighter -than this sickening, steaming sphere of slime and sorrow.” Contrast -this picture with a crowded “supper-night” at the Carlton or any other -fashionable Feeding-place of London, and then maintain, if you dare, -that the men and women who are responsible for two such differing sides -of life are “Christians”!</p> - -<p>England is, we are told, in danger of becoming “Romanized.” Priests -and nuns of various “orders” who have been thrust out of France and -Spain for intermeddling, are seeking refuge here, in company with the -organ-grinders and other folk who have been found unnecessary in their -own countries. From Paris official news was cabled on September 11, -1902, as follows:—</p> - -<blockquote><p class="center">“JESUIT EXODUS FROM FRANCE.</p> - -<p class="center">“<span class="smcap">Paris</span>, <i>Wednesday, September 11</i>.</p> - -<p>“It is announced officially that by the 1st of next month -not a single Jesuit will be left in France. Most of them -are emigrating to England, and will make Canterbury their -headquarters.—<span class="smcap">Dalziel.</span>”</p></blockquote> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - -<p>France will not have the Jesuits; may it be asked why <i>we</i> are to have -them? It is England’s proud privilege to be an international workhouse -for all the decrepit of the world, and for this cause a happy hunting -ground is open to Rome among these same decrepit. There is no creed in -the world which is better adapted for those who are morally weak, and -frightened of themselves. All the millionaires who have gotten their -goods by fraud, can, by leaving the greater part of these goods to -Rome, secure a reserved seat in Rome’s Heaven, with a special harp and -crown. All the women with “soul-affinities” other than lawful, can, -after a considerable wallow in social mire, enter the Church of Rome, -and, after confession, be “cleansed” sufficiently to begin again a new -life, approved of the saints. All the spiritualists and faith-healers -can find support for their theories with Rome,—and the Roman hell, -full of large snakes and much brimstone, is a satisfactory place -to consign one’s enemies to, when we have quite put aside Christ’s -command, “Love one another.” Altogether Romanism is calculated to -appeal to a very large majority of persons through the sensuous and -emotional beauty of its ritual;—it is a kind of heavenly narcotic -which persuades the believer to resign his own will into the hypnotic -management of the priests. The church is made gorgeous with soft lights -and colours,—glorious music resounds through the building, and the -mind drowses gently under the influence of the Latin chanting, which -we need not follow unless we like,—we are permitted to believe that -a large number of saints and angels are specially looking after us, -and that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> sweet Virgin Mary is ever ready with outstretched hands -to listen to all our little griefs and vexations. It is a beautiful -and fascinating Creed, hallowed by long antiquity, graced by deeds -of romance and chivalry, sanctified by the memories of great martyrs -and pure saints, and even in these degenerate days, glorified by -the noble-hearted men and women who follow it without bigotry or -intolerance, doing good everywhere, tending the sick, comforting the -sorrowful, and gathering up the little children into their protecting -arms, even as Jesus Himself gathered them. It would need an angel’s pen -dipped in fire, to record the true history of a faithful, self-denying -priest of the Roman Church, who gives up his own advantage for the sake -of serving others,—who walks fearlessly into squalid dens reeking -with fever, and sets the pure Host between the infected lips of the -dying,—who combats with the Demon of Drink, and drags up the almost -lost reprobate out of that horrible chasm of vice and destruction. -No one could ever give sufficient honour to such a man for all the -immense amount of good he does, unostentatiously and without hope of -reward. But many men like himself exist equally in the English Church -as the Roman,—in the Presbyterian Church, in the Greek Church, in the -Buddhist temples, among the Quakers, “Plymouth Brethren,” and other -sects—among the followers of Mahomet or of Confucius. For there are -good men and good women in every Church, faithful to the <span class="smcap">spirit -of Christ</span>, and, therefore, “Christians,” even if called Jews or -Hindoos.</p> - -<p>Personally, I have no more objection or dislike to Romanism than I -have to any other “ism” ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> formulated. From a student’s point of -view I admire the Roman Catholic priesthood, because they understand -their business, and thoroughly know the material with which they have -to deal. Wise as their Egyptian prototypes of old, they decline to -unveil “mysteries” to the uninitiated vulgar—therefore the laity are -not expected to read the Bible for themselves. Knowing the terrors -of a guilty conscience, they are able to intimidate the uneducated -ruffian of both sexes more successfully than all the majesty of the -law. Thoroughly aware of the popular delight in “shows,” they organize -public processions on feast days, just as the “Masters of the Stars” -used to do in Memphis, where, by the way (as those who take the -trouble to study ancient Egyptian records will discover), our latest -inventions, such as the electric light, the telephone, the phonograph, -and many other modern conveniences, were used by the priests for -“miraculous” effects. From the Egyptian priesthood we derive the -beginnings of scientific discovery;—to the early Roman Catholic -priesthood we owe the preservation of much history and learning. The -one is, intellectually speaking, a lineal descendant of the other, and -both deserve the utmost respect for their immense capacity as Rulers of -the Ignorant.</p> - -<p>The greater majority of persons have no force of will and no decided -opinions, but only an under-sense of coward fear or vexation at the -possible unsuccessful or damaging result of their own ill-doings. Hence -the power of the Roman Catholic dogma. It is not Christianity; it has -not the delicate subtlety of Greek mythology; it is simply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> pagan Rome -engrafted on the conversion and repentance of the Jew, Peter, who, in -the time of trial, “knew not the Man.” Curiously enough, it is just the -“Man,” the real typical Christ, the pure, strong God-in-humanity who -is still “not known” in the Roman Catholic ritual. There are prayers -to the “Sacred Heart” and to other physical attributes of Jesus,—just -as in old Rome there were prayers to the physical attributes of -the various deities, but of the perfect “Man,” as seen in Christ’s -dauntless love of truth and exposure of shams, His scourging of the -thieves out of the holy temple, His grand indifference to the world’s -malice and hatred, and His conquest over death and the grave,—of -these things we are given no clear or helpful image. Nevertheless, it -is the “Man” we most need,—the “Man” who came to us to teach us how -to live;—the brother, the friend, the close sympathizer,—the great -Creator of all life mingling Himself with His human creation in a -beautiful, tender, loving, wise and all-pitiful Spirit, wherein is no -hate, no revenge, and no intolerance! This is the Christ;—this is His -Christianity. Romanism, on the contrary, allows plenty of space for -those who want to hate as well as to love, and it is as helpful or as -useless as any of the thousand and one dogmas built up around Christ, -dogmas which include bad passions as well as divine aspirations. The -danger of such a creed gaining too much ground in England, the land -where our forefathers fought against it and trampled it out with -their own blood and tears, is not because it is a particular form of -religious Faith, but because it is an intolerant system of secret -Government. This has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> proved over and over again throughout -history. Its leaders have not shown themselves as gentle pagans by any -means, either now or in the past;—and intolerance in any form, from -any sect, is no part of the Constitution of a free country.</p> - -<p>Hence the real cause of the objection which has been entertained by -millions of persons in the Empire to the suggested alteration of -the King’s Coronation oath. The British King is a Constitutional -monarch,—and the words “Defender of the Faith” imply that he is -equally Defender of the Constitution. He agrees, when he is crowned -King of England, to uphold that Constitution,—he therefore tacitly -rejects all that might tend to undermine it,—all secret methods of -tampering with political, governmental or financial matters relating -to the State. The wording of the Coronation Oath is, and must be -distinctly offensive to thousands of excellent persons who are Roman -Catholics,—nevertheless, in the times when it was so worded, the -offending terms were made necessary by the conduct of the Roman -Catholics themselves. Those times, we are assured, are past. We have -made progress in education,—we are now broad-minded enough to be -fair to foes, as well as to friends. We should, therefore, in common -courtesy to a rival Church, consent to have this irritating formula -altered. Perhaps we should,—but is it too much to ask our Roman -Catholic brethren that they also should, if they wish for tolerance, -exhibit it on their own side? When Queen Victoria died, was it not -quite as offensive on the part of Pope Leo to publicly state that he -“could not be represented at the funeral of a Protestant Queen”—as it -may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> be for our King to publicly repudiate the service of the Mass? -Nothing could have been more calculated to gratuitously wound the -feelings of a great People than that most unnecessary announcement -made from an historical religious centre like the Vatican, at a time -of universal grief for the death of a good Monarch. If the Pope’s act -was according to the rule of his Church, the King’s oath is according -to the rule of the British Constitution. No one could accuse the Pope -of any particularly “Christian” feeling in declining to be represented -at the last obsequies of the best Queen that ever reigned—no one can -or would ever conscientiously accuse an English King of “religious -intolerance” when he takes the oath as it is set down for him. Both -acts are matters of policy. We have seen the foremost peer of England, -the Duke of Norfolk, forgetting himself so far on one occasion as -to drag his religious creed into the political arena, and publicly -expressing the hope on behalf of all English Catholics that the Pope -may soon regain temporal power (which means, to put it quite plainly, -that the British Constitution should be disintegrated and laid under -subjection to Rome): the natural consequence of such conduct is that -an enormous majority of perfectly sensible broad-minded people doubt -whether it is wise to leave an entirely loose rein on the neck of -the papal Pegasus. Tolerance and equity on the one side must be met -by tolerance and equity on the other, if a fair understanding is to -be arrived at. And when the professors of any religious Creed still -persecute heroism and intellect, or refuse reverence to the last -rite of a noble Queen, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> long reign was a blessing to the whole -world, one may be permitted to question their fitness for the task -of elevating and refining the minds and morals of those whom their -teachings help to influence. And having, as a man of intellectual -and keen perception, the full consciousness that such unuttered -“questioning” was burning the hearts and minds of thousands, the late -Cardinal Vaughan showed himself a master of the art of Roman Catholic -diplomacy in his speech at Newcastle-on-Tyne on September 9, 1902. -Speaking of the inrush of Roman Catholic priests into England, he -said:—</p> - -<p>“A statement from a London paper has been running through the -provincial Press to the effect that I have deliberately outraged -public feeling by inviting to England certain French religieux, some -of those <i>confrères</i> who have made themselves particularly obnoxious -by their constant attacks upon this country. The fact is that, upon -the passing of the iniquitous law against the religious congregations, -I gave a general invitation to any religieux who might wish, to come -to my diocese until they could return to France. Among those who -applied were three or four fathers, some of those <i>confrères</i> who do -not love England. My invitation being general, I was not, and am not -going to make distinctions. None will come who do not intend to obey -the laws and follow my direction. And if there be any who have not -been sufficiently enlightened to appreciate this country while living -in France, they are the very people who had best come and make our -acquaintance. This is the surest way to change their views. But while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -England boasts of her generous hospitality to every kind of refugee, I -shall certainly offer whatever hospitality I can to the men and women -who have suffered for Christ’s sake. <i>I am too broad an Englishman to -know any other policy.</i>”</p> - -<p>“Broad Englishman” as the Cardinal professed to be, he had no pity on -the aged Dr. St. George Mivart, the circumstances of whose treatment -are not yet forgotten.</p> - -<p>Speaking of the Coronation oath, the Cardinal said: “I entirely and -frankly accept the decision of the country that the King must be -a Protestant. They believe that this is in some way bound up with -the welfare of the Empire. <span class="smcap">Without going this length</span>, I -am convinced that in the present condition of the English people, -<span class="smaller">HAUNTED AS THEY ARE BY FEARS AND SUSPICIONS</span>, it is expedient -that the King should be of the religion of the overwhelming majority. -Besides, the King being, in virtue of Royal supremacy, head of -the State Church, it is impossible that he should be other than -a Protestant. Catholics have no difficulty in paying most loyal -allegiance to a Protestant Sovereign. In this they seem to be of more -liberal and confiding temper than those who would refuse allegiance to -a King unless he professed their creed. The Catholic has no difficulty, -because he gives his allegiance and his life, when needed, primarily to -the civil power ordained of God.”</p> - -<p>(The Cardinal did not pause here to try and explain why God has thus -“ordained” a Protestant sovereign instead of a Roman Catholic one! Yet -no doubt he will admit that God knows best.)</p> - -<p>“The Sovereign <span class="smaller">REPRESENTS THIS POWER</span>, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>whatever be his -religion. Was it not Catholic Belgium that placed the Protestant King -Leopold upon the Throne, and gave to him at least as hearty a devotion -as ever has been shown to his Catholic successor? Other Catholic -States are ruled by Protestant Sovereigns. And who can say that the -16,000,000 of German Catholics are a whit less loyal to their German -Protestant Emperor than the millions who are of the Protestant or of -no religion? There are people, I believe, pursued by the conviction -that we Catholics would do anything in the world to get a Catholic King -upon the Throne; that the Pope would give us leave to tell lies, commit -perjury, plot, scheme, and kill to any extent for such a purpose; that -there is no crime we should stick at if the certainty, or even the -probability of accomplishing such an end were in view. Now let me put -it to our Protestant friends in this way. If the King of England were -an absolute Monarch, the dictator of the laws to be enacted, and his -own executive, there might be something of vital importance to our -interests and to those of religion to excite in us an intense desire -to have a Catholic King. Though even then the end could never, even -remotely, justify the means suggested. But how do matters really stand? -We have a Constitutional Monarch who is subject to the laws, and in -practice bound to follow the advice of his Ministers. A Catholic King, -under present circumstances, would be a cause of weakness, of perpetual -difficulty, and of untold anxiety. We are far better off as we are. -Our dangers and grievances, our hopes and our happiness, <span class="smcap">lie in -the working of the Constitution</span>, not in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> favour or power of -any Sovereign. <span class="smcap">It is the Parliament, the House of Commons, that we -must convert</span>, or at least strive to retain within the influence of -Christianity. For the well-being of this country and the salvation of -its people depend, above all other human things, <span class="smcap">upon the view that -the House of Commons can be got to take of its duty</span>—to respect -and obey the law of Christ. What we want is to get the House of Commons -to maintain the Christian laws of marriage as the basis of society, -and to secure to parents and their children a true and proper liberty -in the matter of Christian education. And in this, remember well, -<span class="smcap">that the House of Commons depends not upon the King, whatever his -religion, but upon ourselves</span>. The people of this country must work -out their own salvation. And here let me point out to you, in passing, -that the next Session of Parliament may settle for ever the position of -Christianity in this country. Secondary and middle-class education will -be thrown into the melting-pot. In the process of the devolution of -educational authority upon county councils, Christianity will run the -risk of losing rights which it seems to have almost secured under the -working of the Education Department. The adoption of a single clause or -principle will have far-reaching and most vital results. There will be -another educational struggle. Struggles will be inevitable until the -Christian cause which is becoming more and more openly the cause of the -majority has permanently triumphed.”</p> - -<p>Here we have four distinct “moves” on the plan of campaign. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<blockquote><p>1. “It is the Parliament, the House of Commons, that we must -convert.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>This means, that wherever influence can be brought to bear on the -return of Roman Catholic members to the House, that influence will not -be lacking.</p> - -<blockquote><p>2. “The next Session of Parliament may settle for ever the -position of Christianity in this country.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>Not <span class="smcap">Christianity</span>, for that is above all “settling,”—save with -its Founder—but that the next or other Sessions may open the way to a -more complete Roman Catholic domination is what is here hoped for.</p> - -<blockquote><p>3. “The adoption of a <i>single clause</i> or principle will have -far-reaching and most vital results.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>Precisely;—so far-reaching and vital that England must be on her guard -against even a “single clause or principle” which endangers the liberty -of the subject.</p> - -<blockquote><p>4. “Struggles will be inevitable until the Christian cause which -is becoming more and more openly the cause of the majority has -permanently triumphed.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>For Cardinal Vaughan there was only one “Christian” cause—viz., the -Roman Catholic, and he who runs may read the meaning of the above -phrase without much difficulty.</p> - -<p>Concerning the King’s Declaration Oath, said the Cardinal:—</p> - -<p>“It is not the King who is responsible for the drafting or the -retention of this detestable Declaration. It is the Ministry, the -Legislature, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>Constitution that are responsible for its retention, -and for forcing its acceptance upon the Sovereign. The gravamen, -therefore, lies against the State, not against the person of the King.”</p> - -<p>Quite true; and it is therefore against the State that the Vatican -powers must, and possibly may, in time, be directed.</p> - -<p>“And,” went on the Cardinal, “do not devout clergymen swear every day -in good faith to teach the Thirty-nine Articles, and find every day -that conscience and good faith compel them to break their engagement by -submitting to the Catholic Church? When a man fully realizes that by a -promise or an oath he has pledged himself to something that is unjust, -immoral, untrue, the engagement ceases to bind.”</p> - -<p><i>Ergo</i>, the English Church, the particular “Faith” which our King -undertakes to <span class="smaller">DEFEND</span>, is “unjust, immoral and untrue.”</p> - -<p>And, “Could Englishmen see themselves as others see them, they would be -more chary than they are of provoking hatred by such wanton contempt -for the feelings of other nations.”</p> - -<p>Well, Englishmen have every chance of seeing themselves as others see -them, when they have to chronicle a “Christian” Cardinal’s indictment -accusing them of “wanton contempt for the feelings of other nations.” -To whom do other nations turn in want or distress but England? From -whom do the famine and fever-stricken in all corners of the world -obtain relief? England! Where is there any Roman Catholic country that -has poured out such limitless charity and pity to all in sorrow as -England? And why should the “conversion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> of England” be so valuable to -the Roman Church? Merely because of England’s incalculable wealth and -power!</p> - -<p>Again, concerning the Declaration Oath, the Cardinal continued:—“Now, -should it ever happen that the King became convinced, by God’s grace, -of the truth of the doctrines that he abjured, of what value would be -the Declaration? Absolutely none!”</p> - -<p>Of course not!—he would simply cease to be King, and would enjoy the -complete liberty of the subject.</p> - -<p>“By all means,” went on his Eminence, warming with his theme, “let the -majority, if it please, stand by the law, which exists apart from the -Declaration, declaring that to reign over England the Sovereign must be -a Protestant. Retain this law and enforce it; but respect our creed, at -least just so far as to ignore it, and to leave us alone. This, surely, -is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of modern toleration.”</p> - -<p>Then why did not the Cardinal and all his followers “respect the -creed” established in this country,—the religion of the State,—“just -so far as to ignore it,” and to leave those who honour it “alone”? -“This, surely, is not a heavy demand to make upon the spirit of -modern toleration.” It was not the Church of England which started -any discussion on the Coronation Oath at the time of King Edward the -Seventh’s crowning,—the quarrel emanated entirely from the Roman -Catholic side. And the Cardinal’s speech was intended to be more -aggressive than pacifying.</p> - -<p>“But if,” he continued, “after all, there must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> be a Declaration <i>as -a sop to certain fears and passions</i>, let there be one to the effect -that the King is a Protestant—and stop there. Should, however, a -denunciation of the Catholic religion be added to a profession of -Protestantism, the whole world will understand it; it will understand -it as a pitiable <i>confession of English fear and weakness</i>. And as to -ourselves; well, we shall take it as a complimentary acknowledgment -by our Protestant fellow-countrymen of the importance and power of -faith—that it can not only remove mountains, but is capable of <i>moving -even the fabric of the British Empire itself</i>. But I should like to -conclude in another strain, and add to these observations a resolution -to this effect:—</p> - -<p>“That the Sovereign of this Empire ought to be raised high above the -strife of all political and religious controversies, the more easily to -draw to himself and to retain the unabated loyalty of all creeds and -races within his Empire.”</p> - -<p>With the latter part of the Cardinal’s harangue every one of every -creed and class will agree, but “a pitiable confession of English fear -and weakness” is a phrase that should never have been uttered by an -Englishman, whether “broad” or narrow, cardinal or layman. “English -fear and weakness” has never yet been known in the world’s history. -And as for “moving the fabric of the British Empire,” that can only -be done through the possible incompetence or demoralization of its -own statesmen,—by shiftiness, treachery and corruption in State -affairs—and even at this utmost worst, though England might be bent, -she would never be broken. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> - -<p>All this, however, has nothing to do with the Christian faith as Christ -Himself expounded it in His own commands. Quarrels and dissensions are -as far from the teaching of the Divine Master as an earth’s dusthole -is from the centre of the sun. Differences of dogma are not approved -in His eyes. Whether candles shall, or shall not, be set on the altar, -whether incense shall, or shall not, be burnt, may be said to relegate -to the “cleansing of the outside of the cup and platter,” and are not -a vital part of His intention—for He has nothing but condemnation -for “forms” and “ceremonies.” There is something both strange and -unnatural in the provocative spirit which is at present being exercised -by professing rulers of the Church of England against one another; -and another matter too for deep regret is the attitude of favour -maintained by certain political ministers, towards the practice of an -almost theatrical display in the form of English Christian services. -The various appointments of High Churchmen to important bishoprics -shows the tendency towards extravagant ritualism; certainly the more -simple and unaffected men of pure taste and dignity in Church ritual -get little chance of encouragement; and that the path is being prepared -for a second Cromwell is only too evident. It is lamentable indeed that -any discussions should arise between the different sects as to “forms -and ceremonies,” and those who excite fanatical hatreds by their petty -quarrels over unimportant “shows” and observances, are criminally to -blame for any evils that are likely to ensue. What Christ commands is -“Love one another”;—what He desires is that all mankind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> should be -friends and brothers in His Name. And it is from this point of view -that I again ask the question of those who may have glanced through -this paper—<span class="smcap">Do you believe, or do you not believe?</span> Are you a -<span class="smcap">Christian</span>? Or a <span class="smaller">SECTARIAN?</span> The one is not the other.</p> - -<p>For my own part I would desire to see all the Sects cease their long -quarrel,—all “dogmas” dropped—and all creeds amalgamated into one -great loving family under the name of Christ. I should like to see -an end to all bigotry, whether of Protestantism against Romanism, or -Romanism against Protestantism,—a conclusion to all differences—and -one Universal Church of simple Love and Thanksgiving, and obedience -to Christ’s own commands. “Temporal power” should be held as the poor -thing which it is, compared to Spiritual power,—for Spiritual power, -according to the Founder of the Christian Faith, is the transcendent -force of Love—love to God and love to man,—“that perfect love which -casteth out fear,” and which, being “born of God, cannot rest but in -God above all created things.”</p> - -<p>Thus it follows—That if we hate or envy or slander any person, <span class="smcap">we -are not Christians</span>.</p> - -<p>If we prefer outward forms of religious ceremonial to the every-day -practice of a life lived as closely as possible in accordance with the -commands laid down for us in the Gospel, <span class="smcap">we are not Christians</span>.</p> - -<p>If we love ourselves more than our neighbours, <span class="smcap">we are not -Christians</span>.</p> - -<p>If we care for money, position, and the ostentation attending these -things, more than truth, simplicity and plain dealing, <span class="smcap">we are not -Christians</span>. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> - -<p>These ordinary tests of our daily conduct are quite enough to enable -us to decide whether we are or are not of the faith. If we are <i>not</i>, -we should cease to “sham” that we <i>are</i>. It will be far better for -all those with whom we are brought in contact. For, thank God, there -exist thousands of very real “Christians”—(“by their fruits ye shall -know them”), doing unostentatious good everywhere, rescuing the lost, -aiding the poor, comforting the sick, and helping the world to grow -happier and better. They may be <i>called</i> Jews, or Baptists, Papists, -or Buddhists,—but I hold them all as “Christians” if they perform -those good deeds and live those good lives which are acceptable to -Christ,—while many church-going hypocrites called “Christians” whose -social existence is a scandal, whose dissipations, gross immoralities -and pernicious example of living are open dangers to the whole -community, do not deserve even such a complimentary term as “pagan” -applied to them. For the pagans—aye, the earliest savages, believed -in Something higher than themselves,—but these sort of people believe -in nothing but the necessity of getting what they want at all costs, -and are mere human cancers of evil, breeding infection and pestilence. -And it is particularly incumbent on the clergy of all denominations -at the present juncture to sift Themselves as to their calling and -election while sifting others,—to ask Themselves whether they may -not be in a great measure to blame for much of the infamy which reeks -from our great cities—for much of the apathy and indifference to that -bitter poverty, that neglected suffering which often gives birth to -Anarchy,—for much of the open atheism<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> which shames the upper classes -of society. Let them live such lives as may liberate them from all -fear or hesitation in speaking out boldly to the souls they have in -charge—let them “preach the Gospel” as they were commanded, rather -than expound human dogmas. Sympathy, tenderness, patience, love for -all living creatures, rejection of everything that is mean and cruel, -false and cowardly,—a broad mind, open to all the beautiful and -gracious influences of Nature—a spirit uplifted in thanksgiving to -the loving God of all worlds, who is brought close to us and made the -friend of man in the Divine Personality of Christ,—this surely is -<span class="smcap">Christianity</span>,—a Faith which leaves no corner anywhere for the -admission of hate, dissension or despair. Such is the Faith the Master -taught, saying:</p> - -<p><a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" >[3]</a>“I have not spoken of myself, but of the Father which sent me; He -gave me a commandment what I should say, and what I should speak.</p> - -<p>“And I know that His commandment is life everlasting—whatsoever I -speak, therefore, even as the Father taught me, so I speak.”</p> - -<p>So He speaks—but do we listen? And if we listen,—and believe,—why do -we not obey?</p> - -<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2">[2]</a> “Effects of the Factory System.”—Allen Clarke.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3">[3]</a> John xii. 49.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - -<h2>UNCHRISTIAN CLERICS</h2> - -<p>It is generally supposed that an ordained minister of the Gospel is a -Christian. Whatever the faults, negligences and shortcomings of other -people in other conditions of life, it is tacitly expected that the -professing disciples of Christ, the priests, teachers and exponents of -holy and spiritual things, should be more or less holy and spiritual -in themselves. They are at any rate accredited with honest effort to -practise, as well as to preach, the divine ethics of their Divine -Master. Their position in the social community is one which, through -old-time tradition, historical sentiment, and inborn national piety, is -bound to command a certain respect from the laity. Any public disgrace -befalling a clergyman is always accompanied by a strong public sense of -shame, disappointment and regret. And when we meet (as most unhappily -we often do), with men in “holy orders” who,—instead of furnishing -the noble and pure examples of life and character which we have a -distinct right to look for in them,—degrade themselves and their high -profession by conduct unworthy of the lowest untutored barbarian, we -are moved by amazement as well as sorrow to think that such wolves in -sheep’s clothing should dare to masquerade as the sacredly ordained -helpers and instructors of the struggling human soul. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> - -<p>During the past few years there have been many examples of men -belonging to the hierarchy of the Church, who have wantonly and -knowingly outraged every canon of honour and virtue, and their sins -appear all the blacker because of the whiteness of the faith they -profess to serve. A criminal is twice a criminal when he adds hypocrisy -to his crime. The clergyman of a parish, who has all doors thrown open -to him,—who invites and receives the trust of his parishioners,—who -is set among them to guide, help and comfort them in the devious -and difficult ways of life, is a thousand times more to blame than -any other man in a less responsible position, when he knowingly and -deliberately consents to sin. Unless he is able to govern his own -passions, and eschew every base, mean and petty motive of action, -he is not fit to influence his fellow men, nor should he presume to -instruct them in matters which he makes it evident he does not himself -understand.</p> - -<p>Quite recently a case was chronicled in the daily press of a clergyman -who went to visit a dying woman at her own request. She wished to make -a last confession to him, and so unburden her soul of its secret misery -before she passed away, trusting in God’s mercy for pardon and peace. -The clergyman went accordingly, and heard what she had to say. When the -unhappy creature was dead, however, he refused her poor body the sacred -rites of burial! Now it surely may be asked what authority had he or -any man calling himself a Christian minister to refuse the rites of -burial even to the worst of sinners? Whatever the woman’s faults might -have been, vengeance wreaked on a corpse is both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> futile and barbarous. -There is nothing in Christ’s pure and noble teaching that can endorse -so unholy a spirit of intolerance,—one too, which is calculated to -give the bitterest pain to the living friends and relations of the so -coarsely-insulted dead, and to breed in them a relentless hostility -to the Church and its representatives. For the poorest erring human -creature that ever turned over the pages of the New Testament, knows -that such conduct is not Christ-like, inasmuch as Christ had nothing -but the tenderest pity, pardon and peace for the worst sinner at the -last moment. When death steps in to close all accounts, it behoves man -to be more than merciful to his brother man. “For if ye forgive not men -their trespasses neither will your Father forgive you your trespasses.”</p> - -<p>Still fresh in the minds of many must be the un-Christian conduct of -the late Cardinal Vaughan in denying the rites of Christian burial -to the venerable Dr. St. George Mivart. Dr. St. George Mivart was a -man of science whose theories did not agree with the tenets of the -Roman Catholic Church, and as he belonged ostensibly to that form of -faith, one may call him, if one so chooses, a bad Catholic. But when -it is remembered that within quite recent days, so-called “Christian” -priests in Servia have given their solemn benediction to the assassins -of the late King and Queen of that country, it is somewhat difficult -to understand or appreciate the kind of “religion” that blesses -murderers and regicides, yet refuses burial to a modern scientist who, -as far as his intellectual powers allowed him, was working for the -good and the wider instruction of the human race. At the time of the -“inhibition” and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>subsequent death of Dr. Mivart, I ventured to address -an “Open Letter” to Cardinal Vaughan on the subject. This Letter was -published in March 1900, and though no doubt the great “Prince of the -Church” never deigned to read it, a large majority of the public did, -and I have had much cause to rejoice that in the timorously silent -acquiescence of the Christian world in a deed which shames the very -name of Christ, I, at least, as one of the humblest among the followers -of the Christian faith, did have sufficient courage to speak out openly -against the wicked intolerance which made the Church itself seem mere -“sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal,” because lacking in that holy -charity “which suffereth long and is kind.” It was a barbarous act -to “inhibit” Dr. Mivart,—it was still more barbarous to refuse his -body the sacred burial-rites,—and though the great Cardinal has now -followed his victim to that world where all the secrets of the soul are -made manifest, his cruelty remains as a blot on his mortal career,—a -black smirch, ugly to look upon in the chronicle of his various virtues -and excellencies. No ordained minister of the Gospel has the right -to be intolerant. He has not the slightest excuse for arrogating to -himself any other code of ethics or conduct than that which is set out -plainly for him in the New Testament. Away from that he should not dare -to go, if he truly believes what he elects to preach,—and if he does -not believe, he should at once resign his office and not live on the -proceeds of what in his own private conscience he considers untrue.</p> - -<p>Most of us have met with many a mean little curate,—many a sly, -spiteful, scandal-mongering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> hypocritical parson,—in the daily -round of our common lives and duties. Most of us know the “salad” -cleric,—the gentleman who is a doubtful compound of oil and vinegar, -with a good deal of tough green vegetable matter growing where -the brain should be,—coarse weed of bigotry, prejudice, and rank -obstinacy. None of us are entirely ignorant of the sedately amorous -parson who is either looking out for a wife on his own account, or -attempting a “Christianly” conversion of the wife of somebody else. In -country towns we can scarcely fail to have come across the domineering -vicar,—the small and petty tyrant, who whips the souls committed to -his charge with rods steeped in his own particular pickle of arrogance, -austerity and coercion, playing the part of a little despot over -terrorized Sunday-school children, and laying down the law for his -parishioners by way of a “new dispensation” wherein the Gospel has no -part. One such petty martinet, well known in a certain rural parish, -plays regular “ogre” to his choir boys. It is always a case of “Fee, -fi, fa, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a chorister,” with him. Should -one of these unfortunate minstrels chance to sneeze during service, -this vicar straightway imposes a penny fine (sometimes more) on the -unlucky little wretch for yielding to an irresistible nasal impulse! -This kind of thing is, of course, ridiculous, and would merit nothing -but laughter, were it not for the dislike, distrust and contempt -engendered in the minds of the boys by the display of such a peevish -spirit of trumpery oppression on the part of a man who is placed in -the position he holds to be an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>example of kindness, good temper, -cheerfulness and amiability to all. True, the vicar in question is -what may be called “liverish,” and a small boy’s sneeze may seem, to -a mind perverted by bilious bodily secretions, like the collapse of a -universe. But there are various ways of conquering even one’s physical -ills,—at least to the extent of sparing poor children the infliction -of fines because they have noses which occasionally give them trouble.</p> - -<p>The begging cleric is of all sacerdotal figures the one most familiar -to the general community. One can seldom attend a church without -hearing the mendicant’s plea. If the collection taken were indeed for -the poor, and one felt that it was really and truly going to help -feed the starving and nourish the sick, how gladly most of us would -contribute, to the very best of our ability! But sad experience teaches -us that this is not so. There are “Funds” of other mettle than for -the sick and poor,—“restoration” funds especially. For many years a -famous church was in debt owing to “restorations,” and Sunday after -Sunday the vicar implored his congregation to lift “the burden” off its -time-honoured walls—in vain! At last one parishioner paid the amount -required in full. The vicar acknowledged the cheque,—put a recording -line in the “Parish Magazine,”—wrote a formal letter of thanks -regretting that the donor did not “show a good example by attending -public worship on Sundays,”—after which, <i>for more than a year he did -not speak to that parishioner again</i>! This is a fact. Neither he nor -his wife during that time ever showed the slightest common civility -to the one individual who, out of all the parish, had “lifted the -burden,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> concerning which so many pious exordiums had been preached. -<i>Till</i> the debt was paid, the vicar showed every friendliness to the -person in question—but afterwards—well!—one can only suppose it -was a case of “Othello’s occupation gone!” He could beg no more,—not -for that particular object. But I understand he has started fresh -“restorations” lately, so till he finds another trusting sheep in the -way of a too sympathetic parishioner, he will be quite happy.</p> - -<p>There are some clerics who, to their sacred duties add “a little -literary work.” They are not literary men,—indeed very frequently -they have no idea whatever of literature—they are what may be called -“literary jobbers.” Many clergymen have been, and are still, greatly -distinguished in the literary calling—but I am not alluding to -past or future Kingsleys. The men I mean are those who “do a bit of -writing”—and help in compiling books of reference to which few ever -refer. They are apt to be the most pertinacious beggars of their -class,—beggars, not for others’ needs, but for their own. They want -introductions to “useful” people—people of “influence”—and they ask -for letters to publishers, which they sometimes get. The publishers -are not grateful. They are over-run, they say, with clergymen who want -to write guide-books, books of travel, books of reference, books of -reminiscence. One of these “reverend” individuals, pleading stress of -poverty, was employed by a lady to do some copying work, for which, -in a well-meant wish to satisfy the immediate needs of his wife and -children, she paid him in advance the sum of Fifty Pounds. He sent her -a signed receipt for the money with the following gushing epistle: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> - -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear</span> ——,</p> - -<p>Could I write as you do, I might find words to express in part -some of my feelings of gratitude to you for all your kindness. -My little daughter owes to you untold happiness, and I believe -the goodness you ever show her will brighten her whole future -life. My dear wife you help to bear her many burdens of health -and loneliness as no other has ever attempted to do; and my -very mediocre self owes to you, a recognition, after many long -struggles, I will not say of merit, for no one knows better than -myself, my own shortcomings, but of ‘effort.’ In fact, you come to -us as Amenhotep sung of the sun:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Thou art very beautiful, brilliant and exalted above earth,</div> -<div>Thy beams encompass all lands, which thou hast made.</div> -<div>Thou art our sun.</div> -<div>Thou bindest us with thy love.</div> -<div>Thou art on high, but the day passes with thy going!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Even so, your kindly heart has shone upon our life, and made us -feel the springs of life within us. May the Great Master of all -things for ever bless you and yours!”</p></blockquote> - -<p>After this poetical effusion,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" >[4]</a> it is difficult to believe that -this same “Christian” minister, in order to gratify the private -jealousy, spite and malice of a few common persons whom he fancied -might be useful to him on account of their “local” influence, wrote -and published a scurrilous lampoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> on the very friend who had tried -to benefit him and his wife and family, and to whom he had expressed -himself in the above terms of unmeasured gratitude! But such, -nevertheless, was the case. Report says that he was handsomely paid -for his trouble, which may perhaps serve as his excuse,—for in many -cases, as we know, money outweighs principle, even with a disciple of -Christ. It did so in the case of Judas Iscariot, who, however, “went -out and hanged himself” promptly. Perhaps the “very mediocre” cleric -who owed to the woman he afterwards insulted, “a recognition after many -long struggles,” will do the same morally and socially in due course. -For it would be as great a wrong to the Church to call such a man a -“Christian” as it would be to canonize Judas. Even the untutored savage -will not injure one with whom he has broken bread. And to bite the hand -that has supplied a need, is scarcely the act of a mongrel cur,—let us -hope it is a sufficiently rare performance among mongrel clerics.</p> - -<p>Among other such “trifling” instances of the <i>un</i>-Christianity of -Christian ministers may be quoted a recent instance of a letter -addressed to a country newspaper by a clergyman who complained of -the small fees allowed him for the burial of paupers! “The game,” so -he expressed it, “was not worth the candle.” Christian charity was -no part of the business. Unless one can make a margin of profit, by -committing paupers to the hope of a joyful resurrection, why do it -at all? Such appeared to be the sum and substance of the reverend -gentleman’s argument. Another case in point is the following: A poor -man of seventy-five years old, getting the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> impression that Death was -too long in coming to fetch him, committed suicide by hanging himself -in a coal-shed. His widow, nearly as aged as he was, went tottering -feebly along to the clergyman of the parish, to relate the disaster and -seek for help. The first thing the good minister told her was, that -her husband, by committing suicide, had gone to hell. He then relaxed -his sternness somewhat, and kindly said that, considering her age, -infirmity and trouble, she “might call at the rectory every afternoon -for the tea-leaves.” This gracious invitation meant that the bereaved -old creature could have, for her consolation, the refuse of the -afternoon tea-pot after it had been well drained by this “Christian” -gentleman, his wife and family! Of other help she got none, and life -having become too hard for her to manage alone, despite the assistance -of the clergyman’s tea-leaves, she very soon, fortunately for herself, -died of grief and starvation. “He that giveth to the poor” in this -fashion, truly “lendeth to the Lord.”</p> - -<p>“Christianity” and “Christian” are beautiful words, emblematic of -beautiful thoughts and beautiful deeds. The men who profess to teach -the value of those thoughts, the influence of those deeds, should -be capable in themselves of practically illustrating what they mean -by their faith, in their own lives and actions. Inspired by the -purest Creed that was ever taught to mankind for its better hope and -enlightenment, they should express in their attitude to the world, a -confident and constant joy and belief in God’s goodness, and should -remember that if He, their divine Master “so loved us,” equally should -they, His ordained <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>ministers, love us, ay, even the worst of us, in -their turn. When, on the contrary, they do things for which the poorest -peasant or dockyard labourer would have the right, and the honest -right too, to despise them,—when they commit base actions for money -or advancement,—when they are harsh, unyielding, discourteous and -obstinate to the degree of even declining to aid a good cause or assist -in some benefit to the nation at large, merely because <i>they</i> have not -been consulted as to ways and methods, they do not deserve to be called -“Christian” at all. They are of that class, unhappily increasing in -number, who cry out: “Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name?” -to whom will be given the answer: “I never knew you; depart from Me, -ye that work iniquity!” Great and noble beyond all praise are true -“Christian” ministers,—and thousands of them are to be found in all -parts of the world, working silently and bravely for the rescue of -bodies as well as souls, giving practical as well as spiritual help and -sympathy to their fellow-men in trouble. But just because their labours -are so valuable, one resents all the more deeply the conduct of certain -members of the clergy who cast dishonour upon their whole calling,—and -just because the vocation of “priest” is so high, we intensely deplore -every action that tends to debase it. The un-Christian cleric belongs -to no spiritual form of faith whatsoever, and should not be allowed -to pretend that he does. He has but one religion,—Self. And from the -professor of Self, no man need ask either help or instruction.</p> - -<h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4">[4]</a> As some doubt has been expressed as to whether this -incident is a true one, the author wishes it to be known that she holds -the original letter written and signed by the reverend lampooner in question.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE SOCIAL BLIGHT</h2> - -<p>People who live in the country know what is meant by a “blight”—a -thing which is neither mist nor storm, neither cloud nor rain,—a -fever of the atmosphere, without any freshening or cleansing force -in its composition. Like a dull stretch of smoky fog, it hangs for -hours and often for days over the face of the landscape, poisoning -the wholesome fruit and grain in the orchards and fields, and leaving -trails of noxious insect pests behind it upon trees and flowers, -withering their foliage, and blackening all buds of promise with a -destroying canker to their very core. It is a suffocating, malodorous -miasma, clinging to the air, for which there is no remedy but a -strong, ay, even a tempestuous wind,—a wind which vigorously pierces -through the humid vapour and disperses it, tearing it to shreds, and -finally working up such a storm as shall drown it out of existence in -torrents of purifying rain. Then all nature is relieved,—the air is -cleared,—health and gladness re-assert their beneficent influences, -and the land lies open to renewed life and easy breathing once more.</p> - -<p>Even as “blight” is known in things natural, so is it known and easily -recognizable in things moral and social. It occurs periodically and -with more or less regularity, between certain changing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> and not always -progressive phases or epochs of human civilization. It visited Sodom -and Gomorrah, Tyre and Sidon; it loomed over Nineveh and Babylon,—and -in our day it is steadily spreading its pall over Europe and America. -Its gloom is heavy and pronounced,—it would seem to be darkening -into the true sable or death colour, for there is no light of faith -to illumine it. It is the outcome of the infected breath of peoples -who are deliberately setting God aside out of their countings, and -living for Self and the Hour alone. So-called “scientists,” scraping -at the crust-covering of the mine of knowledge, and learning of its -hidden treasure about as much as might be measured with a finger-nail, -have boldly asserted that there is no God, no Supreme Intelligent -Force back of the universe,—no future life,—nothing but death and -destruction for the aspiring, fighting, working human soul,—and that, -therefore, having been created out of caprice, a “sport” of chance -and the elements, and having nothing to exist for but to make chance -and the elements as agreeable as possible during his brief conscious -experience of them, the best thing for man to do is to “eat, drink, -and be merry all the days of his life,” though even this, according to -Solomon, is “also vanity.” For of eating comes indigestion, of drink -stupefaction, and of merriment satiety. Strange it is that if there -is no higher destiny for man than this world and its uses, he should -always be thrown back upon himself dissatisfied! Give him millions of -money, and when he has them, he cares little for what they can bring; -grant him unlimited power and a few years suffice to weary him of its -use.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> And stranger still it is to realize, that while those who do not -admit God’s existence, strut forth like bantams on a dunghill, crowing -their little opinions about the sun-rise, we are all held fast and -guided, not only in our physical, but in our moral lives by immutable -laws, invisible in their working, but sooner or later made openly -manifest. Crime meets with punishment as surely as night follows day. -If the retribution is not of man’s making,—if human law, often so -vicious and one-sided in itself, fails to give justice to the innocent, -then Something or Someone steps in to supply man’s lack of truth and -courage, and executes a judgment from which there is no appeal. What -it is or Who it is, we may not presume to declare,—the Romans called -it Jove or Jupiter;—we call it God, while denying, with precisely the -same easy flippancy as the Romans did just before their downfall, that -such a Force exists. It is convenient and satisfying to Mammonites -and sensualists generally, to believe in nothing but themselves, and -the present day. It would be very unpleasant for them to have to -contemplate with any certainty a future life where neither Money nor -Sex prevail. And because it would be unpleasant, they naturally do not -admit its possibility. Nevertheless, without belief in the Creator and -Ruler of all things,—without faith in the higher spiritual destiny of -man as an immortal and individual soul, capable of progressing ever -onwards to wider and grander spheres of action, life in this world -appears but a poor and farcical futility.</p> - -<p>Yet it is precisely the poor, farcical and futile view of life that -is taken by thousands of European<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> and American people in our present -period. Both press and pulpit reflect it; it is openly shown in the -decadence of the drama, of art, of literature, of politics, and of -social conduct. The “blight” is over all. The blight of atheism, -infidelity, callousness and indifference to honourable principle,—the -blight of moral cowardice, self-indulgence, vanity and want of heart. -Without mincing matters, it can be fairly stated that the aristocratic -Jezebel is the fashionable woman of the hour, while the men vie with -one another as to who shall best screen her from her amours with -themselves. And so far as the sterner sex are personally concerned, -the moneyed man is the one most sought after, most tolerated, most -appreciated and flattered in that swarm of drones called “society” -where each buzzing insect tries to sting the other, or crawl over it -in such wise as to be the first to steal whatever honey may be within -reach. And worst of all things is the selfish apathy which pervades -the majority of the well-to-do classes. As little sympathy is shown -among them for the living, as regret for the dead. The misfortunes of -friends are far more often made subject for ill-natured mockery than -for compassion,—the deaths of parents and relations are accepted -with a kind of dull pleasure, as making way for the inheritance of -money or estates. No real delight is shown in the arts which foster -peace, progress and wisdom; and equally little enthusiasm is stirred -for such considerations of diplomacy or government which help to -keep nations secure. A great man dies one day, and is forgotten the -next,—unless some clumsy and scandalous “biography” which rakes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> up -all his faults and mistakes in life, and publishes private letters of -the most intimate and sacred character, can be hawked to the front -by certain literary vultures who get their living by tearing out the -heart of a corpse. Say that a dire tragedy is enacted,—such as the -assassination of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, or the atrocious -murder of the late King and Queen of Servia,—or, what is to many minds -almost as bad,—the heartless and un-Christian conduct of Leopold, -King of the Belgians, to his unhappy daughter Stéphanie,—and though -each event may be as painful and terrible as any that ever occupied -the attention of the historian, they appear to excite no more human -emotion than a few cold expressions of civil surprise or indifference. -Feeling,—warm, honest, active, passionate feeling for any cause, is -more difficult to rouse than the Sloth from its slumbers. It would, -in truth, seem to be dead. The Church cannot move it. The Drama fails -to stir it. Patriotism,—National Honour,—have no power to lift it -from the quagmire of inertia. But let there be a sudden panic on the -Stock Exchange,—let the Paris Bourse be shaken,—let Wall Street be -ablaze with sinister rumour—and then hey and halloo for a reckless, -degrading, humiliating, miserable human stampede! Like infuriated -maniacs men shriek and stamp and wrestle;—with brains on fire, -they forget that they were born to be reasoning creatures capable -of self-control;—their much boasted-of “education” avails them -nothing,—and they offer to the gods a spectacle of frantic fear and -ignominy of which even an untaught savage might well be ashamed. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> - -<p>But perhaps the most noxious sign of the blight in the social -atmosphere is the openly increasing laxity of morals, and the frankly -disgraceful disregard of the marriage tie. Herein the British -aristocracy take the lead as the choicest examples of the age. Whatever -Europe or America may show in the way of godless and dissolute living, -we are unhappily forced to realize that there are men in Great Britain, -renowned for their historic names and exclusive positions, who are -content to stand by, the tame witnesses of their own marital dishonour, -accepting, with a cowardice too contemptible for horsewhipping, -other men’s children as their own, all the time knowing them to be -bastards. We have heard of a certain “nobleman” who,—to quote Holy -Writ,—“neighed after” another man’s wife to such an extent, that to -stop the noise, the obliging husband accepted £60,000, a trifling sum, -which was duly handed over. Whether the gentleman who neighed, or the -gentleman who paid, was the worst rascal, must be left to others to -determine. It was all hushed up quite nicely,—and both parties are -received “in the best society,” with even more attention than would be -shown to them if they were clean and honest, instead of being soiled -and disreputable. The portrait of the lady whose damaged virtue was -plastered up for £60,000 is often seen in pictorials, with appended -letterpress suitably describing her as a lily-white dove of sweet -purity and peace. One blames the sinners in this sordid comedy less -than the “fashionable” folk who tolerate and excuse their conduct. -Sinners there are, and sinners there always will be,—modern Davids -will always exist who seek<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> after Bathsheba, and do their level best to -get Uriah the Hittite comfortably out of the way,—but that they should -be encouraged in their sins and commended for them, is quite another -story. Apart from the pernicious influence they exercise on their own -particular “set,” the example of conduct they give to the nation at -large, not only arouses national contempt, but in some cases, where -certain notable politicians are concerned, may breed national disaster.</p> - -<p>With looseness of morals naturally comes looseness of conversation. -The conversation of many of the Upper Ten, in England at least, shows -a remarkable tendency towards repulsive subjects and objectionable -details. It is becoming quite a common thing to hear men and women -talking about their “Little Marys,” a phrase which, though invented -by Mr. J. M. Barrie, is not without considerable vulgarity and -offence. Before the brilliant Scottish novelist chose this title -for a play dealing with the digestive apparatus, it would have done -him no harm to pause and reflect that with a very large portion of -the Christian world, namely the Roman Catholic, the name of Mary is -held to be the most sacred of all names, second to none save that of -the Divine Founder of the Faith. I am told on good authority that -Americans,—especially the best of the American women,—have been -amazed and more or less scandalized at the idea that any portion of the -“cultured” British public should be found willing to attend a dramatic -representation dealing with matters pertaining to the human stomach. -I hope this report is true. My admiration for some American women is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>considerable, but it would go up several points higher if I were made -quite sure that their objection to this form of theatrical enterprise -was genuine, permanent, and unconquerable. I like Mr. Barrie very much, -and his Scottish stories delight me as they delight everybody, but I -want him to draw the line at the unbeautiful details of dyspepsia. -People are already too fond of talking about the various diseases -afflicting various parts of their bodies to need any spur in that way -from the romantic drama. One of the most notorious women of the day has -attained her doubtful celebrity partially by conversing about her own -inner mechanism and other people’s inner mechanisms in a style which -is not only “free,” but frankly disgusting. But,—“she is so amusing!” -say the Smart Set,—“One cannot repeat her stories, of course—they go -<i>rather</i> far!—but—but—you really ought to hear her tell them!” This -kind of thing is on a par with certain lewd fiction lately advertised -by certain enterprising publishers who announce—“You must have this -book! The booksellers will not show it on their bookstalls. They say -you ought NOT to read it. GET IT!”</p> - -<p>All homage to the booksellers who draw the line at printed garbage! One -must needs admire and respect them for refusing to take percentages -on the sale of corrupt matter. For business is always business,—and -when business men see that the tendency of a certain portion of the -reading public is towards prurient literature, they might, were they -less honourable and conscientious than they are, avail themselves -financially of this morbid and depraved taste. Especially as there are -a large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> number of self-called “stylists” who can always be relied -upon to praise the indecent in literature. They call it “strong,” or -“virile,” and reck nothing of the fact that the “strong” stench of it -may poison previously healthy minds, and corrupt otherwise innocent -souls. Prurient literature is always a never-failing accompaniment -of social “blight.” The fancy for it arises when wholesome literary -fare has become too simple for the diseased and capricious mental -appetite, and when the ideal conceptions of great imaginative minds, -such as the romances of Scott and Dickens, are voted “too long and -boresome!—there’s really no time to read such stories nowadays!” -No,—there is no time! There’s plenty of time to play Bridge though!</p> - -<p>Poetry—the greatest of the arts—is neglected at the present day, -because nobody will read it. Among the most highly “educated” persons, -many can be met with who prattle glibly about Shakespeare, but who -neither know the names of his plays nor have read a line of his work. -With the decline of Poesy comes as a matter of course the decline of -Sculpture, Painting, Architecture and Music. For Poesy is the parent -stem from which all these arts have sprung. The proofs of their decline -are visible enough amongst us to-day. Neither Great Britain, nor -Europe, nor America, can show a really great Poet. England’s last great -poet was Tennyson,—since his death we have had no other. Similarly -there is no great sculptor, no great painter, no great novelist, -no great architect, no great musician. I use the word “great,” of -course, in its largest sense, in the sense wherein we speak of Michael -Angelo, Raffaelle, or Beethoven. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> are plenty of clever “sketchy” -artists,—“impressionist” painters and fictionists, “rococo” sculptors, -and melodious drawing-room song-writers,—but we wait in vain for a new -“grand” opera, a nobly-inspired statue, a novel like “Guy Mannering,” -or a Cathedral, such as the devout old monks designed in the intervals -between prayer and praise. The beautiful and poetic ideals that made -such work possible are, if not quite dead, slowly dying, under the -influence of the “blight” which infects the social atmosphere,—the -blight which is thick with Self and Sensuality,—which looms between -man and his Maker, shutting out every hopeful glimpse of the sun of -faith, whose life-giving rays invigorate the soul. And those who see -it slowly darkening—those who have been and are students of history, -and are thereby able to recognize its appearance, its meaning, and its -mission, and who know the mischief wrought by the poison it exhales, -will pray for a Storm!</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>“Come but the direst storm and stress that Fate</div> -<div>Can bring upon us in its darkest hour,</div> -<div>Then will the realm awake, however late,</div> -<div>From the warm sloth in which we yawn and cower,</div> -<div>And pass our sordid lives in greed, or mate</div> -<div>With animal delights in luxury’s bower;</div> -<div>Then will the ancient virtues bloom anew,</div> -<div>And love of country quench the love of gold;</div> -<div>Then will the mocking spirits that imbue</div> -<div>Our daily converse fade like misty cold</div> -<div>When the clear sunshine permeates the blue;</div> -<div>Men will be manly as in days of old,</div> -<div>And scorn the base delights that sink them down</div> -<div>Into the languid waters where they drown!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE DEATH OF HOSPITALITY</h2> - -<p>There is an old song, a very old song, the refrain of which runs -thus: “’Twas merry in the hall, when the beards wagged all, We shall -never see the like again, again!—We shall never see the like again!” -Whether there was anything particularly hilarious in the wagging of -beards we may not feel able to determine, but there is unquestionably -a vague sense of something festive and social conveyed in the quaint -lines. We feel, without knowing why, that it was, it <i>must</i> have -been, “merry in the hall,” at the distant period alluded to,—while -at the present time we are daily and hourly made painfully aware -that whether it be in hall, drawing-room or extensive “reception -gallery,” the merriment formerly so well sung and spoken of exists -no longer. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls—no!—I mean the -Beards that once wagged in the Hall, wag no more. Honest laughter has -given place to the nanny-goat sniggering bleat now common to polite -society, and understood to be the elegantly trained and “cultured” -expression of mirth. The warm hand-shake has, in a very great measure, -degenerated into the timorous offer of two or three clammy fingers -extended dubiously, as with a fear of microbes. And Hospitality, -large-hearted, smiling, gracious Hospitality, is dead and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> wrapped in -its grave-clothes, waiting in stiff corpse-like state for its final -burial. Public dinners, public functions of all kinds,—in England at -any rate,—are merely so many funeral feasts in memory of the great -defunct virtue. Its spirit has fled,—and there is no calling it -back again. The art of entertaining is lost,—together with the art -of conversation. And when our so-called “friends” are “at home,” we -are often more anxious to find reasons for declining rather than for -accepting their invitations, simply because we know that there is no -real “at home” in it, but merely an “out-of-home” arrangement, in which -a mixed crowd of people are asked to stand and swelter in an uneasy -crush on staircases and in drawing-rooms, pretending to listen to music -which they can scarcely hear, and scrambling for tea which is generally -too badly made to drink. Indeed, it may be doubted whether, of all -the various ludicrous social observances in which our progressive -day takes part, there is anything quite so sublimely idiotic as a -smart “At Home” in London during the height of the season. Nothing -certainly presents men and women in such a singularly unintelligent -aspect. Their faces all wear more or less the same expression of forced -amiability,—the same civil grin distorts their poor mouths—the same -wondering and weary stare afflicts their tired straining eyeballs—and -the same automatic arm-movement and hand-jerk works every unit, as -each approaches the hostess in the conventional manner enjoined by the -usages of that “cultured” hypocrisy which covers a multitude of lies. -Sheep, herding in a field and cropping the herbage in the comfortable -unconsciousness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> that they are eating merely to be eaten, are often -stated to be the silliest of animals,—but whether they are sillier -than the human beings who consent to be squashed together in stuffy -rooms where they can scarcely move, under the sham impression that they -are “at home” with a friend, is a matter open to question. Of course -to some minds it may be, and no doubt is, extremely edifying to learn -by the society papers that Mrs. So-and-So, or Lord and Lady Thingummy -will “entertain a great deal this season.” People who have no idea -what this kind of “entertaining” means, may have glittering visions -thereof. They may picture to themselves scenes of brilliancy where “a -thousand hearts beat happily, and when, Music arose with its voluptuous -swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went -merry as a marriage-bell!” Only these things do not happen. Anything -but love is “looked” from soft eyes and hard eyes equally;—derision, -contempt, indifference, dejection, malice, and (so far as champagne, -ices and general messy feeding are concerned) greed, light up these -“windows of the soul” from time to time during the progress of such -festivities; but love, never! The women are far too busy finding -standing-room wherein to show themselves and their newest frocks off -to advantage, to waste any moment in mere sentiment, and it is a -Christianly beautiful sight to see how the dear things who wear the -dressmaker’s latest “creations” elbow and push and hustle and tread on -the toes of their sisters who are less highly favoured than themselves -in the matter of mere clothes. As for the men,—if they have, by -dint of hard exertion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> managed to get in at the “crush,” and near -enough to the hostess to bow and touch her hand, their sole attention -henceforward becomes concentrated on the business of getting out again -as rapidly as possible. For let it be said to the praise, honour and -glory of the sterner sex, that taken in the rough majority, they detest -the fashionable “At Home,” with vigorous and honest intensity,—and -unless they are of that degenerate class who like to be seen hanging -round some notoriously press-puffed “professional beauty,” or some -equally notoriously known leader of the Smart Set, they are seldom -seen at such gatherings. They feel themselves to be incongruous and -out of place,—and so they are. “At Homes” are curious sort of social -poultry-yards, where the hens have it all their own way, and do most -distinctly crow.</p> - -<p>But if “At Homes” are bad enough, the smart, the very smart -dinner-party is perhaps a little worse in its entire lack of the true -hospitality which, united to grace and tact and ready conversation, -should make every guest feel that his or her presence is valuable -and welcome. A small private dinner, at which the company are some -six or eight persons at most, is sometimes (though not by any means -always) quite a pleasant affair, but a “big” dinner in the “big” sense -of the word, is generally the most painful and dismal of functions, -except to those for whom silent gorging and after repletion are the -essence of all mental and physical joy. I remember—and of a truth -it would be impossible to forget—one of these dinners which took -place one season in a very “swagger” house—the house of a member of -that old British nobility<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> whose ancestors and titles always excite a -gentle flow of saliva in the mouths of snobs. The tables—there were -two,—were, to use the formal phrase, “laid for forty covers”—that -is to say that each table accommodated twenty guests. The loveliest -flowers, the most priceless silver, the daintiest glass, adorned -the festive boards,—everything that taste could suggest or wealth -supply, had its share in the general effect of design and colour,—the -host was at the head of one table,—the hostess at the other—and -between-whiles a fine string band discoursed the sweetest music. But -with it all there was no real hospitality. We might as well have been -seated at some extra-luxurious table-d’hôte in one of the “Kur” houses -of Austria or Germany, paying so much per day for our entertainment. -Any touch of warm and kindly feeling was altogether lacking; and to -make matters worse, a heavy demon brooded over the brave outward show -of the feast,—a demon with sodden grey wings that refused to rise -and soar,—the demon of a hopeless, irremediable Stupidity! Out and -alas!—here was the core of the mischief! For sad as it is to lack -Heart in the entertaining of our friends, it doubles the calamity to -lack Brain as well! Our host was stupid;—dull to a degree unimaginable -by those who do not know what some lordly British aristocrats can be at -their own tables,—our hostess, a beautiful woman, was equally stupid, -being entirely engrossed in herself and her own bodily charms, to the -utter oblivion of the ease and well-being of her guests. What a meal -it was! How interminably it dragged its slow length along! What small -hydraulic bursts of meaningless talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> spurted out between the entrées -and the game!—talk to be either checked by waiters proffering more -food, or drowned in the musical growling of the band! I believe one -man hazarded a joke,—but it was not heard,—and I know that a witty -old Irish peer told an anecdote which was promptly “quashed” by a dish -of asparagus being thrust before him, just as he was, in the richest -brogue, arriving at the “point.” But as nobody listened to him, it -did not matter. Nobody does listen to anybody or anything nowadays at -social functions. Everybody talks with insane, babbling eagerness, -apparently indifferent as to whether they are heard or not. Any amount -of people ask questions and never think of waiting for the answers. -Should any matters, small or great, require explanation, scarce a -soul has the patience or courtesy to attend to such explanation or to -follow it with any lucidity or comprehension. It is all hurry-skurry, -helter-skelter, and bad, shockingly bad, manners.</p> - -<p>I am given to understand that Americans, and Americans alone, retain -and cherish the old-fashioned grace of Hospitality, which is so rapidly -becoming extinct in Great Britain. I would fain believe this, but of -myself I do not know. I have had no experience of social America, -save such as has been freely and cordially taught me by Americans -in London. Some of these have indeed proved that they possess the -art of entertaining friends with real friendly delight in the grace -and charm and mutual help of social intercourse,—others again, by -an inordinate display of wealth, and a feverish yearning for the -Paragraph-Man (or Woman), have plainly shown that Hospitality is, -with them, a far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> less concern than Notoriety. However this may be, -no sane person will allow that it is “hospitality” to ask a number of -friends into your house and there keep them all standing because you -have managed that there shall be no room to sit down, while strong, -half-cold tea and stale confectionery are hastily dispensed among them. -It is not “hospitality” to ask people to dinner, and never speak a -word to them all the evening, because you, if a man, are engaged upon -your own little “business affair,” or, if a woman, are anxious not -to lose hold of your special male flatterer. If friends are invited, -they should surely be welcomed in the manner friendly, and made to -feel at home by the personal attention of both host and hostess. It -is not “hospitality” to turn them loose in bewildered droves through -grounds or gardens, to listen to a band which they have no doubt heard -many times before,—or to pack them all into a stuffy room to be -“entertained” by a professional musician whom they could hear to much -more comfortable and independent advantage by paying for stalls at the -legitimate concert hall. What do we really mean by Hospitality? Surely -we mean friendship, kindness, personal interest, and warm-hearted -openness of look and conduct,—and all of these are deplorably missing -from the “smart” functions of up-to-date society in London, whatever -the state of things may be concerning this antique virtue in New York -and Boston. It would appear that the chief ingredients of Hospitality -are manners,—for as Emerson says: “Manners are the <i>happy way</i> of -doing things.” This “happy way” is becoming very rare. Society, -particularly the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> “Upper Ten” society,—is becoming, quite noticeably, -very rude. Some of the so-called “smartest” women are notoriously -very vulgar. Honesty, simplicity, sympathy, and delicacy of feeling -are, or seem to be, as much out of date as the dainty poems of Robert -Herrick, and the love-sonnets of Sir Philip Sidney. Time goes on, say -the iconoclasts—and we must go with it—we must, if our hurrying -civilization requires it, pass friends by with a cool nod, mock at -the vices of the young, and sneer at the failings of the old;—we -are all too busy to be courteous,—too much in a hurry grabbing gold -to be kind, and much too occupied with ourselves to be thoughtful of -others. So let us bury Hospitality decently once and for all, and -talk no more about it! It was a grand old Virtue!—let us inter it -with honour,—and cease to hold our funeral feasts and entertainments -in its name. For, being dead, ’tis dead and done with,—and amid all -our twentieth-century shams, let us at least drop, for shame, our -base imitations of the great-souled splendid Grace that was meant to -link our lives more sweetly together, to engender love, and to make -home more home-like. For nowadays, few of us are simple and truthful -enough in our lines of conduct even to understand Hospitality in -its real meaning. “Between simple and noble persons,”—says a great -philosopher—“there is always a quick intelligence; they recognize -at sight; and meet on a better ground than the talents and skills -they may chance to possess, namely, on sincerity and uprightness.” -Sincerity and uprightness are the very fibre and life-blood of true -Hospitality. But the chief canon of modern society is hypocrisy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> to -begin with. Insincerity and lack of principle naturally follow, with -their usual accompaniment, moral cowardice,—and so men and women sneak -and crawl, and flatter base persons for what they can get, and reject -all chances of faithful friendship for mere ephemeral show. Under such -conditions as these, what can good old Hospitality do but draw its -last breath with a gentle sigh of expiring sorrow for the mistaken -world which prefers a lie to a truth, and still to this day crucifies -all its loving would-be redeemers on miserable Calvarys of desolation! -No happiness does it gain thereby, but only increased bitterness and -weariness,—and the fact that all our social customs have greatly -changed since the old time when households were wisely ruled and very -simply ordered, is no advantage to the general social community. We -may, if we choose,—(and we very often do so choose,) fly from one -desire to another and thence to satiety, and back again from satiety to -desire, but we shall never, in such pursuit, find the peace engendered -by simplicity of life, or the love and lasting joy inspired by that -honourable confidence in one another’s best and noblest attributes, -which should frankly and openly set the seal on friendship, and make -Hospitality a glad duty as well as a delight. “Old-fashioned” as it may -be, no new fashion can ever replace it.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE VULGARITY OF WEALTH</h2> - -<p>There are certain periods in the lives of nations when the balance of -things in general would seem to be faultily adjusted; when one side -of the scale almost breaks and falls to the ground through excess of -weight, and the other tips crazily upward, well-nigh to overturning, -through an equally undue excess of lightness. The inequality can be -traced with mathematical precision as occurring at regular intervals -throughout the world’s history. It is as though the clock of human -affairs had been set correctly for a certain limited time only, and -was then foredoomed to fall out of gear in such a manner as to need -cleansing and winding up afresh. A good many people, including some of -the wisest of our few wise men, have openly expressed the opinion that -we, of the proudest and greatest Empire at present under the sun, have -almost reached that particularly fatal figure on the Eternal Dial,</p> - -<p class="center">When all the wheels run down,</p> - -<p>and when the scales of Justice are becoming so dangerously worn -out and uneven, as to suggest an incapacity for holding social and -political weights and measures much longer. One of the symptoms of this -overstrained condition of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> our latter-day civilization is precisely -the same danger-signal which has in all ages accompanied national -disaster—a pernicious influence, like that of the planet “Algol,” -which, when in the ascendant, is said to betoken mischief and ruin -to all who see it rise on the horizon. Our evil Star, the evil star -of all Empires, has long ago soared above the eastern edge; fully -declared, it floods our heaven with such lurid brilliancy that we -can scarce perceive any other luminary. And its name is Mammon. The -present era in which we are permitted by Divine law to run through -our brief existence and make our mark or miss it, as we choose, is -principally distinguished by an insane worship of Wealth. Wealth in -excess—wealth in chunks—wealth in great awkward, unbecoming dabs, -is plastered, as it were, by the merest hap-hazard toss of fortune’s -dice, on the backs of uncultured and illiterate persons, who, bowed -down like asses beneath the golden burden, are asininely ignorant -of its highest uses. The making of millions would seem to be like a -malignant fever, which must run its course, ending in either the death -or the mental and physical wreck of the patient. He who has much money -seems always to find it insufficient, and straightway proceeds to make -more; while he who has not only much, but superabundance of the dross, -scatters it in every direction broadcast, wherever it can best serve -as an aid to his own self-advertisement, vanity and ostentation. Once -upon a time wealth could not purchase an entrance into society; now -it is the only pass-key. Men of high repute for learning, bravery, -and distinctive merit, are “shunted” as it were off the line to make -way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> for the motor-car traffic of plutocrats, who, by dint of “push,” -effrontery, and brazen impudence, manage to shout their income figures -persistently in the ears of those whose high privilege it is to -“give the lead” in social affairs. And to the shame of such exalted -individuals be it said, that they listen, with ears stretched wide, -to the yell of the huckster in stocks and shares; and setting aside -every thought for the future of Great Britain and the highest honour -of her sons and daughters, they sell their good word, their influence, -and their favour easily, for so much cash down. Men and women who have -the privilege of personally knowing, and frequently associating with -the Royal Family, are known to accept payment for bringing such and -such otherwise obscure persons under the immediate notice of the King; -and it is a most unfortunate and regrettable fact that throughout the -realm the word goes that no such obscure persons ever dine with their -Sovereign without having paid the “middle man” for the privilege. It -would be an easy matter for the present writer to name at least a -dozen well-known society women, assuming to be “loyal,” who make a -very good thing out of their “loyalty” by accepting huge payments in -exchange for their recommendation or introduction to Royal personages, -and who add considerably to their incomes by such means, bringing -the names of the King and Queen down to their own sordid level of -bargain and sale, with a reckless disregard of the damaging results -of such contemptible conduct. These are some of the very ladies who -are most frequently favoured by notice at Court, and who occupy the -position of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> being in the “swagger set.” Whereas, the men and women -who are faithful, who hold the honour of their King dearer than their -own lives, who refuse to truckle to the spirit of money-worship, and -who presume to denounce the sickening hypocrisy of modern society -life and its shameless prostitution of high ideals, are “hounded” by -those portions of the Press which are governed by Jew syndicates, and -slandered by every dirty cad that makes his cheap living by putting his -hand secretly in his neighbour’s pocket. Never, in all the ages of the -world, have truth-tellers been welcome; from Socrates to Christ the -same persecution has followed every human being who has had enough of -God in him or her to denounce shams; and the Christian religion itself -is founded on the crucifixion of Honesty by the priests of Hypocrisy. -It is a lesson that can hardly be too deeply dwelt upon at the present -notable time of day, which seems, for many students of national -affairs, the crucial point of a coming complete change in British -history.</p> - -<p>On every side, look where we may, we see an almost brutal dominance -of wealth. We see the Yankee Trade-octopus, stretching out greedy -tentacles in every direction, striving to grasp British shipping, -British industries, and British interests everywhere, in that devouring -and deadly grip, which, if permitted to hold, would mean mischief and -loss of prestige to our country, though, no doubt, it might create -rejoicing in America. For America is by no means so fond of us as -certain interested parties would have us suppose. She would dearly like -to “patronise” us, but she does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> not love us, though at present she -hides her hand. In a case of struggle, she would not support the “old -country” for mere sentimental love of it. She would naturally serve -only her own best interests. As a nation of bombast and swagger, she -is a kind of “raree-show” in the world’s progress; but her strength -is chiefly centred in dollars, and her influence on the social world -teaches that “dollars are the only wear.” English society has been -sadly vulgarized by this American taint. Nevertheless, it is, as it -has always been, a fatal mistake for any nation to rely on the extent -of its cash power alone. Without the real spirit which makes for -greatness—without truth, without honour, without sincere patriotism -and regard for the real well-being and honest government of the -majority—any national system, whether monarchical or republican, must -inevitably decay and perish from the face of the earth.</p> - -<p>Unblemished honesty is the best policy for statesmen; but that such has -been their rule of conduct in these latter years may perhaps be open to -question. The late Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, whose broad-minded, impartial -views of life, commend themselves forcibly to every literary student, -writing of Cecil Rhodes, whose funeral service was celebrated with such -almost royal pomp in St. Paul’s Cathedral, gives us a sketch which -should make the most casual “man in the street” pause and reflect as to -whether those solemn public rites and tributary honours from both the -King and Queen were not somewhat out of place on such an occasion.</p> - -<p>“What Mr. Rhodes did,” wrote Mr. Lecky, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> his strong, trenchant -way, “has been very clearly established. When holding the highly -confidential position of Prime Minister of the Cape Colony, and being -at the same time a Privy Councillor of the Queen, he engaged in a -conspiracy for the overthrow of the Government of a neighbouring -and friendly State. In order to carry out this design, he deceived -the High Commissioner whose Prime Minister he was. He deceived his -own colleagues in the Ministry. He collected under false pretences -a force which was intended to co-operate with an insurrection in -Johannesburg. Being a Director of the Chartered Company, he made use -of that position without the knowledge of his colleagues to further -the conspiracy. He took an active and secret part in smuggling great -quantities of arms into the Transvaal, which were intended to be used -in the rebellion; and at a time when his organs in the Press were -representing Johannesburg as seething with spontaneous indignation -against an oppressive Government, he, with another millionaire, was -secretly expending many thousands of pounds in that town in stimulating -and subsidizing the rising. He was also directly connected with the -shabbiest incident in the whole affair, the concoction of a letter -from the Johannesburg conspirators absurdly representing English women -and children at Johannesburg as in danger of being shot down by the -Boers, and urging the British to come at once and save them. It was a -letter drawn up with the sanction of Mr. Rhodes many weeks before the -raid, and before any disturbance had arisen; and kept in reserve to -be dated and used in the last moment for the purpose of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> inducing the -young soldiers in South Africa to join in the raid, and of subsequently -justifying their conduct before the War Office, and also for the -purpose of being published in the English Press at the same time as -the first news of the raid in order to work upon English opinion, and -persuade the English people that the raid, though technically wrong was -morally justifiable.... No reasonable judge can question that in these -transactions he was more blamable than those who were actually punished -by the law for taking part in the raid, far more blamable than those -young officers who were, in truth, the most severely punished and who -had been induced to take part in it under false representation of the -wishes of the Government at home, and a grossly false representation -of the state of things at Johannesburg. The failure of the raid, and -his undoubted complicity with its design, obliged Mr. Rhodes to resign -the post of Prime Minister, and his directorship of the Chartered -Company.... But what can be thought of the language of a Minister who -volunteered to assure the House of Commons that in all the transactions -I have described, Mr. Rhodes, though he had made ‘a gigantic mistake,’ -a mistake perhaps as great as a statesman could make, had done nothing -affecting his personal honour?”</p> - -<p>What has been thought, and what <i>is</i> thought of the matter, has been -largely suppressed by party politicians. The War Enquiry was conducted -with secrecy; Cabinet Ministers held their Councils, as it were, with -locked doors. An eager desire to conceal the real state of affairs in -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> country, and an unfortunate tendency to “hush up” such matters -as are the plain right of ratepayers to know, are the betraying signs -of many of our statesmen’s inward disquiet. Because, as many people -instinctively feel, the trail of finance is likely to be openly traced -to an unlawful, and in some cases, dishonourable extent, over much -recent political work. Honour, however, is due to those Ministers who -valiantly endeavour to screen greater names than their own behind their -skilful diplomacy; and one naturally admires the zeal and courage with -which they fight for this cause, even as M. Maurepas and M. Necker -fought a similar campaign long ago in the dark days of France, when, -as Carlyle writes, it was “clearly a difficult point for Government, -that of the dealing with the masses—if indeed it be not rather the -sole point and problem of Government, and all other points were -incidental crotchets, superficialities, and beatings of the wind! For -let Charter-chests, Use and Wont, Law, common and special, say what -they will, the masses count to so many millions of units, made to all -appearance by God, whose earth this is declared to be. Besides, the -people are not without ferocity; they have sinews and indignation.”</p> - -<p>At the immediate moment, the masses in our country are, rightly or -wrongly, vaguely conscious of two things which they view as forms -of injustice, namely, that they are asked to pay rates for an -educational system which a large bulk of them do not approve, and that -they are taxed for the expenses of a war, the conduct of which was -discussed “secretly,” as though its methods implied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> some dishonour -to those concerned in it. Moreover, they understand, with more or -less bewilderment, that though the King is now “Supreme Lord of the -Transvaal” there is no chance whatever for British subjects to make -fortune there, the trades being swamped by Germans, and the mines -controlled by Jews. Therefore, in their inability to follow the devious -paths of reasoning by which politicians explain away what they term -“ignorant and illiterate” conclusions, some of them begin to think that -the blood of their sons has been shed in hard battle, not so much for -the glory and good of the many, as for the private greed of the few. -They are no doubt wrong; but it will take something more than “secret” -enquiries to set them right.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the passing of the social pageant interests them more -deeply than is apparent on the frothy surface of social things. Their -contempt is aroused and kept sullenly alive by daily contemplation of -the flagrant assertion of money-dominance over every other good. They -hear of one Andrew Carnegie strewing Free Libraries over the surface -of the country, as if these institutions were so many lollipops thrown -out of a schoolboy’s satchel; they follow the accounts of his doings -with a mingling of wonder and derision, some of them up in Scotland -openly and forcibly regretting the mischief done to the famed “grit and -grip” of Scottish students, who are not now, as of yore, forced by hard -necessity to work for their University education themselves, and win -it, as it were, by the very skin of their teeth. Hard necessity is a -fine taskmaster, and turns out splendid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> scholars and useful men. But -when educational advantages are thrown headlong at aspiring students, -and Universities are opened freely, as though they were a species of -pauper-refuge, the delights of learning are apt to be proportionately -cheapened and lessened. Lads with real ability naturally and invariably -seek to do something that shall prove their own capabilities of pluck -and endurance; and a truly independent spirit not only chafes at, -but absolutely resents, assistance. Thus it has come to pass that -Mr. Carnegie’s Free Libraries are looked upon by hosts of people as -so many brick and mortar advertisements of his own great wealth and -unfailing liberality. A labour leader of some repute among his own -class, remarked the other day that “the Carnegie libraries were like -‘So-and-So’s Pills,’ posted up everywhere lest the inventor’s name -should be forgotten!” This was an unkind, and perhaps an ungrateful -observation, but we have to recollect that a People, taken <i>as</i> a -People, do not want to be grateful for anything. They want to work -for all they get, and to feel that they have honestly deserved their -earnings. It is only the drones of the hive that seek to be taken care -of. The able citizen strenuously objects to be helped in obtaining -sustenance for either his soul or his body. What is necessary for him, -that he will fight for, and, having won the battle, he enjoys the -victory. There is no pleasure in conquering an enemy, if a policeman -has helped you to knock him down.</p> - -<p>Thus, with many of the more independently-thinking class, millionaire -Carnegie’s money, pitched at the public, savours of “patronage” which -they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> resent, and ostentation which they curtly call “swagger.” Free -Libraries are by no means essential to perfect happiness, while they -may be called extremely detrimental to the prosperity of authors. A -popular author would have good reason to rejoice if his works were -excluded from Free Libraries, inasmuch as his sales would be twice, -perhaps three times as large. If a Free Library takes a dozen copies of -a book, that dozen copies has probably to serve for five or six hundred -people, who get it in turn individually. But if the book could not -possibly be obtained for gratuitous reading in this fashion, and could -only be secured by purchase, then it follows that five or six hundred -copies would be sold instead of twelve. This applies only to authors -whose works the public clamour for, and insist on reading; with the -more select “unpopular” geniuses the plan, of course, would not meet -with approval. In any case, a Free Library is neither to an author, -nor to the reading public, an unmitigated boon. One has to wait for -months sometimes for the book specially wanted; sometimes one’s name -is 1,000 on the list, though certain volumes known as “heavy stock” -can always be obtained immediately on application, but are seldom -applied for. Real book-lovers buy their books and keep them. Reading -which is merely haphazard and casual is purely pernicious, and does -far more harm than good. However, Carnegie, being the possessor of -millions, probably does not know what else to do with the cash except -in the way of Libraries. To burden a human biped with tons of gold, -and then set him adrift to get rid of it as best he may, is one of the -scurviest tricks of Fortune.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> Inasmuch as ostentation is the trade mark -of vulgarity, and a rich man cannot spend his money without at least -<i>appearing</i> ostentatious. The revival of the spinning and silk-weaving -industries in England would be a far nobler and more beneficial help -to the country and to the many thousands of people, than any number -of Free Libraries, yet no millionaire comes forward to offer the -needful assistance towards this deserving end. But perhaps a hundred -looms set going, with their workers all properly supported, would not -be so prominently noticed in the general landscape as a hundred Free -Libraries.</p> - -<p>Apart from the manner in which certain rich men spend their wealth, -there is something in an overplus of riches which is distinctly “out -of drawing,” and lop-sided. It is a false note in the musical scale. -Just as a woman, by wearing too great a number of jewels, vulgarizes -whatever personal beauty she may possess by the flagrant exhibition of -valuables and bad taste together, so does a man who has no other claim -upon society than that of mere wealth, appear as a kind of monstrosity -and deformity in the general equality and equilibrium of Nature. When -such a man’s career is daily seen to be nothing more than a constant -pursuit of his own selfish ends, regardless of truth, honour, high -principle, and consideration for his fellow-men, he becomes even more -than a man-camel with a golden hump—he is an offence and a danger to -the community. If, by mere dint of cash, he is allowed to force his -way everywhere—if no ruling sovereign on the face of the earth has -sufficient wisdom or strength of character to draw a line against the -entrance into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> society and politics of Money, for mere Money’s sake, -then the close of our circle of civilisation is nearly reached, and -the old story of Tyre and Sidon and Babylon will be re-told again for -us with the same fatal conclusion to which Volney, in his <i>Ruins of -Empires</i> impressively calls attention, in the following passage:</p> - -<p>“Cupidity, the daughter and companion of ignorance, has produced -all the mischiefs that have desolated the globe. Ignorance and the -love of accumulation, these are the two sources of all the plagues -that infest the life of man. They have inspired him with false ideas -of his happiness, and prompted him to misconstrue and infringe the -laws of nature, as they related to the connection between him and -exterior objects. Through them his conduct has been injurious to his -own existence, and he has thus violated the duty he owes to himself; -they have fortified his heart against compassion, and his mind against -the dictates of justice, and he has thus violated the duty he owes -to others. By ignorant and inordinate desire, man has armed himself -against man, family against family, tribe against tribe, and the earth -is converted into a bloody theatre of discord and robbery. They have -sown the seeds of secret war in the bosom of every state, divided -the citizens from each other, and the same society is constituted of -oppressors and oppressed, of masters and slaves. They have taught the -heads of nations, with audacious insolence, to turn the arms of society -against itself, and <i>to build upon mercenary avidity the fabric of -political despotism</i>, or they have a <i>more hypocritical and deep-laid -project, that imposes, as the dictate of heaven, lying</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> <i>sanctions and -a sacrilegious yoke, thus rendering avarice the source of credulity</i>. -In fine, they have corrupted every idea of good and evil, just and -unjust, virtue and vice; they have misled nations in a <i>labyrinth -of calamity and mistake</i>. Ignorance and the love of accumulation! -These are the malevolent beings that have laid waste the earth; these -are the decrees of fate that have overturned empires; these are the -celestial maledictions that have struck these walls, once so glorious, -and converted the splendour of populous cities into a sad spectacle of -ruins!”</p> - -<p>Laughable, yet grievous, is the childish conduct of many American -plutocrats who are never tired of announcing in the daily Press that -they are spending Three Thousand Pounds on roses for one afternoon’s -“At Home,” or Five Thousand Pounds on one single banquet! After this, -why should we call the Roman Heliogabalus a sensualist and voluptuary? -His orgies were less ostentatious than many social functions of to-day. -It is not, we believe, recorded that he paid any “fashion-papers” -(if there were any such in the Roman Empire) to describe his “Feasts -of Flowers,” though a lively American lady, giving out her “social -experiences” recently at an “Afternoon tea” said gaily: “I always send -an account of my dinners, my dresses, and the dresses of my friends to -‘<i>The ——</i>’ with a cheque. Otherwise, you know, I should never get -myself or my parties mentioned at all!” One is bound to entertain the -gravest doubts as to the truth of her assertion, knowing, of course, -that of all institutions in the world, the Press, in Great Britain at -any rate, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> the last to be swayed by financial considerations. One -has never heard (in England at least) of any “Company” paying several -thousand pounds to the Press for “floating it.” Though such things -may be done in America, they are never tolerated here. But, the Press -apart, which in its unblemished rectitude “shines like a good deed -in a naughty world,” most things in modern politics and society are -swayed by money considerations, and the sudden acquisition of wealth -does not in many cases improve the morality of the person so favoured, -or persuade him to discharge such debts as he may have incurred in -his days of limited means. On the contrary, he frequently ignores -these, and proceeds to incur fresh liabilities, as in the striking -case of a lady “leader of society” at the present day, who, having -owed large sums to certain harmless and confiding tradesmen for the -past seven or eight years, ignores these debts or “shunts them,” and -spends six thousand pounds recklessly on the adornment of rooms for -the entertainment of Royalty—which fact most notably proclaims her -vulgarity, singularly allied to her social distinction. The payment of -her debts first, and the entertainment of great personages afterwards, -would seem to be a nobler and more becoming thing.</p> - -<p>But show and vanity, pride and “bounce,” appear to have taken the -place of such old-fashioned virtues as simplicity, sincerity, and that -genuine hospitality which asserts nothing, but gives all.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Kind hearts are more than coronets,</div> -<div>And simple faith than Norman blood.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>In very few cases does immense wealth seem to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> go hand in hand with -refinement, reserve and dignity. Millionaires are for the most part -ill-mannered and illiterate, and singularly uninteresting in their -conversation. A certain millionaire, occupying during some seasons -one of the fine old Scottish Castles whose owners still take pride -in the fact that its walls once sheltered “bonnie Prince Charlie,” -can find little to do with himself and his “house-party,” but fill -the grand old drawing-room with tobacco-smoke and whisky-fumes of -an evening, and play “Bridge” for ruinous stakes on Sundays, of all -days in the week. During other hours and days he goes out shooting, -or drives a motor-car. Intellectually speaking, the man is less of a -real personality than the great Newfoundland dog he owns. But measured -by gold he is a person of enormous importance—a human El Dorado. And -his banking-account is the latchkey with which he opens the houses of -the great and intrudes his coarse presence through the doors of royal -palaces; whereas if by some capricious stroke of ill-luck he had not -a penny left in the world, those same doors would be shut in his face -with a bang.</p> - -<p>The vulgarity of wealth is daily and hourly so broadly evidenced -and apparent, that one can well credit a strange rumour prevalent -in certain highly exclusive circles, far removed from the “swagger -set,” to the effect that with one more turn of blind Fortune’s wheel, -the grace of Poverty will become a rare social distinction. The Poor -Gentleman, it is said, will be eagerly sought after, and to be seen in -his company will entitle one to respect. The man of money will stand -outside the ring of this Society,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> which is in process of formation for -the revival of the Art of Intelligent Conversation and the Cultivation -of Good Manners. Ladies who dress with a becoming simplicity, and who -are not liable to the accusation of walking about with clothes unpaid -for, will be eligible for membership,—and young men who are not -ashamed to emphatically decline playing cards on Sunday will be equally -welcome in the select coterie. Limited means will be considered more -of a recommendation than a drawback, and visits will be interchanged -among the members on the lines of unaffected hospitality, offered with -unassuming friendship and sincerity. Kindness towards each other, -punctilious attention to the smallest courtesies of life, unfailing -chivalry towards women, and honour to men, will be the prevailing -“rules” of the community, and every attempt at “show,” either in -manners or entertainment, will be rigorously forbidden and excluded. -The aim of the Society will be to prove the truth of the adage that -“Manners makyth the man,” as opposed to the modern reading, “Money -makyth the nobleman.” Bearing in mind that the greatest reformers and -teachers of the world were seldom destitute of the grace of Poverty, it -will be deemed good and necessary to make a stand for this ancient and -becoming Virtue, which as a learned writer says, “doth sit on a wise -man more becomingly than royal robes on a king.” Many who entertain -this view are prepared to unite their forces in making well-born and -well-bred Poverty the fashion. For in such a scheme, singular as it may -appear, there is just a faint chance of putting up a barrier against -boorish Plutocracy (which is a more <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>unwieldy and offensive power than -Democracy), and also of asserting the existence of grander national -qualities than greed, avarice, and self-indulgence, which humours, if -allowed to generate and grow in the minds of a people, result in the -ravaging sickness of such a pestilence of evil as cannot be easily -stayed or remedied. There has been enough, and too much of the Idolatry -of Money-bags—it is time the fever of such insanity should abate and -cool down. To conclude with another admirable quotation from Mr. Lecky: -“Of colossal fortunes only a very small fraction can be truly said to -minister to the personal enjoyment of the owner. The disproportion in -the world between pleasure and cost is indeed almost ludicrous. The two -or three shillings that gave us our first Shakespeare would go but a -small way towards providing one of the perhaps untasted dishes on the -dessert table. The choicest masterpieces of the human mind—the works -of human genius that through the long course of centuries have done -most to ennoble, console, brighten, and direct the lives of men, might -all be purchased—I do not say by the cost of a lady’s necklace, but -by that of one or two of the little stones of which it is composed. -Compare the relish with which the tired pedestrian eats his bread and -cheese with the appetites with which men sit down to some stately -banquet; compare the level of spirits at the village dance with that -of the great city ball whose lavish splendour fills the society papers -with admiration; compare the charms of conversation in the college -common room with the weary faces that may be often seen around the -millionaire’s dinner table, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> we may gain a good lesson of the -vanity of riches.”</p> - -<p>And, we may add, of the vulgarity of those who advertise their wealth -by ostentation, as well as of those who honour Purses more than -Principles.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> - -<h2>AMERICAN WOMEN IN ENGLAND</h2> - -<p>Why is the American woman so popular in English society? Why is her -charmingly assertive personality acknowledged everywhere? Why is she -received by knights and earls and belted churls with such overpowering -enthusiasm? Surely something subtle, elusive and mysterious, clings to -her particular form, nature and identity, for more often than not, the -stolid Britisher, while falling at her feet and metaphorically kissing -the hem of her garment, wonders vaguely how it is that she manages to -make such a fool of him! To which, she might reply, on demand, that if -he were not a fool already, she would not find her task so easy! For -the American woman is, above all women in the world, clever—or let -us say “brainy” to an almost incredible height of brainyness. She is -“all there.” She can take the measure of a man in about ten minutes -and classify him as though he were a botanical specimen. She realizes -all his limitations, his “notions,” and his special and particular -fads,—and she has the uncommonly good sense not to expect much of -him. She would not “take any” on the lily-maid of Astolat, the fair -Elaine, who spent her time in polishing the shield of Lancelot, and who -finally died of love for that most immoral<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> but fascinating Knight of -the Round Table. No, she wouldn’t polish a shield, you bet! She would -make Lancelot polish it himself for all he was worth, and polish her -own dear little boots and shoes for her into the bargain. That is one -of her secrets—masterfulness—or, let us say queenliness, which sounds -better. The Lord of creation can do nothing in the way of ordering -<i>her</i> about,—because, as the Lady of creation she expects to order -<i>him</i> about,—and she does! She expects to be worked for, worshipped -and generally attended to,—and she gets her way. What she wants, she -will have,—though “Companies” smash, and mighty Combines split into -infinite nothingness; and more than any tamer of wild forest animals -she makes all her male lions and bears dance at her bidding.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the chief note in the ever-ascending scale of her innumerable -attractions is her intense vitality. The mixed blood of many -intelligent races courses through her delicate veins and gives a -joyous lightness to the bounding of her heart and the swift grace of -her step. She is full of energy as well as charm. If she sets out to -enjoy herself, she enjoys herself thoroughly. She talks and laughs -freely. She is not a mere well-dressed automaton like the greater -majority of upper-class British dames. She is under the impression,—(a -perfectly correct one) that tongues were given to converse with, and -that lips, especially pretty ones, were made to smile with. She is, -taken at her best, eminently good-natured, and refreshingly free from -the jaundiced spite against others of her own sex which savours the -afternoon chitter-chatter of nine out of every ten English spinsters -and matrons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> taken together in conclave. She would, on the whole, -rather say a kind thing than a cruel one. Perhaps this is because she -is herself always so triumphant in her social career,—because she is -too certain of her own power to feel “the pangs of unrequited love,” -or to allow herself to be stung by the “green-eyed monster,” jealousy. -Her car is always rolling over roses,—there is always a British title -going a-begging,—always some decayed or degenerate or semi-drunken -peer, whose fortunes are on the verge of black ruin, ready and willing -to devour, monster-like, the holocaust of an American virgin, provided -bags of bullion are flung, with her, into his capacious maw. Though -certainly one should look upon the frequent marriages of American -heiresses with effete British nobles, as the carrying out of a wise -and timely dispensation of Providence. New blood—fresh sap, is sorely -needed to invigorate the grand old tree of the British aristocracy, -which has of late been looking sadly as though dry rot were setting -in,—as though the woodlice were at work in its heart, and the rats -burrowing at its root. But, by the importation of a few clean-minded, -sweet-souled American women, some of the most decayed places in the -venerable stem have been purged and purified,—the sap has risen, and -new boughs and buds of promise are sprouting. And it is full time that -this should be. For we have had to look with shame and regret upon -many of our English lords caught in gambling dens,—and shown up in -dishonourable bankruptcies;—some of them have disported themselves -upon the “variety” stage, clad in women’s petticoats and singing comic -songs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> for a fee,—others have “hired themselves out” as dummy figures -of attraction at evening parties, accepting five guineas for each -appearance,—and they have become painfully familiar objects in the -Divorce Court, where the stories of their most unsavoury manners and -customs, as detailed in the press, have offered singular instruction -and example to those “lower” classes whom they are supposed to more or -less influence. A return to the old motto of “noblesse oblige” would -not be objectionable; a re-adopting of old <i>un</i>-blemished scutcheons -of honour would be appreciated, even by the so-called “vulgar,”—and a -great noble who is at the same time a great man, would in this present -day, be accepted by all classes with an universal feeling of grateful -surprise and admiration.</p> - -<p>But, <i>revenons à nos moutons</i>,—the social popularity of the American -woman in English society. That she is popular is an admitted and -incontestable fact. She competes with the native British female -product at every turn,—in her dress, in her ways, in her irresistible -vivacity, and above all in her intelligence. When she knows things, she -lets people know that she knows things. She cannot sit with her hands -before her in stodgy silence, allowing other folks to talk. That is an -English habit. No doubt the English girl or woman knows quite as much -as her American sister, but she has an unhappy knack of assuming to -be a fool. She says little, and that little not to much purpose,—she -looks less,—it is dimly understood that she plays hockey, tennis and -golf, and has large feet. She is an athletic Enigma. I write this, of -course, solely concerning those British women, young,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> middle-aged -and elderly, who make “sport” and out-door exercise the chief aim and -end of existence. But I yield to none in my love and admiration for -the real, genuine, <i>un</i>modernised English maiden, at her gentlest and -best,—she is the rosebud of the world. And I tender devout reverence -and affection to the <i>un</i>-fashionable, single-hearted, dear, loving -and ever-beloved English wife and mother—she is the rose in all its -full-blown glory. Unfortunately, however, these English rosebuds -and roses are seldom met with in the sweltering, scrambling crowd -called “society.” They dwell in quiet country-places where the lovely -influences of their modest and retiring lives are felt but never seen. -Society likes to be seen rather than felt. There is all the difference. -And in that particular section of it whose aim is seeing to be seen, -and seen to be seeing, the American woman is as an oasis in the desert. -She also wants to be seen,—but she expresses that desire so naïvely, -and often so bewitchingly, that it is a satisfaction to every one to -grant her request. She also would see,—and her eyes are so bright and -roving and restless, that Mother Britannia is perforce compelled to -smile indulgently, and to open all her social picture-books for the -pleasure of the spoilt child of eternal Mayflower pedigree. It has to -be said and frankly admitted too, that much of the popularity attending -an American girl when she first comes over to London for a “season” is -due to an idea which the stolid Britisher gets into his head, namely, -that she has, she <i>must</i> have, Money. The American girl and Money are -twins, according to the stolid Britisher’s belief. And when the stolid -Britisher fixes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>something—anything—into the passively-resisting -matter composing his brain, it would take Leviathan, with, not one, -but several hooks, to <i>un</i>fix it. And thus it often happens that the -sight of a charmingly dressed, graceful, generally “smart” American -girl attracts the stolid Britisher in the first place because he says -to himself—“Money!” He knows all the incomes of all the best families -in his own country,—and none of them are big enough to suit him. But -the American girl arrives as more or less of a financial mystery. She -may have thousands,—she may have millions,—he can never be quite -sure. And he does all he can to ingratiate himself with her and give -her a good time “on spec.” to begin with, while he makes cautious and -diplomatic enquiries. If his hopes rest on a firm basis, his attentions -are redoubled—if, on the contrary, they are built on shifting sand, he -gradually diminishes his ardour and like a “wilting flower” fades and -“fizzles” away.</p> - -<p>I am here reminded of a certain Earl, renowned in the political and -social world, who, when he was a young man, went over on a visit to -America and there fell, or feigned to fall, deeply in love with a -very sweet, very beautiful, very gentle and lovable American girl. -In a brief while he became engaged to her. The engagement was made -public—the wedding day was almost fixed. The girl’s father was -extremely wealthy, and she was the only child and sole heiress. But an -unfortunate failure,—a gigantic collapse in the money market, made -havoc of the father’s fortunes, and as soon as his ruin was declared -beyond a doubt, the noble Earl, without much hesitation or ado, broke -off his engagement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> and rapidly decamped from the States back to -his own country, where, as all the world knows, he did very well for -himself. Strange to say, however, the girl whom he had thus brutally -forsaken for no fault of her own, had loved him with all the romantic -and trusting tenderness of first love, and the heartless blow inflicted -upon her by his noble and honourable lordship was one from which she -never recovered. The Noble and Honourable has, I repeat, done very -well for himself, though it is rumoured that he sleeps badly, and that -he has occasionally been heard muttering after the fashion of Hamlet, -Prince of Denmark,—“Oh God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count -myself a king of infinite space were it not that I have bad dreams!”</p> - -<p>Marriage, however, is by no means the only, or even the chief -resource in life of the American woman. She evidently looks with a -certain favour on the holy estate of matrimony and is quite willing -to become an excellent wife and mother if the lines of her destiny -run that way, but if they should happen to branch out in another -direction, she wastes no time in useless pining. She is too vital, -too capable, too intelligent and energetic altogether to play the -<i>rôle</i> of an interesting martyr to male neglect. She will teach, or -she will lecture,—she will sing, or she will act,—she will take her -degrees in medicine and surgery,—she will practise for the Bar,—she -will write books, and the days are fast approaching when she will -become a high priestess of the Church, and will preach to the lost -sheep of Israel as well as to the equally lost ones of New York or -Chicago;—she will be a “beauty doctor,” a “physical culture” woman, -a “medium,” a stock-broker, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> palmist, a florist, a house-decorator, -a dealer in lace and old curiosities,—ay! she will even become a -tram-car conductor if necessity compels and the situation is open to -her,—and she will manage a cattle ranch as easily as a household, -should opportunity arise. Marriage is but one link in the long chain -of her general efficiency, and like Cleopatra, “age cannot wither her, -nor custom stale Her infinite variety.” A curious fact and one worth -noting is, that we seldom or never hear Americans use the ill-bred -expression “old maid” when alluding to such of their feminine relatives -or friends who may happen to remain unmarried. They know too well -that these confirmed and settled spinsters are as capable and as well -to the front in the rush of life as the wedded wives, if not more -so,—they know that among these unmarried feminine forces they have -to reckon with some of the cleverest heads of the day, to whom no -opprobrious term of contempt dare be applied,—women who are editors -and proprietors of great newspapers,—women who manage famous schools -and colleges,—women who, being left with large fortunes, dispense the -same in magnificently organized but <i>un</i>advertised charities,—women -who do so command by their unassisted influence certain social -movements and events, that if indeed they <i>were</i> to marry, something -like confusion and catastrophe might ensue among the circles they -control by the introduction of a new and possibly undesirable element. -“Old maid,” may apply to the unfortunate female who has passed all the -days of her youth in talking about men and in failing to catch so much -as one of the wandering tribe, and who, on arriving at forty years,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -meekly retires to the chimney corner with shawl over her shoulders and -some useful knitting,—but it carries neither meaning nor application -to the brisk, brilliant American spinster who at fifty keeps her trim -svelte figure, dresses well, goes here, there and everywhere, and -sheds her beaming smile with good-natured tolerance, and perchance -something of gratitude as well, on the men she has escaped from. Life -does not run only in one channel for the American Woman. She does not -“make tracks” solely from the cradle to the altar, from the altar -to the grave. She realizes that there is more fun to be got out of -being born than just this little old measure meted out to her by the -barbaric males of earliest barbaric periods, when women were yoked to -the plough with cattle. And it is the innate consciousness of her own -power and intelligent ability that gives her the dominating charm,—the -magnetic spell under which the stolid Britisher falls more or less -stricken, stupefied and inert. He is never a great talker; she is. -Her flow of conversation bewilders him. She knows so much too—she -chatters of Shakespeare, Byron, Shelley, Keats—and he thinks he has -heard of these people somewhere before. He listens dumbly. Sometimes -he scratches his head,—occasionally he feels his moustache, if he has -one. When she laughs, he smiles slowly and dubiously. He hopes she is -not laughing at <i>him</i>. He feels—he feels—dontcherknow—that she is -“ripping.” He couldn’t tell you what he means by “ripping” to save -his life. But painfully accustomed as he is to the dull and listless -conversation of the British materfamilias, and to the half-hoydenish -conduct of the British<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> tom-boy girl who <i>will</i> insist on playing golf -and hockey with him in order not to lose him out of her sight, he is -altogether refreshed and relieved when the American Woman dawns upon -his cloudy horizon, and instead of waiting upon <i>him</i>, commands him -to wait upon <i>her</i>, with one dazzling look of her bright, audacious -eye. The American Woman is not such a fool as to go play hockey with -him at all times and in all weathers, thereby allowing him to take the -unchecked measure of her ankles. She is too clever to do anything that -might possibly show her in an unlovely or ungraceful light. She takes -care to keep her hands soft and small and white, that they may be duly -caressable,—and makes the best and prettiest of herself on all and -every occasion. And that she has succeeded in taking English society -by storm is no matter of surprise. English society, unmixed with any -foreign element, is frequently said to be the dullest in the world. It -is an entertainment where no one is entertained. A civil apathy wraps -each man and woman in its fibrous husk, and sets them separately apart -behind barricades of the most idiotic conventionality. The American -Woman is the only being that can break down these barricades and tear -the husk to shreds. No wonder she is popular! The secret of her success -is in her own personal charm and vivacious intelligence,—in her light -scorn of stupid ceremonies,—in the frank geniality of her disposition -(when she can manage to keep it unspoilt by contact with the reserved -hypocrisy of the “Smart Set,”) and the delightful spontaneity of her -thoughts which find such ready expression in equally spontaneous -speech. Altogether the American Woman is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> valuable importation into -Great Britain. She is an incarnation of the Present, and an embryo -of the Future. She is a gifted daughter of the British race, holding -within her bright, vital, ambitious identity many of the greater -possibilities of Britain. And to the question “Why is she popular?” the -answer is simple—“Because she deserves to be!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE AMERICAN BOUNDER</h2> - -<p>Everything in America is colossal, stupendous and pre-eminent,—it -follows, therefore, that the American “bounder” is the most colossal, -stupendous and pre-eminent bounder in existence. None of his tribe can -match him in “brass,”—none of his European forbears or connections -can equal him in brag. He is an inflated bladder of man, swollen out -well-nigh to bursting with the wind of the Yankee Doodle Eagle’s wing. -His aim in life appears to be to disgrace his country by his manners, -his morals and his conversation. He arrives in Europe with the air -of laying Europe under a personal debt of obligation to Providence -for having kindly permitted him to be born. As befits a son of the -goddess Liberty, he sets his proud foot on the “worn out” soil of the -Old World and prances there, even as the “wild ass” mentioned in Holy -Writ. As a citizen of the greatest Republic over which any starred or -striped flag ever flew, he extends his gracious patronage to tottering -monarchies, and allows it to be understood that he tolerates with an -amused compassion that poor, drivelling, aged and senile institution -known as the Aristocracy. He alludes to “my friend the Duke,” casually, -as one might speak of a blind beggar. He throws in a remark quite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -unexpectedly at times concerning “Betty—<i>you’ve</i> heard of her surely? -Countess Betty—the Countess of Hockyfield—oh yes!—you English snobs -rather ‘kotow’ to her, but <i>I</i> call her Betty!—she likes it!” He may -frequently be found in residence on the fourth floor back of a swagger -hotel, occupying a “bed-sitting room” littered with guide books, -“yellow” journalism, and dubious French novels, with an impressionist -sketch of the newest Paris “danseuse” in her most suggestive want of -attire set conspicuously forward for inspection. If chance visitors -happen to notice flowers on his table, he at once seethes into a -simmering scum of self-adulation. “Charming, are they not!” he -says—“So sweet! So dear of the Duchess to send them!—she knows how -fond I am of Malmaisons!—did you notice that Malmaison?—the Duchess -gathered it for me herself—it is from one of the Sandringham stock. -Of course you know the carnation houses at Sandringham? Alex. delights -in Malmaisons!” And when guileless strangers gasp and blink as they -realize that it is England’s gracious Queen-Consort who is being spoken -of as “Alex.” in the company of the soiled literature and the portrait -of the Paris “danseuse” the Bounder is delighted. He feels he has made -a point. He chortles cheerfully on—“What a rotten old country this -is after all, eh? Just crawling alive with snobs! Everyone’s on their -knees to a title, and the sight of a lord seems to give the average -Britisher a fit. Now look at me! I don’t care a cent about your dukes -and earls. Why should I? I’m always with ’em—fact is, they can’t bear -to have me out of their sight!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> Lady Belinda Boomall—second daughter -of the Duke of Borrowdom,—she’s just mad on me! She thinks I’ve -got money, and I let her! It’s real fun! And as to the Marchioness -Golfhouse—she’s up to some games <i>I</i> tell you! <i>She</i> knows a thing or -two! My word!” Here he gives vent to a sound suggestive of something -between a sneeze and a snigger which is his own particular way of -rendering the laugh satirical. “I always get on with your blue-blooded -girls!”—he proceeds; “I guess they’re pretty tired of their own men -hulking round! They take to an Am<i>urr</i>ican as ducks take to water. -See all those cards?”—pointing in a casual way to half a dozen or -so of pasteboard slips littered on the mantelshelf, among which -the discerning observer might certainly see one or two tradesmen’s -advertisements—“They just shower ’em on me! I’ve got an ‘at home’ -to-night and a ball afterwards—to-morrow I breakfast at Marlborough -House;—then lunch with Lady Adelaide Sparkler,—she drives me in the -Park afterwards—and in the evening I dine at St. James’ Palace and go -to the Opera with the Rothschilds. It’s always like that with me! I -never have a moment to myself. All these people want me. Lady Adelaide -Sparkler declares she cannot possibly do without me! I ought to have -been at Stafford House this afternoon—great show on there—but I can’t -be bothered!—the Duchess is just too trying for words sometimes! Of -course it’s all a question of connection;—they know who I am and all -about my ancestors, and that makes ’em so anxious to have me. You know -who my ancestors were?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now when the American Bounder puts this question, he ought to receive a -blunt answer. Perhaps if Britishers were as rude as they are sometimes -reported to be, one of them would give such an answer straight. He -would say “No, I do not; but I expect you sprang from a convict root of -humanity thrown out as bad rubbish from an over-populated prison and -cast by chance into American soil beside an equally rank native Indian -weed—and that in your present bad form and general condition, you are -the expressive result of that disastrous combination.” But, as a rule, -even the most truculent Britisher’s natural pluck is so paralysed by -the American Bounder’s amazing capacity for lying, that in nine cases -out of ten, he merely murmurs an inarticulate negative. Whereat the -Bounder at once proceeds to enlighten him—“I am the direct descendant -of the Scroobys of Scrooby in Yorkshire,”—he resumes—“<i>My</i> name’s -not Scrooby—no!—but that has nothing to do with it. The families -got mixed. Scrooby of Scrooby went over to Holland in 1607 and joined -the Pilgrim Fathers. He was quite a boy, but Elder Brewster took care -of him! He held the Bible when Brewster first fell upon his knees -and thanked God. So you see I really come from Yorkshire. Real old -Yorkshire ham ‘cured’ into an Am<i>urr</i>ican!”</p> - -<p>After this, there is nothing more to be said. Questions of course might -be asked as to how the “Yorkshire ham” not being “Scrooby” now, ever -started from “Scrooby” in the past, only it is not worth while. It -never is worth while to try and certify an American Bounder’s claim to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -being sprung from a dead and gone family of English gentlemen. Regard -for the dead and gone English gentlemen should save them from this -affront to their honourable dust.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most amazing thing about the American Bounder after his -free and easy familiarities with “Bertie” (the King) “Alex.” (the -Queen) and “Georgie and May” (the Prince and Princess of Wales) is -his overweening, self-satisfied, complacent and arrogant ignorance. -The most blatant little local tradesman who, through well-meaning -Parliamentary short-sightedness in educational schemes, becomes -a “governor” of a Technical School in the provinces, is never so -blatantly ignorant as he. He talks of everything and knows nothing. -He assumes to have the last word in science, art and literature. He -will tell you he is “great chums” with Marconi and Edison, and that -these famous discoverers and inventors always lay their heads on his -bosom and tell him their dearest confidences. He knows just what is -going to be done by everybody with everything. He is friends with the -Drama too. Beerbohm Tree rings him up on the telephone at all manner -of strange hours, thirsting for his advice on certain “scenes” and -“effects.” He is—to use his own words—“doing a great thing” for -Tree! Sarah Bernhardt is his very dearest of dear ones! She has fallen -into his arms, coming off the stage at the side wings, exhausted, and -exclaiming—“Toi, mon cher! Enfin! Maintenant, je respire!” Madame -Réjane is always at home to him. In fact all Paris hails him with a joy -too deep for tears. He would not be a true “Am<i>urr</i>ican”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> if <i>he</i> did -not love Paris, and if Paris did not love <i>him</i>.</p> - -<p>But though he is completely “at one,” according to his own statement, -with most of the celebrated personages of the day, if not all, he -cannot tell you the most commonly known facts about them to save his -life. And though—again according to his own statement—he has read -every book ever published, visited every picture gallery, “salon” -and theatre in Europe, he cannot pronounce the name of one single -foreign author or artist correctly. His English is bad enough, but -his French is worse. He seldom makes excursions into the Italian -language—“Igh—talian” as he calls it, but it is quite enough for -the merest beginner in the Tuscan tongue to hear him say “gondòla” -to take the measure of his capacity. “Gòndola” is a word so easily -learned and so often used in Italian, that one might think any -child could master its pronunciation from twice hearing it—but the -American Bounder makes the whole tour of Italy without losing a scrap -of his own special nasal lingo, and returns in triumph to talk of -the “gondòla” and the “bella ràgg-azza” (instead of ragàzza) till -one’s ears almost ache with the hideous infliction of his abominable -accent. In Switzerland he is always alluding to “Mount Blank”—the -“Can<i>tone</i> Gry-son”—“N<i>oo</i>-shatell”—and the “Mountain Vert”—and -in Great Britain he has been heard to speak of Lo<i>che</i> Kay-trine and -Ben <i>Nee</i>vis, as well as of Con<i>iss</i>ton and Cornwàll. But it is quite -“correct” he will tell you—it is only the English people who do not -know how to talk English. The actual, true, pure pronunciation of the -English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> language went over to the States with the Scroobys of Scrooby, -and he their descendant and Bounder, has preserved it intact. Even -Shakespeare’s river Avon becomes metamorphosed under the roll of his -atrocious tongue. He will not pronounce it with the English A, as in -the word “b<i>a</i>y,”—he calls it A’von, as the “a” is sounded in the word -<i>av</i>arice—so that the soft poetic name of the classic stream appears -to have been bitten off by him and swallowed like a pop-corn. But it -would be of no use to argue with him on this or on any other point, -because he is always right. No real American Bounder was ever wrong.</p> - -<p>One cannot but observe what a close acquaintance the Bounder has with -Debrett and various “County” Directories. His study of these volumes -is almost as profound as that of Mr. Balfour must have been when -writing “The Foundations of Belief.” Between Debrett and Baedeker he -manages to elicit a certain useful stock of surface information which -he imparts in a kind of cheap toy-cracker fashion to various persons, -who, politely listening, wonder why he appears to think that they -are not aware of facts familiar to them from their childhood. His -modes of appearing “to know, you know!” are exceedingly simple. For -example, suppose him to be asked to join a “house-party” in Suffolk. He -straightway studies the “County Directory” of that quarter of England, -and looks up the principal persons mentioned therein in various other -books of handy reference. When, in due course, he arrives at the -house to which he has been invited, he manages to faintly surprise -uninitiated persons by his (apparently) familiar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> acquaintance with -the pedigree and history of this or that “county” magnate, and his -(apparently) intimate knowledge of such and such celebrated paintings -and “objets d’art” as adorn the various historical mansions in the -district—knowledge for which he is merely indebted to Baedeker. He -is as loquacious as a village washerwoman. He will relate any number -of scandalous stories in connection with the several families of -whose ways and doings he pretends to have such close and particular -information—and should any listener interrupt him with a mild “Pardon -me!—but, having resided in this neighbourhood all my life I venture -to think you must be mistaken”;—he merely smiles blandly at such a -display of “native” ignorance. “Lived here all your life and not know -that!” he exclaims—“My word! It takes an Am<i>urr</i>ican to teach you -what’s going on in your own country!”</p> - -<p>Offensive as is this more or less ordinary type of American Bounder -who makes his “home in Yew-rope” on fourth floors of fashionable -hotels, a still worse and more offensive specimen is found in the -Starred-and-Striped Bounding Millionaire. This individual—who -has frequently attained to a plethora of cash through one of two -reprehensible ways—either by “sweating” labour, or by fooling -shareholders in “trust” companies,—comes to Great Britain with -the fixed impression that everything in the “darned old place” -can be bought for money. Unfortunately he is often right. The -British—originally and by nature proud, reserved, and almost savagely -tenacious of their freedom and independence—have been bitten by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -the Transatlantic madness of mere Greed, and their blood has been -temporarily poisoned by infection. But one may hope and believe that it -is only a passing malady, and that the old healthy life will re-invest -the veins of the nation all the more strongly for partial sickness and -relapse. In the meantime it occasionally happens that the “free” Briton -bows his head like a whipped mongrel cur to the bulging Bank-Account of -the American Millionaire-Bounder. And the American Millionaire-Bounder -plants his flat foot on the so foolishly bent pate and walks over it -with a commercial chuckle. “You talk of your ‘Noblesse oblige,’ your -honour, your old historic tradition and aristocratic Order!” he says, -sneeringly—“Why there isn’t a man alive in Britain that I couldn’t -buy, principles and all, for fifty thousand pounds!”</p> - -<p>This kind of vaunt at Britain’s expense is common to the American -Millionaire-Bounder—and whether it arises out of his conscious -experience of the British, or his braggart conceit, must be left to -others to query or determine. Certain it is that he <i>does</i> buy a good -deal, and that the owners of such things as he wants seem always ready -to sell. Famous estates are knocked down to him—manuscripts and -pictures which should be the preciously guarded property of the nation, -are easily purchased by him,—and, laughing in his sleeve at the -purblind apathy of the British Government, which calmly looks on while -he pockets such relics of national greatness as unborn generations -will vainly and indignantly ask for,—he congratulates himself on -possessing, as he says, “the only few things the old country has got -left worth having.” One can but look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> gloomily through the “Calendar of -Shakespearean Rarities,” collected by Halliwell Phillips, which were -offered to the wealthy city of Birmingham for £7,000, and reflect that -this same wealthy city disgraced itself by refusing to purchase the -collection and by allowing everything to be bought and carried away -from England by “an American” in 1897. We do not say this American was -a “Bounder”—nevertheless, if he had been a real lover of Shakespeare’s -memory, rather than of himself, he would have bought these relics for -Shakespeare’s native country and presented them for Shakespeare’s sake -to Shakespeare’s native people, who are not, as a People, to blame -for the parsimony of their Governments. They pay taxes enough in all -conscience, and at least they deserve that what few relics remain of -their Greatest Man should be saved and ensured to them.</p> - -<p>But perhaps the American Millionaire-Bounder is at his best when he has -bought an English newspaper and is running it in London. Then he feels -as if he were running the Imperial Government itself—nay, almost the -Monarchy. He imagines that he has his finger on the very pulse of Time. -He hugs himself in the consciousness that the British people,—that -large majority of them who are not behind the scenes—buy his paper, -believing it to be a British paper, not a journal of “Am<i>urr</i>ican” -opinion, that is, opinion as ordered and paid for by one “Am<i>urr</i>ican.” -He knows pretty well in his own mind that if they understood that such -was the actual arrangement, they would save their pence. Unfortunately -the great drawback of the “man in the street” who buys newspapers, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -that he has no time to enquire as to the way in which the journals he -confides in are “run.” If he knew that the particular view taken of the -political situation in a certain journal, was merely the political view -<i>ordered</i> to be taken by one “Am<i>urr</i>ican”—naturally he would not pin -his simple faith upon it. Perhaps the Man in the Street will some day -wake up to the realization that in many cases, (though not all) with -respect to journalism, he only exists to be “gulled.”</p> - -<p>Like all good and bad things, the American Bounder, whether millionaire -or only shabby-genteel, has a certain height beyond which he can -no further go—a point where he culminates in a blaze of ultra -Bounder-ism. This brilliant apotheosis is triumphantly reached in the -Female of his species. The American Female Bounder is the quintessence -of vulgarity, and in every way makes herself so objectionable even -to her own people and country that Americans themselves view her -departure for “Yew-rope” with perfect equanimity, and hope she will -never come back. Once in what she calls “the old country” she talks -all day long through her quivering nose of “Lady This” and “Countess -That.” One of this class I recall now as I write, who spoke openly of -a “Mrs. Countess So-and-So”—and utterly declined to be instructed in -any other form of address. She was not content to trace her lineage -to such humble folk as the “Scroobys of Scrooby”—no indeed, not she! -Kings were <i>her</i> ancestors; her “family tree” sprouted from Richard the -Lion-Heart, according to her own bombastic assertion, and she, with her -loud twanging voice, odious manners<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> and insufferable impertinence, was -“genuine stock” of royallest origin. Of course it is quite possible -that, as in horticulture, a once nobly cultivated human plant may, -if left without wholesome or fostering influences, degenerate into a -weed—but that so rank a weed as the American Female Bounder should -be the dire result of the Conqueror’s blood is open to honest doubt. -She generally has a “mission” to reform something or somebody,—she is -very often a “Christian science” woman, or a theosophist. Sometimes -she “takes up” Art as though it were a dustpan, and sweeps into it -under her “patronage” certain dusty and doubtful literary and musical -aspirants who want a “hearing” for their efforts. Fortunately for the -world, a “hearing” under the gracious auspices of the American Female -Bounder means a silence everywhere else. She is fond of “frocks and -frills”—and wears an enormous quantity of jewels, “stones” as she -calls them. She “pushes” herself in every possible social direction, -and wherever she sees she is not wanted, there, more particularly than -elsewhere, she contrives to force an entry. She embraces the game of -“Bridge” with passionate eagerness because she sees that by keeping -open house, with card-tables always ready, she can attract the loafing -“great ones of the earth,” and possibly persuade a “Mrs. Countess” to -befriend her. If she is fairly wealthy, she can generally manage to -do this. All Mrs. Countesses have not “that repose which stamps the -caste of Vere de Vere.” Some of them find the American Female Bounder -useful—and precisely in the manner she offers herself, even so they -take her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> And thus it often happens that one frequently meets her -where she has no business to be. One is not surprised to find her at -Court, or in the Royal enclosure at Ascot, because so many of her -British sisters in the Bounder line are in these places, ready to give -her a helping hand—but one <i>is</i> occasionally startled and in a manner -sorry to discover her making herself at home among certain “exclusive” -people who are chiefly distinguished for their good-breeding, culture -and refinement. In one thing, however, we can take much comfort, and -this is, that whatever the American Bounder, Male or Female, may -purchase or otherwise insidiously obtain in the Old World, neither -he nor she can ever secure respect. Driven to bay as the Britisher -may be by consummate and pertinacious lying, he can and does withhold -from the liars his honest esteem. He may sell a valuable manuscript or -picture to a “bounding” Yankee, out of sheer necessitous circumstance, -but he will never be “friends” with the purchaser. He will call him -“bounder” to the crack of doom, and Doomsday itself will not alter that -impression of him.</p> - -<p>It may be, and it is I think, taken for granted that America itself -is very glad to get rid of its “bounders.” It regards them with as -much shame and distress as we feel when we see certain specimens of -“travelling English” disporting themselves upon the Continent in the -’Arry and Jemima way. We always fervently hope that our Continental -neighbours will not take these extraordinary roughs as bona-fide -examples of the British people, and in the same way America trusts all -the nations of Europe not to accept their “Bounders” as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> examples of -the real pith and power of the United States. The American People are -too great, too broad-minded, sane, and thorough, not to wish to shake -off these <i>aphides</i> on their rose of life. They watch them “clearing -out” for “Yew-rope” with perfect satisfaction. Said a charming American -woman to me the other day—“What a pity it is that English people -<i>will</i> keep on receiving Americans here who would not be tolerated for -a moment in New York or Boston society! It surprises us very greatly. -Sometimes indeed we cannot help laughing to see the names of women -figuring among your ‘haute noblesse’ who would never get inside a -decent house anywhere in the States. But more often we are sorry that -your social ‘leaders’ are so easily taken in!”</p> - -<p>Here indeed is the sum total of the matter. If Great Britain—and other -countries in Europe—but Great Britain especially—did not “receive” -and encourage the American Bounder and Bounderess, these objectionable -creatures would never be known or heard of. Therefore it is our fault -that they exist. Were it not for our short-sighted foolishness, and -our proneness to believe that every “Am<i>urr</i>ican” with money must -be worth knowing, we should be better able to sort the sheep from -the goats. We should add to the pleasures of our social life and -intercourse an agreeable knowledge of the real American ladies, the -real American gentlemen; and though these are seldom seen over here, -for the very good reason that they are valued and wanted in their own -country, they could at least be certain, when they did come, of being -received at their proper valuation, and not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> set to herd with the -“Bounders” of their country, whom their country rejects. For one may -presume that there is some cogent reason why an American citizen of -the Greatest Republic in the world, should elect to desert his native -land and “settle down” under “rotten old monarchies.” People do not -leave the home of their birth for ever unless they find it impossible -to live there for causes best known to themselves. The poor are often -compelled to emigrate, we know, in the hope to find employment and -food in other countries—but when the rich “slope off” from the very -centres where they have made their capital, one may be permitted to -doubt the purity of their intentions. Anyway, surrounded as we are -to-day socially by American Bounders of every description,—American -Bounders who think themselves as good as any one else “and a darned -sight better”—American Bounders who declare that they are the “real -old British race renewed,”—American Bounders who “run” British -journals of “literary opinion” and so forth,—American Bounders who -thrust themselves into the company of unhappy kings and queens,—those -crowned slaves who in such earthquaking days as these have to be more -than common careful “not to offend,”—American Bounders who themselves -claim kinship with the blood royal,—the one straight and simple fact -remains—namely, that all the best Americans still live in America!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> - -<h2>COWARD ADAM</h2> - -<p>Among the numerous fascinating and delightful members of the male -sex whom I have the honour to count as friends, there is one very -handsome and devotedly attentive gentleman of four years old, who is -particularly fond of reciting to me in private the following striking -poem on the Fall of Man.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>When Mister Sarpint did deceive</div> -<div>Poor little silly Missis Eve,</div> -<div>The Lord he spied an apple gone</div> -<div>From off the branch it hanged upon;</div> -<div>That apple was a heavy loss,</div> -<div>And so the Lord got very cross,</div> -<div>He searched the garden through and through,</div> -<div>And called “Hi Adam! where are you?”</div> -<div class="i2">But Mister Adam, he,</div> -<div class="i2">Clum up a tree.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>There is something in this graphic narrative which appears to tickle my -young cavalier’s fancy immensely, for whenever he says “Mister Adam, -he, Clum up a tree,” he opens his big blue eyes very widely, claps his -tiny hands very loudly, and gives vent to ecstatic shrieks of laughter. -It is quite evident that he entirely understands and appreciates Adam’s -position. Young as he is, he has the instinctive knowledge within him -that when the time comes, he will likewise adopt the “Clum up a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> tree” -policy. For Adam is the same Adam still, and nothing will ever change -him. And when things are getting rather “mixed” in his career, and the -forbidden fruit he has so readily devoured turns out to be rather more -sour and tasteless than he had anticipated,—when his Garden of Eden -is being searched through and through for the causes of the folly and -disobedience which have devastated its original fairness, the same old -story may be said of him—“Mister Adam, he, Clum up a tree.” Perhaps -if he only climbed a tree one might excuse him,—but unfortunately he -talks while climbing,—talks as though he were an old babbling grandam -instead of a lord of creation,—and grandam-like puts the blame on -somebody else. He says—“The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, -she gave me of the tree and I did eat.” Coward Adam! Observe how he -at once transfers the fault of his own lack of will and purpose to -the weaker, more credulous, more loving and trusting partner;—how he -leaves her defenceless to brave the wrath which he himself dreads,—and -how he never for one half second dreams of admitting himself to be the -least in the wrong! But there is always one great satisfaction to be -derived from the perusal of the strange old Eden story, and this is -that “Mister Sarpint” was of the male gender. Scripture leaves no room -for doubt on this point. It says: “Now the serpent was more subtil -than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And <i>he</i> said -unto the woman——” So that a “he” tempted a woman, before “she” ever -tempted a “he.” Women should be duly thankful for the sex of “Mister -Sarpint,” and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> should also bear in mind that this particular “he” was -“more subtil than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made.” -On many an occasion it will be found a salutary and useful fact to -remember.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time, so we are told, there was an Age of Chivalry. The -word “chivalry” is stated in the dictionary to be derived from the -French “cheval” a horse, and “chivalrous” men were, in the literal -meaning of the term, merely men who rode about on horseback. But -chivalry has somehow come to imply respect, devotion, and reverence -for women. The “chivalrous” knight is supposed to have gone all over -the world, wearing the glove or the ribbon of his “ladye faire,” in -his helmet, and challenging to single combat every other knight that -dared to question the supremacy of her beauty and virtue. I confess -at once that I do not believe in him. If he ever existed he must have -been a most unnatural and abnormal product of humanity, as unlike his -first progenitor Adam as he could well be. For even in the “Round -Table” romances one finds an entire lack of chivalry in the so-called -chivalrous knights of King Arthur. Their moral principles left much to -be desired, and the conduct of Sir Meliagraunce who betrayed the loves -of Lancelot and the Queen was merely that of a common sneak. Coward -Adam spoke in him, as in many of the Arthurian heroes,—and that they -were more “chivalrous” than the modern male gossips who jeer away a -woman’s name and honour in their smoking and gaming rooms, is a legend -which like that of the Tree of Good and Evil itself, requires stronger -confirmation than history as yet witnesseth. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> - -<p>Coward Adam, taking him as he appears in the present day, has lately -shown himself off in various odd phases and lamentable positions. -During the South African War he came out strong in some of our -generals, who put the blame of certain military mishaps on one another -like quarrelsome children, thereby losing dignity and offering a most -humiliating spectacle to the amazed British public. Coward Adam’s -policy, after making a blunder, is to adopt any lie, rather than say -frankly and boldly—“I did it!” He will eat dirt by the bushel in -preference to the nobler starvation act of singly facing his foes. He -is just now exhibiting himself to his usual advantage in the British -Parliament, while the nation looks on, waiting for the inevitable -finale of his various hesitations and inefficiencies—the “Mister -Adam, he, Clum up a tree.” For in most matters of social, political, -and moral progress, the great difficulty is to obtain an upright, -downright, honest and impartial opinion from any leading public man. -The nation may be drifting devilwards, but statesmen are judged to -be more statesmanlike, if they hold their tongues and watch it go. -They must not speak the truth. It would offend so many people. It -would upset so many interests. It would create a panic on the Stock -Exchange. It would throw Wall Street into hysterics. The world’s vast -public, composed of thinking, working, and more or less educated -and intelligent people, may and do crave for a bold utterance, a -truth openly enunciated and bravely maintained, but to the weavers -of political intrigue and the self-seeking schemers in Governmental -departments, the public is considered merely as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> Big Child, to be -soothed with lollipop phrases and tickled by rattle promises. If the -Big Child cries and screams because it is hungry, they chirp to it -about Fair Trade,—if it complains that its ministers of religion -are trying to make it say its prayers backwards, they promise a full -“enquiry into recent abuses in the Church.” But fine words butter no -parsnips. Coward Adam always climbs up a tree as quickly as he can -when instead of fine words, fine deeds are demanded. Physical feats -of skill, physical gymnastics of all kinds he excels in, but a moral -difficulty always places him as it did in the Garden of Eden, in what -he would conventionally term “an awkward position.”</p> - -<p>“Never kiss and tell” is I believe an “unwritten law of chivalry.” -This law, so I understand, Coward Adam does sometimes manage to obey, -albeit reluctantly. Because he would like to tell,—he would very much -like to tell,—if—if the story of the kiss did not involve himself -in the telling! But at this juncture “the unwritten laws of chivalry” -step in and he is saved. And chivalry is the tree up which he climbs, -chattering to himself the usual formula—“The woman whom thou gavest to -be with me,”—etcetera, etcetera. Alas, poor woman! She has heard him -saying this ever since she, in an unselfish desire to share her food -with him, gave him the forbidden apple. No doubt she offered him its -rosiest and ripest side! She always does,—at first. Not afterwards! As -soon as he turns traitor and runs up a tree, she takes to pelting him, -metaphorically speaking, with cocoa-nuts. This is quite natural on her -part. She <i>had</i> thought him a man,—and when he suddenly changes into -a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> monkey, she doesn’t understand it. To this cause may possibly be -attributed some of the ructions which occasionally jar the harmonious -estate of matrimony.</p> - -<p>Coward Adam does very well in America. He sees his position there -quite plainly. He knows that if he climbs his tree too often, hundreds -of feminine hands will pull him down. So he resigns himself to the -inevitable. He is not slow to repeat the customary whine—“The woman -whom thou gavest me”—but he says it quietly to himself between whiles. -Because he knows that <i>she</i> knows all his share in the mischief! -So he digs and delves, and finds gold and silver and limitless oil -wherewith to turn into millions of dollars for her pleasure; he packs -pork, lays railway tracks, starts companies, organizes “combines”—and -strains every nerve and sinew to “do” every other Adam save himself -in his own particular line of business, so that “the woman” (or may -we say the women?) “whom thou gavest” may be clothed in Paris model -gowns, and wear jewels out-rivalling in size and lustre those of all -the kings and queens that ever made their sad and stately progress -through history. Indeed, Coward Adam, in the position he occupies as a -free citizen of that mighty Republic over which the wild eagle screams -exultingly, looks a little bit like a beaten animal. But he bears his -beating well, and is quite pleasant about it. In regard to “the woman -whom thou gavest me” he is nearer the imaginary code of “chivalry” -than his European brother. If the original Adam had learned the ways -of a modern American gentleman of good education and fine manners, -one can quite imagine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> him saying—“The woman whom thou gavest to be -with me generously offered me a share of the apple, and I did eat. But -the Serpent whom thou didst permit to tell lies to my amiable partner -concerning this special kind of fruit, was chiefly to blame.”</p> - -<p>Coward Adam, as he is seen and known among the lower classes, crops up -every day in newspapers, which duly chronicle his various acts, such -as promising marriage to poor working girls and robbing them of all -their little savings, as well as of their good names,—kicking his -wife, starving his children, and spending every penny he earns in the -public-house. But he is just as frequently met with in the houses of -the Upper Ten. He will wear the garb of a lord with ease, and, entering -the house of another lord, will cozen his host’s wife away from loyalty -to her husband in quite the manner “friendly.” He is likewise to be -found occasionally in the walks of literature, and where a woman is -concerned in matters artistic will “down” her if he can. He has always -done his best to hinder woman from receiving any acknowledgment for -superior intellectual ability. Notably one may quote the case of Madame -Curie, the discoverer of radium. Coward Adam says she discovered it by -“a fluke”—that is to say, by chance. Most great discoveries occur, -even to men, in the same way. In the present instance the “chance” -came to a woman. Why should she not therefore have all the honour due -to her?—the same honour precisely as would fall to the lot of a man -in her place? Columns upon columns of praise would be bestowed upon -her were she of Adam’s sex, and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> the academies of science would -contend with each other as to which should offer her the best and -most distinctive award. But Coward Adam cannot abide the thought that -“the woman whom thou gavest” should take an occasionally higher rank -than his own among the geniuses of his age. He must have everything -or nothing. He tries to ignore the fact that woman is winning equal -honours with himself in University degrees; he would fain forget that -the two greatest monarchs Great Britain ever had were women—Elizabeth -and Victoria. There is a brave Adam, of course—a civilized creature -who owns and admits the brilliant achievements of woman with pride and -tenderness,—I am only just now speaking of the coward specimen. The -brave Adam does not turn tail or climb trees, and he appears to have -had nothing to do with the Garden of Eden. Very likely he was born -somewhere else. For <i>he</i> says—“The woman whom thou gavest to be with -me is the joy of my life,—the companion of my thoughts. To her my soul -turns,—for her my heart beats—in her I rejoice,—her triumphs are my -pride,—her success is my delight! If danger threatens her, I will be -her defender, not her accuser,—should she be blamed for aught, I will -take her fault upon myself, and will serve as a strong shield between -her and calumny. This is the least I can do to prove my love towards -her—for without her I should be the worst of creatures,—a lonely soul -in an empty world!”</p> - -<p>So says, or may say brave Adam! But his coward brother does not -understand such high-flown sentiments. Coward Adam’s main object in -life is to “avoid a scene” with either the Lord<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> Almighty, Mister -Sarpint or Missis Eve. He likes to wriggle out of difficulties, -both public and private, in a quiet way. He does not understand the -“methods” of plain blunt people who tell him frankly what a sneak he -is. He is very ubiquitous, and much more frequently to be met with than -his braver twin. And if he should chance to read what I have here set -down concerning him, he will probably say as usual: “The woman whom -thou gavest” in various forms of anonymous vituperation. But his active -policy will remain the same as it ever was—“Mister Adam, he, Clum up a tree!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> - -<h2>ACCURSËD EVE</h2> - -<p>When the masculine Serpent, “who was more subtil than any beast of the -field which the Lord had made,” tempted the mother of mankind to eat -of the forbidden fruit, the Voice in the Garden said to her—“I will -greatly multiply thy sorrow!” It can scarcely be denied that this curse -has been fulfilled. So manifold and incessant have been the sorrows -of Woman since the legendary account of the creation of the world, -that one cannot help thinking the whole business somewhat unfair, -if,—for merely being “beguiled” by a beast of the field who was known -to be more “subtil” than any other, and afterwards being “given away” -by Coward Adam,—Eve and all the descendants of her sex should be -compelled to suffer centuries of torture. The injustice is manifestly -cruel and arbitrary,—yet it would seem to have followed poor Accursëd -Eve from then till now. “I will greatly multiply thy sorrow!” And -sorrow has been multiplied to such an aggravated and barbarous extent -upon her unfortunate head, that in the Jewish ritual to this very -day there is a part of the service wherein the men, standing in the -presence of women, individually say: “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, -King of the universe, who hast not made me a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> woman!” thus deliberately -insulting, in their very house of worship, the sex of their mothers!</p> - -<p>But from the earliest times, if we are to accept historical testimony, -the Jews of the ancient world appear to have treated women in the -majority as “Something worser than their dog, a little lower than -their horse.” Save and except those rare cases where the Jewish woman -suddenly found out her latent powers and employed them to advantage, -the Jewish man made her fetch and carry for him like a veritable beast -of burden. He yoked her to his plough with oxen,—he sold and exchanged -her with his friends as freely as any other article of commerce,—his -“base uses” of her were various, and seldom to his credit,—while, such -as they were, they only lasted so long as they satisfied his immediate -humour. When done with, she was “cast out.” The kind of “casting out” -to which she was subjected is not always explained. But it may be taken -for granted that in many instances she was either killed immediately, -or turned adrift to die of starvation and weariness. The Jews in their -Biblical days were evidently not much affected by her griefs. They were -God’s “chosen” people,—and the fact that women were the mothers of the -whole “chosen” race, appeared to call for no claim on their chivalrous -tenderness or consideration.</p> - -<p>Looking back through the vista of time to that fabled Eden, when -she listened to the tempting of the “subtil” one, the wrongs and -injustices endured by Accursëd Eve at the hand of Coward Adam make up -a calendar of appalling, almost superhuman crime. Man has taken the -full licence allowed him by the old Genesis story (which, by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> way, -was evidently invented by man himself for his own convenience). “Thy -desire shall be to thy husband and he shall rule over thee.” And among -all tribes, and in all nations he <i>has</i> ruled with a rod of iron! The -Christian dispensation has interfered somewhat with his former reign of -tyranny, for with the birth of Christ came, to a certain extent, the -idealization and beatification of womanhood. The Greeks and Romans, -however, had a latent glimmering idea of what Woman in all her glory -should be, and of what she might possibly attain to in the future,—for -all their grandest symbols of life, such as Truth, Beauty, Justice, -Fortune, Fame, Wisdom, are always represented by their sculptors -clothed in the female form divine. It is a curious fact, that in those -early periods of civilization, when Literature and Art were just -dawning upon the world, man, though aggregating to his own Ego nearly -everything in the universe, paused before representing himself as a -figure of Justice, Mercy or Wisdom. He evidently realized his unfitness -to stand, even in marble, before the world as a symbol of moral virtue. -He therefore, with a grace which well became him in those “pagan” days, -bent the knee to all noble attributes of humanity as represented in -Woman. Her fair face, her beauteous figure, greeted him in all his -temples of worship;—as Venus and Diana she smiled upon him; as the -goddess of Fortune or Chance, she accepted his votive wreaths,—as -Fame or Victory, she gave him blessing whenever he went to war, or -returned in triumph from the field;—and all this was but the embryo -or shadowing-forth of woman’s higher future and better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> possibilities, -when the days of her long and cruel probation should be accomplished, -and her “curse” in part be lifted. There are signs and tokens that -this happy end is in sight. Accursëd Eve is beginning to have a good -time. And the only fear now is, lest she should overstep the mark of -her well-deserved liberty and run headlong into licence. For Eve,—with -or without curse,—is naturally impulsive and credulous; and being too -often forgetful of the little incident which occurred to her in the -matter of the Tree of Good and Evil, is still far too prone to listen -to the beguiling of “subtil” personages worse “than any beast of the -field which the Lord hath made.”</p> - -<p>Accursëd Eve, having broken several of her old-time fetters, and -beginning to feel her feet as well as her wings, just now wants a -word in politics. As one of her cursëd daughters, I confess I wonder -that she should wish to put herself to so much unnecessary trouble, -seeing that she has the whole game in her hands. Politics are generally -hustled along by Coward Adam,—unless, by rarest chance, Brave Adam, -his twin brother, suddenly steps forth unexpectedly, when there ensues -what is called a “collapse of the Government.” In any question, small -or great, Accursëd Eve has only to offer Coward Adam the apple, and he -will eat it. Which metaphor implies that even in politics, if she only -moves him round gradually to her own views in that essentially womanly -way which, while persuading, seems not to persuade, he is bound to -yield. Personally speaking, I do not know any man who is not absolutely -under the thumb of at least one woman. And I will not believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> that -there is any woman so feeble, so stupid, so lost to the power and charm -of her own individuality, as not to be able to influence quite half -a dozen men. This being the case, what does Accursëd Eve want with a -vote? If she is so unhappy, so ugly, so repulsive, so deformed in mind -and manners as to have no influence at all on any creature of the male -sex whatever, neither father, nor brother, nor uncle, nor cousin, nor -lover, nor husband, nor friend,—would the opinion of such an one be of -any consequence, or her vote of any value? I assert nothing,—I only -ask the question.</p> - -<p>Speaking personally as a woman, I have no politics, and want none. I -only want the British Empire to be first and foremost in everything, -and I tender my sincerest homage to all the men of every party who will -honestly work towards that end. These being my sentiments, I deprecate -any strong separate parliamentary attitude on the part of Accursëd Eve. -I say that she has much better, wider work to do than take part in -tow-rows with the rather undignified personages who often make somewhat -of a bear-garden of the British House of Commons. That she would prove -a good M.P. were she a man, I am quite sure; but as a woman I know she -“goes one better,” in becoming the wife of an M.P.</p> - -<p>Accursëd Eve! Mother of the world! What higher thing does she seek? -Mother of Christianity itself, she stands before us, a figure symbolic -of all good, her Holy Child in her arms, her sweet, musing, prayerful -face bending over it in gravely tender devotion. From her soft breast -humanity springs renewed,—she represents the youth, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> hope, the -love of all mankind. Wronged as she has been, and as she still is, -her patience never fails. Deceived, she “mends her broken shell with -pearl,” and still trusts on. Her sweet credulousness is the same as -ever it was;—the “subtil” one can always over-reach her through her -too ready confidence in the idea that “all things work together for -good.” Her “curse” is the crime of loving too well,—believing too -much. Should a “subtil” one say he loves her, she honestly thinks he -does. When he turns out, as often happens, to be looking after her -money rather than herself, she can scarcely force her mind to realize -that he is not so much hero as cad. When she has to earn her own living -in any of the artistic professions, she will frequently tell all her -plans, hopes and ambitions to “subtil” ones with the most engaging -frankness. The “subtil” ones naturally take every advantage of her, and -some of them put a stopgap on her efforts if they can.</p> - -<p>How many times men have tried to steal away the honour of a woman’s -name and fame in literature need not here be chronicled. Of how many -books, bearing a woman’s name on the title-page it is said—“Her -husband helped her,”—or “She got Mr. So-and-So to write the -descriptive part!” “George Eliot” has often been accused of being -assisted in her novels by Mr. Lewes. A little incident,—touching -enough to my mind,—is related in the memoirs of Charlotte Brontë. -After her marriage, and when she was expecting the birth of her -child, she was reading some of the first chapters of an intended new -novel to her husband,—who, as he listened, said in that peculiarly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>encouraging way which is common to men who have gifted women to deal -with—“You seem to be repeating yourself. You must take care not to -repeat yourself.” Poor little soul! She never “repeated” herself,—she -just died. No one can tell how her husband’s thoughtless phrase may -have teazed or perplexed her sensitive mind in a critical condition of -health, and helped to hasten the fatal end.</p> - -<p>Edward Fitzgerald’s celebrity as a scholar is not, and never will be -wide enough to blot out from remembrance his brutal phrase on hearing -of the death of Elizabeth Barrett Browning—</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Browning is dead. Thank God we shall have no more Aurora Leighs!”</p> - -<p>While, far more creditable to Algernon Charles Swinburne than his own -praise of himself now unfortunately affixed to the newly collected -edition of his works, is the praise he bestows on this noble -woman-genius in his preface to her great poem. I quote one line of it -here—</p> - -<p>“No English contemporary poet by profession has left us work so full of -living fire.”</p> - -<p>For once, and in this particular instance, Accursëd Eve in literature -has, in such a verdict, won her merited literary honours.</p> - -<p>But as a rule honours are withheld from her, and the laurel is filched -from her brows by Coward Adam ere she has time to wear it. One flagrant -case is well known, of a man who having lived entirely on a woman’s -literary earnings for years, went about in the clothes her pen had -paid for, among the persons to whom, through her influence, he had -been introduced, boasting that he assisted her to write<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> the greater -part of her books. To their shame be it said, a great many people -believed him; and not till he was dead, and the woman went on writing -her books as before, did they even begin to see the wrong they had -done her. They would not have dared to calumniate the false boaster as -they calumniated the innocent hard worker. The boaster was a man,—the -worker was a woman;—therefore the dishonour of passing off literary -work not one’s own, must, so they imagined, naturally belong to -Accursëd Eve,—not to Coward Adam! Of their humiliation when the real -truth was known, history sayeth nothing.</p> - -<p>Yet with all the weight of her curse more or less upon her, and with -all her sorrows, shattered ideals, wrecked hopes, and lost loves, -Accursëd Eve is still the most beautiful, the most perfect figure in -creation. Her failings, her vanities, her weaknesses, her sins, arise -in the first place from love—even if afterwards, through Coward Adam’s -ready encouragement, they degenerate into vice and animalism. Her first -impulse in earliest youth is a desire to please Adam,—the same impulse -precisely which led her to offer him the forbidden apple in the first -days of their mutual acquaintance. She wishes to charm him,—to win his -heart,—to endear herself to him in a thousand tender ways,—to wind -herself irretrievably round his life. If she succeeds in this aim, she -is invariably happy and virtuous. But if she is made to feel that she -cannot hold him on whom her thoughts are centred,—if his professed -love for her only proves weak and false when put to trial,—if he -finds it easy to forget both sentiment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> and courtesy, and is quick to -add insult to injury, then all the finer and more delicate emotions -of her nature become warped and unstrung,—and though she endures her -suffering because she must, she resents it and takes vengeance when she -can. Of resentfulness against wrong and revenge for injustice, come -what are called “bad women.” Yet I would humbly venture to maintain -that even these “bad” were not bad in the first instance. They were -born in the usual way, with the usual Eve impulse,—the desire to -please, not themselves, but the opposite sex. If their instinctive -efforts have been met with cruelty, oppression, neglect, desertion and -sometimes the most heartless and cowardly betrayal, they can scarcely -be blamed if they play the same tricks on the unloving, disloyal churls -for whom they have perhaps sacrificed the best part of their lives. -For innocent faith and trusting love <i>are</i> the best part of every -woman’s life; and when these are destroyed by the brutalizing touch of -some Coward Adam, the woman may well claim compensation for her soul’s -murder.</p> - -<p>Accursëd Eve! Still she loves,—to find herself fooled and cheated; -still she hopes, even while hope eludes her,—still she waits, for -what she may never win,—still she prays prayers that may never be -answered,—still she bears and rears the men of the future, wondering -perchance whether any of them will ever help to do her justice,—will -ever place her where she should be, as the acknowledged queenly -“help-meet” of her stronger, but less enduring partner! Beautiful, -frail, trusting, loving, Accursëd Eve! She bends beneath the -curse,—but the clouds are lifting!—there is light in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> sky of -her future dawn! And it may be that a worse malediction than the one -pronounced in Eden, will fall on those who make her burden of life -heavier to bear!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> - -<h2>“IMAGINARY” LOVE</h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i4">My love</div> -<div>Is as the very centre of the earth</div> -<div>Drawing all things to it.</div> -<div class="i6">—<i>Troilus and Cressida.</i></div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>There is perhaps no emotion more elevating or more deceptive than that -sudden uplifting of the heart and yearning of the senses which may be -called “imaginary” Love. It resembles the stirring of the sap in the -roots of flowers, thrilling the very ground with hints and promises of -spring,—it is the unspeakable outcoming of human emotion and sympathy -too great to be contained within itself,—the tremulous desire,—half -vague and wholly innocent,—of the human soul for its mate. The lower -grades of passion have not as yet ruffled the quivering white wings -of this divinely sweet emotion, and the being who is happy enough to -experience it in all its intensity, is, for the time, the most enviable -on earth. Youth or maiden, whichever it be, the world is a fairyland -for this chosen dreamer. Nothing appears base or mean,—God’s smile -is reflected in every ray of sunshine, and Nature offers no prospect -that is not pleasing. It is the season of glamour and grammarye,—a -look over the distant hills is sufficient to engage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> the mind of the -dreaming girl with brilliant fancies of gallant knights riding from -far-off countries, with their lady’s colours pinned to their breasts -“to do or die” for the sake of love and glory,—and the young boy, half -in love with a pretty face he has seen on his way home from school or -college, begins to think with all the poets, of eyes blue as skies, -of loves and doves, and hearts and darts, in happy unconsciousness -that his thoughts are not in the least original. Yet with all its -ethereal beauty and gossamer-sense of pleasure, this “imaginary” -love is often the most pathetic experience we have or ever shall -have in life. It is answerable for numberless griefs,—for bitter -disillusions,—occasionally, too, for broken hearts. It glitters -before us, a brilliant chimera, during our very young days,—and on -our entrance into society it vanishes, leaving us to pursue it through -many phases of existence, and always in vain. The poet is perhaps -the happiest of all who join in this persistent chase after the -impossible,—for he frequently continues to imagine “imaginary” love -with ecstasy and fervour to the very end of his days. Next in order -comes the musician, who in the composition of a melancholy nocturne -or tender ballad, or in the still greater work of a romantic opera, -imagines “imaginary” love in strains of perfect sound, which waken -in the hearts of his hearers all the old feverish longings, all the -dear youthful dreams, all the delicious romances which accompanied the -lovely white-winged Sentiment in days past and dead for ever. Strange -to say, it often happens that the musician, while thus appeasing his -own insatiable thirst for “imaginary”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> love, is frequently aware that -he is arousing it in others; and could he probe to the very fibres of -his thinking soul, he would confess to a certain keen satisfaction in -the fact of his being able to revivify the old restless yearning of a -pain which is sweeter to the lonely soul than pleasure.</p> - -<p>Now this expression of the “lonely soul” is used advisedly, because, -in sad truth, every human soul is lonely. Lonely at birth,—still more -lonely at death. During its progress through life it gathers around -it what it can in the way of crumbs of love, grains of affection, -taking them tenderly and with tears of gratefulness. But it is always -conscious of solitude,—an awful yet Divine solitude over which the -Infinite broods, watchful yet silent. Why it is brought into conscious -being, to live within a material frame and there perform certain duties -and labours, and from thence depart again, it cannot tell. All is a -mystery,—a strange Necessity, in which it cannot truly recognize -its part or place. Yet it is,—and one of the strongest proofs of -its separate identity from the body is this “imaginary” love for -which it yearns, and which it never obtains. “Imaginary” love is not -earthly,—neither is it heavenly,—it is something between both, a -vague and inchoate feeling, which, though incapable of being reduced -to any sort of reason or logic, is the foundation of perhaps all the -greatest art, music and poetry in the world. If we had to do merely -with men as they are, and women as they are, Art would perish utterly -from the face of the earth. It is because we make for ourselves -“ideal” men, “ideal” women, and endow these fair creations with the -sentiment of “imaginary” love, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> we still are able to communicate -with the gods. Not yet have we lowered ourselves to the level of the -beasts,—nor shall we do so, though things sometimes seem tending that -way. Realism and Atheism have darkened the world, as they darken it -now, long before the present time, and as defacements on the grandeur -of the Universe they have not been permitted to remain. Nor will they -be permitted now,—the reaction will, and must inevitably set in. The -repulsive materialism of Zola, and others of his school,—the loose -theories of the “smart” set, and the moral degradation of those who -have no greater God than self,—these things are the merest ephemera, -destined to leave no more mark on human history than the trail of a -slug on one leaf of an oak. The Ideal must always be triumphant,—the -soul can only hope to make way by climbing towards it. Thus it is with -“imaginary” Love,—it must hold fast to its ideal, or be content to -perish on the plane of sensual passion, which exhausts itself rapidly, -and once dead, is dead for ever and aye.</p> - -<p>With all its folly, sweetness, piteousness and pathos, “imaginary” love -is the keynote of Art,—its fool-musings take shape in exquisite verse, -in tales of romance and adventure, in pictures that bring the nations -together to stand and marvel, in music that makes the strong man weep. -It is the most supersensual of all delicate sensations,—as fine as a -hair, as easily destroyed as a gnat’s wing!—a rough touch will wound -it,—a coarse word will kill it,—the sneer of the Realist shuts it in -a coffin of lead and sinks it fathoms deep in the waters of despair. -Strange and cruel as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> fact may seem, Marriage appears to put an end -to it altogether.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch’s wife</div> -<div>He would have written sonnets to her all his life?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>inquires Byron. He certainly would not. The “imaginary” love of -Petrarch was the source of his poetic inspiration; if he had ever -dragged it down to the level of the commonplace Actual, he would have -killed his Muse. In a similar way the love of Dante for Beatrice was -of the “imaginary” quality. Those who read the “Vita Nuova” will -scarcely fail to see how the great poet hugs his love-fancies and -feeds himself with delicious extravagances in the way of idealized -and sublimated soul-passion. He dissects every fine hair of a stray -emotion, and writes a sonnet on every passing heart-beat. Dante’s wife -never became so transfigured in her husband’s love. Why? Alas, who can -say! No reason can be given save that perchance “familiarity breeds -contempt,” and that the Unattainable seems always more beautiful than -the Attained. The delight of possession would appear to be as brief as -the flowering of a rose. Lovers are in haste to wed,—but when the knot -is once irrevocably tied, in nine cases out of ten they wish it could -be untied again. They no longer imagine “imaginary” love! The glamour -is gone. Illusions are all over. The woman is no longer the removed, -the fair, the chaste, the unreachable,—the man ceases to be the proud, -the strong hero endowed with the attributes of the gods. “Imaginary” -love then resolves itself into one of two things,—a firm, every-day, -close<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> and tender <i>friendship</i>, or else a sick disappointment, often -ending in utter disgust. But the divine emotion of “imaginary” love -has died,—the Soul is no longer enamoured of its Ideal—and the -delicate psychic passion which inspires the poet, the painter, the -musician, turns at once to fresh objects of admiration and pursuit. For -it is never exhausted,—unlike any purely earthly sense it knows no -satiety. Deceived in one direction, it dies in another. Dissatisfied -with worldly things, it extends its longing heavenwards,—there at -least it shall find what it seeks,—not now, but hereafter! Age does -not blunt this fine emotion, for, as may often be remarked with some -beautiful souls in the decline of bodily life, the resigning of earthly -enjoyments gives them no pain,—and the sweet placidity of expectation, -rather than the dull apathy of regret, is their chief characteristic. -“Imaginary” love still beckons them on;—what has not been found Here -will be found There!</p> - -<p>Happy, and always to be envied, are those who treasure this aerial -sentiment of the spiritual brain! It is the dearest possession of -every true artist. In every thought, in every creative work or plan, -“imaginary” love goes before, pointing out wonders unseen by less -enlightened eyes,—hiding things unsightly, disclosing things lovely, -and making the world fair to the mind in all seasons, whether of storm -or calm. Intensifying every enjoyment, adding a double thrill to the -notes of a sweet song, lending an extra glow to the sunshine, an added -radiance to the witchery of the moonlight, a more varied and exquisite -colouring to the trees and flowers, a charm to every book, a delight -to every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> new scene, “imaginary” love, a very sprite of enchantment, -helps us to believe persistently in good, when those who love not at -all, neither in reality nor in idealization, are drowning in the black -waters of suicidal despair.</p> - -<p>So it is well for us—those who can—to imagine “imaginary” love! We -shall never grasp the Dream in this world—nevertheless let us fly -after it as though it were a Reality! Its path is one of sweetness more -than pain,—its ways are devious, yet even in sadness still entrancing. -Better than rank, better than wealth is this talisman, which with a -touch brings us into close communication with the Higher worlds. Let -us “imagine” our friends are true; let us “imagine” we are loved for -our own sakes alone,—let us “imagine,” as we welcome our acquaintances -into our homes, that their smiles and greetings are sincere—let us -imagine “imaginary” love as the poets do,—a passion tender, strong -and changeless—and pursue it always, even if the objects, which for a -moment its passing wings have brushed, crumble into dust beneath that -touch of fire! So shall our lives retain the charm of constant Youth -and Hope,—so shall the world seem always beautiful to us,—so shall -the Unimaginable glory of the future Real-in-Love shine nearer every -day in our faithful, fond pursuit of its flying Shadow!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE ADVANCE OF WOMAN</h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Follow Light and do the Right—for man can half control his doom—</div> -<div>Till you find the deathless Angel seated in the vacant tomb!</div> -<div class="i4">—<span class="smcap">Tennyson</span>, <i>Locksley Hall, Sixty Years After</i>.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Sixty years ago! To us of the present day it seems a very long time—a -kind of “dark ages” period wherein we peer backward dubiously, -wondering what everybody was like then. History, taking us by the hand, -shows us, as in a magic glass, the Coronation of Victoria, one of the -best Queens that the world has ever known, and tells us of the great -men and masterly intellects of that past time, whose immortal works we -still have with us, but whose mere mortal place knows them no more. -Much may be seen in the backward glimpse that some of us may possibly -regret and wish that we possessed again. Men of power and dominance, -for example—great writers, great thinkers, great reformers—surely we -lack these! Surely we need them sorely! But it seems to be a rule of -Nature that if we gain in one direction we must lose in another, and -whatever we have lost in that far-gone period, we have certainly gained -much in the forward direction. One of the most remarkable changes, -perhaps, that has taken place in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> passing of the years is the -different position assigned to Woman from that which she occupied when -Dickens and Thackeray wrote their wonderful novels, and when Charlotte -Brontë astonished the world by her woman’s genius, to be followed by -the still more powerful and Scott-like display of brainpower in Mary -Ann Evans (“George Eliot”). At that time men were still chivalrous. -Woman was so rarely brilliant—or, shall we put it, she so rarely had -the chance of asserting the brilliant qualities that are her natural -endowment—that man was content to acknowledge any unusual talent -on her part as an abnormal quality, infrequent enough to be safely -admired. In this spirit, more or less, Sir Walter Scott paid tribute -to Jane Austen, and Thackeray to Charlotte Brontë; but as time has -progressed, and women have arisen one after another in the various -departments of Art and Literature, men have begun to fall back and look -askance, and somewhat threateningly, on the fair trespassers in their -hitherto guarded domains. And the falling back and the looking askance -continue in exact proportion to the swift and steady onward march of -the white-robed Amazons into the Battle of Life. Braced with the golden -shield of Courage, helmeted with Patience, and armed with the sword of -Faith, the women-warriors are taking the field, and are to be seen now -in massed ranks, daily marshalling themselves in more compact order, -firm-footed and fearless, prepared to fight for intellectual freedom, -and die rather than yield. They, too, will earn the right to live; -they, too, will be something greater than the mere vessels of man’s -desire—whether maids, wives, or mothers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> they will prove themselves -worthy to be all these three, and more than these, to the very utmost -extent of their moral and intellectual being!</p> - -<p>Perhaps there is nothing more entertaining to the wit of a cultured and -intelligent woman than the recurrent piping wail of man’s assertion -that “woman has no creative power.” Her place, says the didactic -male, is the kitchen, the nursery, and beside the cradle. <i>Certes</i>, -she can manage these three departments infinitely better than he can, -especially the cradle part of it, wherein his fractious disposition -is generally well displayed the moment he starts in life. But, as a -matter of fact, there is hardly any vocation in which she cannot, -if she puts her mind to it, distinguish herself just as easily and -successfully as he can if he will only kindly stand out of her way. -He makes himself ludicrous by persistently “crying her down” when all -the world <i>en masse</i> beholds her taking the highest University honours -over his head, and beating him intellectually on his own ground. In -physical force he certainly outstrips her. Item,—he can kick her as -heartily and skilfully as he can kick a football, <i>vide</i> the daily -police reports. Item,—he can eat and drink much more than she can, -because he devotes a great deal more time and attention to the study -of gastronomy. Item,—he can smoke more. Item,—he can indulge freely -in unbridled licentiousness, and amply prove his original savage right -to be considered a polygamous animal, without being banned from “good -society,” or anything being said against his moral character. This -a woman cannot do. If she has many lovers, her conduct is severely -criticized. But if she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> has none, she is still more bitterly condemned, -especially if she happens to be in the least good-looking. And why? -Simply because her indifference “reflects” on the male sex generally. -The ugliest of masculine creatures experiences a vague sense of offence -when he meets a charming woman who neither seeks his advice nor his -company. And here we have the gist of the whole matter: man is a vain -animal and wants to be admired. Like the peacock, he struts forward -and spreads out his glittering tail. The central feature of the -landscape, as he considers himself, he waits for the pea-hen to worship -him. If, instead of the humble pea-hen, he finds another sort of bird -entirely—with not only a tail as brilliant as his own, but wings which -will carry it over his head, he is mightily incensed, and his shrill -cry of rage echoes through that particular part of the universe where -he is no longer “monarch of all he surveys.” His “other world” must be -pea-hens or none!</p> - -<p>And yet Man’s delightful and utter want of the commonest logic is never -more flagrantly exhibited than in this vital matter of his estimate -of Woman, taking it all round in a broad sense. Daily, hourly, in the -household and in the market-place, he may be heard cheapening her -abilities, sneering at such triumphs as she attains, cracking stale -jests at her “love of gossip,” “love of dress” (for he is seldom -original even in a joke), and her “incessant tongue,” blissfully -ignoring the fact that his own is wagging all the time; and yet no -one can twist him so limply and helplessly round the littlest of her -little fingers as she can. Moreover, throughout all the ages, so far as -the keenest explorer or historical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> student can discover, his highest -ideals of life have been depicted in the Feminine form. Fortune, Fame, -Justice, the Arts and Sciences, are all represented by female figures -lovingly designed by male hands. Evidently conscious in himself that -a woman’s purity, honesty, fidelity, and courage are nobler types of -these virtues than his own, Man apparently is never weary of idealizing -them as Woman womanly. Thoroughly aware of the supreme sovereignty -Woman can exercise whenever he gives her the chance, he, while -endeavouring to bind and hold her intellectual forces by his various -edicts and customs, takes ever an incongruous satisfaction in doing -her full justice by the magnitude of his feminine ideals. The divine -spirit of Nature itself, called “Egeria,” is always depicted by man as -a woman. Faith, Hope and Charity, are represented as female spirits, -as are the Three Graces. The Muses are women; so are the Fates. Hence, -as all the virtues, morals, arts, and sciences are shown by the -highest masculine skill as wearing woman’s form and possessing woman’s -attributes, it is easy to see that man has always been perfectly aware -in his inward intelligence of Woman’s true worth and right place in -creation, though, by such laws as he has made for his own better -convenience, he has put up whatever barriers he can in the way of the -too swift advancement of so superior and victorious a creature. Now -that she is beginning to take an important share in the world’s work -and progress, he is becoming vaguely alarmed. In each art, in each -profession he sees her gaining step by step to higher intellectual -dominance. He watches her move<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> from plane to plane of study, learning, -as she goes, that the mere animalism of unthinking subservience to his -passions is not her only heritage. And straightway the long-spoilt -child begins to whimper. “A woman has no creative power!” he cries. “No -imagination!—no originality!—no force of character! What she does in -the Arts is so very little——!”</p> - -<p>Stop, oh Man! You have had a very long, long innings, remember! From -the time of Abraham, and ages before that worthy patriarch ever turned -Hagar out into the wilderness, you have been setting Woman alongside -your cattle, and curling your whip with a magnificent carelessness -round both at your pleasure, yea! even offering both with indifferent -readiness for sale and barter. You have enjoyed centuries of liberty; -it is now woman’s turn to taste the sweets of freedom. She does very -little in the Arts, you say? I grant you that in the first of them, -Poetry, she does little indeed. I do not think we shall ever have a -female Shakespeare, for instance. But, at the same time, I equally do -not think we shall ever again have a male one! Yet it is to be admitted -that none of the leading women poets can compare for an instant with -the leading men in that most divine and primæval of Arts. But I should -not like to assert that the great woman-Dante or woman-Shelley may not -yet arise, for it is to be borne in mind that woman’s education and -woman’s chances have only just begun. In Music, again, she is deemed -deficient. Yet we are confronted at the present day by the fact that -many of the most successful and charming of song writers are women.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -And the following appears in the Dresden <i>Neueste Nachricten</i> (October -18, 1902):—</p> - -<p>“Up to the present date we have always entertained the opinion that -the composition of music was a gift denied to the female sex, elegant -trifles (as exceptions) only confirming our doubts. And now an English -lady appears on the scene, amazing the musical world of Dresden. She -was as a young girl already a distinguished artist, a virtuoso on -the piano, and played—as ‘Miss Bright,’—under the direction of Dr. -Wullner, a piano concerto of her own composition, with extraordinary -success. Then marriage separated her from her art for several years. -Now (after the death of her husband), the young widow, Mrs. Knatchbull, -has composed an opera—text, music, and instrumentation all being her -own work—and has brought it with her to Dresden. The music is so -captivating, and above all, holds one so strongly that one exclaims -in astonishment, ‘Can this be the work of a woman?’ It is more than -probable that the opera will be produced at the Dresden Opera House.”</p> - -<p>Here followeth an instructive story:—A recent opera performed with -considerable success at Monte Carlo and other Continental resorts -is the work of a woman, stolen by a man. The facts are well known, -as are the names of the hero and heroine of the sordid tragedy. A -little love-making on the part of the male composer, who could show -nothing of ability save the composition of a few amorous drawing-room -songs—a confiding trust on the part of the woman-genius, whose brain -was full of God-given melody—these were the motives of the drama. -She played the score of her opera<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> through to him—he listened with -admiration—with words of tender flattery, precious to her who was -weak enough to care for such a rascal; and then he took it away to be -“transcribed,” as he said, and set out for the orchestra. He loved -her, so the poor credulous soul thought!—and she trusted him—such -an old story! He copied her opera in his own manuscript—stole it, in -short, and left for the Continent, where he had it produced as his own -composition. Had she complained, the law would have gone against her. -She had no proof save that of her love. Before a grinning, jesting -court of law she would have had to publish the secret of her heart. -People would have shaken their heads and said, “Poor thing! A case -of self-delusion and hysteria!” He himself would have shaken his -dirty pate and said, “Poor soul! Mad—quite mad! Many women have had -their heads turned likewise for love of me!” So it chances that only -those “in the know” are aware of the story, and the man-Fraud is left -unmolested; but it is a curious and suggestive fact that he produces no -more operas.</p> - -<p>There is one thing that women generally, in the struggle for -intellectual free life, should always remember—one that they are -too often apt to forget—namely, that the Laws, as they at present -exist, are made <i>by</i> men, <i>for</i> men. There are no really stringent -laws for the protection of women’s interests except the Married -Woman’s Property Act, which is a great and needful boon. But take the -following instances of the eccentricities of English law, both of -which have come under my own knowledge as having occurred to personal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -friends. A certain foreign nobleman residing in England made a will -leaving all his fortune to his mistress. His legitimate children were -advised to dispute the will, as under the law of his native country -he could not dispossess his lawful heirs of their inheritance. He had -not naturalized himself at any time as a British subject, and the -plain proof of this was, that but a year before his death, he had -applied to the Government of his own country for permission to wear -a certain decoration, which permission was accorded him. The nature -of his application proved that he still considered himself a subject -of his own native land. The case came before an English judge, who -had apparently eaten some very indigestible matter for his luncheon. -With an apoplectic countenance and an injured demeanour, the learned -gentleman declined to go into any of the details of the case, and -administered “justice” by deciding the whole thing on “a question of -domicile”—namely, that as the man had lived in England twenty-five -years, he was, naturalized or unnaturalized, a British subject and -could make his will as he liked. The fortune was, therefore, handed -over to his mistress, and the legal wife and legitimately-born children -were left out in the cold! Another case is that of a lady, well-born -and well-educated, who married a man with a fortune of some twenty -thousand a year. After the expiration of about fifteen years, when she -had borne her husband three children, he suddenly took a fantastic -dislike to her, and an equally fantastic liking for a chorus girl. -He promptly sought a divorce. As there was no ground for divorce, -he failed to obtain it. He,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> therefore, adopted a course of action -emanating entirely from his own brilliant brain. Starting for a cruise -on board his yacht, in company with the bewildering chorus girl, -he left orders with his solicitor to have the whole of his house -dismantled of its furniture and “cleared.” This was promptly done, the -wife and children being left without so much as a bed to lie upon, or a -chair to sit upon. The unfortunate lady told her story to a court, and -applied for “maintenance.” This, of course, the recalcitrant husband -was forced to pay, but the sum was cut down to the smallest possible -amount, under the supervision of the blandly approving court, with the -result that this man’s wife, accustomed from her girlhood to every home -comfort and care, now lives with her children in a condition of genteel -penury more degrading than absolute poverty. <i>There is no remedy for -these things.</i> One welcomes heartily the idea of women lawyers, in -the hope that when their keen, quick brains learn to grasp the huge, -unwieldy, and complex machinery of the muddle called Legal Justice, -they may, perhaps, be able to effect some reforms on behalf of their -own sex. As matters at present stand, the unbridled and extravagant -licentiousness of men, and the consequent degradation of women, are -<i>protected</i> by law. Even a fraudulent financial concern is so guarded -by “legal” advice that it would take the lifetime’s earning of an -honest man to bring about any exposure. We want women-lawyers—Portias, -with quick brains, to see the way out of a difficulty into which men -plunge only to flounder more hopelessly. “Can the blind lead the blind? -Shall they not both fall into the ditch?” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> - -<p>In Medicine, women have made more than a decided mark of triumph. It -is almost impossible to over-estimate the priceless value of the work -done by women doctors and women surgeons in the harems of India and -Turkey, where the selfishness and jealousy of the Eastern sybarite -would give his women over to cruel agonies of disease and death, rather -than suffer them to be so much as looked upon by another of his own -sex. Yet, though perfectly conscious that Woman’s work in this branch -of science is day by day becoming more and more precious to suffering -humanity, we have quite recently been confronted by the spectacle of -a number of men deciding to resign their appointments at a certain -hospital, rather than suffer a woman to be nominated house-surgeon. -Her skill and efficiency were as great as theirs, and she had all the -qualifications necessary for the post; but no! sooner than honour a -woman’s ability, they preferred to resign. Comment on this incident -is needless, but it is one of the straws that show which way the wind -blows.</p> - -<p>Much excellent work is done, and remains yet to be done by women, as -inspectors of schools. They alone are really fitted for the task of -ascertaining the conditions under which children are made to study, -and they are not likely, while examining infant classes, to make such -ponderous statements as that passed by a certain male inspector, who, -according to an amusing story told me by Sir John Gorst, found the -babies (not above five years old) “deplorably deficient in mental -arithmetic!” It takes a man to deplore “lack of mental arithmetic” in -a baby. A woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> would never be capable of such weighty stupidity. -Perhaps it will be just as well to glance casually at the state of -things in this country respecting the education of mere infants, as -arranged by certain laws drawn up by men, laws in which women, who are -the mothers of the race, are not allowed to have a voice.</p> - -<p>1. The law <i>allows</i> them to enter at three years old, and <i>compels</i> -them to enter at five years old.</p> - -<p>2. Men inspectors constantly examine children of four years old -in arithmetic, and the “mental arithmetic of the baby class,” is -constantly mentioned in reports.</p> - -<p>3. Needlework is taught before five years old; two to three hours form -the staple instruction. Needlework injures the eyesight at such a -tender age, and two or three hours are a cruelty and a waste of time -for tiny children.</p> - -<p>4. Desks, blackboards, slates and books are everywhere in excess of -“Kindergarten” occupations, and the “development of the spontaneous -activity in the child” is twisted into the development of uniformity. -To differ from the usual is to be naughty; every one must do the same -thing at the same time. Every one must build a like house, a like -table, a like chair; each brick must be on the table at the same minute.</p> - -<p>5. Despite male inspectors, the babies sleep. They fall off their -seats and bump their foreheads against the desks, and their spines are -twisted and crooked as they lie on their arms, heads forward, upon the -hard supports. Curvature must be produced in many cases, solely from -these causes.</p> - -<p>6. To maintain order, corporal punishment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> is habitual, and “fear” -the chief motive for right-doing. To quote from a letter of Sir John -Gorst’s:—</p> - -<p>“The reform of this system is not a matter of sentiment. These babies -are the future scholars of our improved schools that the Education Act -is intended to produce, and the future citizens by whom our Imperial -position is to be maintained. If we prematurely addle their intellects -by schooling—for which their tender years are unfit; if we cripple -their bodies by cooping them up in deforming desks; if we destroy their -sight by premature needlework, and confuse their senses by over-study -of subjects which they are too young to understand, we shall neither -have fit scholars for our future schools, nor fit citizens to uphold -the Empire.”</p> - -<p>Starting on these premises it will surely be acknowledged that women -have an indisputable right to be inspectors of schools. They have the -natural instinct to know what is best for the health and well-being -of children, and they are also capable of correctly judging by that -maternal sympathy which is their inherited gift, how a child’s mental -abilities should best be encouraged and trained.</p> - -<p>I have often been asked if I would like to see women in Parliament. -I may say frankly, and at once, that I should detest it. I should -not like to see the sex, pre-eminent for grace and beauty, degraded -by having to witness or to take part in such “scenes” of heated and -undignified disputation as have frequently lowered the prestige of -the House of Commons. On the same lines I may say that I do not care -to see women playing “hockey” or indulging in any purely “tom-boy”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -sports and pastimes. They lose “caste” and individuality. One of the -many brilliant and original remarks of mankind concerning the female -sex is that women should be cooks and housekeepers. So they should. No -woman is a good housekeeper unless she understands cooking, nor can she -be a good cook unless she be a good housekeeper. The two things are -inseparable, and combine to make comfort with economy. A woman should -know how to cook and keep house for <i>herself</i>, not only for man. Man -says to her: “Be a cook,”—because of all things in the world he loves -a good dinner; loves it better than his wife, inasmuch as he will often -“bully” the wife if the dinner fails. But a woman must also eat, and -she should learn to cook <i>for her own comfort</i>, quite apart from his. -In the same way she should study housekeeping. If she lives a single -life, she will find such knowledge eminently useful. But to devote all -her energy and attention to cooking and housekeeping, as most men would -have her do, would be a waste of power and intelligence. As well ask a -great military hero to devote his entire time to the canteen.</p> - -<p>In breaking her rusty fetters, and stepping out into the glorious -liberty of the free, Woman has one great thing to remember and to -strive for,—a thing that she is at present, in her newly emancipated -condition, somewhat prone to forget. In claiming and securing -intellectual equality with Man, she should ever bear in mind that such -a position is only to be held by always maintaining and preserving as -great an Unlikeness to him as possible in her life and surroundings. -Let her imitate him in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> nothing but independence and individuality. Let -her eschew his fashions in dress, his talk and his manners. A woman who -wears “mannish” clothes, smokes cigars, rattles out slang, gambles at -cards, and drinks brandy and soda on the slightest provocation, is lost -altogether, both as woman and man, and becomes sexless. But the woman -whose dress is always becoming and graceful, whose voice is equable and -tender, who enhances whatever beauty she possesses by exquisite manner, -unblemished reputation, and intellectual capacity combined, raises -herself not only to an equality with man, but goes so far above him -that she straightway becomes the Goddess and he the Worshipper. This is -as it should be. Men adore what they cannot imitate. Therefore when men -are drunken, let women be sober; when men are licentious, let women be -chaste; when men are turf-hunters and card-players, let women absent -themselves from both the race-course and the gambling-table; and while -placing a gentle yet firm ban on laxity in morals and disregard of the -binding sanctity of family life, let them silently work on and make -progress in every art, every profession, every useful handicraft, that -they may not be dependent for home or livelihood on man’s merely casual -fancy or idle whim. The mistake of Woman’s progress up to the present, -has been her slavish imitation of Man’s often unadmirable tastes, and -a pathetic “going down” under his lofty disdain. Once grasp the fact -that his disdain is not “lofty” but merely comic, and that his case -is only that of the Distressful Peacock, hurt by indifference to his -tail, things will right themselves. Nature has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> already endowed Woman -with the contrasting elements of beauty, delicacy, and soft charm, as -opposed to man’s frequent ugliness and roughness; let Woman herself -continue to emphasize the difference by bringing out her original and -individual qualities in all she does or attempts to do. Of course -for a long time yet, Man will declare “feminine individuality” to be -non-existent; but as we know the quality is as plain and patent as -“masculine individuality,” we have only to insist upon it and assert -it, and in due course it will be fully admitted and acknowledged. -Meantime, while pressing on towards the desired goal, Woman must learn -the chief lesson of successful progress, which is, not to copy Man, but -to carefully preserve her beautiful Unlikeness to him in every possible -way, so that, while asserting and gaining intellectual equality with -him, she shall gradually arrive at such ascendancy as to prove herself -ever the finer and the nobler Creature.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE PALM OF BEAUTY</h2> - -<p>It would seem, according to the society press, that beauty is a -very common article. Indeed, if we are to accept the innocent -ebullitions of the callow youths who drink beer and play skittles -in the Social-Paragraph line of journalism, and who in their soft -guilelessness are taken in and “used” by certain ladies of a type -resembling Miss Skeggs and Lady Blarney in the <i>Vicar of Wakefield</i>, -we are bound to believe that beautiful women are as common as -blackberries, only more so. In the columns devoted by newspaper editors -to the meanderings of those intelligent persons, male and female, -who sign themselves as Onlookers, Observers, Butterflies, Little -Tomtits, and what may be called “I Spys!” generally, one hardly ever -sees the name of a lady without the epithet “beautiful” tacked on to -it, especially if the lady happens to have money. This is curious, -but true. And supposing the so-called Beautiful One has not only -money, commonly speaking, but heaps of money, mines of money, she is -always stated to be “young” as well. The heavier the bullion, the -more assured the youthfulness. If unkind Time shows her to be the -mother of a family where the eldest sprout is some twenty odd years -of age, the complaisant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> “I Spy” is equal to the occasion and writes -of her thus—“The beautiful Mrs. Juno-Athene brought her eldest -girl, looking more like her sister than her mother.” Whereat Mrs. -Juno-Athene is satisfied,—everybody smiles, and all things are cosy -and comfortable. If any one should dare to say, especially in print, -that Mrs. Juno-Athene is not “beautiful” at all, nor “youthful” in -either looks or bearing, there would be ructions. Somebody would get -into trouble. The “I Spy” might even be dismissed from his or her post -of social paragraphist to the Daily Error. Heaven forbid that such a -catastrophe should happen through the indiscretion of a mere miserable -truth-monger! Let Mrs. Juno-Athene be beautifully and eternally young, -by all means, so long as she can afford to pay for it. The humbug of it -is at any rate kindly and chivalrous, and does nobody any harm, while -it puts money in the purse of the hardworking penster, who is compelled -to deal delicately with these little social matters sometimes, or else -ruminate on a dinner instead of eating it.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, despite the “I Spys,” and the perennial charms of Mrs. -Juno-Athene, beauty is as rare and choice a thing as ever it was in the -days of old when men went mad for it, and Greeks and Trojans fought for -Helen, who, so some historians say, was past forty when her bewitching -fairness set the soul of Troy on fire. A really beautiful woman is -scarcely ever seen, not even in Great Britain, where average good looks -are pleasantly paramount. Prettiness,—the prettiness which is made -up of a good skin, bright eyes, soft and abundant hair, and a supple -figure,—is quite ordinary. It can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> be seen every day among barmaids, -shop girls, and milliners’ <i>mannequins</i>. But Beauty—the divine and -subtle charm which enraptures all beholders,—the perfect form, united -to the perfect face in which pure and noble thought is expressed in -every feature, in every glance of eye, in every smile that makes a -sweet mouth sweeter,—this is what we may search for through all the -Isles of Britain, ay, and through Europe and America and the whole -world besides, and seldom or never find it.</p> - -<p>Nine-tenths of the women who are styled “beautiful” by the society -paragraphist, possess merely the average good looks;—the rest are -generally more particularly distinguished by some single and special -trait which may perchance be natural, and may equally be artificial, -such as uncommon-coloured hair (which may be dyed), a brilliant -complexion (which may be put on), or a marvellously “svelte” figure -(which may be the happy result of carefully designed corsets, well -pulled in). Most of the eulogized “beauties” of the Upper Ten to-day, -have, or are able to get, sufficient money or credit supplied to -them for dressing well,—and not only well, but elaborately and -extravagantly, and dress is often the “beauty” instead of the woman. -To judge whether the woman herself is really beautiful without the -modiste’s assistance, it would be necessary to see her deprived of -all her fashionable clothes. Her bought hair should be taken off -and only the natural remainder left. She should be content to stand -<i>sans</i> paint, <i>sans</i> powder, <i>sans</i> back coil, <i>sans</i> corsets, in a -plain white gown, falling from her neck and shoulders to her feet, and -thus cheaply, yet decently clad, submit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> herself to the gaze of her -male flatterers in full daylight. How many of the “beautiful” Mrs. -Juno-Athenes or the “lovely” Lady Spendthrifts could stand such a test -unflinchingly? Yet the simplest draperies clothe the Greek marbles when -they are clothed at all, and jewels and fripperies on the goddess Diana -would make her grace seem vulgar and her perfection common. Beauty, -real beauty, needs no “creator of costume” to define it, but is, as the -poets say, when unadorned, adorned the most.</p> - -<p>Now it is absolutely impossible to meet with any “unadorned” sort -of beauty in those circles of rank and fashion where the society -paragraphist basks at his or her pleasure. On the contrary, there is -so much over-adornment in vogue that it is sometimes difficult to -find the actual true colour and personality of certain ladies whose -charms are daily eulogized by an obliging press. Layers of pearl enamel -picked out with rouge, entirely conceal their human identity. It is -doubtful whether there was ever more face-painting and “faking up” of -beauty than there is now,—never did beauty specialists and beauty -doctors drive such a roaring trade. The profits of beauty-faking are -enormous. Some idea of it may be gained by the fact that there is a -certain shrewd and highly intelligent “doctor” in Paris, who, seeing -which way the wind of fashion blows, brews a harmless little mixture of -rose-water, eau-de-cologne, tincture of benzoin and cochineal, which -materials are quite the reverse of costly, and calling it by a pretty -<i>sobriquet</i>, sells the same at twenty-five shillings a bottle! He is -making a fortune out of women’s stupidity, is this good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> “doctor,” and -who shall blame him? Fools exist merely that the wise may use them. -One has only to read the ladies’ papers, especially the advertisements -therein, to grasp a faint notion of what is being done to spur on the -“beauty” craze. Yet beauty remains as rare and remote as ever, and -often when we see some of the ladies whose “exquisite loveliness” -has been praised for years in nearly every newspaper on this, or the -other side of the Atlantic, we fall back dismayed, with a sense of the -deepest disappointment and aggravation, and wonder what we have done to -be so deceived?</p> - -<p>Taken in the majority, the women of Great Britain are supposed to -hold the palm of beauty against all other women of the nations of -the world, and if the word “beauty” be changed to prettiness, the -supposition is no doubt correct. It is somewhat unfortunate, however, -that either through the advice of their dressmakers or their own -erroneous conceptions of Form, they should appear to resent the soft -outlines and gracious curves of nature, for either by the over-excess -of their outdoor sports, or the undue compression of corsets, they are -gradually doing away with their originally intended shapes and becoming -as flat-chested as jockeys under training. No flat-chested woman is -pretty. No woman with large hands, large feet, and the coarse muscular -throat and jaw developed by constant bicycle-riding, can be called -fascinating. The bony and resolute lady whose lines of figure run -straight down without a curve anywhere from head to heel, may possibly -be a good athlete, but her looks are by no means to her advantage. -Men’s hearts are not enthralled or captured by a Something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> appearing -to be neither man nor woman. And there are a great many of these -Somethings about just now. I am ignorant as to whether American women -go in for mannish sports as frequently and ardently as their British -sisters, but I notice that they have daintier hands and feet, and less -pronounced “muscle.”</p> - -<p>At the same time American women on an average, are not so pretty -as British women on the same average. The American complexion is -unfortunate. Often radiant and delicate in earliest youth, it fades -with maturity like a brilliant flower scorched by too hot a sun, -and once departed returns no more. The clear complexion of British -women is their best feature. The natural rose and white skin of an -English, Irish or Scottish girl,—especially a girl born and bred in -the country, is wonderfully fresh and lovely and lasting, and often -accompanies her right through her life to old age. That is, of course, -if she leaves it alone, and is satisfied merely to keep it clean, -without any “adornment” from the beauty doctor. And, though steadily -withholding the divine word “beauty” from the greater portion of the -“beauties” at the Court of King Edward VII. it is unquestionably the -fact that the prettiest women in the world are the British. Americans -are likely to contest this. They will, as indeed in true chivalry they -must, declare that their own “beauties” are best. But one can only -speak from personal experience, and I am bound to say that I have never -seen a pretty American woman pretty enough to beat a pretty British -woman. This, with every possible admission made for the hard-working -society paragraphist,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> compelled to write of numerous “beautiful” -Ladies So-and-So, and “charming” Mrs. Cashboxes, who, when one comes to -look at them are neither “beautiful” nor “charming” at all.</p> - -<p>But British feminine prettiness would be infinitely more captivating -than it is, if it were associated with a little extra additional -touch of vivacity and intelligence. When it is put in the shade, (as -frequently happens,) by the sparkling allurements of the Viennese -coquette, the graceful <i>savoir faire</i> of the French <i>mondaine</i>, or -the enticing charm of lustrous-eyed sirens from southern Italy, it -is merely because of its lack of wit. It is a good thing to have a -pretty face; but if the face be only like a wax mask, moveless and -expressionless, it soon ceases to attract. The loveliest picture -would bore us if we had to stare at it dumbly all day. And there is -undeniably a stiffness, a formality, and often a most repellent and -unsympathetic coldness about the British fair sex, which re-acts upon -the men and women of other more warm-hearted and impulsive nations, -in a manner highly disadvantageous to the ladies of our Fortunate -Isles. For it is not <i>real</i> stiffness, or <i>real</i> formality after -all,—nor is it the snowy chill of a touch-me-not chastity, by any -means,—it is merely a most painful, and in many cases, most absurd -self-consciousness. British women are always more or less wondering -what their sister women are thinking about them. They can manage their -men all right; but they put on curious and unbecoming airs directly -other feminine influences than their own come into play. They invite -the comment of the opposite sex, but they dread the criticism of their -own. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> awkward girl who sits on the edge of a chair with her feet -scraping the carpet and her hands twiddling uneasily in her lap, is -awkward simply because she has, by some means or other, been made -self-conscious,—and because, in the excess of this self-consciousness -she stupidly imagines every one in the room must be staring at her. -The average London woman, dressed like a fashion-plate, who rustles -in at afternoon tea, with her card-case well in evidence, and her -face carefully set in proper “visiting lines,” offers herself up in -this way as a subject for the satirist, out of the same disfiguring -self-consciousness, which robs her entirely of the indifferent ease -and careless grace which should,—to quote the greatest of American -philosophers, Emerson,—cause her to “repel interference by a decided -and proud choice of influences,” and to “inspire every beholder with -something of her own nobleness.” She is probably not <i>naturally</i> -formal,—she is no doubt exceedingly constrained and uncomfortable -in her fashionable attire,—and one may take it for granted that -she would rather be herself than try to be a Something which is a -Nothing. But Custom and Convention are her bogie men, always guarding -her on either side, and investing her too often with such deplorable -self-consciousness that her eye becomes furtive, her mouth hard and -secretive, her conversation inane, and her whole personality an -uncomfortable exhalation of stupidity and dullness.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, setting Custom and Convention apart for the nonce, and -bidding them descend into the shadows of hypocrisy which are their -native atmosphere, the British woman remains the prettiest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> in the -world. What a galaxy of feminine charms can be gathered under the word -“British”! England, Ireland, Wales and Scotland offer all together such -countless examples of woman’s loveliness, that it would be difficult, -if not impossible, to give the prize for good looks to one portion of -Britain more than to the other. America, so far as her samples have -been, and are, seen in Europe, cannot outrival the “Old Country” in the -prettiness of its women. But it is prettiness only; not Beauty. Beauty -remains intrinsically where it was first born and first admitted into -the annals of Art and Literature. Its home is still in “the Isles of -Greece, where burning Sappho loved and sung.”</p> - -<p>Nothing that was ever created in the way of female loveliness can -surpass the beauty of a beautiful Greek woman. True, she is as rare as -a butterfly in a snow storm. True, the women of Athens and of Greece -generally, taken in the rough majority, are not on an average, even -pretty. Nevertheless the palm of beauty remains with them—because -there are always two,—or may be three of them, who dawn year by year -upon the world in all the old perfection of the classic models, and -who may truly be taken for newly-descended goddesses, so faultlessly -formed, so exquisitely featured are they. They are not famed by the -paragraphist, and they probably will never get the chance of moving in -the circles of the British “Upper Ten” or the American “Four Hundred.” -But they are the daughters of Aphrodite still, and hold fast their -heavenly mother’s attributes. It is easy to find a hundred or more -pretty British and American women for one beautiful Greek—but when -found, the beautiful Greek eclipses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> them all. She is still the wonder -of the world,—the crown of womanly beauty at its best. She shows the -heritage of her race in her regal step and freedom of movement,—in -the lovely curves of her figure, in the classic perfection of her face -with its broad brows, lustrous eyes, arched sweet lips and delicate -contour of chin and throat, and perhaps more than all in the queenly -indifference she bears towards her own loveliness. So,</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Fill high the bowl with Samian wine,</div> -<div class="i1">On Suli’s bank and Parga’s shore,</div> -<div>Exists the remnant of a line</div> -<div class="i1">Such as the Doric mothers bore;</div> -<div>And there perhaps some seed is sown</div> -<div>The Heracleidan blood might own!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>And there still, may be found the perfection of womanhood—the one rare -Greek lily, which blossoming at few and far intervals shows in its -exquisite form and colouring what Woman should be at her fairest. To -her, therefore, must be given the Palm of Beauty. But after the lily, -then the rose!—or rather the roses, multitudinous, varied, and always -sweet—of the Fortunate Isles of Britain.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE MADNESS OF CLOTHES</h2> - -<p>To dress well is a social duty. Every educated self-respecting woman -is bound to clothe her person as neatly, as tastefully and becomingly -as she can. But just as a virtue when carried to excess develops into -a vice, so the art of dressing well, when allowed to overstep its -legitimate uses and expenditure, easily runs into folly and madness. -The reckless extravagance of women’s dress at the present day is little -short of criminal insanity. A feverish desire to outvie one another in -the manner and make of their garments appears to possess every feminine -creature whose lot in life places her outside positive penury. The -inordinately wealthy, the normally rich, the well-to-do middle class -and the shabby genteel are all equally infected by the same hysterical -frenzy. And it is a frenzy which is humoured and encouraged on all -sides by those who should have the sense, the intelligence and the -foresight to realize the danger of such a tendency, and the misery to -which in many cases it is surely bound to lead.</p> - -<p>Latterly there have been certain growlings and mutterings of discontent -from husbands who have had to pay certain unexpectedly long bills for -their wives’ “creations in costume”—but, as a matter of fact, it is -really the men who are chiefly to blame for the wicked waste of money -they afterwards resent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> and deplore. They are the principal instigators -of the mischief,—the aiders and abettors of the destruction of their -own credit and good name. For they openly show their admiration for -women’s clothes more than for the women clothed,—that is to say, -they are more easily captured by art than by nature. No group of male -flatterers is ever seen round a woman whose dress is un-stylish or -otherwise “out-of-date.” She may have the sweetest face in the world, -the purest nature and the truest heart, but the “dressed” woman, the -dyed, the artistically “faked” woman will nearly always score a triumph -over her so far as masculine appreciation and attention are concerned.</p> - -<p>The “faked” woman has everything on her side. The Drama supports her. -The Press encourages her. Whole columns in seemingly sane journals are -devoted to the description of her attire. Very little space is given to -the actual criticism of a new play <i>as</i> a play, but any amount of room -is awarded to glorified “gushers” concerning the actresses’ gowns. Of -course it has to be borne in mind that the “writing up” of actresses’ -gowns serves a double purpose. First, the “creators” of the gowns are -advertised, and may in their turn advertise,—which in these days of -multitudinous rival newspapers, is a point not to be lost sight of. -Secondly, the actresses themselves are advertised and certain gentlemen -with big noses who move “behind the scenes,” and are the lineal -descendants of Moses and Aaron, may thereby be encouraged to speculate -in theatrical “shares.” Whereas criticism of the play itself does no -good to anybody nowadays, not even to the dramatic author. For if such -criticism be <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>unfavourable, the public say it is written by a spiteful -enemy,—if eulogistic, by a “friend at court,” and they accept neither -verdict. They go to see the thing for themselves, and if they like it -they keep on going. If not, they stay away, and there’s an end.</p> - -<p>But to the gowns there is no end. The gowns, even in an <i>un</i>-successful -play, are continuously talked of, continuously written about, -continuously sketched in every sort of pictorial, small and great, -fashionable or merely provincial. And the florid language,—or shall -we say the ‘fine writing’?—used to describe clothes generally, on and -off the stage, is so ravingly sentimental, so bewilderingly turgid, -that it can only compare with the fervid verbosity of the early -eighteenth century romancists, or the biting sarcasm of Thackeray’s -<i>Book of Snobs</i>, from which the following passage, descriptive of ‘Miss -Snobky’s’ presentation gown, may be aptly quoted:—</p> - -<p>“<i>Habit de Cour</i> composed of a yellow nankeen illusion dress, over a -slip of rich pea-green corduroy, trimmed <i>en tablier</i> with bouquets -of Brussels sprouts, the body and sleeves handsomely trimmed with -calimanco, and festooned with a pink train and white radishes. -Head-dress, carrots and lappets.”</p> - -<p>By way of a modern pendant to the above grotesque suggestion, one -extract from a lengthy “clothes” article recently published in a daily -paper will suffice:</p> - -<p>“Among the numerous evening and dinner gowns that the young lady has -in her <i>corbeille</i>, one, <i>a l’Impératrice Eugénie</i>, is very lovely. -The foundation is of white Liberty, with a tulle overdress on which -are four flounces of Chantilly lace arranged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> in zig-zags, connected -together with shaded pink <i>gloria</i> ribbons arranged in waves and -wreaths. This is repeated on the low corsage and on the long drooping -sleeves of the high bodice.</p> - -<p>“A richer toilette is of white Liberty silk, with a flounce of -magnificent Brussels lace festooned by leaves of the chestnut, formed -of white satin wrought in iris beads and silver on white tulle. The -whole gown is strewn with like leaves of graduating sizes, and the -low corsage has a <i>berthe</i> of Brussels lace ornamented with smaller -chestnut leaves as are also the sleeves.” And so on, in unlimited -bursts of enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>I cannot say I am in the least sorry when “modistes” who ‘create’ -costumes at forty, fifty and even one hundred and two hundred guineas -per gown, are mulcted of some of their unlawful profits by defaulting -creditors. In nine cases out of ten they richly deserve it. They are -rightly punished, when they accept, with fulsome flattery and servile -obsequiousness a “title” as sufficient guarantee for credit, and in -the end find out that Her Grace the Duchess, or Miladi the Countess is -perhaps more wickedly reckless and unprincipled than any plain Miss, or -Mrs. ever born, and that these <i>grandes dames</i> frequently make use of -both rank and position to cheat their tradespeople systematically. The -tradespeople are entirely to blame for trusting them, and this is daily -and continuously proved. But the touching crook-knee’d worship of mere -social rank still remains an ingredient of the mercantile nature,—it -is inborn and racial,—a kind of microbe in the blood generated there -in old feudal times, when, all over the world, pedlars humbly sought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -the patronage and favour of robber chieftains, and unloaded their packs -in the ‘Castle hall’ for the pleasure of the fair ladies who were -kept at home in “durance vile” by their rough, unwashen lords. And so -perhaps it has chanced through long custom and heritage, that at this -present day there is nothing quite so servile in all creation as the -spectacle of the ‘modiste’ in attendance on a Duchess, or a ‘ladies’ -tailor’ bending himself double while deferentially presuming to measure -the hips of a Princess. It is quaint,—it is pitiful,—it is intensely, -deliciously comic. And when the price of the garment is never clearly -stated, and the bill never sent in for years lest offence is given to -‘Her Grace’ or ‘Her Highness’—by firms that will, nevertheless, have -no scruple in sending dunning letters and legal threats to <i>un</i>-titled -ladies, who may possibly keep them waiting a little for their money, -but whose position and credit are more firmly established than those of -any ‘great’ personages with handles to their names, it is not without -a certain secret satisfaction that one hears of such fawning flunkeys -of trade getting well burnt in the fires of loss and disaster. For in -any case, it may be taken for granted that they always charge a double, -sometimes treble price for a garment or costume, over and above what -that garment or costume is really worth, and one may safely presume -they base all their calculations on possible loss. It is no uncommon -thing to be told that such and such an evening blouse or bodice copied -‘from the Paris model’ will cost Forty Guineas—“We <i>might</i> possibly do -it for Thirty Five,”—says the costumier meditatively, studying with -well-assumed gravity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> the small, flimsy object he is thus pricing, a -trifle made up of chiffon, ribbon, and tinsel gew-gaws, knowing all the -while that everything of which it is composed could be purchased for -much less than ten pounds. Twenty-five guineas, forty-five guineas, -sixty-five guineas are quite common prices for gowns at any of the -fashionable shops to-day. One cannot, of course, blame the modistes -and outfitting firms for asking these absurd fancy prices if they can -get them. If women are mad, it is perhaps wise, just, and reasonable -to take financial advantage of their madness while it lasts. Certainly -no woman of well-balanced brain would give unlimited prices for gowns -without most careful inquiry as to the correct value of the material -and trimming used for them,—and the feminine creature who runs into -the elaborate show-rooms of Madame Zoë or Berenice, or Faustina, and -orders frocks by the dozen, saying chirpingly: “Oh, yes! <i>You</i> know -how they ought to be made! Your taste is always perfect! Make them -<i>very</i> pretty, won’t you?—<i>much</i> prettier than those you made for Lady -Claribel! Yes!—thanks! I’ll leave it all in your hands!” this woman, I -say, is a mere lunatic, gibbering nonsense, who could not, if she were -asked, tell where twice two making four might possibly lead her in the -sum-total of a banking account.</p> - -<p>Not very long ago there was held a wonderful “symposium” of dress at -the establishment of a certain modiste. It was intensely diverting, -entertaining and instructive. A stage was erected at one end of a long -room, and on that stage, with effective flashes of lime-light played -from the “wings” at intervals, and the accompaniment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> of a Hungarian -band, young ladies wearing “creations” in costume, stood, sat, turned, -twisted and twirled, and finally walked down the room between rows -of spectators to show themselves and the gowns they carried, off to -the best possible advantage. The whole thing was much better than a -stage comedy. Nothing could surpass the quaint peacock-like vanity -of the girl <i>mannequins</i> who strutted up and down, moving their arms -about to exhibit their sleeves and swaying their hips to accentuate -the fall and flow of flounces and draperies. It was a marvellous sight -to behold, and it irresistibly reminded one of a party of impudent -children trying on for fun all their mother’s and elder sisters’ best -“long dresses” while the unsuspecting owners were out of the way. There -was a “programme” of the performance fearfully and wonderfully worded, -the composition, so we were afterwards “with bated breath” informed, -of Madame la Modiste’s sister, a lady, who by virtue of having written -two small skits on the manners, customs and modes of society, is, in -some obliging quarters of the Press called a “novelist.” This programme -instructed us as to the proper views we were expected to take of the -costumes paraded before us, as follows:</p> - -<blockquote><p class="center">FOR THE DINNER PARTY</p> - -<p>Topas<br />Elusive Joy<br /> -Pleasure’s Thrall<br />Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower</p></blockquote> - -<p>The “Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower” was a harmless-looking girl in a -bright scarlet toilette,—neither <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>the toilette nor the sensational -title suited her. But perhaps the “Cult of Chiffon” presented the most -varied and startling phases to a properly receptive mind. Thus it ran:</p> - -<blockquote><p class="center">THE CULT OF CHIFFON</p> - -<p>The Dirge O’er the Death of Pleasure<br />The Fire Motif<br /> -The Meaning of Life is Clear<br />Moss and Starlight<br />Incessant Soft Desire<br /> -A Frenzied Song of Amorous Things<br />A Summer Night Has a Thousand Powers</p></blockquote> - -<p>Faint gigglings shook the bosoms of the profane as the “Incessant Soft -Desire” glided into view, followed by “A Frenzied Song of Amorous -Things,”—indeed it would have been positively unnatural and inhuman -had no one laughed. Curious to relate, there were quite a large number -of “gentlemen” at this remarkable exhibition of feminine clothes, -many of them well known and easily recognizable. Certain <i>flaneurs</i> -of Bond Street, various loafers familiar to the Carlton “lounge,” and -celebrated Piccadilly-trotters, formed nearly one half of the audience, -and stared with easy insolence at the “Red Mouth of a Venomous Flower” -or smiled suggestively at “Incessant Soft Desire.” They were invited to -stare and smile, and they did it. But there was something remarkably -offensive in their way of doing it, and perhaps if a few thick boots -worn on the feet of rough but honest workmen had come into contact -with their smooth personalities on their way out of Madame Modiste’s -establishment, it might have done them good and taught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> them a useful -lesson. Needless to say that the prices of the Madame Modiste who could -set forth such an exhibition of melodramatically designated feminine -apparel as “The Night has a Thousand Eyes,” or “Spring’s Delirium,” -were in suitable proportion to a “frenzied song of amorous things.” -Such amorous things as are “created” in her establishment are likely to -make husbands and fathers know exactly what “a frenzied song” means. -When the payment of the bills is concerned, they will probably sing -that “frenzied song” themselves.</p> - -<p>It is quite easy to dress well and tastefully without -spending a very great deal of money. It certainly requires -brain—thought—foresight—taste—and comprehension of the harmony -of colours. But the blind following of a fashion because Madame This -or That says it is “chic” or “le dernier cri,” or some parrot-like -recommendation of the sort, is mere stupidity on the part of the -followers. To run up long credit for dresses, without the least idea -how the account is ever going to be paid, is nothing less than a -criminal act. It is simply fraud. And such fraud re-acts on the whole -community.</p> - -<p>Extravagant taste in dress is infectious. Most of us are impressed by -the King’s sensible and earnest desire that the Press should use its -influence for good in fostering amity between ourselves and foreign -countries. If the Press would equally use its efforts to discourage -florid descriptions of dress in their columns, much of the wild and -wilful extravagance which is frequently the ruin of otherwise happy -homes, might be avoided. When Lady A sees her loathëd rival Lady B’s -dress described in half a column of newspaper “gush” she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>straightway -yearns and schemes for a whole column of the same kind. When simple -country girls read the amazing items of the “toilettes” worn by some -notorious “demi-mondaine,” they begin to wonder how it is she has -such things, and to speculate as to whether they will ever be able -to obtain similar glorified apparel for themselves. And so the evil -grows, till by and by it becomes a pernicious disease, and women look -superciliously at one another, not for what they are, but merely -to estimate the quality and style of what they put on their backs. -Virtue goes to the wall if it does not wear a fashionable frock. -Vice is welcomed everywhere if it is clothed in a Paris “creation.” -Nevertheless, Ben Jonson’s lines still hold good:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Still to be neat, still to be drest,</div> -<div>As you were going to a feast;</div> -<div>Still to be powder’d, still perfumed:</div> -<div>Lady, it is to be presumed,</div> -<div>Though art’s hid causes are not found</div> -<div>All is not sweet, all is not sound.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>“All is not sweet, all is not sound,” when women think little or -nothing of ordering extravagant costumes which they well know they will -never be able to pay for, unless through some dishonourable means, such -as gambling at Bridge for example. Madame Modiste is quite prepared -for such an exigency, for she does not forget to show “creations” in -clothes which, she softly purrs, are “suitable for Bridge parties.” -They may possibly be called—“The Tricky Trump”—or “The Dazzling of -a Glance too long” or “The Deft Impress of a Finger nail”! One never -knows!</p> - -<p>Any amount of fashion papers find their way into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> the average British -household, containing rabid nonsense such as the following:</p> - -<p>“There were wonderful stories afloat about Miss B’s dresses. Rumour has -it that a dressmaker came over specially from New York to requisition -the services of the most important artistes in Paris, and gold lace and -hand embroidery were used with no frugal hand; yet, <i>despite this</i> and -the warm welcome accorded her by an English audience, Miss B does not -seem to have made up her mind to stay with us long, for it is said the -end of June will see the end of her season. We have sketched her in -her pink chiffon wrap, which is made in the Empire shape covered with -chiffon and decorated with bunches of chiffon flowers and green leaves -held with bows of pink satin—a most dainty affair, full of delicate -detail and pre-eminently becoming.”</p> - -<p>“Despite this,”—is rich indeed! Despite the fact that “gold lace and -hand-embroidery” were used “with no frugal hand,” Miss B is determined -to leave “the gay, the gay and glittering scene,” and deprive us of -her “pink chiffon wrap in the Empire shape”! A positively disastrous -conclusion! Nay, but hearken to the maudlin murmurs of the crazed -worshippers of Mumbo-Jumbo “Fashion”—</p> - -<p>“Do you yearn for a grey muslin dress? Half my ‘smart girl’ -acquaintances are buying grey muslins as though their lives depended -on it. I fell in love with one of them that was in bouilloné gathers -all round the skirt to within eight inches of the hem, while the -yoke had similar but smaller bouillonés run through, well below the -shoulder-line, with a wide chiné ribbon knotted low in front. Beneath -this encircling ribbon the bodice pouched in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> blouse fashion over a -chiné waist-ribbon to match, with long pendant ends one side; the -sleeves were a distinct novelty, being set in a number of small puffs -below one big one, a chiné ribbon being knotted around the arm between -each puff.”</p> - -<p>“Do you ‘yearn’ for a grey muslin dress?” O ye gods! One is reminded of -a comic passage in the “Artemus Ward” papers, where it is related how -a lady of the “Free Love” persuasion rushed at the American humorist, -brandishing a cotton umbrella and crying out: “Dost thou not yearn -for me?” to which adjuration Artemus replied, while he “dodged” the -umbrella—“Not a yearn!”</p> - -<p>“I should like,”—says one of the poor imbecile “dress” devotees, “the -skirt finished off with a wadded hem, or perhaps a few folds of satin, -but otherwise it should be left severely plain. These satin, brocade, -or velvet dresses should stand or fall by their own merits, and never -be over-elaborated.”</p> - -<p>True! And is it “a wadded hem” or a padded room that should “finish -off” these people who spread the madness of clothes far and wide till -it becomes a positively dangerous and immoral infection? One wonders! -For there is no more mischievous wickedness in society to-day than the -flamboyant, exuberant, wilful extravagance of women’s dress. It has far -exceeded the natural and pretty vanity of permissible charm, good taste -and elegance. It has become a riotous waste,—an ugly disease of moral -principle, ending at last in the disgrace and death of many a woman’s -good name.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE DECAY OF HOME LIFE IN ENGLAND</h2> - -<p>When people tell the truth they are generally disliked. From Socrates, -to the latest of his modern philosophic imitators, the bowl of -death-dealing hemlock has always been mixed by the world and held to -the lips of those who dare to say uncomfortably plain things. When -the late W. E. H. Lecky set down the truth of Cecil Rhodes, in his -book entitled <i>The Map of Life</i>, and I, the present writer, ventured -to quote the passage in “The Vulgarity of Wealth,” when that article -was first published, a number of uninformed individuals rashly accused -me of “abusing Cecil Rhodes.” They were naturally afraid to attack -the greater writer. Inasmuch, said they: “If Mr. Lecky had <i>really</i> -suggested that Cecil Rhodes was not, like Brutus, ‘an honourable man,’ -he, Mr. Lecky, would never have received the King’s new ‘Order of -Merit,’ nor would Mr. Rhodes have been the subject of so much eulogy. -For, of course, the King has read <i>The Map of Life</i>, and is aware of -the assertions contained in it.” Now I wish, dear gossips all, you -would read <i>The Map of Life</i> for yourselves! You will find, if you do, -not only plain facts concerning Rhodes, and the vulgarity, i.e. the -ostentation of wealth, but much useful information on sundry other -matters closely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> concerning various manners and customs of the present -day. For one example, consider the following:</p> - -<p>“The amount of pure and almost spontaneous malevolence in the world is -probably far greater than we at first imagine.... No one, for example, -can study the anonymous press, without perceiving how large a part of -it is employed <i>systematically</i>, <i>persistently</i> and <i>deliberately</i> in -fostering class, or individual or international hatreds, and often <i>in -circulating falsehoods to attain this end</i>. Many newspapers notoriously -depend for their existence on such appeals, and more than any other -instruments, they inflame and perpetuate those permanent animosities -which most endanger the peace of mankind. The fact that such newspapers -are becoming in many countries the main and almost exclusive reading of -the million, forms the most serious deduction from the value of modern -education.”</p> - -<p>Let it be noted, once and for all, that it is not the present writer -who thus speaks of “the anonymous press,” but the experienced, -brilliant and unprejudiced scholar who was among the first to hold the -King’s “Order of Merit.” And so once again to our muttons:—</p> - -<p>“Some of the very worst acts of which man can be guilty are acts which -are commonly untouched by law, and only faintly censured by opinion. -Political crimes, which a false and sickly sentiment so readily -condones, are conspicuous among them. Men who have been gambling for -wealth and power with the lives and fortunes of multitudes; men who -for their own personal ambition are prepared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> to sacrifice the most -vital interests of their country; men, who in time of great national -danger and excitement deliberately launch falsehood after falsehood -in the public press, in the well-founded conviction that they will do -their evil work before they can be contradicted, may be met shameless -and almost uncensured in Parliaments and drawing-rooms. The amount -of false statements in the world which cannot be attributed to mere -carelessness, inaccuracy or exaggeration, but which is plainly both -deliberate and malevolent, can hardly be overrated. Sometimes it is -due to a mere desire to create a lucrative sensation, or to gratify -a personal dislike, or even to an unprovoked malevolence which takes -pleasure in inflicting pain. * * * Very often it (i.e. the false -statement in the press) is intended for purposes of stock-jobbing. -The financial world is percolated with it. It is the common method -of raising or depreciating securities, attracting investors, preying -upon the ignorant and credulous, and enabling dishonest men to rise -rapidly to fortune. When the prospect of speedy wealth is in sight, -there are always numbers who are perfectly prepared to pursue courses -involving the utter ruin of multitudes, endangering the most serious -international interests, perhaps bringing down upon the world all the -calamities of war.... It is much to be questioned whether the greatest -criminals are to be found within the walls of prisons. Dishonesty on -a small scale nearly always finds its punishment. Dishonesty on a -gigantic scale continually escapes.... In the management of companies, -in the great fields of industrial enterprise and speculation, gigantic -fortunes are acquired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> by the ruin of multitudes; and by methods which -though they avoid legal penalties are essentially fraudulent. In the -majority of cases these crimes are perpetrated by educated men who are -in possession of all the necessaries, of most comforts, and of many -luxuries of life, and some of the worst of them are powerfully favoured -by the conditions of modern civilization. There is no greater scandal -or moral evil in our time than the readiness with which public opinion -excuses them, and the influence and social position it accords to mere -wealth, even when it has been acquired by notorious dishonesty, or when -it is expended with absolute selfishness or in ways that are absolutely -demoralising. In many respects the moral progress of mankind seems to -me incontestable, but it is extremely doubtful whether in this respect, -social morality, especially in England and America, has not seriously -retrograded.”</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * *</p> - -<p class="center">* * * *</p> - -<p class="center">* * *</p> - -<p class="center">* *</p> - -<p>Now had I written the foregoing lines, some hundred or so of -pleasant newspaper friends would have accused me of “screaming” out -a denunciation of wealth, or of “railing” against society. But as -Lecky,—with the King’s “Order of Merit,” appended to his distinguished -name,—was the real author of the quotation, I am not without hope -that his views may be judged worthy of consideration, even though his -works may not be as thoughtfully studied as their excellence merits. -It is not I—it was Mr. Lecky, who doubted whether “social<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> morality -both in England and America, had not seriously retrograded.” But, if -it has so retrograded, there need be very little difficulty in tracing -the retrogression to its direct source,—namely, to the carelessness, -vanity, extravagance, lack of high principle, and entire lapse of -dignity in the women who constitute and lead what is called the Smart -Set. These women cannot be termed as of the Aristocracy, for the -Aristocracy, (by which term I mean those who are lineally entitled -to be considered the actual British nobility, and not the mushroom -creations of yesterday), will, more often than not, decline to have -anything to do with them. True, there are some “great” ladies, who -have deliberately and voluntarily fallen from their high estate in -the sight of a scandalised public, and who, by birth and breeding, -should assuredly have possessed more pride and self-respect, than to -wilfully descend into the mire. But the very fact that these few have -so lamentably failed to support the responsibilities of their position, -makes it all the sadder for the many good and true women of noble -family who endeavour, as best they may, to stem the tide of harmful -circumstance, and to show by the retired simplicity and intellectual -charm of their own lives, that though society is fast becoming a -disordered wilderness of American and South African “scrub,” there yet -remains within it a flourishing scion of the brave old English Oak of -Honour, guarded by the plain device “Noblesse Oblige.”</p> - -<p>The influence of women bears perhaps more strongly than any other -power on the position and supremacy of a country. Corrupt women make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -a corrupt State,—noble, God-fearing women make a noble, God-fearing -people. It is not too much to say that the prosperity or adversity -of a nation rests in the hands of its women. They are the mothers of -the men,—they make and mould the characters of their sons. And the -centre of their influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, the -Home. Home is the pivot round which the wheel of a country’s highest -statesmanship should revolve,—the preservation of Home, its interests, -its duties and principles, should be the aim of every good citizen. But -with the “retrogression of social morality,” as Mr. Lecky phrased it, -and as part and parcel of that backward action and movement, has gone -the gradual decay of home life, and a growing indifference to home as -a centre of attraction and influence, together with the undermining -of family ties and affections, which, rightly used and considered, -should form the strongest bulwark to our national strength. The love -of home,—the desire to <i>make</i> a home,—is far stronger in the poorer -classes nowadays than in the wealthy or even the moderately rich of the -general community. Women of the “upper ten” are no longer pre-eminent -as rulers of the home, but are to be seen daily and nightly as noisy -and pushing frequenters of public restaurants. The great lady is -seldom or never to be found “at home” on her own domain,—but she may -be easily met at the Carlton, Prince’s, or the Berkeley (on Sundays). -The old-world châtelaine of a great house who took pride in looking -after the comfort of all her retainers,—who displayed an active -interest in every detail of management,—surrounding herself with -choice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> furniture, fine pictures, sweet linen, beautiful flowers, and -home delicates of her own personal make or supervision, is becoming -well-nigh obsolete. “It is such a bore being at home!” is quite an -ordinary phrase with the gawk-girl of the present day, who has no idea -of the value of rest as an aid to beauty, or of the healthful and -strengthening influences of a quiet and well-cultivated mind, and who -has made herself what is sometimes casually termed a “sight” by her -skill at hockey, her speed in cycling, and her general “rushing about,” -in order to get anywhere away from the detested “home.” The mother of -a family now aspires to seem as young as her daughters, and among the -vanishing graces of society may be noted the grace of old age. Nobody -is old nowadays. Men of sixty wed girls of sixteen, women of fifty lead -boys of twenty to the sacrificial altar. Such things are repulsive, -abominable and unnatural, but they are done every day, and a certain -“social set,” smirk the usual conventional hypocritical approval, few -having the courage to protest against what they must inwardly recognize -as both outrageous and indecent. The real “old” lady, the real “old” -gentleman will soon be counted among the “rare and curious” specimens -of the race. The mother who was <i>not</i> “married at sixteen,” will ere -long be a remarkable prodigy, and the paterfamilias who never explains -that he “made an unfortunate marriage when quite a boy,” will rank -beside her as a companion phenomenon. We have only to scan the pages of -those periodicals which cater specially for fashionable folk, to see -what a frantic dread of age pervades all classes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> of pleasure-loving -society. The innumerable nostrums for removing wrinkles, massaging or -“steaming” the complexion, the “coverings” for thin hair, the “rays,” -of gold or copper or auburn, which are cunningly contrived for grey, -or to use the more polite word, “faded,” tresses, the great army of -manicurists, masseurs and “beauty-specialists,” who, in the most -clever way, manage to make comfortable incomes out of the general -panic which apparently prevails among their patrons at the inflexible, -unstoppable march of Time,—all these things are striking proofs of -the constant desperate fight kept up by a large and foolish majority -against the laws of God and of Nature. Nor is the category confined to -persons of admittedly weak intellect, as might readily be imagined, -for just as the sapient Mr. Andrew Lang has almost been convicted -of a hesitating faith in magic crystals, (God save him!) so are the -names of many men, eminent in scholarship and politics, “down on the -list” of the dyer, the steamer, the padder, the muscle-improver, the -nail-polisher, the wrinkle-remover, and the eye-embellisher. Which -facts, though apparently trivial, are so many brief hints of a “giving” -in the masculine stamina. “It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of -gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman.” Vide <i>Hamlet</i>. Such it -may be,—let us hope that such it is.</p> - -<p>No doubt much of this fantastic dread of “looking old,” arises from the -fact that nowadays age, instead of receiving the honour it merits, is -frequently made the butt of ignorant and vulgar ridicule. One exception -alone is allowed in the case of our gracious Queen Alexandra, who -supports<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> her years with so much ease and scarcely diminished beauty. -But there are hosts of other women beside the Queen whom it would -seem that “age cannot wither,”—Sarah Bernhardt, for example, whose -brilliant vitality is the envy of all her feminine compeers; while -many leading “beauties” who never scored a success in their teens, -are now trampling triumphantly over men’s hearts in their forties. -Nevertheless the boorish sections of the Press and of society take a -special delight, (Mr. Lecky calls it “pure malevolence,”) in making -the advance of age a subject for coarse jesting, whereas if rightly -viewed, the decline of the body is merely the natural withering of -that chrysalis which contains the ever young and immortal Soul. Forced -asunder by the strength of unfolding wings, the chrysalis <i>must</i> break; -and its breaking should not cause regret, but joy. Of course if faith -in God is a mere dead letter, and poor humanity is taught to consider -this brief life as our sole beginning and end, I can quite imagine that -the advance of years may be looked upon with dislike and fear,—though -scarcely with ridicule. But for the happy beings who are conscious that -while the body grows weaker, the Soul grows stronger,—who feel that -behind this mere passing “reflection” of Life, the real Life awaits -them, age has no drawbacks and no forebodings of evil. The prevailing -dread of it, and the universal fighting against it, betoken an insecure -and wholly materialistic mental attitude.</p> - -<p>Of the feminine indulgence in complexion cures, combined with the -deplorable lack of common sense, which shows itself in the constant -consultation of palmists and clairvoyants, while home and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> family -duties are completely neglected or forgotten, the less said the better. -By such conduct women appear to be voluntarily straying back to the -dark ages when people believed in witches and soothsayers, and would -pay five shillings or more to see the faces of their future husbands -in the village well. Happy the man who, at the crucial moment, looked -over the shoulder of the enquiring maiden! He was sure to be accepted -on the value of his own mirrored reflection, apart altogether from -his possible personal merits. To this day in Devonshire, many young -women believe in the demoniacal abilities of a harmless old gentleman -who leads a retired life on the moors, and who is supposed to be able -to “do something to somebody.” It would be a hard task to explain -the real meaning of this somewhat vague phrase, but the following -solution can be safely given without any harm accruing. It works -out in this way: If you know “somebody,” who is unpleasant to you, -go to this old gentleman and give him five shillings, and he will -“do something”—never mind what. It may be safely prophesied that -he will spend the five shillings; the rest is involved in mystery. -Now, however silly this superstition on the part of poor Devonshire -maids may be, it is not a whit more so than the behaviour of the -so-called “cultured” woman of fashion who spends a couple of guineas -in one of the rooms or “salons,” near Bond Street, on the fraudulent -rascal of a “palmist,” or “crystal-gazer,” who has the impudence -and presumption to pretend to know her past and her future. It is a -wonder that the women who patronize these professional cheats have -not more self-respect than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to enter such dens, where the crime of -“obtaining money on false pretences” is daily practised without -the intervention of the law. But all the mischief starts from the -same source,—neglect of home, indifference to home duties, and the -constant “gadding-about” which seems to be the principal delight and -aim of women who are amply supplied with the means of subsistence, -either through inherited fortune, or through marriage with a wealthy -partner, and who consider themselves totally exempt from the divine -necessity of Work. Yet these are truly the very ones whose duty it is -to work the hardest, because “Unto whom much is given even from him -(or her) shall much be required.” No woman who has a home need ever -be idle. If she employs her time properly, she will find no leisure -for gossiping, scandal-mongering, moping, grumbling, “fadding,” -fortune-telling or crystal-gazing. Of course, if she “manages” her -household merely through a paid housekeeper, she cannot be said to -govern the establishment at all. The housekeeper is the real mistress, -and very soon secures such a position of authority, that the lady who -employs and pays her scarcely dare give an order without her. Speaking -on this subject a few days ago with a distinguished and mild-tempered -gentleman, who has long ceased to expect any comfort or pleasure in -the magnificent house his wealth pays for, but which under its present -government might as well be a hotel where he is sometimes allowed -to take the head of the table, he said to me, with an air of quiet -resignation:—“Ladies have so many more interests nowadays than in my -father’s time. They do so many things. It is really <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>bewildering! My -wife, for example, is always out. She has so many engagements. She has -scarcely five minutes to herself, and is often quite knocked up with -fatigue and excitement. She has no time to attend to housekeeping, -and of course the children are almost entirely with their nurse -and governess.” This description applies to most households of a -fashionable or “smart” character, and shows what a topsy-turveydom of -the laws of Nature is allowed to pass muster, and to even meet with -general approval. The “wife” of whom my honourable and distinguished -friend spoke to me, rises languidly from her bed at eleven, and -occupies all her time till two o’clock in dressing, manicuring, -“transforming” and “massaging.” She also receives and sends a few -telegrams. At two o’clock she goes out in her carriage and lunches with -some chosen intimates at one or other of the fashionable restaurants. -Lunch over, she returns home and lies down for an hour. Then she arrays -herself in an elaborate tea gown and receives a favoured few in her -boudoir, where over a cup of tea she assists to tear into piecemeal -portions the characters of her dearest friends. Another “rest” and -again the business of the toilette is resumed. When <i>en grande tenue</i> -she either goes out to dinner, or entertains a large party of guests at -her own table. A <i>tête-à-tête</i> meal with her husband would appear to -her in the light of a positive calamity. She stays up playing “Bridge” -till two or three o’clock in the morning, and retires to bed more or -less exhausted, and can only sleep with the aid of narcotics. She -resumes the same useless existence, and perpetrates the same wicked -waste of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> time again the next day and every day. Her children she -scarcely sees, and the management of her house is entirely removed from -her hands. The housekeeper takes all the accounts to her husband, who -meekly pays the same, and lives for the most part at his club, or at -the houses of his various sporting friends. “Home” is for him a mere -farce. He knew what it was in his mother’s day, when his grand old -historical seat was a home indeed, and all the members of the family, -young and old, looked upon it as the chief centre of attraction, and -the garnering-point of love and faith and confidence; but since he -grew up to manhood, and took for his life-partner a rapid lady of the -new Motor-School of Morals, he stands like Marius among the ruins of -Carthage, contemplating the complete wreckage of his ship of life, and -knowing sadly enough that he can never sail the seas of hope again.</p> - -<p>The word “Home” has, or used to have, a very sacred meaning, and -is peculiarly British. The French have no such term. “Chez-moi” -or “chez-soi” are poor substitutes, and indeed none of the Latin -races appear to have any expression which properly conveys the real -sentiment. The Germans have it, and their “Heimweh” is as significant -as our “home-sickness.” The Germans are essentially a home-loving -people, and this may be said of all Teutonic, Norse and Scandinavian -races. By far the strongest blood of the British is inherited from the -North,—and as a rule the natural tendency in the pure Briton is one -of scorn for the changeful, vagrant, idle, careless and semi-pagan -temperament of southern nations. As the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> last of our real Laureates -sang in his own matchless way:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Oh, tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each</div> -<div>That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,</div> -<div>And dark and true and tender is the North!</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div>Oh, tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown;</div> -<div>Say that I do but wanton in the South,</div> -<div>But in the North, long since, my nest is made!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>“My nest is made,” is the ultimatum of the lover,—the “nest” or the -home being the natural centre of the circle of man’s ambition. A happy -home is the best and surest safeguard against all evil; and where home -is not happy, there the devil may freely enter and find his hands -full. With women, and women only, this happiness in the home must find -its foundation. They only are responsible; for no matter how wild and -erring a man may be, if he can always rely on finding somewhere in -the world a peaceful, well-ordered, and <i>undishonoured</i> home, he will -feel the saving grace of it sooner or later, and turn to it as the one -bright beacon in a darkening wilderness. But if he knows that it is a -mere hostelry,—that his wife has no pride in it,—that other men than -himself have found the right to enter there,—that his servants mock -him behind his back as a poor, weak, credulous fool, who has lost all -claim to mastership or control, he grows to hate the very walls of -the dwelling, and does his best to lose himself and his miseries in a -whirlpool of dissipation and folly, which too often ends in premature -breakdown and death.</p> - -<p>One often wonders if the “smart” ladies who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> cast aside the quiet -joys of home life, in exchange for a jostling “feed” at the Carlton -or other similar resorts, have any idea of the opinion entertained of -their conduct by that Great Majority, the People? The People,—without -whom their favoured political candidates would stand no chance of -election,—the People, without whose willing work, performed under -the heavy strain of cruel and increasing competition, they would be -unable to enjoy the costly luxuries they deem indispensable to their -lives,—the People, who, standing in their millions outside “society” -and its endless intrigues,—outside a complaisant or subsidized -Press,—outside all, save God and the Right,—pass judgment on the -events of the day, and entertain their own strong views thereon, which, -though such views may not find any printed outlet, do nevertheless -make themselves felt in various unmistakable ways. Latterly, there has -been a great clamour about servants and the lack of them. It is quite -true that many ladies find it difficult to secure servants, and that -even when they do secure them, they often turn out badly, being of an -untrained and incompetent class. But why is this? No doubt many causes -work together to make up the sum of deficiency or inefficiency, but -one reason can be given which is possibly entirely unsuspected. It is -a reason which will no doubt astonish some, and awaken the tittering -ridicule of many, but the fact remains unalterable, despite incredulity -and denial. There is really no lack of competent domestic servants. -On the contrary, there are plenty of respectable, willing, smart, -well-instructed girls in the country, who would make what are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> called -“treasures” in the way of housemaids, parlourmaids and lady’s-maids, -but whose parents stubbornly refuse to let them enter any situation -until they know something of the character of the mistress with whom -they are expected to reside, and the general reputation of the house -or “home” they are to enter. I could name dozens of cases where girls, -on enquiry, have actually declined lucrative situations, and contented -themselves with work at lower wages, rather than be known as “in -service” with certain distinguished ladies. “My girl,” says a farmer’s -wife, “is a clean, wholesome, steady lass; I’d rather keep her by me -for a bit than see her mixing herself up with the fashionable folk, -who are always getting into the divorce court.” This may be a bitter -pill of information for the “smart set” to swallow; but there is no -exaggeration in the statement that the working classes have very little -respect left nowadays for the ladies of the “Upper Ten,” and many of -the wives of honest farmers, mechanics and tradesmen would consider -that they were voluntarily handing over their daughters to temptation -and disgrace by allowing them to enter domestic service with certain -society leaders, who, though bearing well-known names, are branded by -equally well-known “easy virtue.”</p> - -<p>Does any one at this time of day recall a certain chapter in the -immortal story of <i>Bleak House</i>, by Charles Dickens, when Mr. -Rouncewell, the iron-master, a mere tradesman in the opinion of that -haughty old aristocrat, Sir Leicester Dedlock, desires to remove the -pretty girl, Rosa, lady’s-maid to Lady Dedlock, at once from her -situation, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> she is to marry his son? An extract from this scene may -not here be altogether out of place.</p> - -<p>Lady Dedlock has enquired of the iron-master if the love-affair between -her lady’s-maid and his son is still going on, and receives an answer -in the affirmative.</p> - -<blockquote><p>“‘If you remember anything so unimportant,’ he says—‘which is not -to be expected—you would recollect that my first thought in the -affair was directly opposed to her remaining here.’</p> - -<p>“Dismiss the Dedlock patronage from consideration? Oh! Sir -Leicester is bound to believe a pair of ears that have been -handed down to him through such a family, or he really might have -mistrusted their report of the iron-gentleman’s observation!</p> - -<p>“‘It is not necessary,’ observes my Lady, in her coldest manner, -before he can do anything but breathe amazedly, ‘to enter into -these matters on either side. The girl is a very good girl; I -have nothing whatever to say against her; but she is so far -insensible to her many advantages and her good fortune, that she -is in love—or supposes she is, poor little fool—and unable to -appreciate them.’</p> - -<p>“Sir Leicester begs to observe that wholly alters the case. He -might have been sure that my Lady had the best grounds and reasons -in support of her view. He entirely agrees with my Lady. The young -woman had better go.</p> - -<p>“‘As Sir Leicester observed, Mr. Rouncewell, on the last -occasion when we were fatigued by this business,’ Lady Dedlock -languidly proceeds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> ‘we cannot make conditions with you. Without -conditions, and under present circumstances, the girl is quite -misplaced here and had better go. I have told her so. Would you -wish to have her sent back to the village, or would you like to -take her with you, or what would you prefer?’</p> - -<p>“‘Lady Dedlock, if I may speak plainly——’</p> - -<p>“‘By all means.’</p> - -<p>“‘I should prefer the course which will the sooner relieve you of -the encumbrance, <i>and remove her from her present position</i>.’</p> - -<p>“‘And to speak as plainly,’ she returns, with the same studied -carelessness, ‘so should I. Do I understand that you will take her -with you?’</p> - -<p>“The iron-gentleman makes an iron bow.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * *</p> - -<p>“‘Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock,’ says Mr. Rouncewell, after a -pause of a few moments; ‘I beg to take my leave with an apology -for having again troubled you. I can very well understand, I -assure you, how very tiresome so small a matter must have become -to Lady Dedlock. If I am doubtful on my dealing with it, it is -only <i>because I did not at first quietly exert my influence to -take my young friend here away</i> without troubling you at all. -I hope you will excuse my want of acquaintance with the polite -world.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>As a matter of fact, certain rumours against Lady Dedlock’s reputation, -and hints as to her “past,” have come to the ears of the honest -tradesman, and he prefers to remove his son’s betrothed wife from the -contact of a possible pernicious <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>influence. The very same thing is -done scores of times over in many similar cases to-day.</p> - -<p>No one knows the real character and disposition of the mistress of a -home better than the servants she employs, and if she is honoured and -loved by her domestics, she stands on surer ground than the praise or -flattery of her fashionable friends. It is all a question of “home” -again. A real home is a home to all connected with it. The very -kitchen-maid employed in it, the boy who runs errands for the house; -indeed every servant, from the lowest to the highest, should feel that -their surroundings are truly “homelike,”—that things are well-ordered, -peaceful and happy; that the presiding spirit of the place, the -mistress, is contented with her life, and cheerfully interested in -the welfare of all around her,—then “all things work together for -good,” and the house becomes a bulwark against adversity, a harbour -in storm, a “nest” indeed, where warmth, repose, and mutual trust and -help make the days sweet and the nights calm. But where the mistress -is scarcely ever at home,—when she prefers public restaurants to her -own dining-room,—when with each change of the seasons she is gadding -about somewhere, and avoiding home as much as possible, how is it to be -expected that even servants will care to stay with her, or ever learn -to admire and respect her? Peace and happiness are hers to possess in -the natural and God-given ways of home life, if she chooses,—but if -she turns aside from her real sovereignty, throws down her sceptre and -plays with the sticks and straws of the “half-world,” she has only -herself to blame if the end should prove but dire confusion and the -bitterness of strife. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> - -<p>Apart altogether from the individual dignity and self-poise which are -invariably lacking to the “vagrant,” or home despising human being, -the decay of home life in England is a serious menace to the Empire’s -future strength. If our coming race of men have been accustomed to see -their mothers indulging in a kind of high-class public house feasting, -combined with public house morals, and have learned from them an -absolute indifference to home and home ties, they in their turn will do -likewise and live as “vagrants,”—here, there and everywhere, rather -than as well-established, self-respecting citizens and patriots, proud -of their country, and proud of the right to defend their homes. Even as -it is, there are not wanting signs of a general “wandering,” tendency, -combined with morbid apathy and sickly inertia. “One place is as good -as another,” says one section of society, and “anything is better than -the English climate,” says another, preparing to pack off to Egypt or -the Riviera at the first snap of winter. These opinions are an exact -reversion of those expressed by our sturdy, patriotic forefathers, -who made the glory of Great Britain. “There is no place like England” -was their sworn conviction, and “no place like home” was the essence -of their national sentiment. The English climate, too, was quite good -enough for them, and they made the best of it. When will the “Smart -Set” grasp the fact that the much-abused weather, whatever it may be, -is pretty much the same all over Europe? The Riviera is no warmer than -the Cornish coast, but <i>certes</i> it is better provided with hotels, -and—chiefest attraction of all—it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> has a Gambling Hell. The delights -of Monte Carlo and “Home,” are as far apart as the poles; and those -who seek the one cannot be expected to appreciate the other. But such -English women as are met at the foreign gambling-tables, season after -season, may be looked upon as the deliberate destroyers of all that is -best and strongest in our national life, in the sanctity of Home, and -the beauty of home affections. The English Home used to be a model to -the world;—with a few more scandalous divorce cases in high life, it -will become a by-word for the mockery of nations. The following from -the current Press is sufficiently instructive:</p> - -<blockquote><p>“The crowd of well-dressed women who daily throng the court during -the hearing of the ... case and follow with such intense eagerness -every incident in the dissection of a woman’s honour afford a -remarkable object-lesson in contemporary social progress.</p> - -<p>“Ladies, richly garbed, who drive up in smart broughams, -emblazoned carriages, and motor-cars, and are representative of -the best known families in the land, fight and scramble for a -seat, criticize the proceedings in a low monotone, and, without -the smallest indication of a blush, balance every point made by -counsel, and follow with keen apprehension the most suggestive -evidence.</p> - -<p>“Others, no less intensely interested in the sordid details of -divorce, come on foot—women of the great well-to-do middle-class, -who have all their lives had the advantage of refined and -educated surroundings. Some are old, with silvery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> hair; others -are middle-aged women, who bring comely daughters still in their -teens; others are in the first flush of womanhood; but they all -crowd into the narrow court and struggle to get a glimpse of the -chief actors in the drama, and listen to the testimony which would -convict them of dishonour.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>No one in their sober senses will call any of these women fit to -rule their homes, or to be examples to their children. Unblushingly -indecent, and unspeakably vulgar, their brazen effrontery and shameless -interest in the revolting details of a revolting case, have shown them -to be beyond the pale of all true womanhood, and utterly unfit to be -the mothers of our future men, or guardians of the honour of home and -family. There is no “railing” against society in this assertion; the -plain facts speak for themselves.</p> - -<p>The charm of home depends, of course, entirely on the upbringing -and character of the inmates. Stupid and illiterate people make a -dull fireside. Morbid faddists, always talking and thinking about -themselves, put the fire out altogether. If I were asked my opinion as -to the chief talent or gift for making a home happy, I should without -a moment’s hesitation, reply, “Cheerfulness.” A cheerful spirit, -always looking on the bright side, and determined to make the best of -everything, is the choicest blessing and the brightest charm of home. -People with a turn for grumbling should certainly live in hotels and -dine at restaurants. They will never understand how to make, or to -keep, a home as it should be. But, given a cheerful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> equable, and -active temperament, there is nothing sweeter, happier or safer for -the human being than Home, and the life which centres within it, and -the duties concerning it which demand our attention and care. There -is no need for women to wander far afield for an outlet to their -energies. Their work waits for them at their own doors, in the town -or village where they reside. No end of useful, kind and neighbourly -things are to hand for their doing,—every day can be filled, like -a basket of flowers, full of good deeds and gentle words by every -woman, poor or rich, who has either cottage or mansion which she can -truly call “Home.” Home is a simple background, against which the star -of womanhood shines brightest and best. The modern “gad-about” who -suggests a composition of female chimpanzee and fashionable “Johnny” -combined, is a kind of sexless creature for whom “Home” would only be a -cage in the general menagerie. She (or It) would merely occupy the time -in scrambling about from perch to perch, screaming on the slightest -provocation, and snapping at such other similar neuter creatures who -chanced to possess longer or more bushy tails. And it is a pity such -an example should be thought worthy of imitation by any woman claiming -to possess the advantage of human reason. But the Chimpanzee type of -female is just now singularly <i>en evidence</i>, having a habit of pushing -to the front on all occasions, and performing such strange antics as -call for public protest, and keep the grinding machinery of the law -only too busy. The Press, too, pays an enormous amount of unnecessary -attention to the performances of these more or less immodest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> animals, -so that it sometimes seems to our Continental neighbours as if we, as -a nation, had no real women left, but only chimpanzees. There are, -however, slight stirrings of a movement among the true “ladies” of -England, those who stand more or less aloof from the “smart set,”—a -movement indicative of “drawing the line somewhere.” It is possible -that there may yet be a revival of “Home” and its various lost graces -and dignities. We may even hear of doors that will not open to -millionaires simply <i>because</i> they are millionaires. Only the other day -a very great lady said to her sister in my hearing: “No, I shall not -‘present’ my two girls at all. Society is perfectly demoralised, and -I would rather the children remained out of it, so far as London is -concerned. They are much happier in the country than in town, and much -healthier, and I want to keep them so. Besides, they love their home!”</p> - -<p>Herein is the saving grace of life,—to love one’s home. Love of home -implies lovable people dwelling in the charmed circle,—tender hearts, -quick to respond to every word of love, every whisper of confidence, -every caress. The homeless man is the restless and unhappy man, for -ever seeking what he cannot find. The homeless woman is still more to -be pitied, being entirely and hopelessly out of her natural element. -And the marked tendency which exists nowadays to avoid home life is -wholly mischievous. Women complain that home is “dull,” “quiet,” -“monotonous,” “lonely,” and blame it for all sorts of evils which exist -only in themselves. If a woman cannot be a few hours alone without -finding her house “dull,” her mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> must be on the verge of lunacy. -The sense of being unable to endure one’s own company augurs ill for -the moral equilibrium. To preserve good health and sound nerves, -women should always make it a rule to be quite alone at least for a -couple of hours in the course of each day. Let them take that space -to think, to read, to rest, and mentally review their own thoughts, -words and actions in the light of a quiet conscience-time of pause and -meditation. Home is the best place so to rest and meditate,—and the -hours that are spent in thinking how to make that home happier will -never be wasted. It should be very seriously borne in mind that it is -only in the home life that marriage can be proved successful or the -reverse, and, to quote Mr. Lecky once more:</p> - -<blockquote><p>“A moral basis of sterling qualities is of capital importance. A -true, honest and trustworthy nature, capable of self-sacrifice and -self-restraint, should rank in the first line, and after that, a -kindly, equable and contented temper, a power of sympathy, a habit -of looking at the better and brighter side of men and things. Of -intellectual qualities, judgment, tact and order, are perhaps the -most valuable.... Grace and the charm of manner will retain their -full attraction to the last. They brighten in innumerable ways -the little things of life, and life is mainly made up of little -things, exposed to petty frictions, and requiring small decisions -and small sacrifices. Wide interests and large appreciations -are in the marriage relation more important than any great -constructive or creative talent, and the power to soothe, to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>sympathize, to counsel and to endure than the highest qualities -of the hero or the saint. It is by this alone that the married -life attains its full perfection.”</p></blockquote> - -<p>And when we hear, as we so often do, of the complete failure and -deplorable disaster attending many marriages, let us look for the -root of the evil at its foundation,—namely the decay of home life, -the neglect and avoidance of home and home duties,—the indifference -to, or scorn of home influence. For whenever any woman, rich or poor, -high in rank or of humble estate, throws these aside, and turns her -back on Home, her own natural, beautiful and thrice-blessed sphere of -action, she performs what would be called the crazed act of a queen, -who, called to highest sovereignty, casts away her crown, breaks her -sceptre, tramples on her royal robes, and steps from her throne, -<i>down</i>;—down into the dust of a saddened world’s contempt.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> - -<h2>SOCIETY AND SUNDAY</h2> - -<p>According to the latest views publicly expressed by both Christian and -un-Christian clerics, it would appear that twentieth-century Society is -not at one with Sunday. It no longer keeps the seventh day “holy.” It -will not go to church. It declines to listen to dull sermons delivered -by dull preachers. It openly expresses its general contempt for the -collection-plate. It reads its ‘up-to-date’ books and magazines, and -says: “The Sabbath is a Jewish institution. And though the spirit of -the Jew pervades my whole composition and constitution, and though -I borrow money of the Jew whenever I find it convenient, there is -no reason why I should follow the Jew’s religious ritual. The New -Testament lays no stress whatever upon the necessity of keeping the -seventh day holy. On the contrary, it tells us that ‘the Sabbath was -made for man, not man for the Sabbath.’”</p> - -<p>This is true enough. It is a difficult point to get over. And despite -the fact that the sovereign rulers of the realm most strictly set the -example to all their subjects of attending Divine service at least once -on Sunday, this example is just the very one among the various leading -patterns of life offered by the King and Queen which Society blandly -sets aside with a smile. For, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>notwithstanding the constant painstaking -production of exquisitely printed Prayer-books, elegantly bound in -ivory, silver, morocco leather, and silk velvet, Society is not often -seen nowadays with these little emblems of piety in its be-ringed and -be-bangled hands. It prefers a pack of cards. Its ears are more attuned -to the hissing rush of the motor than to the solemn sound of sacred -psalmody; and the dust of the high-road, compounded with the oil-stench -of the newest and fastest automobile, offers a more grateful odour -to its nostrils than the perfume of virginal lilies on the altar of -worship. <i>Autres temps, autres mœurs!</i> People who believe in nothing -have no need of prayer. A social “set” that grabs all it can for itself -without a thank-you to either God or devil is not moved to praise. Self -and the Hour! That is the motto and watchword of Society to-day, and -after Self and the Hour, what then? Why, the Deluge, of course! And, -as happened in olden time, and will happen again, general drowning, -stiflement, and silence.</p> - -<p>There is certainly much to regret and deplore in the lack of -serious thought, the neglect of piety, and the scant reverence for -sacred things which, taken together, make up a spirit of callous -indifferentism in our modern life, such as is likely to rob the nation -in future of its backbone and nerve. It is a spirit which is gradually -transforming the social community from thinking, feeling, reasonable -human beings into a mere set of gambolling kangaroos, whose chief -interest would seem to be centred in jumping over each other’s backs, -or sitting on their haunches, grinning foolishly and waving their short -fore-paws at one another with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> antic gestures of animal delight. They -never get any “forrader,” as it were. They do nothing particularly -useful. They are amused, annoyed, excited, or angry (according to their -different qualities of kangaroo nature) when one jumps a little higher -than the other, or waves its paws a little more attractively; but -their sentiments are as temporary as their passions. There is nothing -to be got out of them any way, but the jumping and the paw-waving. At -the same time it is extremely doubtful as to whether taking them to -church on Sundays would do them good, or bring them back to the human -condition. Things are too far gone—the metamorphosis is too nearly -accomplished. One day is the same as another to the Society kangaroo. -All days are suitable to his or her “hop, skip, and a jump.” But shall -there be no “worship”? What should a kangaroo worship? No “rest”? Why -should a kangaroo rest? “Listen to the Reverend Mr. Soulcure’s sermon, -and learn how to be good!” Ya-ah! One can hear the animal scream as he -or she turns a somersault at the mere suggestion and scuttles away!</p> - -<p>Society’s neglect of Sunday observance in these early days of the -new century is due to many things, chiefest among these being the -incapacity of the clergy to inspire interest in their hearers or to -fix the attention of the general public. It is unfortunate that this -should be so, but so it is. The ministers of religion fail to seize the -problems of the time. They forget, or wilfully ignore, the discoveries -of the age. Yet in these could be found endless subject-matter for the -divinest arguments.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> Religion and science, viewed broadly, do not clash -so much as they combine. To the devout and deeply studious mind, the -marvels of science are the truths of religion made manifest. But this -is what the clergy seem to miss persistently out of all their teaching -and preaching. Take, for example, the text: “In My Father’s house there -are many mansions.” What a noble discourse could be made hereon of -some of the most sublime facts of science!—of the powers of the air, -of the currents of light, of the magnificent movements of the stars in -their courses, of the plenitude and glory of innumerable solar systems, -all upheld and guided by the same Intelligent Force which equally -upholds and guides the destinies of man! Unhappily for the world in -general, and for the churches in particular, preachers who select -texts from Scripture in order to extract therefrom some instructive -lesson that shall be salutary for their congregations, do not always -remember the symbolic or allegorical manner in which such texts were -originally spoken or written. To many of them the “literal” meaning is -alone apparent, and they see in the “many mansions” merely a glorified -Park Lane or Piccadilly, adorned with rows of elegantly commonplace -dwelling-houses built of solid gold. Their conceptions of the “Father’s -house” are sadly limited. They cannot shake off the material from the -spiritual, or get away from themselves sufficiently to understand or -enter into the dumb craving of all human nature for help, for sympathy, -for love—for sureness in its conceptions of God—such sureness as -shall not run counter to the proved results of reason. For reason is -as much the gift<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> of God as speech, and to kill one’s intellectual -aspiration in order, as some bigots would advise, to serve God more -completely is the rankest blasphemy. The wilful refusal to use a great -gift merely insults the Giver.</p> - -<p>It is by obstinately declining to watch the branching-out, as it -were, of the great tree of Christianity in forms which are not narrow -or limited, but spacious and far-reaching, that the clergy have in -a great measure lost much that they should have retained. Society -has slipped altogether from their hold. Society sees for itself that -too many clerics are either blatant or timorous. Some of them bully; -others crawl. Some are all softness to the wealthy; all harshness to -the poor. Others, again, devote themselves to the poor entirely, and -neglect the wealthy, who are quite as much, if not more, in need of -a “soul cure” as the most forlorn Lazarus that ever lay in the dust -of the road of life. None of them seem able to cope with the great -dark wave of infidelity and atheism which has swept over the modern -world stealthily, but overwhelmingly, sucking many a struggling soul -down into the depths of suicidal despair. And Society, making up its -mind that it is neither edified nor entertained by going to church on -Sunday, stays away, and turns Sunday generally to other uses. It is -not particular as to what these uses are, provided they prove amusing. -The old-fashioned notion of a “day of rest” or a “good” Sunday can be -set aside with the church and the clergyman; the one desirable object -of existence is “not to be bored.” The spectre of “boredom” is always -gliding in at every modern function, like the ghost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> of Banquo at -Macbeth’s feast. To pacify and quash this terrible bogie is the chief -aim and end of all the social kangaroos. The Sunday’s observance used -to be the bogie’s great “innings”; but, with an advance in manners and -morals, <i>nous avons changé tout cela</i>! And Society spends its Sundays -now in a fashion which, if its great-grandmamma of the early Victorian -era could only see its ways and doings, would so shock the dear, -virtuous old lady that she would yearn to whip it and shut it up in a -room for years on bread and water. And there is no doubt that such a -wholesome régime would do it a power of good!</p> - -<p>At the present interesting period of English history, Sunday appears -to be devoutly recognized among the Upper Ten as the great “bridge” -day. It is quite the fashion—the “swagger” thing—to play bridge -all and every Sunday, when and whenever possible. During the London -“season,” the Thames serves as a picturesque setting for many of these -seventh-day revelries. Little gambling-parties are organized “up the -river,” and houses are taken from Saturday to Monday by noted ladies of -the half-world, desirous of “rooking” young men, in the sweet seclusion -of their “country cots by the flowing stream”—an ambition fully -realized in the results of the Sunday’s steady play at bridge from noon -till midnight. At a certain military centre not far from London, too, -the Sunday “gaming” might possibly call for comment. It is privately -carried on, of course, but—tell it not in Gath!—there is an officer’s -wife—there are so many officers’ wives!—but this one in particular, -more than the others,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> moves me to the presumption of a parody on the -Immortal Bard, thus:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>An officer’s wife had play-cards in her lap—</div> -<div>And dealt and dealt. “What tricks!” quoth I!</div> -<div>“They’re tricks, you bet!” the smiling cheat replied—</div> -<div>“My husband is ‘on duty’ gone,</div> -<div>And ‘green’ young subalterns are all my game,</div> -<div>And till they’re drained of gold and silver, too,</div> -<div>I’ll do, I’ll do, I’ll do!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>And she does “do.” She has found out the way to make those “green young -subalterns” pay her bills and ruin themselves. It is a thoroughly -up-to-date manner of spending the Sunday.</p> - -<p>Country-house “week-end” parties are generally all bridge-parties. -They are all carefully selected, with an eye to the main chance. The -“play” generally begins on Saturday evening, and goes on all through -Sunday up to midnight. One woman, notorious for her insensate love of -gambling, lately took lessons in “cheating” at bridge before joining -her country-house friends. She came away heavier in purse by five -hundred pounds, but of that five hundred, one hundred and fifty had -been won from a foolish little girl of eighteen, known to be the -daughter of a very wealthy, but strict father. When the poor child -was made to understand the extent of her losses at bridge, she was -afraid to go home. So she purchased some laudanum “for the toothache,” -and tried to poison herself by swallowing it. Fortunately, she was -rescued before it was too late, and her Spartan “dad,” with tears of -joy in his eyes, paid the money she had lost at cards thankfully, as -a kind of ransom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> to Death. But she was never again allowed to visit -at that “swagger” house where she had been “rooked” so unmercifully. -And when we remember how fond Society is of bragging of its little -philanthropies, its “bazaars” and carefully-calculated “charities,” we -may, perhaps, wonder whether, among the list of good and noble deeds -it declares itself capable of, it would set its face against bridge, -and make “gambling-parties” once for all unfashionable and in “bad -form”? This would be true philanthropy, and would be more productive -of good than any amount of regular church attendance. For there is no -doubt that very general sympathy is accorded to people who find that -going to church is rather an irksome business. It is not as if they -were often taught anything wonderfully inspiring or helpful there. They -seldom have even the satisfaction of hearing the service read properly. -The majority of the clergy are innocent of all elocutionary art. They -read the finest passages of Scripture in the sing-song tone of a clerk -detailing the items of a bill. It is a soothing style, and quickly -induces sleep; but that is its only recommendation.</p> - -<p>When not playing bridge, Society’s “Sunday observance” is motoring. -Flashing and fizzling all over the place, it rushes here, there, and -everywhere, creating infinite dust, smelling abominably, and looking -uglier than the worst demons in Dante’s “Inferno.” Beauty certainly -goes to the wall in a motor. The hideous masks, goggles, and caps -which help to make up the woman motorist’s driving gear, are enough -to scare the staunchest believer in the eternal attractiveness of the -fair sex, while the general get-up of the men is on a par<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> with that of -the professional stoker or engine-driver. Nevertheless, no reasonable -woman ought to mind other women looking ugly if they like; while men, -of course, are always men, and “masters of the planet,” whether dirty -or clean. And no one should really object to the “motor craze,” seeing -that it takes so many useless people out of one’s immediate horizon -and scatters them far and wide over the surface of the earth. Society -uses Sunday as a special day for this “scattering,” and perhaps it -is doing itself no very great harm. It is getting fresh air, which -it needs; it is “going the pace,” which, in its fevered condition of -living fast, so as to die more quickly, is natural to it; and it is -seeing persons and places it never saw before in the way of country -nooks and old-fashioned roadside inns, and rustic people, who stare at -it with unfeigned amusement, and wonder “what the world’s a’-comin’ -to!” Possibly it learns more in a motor drive through the heart of -rural England than many sermons in church could teach it. The only -thing one would venture to suggest is that in passing its Sundays in -this fashion, Society should respect the Sundays of those who still -elect to keep the seventh day as a day of rest. Fashionable motorists -might avoid dashing recklessly through groups of country people who -are peacefully wending their way to and from church. They might “slow -down.” They might take thoughtful heed of the little children who play -unguardedly about in many a village street. They might have some little -consideration for the uncertain steps of feeble and old persons who -are perchance blind or deaf, and who neither see the “motor”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> nor hear -the warning blast of its discordant horn. In brief, it would not hurt -Society to spend its Sundays with more thought for others than Itself. -For the bulk and mass of the British people—the people who <i>are</i> -Great Britain—still adhere to the sacred and blessed institution of a -“day of rest,” even if it be not a day of sermons. To thousands upon -thousands of toiling men and women, Sunday is still a veritable God’s -day, and we may thank God for it! Nay, more; we should do our very -best to keep it as “holy” as we can, if not by listening to sermons, -at least by a pause in our worldly concerns, wherein we may put a stop -on the wheels of work and consider within ourselves as to how and why -we are working. Sunday is a day when we should ask Nature to speak to -us and teach us such things as may only be mastered in silence and -solitude—when the book of poems, the beautiful prose idyll, or the -tender romance, may be our companion in summer under the trees, or -in winter by a bright fire—and when we may stand, as it were, for a -moment and take breath on the threshold of another week, bracing our -energies to meet with whatever that week may hold in store for us, -whether joy or sorrow. Few nations, however, view Sunday in this light. -On the Continent it has long been a day of mere frivolous pleasure—and -in America I know not what it is, never having experienced it. But the -British Sunday, apart from all the mockery and innuendo heaped upon it -by the wits and satirists of the present time and of bygone years, used -to be a strong and spiritually saving force in the national existence. -Dinner-parties, with a string band in attendance, and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> Parisian -singer of the “café chantant” to entertain the company afterwards, were -once unknown in England on a Sunday. But such “Sabbath” entertainments -are quite ordinary now. The private house copies the public -restaurant—more’s the pity!</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, though Society’s Sunday has degenerated into a day of -gambling, guzzling, and motoring in Great Britain, it is well to -remember that Society in itself is so limited as to be a mere bubble -on the waters of life—froth and scum, as it were, that rises to the -top, merely to be skimmed off and thrown aside in any serious national -crisis. The People are the life and blood of the nation, and to them -Sunday remains still a “day of rest,” though, perhaps, not so much as -in old time a day of religion. And that it is not so much a day of -religion is because so many preachers have failed in their mission. -They have lost grip. There is no cause whatever for their so losing it, -save such as lies within themselves. There has been no diminution in -the outflow of truth from the sources of Divine instruction, but rather -an increase. The wonders of the universe have been unfolded in every -direction by the Creator to His creature. There is everything for the -minister of God to say. Yet how little is said! “Feed my sheep!” was -the command of the Master. But the sheep have cropped all the old ways -of thought down to the bare ground, and their inefficient shepherds -now know not where to lead them, though their Lord’s command is as -imperative as ever. So the flock, being hungry, have broken down the -fences of tradition, and are scampering away in disorder to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> fresh -fields and pastures new. Society may be, and is, undoubtedly to blame -for its lax manner of treating religion and religious observances; but, -with all its faults, it is not so blameworthy as those teachers of the -Christian faith, whose lack of attention to its needs and perplexities -help to make it the heaven-scorning, God-denying, heart-sore, weary, -and always dissatisfied thing it is. Society’s Sunday is merely a -reflex of Society’s own immediate mood—the mood of killing time at all -costs, even to the degradation of its own honour, for want of something -better to do!</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE “STRONG” BOOK OF THE ISHBOSHETH</h2> - -<p>There are two trite sayings in common use with us all—one is: -“Circumstances alter cases,” which is English; the other is: “Autres -temps, autres mœurs,” which is French. But there lacks any similar -epigrammatic expression to convey the complete and curious change of -meaning, which by a certain occult literary process becomes gradually -attached to quite ordinary words of our daily speech. “Strong,” for -instance, used to mean strength. It means it still, I believe, in the -gymnasium. But in very choice literary circles it means “unclean.” -This is strange, but true. For some time past the gentle and credulous -public has remained in childlike doubt as to what was really implied -by a “strong” book. The gentle and credulous public has been under the -impression that the word “strong” used by the guides, philosophers, and -friends who review current fiction in the daily Press, meant a powerful -style, a vigorous grip, a brilliant way of telling a captivating and -noble story. But they have, by slow and painful degrees, found out -their mistake in this direction, and they know now that a “strong” -book means a nasty subject <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>indelicately treated. Whereupon they are -beginning to “sheer off” any book labelled by the inner critical -faculty as “strong.” This must be admitted as a most unfortunate -fact for those who are bending all their energies upon the writing -of “strong” books, and who are wasting their powers on discussing -what they euphoniously term “delicate and burning subjects”; but it -is a hopeful and blessed sign of increasing education and widening -intellectual perception in the masses, who will soon by their sturdy -common sense win a position which is not to be “frighted with false -fire.” Congratulating the proprietors of <i>Great Thoughts</i> on its -thousandth number, the sapient <i>Westminster Gazette</i> lately chortled -forth the following lines: “A career such as our contemporary has -enjoyed, shows that the taste for good reading is wider than some -would have us believe. We wish <i>Great Thoughts</i> continued success.” -O wise judge! O learned judge! The public taste for good reading is -only questioned when writers whom Thou dislikest are read by the base -million!</p> - -<p>“Art,” says a certain M.A., “if it be genuine and sincere, tends ever -to the lofty and the beautiful. There is no rule of art more important -than the sense of modesty. Vice grows not a little by immodesty of -thought.” True. And immodesty of thought fulfils its mission in the -“strong” book, which alone succeeds in winning the applause of that -“Exclusive Set of Degenerates” known as the E.S.D. under the Masonic -Scriptural sign of <span class="smcap">Ishbosheth</span> (laying particular emphasis on -the syllable between the “Ish” and the “eth,”) who manage to obtain -temporary posts on the ever-changeful <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>twirling treadmill of the daily -press. The Ishbosheth singular is the man who praises the “strong” -book—the Ishbosheth in the plural are the Exclusive Set who are sworn -to put down Virtue and extol Vice. Hence the “strong” cult, also the -“virile.” This last excellent and expressive word has become seriously -maltreated in the hands of the Ishbosheth, and is now made answerable -for many sins which it did not originally represent. “Virile” is from -the Latin <i>virilis</i>, a male—virility is the state and characteristic -of the adult male. Applied to certain books, however, by the Ishbosheth -it will be found by the discerning public to mean coarse—rough—with -a literary “style” obtained by sprinkling several pages of prose with -the lowest tavern-oaths, together with the name of God, pronounced -“Gawd.” Anything written in that fashion is at once pronounced “virile” -and commands wide admiration from the Ishbosheth, particularly if it -should be a story in which women are depicted at the lowest kickable -depth of drab-ism to which men can drag them, while men are represented -as the suffering victims of their wickedness. This peculiar kind of -turncoat morality was, according to Genesis, instituted by Adam in -his cowardly utterance: “The woman tempted me,” as an excuse for his -own base greed; and it has apparently continued to sprout forth in -various of his descendants ever since that time, especially in the -community of the Ishbosheth. “Virility,” therefore, being the state and -characteristic of the adult male, or the adult Adam, means, according -to the Ishbosheth, men’s proper scorn for the sex of their mothers, and -an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> egotistical delight in themselves, united to a barbarous rejoicing -in bad language and abandoned morals. It does not mean this in decent -every-day life, of course; but it does in books—such books as are -praised by the Ishbosheth.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want one of your ‘strong’ books,” said a customer at one of -the circulating libraries the other day. “Give me something I can read -to my wife without being ashamed.” This puts the case in a nutshell. -No clean-minded man can read the modern “strong” book praised by the -Ishbosheth and feel quite safe, or even quite manly in his wife’s -presence. He will find himself before he knows it mumbling something -about the gross and fleshly temptations of a deformed gentleman with -short legs; or he will grow hot-faced and awkward over the narrative -of a betrayed milkmaid who enters into all the precise details of her -wrongs with a more than pernicious gusto. It is true that he will -probably chance upon no worse or more revolting circumstances of human -life than are dished up for the general Improvement of Public Morals in -our halfpenny dailies; but he will realize, if he be a man of sense, -that whereas the divorce court and police cases in the newspaper are -very soon forgotten, the impression of a “strong” book, particularly if -the “strong” parts are elaborately and excruciatingly insisted upon, -lasts, and sometimes leaves tracks of indelible mischief on minds -which, but for its loathsome influence, would have remained upright -and innocent. Thought creates action. An idea is the mainspring of an -epoch. Therefore the corrupters of thought are responsible for corrupt -deeds in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> individual or a nation. From a noble thought—from a -selfless pure ideal—what great actions spring! Herein should the -responsibility of Literature be realized. The Ishbosheth, with their -“strong” books, have their criminal part in the visible putrescence -of a certain section of society known as the “swagger set.” Perhaps -no more forcible illustration of the repulsion exercised by nature -itself to spiritual and literary disease could be furnished than by -the death of the French “realist” Zola. Capable of fine artistic work, -he prostituted his powers to the lowest grade of thought. From the -dust-hole of the frail world’s ignorance and crime he selected his -olla-podrida of dirty scrapings, potato-peelings, candle-ends, rank -fat, and cabbage water, and set them all to seethe in the fire of -his brain, till they emitted noxious poison, and suffocating vapours -calculated to choke the channels of every aspiring mind and idealistic -soul. Nature revenged herself upon him by permitting him to be likewise -asphyxiated—only in the most prosy and “realistic” manner. It was one -of those terribly grim jests which she is fond of playing off on those -who blaspheme her sacred altars. A certain literary aspirant hovering -on the verge of the circle of the Ishbosheth, complained the other day -of a great omission in the biography of one of his dead comrades of the -pen. “They should have mentioned,” he said, “that he allowed his body -to <i>swarm with vermin</i>!” This is true Ishbosheth art. Suppress the fact -that the dead man had good in him, that he might have been famous had -he lived, that he had some notably strong points in his character, but -<i>don’t</i> forget,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> for Heaven’s sake, to mention the “vermin”! For the -Ishbosheth “cult” see nothing in a sunset, but much in a flea.</p> - -<p>Hence when we read the criticism of a “strong” book, over the signature -of one of the Ishbosheth, we know what to expect. All the bad, low, -villainous and soiled side of sickly or insane human nature will be in -it, and nothing of the healthful or sound. For, to be vicious is to -be ill—to commit crime is to be mentally deformed—and the “strong” -book of the Ishbosheth only deals with phases of sickness and lunacy. -There are other “strong” books in the world, thank Heaven—strong -books which treat strongly of noble examples of human life, love -and endeavour—books like those of Scott and Dickens and Brontë and -Eliot—books which make the world all the better for reading them. But -they are not books admired of the Ishbosheth. And as the Ishbosheth -have their centres in the current press, they are not praised in the -newspapers. Binding as the union of the Printers is all over the -world, I suppose they cannot take arms against the Ishbosheth and -decline to print anything under this Masonic sign? If they could, -what a purification there would be—what a clean, refreshing world -of books—and perhaps of men and women! No more vicious heroes with -short legs; no more painfully-injured milkmaids; no more “twins,” -earthly or heavenly—while possibly a new <i>Villette</i> might bud and -blossom forth—another <i>Fortunes of Nigel</i>, another brilliant <i>Vanity -Fair</i>—and books which contain wit without nastiness, tenderness -without erotics, simplicity without affectation, and good English -without slang, might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> once again give glory to literature. But this -millennium will not be till the “strong” book of the Ishbosheth ceases -to find a publisher, and the Ishbosheth themselves are seen in their -true colours, and fully recognized by the public to be no more than -they are—a mere group of low sensualists, who haunt Fleet Street -bars and restaurants, and who out of that sodden daily and nightly -experience get a few temporary jobs on the Press, and “pose” as a cult -and censorship of art. And fortunately the very phrase “strong book” -has become so much their own that it has now only to be used in order -to warn off the public from mere pot-house opinion.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> - -<h2>ON THE MAKING OF LITTLE POETS</h2> - -<p>Great Poets discover themselves. Little Poets have to be “discovered” -by somebody else. Otherwise they would live and die in the shadow -of decent obscurity, unheard, unseen, unknown. And it is seriously -open to question whether their so living and dying would not be an -advantage to society in the abating of a certain measure of boredom. -Looking back upon the motley crowd of Little Poets who had their day of -“discovery” and “boom” at the very period when the thunderous voice of -the Muse at her grandest was shaking the air through the inspired lips -of Byron, Shelley and Keats, and noting to what dusty oblivion their -little names and lesser works are now relegated without regret, it is -difficult to understand why they were ever dragged from the respectable -retirement of common-place mediocrity by their critic-contemporaries. -Byron was scorned, Shelley neglected, and Keats killed by these same -critics;—neither of the three were “discovered” or “made.” Their -creation was not of man, but of their own innate God-given genius, -and, according to the usual fate attending such divine things, the -fastidious human <i>dilettante</i> of their day would have none of them. He -set up his own verse-making Mumbo-Jumbo; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>and one Pye was Laureate. Pye -was Laureate,—yet Byron lived, and there was a reigning monarch in -England, strange as these assorted facts will seem to all intellectual -posterity. For a monarch’s word,—even a prince’s word,—must always -carry a certain weight of influence, and one asks wonderingly how, -under such circumstances, that word came to be left unsaid? No voice -from the Throne called the three greatest geniuses of the era to -receive any honour due to their rare gifts and quality. On the contrary -they were cast out as unvalued rubbish from their native land, and -the Little Poets had their way. Pye continued to write maudlin rhymes -unmolested, never dreaming that the only memory we should keep of him -or of his twaddle, would be the one scathing line of the banished Byron:</p> - -<p class="center">Better to err with Pope than shine with Pye!</p> - -<p>And feeble penny whistles played trumpery tunes to the languid votaries -of “cultchaw” in those days, and pennywhistle verse was voted “classic” -and supreme; but ever and anon the Nation turned a listening ear across -the seas and caught the music made by its outlawed singers,—music -it valued even then, and treasures now among its priceless and -imperishable glories. For the Nation knows what true Poetry is,—and no -“discoverer” will ever force it to accept a tallow candle for a star.</p> - -<p>The gulf between Great Poets and Little is a wide one,—wider than -that which yawned between Lazarus in heaven and Dives in hell. The -Great Poet is moved by an inspiration which he himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> cannot analyse, -and in which neither the desire of money nor the latent hope of fame -have the chiefest part. He sings simply because he must sing. He does -not labour at it, piecing his thoughts and words together with the -tardy and tame patience of a worker in mosaics, for though such exact -execution be admirable in mosaic-work, it is dull and lifeless in -poetry. Colour, fire, music, passion, and intense, glowing vitality are -the heritage of the Great Poet; and when the torrent of unpremeditated -love-song, battle-chant, dirge and prophecy pours from his lips, the -tired world slackens its pace to listen, and listening, silently crowns -him Laureate in its heart of hearts, regardless of Prime Minister or -Court Chamberlain. But the Little Poet is not able so to win attention; -he cannot sing thus “wildly well” because he lacks original voice. -He can only trim a sorry pipe of reed and play weak echoes thereon; -derivative twists of thought and borrowed fancies caught up from the -greater songs already ringing through the centuries. And when he -first begins piping in this lilliputian fashion he is generally very -miserable. He pipes “for pence; Ay me, how few!” Nobody listens; people -are too much engrossed with their own concerns to care about echoes. -Their attention can only be secured by singing them new songs that will -stir their pulses to new delights. The too-tootling of the Little Poet, -therefore, would never be noticed at all, even by way of derision, -unless he went down on all-fours and begged somebody to “discover” him. -The “discoverer” in most cases is a Superannuated-literary-gentleman, -who has tried his own hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> at poetry and failed ignominiously. -Incapacity to do any good work of one’s own frequently creates a -thirsty desire to criticize the work of other people; thus, in the -intervals of his impotent rage at the success of the deserving, the -Superannuated, resolved to push himself into notice somehow, takes to -“discovering” Little Poets. It is his poor last bid for fame; a final -forlorn effort to get his half-ounce of talent to the front by tacking -it on to some new name which he thinks (and he is quite alone in the -idea) may by the merest chance in the world, like a second-rate horse, -win a doubtful race. To admire any Great Poet who may happen to exist -among us, is no part of the Superannuated’s programme. He ignores Great -Poets generally, fearing lest the mere mention of their names should -eclipse his dwarfish nurslings.</p> - -<p>Now the public, mistakenly called fools, are perfectly aware of the -Superannuated. They see his signature affixed to many of the Little -Poets Booms, and ask each other with smiling tolerance, “What has he -done?” Nothing. “Oh! Then how does he know?” Ah, that is his secret! He -thinks he knows; and he wants you, excellent Fool-Public, to believe he -thinks he knows! And, under the pleasing delusion that you always have -your Fool’s Cap on, and never take it off under any circumstances, he -“discovers” Mr. Podgers for you. Who is Mr. Podgers? A poet. If we are -to credit the Superannuated, he is “a new star on the literary horizon, -of the first magnitude.” The “first magnitude”!—the public shakes its -caps and bells in amused scepticism. Another Shelley? Another Byron? -These were of the “first <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>magnitude,” and shall we thank a bounteous -heaven for one more such as these? No, no, nothing of the sort, says -the Superannuated with indignation, for it is high time you put this -sort of Shelley-Byron stuff behind you. Mr. Swinburne has distinctly -said that “Byron was no poet.” Learn wisdom, therefore, and turn from -Byron to Podgers. He has written a little book, has Podgers, for which -those who desire to possess it must pay a sum out of all proportion to -its size. What shall we find in this so-little book? Anything to make -our hearts beat in more healthful and harmonious tune? No. Nothing -of this in Podgers. Nothing, in fact, of any kind in Podgers which -we have not heard before. There are a few lines that we remember as -derived from Wordsworth, and one stanza seems to us like a carefully -transposed bit of Tennyson;—but for anything absolutely new in thought -or in treatment we search in vain. Unless we make exception for a -set of verses which are a tribute to the art of Log-Rolling, namely -Podgers’s “Ode” to Podgers’s favouring critic. We confess this to be -somewhat of a novelty, and we begin to pity Podgers. He must have -fallen very low to write (and publish) an “Ode” to the Superannuated, -his chief flatterer on the Press, and he must be very short-sighted if -he imagines that action is a millstone <i>without</i> a hole in it. And so, -despite the loud eulogies of the Superannuated (who is naturally proud -to be made the subject of any “Ode” however feeble) we do not purchase -Podgers’s book, though it is urged upon us as being a “limited” -edition. But the Superannuated is not herein baffled. If, he says, -if you are so asinine, so crass,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> so dull and dense of comprehension -as to reject this marvellous, this classic Podgers, what say you to -Stodgers? Stodgers is a “young” poet (forty-five last birthday), -entirely free from “manner” and manners. He has resorted to the last -and lowest method employed by Little Poets for obtaining temporary -notoriety, namely,—outraging decency. Coarseness and blasphemy are -the prevailing themes of his verse, but to the Superannuated these -grave blemishes constitute “power.” A “strong” line is a lewd line; a -“masterful” stanza contains a prurient suggestion. It suits the purpose -of the Superannuated to compare his two “discoveries,” Podgers and -Stodgers, and to work them against each other in those quarters of the -Press he controls, like the “toy millers” one buys for children. It is -a case of “Podgers come up and Stodgers come down,” as fits his humour -and digestion. Meanwhile the vital test of the whole matter is that -notwithstanding all this energetic “hawking about” of the Little Poets -by the Superannuated, neither Podgers nor Stodgers <i>sell</i>. Everything -is done to secure for them this desired result; unavailingly. And it -is not as if they came out in a “common” way, Podgers and Stodgers. No -publishing-firm with a simple name such as Messrs. Smith or Brown would -suit the Little Poets. They must come out singularly, and apart from -others. So they elect a publisher who, as it were, puts up a sign, as -though he were a Tavern. “Published at the Dragon’s Mouth” or “At the -Sign of the Flagon” would seem to be more convincing than “Published by -Messrs. So and So.” Now Podgers’s little book has a fanciful title-page -stating that it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> is published at the “Goose and Gridiron.” Stodgers, -we find, bursts upon the world at “The Blue Boar.” There is something -very delusive about all this. A flavour of ale and mulled wine -creeps insidiously into the air, and we are moved to yearn for good -warm drinks, whereas we only get indifferent cold verse. Now if the -proprietors of the “Goose and Gridiron” and the “Blue Boar” would only -sell inspiring liquids instead of uninspired rhymes, how their trade -would improve! No longer would they bend, lean and furrowed, over their -account-books—no longer would they have to scheme and puzzle over the -“making” of Little Poets; because it must not be imagined that the -Superannuated “discoverer” is the only one concerned in the business. -“Goose and Gridiron” and “Blue Boar” have to deal in many small tricks -of trade to compass it. Of course it is understood that the Little -Poets get no money out of their productions. What they stipulate for -with “Blue Boar” and likewise with “Goose and Gridiron” is a “hearing.” -This “hearing” is obtained variously. Podgers got it in this way, as -followeth: His verses, which had appeared from time to time in Sunday -papers and magazines, were issued in a “limited edition.” Such “limited -edition” was at once dispersed among booksellers in different parts of -the country “on sale or return,” and while thus doubtfully awaiting -purchasers, “Goose and Gridiron” tipped the trade-wink and perhaps -something else more substantial besides, to the Superannuated,—who -straightway seized his pen and wrote: “We hear that the first edition -of Mr. Podgers’s poems is exhausted, and that original copies are -already at a premium.” This done, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> “passed” through many papers, -the publisher followed it up with an advertisement to the effect that -“The first edition of Mr. Podgers’s poems being exhausted, a Second -will be ready in a few days.” And here, it may as well be said for -the rectitude of “Goose and Gridiron,” things came to a standstill. -Because the Little Poets seldom get beyond a second edition. When -Podgers’s first editions came back unsold from the provinces (as they -did), attempts were made to dispose of them at fancy prices as a last -resource,—such attempts naturally ending in disaster. The times are -too hard, and people have too much to do with their money to part with -any of it for first editions of Podgers or Stodgers. The public is a -very shrewd one, moreover, and is not to be “taken in” by gnat-rhymers -dancing up and down for an hour in the “discoverer’s” artificial -sunbeams. And the Superannuated, in his eager desire to assert himself -as an oracular personage, forgets one very important fact, and this is, -that being a Nobody he cannot be accepted as warrant for a Somebody. -The public is not his child; he cannot whip it into admiring Mr. -Podgers, or coerce its judgment respecting Mr. Stodgers. Its ways -are wilful, and it has a ridiculous habit (considering what a Fool -the critic imagines it to be) of preferring its own opinion to that -of the Superannuated. It is capable, it thinks, what with Compulsory -Education and the rest of it, of making its own choice. And on the -whole it prefers the Great Poet,—the man who scorns to be “discovered” -by an inferior intellect, and who makes his own way independently and -with a grand indifference to the squabbling of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> Log-rollers. He is not -“made”; he forms part of the country’s blood and life; he chants the -national thought in haunting rhythm as did the prophet bards of old; -he, careless of “pence,” praise or fame, does so mix himself with his -land’s history, that he becomes, as it were the very voice of the age -in which he lives, and the Superannuated may ignore him as he will, -he cannot get him out of the nation’s heart when he has once got in. -But of the feeble, absurdly conceited tribe of Little Poets who come -jostling one upon another nowadays in such a puling crowd, piping out -their wretchedly small personalities in versed pessimism or coarse -metaphor,—men “made” by the Tavern-publisher and the Superannuated -Failure;—we have had enough of these, and more than enough. Too much -good paper, good ink and good binding are wasted on their totally -undesired productions. Life with us now is lived at too hard and too -difficult a pace for any one to need poetry that is <i>only</i> verse. -Hearts break every day in the truest sense of that sentimental phrase; -brains reel into insanity and the darkness of suicide; and it is no -Little Poet’s personal pangs about “pence” and such trifles, that can, -like David’s harp of old, soothe or dismiss the dark spirit brooding -over the latter-day Saul. It is the Great Poet we care for, whose -singing-soul mystically comprehends our unuttered thoughts of love or -glory; who chants not only his pains, but ours; not his joy, so much as -the whole world’s joy. Such a man needs no “discoverer” to prove his -existence; he is self-evident. When we grow so purblind as to need a -still blinder Mole to point us out the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> sun, then, but not till then -shall we require the assistance of the Superannuated to “discover” what -we understand by a Poet. At present we are actively conscious both of -the orb of day, and the true quality of genius; and though the Poet we -choose for ourselves and silently acknowledge as worthy of all honour, -may not be, and seldom is, the recommended favourite of a clique, we -are fully aware of him, and show our love and appreciation by setting -his book among our household gods. No “limited edition” will suffice -for such a man; we need to have his poems singing about us wherever we -go. For the oft-repeated truth is to-day as true as ever,—that the -Great Poet is “born,” and never has been and never will be “made.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE PRAYER OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P.</h2> - -<p class="bold">WHICH HE PRAYETH DAILY</p> - -<p>O thou Especial Little God of Parliaments and Electors, with whom the -greater God of the Universe has nothing whatever to do!—I beseech Thee -to look upon me, Thy chosen servant, with a tolerant and favourable Eye!</p> - -<p>Consider with Leniency the singular and capricious Chance which has -enabled me to become a Member of the Government, and grant me Thy -protection, so that my utter Incapacity for the Post may never be -discovered! Enable me, I implore Thee, to altogether dispense with -the assistance of a certain Journalist and Press-Reporter in the -composition of my Speeches! His Terms are high, and I am not sure of -his Discretion!</p> - -<p>Impart unto me by spiritual telegraphy such Knowledge of the general -Situation of Affairs that I may be able to furnish forth an occasional -Intelligent Remark to the farmers of this Constituency, whose Loyalty -to the Government is as firm as their Trust in the Power of Beer! -Give me the grace of such shallow Profundity and Pretension as -shall convince Rustic minds of my complete Superiority to them in -matters concerning their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> Interest and Welfare; and teach me to use -their Simplicity for the convenient furtherance of my own Cunning! -Fill me with such necessary and becoming Arrogance as shall make me -overbearingly insolent to Persons of Intellect, while yet retaining -that sleek Affability which shall cause me to appear a Fawning Flunkey -to Persons of Rank! Enable me to so condescendingly patronize the -Electors who gave me their Majority that it shall seem I was returned -through Merit only, and not through Bribes and Beer! And mercifully -defend me, O Beneficent little Deity, from all possibility of ever -being called upon to address the House! I am no speaker,—and even if I -were, I have no Ideas whereon to hang a fustian sentence! Thou Knowest, -All-Knowing-One, that I have not so much as an Opinion, save that it -is good for me, in respect of Social Advantage, to write M.P. after -my name! And surely Thou dost also know that I have paid Two Thousand -Pounds for the purchase of this small portion of the Alphabet, making -One Thousand Pounds per letter, which may humbly be submitted to Thee, -O Calculating Ruler of Parliamentary Elections, as somewhat dear!</p> - -<p>But I have accepted these Conditions and paid the Sum without -murmuring; therefore of Thy goodness, be pleased to spare me from the -utterance of even one word in the presence of my peers, concerning any -Matter for the Advancement of Which I have been elected! For lo,—if -I said as much as “Yea,” it might be ill-advised; and yet again, if I -said “Nay,” it might be ill-timed! Inasmuch as I am compelled to rely -on the Journalist and Press-Reporter before mentioned, for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>whatsoever -knowledge of matters political I possess, and it is just possible -that he might,—through an extra dose of whisky-soda,—mislead me -by erroneous information! O Lord of Press-Agencies and Grub Street -Eating-Houses, if it be possible unto Thee, relieve me of this Man! -He charges more, so I am credibly informed, per Hundred Words than -any other Inventor of Original Eloquence in the pay of the Unlettered -and Inarticulate of the House! And it is much to be feared that he -does not always keep his own Counsel! Wherefore, gracious Deity, I -would be Released with all convenient Speed from the Exercise of -his Power! Rather than be constantly compelled to rely upon this -Journalistic Wretch for Advice and Instruction, it will more conduce -to my Comfort,—though possibly to my Fatigue,—to commit to Memory -such portions of long-forgotten speeches spoken by Defunct Members of -the House in the Past, as may be found suitable to the present needs -of the Rural Population. The Corn-growing and Cattle-breeding Electors -will not know from what Sources I derive my Inspiration, and the Editor -of the Local Newspaper has not yet taken a degree in Scholarship. -Moreover, the Dead are happily unable to send in any Claim for Damages -against the Theft of their Ideas, which are as free to Independent -Pilferers as the Original Plots of New and Successful Romances are -free to the Dramatizing Robbers in the Stage-Purlieus, thanks to the -Admirable Attitude of Dignified Indolence assumed by that Government to -which I, one Fool out of Many, have the honour to belong!</p> - -<p>Finally, O Beneficent Lilliputian Deity which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> governeth matters -Parliamentary,—grant me such a sufficient amount of highly-respectable -Mendacity as shall enable me to pass successfully for what I am not, at -least, so far as Society in the Country is concerned! Fully aware am I, -O Lord, that a Simulation of Ability will not always meet with approval -in Town, though it has been occasionally known to do so! Therefore I am -well content to sit in the House as one MUM, thus representing through -myself an inaudible County! But in the County itself it shall seem -to the Uninitiated that my thoughts are too deep for speech; while I -retain in my own mind the knowledge of the Fact that my Humbug is too -great for Expression!</p> - -<p>To Thee, gentle yet capricious Deity, I commend all my Desires, -praying Thee to keep the people whom I represent as Dumb and Inert as -myself in matters concerning their own Welfare, for if they should -chance to consider the Situation by the light of Common Sense, -and me by the shrewd Appreciation of a Native Wit, it might occur -to them to prefer a Man rather than a Wooden-headed Nonentity to -Proclaim their Existence to the King’s faithful Commons! Wherefore, -at the next General Election I should lose my Seat,—which would -be Disagreeable to me personally, as well as a Cause of Rage in my -Wife, to whom my present Condition of a Parliamentary Microbe is -much more important and advantageous than it is to the Country! And -Thou knowest, O Lord, that when my Wife is moved by the Impetuous -Persuasion of a difficult Temper, it is necessary for me, by reason -of her Superior Height, Size, and Aggressiveness, to retire from the -domestic Fighting-ground, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>considerably worsted in the unequal Combat. -Protect me, merciful Deity, from her Tongue!—which is as a Sword to -slay all thoughts of Peace! And, concerning the accursed, ubiquitous -Journalist-Reporter-Paragraphist-Correspondent-Attached-to-all-Newspapers -Man, who, for my sins, wrote my “speech to the Electors” at a high -charge, and agreed,—and therefore expects,—to write all my other -public utterances on the same terms, I beseech Thee, when he next waits -upon me with his Bill, ready to Counsel or to Command, grant me the -Strength and Courage to tell a more barefaced Lie than is habitual to -me, and to boldly say that I can do Without him!</p> - -<p class="center space-above"><span class="smcap">Amen!</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE THANKSGIVING OF THE SMALL COUNTRY M.P’s WIFE,</h2> - -<p class="bold">WHICH SHE OFFERETH WEEK-END-LY</p> - -<p>To Thee, O Bland and Blessëd Deity of Surplus Cash and Social -Advancement, whose favours are never bestowed upon the Poor or the -Wise, but only on the Rich and the Foolish, I give praise, honour and -glory!</p> - -<p>I thank Thee that Thou hast made of that Supreme Ass, my Husband, a -Member of the Government, so that, despite his utter Lack of Wit and -Hopeless Incompetency, he may at least pass muster for having Brains in -a particularly Brainless Constituency!</p> - -<p>I acknowledge Thy mercy and goodness in permitting that for the -moderate cost of Two Thousand Pounds and upwards,—a sum not greatly -in excess of my dressmaker’s annual bill,—I may set my foot on the -two dumb and prostrate Letters of the Alphabet now attached to my said -Husband’s new calling and Election, and may mount thereon to those -heights of County Society where, ever since I was born I have eagerly -thirsted to be! For though County Society be often duller than the -fabled Styx, nevertheless the leaden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> weight of its Approval is as -necessary to my special comfort and welfare as the Gilded chain of -Office is to the swelling chest of a Provincial Mayor. Thou knowest, -O little Lord of Communities Narrow, Parochial and Politic, that I am -called, even by the Profanest of Press-Reporters, “a fine figure of a -woman,” and that I am deserving of Public Notice and Commendation, not -only for my Physical Attractions, but for my Social Qualifications, -which, despite the fact that Fate has wedded me to a Fool, have enabled -me to successfully represent the said Fool to his bovine Electors as -an Intelligent Personality! Great is the Tact which is needed to palm -off a Sparrow for an Eagle, a Mouse for an Elephant, or a Donkey for -a Statesman! But I swear to Thee, O Thou gracious Little Neptune who -ruleth that Limited Ocean called the “Society Swim” that I am equal -to all this and more! Thou seest me as I am, a Fashionable Feminine -Insincerity! Thou beholdest the subtle cleverness of my Social Smile, -which radiates sweetly upon the faces of such persons as I conceive -may be useful in Election times, but which fades into a Supercilious -Sneer when I discover, as I often do, that many of these persons are -unblushingly “of no political party,” and have no interest whatever in -keeping my Husband in His Seat! Now if my Husband were not in His Seat, -I should become that most deplorable of human beings, a Provincial -Nonentity! Hence arises my natural and lawful Desire that in His Seat -my Husband shall remain, inasmuch as were he left without a Seat, I -should be left without a “Set”!</p> - -<p>But thanks be unto Thee, O Thou amiable and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> complaisant God of the -British Social Status, there seems to be at present no cause for -alarm that the Rustics whom my Husband, with unintelligent dumbness -represents in the House of Commons will ever Rise! Chiefly inspired -as they are by Drugged Beer, it is safe to presume that they will -not easily awaken from their Public-House Torpor, or in a species of -vulgar “horse-play” pull my Husband’s seat from under him,—even as -a lubberly child pulls away a chair from the Unsuspecting Visitor -who would fain sit down upon it,—and so precipitate my Husband -into the unenviable rank of Unimportant Provincials! I myself am -ready to guarantee,—always with Thy support, O Favourer of Paid -Parliamentary Press-Puffery,—that so dire a Catastrophe as this shall -not happen! For My weight,—which is both materially and mentally -Considerable,—would have to be thrown into the Balance,—whereby -the tottering Seat, even if partially overthrown, would, and -needs Must,—under the force of my impetuous Clutch,—regain the -Perpendicular!</p> - -<p>Being by unredeemed nature a Stupid Woman, I acknowledge freely and -with gratitude Thy Omnipotent Guidance in Matters purely Snobbish! I -praise and bless Thee for showing me the quickest way out of Things -Intellectual into Things Conventional! I thank Thee for Thy unfailing -assistance afforded to me in the beaten paths of County Flunkeydom, -wherein I walk with virtuous circumspection, taking care to leave my -impressive Visiting-Cards and likewise those of my Husband, on Houses -only, and never on People! For People may be dangerous acquaintances, -while Houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> never are. A Family Residence is always more respectable -than a Family!</p> - -<p>I give Thee glory that I am made of such stubborn Flesh and Quality as -never to recognize that any other Woman exists who, by the Inconvenient -Attributes of Either Beauty, Wit or Intelligence, deserves to be -considered my Superior, and that when any such Intrusive and Obtrusive -Female is accidentally forced upon my Notice, I have the good sense -to diplomatically ignore Her. I am gratefully conscious that the -Meaningless Insipidity of my Manner has favourably impressed the -Uneducated Majority of my Husband’s Constituents. And also, that having -once obtained their Unreasoning Votes, their Bucolic Lethargy is such, -that I need do little further to retain their Credulous Admiration save -to put in an Occasional Well-Dressed Appearance at a “local” Bazaar, -or Charity Ball. Concerning any aims or hopes they may, in their -blundering Dulness, have ever entertained towards the Betterment of -their Condition, and the Representation of these Addle-pated desires to -His Majesty’s Government, I am as Profoundly Indifferent as my Husband -is Voluntarily Ignorant. For, as the larger number of the Faithful -Commons are aware, no Act is more fatal to the Social Prestige and -County Influence of a Member of the House, than that he should, when in -office, fulfil the Rash Promises made to his Electors during a Critical -state of the Poll! Inasmuch as the only Reasonable object to be -attained by the Purchase of the Letters M. and P. is the Betterment of -One’s Self and One’s Social Position on the lines of such Conventional -Hypocrisies as are agreeable to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> Best County Houses. For the taking -of any bold or conspicuous part in any National Matter of Interest or -Importance has long been sagaciously avoided by every County Member -who desires to retain His Seat. And that one Man should do what his -Colleagues dare not attempt, would be a Heroism which, thanks unto -Thee, O Prudent Presiding Deity of Grandmotherly Westminster, is -fortunately not to be expected of my Husband!</p> - -<p>Finally I thank Thee, O Wise and All-Discerning, for the Gracious -Consolation which Thou hast imparted unto me in the fact that though my -Husband is the Embodiment of county Vacuity, the Majority of the King’s -Faithful Commons are as Vacuous as He! For, as in the multitude of Ants -in an Anthill, One insect more industrious or intelligent than the -rest is not easily discovered, even so, in the goodly array of Stupid -Members, the Stupidest of them all may conveniently sit in his Seat -without public Comment.</p> - -<p>And for the Constant Enjoyment of my own Admitted Position -among the Tea-Drinking, Fox-Hunting and Bucolic <i>élite</i> of the -Neighbourhood,—for the graceful Ease with which I assume to be what -I am not, by reason of the Two Letters attached to my Husband’s -Name, which gives much more importance to Me than to Him,—and for -the general comfortable Self-Assertiveness in which I live and -move and have my being, I bless Thee, O Potent little Deity of the -Polling-Booth, and acknowledge Thy Manifold Mercies! May the Seat of my -Husband continue firm in Thy Sight, unmoved by any Popular Caprice of -the Vulgar, until such time as my eldest Hopeful Son, the very pattern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -of His Father, shall slip into it Unopposed after Him, and so preserve -in those Unsophisticated Rural Districts whereby we are surrounded, the -Unblemished Honour of a Unique Reputation for Highly Educated Political -Incompetence in this Advanced and Enlightened Age!</p> - -<p class="center space-above"><span class="smcap">Amen!</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE VANISHING GIFT</h2> - -<p>The unseen rulers of human destiny are, on the whole, very kindly -Fates. They appear beneficently prone to give us mortals much more -than we deserve. Gifts of various grace and value are showered upon -us incessantly through our life’s progress,—gifts for which we are -too often ungrateful, or which we fail to appreciate at their true -worth. Apart from the pleasures of the material senses which we share -in common with our friends and fellows of the brute creation, the more -delicate and exquisite emotions of the mind are ministered to with -unfailing and fostering care. Music—Poetry, Art in all its brilliant -and changeful phases,—these things are offered for the delectation of -our thoughts and the refinement of our tastes; but the most priceless -boon of the Immortals is the talisman which alone enables us to -understand the beauty of life at its highest, and the perfection of -ideals at their best. I mean Imagination,—that wonderful spiritual -faculty which is the source of all great creative work in Art and -Literature. Some call it “Inspiration”; others, the Divine Fire; but -whatever its nature or quality, there is good cause to think—and to -fear—that it is gradually dwindling down and disappearing altogether -from the world of to-day. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> - -<p>The reasons for this are not very far to seek. We are living in -an age of feverish unrest and agitation. If we could picture a -twentieth century Satan appearing before the Almighty under the -circumstances described in the Book of Job, to answer the question, -“Whence comest thou?”—the same reply would suit not only his, but -our condition—“From going to and fro in the earth, and wandering up -and down within it.” We are always going to and fro in these days. We -are forever wandering up and down. Few of us are satisfied to remain -long in the same place, among the same surroundings—and in this way -the foundations of home life,—formerly so noble and firm a part of -our national strength—are being shaken and disorganized. A very -great majority of us appear to be afflicted with the chronic disease -of Hurry, which generally breeds a twin ailment—Worry. We have no -time for anything somehow. We seem to be always under the thrall of -an invisible policeman, commanding us to “Move on!” And we do move -on, like the tramps we are becoming. Moreover, we have decided that -we cannot get over the ground quickly enough on the limbs with which -Nature originally provided us—so we spin along on cycles, and dash -about on motor cars. And it is confidently expected that by-and-by -the mere earth will not be good enough for us, and that we shall -“scorch” through the air—when a great change may be looked for in -house accommodation. People will return, it is said, to the early -cave dwellings, in order to avoid the massacre likely to be caused by -tumbling air-ships over which the captains have lost control. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> - -<p>There is something humourous in all this modern hurry-skurry; something -almost grotesque in this desire for swift movement—this wish to save -time and to stint work;—but there is something infinitely pathetic -about it as well. It is as if the present Period of the world’s -civilization felt itself growing old—as if, like an individual human -unit, it knew itself to be past its prime and drawing nigh to death, -as if,—with the feeble restlessness of advancing age, it were seeking -to cram as much change and amusement as possible into the little time -of existence left to it. Two of the most notable signs of such mental -and moral decay are, a morbid craving for incessant excitement, and a -disinclination to think. It is quite a common thing nowadays to hear -people say, “Oh, I have no time to think!”—and they seem to be more -proud than ashamed of their loss of mental equilibrium. But it is very -certain that where there is no time to think, there is less time to -imagine—and where there is neither thought nor imagination, creative -work of a high and lasting quality is not possible.</p> - -<p>We, in our day, are fortunate in so far that we are the inheritors -of the splendid work accomplished in the youth and prime of all that -we know of civilization. No doubt there were immense periods beyond -our ken, in which the entire round of birth, youth, maturity, age and -death, was fulfilled by countless civilizations whose histories are -unrecorded—but we can only form the faintest guess at this, through -the study of old dynasties which, ancient as they are, may perhaps be -almost modern compared to the unknown empires which have utterly passed -away beyond human recovery.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> But if we care to examine the matter, we -shall find among all nations, that as soon as a form of civilization -has emerged from barbarism, like a youth emerging from childhood, it -has entered on its career with a glad heart and a poetic soul,—full of -ideals, and richly endowed with that gift of the gods—Imagination. It -has invariably expressed itself as being reverently conscious of the -Highest source of all creation; and its utterance through all its best -work and achievement can be aptly summed up in Wordsworth’s glorious -lines:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting—</div> -<div class="i1">The Soul that rises with us, our life’s star</div> -<div>Hath had elsewhere its setting,</div> -<div class="i1">And cometh from afar,—</div> -<div class="i3">Not in entire forgetfulness,</div> -<div class="i3">And not in utter nakedness,</div> -<div class="i3">But trailing clouds of glory do we come,</div> -<div class="i3">From God who is our home!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>While these “trailing clouds of glory” still cling to the soul, the -limits of this world,—the mere dust and grime of material things,—do -not and cannot satisfy it; it must penetrate into a realm which is -of its own idea and innate perception. There it must itself create a -universe, and find expression for its higher thought. To this resentful -attitude of the soul against mere materialism, we owe all art, all -poetry, all music. Every great artistic work performed outside the -needs of material and physical life may be looked upon as a spiritual -attempt to break open the close walls of our earthly prison-house and -let a glimpse of God’s light through.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, everything we possess or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> know of to-day, is -the visible outcome of a once imagined possibility. It has been -very grandly said that “the Universe itself was once a dream in the -mind of God.” So may we say that every scientific law, every canon -of beauty—every great discovery—every splendid accomplishment was -once a dream in the mind of man. All the religions of the world, with -their deep, beautiful, grand or terrific symbols of life, death and -immortality, have had their origin in the instinctive effort of the -Soul to detach itself from the mere earthly, and to imagine something -better. In the early days, this strong aspiration of humanity towards -a greater and more lasting good than its own immediate interest, -was displayed in the loftiest and purest conceptions of art. The -thoughts of the “old-world” period are written in well-nigh indelible -characters. The colossal architecture of the temples of ancient -Egypt—and that marvellous imaginative creation, the Sphinx, with its -immutable face of mingled scorn and pity—the beautiful classic forms -of old Greece and Rome—these are all visible evidences of spiritual -aspiration and endeavour,—moreover, they are the expression of a -broad, reposeful strength,—a dignified consciousness of power. The -glorious poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures—the swing and rush of Homer’s -Iliad,—the stately simplicity and profundity of Plato,—these also -belong to what we know of the youth of the world. And they are still -a part of the world’s most precious possessions. We, in our day, can -do nothing so great. We have neither the imagination to conceive such -work, nor the calm force necessary to execute it. The artists of a -former<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> time laboured with sustained and tireless, yet tranquil energy; -we can only produce imitations of the greater models with a vast amount -of spasmodic hurry and clamour. So, perchance, we shall leave to future -generations little more than an echo of “much ado about nothing.” For, -truly, we live at present under a veritable scourge of mere noise. No -king, no statesman, no general, no thinker, no writer, is allowed to -follow the course of his duty or work without the shrieking comments -of all sorts and conditions of uninstructed and misguided persons, and -under such circumstances it is well to remember the strong lines of our -last great poet Laureate:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Step by step we gain’d a freedom, known to Europe, known to all,—</div> -<div>Step by step we rose to greatness,—through the <i>tonguesters</i> we may fall!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>But our chief disablement for high creative work,—and one that is -particularly noticeable at this immediate period of our history, is, as -I have said, the “vanishing of the gift”—the lack of Imagination. To -be wanting in this, is to be wanting in the first element of artistic -greatness. The poet, the painter, the sculptor, or the musician must -be able to make a world of his own and live in it, before he can make -one for others. When he has evolved such a world out of his individual -consciousness, and has peopled it with the creations of his fancy, -he can turn its “airy substance” into reality for all time. For the -things we call “imaginative” are often far more real than what we call -“realism.” All that we touch, taste and see, we call “real.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> Now we -cannot touch, taste or see Honour—but surely it is real! We cannot -weigh out Courage in a solidified parcel—yet it is an actual thing. -So with Imagination—it shows us what we may, if we choose, consider -“the baseless fabric of a vision”—but which often proves as real and -practical in its results as Honour and Courage. Shakespeare’s world is -real;—so real that there are not wanting certain literary imposters -who grudge him its reality and strive to dispossess him of his own. -Walter Scott’s world is real—so real, that a shrine has been built for -him in Edinburgh, crowded with sculptured figures of men and women, -most of whom never existed, save in his teeming fancy. What a tribute -to the power of Imagination is the beautiful monument in the centre of -Princes Street, with all the forms evoked from one great mind, lifted -high above us, who consider ourselves “real” people! And now the lesser -world of thought is waiting for the discovery of a Cryptogram in the -Waverley Novels, which shall prove that King George the Fourth wrote -them with the assistance of Scott’s game-keeper, Tom Purdie,—and that -his Majesty gave Scott a baronetcy on condition that he should never -divulge the true authorship! For, according to the narrow material -limits of some latter-day minds, no one man could possibly have written -Shakespeare’s Plays. Therefore it may be equally argued that, as there -is as much actual work, and quite as many characters in the Waverley -Novels as in the plays of Shakespeare, they could not all have emanated -from the one brain of Sir Walter Scott. Come forward then with a -“Waverley cryptogram,” little mean starvelings of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>literature who would -fain attempt to prove a man’s work is not his own! There are sure to be -some envious fools always ready to believe that the great are not so -great,—the heroic not so heroic, and that after all, they, the fools, -may be wiser than the wisest men!</p> - -<p>In very truth, one of the worst signs of the vanishing of the gift of -Imagination in these days is the utter inability of the majority of -modern folk to understand its value. The creative ease and exquisite -happiness of an imaginative soul which builds up grand ideals of life -and love and immortality with less effort than is required for the -act of breathing, seems to be quite beyond their comprehension. And -so—unfortunately it often follows that what is above them they try to -pull down,—and what is too large for them to grasp, they endeavour -to bind within their own narrow ring of experience. The attempt is -of course useless. We cannot get the planet Venus to serve us as a -lamp on our dinner table. We cannot fit the eagle into a sparrow’s -nest. But some people are always trying to do this sort of thing. -And when they find they cannot succeed, they fall into a fit of the -spleen, and revile what they cannot emulate. There is no surer sign of -mental and moral decadence than this grudging envy of a great fame. -For the healthy mind rejoices in the recognition of genius wherever -or whenever it may be discovered, and has a keen sense of personal -delight in giving to merit all its due. Hero-worship is a much finer -and more invigorating emotion than hero-slander. The insatiate -desire which is shown by certain writers nowadays, to pull down the -great reputations of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> past, destroy old traditions, and cheapen -noble attainment, resembles a sudden outbreak of insane persons who -strive to smash everything within their reach. It is in its way a -form of Imagination,—but Imagination diseased and demoralized. For -Imagination, like all other faculties of the brain, can become sickly -and perverted. When it is about to die it shows—in common with -everything else in that condition,—signs of its dissolution. Such -signs of feebleness and decay are everywhere visible in the world at -the present time. They are shown in the constant output of decadent -and atheistical literature—in the decline of music and the drama from -noble and classic forms to the repulsive “problem” play and the comic -opera—in the splashy daubing of good canvas called “impressionist” -painting—in the acceptance, or passive toleration, of the vilest -doggerel verse as “poetry”—and in the wretched return to the lowest -forms of ignorance displayed in the “fashionable” craze for palmistry, -clairvoyance, crystal-gazing, and sundry other quite contemptible -evidences of foolish credulity concerning the grave issues of life and -death,—combined with a most sorrowful, most deplorable indifference -to the simple and pure teachings of the Christian Faith. Even in the -Christian Faith itself, its chosen ministers seem unable to serve their -Divine Master without quarrelling over trifles,—which is surely no -part of their calling and election.</p> - -<p>Everywhere there is a lack of high ideals,—and all the arts suffer -severely in consequence. Modern education itself checks and cramps the -growth of imaginative originality. The general tendency is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> unhappily -towards the basest forms of materialism, and a large majority of people -appear to be smitten with a paralysing apathy concerning everything -but the making of money. That art is pursued with a horrible avidity, -to the exclusion of every higher and nobler pursuit. Yet it needs -very little “imagination” to prophesy what the end of a nation is -bound to be when the unbridled fever of avarice once sets in. History -has chronicled the ruin of empires from this one cause over and over -again for our warning; and as Carlyle said in his stern and strenuous -way—“One thing I do know: Never on this earth was the relation of -man to man long carried on by cash payment alone. If at any time a -philosophy of Laissez-faire, Competition and Supply-and-Demand start up -as the exponent of human relations, expect that it will soon end.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps some will say that Imagination is not a “vanishing gift”—and -that Idealism and Romance still exist, at any rate among the Celtic -races, and in countries such as Scotland, for instance, the home of -so much noble tradition, song and story. I wish I could believe this. -But unhappily the proofs are all against it. If the Imaginative Spirit -were not decaying in Scotland as elsewhere, should we have seen the -wanton and wicked destruction of one of its fairest scenes of natural -beauty—the Glen and Fall of Foyers? There, where once the clear -beautiful cascade whose praises were sung by Robert Burns, dashed down -in its thundering glory among the heather and bracken, there are now -felled trees, sorrowful blackened stumps, withering ferns and trampled -flowers, dirty car-tracks, and all the indescribable muck which follows -in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> wake of the merely money-grubbing human microbe. And where once -the pulse was quickened to a sane and healthy delight in the grandeur -of unspoilt Nature, and the mind was uplifted from sordid cares to -high contemplation, we are now asked to buy an aluminium paper-knife -for a shilling! Human absurdity can no further go than this. There can -be little imagination left in the minds that could have tolerated the -building of aluminium works where Foyers once poured music through -the glen. And it is instructive to recall the action taken by the -Belgian people—who are generally supposed to be very prosaic,—when -some of their beautiful scenery on the river Amblève, was threatened -with similar destruction. Mustering together, three to four thousand -strong, they took a reduced model of the intended factory, burnt it -on the spot, and threw its ashes into the river; performing such a -terror-striking “carmagnole” of revolt, that the authorities were -compelled to prohibit the erection of the proposed works, for fear of -a general rising throughout the country. Would that such a protest -had been offered by the people of Scotland against the destruction of -Foyers!</p> - -<p>And what of the pitiful ruin of Loch Katrine?—once an unspoilt gem of -Highland scenery, doubly beloved for the sake of Sir Walter Scott’s -“Lady of the Lake”? What of the submerging of “Ellen’s Isle”?—the -ruthless uprooting of that “entangled wood”—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Where Nature scattered, free and wild.</div> -<div>Each plant or flower, the mountain’s child,—</div> -<div>Here eglantine embalmed the air,</div> -<div>Heather and hazel mingled there.</div> -<div class="center">* * * * *</div> -<div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>The wanderer’s eye could barely view</div> -<div>The summer heaven’s delicious blue—</div> -<div>So wondrous wild!—the whole might seem</div> -<div>The scenery of a fairy dream!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I have been assured on the very best authority that all the beauty of -Loch Katrine could have been left undisturbed, had the Scottish people -taken any actively determined measures towards preserving it. The -increasing water-supply necessary for Glasgow could have been procured -from Loch Vennachar, which is a larger loch, and quite as good for the -purpose. Only it would have cost more money, and that extra cash was -not forthcoming, even for Sir Walter’s sake! It is a poor return to -make to the memory of him who did so much for the fame of Scotland, -to mutilate the scene he loved and immortalized! The struggles and -disasters of the Jacobite Cause, and the defeat at Culloden brought -more gain than loss to Scotland, by filling the land with glorious song -and heroic tradition,—the result of the noble idealistic spirit which -made even failure honourable,—but the defacement of Loch Katrine, the -scene of “The Lady of the Lake” is nothing but a disgrace to those who -authorized it, and to those who kept silence while the deed was done.</p> - -<p>But there are yet other signs and tokens of the disappearance of -that idealistic and romantic spirit in Scotland, which has more than -anything, helped to make its history such a brilliant chronicle of -heroism and honour. There are “a certain class” of Scottish people who -are ashamed of the Scotch accent, and who affect to be unable to read -anything written in the Scotch dialect. I am told—though I would hope -it is not true—that the larger majority<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> of Scottish ladies object to -Scotch music, and do not know any Scotch songs. If this <i>is</i> true of -any “certain class” of Scottish people, I am sorry for them. They have -fallen down a long way from the height where birth and country placed -them! I should like to talk to any Scot, man or woman, who is ashamed -of the Scotch accent. As well be ashamed of the mountain heather! I -should like to interview any renegade son or daughter of the Celtic -race, who is not proud of every drop of Celtic blood, every word and -line of Celtic tradition,—every sweet song that expresses the Celtic -character. Nothing that is purely national should be set aside or -allowed to perish. It is a thousand pities that the old Gaelic speech -is dying out in the Highlands, along with the picturesque “plaid” and -“bonnet” of the Highland shepherds. The Gaelic language is a rich -and copious one, and should be kept up in every Scottish school and -University. Some of the Gaelic music, too, is the most beautiful in the -world,—and many a so-called “original” composer has taken the theme -for an overture or a symphony from an ancient, long-forgotten Gaelic -tune. A fine spirit of romance and idealism is the natural heritage of -the Celtic race;—far too precious a birthright to be exchanged for -the languid indifferentism of latter-day London fashion, which too -often makes a jest of noble enthusiasm, and which would, no doubt, call -Sir Walter Scott’s fine novel of <i>The Heart of Midlothian</i>, “kailyard -literature”—if it dared!</p> - -<p>And who that understands anything about music is so foolish and -ignorant as to despise a Scottish song? Where can we match, in all -song literature,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> the songs of Robert Burns? What German “lied”—what -French or Italian “canzonet” or “chansonette” expresses such real human -tenderness as “Of a’ the airts” or “My Nannie O!”? And it should be -remembered that the imaginative pathos of the Scottish song has its -other side of imaginative humour—sly, dry humour, such as cannot be -rivalled in any language or dialect of the world. And in spite of the -incredible assertion that they are beginning to despise their native -Doric, there are surely few real Scotsmen who, even at this time of day -fail to understand the whimsical satire of the famous old Jacobite song:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king</div> -<div class="i2">But a wee, wee German lairdie,</div> -<div>An’ he’s brought fouth o’ foreign trash</div> -<div class="i2">An’ dibbled it in his yairdie,—</div> -<div>He’s pu’d the rose o’ England loons</div> -<div>An’ broken the harp o’ Irish clowns—</div> -<div>But our Scotch thistle will jag his thumbs!</div> -<div class="i2">The wee, wee German lairdie!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>We shall not find anything of a bilious nature in a Scottish love-song. -We shall not hear the swain asking his lady-love to meet him “in some -sky,” or “when the hay is in the mow,” or any other vaguely indefinite -place or period. The Scottish lover appears,—if we may judge him -by his native song,—to be supremely healthy in his sentiments, and -gratefully conscious of the excellence of both life and love. He takes -even poverty with a light heart, and does not grizzle over it in -trickling tears of dismal melody. No; he says simply and cheerily: </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>My riches a’ my penny fee,</div> -<div class="i1">An’ I maun guide it cannie O,—</div> -<div>But this world’s gear ne’er fashes me,—</div> -<div class="i2">My thoughts are a’ my Nannie O!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>It will be a sad day indeed when this spirit of wholesome, tender and -poetic imagination drifts away altogether from Scotland. We must not -forget that the Scottish race has taken a very firm root in the New -World Beyond Seas,—and that out in Canada and Australia and South -Africa the memories and the traditions of home are dear to the hearts -of thousands who call Scotland their mother. Surely they should be -privileged to feel that in their beautiful ancestral land, the old -proud spirit is still kept up,—the old legends, the old language, -the old songs,—all the old associations, which—far away as they -are forced to dwell—they can still hand down to their children and -their children’s children. No king,—no statesman, can do for a -country what its romancists and poets can,—for the sovereignty of the -truly inspired and imaginative soul is supreme, and as far above all -other earthly dominion as the fame of Homer is above the conquests -of Alexander. And when the last touch of idealistic fancy and poetic -sentiment has been crushed out of us, and only the dry husks of -realism are left to feed swine withal, then may we look for the end -of everything that is worth cherishing and fighting for in our much -boasted civilization.</p> - -<p>For with the vanishing gift, vanish many other things, which may be -called in the quaint phrasing of an Elizabethan writer, “a bundle of -good graces.” The chivalrous spirit of man towards woman is one of -those “good graces” which is rapidly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>disappearing. Hospitality is -another “good grace” which is on the wane. The art of conversation -is almost a lost one. People talk as they ride bicycles—at a -rush—without pausing to consider their surroundings. Elegant manners -are also at a discount. The “scorching,” steaming, spasmodic motor -man-animal does not inspire reverence. The smoking, slangy horsey, -betting, woman-animal is not a graceful object. In the days of classic -Greece and Rome, men and women “imagined” themselves to be descended -from the gods;—and however extravagant the idea, it was likely to -breed more dignity and beauty of conduct than if they had “imagined” -themselves descended from apes. A nation rounds itself to an Ideal, as -the clay forms into shape on a potter’s wheel. It is well, therefore, -to see that the Ideal be pure and lofty, and not a mere Golden Image -like that set up by King Nebuchadnezzar, who ended his days by eating -grass,—possibly thistles. Some of our public men might perhaps be -better for a little more Imagination, and a little less red tape. It -might take them healthfully out of themselves. For most of them seem -burdened with an absurd self-consciousness, which is apt to limit the -extent of their view out on public affairs. Others again are afflicted -by the hedge-hog quality of “stand-offishness” which they unfortunately -mistake for dignity. And others affect to despise public opinion, and -have a curious habit of overlooking the fact that it is the much-abused -public which sets them in office and pays to keep them there. Their -Ideal of public life and service partakes too much of Self to be nobly -National.</p> - -<p>What, after all, is Imagination? It is a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> many things. It is -a sense of beauty and harmony. It is an instinct of poetry and of -prophecy. A Persian poet describes it as an immortal sense of memory -which is always striving to recall the beautiful things the Soul has -lost. Another fancy, also from the East, is that it is “an instinctive -premonition of beautiful things to come.” Another, which is perhaps -the most accurate description of all, is that it is “the Sun-dial of -the Soul on which God flashes the true time of day.” This is true, if -we bear in mind that Imagination is always ahead of Science, pointing -out in advance the great discovery to come. Shakespeare foretold the -whole science of geology in three words—“Sermons in stones,”—and -the vast business of the electric telegraph in one line—“I’ll put a -girdle round the earth in forty minutes.” One of the Hebrew prophets -“imagined” the phonograph when he wrote “Declare unto me the image -of a voice.” As we all know, the marks on the wax cylinder in a -phonograph are “the image of a voice.” The air-ship may prove a very -marvellous invention, but the imagination which saw Aladdin’s palace -flying from one country to another was long before it. All the genii -in the Arabian Nights stories were only the symbols of the elements -which man might control if he but rubbed the lamp of his intelligence -smartly enough. Every fairy tale has a meaning; every legend a lesson. -The submarine boat in perfection has been “imagined” by Jules Verne. -Wireless telegraphy appears to have been known in the very remote days -of Egypt, for in a rare old book called <i>The History of the Pyramids</i>, -translated from the Arabic, and published in France in 1672, we find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -an account of a certain high priest of Memphis named Saurid,—who, so -says the ancient Arabian chronicler, “prepared for himself a casket -wherein he put magic fire, and shutting himself up with the casket, he -sent messages with the fire day and night, over land and sea, to all -those priests over whom he had command, so that all the people should -be made subject to his will. And he received answers to his messages -without stop or stay, and none could hold or see the running fire, so -that all the land was in fear by reason of the knowledge of Saurid.” In -the same volume we find that a priestess named Borsa evidently used the -telephone. For, according to her history, “She applied her mouth and -ears unto pipes in the wall of her dwelling, and so heard and answered -the requests of the people in the distant city.”</p> - -<p>Thus it would seem that there is nothing new under the sun to that -“dainty Ariel” of the mind, Imagination. It sees all present things -at a glance, and foretells what is yet to come. It may well be called -the Sun-dial of the Soul; but it is a Dial that must be kept sound -and clean. There must be no crack in it,—it must not be allowed to -get overgrown with the slimy mosses and rank weeds of selfishness and -personal prejudice,—the index hand must be firmly set,—and none -of the numeral figures must be missing! So, perchance, shall God -flash the true time of day upon it, for such as will hold themselves -free to mark the Hour according to His will. And for those who do -thus hold themselves free,—for those who care to keep this precious -Sun-dial clear and clean in their souls, there shall always be light -and love,—and such clear reflections of divine beauty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> and peace as -are described by the “Ettrick Shepherd” in his story of <i>Kilmeny in -Fairyland</i>:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>For Kilmeny had been, she knew not where,</div> -<div>And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare;</div> -<div>But it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung,</div> -<div>And the airs of heaven played round her tongue!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE POWER OF THE PEN</h2> - -<p>The dignity of Literature is, or used to be, something more than a -mere phrase. Days there were in the long-ago, when the thinkers and -writers of a nation were held to be worthy of higher honour than -trade-kings and stock-jobbers,—when each one that shone out was “a -bright particular star” of genius, as frankly owned as an object -of admiration in the literary firmament. At that time there was -no “syndicated” press. The followers and disciples of Literature -were not all herded together, as it were, in a kind of scribbling -trades-union. The poet, the novelist, the essayist,—each one of -these moved in his or her own appointed orbit, and their differing -special ways of handling the topics of their time served to interest, -charm and stimulate the intelligences of people who were cultured and -appreciative enough to understand and honour their efforts. But now -things are greatly changed. What has been generally understood as -“cultured” society is rapidly deteriorating into baseness and voluntary -ignorance. The profession of letters is so little understood, and -so far from being seriously appreciated, that responsible editors -will accept and publish magazine articles by women of “title” and -“fashion,” who prove themselves as ignorant of grammar as they are of -spelling. The printer’s reader corrects the spelling, but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> grammar -is generally left as its “aristocratic” writer penned it, in majestic -incompleteness. The newspapers are full, not of thoughtful, honestly -expressed public opinion on the affairs of the nation, but of vapid -“personalities,” interesting to none save gossips and busy-bodies. A -lamentable lack of strength is apparent in the whole “tone” of modern -Literature, together with a still more lamentable lack of wit. All -topics, say the pessimists, are exhausted. The quarrels of politicians -have exhausted earth,—the recriminations of the Churches have -exhausted Heaven,—and the bold immoralities of society have, almost, -if not quite, exhausted Hell. Yet the topic which holds in itself a -great many of the pleasures of earth and heaven—with perhaps a touch -of the other nameless place also, is still the Power of the Pen. It -remains, even in these days, the greatest power for good or evil in -the world. With the little instrument which rests so lightly in the -hand, whole nations can be moved. It is nothing to look at; generally -speaking it is a mere bit of wood with a nib at the end of it—but when -it is poised between thumb and finger, it becomes a living thing—it -moves with the pulsations of the loving heart and thinking brain, and -writes down, almost unconsciously, the thoughts that live—the words -that burn.</p> - -<p>To the power of the Pen we owe our laws, our government, our -civilization, our very religion. For without it we should have no -Bible—no New Testament. Our histories, our classics, our philosophies, -our poetry, would all be lost with their originators. We should not -know that Julius Cæsar ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> walked on the shores of Britain, or that -Nero fiddled while Rome was burning. In fact we should still be in -the dark ages, without so much as a dream of the magnificent era of -progress through which we have come, and in which we, of this present -generation, have our glorious share. And so I think and venture to -say that the power of the Pen is one which commands more millions of -human beings than any monarch’s rule, and that the profession of the -pen, called Literature, is the greatest, the highest, and the noblest -that is open to aspiring ambition. Empires, thrones, commerce, war, -politics, society—these things last but their brief hour—the Power of -the Pen takes note of them as they pass—but outlives them all!</p> - -<p>We should know nothing to-day of the grandeurs of old Egypt, or the -histories of her forgotten kings, if it were not for the Rosetta -stone—on which the engraver’s instrument, serving as a pen, wrote the -Egyptian hieroglyphics beside the Greek characters, thus giving us -the clue to the buried secrets of a long past great civilization. The -classic land of Greece, once foremost in all things which make nations -great, particularly in the valour and victorious deeds of her military -heroes, has almost forgotten her ancient glory—she might perhaps be -forgotten by other nations altogether in the constant springing up of -new countries and peoples if it were not for Homer! The blind, despised -old man, who sang her golden days of pride and conquest, still keeps -her memory green. And let us not forget that other glorious poet, who -laid his laurel-wreath and life upon her shrine—our own immortal -Byron—whose splendid lyric,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> “The Isles of Greece” may stand beside -the finest lines of Homer, and not be shamed.</p> - -<p>What does all Italy, and particularly Florence, make chief boast of -to-day? Not commerce, not wealth—simply Dante! In his lifetime he was -made a subject for hatred and derision—he was scorned, cast out, and -exiled by his fellow-townsfolk—yet now he is the great glory of his -native city which claims respect from all the world for having been the -birthplace of so supreme a soul. So, even after death, the Power of the -Pen takes its revenge, and ensures its just recognition.</p> - -<p>Yet there are many workers in Literature who say that the Power of -the Pen gives them no joy at all,—that it is a “grind,”—that it is -full of disappointment and bitterness, and that they never get paid -enough for what they do. This last is always a very sore point with -them. They brood on it, and consider it so often, that by and by the -question of how much or how little payment they get, becomes the only -way in which they regard their profession. It is the wrong way. It is -the way that leads straight to biliousness and chronic dyspepsia. It is -not my way. To me, what little power of the pen I possess, is a magic -talisman which I would not exchange for millions of money. It makes -life beautiful for me—it intensifies and transfigures all events and -incidents—it shows me a whole history in the face of a child—a whole -volume of poetry and philosophy in the cup of a flower. It enables -me to see the loveliness of nature with keener and more appreciative -gratitude—and it fills me with an inward happiness which no outward -circumstance can destroy. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of course just payment is to be demanded and expected for every kind -of work. The rule of “give and take” holds good in all classes of -employment. Each author’s power of the pen commands its price according -to the value set upon it by the public. But I, personally, have refused -many considerable sums of money offered to me if I would consent to -“work up” or “bring forward” certain schemes and subjects with which -I have no sympathy. The largest cheque would never tempt me to write -against my own inclination. If I were given such a choice as this—to -write something entirely opposed to my own feeling and conscience for -a thousand pounds, or to write my honest thought for nothing, I would -write my honest thought, and let the thousand pounds go. I am glad to -say that some of my contemporaries are with me in this particular form -of literary faith—but not as many as, for the honour of our calling, I -could desire.</p> - -<p>Then again, there is that vexed question of—the Public! I have often -noticed, with a humility too deep for words, that all the great modern -writers, or, I should say, all those who consider themselves the -greatest, have a lofty contempt for the public. “‘He,’ or ‘she’ writes -for the Public,” is a remark which, when spoken with a withering sneer, -is supposed to have the effect of completely crushing the ambitious -scribbler whose Power of the Pen has attracted some little attention. -Now if authors are not to write for the Public, who are they to write -for? Certain of the “superior” folk among them will say that they write -“for posterity.” But then, Posterity is also the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> Public! I really -do not see how either the great or the small author is to get away -from the Public anyhow! There is only one means of escape, and that -is—not to write at all. But if those to whom the Power of the Pen is -given, wish to claim and use their highest privileges, they will work -always for the public, and try to win their laurels from the public -alone. Not by the voice of any “clique,” “club,” or “set” will Time -accept the final verdict of an author’s greatness, but by the love and -honour of an entire people. Because, whatever passing surface fancies -may for awhile affect the public humour, the central soul of a nation -always strives for Right, for Justice, and for final Good, and the -author whose Power of the Pen helps strongly, boldly, and faithfully on -towards these great ends, is not, and shall not be, easily forgotten.</p> - -<p>I hope and I believe, that it is only a few shallow, ignorant and -unsuccessful persons—fancying perhaps that they have the Power of the -Pen when they have it not—who, in their disappointment, take a sort -of doleful comfort in “posing” as unrecognized geniuses, whose quality -of thought is too fine,—they would say too “subtle”—for the public -taste. For, in my humble opinion, nothing is too good for the Public. -They deserve the very best they can get. No “scamp” work should ever -be offered to them. If a poet sings, let him sing his sweetest for -them; if a painter paints pictures, let him give them his finest skill; -if an author writes stories, essays or romances, let him do his very -utmost to charm, to instruct, to awaken their thought and excite their -interest. It is not a wise thing to start writing for “posterity.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -Because, if the present Public will have nothing to do with you, it is -ten to one whether the future will. All our great authors have worked -for the public of their own immediate time, without any egotistical -calculations as to their possible wider appreciation after death.</p> - -<p>The greatest poet in the world, William Shakespeare, was, from all we -can gather, an unaffected, cheery, straightforward Warwickshire man, -who wrote plays to please the Public who went to the Globe Theatre. -He did not say he was too good for the Public; he worked <i>for</i> the -Public. He attached so little importance to his own genius, that he -made no mention of his work in his will. So we may fairly judge that he -never dreamed of the future splendour of his fame—when, three hundred -years after his death, every civilized country in the world would have -societies founded in his name; when, year after year, new discussions -would be opened up concerning his Plays, new actors would be busy -working hard to represent his characters, and, strangest compliment of -all, when envious persons would turn up to say his work was not his -own! For when genius is so varying and brilliant that a certain section -of the narrow-minded cannot understand its many-sided points of view, -and will not believe that it is the inheritance of one human brain, -then it is great indeed! Three hundred years hence there will, no -doubt, be other people to announce to the world that Walter Scott did -not write, and could not have written, the Waverley Novels. For they -are—in their own special way—as great as the plays of Shakespeare. -He, too, was one of those who wrote for the Public.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> With his magic -wand he touched the wild mountains, lakes and glens of his native -land, and transfigured them with the light of romance and beauty for -ever. Can we imagine Scotland without Walter Scott and Robert Burns? -No! Their power of the pen rules the whole country, and gives it over -the heads of monarchs a free fairy kingdom to all classes and peoples -who have the wish and will to possess it. There are certain superior -people nowadays who declare that Walter Scott is “old-fashioned,” and -that they, for their parts, cannot read his novels. Well, I grant that -Walter Scott <i>is</i> old-fashioned—as old-fashioned as the sunshine—and -just as wholesome. He lived in a time when men still reverenced women, -and when women gave men cause for reverence. I think if he could be -among us now, and see the change that has come over society since his -day, he would scarcely have the heart to write at all. The idolatry -of wealth—the servile worship of the newest millionaire—would -hardly inspire his pen, save perhaps to sorrow and indignation. But -if he were with us and did write for us, I am sure he would employ -some of his great power to protest against the lack of fine feeling, -gentleness, forbearance and courtesy which unfortunately marks much of -our latter-day society. I think he would have something to say about -the school-girl who smokes,—I fancy his mind might revolt against the -skirt-dancing peeress! I think he would implore women not to part with -their chief charm—womanliness—and I am sure he would be very sorry to -see children of ten and eleven so deplorably “advanced” as to be unable -to appreciate a fairy tale. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> - -<p>And what of dear Charles Dickens—he, whom certain superfine persons -who read Yellow Journalism presume to call “vulgar”? Is love, is pity, -is tenderness, is faith “vulgar”? Is kindness to the poor, patience -with the suffering, tolerance for all men and all creeds “vulgar”? -If so, then Charles Dickens <i>was</i> vulgar!—not a doubt of it! Few -authors have ever been so blessedly, gloriously “vulgar” as he! What -marvellous pictures his “power of the pen” conjures up at once before -our eyes!—pathetic, playful, humourous, thrilling—rising to grandeur -in such scenes as the shipwreck in <i>David Copperfield</i>; or that -wonderful piece of description in the <i>Tale of Two Cities</i>, when the -tramping feet of the Spirit of the French Revolution sweep past in the -silence of the night! Match us such a passage in any literature past or -present! It is unique in its own way—as unique as all great work must -be. There is nothing quite like it, and never will be anything quite -like it. And when we “go” with such great authors as these—and by this -I mean, when we are determined to be one with them—we shall win such -victories over our hearts and minds, our passions and desires, as shall -make us better and stronger men and women.</p> - -<p>And this brings me to a point which I have often earnestly considered. -One cannot help noticing that the present system of education is fast -doing away with two great ingredients for the thorough enjoyment of -life, and especially the enjoyment of Literature—Imagination and -Appreciation. On the school-boy or school-girl who is “coached” or -“crammed,” the gates of fairyland and romance are shut with a bang. I -had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> once the pleasure of entertaining at my house a small gentleman -of eleven, fresh from his London College—he was indifferent to, or -weary of life; things generally, were a “bore,” and he expressed his -opinion of fairy tales in one brief word, “Rot!” Now altogether apart -from that most revolting expression, which is becoming of frequent use, -especially in the “upper circles,” it seemed to me a real misfortune -to consider, that for this child, Hans Andersen was a sealed book, and -the wonders and beauties of the <i>Arabian Nights</i> a lost world. And in -the same way I pity the older children—the grown men and women, who -cannot give themselves up to the charm or terror of a book completely -and ungrudgingly—who approach their authors with a carping hesitation -and a doubtful preparatory sneer. By so doing they shut against -themselves the gate of a whole garden of delights. Imagination is the -supreme endowment of the poet and romancist. It is a kind of second -sight, which conveys the owner of it to places he has never seen, -and surrounds him with strange circumstances of which he is merely -the spiritual eyewitness. One of the most foolish notions prevalent -nowadays is that an author must personally go and visit the place he -intends to describe. Nothing is more fatal. For accuracy of detail, -we can consult a guide book—but for a complete picture which shall -impress us all our lives long, we must go to the inspired author whose -prescience or second-sight enables him to be something more than a mere -Baedeker. Endless examples of this second-sight faculty could be given. -Take Shakespeare as the best of them. He could never have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>personally -known Antony and Cleopatra. He did not live in the time of Julius -Cæsar. He was not guilty of murder because he described a murder in -<i>Macbeth</i>. He could not have been a “fellow-student” of Hamlet’s. And -where do you suppose, among the grim realities of life, he could have -met those exquisite creations, Ariel and Puck, if not in the heaven -of his own peerless imagination, borne to him on the brilliant wings -of his own thought, to take shape and form, and stay with us in our -English language for ever! Walter Scott had never seen Switzerland when -he wrote <i>Anne of Geierstein</i>. Thomas Moore never visited the East, -yet he wrote <i>Lalla Rookh</i>. Charles Dickens never fought a duel, and -never saw one fought, yet the duel between Mr. Chester and Haredale in -<i>Barnaby Rudge</i> is one of the finest scenes ever written. Because an -author is able to describe a certain circumstance, it does not follow -that he or she has experienced that very circumstance personally. Very -often it may be quite the contrary. The most romantic descriptions -in novels have often been written by people leading very hum-drum, -quiet lives of their own. We have only to think of <i>Jane Eyre</i>, and to -remember the prosy, dull days passed by its author, Charlotte Brontë.</p> - -<p>To refer once more to Hans Andersen—we all know that he never -could have seen a Dresden China shepherdess eloping up the chimney -with a Dresden China sweep. We know he never saw that dainty little -shepherdess weeping on the top of a chimney because the world was so -large, and because all her gilding was coming off. But when we are -reading that fantastic little story, we feel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> he <i>must</i> have seen it -somehow, and we are conscious of a slight vexation that we never see -such a curious and delightful elopement ourselves. This is a phase of -the power of the pen—to make the beautiful, the quaint, the terrible, -or the wonderful things of imagination seem an absolute reality.</p> - -<p>But to get all the enjoyment out of an author’s imagination, we, who -read his books, must ourselves “imagine” with him. We must let him take -us where he will; we must not draw back and refuse to go with him. -We must not approach him in a carping spirit, or make up our minds -before opening his book, that we shall not like it. We should not -allow our particular views of life, or our pet prejudices to intervene -between ourselves and the writer whose power of the pen may teach us -something new. And above all things, we should prepare ourselves to -appreciate—not to depreciate. Nothing is easier than to find fault. -The cheapest sort of mind can do that. The dirty little street-boy can -enter the British Museum and find fault with the Pallas Athene. But -the Pallas Athene remains the same. To be Pallas Athene is sufficient. -The power of appreciation is a great test of character. To appreciate -warmly, even enthusiastically, is generally the proof of a kind and -sunny disposition; to depreciate is to be in yourself but a sad soul at -best! For depreciation in one thing leads to depreciation in another; -and by and by the daily depreciator finds himself depreciating his -Maker, and wondering why he was ever born! And he will never find -an answer to that question till he changes his humour and begins to -appreciate; then, and only then, will life explain its brightest -meaning. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> - -<p>Of course, when vulgarity, coarseness, slang, and ribaldry are set -forward as “attractions” in certain books and newspapers, it is -necessary to depreciate what is not the power of the pen, but the abuse -of the pen. Such abuse is easily recognizable. The libellous paragraph, -the personal sneer, the society scandal—there is no need to enumerate -them. But we do not call the writers of these things authors, or even -journalists. They are merely on a par with the anonymous letter-writer -whom all classes of society agree in regarding as the most contemptible -creature alive. And they do not come at all under the heading of the -power of the pen, their only strength being weakness.</p> - -<p>I have already said that I believe the Power of the Pen to be the -greatest power for good or evil in the world. And I may add that this -power is never more apparent than in the Press. The Press nowadays is -not a literary press; classic diction and brilliancy of style do not -distinguish it by any means. It would be difficult to find a single -newspaper or magazine to which we could turn for a lesson in pure and -elegant English, such as that of Addison, Steele or Macaulay. But in -the Scott or Byron days, the Press was literary to a very great extent, -and as a natural consequence it had a powerful influence on the success -or failure of an author’s work. That influence is past. Its work to-day -deals, not with books, but with nations.</p> - -<p>National education, progressing steadily for years, has taught the -Public to make up its own mind more quickly than ever it did before, as -regards the books it reads. It will take what it wants and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> leave the -rest; and the Press can neither persuade it nor repel it against its -own inclination. So that the author in these days has more difficulties -and responsibilities than in the past. He has to fight his battle -alone. He has many more rivals to compete with, and many more readers -to please. And the Press cannot help him. The Press may recommend, may -even “boom” his work; but several instances have occurred lately where -such recommendation has not been accepted. For, sometimes the Public -fight shy of a “boom.” They think it has been worked up by the author’s -friends, and they are not always mistaken. And they silently express -the fact that they are quite capable of choosing the books they wish -to read, without advice or assistance. This being the case, the Press -is beginning to leave books and authors alone to shift for themselves -as best they may, and is turning to other pastime. Nations, peoples, -governments! These are the great footballs it occasionally kicks in -the struggle for journalistic pre-eminence. And I hope I shall not be -misunderstood if I venture to say that it is a somewhat dangerous game! -Because, however powerful the Press may be, it is not the People. It is -the printed opinion of certain editors and their staff. The People are -outside it altogether. And if some one on the Press insults a monarch -or a nation, that insult should not be taken as a People’s insult. It -is the insult of the editor or proprietor who deliberately allows it to -be printed in the particular journal he controls.</p> - -<p>It is a thousand pities, for example, that a section of the lower -<i>boulevard</i> press in Paris should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> accepted in any quarter, as being -representative of the feeling of the whole French people. When flippant -and irresponsible newspaper scribes resort to calumny for the sake -of notoriety, they prove themselves unworthy to be trusted with the -Power of the Pen. In any case it can only be a God-forsaken creature -who seeks to earn his living by scurrility. Such an one may excite -individual contempt, but does not merit the notice of a great nation.</p> - -<p>As an author and as a lover of literature, I care very much for the -honour and dignity of the British Press, and I cannot but earnestly -deprecate the too free exchange of petty or malicious innuendo between -foreign and English writers on their various respective journals. -Bismarck used to say, “The windows which our Press breaks we shall have -to pay for.” The power of the pen is abused when <i>such</i> windows are -broken as can only be mended by the sufferings of nations. If France -or Germany sneers at us, or misreads our intentions, I do not see that -we are called upon to sneer at them in return. That is mere schoolboy -conduct. Our dignity should shame their flippancy. The Press of such an -empire as Great Britain can afford to be magnanimous and dignified. It -is too big and strong a boy to throw stones at its little brothers.</p> - -<p>On such a subject as the Power of the Pen, one might speak endless -discourses, and write endless volumes, for it is practically -inexhaustible. It is a power for good and evil—as I have said—but the -author wrongs his vocation if he does not always, most steadfastly and -honestly, use it for Good. The Power of the Pen should define Right -from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> Wrong with absolute certainty,—it should not so mix the two -together that the reader cannot tell one from the other. In what is -called the “problem” novel or the “problem” play, the authors manage so -to befuddle the brains of their readers, that they hardly know whether -virtue is vice or vice virtue. This is putting the power of the pen to -unfair and harmful uses. And when a writer—any writer—employs his -or her power to promote the spirit of Atheism and Materialism, the -pen is turned into a merely murderous tool of the utmost iniquity. -And whosoever uses it in this sense will have to answer at a Higher -Tribunal for much mischief and cruelty wrought in the world.</p> - -<p>Many people are familiar with Shakespeare’s town, Stratford-on-Avon, -quaint and peaceful and beautiful in itself, and in all its -surroundings. Outside it, many roads lead to many lovely glimpses of -landscape; but there is one road in particular which winds uphill, -and from which, at certain times, the town itself is lost sight of, -and only the tapering spire of Holy Trinity Church—Shakespeare’s -Church—can be seen. Frequently at sunset, when the rosy hue of the -low clouds mingles with the silvery mist of the river Avon, all the -houses, bridges and streets are veiled in an opaque glow of colour—and -look like “mirage,” or a picture in a dream. And then, the spire -of Shakespeare’s Church, seen by itself, rising clear up from the -surrounding haze, puts on the distinct appearance of a Pen,—pointing -upwards, as though prepared to write upon the sky!</p> - -<p>Often and often have I seen it so, and others have seen it with me, -glittering against clouds, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> lit up by a flashing sunbeam. I have -always thought it a true symbol of what the Power of the Pen should -be—to point upwards. To point to the highest aims of life, the best, -the greatest things; to rise clear out of the darkness and point -straight to the sunshine! For, if so uplifted, the Power of the Pen -becomes truly invincible. It can do almost anything. It can shame the -knave—it can abash the fool. It can lower the proud,—it can raise the -humble. It can assist the march of Science,—it can crush opposition. -Armed with truth and justice, its authority is greater than that of -governments,—for it can upset governments. It would seem impossible to -dethrone an unworthy king; but it has been done—by the Power of the -Pen! It is difficult to put down the arrogance of a county snob,—but -it <i>can</i> be done!—by the Power of the Pen! It may seem a terrible -task to root up lies, to destroy hypocrisies, shams, false things of -every kind, and make havoc among rogues, sensualists, and scoundrels -of both high and low degree,—but it can be done, by the Power of the -Pen! And to those who are given this power in its truest sense, is also -added the gift of prophecy—the quick prescience of things To Be—the -spiritual hearing which catches the first sound of the approaching -time. And beyond the things of time this spiritual sense projects -itself, and hears, and almost <i>sees</i>, all that shall be found most -glorious after death!</p> - -<p>With the Power of the Pen we can uphold all noble things; we can -denounce all vile things. May all who have that power so deal with -it—and point us on—and upward! For as our great poet, Tennyson, -says:— </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i2">What is true at last will tell;</div> -<div class="i2">Few at first will place thee well;</div> -<div>Some too low would have thee shine,</div> -<div>Some too high—no fault of thine!</div> -<div class="i2">Hold thine own and work thy will!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE GLORY OF WORK</h2> - -<p>Very commonplace and familiar—perhaps too commonplace and familiar -is the subject of Work. Every one worthy the name of man or woman is, -or desires to be a Worker, and none surely would voluntarily swell -the distressed ranks of the Unemployed. For to be unemployed is to be -miserable. To find nothing to do,—to be of no use to ourselves or to -our fellow-creatures is to be more or less set aside and cast out from -the ever-working Divine scheme of labour and fruition, ambition and -accomplishment. Among all the blessings which the Creator showers so -liberally upon us, there is none greater than <span class="smcap">Work</span>. And amid -all the evils which Man wilfully accumulates on his own head through -ignorance and obstinacy, there is none so blighting and disastrous as -Idleness.</p> - -<p>There are, however, certain people who have persuaded themselves to -look upon Work as a curse. Many of these pin their theories on the -Third Chapter of the Book of Genesis. There they read:</p> - -<p>“Cursëd is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all -the days of thy life.</p> - -<p>“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return unto -the ground.” </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> - -<p>But we may take comfort in the fact that the Book of Genesis shows some -curious discrepancies. For in the Second Chapter God is represented as -making <i>one</i> single man out of the dust of the ground, yet in the very -First Chapter of the same Book we read that,—</p> - -<p>“God created man in His own image; male and female created he <i>them</i>.</p> - -<p>“And God blessed <i>them</i> and said unto <i>them</i> ... Be fruitful and -multiply, and replenish the earth and <i>subdue</i> it: and have <i>dominion</i> -over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air, and over every -living thing that moveth upon the earth.”</p> - -<p>Thus we find that the story of Adam and Eve and the Serpent does -not occur till <i>after</i> the creation of mankind (in the plural) and -<i>after</i> the Divine order that this same mankind (in the plural) should -“replenish the earth and subdue it.” No “curse” accompanied this -command. On the contrary, it was sanctified by a blessing. “God blessed -them.” And whether Genesis be taken seriously, or only read as poetic -legend founded on some substratum of actual events, the fact remains -that “to replenish the earth and subdue it,” literally means,—to -<span class="smcap">Work</span>. The “dominion” of man over the planet he inhabits is not -to be gained by sitting down with folded hands and waiting for food to -drop into the mouth. It is evident that he was intended to earn his -right to live. It is also evident that the blessing of God will be his, -if from the first beginnings of conscious intelligence and aptitude he -resolutely and honestly sets his shoulder to the wheel.</p> - -<p>It is only when we are at work that we are vitally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> and essentially a -part of God’s great creative scheme. Idleness is an abnormal condition. -It is not to be found in nature. There everything works, and in the -special task allotted to it, each conscious atom finds its life and -joy. The smallest seed <i>works</i>, as it slowly but surely pushes its -way up through the soil;—the bird <i>works</i>, as it builds its nest and -forages the earth and air to find food for its young. We cannot point -to the minutest portion of God’s magnificent creation and say that it -is idle. Nothing is absolutely at rest. There is—strictly speaking—no -rest in the whole Universe. All things are working; all things are -moving. Man clamours for rest,—but rest is what he will never -get,—not even in the grave. For though he may seem dead, new forms -of life germinate from his body, and go on working in their appointed -way,—while, with the immortal part of himself which is his Soul, he -enters at once into fresh fields of labour. Rest is no more possible -than death, in the Divine scheme of everlasting progress where all is -Life.</p> - -<p>Nature is our mother, from whose gentle or severe lessons we must learn -the problems of our own lives. And whenever we go to her for help or -for instruction, we always find her working. She never sleeps. She -never has a spare moment. “Without haste, without rest” is her eternal -motto. When we, like fretful children, complain of long hours of toil, -scant wages and short holidays, she silently points us to the Universe -around us of which we are a part, and bids us set our minds “in tune -with the Infinite.” The Sun never takes holiday. With steady regularity -it performs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> its task. For countless ages it has worked without any -attempt to swerve from its monotonous round of duty. It shines on the -just and on the unjust alike; it gives life and joy equally to the gnat -dancing in its beams, as to the human being who hails its glory and -warmth as the simple expression of “a fine day.” It gets no wages. It -receives very little in the way of thanks. Its duty is so evident and -is always so well done, that by the very perfection of its performance -it has exhausted the far too easily exhausted sense of human gratitude. -Like a visible lamp of God’s love for us it generates beauty and -brightness about us wherever we go,—and it invites us to look beyond -the veil of creation to the Creator, who alone sustains the majestic -fabric of life.</p> - -<p>In some ways God Himself may be resembled to the Sun, seeing that He -receives very little of our gratitude. We are so wonderfully guided -by His wisdom that we sometimes think ourselves wiser than He. Of our -own accord we give Him scarcely any of our real working powers, and -were it not that we are all, in the mass, unconsciously swayed by His -command, the little we do give would be less. Our ideas of serving Him -too often consist in attending various sectarian places of worship -where quarrelling is far more common than brotherly love and unity. -In these places of worship we pray to Him for Ourselves and our own -concerns. We ask Him for all we can possibly think of, and we seldom -pause to consider that He has already given us more than we deserve. -It very rarely enters into our heads to realize that we are required -to show Him some return—that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> we are bound to work—no matter in how -small a degree—towards something in His vast design which has, or -shall have, its place in the world’s progress. We continue to implore -Him to work for Us,—just as if He needed our urging! We petition Him -to give us food and other material comforts,—yet if we study the laws -of Nature we shall learn that we are intended to Work for our food and -for all the things we want. We must Work for them in common with the -rest of all our fellows in the animal, bird, and insect kingdoms. What -a man does, that he has. We have no need to ask God for what He has -already given us. He has provided all that is necessary for our health -and sustenance on the earth,—but we must earn it,—deserve it,—and -take a little intelligent trouble to understand the value of it, as -well as to learn the laws by which we may gain and hold our own in -life. We must, in fact, Work. All Creation visibly shows us that God -Himself has worked and is still working. He, who has made us in “His -own Image” must have from each one of us a strong and faithful effort -to follow His Divine pre-ordained order of Labour and Progress. It may -be asked—To what does the Labour and Progress tend? The answer of our -last great Poet Laureate, Tennyson, is the best—the</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i2">One far off divine event</div> -<div>To which the whole creation moves.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Whether it be work with the hands, or work with the brain, it is work -of some kind that we must do if we would prove ourselves worthy to be -a part of the ever-working Universe. And if by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> disinclination,—or -by lethargy of mind and spirit, we decline to share in the splendid -“onward and upward” march of toil, the time comes when great Mother -Nature will accept us exactly at our own valuation. If we choose to -be no more than clods of clay, then as clods of clay she will use -us, to make soil for braver feet than our own. If, on the contrary, -we strive to be active intelligences, she will equally use us for -nobler purposes. The formation of our condition rests absolutely with -ourselves. No one person can shape the life of another. The father -cannot ensure the fortunes of his son. The mother cannot guarantee the -happiness of her daughter. Both mother and father may do their best on -these lines, but sooner or later the son and daughter will take their -own way and make their own lives. Each individual man or woman must -work out his or her own salvation. For this is the Law,—and it is a -Law divine and eternal against which there is no appeal.</p> - -<p>Let us realize, therefore, the Divine Necessity of Work,—and having -realized it let us take an honest joy in being able to do any sort of -work ourselves, no matter how humble or monotonous such work may be. -There is nothing really common even in what is called “common” work. -There is nothing undignified in the roughest labour. It is only the -“loafer” who loses both self-respect and dignity. The peasant who -turns the soil with his spade all day long is a noble and primeval -figure in the landscape, and deserves our consideration and respect. -The countless thousands of men, working in huge factories, patiently -guiding the machinery of giant looms, sweltering their very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> lives out -in the fiery heat of huge furnaces where iron and steel are shaped -for the uses of the world—these are the actual body of mankind—the -nerves, the muscles, the sinews of humanity. They represent the -nobility, the worth, the movement of the age. They are the Working -People. And the Working People of this, or of any other nation are the -People indeed—the People whose word—if they will only utter it—must -inevitably become Law.</p> - -<p>Sometimes, however, when we work,—when we perform some special round -of duty more or less monotonous, we are unlike the rest of the working -Universe. The Universe works without any grumbling at its work—but -we—well!—we rather like to grumble. We want every one to know how -hard our work is, and how badly paid we are. Many of us, who are -men, would like to pass entire days, loafing about, our hands in our -pockets, our pipes in our mouths, serving no purpose whatever in the -world save that of replenishing the till of the nearest public-house. -Others of us who are women, would love to dress up for all we are worth -and meander through the streets, staring into shop-windows and coveting -goods we have no money to buy. We forget that while we are wasting time -in this fashion, we are consuming some of the very energy that should -be at work to obtain for us whatever we desire. And we are also apt to -forget that very often those who possess what we envy,—who hold all -that we would win—have worked for it.</p> - -<p>It is of course quite true that some workers are well rewarded while -others get little if any reward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> at all. But to understand the cause -of this inequality we must examine the character of the work implied, -and the spirit in which that work is done. Is it undertaken with -cheerfulness and zeal? Or is it merely accepted as a “grind,” to be -shirked whenever possible and only half accomplished? I venture to -think that the man who loves his work,—who is content to begin at the -lowest rung of the ladder in order to master all the minutest details -of his particular trade or profession—whose Work is dearer to him -than either his wages or his dinner—is bound to be rewarded, bound to -succeed in whatever calling of life he may be. It is the half-hearted -worker who fails. It is the “scamp” worker who sticks in the rut. Every -man should do his utmost best. When he does only his half or quarter -best, he wrongs his own capability and intelligence even more than he -wrongs his employer. To “scamp” even the simplest kind of work proves -him to be out of tune with Nature. For in the natural world we find no -“scamping.” Each tiny leaf, each humble insect is as perfect in its way -as the planet itself. A midge’s wing seen through the microscope is -as brilliant and beautiful as that of a butterfly. And so,—“looking -up through Nature unto Nature’s God” we hear everywhere the Divine -command—“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy Might.”</p> - -<p>I hardly think the love of Work, for Work’s own sake, is a leading -characteristic of the workers of the present day. There is a tendency -to “rush” everything,—to get it done and over. It is a rare thing to -meet a man who is so fond of his work that he can hardly be persuaded -to leave it. Yet in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> him is the real germ of success, and with him are -the true possibilities of power. For the conscientious and painstaking -worker more often than not may become the great discoverer. In the -very earnestness with which he bends over his daily toil which may -often seem the merest monotonous drudgery, it frequently chances that a -little hint,—an unexpected clue,—is given out from the great factory -of nature, which may revolutionize a whole handicraft, or quicken a -failing industry. Nothing of value in science or art is ever vouchsafed -to the mere “hustler.” And there is by far too much “hustling,” -nowadays. I am an ardent lover of steady toil and continuous progress, -provided the progress is accompanied by the growth of beauty, goodness -and happiness, but I am no advocate of “rush” or “speed.” Nothing is -well done that is done in a hurry. Every scrap of time should be used -as a precious gift,—not snatched up and devoured. For with haste -comes carelessness and what is called “slop work.” “As long as it’s -done never mind how it’s done,” is a kind of humour that is common -enough and easily fostered. Haste by no means implies real swiftness -or attention to details. We need not draw comparisons between the -foreign workman and his British brother, because there is a maxim which -says “Comparisons are odious.” But in justice to the foreign workman, -it must be said that he often shows great intelligence and artistic -ability. Moreover that he sometimes works twelve hours a day against -the British eight, at half the British workman’s wages.</p> - -<p>But my own love for everything British is so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> deep and hearty that I -should like to see British handicraft, British art, British work of all -kinds at the head of creation. And I do most distinctly think it the -duty of every British employer of labour to provide work for British -workers first. Let the men who live in the land find means to live. -It is surely the right of the British working man to have the first -chance with a British employer. But this does not always happen. It is -a “consummation devoutly to be wished,” but it is not to be at once -realized even by schemes of fiscal policy. It is only to be attained -by the British working people themselves,—by the quality of the work -they do and the spirit in which they do it. We talk a great deal about -Education, technical and otherwise. What are the results? The fact -seems to be that when there was no compulsory Education much better -work was done. Houses were better built,—furniture was more strongly -made. Compare the brick-and-a-half “modern villa” architecture, with -its lath and plaster doors and window-frames, with the warm thick -walls and stout oak timbers of a farm or manor-house of the sixteenth -century! Put side by side the flimsy modern chair, and the serviceable -oak one, hand made in the time of our forefathers! Connoisseurs and -collectors of bric-à-brac are supposed to have a craze for “old” -things, merely because they <i>are</i> “old.” This is not altogether true. -Old things are appreciated because they are good,—because they show -evidences of painstaking and careful Work. An old oak staircase in -a house is valued as a treasure, not only for its age, but for its -artistic construction, which our best workers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> can only imitate and -never surpass. It must, I think, be conceded that our forefathers -had better conceptions of the fitting and the beautiful in some ways -of work than we have. We have only to compare the Cathedrals which -they built for the worship of God, with our uninspired ugly modern -Churches and chapels. We know that they appreciated the beauties of the -landscape, and that they loved the grand old English trees, which our -short-sighted County Councils are destroying every year. Nothing can be -more pitiful to see than the ruthless and stupid cutting down of noble -trees all over the country, under the rule that their branches shall -not hang over the road. Thus, every grateful place of shade is ruined, -as well as much natural beauty. Our ancestors, more individually free, -showed finer taste. The roofs of their houses were picturesquely -thatched or tiled, and gabled,—their eyes were never affronted by -the dull appearance of cheap slate and corrugated iron. They left us -a heritage of many lovely and lasting things; but it is greatly to be -feared that we shall not do likewise to those that come after us. We -are destroying far more than we are creating.</p> - -<p>And when we come to the higher phases of intellectual work, we find -that though we have plenty of “schools of art” we have no great -British artists such as Gainsborough, Reynolds or Romney. And though -every one is supposed to know how to read and write, we have no great -literature such as that of Shakespeare, Scott, Thackeray or Dickens. -These belonged to the days of non-compulsory Education. Poetry, too, -the divinest of the arts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> is well-nigh dead. The great poets were born -in so-called “uneducated” times. Our present system of Education is -absolutely disastrous in one respect—that of its tendency to depress -and cramp rather than to encourage the aspiring student. Its mechanical -routine works on the line of flattening all human creatures down to one -level. Originality is often “quashed.” Yet in all educational schemes -there should be plenty of room left for the natural ability of the -student or worker to expand and declare itself in some entirely new -form wherever possible.</p> - -<p>But despite our perpetual talk of the advantages of Education, here -we are to-day with plenty of schools both before and behind us, but -no very great men. And looking a long way back in history we see that -when there was no Compulsory Education at all, there <i>were</i> very great -men,—men who made the glory of England. Shall we leave anything after -us, to match their heritage? It is open to doubt. Much of our modern -work is “scamped” and badly done. And a great deal of the mischief -arises from our way of “rushing” things. We are so anxious to catch -Time by the forelock that we almost tear that forelock off. But why -such haste? What is our object? Well,—we want to make money before -we die. We want to make it, and then spend it on ourselves, or else -leave it to our children, who will no doubt get rid of it all for us -with the most cheerful rapidity. Or we want to have enough to “sit -down and do nothing.” This is some people’s idea of perfect bliss. -A servant of mine once very kindly reproached me for sticking at my -desk so long. “If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> I were a lady,” said she—“I would sit down and do -nothing.” No more cruel torture can be imagined than this. We read in -history of prisoners who, condemned to such a life, went mad with the -misery of it. The only way to live happily and healthfully is to try -with every moment of our time to accomplish something—even if it be -only a thought. Thought, as we know, crystallizes into action. Yet -very few people really think. Many get no further than to think they -are thinking. To think is a kind of Work—too hard for many folks. In -politics, for instance, some people let the Press think for them. They -cannot be bothered to do it for themselves. And when the Press makes -what is called a “corner” in any particular policy, they sometimes -submit to be “cornered.” There have been of late a great many rumours -concerning a gigantic Press “combine” which is to be formed for the -purpose of swaying the opinion of the British public and particularly -the opinion of the British working man. In other words, opinion is no -longer to be “free,” but coerced by something like a Press “Trust” -Company. Now if we are to believe this, we must likewise believe the -British public fools. And we should surely be sorry to be forced to -such a conclusion. Let us hope the British public has an opinion -of its own entirely apart from the Press, and that it will declare -that opinion bravely and openly. It is hard to imagine that it will -allow its fondness for “prize-competitions” and “puzzle-pictures” -to interfere with its common sense and honesty. I may say, however, -that I have often marvelled at the generosity with which a large -majority of people will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> insist on filling the pockets of newspaper -capitalists, by purchasing such quantities of the particular journals -which contain these puzzles and competitions. The guileless innocence -of childhood in the nursery is not more touching than the faith of the -great British public in what is called a “Picture” or “Word” puzzle. -Over this kind of thing I have seen otherwise sane though indolent -people actually <i>work</i>! Once I made a calculation of the hours spent by -a friend of mine in deciphering one of these newspaper problems, and -found that he could certainly have obtained a very fair knowledge of -French or Italian in the time, or he could have learned shorthand and -typewriting. He was successful in the competition, and received for his -pains the splendid sum of three-halfpence. It was explained to him that -there were so many successful competitors that the hundred—or thousand -pounds reward had to be divided among the crowd. Three half-pence -therefore was his legitimate share.</p> - -<p>I am no politician. I am simply a Worker—and I do such work as I -can, quite independently of sect or party. But <i>as</i> a Worker, and -looker-on at the events taking place around me, I cannot help feeling -that this dear land of ours is on the verge of a great crisis in her -history. We hear much of failing trade,—depression in this or that -quarter,—yet apart from political agitators, it seems to me that Great -Britain stands where she has always stood—at the top of the world! -Whatever influences have set her there, surely there she is. And it -is for all true workers to keep her there. It is not by what parties -or Governments will do for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> us that her position will be sustained -and strengthened,—it is by what we, in the skill and excellence of -our Work in all trades and professions, will do for Her. It is by our -determination to excel in all kinds of Work that she will hold her -own,—by our unstinted time, our ungrudging labour, our zeal, our -cheerfulness, our love for her glory that she—and ourselves—will -exist. It is necessary to “protect” her, and all things that may help -to make her stronger and greater—but sometimes the word “Protection” -may be made to apply chiefly to capitalists and “cornerers” of trade. -Herein comes the hard work of Thinking. We must Think for ourselves. -God has given us brains to work with. There is never any good reason -why we should hastily adopt the political views of certain newspaper -proprietors, who are perhaps under the impression that we have no -brains at all, and that being thus sadly deficient, we are willing -to buy their brains for a penny or a halfpenny! It is by the workers -of the land that the land lives. And more than this,—it is from the -workers that must come the great battle of Right against Might. It is -for the Workers to put to shame by their own faith and honour, the -wicked Atheism and open immorality which are disgracing some of our -so-called “upper” classes to-day—and it is for the Workers to show by -their upright, temperate lives, and their steady downright Work, that -they are determined to keep the foundations of the Home secure, and the -heart of England warm and true. What says brave Thomas Carlyle?</p> - -<p>“All true Work is sacred; in all true Work, were it but true -hand-labour, there is something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> of divineness. Labour, wide as the -Earth, has its summit in Heaven. Sweat of the brow, and up from that -to sweat of the brain, sweat of the heart—which includes all Kepler -calculations, Newton meditations, all Sciences, all spoken Epics, all -acted Heroisms, and Martyrdoms, up to that ‘Agony of bloody sweat’ -which all men have called divine! O brother, if this is not ‘worship,’ -then I say the more pity for worship, for this is the noblest thing yet -discovered under God’s sky. Who art thou that complainest of thy life -of toil? Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother!—see thy fellow -Workmen there in God’s eternity, surviving there, they alone surviving; -sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Bodyguard of the Empire of -Mankind. Even in the weak Human memory they survive so long, as saints, -as heroes, as gods, they alone surviving—peopling, they alone, the -measured solitudes of Time. To thee, Heaven, though severe, is <i>not</i> -unkind; Heaven is kind as a noble Mother—as that Spartan mother, -saying while she gave her son his shield—“With it, my son, or upon -it!” Thou too shalt return home in honour, brother Worker!—to thy far -distant Home, in honour, doubt it not, if in the battle thou keep thy -shield!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE HAPPY LIFE</h2> - -<p>Most people want to be happy if they can. I suppose it may be safely -set down without fear of contradiction that no one who is sane and -healthy wilfully elects to be miserable. Yet the secret of happiness -seems to be solved by very few. People try to be happy in all sorts of -queer ways—in speculation, land-grabbing, dram-drinking, horse-racing, -bridge-playing, newspaper-running, and various other methods which -are more or less suited to their constitutional abilities—but in -many cases these channels, carefully dug out for the reception of -a perpetual inflowing of the stream of happiness, appear very soon -to run dry. I have been asked scores of times what I consider to be -the happiest life in the world, and I have always answered without -the least hesitation—the Life Literary. In all respects it answers -perfectly to the description of the “Happy Life” portrayed by that -gentle sixteenth-century poet, Sir Henry Wotton:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>How happy is he born and taught</div> -<div class="i1">That serveth not another’s will,</div> -<div>Whose armour is his honest thought,</div> -<div class="i1">And simple truth his utmost skill.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Herein we have the vital essence of all delight—honest <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>thought -and simple truth—and in the “serveth not another’s will,” glorious -liberty. For chiefest among the joys of the Life Literary are its -splendid independence, its right of free opinion, and its ability to -express that opinion. An author is bound to no person, no place, and no -party, unless he or she wilfully elects to be so bound. To him, or to -her, all the realms of Nature and imagination are entrance-free—the -pen unlocks every closed door—and not only is the present period of -time set out like a stage-scene for contemplation and criticism, but -all the past ages, with their histories, and the rise and fall of their -civilizations, arrange themselves to command in a series of pictures -for the pleasure of the literary eye and brain; and it is just as easy -to converse in one’s own library with Plato on the immortality of the -soul as it is good-humouredly to tolerate Mr. Mallock and his little -drawing-room philosophies. For a book is more or less the expression -of the mind, or a part of the mind, of its writer, and, inasmuch -as it is only with the moral and intellectual personalities of our -friends and enemies that we care to deal, it matters little whether -such personalities be three or four thousand years old, or only of -yesterday. And to live the Life Literary means that we can always -choose our own company. We can reject commoners and receive kings, or -<i>vice versâ</i>. The author who is careful to hold and to maintain all the -real privileges and rights of authorship is a ruler of millions, and -under subjection to none. The position is unique and, to my thinking, -unequalled.</p> - -<p>There are many, of course, who will by no means<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> agree with me as to -the superior charm of the Life Literary over all other lives—and such -objectors will be found mostly in the literary profession itself. -Unsuccessful authors—particularly those who are in any way troubled -with dyspepsia—will be among them. “Tied” authors also—and by “tied” -authors I mean the unhappy wretches who have signed contracts with -publishers several years ahead, and are, so to speak, dancing in -fetters. Authors who count the number of words they write per day, -like potatoes, and anxiously calculate how much a publisher will -possibly give for them per bushel, are not likely to experience any -very particular “happiness” while they are measuring out halfpence in -this fashion. And authors who run after “society” and want to be seen -here, there, and everywhere, are bound to lose the gifts of the gods -one by one as they scamper helter-skelter through the world’s Vanity -Fair, while they may be perfectly sure that the “great” or swagger -persons with whom they seek to associate will be the first to despise -and neglect them in any time of need or trouble, as well as the last to -support or help them in any urgent cause which might be benefited by -their assistance.</p> - -<p>On this point we have only to remember the melancholy experience of -Robert Burns, who, after having been flattered and feasted by certain -individuals who were, in an ephemeral sense, influential for the time -being, either through their rank or their wealth, was afterwards -shamefully neglected by them, and finally, notwithstanding the various -social attentions and courtesy he had at one time received, he was -left, when ill and dying, in such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> extremity as to be compelled to -implore his publisher for the loan of five pounds! What had become of -all his wealthy and “influential” friends? Why they were exactly where -all “influential” persons would be now in a similar case—“otherwise -engaged” when their help is needed. Nothing can well be more deplorable -than the position of any author who depends for success on a clique -of “distinguished” or “society” persons. He or she has exchanged -independence for slavery—the nectar of the gods for a base mess of -pottage—and the true “happiness” of the Life Literary for a mere -miserable restlessness and constant craving after fresh excitement, -which gradually breeds nervous troubles, and disturbs that fine and -even balance of brain without which no clear or convincing thought is -possible. Again, authors who deliberately prostitute their talents to -the writing of lewd matter unfit to be handled by cleanly-minded men -and women need never hope to possess that happy and studious peace -which comes from the</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Pure intent to do the best</div> -<div>Purely—and leave to God the rest.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>For the highest satisfaction in the Life Literary is to think that -perhaps, in a fortunate or inspired moment, one may have written at -least a sentence, a line, a verse, that may carry comfort and a sense -of beauty to the sorrowful, or hope to the forlorn; while surely the -greatest pang would be to know that one had cast the already despairing -soul into a lower depth of degradation, or caused the sinner to revel -more consciously in his sin. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> - -<p>But are there no drawbacks, no disappointments, no sufferings in the -Life Literary? Why, of course there are! Who would be such a useless -block of stone, such a senseless lump of unvalued clay, as not to -ardently wish for drawbacks, disappointments, and sufferings? Who -that has a soul at all does not pray that it may be laid like glowing -iron on the anvil of endurance, there to be beaten and hammered by -destiny till it is of a strong and shapely mould, fit for combat, -nerved to victory? And I maintain that such drawbacks, disappointments, -difficulties, and sufferings as the profession of Literature entails -are sweeter and nobler than the cares besetting other professions, -inasmuch as they are always accompanied by never-failing consolations. -If the pinch be poverty, the true servant of Literature can do with -less of this world’s goods than most people. Luxury is not called for -when one is rich in idealism and fancy. Heavy feeding will not make a -clear, quick brain. Extravagant apparel is a necessity for no one—and -genius was never yet born of a millionaire.</p> - -<p>If the “thorn in the flesh” is the petty abuse of one’s envious -contemporaries, that is surely a matter for rejoicing rather than -grief, as it is merely the continuance of an apparently “natural law in -the spiritual world” acting from the Inferior upon the Superior, which -may be worded thus: “Whosoever will be great, let him be flayed alive!” -Virgil was declared by Pliny to be destitute of invention; Aristotle -was styled “ignorant, vain, and ambitious” by both Cicero and Plutarch; -Plato was so jealous of Democritus that he proposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> to burn up all his -works; Sophocles was brought to trial by his own children as a lunatic; -Horace was accused of stealing from all the minor Greek poets; and so -on in the same way down to our own times.</p> - -<p>Pope went so far as to make a collection of all the libels passed upon -him, and had them preserved and bound with singular care, though I -believe no one now knows where to find these scandalous splutterings -of Grub Street. Swift is reported to have said to the irate author of -the “Dunciad”: “Give me a shilling and I will ensure you that posterity -shall never know one single enemy against you excepting those whose -memory you <i>yourself</i> have preserved.” Herein is a profound truth. The -malicious enemies of a great author only become known to the public -through the mistaken condescension of the great author’s notice.</p> - -<p>Milton’s life was embittered by the contemptible spite of one -Salmasius. Who was Salmasius? we ask nowadays. We do not task who was -Milton. Salmasius was the author of the “Defensio Regi” or Defence -of Kings, a poor piece of work long ago forgotten, and he was the -procurer of foul libel against the author of “Paradise Lost,” one -of England’s greatest and noblest men. What small claim he has to -the world’s memory arises merely from his viciousness, for not only -did he make use of the lowest tools to aid him in conspiring against -Milton’s reputation, but he spread the grossest lies broadcast, even -accusing the poet of having a hideous personal appearance—“a puny -piece of man; a homunculus; a dwarf deprived of the human figure; a -contemptible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> pedagogue.” When the despicable slanderer learned the -fact that Milton, so far from answering to this description, was of a -pleasing and attractive appearance, he immediately changed his tactics -and began to attack his moral character—which, as even Milton’s -bitterest political enemies knew, was austerely above the very shadow -of suspicion. It was said that the poet’s over-zealousness in answering -the calumnies of Salmasius cost him his eye-sight, which, if true, was -surely regrettable. Salmasius died dishonoured and disgraced, as such a -cowardly brute deserved to die; Milton still holds his glorious place -in England’s literary history. So it was, so it is, so it ever will be.</p> - -<p>Greatness is always envied—it is only mediocrity that can boast of a -host of friends. “When you have resolved to be great,” says Emerson, -“abide by yourself, and do not weakly try to reconcile yourself with -the world.” It is impossible to quote one single instance of a truly -great man existing without calumniators. And the Life Literary without -any enemies would be a shabby go-cart; or, as our American cousins put -it, a “one-horse concern.” Some lines that were taught to me when I was -a child seem apposite to this subject, and I quote them here for the -benefit of any struggling units of the Life Literary who may haply be -in need:—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>You have no enemies, you say?</div> -<div class="i1">Alas! my friend, the boast is poor—</div> -<div>He who has mingled in the fray</div> -<div class="i1">Of duty, that the brave endure,</div> -<div><i>Must</i> have made foes! If you have none,</div> -<div>Small is the work that you have done;</div> -<div>You’ve hit no traitor on the hip,</div> -<div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>You’ve dashed no cup from perjured lip,</div> -<div>You’ve never turned the wrong to right—</div> -<div>You’ve been a coward in the fight!<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" >[5]</a></div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>But it is perhaps time that I should drop the masculine personal -pronoun for the feminine, and, being a woman, treat of the Life -Literary from the woman’s point of view. In olden days the profession -of literature was looked upon as a terrible thing for a woman to -engage in, and the observations of some very kindly and chivalrous -writers on this subject are not without pathos. To quote one example -only, can anything be more quaintly droll at this time of day than the -following:—</p> - -<p>“Of all the sorrows in which the female character may participate there -are few more affecting than those of an Authoress—often insulated -and unprotected in society—with all the sensibility of the sex, -encountering miseries which break the spirits of men!”</p> - -<p>This delicate expression of sympathy for a woman’s literary struggles -was written by the elder Disraeli as late as 1840. Truly we have -raced along the rails of progress since then at express speed—and -the “affecting” sorrows of an “Authoress” (with a capital A) now -affect nobody except in so far as they make “copy” for the callow -journalist to hang a string of cheap sneers upon. The Authoress must -take part with the Author in the general rough-and-tumble of life—and -she cannot too quickly learn the truth that when once she enters -the literary arena, where men are already fisticuffing and elbowing -each other remorselessly, she will be met chiefly with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> “kicks and -no ha’pence.” She must fight like the rest, unless she prefers to -lie down and be walked over. If she elects to try for a first place, -it will take her all her time to win it, and, when won, to hold it; -and, in the event of her securing success, she must not expect any -chivalrous consideration from the opposite sex, or any special kindness -and sympathy from her own. For the men will consider her “out of her -sphere” if she writes books instead of producing babies, and the -women will, in nine cases out of ten, begrudge her the freedom and -independence she enjoys, particularly if such freedom and independence -be allied to fortune and fame. This all goes without saying. It has to -be understood and accepted uncomplainingly. The “old-fashioned” grace -of chivalry to women, once so proudly lauded by poets and essayists -as the distinguishing trait of all manly men, is not to be relied on -in the Life Literary—for there it is as dead as door-nails. Men can -be found in the literary profession who will do anything to “down” a -woman in the same calling, and, if they cannot for shame’s sake do it -openly, they will do it behind her back. “’Tis pitiful, ’tis wondrous -pitiful”—for the men! But if the woman concerned has studied her art -to any purpose she will accept calumny as a compliment, slander as -a votive wreath, and “envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness” (from -which, with pious hypocrisy, the most envious and uncharitable persons -pray “Good Lord deliver us” every Sunday) as so many tokens and -proofs of her admitted power. And none of these things need disturb -the equanimity of the Life Literary. “Can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> any man cast me out of the -Universe? He cannot; but whithersoever I may go there will be the -sun and the moon, and the stars and visions, and communion with the -gods!”<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" >[6]</a></p> - -<p>Speaking as a woman, I can quite understand and appreciate all the -little difficulties, irritations, and trials incident to a woman’s -career in literature; and though I myself welcome such difficulties -as so many incentives to fresh effort, I know that there are many of -my sex who, growing weary and discouraged, are not able to adopt this -attitude. And looking back into the past, one is bound to see a host of -brilliant women done to death by cruel injustice and misrepresentation, -a state of things which is quite likely to be continued as long as -humanity endures.</p> - -<p>But no useful object is served by brooding over this apparently -incurable evil. “The noble army of martyrs” who praise the Lord in the -“Te Deum” are likely to be of the sex feminine. But what does that -matter? It is more glorious to be martyred than to die of over-eating -and general plethora. Moreover mental or intellectual martyrdom is a -necessary ingredient for the “happy” life—a touch of it is like the -toothache, helping one to be duly thankful when the pain ceases. For, -if we never understood trouble, we should never taste the full measure -of joy.</p> - -<p>One thing can be very well dispensed with by both men and women who -look for happiness in the Life Literary, and that is the uneasy -hankering after what is called “Fame.” Fame has a habit of setting its -halo on the elected brows without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> any outside advice or assistance. -Those authors who are destined for it will assuredly win it, though -all the world should intervene; those for whom it is not intended must -content themselves with the temporary notoriety of pretty newspaper -puffs and “stock” compliments, such as “the renowned” or “well-known” -or “admired” author or authoress, and be glad and grateful for these -meaningless terms, inasmuch as the higher Fame itself at its utmost is -only a brief and very often inaccurate “line in history.”</p> - -<p>The rewards and emoluments of the happy life, such as I have always -found the Life Literary to be, are manifold and frequently incongruous. -They may be considered in two sections—the outward or apparent and the -interior or invisible. Concerning these I can only, of course, speak -from my own experience. The outward or apparent occur (so far as I -myself am concerned) as follows:—</p> - -<p>1. Certain payments, small or large, made by publishers who undertake -to present one’s brain work to the world in print, and who do the best -they can for their authors, as well as for themselves.</p> - -<p>2. Public appreciation and condemnation, about equally divided.</p> - -<p>3. Critical praise and censure, six of one and half-a-dozen of the -other.</p> - -<p>4. Endless requests for autographs.</p> - -<p>5. Innumerable begging letters.</p> - -<p>6. Imperative, sometimes threatening, demands for “interviews.”</p> - -<p>7. Hundreds of love-letters.</p> - -<p>8. Continual offers of marriage. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> - -<p>9. Shoals of MSS. sent by literary aspirants to be “placed” or -“recommended.”</p> - -<p>10. Free circulation of lies, caricatures, and slanders concerning -oneself, one’s personality, friends, ways of work, and general -surroundings.</p> - -<p>11. The grudging and bitter animosity of rival contemporaries.</p> - -<p>12. Persistent public and private mis-representation of one’s -character, aims, and intentions.</p> - -<p>But all these things taken together weigh very little when compared -with the other side of the medal—the interior and invisible delight -and charm of the Life Literary—the unpurchasable and never-failing -happiness which no external advantage can give, no inimical influence -take away. It is well-nigh impossible to enumerate the pleasures that -attend the lover and servant of Literature; they are multitudinous, -and, like all things spiritual, outweigh all things temporal. Here are -just a few among the kindly and constant favours of the gods:—</p> - -<p>1. The power and affluence of creative thought.</p> - -<p>2. A perpetual sense of intimate participation in the wonders of Nature -and Art.</p> - -<p>3. A keen perception of the beautiful.</p> - -<p>4. Intense delight in the genius of all great men and women.</p> - -<p>5. A cheerful and contented spirit.</p> - -<p>6. Constant variety of occupation.</p> - -<p>7. Joy in simple things.</p> - -<p>8. The love of friends that are tried and true.</p> - -<p>9. The never-wearying interest of working to try and give pleasure to -one’s reading public.</p> - -<p>10. The gifts and glories of Imagination. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> - -<p>11. Tranquillity of mind.</p> - -<p>12. Firm faith in noble ideals.</p> - -<p>And, to quote from Walt Whitman what the inward sense of the -“happiness” of the Life Literary really is, the disciple of Literature -may say:—</p> - -<p>“I will show that there is no imperfection in the present and can be -none in the future. And I will show that, whatever happens to anybody, -it may be turned to beautiful results.”</p> - -<p>Were all the lives in the world offered to me for my choice, from the -estate of queens to that of commoners, I would choose the Life Literary -in preference to any other, as ensuring the greatest happiness. It -is full of the most lasting pleasure, it offers the most varied -entertainment, all the arts and sciences group themselves naturally -around it as with it and of it—for the literary student is, or should -be, as devout a lover of music as of poetry, as ardent an admirer -of painting and sculpture as of history and philosophy—that is, if -complete enjoyment of the literary gift is to be possessed completely.</p> - -<p>I take it, of course, for granted, in this matter of the “happy” life, -that the individual concerned, whether male or female, is neither -dyspeptic nor bilious, nor afflicted with the incurable <i>ennui</i> of -utter selfishness, nor addicted to dram or drug drinking. Because under -unnatural conditions the mind itself becomes unnatural, and the Life -Literary is no more productive of happiness than any other life that is -self-poisoned at its source. But, given a sane mind in a sound body, a -clear brain, a quick perception, a keen imagination, a warm heart, and -a never-to-be-parted-with ideal of humanity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> at its best, noblest and -purest, then the Life Literary, with all the advantages it bestows, the -continuous education it fosters, the refinement of taste it engenders, -the love and sympathy of unknown thousands of one’s fellow-creatures -which it brings, is the sweetest, most satisfying, most healthful -and happy life in the world. Moreover it is a life of power and -responsibility—a life that forms character and tests courage. We -soon learn to know the force of a Thinker in our midst, whether man -or woman. We soon realize who it is that sends the lightning of -truth across our murky sky, when we see a sudden swarm of cowards -scurrying away from the storm and trying to shelter themselves under a -haystack of lies; and we invariably respect whosoever has the valour -of his or her opinions, and the strength to enunciate them boldly and -convincingly with a supreme indifference to conventional conveniences. -For “To know the truth,” says an Arabian sage, “is a great thing for -thyself; but to tell the truth to others is a greater thing for the -world!”</p> - -<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5">[5]</a> The late Charles Mackay, LL.D.</p> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6">[6]</a> Epictetus.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE SOUL OF THE NATION</h2> - -<p>At the present time, and during the present time’s singularly loose -notions of manners, morals, and dignity of behaviour, it was perhaps -to be expected that some one or other of the daily newspapers would, -in sagacious appreciation of free “copy,” start a public discussion on -the religious faith of this Christian Empire. It was perhaps as equally -probable that considering the remarkable laxity of certain bishops -and ordained ministers of the gospel generally, a “press” question -should be put to the House of Tom, Dick and Harry—“Do We Believe?” -Granting the premises, it was hardly to be wondered at that Tom, Dick -and Harry should straightway arise in their strength and reply to the -question,—and not only Tom, Dick and Harry of the laity, but Tom, -Dick and Harry of the clergy likewise. Great was the discussion,—fast -and furious waged the war of words, and the Penny Daily which provoked -the combat was thus conveniently supplied with material for which -the proprietors,—most of them Sons of Israel,—had nothing to pay. -And now, the arguments being heard and ended, nobody is a whit the -wiser, though some few may be several whits the sadder. For to speak -honestly, nothing more reprehensible has ever smirched the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> career of -an English journal than the fact that it should have lent itself to the -advertized questioning of the nation’s religious faith. It was an open -flaunting of infidelity in the face of the civilized world. To talk -of the “conversion” of India, China or Japan, while a leading British -newspaper openly invites the notoriety-hunting section of the British -public to air their opinions of the Christian Faith in its columns, -just as if the Faith itself were on public trial in a Christian -country, is only one example of the many forms of utter Humbug in which -we are nowadays so unfortunately prone to indulge. Our sometimes-called -“heathen” ally, Japan, has lately taught us many lessons which perhaps -we knew once and have forgotten, and which perhaps we need to learn -again,—such as valour without conceit, strength without roughness, -and endurance without complaint,—but one of the greatest lessons of -all she has given us is that of her people’s pious reverence for the -Unseen and Eternal, and their belief in the ever-present “Spirits -of the Dead” whom they honour and will not shame. What a deplorable -contrast we make in our pandering to the lowest tastes of the mob when, -without a word of protest, we permit <i>our</i> “Spirits of the Dead,”—the -spirits of our gallant forefathers who fought for the pure Faith of -England and sealed it with their blood,—to be degraded and insulted by -a cheap newspaper discussion on the most private and sacred emotions -of the soul, as though such a discussion were of a character suited to -take its place among police-cases and quack medical advertisements! -True, we are constantly being made aware that the British Press is no -longer the clean,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> sane, strong and reliable institution it once was, -when “personalities” were deemed vulgar, and lies dishonourable,—and -therefore we perhaps ought not to feel very greatly surprised when -the name and possible attributes of the Almighty Creator Himself are -dragged through the purlieus of “up-to-date” journalism,—but surely -there is something very deplorable and disgraceful in the fact that -any one professing to be a follower of the Christian Faith should have -replied to what can only be termed, considering the quarter from whence -it came, an ironical demand, “Do We Believe?” The best and wisest -answer would have been complete silence on the part of the public. No -more effectual “snubbing” to the non-Christian faction could have been -given. But unfortunately there are a certain class of persons whose -prime passion is to see themselves in print, and to this end they will -commit any folly and write any letter to the newspapers, even if it -be only to state that primroses were seen somewhat early in bloom in -their back yards. And such, chiefly, were the kind of men and women who -poured themselves into the channels of the “Do We Believe?” discussion, -like water running down the streets into gutters and mains,—never -seeming to realize that to the thinking and intellectual world, their -foolish letters, addressed to such a public quarter, merely proved -their utter loss of respect for themselves, not only as professing -Christians and subjects of a Christian Empire, but as men and women. No -real follower of a Faith—any Faith—would be so lost to every sense of -decency as to discuss it in a daily newspaper. As for the clergy who -took part in the boresome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> palaver, one can only marvel at them and -ask why they did not “veto” the whole thing at once? A penny paper is -not the Hall of Pontius Pilate. As ministers of Christ they might have -protested against a modern-vulgar “mock” trial of their Master. It was -in their power to do so, and such a protest would have redounded to -their honour. At any rate, they might themselves have abstained from -joining in the foolish and unnecessary gabble. For gabble it was, and -gabble it is. No useful cause has been served thereby and no advantage -gained. The Sons of Israel have asked a question,—and some of the -unwise among professing Christians, being caught in the Israelitish -trap, have answered it. The manner in which both question was put and -answer given, was unworthy of a country where the Christian Faith is -the guiding light of the realm. Matters of religion are of course -open to discussion in the treatise or book intended for quiet library -reading, or even in the better-class magazines, but to hawk sacred -subjects of personal sentiment and national creed about in the daily -wear of newspaper columns which equally include murders, divorces, -bigamies, stocks and shares, and the general <i>débris</i> cast off as -flotsam and jetsam in the turgid waves of Mankind’s ever-recurring -mischief against itself, was to the last degree reprehensible and -regrettable. And this, if only for the possible impression likely to -be created by such an action among the peoples of those countries to -whom, with ridiculous inconsistency, we presume to send missionaries -for the purpose of “converting” them to a Creed we ourselves drag -through the mire of doubt in our daily press. Fortunately, however, the -matter, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>deplorably as it has exhibited our “religion” to the eyes of -“heathen” nations, has now come to an end. It has worked no change,—it -has strengthened no weak places,—it has helped no struggling effort -towards good. The Soul of the Nation has not been moved thereby, and -it is the Soul of the Nation—that great, silent patient and labouring -Soul with which all religion has to do,—that Soul, which the Christian -Creed, ever since it was first preached in Britain, has raised to such -a height of supremacy and power, that it needs all its reserve of sober -courage and devout humility to help it bear its honours greatly. For -has it not been said—“Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed -lest he fall!”</p> - -<p>One may look upon the innate spirit of Revivalism, exemplified in the -hysteric wave of preaching, praying and psalm-singing that has recently -spread over Wales and other districts, as so much instinctive and -natural popular rebellion against the insidious flood of atheism which -has for the past ten years been striving to poison all the channels -of man’s better health and saner condition,—rebellion too against -the apathetic coldness and shameless indifference of the ordained -clergy to the clamorous needs of those neglected “flocks” which -they are elected to serve. “Enough,” say the People, “of shams and -shows!—enough of ministers who only minister to themselves and their -own convenience!—enough of the preaching of the Gospel by men who do -not and will not fulfil a single one of its commands in their own lives -and actions! Let us have something forcible and earnest,—let us be -permitted to <i>feel</i>, even though we shout and sing ourselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> hoarse -with the emotion which has been seething in us for years,—an emotion -which we cannot explain to ourselves, but which craves, with a passion -beyond all speech, for some touch of Heaven, some closer comprehension -of that ‘After-Death,’ which God keeps back from us like a prize or a -punishment for His obedient or rebellious children! Anything is better -than the cold dead inertia of the Churches, sunk as they are in a blind -lethargy from which they only bestir themselves dully when a chance -is offered to them of engaging in some petty personal quarrel. We are -weary of priestly humbug, selfishness and inefficiency—we will gather -ourselves together and re-assert our faith in the world to come, as -true disciples of the Lord!” And whether such Revivalists elect to -march under the banner of Cocoa Cadbury, (an excellent advertisement -for Cadbury,) or any other emblazoned device of a successful trading -concern, is not a matter of much moment. Starving folk will march -anywhere,—under anything or anybody,—if they are promised nourishment -at the end of the journey. And the Soul of the Nation is, at this -present period of time, starving to the point of inanition in all forms -of spiritual food. The Good Shepherd gave His life for the sheep, but -the underlings who care not for the flock have let the wolves into the -fold.</p> - -<p>A thing which would appear to be frequently forgotten by those who hold -Governmental authority, is that the most vital, most powerful and most -active principle of a Nation is this spark of the Divine which for -want of any clearer mode of description we call the Soul. The Soul of -a single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> individual man or woman is the mere copy in miniature of the -Soul of a race, or the Soul of a world. An involuntary, half-conscious, -but nevertheless resistless impetus towards ultimate Good is the Soul’s -original quality and inborn Ideal. For, if the human weakness of the -fleshly creature impel it towards temporary phases of evil, sooner -or later the Soul will set to work to pull it out of the stifling -quagmire. Material Nature is, as we all know, a remedial agent, and -wherever mischief is wrought she seeks to amend it. Spiritual Nature -is a still stronger healer. For every injury self-inflicted or wrought -by others on the immortal Soul she has a saving balm,—and for every -inch of progress which the Soul essays to make along the lines leading -to good, she helps it forward a mile. Individuals find this out very -soon in their own personal experience,—Nations discover it more -slowly, first, because they have a longer time to live and learn than -the individual unit,—and secondly because, moving in great masses, -their periods of transit from one epoch of civilization to another -must necessarily be more laborious and difficult. But in all epochs, -in all eras, the Soul wins. The fiery leaven which is of God, works -through the lump in various strange and complex forms till the whole is -leavened. And those nations in which the Soul, or Spirit of the Ideal, -is crushed and kept down by the iron hand of Materialism, are very soon -seen to fall back in the rear of progress,—so far back indeed that -we are fain to speak of them as “decaying nations,” though of a truth -no decay is possible to them, but only temporary retrogression, which -will in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> due course revert to progress again when the Soul is once more -allowed to have its way. But Governments whose common law of procedure -is to put this Soul or “spirit of the Ideal,” in the background as a -kind of myth or chimera, and who seek to settle everything pertaining -to the interests of the people by what they term “practical” methods, -(which often prove wholly <i>un</i>practical,) are naturally prone to forget -that whatever they do, whatever they say, the busy Soul of the Nation -is altogether outside and above them, fighting for itself, often -desperately and piteously, and struggling to make use of its wings and -rise higher and ever higher despite its hobbles of iron and feet of -clay. Religion is supposed to give it this, its demanded freedom of -noble flight, and the Christian religion, above all religions in the -world, with its consoling teaching that out of sorrow cometh joy, and -out of Death is born Life, should make for the happiness and peace of -every living creature. But when the very ministers of that glorious -Faith cast doubt upon it, and live their own lives in direct opposition -to it,—when undevout and therefore limited scientists dissect a midge -of truth in order to launch a leviathan of fallacious theory,—when -there is no <span class="smaller">ONE</span> pure and simple Church of Christ where all -may meet in honest worship of His perfect Creed, but only a million -Sects which blaspheme His Divine memory by their outrageous and petty -quarrels one with the other,—it is no matter for surprise that a -strong revulsion of feeling should set in, or that the Soul of the -Nation, conceiving itself grievously wronged and neglected, should -try to find some fresh path of its own heavenward,—some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>way out of -mere Sham—in the belief that if it obeys its own instinctive desire -towards the Highest Ideal, God will not suffer it to go far astray. -For the quarrels of the Churches are the second crucifixion of Christ. -The apathy of the priesthood is the deliberate casting away to sin -of the people. Where there is no unity, there is no force; and the -divine founder of Christianity Himself has told us that a house divided -against itself shall not stand.</p> - -<p>Yet when one comes to think of it, it is the strangest thing in the -world that Christians should quarrel, seeing how plain and clear -are the instructions left to them for their guidance by the Master -whom they profess to serve. The New Testament is easy reading. Its -commands are brief and concise enough. There would seem to be no -room for discussion or difference. Why should there be followers of -Luther, Wesley, or any other limited human preacher or teacher, when -all that is necessary is that we should be followers of Christ? The -Soul of the Nation asks no more than this Gospel of Love, lovingly -imparted,—it seeks but for the one firm faith in the eternal things -which are its birthright,—a faith held purely, and wholly undoubted -by those whose high mission is to teach it to each generation in -turn,—it craves no more than that touch of heavenly sympathy which -makes the whole world kin—that holy link which binds all mankind -together in one strong knot of indissoluble spiritual belief in the -love and justice; the Unseen Force behind Creation, which will surely, -out of the verities of that same love and justice, grant us a future -life wherein will be made clear to us the reason and necessity of -our strange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> sufferings, martyrdoms, disappointments and losses in -this present mere brief episode of living. The Soul of the Nation -does not in itself ask reward for its good deeds,—nor does it weakly -complain if punishment be inflicted upon it for its evil ones,—but -it does demand justice,—it does ask why, for no conscious fault of -its own, it should be born, only to die. Were this question never to -be answered, then the mathematical exactitude with which everything, -small or great, is balanced in the universe would be a merely elaborate -scheme of unnecessary fallacy, irrationally designed for the delusion -of creatures who are not worth the trouble of deluding. No one who -is sane and morally healthy can contemplate such an idea as this for -a moment,—it follows therefore that Man, living as he does between -two Infinities, and endowed with a brain which can spiritually -consider both without reeling, must be guided by some great and -illimitably wise destiny towards ends he knows not, but which he -may be reverently permitted to believe are for his better progress, -greater happiness and higher understanding, and that he needs, out -of all things in the world, a Faith, by which his soul shall be kept -strong and pure, his mind steady, and his sympathies active. No mockery -of Christianity, such as that of Servian priests who have publicly -blessed regicides,—no cruel tyranny, such as that of the Greek Church -which dares to appeal to a God of Love while the mighty masses of the -Russian people remain steeped in misery, and are, by very wretchedness, -driven to crime,—no cold Conventionality of Form and Custom, such as -is practised in fashionable London<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> “West End” churches where society -humbugs gather together to listen smirkingly to the civil cant of other -society humbugs in surplices, who, passing for ministers of Christ, -almost fear to preach the Gospel as it was written, lest its plain -blunt truths should offend some highly-placed personage,—none of this -kind of “religion” at all is of use,—but faith,—real faith—real -aspiration—real uplifting to the Ideal of all things noble, all things -great, wise, helpful and true. This, at the present crucial moment of -time, is what the Soul of the Nation demands,—and not only the Soul -of our own beloved and glorious Nation, but the Souls of all nations -whatsoever on the globe. They stand up,—each in place, each on its -own spiritual plane,—stern, strong and beautiful;—like the fabled -statue of Memnon they face the sunrise, and at the first touch of the -first ray of glory they speak. Their voices are as thunder among the -spheres,—they demand what they deserve,—justice, hope, comfort, -uplifting! To the mystic High Altar of the Infinite and Eternal they -lift their praying hands, and to the priests of all religions they -appeal. “Give us the Way, the Truth and the Life! Cease your own -wranglings and petty disputations,—have done with mere human dogma -concerning the matters of life and death,—let us see the <span class="smaller">MAN</span>, -Christ,—He who suffered our sorrows, and knew our need,—the Brother, -the Friend, the Helper, for whom, in braver days than these, men gladly -gave their lives to sword and fire and the jaws of wild beasts,—is -there no manhood left now of such undaunted mettle?—is there not -one who will think of <span class="smaller">US</span>, the Nations, who hunger for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> -glorious vitality of Faith, which, like the blood in our veins, keeps -us warm and young and vigorous? Or must we perish in the devil-clutch -of Materialism, and go down to the depths, thrust there by the very men -who have been elected to hold us close to God? We demand our rights -in the Divine and Eternal Love!—and these rights, born in us from -the beginning, we will have, even if all present-existing human forms -and fabrics of creed go down in our struggle for the one pure faith -under whose holy influence we shall become stronger and wiser, and -better able to understand our work and place in creation! The gates of -Life shall not be shut upon us;—we will not accept the materialist’s -latter-day testimony that death shall be the end of all. For if there -be an Eternal Good we are part of its being and share in its Eternal -attributes. And we say,—we Souls of the Nations,—to all our preachers -and teachers and representatives of the Divine on earth—Lift us up! -Do not cast us down! Be yourselves the models of what you would have -<span class="smaller">US</span> become!—so shall we be willing and ready to learn from -you,—so shall we honour, love and patiently follow you. But if you, -as ministers of religion, show yourselves worse hypocrites than the -very sinners whom the law condemns, then beware of us and our just -vengeance! For you take from us our very life-blood, when you cheat us -of the hope of Heaven!”</p> - -<p>This is true. A Nation robbed of its faith, is like a human body robbed -of its heart—it has neither pulse nor motion,—it is the mere corpse -of itself lying prone in the dust of perishable waste things. And the -fact that grave retribution will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> follow the steps of those who assist -in bringing it to this doom cannot be doubted. Such retribution has -then been visited heavily on over-prosperous peoples, who, misled by -special pleaders in the cause of Materialism have set God aside out -of their countings as a non-proven quantity. The “non-proven” has -always proved itself with crushing swiftness and authority in the -fall of great powers, the shaking of great thrones, and the ruin and -degradation of great names,—while very often a calamitous climax of -misery and disaster has befallen an entire civilization and brought it -to utter decay. Such occurrences are traceable through all history, -and always appear to result from the same cause,—the crushing out of -the vital principle, the spiritual starving of the Soul of a Nation. -Heaven has not denied or diminished its bounteous nourishment and -blessing,—for, in our own day, the wonders of Science have opened out -to our view such infinite reaches of the Ideal as should double and -treble our perception of the glories yet to be unfolded to us when we -have “shuffled off this mortal coil”—while at the same time, nothing -in all our changing phases of progress has yet occurred to alter the -simple and noble teaching of Christ, or to make such instruction -otherwise than sane, pure and helpful for every man, woman and child -ever born. Indeed, it would seem with the marvellous new penetration -we have gained into the secrets of the earth, air and light, that the -Infinite Creator is approaching His creature even more nearly, with -fresh pledges of help and promise such as His Messenger brought in the -words: “Fear not, little flock,—it is your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> Father’s good pleasure to -give you the Kingdom.” And to the Soul of the Nation that “Kingdom” is -everything. In that kingdom it hopes to find all it has loved and lost, -all it has striven for and failed to win, all that it has prayed for, -wept for, worked for. Yet to-day between that aspiring Soul and its -immortal Inheritance stand two deadly enemies,—a contentious Churchdom -and a capitalized Press,—the one hypocrite, the other materialist. -And the satirical demand “Do we Believe?” is but an echo of Pilate’s -question “What is truth?”—a question immediately followed by Truth’s -crucifixion. Nevertheless the Soul of the Nation—our nation, our -empire—is becoming aware of its enemies. It is instinctively conscious -of threatening evil, and is on the alert to save Itself if others -will not save it. But its way out of the labyrinth of difficulty will -probably be neither through Church nor Press,—nor will it be aided -by “revival” meetings or Salvationist assemblies. Its path will be -cloven straight,—not crookedly; for the British Nation, above all -other nations in the world, does most easily sicken of priestly Sham -and subsidized Journalism. And the sane, strong Soul of it—that Soul -which in its native intrinsic virtue, is devoutly God-fearing, pure and -true, will find means to shake off its pressing foes and stand free. -For priestcraft and dogma are like prison chains fastened upon the -progressive spirit of humanity, and they have nothing in common with -the simple teaching of Christ, which is the only real Christianity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Butler & Tanner,<br />The Selwood Printing Works,<br />Frome, and -London.</span></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FREE OPINIONS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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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