iiilliiiiw^^ 
 
 
 ...OOKINC 
 
 VVITHl 
 
DUKE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Treasure %oom 
 
 UTUPIA 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/lookingwithinmisOOrobe 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 THE MISLEADING TENDENCIES OF 
 
 "LOOKING BACKWARD" 
 
 MADE MANIFEST. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. W. ROBERTS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 Laws of CM i lid, The Immigrants, 
 (Miracles Scientifically Considered, Etc. 
 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 A. S. BARNES & COMPANY. 
 
 1893. 
 
Copyright, 1893. 
 J. W. ROBERTS. 
 
UTDfcA 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 Eenewed America, January 1, 2027. 
 
 Inhaling the inspiring breath of the new life which 
 invigorates the nation so lately struggling in the toils 
 of a lingering death, and cheered by the resurrection 
 of all industries from the grave in which they were 
 being utterly buried, we haU the dawn of a new era of 
 progi'ess with unspeakable gladness. 
 
 How it was possible for a people once so fuU of 
 energy to become wilhng slaves, selling then- royal 
 bii'thright for a mess of pottage, is a mystery as yet 
 unexplained. That such a people could endure bond- 
 age of mind and body for three generations is still 
 more astonishing and inexplicable. 
 
 The object of this work is to throw light upon this 
 enigmatical problem, warn fellow-citizens of the danger 
 that threatens them from the alluring delusion which, 
 like an ignis fatutis, is leading them along the shppery 
 path of ruin, and prevent any such catastrophe ever 
 overtaking our lieloved country in the futm'C. 
 
 Let the stern and hard facts speak for themselves as 
 they are uttered by those who relate their own sad 
 experiences in these pages. Let the truth cut its onward 
 way, and all delusions and so2)histries perish at its touch. 
 
 '' The righteous shall understand," but the " wicked 
 shall pass on and be punished." 
 
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER. 
 
 I HAD the distinguished honor of being- born a' citizen 
 of the United States of America — that laud of great 
 boasters, grandiloquent orators, financial quacks, and 
 phenomenal progress. But as I had no part nor lot in 
 the antecedents of this to me important event, I am 
 entitled to no credit whatever in connection therewith. 
 It was one of those accidents or incidents of being for 
 which the individual most concerned is entitled to 
 neither condemnation nor appi'oval. As far as subse- 
 quent developments have thrown light uj^on the sub- 
 ject, it may be regarded as an unexplained mystery 
 why I came into the world at all. 
 
 I have heard my respected and revered parents, who 
 were responsible for my advent upon " time's mundane 
 sphere," declare that I was subject to the ordinary ail- 
 ments and contingencies incident to infantile and child- 
 hood life ; that many a night they were deprived of 
 needed rest because of my innate disposition to l)e 
 restless, which manifested itself in needlessly loud and 
 prolonged demands for attention and relief, accom- 
 panied by kicks and cries for redress, wlrich neither 
 paregoric nor catnip tea was always efficacious to siq)- 
 press or ameliorate. Then foUowed chicken-pox, mea- 
 sles, mumps, whooping-cough, and other post-teething 
 ailments to which humanity has been subjected since 
 
 i 
 
2 LOOKING WITHIN'. 
 
 sonio j)onod in the niis^ty past to wliioli tlie memory or 
 knowledge of man runneth not. 
 
 Having run the gauntlet of all tliese juvenile ex- 
 periences, some of which came late enough to leave a 
 vivid impression uj)on my own memory, I at length 
 merged into the second state of an uneventful cai*eer, 
 and became one of that uhicjuitous class of the yeuns 
 homo kno"s\Ti as " Young America." 
 
 As a tribute of respect to my immediate progenitors 
 I gratefully record the fact that in consequence of 
 tlieii* earefid training and vigilant watchfulness, I did 
 not fall into many of the excesses of that class of rest- 
 less aspu-ants for fame or notoriety, which accounts 
 for the fact that I have never been arrested for crimes 
 or misdemeanoi-s, have committed neither murder nor 
 suicide, nor seen the inside of a prison except as visitor 
 or spectator. Nor have I sought distinction by be- 
 coming a bandit or a cowboy (i hi dime novel. Escap- 
 ing all these contingencies of becoming a "hero" may 
 account for the uneventfid. character of an inconspicu- 
 ous life. 
 
 Being a citizen of this great American rei)ublic, I 
 have l)een somewhat of a cosmopolitan. My ac(juaint- 
 ance and o])servation have taken in city and rm-al life. 
 I have mingled with unsophisticated youth of the 
 country and with fashiona1)le devotees of metropolitan 
 societ}'. I have sympathized with the timid and bash- 
 ful maiden on the farm as she nuide her modest and 
 unostentatious entrance into the realm of wonumhood. 
 I have witnessed the glitter and glare of the costly 
 dt'lmf of the young lady of wealth into the arena of the 
 ••first circle" of the ('life. I have ccmversed with the 
 man <»f millions and witli the daily toiler who "eats 
 his bread in the sweat of his face." I have seen much 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 3 
 
 of that class whose happy condition is described as the 
 "golden mean" of "neither riches nor poverty." Nor 
 have I failed to interview even the tramp who by pref- 
 erence or necessity becomes a wandering- vagabond or 
 an unfortunate outcast. 
 
 Having thus personally familiarized myself with the 
 various phases of the " social compact," I perhaps fool- 
 ishly considered myself competent to form a fair and 
 impartial opinion of the condition and environments 
 of humanity in this lauded "land of the free and home 
 of the brave." At any rate, I felt quite sure I knew as 
 much on the subjects and questions of exciting discus- 
 sion concerning these matters as any one who did not 
 know more than I knew. 
 
 That something was radically wrong and out of 
 harmony witli the best interests of the race seemed 
 apparent on the face of things. Wliether these evils 
 were inherent in man himself, and hence in a measure 
 inei;adicable ; or whether they were the result of de- 
 fects in the laws of society and the rule of government, 
 and therefore remedial ; or whether they were the out- 
 growth of both these causes, and for that reason partly 
 open to redress and partly not — were questions of pro- 
 found depth and interest, demanding the calmest de- 
 liberation and most profound consideration of the best 
 minds possessed of the widest information. And yet 
 men without knowledge, with the merest smattering 
 of intelligence, rushed upon the scene with panaceas 
 for aU the evils of the world and quack nostrums to 
 cui-e all the " ills that flesh is heir to." 
 
 Being thus in touch with humanity on all sides, from 
 infancy to manhood, I venture to place before the great 
 public the following pages, which contain a more am- 
 ple and enlarged view of the great arena upon which 
 
4 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 the momentous problems of liiiman destiny are bein^? 
 wrought, and ask for the same a candid consideration 
 and such verdict as may be justly rendered, tempered 
 with that mercy we may all fairly claim by reason of 
 our own. imperfections and the chai'aeter of our compli- 
 cated environments. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 I WAS iDorn on a farm adjoining one of the large in- 
 land manufacturing cities of the United States. My 
 parents at the date of my bii'th were in moderate cir- 
 cumstances. They owned the premises upon which 
 they resided, which was a good-sized farm, well stocked 
 and improved. But they felt the need of close apph- 
 cation and imtiring labor in order to tide over the 
 crisis of existing conditions. My father had made 
 some investments about the time of my advent into 
 the family from which he hoped much in the futm-e, 
 but which might turn out unfortunate, or be slow to 
 appreciate if fortunate in the end. These outlays had 
 exhausted all the money he had accumulated in the 
 past by years of toil and prudent economy. In view 
 of any possible contingencies he realized the prudence 
 and necessity of making as much as possible out of 
 present time, strength, and opportunities, lest the e\dl 
 day might come and find him unprepared to meet its 
 urgent calls. The farm was the only possession he 
 could now occupy and employ for present needs and 
 future possible contingencies. 
 
 Accordingly, when only eight years old I was re- 
 quired to do light work about the house and in the 
 garden to avoid the expense of hiring an extra hand. 
 From ten to fifteen years of age I was put through the 
 more advanced stages of labor on the farm, like other 
 boys brought up in like manner. I was not particu- 
 
 5 
 
6 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 lurly faseiuatL'd with tLis exijerieiiee, Imt imder the 
 wise instruction of my parents I tried to do my part 
 well and faithfully. My fir.st g^-adiiation, therefore, 
 Avas in the school of labor. My father, who was well 
 qualified to judge in such matters, said I need not be 
 asliamed of my diploma, which was some compensa- 
 tion for the rather tii'esome hom'S of toil. 
 
 This experience in the ai'ena of labor was of value 
 to me in after-years, notwithstanding the immaturity 
 of judgment at that time of life. 
 
 During this period of existence I attended the city 
 schools, wliich were ably conducted, during the time I 
 could be spared from the fai'm, which was from four to 
 six months every year. I was ambitions to excel in my 
 studies; but as my associates in school had from two 
 to fom* mouths more time in the schooh-oom than fell 
 to my lot, it was difficult for me to " keep up with the 
 procession," as the phrase went. Indeed, the buniing 
 desire of my heart to be at the head of my classes 
 never could have been realized but for the aid of my 
 mother, who was finely educated, and she fully entered 
 into sympathy with me in my aspirations to excel. 
 
 She instructed me at home, assisted me in practice 
 and drill, conducted me through examinati<jus in ad- 
 vance, and so kindled me with enthusiasm that I felt 
 I could do anji:hing with her help. Her words of 
 encouragement quickened my pulses, stimulated my 
 powers, made me feel at times as if I were invincible. 
 
 Oh, to that mother, now sainted in heaven, whose 
 memory is more precious to me than rubies, I owe 
 everything that is worthy or valuable in me. 
 
 My father was a college gi-aduate and a man of 
 liroad culture and much experience, and greatly as- 
 sisted in my training. He possessed a good library of 
 
LOOKING WITPIIN. 7 
 
 well-selected books on a wide range of snbjeets, with 
 the latest cyclopedias, so that I had many advantages 
 and tried to improve them. 
 
 My second graduation was from the city schools, 
 with full grade and honorable mention by the superin- 
 tendent. 
 
 "While thus attending school, I became acquainted 
 with a girl student two years my junior in age, whose 
 father was a, manufacturer in the city. His residence 
 at that time was out toward my father's farm, so that 
 we children traveled the same street to and from school 
 each day, and were frequently thrown together. This 
 gave me many opportunities of rendering her little 
 services, for which she always thanked me pleasantly. 
 Judged by my standard, she was the handsomest girl 
 in school, and I was natvirally attracted to her. But 
 she was shy and I was bashful, so that our friendship 
 was at arm's length, so to speak, and did not progress 
 to close relationship very rapidly. Without being able 
 to account for the fact, I could be more free with any 
 other gui in school than with this one, whom I es- 
 teemed more highly than any other. This may have 
 been " boyish love," but I did not stop to analyze the 
 feeling while I felt the attraction. She was an excel- 
 lent student, uniformly kind to all her associates, and 
 a general favorite. But she was simple and unaf- 
 fected in manner, and a real lady, young as she was, 
 in deportment. I instinctively knew she had a good 
 mother. 
 
 Her presence always inspired me to do my best, 
 whether in school or on the playground. I cared more 
 for her approval than for the approbation of all the 
 rest of the school combined. Her name was Efifie, and 
 somehow the name and its possessor became associated 
 
8 LOOKING ^^^THIX. 
 
 and bleruk'd iu my uiind until I thonglit the two ad- 
 mirably adapted to each other — a mere fancy, of course. 
 
 About this time my fathei^'s investments began to 
 realize handsomely, even beyond his most sanguine 
 anticipations. I was released from work on the farm, 
 and iu accordance with my earnest desire for a scho- 
 lastic education, I commenced preparations to enter 
 college. 
 
 When these were nearly completed, I felt a master- 
 ing desii'e to see Effie and bid her adieu before leaving 
 home. Since school-days I had not seen her very fre- 
 quently, l)ut her image had become a fixture in the gal- 
 lery of mind and memory. Wh}' did I wish to see her 
 so greatly and yet be so careless about any and all 
 others ? I did not know, and made no attempt to an- 
 swer the question. I only knew the fact. 
 
 As before remarked, I was timid. This timidity pre- 
 vented me from calling upon her in a regular and for- 
 mal manner. I should have confided in my mother, 
 who could have relieved the situation by her tact and 
 love ; l)ut for the first time in my life I had an expe- 
 rience I was keepiug from her. 
 
 I made several unnecessary errands into town, and 
 as many necessary ones as possible, hoping to meet 
 Effie on the street, or in front of her home. Man}- dis- 
 appointments made me restless. JMother was quick to 
 notice this, l)ut the prospect of leaving home fm-nished 
 ample explanation, and my secret renudned undiscov- 
 ered. 
 
 At length my last day at home amved. On the 
 morrow I was to leave for school. I went into the 
 city with a trembling hope. It wa.s my last oppor- 
 tunity. Would I meet her? I went the usual round 
 with the usual result, and set out on my return weary 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 9 
 
 and disappointed. Suddenly from a side street she 
 stepped out before me, not a half-block distant, and 
 was going toward home. 
 
 My heart beat quick. With much trepidation I ap- 
 proached and opened conversation with her. After 
 brief preliminaries I came to the matter uppermost in 
 my thoughts, and said : 
 
 " I leave for college in the morning." 
 
 I fancied she was a little startled, but she looked up 
 into my face earnestly, and replied : 
 
 " So soon ? I had learned you were expecting to go, 
 but did not think it was time yet." 
 
 " Yes, the session commences next week." 
 
 " I am sorry you are going away." 
 
 " Are you indeed ? Will you miss me at all ? " 
 
 " Of coiu'se we shall miss you." 
 
 " We f But will you miss me ? " 
 
 " Certainly I shall. And yet I am glad you are 
 going to perfect your education." 
 
 " I hope you will not entirely forget me while I am 
 away." 
 
 "I shall not. I shall remember you every time I 
 pass along the street we have walked together so fre- 
 quently." 
 
 " And I shall think of you every day when not too 
 busy with my studies." 
 
 These remarks were not very rapturous nor compli- 
 mentary on either side, perhaps, but they had the merit 
 of truth and honesty. She replied : 
 
 '^ I hope you will do honor to yourself, your teach- 
 ers and friends here by your studious com-se while 
 absent." 
 
 " I certainly will try to. I hope no friend at home 
 will be ashamed of me." 
 
10 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " Whatever else you do, be true, manly, and noble." 
 
 " I trust 1 shall never do anything to cause any one 
 regi'et or shame for my conduct. I coidd not beai* to 
 have my friends thudj ill of me because I had merited 
 disapproval." 
 
 ''I do not believe you will forfeit the good opinion 
 of those who esteem you," she said, with a look of con- 
 fidence and encouragement, which was inspiring and 
 never faded from my memory. 
 
 As we neared the gate to her home I proffered my 
 hand. She i)laced hers confidingly in mine. The press- 
 ure I gave was somewhat ardent, as I spoke the part- 
 ing words. 
 
 " Good-by." 
 
 I tliiuk she retm-ned the pressure, though I was ex- 
 cited and may have fancied more than was real. But 
 there was something in the tone of her voice as she 
 said '' Good-by " which I never forgot. And thus we 
 parted. No demonstration, no professions of love, if 
 any love existed. We were little more than children, 
 but I think our mutual esteem was a soiu-ce of real 
 benefit. 
 
 I have dwelt upon this little episode in my unevent- 
 ful life in youth because of its influence upon all my 
 after-cai'cer. As this event may not be called up again 
 in this narrative, I will take leave of it by saying that 
 during the dark days at college and in the university, 
 when disposed to become discouraged, the words of my 
 little friend came to me time and again as a benedic- 
 tion : "I hope you will do honor to yourself and your 
 friends here by your studious course." With those 
 words ringing freshly in my ears, I conquered difficul- 
 ties and mastered hard problems. And when tempted 
 to go astray, as all young men are in like circum- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 11 
 
 stances, those other words, " Whatever else you do, be 
 true, mauly, and noble," came as a shield and a warn- 
 ing and kept me from stumbling. So these parting 
 words, and the sweet face of her who spoke them in 
 earnest simplicity, became a talisman which threw over 
 and about me its protecting aegis in many an hour of 
 sore trial. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 "While in college questious of puhlic interest were 
 discussed among the students and debated in the ly- 
 ceum. Among these that 'of capital and labor held a 
 prominent place. Theories on this topic were handled 
 very sagely by the young men, many of whom regarded 
 themselves as wiser than the philosoj)hers and states- 
 men of ancient or modern times. 
 
 All new treatises on the subject were secured and 
 perused. This was a part of the recreation of a fcAv 
 students who did not engage in the dissipation so gen- 
 erally prevalent. 
 
 One author attracted considerable attention because 
 of the unique simile under which he represented the 
 human race. They were all said to be connected with 
 a huge coach, some as passengers in and upon it, others 
 as toilers in the traces. The former were the rich, 
 possessing all things, the latter the poor, ha\dng noth- 
 ing. The wi'etched condition of the begrimed nuisses 
 in the dirt and mud, tugging for dear life to drag the 
 coach along the rugged way, was graphically described. 
 The picture was a sad one to contemplate. Tlui 
 wretchedness of the miserable beings whose braA\ai 
 and muscle slowly pulled the hea\y load was portrayed 
 in doleful language and placed in the most repulsive 
 light and shade. Reading the delineation one woidd 
 be led to think the writer had dipped his ])en in a mix- 
 ture of ink composed of tears, blood, and mire. What 
 he failed to depict as forlorn and detestable was aj)- 
 
 12 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 13 
 
 parently from lack of ability or words to say more, 
 and not from want of disposition. 
 
 Of those riding on the coach scarcely a good word 
 could be said. They were so far above and removed 
 from the toiling herd in sentiment and sympathy as 
 to have no fellowship tvith them, and what httle feeling 
 was had for them manifested itself in small contribu- 
 tions from the pocket, with no tenderness of pity, and 
 no feeling of common humanity or brotherhood, and 
 these pittances from enormous wealth were grudgingly 
 bestowed to alleviate extreme, cases of hardship and 
 suffering. 
 
 This terrible condition of things was not relieved of 
 its odiousness because of the fact that daily some of 
 the toilers and the passengers exchanged places and 
 positions, some tumbling off the coach and others 
 climbing upon it ; for these new recruits in each case 
 became a part of the new surroundings with all the 
 adjuncts. All the reUef to the situation was in the 
 fact that the conditions were not permanent and could 
 not be crystallized into castes. The nabob of to-day, 
 arrayed in his fine toggery, might to-morrow be in the 
 traces, exchanging Ms fine apparel for the rags of a 
 servant, while the servant donned his robes or put on 
 better ones. And so the panorama moved along like 
 a dismal phantasmagoria. 
 
 This representation of the population of the countiy, 
 though striking, and as to the extremes of population 
 not entii'ely delusive, is yet very defective, fi-om this 
 fact among others, that it utterly ignores the great 
 middle class of the people, constituting a majority of 
 all, who belong to neither of the other classes described. 
 They neitlier ride on the coach nor pidl in its traces. 
 They labor, but it is for Hicinsoh'es, for their own com- 
 
14 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 fort and advanceineut. Tliey set their own tasks, 
 work theii' own hours, and rest at their own dictation. 
 They are the dispensers of theii* own time, stren^h, 
 and means. Most of them have theii* own homes, live 
 in comfort, and enjoy more real happiness than the 
 lordly rich ones riding on the coach, while they are 
 strangers to the sufferings, want, and privations of the 
 veiy poor. 
 
 I was one of this class when as a boy I worked on 
 the farm, and speak from personal experience as well 
 as wide observation. We discussed the various phases 
 of this subject in college, and there was quite a diver- 
 gence of opinions expressed thereon. 
 
 During vacation I had numerous conversations with 
 my parents on this theme. My mother said there 
 seemed to her to be a lack of appreciation of the true 
 character and dignity of labor on the part of large 
 numbers of citizens. Many regarded it as a hardship 
 or even a curse, with slight mitigation, others esteemed 
 it a disgrace, to labor ^vitli the hands. While no one 
 delighted in toil for toil's sake alone, and there is 
 nothing in hard work of itself to render it desii-able, 
 yet in the great law of compensation there is a cheer- 
 ful view of the situation. Things are not so unequal 
 as is generally conceded even by advanced thinkers. 
 
 " In my own case," she explained, '^ I enjoyed the 
 work I did for husband and son exquisitely. There 
 Avas no pleasanter or more highly prized experience of 
 my life than that of doing something for those I loved. 
 If mth my own hands I could make an article or per- 
 form some handiwork, or add some touches that would 
 enhance the comfort of those dear ones, there was a 
 sweetness about it that did not come when I hired the 
 work done. There was real comfort in feeling that 
 
LOOKING ^VITHIN. 15 
 
 my hands had performed this labor, and that my hands 
 should place it where it belonged. So when yoiu* father 
 did the like for me, or my son either, the reception 
 of such tokens of love and care for me on their part 
 added tenfold to the joy I felt in recei\dng the same. 
 Like gifts from others were never so dear nor so highly 
 prized, because not prompted by the same motive. 
 Wlien husband or son brought to me their evidences 
 of thoughtful affection I always felt like taking them 
 to my heart in a warm embrace with a kiss of love 
 upon the lips; and though I did not always do this, 
 yet I felt the soKd happiness these dehghtful experi- 
 ences produced in my innermost being. It is thus that 
 love sanctifies and glorifies labor, and renders it one of 
 the crowning blessings of the human race." 
 
 " I know that is true," I replied. " I well remember 
 when I secm-ed for you the fii*st flowers of spring or 
 the fii'st ripe fruit of the season, though the effort often 
 cost no little toil and effort, how I anticipated all the 
 while and then was so richly repaid a thousandfold by 
 the kiss you gave me and the light of joy in your eye. 
 The remembrance of those occasions is rich and fra- 
 grant to-day — a sweet legacy that is above price, and 
 that nothing can destroy. We do not always see the 
 results of our efforts as in these cases where cause and 
 effect are so near together, but after aU the mutual 
 labors of a family united in love have the same tend- 
 ency always and bring the same rich harvest of re- 
 ward." 
 
 "You are right, my son. The dearest enjoyments 
 come to us through these channels. I can now furnish 
 to my dear ones more expensive gifts than I used to 
 bestow, but there is a lack of the true joy of giving. It 
 is only the purchase of money. The bright glory that 
 
IG LOOKING ^NITHIN. 
 
 coronated the ^t \ntli its halo before is not present 
 now — at least not to the same extent ; the brightness 
 is dimmed, and hence the present loses a part of its 
 value to both the giver and the recipient. The more 
 heart there is in the gift or the service rendered, the 
 more valuable it is to both the bestower and the re- 
 ceiver. That is it. Out of the abundance of the heart 
 is the joy of life. And this brings out another phase of 
 experience. The poor in purse are apt to envy the rich, 
 and think hard of fate, as they term it, because then* lot 
 is one of poverty and privation. Yet which of these 
 dissatisfied and complaining ones would exchange 
 everything, including personality and loved ones, with 
 the richest man on earth ? Who would go out of him- 
 self, out of his home, leaving wife and children, to be- 
 come another person, with that other's personality, 
 home, and kindi'cd ? No human being who appreciates 
 himself or his loved ones would entertain the thought 
 for a moment if the other was possessed of millions 
 upon millions. Things are not so unequal as we think. 
 The law of compensation largely prevails." 
 
 " That is a new feature of the situation I had not be- 
 fore considered. But its application is apparent," was 
 my comment. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 It may be well now to pass from these circumscribed 
 limits to a wider field of observation. 
 
 The contest between capital and labor, or the agita- 
 tion of the subject, kept growing* more prominent. 
 Labor organizations became the order of the day. In 
 the legitimate sphere of their operations these were ex- 
 cellent and praiseworthy. But they were power con- 
 centrated ; and power is good or bad according to the 
 manner of its exercise. If it is badlj^ directed, the 
 gi"eater the power the more serious the harm in its ad- 
 ministration. Capital is power. Organized lal)or is 
 power. The one or the other may be abused and be- 
 come a scourge instead of a blessing. A conversation 
 between two laboring men which occurred in my pres- 
 ence will present one aspect of this perplexing problem 
 in a tolerably clear and impressive manner. 
 
 The two men were discussing the merits of a strike 
 of workmen that was then agitating the country. One 
 of them was in hearty sympathy with the sti'ikers and 
 very bitter against their employers. He was unsparing 
 of rebuke on the one side, and profuse in panegyric on 
 the other. He finally appealed to his companion, who 
 had listened in silence to .most of his remarks, for his 
 views. With calmness and deliberation he responded, 
 growing eloquent and earnest as he proceeded. 
 
 " I cannot agree with all you say. I know the world 
 is indebted to labor for aU material development. 
 
 17 
 
18 LOOKINC} WITHIN. 
 
 Labor camos forward all industrial enterprises, and 
 leads {dl i)rogress along the lines of productive skill. 
 Honest labor should l)e fostered and protected. 
 
 " Labor organizations are valuable as aids to work- 
 men in the exercise of proper functions; but when 
 wrongly handled are a gi*eat curse to those who trust 
 in them. I am a member of two of these organizations 
 and know of what I speak. 
 
 " I do not believe forcible strikes are ever justifiable 
 in this country. In the Old World it may be different, 
 because the whole framework of society and usage 
 differs from ours, so that a laboring man there has 
 a poor show to secure moi'e than a mere competence. 
 But here, where the field is wide and all avenues are 
 open, where every man has a natiu'ally equal chance 
 with others, and where four fifths of our wealthy men 
 commenced their careers as daily laborers, and by then* 
 own efforts have reached their present positions of 
 affluence, there is no excuse for the exercise of force in 
 compelling men to quit work or to do work. 
 
 "■ And yet eveiy labor organization is based on this 
 idea of force — an idea born in foreign lauds and not 
 indigenous to our soil. They are so constituted that 
 one man, or a committee of head men, can give orders 
 which the men are compelled to obey, whether they 
 wish to or not. Members are received only on condi- 
 tion of taking a solemn oath or obligation to do this 
 veiy thing along with others. When a man thus binds 
 himself he is no longer free. He is a slave to all in- 
 tents and pui-poses. He puts himself under masters, 
 and has no more liberty than a machine. He gets no 
 compensation that is a fair equivalent for this loss of 
 independence and self-control. There is no greater 
 despotism on God's footstool than are these labor or- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 19 
 
 ganizations as now conducted. The Czar of Russia is 
 not a whit more despotic than the head of one of these. 
 
 " The ' walking- delegate ' is actually paid usually one 
 dollar per day extra during a strike or other trouble to 
 look after matters ; and this is practically a bribe for 
 him to foment difficulties that he may ply his vocation. 
 There never was a system devised by designing dema- 
 gogues that more effectually enthrones tyrants and 
 fetters men than these same combinations. I have 
 been there, as I said, and know the truth of what I say. 
 So do you, if, as I presume, you are a member of one 
 of these labor leagues. You fully understand that 
 every member is bound to obey orders, right or wrong. 
 
 " As previously stated, forcible strikes are un-Ameri- 
 can. They are always evidence of the exercise of ar- 
 bitrary power. I never knew one to occur where there 
 were not members opposed to such action. But the 
 iron hand was upon them, and they could do no other 
 than submit. This is no fancy sketch. In the discus- 
 sion of modes of procedm-e while the strike is on, you 
 well know that it is proposed and debated just to what 
 length the work of force shall proceed. It is invariably 
 a part of the plan and purpose of a strike to prevent 
 other men fi'om taking the places of the strikers. It is 
 also either settled or left with those who manage the 
 strike to determine how much violence shall be done 
 and what amount of property may be destroyed. Crime 
 is thus deliberately planned in the lodge, and carried 
 out on the theater of the strike. 
 
 " It is the right of every free man to quit working 
 for any man, firm, or corporation at pleasure, when not 
 bound by contract. But his right ends with the dis- 
 position of himself. If he tries to prevent another 
 workman from taking the place he has vacated, he is 
 
20 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 a tjTuut. Aiul yet this is the very essence of the spii-it 
 of labor combiues. Labor never can be and never 
 ou*:^ht to be free so long as it imposes shackles upon 
 others. Until it can ' do unto others as it would have 
 others do to it/ it is not in a position to ask for help or 
 s}Tnpathy. * TMiatsoever a man' or an organization 
 ' sows, that shall he ' or it ' also reap.' This is the 
 eternal law of justice and righteous retribution. 
 
 " Capital has the same right to dismiss one workman 
 and take another, where no contract exists, as labor has 
 to quit work." 
 
 '' I am not sure about that," said the other. " The 
 workmen have made the business and wealth of their 
 employers, and have some rights which they are bound 
 to respect." 
 
 " Wliat rights ? None whatever but those of contract 
 or agi'eement. If you sell me yoiu* labor at so much a 
 day for any length of time, when I have paid as agreed 
 my obligation ceases. So does yom'S. I would have 
 as much right to. demand additional labor from you 
 without fiu'ther remuneration as you to ask me for any 
 favor for past ser\'ices rendered. Perfect justice and 
 perfect equality is the true law that should govern. 
 If a farmer sells his crop of wheat to the miUer and 
 gets the price agi'ced upon, the transaction ends with 
 the payment and acceptance of the money according to 
 stii)ulati()n. What would be thought of the farmer if 
 he should then take possession of the mill and refuse 
 to let the o^vuer occui)y and iim it unless he woidd 
 agi-ee to pay the piice he, the farmer, shoidd demand 
 for the next crop of wheat he should raise ? Yet that 
 is exactly what striking laborers do ! 
 
 " When a lodge or other form of organized labor re- 
 solves to take life, or does take bfe, to carry its ends, 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 21 
 
 it is a murderer ; when it resolves to take possession 
 of property not its own, and does so, it is a thief or 
 robber; when it destroys property in conducting its 
 operations on a strike, it "is an incendiary : and in 
 each case should be dealt with as such. These crimes, 
 among the worst known, labor organizations are this 
 day guilty of in the strikes now pending. How can 
 laborers expect the people to take sides with them 
 when they are perpetrating such deeds as these ? 
 
 " I tell you, my dear sir, the worst enemies labor has 
 to-day are found in its own ranks. They are the vio- 
 lent members of its own organizations, and generally 
 leaders of the same. 
 
 "When did capital ever beat and maim or kill a 
 laborer to compel him to do or not to do any work ? 
 It may turn men off from employment, and thus cause 
 suffering and distress in the workman's home. This 
 is harsh and cruel if avoidable. But you laborers smite 
 and maim a fellow-laborer, not only causing the same 
 privation and suffering in his home as in the other 
 case, but a doctor's bill and great distress besides. With 
 such a record how can labor have the face to ask for 
 favors ? 
 
 " You kill or maim a ' scab.' Who is a scab ? A 
 workman, frequently a better one than many of those 
 who persecute him. Look at the folly of the thing. 
 To-day the man is a scab. To-night he enters a lodge 
 and becomes a member of the union. To-morrow he 
 is aU right, must be protected and compelled to perse- 
 cute his brother scab of yesterday. He is not a whit 
 better in any respect either as man or workman. Yet 
 he was to be beaten or killed yesterday, while to-day 
 he is enrolled among the beaters and killers. Can any- 
 thing be more ridiculous or indefensible ? Labor will 
 
22 LOOKixr; within. 
 
 never he crowned queen antl rt-ijifu wliile lier subjects 
 and adherents arc jt^uilty of such injustice and cruelty. 
 Becau.se I am a friend of hxbor and have all my in- 
 terests there, I protest against these inicjuitics perpe- 
 trated in her name. She must come with clean hands 
 and ])e i)urged from l)lood, rolibery, and ar.son >)efore 
 she can be enthroned in the hearts of the people, or 
 have dominion in her proper realm." 
 
 " You are pretty rough on labor." 
 
 " No, sir, not on lal)or, but on the false labor leaders, 
 who are unworthy to take her sacred name on their 
 ])rofane lips. . You know full well that what I have said 
 is true. "Will you sign a declaration of personal inde- 
 pendence ? " 
 
 " Have you done so ? " 
 
 " T have." 
 
 " I will think about it. You have suggested a new 
 train of thought, and I must have time to consider be- 
 fore acting." 
 
 This conversation was a revelation to me. No new 
 facts were stated, but existing ones were placed in sucli 
 a striking pose as to command attention. The silent 
 assent of the other man was as impressive as the words 
 of the speaker. 
 
 This scene from actual life is given to the reader 
 just as it transpired, "without note or comment." 
 
CHAPTER IV„ 
 
 A LITTLE out of chronological order, but in harmony 
 with the thread of the narrative, the views of some 
 farmers are now given, bearing upon the theme under 
 consideration. The events here narrated transpii-ed in 
 the winter of 1891, during the session of the legislature 
 of the State of Kansas. A member of the House of 
 Representatives, who was also chairman of an impor- 
 tant committee and one of the prominent leaders in 
 that body, was on his way from Leavenworth to Topeka 
 traveling by rail, and occupied a seat just before me 
 in the car. In conversation the gentleman by ins side 
 spoke of the law of supply and demand. He caught 
 at the words and replied with scornful emphasis : 
 
 '' Supply and demand ! Fudge ! That has no more 
 to do with governing prices than I have with causing 
 cold and ice at the North Pole. I used to be deluded 
 by that old-fogy notion ; but I have got bravely over 
 it and advanced away along beyond it out of sight. I 
 am ashamed of my former folly and delusion, and will 
 not be caught with such chaff again. No intelligent 
 man believes at this time that supply and demand have 
 anjiihing to do in fixing prices. The gi*eat combines, 
 packing-houses, and grain gamblers fix the prices of 
 aU commodities, and pay for each article just what they 
 please and sell it in the same manner. 
 
 " We farmers are as helplessly in their power as an in- 
 fant just born and in the arms of its nui-se. We can take 
 
 23 
 
2-t LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 theii- prices or let our gi-ain rot or our other products 
 go to the dugs. I am astonished that a man of your 
 inteUigence should be so fai* behind the procession as 
 not to know these facts, and that the old notion of 
 supjily and demand ruling in these affaii'S has been 
 exploded and its dust relegated to the owls and bats or 
 scattered to the four winds of heaven long ago ! " 
 
 Much more was said in the same strain on this and 
 otlier topics introduced. The legislator was a loud 
 and profuse talker, and monopolized nearly all the 
 time and conversation. But at length the other gen- 
 tleman found an opportunity and propounded this 
 question : 
 
 " Suppose you had five hundi'ed good horses and an 
 agent of the government or some corporation should 
 come along empowered and directed to buy five hun- 
 di'ed horses without delay. The purchase must be 
 made at once. Yoiu* horses were exactly the kind he 
 wanted and must have, and there were no other hoi"ses 
 to be had anywhere in reach. Wlio would fix the 
 price for those horses ? " 
 
 The legislator had cut loose from his first declara- 
 tion b}^ inten^ening converse, and did not see the drift 
 of the inquiiy. He repHed without hesitation : 
 
 '' I would, of course." 
 
 '' But suppose you had five or ten neighbors each of 
 whom had five hundi'ed horses as good as yom-s, and 
 anxious to sell. Who then would fix the price ? " 
 
 " The purchaser, most certainly." 
 
 "Very well. Does not the law of supply and de- 
 mand govern prices then ? " 
 
 " In that case, yes. But that is an exception and a 
 supposition not found in real life. It does not meet 
 the case at aU." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 25 
 
 " Why not ? To my mind the illustration is apt and 
 fits the case to a dot." 
 
 The legislator would not admit the other's conelu- 
 siou ; but the case was so plain all others saw it, and he 
 was glad to shift the conversation into other channels. 
 
 Another member of the same legislature on a differ- 
 ent occasion, but similar in all respects, opened up on 
 the money question, and advocated the unlimited issue 
 of UTcdeemable treasury notes tlirectly to the people. 
 After he had expatiated on his holiby for quite a time, 
 rehearsing all the sophistries in vogue relative to fiat 
 money, an elderly gentleman suggested as follows : 
 
 " I think I can furnish a substitute for all the pre- 
 vailing theories in reference to the issue of paper cur- 
 rency. My plan is very simple, easily understood, and 
 places the whole matter in the hands of the people, 
 where it properly belongs. We the people are the gov- 
 ernment in fact. Officials of all grades are only our 
 servants. You say the simple declaration by the gov- 
 ernment that a piece of printed paper is a dollar makes 
 it a dollar. But yom" machinery for getting this money 
 in circulation is clumsy and circuitous. Let the gov- 
 ernment make the plates for jnintiug the money, and 
 then fmmish eveiy head of a family with one or more 
 of these plates, with full certified authority to print and 
 cu'cidate as much of the money as he needs or desires. 
 The government, having full and unlimited authority 
 in the premises, can as readily delegate this privilege to 
 the head of each family as to a bank or banknote en- 
 graving company, or any other citizen or officer. No 
 one is supposed to know as well as the individual him- 
 self how much money he needs, and by this simple 
 process every one can have enough. The more money 
 in circulation the better the times. Do you not see at a 
 
2G LOOKING AMTHIN. 
 
 glance the simplicity of this method, and its complete 
 adaptation to the wants of eveiy household in the land ? 
 No more financial distress. All suffering from this 
 cause banished forever ! " 
 
 This was clearly presented as a Ijluff, as could be seen 
 by the twinkle in the gentleman's eye ; but to his sur- 
 prise the legislator replied : 
 
 " By the holy spoons, that is a bully idea ! It is the 
 best scheme yet suggested. You must be one of our 
 leaders in the backgi-ound. You can go to the head of 
 the heap. By the way, why have you not published 
 your financial plan ? It beats Peffer's ' Way Out ' all 
 hollow. Publish it l)y all means. It's the very thing." 
 
 '' Oh, I am too bashfid to do that," said the old gentle- 
 man, e\idently astonished at the reception by the other 
 of his fantastical theory. 
 
 Another farmer opened the vials of his \\Tath and 
 poui'ed out their contents upon capitalists, combines, 
 trusts, plutocrats, and pretty much all things under 
 heaven, except himself and his associates. He declared 
 they were going to have the most radical changes, a 
 complete revolution in the existing order of things. 
 They had been downtrodden too long already and now 
 would have their rights — " by ballots if they could, b}' 
 bullets if they must." 
 
 " What are j^our rights ? " inquired a quiet gentleman 
 who had been listening to his bitter tirade. 
 
 '• Why, sir, we farmers produce nearly all the wealth 
 of the countiy, and j^et we are ground to the earth. 
 Our lands are mortgaged. We get next to nothing for 
 our crops and stock, and are gi-owing poorer every year 
 with all our hard work, while the rich combines and 
 plutocrats that plunder us are growing richer aU the 
 time. They accumulate vast fortunes, are getting hold 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 27 
 
 of all the wealth of the land, and using it to crush out 
 all that opposes them. They will soon own everything 
 and aU the people will be their slaves. The only hope 
 we have is in revolution." 
 
 " What sort of a revolution do you propose to carry 
 out?" 
 
 " One that will equalize things, especially the wealth 
 of the country." 
 
 "I see. You say you are plundered. Who robs 
 you ? " 
 
 " Middlemen and combines." 
 
 " Who are middlemen ? " 
 
 ''The men who simply handle our produce, charge 
 enormously for doing it, but never produce an atom of 
 anytliing." 
 
 "If I understand you, the middlemen are the ones 
 who come between you and yoiu* consumers." 
 
 '' That's it exactly." 
 
 "There must be quite a number of these. Let us 
 look after them a moment. We will say you have a 
 hundred acres of wheat. You cultivate and produce 
 the wheat. When it is ripe production ceases and 
 conversion begins. The crop ripe in the field is the 
 raw material, and you are now to get it in shape for 
 your customers. The first thing to be done is to har- 
 vest the grain. Here comes in the fii'st set of middle- 
 men, and there is quite a number of them. The next 
 are the threshers, and there are numbers of them also, 
 aU middlemen. Then there are the machines, which 
 add to the expense ; they are the same as middlemen. 
 Then you must hire men to haul the grain to the rail- 
 road or elevator; these, too, are middlemen. Then 
 the railway transports the grain to market, and the 
 train hands are another lot of middlemen. Last of all 
 
28 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 you come to the commission man or other pm'chaser, 
 and he is the final middleman, and, as I gather from 
 youi" talk, the only one of whom yon complain. But 
 the reapers, the threshers, the haulers, and the train- 
 men ai-e at least twenty while the last is one by him- 
 self. Wliy do you get angi-y at Mm and not at the 
 others ? " 
 
 " The others are laborers," 
 
 " So may he be a laborer. If he is not industrious 
 he vnll speedily come to want. But not one of these 
 middlemen, from the harvest field to the final market, 
 is a producer ; they are simply transmitters or manu- 
 facturers. You i)ay the fiivst three classes out of your 
 oA\ai pocket dii*eet. The trainmen are paid by the rail- 
 way company, but their wages for the work is charged 
 up to your wheat in price of transportation. Ai'e you 
 going to blot out all these middlemen and let youi* 
 wheat rot in the field ? " 
 
 '' Wliy, no, of coiu'se not." 
 
 ''In your revolution what is to be done with the 
 middlemen ? " 
 
 '' I had not thought of the matter as you present it." 
 
 " I presume not. I used to talk just as you do ; but 
 when I came to analyze the matter I learned my mis- 
 take. Middlemen are as essential to oiu* success on 
 a farm as the labor that produces the crop. I have 
 found other things to be true which I did not take into 
 account formerly. Suppose all the middlemen who 
 assist in getting my crop to market do nothing but 
 this kind of work — are strictly day laborers. Then 
 good prices for me means high or expensive living for 
 them. There are tAventy of them and one of me. Their 
 families and mine may nuike an offset. My selfishness 
 prompts me to wisli the liighest possible price for my 
 
LOOKING WITPIIN. 29 
 
 grain at the expense of tliese twenty men. Would not 
 a philanthropic and brotherly feeling wish well to these 
 men, so manifold more in number than myself, and 
 cause me to be willing to receive less that they might 
 get more ? We do not think and act in that manner. 
 We are all for self. You are going to revolutionize 
 society and the world to secm*e profit to yourself, and 
 care nothing for the twenty you cause to suffer. Ai'e 
 you not desperately selfish ? " 
 
 " If I am desperately selfish I know I am greatly in 
 need and want relief ; and I must have it." 
 
 ^' That cry comes up from all classes. The burden 
 you would throw off must fall upon aU youi* consumers. 
 If they were all rich it would be well ; but as there are 
 ten thousand poor ones to one that is rich, your advan- 
 tage is the misfortune of tliese thousands. Society is 
 so interwoven in its intricate relations, part with part, 
 it cannot be separated. Every farmer is a capitahst, 
 and also a laborer. The same is true of mechanics 
 who employ hands. High wages to workmen is com- 
 fort to millions; but the consumers of the products 
 of their toil pay these wages. You pay the wages of 
 the men who construct the machinery you use on the 
 farm. They in tiu'u pay for your grain and produce, 
 including the wages you pay all the middlemen. In 
 your revolution are you going to blot out the wages of 
 manufacturing laborers and give all to farmers 1 Ai-e 
 farmers to be the plutocrats in the new order of things ? 
 How are you going to reconcile the antagonistic inter- 
 ests of farmers and laborers in other departments of 
 enterprise ? The revolution you need is more custom- 
 ers as near to yoiu- farm as you can get them. If your 
 market was by the side of your farm, what an amount 
 of expense you would save and add to the profit of 
 
30 LOOKING WITfflN. 
 
 your crop. A.s you pay for getting your produce to its 
 dcstiuation, every mile of distance saved is clear gaiu. 
 Does your revolution contemplate bringing you and 
 your customers nearer together and increasing theii* 
 numlier ? " 
 
 *' To be candid, I had not thought of that. But if 
 the government Avould own and operate the railroads, 
 freights Avoidd be reduced." 
 
 '' That is doubtf id. Government usually pays more 
 for work than private persons or firms. This is a weU- 
 knoA\^l fact. Kuuning railroads would not be likely to 
 prove an exception to the ride." 
 
 The foregoing is given without note or comment just 
 as the conversations took place. It shows the want of 
 consideration on the part of those who cry loudest for 
 reform or change. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Shortly after this I met a very intelligent gentle- 
 man, whose broad views and wide range of inforjnation 
 drew my attention. Being deeply interested in the 
 subject, I requested his opinion of a labor strike then 
 in progress. After he had given his views upon that 
 particular strike and strikes in general, which were not 
 favoral)le, he remarked : 
 
 "I do not see how it is possible for any Christian to 
 be a member of the labor unions as now constituted." 
 
 To this I expressed my utter astonishment and said : 
 
 " I thought every organization expressly guaranteed 
 to each candidate that membership therein will in no 
 manner interfere with his rehgious or political \dews 
 or principles, be these what they may." 
 
 " That is true. Such assurance is given. I speak 
 from experience. It is carried out so far as belonging 
 to any particular branch of the church is concerned. 
 Perfect Uberty is fully accorded and recognized in this 
 matter, and no one is questioned in reference to his 
 church relations. He can attend all the services with- 
 out the slightest hindrance or molestation. His polit- 
 ical rights are also resi^ected. He is not required to 
 vote for this party or that. Sometimes, however, a 
 strong pressure is brought to bear upon members to 
 induce them to vote this way or that ; but it always 
 stops with pressure and never extends to compulsion. 
 The evil lies deeper than the sm-face. It strikes at the 
 root of the matter. 
 
 31 
 
32 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 "Tlic* oltligation that follows this assurance of lib- 
 vvty, which evciy person is required to take when ini- 
 tiated int(j the order, compels him to ohey the orders of 
 those in atdhoritij. ^Vll executive authority is vested iu 
 the heads of the lodges and of the order. When these 
 issue the command every member is bound by liis oath 
 to obey, whether he thinks obedience right or wi-ong. 
 lie has deprived himself of the right of choice, and is 
 a bondslave to the order. We are frequently required 
 to do things that I know to be wrong, such as the tak- 
 ing possession of property which does not belong to 
 us 5 sometimes to destroy this pi'operty or gi-eatly 
 damage it. This to me is theft or robbery. Yet I am 
 tied hand and foot, and cannot help myself. I am 
 aware that men try to disguise the real facts and cover 
 the crime hy the sophism that the property is the 
 product of labor, and therefore of right belongs to the 
 laborers, at least in part, and that they are only taking- 
 possession of and nsing what in ecpiity they are entitled 
 to as tluir own. If that be true, my neighbor's house 
 Avhich I helped to build is partly or wholly mine. I 
 have the right to dispossess liim and occupy the place 
 myself. The man who made his carriage has the right 
 to take and use it at pleasure. Indeed, there is no end 
 to tlie right of labor to seize upon and possess all things 
 under the sun constructed by human hands. This is 
 only another name for auarehy and communism. 
 
 " I seU my labor for the best price I can obtain for 
 it. "WHien I have performed my work and received the 
 pay according to contract, it is the final end of that 
 transaction on the side of both parties to it, the same 
 as the purchase and sale of any other commodity. 
 
 "I conscientiously regard aU forcible occupation, 
 misuse or abuse or destruction of the property of an- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 33 
 
 other by me, even if that other be my employer and 
 my labor has contributed to enhance the value of 
 his possessions, to be utterly wi'ong and criminal, and 
 without excuse or defense. All the sophistry about 
 my equitable right in that property is too thin to make 
 a sliadcjw. I liave already received the equivalent for 
 my labor according to my own terms. Yet I am 
 ordered to do these very acts, which, when brouglit to 
 the bar of my own reason, jiidgment, and conscience, 
 I am compelled to adjudge indeiensil)ly wrong. Tlien 
 comes thundering down upon my defenseless soul tlie 
 command of God : ' Thou shalt not steal ! Thou shalt 
 do no wrong to thy neighbor ! ' 
 
 "Again, I am ordered to abuse a 'scab'; to treat 
 him as an enemy ; to diive him from work ; to l^eat 
 and maim him ; if necessary, to banish Mm. That 
 scab may be my brother, my own mother's son. He 
 may also be a In-other in Christ, a member of the same 
 church with myself. We may sit in the same pew, 
 kneel at the same altar, and partake of the Holy Com- 
 numion together on the Sabbath. On Monday morn- 
 ing I nnist drive that brother from the work he needs 
 to feed and clothe his family. I know this to be the 
 fact. I know, too, that he is a skillful workman, fully 
 equal to myself in all respects, painstaking and con- 
 scientious in all he does. But he is a scab, and must 
 be persecuted ; and I am commanded to make war upon 
 him and prevent him from maintaining his family, who 
 will by my act be brought to piivation and suffering. 
 This is man's side of the transaction as demanded of 
 me by the organization of which I am a member. 
 
 " Then from the Godward side of my responsibility 
 comes these words : ' Whatsoever ye would that men 
 should do unto you, do ye even so unto them ; for this 
 
34 LOOICTXG WITHIN. 
 
 is the law and tlie prophets.' ' Love thy neighhor as 
 thyself.' 'Do good unto all men.' Here are the two 
 coinniands, one from the head of the order, the other 
 from the Head of the universe. Wliicli must I obey 1 
 
 " When a man is thus brought face to face with duty 
 he dare not hesitate. I did not. You must know this 
 is no fancy picture or idle tale. It is an absolutely 
 truthful sketch from real life. That scab was my 
 ])rotliei-, my mother's son. He was my spiritual brother 
 also, and every word I have spoken tells of actual 
 events. No language can express the emotions which 
 I exjierienced. I felt as never before the wonderful 
 force of the words of the Master : ' No man can serve 
 two masters : for either he will hate the one, and love 
 the other ; or else he will liold to the one, and despise 
 the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.' I 
 cliose to serve God. I could do no other. Are you 
 surprised au}^ longer at the statement I made at the 
 outset ? " 
 
 "No, not at the statement, but more than I can ex- 
 press at the history 3-011 have unfolded." 
 
 "■ I will say more. I liave never heard as much pro- 
 fanity and blasi)hem3' anywhere as among lal)oi--uuion 
 men when excited. Many of them are foreign born, 
 the lower strata of society from Europe. They have 
 little education, and no religious training worthy the 
 name. Hence there is little restraint. When they get 
 angry, excited, maddened by liquor, no utterance is too 
 vile or too profane for tlicin to use. A refined Chris- 
 tian man is constantly shocked and outraged in feeling 
 by these associations and what he is compelled to hear." 
 
 "All this is bewild(M-ing to me. If what you say of 
 these labor organizatit)Us is true, from that side of \dew 
 they are terrible things." 
 
LOOiaNG WITHIN. 35 
 
 " Some men may look at tliem differently. I pre- 
 sume tliey do. It is possible that persons constituted 
 differently from me can be Christians and retain mem- 
 bership in them. I cannot. Nor do I see how any one 
 can. Yet I am not judge of my brother nor keeper of 
 his conscience. To his own Master he stands or falls. 
 
 '' At times, when commotion was liigh, when passion 
 ruled the hour, when riot and murder were freely dis- 
 cussed by hundreds of frenzied men, I have felt as if 
 the foundations were sHpping from under me and only 
 a slip of solid ground were left between me and chaos, 
 and that were shaking as if a volcano were beneath 
 ready to bm"st forth and rend it. At such times I have 
 trembled for a moment at the prospect of the possible 
 contingencies that spread like the pall of death before 
 me. But I remeuibered that One was looking on who 
 could still the tempest, even of men's passions ; that 
 not a sparrow falls without Him; and there I coidd 
 rest. 
 
 " There is a peculiarity about the mode of checking 
 the brutal element in the order, always ready for law- 
 lessness, which I could but notice. It is this : the cool 
 heads try to cm*b the radicals and hold them in check, 
 knowing that excesses "will do harm and damage their 
 cause. But they always aj^peal to the heads on the 
 ground of pollci/, never as a matter of principle. They 
 do not say to those riotously disposed, ' That is wrong 
 and criminal,' but always, ' That will not do ; it will 
 hurt us, and make us enemies.' Wliether this method 
 of appeal is the only one that can influence the men, 
 or whether the leaders themselves have no higher con- 
 ception of right and wxoug, and no loftier measure of 
 action than that of policy, I am unalde to say. I state 
 the fact as I find it. My experience and observation 
 
36 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 lead me to conclude that with some of the leaders and 
 a lar<?e i^ropoi-tion of the men this is the only gauge by 
 which conduct is measured." 
 
 "Have not good reasons been given for some 
 strikes ? " 
 
 " Read carefully the history of every one in this 
 count i-y. If you find one that can be justified in all 
 its dcii lands, or in the lengths to which it has been 
 carried, I shall be gi'catly pleased to have you call my 
 attention to it. I have never yet been able to find a 
 single one tluit coidd be justified from fii'st to last in 
 all it asked or all it did. For most of them there is 
 no justification whatever. They are often criminal and 
 cruel." 
 
 " Then you think these labor nnions will not succeed 
 as now constituted and directed 1 " 
 
 '' If such methods succeed it wiU be the success of 
 disaster. Theii- oppression, crime, and inhumanity can- 
 not meet the approbation of either God or good men. 
 Without such approval no cause can righteously prevail. 
 And there is a side in which the cause of labor is right 
 and just and shoidd triumph over all opposition." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Having been favored by bearing from farmers and 
 laborers, I determined to visit a capitabst and learn his 
 views of tbe situation. I sought an interview with the 
 head of a large manufacturing establishment and stated 
 to him my desire for information. He repbed : 
 
 " I do not feel competent to give any one much light 
 on this vexed question. It is one simple enough in 
 itself, but it has been so distorted and overwhelmed 
 with extraneous matter that it is now a tangled web 
 which the wisest seem unable to unravel. The funda- 
 mental principles of poHtical economy are few and 
 simple, but when compbcated with a thousand consid- 
 erations of policy they become intricate and give rise 
 to a multitude of divergent opinions. 
 
 " If demagogues, politicians, and agitators were ban- 
 ished from the arena on which this labor problem is 
 being worked out, there would be no difficulty between 
 employers and employees. No employer wishes to part 
 with the workmen who understand aU the details of 
 his business better than new hands possibly could, even 
 if equally skiUful, and for this reason can do him better 
 and more satisfactory service. I never part with one 
 of my men except with regret. I prefer always to keep 
 the men I know and who know me, and are famibar 
 with the methods of our business. The loss of a good 
 hand is always a misfortune, and is never desired on 
 the part of the employer." 
 
 37 
 
38 LOOKIXf; \VITIIIN. 
 
 " I know that is a fact from my own experience," I 
 said. "I emi)loy laborers and never part with one 
 except for cause, and tlien with regret." 
 
 "That is the experience of all employers. If our 
 men have a gi-ievance I am always giad to hear and 
 i-emedy it if I can. With a few exceptions the labor 
 organizations are controlled by a single head man, or 
 an executive committee, and these, with the walking- 
 delegates, constitute the executive force and control 
 the action of local unions and on a wider scale of the 
 whole oi-d(>r. It is these head men who cause nine 
 tenths of all the trouble between capital and labor. 
 When lal)orers become more intelligent and thor- 
 oughly Americanized they will no longer submit to 
 this worse than kingly rule, and will adopt the 'ma- 
 jority-shall-rule' policy, wdtli reserved i-ights of con- 
 science and independent manhood for the minority. 
 One or two organizations have adopted this idea al- 
 ready in part, and it is to be hoped all others will 
 follow the example thus set speedily, and more per- 
 fectly cany out the principle involved. The leaders 
 will doubtless make a desperate effort to maintain and 
 retain power, but certainly manhood and freedom will 
 conquer in the end. 
 
 " You hear the agitators constantly contending that 
 the employers ought to divide tlieir immense pi-ofits 
 with employees. There is prol)ably no subject upon 
 which there is more ignorance and misapprehension 
 than this one of the vast profits of manufacturers. It 
 is a myth, a complete fiction, a cry of demagogues to 
 create sympathy on the one hand and prejudice on the 
 other. There are workmen in our employ, and in 
 every other establishment of any considerable magni- 
 tude, Avhose profits on investments are fivefold greater 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 39 
 
 than those of tJieir employers. Tlieii- capital is tlieii" 
 skill. It lias cost them something to become skillful 
 workmen, but they have earned good wages all the 
 way from jom'neymen to the higher places, and so the 
 expense of acquiring present attainments has been of 
 the minimum order. Our best men get eighteen dol- 
 lars a day. Allowing thirteen days for holidays, etc., 
 they receive for the remaining three hundred working 
 days five thousand four hundred dollars per year — 
 more than the best farmer can make clear on the best 
 half section of land ; more than a majority of profes- 
 sional men, lawyers, teachers, etc., make, and more 
 than the salary of a member of Congress. This is 
 made without a cent of money invested, without anx- 
 iety or care, and is clear cash. The lowest price we 
 pay inferior workmen is two dollars a day, or six hun- 
 dred dollars per year of tliree hundred days. 
 
 " Now if it is right for the employer to divide his 
 earnings with the workmen, is it not equally as just 
 and right for these men who get over five thousand 
 dollars a year to divide with then- less fortunate breth- 
 ren, who get but six hmidred a year? Is there not as 
 much reason, hmnanity, and righteousness in the one 
 proposition as in the other ? But who ever heard of 
 these princely wage-earners dividing with the small 
 earners their immense increase? That is a horse of 
 another color. The fortunate laborer can put his m oney 
 out at six to ten per cent, interest, or invest it in 
 mortgage securities, and not a word is said. But let 
 Ids employer do the same thing and he is set upon by 
 the whole pack of agitators as a pack of dogs after the 
 quarry. We find so much more profita])le use for om* 
 money in making improvements in our plant that not 
 a doUar is loaned out on secuiity at interest. Om* em- 
 
40 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 ployees have thousands at interest. I presume the 
 same is true of every other manufacturing institution. 
 It is the well-to-do laboring men and not the capital- 
 ists as a rule who loan money at interest. These facts 
 are either not knoAvn or are ignored by agitators and 
 the i)eople at large. 
 
 " The facts show that capital invested in manufact- 
 uring does not yield a net retm-n of over six per cent. 
 per annum. It is a little less than that in Massachu- 
 setts. In Connecticut it is a trifle over, not counting 
 the time of owners ; counting all expenses, not more. 
 Samuel M. Hotchkiss, State commissioner of labor for 
 Connecticut, in his report recently made gives the sta- 
 tistics of eiglity-five estal)lishments with an aggregate 
 capital of $49,112,149.58. The net profits for the year 
 were $3,297,861.99. They employed 27,094 laborers 
 and 1446 superintendents. Lalwrers were paid for the 
 year $12,032,412.95, superintendents $1,191,255.54 ; or 
 a total of $13,223,685.43, which is more than four times 
 the amount of profits earned. In other words, labor 
 received more than four dollars for ever}' one dollar 
 earned by capital in this State. It is but fail* to say 
 that labor every year makes more mone}' than capital 
 four times over in the department of manufactm'ing, 
 take the United States as a whole. 
 
 " There are some employ ei'S, doubtless, who are cruel 
 and oppressive and utterly selfish ; but as a body they 
 are enlightened and humane citizens, quite as much en- 
 titled to pulilic sympathy as their workmen, either on 
 the gi'ound of justice, benevolence, or good citizenship. 
 As a rule they do not act the tjTant, but are anxious 
 to see their men prosper and ready to aid them in 
 every way, with counsel, sjinpathy, and in all material 
 things. They are, as a class, no better and no worse 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 41 
 
 than other members of society of like intelligence who 
 are engaged in lawful and laudable pursuits. 
 
 " It is only because there are hundreds of laborers 
 to each cai^talist, and therefore more votes to secure 
 from their ranks, that demagogues take sides with 
 them against their employers. There are good men 
 among all classes, and bad men also. Let equal and 
 exact justice be meted out to all and there will soon be 
 an end to agitation in this dii-ection." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 I FINISHED my studies in both college and university, 
 passed a flrst-j;Tade examination and received the hon- 
 ors from both institutions. During- vacations I alwa} s 
 came home. I in(|uired of my mother about Effie on 
 each occasion. She was away at school. This was to 
 me a disappointment. I had hoped to see her. In the 
 midst of society where beauty reigned her face came 
 to me as I had often seen it during our acquaintance 
 or at the hour of parting. Others charmed for a mo- 
 ment, but the instant I was alone her sweet counte- 
 nance was before me. Often even in the midst of ex- 
 citement I could see those meUow eyes looking into 
 mine. 
 
 Wlien I returned fi-om school after final graduation 
 I learned that her father, having greatly pi-ospered in 
 business, had built an elegant residence in another 
 part of the city, on a beautiful location. The daughter 
 was still absent. There being nothing to keep me at 
 home, I spent some months travehng over the country 
 for the purpose of gaining information by personal ob- 
 servation upon questions agitating the public mind. 
 
 About this time my parents, returning home from 
 an excursion, were both fatally injured by a railway 
 accident and were brought home to die. I remained 
 with them day and night until they were released from 
 suffering. They were bm-ied side by side in the same 
 grave. 
 
 42 
 
LOOKING \nTHIN. 43 
 
 Oh, the desolation of home when I retm'ned from 
 the funeral ! My father was the best of parents. My 
 mother had been to me as an angel from heaven. She 
 had entered into all my plans and sympathies, soothed 
 all my sorrows in childhood and youth, and in riper 
 years was a bosom companion. She was to me both 
 mother and sister. Every young man needs a sister 
 to advise him, to smooth off the rough corners and 
 polish him generally. My mother did this for me as 
 deftly as any sister could. She romped and played 
 with me in early life ; in later years entered into all 
 my higher aspirations and met the needs of the horn-. 
 I had no secrets from her. She learned my feeling 
 toward Effie and was pleased. Her touch sanctified 
 ever^^thing in the house and beautified all its surround- 
 ings. And now she was gone ! No more her soft and 
 loving hand should rest upon my brow ! How cold to 
 my touch ! No more her tender voice would reach my 
 ear ! Turn which way I would, I met something that 
 spoke of her. Her face shone out from the pictui'es 
 on the wall, from every adornment, from every room. 
 I seemed to hear her step, only to remember I should 
 never hear it again. The silence was unbearable. 
 Company I could not endure. I must get away. To 
 remain in that silent and deserted home was a Ijurden 
 too heavy to bear. I went to Europe. 
 
 I visited all the principal cities; saw all the re- 
 nowned places; went into society; was presented at 
 various courts; accompanied parties of pleasure and 
 adventure — nothing was left undone to didl and deaden 
 the pain which pressed Hke a weight upon my heart. 
 Success was only partial. In the midst of hilarit}^ a 
 face, a voice, an act of tenderness — something woidd 
 recall my mother to me. Then I wished to go away 
 
44 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 and weep. This may liave been a weakness ; bnt for 
 such a mother I was not ashamed to feel emotion. 
 
 For a time I eouki not endm-e the thought of re- 
 turning to my desohxte liome. I remained away tliree 
 years. Then there came a longhig to see my native 
 phice and stand by the grave of my beloved parents. 
 Amid all these years there had ever and anon ap- 
 peared to me the face of Efifie. In the most unlike 
 places and times — in hours of peril, in moments of 
 silence or excitement, alone or in company, in public 
 halls, in the still hours of night — that sweet and ear- 
 nest face came up before me. Why, I could not tell. 
 Now that my thoughts tm*ned homeward the greatest 
 attraction in my native land was that well-remembered 
 face and form. 
 
 A moment's reflection told me tliat she was no 
 longer a child, but a wonum grown. Had she forgot- 
 ten me? Was she married? Should I ever see her 
 again? Sober consideration led me to doubt on all 
 these points. For all that, she was the one magnet 
 among the living to di-aw me westward. 
 
 On reaching home the overwhelming sense of my 
 loss came back upon me with crushiug force : no smil- 
 ing face to cheer J no welcome word; no kiss of love; 
 no sweet embrace. Dear memories and precious tokens 
 made the place so dark and di'carv. I had to escape 
 from its once dear associations or break down utterly. 
 
 I went into the city. Everything seemed cold and 
 icy, and yet it was a warm day in early September. I 
 went up one street and down another, to ascertain if 
 familiar objects would gain some hold upon my mind 
 and lead me out of myself. It was little better than 
 passing through a cemetery. I stood by the grave of 
 my parents. It was too nuich. Memory called up the 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 45 
 
 past in all its sweetness and sadness, until I had to flee 
 from the spot where reposed theu' sleeping dust. 
 
 As I passed along one of the streets on my return 
 from the sad pilgrimage to the dead I met Efiie's 
 father. With pressing cordiahty he took me to his 
 home. I was then introduced to his daughter as one 
 of my old schoolmates. 
 
 Such a vision of loveliness ! It was joerfeetion ! I 
 had seen the celebrated beauties of Europe and Amer- 
 ica ; none of them could compare with tliis peerless but 
 unaffected being. 
 
 But where was my little giil ? Gone forever ! I was 
 so completely suri:)rised and captivated by the exquisite 
 loveliness and perfection of face and form that I fear I 
 did not act well my j)art. With ready tact Effie came 
 to the rescue. 
 
 '' I remember Mr. North quite well as the schoolmate 
 of early days. That was years ago." 
 
 " Does it appear long to you ? " I rejDlied. " To me 
 it seems but yesterday." 
 
 I fancied she blushed slightly as she said: ''We 
 welcome you back to home and native land, and hope 
 you will enjoy life with us." 
 
 This, as everything else she said or did, was unaf- 
 fected. There was a simplicity and transparency about 
 her entire demeanor as free from guile or duplicity as 
 light from darkness. But the allusion to home recalled 
 my loss, and a weight fell upon my heart and a shadow 
 upon my face. As I spoke of this, in spite of myself 
 tears filled my eyes. I asked pardon for the emotion 
 I could not control. There was no need. Efi&e's eyes 
 w^ere suffused with the dew of tears. From that mo- 
 ment there was a l)()nd of sympathy between us. I 
 knew that in her I had a ti'ue friend. With consum- 
 
46 LOOKING WITHIN, 
 
 mate tact she led the conversation back to the days 
 of our old fellowship, and recalled incidents of those 
 times, some of which I had forgotten. But the worst 
 was I forgot myself in her presence, and two houi's 
 glided by before I came to realize it. She said no 
 apology was needed ; that she was only glad if she had 
 been able to lead me out of my sad sorrow for ever so 
 short a period. On taking leave, Mr. Solon warmly 
 invited me to call again. 
 
 I went from the house a new man. In these friends 
 I felt the first touch of real and earnest heart-sympathy 
 since my bereavement. There was no sham, no con- 
 ventionality about it. 
 
 ■ During the interview I frequently detected in Miss 
 Solon traces of little EfQe. In my di'eams that night 
 there was a sweet blending of the dear ghi with the 
 more charming young ladj^, always ending in the tran- 
 scendent gi*ace and beauty of the living presence I had 
 met in the afternoon. I knew now that my destiny 
 was bound up in that one who filled all the avenues of 
 my heart. The more I subsequently saw of her the 
 more I found to admire. In my eyes she was perfec- 
 tion itseK. With rare and delicate intuition she per- 
 ceived my needs, and like a ministering angel guided 
 me into paths of self-forgetfuluess. In her presence I 
 could not be sad. Every new phase of her character 
 added to the worth and goodness of lierseK. I soon 
 loved her mth a consuming passion. I never had 
 learned until now the depths of my own nature. And 
 yet her very perfection made me afraid. I was un- 
 worthy of the love of such a one; she was too far 
 above me in piu'ity and perfection. How dare I ap- 
 proach the sacred citadel of such a soul 1 Yet I did 
 hope. I nmst hope. And I must dare all on that hope. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 47 
 
 At last I did. I was accepted. I was then the happiest 
 man in America ! 
 
 After this Effie became more than ever to me. She 
 held the place of mother, sister, and fiance in my heart 
 —the tlu-ee dearest of aU relations in Hf e except that of 
 wife. And there was a nearness and unity of heart 
 that could not exist before. 
 
 Subsequently Effie told me that during aU her time 
 at school and afterward at home she remembered the 
 little companion who used to walk by her side as a pro- 
 tector, who always took her part and anticipated and 
 met all her wants. Her experience was the counterpart 
 of my own. I think there never was a more complete 
 and unreserved union of hearts than om-s— a union 
 that was more fii-mly cemented as the after-years came 
 and went. 
 
 I was now lifted out of the vaUey of shadowy dark- 
 ness into the broad sunshine of hope and joy. My life 
 kept step to the music of love, and the brightest bow 
 of promise spanned the sky of the future. But who 
 can teU.what a day may bring forth? Had I known 
 what that future had in store for me ! I must not 
 anticipate. 
 
CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 The (lay was fixed for our nuptials. It was to be in 
 the bright and beautiful May. After making the pre- 
 liminary arrangements, I went home to happy dreams. 
 It was midwinter. About midnight I was awakened 
 by the alarm of fire. 8i)i-iugiug up, I ran to the wdn- 
 dow of my room and looked out. The whole eastern 
 sky was aglow with the light of a lai'ge conflagration. 
 I hastened to the spot; the fire was in the direction 
 of Mr. Solon's works. Alas, shops and warehouses 
 were aljlaze ! The firemen w^ere Avorking with a will ; 
 all the engines of the city were on the ground. Her- 
 culean efforts were made to save the property; but 
 the flames lapped and seared and flashed and roared 
 and laughed in a wdld revel of deliglit as they licked 
 up houses and contents. In the midst of the din an 
 awful cr}^ rang out : 
 
 " A man in one of the upper rooms ! " 
 
 An arm hung out of a window ! Quicker than we 
 can Avi-ite it the fii'enum luid a ladder placed. It seemed 
 certain death to go to the rescue. A hero was there. 
 He mounted through the smoke and flames to the spot 
 and called to the man. No answer. He dashed in 
 the window, sprang inside, lifted the insensible fonn, 
 pushed it out, held to one arm, and followed. DoA^ni 
 they started. It was like going into a furnace. The 
 wild flames enveloped the man and his bm-den. An 
 assistant rushed \ip to help. AU reached the ground. 
 
 48 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 49 
 
 The breathless silence was then broken by a shout of 
 joy and clieers for the hero, who was carried to the 
 hospital in triumph, and though scorched, singed, and 
 blistered, he came out after treatment undisfigured, 
 almost unscarred, and honored by his fellow-citizens 
 ever after. 
 
 The man rescued was past recovery; smoke and 
 flame had done their work before the discovery. 
 
 This man was the cause of the fii'e. He had come 
 along in necessitous circumstances some months before 
 and out of sympathy Mr. Solon gave him employment. 
 He returned this kindness by inciting the men to strike 
 for higher wages. As this was a typical case, we give the 
 leading points briefly. The stranger said to the men : 
 
 " Look at the difference between you and your em- 
 ployer. He is growing rich every yeai' from the })ro- 
 ceeds of your toil. Your sweat and blood go into his 
 coffers in the shape of gold and greenbacks. It is your 
 labor that makes his wealth. Without you he would 
 become poor. He adds thousands to his possessions 
 every year, while you who make all his gains remain 
 poor. If you get ahead at all it is by such slow proc- 
 esses as will take a lifetime for you to seciu'e a small 
 competence for the days of old age. Yet this man 
 revels in abundance aU the days of his life. That 
 alnmdance is filched from your brawn and muscle. 
 His child has all that heart can wish or ambition crave. 
 Your children are doomed to toil and privation, and 
 can hope for nothing beyond the circumscribed Ixmnds 
 of poverty. Is this right ? Do you intend to drudge 
 on in this way to the end ? Will you permit yourselves 
 to be slaves of this man, who has the happy luck of 
 possessing capital enough to run a business and get 
 rich at youi' expense ? " 
 
50 LOOKINii WJTIIIN. 
 
 Tliese and similar utterances were continually dinned 
 in the ears of the men, who had been satisfied and con- 
 tented up to this time. These ultimately had the effect 
 to cause a strike. Greatl}^ to Mr. Solon's sui-prise his 
 men came on Saturday afternoon and demanded an 
 increase of pay. As soon as he could recover from the 
 shock he said to them very kindly : 
 
 " jMy friends, I have been running behind for tliree 
 months. The business has not been paying expenses. 
 You can see for yourselves that the goods have ac- 
 cumulated in all the shops and storerooms until there 
 is hardly space for storing more. I have kept you em- 
 ployed kno-^dng what a hai'dship it would be for you 
 to be thro'svn out of a situation at this time. Why do 
 you come ^^dth such a demand at this season, when of 
 all otlun-s it is impossible to increase youi- pay?" 
 
 " We think j'ou can pay us better wages," said the 
 leader. 
 
 " Wliy do you think so ? " 
 
 " Because j'ou ai*e gi-owing richer and we are not." 
 
 " I am not growing richer at tliis time, but poorer 
 every day. It depends upon the uncertain contin- 
 gencies of a futui'e demand whether I ever recover 
 from the present losses." 
 
 Then the new man spoke up. 
 
 " You are not getting poorer. You may not be re- 
 ceiving as much cash as usual ; but here are the goods 
 you have allowed to accmnulate as so much wealth, 
 which these men have made for you, and which only 
 await the day of sale to fill yoiu* coffers." 
 
 " Suppose the day of sale does not come, or when it 
 comes prices are reduced — what, then, will be the 
 profits ? I am taking aU the chances for the sake of 
 my men and theu* famiUes. I could not find it in my 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 51 
 
 heart to tiu'n them out so long as it was possible for 
 me to keep them employed ; but as you have yourselves 
 opened the way, and as it will be profitable for me to 
 close down at present, I say to you, if you do not wish 
 to continue to work at the prices I have been paying 
 you are at liberty to leave me at once. I shall regret 
 to part with you, but if you will go you must. I can- 
 not increase your pay now. If you remain and times 
 improve so that I can pay you more, I shall do so with- 
 out your asking. Make up yoiu' minds now and let 
 me know your decision speedily." 
 
 The men held a brief consultation by themselves and 
 in a few minutes reported. 
 
 " We will gladly continue work at the present prices, 
 and thank you for not sending us away. We never 
 should have thought of asking an advance of pay but 
 for this stranger, who has deceived and led us astray." 
 
 So the men remained. The stranger was paid off 
 and dismissed. And he was the one taken from the 
 burning building too late to save his life. He had 
 been drinking in the evening, and either accidentally 
 or purposely set fire to the place, with the result named. 
 Mr. Solon had the remains buried at his own expense. 
 His plant was almost a total loss. 
 
 Little did I think how this sad event was to affect 
 my life ! 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I CALLED on Effie the next day. She was in distress 
 of mind not caused by her father's loss. Feeling ill, 
 she requested to be left alone and for me to call on the 
 moiTow. I did so. She was still under a eloud. The 
 light of gladness in the eye was gone ; the radiant face 
 was beneath an eclipse. Evidently she was passing 
 through a mental strain, and was not her own buoyant 
 and clieeiy self. 
 
 " What is the trouble, dearest ? " I inquired -with the 
 deepest solicitude, holding her willing hand. 
 
 She replied, " It is inexpressibly painful for me to 
 say or do aught that will cause you pain ; but necessity 
 compels me. The fii"e has left father in such circum- 
 stances as must postpone our marriage indefinitely." 
 
 " Not by any means, love. You know I am amply 
 able to care for j^ou, and I am now more than ever 
 anxious to do so. If j^ou had not a cent in the world I 
 should just as joyously make you the partner of my 
 joys and son-ows as though you possessed millions. 
 Your father's loss need be no barrier to oui- union as 
 agreed upon, but may hasten the happy event, if only 
 you wiU consent that it shall." 
 
 "I cannot," she said, and gave her reasons. Her 
 fii'st duty was to her parents. Her father's losses 
 would reach a quarter of a million dollars. She must 
 aid him by being his bookkeeper until better times. • I 
 protested and proffered aid. She was sure her father 
 
 52 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 53 
 
 would accept favors from no one that would increase 
 his liabilities, and if he would she would not. I ex- 
 pressed surprise at this, but soon found that her high 
 sense of indei^endence was sensitive, and not to be 
 placed in a doubtfid position even by a lover. I had 
 to admii-e while I felt the pain of the dechnation of 
 assistance. I said : 
 
 "My dear Effie, you are worth a hundred of me, and 
 if I had the world to lay at yom* feet I should still be 
 your debtor." 
 
 She rejihed that this was very flattering, but only the 
 rhapsody of a lover. She i-emained fii'm, and I could 
 do nothing but acquiesce. I left her presence with 
 mingled emotions. Selfishness demanded the prompt 
 fulfilhnent of our engagement. Something higher in 
 me admii-ed the courage and self-abnegation of this 
 peerless woman. I kncAV by the tremor of voice and 
 all visible signs how much it cost her to renounce self 
 and stand fii*mly by duty as she saw it. Even in my 
 troubled mind, batthng as I was in a conflict, she had 
 placed herself on the mount of transfiguration. 
 
 Without dwelhng upon this dark period of my life I 
 simply say that Ef&e remained true to her conviction, 
 and gave five years as the probable time of oiu' proba- 
 tion. Five years ! It seemed almost an eternity. What 
 should I, what could I, do all these years of waiting ? 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 I NOW come to the first distinctive event of my life 
 which renders this record worth writing. 
 
 The bnlk of my possessions was situated about a 
 mile from the city. On the premises was a pecidiar 
 formation of rock covering over an acre of ground. It 
 was about twice as long as it was wide — an oblong 
 figm-e more resembling the work of a designing archi- 
 tect than a convulsion of natiu-e. 
 
 A kind and gentlemanly stranger requested the priv- 
 ilege of making a room in this rocky hill for the pur- 
 pose of establishing a chemical laboratory where he 
 could conduct a series of very important experiments 
 without being disturbed and where he would be certain 
 to harm no one. I readily gave consent, and a few 
 days after was called away on important business 
 which detained me six mouths. 
 
 On retm-niug home my attention was draT\'n to a 
 pile of large rocks lying in front of the spot where I 
 had given the eccentric chemist permission to fix his 
 quarters. I had forgotten the affau- entu-ely. This 
 brought it to mind, and I went over to see what was 
 done. 
 
 Imagine my surprise when the man took me into a 
 room twelve by fifteen feet in size and ten feet high, 
 
 54 
 
LOOIONG WITHIN. 55 
 
 cut out of solid rock. The thing seemed an impossi- 
 bility. By way of explanation he took a bottle of pecul- 
 iar-looking fluid, and with a tracing-pencil of his own 
 construction drew a line across a block of solid rock 
 two feet in thickness, and by repeating the process for 
 ten minutes the stone was divided as smoothly as if it 
 had been sawn asunder. This explained the problem 
 but not the mystery. A simple mechanical contrivance 
 enabled him to move the blocks as he cut them loose 
 where he desired. 
 
 In a short time this room, which was delightfully 
 ventilated, was elegantly furnished with hangings which 
 deadened the sound. A smaller room at one side was 
 used for the laboratory. The main room was a place 
 fit for a prince. I desu-ed the gentleman to give me 
 his name. He said, " Call me the Chemist." So I knew 
 him only by that appellation. He always appeared 
 glad to see me, and took delight in showing me his 
 apparatus and explaining his processes, which I did 
 not understand. He claimed to be developing some 
 wonderful discoveries, which I should be made ac- 
 quainted with in due time. I paid little attention to 
 these things, thinking them the chimeras of an enthu- 
 siast. 
 
 One day he requested an interview, which he said 
 might prove of inestimable value to me. Dming 
 the interview he explained to me the nature of a 
 number of really marvelous chemical discoveries he 
 had made. I need mention but a few of them, which 
 are intimately connected with tliis history of strange 
 events. One in particular was a preparation upon 
 which he had spent years of labor and research with 
 the most astonishing and incredil^le results. He had 
 not yet given to this child of his skill a name, l)ut 
 
56 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 described it as a life-preserver dui-iug a period of sus- 
 pended aniinutiou tliat it produced. He declared it 
 would put a jjerson in an luiconscious state, with an 
 entire suspension of all the life forces of the physical 
 and mental systems, and yet preserve these forces in- 
 tact for an indefinite period of time. 
 
 The longest case of actual experiment was of ten 
 years' dm"ation, on a mendicant who was suffering fi'oni 
 a painfid disease. It was successfid in all respects. He 
 had the preparation gi-aded in strength from one hour 
 to one hundred years. I gave respectful attention to 
 all he said, but was not at the time very deeply im- 
 pressed by what I heard. He and I were the only per- 
 sons who had ever entered his I'etreat ; and he assured 
 me I was the only person living besides himself who 
 knew of his secret. The mendicant had died from ex- 
 posure before he could secure him for a twenty yeai's' 
 trial. In the near future he proposed to fui'uish me 
 wtli a formula and full particulars for the compound- 
 ing of all his preparations, among which were a numl)er 
 for removing stains from the human skin and all man- 
 ner of textile fabrics, whatever the cause which pro- 
 duced them. All were harmless. 
 
 At his request, and to please him, I had an apartment 
 fitted up in my traveling- valise sidtable for the pur- 
 pose, which he filled Avith a number of bottles contain- 
 ing his products. He remarked : 
 
 " You will sometimes find these of inestimable value. 
 In case of emergency or unpai-alleled need, do not for- 
 get to consult these bottles for relief. I will place fuU 
 and intelligible directions with them." 
 
 I accepted his kindness because I saw it pleased him. 
 His earnestness made some impression upon my mind ; 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 57 
 
 but the exciting events which followed di'ove this from 
 thought and memory. A shelf near his bed and the 
 hiboratory proper had samples of his preparations ready 
 for use at all times. These matters will prove of great 
 interest hereafter. 
 
 One day, shortly before the fii-e occm-red that has 
 already been mentioned, the Chemist called me into 
 his room, and said : 
 
 *' I have a presentiment that something will happen 
 in the near futm^e whicli shall separate me from this 
 dear sj)ot. If anything befalls me, I l^equeath all my 
 belongings here to you. When tliey l)ecome yours you 
 will learn to prize them as among yoiu- most valuable 
 worldly possessions." 
 
 He then pointed out to me a secret place in the rock 
 opened by a spring, invisible except to the initiated, 
 where he always init the key to the outer door when 
 he went away. He also showed me the drawers and 
 other receptacles inside the rooms where he kept many 
 things and all his valuables. I passed through this 
 like one in a dream ; yet I afterward recalled aU that 
 transpired. I told him not to yield to any morbid 
 feeling or sentiment, ])ut pi'cpai'e to live many years to 
 bless mankind. He protested that he was not morbid ; 
 that he might live, as I said ; yet in obedience to an un- 
 accountable impression he had done these things. He 
 was perfectly calm and deliberate in all his acts. 
 
 I was called from home to a distant city on the fol- 
 lowing day on urgent business, and was absent three 
 weeks. The day after my departm-e the Chemist was 
 crossing the i-ailway track near Mr. Solon's works, 
 when an engine struck him, inflicting fatal injuries. 
 Mr. Solon was near by at the time, saw the accident, 
 
58 LOOKING WITHIN, 
 
 ran to the assistance of the unfortunate victun, raised 
 hiui tenderly in his arms, then had him conveyed to 
 his own home, where he received every possible care 
 and attention. Efiie herself ministered to liim in his 
 sutferii]f?. H(i died the thii-d day, and was appropri- 
 ately buried by Mr, Solon. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Effie's decision left an aimless life before me. What 
 could I do? How occupy the time so many years? 
 Like the troubled sea, I could not rest. To be idle was 
 impossible. To be near her and yet so far away was 
 unbearal)le. I must find something to do. Where was 
 an opening for action ? 
 
 At this juncture some new agitation of the hack- 
 neyed theme of labor and capital turned my attention 
 in that dii"ection. I would go into the field and make 
 personal observation. My pm'pose was to visit all 
 classes, and learn from each. Heretofore I had gath- 
 ered an item here and there ; now I would try to sys- 
 tematize. 
 
 I went among farmers first. Here I found a wide 
 divergence of views. Some claimed that the farmer — 
 the soil — produced all things necessary for life, and 
 therefore shoidd receive the fii'st care and fostering aid 
 of the government. In attempting to show how this 
 could be done there were almost as many theories as 
 men. All agreed on one thing, that something shoidd he 
 done for the farmer. These views were those of the agi- 
 tators. One desired a sub-treasmy ; another wanted 
 government warehouses and loans on gi'ain deposited ; 
 others demanded government ownership of railways 
 and of pretty much everything except themselves and 
 their possessions. There was no end to schemes wild 
 and visionary beyond beUef had not my own ears heard 
 
 59 
 
60 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 them expoimdetl. Unity existed only in the one thing 
 named above. And these men were the staid and 
 steady farmers ! 
 
 I visited wage-earners. Their Avelhknown tlieoiy is 
 that hibor produces all wealtli, including- that of the 
 farmer; therefore the first duty of government and 
 society is to protect and encourage labor, which is now 
 oppressed and downtrodden. These claims have been 
 so often discussed they need not be repeated here. The 
 one discouraging feature was the tendency of so many 
 laborers to lawlessness and anarchy. This was espe- 
 cially true of foreign-born woi-kmen. I had heard of 
 this frequentl}^, but never felt its force until I came in 
 personal contact with it. The more intelligent toilers dis- 
 coiu'age these tendencies and try to banish them. But 
 they would not down. A large element in all the labor 
 unions has unmistakable procli\dties in this dii'ection. 
 
 I learned most in private talk with single men or 
 small gTOups. To gain theii' confidence I dressed like 
 one of them. The l)itterness of some of the men. toward 
 capitalists was appalling. Murder was in their hearts, 
 with all the lesser crimes. I did not believe this be- 
 fore ; I was compelled to believe it noAv. Agitators 
 fermented the discontent and added fuel to the fires 
 of hate already bm-ning. I was sometunes ahnost 
 paralyzed by the vindictive spirit manifested. I could 
 quote utterances by the hundred, but the few words 
 already written is a summary of the feeling revealed. 
 I remained weeks among the various classes of labor- 
 ers. Some of them are among the wisest and best 
 citizens of the republic, an honor to themselves and 
 their coiuitry ; they are the real hope of our free insti- 
 tutions. The ones wlio make the disturbance are the 
 ignorant, the agitators, llie leaders wlio make money 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 61 
 
 or obtain power and position by siicli means, and all 
 who are restless and dissatisfied. I re.i^ret to say that 
 these various classes number tens of thousands. With 
 due consideration of all the stable and conservative 
 forces of law, order, and the social compact, I am per- 
 suaded that these restless and vicious people are a 
 menace to the well-being of society, and of a free gov- 
 ernment wliicli opposes anarchy. 
 
 I next sought out individuals who had influence in 
 various comnuinities and interviewed them. Some of 
 their prominent utterances are here gi-ouped in a com- 
 pact form. 
 
 One man said: "There is something alarming in 
 this unrest of the people. Wlien a single person 
 raves or rides a hobby, it amounts to nothing; but 
 when whole comnnmities or bodies of men numbering 
 thousands do the same thing, there is danger." 
 
 Another: ''This turmoil will not last long. The 
 good sense of the people is our sheetranchor. Pros- 
 perity will silence discontent. Wlien a few agitators 
 are dead, or lose their grip, things will settle down to 
 then- normal quiet." 
 
 A merchant said: "The farmers and laborers de- 
 mand everything. What is to become of the rest of 
 the people 1 " 
 
 A farmer declared: "We have no use for. middle- 
 men and merchant princes and robbers. The sooner 
 they are all cleaned out the better." 
 
 A laborer said to a farmer : " You want me to join 
 you in efforts to secure liigh prices for your products. 
 Why should I ? High prices for you means expensive 
 living for me. If you get a doUar a bushel for wheat, 
 my bread will cost me Uviae as much as if you got but 
 fifty cents for wheat. Yom- gain is my loss." 
 
G2 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 One said : " Who can divide between capital and 
 labor? The farmer is both ca])italist and laborer. 
 His land is his capital. He tills it with his own 
 hands. Both classes blend in him. Why should he 
 antagonize either! The same is true of every me- 
 chanic who owns his shop and does his own work. It 
 is the desii'e of every enterprising and ambitious 
 laborer to secure capital. Wliy should he denounce 
 the one who has ali'cady reached the goal for which 
 he is striving ? " 
 
 A commercial man : '' Capital is conservative ; it 
 seeks stability. Agitation is all on the side of labor. 
 It is in the ranks of labor that anarchy, socialism, and 
 communism have their bii'th and are nourished. All 
 the danger from revolution and upheaval comes from 
 the side of lalwr. If the republic is ever destroyed, it 
 ■will be overthrown by the agitators who corruptly use 
 labor as the cloak to cover their aims." 
 
 A conservative farmer : " The most astonishing thing 
 in the whole outlook is that farmers should join hands 
 A\dth the disorganizers. They have all to lose and 
 notliiiig to gain by either political or social convul- 
 sions." 
 
 A loan agent : '' Three fourths of the money loaned 
 out on inteix'st is owned by laboring men and women, 
 or comes from their estates. Capitalists put their 
 money into their own investments, and keep it under 
 personal control. I know of no millionaire who is a 
 money-loaner." 
 
 Many said : " Trusts and combines must go. They 
 are the curse of the country." Others denounced 
 banks. A general and unmeaning outcry against 
 capital was heard on all sides. It was stigmatized as 
 a tyrant, an oppressor, a robber. It lived and grew 
 
LOOKING WITHESr. 63 
 
 fat ou the toil aud blood of the poor. It is a l)lood- 
 sucker, a murderer ; aud all the senseless twaddle of 
 the demagogue. 
 
 Remarks similar to these were made by hundreds of 
 men hundi'eds of miles apart, where there could be no 
 possible collusion. 
 
 Conservative citizens everywhere discoui-aged all 
 phases of tliis revolutionary agitation, and deprecated 
 the array of one class against another. But pro- 
 moters of confusion seemed to be in the majority in 
 many places. 
 
 I presently struck a new lead. A gentleman rather 
 energetically declared : " The worst thing that has 
 ever struck tliis country is this new-fangled paternal- 
 ism. Men who are in debt want the government to 
 pay theii" debts in some way. Those out of money 
 want the government to furnish them with funds. 
 Those in need of transportation wish the government 
 to carry them and their products for nothing. Every 
 idler, vagabond, and tramp wants the government to 
 feed, clothe, and make him rich. The farmer wants 
 government warehouses and government loans mtli- 
 out interest on his grain. He wants the government 
 to make money so plenty that it can be gathered up as 
 the Hebrews gathered the manna every morning. If 
 a man is in trouble, he wants the government to come 
 to his relief. If his soul is set on a fortune, the gov- 
 ernment must get it for him. Every worthless, lazy, 
 trifling pest wants the government to lift him into 
 opulence. The wildest schemes are to be fathered by 
 the government. In a word, the whole population are 
 to be made kings, queens, and princes by the govern- 
 ment. This notion is the curse of the land. It ap- 
 peals to the baser elements of society. It holds out 
 
G4 LOOKING W^THIN. 
 
 alluriuf; pruinises to those who wish to get rich in 
 haste witliont labor, to be clothed in purple and ftne 
 linen tliong-h they neither spin nor weave." 
 
 Another in the same vein: "'Looking Backward' 
 has been the bane of this nation. It breeds a notion 
 in the minds of thonsands that somehow the govern- 
 ment will be compelled by agitation to do for them 
 what God, natm-e, and society demand they shall do 
 for themselves. Its Utoi)ian notions have taken root 
 in many minds. Mnltitndes w^ho never saw the book 
 have received its teachings second-hand, and been poi- 
 soned by them. It is like the fabled basilisk : its veiy 
 presence is death. Like the upas tree, it is fail* to be- 
 hold, but all who come within its shade are doomed. 
 Its poison is more insidious than that of the rattle- 
 snake, and it does not give warning of its bite until 
 the deadly fangs have struck the fatal blow. It is the 
 river. Stj^x in this l)eloved land, and bears death upon 
 its polluted waters." 
 
 " Why don't you destroy it, then ? " was inquired. 
 
 '' Kill it ! How can you destroy a fog bank f You 
 may smite it through and through with sword and 
 javelin, and make no impression upon it. If it had 
 any foundation or substance about it you could at- 
 tack it. But who can fight a di^eam ? Who run a-tilt 
 against the baseless fabric of a vision! While you 
 cannot hurt the fog, it infolds you and leads to disas- 
 ter. The ship is lost in its fatal embrace. The man 
 is bewildei-ed by it. Sailors and men are alike power- 
 less in its toils. So with this misleading book. It 
 dazzles but to blind." 
 
 '' That is a terrible indictment," said the other. 
 
 " I wish it was not true. I msh its ignis-fafuus light 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 65 
 
 eoiild be blotted out, banished forever into the bogs 
 that produced it." 
 
 "Surely if it is such a power there must be some 
 method by which its evil tendencies can be counter- 
 acted." 
 
 "Give us the antidote. Its value will be untold." 
 
 I was astonished beyond measure. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The experiences here recorded were not reassuring-. 
 The outh)ok was unpromising. The future presented 
 to me an arena of turmoil and strife. Turn which 
 way I would, there was no hght for me. I knew Effie 
 had all she could bear. I would not add to her dis- 
 tress. Better bear my own burden. 
 
 A heated pohtical campaign was approaching-. De- 
 ception and falsehood would run riot, and party spirit 
 I'ule the hour. Pati'iotism would too often be swal- 
 lowed up in partisanship, principle be sacrificed for 
 party gain. 
 
 Labor troubles were life. The daily press was a 
 seething mass of foam and fury, lashed into commo- 
 tion by its own unseemly strife. If party success 
 could be achieved by unchaining the destructive forces 
 of anarchy, there was no hesitancy in tm'uing the key 
 in the lock and letting these elements loose. 
 
 JMagazine articles, from which something more sage 
 and philosophical is expected, treated the profoundest 
 questions of social economy vnth a flijipancy scarcely 
 worthy of the daily paper. . Looking onh' at the sur- 
 face of things, and falling in mth the popular current, 
 the most superficial reasoning was indulged in, and 
 conclusions reached of the most erroneous character. 
 No depth, no wisdom, no dehdng for fundamental 
 principles, no probing of faUaeies; only an effort to 
 
 G6 
 
LOOiaNG WITHIN. G7 
 
 gain attention by such methods as tlie demagogue 
 employs. 
 
 I turned away sick at heart. Was there no phxce of 
 safety ? No secure retreat f No asylum of repose for 
 those weary of this clamor and confusion ? Was there 
 no master-mind to point out a better way ? Was the 
 reign of demagogues supreme! Were there none to 
 stand by truth and prmciple, " hve or die, survive or 
 perish"! True men there were, but they were not 
 noisy. In the general tumult they were often swept 
 aside and out of sight. 
 
 As I contemplated the situation, the words of a gen- 
 tleman I met in my late excursion came to mind. He 
 said : 
 
 "We boast of our refinement; but there is much of 
 the savage left in us. If there is a brutal prize-fight, 
 the papers are full of it ; aU the disgusting details are 
 given. It is rumored that two well-known pugilists are 
 to fight. If they do, all the papers wiU teem with partic- 
 ulars. These brutes wiU be made heroes ; their move- 
 ments will be reported ; they will receive more atten- 
 tion than the wisest philosophers, statesmen, or divines ; 
 and if the mill conies off, all the bloody rounds will be 
 heralded to the world with the utmost ability of repor- 
 torial skill. Remember my words, and see if they 
 come true. This goes to show that the beast is still in 
 the human l)reast. It may be as a Hon chained, but it 
 is there. If there was no demand for this kind of 
 stuff, editors and pul)lishers would not cater to the 
 l)arbaric taste. It is a sad truth that in our high civ- 
 ilization we are yet so largely savages ! " 
 
 These strictures may have been severe; l)ut who 
 will deny their truth ? I was now in a humor to have 
 these remarks make an undue impression upon my 
 
68 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 iniud. If this roaring liou of savagery should be un- 
 chained, what di'eadful scenes must ensue ! Did not 
 the unrest on every side indicate the unfastening of 
 the fetters f When even the most sober chisses of 
 men were moved to threaten violence, what would be 
 the results should the lower strata of humanity in om* 
 large cities — half l)east, half man — be turned loose ? 
 
 I was probal)ly morbid. I did not wish to mingle 
 in the strife. Where should I flee ? At this juncture 
 the thought of the (■heniist and his marvelous prejia- 
 ration flashed upon my mind. I had tried the com- 
 pound for short periods of time, and found its claims 
 were relial)le. It had acted perfectly. I would now 
 ventui'e to try it for a term of years. 
 
 How could I reconcile Effie to this ? How part fi'om 
 her so long f Under present conditions my presence 
 was almost as painful to her as my absence. So of 
 myself. If I retired from the world, no other mortal 
 should know the fact. Should I do this ? The thought 
 came and was put aside many times. It kept return- 
 ing. Finally it rcMuained and became a purpose. I 
 made my arrangements. A friend was secured to man- 
 age my affairs until my return. I was to go on a jour- 
 ney, and be absent five years. 
 
 I must see Eifie. How could I part from her ? How 
 take leave? Coidd I keei> my secret from her as she 
 questioned me and I looked into those truthful eyes? 
 No; in her presence I must say nothing of the long- 
 absence. After the sweet interview I would wi'ite 
 such facts as I could. This })rogram was carried out. 
 
 I lingered by her side — I could not tear myself 
 away. I was ready to abandon the purpose. She per- 
 ceived my dis(juiet. Wliat caused it? Could she not 
 guess? I felt the giound slipping from under me. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. GO 
 
 Concealment was not my forte. Her searching eyes 
 were a ceaseless interrogation. I must go or teU aU. 
 I kissed and embraced her long and tenderly. Oh, the 
 pain, the bliss of those moments ! At last I broke away. 
 
 The next day I wrote to EfBe, informing her of my 
 resolution to go away, as I feared I should break 
 down in a personal interview. I would be out of 
 the reach of postal facilities, so that I could not 
 write. This would be the last communication for 
 possibly five years, the time she had fixed for us to 
 wait. Whether she heard from me or not, she might 
 rest assured that I should never forget her for a mo- 
 ment, and if alive at the end of the period named I 
 should return and claim her as my own. She would 
 now understand whj^ I was so unlike myself yesterday, 
 and took such a lingering and ardent farewell. Full 
 explanations when I should see her. 
 
 This was the hard part of my undertaking. I 
 placed the letter in Mr. Solon's box at the post-office, 
 and then hastened to the room in the rock, lest even 
 now my courage should fail. 
 
 After preparations for the final act were completed, 
 I sat on the side of the couch and mused. Was not 
 this foolish and cowardly? Why not manfully face 
 whatever should come ? Why desert Eflie 1 This was 
 the sore spot. I shrank and quivered. It was not yet 
 too late. Stop now. I had the bottle in my hand. I 
 set it down, arose, and paced the floor. Should I pro- 
 ceed f I was almost ready to say no. Then came the 
 thought : " You have made all the arrangements. It 
 will be silly to back oiit. What wiU the friend in 
 charge of your business think ? How can you explain 
 matters to Effie f What will she think of your vacilla- 
 tion ? You cannot now honorably retreat." 
 
70 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 I hesitated no longer. Resniiiin«4' my jjlace on the 
 side of the bed, I took np the liottle, poured out the 
 recpiired amount, and swallowed it. As I returned the 
 Ijottle to its place the light shone fau-ly upon it, and I 
 saw it was tliirty-flve years instead of five. In my 
 haste I had taken up the wrong bottle ! 
 
 Wliat sliould I do f What w^ould Effie think ? She 
 must conclude I had deserted her ! The thought was 
 worse than death. I would rush away and tell her all 
 before the potion took effect. Alas, this was impossi^ 
 ble ! Already I was in its grasp, I felt its potency in 
 every filler. I had barely time to compose myself and 
 extinguish the light, when, with the words on my lips, 
 " Oh, Effie, Effie ! my angel Effie ! God bless and keep 
 thee ! " I sank away into unconscious forgetfulness. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 My next conscious knowledge was a sensation some- 
 what resembling the prickling feeling which accompa- 
 nies the return to a normal condition of an arm or a 
 limb that has been asleep. There was no tingling or 
 twitching, and no unpleasant sensations. It was as if 
 something simultaneously let go its hold upon every 
 part and fiber of the physical system, not suddenly in 
 a jerk, but quietly and gradually. It required from 
 one to two minutes for this mysterious agent to pass 
 entirely away. As soon as it was gone I was fuUy 
 awake. Memory sat upon its throne as consciousness 
 returned. I was myself. It seemed to me but a few 
 hours since I had gone to sleep. My first thought was 
 of Effie, as my last had been. 
 
 " Thank God, she will suifer nothing from my shoi't 
 absence ! " I mentally exclaimed. " Happily for us, 
 the Chemist was mistaken ; the potency of his prepa- 
 ration was a mistake or a sham." 
 
 And for this I felt unspeakably thankful. Reaching 
 out my hand, I found the matches and struck a light. 
 The air in the room was delicious^ cool and inspiring. 
 The automatic ventilation was perfect. It admitted aii* 
 fi'eely, while it excluded water, insects, and all unpleas- 
 ant extraneous substances. 
 
 I cpiickly dressed. Up to this time I had been com- 
 pletely absorljcd in mj'self and the immediate sur- 
 roundings. Now my attention was attracted by a low 
 
 71 
 
72 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 rumbling sound, conjoined witli a slight trembling or 
 tremor of the ground. It was much like the passing of 
 a lieavy train of cai's on a railway. As there was no 
 railroad near, what could this strange sound mean ? I 
 had never heard an army on the nuircli, but it occuiTed 
 to me these sounds were such as an army would make ; 
 but there could be no army in that vicinity. 
 
 I looked at my watch. It was a complete one, with 
 clironometer attachment. It had sto])j)ed at 10.27 a.m., 
 April 10, 1892. I had retired April 9th, so the v/atch 
 had run until next morning. As I had been asleep 
 but a few hours, this must be the 10th, or at most the 
 11th. I would go into the city for dinner. 
 
 The first thing that caught my eye on emerging into 
 the open air was my own house, which was in plain 
 view. It looked old and weatherbeaten. Strange ! 
 There must have been a fearful storm the past night. 
 But no evidence of a recent stoi-m existed. I walked 
 beyond the range of the rocky hill and looked at the 
 city. What magic was this ? The city had grown away 
 from recognition since yesterday — not a familiar land- 
 mark in sight ! Was it enchantment f Alas, were my 
 eyes ruined ? Had the Chemist deceived me, or was he 
 deceived himself f Must I go through life with dis- 
 torted vision f 
 
 As I gazed in bewilderment upon the scene, there 
 arose one after another wliat had the appearance of 
 chariots. They floated off gi-accfully ui)on the air. 
 This was confirmation of the derangement of sight. I 
 well knew no such things as these had a real existence. 
 Each chariot had one, tAvo, or four occupants, men, 
 women, and children. I rubbed my eyes. It did no 
 good. The sounds I liad heard were dying away in the 
 distance. All in the chariots were going in the direc- 
 tion whence the sounds were receding. I turned to 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 73 
 
 look, but the hill cut off my view. These delusive 
 sounds and sights clearly proved that my eyes and ears 
 were sadly deranged. Was I a hopeless wi-eck ? 
 
 I pinched myself to ascertain if feeling was normal. 
 It was. Good ! A flower was near. I plucked and 
 smelled it. The aroma was natiu'al. Better ! I was 
 half right so far. Now for taste, to see whether the 
 majority of senses were right or wrong. I neared what 
 to my disordered vision was the new portion of the city. 
 I stepped with care, lest some trap might ensnare my 
 feet or the illusion vanish. The pavement was solid. 
 The fence was a firm fixture. The houses and streets 
 were substantial. The yards in front of the nice houses 
 were adorned with flowers and other evidences of taste. 
 No need to pick my way so daintily. No fear of catas- 
 trophe ! What wonder was this f Where were the 
 fabulous stories of the Arabian Nights ? 
 
 Presently a newsboy came along on the other side 
 of the street, cryiug out : " Here's your evening paper ! 
 All aljout the great battle ! " 
 
 The boy and his cry were natural. But what about 
 a battle ? I called to him : " Here, boy, let me have a 
 paper." He ran over briskly. I received a copy and 
 opened it — The Ecenhuj BulJeiin. Then my eye caught 
 the date line — "April 9, 1927." I feared my eyes were 
 permanently injui'ed. Glancing at the head lines, I 
 read in bold type : 
 
 " GREATEST BATTLE OF THE WAR NOW IN PROGRESS ! 
 
 IMMENSE SLAUGHTER ON BOTH SIDES ! 
 
 VICTORY DOUBTFUL ! 
 
 REINFORCEMENTS HURRYING FORWARD ! 
 
 VICTORY OR DEATH THE MOTTO OF EACH ARMY ! " 
 
 These stunning sentences fairly took my breath. 
 Vrh(n-c was I ? ILid I been transported to some foreign 
 
I 4 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 land ? Or was this an extension of my liallucination ? 
 In the midst of mental chaos I saw anothei* newsboy 
 approaching, screaming, "TAe Evenbuj TeJ((jram ! Latest 
 news from the battle-field ! " 
 
 I had enough of the battle until I knew more of the 
 facts. Just then another chariot went up. I inquired 
 of the boy what those vehicles were flying in the air. 
 He looked at me \vith a peculiar facial expression, and 
 said: 
 
 '■'■ You don't fool me, mister ! " 
 
 " I am not tr^^ng to fool j'ou. I am a stranger here, 
 and do not understand the half of what I see." 
 
 He gave me a searching gaze, and seeing I was in 
 earnest, replied : 
 
 " You must be a stranger, and a gTeeny, too, not to 
 know what them things is. They is aii'-bugs." 
 
 "Air-bugs?" 
 
 " Yas ; that's what we boys calls 'em. The big folks 
 calls 'em chariots and air-ships, and such hifalutin 
 names. But air-bugs is good 'nuff for us boys." 
 
 "What are they like, and how are tliej' made?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, I can't 'splain them matters. Just go to old 
 ]Mr. Solon's shops, and they'll tell you all about 'em. 
 They makes the things there." 
 
 Then he ran away, crying the Telegram. 
 
 ]\Ir. Solon's name recalled my bewildered senses in a 
 measure. I called after the boy to show me the direc- 
 tion to the shops. 
 
 " Five blocks aAvay, right over there," he said, point- 
 ing in the dii-ection I supposed the works to be situated, 
 if all this was not a di-eam. Pressing forward, I soon 
 saw a sign in large gilt letters : 
 
 "the SOLON MACHINE- WORKS." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 75 
 
 As I started for the office, my eye caught this legend 
 on a building beyond : 
 
 " Established 1870. Rebuilt 1892. Enlarged 1913." 
 
 What did that mean ? Were my eyes still deceiving 
 me ? I entered the office. A young man lifted his eyes 
 from the ledger and gave me a pleasant recognition, 
 then resumed his labor. As soon as opportunity offered 
 I inquired for Mr. Solon. The man appeared to be 
 somewhat surprised at the question, but courteously 
 answered : 
 
 *' Mr. Solon does not stay at the works now, and only 
 visits them occasionally. He is quite feeble, and has 
 practically retired fi'om the active supervision of the 
 plant. Perhaps I can serve you in his stead." 
 
 *'Mr. Solon is a very dear friend. I should much 
 like to see him. But you can enlighten me on one point. 
 If my eyes do not deceive, I see what appear to be fly- 
 ing chariots in the air. I am told you manufacture 
 them. What are they ? " 
 
 He eyed me as though he doubted my sanity, and 
 then said : 
 
 "Do you mean the chariots!" 
 
 ^' I presume so. Those things above the city. Yon- 
 der are some of them," pointing where they were. 
 
 *^ Is it possible you do not know what those are ? 
 We name ours, air-chariots and aii'-ships, according to 
 the style of construction. Sm-ely you must l)e famihar 
 with things that are so common ! " 
 
 I was greatly confused, and felt the blood of shame 
 rise to my face and brow as I replied : 
 
 " I assure you I never saw or heard of them until 
 this day. It may appear strange and inexplical)li> to 
 you that I am so ignorant of what seems to be uni- 
 
76 LOOIONG WITHIN. 
 
 versally known. Please regard me as a stranger just 
 returned after a long absence — a lineal descendant of 
 old Kip Van Winkle, if you will — and instruct me as 
 you would a child." 
 
 For a moment he appeared to doulit my sanity. See- 
 ing I was at least harmless, he inquired what I par- 
 ticularly desti-ed to know. I said : 
 
 " All there is to learn. To me these chariots are a 
 most wonderful invention." 
 
 '' The first one was patented some fifteen years since. 
 They at once became popular. The early ones made 
 were rather crude ; since they have been greatly im- 
 proved. They are made of aluminum, the lightest and 
 toughest of all metals, and the only material suitable 
 for the pm-pose. The propelling power is electricity 
 combined with magnetism. I cannot explain the proc- 
 ess intelhgently, as that is not in my line. Come and 
 see one of the chariots. You will thereby get a better 
 idea of its construction," 
 
 We went into the shop devoted to their budding and 
 examined one just completed ; then followed the work- 
 men, each having his special part to make, and witnessed 
 the process of putting together. It was a revelation to 
 me. When finished, the costly ones were remarkably 
 handsome. 
 
 There was a dynamo and a batter}'-. A circuit was 
 formed, along which the electricity operated by manipu- 
 lations I did not understand. This was the motive 
 power. I did not wish to further expose my ignorance 
 by making inquiries. Eveiy important piece of the 
 structure was hollow, light, and airy. I could lift a 
 chariot from the gi'ound capable of holding two persons. 
 The ships were the same except in shape. When in mo- 
 tion they resembled a miniature vessel imder fidl sail. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 77 
 
 " Is it a usual tiling- for so many of these vehicles to 
 be in the air at one time as I see to-day f " I asked. 
 
 " No. It is only on extraordinary occasions that so 
 many go up at a time. These peoj^le are watching the 
 army that has just passed through the city on its way 
 to the front." 
 
 I was desirous to learn something about the war and 
 the battle, but shrank from making manifest my great 
 ignorance. If I could only get to Mr. Solon he would 
 instruct me without wounding my sensitiveness. I in- 
 quired how far it was to his residence. He said about 
 six blocks, and that he would accompany me there. 
 AiTanging his books, he came out, and we found a 
 chariot ready in response to directions he had given 
 when in the shop. We stepped in. My companion 
 took hold of the polished handle to a lever, moved it 
 forward a little, and held it steady. There was a slight 
 noise, then motion. Up we arose and moved off. At 
 first our course was along the street between the houses. 
 Soon we ascended above the tops of the buildings and 
 shaped our course at pleasure. The action was easy, 
 graceful, and pleasant. In a few minutes we descended 
 and halted before a fine mansion. My guide said : 
 
 " This is Mr. Solon's residence. I ought to teU you 
 that they receive few visitors. A strange thing has 
 happened to them. Their only daughter, a most es- 
 timable and lovely young lady, is either dead or in a 
 trance, and has been so for many years. Nearly every- 
 body thinks she is dead and ought to be buried. As 
 there are no signs of decay and her appearance is natu- 
 ral, her parents refuse to permit or even think of this. 
 I mention this fact to prepare you for any peculiaiities 
 that may attend your reception. Mr. Solon is a perfect 
 gentleman, and will receive and treat you as such." 
 
78 LOOKING ^\T^HIN. 
 
 Wliiit omotions wove awakened in my l)Osoin by this 
 recital ! What a ilood of feeling overwhelmed me ! 
 Kftie possibly dead ! Had my protracted absence killed 
 her 1 Fortunately, no time was given for long agita- 
 tion. While my heart was beating tiunultuously the 
 3'oung man pressed a button in the door-cheek and the 
 nuisieal notes of a sweet-toned bell sounded within. 
 To the servant who answered the summons my friend 
 said: 
 
 " Here is a gentleman who wishes to see Mr. Solon. 
 An acquaintance, I believe," looking inquiringly at me. 
 I assented. I had forgotten to bring mj^ card with 
 me. The servant soon returned and imited me in. 
 
 As I entered the reception-room an aged gentleman 
 came forward to receive me. ''What name?" he in- 
 quired. At that moment the light fell full upon my 
 face, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " James North, as I live ! And we have moui-ned 
 you as dead these many years ! " 
 
 " Yes, it is I," I replied. 
 
 " You do not look a day older than you did tlm-ty- 
 five years ago, when you so suddenly and mj^steriously 
 disappeared. Where have you been all these years ? " 
 
 There was a shade of reproach in these last words 
 which cut to the heart. I responded : 
 
 "My story is a strange one — past belief in all re- 
 spects. I scarcely know whether I am in the body or 
 out of it^ — whether I and the things al)0ut me are a 
 reality or a dream. I come to you for help. You 
 look old, and speak of many years. It seems to me 
 but a day since we parted. Tell me, is it so longf 
 Have I reall}^ been absent thirty-five years ? " 
 
 " You certainly have. It was 1892 when yon left ; it 
 is now 1927, and about the same time of the year." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 79 
 
 " Then it is no fantasy ! The Chemist was right. I 
 have been sleeping these thirty-five years — at least, 
 have been unconscious all that time ! " 
 
 This was said more to myself than to Mr. Solon. He 
 caiight at the words and demanded with what to me 
 seemed needless emphasis : 
 
 " What is that you say about the Chemist and a long- 
 sleep ? Speak ! It may be life or death to Efiie ! Tell 
 me quickly ! " And he grasped my arm. I had never 
 seen him so moved. The mention of Effie's name re- 
 called what the j^oung man had said. I was as gi-eatly 
 agitated as her father. 
 
 In as few words as possible I told my strange and 
 weird experience. At its conclusion Mr. Solon ejacu- 
 lated : 
 
 " Thank God ! I am now sure Efiie is not dead but 
 asleep." 
 
 ''Wliat is it about Effte?" I almost demanded. I 
 was too profoundly affected to stand on ceremony. He 
 answered : 
 
 " The most wonderful thing in the world ! Let me 
 commence at the beginning. You remember the tragic 
 event which terminated the life of the Chemist. While 
 he lay upon his d^ang bed Effie's kindness to him won 
 his heart. Her presence acted as a solace. Perhaps 
 it awakened cherished memories of other days. A 
 little time before his death he took from his pocket 
 three small bottles filled with a transparent liquid, and 
 gave them to her, saying : 
 
 " ' These will be of great ser\T.ce to you. This liquid 
 will produce quiet and restful sleep when all other 
 means fail. One drop from this bottle "v^ill induce 
 twelve hours of i-efreshing slumljer, no matter how 
 gi'eatly the nervous system nuiy be distm'ljed, or how 
 
80 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 persistent tlie insomuia.' Of another bottle he said, 
 ' This will produce days and weeks of sleep.' Of the 
 third he said, ' This will cause years of insensible quiet. 
 You will iind dii'cctious for using on each bottle.' 
 
 " Before he could say more a paroxysm of pain seized 
 him. He never recovered to resume the subject. 
 
 "Effie tried the weakest preparation to secure rest 
 with pei-fect success. The others she had no occasion 
 to test. She keenly felt your absence and silence, not- 
 withstanding you had prepared her for these. 8he 
 never doubted you for a moment. Her faith in you 
 was implicit. She did not despond. She strove to be 
 cheerful and generally succeeded. Wliile she remained 
 my bookkeeper the occupation of mind and thought 
 acted as an antidote to depression. Her services were 
 of great value to me, for a time almost indispensable. 
 My Inisiness prospered beyond any former period. At 
 the end of four years I no longer needed her, and was 
 glad to relieve her from the labor she had so cheerfully 
 given. When released from care and responsibility 
 her mind was fi'ee to think of herself. Then she i-eal- 
 ized more sensibly your absence. She said little. She 
 was mostly bright and cheerful. But it required an 
 effort; it was not tlie spontaneous outgoing of a joj'ful 
 spirit. The glad songs that made melody in the house 
 became less frequent ; the elastic step lost its buoy- 
 ancy; the bright and sunny smile only occasionally 
 lighted her face ; the eyes lost some of tlie soul- 
 light from their depths; the delicate peach-bloom 
 was driven from the cheeks l)y the pale lily. These 
 changes were so gradual only a parent's love wt)ukl 
 detect them. 
 
 "We became anxious, lier mother especially. She 
 was never moody or morose, only pensive. When she 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 81 
 
 saw our uneasiness, she rallied and tried to be her old 
 self. Even this cost her an effort. Our sweet, dear 
 daughter of other days seemed lost to us. How we 
 longed to hear from you, if only a word to tell us all 
 was weU ! But a silence hke the pall of death hung 
 over your fate. There was no gi-ound of assui-ance. 
 Only hope remained. And on what a slender tlu-ead 
 that hung ! If alive, you certainly would send some 
 message during all these years. It was a terrible 
 strain ! Effie's faith in you never wavered, but of your 
 fate she could but be in doubt. ' Hope deferred mak- 
 eth the heart sick.' As the five years' limit drew on 
 she grew more anxious. In spite of the striving for 
 self-composure she unconsciously became restless. The 
 effort to hide her feelings tended to increase the unrest. 
 One day her mother found her weeping over yom- fare- 
 well letter. At first she endeavored to hide her emo- 
 tion, but finally broke down and sobbed on her mother's 
 bosom, saying, ' Oh, if I only knew that James is alive ! 
 I know he will come back if he lives. But this sus- 
 pense is terrible ! I do not know how long I shall be 
 able to bear the strain ! ' 
 
 " That evening she took some of the quieting remedy. 
 By some mistake she got hold of the wrong bottle, and 
 feeling more than usually depressed she poured out 
 double the prescribed quantity and swallowed it. Some- 
 thing in the taste or action of the medicine arrested her 
 attention. Looking closely at the bottle, the label and 
 directions upon which had become dimmed, she said 
 to her mother, who stood by : 
 
 " 'O mother, I have taken from the wrong bottle ! It 
 is gi-eatly stronger than the other. I see it is marked 
 "Thii-ty"! Wliat if it should be thu-ty days! If it 
 should be thirty years do not let me be buried. They 
 
82 LOOKING ^^^THrN^ 
 
 may say I am dead, but I shall not be. If an^'tliing is 
 wroug, promise me that I shall not be i)iit in the 
 grave nntil decay tells that I am certainly dead.' 
 
 " * Rest assured, dear, yon shall not be bm'ied so 
 long as there is a hope that life remains, if it is thirty 
 or fifty years.' 
 
 " ' Thank you,' she said, holding her mother's hand. 
 '■ I feel wondi'ously strange ! Something seems to take 
 hold of me all over. I am completely in its power. 
 It is gentle and soothing, mysterious ' 
 
 " The words died on her lips, and in a moment she 
 was unconscious. She remains so to this horn*. We 
 have been in tribulation; but yom* experience gives 
 me hope. It lifts a bm'den from my mind." 
 
 I had listened with Ijreathless interest. My soul 
 was on the rack. The intensity of feeling was almost 
 unendurably painful. I paced the floor in distress, 
 bitterly reproaching myself for causing Eifie such suf- 
 fering. Was she dead or only asleep ? The intensity 
 of feeling caused me to tremble vaih. fear even in the 
 face of my own experience. A feeling of dread came 
 over me. Had I murdered the one being who could 
 make my life worth the li\ing ? The thought was too 
 terrible. I could not endiu-e it. As soon as the nai*- 
 rative was ended, I inquired : 
 
 '' Where is Effie now ? Can I see her ? " 
 
 " I will call her mother. She can answer you better 
 than I." 
 
 In response to the call Mrs. Solon entered the room. 
 She was startled to find me there. In the words of 
 her husband, she said : 
 
 " Not a day older ! How impossil)le it seems ! Yes, 
 you may come with me and see Elfie." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 83 
 
 I followed her up to Effie's room. No pen can de- 
 scribe my emotions. My soul was moved to its ut- 
 most depths. Had Effie passed beyond the reach of 
 mortal fear or hope? Was I left stricken, smitten, 
 alone in the world 1 Or was there hfe and hope and 
 bliss for me f 
 
CHAPTER XrV^. 
 
 I WAS boni OH tlie 9th day of April, 1865, the daj- 
 that General Lee surrendered the army of Northern 
 Virginia to General Grant, and thus ended the cruel 
 War of the Rebellion. I had placed the destiny of 
 my life at the disposal of Efiie Solon on the 9th of 
 April, 1891, and was accepted by her to my unspeak- 
 able happiness. It was on the 9th day of April, 1892, 
 that I retu-ed from the world and commenced the long 
 sleep. 
 
 And now, after the most remarkable experience that 
 ever befell the lot of mortal, I was about to meet that 
 loved one again, after the separation of an ordinary 
 lifetime, under circumstances so strange and unnatm-al 
 as to be past belief, but of such thriUiiig interest as to 
 absorb all the faculties of soid and body. 
 
 I had not j^et ascertained the exact length of time 
 Effie had been unconscious; neither had I taken ac- 
 count myself of the present date. While I had seen 
 it on the evening paper, and possibly might have 
 heard it mentioned, I was so confused and confounded 
 then that it made no lasting impression upon me. 
 Now I stood on the In-ink of destiny, with the quiver- 
 ing balances of fate poised in trembling doubt before 
 me. Life or death. Shall I step into the light of one 
 or plunge into the darkness of the other ? 
 
 Mrs. Solon preceded me to the bedside. There lay 
 the idol of my heart, still and motionless as if ah*eady 
 
 84 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 85 
 
 coffined for the gi-ave. So pale and silent ! The first 
 thought was of death. It smota me as a blow from 
 some nuseeu power. A closer scrutiny of the match- 
 less features revealed them apparently unchanged in 
 every respect, save the pallor of which her father had 
 spoken. 
 
 " How natural ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 "Exactly as she looked when she closed her eyes 
 thirty years ago," said her mother. 
 
 "So long as that? Do you remember the exact 
 date ? " 
 
 "I do. It was April 9, 1897, in the evening." 
 
 "Is not this April 9th — to-day, I mean?" 
 
 " I believe it is. I had not thought of it before." 
 
 " What time in the evening did that occur ? " I asked. 
 
 " Being depressed and weary, she had prepared to re- 
 tii'e for the night a little earlier than usual, I think." 
 
 " It will be thirty years, then, in a short time, when 
 she ought to awake, if nothing is wrong." 
 
 " Do you think she will come to life ? " 
 
 " In the light of my exj)erience, yes." 
 
 " It seems impossible." 
 
 " Did not the ancient Egyptians embalm the bodies 
 of their dead so as to preserve them for thousands of 
 years ? If a dead body can be kept for centuries, can- 
 not a body which retains all the life-forces be preserved 
 for thirty years ? The life principle ought to keep it 
 from decay so long as it remains, even if in a dormant 
 state." 
 
 "Looking at it in that light, it does seem possi- 
 ble. I have wavered between hope and fear aU these 
 years." 
 
 " The dread suspense will soon be over. If she is 
 not dead, life will manifest itself this night, unless there 
 
86 LOdKIN'd WITHIN*. 
 
 has been some mistake <»r iiiiscalculation. If she does 
 not awaken, hope is gone. Her appearanee is favor- 
 able. She resembles one asleep, not one deceased. 
 Only the unbreathing inaction and the white face point 
 to dissolntion. There are no signs of decomposition." 
 
 " That is what has kept me from ntter despair.'' 
 
 We lapsed into silence. I wondered why or how 
 Eflfie had selected my bh-thday for this sleep. As she 
 had only intended to be at rest for a few honrs, this 
 must have been a mere coincidence without design. I 
 was not certain she knew that April 9th was my natal 
 day. Had He, without wliom not a sparrow falleth, 
 shaped these events f 
 
 The evening shadows had now gathered ; the lights 
 had been turned on. At most, two hoiu's of waiting 
 suspense ! I craved the pri\Tlege of holding the posi- 
 tion by the bedside nearest my beloved. This privilege 
 naturally belonged to her parents j but they were so 
 changed by age, Eifie might not recognize them. I 
 was the same. My request was readily granted. Mr. 
 Solon remained below; the mother and I were sole 
 watchers in that mysterious presence. At first we 
 conversed in subdued tones. The strain upon nerve, 
 brain, and heart was too great. Voices were husliod. 
 Silence reigned. The stillness became intense. Though 
 we breathed lightly, this seemed to fill the room with 
 sound. I could hear my own heart-beats ; I fancied I 
 heard those of my companion. 
 
 The hands of the clock pointed to nine. The crisis 
 
 was at hand ! Effie would soon re^^ve or I woidd 
 
 not put the alternative. I coidd not endure the thought. 
 The profound quiet without and within was alike. All 
 nature appeared to be in sjanpathy with us in this hour 
 of supreme triid. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 87 
 
 Nine o'clock ! I arose and stood in breatliless ex- 
 pectancy where the eyes of the sleeper would open upon 
 me first of all. No sign of life ! The ticking of the 
 clock marked the seconds. They seemed to be hours ; 
 ages were compressed into miuutes. How long must 
 this agony last 1 Half-jjast nine ! No change. Could 
 soul and body endure this tension without snapping 
 asunder the chords of life ? Nine forty-five ! Death 
 still reigned supreme. A pressure gathered about 
 my heart ; I feared for a moment it would stop its 
 pulsations. 
 
 Then I suddenly remembered Mr. Solon had said 
 that Effie poured out a double dose when she took the 
 potion. Horrible thought ! Would she sleep thirty 
 years more ? The suggestion sent a chill through me 
 like ice. I mentioned my fears to Mrs. Solon. She was 
 startled. Could it ))e possible ? I paced the room with 
 clasped hands and aching brain. Must I wait thirty 
 years longer? It could not be ! O God, spare me this ! 
 
 One minute to ten ! Something drew me to the bed- 
 side. I stood there with eyes riveted on the face of the 
 lovely sleeper. Oh, if life would only return! As I 
 gazed with bended heac\ I fancied there was a quiver 
 of the eyelids. Was it more than fancy? A moment 
 longer and there were slight twitchings on face and 
 brow. Another second and the eyes opened, then 
 closed. No recognition. It seemed an eon, but was 
 only a moment. The eyes opened again. A twilight 
 pause. Then full intelligence shone in eye and face. 
 I was bending low over her. One word she uttered : 
 
 " James ! " 
 
 " Effie, Etfie ! " was my enraptured response. Then 
 with an irresistible impulse I rained kisses on brow and 
 face and lips, and pressed my cheek to hers. 
 
88 LOOKINrj WITHIN. 
 
 Mrs. Solon gave a faint scream, wliicli brought Mr. 
 Solou upon tlie scene. The joy of that hour was too 
 sacred tV)r other eyes to see or ears to hear. 
 
 Efl&e's first words of observing composure were : 
 
 " How okl father and mother h)ok ! I surely have 
 been asleep but a few hours, yet they have the appeai'- 
 ance of gi-eat age." 
 
 Her experience was such an exact counteii)art of my 
 own it need not l)e repeated. 
 
 Presently oiu* long fast was broken by partaking of 
 an appropriate repast. Mr. and Mrs. Solon retired. 
 
 Effie and 1, having had sleep enough to last us at 
 least another twenty-four hom-s, spent the night in con- 
 verse so full of all that was exciting and endearing that 
 morning came all too quickly for our joy. It was a 
 bright spot in memory. She accepted the explanation 
 of my retirement. If she thought the act unreasonable 
 or nil justifiable, she did not say so. We were too happy 
 for anything but thanksgiving and love. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Effie and I were the lions of the day after the story 
 of our long sleep became known. Scientists, philoso- 
 phers, ministers — all classes desired to see us, to talk 
 with and about us. The ubiquitous reporters were 
 gi'eedy to be first to get the facts. The notoriety was 
 exceedingly unpleasant and annoying, but had to be 
 endured. Persons came hundreds of miles to see us. 
 Aside from a knowledge of the Chemist's wonder- 
 ful discovery, they learned nothing to pay for their 
 trouble. 
 
 I was deeply anxious to learn the facts concerning 
 the war and other things which had startled me since 
 my return to life. I knew I could rely upon JMr. Solon's 
 ripe experience, calm judgment, and wide information, 
 and lost no time in seeking from him the desired 
 knowledge. 
 
 The gi-eat battle near Chicago was undecided. A 
 cessation of fighting had taken place by agi*eement of 
 both armies, each side waiting for reinforcements which 
 were being pushed forward. The dead also had to be 
 buried and the wounded cared for. I inquired : 
 
 '' What is all this fighting about ? How long has the 
 war been in progress ? " 
 
 " Your two questions will require two answers," said 
 Mr. Solon. "What the fighting is about the wisest 
 philosopher may not be aT)le to tell. The causes which 
 have led up to this sad and deplorable event may be 
 
 80 
 
90 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 named. You remember the ajj^itation of the hibor-and- 
 capital subject years ago. As one result of it my prop- 
 erty was burned down. That was a mere incident, 
 however. There were liuiidreds of others, some like 
 it, others different, but all having the same common 
 origin. 
 
 "The laboring classes had real grievances which 
 were not proi^erly recognized and redressed, largely 
 because they were too impatient to await the remedy. 
 At times they were wild and unreasonable in their de- 
 mands. Capitalists M^ere made to feel that the woi-king 
 people were their enemies, and hence that tliey must be 
 on the alert to defend themselves. You remember the 
 incipient stages of this antagonism. It was marked 
 on one side by strikes, on the other by lockouts, etc. I 
 need not rehearse the history. Instead of bridging the 
 chasm between the employer and the emplo3'ed when 
 it was small and could easily have been done by proper 
 and mutual concessions, the antagonism was permitted 
 to gi'ow and increase until it became a wide and deep 
 gulf, which it now appears impossible to bridge over 
 or pass. 
 
 "For years it was thought the great conservative 
 population, termed the middle classes, composed largely 
 of farmers, well-to-do mechanics, and successful labor- 
 ing men, woidd hold society to its moorings, and i)re- 
 vent any widespread violence. But this stay has been 
 swept away. 
 
 "The farmers, who were not succeeding as well as 
 they thought they ought to succeed, became dissatisfied, 
 and formed organizations of their own, secret and oatli- 
 bound in character. The object at first was to assist 
 and benefit themselves as a class. Afterward these be- 
 came political bodies, planning in secret for the destnic- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 91 
 
 tion of those whom they regarded as in any manner 
 opposed to them. Their former staid characteristics 
 appeared to leave them as soon as they became agi- 
 tators. Action and reaction being equiil, tliey swung 
 away from their former stabiUty to the opposite ex- 
 treme, and became the most violent and extreme of the 
 discontented population. No other class of people 
 proposed and advocated more radical, extreme, and 
 visionary schemes. Nor was any other class more 
 selfish in its demands. Their aims were all for their 
 own benefit, regardless of the interests and rights of 
 others. High prices for their products, no matter what 
 the cost to consumers, nor how great the hardships 
 imposed upon the laboring poor. This, however, was 
 characteristic of all other classes of agitators and pro- 
 ducers. 
 
 ''For a time tliere was an effort made to unite all the 
 laboring elements in one combination. But the com- 
 mon laborer, who depended alone upon his day's wages 
 for a living, soon learned that he was always a buyer 
 and never a seller of the products of labor. Hence, if 
 he aided the farmer to obtain high prices for his gi-ain 
 and produce, he thereby increased the cost of his own 
 living. He was between two fires, the manufacturer 
 on one side, the farmer, including stockraiser, on the 
 other. If he aided either one of these to advance prices, 
 he taxed himself to pay the increase. Why should he 
 do this ? The manufacturer told him that competition 
 gave him the lowest possible prices for his goods 
 and wares ; that his true policy was to increase and 
 strengthen manufactories, for by so doing he not only 
 cheapened the prices of the articles he consumed, but 
 at the same time multiplied the number of employees 
 and the certainty of finding constant employjnent. 
 
92 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 This looked reasonable. But some farmers and others 
 came alon*!,- and told him to open comjjetition to th(' 
 world, therein' widening the field of operations and 
 gaining new markets. Let the world, and not simi)ly 
 the United States, be the theater of action. The others 
 said : ' If you do this you compel oui- laborers to com- 
 pete with the almost pauper labor of the Old World. 
 You cannot control their markets or have any voice in 
 their domestic or national policy. You simply i)lace 
 yourselves at the mercy of those who have no care for 
 you, and over whom you have no control. You had 
 better keep your interests confined to your own coun- 
 try, over whose government and policy you can exer- 
 cise supervision, and not give away your birthright for 
 a mess of pottage, and the pottage become sour before 
 you eat it.' The other side replied : ' Such a view is 
 narrow and is only devised in tlie interest of the few 
 at the expense of the many.' So the contention pro- 
 ceeded. It already existed in your day, and only be- 
 came w^armer and more bitter with the increasing 
 heat. 
 
 " The laboring classes became bewildered and di- 
 vided. There nuist always be a buyer for everything 
 sold. As there are more purchasers than producers, it 
 looked as though the buyers and the sellers would be 
 the natural antagonists. This would have placed aU 
 producers, manufacturers, farmers, miners, etc., on one 
 side, and all strict consumers or wage-earners only, on 
 the other side. This project was started. But it fell 
 to pieces for the reason that many producers were also 
 consumers, and every consumer a producer. Tlie 
 problem was too intricate for solution. Even the day- 
 laborer was a necessary adjunct to i)ro(lnetion, while 
 he was a constant consumer. It was found impossible 
 
LOOKING ^\'ITH1N, 93 
 
 to untangie the inter-involved skein. Society is too 
 much a unit for any clear-cut division of its parts. 
 
 '' One of the worst features of the whole controversy 
 was that arising from the fraudulent methods devised 
 by capitalists to increase their wealth at the expense 
 of the masses. Not satisfied with the slow and steady 
 processes of lawfid and legitimate accumulations, they 
 resorted to watering stocks, combining in trusts, syndi- 
 cates, and forcing markets, and fixing prices. They 
 were ' in haste to be rich,' and so fell into snares. The 
 stocks of railways and other corporations were watered 
 from two to ten times their real value. The excess 
 went into the coffers of the rich manii^ulators. The 
 people were taxed to pay the interest and dividends on 
 the fraudulent increase of stock. Railroad fares and 
 freight rates must be enhanced to meet this manifold 
 multiplication of fictitious capital. Thus all the prod- 
 uce of the country was compelled to pay tiibute to 
 the railroad princes. Those who reaped the benefits 
 of tins class of transactions did not put their own 
 money into the investments, but sold the added stock 
 to other parties, who were denominated * innocent pur- 
 chasers,' or holders of the same, who must be protected 
 in their rights, and were so protected by the courts. 
 
 '' You can readily see what a vast field for fraud was 
 here opened. Practically there was no limit to its 
 dimensions. Its boundaries embraced nearly every- 
 thing. The people rightfully complained of the bur- 
 dens of taxation thus illegitimately placed upon them 
 by these gigantic schemes of capital fraudulently used. 
 It was a ground of complaint against which there was 
 no defense. It was practical robbery on one side, and 
 being robbed on the other. 
 
 " I give it as my oi^inion, whether it is good or worth- 
 
94 LOOKING \viTmx. 
 
 less, that if Congi'ess and tlie States had passed acts 
 outlawiii*;' all watered stocks, aud giviug the holders, 
 if they really were 'iiiuocent pm-chasers ' of the same, 
 the right to trace up the matter and get their money 
 wherever it could he found, the same as stolen goods 
 are restored to the owner when traced to any hands, 
 and so compelled the millionaires to disgorge their ill- 
 gotten gains, such action would have largely tended to 
 quiet the discontent, allay the agitation, and prevented 
 the present deplorable condition of affairs. 
 
 "But this was not done. The demagogue's cry, 
 'The rich are growing richer and the poor poorer,' 
 gained force and plaiisiljility l)y these vast accumula- 
 tions of wealth through illegal means. Capital finally 
 became so potent that it was said to ' control legislation 
 and own the courts.' At first this was a mere })lay upon 
 words. Ultimately it became apparently a truth of 
 history. The masses became more and more indignant. 
 Agitators were in the zenith of theii' glory. No one 
 could foretell the futiu-e. 
 
 ''This was the development on the side of capital. 
 I mean of illegitimate capital; for that which was 
 actually employed, putting down dollar for dollar f<^r 
 all it occupied and sought retui'us, was consei-vative 
 and dreaded agitation and anarchy. The great mistake 
 of the laboring classes was in not properly discriminat- 
 ing between true capital, their real and best friend, 
 and the false capital that defrauded and oppressed 
 them. 
 
 "On the side of labor the conflicting elements for 
 a time seemed to preclude the possibility of united 
 effort. The cry against capital was too ill defined to be 
 successfully maintained. ' Who is a capitalist ? ' was 
 asked, with an assurance that no conclusive answer 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 95 
 
 could be given. Tlie man with a million dollars was 
 envied l)y him who had but a hundred thousand ; the 
 latter by him who had but ten thousand ; and he by 
 the one with a single thousand ; while the last was en- 
 vied by him who had a hundred, and so on till the one 
 who had a single dollar was envied by him who had 
 nothing. Where did capital begin or end ? How could 
 elements thus at variance l)e merged into one common 
 cause "? Where could the line of division be drawn "? 
 
 '' I think no one has or can solve this proljlem. The 
 cry of ' capital/ ' monopoly/ ' tyranny/ ' robbery/ ' op- 
 pression/ and the like, were all made to play a part. 
 But the real secret of the success of the disorganizing 
 movement is to be found in the desire, growing 
 stronger and wider every year, to (jet somefJiiiKj for 
 notliing. That desire used to manifest itself in the 
 pui'chase of lottery tickets, in the various gambling 
 devices, in getting goods at less than cost or than 
 their true value, in catching at eveiy chance adver- 
 tised, whether by responsible persons or otherwise, to 
 get something valuable without paying an equivalent 
 for it. Rascals and swindlers took advantage of this 
 characteristic of human nature, and pandei-ed to it 
 by advertising schemes to secure plunder. Merchants 
 catered to it by proclaiming forced sales, bankrupt 
 stocks, foreclosure sales, and any and all other devices 
 which could be invented to secure customers. I need 
 not linger to recount all these phases of public taste 
 and desire. I do not pretend to be philosopher enough 
 to analyze all the elements which have contributed 
 their parts to form the great combination that is now 
 m arms. I think all I have named can be counted on 
 as contributing to the sum total. 
 
 " This one thing I may say, that finally the discord- 
 
90 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 nut ek'Hients ^ivw slionger and more miincrous. The 
 atti'cietioii of imnibcrs became a foi-ee. Niiml)tTS gave 
 influence. Demagogues were drawn to the source and 
 center of power. Better men were also influeni^ed by 
 different motives to join the procession. Weight of 
 numbers and incessant activity gave momentum to 
 each movement. One of the mysteries connected with 
 this whole business, which I have observed from its 
 inception to the present hour, is this : that while the 
 universal cry of all the agitators was for ' reform,' yet 
 there was not an unsuccessful rascal in the whole 
 country that did not join in the cry. More remark- 
 able and inexplicable is tliis other fact, that these 
 rascals became leaders in reform movements, and the 
 loudest to denounce those who had been more success- 
 ful in life, whether these latter were honest or dis- 
 honest ; for, as I have previously said, numy of the 
 wealthiest of men were really the greatest rascals in 
 tlie land ; and but for them and their fraudulent 
 methods and opi)ressive acts, there never could have 
 existed the i)resent condition of aifau's. Now it looks 
 \ery much as if all the accunuilated wealth of the 
 natiou woidd be swept away, and the rich rol)bers be- 
 come the victims of popular frenzy. The end no one 
 can see, but the outlook is gloomy and unpromising." 
 
 " How are matters in Europe ? " I asked. 
 
 " Ah, you have been out of the world so long. I had 
 forgotten that fact for the moment. This upheaval 
 began in the Old World. There were real grounds 
 for the uprising there. The people, having been held 
 as little better than sei-fs from time out of mind, had 
 the right to assert their maidiood, denuind its recog- 
 nition, and sonu' opportunities to make life worth the 
 li\ing. The land there, as you know, was nearly all 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 97 
 
 held by nobles, whose estates were entailed and could 
 not be alienated or divided among the heii's. The peo- 
 ple had no fair chance. Only the most resolute and 
 fortunate could succeed. It was not so in this coun- 
 try. The laborer of yesterday was the miUionaire of 
 to-da3\ The millionaire of this generation or his chil- 
 dren became tlie laborer or laborers of the next. The 
 wheel of fortune made changes with every revolution 
 The agitators from the Old World placed the capital- 
 ists of America on the same footing as the hereditary 
 lords, dukes, princes, etc., and denounced them as 
 roundly. These foreign agitators were the originators 
 and fomenters of the discontent and disorder here. 
 Others, catching up their ideas and theories, aided 
 them. But I am digressing. 
 
 " Europe is revolutionized. It is ahnost a vast and 
 bloody desolation. London and Paris are in ashes. 
 St. Petersburg, Berlin, Vienna, and other cities are 
 heaps of ruins. Monarchy is dead. Alas, that an- 
 archy was not buried with the thrones of kings and 
 desi)ots ! Nobilities are blotted out. The people are 
 in p(jwer ; but they are not using then* power wisely. 
 In every nation it has been too nearly a repetition of 
 the French revolution of 1793 ; in some respects, 
 worse ; more property has been destroyed. Discord, 
 and social and poUtical chaos, prevailed almost every- 
 where for a time. Good order is not j^et restored. 
 England and Germany appear to be faring better than 
 the other countries. Russia has been little better than 
 a wide field of murder, rapine, l^rutality, and cruelty. 
 She became a ghastly charnel-house, and is not yet 
 gi'eatly improved. Italy much the same." 
 
 " And what is the real situation at home f " I queried. 
 "How could war be inaugurated on our soil? What 
 
98 LO(JKlX(i WITHIN. 
 
 were the authorities ahout, and what are they doing 
 now ? " 
 
 "You are quite an interrogation point; but I will 
 try to answer your (questions in a body. The leaders 
 of the great politieal parties coquetted with the agi- 
 tatoi's. Especially was this the case where one party 
 was strong and the other weak. The latter usually 
 sought an alliance whereby to secure the spoils of 
 office, and readily coalesced with anything to gain this 
 end. The spoils system as abused was at the bottom 
 of nearly all oiu* political evils. This action of the 
 political leaders gave the demagogues an importance 
 and influence they othei'wise never coidd have at- 
 tained. Party ties were broken, or so loosened as to 
 retain but little hold upon the voter. The cohesive 
 force of political organizations was shattered. Under 
 some circumstanees this might not have been an evil, 
 possibly a blessing; but with the disintegTating ele- 
 ments permeating society and politics, the tendency 
 was toward anarchy, and could scarcely lead in any 
 other dii'ectiou. The antagonism was between stabil- 
 ity and revolution. Reform, because of its use as a 
 term to cover all kinds of conniption and venality, be- 
 came a by- word, a mockery. Still it was employed to 
 delude the unthinking and discontented. The rogues 
 of all parties who desired office, and could obtain noth- 
 ing on their merits, resorted to shams under the name 
 of reform to win their way. The unfortunate, the dis- 
 contented, the lazy and indolent, and all who desired to 
 get something for nothing, were attracted by the plausi- 
 l)le theories of deceivers, and flocked to their standard. 
 All who claimed that the 'world owed them a liv- 
 ing,' whether they earned it or not, l)ecame 'reformers.' 
 Thus it transpired that the disaffected, the ilisappointed. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 99 
 
 soured, aud morose elements of society, no matter 
 from what cause, drifted into the ranks of those who 
 made great pretensions and promises, and predicted 
 a political millennium when they came into power. 
 Finally these carried a few States. The measures they 
 advocated and the laws they enacted were not calcu- 
 lated to increase confidence in their methods or them- 
 selves. But those with sores of real or imaginary 
 grievances still ralUed under the banner of large pre- 
 tensions, however barren of fruit. 
 
 "In the last presidential campaign, that of 1924, 
 they elected their- President and a majority of the 
 Lower House of Congress, the Senate having a major- 
 ity the other way. They tried to pass Utopian and 
 anarchical laws, which the Senate defeated. Finding 
 the Senate was a barrier to all then- visionary schemes, 
 they raised the cry ' To arms ! ' and so the war com- 
 menced." 
 
 " Wliy did the President not stop hostilities at the 
 outset ? " I asked in amazement. 
 
 '^ I am not certain that he could have done so had 
 he been the right man in the right place. I think, 
 however, if a Jackson or a Grant had been at the head 
 of the government, he would have placed an iron hand 
 on the hostiles, and quelled the movement at the start. 
 But the President is a repetition of Mr. Buchanan at 
 the opening of the Rebellion. He deplores the condi- 
 tion of affairs, yet has not the nerve to lay hold of his 
 power and meld it to pnt an end to the strife. He 
 has nearly two years yet to rule, or not rule, and liy 
 that time the whole country will be desolated." 
 
 " You have a dismal view of the future," I said. 
 
 " I can have no other. The forces are nearly equal. 
 The radicals would be at a disadvantage in military 
 
100 T-()()K'IX<i WITHIN. 
 
 leadership l)nt for the fact that leaders from the Old 
 World have coiue over to aid them. They have ex- 
 perience. Indeed, but for them I doubt very much 
 whether there would have been any fighting at this 
 time, if e^-er, in tliis country. But these foreigners 
 are here, and give glowing accounts of the wonderful 
 things which have been done in Eui'ope, and urge the 
 disaffected ones to tali;e up arms and maintain theii* 
 rights and their cause. So the war is upon us." 
 
 " Will it be bloody f " 
 
 " How can it be otherwise ? All ei\41 wars are bloody, 
 and the most dreadful that ever cursed mankind. When 
 brother is arrayed against brother, and a ' man's foes 
 are those of his OAvn household,' then, truly, is the bit- 
 terness of war." 
 
 " Is there no hope for peace ? " 
 
 " I see none." 
 
 "How is it at the South?" 
 
 "The same as here. There has been a complete 
 revolution there since yom* day. Immigi-ation set in 
 that way. The new South ontnuml)ered the old. The 
 negroes have been pai'tially scattered. Tlu)se that re- 
 main are adjusted to the new order of things, so that 
 the old trouble has nearly disappeared, and things run 
 smoothly. The colored people are divided in the pres- 
 ent struggle much as are the whites. I think more of 
 them are for conservative measures than for radical 
 action. The race has greatly inipi'oved in intelligence 
 and refinement." 
 
 " Have the implements of war greatly improved since 
 my acquaintance with them f " 
 
 "Yes; so much so tliat 1 tattles are simply scenes of 
 carnage. There is no chance for one general to take 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. lOl 
 
 advantage of another now as formerly, becanse of the 
 chariots. Each army is supplied with these, and there 
 are as many of them up in the air overlooking the field 
 of operations as are necessary to observe each and every 
 movement. Each chariot is supplied with a telephone 
 connecting with headquarters, and every maneuver of 
 the enemy is promptly reported by the observer, who 
 is a skillful tactician. Hence the commanders know 
 all the time what is transpiring and just what to do. 
 This being the case on both sides, there is but one 
 recourse left, and that is to fight it out by hard 
 blows, man for man, and life for life. It is frightful 
 to contemplate; but these are the cold and remorse- 
 less facts." 
 
 " I remember they tried balloons in the Civil War, 
 but they were found impracticable, if not dangerous. 
 I should think now that the guns of the opposing 
 forces would be leveled at the chariots and destroy 
 them." 
 
 " That was done at the outset. Now the chariots are 
 covered with a coating of mail so smooth and hard that 
 an ordinary bullet or ball will glance harmlessly from 
 the surface. By an adjusting process they can be 
 moved so rapidly this way or that, and remain such a 
 short time in one position, that the heavy guns can- 
 not be trained upon them. At first the occupants of 
 chariots on the opposing sides rushed upon each other 
 and fought duels in the air. On one occasion both 
 were killed ; on another, both were wounded ; then 
 one would be killed and the other wounded. Vivid 
 and exciting descriptions of these * battles in the air,' 
 or ' combats in the clouds,' have been published, and 
 eagerly devom-ed by all readers. Now the chariots are 
 
102 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 aniior-plated, so that fatal encounters need not oecm* ; 
 and by common consent these air-fights have been dis- 
 continued." 
 
 " That sounds like a romance." 
 
 '* In yom- day an impossibility ; now a reality easily 
 explained." 
 
 " 80 wonders never cease." 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 I WAS very desirous to learn more about the chariots 
 or air-ships, so as to be able to operate thein. Effie 
 had never seen one. I wished to take an excursion in 
 the air with her as com/panion du voyage, and did not 
 want to run any risk of accident, and I made knowu my 
 desire to Mr. Solon, and he kindly consented to become 
 my instructor. He had both chariots and ships, one of 
 each at his home, of the latest patterns and improve- 
 ments. They occupied the buggy-house of former 
 years, the buggy and carriage being things of the past. 
 Mr. Solon said : 
 
 " During the last decade of the nineteenth century a 
 very important discovery was made and published to 
 the world concerning electricity. Its pecuhar province 
 and work in the economy of the universe were set 
 forth and explained. This gave a new impetus to in- 
 vestigation. While the discovery did not tell what 
 electricity is, it told what it does, and something of the 
 how and why. This enabled investigators to pursue 
 more intelhgently their lines of research into the pe- 
 culiarities of this wonderful force of nature, and better 
 results have been attained. By the use of electricity 
 and magnetism combined in action, a propelling power 
 has been secured which enables us to navigate the air. 
 This could not have been accomphshed, however, if 
 aluminum or some similar substance had not been dis- 
 covered and utilized al)out the same time. Now let us 
 examine this chariot," he said, leading the way to it. 
 
 103 
 
lU-t LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " The framework is all of aluminum. It is the light- 
 est material we have that is strong enough to meet 
 the requirements. This is a battery, very compact, 
 but very powerful. Here is the dynamo, and here a 
 magnetic battery of great strength. These, all active 
 and in harmonious combination, ])y their connecting 
 parts, which are easily adjusted, fm-nisli the motive 
 2)ower. They are under complete control of the oper- 
 ator. Here, under this leaf, which runs the length of 
 the chariot, are little wings. They work rapidly and 
 noiselessly, but with i)erfect efficiency. These ai'e all 
 necessary to the successful working of the ai)paratus. 
 At first the vehicle was connected by wire with a gen- 
 erator or dynamo on the ground. Froin it a large 
 number of chariots could be sent off and su})i)lied with 
 motive power. But they were limited in tlieir trips by 
 tlio length of the wire connecting with the dynamo. 
 Now we carry the power with us, and there is no limit 
 to its use, or to the distance we may go. The supi)ly 
 is inexhaustible. This is an ingenious piece of mech- 
 anism, something after the nuxle of construction in a 
 watch or clock. It is wound up and set going, and 
 keeps all the machinery in action as long as the con- 
 nections are maintained. The whoh; is under complete 
 control, and can be shut otf and thi-own on more 
 readily than an engineer can operate his engine. Get 
 in now, and I will show you the movements while we 
 take a ride, so that afterward you can handle the 
 chariot with ease and perfect safety." 
 
 Without illustrations sho'vWng the parts it is imi)os- 
 sible to give the reader a fully intelligent description 
 of the chariot or its woi-king machinery. 
 
 We seated ourselves for a ride, Mr. Solon having 
 wound up the machine and made everything ready 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 105 
 
 under my eye. We went some miles into the country, 
 sailing low and high. At first Mr. Solon did all the 
 engineering. Then he placed the handle of the lever 
 in my hands, and assisted me to learn all the move- 
 ments. At the end of a couple of hours I felt myself 
 master of the situation, and we returned home, where 
 I learned how to house the chariot easily and to stop 
 its operations. 
 
 The following day Effie and I took a delightful ex- 
 cursion far into the country. We enjoyed our aerial 
 voyage hugely. It was a new experience, and its 
 novelty added zest to the pleasurable sensations. The 
 view from our highest point of elevation was magnifi- 
 cent and indescrilmble. The city was beneath us, and 
 every part as distinctly visible as could be. The land- 
 scape stretched away in every direction, until in the 
 far distance earth and sky met and kissed each other. 
 Beautiful? Describe it, who can? Busy life every- 
 where; herds feeding; spring flowers blooming; the 
 face of the ground putting on its mantle of gi-een ; the 
 distant hum and murmur of business, of conversation, 
 of insect life, came to the ear in subdued cadence wit-h 
 a strange fascination. The eye and the ear were both 
 greeted by strange experiences, which contrilmted to 
 the exhilaration of the horn-. It was with reluctance 
 that we finally turned our faces homeward, promising 
 ourselves more of these enchanting excm^sions. 
 
 I did not feel entirely satisfied with Mr. Solon's ex- 
 planation of the situation of public affau-s, and so on 
 the evening of this day I remarked to him : 
 
 "Your views of the disturbed condition of society 
 and the culmination of differences in open hostilities 
 do not seem to me adequate to the occasion. There 
 must be some moral as well as political causes at work." 
 
lOG LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " Certainly," wiis his rej)!}'. " I eoufijied my remarks 
 before almost exelusively to the political questions in- 
 volved, and their bearings on business interests. There 
 is a moral side to the subject, and it is really the vital 
 point in the whole matter. Formerly our people had 
 a profound respect for the decisions of a majority in 
 the cases of differences of opinion. That decision was 
 accepted and acquiesced in Avithout hesitation or mm*- 
 murino:; but this desiraljle and necessary feature of 
 public sentiment in a ' government of the people, by 
 the people, and for the people,' has been so weakened 
 that it has lost its former potency for good." 
 
 '' How could that happen ? " I asked in some sm"prise. 
 
 "Like most revolutions of public opinion, by small 
 degrees. It is plain to see now what was not so mani- 
 fest at the time of the incipient stages of this deplora- 
 ble change. Men ceased to respect and obey the laws 
 when the laws did not please them or seemed to conflict 
 with theu- interests. The delator class sought to evade 
 the contracts they had voluntarily made, claiming that 
 necessity compelled them at the time of the contract 
 to make the best terms with the capitalists they could, 
 and that the money-loauer took advantage of their ne- 
 cessitous situation to exact enormous and unjustifiable 
 interest on monies loaned. This, no doubt, in some 
 instances was true. Claiming its truth, the debtor de- 
 clared he was acting on the broad basis of what was 
 really just and right in refusing to pay as he had 
 agi'ced — fii'st the usurious interest, then all interest, 
 and sometunes both interest and principal. From this 
 beginning, with some show of justice in it, the princi- 
 ple of repudiation widened out and took in all matters 
 in the dt)nunn of exchange. All piu'chases wliei-e the 
 buyer felt he had paid too much for an article, whether 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 107 
 
 he really had or not, were not held by him as liinding. 
 You can readily see how this notion of each man to 
 be judg'e of all matters where ho was interested wonld 
 demoralize business and destroy confidence between 
 man and man. 
 
 " Then there has been ever since your time a kind of 
 public acquiescence in the idea that it is not wrong to 
 beat a railroad company or other corporation out of its 
 just dues. Men sometimes prided themselves on get- 
 ting- the best of these institutions. The public tacitly 
 sanctioned the fi-aud, though it was no better than 
 theft or robliery. This weakening of the moral sense 
 soon extended from corporations to individuals. Men 
 would exact more from the government or the public 
 for the sanie service or thing than from a fellow-citizen, 
 and think it all right. It was hardly considered wrong 
 to defraud the government. This debauchery of morals 
 also reached into other arenas. 
 
 " But the worst feature, probably, was the disrespect 
 for and disregard of law. Every man felt himself at 
 liberty to transgress such laws as he did not like. This 
 had a very small beginning. As already intimated, 
 usury laws, as all acts requiring payment of interest 
 came to be termed, were finally regarded by the del)tor 
 class with great disfavor, and were violated without 
 reluctance. The law for the observance of the Sabbath 
 was habitually violated. The laws against gambling 
 and lotteries were all set at naught whereit could be 
 done without detection. The same could be said of a 
 number and variety of statutes. One class of violators 
 might have produced little general effect ; but where so 
 many enactments were trampled upon, it could not do 
 otherwise than In-eed contempt for law, and especially 
 for all laws distasteful to any individual or set of persons. 
 
108 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " But the most disastrous example of law-breakiiij^ 
 was that set by men engaged in tlic traffic of intoxi- 
 cating licjuoivs. Not because each i»articuhir case was 
 worse than otliers, but for tlie reason that such great 
 numbers were engaged in tliis luisiiuss. It did not 
 make any special difference what the law was whi(!h 
 tended to restrict or control the traffic, all were disre- 
 garded much alike. More ado was made over laws 
 prohibiting the sale of intoxicants, for the simple rea- 
 son that this class of hiAvs was more difficidt to violate 
 without detection. But all restrictive legislation was 
 tabooed or only nominally regarded. AMiere license 
 laws prevailed, whether high or low, but more espe- 
 cially where they w^ere high, they were complied with in 
 a sense. Men would secure a license and pay the fee. 
 But nine tenths of the saloons were controlled by the 
 wholesale licpior-dealers, who furnished the supplies 
 and owned the fixtures, but operated in the name of 
 some other pai'ty or parties, who were named as the 
 saloon-keepers. When the saloon which had the 
 li(;ense did not pay well enough, or when it was mm 
 for the piu-pose of seeming an exclusi\'ely respectable 
 trade or patronage, which of course excluded the old 
 topers and habitual drunkards, then a joint was jn'o- 
 vided to catch these unrespcctable drinkers. This 
 joint was frequently operated by the man who held 
 the license, under the direction of the wholesale dealei-, 
 in a side or back room, or under ground. Sometimes it 
 was separate from the licensed establishment entirely. 
 It was always and absolutely illegal. But the bosses 
 of the trade were interested in the sale of liquors to 
 all classes, and so prevented the prosecution of these 
 joints or their keepers. They did not seriously inter- 
 fere with the more aristocratic saloons, as their cus- 
 
LOOIvING WITHIN. 109 
 
 tomers were not desired in tliem as patrons lest they 
 should drive off the respectable drinkers, who would 
 feel themselves insulted and outraged by beastly 
 di'unkenness around them. The business was engaged 
 in solely for the money that conld be made by it ; and 
 to make the most all classes of customers was the end 
 and aim. You can take in the sitnation at a glance. The 
 licensed saloon was gorgeously decorated and made as 
 attractive as possible. Here the drunkards were manu- 
 factured. Wlien fully graduated they were sent down 
 to the joint for final extinction. 
 
 '' This wholesale violation of law was winked at by 
 the politicians for selfish purposes. The liquor-dealers 
 made more money and made it faster than any other 
 class of men in business. They spent it freely to se- 
 cure their trade and traffic. The office-seekers of all 
 parties fed the saloon-keepers and courted the influ- 
 ence of the liquor barons, who controlled an army of 
 voters. Each and all parties were afraid to attack this 
 potential influence. In many places, especially in the 
 large cities, it held votes enough to decide an election 
 and defeat or elect the candidates of either party wliere 
 there was anything like an equal di\dsion of strength 
 between them. They bought up legislators and mem- 
 bers of Congress, bribed courts and juries, procured 
 perjury by wholesale, and run things generally with a 
 high hand. 
 
 " There could be but one result to gTOW out of this 
 persistent disregard of law, and that must be disas- 
 trous. The anarchist claimed, the same right to vio- 
 late the laws he disliked as the liquor men, the gam- 
 blers, or any other class of violaters. ' Whatsoever a 
 man soweth that shaU he also reap.' Those who tram- 
 pled upon the law have been ' so^viug to the wind,' and 
 
110 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 now they are 'reaping tlie wliirlwind.' These great 
 principles must remain true forever. The sowing time 
 has been of long duration ; the harvest will be propor- 
 tionately great, but it promises to be short and de- 
 structive beyond precedent. 
 
 " I am not speaking of these causes of the present 
 condition of things as expressions of my own opinions 
 on the real merits of the matters presented, but as a 
 statement of the simple facts of history as they now 
 stand out clearly in view. You can moraHze upon 
 them as you like. I have only given you prominent 
 examples of the demoralizing forces whose tendencies 
 during many years have culminated in the present up- 
 heaval of the foundations of social order. It looks, 
 too, as if political institutions would be subverted, and 
 lawlessness run riot over the land. 
 
 " I have given you nothing new. All these elements 
 of destruction existed in your day; they have only 
 developed and grown strong. Now they seek for the 
 mastery, and God only knows what the end will be." 
 
 '^ Tlie picture you present is a dark one. With the 
 moral foundations removed, the prospect of an ami- 
 cable adjustment of differences vanishes." 
 
 '' The outlook is a cloud without the silver lining. 
 Our city is probably the least disturbed of any in the 
 country ; so far, it has escaped the turmoil of the past 
 and the tribulation of the present. The reasons for 
 this I will give you at another time." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The following; facts in relation to my home city, I 
 learned from Mr. Solon. He said : 
 
 '' As soon as I got fairly on my feet after the fire, I 
 resolved to turn over a new leaf in business. Always 
 sympathizing with the laboring classes, I tried to have 
 my workmen feel I had an interest in their welfare. 
 The strike which led to the fire was unjustifiable in 
 every sense of the word ; but the event caused me to 
 think more seriously upon the joint obligations of cap- 
 ital and labor. I wished to adjust my l)usiness upon 
 the broad principles of right, and brotherhood between 
 man and man. I read and thought much. I was fa- 
 miliar with all the trite sayings about the mutual de- 
 pendence of capital and labor, and the special rights 
 and privileges of each. Muscle on one side, money on 
 the other. Must these natural friends be made enemies ? 
 
 " So far as I was concerned there should be no war- 
 fare. I had heard of proprietors of plants sharing 
 profits with their workmen. As far as I knew, these 
 methods prospered. But there still remained the sep- 
 aration of classes and interests. After mature dehb- 
 eration my plan was for a union of all parties and in- 
 terests. If capital and labor are natural friends, why 
 not consolidate for mutual welfare! I was willing to 
 trust my workmen. They were honest men ; I would 
 keep no others. Most of them were intelligent. The 
 organization I should })ropose would be a departin-e 
 
 1:1 
 
112 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 from tliose in vofi^ue in that it should he mutitaJ and 
 not exclusive, enil)ra('in<;' both capital and lalior. 
 
 "Havinji; arraii<''ed tlie general plan, I left the men to 
 fix the details. When completed the constitution and 
 by-hiAVs were a model of simplicity and comprehen- 
 siveness. The officers were few and only such as were 
 necessary. We had no autocrats. No man, or commit- 
 tee, was clothed with supreme power. All business was 
 done by the body. Committees were assistants only. 
 Our society was for nuitual protection and benefit. 
 Brotherhood was its motto. Nurses and other aids 
 were provided for in case of sickness. A fund was set 
 aside to assist tliose disabled by illness or accident, and 
 a pension fund for the aged and infirm. All these 
 were well guarded to prevent imposition. 
 
 ''The men named three years' steady employment 
 as the requisite for membership. Probationary mem- 
 bers were admitted at the end of three months. These 
 had no vote or share in the pi'ofits, but possessed all 
 other lights and benefits of the order. The workmen 
 fixed the price of labor, from tlie lowest to the highest 
 skill. Inducements were held out to every one to be- 
 conu' more skillful. Skill was tlie goal of every man's 
 ambition, because it paid. Without adecpiate incentive 
 there can be no improvement. The men also named 
 ten per cent, per annum as the amount of interest I 
 was to receive for capital invested. As insurance and 
 taxes were to be paid out of this it was not too much. 
 
 "All net profits were shared equally by the mem- 
 bers. The natural selfishness of nuni was developed in 
 this matter. The skilled workmen thought they ought 
 to receive more of the profits than the others. There 
 was some prospect of trouble in the settlement of this 
 question. By unanimous agreement it was refen-ed to 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 113 
 
 me for adjustment. I said t<i the skilled workmen : 
 * You have abeady provided pay for your skill in fix- 
 ing the prices of wages agreed upon. If now you get 
 pay again in profits, you will be paid twice for the 
 same thing. This you can see is not right.' The point 
 was clear and acquiescence readily given. 
 
 "A library was provided, filled with choice books on 
 all subjects, and arrangements for its care and over- 
 sight. A lyceum was also instituted. As far as possible 
 we provided for our own moral, intellectual, and phys- 
 ical needs. No intoxicating drinks were permitted in 
 our organization. Total abstinence prevailed. The men 
 voluntarily renounced the use of tobacco in any form. 
 I was elected presiding officer year after year, until by 
 reason of age I declined a reelection. Our elections 
 and terms of office were annual. 
 
 " We have never had a serious jar of dissension, and 
 no disturbance among us. We are a complete society 
 in ourselves. Our interests are a unit. There is no 
 conflict between capital and labor. Like man and 
 wife, the two are one. I own the plant. My owner- 
 ship is conceded and respected. I can dispose of it at 
 pleasure; but no sudden change to damage the men 
 is allowable. The men own themselves and dispose of 
 their labor at will. No discord, no expulsions from 
 the union except for cause. 
 
 " Our profits vary from year to year, according to 
 the demand for our goods. The per cent, of profit is 
 small. It is a cardinal principle of our order to be un- 
 just in nothing, including prices for our wares ; they 
 are as low as can be aff'orded. The highest dividends 
 yet reached amounted to one fifth the wages paid for 
 labor during the year. They are always satisfactory. 
 The bookkeeper is mutually agreed upon. He selects 
 
114 LOOKING WITHIN'. 
 
 his assistants. They audit all claims and accounts and 
 ascertain tlie amount to be distributed as profits. 
 
 " We have prospered greatly. It could scarcely be 
 otherwise when every man emploj^ed is a part of the 
 concern and personally interested in securing the best 
 results attainable. I do not know whether this plan 
 furnishes a solution of the labor-and-capital problem 
 or not. I did not propose it, nor was it adopted, with 
 that end in view. It was simply om- method of unifi- 
 cation. It suited us. It has kept us harmonious. No 
 agitators, reformers, demagogues, or anarchists are 
 permitted to come among us. No men leave us, ex- 
 cept to better their condition. Some of our men have 
 received lucrative appointments; others have been 
 elected, to office. 
 
 " The great success of our enterprise caused others 
 in this city to follow suit more or less perfectly. As a 
 result we have no labor troubles. No enemies have 
 been made who desire revenge. Hence we have es- 
 caped molestation since hostilities commenced, and are 
 likely to escape until all the land is involved." 
 
 " You seem to have made Utopia a reality," I said. 
 
 " By no means. We are neither Utopia nor poetical 
 Arcadia, but simply a community of human beings 
 with all their faults and foibles. There are envies, 
 rivah'ies, and jealousies existing among us, and plenty 
 of selfishness. The grosser elements, which result 
 largely from bad habits and inflamed passions, have 
 been largely eliminated. We have men and women 
 with five talents, two talents, and one talent. These 
 do not always see, think, and act alike. It would be 
 an unpromising dead-level if they did. AMiere there 
 are differences there may be bickerings ; but there is 
 always the promise of improvement and progress. If 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 115 
 
 the man with one talent rejoices that there are other 
 men who can accomplish more and do better than he, 
 when he has done his best, then will harmony grow out 
 of variety, and the best results be attained by diver- 
 sity in unity." 
 
 "What is the present condition of the great cities?" 
 I asked. 
 
 " In most of them, deplorably bad. They are hot- 
 beds of crime. Pauperism prevails to an alarming ex- 
 tent. Politicians have ruled and plundered them so 
 long and continuously they are financially stranded. 
 Virtue and integrity in official positions are almost un- 
 known. The bui'dens of taxation are nearly unbear- 
 able, yet have to l)e endured. The better class of citi- 
 zens either have not the power or lack the courage 
 to free themselves from their bondage. Municipal ad- 
 ministrations are theaters of reckless extravagance, 
 unblushing corruption, and weU-nigh open robbery. 
 Honesty and economy are things of the past. All the 
 large cities are hopelessly crushed with debt, both 
 bonded and for current expenses. Payment of the 
 principal is not seriously considered. It is barely pos- 
 sible to meet the interest as it falls due. No remedy 
 is visible." 
 
 "You draw a dark pictm-e." 
 
 " The picture is there ; I simply unveil it. There are 
 tens of thousands of good people in those cities, some 
 of them the excellent of the earth ; but the majority 
 is composed of the baser population. Large numbers 
 of them are men who neither fear God nor regard man. 
 Crime runs riot. The police are either in league with 
 the criminals or afraid to suppress them. The million- 
 aii-e and the beggar look each other in the face daily. 
 The palatial residences of the rich, and the garrets, 
 
116 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 cellars, niul hovels of the poor are hut a stone's-throw 
 apart. The contrast maddens the vieions who are des- 
 titute, while it is unnoticed by the men of princely 
 wealth. Mammon lailes the hour with the majority on 
 one side; desperation g:rows more reckless and daring 
 on the other. The outcome can scarcely be otherwise 
 than direful." 
 
 " You speak desi)airing'ly." 
 
 "I am usuaUy hopeful and see the bright side of 
 things ; but with war i-aging in the land, men's passions 
 at fever heat, fraternal blood tlowing like water, the 
 hungry and wicked poor on the outlook for plunder 
 and revenge, I confess the light on the dismal scene does 
 not appear." 
 
 " Let us labor and hope for the best. Good may yet 
 come to om* country." 
 
 " I presume there is some compensation for all the 
 ills we are heir to ; but in this case they are invisible 
 to human eyes. At mj^ age I have no desire to witness 
 scenes of carnage, rapine, and devastation; no desu-e 
 to see fratricidal strife where brother sheds his brother's 
 blood. Before these eyes behold such acts, such deeds 
 of crime, I pray that I may be laid quietly away in the 
 silent city of the dead." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The latest iutcllig-eiice from the seat of hostilities 
 was of the most exciting nature. After the first day's 
 fighting- the two main armies had suspended active 
 operations, as previously stated. The fearful fatality, 
 made certain by the numl)er buried, seriously impressed 
 all parties. The number slain exceeded all previous 
 estimates. 
 
 As the President was not a party to the war, and the 
 governoi's of the various States had either remained 
 neutral or taken sides according to their personal or 
 political predilections, there was no really recognized 
 head of either side. The generals in immediate com- 
 mand were in actual control — a condition greatly to be 
 deplored. 
 
 Before the truce expired a new aspect was put upon 
 matters. Two young men, former friends, now rivals 
 for the hand of the same lady, proposed this unique 
 method of settling the national quarrel. These men 
 represented the opposing forces. They would cham- 
 pion their respective armies, and in personal combat 
 decide the differences at issue. Wliich one should 
 prove victor in the duel, his side should dictate con- 
 ditions of peace. All the circumstances combined to 
 favor the proposal. It would save bloodshed and great 
 loss of life and property. 
 
 117 
 
118 LOOKIXH WITHIN'. 
 
 The two men were of the same age, size, weight, and 
 strength. They wei-e permitted to iirraiige the time, 
 phiee, conditions, and weapons of the eonibat. They 
 met. Each knew it was to be a fight to tlie death. The 
 magnitude and peril of the undertaking liad a power- 
 fid and subduing intluenee upon them ; they Avere awed 
 into a feeling which precluded all levity, even forbade 
 ennuty and made them feel as kin. Their old friend- 
 ship, Avhicli had not entirel}' died ont, was revived. 
 Possibly in this newly awakened sensibility they might 
 have receded from the stand they had taken, T)nt for 
 the fact that by jeopartlizing their single lives they 
 might save thousands and tens of thousands of their 
 fellow-soldiers from early and Ijloody graves. This 
 thought made them resolute. In the most calm and 
 deliberate manner they arranged all the details of the 
 (qicountei', as far as these could be anticipated and 
 pi'ovided for. 
 
 The strangest and most exciting part of the whole 
 transaction was the fact that they decided to conduct 
 the cond)at in mid-air in chariots, where the battle 
 would be visible to all who desii'ed to be spectators. 
 The chai'iots were to be exactly alOvC in all respects — 
 bullet-proof, with a shield of armor to protect theu* per- 
 sons. The contest nuist therefore be decided by skill 
 i-ather than force — skill in handling the chaiiot, or in 
 taking advantage of any mistakes either might make. 
 
 After the preliminaries and conditions were all de- 
 termined by the parties themselves, they were reduced 
 to writing l)y the leaders of both sides, signed in tripli- 
 cate, one copy given to the general of each army, and 
 the thii'd deposited by mutual agreement in the safe of a 
 bank for reference in case of any mishap to the other two. 
 
 It would requii'e at least ten days to have the two 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 119 
 
 chariots constructed according to the phins agreed 
 upon, and then two days' practice for the men to be- 
 come fully masters of their respective craft. 
 
 This wonderful event was heralded over the country 
 and the world. The most intense excitement prevailed 
 everywhere. Hundreds, and even thousands, resolved 
 to witness this strange and weird duel in the aii", so 
 unlike anything in the liistory of the w^orld. 
 
 Ordinarily I have no taste for things of this kind ; I 
 never desired to see a fight between two men, or even 
 two dogs ; but I determined to be one of the observers 
 of this anomalous event. It even had a fascination for 
 me. I think it was the romance and not the tragedy 
 that di'cw me to the scene. I asked Effie if she would 
 accompany me, but she decUned. While she partook 
 of the general excitement which everywhere prevailed, 
 she did not wish to see the fatal affray. She interposed 
 no objection to my going, but rather sanctioned it. 
 
 Of course I went by air. It required two days to 
 mak(; the trip, as I lay by over-night and was in no 
 haste. I was there on time. 
 
 I saw the two men as they met and shook hands 
 before ensconcing themselves in their respective war- 
 chariots. They were splendid specimens of solid phys- 
 ical manhood, handsome, muscular, intelligent; noth- 
 ing low or l)rutal in their appearance. I could perceive 
 no sign of bitterness in their looks or acts ; there was 
 no bantering or boasting on either side — no tendency 
 that way. As they parted hands and tm-ned away, I 
 saw stamped on each face an expression of ii'on deter- 
 mination which said more plainly than words, " Vic- 
 tory or death." I knew that at least one of these men 
 would never see the light of another day, or, if he did, 
 it would be with a mangled body, maimed for life. 
 
120 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 At ten o'clock a.m. the si^ial was to be given. Then 
 the men were to commence the ascent. No act of hos- 
 tility Avas to be engaged in, nntil they were five hnn- 
 dred feet in the aii-. The chiiriots were beautifid — 
 polished until they shone like burnished tinsel in the 
 bright sunliglit. Wlien inclosed within them the men 
 were invisil)le from v\'ithout, except in favorable j)()si- 
 tions. They had windows of plated glass of a peculiar 
 tenacity and toughness, so that they would resist a 
 ball fired from a revolver or other small-arm. Through 
 these they could look out and see everj'thing going on 
 around them. 
 
 There were more than two thousand chariots or ships 
 present whose inmates had come from a distance to 
 witness the great event, and as many uu)re from re- 
 gions nearer by. The air was full of vehicles. The 
 ai-ena allotted for the combat was directly over the 
 ground l)etween the two armies. It was marked off 
 by boundaries a thousand feet in diameter, and no 
 ship or chariot was permitted to pass these bounds; 
 nor were the combatants to go beyond the lines during 
 the contest, but as high as tlu'y pleased. 
 
 I understood that the young lady who had so inter- 
 ested these young men was one of the spectators, and 
 that this fact was known to them. Tins gave addi- 
 tional interest to the occasion among the spectators, 
 and doubtless inspii'cd the principals with a resolve to 
 do or die, or l)oth. 
 
 I took a position a little over five huiulred feet from 
 the earth, where I could take in the whole of the one 
 thousand feet. Around me in eveiy dii'eetion were 
 chariots and ships stretching away in the distance. It 
 was a display of sucli strnng<^ and wond(^vful import as 
 would luider other and different circumstances have 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 121 
 
 engaged my whole attention ; now the more striking 
 event absorbed my entire being. Eveiy fiber of my 
 system was wronght up to the liighest tension ; the 
 intensity of feehng was painful when the mind was not 
 occupied elsewhere. 
 
 Tlie antagonists took their positions. Tliere was no 
 haste or trepidation on the part of either. A moment- 
 ary suspense. Every eye was on the two chariots. Two 
 hundred thousand spectators held their breath and 
 waited. A movement. Then the chariots were maneu- 
 vered rapidly and most skillfully, as if to gain some 
 advantage of position. No results. The action of one 
 was so promptly met and checkmated by the other that 
 nothing was gained or lost. By mutual consent they 
 took a rest. Two hundred thousand people breathed 
 easier for the time, and the painful tension was some- 
 what relaxed. 
 
 Then the chaiiots moved again. A series of most 
 rapid and dextrous evolutions followed. Suddenly 
 there was a simultaneous flash of pistols from their 
 respective port-holes, and two reports blended in one. 
 No harm was done. The smoke rose up and rolled 
 away. Another period of active movement, then two 
 more flashes and reports, with the same result as 
 before. 
 
 One of the rules adopted was that no cheering or 
 other noise or sign of appi'oval was to attend the com- 
 bat ; it was to be conducted in silence. All the occu- 
 pants of air-vehicles were charged to observe this rule. 
 All on terra firma were held by the discipline of armies 
 to the utmost quiet. The stillness at times was op- 
 pressive ; it was like the calm which precedes the earth- 
 quake or the cj'clone. 
 
 Another rest. Then a fiercer onslaught than before. 
 
122 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 The cliariots were hui'led agaiust each other with 
 friyflitful violeuee, and the crash of the collision was 
 heard far away. Tliis was followed by another si- 
 multaneous discharge of revolvers. This time the 
 bullets met midway, mingled by the shock into one 
 mass, which fell sullenly and swiftly to the ground 
 beneath. 
 
 At this stage of the contest the combatants withdrew 
 from each other a short distance, resting in watcliful 
 attitude, as if devisuig some new method of attack. 
 Anon a series of most skillful maneuvers to gain some 
 advantage held the speechless attention of all behold- 
 ers. The effort to secure favorable results on either 
 side failed. This was succeeded by attempts to dive 
 under, or fly, or leap over each other j but each was 
 too wary to be caught, and the attempts wei"e aban- 
 doned as fiiiitless. 
 
 The skill displayed in these rapid and constantly 
 changing movements was little shoi't of marvelous. As 
 the combat deepened the beUigerents became more 
 eager and earnest to bring it to a close. Endeavors 
 to catch on the fly, to strike amidships, to find some 
 \^ilnerable spot, were made with a i-apidity and swift- 
 ness that caused dizziness to watch the adroit thrust 
 and apt pany of each side. In spite of the strictness 
 of the rule to observe sOence, a mui'mur of applause, 
 like the hum of insects, arose above the silence. It 
 was promptly hushed. 
 
 The skill of the two charioteers was so perfectly 
 equal that a drawn battle seemed to be the only j3rob- 
 able, if not the only possible, termination of the contest. 
 No such thought as this, however, found a i»laee in the 
 mind of either of the i)rinei])als, if judged by their 
 acts. It was willi tlieni a l)attle to a decisive conclu- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 123 
 
 sion. With them a di'awn battle meant a double death. 
 Another hour passed without essential change. 
 
 "Long time in even scale the battle hung." 
 
 At length, after having failed to win by skill, the 
 duehsts began a regular assault. The chariots were 
 hurled against each other with such vehement force 
 as to threaten their utter demolition. As they came 
 together on one occasion, the larger port-holes were 
 opened, and pistol-shots fired in rapid succession, until 
 the six chambers of each revolver were emptied. For 
 a moment the smoke enveloped the scene, the chariots 
 were hidden, the residt unseen. Then a breeze drove 
 the smoke away, and no harm could be discerned. 
 Each had failed to send a ball through the port of the 
 other on a fatal mission, and the chariots were un- 
 harmed. 
 
 Distant thunder now announced the coming of a 
 storm, in which heaven's artillery was to play a part. 
 If the combatants noticed this fact it was not percepti- 
 ble to those who were spectators of then* actions. That 
 the vast multitude of onlookers were not indifferent to 
 this coming event was evident from their manifested 
 anxiety. 
 
 Presently the chariots moved wider apart, as if to 
 withdraw from the further prosecution of what gave 
 promise so far of a bootless encounter and a hopeless 
 attempt to reach definite results. Not so. Like two 
 mighty bii'ds of prey intent upon the destruction of a 
 foe, they suddenly flew upon each other with a fierce- 
 ness hitherto unseen, unfelt. The crash of the shock 
 rang out so loud that distant ears heard it clearly, and 
 a louder attempt at ai)plause was only checked by the 
 stern orders of the officers in command. 
 
124 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 How long could the chariots resist such rough usage ? 
 The .storm drew near, yet so excited was every one 
 that its ai)proa('li attracted no attenticjn. Twice, thrice, 
 were the clitu-iots thus hui-led like cannon-balls against 
 each other, without visil)le effect. Then they withdi'ew 
 still farther apart than before, and jjut on all the power 
 at command. I could see the faint blue of the electric 
 flame as tlie dynamos were worked to their fidlest 
 i-apaeity. 
 
 Just at this moment a fleecy cloud, white as the vapor 
 of steam, the advan(!e-courier of the coming storm, 
 came down Hke a flying shroud, driven by a gust of 
 wind, and enveloped the chariots. For a brief time 
 nothing could be seen in this environment of cloud but 
 the lurid flames of electrieity flashing out amid the 
 gloom. E^'idently the occupants were keeping iip the 
 power to the utmost. Tlie scene was wild and weu-d 
 beyond the power of language to express. The hush 
 and suspense wei-e such as had never fallen upon such 
 a scene. Ah, no such scene liad ever before been wit- 
 nessed by men ! As suddenly as it had floated down 
 upon the field of strife, the cloud was lifted up on the 
 wings of the wind and carried away. There rested the 
 chariots, i-eady for instant action. A combat amidst 
 the clouds ! 
 
 I iustinctiveh^ prepared for something unusual, deci- 
 sive. A moment they poised, as if in the balances of 
 fate, then, like two engines at speed of a hundi'ed miles 
 an hour, they nished together with a clash that rang 
 out over jdl the region around, loud and fierce. The 
 shock was too gi*eat. The metal yielded. The chariots 
 were broken in ])ieces, hurled bottimi u])ward, hehl a 
 moment in air, then fell to the earth with fi-ightfid 
 rapidity. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 125 
 
 I had set my machinery in readiness for motion al- 
 most instinctively, and before the broken chai-iots were 
 half-way in their descent I was speeding down toward 
 the spot where the shattered vehicles must reach the 
 ground. Hundreds of others followed my example as 
 soon as they could get ready. 
 
 Just as the two dismantled chariots with their human 
 freight struck the soil, a piercing scream of agony rang 
 out, so full of unspeakable anguish it almost chilled 
 the blood. I was told it came from the young lady 
 who, in a sense, had been the cause of this strange 
 event. Happily she fainted away and became uncon- 
 scious before her eyes gazed upon the scene which was 
 soon unfolded. 
 
 It was a horrible sight we looked upon. Both men 
 were quite dead. Whether killed by the shock in air, 
 or by the fall and concussion, could not be told. They 
 were badly bruised, and mangled masses of flesh and 
 bones, yet then- faces were but slightly disfigured. 
 Each countenance wore the same stern set of determi- 
 nation which I had observed at the outset, but no bitter- 
 ness or mark of revenge was visible. It was a drawn 
 battle ; and what a terrible one ! 
 
 All sense of surrounding things appeared to be lost 
 in the one tragic event which absorbed all thought, all 
 interest, all sympathy. But the storm, unmoved by 
 human woe or joy, came on apace. Hundreds rushed 
 to the spot where the ruined chariots and dead men lay, 
 while thousands were held back and in check by rigid 
 discipline. Before an intelligent effort was made to 
 remove the remains of the dead heroes, a bolt of light- 
 ning flashed out of the depths of the cloud, and, as 
 those wlio saw it said, divided, one fork striking the 
 flagstaff of one ami}-, the other the opi)osite ; both, with 
 
126 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 their respective flags shivered into shreds, were hurled 
 in torn fragments to the gi'ound. 
 
 The sui)erstiti()iis regarded tliese two events, the 
 fierce and indecisive battle of the men, and the destiiic- 
 tion of flagstafTs and flags at the same time, as an 
 augnrv or an omen of the outcome of the war should 
 it continue, and as a warning to cease hostilities which 
 should not be disregarded. These prognostications 
 were not without their effect upon both sides, and a 
 truce of thirty days was agi'eed upon for the pm-pose 
 of coming to an amicable settlement of differences if 
 possible. 
 
 The young men were buried with great honors in 
 one grave, over which their friends erected a fine and 
 costly monument. 
 
 A strong and persistent effort was made for peace by 
 the better men on both sides of the contest. Success 
 would have attended their endeavors but for the un- 
 reasonable demands of the extremists, who insisted upon 
 unconditional surrender. A settlement on honorable 
 terms to all would finally have been reached ))ut for the 
 element of irreconcilaljles, who, having nothing of theii* 
 own, could lose nothing, and had all to gain. These 
 insisted that the capitalists were alarmed and woidd 
 yield to a full and complete division of property if 
 firmly held to it ; but if they woidd not, then push the 
 war and compel them to do so. Tliese extremists, who 
 never should have been listened to for a moment, ulti- 
 mately prevailed, and a peaceful termination of differ- 
 ences failed. Nothing then remained but to resume 
 hostilities and fight it out to a bloody conclusion, even 
 if the whole country should be desolated by the ravages 
 of war. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 I RETURNED liome sooii after the aerial combat, and 
 awaited the result of the negotiations already men- 
 tioned. When the inevitable became known, I resolved 
 as far as possil)le to keep aloof from the straggle. I 
 had no reason to participate on either side. I detested 
 war. I saw no jnstifiable grounds for this biiital strife 
 among brethren. That it would be a long, and san- 
 gTiinary contest none could doubt. I dreaded the idea 
 of witnessing the scenes of carnage, the dead and dying, 
 the desti'uction of hfe and property, and general devas- 
 tation. There surely could be no adequate compensa- 
 tion for all these horrible deeds. No human foresight 
 could penetrate the dark and dismal futm-e. 
 
 I detei'mined to turn my effects into cash as far as 
 possiljle, and be prepared for any emergency. I had 
 mapped out a plan of action, which could not at pres- 
 ent be put in execution. I must wait. Time was an 
 important factor in this matter. 
 
 I had one hundi-ed thousand dollars in government 
 bonds. They were now out of date. Would they be 
 redeemed at this late day ? By inquiry I learned that 
 the bonded debt had been paid off long ago ; all out- 
 standing bonds had been called for. I confided to no 
 one that I possessed these bonds, and determined to go 
 to Washington to ascertain if I could realize on them. 
 At first payment was refused. The bonds were a curi- 
 
 127 
 
128 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 osity. None liad Ixioii seen by any of the heads of the 
 departments. I pressed my ehdm, \vhieh all coidd see 
 was just. Finally, investigation revealed the fact that 
 these ideutieal honds had l)een called for, and money 
 appropriated for theii' redemption. A full cabinet, ad- 
 vised by the attorney-general, approved their pajTnent. 
 They were paid in full, with interest to maturity. I 
 retm-ned home much gi-atified over my success. This 
 was the last of the national debt caused by the Wai* of 
 the Rebellion. 
 
 In the meantime active hostilities had been resumed 
 at the end of the last truce ; all the hoiTors of interne- 
 cine war were being enacted. The strife was extending 
 on all sides ; more and more the people were being 
 di-awn into it. Before the battle near Chicago was 
 fought to its bloody conclusion, that city was set on 
 fire by the baser elements of its own popidation and 
 utterly destroyed. So rapid was the spread of the 
 flames that thousands of people were caught in the con- 
 flagration, and great numbers perished ; others iiished 
 into the waters of the lake to escape the fire, and were 
 drowned. Pestilence followed, taking off more than 
 the fire, the waters, and the armies combined. They 
 who had fii*ed and plimdered the city soon paid for 
 tlieir wickedness by the ravages of the disease to which 
 they fell victims. Little good had they of theii- ill- 
 gotten lucre. 
 
 New Orleans and other cities of the great Mississippi 
 Basin met with a fate similar to that of Chicago. Then 
 came the cry, " On to New York ! " This city was re- 
 garded as the head center of capital and the aristocracy 
 of wealth. It was the peculiar aversion of the masses 
 who espoused the cause of labor. Wall Street was the 
 especial abomination and object of hatred of the lev- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 129 
 
 elers. Chicago and licr ganihlers in grain, produce, 
 and stock had been wiped out ; now New York must 
 follow, with a more terrible punishment, if that were 
 possible. 
 
 It is not the purpose of these pages to follow and 
 record the events of the fratricidal war which desolated 
 the country from center to circumference. So gi-eat 
 and fierce became the struggle, some divines declared 
 it was the great battle of Aj*mageddon whieli John 
 describes in Revelation. When New York fell, it was 
 pronounced the fall of Babylon. One minister read as 
 his lesson on Sabbath morning selections from the 
 eighteenth chapter of Revelation, and applied the same 
 to New York. Of course this minister was on the side 
 of labor, and desired that what he read might aj^ply to 
 the fated city. This incident goes to show how bitter 
 was the feeling existing, and how little of the s^nrit 
 of Christ was manifested even by those claiming to ])e 
 His messengers — teachers sent by Him to proclaim to 
 men the gos2)el of peace and love, " good- will to men," 
 and forgiveness to enemies. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TuRXiXG fi'om the arena of strife, the more personal 
 thread of this narrative will be i-esumed. While the 
 events were transpiring in the great national theater 
 which made of om'countiy a vast arena of tui-moil and 
 devastation, Mr. and Mrs. Solon became more and more 
 feeble. Efi&e was made heii' in her own right of all the 
 Solon estate, real and personal. 
 
 jNIeantime, by consent of all parties, Eflfie and I wei'e 
 married on the 9th day of Ajiril, 1928. Tliis hnpp}- 
 event was like simshine amidst the surround ini>- dark- 
 ness. It was the consummation of our eartlily hopes, 
 the crowning gioiy of our love. 
 
 All the employees of the Solon works united in a re- 
 quest to ha^■e the nuptial ceremony pei'formed in tlie 
 church, that they might witness it. Our personal pref- 
 erence was for a private wedding in the presence of a 
 few chosen friends; but w^e knew this recpiest came 
 from the hearts of the people who made it, that it was 
 an expression of respect and affection for Mr. Solon 
 aiul his family, a compliance with which Avould greatly 
 gi'atify them. The request was granted. The ceremony 
 was simi)le and impressive. Then came hearty con- 
 gi'atiilations fi'oiu the army of workmen and their 
 families, which we knew were sincere. It was a happy 
 hour, and a precious memory never to be forgotten. 
 
 Two years later Mr. and Mrs. Solon died, a few hours 
 apart, and were buried together beneath the monument 
 
 130 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 131 
 
 already erected on a beautiful lot in Sunset Hill Ceme- 
 tery, They had long- desired to leave the world to- 
 gether, and this wish was realized. They also escaped 
 being witnesses to the fearful and ghastly ravages of 
 the fratricidal war which raged so fiercely over the land. 
 Our city still escaped. 
 
 The remains of these dear ones were followed to their 
 last resting-place by every person connected with the 
 establishment Mr. Solon had founded. They brought 
 rich floral tributes to decorate the church, the caskets, 
 and the grave. Hundreds of eyes were wet with tears 
 as the minister spoke of the good couple who had ex- 
 changed mortal for immortal life. I had never wit- 
 nessed such a scene — so many people mourning as for 
 a dear friend. It was heart-felt gi*ief — no hired laments. 
 It was a tribute of love few kings of all the ages have 
 received. It was the spontaneous homage paid to a 
 noble man. 
 
 After the solemn rites were over and Effie and I were 
 seated in our quiet home, I said to her : 
 
 " How is it that all these people are so attached to 
 your father ? They desired with one voice to be present 
 at our wedding ; now they turn out in a body to attend 
 the funeral. They weep as for one near and dear to 
 them." She answered: 
 
 " My father always treated his workmen as his equals. 
 He was their companion and counselor. He listened to 
 the story of their troubles ; he sympathized with them 
 in their sickness, trials, and bereavements ; he wept with 
 them when they wept ; he shared their joys and joyed 
 with them ; he made their welfare his constant concern. 
 He was one of them in their organization. He never 
 held them off or nuide them feel that he was better and 
 more to be respected and reverenced than they were. 
 
132 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 He shared as one of them in the dividends of the busi- 
 ness, because they said he o;ave as much time and hibor 
 to the concern as any man connected with it. He never 
 used these dividends for himself ; they were all devoted 
 to benevolences of some kind. If the families of any 
 of the workmen were sick, the doctor's bill would be 
 sent in receipted ; if there were deaths, the undertaker's 
 ])ill was paid and the receipt passed over. Family 
 supplies would be furnished in cases of long illness or 
 other disaT)liug misfortune. In special cases not pro- 
 vided for by the general fund, nurses would l^e hii-ed 
 and paid. If a family was in need, or if not in need, 
 which has l)een a rare occurrence, if a little aid in a 
 pinch would tide over a difficulty, ten, twenty, or fifty 
 dollars would find theii' way into such a household and 
 bring relief. Two were thus made happy, the giver and 
 the receiver. Father enjoyed aiding those in need as 
 much as anything else he did. 
 
 " It was a long time before the recii^ients of these 
 kindnesses learned who their benefactor was. Father 
 followed the du-ection not to let one hand know what 
 the other did in such matters. He would have been 
 glad if the secret had never been divulged ; but it was 
 impossible to hide the facts permanently. Wlien the 
 men and their families learned who the unknown bene- 
 factor and watchful friend was that always came to their 
 aid in exactly the light time, they liecame more deeply 
 attached to him than ever. I am fully persuaded they 
 would have risked their own lives to save his. They 
 would receive favors from him when their pride would 
 have refused to accept the same aid from others. 
 Somehow it did not seem like charity coming from him, 
 but more like assistance to a child from a loving and 
 thoughtful parent. They coidd not refuse a benefit 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 133 
 
 from him, because they felt sure it would cause him 
 regret and rob him of a real source of happiness. 
 
 " These are some of the reasons why these people are 
 all genuine mouimers now, and why they desired to 
 see us married and give us their benediction on that 
 event. It was not idle ciu'iosity but sincere regard 
 which prompted them on that occasion." 
 
 " I see. I understand, too, why it has been suggested 
 that proper affiliation and sympathy between employers 
 and emph)yees would solve the vexed problem of labor 
 and capital. If every employer had done as your father 
 did with employees, this terrible war would have been 
 an impossibility. Talk about these men who wept at 
 3^our father's grave taking up arms to destroy him ! 
 As well think of you and me going to wai* ! How much 
 better every way, how much less expensive to both labor 
 and capital, such a conrse, than this war and wholesale 
 destruction of the accumulation of generations, leaving 
 out the frightful slaughter of human beings — of brother 
 arrayed in deadly feud with brother. Why were not 
 men wiser ? " 
 
 '' Yon forget," said Ef&e, 'Hhat as all employers were 
 not like father, so all workmen were not like his. It 
 rcquu'es both sides to be composed of the right material 
 for the outcome to be as in this case. Bad laborers are 
 as much in the way of beneficial achievements as are 
 bad employers." 
 
 I saw the point. Men are what they are, what they 
 have made themselves. The war was on. Passions 
 were at white heat. There was no prospect of peace 
 anywhere in sight. Reflections on what might have 
 been could do no good. Wliat should ive do — we two, 
 who had no interest in the quarrel, no hand in bringing 
 about the trouble, no hatred or revenge to gratify? 
 
134 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 Should we wait until disaster reached us, or should we 
 escape ? Where could we flee ? What avenue of escape 
 was open to us ? Where could we find a peaceful ref- 
 uge ? Europe was unsettled and bi-istling with arms. 
 The New World was a volcano. The islands of the 
 ocean might be disturlDcd by the turmoil at any time. 
 If we could ''take the wings of the morning and lly to 
 the utt(n'most parts of the earth," could we secure rest 
 and peace there ? Life was before us ; but what a life ! 
 And we were strangers to all that had wrought this 
 change of a generation ; we were not a part of the surg- 
 ing tides of commotion lashed into fury on all sides. 
 
 It did not take me long to reach a conclusion as to 
 what was best for us to do. But would Effie consent ? 
 There was one place of refuge, and one only, so far as. 
 human foresight could peneti'ate the unseen future. As 
 soon as time dulled a little the edge of grief over oui* 
 doul)le loss of parents, I would broach the subject to 
 Efiie. My plan was for us to take another protracted 
 Uiip, and wake up when the war Avas over. 
 
 Not to i)rol()ng the matter or wt'ary the reader, when 
 the time came I spoke of the plan to Eflfie. At first she 
 shrank from the ordeal; but it l)ecame less and less 
 repugnant as she thought upon it. When I finally pic- 
 tured the Avave of desolation coming to our own home, 
 with its possible fatal results to one or both of us, the 
 tlioiight of her seeing me or of I seeing her the victim 
 of l)rutal and maddened passion swept away the last 
 vestige of opposition or evrn of reluctance. Anythirig 
 was Ix'ttor than the awful clianccs of this ghastly Avar. 
 
 We at once commenced i)re])aratioiis. The l)usiness 
 of the Avorks AA'as intrusted to the foreman and book- 
 keeper, Avith instruetions to carry out Mv. Solon's 
 methods to the letter. How long we might be gone 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 135 
 
 was uncertain ; and we gave no hint of our purpose. 
 Until our return aU things must go on as before. In 
 ease of death or removal their successors must carry 
 out the same instructions and have everything in shape 
 to render a just and faithful account of the steward- 
 ship. 
 
 We turned as much property into cash as possible, 
 selecting gold and greenbacks as the most desb-able 
 representatives of value. The funds wei-e safely de- 
 posited in the room of stone in the liiU. We also placed 
 there the most elegant and latest improved patterns of 
 an air-chariot and au'-ship. When aU the preliminaries 
 were arranged and everything was in readiness, we 
 paid a farewell visit to the grave of Mr. and Mrs. Solon, 
 shed tears of love and regret over their sleeping dust, 
 not knowing but the graves of the dead might l»e oblit- 
 erated by the violence of war. We took leave of our 
 friends, and in the quiet of evening, taking care that 
 no one shoidd see us, we repaired to our cozy quarters 
 in the solid rock. 
 
 Once within the sacred spot — sacred to us because of 
 the many dehghtfid hours of love-Ufe we had enjoyed 
 there — ^we sat down to consider and converse for the 
 last time before passing into a long forgetfulness. The 
 length of time we should sleej) was discussed. As we 
 both had vivid experience on the subject, there was 
 reaUy no dread or teri'or at the prospect ]:)cfore us. On 
 the contrary, as we contemplated the perils and repul- 
 sive scenes from which we were escaping, there was 
 something of pleasure and gladness in our ability to do 
 so. This may not have been sturdy bravery, or free 
 from selfishness, but it was in its way gratif jdng. Eflfie 
 suggested ten years as the duration of our sleep. I 
 favored a longer time. Ten years might not end the 
 
136 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 war. If tlie war itself should he ended, the damage 
 and waste it slionld cause could not he repaired in twice 
 ten years. Effie said : 
 
 '' Fix the time to suit yourself, only do not let it be 
 too long." 
 
 This was satisfactoiy to me. I had the duration of 
 the period of repose fixed in my own mind, but did not 
 wish to name it to Effie. She would regard it as too 
 long. Having much to say, tlie hours of converse 
 reached fai' into the night before we felt like saying 
 good-night. Purposely I prolonged the sweet hours 
 of delight until I knew it was morning. I desii'ed 
 it to be morning when we should awake. Every- 
 thing being arranged and placed in order, I prepared 
 the draughts, each taking one, which we were to swal- 
 low sinuiltaneously. Composing ourselves, the potions 
 were taken; then, quietly resting ui^on our j)illows, 
 with " Good-night, love," on the Ups of each, we entered 
 the land of forgetf ulness. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 My first sensation after the loss of consciousness 
 was the same as in my pre\'ious awakening. This was 
 simply a repetition of my former experience until fully 
 awake and in possession of my faculties. The first 
 thought was of EflBe. She had awakened at the same 
 moment. It was dark within those solid waUs, hut we 
 said in the darkness, " Good-morning, love," at the 
 same time touching hands, as though it had been the 
 sleep of a few hours. I struck a match and lighted 
 the lamp. Efiie's first remark was : 
 
 " This has been but a short nap. You did not ad- 
 minister a very potent draught, I guess." 
 
 '' So I should believe, but for my former experience ; 
 but if I made no mistake, and I am quite sui-e I did 
 not, it is just seventy years since we said ' good-night ' 
 and went to sleep." 
 
 " Seventy years ! " she exclaimed, almost in affright. 
 
 "Yes, seventy years. It was 1930 then. I deter- 
 mined to wake up in the year 2000. So here we are. 
 Shall we go out and look at the world ? " 
 
 " Of com-se. What else can we do ? " 
 
 " If the change is as great as it was for half the time 
 in my former experiment, we shall recognize veiy 
 little of anything we see. I am prepared for almost 
 any sort of surpi'ises." 
 
 " I too. I hope the war is over." 
 137 
 
138 LOOKING WITHIN, 
 
 "Oh, it must hv, long", long ago. If it had continued 
 these seventy years all the people would have perished." 
 
 We dressed very deliberately and with some care, 
 not knowing what might greet us on entering the arena 
 of active life. 
 
 " I wonder if the fashions have greatly changed in 
 these seventy years. They must certainly," remarked 
 Efl&e as she put the finishing touches to her toilet. The 
 instinctive thought of di-ess natural to women came 
 into her mind. 
 
 " Quite likely," I rej^lied ; " though at the end of 
 thii'ty-five years gentlemen's attire had not so mate- 
 rially clianginl as to draw marked attention to my cos- 
 tume." Effie looked so charming in any fashion of 
 di'ess 1 felt that every one who saw her must admire. 
 
 " I should prefer not to appeal* odd," she said, half 
 to herself, half to me. 
 
 When ready we sallied out to see what was to be 
 seen. Quiet reigned. There was little noise or confu- 
 sion. We passed on into the city. There was not the 
 change I had exj)ected to witness — nothing compara- 
 ble to the changes of the thii'ty-five years of my former 
 absence. There was more sameness in everything. 
 The houses were all much alike ; the sm-roundings 
 almost fac-similes one of another. There was no liiu'ry, 
 no rush of business, no bustle of any description. 
 
 "It must be Sunday," I said. "It is enth-ely too 
 (piiet and still for every-day life." 
 
 Effie made no reply; she appeared to be absorbed 
 in thoughts or meditations of her own. I followed the 
 direction of her eye and saw two ladies moving along 
 the street. After a moment she said : 
 
 " The style of di-ess is different. I shaU appear anti- 
 quated in my garb." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 139 
 
 I presume the ladies will understand Effie's feelings 
 better than I did. I fear my sympathy for her in this 
 trying hour was not very deep, perhaps not what it 
 ought to have been. 
 
 We passed on into the heart of the city and met 
 more people. I noticed the attention of the ladies was 
 attracted toward Effie. I felt it was her beauty they 
 were admiring. She was handsome as a peri, and none 
 of them was compai'able to her in my estimation. She 
 understood the situation better, as this remark proved. 
 
 " These women think I am dressed like a fright. See 
 how they are all gazing at my costume." 
 
 ''It is your beauty, not yom* di'ess, that attracts 
 their notice. I am proud of you." 
 
 " Oh, fudge ! Women are never attracted that way 
 by the beauty of other women. Don't you know they 
 always inspect to criticise each other ? " 
 
 " No. Is that the way you do f " 
 
 ''Possil)ly a httle. I used to follow the custom, but 
 was cured of the practice by a lecture f i-om my mother 
 in my younger days — at least, nearly cured." 
 
 " I presmne I shall never understand your sex," 
 I remarked musingly. We moved on. Pres(mtly I 
 inquii*ed: "Would you not like to visit the old 
 home ? " 
 
 " Yes, of all things I would, if it will appear natural." 
 
 "Nothing seems natural. There must have l)een a 
 complete revolution of things since we left the world. 
 Yonder comes an elderly gentleman. He can tell us, 
 perhaps." 
 
 As he approached I asked him : 
 
 "Can you point us the way to Mr. Solon's resi- 
 dence ! " 
 
 The man looked confused. The question was either 
 
140 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 a surprise to liiiii, or lie was at a loss for uii auswer. 
 After a little pause, lie replied : 
 
 "I tliiuk there is no man named Solon in the eity. 
 I have a faint i-eeolleetiou of haviny; heard the name 
 when I was a small l)oy. There used to Ijc lar<j;e ma- 
 chine works over there," pointin.i,^ to the rijiht, ''known 
 then as the 'Solon Machine- Works.' I can just re- 
 member the fact. But all that is chaujj^ed now. The 
 g-overumeiit, you know, owns ever^'thinj^", carries on 
 all the l)usiness t)f the country, and so individuals have 
 dropped out of business existence, and are no longer 
 proprietors of establishments." 
 
 " Did I understand you to say the g-o\'ernment owns 
 everything now ? " I asked. 
 
 He looked at me as if doul)ting the sincerity of my 
 query or my sanity, but seeing my evident honesty in 
 the premises, lie answered : 
 
 "Yes, everything. Wliere have you been not to 
 know this f I pei'ceive now by your di-ess you are not 
 exactly like the rest of us. It has been such a long 
 time since the govermuent took possession of every- 
 tliing in the country, I am really astonished to find 
 any one ignorant of the fact." 
 
 " Please excuse my ignorance. I presume the former 
 residence of Mr. Solon is now owned by the govei'n- 
 ment and is not in private hands." 
 
 "Certainly. Nothing is in private hands. Wlien 
 peace was declared all things were made common and 
 passed into the possession of the government. When a 
 very small l)oy, I used to pass an elegant edifice known 
 then as the residence of a Mr. Solon. It is so long ago 
 I had forgotten about it when you first mentioned the 
 matter. It now comes to me like a dream. I had not 
 thought of it for years. I think you wUl iiud the place 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 141 
 
 in that direction," pointing where I knew the dwelling 
 was if standing. " Bnt you are too young to have ever 
 seen Mr. Solon. He has been dead many years. Let 
 me see — it nnist be seventy years since he died. I think 
 it was in 1980 ; and you cannot be much over thu'ty 
 years of age." 
 
 " Thank you, su-," I said, seeing the conversation was 
 drifting into a channel I did not desu-e to have it take. 
 *'We are greatly obhged for your kindness and will 
 trouble you no fm-ther." 
 
 The reader may be surprised that I should ask a 
 stranger concerning a place I was entu'ely famihar 
 with. My desu'c was to obtain information of the situa- 
 tion of affairs, and not of localities. Nothing appeared 
 natural. I had learned more than I expected, and yet 
 knew enough only to ])e bewildered. What business 
 had the government with Effie's home ? I kept tliink- 
 ing, but said little. 
 
 We set out in the direction of the old home. How 
 different all things seemed from what they were when 
 we left the city — yesterday ? So it appeared to us. As 
 we looked this way and that, saw the impress of age and 
 the wear of time upon everything visible, we coidd well 
 beheve that threescore and ten years had passed since 
 our feet had trod these streets the last time. Some old 
 landmarks could be recognized, though changed. 
 
 When we reached the old home the landscape was in 
 a degi'ee familiar ; but the house had been remodeled 
 to some extent, so as to render it as far as possible to 
 conform to other residences. Its stately proportions 
 and elegant design could not be obhterated, only 
 modified. It was still the most elegant and finely 
 constriicted building in the \dcinity. The beautiful 
 surroundings, the trained flowers and ornamental 
 
142 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 shrubbery of other years, were in a state of neglect and 
 decay sad to look iipon. 
 
 Effie gave a sigli as the transformed appearance of 
 her liome took from it all the attractions which made 
 it near and dear to her. The flowers she had trained 
 with such eare were gone. No trace of the work of lier 
 deft fingers remained. All the associations which made 
 the place sacred to her were missing. Looking on the 
 scene was mncli Uke standing by the gi-ave of a loved 
 friend. 
 
 "Let us leave here," she said. "There is nothing 
 left for me to love or cherish. Only if I could have 
 possession again I would soon restore it to the dear old 
 home once more. And why is it not mine f Who had 
 the right to wrest this jiropei'ty from me ? By what 
 authority or rule of right could I be dispossessed of my 
 lawful inheritance? Wliat has the world come to? 
 Has the government become a wholesale robber?" 
 
 " I presume we shall have to wait and learn," I said. 
 " It all seems so strange, so unnatural, and we are such 
 utter strangers in this our native land, it will require 
 patience and self-denial, perhaps, to adjust ourselves 
 to the new order of things. I remember how I felt 
 after my first adventure ; and the change now appears 
 to be far more radical and overwhelming. If all the 
 old gentleman says is true, I suppose you own al)out 
 one hundred-millionth part of your own property, and 
 I the same of mine. It is idle to speculate luitil we 
 know more of the facts. Possibly the government 
 owns us as well as our property. We shall have to 
 learn that also." 
 
 We had been walking away from the vicinity of the 
 place once called home, and were now some little dis- 
 tance off. I said : 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 143 
 
 '' Let US get something to eat, and tlien go l>ack to 
 our home in the rocks. That is still oui-s, and they 
 cannot take it from us until they find it." 
 
 "Yes, it is time we had something, for the stomach's 
 sake, after our long fast. I had forgott(>n all ahout that 
 need, but since you mention it I believe I do feel a sense 
 of hunger. And I really long to get l)ack home and 
 find time to think. I am getting lost and must find 
 myself." 
 
 Our personal adventures in getting a meal were an- 
 nojdng to us, but not of general interest. We found 
 that neither gold, silver, nor gi'eenbacks was cuiTent 
 money ; government scrip was the only curi-ency. We 
 had none of it. Our money would not be taken as pay 
 for the dinner we had ordered and eaten. We were 
 embarrassed, confused, and knew not what to do. A 
 gentleman came to our relief, and paid for our meal in 
 his scrip, taking a five-dollar gold piece in exchange — 
 as a cm-iosity, he said. 
 
 Perplexed by our ignorance of the existing order of 
 things, we hastened back to our retreat. Once safely 
 there, we sat down to consider the situation. Yester- 
 day, as it were, we were rich ; to-day we had not where- 
 with to procure food. Yesterday we had homes ; to- 
 day were strangers in our native land, and aliens from 
 our own homes. We had been despoiled, robbed of 
 everything, and were penniless with thousands in our 
 safe. Wliat should we do ? What coidd we do ? If I 
 could only find employment to meet our pressing needs ! 
 But if government possessed everjii-hing there was no 
 one left to give employment. We had not learned the 
 true status of affairs, that the government owned us 
 as well as our property, and would give us food, cloth- 
 ing, and shelter in exchange for work. We were too 
 
144 LOOKING 'V^^THIN. 
 
 confused to seek for proi)er iuformation ; possibly too 
 proud to expose our ignorance, more probably too sen- 
 sitive. The situation was serious. The longer it was 
 contemplated the more aj^parent its desperation ap- 
 peared. It was cold, stern reality that stared us in the 
 face — an apparition tliat would not down. Suddenly a 
 ray of light penetrated the gloom, as I believed, and I 
 said to Effie : 
 
 " I think I see tlie way out. I have a large amount 
 of greenbacks ; so have you. These are promises of the 
 government to pay. I do not believe it will repudiate 
 its own obligations. At any rate I -wtU test the matter. 
 I remember my bonds ^vere taken up and paid for when 
 presented out of time. AMiy not the greenbacks ? " 
 
 "You may succeed. Better try, at any rate. But 
 everything is so strange and so changed, I have my 
 doubts. Anj^thing is better than suspense. One thing, 
 however, nnist be provided for : we must both live w^hile 
 you go to Washington." 
 
 " I can arrange that. You go to sleep for a period 
 of five days ; I wdll be back by that tune. I will pro- 
 vide for my own wants." 
 
 This was agi-eed to and carried out. Wlien I reached 
 Washington I scarcely recognized anything, so complete 
 Avas the change. The city was there, the brick, stone, 
 and mortar, nnicli as I had seen it. But the machinery 
 of government was altogether different. The red tape 
 was about the same. The departments bore but little 
 resemblance to their former appearance. The whole 
 aspect of things was changed inside and outside of the 
 government buildings. 
 
 I liad great difficulty in getting a hearing at all. At 
 first my proposition for the government to redeem its 
 promises was treated almost with contempt and derision. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 145 
 
 It was declared that an entirely new era and new order 
 of affairs had been established ; that all old obligations 
 had ceased with the acceptance by the people of the 
 present system of things. I went to the President, a 
 clever but not very brilhant man. He was kind, but 
 gave me no encouragement. Finally I succeeded in 
 getting the executive council together — in my day 
 termed a meeting of the cabinet. Here the whole ques- 
 tion was discussed. I explained my situation : how I 
 came to be here on the stage of action so young, and 
 yet over a hundi*ed years old ; how my property and 
 that of my wife had been taken without our consent, 
 and without any consideration or equivalent, leaving 
 us destitute. Now it was proposed to take from us 
 all that remained of value. I need not repeat all that 
 transpired. Suffice it to say that finally it was con- 
 cluded to give me government scrip for my greenbacks, 
 which was done to the amount of one hundred thousand 
 dollars, with the understanding that the scrip was to 
 be used for personal and family demands, and not for 
 speculation. I was also requested to say nothing con- 
 cerning the transaction, which would lead to inquh-ies 
 and put the administration to the trouble of making 
 explanations. I had no desii-e to do this. All the gov- 
 ernment desired was to keep matters free from embar- 
 rassment or entanglement. 
 
 I was then told that a case somewhat similar to my 
 own had just come to light in Boston. A Mr. West 
 had been found after sleeping over a hundred years un- 
 der mesmeric influence. The fact had become a great 
 sensation. I was advised to visit this centenarian, who 
 was near my own age, and compare notes with him. 
 The interview would doubtless be of much interest to 
 both of us, and possibly to the world at large. 
 
14G LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 This piece of iuformation was of deep significance to 
 iiH', as it removed the eoucentvation of attention which 
 mnst otherwise rest ni)on ns, and divitled it. 1 knew it 
 wonld be gratifying to Effie also. 
 
 My mission so snccessfnlly accomplished, I retnrned 
 home withont delay, reaching there a few honrs after 
 Effie had awakened. She was gi'eatly rejoiced at my 
 snccess. The sitnation was relieved of all difficulty. 
 Life now presented cheerful aspects. I mentioned the 
 case of Mr. West, and Effie agreed with me that a tiip 
 to Boston was the very thing to dOc 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Having resolved upon the visit to Boston, and there 
 being- nothing- to detain ns in onr present locality, we 
 at once commenced preparations for the journey. We 
 had no property to look after, no business interests to 
 provide for, no friends to leave — nothing but a few 
 personal matters to engage our attention. It required 
 but a few hours to make ready. But we resolved be- 
 fore setting out to make some excursions into the ad- 
 jacent country, and visit scenes and places of other 
 years, if we could find and recognize them. Little, in- 
 deed, was there that had the appearance of former days. 
 Change was written even on the face of the landscape. 
 There was small comfort to be derived from what we 
 saw. No dear associations remained to draw parting 
 regrets from om- hearts. 
 
 The evening before the day fixed for setting out on 
 the eastern trip was spent in quiet conversation. So 
 full of excitement and strange adventures had been the 
 few days since our awakening, that real enjoyment in 
 each other's society had, in a measure, been excluded. 
 We had scarcely been our real selves. Now, with noth- 
 ing to intrude or disturb, we could enter into each 
 other's feelings in soul communion. 
 
 It proved one of the most happy evenings of our life. 
 The rest of the world was changed almost beyond rec- 
 ognition. Customs, manners, phases of life, personal 
 responsibility, the relative positions of men to society 
 
 147 
 
148 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 and public affairs, of women to domestic economy and 
 home associations — all liad undergone a complete rev- 
 olution ; whether for weal or woe, time must deter- 
 mine. In the midst of this sea of confusion to iis, it 
 was a soiu'ce of exc[uisite comfort to find in ourselves 
 something stable, unchanged, the same as when we knew 
 the world before. Out in the great world we were 
 exiles on our native soil. Here we were at home and 
 knew all that was about us. 
 
 One who has never passed through an experience 
 like ours can form no just conception of the sensations 
 produced, nor of the unspeakable pleasm-e in finding 
 one safe and secui'e anchorage in a haven of rest and 
 peace. The rest was so refreshing, the peace was so f uU 
 of comfort. That evening was an oasis in a desert, an 
 era in our lives. 
 
 We had discussed the merits of the air-ship and 
 chariot, and finally decided that the latter woidd be 
 preferable for our purpose. Of course we should voy- 
 age in tlie air. Every detail had been carefully looked 
 after, and we were ready. A night's refreshing sleep, 
 possibly the last we should enjoy for a season, and with 
 the early morning we were off. 
 
 Without accident or incident worthy of note, we 
 reached Boston. It was with some difficulty we found 
 a pul)lic house. The people did not appear to be well 
 posted in local matters, or to take any interest in om* 
 welfare. We finally succeeded in reaching a hotel. At 
 least that is what it would have been called in our day ; 
 but " Government Inn " was the name by which it was 
 known. It was quite an ancient title for a house of 
 entertainment, but we were too anxious to find a place 
 of rest to moralize on names or appearances. 
 
 There was no bustle, uo rushiug of porters, no an- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 149 
 
 swering the calls of guests as in our time, no excite- 
 ment or tumult. Every tiling- appeared to be neat, clean, 
 and in good order. We were shown to our rooms. 
 There was nothing attractive about them ; no display ; 
 no evidence of an effort to outrival some other house. 
 The f urnitm'e was plain and substantial ; good enough 
 as far as it went, but neither profuse nor ornamental. 
 It was quite unlike the fashionable hotels of a hundred 
 years ago. I was not yet prepared to pass judgment 
 on the change. It might be for the better ; it might 
 not. I would wait and see, not only in reference to 
 public houses, l)ut with regard to all that came under 
 my observation. Hasty conclusions were not always 
 wise, and I wished to be correct in the estimate I 
 formed of the existing civilization as compared with 
 the old. 
 
 As we were to become a part of the existing order of 
 things if we lived among men and did not choose to 
 become hermits, we nnist familiarize om'selves with the 
 customs and usages of society as we found them. We 
 discussed the matter and prepared om-selves as well as 
 we knew how to become denizens of om* own country. 
 What a thought ! Wliat an experience ! 
 
 The table of the " Inn " was, like its other appoint- 
 ments, weU and substantially supplied, but lacking in 
 much that formerly characterized public houses. There 
 was quiet everywhere. This was most agreeable to us. 
 The servants were attentive but not obtrusive. There 
 was no hurry or commotion ; no jostling of each other ; 
 no rattling or clashing of dishes. You selected from 
 the bill of fare what you wished. The prices were 
 named opposite each article. You knew what you were 
 getting and its cost. The charges were very reasonable. 
 
 Dui'ing the afternoon I sought an interview with the 
 
150 LOOIONG WITHIN. 
 
 gentleman I supposed to be the proprietor. He told 
 nie lie was only the overseer appointed by the govern- 
 ment. The house and all pei-taining- to it l)elonged to 
 the gcn-ernnient. lie had no interest in it. He was 
 employed to e(jndiiet it, and reeeived his salary or 
 wages, nothing more. In this he was on the same foot- 
 ing as every other citizen. His responsi])ility extended 
 no further than to i)revent loss or damage to projierty 
 as far as in his power, and to see that the house was 
 2)roperly kept. It was neither a laborious nor a worry- 
 ing ])osition. 
 
 "Do you have iiumy guests?" I inquired. 
 
 "No, verj^ few. There is no call for much tr;i\fl. 
 Every i)erson is furnished so much for living exitenses, 
 Avhich amount is fixed at such a sum that little is left 
 for travel or outside disbm'sements. If any one travels 
 nuich his rations are cut short, and most people prefer 
 plenty to eat rather than expenditm-es in travel. There 
 is no business, calling people from home. All the lousi- 
 ness of the country is done by the government, and 
 government inspectors or agents and employees in the 
 transportation of produce, etc., are the only class of 
 persons who have occasion to pass from one part of 
 the country to another." 
 
 These particulars were drawn out by a request on my 
 part that he would enter into details as if giving in- 
 formation to a stranger who was entirely ignorant of 
 the customs and usages of the people. I did know a 
 little, but scarcely more than enough to confuse my 
 ideas of things, and I desii'cd to learn all that was pos- 
 sible without exposing myself. 
 
 *' Why does the government make no provision for 
 traveling on the part of the people ? " I asked. 
 
 " It cannot. If people should be furnished facilities 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 151 
 
 for transportation at public expense, the whole popula- 
 tion would be on the go. Business would be suspended, 
 and famine and starvation would ensue. People would 
 rather travel than work, and if it cost the same, or the 
 government furnished the means and paid the expenses, 
 no wcn'k would be done." 
 
 " I see. But will not this lack of intercourse between 
 the diffei'cnt parts of the inhabitants tend to alienation 
 and separation ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it will. It is not my business to look after 
 those things, and I do not trouble myself with matters 
 which do not belong to me." 
 
 ^' Will you be kind enough to refer me to some one 
 who is well informed on all these matters, and can aid 
 me in my research after knowledge ? " 
 
 "■ Yes, sir, with pleasure. There is Dr. Leete, one of 
 the best informed among our citizens, though he is 
 something of an enthusiast. He can give you a large 
 amount of desirable information on general and special 
 sul)jects. He has now under his care a young man who 
 is said to have been in a trance or sleep of some kind 
 over a hundred years. He will doubtless be glad to 
 assist you as well. But the man who is most thoroughly 
 posted, and the one who has the widest range of knowl- 
 edge, is Mr. Hume, our chief of pohce. What he can- 
 not tell you is scarcely worth the knowing, so far as 
 Boston is concerned — and the whole country, for that 
 matter." 
 
 " Thank you. How can I find these gentlemen ? 
 
 " The doctor at his home ; Mr. Hume at police head- 
 quarters." 
 
 The gentleman kindly tendered his services to give 
 me an introduction the next day. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The chief of police proved to be a remarkable man, 
 a little over fifty years of age, fiill of vigor, and look- 
 ing much younger. He was genial and social. Com- 
 ing to him for information, he proffered all the aid he 
 could give me. It did not take long to learn that he 
 was a man of no pretensions to superiority, but of a 
 wide range of practical information, and a full compre- 
 hension of the social and political affau-s of the coun- 
 try. He was unobtrusive, modest, almost diffident, but 
 a man of keen insight, close observation, and untiring 
 research. I remaiked on my first interview that he 
 probay)ly found httle time or opportunity to heed calls 
 that distracted his attention from official duties. He 
 replied : 
 
 "My official labors are by no means onerous. The 
 whole plan of oiu- government is based on the suppo- 
 sition that people who are properly fed, clothed, and 
 housed A\dll naturally be virtuous ; that pretty much aU 
 the crmies and evils of former times resulted fi'om hun- 
 ger, cold, or privation ; that poverty was the fruitful 
 soiu-ce of disorder and lawlessness, and the abohtion of 
 poverty also abolished misdoing. That is the theory 
 on which our police system is established. Hence I 
 have no hea\^' task put upon me as its chief officer." 
 
 " Does the theory hold good in practice ? " I inciuired. 
 
 " It does not. But as this theory prevails througliout 
 aU departments of the government, high and low, I have 
 
 152 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 153 
 
 a very inadequate force at my disposal, and so much 
 leisure on my hands. As you investigate the facts you 
 will learn more about these matters." 
 
 " Does the pay cori-espond with the work performed ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " It is presumed to ; but practice and theory are fre- 
 quently at variance. People under our system of gov- 
 ernment are paid because they exist, and not pi'imarily 
 because they la1)or, though between certain ages they 
 are required to work. The fundamental basis of our 
 economy is that every human being is entitled to a liv- 
 ing, and must have it, whether it is earned or not." 
 
 '' I remember such a sentiment existed in the nine- 
 teenth centmy. It found expression in the words, 
 ' The world owes me a living,' which was often supple- 
 mented by the declaration, ' and I am going to have it.' 
 But the general verdict of men then was that the world 
 owed no man a living unless he earned it, if he was not 
 physically or mentally disquahfied to do so. It seems 
 you have adopted the one and discarded the other." 
 
 '' Not entirely discarded. It is held that every one 
 should and must labor. It is presumed that the labor 
 will compensate for the living. So it might, if all people 
 were perfect. As they are not, the theoiy, of course, 
 is as imperfect as the people who are depended upon to 
 make it good." 
 
 " I perceive the point." 
 
 '' You speak of remembering the condition of things 
 in the nineteenth century. Of course you mean you 
 have read of that century, not that you experienced the 
 things you allude to. You cannot much exceed thirty 
 years of age.'' 
 
 "I have unwittingly l^etrayed myself prematurely. 
 Perhaps it is just as well." 
 
154 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 I then related my experience, so marvelously strange 
 to men, mid now become so simjjle to me. Mr. Hume 
 looked incredulous, but being a gentleman did not call 
 in question my statement. I requested him to test me 
 by mentioning any occurrence or event from 1875 to 
 1892. He did so. The result removed every possible 
 doubt from his mind. He then mentioned the case 
 of Mr. West, who had been the wonder of Boston the 
 past two months. I said I had heard of him at Wash- 
 ington, and that one object of visiting Boston was to 
 see him. In company we went to see this gentleman 
 at Dr. Leete's, where we received a royal welcome. 
 
 Mr. West and I found so much in common to con- 
 verse about, as though events of over a hundred years 
 old were just transpii-ing, that the others listened with 
 silent and absorbed attention. It was far more thidU- 
 ing and instructive than any romance. It was like 
 holding up a mirror before those present into wliich 
 they could look and behold the events of the nineteenth 
 century passing like a panorama before them. We 
 spoke of the Italian and Chdian embroglios, and of the 
 Bering Sea negotiations with Great Britain, as events 
 not 3'et settled. The things fresh in om* memory were 
 unknown or dindy called to mind by our hearers, who 
 knew of them only by tradition or the history that im- 
 perfectly recorded them. It was more than an hour 
 before we found a stopping-place, and then our audi- 
 tors requested us to continue ; but we declined on the 
 ground that we should have other opportunities for this 
 recreation. I made knowm my desire for information 
 concerning the present. Mr. Hume then referred me to 
 Dr. Leete. 
 
 I found him enthusiastic in praise of the existing 
 order of affau-s. He confirmed what Mr. Hume had al- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 155 
 
 ready said, that society and government were founded 
 on the fundamental principle or idea, that people were 
 to be supported because tlioy existed, and that if fur- 
 nished with the necessaries and ordinary comforts of 
 life, they would be vii'tuous and happy. The doctor's 
 notion was centered in the belief that the craze for 
 wealth in former times had led to the robbery of the 
 poorer classes of their natiu-al rights, and that hunger 
 and nakedness and exposure di-ove them to crime. He 
 claimed that most of the crimes and misdemeanors of 
 the nineteenth and previous centuries were direct results 
 of poverty, or necessarily grew out of the condition of 
 things which made poverty a fact, 
 
 I suggested that many of the worst criminals were 
 above want and of more than ordinary intelligence. 
 He admitted the fact, but contended that these persons 
 were either influenced by their environments or in haste 
 to get rich. The doctor expatiated for several hoiu-s 
 on the theme in which he delighted. I was highly 
 entertained, but was not converted to his views ; I de- 
 sired to see and know more before reaching settled con- 
 clusions. As his views are fully set forth in his con- 
 versations with Mr. West, they need not be repeated 
 here. From his side I found him a ready and willing 
 helper in my investigations at all times. 
 
 I was presented to Mrs. and Miss Leete, and at my 
 earnest solicitation Mr. West and Miss Leete accom- 
 panied me to the Inn to call on Effie. This was the 
 beginning of a delightful acquaintance and friendship. 
 From this time onward we were not entu-e strangers in 
 the city. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Ha"VT[NG made sncli an anspieiolis bc^nnine:, I be- 
 gan to look about nie seriously for the best and 
 most reliable soui'ces of knowledge. I was not long 
 in seeing that Mr. Hume was the most careful and 
 impartial observer of customs and events of any with 
 whom I came in contact. He was also a philosopher. 
 He could give reasons for his opinions. He did not 
 deal in asserti< )ns. He did not make use of unsupported 
 affirmations. He never suffered himself to be led to 
 conclusions by the su})ei'ficial aj^iJcarance of things. 
 He tried to find a solid l)asis for convictions and beUefs. 
 He was not enthusiastic. In converse with him I re- 
 ferred to Dr. Leete's fascination with the present order 
 of things, national and social. He said : 
 
 " The doctor is perfectly captivated with matters as 
 they are. He really tliinks the woi-ld is almost a para- 
 dise. There are some things he does not know, and 
 other tilings he AA^ill not know. In your day, as in all 
 past ages, there were optimists and pessimists. The 
 doctor is an enthusiastic optimist : he sees only the 
 good and ignores the evil. His gaze is so al>sorl)ed 
 in the silver lining to the cloud that he does not see 
 the cloud at all. He believes everything is lovely and 
 pure, partly because he is so himself. In this sense his 
 \'iews are creditable to his heart and life, if not to calm 
 judgment. He sees only tliat wliicli is to be approved, 
 and all liis observations arc rose-colored. He tliiiiks 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 157 
 
 we are practically living in a restored Eden. If he oc- 
 cupied my position for a time, he wonld be compelled 
 to change his notions quite radically. He does not 
 believe mankind has a disposition to sin outside the 
 demands of the stomach and the comforts of life. If 
 these are supplied, men and women wOl be happy and 
 contented, is his theory. He has always been favoa-ed 
 in life. He is a fine physician, and gi-eatly beloved. 
 Though past the age of service, he still h;is patients by 
 the score, if not by hundreds. This very popularity 
 makes him enemies. Other doctors are jealous. Men in 
 other callings dislike him because he is a general favor- 
 ite. There is an undercurrent of feeling bordering on 
 hatred toward him. He is in some danger of personal 
 violence. I have tried to put him on his guard ; but he 
 believes nothing of the iU-will toward him, and treats 
 all suggestions of personal peril with indiiference, if not 
 with contempt. Never having done or wished harm to 
 any one, he cannot conceive how any one should desire 
 harm to him. 
 
 "While the doctor is in danger, yet Ins age is a 
 protection. Few persons are base enough to lay vio- 
 lent hands on a person of his years. His daughter is 
 in most danger. She is noble, pure, and good, and 
 is very popular with the better class of people. This 
 is especially true of young men. This popularity has 
 excited the ire of not a few of her own sex, who regard 
 her as a thorn in the flesh because she is so generally 
 liked, particularly by the gentlemen. I have warned 
 her father. He treats the matter as unworthy of at- 
 tention. He loves his daughter intensely. He cannot 
 think any one is so depraved as to do harm to a being 
 so innocent and lovely as Edith, whose whole life has 
 been devoted to nuiking others happy. No care or pre- 
 
158 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 caution is taken by the parents or daughter to prevent 
 harm. I am not a little anxious concerning the outcome. 
 
 " Mr. West has been a center of attraction since his 
 advent became knoAVTi, partly because of the strange 
 adventure which brought him among us. His evident 
 partiality for Miss Leete and the report that thoy are 
 to be married have added fuel to the smoldering fire of 
 dislike. She is really hated by a number of young ladies 
 and by some of their mothers for no reason except the 
 fact that she is amiable, beloved, and popular. I shall 
 not be siu'prised to hear of some trick played upon her, 
 or some injury or violence done to her." 
 
 To my inquiry if he could not prevent such an 
 occurrence he replied that his force was inadequate, 
 and if otherwise he could not antici])ate a crime. It 
 must be perpetrated before it coidd be punished. 
 
 Leaving personal matters, I inquired how the war 
 ended. Mr. Hume stated the facts. 
 
 " I may say it was fought out to exhaustion ; both 
 sides were worn out. The difference between capital 
 and labor, rich and poor, comfort and i)aup('i-ism, was 
 practically wiped away. All were poor — almost poor 
 alike. The wealth of the country was obliterated. 
 The cities were in ruins ; the rural disti'iets were vast 
 areas of desolation. What the war had not destrt)yed 
 was used to obtain provisions and clothing, etc. All 
 the gi'cat and minor fortunes had faded away. These 
 were the objects of the special vengeance of the rabid 
 element in the ranks of labor. The tilling of the 
 soil was practically abandoned. Pro\T[sions became 
 so scarce that the armies could not obtain adequate 
 supphes. The troops became clamorous. Mutiny was 
 threatened. As a last resort the labor army was led to 
 attack Washington with the avowed purpose of plun- 
 
LOOIvING -SVITHIN. 159 
 
 deriiig the treasury and burning the records. This the 
 other side resolved shonkl not be done. It would be an 
 irreparable loss to have the archives of the nation tm-ned 
 to ashes and its caj^ital blotted out. 80 at the seat of 
 government — though there was no government except 
 in name — the last attack was made. The fighting was 
 long and desperate, and the mortality correspondingly 
 great. But the city was preserved. A truce was agreed 
 upon because it became an absolute necessity. This 
 was followed by the permanent cessation of hostilities. 
 There was no money in the treasury, and nothing for 
 the hungry soldiers to plunder which could avail to re- 
 relieve their straitened condition. Peace was followed 
 by the adoption of the present form of government. 
 There was little to gain or lose by either side. An 
 agreement was reached after months of deliberation l^y 
 mutual concessions." 
 
 " Why does Dr. Leete say the present order of things 
 was secured without war, or the shedding of a drop of 
 blood ? " 
 
 " That is one of his peculiarities. He follows Pro- 
 fessor Smiley, who has wiitten an elaborate work on 
 the subject, in which he takes the position that the war 
 with all its horrible attendant and direfid realities was 
 the outgrowth of the old civilization — a direct conse- 
 quence of its barbarous origin and unnatm-al heritage ; 
 that all which took place previous to peace must be 
 charged up- to the nineteenth and preceding centuries. 
 The new civilization dates only back to the new era, and 
 is responsible for nothing beyond that epoch, which, he 
 claims, is the great event of all time." 
 
 " That is rather strange logic. I can remember as 
 far back as 1875 ; and I know that during a period of 
 seventeen years from that date to 1892 there were a 
 
160 LOOKING ^^^THIN. 
 
 number of strikes and other troubles between laborers 
 and capitalists, wherein blood was shed. The Hay- 
 market tragedy in Chicago became historic in my time. 
 It is therefore clear that blood was shed abnost from 
 the inception of the controversy and antagonism be- 
 tween capital and labor." 
 
 "All of which is true. Within ninety days after 
 your fii-st retirement in 1892, the bloody riots at Home- 
 stead in Pennsylvania, at the mines in Idaho and 
 Tennessee, and the strike at Buffalo, N. Y., w^hen many 
 lives were sacrificed, many maimed, and large amounts 
 of property destroyed, tell the same crimson story. 
 Troops had to be called out at all these jilaces to sup- 
 press lawlessness and murder. These facts clearly point 
 to a trace of human blood from the commencement of 
 the strife to the close of the war. Our fathers ought to 
 have been warned in time of the impending disaster ; 
 but they were not, or if warned they heeded not. It 
 seems like trifling with the clearest lessons of history 
 to say that this astounding revolution was secm-ed 
 in perfect i)eace ; but we shall have to let om* friends 
 have their way and enjoy their sweet illusion. I guess 
 it does no hai-m. The professor and the doctor desu-e 
 to clothe the present social and poHtical fabric with 
 clean and unspotted garments of angeUc pm*ity ; hence 
 they saddle all the crimes and ills of the race to what 
 tiiey are pleased to term the dead past. Being dead 
 and buried, they claim it does it no harm to be nuide 
 responsible for the mistakes and woes of mankind in 
 those times." 
 
 " That is quite benevolent and consoling to the exist- 
 ing order of things, whether true or not. But I am 
 seeking knowledge. Was there no compensation for 
 the losses of the war ? " 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 161 
 
 " Possibly there were. Men will differ in opinion on 
 that point. Two things were accomplished which ren- ' 
 dered the present order of affairs possible: the very- 
 poor all perished ; the rich were reduced to poverty. 
 While I do not regard the present form of government 
 desirable or perinanent, yet the leveling process named 
 has made it possible for a better government in the 
 future. No estimate of the cost of the war has ever 
 been made ; it was so fearfully destructive of both life 
 and property no one seems to have a desire or disposi- 
 tion to ascertain the sum total. Those who fell in battle 
 were but a small portion of the whole number that died. 
 Famine and pestilence carried off their tens of thou- 
 sands, while the battle-fields slew their thousands. No 
 census was taken in 1930 or 1940. The census of 1950 
 showed fifteen millions less population than the census 
 of 1920. This indicates a loss of sixty-five miUions of 
 people. But as some removed to other lands to save life 
 and property, immigration almost ceased, and births 
 were not nearly so numerous as in times of peace and 
 quiet, the true loss of life would be less than these 
 figures, which was the number of inhabitants in the 
 nation in 1892, when you retired. But after making 
 all due allowances, the loss of life was away up in the 
 millions, so high as to make one shudder merely to 
 think of those terrible years when the grim Reaper 
 gathered his human harvest. The eontenii)lation of 
 that crimson chapter of our history is so ai)palliug, 
 with your permission we will turn from the black list 
 of death to something less repulsive." 
 
 " Gladly. Is there much foreign immigration to tliis 
 country now ? " 
 
 " Very little. There is no demand and no place for 
 foreigners." 
 
1G2 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 "Is not that fortuuiito for us?" 
 
 " Doubtless. It was larg'ely the foreiuu element that 
 led to diseoutent and hostilities. If only native-horu 
 citizeus had inhabited om- country, I am persuaded we 
 should have had peace to the end. The early republic 
 owed much to foreigners of the better class ; but when 
 the criminal and i)auper classes came over in such vast 
 numbers the evil days began." 
 
 " I have seen the outward appearance of things ; as 
 now existing .they look attractive. Are there any hidden 
 or invisible under-currents not so pleasing?" 
 
 '' I am sorr}^ to say that ])eneath this exterior of love- 
 liness there is hideous deformity — scenes too dark to 
 depict. In your day, under gilded trappings of wealth 
 there were horrible realities unseen by the mass of men. 
 The same is true to-day. There are ten thousand 
 drunkards in Boston. Distilleries and breweries are 
 not permitted to exist except as run by the govern- 
 ment ; but there are a number of private manufactories 
 of intoxicants underground, much like the moonshiners 
 in your day. These furnish liquors to those who crave 
 them." 
 
 "Why are they not suppressed?" 
 
 " Because nobody is empowered with authority to do 
 so. As I said, the theory of government is that there 
 will be no crime where there is no physi(^al want. As 
 want is kept from all — or supposed to be — l)y the direct 
 act of government, it is presumed there will be no de- 
 sire to violate the laws, or to do any Avrong to society 
 or to ea(;li othei*. The first generation after the war 
 was so busy repairing the waste and providing for the 
 wants of all, that there was really almost no need of 
 law. The ne(jessity laid upon that generation kept the 
 people so active they found little time to study or exe- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 163 
 
 cute wickedness. They liad liad so mncli turmoil and 
 war, they wanted rest and peace. It was not then, as 
 now, so many hours a day, and then rest. All the day 
 long was a scene of toil. It was twenty years before 
 the existing- system assumed its present features and 
 became the established order. This generation has 
 much idle time on its hands, and it is as tnie now as 
 when Watts sang it of old : 
 
 " ' Satan finds some mischief still 
 For idle hands to do.' 
 
 " I regret to say that some of the men who drink 
 take the portion of wives aud children, f m-iiished by the 
 government for food and clothing, and spend it for the 
 coveted beverage. Hundreds of cliildren go hungiy 
 to bed almost every night from this cause. I have re- 
 ported the facts to the authorities at Washington, but 
 no attention seems to be paid to the subject." 
 
 " It appears to me there must be a serious defect in 
 your system somewhere." 
 
 " True. It has always been so in all systems. Laws 
 are made for the prevention and punishment of crimes 
 and misdemeanors. 'Thou shalt not' is the language 
 of all law ; but every age has witnessed the violation 
 of laws by the vicious. Mm-der, theft, robbery, and 
 other outbreaking or violent crimes are provided for in 
 theory and in law, though hardly expected in fact. But 
 these secret sins are left to ' grow by what they feed 
 upon.' They are practically unrestrained. Gambling 
 is indulged in. There are secret places where this vice 
 is carried on to any extent the players desire. Coun- 
 terfeiting is also one of the secret sins of the city. It is 
 easier to counterfeit our government scrip than it was 
 the greenbacks of yoiu" age. No one can tell how much 
 
164 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 counterfeit scrip exists. You can see at a glance how 
 easy it would be for a skillful workman to make a fac- 
 simile of a piece of scrip." 
 
 " Does not the government keep a record and register 
 all the scrip it issues ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; l)ut what of that ? Suppose I have a 
 piece of scrip of a certain number and date. Before it 
 is all used up I make a counterfeit of the same date, 
 number, and value, and take it to some depository of 
 supplies where I have not been in the habit of purchas- 
 ing, or to a different department of the same depository, 
 where the clerlvs are not posted, and present the spu- 
 rious scrip. It could not l)e detected. I could purchase 
 what I desired with it without being suspected. My 
 wife could use the genuine at the same time until it 
 should be exhausted, and do it innocently. This is done 
 all the time." 
 
 " That is as bad as it was in my day, if not worse." 
 
 ''Why should it not l)e? Human nature is essen- 
 tially the same in all ages. Cii-cumstances modify the 
 actions of men, Ijut do not make them other than men. 
 This leads me to another point. Licentiousness runs 
 riot in the secret recesses of Boston. In your time some 
 women were driven into lives of crime and wretched- 
 ness by want, hunger, cold, lack of shelter. All good 
 people deplored their misfortune. But in every age 
 there have been the Mrs. Potipliars, the Helens, the 
 Ck'opatras, and the thousands of others wlio chose to 
 do e\dl without compulsion. Tliey exist in this city 
 now. There was a class in your day called ' free lovers.' 
 That class of people is not dead nor asleep. There are 
 several secret cliques or societies of them in Boston. 
 One of them is now in session. Without the knowl- 
 edge of these people, or of the gamblers and distillers. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 165 
 
 I have secured telephonic communication with their 
 various assemblies. If you will sit at this instrument 
 you can hear them in secret discussion, not imparting 
 but comparing their peculiar \dews." 
 
 I took the place designated, and while listening heard 
 sentiments expressed and avowals made which respect 
 for the feelings of the reader forbid to be repeated here. 
 Nothing exceeding these utterances, in lack of virtue or 
 in open profession of free-love principles and practices, 
 ever disgraced the nineteenth century. I remarked to 
 Mr. Hume : 
 
 "These people must belong to the abandoned classes, 
 who care nothing for the good opinion of respectable 
 society." 
 
 " On the contrary," he said, " they are mostly persons 
 who pass in the best circles of society, and pose as vir- 
 tuous members of the same. They suppose that they 
 are unheard except by themselves, and so appear in their 
 true character in these secret meetings. It is the natural 
 outgrowth of passion on the part of men and women 
 who have plenty of idle time on their hands and are not 
 disposed to use it for purposes of self -improvement." 
 
 " I confess this is a startling revelation to me. It is 
 surprising, shocking, basely infamous ! " 
 
 " There is no possible excuse for such lapses from 
 virtue ; and I am not surprised that you are astonished 
 by this revelation." 
 
 After some fiu-ther conversation, Mr. Hume proposed 
 to introduce me to a friend of his, a farmer of rare in- 
 telligence, who, he assured me, would be glad to en- 
 lighten me on some phases of our ci\Tlization and pol- 
 ity as these affect agricultm'e. I was delighted at the 
 prospect of this new opening of a channel of informa- 
 tion on so important a topic. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 On the day agi'eed upon, I took Mr. Hume in my 
 chariot for the proposed visit iu the country. His 
 attention was particularly attracted to the chariot. 
 He remarked that he had never seen one so complete 
 and perfect. I replied that under governmental super- 
 vision great improvements ought to have been made. 
 
 " There is where you are in en-or," he said. " Under 
 our system of operations there is no adequate induce- 
 ment for persons to improve or invent machinery. 
 The in\'entor has no personal interest or right in the 
 product of his inventive skill more tlian his neighbor. 
 All he gets is a diploma or medal, and these are empty 
 considerations. Government owns everything, includ- 
 ing products of the mental and physical powers of her 
 citizens — in fact, owns the man himself. He is a mere 
 machine, or a part of it ; the crank or Ix'lt which run 
 the whole affair is the government. Individual free- 
 dom, in the broad sense, that a man is master of him- 
 self, his time, talents, and lal)or, is not known. If it 
 ever existed, it is a thing of the past ; it died with the 
 siuTcnder of the num to the government. Hence there 
 is almost no improvement in any direction. The tele- 
 graph, the tel('i»hone, aerial navigation, electrical ma- 
 chinery, and all else, remain practically as they were 
 when the governnieut swallowed everything. Rail- 
 roads have deteriorated. There being no general 
 
 166 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 167 
 
 travel, and no call for it, the roads are used almost 
 exclusively for freights. Until children and youth are 
 twenty-one years of age, they are requu*ed to go to 
 school. From twenty-one to forty-five the people be- 
 long to the government for work, and are required to 
 put in eight hoiu's of labor each day. They have no 
 choice but to give these eight hom-s of time to the 
 pubUc in labor during each twenty-four hours. They 
 cannot work and travel at the same time. 
 
 '' They own nothing at the end of forty-five years. 
 Government owns the houses they live in, all the 
 fm-niture and appurtenances thereto belonging, except 
 a few decorations and a few books, when residents 
 choose to furnish these at their o\^^l expense. PubUc 
 hbraries are accessible to all the people, and so books 
 in private libraries are few. The people liave no ex- 
 cess of funds with which to pm'chase anything. A 
 Bible and a few standard books are provided for each 
 house, and remain in it. After the age of forty-five 
 the people are simply pensioners on the government. 
 As a matter of equity and right, the pension is fixed 
 at such an amount as will only properly keej) the per- 
 son comfortable — no overplus to expend in travel or 
 gratification. To overstep this rigid rule would be 
 to break down the whole structure of governmental 
 rule. Even if a bounty was offered for extra ser\nce, it 
 would lead to endless strife and jealousy, and ultimate 
 revolution. One ii'on rule must be observed impar- 
 tially : all must he treated alike — the same requirement 
 of time and service, the same pay for these. These 
 must be gauged to a fixed standard of economy, not of 
 extravagance or waste ; to pro\ade f(jr the needs and 
 not the pleasures of life. This is the reason there is 
 so little communication between the remote parts of 
 
1G8 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 the country. We are becoming estranged from each 
 other. The people of Boston know as little from per- 
 sonal intercourse about the people of the great central 
 area of the continent as they do of the inhabitants 
 of South America or Afi'ica. Om- citizens scarcely ever 
 see a stranger or a citizen of any otlier State, except he 
 be a government employe. "VVHiat the outcome will be 
 no one can foresee. There still remains the telegraph, 
 which gives ns the general news all ovei- the country ; 
 but it is getting to be much Like intelligence from a 
 far-away and alien land, "^^liat common interests 
 have our people here with those of Texas, Kansas, or 
 California? None whatever, except that wliich comes 
 through the government exchange. We have no busi- 
 ness connections with those distant people, and, in point 
 of fact, none with our next-door neighbors. New York 
 and Pennsylvania have no interest in common with us. 
 There are no intermarriages, no social communications, 
 no ties of any sort to bind us together as one homoge- 
 neous brotherhood. 
 
 " There is no hurry anywhere. A man gets the same 
 pay for his work if he is deliberate as if he is in haste. 
 Our railroad passenger trains, when they i-uii at all, 
 never exceed twenty-five miles an hour ; freights are 
 lazily carried along at ten to fifteen miles per hour. 
 Railroad men, like others, put in eight hours a day ; 
 at the end of each eight hours' journey there is a 
 station and a relay of hands. No speed is necessary. 
 It requii'cs a large number of hands to keep the rail- 
 roads and the service of trains properly in order. 
 Everything works by rule, but it is the iron rule of 
 the machine, which excludes all freedom, enterprise, 
 or aspiration. Everything is a dead-level, so to speak 
 — so much work for a living, which is given in exact 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 169 
 
 measure to each one. Such a system exchides emula- 
 tion, shuts out ambition, and abolishes hope of prefer- 
 ment or distinction." 
 
 " Dr. Leete does not look at the condition of things 
 in that light. He claims the incentives to ambition 
 and excellence are as great now as formerly." 
 
 "I know he does. But the facts are against his 
 fancy-colored theory, which is the outgrowth of his 
 own happy and exceptional experience. He does get 
 some private perquisites for his professional services ; 
 but even in his case there is nothing left for him to 
 expend in extensive travel or other costly luxuries. 
 What people spend for extras is taken from wages or 
 pensions, and cuts off that much of theu* only revenue, 
 regarded at best as only fairly sufficient for the nec- 
 essaries of comfortable living. You can readily see 
 where the clear-cut facts point. It is just as impossi- 
 ble for one person to travel much, or exj^end much in 
 any direction, as it is for one to be rich and another 
 poor. Equahty is the one idea upon which the en- 
 tire fabric of government and society is constructed. 
 'Liberty, equality, fraternity' is the motto, and the 
 effort is to make it a reality. That it fails in eveiy 
 way and at every point, except where the government 
 dispenses to the people, is evident. But most persons 
 do not look beneath the sui'face to see what the real 
 facts are. They feel that something is wrong, yet do 
 not perceive the source of the \VTong. Some hold theii* 
 peace for policy's sake. 
 
 " In youi" day visitors went at such hours as pleased 
 the parties themselves. It is not so now. The eight 
 hours belong to the government ; in them no visiting 
 is permitted. AU social intercourse must be had dur- 
 ing the hoiu's devoted to recreation and sleep. If we 
 
170 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 should reach tlic home of my friend before five o'clock, 
 he woidd not dare to stop work and receive us untd 
 that liour which rek'ases him from obligation for the 
 day. This clock-work reaches to all departments of 
 human life and action. Honest men are faithful ; dis- 
 honest ones are not. The treadmill drudgeiy of the 
 eight hours' compulsory labor whets the appetite of 
 the e\al-disposed to run into excesses when released 
 from the grasp of the cast-iron rule." 
 
 We had now reached our destination, and received 
 a heai'ty welcome at the farmer's home. The family 
 consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Acre, and their son and 
 daughter. Wlien Mr. Acre saw my chariot he said : 
 
 '' That is a fine rig. The government turns out no 
 such work as that. I have seen nothing so complete, 
 costly, and elegant. How came you to possess such a 
 rare gem of beauty and convenience ? " 
 
 '' There is a long story connected with it, which I 
 beg to delay repeating until a futm-e time," I said. 
 
 Mr. Hume then stated the pui'pose of our visit, and 
 om* host replied that he would gladly render me any 
 assistance in his power, which would be small com- 
 pared with what Dr. Leete and ,Mr. Himie could 
 fm-nish. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Me. Acre continued the interview. 
 
 '' Dr. Leete and Mr. Hume have enlightened you on 
 the fundamentals of our system, and I need not repeat. 
 The system is one of ownership and servitude. No man 
 can dispose of himself as he would ; he simply obeys 
 orders. It is called a paternal government, but the 
 name does not mitigate its rigor. It has some advan- 
 tages. No one is to be in want. That many are in want 
 is not the fault of the government, but of individuals. 
 Employment and pay are both sure. No actual want 
 except as the result of criminal conduct; no tramps 
 nor beggars; no paupers of the old style; houses for 
 aU, comfortable living for aU provided — these are 
 blessings which arrest the attention at once. They 
 are attractive. They give our civilization an exterior 
 polish that is pleasing to behold. Alas that this 
 beauty is only skin-deep ! If only aU people were 
 good and honest, true and virtuous, the evils of the 
 system might not appear." 
 
 " If I understand your polity, it aims to deal with 
 all persons exactly alike. How can that be unjust 
 which is equal ? " 
 
 " It is only equal in name, not in fact. There are 
 multiplied methods by which men evade the just re- 
 quirements of the government, and defraud it and the 
 honest portion of the community as completely as if 
 they stole from or robbed them. The worst feature of 
 
 171 
 
172 LOOIONG WITHIN. 
 
 our system is that it puts a liardship upon its only 
 true supporters, wliile it permits the treacherous and 
 tricky to defraud ahuost at pleasure." 
 
 " I do not see how that can be." 
 
 "I presume not. Even close observers like Mr. 
 Hume would hardly discover this defect in his calling. 
 Dr. Leete would never see it, and would not beUeve it 
 if told him. He is infatuated with the exterior, and 
 never delves beneath the surface. The intent is right. 
 In theory all peoi)le are treated alike ; in practice they 
 are not. Let me illustrate. I am given forty acres of 
 land to cultivate, and am required to work eight hoiu's 
 a day all the j'ear round. Every horn- is devoted to the 
 cultivation of crops, care of the harvests, removing the 
 products, or preparing the soO for the next season's 
 crops. I try to be faithful. No other forty acres of 
 land in this region makes better returns than mine. 
 Here is my neighbor Biiggs over the way, who has 
 the same amount of land, ecpially as good in all re- 
 spects as mine ; he has the same implements and help 
 fiu'nished him for use in cultivating the farm ; yet he 
 produces less than half as much as 1 do each j'ear. 
 Wliy ? He is lazy and indolent. \Mien he does work 
 it is not with industrious zeal, but in a lounging, slip- 
 shod manuei-. Much of the time he pretends to be 
 sick. I do not wish to judge harshly or wi'ongfidly ; 
 but the facts must tell. He goes to bed — claims to 
 be in much bodily suffering. Dr. Leete, good-natured 
 and unsuspecting soul, conies out to see him, examines 
 the case — never suspects deceit or duplicity — finds the 
 man sick ; gives him a certificate of illness, which is 
 good for perhaps a week, with medicines or prescrip- 
 tion. The doctor goes home. In one hour Briggs is 
 out knocking around, cursing what he does not like, 
 
LOOiaNG WITHIN. 173 
 
 and idling away liis time, doing nothing to benefit 
 himself or the rest of the world. He has ten children 
 and abont one nnrse all the time, making thirteen in 
 the family. We have two children, or four in the fam- 
 ily. He draws supplies for thirteen, I for four. My 
 farm yields one hundred per cent. ; his, less than fifty 
 per cent. He gets three and one-fourth times more 
 for his time than I do, while I pay back over twice as 
 much as he does — a difference of one hundred per cent, 
 in profit, and of three hundred and twenty-five per 
 cent, in expenses, or a total of four hundred and 
 twenty-five per cent. Is there justice or right in tliat 
 difference ? " 
 
 '* I confess I do not see any. I had not thought of 
 the inequalities in that light. Cannot the government 
 provide for such cases ? " 
 
 "How provide? If a man is detailed to watch every 
 farmer it wiU requii'e as many detectives as laborers, 
 and these are to be fed, clothed, and provided for as 
 others, so that nothing can be gained." 
 
 " Is not this an extreme case ? " 
 
 "No; I wish it was. I know of twenty other simi- 
 lar cases which have come under my own observa- 
 tion. It is safe to say that not more than one half 
 the farmers do faithful work. I am now placing 
 the number at the extreme limit of best advantage. 
 The other half are more or less derelict in duty, most 
 of them badly deficient. It is not an inviting picture ; 
 but it is true to life. Read the returns for farms in 
 Massachusetts, and you will see that I have been lib- 
 eral and over-charitable in my estimates. 
 
 "But bad as this feature of the working of our 
 system is, there is another still worse. To make this 
 plain and intelligible, I nmst state a few primary facts. 
 
174 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 There are but three origiiuil sources of production, 
 uaniely, the soil, the mine, and tlie water. The hus- 
 bandman, the miner, and the fisherman produce or de- 
 velop all the resources of the world in their oriu:iual 
 forms or conditions. Then come the forge, the loom, 
 and other appliances, which, for brevity, may Ije termed 
 representatives of all transforming processes. Here, 
 then, are four classes of people who do all the valuable 
 or productive labor of the world. All other labor, if 
 it may be dignified liy that tenn, is for personal com- 
 fort or self -gratification, and adds nothing to the pos- 
 sessions of mankind. Now look at our cities, filled 
 with vast numbers of peoj)le, nearly all of whom are 
 mere consmners. They produce absolutely nothing, 
 and live off of other people's toil. And they live 
 finely. Look at the magnificent public buildings in 
 Boston ; and all the other cities are like it. WHio paid 
 for these costly structures ? They did ncjt come by 
 chance. They represent an immense outlay of human 
 energy ; but not one in fom* of those who enjoy them 
 ever did an hour's labor toward then* erection. These, 
 more than thi-ee fourths of the denizens of our cities, 
 are the recipients of blessings secured by others. 
 Every brick and stone, every piece of timber, eveiy 
 ounce of mortar, represents the toil of the working 
 classes named. They are the price of blood, for it 
 takes life to accomphsh these results, and the blood is 
 the life. These build, but others inhabit. The toilers 
 produce the fruits of the ground, the riches of the 
 mine, the stores of the deep, and transform the same, 
 while the others ' eat, drink, and are merry.' 
 
 " What do four fifths of the people in the cities do ? 
 They cook, wash dishes and clothes for themselves and 
 one another, and nothing else. They toil not, neither 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 175 
 
 do they spin, in the sense of production. They do not 
 produce or develop an onnce of the food they eat, or 
 a thread of the clothing they wear. They are simply 
 paupers, fed and clothed by the government from the 
 stores which others bring into existence." 
 
 " That is an entirely new aspect of the case," I said, 
 struck with the force and originality of the statement. 
 
 " It is the only truthful view. Tell me, if you can, 
 what the people of the cities do to provide their own 
 support ? " 
 
 <'Dr. Leete says they are servants and served by 
 tm-ns, and all work." 
 
 " Work at what ? Simply to minister to one another's 
 wants or comfort out of the abundance we who really 
 do labor furnish ready to their hand. They only live 
 to consume ; and their enjoyment is Hke dancing upon 
 the tender and bare nerves of the toilers, who face the 
 storms of all seasons, the heat of summer and the cold 
 of winter, the dangers of the mine and the main, that 
 they may have the wherewithal to feed and clothe 
 themselves, live in comfortable houses, and sing in 
 merriment over tlieii* easy lives, free from care or 
 anxious thought. I wish to emphasize what I have 
 ali-eady said, that these people are only pensioned pau- 
 pers of the government, who live upon the fat of the 
 land, and never do an hour's labor towai-d the produc- 
 tion of theii' own living. 
 
 " I know that Dr. Leete and others who have lived 
 in cities all their lives think that serving each other 
 is labor. But in the true sense it is not. The doctor 
 talks about equalizing- labor among all classes. Only 
 a denizen of the city, who knows nothing about the 
 real facts of the case, whose experience and observa- 
 tion have been confined to cities aU theii" Kves, where 
 
17G LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 serving and sei'ved are the eliief ends of life, eotdd 
 ever have conceived an idea so wide of the tnith as it 
 is, or of actual realization. As well assert that it rains 
 alike on all days in the year, or that it is cold and 
 warm alike every hour of the three hundred and sixty- 
 five days. We farmers have to go out in the sun and 
 rain of summer to till the soil ; in the cold and snow 
 of winter to feed the stock, and see that nothing goes 
 to waste. If the grain or hay is down and a rain is 
 coming on, we must strain every nerve to secure the 
 results of our toil. Some indolent farmers, hke Briggs, 
 do not care, and permit the crops to be damaged or 
 destroyed by the storms. But the conscientious farmer 
 makes all possible effoi-t to preserve that which is Ukely 
 to perish. How can a man in the cit}', under cover and 
 well provided for, do any amount or kind of work to 
 offset this experience of the farmer? The rain and 
 snow, sleet and hail, overtake the farmer in his toil. 
 He has no great awning, like a continuous umbrella, to 
 shield him from the inclement weather. He endm'cs 
 the pelting of the elements in all seasons, and under all 
 phases of their visitations. But the paupers of the city 
 can walk dry-shod and in perfect safety under then- great 
 canopies, every foot of which is constructed out of the 
 proceeds of the sweat and toil of those who really do labor 
 and suffer for the preservation and comfort of the race. 
 " No man raised on a farm, or deh-ing in a mine, or 
 periling life on the sea, would be guilty of saying that 
 the labor of the country is equally distributed. It is 
 only one who belongs to the pauper class, or who has 
 spent all his life among that class, who can sit down at 
 his ease, smoke his cigars, and expati;ite on the equita- 
 ble distribution of labor among all classes and to each 
 individual. If any kmd of work requii-ed but ten 
 
LOOIONG WITHIN. 177 
 
 minutes to offset the eight hours of daily labor, the 
 doctor says it would be so adjusted. When he can 
 control the winds and the clouds, calm the tumult of 
 the seas, or remove all danger from the mines, he may 
 talk in that strain ; but not until then. Suppose that 
 during the ten minutes of toil the mine should explode, 
 the ship go down, or the cyclone sweep the farmer away, 
 how w^ould the doctor compensate for the loss of life, 
 or make eight hours of easy labor its equivalent ? No, 
 sir, the paupers should be put to some occupation of 
 real industry where they woiUd learn at least the rudi- 
 ments of true labor." 
 
 " Then you favor abolishing the cities ? " 
 " Most certainly I do, as at present constituted. What 
 are they good for f Wliat purpose do they serve in our 
 economy I They are excrescences on the body politic, 
 and hot-beds of vice socially. It is in the cities that 
 nine tenths of all crimes are committed. In your time 
 they served a purpose : they furnished markets ; they 
 were places of exchange ; they were business centers, 
 and were useful in many ways. But they were cancers 
 even then that ate out the vii'tne of the people. Now 
 they are of no use whatever. They are not marts for 
 the sale of produce ; there is no produce for sale. They 
 furnish no means of exchange, for nothing is exchanged. 
 Government does all this, dealing directly with all the 
 people. This can be done better without the cities than 
 with them. Each manufacturing establishment can be 
 selected as the site for a depository where the raw 
 materials can be delivered and goods served to the 
 people. Compel the paupers to become producers. If 
 the number is so gi-eat that less time need be spent in 
 labor from each one to furnish needed supplies, then 
 let fewer hom-s be devoted to toil. 
 
178 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " But the whole system is -wi-ong. I am a radical on 
 this point. There can be no improvement, no develop- 
 ment in i)rogTess, where there is no adequate incentive 
 to action, as you have probably heard Mr. Hume remark. 
 Our ag-ricultural implements are no better than those 
 in use fitty years ago. The genius of progi-ess seems 
 to have folded her wings and retii-ed fi-om among men. 
 Occasionally, at rare intervals, some one stum])les upon 
 some new thing, or some improvement of the old. But 
 who will devote time, talent, labor, and money, or the 
 scrip which represents it, thus depri^■ing• himself and his 
 family, if he has one, of the comforts of life, for the 
 pui'pose of devising some new thing, when the thing 
 itself is not his after he has found it, but belongs to me 
 as weU, and to no one in particular ? As the govern- 
 ment owns him and his invention, he will not trouble 
 himself to invent." 
 
 " Dr. Leete speaks of prizes or awards to those who 
 excel in any line," I said. 
 
 ''What do these amount to? It is simply being 
 gazetted as a successful person in the particular depart- 
 ment of labor or entei*prise where he belongs. I have 
 had this honor repeatedly as the one who excelled as a 
 farmer. But it is empty as the wind. The name is 
 read and in an hom- forgotten ; the medal is seen to- 
 day and to-morrow is remembered no more. The fickle 
 midtitude shout, ' Hosanna to oiu- King ! ' one day, and 
 the next cry out as vociferously, ' Crucify Him ! ' He 
 who spends his vital or mental force to secm-e such 
 empty applause and ephemeral notorietj^ has little ap- 
 preciation of then* real value. They have in them no 
 quality which can stimulate human industry or skill." 
 
 " I fear you are a pessimist," I remarked. 
 
 "I think not, I endeavor to look at all matters 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 179 
 
 calmly and rationally. Can you point out wherein I 
 am in error or a. pessimist ? " 
 
 "Not on the spot. Your statements are rather 
 stunning in theu' character ; and certainly you do not 
 lack force in giving expression to them. Do you wish 
 to return to the old ways ? " 
 
 " I do not fidly understand what you mean by ' old 
 ways.' My impression is that the old ways were gradu- 
 ally improving all the time. Much that then existed is 
 better than what we have now. The removal of motive 
 for personal activity has proved a great loss — in fact, it 
 is death to enterprise and development. The lack of 
 intercourse and communication among om* people is 
 proving disastrous. But I will not attempt an enu- 
 meration of the lame places in our system. It is too 
 defective all over to require analysis. When a man 
 loses his personal identity and becomes the tool or in- 
 strument of another, whether that other be a man or 
 a government, he is too near a cipher to ever become a 
 power in the world. If he were a slave and still had 
 an interest in and control over the products of his 
 genius or skill, there would be hope for him. But even 
 this privilege is denied to American citizens under our 
 economy." 
 
 " Your estimate is gloomy indeed. Have you no plan 
 of improvement, or no substitute ? " 
 
 " I do not dignify my notions into the realm of plans. 
 It seems to me that the benefits of our system can be 
 retained in connection with the blessings of a system 
 which secures personal freedom and the right to enjoy 
 the fruits of one's own toil, whether of mind or body. If 
 the government has the right to demand and command 
 the services of all its citizens, sui-ely it has the right to 
 dispose of its pauper population by compelhng them to 
 
180 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 work for the common weal, as others aud myself are 
 compelled to work. If I understand the facts, the change 
 from individual to united effort was made almost ex- 
 clusively for the Ijenetit of the poor, or to hanish poverty 
 from the land. If the government had set apart a i)or- 
 tion of its public domain while yet under its control, 
 and then made all the paupers and the poor who were 
 able to work go to such reserved lauds and make their 
 own li\4ng, the remedy would either have removed or 
 greatly mitigated tlie disease. It kept thousands of 
 Indians on reservations and fed them from the proceeds 
 of the toil of the white population. This last feature 
 was a nuinifest injustice, unless by some process of rea- 
 soning, not clear to me, this policy and procedm'e were 
 designed as pa^-meut for the land, to which the Indians 
 had a very questioual)le title. It was not placed ui)on 
 this footing, so far as the re(;ords show. Why did the 
 government take such care of the Indians aud not 
 provide for its owm poor ? If it could compel Indians 
 to go to certain specified districts of country, why not 
 compel the unprovided poor of the white population to 
 do the sanu' thing ? I am unable to see why one of these 
 policies might not have been adopted as weU as the 
 other. I am aware that the theory of government then 
 was essentially different from what it is now, and was 
 not in the line of this suggestion. But self-preservation 
 and wide benevolence both ai)])ear to me to demand 
 such a poUcy, or something kindred to it ; and self- 
 preservation is nature's first law. Possibly my present 
 environments disqualify me as a judge in the premises ; 
 and yet the possilulity of these existing envu-onments 
 is a factor to be taken into consideration of the subject. 
 Certainly such a c(uirse woidd have lieen prefei-able to 
 the wholesale destruction of life and property by a fif- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 181 
 
 teen years' war, diiriug which both the wealthy and the 
 poor of the hmd disappeared. 
 
 "■ There was still another method by wliich the poor 
 might have been relieved, and all the real benefits of 
 our system, conil)ined with the advantages of the old, 
 been secured. A tax for the poor could have been de- 
 vised by the use of which employment could have been 
 secured in some department of industry, if such depart- 
 ment had to be provided by the government. Those 
 who possessed wealth could much better have devoted 
 a tenth of it to provide for the poor than to lose it all 
 in the hope of saving it intact." 
 
 "I am afraid your plans are too visionary. They 
 certainly would have been considered so in my time." 
 
 " If they are more visionary or revolutionary than 
 the one which makes the government owner of the man 
 and the products of his labor, I fail to see it." 
 
 " Possibly not. But to me, just from the nineteenth 
 centmy, they appear novel and scarcely practicable. 
 But, of course, I may be wrong. Do you think the 
 present condition of things is permanent 1 " 
 
 '' Not by any means. It is the most difficult thing 
 in the world to make machines of men. Ah-eady the 
 murmurs of discontent can be heard on every hand. I 
 am sure the thrifty farmers are ill at ease. They do 
 not fancy being placed on the same level with the idle 
 and careless ones. There is growing discontent in every 
 direction. If you will accompany Mr. Hume on some 
 of his excursions through the city, you will find that 
 even among the paupers there is dissatisfaction. And 
 of all others they ought to feel themselves highly 
 favored. They are daily and yearly receiving some- 
 thing for nothing. Instead of being thankful, they 
 claim this as their right, and are the most self-impor- 
 
182 LOOKLKa WITHIX. 
 
 taut class of all our population, wliicli fact does not 
 tend to hai-monize opinions and feelings." 
 
 " You predict a change, then ? " 
 
 "Yes; in less than five years there will he changes 
 and modifications, if not an actual revolution. Labor 
 is now organized, not against capital, but in opposition 
 to pampered pauperism in places of ease. But it is 
 doing its work quietly." 
 
 I thanked Mr. Acre for his kindness in giving me the 
 benefit of so long an inter\dew. After a j)leas;int I'isit 
 with the family we returned to the city. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 In accordance with Mr. Acre's suggestion, I sought 
 an early opportunity to accompany Mr. Hume through 
 the city. 
 
 We first visited the magnificent public edifices, which 
 were the pride of Boston. I need not dwell on their 
 elegance ; the reader can picture as well as I caii de- 
 scribe them. The vast awnings were dehghtfid i-e- 
 treats from the heat or the rain. As we examined 
 these buildings and tlieu* adornments, my companion 
 said: 
 
 " These are some of the costly structures of which 
 Mr. Acre complains so earnestly." 
 
 " What is the object of such lavish expenditures ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 "Simply to adorn and beautify the city. It is to 
 gratify the pride of the citizens." 
 
 " Then I do not blame Mr. Acre for feeling indignant." 
 
 " One half the labor and expense would meet all the 
 requu'ements both of comfort and usefulness." 
 
 " The other half goes for aesthetic taste, I suppose." 
 
 "More nearly for ostentation. They were erected 
 years ago, w^hen there was prosperity, and when there 
 were funds to expend. No new structures are now in 
 process of erection because no means are left for such 
 purposes." 
 
 This last remark made little impression at the time, 
 but afterwards was vividly recalled to mind. When 
 
 183 
 
184 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 the gi'ancleur and glory of the city had been observed, 
 Mr. Hume said : 
 
 " You have seen the beauty and splendor of Boston ; 
 now we "will look upon its wretchedness and squalor." 
 
 I found no tenement-houses, no rickety stairs to 
 climb, no damp and reeking cellars to explore. Out- 
 ward appearances were not unpleasant ; until the inner 
 veil was dra"«Ti aside nothing repul.sive was encountered. 
 
 Then I saw sights to chill the blood. Children 
 nearly naked ran to hide ; women half-clad sought to es- 
 cape observation ; little ones crying for bread ; fathers 
 beastly di'unk ! I cannot find it in my heart to depict 
 the scenes of wi*etchedness and misery which I beheld. 
 Except in the matter of houses only, which could not 
 be sold, what I saw was a repetition of the degradation 
 of the nineteenth century. I inquired indignantly : 
 
 '' How can these things be, under your paternal gov- 
 ernment ? " 
 
 " Simply because these men and women are selfish 
 and sinful." 
 
 " W\ij are they not punished ? " 
 
 "We have no laws provided for such cases. It was 
 confidently believed they would not and could not exist 
 under our beneficent economy. I have reported the 
 facts to the government repeatedly, but wdthout results. 
 I am simply directed to do the best I can until a remedy 
 shall be devised." 
 
 " This is dreadful ! Fathers di'unk, and wife and 
 children ragged and hungry ; pai'ents both (h'unk, and 
 children naked and star\dug ! Does Dr. Leete know 
 this state of affair-s ? " 
 
 " He does not believe these evils exist." 
 
 '' Wliy does he not investigate ? " 
 
 " I have frequently invited him to accompany me as 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 185 
 
 you are doing-, but lie is either too busy or has no in- 
 cliuation to do so. I sometimes think it will do no 
 good to destroy his dream of human happiness by these 
 exhibitions of depravity, suffering, and wretehedness." 
 
 " I think he and every citizen ought to know the facts 
 and remedy these teriible wrongs if possible." 
 
 "Did knowledge of wrongs enable you to remedy 
 them hi the nineteenth centmy ? " 
 
 '' Only to a limited extent. But the conditions now 
 and then are so different." 
 
 '' True. But men are the same. Taste and passion 
 are the same. Men cannot be reformed by either Ijread 
 or law. There is no moral quality in either of these. 
 You doubtless recall many instances in your time when 
 there would be a black sheep in this family and that — 
 a devil, as it were, coming from a comj^any of angels. 
 Then again there were white sheep coming from bad 
 families, like angels coming from a company of devils, 
 so to speak. Yet these black sheep and white sheep 
 had the same care, shelter, food, clothing, and parental 
 care as the others. No philosopher has ever been able 
 to account for the difference. But there it is, a stern 
 fact, known and seen of all men. It is the same under 
 our paternal government, only, there being one great 
 family, the black sheep are multiphed a thousandfold. 
 You have witnessed some of the results; I will now 
 show 3^ou more. As before stated, I have not succeeded 
 in getting Dr. Leete to look upon these evidences of 
 want, suffering, and sin, because of his disinchnation 
 to see or believe anything that is not desirable in our 
 social order. And then, too, ' where ignorance is bliss 
 'tis foUy to be wise.' We will now look in upon the 
 gamblers." 
 
 It woidd be a waste of time and space to narrate all 
 
186 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 oiir adventures in the dens where men lost and won as 
 of old. It was a rei)etitlon of the same deeds as made 
 men mad in the nineteenth century. The gumblei's en- 
 (U'uvored to escape in some instances, in others to hide 
 the evidences of their nefarious practices. But Mr. 
 Hume knew them. Tlieir devi(;es were confiscated and 
 destroyed ; numbers of them were arrested and fined. 
 For the time their operations were terminated ; but 
 they woidd soon rally and try again. The pri\'ate stills 
 and breweries were also raided and captm-ed as far as 
 discovered, and destroyed, the operators })unished. 
 
 Deplorable as were the evils of drink and gambling, 
 the orgies revealed at night under cover of darkness 
 were still worse. The former led to physical and 
 financial distress, the latter to mt)ral ruin. People of 
 whom better things would be expected were found en- 
 gaged in riotous living, to depict which would defile 
 these pages. I was horrified at the revelations. My 
 very soul was made sick. I finally begged my guide 
 to take me from such scenes of debauchery and crime. 
 I almost felt a loatliing of my kind as I esca2)ed with a 
 shudder from the presence and dominion of "her 
 whose steps take hold on hell." I breathed freer when 
 I reached God's pure air once more. 
 
 "And this is Boston in the year 2000 ! This is Dr. 
 Leete's Eden ! Heaven save the mark ! " I exclaimed. 
 Mr. Hume replied : 
 
 "Not Boston proper, my friend, only undergi'ound 
 Boston." 
 
 " It matters not what name or qualification you g-ive 
 it ; it is the same old hell upon earth of former times. 
 The glory of the new era grows dim ; its gold is tinsel ; 
 its beauty vanishes. It is the illusive fruit of Sodom, 
 enticing to behold, turned to bitter ashes on the Lips." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 187 
 
 '^ I am afraid you are too severe. You have been too 
 suddenly awakened from a pleasant di-eam. Human 
 nature, as I said, is the same as it was in your day, no 
 better, no worse. Our mistake has been in presuming 
 that appliances whicli have no moral qualities or prop- 
 erties in themselves coidd, nevertheless, impart these 
 to men. This is nothing- new. It has been a mistake 
 of the ages, even of the church at times. It is more 
 manifest in oiu- case because it is on such a wide scale. 
 You must not do us injustice." 
 
 " I would not l)e unjust to the meanest creature God 
 has made ; but what am I to think of the morals of a 
 community whose most favored members are giiilty of 
 these excesses ? " 
 
 "It is nothing new. Were not kings, queens, and 
 princes guilty of like conduct through all the past 
 centuries ? Were not the rich of youi- day often as bad 
 as these ? " 
 
 " True." 
 
 "Yes, true, because the master passion of the human 
 heart when once unchained becomes master of the man. 
 Our people have plenty of leisure and no care for bodily 
 needs or comfort. Under such favorable conditions 
 what but disastrous residts coidd be expected ? " 
 
 " This is such a rude shock to me that I must have 
 time to reflect. I had earnestly hoped for better things. 
 I was largely inclined to the optimistic view of the 
 new dispensation. The kaleidoscope is broken ; its 
 fragments he scattered at my feet. I must find time 
 and place to collect and replace them under the new 
 light." 
 
 An incident occun*ed dm-ing the day which I now re- 
 late because of its after-consequence. Mr. Hume entered 
 a building to transact some business ; I took a seat by 
 
188 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 the dooi", inside. Two ladit^s passed by, between whom 
 I lieard this fragment of conversation : 
 
 " I think she will not carry her head so high after we 
 are done with lier." 
 
 "What will Mr. West do when he sees her?" 
 
 " I think the sight will dampen his ardor, and " 
 
 They passed out of hearing, and the remainder of the 
 sentence was not heard by me. Before I had time to 
 consider the purport of this conversation Mr. Hume was 
 ready and we resumed our way. As I stepped into the 
 street my eye glanced in the direction the women were 
 going. I saw them enter a house. Prompted by I know 
 not what, I made a note of the street and number. Five 
 minutes later the incident passed from my mind com- 
 pletely, and probably never would have been recalled 
 but for subsequent events to be nari'ated hereafter. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Effie and I received a very cordial invitation to visit 
 again Mr. Acre's family. We selected a beautiful day 
 and set out early in the afternoon, intending to explore 
 the country in several directions. Neither of us had 
 been favored with an opportunity to see the environ- 
 ments of the city. 
 
 Many of the views were enchanting. We ascended 
 to an altitude where the distant ocean was distinctly 
 visible as it spread out away in the far distance and 
 kissed the bending sky. Few vessels were in sight on 
 its placid bosom. There were no evidences of commer- 
 cial activity ; no smoking steamers hastening into port 
 or speeding away to other chmes ; no vessels in the 
 harbor loading and unloading their cargoes ; no indi- 
 cations of trade and traf&c. How different from the 
 nineteenth century ! 
 
 Away off to the northward were the dim outlines of 
 the Green Mountains; in all directions places of his- 
 toric interest. The scene was exhilarating. 
 
 Presently we turned our attention to the fields and 
 farms beneath us, and descended to get into closer 
 proximity to them. It required no skill of the specialist 
 to discover the truth of what Mr. Acre had said about 
 slovenly farming. I could detect good and bad cultiva- 
 tion and care at sight. My early experience gave me 
 this advantage. Only a small proportion of the farms 
 
 189 
 
190 LOOKING ^^^THIN. 
 
 were in first-class order ; more were in a fail* condition ; 
 a majority were discrcditiOdo to the oceujjant.s ; while 
 large numbers were in such miserable plight as con- 
 firmed the worst estimate Mr. Acre had placed upon 
 them. "With equal facilities on the part of all, the dis- 
 pai'ity was much greater than in my time. 
 
 We were welcomed with open hospitality, and Effie 
 found new friends of congenial tastes. At my request 
 Mr. Acre enUghteued us again. 
 
 "As I said to you the other day, there is great 
 inequality in the distribution of the burdens of lal)or. 
 The jjcople of the cities have all the ease, those of the 
 country all the hardships. You have seen the elegance 
 and splendor of the city. Do you see any of it in the 
 country ? No ; you find only plain accommodations 
 here, without ornament or adornment of any kind — 
 nothing to cultivate a taste for the beautiful. The 
 buildings are fau'ly convenient and plainly substantial. 
 We produce; the denizens of the city cook and eat. 
 We not only produce the food of the nation, but we 
 do oui- own cooking and washing; in the cities the 
 cooking is done by wholesale and the washing and 
 ironing by machinery. If close by, farmers can avail 
 themselves of these advantages; but when a few miles 
 distant it is very inconvenient, if not impossible, to do 
 so. Farmers' wives have no easy time with theii* work. 
 Eight hours with them often lengthens to ten or twelve 
 when they cultivate refinement or have aesthetic tastes 
 to gratify. 
 
 "■ It is this gi'cat disparity between the comforts of 
 the city and the hardships and privations of the coun- 
 try that causes such a rush of people to the former. 
 Tliis tendency has produced its legitimate effect. With 
 all its care to pro^ide food in abundance to meet all the 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 191 
 
 demands of consumption, tlie government finds itself 
 embarrassed to keep up the snpply. Young- men in- 
 cline to choose occupations in the cities for the reasons 
 already given ; and who can blame them 1 As a result 
 the crop reports show a steady relative dechne, while 
 the census returns show a steady relative increase, of 
 population in the cities. There can be but one of two 
 outcomes — a scarcity of food, or a compulsory distribu- 
 tion of labor. Akeady this alternative is staring the 
 government squarely in the face. For twenty-five or 
 thii-ty years, while the country was recuperating and 
 the rel)uilding of the cities requii-ed hard labor, this 
 tendency did not exist or was not observed ; but now 
 it is too apparent to be mistaken. Our pohcy is one 
 for the growth of cities and not for the development 
 of the farming interests. The food supply must be 
 looked after." 
 
 " Why not appropriate the cities exclusively to the 
 old people retired on pensions, and have the rest all 
 distributed for productive and mechauical labor?" I 
 said. "Certainly tins would be more equitable and 
 judicious tlian the present methods ? " 
 
 " It has been suggested and will doubtless be carried 
 out in time, perhaps soon. When we have the census 
 returns for tliis year completed and analyzed, some 
 action will be taken. I am expecting much valuable 
 and uscfrd information from that source. 
 
 "There is one other element of hardship in the 
 farmer's lot which at first does not appear. It is only 
 learned from experience. Government can make no 
 provision for permanent family homes. Next year I 
 shall be forty-five, and my time for the occupancy of 
 this house will expire. It then reverts to the govern- 
 ment. My son wiU probably succeed me. That is the 
 
192 LOOKING ^\^THIN. 
 
 rule where all parties are agreed, and is found to operate 
 well. This will break up om* happy family relations." 
 
 The tears came into Mr. Acre's eyes, and his lips 
 quivered. His w^fe saw his emotion and came at once 
 to his side ; she had heard the last words uttered, and 
 knew that a sore place had been touched. As a com- 
 forter she placed a hand on each side of his head and 
 said cheernv : 
 
 *' Never mind, dear. We shall be left to each other, 
 and some home "will be provided for us." 
 
 *' Yes, but all these cherished associations will be cut 
 off," he replied. "Here we have spent all the years 
 of om' wedded life ; here our childi*en have been born 
 and grown up. We have tried to make home attractive 
 for their sakes and for ourselves ; and now so soon it 
 will all be over." 
 
 He spoke with deep emotion, and the tears that had 
 stood in his eyes, held back by force of will, now slowly 
 rolled down his cheeks. Unable longer to master her 
 own f eeUngs, the "vsif e's cheeks were also wet. I looked 
 at Effie. She also was crying. Every eye in that house 
 Avas full of tears. After a time I found command of 
 myself and said : 
 
 '* This is an entu*ely new feature of the case to me. 
 Cannot such a calamity as the breaking up of famiUes 
 be averted ? " 
 
 " How can it be ? The government can never know 
 how many children there will be in a family ; and even 
 if it did know, how could it provide homes for all of 
 them ? If my son is my successor here, which we all 
 expect, we can remain Anth him until he is married. 
 But to keep him single until we died would be more 
 cruel than for us to find a new place to live. The order 
 of nature is reversed by our artificial society. Instead 
 
LOOKING WITHm. 193 
 
 of the parents retaining the homestead, as yon nsed 
 to call it, but which is no homestead at all under our 
 economy, the children, or one of them, remains in pos- 
 session, and the parents are turned out of house and 
 home and sent elsewhere. The land is cut up into 
 forty-acre tracts and less. If there are ten children in 
 the family, it would require ten houses, or one to eacli 
 four acres, to accommodate them mth separate homes. 
 Another generation equally prolific would require one 
 hundred additional houses, and the forty acres would 
 be a village. Any I'ate of increase would soon Ijlot 
 out all the farms of the country, and no tillable land 
 would be left. Necessity compels the old occupants to 
 be sent out." 
 
 '' Under the old system of things families were 
 separated when the children grew up and were mar- 
 ried," I said. 
 
 '' True ; yet where father and mother lived was 
 always home to the cliildren. Now there is no home 
 association. One married son or daughter may succeed 
 the parents, and the rest are dumped out in the cold, 
 or sent to some strange place to live. That dear old 
 song, ' Home, Sweet Home,' is largely a legend of the 
 past. Separation is now compulsory, not voluntary, 
 and that makes all the difference in the world. It is 
 the difference between freemen and slaves." 
 
 "I understand now, as I did not then," I remarked, 
 " what you said the other day, when you designated 
 the people as slaves, and the government as the one 
 great master. I fear I shall never be able to love this 
 system of government. Every new development ren- 
 ders it less attractive." 
 
 " It becomes more apparent also why the city is pref- 
 erable to the country as a place of residence. At the 
 
194 LOOKINO WITHIN. 
 
 end of the forty-five years there, no necessity may 
 arise for a change of residence. The occupations do 
 not reqiiu'e it as here. Dr. Leete will doubtless retain 
 possession of his present residence when his daughter 
 marries. She will find the new home, or possibly reside 
 with her parents, as she is the only child. He never can 
 know the sad experience of the farmer, and is utterly 
 disqualified to pass judgment on the question of our 
 civilization as it affects us." 
 
 "■ I never should have guessed at these facts, but as 
 you state them, I perceive the impossibility of their be- 
 ing anything else but facts. Nor do I see any way to 
 avoid them or then- painfid accompaniments." 
 
 " And the reasons for the popularity of city life are 
 also made more and more apparent. Farms mtII have 
 to be cut down to twenty, ten, and even five acres in 
 time. But that does not change the results. WTien 
 the time comes the occupauts must go ; the actual 
 farmer must be the resident on the farm." 
 
 " I perceive the logic of the situation. But is there 
 no compensation ? " 
 
 '' In a sense there is. Government is bound to furnish 
 every citizen a place to dwell in, Avhether it be called 
 home or not. In that all have houses to occupy, our 
 system is an improvement upon its predecessor. It 
 feeds all in theory also ; but, as you have seen with 
 Mr. Hume, some go hungry, despite the good intent of 
 the government." 
 
 " Yes, I understand that now ; yet it seems to me a 
 remedy ought to be pro\dded." 
 
 " Not until humanity ceases to be selfish." 
 
 "You said the other day there would be changes 
 made soon. Of what nature are tbey?" 
 
 " I do not feel at Uberty to exj^lain now. One thing, 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 195 
 
 the able-bodied paupers of the cities will be compelled 
 to engage in some productive labor, and the cities given 
 up largely to the pensioners. The necessity for an in- 
 crease of food-supphes to keep pace with the growth 
 of population is upon us and must be met. But, as I 
 said to you the other day, there must be even more 
 radical changes before satisfactory results of a perma- 
 nent character can be attained. Change or stagnation 
 must come ; and stagnation is the prelude to death. I 
 do not think we shall die." 
 
 Much more I desired to ask my host ; but the time 
 for our departure had come, and with a sense of in- 
 debtedness for the cordial hospitahty of our entertain- 
 ers, whose society had been to us a rich treat, we bade 
 them adieu. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The following day I ^dsite(i some of the factories to 
 see how they were managed. I learned nothing of 
 importance. No new method and no improvement on 
 old ones were \dsible. There was no energy, no push, 
 no enterprise. Slowness seemed to prevail everywhere, 
 and in all departments of endeavor. I appreciated bet- 
 ter Mr. Acre's remark about stagnation. 
 
 On returning to our I'ooni I found Effie in a state of 
 gi'cat excitement. 
 
 ''What is it?" I asked. 
 
 " Have you not heard about Edith Leete ? " 
 
 " No. Anything serious ? " 
 
 " The most fiendish act of its kind ever perpetrated 
 upon a human being. She is utterly disfigured. Her 
 former beauty is tui-ned into hideousness. I cannot 
 describe it ; you must see for yom'self . She is totally 
 prostrated ; so are her parents. Mr. "West has not 
 seen her yet, and she cannot bear the thought of his 
 seeing her." 
 
 " Is the disfigurement or deformity permanent ? " 
 
 " It is said it can never be removed. But come with 
 me and see her. The doctor desires it greatly. Com- 
 fort them if you can." 
 
 We wcn-e at Dr. Loete's in a few minutes. At first 
 Edith would not permit me to see her face ; finally she 
 removed the thick veil from over it. I was startled at 
 
 196 
 
LOOmNG WITHIN. 197 
 
 the sight. On one cheek was the pictm-e of a creature, 
 half human, half fish, sunilar to the representations of 
 mermaids of old. Its face was a gross caricature, but 
 retained enough distorted resemblance to give assurance 
 it was intended to delineate Miss Leete herself. On 
 the other cheek was an ogi*e looking toward her with a 
 kind of leer and gi-oss admu-ation. The mermaid figure 
 was nude from the waist upward. On the neck, with 
 its head reaching up and over the chin, was a thii-d 
 figure, evidently intended as a caricature of Mr. West. 
 Beneath, on the lower part of the neck, just at the base 
 of the last-named figure, this legend was painted in 
 distinct letters : 
 
 " Mr. West sees Edith making love to another." 
 
 Any movement of the face caused the figures to 
 grimace at each other detestably. It was a most in- 
 genious and Satanic piece of work, requiring great skill 
 and adroit ability in its line, but marked by a depth of 
 depravity beyond comprehension. What human being 
 could have such malice toward one so lovely and lov- 
 able as Miss Leete ? 
 
 " Who did this ? " I asked in indignation. 
 
 '' I will tell you the whole story," said Edith, " so far 
 as I know it. I was passing along the street very 
 quietly when a voice called to me : 
 
 " ' O Miss Leete, please step in ; I have something to 
 show you.' 
 
 " Not knowing but I could be of service to some one, 
 and never for a moment suspecting harm or wrong, I 
 entered the door, when it was immediately closed and 
 locked behind me. Before I had time to eoUect my 
 wits, a hand, then a pad, were placed upon my mouth. 
 I was then seated in a large chair with a high back. 
 Thi-ee women in masks were present, and one man. 
 
198 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 One of the women, who appeared to be the leader, said 
 to me : 
 
 " ' If you are quiet and do not struggle you will not 
 be hurt. We shall inflict no pain. We simjjly have a 
 prei)aratiou here which we wish to try upon your com- 
 plexion. If you will be patient and give us no trouble 
 we will soon be through with the experiment.' 
 
 " Witli that they put upon my face, one after another, 
 the hori'ible things you see, taking pains in transfer- 
 ring them to impress them indelibly upon the shin. 
 When they were done, the speaker said : 
 
 " ' There, you are a beauty now ! Mr. West will be 
 so proud of you you will scarcely be able to bear his 
 acbniration. ^Vll the young ladies will be en^•ious of 
 the attention you will attract. You can hold your head 
 higher than ever after this, and break all the gu-ls' 
 hearts by stealing their beaux from them. Just look 
 in the glass and see how greatly we have improved 
 yom' good looks.' 
 
 " And she held up a glass before me. I do not know 
 why I did not faint or try to scream. But I did not. 
 I kept perfectly quiet, for which I am now thankful. 
 They evidently expected a scene, and were disappointed. 
 I am glad that this i)art of their wicked plot failed. 
 They were masked so completely I did not know them, 
 nor did I recognize the voices. Only one spoke. Be- 
 fore releasing me, the woman said : 
 
 " '■ You can rest assured these additions to your beauty 
 will never wear off or wash out. These colors have 
 been discovered by a chemist, who warrants them to be 
 permanent and imperishable.' 
 
 "As soon as the door was opened, I drew the veil 
 over my face and came home. In the excitement and 
 hurry of the moment I forgot to notice the house or 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 199 
 
 the number, and am by no means certain I could find 
 tlie place. That is the story in full. I have tried to 
 wash out the stains, and father has exhausted his skill 
 in efforts to remove them. But the horrible things re- 
 main as distinct as ever." 
 
 Here the doctor broke in : 
 
 " I did not believe that Edith had an enemy in the 
 world. I know she merits the good- will of every person 
 in Boston. She never harmed any one, but has been 
 kind to aU. I cannot imagine the wickedness that could 
 perpetrate such an outrage. I never heard or read of 
 such a crime before. It is an unthinkable deed. How 
 could any one be depraved enough to do such a cruel 
 act?" 
 
 "And in this age of perfection, too," I said, with a 
 touch of sarcasm, I fear, " when all the wants of men 
 are provided for by a beneficent government ! " 
 
 " I think you will have to modify your statement by 
 restricting it to the physical wants," said Effie. " Evi- 
 dently the morals of the people are sadly out of repair." 
 
 "When persons are fed, clothed, and housed," said 
 the doctor, " what more can they ask ? I have always 
 believed that most crimes in the past arose from either 
 want or greed. This act is a new revelation to me. I 
 am staggered by it. My confidence in humanity has 
 received a severe shock, and my faith is badly shat- 
 tered." 
 
 At this junctm-e Mr. West came in. He was not at 
 the present time making his home with the doctor, but 
 elsewhere. Further conversation was suspended for 
 the time. Edith gave a sigh, almost a groan, as he 
 entered the door, and immediately covered her face. 
 She was almost overcome with emotion, and struggled 
 hard to master her feelings. Mr. West was amazed at 
 
2U0 LUUKING WITHIN, 
 
 his reception and what he saw\ He looked from one to 
 another for an explanation. I came to the relief of the 
 situation, which was becoming painful, and said : 
 
 " JVliss Leete has met with a misfortune which prom- 
 ises to disfigiu'e her for life. She cannot endui'e the 
 thought that you shall see her face as it now is." 
 
 " Oh, I must," he said with earnestness. " Nothing 
 can be as bad as not to be permitted to see her." 
 
 " But if you never can see her again as Edith, and 
 only as a horrible spectiTcle, what then ? " 
 
 *' She is still Edith to me, and I must see the worst." 
 
 " O Mr. West, I cannot bear it ! " said Edith in a tone 
 l)ordering on anguish. "Please do not ask it." 
 
 " Under ordinary circumstances your wish is my law ; 
 now it is different. Please let me know what it is. Be 
 assured, it will make no difference in my regard for 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, but I know it will. It must. I am no longer 
 the woman you loved. I fully and freely release you 
 from all obligation to me." 
 
 " And I will not be released for the causes you give. 
 If you dislike me I will be released, not otherwise." 
 
 " Oh, nothing of that kind ! " 
 
 " Please let me know the truth. Suspense is worse 
 than reality." 
 
 With an effort, almost beyond liei' strength of will 
 Edith removed the covering from her face, and the 
 frightful pictures in all their ugliness, revealed by the 
 glare of the electric lights, met his gaze. He had braced 
 himself for something terrible, but was not prepared 
 for such a sight. He staggered a moment, as if struck 
 by a blow, but recovered immediately. Edith was quick 
 to notice the shock he experienced, and said : 
 
 " Now that you have seen what I am, and can never 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 201 
 
 know me agaiu as Edith Leete of old, I fully release 
 you from our engagement. I cannot find it in my 
 heart to blight yoiu* life by fastening upon it such a 
 monster as I now am." 
 
 " I still love you as Edith Leete, and will not forsake 
 you. I did not love you for your face alone, but for 
 yourself, your noble and incomparable self. You are 
 the same, if your face is not." 
 
 '' But my face is a part of me, and you never could 
 appear in public with me ; nor could I go with you and 
 not feel ashamed and humiliated. You must feel the 
 same. I cannot exact such a sacrifice from you. It is 
 too much." 
 
 " Not if I choose to regard it as other than a sacrifice, 
 and desire it." 
 
 I here suggested that the matter rest as it was for the 
 present and permit time to be a factor in its final dis- 
 position. I felt that Mr. West had done aU that could 
 be required of an honorable man, and that both he and 
 Edith needed time for calm consideration of the delicate 
 subject. I saw, too, that Edith could not bear the strain 
 much longer. My suggestion was assented to, and we 
 all left for the night, that the family might obtain 
 needed rest. 
 
 " Come and see me early in the morning," said Edith 
 to Effie as they parted. And it was so agreed. 
 
 The next day Effie spent for the most part with her 
 afflicted friend. Not one of the family had slept a wink 
 during the previous night ; they all had a haggard and 
 worn appearance. So had Mr. West, who called to see 
 Edith. I took a walk with him. He was true and manly, 
 but I could see he was passing through a trying ordeal 
 — a fiery furnace of tribulation. It was plain to me 
 that relief must come soon, or all those immediately in- 
 
202 LOOKING WITHIN, 
 
 terested aiul iiivuh'cd would l)recik down. The teusiou 
 upon both mental and physical endurance was too great 
 to 1)1' prolonged many days, or even hours. 
 
 Edith \vas (puck to notice Mr. West's ha<;gard appear- 
 ance, aiul said to Effie more than once, she coidd not 
 endure the thought of marrying him, nor the thought 
 of giving liim u]). Death appeared to her to he the 
 only release from her condition of soul-tortm"e and 
 heart-anguish. The doctor aud Mrs. Leete were well- 
 nigh distracted. Edith was all the world to them. I 
 said to them : 
 
 '' Bear u\^. Relief may come from some quarter." 
 T had no idea at the time where any relief was possible, 
 l)ut desired to comfort if I could. The doctor replied : 
 
 " I ^voidd freely give my life to restore Edith to her 
 former self ; but I see no prospect, no hope. I have 
 tried every chemical preparation known ; others have 
 been suggested and tried ; but nothing avails. Oh, it 
 is hori'ible to think of a life so good as hers to be 
 wrecked in this manner! Not a ray of light or hope 
 upon all the dark future! How can she endure it? 
 How can her mothei-, or I, or Mr. West bear up under 
 the infliction ? " 
 
 As a siuii)le spectator and synipathizing friend it 
 was moi'e tlian I could contemplate without a pang. 
 How must it lie to them ! 
 
 That night I dn^anied of the Chemist of long ago. 
 In the di'eam I remembered the preparations he had 
 given me for removing all kinds of stains. I had not 
 thought of them for over a hundi'ed years. I recalled 
 the little case in my valise where he had placed them 
 with such care — an inner pocket or apartment made 
 on pin-pose, which I had never opened. I awoke. It 
 was a dream ; but the dream brought to my recoUec- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 203 
 
 tion the fact so long forgotten. That little arsenal 
 of chemicals might prove to be worth a world to dear 
 friends. I was so exercised over the matter I could 
 not wait for morning, l)iit aroused Efl&e and imparted 
 to her the possibly g(jod news. She became more in- 
 terested and excited than I was. With the early light 
 we arose. I went to my valise to examine its long- 
 hidden treasure. 
 
 The bottles were there in perfect order, hermetically 
 sealed and labeled. I examined them one after an- 
 other until I found the one wliich said : ''To remove 
 stains or discolorations from the human skin, from 
 whatever cause produced." 
 
 ''This is what I want," I said, with something of 
 exultation and excitement, and greatly gratified. Our 
 knowledge of the potency of the Chemist's preparations 
 in the cases where we had tested them gave us great 
 confidence in this one. There was so much at stake, 
 and we were both on snch a high key of excitement, 
 that even the possibility of failure made us anxious 
 and nervous. 
 
 We went early in the morning to the doctor's. I 
 exacted a promise from Effie to say nothing of our 
 hope until I had interviewed the doctor. I intended 
 to have a pledge from him to prosecute the per- 
 petrators of this fiendish work if detected and ar- 
 rested. He gave the pledge at first with energy; 
 l)ut when asked whether he would prosecute if Edith 
 sliould be fully restored, he said yes, but not so ear- 
 nestly. I knew his goodness of heart and disposition 
 to leniency, and so fastened the obligation strongly, 
 for the public good. Tliis done, I told him I had some 
 hope of removing the stains from his daughtei-'s face, 
 and with his and her consent would try ; but that he 
 
204 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 must he prepared for either success or disappointment. 
 I saw bow eagei'ly lie caught at the faintest prospect 
 of relief. 
 
 In the meantime Eflfie and Edith had been convers- 
 ing. As I approached the door between the two rooms 
 I heard Edith say : 
 
 " Yes, it is veiy noble of Mr. West to remain true to 
 me under this ordeal. But I saw it went to his heart. 
 I saw the involuntary start, the sensitive shiinking as 
 if hurt by a blow, when first he saw my misfortune. 
 That feeling has not left him. I honor him for his 
 manliness ; but nothing can induce me to fasten upon 
 him such an object as I am. He ndght endure it. He 
 may feel that honor binds him to this. But to chain 
 him to one he must ever dread to have his friends 
 behold is more than I can endure, even if he is willing 
 to become a martyr for my sake." 
 
 " For his own sake, you may say," said EfBe. " I am 
 sure it was not the mere charm of your face that led him 
 to love you, but the far more valuable possession of a 
 loving heart and pure soul. These remain unchanged." 
 
 "I know I am unchanged excej^t outwardly. But 
 the casket, in this case, is inseparable from the jewels, 
 if I have any jewels. My mind is made up. It has 
 cost me more, I ai:)prehend, than the pains of a dozen 
 deaths. The bittei'uess of the agony is i)ast, unless 
 Mr. West should awaken it anew. I have reached a 
 conclusion I believe to be right, and shall abide by it." 
 
 "If it blights Mr. West's life?" 
 
 " Oh, don't ! Don't say that ! I can bear any pain 
 but that ! If he suffers as I do ! How " 
 
 At this moment Mr. West was announced. He stiU 
 looked haggard and worn. Evidently he had passed 
 a sleepless night ; but he was calm, and declared his 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 205 
 
 readiness and full determination to carry out his en- 
 gagement with Edith. This deeply moved her. Before 
 she told him her own piu-pose and final determination 
 I said to him : 
 
 '' You have proved yoiu\self a man of honor, a true 
 nobleman. You have fulfilled our highest expecta- 
 tions. But will you now please retire and return 
 again iu two hours? I have the best of reasons for 
 making this request, which you shall know upon your 
 return." 
 
 He seemed reluctant to go ; yet after loving words 
 to Edith he departed. Edith was visibly affected. 
 
 Effle had said nothing to her friend about the main 
 purpose of our visit. I now called the family together, 
 and said : 
 
 " I do not wish to awaken any hope that may not be 
 realized; but I think I have a preparation here that 
 will remove this l^lotch from Edith's face. With the 
 assurance that it will do no harm, with youi' consent I 
 wish to try it." 
 
 As nothing coidd make matters worse, and as the 
 faintest hope was welcome, an instant and glad con- 
 sent was given. As the parents were not in a condi- 
 tion to bear the tension of suspense dimng the test, 
 they were induced to retii'e and rest in the other room. 
 
 With Effie's assistance I immediately proceeded to 
 apply the fluid. A chemically prepared brush of the 
 softest material accompanied the bottle ; full directions 
 were plainly given. The first application did not pro- 
 duce discernible effect. I could see, however, that it 
 was doing work. Effie looked disappointed. The tell- 
 tale shadow on her speaking face took some of the 
 faint light of hope from Edith's eyes. I glanced cheer- 
 ily at Effie and she ]>riglitened up. 
 
206 LOOKING AMTHIN. 
 
 I made but a few passes with the second application 
 when success became assuivd. I sig:nak'd to Effie to 
 keep quiet. As I proceeded silently, taking care to do 
 thorough work, the stains disappeared. In half an 
 hour the last trace of the deformity was gone. Edith 
 was herseK, more fresh and beautifid than before. I 
 took a looking-glass which I had purposely provided, 
 and holding it before her face asked : 
 
 " Can you see any improvement, Miss Leete?" 
 
 She looked in the mirror, gave one " Oh ! " and sank 
 back exhausted l)y the reaction. In a moment she 
 sprang up, threw her arms around Effie and kissed her 
 again and again. Then, as Mrs. Leete, attracted by 
 the slight noise, entered the room, Edith fell upon her 
 bosom and wept for joy. The doctor threw his arms 
 around them both. If on earth tliere was excess of 
 joy, it was in that room. It was gladness which could 
 not be expressed. Presently the doctor held Edith at 
 arm's-length, and gazing in her face with a thrill of 
 delight and parental pride, said : 
 
 '*I declare, daughter, you are more beautifid than 
 ever ! " 
 
 And now Mr. West retm-ned. I took him by the 
 hand and led him to Edith, who was then facing her 
 father, with her back to us. I touched her on the 
 shoulder. As she tm'ued around I said : 
 
 " Miss Leete, Mr. West." 
 
 He was fau*ly startled and stunned for a second. 
 Then, with an overmastering impidse, he placed his 
 arms around her and, pressing her to his heart, im- 
 printed a lovei''s ardent kiss upon her lips. He then 
 apologized, but was assured no apology was required. 
 The reader can imagine the gladness of that company — 
 perhaps. The doctor said he was so thankful and happy 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 207 
 
 he believed lie coiild forgive the devil for his wicked- 
 ness. But I held him to his promise to prosecute the 
 miscreants who had been guilty of this satauic crime. 
 They were detected by means of the memorandum I 
 had made on hearing the fragment of conversation 
 between the two women, as previously narrated. With 
 this clue Mr. Hume soon had the guilty parties ar- 
 rested. 
 
 It developed on the trial, as Mr. Hume had sug- 
 gested, that the crime was instigated by jealousy and 
 malice. A man by the name of Jackson, an unsuccess- 
 ful aspirant for Miss Leete's hand, had assisted the 
 three women in the infamous scheme. He furnished 
 the designs which were used, and procured the chem- 
 ical stains from a noted chemist, who was entirely 
 ignorant of the base use to which his skill had been 
 prostituted. It was also sho^vn that no known sub- 
 stance would remove the stains when once made. So 
 the skill of my old friend the Chemist became the 
 wonder and admiration of Boston ; for this trial was 
 the most noted that had ever taken place shice the 
 inauguration of the paternal government. The crune 
 itself was so revolting, the motive so dastardly, the act 
 itself so inhuman, the whole population was moved. 
 It was something to arouse a community rendered al- 
 most lifeless from lack of energy. The culprits were 
 convicted, fined, and imprisoned. 
 
 At the expiration of half the term of imprisonment 
 the doctor and Edith Leete \^dtli others joined in a 
 petition for the pardon of the culprits. They were 
 released from pi-ison ; l^ut the mark of their crime, 
 like that of Cain, could never be effaced. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 After making further observations, extending 
 through all classes of people and occupations, I was 
 enabled to reach conclusions on a rational basis. 
 
 Mr. Acre was sometimes a little radical and severe 
 in his mode of expression ; but he was right. He did 
 not exaggerate. The truth fully sustained all his con- 
 clusions. The cities served no good pmpose in the 
 economy of paternalism except as homes for pension- 
 ers. They were not needed as centers of business, 
 manufacture, or commerce. IVIr. Acre's view that they 
 should be used for housing the pensioned population 
 was sensible and in the line of true economy. It was 
 clear that the tendency to congregate in the cities on 
 the part of those who owed ser\ice must be checked. 
 To attain this end the privilege of choosing an occupa- 
 tion would have to be cm-tailed or aboKshed. Com- 
 pulsoiy employment where labor was required was the 
 only remedy. This was manifest by the obvious di'ift 
 of things. As yet 'I did not know the imminence of 
 the crisis. The sm'face was still calm and to a large 
 degree unruffled. Men and women went carelessly 
 and indifferently about their avocations, unconcerned 
 whether it was storm or sunshine. 
 
 The indidgent and idle life in the cities fostered self- 
 ishness and dissipation. Augmentation of population 
 in gi-eat centers increased crime. New avenues for 
 
LOOKING WITHIN, 209 
 
 open, and especially for illicit, lawlessness were devel- 
 oped. "Secret sins" were rapidly on the increase. 
 The tendencies to fraud multiplied. Stealing both 
 food and clothing from the depositories of the gov- 
 ernment began about this time to be carried on to 
 an alarming extent. Heretofore thefts had only been 
 of occasional occurrence ; now they grew so common 
 that guards had to be employed in large numbers to 
 protect the property in store. This was the legitimate 
 outcome of congregating masses of evil-disposed per- 
 sons in city limits, where the force of numbers became 
 a fruitful promoter of misdoing. The comparative 
 impunity with which crimes and misdemeanors could 
 be perpetrated stimulated wrong-doers in the way of 
 transgressiou. As Mr. Acre expressed it, the cities 
 were rapidly becoming Sodomized. Murders and sui- 
 cides greatly increased. "Women were sometimes as- 
 sailed in the streets. Virtue was no longer its own 
 protector. Vice was aggi'essive. 
 
 The sense of injustice toward the rural popula- 
 tion, who performed all the useful and productive 
 labor, while the denizens of the cities enjoyed all the 
 ease and comfort, grew apace. The magnificence and 
 pride of the cities conti-asted with their privations, 
 hardships, and obscurity caused a feeling of indigna- 
 tion and discouragement. Such manifest inequality 
 could not long be endured without redress or revolt. 
 Evidently there must be a radical modification of the 
 present order of thiugs, or there would be revolution. 
 I had no means of knowing how the government 
 viewed the situation, nor what measures of relief it 
 proposed, if any. That something must be done, could 
 be felt in the aii*. I learned more in time, as will be 
 seen further on. 
 
210 LOOKIXii WJTinX. 
 
 Laborers could he o^radcd as follows : 
 
 1. Sailors, miners, and others employed where ex- 
 plosives, chemical products, etc., were handled. Haz- 
 ardous callings. 
 
 2. Farmers exposed to storms and inclement weather. 
 
 3. Laborers under shelter, manufacturers, mechan- 
 ics, artisans. 
 
 Mr. Acre's paupers constituted a fourth class, but, 
 })eino: consumers and not producers, could scarcely be 
 dig'uified as laborers in any legitimate sense. The rest 
 of the population were pensioner's. 
 
 What could be done to equalize this unequal distri- 
 bution of the burdens of labor ? What compensation 
 could be provided for the extra-hazardous departments 
 of employment? These questions must be met and 
 answered. 
 
 In the nineteenth century, and in all ages before 
 paternalism was established, there was perhaps as great 
 diversity of labor, and as much hazard as now. There 
 was, also, as much to complain of in hardships, per- 
 haps moi'e in privations. But action then was the 
 result of individual volition. Men enjoyed the fruits 
 of their own efforts. If exposed, there was with the 
 exposure a constant and cheering hope of gain — of 
 personal benefit. Results commensui-ate with the ex- 
 ertion and labor were confidently expected. Inequah- 
 ties then were incidents connected with liberty of 
 action ; now they were crystallized into law and cus- 
 tom, iron-bound and arbitrary. Toil and exposure 
 bring with them no hope of personal advantage. Do 
 as he may, the individiuil cannot better his condition. 
 He can expect nothing in the future. His life stretches 
 away along the dull sands of a desert plain, without 
 even an oasis to cheer the desolate waste. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 211 
 
 Formerly thrift, industry, and economy brought their 
 rewards ; now there was no real demand for any of 
 these qualities. The indolent, slothful, and careless 
 fared as well as the most punctual and painstaking. 
 This is, practically, offering a premium for laziness. 
 The conscientious toiler gets nothing for his faithful- 
 ness; the sloth loses nothing by his delinquencies. 
 Such a system of fossilized injustice and inequality 
 must break down of its own inherent weakness. 
 There can be no lasting cohesion where the moral 
 sense is constantly outraged, where justice is un- 
 known, and where the temptation to be dishonest is 
 ever present. The question will constantly recur, even 
 to an honest man : '' Why should I be true when it 
 avails me nothing?" When the wrong-doer shares 
 equally as well as the right-doer, how long will the 
 latter continue faithful? Such a system is sure to 
 develop rogues. It cannot produce men and women 
 of highly developed mental, moral, and spiritual pow- 
 ers. If such are found, it is in spite of their environ- 
 ments. 
 
 All the qualities of human nature remain as of old. 
 There is no improvement. Passions are just as strong ; 
 ambitions are just as grasping; popularity is craved 
 as gi'catly as ever; the "master-passion" still rules the 
 human heart. Nothing is changed but law and cus- 
 toms. Idleness and incHnation promote vice and 
 crime. People are good now because they resist 
 temptation, as has always been true. My observation 
 leads to the unmistakable conclusion that two persons 
 use their spare time for evil purposes, to where one 
 uses it for self-improvement or the general welfare. 
 Two thirds of each twenty-foui* hours being at the 
 disposal of all persons up to forty-five j^ears of age. 
 
212 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 and after that all time, it will l)e readily seen tliat the 
 opportunities for mischief are abundant and only the 
 inclination is neeessarj' to constitute of the people 
 so disposed a race of criminals. That the evil tenden- 
 cies are multiplying is evident. That any check to 
 these tendencies is availahle does not appear. All the 
 appearances, at first view so attractive, are misleading. 
 Beneath the surface there is no ''beauty that men 
 should desire it." 
 
 Discontent cropped out everywhere, unless it was 
 among the dissolute and shiftless. These had nothing 
 to gain by change, and were indifPerent. 
 
 I was amused as well as astonished at one phase of 
 the "woman question." Mr. Hume, as already stated, 
 had secured telephonic communication with every hall 
 or other place of meeting of public or secret societies 
 or assemblies. One of these is termed "The Ladies' 
 Secret C'irele." None but the initiated are admitted. 
 Its membership is composed almost exclusively of 
 women who are disaffected, disappointed, or in some 
 manner out of harmony mth existing conditions, or 
 sour because of failure in their desires or ambitions 
 — what in the nineteenth century would have secured 
 the appellation of grumblers. One of these meetings 
 was in progi'ess while I was at Mr. Hume's office. He 
 sat me down at the telephone to listen. 1 should have 
 said that the connection was secured by Mr. Hume to 
 aU places of secret resort without the knowledge of 
 the members of the societies or secret conclaves; 
 hence they talked freely among themselves imder 
 cover and pledge of secrecy. Almost the fii'st thing I 
 heard was this : 
 
 " Every large woman has a right to complain of the 
 action of the government. It requires a larger amount 
 
Looking within. 213 
 
 of goods of any kind to suitably clothe a large lady 
 thau it does a small one ; yet a little woman receives 
 just as much goods or scrip in payment for time as a 
 large one. The small woman can make herself look 
 more becoming than a large one because she can de- 
 vote more goods to drapery and ornament and yet 
 have plenty for the main portion of her dress. Large 
 women as a rule require more care in dress to make a 
 good and pleasing appearance than small ones. They 
 are more conspicuous because of size, and so defects 
 are more readily observed. The little woman there- 
 fore has the advantage to begin with, and can keep 
 and enhance it all the way through ; make herself 
 more attractive, and so win greater attention and suc- 
 cess. This is all wrong, and it is a wrong that should 
 be speedily righted." 
 
 "How can you right it"?" inquired another lady, 
 probably a smaller one. " If the little woman does as 
 much work as the large one, and does it as well, she is 
 siu'ely entitled to the same pay. It is the one's mis- 
 fortune that she is large, the other's good fortune that 
 she is small. I do not see how you can remedy this, 
 or where you will draw the line." 
 
 "Line or no hue, I am in favor of doing justice to 
 the large woman. Somehow the men nearly always 
 run after the little women, and the large ones do not 
 have a fair show. Then, giving the smaU ones the 
 advantage in dress is adding insult to injiuy." 
 
 "And what are you going to do about it"? What 
 remedy do you propose ? " 
 
 " We are told the theory of our government is that 
 every man and Avoman is entitled to a hving because 
 they are men and women. Now, I wish to know, on 
 the same principle, why a large woman is not entitled 
 
214 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 to large pay because she is a large woman? Can you 
 say she is not ? " 
 
 " If you are going to divide up on any such basis as 
 that, then the person who has a voracious a})petite 
 must be paid more than the one who eats less. IIow 
 will that workr' 
 
 "Appetite is a matter of habit and indulgence and 
 may l)e modified. But one cannot help growing, how- 
 ever she may desu'e to stop the process. This natural 
 and unavoidable result should be provided lor, the 
 same as any other phase of personality requiring spe- 
 cial attention. If a pei'son is a cripple, or diseased, or 
 otherwise rendered helpless, such person, male or fe- 
 male, is pro\-ided for by the government. So the mis- 
 fortune of being large shoidd be met l)y corresponding 
 aid on the part of the government." 
 
 " At what point will you draw the line between the 
 large and the small women ? " 
 
 " It should be fixed at a point midway between the 
 largest and the smallest, and then have a gi-aduated 
 scale for sizes ascending and descending." 
 
 " A woman, then, you think should be rated by her 
 avoirdupois ? " 
 
 "Not exactly; for some women are solider than 
 others and will weigh more to the same bulk. Height 
 and bust measure would probably be the most accurate 
 method of reaching the true standard of mensurement." 
 
 "What will the little women say to this!" 
 
 " Let them say what they please. What is right is 
 right, and should be done." 
 
 " But the question of right i§ the very one involved, 
 and seems to favor the snuill woman in this matter, 
 according to my ideas of justice and right. And what 
 of the large men ? " 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 2l5 
 
 " Oh, the government charges so much for a suit of 
 clothes for a gentleman, whether large or small, and 
 there is no difference. It is not so with women. They 
 pay according to the number of yards pm'chased, and 
 so the large woman is at a disadvantage." 
 
 " Suppose we adopt the plan of the gentlemen, and 
 purchase by the suit instead of by the yard." 
 
 "That would not work with ladies. They have to 
 suit complexion, figure, shape, and numberless small 
 appendages and peculiarities which could not be met 
 by a general order for a suit. You know how that is." 
 
 I was so greatly amused at these, to me new and 
 decidedly novel ideas, that I could not refi-ain from 
 laughing outright. The telephone carried the laugh 
 into the room where the ladies were, and a sudden 
 stillness followed, after the one exclamation of inquiiy : 
 
 "Who is that laughing?" 
 
 Mr. Hume muffled the instrument quickly, and said : 
 
 " I should have cautioned you not to make any noise 
 that the telephone will carry back. I do not wish 
 them to know I have connection with their room and 
 so become advised of all they do. You will readily 
 understand the situation." 
 
 u J I'egret my indiscretion. I ought to have known 
 better. But the affair struck me in such a ridiculous 
 light, the laugh came, like the boy's whistle, of itself," 
 I replied. 
 
 " No harm will result. In a few minutes, when they 
 become satisfied no one is listening, they will proceed 
 with the discussion of some fad or hobby, of which 
 they have many. I frequently pass an hour hstening 
 to their vaporings. I do this for information, not 
 from curiosity. The discussions in the secret societies 
 give a very good idea of the restlessness, disquietude, 
 
21G LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 uiid discontent wliicli lie beneath the surface of things. 
 The huly whom you heard just now i)i-()])().sing what 
 appeared to you as a great ahsurdity is not wliat the 
 world designates a crank. She moves in good society 
 and is well respected. She would scarcely talk in public 
 as she does in the secret circle. There are tlK^se, how- 
 ever, who do openly advocate the views she has set forth, 
 and she pr()bal)ly furnishes them with argiinu'uts and 
 suggestions quietly. She is a lady of some ability and 
 intelligence. There are other propositions equally as 
 humorous and alisurd as this one, from our standpoint of 
 view, which are advocated by those who favor changes 
 and amendments of our policy. I fancy the turmoil of 
 the nineteenth century is in a fair way to be repeated 
 in the near future. The under-currents are gTOwing 
 stronger and more outspoken. They will soon come 
 to the surface, if I mistake not, and will produce an 
 upheaval." 
 
 " Surely there cannot be much like that to which I 
 have been listening," I said with surprise. 
 
 " There is any amount of it — some not so much out 
 of the way as we think, while there is plenty of it 
 more foolish and unreasonable than anything you 
 have yet been introduced to or become acquainted 
 with. Men and women with active minds and plenty 
 of unoccupied time conceive wonderful things." 
 
 "What shape will change or changes take, think 
 you, if they come ? " I asked. 
 
 " I am not certain. The number of changes men- 
 tioned are numerous, but in some cases are favored by 
 only a small number. Mr. Acre foreshadowed one 
 that is at least probable — a change in the homes of 
 the population, especially of the cities and towns." 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 On tlie following Sabbath Mr. Hume invited us to 
 Ms office to hear a discourse by one of the most noted 
 ministers of Boston. The church was filled with j^eo- 
 ple from the country and from distant parts of the 
 city, so we listened in comfort and quiet by telephone. 
 When seated and composed, Mr. Hume said : 
 
 "■ Mr. Barton is an opthnist of the advanced type ; 
 he is even a zealous enthusiast. You have heard him 
 at the residence of Dr. Leete. He is the doctor's favor- 
 ite. The two look at things in much the same light. 
 The present to them is all beautiful, the past dark and 
 forbidding. You know in what rainbow colorings Mr. 
 Barton paints the present, and how darkly he contrasts 
 the past with it. With him the past is an abyss of 
 gloom, the jjresent all aglow with the sunlight of hope, 
 joy, and peace. To-day you will listen to a philosopher 
 as well as a preacher — a man who neither longs for the 
 past nor worships the present, Ijut tries to take a candid 
 view of both past and present with the probable results 
 of these upon the future. But as you will hear him for 
 yourselves I need say no more. 
 
 " One thing, however, I ought to name. Dr. Butler 
 is thoroughly posted. He will in all probability say or 
 refer to matters which have been discussed between you 
 and Mr. Acre and myself. It may seem to you like 
 repetition; but you must bear in mind that ninety- 
 nine out of every one hundred of his audience are as 
 
 217 
 
218 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 totally ignorant of many of these things as you were, 
 and that to them it will be a startling surprise. Place 
 yourselves in the position of these ninety-nine, vrith a 
 realization of how they feel now, and what effect the 
 words of the speaker will have upon them, and you 
 will be prepared as you otherwise eould not be to enjoy 
 and appreciate the sermon." 
 
 The horn* for sei-\'ices to commence had now arrived. 
 With close attention we coidd hear a whisper in the 
 church or the rustle of a garment, so perfect was the 
 instrument at which we listened. The singing was 
 excellent, unexcelled in sweetness and harmony. 
 
 Dr. Butler took his text from Matt. IG : 3, latter 
 clause of the verse : " Can ye not discern the signs of 
 the times ? " He then proceeded as follows : 
 
 " I have been requested to preach by a lai-ge number 
 of my congregation and fellow-citizens on a theme 
 which these words will indicate. There appears to be a 
 desire for information on subjects of which our people 
 are largely in ignorance, but upon which they ought to 
 be well instructed. 
 
 "Our present civilization has been on trial for a 
 period of nearly two ordinary generations. Its real 
 merits and demerits ought to l)e manifest. While the 
 place and the occasion demand that the body of this 
 discourse should be ^jrincipally confined to the social, 
 moral, and religious aspects of the times, yet some facts 
 are necessaiy to be understood before we can profitably 
 discuss these important features of the theme. All 
 matters calculated to better the condition of men are 
 appropriate to this place and to the sphere of an ' am- 
 bassador of Christ.' 
 
 " Thei'e are two questions fraught with weighty con- 
 siderations bearing upon tlie welfare of the race. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 219 
 
 '' First, Was the past a failure ? 
 
 " Second, Is the present a real success ? 
 
 *' Or possibly a more explicit statement of the propo- 
 sitions would be : How far was the past a failure ? 
 How much does the present fail of success ? As the 
 past is not ours to manipulate or improve, and we can 
 only draw lessons fi'om it, I shall dismiss this branch 
 of the subject with brief remarks. 
 
 " No man who reads history aright will claim that 
 the past was a failure. In man}^ respects it was a 
 magnificent success. Confining attention to our own 
 race of people, it brought them from the debasement 
 of idol- worshipers and cannibalism to the highest j^oint 
 of civilization and Christianity, yet attained by men. 
 Indeed, there is nothing we enjoy now worthy of us 
 that we are not indel)ted to our fathers and mothers 
 for. To call the brilliant achievements of the nineteen 
 hundred years of progress a failure is to trifle with facts. 
 And when nearly all this wonderful development was 
 made in the three centuries preceding our own, includ- 
 ing its beginning, the admiration of our predecessors 
 becomes the greater. I am proud of my ancestry. I 
 glory in their matchless conquests in all directions, 
 which lift men up into higher and nobler spheres of 
 thought, action, life, and morals. From serfs and 
 slaves they became men — men, too, crowned as kings 
 and queens who took their destiny into their own hands, 
 bade adieu to old forms and tyrannies, and opened the 
 way for the fall and final triumph of that ideal perfec- 
 tion of human desire, 'Liberty, equality, fraternity.' 
 On the side of morality they arose from abject and 
 besotted barbarism to the grandest type of Christian 
 excellence yet developed by mankind. 
 
 " These results were not achieved by the present gen- 
 
220 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 eration or its immediate predecessor. They came to us 
 
 as a heritage. From that past so often derided came 
 all our best gifts and loftiest aspirations. I proclaim 
 it here and now, that we do not possess a single blessing 
 of real value and worthy to be perpetuated for which 
 "w^e are not indebted to the past. We liave originated 
 nothing new that tends to the elevation of our race. 
 I am j)roud of our sires. I thank God it is their blood 
 that courses in my veins and pulsates my heart. All 
 honor to the fathers and mothers of the centuries of 
 progress which illumine the past and gild the futiu'c 
 with the promise of coming grandeur and glory ! 
 
 "What of the present? 'Watchmen, what of the 
 night ? ' Is it still night ? Or is this the day, the dawn 
 of the millennial reign of 'peace on earth, good- will 
 toward men ' ? Let us cai'ef ully examine the gi'ound 
 u})on which we stand. What is that ground! What 
 do we really possess ? What have we gained f Stripped 
 of all glamour and tinsel, we have just three things 
 secured to us as the whole of our political heritage. 
 They are these: food^ cloth nig, and houses. N'othing 
 else. It is indeed cheering to contemplate the fact that 
 no one is naked or hungry or shelterless, except by rea- 
 son of crime. So far as the government is concerned, 
 these are suppUed. It is a pleasing and blessed thought 
 that actual physical want is banished from the land, so 
 far as it is possible for a paternal government to do 
 this. That there is terrible want, suffering, and distress 
 all over the country, and especially in the cities, is not 
 the fault of the government but the result of indi\ddual 
 depravity, which has not been cured or even weakened 
 by our system. No one should lightly esteem these 
 benefits and privileges. But at what price have we 
 secured them ? Have they cost too much f If we have 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 221 
 
 paid too much for them, vahiable as they are, we lose 
 by the exchange. Let us inquire into tlie matter. Have 
 we * paid too dear for our whistle ' 1 We have bartered 
 for these things : 
 
 "1. All manly independence. 
 
 "2. All real control of ourselves until forty-five years 
 of age. 
 
 " 3. We have become slaves. 
 
 '' Are you startled ? Listen ! Can you dispose of 
 yourselves, your time, laljor, anything, except as the 
 government directs ? Can you secure a morsel of food, 
 a scrap of clothing, or a house to shelter you except as 
 you get them from the government ? Not unless you 
 steal them. 
 
 " Then you are not your own. What you eat, wear, 
 and use are not yours. Your children are not yours. 
 They with you belong to the government. In a word, 
 our boasted civilization is simply a vast system of liunum 
 slavery. It has been compared to the discipline of an 
 army. The comparison is apt. No bondage is more 
 cruel, no slavery more abject, than that of a soldier in 
 an army. He is bound to obey orders even unto death. 
 And in time of war disobedience is death. He has no 
 choice, there is no escape. He is bound by his oath, and 
 the discipline of the service, to obey and not question. 
 Are we not similarly situated and bound ? 
 
 '' It matters not that the fetters have thus far been 
 silken cords, and so soft we have scarcely felt them. 
 When the iron fi'ets us, as it wiU, and gaUs and chafes, 
 we shall realize our condition as we never yet have done. 
 
 "Wliat else have we lost? All the advantages of 
 emulation, skill, personal enterprise, incentives to action 
 in all du'ections, including invention and authorship. 
 Who can estimate this loss? Wlio can measure the 
 
222 LOOKING ^VITHIN. 
 
 price we have paid for our present position, not of at- 
 tainment but of sacrifice ? 
 
 •'Our machinery remains unimproved; we have it 
 just as we received it from our predecessors. Not a 
 new idea in manufacture — the same processes as ob- 
 tained two generations ago. No improvement in agri- 
 (jultm-e, in mining, in anytliing. No advance in educa- 
 tion. Ambition to excel in virtue or attainments, dead. 
 Incentive to activity, l)anished. Hope ak)ng all lines of 
 achievement, blotted out. Have we not paid a fearful 
 price for om* meager possessions '? 
 
 '' But there is another feature of the situation to which 
 I now call attention. I have before me advance proof- 
 sheets of the census of the year 2000, fm-nished by a 
 friend in Washington at my request. They are the 
 very first issued. The facts they reveal are alarming 
 and portentous in the highest degree. I was not pre- 
 pared for them ; neither are you. We have been sit- 
 ting at our ease, certain that a beneficent government 
 would supply all om* needs ; that its resom'ces were in- 
 exliaustible. No danger of want could ever overtake 
 us ; our surplus was supposed to be of such vast mag- 
 nitude as to place all contingencies out of the question. 
 Like you, I have been congratulating myself that what- 
 ever else might haj)pen, our supply of provisions was 
 unfailing as the sunshine and the seasons. This illu- 
 sion is dispelled by the cold facts. We are here in- 
 formed that the surplus of all kinds of grain is nearly 
 exhausted. One more year of the same policy will 
 utterly consume all that remains. A radical change is 
 imperatively demanded. These official statements ^vill 
 startle and shock the whole country. 
 
 '^ What is the cause of this state of affairs ? We have 
 the answer here. For ten years and more the drift of 
 
LOOiaNG WITHIN. 223 
 
 population has all been to the towns and cities, where 
 the greatest ease and least labor and privation are 
 secured. Dimng the decade the whole population has 
 increased thirty per cent. All this increase has been in 
 the towns and cities. Farmers remain the same in 
 number as in 1990. Then the rural and municipal 
 populations were nearly equal. The thirty-per-cent. 
 increase is therefore all in the latter class, which makes 
 then' increase sixty per cent, as against zero for pro- 
 ductive farm labor. The outcome of such a pohcy is 
 plain. It can only be disaster and ruin. 
 
 " There is but one remedy — heroic treatment. Gov- 
 ernment must exercise its reserved authority, and oi'der 
 every man to his field of labor. Choice of occupation 
 on the part of the individual has brought us to the 
 verge of destruction. We ought to have foreseen this, 
 but did not. The number of miners has fallen off one 
 third ; of fishermen, more than one half. 
 
 " The denizens of the cities and towns must be com- 
 pelled to go to the mines and on the farms, and pension- 
 ers nuist occupy the places made vacant by their removal. 
 The Executive Council has already prepared the decree, 
 which will be promulgated within the next ten days. 
 
 " The supply of coal is exhausted. There is not 
 enough on hand to meet the demands for sixty days. 
 Every miner will be put to work at once in the coal 
 mines. The winter's needs are to be provided. This 
 can only be done by the most active energy. Need I 
 dwell longer on this picture ? While we have been 
 sleeping in fancied security, not once dreaming of the 
 possibility of want or disaster, the foundations have 
 been almost removed from under us. We look witli 
 trembling di'cad at the near approach of privation and 
 want. What a narrow escape ! 
 
224 LOOKINU WITIUN. 
 
 " And yet what else could we exj)ect ? Let us look 
 tlie situation squiire in the fiiee. With no iueentive to 
 l)roduce sufficiency of supplies, how can we expect 
 propel* production ? With idlers servinj^ <>iily as con- 
 sumers, swarming to the cities to secure ease and light 
 employment, how could we presume that the exposed 
 toiler on the soil would feel like pushing his work ? 
 He gets nothing extra for extra effoi-t. He receives no 
 more for his hard work than the idler in city or country, 
 Wliy should he expend his energies and endanger his 
 health ))y exposure to feed the undeserving/ How 
 many of you, my heai'ers, would exercise all the powers 
 of mind and body when no possible personal benefit 
 can be received for twenty-foiu' years of such toil and 
 exposui'e ? — twenty-four years, too, of the very strength 
 of your nuinliood, the life-period of flower aiul fruit ! 
 
 " Suppose I make this matter plain as an object-lesson 
 in few words. The man who does honest and faithful 
 labor gets no more for it than he who shirks and idles 
 away his time. 
 
 " The man who invents any improvement in machinery 
 or develops any new processes spends his o\^^l time and 
 s(,'rip and gets no benefits for the same not common to 
 all the people. 
 
 "The author who ^vl•ites a book gets nothing for it. 
 He does not even own the book. 
 
 " In all these cases, wliicli can be indefinitely nuilti- 
 plied, the government owns the man, his time, and all 
 he produces, invents, or "writes. 
 
 " It must be so under oui- system. If government 
 should encourage inventions or authorship, one half the 
 population would prefer these avenues of employment, 
 to those of manuid labor. 
 
 " Again I ask, have we not paid too costly a price 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 22o 
 
 for wliat we liave received 1 Who can measure the hiss 
 we have sustained by reason of these hindrances to 
 procuress, to inipi'ovement, and authorship ? How much 
 farther advanced wonhl we have been had genius been 
 encoiu-aged and talent rejiaid ? Have we properly es- 
 timated these things? 
 
 " It is said our system excludes bribery lieeansc there 
 is no wealth to offer, and no poverty to tempt or to ac- 
 cept a l:)ril)e. But there is strife to secure the same 
 ends as briber^" did in other times. Men and women 
 are as anxious to secure places of power or popularity 
 as they ever were, and are as unscrupulous of the 
 means as at any other period of history. Open your 
 eyes nnd behold, and you will need no further evidence 
 in this direction. 
 
 " Our government is cooperative on a large scale. 
 But cooperation came to us. Wo did not invent or 
 discover it. Free schools and compulsory education 
 are not ours, but the fathers'. Alas, we have nothing 
 new ! 
 
 "We are told that riches debauched the people of old. 
 As an offset to this, I will say the same of idleness 
 in our day. Nothing is so great a foe to virtue as 
 unoccupied time and talent devoted to wickedness. 
 Then if povei'ty debased, which is by no means a proved 
 proposition, as many of the greatest and best men of 
 all former times were poor, idleness does so in a much 
 larger degree. Idleness, therefore, does more harm 
 than either poverty or wealth. 
 
 " Woman's sphere is greatly lauded in our time. In 
 what manner? I fail to see any marked change. She 
 remains the same as in all ages of high civilization. 
 Her condition was improved a hundredfold more in 
 the ages preceding oiu's than it has been by us. Her 
 
22G ].o()KJX(; wiTiiix. 
 
 crowiiiiifi" gloiy lias always l)cen niotherliood, and al- 
 ways will be. In that glory, and its accompanying re- 
 sp()nsil)ilities, slio is the world's redeemer and ben*^- 
 factor. I think we have done nothing for woman de- 
 manding her thanks. She is the greatest earthly 
 blessing to us of the other sex, and as snch w^e shonld 
 cherish her as our own life. 
 
 " If I have not given onr system credit for all it has 
 done, then it is because it has done something which 
 does not appear. It is true a person may use his 
 or her leisiu'e for personal improvement. But how 
 many do so ? Not one in ten, for the simple reason 
 that no adequate inducement is held out for such use 
 of time. Lack of food and clothing can no longer be 
 pleaded as motives driving women to ruin. That is 
 included in the benefit. Nevertheless many of them 
 go to destruction. 
 
 '' I would gladly present any ameliorating features 
 to our civilization other than named if I knew of their 
 existence. I wish to be faithful in both statement and 
 intention. I w^oidd rejoice w^ith exceeding joy if we 
 were more rapidly hastening the great jubilee of the 
 race than our ancestors. 
 
 " Our system is erected upon a ^vl'ong foundation. 
 Its very conception is erroneous. It appeals to man's 
 lower natiu'e as the basis of his elevation in nobler 
 things. How can spu'itual life be developed from 
 nuiterial soil ? How is it possible for the gratification 
 of merely animal desires to feed the soul ? How is the 
 divinity within us to be nourished by ministering to 
 nothing but the requirements of the body? There are 
 as]tiratious in every individual who is not grossly lieastly 
 which lift him Godward. How shall these be strength- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 227 
 
 ened ? Not by aid of tlio tiling's that ' perish in the 
 using thereof.' Yet this is the mistake we have made. 
 Om- entii-e energies have been dii-ected to the one end, 
 ' Wliat shall we eat, what shall we drink, and where- 
 withal shall we be clothed?' How many degrees is 
 this above the brutes ? Shall we live on in this lower 
 plane ? Shall we bequeath this debasing estate to our 
 children as their heritage f 
 
 " Man is a religious being. He worships. If he does 
 not worship) God he pays his homage to something less. 
 It may be himself. It may be a golden calf. It may 
 be some other object of his devotion. Have we done 
 anything to aid this part of his natiu'e '? Have we pro- 
 vided means for its right development I Neglect, utter 
 neglect, is the verdict A\Titten against us. In a large 
 meashre we have made provision for the physical man ; 
 in no adequate respect for the mental, moral, and 
 spiritual being. AH we have in these directions is the 
 legacy handed down to us from our fathers. It came 
 from that dreadful past we are moved to regard as the 
 sum of all villakiies. 
 
 " If we had succeeded only in destroying selfishness 
 we might boast ; but we have not. It is strong and 
 fierce as ever. Its modes of action have l>een changed 
 in some directions to meet the change of conditions ; 
 but it is the same mighty giant who has stalked abroad 
 in all the ages, ruling with a rod of iron. He sways 
 the hearts of men now with the same heai'tless tyranny 
 that has characterized his action in all the centuries of 
 the past. Hunt Boston from end to end in the broad 
 sunshine of noonday, or with a lighted candle at night, 
 and you will foil to find a human heart where this 
 monster has no habitation. 
 
228 LOOKINCi WITHIN. 
 
 "It is falsely claiinod fov our chilization that ii 
 makes virtue easy. There is no soft and velvet patli 
 along which the untried soul can pick its dainty steps 
 to the high places of virtue and honor. It is the storm- 
 beaten oak that drives its roots deepest in the earth 
 and lifts its branches highest toward heaven. It is not 
 the calm sea but the tempest-tossed ocean that makes 
 a good sailor. It is not removal from the activities of 
 life that builds up a noble character, but the stern battle 
 of life where temptation is resisted and strength of pur- 
 pose and action developed. He is the accomplished sol- 
 dier who lights manfully, not he who lounges in camp. 
 
 '' It is also said that our civilization removes tempta- 
 tion. This is an impossil^Uity. Man is not made for 
 the law, but the law for man. All that we have done 
 is to remove the avenues of temptation in two direc- 
 tions, that of poverty on one side and riches on the 
 other. Temptation is only possible where there is 
 something to respond within the tenipti'd. A tree has 
 life, but it cannot l)e tempted. A beast ov bird cannot 
 be tempted to do wrcmg, l)ecause neither knows what 
 is wrong. As has been said, law has n<^) moral (piality 
 and eau impart no moral strength. All that makes 
 a man good or bad })ro<M'eds from within, not from 
 without. All the avenues of temptation exce})t those 
 named, and these are but pai-tly closed, are still wide 
 open. Satan is not l)ound for a single year, nuich less 
 for a thousand years. 
 
 ''What it has cost us to secure the little we have 
 attained by our l)()asted civilization, I have tried in a. 
 small degree to show you. I may add to what has been 
 said that we have not secured repose by the change. 
 Agitation is rife. We have not secured peaee. Dis- 
 content is widespread. We are on the verge of revolu- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 229 
 
 tion. The demand tliat equality shall be a fact as well 
 as a theory will be jjushed until a change is effected. 
 Some go so far as to require that equality shall extend 
 to jiersonal appearance, dress, education, and all else. 
 Wild as this proposition may appear, and visionary and 
 impossible its attainment, it will be presented, get a 
 hearing, and as experiment and speculation are the 
 characteristics of the day and age, who can predict that 
 it mil not be tried ? 
 
 "■ The e^dls of our system are growing worse. The 
 benefits cannot be improved. The longer we continue 
 on the present footing the worse we shall become. 
 The shadow has gone back on the dial of Ahaz. It 
 cannot be otherwise when industry is compulsory, en- 
 terprise dead, and Progress folds her wings in the 
 shadow of her grief. Worst of all, there is no recu- 
 perative power in our methods, no inherent quality of 
 reformation. The outlook is gloomy indeed. If help 
 comes, it must come from without, not from within, 
 our toi'pid civilization. 
 
 "Wliat are our prospects and the possibilities? 
 Where and what shall our children be a century 
 hence under this regime f Our predecessors made 
 progress; we are retrograding. Shall we go back 
 into barbarism ? Shall v/e not rather halt and take a 
 new start ? Let what little good we have be grafted 
 on to the good of the nineteenth century, removing 
 the defects from both. This will give us the model 
 civilization of the ages. As the chemist of former 
 times excelled the one of our day, as demonstrated in 
 recent well-known eases, so let the best civilization of 
 that century cast out tlie lilots and defects of ours, 
 and gathering all the good and eliminating the e\dl, 
 let us have that righteousness which exalteth a ua- 
 
230 LOOKIXG WITUIN. 
 
 tion, and once more crown tlie man and not the 
 means. 
 
 " These census sheets report more sviieides during 
 tlie hist than in any former decade. At fii"st this sur- 
 prised me. When the physical wants are all supplied 
 without anxiety, why should people desire death ? A 
 little reflection solved the a})part'nt enigma. The needs 
 of the spii'itual and mental natures must be provided 
 or the soul becomes a prey upon itself. Our neglect to 
 furnish incentives and outlets for development on these 
 lines explains the mystery. 
 
 " No system of government or morals, no social re- 
 lations, no scheme for bettering the condition of man- 
 kind, can prosper which is founded upon the presump- 
 tion that man is not selfish. It is impossible. The 
 cornerstone^ is rotten ; it will crumble into dust. Selfish- 
 ness is ingi'ained in man's nature. In its highest de- 
 veloi)ment it is essential to his success in any enterprise. 
 No law or other de\'ice of human invention can remove 
 it; it is a part of the constitution of man. What 
 it needs is proper direction. It is a mighty force. 
 Directed aright, it is one of the world's great instru- 
 mentalities for good ; misdirected, it is evil, only evil, 
 and that continually, Alas, that Ave do not the best we 
 know ! Our consciences continually upT)raid us for not 
 doing better. The one ceaseless effort on the part of 
 those who try to do right, to be virtuous and godlike, is 
 to l-eep from (lohuj wrong. From the better part of his 
 nature no one has any regrets for frying to do right, 
 nor for any effort to keep from doing right. All the 
 battle is in tlie struggle to overcome the natural inclina- 
 tion to do cril. Tliis is tlie conscious experience of every 
 person. It hns nothing to do with dogma. This is the 
 history of each individual and of the race as a whole. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 231 
 
 All efforts, whether in the form of instruction or of 
 laws, should be directed in harmony with this under- 
 lying principle, if good results are to be secui-ed. The 
 stream cannot rise above the fountain-head. We have 
 failed because our endeavors have been projected on 
 the supposition that these great facts do not exist, or 
 that the law of human conduct could be reversed. The 
 error is vital. 
 
 '■'■ The liighest glory of man is that he was created in 
 the image of God. Out of this sublime truth limitless 
 possibilities grow. Before him extends a boundless 
 future whose crowning glory is immortality. Aspira- 
 tion has no limit. Onward, uj)ward he may climb, 
 while 3^et beyond are loftier attainments wliich lift their 
 high summits in the eternal sunlight of God. The 
 divine method is the only one for bettering the condi- 
 tion of the human family. If tliere had i^een a Ijetter 
 one, Infinite Wisdom would have provided it. The 
 fountain of man's natm-e is not material but spiritual. 
 As a son of God the roots of his being center in the 
 Father. AU worthy development must be in harmony 
 with these fundamental truths. On this basis alone 
 can the ' Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of 
 man ' be reahzed. Having disregarded these things, is 
 it any wonder we have failed and now stand on the 
 brink of disaster? 
 
 '' In the attainment of any real or ideal perfection, 
 personal responsibihty cannot be ehminated. Indeed, 
 this is the point on which destiny makes its revolutions 
 in the development of human character. Our economy 
 is defective in so far as it reduces the responsibility of 
 the individual and places it upon the government. 
 The development of the masses along industrial, in- 
 teUeetual, and moral lines, is essential to general pros- 
 
2;j2 looking within. 
 
 prrity. We have neglected to lionor labor, and it lias 
 ■ degenerated into drndgery. Compidsory toil is always 
 performed grndgingly. It is felt to be degi-oding. It 
 ai)peals to no manly instinct. It is reasonal)le, there- 
 fore, that production should diminish. Threatened 
 destitution is the legitimate harvest of such sowing. 
 Hence it is that we see failure written on the pages of 
 our history. We ai'e not at peace with ourselves. We 
 are battling with our environments. As they .struggle 
 beneath their unrecpiiting burdens, you can hear the 
 gi'eat heart-throbs in the bosoms of thinking citizens. 
 Listen ! Do ycm not hear the prophetic nnitterings 
 that tell but too plainl}' that social and political earth- 
 quake and ui^heaval are at hand ? 
 
 " Let us not be alarmed. Wait calmly. God's hand 
 is on the helm. He directs the mighty and minor 
 changes of time. It seems a part of His infinite plan 
 to i)ermit men to 'hew out cistei'us that hold no water,' 
 to devise methods for uplifting the race which have no 
 lifting powei". Man must learn the measure of his 
 ability and the limit of his inability l)efore he can be- 
 come truly wise. As the fullness of time develops, the 
 Hand which alone can lift heavenward will be seen in 
 the hour of need, and wiU come to the rescue in eveiy 
 crisis. Wait patiently. The day of redemption will 
 come. The divine civilization which ennol)les and 
 glorifies men will appear. Wait and work. But work 
 on right hues. I trust we shall become wiser by ex- 
 perience. The errors of the past should be teachers for 
 the future. 
 
 " We have learned some things that (mght to do us 
 good. Among others we may name these : Paternal- 
 ism does not promote industry. It docs not promote 
 morality. It is no aid to intellectual development. Its 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 233 
 
 iuflueiiee is paralyzing- iu all directions. It kills and 
 does not make alive. It blights and never beautifies. 
 It blotches and never adorns. It degrades labor. It 
 debases manhood. It ends progress. It stifles enter- 
 prise. It destroys commerce. It estranges our people 
 and makes aliens of brethren. It breeds discontent. 
 It palsies all it touches. It blots out all enthusiasm. 
 It checks right-directed ambition. It develops a race 
 of drones. It crj'staUizes injustice and inequality. It 
 handicaps genius. It buries talent. It wastes energy. 
 It despoils humanity. It produces no great men. It 
 throttles improvement. Its unemployed time is devoted 
 to evil rather than good. It is the promoter of material 
 death. It is political malaria. 
 
 '^ I pause. The indictment is but half complete, yet 
 is it not enough ? Shall we despair 1 Shall we fold 
 oui' hands and say, ' It is none of my business ; let 
 tilings drift'? No! Before it is too late, before we 
 have degenerated past recovery and become a nation 
 of imljeciles, let us awake, arouse, and better oui' con- 
 dition ! We have lost much. We have also learned 
 valuable lessons of truth. Let us name a few things 
 that we have l:»een taught : that feeding the stomach 
 does not feed the mind ; clothing the body does not 
 robe the soul ; housing the person does not furnish a 
 habitation for the spirit. Man has aspirations whidi 
 were never born of material things. They are the God 
 part of his nature, not of the earth earthy. Why not 
 provide for these? Why minister only to his lower 
 nature! Wliy pamper the animal and neglect the 
 angel in him ? 
 
 " Man is the only being on earth that assimilates 
 thought, intellect, morality, religion. Beasts assimilate 
 food. Are they thereby made wiser or better ? Shall 
 
234 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 man l)e driven down on the low plain of Ijestiality 1 
 Shall om- efforts for his welfare begin and end here? 
 ShaU the divine impress whieh stamps him lord of this 
 lower creation be dimmed or obliterated ? It was not 
 the design of paternalism to do this. But has it not 
 tended largely to tliis end ? With all its good inten- 
 tions, and we concede these, has it not been one of the 
 most signal failures of all timet Failure inheres in it. 
 It touches none of the hidden springs of human action ; 
 it kindles no fires of emulation ; it holds out no induce- 
 ments to excel ; it lifts no standard of high attainment, 
 offers no adequate reward for endeavor. How could it 
 do otherwise than fail ? 
 
 " Out of this death there shall come life. Out of this 
 grave there shall be a resurrection. God is not dead. 
 Man still lives. Ah-eady the touch of the divine finger 
 has (piiekened soid-impulses in ten thousand l)reasts. 
 They have shaken oft' the lethargy of unnatural ease 
 and are girding on the arnun- of manhood. They have 
 enlisted in the war for lii'e. The pui'pose is to raise 
 us all out of this plodding death into the activities of 
 responsil)le existen(;e ; to restore us from ser\itude to 
 lil)erty; to make us nu'u and no longer nuicliines. It 
 will take time to complete the revolution, for it must 
 l)e bloodless. But tlu^ first steps are ali-eady taken ; 
 the rest will follow as (juiekly as possible. As num see 
 tlu^ light they will walk in it. As truth points the way 
 they will follow. The oi)enhig of a new and l)etter day 
 shall speedily dawn upon the desolate places of our land. 
 If these facts have alarmed you, look up and fear not. 
 The hour of deliverance draweth near. The wisdom of 
 God and the uplifting power of human effort divinely 
 directed shall glorify om* race and nation. Be of good 
 cheer." 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 235 
 
 This discourse, listened to by so many thousands, 
 made a profound impression upon all who heard it, 
 whether in city or country. That was its design. Its 
 revelations, so utterly at variance with universal belief, 
 fairly took away the breath of the vast audience. People 
 went home silently from the huslied attention given to 
 the preacher. The gravity of the situation precluded all 
 levity. Men wanted to think ; women were impressed 
 with a sense of impending evil. 
 
 The next day groups of citizens could be seen in all di- 
 rections discussing the situation. Those who were in the 
 city for ease became alarmed. They dreaded the harder 
 lot which they were so soon to realize. They would 
 have rebelled against the order that would send them to 
 the farms and the mines, but being slaves they had no 
 alternative but obedience or open defiance. They dare 
 not do the latter ; the other must be done. But many 
 a dissatisfied head rested upon its pillow that night and 
 for many nights thereafter. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The changes foreshadowed by Dr. Butler came. 
 Farms "vvere divided into parts of ten and twenty acres, 
 and houses were erected on them for the new occupants. 
 The utmost activity jirevailed. Eveiy man was bus}'. 
 It was Like a new world. The limit of service was ex- 
 tended from forty-five to fifty j^ears of age. The pau- 
 pers, as Mr. Acre termed them, were put on the fanns 
 and in the mines. Every coal-miner in the land was 
 set to work in the coal mines. The danger here was 
 so imminent that the utmost energy had to be put forth. 
 
 Such energetic action on the part of the government 
 had never been known, because no such contingency 
 had arisen. It put new hfe into affairs. The acti^'ity 
 was contagious. After the first sullen and reluctant ac- 
 quiescence on the part of the discontented, the people 
 responded with alp.erity to the demands made upon them. 
 It was indeed tlieu' only salvation from impending ruin 
 or suffering. Occupation and motive for action proved 
 a blessing. The erection of so many buildings gave an 
 appearance of thrift which in itseK was exhilai-ating. 
 No such exliil)ition of activity had been seen by tliat 
 generation. The change from previous stagnation to 
 (piickened life was cheering and inspiiing. 
 
 By lu'gent efforts, before winter set in, enough coal 
 was secured and distributed to nu^et the demands of 
 the country. Comfort and business were thus pro\ided 
 for. Pro\isions were carefully handled and l)u.sbanded 
 
 2^0 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 237 
 
 SO that they held out until the next year's crops renewed 
 the supply. Under the new enthusiasm the crops were 
 the most abundant ever placed at the disposal of the 
 government. 
 
 Matters proceeded in this improved manner for a 
 year. The unusual impetus was then over. Gradually 
 things settled down into the old routine. Enforced 
 di"udgery moved sluggishly along in its appointed 
 channels. On the surface was the former appearance 
 of quiet and inertia. But the recent revolution had 
 taught the people a lesson. They felt their power. 
 Beneath the languid exterior there was unrest. Groups 
 of men and women could be seen at almost any hour 
 of day or night not occupied by compulsory work, who 
 were usually in earnest conversation, sometimes demon- 
 strative. As there was no immediate danger to be ap- 
 prehended, this meant discontent. It was the fret under 
 chains ; it was the incipient stages of revolt. How 
 long time it would require to obtain sufficient headway 
 and concentrated action depended upon contingencies. 
 The leaven was at work in the measures of meal, and 
 it was only a question of time when the whole lump 
 would be leavened. As the fetters of governmental 
 slavery now began to bind and chafe, the aspiration 
 for personal independence grew stronger day by day. 
 
 How to attain this desirable end and yet not surrender 
 the one benefit of general distribution by the govern- 
 ment was the vexed question which came up for solu- 
 tion. Various schemes were proposed, some wild, others 
 reasonable, but none that reconciled the two antago- 
 nistic principles or policies. How to be freemen and yet 
 receive the sole benefit of slavery could not be adjusted. 
 The great law of compensation intervened, which could 
 not be abolished nor seriouslv modified. It was but 
 
238 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 another attempt of the ages to attain tlie unattainable 
 — a feat no genius has ever been able to aeeoniplish. 
 
 While this agitation was going on, another feature 
 of affau's developed to coinpUcate matters. The thieves 
 who had been in the cities were now on farms. For a 
 time they conducted themselves properly; but after 
 the novelty of the new life wore off, they returned to 
 their old habits. It was comparatively easy to steal 
 from neighboring fai'nis and Uve high. Grain, vegeta- 
 bles, and poultry were taken by stealth, under cover of 
 darkness. These depredations became so numerous 
 and the aggregate amounts pm-loined so great that the 
 attention of government was called to the subject. A 
 force of detectives was organized, similar to that of the 
 Pinkertons in the pre\'ious century, to protect the honest 
 farmers, and tlirough them the government itself, and 
 to catch and punish the thieves. Hundreds and even 
 thousands were arrested and proved guilty. Prisons 
 had to be built to hold the criminals. They were made 
 to labor, but as then" labor competed with no one it 
 was universally sanctioned. This was an unexpected 
 development of the new civilization on a large scale. 
 There could be no excuse for men stealing whose wants 
 were all supplied ; nevertheless thieves abounded. 
 
 All these things tended to confirm the discontent and 
 augment it. There were two classes of agitators : one 
 desired a retiu'n to the old ways of former times with 
 some amendments, while the other clamored for a more 
 radical measure of reform than had ever yet been de- 
 vised by the fertile or fevered brain of mortals. The 
 dispute became fierce. It had an appearance of the 
 old contest between capital and laboi-. Finnlly a com- 
 promise was effected. The (conservatives woidd wait 
 and permit the radicals to try their scheme ; if it sue- 
 
LOOK[N({ WITHIN. 239 
 
 ceeded, well ; if not, then all were to unite upon the 
 platform of the moderates. 
 
 The scheme of the radicals, to use theii- own languag'e, 
 was that men should be equal in fact as well as in name. 
 Tlie time-honored truths of the old Declaration of In- 
 dependence were to be made a reality in fact as in 
 words, and no longer remain " glittering generalities " 
 without meaning. They would solve for all humanity 
 and for all time the great problem of the centuries : 
 liberty, equality, fraternity. How ? Reader, do not 
 smile as theii* plans unfold. Have not as wild and vis- 
 ionary schemes marked the ages ? Do not their wi'ecks 
 strew the strands of time on every shore ? Is paternal- 
 ism less ridiculous ? 
 
 The great end to be achieved was to make all men of 
 exactly the same size and features, and all women of 
 exactly another size and features. Each man was to 
 be an exact likeness of every other man, each woman 
 of every other woman. To accomplish this, molds 
 were to be prepared, ranging from infancy to manhood 
 and womanhood, precisely alike, each to be an exact 
 fac-simile of all the others. Into these molds all in- 
 fants were to be placed, and through infancy, child- 
 hood, and youth be reared and educated. Fanatical 
 as such a preposterous measure appears, it was pressed 
 on the government and finally adopted. But its ap- 
 plication was limited to the province of Massachusetts. 
 Only those who voluntarily chose to adopt the theory 
 were to be subject to its sway. Those who did not 
 wish to become parties to the measure were pri\'ileged 
 to remove elsewhere. The exodus was great ; but 
 there remained enough in the province, reinforced by 
 large numbers from outside, to try the experiment. 
 
 Molds were at once prepared and approved. Ameri- 
 
240 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 cans were uow to subject their children to the cruel 
 process bodily to which Chinese gii'ls condemn their 
 feet. Men of common sense looked on amazed. The 
 radicals were in high glee. They would teach the 
 world wonderful things. 
 
 I was desirous to see the outcome of this freak. 
 The contingencies of life being uncertain, I felt in- 
 clined to resort to oiu* former method, and take a nap. 
 I mentioned this to Effie, and she fell in with the sug- 
 gestion. We mentioned our purpose to our friends. 
 They tried to dissuade us ; but the departure of all of 
 these under fifty yeai'S of age gave us a good excuse 
 for holding to our plan. Edith then informed Effie 
 that she and jNIi*. West were to be married in a few 
 weeks, and that at any rate we must remain for the 
 wedding. To this we cheerfully assented. 
 
 As an evidence of the change of sentiment which 
 had taken place, not only with himseK but in the 
 entii'e community, Dr. Leete had Dr. Butler, in pref- 
 erence to Mr. Barton, to officiate at the nuptial cere- 
 mony. As the parties to this happy event had become 
 famous, the occasion was one of no little importance. 
 It revived the memory of events heretofore recorded. 
 We enjoyed it thoroughly. This over, adieus were 
 spoken and we departed. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 After settinc: out for home, it was suggested that 
 we take advantage of tlie opportunity, and by making 
 an extensive personal examination of the various prov- 
 inces, satisfy ourselves regarding the true situation of 
 atfairs as to the people themselves, theii* opinions, and 
 the condition of the country. We did so. Much was 
 learned. A few incidents only can be given here. 
 
 In the south, where the larger part of the colored 
 people still remained, there was more sluggishness 
 than elsewhere. Being again reduced to slavery, 
 though of a different kind from the old, the slave 
 . habits returned. There being no motive for improve- 
 ment as formerly, no aspirations to be gratified which 
 appealed to the senses, the incentive of pecuniary gain 
 or of securing personal liberty being removed, there 
 were not even the few exceptional cases of former 
 times when colored men rose above their surround- 
 ings. Men, women, and children would lie around in 
 the sun when it was cool, in the shade when it was 
 hot. They were as indifferent as domestic animals 
 concerning what might befall them on the morrow. 
 To them '' sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof." 
 There were some exceptions ; but very few of them 
 did laborious or earnest work during the hours of 
 labor, and were idle the rest of the time. The Briggs 
 class was numerous ; wasteful and slovenly farming 
 prevailed; cotton was not more than half a crop; 
 
 241 
 
242 LOOKING WlTllIM. 
 
 mueli rico was wnstod in fratlicriii*!;. There were rare 
 evidences of enterprise on the part of wliite or bhiek. 
 
 A few of the more aetive and intelligent citizens 
 were posted on national affairs. The vast majority 
 knew nothing beyond the neighborhood gossip and 
 the more sensational news from elsewhere published 
 in the papers. Sensations were rare for the reason 
 that the general indisposition of the people to exer- 
 tion, reaching all classes, included the crhuinals. Rail- 
 ways were so lazily operated that there was no occa- 
 sion for accidents, and these occuiTed only through 
 carelessness. As few people were traveling, accidents 
 were confined to the destruction of property. It could 
 be set down to the credit of paternalism that crime 
 partook largely of the prevailing apathy, and was in- 
 frequently startling or ingenious, and accidents seldom 
 destroyed life. 
 
 When we reached New Orleans we found the bar- 
 barism of old times still perpetuated in prize-fights 
 and kindred amusements. The fighting, however, was, 
 like everything else, of poor quality and lacking in 
 vim. On the whole, the outlook at the South was less 
 promising than at the North. Large tracts of coun- 
 try, especially along the rivers, once cultivated, were 
 now permitted to go to waste. The levees along the 
 Mississippi were in a state of bad repair, and on the 
 down-grade to demolition. The atmosphere seemed 
 to be laden with di-owsiness and the people afflicted 
 with lassitude. 
 
 In conversation with some gentlemen who appeared 
 to be above the average in intelligence, the new experi- 
 ment on trial in Massachusetts was mentioned. They 
 had not heard of it, and expressed surprise. One of 
 the nimiber remarked : 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 243 
 
 " Massachusetts was always a hot-bed of fanaticism 
 and new-fangled hol)bies. More liumbngs were started 
 there and in the rest of New England, than in all the 
 country besides." 
 
 The old Southern prejudice against the Yankees had 
 not died out. Tradition was stronger than knowledge 
 with them. 
 
 In the West there was more life than at the South. 
 Some of the olden energy siu'vived. There was also a 
 disposition to be cranky on the part of the descend- 
 ants of the promoters of the wild schemes of the nine- 
 teenth century. Like the Yankees, they were ever on 
 the hunt for some new thing. There being no room 
 or place for the visionary methods, they died in the 
 inception. 
 
 Our extensive observations confii'med what we al- 
 ready either knew or believed. There was no life, en- 
 ergy, activity anywhere, to speak of. Improvements 
 of any character were very rare. The general aspect 
 reminded one of the decrepitude of age. Apathy was 
 visible in every department of industry. Enterprise 
 or thrift in any direction was exceptional. Indolence 
 was common — almost universal. There was no comity 
 of feeling between sections of the country. The West 
 was alien to the East, the East to the West, and so of 
 North and South. No commercial or social ties existed 
 worthy of the name. National unity was almost an 
 unknown thing; at best it was but a rope of sand 
 ready to separate at any time. 
 
 On the surface aU appeared serene and quiet — the 
 quiet of death. Beneath was unrest. Men of culture 
 and thought felt the incubus of paternalism. It was 
 to them a wall of fate shutting out all advancement 
 or hope of bettering the condition of mankind. It 
 
244 LOOKlKG WITHIN. 
 
 was the octopus whose teiitaek's grasped and stran- 
 gled the* life out of human endeavor, leaving enter- 
 prise and progress dead at its feet. Sliackling per- 
 sonal endeavor, it slew ambition and crushed hope. 
 Ministering to the animal only, it left the higher man 
 to perish by the wayside. 
 
 The men of revolutionary tendencies were resolute. 
 They met often in consultation. But for the " Massa- 
 chusetts folly," as they termed it, they would i)ush and 
 precipitate matters. As it was they must wait. But 
 they would be ready when the time came. They were 
 active as well as determined. A peacefid change was 
 theii* aim. 
 
 We had no desire to be smothered by the miasma 
 of paternalism nor to be drawn into the conflict for a 
 new ci\'ilization. It was delightfid to find ourselves 
 once more at home in our quiet retreat. We enjoyed 
 the sweet repose for a few weeks, and then retu'ed for 
 a prolonged rest. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 We awoke refreshed and invigorated. After a few 
 days of home enjoyment, we again visited the regions 
 we had previously explored. Everything looked old 
 and time-worn ; the same general appearance in all 
 respects, except that old age was apparent. Decrepi- 
 tude was the principal change. This met the gaze at 
 every turn. The scenes, like approaching desolation 
 repeating itself, were too depressing to retain us. We 
 left them all behind and went to Boston. 
 
 Many of our former friends were absent. Some had 
 *^ passed on over the river " ; others removed from 
 Massachusetts when the " chimera of equality usurped 
 the place of common sense," as they expressed it. Mr. 
 Hume, full of years and honors, voluntarily remained 
 at his post. Dr. Butler, whose locks bespoke a ripened 
 life, was still the patriarch of his parish, loved of aU. 
 Mr. Barton was on a prolonged absence, visiting in 
 New York. Dr. Leete, if still alive, was living in Con- 
 necticut with his daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Acre resided 
 in the city, vigorous in old age and alive to every 
 movement on the part of the people looking toward 
 improvement. From all who remained we met a 
 pleasing welcome. They were all astonished to find 
 us no older than when we parted from them a quarter 
 of a century before, while Time had left his touches 
 upon all of them. 
 
 Boston was remarkably quiet. What could mean 
 245 
 
246 LOOIONG WITHIN. 
 
 this unusual stillness? I was anxious to learn the 
 outcome of the fad to secure equality. I knew no 
 man who could give me the desired information more 
 readily, intelligently, and fully than Mr. Hume. I 
 could see nothing of the equalized humanity on the 
 streets. I sought Mr, Hume and made known my 
 desire. 
 
 " How fares the experiment of making ai-tificial men 
 and women ? " I inquired. He replied : 
 
 " Outwardly, in the physical aspects, as finally per- 
 fected, the experiment has proved successful beyond 
 any belief of its possibility. We have a race of men 
 and w^omen who are exact fac-simUes one of another. 
 One gives you a transcript of all. Exactly alike in 
 feature, form, size, contour, expresses the simple truth." 
 
 "How can this be? Surely there must be differ- 
 ences in the color of the hair, the eyes, and shades of 
 complexion," I said. 
 
 "At fii'st there were differences so decided that the 
 whole scheme was about to break down on incipient 
 trial. But its friends came to the rescue vntli a zeal, 
 faith, and earnestness worthy of any cause. The sys- 
 tem of graduated molds had seciu'ed perfect equality 
 in size and shape — a really wonderful and surprising 
 result. How to secure equally satisfactory effects in 
 color then became the problem of difficult solution. 
 Proper rewards brought the chemists to the front. 
 Harmless dyes or coloring fluids were produced, which 
 rendered hair, eyes, and complexion of precisely the 
 same shades of color in each individual. Each person 
 in the experiment was required to use these prepara- 
 tions every day, so as to insure uniformity and suc- 
 cess. Then came a difficidty on intellectual lines. 
 Some men and women were endowed with mental fac- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN, 247 
 
 ulties superior to tlie rest. The variation was exten- 
 sive and universal. To overcome this inequality or- 
 ders were issued that only such subjects as should be 
 selected and assigned each morning by the proper offi- 
 cers should be discussed during the day. The rules 
 were strict, the hues of discussion closely drawn, and 
 a fine imposed for the violation of any rule, and fine 
 and punishment for a second or subsequent violation. 
 This appeared to work well on the start. The advo- 
 cates of the measure were in high feather. It was the 
 first and only experiment in the history of man where 
 equality for all had been secm-ed fully and fairly. 
 Envy, jealousy, mahce, hatred, partiality, all inequality 
 and cause for ill-feeling and jars in society, were re- 
 moved, banished forever from the home, the commu- 
 nity, and the world. 
 
 '^ It was amusing at each stage of the advancing ex- 
 periment to witness the old rivah-ies creeping out. 
 Women were jealous of those who had faces more 
 expressive or of more delicate texture than theii* own. 
 Men were envious of those who manifested more intel- 
 lectual power than themselves. When the dead-level 
 was reached the enthusiasts cried, ' Eureka ! ' It had 
 all the appearance of a complete victory for an abstract 
 and absurd theory. Those who had been skeptical, or 
 who had prophesied failm-e, were silenced for a brief 
 time. Then came the denouement. 
 
 "Wives did not know tlieii* husbands. Husbands 
 could not tell then' own wives from those of their 
 neighbors. Childi-en could not distinguish their par- 
 ents. As all residences are alike and the street num- 
 bers have been obliterated from houses by time, the 
 confusion was rendered still more confounded. You 
 can readily conceive what a chaos there was in the 
 
248 LOOKING WITIIIN. 
 
 social and domestic world. The only way Inisband and 
 wife, parents and cliildren, could teU each other in a 
 crowd or company was by holding fast one to the 
 other. If once separated it was impossible to i-ecog- 
 nize each other from the rest of mankind. I should 
 have told you that in additicm to other things tlie 
 voices were trained to the same tones and modes of 
 expression. The dress of all was precisely alike. Per- 
 fect likeness was the supreme aim and end of the ex- 
 periment, without which it must fail. These outward 
 requisites were attained. Appearance, speech, man- 
 ners, di-ess alike. How many exchanges of husbands 
 and wives were made, w\\\ probably never be known. 
 If such exchange should be ascertained, shame and 
 self-respect would lead to hiding the fact. Children as 
 well as parents became mixed. They were constantly 
 puzzled to tell their parents when not in their molds. 
 The family entanglements of those daj^s will never be 
 imi'aveled, I presume. 
 
 " The same conditions rendered it impossible to de- 
 tect thieves or other criminals and l)ring them to jus- 
 tice. Unless caught in the act and held fast until tried 
 there was no such thing as proving identity. It proved 
 to be the 'rogues' paradise.' All kinds of misdeeds 
 were perpetrated with reckless boldness. The novehst 
 has abundant material here for any kind of probable 
 or improbable stor}^ Property was insecure. Women 
 did not dare walk the streets or the country roads un- 
 protected. In a word, all the evil passions were let 
 loose and had almost unrestrained license to prey upon 
 society. It was astonishing to see how wicked people 
 could be, when shielded from the probable possibility 
 of detection. 
 
 '' The experiment in the end proved the most dismal 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 249 
 
 failure ever recorded. The advocates of this phase of 
 the perfection of 'hberty, equality, fraternity,' were 
 the first to demand its abrogation in all that can be 
 changed. The orders for annulling the whole thing 
 arrived from Washington three days ago. You are a 
 little too late to see the thing in its perfection. All 
 who can are remaining concealed until the colors are 
 washed or faded out, so that by shades of skin, hair, 
 and eyes one can be told from another. We did not 
 all see the ' end from the beginning.' There were reve- 
 lations for all, as the experiment was unfolded before 
 us, measure by measure. We have probably all learned 
 something, and will be ' wiser for our folly.' " 
 
 " The one thing that seems most forcible to me," I 
 said, " is the folly of this or any other attempt to im- 
 prove upon nature's ordinances. The highest achieve- 
 ment possible in this direction is to conform most 
 closely to the irrepealable laws that govern us, which 
 we cannot modify, though we may infringe upon to 
 om' hurt." 
 
 '' That leads me to say," rejoined Mr. Hume, " that 
 our present social and political structure is so entirely 
 artificial and unnatural that it must break down of its 
 own imperfection. Indeed, it is already breaking up 
 and wiU soon be abandoned. Another generation, if 
 not another decade, would plunge the nation into cha- 
 otic ruin." 
 
 " Is it as bad as that ? " I said. 
 
 '' Can you not see ? Is not decadence written on all 
 you behold ? Can you find a man who has any inter- 
 est or ambition in the work he is doing? I think you 
 used to have a saying like this, ' Uncle Sam is rich 
 enough to give us all a farm.' Well, that is the feel- 
 ing now. The government is rich enough to keep all 
 
2o0 LOOKING TV^THIN. 
 
 the people in idleness, is the feeling of the indolent. 
 Those who "woiild be industrious have no heart to 
 work, because the idlers and vagabonds, who are on the 
 increase, receive as much benefit from theii* industry 
 as they do themselves. It is the same thing Mr. Acre 
 complained of twenty-five years ago, but growing con- 
 stantly worse. 
 
 "^ Our alienation has l)ecome greater, despite the ef- 
 forts of patriots and philanthropists to preserve unity 
 and fellowship. We are as much strangers to each 
 other as though li\'ing under foreign governments. 
 Indeed, the affinity and intercom'se between our 
 fathers and people of Em-ope were vastly gi'eater than 
 exist now between the inhabitants of the different 
 provinces of this country. The people of Maine have 
 no more interests in common with those of Florida 
 than with those of China. The same is true of New 
 York and California, or any other portion of the 
 nation. People a hundi-ed miles apart know nothing 
 of each other. Marriages are confined to the localities 
 where the parties reside. Intermarriage between per- 
 sons of different provinces is almost unknown. Ours 
 is a system of isolation. It can be nothing else for the 
 reason that it furnishes no means, provides no facili- 
 ties, and presents no inducements for intercom-se 
 among the people. The motive being absent, the de- 
 sii-e vanishes or becomes a mere sentiment without 
 vitality. With nothing to bind us together, disinte- 
 gi-ation is imminent. AU that is needed to separate 
 and distract us is a leader, or a few leaders, to set 
 the machineiy in motion. The situation is critical. 
 Prompt action of a very radical character is our only 
 salvation." 
 
 " I am fully aware of the truth of much that you 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 251 
 
 say, but was not prepared for so startling a conclu- 
 sion. Is the crisis so threatening?" I said. 
 
 '' It is. I have exaggerated nothing. Indeed, exag- 
 geration is impossible. We are on the brink of ruin 
 or revolution. Fortunately, the government is no^v 
 composed of able and patriotic men — the best we have 
 had under paternalism. They enjoy the confidence of 
 the people. They understand the situation. They have 
 the nerve and the patriotism to act. Our infant re- 
 public had its Washington ; later, the nation had its 
 Lincoln : these with then- compeers gave us and saved 
 us our country. Our present rulers are men of simi- 
 lar qualities. The eyes of the people are looking to 
 them ; the patriots of the land are with them. To- 
 morrow is Sunday. Dr. Butler will give one of his 
 timely and instructive discourses, which will enlighten 
 the populace. Let us adjourn and listen to him." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The following day Effie and I and a few other 
 friends were assembled in Mr. Hume's offiee to listen 
 to Dr. Butler. Expectation was on tiptoe. All tlie 
 people of Boston and great numbers from the adja- 
 cent country were his auditors. The church building 
 was overcrowded. Every telephone in the city was 
 called into use. The doctor had become almost the 
 prophet of the province. His remarkable age and 
 patriarchal appearance gave additional weight to his 
 words. Verging on fourscore years, he yet retained 
 all his mental vigor, simplicity, and lovable character- 
 istics. To men a philosopher, to the truth-seeker a 
 teacher, to childhood a loWng and sympathetic friend 
 and counselor, to all as one instructed in the oracles 
 of God and the needs of men, he was reverenced and 
 beloved by the nuisses, honored and esteemed by the 
 thoughtful, while some regarded him as a ''teacher 
 come from God '' and endowed with wisdom suited to 
 his high commission. But he was only a wise man, 
 full of love for his kind, gentle, affable, full of simplic- 
 ity and humility. He was never too heavenly to for- 
 get the earthly needs of his hearers or his fellow-men. 
 He did not hide away in abstractions, nor live in 
 fancy-painted Edens, nor deal in high-sounding phrases 
 that neither himself nor his auditors could understand 
 and which have no itractical meaning. He ke[)t his 
 heart close by and in unison with the great heart- 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 253 
 
 beats of humanity, so as to know and feel their needs. 
 He prepared himself to "feed the flock" with real 
 food, not with the husks of either men-made creeds or 
 vain philosophy. 
 
 As this was one of the rare occasions when he car- 
 ried secular aifaii's prominently into his pulpit as an 
 understood part and featui-e. of his theme, and as a 
 means of instruction to those who Hstened, we "vvill 
 permit him to speak for himself to the people whom 
 he loved, and for whose benefit he had prepared the 
 discourse of the occasion. 
 
 DR. butler's discourse. 
 
 "Twenty-five years ago I stood in this place and 
 proclaimed a coming revolution. That revolution came, 
 as we all know. It was only the prelude to another, 
 more radical and far-reaeliiug. That other is at the 
 door. But for the late experiment to secure absolute 
 equahty among men and women, from which so much 
 was expected only to bring disappointment, the change 
 would have occurred ere this. I trust all these experi- 
 ments make us wiser and better, however unfortunate 
 they may be. This quarter of a centmy, how swiftly 
 it has sped away ! How it has whitened the locks of 
 so many of my hearers ! The childi'cn of that day the 
 fathers and mothers of this ! Have we gi'own better 
 with age ? Have we gathered the honey of knowledge 
 and the honeycomb of wisdom from these fleeting 
 years as they have tripped so lightly past us ? 
 
 " My text to-day is found in the thirtieth verse of 
 the seventeenth chapter of Acts : ' And the times of 
 this ignorance God wdnked at ; but now commandeth 
 all men everywhere to repent.' 
 
254 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 " Paul was talking to the pliilosopliers and wise men 
 of Greece, assembled ou Mars Hill at Athens, when he 
 uttered these words. I shall not attempt a theological 
 discussion of theu* import. The good sense of my 
 auditoi's will readily perceive their application to the 
 present time. 
 
 "I shall not now repeat the sad story of the failure 
 of our civilization. The mistakes we have made are 
 too palpable ; oui- failm-e is wi-itten on every part and 
 parcel of the entu-e land. If it were inscribed in let- 
 ters of light and fii'e on the blue firmament above us, 
 it could not be more distinctly legible. Alas, that it 
 is written upon hmuan hearts as well ! Sadder stOl 
 that human souls have been cramped, mutual sym- 
 pathies obhterated, unity of interest destroyed, and 
 the ties of brotherly love rent asunder ! 
 
 " The last experiment was only a logical culmination 
 of what had preceded it. The soil had been prepared 
 for it; onlj^ the seed needed to be x>lanted. The ante- 
 cedent had gone before, not as John the Baptist to 
 prepare a successful way, but as Theudas to lead the 
 people astray. Its confessed failm-e by its particular 
 friends is significant. It is but the handwriting ou the 
 waU which proclaims in trumpet tones the utter col- 
 lapse of all unnatm'al and piu'ely artificial expedients 
 for bettering the condition of men. How much better 
 or worse was this last effort to perfect men l^y molds 
 than its antecedent and contemporary plan of making 
 him noble and good, happy and contented, by material 
 appliances ? Wliy does not the shape of his body have as 
 much influence on his mind and soid, as the shape and 
 measure of the food he eats and the clothes he wears ? 
 If fitting hmi to the grooves of a mechanical mode of 
 living can produce magiiificeut results, why not fitthig 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 255 
 
 him to artificial molds have the same effect I We des- 
 ignate one of these experiments as chimerical and vis- 
 ionary beyond reason. Why nut the other also? If 
 equality of occupation will improve and elevate us, 
 why not equality of person ? If no virtue, no reward 
 attaches to ability of mind or skill in labor ; if we run 
 all men in one set of common gi'ooves, so much to do 
 and so much to receive, whether they are capable of 
 gi'eater or less achievements ; in a word, if labor and 
 recompense are dealt out to all in one measure, and all 
 qualifications to do better or worse are either ignored 
 or cramped down into this one common adjustment, 
 why not make men ahke in jDhysical appearance, men- 
 tal pui'suits, and aU that pertains to them ? Where is 
 the foUy if the artificial in one case does not apply 
 with equal force in the other 1 I leave these pertinent 
 questions for philosophers to dispose of and proceed 
 to discuss matters practically before us. 
 
 "Our system of distribution is not equal. It re- 
 quires that the man of great mental and physical 
 powers shall be requii-ed to do no more than he of lim- 
 ited ability. If in any case the strong person does 
 more than the weak one, it is because he is better than 
 the system. He is under no obligation to do more, 
 and receives no additional compensation if he actually 
 does more. On the theory that remuneration and labor 
 should be equal this is correct. No less, no more to eacli 
 individu^. How unreasonable is this on the broad 
 basis of endowment and responsibility Ijeing coexten- 
 sive ! Our standard of equivalents is just on the Ijasis 
 of our unnatural adjustment, for if I only do so much 
 I should only receive so much, and vice versd. But to 
 ignore thy natural capal)ilities of men in these as in all 
 other particulars is radically wrong in itself. 
 
256 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 ^'The wdsest of all teachers knew better tluin this. 
 He imderstood the true relationship existing between 
 endowment and responsibility. No two men are ex- 
 actly alike. To lengthen one by \'iolence and shorten 
 the other l^y amputation to fit the one Procrustean 
 bed is the policy we have been pursuing, while that of 
 the Master was to give and require five, two, and one 
 talents of His stewards, to each man and from each 
 man according to his several ability. But we say to 
 the man with five talents, 'One talent is all that is 
 requii-ed of you,' and the same demand is made upon 
 the man with one talent ! Is it any wonder we have 
 failed, and that the failure is unto death ? 
 
 '' Pei'sonal responsiljility to the full measure of each 
 individual's abilities and opportunities is essential to 
 the welfare of any people ; without it there can be no 
 robust manhood. Our fatal mistake lias been that 
 this gi'eat law of development has been ignored. Gov- 
 ernment has usurped and exercised the prerogatives of 
 the man. It cannot perform liis duties. It deprives 
 liim of the [)rivilege of performing them, and so they 
 are unperformed, and the loss is personal and national. 
 Look at results. 
 
 " A quarter of a centiuy ago Boston was beautifid. 
 Her buildings were painted, decorated, embellished ; 
 to-day they are dingy, dust-covered, time-worn, and un- 
 attractive. Then her sti-eets were covered with awn- 
 ings from end to end, to shield from rain, snow, and 
 heat; now these awnings are either gone entu-ely or 
 are hanging in tatters. This city is a typical emblem 
 of the ccmntiy from center to periphery. It is in a con- 
 dition of decay and decrepitude morally and financially. 
 Could we reasonably expect any other result? Is it 
 possible for such causes to produce a different effect ? 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 257 
 
 "As has been already said, no sturdy morality can 
 exist where personal responsibility is eliminated. As 
 a necessary correlative, the less responsil)ility the less 
 moral stamina. We have removed or greatly lessened 
 responsibility by making servants of the people. They 
 are not required to do anything but work. They have 
 only to perform their allotted tasks. With that, ac- 
 countability commences and ends. Even the sick have 
 nurses provided to care for them. The helpful tonic 
 of fraternal sympathy is not provided for. If the af- 
 flicted receive it, they get that much more than our 
 system provides for them. Like machines, we move 
 as we are directed. Development into stalwart man- 
 hood and womanhood under such conditions is a man- 
 ifest impossibility. A few individuals may rise above 
 these disabilities ; the masses, a whole people, never. 
 
 "While the moral and intellectual powers are 
 dwarfed by our methods, the passions, the merely ani- 
 mal nature, develop by the simple process of growth. 
 They require no stimulants. They need checks. With 
 enervated morals and strongly developed passions, 
 what but misfortune can be our deplorable condition ? 
 No object-lesson is required to tell the sad story. But 
 for the almost universal lack of energy, which em- 
 braces all the faculties of mind and body, the situation 
 would be desperate. 
 
 " As it is, these insidious evils have l)een undermin- 
 ing the home life and the social fabric. While we have 
 slept, an enemy hath sown tares among om- wheat. 
 Boston would be startled if her people but realized 
 their danger. Thousands are only asleep as yet, but 
 they sleep on the brink of a precipice. In the lan- 
 guage of the prophet, I would caU upon all to 'Awake, 
 awake! Put on thy strength, O Zion ! Put on thy 
 
258 L0OKJ\(i WITHIN'. 
 
 Iteaiitiful cfavments, O Jcnistilom ! No more let the 
 uueircuincised ;ind the uneleuii eoiiie unto tlice ! Loose 
 thyself from the bands of thy neck, O eaptive daughter 
 of Ziou ! Ye have sold yourselves for naught, and ye 
 shall be redeemed without money.' Yea, friends, it is 
 high time to awake out of sleep. Sleep is not rest. It 
 is death ! The enemy is at the door. Bolt and bar 
 against his entrance. If ah-eady within the saered 
 precincts, expel Mm promptly. 
 
 ''And what of the religious aspects of the times? 
 If possiljle, worse than the others. The fact that each 
 person receives only enough from the government foi- 
 a comfortable support leaves nothing that is not taken 
 from such support for benevolent or religious jmr- 
 poses. No one can now ' la}^ by as the Lord prospers 
 him' for His treasury. The government prospers the 
 people, not the Lord. And that accounts for the kind 
 of prosperity — or lack of it — we have. Persons can 
 only lay l)y from the government's stipend. The minis- 
 ter receives his support from the government the same 
 as other citizens, not because he is a minister, but be- 
 cause he is a man. This may be all right. I do not 
 complain of it. But I do complain of that paternalism 
 which places all men on the same level, whether they 
 have one talent or five talents. Such a system ignores 
 ability, intelligence, integrity. Skill counts for noth- 
 ing. Honesty, talent, genius, manhood, count for noth- 
 ing. Ignorance, laziness, indolence, slothfulness, are 
 equally paid and honored with industry, energy, thrift, 
 and economy. LTnder such a regime righteousness drops 
 out. 
 
 "The churches are all crippled in their work at 
 home. Missionary work is practically abandoned in 
 foreign fields. All new church edifices are built by 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 2o9 
 
 the government, which is not interested in this work. 
 Then it is next to impossible for the government to 
 act in this fiehl withont causing jealousy between de- 
 nominations. Each sect fears some other will get an 
 advantage. This is all wi-ong, but it is an infirmity of 
 human nature that needs to be eradicated. It requires 
 but a glance at the situation to perceive that it is un- 
 fortunate indeed. The dead blight of paternalism rests 
 upon everything we touch., 
 
 " As of old, church and state are separate. Govern- 
 ment dare not act with energy in anything pertaining 
 to church work without exciting general distrust. 
 Under such conditions progress is im230ssible. The 
 chiu'ches are handicapped and so is the government. 
 The kingdom of Christ does not advance. The wheels 
 of Zion stand still. 
 
 " Shall we be discouraged 1 No ! As far as possible 
 let us shake ourselves from the body of this death. Let 
 us lay hold of the Infinite resources, which are able to 
 lift us out of and above these dismal, discouraging, and 
 disastrous surroundings and hopefully place us on the 
 highway of prosperity with all our powers rein\'igor- 
 ated, all our hopes rekindled, all oiu' jDiu-poses to be 
 stronger and better awakened into new life. Up ! and 
 shake the dust of listlessness from oui* feet. 
 
 " 'As a man thinketh in his heart so is he.' This 
 being true, it becomes an important question, Wliat 
 shall we think? As our characters will be modeled 
 after our thoughts, they will be noble or ignoble ac- 
 cording to the mold in which they are formed, or the 
 plan after which they are constructed. The biulding 
 first exists in the thought of the architect or designer ; 
 then it takes form, and the visible structure is exactly 
 the reproduction of the invisible one previously con- 
 
2G0 LOOKINC WFTHIN. 
 
 strncted in tlio mind. So cliaraetor is tlie conntevpavt or 
 visible nianitVstat ion of wliat provionsly existed and t< t( »]c 
 form in thought. What is the character of your thoug-lit s, 
 my heai*ers ? Are they like the dead sea about us ? 
 
 ''Next to rig-lit thinking is right believing. If a man 
 does not believe in the existence of vii'tue, he will not 
 be virtuous. If he does not believe in the possibility 
 of a virtuous life, he wdll not try to live such a life. 
 If a man believes he cannot live a better life, he will 
 not try to ])etter his condition. If a man does not be- 
 lieve in the existence of God, he will not try to become 
 lilvc God. If he says there may be a God, but he don't 
 know anything about it, he ^oll not seek to be in llie 
 image of God. To him there is no original and hence 
 no image. If a person believes there is a God but He 
 neither hears nor answers prayers, he waU never i)ray 
 to Him for any aid or favor. These are plain, primaiy 
 principles. How are we squaring our lives ? By these 
 negations, or by a positive faith and pure and elevat- 
 ing thoughts ? Are we dead in unl)elief or alive in a 
 faith that lifts us up into the Infinite Life? Are we 
 trying to become godlike? Or are we di'ifting on the 
 tide of indifference on this sea of stagnation ? All our 
 environments inviti^ to indolence in morals as in other 
 things. We must arouse and shake all lethargy from 
 the soul. The night al)0ut us is dark truly, but only 
 the more need to be active. 
 
 "As paternalism's failure is a failure unto death; 
 as fanatical equality has failed, a sad failure unto an- 
 archy in social and domestic life; as the outlook fi-om 
 all Inmian and artificial methods is dark as Egypt — 
 where is help to arise ? Is hope dead? Are we aban- 
 doned to impending destruction without help or possi- 
 bility of deliverance ? No ! A thousand times no ! Om* 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 261 
 
 failures should be lessons of instniction. Out of this 
 vaUey of death we should hasten into the light of a new 
 life. The bow of promise shall yet span this cloud of 
 night and darkness. Only be men — men to dare and do. 
 
 *' Wlien the words of the great Teacher cease to be 
 mere platitudes, lifeless as paternahsm, and glow with 
 di^dne beauty and energy; when they move men's 
 hearts and lives with heavenly impulses and inspired 
 action ; when men shall really love their neighbors as 
 themselves, which is the sum of all duty of man to 
 man ; when men shall ' do unto others as they would 
 that others should do unto them ' ; when men ' shall 
 bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of 
 Christ ' ; when they shall ' look not every man on his 
 own things, but every man also on the things of 
 others ' ; when these living principles shall permeate 
 the hearts of men and become to fchem the moving 
 motives to action — then truly will j'ipened experience 
 end in subhme reality. Then will millennial glory, so 
 long prayed for, yet delayed through selfishness and 
 unbelief, shed its hallowed and divine radiance over 
 the world, crowning men with the halo which dawned 
 upon the cross of the Crucified. Then shall men be 
 fused into one great brotherhood of fellowship, the 
 culmination of the angelic announcement to the shep- 
 herds of Betlilehem, ''On earth peace, good- will to man ' 
 — the reign of purified and perfect love. 
 
 " Let us not be deceived. Because we have trusted 
 in human efforts alone and been disappointed, we 
 should not despair. If these cisterns hewn out by 
 men are empty ; if the body of human laws have no 
 life in them ; if the genius of men has made fountains 
 that have no water in them ; if all the exiiectations of 
 men in man's wisdom have perished — yet we should 
 
202 LOOIONd WITHIN. 
 
 lil't up our heads into the li^^lit wliicli .shines from the 
 eternal Sim and never gi*ows dim. The reij^n of peace 
 and love will only })e achieved by the cooperation of 
 hmnan and divine agency. We have tried the hnman 
 alone, and where are we ? On the outer brink of the 
 desolation of ruin ! Man is selfish. God is love. 
 Si'lfisliness must be conquered. It need not be kUled ; 
 but, like love, be directed to the highest ends of life 
 here and hereafter. An enlightened and sanctified 
 selfishness is pure and angelic. Let us attain it. How "? 
 By becoming godlike. 
 
 " That love which makes of mankind a brotherhood 
 is not born of time, of earth, of human de\'ice. It has 
 its root in that inexpressible tenderness which dwells 
 in the bosom of Eternal Love. It is this that shall 
 bless, crown, and glorify humanity. The rest we should 
 seek is not that which comes from legal enactments, 
 but the ineffable repose that the weary soul shall find 
 when it folds its tu-ed pinions on the loving breast of 
 Him who says, ' Come unto me, all ye that labor and 
 are heavy laden, and I wiU give you rest.' It is not the 
 light of man's reason that shall illuminate the world, 
 but the 'light that shines in our hearts to give the 
 knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus 
 Christ.' It is His ' glory that shall cover the earth as 
 the waters cover the sea.' 
 
 " As we stand amid the wreck of worldly hopes, as 
 we gaze on the failm-e of human devices, as we find 
 the staff of paternalism upon which we leaned for sup- 
 port a broken reed in our hand whose shai-p and jagged 
 points pierce us, as man's wisdom has proved such a 
 dismal failure, let us cease to trust in those 'things 
 that perish in the using thereof,' as we see all about us, 
 and turn to Him whose infinite wisdom is always helpful. 
 
LOOKING WITHIN, 263 
 
 ''We are entering upon a new era. Old tliing-s are 
 passing away. As the rickety fonndation of onr civil- 
 ization is removed from under our feet, let us be careful 
 that we stumble not on the slippery places where its 
 deceptive structm-e has left the slime of its presence. 
 As I said to some of you that day a quarter of a centuiy 
 ago, so I repeat now, change is at the threshold. This 
 time it will be radical. Men will be restored to them- 
 selves. Mastership of the govei-nment will end. The 
 palsied hand of disease will be lifted from the body 
 politic. Responsibility will be removed from the central 
 power to individuals. Out of the artificial groove we 
 wiU retm'n to nature's channel. From machines we 
 will be restored to men. Out of bondage we 'v\dll 
 emerge into liberty, out of slavery into freedom. The 
 taskmastei-'s work will soon be ended, the degradation 
 of servitude pass away. Are we ready for the change ? 
 Are we prepared to be men ? Shall we meet our new 
 responsibilities in the strength and pride and glory of 
 our ancestors 1 Again I inquire, ' Watchman, what of 
 the night ? ' And I hear the response, ' The morning 
 Cometh.' Glad morning for us ! Glad morning for 
 America ! Glad morning for the world ! Farewell, O 
 night of darkness and death, farewell ! And not a tear 
 to shed over the grave of thy buried dead ! Depart ye ! 
 depart ye ! Go ye out hence and return no more to 
 blight and curse our once happy land. 
 
 " How shall we welcome the new life ? Shall it be 
 with a song of joy upon our lips? Will any of us 
 murmur after the flesh-pots of EgyjDt ? Will any Linger 
 in the doleful shadows of paternaUsm ? 
 
 *' What a multitude of questions rise l)efore us ! 
 What a new world of activity opens to view ! How 
 the manhood within us begins to stir, as a chained 
 
2G4 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 giant in its pi-ison cell ! How tlio shackles fall at our 
 feet with a dull thud of welcome to the aspirmg soul ! 
 The breath of the new life ah-eady invigorates in antic- 
 illation. It is like a draught from the fountain of life 
 — like odors from sweet Ambrosia. Wait just a little ! 
 
 " A word, dearly beloved, for you and me. Let ns 
 not enter rashly or thoughtlessly upon the arena of this 
 lU'W life. We must avoid past errors. We must cul- 
 tivate fellowship. Brotherhood in fact as in name 
 should be our aim. Be true to the himian and also to 
 the God side of your nature. It is the coiiperation of 
 the human and the divine which alone can l)ring the 
 perfection we desire and should earnestly seek. ' Wliat 
 our hands find to do, let us do it with our might.' The 
 waste places are to l)e reclaimed, the deserts made to 
 bud and blossom. We are to form a heritage of civil 
 and religious liberty. Let it be worthy of us and of 
 the children to whom we shall bequeath it. In this new 
 world we are al)out to construct and enter, let love reign 
 as queen in kingly power — love that shall crown us all 
 with its deathless halo of glory ; love born in the bosom 
 of God, whence it sheds its i-adiance upon the hearts of 
 men. Let this love make of earth a paradise regained, 
 and then lift us up into the dwelling-place of the taber- 
 nacle of the Most High, where the light of eternity's 
 morning shall shed its ineffable sweetness upon the 
 resplendent habitations of immortality." 
 
 Tliis discourse, like its predecessor, stirred the people 
 of Boston and \dcinity as they had never been moved 
 before. They were thoughtful. They went to their 
 homes in silence. It also awakened expectancy, and 
 in many l)osoms kindled hope. It also prepared the 
 population, in a measure at least, for what was to come. 
 
CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 As intimated by Dr. Butler, the government issued 
 its manifesto to the people of the nation, setting forth 
 the present condition of affairs, and the necessity of a 
 radical change. Only a few of the salient portions of 
 the document will here be transcribed. The Executive 
 Council, which is the mouthpiece of the government, 
 said to the people : 
 
 " It is no longer wise or safe to hide the true situation 
 of ]3ublic affairs from the people at large. If we woidd 
 avert impending disaster, promj)t action must be taken. 
 "We have waited for the coUapse of the experiment in 
 Massachusetts to artificially make aU men equal, for we 
 did not wish to interfere with the trial of any theory 
 whose promise of good, however visionary, might break 
 the force of what we have to say. 
 
 " We have known for years that the present system 
 of government is a failure. Any system which removes 
 personal interest in what one does, or personal respon- 
 sibility for the manner of doing it, and for actions in 
 general, from the individual to a central power, must 
 fail. What a man has no personal interest in, he can- 
 not love. What he cannot claim as his own, he ceases 
 to cherish. The governmental care of all things 
 removes aU incentive to activity or desire to excel. 
 Ambition has no place in our economy, if we except the 
 few who reach places of command or authority. The 
 honorable mention for superior work with the medals 
 
 265 
 
266 LOOKING WITHIN'. 
 
 bestowi'd, which in the beginniug of our present form 
 of government caused some men to exert themselves, 
 has lost all its significance and all power to influence 
 citizens to put forth any effort to secure so evanescent 
 an honor. Apathy is the word which most nearly 
 expresses the feeling of men, and the spii'it wliicli per- 
 vades all tlie avenues of activity — or what shoidd be 
 activity — in the land. It is an apathy which is the 
 precursor of dissolution or tlie liarbinger of speedy 
 decay. We will briefly sumnuirize the situation. 
 
 "1. There is a falliug off of production in all deptirt- 
 nu'uts of industry, whetlier of skilled or unskilled work, 
 including agriculture and horticultui'e. 
 
 "■ 2. The supply of provisions now on hand is short. 
 A poor crop next year, or partial failure, would bring 
 actual want to the people. With a full crop there wdU 
 be no sui'plus. 
 
 '' 3. It is impossible to awaken interest, enthusiasm, 
 or acti\ity in any of the depai'tments of industrial labor. 
 The tasks assigned are gi-udgingly, often imperfectly, 
 performed. Neghgence is quite common. In some 
 cases there is entire avoidance of work on one pretense 
 or another. It being impracticable, if not impossible, 
 to provide ovei'seers for each indi^ddual, a remedy for 
 these evils has not been devised, if indeed one can be 
 found. 
 
 "4. There is no homogeneity of interest or feeling 
 over the nation. Our people are strangers to each 
 other. There is no more fellowship or intercourse 
 between the people of the far west and the far east or 
 the extremes of north and south than between the 
 inhabitants of tliis countr}' and foreign lands. Indeed^ 
 this lack of communication extends to the interior, and 
 people who Uve a hundi-ed miles from each other are 
 
LOOKING WITHIN, 267 
 
 perfect strangers. As the governineiit does all the 
 business of the nation and is the niedimu and active 
 operator in all exchanges, there is no occasion or neces- 
 sity for intercom-se on the part of the people ; and as 
 the means of travel are not possessed by any class of 
 the population, almost no travel is indulged in. Wliere 
 there is nothing to bind together so vast a territory as 
 ours, it is almost certain to be divided. Lack of cohe- 
 sion with so extended a domain is sure to terminate in 
 the separation of the parts — a breaking down of its own 
 weight. 
 
 *^ 5. There is no real improvement in any direction. 
 There is no adequate incentive to induce improvement, 
 and none can be offered by the government without a 
 departure from the central idea of oiu* present system 
 of operations, namely, that the person is to be cared 
 for because he or she is a limnan being, and not for the 
 possession of any gifts or endowments. A premium 
 upon the latter would produce discord at once. 
 
 " 6. Having no personal interest in and no acquaint- 
 ance with each other, our people are fast losing the 
 sense of nationality and the patriotic love of country 
 as a whole so essential to stability and prosperity. The 
 national feeling is simply a tradition, not a heart-felt 
 possession. The people of each locality have the natui-al 
 attachment for their native place, but care little or 
 nothing for the next province or State, or its citizens. 
 Hence there is no broad sense or feeling of national 
 pride and patriotism such as glowed in the bosoms of 
 om' fathers. Lack of personal interest in the homes 
 they occupy, the land they till, or the occupation they 
 follow, adds to this weakening of loyalty and love of 
 country. 
 
 '' 7. There is no remedy, no recuperative power in 
 
268 LOOKING ^\^THrN. 
 
 oiir system by whieli new life can be infused into it. 
 It is radically and inherently defective. It is out of 
 liarniony with those principles and interests which must 
 be a personal possession and inheritance in order to 
 the production of the highest development of humanity, 
 or that unity of sentiment, feeling, and purpose essen- 
 tial to good government and stable institutions. 
 
 ''8. After careful observation and eveiy effort pos- 
 sible to improve affaii'S, without success, we ai-e fidly 
 persuaded there can be no bettering of our condition 
 under the present order of things, and that a change is 
 imperatively demanded, and should be nuide ■with the 
 least possible delay. Time is valuable at this juncture 
 in oiu' history. 
 
 ^' The disease is inherent and incm-ablc. The remedy 
 must be radical. We thei-efore propose to the people 
 of the nation, a return to the government of the nine- 
 teenth centmy under the old constitution of the United 
 States, with such modifications as may be deemed wise 
 and expedient." 
 
 Then follow a number of suggestions and recom- 
 mendations, the most important of which are here 
 summai'ized in brief : 
 
 Owuei'ship of land to l)e i-estrieted at the start t(^ one 
 hundred acres for each family, then reduced gradually 
 in ciuantity as population increases, until finally it 
 should rest at twenty-five acres. At each reduction the 
 owner was to be permitted to sell the over^jlus of land 
 held at such price as he or she could secure, and the 
 proceeds of the sale to be his or hers. 
 
 Income taxes were to be collected on all annual 
 incomes of over one thousand dollars, the rate of tax- 
 ation to be graduated. One thousand dollars income 
 to each head of a fandly was to be exempt from this 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 269 
 
 species of tax. The second thousand of income was 
 to pay two per cent, per annum, with an increase on 
 each additional thousand until fifty thousand was 
 reached, on which the tax was to be fifty per cent, 
 of the income. This rate inchided all above fifty thou- 
 sand doUars. 
 
 The funds thus secured were to be expended in 
 pubHc unprovements of a national character, upon 
 which labor was to be given to such as were out of 
 employment. No idlers were to be tolerated. 
 
 No person whose annual income should be one hun- 
 di-ed thousand doUars or more should be eligible to the 
 offices of President or Vice-President of the United 
 States, governor of any State, or judge of any com*t 
 of record, either national or State. This was recom- 
 mended to discourage the accmnulation of vast wealth 
 in few hands. 
 
 The people of the. several provinces were earnestly 
 ad\'ised to select their best and ablest men to represent 
 them in the national convention called and provided 
 for. Voting places and rules and regulations for the 
 conduct of elections were announced.' Every detail was 
 provided for, and such regulations adopted as should 
 secure order at the jdoUs, and uniformity in the conduct 
 of elections throughoxtt tlie realm. 
 
 The propositions were promulgated so that the pro- 
 posed changes might be thoroughly discussed by aU the 
 peoj)le. 
 
 Ha\dng exhausted all their resources to better the 
 affairs of the country unavailingly, they express a feel- 
 ing of great relief at the prospect of laying down the 
 burden of care and responsibihty at the feet of the 
 people. Presuming that the convention soon to assem- 
 ble would find it necessary to assume some legislative 
 
270 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 functions, the following suggestions were put forth for 
 
 the consideration of voters : 
 
 "1. That all lauds be leased to the tillers of the soil, 
 and, as far as practicable for the general welfare, to 
 the present occupants, at a low rate of rental, with the 
 pri^olege of purchase by making annual payments at 
 a low rate of interest, on such terms aud under such 
 conditions as Congress may adopt. 
 
 "2. That farming implements be left on each farm as 
 they are to be used, theu* use free the fii'st year, under 
 suitable guarantees for proper care and preservation, 
 and charges for loss or abuse. If Congress approves 
 the proposition, to be afterward sold to the persons 
 using them at cash value, on terms similar to land 
 sales. 
 
 "3. Provision should be made for operating the rail- 
 roads, telegraphs, and postal system, until Congress can 
 provide for the permanent disposition of the same. At 
 present, for reasons well known and apparent, none 
 of these institutions pay iTinning expenses. They 
 have been a bui'den and heavy tax upon the govern- 
 ment for many years. The roads have canied the 
 freights, but for which they would have been aban- 
 doned. The telegi'aph has been used instead of the 
 mails for communication between the government and 
 the pro\'inces, or it would have fallen into disuse. 
 The mail routes do not pay a tithe of their expenses ; 
 they have been kept up because the railways had to be 
 used, and these having to be operated for other pur- 
 poses, lessened thereby the expense to the mail ser\dce. 
 All these will doubtless become useful and remunera- 
 tive under the new order of things. 
 
 "4. The present clumsy currency should be super- 
 seded by one of greater convenience and better adapted 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 271 
 
 to the needs of a commercial and self-supporting popu- 
 lation. 
 
 " 5. Temporary markets and methods of exchange or 
 for the sale of produce wiU be requu-ed. 
 
 " 6. Provision must be made for the continued care 
 and support of pensioners above the age of fifty years, 
 as these cannot be relegated to the producing classes. 
 
 " Permanent regulations for most of these matters 
 belong to Congi-ess ; but seasonable temporary provis- 
 ions may be properly made by the convention, if so 
 instructed by the people. 
 
 '' Other measm-es of present utdity or necessity may 
 come before that body. As there are practically no 
 individual rights of property to conflict with the forma- 
 tion of the new government, there will be a compara- 
 tively smooth sea into which the new ship of state 
 may be launched. The existing government wiU do 
 all in its power to promote the general welfare untU 
 the new machinery is put in motion, when aU its bur- 
 den of care and responsibility will be laid down with 
 rejoicing." 
 
 This document, properly authenticated, was sent to 
 all parts of the country to be read and pondered by the 
 inhabitants, and to prepare them to act their part in 
 the momentous events about to transpii-e. It contained 
 facts ah'eady known to the reader, but of which the 
 body of the people were in ignorance. It was neces- 
 sary to place these facts in an official form, that they 
 might go forth clothed with authority as reliable data 
 for popular action. 
 
CHAPTER XXXYII. 
 
 This action of the government, expected only by 
 the comparatively few who were advised of the situa- 
 ti(m and posted on passing events, caused great excite- 
 ment everywhere. The people were aroused fi'om a 
 state of indifference and sloth to one of impiiry, inten- 
 sity, and ferment. Heretofore the election of the few 
 rulers had been a matter of trifling interest to the mass 
 of voters. Now, for the first time in fifty yeai-s, and 
 dm-ing the lifetune of a majority of the electors, large 
 assembhes were convened in all the provinces, where 
 measures of public pohcy were discussed. The people 
 were deplorably ignorant and needed instruction on 
 even the rudimentary elements of self-government, and 
 of a '' government of the people, by the people, and for 
 the people." Pubhc meetings became public schools 
 for the dissemination of political information and edu- 
 cation. By these means the voters became acquainted 
 with the men best qualified to intrust with the duty 
 of forming a constitution and founding a government. 
 They were uneorrupted by political demagogues and 
 entirely ignorant of the machine-methods of political 
 parties of the nineteenth century, and so selected as 
 their representatives the men who proved themselves 
 to be the most worthy and the best equipped for the 
 great work they were called upon to perform. 
 
 The convention met. It was composed of the best 
 men of the nation. It did its woi-k Av-isely and well. 
 
LOOinNG WITHIN. 273 
 
 With some modifications, the features proposed l:)y tlie 
 old government were adopted. Some new ones were 
 added. One provision reenforced the right of the 
 States in local, municipal, ana pohce regulations. The 
 national character of the new government was amply 
 secured. The best of the ancient constitution was 
 adopted ; those parts not desirable, or no longer appli- 
 cable, were rejected. The paternalism of the expiring 
 regime was utterly and entirely elimmated. The instru- 
 ment, when completed, was a masterpiece of political 
 workmanship. 
 
 The people ratified it with gi-eat unanimity and 
 rejoicing. State governments were simultaneously 
 instituted and set in motion, with new and excellent 
 features. Marriage and divorce laws were made uni- 
 form throughout the land under constitutional provis- 
 ions, national and State. Old defects were avoided and 
 valuable new provisions adopted. 
 
 Congi-ess and the legislatures of the several States 
 met and enacted plain, simple, and forcible codes of 
 laws, free from ambiguities and imfettered by customs 
 and precedents, or any other entangling complications. 
 These were easily understood. The wheels of govern- 
 ment were set running smoothly, without jar or friction. 
 All that remained was for the people to adjust them- 
 selves and become adjusted to the new order of things. 
 This they did with as much readiness as could be ex- 
 pected. 
 
 The change which followed was marvelous. Torpor 
 was turned into activity, indifference into energy. New 
 life was infused into every department of industry. 
 Business proper was born again. It had been dead 
 and bm-ied so long, as far as individual effort and con- 
 trol were concerned, that its new existence was like 
 
274 LOOKING WITHIN. 
 
 tliat of one raised from the grave. The whole aspect 
 of affairs was so changed that tlie transformation was 
 scarcely short of a transfiguration. So manifest was 
 this that the people iuqnu-ed of each other : 
 
 '' How did we manage to live before we knew how f " 
 
 And the reply was sometimes made : 
 
 '^ I guess we did not live at all in the tnie sense of 
 the word. We simply vegetated." 
 
 ****** 
 
 Efiie and I returned to our native place. We had no 
 difficulty in establishing the title to both our estates, 
 and took possession of them with joyful hearts. I was 
 restricted to one hundi-ed acres of land, but cared for 
 no more. 
 
 In time Effie had her home restored to its original 
 design, beauty, and adornments. Here we were to re- 
 side, and no pains or expense was spared to make 
 it pleasant and desii"able. The structure was solid 
 throughout, and had weathered the storms and neglect 
 of a hundi'ed years with remarkable success. 
 
 Wlien we passed through the house we found still 
 remaining many of the permanent featm'es as of old, 
 with theii' dear and sacred associations. They lingered 
 as cherished pictures in the halls of memory. There 
 was Effie's own room, with a thousand sweet recol- 
 lections flooding through it. As all this past came 
 back to her heart, Effie's eyes filled with tears of sweet 
 joy and her spii-it bounded with gladness. I had not 
 seen her so radiant with soulful delight since the day 
 of om* nuptials. It was home, with all that precious 
 word means. No one can enter into our feelings who, 
 like us, has not been banished from home, wanderers 
 in a baiTen land, with no spot to place a foot upon 
 and call it ours. It was like awaking from a troubled 
 
LOOIvLNG WITHIN. 275 
 
 dream into tlie sweetest and dearest realities of real 
 life. My wife went singing from room to room with 
 new-born melody in her heart, the brightest, best, and 
 most royal woman in the wide world. I fnlly shared 
 her happiness, and felt how blessed it was to have such 
 a companion and such a home. 
 
 After putting om* house in order, I proposed to Effie 
 that we take some excursions into the country and \dsit 
 the places we had seen before, that we might ascertain 
 from personal observation what changes had been 
 wi'ought. Many wonderful stories had come to us of 
 transformations and improvements ; but to see for our- 
 selves would be much more satisfactory. At fii'st she 
 was a little reluctant to leave the cherished home, but 
 assented cheerfully after a little reflection. 
 
 We passed over the same regions a quarter of a 
 century before. Then the entire aspect of the country 
 was dreary as desolation ; a palsied toi-pidity was visi- 
 ble on every side. Now the desert had been made to 
 " bud and blossom as the rose." It was a fi'uitf ul do- 
 main. Far as the eye could reach the waving fields of 
 grain gave promise of the coming harvest of abun- 
 dance. Thrift and industry were visible everywhere. 
 Men were active ; women were cheerful ; childi-en were 
 happy. 
 
 It was a new life with new experiences. Its very 
 novelty was a charm. The gloom of the previous 
 period of night had taken the wings of the morning 
 and flown away. Activity quickened the pulses of the 
 people. They were delighted by the new ownership of 
 themselves. They were inspired by the right to dispose 
 of theii' time, labor, and persons. Their earnings were 
 their own. There was ambition to be something and to 
 do something. To excel was a new incentive. Emula- 
 
270 L00K1NC4 Wl'THtN. 
 
 tioii was kiudled in every l)reast. Hope flung out licr 
 banner. The bow of promise gilded the mist cloud of 
 the futui'e. The world was an arena of light and glad- 
 ness. Sloth was ignored. Idleness was banished. 
 Energy was at a premium. A listless person was a 
 curiosity. The evidences of universal occupation were 
 in advance of anything we had seen even in the olden 
 time. Interest taken in business was universal. 
 Snatches of song and whole melodies of rejoicing told 
 more plainly than words the bubbhng joy in the people's 
 hearts. 
 
 The changes were as radical as those described in 
 stories of faiiy-land. Beauty, taste, adornment — these 
 were seen on every side. They added a charm to the 
 more prosy labor necessary for the wants of life. Smil- 
 ing faces, happy childi-en, cheerfid homes — these were 
 the evidences of a new order of existence. At first we 
 were absorbed in ahnost silent admiration ; then came 
 exclamations of delight. We were more than gTatified ; 
 we were exliilarated. The blood tingled in our veins 
 to the tips of our fingers. My -wife exclaimed : 
 
 " This is coming out of darkness into hght, out of 
 death into life." 
 
 And so it was. It was the dawning glory of the 
 morning of a new era of progi'ess, whose meridian 
 splendor no one could foretell. It was burying the 
 remams of the dead past and covering the world with 
 the brightness of a H\dng future. I said to Effie : 
 
 "You do not Mash to return to the system of govern- 
 mental control, be relieved of the burden and care of 
 pro\dding for yourself, and have no anxiety for the 
 morrow or the future ? " 
 
 " Not for the world ! Care and toil are sweet when 
 glorified by love. AU my experiences and recollections 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 277 
 
 of paternalism are sad and gloomy. Not a truly bright 
 spot appears as an oasis in all the bleak desert of death. 
 It is more like a horrible nightmare than anything else. 
 As I personally knew so little abont it, what mnst it 
 have been to sensitive souls who felt all the weight of 
 the burden ! How the fetters of the government must 
 have chafed ! How the degradation of humanity must 
 have humbled! How the aspiring mind must have 
 writhed in the ii-on grasp that held it down ! I shudder 
 at the very thought of that period of desolation." 
 
 We went among the people, to learn by personal in- 
 tercourse how they felt. Expressions like these came 
 to us from every quarter : 
 
 " We have something to Hve for now, we never had 
 before. We know what life really is ; before this, we 
 only existed. The sense of ownership is sweet. Until 
 now we did not own ourselves, and knew nothing of 
 the dehght of self-possession. To go as we jjlease, 
 where we please, and when we please is a luxury — a 
 new and cheering experience. To be men, and not 
 machines or slaves, lifts one out of degradation into 
 manhood. To have something we can call our own is 
 a new and invigorating experience. To reap the fruit 
 of our own endeavors, to dispose of om'selves and our 
 earnings, is a precious privilege, the value of which we 
 were strangers to until now. You see the result : the 
 old dead-appearing houses burnished ; vines and flowers 
 adding beauty and fragrance ; dreariness made invit- 
 ing. We go to oiu' homes now with a sense of pride. 
 They are retreats made attractive by love, hope, and 
 ownership. In fact, we are in a new world. 'Old 
 things have passed away, all things have become new,' 
 and we are new men and women." 
 
 As we moved from place to place beholding the de- 
 
278 LOOKING \^^THIN. 
 
 velopments of the new life in city and country, there 
 were numberless incidents witnessed which made glad 
 the heart. The stretch of mind and body for some- 
 thing better was itself an inspiration. The onward 
 look of a soul that had a future to construct for itself ; 
 the sparkling eye; the radiant countenance; the ex- 
 pectant gaze ; the awakened ambition ; the keen incen- 
 tive to excel ; the dread of being left behind ; the up 
 and at work everj'^'here — these were the ever-\'isible 
 evidences of a people just aroused to a sense of their 
 own capabiUties. It was better than the nineteenth 
 century in that its novelty left no room for torpor, its 
 equality no ground for envy. It was the liest of the 
 former times, as to persons and actions, made almost 
 universal. This apphes, of com-se, to outward activity ; 
 the inner life could not be seen. 
 
 There was another feature which affected us differ- 
 ently. As we were mo\*ing very slowly past a resi- 
 dence in the country, the notes of an instrument and 
 a sweet voice sang out clearly and tenderly, "Home, 
 sweet home." 
 
 We paused to listen. As the dear words and music 
 of other days came home to om* hearts in the gather- 
 ing t"v\ahght, Effie said softly : 
 
 " Oh, how precious ! I have not heard that dear 
 song, so fuU of sacred associations, for a hundred 
 years. It has been one of om* banished treasm-es." 
 
 While she spoke the dew of tears was in her eyes. 
 When the song ceased, and a hush fell upon us and 
 the scene, she said : 
 
 " Let us hasten home. I wish to feel this joy in om* 
 own dear bower." 
 
 It was but a few miles to the city. We were return- 
 ing from a distant excursion when the incident arrested 
 
LOOKING WITHIN. 279 
 
 attention. In a few minutes we readied our destina- 
 tion. Effie scarcely waited to remove her wraps before 
 she sat down at the piano, and while the spell was 
 upon her sang those words as I had never heard them 
 sung before. Her soul was in them ; the flush of in- 
 spii'ation was on her face, the light of love and pathos 
 in her eye. Holy memories came trooping home as 
 from her dear lips, moved by a divine impidse, the 
 words came like a benediction, so full of all that was 
 tender, touching, and endearing. 
 
 The home of my childhood and youth ! Mother ! 
 Father ! How they stood before me ! Oh, the dear 
 recollections ! Then our own beloved abode, so full 
 of all that can make life blessed ! As Effie finished I 
 caught her to my breast with impassioned impulse and 
 imprinted a long, Ungering kiss of love upon her lips, 
 while the words were still ringing in my ears as melody 
 from the skies : 
 
 " Home, sweet home ! " 
 
 No more should the song, the sentiment, the posses- 
 sion, be driven from oui* happy land. Paternalism 
 WAS dead! 
 
 THE END.