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              <text>The &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Public School &#13;
Problem In &#13;
America &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
By &#13;
Dr. H. W. Evans, Imperial Wizard, &#13;
Knights of the Ku Klux Klan &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Outlining fully the policies &#13;
and the program of the &#13;
Knights of the Ku Klux &#13;
Klan toward the Public &#13;
School System &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Copyright 1924, K. K. K. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Public School Problem &#13;
In American &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Out of his boyhood has come to us the sub- &#13;
limely simple supplication of Abraham Lincoln: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“God help father, help mother, help sister, help every- &#13;
body Teach me to read and write Watch over Honey and &#13;
make him a good dog. And keep us all from getting lost in &#13;
the wilderness. Amen.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
While Lincoln was on his childish knees, &#13;
&#13;
eee the phrophetic prayer that we be kept &#13;
rom getting lost in the wilderness, there lived &#13;
&#13;
a man made in God’s image who preached and &#13;
practiced the solution to that problem. Horace &#13;
Mann, the immortal sponsor and patron saint of &#13;
education in America, believed that— &#13;
&#13;
“The national safety, prosperity and happiness &#13;
could be obtained only through free public schools, open &#13;
to all, good enough for all and attended by all.”’ &#13;
&#13;
I have come to speak to you in support of that &#13;
fundamental American doctrine, to proclaim its &#13;
importance to every phase of our eet and &#13;
public life, to urge its complete and immediate &#13;
adoption as the most essential of all national &#13;
policies. &#13;
&#13;
In his infancy Lincoln had experience with a &#13;
wilderness in which boys and girls, even men &#13;
and women, could lose their way—an uncharted &#13;
unpeopled expanse of woods and water in which &#13;
lurked the deadliest dangers. He lived to see &#13;
those perils disappear. Others, vastly more &#13;
vital, began to loom large and menacing. His &#13;
utterances contain many warnings with respect &#13;
to a new kind of wilderness in which, not citi- &#13;
zens, but society, might go astray. &#13;
&#13;
There is no longer a frontier America, but we &#13;
have a wilderness in which predominates as &#13;
much of stealth and more of vindictiveness than &#13;
any jungle ever knew. It does not endanger &#13;
individuals so much as it menaces society. Out &#13;
of it crouching creatures no longer spring upon &#13;
humans to satisfy the pangs of hunger; instead &#13;
we have creations that prey upon humanity to &#13;
appease appetites and passions for power. &#13;
&#13;
A spirit of lawlessness is endian the land, &#13;
and fast ripening into an anarchy that is none- &#13;
theless real because garbed in the ermine &#13;
of respectability and unconnected with red ban- &#13;
ners and black bombs. Our ideals and traditions &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
3 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
are being weakened by disrespect and inatten- &#13;
&#13;
tion. The art and dignity of enactment is being &#13;
&#13;
superseded by the unscrupulous science of legal &#13;
&#13;
evasion and subterfuge. Our politicians seek &#13;
&#13;
not the common welfare, but their own success. &#13;
&#13;
Our schools are in every way inadequate; they. &#13;
have not the institutional standing to which &#13;
&#13;
they are entitled; they do not prevent illiteracy, &#13;
&#13;
nor always promote patriotism; too often they &#13;
&#13;
teach a aided allegiance. Many of our churches &#13;
&#13;
are becoming bickering centers and sources of &#13;
ceaseless, strife-engendering controversy, fight- &#13;
&#13;
ing not the forces of evil, but each other, church &#13;
&#13;
against church, creed against creed. Out of it &#13;
&#13;
all, and because of it all, there has almost ceased &#13;
&#13;
to exist that priceless boon to humankind known &#13;
&#13;
as news; propaganda, the modern curse of civili- &#13;
&#13;
zation that spawns prejudice and nurtures in- &#13;
&#13;
justice, has taken its place. Our modern wilder- &#13;
&#13;
ness is full of darkness. Truth, God's truth and &#13;
man's truth, has become a vagrant—ragged, distorted &#13;
and discredited by selfishness as never before in human &#13;
&#13;
history. &#13;
&#13;
In all things, public and private, truth must &#13;
prevail. Individually, that means intelligence, &#13;
health and virtue. Nationally, it means liberty &#13;
and justice, the safeguarding of our traditions, &#13;
the fulfillment of our ideals. &#13;
&#13;
To civilization it means security and con- &#13;
tinued progress onward and upward. To attain &#13;
truth, we must adopt, without reservation or &#13;
evasion, not years hence, but now, the kind, &#13;
quality and quantity of education advocated by &#13;
Horace Mann. &#13;
&#13;
Had that been done a half century ago, we &#13;
would not now be in a wilderness of chaotic &#13;
conflicts and confusing controversies. The re- &#13;
ligious wrangling that again threatens our &#13;
security and the peace of the world would not &#13;
exist. Instead af an already menacing growth &#13;
of divided allegiance, there would be national &#13;
solidarity. The separation of church and state &#13;
would be accomplished. Our patriotism would &#13;
be operative, rather than so generally inept &#13;
and purposeless. Had education been founda- &#13;
tionally established; had it been extended, and &#13;
kept free of every perversion; had there been &#13;
“*free public schools. open to all, good enough for all, &#13;
and attended by all,’’performing their function &#13;
of teaching ‘‘truth, the whole truth, and nothing but &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
4 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
the truth,’’ we would not today be in a life and &#13;
death grapple with propaganda. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I submit to you that all through the ages, &#13;
whenever and wherever God’s purposes have &#13;
been manifest in the affairs of men, resulting in &#13;
what we call an advance of civilization, that &#13;
achievement has had as its vehicle a temporarily &#13;
wholesome national life. Through some nation- &#13;
al entity has come every bit of ground gained by &#13;
and for civilization. The elements contributing &#13;
to every advancement have always been law and &#13;
order, enlightenment, unity, freedom and justice. &#13;
Interpreted in terms of today, the antithesis of &#13;
these fundamentals may be stated as Jawlessness, &#13;
illiteracy, disrupting strife and controversy, propa- &#13;
ganda instead of truth, and the economic inequities &#13;
that increasingly threaten the very stability of society. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I now advocate the adequate education of our &#13;
future citizenship through a free public school &#13;
system, as I have pleaded for a rigidly enforced &#13;
immigration, adapted to our ideals and needs. &#13;
The two remedies go together. Neither alone &#13;
can re-Americanize and safeguard our sacred &#13;
institutions, If this country continues to be &#13;
flooded by inferior peoples whose assimilation &#13;
is impossible, the task of enlightened advance- &#13;
ment will be hopeless. Our indifference of the &#13;
last three decades in this connection has already &#13;
made it extremely difficult; but if we now place &#13;
an embargo upon every alien element not in &#13;
harmony with our requirements, it is not yet &#13;
too late for the redemption of the Republic by &#13;
means of the public school for children and its &#13;
auxiliaries for adults. Let immigration of every &#13;
undesirable type be stopped, completely stopped, &#13;
until our own illiteracy and internal strife can &#13;
be superseded by a literacy based upon unselfish, &#13;
unshackled truth and patriotism built upon &#13;
eager, unqualified, un-coerced acceptance of the &#13;
principles that are the very foundation of our &#13;
government. In the meantime, with the further &#13;
over-burdening of our composite people through &#13;
unmergeable immigration at an end, we can, &#13;
with some assurance of success, give constructive &#13;
attention to the emancipation of America from &#13;
ignorance and prejudice. Wecan free our beloved &#13;
country from every darkness and danger. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Our Children the Cheif Asset of the State &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
You cannot disassociate citizenship from &#13;
civilization. We have a government, of by and &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
5 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
for the people. The great problem, then, concerns &#13;
two vital things; the character and the ability of &#13;
our composite people. Their development, hith- &#13;
erto neglected, is a public responsibility pas &#13;
mount to all other constructive duties of the &#13;
state. &#13;
&#13;
We area Republic. The consent of the governed is &#13;
the underlying principle of our public life. That &#13;
being basic, the only sure highway to national &#13;
success is adequate democratic education. &#13;
&#13;
Every statesman worthy the name has recog- &#13;
nized that its children were the greatest asset of &#13;
any state, and has based his hope for a glorious &#13;
national future upon their highest development &#13;
as individuals and as citizens. Out of each de- &#13;
cade from the Declaration of Independence to &#13;
this hour, I could summon the most notable &#13;
witnesses to attest the truth of that doctrine and &#13;
the necessity for its completest attainment. &#13;
&#13;
George Washington, in his farewell address, &#13;
gave this council: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Promote then, as an object of primary importance, &#13;
institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In &#13;
proportion as the structure of government gives force to &#13;
public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be &#13;
enlightened.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Let me recall another voice from the days of &#13;
our infancy. The famous “‘Ordinance of 1787” &#13;
contains this historic declaration: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Religion, morality and knowledge, being necessary to &#13;
good government and the happiness of mankind, schools &#13;
and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
That was our earliest educational statute on a &#13;
national scale. While it gave legal standing toa &#13;
mighty principle, it did not soe either the &#13;
means or the machinery of fulfillment. Two gen- &#13;
erations later, we find Daniel Webster paying &#13;
this tribute to its fundamental value: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“I doubt whether one single law of any lawgiver, ancient &#13;
or modern, bas produced effects of more distant, marked &#13;
and Jasting character than the Ordinance of 17&amp;7 . . . It &#13;
set forth and declared it to be a high and binding duty of &#13;
Government to support schools and advance the means of &#13;
education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The greatest American tragedy was not un- &#13;
folded upon any battle field, or in any series of &#13;
catastrophies. It exists in the fact that neither &#13;
the advice of Washington nor the spirit of this &#13;
ordinance were carried out. That was why &#13;
Daniel Webster referred to it. In 1866, seventy- &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
6 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
mine years after, James A. Garfield, later to &#13;
occupy the White House, presented to Congress &#13;
an Education Association memorial from which &#13;
I quote: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Your memorialists beg leave to express their earnest &#13;
belief that universal education, next to universal liberty, is &#13;
a matter of deep national concern. Our experiment of &#13;
republican institutions is not upon the scale of a petty &#13;
municipality or state, but it covers half a continent and &#13;
embraces peoples of widely diverse interests and conditions, &#13;
but who are to continue ‘one and inseparable.’ Every &#13;
condition of our perpetuity and progress as a nation adds &#13;
emphasis to the remark of Montesquieu, “ it is in a republican &#13;
government that the whole power of education is required.’ ”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The occasion of that memorial was the fight &#13;
for more adequate public school education then &#13;
engaging the attention of thoughtful, patriotic &#13;
Americans. Of that attempt I shall speak later. &#13;
I refer to it here because you should understand &#13;
that this present battle began two generations &#13;
ago, and also that at no time, from Washington &#13;
to Lincoln, or since, have the educational &#13;
facilities of the nation been more than a be- &#13;
ginning of what were required for the safety &#13;
and advancement of a great Republic. &#13;
&#13;
In his remarkable book on ‘“‘Child Labor and &#13;
the Constitution,’’ Mr. Raymond G. Fuller savs: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“What nation shall be greatest among the nations of the &#13;
‘New World’? That nation shall be greatest that puts &#13;
children first in its thought, in its politics, in its economics, &#13;
in its ethics The nation that accepts the leadership of little &#13;
children and sets them in the midst of its counselors, that &#13;
nation will lead all others in the health, intelligence, moral- &#13;
ity, efficiency and happiness of its citizens and in national &#13;
prosperity both material and spiritual. On the quality of &#13;
nations international peace and progress depend ”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
To show the extent of our failure, I present &#13;
the opinion of Dr. Alexander J. Englis, Profes- &#13;
sor of Education at Harvard University, who &#13;
said in 1922: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“In the first place let us recognize that in all parts of this &#13;
country public education is very, very far from being that &#13;
which we should all like to see it, that in parts of the country &#13;
it is almost unbelievably bad, that vocational education has &#13;
scarcely begun to be recognized, that the amount of illiter- &#13;
acy and of near-illiteracy is alarmingly great, that attention &#13;
to Oe education throughout the country is almost &#13;
negligible, that our large foreign population constitutes a &#13;
serious problem for education and for society, that most &#13;
country children do not have anything like a fair oppor- &#13;
tunity for education, that in many sections of the country &#13;
short school terms make effective education all but impos- &#13;
sible, that a large part of our teachers lack proper education, &#13;
training and experience—let us recognize all these and &#13;
many other defects of education too numerous to catalog. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
7 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
They are conditions which cry aloud for reform in tye &#13;
appealing voices of children deprived of their rights as &#13;
American citizens. They are undoubted and indubitable &#13;
facts which cannot be ignored.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Dr. Englis here speaks of “‘the defects of edu- &#13;
cation too numerous to catalog."’ My serious study &#13;
of the whole problem suggests one funda- &#13;
mental difficulty that is not in any catalog, a &#13;
aandicap that goes back to the beginning, ane &#13;
erore the beginning of the public school system. &#13;
in fact, who among you now can say when, or &#13;
how, our public school system began? The &#13;
public school is the most essential of all Amer- &#13;
ican institutions; we all know that; yet, unlike &#13;
any other great American institution, it did &#13;
not come into existence with clearly defined &#13;
distinctive character. No date or event marks &#13;
its birth. No national document ever bestowed &#13;
upon it specific principles and purposes. Nor &#13;
was the basic question of its relation to govern- &#13;
ment ever fully and finally determined. I &#13;
mention these things to show that in this &#13;
country public school education was never &#13;
rightly honored by a place in any organic act &#13;
like the Declaration of Independence, or the &#13;
Constitution; nor was it ever given deserved &#13;
recognition in any outstanding federal enact- &#13;
ment. It just grew, in almost haphazard fash- &#13;
ion, through a kind of vagrant evolution, into &#13;
what it is today, with only about one- -seventh &#13;
of the efficiency that our national needs demand. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
For centuries education was exclusively of, &#13;
py and for the church. That was yet quite &#13;
largely the situation throughout Europe at the &#13;
time of American colonization. The first &#13;
evidences of change were in Holland and &#13;
Scotland, and among the Puritans and Hugue- &#13;
nots of England and France. Those earliest &#13;
liberals had a vision of universal education, &#13;
but there remained in their minds the idea of &#13;
a religious objective. &#13;
&#13;
Then, in the eighteenth century, philan- &#13;
thropy took an interest in education. Next &#13;
there were charity schools. After that, thank &#13;
God, came the conception of the American &#13;
common school, emerging slowly and uncer- &#13;
tainly, because, as I have shown, it was an &#13;
organic orphan, and had to shift for itself. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
As the colonies differed, so did their schools. &#13;
But gradually American education took on a &#13;
type of its own, although it was not until &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
8 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
three quarters of a century after the birth o! &#13;
the Republic that the public school, as we now &#13;
know it, was at all firmly established. &#13;
&#13;
No one will deny that it was always the &#13;
intention to have adequate education in Amer- &#13;
ica. Private and public declarations of that &#13;
high purpose are abundant; but the trouble was, &#13;
and is, that the cause of public education was &#13;
mever given the sanction and standing, yea, &#13;
and the security, that could be obtained only &#13;
through basic recognition of its paramount &#13;
importance. &#13;
&#13;
The truth is that half our national life was &#13;
lived without a general pub! c school system, &#13;
and that, during the last half, public schools &#13;
have been pitifully inadequate, to which &#13;
failures can be traced most of the national ills &#13;
that now beset us. &#13;
&#13;
At the half-way mark two of our greatest &#13;
Americans entered the arena to battle for this &#13;
cause. They were Horace Mann of Massachu- &#13;
setts and Henry Barnard of Connecticut. To &#13;
them America owes the highest, grandest, &#13;
monuments ever erected to her most deserving &#13;
heroes. &#13;
&#13;
Out of their statesmanship and the labors of &#13;
others of that period came the effort to give &#13;
public school education the standing it should &#13;
have had in the beginning. , &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
In 1867, James A. Garfield sponsored legisla- &#13;
tion to create a Department of Education. &#13;
Henry Barnard became the Commissioner of &#13;
Education, but without a place in the Cabinet. &#13;
Through the influence of the enemies of Demo- &#13;
cratic Education, the Department of Education &#13;
was demoted to a mere Bureau, under the &#13;
Secretary of the Interior, which it has since &#13;
remained. Henry Barnard resigned. The clock &#13;
of true progress for America was set back, not &#13;
days, but decades. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The big thing, the fundamental, all important &#13;
thing to be accompolished for the cause of Democratic &#13;
Education in America is to give it the recognition, the &#13;
dignity, the established standing, of a high place in &#13;
the Cabinet. We are supporting a program to &#13;
establish a Department of Education, with a &#13;
Cabinet Secretary at its head. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Why A Department Of Education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
If there be the slightest doubt as to what a &#13;
Department of Education would mean to the &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
9 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
public school system, that doubt will disappear &#13;
when you understand the attitude toward it of &#13;
the enemies of democratic education. In a few &#13;
minutes I shall discuss the forces, or rather the &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
only organized force, that is opposing the — &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
American public school system. At this point &#13;
I desire only to show that this opposition by &#13;
the Roman Catholic hierarchy is aimed chiefly &#13;
at the idea of a Department of Education. That &#13;
is what they fear. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
You will remember that there was but little &#13;
activity in behalf of the Smith-Towner bill &#13;
during the Sixty-seventh Congress, because of &#13;
the pending measure to establish a Department &#13;
of Public Welfare, with Education only a &#13;
bureau in it. With respect to that situation, I &#13;
quote in part a letter, issued on May 4, 1921, &#13;
by the National Catholic Welfare Council, as &#13;
follows: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“It should further be noted that other measures are now &#13;
under consideration by the leaders in Congress which may &#13;
obviate the need of opposition to the Towner Bill Should &#13;
the McCormic Bill be passed and the Department of Public &#13;
Welfare be established, the Bureau of Education would &#13;
simply be’ transferred from the Department of the Interior &#13;
to the Department of Public Welfare; it would not be erected &#13;
into a seperate department. In that case, the situation &#13;
would practically be what it is at present.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
In other words, the heirarchy does not &#13;
oppose legislation that leaves matters as they &#13;
are, with a poor, powerless, undignified Bureau &#13;
of Education, instead of a Department of &#13;
Education which would at once and forever &#13;
suggest to every American that at last our &#13;
public schools had been given the recognition &#13;
and standing that should have been their &#13;
governmental position from the very beginning. &#13;
&#13;
Therefore, I say to you that this part of our &#13;
program is the all-important part; that there &#13;
must be no compromise upon this issue. &#13;
&#13;
When we have given public schools organic signifi- &#13;
cance, as the creation of a Department of Education &#13;
will do, while that belated act alone cannot at once &#13;
remedy the enervating results of one hundred and &#13;
thirty-five years of neglected duty, of wasted citizen- &#13;
ship, it will ease the national conscience and be &#13;
followed quickly by a new and constantly accelerat- &#13;
ing educational vigor throughout the Republic. It &#13;
will mark the beginning of a rising tide of common &#13;
intelligence, health, and virtue among both the native &#13;
and adopted sons and daughters of America. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Io &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Shameful Inadequacy Of Education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The indictment is that ‘‘the defects of educa- &#13;
tion are too numerous to catalog.’’ How much &#13;
more impossible is it to catalog the conse- &#13;
quences of those defects. When we face the &#13;
results of our inadequate public school system, &#13;
the situation becomes positively appalling. &#13;
&#13;
Each year, there is made for taxation, an &#13;
apptaisement of our material wealth. An &#13;
inventory, On as exact and scientific a scale, &#13;
of the much more vital human values has &#13;
never been attempted. It happened, however, &#13;
quite incidently, that the nation was per- &#13;
mitted to get a glimpse at the menacing after- &#13;
math of educational inadequacy. When our &#13;
young manhood was conscripted for service &#13;
in the great war, they were examined, mentally &#13;
and physically; tests were made and recorded; &#13;
the results are known. At least we may look &#13;
squarely at the terrible truth about our com- &#13;
posite humanity, and relate its degeneracy &#13;
directly to the failure of our school system. &#13;
&#13;
The census returns had been telling us that there &#13;
was six per cent illiteracy in America. The army &#13;
tests revealed that 20.9 per cent of the drafted men &#13;
were “unable to read and understand newspapers, &#13;
and write letters home in the English language.” &#13;
&#13;
Remember that a majority of those young &#13;
men were less than a decade removed from their &#13;
educational days. This evidence is of failure, &#13;
not remote, but almost immediately related to &#13;
the civilization-destroying inadequacies of the &#13;
present public school system. &#13;
&#13;
Today, in the United States, there is thirty &#13;
times as much absolute illiteracy as in Germany and &#13;
Denmark; there is twelve times as much illiteracy here &#13;
as in Switzerland; six times as much as in Norway &#13;
and Sweden; more than three times as much as in &#13;
England, Scotland and Wales. &#13;
&#13;
At the present rate of diminishment, it &#13;
would take eighty-four years to eliminate &#13;
illiteracy in this country, taking absolute &#13;
illiteracy figures, instead of the more depressing &#13;
army tests. If we accept the latter as a basis, &#13;
fully five hundred years would elapse before &#13;
illiteracy were stamped out of our national &#13;
life. &#13;
&#13;
There are in this country 2) aang &#13;
twenty-five million boys and girls of school age. &#13;
Were those of university years to be included, &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
It &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
the number would reach above thirty-three &#13;
million. In 1920, according to census statistics, &#13;
we had 23,042,637 children between the ages &#13;
of seven and seventeen. The grade and high &#13;
schools, then, should be providing the best of &#13;
educational opportunities for at least that &#13;
number. &#13;
&#13;
In 1920, 4,405,437, a total of nineteen per &#13;
cent of our children between the ages of seven &#13;
and seventeen, were not attending any school. &#13;
&#13;
At the ages of fourteen and fifteen, 20.1 per &#13;
cent were not in school. &#13;
&#13;
Among those sixteen and seventeen, 57.1 per &#13;
cent were not in any school. &#13;
&#13;
The teachers in the public schools of America &#13;
number 655,589. Fifty-four per cent of them &#13;
have not had normal school training. In the &#13;
rural schools, twenty-three per cent of these &#13;
teachers have had less than two years of educa- &#13;
tion above the elementary grades. Thousands &#13;
have had no training beyond the eighth grade. &#13;
&#13;
In the face of such facts, I maintain that no &#13;
citizen can oppose Democratic Education in &#13;
America unless he be an un-American enemy of &#13;
our institutions. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Hierarchy Opposing Democratic Education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
It is apparent, then, that from every point of &#13;
view, except that of selfishness, the educational &#13;
doctrine of Horace Mann should be written &#13;
into the laws and into the life of this nation. &#13;
Patriotism demands it, common sense sanctions &#13;
it, every consideration of individual and nation- &#13;
al welfare pleads its necessity. &#13;
&#13;
Why, then, has this fundamental program &#13;
not been adopted? &#13;
&#13;
It is because of the opposition of one of the oldest &#13;
and the most powerful special interests in the world &#13;
today. &#13;
&#13;
The hierarchy of the Roman Catholic church &#13;
stands against America on this issue. The &#13;
public school, in its every phase, atte and &#13;
result, is repugnant to the Pope and all his &#13;
priesthood. After a most thorough and un- &#13;
biased examination of the forces for and against &#13;
this program, I can say to you with absolute &#13;
certainty that, excepting only civic selfishness, &#13;
the Roman Catholic hierarchy is the one influence that &#13;
is successfully obstructing adequate public school edu- &#13;
cation in America. It is pursuing that course be- &#13;
cause the hierarchy that has both its govern- &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Iz &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
mental and religious headquarters at Rome is &#13;
now, always has been, and perhaps always &#13;
will be, opposed to the public sponsorship &#13;
of institutions of learning. From its point &#13;
of view, education is a prerogative of the &#13;
church. I¢ refuses to accept secular control or to &#13;
countenance any result that can or may subordinate &#13;
the recruitive objects of parochialism, ‘Therefore, &#13;
through its political power, this alien hierarchy &#13;
says to America: ‘‘You shall not establish an &#13;
educational system that sets up in that field an &#13;
exclusive authority higher than that of the &#13;
church; public schools shall not be legalized &#13;
into a standing superior to those of the church.’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The hierarchy does not openly, honestly and &#13;
frankly define its opposition or the objects of &#13;
that opposition. Instead it resorts to camou- &#13;
flage. What it really says to you is that our &#13;
educational program for America would be &#13;
unconstitutional; that national aid to public &#13;
schools would violate states’ rights; that such &#13;
a system as we menos would be attended by &#13;
bureaucratic and political perversions. What &#13;
the spokesmen of the Vatican in America really &#13;
mean is that the further advancement of demo- &#13;
cratic education within this Republic would be &#13;
an insurmountable impediment to the papal &#13;
dream of world wide temporal dominion. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
It is not possible to find a single intelligent &#13;
citizen, whatever his or her preferences, who &#13;
does not understand that the hierarchy is &#13;
unalterably opposing democratic education in &#13;
America. Therefore, in order more clearly to &#13;
&#13;
.comprehend the causes and effects of that op- &#13;
position, it will be well at this point squarely &#13;
to face the fundamental differences between &#13;
Catholicism and Protestantism. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Vatican For Church And State &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The hierarchy believes in the closest connec- &#13;
tion between church and state. We demand, &#13;
in the name and in the interest of democracy, &#13;
that they be completely separated. Through- &#13;
out the centuries this attitude of the Vatican &#13;
has never changed. It never will. With the &#13;
hierarchy, and all its priesthood, always the &#13;
church is the primary consideration. Even &#13;
today in America, a hundred and thirty-five &#13;
years after the adoption of our Constitution &#13;
had made it the basic law of the land that &#13;
government should not interfere with religion, &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Ly &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
nor religion with government, neither in the &#13;
pulpit nor in the press of Catholicism do you &#13;
ever find country mentioned apart from the &#13;
church. It is always ‘“‘church and country,” &#13;
with the ‘‘church’’ coming first. That is their &#13;
idea, not to have the church auxiliarate the &#13;
state, but to have civil authority and political &#13;
power serve the church. I do not criticise &#13;
those who adhere to that doctrine. I only &#13;
state the truth as it is, in the conviction, as &#13;
firmly founded as their opposing belief can &#13;
possibly be, that no religious organization can &#13;
even seek, much less attain, temporal character &#13;
without irreparable injury both to church and &#13;
state. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Church Control Of Education &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Throughout the domain of education, it is &#13;
the theory of the hierarchy, as it is their prac- &#13;
tice, to teach what to think. We desire that the &#13;
young be taught how to think, that they be &#13;
encouraged to delve deeper and deeper into all &#13;
the hidden mines of imformation, in the hope &#13;
and assurance that the result will be an ever- &#13;
increasing output of helpful human and divine &#13;
attainments; that it will bring, at least within &#13;
the range of possibility, a harmonizing of hu- &#13;
manity upon the rock of eternal truth; that &#13;
finally ‘“‘peace on earth, good will to men’’ may &#13;
become a glorious reality, to atone for the long &#13;
darkness of misery and strife. &#13;
&#13;
Not even in matters of religion does the &#13;
hierarchy encourage its subjects, either innocent &#13;
children or habituated adults, to exercise real &#13;
independence of thought or action. Bible- &#13;
reading by the laity is discouraged. I have &#13;
here a flippant and rather offensive reference to &#13;
this traditional attitude, by the Catholic News, &#13;
as follows: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“We Catholics have no apologies to make for our church's &#13;
Opposition to private interpretation of the Bible Every &#13;
Tom, Dick ans Harry isn’t allowed by the United States &#13;
Government to interpret the Constitution as he sees fit. &#13;
The U. S. Supreme Court says the Constitution means thus &#13;
and so. But no minister denounces Uncle Sam because of &#13;
that fact. And the Constitution of the United States is &#13;
much easier for the ordinary mortal to interpret than the &#13;
Bible. If Protestantism had a Supreme Court, there wouldn't &#13;
be so many varieties of religion among the brethern.”” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Catholics regard education as the prerogative &#13;
of their religion. We believe that the agencies &#13;
and objects of education should be publicly &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
14 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
sponsored and controlled; that the training of the &#13;
young is the first duty, the most fundamental function, &#13;
of the state. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Here is another statement of it: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“The Catholic church ... towers above the ages, &#13;
above nations, above men, mistress of all the forces of &#13;
education and morality.”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Those are the words of Clare Gerald Fenerty, &#13;
from an address before the Knights of Columbus &#13;
Dining Club at Philadelphia, as quoted in the &#13;
Catholic Standard and Times. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
There is something far beyond the ethical &#13;
and moral in the Catholic attitude. Just as the &#13;
hierarchy seeks political influence in order that &#13;
more recognition and greater benefits may &#13;
accrue to the church, so does it have an identical &#13;
motive in demanding church-controlled educa- &#13;
tion. Here it is, as given expression in the &#13;
magazine called Ave Maria: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Every Catholic school today means a dozen flourishing &#13;
parishes thirty years from today.”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The hierarchy, as a religious organization, &#13;
demands the temporal right to dominate &#13;
education, high and low, because that control &#13;
would facilitate the spread of its own sovereignty &#13;
in every country affected throughout the world. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The assertion of that attitude is tempered &#13;
only by the measure of its present power to &#13;
enforce it. The hierarchy in America today &#13;
does not make an open stand against all non- &#13;
religious instruction because it does not at this &#13;
time dare go to battle on that issue. What the &#13;
hierarchy does seek to accomplish, through &#13;
camouflage, is the prevention of any further &#13;
advancement of Beote school education and of &#13;
any curtailment of the privileges of parochial- &#13;
ism. With the first opportunity, having re- &#13;
cruited the necessary prestige and power, the &#13;
Catholic hierarchy of this country would de- &#13;
throne democratic education entirely. They &#13;
would do that here, as certainly as the process &#13;
is now going on in church-and-state countries. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Monarchist Idea &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
There is another fundamental difference, the &#13;
most basic of all. Catholicism is built and &#13;
maintains itself, in all its temporal and re- &#13;
ligious ramifications, upon the monarchical &#13;
idea of the individual as subject instead of &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
uy &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
citizen. The doctrine of democracy in its &#13;
every relation to humanity is exactly the re- &#13;
verse. It exalts the individual, clothing him &#13;
and her with all the attributes of sovereignty, &#13;
culminating in civilization’s greatest glory, her &#13;
only final, unfailing safeguard, “‘the consent of &#13;
the governed”’ inal] that pertains to public affairs. &#13;
Every theory, every condition, every hope, of &#13;
democracy centers in the development of the &#13;
individual, the sum total of which shall be &#13;
social strength, intelligence and morality. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Certainly, civilization cannot advance, nor even &#13;
continue its present influence, tf this nation, the most &#13;
important of all the universe, shall countenance any &#13;
departure, socially and governmentally, from the basic &#13;
principles of the individual as citizen instead of &#13;
subject. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Here is the issue. Public school education is &#13;
democratic education. The fight against that system &#13;
is being waged by and for Catholic parochialism, &#13;
which is the essence of monarchy. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Fundamental American Principles On Trial &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
How is it possible for any parochial power &#13;
to obstruct public schools in America? The &#13;
answer goes deep—to the very vitals of our &#13;
institutions. The truth, terrible and terrifying, &#13;
is that our institutions have not yet been solidly &#13;
and lastingly established. The basic principles &#13;
of Americanism are yet on trial. The failure to &#13;
provide, adequately and democratically, for public &#13;
school education lies not so much in the strength of the &#13;
opposition as in our own national weakness. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
God knows that the cause of education, &#13;
standing alone, is sufficient to justify a life and &#13;
death struggle with the hierarchical elements &#13;
antagonizing its attainments; but this contro- &#13;
versy involves other fundamentals: Our triumph &#13;
over parochialism and propaganda must include &#13;
other and even more fundamental vanquishments. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
In the present crises we are confronted by &#13;
conditions, rather than theories. Theoretically, &#13;
at the very beginning, this nation safeguarded &#13;
its institutions through the separation of church &#13;
and state. Actually that was never accomplished. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The pioneers who made America had before &#13;
them the tragic consequences of church control &#13;
of government. They, at least their immediate &#13;
ancestors, knew from personal experience the &#13;
perils and persecutions of religious controversy. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
16 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
They saw clearly the fateful truth that religious &#13;
warfare was always the culminating result &#13;
whenever and wherever a powerful church left &#13;
the spiritual field and entered the governmental. &#13;
They knew that every temporal invasion by a &#13;
religious organization had invariably left a &#13;
blood-stained trail of selfishness, cruelty and &#13;
oppression. &#13;
&#13;
Therefore, in founding this Republic, they &#13;
intended that there should not be, then or ever, &#13;
any religious interference with government, &#13;
nor any governmental interference with religion. &#13;
Somehow, the emphasis came to be placed upon &#13;
the second, leaving the first more a matter of &#13;
implication. &#13;
&#13;
The Constitution provided for the utmost &#13;
religious freedom, which was wise and just; &#13;
it did not however, in specific, iron-clad &#13;
language, guard against religious license in &#13;
the field of government. It was no mote, &#13;
and no less, the intention to do one than the &#13;
other; but the fact remains that the basic law &#13;
was left too open, too much subject to abuse, &#13;
with respect to churchly encroachments upon &#13;
sovereignty. For generations, little harm re- &#13;
sulted. Now, suddenly, after half a century of &#13;
unperceived growth, the un-American power &#13;
that developed out of the one-sided freedom &#13;
has arisen to curse and confound our efforts in &#13;
behalf of democratic education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
In other words, we have not yet brought about the &#13;
separation of church and state in this country. If &#13;
you want proof, undisputable, unimpeachable &#13;
proof, it exists inthe fact that today, there is a &#13;
parochial power that can, and does, say to the &#13;
electors and legislators of America: ‘“Thus far &#13;
shall you go, and no farther on this issue of &#13;
education. Propaganda and propagation through &#13;
schools, are prerogatives of Pope and _ priest- &#13;
hood. Public welfare is subordinate to the &#13;
temporal interests of the hierarchy.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I say to you then,—I say to all America— &#13;
that the winning of this fight for democratic &#13;
education involves vastly more than the im- &#13;
mediate result of such a victory. Standing &#13;
between us and that achievement is the re- &#13;
actionary, repulsive principle of church and &#13;
state, the civilization-destroying, war-engen- &#13;
dering power of church over state. The very &#13;
idea, and every influence, of that alignment &#13;
must be broken and buried beyond resurrection. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
17 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
a &#13;
ft &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
In and around, above and below, this question &#13;
is the Vatican attitude fo superhuman, super- &#13;
national sovereignty. To that extent the cause &#13;
of democratic education is inseparably linked &#13;
with the issue of church and state. Both &#13;
battles must be fought, and won, together. &#13;
&#13;
Otherwise all our efforts for an adequate public &#13;
school system will be transient and futile. &#13;
&#13;
The only soil in which free schools can flourish is &#13;
that of a strictly American sovereignty, tilled by an &#13;
undivided allegiance, watered by a patriotism that is &#13;
undiluted and undefiled, with the sunshine of &#13;
democracy always and forever shining upon it. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Its Larger Meaning To Democracy &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
But that is not all. In this crucial struggle &#13;
for the Horace Mann kind and quantity of &#13;
public school education, we are fighting a &#13;
battle bigger even than for the final separation &#13;
of church and state. Democracy itself, the very &#13;
life of Constitutional government, is at stake. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I do not need to remind you that every great &#13;
misfortune that comes to humanity is followed, &#13;
immediately, by monstrous perversions of power. &#13;
Let democracy’s resistance to evil be weakened &#13;
by any far-reaching calamity, and in that &#13;
moment the ever alert forces of reaction will &#13;
spring upon it, seeking the selfish results of &#13;
oppression and enslavement. It matters not &#13;
in what form or in whose name the assault is &#13;
made. Whether the agency be priestly or political, &#13;
democracy must pay the price. &#13;
&#13;
Today, in the wake of the great war, with &#13;
its terrible toll of death and debt, again do we &#13;
hear the voice of imperialism shouting that &#13;
democracy has failed, that democracy is reced- &#13;
ing, that its epitaph may now be written, &#13;
because its end is near. Sometimes that voice &#13;
is the voice of industrialism. Sometimes it is &#13;
the voice of ruling caste power; sometimes it &#13;
is the voice of the Vatican; but whether it &#13;
be predatory, political or ecclesiastical, always &#13;
that voice is attuned to the same shrill, snarling &#13;
key of special interest. &#13;
&#13;
My voice is small, but it is an American &#13;
voice, and so far as it may reach, I would have &#13;
it carry to America and to all the world the &#13;
message that democracy is not dead, nor is Constitu- &#13;
tional government, based on ‘“‘the consent of the &#13;
governed,’ going to die. NWHumanity, especially &#13;
our humanity, will—it must—triumph over &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
18 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
‘every obstruction to the great and final accom- &#13;
‘plishment of freedom and justice. There can be &#13;
‘no freedom, nor justice, if the powers of privilege &#13;
in any form predominate. Our people them- &#13;
‘selves must safeguard their sovereignty and &#13;
‘employ it for the common welfare. &#13;
_ The great issue in this conflict with paroch- &#13;
ialism, then, is not alone the question of &#13;
building our composite people into the highest &#13;
‘social and political efficiency, nor of that &#13;
accomplishment plus the safeguarding of our &#13;
institutions through the actual SH ees of &#13;
church and state. To the doctrine of democratic &#13;
‘education and the principle of a religious freedom &#13;
that works both ways, must be added the cause &#13;
of civilization itself. &#13;
The eternal right of mankind to self-govern- &#13;
ment is being challenged throughout the world. &#13;
If the military forces of an alien power were to &#13;
enter America, we would repel them with the &#13;
last ounce of our common strength. But it is a &#13;
more subtle, more effective, more menacing &#13;
alien invasion that we are facing—an invasion &#13;
of military un-democratic ideas and ideals—a &#13;
slow, sure assault upon Constitutional govern- &#13;
ment. &#13;
&#13;
There is but one unfailing defense against &#13;
every kind of alienism in America; it lies in &#13;
adequate, democratic, public school education. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Vatican A Government &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
We must face the ugly and menacing fact &#13;
that the hierarchy seeking the uses and results &#13;
of propaganda in our schools is not alone a &#13;
religious, but also a governmental organization. &#13;
&#13;
The Vatican itself has a governmental char- &#13;
acter. At this moment twenty-seven nations &#13;
have duly accredited diplomatic representatives &#13;
at the Holy See, seven of them bearing the title &#13;
and rank of ambassador. And more are to &#13;
follow. &#13;
&#13;
What does all this mean to America? &#13;
&#13;
Particularly, what bearing does it have upon &#13;
this present all-important issue of education? &#13;
&#13;
I can tell you what the hierarchy does to &#13;
education, and out of the mouth of Catholicism &#13;
itself. Current History, for January, publishes a &#13;
laudatory article on Mussolini’s regime in Italy, &#13;
by Arnold S. Cortesi, Rome correspondent of &#13;
the New York Times, accompanied by pictures &#13;
of the Premier and the Pope, from which I quote: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
uy) &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“The most sweeping reforms of all have, perhaps, been &#13;
made by the Ministry of Public Instruction. The number of &#13;
schools has been reduced by suppressing those which became &#13;
superfluous in towns which have lost population in recent &#13;
years. The curriculum has been revised in such a way that each” &#13;
school, in addition to preparing the student for the next grade &#13;
school, also supplies him with a complete education, should he &#13;
decide to interrupt his studies at any given moment. Formerly his &#13;
education was not complete until he had finished his course &#13;
at a university. Religious education has also been made com- &#13;
pulsory; not only has the crucifix been ordered to be displayed in all &#13;
schools, but religious education must also be imparted by teachers &#13;
who have the approval of the ecclesiastical authorities . . . The &#13;
reform which has given rise, however, to the greatest con- &#13;
troversy has been the limitation of the number of students &#13;
who can receive free education at the expense of the state. &#13;
Not only has the number been limited, but also the number of &#13;
students who may attend each school, a minimum of thirty- &#13;
five for each class having been fixed If there are more &#13;
applicants than vacancies, the best students are selected &#13;
through competitive examination, the remainder being left &#13;
free to attend private schools. The principle underlying &#13;
this reform has been this: Formerly, when any one could &#13;
obtain free education, thousands of young men who would &#13;
have made excellent carpenters, plumbers or manual workers &#13;
of any kind, obtained degrees in law, medicine, or engineer- &#13;
ing, and then wasted their whole lives, because, having a &#13;
university degree, they considered it below their dignity to &#13;
return to manual labor, while they were, at the same time, &#13;
unable to obtain employment in their profession, owing to &#13;
the steady stream of graduates being turned out of the &#13;
universities each year The state, therefore, has decided &#13;
that only those students shall obtain free education who, &#13;
hrough competitive examination, show that they are worth &#13;
educating, leaving the rest to pay the fees demanded by &#13;
private schools. This reform, a course, does not apply to &#13;
elementary schools; indeed, the law making it obligatory &#13;
for every child to attend elementary school is being applied &#13;
more strictly than ever before.”’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Of course, what they call ‘‘this reform” &#13;
does not apply to elementary schools. The &#13;
hierarchy desires above all else that every &#13;
elementary pupil shall be taught Catholicism. &#13;
Therefore it imposes compulsory attendance &#13;
upon the youngest boys and girls. Also it &#13;
provides an obligatory religious curriculum &#13;
for all such pupils. An article printed in &#13;
the Catholic World, gives a summary of that &#13;
curriculum for preparatory and all elementary &#13;
grades. It is too long for insertion here, but &#13;
its meaning and influences are apparent. &#13;
&#13;
Observe, now, how that church controlled &#13;
education is operating at this moment in Italy. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Number of Free Schools Has Been Reduced &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Each school has been made complete in itself. In- &#13;
stead of encouraging high and higher education, &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
20 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
he Vatican thus virtually invites every student &#13;
to end it all whenever a grade is finished. &#13;
_ Free school attendance has been restricted. Why? &#13;
_ To discourage the training of young men who &#13;
might better be ‘‘carpenters and plumbers.”’ &#13;
| Do I need to ask how, in God’s name, is it &#13;
‘possible to peer into the future and determine &#13;
‘both the capacity and the career of any boy &#13;
‘ever born? Would democratic America tolerate &#13;
any such civilization-destroying injustice to her &#13;
Mext generation or continue to countenance any &#13;
‘influence that would sponsor such a monstrous &#13;
‘perversion of opportunity? No, instead, we de- &#13;
mand that the advantages of education be universal; &#13;
that no caste, class or creed be excluded. &#13;
| Teachers, in Italy, are approved by the ecclesias- &#13;
tical authorities. Why? In order that the minds &#13;
of the young shall be bent and biased by and &#13;
toward Catholicism. It can have no other &#13;
purpose. That is what church control means. &#13;
here parochialism is nationalized, which is &#13;
‘the ultimate aim of parochialism everywhere. &#13;
‘The hierarchy believes in its own exclusive right &#13;
|to ascendency, why should it not seek here the &#13;
‘educational situation that has now come to pass &#13;
in Italy? And having made parochialism a public &#13;
policy, why is it not equally logical for them, &#13;
as they are doing, to employ parochialism for &#13;
‘purposes of propaganda? &#13;
_ Church, parochialism, propaganda, politics—there &#13;
you have the complete circle of cause and effect in the &#13;
whole field of this discussion. Through parochial- &#13;
ism the church accomplishes propaganda, and &#13;
‘the two together—ecclesiastically controlled &#13;
schools, teaching the supremacy of the hier- &#13;
archy—lead directly, through politics, to tem- &#13;
poral power. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Ecclesiastical Legislation’’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Sentinel of the Blessed Sacrament, a catholic &#13;
publication, quotes a person whom it calls the &#13;
Venerable Peter Julian Eymard, as follows: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“The Christian, therefore, owes to Canon Law, to the &#13;
bulls, decrees and decisions of the Holy Roman church, &#13;
which are but the law, the teaching of the Sovereign Pontiff, &#13;
a filial obedience beyond all control by the civil authorities, &#13;
who in this regard are without force or sanction "’ &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Read that again, because, it expresses, as you &#13;
and I must learn, the attitude of the hierarchy &#13;
towards governments the world over. &#13;
&#13;
Applied to this nation, it means that when- &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
21 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
a &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
4 &#13;
ever and wherever the sovereign people of the &#13;
United States, by constitutionally established &#13;
processes, through duly elected representatives, &#13;
enact any statute in conflict with any “bull, &#13;
decree or decision of the Sovereign Pontiff’’— &#13;
who is the Pope—that the Catholics of America &#13;
are ordered by the Vatican to disregard that &#13;
law. In all such conflicts of legal enactment &#13;
and papal decree, their allegience 1s to Rome. &#13;
They are instructed to set against our soverignty &#13;
a higher and to them, more important, more &#13;
omnipotent alien sovereignty. Yet we have &#13;
boasted, and believed, for nearly a century and &#13;
a half, that the separation of church and state &#13;
had actually been accomplished in this country. &#13;
&#13;
Our Constitution provides for religious free- &#13;
dom. As one result of that feature of the bill &#13;
of right, we did not insist exclusively upon &#13;
church marriage ceremonies; civil marriages &#13;
were made the law of the land. To Catholicism &#13;
and all its subjects that law is null and void. &#13;
To them it is wholly without “‘force or sanc- &#13;
tion.’’ Time after time has gone forth the papal &#13;
or priestly decree to ignore it, and today, to &#13;
them every American child born of a civilly &#13;
made marriage is illigitimate. &#13;
&#13;
This attitude is by no means confined to the &#13;
marriage statute. It is the same with anything &#13;
and everything of a legal nature that may come &#13;
under papal displeasure. The Catholic maga- &#13;
zine called America, makes this announcement &#13;
to American followers of the Pope: &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
“Whatever may be affected by public enactment with &#13;
regard to the rights of men and women before the law, no &#13;
Catholic is free to admit any legislation which tends to destroy the &#13;
center of authority in the home.” &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Why is no Catholic ‘“‘free to admit’’—and of &#13;
course to abide by—legislative acts of the &#13;
government of the United States? There is &#13;
only one answer. It is because his higher &#13;
allegiance is to a religious hierarchy, not even &#13;
American in domicile, whose alien decrees can &#13;
set aside all laws as easily as one law. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I say to you that without law and order &#13;
neither private nor public welfare is possible. &#13;
When established authority be undermined, &#13;
then the very foundations of society will &#13;
crumble. Only our government itself has the &#13;
right to say that this law or that law is null &#13;
and void, by repealing it or by establishing its &#13;
unconstitutionality. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
79 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
| &#13;
For any law to be ignored, either by priest or &#13;
| politician, breeds a spirit of lawlessness, a con- &#13;
tempt for constituted authority which is civili- &#13;
-zation’s deadliest enemy, against which no &#13;
mation can long contend and endure. The Supreme &#13;
Court of the United States is at Washington, and not &#13;
in Rome. &#13;
No government can become imperialistic &#13;
without ultimate disaster to itself and to every &#13;
and it brings under subjection. That is the &#13;
verdict of history, to which there has never &#13;
_been an exception. The imperialism of a church &#13;
‘is even worse. When a religion attains and &#13;
“exercises temporal dominion, castatrophe for &#13;
all concerned is more swift and sure. That is &#13;
|what I condemn—not the American Catholic &#13;
‘citizen, but the Roman Catholic hierarchy. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
For centuries education was almost exclusively &#13;
church controlled. Practically no other educa- &#13;
tion existed. That was the period of the great &#13;
religious wars. Religious education and re- &#13;
ligious warfare were simultaneous. Never in &#13;
&#13;
all the annals of mankind was cause and effect &#13;
&#13;
more closely related or more clearly defined. &#13;
&#13;
_ It made no difference whether it was Cathol- &#13;
&#13;
icism or Protestantism that had aggressively &#13;
or in self defense thus usurped this function of &#13;
thestate. Always it led directly and inevitably &#13;
to civil strife and martial conflict. No religious &#13;
Organization ever has or ever can dominate &#13;
education without an aftermath of disruptive &#13;
strife. &#13;
&#13;
The degree to which the religious influence &#13;
prevails in schools will determine, invariably &#13;
and inevitably, the extent of the resulting &#13;
disturbance for humanity. &#13;
&#13;
I do not for a moment contend that America &#13;
will ever submit to a degree of church control &#13;
of education which would lead to the battle &#13;
field, but I do say, with the tragic experiences &#13;
of centuries supporting me, that each and every &#13;
bit of ground gained by and for parochialism &#13;
in our schools will dilute truth, diminish democracy &#13;
and feed the flames of destructive controversy exactly &#13;
in proportion to the extent of that influence. &#13;
&#13;
In the last century and a half religious educa- &#13;
tion has declined. Simultaneously religious &#13;
wats have disappeared. That is why I attach &#13;
such paramount importance to this fight for &#13;
democratic education. ‘‘The national safety, &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
5 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
prosperity and happiness’’—and peace—can be &#13;
safeguarded in no other way. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
I know that if, throughout the ages, there &#13;
had been adequate education—public school &#13;
-education—conducted upon a plane high above &#13;
propaganda, ninety per cent of the miseries &#13;
and misfortunes that have befallen humanity &#13;
would have been averted. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
And, likewise, as we are Christian citizens, &#13;
seeking the highest harmony and happiness for &#13;
all humanity, we must unabatingly and un- &#13;
compromisingly combat every other kind of &#13;
propaganda in our schools. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
War is the great curse of mankind. War &#13;
always has its origin in religion, racial or &#13;
economic causes. Unless the world again &#13;
embraces the fatal folly of religious education, &#13;
church conflict will remain in its grave. To &#13;
bar parochialism and leave the gates ajar to the &#13;
teaching of racialism or industrialism, will not &#13;
insure peace. That blessing will never be &#13;
seein until education is completely and &#13;
everlastingly emancipated from every prejudice &#13;
and every selfishness. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
Let Americans Get Together &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
This country contains no element that will not be &#13;
richly and increasingly benefitted by the development &#13;
of public schools, nor any element that will not be &#13;
injured, financially, socially, and Spiritually, &#13;
through a failure to adopt such a program. All &#13;
that being true, and it is true beyond dispute, &#13;
every element in America, Protestant and Catholic, &#13;
should stop fighting each other and unite for the &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
accomplishment of a correct and adequate public &#13;
school system. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
There are hierarchies and political systems, &#13;
of alien character and alien domicile, which &#13;
would not profit by democratic education in &#13;
America. They are not of, by, nor for, America. &#13;
I speak not of them when I voice the hope and &#13;
prayer that the entire citizenship of the United &#13;
States may get together and labor together for &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
ie fulfillment of humanity's highest happiness &#13;
efe. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
My condemnation has been of the political system &#13;
of the Roman Catholic church, not of its parish- &#13;
toners, nor of their religion. It is the hierarchy, not &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
the rank and file of Catholicism, whose attitude I &#13;
disapprove. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
24 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
There is no feeling of intolerance, nor any &#13;
hatred, in my soul. I speak not in bitterness, &#13;
but out of love. I would that America might &#13;
‘be at peace. We and the world have seen &#13;
enough of religious wrangling and warfare. &#13;
At least in this country there need be no further &#13;
conflict. I say this to you because Protestant &#13;
and Catholic have identically the same in- &#13;
_terests at stake, and should be found fighting &#13;
shoulder to shoulder for the re-Americanization &#13;
*of our common Republic. All Americans are men &#13;
&#13;
and women whose days upon earth are far too short &#13;
to be spent in any save the ways of amity and mutual &#13;
helpfulness. The common enemies of mankind &#13;
are sufficient to keep us all engaged. Let there be &#13;
at least one nation within which humanity may &#13;
attain and enjoy a blessed harmony of heart and mind. . &#13;
Humbly, and yet confidently, because the &#13;
combined experience of mankind throughout &#13;
the ages confirms both its soundness and its &#13;
necessity, I now make a Christian proposal for &#13;
the ending of religious and all other disruptive &#13;
controversies on American soil. &#13;
Let us establish a court for the settlement of &#13;
every case of falsehood and fallacy versus truth &#13;
and rectitude. In that court let every element &#13;
submit its opposition to the test and verdict of &#13;
unselfish truth. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
It would take time to establish such a court, &#13;
but once it was in operation there would be no &#13;
delay nor any injustice in its judgments. &#13;
&#13;
A generation would be required to impanel &#13;
&#13;
the jury. That jury would be the electorate &#13;
of the whole country, not one of whom would &#13;
be permitted to serve until his or her complete &#13;
competence had been attested by a training in &#13;
which neither bias nor selfishness had had a &#13;
&#13;
_ part. Once the common mind of such a jury &#13;
had been emancipated from every influence of &#13;
prejudice and propaganda, its decisions would &#13;
&#13;
_ be divinely just. There would come out of it &#13;
&#13;
anew kind of jurisprudence, so generally ac- &#13;
cepted that within a few decades all our human- &#13;
ity might live in harmony. &#13;
&#13;
I propose, then, that all of us, Catholic and &#13;
Protestant, submit our differences to democratic &#13;
education; that is, a public school system in &#13;
which the mind of each and every student shall &#13;
not be bent and biased by any propaganda,— &#13;
industrial, economic, political, or religious. &#13;
Truth would come out of such a system—‘‘the &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
° 25 &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
whole truth and nothing but the truth.” &#13;
Factionalism and strife would disappear, be- &#13;
cause there would be no half truth and perverted &#13;
truth to give them abortive birth. &#13;
&#13;
After all, education is but the means to an end. &#13;
In a higher sense, democracy is but the means &#13;
to an end. In the highest sense, civilization &#13;
itself is but the means to an end. That end is &#13;
the triumph of truth, God’s truth and man’s &#13;
truth, out of which alone can come the Heavenly &#13;
blessing of a harmonized humanity here on &#13;
earth. &#13;
&#13;
America Must Leap Tae Way. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
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              <text>97-84165-11 &#13;
&#13;
Rose, Laura Martin &#13;
Ku Klux Klan &#13;
&#13;
West Point, IVIiss. &#13;
&#13;
[1909] &#13;
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&#13;
MASTER NEGATIVE # &#13;
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COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES &#13;
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Box 733 Rose, Mrs. S E • P &#13;
&#13;
The Ku Klux klan, by litrs. S, E, F, Rose. &#13;
iVfest -Point* Miss., 1909] &#13;
8 p« &#13;
&#13;
Paper read during 13th annual convention of &#13;
thi Mississippi division, tftiited daughters of &#13;
the Confederacy* held in West Point, Hiss • , &#13;
Ifey 4*9« 1909 « &#13;
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KU &#13;
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KLUX &#13;
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This paper was read on Historical Evening, May 5, 1909, during the thirteenUi annual con- &#13;
vention of the Mississippi Division. United Daughters of the Confederacy, held in West Point, &#13;
MIsSm May 4-9, 1909. A resolution was passed by the Division authorizing: its publication in &#13;
booklet form, to be sold and the proceeds to go to the erection of a monument at Beauvoir, Miss* &#13;
(tiie home of Jefferson Davis) to the memory of Confederate veterans. • &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
The Ku Klux Klan &#13;
&#13;
" BY - &#13;
&#13;
MRS. S. E. ROSE, HISTORIAN MISS., DIVISION U. D. C &#13;
&#13;
The "Ku Klux Klaa"— the very name holds one spellbound. It &#13;
&#13;
is strange, weird, mysterious, fascinating. Formed from the Greek &#13;
word Kuklos — meaning a circle — the name was prophetic of the great &#13;
mission of the Klan, for it indeed formed a circle of protection around &#13;
the homes and women of the South and brought them through the daric &#13;
shadows of Reconstruction days, safe and unharmed. Lst us think, &#13;
then, of the Ku Klux Klan as a great circle of light, illuminated with &#13;
deeds of love and patriotism, and holding within its protecting and &#13;
shining circlet the very life and welfare of our beloved Southland. &#13;
&#13;
It is for the sake of the home that almost all things are wrought &#13;
and achieved. It was the home instinct that prompted the valiant Vir- &#13;
ginians, the persistent Puritans and the determined Dutch to dare the &#13;
waves of an unknown and uncharted sea and come to America where &#13;
they hoped to find an opportunity fxsit the estab&amp;hment of that for which &#13;
their hearts yearned — a home; Upon these sacred principles — love and &#13;
protection of home — was founded the Ku Klux Klan, and no organiza- &#13;
tion ever held loftier ideas or nobler purposes. It was composed of the &#13;
soldiers of the Confederacy, who, for four years, had thrilled tiie world &#13;
with their deeds of courage and valor, and returning to their desolated &#13;
homes, were forced to confront the war penalty imposed upon the states &#13;
of the Confederacy — slave confiscation and reconstruction under African &#13;
rule. &#13;
&#13;
In the midst of this dark drama, we behold a ray of light, the star &#13;
of hope gleams again through the clouds, by which it had been obscur* &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
2 &#13;
&#13;
ed. The Ku KIux Klan, the great, s2ent organization of the '60% ap- &#13;
pears upon the scene with its avowed purpose, to preserve and uphold &#13;
the white civilization of the South. It was a creation born of necessi- &#13;
tous times, of puse and patriotic icopulses, and to relieve a dire and &#13;
humiliating distress. The Ku Klux Klan has been justly called the salr &#13;
vation of the South and its history should be written in letters of light. &#13;
It has been said that the methods of the Night Riders are similar to &#13;
those of the Ku Klux Klan, but never was anything more erroneous. &#13;
There is no similarity except, perhaps, the secrecy, the moving at night &#13;
and the masked figures, and there it ends. The methods of the Ku &#13;
Klux Klan were generally peaceful and without undue destruction to &#13;
life and pi«V&gt;erty, and when its object had been accomplished, there &#13;
was no pexsecution, nor pnllaging, nor hounding of any one. And when &#13;
tranquillity was restored to the land, the Elian ^^fdded their tents like &#13;
the Arabs, and as silently stole away." &#13;
&#13;
Many outrages were committed in the name of the Ku Klux by &#13;
parties who did not belong to the Klan; reckless firebiands, with private &#13;
hatreds to appease, and having the audacity to call themselves Ku Klux. &#13;
Thus the impression was made that the Ku Klux were a set of vicious &#13;
men with no regard for la* or order; but these outrages were committed &#13;
by bands of thieving scalawags, who used the name as a cloak for their &#13;
evil deeds. No genuine Ku Klux would have been guilty of a deed or &#13;
an act that would bring the blush of shame to any brave or honorable &#13;
man. They belonged to the best class of citizens, once soldiers of the &#13;
Confederacy, who had only the best interests of society in view, and &#13;
would scorn to do a mean or cowardly act. Noching in connection &#13;
with the war, or rather the period at the close of the war known as Re- &#13;
construction days, is of greater interest than the Ku Klux Klan. Its &#13;
mystery was so fascinating that stories of this great organization were al- &#13;
ways listened to with eagoness and dehght. Those delightful books, &#13;
'The Clansman/' and its sequel, "The Traitor," given us by Thomas &#13;
J, Dixon, have a most intense and thrilling interest. "The Clansman" &#13;
places before us the real Klan, with its high and noble purposes and &#13;
shows the great good accompUshed by them, while "The Traitor," in &#13;
striking contrast, shows the bogus Klan and its many evil deeds, which &#13;
inspired such a reign of terror. Since these books have been dramatized &#13;
and presented in so many places, renewed interest has been awakened &#13;
and a deep impression has been made on the minds and the hearts of &#13;
the people, and they have done much to clear the atmosphere of the &#13;
many false stories told of the Ku Klux. In the play, the white robes &#13;
of ths original Klan, and the red robes of the spurious Klan leave a &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
3 &#13;
&#13;
deep, vivid and lasting impression. The colors were deeply significant* &#13;
White, the symbol of purity, was most appropriate for the real Klan, &#13;
organized to protect the homes and liberties of the South, while red, &#13;
always the badge of bloodshed, anarchy and disorder, was most fitting &#13;
for the bogus Klan, whose deeds were disgraceful and villainous. &#13;
&#13;
There are many conflicting statements in regard to the origin of &#13;
the Ku Klux Klan. It has been stated that General N. Forrest was &#13;
the originator, but this is a mistake. The Klan had been in existence &#13;
nearly a year, and had spread so rapidly it embraced nearly the whole &#13;
South, so a leader was looked for, and all eyes were turned to the hero &#13;
soldier, who had so gallantly led the brave men of the South — General &#13;
Nathan Bedford Forrest— and he was made Grand Wizard of the Invisi- &#13;
ble Empire. Gen, George W, Gordon of Memphis, prepared the oath &#13;
and ritual for the Klan. &#13;
&#13;
It seemed to me that nothing could be more interesting or more &#13;
valuable in order to preserve the facts for history than to have the story &#13;
of the organization from the lips of the survivors themselves. There are &#13;
now livmg only two of the little band of six Confederate soldiers, who, in &#13;
the little town of Pulaski, Tenn., in the winter of '65 and '66, organ- &#13;
ized the order of the Ku Klux Klan. These two are Maj. Jas. R. Crowe, &#13;
of Sheffield, Ala., and Mr. John B. Kennedy, of Lawrenceburg, Tenn. &#13;
I have letters from each of them, and will read them, giving the words &#13;
from their own pens; which is certainly the truth of histt&gt;ry. Beiort &#13;
reading the letters, I will say a few words about the little town which &#13;
formed the setting for this great order, Pulaski, Tenn. I will quote &#13;
from Senator Bob Taylor in his famous speech before the Tennessee &#13;
Society in New York in 1907: ''When the Lord banished the gmlty &#13;
-psix from Paradise and closed the jasper gates behind them, loth to de- &#13;
stroy its beauties, he transferred them all to Tennessee. The foot of &#13;
man never trod the sod of any spot of earth where purer fountains gem &#13;
the hills and brighter streams, falling from loftier heights, wind their &#13;
shining way through greens, sweeter vales. The sun of l^ven never &#13;
shone upon a foirer land or a nobler people. It is said that Tennesseans &#13;
never sing 'There is a better land,' for they do notbeheve there is one." &#13;
I will state ju^t here that I am proud that my native town, Pulaski, &#13;
Temi., was the birthplace of the splendid organization that bore the &#13;
name ^'The Ku Klux Klan." The letters are as follows: &#13;
&#13;
Sheffield, Ala., Oct. 25, 1908. &#13;
&#13;
Mrs. Laura Martin Rose, &#13;
&#13;
My dear Madam: Your letter in regard to the origin and object of &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
4 &#13;
&#13;
the Ku Klux Klan was received in due time. It affords me pleasure to &#13;
eompiy with your request. I am glad td see the U, D. C. taking so &#13;
much interest in getting a correct history of the eventful days of '61 to &#13;
&#13;
'65. You would, no doubt, be surprised to know the number of letters &#13;
I receive from various parts of our country in regard to the Ku Klux &#13;
Klan. ^e order was orig^uuzedin Pulaski, Tenn., in the winter of &#13;
1865 and '66 in the office of Majcn* Thomas M. Jones, by the following &#13;
named men, all of whom had honorable records as Confederate soldiers: &#13;
Richard R. Reed, John B. Kennedy, John C. Lester, Frank O. McCord, &#13;
Calvin Jones and James R. Crowe. &#13;
&#13;
Frank O* McCord was the first Grand Cyclops, I was the next offi' &#13;
&#13;
cer in rank, which was Grand Turk. We held several meetings at the &#13;
office of Judge Jones; then we held several meetings at the home of your &#13;
gfandHfather, Mr« Thomas Martin. Afterwards our regular den was nude &#13;
in the old residence of Dr. Benjamin Carter. The house had been &#13;
wrecked by a tornado, only one room left and that was hidden by the &#13;
debris of the large building. The house was supposed to be haunted. &#13;
This served our purpose well, as we played upon the superstitious and &#13;
made them believe we were the spirits of dead Confederates. The word &#13;
Ku Klux was coined by us. We chose the Greek word for circle — Ku- &#13;
klos, as the name of our circle and afterwards called it Ku Klux, then &#13;
added Klan, and made it from that day historical. The younger gener- &#13;
ation wiU never fully realize the risk we ran and sacrifices we made to &#13;
free our beloved Southland from the hated rule of the **carpetbagger," &#13;
the worse negro and the home Yankee. Thank God, our work was re- &#13;
warded by complete success. ^ After the order grew to large numbers, &#13;
we found it was neces^oy to have some one of large experience to com-* &#13;
mand. We chose Gen. N. B« Forrest, who had joined our number. &#13;
He was made a member and took the oath in room number ten of the &#13;
Maxwell House at Nashville, Tenn., in the fall of 1866, nearly a year &#13;
after we organized at Pulaski. The oath was administered to him by &#13;
Capt. John W. Morton, aftexwuds Secretary of State, Nashville, Tenn. &#13;
There is only one besides myself of the original six who organized the &#13;
Ku Klux Klan, Mr. John B. Kennedy, of Lawrenceburg, Tenn. If you &#13;
will write to him he could give you more information. Trusting the &#13;
sketch I have given will help you in your work, I am, &#13;
&#13;
Sncerely, your friend, &#13;
&#13;
James R. Crowe. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
5 &#13;
&#13;
Lawrenceburg, Tenn,, March 15, 1909. &#13;
&#13;
Mrs. S. E. F. Rose, &#13;
&#13;
Dear Madam: Ycur kmd letter reached me yesteidi^, and I hasten &#13;
to reply, for we oU Ku Klux appreciate any interest manifested in our &#13;
order. The Ku Klux Klans were composed of the very best citizens of &#13;
our country; their mission was to protect the weak and oppressed during &#13;
the dark days of reconstructicHi- To protect the women of the South, &#13;
who were the lovcUcst, most noble and best women in the world. The &#13;
survivors ate all old men now, old with their memories of other days &#13;
long past, to cheer them during life's twiUght. They are proud they &#13;
were "Ku Klux and could give aid to those dear Southern women again &#13;
during the reconstruction period, for it was a dark and distressing era &#13;
in our beloved Southland* We did nothing to make us ashamed; our &#13;
acts were always for the good of our countiy and those we loved. After &#13;
the lapse of all these years, the survivors of the Ku Klux Klan are gra^ &#13;
ified to hear the verdict of many who say to us, ' WeU done; you un- &#13;
doubtedly saved the beautiful Southland durmg the reconstruction era." &#13;
It is pleasing to us, for we did our duty as we saw it then; we are grate^ &#13;
ful for the kind appreciation and mterest &lt;rf our people now- F^on &#13;
me for speaking once again of the- dear. Southern women, the heroines, &#13;
who so bravely bore the heavy burdens and hardships of those long years &#13;
of war. The world has never known tovelier, braver women than they &#13;
were. They were ministering angels to the soldiers. They were our &#13;
inspiration then and will Uve in our hearts forever. Their memory is a &#13;
sweet benediction to our lives as we near the hist river. Wo would say &#13;
to you younger women, teach your children to love and honor the mem- &#13;
ory of those noble women of the South, the women of the Wvsbr &#13;
ing you much success in securing facts and truths for your history, T &#13;
am willing to give any information possible. &#13;
&#13;
Yours truly, &#13;
&#13;
JOHN B. KENNEDY* &#13;
&#13;
From these letters we see that at first this circle was formed for so- &#13;
cial pleasure and recreation, and on discovering that the queer costumes, &#13;
the great secrecy and weird mystery operated on the minds of the ig- &#13;
norant and vicious negroes and undesirable whites, they turned their ob- &#13;
jects into more useful channels The clement of superstition in the &#13;
negro and the bjld villainy of the depraved white man were appealed &#13;
to and the one was scared nearly to death, while the other gradually &#13;
disappeared. The Ku Klux knew the character of the whites and blacks &#13;
with whom they had to deal, and with each they used the needed treat- &#13;
ment. Initiation into this order is said to have tried the souls of men &#13;
and tested their courage as no other secret order before, or since, has &#13;
done. They bound Uiemselves to allegiance to the laws of the United &#13;
States. The question then arises, Why a secret organization? Be- &#13;
cause ex-Confederates were denied the right of ballot, the right to tea- &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
6 &#13;
&#13;
tify in court or to carry fire-arms. There were negro soldiers, legisla- &#13;
tois and m«gistiates, md as negroes held all offices, the white men were &#13;
• completely at their mercy, and they could tie them up by their thumbs &#13;
whenever they chose- The only thing to do in order to preserve some &#13;
form of just goremment and have sbme degree of freedom was to or- &#13;
ganize a compact secret body to do what openly they could not do. &#13;
&#13;
There is a copy of the oath and ritual in the possession of a lady in &#13;
Tennessee, wnose husband was an honored member of the Klan. She &#13;
said he gave it to her when she was a girl-bride, telling her to preserve &#13;
these papers, fm some day they would be history. I wrote asking her &#13;
if she would not, fo? the sake of history, give me a copy* She replied &#13;
that she regretted not being able to comply with my request, as she was &#13;
not able to write it herself, and inized the papers too highly to permit &#13;
them out of her possession for even one hour, in order to have a type- &#13;
written copy mader She said that her Ku Klux papers together with her &#13;
husband's sword and parole of honor, obtained at Appomatox, Va., were &#13;
to her, treasures whose price was far above rubies. &#13;
&#13;
The peculiar fascination ever attendant upon things mysterious^ &#13;
was always in«sent with everything connected with the Ku Klux Klan* &#13;
The Invisible Empire, as the territory under the control of the Klan was &#13;
called, extended from Virginia to Texas and embraced about fourteen &#13;
states. The Empire was subdivided into Realms; Realms into Domin- &#13;
ions; Dominions into Provinces and Provinces into Dens — mnespondins &#13;
respectively to states, congresdonal districts, counties and towns. &#13;
&#13;
Each department had its head officer, their duties being definitely &#13;
designated — except those of the Grand Wizard, the supreme officer — &#13;
whose control was absolute. &#13;
&#13;
The following is a list of officers and their departments in regular &#13;
order: The Grand Wizard of the Invisible Empire, assisted by his ten &#13;
Genii; the Grand Dragon of the Realm and his eight Hydras; the Grand &#13;
Titan of the Dominion and his six Furies; the Grand Giant of the Prov- &#13;
ince and his four Goblins; the- Grand Cyclops erf the Den and his two &#13;
Night Hawks. A Grand Turk, &amp;and Monk, Grand Exchequer, Grand &#13;
Scribe and Grand Sentinel were officers in the local Dens. The Genii, &#13;
Hydras, Furies, Goblins, Night Hawks were stafi officers, and the pri- &#13;
vate members were ciOled Ghouls. &#13;
&#13;
Many instances could be rehted of the good done by the Ku Klux, &#13;
&#13;
for in every instance they protected the just rights of the negro as well &#13;
&#13;
as the whites, and they stood always for the protection of the menaced &#13;
life liberty and property of all innocent men. The record of the Ku &#13;
Klux Klan teaches forcibly two lessons, which a^e so plain that he who &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
7 &#13;
&#13;
Tuns may read. First, the inevitability of Anglo-Saxon supremacy, when &#13;
liaiassed by bands of outlaws, thugs, carpet-baggers and guerillas, turn- &#13;
ed loose on the South and upheld by political machinery, during the re- &#13;
construction period, the sturdy wlutemen of the South, against all odds, &#13;
maintained white supremacy and secured Caucasian civilization, when &#13;
its very foundations were tlireatened within and without. Second, a new &#13;
Tevelation of the greatness and genius of Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest, &#13;
the '*Wizaxd of the Saddle," the great Confedemte Cavalry leaden As &#13;
Grand Wizard of the Invisible Empire, to his splendid leadership was &#13;
due, more than to any other one thing, the successful canying out of &#13;
the high and noble puq^oses of the real Ku Kiux Klan. &#13;
&#13;
How delightful and eachuiting were the tales ci the Ku Klux, as &#13;
told by some old black negro Mammy, before a bhaing wood fire, and &#13;
told in a sepulchral whisper, that made the cold chills play up down the &#13;
back and the marrow almost freeze in one's bones. She would tell you, &#13;
"'These silent riders were sixteen feet tall, with fiery eyes, and un- &#13;
quenchable thirst, never being satisfied with less than two buckets of &#13;
water for a drink, and honey-chile, dey wuz de awfuUes' sight you ever &#13;
seed in yo' life; and lioney-lam', be good, if you don't de Ku Klux will &#13;
^tyotu"' The grotesque costumes, masks, high, conical hats, robes all &#13;
of white, with red crosses on their breasts, and seen at the dead hour of &#13;
midnight was enough to frighten anyone, white or black, and the dark- &#13;
ies just declared, "'Fore Gawd," the Ku Klux came straight from the &#13;
bad place. "Old Wash," always interesting in the Taylor-Itetwood &#13;
magazine, gives in a recent issue the story his first vision of the Ku &#13;
Klux, "De niggers wuz all down to de meetin* house, holdin' one o' &#13;
dese heah detracted meetins. De moon wuz a sliinin,' when we seed &#13;
fm de church winders some ghost-men on some ghost-hosses comin' &#13;
outen de woods, one behin' de yudder. Dey, come slow an* solum- &#13;
like, an' dat night I seed my fust Ku Klux, an' ebery nigger dar seed &#13;
um, too, an' dey nebber will forgit um. Dem black niggers wuz skeer^ &#13;
ed so bad dat night, dey skin turned white, an' de kinks all come outen &#13;
dey har. Den de leader, he ride up to de chu'ch do' and de niggers &#13;
all said, 'Hit's de angel on de fiery steed,' but I said, 'No, hit's Ole &#13;
Massa dat woz kilt in de wsv.' Den de ghost-man, in a low, deep &#13;
voice^ an' pintin' wid his long, bony finger at de watah-bucket, said, &#13;
*A drink, please, I haint had nowatah since I wuz kilt in de fustl)attle &#13;
of Manassas.' 'Gawd, I sed so, hit's Ole Marster done riz frum de &#13;
grave. N^^K^i^ 7^' 3^' meanness, an' prepare to meet &#13;
&#13;
yo' GawL' " &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
8 &#13;
&#13;
I believe the younger generation should be told the true history of &#13;
the Ku Klux Klan, and be taught to have the proper respect for this or- &#13;
ganization, which did so much for the South in her dark days. Our &#13;
children will be toM all the false things concerning it* Let us see to it &#13;
that they are told the truth. Encyclopedias, books of reference and &#13;
some histories are full of false statements about the South, and informa- &#13;
tion about the South' s part in the war between the States is very mea- &#13;
ger and unsatisfactory. I plead for a true history of the South — our &#13;
Southland, so conscious of her rectitude, so firm in her belief that she &#13;
was ''constitutionally and eternally right," and so proud of the heroism &#13;
of her sons, has not felt the great necessity of vindicating her acts, but &#13;
it behooves us now to see that the searchlights axe turned on her part &#13;
in the war, and let the world know the truth of her history. And as &#13;
loyal Daughters of the Confederacy we stand pledged to see that this is &#13;
done. &#13;
&#13;
Some day when the South comes to her own, when her magnificent &#13;
resources have been developed and the riches of her mountains and her &#13;
&#13;
valleys drawn forth, there will be many great and good things to be said &#13;
of her history. Men will never tire of speaking of this land of romance, &#13;
so different in many essential respects from the rest of the country; and &#13;
women will read with joy and tears the story of her long fought battle &#13;
for supremacy. But when the tale is all told and the history of her la- &#13;
bors in war and peace has been recounted, no brighter chapter in all &#13;
her history, no fairer page will ever be read, than that which tells of &#13;
the illustrious and glorious organization, called the '^Ku Klux Klan.'' &#13;
Let us ever regard our history as a priceless heritage, let us cherish and &#13;
keep green the traditious of the old South, let us keep alive its chival- &#13;
rous spirit, and never tire of telHng the story of those lion-hearted men, &#13;
&#13;
who made this history for us and around whose names cluster some of &#13;
the greatest events of the past. Gladstone, the great Enghsh states- &#13;
man, said, "No greater calamity can befall a people than to break ut- &#13;
terly with its past; and if we forget our ancestors we ourselves are un- &#13;
worthy to be remembered." When the great Napoleon had landed &#13;
his force? on Egyptian soil and formed them in battle array, lifting his &#13;
hand high in air and pointing to the Pyramids, he exclaimed: "Sol- &#13;
diers, forty centuries behold you," and wh'^n we realize today, the valor &#13;
of our sires and grandsires, the beauty and culture of our mothers and &#13;
grandmothers are beholding us, do we not feel that we are indeed tread- &#13;
ing on holy ground? Is not the history they have made for us our &#13;
most precious and priceless heritage? To the glorious history of our &#13;
fair Southland, and especially of our own great Mississippi, and more &#13;
especially of that remarkable and splendid organization, the Ku Klux &#13;
Kbm, I p^y tribute tonight. &#13;
&#13;
&#13;
&#13;
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                <text>United Daughters of the Confederacy, Mississippi Division</text>
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              <text>The World’s Work&#13;
ARTHUR W. PAGE, Epitor FRENCH. STROTHER, Manaaine Epiror BURTON J. HENDRICK, Associate Epitor&#13;
CONTENTS FOR SEPTEMBER, 1923 President Coolidge - - - - - - - - - - - - = = = = = = = = Frontispiece THE MARCH OF EVENTS—AN EpiTorIAL INTERPRETATION - - - - - - - 443&#13;
Carl Sherman Magnus Johnson Mrs. Calvin Coolidge Guy E. Tripp Warren Gamaliel Harding THE WAR IN THE CHURCHES (lilustrated) - - - - - Rotuin Lynpe Hartt 469 The First Article in a Series on the Fundamentalists vs. the Liberals&#13;
BROOKHART, HOWELL, AND “BROTHER CHARLEY” BRYAN (Illustrated) 478 Politics as Fought in Nebraska and lowa Cuester H. Rowe tt&#13;
THE THREE PER CENT. LOAN SWINDLE - - - - - Joun R. Grecory 486 How Needy Borrowers Are Sometimes Swindled&#13;
WILD HUMOR AT THE ANTIPODES (lllustrated) - - - Sypney A. CLOMAN “The Monetization of Celluloid” and “The Anting-Anting”’&#13;
THE ELECTRIFICATION OF NORTH AMERICA (JI/lustrated) What the “Super-Power Plan”’ Means GENERAL Guy E. Tripp&#13;
“THE FLEET GRIDIRON” (lllustrated) - - - - ReAr-Apmirat W. S. Sims What the Naval War College at Newport Really Does&#13;
THE SUCCESS OF OUR SUCCESSORS (Illustrated)- - - Witttam McANnpREWw I. The Faith of the Founders&#13;
FAKERS AND FALLACIES - - - - - - - - -FLoyp W. Parsons Old and New Schemes to Dupe the Public&#13;
ANCESTRY AND END OF THE KU KLUX KLAN (JIlustrated) Ropert L. Durrus Its Forebears and Its Probable Course and End&#13;
CAN AMERICA HELP? (Jilustrated) - - - - - - - = Mark SULLIVAN What Has Been Learned By Our Public Men W hho Are Returning from Europe&#13;
THE FIRST THOUSAND THE HARDEST - - - - -&#13;
The Way to Begin Saving Successfully&#13;
THE WORLD’S WORKSHOP - - - - - - “= Glimpses Behind the Scenes in the Editor’s Office&#13;
THE RED LETTER BOOK GUIDE - - - - - - - -  THomas L. Masson Reviews of and Remarks About New Books&#13;
SUN-DIAL GOSSIP - - NEAR THE END OF THE FRONT ADVERTISING SECTION Chat About the New Books Published at Country Life Press&#13;
Copyright, 1923, in the United States, Newfoundland, Great Britain, and other countries by ue Page &amp; Co. Allrights reserved. TERMS: $4.00 a year; single copies 35 cents; Canadian postage 60 cents extra; foreign, $1.00&#13;
F. N. DouBLepay, Pres. ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. NELSON DouBLepay, Vice Pres. RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY, Sec’y. S. A. Everitt, Treas. JOHN J. HESSIAN, Asst. Treas.&#13;
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY 69) Country LIFE ; ®&#13;
EDUCATIONAL REVIEW THE GARDEN MAGAZINE RADIO BROADCAST SHORT STORIES GARDEN CITY,N. Y.&#13;
LOS ANGELES: Van Nuys @ig.&#13;
CHICAGO: People’s Gas nee NEW YORK: 120 W. 32nd Street BOSTON: Tremont Bldg&#13;
 &#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
CALVIN COOLIDGE The thirtieth President of the United States&#13;
 &#13;
THE&#13;
WORLD'S WORK&#13;
SEPTEMBER, 1923&#13;
Votume XLVI&#13;
NUMBER 5&#13;
THE MARCH OF EVENTS&#13;
HATEVER opinion may&#13;
be held as to the general&#13;
effect of the new immigra-&#13;
tion law, it has accom-&#13;
plished at least one result of a salutary kind. The pictures which the newspapers present of anxious foreigners pounding for admission, and of the dispairing crowds shipped back to Europe, make rather melancholy reading, yet the question has an- other side. The United States is assuming a different aspect in the eyes of the European peasant and of Europe generally. In the old days the inclination was strong to regard this country as a dumping ground. The European steamship lines looked upon it merely as an opportunity to heap up profits: by the trans- portation of heterogeneous human cargoes. The gates were wide open; the country ap- parently had little interest in the quality of the newcomers it received; almost no ques- tions were asked and the few restrictions laid down in the statutes were constantly evaded. A private house that admits all kinds of guests inspires little respect, and, similarly, the freedom with which all ap- plicants could gain admittance to this country decreased the honor in which American resi- dence and citizenship were held. The im- migration statistics themselves disclose the slight enthusiasm which certain types of im- migrants felt for this country. Many were simply birds of passage; they came, enjoyed for a short time high wages, and then de- parted. Despite large immigration from&#13;
certain European countries in the last few years, the United States has added nothing to its population from these sources, for the de- partures have frequently exceeded the arrivals.&#13;
Now, however, the expectant European has only one thought in mind, as, amid the unhappiness of his old world surroundings, he ponders the great adventure: “Can | get in?” Does he possess the moral and physical quali- fications that will permit him to pass the gates? This is the hope that fills his every waking moment on the voyage across the Atlantic. The disappointment is bitter when this aspira- tion is denied; the exultation is correspond- ingly great when it is realized. Access to this country is thus a privilege, something which everyone can not obtain. ‘he fact that an immigrant passes the inspector is instantly a certificate of character and of ef- ficiency. The fine quality of the immigrants now landing at Ellis Island is the point that all observers insist on. Practically all who are now coming possess the stuff of American citizenship. They are the successful contes- tants in the present race for admission. All this must affect their attitude toward theirnew country, for it is a well known human trait to prize a thing in accordance with the difficulty one has in obtaining it, and it may safely be as- sumed that a foothold on American soil means far more to these new arrivals than it did in the old days when no questions were asked.&#13;
The United States is rapidly becoming the exclusive club among the nations. Every effort should be made to keep it so.&#13;
 &#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
CARL SHERMAN&#13;
Attorney General of New York State who, by an effective campaign against fraudulent promoters and other financial crooks is demonstrating that it is not more laws we need to protect the public from these pirates as much as it is enforcement of our present laws&#13;
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© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
MRS. CALVIN COOLIDGE The new mistress of the White House&#13;
 &#13;
© Journal Ptg. Co.&#13;
MAGNUS JOHNSON Elected to the United States Senate on the Farmer-Labor ticket in Minnesota. Senator Johnson was born in Sweden and came to America at the age of 21. He is a “dirt farmer” and owes his election to the discontent aroused among the farmers of the Middle West and Northwest because of the low prices of farm products and the high prices of manufactured goods&#13;
 &#13;
GUY E. TRIPP Chairman of the Board of the Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company, and an important figure in the movement for the “‘super-power plan” which he describes in an article in this number of the Wor _p’s WorkK [See page 408]&#13;
 &#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
Warren Gamaliel Harding&#13;
Twentp-ninth President of the Anited States. Born in Corsica, Obi, Rovember 2, 1865. Died in San Francisco, California, duqust 2, 1923&#13;
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The March of Events&#13;
A Success Built on Character&#13;
_ (OST of the tributes paid to the late M Warren G. Harding emphasize the man’s lovable personal traits and his&#13;
dignity and honesty of character. The mass mind of America has an unerring instinct for the predominant qualities in public person- ages, and this tendency to stress the Presi- dent’s personal side may therefore be accepted as expressing the essential truth. Everyone who came into contact with Mr. Harding loved him. His fine, handsome, stalwart figure, his keen and sympathetic blue eyes, his vigorous stride, his manly handclasp, all sug- gested that fundamental Americanism which was the source of his strength and of the confidence that he inspired in his integrity of purpose. The Americanism of President Harding cannot be too emphatically insisted on. It went back many generations, for he came of pioneering stock. His ancestors had fought Indians, leveled trees, and built a home and a farm in primeval Connecticut, and, though Mr. Harding possessed a geniality and flexibility which are not usually regarded as Yankee traits, his origin clearly influenced his every thought and act. He believed in the ideas and the aspirations which launched America in the family of nations and he al- ways unashamedly proclaimed his faith in them. The Constitution and the Supreme Court never had a more robust defender. New-fangled ‘‘modern notions’ found no lodgment in his brain, for the fundamentals of Anglo-Saxon civilization represented, in his mind, the highest inspirations of real progress. Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, the Dec- laration of Independence, and the Gettys- burg Address he regarded as the fine flower of political thinking. Radicalism, especially the exotic and imported variety, did not seem in his eyes an adequate substitute for the con- ceptions of the “founding fathers.” With Mr. Harding this was an_instinct—‘‘ad- vanced” philosophers would say a prejudice— rather than a reasoned conviction. The late President was not a scholarly man or one greatly given to reading or study, and his sed for ‘“‘normalcy’”’ made him an easy subject for the ridicule of ‘“‘liberals.” But the typical American also is not a deep thinker. The things that make up the fibre of Anglo-Saxon civilization have been worked out in a thousand years’ experience with the&#13;
449&#13;
problems of daily existence. These things are a belief in public sobriety, in ordered liberty, in majority rule, representative gov- ernment, equality before the law, free demo- cratic opportunity in all the necessities and comforts of existence, and those conceptions of private morality that have been woven into the very texture of our minds. These were the things that President Harding em- bodied in dignified and modest fashion, and for this reason the American masses, brief as was their acquaintance with their twenty- ninth President, had learned to love and re- spect him. Mingled with their admiration was a sense of pride that a sturdy American could step from the ranks and so acceptably fill the duties of the most exacting office on earth. It all made for the capacity and the dignity of American citizenship.&#13;
Permanent Landmarks of the Harding Administration&#13;
R. HARDING’S success was thus the M success of character; and that, after&#13;
all, is the highest praise. However, the mere fact that the late President was so much like millions of other more obscure Americans, lends particular point to a minute examination of his record. What kind of a President was this modest and homely Amer- ican gentleman who was taken almost un- awares and drafted for the White House by the largest popular majority ever accorded a candidate for the office? Here again there is little comfort for the pessimist, for Mr. Harding’s two and a half years at Washington makes a not unimpressive showing. His se- lection of probably the ablest cabinet since MckKinley’s in itself was an achievement of no small order. The readiness with which he surrounded himself with the best talent in his party testifies not only to his capacity for leadership but to the disinterestedness and modesty of his own purposes. Because Mr. Harding met this test so satisfactorily his death is far less of a calamity on the Adminis- trative side than it might otherwise have been. With certain Harding policies, notably the Fordney-McCumber Tariff Law and the Ship Subsidy Bill, this magazine could have no sympathy, but other of Mr. Harding’s achieve- ments will exercise a healthy influence upon the Nation for generations to come. The Budget Bill has reduced American finances to&#13;
 &#13;
The World’s&#13;
Work&#13;
Keystone View Co.&#13;
PRESIDENT COOLIDGE With Mrs. Coolidge and their two sons&#13;
something like system—and this for the first time since the early days of the Republic. It is an astonishing truth that, until the Hard- ing Administration came in, Turkey and the United States were practically the only im- portant Powers without a Budget. We had for decades followed the most hit-or-miss method in raising and spending money; thanks to President Harding and his able ad- visers, our financial scheme has so improved that this year, instead of an anticipated deficit of $800,000, the Treasury shows a surplus of $200,000,000. As time goes on the institution of the Federal Budget will become as perma- nent a monument to Mr. Harding’s domestic policy as is the Federal Reserve System to the Administration of Woodrow Wilson. Probably even more important, in the devel- opment of the country, is the new American immigration policy. The apparent deter- mination of eastern and Mediterranean Eu- rope to solve many of their post-war problems by dumping millions of their most undesirable&#13;
peoples on our Atlantic seaboard brought to sharp focus a matter that has given thoughtful Americans pause for more than half a century. Ever since the Civil War the Nation has been fumbling with the immigration question. So long as immigrants were confined chiefly to northwestern Europe the question had not grown sufficiently acute to bring about re- Strictive measures; the certainty, however, that the immigrants of the future would be composed of eastern Europeans, southern Europeans and miscellaneous Asiatics, meant that the United States was about to discard its birthright and deliver its destinies over to a hopeless mongrelism. In meeting this situation President Harding disclosed that the New England quality known as “horse sense” is far more desirable than a pale intellectual sentimentalism. For the sentimentalists have all too long had their way in the matter of immigration; President Harding and_ his party brushed aside the idea that America is a “refuge,” a place always ready to wel-&#13;
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The March of Events&#13;
come the distressed and incapable of all races and of all nations, and substituted the more wholesome conception that its first duty to the world and to itself is to become rather the Paradise of the morally and mentally and physically efficient. The 3 per cent. immigra- tion law is therefore one of the greatest monuments of the Harding Administration; this has already succeeded so well that, probably with certain strengthening modifi- cations, it may be regarded as our permanent policy.&#13;
Greatest Success in Foreign Relations&#13;
R. HARDING’S veto of the Bonus, M and his insistence on enforcing the Pro-&#13;
hibition laws, again demonstrated his honesty and his respect for law which were part of the secret of his success. All these things constitute a splendid domestic record, but it is in foreign affairs that his work will probably have its most far-reaching influence. It is one of those paradoxes not unusual in American affairs that an administration placed in power for the purpose of keeping the United States aloof from European politics should have achieved its really epoch-making success in foreign relations. President Hard- ing was himself chiefly proud of two accom- plishments—the international agreement on naval limitation and the Four-Power treaty regulating the future of the Far East. Both will loom large in history not only as achieve- ments in themselves but because they intro- duce new ideas in the relations of nations. For twenty-five years preceding the Great War, several half-hearted attempts had been made to reduce naval and land armaments. Statesmen knew that the reduction of such armaments was the only way of preventing the European war which was every day com- ing nearer. All these attempts failed and failed for one reason: the will to cut down navies and armies did not exist. The prevail- ing will was rather the will for war. President Harding’s Washington Conference succeeded because he and his Secretary of State were able to substitute the peace-desire for the war- desire, and the eloquent way in which they accomplished this forms a brilliant episode in our history. Something greater has come out of the Naval treaties than the limitation of warships; for the first time the Powers have conceded that their armament is not a matter&#13;
451&#13;
which concerns exclusively themselves, but that it is something about which their fellow nations have the right to be heard. When the greatest naval Powers can come together, sit around a table, and decide what size fleet each one is permitted to have, a tremendous stride has been taken for world coéperation and world peace. The League of Nations has so far accomplished nothing comparable to this single achievement of Mr. Harding’s.&#13;
At the same time the Harding Administra- tion eliminated the Anglo-Japanese Alliance —something that threatened not only British- American relations, but the peace of the Far East; and, in its place, was created something in the nature of a League of Nations for Pacific Powers. Those who raif against Mr. Harding for his aloofness from the Geneva organization should bear this fact in mind. They should also not forget the splendid legacy which Mr. Harding has left. His last important policy was his advocacy of Amer- ican participation in the International Court of Justice; his last speech—alas! not delivered, but given to the press— was an appeal for its ratification by the Senate. Just what effect Mr. Harding’s death will have upon its fate is not apparent. That unhappy event does, however, add a certain solemnity to the already valid reasons for its success. There are no reasonable objections to the Court; all the arguments so far made are founded not on reason, but rise from ignorance, prejudice, or that demagogism which is one of the pen- alties of democracy. The Court is not a European but an American scheme. It has for twenty-five years been one of the planks of the Republican platform. It did not orig- inate in the League of Nations—though that, if true, would be no respectable argument against it; it originated in the minds of Amer- ican statesmen. It cannot possibly involve the United States in European entanglements; its influence will be quite the reverse. The fact is that President Harding and his asso- ciates were gradually building up a foreign policy of permanent character. Naval limi- tation, the Far Eastern Treaty, and the International Court—here are three accom- plishments that would have madeany adminis- tration memorable, and not the least consoling thought in President Coolidge’s declaration that he intends to continue the Harding policies is the assurance that this work in foreign relations will go on.&#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing CALVIN COOLIDGE, JR. The younger of the President's two sons&#13;
New England Again in the White House&#13;
OR the first time since Franklin Pierce (1853-7) the White House is tenanted by a lank and raw-boned New England&#13;
Yankee. For the first time since John Quincy Adams the state of Massachusetts has provided a President for the Nation which she did so much to create. President Hard- ing, too, came of New England stock; but it was stock that had transplanted itself to Ohio; and in two or three generations it had taken on much of that geniality and accessibility which are so natural tothe West. But Calvin Coolidge, in appearance, manner, and senten- tiousness is redolent of the New England soil. There is an appropriateness in the fact that the new President’s first name is Calvin, as there is in the fact that he took his oath of office in a New England town named Ply- mouth. Mr. Coolidge’s published book bears the significant title: ‘‘Have Faith in Massa- chusetts!”’ and the very name Coolidge itself suggests the cabin of the Mayflower. The popular impression of the new President cor- responds with this New England background.&#13;
Americans know him as a man who acts promptly and vigorously and who does little talking. His published speeches justify this characterization; the fact that chiefly strikes the reader is their astonishing brevity. One of Mr. Coolidge’s inaugural addresses as Governor of Massachusetts consisted of only six lines and most of his state papers and public addresses similarly displayed almost a morbid fear of boring the listener. Yet his English style is packed with an aphoristic quality that almost suggests Emerson. ‘“Ex- pect to be called a standpatter, but don’t be a standpatter. Expect to be called a dema- gogue but don’t be a demagogue. Don’t hesitate to be as revolutionary as science. Don’t hesitate to be as reactionary as the multiplication table.” That is fine philoso- phy and excellently expressed, and this sort of thing is found throughout his writings. “Laws,” he declares, ‘‘must rest on the eterna! foundations of righteousness.” There again is heard the voice of Puritan New England. Indeed, Mr. Coolidge’s devotion to Massa- chusetts and everything that it represents is really Websterian. ‘There she stands!”&#13;
A Vice-President Elected&#13;
ISTINCTIVE of New England as&#13;
President Coolidge is—no other sec-&#13;
tion of the country could possibly have produced him—geography had nothing to do with his nomination as Vice-President. Neither did the honor come to him as a con- solation prize—as a sop thrown to pacify a disgruntled section of his party. In good old political jargon, Mr. Coolidge was nominated for one purpose: ‘‘to strengthen the ticket.” At the time of the Republican Convention, indeed, Mr. Coolidge was much better known to the American public than was Mr. Harding, for the promptness and courage with which he had checked the policemen’s strike in Boston had sent his name ringing all over the land. Mr. Coolidge was therefore selected for Vice-President for the very good reason that he was himself regarded as Presidential timber. He was chosen as the possible heir apparent for such a sad occasion as has now arisen. This augurs well for his success. That Mr. Coolidge possesses independence of judgment he disclosed early in the cam- paign. Mr. Harding had denounced the League of Nations as a “‘super-government.&#13;
 &#13;
as SeC- ibly ling ent. “on- ya old ated et.” 10n, own ling, hich e in r the cted ason ntial heir now “CESS. lence cam-&#13;
the ent.”&#13;
The March of Events&#13;
vet in an early speech Mr. Coolidge somewhat drily remarked that he did ‘‘not believe that the covenant intended to create a super- government.” That Mr. Harding was a man who could respect an honest difference of opinion was shown when he invited the Vice- President to attend cabinet meetings to fa- miliarize himself with the duties that he might be called upon to fill.&#13;
Naturally Mr. Coolidge’s somewhat more cordial attitude towards the League of Na- tions has raised hopes in certain bosoms, but, his campaign remarks need not necessarily be interpreted in the terms of the present situation. They do indicate a benevolent attitude towards American participation in the reconstruction of Europe and in this they are valuable. Especially are they important for the assurance they give that the new President, like the departed one, will make the International Court his leading plank in foreign affairs. It may safely be assumed that the Nation could find no abler or more determined advocate of this great tribunal than the quiet and thoughtful gentleman now in the White House. Most phases of American thought are now well represented at Washington. But now also a touch of the bleak New England conscience can serve a useful purpose, and this the Nation possesses in President Calvin Coolidge.&#13;
Politics and the Price of Wheat&#13;
HE price of wheat has always exer- cised an important influence on Amer-&#13;
ican history. In the seventies it was almost the determining element in political campaigns; in that period it elected no Presi- dents, it is true, but it did elect governors, congressmen, and senators, and it profoundly affected legislation. Its most lasting results were certain decisions of the United States Supreme Court, which settled for all time the powers of Congress in regulating railroads, and the creation of the Interstate Commerce Commission.&#13;
Twenty years afterward the price of wheat probably elected a President. This was in 1806. Agricultural depression was the cause of the uprising of the farmers in the early ‘nineties—an uprising that delivered the Democratic organization to the “radical”’ wing of the party and culminated in the nomination of Bryan. All through the Bryan&#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing JOHN COOLIDGE Ihe older son of the President&#13;
campaign of 1896 the unhappiness of the farmer was the prevailing note Crops could not be sold, the farms were mortgaged, and ruin apparently faced the great Middle West. What was the cause of this depression? The farmers found it in the transactions of Wall Street, in the manipulations of the speculator, above all, in a currency system, which, they asserted, had been deliberately created for the purpose of robbing them. The econo- mists explained it on other and more rational grounds, such as bad crops, a lessening of European demand, and the like. The argu- ments flew thickly through the air all that warm summer, but had no result except to increase the ill-feeling of both parties to the dispute.&#13;
A few weeks before the election, however, an event took place of a most practical kind. The wheat crop showed a decided slump in all parts of the world except one—that was the American Middle West. Famine over- whelmed India; Russia and the South Amer- ican countries suffered from pests and other destructive enemies. The result was a sud- den demand for American wheat from all&#13;
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A TYPICAL WHEAT FIELD WITHIN VIEW OF THE ELEVATORS&#13;
The high freight rates that are in effect at the very time when farm produce is comparatively low in price has been the cause of much opposition on the part of the farmers to the Esch-Cummins Act, which they blame for the high rates. The railroads and, in fact, ‘“‘capital’’ in general and ‘‘ Wall Street” in particular, have all been energetically opposed by the “radical” farmers, who, as a matter of fact, are not radical but are, instead, deeply interested in securing some&#13;
legislative solution to their problems.&#13;
With a return of good prices there will probably be a return of the farmers to&#13;
their former party allegiances&#13;
parts of the civilized world and immediately prices rose; American farms became bee hives of industry. Instead of an indefinite period&#13;
of misery, the farmers saw the approaching&#13;
glow of prosperity, while Mr. Bryan and his fellow campaigners felt their ground giving way. They had been telling the farmer that the one way to increase prices was to debase the currency, but, in the face of all this cam- paign oratory, the farmer perceived that he could sell his crops for the very good reason that there were millions of people who must have them or starve. The effect upon the presidential campaign was immediate; any chance of election Mr. Bryan may have had at once disappeared and William McKinley went into the White House with an enormous majority. History furnishes few instances more striking of a mighty structure of words being so completely demolished by one fact.&#13;
“Radicalism” and ‘‘Communism”’ in the Election&#13;
HE same old disturbing influence, the price of agricultural products, is the most potential force in American poli- tics at the present moment. The general election last fall showed the prevailing discon- tent, especially in the farming sections, and the Harding Administration, being in power, naturally became its heir. The tremendous&#13;
majority of 7,000,000 votes obtained only two years before was greatly reduced, and the Republican margin in both houses of Con- gress cut down almost to the vanishing point. The success of so-called “radicals,” both in the primaries and at the elections, seemed to render the situation especially acute. At that time there was a tendency to minimize this catastrophe as more or less a seasonal phenomenon; elections in the middle of a presidential term not infrequently go against the party in power. The “repudiation” therefore was reported, in certain quarters, as a temporary flurry. The recent election in Minnesota, however, rather disposes of this idea.&#13;
Last fall the candidate of the so-called Farmer-Labor party in that state succeeded in defeating the candidates of both the old line parties and in obtaining a seat in the senate. At the recent election, a special one held to select a successor to the late Knute Nelson, the same forces won with an even larger majority. The cause of both these victories was the same. The personalities of the candidates, interesting and appealing as they were, did not determine the result. Mr. Magnus Johnson is the type of statesmar who has frequently, in a crisis of this kin¢ succeeded in converting himself into a symbol of the farmer’s woes. A native of Sweden, Johnson came to this country when he was&#13;
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called eeded d line onate. eld to elson, larger ‘tories f the 1g as&#13;
Mr. esmar kine ymbol veden, 1e was&#13;
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twenty-one and his English naturally still retains traces of his trans-Atlantic origin. In his busy life he has alternately been a seaman, a glass blower, a millhand, a lumberjack, and a farmer. Of his personal popularity there seems to be no question. His election has caused alarm in conservative quarters, the fact that he stood as the candidate of the Farmer-Labor party and that he advocated certain “radical issues” apparently causing certain alarmists to regard him as the van- guard of the revolution. That the “commun- ist’’ party called upon all loyal devotees to support Mr. Johnson is another point in the indictment. Yet these fears have not gained much popular headway. There are probably not 5,000 real “communists” in the United States, and the small representation in the state of Minnesota could not have contributed much to the election of a candidate whose majority was more than 80,000. It is not even clear that the Farmer-Labor party, whose: titular candidate Mr. Johnson was, can clafm’ much credit for his success. “A few days’ before the Minnesota election the Farmer-Labor convention, sitting in Chicago, was captured by a handful of communists,&#13;
455 chiefly aliens, led by C. E. Ruthenberz, long a&#13;
o familiar figure in demonstrations of this kind. Mr. Johnson advocated certain causes gen- erally regarded as “radical,” but it was the radicalism of the LaFollette school. He favored the recognition of Soviet Russia, the curbing of the powers of the Supreme Court, the revaluation of railroads so as to “squeeze out the water,” the repeal of the Esch-Cum- mins law, regarded as responsible for existing railroad rates, and a soldiers’ bonus, while he took his stand against the League of Na- tions and the International Court.&#13;
But it was doubtful if any of these matters had much influence upon the election. The result was nothing more than a protest against existing agricultural conditions. The deplor- able fact is that the farmers of the great Middle West are in serious difficulties and this is a calamity not only for them but for the nation as a whole. Our farming population compose one third of the American people. To a great extent they form the nation’s back- bone. That the nation is prosperous is evident, yet it is not an entirely grateful pros- perity that leaves one third of our people in difficulties and that third probably its sturdi-&#13;
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A NORTH DAKOTA WHEAT FIELD&#13;
The decline in the price of wheat has had a marked effect on politics in the upper Missouri and upper Mississippi val-&#13;
leys, and “‘radicals’”’ have been elected to the Senate who announce their intention of demanding legislation to help the&#13;
farmer. As has happened before, the reduced price of wheat and other farm produce, has been caused, at least in part, by over-production&#13;
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est and most deserving element. The reason for this depression is plain. High freight rates, a poor system of marketing, inadequate transportation are contributing causes to agricultural depression, but the basic difficulty is over-production. The farming sections responded heroically to the demands made upon them in war time and they have now become the victims of their patriotic zeal. They have increased their facilities to a point beyond that at which the market can absorb their products; they are overextended, and this situation, as in the ’seventies and the ’nine- ties, has had its political consequences. That accounts for the recent phenomenon in Minnesota. That this strong Republican state has two Farmer-Labor senators at Wash- ington does not mean that a third party is about to be formed. If agricultural condi- tions improve, the farmers will assume once more their political allegiances; if these con- ditions grow worse, then more setbacks of this kind are in store for the Republican party. The fact that the farmer’s position does not seem to be improving is not an encouraging prospect for the forces in power, for it is the party in power that necessarily becomes the target of agricultural dissatisfaction.&#13;
How to Raise the Price of Wheat&#13;
HE statesman who will ease the&#13;
present disturbed political waters is the&#13;
one who can increase the price of wheat. The only group that has a definite programme to accomplish this is the “bloc”’ which Mr. Magnus Johnson has announced his intention of joining. It demands a special session of Congress for the considera- tion of the agricultural question. The pro- posal that finds most favor is one providing that the Federal Treasury shall purchase all the fall wheat offered at $1.50 a bushel and hold it for higher prices. Like everything associated with agricultural crises, this sugges- tion is not new. It has always been brought forward in all past agrarian depressions, and it will doubtless be brought forward in all future ones. It has never been adopted, except in war time, and it is not likely that it will pass Congress this year. The objections are suf- ficiently obvious. Such authorities are not the proper function of government; they mean taking the money of certain citizens and trans- ferring it to the pockets of others. Even the&#13;
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common plea that agriculture, as the “basic industry,” is entitled to preferential treat- ment, can hardly be maintained. In any structure so complicated as the modern or- ganization of civilization it can not be said that there is any “basic industry,” for each one is absolutely dependent on all the others. This idea of government purchase was pre- sented to the Wheat Conference that recently met in Chicago and was promptly voted down.&#13;
There is one way to increase the price of farm products that would be more efficacious thar the proposed governmental action. That would be to decrease the price of the commodi- ties which the farmer buys. As a matter of fact, farm products, in most cases, are bring- ing higher prices than before the war; but their exchange value, because of the increase in the use of manufactured articles, is much less. The situation must work itself out gradually, and any assistance the central government can legitimately extend will meet with general approval. Congress, indeed, has already done much, but the problem still seems unsolved. The political possibilities of the crisis are apparently not yet exhausted.&#13;
Governor Wood and the Filipinos&#13;
HAT certain Filipino leaders requested&#13;
President Harding to remove Leonard&#13;
Wood as Governor-general comes as no surprise to those who have followed ‘the recent course of events in the Phi- lippine Islands. This action has been inevi- table since the day General Wood assumed his new duties. The reason openly given for this request—a disagreement with the Gover- nor-general over the reinstatement of a cer- tain public official—is only the ostensible one. The resignation of the Filipino cabinet brings to a head the old controversy which has raged for more than ten years about American policies in the Islands. Shall the United States give the Philippine Islands immediate and unconditional independence? Or shall this country maintain a guardian hand, care- fully training the Filipino people in the ways of self-government, with the idea of making them a free state just as soon as they have demonstrated their capacity for self rule? Manuel Quezon, who is leading the present movement, stands for the first policy, while General Wood advocates the more cautious&#13;
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© E. M. Newman&#13;
MANILA AND THE PASIG RIVER The agitation in favor of independence has reached a serious stage in the Philippines, although, from the expressed desire for “‘independence under the protection of the United States” an unusual understanding is shown of the real meaning of the term&#13;
programme. That is the issue in the present controversy.&#13;
President Wilson was a believer in absolute Philippine independence, and the new measure of government which his administration pro- vided for the Islands carried out his purpose to a considerable degree. For the last seven years, since 1916, the Philippine Islands have enjoyed a period of almost complete auton- omy. Both branches of the legislature are composed of Filipinos, and the judiciary and all members of the cabinet, having charge of the executive departments, are likewise na- tives. The civil service has been so com- pletely Filipinized that less than 4 per cent. of its members are now Americans. The authority of the United States is represented only by the Governor-general, appointed by the President, who possesses veto power over the acts of the legislatures. For all practical purposes, however, the Philippine Islands have been self-governing, and their history for the last ten years may therefore be regarded as giving a fair demonstration of the justice of the claim they now make to absolute independence.&#13;
What then, have been the results of this&#13;
experiment? The report on this subject by Governor Wood and Mr. Cameron Forbes, recently submitted to President Harding, is chiefly responsible for the present agitation. Governor Wood and his associate, as prepara- tion for this survey, made a four months’ tour, covering practically every important section of the Islands. The resulting docu- ment is written in a friendly and_ well mannered spirit; it is by no means the product of an unaccommodating and domineering mind. In the main, it is highly complimen- tary to the people of the Philippines. It pays high tribute to their intelligence, courtesy, patriotism, and capacity for ultimate self- rule. It appears that there has been a ten- dency in this country to depreciate their civilization. The facts are that the Filipinos have a mighty zeal for education; that their children are unusually precocious; that the Filipino mind is well adapted to the profes- sions; that Filipino women, proud, industri- ous, self-sacrificing, and devoted to their homes, are the mainstay of the nation; that Filipinos as a mass are cleanly in their habits, neat in their attire, orderly, and self-respect-&#13;
ing. Their progress in twenty-three years—&#13;
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© Clinedinst MANUEL L. QUEZON A major in the Philippine Army during the Philippine Insurrection 1898-1900, and a member of Aguinaldo’s&#13;
staff. Later he was a provincial governor and for ten&#13;
years was resident commissioner to the United States.&#13;
He is now the leader of the opposition to General Wood and a leader of the movement for independence&#13;
of course under American tutelage—is prob- ably the greatest ever made by one of the so- called backward peoples. In one important respect the Filipinos differ from all the other peoples of the Far East who have come under the control of Europeans: the larger number are Christians, the extension of Christianity having been one of the main purposes of the Spanish conquest. A striking point in their character is that they are themselves im- mensely proud of the progress they have made in this short period, and are exceedingly grateful to Americans, who, contrary to what is probably the current view, are very popular in the islands.&#13;
Despite these encouraging facts, conditions are not satisfactory. A “reasonable propor- tion’”’ of the officials are capable and honest, but the public services are constantly losing in efficiency. Politics is the besetting sin, as in other more enlightened countries. The fine system of highways, established by Ameri- cans, is rapidly deteriorating, and the health&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
service, which was our chief price, 1s in wretched condition: there were 50,000 deaths from small pox last year; typhus, beri-beri, and tuberculosis are almost unchecked, while the treatment of the insane is medieval. Philippine finances are in disorder, largely through the dishonest management of the National Bank; the Philippine government, indeed, has difficulty in meeting its obliga- tions. Public confidence in the administra- tion of justice is greatly shaken. In fact Governor Wood believes that to remove the restraining hand of the United States would simply result in anarchy and probably in subjection to some other power.&#13;
Do the Filipinos desire their independence? Wherever Governor Wood and Mr. Forbes went, they were usually greeted with signs containing the word “Welcome” and phrases unmistakably voicing an ambition for in- dependence. This was seemingly the unan- imous view of the Christian population; the Mohammedans and pagans, however, are so insistent on maintaining the present régime that, in case independence is granted, they insist that their territories shall remain under American control—in other words they wish to create a situation not unlike that of Ulster in Ireland. How little the Christian popula- tion understand the word “independence”’ is evident from the fact that, whenever they ask for it, they always add that they expect it ‘under the protection of the United States.” There is, of course, no such thing as “ protec- tive independence’’; it must be absolute or it is not independence. Thus it is apparent that even those most desirous of independence do not want an absolute divorce from this country. What they probably do want is complete control of their own affairs, and the American protection against foreign aggres- sion and internal disorder—something like the present régime in Cuba. But General Wood believes that the time has not yet come for this, and probably the best American opinion will sustain this view.&#13;
England no Longer an Island&#13;
hangs over the future peace of Europe is the race which has already started for the dominance of the air. The supremacy which France has obtained has caused such great perturbation in England that large ap-&#13;
p ROBABLY the most serious cloud that&#13;
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propriations are already planned for aircraft in the latter country. Something in the nature of a race for the control of the air has already started between the two great allies in the recent war.&#13;
This fact is more discouraging for European peace than the present diplomatic misunder- standings between Great Britain and France. Disagreements over the Ruhr have seriously strained Franco-British relations; but this is something that can be ironed out in time. Competition in armament, however, can have only one end. It is necessary to go back only a generation to find the most satisfactory rela- tions existing between England and Ger- many. All through the Victorian epoch France and Russia alternated as Britain’s potential foe; Germany was the friend. Lord Salisbury, as Foreign Minister, was always well disposed to Germany—witness his ex- change of Heligoland for the protectorate of Zanzibar; France in his eyes was the enemy. What was it that so completely changed the situation and converted Germany into the enemy and France into the friend? Mr. H. H. Asquith, in his recently published recol- lections, makes the facts clearer than they have ever been made before. About 1900&#13;
Germany, which had never been a sea power,&#13;
began constructing a mighty fleet. That&#13;
of Events 459 fleet could have only one purpose. This purpose was not to protect German com- merce or to keep off vague enemies; the fleet could not go far to sea, and so could not protect commerce or fight the United States; it was constructed, in all its details, solely for action against the British ships in the North Sea. By constructing this great fleet the Kaiser boldly announced that it was his inten- tion to destroy the British Empire and extend the German state over its ruins. This fact naturally made Germany and Great Britain enemies and led to that ‘‘encircling policy”’ which gave Britain her safeguard against extinction.&#13;
The construction of a huge air fleet is not so positive a challenge to Great Britain as was the building of the mighty dreadnaughts that could only be used against the apparently impregnable empire. The purpose of France is unquestionably protection against Germany and perhaps Russia. It is part of that general security against an attack from across the Rhine which is the one aim of French state- craft at the present time. Germany is said to be building a large number of commercial air- planes, readily convertible for war purposes, and France intends to be stronger in the air than her rival. Unfortunately, however, air craft completely demolishes the strategic&#13;
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AN AIRPLANE CARRIER—THE Langley&#13;
Be.ore the World War the greatest armament race was between Great Britain and Germany.&#13;
navies that were being built.&#13;
In that case it was&#13;
The Washington Conference ended, at least for a period of years, the post war naval&#13;
armament race, but already a serious and similar race between Great Britain and France is being run—this time over aircraft—and other nations, including the United States, are forced to follow suit&#13;
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position which has been England’s safeguard for thousands of years. The keystone of English history has been the fact that she is an island. This explains much in her de- velopment politically and governmentally, for it has bestowed the inestimable gift of security. But the airplane is rapidly as- suming a position of preéminence in warfare; many experts believe that it will be the de- cisive factor in any future conflict. In that event Great Britain loses her insularity; she becomes at a stroke a continental power, just as easily invaded as Germany or France, and just as difficult to protect. The mere fact that a great military power possesses a tremendous fleet that can be.as readily hurled against England as against a con- tinental country suggests infinite possibilities in the future politics of Europe.&#13;
“White Collar’ Recruits for the Manual Trades&#13;
MOVEMENT, recently launched in A New York and other large cities, prom- ises to have wide sweeping industrial and social consequences. Its purpose is to&#13;
persuade native American boys, the grad-&#13;
uates of American public schools, to desert the overpopulated and poorly paid “white collar’? occupations and to join the ranks of the manual workers. In New York the ap- prenticeship commission of the Building Con- gress is conducting th's campaign, and the fact that it is already meeting with marked success promises much for the future of Am- erican industry.&#13;
The high wages paid manual workers, and the low wages paid other more polite indoor occupations, is one of the most extensively advertised facts of the times. The $12 or $13 a day obtained by brick layers and plasterers is constantly contrasted with the $4 or $5 paid bank clerks and other office employees. But the explanation of these disparities is no secret. There is a great scarcity of brick- layers, but there is no particular scarcity of “adding machines.” Bricklayers and other manual workers can consequently dictate the prices they shall be paid, while their more neatly attired contemporaries are obliged to take what they can get. The scarcity of skilled workers in certain trades, expecially the building trades, is so great that the situation, unless relief is immediately forth-&#13;
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coming, is likely to become critical. Such relief can be obtained only from the native American population. Immigration, even though the bars are completely lowered, will not provide it, for immigration furnishes re- cruits chiefly of the unskilled variety. Unless American boys can therefore be persuaded to adopt the trades which their fathers fol- lowed, the outlook for American industry is not rosy.&#13;
Is a bookkeeper, a bank clerk, a miscellane- ous office worker necessarily a more dignified and a more socially acceptable person than a skilled worker with his hands? All manual workers do not occupy an inferior social sta- tion even under present conditions. Portrait painters and sculptors work with their hands; they “mix their paint with brains,” it is true, but so do the skillful carpenter, the stone mason, and the follower of many a manual trade. The furniture of the handworkers of previou. generations is now assiduously collected for its artistic value. It is hardly necessary to labor this point, however, for the rush to the clean linen brigades was precipi- tated in the days when economic conditions were very different from those of the present time. Twenty years ago a _ bookkeeper earned as much as the mechanic and perhaps more. Much as the sons of working men, commonly the graduates of grammar and high schools, enjoy the social uplift which seems to come with a sedentary and cleanly occupation, the financial reward after all, is the determining one. Most any man will sweep the streets for a living if the wages are made sufficiently high. It is the sad lesson of history that wealth, however obtained, is the consideration which ultimately determines social prestige, and in the long run a brick- layer, earning $75 a week, will probably be a more desired person than a bookkeeper earn- ing $25. Neither, in the important things of life, is the bricklayer’s necessarily a less cleanly job. His greater compensation means that he can live in a better house, wear better clothes —except perhaps when he is at work—give his wife and children more comforts, and in general possess more of the amenities of exis- tence than the poorly paid office worker.&#13;
It is therefore not surprising that the pres- ent movement to interest American boys in the building trades is meeting with encourag- ing success. The Apprenticeship Commission is doing its work in thorough fashion. _ It first&#13;
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of all insists on thorough training. The appren- tices are taught their trades in two ways—on the job and in the trade schools. They obtain comfortable wages and spend two evenings a week increasing their technical knowledge. Up to the present time there has been no lack of ma- terial. Hundreds of boys of the “white collar” va- riety have already ap- plied to the commission, and the unions are co- operating in the work. Apparently the time is not far distant when the ranks of the plasterers,&#13;
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painters, bricklayers, and carpenters will be filled with young men who, ex- cept for this movement, would be spending miser- able lives in the over- crowded office and professional occupations. The extension of the movement into other&#13;
occupations is a natural development of its success in the building trades. Unless, indeed, there is a speedy increase in skilled workmen the future of American industry is dark.&#13;
America’s Reserve Power in Men&#13;
HOSE seeking the fundamental rea-&#13;
sons for a hopeful outlook on American&#13;
life and the American democratic experiment, can find them in the life of the late Justice William R. Day, of the United States Supreme Court. Here was a man who had passed his most active years practising law in a moderate sized Ohio town. He had nearly reached his fiftieth year before his name had become known beyond the borders of his native state. Only the accidental fact that he was the close personal friend of Wil- liam McKinley, the newly elected president, gave him the opportunity of exercising his talents in the national field. The country rather gasped when, in 1897, Judge Day was called to Washington as first assistant sec- retary of state—a position which, because of the feebleness of the nominal Secretary, John&#13;
ARE OFFICE WORKERS TAKING UP MANUAL LABORY This photograph was taken ina Y. M.C. A. school in which office workers are being taught tile and brick laying, carpentry, and other manual trades. clerks and other office workers is responsible for the increased interest in the higher&#13;
The low wages of&#13;
paid manual trades&#13;
Sherman, really signified the actual headship of this most important department. What qualifications did this “country lawyer” possess for such a difficult post? What did he know of foreign policies, international af- fairs, and the pressing problems then facing the department? Hardly had Judge Day reached Washington when the United States found itself at war with Spain. Judge Day, as acting secretary, had on his hands the greatest diplomatic crisis since the Civil War, for, in addition to the troubles with Spain, there was the constant threat of a Euro- pean coalition against this country. Here certainly the “country lawyer’ had the chance of showing his statesmanship, or his lack of it. The fact is that Judge Day made one of the greatest reputations of the Spanish American War. Without a flaw he piloted the country through that crisis and through the peace negotiations that followed it. “Dav,” remarked President Mckinley, “never made a single mistake’’; and this likewise represented the judgment of the Na- tion. In his subsequent career on the bench he manifested the same qualities of high in- tellect and high purpose, and died one of the most honored citizens of his country.&#13;
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THE LATE WILLIAM RUFUS DAY Secretary of State under President McKinley, chairman of the U. S. Peace Commissioners who negotiated the Treaty of Paris at the close of the war with Spain, and associate justice of the Supreme Court of the United&#13;
States from 1903 until his recent death&#13;
The phenomenon is not an isolated one in American life. The fact that men, hitherto obscure, who are suddenly and accidentally lifted to high place so frequently accomplish their task with distinction makes one won- der how great is the multitude of unused talents in the country to-day. It raises the deeper question whether democracy really utilizes or wastes its finest material, and whether it actually does possess the boasted power of bringing its natural leaders to the front. Perhaps it doesn’t do this in ordinary times, yet the fact is that whenever there is important work to be done in this country the man invariably appears who can do it. For- eign critics who find much that is unlovely in our public life overlook the really determining fact, and that is America’s mighty reserve power in men. The mayors, the governors, the congressmen, and the senators who super- ficially seem to be dominating events do not invariably do so. In the daily routine they perhaps hold the centre of the stage; at crises, however, whenever great things are to. be&#13;
done, they disappear as influential forces, and the men of capacity and public purpose obtain control. The.citizenship of this coun- try is a great reservoir of talent and character; whenever the Nation needs a leader it can usually find him, and in this lies the explana- tion of our success in the past and our hope for the future.&#13;
The Late John M. Siddall&#13;
EW editors of American magazines have achieved such success as came to the late John M. Siddall, whose recent&#13;
death, under distressing and heroic circum- stances, has focussed widespread attention upon certain remarkable aspects of his career. The most important service that can be ren- dered by an editor to his publication is to cause it to be read. That is the reason why it is published. This does not necessarily mean that the only successful editor is the one who secures millions of readers. The accomplish- ment of Mr. Ellery Sedgwick, in increasing the circulation of The Atlantic Monthiv from 10,000 to considerably more than 100,000, is guite as remarkable as that of Mr. Siddall, in pushing the circulation of The American Magazine from 400,000 to nearly 2,000,000. The successful editor is the one who supplies the periodical wants of a certain well defined segment of our population, and who does this so skillfully that he succeeds in drawing within the fold all the accessible units in that public. Judged by this standard “Sid” was one of the most successful practitioners of his art. He apparently had an unfailing instinct for the kind of thing his particular public desired.&#13;
Much emphasis has been laid upon his con- stant sounding of the personal appeal, and of his insistence on the helpful and cheerful aspects of existence. He hated muckrakers with a sleepless hatred. This is especially remarkable—and perhaps especially signifi- cant—for Mr. Siddall began his career as a muckraker himself. His first magazine as- sociation was with the old McClure’s; he helped Miss Ida M. Tarbell collect the mater- ial which she embodied in her history of the Standard Oil Company—the book chiefly responsible for the avalanche of destructive anti-business and anti-corporation writing that was the distinctive feature of magazine literature fifteen and twenty years ago. Mr.&#13;
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Siddall’s conception of the magazine as the preacher of optimism, as the text book of suc- cess, and as the builder of material and moral efficiency was therefore not spontaneous; it was an evolution. Probably the real fact is that he himself merely evolved with the times, and that in itself is an indispensable editorial quality. The red muckraking school served its purpose in the creation of a healthy public sentiment in this country. It represented in journalism the same thing that Roosevelt represented in statesmanship. But, as is the case with most successful developments, it fell into abuse at the hands of charlatans and mere profit-seeking sensationalists. Mr. Sid- dall was wise in seeing that the public had reached a point when it preferred to observe its virtues rather than its vices, to build up rather than to tear down, and on this dis- covery he constructed one of the most success- ful editorial careers of his time.&#13;
Fiftieth Birthday of the Typewriter&#13;
such a magazine as the WorLp’s Work would have been laboriously written in long-hand; to-day almost every word of it, and almost every word employed in business correspondence or intended for the printing press is typewritten. The germ of this enor- mously important mechanical development, which, with the exception of the telephone, has done more than anything else to put the external stamp on modern business, orig- inated with a man whose name is popu- larly almost unknown—Christopher Latham Sholes, a printer and publisher of Milwaukee. To celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Sholes’s first successful typewriter, the Herki- mer County Historical Society of Herkimer, New York, has recently issued a booklet on “The Story of the Typewriter,” which con- tains some absorbingly interesting material. There had been attempts at mechanical writing long before Sholes’s day. Henry Mill, an English engineer, took out a patent in 1714, for ‘“‘an artificial machine or method for the impressing or transcribing of letters singly or progressively, one after another, as in writing, whereby all writing whatsoever may be en- grossed in paper or parchment so neat and exact as not to be distinguished from print.” But although Mill claimed that he had “lately invented and brought to perfection”&#13;
| N 1873 every scrap of copy that went into&#13;
The March of Events&#13;
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THE LATE JOHN SIDDALL Whose success as editor of the American Magazine was&#13;
recently brought to a close by his tragic death. Under his control the American rose from a magazine of medi- ocre reputation to be the leader of its particular field&#13;
this remarkable machine, no model of it was preserved. The first American patent was granted to William A. Burt in 1829. Other patents were Charles Thurber’s in 1843 and 1845, Oliver T. Eddy’s in 1850, and A. Ely Beach in 1856. The ’fifties and ’sixties yielded a number of other writing machines, all of which failed because they were too slow. It remained for Christopher Sholes to provide the element of speed.&#13;
Sholes, in company with Carlos Glidden and Samuel W. Soulé, began work on a writing machine in the spring or summer of 1867, on the immediate suggestion of an article in the Scientific American quoting from a London periodical an account of John Pratt’s “ Ptero- type’”’—an early machine as clumsy as its name. As none of the three men was a ma- chinist, they enlisted Matthias Schwalbach from a near-by machine shop to assist them. The first machine was completed in the fall of 1867 and the first patent taken out in June, 1868. There followed, for Sholes, a series of heart-breaking years such as seems to be the&#13;
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THE FIRST TYPEWRITER Or, at least, the typewriter now in the National Museum in Washington and on which, fifty-five years ago, the patent was granted. This machine, while preceded by a number of others, was the first really to be capable of speed. It was the invention of C. L. Sholes&#13;
raed ye&#13;
purgatory of most great inventors. James Densmore, a_ two-fisted business man of Meadville, Pennsylvania, furnished the com- mercial and temperamental ‘“‘ push” without which the enterprise would hardly have been kept going through the lean period. For six years Sholes made model after model, twenty- five or thirty in all, each revealing some defect which had to be remedied. Even at the end he was not sure of the value of his inven- tion. “You know my apprehension is that the thing may take for a while,” he wrote in June, 1872, “and for a while there may be an active demand for them, but that, like any other novelty, it will have its brief day and be thrown aside. Of course | earnestly hope that such will not be the case, and Densmore laughs at the idea when | suggest it, but | should like to be sure that it would be other- wise.’ This same fear was entertained about the automobile; and the telephone, when first introduced, was described as a “‘pretty electric toy” that would soon lose its novelty.&#13;
The commercial history of the typewriter began in March, 1873, when Densmore per- suaded the firm of E. Remington and Son at Ilion, New York, to buy the manufacturing rights. With this stage Sholes’s direct con- nection with the enterprise ended, although he ‘‘continued active in the invention of type- writer improvements during the greater part of his remaining days.” “Sholes, either at&#13;
this time or shortly after,”’ according to “‘ The Story of the Typewriter,” ‘is said to have sold out his royalty rights to Densmore for $12,000, a goodly sum in those days, but the only reward, so far as we know, that he ever received for his priceless invention and the years of labor he had bestowed upon it.” Sholes died in Milwaukee in 1890, after years of ill health.&#13;
The labor of perfecting the new machine fell largely upon William K. Jenne, who be- came superintendent of the Remington type- writer shop. It was a long and trying task. But with the Remington model No. 1, which was put on the market fifty years ago this fall, the principal characteristics of the modern typewriter were fixed. “It had the step-by- step escapement mechanism which caused the letter-spacing travel of the paper carriage. It had type bars on which type was mounted which printed at a common centre. It fed the paper around a cylinder on the paper car- riage. It was equipped with a line spacing and carriage return mechanism. It printed through a ribbon, which traveled across the printing point with the movement of the car- riage. It had the standard number of print- ing keys, placed in four rows, and the char- acters on these keys, and the corresponding type bars, followed the arrangement now known as ‘universal.’ To these fundamental features the Model 2 Remington of 1878 added the shift-key mechanism, with two types mounted on a single bar.” .&#13;
The machine’s commercial progress was slower than its mechanical improvement, and it was a decade or more before it came into anything like extensive use. In this respect it differed from the telephone, with which it competed rather unsuccessfully for honors at the Philadelphia Centennial in 1876.&#13;
Sholes was a gentle, lovable, and modest man who in later years “ remarked to a friend that he had been trying all his life to escape becoming a millionaire and thought he had succeeded admirably.”” He gave his own opinion of the most important aspect of his work in a conversation shortly before his death: “I do feel that | have done something for the women who have always had to work so hard.” It might not be difficult, in fact, to trace a connection between the in- creasing freedom of woman and those twin inventions which she has so largely taken over —the typewriter and the telephone.&#13;
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New York in ihe Year 2000—29,000,000 Population?&#13;
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HE Committee on Plan of New York and Its Environs, a civic body which has undertaken a regional survey of the&#13;
metropolitan area, has recently published an&#13;
astounding estimate of probable population growth in the “ New York region” during the next eighty years. The area selected for this study, which was made by Professors Ray- mond Pearl and Lowell J. Reed of Johns Hop- kins University, include not only the territory now known and governed as Greater New&#13;
York, but also adjacent districts in New York&#13;
state, Connecticut, and New Jersey which are&#13;
well within the clearly defined “commuting zone.” This area has a present population of eight or nine million, ar.d Professors Reed&#13;
and Pearl predict that it will have 11,500,000&#13;
iN 1930; 14,100,000 in 1940; 16,800,000 in&#13;
1950, and so on until it reaches 28,800,000 in&#13;
the year 2000. Greater New York will then&#13;
number 18,000,000 souls—if human beings under such pressure still possess souls.&#13;
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n LOWER BROADWAY, NEW YORK&#13;
a The recently announced prophecy concerning New . York’s population in the near future has caused much comment concerning the desirability, or otherwise, of Tr&#13;
building up a city of 29,000,000 population, which the city planners expect within eighty years&#13;
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WILL NEW&#13;
YORK ULTIMATELY THIS.&#13;
If, as is expected by those who have studied New York’s growth, the city continues enlarging and quad- ruples its present population it may be filled with buildings such as the ones suggested by this drawing. his idea has resulted from an architect’s study of the tendencies and laws that will govern future construction&#13;
LOOK LIKE&#13;
Apparently these predictions were as care- fully worked out as any could be with the data now at hand. Professors Pearl and Reed have developed a formula “which is believed to express the fundamental law of normal population growth,” although they concede the existence of “disturbing factors in population trends.’’ They even venture to compute the probable number of the foreign- born eighty years from now, and also the probable number of Negroes.&#13;
Surveys such as this are of the utmost im- portance in so far as they lend aid to practical plans for meeting coming problems. The programme of the Committee on Plan is in every way admirable. Yet for accuracy’s sake these predictions should be regarded as precisely what they are—guesses based on the best available information, but still guesses. To map out accurately the future progress of New York City one must suppose that existing tendencies will persist. One&#13;
must assume a stable, or a consistently rising&#13;
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or falling birthrate. One must assume a stability of industrial and commercial condi- tions which is by no means warranted. Greater New York is primarily the resultant of a certain industrial technique. An altera- tion in this technique might put a stop to the city’s growth, or even reduce its population.&#13;
It is by no means certain that the era of intense congestion is not approaching a close. Or it may be that while the growth of urban populations will continue, the growth of the half-dozen plethoric great cities has nearly reached a limit. Even in New York State the percentage of increase is considerably greater in urban territory outside the metro- politan area than in the greater city itself. The next competition may be between the smaller city—let us say the city of 200,000 or less—and the greater, rather than between city and country. At almost any moment an invention or series of inventions, affecting manufacture or transportation, may make the larger community hopelessly inefficient. In other words its overhead may become too heavy to be carried profitably. Regional electric power centres might, for example, bring about this result.&#13;
“In the great movement of humanity here and there across the continent,’ writes Wil- liam Rossiter in his census monograph on “Increase of Population: 1910-1920,” “ there are likely to appear relatively less and less violent population changes as settlement and development of natural resources tends to become complete; hence, succeeding censuse no doubt will reflect a slowing down of the urban movement.’”’ Urban territories, in fact, must rely more upon natural increase and less upon immigration or migration from rural districts. These and other factors, together with the possible cultivation of a certain degree of common sense about such matters may prevent the creation of the appalling community of 29,000,000 people for which the Committee on Plan of New York and Its Environs is so heroically preparing.&#13;
A Decade of Workmen’s Compensation&#13;
NE need not be very old to remember&#13;
when workmen’s compensation was a&#13;
radical’s dream, and American courts&#13;
were solemnly and conscientiously upholding the “fellow servant”’ doctrine and the rule of with&#13;
contributory negligence, the result&#13;
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of denying all relief to injured workers in dangerous industries.&#13;
“There is a tendency,’ wrote Roscoe Pound, ten years ago, “ to revive the primitive idea of liability without fault, not only in the form of wide responsibility for agencies em- ployed, but in placing upon an enterprise the burden of repairing injuries incident to the undertaking without fault of him who con- ducts it. What Dean Ames called ‘the un- moral standard of acting at one’s peril’ is coming back into the law in the form of em- ployer’s liability and workmen’s compensa- tion. There is a strong and growing ten- dency, where there is no blame on either side, to ask. in view of the exigencies of social jus- tice, who can best bear the loss.”’&#13;
But it has taken a decade to work out a satisfactory answer to this question, and many more vears will be required, in all probability, before the problems of waiting time, amount of compensation, state versus private insurance, and so forth, will be dis- posed of with anything like justice and preci- sion. A common, and apparently well- founded cause of complaint at present is that the waiting time is too long, so that the em- ployee receives nothing for minor injuries, even though they cost him as much as two weeks’ wages, and also that the scale of com- pensation does not provide adequately for permanent disablement. Another difficulty is to decide between a state monopoly of insurance and competitive public and private insurance. The advantages of a govern- mental monopoly are obvious; so, also, until state civil service can be brought to a higher level of efficiency, are its disadvantages.&#13;
In New York State, which is in many ways representative, the waiting period is two weeks, except in cases of permanent dis- ability; the minimum sum paid is $8 and the maximum $20 weekly; and the maximum death benefit is $83.33 monthly. During the nine-vear period since the enactment of the law, according to a report by the State In- dustrial Commissioner, Bernard L. Shientag, the total sum of $125,000,000 has been paid to 400,000 claimants—an average of a little over $300 each. At first, claims for compensation were about 35,000 a year; now they are about 60,000. As there are 300,000 industrial ac- cidents in the state annually it appears that only one in five is compensated. In addition there are many accidents which are never re-&#13;
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ported. The death list alone is 1,300 an- nually. In 1922 the benefits actually paid were $15,000,000, and the estimated economic loss amounted to about $100,000,000.&#13;
Commissioner Shientag, like most students of the problem, is in favor of shortening the waiting period. He points out that few, if any, employers would now care to return to “the old technical, unjust, inhuman, un- civilized method of common law negligence actions for industrial accidents.” But even more important is the reduction of the total number of accidents, which will not only save a vast amount of human suffering, but will also lower insurance rates and in other ways diminish the cost to the employer. Of the vast annual total of 300,000 accidents Mr. Shientag believes that at least half can be prevented. Safety appliances are in general use, yet negligence on the employer’s as well as the employee’s part is far toocommon. To drive home this fact and promote a more energetic safety-first campaign, a committee, including representatives of employers, or- ganized labor, and a number of civic organiza- tions was appointed late in July.&#13;
Workmen’s compensation is pernaps the best illustration there is of the practical ac- ceptance of the doctrine of social responsi- bility. It trenches on individualism frankly and extensively for the common good. The principle is developing rapidly and its future manifestations will be worth watching.&#13;
An Equal Rights Amendment&#13;
[es twentieth amendment to the Federal Constitution, if the National Woman’s Party carries out its pur-&#13;
poses as announced at the celebration of the&#13;
seventy-fifth anniversary of the first equal rights convention at Seneca Falls, New York, will read as follows: “Men and women shall have equal rights throughout the United&#13;
States and every place within its jurisdiction.”&#13;
“The amendment as drawn has one great&#13;
advantage when we have to deal with poli-&#13;
ticians,” said Miss Alice Paul, in introducing it to the conference, “It is so simple that they cannot say, “We are for it in principle but we are against a certain word in the tenth para- graph.’ It forces everybody to take a stand on the direct point of equal rights.”’&#13;
Yet there is an aspect of this amendment which has caused misgivings among those&#13;
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ALICE PAUL For eleven years an officer of the National Woman’s Party and its predecessors and recently sponsor of a resolution demanding absolute equality of women and men before the law&#13;
who are most willing to assent to its principle. This is the possibility that it would not only remove the remaining legal discriminations against women, but would also lead the courts to hold invalid legislation specially designed to protect woman workers. The “rights” of woman may be held to include the right to work more than eight hours, or to do night work, or to accept insufficient wages, even where there now exists state legislation deny- ing these “rights.’”’ The question is whether the Woman’s Party is not throwing away the substance in its effort to secure the shadow. At least this is a point which ought to be com- pletely cleared up early in the campaign.&#13;
It is apparent to the most casual observa- tion that despite equal suffrage women have not yet won the “equal rights” for which they made their first demand in 1848. Though they have invaded industry, commerce, and the professions they are still shut off, as a rule, from the higher opportunities, and their wages and salaries are almost without exception lower than those paid men doing similar work. This may be due in part to the belief of .em- ployers that women are not as competent as&#13;
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men, but the rule holds in most occupations regardless of the quality or quantity of the work done. Apparently it can be broken down only by a process of education. In this struggle the constitutional amendment can- not help and“ffight hurt.&#13;
After all, men are men and women are women: laws based upon this fundamental fact cannot be assailed on the ground that they recognize distinctions in sex. Evidently men cannot qualify for mothers’ pensions, and laws passed in the interest of maternity necessarily can apply to only one sex. Yet such laws are entirely proper—in no sense can they be regarded as tyrannous. Differences in physiology furnish valid grounds for legislative relief, and cannot be regarded as backward. Certain jurists have asserted that this proposed amendment would wipe all such laws off the books. If so, it is difficult to see how women can seriously advocate it.&#13;
American Philanthropy in London&#13;
HE International Health Board has recently given another striking illus- tration of the way in which America seeks to benefit the world, and has done it in a city where the example can give the most resounding emphasis. This comprehensive organization is making a particular point of increasing facilities for the extension of public hygiene. It has already established or as- sisted schools at Harvard, Johns Hopkins, and other places whose business it will be to train not doctors but public health officers. This profession of guarding the sanitary con- ditions of communities, in preventing rather than in curing disease, is already an import- ant one, but its importance is increasing every year. It is not unlikely that, a generation hence, the sanitarian will be a more impor- tant element in the general well-being of the nation than the physician or the surgeon. Great Britain has made excellent progress in this work; her health services are unusually&#13;
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efficient and her health records among the most complete in the world. England, how- ever, lacks a great school of public health for the training of sanitarians and in 1921 the British University of Health called the atten- tion of the International Health Board to this deficiency. The negotiations that followed resulted in a gift of $2,000,000 for building and equipping a school of Public Hygiene in London. A site has already been purchased in Gower Street, near the British Museum and the building, when finished and equipped, will be maintained by the British Govern- ment. It will influence health conditions, not only in Great Britain, but in the whole British empire and in Europe generally.&#13;
A Letter From The New Republic&#13;
Editor Wor.tp’s Work Dear Sir:&#13;
On page 245 of your July issue you say, referring to the International Court of Justice that ‘‘the advanced weeklies, the New Re- public, the Nation, the Survey and others of less importance are crying fiercely on its heels.”&#13;
In so far as the New Republic is concerned this statement is entirely without foundation and | cannot imagine what basis you can have supposed yourself to have for making it. Inits issue of April 18, page 201, the New Republic in an editorial entitled ‘“‘An Interna- tional Program for the American People” endorsed a proposal that ‘“‘the President and the Senate coéperate in an attempt to secure an international court of justice with ob- ligatory and comprehensive jurisdiction but without the sanction of force.” The New Re- public has published nothing of an editorial character in any subsequent issue which is in any way incompatible with this declaration; and it has certainly published nothing which justifies the statement in your editorial re- ference.&#13;
Sincerely, Bruce BLIVEN&#13;
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The War in the Churches&#13;
The Great Split in the Protestant Denominations, Over the Issue of Fundamentalism&#13;
By ROLLIN LYNDE HARTT&#13;
NLY the other Sunday, in his great stone church a_ block from Broadway, a distinguished clergyman, Dr. Frank Good- child, described the impending&#13;
return of Christ.&#13;
He will return twice, we were told. When first He returns, the righteous, with lustrous bodies shining like light, will be caught up to meet Him in the air, and next morning the papers will report innumerable strange dis- appearances—for instance, how a traveller, on reaching home, found that his devoted wife had vanished unaccountably, or how mother and daughter were sitting together in a room and talking, when suddenly the mother was snatched away. The following Sunday, congregations will be cut in half, all the best people missing.&#13;
Then wickedness will rage for seven years, after which Christ will return again, with His church, to bring such terror as this world has never known. The clergyman pictured a stock exchange in time of panic, pictured the Johnstown flood, pictured a sinking liner and said that all such scenes of consternation were nothing to what was coming.&#13;
Dr. Goodchild is a Fundamentalist. At the start of my recent three-thousand mile journey among the Fundamentalists, Dr. Jasper Massee, famous pastor of Tremont Temple in Boston, had pointed him out as thoroughly representative. Being a leader of Fundamentalists, himself, Dr. Massee should know.&#13;
Not less prominent in New York City is Dr. |. M. Haldeman, who declares that Christ will return ‘‘with garments dipped in blood, the blood of others,” and ‘‘enunciate His claim by terror and might.” He will ‘tread and trample in His fury till the blood of men shall fill the earth.”’ He ‘will come to His glory, not as the Saviour meek and lowly, but as a king, an autocrat, a despot, through the blood of a trampled world.”&#13;
Dr. Shailer Mathews, sitting at President&#13;
Harper’s old desk in the divinity school of the University of Chicago, told me that the Fundamentalists now control about a quarter of the evangelical churches in the East, about half the evangelical churches in the Middle West and South, and about three quarters of the evangelical churches in the Far West. Their own estimates run higher. ‘Nine tenths of the laity are with us,”’ they say, and everywhere the doctrine of the Second Com- ing, in one form or another, is insisted upon. In the office of his huge church in Fort Worth, Texas, Rev. J. Frank Norris explained why.&#13;
Says Norris: “If a man tells me he believes in God, | don’t know what he believes; | don’t know whether he believes in the Pantheistic view of God, or in the Deistic view of God, or in the personal God. If a man tells me he believes in the inspiration of the Scriptures, | | still don’t know what he believes; he might claim universal inspiration, and say the Bible was inspired in the same way that Shake- speare was inspired. If a man tells me that he believes in the divinity of Christ, I still don’t know what he believes: he might say he believes all men are divine.&#13;
‘“‘But when a man tells me he believes in the literal, personal, bodily, visible, imminent return of the Lord to this earth as king, | know what he believes on every other ques- tion. | know that he believes the Bible literally. | know what he believes concerning the Godhead, | know what he believes con- cerning the Virgin Birth, | know what he be- lieves concerning the Atonement, | know what he believes concerning the Resurrection. | know that he is not a modernist, and | know that he does not believe in the evolutionary hypothesis.”’&#13;
Dr. Curtis Lee Laws, editor of the Waich- man-Examiner in New York City, gave Fundamentalism its name. He defines it as merely an uprising of orthodox supernatural- ism against modern naturalism. He tells me he repudiates “fanciful” ideas of the Second Coming but seeks allies amongst those who&#13;
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hold them. Professor J. Gresham Machen of Princeton Theological Seminary, takes the same attitude. ‘Their error, serious though it may be, is not deadly error,’’ he writes, ‘‘and Christian fellowship, with loyalty not only to the Bible but to the great creeds of the church, can still unite us with them.” On the other hand, men and institutions unwill- ing to identify themselves explicitly with the Fundamentalist Movement—or rather Move- ments, as there are at least three—make common cause with the Fundamentalists in their warfare upon modernism.&#13;
Hence a phenomenon. Billy Sunday and Bishop Manning, Dr. Arcturus Zodiac Con- rad and Mr. Bryan, Dr. Clarence Edward Macartney and Dr. Reuben Torrey, Professor Machen and Dr. W. B. Riley, Doctor Good- child and Doctor Laws, Princeton Seminary and the Moody Bible Institute (entrance requirement, “‘a common school education or its equivalent’”’) are all up in arms together, valiantly combatting modernism. In Doctor&#13;
Rollin Lynde Hartt&#13;
Pace, they have a gifted cartoonist. In Pro- fessor Carter, they have a daring satirical poet. In Alfred W. McCann, authorof ‘“‘God- or Gorilla,” they have an anti-evolutionist second to none. Their conventions drav enormous crowds. It is no longer a question whether they are going to split the churches They have split them.&#13;
During my three-thousand-mile journe along the various ecclesiastical battle-fronts | have asked how the conflict began. Doctor Bridgman, former editor of the Congregation- alist, says the World War started it—liter- alists thought the last days were approach- ing. Doctor Cotton, of the Christian Regis- ter, says that the War, with the shock it brought and the nervous overstrain it pro- duced, drove people to extremes, making liberals more liberal, reactionaries more reac- tionary. A Professor at Union Seminary says the War bred a fighting spirit that has outlived the War; also a great fear, with a craving for “something solid” and a return to&#13;
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THE DIVINITY SCHOOL, UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO&#13;
In theological schools, as in pulpits, there are ‘‘ Fundamentalists”’ and “‘ Liberals’’. the Fundamentalists’ strongholds—that is, the Moody Bible Institute.&#13;
In Chicago is one of the greatest 0! Dr. Shailer Mathews, President of the Uni-&#13;
versity of Chicago Divinity School, says that the Fundamentalists control about one quarter of the evangelical churches of the East, about half those of the Middle West and South, and about three quarters of those in the Far West, but&#13;
their own estimates run higher&#13;
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The War in the Churches 471&#13;
“normalcy.” Professor Gilmore, of the Homiletic Review, believes Fundamentalism a consequence of reports by army chaplains. He got down “As Tommy Sees Us: A Book for Church Folks” by Rev. A. Herbert Gray. Opening at random, | read: ,&#13;
‘«T still find among some of the very best of our young men indi- viduals who think that before join- ing the church they must assent to all the intricate dogmas that centuries of thought and contro- versy have gathered round the Christian religion. Though no man has ever understood them, they think they must assent to the baffling statements which out- line the doctrine of the Trinity. Some think they must hold some doctrine of the Atonement, and promptly lose their way among the innumerable views of the Atonement which have been held by good and able men. A few believe that a doctrine of eternal punishment is an essential part of the Christian faith; and at that they turn away. What I! am pleading for is that the church shall offer men a clear and sim- ple presentation of the religion of Jesus divorced from all theo- logical subtleties.”’&#13;
Not unnaturally, readers of “As Tommy Sees Us” asked, “‘In that case, where goes orthodoxy? ’’and when Amer- ica entered the War our own army chaplains reported a condition that prompted a question still more momentous—namely, ‘Where has orthodoxy already gone?”’ Professor William Adams Brown, of Union Seminary, was secre- tary of the General War-Time Commission of the Churches. He has since published ‘‘The Church in America,”’ which thus describes the doughboy’s religion:&#13;
“God was a power controlling destiny, to whom one prayed, but His character was ill- defined, and He could almost as easily be identified with the fatalistic God of Moham- med as with the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Prayer was instinctive and chiefly for personal and private matters. Christ was a vague, ideal figure, not the&#13;
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A CHURCH IN NEW ENGLAND&#13;
New England three hundred years ago was unquestionably solidly **Fundamentalist.”’&#13;
But now the entire East is strongly ‘Liberal’&#13;
personal Savior of traditional religion. The sense of personal sin was conspicuous by its absence. God was Companion and Protector not Judge or Saviour. The Bible was carried even when it was not read, but there was little evidence of intelligent or sympathetic ac- quaintance with its contents.”&#13;
Such revelations, thinks Professor Gilmore, were what started the Fundamentalist Move- ment. All of a sudden, orthodox clergymen recognized that the great historic creeds were losing their hold upon the modern mind, if, indeed, they had not already lost it, and the reasons seemed clear. The modern interpre- tation of the Bible was to blame, thought the orthodox. The evolutionary hypothesis was to blame. A half century of progress was to blame. Liberal preaching was to blame. As&#13;
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Mod- It must be rooted out of the colleges. It must be rooted out of the pulpits. It must be replaced, not with the mild orthodoxy it had so extensively over- thrown, but with an orthodoxy much more&#13;
clear, meanwhile, seemed the remedy. ernism must go.&#13;
dogmatic. And the thing must be done at once. When necessary, it must be done by force.&#13;
Doctor Shailer Mathews sees in Funda- mentalism a natural reaction that would have occurred sooner or later, war or no war. ‘Push a piston far enough one way,” he says, ‘“‘and that piston will come back.” It is coming back at Doctor Shailer Mathews with a vengeance; every little while his spirited fel- low-townsman, Dean Gray, pillories him as an ‘“‘apostate” and an “‘infidel.”’&#13;
But Fundamentalism is not merely a reac- tion. It is also the culmination of a tendency that has been slowly gathering strength for at least thirty years. Time was—not so very long ago, either—when Dean Gray and the Moody Bible Institute appeared anything but formidable. To-day the Institute has twenty- eight buildings. It has a thousand students. Its correspondence department enrolls ten thousand more. It prints a monthly maga- zine. Its colportage association distributes ultra-orthodox books by the million. Far and wide go its graduates, and the distin- guished Fundamentalist leader, Doctor Jas- per Massee, declares, ‘‘In my judgment, the constituency that has gone out from the Moody Bible Institute during the last ten years has saved the evangelical churches of this country.” In Los Angeles, another great Bible Institute—Dr. Reuben Torrey’s— exerts an influence as powerful. Still another flourishes in Boston. There are many be- sides. One and all, they proclaim the “literal, personal, bodily, visible, imminent” return of Christ.&#13;
A book “Jesus Is Coming” by the venerable W. E. Blackstone, appeared in 1808. It argues that the last days are upon us. All signs prove it, affirms the author. After quoting Daniel—‘“‘ shut up the words and seai the book even to the time of the end: many shall run to and fro and knowledge shall be increased,”” he observes, “A comparison of recent years with the present shows a most marvellous increase in both travel and know- ledge.”” Again, he quotes James—‘Go to, now, ye rich men ve have heaped&#13;
   &#13;
Rollin Lynde Hartt&#13;
treasures together for the last days’’—and says, “The accumulation of riches in the hands of a few men is specially characteristic of the present time.” Still again, he quotes Amos on the restoration of Israel, and concludes, “Now, if Isreal is beginning to show signs of national life and is actually returning to Palestine, then surely the end of this dispensation is nigh even at the doors.”&#13;
Writing of Blackstone’s volume, Dean Gray says, “ To the Christian just awakened to the truth of Christ’s second coming | always recommend the book.” The celebrated Fun- damentalist, Doctor Munhall, says, “| hope it will reach the end of the earth for the great good it will do.” Doctor Reuben Torrey says, “| hope it may be as blessed to others as it has been to me.” President John Willis Baer says, “| believe a prayerful and thought- ful reader will get much blessing in reading it.” Robert E. Speer says, “Il remember very well when | first saw the book Jesus Is Coming at Northfield, twenty years ago, and how | studied it then. That summer was the first time the truth of our Lord’s return came to me, and | am very thankful for the thor- ough references to scripture, for the better understanding of that truth and the firmer faith in it which that little book gave me.” Such testimonials have not been fruitless. The book is now in its two-hundred-and-six- tieth thousand.&#13;
Doctor W. B. Riley, president of the Inter- denominational Fundamentals Association has for years proclaimed the Second Coming. “No longer shall this precious truth be left to the erratic and irresponsible!”’ he declares. “Through the lips of sane men and by the pens of the most scholarly the Church of God knows and by the lives of the most saintly, this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world.” For years he has figured impressively at “prophetic conferences.” City after city has had them. A prophetic conference attracts such crowds that thou- sands, eager to hear about the Second Com- ing, have to be turned away.&#13;
In his suite at the Watterson, in Louisville, Rev. W. A. (Billy) Sunday told me that “every man who has been used of God for the saving of souls’’ has believed in the imminent&#13;
return of Christ and preached it. He named Moody. He named Finney. He named a dozen more—‘“premillennarians’” all. No&#13;
matter how transitory may be the results of&#13;
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The War in the Churches&#13;
revivalism in other respects, they are per- manent in this.&#13;
The doctrine presupposed an inerrant Bible, a Bible literally inspired, a Bible equally authoritative throughout. Blandly the liber-&#13;
als have assumed that “in our day” this “Seventeenth Century idea of the Bible” has It is still the A year or so&#13;
been outgrown. It has not. average church-member’s idea. ago, Guy Viskniskki, of the Republic Syn- dicate, opened the New York Times one Sunday, noticed a pic- ture of Mr. Bryan’s immense outdoor Bi- ble Class at Miami, Florida, and wrote at onceto Bryan. In con- sequence, a hundred and ten newspapers now publish the Bryan Bible Talks. They reach between twenty and twenty-five mil- lion people, and enthu- siastic, everywhere, is the response.&#13;
Do the liberals know this? Evidently the liberals do not. The other evening, in an apartment looking out across the Gothic quadrangle of a fa- mous theological sem- inary, a distinguished liberal spoke of Fund- amentalism as at once a lost cause anda tribute to the strength of liberalism. “We are winning,” he said, and so it appears—to dwellers in apart- ments looking out across the Gothic quad- rangle of famous theological seminaries. They have won the colleges—mainly. They have won the divinity schools—largely. They have won the educated ministers—partly. In church councils attended by an elite, they generally triumph. They lead many leaders; but the great mass of the people—where are they? What the liberals disregard is the huge and long-exerted influence of aged clergymen, of Princeton Seminary and its orthodox congeners, of the Sunday School&#13;
 &#13;
REV. J. FRANK NORRIS One of the leading ‘“‘Fundamentalists’’ who has an- nounced in a headline printed in red in his paper, pub- lished in Ft. Worth, Texas, that ‘War is declared— Second Coming of Christ is Issue!”’&#13;
473&#13;
Times, of prophetic conferences, of tracts, of cartooning, of the book now in its two- hundred-and-sixtieth thousand, of Billy Sun- day, of the Northfield - gatherings, .of . Bible Institutes (entrance requirement, “a common school education, or its equivalent’’), and of a pietism which, though supposedly moribund, has crusaded against evolution in seven states, terrorized numerous universities, inspired a nation-wide uprising against modernism, and made William Jen- nings Bryan the most influential preacher on earth, for so he is.&#13;
Dr. Albert C. Dief- fenbach, fearless editor of the Christian Regi- ster, was the first to see a menace in Funda- mentalism. He acted. Recognizing the gen- eral composure among liberals, he acted with vigor—as he tells me, “ate raw meat, got red- eyed, and went at it.” In “The Madness of the Second Coming,” he called Fundamen- talism ‘‘a religious Ku Klux” and a “creed of * force’’ whose propo- nents have “‘circulated more tracts, pamph- lets, sermons, and books than the total output of all the de- nominational publish- ing houses.” A South- ern Methodist, Bishop Edwin D. Mouzon, expressed himself as boldly regarding the Fundamentalist belief in the Second Coming. Saidhe, “Every great war has brought about a revival of premillennian- ism, but modern premillennianism is the worst form of the doctrine that has ever been seen.”&#13;
As a rule, however, the liberals console themselves by underestimating the enemy’s strength. The enemy “lacks brains,” they say, and it was noticeable that the letters written to Doctor Percy Stickney Grant on wrapping paper or on pages torn from note- books quite uniformly condemned him. But&#13;
 &#13;
Rollin Lynde Hartt&#13;
stationery is not everything. The worse the stationery the more impressive the numbers.&#13;
Then, too, its opponents describe Funda- mentalism as “an old gentleman’s movement which will die out as the old gentlemen die off.’”’ But, while Doctor Gray is seventy-two and Doctor Munhall eighty, and while Mr. Bryan, Rev. W. A. Sunday, and Doctors Rily, Conrad, Goodchild, and Torrey have passed sixty, Doctors Massee and Laws are still in the fifties, Doctor Straton is forty- eight, Rev. J. Frank Norris forty-five, Doctor Macartney forty-three, and Professor Machen was a classmate of Doctor Macartney’s at Princeton.&#13;
Moreover, | keep hearing that the Funda- mentalist notables are “men born and edu- cated in the South.” Of Rev. J. Frank Norris, and Doctors Massee and Laws, this is true. But Doctors Massee and Laws are both Northerners now, and Fort Worth, where Rev. J. Frank Norris spends half his time, is not a Southern City. It is Western. Doctor Riley, born in Indiana, is said to have got his idea of the Second Coming at the great Southern Baptist Seminary in Louis- ville. The Seminary denies that any such&#13;
idea was ever taught there, and Doctor Riley&#13;
now heads a Bible Institute in Indianapolis.&#13;
Still again, | hear that the Fundamentalist Movement “lacks a leader,’ and so it does —at present. Fundamentalism has only started. No one man started it. It is a result of simultaneous uprisings all over the country. Organization, with accredited lead- ership, will come later. Potential leaders abound, and among them the strongest, shrewdest, and most romantically adventur- ous is J. Frank Norris, of Fort Worth, Texas.&#13;
In Fort Worth, opinion regarding Norris is divided. One faction says he “totes a gun,” the other says he “totes two guns.”” Several years ago his enemies got him tried “for burn- ing up his church.” He was acquitted. Later on, a mass-meeting ordered him out of town. Legend recounts that he and his merry men prepared to defend themselves with a machine-gun. | asked him about that. “No,” he replied, “all we had was sawed-off shot-guns.”’&#13;
Though a fellow-clergyman still remarks that “ Bill Hart has nothing on Frank,” things are quieter now. Many of “Frank’s” former foes adore him, as does half the community. Buildings covering a block and more attest his&#13;
success, and his auditorium, when alteration are complete, will hold six thousand applau- sive adherents, with a choir of seven hundred The tower is to be surmounted by a battleship searchlight visible for thirty-two miles.&#13;
Recently his paper—circulation 55,000 (| saw the affidavit)—proclaimed in red head- lines, “WAR IS DECLARED—SECONI) COMING OF CHRIST IS ISSUE!” Nailed to the door of his church, meanwhile, was « huge poster announcing his “World Conven- tion of Fundamentalists.” The array of celebrated speakers included William Jennings Bryan.&#13;
Prince of crowd-gatherers, paragon of ad- vertisers, and a sensationalist of the first order, Norris has created a new profession, that of the church-efficiency expert, and is its most brilliant practitioner. Heralded as “the Texas cyclone,” he will enter any city you choose to name, lay hold to some dodder- ing, dead-and-alive downtown church, draw crowds into it, galvanize them, get the glori- ously revivified institution financed, and erect a living, lasting monument to his abilities. After witnessing his performance in Cleveland, Dr. W. W. Bustard declared that in the ser- vice of a business corporation Norris’s genius would be worth $50,000 a year. He under- stated the case.&#13;
It is true that Norris’s belief in “the literal, personal, bodily, visible, imminent return of the Lord to this earth as King”? somewhat limits his leadership. It is “fanciful” as Doctor Laws would say. According to Pro- fessor Machen, it is an “error.” According to many, it is destructive of civic conscience and of all humanitarianism. President Faunce emphasized this in Providence. He said, “Such people have no patriotism, no interest in public affairs, no desire to make the world better; they just wait for the King to come.” '&#13;
Frequently their own literature gives that impression. Says the Christian Workers’ Magazine, “Democracy (self-government) is the antithesis of autocracy—God’s ideal of government.” “‘We may say we need a democ- racy,” writes Doctor Torrey; “what we need is an emperor—Kaiser Jesus.” Doctor Brooks, discussing the principles underlying democracy, tells us, ““ Man has no inalienable right except the right to be damned.”’ Among such thinkers the movement for world peace wins no approval. “All our present peace&#13;
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The War&#13;
plans will end in the most awful wars this old world ever saw,” says Doctor Torrey, and when the recent conflict was raging he confessed, “ The darker the night gets, the lighter my heart gets.” The author of ‘“‘Behold the Morn- ing’ cheerfully despairs of human- ity altogether. “The entire race will be insane in a few centuries,” he predicts.&#13;
Conspicuous on a front table in a famous Fifth Avenue bookshop in New York, is the recently pub- lished volume, “‘Satan: His Per- sonality, Power, and Overthrow,” by Dr. Edward M. Bounds. Loud- ly Doctor Bounds condemns the “taking, man-savouring, Satanic” idea that “the main object of the church to-day is not so much to save individuals out of society as to save society.”’ Continuing, he declares, “This popular, seduc- tive, and deadly fallacy entirely subverts the very foundation of Christ’s church.” He especially abhors the “modern church with its kitchen and parlor, with its club and lyceum, and with its ministries to the flesh and to the world. The church cannot con- federate with non-spiritual agen- cies. She cannot be the purveyor to unsanctified desires. Neither is it her province to fall down to the beggarly task of entertain- ing the people.”’&#13;
No such dreadful doctrines as the foregoing affect Rev. J. Frank Norris. After starring enthusiastically in two Prohibition fights, he gave John Barleycorn a funeral a mile long. “As by-products,’’ he prizes all the “Satanic’”’ agencies condemned by Dr. Bounds. His church is an institutional church, magnificently equipped.&#13;
But it little matters who will lead the Fundamentalist Movement. The important question is, Whither will the Fundamentalist Movement be led? Talking with President Faunce at Brown University, I said, “We already have two hundred and two denomina- tions. Are we going to have four hundred and four?” He answered, ‘““Why not two— one Liberal, the other Fundamentalist?”&#13;
in the Churches&#13;
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: ~ ee © Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
A CHAPEL IN WASHINGTON&#13;
The fight between the “ Liberals” and the “ Fundamentalists’’ has not&#13;
affected the Catholic church, but the Episcopalian Church, no less than&#13;
the other Protestant denominations, feels the strain of the war between&#13;
those who accept the Bible literally and those who do not.&#13;
‘Liberal’? Episcopalian Minister all but dared a bishop to punish him for his liberal views, and the bishop did not accept the challenge&#13;
Recently a&#13;
That a great schism is inevitable the Funda-&#13;
mentalists and their alliés fully believe. De- clares the Presbyterian, “Rationalism and Evangelicism are antagonists that can never be reconciled; it is vain to try to plaster up a union between them.”’ Similarly, Professor Machen, in “Christianity and Liberalism,” remarks “The plain fact is that Liberalism, whether true or false, is no mere ‘heresy’— no mere divergence at isolated points from Christian teaching. Modern Liber- alism is not only a different religion from Christianity but belongs to a totally different group of religions. The Church of Rome may be a perversion of the Christian&#13;
 &#13;
476&#13;
religion, but naturalistic liberalism is not Christianity at all.”’&#13;
Doctor Macartney, chief opponent of Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick, asserts, “Neither the cry of ‘heresy-hunting’ nor that other cry of ‘dividing the church’ will intimidate those who press for what they regard as a righteous cause. There is no occasion of hunting for heresy, for heresy-is everywhere hunting the church; and as for dividing the church, one might with as good reason have charged the Government of the United States with divid- ing the nation in the Civil War.”&#13;
In conversation, Doctor Macartney speaks of Doctor Fosdick with entire respect. Doc- ter Fosdick speaks as respectfully of his as- sailant. Each understands the other. At the University of Chicago, Doctor Shailer Mathews says, “We are trying to carry this&#13;
thing through in such a spirit that when it is *&#13;
all over there will be no hard feelings.”&#13;
Among Fundamentalists, however, a dif- ferent mood predominates. Cries Professor Machen, “Why should we be indignant about slanders directed against a human friend while at the same time we are patient about the basest slanders against our God?” As hotly the Western Recorder exclaims, “We are in the midst of the most subtle and far-reach- ing apostasy of the ages!” After affirming that “the apostasy now witnessed on every hand was foretold by the New Testament prophets,” the Moody Bible Institute Monthly observes, “As to the source of this apostasy, we should say that it was conceived by the Prince of the Power of the Air.” Dr. Cort- land Myers, meanwhile, indicts the Father- land. “The abomination of abominations,” he thunders, ‘“‘is that rich, rank, rampant, rotten new theology made in Germany,” and Dr. Mark Matthews denounces as angrily “that infamous virus of German theology prepared by the devil himself.”’&#13;
Coming from distinguished leaders, men of saintly lives and sometimes of profound scholarship, such words prevail. Rev. Robert Shuler of Los Angeles predicts “the formation of a mighty body of believers, the strongest and most powerful that ever shook the earth. Call them Fundamentalists or what you like, they are massing from the rivers to the ends of the earth. They are ready to break with any and all denominations when the call of God shall sound.” Rev. C. F. Koehler of Ashland, Oregon, affirms, “The coming battle will&#13;
Rollin Lynde Hartt&#13;
mean a new religious alignment, whereby either the present denominations will disap- pear and two great bodies be formed, or the evangelical Christians will withdraw from the denominations and either form a new church body or continue a wing of the original de- nomination with a new name.” In Phila- delphia, the Presbyterian says, “‘ Let the Liber- als go out from all the denominations and form an organization of their own. These ration- alists usually talk about liberty and rights. Let them use their liberty to go!” With equal earnestness Professor Machen writes, “A separation between the two parties in the church is the crying need of the hour.”&#13;
It is not the conservatives who should with- draw, he contends, and the reason, he tells us, “is found in the trust which the churches hold. That trust includes trust funds of the most definite kind. And contrary to what seems to be the prevailing opinion, we venture to regard a trust as a sacred thing. The funds of the evangelical churches are held under a very definite trust; they are committed to the various bodies for the propagation of the gos- pel as set forth in the Bible and in the confes- sions of faith. To devote them to any other purpose, even though that other purpose should be in itself far more desirable, would be a violation of trust.”’&#13;
The proper course of action, he goes on to say, “is perfectly open to the man who de- sires to propagate ‘liberal Christianity.’ Finding the existing evangelical churches to be bound up to a creed which he does not accept, he may either unite himself with some other existing body or else found a new body to suit himself.” That there are “certian obvious disadvantages in such a course,” Professor Machen admits; it would involve “the aban- donment of church buildings,” a “break in family traditions,” an “injury to sentiment of various kinds.” Moreover, “by with- drawing from the confessional churches— those churches which are founded upon a creed derived from Scripture—the liberal preacher would indeed sacrifice the oppor- tunity, almost within his grasp, of so obtain- ing control of those confessional churches as to change their fundamental character. The sacrifice of that opportunity would mean that the hope of turning the resources of the evangelical churches into Liberalism would be gone.” But the Professor hastens to con- sole the liberal by pointing out “one supreme&#13;
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The War in&#13;
the Churches&#13;
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advantage” which “far overbalances all such dis- advantages.”&#13;
This, he asserts, is “the advantage of honesty.” Though “the path of honesty in such matters may be rough and thorny, it can be trod.” Indeed, “‘it has already been trod—for example, by the Unitarian Church.””. Says Machen, “The Unitarian Church is frankly and honestly just the kind of church that the liberal preacher desires—namely, achurch without an authoritative Bible, without doctrinal requirements, and with- out a creed.”&#13;
As the Professor as- sures us, “Liberalism would certainly not suf- fer in the end. The liberal preacher would obtain the full personal respect even of his op- ponents, and the whole discussion would be placed on higher ground. All would be straight- forward and above- board. And if Liberal- ism is true, the mere loss of physical resources vould not prevent it from making its way.”&#13;
At the Unitarian House in Boston | ob- serve no preparations to accommodate a swarm of deported Liberals, nor do | find among Liberals any eagerness to surrender church property to the Fundamentalists. In the Liberal camp—trenches, | had almost said —l find a general expectation that the pre- dicted grand offensive will fail to eventuate. “There is great sound and fury signifying nothing,” I am told. “It will subside; even now it is subsiding.” Whereas Dr. W. B. Riley is not subsiding. Nor is Doctor Massee. Nor is Doctor Goodchild. Nor is Doctor&#13;
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has developed.&#13;
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PUpRytphet yng?&#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood CHRIST CHURCH, ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA George Washington attended this church, but since his day the war in the churches&#13;
Differences in creed were originally the grounds for the breaking up of churches, and the division of congregations.&#13;
Now evolution and related theories are causing the split&#13;
Laws. Nor is Doctor Torrey. Nor is Pro- fessor Machen. Nor is Dean Gray. Nor is Mr. Bryan. Nor is Rev. J. Frank Norris.&#13;
It was Norris who said to me at the very start of the first talk | had with him, “There is going to be a new denomination.” He named the three distinguished Fundamenta- lists who are about to organize it. Of the present denominations he said, “ We’re going to rip them up.” Soon—he named the time—the ripping will begin. Of the great schism that impends, he said, “It’s going to be a Bull Moose Bolt.”&#13;
 &#13;
BROOKHART,&#13;
HOWELL, AND&#13;
“BROTHER CHARLEY” BRYAN&#13;
The Radical Revolt in lowa and Nebraska&#13;
By CHESTER H. ROWELL&#13;
E most dramatic feature of last&#13;
year’s political upheaval in the&#13;
Western grain states was the con- spicuousness of the personalities affected. These may be “hick”’&#13;
states, far beyond the horizon of metropoli- tan interest, but their representatives have loomed large in the government of the Na- tion. The Senator defeated in North Dakota was Porter J. McCumber, chairman of the Senate’s most powerful committee. Frank&#13;
B. Kellogg, defeated in Minnesota, was a national figure in or out of the Senate. Robert M. LaFollette, whose defeat the same move- ment prevented in Wisconsin, is the most distinguished leader of the radical movement. Albert B. Cummins, of lowa, chairman of the&#13;
Interstate Committee and leader in railroad legislation, was, to be sure, not defeated, since it was not his year to stand for reélection, but his leadership was repudiated by the voters of his own state and he was given as a col- league the most rasping of all the radicals, pledged to undo the very policies which were Cummins’s life work. Gilbert M. Hitchcock, Democratic floor leader on war issues and foreign policies, was defeated in Nebraska. Not only did the radical movement make a clean sweep, but it swept very important personages.&#13;
Previous articles have traced this move- ment through the more radical states con- stituting the Northern half of the group. In North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, as we have seen, not only did the radicals win, but they smashed the traditional American party system.&#13;
In the three states of the Southern half of the group the revolt was the same, but less iconeclastic peoples further from the centre of disturbance used the traditional tools in- stead of forging new ones. lowa, naturally the most conservative of all these states, elected the most aggressively radical Senator&#13;
—but it elected him as a part of the regulai Republican ticket, and his opponent was a Democrat. In Nebraska the radical move- ment used both parties, capturing the Repub- lican nomination for Senator and the Demo- cratic nomination for Governor and electing both its candidates.&#13;
There were of course local factors to confuse the simplicity of these generalizations. The demand for lower taxes went so far as to react against even roads and schools. The Ger- man vote, the World War, and prohibition played their rdle in Nebraska. But the com- mon bases of revolt were the low price of farm products and the high price of every- thing else; high interest, deflated credits, high freights, high taxes, and opposition to the Esch-Cummins Law, to the Federal Reserve Board, to ship subsidy, and to “ Wall Street”’ influences generally.&#13;
Normally and traditionally lowa does not belong in the radical group. Its emer- gence into the radical foreground rests on the personal victory of one man—Senator Smith Brookhart—and on the conditions which made that victory possible. Woodrow Wilson’s “safe and sane lowa” and the boosters’ slogan “sure crop lowa’’ come to much the same thing. One who is sure of his living is rarely radical. If lowa farmers could be as sure of prices as they are of crops, they might vote the Republican ticket for- ever. It was prices that raised the havoc this time. lowa is perhaps the best example of that least typical thing in America, the “typical American” state. Its people are of the old stock, with some German and Scandinavian spots. There are few rich and few poor, but many able to go to Los Angeles even before they die. Practically every acre in lowa is arable and produces a good crop every year. It is doubtful if this can be said in equal degree of any other equal area on earth. Economically lowa is&#13;
?&#13;
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Brookhart, Howell, and ‘Brother Charley” Bryan&#13;
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gal&#13;
a 2 paar 2 . ee ~&#13;
=&#13;
Photograph by Louis Bostwick&#13;
AN IOWA WHEATFIELD WHOSE OWNER PROBABLY VOTED FOR BROOKHART&#13;
Senator Brookhart, the newly elected Iowa radical, outdoes R. B. Howell, the new Nebraska Senator, for Senator Howell although progressive and in favor of many policies not favored by conservatives, is not one of the La Follette group, while Brookhart is one of its most radical members&#13;
unkillable. It may be deflated, but it can- not be collapsed.&#13;
But deflated it was, spectacularly. Prices of farm products had been greatly inflated by the war. Money was plentiful and credit was too easy. Banks encouraged borrowing money to increase Liberty Bond purchases. Federal Reserve rediscounts made the very process of borrowing create the money to borrow. Prices of farm lands rose to impos- sible levels and everybody sought to increase his holdings, often pledging the old farm as well as the new as security. In consequence, much land is now going back to tenantry. And of course there was also much spending for a higher standard of living. The money of the fat years went into everything except reserve for the lean years. Even this could have been endured if it had not been for the swarm of “blue sky”’ swindlers who pounced on the state and took away two hundred mil- lion dollars in good lowa money.&#13;
Then came the collapse, with no reserve to meet it and credit frozen, hitting the farmers&#13;
harder than any other class. Inevitably, such an emergency finds political expression. Aside from the mere fact of revolt, its most significant effect was to bring economic issues to the foreground.&#13;
BROOKHART&#13;
NTO this situation comes Smith W. Brook-&#13;
hart, “cowhide radical.’”’ Brookhart pro- claims that he was born in a log cabin in Missouri and lived in another in Minnesota. Anyhow he grew up a dirt farmer boy in lowa and still keeps close to the soil. He read law and has been practising it for nearly thirty years in Washington, a small town of less than 5,000 inhabitants, in the southeast part of the state. “A typical country lawyer,” a cynical critic described him, “one of the sort that files his papers in a barrel and chaws terbacker.”” He became interested early in life in farm codperation and “read up”’ on the Rochdale system. It is not related that he is otherwise much addicted to the reading habit. He got into rough and ready politics&#13;
 &#13;
!&#13;
480&#13;
and would have liked to go to Congress, but the Burlington railroad, which then ran the politics of his district, would not permit. In- stead of making his peace with the railroad and so achieving his ambition, he has fought it ever since. He joined the Cummins pro- gressive movement and became its leader in his corner of the state. Later he broke with Cummins on his railroad policies.&#13;
Aside from this somewhat inconspicuous career, Brookhart has achieved one real dis- tinction. He is one of the best rifle shots in America. . He joined the lowa National Guard and became its champion marksman and its leader in rifle training. In the World War many European military authorities had concluded that infantry marksmanship is no longer of great importance, and when America entered the war some of our officers were in- clined to the same view. Brookhart went to Washington and “sold” the contrary idea to Secretary Baker. He was made chief in- structor in marksmanship at Camp Benning and Camp Perry schools, and doubtless thereby made a substantial contribution to American success in the war.&#13;
When Senator A. B. Cummins came up for reélection in 1920 the regulars were inclined to let him have the nomination by default. But Brookhart, who does not suffer from bash- fulness and is no respecter of “ regular’? amen- ities, came out as an opposing candidate for the Republican nomination. There were rumors which it is not necessary to verify that he was brought out by the late James Pierce, radical farm journalist. He ran against Cummins largely on the issue of Commins’s famous railroad bill, and made in that conser- vative year the very respectable showing of 97,000 votes against Cummins’s_ 115,000. This made him the obvious leader of any radical movement which might follow at a later election.&#13;
In this campaign of 1920 Brookhart exas- perated Cummins beyond measure by what Cummins styled his “ignorant’’ discussion of the railroad question. ‘“ Economic illiterate,” Cummins called him. But even that epithet is a tribute to the growing importance of econ- omic issues in politics. “Economic’’ was the sort of “illiteracy’’ that was considered a re- proach. Doubtless Brookhart knows even less of literature, art, and sciencethan Cummins thinks he does of economics, but there is no political offense in avowed ignorance of these&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
subjects. As to whether he really is an “econ- omic illiterate,” this is the judgment of an acute observer in Washington: “|. think he knows the economics of farm coéperation very well. On the rest he is a child—but he can learn.”’&#13;
Regularly there would not have been an- other senatorial election in lowa until 1924, but the resignation of Senator William S. Kenyon presented the opportunity two years earlier. Brookhart promptly announced his candidacy, and the lowa Old Guard tried every trick in the old game of politics to fore- stall him—everything except the only things that count in the new game. The only thing they omitted was to present a real leader with a real policy and a real appeal to the people. In fact, their chief effort was to keep the people from having anything to do with it.&#13;
Everything was bungled. The first blunder was to give no outstanding leader the pres- tige of the temporary appointment. Gover- nor Nathan E. Kendall gave the appointment to Charles Rawson, Republican state chair- man and old-time “ regular,’ with the under- standing that he would be a candidate at the election. The next scheme was to prevent any choice at the primary, thereby throwing the nomination into a stacked convention. lowa has a “35 percent. law.”’ That is, if no candidate receives 35 per cent. of all the votes cast at primary there is no nomination, and the place is filled by a convention. So four harm- less candidates came out, to divide the vote and prevent a nomination. It soon became evident that they were fizzling, so grudging welcome was given to the last-minute candi- dacy of Clifford Thorne, former railroad com- missioner, a progressive and a man of ability and reputation. The only effect was to con- centrate support on Brookhart. He received nearly 42 per cent. of all the votes and was nominated. Thorne was a respectable sec- ond. The original lay figures were distanced. Then came the advantage or disadvantage of the partisan system. The convention, duly stacked, repudiated all of Brookhart’s policies, but it did not quite dare repudiate his can- didacy. In lowa all the nominations from Governor to Constable are on party tickets, so the politicians were all interested in the “straight ticket’’ tradition. They had to pre- tend to be for Brookhart—though the vote showed that somebody “knifed’’ him. The&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
A CABBAGE&#13;
diversification in politics.&#13;
PATCH IN Corn is lowa’s staple crop, but the lowa farmer believes in diversification.&#13;
 &#13;
IOWA Just at present he seems also to believe in&#13;
Iowa has long been‘a Republican state but Senator Brookhart is not likely to be of much&#13;
assistance in the purely Republican circles in the Senate, for his affiliations are with La Follette, Shipstead, et al, who are bound by no parties&#13;
Democrats nominated Clyde L. Hering, a suc- cessful business man who had made a fortune&#13;
as State agent for Ford cars. Brookhart was elected by 161,918 majority, while Governor Kendall, conservative, was reélected by 244,383.&#13;
Brookhart’s election is only for the two years of Kenyon’s unexpired term. So the important question is whether he can be el- ected again next year. This perhaps accounts in part for the assertive course and good press- agenting by which he has achieved quick no- tice in the Senate. Brookhart has become news in many ways, ranging all the way from cowhide boots and no dinner coat to leading the filibuster against the ship subsidy bill. Then he went to Europe to study coéperation, and learn even more about his hobby, Roch- dale merchandizing. We shall hear more of him, on this and other subjects.&#13;
The general opinion in lowa is that his re- election is probable. ‘“Brookhart could be beaten,” said the veteran “Lafe’’ Young&#13;
‘&#13;
paradoxically, “except that those who could beat him can’t get the votes.”’ Which strictly speaking means nothing and yet expresses the practical situation very vividly. There is no unity or resourcefulness of leadership on the conservative side. The very complete- ness of the party organization defeats its own end. With all the offices partisan, all the politicians are interested in party solidarity, and Brookhart being an “in,” elected as the regular candidate of the party, the system is self-inhibited from opposing him effectively. There is no way to “draft’’ a strong candidate, and none—-or too many—may volunteer.&#13;
NEBRASKA&#13;
HEN we come to Nebraska we find a&#13;
more radical state producing less rad- ical revolt by party methods intermediate be- tween the orthodoxy of lowa and the unortho- doxy of the North. The radicals won both the Senator and the Governor, but they elec- ted one as a Republican and the other as a&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
482&#13;
Democrat. This involved in the Senatorship, in a year of generally anti-Republican revolt, defeating a democratic Senator, Gilbert N. Hitchcock and substituting a Republican, but it was the same forces, merely using the party machinery in the .opposite direction. The new Senator, R. B. Howell, however, unlike Frazier, Shipstead, and Brookhart, is an ad- vanced progressive rather than a radical, and his personality does not shock the traditions. He is an educated gentleman of ability and means, and is nearer the traditional Senatorial type. The local election for Governor in Neb- raska is also of national interest, chiefly on ac- count of the interesting personality and possi- ble future importance of the new Governor, Charles W. Bryan, “Brother Charley,” brother of the perennial “W.]J.”&#13;
Nebraska is interesting, too, as the best example of Townley’s Non-Partisan League policy of “boring in” to both the old parties.&#13;
Instead of third-party action, the League endorsed Bryan, Democrat, for Governor, and Howell, Republican, for Senator and thereby largely exempted them both from discussing radical or League issues. They knew they had its support (and it theirs) anyway. Both candidates were elected by unprecedented majorities, Howell by 72,085 and Bryan by 46,365. The League had lived up to its name of “non-partisan” and had vindicated by success its policy of “ boring in”’ both ways.&#13;
This election also marked the reconciliation of the ancient feud between William J. Bryan and Senator Hitchcock, which had long divided Nebraska democracy. The Demo- cratic party had first become numerically formidable in Nebraska when Hitchcock won over the German voter to himself by going “wet,” but of course Bryan had opposed him on this, as he did on women suffrage and other matters. The Germans had remained Dem- ocrats with Hitchcock on his bill proposing an embargo on the export of arms early in the World War and with Wilson on_ his “kept us out of war,” but they now repudiated both, on war issues, and were violent Repub- licans again. But now, in the interest of the holy cause of party harmony, and incidentally of “Brother Charley,” Bryan and Hitchcock patched up a compromise. Hitchcock an- nounced that while he had originally opposed both the Eighteenth and Nineteenth amend- ments, he now accepted them as accomplished facts and would support them in every way.&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
This impeccably correct logical policy ap- parently aliented both wets and drys (whose specialty is not logic) but it won him William J. Bryan, who came into the state and cam- paigned for him. ;&#13;
HOWELL&#13;
R. B. Howell, the new Senator, has an in- teresting history. A graduate of the United States Naval Academy in the class of 1885, he served two years in the Navy, and served also as a naval officer in the Spanish-American War and as a naval reserve officer in the World War. Leaving the Navy with impaired health, he first studied law in Detroit and then went West in search of a safer climate. He found it, and health, in Omaha where he has been ever since. He practised civil en- gineering and went into the real estate and brokerage business, at which he acquired a competency. He was state engineer of Ne- braska, city engineer of Omaha, member of the Nebraska State Senate, member of the water board of Omaha since 1904, and since 1912 water commissioner of that city and manager of its public utilities. In 1914 he was Repub- lican nominee for Governor, but was defeated. For the last ten years he has been Republican National Committeeman. Altogether, it will be seen, a long and creditable career of public service.&#13;
But chiefly, Howell has been known as an advocate and administrator of municipally owned public works. As State Senator he secured the legislation which, after long liti- gation, secured Omaha in the municipal owner- ship of its water works, and since its establish- ment he has been the manager of that plant. In 1918 the gas plant was also taken over and he became manager of that. A municipal ice plant has been run as an incidental feature. He has also favored a municipal electric plant, but has as yet only succeeded in beating down the rates of the private companies. In the business management of all these enter- prises he has had marked success, and he has been leading advocate in Nebraska of the policy which they embody.&#13;
When Senator Gilbert M. Hitchcock’s term expired in 1922, Howell became a candidate for the Republican and Hitchcock of course for the Democratic nomination. The pri- mary canvass of both of them was more like a Chautauqua stunt than a political campaign. Neither of them discussed issues. Howell&#13;
 &#13;
Brookhart, Howell, and&#13;
‘Brother Charley” Bryan&#13;
 &#13;
A WHEATFIELD IN THE ELKHORN VALLEY IN NEBRASKA A good yield, important as that is, is not all the farmer desires, for a good yield when prices are low and the demand&#13;
is light helps him very little.&#13;
The Elkhorn Valley has been through periods of agricultural difficulties before. In&#13;
1893 many farmers burned corn in their stoves because it could be sold for so little, and in the ’seventies land was so&#13;
cheap that forty acres, near where this photograph was taken, was traded for a silver watch.&#13;
The defeat of Senator&#13;
Hitchcock was due at least partly to the farmers’ discontent&#13;
talked almost entirely about radio. He was a “radio bug’’ and had been appointed chair- man of the Radio Service Commission of the United States. -Hitchcock lectured on an in- ternational banking scheme which he had sponsored. Issues did not emerge until the campaign for the final election. However, the stunt did bring out audiences and enabled the candidates to get in personal touch with the people.&#13;
Howell had four Republican opponents, only two of whom, however—A. W. Jeffries, Old Guard Republican, and Clarence A. Davis, extreme “dry,” received substantial votes. Howell received the plurality and was nomin- ated.&#13;
Then the real contest began. Howell had the advantage in putting Hitchcock on the defensive. Howell, as an outsider, could simply oppose the Esch-Cummins railroad bill while Hitchcock, being in office, had to ex- plain why as a practical matter he had voted&#13;
for it, even though he objected to the same features that Howell criticized. The argu- ment on the Federal Reserve degenerated into a partisan “passing the buck’’ as to which party was responsible for its iniquities. However, the real issues did not need much discussion. Howell had already arranged for the Non-Partisan League support by an understanding with its leaders two years be- fore. He had the workingmen on his public ownership record. Hitchcock could not hold his wets on the Bryan compromise, and such of them as were Germans he had already lost by his good war record. The bloc votes were mostly for Howell. And it was a bad year for “ins,” whether Republicans or Dem- ocrats.&#13;
So R. B. Howell, left-wing Republican en- dorsed by the radicals, was elected United States Senator. He is a municipal-ownership man, but on state and national ownership he has a different view. He would not have gen-&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
484&#13;
eral governmental ownership of utilities un- less as a last resort. He does not believe in regulated monopoly, either public or private. His remedy is competition. He would have public service commissions fix only a maxi- mum rate, below which companies could com- pete. Then he would have the Government purchase or build a few competing lines and “operate them for blood,” to squeeze the in- flated valuations out of the others.&#13;
“ BROTHER CHARLEY”&#13;
HE local contest for Governor of Ne-&#13;
braska is chiefly interesting on account of the personality of Charles W. Bryan, the successful candidate. “Brother Charley” is an interesting character. He used to keep a cigar store in Omaha, and in appearance and manner he would not seem incongruous behind a cigar counter now. He will sit on his desk, with his hat on, in the Governor’s office, and talk to you with the utmost nat- uralness. There is of course a family re- semblance to his more famous brother, but the type is different. He is roundfaced, with a bristly gray moustache and bright, alert eyes, that miss nothing. In fact his mind misses nothing. He has an almost detective&#13;
faculty of keeping track of the small things about everybody’s life and doings, and he has a photographic mind which retains the image of anything, even an elaborate table of figures,&#13;
that he has once seen. He is quick and informal in speech, with none of the orator’s elaborateness of manner, but he knows ex- pertly how to “sell” an idea to a crowd. Though a man of strictly correct habits and life, he has not his brother’s Puritan mind. He is not an active church member, and his opposition to liquor is based rather on its public injuriousness than on its personal sin- fulness. He is a strictly practical politician, who likes the game and plays it expertly. He has been his brother’s adviser in the whole organization aspect of politics and the active manager of his Nebraska contests.&#13;
When William J. Bryan came back to Lin- coln from the “Cross of Gold”’ campaign of 1896 he found himself with not much left of the election except a pile of 186,000 unan- swered letters and telegrams. Determined to answer them all he brought Brother Charley from the Omaha cigar store and made him his correspondence secretary. Charley organized a corps of stenographers&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
and turned out a letter a minute, eight hours a day, for a year and a half, until the job was done. By that time Brother Charley was in touch, personally or by correspondence, with practically every important Democratic poli- tician in the country, and he has been deep in the game ever since.&#13;
When the Commoner was started, Brother Charley became its manager, and ran it with a large staff, part of whose duties were journalistic and the rest political. “W. J.,” from Florida or wherever he may be, sends in signed political paragraphs and a series of “ Bible talks,” but otherwise he has ordinarily no direct hand in getting out the paper. It is a curious publication, whose readers must like it or they would not con- tinue to take it. Let it be hoped that they take the “Bible talks” more seriously than the preposterous quack-medicine advertise- ments alongside them.&#13;
From 1901 when the Commoner was founded until 1916, Charles W. Bryan was constantly in politics in Nebraska and behind the scenes in his brother’s campaigns, but was never in office. Then he was elected Mayor and afterward City Commissioner of Lincoln under a new charter. He claimed the mayoralty that time, as having received the highest vote, but his fellow-commissioners made him commissioner of streets and alleys instead. He put through by picturesque meth- ods a municipal coal yard, on the model of one in Omaha. The other commissioners did not favor the bill, so he got petitions signed with sufficient names to recall them, kept the peti- tions in his pocket, and used them as a big stick to compel the passage of the bill. He also used a petition for a municipal ice plant as a club to drive down the price of ice.&#13;
These things, in addition to any other vir- tues, were good campaign thunder, and when the campaign of 1922 came on Brother Charley had no difficulty in securing the Democratic nomination for Governor and the Non-Partisan League endorsement.&#13;
The Republican nominee, Charles H. Ran- dall, was a conservative of the extreme type, president of the State Bankers’ Association and author in the legislature of some unpopu- lar taxation bills. The defeat of such a man as Randall, in a radical year, was a foregone conclusion. The only possible obstacle was the old Bryan-Hitchcock feud, and that, as we have seen, was settled.&#13;
 &#13;
Brookhart, Howell, and ‘Brother Charley” Bryan&#13;
 &#13;
DRY FARMING IN WESTERN NEBRASKA Conditions in western Nebraska and in the eastern part of the state are very different. In the west “dry” farming&#13;
and irrigation are necessary. In the east neither is in use.&#13;
But the same political discontent was apparent all over&#13;
the state, nor did parties have much to do with it, fora Democratic Senator was defeated by a Republican at the same time that a Republican was defeated for governor by a Democrat&#13;
The economy issue took on an interesting form in Nebraska. The outgoing Governor, S. R. McKelvie, on a trip to Chicago early in his term had met Governor Lowden of Illinois, and became interested in Lowden’s reorgani- zation of the government of Illinois. There were constitutional difficulties in Nebraska, but good lawyers devised for McKelvie a “code commission” bill which they thought was valid.&#13;
Theoretically, this should have been a meas- ure of efficiency and economy, and perhaps it was. That is now the subject of violent con- troversyin Nebraska. But coincident withthe adoption of the “code”’ system taxes went up. Most of them, to be sure, were local city and county taxes, but Nebraska is not the only state in which the voters punish the Gov- ernor for the wrongs committed by their own neighbors whom they have elected and reélect supervisors.&#13;
But, as so often happens in American&#13;
politics, the people chose an executive on a legislative issue and simultaneously elected a legislature to prevent that legislation. The explanation seems to be that the Governor is a general candidate, elected on general issues, while each legislator is a local candidate, elected because he is a friend and neighbor, or for some other personal or local reason. So a Democratic Governor was elected to destroy the code system and a Republican legislature was chosen at the same election to prevent him from doing so. Once more the service of the party system in confusing instead. of clarifying issues is manifested.&#13;
The story of the deadlock and subsequent events in the local contest would lead us too far afield. Its only popular importance is in the fact that a situation which first made a picturesquely interesting character, a brother of W. J. Bryan, Governor of Ne- braska may also make him United States Senator.&#13;
 &#13;
THE THREE PER CENT. LOAN SWINDLE&#13;
A Heartless Scheme by Which Needy Borrow- ers are Mulcted for Loans They Never Get&#13;
By JOHN R. GREGORY&#13;
HE publicity given oil promotion schemes within recent months might lead the casual reader to suspect that all the snares being set to-day by the up-to-date trickster must be baited with oil. He might go farther than this and suspect, too, now that the oil scheme is pilloried once and for all, that publicity of the right sort has served its pur- pose, and settle down in the belief that here- after the little fellow’s savings will be safe.&#13;
True, oil profits, real and imaginary, have always been the greatest lure, but as there are schemers without number, so are there an infinite variety of schemes. Let us forget for a moment the expected oil gusher and the gushing promoter, and consider, for instance, the three per cent. loan scheme.&#13;
This scheme recognizes and plays upon the home-building and home-owning instinct which is as old as the race. It is directed to the giver and wearer of the engagement ring, to the widow whose rent has been raised, to the old man whose ill health is a warning that he must soon retire. It will aid the first to begin a career and the last to round off one. It will do this by solving, in what mysterious fashion let us see, the difficulty of having and maintaining a home.&#13;
This scheme, unlike many, was not born in any one brain. It is a development, an improved-upon thing which can be tracked through the Post Office Department archives for years past. Stated simply, a cut-throat contract binds the victim to pay $10 per month per $1,000 desired, and to continue this for eight years, and if every single thing goes well, and if the insiders decide that embezzlement is not the safest way to wealth, he becomes eligible for a loan some time during this long period of waiting—and the loan will be at the rate of three per cent. The con- tract out of which the “eligible” can under favorable conditions squeeze a loan, is a veritable masterpiece of complicated phrase-&#13;
ology. If the proverbial Philadelphia lawyer&#13;
. did not have a hand in framing it, he at least&#13;
would have to be called upon to interpret its involved and tortured phrases.&#13;
Through the work of post office inspectors O. B. Williamson, William J. Marles, and John Welborn, the promoters of one of the biggest of the three per centers—the Codperative League of America—recently came to grief. By arresting Sg J. Bovard of Pittsburgh, and Morton S . Hawkins of Portland, Indiana, they brought to an end the career of two of the most curious characters who within the last seven years have risen and prospered in that crazy world of unsound finance. Since 1916 Bovard has been the dominant figure in the League’s affairs, and from his palatial offices in the Standard Life Building in Pittsburgh, has written more than twenty million dollars worth of business. His contracts—the cut- throat kind of all three per centers—went to almost ridiculous lengths to make it legally safe for the insiders; and after placing all the risk the traffic would bear on the prospective borrower, forgot to safeguard the accumu- lating cash by providing a reserve to use in carrying on the future business. This may not be one of the reasons why Judge Anderson of Indianapolis placed such assets as could be found in the hands of a receiver, but it gave color to the inspectors’ claim that any finan- cial concern which has to depend upon future income in order to be able to carry out exist- ing obligations is headed straight for disaster.&#13;
The League has two funds. The first is to provide for expenses of the several kinds, and is generous enough under any prudent man- agement, because it was created by taking from every investor all of his first four pay- ments and ten per cent. of the next five. The second fund the trustees promised to guard sacredly. Out of it the three per cent. loans were to be made. It was made up of ninety per cent. of the fifth to the ninth payment inclusive, and all the others the investor&#13;
 &#13;
Sa WH me OD | VS GO&#13;
3 «&#13;
The Three Per Cent. Loan Swindle 487&#13;
could be persuaded to make. This fund went under the euphonious name of the “Trust Estate” and the contract holder was led to believe that it was only a question of months when it would be apportioned as loans among those who had helped to create it.&#13;
According to the records now held in Indianapolis by Reily C. Adams, the receiver, the League has done business with more than 9,000 people. These are scattered over a dozen different states, but the heaviest business was drawn from New York, Penn- sylvania, Ohio, and Illinois. By one of the curious clauses in the League’s contract, these people, for exploitation purposes, were divided into groups, $100,000 worth of contract holders to the group. Each group was called a series and the members of each, after the heavy toll had been taken for the general expense fund, were made to finance each other, that is, the series, with no outside aid, provided the money to lend to the series mem- bers. The insiders—the three trustees—had nothing to do but preside over this interesting performance, passing out favors according to their individual whim and drawing splen- did salaries, aggregating for the three, about $27,000 a year.&#13;
THE USE OF THE SERIES FEATURE&#13;
HE series feature gave the League insiders&#13;
endless trouble, because the privilege of re- ceiving a loan, valuable or not, as one may view it, was not distributed equally, and could not be. Priority of position, de- termined by the day, hour, and minute of signing a contract, was the main thing. The “early bird catches the worm’’ principle governed. Theoretically, at least, Contract holder No. 1 would be eligible for his loan one hundred times quicker than Contract holder No. 100, and between the first and last were a thousand difficulties never dreamed of by the prospective borrower. These slowed up the clumsy process. For example, there was the “grace” clause in case the payer became sick or disabled, the “option in event of death” clause, and the fatal “forfeiture” clause, under which the trustees gathered in all payments made as liquidated damages for non-performance of the terms which re- quired the contract holder never to give up but to pay monthly for one hundred months if the exigencies of his case should require&#13;
this. These contingencies not only affected the individual but affected the whole series to which he belonged, so that each member was bound for good or ill. by whatever hap- pened to his fellows. The more forfeitures the more money for the insiders, and the slower the eligibility for the honest payer of dues.&#13;
During the years when the scheme was still young—and during the months when Bovard knew the end was in sight—the newspapers of the country carried the same appeal. In the Pittsburgh Press of April 15, 1923, an adver- tisement cries out: “ Homeseekers Attention!” And then below the cut of three beautiful bungalows, Bovard unfolds his plan:&#13;
You start with just monthly payments, accumulate the equity, we finance the balance on easy monthly payments at the lowest possible interest rates, with ten years to repay, liberal suspension for sickness and misfortune.&#13;
The payer of monthly dues first senses his danger when one delay in getting.a loan fol- lows another. The glib agent, working for the first rake-off, told the first lie. He gave his worthless word that contracts matured early, said there would be no long waiting for customers of his—he saw personally to that important feature. And the deal would be closed—closed more because of this assur- ance than any other single thing. Let us see what happens: When the victim of this trickery writes to the company and asks the reason for it all, he gets a stock reply reading like this:&#13;
Referring to your request for information regarding the standing of your contract, beg to advise that there are $39,000 worth of contracts ahead of yours, and on account of their position, we cannot make a definite statement as to when it will mature. It is, however, progressing nicely. In replying, refer to Information Department.&#13;
The disappointment of the prospective borrower may make him persistent, and the downright promise of the agent may lead him to consult an attorney. The so-called Infor- mation Department, which gives no infor- mation, is ready for that. This Department, consisting of a stenographer armed with a lot of stock paragraphs, simply copies the one which invokes a clause hidden away among the small type on the last page of the contract. The clause reads in this wise:&#13;
I accept the terms and conditions of this contract,&#13;
 &#13;
488&#13;
John R.&#13;
and I make this application solely upon them and not upon the faith of any statement, promise, undertaking, or guarantee on the part of said solicitor or any other persons.&#13;
Thus the attorney is stopped and Bovard has scored his first victory. He has demonstrated the wisdom of making a defense before being accused. Roland Robbins taught him this, for an agent’s lie was the rock upon which his Standard Home Company broke and foundered.&#13;
THE TRUST AGREEMENT&#13;
HE whole mischief-making scheme was&#13;
operated under a Trust Agreement and Declaration of Trust created and declared October 2, 1916, and is of record in Miscella- neous Docket, Vol. 4., p. 272 of the Recorder’s Office in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania. The agreement makes the League for all time the property of ten men, and denies to the thousands of contract holders, who supply the funds, the slightest voice in its manage- ment. They can be sold out, traded out, or worn out as Bovard and his two fellow trustees may desire. The part they are to play is set out with all needed particularity in the individual contract. From it one might easily infer that an ideal contract holder is one who pays promptly, who waits hopefully, and who, while paying and waiting, never doubts that the total stranger to whom he has entrusted his savings will deal honestly with him. Of course, he must not be curious and must never suspect that he is completely delivered into the hands of his enemies by that all inclusive clause of the Agreement reading as follows:&#13;
Whereas, in order that the plan as proposed in the said contracts in said series or in other or future series of contracts may be pursued, carried on and concluded for the benefit of said parties of the first part, it is necessary that the said organization contracts, plan and business be delivered, turned over to and operated by the trustees X X X.&#13;
How tragic and how heartless the whole thing is! The politician need give no heed because but few votes are jeopardized. The prosecuting officer need not bestir himself because public sentiment is not prodding him. What then, is to be done? Simply strive to quicken the conscience of our public officials by fearlessly exposing the maker of schemes, and bring to those in authority a&#13;
Gregory&#13;
fuller realization that laws are for the pro- tection of the weak and helpless and not a shield behind which the cunning rascal can lay in wait. Here isa letter written recently to an officer whose duty it is to enforce the law:&#13;
I have written to the Coéperative League asking for a cash settlement and they will not answer. I wrote and told them I was going to report to the Government if they did not, but they failed. When I took the contract with the League, the agreement said at a certain period of time you could get the contract value if wanted. I have paid my pay- ments all through the mail. I have paid $100.15. | am a widow with two children and feel that I have certainly been wronged by the company. They do not answer my mail, only at first.&#13;
Bovard’s League was running smoothly enough about the time the Blue Sky laws in some of the States were beginning to prove effective. State officials in Illinois and Minne- sota, acting on authority conferred by these laws, insisted on intimate details. Bovard successfully answered all questionnaires from these and other sources, and it was thought for a time that he could quiet all suspicion. One thing happened, however, which may well be regarded as the beginning of the end. The League’s agent in Cleveland ran afoul of Ohio’s lottery law. A trial followed and League money poured into the State to de- fend the accused agent. But despite all efforts, the agent was convicted and the judgment affirmed by the Ohio Court of Appeals for the Eighth circuit. The attorney representing the League’s agent, relying on that clause in the contract which fixes the applicant’s position in a series by the exact time of signing, argued that by this the ele- ment of chance was eliminated. He urged that chance, one of the three elements of a lottery, must depend upon a “subsequent event”? and not so depending in this case, there could be no lottery. The Supreme Court of Missouri, in recently deciding the fate of another of the three percenters, fol- lowed the Ohio Court, and took occasion to refer to this sophistry by saying that to hold such a view would be to say that the Louisi- ana Lottery could “still operate under our law by the simple device of determining the winning numbers first, keeping them secret, and then selling chances based upon corre- . spondence of ticket numbers already drawn, but kept secret from the ticket buyers.”&#13;
 &#13;
The Three Per Cent. Loan Swindle&#13;
The lottery decision dealt the League a knock-out blow in Ohio. Thereafter the Pennsylvania State Banking Commissioner gave it a little closer scrutiny. He claimed to be without authority to close its doors, but in December, 1921, required the three trus- tees to deposit with the state $100,000 as a guarantee that the business would be fairly administered. This ruling, mild as it was, created a difficult problem for Bovard. The expense fund would not stand the strain, for at the time it was greatly depleted, due to wastage, and the legal controversies waged in so many places. If the trust fund should be encroached upon, what of the repeated pledges and the ability to make future loans? Only a promoter seeking the easiest way out and not the honest way could find a solution. What did these insiders do? Made the books to show that the trust fund loaned the expense fund the needed amount, and the trust fund, which in a final analysis means the monthly payer of dues, gets the |. O. U. of an empty cash box. Meanwhile the prospective home builder wonders why his loan is so long de- layed.&#13;
ENTER MORTON S. HAWKINS&#13;
N_ 1922, the unsoundness of the loan plan began to tell on the three per centers the country over. To avert disaster a National Association of Home Loan Insti- tutions was formed and its representatives met in St. Louis in the spring of that year. Over thirty-six companies joined the move- ment. Defensive measures were proposed and a concerted effort made to save the three per cent. idea. But it required more than the genius of Bovard to avert the storm. Then chance or fate or whatever it is that some- times comes to a man who is groping, inter- vened, and Morton S. Hawkins crossed Bovard’s path. This gentleman’s concep- tion of how to effect a complete clean up, and his adroitness at side-stepping the conse- quences, at once threw the spot light on “The House of Hawkins.”&#13;
Hawkins’s instrumentality is the chattel mortgage, and his benevolent purpose, which we discover by analyzing his attractive come- on literature, is to put a “loan shark”’ office in three hundred towns and villages. He has actually established some forty of these insti- tutions in eight of the states, so that country folk now, as well as New York and Chicago&#13;
489&#13;
unfortunates, can enjoy the privilege of pay- ing twenty-five to thirty per cent. for a chattel loan. Nothing suggestive ofa shark or of that animal’s well known_ proclivities, ‘ how- ever, can be seen about one of these places: Even the name sounds right: “ Welfare Loan Society.”’” Each of the so-called societies is an independent corporation in name, but each in fact wears the chains of the “House of Hawkins.” Fifty-one per cent. of the capi.al stock of each is given the “ House’”’ for a filing system, a plan of business, and the like, and the remaining 49 per cent. of each is sold, or at least offered for sale, to the incautious public as a safe investment, yielding 8 per cent. The “House,” which is Hawkins him- self and his two associates, Anthony A. Scheib and Carl B. Anderson, operates as. the Hawkins Mortgage Company, and in a finan- cial statement issued as of June 30, 1922, this company held stock in the societies, “exclusive of Louisiana,” which Hawkins had nerve enough to value at $7,613,000. Im- pressive figures. The public, as every pro- moter knows, likes to dream in terms of millions, but is slow to learn that Hawkins and his kind have nothing more substantial to offer than a dream.&#13;
Each society’s 49 per cent. of capital stock was offered for sale to supply money to loan, and the lying Hawkins’s salesman, using mathematics which cannot lie, demonstrated clearly that the earning power of the invest- ment would be high. Now, provide safety and the argument is complete. Here is the Hawkins method of doing this, quoted from a pamphlet of his entitled A PUBLIC SPIRITED ENTERPRISE WITH PROF- ITS FOR YOU:&#13;
Hawkins Mortgage Company—Guarantee Bond— Guaranteed That the Welfare Loan Society in which stock is purchased will be efficiently man- aged; that it will pay a dividend of eight per cent. and back of the Bond are the entire resources, capital, surplus, and profits of the Hawkins Mort- gage Company amounting to $9,000,000.&#13;
These were reckless promises. the societies were operated at a loss, and many more failed to yield a profit for a year, sometimes two years, after being opened. And here was a promise to pay dividends from the beginning, and to keep everlastingly at it, even though it took the entire capital&#13;
Many of&#13;
of the Hawkins Mortgage Company. the scheme was turning in a circle.&#13;
But Hawkins&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
490 John R. Mortgage Company stock had to be sold so that dividends could be paid on Welfare Society stock, and the dividends had to be paid on this stock so that the Hawkins Mort- gage Company would appear prosperous, so that more of its stock could be sold to pay more dividends on Welfare Loan stock. Hawkins’s predicament resembled that of the Yankee farmer who had to raise more corn to get more strength to dig more clams, with- out which he would be entirely too weak to raise more corn. So when Morton S. Hawkins crossed the path of Harry J. Bovard two things were obvious: Something had to be done for the Hawkins Mortgage Company and some- thing had to be done with the Codperative League of America; and it is to be regretted that there is no available record of what these two financial wizards said when they first met and took counsel together.&#13;
AN UNSUCCESSFUL EFFORT&#13;
NE thing we doknow: Earlyin February, 1923, the contract holder, still waiting for&#13;
his loan, received a letter the contents of which startled him. It bore the familiar name of Bovard, and, as always, began, Dear Friend’’; but no greeting, however soft, could soften the fact that the whole business of the Codéperative League has stopped—stopped, Bovard said, “on account of adverse agitation and rulings.”” He added:&#13;
We have spent considerable time and thought trying to work out a plan and we have been fortunate in securing a favorable offer from the Hawkins Mortgage Company of Portland, Indiana, to exchange their stock to contract hold- ers, giving you thereby the amount paid in by. you and allowing you to pay out in full if you desire on the same terms and receive their stock there- for.&#13;
A storm of protest followed which neither Bovard nor Hawkins could ignore. Then came the retraction of February 12th, spon- sored by Hawkins, Scheib, and Anderson, as the new trustees:&#13;
You may have gotten the impression that an at- tempt was being made to substitute—without your consent—something else for your contract rights. However, nothing of the kind was being attempted nor even thought of.&#13;
It was all a mistake of an Indianapolis printer, these gentlemen explained. The careless&#13;
fellow had misunderstood instructions. The&#13;
Gregory&#13;
alarming news, which meant nothing if not insolvency, was intended for another 3 per center, then being given the Hawkins treat- ment, a Saint Louis concern, the United Home Builders of America.&#13;
This was a desperate game. As trustee, Hawkins held in trust the money of the League and the League’s mortgages. How to get unrestricted possession of both was the prob- lem. The advertising campaign, crude, awk- wardly managed, but with an eye always on the main chance, was the play for the con- tract equities which controlled the money. Scare them, trade with them, and then under guise of befriending them, get hold of the contracts, and while the dupes are despair- ingly signing the bright yellow “Certificate of Rights,” plunge into more Welfare Loan Societies with the money thus secured by trick and artifice. What other conclusion can be drawn from his numerous appeals? Part of the funds needed by these institutions, he says, “will be secured from the proceeds, when available, of contract equities ex- changed for Trust Certificates of this com-&#13;
pany.”&#13;
In time we may expect to hear in open court the completed story of the looting of the League, for the inspectors are still on the job, Postmaster General New has declared that hereafter stealing from the poor is to be made an extra hazardous calling, and a United States Attorney has signified his willingness to begin a criminal prosecution. Not only have Hawkins and Bovard been arrested, but Scheib and Anderson also. Later warrants were served on Charles E. Succop-and John A. Clark of Pittsburgh, Bovard’s partners in the deal, and these six promoters will await, under heavy bond, the action of a United States Grand Jury.&#13;
These and the other Wallingfords of the underworld of business, masquerading as financiers, annually take their toll of millions; and statistics show that the supply of new and unsuspecting victims keeps pace with the constant and growing demand. The public can well afford to be grateful to that corps of post office inspectors who will not cease their vigil; to a Postmaster General who will not lay aside that effective instrumentality, the fraud order; and to a United States Attorney who will not dull the cutting edge of a crimi- nal statute under which the home wrecker can be so effectively punished for his crimes.&#13;
 &#13;
WILD HUMOR AT THE ANTIPODES&#13;
“The Monetization of Celluloid” and “The Anting-Anting”’&#13;
By SYDNEY&#13;
NE of the useful adjuncts of civil-&#13;
ization that we established at&#13;
Bongao was a full-fledged can-&#13;
teen. The sale of beer and&#13;
wines to the “brutal soldiery”’&#13;
was permitted in those days, and the supply&#13;
of these beverages and of the many small&#13;
articles used by soldiers, formed quite a&#13;
volume of business. The large percentage of&#13;
this business was carried on credit, orders for&#13;
merchandise being issued during the month&#13;
and paid for on the arrival of the paymaster,&#13;
on one of his occasional visits. We had no&#13;
printing press at Bongao, and no regular way&#13;
in which credit slips for stated amounts could&#13;
be issued to the troops, and later be collected and paid for.&#13;
Under these circumstances, my mind hark- ened back to a beloved and much used set of poker chips. These had been given to me by a member of the Bohemian Club of San&#13;
Francisco, and consisted not only of the usual reds, whites, and blues, but also included greens, yellows, and browns, and in such numbers that they were sufficient to cover all the denominations of Mexican currency, from whites at five cents up to greens at&#13;
twenty dollars. They had been used in the early days after the capture of Manila, and in fact, had been embalmed in many of the memories of those stormy times. | remember that on February 4, 1899, the night the insur- rection broke out, a jolly party, consisting of Crowder, Hasbrouck, Hann, Martin, Jim Carlin, and myself, were the active partici- pants in a game at the Army and Navy Club. As the game progressed in the dim watches of the night, we could hear the distant roar of the fire crackers with which the Chinese New Year’s was celebrated. Finally Hann walked out upon the balcony, but soon returned, a little gray about the mouth, and with the sen- sational announcement, “ Boys, those are not fire crackers. They are Krag Jorgensens!”’ This was received with growls of, “Sit down and play your hand. What are you talking about?’”’ He replied, “The insurrection has&#13;
A. CLOMAN&#13;
broken out! Those are American rifles out at Santa Mesa. Come out on the balcony where the air can strike your ears and you will be convinced.” Everyone left the table and in a few minutes more came piling back into the room. Ah, then and there was hurrying to and fro. Coats and revolver belts were hurried on and no one thought of the poker game—with the exception of my- self. For the first time in ten days I was a winner, so | seated myself at the table and made a hasty calculation of the piles of chips. “Charlie, you owe me thirty-four dollars,” howled | to Martin as he disappeared down the stairway. “Go to the devil!’’ was his sympathetic reply. “Bunker, you owe me fifty-three dollars,” howled | at Hann. “I call it off,” he replied. “Our men are being fired on. This is no time for foolishness.” Similar replies were given by the other par- ticipants in the game, until Crowder and | who had come together, hastily steered our way to the waiting carriage. We were on the staff and so proceeded through the darkness to Malacanan palace, the home of General Otis. I have never seen a darker night in Manila, and of course we knew the signal had been given for the massacre of all Americans. We leaned forward in our carriage with our revolvers in hand, and dashed through the dark streets. We did not know the reason for the delay in the massacre. Finally, an- other carriage swung in front of us at high speed, containing Colonel Colton, the Collec- tor of Customs, and Captain Pegram Whit- worth. Just at this time, a white figure dashed out of the darkness and jumped on the steps of Colton’s carriage. At once the revolvers spoke and we could distinctly see three streams of fire enter the white chest. Instantly we stopped the carriage and ran forward to find that the Filipino had been killed in his tracks. We thought then that the worst had happened and that the ris- ing against the Americans was_ universal. Strange to say, this was the only murderous attempt made during the night by a civilian.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
a&#13;
Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
SITANKAI ISLAND The southernmost inhabited island of the Philippines, and one of the group of which Colonel Cloman was the governor&#13;
We found the staff at Malacanan with General Otis, and | remained there all night. Early the next morning the General directed me to get my horse, and beginning on the bay shore near Malate, to ride around the American lines, and see that proper provision had been made to bring forward stores and feed the men. Near Singalon, | ran across the 14th Infantry, which had just had a fight and lost a great many men. _ I soon spotted Hasbrouck. He had placed his company in a shelter trench and was boldly exposing himself under fire, while walking up and down on top of the trench. Twice | pulled him down, and begged him not to thus expose himself while he owed me eighty dollars. | pleaded with him to take shelter and attempt no further deeds of derring-do while his poker debt was thus unpaid, and it was only after some time spent in eloquent protest that | felt safe to go and finish my errand. We both ended the day safely, and it was not long be- fore the payment of the eighty dollars re- stored my confidence in my kind.&#13;
During the rigors of the campaign in Luzon the poker chips were unused, and now reposed at Bongao in my spare baggage. They turned out to be just what was necessary for canteen checks, and soon several hundred dollars of&#13;
them were doing their respectable duty. Both the soldiers and the natives allowed this new American coinage to take its place in their economic life, and as is usual, in such cases, the higher priced chips began to be hoarded by the chiefs. I issued orders re- garding turning them in, but this simply con- firmed them in the belief that the celluloid was very precious, and it became evident that large numbers of chips were being buried. | had a conference with the chiefs and warned them that on my departure from the island, the chips would not be worth anything and asked them to turn them in without delay. The more | asked for them, the deeper the owners dug, and when | finally left the group of islands the canteen was the richer by more than six hundred dollars of unredeemed poker chips. I have always expected a bloody war to be declared when these were disinterred and the commanding officer at Bongao would not know what they were talking about when they presented them for payment. I have often given this as an example of High Finance, and it has always seemed to me probable that Bryan with his “16 to 1”’ was not entirely an idiot, if | could thus monetize celluloid. This was a favorite story of both President Roosevelt and President Taft.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Wild Humor at the Antipodes&#13;
THE ANTING-ANTING&#13;
N THIS chapter will be found all the ele-&#13;
ments of real romance ;—a hero (fat), vast&#13;
wealth ($130 Mex.), two villains (the China- man and myself) and fourteen heroines.&#13;
To begin with, when | left San Francisco for the Philippines on May 25, 1898, | was presented, by a charming lady, with a bangle containing a four-leaf clover. If | remember rightly, there was some conversation about wearing it on my bosom forever. What happened was that its horizon was thereafter limited to a box containing shirt studs, a couple of trunk keys and some odd trousers’ buttons. But | was a very busy man.&#13;
In Malay-land the charm or anting-anting is a very important article and no man is without one. | have looked them over and found them to consist of bits of everything from a plain pebble to a bag of what appeared to be bone meal. The only thingin common seemed to be—whether from long use or the nature of the object—that they all smelled just alike.&#13;
Now be it known that Datto Tanton had&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
an anting-anting of most wonderful power. Soon after my arrival | heard of it, and | noted that when any of his people spoke of his wonderful successes and escapes, the anting- anting always was brought forward as the ultimate explanation thereof. It was no absurdity. To thousands of human beings it was the corner-stone of his power, the ele- ment of awe that lay behind his dignity. Keen gray-haired men related to me things that had fallen under their own eyes; as, for instance, the shafts of spears that splintered in the air when the point approached his breast and bullets that flattened on the sail of his prau and dropped at his feet on deck. One day after a conference with several of the more important head-men, the conversa- tion turned on the power of Tanton’s anting- anting. Once more | was regaled with these never-ending tales and when my limit of boredom had been reached, | bethought me of my poor little four-leaf clover and casually remarked that | also possessed an anting- anting of somewhat superior power. Had |&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
sat. EZ&#13;
A SULU “DATTO” AND HIS ATTENDANTS&#13;
The gentleman with the turban is the lord and master of this rough looking group. where in the world, mere position does not guarantee power.&#13;
In the Sulu Archipelago, as else- The power of wealth, aided by one’s good right arm, is&#13;
needed to elevate a datto to real authority, but an “anting-anting”, or charm, is universally carried and believed in&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Ww | ~ ~ &lt; Oo Ww = % ee) &gt; ° oa Oo Qa wl a &lt; uw) o o4 ae] fo) es) 2) =) ° -_ w &gt; io &lt; = wW x= » ~ 2 © a &lt;= Ww o) o4 2) = a x = 2) oa - a = Zz &lt; = ° a 1) o w Zz io) 4 ie) o)&#13;
“* ANTING-ANTING ”&#13;
AS AN&#13;
”’ and told the most&#13;
“anting-anting&#13;
had an after losing some of his painfully acquired funds in the gambling&#13;
changed and he broke the bank&#13;
carried by the natives to ward off-evil and bring good luck. ced that he, too, i&#13;
announ&#13;
Later Datto Tanton secured the loan of five dollars from a storekeeper, and borrowed Colonel Cloman’s four-leafed&#13;
a charm not to be outdone by the natives,&#13;
anting , marvelous stories of its powers.&#13;
den of a Chinaman&#13;
The amazing result was that his luck&#13;
in the Sulu language&#13;
is&#13;
” ’&#13;
clover.&#13;
anting- Colonel Cloman&#13;
An “ee&#13;
 &#13;
Wild Humor at the Antipodes&#13;
dropped a hand grenade | could not have caused a greater sensation. | never had intimated this before, and thus holding it out on them had evidently increased the interest. Every eye was on me when an old chief finally said, “Tell us, Tuan, what it has done.” | was perfectly willing to continue the joke, my powers of invention were virile, and my audience was with me. Can you blame me if ] reeled off instance after instance of its power which made anything they ever had heard of Tanton’s charm seem like mere child’s play? When finally | ran out of deeds of derring-do, ] easily switched to its ability as a mascot ina poker game, and | am sure my old pals, had they heard me, would have wondered how they ever had skinned me with such a “ buck”’ in my possession.&#13;
To all this they listened with deep interest, and one old Maharajah bespoke the desire in every heart when he asked me if | would not show them this marvellous affair. | really was not sure that | still had it, but went into my bedroom and finally found it, looking most unimportant among the dusty buttons. | tried to prop up its dignity by wrapping it in successive layers of cotton wool and colored&#13;
495&#13;
silk, and enclosed the whole in a jeweler’s box. When | appeared and reversed the packing process, the removal of each wrapper was followed by grunts of excitement, and when at last the four leafed clover was re- vealed in all its delayed and impressive state, there was a veritable sensation in the court.&#13;
| had had my joke, and the chiefs departed. But little did | know that within forty-eight hours it would be the principal subject of conversation about every counsel-board and camp fire in the island group, and that each one of my stories about it would be treasured up and magnified in the true Malay way. When the ground-swell began to come back to me, | really was embarrassed that | had carried the joke so far. Tanton, probably from professional jealousy, never spoke to me on the subject, but it was perfectly evident from his demeanour that he had heard and thought much on this belated revelation.&#13;
Now, although the Koran permits four wives to each true believer, Tanton—I think more to show his power than anything else— had accumulated a diversified collection of fourteen of the same. Alas, too late he found that he had accumulated but trouble for&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
AN OLD SPANISH HOUSE ON SIASI ISLAND The Spaniards never had more than a precarious hold on the Sulu Islands, and Siasi Island, which lies about eighty&#13;
miles to the north and east of Bongao, was no exception to the rule.&#13;
Before the Americans took over the Archipelago,&#13;
Siasi Island had been abandoned by the Spaniards&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
 &#13;
A SQUADRON OF THE FOURTH CAVALRY ON SULU ISLAND&#13;
These troopers were a part of the American force sent to occupy the Sulu Archipelago, but Colonel Cloman and his little command were all but marooned about 125 miles southwest of Sulu (or Jolo) Island, only 30 miles from Borneo&#13;
himself, and shortly before we arrived he had taken measures to restore the status quo ante in a truly characteristic way. He had cut his Gordian and matrimonial knot by simply installing his fourteen helpmates on fourteen different islands, while he lived alone on Bongao. By thus scattering the enemy forces and holding the command of the sea, he found the peace and independence that he loved so well. About once a month, he sent around a boat, chucked off a bag of rice, some cloth and a new ultimatum at each hut, and as a rule was left alone. The one exception was “Wife No. 1’’, as she was called. She was of royal birth and was in fact a sensible, independent, and worthy woman, and when she would take it into her head to run the blockade and land upon his coast, there was trouble in the old home. Her arrival was usually followed by a beating-up of comely slave girls, a scrapping of much loved old clothes and shoes, and a ceremony known in America as “cleaning house’’—a process as much hated there as it is here.&#13;
So one market day when Tanton wandered past my house in spick and span clothes and a general air of gloom, | was not at all surprised to hear that Wife No. 1 had made one of her peiiodical descents with the usual results. After hanging about my door for a few min- utes he proceeded toward the market-place with the air and gait made famous by the typical American boy on his way to the opening of the fall school term.&#13;
But if he was the picture of gloom then, how can | describe his appearance on his re-&#13;
turn half an hour later? For hours he sat on the edge of my porch gazing into vacancy, “the emptiness of ages in his face, and on his back the burden of the world.” I asked him several times what the trouble was, but it was late in the afternoon when he confessed.&#13;
His wife had arrived; but in addition to her usual unpleasantness, she finally had pronounced his household in a disgraceful condition, wormed out of him the amount of his entire wealth which was $25. Mex. and packed him off at once to the market to squander the whole sum on alleged necessaries. Hence the morning gloom.&#13;
Now the Moros were irrepressible gamblers, the favorite game being one of pure chance with a most unrighteous percentage against the player. and in the market-place was a Chinaman who furnished this form of relaxa- tion to one and all. It seems that Tanton had loitered to watch the game, guessed in his own mind several times exactly how they were running, and finally concluded to risk a dollar ortwoatsame. Evenif he lost, was a woman Allah that she could tell, say, $23 worth of goods from $25 worth? To hurry over the sad parts of the story, I simply will say that in a few minutes he was “cleaned.” Hence the afternoon gloom. The fact of the matter was that the old ex-pirate was simply afraid to go home. As | never have heard of this occurring elsewhere, | judge it to be an ex- clusively Malay sensation.&#13;
When late in the day he told me this pathetic tale, | hastily tried to forestall the logical back-kick by assuring him that he&#13;
 &#13;
Wild Humor at the Antipodes&#13;
already knew my unalterable _ resolution never to lend money to a native. He as- sured me that this was farthest from his thoughts, but that if my heart was not com- pletely hardened against him, he would beg my assistance in another way; and | then learned what he had been brooding about all day. He wanted me to lend him my anting-anting.&#13;
1 told him to use his own; he replied that while it was a real wonder when it came to killings and the ordinary events of life, it already had failed him several times in gambling. | told him he was broke; he re- plied that the storekeeper had promised the loan of $5 if he could get the use of my anting-anting as extra security against the game. | told him that he knew full well that an anting-anting could work only for its own proper lord and master; he replied that this was perfectly true of the ordinary article, but that he was sure that mine was so bountifully endowed with virtue that enough would spill over to get my friend out of trouble and con- found the pagan Chinaman. | hated to see the old fellow send good money after bad in this villainous game, but I saw that he would not be happy till he got it, and so finally gave in with reservations. | at least insisted on quick action and no toying with the soul- searing percentage. The odds in the game are 5 to1,2to1,andeven money. So! gave him the four leafed clover, told him to place it and the borrowed $5 on the 5 to 1 shot, and then quit at once if he happened to win. | also covered my retreat by a long dissertation on the fact that he was sure to lose as there&#13;
497&#13;
was no historical instance of a self respecting anting-anting working for other than its own master. So he wrapped the charm with great reverence and care in his neckerchief, and de- parted down the broad and easy path that led to the market-place.&#13;
| was not at all surprised when in a short time he returned, gave me back the clover- leaf, said that it had failed as | had predicted, and hastily took his boat for home.&#13;
He had no more than pushed off, however, than Abdallah, the chief of the market-place, appeared with mouth agrin from ear to ear and joyously hailed me with, “Oh, Tuan, There is great excitement in the market.” When asked what it was all about, he replied, “Datto Tanton, followed by a large crowd, entered the market and placed $5 and your anting-anting on the 5 to1 shotand won. He then bet many times on the different odds, and in only a short time broke the yellow infidel and won more than $130. Your anting-anting is surely of Allah!”&#13;
That is all. Except, after avoiding me for a few days, | finally cornered Tanton, assured him that he was the star liar of the tropics, and asked him why on earth he had not told me of his good luck. His reply was, “1 feared, Tuan, that you would ask me for half the money.”&#13;
And now | wonder while I am telling this as a joke on Tanton, if he has not told it often to his unholy crew as a joke on me. At least he got the money; and in both of our countries this seems to be the accepted criterion as to whom the joke is on.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
TROOPERS OF THE FOURTH CAVALRY In the surf off Sulu (Jolo) Island. Colonel Cloman’s men were ordered not to enter the waters of Bongao unless at&#13;
least twenty men went in at once.&#13;
This was in order to have enough men about to frighten the sharks away&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
-&#13;
55 SI isc :&#13;
 &#13;
JUST ABOVE THE GRAND CANON THE COLORADO RIVER IS BEING HARNESSED&#13;
THE ELECTRIFICATION OF NORTH AMERICA&#13;
What the Super-Power Plan Means and How It Can Be Carried Out&#13;
By GENERAL GUY E. TRIPP&#13;
Chairman, Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company&#13;
“NOME day, if the people of the United States and Canada desire it, a single “super-power’’ system will furnish electric energy to the greater part of the North American continent.&#13;
There is nothing visionary about this sys- tem. Its construction is entirelyfeasible with modern electrical apparatus; and if the matter lay wholly in the hands of the electrical indus- try, its eventual completion would be almost a certainty. But so colossal a project direct- ly concerns the public; and unless proper leg- islative action is taken as a result of popular demand, the system cannot come into exis- tence. Consequently the question—“ Shall we or shall we not have a single super-power system ?’’—is sooner or later bound to become an important national issue; and since the future of America will be profoundly influenc- ed by the answer, the salient facts of the case should be of general interest.&#13;
Water power is the foundation on which the single super-power system rests. More than 65,000,000 horsepower of waterpower is available in North America; and of this total, only about 10,000,000 horsepower is being util- ized, whereas more than 50,000,000 horse- power is being generated by means of steam. As is now generally recognized, this proportion of steam power towater poweris altogether too high. For several very excellent reasons water power should be utilized wherever possible.&#13;
In the first place, the use of water power saves fuel and conserves our never-to-be-re- placed resources of coal and oil.&#13;
It also conserves human labor. A steam plant not only requires a larger operating staff than a water-power plant of the same capacity but it must also have the services of many men to mine and transport to it the necessary coal. It is estimated that to produce a given amount of power by steam twenty times as&#13;
 &#13;
The Electrification of North America&#13;
many men are required as to produce it by water, and that upward of a half a million men would be released for other duties if it were possible entirely to replace steam power with water power.&#13;
A properly built hydro-electric plant is, moreover, a permanent asset. Its chief con- struction work (the dam, power-house, etc.) can be made as enduring as the hills; and its machinery, being able to transform into power more than go per cent. of the available energy of the water, is in little danger of being super- seded by improved types. Steam machinery, on the other hand, has an almost continuous history of replacement through improvement, and since the best of our modern steam appar- atus has a working efficiency of hardly more than 16 per cent. there is no reason to believe that the end of this process has been reached.&#13;
National economy, therefore, demands the general development of our water power. But water power, unlike steam power, is not fully under human control. One of the char-&#13;
acteristics of the majority of our rivers is that&#13;
 &#13;
THE ROOSEVELT DAM While this dam was intended primarily as part of an irrigation project it, with the other works of the Salt River Project, develops 23,000 electric horsepower.&#13;
for irrigation work and partly for industrial purposes&#13;
About 75 miles from Phoenix, Arizona.&#13;
499&#13;
the flow varies greatly from season to season. Many ariver that can generate 500,000 horse- power in the spring is unable to produce 20,000 horsepower in seasons of extreme drought; and if such river forms the sole source of power for an electric system, only its “all-year-around” power, or minimum, can be utilized advan- tageously, and most of the excess must be wasted.&#13;
The individual development of the majority of our water powers is, therefore, out of the question. How, then, can rivers be utilized? By connecting several water powers together into a single system, and by feeding into the same system power from one or more supple- mentary steam plants. The variations in the flow of the water powers tend to counteract each other, especially if the water powers be- long to different drainage systems; while the steam plants, which are operated only when needed to make good deficiencies in the water power, assure a definite maximum amount of power at all times with the minimum consump- tion of fuel. Such a composite system, which&#13;
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This electricity is used partly&#13;
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General Guy E. Tripp&#13;
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A SUGGESTED SUPER-POWER SYSTEM FOR NORTH AMERICA&#13;
The lines shown represent the main power trunks and will, for the most part, carry current at 220,000 volts.&#13;
low-voltage distributing systems are not indicated.&#13;
Local&#13;
None of the lines will be built until economically justified; but practically all of those east of the Mississippi could be advantageously put into service at the present time, while certain of the California lines are already in operation&#13;
at 220,000 volts.&#13;
The lines indicate approximately the structure of the Eastern and Western super-power systems that will prob- ably first come into existence, together with the trans-continental connections which will be installed at some later&#13;
date to unify the two systems.&#13;
Canadian connections are not shown, but owing to the fact that Canada has much more water power than she will be able to use for generations to come, it will undoubtedly prove to her advantage to share her surplus with the&#13;
United States.&#13;
must necessarily be of large dimensions, is known as a “super-power’’ system. It not only forms the most efficient method of util- izing water power, but also possesses certain other advantages.&#13;
Obviously, the transmission lines of a super- power system must form a network covering a considerable area, and thus electric service is made available to many people, especially in the rural districts, who otherwise could not get it. Furthermore, as with other commodi- ties, the large scale productionand distribution of power by a single system makes possible many economies that are unobtainable with a number of small independent systems of equal output. Of growing importance is the fact that a super-power system can advantageous- ly use power from any economical source gen- erated within the area covered by it. Take&#13;
the case of a steel plant for example. The gases driven off from the coke ovens and the blast furnaces form an excellent fuel, but a large proportion of them is ordinarily wasted. If, however, the lines of a super-power system pass near the plant, power can be produced by the gases and fed into the system, thereby reducing the amount of power that must be supplied by the system’s supplementary steam plants.&#13;
It is evident, therefore, that a super-power system can produce power at a lower cost and distribute it to a larger number of people than can an equivalent of small independent sys- tems. But what are the technical and econ- omic limitations to its size?&#13;
There are none except those imposed by the topography of our continent. In fact, by means of a single super-power system, extend-&#13;
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The Electrification&#13;
ing from ocean to ocean and receiving power from every waterfall, from the waste products of industry, and from all other economical sources, including huge steam plants of the most efficient type placed in the coal regions and other favorable locations, we shall be able to distribute the maximum amount of power obtainable from our resources to the largest number of people at the lowest possible cost.&#13;
It is not too much to say that this would bring about a new era of progress in America. The prosperity of any country, though based upon its natural resources and the character of its people, is dependent upon the available power supply. The pioneers upon our shores, though surrounded by abundance, endured countless hardships because they lacked the power to convert raw materials into utilities; and it was not until more than two centuries later, after a number of our rivers had been harnessed and the steam engine invented, that America began to be transformed from a land of poverty into one of plenty. Since then,&#13;
our achievements have been unprecedented—&#13;
of North America 501 but each step of our advancement was made possible by power.&#13;
To-day, as economists point out, our wages and our standards of living are the highest in the world largely because our workmen use more power than those of other countries. Great Britain, with about one half our ratio of 3.25 horsepower per wage-earner, pirys wages that average one half of ours; while the other nations, with much smaller ratios, pay correspondingly lower wages and live in ac- cordance with correspondingly lower stand- ards. If, therefore, by means of the single super-power system, our capacity for doing useful work is multiplied to the greatest pos- sible extent, we should be able to realize the greatest measure of prosperity.&#13;
Specifically, the vast amount of widely dis- tributed, inexpensive electric power provided by the single super-power system will do the following things for us:&#13;
It will enable us to make the fullest use of labor-saving machinery in every industry, thereby increasing the incomes of the workers&#13;
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A HYDRO-ELECTRIC PLANT NEAR SPOKANE&#13;
This dam in the Spokane River makes a lake 23 miles long.&#13;
The fall of 150 feet operates an electric power plant.&#13;
rhis river, within the city limits of Spokane, has a descent of another 150 feet, mainly in two falls, which affords still more power that is utilized by factories and traction lines and for lighting the city&#13;
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Ke 5&#13;
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General Guy E. Tripp&#13;
It will also aid our national defense. One of the greatest difficulties experienced during the late war was to secure sufficient power to pro- duce essential materials in the vast quantities re- quired. Almost all of our power plants were small and scattered, and there was no way of combining their outputs so as to make large scale produc- tion possible. With a single super-power sys- tem in operation, how- ever, any proportion of its capacity can be allot- ted to war work in emer- gencies. Ample power thus being obtainable, war industries of any size can be brought into being with maximum speed and operated with aminimum amount of labor. They&#13;
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AUSABLE CHASM&#13;
can, moreover, be located wherever desired, thus&#13;
A popular natural wonder in New York State. The water power generated by such : : : streams as this is more and more being utilized to generate electricity. The plan to making it possible to connect all the major generating plants in the country in one gigantic systemhas avoid a repetition of that&#13;
come to be called the “‘super-power plan”’&#13;
and decreasing the cost of the products of labor for the consumers.&#13;
It will permit the electrification of many of our railroads and will also reduce to a mini- mum the tonnage of fuel to be hauled. For both of these reasons, theefficiency of our trans- portation system will be greatly improved. It wi!l, by making industry and comfortable liv- ing conditions possible almost anywhere, tend to draw the people out of the congested cities and distribute them throughout the country.&#13;
It will provide the farmer with an ideal means of doing a large part of his work and give him welcome relief from his labor diffi- culties. It will also serve him by greatly re- ducing the price of fertilizer, for with ample supplies of cheap power, fertilizer can be man- ufactured at an exceedingly low cost.&#13;
Not the least of its benefits will be the light- ening of the tasks of the housekeeper by making possible the universal use of electric cooking and labor-saving devices.&#13;
cardinal military error— the production of the major portion of our war supplies in the most vulnerable parts of the country.&#13;
We shall, it is true, survive and thrive with- out the single super-power system, but until it is completed, we shall not be able to utilize our resources to the utmost advantage. In the meantime, the system is being developed more rapidly than most people are aware. Because of the economic and technical ad- vantages of large systems, the present tenden- cy in the electric light and power industry is to consolidate or interconnect adjacent sys- tems; and as a result, super-power systems of considerable size have already been formed along the Pacific Coast, the Southeastern states, New England, and the Northwest. Others are in the process of formation in western Pennsylvania, the Middle West, and elsewhere. Continued development along these same lines, including high-tension inter- connections between adjacent super-power systems, will bring into being two large&#13;
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The Electrification of North America 503 ur super-power systems, one covering the coun- is manifestly out of the question with an of try east of the Mississippi and the other west interstate system, but attempts may be made ies of the Great Plains. Then if, some time in to bring about Federal ownership. The au- he the future, transcontinental lines join these ~ thority of the Federal Government, however, ire two systems together, the single-system will does not extend beyond national lands, bound- ro- be consummated. ary waters, and navigable rivers. It could als At the same time, the development of our not, under present laws, control the power de- re- water powers is going ahead as rapidly as pos- veloped by non-navigable streams, to say ur sible. Little could be done along this line nothing of steam plants. Any attempt on the all until certain prohibitive restrictions were part of the Federal Government to extend its are withdrawn by the present Federal Water Pow- control would be promptly resisted by the ng er Act passed in 1917; but there are now on_ states with the support of public opinion, to file with the commission created by the Act which sees the danger to our Republic in the Ic- applications for the development of more than growing tendency of the Federal authorities&#13;
a 20,000,000 horsepower of water power. to interfere in local affairs. IS Even complete and detailed plans for the But assuming that suitable legislation were to w- final system have been prepared. These plans eliminate these political obstacles, many more of are the work of Mr. Frank G. Baum, a hydro- of a different nature would still be left. Few t= electric engineer of long experience, and have people seem anxious for the Government to &gt;r- been made available to the industry with the reassume control of the railroads or continue er assistance of the Westinghouse Electric and that of the merchant marine. Yet, in com- le, Manufacturing Company. Guided by these parison with the management of the single ze plans, or by some modification of them, elec- super-power system, the management of these ng tric light and power com- nd panies in the remotest im parts of the country can ey carry on new construc- ed tion and extensions with 1s the assurance that, when to the time comes, their sys- at tems will be able to take = their proper places in the he single system. st But the single super- power system will never h- come into existence un- il less the way is prepared le for it by suitable legisla- in tion. This legislation d must not only permit the e. creation of a nation-wide -. net work of transmission 1- lines and the interchange is of power between states, . Ss but it must also fulfil cer- fm of tain other indispensable ; d conditions. ‘ n Chief among these is ‘. t. that the ownership and n operation of the single FF d super-power system must ig be in private hands and - not be vested in any gov- AN ELECTRIC TRAIN IN THE ROCKIES al ernment agency. Muni- Driven by the Missouri River which generates electric ze cipal or state ownership power at Greaz Falls, Montana, for the use of the railroad&#13;
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General Guy E. Tripp&#13;
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THE GREAT FALLS DAM&#13;
At Great Falls, Montana, where the Missouri River generates the electricity to drive the trains of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railway across the Rocky Mountains&#13;
industries is simplicity itself, for they are fully matured.&#13;
But assume that the Government was able, in some extraordinary manner, to operate such a complex business with acceptable efficiency. Even then there would be no super-power system worth the name, and for this reason. The super-power system, to serve the public in the most effective and economical manner, must supply power for all purposes and par- ticularly to those users who consume it in immense quantities. But no great industry would dare risk its future by depending on a government-owned system for its power, be- cause the contracts of any government-owned agency can be nullified by political action.&#13;
But, though the single super-power system must be under private control, it must be under government regulation in order to pre- vent the exploitation of the public in any man- ner whatsoever. This regulation, however, must be constructive and stimulating, and not restrictive. We have so regulated the railroads that few improvements and exten- sions have been made in the last decade, and the chief loss under this policy falls, not on the railroads, but on the public. This mistake must not be repeated in the case of the nation’s power system.&#13;
Among the important provisions of the reg- ulatory laws must be those that will enable the system to secure money at the lowest&#13;
rates of interest. Fixed charges form as high as 80 per cent. of the cost of producing pow- er by means of water power, and they are also an important element in the cost of steam power. If, because of unsuitable legislation, the super-power system has to pay high rates of interest for the money borrowed for con- struction work and other purposes, this cost must be passed on to the consumer in the rates charged for power. But the great value of the super-power system depends upon its ability to supply power at a low cost, and any- thing that would cause an increase in the rates above the essential minimum would be contrary to public interest. Low interest on borrowed capital being the result of sound cre- dit, there must be no legislation that will tend to injure the credit of the super-power system.&#13;
In this question of regulation lies the most difficult problem that we have to solve in con- nection with super-power development. For- tunately, we are not compelled to solve it all at once. There is ample time to study the sub- ject and gain experience with the regulation of the smaller super-power systems as they de- velop. The one essential is to remember that the aim in view is the maximum prosperity of the nation and of every inhabitant of it. If this is done, the proper solution of the problem will be found, and it will only be a question of time before America comes into the full enjoyment of her magnificent power resources.&#13;
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“THE FLEET GRIDIRON”&#13;
What the Naval War College at Newport Really Does&#13;
By REAR-ADMIRAL WILLIAM S. SIMS&#13;
E attention of the press has re-&#13;
cently been called to the Naval War&#13;
College at Newport, and the com-&#13;
ments brought forth by this tem-&#13;
porary interest show a practically&#13;
complete misconception of the nature of the College and, consequently, almost no real- ization of its really vital importance to the efficiency of the fleet and the Navy as a whole.&#13;
Generally speaking, these comments show that the college is considered “a sort of post graduate school for training officers in the theory of naval tactics’; “that men who do not take an academic training manage to educate themselves along the same lines with such success that they are equal or superior to the graduates of the college.”’ One editor referred to it as “some college that Admiral Sims thinks a lot of.”’ Some con- fused it with the elementary Naval Academy for our cadets at Annapolis. Others located it in Washington. Almost all assume that my interest in the college is personal, due to my having recently been its president. Practically all expressed solicitude for “jus- tice”’ to individual officers, but few were at all concerned over justice to the Navy or to the country. The vital question of the fighting efficiency of our fleet and the in- tegrity of our national defenses seemed to escape attention. With no exceptions the press assumes that the War College teaches only the theory of war; that its instruction is not practical, does not lead to practical action.&#13;
In view of these misapprehensions, and of the great importance of a subject which so vitally concerns our national defenses, it seems advisable to try to make this matter clear.&#13;
The real nature of the College and its vital importance to the efficiency of the navy are shown by the following statements by emi- nent authorities:&#13;
In 1892, Admiral Mahan delivered an ad- dress, as President of the College, entitled&#13;
THE PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF THE NAVAL War COLLEGE, a masterly explanation that the training at the College is so entirely practical that it teaches and trains its students “how to act, how to do our fighting, either in the broader domain of strategy, or in the more limited field of tactics, whether of the single ship or the fleet.’”’ He further states that “Navies exist for war’’, and asks this question: “Is this.neglect to master the experience of the past, to elicit, formulate, and absorb its principles, is it ‘practical’? Is it ‘practical’ to wait till the squall strikes before shortening sail? If the object and aim of the College is to promote such study, to facilitate such results, to foster and dissemi- nate such ideas, can it be reproached that its purpose is not ‘practical’?&#13;
“The day of grace is still with us—or with those who shall be the future captains and admirals. There is time yet for study; there is time to imbibe the experience of the past, to become imbued, steeped in the eternal principles of war, by the study of its history and of the maxims of its masters. But the time of preparation will pass—some day the time of action will come. Can an admiral [then] sit down and reénforce his intellectual grasp of the problem before him by a study of history, which is simply a study of past experience?”&#13;
In 1909, in his REMINISCENCES OF SERVICE AT THE WAR COLLEGE, Admiral Mahan re- ferred to the College as follows: “Year by year, as professional vision expanded, the course would increase like a rolling snowball, by gathering to itself questions of warlike activity, concerning which men would never think but for the stimulus of the College, existing for such ends only’’; and he referred explicitely to “the dangerously plausible contention that the College was in the nature of a post-graduate course.”&#13;
In 1884, Secretary of the Navy W. E. Chandler issued an order establishing at Newport a Naval War College “intended to&#13;
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complete the curriculum by adding to an ex- tent never heretofore undertaken, the study of naval warfare and international law and their cognate branches.” This order was based upon the report of a board, consisting of Commodore Luce, Commander Sampson, and Lieutenant-Commander (now Rear- Admiral) Goodrich, which declared that “although the science of war cannot be mastered through the agency of books alone, yet a complete study of the operations of war, both on land and at sea, by which the princi- ples of the science have been illustrated practi- cally, is absolutely essential to the proper education of the officers whose life is dedicated to the profession of arms.”&#13;
In an address at the College in 1896, Secre- tary of the Navy H. A. Herbert said: “The opinion was once widely entertained that this College was intended for a post-graduate course and that, this being so, it should be located, if allowed to exist at all, at the Naval Academy. | was of this opinion myself until three years ago on a personal visit | inspected its workings and examined fully into its plans and purposes. Then I . dis- covered that it is in no sense a post-graduate course; that not only are the theory and art of war being thoroughly studied and developed here, but knowledge is being acquired and practical information is being amassed without which the Navy Department cannot possibly, in the event of war, utilize the naval resources of our country.&#13;
“Ships and guns and torpedoes and men are all of little use unless officers know how to fight them. Individual ships, however bravely and skillfully they may be handled and fought, can accomplish but little if the officers do not know when, where, and how to dispose them. Further than this, plans of attack and defense must be de- vised. A study of these and of still other problems constitute the work which, | am glad to say from a careful personal in- spection of results, you have been successfully performing during the years just passed.”&#13;
It is interesting to note that one of the most important factors in converting Secretary Herbert to a belief in the value of the College was a practical example of the results it had produced, as will be seen from the following incident.&#13;
Admiral Mahan’s books, THE INFLUENCE&#13;
Rear-Admiral William S. Sims&#13;
oF SEA Power Upon History, and THE INFLUENCE OF SEA PowER UPON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND EmpiIRE, classics that have been translated into the languages of every maritime power, were developed at the Col- lege. Upon a certain occasion, in August, 1893, Secretary Herbert, having been per- suaded by his naval advisors that the War College was nothing but a “high-brow” institution, “set sail” for Newport on the Dolphin for the purpose of abolishing it. He was given Mahan’s books to read on the way and they converted him from an opponent into an enthusiastic advocate. “When I started out on this trip,” Secretary Herbert declared, “I meant to break up the War College but now | intend to do all I can to assist it.” He explained, in effect, that that work, alone, was worth more than all the War College had cost.&#13;
In 1911, Admiral Luce, the founder of the College, published an address on THE TRUE RELATION BETWEEN THE DEPARTMENT OF THE Navy AND THE NAvAL War COLLEGE, in which occur the following statements: “Through want of understanding the im- portance of the War College, together with a misconception of its true character as an educational institution, the Navy Depart- ment has failed to reap a tithe of the benefits the College had to offer.”” This was of course the result of the opposition of the naval advisors of the various secretaries. In this connection Admiral Luce published in the same year another address: ON THE RELATION BETWEEN THE U. S. NAvaAL War COLLEGE AND THE LINE OFFICERS OF THE U. S. Navy, in which he declared that: “the great ma- jority of line officers have, so far, failed to appreciate its value as an educational insti- tution” and he pointed out the necessity of “placing the naval administration on a war footing, and providing higher professional education,”” and “the double necessity of passing the greatest possible number through the mill; first to prepare the many for the higher commands which will come to them in their professional career; secondly to dis- cover the few fitted to fulfil the requirements of the Office of Naval Operations.”&#13;
In spite of the advocacy of various Secre- taries of the Navy, and the efforts of such eminent officers as Admirals Luce and Mahan, the War College was so strenuously and so successfully opposed by the senior officers&#13;
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“The Fleet Gridiron”&#13;
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THE NAVAL WAR COLLEGE AT NEWPORT, R. I. It is here that officers of the Navy study international law and the problems that demand practical solutions in time of war, and here miniature fleets are actually manceuvred on huge tables and practical, tactical, and strate- gical problems solved&#13;
of the navy that until about a dozen years ago there were practically no students assigned to it. In the address just quoted Admiral Luce stated that: “In the twenty-six years of its existence [since 1885] it has never had a class of officer students!’’ Very few officers were assigned to classes immediately after i911. The result was that on January first of the year we entered the Great War but two of the thirty-one rear admirals then on the list were graduates of the Naval War College, though two others had served as president. Within the last few years, classes of increased size have been sent to the College, and there are now on the active list 206 officers, in- cluding 24 of the 45 rear admirals, who are graduates. The naval service has begun to understand the vital importance of the practi- cal training the War College affords.&#13;
The testimony of the eminent authorities quoted above should make it clear that our Naval War College is an institution that has no parallel in civil life. Not only is it not at all in the nature of a post-graduate school, but as a matter of fact it is not a college at all. As I stated in an address delivered at the College in 1919, “It is not a college at all in the ordinary sense of the term. . . It&#13;
has no fixed policy. Neither its head nor its staff is permanent. They are fleet officers and are continually being replaced by other officers from the fleet. The College is, in effect, a part of the fleet, and it exists solely for the fleet.&#13;
“You should thus recognize that this is not really a college. Perhaps it would be better if it had never been so designated, for in reality this assemblage is nothing but a board of practical fleet officers brought together here to discuss and decide the extremely important question of how we would best conduct naval war under the various conditions that may arise.&#13;
“You should think of this board as belong- ing to the fleet—as being what you might call a fleet board on strategy and tactics, fte- quently making reports to the fleet and the service upon these vital subjects.&#13;
“You should never lose sight of the fact that we are all practical fleet officers; that we shall go back to the fleet and be replaced by others from the fleet; that our work is wholly practical, because we base our conclusions upon our own experience and upon that of those who have gone before us; and that there- fore there can be nothing theoretical about&#13;
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508&#13;
the principles of fighting that we decide to be the correct ones, or about the methods we devise for carrying them into effect.&#13;
“The principles of the war game constitute the backbone of our profession. All other kinds of nautical knowledge and experience, for example, that required for handling ships, manceuvring fleets, etc., will avail us nothing when it comes to war if we have not learned the game; that is, if we do not know how to handle naval forces, both strategically and tactically, at least as well as our oppo- nents.&#13;
“This game, like all games, can be learned only by playing it. The mere study of the art of war, even though very thorough, will no more make you competent in the practice of strategy and tactics than book knowledge of golf and tennis will make you good players. It is for this reason that the college insists not only upon the study of the art of war, but also upon the practice of it in chart manceuvres and upon the tactical game board.”&#13;
The significance of these statements is that in no possible way, except through training at the College, can our officers become compe- tent to handle a great modern fleet. No amount of study can make even a man of great intellectual capacity efficient in playing the games of football or tennis or chess or war unless he practices these games. Football and tennis and chess can be practiced to any desired extent under actual conditions; but we cannot use our entire great fleet to prac- tice the infinitely more complicated game of war—to train the minds of our officers—either in the kind or to the extent of either the tactics or the strategy that would be required in war against an enemy having a fleet similar to ours; and this for the very simple reason that, as | stated in 1912 in a paper on THE PRACTICAL CHARACTER OF THE NAVAL War CoL_eceE, “the fleet cannot be continuously used as a means of acquiring this essential mental training, except to a very limited ex- tent in the practice of minor problems . and “even the most extensive practice of minor problems cannot do much more than train the mind in the application of such knowledge as is already possessed.”&#13;
At the Naval War College our entire fleet with all of its auxiliaries, cruisers, destroyers, submarines, airplanes, troop transports, and supply vessels, can be manceuvred on the game board week after week throughout the&#13;
Rear-Admiral William S. Sims&#13;
college year against a similar fleet represent- ing a possible enemy—all operations and tactical battles being governed by rules, based upon the experience of practical fleet officers, and upon the immutable principles of strategy and tactics that the students are required to learn. There is no other service in the career of a naval officer that can possibly afford this essential training. In no way can this training be had except by assembling about a game board a large body of experi- enced officers divided into two groups and “fighting” two great modern fleets against each other—not once, or a few times, but continually until the application of the correct principles becomes as rapid and as automatic as the plays of an expert football team. This and the allied studies require the entire time and energies of the student officers throughout one whole year of intensive study. Many of the war games require more than a week to play. The College is in reality THE FLEET GripIRON—the mental training field for the fleet’s future commanders. In no other way can there be developed a doctrine of war, which the great naval operations of modern fleets require, because the commander- in-chief would often not be within sight of one- tenth of his vessels covering an area of hun- dreds of square miles.&#13;
The limitations of space, equipment, and particularly of time, make impossible the carrying out of such continuous and extensive training by the hard worked officers serving in the fleet. At most, they can play minor games of a few hours duration to illustrate general principles and the technique of college methods. This will of course be of a certain amount of use to officers who subsequently go to the college; but such fleet games, necessarily limited in extent and time, cannot in any sense supply the adequate mental training necessary for handling our entire fleet in war.&#13;
When the Atlantic and Pacific sections of our fleet come together for a few days once a year, the so-called manoeuvres they can carry out, even if not restricted by lack of appropri- ations for fuel, considered as training in battle strategy and tactics, are necessarily of trifling value compared to the year’s continuous training in using both fleets on the College game board. To assume that such yearly manoeuvres can fit an officer efficiently to handle our entire naval forces in war is&#13;
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“‘The Fleet&#13;
precisely as absurd as to assume that playing a single yearly game of football with four men on a side can fit a man to be captain of a foot- ball team, no matter what his ability nor how thorough his knowledge of the principles of the game acquired from books on the sub- ject.&#13;
The situation would be less dangerous if our naval officers who are not graduates of the College were acquainted with naval history and with the vital principles of the great game of war which they should know and be trained to apply. In this respect it may be assumed that they are in the same position as regards the most important branch of their professional education as were British naval officers in 1911. Mr. Winston Churchill states in his book THE WorLpD Crisis that when he went to the Admiralty as First Lord he “found that there was no moment in the career and training of a naval officer where he was obliged to read a single book about naval war or pass even the most rudimentary examination in naval history. The Royal Navy had made no important contribution to naval literature. The standard work on Sea Power was written by an American Admiral [Admiral Mahan]. The best ac-&#13;
counts of British sea fighting and naval&#13;
strategy were compiled by an English civilian [Sir Julian Corbett]. “The Silent Service’ was not mute because it was absorbed in thought and study, but because it was weighted down by its daily routine and by its ever compli- cated and diversifying technique. We had competent administrators, brilliant experts of every description, unequalled navigators, good disciplinarians, fine sea officers, brave and devoted hearts: but at the outset of the conflict we had more captains of ships than captains of war. In this will be found the explanation of many untoward events.” We had a similar experience in the Great War.&#13;
If there is any doubt about the deficiency&#13;
Gridiron”’ 509&#13;
of our non-graduates in this respect, the state of their information upon these vital subjects may be—and should be—determined by the Examining Board requiring candidates for promotion to submit a list of the books on the principles of warfare and on naval history that they have read, and requiring them to give a brief summary of the contents of at least one of the books mentioned, selected by the Board.&#13;
From the above examination of this im- portant subject, | believe it is established upon sufficient authority that:&#13;
1. The naval War College is a thoroughly practical institution.&#13;
. The training the College provides is essential to&#13;
the efficiency of the fleet and of the navy as a whole.&#13;
. This essential training cannot be acquired in any place or in any way, outside of a War College where officers can give their whole time and energy to it.&#13;
. It is physically impossible to acquire by service in the fleet the training necessary to handle successfully our entire naval forces in war.&#13;
Leaving out of consideration the statements of the authorities quoted herein, it would seem that conviction as to the necessity of training at the War College is a matter of such ordi- nary common sense that | was fully justified in stating, in an address delivered at the College last year, that: “No officer can here- after exercise high command with the confi- dence and respect of the service unless he has attended the course at the College that is maintained for the sole purpose of insuring efficient direction of our navy as a whole.”&#13;
An officer whose mind has not been trained on “The Fleet Gridiron” at Newport has no more right to be the “captain” and the trainer of our great naval Battle Team than a cadet untrained in football has a right to be the captain and the trainer of our Naval Academy football team.&#13;
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THE SUCCESS OF OUR SUCCESSORS&#13;
Il. THE FAITH OF THE FOUNDERS&#13;
The Surprising Proposal of the Men of ’Seventy-six to Train&#13;
a Race of Rulers.&#13;
Persistence of Their Idea that Even&#13;
the Childless Should Pay for the Schooling of the Young By WILLIAM McANDREW&#13;
For eight months the Wor.pv’s Work has had more than two hundred volunteers collecting facts and photographs in widely separated sections of the country so as to present a summary of things now being done by the American people to prepare the young actors for the next scene. In this series Mr. McAndrew, whom the magazine has sent into forty states, will deliver what he gathered from public men, bearing on their ideas of the objects of the American Union and will show what the public is doing to realize these purposes —THE Epitors.&#13;
INETEEN of the twenty-one Fourth-of-July speeches, which were reported in the newspapers that come to our branch of the public library, played variations on themes in the minor key. “Harding flays enemies within U. S.” was a heading in the Tribune. “Governor Smith,” said the Times “warns of foes within.” “The country’s enemies are tinkers of the Constitution” said Depew to the Arkansans. Conboy warned the Knights of Columbus of the danger of national suicide. Lieutenant-Governor Bing- ham, according to the Mail, exhorted his Connecticut neighbors to “resist the over- throw of standards of decency and morality or our proud nation will descend to the level of savage tribes where might makes right and every man’s hand is against his fellow.”’&#13;
Give me the files of a long established journal and | can trace a blue streak back to the beginning: Rabbi Hirsch, telling Chicago- ans that the hopes of the Fathers have been bitterly disappointed; Richard Watson Gilder describing the grief of a fine old friend who spent many moments actually weeping when he thought of his country; Seward in 1870 seeing us “in danger of losing our holy zeal’; Alexander H. Stephens in:’sixty-six dreading “the sway of sectional passion to bring the star of hope to its setting on liberty’s darkened shore’’; and in 1844, Story calling upon young men to resist encroachment upon their liberties. From Franklin, most cheerful of men, we learn of “enemies waiting with con-&#13;
    &#13;
fidence to see the break up of the nation’; and Washington himself, after forty-seven years of service to his country, recounts “passions misleading, appearances deceiving, situations marked by failure.” A_ gentle- man from Westchester County has a letter from one of his ancestral relatives to another in which, written in Philadelphia on the sixth of July, 1776, is the opinion that “this land is going straightway to perdition.”&#13;
Whether these warnings are due to prudence or to atrophied glands authorities will differ. Men over fifty are addicted to seeing shadows.&#13;
YOUTH NOT GIVEN TO THE MINOR KEY&#13;
DIFFERENT note sounds in the last Harvard graduation when young Best of Evanston, living up to his name, makes the senior oration a dialogue between aged cyni- cism and youth, and has Hope, Confidence, Self-reliance, and Enthusiasm hold the field. The lad’s votive cup, holding such cheering potion as unspoiled juvenility feels to be proper when celebrating things American, could be similarly filled from a long line of springs extending to our national beginning. The Knights of St. Patrick hilariously cheered themselves and him when General Sherman said, “I am convinced that on the whole we are quite as good as our fathers, even though the telegraph collects the murders and robberies of the four quarters of the globe and serves them at our breakfasts; whereas our ancestors heard only of those in the neighbor- hood.” Mr. Cleveland predicted the con-&#13;
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The Success of Our Successors&#13;
tinuance of this nation “through all the years to come.” In those days we were singing “The Union forever,” “Oh thus be it ever,” “Long may our land be bright.” Webster’s prediction for the Republic was “to the end of time.” Curtis’s “a thousand years and thereafter.” John Quincy Adams’s, “from age to age till time shall be no more.” Samuel Adams’s “forever,” Jackson’s “in perpe- tuity,” Whittier’s “through centuries long,” Jefferson’s “to the end of history.”&#13;
A Princeton professor shows that of these two types of exhortation the calamity style fails with youth. The young men are for getting out the colors on holidays, the old are prone to leave the flag in the drawer with the moth balls. School children left to them- selves cover their papers with bright banners of the Republic. Fear-of-hell preaching fails with vigorous men. Longfellow was young when he waved aside national danger as “ but the flapping of a sail.” Young men at races, although they go to great pains for prepara- tion, avoid warning their teams of failure. They do not cry “look out” or “take care” or “you’re losing.” But old men, so it is&#13;
said, read muckraking articles with avidity as if with satisfaction at wrong doing. They grieve over what Mark Twain, in his old age&#13;
called “the damned human race.” Towns are cleaned up politically as they are physi-&#13;
511&#13;
cally by the positives—not by the negatives. A few men plant flowers and trees, trim their lawns, and keep their homes painted. The tidiness spreads. Franklin in Philadelphia, Jones and Whitlock in Toledo, Stranahan in Brooklyn, Couzens in Detroit, Brecken- ridge in San Antonio, push some constructive idea. It proves to be catching.&#13;
It is easy to list the agencies proposing a positive plan for the national upkeep. The Democratic party and the Republican party head the list. The Fathers devised an ingenious and unsuccessful device to prevent their existence. Washington dreaded them as the greatest national danger. As illus- trated in them, “politics,” one of the high class words in the language, has suffered seri- ous damage. There are some two hundred or more citizens unions, good government clubs, and civic leagues located in the larger towns and devoted to the unsavory duty of sanita- tion of the parties. | rate them high as planners of the upkeep. The American Legion’s announcement advertises the pur- pose of “training for good citizenship; to lead individuals to adjust themselves to civic requirements’; the Knights of Columbus de- vote themselves “to service to God, to country, and to fellow man.” Rotary, Ki- wanis, Lions clubs stress their civic service. The wide spread Chautauqua movement was&#13;
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IT IS OUR YOUNG ONES WHO ARE FOR GETTING OUT THE COLORS&#13;
The old are prone to leave the flag in the drawer with the moth balls. These are boys from the Lane Technical High School in Chicago&#13;
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512&#13;
started, so said founder Vincent, “aiming ata pure and exalted patriotism.”” The Woman’s Temperance Union was organized on the basis of “preserving the capacity of the masses for self-government.” “Active and constructive citizenship” are cited as their chief aims by the promoters of the Boy and Girl Scout move- ments. Ira Nelson Morris resigns as U. S. Minister to head “Uncle Sam’s_ voters,” designed “to unite intelligent, patriotic thought on civic problems.” Frederick Goff, in Cleveland, puts his money into the “Com- munity Trust’ to finance movements looking toward the realization of the highest American ideals. There is a respectable number of Americans thinking of the upkeep and plan- ning for it.&#13;
Illuminating all their resolutions and ad- justments is their intention of perpetuity. Here is the element that gives the epic flavor even to the personal letters of the first Ameri-&#13;
William McAndrew&#13;
cans and enables us, a century and a half later, to read and reread in the way that the devout get strength out of the Holy Scriptures.&#13;
THE FOUNDERS HAD PLANS&#13;
bpp meagan “The time is come when a system of universal education ought to be adopted in the United States. In a country governed by the sense of the com- munity, the people must be enlightened.”&#13;
Franklin: “ Education is essential to supply succeeding ages with men qualified to serve the public.”&#13;
John Adams: “It must be the care of the public to educate every rank and class in the practice of their moral duties as men and citizens.”&#13;
Jefferson: “ There is no safe deposit of the propensities of government but with the people themselves. A system of general in- struction must reach every description of our people from richest to&#13;
 &#13;
THE JEFFERSON STATUE BY KARL BITTER This statue at the University of Virginia commemorates the early beginning of higher education as a governmental duty&#13;
poorest.”’&#13;
Jay: “Nothing should be left undone to afford education to all ranks of the people.”&#13;
Madison: “ Peoplewho mean to be their own governors must be edu- cated.”’&#13;
Monroe: “Every dis- trict in all its members must possess the knowl- edge necessary to qualify them to discharge with credit and effect those great duties of citizens on which our govern- ment depends.”&#13;
I should know how successive public men regarded these unique proposals. I can ask them through the me- dium of a book, Expres- stons of American States- men, Which Henry Evans of the Department of the Interior has compiled. | can hear Clinton in 1847 saying: The first duty of government is educa- tion. A system of public schools is the palladium&#13;
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’&#13;
“THE LAWN”,&#13;
UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA,&#13;
. : a pal&#13;
= aa ONE . 2&#13;
‘ iil | i&#13;
CHARLOTTESVILLE&#13;
Jefferson counted the Declaration of Independence and the University of Virginia, which he founded, his greatest achievements, and considered them similar in purpose&#13;
of our freedom. A fundamental error is to confine the light of education to the wealthy.” 1 can listen to Webster declaring in 1837: “education, necessary to accomplish the ends of good government, must be universally diffused.” Thaddeus Stevens in 1835 de- mands “schooling for every citizen.”” Everett in 1850 proposes popular education to save society. One is justified to take the words of Lincoln calling public education “the most important thing which we, the people, are engaged in” as speaking for now as well as then. The public utterances of Grant, of Hayes, of Garfield, of Arthur, of Cleveland, of Harrison, of McKinley, of Roosevelt, of Taft, of Wilson, when the presidents fulfilled any call to summarize the condition of the country, repeated the American doctrine that continuing the commonwealth depends upon systematic training of the coming generations in the national faith.&#13;
Why need one offer these old propositions which present so little variation? Why must Mr. Harding repeat the first president’s plan to continue the commonwealth by means of “‘a system of universal education?” Possibly it is because the means is so much older than the purpose that ancient objectives of schools persist to confuse the American conception of their function as a part of the national system of self government. Mr. Mann found the national purpose neglected two genera- tions after the republic was launched. A stu- dent of law, recognized as a statesman, found&#13;
that what the Makers had considered as of “primary importance’ in “supplying the succeeding age with citizens” was being de- voted to purveying a brand of mediaeval learning compiled in foreign monarchies not for democracy nor for any civic service at all. “Children who are soon to be the State,” as he called them, he found the victims of a system devised to promote not citizenship but scholarship. His career was a conflict of statesmanship with schoolmastery : democracy versus didactics, Americanism against an ancient idea not overturned by the Revolu- tion.&#13;
DILUTING AMERICAN DOCTRINE&#13;
FTER him came so many inventors and&#13;
proponents of educational aims—Prus-&#13;
sian principles, Platonic revivals, philosophies&#13;
of education—that a few years back the&#13;
country was generally quoting a Harvard&#13;
professor that national education had all sails set and didn’t know where it was going.&#13;
We tax every citizen for schools whether he has any children or not. This fact makes it easy to reject the scholar as the authority for what our schools should do and to abide rather by what the people, not as parents, but as citizens, maintain education for.&#13;
| should like to look at the national thought to-day for traces of the civic purpose of schools that has been traced from Washington to Wilson. Starting in Brooklyn one may travel west and observe in this year’s addresses&#13;
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SENATOR ROYAL 5S. COPELAND&#13;
“Don’t say to the boy ‘study&#13;
hard and rise in the world’ but&#13;
‘don’t be a beggar; pay back&#13;
the town, the state, that gives&#13;
you your education’ ”’&#13;
WOODBRIDGE N.&#13;
ance&#13;
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FERRIS&#13;
“The people pay for the public schools as for democracy insur-&#13;
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OU. &amp;U. WILLIAM GIBBS McADOO ** Among the duties we perform as a commonwealth, education is para- mount.” The teacher is a Gov- ernment official&#13;
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NEWTON&#13;
‘The chief business of democracy is edu-&#13;
cation; the chief, not the incidental, business of education is democracy”&#13;
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© Clinedinst&#13;
WILLIAM C. REDFIELD&#13;
‘To tax all the people to edu-&#13;
cate the children of some,&#13;
means that public rather than&#13;
private benefit shall be empha- sized in school&#13;
      &#13;
D. BAKER&#13;
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The Success of Our Successors&#13;
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A CIVIC CONTRIBUTION&#13;
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OF TWO AMERICANS&#13;
A school and transportation system for a rural community given by Alice T. and W. H. Miner, to Chazy, N. Y. as they said, “‘for citizenship in the process of performance”’&#13;
a remarkable adherence to the original American design.&#13;
From William C. Redfield you get the ob- servation that the logic of having everybody pay for training other people’s children is not to put a volume of knowledge into young heads. It is to furnish clear thinking Ameri- cans who will be national assets: public benefits, not merely self-supporting units. Redfield says the public school system is struggling to grow from a mechanism to an organism, a live public service rather than a dead machine. To memorize the names of the Presidents is useless; to glow with enthusiasm over the unselfish devotion of this or that American to the general welfare, to feel a family pride in the generous service of citi- zens living and dead is to develop desire of imitating them. To learn a list of national boundaries is to fill the mental attic with use- less furniture, but our whole attitude toward the nations of the world needs more humane knowledge of human geography. “I sat ata banquet of the National Geographic Society,” ne says, “with the Ambassador from Great Britain on my right, the Ambassador from France on my left. I said | felt like the English Channel. It fell flat.”&#13;
To use a judgment fresh from a study of popular needs and desires of New York City and State, here is the new Senator, Royal S. Copeland, outlining in a recent speech his idea of the national purpose. “A slogan for the&#13;
schools is ‘service, not self.’ The public pays the cost. It is not a parents’ association combining to give their children personal benefits. It is not a device to secure fame and fortune for ambitious youth. The found- ers of the public schools said that the schools are for general welfare not individual gain. We don’t say to the boy any more, ‘Study hard and rise in the world; but we say ‘The town, the state is educating you, pay back, don’t be a beggar, be an American, serving your country in peace as well as in war.’”’&#13;
At the next stop, Cleveland, Newton D. Baker has just said in an address, “ The chief business of democracy is education: the chief business of education is democracy. The school is the training place for preserving this. The only way our commonwealth can outlast the tests put to it depends on the lives of the boys and girls now in the hands of the public school teachers. Youth with a national bias rather than witha bent for books, service rather than scholarship, a great education of purpose rather than a selfish ambition merely to get ahead in the world, are what the country has the right to demand of its schools. Jefferson had in his drawer the constitutions of many democracies that had failed. Yet he had faith to try anew one. His proposal for universal education as a safeguard of democracy was accompanied by a statement of purpose particularly essential now: ‘to teach men what is going on in the world and to lead&#13;
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William McAndrew&#13;
SCHOOLED FOR SERVICE The American Boy Scout Movement is professedly organized and insistently maintained on the intent to maintain the national civic ideal&#13;
each to desire to make his part of it go on right.’”’ For a Middle West representative opinion,&#13;
Woodbridge N. Ferris ought to satisfy. The people of Michigan have made him their Governor repeatedly, and now he is their&#13;
Senator. From Ohio to the Rocky Mountains his speaking engagements indicate a popular satsifaction with his view. From a speech May toth, this year, | get this: “The public school is a public not-a private service, not to please parents or university professors nor to perpetuate a portion of the world’s know- ledge, but to train boys to be men, girls to be women, for the benefit of our common coun- try. The people support the school that it may be a national insurance of democracy.”&#13;
1 choose Mr. William Gibbs McAdoo for both the Southern and the Pacific coast opin- ion, for he is in touch with each. | find him saying this: “Among the duties we perform as a commonwealth, education is paramount. Teachers are government officials which, in our country, means public servants. They are too patriotic to strike; but they are too indispensable to be neglected. We must realize that upon the school the future civic health of our nation depends. We must keep this prominent in our minds, and we must build up a high class and respected personnel to take care of it. Parsimony in this field is indefensible.”’&#13;
MEN EMPLOYED TO THINK PUBLIC-MINDEDLY&#13;
MONTH ago a citizen who was asked to&#13;
propose an inscription for the entrance to acommon school decided he ought to take the advice of the public as well as the school people. Considering the New York Evening Post a representative of both, he asked for advice. Edwin F. Gay, the editor, told him:&#13;
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EVERY SCHOOL IS A CITIZENS’ CLUB Detroit puts club rooms for adults in all its schoolhouses, and makes them civic&#13;
centres.&#13;
Maybe that is one reason why this city pays its school tax blithely&#13;
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The Success of Our Successors&#13;
“You should ask your motto makers to get some condensed form of these facts: universal suffrage without ability to read, not to speak of ability to think, is a farce. Democracy without education for citizenship is a failure. The makers of America saw that and there- fore made schools a charge upon all the people. The public schools may help in earning a living; they must help meet the social responsi- bility of a democracy.” This led the seeker of a proper inscription to send Gay’s sugges- tion to his home paper, The Wisconsin News. Its editor composed this: “ Dedicated to the liberty and rights guaranteed by the Consti- tution of the United States and to the support of every law compassed by that noble in- strument of self-government.” It was tried on Louis Howland, editor of the Indianapolis News. He said, “You could do better, but keep to this same line.”” Editor Dillon of the Minneapolis News responded, “The idea is correct; but the wording should be both terse and comprehensive.” Then the en-&#13;
quirer tried the South. Clark Howell of the Atlantic Constitution told him, “For the broad aims and proper objectives for a public school take the official purposes of the nation itself: equality, life, liberty, happiness, union, jus- tice, tranquility, defense, and general welfare.&#13;
Impress all of these fundamentals into the heads of American youth, and we will have no further vse for courts or jails.” Thereupon the Minneapolis Tribune proposed this: “Dedicated by the people to the American Ideal: equality, life, liberty, happiness, union, justice, tranquility, defense, and general wel- fare.” The Buffalo Express commented, “Now you've got it.””. Editor Dennis, Chicago Daily News, decided: “This is a happy choice.” The Detroit News said, “This is now appropriate.” Fullerton Waldo of the Public Ledger, Philadelphia, added “| have read it over several times. You need add nothing. You can’t take anything away, ‘American ideal’ is fine. Let it sink into the work of teachers and children. It will, even insensibly and sub-consciously, influence one’s whole life.”&#13;
So there you have from men whose daily business it is to think public-mindedly, a re- markable, though unconscious, repetition of what Redfield, Copeland, Ferris, and McAdoo reported as their conviction of the proper aims of schools and of what Washington, Lincoln, and the great Americans in be-&#13;
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A SKY-SCRAPER SCHOOL&#13;
The metropolis will have school.accom- modations even if it cannot get land&#13;
tween recorded. It doesn’t stop here. The Worvp’s Work canvassed Governors from New England, the Middle States, the South, the Rocky Mountains region, and the Coast. Governors Templeton, Smith, Morrison, Dixon, and Richardson replied, expressing the opinion that old and young, teachers and taught, should be reminded of the civic pur- poses of public education. These American commonplaces are not rehearsed here as argument of pleading. They are like old familiar songs, the more often sung, the greater the satisfaction. Or as our New York Secretary of State told an audience of school boys, “We should have muezzins of&#13;
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  &#13;
Re See EE ss é MR) FD&#13;
—?&#13;
we N&#13;
Wi: ae. Th Py); BY | Ny NA, : WAV A&#13;
: Pe ae son's ale&#13;
a '&#13;
well as in churches. School, Chicago&#13;
patriotism every day upon the watch-towers calling the faithful to repeat their vows of loyalty and service to their country.” What all these expressions bring us to is that the makers of this commonwealth expected it to be preserved; they devised the manner of its upkeep; the Americans qualified to speak for the general public do put the same distant and peculiar purposes upon education as the founders did.&#13;
A PROPOSAL FOR A PRACTICAL PATRIOTIC PANORAMA&#13;
S THESE objectives are specifically set forth in our two fundamental docu- ments, the Declaration and the Constitution, | propose in the following articles to show what the people in their schools are doing to promote each of the nine ends comprising the original American ideal: equality, life, liberty, happiness, union, justice, tranquility, defense,&#13;
  &#13;
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Courtesy Florence Holbrook IN MEMORY OF TEACHERS This generation has recognized the suitability of beautiful memorials in schools as This is a commemorative window in the Forestville Public&#13;
William McAndrew&#13;
general welfare. The ma- gazine has sent me as far west as the Coast, as far south as the Gulf, I have reached the northern boundary. No man nor board has refused co- Operation. But if any citizen knows of any im- proved and particularly cheering civic service that is not comprised in the collection already made by this magazine, let him forward to it facts and photographs forthwith. For we have the testimony of the line of great Americans that education is the greatest of our national duties. As every true man of science supplies his fel- lows with reports of his experiments and discov- eries, men who are push- ing the American educa- tional advance may in this manner help along some other locality.&#13;
1 do not know how much statisticians, such as Mr. Trent of Elkins, West Virginia, startle us with figures showing that for every $9.60 for education we pay $13.00 for tebacco, $14.00 for cosmetics, pop, and chewing gum, etc. | am not sure how much store the Founders would set by the fact that Massa- chusetts people average seven years in school and earn $200 a year, while Tennessee attends three years and earns $116. At Franklin Lane’s estimate of $825,000,000 a year lost to the country by the 5,516,163 illiterates above ten years of age, we Americans are not so much depressed because of the dollars in- volved as moved to do more when we think of the sublimity of the conception the Found- ers had of the destiny of our race. It is the one influence that is able to inspire men of religious belief and men without it. It radiates something of the heroic into every sort of citizen.&#13;
I recall distinctly just twenty-two years ago a meeting of a thousand schoolmasters in&#13;
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Detroit dozing on a sul- try afternoon over the details of teaching eco- nomics when a man from Louisville, Reuben Post Halleck, mildly suggested that the course of study doesn’t matter much but American character does, and has from the begin- ning meant generosity, unselfishness, team-work, care for the other fellow, general welfare. Without raising his voice or using any of the gesticulations of the orator, this young man induced electric currents through the au- dience and made the hour the most produc- tive of the whole conven- tion. Who shall say that this instinctive veneration for the belief of our fathers along with that universal desire for a better to- morrow should be reserved only for use in time of war or by candidates anticipating personal advantage from a coming election? The growth of it, in the direct employment of the agency the Founders selected :s measur- able to a degree by figures. Private gifts to education in this generation increased from eight millions a year to sixty-seven millions, tax raised money for public education from $140,000,000 to $1,045,000,000.&#13;
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THE PROSPEROUS AND THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS&#13;
F LATE a number of writers have won- dered why philanthropists have not in greater numbers given to common schools&#13;
Oo”, z&#13;
A&#13;
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A CALIFORNIA CHILD’S IDEA OF SCHOOL&#13;
This drawing, her own notion, by Myra Williams, a school girl of Sacramento, shows Columbia lending her children, for civic training, to Educatior&#13;
instead of to churches, colleges, and private schools. Those able to give have not been generally asked. The advantage of such giving is not made clear. A donor would hesitate to give his town a water-works or to endow a police force. The similarity of the condition is remote. A town will supply it- self with water, with police, and with equip- ment to extinguish fire. The rewards are obvious and imminent. The likelihood of direct personal benefit to each contributor is clear. There is no widespread national shortage of fire-engines nor of any municipal improvement contributory to immediate mak- ing or saving of dollars. Provision for train- ing citizens depends upon appeals to an unstatistical feeling: generosity, humanity, public spirit, benevolence, patriotism. These&#13;
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THE SCHOOLBOY WILL HAVE FLAGS His patriotism does not have to be aroused, but utilized&#13;
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William McAndrew&#13;
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os le #&#13;
JOHN HANDLEY 'S GIFT TO WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA&#13;
As a carpenter’s apprentice he learned in night school that the foundation of democracy is education.&#13;
his fortune for it.&#13;
Later he gave&#13;
The Genera! Education Board advised this monument of beauty and utility for the realization of his&#13;
intent&#13;
are the higher emotions—l| do not say rarer. The number of Americans able to spare generously who have, with their substance, shown that they appreciate the reasons why the public schools cannot without private aid serve the community as well as men know how to serve it, is not anywhere fully recorded. | have found no town or city without one or many quiet givers who have bestowed land, playgrounds, shops, libraries, apparatus, pic- tures, flags, gardens, or other gifts upon their public schools.&#13;
CONSPICUOUS GIFTS TO COMMON SCHOOLS&#13;
Bag esa ae for the intelligent com- pleteness of such a gift is the rural school in the township of Chazy, N. Y.&#13;
Alice T. and W. H. Miner gave it. tablet at the entrance they say:&#13;
“CHILDREN OF CHAZY CITIZENS OF PHE FUTURE&#13;
“It is our greatest hope that you may pre- pare yourselves not alone to accomplish your own advancement but to carry to all man- kind a fruitful message of high purpose and patriotic example.”&#13;
On the&#13;
The modern completeness of this beautiful school and the generosity of the donors bewildered the townspeople. “It’s a dream- school,” | heard them say. “It has made this place a Land of Heart’s Delight.” “It will be a model for other fortunate and patrio- tic citizens to copy.”” The most significant&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
A MURAL PAINTING OF OLD&#13;
” an a&#13;
“wil&#13;
es a&#13;
MANHATTAN&#13;
Citizens living near the Louisa Schuyler Public School, New York, are putting their money into decorating -it&#13;
 &#13;
The Success of Our Successors&#13;
 &#13;
A DECORATIVE PANEL IN THE JONAS BRONCK SCHOOL The ordinary New York citizen who can not make a munificent gift can contribute the cost of one figure&#13;
remark I heard was this: “The miners wanted to do something of the greatest direct benefit to their town and so they selected to give a common school.”&#13;
There is the case of John Handley. ‘He wished, says the Star of his home town, Winchester, Virginia, “to recognize the foundation of democracy, the public school.” To this he bequeathed his fortune. The town called in the General Education Board of the United States to give expert advice. Result: a plant of amazing utility and beauty, a system which the young superintendent, Frederick E. Clerk, says is based on the idea that education and citizenship are the same. It is our purpose to have the children live for the community.”&#13;
With a similar intent, Jacob Tome pre- sented his town, Port;Deposit, Maryland, with a public school; Durfee did the same for Fall River; Rogers for Fairhaven; Hackley for Muskegon; Breckenridge for San Antonio; McLean for Greenfield; Hazard for Gardiner; Gilbert for Winstead. If any reader knows other conspicuous examples it will be a good civic act to report them to this magazine.&#13;
THE FOUNDERS PLANNED BEYOND CHILD- HOOD&#13;
ITH a biasof an illogical tradition, some&#13;
of us are prone to think of public educa- tion as extending only to the age of twelve or fourteen. Washington did not so consider it. Nor did Jefferson. Both conceived universi- ties as a part of the general system. The first proposed, the second established, for men, an institution supported by the public&#13;
tax. Of all the Founders of the Republic, positive as they were as to the need of training for the upkeep, Jefferson devoted by far the longest and most constructive thinking to the plans for it. His State University of Virginia he called “a system of instruction which shall reach every description of our citizens from the richest to the poorest.” It now enrolls young men from Arizona, California, Colo- rado, Connecticut, Delaware, Columbia, IIli- nois, Indiana, lowa, Kansas, Maryland, Mas- sachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Nebraska, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, North Dakota, Ohio, Okla- homa, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Washington, to the number of 325 in addition to its 1,247 men from the South. This omits its summer and extension courses.&#13;
Over the gateway you see the same old American intent renewed by an inscription put up eight years since:&#13;
ENTER AND SEEK THE WAY OF HONOR, THE WILL TO WORK FOR MEN&#13;
In similar vein are the sentiments ex- pressed in the recent dedication of the Union Building at Purdue University, a state sup- ported institution of Indiana. The imposing structure is a memorial to the men who en- listed for the common defense. The opening words of its dedication consecrated it to “ser- vice of our own human kind.” When the president accepted it he took it as “a pledge of undying faith in the courage and constancy of our American youth.”&#13;
 &#13;
FAKERS AND FALLACIES&#13;
Old and New Schemes Still Used to Dupe the Public and Ways to Prevent Their Practice&#13;
By FLOYD W. PARSONS&#13;
ANYTHING is more amazing than the&#13;
carelessness people exercise in their giv-&#13;
ing, it must be the ease with which the&#13;
average citizen is fooled. The easy-&#13;
money men of the days of Barnum were paragons of virtue compared with the charity swindlers of to-day. The modern dishonest solicitor does not hesitate to use bogus letter- heads and forged credentials. He frequently poses as the representative of some reputable and well known association. Two men were sent to prison recently in New York for solic- iting advertisements for a proposed book to be issued by a benevolent association. But that our metropolitan population is easily duped is proved by the fact that these fakers got away with four thousand dollars before they were apprehended.&#13;
Bird S. Coler, New York City’s Commis- sioner of Public Welfare, has just been com- pelled to take action looking to the restriction of the use of the streets for poppy sales, money drives, cashbox solicitations, and block par- ties, all tolerated hitherto in the ostensible interests of more or less worthy charities. An investigation has shown that a large propor- tion of the money collected in this manner never reaches the supposed beneficiaries. It is urged that even policemen should not be permitted to sell tickets or to solicit contribu- tions on the streets or in other public places in the interests of any fund, however worthy. When the police are permitted to do this, it is inevitable that others will claim a like privilege.&#13;
Not long ago an organization was started by irresponsible people to sell poppies on the streets on Memorial Day. The sponsors of this movement turned loose their sales agents several days before the reputable organiza- tions commenced their poppy-selling cam- paign, so the latter called off their proposed sale in disgust. It is estimated that 300,000 poppies were sold, at an average price of about 25 cents each. But only $7,000 was&#13;
paid over to the society rendering service to our ex-soldiers. Shortly after this drive had been completed, the organization that con- ducted the campaign was declared bankrupt, and every hope of regaining for charity any of the misappropriated funds quickly disap- peared.&#13;
Notwithstanding all that has been said and done to warn the public concerning fake charities, the game of getting easy money from gullible citizens appears to go on unabated. Frequently the solicitor and his accomplices create an organization for the sole purpose of getting out a year book or a souvenir pro- gramme. One such group gathered in some unsuspecting dollars in a number of Eastern cities only a short time ago. The only copies of the journal for the supposed association were those published for use in the collection campaign. The addresses given by the collec- tors proved to be saloons. Yet many mer- chants placed advertisements with these dis- honest salesmen.&#13;
In many cases, even when the cause is worthy, the plan followed in getting contri- butions does not permit much of the money to reach the charity that needs it. Take, for instance, the case of a magazine selling for ten cents. The agents maintained that the proceeds were applied to sending tubercular children to an institution in a Southern state, and caring for them there. An examination showed that of every ten cents collected, the solicitor got four and the managing agent two. The financial report of the organization in- dicated that $4,000 had been spent on the general maintenance of the home, while $25,000 had been applied to printing, head- quarters expenses, and overhead charges. In other words, only fourteen per cent. of the total money reaching headquarters was used to benefit the children. Furthermore, this fourteen per cent. was only about six per cent. of the gross receipts.&#13;
No person is more easily moved by an ap-&#13;
 &#13;
Fakers and Fallacies&#13;
pealing story than the average American bus- iness man. This may be a tribute to his generosity, but certainly not to his intelligence and good judgment. It is not uncommon to hear the remark, “Well, | suppose | get trimmed occasionally, but | would rather have it that way than miss an opportunity to help a really worth-while cause.” Such a point of view is well meant, and without doubt shows a spirit of sympathy and kindliness; but it should not be overlooked that loose, careless giving seriously injures the deserving chari- ties.&#13;
The common plan of fake charities is to make a seasonal appeal. In the summer they collect for fresh-air benevolences, while in the winter their begging is based on the necessity of providing coal and food for the destitute. Frequently the poor and needy family is the solicitor’s own household, and it usually develops that this particular home is anything but poverty-stricken. While chambers of commerce and other business organizations are undoubtedly making headway in their efforts to eliminate fake charities, this evil practice cannot be stopped until the public itself becomes interested in the matter and lends its coéperation. A large amount of money would be saved for investment in worthy causes if all business men, before contributing, would seek advice from their local chamber of commerce concerning the worthiness of the appeal.&#13;
A FEW PREVENTIVE MEASURES&#13;
OME sound and simple rules to minimize fraud and increase the efficiency of money devoted to charity work may be stated as follows: Don’t answer remitor-return letters from organizations with which you are not acquainted. Examine the merits of the project to be benefited. Never feel com- pelled to contribute to sectarian organizations unless you are a member. Don’t keep on giving year after year to a cause without an occasional checking up of the work. Refuse to give to any organization that does not issue an annual report, with an audited financial statement. Also insist on knowing some- thing of the character of the methods em- ployed, and require adequate evidence that results, in serving a public purpose, justify the money expended. Do not give money on the street. This method of raising funds is not only expensive,&#13;
523&#13;
but it has been so abused that the plan is falling into disrepute. Insist on a receipt for every contribution, which shall show the name and address of the organization to which the money was given. Giving a receipt is the first step in proper accounting, and all worthwhile organizations follow this business- like plan. Never accept a hitherto unknown organization at its own valuation. Inform yourself concerning it through disinterested agencies. Refuse to advertise in programmes until you know whether or not the advertising is offered on a sound business basis. Don’t advertise blindly, but be sure that your money is financing a bona fide proposition.&#13;
Last, and most important of all, remember that the rule, investigate before you invest, applies to charities as well as to financial undertakings.&#13;
Then there are a lot of other methods the fakers use to gather in easy money. One common plan is to procure funds by means of a chain letter. Such a letter, asking that copies be mailed to four friends, will reach into the millions in a very short time. Of course, in some instances, chain letters have been used to help worthy causes. But even in such a case, this scheme is undesirable, due to its uncertainty and lack of control.&#13;
Generally these chain letters are pure frauds. A firm in an Eastern city started such a letter, promising a certain article of merchandise to all who would remit ten cents. The scheme was exposed by the post office inspectors, but at last reports the postmaster in the city where the letter was started had received 600,000 of these letters enclosing dimes, and since there is absolutely no way to stop a chain letter once it is started, the money continued to come in, notwithstanding the fact that the fraud order was issued some time ago. One chain letter quoting a prayer has been circulating for more than ten years. It predicts calamity for those who do not comply, so it is probably good for a century or two.&#13;
THE REMIT-OR-RETURN PLAN&#13;
NE favorite scheme of the professional&#13;
faker is to use the remit-or-return plan for collecting foolish dollars. An example of this form of swindle is best indicated by an actual letter that was used by one faker in trying to rope in an Eastern business man. The letter read: “Our mutual friend, Harry&#13;
 &#13;
Floyd W. Parsons&#13;
Smith, dropped in here this morning on his way to the Coast, and bought a couple of Navajo blankets. He mentioned your name, stating that you wanted to get some of these goods, and it was his intention to pick out half a dozen blankets for you and have us ship them on, but the train stops only a few minutes, so he asked me to make the selec- tions and forward them. ‘Better send one first,’ thinks I, ‘and see how he likes it.’ And so | am shipping by parcel post to-day one of our prettiest and best woven blankets, with invoice enclosed. You will note | have made you a 10 per cent. discount from the regular price—thank Harry for that.”’&#13;
The prospective customer replied: “Re- turning your bill herewith, as | have turned the rug over to our chamber of commerce, which has a department that looks after things of this kind. If you feel like it, you may thank Harry for that. Mighty sorry I haven't any friend named Smith. Am amazed you should expect to find anybody so easy.”&#13;
In this particular case, the faker and not the merchant was stung. But investigators have found that in some instances schemes of this kind have worked with nine people out of ten.&#13;
Never before has there been so much solicitation for dubious causes as right now. The streets of our towns and cities abound with collectors of all kinds. An old colored woman recently took part in the mad scram- ble for easy money, and when approached to do some housework for a needy family, she replied that she had to go out collecting “foh de missionary society.”” “But | have work for you,” said the housewife, “and you need all you can earn. What do they pay you for collecting?’’ “I don’t get paid at all,” said the colored solicitor. “1 just gets what | collects.”&#13;
As a matter of fact, many schemes of the kind here described are successful, not only because the public is careless, but because prominent people thoughtlessly permit the indiscriminate use of their names and in- fluence. One case is recited of a fake organ- ization on whose letterhead were listed the names of thirty men—all of whom appear in Who’s Who in America. An investigation showed that these individuals knew practi- cally nothing concerning the society’s plans of management or of how the funds were being expended. All of these well known people&#13;
refused to assume any responsibility for the swindle.&#13;
A lot of money would be saved if everyone would bear in mind and observe a few simple, common-sense rules: First, require that col- lectors show their credentials. Second, do not contribute just to get rid of a solicitor. Third, do not give to any organization that has only a post office box number for an ad- dress. Fourth, mail your check to the treasurer—don’t give cash to the collector. Fifth, beware of the concern that does not make a public annual financial statement. Sixth, be very careful about giving to a one- man organization—investigate first.&#13;
Then in our fraternity of fakers we must not overlook the patent-medicine charlatans who manufacture concoctions guaranteed to cure whatever ails you... The ease with which most people are persuaded to swallow un- known compounds in an effort to provide self-treatment, is a serious matter. The mother of a large family of small children was afflicted with frequent headaches. A friend of this woman also had suffered from head- aches and had found relief in using some tab- lets. She suggested to the mother that some of this medicine might relieve her, and the sick woman tried them, with fatal results. The headaches of the unfortunate victim had been caused by an organic heart disease, and the medicine, a powerful depressant, was a drug opposite in effect to what should have been prescribed. Five children were left motherless, and a careless friend, through ignorance, was guilty of something bordering on manslaughter.&#13;
Though legislation has been enacted to prevent the printing and use of labels and circulars that lay claim to ridiculous curative powers for many fake medicines, the makers of such nostrums continue to thrive in their dealings with a profitable clientele. One investigator who examined a number of patented drugs, found that some of them con- tained wood alcohol, a common cause of blindness; acetate of lead, an inducer of paralysis; nitrate of silver, a producer of the incurable disease argyria, in which the skin of the victim turns blue; and bichloride of mer- cury, adeadly poison. Although we are mak- ing progress in the right direction, our present laws are not evasion-proof.&#13;
It is only human nature for people who are ill to try to cure themselves, thereby saving&#13;
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oO&#13;
1 d a e t h 8&#13;
mm fe SY CD me&#13;
= Te ee ee 8&#13;
Fakers and Fallacies&#13;
the doctor’s fee. Since it is impossible to prevent this dangerous pastime of self- medication, the only way to eliminate the re- sults of the dangers is to make it practically impossible to sell fraudulent medicines. Peo- ple must be educated to know that headaches result from dozens of causes. A cure is no good unless it is aimed at the real seat of the trouble. Such remedies as contain the coal- tar drugs, give relief only through their knock- out action, similar to what a prize fighter might bring about by administering a blow on the head or the solar plexus.&#13;
Certain kinds of advertising have been carried on for years with such success that the average citizen has come to believe that a pain in the back is an evidence of kidney trouble. However, the truth is that more than 90 per cent. of the people who have kid- ney disease never have such a pain. Many other ideas with no greater foundation of truth have been cultivated by designing manufacturers of worthless nostrums. No one can say how many poor unfortunates were started on their road to ruin by the use of drugs contained in dangerous medicines that are still sold to an unsuspecting public. There is great need for a real awakening of the public mind, coupled with more effective legislation, to end the swindling practices of drug charlatans.&#13;
AMERICAN SUPERSTITIONS&#13;
UT easy money would not be so readily obtained by the fakers if it were not for the extreme gullibility of a large proportion of the American public. Even a cursory ex- amination will show that we cling to an astonishing array of foolish ideas in spite of our boasted higher civilization. Superstition is a race inheritance that endures through the centuries. Chance sayings heard in child- hood persist through life. The chief factors that perpetuate common superstitions are the power of suggestion, through hearing others repeat certain ideas, and the instinctive desire of the human mind to come to quick conclusions—that is, to accept lazily broad general solutions of problems, rather than go to the mental labor of working out more logical answers. Man’s curiosity has always been greater than his capacity to interpret Nature and life. Several thousand years ago the Oriental tried to divine the future by geometrical&#13;
figures; the lady of ancient Rome used a system of interpretations based on the shapes formed by melted wax when dropped into water; most of the ancients believed that dreams afforded clues for forecasting events, and the sale of dream books has continued unabated up to the present time.&#13;
The silly ideas that continue to-day are too numerous to mention. A lot of folks believe that if you rub a wart with a stolen dishrag and then bury it, the wart will disappear when the rag decays. A potato carried in the pocket will cure rheumatism. You can cure an aching tooth by touching it with the tooth of a dead person and afterward greasing it with marrow. A broken mirror means seven years’ bad luck. A gift of pearls will bring tears. An opal ring is unlucky for the wearer. The owner of a rabbit’s foot is pos- sessed of a talisman that will bestow favor and fortune. It is bad luck to cross through a funeral procession, and good fortune will forsake you if you return for a forgotten article and fail to sit down before you start on your way again. Such beliefs are too foolish to deserve comment; and yet we have among us right now a great army of people who are influenced by these or other equally ridiculous credulities. One reason for the continuance of superstitious beliefs is the everlasting truth that ““men mark when they hit and seldom when they miss.”&#13;
Without doubt, we have passed the age of witchcraft, but instead we have such things as the ouija board and spook stuff to foster morbid fears and upset the normal, healthy action of susceptible minds. Un- happiness, misery, and insanity have resulted to many weak intellects through the con- centration of thought on illogical notions. And strange as it may seem, some of our most superstitious citizens are the bankers, invest- ment dealers, and stock exchange men who deal with cold, hard facts every day of their lives. The stock trader is not at all a rarity who carries in his pocket a trinket of some sort, which is his amulet. Not long ago an eminently successful speculator died, and of all his possessions, the one most sought after by his fellow traders was an old coin which had been his pocket piece all through his stock exchange career.&#13;
It is strange that in a world which prides itself upon its progress in matters scientific, there should still be room for fanciful theories,&#13;
 &#13;
526&#13;
ridiculous superstitions, and fallacious con- cepts that parallel in ignorance the wild imaginings of the Dark Ages. While many seventeenth century notions have been dis- sipated by the cold white light of logical rea- soning, these early fallacies have been sup- planted by Twentieth Century delusions that are no less remarkable when we consider the degree of credence that is placed in them by apparently sane, normal human beings.&#13;
Nations have their whims and peculiarities, as have individuals. Whole communities suddenly fix their minds on one object and go mad inits pursuit. Millions of people become possessed simultaneously with one delusion and run after it until their attention is caught by some new folly more captivating than the first. One country is suddenly seized with a fierce desire for military glory, while another as suddenly becomes crazed by a religious scruple. Once the population of Europe lost its wits about the sepulchre of Jesus, and crowded in frenzied multitudes to the Holy Land. Another age went mad for fear of the devil, and offered up hundreds of thousands of victims to the delusion of witchcraft.&#13;
An epidemic terror of the end of the world has several times spread over the nations, and the singular part of it all is that each new prophet is able to reach the ears of a multitude of hearers and believers, even to-day. The most remarkable instance of this kind oc- curred at the end of the TenthCertury. Fana- tics appeared in France, Germany, and Italy at the same time, preaching that the one thousand years prophesied in the Apocalypse as the term of the world’s duration was about to expire. In the year 999 the number of pilgrims proceeding to Jerusalem, which was expected to be the scene of the Last Judgment, was so great that they were compared to a deserting army. Knights, citizens, and serfs travelled eastward in company, taking with them their wives and children and singing psalms as they went. Buildings of every sort were suffered to fall into ruin, as it was thought useless to repair them when the end of the world was so near.&#13;
We smile at these old-time credulities, little realizing that the centuries to come will&#13;
Floyd W. Parsons&#13;
pity and sympathize with us in like degree for our own ignorance. We have nearly as many delusions to-day as had our ancestors, and there is far less excuse for them because of the progress made by science in the last century. We have delusions about health and about disease; about God and about religions; about work and about play; about society and about social customs; about our- selves and about one another. In fact, we have delusions -about anything and every- thing which comes within the bounds of human cognizance.&#13;
We are possessed of monetary, banking, and business fallacies. Perhaps our most destructive delusion is the common belief in the validity of the business-cycle idea. Most of us hold the notion that every period of prosperity must be followed by a like period of depression, and that good times cannot be permanent. The truth is that there are no fixed or proved laws, rules, or principles that govern the fluctuations in our industrial life.&#13;
All of this teaches us, first, that we are not nearly so wise as we think we are, and second, that it is perfectly proper and legitimate for us to question not only all current concep- tions, but even to protest against many of the exaggerated claims of our scientists. Only through cultivating a spirit of moderate scepticism and constructive criticism, can we avoid being carried by a natural reaction to the opposite extreme of mysticism, spiritual- ism, and plain charlatanry.&#13;
“There was a door to which | found no key,” sang Omar. At the present time there are many such doors, and the reason there are no keys for them is because they are with- out locks. The truth is that all we have to do is to “open these doors,”’ and “keep them open.” We make mysteries of a multitude of matters that would yield easily and quickly to experimentation. It is for this reason that we must place our chief hope in the progress of science—the one relentless enemy of mystery. The day of fakers and fallacies will quickly end when we refuse longer to take things for granted and insist on having the substance of fact instead of the shadow.&#13;
 &#13;
| i i a ee&#13;
THE SIGN OF THE KU KLUX KLAN&#13;
The “‘fiery cross” has been adopted by the Klan as its “‘sign’’ This idea, together with most of the others that make up the order, was adopted bodily from that other and more original order from which the present organization got its name. This particular “fiery cross” is made up of Klansmen holding electric lights—evidently a bit of showy display&#13;
Ancestry and End of the&#13;
Ku Klux Klan&#13;
Its Forebears, the Know-Nothing Party and the “A. P. A.” No True&#13;
Descent From the Original Klan.&#13;
Its Probable Course and End&#13;
By ROBERT L. DUFFUS&#13;
“The liberties of a people are never more certainly in the path of destruction than when they trust themselves to the guidance of secret societies. Birds of the night are never birds of widsom. One of them, indeed, received this name, but it was not from bis look and not from his moral and intellec- tual qualities. They are for the most part birds of prey. The fate of a republic is sealed when&#13;
bats take the place of eagles.” —JositaH QUINCY.&#13;
ALPARAISO, Indiana, seat of the once well-advertised Valparaiso University, is one of those tranquil Mid-Western cities, ‘with well- kept, tree-shaded streets, comfor- table houses set well back across green lawns, and a general air of civic pride and content- ment, which are the despair of the modern school of fiction writers and the habitat of much that gives American life its particular color and flavor. Valparaiso is Main Street&#13;
softened and mellowed by an additional generation or two of settlement. It is not one city, but a thousand. What could hap- pen there might happen anywhere in the Middle West.&#13;
Last May the Ku Klux Klan, having cal- culated its strength, chose Valparaiso as the scene of one of its largest demonstrations, and as perhaps the first in which the Klan mask was dropped, and an opportunity given the public to see what Klansmen in the mass&#13;
 &#13;
528&#13;
looked like. This event was announced in Klan publications sold on the streets in Chicago and other cities.&#13;
“Fifty thousand Knights of “The Invisible Empire’, it was proclaimed, “are expected to attend in full regalia. The meet will resemble the tournaments of old England, when Knights of another age met for sport, merrymaking, good fellowship, and oppor- tunity to try lances with, or to pay respects to, nobles from distant parts. The committees in charge invite every one hundred per cent. American, whether a Klansman or not, to attend the great demonstration.”&#13;
The writer accepted the invitation, and although he did not possess the passwords which entitled the pure and faithful to enter the Valparaiso fair grounds, on which the secret portions of the programme were carried out, he had the opportunity to inspect a throng of Klansmen, nearly all unmasked, estimated by Klan organs at 25,000, and by other observers at from 10,000 to 20,000. This was probably the first large-scale ap- pearance of Klansmen without masks, and it was a most enlightening one for innocent bystanders interested in the personnel of the organization.&#13;
Had it not been for a sprinkling of robed Klansmen (looking more or less uncomfortable and absurd in the sunlight) at the railway stations, at street corners, in automobiles, and at the guarded entrances to the fair grounds, a casual visitor might have mistaken this solemn occasion for a political rally, a county fair, a Fourth of July festival, or a circus. Except for badges and banners des- ignating each successive delegation as it marched up from the train, and the pennants which decorated the automobiles, there was little about the visitors which proclaimed them members of an order which has made more extravagant claims, aroused greater hysteria among its opponents, and produced more gray hairs among politicians than any similar phenomenon since the collapse of the Know-Nothing party nearly seventy years ago.&#13;
A closer inspection afforded opportunity for making, or rather for confirming, certain generalizations. The rank and file of the Klan at Valparaiso were sharply divided into city members and country members. The farmers, who arrived in automobiles, usually with their families, would have seemed per-&#13;
Robert .L. Duffus&#13;
fectly at home eleven years ago in a Pro- gressive party rally—bronzed, homely, good- natured persons who might have been selected at random from the farming populations of Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, Kansas, or Nebraska. No group of men, seemingly, could be further from the savageries of which the Ku Klux Klan has been guilty in Louisiana, Texas, Florida, Tennessee, and Oklahoma, and it was a little difficult to believe that they were taking seriously the mummery they had come to witness. A more striking evidence of the Klan’s ability to be—or seem—all things to all men could not have been found. I am speaking, of course, of the rank and file. A hard-faced leadership was manifestly on the job marshalling the flocks.&#13;
The delegations from Chicago, who wore badges and carried banners proclaiming their home city, were of a different, and if this writer's observation of them can be trusted, an inferior type. Certainly they were not the “average American citizens, home owners, voters, and folk relied upon in the communi- ties from which they came” which one Klan paper described them as being. Most of them could be classified as belonging to the less successful strata of the “white collar’ class. They did not represent organized labor, which except in Kansas and in parts of Texas, has fought shy of the Klan, nor did they include, apparently, many members of unorganized manual laboring groups. They might have been small store-keepers, corpora- tion employees, clerks, and clingers to the edges of the professions, with perhaps a sprinkling of more influential personages. This is not said by way of disparagement, but rather to throw light on the nature of the Klan’s appeal. The one generalization which could be applied, as | believe, to the Val- paraiso celebrators was that they had social or personal grievances. This was a parade of Americanism gone a little sour. The im- pression was strengthened by conversations with a number of Klansmen and Klan sympa- thizers. Behind the fringe of shrewd pro- moters, “salesmen of hate,” politicians, addicts of hocus pocus, skylarkers, and boot- leggers who have earned the Klan a deserved odium, is a residue of earnest and aimless dis- content.&#13;
This discontent, as | think it will be worth while taking a little space to show, is no new thing in American history. Individually it is&#13;
 &#13;
Ancestry and End of the Ku Klux Klan&#13;
THESE ARE NOT “THIN AIRY SHOALS OF VISIONARY GHOSTS” They are instead publicity hunting members of the Ku Klux Klan marching with flares lighting up their long white robes and tapering mask-hung hoods&#13;
the result of personal misfortune or dis- appointment for which the sufferer is driven to seek causes outside himself. Socially it isa natural result of a period of unrest, uncer- tainty, and hard times, such as always goes with a great war. Well directed it might merge in an intelligent progressive movement. When selfishly exploited, as the Ku Klux Klan and its predecessors have exploited it, it may become fantastic, bigoted, and repellent. Specifically, in American history, it has often taken the destructive and futile form of opposition to the foreigner, and especially to the Roman Catholic church, which over and over again has been made the scapegoat for everything alien. | shall briefly sketch some of its past manifestations.&#13;
When the Revolutionary General Knox organized the Society of the Cincinnati, in April, 1783, it was bitterly denounced, not only because its object was believed to be to create an order of nobility, but also, as poor&#13;
Knox wrote to Washington, because people believed it had been “created by a foreign influence in order to change our form of&#13;
government.” A _ little later the foreign influence in America became radically demo- cratic instead of aristocratic, and the so- called “Democratic societies’ of 1794 were damned by President Adams as being the cause of domestic rebellion and of the in- troduction of un-American ideas. The Alien Act of 1798 was aimed at the supposedly dangerous influence of foreigners for exactly the same reasons which buttressed the war legislation of 1917, and because of the same philosophy which has agitated in our own times such of the members of the Ku Klux Klan as have happened to be both intelligent and honest.&#13;
“Native Americanism,” recognized as such, made its appearance as early as 1817. Its spirit was well expressed in an editorial which Professor McMaster paraphrases from a&#13;
 &#13;
5 30 Robert L. Duffus&#13;
newspaper of 1823: “When we look at the population in some parts of our country and see mingled with it the dregs of all nations when we are told that half a million Irishmen have left their own country to live in ours, when we behold them linked together by the church and their love of Erin, we are moved to declare that the character of our country is degraded by the contact, and our liberties and our government threatened by the admission of a population without education, and without attachment to the community they have been forced to adopt. It is time to stop making citizens of subjects of European governments.”&#13;
The, hey-day of the first well-organized anti- foreign and anti-Catholic agitation came in the early thirties, when Irish laborers were doing yeoman service in the construction of the first railways, and incidentally arousing ill-will of many natives by their turbulence, their religious faith, and their general foreign- ness: and when there was also an outcry against what many Americans believed to be the deliberate policy of Great Britain in dumping criminals and paupers on our shores. In 1834 there were serious anti-Catholic riots in Philadelphia, Trenton, Rochester, Lancas- ter, and other cities. At Charleston, Mass., in August, 1834, a mob sacked and burned the Ursuline convent. “Maria Monk” and other “escaped nuns’ told stories of gross ill-treat- ment, and “converted priests” lectured on the iniquities of Rome, exactly as they do to-day under the auspices of the Ku Klux and other anti-Catholic organizations. In 1834 Samuel F. B. Morse took time from his fruitful re- searches with the magnetic telegraph to write a series of newspaper articles, afterward published as a book, which he signed “ Bru- tus’’ and entitled “The Foreign Conspiracy against the United States.”&#13;
In 1835 there were native American tickets in New York and New Orleans, both cities of large alien populations, and in the same year the National American Democratic Association adopted as a plank in its platform the resolution to “elevate no person of foreign birth to any office of honor, trust, or profit in the United States.” The panic of 1837, together with the continuance of the great Irish migration, did not diminish the strength of the movement, and it grew steadily during the late ‘thirties and early ‘forties. The Catholics fought these attacks as best they&#13;
could. On only one occasion, however (this instance is vouched for by Humphrey J. Desmond in his excellent monograph on the Know Nothing party) did they actually put a Catholic ticket in the field. This was the municipal election of 1841 in New York City, in which the Catholic ticket secured 2,200 votes out of the metropolitan total of 35,000. Three years later the Native Americans triumphantly elected James Harper, of the publishing house of Harper &amp; Brothers, as mayor. The same. year, 1844, saw anti- Catholic riots in Philadelphia, and a re-open- ing of the public school question as it affected Catholics. This issue has never been allowed to die out since that date; it is among the fundamentals of the Ku Klux Klan, who are prepared to insist both on the abolition of parochial and private schools (as they did in Oregon) and on the compulsory reading of the Bible.&#13;
The Mexican War, with its awakening of new national conceptions, temporarily drew attention away from the anti-foreign clamor, but agitation by such societies as the Sons of America, the American Protestant Associa- tion, the Order of United Americans, the Order of United American Mechanics, and the Order of the Star-Spangled Banner (titles which are sufficiently explanatory) continued. Out of one or the other of these secret socie- ties grew the Know Nothing party, which took its name from the fact that its members, like the modern Ku Klux Klan, were given to feigning ignorance when questioned about it.&#13;
“The Know Nothings,” wrote one editor in December, 1853, “are an off-shoot of the Order of United Americans. By the consti- tution of the latter, politics are excluded from their proceedings. In order to evade this rule, and to become more effective in political movements, members of the body formed an outside secret association, calling themselves Know Nothings. The principles of their constitution are directly hostile to all Catho- lics, and they pledge themselves to vote for no man who is not an American of three generations.” The members, according to McMaster, “recognized one another by signs, grips, passwords, signals of distress, test questions, and rallying cries’—all of which brings us back to the Ku Klux Klan.&#13;
Like the Klan, the Know Nothings did their political work surreptitiously; indeed,&#13;
 &#13;
Ancestry and End of the Ku Klux Klan 531&#13;
accounts of their manoeuvres might be used, saw with dread the steady stream of immigra- word for word, to describe what the Klan is tions that munth after month came to our doing at this moment in any one of a dozen _ shores, all found in the Know Nothing creed&#13;
states. In many cases they elected candidates actually not known to be running, or caused the defeat of candi- dates against whom there had been no open opposi- tion. Working within the Whig party in the North they scratched the name of every alien and every Cath- olic from the ballots. In 1854 they elected mayors of Washington, Philadelphia, New York city, and Norfolk, and had minor successes elsewhere. By 1856 the order was estimated to num- ber as many as a million and a quarter voters, all of whom, as the saying went, had been brought “into the august presence of Sam.” There were several degrees, as there are in the Klan, and the secrets of the higher were carefully kept away from members of the lower. This machine was powerful enough to elect at least five United States Senators and twenty-three Congressmen, besides winning numerous local successes.&#13;
“Sincere and honest men became Know Nothings,” to quote again from Pro- fessor McMaster’s monu- mental history, “in hope that the party might really find a remedy for the intol- erable evils of the ignorant foreign vote. Politicians great and small, who once labored under the old Whig banner and now beheld that party in ruins, gladly cast their lot with what seemed&#13;
something entitled to their support.” But he adds: “Racial hatred played its part in furnishing recruits; yet, withal, the movement was the work of politicians and in no sense a great pop- ular uprising to reform real abuses and correct serious wrongs.” Here again the parallel with the Klan is strikingly close.&#13;
The fabricated issues of the Know Nothings were blasted, as those of the Klan are likely to be, by the rise of a real and unavoidable issue—in the Know Nothing case, the question of the ex- tension of slavery. In 1855 they were strong enough to carry Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, to elect a number of officials in New York, to elect governors in Kentucky and California and a legislature in Mary- land, and to put up a close fight in Texas, Virginia, Louisiana, Georgia, and Mississippi. Next year came the beginning of the end. Millard Fillmore, who received the Know Nothing backing, ran far behind the Republican candidates in popular vote and received&#13;
iS THIS ‘gpa: A POSE? only eight electoral votes. No doubt many—protably postal the Buchanan was elected presi- real reverence for the flag, but their at- dent on a platform which&#13;
tempts to form an extra-legal force with declared boldly:“A political which to influence public officials and : os hese private citizens, and to oppose those crusade in the Nineteenth&#13;
whose religion or ancestry is not to their Century and in the United liking, is un-American and opposed tothe States against Catholics and very first principle for which the flag ‘ : : stands foreign born is neither&#13;
justified by past history&#13;
to be the party of the future. Patriots who nor future prospects of the country, nor really believed American institutions were in unison with the spirit of toleration and threatened by what they called the insidious enlightened freedom which peculiarly dis- wiles of foreign influence, old Nativists who tinguishes the American system of popula- held that Americans should rule America and government.” In this election the party&#13;
 &#13;
5 32&#13;
cast about one seventh of the votes in the North and about three sevenths of those in the South. Its strength in the South was due in part to the well-founded fear of Southerners that immigration would give the North disproportionate weight in the impending political or military conflict. Naturally, the Know Nothings aroused the opposition of Northern liberals. “One might as well study optics in the pyramids of Egypt, or the subterranean tombs of Rome,” de- clared Henry Ward Beecher, “as liberty in secret conclaves controlled by hoary knaves versed in political intrigue, who can hardly enough express their surprise and delight to see honest men going into a wide-spread system of secret caucuses. Honest men in such places have the peculiar advantage that flies have in a spider’s web—the privilege of losing their legs, of buzzing without flying, and being eaten up at leisure by big-bellied spiders.‘ ‘There was a lodge near me,” General Grant wrote apologetically in his memoirs, “and I was invited to join it. | accepted the invitiation, was initiated, and attended a meeting just one week later; and never went to another afterward.” General&#13;
Scott devoted a considerable portion of his unsuccessful presidential campaign to apolo-&#13;
gizing for a reported earlier affiliation with the Know Nothings and to expressing his pro- found admiration for all foreigners who hap- pened to have votes. Horace Greeley, in phrases which have not altogether lost their flavor, said that the party “would seem as devoid of the elements of persistence as an anti-cholera or anti-potato-rot party’—al- luding, doubtless, to the calamities which were mainly responsible for the Irish immigration. “The Native American or so-called Know Nothing party,” wrote Lord Bryce, many years later, “had, in two years from its foundations, become a tremendous power, rising and seeming likely, for a time, to carry its own Presidential candidate. In three years it was dead without a hope of revival.”&#13;
Disowned by the Republicans, distrusted by the Southern Democrats, tolerated at last only in the border states, the party disap- peared in the maelstrom of war, suffering splits and schisms, and enduring at last only in the degraded form of such bands of ruffians as the “Tigers,” “Black Snakes,” “Rip Raps,” “Blood Tubs,” and “Plug Uglies” which terrorized Baltimore and other cities.&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
The last formal meeting of the Know Nothing party was held in a small room in 1866. A subsidiary organization, the Order of the American Shield, lasted until 1866, and the&#13;
‘United Order of American Mechanics, the&#13;
Junior Order of American Mechanics, and the Patriotic Order of the Sons of America, all of them sympathetic with Know-Nothingism, still show signs of life. The Junior Order of American Mechanics, which has a number of chapters in the South, is generally considered a close ally of the Ku Klux Klan.&#13;
Although the anti-Catholic and anti-foreign spirit survived in this way and manifested it- self from time to time, the next great move- ment embodying it was the American Pro- tective Association, organized by Henry F. Bowers, a sixty-year-old lawyer of Clinton, Iowa, on March 13, 1887. This order, like the one formed later by Colonel Simmons of Atlanta, grew slowly at first. In 1893, five years after the founding, it had no more than 70,000 members. But hard times gave it an impetus, as they had to its predecessors, and in 1896 it probably had as many as a million members, and was said by sympathizers not too scrupulous about their mathematics, to number two and a half millions.&#13;
The A. P. A. lodges possessed a ritual some- what similar to that of the Know Nothings, had secret degrees within the order, and im- posed terrific oaths binding members not to vote for or patronize Catholics. Again the “escaped nuns” and “converted priests” made their appearance. Again wild rumors were circulated regarding the fiendish designs of the Catholics against the Protestant popu- lation. A false encyclical of Pope Leo XIII, similar in purport to the false Knights of Columbus oath which has been industriously distributed by the Ku Klux Klan, was: said to absolve Catholics from their allegiance to the American government and make it “the duty of the faithful to exterminate all heretics found within the jurisdiction of the United States of America.”&#13;
The A. P.A. wasstrong ineastern Michigan, northern Ohio, northern and central Illinois, lowa, northern Missouri, and eastern Kan- sas and Nebraska. But the reaction came almost as soon as its full strength was devel- oped: it was snubbed by both major parties in the election of 1896, and disappeared al- most immediately as an active political factor The truth probably was that by 1896 and&#13;
 &#13;
ve.&#13;
—- &amp; ww mw CO eh&#13;
Oe&#13;
Ancestry and End @f the Ku Klux Klan&#13;
later, national politicians had more to lose by es- tranging the Catholic and foreign vote than could be gained by accepting the windy tenets of “ Na- tive Americanism.” An interesting phase of the A. P. A. movement was that. large numbers of Germans and Scandinav- ians, naturally of Protes- tant sympathies, were either-members or allies. It was, of course, more anti-Catholic than anti- foreign.&#13;
Few, it seems to me, can reflect upon the facts which | have endeavored to summarize without perceiving that the mod- ern Ku Klux Klan is di- rectly descended, not ‘rom the post-bellum organization of the same name, but from the A. P. A., the Know Nothings, the Wide Awakes (a “junior order” which ter- rorized New York city in the ’fifties), and the Na- tive Americans. Its dif- ferences are inconsider- able, its likenesses all-&#13;
 &#13;
THE MUMMERY OF A KLAN INITIATION Clever salesmen have not found it difficult to sell memberships in the Klan. Ten&#13;
important. If it has _ dollars, the fee required, is not so much as to frighten any one away, and the osten- added the Jews to its ob- sible purposes of the Klan are, at least in part, so high that those eligibles who are&#13;
jectsof hatred, it has done so in the spirit of the earlier movements. Nevertheless, a word or two with regard to the real Ku Klux Klan may not be out of place, especially as the spurious Klan pre-&#13;
tends to be descended from it. The original ©&#13;
Ku Klux Klan was organized at Pulaski, Tenn., in May, 1866. At first the pastime of a few restless young men, most of them veterans of the Confederate army, it found its hocus pocus, undertaken in fun, begin- ning to be taken seriously. Before long its usefulness in achieving secretly what the Federal troops of occupation would not allow to be done publicly, was perceived, and local branches sprang up throughout the South. Later the Knights of the White&#13;
approached are quickly interested. Many ‘‘members’’, however, have never done more than pay the initial ten dollars, although after several years, despite their lack of activity, they are still being carried as “active members”&#13;
Camelia (from which the “ Kamelia,” one of the woman’s auxiliaries of the modern Klan derives its name) attained importance in the Black Belt, leaving the northerly tier of states to the Ku Klux; and other organizations followed in different localities. The Ku Klux Klan, therefore, came to stand for an extensive movement, not highly centralized, which had for its object the maintenance of white supremacy in the old slave-holding states. In this purpose it may fairly be said to have succeeded. Naturally it came into conflict with the Federal authorities, was the subject of a Congressional investigation, and was finally outlawed. But before this last&#13;
 &#13;
5 34&#13;
act had taken place the original Ku Klux Klan, of which the Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest was Grand Wizard, was Officially disbanded by its head and founders. This voluntary dissolution took place, first because the immediate emergency had passed, and second because the name and disguise of the order had been abused by per- sons who were merely predatory and un- scrupulous.&#13;
The order of dissolution, according to J. C. Lester and D. L. Wilson, members and founders, who published a volume on the history of the Klan, was issued on February 20, 1869—less than three years after the first meeting. Where this order was pro- mulgated, they testify, “obedience to it was prompt and implicit. Whether obeyed or not this proclamation terminated the Klan’s organized existence as decisively and com- pletely as General Lee’s last general order on the morning of the 1oth of April, 1865, disbanded the Army of Northern Virginia. The Klan had no organized existence after March 1, 1865. Thus lived, so died, this strange order. Its birth was an accident, its growth was a comedy, its death a tragedy. There never was, before&#13;
or since, a period of our history when such an ©&#13;
order could have lived. May there never be again!”&#13;
By Southerners the Klan is generally given credit for rescuing the South from a condition of anarchy, and for preventing the white civilization from being submerbed by its late slaves. But most Southerners look upon it as a movement which had a single specific purpose and which ended, as it should have ended, as soon as it had done all it could to accomplish that purpose. | am not passing judgment upon this view. It is of present importance only because it demonstrates the utter lack of a connection between the past and the present, the real and the imitation.&#13;
One or two members of the original Klan are members of the present Klan. When Colonel Simmons was concocting his ritual, he lifted, with slight alterations, whole passages from the Klan ritual as made public in 1868. He did this for the first paragraph of his “ Kreed,”’ omitting an obsolete reference to the Federal Government; he did it with section 3 of Article II, in which the objects of the Klan are stated as follows: “This order is an institution of chivalry, humanity, justice,&#13;
Robert L. Duffus &amp; a, ~&#13;
and patriotism, embodying in its genius and principles all that is chivalric in conduct, noble in sentiment, generous in manhood, and patriotic in purpose.” This is taken verbatim from the old Klan prescript, except that Colonel Simmons, for reasons best known to himself, has substituted the word “justice” for the “mercy” of the original document. For good measure the Colonel also lifted the old Klan motto, “Quod sem- per, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus,” which may or may not originally have had a mean- ing. But these pickings and stealings from the old Klan are important only because they are part of the system of charlatanry by which the Twentieth Century model of the Know Nothing movement was sold to a gullible public.&#13;
In taking leave of this subject the writer regretfully sets aside a mass of material, growing every day, which bears upon the present activities of the Klan. In Texas and Oklahoma, for instance, it is still an actual menace to law and order. | have on my desk a letter from an attorney of Fort Worth, in which the writer says: “We have almost a complete state of anarchy in this state at this time, and the worst of it is that the offi- cers of the law seem to be either afraid of these fellows or are members of the infamous outfit themselves.” An enclosed clipping relates the killing of Otto Lange and the wounding of the Lange baby at Somerville, Burleson County, by masked men who forced themselves into the house. Acting Governor Davidson took this affair seriously enough to call it “an open defiance of the state and a deliberate plot to overthrow its laws’’—thus going a little farther than his lukewarm chief, Governor Neff, whose policy it has been to sit tight and say nothing. Since January, 1921, there have been, according to the San Antonio Express, 21 lynchings in Texas; and this estimate does not include such lesser outrages as the whippings at Goose Creek, near Houston, and other breaches of the peace which have occurred in every community in which the Klan is powerful. If the Klan is not to blame for lynchings it has at least done nothing to diminish their frequency, for they have increased greatly since the organiza- tion came to Texas. Oklahoma has a similar story to tell, and Governor Walton was re- cently moved to declare martial law in Okmulgee County, although, he stated, the&#13;
 &#13;
wT&#13;
ea NA FRI Vw SS»&#13;
Ancestry and End of the Ku Klux Klan&#13;
 &#13;
‘gt Ler «i » ag te . 4 * ae a t 4b. the re hi wie A&#13;
A WOODLAND MEETING OF THE KLAN&#13;
Onc wonders how many such “‘secret”’ meetings in the woods are held without some carefully staged publicity resulting&#13;
from them. This photograph, which apparently originated with the Klan’s publicity department, was accompanied&#13;
by a caption reading as follows: ‘“‘ Devotional exercises of a Klan, the Kludd, or minister of the Klan, offering a prayer.&#13;
The opening of the circle is in anticipation of the coming of a high official, after whose arrival the circle again will be closed”’&#13;
act was not “aimed at any organization, but at the elements that are taking the law into their own hands.” But in Oklahoma “ele- ments that are taking the law into their own hands,” is merely a synonym for Ku Klux Klan.&#13;
In the North, as I have pointed out in a previous article of this series, the Klan has not generally been guilty of provable violence. Yet it is not over-eager to obey laws of which it disapproves. An act passed by the last legislature of the staté of New York makes it mandatory for “every existing membership corporation and every existing unincorpor- ated association having a membership of twenty or more persons, which corporation requires an oath as a prerequisite or condition of membership” to file lists of its members. Following the passage of this law the Klan filed a certificate of incorporation as a “ bene- volent fraternal society,” and by this and other devices seems to have evaded compliance.&#13;
In doing this it may not have overstepped legality, but neither has it shown much enthusiasm for the plain intent of the state’s law-making body. In the meantime it is busy consolidating its position in the neigh- borhood of New York City, especially on Long Island and in New Jersey, where it has conducted vigorous and adroitly advertised campaigns for members. Although there have been clashes between the Klan and its opponents in several suburban communities, it has not been clear that the Klan was in- variably the aggressor. In fact, its conduct in the metropolitan neighborhood has been as exemplary as that of such an organization well could be; or | might say more accurately that it has created dissension, broken up old friendships, and set communities by the ears without demonstrable violations of law.&#13;
In conclusion I must set down a number of opinions which will have to be verified by time. The Klan may be expected to figure in&#13;
 &#13;
536&#13;
the election of 1924 as the Know Nothings figured in 1852 and 1854 and as the A. P. A figured—or rather attempted to figure—in 1896. It is working behind the scenes and on the backstairs in both parties, and in close voting will greatly influence the choice of candidates both North and South. In the improbable event of Mr. Ford’s nomination the Klan will throwmany votes hisway. But, except in isolated communities, chiefly in the South, it will carry no important candidates of its own choosing. There is not a state north of the Mason and Dixon line in which an open Klan endorsement would not prove fatal in a state or national election, although in some states—in Indiana, certainly—an open re- pudiation of the Klan would be almost equally dangerous. The order will remain a negative and disturbing force, helping, it may be, to hasten the decline of the existing parties, but not contributing a single constructive ele- ment toward the erection of new ones. By the end of 1924, | am willing to predict, it will be a punctured bubble.&#13;
The sources of its disruption will be found within as well as without the organization. Almost from the beginning, as readers of these articles may remember, there have been rivalries and jealousies in the Klan ranks. At the present writing Colonel Simmons, founder of the order, is in retirement and at sword’s points with the Imperial Wizard, Dr. Hiram W. Evans; Edgar Young Clarke, chief instrument of the Klan’s first commer- cial successes, is. in retirement, in parts un- known, owing possibly to a white slave in- dictment; and there is bitter opposition to Evans, among Klan members as well as among those who have withdrawn. Charges of financial irregularity among both the sub- ordinate and the higher officers are constantly cropping up. An attempt to press these charges may at any time anticipate the natural processes of dissolution and destroy the central organization. This possibility has been strengthened by the revelations of&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
the Kansas ouster suit, and by the constant pressure being brought to bear by such down- right enemies of the Klan as the American Unity League of Chicago. Not all the Klan’s opponents are purely disinterested and not all of them are fighting it wisely (some, indeed, employ too many of its own methods to suit a fastidious taste), but an active and vigilant hostility is breeding in every com- munity where aliens, Catholics, or Jews are present in considerable numbers, or where the conscience of the native American is sufficiently aroused.&#13;
As in the past the anti-alien and anti- Catholic movement must fail for lack of material on which to feed. Pushed originally by sordid adventurers for purposes of gain, taken over by equally sordid politicians, utilized by law breakers, fanatics, meddlers, and “plug uglies,” it will find no permanent function in American life. With the rise of new issues, possibly with the formation of new parties, it must weaken and disappear. 1 believe that the great majority of its honest dupes will find within a year or two a better way of realizing such of their hopes and aspira- tions as are both legitimate and intelligent, and that the cessation of immigration, with an increasing demand for labor, will lead generally to greater toleration and apprecia- tion in the popular American attitude toward the stranger within our gates. There never was in our history less excuse for an anti- alien movement or for religious bigotry. And if the Ku Klux Klan turns in upon itself and sets out to enforce its peculiar notions of the moral law upon native Americans, to carry the mean gossip and scandal of decadent small towns into national affairs, its downfall will be accelerated.&#13;
Thesolution in the long run will befurnished by the common sense of common Americans, including many who have been induced by lies and misrepresentations to join a secret organi- zation whose secrecy adds, not to its power for good, but solely to its power for evil.&#13;
 &#13;
CAN AMERICA HELP?&#13;
Some of the Prominent Americans Who Have Visited Europe and What Europe’s Problems and Europe’s Future&#13;
Some of Them Have Learned.&#13;
By. MARK&#13;
O AN American who spent any&#13;
part of last spring and summer&#13;
in Europe, there was more than&#13;
mere casual interest—there was a&#13;
striking significance—in the extra- ordinary number of public men from the United States whom one ran across in London, Paris, Berlin, or elsewhere. There was a member of the Supreme Court of the United States, Justice Sutherland; and another mem- ber recently resigned, Ex-Justice Clarke, now devoting his time to an almost Evangelical advocacy of the League of Nations. There were two members of the Cabinet, Mr. Mel- lon of the Treasury and Mr. Davis of the Department of Labor. (In addition to these, there were at least two former Cabinet mem- bers, Ex-Secretary Fall of Mr. Harding's Cabinet and Ex-Secretary of State Colby of Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet).&#13;
Of the United States Senate there were eighteen, almost a fifth of the entire member- ship. They included at least one Presiden- tial possibility, Senator Oscar Underwood of Alabama; and another who, due to the sud- den death of President Harding, has become a Presidential possibility, Senator Hiram John- son of California. Among the others were Sen- ators Moses of New Hampshire, David Walsh of Massachusetts, Edge of New Jersey, Stan- ley of Kentucky, McCormick of Illinois, Wheeler of Montana, Brookhart of lowa, Spencer of Missouri, and Smoot of Utah. Of members of the Lower House, there were such well known ones as Longworth of Ohio and Porter of Pennsylvania.&#13;
In another class of public officials were Eugene Meyer, Jr., Chairman of the War Finance Corporation; Solicitor-General James M. Beck, and Assistant Secretary of the Treas- ury Eliot Wadsworth. In addition to these there was a host of men recently in public life, or otherwise actively identified with public affairs in America, such as Ex-Senator Hitch- cock of Nebraska, Ex-Senator Frelinghuysen&#13;
SULLIVAN&#13;
= a&#13;
of New Jersey, former Chairman Lasker of the Shipping Board, Ex-Congressman Copley of Illinois, Bernard M. Baruch, Chairman John Adams of the Republican National Com- mittee, Ex-Chairman Homer Cummings of the Democratic National Committee, Adolph S. Ochs of the New York Times, Cyrus K. Curtis of the Philadelphia Ledger, President ‘Nich- olas Murray Butler of Columbia University, former Ambassador to Great Britain, John W. Davis, Ex-Senator Clarence Watson of Virginia.&#13;
Now if this were a mere catalogue of promi- nent Americans who spent a summer vacation in Europe, it would belong in some other sort of periodical than the WorLp’s Work. Its pertinence here lies in the fact that of the men named, and of many others not named, none were in Europe for vacation purposes merely. A few had their families with them and gave a portion of their time to conventional sight- seeing. But the main purpose with all of them—and, as to several whom the writer ran across, the whole purpose—was one aspect or another of the public affairs of the United States. Chiefly it was to acquire information about the present state of Europe, and ma- terials for judgment as to what America can do, or ought to do, in the field which we call broadly our foreign relations.&#13;
During this period, the writer, also, was in Europe, and with a purpose roughly identical with the others. The curiosity of the writer, as well as of most of the public men who will have a personal or party stake in the situa- tion, was to see just what form the foreign relations issue can take next year.&#13;
It was largely the anticipation of these fac- tors of the American political situation next year, and the consciousness that one version or another of the present facts about Europe will form the bulk of a great mass of political discussion—it was this that sent us hustling about from capital to capital, talking to scores of the men in responsible office, to&#13;
 &#13;
       &#13;
     &#13;
editors, military men, labor leaders, bankers, and business men.&#13;
Perhaps as good a way as any, for one who participated in all this, to transfer some of his impressions to millions of other Americans who share the curiosity about Europe and America’s relation to it, is to set down some of the more important of his notes, in an order as disjointed as they arose.&#13;
I begin with Ireland, although that was not on the beat of most of the other Americans mentioned, and although its circumstances set it largely apart from the European situa- tion as it figures in American politics. 1 be- gin with Ireland partly because that is where | spent the first week, and partly because | got there a feeling of optimism which, al- though it was not wholly duplicated anywhere else in Europe, yet had as the chief of its causes, the return of the farmer to peace and work, which condition is duplicated in several other of the rural parts of Europe, and con- stitutes the most chtering single fact through-&#13;
Sullivan&#13;
THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY, IRELAND&#13;
The civil war in Ireland, says Mr. Sullivan, stopped when the Irish farmers became more interested in crops than in fighting.&#13;
    &#13;
In Ireland, as on the continent of Europe, the farmers are improving their conditions (although perhaps slowly) while the cities show fewer signs of regeneration&#13;
out all Europe. In Ireland, the heart went out of the fighting almost overnight. It went out because the farmers, who were the backbone of it, just plainly got tired of the fighting and the mess and inconvenience of civil war. It was spring, and the call of the sod was in the air. The farmers felt the lure of it. They wanted to go to plowing and raise a crop. They had composed the bulk of the support of the opposition to the Free State, their sons had been the fighting men, and the farmers had provided sympathy, refuge, and sustenance. When they lost interest, the fighting collapsed, and within a day Ireland was an island of peace, intent upon the plough. To see it happen made you think of another April day when fighting ceased, and recalled one of the most pregnant of those familiar stories and aphorisms with which men of wit and insight have epitomized the atmosphere of many phases of American history. In 1889, the editor of an Atlanta newspaper, Henry W. Grady, made himself a&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Can America Help?&#13;
national figure through a single brief speech. He had been invited to address the New England Society in New York, and he determined to take advantage of the occasion to carry from the South a message of recon- ciliation. He did it with humor, and not too much emphasis on sentiment, economics, or statistics; the time was ripe for it, and the happy conjunction of the hour and the man marked a turning point in American history. The atmosphere of the speech, which in- fected the state of mind of the whole country, and changed it from the rancorous recollection of war to a humorous and tolerant geniality— the atmosphere of the story rested largely on one brief story that Grady told, a mere quota- tion of the remark of a Southern soldier as General Lee announced the end of the fight- ing to his army gathered at Appomatox on a soft April day when the immemorial summons of spring was in the air: “ Well, anyhow,”’ said this philosopher among the private soldiers, “1 killed more of them than they killed of&#13;
5 39&#13;
me; I’m goin’ to go home and get out my plow and raise me a crop.”’&#13;
That story is relevant to the present state of Europe in two widely different ways. It is a fact throughout Europe that wherever the prevailing occupation is agriculture, the far- mer has turned to the plough and in the ag- gregate seems to be pulling Europe a little way out of the swamp. Everywhere, the farmer has added a cow or two to his herd, a horse to his stable, a few sheep to his flock. By that much—and in the aggregate it is considerable—Europe is “coming back.” But one is obliged to add that this is one of very few respects in which Europe is visibly re- covering.&#13;
The other respect in which Henry W. Crady’s story is relevant to the present state of Europe is, unhappily, by contrast. Europe has by no means reached that state of mind of humorously genial reconciliation which Grady’s story reflected; far from it. On the contrary, rancor and hate are fully as malev-&#13;
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ARE THE FARMS THE BACKBONE OF EUROPE?&#13;
This Austrian scene, according to Mr. Sullivan, is typical of the force that all over Europe is doing the most to re- build the damaged economic system. Everywhere farms are showing signs of improvement, and, in the aggregate, the improvement is great. But in the cities there is less to cause optimism&#13;
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olent and as general to-day, possibly more so, than at the height of the fighting.&#13;
| was talking with one of the half dozen men who are most directly charged with re- sponsibility for getting Europe out of its snarl, one who is gravely conscious of his need for help from every quarter, but entirely tolerant of those who do not feel that their conscience or their self-interest calls on them to give help. He asked me what America’s present attitude is. | told him | thought that so far as the Ruhr question was concerned, and so long as the Harding Administration was in power, America’s attitude would be one of aloofness. In his answering comment, this European statesman used twice a_ phrase which reflected a high-minded willingness to utter frankly the argument against his own interest. Twice he said “By the grace of God, you are three thousand miles away from it.” By “it,” he meant, again to quote his own words, “the feud, between the Teuton and the Gaul, which is a red trail across two thousand years of European history.”&#13;
When he said “By the grace of God you over there have made a fresh start with new roots, and are three thousand miles away from it,” the remark that came to my lips was, “Far be it from me to reduce the distance by so much as a single mile.” But with the impulse came the sense that what might in ordinary circumstances be harmless humor, might sound, to a man bearing a sombre responsibility, like heartless flippancy, and | did not say it. And with greater reflection came the thought, can we in America not look upon our distance, not as a mere safety, but as a reason and ameans for giving help? Does not our very detachment equip us for some kind of réle of disinterested helpfulness? Is it not practicable for us, without reducing our distance from this permanent feud, and without becoming identified with either side of it, to provide the disinterested spirit and material help that would soften and dissolve the age-long tension, now in one of its most acute and dangerous phases?&#13;
That is the contrast between two American points of view. One says: we are safely out of it; in Heaven’s name let us take the gift of distance the gods gave us and stay out. The other says: it is a call for help; let us not con- fess the lack of courage and the lack of re- sourcefulness to ignore it.&#13;
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And yet, with all the will in the world to help, just what, concretely, can we do? Well-meaning Americans can, and do, devise plan after plan for settling reparations, and for stabilizing currencies; but as to each plan, there is always at least one nation that won’t accept. Generally, it must be said, the most consistent vetoer of these plans is the French Government. It was the French Government which refused to accept Secre- tary Hughes’s plan for an international com- mission of business men to estimate Ger- many’s capacity to pay. It was a French refusal that made it impossible for a number of international bankers, including Mr. J. P. Morgan, to go on with a plan they had for fixing reparations, loaning money to various countries with which to stabilize their cur- rencies, and otherwise restoring Europe. The difficulty with the French—and on this point the testimony of all who have gone to the heart of things is universal—is that they want two separate things which, under the given conditions, are incompatible with each&#13;
other. The French want: (A) Reparations from Germany. (B) Military and political security against&#13;
future German aggression.&#13;
France can get (A) only from a thriving and working Germany. But in order to get (B) the French want to reduce Germany to a condition of military and political impotence, which necessarily would include economic im- potence and make it impossible for Germany to earn and pay reparations. The French have been travelling the weary round of this closed circle ever since the Paris Peace Con- ference. The French demand, and are clearly entitled to have, enough money from Ger- many to restore the devastated districts of northern France. The French also demand enough money to pay the pensions for the dead French soldiers, although, under the Armistice contract, France’s right to this is much less clear. But this latter sum does not matter: let it stand that the French want and are entitled to have enough money to restore the actual damage done by the Ger- mans in northern France. This is so large a sum that Germany can only make it and pay it if she is permitted to keep her economic and political unity, and to go to work with the maximum of non-interference. (Incidentally&#13;
in the very process of being permitted to re- main whole and to work without interference,&#13;
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Can America Help?&#13;
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BAD EMS, HESSE, GERMANY Can France obtain from Germany the reparations she so properly claims and at the same time be proof against the&#13;
possible use of force by a regenerated Germany?&#13;
And how much of the present difficult situation in the Ruhr has re-&#13;
resulted from the failure of Great Britain and the United States to guarantee France against future German aggression? Germany seems bent on refusing to pay France if possible, but her own people are demanding that something be done to build up a gold secured currency&#13;
Germany will acquire an efficiency and power which, at the end of the reparations pay- ments, will make her, in an economic sense, a more formidable nation than any of her competitor nations.) But when you have pointed out the process, the only process, by which Germany can pay maximum repara- tions, the French then say that they want also military and political security against future German aggression. The way to get this security is to dismember Germany, keep her under bondage, harass her steadily until her population diminishes, deprive her of solidarity. But if you do this, Germany cannot pay the reparations. So here you are again at the beginning of the same old circle.&#13;
At the Paris Peace Conference, one of President Wilson’s economic advisers, dis- cussing the French demands with one of the French delegates, said to the Frenchman; “You French are trying to get your Christmas toast and your Easter egg out of the same&#13;
goose. It can’t be done. You have got to choose between money and revenge—between reparations out of a living Germany, and security through the death of Germany.” In the various conferences on the same subject between Lloyd George and Briand, Lloyd George used to say to the Frenchman, “I wish you would show me how it is possible to get milk and steak out of the same cow.”&#13;
There was a plan by which France was to have got her security separate from her rep- arations, by a means which would not have impaired Germany’s capacity to pay repara- tions. At the Paris Peace Conference Mr. Wilson promised Mr. Clemenceau he would ask America to unite with Great Britain ina joint treaty with France, guaranteeing the latter that in the event of any future attack from Germany, America and Britain would come to France’s help. But after Mr. Wilson returned to America, when the bitter fight against the League of Nations arose, trailing&#13;
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its cloud of suspicion against all things European, Mr. Wilson saw that in the then mood of America, it would be so hopeless to get such a treaty through the Senate, that he never even proposed it. Thereupon Great Britain felt she was released from her part of the promise. This episode made the French feel that she could have but one dependable security against future German aggression, namely to make Germany impotent and keep her so. The failure of America and Britain to give this promised guarantee accounts large- ly for the mood of almost neurotic hysteria that France is in about the need of mak- ing herself secure by making Germany im- potent, through dismemberment or otherwise. You can think what you please about America going in now, but there can be no doubt that by first going part way in, and then backing out, America is responsible for much of the present state of Europe.&#13;
Many thoughtful Englishmen think it was a pity for Britain to back out, even though she had the excuse of America’s backing out first. It was this failure of Britain to give the guarantee that marked the separation between a France and Britain united as allies, and a France and Britain little short of bitter enemies. This episode was the beginning of the long series of nagging actions on the part of France, and resentful ones on the part of Britain, that culminated in the strain of the recent July, France ‘seems to have forgiven America more readily for failing to go on with Wilson’s proposal, or certainly to have con- cealed her resentment, if she felt it. But to- ward Britain France began that long series of bedevilling frustrations of British policies and interests in various parts of the world, out of which so much unhappy history has arisen in the short space of three years. A part of France’s motive, freely admitted, has been to force Britain into giving her the treaty of guaranty. France’s course, seen in terms of ordinary human relations, is curious. In effect, she says to Britain, “I want you to love me and protect me; if you refuse to love me and protect me, | will pull your house down’’—a course of reasoning and conduct which would seem more at home in some restricted kinds of feminine psychology than in the intercourse of nations.&#13;
Britain fears that France, if she cannot have the treaty of guaranty, or some equiva- lent security from outside herself against&#13;
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Mark Sullivan&#13;
future German aggression, will press on a course that will end in the-disruption of Ger- many into several independent states. Such an outcome, the British regard with the grav- est concern. Several British statesmen and leaders of thought said that the break-up of Germany would mean the break-up of European civilization. When | asked why there should be the relation of cause and effect between these two events, they gave reasons too long and intricate to reproduce here. I felt unable to judge. But it is cer- tain that this is the British fear.&#13;
A good many of the “highbrows”’ in Europe laugh at you when you ask if Europe is “re- covering.” They claim there is no such thing as a ‘“‘return to normalcy.” They say that what Europe is doing is passing through an evolution into a new system, an evolution similar to occasions iin the past when the world has discarded whole systems, whole philosophies of life, and of man’s relation to his fellow-men and to the universe. They say, in short, that the capitalistic system is passing, and that Furope is not to be described in terms of its distance from or to the order of 1914; that Europe is entering upon something new.&#13;
It is hard to tell. If you sought for evidence to show that capitalism and the present industrial system is being seriously undermined, you would probably list it thus:&#13;
(a) Thrift, saving, is.one of the corner stones of the present politicaleconomy. And in every country of Europe, some to one de- gree and some to another, it is being dem- onstrated, through depreciation of the currency, that the saving of money is futile. If you saved a dollar, the government, through depreciation of the currency, took every cent of it away from you. In Germany the savers of money have lost every mark they had accumulated. In Austria also, and in some other countries, the savers of money have lost all. In France, up to date, they have lost two thirds; and if the depreciation of the franc goes farther, as it probably will, they will approach the condition of the Ger- man savers. Even in England, the savers of money have lost much. In more than half of Europe it has been demonstrated that the last thing to do with money is to save it. Everywhere those who spent their money had the laugh on those who saved it. The wise were those who spent; the foolish those&#13;
— wwe wT ef wa |&#13;
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IN THE HILLS NEAR GRANADA, SPAIN&#13;
The difficulties of Europe are to be found in countries that were neutral during the war as well as in those that were actually engaged in the mighty struggle, for economic troubles quickly jump boundary lines because of the commerce of nations and economic ills are almost immune to local preventive methods&#13;
who saved—a reversal of one of the cardinal rules of conduct, a negation of one of the cornerstones of capitalism. If the psychologi- cal results of this should be permanent, or if the wiping out of values through depreciation of the currency is to be a permanent or even frequent device of governments; or if the causes that have led to depreciation are permanent, then, obviously, one of the es- cential foundations of capitalistic society will have gone.&#13;
(b) The income tax and the inheritance taxes to the degree to which they are now practised in nearly every country including America constitute a seizing of privately owned capital. What is more to the point, they constitute a taking of the permanent capital which is in use as the basis of industry, and using it up, so that, for the most part, it disappears. The capital levy is not a thing of future speculation; it is here. Ifa business man’s income is 10 per cent. of his capital and if the government takes two thirds of his&#13;
income, that does not differ from a capital levy of 6 per cent. of his capital. There are many capitalists who say they would rather give up 50 per cent. of their capital in one lump, than 5 per cent. a year indefinitely. Still more clear are the cases where inheritance taxes and death duties take 10, 20, or even 50 per cent. of accumulated savings. This money, in large part, is taken out of business where it serves the ordinary purposes of permanent capital; and is paid out by thie government to civil servants and others who, for the most part, consume it as fast as they get it. Essentially, it is both a destruction of existing capital, and, what is more fatal, a destruction of the incentive to save for future capital. If it goes beyond a certain point, and is kept up long enough, it is undoubtedly a negation of one of the cornerstones of the present basis of industrial society.&#13;
(c) The doles to unemployed. It is one of the principles of our present political economy, as analyzed by Adam Smith and the&#13;
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older economists, that a man must work or starve. This principle, in several countries in Europe, is now denied. In England, the principle is asserted and is in practice that a man who is unemployed does not need to seek a new job as the alternative to starva- tion. So long as he is unemployed, he re- ceives from the government, or otherwise through semi-official channels, or through unions a “dole.” In the last four years, England has paid out upward of two billion dollars in these doles. This money, for the most part, has been taken from the accumu- lated savings of the country, through the mechanism of income taxes or death duties. The old principle that the cost of production is kept low by the need of the unemployed man to accept whatever wages he is offered, is superseded, for the time being at least, by the humane principle that the unemployed man shall be provided with enough to protect him against the fear of hunger.&#13;
All this evidence, massed, seems formidable. And yet the shrewd people of the world are those who maintain their belief in accepted economic principles at precisely the moment when those principles appear to have become superseded—who keep their belief in the old normal at the moment when less sure-footed persons think the abnormal has become the new normal.&#13;
One begins to look carefully into these old laws. In all the years since Malthus an- nounced his theory about population, most persons have looked on it as something be- longing in a future so far distant that no one need pay any practical attention to it. And yet something like the Malthus theory may be working obscurely in some parts of Europe. When there are brought together more people within a given national boundary than the soil within that boundary can support, a precarious situation arises. This is the case of Britain and Germany. Not more than twenty or twenty-five of Britain’s forty millions can live comfortably on her soil. For the remainder to live, Britain’s statesmen and industrial leaders must provide a steady flow of manufacturing and of exchange of the products of that manufacturing with other countries for food. It assumes a continuity of international trade at something near a given normal which is not easy to guarantee. For three years Britain has had an average unemployment of nearly a million and a half.&#13;
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That is one reason Britain feels so strongly that she must bring back norma! economic conditions in the world.&#13;
The present thought of America about Europe is so far short of reality that one is tempted to smile a little at our naiveté. When I left home in the spring, the International Court was an acute issue of American politics, and during the summer, every paper one saw from home reflected the Court as a continuing issue, with Harding and Hughes making speeches about it and politicians everywhere discussing it excitedly. But in Europe, -in the course of hundreds of conversations with public men of one sort or another, | never once heard the Court mentioned, and can only recall having seen one or two brief allusions to it in the European newspapers. The Court is a fine institution and it is func- tioning usefully. But it functions only with small matters on the outer edge of things. For curing what is at the heart of Europe’s trouble, the Court is hardly more effective than the Hague Tribunal, which, at the first thunder of war in 1914, gave a scared squeak, hurriedly told the janitor to close the shutters, and stored its paraphernalia of arbitration safely until after the commotion had been put down by force of arms.&#13;
As to the League of Nations, that never came into any conversation about public af- fairs in Europe, unless the American intro- duced it. There is in Europe nothing like either the amount or the heat of the discus- sions Americans indulge in about the League. The League, like its child, the Court, is busy and useful, but only with matters kept shrinkingly separate from the big European questions which are the Ruhr occupation and the relations of France and Britain and of France and Germany. If the League should achieve the vitality to assert jurisdiction over this group of questions, its prestige and authority would increase accordingly.&#13;
In spite of the disturbing picture Europe presents, it is yet true that if at any moment France and Britain should come to agreement with any degree of hearty good-faith and unity of interest, and if they should fix the amount of reparations, agree on the division of it and on sound ways of col- lecting it—in such an event, Europe, so far as trade is concerned, might leap forward overnight into a long period of large and active production.&#13;
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THE FIRST THOUSAND THE HARDEST&#13;
In this department of the magazine in June there was published “ The Growth of a Rainy Day Fund” —being the personal account of a World’s Work reader’s experience in building up an investment estate of more than $100,000. Since then letters have been received from other readers relating their&#13;
experiences in accumulating “rainy day funds’ of more modest proportions.&#13;
Two of these ex-&#13;
periences are given below in the words of the writers—one a voung minister in the West and the&#13;
other a courageous mother in the South.&#13;
They show the importance of small savings and indicate&#13;
the great value of the first thousand doliars saved—a value out of all proportion to the amount, be- cause of what that sum wiil actuatly accompiish, and more particularly because of the habit of thrift&#13;
that 1s formed in accumulating it.—THE EpiTors.&#13;
"T SEEMS presumptuous for a young min- ister to talk about a “ Rainy Day Fund.” The ministry is not considered a pro- fession where one can make or save money. Iam just a young man in sucha&#13;
profession, yet my wife and | have a fairly good “Rainy Day Fund.”&#13;
Seven years ago | left the theological semi- nary for a charge which paid $600. The next year they gave me $800, the third year $1,000. Then | was moved to a parish that paid $1,600, where the next year my salary was increased to $2,000. It is now $2,400. You will notice that my lowest salaries were during the war and the high prices, and you will ask how we ever saved out of such salaries. We did not. But we always lived within our salary. That was the first important de- cision.&#13;
But other things have come. Young people have married. People also have died. | have written articles for ministers’ maga- zines. There have been many calls for com- mencement addresses, baccalaureate sermons, and special help as preacher in evangelistic services. And whenever extra money has been received outside of my salary we have refused to spend it; it has gone into our sav- ings account. That was the most important decision. We knew we would have to live on our salary if we did not get this outside money. We therefore managed so as to live on the salary and save the extras.&#13;
Let me say, however, that we live well. My wife has all the electrical apparatus, such as vacuum sweeper, washer, etc. We havea good car. My library is excellent; | am a buyer of good books and numerous maga- zines. Our two little girls are about the best dressed in town and my wife and | dress accordingly. Our contributions to the church this year will easily reach $300.&#13;
When | entered my first pastorate seven years ago, | had not a cent of insurance and not a cent in the bank. If | die to-night, my wife will get $6,250 insurance. If I am killed while keeping my next lecture appointment, she will get $11,250. The three policies | hold will help her and the two children to make their way in the world. It is not much but it will help. | also shall ce cared for if totally disabled. Besides these policies | have a share in an electric light company which pays 7 per cent. and my bank ac- count is fairly good.&#13;
| heard an old German friend of mine say that “the first thousand dollars were the hardest to get, the others came easier.” | find that he knew whereof he spoke.&#13;
The woman’s experience covers a longer period and shows more of the fruits of saving. She wrote:&#13;
| have read with interest the Rainy Day Fund article of the June Wor.Lp’s Work. | like these articles very much, for their in- fluence must be helpful to many who are struggling to save something for the in- evitable rainy day. The author of this June article was successful to a marked degree.&#13;
My own experience, while nothing like as prosperous, has had encouragement enough to keep me trying all the time and results enough to show some accomplishment in building up my rainy day fund. | am writing my ex- perience not as something wonderful but as an inspiration to other women who have been left with families when the money was gone and the way looked dark and uncertain. | would say to all such:&#13;
“The home and the children are worth the struggle. Try the Rainy Day Fund. Even though it takes ten years to succeed, try it!”&#13;
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| know that it pays to save, even in very small amounts.&#13;
| married, quite young, a prosperous farmer of the southland. Our union was blessed with a large family. All the time | felt that my husband was fully capable of supporting us in comfort. But there is something about country life in the South tending to ease and leisure, especially on the large landed estates where the very nature of the life—bossing ten- ants, selling crops, and collecting rents—does not demand keen business insight. It is not conducive to thrift and saving and when mis- fortune overtakes one, as it sometimes does, it finds those trained in this easy school un- equipped for the exactions and competition in other lines of work.&#13;
In my own life the crash came and | realized as never before the lack of training for all other business in a farmer’s life. My husband and | gave up all our property to our credi- tors, even our home. We moved to town to educate our children. | believed my hus- band would do well in business. He said from the first that he was untrained for busi- ness, and succeeding years proved his asser- tion true. He got a small job and held it to his death, with a very small salary and no hope of a raise and no future.&#13;
No money, no friends, his courage gone, and | knowing nothing! That was our plight —a pretty sad plight with a family on our hands. The World War was in sight and living costs soaring daily. It was hard to live in those days, much less to put something aside for the rainy day.&#13;
| felt, however, that it was imperative to save something with a family that owned nothing and who might and did become sick at times. Neither | nor my children were very strong. So | resolved within myself that come what would | would put five dollars a month in the savings bank.&#13;
Some months | could save this amount, some months | could not; some | saved a little more. | found it necessary to get work myself and to give practically all | made to the family budget in order to keep the children at school and the wolf from the door.&#13;
When we entered the war, | had a few hundred dollars in the savings bank and the Liberty bonds then offered a splendid op- portunity for my small savings which went on regularly, big and little, mostly little. 1 kept the children in school, two and three of them.&#13;
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| paid cash for everything and kept out of debt by hard work and rigid economy. Two of my daughters went to work and they helped me nobly every month when they got their salaries. Together we worked, and | saved the little sum I set out to save.&#13;
When the war was over | had one thousand dollars in the bank. My, how I had to economize to save that thousand dollars! | had been paying house rent all those years. Nine, | believe. Then the house was sold and | determined | would try to buy a home with the money that had gone before for rent. I was tired of paying rent and having nothing in the end.&#13;
Imagine buying a home with a thousand dollars soon after the war when prices were at the peak! Well, I did; making the first payment and mortgaging it for the balance. My friends said | would never get the house paid for out of my small salary, with taxes, insurance, interest, street improvement, and other assessments, and innumerable repairs necessary on an old house. In addition | had to keep my boy in college.&#13;
My friends saw all the defects of the house. It was too far out; too much out of repair. Land around was bringing little or no rent. It would be a white elephant on my hands. But | told them | could not go down town with one thousand dollars and buy anything. | had to go where | could. I could see through this property; they couldn't. | could see the rooms rented; the town was growing my way; and some day, | could sell the vacant lots about me for a profit.&#13;
So | plunged ahead and bought the house and lots. | tremble now when | think of my rashness. But now, after three years, the town has grown out to me. I have made all the payments due on the house. The vacant lots | can sell and pay off the balance on the property. Best of all, | have kept my son at college where he graduated this June with an A. B. degree.&#13;
Some will ask how I have done this. | reply: “By saving that little five dollars every month, by using judgment and econ- omy, working hard and looking ahead.” Not one penny of this was made by speculation or in get-rich-quick schemes. It was done by faith and prayer and works. | am willing&#13;
to put my little thousand dollars against any one else’s as a remarkable Rainy Day Fund.&#13;
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WORLD'S WORKSHOP&#13;
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So many of the interesting things in the making of a magazine never get past the editor's desk that we have decided to devote a few pages every month to sharing some of them with our readers. These things include an acquaintance with the writers of the articles we print, let'ers from readers, and a miscellany of other things that may interest others as much as they interest us.—TuHe Epirors.&#13;
HESTER H. ROWELL’S §$ar- ticles on the political upheaval in the wheat belt have an es- pecial timeliness in view of the election of Magnus Johnson as&#13;
United States Senator from Minnesota. Memories of the late “‘ Pitchfork Ben’ Till- man will recur to many readers; but in the case of Johnson, as in the case of Tillman, much will be lost of the meat of the matter if thought is taken only of the picturesque overalls and the milk pail, and none taken of the deep fountains of unrest which have welled up so original an oddity into Senatorial halls. Of these deeper meanings of the stentorian Cincinnatus, Mr. Rowell gives a clear under- standing.&#13;
This month the Wortp’s Work has shifted the position of the investment artice. Next month, even more portentous changes will be noted. The Red Eagle cover will give place to a four-color cover illustration taken from one of the articles; the frontispiece also will be in colors, and eight pages of full color will be printed, the work of Miss Jane Peter- sen, celebrating the romance of the fishing fleet of old Gloucester, Mass., which is about to celebrate its three hundredth anniversary. James B. Connolly, whose fictional prose has so often recaptured the magic of the sea, will chant the glories of the men who go down to the waters after fish.&#13;
In later numbers will appear other full- color illustrative features covering our Na- tional Parks, the game birds of North America, and other subjects of interest that lend them- selves to colorful pictorial illustration.&#13;
Two grieved readers remind us of a recent&#13;
error in the WorLp’s Work. We printed a portrait of Senator Alva Adams of Colorado, and remarked that he had been thrice Gov- ernor of that State. The Dick-Whittington- like reference was wrong. It was the new Senator’s father, who was the Governor.&#13;
Reverting to the Rowell articles, a reader in Milwaukee praises them and then takes issue with one of his conclusions. He says:&#13;
‘“‘T was interested in Mr. Rowell’s article on Wisconsin and Minnesota politics, and believe he has been an intelligent observer. But he misses One very vital point, it seems to me.&#13;
“Since Cleveland’s day the Bryan Demo- crats have been in control and, finally, in the last Presidential election, traded themselves out of existence. They had to get the law amended at the last session of the legislature, to give themselves a legal status again.&#13;
“Along with their corrupt cohabitation with La Follette, the total vote of Wisconsin has grown steadily less, and Mr. Rowell puts his finger on the other spot when he talks of last year’s Senatorial election.&#13;
“It looks to me to be a more dangerous assault upon popular government than is generally realized. The facts will bear study. You may find a suggestion for deeper consid- eration of their tendencies.&#13;
“Under the smoke of radical (farmer-labor) movements, our popular elections are being perverted and undermined.”’&#13;
The following memorandum of what Wil- liam McAndrew is trying to do in his series, “The Success of Our Successors,”’ should be of interest to all grown-ups who are helping youngsters grow up:&#13;
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A notable manifestation of the seriousness with which we regarded the business of run- ning the American schools is the increasing number of public-school teachers who pursue professional training during “‘vacation.”’&#13;
12,600 in Teachers College, New York; 1,000 in New York University.&#13;
Harvard, Cornell, University of Michigan, University of Chicago, University of Virginia report their thousands. Pacific coast univer- sities crowded.&#13;
Most of the colleges and normal schools are running during the summer for teachers who are in service the rest of the year.&#13;
It means that America is taking seriously the great national problem of education, and that we are no longer content to turn the children over to immature young women who have gone scarcely farther into study than is necessary to lead their classes.&#13;
Along with this growth of professional study has come the reéxamination of educational aims.&#13;
Beginning with this issue of the Wor.Lp’s Work, the absurdity of aiming to produce a few scholars by taxing the whole people, 90 per cent. of which is made up of hand-workers, is repudiated in the first of a series of articles upon the American’s plans for his national upkeep.&#13;
William McAndrew, who is assembling this magazine’s material, reaches the conclusion, after interviewing public men (not school masters) in every corner of the country, that the faith and affection which the American people centre in their schools are as profound, deep-rooted, and co dial as any national trait we have.&#13;
The series he will offer here takes up the American objectives, shows that they are the same for our government and for our schools, and presents felicitous facts and photographs from all over the country, show- ing that these objectives are being progres- sively realized.&#13;
The following is a letter from a reader in Chicago. THe Epirors, Wortp’s Work,&#13;
| want you to read the enclosed clipping, which | gleaned from a small town Texas paper—the Lockhart (Texas) Post Register. It was written by “The Country Doctor” who conducts a column in that paper, in many ways as interesting and entertaining as the&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
one conducted by Don Marquis, or the late B. L. T. on the Chicago Tribune.&#13;
After reading it don’t you feel that the gen- tleman from Dallas whose letter you printed in the World’s Workshop in August is a bit pessimistic to say the least? The clipping is an accurate side-light on the true character of the citizens of Texas, our most maligned state.&#13;
It seems that Emerson Hough is the only writer who ever got under the hide of Texans and told the truth about them, Mr. Duffus not excepted, and Mr. Hough (peace be to his ashes) wrote fiction.&#13;
Ninety per cent. of the people have never been known to vote for anything—why, that large a majority wouldn’t vote that the world is round; and as to his statement about the safety of an anti-klan Texan, it is as silly as it is untruthful. | know men who have laughed at the Klan all over the entire state, and never had a finger raised against them.&#13;
| have travelled all over the state of Texas and never had a gun pulled on me, yet twice in July | saw guns flashed in Chicago over such a trivial thing as a near-accident while driving a car. | venture that there are more gun-toters on Michigan Avenue, or Fifth Avenue to the square mile than there are to an entire county in even the Texas painted by the anonymous writer from Dallas.&#13;
The enclosed clipping read as follows:&#13;
“Swing low, sweet chariot, swing low,” and as it gently, noiselessly swung to, at the sick bedside of Uncle Frank Dorn, angels must have guided the good old negro’s spirit to a place aboard the unseen and unseeable chariot of God’s transport, and with a delicate whirr unheard by mortal ear, this carrier, fashioned and forged from the sacrificial blood of the gentle Jesus, departed. His boundless love, convoyed by the “‘Old Black Joes”’ of slavery days, guided at the hand of Omniscience, sped ahead for the Beautiful Always of the eternal To-morrow.&#13;
The above is my tribute to the memory of one of the best, truest old negroes of Caldwell County, Uncle Frank Dorn. He lived, during his life, on a small farm some four miles north of Luling, and I can do no better than quote Dr. J. S. Francis, as we came away from the old negro’s house, Monday afternoon: “‘Uncle Frank and Aunt Dinah (his wife) have made good citizens, and this holds in comparison with white or black.” In the eighties as to age and ill of influenza, I suggested to the old man a few days ago that his life was nearly spent: “Doctor, I’ve tried to do right all my life, and when Old Marster sends for me, I’m ready to go,” was the aged negro’s reply.&#13;
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A RED LETTER BOOK GUIDE&#13;
A Concise and Comprehensive Survey of Recent and Current Books&#13;
By THOMAS L. MASSON&#13;
WORLD AFFAIRS&#13;
ITH the exception of Herbert&#13;
Asquith’s history of the causes lead-&#13;
ing up to the war and his account&#13;
of the war itself, which will be issued later on, practically all the chief actors have written their war books. Most of them are dull reading, but taken as a composite picture of personal evi- dence, they form a mass of immensely valuable historical material. In addition to these personal accounts, there have been a great number of financial, historical, and biological volumes by various experts, each giving his own remedy. Amid all this conflicting evidence and opinion we gather two notes: that civilization § in Europe is in a very bad way and that America is the one bright spot in the fu.ure. Bertrand Russell hov-ever, has already ventured the opinion that it is much better for Europe to pass into a comfortable obscurity equal to the lost tribes of Israel rather than to undergo the fate of being “saved” by America. We shall await Mr. Rus- sell’s coming volume, “Prospects of -Industrial Civilization” (Century) with the somewhat de- pleted interest we feel when any distinguished writer on the other side of the water, not entirely dependent upon us for his living, deprecates in his&#13;
own manner the existence of this unfortunate country of ours.&#13;
We are free to confess that, while most of these war books are undoubtedly useful to the student and the politician, they are very dull reading. This month, however, we are glad to make a note of “Modern and Contemporary Civilization” (Lip- pincott. $2.20) By Harry Grant Plumb and Gilbert Giddings Benjamin, which sums up fairly well the main factors of the war; and ‘‘ The Riddle of the Rhine” by Victor Lefebuere (Dutton. Price not given) which we find to be an exceedingly interest- ing account of gas and gas warfare generally. Other books of the month are, “The Making of Rural Europe” (Dutton. $2.50) by Hellen Douglas Irvine, being a historical survey of landholding; “The Making of the Western Mind” (Doran. $3.50) By F. Mellan Stawell and F. S. Marvin, a rather illuminating and well written essay on European thought; ‘““The Reformation of War” (Dutton. $6.) by Col. J. F. C. Fuller, D.S.O., long, dull, and highly instructive, and finally “‘Coépera- tive Democracy” (Macmillan $3.50) By James P. Warbasse. From the purely business point of view, this last book is highly important, containing an exceedingly comprehensive account of the co-&#13;
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Operative movement and its astonishing develop- ment.&#13;
Without being so rash as to venture a positive opinion upon a world situation which probably contains more concentrated chaos to the square inch than ever before in history, a certain amount of reflection, based upon the reading of the books mentioned, and many others, leads us to the in- evitable conclusion that America holds the whip hand over the material destinies of the world. Furthermore, if we dare to suggest such a possibil- ity to those friends of ours in Great Britain who have expressed the opinion that the Almighty Dollar&#13;
         &#13;
Y FAR the most interesting book this month dealing with a personality is “The Spirit of Islam” by the Right Hon. Syed Ameer Ali (Doran. $5.) The learned author of this very human and scholarly book is very much on his dignity in his defense of the Prophet. He touches somewhat gingerly, but nevertheless definitely, upon the two main charges which have been preferred so often by Christian writers against Mohammed, namely: that he married too often and perhaps too gaily, and that there was too much emphasis placed upon the material allurements of heaven. The author produces much evidence to show that Mohammed was a pure mystic of the highest order, much maligned, and we are bound to record that he makes out a good case. He merely mentions Washington Irving, when he might easily have dis- played irritation over Irving’s biography, which, as we now recall it, though it made no claim to original research, showed much quiet humor. We have placed this book on Islam among the personal volumes, because it deals so largely with the personality of Mohammed.&#13;
From the Orient to Connecticut and Massachu- setts seems to be a far cry, but we must record next “‘A Life of Francis Amasa Walker”’ (Holt. No price given) By James Phinney Munroe. It was the good fortune of the writer of this review to be on somewhat intimate terms with the family of General Walker during his residence in New Haven, and before he took on the presidency of the&#13;
        &#13;
E BECOME more firmly. convinced than ever as time goes on, that a constant rereading of James Parton,&#13;
' Alexis Tocqueville, and James Bryce is essential to an understanding of America and its institutions. With such a sure background, how- ever, we rapidly come to discriminate among those books about our country and its history constantly&#13;
   &#13;
PURELY PERSONAL&#13;
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BOOKS ABOUT AMERICA&#13;
Thomas L. Masson&#13;
rules us, we nevertheless feel that when it comes to doing the right and the square thing, the in- fluence of this country and its impartial spirit wil! be one of the largest factors in such a desperate case as now exists. For this reason, the testimony of so many witnesses should not be ignoréd by readers It has often been said that we are so close to the war that it is useless to read any books about it also, it is true that it bores us. But we owe it tc ourselves to find out as much as we can about Europe. As a matter of fact, when one becomes actually immersed in this war literature it is a very interesting occupation.&#13;
Massachusetts Institute of Technology. We therefore have read this book with peculiar pleasure and pronounce it a model of biographical writing. General Walker was a very great man. He was modest, human, broad, and the story of his life is in such strong contrast to so many of the blatant personalities of the present day, that it makes us tremble at the future of this country, unless we can go on producing more men like him.&#13;
So far as the other personal books of the month are concerned, we note “Memories of Later Years” (Appleton. No price given) by Oscar Browning, voluminous European patter, fairly and garrulously good; ‘‘Dostoevsky” (Knopf. $2.50) being letters of the famous Russian epileptic, in- teresting only to those who are interested in him; “Things Remembered” (Houghton. $5.) by Arthur Sherburne, which moved us not very much; and a book called ““The Dominant Sex” (Doran. $3.) by Mathilde and Mathias Vaerting, which appears to be another attempt, not only to explain woman (something that nobody: has ever succeeded in doing) but to show that the dominant sex is some- thing that exists by itself, irrespective of either side. We mention this book in this department because it seems to be personal, but whether anybody will be able to extract from it any information about the dominant sex which will be of any value as a practical guide, we are unable to say. It is im- possible for us to judge a book like this with any coherence. We have been married too long, too dominantly, and too favorably.&#13;
  &#13;
being issued. For some time now, due in the be- ginning to Owen Wister and other patriotic writers, there has been a movement in favor of better text books on American history. Many of these text books have deservedly been held up to ridicule be- cause of their stupid and erroneous presentations. There seems to be seeping into the minds of some of our educators the idea that to give the facts about&#13;
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our early history is not necessarily unpatriotic. Some of the best books on any country have been written by outsiders. For example, here is a book by an Englishman ‘‘The Causes and Character of the American Revolution” (Oxford University Press. 7s 6d) by H. E. Egerton which seems to us to be written in the twin spirit of fairness and historic responsibility. It is well done, short, and salient, but ought possibly, however, to be read in the light of some of the most prominent standard text books dealing with the same period (sav Lossing).&#13;
At the other end of the chronological scale is a book that we have read with feelings that are some- times defined as “mingled.” Frankly, we don’t know what to make of it. It deals with prohi- bition, and the prohibition of to day. It is “‘Citi- zen or Subject” (Dutton. $3.) by Francis Hennessy (‘‘a member of the New York bar’’) and as a very frank, not to say almost passionate attempt to dispose on paper of the poor old Eighteenth Amend- ment, which still, in spite of everything, seems to&#13;
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A Red Letter Book Guide 551&#13;
be hanging on like grim death. Personally, we believe that it will pull through in spite of what Mr. Hennessy states about it. He seems to feel, in the language of the living room, that it is dis- tinctly ‘‘de trop.” But then, Mr. Hennessy is a New Yorker. There are some people who some- times feel that New Yorkers are not all Americans. We are obliged to be neutral on this point. And so far as this book is concerned, we should not mind it at all if it were better reading. You know pretty well what the author means in the first few pages, and thereafter the plot doesn’t “intrigue” us, a word which we have never used before, but feel incumbent upon to employ at least once.&#13;
There are two other useful books which we are glad to record, namely “A Primer of Citizenship (Dutton. $1.50) by Mrs. Reginald De Koven and “We and Our Work”’ (Boni. No price) by Joseph French Johnson, both containing a mass of statis- tical and institutional information which for pur- poses of contemporary reference, are valuable to the citizen,&#13;
 &#13;
DRAMA&#13;
N DRAMA there are two plays, one of which took a prize and the other of which is in our opinion equally good. Thefirst is “Ice Bound” (Little, Brown. $1.50) by Owen Davis, and the&#13;
second “‘ The Adding Machine” (Doubleday. $1.50) by Elmer Rice. Both in the text are most excellent reading. And indeed, we are most glad to record here the growing practice of publishing the best plays. Charles Lamb, in one of his Shakespearean essays, declares that the best way to understand a play is not to see it but to read it, his argument, as we now recall it, being that in reading a play, you are limited in the stage business only by the limits of your imagination. We know of no more de- lightful occupation than play reading. As a rule it is also much safer than ordinary fiction reading.&#13;
 &#13;
because most of the plays published have already been acted with success, which means that they are good. The reader is therefore insured in ad- vance against getting a “‘dud’—something that cannot—we know to our sorrow—be said of all the novels.&#13;
There are other books of plays this month. There is a reprint of “Tolstoi’s Dramatic Works” a complete edition from original texts, translated so admirably by Nathan Haskell Dole (Cromwell. $2.50 net) and there are also “‘Puppet Plays’”’ (Harcourt. $1.75) by Alfred Kreymborg and “Ghetto Comedies” (Reprint by Macmillan. $2.50) by Israel Zangwill, those delightful comedies of Jewish life by a great literary artist, if not always a great dramatist.&#13;
 &#13;
MENTAL AND SPIRITUAL&#13;
HE literature of the Mind and theliterature&#13;
of the Spirit would seem to be widely sepa-&#13;
rated. The warfare between Science and&#13;
Religion is proverbial. Yet, side by side with the continuous controversy going on between the advocates of one and the advocates of the other, it is becoming more and more evident to close ob- servers of both fields that these apparently two opposite poles of thought are not really opposites at all, but only different viewpoints of the same thing. Psycho-analysis has probed the Un- conscious, and sounded Deity; for in the Uncon- scious are declared to be hidden all of the unutter- able cadences of infinity. Vernon Kellog, the biologist, in his latest and most significant book,&#13;
 &#13;
“Human Life as the Biologist Sees It” (Holt. $1.50) declares (pages 39-42) that he is beginning to realize there is more in his wife and child than appears in bodies “composed of engines, and of living tissues and organs composed of substances.” What he really means is of course, that the scientist, like the layman, is equally put to it to explain ori- gins. Mr. Kellog’s book, short and well written as all of his books are, is a very sane and very frank confession—with some quite natural hedging—on the whole mystery of life. If we wish, among this month’s books on this twin subject, to go to the other extreme, we have “Western Mysticism” (Dutton. $5.) by Dom Cuthbert Butler, a book which not only deals with many of the most promi-&#13;
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552&#13;
nent contemplatives, but which performs the ad- mirable service reinforcing the author’s text by many quotations from their utterances. These two books, representing as they do almost opposite sides of the mystery of human life, should be taken in connection with ‘‘The Riverside New Testa- ment” (Houghton. $3.) a new translation by William G. Ballantine, D.D. Among many new translations of the New Testament, Dr. Ballan- tine’s is characterized by dignity of treatment and an enviable scholarship. We are frank however in expressing a doubt as to whether he has really added anything to a text which has already been so thoroughly treated. It appears to us, with all&#13;
Thomas L. Masson&#13;
respect to new and very important renderings, which throw great illumination on the text, that the King James version must always be read as a basis for a study of the Bible.&#13;
Other books in this department this month are a new edition of a very remarkable book “A Mind That Found Itself’ (Doubleday. $2.) “The Family and Its Members” (Lippincott. $2.) by Anna Garlin Spencer, and “Training in Power and Leadership” (Doran. $3.) by Grenville Kleiser. This last book is practically a recipe for making supermen. Nobody on earth could have written such a book but an American. It reeks with efficiency, and is very horrible.&#13;
FICTION&#13;
F THE two best novels we have read this month, one is by an Englishman and the other by a Spaniard. This is not in- tended to be aconfession. Among many&#13;
American books also read, we were favorably dis- posed in advance towards “The Nuptial Flight” (Boni. $2) because so much of the work of the author, Edgar Lee Masters, had in the past, given us so much pleasure. Alas! Mr. Master’s book is a strained attempt to portray two American families, or rather to portray certain characters springing from those families. It is written in this-is-a-cow style of the old New England primer, and after about forty or fifty pages the monotony of the style, largely descriptive, is exhausting. So far as story telling is concerned, this book has the common fault of so many American novels, where the author spends so much of his time in describing how the characters feel, instead of letting them speak for themselves. Robert Chambers, in his “Eris”? however doesn’t make this mistake (Doran. $2.) According go the list accompanying this book, Mr. Chambers has written fifty-six novels, and this is one more, making altogether fifty-seven varieties of Robert Chambers. And this is about a girl who went into the movies! It is stuffed with smart dialogue. And now let us come back to our Spaniard and our Englishman.&#13;
The Spaniard, as you may have suspected, is Vincente Blasco Ibanez. His book “‘The Tempt- ress” (Dutton. $2) is so lurid, in a sense so trite, that we are almost ashamed to say how much we&#13;
4&#13;
A list of the books included by Mr. Masson in this and previous “Red Letter Book Guides’ as well as some of the books to be in- cluded in future ones will be found in the front advertising section&#13;
liked it. Was it not Rebecca West who said that Ibanez was a gentleman, but not a novelist. That would be one reason why we consider him a novel- ist. His book has one merit which we may not accord to very many works of fiction. It is inter- esting. You can say what you otherwise will about it, but (as Robert Chambers so frequently makes his main character remark ‘“‘that’s that!’’) It has a certain kind of swing, a certain atmospheric sting to it, that moves you along. Besides, Ibanez knows his lady! That is a great deal in any book that deals with one.&#13;
The book by the Englishman, Philip Gibbs, is “The Middle of the Road” (Doran. $2.) and is termed ‘“‘a novel of the period.” It is a depressing book, there is no doubt about that. The girl in it is great. The man is a cad, and nothing that Sir Philip can do to him—even at the end—makes him anything else. 'f this is the kind of a hero left over from the war then, say we, God help England. Burke to the contrary, this picture that Mr. Gibbs has drawn is almost like an indictment against a whole people. Admitting all this to be true, the book is good—very good. We think it is over- written; it could have been compressed to advan- tage. Mr. Gibbs might read Turgenieff’s recipe for writing a novel to advantage—first to write it out at great length and then to cut it down to as little as possible. Both Gibbs and Masters in- deed might take note of what Voltaire once said, that the secret of wearying your reader is to tell him everything!&#13;
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              <text> &#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
ARTHUR W. PAGE, EpiTor&#13;
FRENCH STROTHER, Manacine EpitTor BURTON J. HENDRICK, Associate EpItor : CONTENTS FOR AUGUST, 1923 Walter Hines Page - - = =e = = = =e ee ee ee ee «Frontispiece THE MARCH OF EVENTS—Awn EpiToriAL INTERPRETATION - - - - - = = 335 Horace J. Donnelly Rear-Admiral Mark H. Bristol William Fellowes Morgan Russell C. Leffingwell General Henri Joseph Eugene Gouraud METHODS OF THE MODERN BUCKET SHOPS - - = = = = = = = = 361&#13;
How Necessity Has Changed the Methods of the Bucketeers&#13;
THE KU KLUX KLAN IN THE MIDDLE WEST (Jllustrated) Ropert L. DuFFus 363 The Growth of the Invisible Empire Above the Mason-Dixon Line&#13;
WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO (Illustrated) - - - - - - Martin JOHNSON 373 Why Now Is the Time to Photograph Africa MAKING CROOKED PROMOTION UNPROFITABLE - - - - Harry S. New 384&#13;
What the Post Office Department is Doing with the Oil Promoters THE HUMOROUS SIDE OF ARCTIC EXPLORATION (Jilustrated) Amusing Incidents of the Frozen North Donatp MacMILLAn 389&#13;
VIVISECTION AND ANIMAL WELFARE (Jilustrated) - ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES 397 Is Vivisection Useful or Criminal?&#13;
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF STANLEY BALDWIN. --- - - MARK SULLIVAN 403 Why Britain’s New Premier is Who He is&#13;
LA FOLLETTE, SHIPSTEAD, AND THE EMBATTLED FARMERS (Jilustrated) Politics in Minnesota and Wisconsin CHESTER H. RowELL 408&#13;
AN ENGLISHMAN’S ADVENTURES IN THE UNITED STATES Puitip Gisss 421&#13;
American Audiences, Pullman Cars, and Adventures&#13;
GRAIN MARKETING UNDER GOVERNMENT RULE (J/lustrated) What the New Law Concerning Grain Marketing Means EDWARD JEROME DIES 425&#13;
A PIG HUNT IN THE SULU ISLANDS (J/lustrated) Lt.-Co_. SypNEY A. CLOMAN 430 A Heroic Story of Americans in the Philippines&#13;
VENTILATION FOR HEALTH AND COMFORT (Jilustrated) FLoyp W. Parsons 436 The Need for and Methods of Maintaining Good Air in Offices and Homes&#13;
THE RED LETTER BOOK GUIDE - Near the beginning of the front advertising section Reviews of and Remarks About New Books&#13;
THE WORLD’S WORKSHOP - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Some Glimpses Behind the Scenes in the Editor’s Office SUN-DIAL GOSSIP - - - - = =- Near the end of the front advertising section&#13;
Chats About the New Books Published at Country Life Press&#13;
Copyright, 1923, in the United States, Newfoundland, Great Britain, and other countries by Doubleday, Page &amp; Co. All rights reserved. TERMS: $4.00 a year; single copies 35 cents; Canadian postage 60 cents extra; foreign, $1.00.&#13;
F. N. DouBLepay, Pres. ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. NELSON DOUBLEDAY, Vice Pres. RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY, Sec’y. . A. EVERITT, Treas. JOHN J. HESSIAN, Asst. Treas.&#13;
) DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY ®) J’  COuNtTRY LIFE EDUCATIONAL REVIEW THE GARDEN MAGAZINE Rapio Broapcast ‘et SHORT STORIES CHICAGO: People’s Gas Bldg. GARDEN CITY, N. Y. NEW YORK: 120 W. 32nd Street BOSTON: Tremont Bldg. LOS ANGELES: Van Nuys Bldg.&#13;
 &#13;
WALTER H. PAGE&#13;
To whom a memorial tablet was unveiled on July 3d, in Westminster Abbey. It reads: “To the glor\ of God and in memory of Walter Hines Page, 1855-1918, Ambassador of the United States of America to the Céurt of St. James’s, 1913-1918. The friend of Britain in her sorest need”’&#13;
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or\ rica&#13;
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THE&#13;
WORLD'S WORK&#13;
AUGUST, 1923&#13;
VoLuME XLVI&#13;
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NuMBER 4&#13;
THE MARCH OF EVENTS&#13;
HE announcement that the na-&#13;
tional budget this year shows a sur-&#13;
plus of $200,000,000, instead of an&#13;
anticipated deficit of $800,000,000,&#13;
is more than an achievement in Federal finance. Its chief popular interest, indeed, is the light which it sheds upon condi- tions in the United States. Any one who is seeking grounds for optimism on the happy state of his own country, five years after the close of the war, can find it in the usually un- imaginative statistics of the Treasury De- partment. For these figures merely reflect general economic conditions. One cause that has chiefly swelled the total is the increase in income tax payments, which is one of the most certain indications of prosperity.&#13;
The fact of the matter is that the United States at present is about the soundest coun- try in the world, economically, politically, and socially. Its strength on the material side needs no demonstration; the fact stands out in the most glaring fashion; but in the other elements that constitute a great nation— political and social security—our situation likewise compares favorably with any other part of the world. About seventy-five years ago, in a letter to an American correspondent, Macaulay pictured the lamentable fate that must inevitably overcome any nation founded upon the principles of Jefferson. He foresaw the time when the pressure of poverty would cause a state of disorder for which no parallel could be found in history. Then the Huns, Macaulay declared, would arise and over-&#13;
whelm the United States, as they had de- stroyed Rome, the only difference being that the Huns who wrecked the ancient world came from without, while the Huns who were des- tined to destroy America would come from within. A nation founded upon universal suf- frage and representative institutions, and lacking the steadying influence of a privileged aristocracy, could logically have no other end.&#13;
It is unfortunate that Macaulay could not be alive to-day. He gave the United States less than two hundred years of life. The fact now is that the American Government is almost the one solidly entrenched political organi- zation in the world. No one can predict how long the governments of the European con- tinent will endure. The destructive politi- cal movements that have almost brought Europe to ruination and the ultimate influence of which no one can foresee, have made very little effective headway in this country. Bolshevism is limited to a few alien elements and even Socialism polls very few votes and has few representatives in public life. The few manifestations of “ radicalism”’ in the West are merely temporary eruptions with temporary and fleeting causes; such enter- prises have been features of American politics for a hundred years.&#13;
There is no occasion for undue complacency as we survey the American scene. There is, however, plenty of ground for a sane optimism. The country was never in a sounder condition and never better equipped to play a useful part in the world.&#13;
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HORACE J. DONNELLY For several months past. Acting Solicitor Donnelly of the Post Office Department has been busy with fraud order hearings in Washington, and as a result many fraud orders have been issued against the Texas oil stock promoters to stop them from getting more money from credulous people by their frau dulent methods&#13;
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© Brown Bros.&#13;
WILLIAM FELLOWES MORGAN&#13;
Head of the fund of $150,000 established by John D. Rockefeller, Jr., for the new insulin treatment of diabetes. The monev is to be given to several American and Canadian hospitals&#13;
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REAR-ADMIRAL MARK L. BRISTOL Who serves in the Near East in the dual capacity of commander of the American naval forces and American High Commissioner to Turkey. Admiral Bristol is one of the most influential forces in g to some semblance of order the distracted peoples of the East&#13;
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© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
RUSSELL C. LEFFINGWELL Former Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, who has recently become a partner in J. P. Morgan&amp; Company&#13;
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: ill GENERAL HENRI JOSEPH EUGENE GOURAUD Former Commander of the Fourth French Army, who commanded the Rainbow Division when it first took the offensive against the Germans in the Champagne Sector, and under whom the Americans gained their victory at Chateau Thierry. General Gouraud came to America to attend the reunion of the 42nd Division at Indianapolis in July&#13;
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The March of Events 341&#13;
The Crisis in the Harding Administration&#13;
HE President’s summer trip marks the&#13;
crisis in his political fortunes. It forms&#13;
the real test of his character as a party leader and as a statesman. It serves the purpose of emphasizing the issues between the White House and the disintegrating elements in the Republican party. These issues have been reaching a critical stage for many months. The great dividing question is whether this country is to assume a position of isolation in world affairs, or whether it is to play some part, even though a very modest one, in the great work of readjusting the shat- tered fragments of civilization.&#13;
That the assertion of any interest in Europe means something in the nature of a split in the Republican organization is now perfectly plain. In fact that dislocation has already taken place. The open breach that followed Mr. Harding’s pronouncement in favor of the World Court was only the out- ward manifestation of antagonisms that had been lying latent for a considerable time. To what extent this opposition is genuine—is based, that is, upon a reasoned opposition to American participation in European affairs— and to what extent it merely offers an op- portunity for political manoeuvrings and political ambitions, is a point upon which the commentators are divided. To the Interna- tional Court itself, there is, and can be, no sane objection; nothing less harmful could be devised. The International Court now oc- cupies the centre of the stage merely as a symbol. It forms a rallying point for the several elements in our population which, for differing reasons, oppose American participa- tion in world affairs. The Irish-Americans dislike the court because it means making the United States an associate of Great Britain. The German-Americans dislike it because it brings this country once more into alignment with its allies in the Great War. The war enthusiasts oppose it because it looks to arbi- tration, instead of gunpowder, as a means of settling international disputes; the pacifists denounce it because it does not mean the absolute prohibition of war. Certain cham- pions of the League of Nations scorn the court because it falls so far short of their chosen goal, while enemies of the League fear it because it looks like the camel’s head in the tent. Behind these several groups are the&#13;
public men—the Johnsons, the Borahs, the LaFollettes, the McCormicks—who are able to give the opposition voice and who have practically served notice upon the Administra- tion that a continuance of its policy means a split in the Republican party. THe situation is reduced to an absurdity when the responsi- ble administration, led by Mr. Harding, Mr. Hughes, and Mr. Hoover, boldly commit the party to one policy, and the party organiza- tion, led by Chairman John T. Adams, is just as boldly advocating precisely the op- posite. The spectacle of the President, tour- ing the country in the interest of the World Court, and that of the national chairman, opposed to the same institution, is without parallel in our political annals.&#13;
The Impending Republican Split&#13;
UCH a situation is of course intolerable. S It has served one great public purpose, however, in that it has clearly drawn the issue. It has divided the party, so far as its leaders are concerned, into two camps. It has presented the prospect of a vigorous party fight to one of the most peaceful and conciliatory gentlemen who has ever occupied the White House. The result of party schisms in the past is not likely to encourage so loyal and sincere a party man as Mr. Harding. Grover Cleveland’s struggle with his own party in 1892-096 delivered the party organization to Bryan and the control of the Government, in all its branches, to the Repub- licans. The Roosevelt split in 1912 resulted in eight years of Woodrow Wilson. Would a Republican division at the present time have such consequences? Mr. Harding is too good a party man not to give this matter earnest consideration; moreover it is entirely proper that he should, for a party split can have great public consequences, for good or ill. American government is party government; it is the prime duty of a President, as party leader, to hold his party intact; only great issues that deeply affect the public welfare justify the President in persisting in courses that mean its disruption. Grover Cleveland was the fighter for a great principle, a principle that rose superior to partisan consideration. It was more im-&#13;
portant, he believed, that the currency should not be debased, that the Government stamp on a dollar should mean a hundred cent, in-&#13;
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stead of a fifty cent dollar, than that the Democrats should retain their hold on the offices. He split his party on that issue and history has justified him. The merits of the Roosevelt-Taft quarrel of 1912 are not so clearly defined. Had Mr. Roosevelt foreseen what its public consequences were to be—a foreign policy with which he vigorously dis- agreed—he probably would not have caused the disruption of that year.&#13;
What is the issue that has precipitated this situation in Republican councils? If the In- ternational Court is taken as a symbol, as merely the first step whose ultimate goal is American membership in the League: of Na- tions, then the point involved is certainly one of transcendant importance. This is the con- tention and the excuse of those who are most vigorous in their opposition. Mr. Harding, however, disclaims any such purpose. He has placed himself squarely in opposition to&#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing JOHN T. ADAMS Chairman of the Republican National Committee, who&#13;
President In other words, the extra-&#13;
has loudly announced his opposition to Harding’s foreign policy.&#13;
ordinary situation has arisen in which the responsible&#13;
administration boldly commits the party to one policy&#13;
and the party organization just as boldly advocates precisely the opposite&#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
membership in the League. On that point his language could not be more emphatic. “The new Administration doesn’t propose to enter now, by the side door, the back door, or the cellar door. The Senate has so declared, the executive has so declared, the people have so declared. Noth- ing could be more decisively stamped with finality.” In his recent speaking trip he has repeated this disclaimer in even more em- phatic form.&#13;
International Court American in Origin&#13;
HAT then, is this International&#13;
Court, of which so much is heard,&#13;
but of which, judging from the horrid shape it assumes in the public mind, so little is apparently known? A little history is necessary to make the whole thing clear. The idea, after figuring for many years, even centuries, in discussion, first appeared in definite outline at the Hague Conference of 1899. Then it was first and foremost an American policy. The instructions to the American delegates enjoined them to work for a permanent Court of Arbitration. This was to be a tribunal, constantly sitting, composed of leading jurists, ready at any time to hear and decide disputes between nations—disputes always of a legal kind. There was certainly nothing un-American about such a proposal. No one suggested at the time that its effect would be to embroil the United States in European difficulties or to impose a “super-government”’ upon this country. The plan, had it been adopted, would merely have carried into practice an idea with which the United States had for a century been identified—the settlement of international disputes by arbitration rather than by war. Out of the Hague discussions of 1899 came the Permanent Court of Arbi- tration; this institution had only two de- fects; it was not permanent and it was not a court.&#13;
It was merely a panel of judges, out of which any Power could select a group to settle any pending disagreement. As a court this body has never sat; several nations, however, conspicuously the United States, have at times formed tribunals from the nominated judges. The second Hague Con- ference, that of 1907, witnessed another at- tempt to set up a permanent court, and, just&#13;
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The March of Events 343&#13;
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A MEETING AT THE HAGUE&#13;
Out of the Hague discussions of 1899 came the unsuccessful Permanent Court of Arbitration. The second Hague Conference, that of 1907, witnessed another attempt to set up a permanent court. In both these efforts the United States was a leader&#13;
as before, the leader in this effort was the United States. The plan failed, not because there was any particular hostility to the idea, but because no fair method of selecting judges could be devised. The only plan suggested for choosing these judges was an election held by the Powers represented in the Conference, not far from fifty. The trouble arose over the insistence of the small nations that they should have precisely the same voting power as the large ones. Ecuador, Uruguay, and all the other small Powers asserted the right to cast one vote, just like Great Britain, France, or the United States. The result would have been that the small South Ameri- can nations could have elected the court, and that the great Powers would have been forced to place their disputes before a tribunal which they had had practically no voice in selecting. Naturally they refused, and, as the smaller Powers were obdurate, no international court was formed. The Hague Conference of 1907, therefore, limited its action to a recommen- dation that the Permanent Court be formed as soon as some equitable plan of electing judges could be discovered. Up to the time of the outbreak of the Great War, the Powers were diligently seeking to find some way out of this dilemma, for the International Court represented a great goal which they were determined to make a realization.&#13;
Ihe League Solves the Problem&#13;
R. ELIHU ROOT, Secretary of State under Roosevelt, was the most active worker for this court in 1907; it is&#13;
therefore fitting that he should have been an important agent in creating the court which has now become a campaign issue. The pro- blem that baffled Mr. Root and others in 1907 was readily solved in 1920. The reason is that a new agency had come into existence. This was the League of Nations. In this body the signatory nations are represented in two ways —in the Council, a small body, and in the Assembly, a more comprehensive one. Mr. Root, who was a representative at the gather- ing called by the League in 1920 to organize the Permanent Court, pointed out that these two bodies formed an ideal electoral college for the selection of judges. The larger na- tions controlled the Council; the small nations controlled the Assembly; each one could therefore act as a check upon the other; a simple provision making it necessary that each judge should obtain a majority in both bodies would give assurance that he was the choice of each. -The suggestion was at once adopted. If the League of Nations had per- formed no other public service, this in itself would have been a distinct contribution to the cause of peace. It showed emphatically&#13;
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that the world at last possessed the mechanism for resolving knotty international problems, for it instantly settled a point, and settled it equitably, that had been puzzling the minds of jurists for nearly twenty years. This does not mean, however, that the League and the&#13;
Court are members of the same body. The fact is that they are entirely distinct. The International Court sits at the Hague,&#13;
whereas the League sits at Geneva; it deliber- ates in entire independence of the League. The President and the Senate jointly appoint the justices of our Supreme Court; the justices so appointed, however, are absolutely inde- pendent of the powers that have created them. The separation of the Hague Court and the League of Nations is just as complete.&#13;
Organization of the Court&#13;
HE court so established consists of fif- teen judges, eleven “ordinary’’ judges, and four deputy judges, the latter serving only in case one or more of the former are unable to appear. The ordinary judges give all their time to the court, receiving a salary of 15,000 florins a year, something&#13;
© Paul Thompson JOHN BASSETT MOORE The American jurist who occupies a seat as a member of the International Court&#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
more than $6,000. They are required to hold at least one session a year, beginning in June, and continuing until all cases on the calendar are disposed of. Extra sessions can be called in case of pressing necessity. These judges have their headquarters at the peace palace at the Hague; while sitting, they wear a simple gown much like that of the American Supreme Court; in a sense they perform for the world a function not unlike that of our Supreme Court in settling disputes among the forty- eight states. Their jurisdiction, however, is limited. It covers that class of international differences which are known as “ justiciable’’: such are those involving the interpretation of a treaty; any question of international law; the existence of any fact, which, if established, would constitute a breach of international obligation; and the nature of the reparation to be made for such breach of an international obligation.&#13;
None of these classifications, it will be observed, concern that type of international disputes which have been excluded as un- fitted for arbitration—those affecting na- tional honor or national interest. They are precisely the kind of disagreements which this country has always taken the lead in submitting to impartial tribunals. But the signatory Powers, by becoming members of this court, do not pledge themselves to submit even disputes of this kind to its ad- judication. Should the United States join, it would not commit itself to a single arbitra- tion. The organization specifically provides that our action, in each and every case, is entirely voluntary. Each party to a dispute decides, in each case, whether it will refer its differences to the court. It is true that each nation, on becoming a member, can sign a separate protocol pledging always to use the court in such disputes as those enumerated above; only fifteen of the forty-six signatories, however, have adopted this protocol, none of them being the large Powers; the administra- tion has definitely informed the Senate that it has no intention of accepting this stipulation. In other words the procedure, in submit- ting a case, is precisely the same as that provided in the several arbitration trea- ties to which this country is a party; the Senate, in each case, votes whether that case is to be submitted. Under the Inter- national Court, the Senate retains the same power.&#13;
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The March Ex-Senator Beveridge’s Error&#13;
X-SENATOR BEVERIDGE recently declaimed against the International Court on the ground that, had such&#13;
a court been in existence in 17706, the American Colonies would have lost their case against Great Britain and thus never have gained their independence. The fore- going explanation must have demonstrated the absurdity of this idea. The American Colonies in the first place would never have been a party to the court, as it is a tri- bunal of independent and equal sovereign- ties, and the American Colonies, in 1776, did not constitute a nation. Secondly, the court concerns itself only with legal questions of the kind enumerated, not those affecting the national safety and honor, and certainly any dispute affecting national independence belongs emphatically in the latter class. Thirdly, no signatory obliges itself to submit even the quarrels that fall within this re- stricted class, for its agreement to do so—en- tirely optional—must be obtained in each case. The absurdity of denouncing this kind of an organization as a “‘super-government”’ thus becomes at once apparent. This recital of its provisions rather gives point to those critics who object to the International Court be- cause its scope seems to be so limited. It is not a “court with teeth’’; it does not outlaw war. Though this objection has more force than that of the enemy who detects in it a plot to “entangle” the Nation in European af- fairs, the fact remains that the court, cir- cumscribed as it is, constitutes a great addi- tion to the world’s resources for safeguarding peace. It provides a permanent tribunal al- ways at hand to settle such disputes as the nations decide to submit. The mere exis- tence of those fifteen silk-robed justices is a constant protest against war. These men, sitting year after year, will acquire an exten- sive knowledge of international differences, and the method of accommodating them, which the temporary arbitration commissions, which are occasionally set up, can never obtain. The court will accumulate a mass of evidence, precedents and law which in time will exercise almost a determining influence in regulating the affairs of nations. Like every other human institution, the International Court must justify itself by its works. If its in- fluence is pernicious, if it promotes injustice&#13;
of Events 345&#13;
rather than justice, if it palpably strengthens certain nations at the expense of others, then mankind will turn on it in wrath and destroy it. Any signatory nation can withdraw at a moment’s notice. If, on the other hand, its effect is seen to be beneficent, if it promotes friendship and righteousness among nations, if it advances peace and discourages war, then its prestige and its power will increase. In that event it is not impossible that the nations will enlarge its responsibilities.&#13;
This court is now in complete operation. Forty-six nations have accepted it. The fact that one of the eleven “ordinary judges” is a distinguished American jurist, Mr. John Bassett Moore, despite the fact that the United States is not a party, indicates the broad minded and humanitarian lines on which it is formed. Did these judges repre- sent nations an American naturally could not sit among them. But it is the central idea of the International Court that it does not rep- resent nations; it represents the world. A particular nation does not have even to be a member in order to use its services. The United States can submit its international differences even though the Senate declines to ratify our proposed membership.&#13;
It is therefore apparent that this Interna- tional Court provides no respectable ground for a “split” in the Republican party. This court is not an outgrowth of the League of Nations; it is a direct outgrowth of the Hague Conference of 1899; its responsible parent was the Republican Administration which was in power at that time. For nearly twenty-five years it has been the policy of the Republican party. Republican platforms for that period have endorsed it, and Republican Presidents have worked for it. President Harding, in advocating the court now, is therefore preach- ing sound Republican doctrine. A group of Republicans who wish to “split” their party and discredit their President on this issue, therefore assume a_ heavy responsibility. They might as well disrupt the party because it at present stands for a protective tariff.&#13;
A Practical, Not a Political, Cure for Agricultural Troubles&#13;
R. BERNARD BARUCH’S proposal for improving the condition of the farmer is the most practical contribu- tion that has yet been made toward the solu-&#13;
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tion of perhaps the greatest problem now disturbing American life. The condition of the agricultural regions, indeed, is about ‘the only black spot on the present economic situa- tion. Prosperity is almost universal. Wages are everywhere abnormally high. The only parts of the country that are not participating in these good times are those exclusively given up to agriculture. The prosperity of other sections produces hard times on the farms, for it causes high prices for practically everything the farmer consumes, at the very time that the prices for what he produces are going down. Anything which can help to correct this situation is worthy of the most serious attention, and any citizen with a plan that promises relief should at least enjoy the reward of having his proposals tested on their merits.&#13;
The main difficulty is the decreasing prices of farm products. All solutions have taken the shape of plans for co6perative marketing. Politicians and unscrupulous journalists may give the farmer many explanations for his plight, in which the railroads and Wall Street and the Grain Exchanges come in for the chief blame, but the economists know that the main trouble is that the farmer produces more than the market can consume. At the present time he is selling far more than in any pre-war year; the great war demand caused a tremendous increase in the products of Amer- ican farms; this increased demand is rapidly coming down to normal, and the farmer therefore has great stores for which there is no market. This is the main difficulty in the agricultural regions. Any attempt to better it must lie in the direction of increasing the market. Most authorities believe that an effective system of codperative marketing would aid this process, and Mr. Baruch’s proposal seeks to accomplish this. He pro- poses that the wheat farmers use a sales organization of an extremely practical and experienced type; the very one, indeed, which they have not regarded for years with a particularly friendly eye; none other than the Armour Grain Company, of Chicago. What- ever may be urged against this organization, it at least possesses one qualification; it knows how to buy and sell the output of the farm.&#13;
It has been doing this very thing with great success for many years. Its head, Mr.&#13;
George G. Marcy, is perhaps the most expert Its force of sales-&#13;
grain man in the country.&#13;
_ usually proved to be mere nostrums.&#13;
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men have developed an exceptional technique and know the business as no extemporized group of farmers can know it for years. If thirty-five per cent. of the wheat acreage can be induced to join in gaining possession of the Armour Company and employ its experts for the purpose of selling its crops, Mr. Baruch believes that the result will be higher prices and new prosperity in the agricultural states. Objections in plenty will probably be raised against this, and not improbably the good faith of those associated will be questioned. Such an attitude is inevitable, even though it is not intelligent. Fortunately Mr. Baruch, who sponsors this plan, enjoys the confidence of the agricultural regions, and that fact in itself will prove a strong recommendation. The greatest danger of the present situation is political. In the past, the difficulties of the farmers have furnished opportunities to demagogues who have used them as stepping stones to political power, and whose cures have Mr. Baruch’s proposal—to which he is by no means wedded, for he stands ready to accept any better plan for marketing that may win the confidence of the farmers—has at least the advantage of being practical and not political in its nature. It aims, not to change the form of our government or to extend its func- tions into fields where it does not belong, but to help the wheat farmer to obtain good prices for his crops.&#13;
Forcing Prohibition in Foreign Countries&#13;
of prohibition has become entangled with&#13;
an issue which, in reality, has no connec- tion with it, that of alcoholic drinks on foreign ships. The Supreme Court has decided that American sovereignty completely covers the three miles of water that surrounds American soil; that the laws of Congress are as com- pletely enforceable in these waters as on Amer- ican dry land; consequently that foreign ships must obey the Volstead Act, which means that they cannot bring within these waters alcoholic drinks for beverage purposes, even though they are kept under seal. As to the legal accuracy of this ruling there seems to be no question. It is good law, and foreign steamship lines must obey it, until Congress sees fit, if it ever does, so to amend the Vol- stead Act that these foreign ships may be&#13;
|’ IS unfortunate that the general subject&#13;
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relieved of what is, after all, a great in- justice.&#13;
The decision, as already said, raises an issue apart from prohibition; the reason is that prohibition is an American system. The United States, after mature consideration, has decided to prohibit alcoholic drinks on its own territory. That is the business of the United States, with which other countries properly have no quarrel. But no other country has adopted this system. In particu- lar Great Britain, France, and Italy have not done so. Their decision on this point is ex- clusively their own business, with which the United States has no concern. Any attempt we might make to force these friendly nations to adopt prohibition would be an outrageous act, and would have serious consequences. The most enthusiastic advocate of prohibition would not suggest such an interference in their domestic affairs. Unfortunately this is pre- cisely what the Volstead Act does indirectly. The foreign ships have a legal right to dis- pense drinkables from their own shore to the American three mile limit. The recent ruling makes no attempt to interfere with that right. But these same ships also have the legal right to dispense drinkables on the eastern voyage, from the American three mile limit to their home port. The recent decision prevents them from exercising this right. It forces the American prohibitory law into territory in which American jurisdiction does not prevail. Practically the Volstead Act, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, extends itself over foreign territory. Legal as this is, it is an unwarranted violation of that comity that should prevail among all nations. If the British Parliament should pass a law obliging American ships to sell alcoholic beverages within the British three mile limit it would have the legal right to do so, but such a law would be resented, and properly resented, in this country.&#13;
The one solution is a change in the Volstead Act permitting foreign ships to seal their wet cargo when entering the three mile limit, with the stipulation that it shall not be unsealed until the vessels have passed the same limit on the eastern voyage. This would insure the per- fect enforcement of the Prohibition Amend- ment in American territory. It would leave the question of European prohibition where it naturally belongs—at the discretion of those countries themselves.&#13;
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The March of Events 347&#13;
The Law-Defying Trust in the Coal Industry?&#13;
T WOULD be the part of wisdom if dur-&#13;
| ing the summer the young man’s fancy&#13;
and the old man’s also turned to thought;&#13;
of coal. It is time for the householder and in-&#13;
dustry as well to make as certain of its winter’s&#13;
supply as is possible with an enterprise in which strikes are a normal part of business.&#13;
It is beginning to appear that one of the chief reasons why strikes are so persistent in the coal business is that the United Mine Workers of America have set out to acquire a monopoly of coal mine labor in this country. This attempt of the union to gain a monopoly is of very particular interest to the public in several ways. To begin with, during the process of the monopolistic campaign the householders and the industries of the country are likely every once in a while to be treated to shortage if not suffering. In the second place, the union’s campaign seems to be setting up an extraordinary precedent of lawlessness, much more serious, for example, than the Ku Klux Klan. In the third place, if the union succeeds, the public will be faced with the long, hard, and costly task of breaking this trust just as it broke other trusts in the trust busting days. This struggle will be costly and bitter, for as arrogant and selfish as the industrial trusts were in their worst days they never so blatantly advised the public to be damned as have the United Mine Workers.&#13;
The most serious aspect of the whole matter is not the cost of strikes nor the ultimate cost to the consumer if the United Mine Workers’ monopoly succeeds, but the blows which this union has struck—and so far successfully— at popular government.&#13;
The bituminous operators have submitted to the United States Government’s Coal Fact Finding Commission a series of briefs taken chiefly from court records. These show that in the Mine Workers’ campaign for a mono- poly they rely chiefly upon the check-off, an in- voluntary system of collecting dues and assess- ments, and on armed warfare and corruption.&#13;
The ‘Check-off’”” System&#13;
HE “‘check-off”’ is a system by which the union forces the coal-mining companies to deduct from each miner’s wages all&#13;
dues and assessments of the union before the miner gets his money. These dues and assess-&#13;
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ments are paid to the union. The legality of this system of involuntary payment of dues has been questioned in the courts. Its result is to give the United Mine Workers a fund of be- tween $15,000,000 and $20,000,000 a year with which to push their campaign. One of the uses to which they put this money is arm- ing and equipping of irregular forces with which they endeavor to enforce and extend their monopoly. The Herrin massacre was part of this programme. About twenty men were murdered in cold blood. Some, after being wounded, were forced to crawl on their knees through the town of Herrin and then, with ropes around their necks, were taken to the cemetery and shot. After this the union raised $900,000 in Illinois and with this money defeated the ends of justice so that not one man was punished for this crime. Nor is this an isolated instance. The briefs of the bitumi- nous operators show that this is one example of many in which the union employs guerrilla warfare to achieve its objects with complete indifference to state and national constitu- tions, the common law, or the rights of man.&#13;
These are most serious charges based chiefly on records of various courts. These charges are before the Coal Fact Finding Commission authorized by Congress and ap- pointed by the President of the United States.&#13;
The public has a right to expect that this commission will investigate the attempted monopoly, the “ check-off’’, which is the basis of it, and the warfare by which it is pushed.&#13;
If the bituminous operators’ briefs are true, the public will not expect an agency of the United States Government to deal with an organization a part of whose policy it is hab- itually to defy the law. And if the operators have done similar things, the public will expect that their conduct shall be equally exposed.&#13;
From any proper view these questions are far more fundamental and important than the price of coal. They strike at the funda- mentals of our government. They are the test of the real courage and patriotism of this commission.&#13;
The Last Appearance of Richard Croker&#13;
CURIOUS proceeding in Ireland is chiefly interesting to Americans for the light which it sheds upon their own political history. The children of the late Richard Croker have protested his will—&#13;
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unsuccessfully. The facts which are mainly important to Americans are two: firstly, that there should have been any will to protest, or, more accurately, that the amount should have involved several millions; secondly, that the contest should have taken place in Ireland. To the students of democracy these circum- stances are almost appalling.&#13;
Who was this Richard Croker, this man who, after an apparently temporary sojourn in the United States, was able to return with great accumulations to the country of his birth, and there lead the quiet and elegant life of a country gentleman? In what way did he heap up the fortune which has made this sordid post-mortem appearance in an Irish court? Most of our great American millionaires have some business or profession or productive lifework which they can show for the great reward that fate has given them. What public service did Richard Croker perform? What return did he make to the American community that had treated him so generously?&#13;
The facts of his career, so far as they are known, do not satisfactorily answer these queries. These facts are simply stated. The man was born in Ireland in 1843, came with his immigrating parents to America when a child, spent a brief time in the New York pub- lic schools, learned the trade of a machinist, and became a volunteer fireman. These plain biographical details, however, do not adequately picture the man. Croker’s great distinction, as a young man, was physical prowess. He was exceedingly clever and formidable with his fists. It was the time of the famous Irish gangs—a phase of New York life which no longer exists; Croker was the leader of the so-called “ Fourth Avenue Tun- nel Gang.” Leadership of this sort in those feudal days meant political power; Croker early joined his fortunes to Tammany Hall and became a conspicuous figure at elections. Election methods in those days were also primitive, for Tammany had a variety of ways of making the hesitant citizen vote in the way that would do the most good. Secret ballots were unknown. Intimidations and physical pummellings were far more effective than abstract argument; one method especi- ally lingers in the memory; the newly made voter, standing in line at the polls, would sometimes find immediately in his rear a Tammany worker who would deftly inject&#13;
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The March of Events 349&#13;
an awl or other sharp instrument into his person at any indication of independent political thinking. Shooting affrays were not infrequent. The New York public first learned of Richard Croker when he was ar- rested on a charge of murder. The trial wasa long and famous one; Croker, however, was acquitted, and in 1886 he succeeded John Kelly as leader of Tammany Hall. He held this post until 1902, when he retired to a country estate in Ireland, weighed down with the for- tune which has formed the subject of the re- cent litigation. Since 1890 Croker had held no salary paying job, and had engaged in no business.&#13;
The mere recital of these facts is sufficient. As to the kind of city government New York enjoyed during the Croker dictatorship the historical student needs only to consult the several legislative investigations held. The Lexow hearings of 1892 and the Mazet hear- ings of 1899 tell the story. Yet this Croker episode is not entirely discouraging. It represents an inevitable and passing phase of evolving democracy. Croker typifies the period when New York was a frontier com- munity, with all the evils and vices, as well as all the energy and vitality, that compose such a primitive state of society. To a certain extent New York is still a frontier camp, yet it is not likely that, conspicuous as are its present political faults, it would endure another Croker now.&#13;
Common Sense in American Embassies&#13;
ERTAIN Congressmen have selected rather an unfavorable moment for at- tacking the plan to provide an appro-&#13;
priate architectural setting for the American diplomatic service. Congressman Madden in particular has launched his phillipic at the precise moment when the new home for the American Ambassador in London is nearly completed. This embassy—the first the American Government has ever owned in this capital—is a modest but entirely dignified structure at No. 13 &amp; 14 Prince’s Gate, Knightsbridge, for many years the London home of the late ]. Pierpont Morgan, and the gift of the latter’s son to the American people. When the alterations are finished, the Ameri- can Ambassador to Great Britain will no longer be homeless, but will possess a definite and permanent address.&#13;
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THE LATE RICHARD CROKER Who, after holding the position of leader of Tammany Hall for years, and amassing a considerable fortune, proved that his sojourn in America was but temporary by returning to the land of his birth and leading the quiet and elegant life of a country ‘“‘gentleman’’. AlI- though once arrested and tried for murder, he was acquitted after a long trial, and not long thereafter became the head of Tammany Hall. Through his Tammany affiliations he acquired his fortune&#13;
Congressman Madden objects to larger allowances to ambassadors in the interest of democratic simplicity; he wants no ostenta- tion in the ambassadorial establishment, but that quiet and dignity which are the mor2 fitting qualities of the representative of a great republic. In this ambition all good Americans join. There is one way, however, in which it can never be realized, and that is the failure to provide adequate allowances. The present niggardly policy produces the most extravagant display in the American diplomatic service. Most of the American Ambassadors in Europe for the last half cen- tury have been rich men, sometimes mere millionaires who have shocked both Euro- peans and Americans by the lavish scale on which they have lived. The reason is that a poor man could not accept the post. Oc- casionally men of modest means have done so, and have spent in two or three years the entire accumulation of a lifetime. A recent&#13;
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THE NEW AMERICAN EMBASSY IN LONDON&#13;
Formerly the London home of the late J. Pierpont&#13;
Morgan and recently presented to the United States&#13;
Government by J. Pierpont Morgan, Jr. The house is&#13;
now being remodeled, and will shortly be officially oc- cupied&#13;
American Ambassador at an _ important European capital informed his friends, when he accepted the appointment, that he had saved about $150,000 in a lifetime of hard work, that he would retain his post as long as his little fortune lasted, and that then he would be obliged to return home.&#13;
For the most part, however, ambassadors have been rich, and that democratic simpli- city for which Congressman Madden yearns has been painfully absent in their manner of life. The problem is not a difficult one. No sensible American believes that American Ambassadors and Ministers should draw fabulous salaries and live in magnificent governmentally supported palaces. The pro- per scale is suggested by the way we treat our Presidents. The White House is the ideal residence of the head of a great and prosperous republic—far more so than the gorgeous structure America could build had it the inclination. The salary and allowances made the President, enable him to live in that dignity and simplicity which comport with his exalted station. This is the model for the&#13;
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treatment that should be accorded the Presi- dent’s personal representatives at the great capitals of the world. First a decent and spacious house, well but not ostentatiously furnished. The salary at present paid— $17,000—need not be changed, but an al- lowance for maintaining the ambassadorial position, perhaps $35,000 a year, should be provided. This allowance should in no sense ke made part of the salary; it should be used only as an expense account, and any unused part should revert to the public treasury. There is a danger in giving our diplomatic representatives huge salaries; the places would be likely to become political plums, with all the demoralization that this would imply. A stipulation that the money could be used only for embassy purposes, and that the unused part should not become the per- quisite of the ambassador, would forestall any such demoralization.&#13;
The fact is that no ambassador at one of the great capitals can live in simple decency on less than $50,000 a year. The American Am- bassador in London, for example, is obliged to give a reception on the Fourth of July to all the Americans resident in that town. Even though he feeds them only sandwiches and coffee, the function costs him not far from $2,000; and this is only one of an infinite num- ber of expenditures which custom demands of him. A total budget of $50,o00o—including salary and allowances—would enable him to fulfil his duty with all the dignity and modesty that his position makes necessary. Then poor men as well as rich could accept such appointments and the ability and character of the diplomatic service would consequently improve.&#13;
Self Improvement of the Motion Pictures&#13;
HE Committee on Public Relations&#13;
of the Motion Picture Producers and&#13;
Distributors of America, Inc., has made progress in its work. This Committee is one of Mr. Will Havs’s enterprises, and is under the immediate direction of Mr. Jason Joy. Its purpose is to arrive at a real co6per- tion between the film producers and a sym- pathetic body of representatives of the churches, the schools, labor, business, anc other public organizations. These represen- tatives view the pictures before they are dis- tributed, and give their opinion of their merits&#13;
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and faults. section of the intelligent public opinion of the country, and their counsel has won the respect of the producers and thereby is sensi- bly affecting their methods in the making of&#13;
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films. The Committee has wisely accepted the fact that motion picture producers are engaged in a commercial enterprise and that they must please their audiences, whose de- mand is chiefly for diversion. They have, therefore, criticised only where a picture was misleading or corrupting, and here they are gradually bringing the producers to see that clean and accurate films are sound business.&#13;
One example of the Committee’s influence is noteworthy. “The Covered Wagon” is a great commercial success. It is a story based on the historical f{=cts of the opening of the Oregon Trail. As originally written, the scenario introduced Kit Carson as a principal figure in the plot. Historically, this was an error. Also, it revealed Kit sharing in some unwholesome bar-room scenes. The Com- mittee pointed out to the producers the evil of consciously distorting history, and the scen- ario was re-arranged to substitute another character. From a commercial viewpoint, this seemed a great risk, as the producers relied on Kit Carson’s reputation to aid in the illusion of the story. The Committee also pointed out that Kit Carson was a patron saint of the Boy Scouts, and that he should not be represented in scenes tending to lower the ideal of his character in theireyes. “The Covered Wagon,” as finally produced, elimin- ated these objectionable elements, and was nevertheless a sensational commercial success —an object lesson to the producers that will doubtless draw them closer than before to the opinion of the Committee.&#13;
The Committee has not stopped with merely negative criticism, helpful though that is. It has realized that it must provide a quid pro quo for such criticism. It has, therefore, made a policy of urging its consti- tuent organizations to announce their ap- proval of pictures which are regarded as repres- entative of what, in their judgment, pictures of each type should be, and this positive com- mendation is given publicity through many channels which amount to free advertising of pictures that deserve it. This approval has a tangible commercial value, and that also tends to make the producers prize the good opinion of the Committee.&#13;
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By this method, more has been accom- plished in the direction of good films that can possibly be done by legal censorship. The professional censor is seldom wise, rarely representative, and is, in the nature of his task, a nuisance to those whom he is presumed to correct and a poor servant of those whom he is presumed to serve. The Committee on Pub- lic Relations, being widely representative, brings to bear a sounder view of the public interest, and, its work being done without coercion, is more influential with the producers. In the long run, it promises a genuine coép- eration, which should produce a genuine im- provement in the quality of the motion pictures.&#13;
How to Lose Foreign Markets&#13;
F THE United States is to level out the | valleys of periodic depression in the curve of its business cycles and is to keep its factories and farms steadily and fully oc- cupied,’’ says Mr. Julius Klein, director of the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce, “the maintenance of permanent foreign out- lets must be assured regardless of fluctuations in domestic market conditions. It does not improve the standing of America’s business abroad to have the first sign of better domestic trade bring about the immediate abandon- ment of all interest in those foreign contacts which had been hailed with such joy and solici- tous regard during the dark days of 1921.” Unhappily, despite the lessons of the war and the ensuing cycle of prosperity and de- pression, the American business man in foreign trade remains too frequently the spoiled child. In a number of important cases, Mr. Klein says, “the accumulated assets of good will and experience are likely to be thrown away over night and squandered by a reversion to those haphazard, spasmodic policies—or ut- ter lack of policies—which had been the most serious handicap to our commercial progress abroad before the war.’ One firm, which had been courting foreign trade during the lean years, curtly refused “a six-figure order because ‘they were too busy with domestic demands.’”’ Another suddenly abolished its&#13;
export department, which had been labori- ously built up by a faithful foreign staff, with the explanation that “home markets are once more sufficient to take care of our entire out- put.”&#13;
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352 The World’s Work&#13;
Frequently home offices display an utter lack of tact in dealing not only with their foreign customers but with their own sales- men. Sometimes this failing is complicated by red tape. One such company now “finds itself obliged to pay many thousands of dol- lars in additional customs duties because it refused to relax its stock-movement policy and to rush through certain emergency shipments to anticipate an increase in tariffs in a foreign country.” Some companies hamper their business by failing to trust their representa- tives as they should in matters of credit. A serious fault is failure to abide by announced price lists. Another is a failure or refusal to adjust prices to the prevailing market levels. Not so serious, perhaps, yet important in the long run, is the omission of small courtesies in correspondence. “A closing sentence such as, ‘We want to thank you on behalf of our firm for the courtesies that you were kind enough to extend to our Mr. White on his recent visit to your city’, or ‘We wish to ex- tend to you and your good family our cordial&#13;
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© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
JULIUS KLEIN&#13;
Director of the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce&#13;
Christmas greetings and best wishes for the New Year’ would,” Mr. Klein thinks, “be an important factor in the creation of good will.”&#13;
Perhaps the “business-is-business”’ atti- tude has done more harm than good to Amer- ican foreign trade. For business, besides being business, is a system of human relations which cannot and ought not to be reduced to a soulless routine, and which involves much more than the getting of orders and taking of profit. This is a lesson that might be applied at home as well as abroad. Where it has been applied it has justified itself financially, besides adding to the urbanity of daily existence.&#13;
A Negro Who Had Made Good&#13;
HE Spingarn medal, awarded each&#13;
year to “the man or woman of African&#13;
descent and American citizenship who during the year shall have made the highest achievement in any field of human endeavor,” goes this year to Professor George W. Carver, director of agricultural research and chemistry at the Tuskegee normal and industrial insti- tute. That Professor Carver is not alto- gether unworthy of this distinction isevidenced by the list of his achievements. Professor Carver has discovered 145 different foods or useful articles which may be made from the peanut and 107 which may be made from the sweet potato; he has made potash and stock feed with the aid of the chinaberry; he has demonstrated the uses of okra fibre for rope, cordage, mats, and carpets; he has made furni- ture stains from native clays and vegetables; and dyes from dandelion, black oak, wood ashes, sweet gum, willow, swamp-maple, and numerous other native growths; he has used the native clays for washes and scouring pow- ders; and in.many other ways demonstrated what. may be done with materials lying, liter- aily in Alabama’s back yard.&#13;
Not all these suggestions may prove com- mercially feasible, yet they indicate a racial genius devoted to practical ends which ren of all races must admire. Professor Carver is as good an example as could be found of the economic value to the South of the liberated and enlightened Negro. The committee mak- ing the award included Bishop John Hurst, Theodore Roosevelt, Dr. James H. Dillard, Oswald Garrison Villard, Dr. E. E. B. Du Bois, Dorothy Canfield Fisher, and Dr. John Roe&#13;
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The March of Events 353&#13;
SE Ue,&#13;
palais SR oO Che eter mee me «&#13;
| rf PPR err ccc&#13;
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CHILDREN IN THE COTTON MILLS&#13;
Formerly there was much criticism of the number of children employed in the cotton mills. This number has greatly decreased, and now the farms are the worst offenders against children&#13;
It is interesting to note that in addition to recognizing Professor Carver’s _ scientific achievements, they declared that his “clear thought and straightforward attitude have greatly increased inter-racial knowledge and respect.”&#13;
The Present Situation in Child Labor&#13;
, | SO THE casual reader child labor and the textile industry are probably al- most synonymous. How wide this is&#13;
of the truth is shown in an instructive bulletin&#13;
recently issued by the Federal Children’s&#13;
Bureau. In 1920, when the last census was&#13;
taken, more than a million children between&#13;
10 and 15 years of age were “‘engaged in gain-&#13;
ful occupations” (as the census reports euphe-&#13;
mistically put it), .to which must be added an uncertain number under ten years of age, most of whom were engaged in farming. Of the total recorded number more than half&#13;
(569,824) were at work on their home farms,&#13;
and 66,990 others were hired out as farm&#13;
laborers. Manufacturing and mechanical in-&#13;
dustries required 185,337, of whom 54,649&#13;
were employed in textile mills, and 21,875 in&#13;
the cotton mills alone. Mining employed&#13;
7,191, transportation 18,912, “public service’’&#13;
1,130, “professional service” 3,465, domestic&#13;
and personal service 54,006, and clerical&#13;
occupations 80,140. The record therefore shows that the greatest sinners in the matter of child labor are not the cities and industrial centres, but the farms. To most Americans this fact will probably come as something of a surprise and a shock.&#13;
If a general average of all industrial occupa- tions is taken, the South is the principal of- fender against childhood. In the whole United States about one in 12 of all children between 10 and 15 is at work; in Alabama, Mississippi, and South Carolina about one in every 4; in Georgia one in 5. Sixteen and six tenths per cent. of North Carolina’s children are wage earners, 18.5 per cent. of Arkansas’s; 13.4 per cent. of Rhode Island’s. Several Southern states, however, stand lower in the scale (or. higher in the measure of humanity) than Rhode Island. These are Delaware, Maryland, Florida, Kentucky, Tennessee, Louisiana, Oklahoma, Texas, and West Vir- ginia. West Virginia’s percentage is 3.9 or not much more than half the average for New England. The Western states, as might be expected, have comparatively little in- dustrial child labor, although Arizona’s per- centage is 7.1.&#13;
If the non-agricultural occupations are segregated, “the proportion is considerably larger for New England and for the Middle Atlantic states, and slightly larger for the&#13;
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354&#13;
East North Central states—Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and -Wisconsin—than for any of the three southern geographic divi- sions.” In other words the South is not the centre of industrial child labor. Among cities of more than 100,000 population Fall River with 18 per cent. of its children employed and the old whaling town of New Bedford, with 17 per cent., head (or perhaps it would be better to say foot) the list. The decline in the number of children employed in the textile industries during the last ten years has been almost wholly in the South, where, the children bureaus report, “considerable advance was made in child-labor and educa- tion laws, and where the effects of the Federal laws were especially marked.”&#13;
Child labor is thus not a sectional problem. Whether in the mills of North Carolina or Rhode Island, the coal mines of Pennsylvania, or the sugar beet fields of California and Colorado, it reflects the technical condition of industry and agriculture and the social and economic standards of the population. Wher- ever the labor of children is profitable to employers, or wherever the existence of the so-called “family wage”’ makes it seem neces- sary, children are sure to be put to work. The remedies are partly legal, partly technical, and partly social. The raising of adult wages in parasitic industries—that is, in those which do not provide the male wage earner with enough to support an average family—is apparently essential. To accomp- lish this, new machinery and methods of&#13;
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production may be called for, yet this is surely not a task beyond the capacity of the sup- posedly ingenious American employer. It is not so difficult a problem, certainly, as that created by the curtailment of. education and opportunity, and the probable shortening of working life, which go with child labor.&#13;
Whether there was a decisive permanent gain in the fight against this evil between 1920 and 1923 remains, surprising as the statement may seem, somewhat in doubt. Between 1910 and 1920 the number of children em- ployed in the United States decreased by 46.7 per cent., or almost half, and the number between the ages of 10 and 13, by 57.8 per cent. Unfortunately for the accuracy of these figures as bearing upon present condi- tions, the census of 1920 was taken in January at nearly the lowest point of an industrial depression. Since January, 1920, the revival of business and the abrogation of the Federal child labor law have doubtless added greatly to the number of children at work.&#13;
State laws dealing with the terms and conditions’ under which children may be employed were not, of course, affected by the suspension of the Federal law. It is un- fortunate that Federal legislation in this field has depended upon so debatable a constitu- tional principle as the use of taxation as a means of destroying. Apparently the evil can be permanently abolished only by means of a constjtutional amendment. Inthe mean- time the stirring of the national conscience ought to make itself felt-in state legislatures.&#13;
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CHILDREN&#13;
IN THE SUGAR BEET FIELDS&#13;
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Manufacturing states have reduced the number of children employed in the industries,&#13;
but many agricultural states still permit the wholesale employment of children on farms&#13;
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The March of Events 355&#13;
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THE “INCONCEIVABLY PLEASANT” HOME LIFE OF NEW YORKERS This photograph shows that section of New York north of 44th Street and east of Seventh Avenue. It is crowded with apartments and hotels, and that section shown in the distance running along the east side of Central Park is filled with apartments the rents for which are probably the highest in the world&#13;
More and more such states as Rhode Island and North Carolina should find themselves in bad standing if they allow their industries or their farms to rob children of their birth- right.&#13;
The New Yorker’s ‘Inconceivably Pleasant”? Home Life&#13;
HAT scant.ninety or ninety-five mil-&#13;
lions of Americans who live outside&#13;
the metropolitan area of New York City can secure an edifying glimpse at certain aspects of urban.concentration at its height by glancing at the Sunday real estate sections of the New York newspapers. Let us take the choice bits of the apartment renting list of a well-known firm. Its lowest offer is three rooms and bath, unfurnished, for $1,400 a year, and the top price in this particular list is twelve rooms for $10,000 a year. These, it must be remembered, are bargains. A cer- tain apartment building on East Eighty-sixth street “ provides with incomparable excellence a new mode of dwelling that enables you to do as little or as much housekeeping as you de- sire.” The rent for two rooms and a kitchen- ette here runs from $1,500 to $2,000, a typical rental in parts of town that would seem desirable to a small-city person with a&#13;
total income of about twice that much. If the small-city person required as much room as he was used to at home, he would have to pay two or three times the figures given.&#13;
He might choose to simplify his existence by renting an unfurnished apartment in an apartment hotel, for which he would pay | from $700 to $1,400 annually for each room. “The reason for the apartment hotel, in general,’ says an advertisement depicting the charms of this solution of the housing problem, “is the growing desire of apartment house dwellers for a better way to live—a way that will eliminate work, waste, and worry, assure more living service, more com- forts and conveniences, and, at the end of the year, prove more economical in money. : The millions of dollars invested in these splendid apartment hotels is a most practical expression of the demand for a Better Way to Live. The advantages they offer are very practical and humanly appealing. Fhey give you a home life inconceivably pleasant.”&#13;
But the home seeker may be unable to live in such undoubted Elysiums, or to pay the $3,000 or $4,000 needed for a comfortable amount of space in a reasonably clean and quiet neighborhood between Washington Square, and, roughly speaking, Washington&#13;
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356&#13;
Heights. He may, then, take refuge in the Bronx, or in the wilderness of apartments at the northeast end of Manhattan island, which he will reach after a ride of from forty minutes to an hour in an indecently and inhumanly crowded subway car, where his children will still, in most cases, be compelled to play in the streets. Here he will pay $20 per room a month, or a little more, or a little less. He may decide, after enduring this Purgatory for a time, to commute into New Jersey or Long Island, where he may buy a roomy house in a good neighborhood for between $10,000 and $20,000; or an especially well-built house in a preferred neighborhood for $30,000 and up. Even if he chooses to remain in the city, he will want to send his wife and children out of town for a part of the summer. If he rents a humble furnished cottage within commuting distance, he will be lucky to pay as little as $700 for a season’s use of it.&#13;
Whether he elects to live in the city or out- side, our middle-class home-seeker cannot work out a perfectly satisfactory mode of life. The disadvantages of the city are obvious; they include noise, dirt, crowds, and the scarcity of safe places for children to play. Most children in New York City find their playgrounds in the streets. A minority get into the parks; a still smaller minority are sent to expensive private schools, where their play activities are taken care of. If the city man commutes, he may leave his family in attrac- tive and healthful surroundings (although not all suburban communities are rustic paradises), but he himself must undergo not less than two hours each day of nerve-wrack- ing labor—for commuting is probably about the hardest work a city office man does—in addition to his regular job. Unless he is a man of unusual energy and buoyancy he will find himself too much exhausted, after his return home, for study or for the ordinary decencies of social life. Commuting is not, of course, peculiar to New York, but there is no city in the country where it is done under such extraordinarily trying conditions.&#13;
This burden of discomfort and expense increases—or, to put it in another way, the value of the New Yorker’s dollars, measured in terms of well-being, decreases—year by year. Such are the diminishing returns of metropolitan life. The point has passed, for middle-class people, when such aggregations of population as Greater New York were&#13;
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worth what they cost; and if the middle-class New Yorker has lost out, what of the less for- tunate?&#13;
The citizen of San Francisco, Seattle, Den- ver, Indianapolis, Atlanta, or Cleveland may well congratulate himself on having most of the advantages of city life, with few of the advantages under which the supposedly fortunate New Yorker labors. Perhaps these advantages of the smaller city more than compensate, for ninety-nine people out of a hundred, for the added glamour and the occasional supreme opportunity of life in New York. The situation suggests that it is time to draw a more careful line, not between rural and urban populations, but between urban populations which have, and those which have not, passed the point of diminish- ing returns. This is a task for the sociologist, to whose efforts must be added those of the engineer and industrialist.&#13;
In the meantime it might be a wholesome symptom in American life if the resident of the smaller cities would realize that the op- portunity to build up a truly American cul- ture is more open to him than to the New Yorker, and would then act upon that realiza- tion. The very congestion of the greater city makes for a species of barbarism unfriendly to the more delicate flowers of life and the arts. For them we must look elsewhere than on the island of Manhattan.&#13;
Cathedrals and the Modern World&#13;
OR those philosophic minds that see modern life in its historic perspective&#13;
there is a certain incongruity between two ecclesiastical developments which have recently taken up much space in the public press. Practically all churches, except the Roman Catholic, are now profoundly stirred on the question of creed and dogma. The lessening grip of old-fashioned faith is the pre- vailing religious symptom of the time. The convictions long regarded as essential to a Christian life are rapidly being dispensed with. A New York clergyman of Episcopal ordination has paraded from the Sunday pul- pit his disbelief in most of the formal doctrines of that church and practically challenged the Bishop to remove him, a challenge which the Bishop has declined to accept. The Presby- terian Church has publicly proclaimed several dogmas as indispensable to membership, yet&#13;
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THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE DIVINE IN NEW YORK As it will appear when it is completed. This structure was begun in 1872, and is now only partially&#13;
built.&#13;
many of the leading Presbyterian pulpits of the Nation have rung with denunciation of this injunction and have announced their in- tention of defying it. Many men who pub- licly affirm their disbelief in the Virgin birth of Christ and in His resurrection are admitted to ordination. There is nothing especially new in all this; the conflict of religion and science has been acutely active for more than fifty years; recent events, however, have focussed attention upon an ancient con- troversy, and the appearance of certain lively champions of the two schools of thought has given the subject personality and emphasis. Whatever emotions may be aroused, one fact is apparent; the age of faith has gone. Out of it all something finer may emerge, but that&#13;
unquestioning and satisfied acceptance of - fundamental truth, another name for faith, no longer controls the modern world.&#13;
The other fact is the new zeal for cathedrals in the Episcopal Church. Some months ago the Washington Diocese announced plans for&#13;
Recently an appeal for $15,000,000 has been made in order that-the church may be completed&#13;
a cathedral at the national capitol, vast in its size and magnificent in its architecture. The New York Diocese has recently issued an appeal for $15,000,000 to finish the great Cathedral of St. John the Divine, a beautiful structure which was begun so long ago as 1872. There are probably few Americans who would not like to see these enterprises succeed. Beautiful things are one of the greatest needs of the American democracy at this moment, and monuments that symbolize the elevation of the human spirit add an inestimable qual- ity to American life. Few will therefore see any incongruity between the religious think- ing of this era and its architecture. The one thing that the cathedral solemnly emblazons is religious faith. Like faith itself, it belongs to the Middle Ages. The great medizval edifices were the expressions of a time that knew not the higher criticism, that did not disturb itself over the contradictions of the Bible, that did not attempt to explain the miracles of the New Testament on scientific grounds. These&#13;
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things were as much realities as the rising and the setting of the sun. There was no conflict between science and religion, for there was no science; possibly there was no religion—but there was certainly faith. The great cathe- drals stand in Europe the silent witnesses of the complete confidence and childlike belief of their creators in the simple and under- standable God who watched over their daily lives, who remorselessly punished the wicked and abundantly rewarded the good. Is there not some spiritual inconsistency in a great and beautiful cathedral on the Hudson, standing alongside Columbia University, an intellectual kingdom in which Darwin reigns supreme?&#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
Making Mexico Literate&#13;
OME years ago advocates of American intervention in Mexican affairs used to divert attention from the less agree-&#13;
able aspects of their scheme by pointing to the advantages which the “little red school house,’’ arriving with the American occupa- tion, might be expected to bring. Experience in the Philippines has shown that these ex- pectations were well founded. However, it is pleasant to learn that Mexico has realized her own problem and is going at it in her own way, without the support of American bay- onets. A committee formed last year under the Department of Public Education, with Sefiorita Eulalia Guzm4n at its head, organized classes under volunteer teachers last year, in which 50,000 adults were taught to read and write Spanish. It is hoped that many more will be reached this year. Classes “may be held in the home, the garden, or some public place, and may consist of one or more illiterates wish- ful of acquiring the rudi- ments of education in the language of their country.” Thecentral committee issues certificates to the volunteer instructors and also fur- nishes such material as may be required. Citizens who cannot give personal service are urged to help by giving financial aid to private edu- cational institutions, by founding new schools, by organizing educational so- cieties, by founding or con- tributing to public libraries, and by financing scholar- ships.&#13;
“The committee is plan- ning a national literacy day,” says a statement of Sefiorita Guzman, “when,&#13;
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AN INTERIOR VIEW OF THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE DIVINE&#13;
As it now is.&#13;
The Episcopal Diocese of New York is endeavoring to raise the necessary money with which to complete this structure, and recently the Wash- ington Diocese announced plans for a cathedral at the national capital, vast in its size and magnificent in its architecture&#13;
throughout the entire Re- public, teachers and pupils will assemble in the centres of population. In this an-&#13;
nual festival well-deserved&#13;
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A SCHOOL IN MEXICO&#13;
For many years observers of Mexico have pointed to the need for schools, and at last the Mexican Government seems to have seen the necessity for them&#13;
recognition and honor will be given to those who have rendered this noble and truly patri- otic service, not only to their country but to the entire race, inspiring us with renewed courage to continue our crusade until its ulti- mate purpose—a literate Mexico—has been achieved.”&#13;
The task of abolishing illiteracy in Mexico is a formidable one, and the work already ac- complished is only a beginning. It is only in such efforts as this, however, that there is any hope for democracy, for the literacy of the masses is the keystone of that great edifice. The evidence that this great truth is making substantial headway in Mexico is one of the most hopeful developments in the distracted republic.&#13;
Better Sentences for Crooked Promoters&#13;
RAUDULENT promotion is becoming H considered a greater crime against&#13;
society than it used to be. The housebreaker, or the highwayman, who takes his life in his hands to gain his ends, is given the limit the law allows; the promoter, who robs thousands by the use of the mails, the telegraph, and the telephone, generally got a light sentence and was soon back at his nefari- ous operations. But public sentiment is changing toward this method of wholesale robbery. When the promoter started after Liberty bonds, people began to lose that misplaced regard that some held for him be-&#13;
cause of their contempt for those who became his “suckers.’”’ Many people were formerly like a Pennsylvania judge who refused to con- vict fraudulent promoters brought before him because, he said; #f people were foolish enough to part with their money for such schemes, they deserved to lose it. That same judge, however, and many others have later fallen victims to some new scheme of the promoters, and now, like the judge, they are ready to give them the limit of the law.&#13;
Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, while on the Federal bench in Chicago, best ex- emplified and to a considerable extent led this change of sentiment. It was he who in December, 1919, sentenced S. C. Pandolfo to ten years in the penitentiary for his frau- dulent operations in selling nine and a half million dollars worth .of stock in the Pan Motor Company. Pandolfo used his ill- gotten millions to carry his case clear up to the United States Supreme Court, but last April he entered Leavenworth penitentiary to begin his ten-year sentence.&#13;
In the first of the Post Office Department’s Texas oil cases, tried before Judge Benjamin F. Bledsoe of Los Angeles, sitting in Fort Worth, Texas, ten-year sentences were given to the two promoters and a two-year sentence to the man who permitted them to use his name. It is such sentences that make crooked promotion unprofitable. The pro- moter might be willing to risk a few years in prison for the fortune he gets, but he will&#13;
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PANDOLFO IN THE PENITENTIARY&#13;
An illustration of the effectiveness of the work of the Post Office Inspectors. S. C. Pandolfo, the arch promoter of the Pan Motor Company, who renamed St. Cloud, Minn.,—the seat of his gigantic promotion operations—‘‘Pan-Town-on- the-Mississippi,’”” and became the virtual dictator of the place, is now “‘Pandolfo Such is the end of Napoleons of crooked finance when the Post Office inspectors get after them. Wor.p’s Work readers will recall Pandolfo as one of the “Pirates of Promotion” exposed by this magazine in January, 1919. He sold $9,500,000 worth of stock to the public and got half of that amount himself&#13;
in the Pen.”&#13;
not risk ten. It is the effective way to mini- mize the promotion evil.&#13;
In sentencing others who pleaded guilty to fraudulent promotion operations, Judge Bled- soe said, “These men have indulged in flam- boyant and excessive claims in connection with the enterprise they operated for the pur- pose of separating innocent and gullible peo- ple from their money. There cannot be any excuse for that any more than there can be an excuse for the highwayman. These men admit they were involved in a scheme to de- fraud. In my judgment nothing is more indefensible or more despicable. Such a scheme lacks the merit of a manly holdup, while possessing at the same time all of its intrinsic advantages. Those engaged in such a scheme do things that a brave man would disclaim, all for the purpose of getting some- one else’s money.”&#13;
The Problem of the Standing Automobile&#13;
OUGHLY speaking, the United States now has one automobile for every nine or ten inhabitants, with a total capital&#13;
value of at least seven or eight billion dollars, and the number is rapidly increasing. Within a few years, if economic factors are alone&#13;
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considered, the nation will be able to go auto- mobile riding comfor- tably and simultaneously on any fine Sunday after- noon. But the economic factors have ceased to be the all-important ones where automobiles are concerned. The time is approaching, as John Ihlder, manager of the civic development de- partment of the Chamber of Commerce of the United States, points out, when a halt may be called by “the incapac- ity of streets, not only in cities, but even in towns and villages, to hold more cars.” Mr. Ihlder emphasizes the problem of the standing automobile. ‘Until some inventive genius invents a collapsible car that can be folded up and put into the hall closet or a corner of the office,’ he says, “this question of what to do with the automobile when not in use is going to cause more and more concern to manufac- turers and salesmen, and to would-be owners than ever has been caused by justices of the peace with a keen eye for local revenues.”&#13;
Mr. Ihlider lays it down as axiomatic that “the streets are designed primarily for tran- sit” and that “entrances to buildings in which there is a large amount of coming and going must be kept accessible.” Obviousy these conditions conflict with the car owner’s desire to park his machine as near his place of business and as long as he desires. Parking space can be added to by the use of portions of public parks, and by the opening up of the centres of city blocks; and private initiative may utilize vacant lots or provide special storage buildings. But these are admittedly makeshifts. The only final solution, ap- parently, will be a re-distribution of traffic. In other words the decentralization of busi- ness, industry, and residence which the auto- mobile makes possible must be taken ad- vantage of to diminish the congestion which the automobile causes.&#13;
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make he!&#13;
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METHODS OF THE MODERN BUCKET SHOPS&#13;
Every month in this part of the magazine the WorLpD’s Work prints an article on investments and the lessons to be learned therefrom&#13;
«HE modern bucket shop operates differently from the bucket shop of old. With a bucket shop as it used to be conducted nothing was bought and nothing was sold. The records&#13;
were kept as though every order had actually been executed. The intention of the bucke- teer may have been that within his financial ability all customers were to get the profits that would have accrued to them had every order been executed. He may have intended to be an honest gambler, taking his profits when he won and standing his losses when the market went against him.&#13;
When state laws were passed requiring that all orders must be executed, the bucket shops devised new and intricate methods of opera- tion. The modern bucket shop executes its orders but does not hold the customers’ stock. It is therefore in the same position as its pre- decessor of being “ short”’ of the stock of which its customers are “long.”’ In other words, the bucketeer takes a position in the market opposite to that of the customer. This, in- cidentally, is forbidden by state law, but it is more difficult to prove than straight bucket- ing because of the ingenious methods used by the bucketeers in disposing of the stock. There are four principal ways of doing this:&#13;
1. The stock may be sold by the bucketeer&#13;
himself.&#13;
2. It may be sold by him through the medium of one or more dummy ac- counts. ;&#13;
3. It may be “loaned” to some other bucketeer or to a legitimate broker.&#13;
4. It may never have been delivered to the bucketeer; he may have purchased it for the account of his customer through another bucketeer, or a legiti- mate broker, who by common under- standing “fails to deliver.”&#13;
According to an authority who has investi- gated houses of this character, methods (1) and (2) are not now commonly employed; the bucketeers prefer methods (3) and (4)&#13;
because they complicate the accounts and make discovery more difficult.&#13;
Under method number (3), when the stock is “loaned,” the other bucketeer, or broker, pays the lender the full market value on the date of the transaction and agrees to return the stock upon demand, on repayment of the money involved. The bucketeer, however, through connivance with the borrowing broker, never demands the return of the so-called “Joaned”’ stock; consequently the transaction becomes a bona fide sale by the bucketeer, who, presumably, and according to this books, is carrying the stock for his customer.&#13;
Under method (4)—now the favorite meth- od—the bucketeer never receives the stock purchased for the account of his customer. On the New York Stock Exchange, in legitimate transactions, it occurs frequently that in cases of customers located at some distance from New York, immediate delivery of stock is impossible. Unless the purchasing broker has immediate need for the securities pur- chased, he is usually willing to allow the seller to defer delivery until the stock to be trans- ferred is received from the customer. In this case the selling broker is said to “fail to de- liver’ and the purchasing broker is said to “fail to receive.’ It should be said that the New York Stock Exchange is particularly careful to see that this privilege is not abused by its members.&#13;
Under this method, the bucketeer, in con- nivance with another broker, has a valid contract covering the purchase of the stock on his customer’s order, but simply fails to take delivery of the stock. As no money is paid out until the delivery is made, no money has to be advanced by the bucketeer in this trans- action at all. It is in this way that the mo- dern bucket shops operate exactly as did the notorious bucket shops of old, and yet have accurate accounts on their books from which it would be difficult to prove that they were bucket shops. When they fail, as so many of them have done, and their customers and&#13;
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362 The World’s Work&#13;
other creditors get little or nothing back, then one can assume that they were bucket shops.&#13;
It might be supposed that these “failure to deliver’”’ and “loan” items would run into enormous figures, and they would, provided the accounts were not frequently liquidated. It is understood, however, by those in a posi- tion to know, that the bucketeer contemplates a complete turnover in his customers’ ac- counts once every ninety days. In other words, he clears his records by cleaning out his customers in that time. That accounts for the fact that he spends so much money all the time to get new customers. When the market is going down he is all right as long as he can get new customers. But when Stock prices rise steadily, as they did for many months following August, 1921, it is difficult for the bucket shops to clean out their cus- tomers’ accounts. It was that market ad- vance that precipitated the failure of some- thing like a hundred of these houses in the last year and a half.&#13;
Both the legitimate broker and his cus- tomers can make money at the same time; a bucketeer gains only when his customers lose. That fact makes evident the corrupt intent with which the bucket shop scheme is conceived. If people make purchases from such a concern, either™ on margin” or by the partial payment plan—a method of invest- ment fostered by these houses, and a very proper method when the purchases are made through reliable houses—and are led to be- lieve that a legitimate brokerage business is being conducted, and if they would not have made such purchases had they known the true situation, they are deceived as to one of the material facts—the security behind the investment. For if the situation had been as they were led to believe, that security would have protected them regardless of what might happen to the concern; but as the situation actually is, the bucket shop must prosper by its customers’ losses, and in_ proportion thereto, or else both bucket shop and cus- tomer go down together. That goes a long way toward accounting for the fact that the creditors of many of the failed bucket shops will get little or nothing.&#13;
Those experienced in the detection of fraud under the Federal statutes maintain that the conception and operation of such a concern is a fraudulent scheme in that it gives assurance of security by falsely representing&#13;
that a brokerage business in good faith is being conducted that would make it possible for every customer to benefit by a rising market, when in truth and in fact the intent is to wipe out every account on a falling market, and if the market should rise, not to intend to settle and not to make any provision to meet that contingency.&#13;
But to know how the bucket shops conduct their business, while interesting, or to know that they probably violate the Federal fraud law by so doing, does not help the average individual to distinguish between a bucket shop and a legitimate brokerage house. It indicates, however, the need for making sure that one does business only with legitimate houses of the best reputation. There are many such houses about which there is no suspicion of bucketing, and the names of some of them can easily be secured from one’s bank or other reliable sources. It is not as easy to learn just what houses do operate as bucket shops, because, as has been shown here, that is a difficult thing to prove.&#13;
It might not be amiss, however, to point out that the WorLp’s Work, in its “ Pirates of Promotion”’ series, about five years ago, in an article on “The Modern Bucket Shop,” —which was then out after Liberty bonds by means of the partial payment plan—listed J. D. Sugarman &amp; Company, one of the first of the Consolidated Stock Exchange houses to fail; E. M. Fuller &amp; Company, the partners of which recently pleaded guilty to bucketing; Charles A. Stoneham &amp; Company, the head of which house was a graduate of the old bucket shop of Haight &amp; Freese, and several others which have since failed. In another article of that series Kriebel &amp; Company, a bucket shop of Chicago, the heads of which were recentl\ convicted for fraudulent use of the mails, was also mentioned, and in still another, L. L. Winkleman &amp; Company, which recently failed, was used as an example to show that there were not enough commissions on the business done on the New York Curb Market to pay the heavy expenses of that and other larger Curb houses provided they did a legiti- mate business.&#13;
The investor can find out what are the dangerous houses to do business with if he makes sufficient investigation. He can trore easily avoid them by doing business only with houses that are known to be _ thor- oughly reliable.&#13;
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~The Ku Klux Klan in the Middle West&#13;
What the Ku Klux Salesmen Have Done Outside of the South, and What the Ungainly Organization They Have Built Has How Big the Klan Is and Where it Is Heading&#13;
Tried to Do.&#13;
By ROBERT L. DUFFUS&#13;
N PREVIOUS articles | have attempted to sketch the origin of the Ku Klux Klan in the imaginative brain of “Colonel” William Joseph Simmons, its early strug- gles with popular indifference, its burst&#13;
of prosperity under the stimulating influence of Edgar Young Clarke and his businesslike assistant, Mrs. Elizabeth Tyler, its impeach- ment at the bar of public opinion, its sinister activities in Mer Rouge and other Southern communities, its political victories, which almost seemed destined to build up a nation- wide super-Tammany, and the internal dis- sensions which have dragged so much of its dirty linen into the light of day.&#13;
The publicity which the Klan has enjoyed in the last twenty months has not been of a sort calculated to endear it to any judicious and public-spirited person, yet it is during these months that it has made the extensive inroads in the North which | shall in the pres- ent article endeavor to indicate. The candid observer must admit that some of the same portions of our population which followed in Mr. Roosevelt’s train in his great days, and which have contributed many a progressive measure to the national programme, have also proved susceptible, in certain pivotal North- ern states, to the Klan’s siren song of hate.&#13;
[t is easier to describe this strange phenom- enon than to account for it. For the present ! shall confine myself to the simpler task. When Mr. Clark set out to sell the Klan at his bargain rate of ten dollars a head, he con- ceived of a plan of campaign which should take in every available American from Bangor to San Diego, and from Bellingham to Key West. He was not guilty of a narrow section-&#13;
alism, and a Yankee dollar was as good in his eyes as one from south of the Mason and Dixon line. But because of a number of con- ditions, mostly geographical, the Klan spread first in the South, growing strong in Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Louisiana, Texas, Okla- homa, and Arkansas before it advanced in force into the North and Middle West. In most cases it has travelled, like its great pro- totype, the boll weevil, through contiguous territories. The great exception to this rule was the Pacific Coast, to which the Klan was carried early, and where a number of peculiar conditions (among them the presence of Jap- anese, Mexicans, and Hindus, and the preva- lent fear of the I. W. W. and other radical movements) may have contributed to its success. The peak of the Klan’s activities and victories in the Middle West has come from a year to eighteen months later than in the South, and considerably later than the same stage in the Far West.&#13;
Statements as to the organization’s mem- bership, whether made by friends or foes, usu- ally need to be taken with more than a grain of salt. The following figures, dated about the end of May, 1923, are as good as most: Florida, 26,000; Georgia, 90,000; Alabama, 78,000; Mississippi, 16,000; Louisiana, 54,000; Texas, 170,000; Oklahoma, 104,000; Arkansas, 45,000; Tennessee, 30,000; South Carolina, 19,000; North Carolina, 47,000; Virginia, 35,000; Kentucky, 48,000; Kansas, 60,000; Nebraska, 45,000; lowa, 51,000; Missouri, 136,000; Illinois, 131,000; Wisconsin, 40,000; Minnesota, 30,000; Michigan, 75,000; In- diana, 294,000; Ohio, 300,000; Pennsylvania, 200,000; Delaware, 6,000; New Jersey, 65,000;&#13;
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HENRY J. ALLEN&#13;
Who, when governor of Kansas, began the fight against the Ku Klux Klan in Kansas, which has been carried on by his successor, Governor Davis&#13;
New York, 75,000; Connecticut, 45,000; Massachusetts, 61,000; Rhode Island, 12,000; Colorado, 34,000; Montana, 3,000; Idaho, 18,000; Utah, 20,000; New Mexico and Ari- zona, about 5,000 each; California, 134,000; Oregon, 58,000; Washington, 38,000. Most estimates of the total number of Klansmen in America fall between two and three million. The total here indicated of, roughly, two million and a half is, | believe, reasonably accurate.&#13;
But such statistics as these represent not the actual number of active members at any given time, but the total number who have been accepted for membership. They in- clude many who have broken with the Klan and are now its avowed enemies; and they include many more who paid their ten dollars&#13;
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Robert L. Duffus&#13;
to the organizers, bu have since lost interes: and dropped out. The order is run by a smai! minority, as such socie- ties usually are, ‘and in most cases it is certainly only a slightly larger mi- nority that attends the regular meetings. A young man of prominent family in Indianapolis was asked two years ago to join a new fraternal society which, he was told, was to “fight Bol- shevism.” He readily signed the application and paid his ten dollars, but was never initiated and never attended a meeting. Yet his name was still being carried on the regular membership lists in May of this year. Such cases seem to be not uncommon. In some communities members have dropped out by the thousand; in a few, local klans have voluntarily disbanded; in others whole klans have gone over into rival organiza- tions, such as the “ Fas- cisti of America,”’ which has its headquarters at Omaha. The actual paid-up membership in good standing in Kansas at the present time is probably not more than 15,000—one fourth of my estimate of those who at one time or another joined.&#13;
Yet if the actual membership is consider- ably less than the figures given, the Klan’s voting strength may be considerably more. The Ku Klux, like other movements, has a penumbra of sympathizers who for one reason and another will not join, but who share its prejudices against Jews, Catholics, or for- eigners, and will vote for it at a pinch. Although official Masonry has spoken un-- equivocally in most of the afflicted districts against the Klan, the Masons have sometimes found themselves, as they did in Oregon, on the side of a measure or candidate supported&#13;
© Paul Thompson&#13;
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The Ku Klux Klan&#13;
by Klansmen. Such issues are rarely clean- cut, and in spite of the election of Klan candi- dates in a large number of American com- munities, it is fair to say that there has not yet been a clean test of Klan voting strength in America. Probably, so long as it remains a surreptitious and opportunistic’ faction, greedy for power and careless of principle, there will not be such a test. An examination of almost every supposed Klan victory shows other influences to have been at work. For instance, in Fort Scott, Kansas, a candidate known as a Klansman was e‘ected mayor this spring; but in addition to being a Klansman he was also a former divinity student, a former locomotive fireman, and a field representative of the Scottish Rite Masons. When to such varied affiliations are added the complexities of local politics, it is virtually impossible to determine what influence each one has had.&#13;
The Klan revealed itself in the Middle West in considerable strength in 1921 (as I have stated in a previous article 18,000 Klansmen were said to have resigned in Chicago follow- ing the exposures in the summer of that year), but it did not begin an aggressive campaign in the North until 1922, and in some states, such as Wisconsin and Minnesofa, its activ- ities have not yet reached a climax. From Texas, its great stronghold, it first reached North into Oklahoma and Arkansas, in which it became very strong; thence it advanced into Kansas and Missouri, and within the last year has grown like a weed in Indiana—now&#13;
the heart of Northern Klandom as Northwest--&#13;
ern Texas is of the Southern—and has estab- lished itself firmly in Illinois and Ohio.&#13;
To the corps of organizers sent from At- lanta were added, as the campaign proceeded, promising members of new lodges. Thus men from Oklahoma City, a hot Klan centre, were sent to Topeka to help bring Kansas into the fold. In Muncie, Indiana, also a hot bed of the Klan, ten or a dozen of the local brothers gave up their regular jobs and went soliciting in Ohio, sending back word to friends at home that they were “making big money.”&#13;
In the state of Kansas, to which the solici- tors turned their attention early in 1922, and which seemed a promising field, the Klansmen encountered one of the severest setbacks of their career in the person of Governor Henry Allen. As this is written the outcome of the fight begun by Allen and carried on, though less dramatically, by his successor, Gov-&#13;
in the Middle West 365 ernor Davis, is still-in doubt, but there is no doubt that Kansas at best will prove a hard nut to crack. f;&#13;
The Klan operated in Kansas, as in Ne- braska, from central headquarters in Kansas City, Missouri. It held several initiation ceremonies in the neighborhood of this city, inviting reporters to witness them from a safe distance, and even held an open meeting in Convention Hall, Kansas City, Kansas, to which the general public was invited: Its strength on the Missouri side in the city and county elections of November, 1922, was estimated at 16,000, the number of votes cast for the unsuccessful Klan candidate for circuit judge.&#13;
In the meantime the situation in Kansas had become critical. The railway strike had disorganized industry and transportation, and Governor Allen was using every means in his power to keep the wheels turning. At this juncture Klan organ‘zers were hurried across the border from Oklahoma and became active in the railway’ centres of Arkansas City, Coffeyville, and Pittsburg, all near the Okla- homa line, and also in Emporia, Newton, and Hutchinson. In all these towns considerable numbers of railway men were out of work. In a similar crisis in Arkansas the Klan had allied itself on the side opposed to the strikers, and can fairly be blamed for a number of acts of violence, including the unprovoked lynching of one striker. But in Kansas the Klan solici- tors conceived the really brilliant idea of en- listing the strikers. Their appeal was simple and direct. The railways had imported strike breakers, many of them Negroes. Was not “white supremacy” thus endangered? Ought not something to be done about it? As a result of arguments like this the railway men actually did flock into the Klan in what seem to have been large numbers, and the elections of last spring showed conclusively that they were then still willing to vote for Klan candi- dates. In Emporia, William Allen White’s model town, a Klan candidate was elected mayor over White’s emphatic opposition, the vote running largest in the labor wards. The Klan is said to have canvassed Emporia by means of salesmen who modestly represented themselves as insurance agents.&#13;
In justice to labor it is well to bear in mind that this was one of the few instances in which it has been tricked, as a group, into supporting the Klan. The Klan is nearly everywhere&#13;
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an enemy of labor organizations. Even in Kansas it circulated its familiar “ Ti-Bo-Tim” postcard, intended as bait for prospective members, in which it gave as one of its pur- poses, “Preventing unwarranted strikes by foreign labor agitators.” Its attitude in the Kansas industrial towns undoubtedly arose from the fact that labor was already at swords’ points with Governor Allen over his Industrial Court law, so that opposition to Allen was an easy way of getting recruits. But although Allen’s court was destined to be rejected by popular vote in the fall elections and to be denatured by a later decision of the Federal Supreme Court, he held the whip hand in the summer of 1922 and used it.&#13;
Governor Allen’s policy was to anticipate strike disorders rather than to repress them after they had begun. At Arkansas City the Klan leaders had hit upon the brilliant idea of parading, in full regalia, in the neigh- borhood of the railway shops as a gentle re- minder to strike breakers of possibly dire consequences if they remained at work. Allen, on being informed of this project, re- quested the mayor to intervene, and on the mayor’s reply that he was unable to do so, announced that he would both halt the parade and remove the delinquent official if the latter did not act. No such parade was held, either at Arkansas City or elsewhere.&#13;
But Allen’s most notable contribution to the Klan’s history in the North was the ouster suit which he caused to be filed on November 21, 1922. Although undertaken by Allen near the end of his term this suit has been continued by Charles B. Griffith, a former assistant attorney-general who was elected attorney-general in the fall elections. Griffith has had a capab e assistant in Captain John Rhodes, who has been in direct charge of the case.&#13;
The suit took the form of a petition that the Klan be restrained “from holding any meetings, assemblages, or parades, and from appearing in any public places or in any public view with the identity of the members concealed by masks and other trappings, and from fomenting and prosecuting any contro- versies, animosities, or hostilities against other persons on account of differences in race or place of birth or religious or sectarian beliefs or methods, and from issuing any commands to other persons as to the opinions, . plans, theories, or conduct of such other persons, and&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
from disturbing the peace and quiet of fam- ilies and neighborhoods, and from interrupting or molesting religious services or members thereof, or any persons meeting or met together for the purposes of worship, or to perform other duties enjoined on them as members of any such religious society, or from disquieting or disturbing in any manner con- gregations or assemblages of people met for re- ligious worship, and from assembling together with the intent to do any of the acts afore- said.”” I have quoted the document at such length because it is, despite its legal verbiage, a good description of what the Klan has done or attempted to do in practically every com- munity in which it has obtained a footing.&#13;
The state based its case, first on the declara- tion that the Klan was a foreign corporation doing business in Kansas without a charter; second, that it had adopted and was using “said name, Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, for the purpose of intimidation and threats against persons who do not conform to the plans, doctrines, theories, or practices of said corporation and its members”; third, that “the use of the said trappings and masks of concealment have been and are for the pur- pose of concealing the identity of the members of said corporations and preserving their safety and immunity from retaliation and punishment, and for the purpose of intimidat- ing and threatening other persons in order to compel or coerce them to conform to and comply with the opinions, plans, theories, and practices, and to obey the commands and threats of the defendants and of other mem- bers of the said corporation within the state of Kansas”; and finally, “that among the opinions, plans, theories, and practices of said corporation and of said other defendants, and of the members of said corporation not spe- cially named as defendants, have been and are to foment and prosecute controversies, ani- mosities, and hostilities against other persons on account of differences in race, in place of birth, and in religious or sectarian beliefs and methods.”&#13;
The testimony taken at the hearings which followed the ouster petition indicated that this indictment was not too strong. In the first place it was shown that the Klan had organ- ized its work in Kansas with a cleverness strongly reminiscent of certain corporation practices of pre-Roosevelt days. Replying to the petition the Klan’s attorneys pointed&#13;
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The Ku Klux Klan in the Middle West 367&#13;
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out that “there are four Klan organizations in which progress is made as follows: first, Klansman; second, Ku Klux, third, Ku Klux ‘Klan, fourth, Knights of the Ku Klux Klan.” “A Klansman,” they declared, “is no more a Knight of the Ku Klux Klan than an En- tered Apprentice is a Fel- low Craft; or a Fellow Craft a Master Mason; or a Master Mason a Royal Arch Mason; or a Royal Arch Mason a member of the Lodge of . Perfection; or a member of the Lodge of Perfec- tion a member of the Chapter of the Rose Croix;or a member of the Rose Croix is a member of the Kodosh, or that a member of the Kodosh is a member of the Consis- tory.” Thomas R. Daly, named as one of the de- fendants, had admitted, in a letter which fell into the attorney-general’s hands, that he was a Klansman. Of him the defendant attor- neys said: ‘‘Probably Mr. Daly, the writer of the letter, is a member of the organization known as Klansmen, but, of course, that fact would not constitute him an agent, represen- tative, oremployee of the foreign corporation.”&#13;
The legal utility of these subterfuges is clearly apparent. The Atlanta Klan is aim- ing to control, yet to avoid the responsibility foritsacts. If the organization is as its attor- neys described it in this instance it has been devised, with the utmost care, not to obey but to evade the law.&#13;
Two Klan agents in Kansas, one of them, Guy Swallow, a former police chief of Topeka, refused to testify on the ground that they “had taken a solemn oath before God”’ not to divulge Klan secrets. In each case a few days in jail led them to submit, but such evi- dence as they gave was delivered reluctantly&#13;
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CHARLES B. GRIFFITH&#13;
Attorney-General of Kansas, who has been an active opponent of the Klan, and whose efforts have made it difficult for the Klan to spread rapidly in his state&#13;
and with the obvious intention of helping the investigation as little as possible. Not one of the 150 witnesses who were members of the Klan when called gave their testimony will- ingly or frankly.&#13;
It was brought out that Klan officials had advised members to deny their connection with the order. Here is an extract from the testimony of James Burns, an Atchison gun- smith, who was for two months a member:&#13;
I was instructed not to tell that | was a member of the Klan [The Organizer told him] “If you are called before any court and have to take an oath, if you haven’t time to notify the secretary, the first Klansmen you meet, notify him and he will notify the secretary, to take your name off the books immediately. Then you are not a Klansman and will be telling the truth.”&#13;
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I says, ‘‘What shall I do if under oath and they ask me?”’. He says: ‘Swear you are not.” I says, “You look at me and see if I look like that kind of man.” . He says: ‘Well, while you are swearing that automatically puts you out, and when you get done that automatically puts you back.”&#13;
Another witness, E. A. Simon of Kansas City, Kansas, was asked, “What were your instructions as to what you should say about being a member if ever put on the witness stand under oath?” “I was instructed to deny membership,” was the reply. “The Cyclops said we were members when we were in the lodge hall, but that our membership ended when we passed out of a meeting.” Such was the assistance which these defenders&#13;
of “law and order” were ready to render to”&#13;
the constituted authorities.&#13;
In the mass of evidence taken were other interesting sidelights on Klan characteristics and methods. The principal witnesses, mem- bers or former members of the Klan, sum- moned at Kansas City, Kansas, included a former assistant United States district attor- ney, a former assistant county attorney, two detectives, a veterinary surgeon, a former sheriff, a chief clerk in the office of the clerk of the county court, a farmer, a lawyer, a druggist, and the president of a men’s Bible class. In Salina, Kansas, the known mem- bers included a policeman, a barber, two undertakers, an insurance agent, the sheriff, a printer, a druggist, the postmaster, a grocer, a tinner, a carpenter, a gardener, a sign painter, a laundry wagon driver, and a brick mason.&#13;
These queerly assorted groups skated pretty close, according to the admissions of former members, to the verge of lawlessness. A Kansas City attorney, L. S. Harvey, who had aided in the Federal prosecution of radicals during the war, stated that he had withdrawn because he became convinced that the Klan was in violation of the statutes making it illegal conspiracy for two or more citizens to join to deprive other citizens of their constitu- tional rights. A Kansas City clergyman who also withdrew said that he had been threat- ened and believed that the Klan had much to do with the pressure which led him to resign his pastorate. Members admitted that in-&#13;
structions were given at Atlanta in methods of disguising the voice and also of giving pun- ishment without permanently injuring the victim.&#13;
Robert L.. Duffus&#13;
“| was on a committee to investigate a Jew who had moved here from the South,” one witness testified, ““and had been reported to our organization by the secret service depart- ment of the Klan at Atlanta. This Jew had been run out of town down there, and we were instructed to call upon him and keep him moving.” As it happened in this case “none of the committee functioned.” An attempt was made, this time through moral suasion, to “correct the viewpoint” of the superinten- dent of schools in Kansas City, Kansas, who had allowed both Negro and white children to participate in the same school pageant. Special robes were exhibited and it was testi- fied that they were worn by “ Kluxers” sent out to administer discipline.&#13;
At Salina, Kansas, the Klan warned and threatened persons “misbehaving.” At Ga- lena threatening letters were sent to two members of the police force, and at Columbus to the editor of a local paper. “Our city government is all right,’’ wrote a citizen of Wellington, “It is strongly opposed to the Klan, but with the sheriff and under-sheriff members of it we feel like we are without pro- tection of the law.” The files of the govern- or’s office at Topeka contain hundreds of letters, some of them scrawled and ungram- matical, but all voicing an honest indignation at the Klan’s conduct and purposes. Neigh- borhood after neighborhood, which had been peaceable and friendly, is revealed in these letters, and in testimony taken in court, as split into hostile groups by the Klan’s arrival. Although actual vio'ence was rare (the whip- ping of the mayor of Coffeyville, who later sued his town for damages, is almost the only notorious instance), communities lived in a state of uneasiness amounting to terror; and the Klans did not scruple to threaten even when they were too cowardly to execute. Of course the situation played upon the nerves of the unstable, who are subject to delusions of persecution, and also gave opportunity for easy revenge to those who had private feuds on hand.&#13;
When a man received a letter declaring that his conduct “had proved very unsatisfac- tory,”’ and ordering him to “make a speedy departure from our city” he had no sure means of knowing whether it was a genuine or a spurious Klansman who signed it. Such a letter could, of course, be signed by an individual Klansman, who had access to the&#13;
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The Ku Klux Klan in the Middle West 369&#13;
official stationery, with- out the consent of his possibly more scrupulous breathren. The very existence of the organi- zation encouraged ter- rorism.&#13;
In its details the Kansas situation is prob- ably typical of that which exists in other Middle Western states, the main differences being in the degree of success at- tained. The methods employed in Indiana are substantially the same as those employed in Kan- sas, although the greater strength of the Klan in Indiana has made it more arrogant.&#13;
Its strength is hinted at by the fact that it suc- ceeded in roping in the chairman of the Repub- lican State Committee, Lawrence Lyons; just as its element of weakness is indicated by the fur- ther fact that Mr. Lyons later resigned and re- pudiated the Klan in a scathing letter which re- ceived national publicity. The Klan is said also to have made overtures to the chairman of the Democratic State Com- mittee, although there is at this writing no positive support for the rumor that this gentleman also listened to the siren song. At present it is politically dangerous in Indiana to be either a known member or an out-and-out enemy of the Klan.&#13;
The Klan first showed its hand in Indian- apolis last fall, when it suddenly appeared in the November elections, and acting generally under cover caused the defeat of several can- didates, among them nominees for state auditor and for clerk of the supreme. court, who were Catholics or had otherwise incurred the ill-will of the Invisible Empire. The Klan has secured a firm foothold in the county offices of Marion County, which includes the city of Indianapolis, and from this point of&#13;
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CAPTAIN JOHN F. RHODES&#13;
Attorney-General Griffith’s assistant who has direct charge of the case against the Klan in Kansas&#13;
vantage has been carrying on a vicious war- fare against Mayor Lew Shank. Its weekly newspaper, 7 he Fiery Cross, sold on the streets in strident competition with Tolerance, the organ of the American Unity League of Chicago, contains the usual hodge-podge of political and religious propaganda. Chal- lenged to make good its claims to being repre- sentative of “law and order” it has brought in detectives who catch an occasional boot- legger or saloon keeper, not a member of the Klan, and turn over the resulting evidence to the county prosecutor. As the Klan refuses to coéperate with the city police officials its efforts have not been conspicuously successful in “cleaning up” Indianapolis.&#13;
In Indianapolis the Catholic, Jewish, for- eign, and Negro elements are strong enough,&#13;
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PHILIP S. VAN CISE District Attorney at Denver, Colorado, whom the Klan attacked because&#13;
of his energy in pushing an investigation of the order. to remove him from office, but were unsuccessful a&#13;
if they combine, to defeat the Klan in any election. The real power of the organization lies in its secrecy. An overt act, which might be seized upon as an issue by its opponents, would, in the opinion of most liberal citizens, be its death blow. In the meantime it serves to create friction between Christian and Jew, native and foreigner, and holds the door open to machine rule and corruption. More and more its resemblance to a sheeted Tammany increases.&#13;
At Muncie, Indiana, two hours’ ride from Indianapolis, the Klan has shown itself, not only willing to condone violence but also dis- posed to overawe the constituted authorities. The organization came out in the open at Muncie in the fall of 1922, gave public lec-&#13;
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Robert L. Duffus&#13;
tures and held oneor two parades. The little city had no foreign or Negro problem, and its labor was largely domestic. Casting about for something to do the Klansmen seized a Negro boy accused of flirting with white girls, carried him to the woods, warned him, and turned him loose. A more serious escapade was an attempt to kidnap a local editor, radically opposed to the Klan, who in the resulting scuffle shot and probably wounded one of his assaillants. The would-be kidnappers fled, taking the supposedly wounded man with them, and the mayor of the city, a respected local physi- cian, set police detectives on the trail. Two members of the force were thought to have the guilty men under surveillance when mysterious opposition developed, complaint was made that the police had “‘talked too much,” and the mayor was forced by political pressure not only to halt his in- vestigation but to discharge the two men who had been active in it. Lately, local observers be- lieve, the Klan’s power is ebbing at Muncie, and although its membership is probably as large, or nearly as large, as ever, it is not taken quite so seriously. In Nebraska the Klan made relatively early appear- ance, and organized “dens” in Omaha, Lincoln, Hastings, Sutton, McCook, North Platte, Fremont, Grand Island, and Nebraska City. But although Omaha has had a Negro problem, and was the scene of a desperate race riot, the Klan did not catch on there. Mayor Dahlman forbade parades, and one Kleagle, at least, gave up in despair and retired from the scene with all his records. The reason for such comparative failures is difficult to find. Every book agent knows that some communities are “easy” and some “hard,” although in appearance the “hard” and the “easy” may be as like as two peas. Doubtless the Klan encountered the same mystery. Apparently, also, it had hard sledding wherever it went into regions where anything like the pioneer American spirit&#13;
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The Ku Klux Klan&#13;
survived. This accounts, possibly, for its relative failure in Western Kansas, in Col- orado, and in most of the region lying between the Missouri River and the Pacific coast.&#13;
In Denver, Colorado Springs, Boulder, and Longmont the Klan made strenuous efforts to organize in 1921 and.1922. In Denver, in June, 1921, it announced to the world:&#13;
We are a “law and order”’ organization, assisting at all time the authorities in every community in upholding law and order. Therefore we proclaim to the lawless element of the city and county of Denver that we are not only active now, but we were here yesterday, we are here to-day, and we shall be here to-morrow.&#13;
“| know the names of some of the men of this order,”” Mayor Bailey announced, a year later, after receiving a threatening letter, “and | regret to say that some of them hold high official position in the city of Denver.” In reply the Klan held a picturesque initia- tion, near Estes Park, at which ceremony re- porters saw several hundred candidates bap- tized “with water from a large goblet.”&#13;
Following the receipt of a threatening letter by a Negro named Ward Gash the grand jury at Denver ordered an investigation of the Klan, which, it was found, had been mas- querading as the Denver Doers’ club. Here, as in the more extensive Kansas inquiry, at least one man refused to testify on the ground that his oath as a Klansman was more sacred than his duty as a citizen. The inquiry gave the Klan some unpleasant publicity, although it resulted in no punishment except the fining of the reluctant witness for contempt of court. It also led to an abortive attempt to recall the district attorney, an energetic young man named Philip Van Cise, who had been active in pushing the investigation. This spring Mayor Bailey, although he received more votes than any other candidate, was defeated for re-election by the operation of the prefer- ential voting system. The strength of the Klan and its sympathizers in Denver, which was thrown against Bailey, was estimated at about 3,000 votes—not enough to carry a candidate or a measure, but influential in a close contest.&#13;
The city of Chicago has been, and is, a battle ground between the Klan and its op- ponents. Here are the principal headquarters of the American Unity League, publishers of Tolerance (of which | may have mure to say&#13;
in the Middle West 371&#13;
in a concluding article) and also of the pub- lishers of Dawn, a Klan weekly edited by a former employee of the Unity League. The Klan influence in Chicago politics is relatively insignificant. In the primaries of last April it is thought to have polled, or influenced, about 20 per cent. of the total vote; but in the city council it holds not more than two out of fifty seats. Mayor Dever, a Catholic with the support of union labor, had the honor of being attacked in scurrilous pamphlets sup- posedly issued by the Klan, but his expected vote was not seriously diminished. Shrewd onlookers believe that the order has “taken its licking” in Chicago so far as an open challenge to political power goes. This gen- eralization may be overhasty as long as it can muster a solid and disciplined minority.&#13;
Much has been made of the Klan’s successes in Oregon, where it supported a school law requiring all children between eight and six- teen years of age, after September 1, 1926, to attend the public schools. This measure was avowedly aimed at the Catholic parochial schools. Governor Ben W. Olcott, who op- posed the Klan and the bill, was defeated in last fall’s elections and Walter M.. Pierce, who had the Klan backing, was elected. Klansmen in Oregon, as in California and other states, were suspected of what Governor Olcott characterized as “felonious assaults and unspeakable outrages committed under the veil of the dark.”’ Governor Olcott had called upon all good citizens to “ give support to the proper law enforcement arms of the Government in this movement against masked riders or cloaked and disguised figures who unlawfully skulk about on secret missions for unknown ends.” But the vote in November, 1922, cannot fairly be called a vote for law- lessness. The movement for compulsory school attendance seems to have originated, not with the Klan but with the Masons, and to have been aimed originally, not at the Catholics, but at illiteracy and defec.ive edu- cation in general. This movement was taken over by the Klan, with the result that the Klan and the Masonic orders were generally (although doubtless unjustly) assumed to be in partnership.&#13;
The Klan leadership in Oregon is closely allied with certain of the electric light and power corporations, and it is common gossip among politicians that it was organized, or encouraged, as a counter-irritant against re-&#13;
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© Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
WILLIAM E. DEVER The new mayor of Chicago.&#13;
seriously diminished.&#13;
form movements which might impair the corporate interests. The effect of its victory was greatly weakened by a split in its ranks, which ultimately led to the formation, outside the Klan but composed of Klansmen, of what became known as the Federated Patriotic Societies. Disgruntled members. of these orders freely accused the parent -order of. cor- ruption, and almost as freely admitted their own political or economic self-interest. As an organized political power, Oregon observers believe, the Klan is already past its prime.&#13;
In California, especially in the Sacramento&#13;
Although he is a Catholic and was scurrilously at- tacked by the Klan in Chicago before his election, his expected vote was not The Klan is not strong politically in Chicago. seats in the City Council it controls but two&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
Valley and around Los Angeles, the Klan has been powerful, and has brought about in some localities a veritable reign of terror. But in Cali- fornia, as in Oregon, a split has developed, nu- merous outrages, one of them resulting in the death of a constable who had gone out with a raid- ing party of Klansmen, have alienated public opinion, and the order is probably on the decline.&#13;
As this is being written the Klan is making a ser- ious effort to surround the city of New York, the head and front of most of the influences in&#13;
America which it de- tests. It is active in suburban Connecticut,&#13;
in New Jersey, on Long Island, and in up-state New York, and has an- nounced its intention of contesting the law re- quiring secret societies to make public their mem- bership lists, which was passed at the last session of the New York state legislature. Early in June the Klan, with its sister order, the “Kamelia,” filed an application for incorporation in what is undoubtedly an attempt to evade the new law.&#13;
There is no doubt that the Klan, like every other political organization in the country, is already making plans to figure in next year’s presidential elections. If Henry Ford is nominated it will probably support him. If no presidential issue is raised in which it can take sides it will “knife’’ Catholics, Jews, and foreigners in both parties.&#13;
In a concluding article | shall essay the réle of prophet and will also attempt to measure the Klan by certain classical standards of Americanism.&#13;
Out of fifty&#13;
Mr. Duffus’s concluding article on the Klan&#13;
will appear in the World’s Work for September&#13;
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WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO&#13;
Why Now is the Time to Get a Permanent Motion Picture of Untouched Africa. Some of My Plans for Photographing Natives and Wild Animals, and How I am Going About It&#13;
By MARTIN JOHNSON Photos copyrighted by Martin Johnson&#13;
The American Museum of Natural History has interested itself in Mr. Jobnson’s photo- graphic records of African wild life and has taken upon itself the task of providing a file in which the films can he kept permanently on record. The following letter signed hy the president of the Board of Trustees of the Museum gives his carefully weighed opinion of the importance of Mr. Jobnson’s work:&#13;
“In the worldwide effort to gather knowledge and first hand information regarding the vanishing wild life of the world, Martin Johnson has already shown what may be done by photography. The unique photographs of his first African journeys accomplish a double purpose: they give us a price- less record of what actually still exists; they make an irresistible appeal that this beauty and fascinat- ing interest of the intimate natural life of animals shall not be destroyed. The American Museum of Natural History took a very unusual step in endorsing these films and photographs, not only because of their beauty and truthfulness, but because they give a message needed the world over. In.the coming second journey to Africa, carried out as planned in the same spirit of conservation, will be rendered a service of greatest scientific value in the field of natural history. The double message of such photography is, first, that it brings the aesthetic and ethical influence of nature within the reach of millions of people who are otherwise forever debarred from such influence; second, it spreads the idea that our generation has no right to destroy what future generations may enjoy.—HENRY FAIRFIELD OSBORN.”&#13;
N A few more weeks my wife and I will be on the way to Africa again—this time for the biggest effort of our seventeen years in the tropics. | have crossed the South Seas with Jack London in the&#13;
Snark. With my wife I have photographed cannibals in the Solomon Islands. We have penetrated 400 miles into the interior of Borneo to photograph the wild life of that great but little-explored island. We have spent two years in the African jungle and on the African plains among the countless thous-*&#13;
ands of wild animals that still are to be found there. And in our wanderings we have learned many things about animals and men, about guns and cameras, about heat and the difficulties of the trail. During all the time we have been hunting and photographing, we have been going through a sort of tropical school. Now we are about to start for Africa again, to spend five years in the interior, and all the things we have learned—all the ex- periences we have had—are going to prove in- valuable. All our difficulties, all our troubles,&#13;
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DOWN THE KURABATANGAN RIVER IN BORNEO&#13;
Mr. and Mrs. Johnson penetrated over 400 miles into the interior of Borneo and brought out a motion picture of life in the wilds&#13;
FLOATING&#13;
all our mistakes in the past have been care- fully analyzed, in order that we may profit from them on this next&#13;
Martin Johnson&#13;
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before the natives and the wild animals have&#13;
disappeared. In the next five years we can accomplish the task. In a few years more than that wild Africa—fascinating Africa— will be but a fading memory.&#13;
We are planning to shoot nothing. There are situations that will undoubtedly arise in which we will be forced to shoot—to protect ourselves—to secure food—to secure for scien- tific purposes some new animal unknown or little known to science. But our purpose— our prime purpose—is to photograph Africa and the inhabitants of Africa—to photograph them as they normally exist—to photograph them in their wanderings, in their play, in their migrations and their congregations—in their natural relations to each other and to the world in which they live. Thrills in plenty we will have—and | hope we’ll photo- graph many of them—but they are incidental toour main purpose, which is tosecure a truth- ful, accurate, complete, and interesting pic- ture of Africa as it is—not a picture of “The Adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Martin Johnson.”&#13;
I]&#13;
FRICA is not a “dark” continent. In the days of Stanley and Livingstone that expression was coined, and the only thing it ever signified was that white men did not know what they might find in the vast interior.&#13;
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expedition—for we are going to spend five years making motion pictures in the wilds, and we will bring back with us a vivid portrayal of un- touched Africa—a_pic- ture of the beauties of the last of the great con- tinents to be explored—a picture of the natives and the animals as they live their lives all but un- touched by civilization— unaffected by the worries of the outside world. We will get a picture that will be a record for a thousand years to come, of Africa as God made it, before the white man&#13;
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. . AMONG THE CANNIBALS OF penetrates further into&#13;
its beautiful wilds, and&#13;
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MALEKULA&#13;
Seven years ago Mr. and Mrs. Johnson visited the New Hebrides ana the Solomon Islands and made motion pictures of the cannibals that still are to be found there&#13;
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What I Am Trying to Do&#13;
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NAIROBI A modern city in British East Africa, with pavements, taxis, hotels,&#13;
and two daily papers.&#13;
To any one who has seen the wonderful views across the peaceful plains, who has seen Mt. Kenia rearing its stately three-peaked crest into the clear blue sky, who has seen a score of different species of wild animals coming in hundreds or in thousands to the water holes to drink together in peace, who has exper- ienced the wonderful silence of the jungle at daybreak, or who has listened to the weird sounds that break the silence of the night, who has worked with the happy child-like natives, and lived with them in their un- spoiled country, who has experienced the thrill of safari—no such person can think of Africa as “dark.” Instead it is a world apart—an Arcady of all but flawless perfection—a land of peace.&#13;
But it is also a land of courage, where the stately animals and the handsome natives are peaceful not through fear. Undisturbed they are tranquil, but they will turn upon the transgressor if they are threatened, or if they believe they are threatened, and then life is cheap in Africa. But the tales of animals&#13;
Mr. Johnson will outfit his “safari” at Nairobi&#13;
bent always on destruction, that attack with- out provocation, that are vicious by nature, are mostly baseless fabrications, or have been brought out by hunters who were not ob- servers. No doubt men have been attacked —and will be again—who consciously have given no cause for attack. But few authentic stories are to be found of animals bent on kill- ing for the joy of killing alone.&#13;
Carl Akeley, for instance, has been twice terribly mauled—once by a leopard that he had wounded, and once by an elephant that he was tracking—but he is as certain as | am that both animals would have gone their way peacefully but for their very proper impression that they were threatened.&#13;
II]&#13;
O IT is into this Africa that we are going, and it is this Africa that we are going to picture. And this is the way we are going to do it. On our last visit to “British East” we penetrated, by an indirect route, 1,300 miles&#13;
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MRS. JOHNSON AND A GROUP OF PORTERS IN CAMP&#13;
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or so from Nairobi, which is on the railroad into the surrounding country in search of that connects Mombasa, on the east coast, material, and here we shall develop our films, with Lake Victoria Nyanza. On this long and be at home to callers, if any find us. trek we found a lake, So extended a time perhaps unknown, as we plan to spend heretofore, to white requires that we have men. It is shown on all the comforts of a i no map | have ever real home, for upon seen, and even long- one’s physical condi- time residents of Nair- tion depends one’s obi had never heard of ability to make the it. So beautiful is the trying side trips and spot, so wonderful is the patient hunts for the view, and so per- the animals we wish fect the lake that Mrs. to photograph. Johnson named it Our first task will be Paradise. As the crow to build a log house, flies it is perhaps 800 and to instal all the miles from Nairobi be- photographic equip- yond that semi-arid ment that we require, district called the for the heat demands Kaisoot Desert. that we develop our&#13;
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: A BLUE MONKEY Here we shall build films as we expose&#13;
our base camp, and here we shall live for them, and, too, there are many ways to get most of the five years we intend to stay. bad pictures and only a few to get good From this base we shall make our journeys ones. So we want to see what we have&#13;
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What I Am Trying to Do&#13;
taken in order to know whether or not the work must be done again.&#13;
With us at Lake Paradise we will have one hundred porters, for we must be more or less constantly in touch with Nairobi in order to get the regular shipments of photo- graphic supplies that we shall require and that have already been ordered shipped periodically so that we may have fresh nega- tives and chemicals that have not “gone bad.”&#13;
With us, too, we shall have cattle, pigs, sheep, and chickens, for we do not want to have to kill game for food any more than is absolutely necessary. And already | have arranged for a black “ boy” who has been trained as a gardener in Nairobi to go with us in order to keep us supplied with garden truck. For a year or so we shall have two Hindoo carpenters and a-Hindoo plumber, and | will be electrician and will instal a lighting plant,&#13;
ZEBRAS AND-AN ELAND&#13;
377&#13;
for the proper developing of negatives de- mands plenty of clear, filtered water, and printing requires electric light. For hurried and connortable trips across country where they can be used, we shall have three of the sturdiest automobiles we can find, with bodies carefully de- signed to carry cameras, beds, and all the countless necessities that photo- graphie work in the wilds requires. We shall have ten per- sonal “boys” for gun bear- ers, camera porters, and the like—men of higher intelli- gence than the hundred or- ‘ dinary porters—and ten&#13;
professional porters for the careful tasks of transporting other delicate equipment.&#13;
Draft and pack animals will be useful for many tasks, and I am planning to have a number of mules, oxen, and camels. In “British East”’ these animals are not expen-&#13;
MR. AND MRS. JOHNSON WITH THEIR SAFARI&#13;
Travel in the wilds requires many porters, for often it is necessary for the men to carry all the supplies.&#13;
pounds is the usual load for a man.&#13;
Sixty&#13;
Mr. Johnson plans on having 100 porters and 20 men for special jobs&#13;
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A MERU TRIBESMAN ,&#13;
sive. | shall buy ten camels, for instance, for $70—$7 each. The mules and oxen will cost more. I am also planning on experimenting with zebras for ‘‘saddle- horses.”&#13;
Our camera equipment is to be composed of both motion-picture and still cameras—ten of each. Three of our most impor- tant cameras will be of the type designed by Carl Akeley for just such work as we intend to use them for. There are no better cameras for wild- animal work than these which were designed by Mr. Akeley after he had learned the weaknesses of other cameras. Two of these will be mounted together, one to be turned at the usual speed of 16 exposures to the second, while the other, operated by the same crank, will make 64-exposures to the second. When operating this machine, then, two pictures are made at the same time and with one set of controls, the only difference being the speed of the exposures. It is by this means that “slow movement”’ pictures are secured, for when these two films are pro- jected the first shows the motion as it ap- peared to the eye, while the second, being projected at one fourth the speed at which it was taken, shows any moving object mov- ing, apparently, much more slowly, making&#13;
Martin Johnson&#13;
it possible to study details of motion that the ordinary camera cannot show. For the scien- tific study of animals this equipment will be exceptionally valuable.&#13;
Another motion-picture camera will be fitted with four lenses of different focal lengths, all mounted in much such a way as similar groups of lenses are mounted on high- power microscopes. The mounting will be permanent and very heavy in order to elimin- ate vibration. With this equipment it will be possible to change from a short- to a long-focus lens, or the reverse, in a fraction of a second. Many times | have failed to get some striking photograph because of the time consumed in changing lenses.&#13;
Long-focus lenses are notoriously hard to use, but fortunately I have had years of experience with them and feel confident of my ability to handle them. These deli- cate lenses make it possible to photograph animals at 150 or 200 yards in such size on the negative as to make them appear to be&#13;
A KIKUYU WOMAN&#13;
With her baby and a load of ‘‘ mealies”&#13;
A MERU WARRIOR&#13;
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What I Am Trying to Do&#13;
A MERU WARRIOR&#13;
The ostrich feather ball on the point of the spear signifies two things—first, that he has killed an os- trich (not a simple task, by the way, for ostriches are wary and fast) and second that he is at peace&#13;
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Another bit of equipment that | have worked out is a great tripod fifteen feet high on which three cam- eras can be mounted, one above another. | have found that ani- mals are not afraid of a light structure that they can see through, but I have had some trouble when | have built blinds large enough to hide two or three cameras, for such a blind is quite large enough to give the animals the im- pression that it might be cover for a lion. The result, of course, is that they give it a wide berth.&#13;
The electrically op- erated cameras can also be started by&#13;
within twenty or thirty yards. Most animals will not be frightened by a camera operating 150 yards away, and will often go on with their ¢razing or their play after being a little startled as the sound of the camera first reaches their ears. The image through these lenses is as clear as the average lens would register at an eighth or a tenth of the distance.&#13;
Another series of cameras will be operated by electric motors run from storage batteries and can be started and stopped by a button on a wire led for almost any distance. With such a camera placed in the open where the animals graze, and watched from a blind ora tree hundreds of yards away, we will undoubt- edly secure pictures that we never could get if we were forced to operate the camera by hand. This equipment will also be valuable for use in jungle glades, in order to secure pic- tures of such rare animals as the okapi and the bonga, which are timid and are seldom seen.&#13;
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A TURKANA CHIEF&#13;
These people wear the hair of their ancestors plas- tered to their own hair with clay in a sort of beaver- tail effect. It is very heavy and hard&#13;
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A MASAI WARRIOR&#13;
the breaking of a thread stretched across a trail. Animals almost invariably tra- vel along game trails —paths worn in the grass of the plains. To mount a camera cov- ering such a trail and to stretch across the trail a thin black thread is not difficult, and the camera can be left for a day ata time, with the proba- bility that sometime an exceptional photo- graph will be taken. With this equipment | can already imagine myself impatiently wondering, as I de- velop the exposed film,&#13;
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Martin: Johnson&#13;
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MERU WARRIORS&#13;
what sort of an African citizen has so accom- modatingly taken his picture for me.&#13;
Flash-light pictures are, of course, not diffi- cult to secure. But once the flash explodes the animal waits for little more, and the camera hunting for that night is likely to be ruined. As an experiment, however, | am taking with me some magnesia flares. These burn for 30 seconds, or a minute, or more, depending upon their size, and while | admit that the chances are that most animals will bolt at the first sign of light, it may be that some curious individual may wait for at least a few seconds to see what it’s all about.&#13;
But there is one plan that I have made that 1 am particularly anxi- ous to try. | know of a plain where elephants often congregate, but on which there is no cover. Now elephants are not difficult to pic- ture at a few hundred yards, but | want to get some close-ups. Neither do I want to have to shoot any, as Mrs. Johnson and | have been forced to do when we have ventured so close as to make them think we were dangerous, for once an elephant herd has been fired at—particu-&#13;
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A TELEPHOTO PICTURE OF HIPPOPOTAMI&#13;
larly after elephants have been killed—they grow exceedingly wary.&#13;
My plan is to build a very heavy steel cage with room enough inside for me to have the space to operate a camera. In the top of the cage will be a sort of cupola built of heavy iron pipe, and in the top of the cupola will be a trap door, that will lift up. This cage I shall bury in a hole dug for it in some strategic point in this elephant-infested plain, so that only the cupola will be visible. Early in the morning | shall enter the cage with my cam- era and when the ele- phants put in their appearance from the trees at the edge of the plain | shall spend my time hoping that some of them wander my way. In case they do 1 shall be able to op- erate the camera from an almost invisible spot, and in case some sus- picious fellow charges me | shall be able to disappear into my bur- row out of harm’s way. 1 doubt if any of them will try to dig me out. If they do, I’ll have to fall back on my gun.&#13;
There are countless other things that | have prepared or planned, for a five-year excursion is more than a camping trip. |&#13;
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expect to use, for instance, about 60,000 feet of nega- tive a year—ten miles of it. One doesn’t need much imagination to understand that a lot of equipment is necessary in order to do the work satisfactorily. In addition, we will be equip- ped with ‘‘still” cameras carrying long-focus, wide- angle, and portrait lenses, the last being for native portrait work. Further- more these cameras will be so designed that strings can be used to operate them, either by hand from a dis- tance or by contact of the animals themselves.&#13;
The heat that we shall encounter necessitates a great deal of care in trans- porting our goods. Most&#13;
What I Am Trying to Do&#13;
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JERRYMANI AND A LEOPARD&#13;
Mr. Johnson’s gunbearer and ‘head*man.&#13;
He is always happy and good natured and&#13;
has a fortunate faculty of keeping the “boys” in a good humor&#13;
381&#13;
of the cases for perishable goods will be built on the fireless cooker principle, and while the outside may be so hot as almost to burn one’s hand the inside will remain at the temperature at which it was packed.&#13;
IV&#13;
() UR idea is not to wait&#13;
until the five years is over before we release any of our pictures. We plan on sending out two pictures before we finally return with a third.&#13;
The first picture we shall send out will be of the life of the natives. For that we have-already in- mind several of the finest natives that we. have seen. It is our purpose to show them&#13;
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MRS. JOHNSON AND A GROUP OF MERU NATIVES&#13;
The tall man at the left of the front rank is Songo, around whom Mr. Johnson plans on building a motion picture of&#13;
native life. He is a ‘tale bearer’ —that is, a carrier of news, who travels from tribe to tribe with the news and&#13;
gossip of the countryside&#13;
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in every phase of their life—their home life, their dances, their hunts, their religious ceremonies, and all of it will be pictured around Songo the Tale Bearer, a fine spec- imen of the Meru Tribe, who travels from tribe to tribe—Kikuyus, Wakambas, Borans, Turkanos, and Samburus—to tell of the news, the hunts, the gossip in which they are all interested. He is any African Homer of the present-day—a tropical bard—a “dark”’-con- tinent newspaper, and a perfect specimen of African manhood.&#13;
The second picture will probably be called “African Babies” and for it we shall make every effort to secure pictures of scores of different baby animals and pictures of young- sters among the tribes we visit as well. To the person unacquainted with Africa it will be an education in itself, for every animal’s young are playful, and some are almost as full of fun as kittens. Baby elephants, baby lions, baby gnus, baby giraffes, baby every- thing play, and with the playful children of the happy natives added, the film should be a jolly, happy picture of “dark” Africa as the younger citizens view it.&#13;
AN AFRICAN LANDSCAPE&#13;
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Martin Johnson&#13;
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CHEETAH&#13;
The cheetah is neither true cat nor true dog.&#13;
He has feet like a dog, and a head like a cat.&#13;
He is harmless and lives mostly on birds, is&#13;
easily tamed, and is sometimes used as a hunt- ing dog&#13;
Vv&#13;
RR seventeen years | have been wandering here and there in the tropics, and for fourteen years Mrs. Johnson has been with me, photographing the strange and interesting things we have seen. But neither of us is content with thinking of the things we’ve seen or the pictures we’ve taken. What we’ve done is done, and while we feel that we have done something to create a better understand- ing of the out-of-the-way spots we have vis- ited, we are not satisfied that we have done our best. To us what we have done seems now as if it were a course of training, and now we want to do something better, something more valuable, and more permanent. If it is not done now it will never be done, and so it is that this expedition is being financed.&#13;
But to tell the whole truth, the thing that appeals to one most is Africa; the wonderful days in the jungle and on the plains, the weird night sounds, the trumpeting of elephants, the breaking branches as they feed among the trees. | look forward to the camp fires and the singing porters after the day’s work is done. I want to see Jerrymani, my head man and gun bearer as he comes up into the circle of light around the fire and tries to still his almost chronic laugh while he salutes and asks “Order, Bwana?”’ I want once more to see little old wizened Japandi, who actually&#13;
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What I Am Trying to Do&#13;
weeps with delight if one pats his shoulder and commends his work. I want to see Ka- varandi. and N’garo and Omar—the best porters that ever were—as they lower their burdens after a long day’s march. And | want to listen to the jungle noises—to the roar of a lion in the distance, to the cry of some night bird, to the chant of contented natives, to the far-off scream of a leopard. And I want to go to sleep again in the vast bedroom of Africa, knowing that the world is peaceful and that Mohammed, our old watch- man, is sitting at his camp fire, contented and full of stomach, to watch while Bwana and Memsahib sleep.&#13;
A GLIMPSE OF LAKE PARADISE&#13;
It is beside this lake that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will build their permanent base, and it is here that they will spend most of the next five years. Lake Paradise is about 800 miles, as the crow flies, from Nairobi&#13;
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MRS. JOHNSON AND A TEAM OF GREVEY ZEBRAS Two months before this photograph was taken these zebras were wild.&#13;
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They&#13;
are hardy, and are immune to hoof and mouth disease and the tsetse fly&#13;
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MAKING CROOKED PROMOTION&#13;
UNPROFITABLE&#13;
What the Post Office Department is Doing to Prevent the Operations of&#13;
Crooked Promoters and to Punish Offenders.&#13;
The Texas Oil ‘‘Boom’’&#13;
and Some of the Companies That Have Been Forced Out of Business&#13;
By HARRY S. NEW&#13;
Postmaster-General of the United States&#13;
N ITS campaign against the crooked pro- moters who disturb confidence in all securities and undermine the esteem in which citizens hold the Government, the Post Office Department has been instru-&#13;
mental in the indictment of ninety-two in- dividuals in Texas, who, it is estimated, have had a hand in fleecing something like two million people out of more than $140,000,000 in the last five years. The Department of Justice has three experienced Special Assis- tants to the Attorney General, in addition to the local United States Attorney and his assis- tant, engaged in the trial of these cases in Texas and has detailed a special Federal Judge to assist in hearing them. Within eight weeks after the returning of the indictments by a Federal Grand Jury at Fort Worth, the first of these cases had been tried and the two promoters of the General Robert A. Lee Development Interests had been convicted of fraudulent use of the mails and sentenced to ten years in the Federal penitentiary and fined $15,000.&#13;
Such satisfactory sentences for those who conceived and carried out this bold-face fraud should cause others who prey on the savings of the people of this country to pause in their nefarious operations and weigh the possibili- ties; and the two-year sentence of the self- styled “General” who was the figurehead in this case should be a warning, to all who are tempted by the Get-Rich-Quick Wallingfords to lend their names to deceive the public.&#13;
As pointed out in the WorLp’s Work Jast month, these Texas indictments are but the first fruits of an active campaign of the Post Office Department, working with the full coéperation of the Department of Justice, to put the fraudulent promoter out of business. One immediate result of this campaign is&#13;
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evident in Fort Worth in the amount of pro- motion literature that is going out through the mails. The grand jury which returned these indictments—the largest number ever re- turned in promotion fraud cases at any one time—sat for six weeks, from March 12th to April 2oth, listening to evidence presented by the corps of post office inspectors dispatched to Texas to clear up this evil.&#13;
For months:before that the mailing of pro- motion matter from the Fort Worth post office had been growing enormously. It was the last of March that it reached the high- water mark. Much of it was in the form of oil journals carrying the promoters’ advertise- ments. In the last week of March twenty of these publications were mailed as third class matter—known as permit mailings—and dur- ing that week 329,723 pieces of such mail went out. In the first week of May, following the indictments, only eight of these papers were left, and the mailings had dropped to 58,152 pieces.&#13;
In March there were also ten oil journals enjoying the second-class privilege. Their mailings during the last week amounted to 36,494 pounds. Due to the lack of advertis- ing, or more directly due to the indictments, two of these ceased publication, and the mail- ings of the other eight fell to 12,207 pounds. This does not include the papers and other promotion matter that went out in one-cent wrappers, or the bulk of the promoters’ cir- culars that went first-class, all of which fell off proportionately. This means that credulous people throughout the cquntry are now receiv- ing much less oil promotion literature from Texas than they did.&#13;
Another reason for this radical reduction in promotion matter emanating from Fort Worth has been the active use of the fraud order&#13;
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Making Crooked Promotion Unprofitable 385&#13;
authority by the Post Office Department. The crooked promoter fears the fraud order as much if not more than he does criminal prose- cution. It stops his operations and cuts off his revenue immediately. For as soon as a fraud order is issued he can no longer receive his mail; it is returned to the senders stamped “Fraudulent,” and no money order made out to him will be paid. This makes it useless for the promoter to send out any more literature. It puts him out of business at once.&#13;
This effective measure is being used against all of these promoters who are found to be using the mails fraudulently. Scores of them have been cited to appear at Washington be- fore the Acting Solicitor of the Department, Mr. H. J. Donnelly, and show cause why fraud orders should not be issued against them; and already a number of such orders have been issued after careful consideration of the evidence adduced at the hearings before the Acting Solicitor.&#13;
THE PETROLEUM PRODUCERS ASSOCIATION&#13;
FRAUD order was issued against Dr. Frederick A. Cook and his Petroleum Producers Association, and when an-attempt was made to evade the effect of this order by notifying stockholders to send further pay- ments to F. K. Smith, an associate of Cook’s, the order was quickly extended to cover that name also. It was used in the case of the “General” Lee Interests; the Pilgrim Oil Company and its three trustees, who were operating a merger scheme similar to Doctor Cook’s, and against Fred L. Harris, alias Frederick L. Haskins, who was trading on the established reputation of the well-known syn- dicate writer, Frederic J. Haskins, in publish- ing promotion papers which pretended to give disinterested advice about oil stocks but were designed to promote the.sale of his own worthless securities. Fraud orders were also issued against the Independent Oil News, The News “2,000 Acre Club’”’, New Royalty Club, and the International Investors’ Bul- letin, of Fort Worth and Dallas, Texas—all promoted by Harris. ae The operations of the Revere Oil Company and the Dixie Royalty Company were also found to be fraudulent after a formal hearing before the Acting Solicitor, but the issuance of fraud orders against these names was with- held on account of the appointment of re- ceivers for these concerns, the receivers agree-&#13;
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ing to return promptly to senders any re- mittances sent in payment of stock. But the promoters of these concerns also operated under the names of the Kosse Gusher Syndi- cate, Kosse Gusher Lease Pool, Roco-Moran Syndicate, Mayflower Oil Co., Guaranty Lease and Royalty Co.; International Broker- age Co., and the Eastern Trust &amp; Mortgage Co., at Fort Worth and Dallas, and fraud orders have been issued against these names.&#13;
Up to the time of the writing of this article the Department has also issued fraud orders against the Mexia-Gibraltar Oil Company, The Texas Trust Company, The One Dollar Oil Club, The Two Dollar Smackover Lease Club, and the Kosse Double Royalty Club, all of Fort Worth, Texas.&#13;
THE SOLICITOR’S USE OF FRAUD ORDERS&#13;
VEN more effective use has been made of&#13;
the fraud order proceedings by the Solici- tor’s office of the Department in its efforts to protect the public from the depredations of these swindlers. Seldom is it possible to re- cover for the investor any of the ill-gotten gains of the swindler. The issuance of a fraud order stops him from getting more money. His subsequent trial and conviction may put him in jail to pay the penalty for his crime, and keep him from operating a new fraud scheme for some years. But his “suckers”, as he calls them, have little chance of getting back any of the money they have parted with under the spell of his appealing propaganda. In Texas, however, we have been able to stop some fraudulent promotions in less time than it would have taken to hold fraud order hear- ings, and in one case it has been possible to bring about the restoration of a good part of the money fraudulently taken from the public. The details of that case, without the names, show how effective this arm of the Govern- ment can be at times in safeguarding the savings of the people.&#13;
On April 4th, a promoter purchased at the Fort Worth post office ninety thousand twelve-cent stamps. That caused an in- vestigation to be started at once. Those stamps were used to send out ninety thousand fake telegrams by special delivery mail. The envelopes in which they were mailed were printed to resemble closely Western Union envelopes. The message within, on a fake telegraph blank, was a hurry-up call of the promoter designed to secure from the ad-&#13;
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386&#13;
dressee at least twenty-five dollars. It was dated 5:30 p. M., two days later than the date of its mailing. A quick investigation by two post office inspectors and an attorney from the Solicitor’s office disclosed that this promoter had previously mailed a series of five circular letters to more than one hundred thousand persons throughout the country. These let- ters were on the letterhead of the First Na- tional Bank of a small town in Texas, and were signed by the cashier of that bank. In the first of these letters the banker said he had been cashier of this “old reliable First Na- tional Bank” for fifteen years, that he was a conservative business man and banker and slow to advise any one to invest unless he felt that their investment would turn out profita- bly. In subsequent letters and circulars there was unfolded an “absolutely safe plan’”’ for making some quick money for investors; a profit of ten for one in about sixty days, with much larger profits to follow. The reader was to be permitted to come in on the ground floor of a so-called pre-organization plan and share in the big organization profits to be derived from the sale of stock be- longing to the ground floor syndicate. He was advised that he was not “ buying stock”’ but was helping to organize his own company, which was going to “sell stock”’ to the other fellow. He was assured ten for one on his money “oil or no oil” by participating in what was in fact to be a game of selling worthless stock to the “other fellow.”&#13;
It was stated that they would secure leases on one thousand acres in one of the counties of Texas, between two certain wells, and two hundred acres in the Smackover field, Arkansas. The investigation disclosed that the acreage in Texas was worthless. It was, in fact, about midway between the two wells, but they are twenty-two miles apart and both of them at that time had been in course of drilling for more than a year and had struck no oil. There was no oil in that whole county according to the best geologists. The bulk of the acreage to be secured in Smackover was found to be eight miles from any production and while these promoters claimed they were to pay $150 an acre for it, it was known that acreage could be secured in that vicinity on drilling contracts; that is, any one who would agree to put down a well on the land would be given a lease for it.&#13;
The investigation showed conclusively that&#13;
Harry S. New&#13;
this was a fraud scheme. A citation was therefore prepared calling upon the promo- ters to show cause why a fraud order should not be issued against them, and Mr. C. W. Hassell, the attorney from the Solicitor’s office, accompanied by Post Office Inspectors Swen- son and Switzer went to see the banker in whose name this scheme was being carried on. They found that he had been induced to permit the use of his name and the name of his bank on assurance from the promoter that the scheme was legal in every particular. The banker himself owned the thousand acres in the Texas county and was to receive $10,000 from the company for the lease of this tract and $5,000 additional for his services. He had signed a contract with the promoter employing the latter “to act in the capacity of broker to raise $200,000.” It was stipu- lated in this contract that the promoter was to use a series of five.letters and one telegram, “copies of which are hereto attached and which bear my O. K.’’—(the banker’s). And it was provided that the promoter was to get 25 per cent. of the gross amount of money that came in.&#13;
When Attorney Hassell and the two in- spectors called upon the banker they showed him a copy of the citation setting forth the charges to be filed against him, and stated that they were ready to serve it on him at once. He voluntarily elected to immediately direct the postmaster to withhold further delivery of his mail, and two days later he went to Fort Worth, conferred with his attorneys and his associates, and the following day filed a permanent order directing the postmaster to return to the writers, stamped “ Refused,’ all mail held or thereafter received addressed to him. He also filed an affidavit that he would refund all money in his posses- sion to the remitters and would make restitu- tion to all investors in so far as he was able.&#13;
This scheme, during the few weeks that it was operated, took in something more than $125,000. When the mail was stopped, about a week after the ninety thousand fake tele- grams went out, the money was pouring in at the rate of $5,000 a day.&#13;
Unfortunately, however, the promoters of most fraudulent schemes do not so readily lay down their arms as this banker-stool- pigeon did. It therefore behooves inex- perienced investors to learn the earmarks of fraudulent promotions so that they can pro-&#13;
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Making Crooked Promotion Unprofitable&#13;
tect their own savings from them. By use of the fraud order, the Post Office Depart- ment can effectively end such swindles; but not until proof of fraud is secured. By criminal prosecution the fraudulent promoters can be made to suffer the penalty for their crimes, but not until the damage is done.&#13;
The Government intends to keep so actively on the trail of these law-breakers that crooked promotion will become unprofitable. But until that happy time arrives, inexperienced investors should study the methods of these unscrupulous promoters and learn to avoid them as they would the old shell game at a fair. They are just as sure to lose their money if they don’t. To help in the educa- tion of such investors, it might be well to tell of some of the things the investigations in Texas disclosed.&#13;
The evidence upon which the issuance of the fraud order was based in one of the “merger” schemes shows that from the be- ginning of the operations of the promoter, in March, 1922, to the time of his indictment this spring, the stockholders of more than three hundred earlier oil promotions had been approached by him and the “merger” of those companies by his concern announced. In his zeal to accumulate stockholders lists this promoter employed a number of “scouts”’ to travel regularly about the country in search of companies whose lists might be acquired. In many instances officers or trustees of in- active companies approached him and sold their lists to his institution. The prices paid ranged from $50 to as much as $2,000 in a few cases. In rare instances was any property acquired with these lists. In nearly a hundred cases the names of stockholders were secured and “mergers” announced without the con- sent of the officers of the companies involved. He wrote all these stockholders urging them to save the loss of their previous investment by exchanging their holdings for stock in his concern, always on the condition that they invest an additional amount in cash of at least 25 per cent. of the face value of their old holdings.&#13;
A DECLARATION OF TRUST&#13;
HIS concern was a trust estate, like most of the other Texas promotions, and the promoter was the sole trustee. Under his dec- laration of trust, filed four months after he started business, he was given the right to sell&#13;
as much stock as he wished and at such prices as he saw fit. He had absolute power and full control over the company’s affairs and it was specifically provided that he might do anything with its assets that he deemed neces- sary or advisable. For his services he was to receive one eighth of all gross funds received.&#13;
| wonder how many people would have invested in such a concern if they had known of these provisions in the declaration of trust. And how many would have invested if they had known that what they were going to get was non-transferable receipts, no mention of which was made in the literature, and that the only quotations for the stock were fictitious ones made by prearrangement with a few brokers, including employees or associates of the promoter himself? Why people persist in taking stock-selling promoters at their word and swallow their misrepresentations without investigation, is a mystery.&#13;
The literature represented this concern as a strong, successful organization with an in- come from producing wells equal to a yearly dividend of 25 per cent. on all outstanding stock. An audit of the company’s books made by Mr. H. B. Matheny, special bank accountant of the Department of Justice, showed that up to January 31, 1923, the total of all receipts from the sale of oil and returns from royalties for the nine months period of operation was just $2,810.39. At that time there was outstanding approximately $2,500,000 of stock and two dividends of 2 per cent. each had been paid to stockholders, amounting to $30,073.95. They were paid out of the proceeds of stock sales. A total of $438,408.42 had been received from that source. Most of it had gone for lists, for operating expenses, and for dividends. On January 31st, when the stockholders were expecting another dividend, which, at 2 per cent., would have called for $50,000, there was only $5,660.77 cash on hand. The pro- moter, for some reason, did not get his one eighth out of this promotion; but he made use of the funds of the concern and its large office force, which for a time worked in two shifts, day and night, to produce literature for other promoters, and out of these the in- spectors estimate that he got $230,000. He received 50 per cent. of all the money he lured from investors for these other promotions; that was better than one eighth from his own.&#13;
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These “merger” companies were interested in acquiring mailing lists not in merging com- panies. The evidence shows that the stock certificates sent in were filed away and for- gotten. More conclusive evidence on this point was unearthed by the inspectors in connection with the Revere Oil Company, which is now in the hands of receivers, and whose promoters are under indictment. A certain one of the ninety-two indicted men, sold to the Revere Company for $300 the stockholders list of the Alpha Oil &amp; Refining Company. The Alpha had no assets, but this man went out and bought a lease from a lease broker for $50 and had it made out direct to the Revere. Then he had a bright idea. He went to a list broker—which by that time had become a regular business in Fort Worth— and bought the stockholders list of the Cul- berson’s $5.00 B:11 Syndicate for $10. He then created, in his mind, the First National Producers’ Association, had some cheap stock certificates printed and some cheap letter- heads. He then wrote to the stockholders of the Culberson’s $5.00 B:11 Syndicate, using a fictitious name, and telling them that al- though it had been impossible for him to make money for them in the Culberson Syndicate, he was now going to give them an equal amount of stock in the First National Pro- ducers’ Association, which was going to make money. He mailed these letters in one-cent envelopes. They were held at the post office for more postage, and as he could not be located, because of the fictitious name, they were never delivered. Meanwhile he went to the Revere people and sold them this new stockholders list for $300. The Revere pro- moters then sent out their regular “merger” letter, offering to merge the First National Producers Association. It went to people who had never received any stock certificates in that imaginary company.&#13;
HOW THE MONEY DISAPPEARS&#13;
HE course of another stockholders list that went into the Revere ‘‘merger’’ shows how little chance the public has in these pro- motion propositions. Another one of the in- dicted men, was the organizer of the Dorado Oil Syndicate, a trust estate. It had leases all&#13;
Harry S. New&#13;
over Arkansas. He sold 2,400 shares at $25, $37.50, and $50ashare. With the money he bought in his name a lease near El] Dorado and another in Texas. He drilled on these two leases and got two wells in Arkansas and two dry holes in Texas. He owed the Ar- kansas driller $5,000 on a note and the latter attached the oil from the two wells. Then the promoter sold his producing lease to another man for $12,500, made him trustee of the Dor- ado Oil Syndicate, and departed for California. The new trustee sold the producing property to Dallas people for $30,000 and turned the worthless leases over to the Revere Company along with the Dorado Oil Syndicate stock- holders list.&#13;
These Texas investigations have to date covered nearly two hundred cases, and as a re- sult of them it can be written in large letters for the education of the public that at least 50 per cent. of all the money paid for Texas oil promotion stocks goes to those who write the literature, supply the “sucker” list, and send out the promotion material. Out of the re- maining 50 per cent. the inspectors estimate that only 5 per cent. goes into drilling for oil. This should set at rest the fallacious argument that this campaign will restrict the production of oil. Far from it. We are conserving the resources of the people so that more money is made available for legitimate exploitation and development. We are after the stock seller, not the man who is honestly seeking production.&#13;
If we put the promotion swindlers out of business, there will be more money for the honest driller who wants to prospect for new fields. As a matter of fact the stock- selling promoters ordinarily do not drill in purely wild-cat territory; they usually get cheap leases in a section where there is or was production somewhere near that they can talk about. The way they flocked to Kosse after one well came in there for 15,000 barrels, due to a geological freak, and went dry in about a month, shows how active they are in searching out new fields. They are still telling their dupes about the “Great Gusher at Kosse,” and are acquiring leases there, although 50 dry holes have been drilled around this dead “ gusher.”’&#13;
 &#13;
THE HUMOROUS SIDE OF ARCTIC EXPLORATION&#13;
Laughable Incidents That Break the Monotony of the Hard and&#13;
Dangerous Work Above the Arctic Circle.&#13;
The Eskimos’ Sense&#13;
of Humor, and Some Amusing Anecdotes of Northern Life&#13;
By DONALD&#13;
AN’S popular conception of the Arctic is a great white land of drifting snows, biting winds, starvation, and possibly death. This is the picture drawn by the early explorer—a true one—and necessarily such by all who have attempted to attain Farthest North, the conquest of which de- manded years of experience, of patience, of toil, of resourcefulness, and of infinite detail in plan. Common sense, however, dictates that there must be a certain kind of pleasure derived from the work or man would not con- tinue to harness his dogs and disappear over the northern horizon. Not only pleasure at the time in pitting one’s self against the ele- ments of nature, deep snows, terrific winds, thin ice, high pressure ridges, extreme cold, and burning sun—and winning out, but re- miniscences on the return home of the laugh- able and amusing incidents of our various trips.&#13;
Such began on the North Pole trip with Peary even before we left the foot of East 23rd Street, New York City. Upon my re- turn on board ship following a busy day about the city purchasing supplies, | was greeted by Charlie, the cook, with the words: “Your room mate has been here. Here is his card.” To my amazement the card read “Colonel H. D. Bomp.” The distinguished title wor- ried me considerably for | could not imagine myself spending a year or more in a closet, for such my room was, with a colonel! All the anticipated pleasure of the trip was gone. | had lost my enthusiasm. As | afterwards learned, my real room mate, George Bomp, and his father, the colonel, had been down and upon being informed that I was not on board ship they left the colonel’s card. Before leaving the ship George inquired of the cook as to whom he was to room with, and received&#13;
MACMILLAN&#13;
the shock of his life upon being informed that it was Professor MacMillan! A few days later our mutual fears were allayed when we met in a little room, | to learn that he was but a good-natured boy in temperament and he considerably relieved to find out that | was not a “Professor”’.&#13;
For several days prior to our departure reporters were as bad as the heat—always present. Some one of the crew inadvertently mentioned the fact to one of these scribes that we had no reading matter on board for the long winter nights. Here was an oppor- tunity for real service. In the next morning’s issue this fact was called to the attention of the kind people of New York. That afternoon a stream of books was flowing down East 23rd Street to the Recreation Pier, carried by young, middle aged, and old, and even trucks. It was the most cosmopolitan library ever assembled, for there was everything, with one exception, from a Nick Carter to a classic and that exception a Bible—not a one.&#13;
The men for’ard and aft filled their shelves. The haycock of books on the dock looked as big as ever, and there it remained through the night. The next morning Peary appeared. When his grey eyes lighted upon that chaotic and nondescript mass of literature he stopped short. His red mustache fairly bristled as he exclaimed: “Who in Hell sent those books?” No one knew and if he did he dared not con- fess to the “Wanted Books for the Roose- velt!’”’ in the press. A few hours later we received orders to put them on the quarter deck and the whispered information: “We'll throw them overboard when we get out to sea.”&#13;
The happy thought occurred to us that we might dispose of them among the poor whites and fishermen of Labrador, who clamor in- cessantly for reading matter from every pass-&#13;
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ing ship. No one was more happy in testing the truth of that familiar quotation: “It is more blessed to give then to receive.’’ Upon hearing that familiar query, “Have you any books, sir?’’ the men exchanged sly winks and beckoned the boatman to the side of the ship, who encountered such a deluge of books and bundles that in consternation he grabbed his oars and rowed wildly away fearing that we were attempting to sink his boat.&#13;
We were prepared for the Arctic in more ways than one. We had letters of in- troduction to the people at the North Pole! These were sent to us by a society in the West whose membership consists of men and women who sit in the dark and see things at night. They were regular correspondents with people at the Pole and had kindly informed them of our future arrival. The Polar inhabitants had promptly thanked the learned society for this interesting bit of in- formation and had signified their intention of being out on the ice to meet us. Let- ters of introduction followed giving us the names of the King and Queen and the proper mode of salutation.&#13;
Some of our canned goods of 1908 had been packed away in the after lazaret in 1905. It occurred to Charlie Percy, our cook, that it would be a good idea to make use of these as quickly as possible. He summoned Billy, the galley boy, from the forecastle and ordered him to go aft and get ten cans of corn. In doing so it was necessary for Billy to pick his way gingerly over a narrow plank lying on the surface of several tons of extremely old whale meat. Billy’s feet flew out from under him and he sat with a splash in the quivering jelly-like mass.&#13;
When Billy, some ten minutes later, ap- peared in the doorway with his arms full of&#13;
 &#13;
DONALD B. MACMILLAN, DR. SC., F.R.G.S.&#13;
Formerly a college instructor, who joined , one of Peary’s expeditions, in 1908, and has house lot, big enough, he been exploring most of the time since then. said, so that his neighbors&#13;
From 1920 to 1922 he was commander of ‘ . . % the MacMillan Baffin Land Expedition COuldn’t look into his win-&#13;
    &#13;
390 Donald MacMillan&#13;
canned goods, Charlie’s nose reared up on its hind legs and with a searching look, he de- manded a can of the corn. Very gingerly he applied the can opener, holding the innocent and perfectly good food at arm’s length while Billy stood at attention wondering how to get out of the cabin without presenting a rear view to his commanding officer.&#13;
Charlie crooked his arm slightly, and detecting no odor, dared to hold his nose to the edge of the tin. A bit relieved he ordered another tin and went through the same operation of opening and smelling. Billy was still holding his position of “front”. The cook looked at the tin and then looked at Billy. The tin was elim- inated. “Billy, is that your” yelled Charlie. The boy did not await orders to retreat but bolted through the door. That afternoon he told the crew that he would buy another pair of pants when we reached Etah, North Greenland, not realizing that Etah was two or three holes in a hillside and not a respectable sized town as many think!&#13;
Eventually we reached the northern shores of Grant Land and went into winter quarters at the edge of the Polar Sea. One of the crew declared that he had always wanted toown some land and immediately went on shore and staked out a double&#13;
dows.&#13;
Work began with a rush and continued throughout the winter. On the November moon Peary ordered me to proceed to Cape Columbia for a series of tidal observations. On this trip | had as companions two Eskimo boys, their wives, and a sailor by the name of Jack Barnes. Rabies is of very common occurrence among the Eskimo dogs of the Smith Sound tribe. With bloodshot eyes,&#13;
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nen we ea SS aS lS lS ee&#13;
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The Humorous Side of Arctic Exploration 301&#13;
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THE “BOWDOIN” FROZEN IN THE WINTER OF 1921-22&#13;
This is the ship on which Mr. MacMillan made his last Arctic trip. The ship’s hatches, as the photograph shows, are protected by snow igloos in order to retain the warmth&#13;
dropped lower jaw and tail, such dogs wander aimlessly, snapping at every dog within reach of their jaws. One showing symptoms of this disease we slipped from harness to protect our other dogs. Throughout the night he charged. repeatedly out of the darkness into the midst of the two teams. Jack was very much alarmed and clearly manifested his fear in every movement, clutching the upstanders of the sledge, stepping lightly on his toes, and peering anxiously into the gloom.&#13;
It has often been said that the Eskimos are stolid, that they are anything but humorous, that they do not appreciate a joke. Quite the contrary, they see the funny side of every- thing. Eging-wah had been watching Jack for some time chuckling to himself at his ap- parent: hysteria. Slowly he crept up behind him and with a terrific growl grabbed the white man by the seat of the pants! Jack went up like a rocket and landed with chatter- ing teeth on top of the load with eyes darting in every direction anticipating another attack. The Eskimos shrieked with laughter revealing to the crestfallen sailor that he had been the victim of a practical joke.&#13;
| may say here that a dog with Piblockto as it is there called, is not feared in the least. | have never known a man, woman, or child to be attacked by a dog in this condition.&#13;
Finally we reached our destination, built&#13;
our snow home, and settled down for ore month’s tidal observation.&#13;
Living so intimately with the Eskimos one naturally has the opportunity of learning much in regard to their language, which by the way, is exceedingly difficult to learn owing to the fact that it is polysynthetic and agglutina- tive. The key to the language is “Kanok atinga?”’ or “ What is its name?” One may learn the Eskimo name for all material ob- jects by the use of this phrase.&#13;
| discovered one night that the rising heat from our oil stove had melted a hole through the roof of our snow house. Pointing to the hole | inquired “ Kanok atinga?’’ One of the girls promptly replied ‘‘Oop-sha-sul-nee-eye’’. | jotted it down immediately-in my note book kept for that purpose, spelling it phonetically, followed by the word “hole”. A few days later | happened to tear the knee of my bear skin pants on the corner of an iron strapped biscuit box. Embodying my newly learned word in the sentence | requested Too-cum-ah, one of the two girls, to get her needle and thread and sew up the hole in my pants. She burst out laughing as did the other girl. Finally, but only after repeated inquiry as to the cause of their merriment, one ventured to reply: “ You asked me to take my needle and thread and sew up the snow hole in the roof of your pants!&#13;
392 Donald&#13;
“What do you call such a hole?”&#13;
“ Keed-la.”’&#13;
“What is a hole in the ground?”&#13;
“ Poo-too,”’&#13;
“What is a hole in ice?”&#13;
“That is another word.”&#13;
“What is a hole in ivory?”’&#13;
“That is another word.”&#13;
“What is a hole in iron?”’&#13;
“That is another word.”&#13;
“Now listen,” | added, ‘‘I do not want any of these words. I want to know the simple word for ‘hole’. She thought a moment and replied: “There isn’t any such thing. lf it is a hole, it is a hole in something or it wouldn’t be a hole!” -&#13;
Our work at this station was upon tides. Jack Barnes, the Newfoundland sailor, and | alternated in our watches every six hours. It was generally necessary to call Jack twice and even three times to arouse him _ thor- oughly. To my surprise, one day | barely&#13;
touched him, using the words “Come on, Jack,” when he fairly jumped out of bed. Noting the bewildered and disappointed look on his face | inquired: “What’s the trouble, He grinned sheepishly and replied:&#13;
Jack?”&#13;
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SHOO-E-GING-WA An Eskimo girl, and her pet puppy&#13;
MacMillan&#13;
“When you touched me | was dreaming | was in my bunk at the foot of East 23rd Street in New York and Cody stuck his head in the cabin and yelled: ‘Come on Jack, let’s go up the dock and get a drink’!”’&#13;
The night before Thanksgiving I told the Eskimos of the observance of the day at home. As they were particularly interested in the large amount of food consumed | promised them a bit extra for the day. It didn’t seem like much of a dinner, a tin cup of tea, eight small crackers, and a third of a can of corn each. I wondered what we could have as an extra. | happened to think that the cook had placed in my box a frozen jar of cran- berries. Then | had visions of a cranberry pie such as | had seen in bakers’ windows with the crossed straps and red squares. Just how to make that pie was a problem with no flour and no oven, but Thanksgiving was not Thanksgiving without a pie. | pounded and ground up the crackers as well as | could, poured them into a tin with a little water, and stirred up the mess, which looked very much like chicken feed. I knew | must have shortening and also knew that it must be some kind of grease. In my kit box | found a tin of what | thought was musk-ox tallow, heated it up and poured it all into my mixture. It now presented a slippery appearance. | spread it on the bottom of a tin plate and dumped on the cranberries. With a spoon 1 dribbled the straps across the top first one way then the other. It really had a very good resemblance to a pie.&#13;
The oven was quickly fashioned from a ten- gallon oil tin. Some fifteen minutes or so following the lighting of the stove, | heard a sizzling and a sputtering. To my consterna- tion the grease was boiling up through the top of the pie and dripping over the edge of the plate. My red squares had disappeared, my pie was of a uniform yellowish appearance. It was evident that it would never become hard by baking, therefore why not freeze it? 1 dropped out through the hole in the floor of the igloo and crawled along the snow passage to a snow bank near the entrance and there buried my pie.&#13;
In the evening, following a drama enacted on our snow bed in lieu of a stage, | served the pie to the delight of our Eskimo friends who were loud in their praises of the new dish.&#13;
On the December moon we started on our return journey to the Roosevelt ninety miles&#13;
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The Humorous Side of Arctic Exploration&#13;
to the eastward at Cape Sheridan. The men on board ship took special delight in enumerating the delectable dishes which Charlie, our cook, had prepared for Thanksgiving and ended the list with the inquiry “What did you have?”’ “A cup of tea, crackers, sweet corn, and a pie.”&#13;
“Where did you get the pie?”&#13;
“ Made it.”&#13;
“What did you use for flour.”&#13;
“Crackers.”&#13;
“Where did you get your shortening?”&#13;
“Used a tin of musk-ox tallow.”&#13;
Our doctor sat reading across the ta- ble and with an amused look repeated “What did you use?”&#13;
“That tin cube of musk-ox tallow | found in my box.”&#13;
“That wasn’t musk-ox tallow. that in there for frost bites. tube of boric-acid salve.”&#13;
“It was a very good pie neverthe- less,”&#13;
Our Eskimo travelling companions were so much interested in daily notes that | endeavored to teach Kood-look-to some of the letters of the alphabet. It was amusing to watch him writing up the account of the day’s work, but embarrassing for me to be called upon to read what appeared to be the mental debauch of a typist.&#13;
As we travelled along the north Greenland coast one day with Kood-look-to and Kio-tah far in the lead | noticed near a spot of blood- stained snow the letters drawn with a whip stock “ RM E4M”. I hadn’t the faintest idea what the Eskimo tried to convey, and drove on. That night in camp the Eskimo turned to me with the inquiry, “ Did you see that letter | wrote?” “Yes.” “What did it say?” Asa compliment to his chirography and to encour- age him in further work it behooved me to translate that Sanskrit. There was blood on the snow. There was an Arctic hare in the spot. It was easy. With confidence | re- plied, “Kood-look-to has killed a rabbit.’’ “Nearly right,” exclaimed the astonished and highly delighted Eskimo, “One mistake, Kio- tah has killed a rabbit.”&#13;
I put It wasa&#13;
Following my return from the northern point of Greenland, Peary ordered me to proceed to Greely’s old headquarters in Lady Franklin Bay known as Fort Conger. While&#13;
A SUN BATH WITHIN&#13;
The short summers of the North are very warm, and this youngster, sitting in the sunlight, needs no protection from the cold, although he may from the mosquitoes. This picture was taken as near the North Pole as&#13;
12 DEGREES OF THE POLE&#13;
Panama is to the Equator&#13;
there in June the snow began to melt from the ground revealing refuse of all kinds, among which | noticed a length of telephone wire and one mouthpiece. I explained to my Eskimo boy that in my country that wire went over the tops of poles to a great distance and that we talked through that wire, and that a man far away held his ear up to the end of the wire and heard everything we said. The boy was very much interested and inquired as to the particulars of the construction which I supplied as well as I could. My tidal watch was up and | went to bed in one of the small huts. Upon awakening several hours later to my astonishment | beheld a rudely con- structed telephone line stretching across the grounds for some two hundred yards. The Eskimo had constructed his five-foot poles by splitting boards taken from the main house. Around the top of each pole he had twisted the wire, and hanging to one end was the old mouthpiece. Holding this to his mouth he yelled something in Eskimo, dropped it quickly, and sprinting to the other end of the wire held it to his ear. He con- cluded that he wasn’t quite quick enough, and tried it again with flying hair and with the same unsatisfactory result. Detecting my nose projecting around the corner of the door-&#13;
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A CAPTURED POLAR BEAR CUB&#13;
way, he instantly discontinued his experiments and with a laugh declared that he knew I| was lying, for no man could talk through a wire without a hole in it!&#13;
Jack, the sailor, was a keen sportsman. The Eskimo knew it. While Jack was off watch and asleep Kood-look-to placed three dead ducks in a most life-like position on the edge of the ice across a wide crack. With strings through the mouth he had pulled back the head and neck and there they sat in the warm sun resting comfortably after an ardu- ous day of diving for shell fish.&#13;
As soon as Jack awoke the Eskimo lost no time in communicating the fact that there were three fat ducks right in front of the house. Jack beamed all over as he filled the magazine of his .22 Winchester. Cautioning us not to alarm the quarry, our ardent game getter dis- played an example of stalking which | have rarely seen equalled, much to the amusement of the Eskimo convulsed with laughter and holding both hands to his mouth. Bending low, on hands and knees and on his belly, he crept ever closer through the rough ice ad- joining the shore until sure of his bag, he fired. The ducks sat there imperturbed, enjoying their rest and the warm sunshine. A new experience—perhaps they were deaf, thought&#13;
Donald MacMillan&#13;
Jack. He fired again and was astonished beyond measure to note that they still sat there but a few yards away looking him right in the eye. Following this third shot he jumped up from his place of concealment and ran towards them wondering if he had killed all three successively. Standing at the edge of the crack he looked across the narrow strip of water at the three ducks still unafraid. He waved both arms. No movement. Wear- ing a foolish look on his bewildered and grimy face he trudged back to the house with the words:&#13;
“Where is that damn Eskimo?”&#13;
This same Eskimo astonished Captain Bartlett some two weeks later upon our arrival at the ship. No native of the Smith tribe speaks English, but a few know a few expressions which they repeat parrot-like and at times with startling effect. The sailors were busily engaged in hoisting the quarter boats to the davits. One stuck in mid air due to a twisting of the fall. Bartlett stamped impatiently and rolled out a few very strong Anglo-Saxon words. The Eskimo looked over the rail at the boat, looked sym- pathetically at Bartlett, took his pipe out of his mouth, spat on deck, and said in a most nonchalant way, “Too dam disgusting!” Nothing ever quieted the captain so effec- tively. He was speechless with surprise for about a minute.&#13;
On our return trip when in the pack ice of Kennedy channel we frequently encountered seals in the open pools. Each man ran for his gun and all blazed away in chorus. This was.a common practice among our Newfound- land seamen, and one which was not at all dangerous to the wild life of that region. Following such a fusillade one day, and tke jibes and laughter of all on deck, all were startled by the words from the sky “Damn fool, waste ammunition!” The comment cf old Oo-tah from his vantage seat up in the crow’s nest at the top of the mast.&#13;
The fifty-year old Erik was charted to trans- port our expedition north in 1913. Every ship has almost as distinct a personality as man or woman. Some are honest and above board, others tricky and treacherous. Some you may depend upon to be consistent under certain conditions, others are as uncertain as the winds. Some are lean, small boned, delicate, and cadaverous looking; others are round, portly, and ponderous in bulk. The&#13;
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The Humorous Side&#13;
Erik was of the latter type, with head up, chest out and shoulders thrown back she labored slowly with asthmatic breath, her lungs wheezing and bitterly complaining over her long journey.&#13;
On the starboard bow, sunning themselves on a pan of ice, we could see a herd of walrus. Knowing that we had but little meat for our dogs the captain, a Scotch-Irishman, and as portly as his charge, turned to me with the inquiry, “Would you like those walrus?” Upon receiving my answer that we certainly would, without any preliminary warning such as “half speed”’ or “slow’’, he signalled to the engine room “stop!” To the engine-room force this meant nothing less than rocks or an iceberg under our bow! The red-faced two- hundred-pound engineer clambered up the iron ladder, shoved his head up through the engine-room hatch, glared at the captain and yelled at the top of his voice, “ You'll blow her up!” and instantly disappeared to see how much of the order he could safely obey. The old Erzk went sedately on as if determined to reach the Pole. The crest-fallen captain in command of his first steamer, with a puzzled look on his face, looked at the water over the side and noting but little change in speed, anxiously asked, “ What kind of a ship is this that they can’t stop herr” Panting with her&#13;
of Arctic Exploration&#13;
395&#13;
exertions she finally slowed down, but far beyond the walrus.&#13;
The four years at Etah, north Greenland, were the four shortest years of my life, due to the fact that we were in new surroundings and had many novel and interesting and laughable experiences, in fact, far too many toenumerate. Upon seeing several dog teams headed toward our house from across the harbor, the cook, anticipating a hungry crowd, filled the oven with cans of frozen beans. Not all of the cans were used, some were left in the oven and forgotten. While our Eskimo servant girl was engaged later in the day in sweeping the floor of our big living room, there was an explosion followed by a shower of beans! Servant girls have left without the formality of giving notice in this country, but never more quickly than ours did that day in Greenland. The beans were still sticking to the ceiling when we departed for home in 1917.&#13;
In the spring one of my men sledged routes from village to village for the purpose of get- ting a few motion pictures. In the absence of a dark room he conceived the idea of fashioning a “changing bag”’ out of blankets, large enough for him to crawl into bodily and there fill the motion-picture magazines with. fresh film. When in the bag and standing erect he might be taken for almost anything&#13;
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A POLAR BEAR NEAR ETAH, NORTH GREENLAND Etah, the metropolis of northern Greenland, consists&#13;
of a few burrows in the&#13;
hillside and little else&#13;
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306&#13;
but a man, especially among the Eskimos, who are very superstitious and “see things at night”’ and this is what a fat old dame in one of the villages beheld when she emerged from her tupik unsuspecting and not prepared to receive callers. Automatically her jaw dropped with the raising of her arms. She emitted a frightful yell and fled to the hill back of the village. It took some time to convince her that she had not actually seen old Torngak, the great Evil Spirit of the North.&#13;
In the spring of 1915 I planned to cross Melville Bay on the January moon. My traveling companion was a Dane in charge of Rasmussen’s trading station at North Star Bay. He who controls trade is a king in the tribe and has everything but the power of life and death and in the old days even that. Nothing of importance is done without his permission. Just as we were about to leave, the Dane exclaimed, “Oh! vait one moment blease!”” Returning a few minutes later he calmly said, “Vell, | have married them.” “Married them! What did you say?”&#13;
“Vell, he said he vanted her and | said, ‘All right.’ Now ve vill go.”&#13;
In crossing the bay in low temperatures, | noticed that the Dane experienced consider- able trouble in dressing in the morning en- deavoring to stand in the nose of his bag while doing so. I suggested that he. place his clothes at his feet in the bottom of the bag at night and dress in the bag. As | had no bag but slept in the snow, Peary method, | always prepared breakfast. At my call: “All out” | noticed quite a commotion in Peter’s&#13;
bag, a rising and falling of the ponderous folds&#13;
which he was accustomed to use, attended with considerable grunting. All was quiet for a few seconds and then | heard in a most disgusted tone, “Oh, my Gott, | have my pants back side on, you know!”&#13;
The soft coal used in our stove at Etah quickly clogged our stove pipe with soot. Job, our cook, conceived the idea of cleaning it by gently lowering a sounding lead from the top of the chimney to the connection on the back of the stove. Green volunteered to do this and in the dark clambered to the ridge pole with the coil of line and heavy lead. Green was as humorous as Job was practical and possibly was intentionally careless in his&#13;
Donald MacMillan&#13;
handling of the weight. Unsuspecting Job, standing in the kitchen listening patiently for the sound of the patent soot cleaner, re- ceived the shock of his life when the eight pound lead crashed through the back of the stove and landed heavily upon the floor!&#13;
The cook not knowing that the line had broken rushed for the door, threw his head back, and yelled up into the darkness: “For God’s sake, don’t do that again!”&#13;
- Job Small, my mate, who has accompanied me now on three trips, is a typical Cape Cod character, quaint, philosophical, and at times very pessimistic, but so much so that he is not depressing to his associates, but is instead a source of enjoyment, strange as that may be. Some twelve miles south of Etah we sat in front of our tent looking out upon the walrus grounds, for we were busily engaged in ob- taining our winter’s meat supply. Back of us was the talus slope rising gently from the water's edge to the vertical face of the cliff above, furnishing an excellent breeding ground for the dovekie or little auk. With a rapid whirr of their short wings they shot down over our heads to the sea and disappeared far off shore in search of shrimps for their young, apparently ever busy day and night.&#13;
Job intently watched the disappearance of each flock and seemed particularly interested in the rapidity of their flight. Finally re- moving his pipe from his mout!: he ejaculated, “They ain’t got long to live going that way!”&#13;
“What makes you think so, Job?” I in- quired.&#13;
“Did you ever see an elephant walk?”&#13;
I nodded.&#13;
“God knows how long they live! Did you ever see an eagle up inthe sky? Notadamn flop to his wings. They live to be a hundred, I guess. Did you ever see a turtle walk? | dunno. They sleep all winter, they say.”&#13;
He sat there musing for a few minutes, then turned to me and said: “I’m going to bed,” and off he went to the tent evidently to test his theory of “ How to live to be a thousand”’, namely, don’t move too rapidly.&#13;
Such incidents during the day lighten the hard work of sledging up over glaciers at fifty and sixty below zero, working through and over the rough ice of the Polar sea and trudg- ing through deep spring snow on the home- ward journey in June.&#13;
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1e Ly id E- e-&#13;
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VIVISECTION AND ANIMAL WELFARE&#13;
Millions of Cattle, Horses, Sheep, and Swine Yearly Saved from Suffering and Death by Humane Scientific Research&#13;
By ERNEST HAROLD BAYNES&#13;
HEN the opponents of&#13;
medical research, in the&#13;
name of Humanity, seek to&#13;
abolish vivisection, they&#13;
seem to ignore the fact that they are striking at a practice which is funda- mentally humane. One “vivisector’”’ working in his laboratory will prevent more suffering to animals than all the officers in all the ani- mal rescue leagues in the United States put together, and, as will be shown, this is an absurd understatement of the facts. And here is no reflection on the animal rescue leagues, whose splendid work I have noted and admired in many cities. I am merely comparing vivisection with activities some- what more familiar to the public and ad- mittedly laudable.&#13;
At this point | wish to state that for the purpose of this article | shall use the word vivisection in the sense in which it is used by the antivivisectionists in their endeavor to prevent all experiments on living animals. To be more specific, | accept the following definition given by the vice-president of The New England Antivivisection Society in the latest pamphlet (1923) issued by that body. He says: “The term ‘vivisection,’ as origin- ally used, implied the cutting or dissection of a living creature in way of experiment as dis- tinguished from treatment, but the term has now by general consent been extended to cover all experiments upon living animals for purposes of scientific investigation, or for any purpose other than treatment, even when such experiments involve no cutting operations of any kind.” The italics are mine.&#13;
Let us try to look at this question from the viewpoint of some person who has at heart nothing but the very best interests of the animals themselves. -When “dumb crea- tures” are sick and suffering what are they to do? When horses have glanders or dourine, when cattle are afflicted with tuber- culosis or blackleg or foot-and-mouth disease, when sheep have anthrax, or swine have hog cholera or dogs have rabies or hook worm—&#13;
what can they do about it? They have no physicians or boards of health; they do not know the nature of their diseases nor the means of preventing or curing them. They cannot even discuss their troubles with one another or with other animals or with men. They cannot come to their own relief. Left to themselves all they can do is to suffer and die, one by one or by millions as the case may be, and left to themselves that is exactly what they do. Now, if they are to have relief from their sufferings; if their diseases are to be pre- vented or cured and their lives lengthened, it is evident that the relief must come from out- side. By the process of elimination we find that it must come from man. Since man cannot communicate with them, to discuss his plans or to ask or receive consent, it is evident that he must use his own judgment and act as he thinks best for the welfare of his stricken fellow creatures. This point settled, he approaches his task.&#13;
Let us imagine an ordinary case, in which he is confronted with a deadly disease of whose nature he knows little or nothing. Thousands of animals are suffering and dying from it, and in some mysterious way it is being spread to thousands of others. Before it can be checked he must find out how it is spread. Perhaps he suspects that it is being carried from sick animals to healthy ones by insects. There is one way to find out if he is right— he must permit a few healthy animals to be bitten by insects which have previously bitten sick animals. By doing this he may condemn those healthy animals to sickness and death. It is an experiment for a “ purpose other than treatment,” therefore it is vivisection. Being a man acting as an agent for those animals, has he a right to try it? Would man himself consider it right that healthy men should take such a chance in the interest of their fellows? Turn back the pages of history and let us see. At the close of the Spanish-Amer- ican War in 1898 a deadly disease, yellow fever, was rife in Havana. Surgeon General Sternberg appointed a commission consisting&#13;
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    &#13;
398&#13;
of three doctors—Reed, Carroll, and Lazear— to find out how the disease was transmitted. At that time there was no animal known to be susceptible to yellow fever, and as ex- periments must be tried, human volunteers were called for. A number of men, including all the members of the commission, responded, and submitted to some most distressing ex- periments, which yielded only negative results. It was suspected that the disease was carried by mosquitoes and in order to find out if this were true, some of the volunteers allowed themselves to be bitten by mosquitoes which had previously bitten yellow fever patients. Those so bitten came down with yellow fever. Lazear and another man died,, and Reed barely escaped with his life. But they found out how yellow fever was transmitted, and thus furnished the basis for an intelligent campaign during which Havana was cleared of mosquitoes and consequently of yellow fever. Since then and by similar methods in other places, this disease has been practically abol- ished. Those few men suffered and died, and by so doing saved many thousands of their fellows from suffering and death.&#13;
Now it is admitted that a man is justified in risking his life for the chance of saving one fellow being from a fire or from the ocean, how much more then is he justified in risking it on the chance of saving ten thousand of his fellows from disease. And if he takes such action when it seems to be for the best in- terests of bis own kind, as agent for the ani- mals who cannot act for themselves, should he not see to it that a few of them are sacri- ficed when it seems to be in the best interest of their own kind? All people having great&#13;
   &#13;
Ernest Harold Baynes&#13;
responsibility for the welfare of animals be- lieve that he should do this, and because they act on this belief, millions of animals are saved annually from suffering and premature death.&#13;
Of course no one claims that these experi- ments are carried on solely for the purpose of keeping the animals well and happy; but the fact remains that they are kept well and happy and none the less so because their wel- fare means prosperity to our livestock indus- try and more food for a hungry world.&#13;
The modern scientific method of dealing with disease in animals was developed by Pasteur, whose wonderful investigations fi- nally led up toa crucial experiment by which he undertook to prove that he could success- fully vaccinate sheep against anthrax, a dis- ease which was devastating the flocks and herds of France and also causing great loss of human life. The test was begun on May 5, 1882, at the Pouilly-le-Fort farm near Melun, and Pasteur’s reputation hung on the result. A large crowd of farmers, veterina- rians, doctors, and others gathered for the event, and most of them were sceptical to say the least. Fifty sheep were used in this ex- periment. Pasteur inoculated twenty-five of the sheep with his protective vaccine. On May 17th, he gave the same animals a second protective vaccination. The other twenty- five were not vaccinated. On May 31st he declared the twenty-five vaccinated sheep “protected’’ and the unvaccinated ones “unprotected.” Then he gave all fifty a full strength inoculation of anthrax virus. By June 5th, he predicted, all the unprotected sheep would be dead and all the protected sheep would be alive. He did not have to&#13;
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REGARDING VIVISECTION THESE PIGS ARE NOT “ON THE FENCE”&#13;
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Scientific research has developed many methods of disease prevention, and many herds of&#13;
hogs are healthy and contented because of methods of prevention discovered through vivisection&#13;
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ng by fi- ch $S- is-&#13;
nd&#13;
ay ar he \a- he ay »X- of Jn nd ‘y- he ep 1es ull By ed ed&#13;
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eae&#13;
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Vivisection and Animal Welfare 399&#13;
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THE BENEFICIAL RESULTS OF VIVISECTION&#13;
These sheep are four months old, and average 68 pounds weight. They have been kept free of stomach worms, a common sheep disease, and other troubles because research has pointed out preventive methods and cures&#13;
wait even that long for his results. When he arrived at the farm on June 2nd, twenty-two of the unprotected sheep were already dead and the other three were dying. All the vac- cinated animals were in perfect health. The sceptics were convinced, France rang with Pasteur’s praises, and his methods were adopted everywhere. The saving of animal life in France due to Pasteur’s discoveries more than paid the Prussian War indemnity of 1871, which amounted to five billions of francs. Any one with an imagination must realize that this also meant that millions of animals were saved from the suffering incident to disease.&#13;
Among the many blessings for which we are indebted to Pasteur are a vaccine for chicken cholera and another for swine erysip- elas. The former was discovered by experi- mentsonhens. The latter discovery required the sacrifice of some scores of pigs, but when we find that in one year (1879) a million pigs had died of this disease in the United States alone, the sacrifice seems very small.&#13;
It will help us to realize the amount of suffering endured by domestic animals if we glance at the following table prepared by the United States Department of Agriculture in 1915. It shows the annual money loss sus- tained by our country over a period of thirty years as a result of disease in domestic animals.&#13;
DIRECT ANNUAL LOSS BASED ON RETURNS FOR THIRTY YEARS FROM ANIMAL DISEASES IN THE UNITED STATES&#13;
Hog Cholera owes » . &gt;on Texas Fever 40,000,000 Tuberculosis ; 25,000,000 Contagious Abortion 20,000,000 Blackleg 6,000,000 Anthrax SS ee 1,500,000 Scabies of Sheep and Cattle 4,600,000 Glanders ; 5,000,000 Other live stock diseases 22,000,000 Parasites (trichina and others) 5,000,000&#13;
Poultry diseases 8,750,000&#13;
$2 12,850,000&#13;
For the thirty years this means a loss of $6,385 ,000,000.&#13;
This article is not concerned with money losses as such, nor with the attendant diminu- tion of our food and clothing supplies, or even with the sickness and death of human beings incident to some of these diseases in animals. But no thoughtful person can fail to realize that the amount of suffering involved in the loss by disease of many millions of animals is staggering to the imagination. To com- plain of the suffering of the few laboratory animals sacrificed in an intelligent effort to relieve these millions, is about as sensible as it would be, when a fire is wiping out a city,&#13;
       &#13;
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Ernest Harold Baynes&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
ANOTHER HEALTHY HERD OF SHEEP&#13;
They are free of parasites, and are contented and healthy.&#13;
to object to the ringing of fire alarms, on the ground that it would disturb the firemen. Our Department of Agriculture at Wash- ington is very much alive to the importance of preventing such appalling losses, and it has a special bureau—The Bureau of Animal Industry—which is forever working on the problems involved. One of its most impor- tant duties is to prevent the occurrence of disease. Where this cannot be done the dis- ease must be checked and brought under control. In all this work vivisection is used; a comparatively few animals being sacrificed for the good of the many. One can hardly get a better idea of the importance of vivi- section from the standpoint of the animals themselves than by noting the headway which has been made against hog cholera, which had been causing the greatest loss of any single disease affecting American live- stock. By experiments on seventeen hogs there was discovered a serum which will pro- tect swine from this disease. In 1921, owing to extensive use of this serum, the loss was reduced from $75,000,000 to $27,907,000, a saving of about $47,000,000 to the farmers of this country in the case of one disease. But it is the welfare of animals that we are con- cerned with in this article. Forty-seven million dollars is the equivalent of say a mil- lion hogs. Here are a million animals that have been spared the suffering incident to&#13;
Furthermore they will ultimately become healthful food&#13;
disease, at the cost of suffering inflicted on a few of their fellows. What real lover of ani- mals could wish the million to suffer in order that the few might be spared?&#13;
Let us take the next item on the list—Texas fever—which had been causing an average annual loss of $40,000,000. Years ago Dr. Theobald Smith, then with The United States Department of Agriculture, began to investi- gate this disease. He discovered that it was caused by an internal microscopic parasite which he found in the blood and in the liver and other organs of the sick animals. How this parasite was carried from sick cattle to healthy ones, no one knew, but he began to experiment. He placed healthy animals in enclosed pastures in which other animals had died of Texas fever. They, too, quickly sick- ened and died. Ticks were suspected of being the means of transmission, and another series of experiments proved the suspicion to be well founded.&#13;
These experiments had revealed the hither- to unknown and most important fact that in- sects may be a means of transmitting disease. Dr. Simon Flexner has expressed the opinion that but for this discovery our knowledge of yellow fever probably would have been long delayed, and Dr. Ernest Charles Schroeder of the U. S. Bureau of Animal Industry has pointed out that this knowledge in turn led to the clearing of the Panama Canal Zone and&#13;
 &#13;
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Vivisection and&#13;
the building of the Panama Canal. Yet there are those who would have prevented these experiments because they were made “for purposes other than treatment.”&#13;
Let us see what those same experiments have done for the cattle themselves. Seven- teen years ago there were about three quarters of a million square miles of territory in this country, chiefly in the Southern states, quar- antined against Texas fever. On this vast area, nearly three and a quarter times as large as the former German Empire, were pastured millions of cattle. The disease and the quarantine necessary to control it, were crippling the Southern livestock industry— but that is another story. Think of the al- most innumerable infected herds, every animal suffering with ticks which not only sucked its blood and irritated its skin but gave it a fever which sapped its strength and its very life. Every year more than one eighth of all the cattle quartered in that area died from this one disease.&#13;
In 1906 The U. S. Bureau of Animal In- dustry in co6peration with state and local authorities began the stupendous work of exterminating the ticks and freeing our cattle from Texas fever. Following further experi-&#13;
Animal Welfare 401 ment there was prepared an arsenical solution which would kill the ticks without injuring the animals, and millions of cattle were “dipped’’—that is, made to swim through long baths filled with this solution. As a result of years of persistent effort 518,172 square miles, or 71 per cent. of what formerly was known as “the permanently infected area’’ have been released from quarantine, and the vast numbers of tormented animals made comfortable and happy. This work, based on knowledge gained through vivisec- tion, is still going on, and will be continued until Texas fever is stamped out.&#13;
The third item on the list is tuberculosis, which causes a money loss of $25,000,000, and discomfort and death to the great number of animals represented by that large sum. It is combatted by the use of the tuberculin test, which makes it possible to determine at once whether an animal has the disease or not, in- stead of waiting for symptoms which may not appear until other cattle and perhaps children as well have become infected. Good headway is being made, and it is probably only a ques- tion of time before tuberculosis in cattle will be exterminated and its recurrence prevented.&#13;
Similar work is being carried on for the&#13;
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eo.&#13;
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DIPPING CATTLE&#13;
The trough is filled with a strong mixture through which the cattle are forced to swim. Hogs and sheep are also put through similar baths. Vivisection taught us the advisability of dipping animals&#13;
 &#13;
Ernest Harold Baynes&#13;
 &#13;
A HERD OF REGISTERED CATTLE NEAR MARIETTA, GA. This herd of cattle is free of disease, because other cattle have been experimented on to determine the best&#13;
methods of prevention and cure.&#13;
control of glanders, a dreadful disease of horses, to which men also are subject. It is incurable and before it makes known its presence in the natural way, it may be com- municated to many other horses—perhaps at a common drinking trough—and thus cause wholesale destruction. In fact, some horses are simply “carriers,” and unknown even to their owners, go about spreading the disease, meanwhile showing no outward signs of it themselves. But by what is known as the mallein test, it is possible to tell almost at once, whether a horse has glanders or not. A preparation discovered and developed by vivisection is injected into the eyelid. If the disease is not present nothing happens, but if there is the slightest taint, the injection is followed by a reaction in the form of inflama- tion, and the horse can be destroyed before he infects his fellows or his owner. During the World War, every horse coming into an army which had an efficient veterinary ser- vice, was given the mallein test, and as a re- sult glanders was almost unheard of through- out the great conflict, in which enormous numbers of animals were used.&#13;
The space allotted to this article will not permit me to do more than suggest that while vivisection is contributing to our knowledge of the diseases | have mentioned, and through our knowledge, to the control of these diseases, it is also contributing, in greater or less degree, to our knowledge and control of all the other plagues which afflict our live stock. Con- tagious pleuro-pneumonia, rinderpest, foot- and-mouth disease, and blackleg in cattle, dourine and surra in horses and cattle, scab and internal parasites in sheep; Malta fever&#13;
’&#13;
For every ‘‘vivisected”’ animal thousands of its kind eventually benefit&#13;
in goats, hookworm and mange in dogs, tularaemia and mange in rabbits, and many diseases of farm poultry, are only some of the troubles which are being eradicated, kept under control, or excluded from our country by methods based on knowledge acquired and methods developed by the practise of vivi- section.&#13;
And although the writer has purposely given that view of vivisection which he be- lieves the animals themselves would take if they knew what was best for them, he has done so solely for the purpose of showing that even as an eliminator of suffering in live stock, vivisection is the most humane practice known to man. By no other means has he been able to prevent and control the diseases of animals and the pain which is incident to these diseases, and the fact that he usually does this from motives of self-interest, does not lessen in any degree the comfort which these dumb creatures receive.&#13;
Is it any wonder, then, that J]. R. Mohler, Chief of the U. S. Bureau of Animal Industry —the man with perhaps the greatest respon- sibility for the welfare of animals in this country—said not long ago:&#13;
“In the light of my knowledge of what animal experimentation (vivisection) means to human welfare, | can say without extrava- gance that most terrible consequences would inevitably follow upon the general adoption throughout the world of the programme of prohibition and regulation of, and interfer- ence with, animal experimentation that is advocated by the opponents of this funda- mentally important means of the scientific investigation of disease.”&#13;
 &#13;
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF&#13;
STANLEY&#13;
BALDWIN&#13;
Great Britain’s Relief at Having at the Helm of State a Man Who&#13;
Represents Her Steady and Solid Qualities.&#13;
The Pleasure of&#13;
France at Having a Man to Deal with Whose ‘“‘No”’ Means “‘No”’&#13;
By MARK&#13;
HE writer spent some months of&#13;
the present spring and summer in&#13;
Europe. As it happened, the trip&#13;
coincided with the occurrence of an&#13;
event which the present writer has looked forward to, ever since the Paris Peace Conference, as likely to be, whenever it should occur, the first dependable sign of an actual and definite turning of the world in the direc- tion of stability. This event was the passing from power of the last of the war leaders, the last of those who guided the destinies of their respective countries through the war. The theory took only minor account of the abilities or characters of those war-time leaders. It was rather that the mere fact of a man having been Premier or Prime Minister during the war disqualified him from the possibility of success as a leader in the period of peace. And in the case of Lloyd George (all the other war leaders had long ago passed off the stage) it has always seemed that there was funda- mental and inherent in him just those qualities of temperament which, however well they equipped him for the alert, quick-stepping, opportunity-grasping leadership of war, by that same token disqualified him for the more sure-footed business of leading the world toward peace. Furthermore, what is equally important, the reputation of Lloyd George had made, the picture of him that had been built up in the public mind, was the contrary of those qualities and that kind of personality to which the people, in the differing mood and point-of-view of peace, are likely to give their confidence. Also, in addition to this theory, and in proof of it, it is the clear fact of recent history that Lloyd George, whether through bad luck or bad judgment, or through both, did several things during the period since the Armistice which, instead of promoting peace, delayed it and promoted further chaos.&#13;
SULLIVAN&#13;
Therefore, since Lloyd George was the official leader of Great Britain, and since Great Bri- tain is the biggest factor in the after-war situation, it seemed clear that the passing of Lloyd George would be the first unquestion- ably convincing sign that the period of confu- sion, of backward going, was truly behind us; and that the world, under new leaders all round, had shifted definitely into forward gear. As it happened, the passing of Lloyd George, and the taking of his place by Stanley Baldwin in May, was accompanied by pre- cisely those conditions (consisting chiefly of the personal qualities of the new leader) which gave the most concrete augury of a better time.&#13;
Lloyd George, of course, had really passed out with the election of several months pre- vious. There had been a comparatively brief interval during which the helm of the British Government had been in the hands of Bonar Law. But during that interval, Bonar Law’s health had been such as to handicap him to a degree that was not only obvious to those close to the Government, but actually known and felt with vague inquietude by every news- paper reader. Asa result, the national feeling had been one of uncertainty, a feeling short of the sensation every one longed for, the sen- sation of having made a fresh start for a long pull. Toward the latter part of May, the state of Bonar Law’s health was appraised by his physicians, and by himself and his friends, as such that he could not look forward with confidence to bearing the heavy strain of his office for a sufficiently long period to set the country definitely in the new course that everybody felt was necessary. Taking ac- count of this, Bonar Law resigned, and his place at the head of the British Government was taken by Stanley Baldwin. Essentially, Mr. Baldwin is the real successor of Lloyd-&#13;
 &#13;
404&#13;
George—the few months of Bonar-Law’s feeble health was but an interlude. It was the elevation of Stanley Baldwin that was the real turning-point and marked the entrance of Great Britain into a new era—not only Great Britain but also, in the present writer’s judg- ment, the whole world.&#13;
At the time this happened, the writer was in a position to observe the psychological aspects of the change, both upon those who, in the inner places of politics and business, feel themselves responsible for the course of Great Britain during what all expect to be a difficult time, and also upon the wider public. These psychological aspects of the change were as definite as something you could see and touch. The writer has never seen, in any American change of administration, nor as the result of any American election, any more sharply defined transition of public sentiment. Hardly ever was there so obvious the sigh of relief over uncertainty passed, followed by the long fresh breath of sober confidence and grave determination for the future.&#13;
It was not that Lloyd George was disliked. On the contrary, even the most definite of the expressions of relief over his passing were usually tempered by a smiling affection for the charm of his personality, the infinite variety of his temperament. But there was, over the replacing of Lloyd George with a man of less variety but more simplicity, something like the sensation with which you step out upon solid ground at the end of an airplane trip in which the pilot has treated you—with- out always consulting you as to whether you really wanted it—to nose-dives, pirouettings, and all the other variations of aerial excite- ment within the repertoire of a pilot who for himself fattens upon the exhilaration of situations where the outcome is doubtful.&#13;
DIVIDING LLOYD GEORGE’S CAREER&#13;
OR the condensed and (so far as regards characterization of Lloyd George) the frankly superficial purpose of the present article, let us put a mark at the ending of the&#13;
war, at Armistice Day; and divide Lloyd George’s record as Prime Minister of Great Britain into two parts, first his management of the war, and then his management of the peace.&#13;
As to his management of the war, assume that it was good. It is an assumption that not all will agree with. But many will assent&#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
to it, who think that the other part, the management of the peace, was bad. Of the difference between the two there is a single figure of speech, uttered by Lloyd George himself, that tells the whole story. He was attacked for something he had done at the Genoa Conference, one of those quick devices of daring inconsistency with which he plucked the semblance of success out of the fact of failure. He replied, in effect, that when the world is in chaos it is like being captain of a ship in a storm. Under such circumstances, he said, it is a sufficient virtue if you merely keep the ship from sinking; anything you do, short of letting the ship go down, is justifiable; you must not hesitate to take advantage of any current, of any wind that blows; and, provided you come out of the storm with your ship afloat, you must not be judged because the passengers find themselves headed in a direction precisely opposite to that in which the captain gave them to understand he was going to take them.&#13;
That figure of speech was a concrete and unqualified assertion of the doctrine of opportunism in politics. And its relevancy to the Lloyd George of war, as contrasted with the Lloyd George of peace was this; in war, opportunism is justified—at least it is justified to some extent, an extent that varies with the moral basis of judgment of the individual critic, with his distance from the scene, his detachment from the passion of the conflict.&#13;
A time when sticking another human being with a bayonet is exalted as a supreme virtue, is hardly a time to quibble over the moral aspects of political opportunism.&#13;
But in peace-time, opportunism is a differ- ent matter. Not only is it different inher- ently; the public judgment of it also is different. That is one reason why, in all countries, the war-leaders have found it difficult to remain in power after the coming of peace. The very things they did, the reputation they built up for quick changes of strategy adapted to changing crises—all that is in itself a disqualification for keeping the confidence of the people after peace has come. And in Lloyd George’s case, there was a feeling that his swift opportunism was not a mere war-time device but was part of the very deeps, or, if you want to listen to his more savage critics, the shallows of his character.&#13;
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The Significance of Stanley Baldwin 405&#13;
In any event, the courses which Lloyd George followed, or attempted and abandoned, after the war ended, not only confirmed his war-time reputation for a chameleon adaptive- ness to the need of the moment, but were gravely disturbing in themselves. As to Ireland, as to France, as to Russia, as to Germany, it had seemed to be a policy with no greater continuity than willingness to “try anything once.” The war was over. There was no longer imminent danger of the ship sinking. That excuse for disquieting changes of direction had gone. The need was to lay a new course toward some definite goal of fixed principles. The longing of the British people was for a straight and simple course toward a definite and easily understood goal—for a less flashing but more steady gaited leader—for one with more fixedness of purpose, even though with less resourcefulness of method—for one who would more accurately symbolize in his person, and express in his actions, the direct quali- ties of the English mind, than the brilliant temperamental Welshman ever could.&#13;
THE NEW PREMIER&#13;
O THIS vague but very appealing spirit-&#13;
ual hunger of the British people, Stanley Baldwin was a complete answer. Baldwin is true to the English type, upright in business, not too imaginative, not subtle at all, simple in manner, direct and clear in statement; in argument, humorously good-natured but firm. Lloyd George once, when engaged in a political contest with a recent English states- man, described his adversary as “honest to the verge of simplicity.” It is not certain whether Lloyd George meant the phrase as a sneer (In any event it was the fate of Lloyd George, toward the end of his power, to have come to having caused many to think of him as a man who would use this phrase as something in the nature of depre- ciation).&#13;
Mr. Baldwin took this phrase to himself. To have done so was perhaps a little more self-conscious, a little more unctuous than is characteristic of him. But he himself shared deeply the general feeling of England about the disquieting qualities of Lloyd George’s temperament, and the need for a leader of, let us say, less complex character and tempera- ment. Feeling this way, in a speech he made a few weeks after his elevation, about the&#13;
causes of the success of himself and his party in the election; he said:&#13;
The election was won by a phrase of Mr. Lloyd George, a phrase of six words and six words only. There was a vast new electorate in this country. A new democracy had been called into being by the last Reform Bill. There were millions of voters unattached to any party, and up and down the country people were wondering exactly what they wanted and for whom they could vote. One morn- ing they opened their newspapers and read that Mr. Lloyd George said that Mr. Bonar Law is honest to the verge of simplicity. The British people said, ‘‘By God, that is what we have been looking for!’”” Although | cannot hope to emulate my late leader, Mr. Bonar Law, if those six words can be uttered of me when the general election takes place, I shall be a proud man.”&#13;
That episode, to the extent that it sug- gests unction or self-righteousness, is short of illustrating other qualities of Mr. Baldwin which, essentially, are more marked and more characteristic. He is modest, humorous, and has, to a degree that has engraved itself on his features, the quality of whimsicalness which is never found in men who take them- selves too seriously. That he should have vision is suggested by the fact that on his mother’s side he is a cousin of Rudyard Kipling and a nephew of Burne-Jones. On his father’s side, he inherited business ability and an iron manufacturing and engineering enterprise which he carried on to the point that enabled him to retire and enter politics at forty.&#13;
Primarily, it is the iron manufacturer and the business man that commended Mr. Bald- win, both to his associates who put him for- ward as Prime Minister and to the wider British public. That public felt that here was a simple Englishman, with the charac- teristic qualities of the nation, whose motives and ways of thinking they would understand, and who, in his relations with the rest of the world, would by instinct do the things and say the things that would accurately express the common mind of his race.&#13;
It would be difficult to overestimate the feeling that Mr. Baldwin’s selection gave to the British public, of being on sure and familiar ground once more. It pervaded all classes and all parties. Although Mr. Lloyd George was a coalition Prime Minister and therefore was presumed to represent the people with an approximation to unanimity,&#13;
 &#13;
406&#13;
it is probably a fact that Mr. Baldwin really represents them more broadly and more truly. Officially Mr. Baldwin is a member of the Conservative or Tory party. «The opposition for the present, and probably for some time to come, is the Labor party. Ordinarily one would expect that a Tory party headed by an iron manufacturer would present a perfect contrast to the sentiments, prejudices, and political desires of the Labor party, the kind of target they would most prefer for their attacks. The fact, however, was clearly otherwise. The Labor party has in London a more or less official labor organ, a daily paper. This paper, in its doctrines, is all that a pretty radical labor organ would be expected to be; and it is edited and written by men of exceptional ability, who lack nothing in their equipment for pungent and forceful political controversy. But the Daily Herald welcomed Mr. Baldwin not with brick bats but with bouquets. A typical passage from the labor organ’s comment was this:&#13;
As a business man he has a strong sense of social responsibility. The idea of Disraeli that the landed gentry of England owe it to themselves to improve the lot of their laborers, he tried to adapt totrade. When there was a lock-out, he continued to pay the wages of his employees. His aim of introducing by means of kindness and consideration a new spirit of fellowship between employers and employed may be impracticable, but there is no doubt of his sincerity in pursuing it.&#13;
That was labor’s official welcome to an iron manufacturer, a Conservative, a Tory, when he was made head of the British Government. Imagine Mr. Gompers and the organ of the American Federation of Labor welcoming the head of our Steel Corporation, Judge Gary, to the Presidency in any such language as that.&#13;
As a further illustration of the confidence of the opposition Labor party in the new Prime Minister, it is a fact that in his attitude about France, Germany, and reparations, he has really a greater unanimity of support from the Labor leaders than he has from the leaders of his own party.&#13;
BALDWIN’S PRACTICAL PATRIOTISM&#13;
NOTHER incident, of which the writer&#13;
was told by one whose position caused&#13;
him to have contact with it, but which be-&#13;
came public after, not before, Mr. Baldwin’s elevation to the Prime Ministry was this:&#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
During and since the war, there has been much talk in England of a “capital levy,” by which is meant the taking by the Govern- ment of a fixed percentage of the private wealth of the country—a proposal which, regardless of the questionableness of its prac- ticability, is regarded by most of the wealthy of the country as the last word in socialism, confiscation, communisim, and the like. About the time when one of the spasms of this dis- cussion was at its height, the editor of the London Times received a letter for publica- tion which said that whatever might be the practicability of a universal capital levy, the writer felt that there might be men who would like to make a voluntary contribution of a percentage of their wealth to the State, and who would appreciate a suggestion for a practicable way of doing it. For himself, the writer said, he had decided to give 25 per cent. of what he had to the Government, and had done so by buying that amount in govern- ment bonds, and cancelling them. The letter was signed with the initials “F. S. T.”&#13;
When the editor of the Times received this letter, he felt that before printing it he should verify the facts. He discovered that the writer was Mr. Baldwin. Mr. Baldwin at that time held a minor position in the Govern- ment, known as Financial Secretary of the Treasury, which accounted for the initials. The 25 per cent. of his wealth that he gave was upward of half-a-million dollars.&#13;
The problems that confronted the new Prime Minister all hung about one. And that one was a condition which, as I shall try to explain in a moment, carried him straight back to the contrast between himself and Lloyd George.&#13;
Expressed in terms of the domestic economy of the country, Britain’s great problem was and is the restoration of normal business con- ditions in the world. Expressed in terms of foreign relation, it was and is the restoration of peace and economic stability to Europe. For Great Britain, these two problems are one.&#13;
BRITAIN’S COMMERCE&#13;
REAT Britain lives upon world-trade;&#13;
and any complete paralysis of world- trade would be as effective a devastation of Great Britain as the complete encirclement of the island by hostile and effective submarines. And to the degree that the present state of world-trade approximates paralysis, Britain is&#13;
 &#13;
The Significance of Stanley Baldwin&#13;
menaced in her very life. The actual present expression of it is a million and a quarter of un- employed. These unemployed can only be restored to work, and Great Britain can only be freed from apprehension about its future existence, by the restoration of world-trade to normal.&#13;
For the resumption of world-trade on a normal basis, it can be said with sufficient exactness, that the one essential step is the fixing of the sum which Germany must pay in reparations. So long as German repara- tions remain unfixed, world trade must con- tinue to be restricted. Equally fundamental is the fact that with the amount of the Ger- man.reparations fixed, the rest will follow.&#13;
For Britain, the problem of fixing repara- tions is the problem of its relations with France; and when Mr. Baldwin faced that problem, one of his principal embarrassments was the record of his predecessor, Lloyd George. The French Government had taken a course about reparations which Britain did not deem wise, and-from which Britain had stepped aside. Mr. Baldwin, coming into power in Great Britain as a new figure, could have asked France the simple question, do you or do you not want to come back and coéperater And on receipt of a definite an- swer he could have laid out his course.&#13;
BRITAIN AND FRANCE&#13;
UT the new régime in Great Britain was deterred from so simple and direct a handling of the situation by an uneasy self- consciousness about some of the circumstances of the breach with France. For such a breach, there is, naturally, blame. Naturally also, each blames the other. France blames Britain, and Britain blames France.&#13;
But even among those Englishmen most ready to put the burden of the blame on France, there remained the uneasy self-con- sciousness that some of the blame must be charged against Lloyd George, who had been the Prime Minister of Britain and had con- ducted the negotiations out of which the strain between the two countries grew up. The French put the blame on Lloyd George completely. The British, while not accept- ing that view wholly, nor even largely, had a sufficient sense of penitence about Lloyd&#13;
407&#13;
George’s manners—to use the mildest of words—toward France, to cause the new régime in Britain to want to practise the extreme of tact and patience with France, to do a kind of penance for what had happened during the Lloyd George régime.&#13;
The French feeling about Lloyd George and about Mr. Baldwin, and about the contrast between the two, is illustrated by some&#13;
‘passages in one of the leading papers of&#13;
France on the occasion of the election of Mr. Baldwin. The reader should bear in mind that it is a French point-of-view and a partisan point-of-view, nevertheless there is enough in it that coincides with the recollec- tions of Englishmen, to make them uneasy. The extracts are from a copyrighted article by Stephane Lauzanne, Editor of Le Matin.&#13;
Rarely has the accession of a British Premier been hailed with such warm sympathy from France as the accession of Mr. Stanley Baldwin. The fact is all the more noteworthy that France knows very well that Mr. Stanley Baldwin will probably not approve her Ruhr policy. But France has come to the point where she is, above all, thirsty for clear- ness. She wants to know where everyone stands, and she wants to be sure that everyone will stand in the same place.&#13;
The cause of the violent dislike—a dislike amounting to hate—which the French feel toward Mr. Lloyd George is the extreme mobility of opin- ion which led him to reject on Tuesday what he had suggested on Monday, and to burn on Wednesday what he had worshipped on Tuesday. When a man changes his opinions he must expect that he will have to change his friends. Macchia- velli, however great his capacity may have been, had no friends. And the French put Mr. Lloyd George on the same level as Macchiavelli. ,&#13;
If Mr. Baldwin desires to win the friendship of the French, it will be easy for him. It is not neces- sary that he replies “Yes” at once to all their propositions; but it is necessary that, when he will have replied “Yes,” it will not be noticed a fort- night later that he meant ‘‘No.’’ What poisoned the good entente of France and of England was the Conference of London of May, 1921, where a Brit- ish Premier was seen to accept the figure of 132 millions of gold marks for the reparations, inform Germany himself, run to the House of Commons to solemnly state that the settlement was final, that it was a just settlement—and then be the first to excuse the Germans for not paying the first in- stalment.&#13;
 &#13;
LAFOLLETTE, SHIPSTEAD, AND THE EMBATTLED FARMERS&#13;
What’s Happening in Wisconsin and Minnesota, and Why&#13;
By CHESTER H. ROWELL&#13;
HIS month’s article deals with the radical political revolt as it cul- minated in last year’s elections in Wisconsin and Minnesota. The following and concluding article will cover the outlying states of lowa, Kansas, and Nebraska. The same underlying econ- omic forces were doubtless operating in them all, but on the surface, the organized radical- ism of the West has flowed from two sources, the Non-partisan League of North Dakota and the older LaFollette movement in Wis- consin. The two streams merge in Minne- sota. Inthe adjacent states they mingle with the older Republican-Democratic politics.&#13;
Wisconsin in one sense is not quite in the present story, since nothing new happened there. Senator Robert M. LaFollette and his disciple, Governor John J. Blaine, were both reélected. But actually it was more than a reélection. It was a come-back. And it was in part a re-alignment of forces, which helps explain the new workings of the same forces elsewhere.&#13;
Politically, Wisconsin is a peculiarly one- man state. You can hear all sorts of things in Wisconsin, but they are all about Robert M. LaFollette. If it is business, LaFollette helped or hindered it. If it is religion, one church is for LaFollette and another against him. If it is education, the University of Wisconsin was once for LaFollette and then turned against him. If it ‘is politics, La Follette is the whole story. There is no Democratic party. LaFollette abolished it. The Socialist party has made a league with LaFollette. The Progressive party, in Wis- consin, split on LaFollette. The Non- partisan League was absorbed by LaFollette. The Republican party consists of the La Follette and anti-LaFollette factions. Gov- ernor John J. Blaine is a LaFollette governor, who organized a LaFollette legislature by a LaFollette bargain with Victor Berger,&#13;
to put through a LaFollette programme. Politicians date the eras of their own careers “W. B.” and “A. B.”—“With Bob,” and “Against Bob.” Most of them have been through both. The price of potatoes is im- portant because it helped elect LaFollette. The World War, so far as Wisconsin is con- cerned, was fought over LaFollette. La Follette is a hero and patriot, or a traitor and anarchist; but it is always LaFollette. Every- thing touches him and everybody is for or against him. There are no neutrals.&#13;
In popular reputation Senator LaFollette ranks as a radical and Wisconsin, therefore, as a radical state. In the strict economic sense neither attribution is accurate. La Follette may have been radically insurgent in politics, but he is no economic revolutionist. He is a reformer and an individualist, who has been belligerent, rasping, and non-coéperative in his manner, but has proposed nothing in- tended to subvert the present social structure. He has fought many businesses and business men, but he believes in business. He has always had the support of the radicals and usually the opposition of the conservatives. To the easy classification of the pigeon-hole mind all this labels him “radical.’”’ The real radicals think otherwise, but they have usu- ally worked with him, opportunistically.&#13;
Wisconsin got its radical reputation partly from LaFollette’s speeches—which were frequently more radical than his deeds—and partly by doing some now obvious things first. The direct primary, public regulation of utili- ties, workmen’s compensation and the like seemed radical until their universal accep- tance brought them under the most conser- vative of all maxims, “Whatever is, is right.”&#13;
But even in these older reforms, Wisconsin is not in all respects advanced. It has, for instance, not yet adopted the initiative, re- ferendum, and recall. Amendments to this end were proposed in California and in Wis-&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers&#13;
 &#13;
consin simultaneously, in Janu- ary, 1911. In California they were the law of the state in just eight months. In Wisconsin the present prospects are that they will finally be adopted in 1927, or just sixteen years from the orig- inal proposal. Twice as many years in Wisconsin as it took months in California is not ex- actly exceeding the speed limit. And as to the newer economic radicalism, represented in the State Socialistic experiment of North Dakota, Wisconsin has none of them.&#13;
The campaign of 1922 found LaFollette facing a new situation. Since his last election the World War had intervened, and Senator LaFollette had opposed American entrance into that war and had voted against the draft law. He had also made one speech in which he was misquoted as saying “we had no grievance.” (What he said was “a_ grievance.”’) There had been nation wide in- dignation at his attitude and he had narrowly escaped expulsion from the Senate. Many of his former supporters in Wisconsin had repudiated him on that ac- - count. A check up of an old list of county and local organization leaders showed four fifths of them now opposing him. ‘To win vic- tory out of this situation meant to do a new thing, with new forces.&#13;
For that matter, the personal - defection of former prominent supporters has been a familiar fea- ture of LaFollette’s whole career. Nearly all the safe and sane conservatives whom you meet around the Wisconsin Club were LaFollette progressives once. Partly it is a matter of personal temperament. La Follette is the exact reverse of the Tammany type of “What is the Constitution between friends,” which regards personal loyalty as the only important virtue. His loyalties are impersonal to principles and issues. He uses men and then discards them. Also, men use him and then leave him when they have got what they want. He lost some friends on&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood ROBERT M. LAFOLLETTE&#13;
Senator from Wisconsin since 1905, and governor for four years before&#13;
he entered the Senate.&#13;
has led him into strange company at times, but while the country at&#13;
large seems often to grow restless because of his irritable presence, he&#13;
seems to have the constant support of the voters of his state, who ap-&#13;
parently like his brand of radicalism.&#13;
fifths of his original organized supporters because of his opposition to&#13;
_ our entrance into the War and, later, his opposition to the draft, but he has won again despite their opposition.&#13;
populated by people of German birth or extraction&#13;
Senator LaFollette’s tendency to radicalism&#13;
It is true that he lost about four&#13;
Wisconsin is, of course, largely&#13;
the Roosevelt feud; some for personal rea- sons; some after they had grown old, rich, and conservative, and the largest single group on the war issues.&#13;
The war presented not to LaFollette merely, but to the whole people of Wisconsin, a peculiarly difficult problem. Wisconsin is largely a “German” state. Its earlier Ger- man immigrants were the highly educated Prussian revolutionary exiles of 1848, whose grandsons are now among the leading citizens of the state. Later came a large influx mostly&#13;
 &#13;
Chester H.&#13;
Rowell&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
THE WISCONSIN STATE CAPITOL AT MADISON&#13;
Wisconsin’s radicalism is largely LaFollette, and with the passing of time it seems to grow more so. Much of the op- position to him is due to the War, and during the War public opinion forced many distasteful things down the unwilling&#13;
throats of many super-radicals and pro-Germans.&#13;
The Socialists are strong in the State (Milwaukee has been Social-&#13;
ist since 1916) and even in the Legislature the Socialists are strong&#13;
There are&#13;
of working and farming people. more than 150,000 residents of German birth and of course many more of immediate Ger-&#13;
man descent and tradition. Some of these have lived in all-German communities or neighborhoods, where German speech and feeling lasted longer than would have been possible in a more mixed population. Also there is a large Socialist element in the cities and a large radical element, largely foreign born, in the country which, though without direct German affiliations, was anti-war on general principles. Undoubtedly, prior to American entrance into the war there was a large pro-German element in Wisconsin, and probably a definite majority would have op- posed American entrance into the war if there had been a vote on it. La Follette was probably correct in his estimate that his vote against the war represented his people. The war once declared, Wisconsin did its full part, in troops, Liberty bonds, and public activities, with men of German names fre- quently in the lead. But in war time, con- formity and unanimity are compulsory. The majority no longer tolerates minority differ-&#13;
ences of opinion, or even of feeling. In Wisconsin this enforcement of compulsory conformity was undertaken by the Loyalty Legion. It did its work thoroughly, not to say drastically, but naturally it left resent- ment behind which found voice when peace restored freedom of speech.&#13;
Many other elements later to be enumer- ated combined to make LaFollette’s final numerical majority in 1922, but this was one of the most striking and important. Also— and this is its wider significance—this anti- war vote was an important element in the radical victories in neighboring states. There was a curious transposition of super-patriotism into economic conservatism and of pacifism into economic radicalism visible everywhere.&#13;
The anti-LaFollette campaign on the part of the business class conservatives was con- ducted with characteristic futility. The super-patriots of the Loyalty Legion were now largely active in the American Con- stitutional League, which concealed behind plausible platitudes its real purpose of op- position to union labor. As elsewhere, the part of the “Constitution” for which these&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers&#13;
200 per cent. Americans were most enthusias- tic was that imaginary clause which estab- lishes capitalistic industrialism and com- mands the open shop. As the time for primary nominations approached, mysterious meetings were held in the Wisconsin Club. “Whisper! For heaven’s sake don’t mention my name! But something must be done!” So, finally, a “Citizens’ Republican State Conference” was called. It put up an excellent gentleman, Rev. Dr. William A. Ganfield, president of Carroll College, a small Presby- terian Institution at Waukesha, who ran as a bone dry in the state that made beer famous. Ofcourse he was beaten unmercifully.&#13;
Both sides conducted the cam- paign largely on the issues of 20 years ago, though LaFollette en- dorsed the Non-partisan League and secured its support. ‘Can you not understand this wonder- ful movement which is sweeping over the Middle West?’’, he was quoted as saying, “ It is organized because there is a belief among the people that there is a power that puts them at a disadvantage by controlling the market price of everything they buy. They have appealed tothe Democratic party; they have appealed to the Re- publican party, and they have appealed in vain for relief, for legislation to break the power that took out of their toil just what tribute it pleased.” But he did not much discuss the spe- cific State Socialistic proposals which were the core of the League’s policy in the state of its origin. Wisconsin already had an excellent codperative law and marketing commission, and La Follette took credit for that. He discussed freight rates, railway valuations, and the Esch- Cummins bill, and was supported by both farmers and workingmen on this issue.&#13;
On the war issue, LaFollette’s tactics were interesting. He got the anti-war vote while maintain- ingawarattitude so correct as not to drive away from him pro-war&#13;
4il&#13;
supporters who were with him on other grounds. He took with him an army officer of fine war record who spoke the first hour, saying that proud as he was of his own war record, he would be prouder to exchange it with La Follette’s. (Great applause). Then La Follette spoke for the next 42 hours, first on the war, and then on economics. He de- fended his war record in detail. He had promised his people, he said, to vote against entering the war, and he had kept that prom- ise. Also he had voted against the draft&#13;
@©Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
FRANK B. KELLOGG&#13;
Elected Senator from Minnesota in 1917 and defeated by Dr. Shipstead, a Minnesota dentist, in 1923. behind Kellogg’s defeat, but a reason given in Minnesota for the loss of many votes is that Shipstead, the new radical Senator, made his campaign in a Ford, and. was accepted as one of the common people, whereas Kellogg made the fatal mistake of having money enough to own an expensive car and was politically foolish enough toeallow himself to be seen in it. Washington and their impression that while he is a charming gentleman with his friends he is not a good ‘‘mixer” with the crowd lost him some&#13;
Many and complicated were the causes&#13;
Furthermore, reports of his high social position in&#13;
support&#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
412&#13;
because he was sure it was unconstitutional. But, once the nation was committed to the war he had voted for all measures for its sup- port, with some minor exceptions which he explained in detail. Then he went on for three or four hours more, on general economic and political questions. He was never fin- ished when he ended, and began a new speech the next day from where he had left off, the night before.&#13;
This habit of long speeches, by the way, is only one of the ways in which LaFollette reverses the rules of the game. Mention has already been made of his flaunting the Tammany rule of merely personal loyalty. He also defies that other political and journal- istic fiction that the people are morons, who must be entertained and must not be bored. LaFollette bores them deliberately, with interminable “highbrow” discussions—and they like it, and cry for more. Shipstead did the same thing in Minnesota and Brookhart in lowa, with the same result. Even con- servative candidates for Congress and other offices who gave the people facts instead of oratory and were not afraid to bore them, found these tactics successful in an otherwise radical year. Senator Borah reports that in Idaho the people demanded careful and de- tailed explanations of specific measures, and that they already knew a great deal about them. The Broadway vaudeville fiction that the limit of continuity of the human intellect is seven seconds evidently does not apply to these Western farmers.&#13;
_ After receiving the Republican nomination LaFollette did not confine himself to Wis- consin. He went into Minnesota to cam- paign for Shipstead, the Farmer-Labor party candidate against the Republican nominee, his colleague Senator Kellogg. Two years before, in campaigning Wisconsin he had opposed Harding’s policies and said nothing for Harding’s candidacy. He favored Frazier, Non-partisan Leaguer, against’ McCumber, Republican, in North Dakota. In other words, he made no pretense of Republican “regularity.’’ Yet he was duly elected, as the Republican nominee, by 315,000 majority as compared with his own majority of only 65,000 one year before. Governor Blaine was also re-elected by 317,000, as against his own 115,000 two years earlier. Measured by&#13;
leaders, La Follette had lost most of his former support.&#13;
Measured by the people, he had&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
won the greatest victory of his career. The revolt was complete and in Wisconsin it was Republican.”&#13;
“AN ARITHMETICAL MAJORITY”&#13;
N ARITHMETICAL sum of unrelated elements” LaFollette’s opponents call his numerical majority. First comes the German vote, already mentioned, originally predominantly Democratic, though Republi- can in some counties. The war made it unanimously anti-Wilson and pro-LaFollette. These Germans were normally not radical, but some of them have become so after as- sociating with radicals on other grounds. Then there are her Scandinavians, tradition- ally Republican, but always inclined to radi- calism in economic policies. LaFollette had organized them early on his side, partly by the popularity of his policies among them, and partly by choosing their local leaders for political recognition.&#13;
The farmers had been traditional La Follette supporters, and the general discon- tent culminating in this election year made them more so. Conditions in Wisconsin were much as they were in the other Western farming states, except that the large dairy industry had suffered less severely than the grain industries. Dairy farmers are de- scribed as less given to radicalism, partly because they are too busy to have much time for politics; and partly because they market their product in a more finished state and are less subject to the speculations of mid- “demen. Grain prices had slumped just when freight rates had gone up. Potato prices would scarcely pay freight. Debts were heavy, some of them contracted patriotically under Governmental urging, while credits, to meet or extend them, were suddenly contracted by Governmental policy. Farmers generally were disquieted with the failure of both parties to offer constructive rem- edies, but this disgust did not extend to LaFollette and Blaine, even though they did not at the moment offer much more. The farmers were satisfied that their hearts were in the right place.&#13;
The city working men, especially in Mil- waukee, were avowed Socialists. They had elected Victor Berger to Congress and Dan Hoan, Mayor. Milwaukee has had a Social- ist government since 1916. It is a relatively conservative, right-wing Socialism, which has&#13;
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LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers 413&#13;
not done much actually Socialis- tic. This, however, is partly due to a law passed by a conservative legislature, as soon as Milwaukee went Socialistic, depriving the city of most of its powers of home rule. Milwaukee Socialists, in practice, have been rather laborite reformers than social revolution- ists. Their Communistic wing has split from them on this issue. In 1922, as already explained, the Socialist party by special dispen- sation put up no candidate for Senator and its members gener- ally supported LaFollette.&#13;
The “old stock Americans” have been originally (except their outright reactionaries) largely La Follette supporters, but by 1922 a large part of their older leaders and many of the rank and file had turned against him.&#13;
The arithmetical sum of these elements, plus whatever unclassi- fied votes went for him, consti- tuted La Follette’s majority. Whether they had any real unity is a question not easy of analysis.&#13;
The subsequent history of the Blaine state administration, now for the first time in full control of the government, is another story too long for inclusion: here. The governor organized the leg-’&#13;
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 &#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood GOVERNOR J. A. PREUS&#13;
Now a candidate for the Senate, but at the time of Kellogg’s defeat a&#13;
islature by a combination with candidate for governor. Some political leaders urged Preus to run for the Socialists, but he was by the Senate in the election in which Kellogg was defeated, but he refused&#13;
no means committed to all of their programme, and one of their pet measures—the abolition of the National Guard—was defeated with his open opposition. His own most radical policy was a new tax law, transferring some of the burden of state government from land to incomes and corporation returns. This was so ‘‘shocking”’ that some of the larger business magnates, headed by Z. T. Simmons, bed manufacturer of Racine, threatened to leave the state.&#13;
In Minnesota we pass to a different and more typical situation. Here, under a dif- ferent primary law, the radicals, instead of capturing the Republican party, defeated it with a third party. In Minnesota there is no one dominating personality, and while there are many interesting personal figures—&#13;
and was elected governor, practically forcing, at the same time, Kellogg’s&#13;
renomination&#13;
Senator Kellogg, Senator Shipstead, Gov- ernor Preus,and Mrs. Olesen—these personali- ties are rather the products than the creators of circumstances.&#13;
The outstanding recent dramatic event in Minnesota, as in North Dakota and lowa, is the defeat of a nationally known Senate leader by a radical local candidate. Behind it, however, is a complicated political, eco- nomic, personal, and historic background.&#13;
When Frank B. Kellogg first appeared as a Senatorial candidate six years ago, he was a more or less artificial product. Though he was known as one of the nation’s great lawyers and had been president of the American Bar Association, and though he had made a na-&#13;
 &#13;
414&#13;
tional reputation as “ Roosevelt’s trust bus- ter,” he had not been considered popularly available in Minnesota. His clients had been the steel trust and the great milling and lum- ber interests, and these, while assets to a lawyer, areconsidered liabilities to a politician. But Senator Moses V. Clapp, Progressive, was candidate for reélection in 1916, and big business interests in New York as well as in Minnesota were determined to defeat him. So they instigated thereby, eight country editors to sign a “ popular” demand to Kellogg to run. They spent much money and suc- ceeded in “selling” the slogan “a big man for a big job,” to the people. Kellogg went to Washington and at once took high place, But rumors began drifting back to Minnesota of those petty things which are sometimes more important in politics than the greater ones. Senator Kellogg and his family, the gossips said, moved in the highest social circles in Washington, but were much too good to associate with mere Minnesota Congressmen. The people recalled something of the same aloofness in his relations with them. Kellogg, though a charming gentleman with his friends, is not a “good mixer” with the crowd. If he must move among the people, he travels in a Pierce Arrow, with a chauffeur, and makes&#13;
finished speeches from the other side of the&#13;
footlights. He does not enjoy the ordeal.&#13;
The last two years of his term, Kellogg was accused of playing the game for reélection. He joined the farm bloc, demanded a “ dirt farmer” on the Federal Reserve Board, and generally supported popular policies. But his personality did not fit the picture, and the people refused to take him seriously in this character.&#13;
Long before nomination time far-sighted political observers foresaw Kellogg’s political weakness and thought it best for party success that he retire, preferably for Governor Preus, who could undoubtedly have been elected. Preus, himself, if left to his own inclination and judgment, would probably have pre- ferred this to running again for governor. He had long aspired to the Senate. But the same business interests who were behind Kel- logg for the Senate did not want to risk losing Preus from the governorship. They were afraid that if he did not run, some radical would be elected in his place. So those who do politics insisted that Kellogg and Preus both run. Preus refused to run for Senator&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
and practically forced Kellogg’s nomination.&#13;
A law passed the year before made this sort of political manipulation easy. Minnesota has a direct primary law, but the politicians had succeeded in getting passed a law legal- izing pre-primary indorsing conventions, to make recommendations to the primary. Such schemes usually overreach themselves, as this one (an equally ingenious device in lowa) did at this election. It was easy to set up the convention to indorse Kellogg, but this very fact made it impossible to hold the opposing faction in the party. The radicals had been functioning in Minnesota as in Wisconsin, as a faction of the Republican party, but as soon as they saw the con- vention system practically restored and the delegates packed against them, they refused to play this game and left the party. Kellogg received the convention indorsement without contest from them, and in the primary his only opponent was former Congressman Ernest Lundeen, who was easily defeated.&#13;
MRS. OLESEN, DEMOCRAT&#13;
HE nomination in the Republican party,&#13;
now reduced to its conservative faction, was easy, but the election was a more serious matter. The Democrats nominated Mrs. Anna Dickie Olesen, whose interesting can- didacy and winning personality attracted nation-wide attention. But the Democratic party was a dwindling factor in Minnesota and while Mrs. Olesen ran ahead of her ticket, she was a poor third in the final race. The national magazines paid more attention to Mrs. Olesen than the Minnesota voters did, and though Bryan and McAdoo came in the campaign for her they had little effect. The fact that she was a woman probably lost her at least as many votes as it gained. Her own campaign was very bitter personally against Senator Kellogg, this probably lost him more votes than it gained her. The rest went to Shipstead. Kellogg and Preus also both made the strategic error of pointing out that a vote for Mrs. Olesen would be thrown away, since the real opponent was Shipstead. The voters took them at their words—and voted for Shipstead.&#13;
There was once a Democratic party in Minnesota, which served as the real opposi- tion party and was sometimes victorious. It elected John Lind three times to Congress&#13;
 &#13;
LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers&#13;
and ran him three times for governor, once successfully. But it is now obliterated by the radical third party, and for practical pur- poses no longer exists.&#13;
Now, comes Henrik Shipstead, Senator- elect, and the genesis of the third party movement.&#13;
Shipstead is a tall, raw-boned, second-generation Norwegian. Though born in this country, he speaks with a slight accent. He comes by his radicalism hon- estly. His father left Norway too early to join in the radical movement of the eighties in that coun- try, but he was a mem- ber of the Farmers’ Al- liance, which became the Populist party, in this country. He was an intense man, a mar- tinet in family disci- pline. His son Henrik, now forty-two years old, made his own way through college, and graduated in dentistry at 22. He practised dentistry in a small country town in west- ern Minnesota, and though he afterward moved to Minneapolis, he has lived most of his life among country people and knows their ways and thoughts. “Some people like poker,” says Ship- stead, ‘‘and some gold, but my mania was books and reading.” So he practised dentis- try by day and read books at night, mostly on economics, sociology, and history. Naturally he was led first into an intellectual and then into a practical interest in contemporary politics. He became a “determinist.”” The deep forces, he concluded, work out the fates of peoples, and personalities are merely their accidental agents.&#13;
But Shipstead early suspected that he might&#13;
clean-cut,&#13;
and won.&#13;
Newberry case.&#13;
HENRIK SHIPSTEAD&#13;
A tall, second-generation Norwegian who tilted with his Ford against Senator Kellogg in his Pierce Arrow Shipstead made the most of Kellogg’s sup- port of the Esch-Cummins Bill and of his vote on the Shipstead had no campaign fund and little money, so he began speaking at church picnics. He made long speeches and talked serious economics to the farmers, and the people turned out in huge numbers to listen, and they voted for him&#13;
415&#13;
be one of those agents. He was a member of the legislature of 1916. He ran for Congress in 1918 against Andrew J. Volstead, but was defeated. In 1920 he ran for the Republican nomination for governor, and was defeated by only about 7,000 votes by J. A. O. Preus. The law did not then prevent a candidate defeated for a party nomination from running afterward as an inde- pendent and Shipstead did so. He proved no exception to the rule that such candidacies never succeed, and of course was badly beaten, but he re- ceived some 281,000 votes, against 416,000 for Preus. The Demo- cratic candidate was distanced with only 81,000.&#13;
These candidacies had brought Shipstead to state-wide atten- tion, and he was the obvious candidate to oppose Kellogg in 1922. He would have run for governor in 1924 if this had not happened.&#13;
The Republican nominations having been made with only perfunctory resort to the primary, under one law, the radicals proceeded to make their nominations un- der another law, with- out any primary at all.&#13;
Radicalism had been organized in Minne- sota by the Non-partisan League, imported from North Dakota, but it had been function- ing as a faction of the Republican party. It is against the policy of the League to consti- tute itself a separate party, but “third party tactics,’’ which it regards as technically a different thing, are permissible. This course was followed. A League Conference was held, simultaneously with another meeting of the “Working Peoples’ Non-partisan&#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
     &#13;
416 Political League,’”’ an independent organiza- tion. They agreed on a fusion ticket, with Shipstead for Senator and Magnus Johnson, a former State Senator, for governor. The farmers’ league would have preferred to take the name “Progressive party,’’ as was done in Idaho, but the working men preferred “Farmer-Labor”’, which already had a legal place on the ballot, and they prevailed. There being only one aspirant to each office, the law required no primary, and the nomina- tions were automatic.&#13;
The campaign began, Kellogg in his Pierce Arrow and Shipstead in his Ford. Kellogg defended his record and proclaimed a plat- form liberal to the verge of radicalism. But he had the Esch-Cummins bill, for which he had voted though he disapproved of many of its provisions, and the Newberry case to plague him. Shipstead made the best of the unpopularity of both of these. Kellogg’s colleagues of the farm bloc attempted to come to his rescue, but while Kellogg was defending his record on the transportation act in one hall Senator Capper, speaking for him in an- other hall, was assailing it by precisely the arguments Shipstead was using. The scenery simply would not hold together. A Nor- wegian leader personally friendly to Kellogg prevailed on a farmer friend to go with him to hear Kellogg speak. Kellogg was explain- ing his effort to get a farmer on the Federal Reserve board. “Bunk!’’, said the farmer in Norwegian. “Let’s get out of here. We don’t want a farmer in a banker’s job any- way.”’ And he refused to hear any more.&#13;
Shipstead fitted better into the picture. In the beginning he had no campaign fund and very little money. So he began speaking at church picnics. Minnesota has in many places the Continental Sunday. The farm- people come in for miles to attend church in the morning and then have a picnic in the afternoon. Shipstead talked serious econo- mics to these picnics; long LaFollette-like speeches, two or three hours long, without oratory or entertainment. The people were hungry for that sort of thing, and would turn out 1,000 or 1,500 strong when he was to speak. Then they would take up a collection, “for tires and gasoline.’’ Later in the cam- paign when he was speaking daily, Shipstead was some times delayed and would not arrive at a meeting until ten o'clock at night. The early-rising farmers would wait patiently, and&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
then listen until midnight. An earnest man with an earnest message was what they wanted. If there was no conservative man, of sounder scholarship and wider business experience to give them a more constructive message, whom shall we blame?&#13;
Shipstead frankly acknowledged that he is a pessimist—what in the Populist days was called a “calamity howler’—and when ac- cused of it told Mark Twain’s story of the mysterious stranger who worked miracles but when called on to produce an optimist failed several times, until finally he succeeded by producing an idiot. He assailed the Federal government for first stimulating artificial inflation by encouraging the people to borrow to buy Liberty Bonds and to in- crease farm production, and then by Federal Reserve action precipitating an artificial deflation which deprived them of the means to meet the obligations thus incurred. He attacked the Esch-Cummins transportation act, charging that it “legalized eight billions of watered stock,” raised freight rates just when other prices went down, and guaranteed railroad profits just when farm guarantees were denied. He denounced “the disgraceful Newberry case” and demanded its reopening. He opposed the ship subsidy, the “abuse of the injunction power of courts in labor dis- putes” and the high tariff. Generally he assailed Wall Street and capitalistic control of government and made the usual appeal to farmer and labor sympathy. All of which, it will be seen, is rather an insurgent than a Socialistically radical programme. It did, however, secure him the support of real radicals, from Single Taxers to Communists, whose own views went much further than his. Irrelevant issues, particularly prohibition and the war, pledged the usual rdle.&#13;
Popular rumor had it that Kellogg had promised the Hamm brewing interests to vote “wet.”’ He did vote dry, and these interests, with all that they could influence, were bit- terly against him. Shipstead, too, had voted dry, the only time when he was called on to take a position, in the legislature, but, for the purposes of this campaign, he refused to an- swer questions on the subject, on the ground that it was not in issue. Thus he gained the advantage of the wet defection against Kellogg without alienating any dry voters who might be for him on other grounds. There was a wet stampede for him in the last days&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers&#13;
of the campaign, with charges (which Ship- stead denies) that the brewing interest poured money into the fight.&#13;
The German and anti-war vote would prob- ably have inclined to Shipstead anyway, but it was delivered to him bodily by LaFollette, as the campaign closed.&#13;
417&#13;
senting a national party, was the only serious contender and that a vote for a third-party candidate would be thrown away. Shipstead telegraphed back an open letter, saying in effect: “This is not a question of parties but of saving the homes of the people. The&#13;
only difference between&#13;
 &#13;
Shipstead’s own war record had been good, but early in the war he had come under the ministrations of the super-patriots, who painted his house yel- low, not for anything he had himself done or failed to do, but be- cause the Non-partisan League, with which he was affiliated, was then regarded disloyal. Ship- stead’s own good record was regarded by the League leaders as an asset in 1922, as coun- teracting the bad im- pression made by their own early course, but it did not prevent him from getting the whole anti-war vote. When LaFollette came into Minnesota to campaign for Shipstead his influ- ence transferred the Wisconsin situation, as to this vote, to Minne- sota.&#13;
LaFollette’s Minne- sota speeches were very bitter against Kellogg, and once, losing his tem- per, he went so far as to make reference to the physical peculiarity of a slight stoop in Kellogg’s gait, saying that God had imposed it on him as a stigma of cringing. Even LaFollette’s associates feared that this over-stepping of the line would react against him, but apparently it did not.&#13;
McAdoo, campaigning for the Democratic ticket, also gave Shipstead an opening. He made the statement that Mrs. Olesen, repre-&#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood MRS. ANNA DICKIE OLESON&#13;
The Democratic nominee for Senator from Minne- sota, who, although she ran ahead of her ticket, was a poor third in the final race. was directed against Kellogg, and his mistake in pointing out that a vote for Mrs. Oleson would be thrown away because of the strength of Shipstead, probably gained Shipstead more .votes than it gained Kellogg&#13;
the Republican and Democratic parties is that they work in differ- ent shifts for the same cause—except in emer- gencies like this, when they work overtime to- gether.” This reply struck the popular chord and did much toward counteracting the prop- aganda for party regu- larity.&#13;
So Henrik Shipstead, dentist, was elected United States Senator against Frank B. Kel- logg, great lawyer, by 325,396 to 241,925, with only 79,899 for Mrs. Olesen and will repre- sent. Minnesota in the nation’s councils for the next six years. The Senate will find him a man to be reckoned with. He is not an ag- gressive press agent, like Brookhart, and he has no illusions that he can accomplish any great transformation of the world merely by being one member of the United States Senate. But he is intensely in earnest, a student rather than a scholar, with the radical’s suspi- cion of the motives of those who represent the capitalistic class. The peculiar limitations of his environment have been an asset to him as a politician, tut may be a handicap as a statesman. He has lived in- timately among small people and knows sym- pathetically their lives and feelings. There- fore, they are willing to trust him. He knows&#13;
: %&#13;
Her campaign&#13;
 &#13;
418&#13;
the larger things of business and government from books, and he is therefore acceptable to them as a teacher. But his practical ex- perience has been with small things. Now he is called to test his book knowledge on great things. An attitude of suspicion, backed by a constituency equally suspicions, is not the best preparation for profiting broadly in this new experience. Shipstead is honest. His colleagues will like and respect him. But they need not count on winning him. He is and will remain a radical.&#13;
GOVERNOR “JAKE” PREUS&#13;
IMULTANEOUSLY with this campaign for Senator came another campaign for governor of Minnesota which subsequent events may now give a national significance. Governor “ Jake”? Preus (he pronounces it “Price’’) had long been regarded as the heir- apparent to the veteran Senator Knute Nelson, now eighty years old, five times elected Sena- tor, and for forty years continuously Minne- sota’s representative as Congressman, Gov- ernor, and Senator. Nelson had even made the tactical blunder of declaring Preus heir- apparent. Ina speech in Minneapolis he had said: “| made Jake Preus my secretary and you made him governor, and he is a good one. I made Ivan Bowen Railroad Commissioner and he was a good one. Now, when my time comes to quit, who could be better in my place than Jake, and who better in his place than Jake, and who better in his place than Ivan?” The opening was of course too good for the opposition to miss, and the League again published a famous “King Canute” cartoon, depicting Nelson handing his scepter to the Crown Prince. Nelson’s term was not to expire until 1925, and while he had not definitely announced his retirement at that time it was expected. Preus would have preferred to run against Kellogg in 1922, but had consented, instead, to run for governor for the term which would expire just in time for him to succeed Nelson in 1925. Mean- time, in the words of an old time organization politician “the woods were full of candidates for both places. Preus was trying to steer them all into the gubernatorial campaign, while each of them was trying to steer the others into the Senatorial campaign.” All these calculations, however, were upset by the sudden death of Senator Nelson in May of this year. The “woods full of candi-&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
dates” were all precipitated into the Sena- torial contest, which is going on at this writing, The exigencies of long-distance magazine publication preclude the inclusion of that campaign in this article—beyond a bare foot- note of the result, if that should be announced before the forms go to press*—but if, as now seems likely, Governor Preus should be chosen Senator, to balance Shipstead’s radicalism with his relatively conservative liberalism, some account of what manner of man he is will be of national interest.&#13;
Jacob Aal Ottesen Preus is a_ third- generation Norwegian-American, a graduate of Luther College, lowa (of which his father was also a graduate and long president) and of the law school of the University of Minne- sota. He is forty years old and has been in public office practically all his adult life. He was Senator Nelson’s secretary, governor Eberhart’s executive secretary, insurance commissioner, state auditor, and governor, these offices filling continuously all the years since his graduation from the law school in 1906. As might be expected from his career, he combines the politician’s art of knowing everybody and of never omitting a personal greeting with the scholar’s habit of really studying problems.&#13;
His keynote speech as candidate for gov- ernor was an ingenious, though specious, argu- ment to the effect that inasmuch as a long list of Non-partisan League leaders had been Socialists, and inasmuch as proof-texts could be quoted from Socialist literature against Christianity, marriage, private property, and the right of land owners and employers to vote, therefore, the Non-partisan League is a step toward undermining all these things. He promised that the Republican party would take up the real grievances of the farmers and meet them. Most of his campaign for gov- ernor, however, was devoted not to his own candidacy, but to Senator Kellogg, who was known to be in greater jeopardy. Preus wasa more popular campaigner than Kellogg and he was also more fortunate in his opponent, Mag-&#13;
*Note: Mr. Preus won the Republican nomination and Mr. Johnson the Farmer-Labor nomination, in the pri- maries on June 18th. Each defeated wet opponents, there- by largely eliminating that issue. The final election, therefore, will proceed on the clean-cut issues between the tadicals and the conservatives. Preus is favored by his much stronger personality; but the radical psychology ignores personal qualifications, a fact which gives Johnson a better chance than a comparison of the two men’s char- acters would seem to imply.—C. H. R&#13;
 &#13;
LaFollette, Shipstead, and the Embattled Farmers&#13;
THE MINNESOTA STATE CAPITOL AT ST. PAUL&#13;
 &#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
The state government of Minnesota is necessarily greatly interested in and greatly affected by the farmers and farm problems, and the radical tendencies of farmers have pointed the way that professional politics must take if they&#13;
want farmer support.&#13;
The result has been that the politicians have sometimes been slow to lead, and new leaders&#13;
have taken their places&#13;
nus Johnson, a big voiced dirt farmer, whose English was imperfect and whose manner was not impressive. Even so, in this year of radical reaction and with the handicap of the Kellogg slump, Preus just squeezed through by 14,300 majority. Two years before he had beaten Shipstead, a much stronger candidate, by 134,403.&#13;
As governor, while calling himself a con- servative, Preus has been distinctly not re- actionary. He has promoted rural credits and farm coéperation laws and movements, he called the inter-state price stabilization conference, and has aggressively supported the work of the State department of agricul- ture, under N. J. Holmberg, Commissioner, and Hugh J. Hughes, director of markets, in meeting the grievances and problems of the farmers, the reality and seriousness of which he recognizes. If he should be elected to the Senate out of the present “ woods full of candi- dates,” he will be a party Republican, but of the liberal wing.&#13;
The soil in which has grown this Minne- Sota radicalism, the recent personal and&#13;
political manifestations of which have here been described, is geographically and racially a complex one. In the North are some al- most unexplored tundra districts. The South- ern counties are practically lowan, in products and population. The Red River valley, in the northwest, is identical with the adjacent section of North Dakota, and is inhabited largely by Scandinavian farmers. Many of the central counties are German, and in some of these even second-generation Ger- mans, born in Minnesota, can not speak Eng- lish. The same is true in some isolated Bohemian colonies. In the city industrial districts are many of the “newer” immigrants, from the Mediterranean and Southeastern Europe. Minneapolis is the greatest primary wheat market in the world, and Duluth prob- ably the second, but the wheat now comes largely from farther north and west. Wheat looms large in all political discussions, but Minnesota farmers are actually going more into dairying, which is a conservative business. Minnesota’s egg crop about equals its wheat crop in value. There are iron, copper, and&#13;
 &#13;
420&#13;
lumber resources. “Big Business’’ is repre- sented by the steel trust, the flour mills, the mining and lumber companies, and formerly by the Hamm breweries.&#13;
Yet, with all these great interests, the majority of the people live in the country. If the farmers remain radical, they can, by combining with the radical element among the city working people, control the state. The national headquarters of the Non- partisan League have usually been in St. Paul or Minneapolis, so even North Dakota radicalism has been administered from Minne- sota. For these reasons, Big Business has been more afraid of radicalism in Minnesota than even in North Dakota. In agricultural North Dakota, the farmers have only them- selves to tax, and any Socialistic experiments they may choose to try are therefore self- limiting if they turn out to be unprofitable. In Minnesota there are also the huge indus- tries and mineral resources to tax, so radical- ism could, if it so determined, go much further. So far it has not done so.&#13;
Racial alignments are much as in Wiscon- sin. The Germans are naturally Democratic and conservative, but they vote radical and anti-Democratic, on the war and liquor issues. The Germans drink beer and vote wet. The Scandinavians, if they drink at all, drink strong Akvait and vote dry. They are nat- urally radical. The old-time Americans are individualistic, dry, and Republican. In the older Progressive revolt against corrupt gov- ernment and corporative rule the reaction- aries regarded them as radicals. Now, in the modern economic revolt the radicals regard them as conservatives. The laboring people in the cities are less Socialistic than in Wis- consin, but they support Shipstead personally and to that extent join with the rural radicals.&#13;
REAL GRIEVANCES&#13;
HE farmers have had very real grievances. Farmers blamed, not Nature, but Govern- ment, fora banking system adapted to the credit&#13;
needs of business and not of farmers. They blamed government for the inequality of price deflations which made the farmer’s dollar worth only sixty-seven cents in its power to purchase other producers’ goods. They blamed gov- ernment for protecting railroads and not farmers against a disastrous slump. They were not much interested in credit measures to enable them to get further into debt.. What&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
they wanted was better prices to get them out of debt. If they observed farms in increasing numbers going back to tenantry—that is, into the ownership of city men—they chal- lenged government to find out why and to propose a remedy. They did not hold Nature responsible if Nature’s most direct industry has to contribute, without compensation, the food to support the artificial industries of cities. They were not very open to the Marxian appeal to develop a labor-class con- ciousness, but they did develop a very acute farmer-class consciousness. And they de- manded of political parties that they recog- nize these things as the issues. When, instead, they were offered soporific slogans about the Constitution and Americanism, they turned to those who, even if crudely and unwisely, gave them a hearing on the real problems. They are deaf to appeals to the Ancient Sages, and ask only, “ What are you going to do about it now?”’ To that question the old parties must make answer, or there will be still more radicals elected, to ask it where they can not be ignored.&#13;
INTELLIGENCE OR TROPISM&#13;
HAT is—unless the cynics are right who&#13;
say that “a full belly is always conser- vative.” Conditions in the grain-farming West were disastrous in 1920. They were still bad in 1922. So empty stomachs went radi- cal. Now they are better. Industry and commerce are already booming, and allowing for the usual lag, farming should be booming by 1924. If, in election year, crops, prices, and markets are good, if the sun shines and the rain falls, and Europe becomes able to buy and pay—then to the Republican party will redound all the glory. Harding and a Re- publican congress will be elected and all will be well in this best of all possible worlds. Voting is not an intellectual process, but merely an automatic tropism. Industrial workers may go radical even when times are good, but farmers do it only when times are bad. So we who are Republicans should pray for prosperity—to the greater end of Re- publican victory. Or else, those of us who are high-brows and believe with Aristotle that man is by nature both a political and a rational animal will hope that the Republican party, or the Democratic, will offer some more cerebral motive than a full stomach for voting “right.”&#13;
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wows ww itt WS&#13;
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AN ENGLISHMAN’S ADVENTURES IN THE UNITED STATES&#13;
With Lecture Audiences, Public Men, Sleeping Cars, Central Heating, and the General Public&#13;
By PHILIP GIBBS&#13;
HEN | first visited the&#13;
United States in 1919, the&#13;
whole nation was seething&#13;
with a conflict of opinion&#13;
between pro-Wilsonites and anti-Wilsonites.&#13;
It was not a mere academic controversy which people could discuss hotly but without passion. It divided families. It caused quarrels among life-long friends. The mere mention of the name of Wilson spoilt the amenities of any dinner party and trans- formed it into a political meeting.&#13;
In my first article for the New York Times, recording my impressions of America, | slipped out the phrase that | was “all for Wilson.” I received, without exaggeration, hundreds of letters from all parts of the United States, “putting me wise” to the thousand and one reasons why Wilson’s doings in Paris would be utterly repudiated by the Senate and people. He had violated the Constitu- tion. He had acted without authority. He had tried to commit the United States to his scheme of the League of Nations against their convictions and consent. On the other hand, there were many people who still regarded him as the greatest leader in the world and the noblest idealist.&#13;
Ignorant, like most Englishmen, of the parties and personalities of American politics, at that time, | kept my ears open to all this, but couldn’t avoid falling into pitfalls. | made a delightful “gaffe,” as the French would say, by turning to one gentleman in the Union Club before he acted as my chairman to the lecture | was giving there, and asking him to tell me something of Wilson’s character and history. It was Mr. Charles Hughes, ex- governor of New York, and defeated candi- date for the Presidency against Wilson him- self.&#13;
It was the last question which | ought to&#13;
have asked, as people explained to me later. But | shall never forget the fine and thought- ful way in which Mr. Hughes answered my question and the subtlety with which he analyzed Wilson’s character, without a touch of personal animosity or a trace of meanness.&#13;
| was aware that | was in the pre- sence of a great intellect, and a great gentle- man.&#13;
I had the opportunity of talking to Mr. Hughes in each of my three visits, and when he was Secretary of State in Washington, and each time | was more impressed with the con- viction that he was likely to become one of the greatest statesmen of the world, and, un- like many great statesmen, had a fine and delicate sense of honor and a desire for the well-being, not only of the United States but of the human race.&#13;
Between my first and second visits Wilson’s tragedy had happened, and the United States had refused to enter the League of Nations. The Republican party had swept the country, inspired by general disgust and disillusion- ment with the Peace of Versailles, by a tidal wave of public opinion against any Adminis- tration which would involve the United States in the jungle of Europe’s racial passions, and by a general desire to be rid of a government associated with all the restrictions, orders, an- noyances, petty injustice, extravagance, and fever of the War régime. As a friend of mine said, the question put to the electors was not “Are you in favor of the League of Nations?’’ but “Are you sick and tired of the present Administration?’’ And the answer was, “By God, we are!”&#13;
President Harding reigned in place of Pres- ident Wilson. Owing to the kindness of a brilliant American journalist named Lowell Mellett who had acted for a time as war- correspondent on the Western Front, and who seemed to have the liberty of the White&#13;
 &#13;
422&#13;
House, the Senate, Congress, and every office, drawing-room, and assembly at Washington, I was received by the President, and had a little conversation with him which ended in a message to the British people through the Review of Reviews, of which | had become editor. It was a message of affection and esteem for the nation which, he said, all Americans of the old school regarded still as the Mother Country—a generous and almost dangerous thing to be said by a President of the United States.&#13;
A PRESIDENTIAL ANECDOTE&#13;
TALL, heavy, handsome man, with white hair and ruddy face, the new President seemed to me kind-hearted, honest, and well- meaning, without any great gifts of genius or leadership, and a little timid of the enormous responsibility that had come tohim. A year later | saw him again, and had the honor of in- troducing my son Tony. He was surprised that | had a son of that height and age, and it reminded him instantly of an anecdote re- ferring to Chief Justice White and a little lawyer who introduced a tall husky son to him. “Ah,” said the Chief Justice, “a block of the old chip, I see!”’ | saw a distinct change of opinion after my first visit (1 am not pretending that | had anything to do with it) in favor of closer friendship with Great Britain, and economic coéperation with Europe. In every city to which | went | found at least twoor three thou- sand people, according to the size of my place of lecture, quickly and ardently responsive to the idea that America and Great Britain, acting together, might lift the world out of its ruined state and lead civilization to a higher plane. In city clubs, women’s clubs, private dinner-parties, drawing-room meetings, | found great numbers of people desperately anxious about the responsibility of the United States toward European nations, eager to do the right thing, though doubtful what to do, poignantly desirous of getting some lead higher than that of self-interest (though not conflicting with it) and with a generous warm- hearted sympathy for the British folk. Doubtless these groups were insignificant in numbers to the mass of citizens with whom | never came in touch, among whom there was an old strain of suspicion and hostility to England, and all sorts of currents of prej- udice, ill will, hatred even, among Irish,&#13;
Philip Gibbs&#13;
German, and foreign stocks, in addition to the narrow nationalism, the vulgar selfishness, of many others. That is true, but the people | met, and to whom | lectured, were the in- telligentsia, the leaders of social life, and busi- ness life, the wives, mothers, and daughters of the “leading citizens,” the arbiters and, to some extent, the creators of public opinion. Their hopes, ideals, visions, must, sooner or later, be reflected in national tendencies and acts. Only blind observers would now say that the United States has not revealed in re- cent acts and influence that broadening of out- look which | perceived at work below the sur- face in 1921, and did something, perhaps—not much—to help, by a simple and truthful re- port of facts from this side of the world.&#13;
In the United States | had, strange as it may seem, a certain authority as an economic expert! This may surprise my intimate friends, and most of all my wife, who knows that | have never been able to count my change, that | have not as much head for figures as a new-born lamb, and that | have never succeeded in making out a list of ex- penses for journalistic work without gross errors which have put me abominably out of pocket. Yet many of the greatest financiers in the United States—men like the brothers Warburg, and Mr. Mitchell of the National City Bank—invited me to address them on the economic situation in Europe, and agreed with my arguments and conclusions. I re- member one dinner at which | expounded my views on that subject to no less than sixty of the leading financial experts in New York, afterward being subjected to a fire of ques- tions which, to my own amazement, | was able to answer. The truth is, as | quickly perceived, that a few very simple laws under- lie the whole complicated system of interna- tional trade and finance. As long as one held on to those laws, which | did, like grim death, one could not go wrong in one’s analy- sis of the European situation, and all facts and figures adjusted themselves to these ele- mentary principles.&#13;
HERBERT HOOVER CALLS&#13;
MONG the men who asked me to tell them&#13;
a few things they wanted to know, or&#13;
the things they knew (better than I did) but wanted to discuss, was Mr. Herbert Hoover, for whom | have the deepest admiration and respect, like all who have met him. He came&#13;
 &#13;
An Englishman’s Adventures in the United States&#13;
into my room at the Lotos Club one day, un- announced except for a tap at the door by his friend and assistant, George Barr Baker. | had just returned from a journey, and my room was littered with shirts, socks, collars, and the contents of my bags. He paid no heed to all that, but sat back in an armchair and after some questions, talked gravely of world affairs. | need not record here that conversation | had with him—the gist of it is in my book of American impressions, “ People of Destiny,” but | was glad and proud to sit in the presence of a man—so simple, so frank, so utterly truthful—who organized the great- est work of rescue for suffering humanity ever achieved in the history of the world—the American Relief Administration. But for that work, many millions of men, women, and children in the nations most stricken by war would have died of starvation, and Europe would have been swept from end to end by the scourge of pestilence which follows famine. It was Hoover’s business genius, his driving power, the faith that was in him, without any flummery, which created the machinery of that organized charity, and by a kind of mira- cle made it work with wonderful efficiency.&#13;
I seem to have been bragging a little in what | have lately written, making myself out&#13;
to be an important person, with unusual gifts.&#13;
That is not my intention, or my idea. The fact is that the people of the United States give any visitor who arrives with decent cre- dentials a sense of importance, and elevate him for a while above his usual state of insigni- ficance. They herald him with an exaggera- tion of his virtues, his achievements, his rep- utation. Any goose is made to believe him- self a stately swan, by the warmth of courtesy shown toward him, by the boosting of his publicity agent, and by the genuine desire of American citizens to make a guest “feel good”’ with himself.&#13;
This has a strange and exhilarating effect upon the visitor. It gives him self confidence. It actually does develop virtues in him. His goose quills actually change into something like swansdown, and his neck distinctly elongates. There is something in the very at- mosphere of New York—electric, sparkling, a little intoxicating—which gives a man Courage, makes him feel bigger, and not only feel bigger but be bigger! This is no fantasy, but actual fact. In the United States | was a more dis- tinguished person than ever | could be in&#13;
423&#13;
England. 1 spoke more boldly than ever | could in England. | was rather a brave fellow for those few weeks each year, because so many people believed in my quality of character, in my intelligence, in my powers of truth-telling, whereas in England no one be- lieves in anybody.&#13;
So | do not boast or preen myself at all when | write about the wonderful times | have had in the United States. It happens to everybody who does not go out of his way (or hers) as some do, to insult a great-hearted people, to put on “side” in American drawing- rooms, to say with an air of superiority “We don’t do that in England, you know!”&#13;
I visited many American colleges, and with solemn ceremony was initiated into the sacred brotherhood of a Greek letter society which is the highest honor that can be given to a foreign visitor by the youth of America.&#13;
In Canada—at Winnipeg—! was made a Veteran of the Great War by a gathering of old soldiers.&#13;
At Salt Lake City | lectured to 6,000 Mor- mons—most moral and admirable people— in their Tabernacle, and was received on the platform by a Hallelujuh Chorus from sixty Mormon maidens.&#13;
In Detroit, where | began my first speech of the day at 9:30 in the morning, I spoke down a funnel on the subject of the Russian Famine, which was “ broadcast”’ to millions of people late that night.&#13;
| travelled thousands of miles, and in every smoking carriage talked with groups of men who told me thousands of anecdotes and put me wise to everv aspect of American life from the inside.&#13;
I was entertained at luncheon, dinner, and supper by the “leading citizens”’ of scores of cities, and made friends with numbers of charming, courteous, cultured people.&#13;
AMERICAN VS. BRITISH REPORTERS&#13;
WAS interviewed by battalions of reporters&#13;
who received me as a brother of their craft, and never once let me down by putting into my mouth words | did not wish to say. They were mostly young college men and, though | hate to say it, a keener, better-educated crowd, on the whole, than the average of their kind in English journalism.&#13;
I will record only one more of the wonderful things that happened to me as a representa- tive of English journalism in New York.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
424 Philip&#13;
On the eve of my departure, after my second visit, a dinner was given in my honor at the Biltmore. It was organized by Mrs. Mac- Vickar, who has the organizing genius of a lady Napoleon, and a Committee of ladies, and a thousand people were there. They in- cluded all the most distinguished people in New York, many of the most distinguished in America, and they were there to testify their friendship to England. They were there also to express their friendship, if | may dare say so, to me, as a man who had tried to serve England, and America too, in speaking, and in writing, the simple truth. They wrote all their names in a book that was given to me at the dinner, and | keep it as a great treasure, holding the token of a nation’s kindness.&#13;
What added a little sauce piquante to the proceedings was the delivery from time to time during the dinner of notes from Sinn Feiners parading outside the hotel. The first message | read was not flattering. “You are a dirty English rat. You ought to be de- ported.”” Another informed me that | was a paid agent of the British Government. Another was a general indictment informing all American citizens that it was a disgrace to dine with me, and an act of treachery to their own nation. Another little missive described me as a typical blackguard in a nation of cut-throats. So they followed each other to the high-table, where | was the guest of honor. ;&#13;
THE DANGERS OF AMERICA&#13;
HAD a great time in the United States on&#13;
each of my three visits, but, notwithstand- ing all | have said, | shall never make another lecture tour in that country. The fatigue of it demands the physique of an Arctic explorer combined with that of an African lion-tamer. Several times | nearly succumbed to tinned tomato soup. Twice did | lose my voice in a wind forty below zero, and regain it by doses of medicine which destroyed my digestive organs. Nightly was I roasted alive in sleeping-berths. Daily did my head swell to unusual proportions, not in conceit, but in a central heating system which is a terror to Englishmen. Visibly did | wither away as | travelled from city to city, received by depu- tations of leading citizens on arrival, after a&#13;
Gibbs&#13;
sleep-disturbed night, with the duty ahead of keeping bright and intelligent through a long day’s programme, saying the right thing to the gracious ladies who entertained me at lunch, the bright thing to the City Club which entertained me at dinner, the true thing to all the questions asked about Europe, England, Lloyd George, Prohibition, Mrs. Asquith, the American flapper, Bolshevism, France, and the biological necessity of war, to business men, professors, journalists, poets, financiers, bishops, society leaders in Kansas City, or Grand Rapids, the President of the Mormon church, the editors of the local newspapers, the organizers of my lecture that evening, and the unknown visitors who called on me at the hotel all through the day, and every day.&#13;
One can’t keep that sort of thing up. wearing. . ..&#13;
| remember that in the Copley Plaza Hotel at Boston, a little old gentleman carrying a black bag tapped at my door and introduced himself by the name of Dr. Gibbs. He said that his hobby in life was to search out Gibbses in the United States, and he had found thousands! He presented me with a copy of the Gibbs Family Bulletin, and open- ing his black bag produced a photograph of his great-grandfather.&#13;
It was my son Tony who called my atten- tion to the fact that | was amazingly like that venerable man, who was toothless (he lived before the era of American dentistry) and with hair that had worn thin as the sere and yellow leaf. | decided that I should become ex- actly like him, “sans hair, sans teeth,” if | continued this career as an English lecturer in America, In order to avoid premature old age, | made a resolve (which | shall probably break) not to make another lecture tour in the United States.&#13;
But of all my journalistic adventures, | count these American experiences as my most splendid time, and for the American people | have a deep gratitude and affection. I can&#13;
It’s&#13;
only try to repay their kindness by using my pen whenever possible to increase the friend- ship between our countries, to kill prejudice and slander, and to advocate that unwritten alliance between our two peoples which | believe will one day secure the peace of the world.&#13;
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GRAIN MARKETING UNDER GOVERNMENT RULE&#13;
A Simple Explanation of the Grain Futures Act, Which Was De- signed to Prevent Speculative Manipulation of the Price of Wheat&#13;
By EDWARD JEROME DIES&#13;
HE long arm of the Government has&#13;
been extended around the nation’s&#13;
grain exchanges. To-day these&#13;
commodity markets are functioning&#13;
under a new law known as the Grain Futures Act. This new law may be said to represent the climax of one of the most drama- tic fights in agricultural history.&#13;
Like all new laws having to do with govern- ment in business, this statute, effective early in May, has been the cause of extreme un- easiness. During the first few days of its operation, the telegraph wires and cables clattered with messages of inquiry. Most of these messages were directed to officers of the Chicago Board of Trade, the hub of world grain commerce.&#13;
They came from farmers, exporters, millers, country elevator owners, and bankers. They constituted a veritable deluge of questions. Is the futures market destroyed? Has specu- lation been abolished? _Is it unlawful to hedge our wheat at harvest time? Is there a limitation on quantity purchases and sales? To all such questions the emphatic answer was No.&#13;
But in spite of repeated assurances, and in spite of attempts by the Federal Department of Agriculture to encourage normal use of the grain futures market, the law created such tremendous uncertainty during the first month that the speculative public left the mar- ket almost completely. The result was that wheat prices dropped to levels not justified by the statistical position of that grain.&#13;
In analyzing the new law it should be clearly stated at the outset that there is no intent to bar speculation. On the contrary, speculation is recognized as a necessary factor in the economic marketing of grain.&#13;
There are five outstanding points in the law.&#13;
1. The exchange must compel each member&#13;
to retain for three years records of all trades made by or through his firm. Such a policy was voluntarily being followed.&#13;
2. A complete report to the Secretary of Agriculture must be made by the exchange or any member at any time that official deems a report necessary. This is to note possible irregularities.&#13;
3. Dissemination of false crop or marketing news is forbidden. The exchange itself has long had rules for the expulsion of members guilty of such sharp practice. This rule now becomes a Federal law.&#13;
4. Provision is made for vigorous action against any one attempting price manipula- tion.&#13;
5. The exchange must admit to member- ship representatives of codperative bodies and permit them to rebate profits to the farm group members as patronage dividends. In opposing this provision the grain trade argued that the whole morale of the exchange had been builded upon a uniform commission rate; that cutting commissions would under- mine the fundamentals of the exchange, and that there should not be such discrimination in favor of new members as against old ones.&#13;
That, briefly, outlines the new law as ap- plied to modern grain marketing.&#13;
What will be the result?&#13;
] asked the question of Mr. John J. Stream, president of the Chicago Board of Trade and for years a leader in the grain industry.&#13;
“It is too early to predict,” he replied. “American grain exchanges have been given the stamp of governmental approval. We feel that this action will tend to encourage the grain trade into greater use of the futures trading system.&#13;
“Certainly every provision of the act will be strictly conformed to by our association. Should the law fail of its purpose, it will be through its own deficiencies.&#13;
Edward Jerome&#13;
Dies&#13;
WHERE THE BUYERS CONGREGATE&#13;
The whole exchange floor of the Chicago Board of Trade.&#13;
This market, like other grain ex-&#13;
changes, is now under Federal supervision through the enactment of the Grain Futures Act&#13;
“The grain exchange has now met all the demands of leaders of the various agrarian coéperative groups. Our association will do its utmost to maintain the high standard of marketing efficiency which for years has been an outstanding chapter in commercial history. This will be possible, however, only through the constructive help of farmers and their leaders and a lessening of political agitation— an agitation that in recent years has wrought havoc with many industries and at times threatened to undermine the nation’s eco- nomic structure.&#13;
“We hope the new law will solve any real or imaginary ills. But the future alone holds the answer.”&#13;
Secretary of Agriculture Wallace has prom- ised to administer the law in a careful, judi- cious manner that will not tend to create trade disturbances.&#13;
“Reports that this law will put the grain exchanges out of business or interfere with their legitimate functions are entirely with- out foundation,” said a statement authorized by Secretary Wallace. “It does not interfere with hedging transactions. Neither does it interfere with ordinary speculation in the buying and selling of contracts for future delivery.&#13;
“If, however, there should be evidence of undue manipulation or attempts to corner the market, or of the dissemination of false information about crop or market conditions, such conduct would be inquired into and promptly dealt with as required by law. The law gives authority to observe and in- quire into the operations on grain exchanges&#13;
and to speak with authority concerning such matters.”&#13;
Grain marketing has always been a big problem, and one subject to controversy. The crop is marketed in a period of a few months and must be doled out to foreign buyers and to domestic consumers through- out the year. The present system, with futures trading facilities, has its imper- fections, but as Secretary Wallace and others testified at Congressional hearings, it is by far the best system yet devised. It was de- veloped step by step with the growth of agriculture.&#13;
Back in the days when the Middle West was new, when paddlewheel steamers churned the muddy streams, and when railroads were only a hope, the farmer hauled his grain to town and received the price the merchant cared to pay. There was no means of de- termining true values.&#13;
Three quarters of a century ago the Chicago Board of Trade was formed by a group of merchants to enforce fair trade practices and to gather and disseminate crop information. This solved some of the problems of the grain farmer. Years later, as production increased and the question of distribution became more and more acute, it was found that dealing in contracts for the future delivery of grain was necessary to the economical marketing of the crops. Thereupon the so-called futures grain market was created.&#13;
Speculation makes the futures market. And the futures market makes possible “hedging” or commercial price insurance on grain. Leading economists told Congressional&#13;
 &#13;
Grain Marketing Under Government Rule&#13;
committees that it is the ability to hedge grain and thus protect against losses that has re- duced the toll between producer and consumer to a point lower than exists in any other staple foodstuff.&#13;
Few outside the grain industry are familiar with the exact process of hedging. Let us take a suppositious case of a country elevator. The owner has purchased from reighboring farmers 5,000 bushels of wheat at $1 a bushel, which price is based on the prevailing price in the world market at Chicago. The eleva- tor man will be unable to deliver that wheat to the next owner for perhaps sixty days. Meantime unforeseen conditions may cause prices to fall, with loss to the elevator man.&#13;
To protect himself he goes into the futures market and sells 5,000 bushels of wheat for delivery at some future time. This separate transaction in the futures market constitutes a hedge. Later on the elevator man delivers the physical wheat which he had purchased from the farmers. In the meantime the price has fallen to, say, 90 cents a bushel. On the physical wheat, then, the elevator man loses 10 cents a bushel. It is now time for&#13;
a ie&#13;
427&#13;
him to round out his hedging transaction (the separate deal in the futures market). He does so by buying in the 5,000 bushels he had sold short at $1 a bushel. He buys the 5,000 bushels at the prevailing price of 90 cents a bushel. Therefore he makes 10 cents a bushel on his hedging transaction. This profit off- sets the loss on the physical wheat. So the elevator man made only his normal elevator service profit. He was not concerned with price swings, as his transaction was insured by the hedge.&#13;
Without this insurance, the elevator man would be compelled to pay less for the farm- er’s wheat. For he would then be carrying the risk himself and the bill would inevitably be passed along to the farmer in the form of lower prices.&#13;
In the same general way the futures market is used for hedging by millers, exporters, manu- facturers of food products, and others who must anticipate their future needs. The market thus becomes a delicate machine which reacts quickly to world conditions and in so doing tends tostabilize the domestic and foreign grain crops in their competition with each other.&#13;
‘ i ia&#13;
* 79&#13;
 &#13;
BUYING AND SELLING&#13;
Every trade in the futures market is recorded by official clerks.&#13;
Under the law, records&#13;
of these grain trades are kept on file for three years for possible government inspection&#13;
 &#13;
428&#13;
At harvest time hedging sales hit Chicago in a mighty outpour of millions of bushels. It is at such periods that the value of organ- ized speculation is most forcibly driven home. The speculator always is in the market under normal conditions, and this gigantic volume of hedging sales is absorbed with only the usual price fluctuations. Like an insurance company the speculative side of the market is ready to assume the risk which the producer, distributor, and consumer wish to avoid. It is the aim of the Government to administer the new law without destroying this compe- tent speculation which seems to have been harnessed for the public good.&#13;
Dissatisfaction which brought about the new law grew out of post-war price deflation. There was a Government fixed price for wheat during the war and therefore no reason for a wheat futures market. - In other words there could: be no speculation as to what the future price would be. The Government had settled it. A few months after the close of the war, the normal marketing machinery was restored with the usual facilities for trading in con- tracts for future delivery of wheat.&#13;
But the war-time demand for wheat had vanished.- Values started tumbling. Along with prices of all other farm products wheat prices slumped. downward and downward. Canada and the Argentine, like America, had&#13;
Edward Jerome Dies&#13;
surpluses to offer the world. And the world was not doing its customary buying.&#13;
Quite naturally the farmer was disturbed. An outcry was sounded against the middle- man and the marketing machinery. The common contention of farm leaders, shorn of all its bewildering phraseology, was that big traders in the futures market were able on occasion to swing prices to the discomfort of the farmer.&#13;
Such a condition required immediate action. The solution, they said, was new laws, and by January of 1921 Congress faced more new marketing legislation than had been introduced in half a dozen previous sessions. Many intended panaceas were so obviously unsound that they were given only superficial examination. The more fantastic bills would have junked the whole system. For a time the agitation all but paralyzed the grain trade. Reports reached Washington that the ex- changes planned to close their doors if certain legislation went through.&#13;
Finally interest centred upon the Capper- Tincher bill. This measure, enacted into law, was based on taxation. A heavy tax was placed on every bushel of grain traded in contrary to the law. The Supreme Court found this law unconstitutional.&#13;
Immediately another bill was prepared. Its provisions were largely the same, but it&#13;
THE TELEGRAPH DEPARTMENT OF THE CHICAGO BOARD OF TRADE&#13;
These instruments send out grain and provision price quotations. A powerful radio station now broadcasts quotations every 3¢ minutes&#13;
 &#13;
Grain Marketing Under Government Rule&#13;
SAMPLES OF GRAIN ON&#13;
Gis * re&lt; 2]&#13;
| eee guy v ¥ L 7 ‘ot.&#13;
THE TRADING FLOOR&#13;
Four hundred million bushels of grain are handled annually in the cash department of the Chicago Board of Trade&#13;
had the interstate commerce law instead of taxation as a basis. Public hearings, which had been in progress periodically for nearly two years, were resumed in Washington in July of 1922. Meantime it had been shown that natural conditions had caused the post- war price slump. Several other complaints made early in the fight likewise had been clarified to the satisfaction of conservative farm leaders.&#13;
So the situation simmered down to a place where extravagant charges of frequent and deliberate market manipulation were largely brushed aside. Farm leaders, the Govern- ment, and the grain trade were genuinely an- xious to obtain a law that would correct any evils and still leave the market free, open, and competitive, where the farmer’s grain might be sold at any business hour for a price based on world supply and demand. The present grain futures act, some parts of which were strongly opposed, was the result.&#13;
It is to the credit of the grain exchanges that the moment the law was held constitu- tional by the Supreme Court they set about to aid the Government in its enforcement. Rules of the Chicago Board of Trade, an asso- ciation of 1,600 members with Chicago bank balances of two hundred million dollars, were at once amended to conform to the statute. The Department of Agriculture then desig- nated the board a contract market under the law. Other leading exchanges took like ac- tion and also came under Government super- Vision.&#13;
Thus ends the three-year battle for Federal legislation. To-day the farmers have a law&#13;
that will absolutely prevent market manipu- lation. The Secretary of Agriculture merely calls for reports if he suspects irregularities. That legal club alone will prevent any sane man from entering the market on a broad scale with a view to depressing or enhancing prices.&#13;
But in reaching out after the big, powerful speculator whose real or imaginary exploits are suspected of creating a bad influence, the law seems to have frightened away the ordi- nary speculator whose support of the market is essential under the present system.&#13;
Market observers and editorial writers in the grain belt are almost unanimous in assert- ing that the ordinary speculator was driven from the market simply through fear of Gov- ernment in business. Yet there is every rea- son for the speculator to feel more secure than in the past. The Government takes note of his usefulness in the world of commerce, and supervision of the market is intended to pro- tect him as well as the farmer and miller from unfair practices.&#13;
It is a riddle that must solve itself. When the rather puzzling law is understood, there is every reason for the market to become health- ier than at any time since the cry went up for Government rule.&#13;
On the other hand, if the new statute causes a shaky, narrow market, poorly supported by the speculative public during the heavy hedg- ing period of harvest, farmers may suffer from low prices. In such event, say the marketing economists, farmers themselves will demand repeal or amendment of the law at the next session of Congress. )&#13;
 &#13;
A PIG HUNT IN THE SULU ISLANDS&#13;
How Five Men from the American Army Camp at Bongao, Sulu Islands, Went Pig Hunting, and the Surprising Outcome of Their Trip. A Heroic Story of the American Troops in the Philippines&#13;
By LT.-COL. SYDNEY A. CLOMAN&#13;
NE day Sergeant De Wolf came to me and said that a party consisting of himself, Corporal Mygatt, Musician Greathouse and Privates Gibbons and Car-&#13;
ter would like permission to go pig hunting the following week on northern Tawi-Tawi Island, and asked if | could not go with them. | occasionally accompanied these hunting parties, so replied that | would join them and that we would leave on the following Monday.&#13;
It was always a pleasure to be with these particular men. Hardy, resourceful, and full of fun, better companions could not be imagin- ed, and the fact that I usually entered the mosquito-haunted jungle with a supply of whiskey and quinine with which | impartially dosed them all did not detract from my own popularity as a member of such expeditions. De Wolf was a blonde giant of such intelli- gence and attainments that | had long had my eye on him as being worthy of a commis- sion. Mygatt was then a tall, wiry stripling, who later received his commision, became himself the governor of a province of Mindanao, and after splendid service in the World War resigned as a Lieutenant-Colonel. Great- house was a Texan of remarkable strength and endurance and his later experiences are almost unbelievable. Gibbons was a young- ster who had run away to sea from a fine home, became a rolling stone, and because of his knowledge of boats and sails was invariably my companion on all expeditions. Carter the youngest of the party, was a blithe and happy youth who loved the service and especially our unusual life at Bongao.&#13;
| was subject at this time to occasional attacks of malaria that would for a few days put m. entirely out of business. The be- ginning was a fainting spell, but the truly heroic treatment of our French doctor and my own good constitution were usually sufficient to restore me to health in a few days. I was&#13;
greatly disappointed when one of these at- tacks came on just before we were to leave on our hunting trip, and the whole party re- quested that the departure be postponed until | should be able to join them. But after a day’s delay with no change in my condition, I told them to go on and that | would join the next party.&#13;
So they left in our sail-rigged whitehall boat and made their first stop at Bilimbing, a town on the east coast of Tawi-Tawi, about twenty miles away. This is a large and prosperous village, noted for the building of fine boats and ruled by four chiefs of equal rank but un- equal wealth and power, the principal one being the Panglima Djenal who presented me with the kriss at my first durbar, as already related. Djenal was away at this time, but they met the other chiefs, wandered over the town, and did some trading for curios and fruit. When they left the town a couple of hours later, they were followed by a large prau containing ten natives whom they had met at Bilimbing, and who said they also were bound for nothern Tawi-Tawi to get building material. After following the coast north to the point where they expected to hunt, it was concluded because of the mosquito pest to camp for the night on a sand-bar about a mile off shore. Just before nightfall the party of natives joined them there and a pleasant evening was had by all. The soldiers were whist players, and as that game seemed to greatly interest the Moros, they were pre- sented with a deck of cards. The next morn- ing both boats crossed to Tawi-Tawi, and the hunting party made its permanent camp on a small open hill top about sixty feet above the beach. A large tent-fly was pitched, the hunting and cooking gear was moved up, and finally the plug pulled from the bottom of the boat and she was allowed to sink in a shallow until needed for the return to Bongao. In the meantime, the natives were busy and&#13;
 &#13;
A Pig Hunt in&#13;
helpful. They collected some bejuco vine and building material and made a new car to replace one belonging to the whitehall that had been broken. They were unarmed, but of course all carried the heavy chopping knives with which they work in the woods. After supper, Mygatt cleaned his rifle while the other four spread a blanket and started their whist game, with the natives again as interested spectators. Later, Mygatt un- dressed and went down to the beach for a swim, leaving his companions engaged in their game, with the natives squatting around them. By this time night was falling.&#13;
While Mygatt was bathing, he heard some shots and screams, shortly followed by the noise of natives running to the beach. At that stage of tide, there were a number of small moss-covered rocks above the water, and he at once submerged as far as possible with his head behind one of the rocks. After searching for him for a time, the natives got into their boat and pushed off in the darkness. One of the terrors of the long night following was the lack of knowledge of their where- abouts and the-expectation that they would return at any moment.&#13;
Mygatt then returned to camp, found a dis- tressing state of affairs, and learned what had happened. The natives, squatting behind the whist players at a given signal had drawn their jungle knives and tried to behead them. De Wolf was struck fairly on the neck and was killed instantly. Gibbons was struck just above the neck, making a three-inch gash in the skull from which his brains oozed. He called out that he was blind, but managed to stagger across the tent and get his loaded rifle. He actually succeeded in firing some shots, but of course without effect, and soon his left hand was severed and he was hacked to earth. A native then seized his rifle and shot him through the body below the heart, and he was at last helpless. The one whose job it was to slash at Carter’s neck made a mess of it. The knife struck a cord of the tent-fly and flew out of his hand. However, he some- what redeemed himself by grabbing a hatchet and sinking it into Carter’s back, temporarily paralyzing him. The butcher detailed for Greathouse caught him squarely on the neck, but the knife not only was dull (it hangs on my wall now) but about the middle of the blade a large fragment had been broken from the edge about an inch long and one half inch&#13;
the Sulu Islands&#13;
431&#13;
deep. The head was practically half severed from the body, but by wonderful luck this big nick in the blade arched over the spine. The carotid artery was pressed against the spine, and while its walls were mutilated by the ragged edge they were not quite broken through. All rifles and weapons had been taken by the natives.&#13;
Then followed a night of horror. Gibbons was still alive, but all that could be done was to tie up such wounds as possible and stop the loss of blood. It was noted afterward on his final papers that he had forty-six wounds including those mentioned above. The heroic struggle of Gibbons against these savages was an inspiration to us all in the events that followed. Carter and Greathouse recovered to some extent, but Mygatt could do nothing except place towels soaked in sea water in their wounds and try to prevent the awful infection of the tropics. And throughout the&#13;
night, the Moros might step from the jungle at any minute and finish up these unarmed men. It is inconceivable that they did not do so.&#13;
THE RETURN TO BONGAO&#13;
HE next thing Mygatt had to do was to raise the boat and bail it out, and this was&#13;
the work of hours. Then the dead and-wound- ed were carried down the hill and a start made for Bongao. The wind was light or contrary, so nearly the entire distance had to be rowed. Carter helped some, and Greathouse was able to give unexpected assistance. Because of the severing of some of his neck muscles, he did not have full control of his head and when unsupported his left cheek rested against his left breast. So all night long with a brine- soaked towel in his gaping wound, he held his head on straight with his left hand and rowed with his right. When owing to the low tide the boat grounded on a submerged coral flat off Bilimbing, he went over-board with My- gatt and helped push the boat through half a mile of shallows. When, however, the hot tropical sun arose, the effect was sudden and serious. Poor Gibbons at last died, and Greathouse and Carter lost consciousness and slid into the bottom of the boat with the dead. About nine o’clock that morning a soldier who had been down to the Point came up to me and said, “Sir, | think something has happened to De Wolf’s party. The boat is lying off the Point almost becalmed. Mygatt is sitting in the stern with bowed head, and&#13;
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432&#13;
he would not answer my hail.””__| sent him on with instructions to the surgeon to join me at once, and hastened to the landing place, where | found the tide slowly bringing the whitehall in. Mygatt was able to steer but could not speak. “The dead, steered by the dumb, came upward with the tide.”&#13;
Soon loving hands moved the bodies to the hospital, while | took charge of Mygatt. He had reached his limit, and | was dreadfully afraid that he would collapse before | could get some information from him. However, | gave him a jolt of whiskey, and he gave me the few details that | had to know at once. He was then tucked away in his own bed, and the men in that vicinity spoke in whispers during the remainder of the day. When he awoke about four o’clock in the afternoon he was quite normal and able to give a complete account of the affair.&#13;
Our surgeon had been at work with the wounded, but reported that while he hoped for the best he could do but little for them. They had recovered from their collapse, but the wounds were infected and it was mostly a question of whether this infection would break through the walls of the artery in the case of Greathouse, or work in to the spine in the case of Carter.&#13;
PREPARING THE EXPEDITION&#13;
N THE meantime, from the moment Mygatt landed, | had been preparing an expedition. All native boats at Bongao were embargoed, not only because | would need the boats, but also to stop the news going out of my intended departure. Owing to the fact that this was a most puzzling blow out of a clear sky, | could not tell whether it was the beginning of a campaign of murder by the chiefs, or an isolated instance of killing by irresponsibles for the rifles and loot. So | put Datto Tan- ton under surveillance and notified him that he would be taken with me but that | would take no native contingent except a couple of boatmen and guides. Every effort was made to scrape up boats, but at that time no large praus were at Bongao and only the whitehall and a few outrigger canoes were available. Loaded to the utmost, only forty men could be accommodated. And then came _ the question of the men. For certain special work, | chose about twenty, leaving the others for the men themselves to select. | closed my eyes to the methods used, and have no aoubt&#13;
Lt.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
that many a man got his coveted place by holding three of a kind, or rolling an elusive seven. In any case, the camp was soon noticeably divided into the joys and glooms, and | was told that no place was for sale, nc difference how fabulous the offer. Finally. some of the disappointed ones came to me and asked if they could go if during the night they could rig some sort of a sea-going craft that would carry them. | consented, and when the expedition left the next morning, we were accompanied by two weird looking catama- rans that caused much laughter. | had ex- pected some of the boats to capsize in their overloaded condition, but | did not anticipate any particular danger as the men were good swimmers, the water deliciously warm, and beaches or coral reefs were always near. As for the sharks, we would have to trust to provi- dence. | was not disappointed in my expecta- tions. After the first puff, the doughty cru- saders in the catamarans were in the water, but instead of the wild excitement of rescue they received only a shout of laughter from the other boats and the forlorn and disappointed castaways were picked up orpthe beaches on our return. Later, several other crafts got into difficulty, but all of them were righted and joined us later at Bilimbing.&#13;
At last we were on our way. I had Mygatt and Datto Tanton with me as | wanted to get the last shred of information from the former and keep the latter under my eye. He knew that | was puzzled and uncertain about him, and he was very unhappy that I had not called upon his native contingents for help. | never distrusted him again. The _ breeze freshened and at one time I| was gravely con- cerned as to the ultimate strength of my force, as several of the boats got into trouble and dropped behind. However, all we could do was to push on with the remainder, trusting to the laggards to help each other and hoping that the sharks were all asleep. When we finally rounded the point and Bilimbing lay before us, the expedition had dwindled from 45 to 15 men; but later in the day and during the following night all straggled in with the ex- ception of the hopeless catamarans.&#13;
As soon as we were seen, the alarm gongs began to beat in Bilimbing but no movement was visible in the town. As usual it was built on piles, the beach beneath being dry at low tide, the run-ways of scaffolding connecting the houses with each other and with the shore.&#13;
 &#13;
ngs ent uilt low ting ore.&#13;
Ny AN&#13;
LZ&#13;
HOW THE BILIMBING MURDERERS WERE CAUGHT&#13;
After the arrival at Bilimbing of Colonel Cloman and his party of fifteen men, the three chiefs of the village&#13;
were ordered to put in their appearance. Because the one soldier who escaped uninjured from the murderers&#13;
could identify but one Bilimbing citizen as a member of the murderous group, Colonel Cloman assured the&#13;
three chiefs that he would have them shot at intervals of one minute if they did-not find the guilty men. The chiefs soon “caved” and presently the ten men were tied to stakes and trees on the shore&#13;
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434&#13;
The tide at this time was about half-flood and many boats were tied below the houses. Our dispositions were simple and made with the greatest haste. One boat was sent directly in to cut the town off from land, while men were dropped off on the seaward side in water about waist deep to complete the surrounding movement. The orders were also simple— to permit any one approaching the town to enter it, but to shoot any one leaving it. | kept six men with me as a necessary striking unit, and we took our post on a large black rock rising from the beach near the town and which was then being slowly surrounded by the incoming tide.&#13;
HOW WE FOUND THE CRIMINALS&#13;
N MY demand, the three chiefs came out&#13;
and joined me on the rock and transmit- ted my orders to the inhabitants about leaving the town. No sooner was this done, than a man dropped into a boat lying under one of the houses and began to row frantically to sea. | asked Sergeant Brockman the name of the man who was on that post. He replied that it was Corporal Reynolds. “Then the Moro is a dead man,” | said. The Corporal was by all odds the worst shot in the company—one of those rare cases where all instruction and endeavor was of no avail; but | have often noticed that for some unexplainable reason the failure on the target range brings in the biggest bag of game and never misses killing when he accidently discharges his rifle in barracks. Sure enough, the Moro soon sprang into the air and dropped back into the bottom of his boat. The tide finally brought him to our rock and we found that he had been shot through the body below the heart. He wasa perfectly innocent man whohad become locoed by the order against leaving the town, and | am happy to say recovered and lived happily thereafter as a pet of the delighted and sur- prised Corporal. He was used as a sort of “Exhibit A’? when the Corporal was jollied on the rifle range.&#13;
After this little diversion, | resumed my serious conversation with the three chiefs. They said they were not implicated in the murders in any way. This was believable. They said they did not know who was guilty, and in fact had never heard of the affair until 1 told them. | knew this to bea lie. In the intimate life of a Malay tribe, it would be im-&#13;
Lt.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
possible to keep the chiefs in ignorance of such an important event.&#13;
However, | was not ready for extreme mea- sures, for | believed | had a plan that would cut out the guilty from the herd. | therefore told the chiefs to order every man in the town to strip to the waist and come out unarmed. Over 400 men were soon on the rock which by that time was entirely surrounded with water. We kept them under the guns, but the dis- parity of numbers made me rather anxious, particularly as in the pursuance of my plan it would be necessary to use three of my six men for other purposes. Mygatt looked them over as they arrived, and set aside several as suspects; but although | did not ex- pect to find the guilty among them, | was rather disturbed to discover that either be- cause of the horrors of the night of his escape or because of the traditional fact that under certain conditions “all coons look alike,” he would not be able to pick out the guilty na- tives with any certainty, and certainty would be important to all concerned. A sergeant and two men were then sent into the town to make a house-to-house search for men who had not come out, and there is where | ex- pected to find the guilty. In any case, they had disobeyed the order to come out, and when about 20 of them were pulled out of their hiding places and sent to the rock, | noted without surprise or grave displeasure that the butts of the rifles had been rather busy on the heads. Mygatt identified one of these positively. But there it ended and our well-laid plan had come to an impasse.&#13;
It was time for serious measures, and | was not averse to using them. I carefully ex- plained to the three chiefs that their law as well as ours made them accessories after the fact, and this was punishable by death; and then asked them if | had ever lied to them or anyone else. They said | had not, and that they would believe me. | asked them if they would believe me if | told them that I was going to shoot them, and they solemnly said that they would. | then pronounced them guilty and told them that the senior would be shot exactly at nine o'clock, one minute later the next senior, and one minute after that the junior. The only thing that could possi- bly save them would be turning over all ten murderers before that time, and even then the offense of becoming participants after the crime would have to be seriously judged. |&#13;
 &#13;
A Pig Hunt in&#13;
called the attention of the senior to the fact that the other two held the edge, as they could still confess and save themselves after he was very dead, but the house was not very re- sponsive to my joke. Tanton asked that they be returned to the town under his charge as his advice would be wanted, and | cheer- fully consented as they could not possibly get away. In the meantime, our delayed boats began arriving with the men no worse off for their ducking and exposure to sharks.&#13;
WHY THE CRIME WAS COMMITTED&#13;
O MAKE a long story short, the chiefs caved and soon ten men were tied up to trees and stakes on shore. | spent the entire night talking to them one by one, learned that Cari was their ring leader, which blows each one struck, and where the rifles were con- cealed. The object of the murders was the most important question, and was virtually unsolvable. Was it for revenge? “No, Tuan, we never saw the men before.” Was it for the rifles? “No, if we would take them out ‘of hiding, you would know us and kill us.” After hours of talk, it always came down to the fact that the soldiers were in their power and could be killed; much like a child will throw a pebble at a bird or an automobile. | found ‘that one man had struck no blow and sug- gested that he was guilty in a minor degree; but from every stake there was much laughter and | learned that he was the one who had conceived the plan and coached Cari in it! Soon after Cari had confessed his leadership and had been returned to his stake, | heard a strange choking sound from the darkness and found Tanton twisting a cord about his neck until it was not much larger than a broom stick. The old fellow, filled with re- sentment and worry over the crime that had disturbed my confidence in him, was trying to take a quiet and summary revenge. | was in time to save Cari and get his tongue back in his system. The end of the tragic story was very rapid and complete. On being released from their Stakes in preparation for breakfast and the return to Bongao, they made a desperate&#13;
the Sulu Islands&#13;
435&#13;
break for liberty and in the melee were all killed.&#13;
At that time the little-brown-brother craze in America had gone to a length now almost inconceivable. Among these deluded “hu- manitarians” the treacherous murder of a splendid American caused no remark other than that “he should not have been there,” while the news of the death of the murderer aroused shrieks of rage and resentment. When finally the account of my expedition appeared in the American papers, my mail be- came very heavy. | had letters of commen- dation and letters of censure and newspaper clippings galore. Two that arrived in the same mail seemed strangely complementary to each other. One was a passionate letter from a young lady in St. Louis with grave designs upon my bachelor state and who wished a picture of her “dream-man” with- out delay; the other was a mythical picture of me from a Boston paper in which the artist truly tried to make the punishment fit the crime. Ferocity and degeneracy could be read in every protuberance of my mis-shapen skull and gorilla-like face, and he had even impregnated the cut of my clothes with his venom. By simply enclosing this portrait of the “dream-man” to the young lady, | managed to preserve my bachelorhood for several more years, and doubtless did some young Missourian a good turn.&#13;
Some weeks later, | took it into my head to go up and spend the night at Bilimbing alone; and to any one who knows the Malay charac- ter and tribal organization, this is not nearly as reckless as it sounds. This | did, thereby causing the chiefs great anguish of mind for they knew exactly what was coming to them if my visit were not an uneventful one. | slept peacefully in a house surrounded by thirty native sentries with knives, and was almost lifted into a boat and shoved off by the enthusiastic populace the next morning. Bilimbing has since been a prosperous and orderly town, but there are too many be- reaved and irresponsible relatives of the late deceased there for me ever to expect an invi- tation to their Old Home Week.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
VENTILATION&#13;
FOR HEALTH&#13;
AND COMFORT&#13;
The Effects of Heat and Humidity on the Human Body, and What Science Is Doing to Provide the Right Kind of Air Indoors at All Seasons&#13;
By FLOYD W. PARSONS&#13;
Photos by courtesy of the American Society of Heating and Ventilating Engineers&#13;
N THE warfare of mankind against heat and cold, we have advanced farther in our defense against cold than against heat. The Arctic regions have been more nearly conquered than the tropics. People in&#13;
the Far North have made greater progress in dispelling cold than those living near the Equator have, made in combating the dis- comforts and dangers of heat.&#13;
The twin science of heating is ventilation, and although our heating practices are more or less crude, they are far superior to the ven- tilation methods we have so far developed. In a near to-morrow we shall devote as much attention to cooling our homes, offices, and factories in the summer-time as we now give to heating them in the winter. Already there are successful arrangements by which indoor spaces are cooled by means of indirect radiat- ing surfaces without fans. There is no scien- tific or technical reason why we cannot cool rooms with the same radiators, piping, etc., that we now use to heat them. With suchan arrangement the radiators would have to be placed on pans to catch the drip of moisture from the cold surfaces in the warm months&#13;
Suppose we take a bucket of chilled air and carry it around ona warm summer day. This we can do, and literally not spill a drop of the air. The cool air is heavy and will not rise out of the bucket. But if we make a hole in the bottom of the vessel, then we lose our cold air, for it will flow out like water.&#13;
By bearing this in mind Dr. Bell proved how easy it is to keep an ordinary residence cool in the hot months. In cooling his house he discovered how necessary it is to keep the doors closed and the windows open at the top instead of the bottom. No house can be cooled in-summer unless it is air-proof at the base. Just the reverse of this idea is helpful in cold weather when the thing we want to save is the warm air.&#13;
The fact is that the whole problem of keep- ing warm or cool is closely linked up with the subject of ventilation. We have come to know how silly it is to judge air by using a dry-bulb thermometer, for the dry-bulb tem- perature does not determine comfort. We have also commenced to understand the vital importance of humidity in the air we breathe. If the air contains too little moisture, then the rate of heat loss from the body by evaporation becomes too rapid, and a sensation of chilli- ness is produced. When there is an excess of humidity, there is retarded evaporation, which produces a feeling of nervous irritation and enervation. We will have made a long step forward when every person understands that for every degree of temperature and velocity of air motion, there is a proper degree of relative humidity.&#13;
There is no better way to cut down our fuel bills than by simply moistening the indoor air we breathe. The average person will feel warmer at a temperature of 68 degrees with a 50 per cent. humidity than at a temperature of 80 degrees with a 25 or 30 per cent. hu- midity. Last winter in one large factory the workers were listless and individual produc- tion was most unsatisfactory. A ventilation expert was called in, the temperature reduced 11 degrees to an average of 68, the humidity increased to 46 per cent., and as a result of these changes the productive capacity of the employees for work was increased one-third.&#13;
It is impossible in the winter-time to pro- vide proper air conditions in our homes and working places without calling to our aid some method of air-moistening. In a great many of our Central and Eastern States, the average winter temperature is about 34 degrees and the humidity about 58 per cent. If we take this outside air and try to make it comfortable indoors, it must be heated to at least 80 de- grees, for in warming it up the humidity is&#13;
 &#13;
Ventilation for Health and Comfort&#13;
decreased to about 22 per cent., which is 10 per cent. under the moisture content of the Sahara Desert atmosphere.&#13;
Temperature is largely responsible for the wide variations in human efficiency. Dry air is largely responsible for many ailments of the nose and throat. When the air we breathe is lacking in moisture, an extra load is thrown on the respiratory membranes, producing irri- tation, lowered vitality, and a predisposition to colds. Very dry air also takes the moisture from the woodwork of the house, the walls, and the glue in the furniture, thus causing warping, the appearance of unsightly cracks in plastering, and rapid deterioration of the furniture.&#13;
In actual house-heating practice it is seldom feasible to provide a humidity of more than 40 per cent., for if the moisture in the air is greater than this, it is likely that the condensa- tion on the windows will be excessive unless double windows are used. In order to humidify an average house of, say, 15,000 cubic feet air capaci.y, it will be necessary to evaporate a littl: more than 1 gallon of water per hour during the daytime. Water pans for radiators and furnaces, and efficient hu- midifying apparatus can be easily obtained in almost every community.&#13;
At one time the whole thought of ventila-&#13;
7&#13;
437&#13;
tion experts was directed to preventing people from being poisoned by their own exhalations. Now we understand that carbon dioxide in the air is nothing like as injurious as it was first thought to be. Our investigations have proved that the increase in carbon dioxide which takes place in theatres and crowded rooms is very slight, and the reduction of oxygen in the air is of small consequence. The discomfort and dangers of ill-ventilated rooms are seldom due to the excess of carbonic acid, bacteria, or dust, but nearly always to excessive temperatures and unpleasant odors. It is the increasing heat and moisture which are chiefly responsible for human discomfort. In overheated rooms people perspire and va- porize the odorous substances in bodies and clothes. A partial remedy for odors is to keep rooms cool. And we may add that high tem- peratures will produce fatigue to almost as great a degree as will physical exertion. So-called “vitiated” air, while not nearly as harmful as was once supposed, does increase the susceptibility of humans to disease. It has been definitely proved that the breathing of stale air measurably decreases one’s appe- tite, and this effect must not be minimized, for it bears a close relation to body nutrition. But of even greater importance than vi- tiated air is an atmosphere filled with smoke&#13;
 &#13;
A WIND TUNNEL IN THE DEPARTMENT OF STANDARDS, WASHINGTON, D. C.&#13;
In this tunnel are tested such equipment as roof ventilators, in order to determine their efficiency and capacity for removing foul air from schools, warehouses, et cetera&#13;
 &#13;
       &#13;
       &#13;
 &#13;
Parsons&#13;
 &#13;
A VIEW FROM THE This is the largest theatre in New York—one of the largest in the world—and the problem of ventilation is a serious&#13;
STAGE OF THE&#13;
one.&#13;
and dust. Some forms of dust found in occu- pied rooms are altered chemically or decom- posed when brought into contact with radia- tors or heating coils, and the result is a libera- tion of unpleasant and harmful odors that cause a sensation of discomfort and stuffiness.&#13;
Dust is also a carrier of micro-organisms, which spreads disease. But notwithstanding the serious nature of this dust problem, we have never yet determined nor defined a standard of air cleanliness. Nor have we developed a simple and accurate apparatus or means for indicating when any such stand- ard is maintained. It is not enough to say that a certain air is heavily laden with dust, or that it is comparatively free from dust, for such expressions mean but little. We must define dusty atmospheres in terms of so many particles per cubic foot.&#13;
And as to the effect on health of a smoke- laden air, the truth concerning this matter is just commencing to be understood, and the result in many communities undoubtedly will be remedial action to remove this long- standing evil. A smoke-polluted atmosphere is filled with acrid, poisonous compounds and soot particles which serve as carriers of the&#13;
Fresh air comes in over the proscenium arch and through the small domes shown in this picture. out through small dome ventilators located beneath the seats. devoted almost entirely to ventilating ducts&#13;
CAPITOL THEATRE IN NEW YORK&#13;
It is drawn The interior of the balcony is a great chamber&#13;
injurious products of human fatigue. These floating particles increase pulmonary and nasal disorders, augment the pneumonia rate, lessen the duration and intensity of sunshine, increase the frequency and duration of fogs, destroy artistic effects, both interior and ex- terior, and reduce individual working capac- ity. Sunshine is the most important factor in the preservation of health, and anything that lessens it is a menace to mankind. The substitution of gas, coke, and other smokeless fuels for the present grades of raw coal we burn will largely end the smoke nuisance. But our ventilation engineers are not rest- ing content with merely providing means to supply air in proper volume; they are follow- ing the instincts of the true scientist, and bending their efforts toward the attainment of an adequate supply of pure air, at a min- imum of cost. Investigation has shown that in many of our schools and other well con- structed buildings, of each four pounds of coal burned, one pound goes for heating and three pounds for ventilation or for producing rapid air changes. It is easily possible to return 50 per cent. of the warmed-up air to the heaters instead of supplying fresh outdoor&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Ventilation for Health and Comfort&#13;
air entirely, and in such a case, instead of 3 pounds of coal being used simply to supply ventilation, only 13 pounds are needed, so that it is evident such a practice affords a saving of 37.5 per cent. Last winter, during the coal shortage, some of our schools, with the use of air washers, re-circulated upward of 70 per cent. of the air that had been heated, and in these cases 2.1 pounds of coal were conserved out of each 4 used, so that the percentage fuel saving amounted to 52.5 per cent.&#13;
What percentage of air we should re- circulate, is a question which must be decided by further research. We already know that the cleansing efficiency of an air washer is greatly affected by the cleanliness of the water used. The efficiency of nature’s process of air cleansing by raining has been proved be- yond doubt. In one of our big cities where air washing and re-circulation have been care- fully studied, the tests indicate that the air which has been washed is certainly of as good quality as the unwashed outside air.&#13;
Next let me touch on the use of ozone in ventilation work. Some people have claimed that ozone could be used as a substitute for mechanical ventilation, and such an assertion of course is wholly misleading. But the possibilities of ozone in ventilation work are undoubtedly greater than the majority of&#13;
439&#13;
people imagine. The utilization of ozone is a partial solution of the cost of ventilation. Here we have a substance that is.an allotropic form of oxygen. The general belief is that the molecule is made up of three atoms instead of two, and in this somewhat unstable form it gives off an atom of oxygen when brought in contact with substances that can be oxidized. Ozone is a powerful bactericidal agent, and can be used as a disinfectant in place of sul- phur dioxide, formaldehyde, or hydrocyanic acid. In fact, it is 160 times as powerful a disinfectant as sulphur dioxide, 37 times as powerful as formaldehyde, and nearly twice as powerful as hydrocyanic acid gas. As a deodorant, it has no superior. In the case of delicate odors, it destroys them, while with stronger odors it acts as a masking agent, due to its action on the olfactory membrane. When high concentrations of ozone are used, even the most powerful odors are destroyed.&#13;
As to the effect of low concentrations of ozone on the human body, there is consider- able evidence coming to hand which indicates that the ozone is not only harmless, but that its effect on the individual is beneficial.&#13;
Medical research has developed the fact that when objectionable odors are present in the air people breathe, their respiration is de-&#13;
pressed and the result is a deficient oxidation of the blood. Therefore, whether ozone really&#13;
 &#13;
SUBJECTS OF A VENTILATION AND HEATING TEST&#13;
hese are the employees of the U. S. Bureau of Mines Experimental Station at Pittsburgh, Pa.&#13;
, Who were used&#13;
in the tests of the American Society of Heating and Ventilating Engineers to determine the ‘‘equal comfort zone”&#13;
 &#13;
440&#13;
masks an odor or completely destroys it, the effect is healthful because the individual breathes more freely and fully. In other words, when bad odors are present in the air, there is an involuntary contraction of respira- tion, of which bodily reaction the individual is entirely unconscious.&#13;
But of even greater importance in ventila- tion is the inhibitive effect of ozone on the growth of bacteria and mold in the common air ducts of mechanically ventilated buildings. Some of our meat-handling companies have discovered this fact, and as a result there is coming to be a wide use of ozone machines in cold-storage plants and other places subject to dampness and shut off from sunlight. It has been particularly noticed that ozone acts favorably in preventing the growth of mold in storage rooms where sausages are aged. Because of this germicidal action of ozone in air, some of our ventilation experts are now recommending that ozone equipment be in- stalled with sufficient capacity to treat all of the air that is being circulated in a mechan- ically ventilated building during certain hours of the day or night when the place is not occupied. In this way it is possible to build up a concentration of ozone sufficient to dis- infect and sterilize the entire building.&#13;
A large proportion of the schools in one of our greatest Middle Western cities is now using this purifying agent with results that are most interesting and satisfying. Ex- perience here has shown that while ozone, like hydrogen peroxide, does attack secretions and extraneous matter when present in high con- centrations, yet it does not affect living tissues and is not an irritant to the mucous membrane. Even when present in the low concentrations used in ordinary ventilation, ozone does de- stroy a large percentage of the germ life of the air. In the schools referred to above, there was a marked improvement in the health of the children after the ozone system was installed.&#13;
A new day is dawning in the art of ventila- tion. For example, there is the splendid work of Dr. Paul Anderson, who is directing the carrying out of a programme of research for the fraternity of ventilating engineers, that is disclosing new truths almost daily. Dr. Anderson will tell you, for instance, that he has discovered that fat men endure high temperature and humidity better than thin men. He will also explain that drinking ice&#13;
Floyd W. Parsons&#13;
water does not develop cramps in people after they have been subjected to an hour’s expo- sure to high temperature. His results indicate that human beings can endure great varia- tions of external temperature, and at the same time retain their physiological efficiency. Then there is the fact that increasing pulse- rate is more the cause of discomfort than is body temperature, when in a heated room.&#13;
Before long we will know how quickly and accurately to determine the amount of dust in the atmosphere. We will understand all the essential facts connected with the “com- fort zone” in heating and with the physiologi- cal reactions of the human body to various temperatures and humidities. We will have heat meters—one has already been completed —that will measure the flow of heat units through a given area. We will know how to ventilate ships, garages, sleeping cars, and other enclosures where the ventilation prac- tised to-day is an abomination and an insult to our intelligence.&#13;
There is nothing in the world more plentiful than air, and nothing more vital to our lives. But remarkable as have been our discoveries relating to the handling and use of air, such advances as we have made will never equal in value the benefits to us in comfort and health that will result from the intelligent control of the temperature and humidity of the air in which we live and breathe.&#13;
Already we know that there is a direct re- lation of the death rate and of health to the wet-bulb temperature. It has been found that fairly moist weather is more healthful than dry weather of the same temperature. It has been proved that cold waves, unless of extraordinary severity, are beneficial to health while a rising temperature, even in the winter, is harmful. In making this statement, the investigator carefully distinguishes between a drop in temperature and the continuance of low temperature. Then there is the further fact that a variable climate is in general much more healthful than a uniform climate, even though the latter has an almost ideal temper- ature. With such truths before us, and in the light of the fact that we can manufacture indoors practically any kind of weather we desire, at a moderate cost, it would seem that we have a solid basis on which to develop an intelligent ventilation practice that will make us happier, longer-lived, and more prosperous.&#13;
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              <text>The World’s Work&#13;
ARTHUR W. PAGE, EpitTor FRENCH STROTHER, Manacinec Epitor BURTON J. HENDRICK, Associate Epitor&#13;
CONTENTS FOR JUNE, 1923 Joseph Conrad - - - - - - - - - = = = = = = = e ee Frontispiece THE MARCH OF EVENTS—ANn EbpiToriAL INTERPRETATION ee 2&#13;
Ambassador Jusserand Chester H. Rowell&#13;
John Barton Payne Robert L. Duffus Wallace B. Donham&#13;
THE GROWTH OF “A RAINY DAY FUND” - - - - - - - - - - = = How a World’s Work Reader Invested His Savings&#13;
POLITICS AS A PROFESSION (Jilustrated) - Rr. Hon. Davin LLoyp GEORGE A Defense of the Politician as an Indispensable Instrument of Democracy&#13;
THE RUHR, THE RHINE, AND REPARATIONS ~— - RAYMOND RECOULY The Reasons for France’s Seizure of the Centre of German Industry&#13;
WHY THE MIDDLE WEST WENT RADICAL (Illustrated) CHESTER H. ROWELL 1. The Reasons for the Political Change in the Agricultural Districts HARVARD TEACHES BUSINESS THE WAY IT TEACHES LAW FLroyp W. Parsons An Application of the “Case Method” to a New Educational Subject HOW THE KU KLUX KLAN SELLS HATE (lJilustrated) Rospertr L. DurFus 1]. How Salesmen Sold Packages of Hate at Ten Dollars Each MARTIN JOHNSON’S AFRICAN PHOTOGRAPHS (JIlustrated) Cart E. AKELEY 1. The Newest Wild Animal Photographs and What a Big Game Hunter Thinks of Them&#13;
McADOO’S CHANCES FOR THE DEMOCRATIC NOMINATION | (Jilustrated) What Strength Has the Former Secretary of the Treasury? MARK SULLIVAN ACTORS AND AUTHORS AND SUCH (Illustrated) - - - - PHitip GIBBS IV. Further Adventures in Fleet Street ITALY’S REVOLUTIONARY CONSERVATIVES — (Jilustrated) E. L. McVEAGH The Rise of and the Reasons for the Fascisti ADVENTURES IN THE PHILIPPINES (Jllustrated) Lt.-Co.. SypNey A. CLOMAN Ill. Dealings with: Dattos and Lesser Moro Folk LOOKS AT BOOKS - - - - - - - = Near the beginning of the front advertising section Reviews of and Remarks About New Books THE WORLD’S WORKSHOP - - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Some Glimpses Behind the Scenes in the Editor’s office&#13;
SUN-DIAL GOSSIP - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Chats About the New hisiies Published at Country Life Press&#13;
Copyright, 1923, in the United States, Newfoundland, Great Britain, and other countries by Doubleday, Page &amp; Co. All rights reserved TERMS: $4.00 a year; single copies 35 cents; Canadian postage 60 cents extra; foreign, $1.00&#13;
F. N. DouBLEDAY, Pres. ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. NELSON DOUBLEDAY, Vice-Pres. RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY, Sec’y. S. A. EVERITT, Treas. JOHN J. HESSIAN, Asst. Treas.&#13;
6) DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY ® Country LIFE&#13;
EDUCATIONAL REVIEW THE GARDEN MAGAZINE RADIO BROADCAST SHORT STORIES&#13;
CHICAGO: People’s Gas Bldg. GARDEN CITY,N. Y. NEW YORK: 120 W. 32nd Street BOSTON: Tremont Bldg LOS ANGELES: Van Nys Bidg.&#13;
 &#13;
JOSEPH CONRAD The Polish-English novelist, who is now on his first visit to America, where his writings have long since earned for him a reputation that places him among the greatest of contemporary writers of fiction&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
THE&#13;
WORLD’ WORK&#13;
JUNE, 1923&#13;
VotumME XLVI&#13;
NuMBER 2&#13;
THE MARCH. OF EVENTS&#13;
RESIDENT HARDING, in his re-&#13;
cent campaign for American mem-&#13;
bership in the International Court,&#13;
has accomplished two things of the&#13;
utmost importance: he has placed his authority emphatically on the side of a great institution, and he has definitely and even eloquently asserted the Presidential leadership. His case for the High Court is completely made. The enemies of the League of Nations assert that the 7,000,- ooo Republican majority in 1920 represented America’s voice against American participa- tion; if that is so, then the same majority represented America’s vote in favor of joining the High Court of International Justice, for the Republican platform endorsed that or- ganization and the Republican candidate had made public his approval of it.&#13;
Thus Mr. Harding’s speech makes rather silly the attitude of those Republican Sena- tors, most of them hide-bound party men, who have opposed his present programme. But the question, as the President discloses, was not a partisan one. The Court embodies a long-standing American aspiration. In its essentials, it is merely a plan for arbitration, instead of war, as a means of settling inter- national disputes. How can any American oppose such a purpose? The leadership of our nation in arbitration is one of the things of which we are chiefly proud. Democratic as well as Republican Presidents have asserted it. President Cleveland was the first Amer- ican statesman to frame a general arbitration treaty; President Roosevelt was the first&#13;
actually to put one in force. The country has stood not only for arbitration, but for the particular plan now under consideration. The American delegates at the Hague Con- ference in 1907, acting under instructions from President Roosevelt, worked hard for the establishment of the world court. American jurists had much to do with fram- ing the present tribunal and a distinguished American—Mr. John Bassett Moore—now sits upon it as a judge.&#13;
President Harding has done well in setting forth these facts, and the response of his own party and of the country is a sufficient sign that his programme will succeed. This re- sponse again proves that the Nation demands energetic leadership in its President and that it is always ready to endorse this leadership when directed to good ends. The American President is still a mighty force. He em- bodies in his single person more authority with the masses than the Senate and the House combined. He is the spokesman of the broad American Nation because the whole Nation selects him, whereas merely a state selects a Senator, and merely a Congressional District a Representative. He therefore is the man to whom the American masses look for guidance in all great national decisions. Never yet have they refused to follow this leadership, when it has been asserted with dignity and character, and when it has been used to pro- mote American ideals. President Harding has done this fine thing in this fine way, and there need therefore be no apprehension con- cerning the outcome. His battle is fairly won.&#13;
 &#13;
e]&#13;
0 anode ES Eo&#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
AMBASSADOR JUSSERAND Who has recently completed twenty years of service as the able representative of France in America&#13;
 &#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
JOHN BARTON PAYNE ; Appointed by President Harding to represent the United States, in collaboration with Charles Beecher Warren, at a meeting with representatives of Mexico in order to discuss the possible recognition by the United States of the Obregon government&#13;
 &#13;
s RIEARO iter bh SrA aati&#13;
eee&#13;
CHESTER H. ROWELL Editor and publicist, whose recent first-hand study of political and economic conditions in the Near Northwest throws fresh light upon a significant phenomenon of our national life [See page 157]&#13;
 &#13;
Photo by Francis Bruguiere&#13;
ROBERT L. DUFFUS&#13;
Journalist and trained investigator, whose series of articles on the causes and effects of the Ku Klux Klan presents a clear picture of the rise and the beginning of the decline of the “ Knights of the Invisible Empire” [Sec page 174]&#13;
 &#13;
WALLACE B. DONHAM&#13;
Dean of the Harvard School of Business Administration, under whose direction Harvard is teaching business by the “case”’ method, as it has heretofore taught law and medicine&#13;
 &#13;
The March of Events&#13;
The Great Fallacy of Immigration&#13;
NE of the most encouraging aspects () of American life is the increasing interest that the American people are at last showing in immigration. For fifty years and more, lawmakers, economists, and social students have been discussing this question, yet Congress has done little more than fumble with it. The time is rapidly approaching, however, when a sane national policy will supplant the dangerous and hap- hazard methods that have hitherto prevailed. Nothing is so important to a nation as the calibre of the people that make up its popula- tion. It can obtain this population in only two ways; by natural increase or by immigra- tion. The founders of the Republic had rational ideas on this subject, as on most others. They had no great enthusiasm for general immigration. The sentimental theory that this virgin country was a place of refuge for distressed mankind never for a moment obtained possession of their minds. The one desirable way of increasing population, they believed, was the natural increment of the people already here. At the time the Con- stitution went into effect, in 1789, there were 4,000,000 Americans in this country; of these about 80 per cent. were English in origin, about seven per cent. were Scotch-Irish, about one per cent. were Irish and about five per cent. were German. Washington and the other great statesmen of the time believed that this stock would increase just as rapidly as the economic and agricultural opportuni- ties of the new land developed, and that there was consequently no need of stimulating im- migration. Jefferson went so far as to wish that an ocean of fire separated his Republic from the wicked monarchies of Europe, so that no more immigrants might cross the ocean. These opinions have usually been regarded as mere expressions of a distaste for that Europe from which the new nation had recently freed itself; yet it is a question whether they did not rest upon a profound truth.&#13;
The idea too widely prevails that the United States has been made by immigration, that Without the millions pouring in from Europe the nation could never have reached its pres- ent greatness, that our agriculture and our industries could not have been developed, and that our population would still be limited toa&#13;
[21&#13;
thin strip along the Atlantic seacoast. This, however, has not been the experience of other countries which for a hundred years have admitted practically no immigrants. Take England, for example. At the beginning of the Nineteenth Century its population was 8,000,000; in a hundred years this had grown to 32,000,000. This growth was not the re- sult of immigration; it represented the na- tural increase of the native population, auto- matically responding to increased economic resources and consequently increased food supply. Far from adding to its population from immigration England, during this same period, sent millions of its peoples to other lands, especially the United States, Canada, and Australia. In Germany, the experience has been the same. The population of the German Empire in 1870 was 42,000,000; by 1914—forty-four years—this had grown to 68,000,000. Immigration had little to do with this growth; as in the case of England, Germany all this time was losing large num- bers of her population to the United States. The early history of the United States emphasizes the same point. We started with 4,000,000 in 1790; by 1850 this had grown to 23,000,000; in that sixty years only about 2,000,000 immigrants had come to this coun- try, and three fourths—or 1,500,000—had arrived between 1840 and 1850. These figures therefore indicate that the native American population had increased from 4,000,000 to at least 20,000,000 in fifty years —or about five-fold. Thus it is apparent that the original population, in accordance with the forecasts of Washington and his contemporaries, was increasing in sufficient ratio to keep pace with the growth in our economic and agricultural resources.&#13;
Immigration Checks the Native Birth Rate&#13;
HERE is no reason for believing that&#13;
this growth would not have been con- tinuous, just as it was in Great Britain&#13;
and Germany. Americans are inclined to think that the increase in population in the Nineteenth Century was something peculiar to their own country, but the fact is that the number of people in the world increased from 640,000,000 in 1800 to 1,650,000,000 in 1914; this general growth was only another way of stating that increased food supply, increased&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
122&#13;
 &#13;
WORKERS This is the kind of labor that is recruited by immigration&#13;
IN A STEEL MILL&#13;
industrial opportunities, and improved meth- ods of conserving human life are the out- standing facts in modern civilization. The phenomenon that distinguishes the United States from others is that, whereas most countries drew their increased population from their own loins, this country imported a considerable percentage from over seas.&#13;
The point can therefore be maintained that, had there been no immigration at all, the United States might be just as populous as it is at present, the only difference being that our 110,000,000 people would all be the descendants of the 4,000,000 with which we started our national life. If the Germans and the Scandinavians had not filled up the plains of the Mississippi Valley and the North- west, the descendants of the American pio- neers would have done so. If the Irish and the Slavs and the Italians had not crowded the ranks of industry, the American workman would have built our railroads, dug our sewers, and held all places, skilled and un- skilled, in American industry. In the early Nineteenth Century, native Americans dug the Erie Canal and constructed other great public works; similarly, except for the influx of Europeans, they would have built our rail-&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
roads. Thus the chief reason why the native stock has declined is that it has been sup- planted by alien breeds. These alien breeds have supplanted the pioneer peoples simply because their living standards have been lower; they have therefore been content to work for wages on which the established population could not subsist. The natural course has been that “Americans’”’ have come to form a kind of aristocracy; they too much eschew manual labor, insist on “white collar” jobs, and, in the mass, are forced to live on wages which make impossible the rearing of large families. Thus immigration has had a social result in the North not unlike that produced by slavery in the South; it has made manual labor, especially that of the unskilled kind, something degrading. The consequence is that the products of the American public schools disdain the handicrafts and that America has had to depend upon the miscel- laneous human cargoes deposited on its shores by the immigration ships. Immigration is therefore the main influence in lowering the birth rate of the native stock.&#13;
The Plea for Immigrants a Plea for Inefficiency&#13;
EREIN is the real explanation of labor conditions which lend a certain plausibility to the pleas now being&#13;
made for lowering the restrictions on immi- gration. Outside of certain interested racial groups, the forces most insistent on liberal immigration laws are the large employers of labor, especially of unskilled labor. These employers besieged Congress during the re- cent session; they are likely to appear in greater force this autumn and winter. Their chief argument is the present scarcity of labor. They make the old complaint that “Ameri- cans,” and even the children of immigrants, will not enter the steel mills, the factories, and the manual trades, and that the only way of obtaining workmen is by importing them from Europe. So far Congress has declined to be impressed by these’ pleas. It believes that the real consideration is not the tempo- rary need of industry, but the future of the country. Most Americans are now convinced that the masses of humanity which have come in the last twenty years from Eastern and Southern Europe do not form the material out of which a great nation can be built.&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
ese&#13;
leir 0r. eri- nts, and y of em ned “ves 1po- the iced ome and rial uilt.&#13;
 &#13;
The March&#13;
There is no one lesson of history quite so evident as this one. The country has all of these immigrants which it can assimilate. The fact that Mr. Gary and the packing houses need a few thousand employees is no sufficient reason for opening the flood gates again. More important still, immigration is itself the reason why Americans of the es- tablished breeds avoid manual work. They cannot endure the low wages and frequently the intolerable working conditions which these European peasants accept. The proper way to obtain a sufficient and capable working force is by improving working conditions and establishing a wage that will uplift the stand- ard of living. The improper way is by im- porting hordes of inefficient men who will still further degrade manual occupations and cause a deterioration in the quality of American workmanship. The present plea for low grade immigrants is thus a plea for a continuance of the industrial conditions that have stunted the development of a high class of native work- men.&#13;
Should immigration totally cease, therefore, the result, in the course of fifty years, would be highly beneficial; the birth rate of the present population would increase sufficiently to supply the economic and agricultural needs of the country. At present the “Nordic” element comprises about 80 per cent. of our population; it would be a mistake to let it ever sink below that point. The intelligence of the nation is keenly alive to this truth; there is therefore no reason why this convic- tion should not form the basis of our immigra- tion policy.&#13;
If more immigrants are to be admitted, every precaution should be taken to make sure that the vast majority of them belong to these Northwestern races. The highest responsi- bility of the nation is to determine the kind of immigrants that it desires and then boldly seek them out. There are at present, for example, 1,500,000 unemployed in Great Britain, and there are abundant opportunities for their employment in this country. The emigration of these men and women to the United States would be a boon both to Great Britain and the United States. That many are coming the figures for this year show; one of the most encouraging facts is that the quota law is increasing the proportion of “Nordic”’ immigrants over those from East- ern and Mediterranean Europe. So far as the&#13;
 &#13;
of Events 123&#13;
future of the nation is concerned, such addi- tions are just as valuable as would be the increase of the Northwestern Europeans al- ready here; there is therefore no objection to admitting as many as care to come. Any changes that are made in the present quota law should be directed to increasing this movement to the maximum and decreasing the arrivals of the less desirable stocks to the minimum.&#13;
“Selective Immigration” of a Rational Kind&#13;
OR this reason there is much virtue in H accepting the 1890 census as the&#13;
standard for the quotas instead of that of i910. The argument is sound. Our population in 1890 was practically homo- geneous; it was composed largely of the stocks which had built up the nation; that is, it con- sisted chiefly of those peoples from North- western Europe, which, though known as Britons, Scots, Welsh, Germans, Danes, Nor- wegians, and Swedes, really constituted one&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
SECTION GANG ON A RAILROAD Another field of unskilled labor for which native Amer- icans show no liking and which, for the last sixty years,&#13;
has been filled by recent arrivals from overseas&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
 &#13;
The World’s&#13;
Work&#13;
 &#13;
ENGLISH UNEMPLOYED ON THE THAMES EMBANKMENT&#13;
There are said to be 1,500,000 men like these out of work in Great Britain. Many students of the immigration prob- lem favor transporting these men to the United States, where there is plenty of work. They are the kind of immigrants this country needs&#13;
great ethnic family. If the census of 1890 is taken as the standard there would be no objection to increasing the percentage, as con- ditions demand. At present 5 per cent. quotas based on the census of 1890 are most favored. Such an arrangement would let in annually 200,000 from Northwestern Europe, 50,000 from Scandinavia, 165,000 from Cen- tral Europe—mainly Germans—10,000 from Southwestern Europe and 2,000 from South- eastern Europe. The outcome would be an annual addition of about 400,000 of the “Nordic stock’? and about 12,000 of the immigration which has recently caused such wide-spread alarm. This is probably the best solution of the difficulty that has yet been proposed. Northwestern Europeans are rap- idly filling up their present quota, a fact which shows that there are plenty of hardy peoples in these enlightened countries who would gladly respond to this new offer of hospitality. Shutting the door to the less desirable classes would further stimulate their zeal, for the English and Scandinavian workman is just as much opposed to accepting the low wages of Eastern and Southern Europeans, and ad- justing themselves to their impossible living conditions, as are Americans themselves.&#13;
 &#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood JUDGE E. H. GARY&#13;
Head of the United States Steel Corporation,&#13;
whose demand for letting down the bars in order&#13;
that more immigrants might come to America&#13;
has not been favorably received by press and country&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
BAR se&#13;
3&#13;
 &#13;
       &#13;
The March of Events&#13;
In this way the United States would easily absorb the unemployed in the best nations of the Old World. That purpose should be the directing idea in the legislation proposed at the next Congress. This would be “selective immigration” of the rational kind.&#13;
Economic Advance in Europe&#13;
R. JULIUS BARNES, President of the&#13;
Chamber of Commerce of the United&#13;
States, recently returned from the&#13;
International Chamber of Commerce meeting at Rome.&#13;
His report on the state-of Europe is both interesting and optimistic. In the first place people are working—the morale is con- stantly improving. In the second place, the era of cure-all is passing—Sovietism, extreme paternalism, government ownership and opera- tion of all manner of industry, and countless artificial restrictions and aids to industry— these things are disappearing.&#13;
The most dramatic return to capitalism is in Italy under Mussolini where, as is ex- plained elsewhere in this magazine, the Government is rapidly returning to private ownership such facilities as the telephone, the telegraph, and even the parcel post. But beyond this Mr. Barnes sees great recuperative power in Europe in the use of modern inven- tions, machinery, and science.&#13;
“For instance,” in Mr. Barnes’s words, ‘‘you will at once recall that within the last twenty years, by aid of various devices, the telephone and the telegraph, the automobile, the fast train, and time and labor saving devices of all kinds, the standardi- zation of output as the result of chemistry and engineering science, it is true that the superbrains of the country, the man with big directing energy and skill, can to-day direct twenty factories where his father could direct but one. Moveover, in the process of large-scale assembly, such as the auto- mobile, which is distinctly an American accomplish- ment, the man with a low grade of mentality, who twenty years ago was out of work half the time and a burden on the community half of that idle time, is to-day doing a simple task in the process of assembling, earning the wages of a skilled mechanic and certain of steady employment. He is earning more than he and his dependents are taking in current consumption. And between these two grades of productiveness all human labor earning power is clearly increased.”&#13;
Before the war this tendency was in evidence in Europe. During the twenty years before&#13;
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© Underwood &amp; Underwood ALBERT JOHNSON Chairman of the House Committee on Immigration, Mr. Johnson is a strong believer in restricting immigration almost exclusively to those races of northwestern Europe that possess the characteristics most suited to American conditions&#13;
the war, the national earning power per capita increased in England 21 per cent. a year, in France 21 per cent. and in Germany 52 per cent. In the continuation of that process, especially if it is stimulated and encouraged by the increased use of science and machinery, Mr. Barnes places his chief hope of a rapid recovery in Europe.&#13;
At the initiation of the American delegation the Conference at Rome made this the first of the principles adopted: “The adoption of every invention and mechanical device that offers economy of production.”’&#13;
The rest of the principles were:&#13;
The output.&#13;
The stimulation of individual effort by payments which reflect the relative individual effectiveness.&#13;
The commending of the advantages of private ownership and operation as contrasted with the record made by State ownership and operation.&#13;
Taking immediate steps to divert men now en- gaged in non-productive pursuits into productive labor as soon as possible.&#13;
elimination of restrictions on individual&#13;
These were passed unanimously by the Chambers of Commerce in Rome but their&#13;
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JULIUS H. BARNES&#13;
President of the United States Chamber of Commerce. \ recent trip to Europe convinces him that the conti- nent is making excellent progress toward economic recovery&#13;
practical application must mean a serious conflict with labor. For instance, the elimina- tion of restrictions on individual output strikes at the very root of British unionism and the unions in Great Britian include nearly go per cent. of the workers.&#13;
In spite of this and the million and more men out of work Mr. Barnes’s report of British industry—aside from the textile busi- ness— is that the situation is improving.&#13;
Mr. Barnes brought back a confidence that the peoples of Europe could overcome the purely economic burdens if the political difficulties could be removed.&#13;
His solution of the _ politico-economic questions he phrased as follows:&#13;
They were not complicated. The questions fall naturally into five categories—reparations, allied debt, budgets, international loans, and exchange. With a comprehensive settlement of these in their proper relation to each other, there would be the basis in the business judgment of the world for the foundation of this great economic earning process to commence to lift these burdens.&#13;
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Under reparations—and remember that this had the unanimous acceptance of all these del- egations of twenty countries, including France and Belgium—under reparations that whatever the settlement may finally be determined, the details to be worked out later, it must include this prin- ciple, that Germany shall acknowledge its liability for wanton aggression; that it shall undertake with good faith and honest effort to contribute to the utmost of its resources and earning power, its reparation of great wrongs done; that that amount of reparations now determined must carry some security for its payment; that since this is the demonstration of the results which follow ag- gression, there must be security against the recurrence of similar aggression.&#13;
Those three requirements under reparations will place that question on a basis where it can play its part in the comprehensive whole. And they are not beyond the power of human skill and understanding to solve without the present pro- cess of laying a first charge of one hundred million dollars annual expense for an army of occupation, as the first charge on German earnings. That should go, instead, to the liquidation of French damages.&#13;
As to allied debts, it is difficult to see why the ability of a debtor to discharge an allied debt should not be considered, if you stand for the principle that the ability of Germany to pay her reparations obligation must be determined too. So that it is admitted that the ability of these debtors to pay shall be considered too, but that there shall be no general application of a principle of cancellation or remission. There must be maintained a high standard of integrity in international obligations. That consideration of the ability of a debtor to pay these amounts shall also be considered in the light of the effect on their revenues and their spending power by a readjustment of their military and other expenses, which would be also eliminated in this comprehensive settlement.&#13;
That, as to budgets, it is manifest that there must be a repetition of the old statement that national finances, as individual, must bear some proper relation between income and outgo, with the additional reservation that taxation as a method of revenue must not be carried to the point where it stifles productive industry. Because we in America have just passed that phase ourselves, and we are impressed with the fact that taxation on a people, if unwise in character or extent, may it- self destroy the earning power and the taxpaying ability of that people.&#13;
That as to international loans, these as Govern- mental operations must be discouraged, because of the political complication which they bear. The allied debt to-day probably could be settled by business men if they were business considerations solely, but, because whatever settlements are made must be considered in Parliamentary bodies,&#13;
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there is a check, an obstacle in the refunding of those, both as to amount and character and time in terms of payment. Therefore, governmental loans were discouraged, but it was stated that if these other considerations were first arranged, balanced budgets and the elimination of inflation would itself attract the necessary funds for the purpose, because we have confidence that the savings of the world, the accumulation of capi- tal, are going on at a pace which would be sufficient to develop the necessary funds in this connection.&#13;
And as to exchange, artificial stabilization by governments only leads to distress and disaster, and that the ultimate goal of exchange should be the approach to the full gold parity, but under natural processes.&#13;
The two most vital statements in this analysis are:&#13;
“As to allied debts, it is difficult to see why the ability of a debtor to discharge an allied debt should not be considered, if you stand for the principle that the ability of Germany to pay her reparations obligation must be determined too.”&#13;
And:&#13;
“That that amount of reparations . determined must carry some security for its payment; that since this is the demonstra- tion of the results which follow aggression, there must be security against the recurrence of similar aggression.”’&#13;
There must be security against the recur- rence of similar aggression!&#13;
That aggression was Germany’s attack on France. The French went into the Ruhr primarily to gain this security. As long as France stays in the Ruhr France has that security. When her armies retire from the Ruhr that security is largely lost. Can France afford to retire even if the reparations are paid?&#13;
Without outside help the French can not gain security for their German boundary. Before 1914 they endeavored to secure it by an alliance with Russia and an entente with Great Britain. The alliance with Russia is impossible and the entente’ with Great Britain is no more.&#13;
To this point all discussions of the problem come and the next sentence is always that without the United States, either directly or through the League of Nations or by some other instrumentality, there is not the power in Europe to give France security by any process except military occupation.&#13;
If we fold our hands and watch, the world&#13;
27&#13;
will not come to an end, but the risk of another great war soon will be greatly enhanced. Looking at the recent course of history who can say that this is not a terrible risk for us?&#13;
A Good Case for American Isolation&#13;
HETHER the United States should isolate itself from European affairs in a general sense is a ques- tion upon which there is much difference of opinion; the most earnest preachers of American help to Europe, however, will ad- mit that there is one kind of activity from which we may completely isolate ourselves. There is a right way and a wrong way to con- cern ourselves with the troubles of the Old World; the recent approach made by the Turkish Government is emphatically the wrong way. Toward such enterprises as that suggested by the Chester concessions, the at- titude of splendid isolation is the only safe and dignified one. The move now made by the Angora Gov- ernment is characteristically Turkish and brings to mind all the intricacies of Turkish&#13;
REAR-ADMIRAL CHESTER&#13;
Of the American Navy, to whom the Young Turk&#13;
Government has granted wide sweeping concessions in&#13;
Asia Minor. The Turk is apparently attempting to&#13;
play the same game with the United States that he has&#13;
played with the European Powers for more than a century&#13;
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diplomacy for more than a century. During that period, of course, Turkey has existed only by playing upon the rivalries of the European powers. The Turkish nation long since lost all vitality or any ability to preserve its existence by its own strength. Any one of the great European Powers could have ob- literated the Ottoman Empire decades ago. Only by obtaining a powerful friend and playing that friend against the others has Turkey managed to survive as a nation. . In this game of statecraft the Ottoman has shown infinite skill. At one time Great Bri- tain stood supreme at the Sublime Porte; at another time Russia; at another time France. The most recent beneficiary of Turkish friend- ship was the Kaiser, who did not disdain to accept decorations from Abdul-Hamid and to have himself photographed in the uniform of a Turkish field marshal. The fact was that Turkey possessed things which these nations desired, both for commercial and _ political ends; above all, they were determined that none of their rivals should supplant them in the Ottoman sun. The world is fairly fami- liar with the consequences of this kind of statecraft. An inseparable condition was that the Turkish Empire must be maintained in all its integrity, and that the Sultan should be left free to wreak. his bloody will upon Armenians, Bulgarians, Greeks, Syrians, and other subject peoples. The whole proceeding is regarded by historians and statesmen as one of the most discreditable chapters in modern history.&#13;
It is commonly said—and truly—that the United States cannot be kept out of the European political system; that more and more we are becoming part of the Old World. The so-called Chester concessions are a case in point. The Turk is a little tired of his old European allies; they are not so strong and so rich as they were; his latest European sup- porter, Germany, has almost disappeared as a great power. He therefore needs a new associate to balance against his European neighbors, to play the part as a buffer played in turn by Great Britain, France, Russia, and Germany. At the present moment Europe is pressing him hard: he needs a friend. Quite naturally, therefore, he turns his face to the West. The Chester concessions are really an invitation to the United States to help him in resisting “reforms,” and in preserving the remnants of the Turkish Empire. Quite&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
significantly they are made on the eve of the assembling of the adjourned Lausanne Con- ference, at which American support would be most valuable.&#13;
There is no reason why Americans should not do their part in making Anatolia an in- habitable region or why American capitalists should not accept “concessions” for doing so. But concessions that imply political support are another matter. Unfortunately this is the only kind the Turk knows much about. It is something, therefore, in which the State Department should tread warily.&#13;
Canada’s Latest Assertion of Nationhood&#13;
NY sense of a growing spirit of inde- A pendence in Canada naturally has great interest for Americans, and it is therefore strange that one of the most signifi- cant episodes in the history of the Dominion has attracted little attention in this country. That is the situation created by the signature to the Halibut Fisheries Treaty, an instru- ment intended to regulate American and Canadian participation in that industry. Ac- cording to all precedent that is an arrange- ment between the British Empire and the United States. The State Department now takes that standpoint. American and Brit- ish diplomacy is filled with treaties regulating Canadian fisheries. In all cases the British Foreign Office has been the ultimate authority with which Washington has dealt—though Canada has frequently had a hand in the nego- tiations—and the treaties have been invari- ably signed by the American Secretary of State and the British Ambassador at Wash- ington. The point of course is that Canada has not been regarded as a sovereign state, with a Foreign Office of its own and inde- pendent diplomatic representation at Wash- ington, but as a dominion of the British Em- pire.&#13;
Until a few years ago Canada had accepted this procedure, but in recent years she has chafed at it, for two reasons. In the first place the conviction has rankled that Canada usually gets the worst of the negotiations; that the British Foreign Office, in its desire to conciliate the United States, yields us im- portant points at the expense of its own dominion.&#13;
More important, however, is the 3 growing sense of maturity and dignity that is 7 gaining ground, especially since the World jj&#13;
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War. making demands for their own Minister or Ambassador at Washington, who would have exclusive charge of relations that concerned&#13;
Even before 1914 Canadians were&#13;
Canada and the United States. The question came to a head in the signing of the recent fisheries treaty. The Canadian Government maintained that, inasmuch as the matter concerned solely Canada and the United States, the Canadian Minister of Fisheries, Mr. Lapointe, was the proper person to sign it. Sir Auckland Geddes, the British Minister at Washington, announced that the Foreign Office had instructed him to sign. Again the Canadian Government protested and London yielded, so that the treaty appears with Mr. Lapointe’s signature only. But now a con- stitutional question arises which contains within itself the possibilities of the dissolution of the British Empire. The discussion may develop into something like the famous “ strict constructionist”’ controversy in American history.&#13;
By what authority did the Canadian states- man sign this document? Obviously, say the “strict constructionists,” that of the King, acting on the advice of his constitutional ad- visers, that is, the British Cabinet. Not at all, say the constitutional revolutionaries in Canada. He acted on the authority of the King, of course, but the King acted on the advice of his ministers in Ottawa—that is, the Canadian Cabinet. From this point the discussion is spun into thin strands not dis- similar to the metaphysical reasonings in- jected into arguments on the American Con- stitution in slavery days. The British con- servatives have finally settled the question to their own satisfaction. ~ What really hap- pened was this: the Canadian Cabinet advised the King to authorize the Canadian minister to sign this treaty, and then the British Cabinet advised the King to accept that advice.&#13;
The progressive spirit of Canada, however, does not accept this constitutional interpreta- tion. More and more the Canadian mind conceives of their people as an independent, sovereign power, one of many that, by al- legiance to a common king, make up that family of nations known as the British Em- pire. The act of the Canadian minister in signing the treaty was therefore merely an- other expression of Canadian nationhood. This is apparently the status to which Canada&#13;
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THE LATE HENRY P.&#13;
In whose memory his widow has established six scholar-&#13;
ships in Harvard, Yale, and Princeton for six under-&#13;
graduates or B. A. graduates of Oxford and Cam- bridge, England&#13;
DAVISON&#13;
is rapidly advancing, though its complete realization does not involve separation from the British Empire.&#13;
A Plan to Bring Together British and American Boys&#13;
O BETTER memorial to the late&#13;
Henry P. Davison could be devised&#13;
than the scholarships for English boys recently established by his widow in the three leading American universities. The fund will pay the expenses (except tuition, which the American institutions will remit) of six English students, three from Oxford, and three from Cambridge, at Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. Each of the three American universities will thus always have two Englishmen in residence. Very wisely scholarship will be only one test in selecting the candidates. As the English students are to be chosen as representative men, their gen- eral character, and their general standing in the Oxford and Cambridge communities, will be important considerations. In this regard the Davison bequest follows the plan of Cecil Rhodes, who stipulated that, in the choice&#13;
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of American boys for Oxford scholarships, the manly character of the boys and their capacity for leadership should be given as much weight as their mental attainments.&#13;
Mrs. Davison, in establishing this memorial to her husband, gives as the chief purpose the “fostering of good-will between the United States and Great Britain.”” The greatest bar to the amiable understanding of the two countries is. their ignorance of each other. It is a common experience that Americans and Englishmen, when thrown into close association, admire and like each other. The codperation of the two peoples in the late war emphasized this truth. What- ever misunderstandings statesmanship and financial and commercial rivalries may cause, nothing can obliterate the respect which Tommies and Doughboys, and American and English officers, entertain for each other as a result of this mighty effort. In all these attempts to reach a closer understanding, the two nations owe it to each other to exhibit the best sides in their national life. This is a particular duty which Americans owe to themselves, for America is vast and varied and full of contradictions, and it is easy for foreigners, by gaining a glimpse at only one segment, to retain the grossest misappre- hensions. English boys who come into daily contact with Harvard, Yale, and Princeton will see the finest side of American life—its culture, its intelligence, its public spirit, its enthusiasm, its manliness. An Englishman who recently spent a day at the Harkness quadrangle of Yale, remarked, “| am going back home to tell them that America has a soul.’”’ Many other American universities beside the three chosen have their riches, material and spiritual, but none are so closely identified with the history of the country, in both the colonial and national eras. There is little doubt therefore that the Davison scholarships will perform their part in the noble work of introducing the young men of the two nations to each other.&#13;
Conventionr&#13;
HE Supreme Court decision against&#13;
the constitutionality of the minimum wage law has had the result that has inevitably followed many other similarly un-&#13;
popular decisions recently rendered. Under existing conditions there is only one way of&#13;
A Federal Constitutional&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
correcting this defect in our legal system, if it is a defect, and from many quarters now comes the demand for a constitutional amend- ment. This is not the only question of a similar kind which is demanding a similar remedy. Child labor; the equalization of the rights and privileges of the sexes; the revision of the powers of the Supreme Court in review- ing the laws of Congress; the initiative and referendum; a new method of electing presi- dents—such as the popular vote and the abolition of the electoral college; marriage and divorce;—the list is far from complete, but these are a few of the causes that are exerting themselves for a defined status in the Constitution. Since the original adoption of that measure there has never been a time when the advocates of constitutional change were so busy as now. The last ten years have demonstrated that it is a much simpler thing to change this fundamental instrument than had been supposed, and hence the great rush of new ideas.&#13;
The whole movement raises an even more important question, and one that is likely to claim much public attention from this time on. Has the day come, or is it likely soon to come, when another national convention is to be called to revise the Constitution in the light of the experience of nearly a century and a half? The revision of state constitutions is quite a common procedure; the Constitution of New York, indeed, contains a clause re- quiring its revision once in twenty years. No attempt has ever been made, however, to revise on a wholesale plan the great work of the “founding fathers.’’ Sentiment and fear, and not inertia, are responsible for this reluc- tance. Mr. Bryce said that the respect and awe which Americans feel for the Federal Con- stitution are not unlike the attitude of the British people toward the royal family—that the Constitution, as an object of reverence and as a symbol of unity, performs a service in holding the states together not dissimilar to that performed by the British King or Queen. Even those Americans who do not regard the Constitution as divinely inspired are frequently amazed at the prescience of its creators, and at the practicable workableness in modern conditions of an instrument drawn up in a time when most modern problems did not exist. By what foresight did the framers insert the interstate commerce clause which is now found adequate for controlling an acency&#13;
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of which they never dreamed—the railroads? Secret diplomacy was largely responsible for the World War; for almost the first time Americans grasped how wise this great group of statesmen had been in requiring that all treaties should be ratified by the Senate, thus forever making “secret diplomacy” impossi- ble in America. It is perhaps not strange that Americans should hesitate to tamper with an instrument so full of wisdom, except in the manner which the Constitution itself pro- vides, by amendment. The fear that out of such a convention would come something so different from the document adopted in 1789 that it would amount to a fundar ental over- turning of the American system, and substi- tute in our national life the spirit of constant change for that of permanence, is perhaps a sufficient reason for repudiating any such tendency.&#13;
Yet the Constitution is not perfect; a good deal of it is archaic and outworn; changing conceptions of government and life are daily suggesting essential changes. The time may therefore come, and come sooner than most believe, when a comprehensive revision will be undertaken.&#13;
No Babbitting of the Presidency&#13;
HE healthy reaction stirred up by the proposal to furnish Mr. Harding a press agent was an especially encourag- ing sign of the times. Dignity has not seemed a prime characteristic of American public life. We treat our important officials with a freedom that usually shocks the foreigner. Free and easy manners are too commonly regarded as indispensable attributes of de- mocracy. A Franklin standing in homespun in the presence of kings and duchesses is one of those bits of American history that are most indelibly impressed upon the American mind.&#13;
Yet one place has always seemed, even to the most bustling of Americans, to be set apart. We have never resented a certain reserve and dignity in the White House. Washington himself set the standard. Simple as were his presidential manners, he always rigidly exacted the personal respect which he regarded as the indispensable attribute of his office. If there are any displeasing traits in Lincoln’s character, they are those which displayed a lack of consideration for the&#13;
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of Events 131&#13;
proprieties of his position. Americans do not resent the fact that Thomas Jefferson hitched his own horse in the course of his occasional visits to the Capitol, for that was democratic simplicity and therefore fitting; the picture of Lincoln receiving foreign statesmen in his dressing gown and slippers, however, grated on the national sensibilities. Probably one reason why John Drinkwater’s “Abraham Lincoln” was so popular in this country was the fact that the character portrayed was, with all his fine human quality and simplicity, one of great personal dignity. The fine presidential proprieties that prevailed in the White House during the Roosevelt era are a memory of the great Rough Rider that is especially valued.&#13;
Thus the fact that Mr. Harding does not “sell himself’’ and needs a press agent to “put him over” is no disqualification, even if true. The White House is no place for a super- Babbitt. The American people would resent the antics of a “publicity expert,”’ constantly extolling the President’s achievements and “playing up” his strong points. The folly of the thing is as conspicuous as is its bad taste. Of course every president does “sell himself’’; whether he wishes it or not he is a “good advertiser.”’ There is no one man in the country who less successfully keeps out of the spot light; it is beating upon him con- stantly from thousands of front pages. His reticences and avoidances as well as_ his positive acts always proclaim the man. Everything Mr. Harding does or does not do is an element in building up this picture; and perhaps one of the most revealing and grate- ful glimpses he has given of his nature is the promptness with which he squelched the suggestion that a “publicity man” stand constantly at his side, interpreting his illusive nature to millions of newspaper readers.&#13;
The Progress of Governor Smith, of New York&#13;
HE Republican leaders of New York&#13;
are the most successful champions of the presidential prospects of Gover-&#13;
nor Alfred E. Smith. Seldom, indeed, has a political minority of a great political party behaved with such ineptitude. The present division of political power in the Empire State illustrates the shortcomings of the American system in their most glaring aspect.&#13;
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132 The World’s Work&#13;
GOVERNOR ALFRED E. SMITH&#13;
Of New York, whose praiseworthy attempt to create responsible government in New York State has been blocked by the Republican organization&#13;
The Democratic party controls the governor- ship and the Senate, whereas the Republicans control the Assembly; the result is that there is no fixed responsibility, and attempts at legislation represent merely the clash of par- tisan competition. It is fortunate for Gover- nor Smith that in the most important of these struggles the merits of the dispute are en- tirely on his side; he has the great advantage of fighting for a principle, while the Repub- licans are apparently acting on no other in- spiration than the famous doctrine that “it is the business of the opposition to oppose.”&#13;
In all the recent discussion of legislative improvements three essential reforms have generally been accepted as indispensable. The short ballot is the first. It is absurd to expect the voters to chose intelligently a large number of public officials; the only scientific system is that which prevails in the Federal Government, in which only two ex- ecutives are elected at the polls—the President and Vice-President—the rest being appoin- tive. The long ballots of state elections are popular only with the politicians whose power, used frequently for corrupt and always&#13;
 &#13;
for partisan purposes, it enormously strength- ens. There can be no responsible govern- ment without the short ballot. This is one of the things for which Governor Smith is now fighting.&#13;
The second is the executive budget. This reform is sweeping all over the United States, and is admittedly the one most important improvement made in decades in our gov- ernmental system. In no one state is it so needed as in New York, with its budget of ap- proximately 150 million dollars. This again is an item in Governor Smith’s programme and this again the Republican minority is fighting.&#13;
The reorganization of state departments, the consolidation of state activities, the avoid- ance of duplicating expenditures and efforts— this is another change which is inseparably connected with Budget Reform. Governor Smith has shown how the nearly two hundred departments of New York can be consolidated into about twenty, with an enormous saving of money. But the “credit” of instituting this change the Republicans also deny him.&#13;
Governor Smith believes that a four years’ term for the Governor would promote ef- ficiency, and in this again most students of American politics agree with him. But not the Republican minority at Albany, and its opposition is in this instance frankly partisan; such a change, it asserts, would make it more difficult for the Republican party to win elections. As long as elections take place every two years, every other one comes in a presidential year, a time when the normal Republican vote in New York State, out in force for the presidential candidate, can be depended on to sweep the state ticket into office.&#13;
Politically, therefore, New York at present offers a sorry spectacle. The mere fact that the Republican party controls the Assembly is blocking many desperately needed changes.&#13;
Troubles Looming Up in the Coal Regions&#13;
PRING having arrived with its warmth S the average American has largely for-&#13;
gotten the coal troubles of last year. Yet unless something is done to change conditions in the coal business the consumer is likely to meet last year’s troubles again next year and the year after.&#13;
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The basic question in the coal industry is whether the United Mine Workers shall ac- quire a monopoly of labor in that industry and with this monopoly not only fix the price of labor but also the price of coal.&#13;
If any association of American citizens who do not labor with their hands set out to gain control of an industry and fix the price of its products to the public, they would be put in jail for forming a conspiracy to restrain trade. Labor unions and farmers’ organizations have been exempted from the provisions of this law. The reason for this exemption was the impression that labor, generally speaking. was not powerful enough to deal on a fair basis with employers unless it was organized and that in any case its activities did not hurt the public much, if any. Legally the exemption of labor from the Sherman Anti-trust and other similar laws was based on the idea that human labor is not a commodity, such as iron and steel, and that, whereas labor is bought and sold, it can not be altogether treated as an inanimate commodity.&#13;
All this is true and proper. However, when the application of the theory of ex- empting labor unions from the Sherman Law begins to cost the public vast sums in im- proper coal bills, the matter takes on a dif- ferent aspect. The public is the final au- thority and its welfare the consideration by which all questions must ultimately be settled.&#13;
The United Mine Workers have long been a strong union. In the coal fields which it controls it is all powerful. It is rich. It gets its riches by the check-off system. Under this system the mining companies deduct from each man’s wages his dues to the union and send them to the union treasury—not only his dues but any assessments which the union may levy. The United Mine Workers can and do raise twelve or fifteen million dollars a year in this manner. With such large sums in its treasury it is an extremely powerful or- ganization. But in spite of its power so far there are several coal fields—the most impor- tant being West Virginia—where the union has no foothold. Last summer, when the union called the strike which caused such suffering last winter, the non-union fields began to increase their production to such an extent that the strike would have failed had the United Mine Workers not succeeded in stimulating the railroad strike; this prevented&#13;
of Events 133&#13;
the movement of sufficient coal from the non- union fields. But the Mine Workers Union is not content with winning its strike by the help of the railroad workers. It is deter- mined to secure a complete monopoly of coal mine labor and it has even gone so far several times as to organize armed bands to introduce unionism in non-union territory by force. At Herrin, IIl., and elsewhere it has organized armed men to drive out or kill any who should endeavor to mine coal while the United Mine Workers were on strike. Its great funds raised by the check-off system supplied the money to pay counsel at the Herrin trials. In this mining district, although everyone knew that men were lined up in front of a barbed wire fence and shot in cold blood, no one has been convicted. Both the murders and the collapse of justice are triumphs for the United Mine Workers. In another case the United Mine Workers practised sabotage upon a mine which refused to adopt the check- off. Their campaign of destruction was so successful that they finally destroyed the mine. But their escape from justice was not so successful as at Herrin. The union finally paid $400,000 for the campaign of sabotage which it had conducted.&#13;
A Union Which Seeks a Monopoly&#13;
HE Union Mine Workers are no longer&#13;
the weak gathering of workingmen&#13;
banded together to protect themselves&#13;
from the unfair domination of their employ-&#13;
ers. It is a militant organization with a war chest determined upon a monopoly.&#13;
The public is interested that the miner may have protection in his dangerous calling and that he may have a fair wage. It is also in- terested that the miners, like everyone else, do not transgress the laws of the land and that they do not by monopoly or otherwise profiteer on an essential article of public consumption.&#13;
The United Mine Workers can neither reasonably ask nor expect any public sym- pathy for their campaigns of warfare, murder, and sabotage by which they have endeavored to maintain and extend their monopoly. Nor can they expect any public sympathy for that monopoly itself. In Illinois, common laborers belonging to the union working above ground outside the mine shafts are getting $6.60 a day, from 25 to 50 per cent. more&#13;
 &#13;
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134&#13;
 &#13;
JOHN LEWIS President of the United Mine Workers. situation in the mining districts is smoldering. issue at stake is whether the mines are to remain in private proprietorship or to be governmentally owned&#13;
The labor The real&#13;
than common labor is getting at other tasks. And the miners are likewise getting similar large pay per day. It is true, as the Mine Workers claim, that they do not work much more than half the time. But with a swollen rate of pay, miners prefer to stay in this business, idle a third of the time, to work- ing all the year round at lower wages at some- thing else.&#13;
The non-union fields, where wages are not so high, would normally encroach on the busi- ness of the union fields and it is the fear of this that leads the United Mine Workers to endeavor by persuasion, war, or any other means to extend their monopoly to the present non-union fields. Once that is accomplished the union’s dictation of price for coal will be complete.&#13;
In most industries the public has looked to the employer to prevent labor from profiteer- ing. Ina large measure, in this country this has happened, for there have been few unions in this country strong enough to maintain a monopoly. But the Mine Workers are now dominant. The operators of union mines are afraid of them. The public must look to some other force for protection from extortion.&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
There are two possible forces. the competi- tion of the non-union mine fields and govern- ment regulation.&#13;
The competition of the non-union mines can be counted upon as a protection for the public if the public authorities will protect non- union men at work. But that means a pub- lic condemnation of the Mine Workers’ cam- paign of sabotage, murder, and war: the union will have to give up these methods of increas- ing its hold on the coal business.&#13;
When the Government failed last summer to reach any solution of the coal problem, the President appointed a Fact Finding Com- mission under the chairmanship of John Hays Hammond.&#13;
This body is now meeting and taking testi- mony. The testimony is largely from either the United Mine Workers or the mine opera- tors. It is the tendency of such commissions to listen to both sides and then make a report suggesting a compromise—usually at the pub- lic expense. This kind of settlement of the coal problem has been going on for a long time. It is to be hoped that this commission will look at the matter from the public’s point of view and recommend a policy for the public benefit. If this is done with honesty and courage there will be public support enough to give such a policy a real test even though it be a difficult policy to carry out.&#13;
Relief from Egypt&#13;
ET us suppose that J. Pierpont Mor- . gan, when he died ten years ago, left no descendants and therefore no direct&#13;
heirs among whom his great art treasures could be divided. Let us imagine further that his representatives, not wishing to leave these to be fought over by a crowd of remote relatives, decided to bury them in a tomb carved out of the solid rock of New York State—say in the Highlands of the Hudson— and that, with elaborate ceremonies, they laid the great magnate to rest with his priceless collections and walled up the en- trance. Ina hundred or two years débris of various kinds collects over this entrance, ul- timately so completely obliterating it that all knowledge of its location disappears. Gradu- ally the boasted American civilization crum- bles away, our skyscrapers fall to earth and leave only a few ruins; the art of constructing our steel bridges, railroads, automobiles, air-&#13;
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The March of Events 135&#13;
planes, telephones, and radios is lost; our very writing becomes merely a mass of mysterious symbols, whose secret lies undis- covered for many centuries. Barbarians swarm over the American soil; the centre of civilization shifts, perhaps to those northern regions which Mr. Stefansson has recently protrayed as the future abiding place of progressive peoples. Thus three thousand years pass away; the energetic races above the Arctic Circle become curious about the his- toric fragments located at the mouth and along the bank of the Hudson; their savants eventually solve the secret of our writing and discover many astonishing things that lead them to believe that this ruined area was anciently populated by races of high intelli- gence who in many of the arts and mechanics of life surpassed themselves. Excavating ex- peditions set to work, wonder after wonder is uncovered, and finally, to the amazement of the world, the splendors of Mr. Morgan’s tomb are revealed. The paintings, the tap- estries—alas! in a state of fragile decay— the pottery, the jewels, the furniture, the books of an entirely forgotten age stand at last revealed. All traces of the American and European civilization of past ages have&#13;
 &#13;
disappeared; only the fortunate fact that Mr. Morgan’s treasures were buried with him at last discloses the great secrets of a long de- parted era.&#13;
If such a thing could conceivably happen, the future would witness a phenomenon not unlike that recently uncovered in the Valley of the Tombs in Egypt. For Tut-ankh-amen was the last of his line; he left no heirs; and that, according to the great British Egyptolo- gist, Flinders Petrie, is the reason all this artistic wealth was placed in his tomb. More- over it was, like Mr. Morgan’s, a collection; it had been accumulated for many years, perhaps for more than a century, by the Pharoah’s predecessors; like Mr. Morgan’s, it was not exclusively drawn from any one country; it had been assembled from the en- tire world as it then existed; it has already been established, for example, that one of the priceless couches was really a gift to Tut-ankh-amen’s predecessor from the King of Babylon. It was thus just as representa- tive of the civilized world of three thousand years ago as was Mr. Morgan’s of his own and preceding ages. And this is what gives it its preéminent value. Many months, perhaps many years, will pass before the mass of ma-&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
THE VALLEY OF THE KINGS IN EGYPT&#13;
Recent discoveries in which have uncovered an entirely new chapter in ancient civilization&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
  &#13;
136&#13;
 &#13;
terial is completely rescued and restored. But it is already known that a new and great chapter has been added to history. The dis- covery comes at a happy time; it gives the world a sadly needed new interest, for cer- tainly a diversion from horrid war and still more horrid peace, from reparations, sanc- tions, invasions, and conferences, will be an excellent thing for the overwrought nerves of mankind.&#13;
Boston Turns on ‘‘Hudson Seal”’&#13;
OR the last year the Better Business } Commission of Boston has been en- gaged in a particularly praiseworthy enterprise; that of improving the truthfulness of advertising. American business houses have for years manifested a higher conscience in this detail than those of any other country. Many reputable European magazines and newspapers carry advertising of a deceptive and demoralizing character—advertising which American periodicals of equal standing would never admit. It might therefore seem that this “crusade” was one not emphatically demanded. The main intention is to clean up a few of the minor deceptions that still exist, and it is especially creditable that this organization is aiming not primarily at the small advertisers but at the great department stores. Certain houses are still inclined to advertise goods as wool when in reality they are a mixture of wool and cotton; it is precisely little misrepresentations of this kind which the Commission aims to correct. The procedure is direct and even drastic. The Better Business Commission has a group of professional shoppers, who start on their daily rounds armed with newspaper advertise- ments, visit the department stores, compare the goods displayed with the goods advertised, and then make written reports concerning their truthfulness or their mendacity. Any proprietor caught misrepresenting, even in the smallest degree, has the discrepancy immediately called to his attention. In most cases they at once reform, the result being that department store advertising in Boston is rapidly approaching perfection, so far as its reliability is concerned.&#13;
The Better Business Commission asserts that it has already cleaned up one branch of advertising that especially needed reformation; fur advertising in Boston, it claims, is more&#13;
 &#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
truthful than in any large American city. Such furs as “Hudson Seal,” “Arctic Seal” and “Baltic Seal’? have practically dis- appeared from the newspaper announcements. The fact that the Commission has made a drive against these mild misrepresentations illustrates the high standards exacted. Prob- ably few purchasers of “Hudson Seal’’ are under the misapprehension’ that they are acquiring a genuine sealskin coat. Most women know that “Hudson Seal” is really dyed muskrat. But why, demand the Boston reformers, call it a seal when it is not a sealP Why not give the muskrat the credit, especially as it has so obligingly sur- rendered its pelt? And there is another consideration involved; the habit of calling dyed muskrat “Hudson Seal,” even though no one is deceived, gives unscrupulous manu- facturers an excuse for dying other furs and producing other “seals.” Thus there are “Arctic Seals,” “ Baltic Seals,” “ Bay Seals,” —none of which are sealskin, but merely dyed rabbit. If dyed muskrat is a seal, why is not dyed rabbit? There is thus no limit to the consequences of one tolerated de-, ception.&#13;
Women can buy a muskrat coat in Boston, or a rabbit coat, but they cannot buy a “Hudson Seal” or a “Baltic Seal.” Thus does the new conscience in business gradually lift the level of business morals.&#13;
The Larger Field for Bond Selling&#13;
T IS by the sale of bonds that the perma-&#13;
| nent financing of the industries of the country is largely done. The sale of bonds is one essential of our prosperity. Before the war the average sale of bonds by an investment banking house amounted to about $10,000; to-day it is $2,000 or $3,000. That means, that with the sales a third or less of what they used to be there must be three or four times as many bond buyers as there were before the war in order to absorb the bonds of the railroads, public utility com- panies, industrial concerns, and foreign gov- ernments that have been offered here since the war. Happily this largely increased&#13;
number of buyers has appeared.&#13;
Those who used to buy corporation bonds in blocks of $10,000 are the people of large incomes who are subject to the high income surtaxes.&#13;
They now buy tax-exempt bonds&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
—_ =&#13;
     &#13;
of the Federal, state, city, and county gov- ernments. The interest on these is lower than the interest on corporation securities but the difference is not as much as the tax which is thus avoided. It is the people of smaller incomes who are not subject ‘to the high sur- taxes to whom corporation and foreign bonds must now be sold.&#13;
Fortunately there seem to be enough of these people to take all such securities that are offered. The Liberty Loan campaigns gave a liberal education in bond buying and since‘the war the amount of corporate financ- ing consummated annually has exceeded the pre-war average. When the foreign financing is added, the total is much greater.&#13;
The difference in the size of holdings shows graphically this change in the bond buy- ing public. And the income tax returns show that the number of taxable incomes of $1,000,000 .and over fell off 80 per cent. from 1916 to 1920, due to this change from taxable to tax-exempt investments. The actual falling off of such returns was from 206 in 1916 to 33 in 1920. On the other hand, the growth in the number of re- turns of incomes of from $3,000 to $5,000 (where most of the smallest of our new bond buyers are to be found) has been 750 per cent. In this case the gain is from 157,149 returns in 1916 to 1,337,116 in 1920. The larger part is actual although some small part of the gain is undoubtedly due to the fact that many people with such incomes did not report them in 1916.&#13;
This chart shows the broadening of the field for bond selling. But to sell bonds to ten people where formerly they were sold to one requires different selling methods, and we are to-day witnessing a popularizing of the bond selling business. Leading real estate mortgage bond houses (one of which discovered to its own astonishment years ago that a real estate mortgage could be split up into small parts and sold to many investors) have been pio- neers in popularizing and humanizing bond sell- ing. They have found that bonds can be sold by advertising when the right kind of copy is used. Other investment houses are also abandoning the stereotyped methods of the past and are pitching their appeal to a larger audience. Illustrations and other aids to&#13;
The March of Events&#13;
     &#13;
         &#13;
 &#13;
1 37&#13;
artistic beauty are now appearing in the cir- culars and advertisements of leading in- vestment banking houses. The bond sales- man who must now find ten customers where formerly he had to find but one, needs these modern aids to merchandizing. The in- vestment houses that have adopted them have found that they pay.&#13;
One of these houses, which has clearly visu- alized this broadening of the investment busi- ness, has adopted its selling methods to take full advantage of it, and has gone so far as to sell its bonds on the instalment plan, has had very interesting experiences with this method of selling. While the sales do not pay directly because of the great amount of detail work con- nected with them, this house has found that indirectly, in ways that can be clearly traced, they do pay. Those who make their first in- vestments in this way invariably come back to buy more bonds, for which they often pay outright. And they frequently bring other business to the house. In one case the house traced thirteen distinct sales to one small partial payment account; the total of the sales was $75,000. While thus serving small investors and stimulating saving, this house is profiting by it as well. The number of instalment accounts on its books is now more than $5,000.&#13;
A Correction Concerning Governor Towner&#13;
it was stated that Governor Horace M.&#13;
Towner, of Porto Rico, was at the time of his appointment a “lame duck,” or a de- feated candidate for Congress serving out his term.&#13;
This statement was an error. Mr. Towner had been reélected to Congress. He resigned from that body, where he was a member of the Insular Affairs Committee, to accept the governorship of Porto Rico to which he had previously made at least one trip. The Wor p’s Work wishes to rectify its previous mistake and to wish the new Governor of Porto Rico a success that will rank him with our best insular administrators.&#13;
| N THE April issue of the Wor_p’s Work&#13;
  &#13;
 &#13;
THE GROWTH OF A “RAINY DAY FUND”&#13;
Every month in this part of the magazine the Wor pv’s Work prints an article on investments&#13;
and the lessons to be learned therefrom.&#13;
This month’s story is from a Wor.pv’s Work reader&#13;
and correspondent of the Readers’ Service Bureau who started saving a “rainy day fund” soon after he began work at seventeen, and who now, at sixty, has well over $100,000 to provide for&#13;
himself and his wife in their old age. as instructive as these.&#13;
HEN | was a boy, seven-&#13;
teen years old, | was placed&#13;
on my own resources and&#13;
started work at 7 cents an&#13;
hour, working sixty hours&#13;
a week and paying my board out of the $4.20 that | received.&#13;
| managed to get along on this for a short&#13;
time until my employer felt warranted in&#13;
giving me a cent an hour more, which he did&#13;
from time to time. 1 worked hard and was&#13;
happy, especially when | was able to put a&#13;
little money aside each week. It has always&#13;
been my endeavor to save something for a rainy day—for sickness or unemployment.&#13;
Fortunately neither of these two ccnditions happened; my health has been good and in the dullest times | always have had work, either for others or in my own small business for a time.&#13;
So my “rainy day fund”’ grew until | felt that | was able to buy a small home. My first investment, therefore, was in a modest though comfortable home. The house was all right but | soon found that the location was not right. A vacant lot across the street, on which private houses were to be built, was used instead for the erection of an undesirable commercial establishment. This changed the character of the neighborhood and | sold my house at a loss of about 25 per cent. of the purchase price. This was a hard blow but I learned a lesson.&#13;
After buying and paying for a better home in a good neighborhood, | was again able to start saving for other investments. | began buying first mortgages on improved city real estate and these investments proved satisfac- tory aside from the fact that the interest was occasionally delayed and at the time the mort- gages expired they were sometimes paid off&#13;
Other readers may have had experiences as interesting and If so, the Worip’s Work would be glad to hear about them.— Tue Epitors.&#13;
which meant occasional reinvestment troubles.&#13;
My next experience in the investment game was rather an unfortunate and expensive one. It was caused by the advice of a “friend’’ who persuaded me to invest in seashore lots. | bit and got bitten. | bought two lots in different sections. On one | had to build as per agreement and after all the building troubles | sold the place at a very nominal profit. The other lot, for which | paid too much in the first place, instead of increasing in value, decreased steadily, and for some years there were no buyers at all. Not until after fifteen years was | able to sell and then at a greatly reduced figure.&#13;
In this investment my good money, instead of earning something for me, if only 33 or 4 per cent., was lying idle all this time. In the second place, the tax expense increased yearly and was a total loss tome. And in the third and last place when | finally did sell | lost about 35 per cent. of the money | had paid for the lot. The only lot I have bought since then was a cemetery lot and | know this is the last lot | ever shall buy.&#13;
After having purchased a number of local real estate mortgages, at one time when I had some money to invest, | could not get any- thing more of this kind, so | went to a local bond broker and bought a municipal bond. Occasionally after that this broker sold me other bonds, all of which have proved satis- factory. My connection with this concern was broken when | moved to another city, but all my business in the way of purchasing securities—railroad, public utility, industrial, or real estate mortgages—has been done with reliable firms and I am pleased to say that so far | have never lost any interest and I feel my principal is safe and the securities can be realized upon with little trouble.&#13;
 &#13;
ling inal too sing ome ntil hen&#13;
read or 4 the ased | the ell | had ught this&#13;
local had any- local yond. 1 me satis- cern city, asing trial, with iat so | feel 5 can&#13;
The Growth of a “Rainy Day Fund”&#13;
There was another experience, however, which caused me some sorrow and worry. lt was an investment in the stock of a new industrial enterprise. That was the work of a sweet talker who found his sucker and | lost. Never again! | still own considerable industrial stock, but it is practically all in a growing company with the progress of which | am kept fairly well posted. This invest- ment grew out of my own experience in business.&#13;
My investments in bonds, which, with my real estate mortgages, amount to $75,000 par value, | have made on the recommendation of reliable investment houses together with advice gathered from other sources—the Wor Lp’s Work for one. It was my endeavor at first to get as high a return as | could from mortgage securities; and as high grade railroad bonds then sold very high, | picked out what my limited knowledge told me would be good public utility bonds. | was advised some years ago, | think by the WorLp’s Work, that | should add some railroad bonds to my list, at least more than | had in proportion to the public utilities, in order to diversify my hold- ings, and | selected from time to time railroad issues such as Pennsylvania Railroad general mortgage bonds, Cheaspeake &amp; Ohio first consolidated mortgage 5s, Atchison general 4s, Oregon-Washington R. R. &amp; Navigation first and refunding 4s, Chicago, Burlington &amp; Quincy general 4s, New York Central re- funding 5s, Great Northern refunding 54s, and Norfolk &amp; Western consolidated 4s.&#13;
Some of these | feel | paid too much for, but I am satisfied to pay some extra for greater safety. Most all of them, however, | bought at comparatively low figures. Several times, in order to take advantage of the low prices, | borrowed money on collateral, and | am sorry now that I did not play that game stronger. 1 bought such bonds as Norfolk &amp; Western 4s at 74. It not only gave me a return of 5 per cent., or more, on very high grade stuff, but it also gave me an incentive to get rid of the bank loan as soon as possible.&#13;
My present bond and mortgage invest- ments, three fourths of which have been made out of savings from wages and salary, are now divided about as follows: Liberty Bonds 4 per cent., Municipals 2 per cent. Real Estate Mortgages 20 per cent., Railroad bonds 32 per cent., Public Utilities 37 per cent., Industrials 5 per cent. | am now nearly&#13;
i 39&#13;
sixty years old and am still working for a salary, but there will be a time when the income from my savings will have to keep my- self and wife. My children are educated and have good positions.&#13;
My advice to a son is:&#13;
Live comfortably but be thrifty and saving.&#13;
Put your systematic savings in a good sav- ings bank to begin with.&#13;
Start some shares in a building and loan association.&#13;
If you have some surplus money study up investments and get a high grade security even if you have to pay something for redun- dant safety.&#13;
Get reports on your investments at least once a year.&#13;
It is natural for a man who wishes to make conservative investments to read up on matters pertaining to the subject and to form a set of rules to govern the selection and diversification of his securities. I have al- ways felt that a business man in the prime of life, especially one well posted regarding the different kinds of securities, could buy issues that would not be suited to my purpose. My aim for several years past has been to get high grade bonds of fairly long maturity, say twelve years or more, and lately | have felt it better to buy 5 per cent. bonds between 92 and 08, if they are callable at 105, than 6 per- cent. bonds around par or over which could be called at 105. If the former are called, | take my profit and then can afford to reinvest at a reduced rate of interest.&#13;
The question of selecting the right kind of security when | have funds available for investment very often has been and still is usually a matter of more or less concern. One of my rules has been to ask advice from some reliable and disinterested source, and | take great pleasure in stating that I have taken great interest in what | could learn from articles printed in the WorLp’s Work and have always welcomed any advice from the Readers’ Service Bureau.&#13;
If you think there is anything in this that will help some young man to get started sav- ing or keep him on the lookout for people who are trying to make a sucker out of him, you are welcome to use it. Life is short and | think many, many men cannot afford to lose a lot of hard earned money and have enough left to make them fairly independent in old age.&#13;
 &#13;
Politics as a Profession&#13;
How Really Successful Politics Should Be Played. The Need for Men Who Put Service Above Self, Who Work for Causes and Ideals, and Who are Willing to Lose a Fight Rather Than Compromise Themselves&#13;
By THE RIGHT HONORABLE DAVID LLOYD GEORGE&#13;
BUSE of politicians as a tribe is one of the commonplaces of all smoking rooms. One of the charges which is freely brought against them is that they wrangle&#13;
incessantly about worthless trivialities: they embroil the nation about differences between Tweedledum and Tweedledee, or, as Dean Swift put it, “about whether you should break the egg at the big or the little end.’”’ No doubt there have been times of which this can be said with the most complete truth. You can read of periods in the political history of England when it would have been very difficult to distinguish the contending prin- ciples for which the Whigs and the Tories fought with savage ferocity. I have some-&#13;
times asked politicians in foreign countries&#13;
to explain to me the difference between the various groups into which the electors seem to be divided in those lands. Their explana- tions have often appeared to me quite in- explicable. | have no doubt if a similar question had been addressed to me at certain periods in the history of our political conflicts, foreigners would have been equally puzzled to appreciate the lines of divergence and de- marcation between the wrestling teams here. That is no condemnation of politicians. It is more often a reflection of the political, social, or economic conditions of the times. They are only keeping in training for the hour when the real fight comes. Just like armies they have their firing practice and their sham fights and their great Autumn manoeuvres. No one is seriously hurt, everybody enjoys himself. There is the joy of conflict and the rapture of triumph exactly as if it were a real battle—and the newspapers are full of the skill of the generals and the discipline and the gallantry of the troops. To the onlooker they all appear very ridiculous and very wasteful of expensive ammunition and of time&#13;
and energy. But when real warfare comes you will find that these years of drilling and practising have all served a useful purpose. So in politics, when great issues arise you have a body of men trained to instruct, to appeal, to organize, and to carry through a great pur- pose or a great cause to victory. It is often the only defence put forward when introduc- ing party politics into municipal contests. And there have been times when there can be no doubt as to the gravity and moment of the issues in challenge between the parties. The freedom of the conscience, the liberty of speech, the rights of citizenship, national freedom at home and abroad, peace or war, the conditions of life in home and factory— these are some of the tremendous questions over which parties have fought their political battles. Questions are arising which involve the very foundations of our social and eco- nomic system. It is well that they should be settled by a highly trained political people. What happens in the absence of this education and discipline is seen in the state of Russia to-day.&#13;
You can find no better illustration of the value of the political training for which our partisan warfare is responsible than the use to which politicians were put during the Great War. It will give you an idea of the im- portance in a grave national emergency of political training which the institutions of England afford. When men had to be raised for our armies the campaign was conducted largely by our great political organizations; when money had to be raised to pay the expenses of the war the politician, with his gifts of appeal to the masses, was invaluable; when the zeal of the nation flagged, owing to losses and deferred hope, the politician with his trained gift for rousing tired zeal and re- kindling exhausted emotions was indispens- able; when employers had to be persuaded to&#13;
 &#13;
Politics as a Profession&#13;
convert their factories into arsenals, and workmen had to be persuaded to work over- time, the politicians had to be mobilized.&#13;
It is interesting from this point of view alone to read the remarkable books written by the Germans to explain their defeat. One must make an allowance for the natural disposition of one class of men to lay the blame for dis- aster upon the shoulders of another. We must discount a good deal for the old rivalry between soldiers and politicians. But taking all this into account, the facts themselves drive you to the conclusion that there is much to be said for the criticism put forward by the great German military leaders, that the completeness of the disaster was due largely to the fact that the German politician did not do his duty in organizing and keeping up the spirit of the nation behind the lines. Conscripts were mobilized, but not con- sciences. In these days the former are of no use without the latter. The result was that&#13;
the spirit of the German people collapsed be- fore the resistance of the soldiers had broken. Letters that poured from towns and villages beyond the reach of danger into trenches which were deluged with death, were filled with dispiriting and discouraging matter which&#13;
weakened the morale of the troops. There&#13;
141&#13;
was no one in Germany to arouse the patriot- ism of the people, to raise their spirits, to in- fuse iron into their blood, to inspire them to endure hardships, to face anxieties, to bear growing burdens. You may say it was the failure of a system. That is true. In this war, free democracy in France, Belgium, Italy, America, and Britain showed it had greater powers of endurance than autocratic or semi- autocratic government in Russia, Austria, and Germany. And for the work of free democ- racy the-politician is essential.&#13;
What qualities do you require to achieve success in politics? At least every quality of capacity and character which is necessary to command success in any other walk of life. Like any other great career, politics demand intelligence, insight, imagination, concentra- tion, industry, uprightness in life and conduct. Every lapse is a handicap which weights you down in the race, and slackness of every kind is, in the end, fatal. The rotten branch soon breaks under the strain of political life. You may win popularity with meretricious gifts, but you can never retain it without real quality. But if | were to choose the gifts which you specially need more in politics than in any other pursuit or profession, | would begin with courage. All life demands cour-&#13;
 &#13;
THREE GENERATIONS OF THE LLOYD GEORGE FAMILY The former premier is shown here with his daughter, Mrs. Carey Evans, and his grand-daughter&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
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The Right Honorable&#13;
age, but there is no vocation which makes a more constant draft on courage, every kind of courage—moral courage, prompt courage, but most of all the courage that lasts and the kind of courage that rises with discourage- ment. A political career is full of disappoint- ments and hurts. Politicians work in an atmosphere of criticism and censure. There are men engaged and organizations main- tained for the purpose of disparaging, finding fault, and condemning politicians—their prin- ciples, their words, their actions. Every deed and phrase is scrutinized by trained eyes with miscroscopic minuteness, and blemishes, if not exaggerated, are, at least, presented in the dimensions in which they appear through the microscope. There are some men who at- tract more criticism than others. Everything they say, everything they do, or everything they fail to say or neglect to do is promptly&#13;
LLOYD GEORGE WITH HIS WIFE AND DAUGHTER&#13;
Miss Megan Lloyd George, shown here with her parents, is one of her father’s closest companions&#13;
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David Lloyd George&#13;
fastened upon; some could not walk across a golf course on Sunday without incessant re- proach, others might tee their ball on the church steeple with hardly a murmur. A politician makes a mistake. Never to err in word or deed is not human. Everybody makes mistakes in his business or calling, and if every business man were liable to have not only his transactions but the very words in which he transacted them subjected to close examination in public would any escape reproof? But what happens to the politician who blunders in act or speech? He wakes up one morning and finds from his newspaper that his error is blazoned forth to the world, and he is principally conscious of the fact that at that moment there are millions of his fellow-countrymen either abusing him, curs- ing him, or, what is still worse, laughing at him. | have seen men who had faced death and torture in every form, quail and shrink before ridicule, for the cor- rosive shafts of ridicule burn and gnaw into our very tissues. The poor politician has to endure it through life, and when he reads of his mistake and of the use which is made of it he knows he will never hear the end of it. He will again and again be reproached with it and when his unfortunate stumble is published to the world he realizes that fate has tied an- other knot in the lash with which the furies flog his lacerated back through life. There is no profes- sion which is carried on under such exacting, irritating, and mortifying conditions. Just im- agine what would happen if a barrister or a clergyman or a doc- tor had to discharge the duties attached to their exalted profes- sions under the conditions which afflict the life of the politician. Let us take the case, first of all, of the barrister. He has to con- duct a very difficult and compli- cated casein Court. He does his best for his client, puts the whole of his strength and ability into the presentation of his case. A real aptitude for the study and practice of the law and a life of in- dustrious application to its duties&#13;
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Politics as a Profession&#13;
have given him proficiency. He has worked hard at this particular brief, all the experience and ac- cumulated skill of a lifetime, added to no mean natural gifts, are all placed at the disposal of the man whose cause he is plead- ing. Nevertheless, the following morning this is the kind of com- ment which would, if he were treated like politicians, appear in the press which happened to be hostile to him and to his cause: “The opening of the case of Brown v. Robinson by Mr. Ernest Pleader, K. C., yesterday, was, by universal consent to say the least, disappointing. As we have repeatedly pointed out in these columns, the plaintiff’s case at best is a bad one, but Mr. Pleader made the worst of a bad case. We areaware that a knowledge of law and its principles are not his strong point, but we credited him with the possession of a vein of crude emotionalism which ap- peals to a certain type of petty juror. Yesterday, however, even that resource failed him com- pletely. He emptied galleries at-&#13;
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tracted by the interest of thecase. The jury looked with envious eyes at those who were free to depart. His cross-examination was hectoring without being effective. Buzfuz at least won his case. Pleader lost his. We are not surprised that the popularity of this well-known advocate which was always confined to a certain class of client and case—not by any means the highest—is waning, even in that quarter.”&#13;
That is not an unfair parallel to the criti- cism to which politicians are subjected. There are probably few men who could have done it better than poor Pleader, and they are certainly not amongst the critics; and the men who could do it better were probably en- gaged on other causes and were there sub- jected to exactly the same kind of criticism.&#13;
May I dare to imagine the kind of para- graph that would be written about great surgeons:&#13;
“We are loth to dwell on the horrible scenes that were enacted yesterday at the operating theatre of St. Blank’s, when Sir Ruthless&#13;
PREMIER LLOYD GEORGE WITH THE KING&#13;
Cutter performed what ought to have been a perfectly simple operation in a manner which&#13;
would have disgraced a mere novice. We hate using the word ‘Butchery,’ but the English language in all its opulence can fur- nish us with no other equally appropriate.” Then come the clergy. Here | will quote headlines only, for the whole article would be too long for quotation. These are the large headlines in a popular paper in reference to the Minister of a Church whose doctrines and traditions are obnoxious to the paper in which these comments appear. The first is a report of the Sunday morning sermon. “Even the deacons yawn’’; “Why sleep at homer” The next is “An emptying Church”; the next is “ Moral condition of parish deteri- orating under new régime”. Then comes the turn of the missionary, and these are the head- lines: “Appalling waste on cannibals’’; the next, “Clear out of the Solomon Islands.”&#13;
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These methods are not exactly encourag- ing, not very nerving, certainly not agreeable, and | doubt whether they are very helpful. But they are all fairly good samples of the kind of criticism which is inflicted on the poli- tician in every act he does and every phrase which he uses. | am not going to pretend that all the public comments take the form of censure and attack. There are compensa- tions, for the politician who invites onslaught on the other hand never lacks appreciation, and the zeal of his adherents is fanned by the breeze of opposition. And the measure of appreciation he enjoys is generally in pro- portion to the intensity of the hostility he ex- cites. And if he is of any use at all, to be attacked and admired is better for him than to be ignored. Indifference and apathy are fatal to the joy of labor, but countered criti- cism is a stimulant. Still, the joys of politics are an acquired taste, and you must get ac- customed to them. When you do, if you are wise you will discount both excessive praise and captious blame, and arrive at a working balance. Thus alone can a politician pre- serve his sanity of mind. There are not many that get right through. There are not many&#13;
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WHERE LLOYD GEORGE LIVES&#13;
When he left No. 10 Downing Street, the official home of the British Prime Minister, he moved to this modest London house&#13;
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The Right Honorable David Lloyd George&#13;
who survive, but those who do are a hardy tribe. As for the rest, they either turn back altogether, or stop half way. Or, if they get to their objective, they are apt to seek shelter in the igloos, leaving it to the more intrepid and adventurous to do the hunting and ex- ploring.&#13;
So, if you are thinking of a political career do not imagine that it is a life of comfort and ease and enjoyment. If you like the sort of thing | have described, you will enjoy it; otherwise you had better try something else. There are those who will tell you that if you go into politics you must have a thick skin. They are quite wrong. Thick skins generally go with thick heads. Sensitiveness and sus- ceptibility, if kept under control and properly directed, are a source of power. It is not a thick head that is required, but a stout heart.&#13;
! therefore, put courage, enduring courage, in the forefront of the qualifications for a real politician’s life. What else do you need? You ought to have the gift of speech. You often hear that “politicians are all talk, talk, talk and nothing done.”” You will generally find that the kind of man who most em- phatically objects to talk is the man who himself talks everybody else down by his strident garrulity—the type of man who, as George Meredith said in telling mea story of a noisy man he once met in Cumberland, “talks down the tunnels.”’ Judging from the specimens | have seen, great doers are also great talkers. Some of the greatest business men | have ever met talk like the Gulf Stream. You cannot always tell where their story begins or how it ends, but all the same it sweeps you along its resistless current. The strong silent man may have roamed the earth in prehistoric days, but I have never met him nor have | heard of any one else who has; and | feel sure he must now be as extinct as the Mastodon. But with politicians, speak- ing is an essential part of their business. It is true that politicians have to depend upon speech as their most accustomed and potent weapon. Parliamentary government means, etymologically as well as in reality, govern- ment by talk. Bagehot said that the best free government was that which the people thought best. The most exalted function of the politician is to teach the people what&#13;
government is best for them. In a free gov-&#13;
ernment you must talk your way to good gov-&#13;
ernment—for there are so many to persuade.&#13;
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Politics as a Profession&#13;
In order to teach, to persuade, and to con- vince, civilization has in the main two means, —writing and speaking, or, in other words, reading and listening. You may add another which has of late been rapidly developed as a means of instruction and that is seeing. An idea reaches a hundred brains through talk for every one it finds through reading. Apart from the fact that there are many more who listen to political argument than there are who read it, the personality of the speaker also counts and makes an impression that is absent from the merely written word. In the conflict between the written and the spoken word the latter has hitherto been the more powerful. | remember Mr. Gladstone at a dinner party at which | was privileged as a young Member to be present telling us that in every conflict between the platform and the press the platform invariably won. If | may presume to vary an expression used by so great an authority—the better platform invariably beats the stronger press. This proposition, if true, is full of significance at the present moment. I recently asked a parliamentary candidate the day before his poll how many electors he thought he had addressed in the aggregate. The figure he gave me represented one sixth of the electorate in that consti-&#13;
tuency. He then informed me that the local press was hostile, and refused to report his&#13;
speeches. Nevertheless, the following day found him at the top of the poll, and the can- didate who had received the whole of the press support at the bottom, with something be- tween a third and a fourth of the votes re- corded by my friend. How did that come to pass? It is worth some examination. It is no use adding up the circulation of the daily and weekly press, and drawing conclusions from that as to the influence of the news- paper in forming the political judgment of the people. | have heard many discussions as to the percentage of newspaper readers who peruse leading articles, or who read re- ports of speeches. The estimates vary, but | never heard one which placed the proportion at a very high percentage. What really happens is that a certain number of eager politicians read both. Their minds become soaked and equipped with such ideas as these articles and speeches furnish. Articles and speeches are merely the arsenals out of which the trained men are armed for their part in the struggle. They pass on these ideas to&#13;
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DAVID LLOYD GEORGE AT 30 When he was just starting his political career&#13;
the men with whom they come in contact in speeches in addresses and even more in con- versation. Those who receive them at this first remove again pass them on and so the process is continued and repeated until it reaches the multitude, and an idea becomes formidable politically when it is repeated from mouth to mouth by men who never heard a political speech. A programme is successful when a truth becomes a tag. It has then survived criticism, argument, ex- amination, amendment. It fails when the tag has fulfilled its function and gets in the way of other truths. It then becomes an embarrassment and an impediment. But in the end we are governed by the winning tag. That is the result of talk. It is the only method ever known of running a free govern- ment. The only alternative is an autocracy and that only limits the circle of talk. It substitutes the boudoir for the assembly room. The men, therefore, who despise talk, themselves talk nonsense, and mischievous nonsense at that. There are two delusions about public speaking that are still accepted by shallow observers. The first is that if a man speaks with ease, charm, and force he is&#13;
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146 The Right Honorable not much of a thinker and that he is still less of a doer. The other is that a man who hesitates in his speech and finds difficulty in expressing his thoughts possesses thoughts too deep for expression.&#13;
Before | conclude | should like to utter a word of necessary warning to the man or wo- man who possesses a natural gift of fluent and effective speech. Words come to them so readily, and voice and action have such ex- cellence that they eas- ily win their way to at- tention and admira- tion. The toil which alone enables the un- ready orator to speak at all they find unnec- essary. They therefore are tempted todosome- thing which is known as “trusting to the in- spiration of the mo- ment.” A fatal phrase upon which many promising careers have been wrecked. The surest road to in- spiration is prepara- tion. The more vol- uble you are naturally, the harder you ought to labor. A _ natural gift is a fatal snare for the indolent. I have seen many brilliant men caught and ar- rested by their own talents. I have seen many men of un- doubted courage and capacity fail for lack of industry. On theother hand | have seen many a clumsy but persevering tortoise waddle suc- cessfully to the goal. Mastery in speech can only be reached by mastery in your subject. Read all there is to be read upon it. See all you can see concerning it. Talk to any one worth talking to about it. Then the House will listen to you when you address it on that subject, if you speak tolerably. But they soon find out if you are only rolling out uninformed generalities. And may I| utter another cau- tion? Do not play a selfish game. Put your whole strength into joint stock. Don’t cal-&#13;
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The English Prime Minister was one of the most successful of the contending representatives at Paris during the Peace Conference&#13;
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David Lloyd George&#13;
culate too closely whether from your personal point of view a job is worth doing. Don't be always reckoning the attractiveness of a duty by the amount of publicity it brings you. If you always weigh effort from the point of view of its advertising value, you will soon find that however skilfully you may disguise it the general public will in the end discover what is only advertisement and what is real copy.&#13;
Members of Parlia- ment are taking their duties more and more seriously. The days of the mere voting machine are num- bered. It is not that members do not vote as faithfully for their respective parties as they did in the old days. It is that they realize that however humble their positions may be they are ex- pected to play a more active part in the ma- chinery of government than their predeces- sors did. There are two reasons for this change. One is the fact that politicians are becoming moreand more concerned with the daily life of the people. The days when the fate of Jen- kins’ ear or the ap- pointment of the La- dies of the Bedcham- ber played an absorb- ing part in political controversy are past. At this hour there are two bye-elections being fought with great passion. What is the topic which is occupying the minds of the electorate and consequently of the candidates and their speakers? The houses and homes of the people. That leads to the second reason for the seriousness with which members now apply their attention and energies to the dis- charge of their functions. It is the constant increase in the vigilance and the intensity with which the votes and actions of members are being scrutinized by the men and women&#13;
© Keystone LLOYD GEORGE AS HE WAS AT THE VERSAILLES CONFERENCE&#13;
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Politics as a Profession&#13;
whom they represent. I would, therefore, advise no young man to seek a political career unless he has a serious purpose which he in- tends seriously to pursue.&#13;
What is the test of success in politics? Office, position, or decorations? No. The only test of high success in a political life is service. | am the last man to despise or to minimize exalted office. | have held some of the greatest offices in Great Britain for 17 years and 1 am proud of it. But office, rightly regarded, is only a wider opportunity for service. Without genuine service the mem- ory of those who hold the most glittering offices soon perishes. It is he who serves that endures. Service alone embalms the memory of a departed life. Some of the best known and most honored names in the politi- cal history of this country are those of men who either never held office at all or in whose life office was but a transient, trivial, and often distracting incident. Burke, Fox, Sher- idan, Romilly, Bright, and Shaftesbury, each of them held office for a short period of their lives, but their official record is of little ac- count, and on the whole added nothing to the sum of their achievements. Their re- nown, which is immortal, was won out of office. Wilberforce, Cobden, Cobbett, Plimsoll, Dan- iel O’Connell, and all the great Irish leaders, also the men who fought for the solidarity and independence of labor in this country, never held office, but their contributions to human liberty, dignity, and happiness are so great that their names will endure for evermore. Select any one of them and tell me if you can without reference to text books, who held the office of Foreign Secretary, Home Secre- tary, or Chancellor of the Exchequer when these men were performing their greatest deeds and delivering their greatest speeches. When Burke was delivering his speeches on con- ciliation in America, which are enshrined in the literature of England and will last as long as the language is spoken or read, who then was the minister who had charge of our Colonies? When Bright delivered his famous speech about the “ beating of the wings of the Angel of Death” who was the War Minister? But in office, or out of office, your motto should be not “I get on” but “| serve.”” There are men in politics as in all other pursuits who are purely careerists, whose one idea is that of the pushful chauffeur, whose&#13;
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sole purpose seems to be to drive past the cars in front of him. The road is dirty and dangerous with their greedy and selfish am- bition. And there are men who enter politi- cal life for what they can pick in its fields, either in the way of promotion, decoration, or social distinction, but believe me these speci- mens are not typical of the whole tribe and it does not account for the most potent mo- tives, even in some of these men themselves. Not that I claim that politicians are devoid of all selfish desire. Ambition is woven into the texture of human character, and as long as its aims are honorable it stimulates the best in mankind to activity; but this I can say with conviction, that most of the men I have met in politics have given and still give wholehearted devotion to objects which are impersonal to themselves—either parties, leaders, principles, or causes. | can recall to you many cases of noble sacrifice on the part of politicians for one or other of these motives. Peel threw away power which he loved, and broke with the party in which he was brought up and to whom he owed everything—for a conviction. Lord James of Hereford refused the most splendid office in the State—an office which is the crown of a great lawyer’s career—refused it from the man to whom above all others he was personally attached and admired the most, Mr. Gladstone, be- cause he disbelieved in his Irish policy. Then there is the case of the old Irish Na- tionalist party. There were amongst them at least half a dozen men of exceptional gifts. They had every quality that made for politi- cal success. They could have aspired to the highest offices in the State. But they endured humiliation and poverty through life for the sake of their country. And there is the case of Hardie, who faced privation and disdain for the cause he served so bravely through life. To sum it all up, he who feels a call to serve his country and generation in politics is seek- ing a hard but a high vocation. There is no other career except one in which a man who is fitted for it and devotes his energies to its tasks can do more for mankind. The times are so full of peril and perplexities that the fibre of which our politicians are made is being put to the test as it has never been be- fore! The future of any nation for genera- tions will depend on the way they meet and sustain that ordeal.&#13;
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THE RUHR, THE RHINE, AND REPARATIONS&#13;
Why France Was Forced to Enter the Ruhr.&#13;
What She Intends to&#13;
Accomplish Before She Retires, and Why She Must Succeed. The Necessity for Reparations, and the Greater Necessity for Security. Marshal Foch and the Need for the Rhine as a Military Frontier&#13;
By RAYMOND RECOULY&#13;
Mr. Raymond Recouly is the editor of La Revue de France.&#13;
In 1914 he was connected with&#13;
Le Temps until he went into the army where he served on the staff of General Humbert. His articles appeared in this country under the nom de guerre Captain X. He was invited last year to&#13;
lecture at the International Conference at Williamstown.&#13;
Being acquainted with the principal&#13;
political and military figures of his own country and having made three journeys into Germany to study conditions there since the war, he is particularly equipped to write on the questions arising out of France’s move into the Rubr.—TueE Epitors.&#13;
T WOULD be difficult to find in the whole of the French Army a less military looking General than Degoutte, Commander-in- Chief of the Franco-Belgian Forces oc- cupying the Ruhr. Modest, thoughtful,&#13;
and earnest in appearance, he bears the stamp of the studious, rather than the military man, and in spite of the uniform, he might easily be mistaken for some university professor of mathematics or physics. Above all, he gives one the impression of being a man who does not make decisions lightly, but carefully re- flects upon the situation before acting.&#13;
Every time | have met him, whether during the war or after—I do so frequently—that is the impression he always gives me.&#13;
Of an observant and studious disposition, never carrying things to an extreme, but firm and inexorable when once his mind is made up, unflinching in the course of action he has mapped out, such are the qualities that were of paramount importance for the man entrusted with the Ruhr occupation.&#13;
On his return from a short stay in Diissel- dorf, one of the most prominent French finan- ciers said to me, “The only thing to do is to let Degoutte manage everything, even eco- nomic affairs. You will go a long way before you will find any one who will do it as well.”&#13;
The brilliant success of his life and his mili- tary career are all owing to his studious ap- plication and aptitude for continuous effort.&#13;
When a young subaltern in a colonial regi-&#13;
ment, he was sent to China with the occupa- tion forces. Whilst his comrades spent most of their time in getting up picnics, Degoutte thought his could be better employed in learn- ing the native tongue, and courageously set to work to tackle the difficulties of the Chi- nese language. He had already acquired a certain proficiency when the time came to leave.&#13;
During the war, he was given the command of the famous Morrocan Division. Most American soldiers will remember that Di- vision side by side with which they so often fought. So well did Degoutte acquit himself of the task entrusted to him, that he was given the command of an army corps, and sub- sequently, at the most critical time of the war, made Commander-in-Chief of an army.&#13;
Degoutte succeeded Mangin in the Rhine- land when the latter left. | frequently had occasion to see him, at his headquarters sur- rounded by his staff. 1 always found him the same; conscientious, studious, convinced that one can often do more by gentle methods, even when dealing with the Germans, than by brutal ones; fully aware that the task given him would be long and strenuous, but that by dint of perseverance we should win through.&#13;
Such is the man, the chief, to whom has been entrusted the occupation of the Ruhr. That the French Government should have chosen him is in itself a most significant fact. It is the clearest proof that France never had&#13;
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The Ruhr, the Rhine, and Reparations&#13;
any intention of employing warlike or violent methods of repression, but that, quite on the contrary, she was only bent on obtaining guarantees against a stubborn debtor. Gen- eral Degoutte is the very opposite of a violent or militaristic character.&#13;
OT only does one-hear it said in Germany, which is not very astonishing, but in England also, and America, though to a lesser degree, that the Ruhr occupation was a coup de téte on the part of the French, and that toa great extent French public opinion was against it; that it was chiefly owing to internal politics that the Poincaré Ministry decided in favor of it.&#13;
Poincaré is thus made to figure as the insti- gator of a warlike, militarist, and nationalist movement. Very little more would be needed for him to be dubbed “ Poincaré la Rubr,”’ just as he was called “Poincaré la Guerre.”’ The two accusations are on a par; they are worthy of one another. Both are derived from the same source, are the watch-word of the same people, and are instigated to serve the same purpose.&#13;
Now there is no such thing, and too much stress cannot be laid upon the fact, asa Poincaré policy on the one hand, and a French one on the other. The so-called Poincaré policy is the policy of the whole of France. \t has the great majority of the nation with it. It is the necessary and logical outcome of a wave of feeling that has become more and more pronounced throughout the country during the last few years.&#13;
What is the exact meaning of that feeling? From what has it sprung?&#13;
It is absolutely necessary to explain it to our friends abroad. When the reasons that have determined France’s present action are better known, when other countries will have at last realized that it was impossible for her to act otherwise, there is every ground for hope, that the French theory, that is backed by right as well as might, will be approved of by all.&#13;
No one can deny that both in the Armistice and the Treaty of Versailles may be found some mistakes, errors, and omissions. From that very hour when brought face to face with military disaster unequalled in the annals of history, the German staff sued for an armis- tice, then accepted all our conditions—from that moment, and during all the months that&#13;
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followed, France had two vital questions to settle with Germany—two vital questions that predominate in all her future and present deal- ings: the question of pledges for her national security, and reparations.&#13;
Both—and it would be only too easy to prove it, as events, alas, have too clearly shown—have been inadequately treated, first at the Armistice, then by the Treaty.&#13;
As mistakes have to be paid for, especially when made in connection with treaties, where huge interests are at stake, France will have to pay the penalty.&#13;
But the French—and it is a very important point—are far from being the only guilty ones. Many of those mistakes, and some of the most serious ones, were not of their making, but were forced on them by their Allies, both English and American.&#13;
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THE IMPORTANT QUESTION OF FRENCH SECURITY&#13;
O TAKE, for example, the question of&#13;
France’s security, which is quite as impor- tant if not more so than the question of repara- tions, all will remember with what insistence that greatest of technical authorities, Marshal Foch, demanded the military guard of the frontier of the Rhine, which did not, in any way, mean that the Rhineland was to cease to belong to Germany. Foch merely de- manded that Germany, that is to say, Prussia, should be divested of the power of making use of the Rhineland as a sort of stepping stone for attacking France and Belgium. He declared, and still maintains, that France’s security can only be guaranteed under such conditions. The only way to prevent a new war is for France to mount guard on the Rhine, at least strategically. It is pure folly to talk of dis- armament with a country the size of Ger- many that possesses such a prolific popula- tion, such a genius for perfect organization, and endowed with such a formidable economic system. That military frontier demanded by Foch was refused France by both England and America. After having done all in his power, Clemenceau was obliged to give in, and accept in compensation a temporary occupation of fifteen years duration, the terri- tory to be evacuated by “echelons’”’ (zones) every five years. In exchange for this great concession, England and America undertook to form a guarantee pact, which as everyone knows, fell through.&#13;
The same fate awaited the question of&#13;
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reparations, where even the most elementary sense of justice and common sense ought to have decreed that France, not forgetting Belgium, should have: been granted the pri- ority for her devastated regions.&#13;
If any claim should have been deemed legi- timate and accepted by all without the slight- est hesitation, it was surely that one. But as it was, it was refused, Lloyd George obsti- nately denying that priority. With all the astuteness of the rhetorician whose art he possesses to such perfection, he even went so far as to find the most plausible arguments for explaining his refusal. Germany, he said, ought to be made to pay for the material destruction she had caused; but she must also be made to pay for the human destruction as well, that is, the pensions of the war widows and orphans of soldiers killed at the front. On what grounds should the former take pre- cedence of the latter? Was mortar more precious than blood? Germany must pay for the whole and there should be no privileged creditor amongst the Allies.&#13;
With such arguments as these did Lloyd George combat the French claims. Clemen- ceau committed the grave mistake of giving in to him again, on this point. He should at least have insisted and obtained that Ger- many’s first payments should go to the dev- astated regions; any money remaining over could then have been reserved for the pension funds. It must be remembered that at that time there was no question about Germany’s not paying the whole. It was a foregone con- clusion that she would naturally pay all, from the devastated regions to the pensions, and heaven knows what besides.&#13;
To sum matters up briefly, mistakes were made by France for which her statesmen, her Parliament and public opinion were partly responsible, but only partly. The greatest mistakes, and one should always remember that, were committed by the Allies—their re- fusal to allow France to guard the military frontier of the Rhine and take precedence where her devastated regions were concerned.&#13;
Now let us see what happened when it be- came necessary to apply a treaty that the French were not alone in compiling, but which had, to a great extent, been forced upon them. Throwing over the Wilsonian policy and reso- lutely turning her back upon it, America de- clared that she could not countenance the application of the Treaty.&#13;
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Raymond Recouly&#13;
What was England’s attitude, or rather the attitude of Lloyd George, who, after the war, had become the all-powerful master of the British Empire, a dictator such as England had not known since the day of Cromwell? In the full heat of victory, Lloyd George forced the election cf a Parliament wholly de- voted to him. No sooner had he signed the Treaty of Versailles, which was immediately executed, in regard to England’s interests, German colonies, and the German fleet, than he became aware that the Treaty was in- applicable and impossible to execute as re- gards France’s interests. One cannot help questioning whether he was not fully aware of the fact even during the negotiations, or whether he really only arrived at that con- clusion afterward.&#13;
1 know Lloyd George personally; | have been an interested spectator of his career for the last seventeen years. With the keenest interest | have noted the gradual expansion and evolution of that curious personality. One of the chief features of his character is his permiability, if one may use such a word, to financial influence. One could quote many examples of it: here is a very conclusive one. From the very outset of the tragic week pre- ceding hostilities in July, 1914, Lloyd George had been an earnest partisan of England’s immediate intervention by France’s side. That attitude coincided with that of three years before in 1911, over the Agadir affair. Now just at that most critical point in the negotiations, when it was perhaps still possible to have maintained Peace, had England shown a more determined and threatening front to Germany, an important delegation of fi- nanciers from the city, headed by Lord X, one of the most prominent personages of the Brit- ish financial world, went to see Lloyd George, who was then Chancellor of the Exchequer. Backing up their arguments by every possible means, they showed the Chancellor how very much it was to England’s interest not to in- tervene in the conflict in the event of hostili- ties breaking out, but on the contrary to wait and see and be content with marking the blows. Thus, according to him, while the other nations of Europe would be ruined, England would maintain all her prosperity. She would become Europe’s banker. Far from being in any way diminished, her eco- nomic situation would, on the contrary, be far more prosperous.&#13;
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The Ruhr, the Rhine, and Reparations&#13;
When one hears such arguments, one is astonished to see how short-sighted, how fool- ish, and to say the least of it, how stupid, sometimes, what is called a great financier can be! But Lloyd George was swayed by these arguments, becoming as violently op- posed to intervention, as he had previously been all in favor of it. He made that clear at the very next meeting of the British Cabinet, which then met twice a day. His influence being already very considerable, and the Cabi- net itself very divided over the matter, he was to a great extent responsible for the continua- tion of that attitude of expectancy and re- serve, that marked the British Government’s policy up to the very last moment, resulting in letting the Germans think that they could dare all, since England would not intervene.&#13;
| have the story from Paul Cambon, who was at the time French Ambassador in London, which answers for its veracity.&#13;
It was the influence of financiers, especially of the international ones, whose chief pre- occupation was the rapid economic recovery of Germany, and her non-payment of repara- tions, that largely influenced Lloyd George during the negotiations of the Treaty of Ver- sailles. To that influence may be attributed, to a_ certain extent, the bitter hostility al- most amounting to hatred, that he showed on every possible occasion toward Poland. ‘Theappointment of Lord d’ Abernon, formerly Sir Edgar Vincent, as British Ambassador to Berlin, can also be traced to that influence.&#13;
Abernon once at Berlin, the linking up of the great industries, German finance, and cer- tain English financiers, was a foregone con- clusion. Lloyd George became more and more convinced that England’s prosperity, the rapid solving of the unemployed question, were dependent upon Germany’s speedy re- covery. Hence, the stabilization of French finance, the reconstruction of the devastated regions became quite a secondary or even third rate consideration with him.&#13;
GERMAN CONCLUSIONS&#13;
&amp; MAY easily be imagined, the Germans were not slow to perceive that. They were moreover, admirably informed of the Brit- ish Government’s intentions, by its representa- tive in Berlin. They concluded that, France being tied by the hands, they could, without risks, do with her as they liked. They made the most of that fact. Each time that France&#13;
151&#13;
seemed to be exasperated, each time she threatened to resort to action, Lloyd George managed to restrain her. Germany in ex- change for the very marked concessions ac- corded her, the constant reduction of her debt, facilities for payment, made fresh prom- ises, Which shared the same fate as her pre- vious ones. They were never fulfilled.&#13;
As time went on, Germany was able to congratulate herself on her chances of eluding the promises wrung from her. The Treaty of Versailles was thus slowly rent limb from lib, until only the skeleton remained. Far- seeing people in France awoke gradually to that fact. France is not composed only of idiots. Each one of us knew that Germany’s possibilities of paying were becoming every day less. Each successive Conference spelt a further defeat, a further capitulation and sacrifice on our part.&#13;
Under these circumstances, what was to be done?&#13;
Should we continue thus, with the perspec- tive of bankruptcy becoming every day nearer? Or else, showing a determined front, seize Germany by the throat and compel her to carry out her promises?&#13;
The time had come when one or the other line of conduct had to be followed without any further shilly-shallying. The former had brought France nothing but the certainty of bankruptcy. The latter, on the other hand, held out some chance of success. It was to the latter that the country adhered, to a man. In acting as he did, Poincaré merely carried out the will of the whole nation.&#13;
Such is, roughly speaking, the feeling of the French people. But it is very important to show that, contrary to what many English think, the French are convinced that if Ger- many does not pay, it is not because she can- not, but she does not want to. Without having made a profound study of German fi- nance, nine tenths of the French see clearly a certain number of facts which show the ill will, the bad faith of Germany. To cite but one or two, the fact of the German Gov- ernment being in the hands of the great in- dustrial kings, who force it to do as they want; their failure to acquit the taxes they ought to pay, more particularly the famous coal rates.&#13;
The head-strong financial policy followed by the German Government, in constantly increasing its expenditures without in any way increasing its revenues.&#13;
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The huge sums that ought in common jus- tice to have gone to the reparations fund that, without the slightest regard to expense, the German Government voluntarily squanders on the reconstruction of the whole of its economic system: the rebuilding of its fleet in the space of a few years, the remaking of canals, railways, telephone lines, etc.&#13;
The utter insufficiency of direct and par- ticularly indirect taxation in Germany, which is far lower than in France and England.&#13;
There is not a Frenchman living who is not perfectly well aware of all that. Every for- eigner, whether English, American, Dutch, or Spanish, must surely know it too.&#13;
Reduced to its simplest expression, the prob- lem is nothing like so formidable as it at first appears. It is easy to state thus: Who is re- sponsible for the terrible destructions wrought in France and Belgium during the war?&#13;
Is it France, or Germany, who ought to pay?&#13;
There can be but one reply to that question.&#13;
Everyone is agreed that Germany ought to be made to pay within possible limits. Now how can any sane person believe that the re- sources of that prosperous country have been drained to the end by the very small contri- butions in money and goods it has paid up to now? It is therefore an undisputed fact that she can pay more. As she showed every sign of never intending to pay, France had to resort to the only means in her power of mak- ing her: the use of force, the seizing of a wonderfully rich country, upon whose wealth the whole of Germany relies, to be held as a security.&#13;
To those who criticize her, who say: “That will do no good; the occupying of the Ruhr will bring you no substantial profits, but only means increased worry and expendi- ture; the Germans will not pay you any more than before,” the French need only reply,“ We shall see. Let us first of all give the thing a trial. We have been forced to try the ex- periment. The interests we have on hand are far too tremendous for us to relinquish what we hold. We are absolutely certain that the occupation of the Ruhr gives us the whip hand over Germany, and affords us a means of bringing pressure to bear, that will finally oblige her to pay.”&#13;
Such are the profound reasons of the oc- cupation of the Ruhr. Such was the public state of mind that rendered that occupation necessary.&#13;
Raymond Recouly&#13;
As regards the military method of the operation, and the manner in which it was carried out by. the French Staff, the whole world is agreed that nothing could have been more ably handled.&#13;
Reverse matters and suppose for a moment that a German army should have had to carry out a similar operation in France or Belgium; that it had met with the opposition of the French or Belgian officials. It is highly prob- able, not to say certain, that it would have im- mediately resorted to violent methods of re- pression. It would have brought rifles and machine guns into play, and its victims could have been counted by hundreds!&#13;
ECONOMIC MISTAKES&#13;
F THE operation, viewed from a military point of view, may be considered faultless, the same cannot be said from an economic one. It cannot be denied that in that respect things had been insufficiently prepared, and mis- takes made. The French Information Ser- vices were far from being up to the mark.&#13;
An army of engineers had been sent out at the same time as the troops, and they believed they had only to appear at Essen for the Ger- man manufacturers to open wide their fac- tories, even their safes, immediately obey their requisition orders, and deliver up the amount of coal demanded.&#13;
To have seriously believed that, for one moment, shows a certain simple-mindedness on the part of these engineers, the German industrials being in fact the all-powerful masters of Germany. They are fully aware that if Germany is forced to pay for repara- tions, the burden will fall heavily upon them, for it is they who will have to make the first payments, as they are the only people in the country possessing wealth. They have paid next to nothing up to now, and although the fall in the mark has ruined part of Germany, it has on the contrary enriched them, al- lowing them to double their exportations, and accumulate abroad, thanks to the sale of their produce in Holland, Scandinavia, England, and America, huge credits to their accounts in foreign money. They have but one wish: namely, for things to go on as they are, and to pay nothing.&#13;
Mr. Cuno’s government is entirely in their hands. They pull the strings, and the puppets obey. Docile to their orders, the Berlin Gov- ernment advised violent resistance, which at&#13;
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The Ruhr, the Rhine, and Reparations 153&#13;
times almost assumed the aspect of real war- fare.&#13;
Berlin’s warlike instructions proauced less effect upon the working population, especially amongst the miners, the majority of whom refused to go on strike, and continued working.&#13;
The French were obliged, owing to the at- titude of the German Government, to modify somewhat their mode of procedure. There was no longer any question of collaboration between the French and German authorities, and it became necessary to dismiss the more rebellious of the functionaries, to tighten the strings generally, bringing more pressure to bear by isolating the Ruhr district, and for- bidding the exportation of coal and manu- factured goods; above all by taking over the management of the railways.&#13;
FRANCE’S OBJECTS&#13;
HEN France decided upon the occupa-&#13;
tion of the Ruhr she had two objects in view: firstly, the exploitation of that region, which is one of the richest parts of the world, so as to draw from it some revenues for her reparations budget.&#13;
Secondly, as a means of energetic pressure over the German Government, so as to force it to give in and pay.&#13;
It was impossible to realize the first of these two objects, at least at the beginning, without the collaboration of French and Germans. As that hoped-for collaboration utterly failed, other means of pressure had to be employed.&#13;
But, as things progressed by mere force of circumstances, the French found themselves obliged to try and exploit by themselves, and for their own benefit, the riches of the Ruhr, more especially the coal mines.&#13;
The amount of coal that, according to the Treaty of Versailles, the Germans ought to deliver to France, and which they have failed to deliver for some months past, represents a heavy loss. It has made itself felt more par- ticularly in the metallurgical factories in the eastern provinces and Lorraine, causing an almost complete cessation of work. For these establishments are dependant on the Ruhr for the coke they require, and which it is practically impossible for them to procure elsewhere. The French were thus compelled to seize the coke in the mines and send it to Belgium and France.&#13;
Their chief efforts were turned toward the railways. That is where they met with&#13;
the most violent resistance. The Ruhr dis- trict is particularly rich in railways which cross and recross each other, forming an al- most inextricable puzzle. It became neces- sary to unravel the skein, thread by thread so to speak, which was no easy task. The Germans, as was to be expected, did all in their power to make it still more difficult. They damaged the switches and tampered with the signals, rendered the engines use- less, etc., etc.&#13;
In the face of this resistance the French brought over some 10,000 railway men from France, who under able chiefs valiantly set to work to repair all. Up to the present time the results obtained have been satisfactory.&#13;
There is no doubt that Germany is a very remarkable country, but she has one great defect, that of underestimating the value of her enemies, whether French, English, or American. She always looks upon them as much weaker or much more stupid than they really are!&#13;
The war has failed to cure them of this defect. For scarcely had the French entered the Ruhr, than those at the head in Berlin were convinced that they would never be able to extricate themselves from the thousand difficulties that were constantly cropping up in their path; that they would be incapable of working the railways, telegraph and postal services, etc. The German Government’s open resistance sprang from no other cause. That same government likewise felt quite sure that England and America would either directly or indirectly intervene on their be- half. All those hopes have been disappointed.&#13;
With the growth of the German opposition, the French were forced to retaliate to prevent its assuming still greater proportions. It was like a duel in which each rival strives to deal heavier blows each time. The taking over of the railways in the Rhineland and the Ruhr by a combined Franco-Belgian administra- tion, constitutes one of the most forcible and efficacious acts the French Government has yet taken.&#13;
These railways represent about 9 per cent. of the total of the German railroads. The ratio of cost for their exploitation, as com- pared with the rest of the German railways amounts to about 18 per cent. If one con- siders the freight traffic, the proportion would be still higher, namely, 36 per cent. The passenger traffic is about the same.&#13;
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154&#13;
Raymond&#13;
One cannot study these figures too atten- tively, for they are most significant. Above all, one should note their progressive augmen- tation.&#13;
To sum it up, the Westphalian-Rhenish rail- ways account, as far as the traffic is concerned, for more than a third of the total of the German railways. Now, before the war, these rail- ways produced about a billion gold marks profit, representing 5 per cent. interest on the estimated capital. The combined railways of the Rhineland and Ruhr districts ought there- fore to yield an annual profit of about 400 million gold marks if a competent and well organized administration reduced the ex- penditure by dismissing a certain number of useless workers, increasing on the other hand its receipts by raising the railway fares for both freight and passenger trains.&#13;
The German Government’s policy since the Armistice has been to increase the deficit of its railway companies to an astounding de- gree. It acted thus from double motives of weakness and bad faith. In spite of having lost Alsace, Lorraine, and Upper Silesia, it sought to pander to the Socialists by increas- ing by about 4o per cent. the number of rail- waymen already employed. Above all, it aimed at showing that the railways, instead of yielding profits were costing money, so as to prevent the Allies from desiring to seize them as securities. Consequently, traveling rates, in spite of the fall of the mark, were ridiculously low.&#13;
Now, if the Rhenish railway is properly run, it might yield certain profits—three or four hundred million gold marks—which would help toward floating a loan whose proceeds could go to the reparations fund.&#13;
Having thus organized the railways, with a Franco-Belgian Staff at the head, and more and more Rhenish workmen, the French have turned their attention toward organizing the coal transportation, especially coke. The problem, though difficult, is not impossible.&#13;
II]&#13;
UCH is the brief outline of the measures that France has had to take since her troops entered the Ruhr. This policy was adopted from a double point of view: the ex- ploiting of the Westphalian-Rhenish security: and as a means of pressure to force Germany to capitulate and accept a reasonable settle- ment of the reparations question.&#13;
Recouly&#13;
The occupation of the Ruhr is only a means to an end: it is not an end in itself. There is not a single far-sighted Frenchman who for a moment thinks of annexing this country. As soon as the two vital questions unfortu- nately left unsolved by the Treaty of Ver- sailles shall have been settled, the French troops will evacuate the Ruhr, and French public opinion will heartily rejoice at their departure.&#13;
What are those two vital questions? or, in other words, what are the two great results France is hoping to derive from her occupa- tion of the Ruhr?&#13;
France has now the right and duty to settle with Germany, first the reparations question, second, the question of her own se- curity.&#13;
Let us examine the aspect of the repara- tions problem, at the beginning of the year 1923.&#13;
The grcat majority of French people are inclined to treat the matter with a certain moderation from a pure business point of view, taking into account among other im- portant events the fall of the mark. In 1921 the Conference of London had drawn up a list of the payments to be effected by&#13;
Germany. But that list is not absolutely unchangeable. It is open to some modifica- tions.&#13;
In other words, the French are quite will- ing to discuss matters with the Germans, pro- vided the latter put forth an acceptable proposition.&#13;
Let us now examine Germany’s possibili- ties of paying at the present time.&#13;
First of all, there are the payments in kind, especially coal. It must be remembered that it is chiefly through Germany’s failure to fulfill her promises about the deliveries in coal, that the occupation of the Ruhr was decided upon.&#13;
Germany is very rich in coal. France, partly through the former’s fault, is very badly off. The war, by the wanton destruc- tion of the French mines by the German armies, and the acquisition of the metal- lurgical industries of Lorraine, has consider- ably increased her deficit in combustibles, more especially in coke. France, in that re- spect, is in a really critical position.&#13;
She was, of course, obliged to re-annex the Lorraine provinces which were originally French. Now, the Germans, so as to utilize&#13;
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The Ruhr, the Rhine, and Reparations 155&#13;
the iron mines of Lorraine which are in great abundance, had, especially during the last twenty years, built great numbers of im- mense factories exclusively worked by coke from the Ruhr.&#13;
France having now become the possessor of these factories, after having previously bought out the German interests, thus finds herself at the head of a vast iron trade. Instead of the 5 million tons of pig-iron she produced before the war she now produces 11 million tons, or more than double the quantity.&#13;
Now, the consumption of pig-iron in France before the war was 4,500,000 tons; it might be increased another 1,500,000 tons, thus reaching 6 million tons, which according to all experts, would be the maximum.&#13;
There remain 5 million tons that France is absolutely obliged to export. But she can only sell it abroad and find buyers on the world’s market on condition she is able to produce it very cheaply, which implies that she must obtain the coke necessary for its production, amounting to some 13 million tons, at a very cheap rate. Now, France can count on extracting 6 millions of that coke at home. She therefore lacks 7 millions that she can obtain only from Germany, that is to say, from the Ruhr.&#13;
THE OUTCOME OF A COAL SHORTAGE&#13;
UCH is, briefly speaking, the situation of the French factories in Lorraine. Should those factories be unable to count on getting the 7 million tons of coke necessary to their working, there is only one thing for them to do, namely, to shut down. If they shut down it means thousands of workmen being thrown out of work, the failure of powerful industrial organizations, bringing in its wake all sorts of social and economic disaster.&#13;
Those responsible for the Treaty of Ver- sailles made but inadequate provision for the settling of that very grave question. Whether in dealing with reparations or the question of France’s security, the least that can be said is that those responsible seemed bent on adopt- ing temporary and half measures, instead of clear and definite solutions. Instead of settling those difficulties once and for all, they seemed to have but one idea, to post- pone them.&#13;
The deliveries in German coke were made in very insufficient quantities and for too&#13;
short a period. The French negotiators were the victims of a popular belief current at the time, namely, that France, disposing of enor- mous quantities of iron ore, would be able to exchange it against German coke from the Ruhr.&#13;
That was a most fatal mistake. Iron can be found almost anywhere. Germany can get it from other countries besides France— from Sweden, from Spain. That is precisely what she has done since the occupation of the Ruhr.&#13;
On the other hand few countries possess coal. If the French manufacturers do not find any in the Ruhr, it will be almost im- possible for them to procure it elsewhere at reasonable prices.&#13;
One might borrow the English saying ap- plied to the buyer and seller, and say, “Ore is the slave, and coal the king.”&#13;
These deliveries in coke from the Ruhr can and ought to help Germany acquit part of her debt toward France.&#13;
The Germans cannot plead penury in that respect, and pretend they have no coke. They have such quantities of it that they don’t know what to do with it. For years they have been in the habit of selling it to the Lorraine factories. Instead of selling it now, they will have to give it. That is just where the shoe pinches.&#13;
When they are asked for money they say they have none. When they are asked for coal, which they possess in great abundance, they say: “We are quite willing to sell it, but we refuse to give it.” It is to cure them of that lack of straight dealing amounting to dishonesty that the Ruhr has been taken over.&#13;
Apart from the deliveries in coal, the reve- nues of the Westphalian-Rhenish railways can supply an annual contribution toward an im- portant loan. So will the taxation on coal, manufactured goods, etc.&#13;
When people say that Germany is poor and cannot pay anything, they are entirely wrong. Germany’s tremendous economic system, her natural riches, her prolific working classes, represent considerable sources of national wealth.&#13;
How can one then pretend that a country with more than 60 million inhabitants, that the war has completely spared, whose export trade is enormous, who since the war, has found the means of reconstructing a formid- able merchant fleet, cannot contribute to the&#13;
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reconstruction of the provinces her armies wantonly destroyed, when her neighbor, France, with its 40 million inhabitants, whose richest provinces have been wrecked, possess- ing but little coal but small industries, should be obliged from its own feeble resources to bear the huge burden of that reconstruction? If it were so, it would be France who would become bankrupt, and Germany, who, in a few years, would be in a most enviable situa- tion.&#13;
IV&#13;
O HER the question of France’s security is quite as important as, if not more so than that of reparations.&#13;
For of what use would it be to France to receive all the money from Germany that she has the right to expect, for the restoring of her shattered provinces in the east, if her frontiers remain vulnerable, if in ten, twenty, or thirty years a new war is destined to ravage her population and lay waste her land? As long as this all-imporant question shall not have received the final, and not merely pro- visional, solution it merits, there cannot be any talk of a real peace between France and Germany and hence in Europe.&#13;
The actual Franco-German crisis provoked by the unavoidable occupation of the Ruhr, must see the solving of that problem. The matter of our security cannot under any cir- cumstances be relegated to the background.&#13;
The Treaty of Versailles, unfortunately, took no steps to settle that point. It needs re- discussing, not only with the Germans, but also with the Allies. The guarantee pact having fallen through, what was promised France never having been given her, it is her manifest right and duty to demand com- pensation.&#13;
No one can dispute her right to do so. Now, how is it possible to ensure her safety beside a country like Germany, that is far more densely populated and enjoys a formid- able economic position—a country easily led when those at the head shall preach violence and revenge? Such is the problem confront- ing France to-day. None other is as tragic. Nothing is to be gained by shirking, still less by ignoring it. If the French fail to settle the matter now, they are lost.&#13;
| was talking it over with Marshall Foch the other day. Nobody can deny that Foch is upon all these matters the greatest living&#13;
Raymond Recouly&#13;
authority. His opinion has never wavered over what should be done. It is essential to publish it abroad again to-day, for it can never be too often repeated.&#13;
France, according to the Marshal, cannot in any way stake her own security upon the fact of Germany’s disarmament, whether real or fictitious. Her neighbor’s weakness, even supposing it to exist, would not in any way contribute to her own strength.&#13;
Any security based on such a foundation would be purely illusion.&#13;
The only real guarantee for France and Belgium, to prevent Germany from attacking them, or if attacked, affording them a safe means of self-defence, is to hold militarily the banks of the Rhine. It is the only safe- guard they possess. The Rhine can, more- over, be guarded by very small contingents, provided, naturally, that the Rhineland be de-prussianized, if one may use such a term, so as to prevent Prussian agents, or orders from Berlin, from inciting the inhabitants to attack the troops in occupation. In the event of war breaking out, victory would go to the one who would be the first to seize the passages of the Rhine. So as to be sure of being the first, common prudence dictates that France should hold them.&#13;
Such is, in a few words, Foch’s plain opinion.&#13;
Such are the military and technical argu- ments that France must bring forward promi- nently! Having stated these arguments— they ought to be the watch-word of every Frenchman—it behooves the statesmen, poli- ticians, and diplomats to look for and find the necessary solution. That solution is not im- possible to find. One might propose, for instance, the neutralization of the Rhineland, under perhaps the control of an international body.&#13;
Reparations and security, such are the two foremost questions that the future negotiators will have to discuss, keeping within the limits of the Treaty of Versailles, no doubt, but with the firm determination to transform into definite measures what the Treaty has only half solved.&#13;
It is by no means an easy task. But it is absolutely necessary for it to be tackled, and brought to a satisfactory and durable solu- tion. If France makes a mistake this time, she will not be able to lay the blame on her English or American allies. She will only have herself to thank for it.&#13;
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WHY THE MIDDLE WEST WENT RADICAL I&#13;
Reasons Back of the Sudden Shift to Radicalism in the Missouri Valley. How the Farm Bloc Has Grown in Strength. The Breaking of Political Lines. La Folletism in Wisconsin. Radicalism in Minnesota, lowa, Kansas, and Ne- braska. The Political Situation in North Dakota, Where the Movement Began&#13;
By CHESTER H. ROWELL&#13;
Tbe author of this article, Chester H. Rowell, is one of the best-known newspapermen of the Pacific Coast. When he sold the Fresno Republican, three years ago, he had made that paper, in an inland city of California, a powerful organ of public opinion throughout the state, and himself a leader in the national councils of the Republican party. He had been chairman of the Republican State Convention of California, a member of the National Committee of the Republican party, and a founder of the Progressive party. Since that time he has been a member of the United States Ship- ping Board and of the California State Railroad Commission. Throughout his youth and young manbood, his father was a member of Congress from Illinois, and in that period he made the close personal acquaintance of all the leading Representatives and Senators of the period of Senators Blaine, Hoar, Vest, and Morgan. In other words, politics has been a lifelong study under the most favorable conditions.&#13;
Along with this active experience of politics has gone an unusual development as a scholar. Educated at the universities of Michigan, Halle, Berlin, Paris, and Rome, be acquired a reading knowledge of thirteen languages, a speaking knowledge of seven, and sufficient fluency to make political speeches in four. His university studies equipped him to practise either law or medicine, but he chose a newspaper career and achieved distinction as an editor, and was for several years a director of the Associated Press. He is also a Regent of the University of California. To many thousands of Westerners and to many hundreds of political leaders of the East, he is known as one of the most versatile and sagacious minds in public life—Tue Epirors.&#13;
HEN Charles E. Hughes, Republican candidate for President, was about start- ing on his ill-fated tour to the Pacific Coast, in 1916, a meeting of the national advisory committee was held in Chicago to discuss the risks of The voice of the Eternal Yesterday is still the trip. Raymond Robins, representing the potent in politics, but no longer exclusively moderns, pointed out that the region into so. The very organization, for instance, which the campaign was thus being launched which ignored the warnings of the progressive unprepared was the one which was likely to Far West in 1916 is now acutely interested in&#13;
tion of the once-true slogan: “If we carry” and the rest. The Ewig-Gestrigen could not adjust themselves to the present tense. So the trip was taken—with results which perhaps determined the whole future course of mankind.&#13;
prove decisive of the whole result. “Oh, no,” droned a slow voice speaking from the Old Guard. “If we carry New York, Ohio, and Indiana, we will win the election.” “That was true once,” said Robins, “ but it is no longer so”—and explained the changed conditions. But to all his explaining he could get no response except the automatic repeti-&#13;
the new political focal point of the radical Middle Northwest, where last year’s agrarian uprising has already given the balance of power in Congress to this formerly negligible section. The eyes of every political strategist are now turned on these states, radiating from North Dakota, where the embattled farmers have upset all calculations.&#13;
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For these farmers have done really startling things. They have not merely elected a lot of new Senators who flout the ancient fetiches. They have abolished the party system in two states; they have extinguished the Demo- cratic party in one state and made it negligible in another; they have absorbed the Republi- can party into its radical faction in some states and defeated it in others, sometimes with Democratic and sometimes with third-party candidates. They have tried some weird governmental experiments and proposed oth- ers, and have scared even their conservative opponents into trying to forestall them with another radicalism of their own. And they now threaten to substitute bloc for party gov- ernment in Congress. Their five most radical Senators, even without any help from the milder progressives, are now able to swing the balance between Republican and Demo- cratic control in the Senate, and they stand notoriously ready to use this power. It is mathematically possible—almost probable— that they may wield the same balance of power in the popular and electoral vote of 1924. A small minority in the Senate, and certainly nowhere near a majority of the whole people, they can win no elections, but by their present tactics they may easily control them.&#13;
For these reasons a study of conditions in this group of states is certainly interesting and may prove illuminating. The story is much too long for one article, and the present instalment must be confined mostly to general considerations. It is hoped to follow it with more particular accounts of the concrete hap- penings in individual states.&#13;
The states concerned are primarily North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Nebraska, lowa, and, perhaps, Kansas, with some rami- fications into Idaho, Montana, Colorado, and South Dakota. In these states, in 1922, the political reaction of that year culminated. Measured in terms of the old politics the re- sult was confused. In Wisconsin and lowa the victory was formally Republican; in Kansas, Democratic; in Nebraska, both Re- publican and Democratic, and in Minnesota and North Dakota neither Republican nor Democratic. But the real contest in every case was between Radicals and Conservatives, with the old parties merely tools or shibbo- leths. Even North Dakota, which had re- called its radical governor, Lynn J. Frazier, only the year before, in 1921, now defeated its&#13;
Chester H. Rowell&#13;
veteran Senator, Porter J. McCumber, for twenty-four years a Senate leader, who had just attained to the all-powerful chairmanship of the Senate Finance Committee, and elected in his place the very man whom it had just ejected from the governorship. In Wiscon- sin Senator Robert M. LaFollette, at the close of the term during which he had narrowly es- caped expulsion from the Senate and had been publicly repudiated by his former supporters in the State University faculty and else- where, was now triumphantly reélected and carried with him his candidate for governor, John J. Blaine, and nearly the entire state government. In Minnesota, Senator Frank B. Kellogg, famous as “Roosevelt’s trust- buster,” great lawyer and outstanding Sen- ator, was defeated by Hendrick Shipstead, a dentist hitherto unknown outside of the state, running on a Farmer-Labor third- party ticket. In these two states the Demo- cratic party disappeared, in Wisconsin ab- solutely, and in Minnesota—in spite of the winning personality of its candidate, Mrs. Ole Olson—substantially. In lowa, Senator Brookhart, “cowhide radical’’ distanced the whole field of conservatives and progressives and stamped his famous boots to the Senate floor. In Nebraska R. B. Howell, Radical Republican, succeeded Gilbert M. Hitchcock, Conservative Democrat, in the Senate, and “Brother Charles” Bryan, radical Democrat, succeeded S. R. McKelvie, conservative Re- publican, as Governor. In Kansas there was no Senatorial election, but Jonathan M. Davis, Radical Farmer Democrat, succeeded Henry J. Allen, Republican, of industrial court fame, as Governor. Significant radical votes were also cast in South Dakota, Idaho, Washington, and Montana, but without pro- ducing any direct political transformation.&#13;
THE PRIMARY LAW-IN WISCONSIN&#13;
OTHING is more interesting to the stu- dent of the mechanics of government than the effect of the varying electoral tools with which this radical reaction had to work, in the different states, in the political form of the reaction itself.&#13;
In Wisconsin the combination of a unique personality with a primary law deliberately calculated to that end has resulted in the ex- tinction not only of the Democratic party, but of the party system itself. There is only one party in Wisconsin, and that is not a&#13;
 &#13;
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Middle West Went Radical&#13;
 &#13;
WHY WHEAT FARMERS OFTEN TURN RADICAL When this beautiful wheat farm is working at its best it may turn out a wonderful crop, which in turn may lose&#13;
the farmer money because of conditions over which he has no control. farmer has between crops, give him both something to think about and the time to think. is wrong, and is affected by the radical beliefs of the transient laborers who help him with his work.&#13;
political condition that originated in North Dakota and has spread over the Middle West&#13;
party, though it has succeeded to the Re- publican name and organization. The Demo- cratic party is legally as well as practically dead, not having received enough votes to qualify for a place in the ballot. Even the Socialist party obtained a special dispensation from its national organization to reverse all Socialist precedent and form a partial merger with LaFollette Republicanism. The Non- Partisan League has members and an office in Wisconsin, but as a political force it is merged indistinguishably in La Follettism. The Regular Republicans form, in unison with the Regular Democrats, a vociferous faction or bloc, but they accept defeat in the primary and have not ventured to form a fu- sion third party. All political streams, as soon as they reach Wisconsin, are lost in the LaFollette ocean. In any sense which would be understood as such elsewhere, there are no parties in Wisconsin.&#13;
This situation is due, of course, largely to the overshadowing personality of Robert M. LaFollette, but it is also a by-product of the primary law which he devised. In Wisconsin&#13;
This fact, and the ample spare time the wheat He realizes that something The result is the&#13;
all offices, state and local, are legally partisan, with the exception of county offices in Mil-&#13;
waukee County. Nominations for them are made at party primaries. But there are no party requirements for voting at those pri- maries. The only limit is on the candidate; not on the voter. A candidate may run for the nomination of only one party, but this need not be his own. If a Democrat, there- fore, aspires to be sheriff of a Republican county, he runs for the Republican nomina- tion, and all his Democratic friends vote in the Republican primary to give him that nomination. Instances are given of candi- dates campaigning their districts for the Dem- ocratic nominee for President while themselves running for the Republican nomination to the legislature. On the voter, on the other hand, there is no restriction at all. Any voter may vote secretly in the primary of any party. The consequence is, of course, that nearly all the votes are cast in the Republican pri- mary, where the principal contests are. Other nominations, if made, are perfunctory. The Radical and Conservative blocs fight it out&#13;
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Chester H. Rowell&#13;
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WHY THE WHEAT FARMER HAS TIME—&#13;
Few crops require so little labor to raise as wheat.&#13;
“Drills” such as this seed many acres a&#13;
day, and once wheat is planted it requires almost no attention until it is ready for the binder—&#13;
in the Republican primary, with Democratic and Socialist votes as weapons, and whoever wins the nomination thereby acquires the sacred zgis of Republican “regularity.” Ac- tually, of course, it means that Wisconsin has abolished parties by the very law which makes all offices partisan.&#13;
In Minnesota, besides the absence of an&#13;
overshadowing, personality, there was also a different primary law. Nearly all Minne- sota offices, including members of the legis-&#13;
lature, are non-partisan. Party nominations are made only for Governor, Senator, and Representative in Congress. Party require- ments, to vote for these party nominations, are somewhat stricter on the voter and much stricter on the candidate than in Wisconsin. Not only may the candidate run for the nomination of only one party, but it must be his own party, and he must take an iron-clad oath that he voted for a majority of its candi- dates at the last election. This requirement shut out some aspirants for Republican nomi- nations to Congress in 1914 who had been party Progressives in 1912. In still further effort to tighten party lines on the candidates, the Minnesota Old Guard, in 1918, procured the adoption of a law authorizing pre-primary indorsing conventions. The scheme of course defeated itself. The radical Non-Partisan League group, who had been functioning under the pure direct primary as a faction of the Republican party, promptly left the party when they found a pre-primary convention&#13;
packed against them, and started a third party of their own. It was really the Non- Partisan League, but it adopted the name of the Farmer-Labor party, which had qualified at the previous election for a place on the ballot. In the election the Democrats were distanced, and disappeared as an appreciable factor in Minnesota. The new Radical party won the Senatorship and, even with a weak candidate, barely lost the governorship, while the Republican party took second place. So, one sort of a primary law, plus a dominant personality, abolished the Democratic party in Wisconsin and absorbed: the Republican party into its radical wing, while another sort of a primary law, minus that personality, also eliminated the Democratic party in Minne- sota, but substituted for it a new Radical party, which became the dominant power. Nebraska was the best illustration of the Non-Partisan League’s policy of “boring in” to both old parties. The result was the election of a Radical Republican as Senator and a Radical Democrat as Governor, both with the indorsement of the League, though neither was its direct product. Ever since 1906, in spite of the Bryan-Hitchcock feud, there has been a real Democratic party in Ne- braska, sometimes victorious and the rest of the time a strong minority. The state has a real direct primary law, with the party re- quirements on the voter rather than on the candidate. As elsewhere, this had tended to keep both parties alive, though in Nebraska&#13;
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Why the Middle&#13;
West Went Radical&#13;
 &#13;
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—TO THINK ABOUT HIS TROUBLES&#13;
—which cuts it and binds it into bundles almost as rapidly asit is planted. A few days later a threshing out- fit moves in and in surprisingly short time great stacks of straw are piled up and the wheat is in an elevator&#13;
it also enables the radical “borers in” to cap- ture both.&#13;
Kansas, still further from the centre of dis- turbance, comes also nearer to the traditional use of party machinery. There was no Sena- torial election in 1922, but in the election for Governor the dissatisfied voters simply voted the Democratic ticket, in a usually Republican state. Under the Kansas primary law also the partisan requirements are on the voter rather than on the candidate, and the nomi- nations for most offices are made at party primaries. The Republican and Democratic parties are the established channels of po- litical activity, for state and local as well as for national purposes, and while there is much Radicalism in this traditional home of Popu- lism, and the Non-Partisan League has a considerable membership and a much larger influence, there is no tendency toward a third party.&#13;
In Iowa also the party traditionalist is on familiar ground. Here, too, he has the Re- publican and Democratic parties to deal with, and it is the habit of the people, when they are dissatisfied with one of these parties to vote for the other—all but the Conservatives, who vote the Republican ticket straight, even when it is radical. In lowa, too, an attempt to manipulate the primary mechanism to pre- serve party regularity defeated its purpose. lowa has a “35 per cent. law,” under which if no candidate at a party primary receives 35 per cent. of all the votes cast, there is no nomi-&#13;
nation and the choice is made by a party convention. In the hope, therefore, of throw- ing the nomination into the convention, which they were confident they could control, the Old Guard promoted a whole field of candi- dates, including one outstanding progressive, to divide the vote. The effect, instead, was to concentrate the whole protest vote on the radical candidate, Smith Brookhart, who re- ceived 40 per cent. of all the votes and was nominated. Then the old forces of party reg- ularity came into operation. With every candidate, from Governor down, interested in the “straight ticket’’ tradition, they all had to pretend to be for Brookhart and he was elected by the resultant combination of his own radicals with the automatic Repub- lican vote.&#13;
Returning now from these relatively orthodox outlying states to North Da- kota, the original centre of the whole distur- bance, we find again a situation in which the party system, though not yet extinct, has become meaningless, and is in process of abo- lition by formal law. The paradox is that it is the non-partisans who insist on preserving the party system, while the demand for non- partisanship comes from the party regulars of the old school, who insist that the only way to keep the parties alive is to abolish them.&#13;
The present primary law in North Dakota is completely partisan. Nominations for all offices, state and county, are made at party&#13;
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162&#13;
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Chester H. Rowell&#13;
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age La ane XY sf&#13;
i, Ate&#13;
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THE HARBOR AT LIVERPOOL&#13;
As Manchester has its effect on the price of cotton, so Liverpool has its effect on the price of wheat. mand for American wheat there results in an increased price, which results in turn in higher prices for wheat in America,&#13;
even though 85 per cent. of our output is for home consumption. price that buyers are willing to pay in Liverpool, which, in turn, lowers prices in America.&#13;
An increased de-&#13;
A lessened demand, on the contrary, lowers the Many other factors, no&#13;
one of which acts alone, affect wheat prices, of course, but the influence of Liverpool is an important one&#13;
primaries, and voters in the primary of any party are required to be members of that party. Actually this is a false pretense. On state issues North Dakota voters are not Republicans or Democrats. They are “Lea- gue”’ or “Association” supporters—that is, adherents of the Non-Partisan League or of the Independent Voters’ Association. The League has made most of its fights in the Republican primaries. The “I.V.A.,” if de- feated in the Republican primaries, officially indorses the Democratic nominees, but it has found party tradition too strong to deliver the main body of its voters to candidates labeled “Democratic.” So it is now proposed to abolish party nominations, except for national offices. “We have actually been afraid to let national issues be discussed in this state,” said an Association leader. “We kept Re- publican national speakers out of the state in 1920, and the Democrats hurried Cox, their candidate for President, across the line to get rid of him. State issues are so acute that we can have no national parties except by separ- ating the state elé@tion from them. On the&#13;
one occasion when we were able to draw the state issue with only two sides to it—the re- call election of -1921—the Conservatives won. We think we can win again, in a contest purely on state lines. If not—God help us! But when that issue is confused by the national parties, both of which are on both sides of it, the radicals can “bore in’ and win one primary or the other, and then elect their nominee. That is why we, as loyal party men, want non-party nominations, while the non-partisans seek to retain the parties, to use them to their own destruction.”&#13;
This, then, is the mechanical side of the re- volt in this group of states—the tools it works with. Given the Republican and Democratic parties and a third party, and two sorts of primary election laws, we have an actual example of each of the fermentations arithmet- ically possible from these elements.&#13;
But there was, of course, a much deeper economic situation, or no such movement would have been possible. This is the region unpolitically described as the “stomach of America.”” The population is predomin-&#13;
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Why the Middle West Went Radical 163&#13;
antly rural, and it raises wheat, corn, and hogs. The pioneers reclaimed the soil from the vir- gin prairie. Their successors capitalized themselves from the “unearned increment.” Now the present generation must look for a return on both its investment and its labor to the annual product of the farms. Up to the beginning of the war, the economic position of the farmers, as measured,by that of persons engaged in business and industry, had been gradually improving, and during the war it improved very rapidly, both relatively and absolutely. After the close of hostilities the upward trend of prices continued with unexpected speed. Part of this was inflation, part psychology, and part European demand, supported by American credits.&#13;
Suddenly, in August, 1920, the whole struc- ture collapsed. American advances in Europe were exhausted and Europe could no longer buy. The Federal Reserve System, which had postponed raising its discount rate per- haps too long, in order to sustain the Victory loans, deflated credits rapidly instead of gradually. A “consumers’ strike” and the cancellation of orders took the place of a frantic buying market. Credits “froze,” prices fell, business stagnated, and unemploy- ment increased. The condition was general, but it hit the farmers quickest and hardest. There was an almost instantaneous vertical drop in the price of the staple farm product, without any corresponding decrease in the cost of production or the things the farmers had to buy. - When wheat was at its lowest, it had been produced with harvest hands still at $7 a day and tractors and harvesting ma- chinery at almost war prices. The farmer’s dollar had a purchasing power perhaps two thirds of that of the workingman or merchant. The crop of 1920 was sold at less than the cost of production. Banks curtailed credits, and “ passed the buck”’ to the alleged orders of the Federal Reserve Board. And, by a fatal coincidence, the vertical increase in freight rates coincided almost to a day with the ver- tical drop in the price of farm products. These products being cheap and bulky and marketed at long distances, freight rates are a larger proportionate factor in their marketing than is the case with finished manufactured pro- ducts. Also, the farmer pays the freight both ways. He pays “Pittsburgh plus” for his steel, and gets Minneapolis or Chicago minus for his grain and livestock.&#13;
To the farmers it appeared that. they were being discriminated against, not by the operation of natural laws, but by the un- fairness of government. During the war the price of grain had been stabilized, they thought downward, by government guar- antee, but now when the slump came, every- body seemed to be getting guarantees except the farmer. The increase in freight rates, just when prices collapsed, was under the alleged “guarantee clause” of the Esch- Cummins Transportation Act. The Govern- ment was standing the loss on ocean shipping, and the Administration was advocating a ship subsidy to aid private ship owners. The Federal Reserve Bank deflation seemed to be for the benefit of bankers and of Eastern financial centres, at the expense of the coun- try. Curiously enough, the tariff subsidy to manufacturers aroused less active opposition. Perhaps the reaction to that is not yet due. Taxes were still at a war level, while the money to pay them was nearly unobtainable. All these were governmental policies, not economic forces, and the farmer turned his resentment toward the Government for them.&#13;
Actually, no doubt, the major forces were economic and inevitable. In the first place, even these governmental acts were not ac- curately described by the farmers’ half- truths. The Esch-Cummins Law does not guarantee profits, and a ship subsidy would indirectly subsidize the farmers also. Statis- tically, the deflation of bank credits was less in the country than in the cities, and very little of the less liberal policy of country banks was attributable to the Federal Reserve. “In time of stringency, lend sufficiently, but at high rates’’ was a maxim better understood in the financial centres than in the small Western towns. Not much of the discrimina- tion against the farmers was due to anybody’s malice. But African savages are not alone in the human instinct to seek a personal witch as the author of natural calamities. And it is not in medicine alone that we prefer the quack with his ready nostrum for what we think ails us to the physician with his patient diagnosis and expectant reliance on the re- cuperation of Nature.&#13;
HOW DEPRESSION AFFECTS THE FARMER&#13;
NY economic depression tends to cumu- late disproportionately on the farmer. When demand slacks, the manufacturer cur-&#13;
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, Chester H. Rowell&#13;
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FEW DAIRYMEN&#13;
 &#13;
ARE RADICAL&#13;
The average dairyman rises at a very early hour, busies himself continuously until bedtime, and keeps up his work&#13;
all the year through.&#13;
He has little time to think about his troubles and less to think about politics.&#13;
Consequently,&#13;
he is seldom a radical&#13;
tails production, thus bringing supply and demand nearer together. The farmer’s full crop is already produced. General unem- ployment lowers the purchasing power of his consumers, which in turn lowers his own and produces still more industrial unemployment. So the vicious circle repeats itself, with the farmer the cumulative victim, the only one unable to check the collapse of prices by decreased production. Governmental poli- cies did not produce this law of prices, and can not prevent its operation.&#13;
But the politicians at least were not in a position to preach this hard doctrine to the farmers. Those who for two generations had sung hymns to Holy Tariff for the virgin soil of the Dakotas and the widening maw of in- dustrial Europe would need a more than Hearstian agility suddenly to begin explaining how little power after all the political law- makers have over the operation of natural law.&#13;
With of course many individual exceptions, the farmers generally had accumulated tragic- ally little reserve in the fat years to carry them over the lean years. The chief cause of this was speculation. As soon as it was&#13;
known that the farmers had money, a swarm of swindlers pounced down on them, to sell them shares in Blue Sky, Unlimited. It is estimated that they took $200,000,000 away from lowa alone. Nebraska estimates its contribution at $100,000,000. Some of these schemes were distant oil stocks and others were local promotions. Next in importance was land speculation. Under the stimulus of war prices and of currency and credit in- flation, farm lands were boomed up to im- possible paper valuations. Farmers and local bankers alike bought up lands at these extravagant prices, paying ‘very little down and mortgaging their previous holdings for the rest. Imprudent investments in excessive farm improvements and in personal luxuries, at war prices, completed the evil and left the whole region with no adequate reserve to face the period of deflation.&#13;
The peak of the economic crisis was in 1920, but its full political consequences did not develop until 1922. This was doubtless due&#13;
in part to the natural lag between cause and effect, but it was also due to the general causes of the Harding landslide of 1920. Na- tionally, the protest vote went Republican&#13;
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Why the Middle West Went Radical 165&#13;
that year, because the incumbent administra- tion was Democratic, while it went Democra- tic or Insurgent in 1922 for the obverse reason. The Harding wave carried in local Republican candidates even when they were Conservative and misrepresentative of local sentiment.&#13;
By 1922 the full reaction was on. Agricul- tural conditions were improving, but were still bad. The promised “normalcy” was not in sight and there was no positive leadership toward bringing it about. The natural protest was against the party now in power. According to Senator Borah, the people were disgusted with the lack of policy and leadership in both parties. The anti-war vote, which was particularly strong in these states, had gained the courage to express it- self. It had gone for Wilson in 1916 because he kept us out of war and for Harding in 1920 because Wilson had put us into war, but now it turned against those Senators who had shared in responsibility for the war. The “wet” vote struck indiscriminately at who- ever was in power. The Esch-Cummins Act and the Ship Subsidy Bill became active is- sues, and were everywhere unpopular. A fierce revolt against high taxes visited the conse- quences even of local school and road funds on state and national officials. The Federal Reserve Board was still held responsible for the deflation of prices and especially for discrimination against the farmers. For sins of omission, the administration was held re- sponsible for the lack of adequate price stabi- lization, farm credit, and codperative market- ing laws.&#13;
These are all “issues.” And the people were discussing issues. To quote Senator Borah again: “We have played the game of politics below the level of the intelligence of the people.” The people resented the stock- in-trade platitudes of the old-style politicians. They liked to be bored with longwinded, dry, detailed economic discussions by La Follette, Shipstead, and Brookhart.&#13;
Also there arose a multitude of purely local conditions, which must await the detailed ac- count of the elections in the particular states. Some of these explain the apparent paradoxes. For instance, the recall of Governor Frazier of North Dakota in 1921 and his election as Senator the next year become much less as- tonishing when the local and personal situa- tions are understood.&#13;
These considerations explain why there should have been an anti-administration reac- tion, and to some extent why it should have taken a generally radical form. But there must also be added the concrete influence of the Non-Partisan League, the radical organ- ization which had already had such a spectacu lar career in North Dakota. The full history of that League must await the detailed story of North Dakota. It was not the product merely of hard times—in fact, it had made its greatest growth in North Dakota during the period of prosperity. But it now served asa ready-made crystallizing point for the amor- phous agrarian dissatisfaction of neighboring states. It had extended its organizers and its propaganda throughout the Northwest, and was thus at hand to give direction and effec- tiveness to the movement. It introduced the element of constructive radicalism into what might otherwise have been a mere negative reaction. But that, too, is another story, too long for this time.&#13;
This movement has already gained the balance of power in Congress, and may ex- ercise it in the Nation at the next election. It has sent men to Washington, like the Populists of thirty years ago, with proposals that seem preposterous to their contemporar- ies but may be less fantastic to their succes- sors. Most significant of all, it has scared the Conservatives into progress. Like Bismarck, who appropriated every workable proposal of the Socialists and made it imperial policy, to forestall them, the Republican leaders of South Dakota have kept their state Republi- can by making its Republicanism radical. The Conservative-progressive Governor Preus of Minnesota called an inter-state price stabi- lization congress and is promoting coépera- tive marketing and rural credit movements. The conservative recall government of North Dakota has completed the state mill and eleva- tor and is pledged to support it. Congress has passed a rural credit bill and is in terror of itsfarm bloc. The main service of the “crazy radicals’? may be in the same progressivism they have taught the conservatives.&#13;
The story of the working out of this move- ment in the individual states is more concrete and vivid than this preliminary general analysis could possibly be. This is chiefly to give the background, against which alone the individual scenes can be understood.&#13;
A second article by Mr. Rowell on the farmer in politics will appear in the Wortv’s Work for July&#13;
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HARVARD TEACHING BUSINESS THE WAY IT TEACHES LAW&#13;
The ‘“‘Case Method” Applied to Instruction in the Practice of Business as Well as in Its Theory&#13;
By FLOYD W. PARSONS&#13;
P AT Harvard University they have a really big idea concerning the training of young men for executive positions in business. A lot of the educational work&#13;
carried on in our colleges is so largely based on pure theory that frequently it is difficult to apply the principles that are taught to the practical affairs of every-day life. Most de- partures from common thought and current practice are originated by idealists—men of vision and imagination, and this Harvard scheme is no exception to the rule. Wallace B. Donham, dean of the school, is chiefly responsible for this experiment in teaching business, and while his dreams may be up in the clouds, like those of most men who blaze new trails, the results already accomplished indicate plainly that his feet are solidly on the ground. The fellow who can effectively fill the dual rdle of efficient teacher and successful doer is about as difficult to find as a rich gambler, and the Harvard school is fortunate in having secured a leader who is no less adept in handling business actualities than in dealing with new theories.&#13;
There is a growing belief that our educa- tional system here in the United States has been woefully deficient in facilities and plans for training young men for business. We have hundreds of so-called commercial schools, but they have neither the equipment or organiza- tion to develop experts comparable with those that are turned out by our colleges of law, medicine and engineering. In other words, we have not seriously entertained the thought that business is just as much a profession as those relating to the handling of legal prob- lems, healing the sick or driving a tunnel. The average person has always felt that if he failed in everything else, he might at last turn to a business career. Here at least one might start out and be successful, with no more&#13;
equipment than good judgment and a will to work. Surrounded as we are by a veritable army of successful executives of the self-made brand, it is not much wonder that many peo- ple have come to glorify the widely advertised “school of hard knocks,” and to look with doubt upon the benefits resulting from a careful course of business training.&#13;
In the face of such a situation, and in view of the frightful waste to the nation from man- agerial inefficiency in practically all lines of business, it is refreshing and encouraging to note the trend toward a more respectful at- titude concerning the need of a far greater amount of technical knowledge for business beginners who are aiming to climb to execu- tive positions of importance. The idea that energy, enthusiasm, creative ability and personality will suffice to bring success in commerce and industry is being supplanted by the thought that we have come to a time when individual progress will be slow indeed unless well constructed scientific methods and standards are understood and applied in handling every-day business problems.&#13;
This business-training work at Harvard is a decided step forward in the general plan to improve our business practices. It is a promising effort to establish industrial and commercial management on the same type of sound scientific basis as those on which medicine and engineering are founded. It is a worthy endeavor to make the practice of business as much a profession as the practice of law. Back of the whole scheme is an in- teresting conception of what business is and of what it should be, and it is an underlying belief on the part of Dean Donham and his associates that we may learn effectively from the experiences of others in the past, what to avoid and how to act under the conditions of the present.&#13;
The training that a young man receives&#13;
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Harvard Teaching Business the Way it Teaches Law 167&#13;
in an engineering school justifies itself by putting him at an early date on a self-support- ing basis, but notwithstanding the fact that more of our young men who graduate from college choose business as their life work than any other field of endeavor, the average col- lege course in liberal arts has largely failed to develop an ability quickly to earn a satisfac- tory income. In years past there has been no effective method of training college graduates for the transition from the university to a business. The Harvard school expects to fill this need. Its purpose is to teach the young graduate, not languages, literature, and his- tory, but things that will be as directly avail- able and useful in his immediate work as are machine design, bridge construction, and surveying to the young engineer.&#13;
A NEW PHASE IN BUSINESS&#13;
HE big thought in all this is that the prac- tice of business is rapidly developing a&#13;
_ body of principles which may be formulated&#13;
and taught. At present, conditions in the field of industry and trade are quite similar to those which existed in the practice of law and medicine. It has not been many years since the young college graduate who decided on a career at the bar followed the plan of picking out the best lawyer with whom he could make a contact, and then proceeding to read law in the office of this veteran. In like manner, in years past, many young men secured em- ployment in the offices of successful physicians, and there undertook to prepare themselves for the practice of modern medicine. Now such a plan of training for a profession is viewed as obsolete, if not impossible; and practically everyone recognizes that well organized law and medical schools not only save much time for the ambitious youth, but provide him with a far better foundation of knowledge than he could possibly acquire in any one’s office.&#13;
But in business we are only now com- mencing to see the wisdom of effecting a simi- lar change. In practically all of our indus- tries, the common plan is to require the promising young executive to learn everything by direct experience, almost unaided by the accumulated experience of the past. With such a practice, the young college graduate who enters business has a very limited op- portunity to prepare himself for more im- portant executive work by attempting the&#13;
solution of common problems, and he even_has only an occasional chance to observe how routine business situations are met. Under such a condition it is impossible to train men quickly for executive positions that carry a considerable measure of responsibility. All of which makes it evident that there is a real need for the intensive training of the highly specialized graduate school of business ad- ministration.&#13;
Heads of great corporations are commenc- ing to realize the difficulties attending the training of an adequate supply of young executives. Our industrial and commercial expansion is proceeding so rapidly that we can only meet the need for efficient management by cutting the period of training executives from ten years to two. A way must be found to compress the experience of a decade and more into a capsule that the young man can swallow and assimilate in a minimum of time. It is this task that the people at Harvard have set out to accomplish.&#13;
WHAT THE SCHOOLS CAN TEACH&#13;
EAN DONHAM says that it is not possi-&#13;
ble for a business school to teach a man all the ins and outs of running any special type of business. Much of the routine and many technical details must be learned right on the job. The graduates of the highly specialized Harvard school must expect to start as most other beginners in business do. But these young men who are trained for executive positions are able to organize themselves out of their initial positions into other jobs of greater responsibility far more rapidly than the men who enter business directly from college. The minds of these young business professionals have been trained, not only to look for significant facts, but to use these facts in careful business thinking. In this they possess a decided advantage over average college men, because the latter must ac- cumulate facts and principles that the pro- fessionals already know, and this keeps the untrained beginner so busy that he has but little time to prepare himself quickly for promotion. One corporation president who is now making a place in his organization for a certain number of these business graduates each year, estimates that the training they have received saves them five years net. Said he, “Six months after they come to us, they are as well fitted to assume responsibility&#13;
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168 Floyd W.&#13;
and to make decisions as the typical college man at thirty.”’&#13;
Then there are other advantages which accrue to the young men who go in for inten- sive business educations. Practically al- ways they are able to say definitely what branch of business activity they enjoy, and where their interests lie. On the contrary, the college man entering business has only a hazy conception. of why he desires a par- ticular job. The fellow with nothing more than a general or a liberal arts education often finds that at a critical moment he has nothing to offer which the rank and file of business men want. On the other hand, the highly trained business professional, who is as much a specialist as an engineer or a lawyer, is fre- quently able to pick out not only the com- pany, but the department, the job, and even the man with whom he desires to work. Therefore, if it is so advantageous to train young men to be business executives, how can this be accomplished effectively, when we have no carefully defined theory of business? How can men be taught to make correct executive decisions of major importance, when there is a lack of concrete rules and methods to guide them? How can the broad forces of business be charted and appraised, and their applications to individual problems be made plain to the beginner?&#13;
THE LACK OF TEXT BOOKS&#13;
HE people at Harvard have recognized&#13;
the fact that there is not an adequate sup- ply of information available in commercial and economic textbooks to-use as a basis for train- ing students to fill managerial positions in industry and trade. At the same time, they have realized that business decisions are now governed by the precedents and practices current within each particular industry, to an extent that makes these precedents almost comparable in weight with the precedents in law. It has also been plain to the Harvard teachers that it is characteristic of American business men to know very little about any business except their own, and to feel that economists are too theoretical and have little to offer which is of value in the commercial field. Asa result, our business men have been prone to minimize the importance of the work of the economist, and as a consequence there has been a gulf separating business theorists from business practitioners.&#13;
Parsons&#13;
In a great majority of cases, our economists devote their time to problems whose solutions are not directly applicable to business, and, as a result, most executives have failed to learn the language of the economist. The latter’s point of view is social, while the business man’s is primarily individualistic. Of course, the mental processes of the members of the banking fraternity are more general and come nearer the social point of view than do those of the business specialists. No matter in what industry he is engaged, the manufacturer or merchant holds the opinion that his busi- ness is essentially different from all others. If he goes in at all for economics, it is because he believes that an understanding of a few of our national issues may help him in handling some of his problems, especially those relating to labor.&#13;
HOW TO LEARN BUSINESS&#13;
T FOLLOWS, therefore, that to be success- ful in placing business on a scientific foun- dation, some way must be found to bring the economist and the business man together. Diligent research must be undertaken that will disclose a multitude of precedents from which definite principles on which to base executive actions can be evolved. There is no one that would not ridicule the idea of carrying on the development of chemistry by having each be- ginner start his career by ignoring the ac- complishments of his predecessors and devot- ing his time to working out rudiments that were completely investigated years before. The young engineer would not be wise if on entering the automobile business he were to commence by dropping back two decades in the art of motor-car construction and giving his thought to the building of a crude one- cylinder gas engine of the type common twenty years ago. Likewise, what a silly thing it would be for each doctor to disregard the records of the cases treated by other members of the medical fraternity, and ex- pect to build up a theory of medicine solely as a result of his own experience.&#13;
But while we acknowledge at once that it would be the essence of folly for professional men to ignore the accumulated wisdom of the ages relating to their own science, we coun- tenance a situation in our business life that does this very thing. We are all agreed that the waste of timber, coal, and other valuable natural resources by ourselves and our fore-&#13;
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Harvard Teaching Business the Way it Teaches Law 169&#13;
bears has constituted an economic crime. Yet we are blind to the truth that a no less waste- ful policy exists to-day in business through the failure of one generation of executives to hand down to their successors complete records of all the business problems that have arisen in each industry, and just how these difficulties were approached and overcome. Each time trade becomes slack and the nation enters into a period of industrial depression, all of the leaders in every line of business should be able to turn immediately for relief and guidance to a fund of accurate informa- tion covering the precedents and practices of similar crises in the past. In 1920 the nation had great need for records in usable form, of the experiences of 1893, but no such records exist. We talk of too much theory in busi- ness, but the fact is that we have almost none at all in comparison with such professions as those of law and medicine.&#13;
HANDICAPS TO EXECUTIVES&#13;
VERY executive to-day is handicapped by&#13;
a lack of information concerning the methods used by other executives to solve in- ternal problems similar to his own. It is easy to teach an intelligent person the rules and principles of accounting, book-keeping, and other more or less mechanical pursuits that go to make up the operation of a business. But not even a thorough understanding of such work serves to fit a person for an im- portant executive position where vital prob- lems must be met and decisions made promptly when there is no background of personal experience that the individual may fall back upon.&#13;
Fifty years ago, at the Harvard Law School, the decision was reached that the students preparing to enter the legal profession could be trained much more effectively if the school were to introduce the use of selected reported decisions of American courts as the basis of classroom instruction. This plan, known as the “case’’ system, was put into operation by the Harvard authorities, and immediately there was a wide discussion concerning the possible merits of the scheme. Many other educational institutions expressed skepticism with reference to the innovation, and law schools generally were slow to adopt the plan. Now all doubts concerning the excellence of the case system of teaching law have disap- peared, and this plan of preparing young men&#13;
for the bar is the orthodox method of instruc- tion in law schools throughout the land.&#13;
This transition in the common practice of teaching law is now being duplicated at Har- vard in the methods of training young men for executive positions in business. Of course, it is far easier to get together cases covering matters in law than to collect the details of business problems and their solutions, be- cause in the legal field all controversies, with their settlements, are matters of record. But Dean Donham is rapidly developing a plan that has made it possible largely to use the problem or case method of instruction in the Harvard school of business. A staff of in- vestigators is employed to go about and collect from successful business men complete in- formation concerning the various problems they have had to face in all phases of business operation, and the decisions that have been made. These business problems, or rather “cases,” as the Harvard people prefer to call them, are not to be found ready-made. What the investigator usually gets is a practical set of facts out of which arises a problem or problems for determination by the man in business. Later the cases are prepared for classroom use, and in this preparation the name of the company is disguised so that the particular executive or concern that supplied the problem may not be identified.&#13;
METHODS OF TEACHING&#13;
FTEN the case is improved for teaching purposes by varying the facts, provided&#13;
such adaptations can be made without de- stroying the reality of the situation. While the gathering of cases for teaching business is ar- duous the technique of presentation is still in an early experimental stage, and as a result the teachers are compelled to face numerous dif- ficulties in developing the use of this new sys- tem. In the fields of law and medicine, it is easily possible for any one to go to a good library, and compile a list of interesting cases to use for instruction purposes, but there is no case book for teaching business, so in training men for the profession of business, it is neces- sary to go directly to our industrial and com- mercial leaders for the essential facts and problems. Of course, we have articles and treatises on business subjects, but these do not fill the need, because the value of the business case for use in teaching is largely destroyed when it is analyzed by the business&#13;
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Floyd W.&#13;
170&#13;
economist and re-stated by him in a general- ized form, rather than presented specifically and uncolored, just as it has come to the business executive. Furthermore, the in- vestigator, or searcher for business cases to illustrate particular points, cannot turn to any index or encyclopedia to aid him in col- lecting his facts.&#13;
While the work of collecting business cases must entail much labor for years to come, the Harvard experiment has proved beyond doubt that it is possible for the teachers of business of the country to secure from corpor- ation executives a sufficient number and variety of problems to enable the instructor to develop the principles of business from them in discussions with his class. It is also ap- parent from the progress already made that a business-problem book can be prepared to perform the function of the case book in the law school. Furthermore, in business as in law, it may be assumed that common prac- tices can be founded on a science developed from precedents. Of course, there are those who will assert that the law is far from being a science in any exact sense, but such an argument is only in the nature of a quibble, and the greatest benefit will come from recognizing the truth that the underlying principles of business may in numerous cases be discovered by analysis, and applied to new facts. The fundamental assumption under- lying the work of the Harvard school is that business is not hit or miss, but that its subject- matter may be put into coherent, systematic form. This being a fact, it follows that the principles of business may be developed by the inductive method, just as well as they may be laid down ex cathedra.&#13;
RESULTS OF THE ‘“‘CASE SYSTEM”&#13;
NE of the chief reasons why the case sys-&#13;
tem of instruction is so effective in the hands of a competent teacher is that it arouses the interest of the student by making him an active rather than a passive participant in the instruction. At the same time, this scheme of teaching stimulates careful analysis and systematic thinking. All business, except that of a routine nature, may be reduced to the solution of problems and the making of decisions. In actual practice, these deci-&#13;
sions frequently are made from insufficient premises and under pressure as to time. Therefore, it follows that an educational&#13;
Parsons&#13;
method which compels the student to decide similar problems from day to day, in and out of the classroom, must certainly be better preparation for general executive work than any method which is based primarily on merely telling the student how to do business.&#13;
Of course, it must be understood that the case method of instruction, taught from col- lections of problems, is not expected entirely to supersede the instruction by textbook and lecture-system methods. It has been found that unless the student in the very beginning is given a broad foundation of important principles, he is likely to show much uncer- tainty and confusion later, when the actual problems of every-day business are put to him for analysis and decision. It is the study of cases that stimulates greater personal initiative in thinking. But the supplemental knowledge that is gained from the written treatise and the classroom lecture provides a proper background to round out the training supplied by the studyof current business prob- lems.&#13;
PREVENTING NARROW SPECIALIZATION&#13;
* THE past, the average student preparing for business has looked upon accounting as simply accounting, and finance as only fi- nance. Now we know that in training a young man to become a business executive he must thoroughly understand the interrela- tion between the various business practices that perform necessary functions in the opera- tion of the whole machine. Every effort is made to combat the idea of the student that he must develop himself into a narrow specialist. He is given to understand the usefulness of a proper training in factory management, even for the fellow who is aim- ing to commence his career as an accountant ora salesman. In other words, the idea is to graduate students who have the mental qualifications and the broad training of execu- tives before they take up actual duties in business. Instead of having met and solved problems in real business life, they have analyzed and reached decisions on these same identical problems in a short space of time in the classroom.&#13;
Right here it would be interesting to present at length one or more of the hundreds of business problems that have been collected and used in training the students at Har- vard, but space forbids, for most of the im-&#13;
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Harvard Teaching Business the Way it Teaches Law 171&#13;
portant cases that have been prepared for discussion necessarily go into great detail in laying down the facts. However, | may illustrate briefly by touching just a few high spots in one marketing problem secured from a New England company known as the Rod- ney E. Powers Company, which concern acted as the distributor of a car known as the Haddon. Of course the name of the com- pany, as well as that of the car, is fictitious, but the information covering the case has been taken from an actual problem that was met in business.&#13;
A CLASS PROBLEM&#13;
HE Powers Company last year took a lot&#13;
of cars of their own and other makes as part payments for new cars that their custom- ers purchased from them. Then prices were re- duced and this caused a material depreciation in the market value of the used cars they had on their hands, with a resulting severe loss to the company. The Powers people in order to find a solution for the used car problem had once refused to accept second-hand cars as part payments for new machines. Later they adopted the scheme of taking a prospect’s car to sell on consignment. Both plans were unsatisfactory. In order to make it easier for their dealers, the Haddon Company that man- ufactures the car handled by the Powers con- cern, has endeavored to achieve style perman- ency for its models because experience has shown that frequency of style changes upsets the used car market. Next a plan was developed for rebuilding used cars so as to make them attractive to bargain hunters. A guarantee was placed on each reconditioned car. The manufacturer also devoted some of his advertising to speeding up the sale of over- hauled Haddons. And all of this helped materially, but it did not solve the problem of how to handle cars of other makes than the Haddon which were received in exchange.&#13;
In the meantime it developed that many dealers, in an effort to sell cars that have not yet built up a reputation for high quality, were offering to prospective purchasers much larger allowances for their used cars than were other agencies handling automobiles with established reputations. For this and other reasons, a proposal was made recently that a clearing house plan should be used by all the automobile dealers in the city where the Powers Company is doing business. Under&#13;
this plan used “A” cars taken in by the “B” dealer would be turned over to the “A” dealer, and used “B”’ cars received by the “A” dealer would be sent to the “B”’ dealer. Mr. Powers opposed the plan on the ground that his company would be taking in a lot of lower-priced cars, while the agencies handling these makes would be getting very few, if any, Haddons. As a result there would not be any even basis of exchange. The dealers in the lower-priced cars would soon refuse to continue taking second-hand machines of their own makes from the Powers Company, when they probably would not have more than one or two chances a year to pass a Haddon back. The idea might be all right if it was intended to include only dealers in those classes of cars*coming within practi- cally the same price range.&#13;
A FURTHER SUGGESTION&#13;
NOTHER plan to remedy the used car situ- ation proposes that allowance estimates on various makesof cars be standardized. The scheme includes a request that manufacturers coéperate in working out a table of values, according tolength of use and mileage traveled for each of 40 well known makes of cars. In case the plan is perfected, local dealers will be asked to enter into an agreement to adhere strictly to the established appraisal values.&#13;
Such were some of the facts included in the presentation of this business problem, and the students are required to prepare answers to the following questions: Is the Powers Com- pany justified in not supporting the plan for a used-car clearing house arrangement? What attitude should the concern adopt toward the proposal for standardizing trade-in allow- ances? And last, should the Powers people continue their present trading methods in handling used cars of makes other than the Haddon?&#13;
Problems of this kind take the teaching of business out of the realm of pure theory and make it a practical affair full of realism. Of course, it is easy to realize that the collection of live facts and the development of sound guiding principles from these facts entails a vast amount of careful research, so no story of the Harvard business school would be at all complete without mention being made of the valuable work being done by Director Copeland and his associates in the Bureau of Business Research. This organized plan of&#13;
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172&#13;
investigation was put into effect at Harvard because no laboratories are available for the use of business students like those that are equipped for the use of college men who are preparing to be chemists, engineers, and doc- tors. Very little has been discovered about business, so the only way to get the truth was to start research and uncover the facts es- sential for teaching purposes.&#13;
HOW THE INVESTIGATIONS ARE FINANCED&#13;
OCTOR COPELAND has made such progress in his investigations that prac- tically all of the research at Harvard is now being carried on by appropriations from indus- tries themselves. The work has become as val- uable to business men as to theschool, and that is why someof our industries are putting up the money. The aggregate sales of four trades— three retail and one wholesale—that are now appropriating funds for the Harvard research, last year totalled more than one billion dollars. At present, thirty men are out getting business cases, and already this year more than twenty- seven hundred problems have been collected, on labor, factory management, advertising, retail-store practice, commercial banking, investment banking, foreign trade, etc. Doc- tor Copeland says that the only way one can develop general conclusions relating to busi- ness is to get a fairly complete. record of the experiences of executives in a great variety of cases. The difference between business and law is that law is six hundred years ahead of business in recording decisions. But the Harvard workers are confident that as we go along further it will be found that investiga- tors can get better evidence for business decisions than will ever be possible in law decisions. Of course, all reports from firms are held in strict confidence.&#13;
The Harvard research plan is designed to establish a common terminology in every industry. The trades that have joined hands with the Bureau of Research are now using terms that always mean the same thing. Rent is rent; sales-force expense is sales-force ex- pense, and advertising is advertising, without doubt or ambiguity as to what is included in each category. In one trade, before things were standardized, a retailer submitted a statement which showed that his gross profit was 17 per cent., his total expense 12 per cent. and his net profit 5 per cent. When the gaps in the statement had been filled, his total ex-&#13;
Floyd W. Parsons&#13;
pense actually was found to be 24 per cent., and his net profit was turned into a net loss of 7 per cent. Examples of this kind of ac- counting might be duplicated by the score. Doctor Copeland says that any merchant whose cost of doing business is less than 20 per cent. of his sales should immediately be dis- trustful of the correctness of his methods.&#13;
RESULTS OF RESEARCH&#13;
VEN the comparatively meagre amount of research that has already been completed at Harvard has commenced to indicate means of economy which must eventually yield direct benefit to the public at large. For instance, take the matter of stock turnover. Research has shown the realadvantages that accruefrom a reasonably rapid rate of turnover; it has shown that the rate of stock turnover in the average store can be increased; and it has in- dicated the amount of saving which will result from that increase. Through the stock-keep- ing system it has provided one means of help- ing to bring about a more rapid rate of stock turnover, and this is only one of several specific methods of securing economy in store management that have been developed through the Harvard research.&#13;
The effect of the rate of stock turnover on expenses and profits is something that the average retailer ought to consider carefully. The highest rate of stock turnover in one trade reported in 1921, a year of extreme dul- ness, was 2.8 times. That store, showing such a satisfactory turnover, reported a net profit of more than 9 per cent. of net sales. In 1921, among the stores reporting to the Research Bureau, there were fifty-seven in this trade which turned their stock less than 0.7 of one time per year. In those fifty-seven stores, the total expense amounted to $523 out of each $1,000 of sales, and each $1,000 of sales represented a net loss of $110. Then there was a group of 77 stores that turned their stock between 0.7 and 0.9 of one time per year, and those stores’ total expense was $436 of each $1,000 of sales and net loss was $66 per $1,000 of sales. In the same year, there was a group of 33 that succeeded in turning their stock between 1 and 1.4 times per year. In those stores, total operating expenses required $353 out of each $1,000 of sales, and the net loss was only $34 for each $1,000 of sales. Then there were 22 firms that turned their stock more than 1.5 times a&#13;
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Harvard Teaching Business the Way it Teaches Law 173&#13;
year; their total expenses required only $328 out of each $1,000 of sales, and they broke exactly even, showing neither a profit nora loss.&#13;
““BUSINESS ASTROLOGERS”&#13;
HERE is no doubt but that research&#13;
which brings out the basic facts of busi- ness should be applied far more widely in all of our industrial and commercial practices. Many fields of business activity are now in the realm of hypotheses corresponding to the fan- tastic theories of the ancient astrologers. Be- fore scientific methods came into use, the astrologer and the medicine man created fan- tastic explanations to account for the phenom- ena of Nature. Then came true research, which did away with absurd notions about the sun, moon, and stars, and it became recognized that these important bodies were under the influence of definite laws which controlled and ordered their movements. Copernicus, Kep- pler, and others conceived the idea of recording and collecting systematically, over a consider- able period of time, the facts about their movements. It was then possible to classify these facts in series and sequences, and to develop from these classifications and records laws and theories which not only explained the present, but gave a method of predicting the future. A similar development must take place in business if we are to establish our commercial practices on a foundation of science.&#13;
Fortunately, we are coming to recognize the many benefits that result from exchanges of experiences among different business con- cerns. Trade secrets of a non-technical nature have ceased to exist in many well managed plants, where a decade or two ago it was dif- ficult for the manager of a competing concern even to gain admission. Such interchange to-day is not only possible, but is expected. The average merchant has come to realize that so long as he maintains his initiative and sound judgment, he will prosper more by sharing the results of his experience with others than he will by trying to keep them under his hat. Experience in recent years has indicated plainly that the business man who prides himself on his own methods and re- fuses to share his experience with others us-&#13;
ually is deceiving himself and losing an op- portunity to gain fully as much benefit as he would give.&#13;
With such facts before us, it is gratifying to witness the progress that is being made at Harvard to supply the business world with young men who have been thoroughly trained to shoulder the burden of business, and who will be able to carry on in a fashion that is no less scientific and professional than their contemporaries who have chosen to enter the fields of law, medicine, or engineering. That there has been a great need for such a school is evidenced by the fact that of the class grad- uating last year, 75 per cent. were placed be- fore they had left the school. Of the class that graduated the previous year, only one man has changed employers since leaving school. A Wall Street man who was not over-enthusiastic about the Harvard method of training young executives for business de- cided to take several men purely as an experi- ment. He did not hide the fact that the reports which had reached him, about the school being able really to teach business to young men, sounded to him like high-grade “bunk.”’ But after using three of the young graduates, he went back up to Cambridge and made arrangements to take three additional graduates from each class each year.&#13;
The Harvard Graduate School of Business draws its students, practically speaking, from all of the important colleges throughout the country. Of all the institutions that now have men at Cambridge, the University of California ranks second in the number of its graduates who are now taking the business course at Harvard. But let no one think that it is an easy matter for the student satis- factorily to complete the course of training that is laid out for these would-be business executives. Of 440 that started in last year’s class, only 150 remain. This is plain in- dication that it is the Harvard policy to turn out quality rather than quantity. And who is there who will deny that the injection of a reasonable percentage of intellectual aristocracy into American business will be a . good thing, in view of the certainty of a coming struggle among the important nations of the world for commercial supremacy.&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate&#13;
The Ku Klux Klan’s Progress Under the Direction of Skilled Sales- men. How They Fooled Honest People While Providing an Outlet for Prejudice and Revenge. Some Political Effects in the South&#13;
By ROBERT L. DUFFUS&#13;
“The very idea of the power and right of the people to establish government presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established government.&#13;
“All obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combinations and associations, under what- ever plausible character, with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular delibera- tion and action of the constituted authorities, are obstructive of this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency. . However combinations and associations of the above description may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become potent engines by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be able to subvert the power of the people, and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterward the very engines which lifted them to unjust dominion.’’—From Washington’s Farewell Address, quoted by Governor&#13;
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Jobn M. Parker of Louisiana.&#13;
“I thought it a good thing, but later I learned different and I resigned. After its advent, friends&#13;
became enemies; it separated the people and brought about disorders.&#13;
Mer Rouge was once&#13;
peaceful and contented, but after the Klan came, people grew bitter and suspicious ——From the testimony of Mayor R. L. Dade of Mer Rouge, at Bastrop, Louisiana, January 11, 1923.&#13;
ASTROP, Louisiana, on August 24,&#13;
1922, was holding a baseball game&#13;
and a barbecue, and trying to work&#13;
up interest among the people of Morehouse Parish for a million-&#13;
dollar good-roads bond issue. “Captain” J. K. Skipwith— “Old Skip,” they called him—was there in the full noontide of his glory as Exalted Cyclops of the Ku Klux Klan in Morehouse Parish, and from Mer Rouge, eight miles away, had come several hundred people, including Watt Daniel; his father, J. L. Daniel, a well-known planter; young&#13;
Daniel’s chum, Tom Richards, a garage mechanic; W. C. Andrews, and “Tot” Davenport.&#13;
A week before, Richards and young Daniel had been seized by masked men in broad day- light, in the presence of numerous witnesses, taken into the woods, questioned as to their complicity in an attempt said to have been made to shoot Dr. B. M. McKoin, a promi- nent local Klansman, lectured as to their&#13;
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general conduct, warned, and turned loose. Perhaps Daniel had been making a little whiskey. Possibly he had offended against a rigid moral code in some other ways, despite the fact that he was a war veteran with an honorable\record, and a welcome guest in the best homed in Mer Rouge. Perhaps his real offence was\that he had walked into a Klan meeting in the woods, pulled out a gun when he was thrdatened, and made fun of the solemn horseplay of the order. Not a scrap of evidence has ever been produced to show that he—or, for that matter, any one else— ever fired at Doctor McKoin. As for Rich- ards, his principal offence seems to have been that he was Daniel’s friend and no friend of the Morehouse Klan.&#13;
The word went round that “the boys had been talking too much” or that they “knew too much.” Old Skip was seen talking to strangers and nodding his head in the direc- tion of Daniel and Richards.&#13;
Toward dusk the Mer Rouge delegation&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate 175&#13;
started for home, some fifty or sixty auto- mobiles tooting merrily along. They had gone about two miles when they came to a point where the road dips to cross a bridge over a little stream. Here something blocked the road—a crippled car they thought at first. But presently a little group of masked man came down the line, all armed, one of them carrying a Winchester rifle, throwing flash lights into the faces of the people in the cars. They halted at the machine in which Daniel sat. “That’s the man we want,” said one of them. A girl cried, “Watt! Watt! Watt!’? A woman, near her time, shrieked. Daniel got out, or was dragged out, and was followed by Andrews, Davenport, Richards, and the elder Daniel.&#13;
Late that night Watt Daniel and Richards were seen on a truck guarded by masked men near Lake La Fourche, south of Mer Rouge. Andrews and the elder Daniel were brutally kicked, beaten with leather straps and thrown out at Collinston, between Mer Rouge and Lake La Fourche. Davenport was released uninjured. Armed men sat up all night in&#13;
both Mer Rouge and Bastrop, waiting a new outrage of an effort at retaliation. Old Skipor- dered the telephone girl at Bastrop to stop all messages between that town and Mer Rouge, and, after she refused, the wires were cut.&#13;
This was, as | have said, on August 24, 1922. Daniel and Richards were not seen again alive. Five months later, while troops sent out by Governor John M. Parker were patrolling the parish to prevent civil war between the Bastrop Klansmen and the outraged citizenry of Mer Rouge, a mys- terious explosion brought two hideously mangled bodies to the surface of Lake La Fourche.&#13;
That one of these bodies was that of Watt Daniel was proved by a belt buckle bearing his initials, by a wrist-watch belonging to his father, by a bow necktie bearing his initials, and by an initialed shirt-band. That the other was that of Richards was strongly indicated by the tattered fragments of cloth clinging to it, which were identified by a Mer Rouge merchant as identical with that of a suit sold by him to Richards.&#13;
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THE KLAN HEARING AT BASTROP, LA.&#13;
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The first of the legal steps taken to convict the Klan or some of its members of complicity in the Mer Rouge murder. It was definitely proved that many members of the local Klan had guilty knowledge of other local outrages, including&#13;
the kidnapping, a week before the murder, of the two murdered men&#13;
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Robert L. Duffus&#13;
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THE COURT HOUSE AT BASTROP, LA.&#13;
Where the open hearing was held that attempted to indict the local Ku Klux Klan or some members of it for the revolting murders of Watt Daniel and Tom Richards&#13;
Governor Parker intervened in the case four days after the disappearance of Daniel and Richards. In a speech in Chicago on February 26th he told why.&#13;
“On the 28th of August last,” he said, “my phone rang late at night and a pitiful female voice appealed to me to try to help find the petitioner’s husband. The lady stated that her name was Mrs. Richards; that she was from Mer Rouge, Louisiana; that her husband had been . . torn away from her little three-year-old child, who was with him, and that an earnest effort had failed to produce any information in regard to him. She said that she was an orphan when she married Richards, that she had two little girl babies, that Richards was a kind, good husband, had never been in any kind of trouble, and as he was only a garage employee had left her absolutely destitute.”’&#13;
For responding to this appeal, and to that of Daniel’s father, Governor Parker has been venomously denounced by every spokesman and mouthpiece of the Ku Klux Klan in America, from Colonel Simmons down. Not one Klansman, in or out of Louisiana, has voluntarily lifted a finger to assist in the dis- covery of the murderers. Although evidence&#13;
which was common gossip in Morehouse Par- ish showed that Daniel and Richard had been at outs with the Klan, that they had been warned by identified members of the Klan, that they had been carried off in a truck in which were identified members of the Klan, and that the Klan, as testified by several of its own former members, had whipped and beater a number of citizens of Morehouse Parish, the Morehouse grand jury, at least two thirds of whose members are Klansmen, has twice refused to indict or even to admit that a crime was committed. At the same time Klansmen have spread the foulest slan- ders concerning the two dead men, as though to justify the atrocity which they deny oc- curred.&#13;
But if Governor Parker did not succeed in bringing the murderers to justice, he did sum- mon the Klan to the bar of American public opinion in the open hearing held before Judge Odom at Bastrop last January. Testimony at this hearing showed that the tragedy had not come out of a clear sky, but had been the result of the slow degradation of an entire community over a:period of many months, beginning with the arrival of the Klan in Morehouse parish, probably late in 1920.&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate 177&#13;
According to Klansmen, the order first con- fined itself to lecturing and warning obnoxious persons. The members talked of “cleaning&#13;
*up” Bastrop and Mer Rouge, and the Bas-&#13;
trop members were particularly ardent in their desire to improve the little neighboring community of eight hundred inhabitants. One of their exploits, performed on January 2, 1922, was the deportation of sixteen-year- old Addie May Hamil- ton on the ground that “the Klan did not like her conduct.” Several armed men were re- quired to do this job, and one of them struck Addie’s mother with his fist. Later, a peti- tion to allow Addie to return was circulated among the Klansmen and graciously granted.&#13;
J. S. Norsworthy, a former Klansman of Mer Rouge, who re- signed in disgust when he saw how affairs were going, testified at the Bastrop hearing that he “was ordered to help whip several men within an inch of their&#13;
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more and more impatient of opposition or criticism.&#13;
There was abundant ground for Attorney General Coco’s assertion that “the flogging of citizens, their deportation and banishment, and other kindred offences were but mere pastimes, and of such frequent occurrence that they were accepted as commonplace things, the protest against which was itself sufficient ground for deportation.” A peaceful community, with schools, respected old families, local pride, and interest in good roads, had been plunged into hate and terror and brought to the verge of civil war. This was the work of an organization which boasted that its aims were “to cultivate and promote real patriot- ism toward our civil government; . . . to exemplify a practical benevolence; to shield the sanctity of the home and the chastity of womanhood ; and by a practical de- votedness to conserve,&#13;
lives, take them to the Arkansas line and or- der them not to re-&#13;
JUDGE ODOM&#13;
Who presided at the open hearing at Bastrop, La., which&#13;
was unsuccessful in indicting anyone for complicity in the&#13;
murders, but which put the brutal story before the American public&#13;
protect, and maintain the distinctive institu- tions, rights, privi-&#13;
turn,” that Klansmen in Morehouse reported offences, not to the con- stituted officers of the law, but to Old Skip, the power-drunk Exalted Cyclops, that the ac- tion taken was “whatever Captain Skipwith saw fit,” and that a condition of terrorism had been created.””’ Mayor Dade of Mer Rouge, testified that he had been a member, and had even been with the party which kidnapped and lectured Daniel and Richards a short time prior to the murder, but declared that he had withdrawn because he became convinced that the Klan was a bad thing. The Klan went steadily from bad to worse for a long time prior to the fatal night of August 24; decent men dropped out; the fanatical, violent, and vindictive got control; and Old Skip, tasting authority for the first time in his life, grew more and more arrogant,&#13;
leges, principles, tra-&#13;
ditions, and ideals of a pure Americanism.” Mer Rouge has earned an _ unenviable prominence because there the fruits of the Klan’s labors were extraordinarily and drama- tically dreadful. Whether the crime was planned or was the result of sudden impulse may never be known. Perhaps it was the act of an old man debauched to the verge of insanity by bigotry and power. At all events the light of nation-wide attention fell on Morehouse Parish more by accident than any- thing else. And the ominous feature of the crime which cost Daniel and Richards their lives was not its naked horror, but the fact that the conditions which happened to pro- duce it were, and are, duplicated in greater or lesser degree in literally hundreds of Southern communities. In most cases the spark which&#13;
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R. L. DADE&#13;
The present mayor of Mer Rouge, who joined the Ku Klux Klan, but resigned when he found out to his satisfaction that it was objectionable&#13;
led to murder was lacking, but in nearly every community in the South in which the Klan obtained a firm footing there was violence and breach of the laws.&#13;
In order to understand how this plague— this social boll weevil—fastened itself upon the South, it is necessary to bear in mind not only the long-standing social and economic peculiarities of this part of the country, but also certain peculiar conditions existing in 1920 and 1921, when Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler were selling the Klan’s cencentrated hate pill with such success at $10 a package.&#13;
The Ku Klux Klan flourished best in cum- munities where educational standards were low and social life raw or primitive. To say that such communities are numerous in the back counties of Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas is no reflec- tion upon the racial stock which inhabits them. The truth is, despite a good deal of eloquence and some statistics to the con- trary, that the recovery of the South from the Civil War is still incomplete. It is only in this generation that the schools have been catching up with those of the North. Large areas have been poor to the verge of misery,&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
have suffered severely from a grotesquely wasteful system of farming and land tenure, and have even undergone an actual degenera- tion of a once flourishing social life. Others, notably in the oil regions, are in a state of bumptious and almost barbaric prosperity. This may be a transitional stage, from which the boll weevil, the development of industries, the extension of agricultural knowledge, the influx of Northern capital, and other agencies of man and nature will furnish an escape, but in the meantime multitudes are left at loose ends, and are not sharers in the best that modern civilization can give. Among these people certain pioneer traditions, good and evil, still flourish. Men carry guns and are ready to use them; woman is still a lesser man, protected, deferred to, and exploited as such; and religion and morals are not a Sabbath formality, but a serious week-day preoc- cupation. This does not mean that the rural Southerner is better behaved than the com- mon run of human beings, but it does mean that he tends to see life in moral terms, and that, as Holland Thompson has said, his “ethical concepts’ are more important to him than law.&#13;
And the Ku Klux Klan brought to him what purported to be an ethical concept. It took his vague ideas about woman, home, God, Americanism, and Anglo-Saxon supre- mecy, and turned them into magniloquent phrases. It did this so effectively that the mean man’s cussedness and the bigoted man’s bigotry were armed with a moral justification.&#13;
But the South of 1920 and 1921, when the Ku Klux made its great advances, was not the normal South. There had been a world war, with consequent disturbings of men’s minds everywhere; there had been rumors of revolu- tion and counter-revolution; there had been a deluge of catch-words, a Johnstown flood of propaganda; lastly the subordinate race in the South had been drafted to fight for democracy in France, and had been en- couraged to believe that its status at home would somehow be altered for the better. As the Negro troops began to come back from France an uneasiness ran through the black belt. It was thought that the black veterans would be “biggety.” The Negroes, on their part, had been doing some thinking on the subject of democracy, and were not inclined to submit cheerfully to all the conditions&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate 179&#13;
which they had accepted before the war. Nineteen hundred and nineteen had been a year of race riots both North and South, and for every riot there were a hundred minor disturbances and a thousand crises which were tided over only by good fortune, and good sense among the members of both races.&#13;
Yet, while the racial situation contributed to a state of mind favorable to Ku-Kluxism, curiously enough it did not figure prominently in the Klan’s career. The Klan soon found that for various reasons, among them the realization that the South would suffer econ- omically if the Negroes were driven in larger numbers into the Northern labor markets, it could not safely undertake a general anti- Negro crusade. There have been sporadic instances of outrages against Negroes of which Klansmen are known to have been guilty, and there was in 1921 a drastic in- crease in the number of lynchings in districts where the order was strong, but&#13;
Everywhere, from Atlanta to Oklahoma City, in the first months of 1923, | heard repeated almost in identical words the assertion that at first the “best people” joined, and that some of them had such faith in Colonel Simmons’s ritual and in their own good intentions that they remained in the Klan after it had be- come an abomination in the eyes of most out- siders. There seem to have been many cases such as that described to me by a Louisianan, an ardent friend and supporter of Governor Parker, who told of a “really saintly” old gentleman of his acquaintance who could not be brought by any manner of argument to see that his membership in the Klan was anything but praiseworthy. Sometimes getting out of the Klan was not so simple as getting in. Merchants were afraid to drop out because of boycotts, poli- ticians because they feared to lose votes, editors because they dared not risk offending&#13;
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the major part of the Klan’s reg- ulatory activities have had to do with white men.&#13;
One other element in the spread of the Klan, both North and South, but particularly in the Puritanical South, has undoubtedy been the “fundamentalist’”” movement of which Mr. Bryan is an able ex- ponent. The country was relig- iously disturbed by the war and its emotional aftermath. The feeling that religious and eco- nomic innovations went hand in hand and were both associated with undesirable foreign influ- ences, was general. Evolution, Bolshevism, atheism, and immor- ality were lumped together. Men were trying to get back to what they thought, rightly or wrongly, to be the faith of their fathers. And the Ku Klux, happening upon this fertile field, offered them in convenient form what actually did purport to be the faith of the fa- thers. They put the Klan regalia on every dead national hero, not even excepting Washington, Lin- coln,and the rationalisticF ranklin.&#13;
With this bait the organiza- tion caught good citizens as well as bad and indifferent ones.&#13;
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J. S. NORSWORTHY (RIGHT)&#13;
With A. R. Farland, a Government operative. Norsworthy testified&#13;
to having been a member of the Ku Klux Klan, but after seeing the Klan at work he became disgusted with it and resigned&#13;
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180&#13;
readers and advertisers. Often men were threatened with bodily harm, either for refus- ing to join or for trying to withdraw. Such instances are the commonest gossip among Southerners who dare talk frankly. If aman was financially or socially strong enough, or brave enough, he sometimes defied the Klan. One man, in a small city not far from Atlanta, identified to his own satisfaction the writers of several threatening letters, and, going to their places of business, pleasantly proposed to “shoot it out.” His proposal was not accepted, and he received no more threaten- ing letters.&#13;
Another, this time in a Western Texas county, was warned anonymously that he “had better stop talking against the Klan.” He replied by issuing hand bills offering five hundred dollars to any Klansman who would repeat the warning in person, but although he spent several hours walking up and down the main street of his home town, Winchester in hand and revolver in belt, the reward was not called for. And even in Mer Rouge there were men like J. S. Norsworthy, whom | have already quoted, who in answer to a question put him by Attorney General Coco, exclaimed: “ Fear the Klan—hell, no! There’s not enough men in Bastrop to make me fear. Skulkers! Yellow  skulkers! Men __ that haven’t nerve enough to come out in the open and fight.”&#13;
And it would be possible to list judges, lawyers, editors, clergymen, and humble citizens by the score who dared stand up against hidden enemies for what they believed to be a real as opposed to a spurious Ameri- canism.&#13;
But not all were of this calibre. In scores of towns throughout the Klan belt a state of terrorism prevailed, as it did in Mer Rouge. A newspaper editor, in a Texas village, told an acquaintance of mine that he had joined the order when it was first organized, declared that he was now disgusted with it, but ad- mitted that he dare not mention its numerous and notorious offences in his news columns.&#13;
The Klan must be credited with a highly skilful combining of mystery and _ hocus- pocus, with very businesslike methods of sell- ing memberships. For a time newspaper publicity helped rather than hurt them, and as | have said in a previous article, they used newspaper advertisements effectively during the period of their mushroom growth, in 1921.&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
To supplement these they resorted to parades, more or less public initiations, and occasiona! materializations at funerals and at church services. Often a group of Klansmen, gowned and masked, would walk up the aisle of 4 church, hand the minister a few dollars, make a speech, and walk solemnly out again. Most clergymen, whether sympathetic or not, hesitated to denounce visitors who came on such an errand and whose protestations were so angelic. The Pittsburgh pastor who a few weeks ago ordered a delegation of Klansmen to unmask or quit the building, and the ushers who promptly chased them out, un- masking several as they ran, were dramatic exceptions to the rule.&#13;
Always the Klan sought to give an inflated notion of its numbers. When it appeared in parades its members marched or rode in single file a few yards apart, so that a small number went a long way. When public initiations were held, the custom was to sum- mon Klansmen from long distances, and wherever possible to carry out the ceremonies near a clump of trees, where familiar stage devices made a few seem a multitude. An initiation of a dozen candidates might in this way pass for that of a thousand. These artifices are probably responsible for the grotesque overestimates of Klan strength. They were very effective, of course, not only in bringing in new members, but in frighten- ing away many who might have opposed the order openly had they known its true strength and weakness.&#13;
When a new field was being fertilized the Klan sent lecturers, the most notable among them in the early days being Colonel Sim- mons himself. Another was Caleb Ridley, a migratory preacher of an evangelistic turn of phrase, who is now grand chaplain of the Klan. Still another was Colonel J. Q. Nolan. These gentlemen were assisted by a shrieking Klan press, of which The Searchlight in Atlanta, Colonel Mayfield’s Weekly in Hous- ton, and Sergeant Dalton’s Weekly of Winni- field, Louisiana, are worthy illustrations. In lectures and in print the Klan spokesmen made venomous attacks upon the four classes of Americans whom they held under suspicion, giving especial attention to the Roman Catholics, whose mildest offence seemed to be a conspiracy to slaughter all non-Catholics in the population. They achieved what might have appeared the impossible feat of&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate 181&#13;
going the late Senator Tom Watson of Georgia one better. He had made Catholic- baiting profitable on a small scale; they made it a gold mine.&#13;
With such backing the salesmen found their work easy. But they did not go at it at haphazard. They began, after the manner familiar to every college student who ever sold books during vacation, by approaching the prominent citizens in each community. They went to the clergymen, the leading business men, the law- yers, the doctors, the influential farmers, the officers of the frater- nal orders, and, most important of all, the politicians and elected officials, especially the sheriffs. To each of these they held out the proper inducements. The clergymen were shown the Klan’s highly moral ritual and code, the business men and professional men were flattered as men of influence, and the politicians were made dizzy with dreams of power.&#13;
When the organizers had enlisted as many of the leading citizens as they could, they took their lists and went to the small fry, just as book agents do. Here was a fraternal order with the loftiest purposes, énveloped in a pleasing veil of hokum, giving to every mem- ber a sensation of distinction, patronized by the best people, and all for ten dollars—or, counting the regalia, sixteen dollars and fifty cents. Mr. Clarke’s hustling agents sought out the poor, the romantic, the short-witted, the bored, the vindictive, the bigoted, and the ambitious, and sold them their heart’s desire.&#13;
The incomes of the agents depended upon the number of sales they made, yet they af- fected to be extremely particular as to whose money they took. An applicant received from Atlanta an impressive form letter in which were such paragraphs as this:&#13;
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Head of the Bastrop Klan, who, although not indicted for the murders, was shown to be responsible for many minor outrages in Morehouse Parish&#13;
Of all the secret organizations and exclusive so- cieties which the world has ever known, the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan is the most secret; and before any one can pass the portals and attain full mem- bership inside the Order, we are compelled to make detailed investigations regarding the past life, traits of character, habits, and personality of the applicant, and to put the applicant through a varied number of tests which are only applied by the Ku Klux Klan, and are unknown and not used by any other secret order in connection with the ap- plication of a candidate for membership.&#13;
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Yet the common re- sult of these tests and investigations was that the applicant’s $16.50 was presently to be found in the hands of the Klan. Perhaps some appli- cants were refused ad- mission. If they were, this is one of the few really impenetrable secrets of the order.&#13;
The effects of this active canvassing soon showed themselves not only in disturbances of the peace, both in the cities and inthe ru- ral districts, but also in political develop- ments. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler were con- cerned primarily with making a living, Sim- mons with becoming a prominent figure in the world’s eyes; at all times the Klan leaders shrank back in horror when accused of dab- bling in politics; yet in one way or another the order swiftly became a political factor, first in Georgia, then in Alabama, Florida, and Texas, and to a lesser degree in Mississippi, Oklahoma, and Arkansas. In Atlanta, Birm- ingham, Houston, Dallas, Fort Worth, and else- where, the Klan had more or less sweeping and more or less transitory political successes. It elected the present Governor of Georgia; it elected a majority of the lower house of the Texas legislature last fall; it elected Earle B. Mayfield, junior senator from Texas; it cap- tured the Oklahoma legislature, although it lost the governorship; it frightened the politicians&#13;
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©lnternational Newsreel Corp.&#13;
CAPTAIN SKIPWITH&#13;
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182&#13;
of Florida so that few of them dare mention it above a whisper; it captured Pulaski county, Arkansas, and with it the city of Little Rock.&#13;
This political power is one which, in the nature of things, cannot last, and it is already past its climax, but it must still be reckoned with. Its only disability—an amusing one from some angles—-is that the Klan does not seem to know what to do with its power, ex- cept to use it, in the fashion made familiar by Tammany, to find jobs, privileges, and exemp- tions for its members, and possibly to remove from the schools a few young women who happen to be Catholics.&#13;
The social by-products of the Clarke and Tyler enterprise may be most profitably studied, per:aps, in Texas. Here its centres are Beaumont, Houston, Waco, Dallas, and Fort Worth. In the western counties it has not taken root, perhaps because the type of settler in those regions does not lend himself readily to the Klan discipline. In San An- tonio, where there is a considerable Catholic population and a strong Northern influence, the Klan’s outward manifestations have been feeble. Yet | talked with a distinguished Baptist clergyman of that city who had been persecuted by members of his own church because he dared to denounce the Klan as un-American and un-Christian. And even there the intrusion of the Klan had broken up old friendships, and brought suspicion and dislike between neighbors.&#13;
In Beaumo~ t the Klan has been very active, especially in tarring and feathering unfortun- ates who came under its moral condemnation. In Houston it at first took in nearly all “the best people,’’ but its five thousand or more members at present do not come under that category. Both in Beaumont and in Houston it flaunts itself in the public eye, and in the latter city has a clubhouse to which its mem- bers openly resort. In Houston, however, its prestige has been somewhat undermined by the presence in its ranks of spies who have a habit of contributing the minutes of its meet- ings to the Houston Chronicle. In Goose Creek, thirty miles outside of Houston, the Klan was believed to have been the inspira- tion of twenty whippings, of which the victim 4n at least one instance was a woman. In Waco, Dallas, and Fort Worth there were numerous whippings, in which private grudges frequently played a larger part than public morality.&#13;
Robert L. Duffus&#13;
é&#13;
The whippings stopped in Dallas and in Waco, somewhat more than a year ago, under circumstances which throw considerable light — on Klan psychology. In both cities the Klan’s membership was fairly well known. In both the members were given to under- stand that for each citizen thereafter whipped or abused by the Klan at least one Klansman would undergo a similar indignity. This warn- ing served its purpose, for the whippings ceased. Of course this prompt response made denials of Klan responsibility seem rather futile.&#13;
There is, in fact, abundant evidence of the Klan’s habitual lawlessness. One _illustra- tion is pertinent. The sheriff of Collin county was asked to join. He replied that he was unwilling to do so lest his oath as a Klans- man conflict with his oath of office. There- upon he was told that if the Klan contem- plated any illegal action his brother members would safeguard his conscience by carrying it out without his knowledge. A different experience was that of the sheriff of Young county, elected in 1920. This man, John Sayce by name, tacked up a notice saying that he was the supreme constituted police official, and meant to act-upon that supposition, but inviting the Klan to codperate with him in enforcing the law. He added that he would not tolerate mob violence by Klansmen or any oneelse. The Klan took this unfavorably and in 1922 defeated him by a vote of four to one.&#13;
Whippings were not, of course, the Klan’s only diversion. It resorted also to the boy- cott as a means of injuring its opponents. Many anti-Klan voters, it is said, stayed away from the polls at the Dallas election in 1922 for fear their names would be taken down and steps taken to hurt their business or profes- sional practice. A Dallas baker was boy- cotted because he used a brand of flour man- ufactured by an opponent of the Klan. Boy- cotts were also attempted against several Jewish mercantile establishments. But these failed in Dallas, as they did in Houston and other cities, when it was found that the boy- cott, like other aggressive measures, was a weapon two could use.&#13;
In this necessarily sketchy account of a very complex situation | have spoken of “the Klan” as though it were a singleminded and homogeneous organization. Such, perhaps, it did appear to outsiders, and as such it must&#13;
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How the Ku Klux Klan Sells Hate 183&#13;
be judged at the bar of public opinion. Yet it was, and is, in fact, all things to all men. In Houston it enlisted for a time the support of labor, or at least of the labor politicians; in Waco it promised employers assistance in the campaign against the labor unions; in Dallas it was organized by the head of the power and transit corporations; in Fort Worth its real head, a man who is said to dominate the Texas&#13;
or true that condemns every man who ever joined, and no campaign against the Klan is likely to succeed that does not admit the defensible motives of many who _ joined. Blanket denunciations merely force together the factions existing within the Klan ranks, and postpone the inevitable disintegration. This may. be admitted, | believe, even though it is pretty evident that whether the Klan enlists the “best peo-&#13;
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Klans, is a member of a firm representing na- tional oil, packing, and power interests, and formerly representing the brewing interests; and in many cases the man who lays the lash across the bootlegger’s back isnot improbably a bootlegger himself. In Dallas 90 per cent. of the bootleggers were said to have joined.&#13;
An astute observer listed for my benefit six classes of klansmen, as follows: (1) the organ- izers and promoters; (2) business men, who joined to get or keep trade; (3) politicians; (4) preachers, honest fanatics, and people who have been misled as to the Klan’s real inwardness; (5) the “horse play” crowd, “joiners,” men looking for excitement; (6) bootleggers, joining for protection. To this list might be added a seventh classification of those who are well aware that they were swindled, and have quietly withdrawn or lost interest without any formal resignation.&#13;
The existence of these varieties of Klans- men makes it clear why there are, relatively, good and bad Klans; why there are murders in Mer Rouge and atrocities in Goose Creek, whereas the Klansmen in the Oklahoma legislature and in Arkansas are described as being among the most intelligent and repu- table citizens; and numerous other contradic- tions. No consideration of the Klan is fair&#13;
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DR. MCKOIN&#13;
A former mayor of Mer Rouge who was arrested in All defl ais Baltimore, and was taken back to Louisiana for the Will deflate of its own hearing at Bastrop&#13;
ple” or the worst, keeps the letter of the law or openly defies it, its ultimate influ- ence is always evil. Thus this cumber- some monster of an organization, ill- planned in every way except as a means of raising money to line the pockets of kleagles, goblins, and wizards, sprawled its ungainly length across the mid- dle South, swelling to frightful proportions in 1921 and 1922, ex- hibiting an apparently great strength and vi- tality even in 1923, but ready to collapse under the prick of a pin thrust shrewdly home. Whether it&#13;
 &#13;
weakness, as the quarrel between Im- perial Wizard Evans and Emperor Simmons at this writing seems to promise, or under the thrusts of popular disapproval, remains to be seen.&#13;
In my next article | propose an apparent, although not a real digression, for the purpose of describing a movement which began in the South almost simultaneously with the Ku Klux and which is working for harmony and a genuine Americanism just as the Klan is striving for conflict and medievalism. Later I hope to take up the course of the order in the North and West, where conditions were en- countered widely different from those to be found south of the Mason and Dixon line.&#13;
A third article by Mr. Duffuss will appear in the World’s Work for July&#13;
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MARTIN JOHNSON’S AFRICAN PHOTOGRAPHS&#13;
A Series of Wild Animal Photographs, and a Big Game Hunter’s Opinion of Them&#13;
CARL E.&#13;
N MY opinion, Martin Johnson is one of the best photographers of wild life now living. Certainly the pictures he has brought back from Africa (of which those that follow are representative) are among&#13;
the best pictures of wild life in Africa that | have ever seen.&#13;
Just as photographs, they are magnificent. But, better yet, as natural history they are absolutely authentic. No one who has not had personal experience, both of African game and of African game hunters, can realize what wild ideas the latter have perpetrated about the former. These erroneous ideas range all the way from the blood-and-thunder stories of emotional hunters who have only killed and not observed, to the equally melodrama- tic and equally fake stories of cold-blooded Nature fakers, whose motive has been to capitalize popular fallacies by appealing to the public’s love of the adventurous, the marvelous, and the dangerous. Paul du Chaillu started a fashion in African story telling that seems almost impossible to correct. He made of the utterly mild and humanly inquisitive gorilla a ferocious, man-eating monster, thirsting for human blood. Other writers have made of the rhinoceros, who really is the most monumental bluffer of the animal kingdom, an entirely fearless and savagely hostile beast. This tendency to warp the facts has its origin in the egotism of the Mighty Hunter complex.&#13;
Only recently have scientists gone into the African wilds, intent upon learning the truth about the habits and characters of these mythological creatures that heated fancy had made familiar to the public mind. These men have made patient studies, accurate measurements, scientific observations. They have found most of the legends to be wrong. But they have found the truth to be as fascinating as the fairy tales, and, toa normal mind, equally exciting.&#13;
Martin Johnson’s greatest merit, therefore, is that he has produced a thrilling and popular motion picture of African wild life that is&#13;
AKELEY&#13;
also true to the facts. His animals are wild animals—not specimens borrowed from a zoo; and they are photographed in their na- tive haunts—not tied to convenient bushes in the vicinity of the zoo. And what he says about them is sound natural history. His pictures are thrilling, not because they sat- isfy the blood lust of the savage within us, but because they portray the novel and fascina- ting truth.&#13;
He had adventures, too. When I say again, what | have so often said, that African game is not dangerous to man, | mean of course that it is not dangerous to the man who does not attempt to interfere with its normal habits of life. Wild animals do not attack unoffending men. But if men trespass upon them, approach so close or under such unexpected circumstances as to make the animals think he is attacking them or viola- ting their home, then wild animals do ex- actly what self-respecting men do, and that is, fight. Now, to take photographs, at close range, of these wary and really timid crea- tures, the photographer must often approach to a position that makes the animals have this feeling of attack or intrusion. And when the animals do fight, in consequence, they are just as dangerous as the wildest stories ever written about them. And this kind of adventure, most of us who have observed African wild life at close range have had. Martin Johnson has had such adventures, and he has caught them with the motion picture camera. But it is to his credit that he has not felt that he had to falsify the facts about the wild animals in order to make his adventures more thrilling. He has told the truth, and, as usual, the truth is stranger than fiction.&#13;
It is for this reason that I am glad to en- dorse him and his pictures. And it is for this reason that the American Museum of Na- tural History, for the first time in its history, has endorsed a motion picture performance and permitted a photographer to use that official endorsement as a recommendation of his work to the public.&#13;
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© Martin Johnson&#13;
A YOUNG GERENUK&#13;
“One of the shyest and most inapproachable of the gazelles is the gerenuk. The Swahelis call it the ‘little giraffe,’&#13;
because of its long neck and its long legs. It lives in the desert or in semi-arid regions, going in pairs or in small herds&#13;
of half a dozen or so. It grazes on the dry thorny desert plants, and | have never been able to find any native or any scientist or any big-game hunter who has ever seen or heard of a gerenuk taking a drink”&#13;
 &#13;
© Martin Johnson ELEPHANTS AT A WATER HOLE NEAR LAKE PARADISE&#13;
“Mrs. Johnson and I watched the elephants of the Lake Paradise region by the hour. They came down to the deep-set water-holes slowly, carefully testing each step of the way with their feet before they trusted their great weight to it. hen they idled about in the pool, running inquisitive trunks over the surfaces of the rocks or just standing lazily, half asleep, knee deep in the water. Our boys had many tales to tell us of the elephants. They said that an enraged elephant would pull up a tree by the roots and use it as a weapon; natives who had been attacked by elephants showed the scars of wounds that they really believed to have been made by such gigantic clubs. And we heard that somewhere in Africa was a great elephant with four tusks, two turning up and two turning down, and another whose tusks trailed on the ground, and still another whose tusks were so heavy that two young bulls had to accompany him, one on each side, to help him carry them”&#13;
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~~ ; © Martin Johnson&#13;
A TYPICAL AFRICAN LANDSCAPE&#13;
“The lovely Guaso Nyiro River, at the edge of the Kaiseet desert, was a good place for fishing but a poor place for photo- graphing animals. It never pays to set up a camera on a river bank, for if, as usually happens, the animals become suspicious of the presence of the photographer, they can simply withdraw and drink in safety, well beyond his range. The ideal spot for hunting with a camera is a water hole several miles distant from any other water. The photographer may have to wait several days for his quarry, but in the end thirst conquers fear, and the animals come to drink”&#13;
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McADOO'S CHANCES FOR THE DEMOCRATIC NOMINATION&#13;
The Influence That Woodrow Wilson May Bring to Bear on the Democratic Nomination and Its Relation to McAdoo. Other Po- litical Factors Affecting the Former Secretary of the Treasury&#13;
By MARK&#13;
IRST of all, Wilson. Not that there&#13;
is the faintest possibility of his being&#13;
the Democratic nominee, but be-&#13;
cause he will certainly have some&#13;
influence in determining the plat- form, because he may influence the choice of the candidate, and because he provides a convenient introduction to the discussion of another personality who at this moment is probably a little farther in the lead than any other Democratic possibility.&#13;
However, the present purpose is merely to speak of Mr. Wilson’s relation to the coming Democratic Presidential situation. To do that adequately, it is desirable to describe his relation to the Democratic nomination of 1920. One feels a little venturesome in pro- posing to “describe Wilson’s relation to the Democratic nomination of 1920.” That is a thing which | am not sure any one can do adequately.&#13;
Many persons thought that Wilson wanted that 1920 nomination for himself. Some thought it cynically; some thought it sympa- thetically. The present writer did not think it at all, except in a sense to be explained in a moment. It is a fact that many of Mr. Wilson’s actions during the months preceding the San Francisco Convention (and even more strongly, many of his reticences, his re- fraining from actions which the circum- stances seemed to call for) were such as to justify the sense of inscrutability, the highly charged atmosphere of surmise and specula- tion which surrounded his attitude. In that 1920 pre-convention campaign for the Demo- cratic nomination, there were two candidates who were universally regarded as obvious, and who in the later stages cut so large a figure that each of them got close to half the dele- gates. One was a member of Mr. Wilson’s cabinet, Attorney-General Palmer. Another&#13;
SULLIVAN&#13;
was Mr. Wilson’s son-in-law and formerly a member of his cabinet, Mr. McAdoo. And it is a fact that for months—months during which every necessity of their ambitions called on them to announce their candidacy, to give the word their friends clamored for, and to take active steps—during those months both men remained silent; and the cause of their self-enforced silence was ap- prehension lest Mr. Wilson might disapprove. One of them, Mr. McAdoo, never did venture to announce his candidacy. Even to persons so well equipped as they to know, or infer, what Mr. Wilson wanted, even to such a con- centration of intelligence as their self-interest must have caused them to focus on the ques- tion, the answer remained one with the Sphinx. It is not necessary to assume, of course, that the fears of these men were based on the suspicion that Mr. Wilson might want the nomination for himself. Their apprehensions may well have dwelt on the possibility that he had some man in mind other than himself, and other than them. Or they may have apprehended that Mr. Wilson, without having in mind either himself or any other definite person, might yet have had cer- tain specifications, especially about the candi- date’s relation to the issue of the League of Nations. And in Mr. McAdoo’s case, there were additional possible reasons for appre- hension lest Mr. Wilson might not approve of his running, reasons which will be alluded to in a moment.&#13;
All this is wholly im the world of surmise and speculation. Neither as to himself, or as to any other man, did Wilson ever give a sign either that he wanted the renomination himself, or that he had any preference among the other aspirants. Even the most promi- nent Democratic leaders, and even Wilson’s most intimate friends, the men who saw him&#13;
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194&#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
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and talked to him frequently, never had an inkling about what his wishes might be. They used to call on him and talk with him and go away baffled. They would seek out other persons who had talked with him and compare notes. But they never were able to come to any conclusion, and the present writer fully believes that there is not a living man who can say whether Wilson had any wishes about the 1920 convention, or what those wishes were. Whether Wilson may have wanted the 1920 nomination himself or may have hoped that whether he wanted it or not, and whether or not he would care to accept it, it might be tendered to him as a mark of confidence in himself and as an endorsement of the great policy in which his heart was en- gaged, the League of Nations— as to all that, whatever may have gone on in Mr. Wilson’s mind, no human being knows. It was wholly a thing that took place within the boundaries of his own skull, and he kept it within those limits. The only tangible thing the present writer ever ran across in the course of a rather close contact with the situation, was an episode that happened about the time the convention was actually getting under way. There was a long-distance wire from the White House to San Francisco. Over this wire at least one person in the conven- tion, the Democratic chairman, Homer S. Cummings, used occasionally to send mes- sages to Wilson. (There may have been one other person in San Francisco who had ac- cess to this wire, but very probably not more than one at most in addition to Cummings). Wilson himself never talked over the wire, but merely received messages. Such mes- sages or information as he sent back to San Francisco had to do wholly with the platform and similar matters, and never with the choice of the candidate. At one point during the transmission of these messages Mr. Wilson commanded the man at the White House end of the wire that he must never attempt to influence the choice of a candidate “by so&#13;
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and a&#13;
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possible&#13;
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© Underwood &amp; Underwood WILLIAM GIBBS MCADOO Formerly Secretary of the Treasury, son-in-law of Ex-President Wilson,&#13;
Democratic nominee for the Presidency in 1924&#13;
much as the raising of a finger.” As narrated to the writer, Mr. Wilson’s manner in laying down this injunction, was emphatically im- pressive. He repeated twice the phrase, “Not by so much as the raising of a finger.” At this point, before taking up the case of another person, and of the present situation generaliy, it may be well to finish with Mr. Wilson by speaking of his present relation to the coming 1924 campaign. It is a fact that Wilson’s health is improved. That is obvious to everybody in Washington who happens to see him in his occasional drives or on his visits to the theatre. It is even more obvious to those intimates who occasionally call on him. It is also true that Wilson takes the keenest interest in public affairs, that he reads much, and occasionally makes notes of his reflections on his reading. But deci- dedly the overwhelming judgment is that Wilson is not now, and will not be by&#13;
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McAdoo’s Chances for the Democratic Nomination 195&#13;
1924, in such a state of health as to justify his being a candidate for the presidency. This conviction is shared, though with regret, by even the most ardent of the Wilson devotees.&#13;
But while it can be taken for granted that Wilson will not personally be available for renomination, there remains a broad field in which he can be active, and in some parts of which he probably will be active. He can be active in the selection of the candidate and he can be active in the making of the party’s policy. Whether he will be active in the se- lecting of the candidate is perhaps more doubtful than whether he will be active in laying a hand on the making of the platform. For one thing, many Democrats who are most averse to Mr. Wilson having any say in the choice of the candidate, would nevertheless be glad to have his help in the laying down of party policies. These Democrats who have no particular kindliness for Mr. Wilson person- ally, and even a decided feeling that the Wilson brand on the candidate would be unfortunate, nevertheless would regard his help in the writ- ing of a platform as an asset. There are practical: politicians, who themselves func- tion best in the field of organization, and in the other more severely practical aspects of politics, but who recognize that politics has an intellectual phase, and like to have some- one to rely on in the réle of what they would describe crudely as “an intellectual expert” in the same sense that they would speak of a “financial expert.” And for Woodrow Wilson in this role they have a most extravagant re- gard. They recall his state papers, the “Fourteen Points” that gripped the imagi- nation of the world, his letters to the German Government, his addresses to Congress leading up to the war, the mere phrases and detached sentences with which he was able to catch universal attention and swing the course of events. Having the memory of all this in mind, they would like nothing better than to have the benefit of Wilson’s ability in picking out great issues, and phrasing those issues so happily as to arouse the emotions of the electorate.&#13;
Because of all this, and also because there must flow from Mr. Wilson personally the wish to have certain ideas near to his heart put into the campaign (it would be more accurate to say his unwillingness to have the campaign go by without taking account of his ideas), it is probable that as the 1924 con-&#13;
vention approaches there will come from Mr. Wilson public statements, letters—and even public addresses are not wholly impossible— looking to what the platform should be, or at least a portion of it. It is easy to conceive of Mr. Wilson, a few weeks before the 1924 Democratic convention, picking out one of those convenient friends to whom he some- times addresses letters meant ultimately for wider reading, and writing a letter stating his views on the platform. Such a message from Wilson, while it would purport to direct it- self wholly to the matter of platform, might readily, if well laid out with relation to the aspirants for the nomination, go far toward cutting the cloth of the suit which the candi- date should fit.&#13;
It should be said in some qualification of all this that while many Democrats would be glad to have the benefit of Wilson’s ideas on the platform, and the benefit of his thought and gift of speech, there is one aspect of the party platform about which they are timorous as to Mr. Wilson’s dictation. Every Demo- crat knows that the party next year must take some position or other on international relations. That position may lie anywhere between the extreme of standing for the League of Nations as originally written, the same as they stood for it in 1920; and the ex- treme of being silent on this subject. Many of the Democratic leaders would be dis- mayed at the idea of duplicating their posi- tion of 1920, because they fear that the du- plication of attitude on the League of Nations might lead to a duplication of the disastrous result in the election. At least this is their feeling just now. And yet the vitality of the sentiment for international codperation, for steps toward permanent peace, is such that even the most practical politician has mo- ments when he is willing to admit it as among the possibilities that in 1924 there might flare up again such an emotion of idealism as would make the League of Nations, not the liability that it was in 1920, but rather the asset it was in, let us say, the early part of 19109, when Wilson first brought it to America, and when a majority of the people, including most of the Republican leaders, were in favor of it. Nevertheless, it is with fear rather than with hope that most of the more practi- cal, the more “hard-boiled’’ Democratic leaders, look forward to what Wilson may do of his own initiative in the way of laying&#13;
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down the law on what the Democratic posi- tion on foreign relations in 1924 must be.&#13;
Let us now turn from Mr. Wilson to his son-in-law, Mr. McAdoo. And the first thing to say is that in doing this, in phrasing it this way, in coupling the two names, there is the appearance of an unfairness which must be specifically disavowed and cleared away. The very act of writing about the two men in the same article tends to add to the mo- mentum of an implication, entirely false and unfair to both men, which implication was the greatest handicap under which McAdoo suffered in 1920, a handicap but for which he might readily have got the nomination. This handicap to McAdoo had great weight in 1920. It cannot have so much in 1924, but it is the business of a fair person to try to see to it that it should have none; for it does not exist in truth, and therefore ought not to be permitted to be used by McAdoo’s opponents. This handicap to McAdoo in 1920 centred around the fact, already alluded to, that he was not an avowed candidate. At no time did he say that he was a candidate; at no time did he authorize anybody to speak for him or act for him. Even during the height of the 1920 convention, when the McAdoo leaders were almost frantic with excited clamoring for a word from him, he refused to talk with them over the long-distance ’phone.&#13;
And this handicap of Mr. McAdoo’s own silence rested in turn on what has already been suggested in dealing with Mr. Wilson, in the earlier part of this article. The reason for Mr. McAdoo’s silence lay almost wholly in the fact that he was Woodrow Wilson’s son- in-law, that Wilson was in the White House, and in the questions of taste and propriety which arose out of this relationship. As | have already said, there were plenty among the cynical who said that McAdoo’s hesitancy about announcing himself in 1920 was due to apprehension that Wilson might want the nomination for himself, or might expect that the convention would, by a generous gesture, offer him the nomination and give him the opportunity of declining it. But it is not necessary to be so cynical as to assume that because McAdoo refrained from announcing himself, and refrained out of consideration for his relation to Wilson, it was this particular phase of the relationship that held him back. We can assume another reason, based, it is true, on the relationship of the two men, but&#13;
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Mark Sullivan&#13;
on a different aspect of that relationship. We can take it for granted that McAdoo feared, not his father-in-law’s selfishness, not his jealousy, but rather his rigid standards of good taste and propriety.&#13;
McAdoo in 1920 undoubtedly took into account the certainty that if he should an- nounce himself as a candidate while his father-in-law was in the White House, it would be said that he was a “dynastic” can- didate. He may even have had a fear that if he should announce himself formally, his father-in-law in the White House would take some public step in deprecation of it. Mr. Wilson’s austerity, his sense of propriety in public matters, his trait of going his own gait according to his own ideas, is very thoroughgoing. It is not modified by even so appealing a condition as the fact that the man affected by his austerity happens to be the husband of his daughter. If McAdoo had formally announced himself as a candidate in 1920, Wilson would not have hesitated to take some formal public action adverse to his son-in-law, if he thought the conditions called for it.&#13;
Of course it is not asserted, necessarily, that the questions of taste and propriety in- volved in Wilson’s personal relationship to McAdoo, compose the whole of Wilson’s re- flections about the desirability of McAdoo as a Democratic candidate either in 1920 or in 1924. In addition to that, Wilson may have had in 1920, or may have in 1924, notions about the ideal Democratic candidate which McAdoo does not happen to come up to. Indeed, the current gossip, in the circles best informed is that Wilson to-day is no more in- clined to coéperate toward getting the presi- dency for his son-in-law than he was in 1920. In fact, indifference toward his son-in-law’s elevation is the mildest of the words used to describe the state of mind attributed to him.&#13;
Nevertheless, Wilson is not and cannot be the handicap to McAdoo that he was in 1920. After the interval of four years, McAdoo suffers no longer under the aspersion that it is a case of a man in the White House trying to perpetuate a dynasty. In that year, partly he was unwilling to avow himself as a candi- date for fear the action might be displeasing to Wilson; and partly he was compelled to anticipate that if he should announce his candidacy, his enemies would make the most of the assumption, whether false or true, that&#13;
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McAdoo’s Chances for the Democratic Nomination&#13;
he was being forced on the country by the White House. (The first of these reasons destroys the second. Nevertheless, McAdoo had to take account of both). The Republi- cans in 1920 fully hoped to make the most of this kind of charge. They both feared and hoped that McAdoo would be the candidate. They feared it because they knew he would be a vigorous cam- paigner, and a figure whose dashing gal- lantry would attract the public. They hoped it because they knew they could use against him the dynas- ticargument, and they already had their ar- mories provided with such epithets as “Crown Prince” and “perpetuating the dynasty.”&#13;
If McAdoo was able to make the showing he did make in 1920, under the handicap of not avowing his can- didacy and the other handicaps associated with what was then his relation to the White House, it is clear that he can do better in 1924. There were in 1920 great groups of the Democratic masses&#13;
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197&#13;
There was another and wholly different handicap that McAdoo suffered under in 1920. That was the fact that he wasa citizen of New York, and that the Democratic or- ganization of that state was violently opposed to him. It is almost a political axiom that a man cannot get his party’s nomination for the Presidency without the initial impulse that comes from en- dorsement by his own state organization. The New York State organization hated McAdoo, partly for himself, and hated him partly, also, for his re- lation to Wilson. The organization had never got along either with Wilson as President or with McAdoo as Sec- retary of the Treasury. Wilson, in his appoint- ments to office, was pointedly neglectful of the party organization in NewYork. McAdoo was almost equally so. The result was that McAdoo was not able at any time to com- mand more than a scant ten or a dozen of New York’s_ ninety delegates, even when the delegation was not&#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood voting as a unit.&#13;
who would have been glad to swingin behind McAdoo, but were de- terred and chilled by his silence. Even of more weight, there&#13;
MRS. MCADOO&#13;
Formerly Eleanor Wilson, daughter of the ex-president.&#13;
Because Mr. McAdoo is a son-in-law of Woodrow Wilson&#13;
he was called, when he was suggested (without his permis-&#13;
sion) for the 1920 nomination for President, the “Crown&#13;
Prince.” Opposition to him in 1924 because of his rela-&#13;
tionship to the former president, however, is likely to be insignificant.&#13;
This handicap Mc- Adoo has lifted from himself by the simple device of moving to California. When Mc- Adoo made this change&#13;
were important Dem-&#13;
ocratic leaders who wanted McAdoo to have the nomination, but who were unable to raise a hand, partly because they could get no word from him, and partly because they too, being friends of Wilson, had the same fear that McAdoo had, lest Wilson should take their activity as an offence. All this no longer exists. McAdoo in 1924 will stand on his own feet, and will be able to avail himself of his natural strength, and of the help of all his friends.&#13;
of residence it was given out that he was going to Los Angeles because there was better promise for a budding lawyer in that community. It was also said, and well understood to be a fact, that McAdoo suffers from a slight irritation of the bronchial tubes, which amounts to nothing, but which is provoked to the point of a small inconvenience by the harsh east winds of New York’s winters. But the cynical among us were ready to say, and even the humorously friendly among us counted it as an entirely harmless political&#13;
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euphemism, that Mr. McAdoo’s change of resi- dence was suggested no less by the greater salubrity of the California climate, than by the greater political salubrity of the Cali- fornia Democratic organization.&#13;
If McAdoo, laboring under these handi- caps, was able to make the showing he did in 1920, then clearly he should do better in 1924 It might almost be&#13;
 &#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
To a con- siderable extent their following is identical. For example, many persons want McAdoo because they think he could manage the rail-&#13;
Ford that they overlap each other.&#13;
roads well. But the same persons think that Ford could manage the railroads well. Much, perhaps most, of the progressive sentiment in the Democratic party looks kindly on&#13;
. McAdoo. But at the&#13;
 &#13;
said that McAdoo is certain to have more delegates in the 1924 convention than he had in the 1920 one. And inasmuch as Mc- Adoo at one point in the 1920 convention, reached upward of 400 delegates, it is clear that on the assumption that he is more favor- ably situated this year, he should have close to half the total number of delegates in the convention, which total is 1089. This last sentence would be a pretty formidable statement of Mc- Adoo’s present strength if it were not for two qualifications. The first is that ina Democratic conven- tion a mere majority of the delegates is not sufficient to nominate. The Democratic rule is that two-thirds are required. (In Repub- lican conventions a mere majority is enough.)&#13;
The other qualifications to the prediction that McAdoo will have half of the delegates next year, centres about Henry Ford. If Henry Ford becomes active, or if his present large but unorganized following should find a leadership able to make itself effective in the primaries and otherwise, then in that event Ford may get a good many of the delegates who otherwise would go to McAdoo. If Ford were not in the situation, it would be possible to predict with a good deal of cer- tainty that McAdoo would enter the con- vention with a full half of the delegates. But it is the handicap both of McAdoo and of&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
WILLIAM GIBBS MCADOO At the age of three&#13;
same time, much of that sentiment in the farming states of the Middle West looks with asmuchor greater kindliness on Henry Ford.&#13;
Aside from these qualifications, if you consider the handicaps under which he was in 1920, consider also that in spite of those hand- icaps he had upward of 400 out of the 1089 delegates, and consider finally that McAdoo this year is free from those handicaps of 1920, then it is neces- sary to admit the strength of his present position.&#13;
But while McAdoo’s position is greatly im- proved as compared with 1920, he still hasa residuum of implac- able opposition. This opposition comes from the “old guard” type of Democratic organ- ization leader. These leaders in other states than New York have the same grievance against McAdoo that the New York leaders had. Most of it comes down to patronage. Organization leaders in both parties think that appointments of postmasters, marshals, judges, and the like, should always be made on the recommendation of the local leaders; and the recommendations of the local leaders usually put party serviceability first, and take the matter of efficiency for granted. This point-of-view McAdoo used to ignore. From the standpoint of the high-brow, the civil service reformer and the like, the implacable opposition to McAdoo by some&#13;
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McAdoo’s Chances for the Democratic Nomination&#13;
organization leaders is an asset to his credit. McAdoo as Secretary of the Trea- sury had a great quantity of patronage to give out; as to most of it he proceeded along lines which kept the wishes of the local party organization secondary to other considera- tions. It was during McAdoo’s administra- tion of the Treasury that the Federal Reserve System was put into operation. And in the selection of local directors and local officials, McAdoo ignored politics in favor of banking experience and efficiency, to a degree which accounts for much of the intensity of op- position to him on the part of the old guard leaders. In the 1920 convention, a certain Western state had twenty-six delegates. Of the twenty-six, eleven were ardently de- sirous of McAdoo’s nomination. But fifteen of them were of the old guard type, wholly under the domination of a “hard-boiled,” old guard, state leader.. This leader was a man of such determination of personality that he was able to enforce the unit rule, and con- tinued to cast twenty-six votes against McAdoo to the end.&#13;
Aside from leaders and details of organiza- tion, McAdoo’s favor with the people at large rests on a certain impression of him that has got abroad as a man of activity, of quick de- cision—a gallant fighting personality alto- gether. There is a bit of political verse which reflects this popular picture of McAdoo. It was written at the time he was closing his term as Secretary of the Treasury. The writer of the present article first saw it in the shape of a typewritten sheet of paper which was passed from hand to hand here in Wash- ington for such amusement as it might give to the inner circles. Since that time, the present writer has published this bit of verse widely in a syndicate of newspapers, coupled with a request that whoever wrote it should come forward and admit the possession of so much cleverness as the verses prove. No one, however, has claimed the authorship, and so far as the writer of this article can find out, it is still unknown. The verse is re- printed here for the appropriateness it has, partly as a clever bit of political satire, and partly as a picture of McAdoo:&#13;
“The Who, preéminently Who,&#13;
Is William Gibbs, the McAdoo.&#13;
(Whom I should like to hail, but daren’t, As Royal Prince and Heir Apparent.)&#13;
A man of high Intrinsic Worth,&#13;
The Greatest Son-in-law on Earth— With all the burdens thence accruing, He’s always up and McAdooing. From Sun to Star and Star to Sun,&#13;
His work is never McAdone.&#13;
He regulates our Circumstances,&#13;
Our Buildings, Industries, Finances, And Railways, while the wires buzz To tell us what he McAdoes.&#13;
He gave us (Heaven bless the Giver) The tubes beneath the Hudson River. I don’t believe he ever hid&#13;
A. single thing he McAdid!&#13;
His name appears on Scrip and Tissue, On bonds of each succeeding issue,&#13;
On coupons bright and posters rare, And every Pullman Bill of Fare.&#13;
Postscript.&#13;
But while with sympathetic croodlings, I. sing his varied McAdoodlings,&#13;
And write these eulogistic lines,&#13;
That thankless McAdoo resigns.”’&#13;
Aside from the picture these verses give of McAdoo as a man of action, a “go-getter,”’ there is an allusion to one of the things that is a great asset to him as a Presidential as- pirant. These verses hint that the wide- spread advertising McAdoo received as Secre- tary of the Treasury, when the Liberty Loan drives brought the Treasury and its head to the attention of the farthest hamlet, and also as head of the railroads during the period of government management, was not wholly guileless. Whether casually or by design, whether with a view to future am- bitions, or because of the devoted zeal of the young men he had about him. (It was a trait of McAdoo’s personality to inspire de- voted personal loyalty among his assistants), it is a fact that the name of William G. McAdoo was not kept under a bushel. That conspicuous reiteration of it on railroad time- tables, Liberty Loan posters, Pullman bills-of- fare and the like, makes him to-day the most widely-advertised of all the regular Demo- cratic aspirants, the name most familiar to the public. And this mere familiarity of his name makes it greatly easier for his friends, gives them an initial impulse as against all others—except Henry Ford—in any primary fight that may develop for the delegates in any state. The widespread familiarity with the names of William McAdoo and Henry Ford is a mere accident of their careers. It has nothing to do with statesmanship, or&#13;
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200&#13;
with qualifications for the presidency. But under the direct primary system, it has great practical weight.&#13;
McAdoo’s support from the mass of the people is based on that mysterious appraisal of personality which goes on as to every pub- lic man. They think of him as gallant, dash- ing, a fighter, vital, impetuous. Aside from such general support as he has from the public as a whole, there are certain definite groups who are aggressively in favor of him. Of these, probably the chief is the railroad workers. The railway unions liked the way McAdoo ran the railroads when he was in charge of them during the war—however much dispute of judgment there may be about that on the part of others. McAdoo’s op- ponents are prone to sneer that the reason the railroad workers favor McAdoo is that he raised their wages. But there was more to it than this. McAdoo did raise the wages of the railroad workers. To a degree this was a mere formality called for by changing conditions. The war was a period of rising prices, and readjustments of wage scales were in order. McAdoo’s critics, however, claim that he went much farther than merely to raise the wages of the railroad workers to a point where they participated equitably in the universal rise. In this criticism there is much justice. Any wholesale readjustment of wages and working conditions dictated by one man from Washington on a rule-of-thumb basis, which looked upon all sections of the country alike, necessarily included many of the mistakes inherent in every effort to manage anything whatever from Washing- ton on a country-wide basis. Some of Mc- Adoo’s raises of wages, some of his rearrange- ments of working conditions, worked out in ways that were grotesque in their ex- travagance.&#13;
But there is more to the railroad workers’ liking for McAdoo than the mere fact that they got higher wages from him. In the af- fection they acquired for McAdoo and still have for him, there was something of that spirit which flows from all workers toward any natural leader of men—something of that devotion and that capacity for hard work that goes with the mere fact that the man at the top is a high-spirited person who generates the sort of atmosphere that enlists loyalty. McAdoo is a “do-er,” and it is that in- tangible but vital quality of his person-&#13;
 &#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
ality that causes the railroad workers as well as many others to have warmth of feel- ing for him.&#13;
One of the things that McAdoo did as head of the railroad administration has had curious consequences, and, if he should be nominated for the presidency, might have a striking po- litical result. Among other things, McAdoo decreed what he called “equal wages for equa! work.” In the South this meant that colored brakemen and colored fireman should get the same wages as white brakemen and white firemen. Under the private administration of the railroads this had not been the case. It had been the rule to hire workers for what- ever wages it was necessary to pay in order to get them; and as the railroad manage- ments in the South could get colored workers cheaper than white workers, they paid lower wages to the former. This action of McAdoo in equalizing wages appealed to the colored workers as the tangible sign of a fundamental sense of justice. The incident has been passed by word of mouth to every colored community in the United States; and the re- sult is that McAdoo has among his personal following more colored men than probably any Democrat since the Cival War. The difficulty of persuading a colored man to vote for a Democrat is well-known and axio- matic in politics. Democratic Senators and other Democratic public men in the South will tell you of relations with colored servants and colored dependents which, on the personal side, are of the utmost intimacy and de- votion. They will tell you of colored men who will endure danger for them, will fight for them, would cheerfully commit perjury for them, or go to jail for them. But there is one point at which this devotion always stops. On election day, the most devoted Negro friend of a Democratic politician will not go to the polls and vote for him. But McAdoo’s action in equalizing wages has probably gone farther toward -chang- ing this intense fidelity of the colored voters to the Republican party than anything else that has ever happened. A traveler in Mississippi not long ago got a good laugh out of finding a little colored boy who was named “William McAdoo Black,” a sign of honor and affection more frequent in the case of Republican candidates for the presidency than Democratic ones. This devotion of considerable numbers of Negroes to McAdoo&#13;
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McAdoo’s Chances for the Democratic Nomination&#13;
 &#13;
MR. AND MRS. McADOO With their two children&#13;
might readily be a decisive asset to him if he should win the Democratic nomination. If ever a Democratic leader arises, or if ever any condition develops, which will cause the colored voters of the North to vote Demo- cratic, or even to distribute their votes nor- mally between the parties, it will be such a disaster to the Republican party as it will feel for many a year. It is a fact that the colored communities of cities like Cincinnati, Cleveland, Indianapolis, and St. Louis are the deciding factors in the question of how those big doubtful states of Ohio, Indiana, and Missouri go in any election. In any election in which these large colored com- munities should vote the Democratic ticket, it would be fatal to Republican success in those states; and if fatal to Republican suc- cess inf those states, it would be close to fatal in the country as a whole. The figures would undoubtedly show that in any election since the Civil War, the majority by which the Republican party carried these doubtful&#13;
states was roughly a little less than the colored vote, which is the same as to say that if these colored communities should swing to a Democratic candidate, it would make the greatest difference in the results of any na- tional election. And these colored communi- ties in the big railroad centres of Indianapolis, St. Louis, and Cincinnati, happen to include groups of colored railroad workers to such an extent as probably to determine largely the attitude of the whole.&#13;
This article, the reader will recognize, does not purport to be any attempt at a balanced portrait of Mr. McAdoo. It is rather a dis- cussion of the practical aspects of his present relation to the 1924 situation. Any attempt at fair and accurate characterization would need to take account of certain of his out- standing qualities which affect different ob- servers in different ways according to their temperaments, making of some of them the most devoted partisans, and of others, violent critics.&#13;
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ACTORS AND AUTHORS AND SUCH&#13;
lV My Meetings with Beerbohm Tree, Sarah Bernhardt, G. K. Chester-&#13;
ton, and E. W. Hornung.&#13;
CAME to know Beerbohm Tree, in many ways the greatest, and in more ways the worst, of our English actors. He was playing Caliban in “The Tempest” when I sought an interview with him on the subject of Shakespeare.&#13;
“Shakespeare! Shapespeare!”’ he said, leering at me with a beast-like face, ac- cording to the part he was playing, and claw- ing himself with ape-like hands. “I seem to have heard that name. Is there anything | can say about him? No, there is nothing. I’ve said all | know a thousand times, and more than | know more times than that.”&#13;
He could think of nothing to say about Shakespeare, but suggested that | should run away and write what I liked. I did, and it was at least a year before the article was published in a series of provincial papers, a long article in which | wrote all that | thought Tree ought to say, if he loved Shake- speare with anything like my own passion.&#13;
One evening | received a long telegram from him.&#13;
“Honor me by accepting two stalls any night at His Majesty’s and kindly call on me between the acts.”&#13;
| accepted the invitation, wondering at its effusiveness. When I called on him, he was playing Brutus, and clasped my hand as though he loved me.&#13;
“Little do you know the service you have done me,” he said. “My secretary told me the other night that | was booked for a lecture on Shakespeare at the Regent Street Poly-&#13;
technic. | had forgotten it. I had nothing prepared. It was a dreadful nuisance. | said “| won’t go.”’ He said, “I’m afraid you must.” Two minutes later a bundle&#13;
of press cuttings was brought to me. It con- tained your interview with me on the subject of Shakespeare. | read it with delight. | had no idea | had said all those things. What a memory you must have! I took the paper&#13;
     &#13;
 &#13;
Further Adventures of a Journalist By PHILIP GIBBS&#13;
to the Polytechnic, and delivered my lecture, by reading it word for word.”&#13;
After that | met Tree many times, and he never forgot that little service. In return he invited me to the Garrick Club, or to his great room at the top of His Majesty’s, and told me innumerable anecdotes which were vastly entertaining. He hada rich store of them and told them with a ripe humor and dramatic genius which revealed him at his best. His acting was marred by affectations that be- came exasperating, and sometimes by loss of memory and sheer carelessness. | have seen him actually asleep on the stage. It was&#13;
when he played-the part of Fagin in “Oliver ~&#13;
Twist,” and in a scene- where he had to sit crouched below a bridge, waiting for Bill Sikes, he dozed off, wakened with a start, and missed his cue.&#13;
Tree’s egotism was almost a disease, and in his last years his vanity and pretentiousness obscured his real genius. He was a great old showman, and at rehearsals it was remarkable how he could pull a crowd together and build up a big picture or intensify a dramatic mo- ment by some touch of “business.” But he played to the gallery all the time, and made a pantomime of Shakespeare—to the horror of the Germans when he appeared in Berlin! They would not tolerate him, and were scan- dalised that such liberties should be taken with Shakespearian drama, which they have adopted as their own.&#13;
Another great figure of the stage whom | met behind the scenes was Sarah Bernhardt, when she appeared at the Coliseum in Lon- don. She took the part of Adrienne Lecou- vreur, in which she was an unconscionable time a-dying, after storms of agony and mad passion. | had an appointment to meet her in her room after the play, and slipped round behind the scenes before she left the stage. Her exit was astonishing and touching. The whole company of the Coliseum and _ its&#13;
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AH 0 FFs |=&#13;
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eS FS F&#13;
a Ve Se&#13;
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Actors and Authors and Such 203&#13;
fatigued. My words angered her instantly, as though they reflected upon her age.&#13;
“Sir,” she said harshly, “Il was as much fatigued when | first played that scene. Was it thirty years ago, or fortyP—I have for- gotten. It is the exhaustion of art, and not of nature.”&#13;
For several years while | was in Fleet Street, | lived opposite Battersea Park, in a row of high dwellings stretching for about a mile, and called Overstrand Mansions, Prince of Wales Mansions, and York Mansions. Nearly all the people in the road were of liter- ary, artistic, or theatrical avocations, either hoping to arrive at fame and fortune, or re- duced in circumstances after brief glory. The former class were in the great majority, and were youngish people, with youngish wives,&#13;
                                          &#13;
 &#13;
SIR HERBERT TREE&#13;
As Shylock in The Merchant of Venice&#13;
variety show, acrobats, jugglers, “funny” men, dancing girls, “‘star turns”’—had lined up in a double row to await this Queen of Tragedy, with homage. As_ she came off the stage, ‘George Robey, with his ted nose and ridiculous little hat, gravely offered his arm, with the air of Walter Raleigh in the presence of Queen Eliza- beth. She leaned heavily on his arm, and almost collapsed in the chair to which he led her. She was panting after her prolonged display of agony before the foot- lights, and for a moment | thought she was really dying.&#13;
| bent over her and said in French that I re- An actor of real genius whose carelessness and gretted she was so much egotism marred his otherwise brilliant stage career&#13;
SIR HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE&#13;
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204&#13;
and occasionally, but not often, a baby on the balcony. G. K. Chesterton, who lived in the Overstrand Mansions, immediately over my head—I used to pray to God that he would not fall through—once remarked that if he ever had the good fortune to be shipwrecked on a desert island, he would like it to be with the entire population of the Prince of Wales Road, whom he thought the most interesting collec- tion of people in the world. | thought so too, and wrote a very bad novel about them, called “Intellectual Mansions, S. W.” That book appeared in the time of the militant Suffra- gettes, who were playing hell in London, and as my chief lady character happened to be a suffragette, they claimed it as their own, bought up the whole edition, bound it in their colors of purple, green, and white, and killed it stone dead.&#13;
| came to know G. K. Chesterton at that time and every time | saw him, admired more profoundly his great range of knowledge, his immense wit and fancy, his genial, jolly, and&#13;
GILBERT K. CHESTERTON&#13;
© Paul Thompson&#13;
As he appeared on his last visit to America&#13;
Philip Gibbs&#13;
passionately sincere idealism. From my ground-floor flat, every morning at ten I used to observe a certain ritual in his life. There appeared an old hansom cab, with an old horse and an old driver. This would be kept waiting for half an hour. Then G. K. C. would descend, a spacious and splendid figure in a big cloak and a slouch hat, like a brigand about to set forth on a great adventure, and though he was bound no further than Fleet Street, it was adventure enough, leading to great flights of fancy and derring-do. After him came Mrs. Chesterton, a little figure al- most hidden by her husband’s greatness. When Chesterton got into the cab, the old horse used to stagger in its shafts, and the old cab used to rock like a boat in a rough sea.&#13;
At luncheon time | often used to see G. K. C. in an Italian restaurant in Fleet Street where, with a bottle of port wine at his elbow, and a scribbling pad at his side, he used to write one of his articles for the Daily News, chuckling mightily over some happy paradox, which had just taken shape in his brain, and totally uncon- scious of any public observation of his private mirth.&#13;
As literary editor of The Tri- bune, | tried to buy Chesterton away from The Daily News, at double the price they paid him, but he was proof against this temptation. “The Daily News has been very good to me,” he said, “and though | loathe their point of view on many subjects, I’m not going to desert them now.” He agreed, however, to contribute to The Tribune from time to time, and as | had ar- ranged the matter, he had a kindly feeling toward me which led to an embarrassing but splendid moment in my life. At a preliminary banquet given by the proprietor of that un- fortunate paper to a crowd of distinguished people who ut- terly neglected to buy it, G. K. Chesterton sat, as one of the chief guests, at the high table. I had been obscurely placed at the back of the room, and this distressed the noble and gen- erous soul of my good friend.&#13;
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Actors and Authors and Such&#13;
When he was asked to speak, he made some general and excellent observations, and then uttered such a panegyric of me that I was dissolved in blushes, especially when he raised his glass and asked the company to drink to me. Some of them, including the proprietor, were not altogether pleased with this demonstration in my favor, but, needless to say, I cherish it.&#13;
Among my happy recollections of G. K. C. is one day at luncheon hour when he was “suyed” by a group of factory girls in Fleet Street and took their playfulness with jovial humor, careless of his dignity; and an even- ing at the Guildhall when King Albert of Belgium was the guest, and | encountered Chesterton afterward wandering in the courtyard like the restless ghost of a wander- ing cavalier, afraid to demand his hat from the flunkeys because he had not the necessary shilling with which to tip them.&#13;
Chesterton is one of the grand figures of literary England, and will live in the history of our own time as one of the wittiest and wisest men, worthy of a place in the portrait gallery of the immortals. His great figure, his&#13;
overflowing humor, his splendid simplicity of faith in the ancient code of liberty and&#13;
truth, put him head and shoulders above the standardised type of little “intellectuals” with whom the world is crowded.&#13;
| have the pleasantest recollections of “Intellectual Mansions,” Battersea Park, but after living there for four years or so, | moved over the bridge to the little house | have already mentioned, in Holland Street, Kensington, a few yards away from the old world Paradise, Kensington Gardens. It was a little house in a little street, which | still think the most charming in London, with fine old Georgian mansions mixed up with little old shops, so that an Admiral lived next to a chimney sweep, and that great artist, Walter Crane, was two doors or so removed from an oil and colorman, who sold every- thing from treacle to paraffin. We had everything in Holland Street that adds to the charm of life—a public house at the corner, a German band which played all the wrong notes once a week, just as it ought to do, anda Punch and Judy Show.&#13;
A near neighbor and close friend of mine at that time was E. W. Hornung, the author of “Raffles” and many better books not so fa- mous. He was the brother-in-law of Conan&#13;
MR. CHESTERTON&#13;
As he looked at the time Philip Gibbs was his neighbor&#13;
Doyle, whose enormous success with Sherlock Holmes probably set his mind working on the character of that gentlemanly thief, Raffles, with whom, personally, | had no sympathy at all.&#13;
Hornung and | used to “jaw” about books and writing, and, as an obscure journalist and unsuccessful author, I used to stand in awe of his fine house, his powerful motor car, his son at Eton. He was a heavily built man, with a lazy manner and a certain, intolerance of view which made him despise Socialists, Radicals, or any critics of the British Empire and the old traditions, but | came to know the underlying sweetness and. sentiment of his character, and his passion of patriotism. He used to drive me sometimes to places like Richmond Park and Windsor Forest, and there we used to walk about under the trees, discussing the eternal subject of books. Deep peace was about us in those old woods. Neither he nor | imagined in our wildest flights of fancy that one day we would be living in a hole in the ground under the ruins of Arras, and that life and death would knock all thought of books out of our minds.&#13;
His boy was his greatest pride, a fine lad,&#13;
 &#13;
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  &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
THE LATE SARAH BERNHARDT&#13;
Who, when Philip Gibbs expressed his concern over her fatigue after a trying&#13;
scene as “‘Adrienne Lecouvreur,”’ was instantly angered, thinking his re-&#13;
mark had reference to her age. ‘‘I was as much fatigued,” she cried angrily,&#13;
“when I first played that scene. Was it thirty years ago, or forty ?—I have forgotten. Itis the exhaustion of art, not of nature”&#13;
fresh from Eton, and steeped in the old tradi- tions which Hornung thought gave the only grace to the code of an English gentleman. (He had no patience with any other school of thought.) The boy stood one day on the curbstone in High Street, Kensington, on a day after war had been declared and the streets were placarded with posters, “ Your King and Country Need You.” He raised his hat to my wife, and said, “ Do you think | ought to join up?” He joined up, like all boys of his age, and, like most of them in the list of second lieutenants at that time, was killed very soon. His letters from the front were full of faith and pride. He loved his men, the splendor of being an officer, the thought of the great adventure ahead for England’s sake. He did not live into the&#13;
times of disillusion and the dull routine of His father was&#13;
mud and misery.&#13;
© Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
   &#13;
206 Philip Gibbs&#13;
broken-hearted. His only idea now was how to get out to the front, in spite of being too old for soldiering, and too heavy, and too asthmatical. It was my idea that he should join the Y. M. C. A., and he seized it gladly as a chance of service and heart healing. | met him in his hut at Arras, serving out tea to muddy Tom- mies, finding a man, now and then, to his enormous joy, who had known his son. Always he was in the spiritual presence of that boy of his. For the sake of that, and for the men’s sake, he endured real agonies of physical discomfort in a draughty hut, with a stove which would not burn, and cocoa as his only drink. The fastidious author of “ Raffles,” who had been particular about his creature comforts, and careful of the slightest draught!&#13;
He started a lending library for soldiers in the trenches and I lent him a hand with it now and then. It was in a hut on the ruins of the Town Hall of Arras and because of the daily bombardment, he slept at night in a dug-out below an avalanche of stones. | promised to give a lecture to his men on the history of Arras, and “mugged it up” from old books in an old chateau. The date was announced, and posted up on a placard. It was the 21st of March, 1918! No British soldier needs reminding of the meaning of that date. It was when 114 German divisions attacked the British line and all hell was let loose, and, for a time, the bottom seemed to fall out of the world.&#13;
I did not deliver that lecture. | was away at the south of the line, recording frightful happenings. But I heard afterward, from Hornung, that through the smoke and dust of heavy shelling which churned up old rub- bish heaps of ruins in Arras, two Scottish soldiers in tin hats loomed up to hear the lecture. Poor Hornung survived the War, but not long. His soul was eager for that meeting with his son.&#13;
 &#13;
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 &#13;
a i “ae&#13;
~~ &amp; wd Gea @&amp; ta OO O&amp;O Fr&#13;
 &#13;
oa = yw FF OSC]&#13;
— — oF&#13;
ay ful ym ist ib- ish the the for&#13;
 &#13;
ITALY’S REVOLUTIONARY CONSERVATIVES&#13;
How Fascism Came Into Being, and What It Is. The Possibilities for Service that are in the Hands of Mussolini and the Fascisti&#13;
By E. L. MAcVEAGH&#13;
“TI think we were all most impressed with Italy as being the most promising country of those in the war. We found an extraordinary popular enthusiasm behind the Mussolini policy. We found Mussolini unexpectedly outspoken in support of private initiative, and his opening address to the International Chamber was extraordinary in its strength of statement that the State must divest itself of all those functions which could be discharged by private enterprise, and especially commendatory of the system of capitalization, so-called.&#13;
“Now, tn a country such as Italy, which only two years ago saw its factories in the bands of communistic workmen, and from the mouth of a man who, five years ago, was the leading Socialist editor of Italy, these are extraordinarily strong statements. Such a change of front might at first arouse some apprehension as to the sincerity of it and the conviction behind it, but, after several dis- cussions with Mussolini, we came to the conclusion that it was a conviction based on experience and study and therefore lasting. And certainly the man has extraordinary power to put his policies into effect in Italy. That he is succeeding is shown by the fact that, without disturbance, with hardly any local criticism, he has already lowered the personnel of the State railways by 40,000, he has taken out of the postal service the parcel post service and turned that over to a private express company, his negotiations for the taking over of the State telephone system are well along and will shortly be consummated without doubt. That these are needed no one who has observed the working of the telephone and mail svstem, for instance, in Italy, can well doubt.&#13;
“As an illustration, business men in Rome, instead of attempting to use their phone system, have a system of private messengers to send their messages. ls a ae ee ec&#13;
“Now, these are great drags on the development of a people. Mussolini seems to have grasped thal, and to be determined to put all the vigor and stimulus of his power inlo these private enterprises which aid trade.&#13;
“Hydroelectric development and the great national capital of a people naturally industrious will offset measurably the lack of natural resources from which Italy suffers in industrial competi- tion.’”-—Juxius H. Barnes, President of the United States Chamber of Commerce, in a speech after his recent return from Italy.&#13;
HE present political situation in&#13;
Italy presents, at least in appear-&#13;
ance, striking anomalies. Was it&#13;
only yesterday that Bolshevist in-&#13;
trigue was undermining the fabric of the state, thereafter to jeopardize the social solidarity of western Europe? To-day we read that an extra-legal force, directed by a man whose watchword is rigid discipline, has seized control and promises to accomplish What many former premiers could not achieve. How have these things come about? How can such a complete transformation in public temper be explained?&#13;
The answer is simple and fitting to the nation: it is to be found in the Italian sense of historical continuity.&#13;
The Englishman considers his birth like his climate—a matter of course. Fortified by memories of centuries of national existence, as well as by partnership in his present world empire, he faces the world without reflecting upon the implications of his race. The Italian, on the other hand, believes his Latin ancestry has endowed him with sensibilities and capacities a shade above those of other Europeans. It is a constant irritation to him that others do not accept him at his own&#13;
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    &#13;
E. L. MacVeagh&#13;
AN OATH TO SUPPORT MUSSOLINI&#13;
 &#13;
When the Fascisti marched on Rome and filled her streets and plazas with enthusiastic black-shirted throngs such&#13;
scenes as this were common, especially when Mussolini, the popular Fascisti leader, put in his appearance.&#13;
When this&#13;
picture was taken he had appeared on a balcony, which the camera did not include, but where he was visible to the&#13;
valuation. Political leaders during the Ri- sorgimento played upon his pride to galvanize him into cohesive action; the subsequent indifference of the Great Powers touched the same sentiment upon the quick. Conscious of his own economic inferiority, and suffering keenly under some recent diplomatic reverses, his national state of mind has been and still is one of exasperation.&#13;
The world war increased that rather morbid sense of Italianization, until now each citizen appears to carry a chip on his shoulder; Mussolini struts into conference with repre- sentatives of France and England daring them to try to knock it off. In that respect he voices a widespread feeling of dissatis- faction among his compatriots with the results of peace. Not only does Italy think that her military and economic sacrifices have not been appreciated, but she is convinced that she did not receive her just recompense at Versailles. Serbia was made into a great nation composed of ethnic elements despised by Italians and given a coast line rich in well protected harbors on a sea which Italy con- siders a part of her Venetian patrimony; Greece took over a large share of Thrace and Asia Minor, including Smyrna—regions where Italy has historical rights; and lastly, Italy received only a small share in the allotment of reparations.&#13;
The first evidences of post-war discontent were made manifest in the elections of Novem- ber, 1919. Upon the conclusion of hostilities&#13;
thousands in the plaza below&#13;
 &#13;
the king enlarged the franchise, and Parlia- ment passed two important measures: one modifying electoral laws effecting the scrutin de liste* and establishing proportional repre- sentation (August 15, 1919); the other making changes in the rules governing the registration of deputies and similar matters in the Chamber (July 26, 1920). The Senate remains an honorary, nominated body, but the other house is composed of members enrolled in various groups representing political parties, not interests, according to their strength in the country.&#13;
At these elections, however, many voters stayed away from the polls; and whether it were due to that fact or not, the returns showed that the Socialists had increased their number in the Chamber to one hundred and fifty-six after an astute campaign; and another party, the Partito Popolare, inspired by Roman Catholic ideas and principles, had suddenly acquired size and influence.&#13;
In the Chamber thus elected ignorance of parliamentary methods and procedure was so general that De Nicola, its president, had difficulty in engineering the passage of measures necessary for the return to a peace basis. Socialist deputies, carried away by recent electoral successes, and by what ap- peared to be the triumph of Spartacist colleagues in Germany and in Russia, were&#13;
*Scrutin de liste—in Italian scrutinio di lista—a term employed to describe the apportionment of deputies to electoral districts.&#13;
  &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Italy’s Revolutionary Conservatives&#13;
loth to enforce order in the country, where high prices, slow demobilization, unemploy- ment, and the checking of immigration by the United States and others were contributing to the formation of an inchoate mass of revolutionary spirits. In consequence it soon became apparent that no premier could com- mand a majority large enough to administer the government effectively in the face of other coalitions; domestic politics rapidly became involved and embroiled enough to menace the actual foundations of the state itself.&#13;
Italian socialism is a phenomenon apart which offers a key to comprehension of events in the kingdom during and since the war. Acts of violence have repeatedly marred its history. Followers of Mazzini and Garibaldi early lent impetus to the movement, and universities and professional classes swelled the ranks. The first branch of the Inter- nationale, founded in Genoa in 1872, was frankly anarchical, but it was not until Costa, the earliest socialist leader, became a deputy that the anarchist wing split off under the leadership of Malatesta and Cafiero. Agrarian disturbances rather than industrial have given opportunities for the spread of propaganda: for example, in 1896 and 1897 agricultural crises in the south culminated in the new “Five Days” at Milan. Rioting in&#13;
 &#13;
pry nee&#13;
. re&#13;
%,&#13;
x od.&#13;
 &#13;
209&#13;
which all parties took part assumed a separa- tist character, and, of course, was named on account of its duration and location for the famous insurrection during the Risorgimento. In 1898 again, obstructionism ended with the socialist deputies forcibly taking possession of the voting urns in Montecitorio.&#13;
Giolitti, premier in the next administration, conceded the right to strike, provided the right to work was recognized. The socialist party programme developed along lines of constructive social legislation, and, indeed, is largely responsible for an official campaign against illiteracy, and for the establishment of rural banks, the introduction of more up-to- date methods of sanitation, the encourage- ment of codperative societies, and similar forward steps. When Giolitti offered Bisso- lati, then the most powerful socialist deputy, a cabinet position, and when the latter considered accepting, opinion crystallized within the party upon the issue as to how far members might codperate with the Government. Bisso- lati was subsequently expelled for supporting the Libyan war: he took with him thirteen of his colleagues, and with them formed the reformist wing. This section professes to believe in collaborating with other parlia- mentary groups for the good of the nation— in sharp contrast with orthodox socialists who&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
TAKING THEIR OATH IN THE OLD ROMAN FASHION The picturesque organization of the Fascisti is made up largely of young men who fought in the war, but&#13;
its membership is by no means limited to former soldiers.&#13;
Older men and many women are also members&#13;
 &#13;
210 E. L. MacVeagh&#13;
still maintain their traditional policy of class interests exclusively. This split between “collaborationists’’ and “non-collaboration- ists’’ has come to the front again and again in various socialist congresses, or conventions, with victory inclining at one time to one faction and at another to the other.&#13;
In April, 1914, at Ancona, the party re- stated its objects in precise form. Included in the economic section were “planks”’ such as the support of free trade, and the revision of taxation so that the “upper classes’”’ should pay in greater proportion. The necessity for exercising complete authority over the country was affirmed; and as a means to this end the founding of more workmen’s clubs for the study of current economic and political problems, the acquisition of control in municipal councils, or minorities, where this was not possible, and the conversion of different labor federations to socialism in spite of their previous political affiliations. At the same conference Benito Mussolini, long connected with the editorial staff of the Avanti, a leading socialist newspaper, came into prominence by offering a bill to compel expulsion from the party of freemasons, on the ground that their allegiance must be&#13;
necessarily a divided one. The success which crowned socialist efforts along the indicated lines between 1914 and 1920 helps to explain the genesis of the Fascisti; but the pace be- came faster after the armistice.&#13;
The Bologna congress of October, 1910, preluded victory at the polls the following month. Lawlessness and intransigence were the dominant notes in the faction and throughout the country. Turati, who founded the “Critica Sociale” and has been con- spicuous for his ardor and ability through the history of the party, stood alone in oppos- ing the sabotage urged by Bombacci, then vice-secretary of the party. The younger partisans like Graziadei and Terracini, who seconded Bombacci, were as ruthless in destroying established socialist statutes and theories as they would have liked to be in overthrowing the bourgeoisie. The following months were the worst since the war for Italy. Mobs paraded the streets shouting for death to the middle classes; soldiers wear- ing uniform were attacked; the flag was abused, and even nuns out walking with school children were insulted. Two thousand out of eight thousand communes hoisted the red flag, and finally, in September, 1920,&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
MUSSOLINI REVIEWS THE FASCISTI The premier, wearing a black shirt which has become uniform for the Fascisti, is shown reviewing a gathering of his followers&#13;
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Italy’s Revolutionary Conservatives&#13;
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 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
PREMIER MUSSOLINI AND HIS CABINET&#13;
The most widely known member of which is General Diaz, shown on Mussolini’s right, who led the Italian army during the war&#13;
groups of workmen took over the manage- ment of important factories in northern Italy.&#13;
LTHOUGH that incident was no more significant than many which had oc- curred before, it was widely advertised abroad. At the same time it brought to light that in April of the same year, the solid ele- ments of society, the so-called “middle classes”, had initiated certain measures for self-defense. The leaders in this reaction were Sem Benelli, dramatist and author of “The Jest”, which made such a sensation in New York when played there recently, and Mussolini, now ousted from the socialist party because he had championed the war in his own newspaper and fought as a corporal in the Bersaglieri until wounded and dis- charged. They organized “Fasci di com- battimento”—“ groups of  fighters’—com- prising in their ranks old soldiers, students, and others whose pride in their country suf- fered by reason of the reputation which unchecked lawlessness was bringing upon it. A national association of “fasci’” was formed and divided into units such as “cohorts” and “legions,” and these again into smaller ones.&#13;
War veterans gave the military training and demanded immediate obedience. Terminol-&#13;
ogy and forms} of organization are purposely borrowed from the traditions and customs of&#13;
ancient Rome. Members wear black shirts on which devices of rank appear, greenish gray trousers, and a kind of forage cap, though they frequently go bareheaded.&#13;
Whenever accounts of the raising of red flags reached headquarters, mobilization or- ders were sent to the Fascisti in the town, or, if help were needed, also to surrounding districts; combined patrols pulled down the flag, burned it, and departed as soon as they felt sure there would be no more disturbances. Groups of Fascisti appeared in motor-trucks on the roads in regions where peasants had indulged in violence and pillaging; others burned the meeting halls of “chambers of labor’’ in industrial centres where sedition was spread- ing; they took over schools whose manage- ment had been perverted by red propaganda; they evicted municipal councils from towns which Socialists had contrived to control, but always relinquished the power they had usurped to the regularly constituted authori- ties upon proper reorganization of the com- munity.&#13;
 &#13;
212 E. L. MacVeagh&#13;
Such arbitrary actions led to reprisals in the form of bomb throwing, murders, and street riots—inevitable consequences of the “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ policy when permitted to inspire two forces, both working illegally, even though one be striving for public security and one against it. On the whole, however, people were content to exchange red terrorism for order enforced by black shirts, and returned Fascisti deputies in the next election. These new represen- tatives of a new point of view stood as a separate entity in the chamber, but fre- quently codperated with the National- ists, the imperialistic party, whose leader is Vice-president Fe- derzoni. Gabriele D’Annunzio, hero or mock hero of the Fiume episode, ac- cording to the point of view, and who is the best known spokesman of nation- alist aims despite his cordiality toward Moscow, at first looked askance at the new party when&#13;
 &#13;
ministry; his second received from Mussolini, by this time the undisputed Fascisti chief ultimatums concerning a general election, and even the details of a plan for holding one In fact, there was little difference between Mussolini’s dominance and his recent assump- tion of the external insignia of power. Socialist congresses meanwhile mirrored consternation at the turn of events and at their own waning influence. In January, 1921, at Leghorn, small courtesy was paid advice given and threats made by, a delegate from Mos- cow with the result that Terracini and Graziadei bolted to form the Italian communist party. Waletzki, soviet em- issary at the Milan congress in October, 1921, formally pro- claimed the Italian Socialist Party no longer a member of the Third Interna- tionale; but no one seemed so much wor- ried by excommuni- cation as by D’Ara- gona’s exposé, made on behalf of the Con-&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
it did not support his “Expedition,” but since then he seems to have forgotten his resentment in satisfaction with the career of such advocates of aggressive Italianization.&#13;
The results of a policy of violence justified the Fascisti in yet other quarters where they were regarded with suspicion. They claimed more than half a million adherents in the country; therefore they maintained their actual number in Parliament was not repre- sentative. This attitude of mind quickly produced the conviction, not only among the Fascisti themselves, but also outside their body, that either they should be given the directing voice in the government or new elections should take place in order to permit a more equitable distribution of seats. Such a sentiment lay behind the fall of Facta’s first&#13;
form (except their own).&#13;
THE FASCISTI AT WORK The “black shirts” are opposed to radicalism in any Bolshevism, Syndicalism, and Socialism, particularly, are anathema to the Fascisti&#13;
federation of Labor to the directors of the party, of the con- dition of the masses. Delegates did not concur, however, in the response he received from the committee when they urged the wisdom of waiting until the tide of reaction had spent itself.&#13;
The most recent Socialist congress took place in Rome in November, 1922; it indi- cates the full measure of Socialist discord and Fascisti triumph. Out of a former membership of about five hundred thousand, only seventy-three thousand remained on the rolls; this number was further divided into a Bolshevist wing of thirty-two thousand and a collaborationist wing of twenty-nine thou- sand. Various methods of strengthening the party were discussed, but the longer the congress lasted, the more evident it became&#13;
 &#13;
Italy’s Revolutionary Conservatives&#13;
that a difference of opinion on the old grounds of collaboration, between the veteran Turati, and Serrati, editor of the Avanti, would lead to permanent rupture. Turati, in con- junction with Treves and other notable figures, thereupon founded the Partito Social- ista Unitario. Whether deputies from both factions will make a united group in the Chamber or carry their differences into national politics remains to be seen.&#13;
The general strike of August, 1922, -ex- pressed Socialism’s last challenge to Fascism. It was directly occasioned by the Fascisti seizure of Milan, naturally a prosperous city, which reckless socialist politicians had crip- pled by their extravagance, and subsequent communist administrations had red:iced to bankruptcy. Other general strikes had had considerableeffect, particularly in the summer of 1914 and winter of i919, because it is comparatively easy to paralyze the activities of a state which is responsible for the running of railroads, telegraph and telephone lines, and even street cars. This time, however, it was a different story. Fascisti in Milan swept the sidewalks and crossings with brooms twined with tri-color ribbons; beflagged trams kept up a more or less regular service, and trains continued to run. The _ populace circulated about streets decked out as if for a féte, and greeted D’Annunzio with wild enthusiasm when he harangued them from the balcony of the town hall.&#13;
Success in breaking this strike elated Mussolini’s followers. They turned out thou- sands strong for the assembly at Udine in September—a kind of dress parade for the official congress at Naples in October, where one hundred and thirty thousand Fascisti, both civilians and soldiers, gathered. Musso- lini opened proceedings with ceremony before a packed house in the San Carlo theatre, and concluded his speech with: “Either they will give us power and control or we will take it! To Rome! To Rome!”&#13;
Before the business of the congress was ended Mussolini left for Milan. De Vecchi, who is vice-president of the Fascisti group in the Chamber and a leader in military affairs of the organization, went to Perugia. Rumors of a general Fascisti mobilization in the northern and central provinces began to reach the Government. Friday, October 27th, Facta submitted to the king the resignations of his cabinet, and that same evening announced&#13;
213&#13;
that General Pugliese would assume military control of the country at noon the next day, taking appropriate measures for the establish- ment of a state of siege.&#13;
The king, however, with perhaps a touch of statesmanship above even his usual per- spicacity, refused to sign the order, and called into successive conferences De Nicola (who had throughout the last half year urged finding some way of legalizing Fascisti activi- ties), Tittoni, Orlando, and other prominent men. He asked Salandra to form a new government; but it was obvious that Musso- lini must be a member of any cabinet that could be constructed. Federzoni meanwhile, who had acted as mediator between cabinet, king, and Fascisti, learned that Mussolini would not accept a portfolio in any cabinet of which he himself was not the head and whose members he had not chosen. Victor Emmanuel, having under the circumstances no other choice, summoned the Fascisti chief.&#13;
Mussolini reached Rome on the Monday following Facta’s futile proclamation. The entire length of his journey resembled a victor’s progress. Assuring the king of his party’s loyalty, he presented a list of cabinet appointments, which, while showing a ma- jority of Fascisti, included a number of representatives of other parliamentary groups. His programme, roughly outlined, promises the reconstruction of the army, a more aggressive foreign policy, and rigid internal economy.&#13;
N ACCOUNT of the Fascisti plan to&#13;
change the electoral law so that the party polling the greatest number of votes shall have three-fifths of the total number of seats, Mussolini apparently did not expect a vote of confidence from Parliament; at any rate, he did not ask for one, and it surprised the public when it was promptly given by a two-thirds majority. Nor did the submis- siveness of the Chamber end there. A most unusual bill, conferring full powers on the Government until December 31, 1923, was introduced; a special committee considered it from a national and constitutional standpoint and recommended its adoption; within a few days it became law after meeting with negli- gible opposition. In consequence the new premier is guaranteed a full year of security from political attack in which to bring about&#13;
 &#13;
214&#13;
the reforms in the bureaucracy and the decentralization of governmental functions to which he has committed himself. He hopes to balance the budget principally by a readjustment of taxation, especially increasing the wine consumption tax, and the curtail- ment of imports which have been greatly in excess of exports.&#13;
Fascisti civilians have never come before the public to the same degree as their militant brothers, and it is not generally realized outside of Italy that the crushing of radical labor elements has meant their ultimate conversion to Fascism. The names of eight hundred thousand workers appear as members of the organization, and local committees of Fascisti act as employment agencies while fulfilling their other duties. Mussolini, who absorbed some of their theories while he was connected with militant socialism, himself has defined the party attitude toward the masses as a kind of enlightened syndicalism which does not condone strikes in pub- lic services, but which believes in the col- laboration of all classes for the common good.&#13;
The future of the movemeri is of course unpredictable. Lausanne has evoked confi- dent prophecies by elderly diplomats that Mussolini cannot last. The foregoing review, however, points to certain elements in the problem which indicate a somewhat more solid future for an organized party whose roots go so deep into the vital necessities of the time. On the basis both of his antecedents and recent utterances, it is not unlikely that Mussolini may find a modus vivendi with Socialism, at least in some of its most vigorous and practical aspects. As has been seen, the imperialism of the Nationalists coincides with that of the Fascisti and points of difference in their interior programme are not grave. Both parties still speak of the unity of Italy as incomplete; they look toward Fiume and the Dalmatian coast; and if, and when they believe the country strong enough economi- cally, those regions may again become national objectives. A bellicose few of both parties&#13;
E. L. MacVeagh&#13;
even consider an attack on France for the sake of her colonies.&#13;
Another factor which must never be over- looked in dealing with Italian affairs, is of course the Vatican. The last few years have seemed to indicate that the bitterness between the Vatican and the Quirinal was noticeably decreasing, and there seems to be a frequent exchange of views between the Pope’s ad- visors and the headquarters of the Partito Popolare. Its general secretary, Don Sturzo,a priest, and an enigmatic but very real power in domestic politics, is known to favor a “white international,”’ uniting Roman Catholics in all countries. The German centrist party angled throughout the war for their co- religionists south of the Alps; but a rapproche- ment between the two now would not tend to create good feeling in government circles representing veterans of the last war. It is known that in August, 1922, Turati, D’Ara- gona, and Modigliani approached Don Sturzo with a scheme of alliance between their especial branches of the Socialist party and the Partito Popolare; it is not impossible that some integration of forces with the Vatican at its core, may be found in the path of Fascism and its sympathizers. Yet Musso- lini will probably not be willing to become entangled in an open conflict with supporters of the church; the more likely development lies in the direction of continuing a policy of neutrality toward the Pope while repudiating on patriotic grounds any combination made by an Italian party with German or Austrian factions, regardless of religious affiliations.&#13;
These things, however, remain in the field of speculation. If Mussolini does not go to extremes in internal social reform, or in his foreign policy, and if he can restrain his turbulent followers and can guide their energies in legal channels, he may accomplish much for his country. In the meantime the results of the first coup d’état in modern Italy suggest widely divergent possibilities which are of international importance, and which are certainly worth the attention of the spectator beyond the frontier.&#13;
 &#13;
ADVENTURES IN THE PHILIPPINES&#13;
I]&#13;
My First Bribe.&#13;
The Capture of Colonel Velez.&#13;
Wahb, My Pet Bear&#13;
By LIEUT.-COL. SYDNEY A. CLOMAN&#13;
Colonel Cloman was formerly military governor of a part of the Sulu Archipelago in the&#13;
southern Philippines.&#13;
This series of articles is the very amusing and adventurous story of bis&#13;
sojourn among the Moros of that group of islands —TuHE Epitors.&#13;
WAS from the first very anxious to meet&#13;
the chiefs of these scattered and unruly&#13;
islands, impress upon them that order&#13;
was my first law, and by personal contact&#13;
try to acquaint myself with their methods of thought and—what was equally important —let them get acquainted with mine. Hence soon after my landing | sent out an order to all chiefs to meet me on a certain date at Bongao, prepared to stay until our business was over. I had quick replies to my ‘“‘invita- tion,” and the head men of the different com- munities, with one exception, arrived on the date given, in great state and with numerous retainers. The one exception was Panglima Djenal of Bilimbing, of whom more later. The Moro is at the best not a handsome person; and I venture to say that in the whole world there was not a more villainous-looking crowd than the one lined up before me on this occasion. Their scaly faces, small, shifty eyes and awful mouths with blackened teeth, quite neutralized their highly colored vestments and beautiful inlaid barongs and krisses. | already had discovered that a Moro chief ex- pected to show his loyalty by kissing the gov- ernor’s hand; but our supply of disinfectants was limited, so coupled with the invitation to the durbar was an intimation that hand-kiss- ing was forever taboo to an American. Fur- thermore, from previous experiences, | was aware that there is no such thing as a present in Asia. No difference under what circum- stances it may be given, its acceptance is simply a notification to the giver that you accept the status of being under obligation to him either to make a like gift to him or to render a decision in his favor when the op- portunity occurs. I certainly did not care to Start my official career with such a handicap, so all chiefs were duly warned that the bring-&#13;
ing of a gift to Bongao would be considered an insult by the Americans, and would be sure to get the bearer in wrong. Hence our meeting was unmarred by either moral turpi- tude or physical contact.&#13;
To return to Panglima Djenal. When the native messenger returned from Bilim- bing, he told me that the old man was recover- ing from a severe attack of fever, and craved 24 hours delay in reporting. He also told me that Djenal intended bringing with him for presentation to me a kriss that had been in his family for some generations, and that in other ways he expected quite to outshine his rivals. This seemed to me to be nothing but wanton disobedience, and would certainly be a poor example to the other chiefs at our very first meeting. So | said, “Get into your boat, return to Bilimbing at once, and tell Panglima Djenal that if he brings me a present, I cer- tainly shall punish him for discbedience of orders. Tell him how angry 1am.” And the messenger departed.&#13;
The event of the second day was the ar- rival of Djenal. He was a rich and powerful man, and when his fleet of fifteen praus with huge square sails of all colors of the rainbow came in before a fair breeze, with gongs beat- ing and men dancing on the decks, it was a sight never to be forgotten. When he landed and came up to where we were in conference, business was suspended until he could ap- proach and be received by me. My chair was somewhat elevated, and as he came for- ward | quickly noted that he was accompanied by two knife bearers, so | knew that after all I had been disobeyed. However, | cordially greeted him and awaited developments.&#13;
When | finally intimated that the confer- ence was over for the day, Djenal stepped forward and begged a moment’s delay. He&#13;
 &#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
 &#13;
BONGAO—COLONEL CLOMAN’S “CAPITAL” This photograph, taken years after Colonel Cloman had left the place, slows a “‘town”’ far different from the one he&#13;
knew.&#13;
The church shown here was unknown to him, and when he first arrived the natives were accustomed to seeing&#13;
the Spanish garrison shut itself up each night in a block house for safe keeping&#13;
then motioned to his extra krissbearer and said, “| wish to present you with a kriss that has been in my family for many generations. My only son was killed some years ago, and | have kept it sacredly for my grandson, who is still but a lad. Later, he will bless you for receiving it.” This was my cue for throwing a fit. 1 was really angry for this double and public disobedience, but | did not forget to rant a bit to make it more marked. During my tirade the old man stood there with raised hand and great dignity, and when at the end | asked him what explanation he had to offer, he impressively replied, “I received your order, and would have cut off my right hand rather than disobey you. But the following night Allah appeared to me in a dream and said, ‘Panglima Djenal, the Americans have come, and their great chief is at Bongao. Take thou the kriss of thy grandson, and lay it at his feet.” The vision then faded away, and | must obey my God, no difference what punishment you may visit upon me. | am no longer concerned; the question is between you and Allah.”&#13;
| was stumped. This was interjecting a Mahomedan side-issue that might be of mo- ment, and besides the matter was taking on a totally unwarranted importance so | brought&#13;
it to a speedy close. Under these exceptional circumstances, | said that | would accept the knife and closed the conference.&#13;
During the night | looked over the kriss carefully, and also had Datto Tanton set a value on it. It hada handle of Borneo ivory with two thin rings of gold and blade inlaid with silver. At current prices at that time, we both valued it at $30 Mex., or $15 gold. The chiefs at that time were very anxious to get American $5 gold pieces to hang on their wrist chains.&#13;
So next morning when the final session of the conference was about to end, | called Djenal before me and addressed him as fol- lows; “ Panglima Djenal, last night as I lay in my bed asleep, Allah appeared before me in a great light and said ‘You have with you here, Panglima Djenal, a wise and loyal chief, who will keep his people in order, obey all your commands, and assist you in every way. Be- fore he leaves for his town, you shall present him with three $5 gold pieces.””’ Djenal must have known the value of his kriss for he started back and said, “ Tuan, you are trying to pay me for the knife!” I have been in amateur theatricals myself, so I cast the $15 at his feet and said, “1 have obeyed Allah The question is now between you and Him.”&#13;
 &#13;
— SS ee Te OS. Ue ,&#13;
Adventures in&#13;
As I walked away, | could hear Djenal ex- postulating, while the chiefs of less delicate fibre were advising him to cop the fifteen without delay.&#13;
| thought the matter was ended to the mutual satisfaction of Allah, Djenal, and my- self, so after lunch | went into my darkened room for a siesta. | was awakened by some- one kissing my hand, and when | sprang to my feet, somewhat dazed, | found Djenal kneeling at my bedside. Through a crack of the door, | saw Abdallah, the interpreter, peering through and howled at him to enter and find out why any one had dared to sneak in there. | then learned that Djenal could wait no longer, as he had to leave on this tide; that he had to speak to me before he left; that while he was a good Mahomedan and was fairly familiar with those religious precepts, yet he had never been to Mecca; that I was all-wise and would be able to instruct him on any obscure point of the faith, etc. I broke in at this point with the inconsiderate exclamation, “Find out what the idiot is talk- ing about and what he wants.”’ Djenal then concentrated as fol- lows: “I know, Tuan that Allah appeared to you and mentioned the sum of $15. Now would it be a sin if you should increase the amount he named, and bestow upon me, let us say, one more $5 gold piece?”’&#13;
Needless to add that | called him a heretic for thus questioning a direct command of Allah, pre- dicted—and in fact might have expressed a wish—that he would go straight to hell, and ended by casting him forth from my cham- ber into outer daylight. But my siesta was ruined.&#13;
It was not long before all the natives knew that the Ameri- cans at Bongao, while otherwise fairly sane, would not receive a valuable present, but that a com- mon and worthless offering like a rare plant or animal from the&#13;
the Philippines 217&#13;
also became the recipient of many gifts, and soon our small gardens were a wonderful sight and our menagerie embarrassingly large and varied. The line of seven cottonwoods in front of my door were natural hitching posts for Jane (our beloved monkey), Wahb (a Borneo bear), two large black apes (also from Borneo), a baby orang-outang, an iguana lizard five feet long, and a huge pop- eyed land crab. Each had a character and interesting life of its own, but the collection was subject to perpetual change. The foot- high land crab was preserved and sent to an American museum; the two apes were so unintelligent that after a year’s care and kind-&#13;
PANGLIMA UNGA&#13;
jungle seemed to give them a_ This picturesque individual was at one time one of the most influential&#13;
headmen of the Sulu Archipelago, but he lost his influence because he was strange pleasure. Our doctor who never quite able to convince the Americans of his sincere loyalty. Asa was tireless in helping the sick, matter of fact he has long been known as a distinctly disloyal fellow&#13;
 &#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
 &#13;
A MORO DATTO FROM MINDANAO&#13;
Mindanao is inhabited by a variety of peoples, but&#13;
the Moros of the island are very similar to their&#13;
cousins of the Sulu Islands, which are, of course, within easy reach by boat&#13;
ness they did not know us, and on the ap- proach of any one they screamed with rage and terror to the end. Their size and strength were such as to make them a real danger when free, so they were turned loose in the jungle and the soldiers had a two day’s field-exercise in hunting them down. The baby orang died, in spite of the doctor’s care, and we thus lost our greatest prize. Wahb and Jane were with us through it all, and when | was ordered away, my affection for the former was so great that | took him with me. He will be remembered by all travellers in the Islands between 1899 and 1902, and in fact | am afraid | was widely known as the owner of Wahb rather than as a great military genius.&#13;
Ten years later | alighted from a train at 3:30 A.M. in the Union Station at Indianapolis. While crossing a track in the glare of a locomo- tive light, | was followed by the fireman who said, “| beg your pardon, but aren’t you the officer who had the pet bear in Zamboanga in 1901°’’ He turned out to be an ex-ser- geant of the 31st Infantry, and needless to say | grounded my luggage and gave him Wahb’s history. And | will do so here.&#13;
A Borneo prince with his suite came over&#13;
 &#13;
THE “SWEET TONED MORO GONGS&#13;
”&#13;
Colonel Cloman refers occasionally throughout his series to the Moro gongs, which are universally used in the Sulu Archipelago. This photograph shows an orchestra of them. The series of gongs mounted in the wooden frame is called a Kulingtangan&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Adventures in the Philippines&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
A MORO STORE&#13;
With a typical group of Moros lounging about.&#13;
Fighting and going to sea in their&#13;
swift vinlas and praus seem to be more to the liking of most Moros than trading&#13;
to pay his respects to me one Sunday morning late in 1899, and presented me with a black ball consisting mostly of teeth, claws, and deviltry. It was Wahb, less than a week old, but his fierceness was remarkable for such a young animal. The giver was a strangely repellant type of Malay, and his scant popu- larity with me waned to the vanishing point when he cheerfully gave as a reason for the bear’s bad temper that he had given him nothing to drink for three days. After trying several things, I discovered that the poor baby could retain on his stomach a mixture of fresh cocoanut juice and condensed miik, but it was 18 hours before he became normal and could go to sleep. | would not speak further with his brutal captor, and gave him every opening to leave the place at the earliest moment. But instead of that he hung about all morning and took every opportunity to “butt in’ on my business and conversation, while the cries of the little bear rang in my ears all the time.&#13;
| tried my cases on Sunday morning, and on this particular Sunday | had a complicated “woman case.” Such cases were always un- welcome and exasperating. Slavery was con- cealed under all sorts of guises, such as rela-&#13;
tionship and guardianship, and the worst of it was that the woman herself could not be de- pended upon to tell the truth but was in- clined to choose the easiest way. Even if her position in a household were not a legal one, she could not be allowed to become a derelict, and in the main it was best to leave her with the people who had raised her. But I de- tested going into these shadowy matters, and my cheerfulness and patience usually ebbed quickly in this atmosphere of evasion and lying.&#13;
When | called the case on this particular morning, the gaudy and cheeky Borneo sport proceeded to elect himself master of ceremo- nies. | asked him if he was interested in the woman in any way, but he disavowed this. | warned him several times to keep still, but when finally | put the woman on the stand he moved alongside of her and would whisper to her what answers to make to my questions. Time and again | told him not to do this and all the time | was reaching the boiling point. Finally when he impudently disobeyed me again, | for the second time in my life saw blood-red. | do not remember crossing to him. I only remember the delicious joy | had in giving him what is known in prize-ring&#13;
 &#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
FHE SULTAN OF SULU With two members of the Philippine Legislature. The Sultan is not the virile ruler that his predecessor was, but since before the time of which Colonel Cloman writes he has been the native head of the Sulu Archipelago, although, of course, his political power disappeared with the entrance of the Americans&#13;
circles as a “wallop.” Wahb was at last avenged, although it is not a_ beautiful thought now. The disconsolate suite sup- ported him down to his boat, and I am glad to say | never saw him again.&#13;
Wahb then was assigned the end cotton- wood as a local habitation. Next to him, and within easy reach, was Jane, who at once adopted him. She was getting along in years, and this big baby appealed to all her sup- pressed maternal instincts. She would put her tiny arms as far around his comparatively huge body as possible and try to hold him to her breast and make the little cooing sounds of a mother-monkey. Wahb would look at her with utter amazement and the domestic scene usually ended by the bear giving her a re- sounding cuff when the indignant Jane would fly at him and sink her teeth into him in a way that would speedily put him to flight. Later when he grew larger she loved to sit on his back and ride him about, and a more ridicu- lous sight could not be imagined.&#13;
The Borneo bear is a small but extremely strong animal, with all the comical bear at-&#13;
tributes enhanced to the utmost. His head is too large for his body, his short legs are bowed so that he can pull logs to pieces in search of grubs and honey, and his claws are of abnormal length. When he runs, both of his hind legs go on the outside of his front ones, in the way beloved of our cartoonists. He soon learned to love his daily bath, and throughout his life he followed me or lay at my feet like a dog. When taking a stroll he would dash ahead for fifty yards and then look back to see if | was coming. Should I, in the meantime, step in a doorway and hide, there was a worried bear until he found me. Owing to the good care and food, he grew larger and stronger than his race, and the natives always told me that | would have to kill him just before he was full-grown, as they became very fierce then. | poo-pooed this, but it was true. One day | returned from the jungle, and he met me with the most playful delight, but suddenly, without warning he attacked me. Happily | had a heavy club about the size of a baseball bat, and we had it out in the good old way. | put dents in his horny skull that he never forgot, and he not only thereafter remained a pet but if at any time | should speak sharply to him or stamp my foot, he would at once stand on his head and cover it with his paws. He followed me in all my wanderings in the Philippines, and was the hero of many comical incidents. At Zamboanga in Mindanao there were many Chinese restaurants, and his sensitive nose could locate their pungent odor from afar. He soon learned that the Chinese were afraid of him, and when he would catch a whiff of the chop suey, he would dash wildly ahead, usually with myself yelling in pursuit. His turn into the doorway would be followed by the exodus of the Chinese with their queues flying, and by the time | arrived he would be in a chair finishing their interrupted meal. It was also at Zamboanga that Wahb made the acquaintance of Bessie, the General’s fox terrier. Immediately after breakfast they would start looking for each other, and usually met in my office. Then ensued a fight, Bessie doing all she could to hurt Wahb, but the latter carefully refrained from doing anything but wrestle and occasionally box the dog’s ears. This would go on for twenty minutes with Generals Kobbe, Pershing, Stanton, and all the men from the surrounding offices as spectators, when a truce would be&#13;
 &#13;
Adventures in the Philippines&#13;
WHAT HAPPENED WHEN GENERAL KOBBE&#13;
“| was going up a street in Cagayan The General&#13;
TRIED TO FRIGHTEN COLONEL : : when General Kobbe saw the bear, rushing ahead as usual. jumped out in front of him with a loud ‘Boo’.&#13;
= je Rie I NH) if i Wi/ }&#13;
CLOMAN’S PET BEAR&#13;
I heard this followed by a scream of rage,&#13;
and when I looked up, Kobbe was flying for his life toward the stone church, closely followed by the infuriated bear”&#13;
declared until the following morning. Often the bear would have the dog’s whole head in his mouth, but not once did he ever hurt her; and this while Bessie was fraying his ears in the most heartless way.&#13;
Wahb went with me through the campaign in northern Mindanao, and his penchant for dashing ahead of me brought forth a comical incident. I was going up a street in Cagayan leading to the plaza, when General Kobbe saw the bear rushing ahead as usual. It occurred to him that it would be great fun to scare a bear and so he hid behind a hedge and when&#13;
Wahb came opposite, he jumped out in front of him with a loud “Boo.”’ | heard this fol- lowed by a scream of rage, and when I looked up, Kobbe was flying for his life toward the stone church, closely followed by the in- furiated bear, every hair on end and sprad- dling along at high speed with his legs mixed up in a way that would have driven Zimmer- man or Goldberg wild with joy. I joined in the chase with loud cries to call him off, but it was only with the greatest reluctance that he gave up the pursuit. When finally I had the chain on him, Kobbe came out of his refuge&#13;
 &#13;
       &#13;
   &#13;
222&#13;
a little pale around the mouth and greeted me with “ Kid, I'll never try to scare another bear as long as | live!”’&#13;
About this time | had an interesting adven- ture which will bear relating. The Comman- der-in-chief of the insurrecto forces against which we were operating was a Colonel Velez, a prominent, educated and much loved citizen of Cagayan. He developed a surprising gen- ius for guerrilla warfare and gave us much trouble. Every expedition sent out against him came to naught, and in one case at least he had given us a very pronounced trimming. Finally, a large force with mountain artillery was sent against his stronghold at Macajam- bus, only to find it abandoned, and once more the discouraged expedition straggled home without result. His whereabouts remained unknown for some time, and we could not do anything but sit about and yearn for his capture. It became a sort of obsession with us, and several times | said at the mess that | had luck in that direction, told of my capture of three Indian murderers in South&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
A TYPICAL MORO WOMAN&#13;
Of the better class. What seems to be a skirt is in reality a pair of voluminous trousers. The plaid is the popular patadiong&#13;
 &#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
Dakota, and jokingly gave it as my belief that | would some day catch Velez. As | was Inspector General of the Department and had no command, my joke was rather rubbed in on me by the General and Pershing. Sud- denly a native spy reported that Velez and a small detachment were in the town of Opol, about thirteeen miles away. An expedition of forty mounted men was hastily organized to make a dash for him at daylight the next morning, and Major Case, a fine soldier and an old friend of mine, was designated to com- mand it. Case invited me to join the expedi- tion, and the General finally consented pro- vided | go as a private soldier and attend to my own business. After a hard early morn- ing ride over the jungle trails, we neared the town, formed a half circle in the brush, and received orders at a given signal to make a wild dash for the plaza and stone church, where the insurrectos would be found, if any- where. I was riding a hard-mouthed brute of a horse that had been worrying me all morning, and | was craving to turn him loose and give him enough of it. Finally the signal was given and away we went at top speed. There was no doubt about the success of our surprise party, for men, women, and children scurried from cover, with screams of terror, but alas! the plaza was deserted. Some na- tives were rounded up and pumped by the interpreter, but they said that Velez had never been in the vicinity, and. his band cer- tainly was not in the town now. So the detachment dismounted in the plaza and proceeded to enjoy their rest and sandwiches.&#13;
In the meantime, | was not among those present. On reaching the plaza, | found that my horse was beyond control and he passed through it and down a straight sandy road running parallel to the beach and about a half-mile from it. After running for about a mile through the heavy sand he began to think that he might be wrong after all, and by this time we had reached a cross road down which | could see the bay. | turned him into this with the intention of going to the end and returning to the town by way of the beach, thinking that by that time friend horse would be willing to listen to reason. I put in my spurs and we silently clumped along through the deep sand, finally emerging from the underbrush on the beach. He was going full speed and | could not check him until he reached the water’s edge, during which few&#13;
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 &#13;
Adventures in the Philippines 223&#13;
seconds | realized that | had passed through the middle of a detachment of insurrectos.&#13;
| turned him around in time to see the last of them scurrying into the brush, for my sudden appearance could mean to them only the charge of American cavalry. | could have kissed them good-bye. | then found that | had cut off two disreputable looking speci- mens who were near a fisherman’s boat in the shallow water. These | put under my re- volver, and marched them up the beach ahead of me in spite of their voluble pleas that they were but poor fishermen and had nothing whatever to do with the others. In the course of time we entered the plaza and came within sight of our detachment. I was amazed to see our interpreter dash out and clasp one of my disreputable captives to his breast with every indication of joy, finally turning to me with the exclamation, “Do you know whom you have captured? This is Colonel Velez!” The Colonel’s only request was that he be allowed to change his jungle clothes for uni- form before we took him in, and when the exultant detachment started for home our captive was an impressive figure in the white uniform of a Colonel, mounted on a beautiful sorrel pony, with new military equipment. Velez was soon released, gave his intelligent efforts to his country in reconstruction, and in time became a splendid Governor of the province. The only official record of this incident is Case’s report that “The troops under my command succeeded on (such a date) in capturing Colonel Velez,” all of which is commendably unemotional and perfectly true.&#13;
Cagayan, while containing a large Ameri- can garrison, was virtually a besieged town. The surrounding jungle was full of guerrillas, and our lines extended out only far enough to take in the wharf, about two miles away, and a few outlying villages. One of these was Gusa, and as there was a good road running to it, this was usually the terminus of the daily afternoon rides of General Kobbe, Pershing, and myself. The President of this village Was a nice man, who also was the owner of a nice house, an ancient piano, and a modern daughter. We would enter his sala for our rest, be heartily welcomed by the Presidente, and soon his daughter would appear in spot- less pina and face covered with rice powder, and hammer the piano for our delectation. One thing about the old father that greatly&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
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¥ Y&#13;
c= ae re&#13;
AR&#13;
A SULU MORO WARRIOR&#13;
These men are brave to foolhardiness and their savage spears and barongs, or short swords, are murderous weapons at close range&#13;
impressed us was that he would never sit down in the presence of the General. No dif- ference how the latter would protest at this exaggerated courtesy, the old man would reply, ““No, My General, | would be unhappy to sit in your august presence, so please per- mit me to have my way, even though you think me foolish.” Once a spy reported that the guerrilla officers were going to meet in a certain place for a night conference, and a battalion of the 28th Infantry was ordered to try a surprise round-up. It was successful, and when the blood-thirsty crew were brought in, it was found to include our old Presidente. We then discovered why he would have been unhappy sitting in the presence of his general. Some weeks before, he had been shot in the part of the body most concerned, and the unhealed wound was treated by our surgeons, thereby greatly decreasing this abnormal Spanish courtesy. Why he had not filled his house with guerrillas and quietly “done us in”’ during one of our many visits, we could never understand. It might have made quite a&#13;
 &#13;
224&#13;
difference in the World War seventeen years later.&#13;
But to return to Wahb. When after three years | was ordered home, the thought that he and | were to be separated was unbearable. Because of the bubonic plague, the regulations forbade any importation of animals from Asia into America, but | was determined to accomplish it in some way, and | had faith in the backing of Governor-General Taft and General Chaffee, both of whom knew Wahb. So | submitted a request for the importation backed by affidavits from surgeons and others covering his entire life from seven days on, and stating that he had never had a sick day, had bathed daily, and had never harbored a flea in his life. This finally brought forth a permit from the Treasury Department to bring him home, provided | would present him to the National Zoo in Washington. | accepted the condition, leaving the practical details as to when the presentation should take place for future consideration.&#13;
The gun-boat Annapolis was about to start&#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sydney A. Cloman&#13;
for home, so the officers invited Wahb aboarc as an honored passenger, to join me later in San Francisco. Of course he became a great favorite with the jackies, and his life was as usual a most pleasant one. While the gun boat lay in Yokohama Harbor, a boat was sent ashore for sand to scrub decks, and of course Wahb was taken along. He seemed very restless and excited on the way in, and on reaching the beach ran back among the sand dunes and raced about in a curious way, but this was thought to be simply his delight in getting on land again. Finally he lay down. When the sailors had filled their sand-bags and went back to get him, he was cold in death. He was taken aboard and hurried into the sick-bay, but the surgeon’s services were limited to a post mortem. This revealed that just before going ashore he had drunk about a pint of green paint that had been left within his reach, and so poor little Wahb and his impressionistic insides were buried at sea with appropriate ceremonies. | have never had a pet since.&#13;
A GROUP OF MORO CHILDREN AT THEIR WATER SPORTS The natives of the Sulu Islands are familiar with the water from their earliest childhood&#13;
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              <text>The World’s Work °*&#13;
ARTHUR W. PAGE, EpitTor FRENCH STROTHER, Manacinc EpitTor BURTON J. HENDRICK, Associate Epitor&#13;
CONTENTS FOR MAY, 1923&#13;
Jobn M. Parker, - - - - - - - = = = = = = = = = = = = Frontispiece THE MARCH OF EVENTS—Awn EbpiTorIAL INTERPRETATION - - - - = =&#13;
Dr. F. G. Banting Frank T. Hines&#13;
George de Bothezat . Ada Louise Comstock Thomas Steckham Baker&#13;
=&#13;
VATCH OUT FOR THE BUCKET SHOPS - - - - - - - - - - = - A Warning Against the New Crop of Questionable Brokers&#13;
SALESMEN OF HATE: THE KU KLUX KLAN (Jllustrated) Rospert L. DuFFus I. How the Klan Was Built Up by Traveling Salesmen&#13;
NEWSPAPER ADVENTURES IN FLEET STREET (Jilustrated) Puitip Gipss Ill. Side Lights on Lord Northcliffe and on the Crippen Case&#13;
REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL TIMBER - - - - - - Mark SULLIVAN Politicians Who Might Be Willing to Oppose Harding&#13;
THE SILENT SALESMAN (Illustrated) - - - - = = FLtoyp W. Parsons How to Acquaint the Buying Public With Your Wares&#13;
PLANTING TREES TO SERVE OUR CHILDREN (Jilustrated) Lewis E. THeE!ss How Pennsylvania is Rebuilding Her Forests&#13;
THE FARTHEST-AWAY MAN (Illustrated) - - - - - - - - - - - - A Missionary in Yunnan Province, China - - - - - Charles E. Park&#13;
AUGUSTUS THOMAS—FROM ‘MIZZOURA” (Illustrated) W. A. DAVENPORT A Closeup View of the Head of the Producing Managers Association&#13;
A NEW. ERA FOR THE FARMER (lilustrated)- - - - - -,AARON SAPIRO What Codperative Marketing is Doing for the Farmer&#13;
DOUBLING THE GUARDS ON HEALTH - - -  SaAmuet Hopkins ADAMS 97 The New Profession of Public Health Officer&#13;
A TRIP AMONG MY ISLANDS (lJilustrated) - - - - - SypNeyY A. CLOMAN 104 Il. Further Adventures of An American Governor of the Sulu Islands&#13;
LOOKS AT BOOKS - - - - - - - Near the beginning of the front advertising section Reviews of and Remarks About New Books&#13;
THE WORLD’S WORKSHOP - - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Some Glimpses Behind the Scenes in the Editor’s Office&#13;
SUN-DIAL GOSSIP - - - - - - - - - Near the end of the front advertising section Chats About the New Books Published at Country Life Press&#13;
Copyright, 1923, in the United States, Newfoundland, Great Britain, and other countries by Doubleday, Page &amp; Co. All rights reserved TERMS: $4.00 a year; single copies 35 cents F. N. DOUBLEDAY, Pres. ARTHUR W. PAGE, Vice-Pres. NELSON DOUBLEDAY, Vice-Pres. RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY, Sec’y. S. A. EVERITT, Treas. JOHN J. HESSIAN, Asst. Treas.&#13;
6 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY ®) CounrtTrRY LIFE EDUCATIONAL REVIEW THE GARDEN MAGAZINE RADIO BROADCAST SHORT STORIES HEALTH BUILDER CHICAGO: People’s Gas Bldg. GARDEN CITY, N. Y. NEW YORK: 120 W. 32nd Street BOSTON: Tremont Bldg. LOS ANGELES: Van Nuys Bldg.&#13;
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JOHN M. PARKER&#13;
Governor of Louisiana, who has boldly opposed the Ku Klux Klan in his state and is endeavoring to bring to justice the individuals guilty of the Mer Rouge Murders&#13;
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Votume XLVI&#13;
THE MARCH&#13;
T IS an excellent thing that international interest should shift for a few weeks from Europe to the American Hemisphere; that is the purpose served by the Pan- American Congress at Santiago, Chile.&#13;
There is an impression abroad on this side of the water and in Europe that the relations of the United States and its South American neighbors are not especially cordial. There is no solid basis for such an idea. Tempera- mental differences there may be but these things are essentially superficial; they do not strike deeply into the roots of national life; more important still, they do not affect na- tional policies.&#13;
To those who think that North Americans and South Americans are naturally unsym- pathetic the best possible rejoinder is history itself. The only foreign policy that the United States had, for the first century and a half of its history, was intimately bound up with the South American Republics. Es- sentially the Monroe Doctrine rested upon the principle that the United States and the South American Republics had interests and ideals that were peculiarly their own, that their political systems and national aspira- tions were. different from those of the Old World, and that the Old World must never be permitted to supplant these systems and aspirations with their own. That doctrine was set forth just one hundred years ago; the present gathering at Santiago is therefore a significant centennial. The century that has passed has demonstrated its essential&#13;
 &#13;
NuMBER |&#13;
OF EVENTS&#13;
truth. Both the Americas have their own problems; yet from most of the deeply lying political vices of the Old World they are free. Their territories are not the prey of dynastic rivalries. There have been few cases where the different states have sought aggrandize- ment at the expense of their neighbors. They are not lands of great standing armies. Wars between them have been exceedingly rare. Domestic broils and revolutions have been common enough, yet in only a few instances have the nations themselves resolved their difficulties by force of arms. The fundamen- tal reason is that the states of the two Americas have in their very organization eliminated the great causes of war—dynastic rivalries, uncertain and shifting boundaries, racial antagonisms, economic encroachments, imperialistic ambitions. Both North and South America are free from these explosive forces, and that fact, despite the many other short- comings, represents an incalculable advantage.&#13;
A considerable part of South America joined hands with the United States in the war that was devoted to the promotion of these ideals. One result of that war has been an attempt to reorganize Europe with these ideals as the foundation. Thus the Monroe Doctrine, starting in America, has turned eastward to Europe itself. Under these circumstances no more happy year than 1923 could have been selected for another of those periodic conferences which have done so much to make harmonious the relations of the United States and its southern neighbors.&#13;
 &#13;
Photograph by Mr. Lyonde&#13;
DR. F. G. BANTING&#13;
The Toronto professor whose development of “ Insulin”’ as a treatment for diabetes is one of the most important of recent developments in medicine&#13;
 &#13;
GEORGE DE BOTHEZAT&#13;
Inventor of the Bothezat helicopter which has recently made several successful flights at Dayton, Ohio. Since 1918 Dr. de Bothezat has been employed by the United States Government as an expert in acronautics&#13;
 &#13;
: i 4 a i}&#13;
: -_ x © Harris &amp; Ewing FRANK T. HINES&#13;
The new head of the Veterans Bureau which has control of the many intricate problems affecting the former service men&#13;
 &#13;
© Eric Stahlberg&#13;
ADA LOUISE COMSTOCK&#13;
Recently elected President of Radcliffe College. Miss Comstock was formerly Dean of Women at the University of Minnesota and later was Dean of Smith College&#13;
 &#13;
Ct AAR TEKS 5&#13;
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© Clinedinst&#13;
THOMAS STECKHAM BAKER lhe newly elected President of the Carnegie Institute of Technology. Since 1919 Dr. Baker has been secretarv of the same institution&#13;
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 &#13;
The March&#13;
On “Going In” or “Staying Out.”&#13;
HE next six months promise to be especially momentous in the history of the United States. The adjournment of Congress provides a fortunate interlude during which the popular mind can digest the many facts and opinions that have been presented to it in the last four years. The proposed speaking tour of President Harding will naturally focus attention upon the over- whelming question of “ going in”’ or of “stay- ing out;”’ the debate, now reaching consider- able proportions, on the wisdom of American participation in the High Court of Justice, will exhibit the great controversy in a new light ;and the visits of distinguished foreigners, such as Lord Robert Cecil, will once more im- press the American people with the important part they can play in salvaging mankind. It is to be hoped that, by the time Congress as- sembles again, public opinion will have crys- tallized in sufficiently emphatic form to give direction to the Washington programme. The time has thus come for sober reflection. The facts in the world situation are sufficiently well known. The possible points of view have been abundantly canvassed. The one great purpose which the French invasion of Germany has accomplished is to proclaim the choice which now lies at the discretion of the civilized world. Is history to retrograde and the status that prevailed before 1914 again to control Europe or is the new idea to dominate? Is force still to be the determining fact in the relation of nations or is something in the nature of law and justice to obtain at least a certain influence? France, failing of sympathetic coéperation with Great Britain and the United States, has staked her future security upon force. Under existing condi- tions, that was her only recourse; her recent acts are entirely logical and entirely justified. The Ruhr Valley and Germany’s great econo- mic and industrial power in her hands, al- liances or understandings of various shades with Belgium, Italy, Poland, and other na- tions—only in such ways as this does France see any way of protecting herself from Ger- man assaults. But all this is the statesmanship of the discredited past. Precisely how it will end no man can foresee; that the result will be wars more horrible than the recent one, with the not improbable crumbling of European civili- zation, is the one fact that is perfectly clear.&#13;
of Events )&#13;
The key to this problem, as always, rests with the United States. The latest man to bring this truth home to Americans is Lord Robert Cecil. The business of the Harding Administration is to formulate some definite policy, present it to the public in effective form, and then to sink or swim on that policy. There is no political profit, as there is no satisfaction of patriotism, in a course of indecision. The history of the Harding Administration in itself proves that point. Its greatest moment was reached when Mr. Hughes stood upright before the assembled statesmen of the world and proclaimed, in the most concrete terms, the American policy&#13;
on the limitation of naval armament. This proceeding was notajle for two reasons. The&#13;
policy was boldly conceived and boldly an- nounced; it signalized leadership on a high plane; there had been no preliminary “feelers,’’ no sounding out of public sentiment, no closet consultations with Senators, journalists, or leaders of any kind. Lord Balfour publicly said that he knew nothing of the announce- ment until it was made, and the ignorance of the American public was the same. The impressive fact is that Americans everywhere acclaimed the Hughes statement not only for its inherent wisdom but for the way in which it was sent broadcast. What they admire above all in a public man is aggressive leader- ship; that is what they admired in Lincoln, Cleveland, and Roosevelt. In a mass the popular voice immediately accepted this leadership and made the newnaval programme a reality.&#13;
The second significant point is that this great success was in the field of foreign policy. The Administration held its highest position in the eyes of the people when it displayed a statesmanlike interest in the future of Europe and Asia. It was apparent that Americans were not so callous and ignorant on foreign affairs as it is customary to portray them.&#13;
The Root of the European Problem&#13;
NE picture suggested by Mr. R. M. Bryan, in a speech before the Chicago Council of Foreign Relations, might profitably be burned into the consciousness of thosé who are now glibly discussing the European problem, and displaying in the process an increasing sympathy for Ger- many. Mr. Bryan, who is the Eastern&#13;
 &#13;
10 | The World’s Work&#13;
manager of The Black Diamond and a rec- ognized authority on coal mining, has recently made a professional investigation of the ruined industrial and mining districts of France. To bring home to Americans a realization of the destruction Germany ’ wrought, and for which she promised to pay— a promise which she has persistently ignored— Mr. Bryan describes precisely what a similar invasion could do to the United States: “To appreciate properly what German destruction cost France, one must vis- ualize. The mere statement of the de- struction of three hundred thousand houses means nothing to the average person. That 4,000,000 people were rendered home- less means little more, because we have so many millions of homes and of people. So, to place before you the picture as | saw it when | first visited the devastated area in 1920, | would say that to appreciate what it would have meant to the United States if Germany had invaded&#13;
 &#13;
R. M. BRYAN&#13;
departments are similar to our large counties. They are, of course, or were, more densely populated.)&#13;
“Ninety-four per cent. of her wood pro- duction.&#13;
“Seventy per cent. of her sugar produc- tion.&#13;
“Fifty-five per cent. of her electric energy.&#13;
“Thirty-three per cent. of her coal produc- tion.&#13;
‘4,630 kilometers, or nearly 3,000 miles, of railroads.&#13;
‘Houses totally de- stroyed, 289,000; partly destroyed, 422,000.&#13;
“Roads in need of repair, 53,830 kilo- meters, or nearly 34,000 miles.&#13;
“Industrial lishments 4,084.&#13;
“Farm lands de- stroyed, 3,000,000 hectares, or 7,500,000 acres.&#13;
“To rebuild this de- vastated area, France, up to the first of this year, had spent of her own funds, approxi- mately 100,000,000,- ooo francs, or around $8,000,000,000. She&#13;
estab- destroyed&#13;
us, and had inflicted like destruction to our industries in compar-&#13;
Who, after a close survey of the damage done to France&#13;
by the War, likens it to the destruction of every mine,&#13;
every mill, every home in the United States east of a line connecting Erie, Pa., and Charleston, S. C.&#13;
has much more than this sum yet to spend before the country will&#13;
 &#13;
ison to oursize and the extent of our industries, one should take a map of the United States and draw a line from the city of Erie, Pa., on the Great Lakes, to Charleston, S. C., on the Atlantic, and consider that every mine, every mill, every industry of every kind, every home, east of that line, was not only destroyed, but, in effect, pulverized. That would, | believe, represent a fair picture of the suffering to the individual, and to industry, and to agriculture, that the German invasion cost France. It is this economic destruction that the pacifists in our country to-day would have us forget. “In detail, German invasion cost France: “Seven devastated departments. (These&#13;
be placed in the same position that it occupied prior tothe war. And to date the total cash that she has received from Germany is less than a half-billion dol- lars. Payments in kind have reached a value of about $400,000,000.&#13;
‘This sum, less than a tenth of what France has raised from her own people, as a four year’s payment by Germany, seems trifling when it is considered that three German industrialists alone have been able during the same period to sequester in foreign coun- tries, far from the German tax collector, and far removed from confiscation, a sum said to exceed one billion dollars.”&#13;
These are the basic facts that underlie&#13;
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The March&#13;
European politics and explain present French policies. [It would be a serious mistake in our thinking to get ourselves far removed from them. Imagine the United States a barren waste in the whole area east of a line drawn from Erie, Pennsylvania, to Charleston, South Carolina! When one has made a complete mental picture of such destruction, and thoroughly analyzed what it would mean to the present and future of the United States, one will have the appropriate background for discussing French policies. The one hope animating the French mind is to create a situation that will make impossible the rep- etition of such a horror. The Frenchman knows that the calamities which wouid follow another invasion would be infinitely more terrible than those catalogued above. The French hope to make such an invasion im- possible. No worthier motive would inspire a nation. That France may make mis- takes, that she may adopt a course that can- not end in success, that her acts may at times make her best friends grieve—all this is true; but at the same time it ts not surpris-&#13;
of Events 11&#13;
ing. If American Congressmen and Senators and American editors and publicists could constantly keep in mind the map which Mr. Bryan has drawn, current discussions of the European situation would be more enlighten- ing than is-invariably the case at present.&#13;
Facts About American Foreign Trade&#13;
HERE has never been a time when&#13;
foreign trade figured so extensively in&#13;
American politics as now, and for this reason the facts on “Our World Trade,”’ re- cently compiled and published by the United States Chamber of Commerce, have a particular importance. That America’s ex- panding trade necessarily brings the country into close political contact with the world is the argument that figures conspicuously in present discussions of American foreign policy. Precisely what does this trade amount to? What elements in our population does it chiefly concern? With what nations does our foreign trade bring us most intimately in contact? A little primer on these points&#13;
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                                              &#13;
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IF DEVASTATED FRANCE WERE AMERICA If the United States had had the same proportion of its area destroyed as France has had, all the country east of the line drawn from Erie, Pa., to Charleston, S. C., would be our devastated district, and with it would have gone the most important of our manufactures&#13;
aS&#13;
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12 The World’s Work&#13;
is necessary to correct international think- ing.&#13;
The most important fact brought to light is that the greatest single element in our exports to-day is the item known as “ manu- factures ready for consumption.” These comprise something more than 35 per cent. of the materials which Americans send abroad. That the largest item in our imports is “crude materials for use in manufacturing,’’ which amount to 35.9 per cent. of the whole is a detail similarly enlightening. This compila- tion brings out again the fundamental change that is taking place not only in American trade, but in American social and industrial life. It is all a part of that general prospect which is emphasized by the census figures, showing, for the first time, that the city popu- lation of the United States is greater than the rural. We have ceased to be a nation which drew its economic strength from its great exports of foodstuffs and raw materials. This circumstance had inspired recently many melancholy disquisitions on the future of the United States. The fate that overwhelms a nation in which the urban population is greater than the rural is constantly held up as a warning. In all this there is a good deal of bad historv and of worse economics. The fact is that there is no decay in American agriculture; the products of our farms are growing larger vear by year—a circumstance which is brought out by the statistical survey under review. These products are needed, in constantly increasing amount, to feed our growing population. Long before the war, the statisticians could foresee the day when the United States would not be able to feed its own people and would. become a food im- porting nation; that time is probably con- siderably in the distance, and, until it comes measurably within realization there will be no occasion for mournful disquisitions on the decline of agriculture.&#13;
Though manufactured articles are now the largest part of our export trade, only an ex- ceedingly small part of the output is sent abroad. The proportion seems to be some- where between. two and three per cent. In the year 1921 American manufactures reached the great total of $62,000,000,000, and, of these, only about $1,623,000,000 was exported. The fact that the single largest item in exported manufactures is the auto- mobile, and that only $70,000,000 out of a&#13;
total product of $2,000,000,000 leaves American shores—about 33 per cent.—forces home the same lesson. Other exported articles—cotton cloth, cotton wearing apparel, silk fabrics, silk wearing apparel, wool wearing apparel, agricultural machinery and implements, textile machinery, and railway cars and locomotives, while profitable and increasing in amount, really represent a small fraction of those pro- duced. As in the case of its agricultural wealth, the United States is herself consum- ing the great mass of the things produced. The country is still economically sufficient to a great extent; we are constantly producing and selling among ourselves; the market is an extremely active one, and the most desirable in the world.&#13;
While the produce of American farms as a whole no longer occupies chief place among American exports, the largest items in our exports are still agricultural. Unmanu- factured cotton, which leads, makes up nearly 15 per cent. of the materials sent abroad. Wheat, corn, and leaf tobacco are all more important in value than any one single output of our factories. The proportion the value of agricultural exports bear to agricultural prod- ucts is not given in this study, but from numer- ous other sources it appears to be about 15 per cent. The bearing of these facts, so far as international politics is concerned, becomes at once apparent; it is a truth which is rapidly having its effect in the thinking of the agricul- tural classes. This is that the farmers are far more dependent upon the foreign market than are the manufacturers. The Mississippi Valley is a much nearer neighbor to Europe, economically speaking, than is the Atlantic Seacoast. The loss of the foreign market would not be a particular calamity to the man- ufacturers of automobiles and locomotives, but it would be an extremely serious thing for our cotton and wheat growers. “Abroad”’ does not mean a great deal to the steel mills of the Pittsburgh region, but it means life and death to the rural population, for 15 per cent. of a man’s business comprises that surplus which implies the success or the failure of his enterprise.&#13;
These figures show—and it is perhaps their most important lesson—the lines along which our national interests run. What are the countries with which the United States chiefly trades? On this point there is a vast amount of misapprehension. For some rea-&#13;
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The March&#13;
son South America and Asia figure chiefly in most discussions of foreign trade, perhaps for the very fact that the possibilities of these markets lie in the future. At the present time they are not especially important. Europe takes 53.9 per cent. of our exports, and North America 23.0—a total of 76.18; while the whole of Asia takes 12.1 and the whole of South America only 5.9. The situation is worthy of more de- tailed analysis. “ Eu- rope,’ means chiefly Great Britain; “ North America’’ means chiefly Canada. To- vether these two coun- tries take 35 per cent. of our exports, while France takes 6 per cent., Japan 5 per cent., and Italy 3 per cent. Inthe matter of imports Canada leads with 11.3, Japan comes next—silk and silk goods—with 11. and Great Britain with io. It is apparent, therefore, that our in- terests are closely bound up with Europe and Canada, and, above all, with Great Britain and the great Dominion to the North.&#13;
HERBERT&#13;
has justified itself as&#13;
The Next Step in Budget Reform&#13;
HE latest session of Congress was both&#13;
encouraging and discouraging in the&#13;
matter of Budget Reform. Its en- couraging aspect was the demonstration of the savings which can be accomplished by the Budget system, when sincerely supported by the Administration and when ably executed by such conscientious and able directors as Gen- erals Dawes and Lord. The Budget has justified itself by the highest of all tests; it has instituted economies in all directions and has actually cut down the expenses of government. On July 1, 1922, the Federal Government anticipated a deficit for the coming fiscal year of $822,000,000. The present indica- tions, according to a recent statement by&#13;
 &#13;
M, LORD&#13;
Director of the Budget, a governmental department that an agency to decrease expenses&#13;
of Events 13&#13;
President Harding, is that this will be cut to $92,000,000. It is true that a later estimate of the Budget Director increases this deficit to $180,000,000, owing to the likelihood that Great Britain will exercise its option of paying the interest on its debt in Liberty Bonds in- stead of gold, yet even this amount is several hundred millions lower than the deficit antic- ipated at the begin- ningof the year. Pres-&#13;
ident Harding and General Lord do not&#13;
attribute this improve- ment in national finances entirely to the Budget, yet the record discloses that this has been an important in- fluence. Economies have been made to the extent of $321,000,000 and government re- ceipts have increased to the extent of $408,- 000,000. Increased prosperity, evidenced in steadily climbing tax receipts, thus ex- plains something more than half of the im- provement in the Fed- eral balance sheet, yet the decrease in expenditures, which is the re- sult of a saner method of making appropria- tions, is a consideration of the utmost impor- tance. The fact that $321,000,000 has thus been saved is the best possible evidence of the success of the Budget system. After this practical demonstration, there can be no slump back into the old hit-or-miss system. Yet Congress, in the final reckoning, again demonstrates that the reform was not com- plete. One of the main reasons-for adopting the Budget was the fact that this method of regulating appropriations offered the most effective way of abolishing the Pork Barrel. But the recent session proved that the present Budget system does not necessarily accom- plish that reform. Congress added to the War Department Bill appropriations of more than $28,000,000 for the so-called improve- ment of Rivers and Harbors. All well in- formed people know, without studying this&#13;
© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
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14 The World’s Work&#13;
particular appropriation, precisely what the whole thing means. Primarily the purpose is not to improve Rivers and Harbors; the purpose is to distribute public monies in the favored districts, and thereby add to the local prestige and political ambitions of the Congressmen responsible for them. The improvement of rivers and harbors is a desir- able Federal function, but the communities and Congressmen are not the appropriate authorities to stipulate what particular rivers and harbors shall be “improved.”’ That should be the responsibility of the Federal department which has the work in charge. Under a scientific budget system the War Department, after honest investigation, should put in its appropriation bill the neces- sary items. That is the function of the executive department. The duty of the law- making body is to decide whether it can af- ford to spend this money for the purposes indicated, or a part of it; it may properly reject items, or decrease them; but it cannot&#13;
 &#13;
WILLIAM M. TWEED&#13;
Formerly head of Tammany Hall, the Democratic&#13;
political ring that controlled New York City politics,&#13;
who typifies municipal corruption in its most shameless&#13;
form. This type of boss has disappeared from Amer- ican municipal politics&#13;
properly add items of its own, for in so doing it is encroaching upon a field in which it is entirely ignorant. To take this latter course is to violate the whole Budget conception and this is precisely what the House and Senate did when they added, entirely on their own responsibility, and in defiance of the rec- ommendations of experienced engineers, $28,000,000 to the War appropriations. And the motive was as bad as the act itself, for the motive was purely political, the desire to acquire favor with the constituencies by distributions of largess from the _ public treasury.&#13;
This does not mean that the present Budget system is a failure: it merely means that it is incomplete. It forms a splendid base upon which a perfected method of spending the public money may be constructed. One remedy for the ‘‘pork-barrel”’ evil is a new law giving the President authority to veto separate items in an appropriation bill. Most states that have adopted Budget systems have given the Governor this power. President Harding, had his hands been free, would unquestionably have saved the country this $28,000,000; to do so, however, he would have been obliged to veto the whole army appro- priation bill and thus have left the War De- partment without funds for the ensuing year. The power to veto separate items would have saved him from this dilemma.&#13;
Sometime, through the slow process of the years, we shall probably solve this problem as have other enlightened countries. Great Britain established its Budget system, after which other nations have modeled theirs, when Parliament, in 1713, adopted a simple new rule of procedure. This provided that no grant of public money should be made except on the recommendation of a minister of the crown. No private member of Parliament can introduce a bill carrying an appropriation.~ That is the duty of responsible ministers. Parliament may vote the money asked for, it may refuse to vote it, it may reduce the amount asked for; the thing it cannot do is to add new items of its own, or to increase ap- propriations. The Constitution of the Con- federate States contained a similar provision. Such an arrangement is essential to the com- plete working of the Budget system, but it will probably be some time before Congress reaches a height of self-abnegation that will result in the adoption of such a rule. Some-&#13;
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The March of Events 15&#13;
thing should be done, however, to make im- possible such legislative travesties as River and Harbor measures tacked on, at the last moment, to general appropriation bills.&#13;
Municipal Government—Its Improve- ment in a Quarter of a Century&#13;
HAT progress has been made in American municipal government in the last twenty-five years? The&#13;
Citizens Union of New York has recently ob- served the quarter century of its existence, and, in connection with this anniversary, has published a pamphlet recounting the political history of New York during that period. The story is an exceedingly interesting one and does not lack encouraging features. If the experience of New York may be taken as typical of all American urban communities, the tone of municipal government in America has distinctly improved. The famous in- dictment of Bryce, in his “American Com- monwealth,”’ that the government of cities represented the “one conspicuous failure” of the American system is by no means so true now as when it was written. The transfor- mation is not yet complete; but New York politically is a far different place than it was twenty-five years ago. “It is not likely,” says this report, which is written by Mr. Walter T. Arndt, “that we shall ever see an- other Tweed—or even another Croker. The vicious element has learned its lesson. So, too, have the reformers.”&#13;
Indeed, if we really wish to understand the steady betterment in the government of American cities we should begin our survey fifty years ago, and take William M. Tweed as the starting point. For Tweed illustrated municipal corruption in its most shameless and most highwaymanlike aspect. The Tammany Hall of that period was not inap- propriately known as “The Forty Thieves”’; its method was not the method of graft; it was simply that of plunder—of direct stealing. Money was lifted from the city treasury by&#13;
) the millions and grotesquely transparent at-&#13;
tempts made to conceal the thefts by falsify- ing the books. By the time Mr. Richard Croker had acceded to the Tammany temple, however, these pioneer methods of robbing&#13;
) the city treasury had changed. The history&#13;
of Tammany Hall under the Croker régime is indelibly contained in the two investigations&#13;
 &#13;
nid&#13;
 &#13;
RICHARD CROKER Whose influence in the Tammany ring was of a type&#13;
that no longer exists. The methods of his régime were&#13;
somewhat more refined than those of Tweed, but the&#13;
present finds itself happily largely rid of both types of boss, and further signs of improvement are in sight&#13;
made—one in 1893, and one in 1899—the first immortalized as the Lexow Inquiry and the second as the Mazet. The régime of blackmail had now succeeded to the régime of loot. The more refined method was to use the city departments as machinery with which to extract tribute from the violators of the law. Though most departments were made to serve this purpose, the Police Depart- ment was the most extensive producer of illegitimate revenue. A great city like New York contains thousands of persons who wish to earn a living by methods that are pro- hibited by the criminal law; such as gam- blers, prostitutes, thieves, jerry-builders, dis- honest contractors, and a multitude of others. The new method of corruption consisted in permitting such evil-doers to break the law provided they paid the politicians a percent- age of their profits. This was technically known as “protection.” Illicit revenue was obtained on a large scale in other ways—&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
    &#13;
16&#13;
franchise grants to corporations, sales to the city of real estate and other property at ex- cessive prices, renting of dock and other privileges to favored tenants on absurdly low terms. The student of morals can properly appraise the spiritual improvement which these methods of “protection”’ and “honest graft’? represented over the old practices of unabashed plunder; they did represent, how- ever, a growing appre- ciation of the proprie- ties of civilization; they were another manifestation of that hypocrisy which is the tribute that vice pays to virtue, for they re- cognized the fact that corruption must now be indirect, invidious, stealthy.&#13;
The political history of New York for the last quarter century represents an attempt to destroy these meth- ods—to extinguish “protection,”’ “ honest graft,” franchise mon- gering, dishonest con- tracts and the like. To a considerable ex- tent the battle has been won. Tammany Hall, vicious an insti- tution as it still is, is not the Tammany Hall of Tweed and Croker.&#13;
and blackmail.&#13;
 &#13;
JOHN F. The present mayor of New York, whose administration, while open to many criticisms, is not founded upon graft Individuals may occasionally still play the old game, but the day of organized corruption is&#13;
The World’s Work&#13;
Tammany Hall. At the end of Mr. Hylan’s first term his Republican opponents started an investigation of the city departments in the famous old Lexow manner. It was evi- dently their expectation, and possibly their hope, that they would succeed in demonstrat- ing that the old Tammany evils of “ protec- tion’’ and “honest graft’’ were still prevalent. The attempt was a failure; a few equivocal facts were turned up, but the real result of the investigation was to prove that the old régime of violence, of levying blackmail upon the vicious ele- ments of the com- munity, had prac- tically passed away. That offenses of this sort are committed constantly is doubtless the fact; but the dif- ference is that whereas before they were de- tails of one vast system of corruption and blackmail they are now more or _ less sporadic misdemean- ors of individuals. All this does not mean that the municipal problem of New York and other great Amer- ican cities is solved. The greatest vice from which the com-&#13;
HYLAN&#13;
over&#13;
In fact, in the last&#13;
quarter century, Tammany Hall has _ held undisputed sway over the city for only four years ;—that was the first four years covered in this survey, from 1898 to 1902, the administration of the late Robert A. Van Wyck. For ten of the last twenty-five years administrations controlling the city have been anti-lammany in their influence and for the remaining time the forces controlling city government have been more or less divided in their allegiance to the Democratic headquarters in Fourteenth Street. The pres- ent government of New York is not one of which the city can be particularly proud, but its evils are very different from those which afflicted the community in the heyday of&#13;
 &#13;
munity now suffers is that of an ignorant and vulgar demagogism and of an extremely avaricious partisanship. But while these are evils of a positive kind, they are far different from those which have assailed the community in the past. It is impossible to read this record of twenty-five years without a feeling of encouragement and of a renewed interest in meeting the dangers that still threaten the greatest of American cities.&#13;
“America’s Race Heritage”&#13;
ORE and more the fact is becoming apparent that the most pressing question in American life is not rep-&#13;
arations or the readjustment of American&#13;
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The March of Fvents 7&#13;
relations with Europe, but immigration. It is the most important subject because it is the most fundamental. The part that America is to play in the reorganization of mankind and in introducing new conceptions into the prog- ress of the race, becomes more emphasized every year, and, to fulfil this rdle, the United States needs all its finest energies. That this country has been able to render great services in recent years is ex-&#13;
plained by the cir- ———&#13;
cumstance that, in the centuries of American history, its people&#13;
 &#13;
CENSUS OF| PER&#13;
furnishes an indispensable basis for the study of the immigration question. It is a careful statistical analysis of the contributions which the several countries have made to the peopling of our forty-eight states. It begins with the settlement of Jamestown in 1607 and ends with the arrival of almost the latest immigrant ship at Ellis Island.&#13;
Mr. Burr’s first summary is that for 1790 —a year after the founding of the Nation in its present form. His table, shown at the left of the racial stocks&#13;
DESCEND- | ANTS IN 1920 | (Estimate&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
RACIAL STOCK | — 1790 CENT. | on basis of&#13;
have developed a | 1790 per- Making up our popu- character, a purpose, | centages) lation then settles a capacity for using ——|——— en many questions that their resources which English-Welsh. | 2,605,699 | 81.7 | 36,511,140 are q subject of racial have reached their Scotch (mostly | propaganda now.&#13;
most complete expres- an cs | 221,562 | 7.0 178,757 Mr. Burr selects as sion at a time when Protestants). | 61,534 1.9 ——- his first period of im- the world most needed Gorman (mostly | migration the seventy them. And we must Protestants) | 176,407 5.6 | 2,502,600 Years from 1790 to alwaysremember that Dutch. |. | | 78,959 2.5 1,117,232 1860. At the present the basic sources of French (mostly | time there are 10,144,- American power and Huguenot) . | 17,619 0.6 268,136 955 Americans living wealth are not the Others. . ./| 10,664| 0.3 17,876 who are either surviv- mines, the fertile en ’ eR Gaeineraaae peat -o ing immigrants of prairies, the forests, Vamaes |. | 3.17908 oo 44,689,278 that era or the de-&#13;
 &#13;
the water courses and&#13;
the natural advantages upon which foreign commentators are likely to lay chief emphasis; the final explanation is the quality of people that have made the Nation.&#13;
Any pertinent study of the immigration problem must therefore begin with this ques- tion: What are the races which laid the foundation of the United States and which explain the unparalleled progress made in the Nineteenth Century? Upon this subject there is much loose statement abroad at the present time. An expression coined some years ago by Mr. Israel Zangwill, “The Melting Pot,” is responsible for much mis- apprehension. Even English writers usually begin their disquisitions by informing their readers that the United States is not homo- geneous in its population—that it is a be- wildering mélange of foreign races and foreign tongues, with no one strain that can be called “dominant.” It is for this reason that a modest little volume by Mr. Clinton Stoddard Burr, “America’s Race Heritage,’’ has per- formed a valuable service in clearing away this misconception. This book in_ itself&#13;
scendants of such im- migrants. Their racial origin is as follows:&#13;
English . . — 4,410,197 Scotch, Scotch-Irish, Welsh 602,545 A Sr a ee ee eee 3,079,032 German, Austrian, Swiss, Balto-&#13;
German ae Soe oh 1,130,587 BE text ol e-e og, G2 408,926 SCONGUNAVIAR 2 35,370 Dutch, Flemish, Frisian. . : 31,292 Italian (mostly north) oe 20,000 Jews (mostly Spanish or German) 375,000 Mexican (white) . . . . . . 12,000&#13;
10,104,055 The most significant feature of this table is that America’s greatest gain from immigra- tion, up to the time of the Civil War, was English. So much emphasis is laid, in all discussions of immigration, on the exodus that took place in the ’forties and ’fifties from Ireland and Germany, that another fact usually escapes observation: that is that the departures from England itself in the same period were greater than from either of these countries.&#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
18&#13;
The modern period of immigration is that from 1860 to 1920. In this sixty years the immigrants from Ireland were slightly more numerous than those from England, and those from Germany much more so. Mr. Burr presents the following table, showing the contributions of this “old immigrant stock”’ of the modern period to the population of the United States in 1920.&#13;
0 Se ee 4,075,302 Scotch, Scotch-Irish, Welsh 1,929,663 Irish (Celtic) 4,605 ,463 German, Swiss, Austrian 9,166,055 Scandinavian, Icelandic 3,284,354 Dutch, Frisian, Flemish . . . . 460,572 French, French-Canadian, Walloon, Breton .&#13;
1,525,553&#13;
 &#13;
25,046,962&#13;
What then are the elements that make up the American white population to-day? Mr. Burr presents tables which study the subject from all aspects, but his final summary&#13;
showing the “ancestral stock’ for 1920 will suffice:&#13;
English . .. 45,540,139 Other Anglo-Saxo 5,584,714 Irish . 8,553,591 German 12,806,242 Frnach . . . 3,168,615 Dutch, Flemish . 1,609,096 Scandinavian 3,455,922 Slav Soctttei bon: 1 3,993,076 Latin (except French) 3,723,051 Jewish 3,250,000&#13;
(Races with a contribution less than 1,000,000 omitted from tabulation above)&#13;
Of the 95,000,000 white people in the United States at present, therefore, 45,500,000 are of English descent. The present popula- tion of England is about 32,500,000; in other words, there are 13,000,000 more people of English origin in the United States than in England itself. But this is not the most pertinent fact brought out by Mr. Burr’s exhaustive researches. From the broad standpoint of ethnology Englishmen, Scotch- men, Irishmen, Germans, French (at least northern French) Dutch and Scandinavians form a compact, homogeneous race. _ Differ- ing as they may in language and religion, we do not have to go back many ages in history to find them all members of the same ethnic&#13;
Tne World’s Work&#13;
family. Between their descendants to-day there is really no consciousness of racial dissimilarities or antagonisms. There are differences, of course, between an English- man, a Scotchman, an Irishman and a German; but the differences are not deep- lying; they are rather artificial, the product of external circumstances; the distinctions do not reside in the germ-plasm, and there are no essential bars to the amalgamation of all these strains into an integrated people. Coms- pared with the Mediterranean and Oriental races the English, Scotch, Irish, German and Scandinavians are ethnic brothers. Probably the most stimulating fact brought cut by Mr. Burr is that this group makes up eighty per cent. of the American population to-day. He thus shows that America is not a hopeless mixture of alien peoples; but that the over- whelming majority of our population belongs to a single racial group—and that a group which stands in the forefront of civilization. So long as the proportion is maintained as it is, there is no danger of that “mongreliza- tion” which has caused the decay of so many nations. A people made up of the mingling of English, Scotch, Irish, Germans, and Scandinavians will not be a “mongrel race” but one that is of pure and homogenous stock. This then, is “America’s race heritage’; it is a noble one, and its preservation is the greatest obligation that rests upon the American Nation.&#13;
What the Railroads are Worth&#13;
FTER nearly nine years of work by its Bureau of Valuation and the expendi-&#13;
ture of more than seventy-five million dollars (of which the railroads furnished fifty-four million) the Interstate Commerce Commission has announced tentative valua- tions for thirty-eight American railroad systems, comprising a little less than one- third of the railroad mileage of the country. These valuations are made at pre-war costs and values, and additions made since are in- cluded at cost, less depreciation. Less than 10 per cent. of the total is for land values. The tentative figures for thirty-eight sys- tems compare with their funded debt and outstanding stocks as follows:&#13;
Total valuation..... $6,993,348,099 Funded debt........ 3,557,777,990&#13;
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The March of Events 19&#13;
Equity for stock..... $3,435,570, 103&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
Preferred stock...... 590,566,631 Equity for common ae ae ae $3,845,003,472 Common stock...... 2,103,609,488 Value above total cap- MansAtION........ $741,393,9084&#13;
The “water”’ that existed in the capitaliza- tion of our railroads years ago has been pretty thoroughly squeezed out by repeated re- organizations, and expenditures that have been made by some roads and not capitalized have brought total property values above the amount of outstanding securities. The Inter- state Commerce Commission, of course, paid no attention to security issues in arriving at its valuations, but its findings are a justi- fication of the railroads’ capitalization in the aggregate, and they should make it possible for the Commission to treat the roads in the matter of rates under the new transportation law so that they can soon finance needed additions by the sale of a proper proportionate amount of stock and bonds. The public, when it knows it is not being asked to pay dividends on “watered” stocks, will be will- ing to see railroad credit reéstablished in order to make possible railroad growth.&#13;
“Watered Labor”&#13;
HE period of railroad construction in this country and of railroad and in- dustrial combination gave the phrase, “watered capital.” The period of high labor costs that has obtained during and since the war may give economic historians a companion phrase, that of “watered labor.” This phrase will not be so popular with those who still enjoy mouthing the other one even though repeated reorganizations have squeezed the “water” out of the capitaliza- tion of our railroads (so the Interstate Com- merce Commission now bears testimony) and many industrial combinations, like the Steel Corporation, have put earnings back into their properties until there is now no question that their assets equal capitalization. But with the inarticulate “middle class”, that has not profited by labor’s gain, and with the now articulate farmer, who has suffered because of it, it seems likely that the phrase “watered labor” might become popular. Business is going ahead at a good pace but the complaint of business men is that profits&#13;
are small. The railroads are carrying record traffic yet they are not earning the 53 per cent. on their valuation that Congress said they were entitled to. They are still suffer- © ing from the liberal treatment that labor enjoyed under government operation. There is also greater activity in building throughout the country than ever before but the unions have a strangle hold upon it that is sending building costs up again. Union rules re- garding the training of apprentices have created a scarcity in the ranks of skilled labor. In Chicago, for example, plasterers are getting as much as twenty dollars a day and the union exercises complete control over the supply. And the Federal immigration law limits the supply of unskilled labor. Builders see no prospect for change in these conditions and are going ahead in an effort to catch up with the country’s need for buildings.&#13;
If labor leaders are wise they will not press demands for higher wages at a time when one- third of our population is getting a dollar for its farm products that is worth only 69 cents when it comes to buying other things with it, and when our export trade is greatly reduced. But labor leaders are seldom wise except in their own selfish interest, and this recent experience was of such short duration that it left little impression on the minds of wage earners. It will take a longer period of un- employment to squeeze the “water” out of labor, and labor itself will hasten the arrival of that period if it makes extortionate de- mands on capital and the public. For only as long as higher labor costs can be passed on to the buyer, as in the building business, will capital continue to employ labor. As soon as the buyer withdraws from the market, capital will hasten to follow him, and labor will be left without work.&#13;
The economic welfare of the country calls for still further adjustments for the benefit of the farmer and others in like predicament. If labor persists in increasing the maladjustment, it will be the one to suffer most from the pro- cess of squeezing that will inevitably follow.&#13;
Marriage, Divorce, and the Federal e— Constitution&#13;
EVERAL public causes are now energeti- S cally competing for the honor of in- scribing themselves as the Twentieth Amendment to the Federal Constitution. The&#13;
 &#13;
20 The World’s Work&#13;
stimulating fact is that, in the last ten years, the American people have discovered that it is not so difficult to change their fundamental instrument as they had supposed; almost any well supported plan of reform, therefore, now automatically assumes the shape of a con- stitutional amendment. Child labor, the prohibition of injunctions in strikes, the “liberal’’ movement to clip the wings of the United States Supreme Court, the propos- al for a Federal Initiative and Referendum—- such are a few of the public causes that are now seeking to become the Twentieth Amendment. Perhaps the one that will enlist the largest public support, however, is that which is intended to give the Federal Government control over marriage and di- vorce.&#13;
Though there is ample justification for placing this most important of human re- lationships under Federal control, there is probably no one subject upori which there is so much loose discussion. The familiar statistics are again forming the basis for much bewailing of the decadence of American morals. About 115,000 divorces are granted in the United States every year, and it seems to be true that the ratio of increase is con- siderably greater than the increase of the population. The deplorable truth is that about one in ten of American marriages is broken up by the courts. In 1906—which is apparently the most recent date for which comparative statistics are available—the United States granted 72,052 divorces, Aus- tria, 2,309, Germany, 12,180, France (1905) 13,098, and England and Wales 670. Evident- ly the per capita record for the United States is much higher than for these European coun- tries. Yet this fact furnishes no ground for statements widely made that domestic morals are more depraved in this country than in Europe, for common observation teaches quite the contrary. Who believes that the average American has a lower sense of the obligations of married life than the average Frenchman or German or Englishman? Who believes that the decencies of domesticity are better preserved in South America, where there is no divorce, than in the United States, where divorce is said to be “easy?” The idea is preposterous. What the statistics really indicate is the greater social and econo- mic independence of the American woman. In all the aspects of life she is a freer agent&#13;
than is her European sister, and therefore declines to submit to the indignities the European wife too commonly accepts as inevitable; she seeks an escape in divorce, not because she is more immoral, but because she is more self-respecting. Above all she is far more economically independent than the European woman; she has absolute control of her own property; she has plenty of op- portunities for earning her own living; she is therefore not obliged to endure an intolerable husband merely for the sake of support. Properly interpreted, the divorce statistics are not an evidence of a decadent civilization; it is even possible to maintain that they are quite the reverse.&#13;
There are, however, other reasons for Federal control of the marriage situation; chief of them is the necessity of uniformity in the marriage and divorce laws. At present there is a bewildering diversity. South Carolina does not grant divorces for any cause; New Hampshire acknowledges fourteen good excuses for breaking the marriage tie; New York grants divorces for one cause only— infidelity. The record discloses that there are thirty-five causes ‘recognized by the laws of the forty-eight states. The State of Washington tops the climax with a so-called omnibus law; this comprehensive measure specifies no partic- ular reasons for rupturing the marriage bond, but leaves it to the discretion of the judge in each case to decide whether the divorce is war- ranted. These varying laws produce the most deplorable complications. The same couple may be legally married in one state, but, by stepping into another, their marriage is immedi- ately transformed into an illicit relationship. Children who in one state are lawful sons and daughters of their parents are illegitimate under the laws of a neighboring community. The comic papers once related the story of a man who had traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific, been married and divorced nine times, and found, at the end, that he had no wife upon whom he could depend for support. New York State, which grants divorces only for the violation of the marriage vow, always forbids the guilty party from contracting another alliance; yet this same guilty party can defy this prohibition merely by crossing the line into Connecticut or New Jersey. The status of such marriages in New York State is undefined. It is true that the Con- stitution contains a “full faith and credit”&#13;
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The March of Events 21&#13;
clause, which is supposed to compel one state to recognize the validity of the legislative acts and judicial decisions of all the others—a clause which might seem to compel New York State to acknowledge the legal- itv of marriages which it had especially forbidden; vet at times New York has declined to apply the “faith and credit clause”’ in this sense.&#13;
This is the main evil which the proposed con- stitutional amendment would correct. Such an amendment, however, would not settle the di- vorce problem. It would merely precipitate the debate. It gives Con- gress the power to fix a&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
uniform divorce law, but makes no attempt to say&#13;
A SOUTHERN ‘“‘CROPPERS” FAMILY These people are examples of the most unfortunate of farmtenants. Their posses-&#13;
what this law shall be; sions are almost non-existent, and their livelihood is obtained by securing advances that is. it-does not fix the ftom the owner of the land they cultivate. At the harvest they divide the crop&#13;
causes of divorce. An&#13;
with the landlord, and pay with their portion for the advances received during the year. This process nets them about three dollars a week, and on this they com-&#13;
attempt to do this in monly raise their families. The system under which they work has the further Washington would prob- disadvantage of making them wanderers, who work on different patches of ground&#13;
ably provide the -apital&#13;
with one of the 1 »st animated discussions in its history. It *_ not likely that Bishop Man- ning, of the New York Diocese, and the Rev. Percy Stickney Grant, would agree upon a comprehensive divorce law. Yet a uniform divorce law there must be; there is no one single social reform which is so worthy of the attention of American lawmakers.&#13;
Max O’Rell, in his “Brother Jonathan,” represents the brakeman of an Ohio train, bawling out, as it came toa stop: “Columbus! Twenty minutes for divorce!’’ It is time to change the conditions that gave some justi- fication for this celebrated joke.&#13;
“Renters” and ‘‘Croppers” in the South&#13;
ELDOM has a University put forth a more pertinent social study than “ How Farm Tenants Live,” by J. A. Dickey&#13;
and E. C. Branson, just issued from the press of the University of North Carolina.&#13;
each vear&#13;
So much has been written, in somewhat im- pressionistic form, of the “hill-billie’’ and the “cracker,” that this first hand, scientific in- vestigation has the value of a real revelation. The fact that it comprehends only 51 tenant families living in Chatham County does not mean that it is not a perfect picture of farm tenancy inthe South. There are 317,000 souls in the families of white tenants in North Car- olina, and the picture given of these selected specimens ina single North Carolina County is accurately descriptive of them all. The fact that half the farmers of the South are tenants, not proprietors, is only one of the distressing facts brought to light; it discloses a type of tenancy that is peculiar to the South—that is, indeed, a product of conditions following the Civil War.&#13;
Farm tenancy is not uncommon in the North and in the West, but it is very different in its character from that of the South. The Western tenant is usually a man of capital,&#13;
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22 The World’s Work&#13;
who hires a farm and operates it purely as a commercial transaction. He is, in a certain sense, a business man; one fifth the tenants of Chester County, Pennsylvania, possess capital ranging from $3,000 to $9,000 each, and one hundred tenants recently discovered in lowa were operating with capital ranging from $20,000 to $60,000 each. Nothing like this is found among the farm tenants of the South. “Tenancy in the South is not a matter of deliberate choice on the part of farmers with operating capital; it is a sad necessity on the part of moneyless men... . It is a social estate.’’ It is necessary first of all to revise current terminology. Tenants are divided into two classes, “renters”? and “croppers.”’ The “renters” have a certain resemblance to the “capitalistic’’ tenants of the North and East in that they possess something in the shape of stock in trade. They own their own farm tools, their cattle, their household goods; they can “run them- selves,’ as the phrase goes. They are them- selves separated into two classes, “kinsman renters’’—son, sons-in-law, nephews, and the like, who have been established on their farms by proprietor-relatives, and “self-help renters” who have only themscives to depend upon. These two classes form the economic and social cream of Southern farm tenants, though their condition in life is not especially rosy. The tenant that gives especial cause for anxiety is the “cropper,’’ a type of agricul- turist that is found only inthe South. Though the “cropper”’ has been a feature of Southern life since 1865, and though there are now about 225,000 in the Southern States, the word describing him has only recently found lodg- ment in the dictionary. The difference be- tween a “renter’’ and a “cropper,” lies in the fact that, whereas the first “runs him- self,’’ the latter is “run by his landlord.” He possesses no property and has no per- manent habitation. He is constantly on the move fromfarmtofarm. “It ain’t no trouble for me to move,” says the “cropper,” “I ain’t got nothing but er soap gourd and er string er red peppers. All | have ter do is call up Tige, spit in the fireplace and start down ther road.”” The cropper is as restless and as itinerant as the Wandering Jew; with his bedraggled family he goes from place to place, cultivating one farm after another on “halves.”” He supplies nothing except his labor and that of his wife and children; the&#13;
landlord furnishes everything else—land, dwelling, firewood, work stock, implements, pantry supplies, and even small advances of money. When the crop is gathered he gets half, and with deductions made for these advances,the landlord gets the rest. This is certainly a strange way to pick up a living, yet the most discouraging fact is that the “cropper” himself, though an object of anxi- ety to college professors and social reformers, is entirely satisfied with his own lot and man- ages to extract a considerable amount of pleasure from it.&#13;
The “cropper’s”’ self-satisfaction, however, is purely a manifestation of a sunny tempera- ment; it has no relation to circumstances, for the external conditions of his life are about as hard as can be found anywhere in this coun- try. “The croppers,” say the authors of this pamphlet, “are The Forgotten Men that Walter H. Page wrote about.” Their dwellings are wooden shanties, sometimes mere log houses. “In more than half of these dwell- ings it is possible to study astronomy through the holes in the roof and geology through the cracks in the door.” They have an illiteracy rate of 10 per cent.—much lower now than thirty years ago—their sanitary con- ditions are deplorable, their reading matter consists of an occasional weekly newspaper, patent medicines serve them in lieu of the doctor, their wives are hoe-hands in the fields, and their children are also set to work at seven or eight, boys and girls alike. The church and the Sunday school play little part in the cropper’s existence, though moon- shining and boot-legging are well developed occupations. His average money income is $153 a year; on this— less than $3 a week—he commonly suports a fair sized family.&#13;
About one fourth of all the white tenants in the South are “croppers.” Though the outlook for this sedimentary population is not hopeful, the condition of the other ten- ants—‘renters,’’ both ‘“‘self-helping’” and “kinsmen”’ assisting—is not so discouraging. These are not a degenerate race; the men are virile and industrious, and the women in- telligent and fecund; their homes are com- monly neat, though humble, and their farms are well cared for. Illiteracy prevails to a considerable degree, though the boys and girls frequently reach the high schooi grades. But the lot even of the “renters” is a hard one; how many Northern young&#13;
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The March of Events 23&#13;
men and women would care to marry on the prospect of a cash income of $20 a month, which is all that these Southern “renters” can look forward to? The improvement of their opportunities is one of the great problems facing the Southern States. They are good stock, they are sound morally and physically, they are intelligent and industrious, they contain the makings of that robust yeomanry which is the salvation of any country. What can be done for them? California has developed a system under which the state, by making properly safe- guarded loans to farmers, enables them to become proprietors. Apparently the plan is working well. Professor Branson believes that this idea, or some modification of it, can be applied in North Carolina and other Southern States.&#13;
American Work for American Children&#13;
[tier Americans who have close to their hearts the health of American boys and girls should be grateful for the&#13;
recent announcement that Herbert Hoover&#13;
has accepted_the presidency of the American&#13;
Child Health Association, an organization&#13;
which is to be devoted to the task of carrying&#13;
the doctrine of good health to children. And, what is of great importnace, is the news that the American Relief Administration, which is just completing eight years of child welfare work in Europe, will adapt to American life and conditions the knowledge gained in that effort.&#13;
The American Child Health Association is&#13;
a combined organization, with the American&#13;
Child Hygiene Association and the Child Health Organization of America as its com- ponents. Its purpose is to disseminate know-&#13;
ledge of the care of the child from the prenatal stage to maturity. So promising is the future under the plans now formulated that men and women child health advocates in all parts of the country, numbering thousands and comprising non-professional as well as professional workers, have endorsed the move- ment and are lending it active support. The Association plans to maintain a clearing house of sound and up-to-date in- formation on child health subjects, so that community organizations throughout the country will be able to keep in constant touch&#13;
with the most effective work on child health.&#13;
Such a service has been attempted before and was as successful as limited resources per- mitted it to be. Now, however, with the Association’s new organization and the vast knowledge acquired through years of ex- periment and experience, the work will be essayed on a scale unprecedented.&#13;
The viewpoint of the Association and its officers is that there can be no excuse for a condition which permits the deaths of 200,000 infants in this country each year, as well as the deaths of 20,000 mothers in childbirth, nor does the organization believe that there is any justification for the tragic condition of the school children of America, four million of whom are reported to be under- nourished. It has been contended by experts in child health that the death rate easily could be cut in half if local organizations made it their business to instruct mothers in the care of their sons and daughters, and that similar activity in the homes and schools would largely eradicate under-nourishment within a comparatively short time.&#13;
The fact that the Association is providing a central clearing house of information on child health subjects does not mean that it will seek in any sense of the word to domin- ate the work of the local bodies. To the contrary, that is far from being the purpose of the Association. The directors believe that with such a central bureau it will be possible, among other things, so to chart the entire country that each of the respective community bodies will coéperate with the others, hence making the experience of one available to all when similar problems arise. Likewise, with the local organizations using the clearing house as a source of infor- mation, it will be possible to direct speedily and clearly those individuals or organizations wishing to communicate with the child health workers in their respective communities.&#13;
As the bystander in the present world crisis, this country has had ample opportunity to witness the decline of nations and the effects of unrest and famine on millions of children. True, the gigantic operation for the salvaging of human bodies, as conducted by Americans in Russia and elsewhere in the last eight years, has relieved the intensity of the situa- tion somewhat. There is no doubt that mil- lions of children would have died except for this work. But these children of Central Europe and Russia were struck down by&#13;
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24 The World’s Work&#13;
famine and disease and because they had been in the paths of contending armies. America can make no such answer when at- tention is called to the high infant mortality ate—not so high as in most civilized countries it is true, but still too high—and under- nourishment in this country. America has bountiful crops; sanitation has protected the country from many epidemics, and the soldier has not ground our fields. Conditions thus favor the development of the sturdiest and most effective people in the world. The point at which to begin is the child. This coérdinated effort wisely recognizes this fact, and it should receive the support of all Ameri- cans interested in the future of their country.&#13;
An Organization for Group Athletics&#13;
HE physical examinations carried on&#13;
under the draft act during the war&#13;
showed a distressing state of imperfec- tion in the young manhood of the Nation. About a third of the men between 18 and 45 were sufficiently defective to be excluded from military service. This means, of course, that on the average they carry on their peace time vocations less happily and fruitfully than if they were really well. The publication of these&#13;
 &#13;
facts shocked Americans for a few days. Everyone said that something should be done about this all-important matter. Then most everyone forgot this danger to the Republic along with a lot of others and went about their business or pleasure as before.&#13;
But one of the encouraging things about the American Democracy is that after the crowd has passed on to other subjects there is almost always some little group left with a determination to do something. There is such a group working now upon the improve- ment of the average health of the youth of the Nation. It is organized under the title “The National Amateur Athletic Federation of America.” It has the President of the United States as honorary president and several notables as honorary vice-presidents, so that all may know that it is a worthy organization. The executive committee consists of rep- resentatives of organizations which now affect the health of some parts of the com- munity, such as the Army, the Y. M. C. A., the Boy Scouts, and the like. [In other words, the organization’s primary purpose is to synchronize the efforts of all agencies now at work and fill in health programmes where no agencies now reach. The main idea at pres- ent is to teach everyone in the United States&#13;
AMATEUR GROUP ATHLETICS&#13;
The War brought out the unsuspected fact that a very large percentage of our people are physically handicapped, and&#13;
as a result the National Amateur Athletic Federation of America has been organized to promote healthful exercise in&#13;
order to decrease that percentage. Its purpose is to synchronize the efforts of all the agencies now working on the problem and to fill in health programmes where none now exist&#13;
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The March of Events 25&#13;
the value of outdoor exercise—of play for everybody. Any policy of this kind which reaches any stage of advancement will neces- sarily imply physical examinations for every- body and this in turn will mean health rec- ords. With the records based on the exami- nations to show what problems exist and campaigns of education and exercise organized to meet these problems, a great change might be comparatively easily accomplished.&#13;
But this will grow up slowly. At present any one who wants in- formation about group athletics or a pro- gramme for conduct- ing them, either for a town ora factory or a community oracounty can write to Mr. El- wood Brown of the National Amateur Athletic Federation of America, at 20 Broad Street, New York, and get help.&#13;
A New Museum for American Art&#13;
T A time when there is so much interest&#13;
in the artistic past of Egypt, there is a cer- tain satisfaction § in learning that America has an artistic record of its own, and that the Metropolitan Museum of New York is preparing to preserve it in an especially attractive form. In speaking of America’s artistic monuments one thinks of the Aztecs, the Mayas, the Incas, or the turquoise work of the Pueblo Indians, but the latest enterprise of this distinguished Museum comes nearer home. Mr. Robert W. de Forest and his wife have given $250,000 for the construction of a building to house the&#13;
artistic remnants of America in colonial times. It is too much the habit to regard the&#13;
pioneers of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries as a rather uncouth lot, interested only in opening the wilderness, finding their chief relaxations in religion and an iron discipline. That these intrepid pioneers had&#13;
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ROBERT W. DE FOREST&#13;
President of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New&#13;
York, who, with his wife, has recently presented the&#13;
Museum with $250,000 for the construction of an American Wing&#13;
a love of beauty and that their mental horizon was not limited by blue laws, is a point not so easily grasped. Yet any one who has roamed through Salem, or along the James River in Virginia, knows that this is the case; for these beautiful old houses necessarily reflect the artistic sense of the people who planned and built them. And architecture was not the only art in which they excelled. They made fine furniture, pewter and silver, ceramics. textiles, leatherwork, metal work. Of this phase of their develop- ment most Americans, even those interested in art and design, are extremely ignorant; the literature concern- ing it is scant and scattered; few collec- tors have made a point of assembling it. Our rich men have spent fortunes bringing to- gether artistic treas- ures from Europe, ig- noring the less spec- tacular but by no means completely negligible mementos of their own past. It is therefore welcome news that a great mu- seum, already im- mensely rich in the ac- cumulations of the ages, should erect one building which will house nothing except the finest artistic output of America’s childhood.&#13;
These pioneers were not eminent in the arts of painting and sculpture, but they were not vulgarians and they insisted on surrounding their domestic lives with objects that were refined in line, proportion, and decoration. The very building now being erected embodies this lesson. For many years the Metropoli- tan has been collecting rooms, facades, door- ways and panellings, many of which will be used in constructing its new American wing. One of the old buildings most admired in New York City, for example, was the United States Assay Office, which stood for many years at No. 15 Wall Street. This was originally a branch of the old United States&#13;
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26 The World’s Work&#13;
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THE METROPOLITAN&#13;
MUSEUM OF ART&#13;
Which has received a gift of $250,000 from Mr. and Mrs. Robert W. de Forest for the construction of a wing to house a collection of American Colonial art objects&#13;
Bank, of stormy history; it was removed some years ago to make way for a modern building. Mr. de Forest, however, succeeded in pre- serving the front, and this will now be re- constructed in the south fagade of his new Metropolitan wing. Rooms from many fam- ous colonial houses will similarly be incor- porated. Thus the American Building itself will be an example of that early American art which it seeks to perpetuate. For years the Metropolitan has been amassing treasures for which it now for the first time will have an adequate habitation.&#13;
Educating the Public in Fraudulent Stocks&#13;
N EDUCATIONAL campaign “to pro- vide a measure of protection’”’ for investors against fraudulent and worth-&#13;
less securities has been launched by the In- vestment Bankers’ Association of America. This magazine, which has carried on such a campaign for nearly twenty years and has long recognized the growing need for such education, might say that the investment bankers are slow in getting started in this field of service; this magazine, however, knows the wall of ignorance regarding investment conditions throughout the country that sur- rounded many of these houses and it appre- ciates the reasonable objections that had to be overcome among the members of this as-&#13;
sociation before such a campaign could be launched. It, therefore, has nothing but congratulations to offer to this great organiza- tion of our leading investment houses on the consummation of these plans of its publicity committee and other leaders.&#13;
Mr. Samuel O. Rice, formerly an editor of one of Senator Capper’s farm publications, has been engaged at an adequate salary as edu- cation director to conduct this campaign. He is a man well qualified for the work, and in his first announcement he displayed a becom- ing modesty regarding what is to be accom- plished and a thorough appreciation of the evil that he is to fight. When he said that undoubtedly the loss from fraudulent securities is one of the greatest economic wastes in America to-day, he expressed a truth that is well known to all those who have studied this matter. And when he said, “If the great army of uninformed investors can be taught to realize that the reputable investment house is highly specialized and has especially trained experts, whose judgment on investments is reliable and readily available, and if the un- informed investor will learn to seek out such houses, then this great economic problem is solved,’’ he suggested the remedy that has been in the minds of all those interested in bringing about the solution of this problem.&#13;
It is not only widows and those of little learning, but it is also business and profession- al men and farmers, men who are capable&#13;
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The March of Events&#13;
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BEHIND THE SCENES IN A BROKER’S OFFICE Many bucket shops have all the appearances of reputable offices, and their equipment is often as complete as is that of&#13;
their honest neighbors.&#13;
The numerous telephones and telegraph instruments shown in this picture are no more&#13;
numerous than those that appear behind the plate glass partitions of many new bucket shops that are now once more putting in their appearance&#13;
of accumulating fortunes, who need education in the matter of investing theirsavings. They are the people among whom such education will bear early fruit. This campaign of the Investment Bankers’ Association which is planned to reach every class of citizen in the country, will bring immediate and continuing profits to the members of that Association. It will show that the investment resources of this country have as yet been unsounded. Already, since the war, with its great lessons in investment, small investors areabsorbing more securities than our comparatively few large investors did before the war. It is this larger field from which the investment houses will in the future draw the capital for the continu- ed development of the country. It is highly fitting and encouraging that they are starting an educational campaign in investment throughout this entire field.&#13;
Serving Depositors Beyond the Bank’s Doors&#13;
WOMAN in Newark, N. J., described as “a wealthy apartment house owner, ”’ in February fell into the clutches of one of the stock-selling, “reloading” houses similar to the Durrel Gregory organization&#13;
whose operations were exposed in the Febru- ary Wor_Lp’s Work. This house, T. Harri- son &amp; Co., of 30 Broad Street, New York, was selling stock in The Trans-Atlantic Coal Company. Its members used assumed names over the telephone as did the salesmen of the Durrel Gregory organization and they prom- ised anything even to the delivery of 200 tons of coal to this woman during the coal shortage of last winter. She had “invested” $1,060 and was about to put up $1,000 more when her suspicions were aroused. With her attorney she went to the inspector in charge of the detective bureau of the New York police department and demanded im- mediate action. A squad of five men was detailed to go with her to the offices of T. Harrison &amp; Co., where three men were ar- rested and held on her charge of grand larceny. “Mr. Larkin,’’» who was conducting the “reloading”’ in her case, was found to be Walter Gutterson, who, as “Sanford Tack,” had operated The Sanford Tack Company, a securities firm of 42 Broadway that had failed a short time previously. R. Harold Vexler, a brother-in-law of Gutterson, claimed to be the sole owner of T. Harrison &amp; Co. There was no T. Harrison.&#13;
This case is not related to show how easily&#13;
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The World’s Work&#13;
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© Publishers Photo. Service THE PRESIDENTS PALACE IN SANTIAGO, CHILE&#13;
One of the many striking buildings in the beautiful city that is this year’s meeting place for the Pan-American Conference [See page 3]&#13;
such houses spring up or how quickly this resourceful wo- man brought about the downfall of this one. It is told to bring out the thing that first aroused her suspicions. She was withdrawing her money from a New- ark bank and it was when she went to draw out the second thousand that the cashier of that bank asked her about her contemplated invest- ment. When she told him about this coal company, he ad- vised her to begin an immediate investiga- tion before entrust- ing more of her money to the New York firm. It was by this interest in her affairs that he&#13;
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© Harris &amp; Ewing&#13;
HENRY P. FLETCHER Head of the American delegation to the Pan American Conference, at Santiago, Chile&#13;
performed a service for her that many other bankers might perform for their cli- ents if they would take the same per- sonal interest in their accounts and in their depositors’ financial affairs beyond the doors of the bank. The first step, of course, is to gain the confidence of the de- positor so that such help will be accepted in the right spirit, and the bank officer who attempts to render suchservice must not be discouraged by many failures. The second time such an effort is made to help him the depositor will be more ready to listen to the banker’s ad- vice.&#13;
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WATCH OUT FOR THE BUCKET SHOPS&#13;
Every month in this part of the magazine the Wor.pv’s Work prints an article on investments and the lessons to be learned therefrom&#13;
MONG the letters of inquiry that have come to the Readers’ Service Bureau of THE Wor.ip’s Work recently there have been more asking about a certain brokerage house in New York which specializes in the sale of securities on the partial-payment plan than about any other single house. The man at the head of this house once frankly acknowledged to a representative of this magazine that when they received orders for stocks that they did not have to deliver im- mediately (the purchases being on the partial- payment plan or on a margin) they did not always buy the stock at once unless it was a stock in which they were not familiar with the market. In other words, they would report to the client that the stocks had been pur- chased at the current market price, while they might not actually buy it until some time later and at a price lower than the client was paying for it, thus increasing the profits of the house. In financial terminology, they would “bucket” the order if they thought it to their financial advantage to do so. Whether this house is handling any of its business that way now or not it is impossible to say, but when an increasing number of inquiries begin to come in about houses of its general character or worse, and when one realizes that prices in the stock market are now higher than they have been for more than two years past, it seems time to raise the canger signals against the bucket shops. Investors must not think that all the houses of this character went out of business during the epidemic of brokerage-house failures last year. Those failures were caused mostly by the fact that the steady stock-market advance, which began in the summer of 1921, left no opportunities for houses that were “ bucket- ing” orders to “cover” their accounts, or, in other words, to buy the stocks due their clients at prices lower than the clients were paying them. This made it necessary or to the advantage of many of them to go into bankruptcy and thus avoid meeting their&#13;
commitments even if they could. The ablest bucket-shop managers, however, foresaw this advance and were not caught by it. They have continued in business. And recently there has been an influx of new houses of strange names in the financial district which, coming at the present high level of stock- market prices, makes one wonder if the rest of the bucket-shop operators, or some of those trained in their offices, are not resuming operations under new names.&#13;
Buildings in the Wall Street district which were left with large vacancies by the failures of last year could now lease all that space at high rentals if they were willing to take such temporary tenants again. There is evidence in the correspondence that comes to the Readers’ Service Bureau from all parts of the country that some of these buildings are apparently doing so.&#13;
The fly-by-night houses do not advertise or circularize much around New York. They do not want to attract the attention of the New York Stock Exchange authorities, nor do they want to have their clients so handy to their offices. But they do want a Wall Street address to impress the man at a dis- tance.&#13;
Recently an inquiry came from California inclosing an advertisement from a Pacific Coast paper of a broker located on Broad Street not far from the New York Stock Exchange. About the same time an inquiry came from Ohio regarding another brokerage house at the same address. An effort to get some information about these two un- known concerns disclosed the interesting fact that the mail for both of them was delivered to the same office in this building. This led to a further investigation which brought forth the information from one of the Wall Street investigating agencies that the man operating these two concerns, who was using his own name on the Pacific Coast and a different name with his Ohio prospects, had come to New York from Ohio where he had been arrested and fined twice for operating a bucket shop.&#13;
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30 The World’s Work&#13;
It should be said that THE Wor.Lp’s Work does not conduct a financial investigating bureau as some of its readers seem to think. It tries to educate and influence its readers to do their buying and selling of securities through houses of established reputation and high standing in the financial field, such houses as are members of the leading organizations in that field, the standing of which is based on the care they use in selecting their members and, in the case of brokerage houses, on the control they exercise over the operations of them as well. Through such houses the public can conduct all legitimate investment and spec- ulative operations and there is no reason why it should go outside of such houses of estab- lished reputation for the buying and selling of securities but there is every reason for the safety of its savings why it should not. It is with such houses and their methods of opera- tion that THE WorLD’s Work is well acquaint- ed and it has neither the facilities nor inclina- tion for the investigation of houses that are tempting the public into operations that it does not recommend or into the buying of promotion stocks that have no investment qualifications.&#13;
It would be impossible for any publication that did anything else to keep track of the new houses that are springing up in the Wall Street district or in the new uptown financial district cf New York, without considering any of those in the rest of the country. But the present position of the stock market alone, if nothing else, should be a warning to those who are now receiving letters from unknown brokers urging them to buy stocks on the partial-payment plan or on a margin. Among the letters of this character that have recently come to the attention of the Readers’ Service Bureau there was one that was‘typical of a method frequently used by the bucket-shop operator to get new clients. The broker who sent it out had evidently secured a list of the stockholders of one of the smaller tire companies. It was a mimeographed letter, and after giving the broker’s reasons for expecting “an upward move of considerable proportion” in the stock of that company, it went on to suggest that the stockholder use his present stock certificates as collateral to increase his holdings on a marginal basis. “This can be done’’, the broker said, “by endorsing your certificates on the back and sending them to me by registered mail. I will&#13;
advance two-thirds of the market value of the stock and carry a commitment in the market on an $8-per-share basis. In this manner your holdings will be materially increased without the immediate employment of an additional dollar in cash; and in the event of an ad- vance in the price of the stock in the market your gain will be correspondingly larger.” The fact that the stock had advanced several points subsequent to the date at the head of this letter would make it doubly effective.&#13;
This method recalls to mind the case of one of the creditors of J. D. Sugarman &amp; Company, one of the first of the brokerage houses to fail in the epidemic of last year. This man was an able business executive in the Middle West who had been receiving Sugarman’s weekly market publication for some time and had become impressed by the quality of its analyses of business conditions and of specific security issues. He was not tempted, however, to do any business with the firm as its affiliations did not recommend it tohim. But Sugarman, learning through the purchase of a stockholders’ list, or in some other way, that this man owned a large block of stock in a company that was not then pay- ing dividends, found a vulnerable point of attack. He wrote and suggested that the man put up this stock as collateral to buy some dividend-paying issues and thus make this unproductive investment yield him some return. The idea appealed to the man, and because Sugarman had suggested it, or possibly because Sugarman agreed to lend him more on the stock than a New York Stock Exchange house would, he sent the stock to Sugarman for this purpose. When Sugarman failed, the man found that his stock had been sold the day after he sent it in and he never got it back nor any of the other stocks which he supposed had been bought for him. He is a creditor of the failed firm to the extent of several thousand dollars with little prospect of getting any of it.&#13;
With the stock market at high levels there is less danger of losing money through the failure of bucket shops, but there is the danger of losing it just as surely, if less suddenly, for the object of such houses is to get their clients into stocks that go down and to get them so extended in the market that their accounts are ultimately wiped out with the loss of all the money they have put up.&#13;
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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan&#13;
The First Article of a Series on How the Klan was Organized and What It&#13;
Hopes to Do.&#13;
The Men and the Woman Who Made It a National Organization&#13;
By ROBERT L. DUFFUS&#13;
Although the Ku Klux Klan bas been repeatedly ‘‘exposed”’&#13;
still, for most persons, a mystery.&#13;
In a series of articles of which this is the first,&#13;
, its causes, motives, and significance are&#13;
Mr. Duffus&#13;
will try to make plain to readers of the Wor Lb’s Work how the organization was started, and&#13;
why; how it has operated; what effects it has bad upon our political and social life;&#13;
what&#13;
legitimate reasons for existence, if any, it possesses, and what its probable future will be. The&#13;
present article deals with the picturesque personalities who founded and directed the Klan.&#13;
Next&#13;
month Mr. Duffus will tell of the spread of the organization in the South—Tue Epirtors.&#13;
OME eight or nine years ago a thin- lipped, long-nosed, spectacled gen- tleman, with something about his tall frame that suggested he might answer to the title of Colonel, used&#13;
occasionally to drop into newspaper offices in Atlanta, Georgia. Like many other gentle- men who drop into newspaper offices he had a plan which he was not unwilling to explain. Journalists who turned from what they may have considered more important matters to listen to what he had to say gathered that if he was a crank he was a well-meaning one.&#13;
This was Colonel William Joseph Simmons, his prefix being derived in part from service as private in Company B of the First Regiment of Alabama Volunteers during the Spanish War, and in part from a career as an officer of the Twenty-ninth Regiment, uniform rank, Woodmen of the World. However, the title by which he was destined to become nation- ally known was that of Imperial Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan.&#13;
Of his career until 1915 comparatively little has been revealed, and some of what has been revealed is self-contradictory. He ap- pears to have been born at Harpersville, Shelby County, Alabama, in or about the year 1880. At one time, perhaps in his early youth, he made a venture as a clergyman. Accord- ing to one legend he continued in this occupa- tion for about ten years. According to an- other he merely preached a probationary term and was then refused ordination. However this may be—and it is only fair to say that the&#13;
worst enemies of Colonel Simmons’s organiza- tion have not been able to attach any dam- ning personal scandal to his record—he retains much of the spell-binding ability generally associated with the revivalist preacher. An Atlanta man, by no means friendly to the Simmons enterprise, said to me of a speech he heard the Colonel deliver: “He could have led that crowd anywhere, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t have gone with the rest.”&#13;
After giving up such ministerial work as he attempted, Colonel Simmons became a travel- ling salesman. The favorite story of a cer- tain business man of Birmingham is that he employed Simmons as a salesman of men’s garters and subsequently discharged him for inefficiency. But the major portion of his career was as a Salesman or representative for various fraternal orders. According to his own testimony he was earning ten thousand dollars a year when he gave up his private business in order to promote the Ku Klux Klan. A less glowing account of his success is given by those who knew him at the time. But however large or small the profits, he took fraternalism seriously.&#13;
“1 am a member of a number of fraternal orders,” he told the House rules committee in October, 1921, when the Ku Klux Klan was under investigation, “the Masons, Royal Arch Masons, the great order of Knights Templars. . . . In fact I have been a frater- nalist ever since | was in the academy school way back yonder, and | believe in fraternal orders and fraternal relationships among men,&#13;
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32 Robert L. Duffus&#13;
in a fraternity of nations, so that all people might know something of the great doctrine of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man.”&#13;
Colonel Simmons was emotional and some- thing of a mystic. When he came across a history of the Ku Klux Klan of reconstruction days, his mind and imagination began to work feverishly. This was at a time when the “white man’s burden” had very solemn im- plications, even in America. Men with harder heads than Simmons’s were talk- ing about Anglo-Saxon supremacy. Immi- gration was pouring into the country in a torrential stream, new ideas about religion and government were fermentingand boiling over, and the old racial stock and its folk ways seemed to be threat- ened.&#13;
Colonel Simmons mulled these things around in his head, and the modern ver- sion of the Ku Klux Klan, which he main- tains, when he thinks of it, to be a continu- ation of the old klan, was the result.&#13;
“Twenty years ago,” he declared in the testimony | have just quoted, “I re- ceived the inspiration to establish a fraternal, patriotic secret order for the purpose of memorializing the great heroes of our national history, inculcating and teaching practical fraternity among men, to teach and encourage a fervent practical patriotism toward our country, and to destroy from the hearts of men the Mason and Dixon line, and build thereupon a great American solidarity and distinctive national conscience which our country sorely stands in need of.&#13;
“At that time | was a mere young man, and knew that my youth and immature thought would not permit me to successfully&#13;
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WILLIAM JOSEPH SIMMONS&#13;
The originator of the present Ku Klux Klan. Until&#13;
“Colonel”? Simmons enlisted the aid of Edgar Young&#13;
Clarke the organization lacked strength, but the “‘sell-&#13;
ing methods”’ of Mr. Clarke soon increased the society enormously&#13;
launch the movement. So | kept my counsel through fifteen subsequent years, working, thinking, and preparing my head and heart for the task of creating this institution for the interest of our common country, and for the promotion of real brotherhood among men.&#13;
“It was in the month of October, 1915, that | decided to launch the movement. | mentioned to many of my friends what | had in mind and heart, and as a result a meeting was held which was attended by thirty- four splendid citizens of the state of Georgia. As a result of this meeting, after | had briefly outlined to these men the purpose of this meeting, appli- cation for charter to the state of Georgia was made, which ap- plication was signed by every man pres- ent.”&#13;
On the Thanksgiv- ing day following this meeting Colonel Sim- mons and fifteen fol- lowers met at twilight on Stone Mountain, outside Atlanta, and there, in the words of Edward Young Clarke (of whom more later) “erected a fiery cross and spread an Ameri- can flag over a crude altar builded with their own hands, and solemnly dedicated themselves, as Americans, to those principles of Americanism embodied in the Constitution of the United States, consecrated themselves, as Protestants, to the tenets of the Christian religion, and pledged themselves, as white men, to the eternal maintenance of white supremecy.”&#13;
A week later the order received a charter from the state of Georgia, and on July 1, 1916, on petition of Simmons and eleven others, it was duly incorporated in the superior court of Fulton County. Its object and purpose was described as ‘‘purely benevolent and eleemosy-&#13;
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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan 33&#13;
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A GROUP OF KU KLUX OFFICERS AT THE CONGRESSIONAL INQUIRY From left to right: Edgar Young Clarke, whose sales methods so rapidly increased the Klan membership, Paul S. Etheridge, “Imperial Counsel,’’ Dr. H. W. Evans, the Dallas dentist who has become the head of the Klan, and Fred L. Savage, ‘Imperial Klaliff”’&#13;
nary,’ and it was stipulated that there should be “no capital stock or profit or gain to the members thereof.” It was formally described as a “ patriotic, secret, social, bene- volent order, under the name and style of ‘Knights of the Ku Klux Klan’.”&#13;
After this brief and inconspicuous appear- ence in public, Colonel Simmons and his fol- lowers retired into relative obscurity, and Colonel Simmons himself into a very real poverty. The next four years were lean, despite his use of the “logical, businesslike plan,” which, he said, he had “worked out while in the organization work of the Wood- men of the World, having organizers, district organizers, and state managers, and so on.”&#13;
“For three years,” the Colonel himself has testified, “the work was a tremendous strug- gle, made more arduous by a traitor in our ranks who held under me a position of trust, who embezzled all our accumulated funds in the summer of 1916 and went off to organize a counterfeit order. The treacherous con- duct of this man left me penniless, with a large accumulation of debts against the order. | was forced to mortgage my home in order to get money with which to carry on the fight against this traitor’s counterfeit order, and also to assist in the work we had to do. During all this time oi dread and darkness | virtually stood alone, but remaining true to the dictates of unsullied honor, | steered the infant organization&#13;
through dangerous channels, and _ finally succeeded in making good in the payment of all debts, and starting the institution&#13;
upon a nationwide expansion.”&#13;
It is worth remarking, in view of what came later, that Colonel Simmons, according to his own version of the incident, indignantly re- jected the temptation offered by one Jona- than B. Frost, one of the original incorpora- tors, who told him “of great money-making possibilities’’ and stated “that he could guar- antee a cold $1,000,000 to myself and to him- self if these plans were carried out.”’&#13;
In the spring of 1920, more than four years after the ceremony on Stone Mountain, the Ku Klux numbered “about four or five thou- sand members altogether.’’ This slow growth is not unconnected with the fact that Simmons kept his accounts carelessly, wasted money in various ways, and from a business man’s point of view was hopelessly incompetent. It is also probable that he did not yearn after money as much as did those tnto whose hands his crusade later fell. Mr. Clarke has testi- fied that at times he “actually went hungry in order that the bills of the Klan might be met and the work kept alive.” It is also recorded that he “lived in an unpretentious part of the city’ and that the “Imperial Palace’’ was on “the top floor of a second- rate office building.”&#13;
Had the propagation of the Klan remained in Colonel Simmons’s hands, it is fairly certain&#13;
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34 Robert L. Duffus&#13;
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© Underwood &amp; Underwood&#13;
EDGAR YOUNG CLARKE&#13;
rhe principal ‘‘salesman of hate’’ whose membership campaign re- sulted not only in enlarging the Klan but also in enriching himself&#13;
that the organization would never have at- tained large dimensions or become a national problem. But in 1920 an important event occurred: Edward Young Clarke joined, saw the possibilities which inhered in the enter- prise, and immediately placed behind it him- self, his business associate, Mrs. Elizabeth Tyler, and their promotion company, the Southern Publicity Association. Where Jona- than B. Frost had failed they succeeded.&#13;
Whatever their beliefs about the Protestant religion, white supremecy, or one hundred per cent. Americanism, Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler both took up the Klan frankly to make money. lf in order to make money it became neces- sary to stir up racial and religious passions, they were willing and able to do it, but their hearts were elsewhere.&#13;
“ Mr. Clarke explained to me,” says Postal In- spector O. B. Williamson, “that he was at the head of what is called the propagation department, and that this department was operated by Mrs. Tyler and himself, and that it was organized for profit.” As far as these enterprising partners were concerned the “purely benevolent and eleemosynary” aspects of the Ku Klux Klan were not carried to a fanatical extreme.&#13;
Clarke had been a re- porter on the Atlanta Constitution, a position in which he was not a con- spicuous success, and had afterward indulged in a variety of money-making schemes which appear to have brought in little eitherfor him or for those who trusted him. Like Simmons he was a dreamer, but his dreams were of more tangible stuff. Nevertheless he acquired a degree of flashy prominence as a press agent and “boost- er.” He had also been, like Simmons, a solicitor and sales manager for the Woodmen of the World, although the two did not meet until early in 1920. During the war he had been employed in the war-fund campaigns, and had learned how easily people can be induced to part with their money in what is represented as a good cause.&#13;
Clarke’s brother, Francis Clarke, managing editor of the Atlanta Constitution, was, and is, a steady-going man of whom everyone speaks well. He is generally believed not to be a member of the Klan, and the worst said about him is that he has been inclined to give his brother a little the best of it when there was a choice in handling the news. The fight against the Klan in Atlanta was made, not by the Constitution, but by Mr. Hearst’s Georg-&#13;
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Salesmen of Hate: The Ku Klux Klan 35&#13;
ian, under the capable and independent management of James B. Nevin.&#13;
Clarke’s partnership with Mrs. Tyler came about, according to an interview given by the latter to the New York World, in the following manner:&#13;
“Some years ago Mr. Clarke was a special- ist in booming communities that were not pro- gressing as rapidly as they wished to. He was known through-&#13;
In the light of after events it cannot be said that Mr. Clarke and Mrs. Tyler failed to deliver the goods.&#13;
Clarke closed with Simmons, on June 7, 1920, a contract which was the basis of the Klan’s great period of expansion. ‘From that time forward, until Clarke’s final withdrawal in February of this year, the Southern Publi- city Association was the tail that wagged the Ku Klux dog.&#13;
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out the South as ‘the doctor of sick towns.’ He was in charge of a great harvest festival in Atlanta that brought more people to Atlanta than had ever been there before.&#13;
“| was interested in hygiene work for babies—sort of a ‘bet- ter babies’ movement. | had taken enough of a medical course to fit myself for the work of visiting among the tenements and advis- ing mothers about their babies, and inthe harvest festival we had a ‘Better Babies’ pa- rade, of which | had charge. Itwasthrough this that | met Mr. Clarke.&#13;
“After we had talked over many business enterprises, we formed the Southern Publicity Association. I was associated with the Y. W. C. A. during the war and Mr. Clarke was affiliated with the Y. M. C. A. | financed the Southern Publicity Association and stayed in the office, and Mr. Clarke was field repre- sentative, planning and working out publicity campaigns of one sort and another.&#13;
“We came into contact with Colonel Simmons and the Ku Klux Klan through the fact that my son-in-law joined it. We found Colonel Simmons was having a hard time to get along. He couldn’t pay his rent. His receipts were not sufficient to take care of his personal needs. After we had in- vestigated it from every angle, we decided to go into it with Colonel Simmons and give it&#13;
the impetus that it could get best from pub- licity.””&#13;
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MRS. ELIZABETH TYLER&#13;
An associate of Edgar Y. Clarke who was very active in the campaign to “‘sell’”’ the Klan idea, and was partially responsible for the increased memberships&#13;
The Clarke-Sim- mons contract ap- pointed Clarke imper- ial kleagle, or “ general superintendent of the organization depart- ment;’ gave him power to hire his own office assistants and organizers, subject nominally to the ap- proval of Colonel Sim- mons; and _ specified that he should receive °8 out of every $10 membership fee, and in addition $2 for each rew member added Within the first six months to klans organ- ized by Clarke or his agents. Clarke was to advance to Simmons the personal and office expenses recessary for keeping up his position of titular head of the Klan, and was to deduct these expenses from the payments due Simmons under the contract.&#13;
The actual number of members taken in during the first fifteen months of this contract was about 85,000; the actual amount of money taken in, $860,000; the actual amount paid in commissions to Colonel Simmons $170,000; the actual amount retained for expenses, salaries, and profits by the Southern Publicity Association, $590,000. Of the $10 “donation” required from each neophyte $4 went to the kleagle, or solicitor, $1 to the state organizer, 50 cents to the grand goblin, or head of a “domain” covering several states, and $2.50 to Clarke and Mrs. Tyler. The partners, therefore, received, during the fifteen months, more than $212,000. Of this amount Clarke entered as “executive salaries” and “surplus” only $27,500. His actual net profit during&#13;
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this period as well as during the remainder of his incumbency is conjectural. It is certain that he himself had practically nothing when the contract with Simmons was made, and that Mrs. Tyler put in about $14,000. It is also certain that both he and Mrs. Tyler soon gave every outward and visible sign of un- precedented prosperity; and Colonel Sim- mons, besides receiving $25,000 in back pay, was presented with a comfortable home on Peachtree road, nearer the centre of town than the magnificent “Imperial Palace” which Clarke had bought to serve as Klan headquarters.&#13;
Much has been, and much might still be written of the fiscal policies of the Klan under the auspices of the Southern Publicity Associa- tion. But such details as the sale of cotton robes to new members at the rate of $6.50 each, when the contract price to the Klan was $4 and the actual cost of making less than $2; the failure of the association to pay either income or excess profits taxes, on the plea that it was a benevolent enterprise; and other financial peculiarities are of general interest only as they serve to indicate the lucrative nature of the Association’s labors; and also of the labors of its successors who are now in control of the Imperial Palace. The&#13;
business paid and was expanded because it&#13;
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Robert L. Duffus&#13;
paid. If there was idealism, it was not in the offices of Clarke and Tyler. was there a sinister conspiracy against law and order. It happened that Clarke and Tyler dealt in hate instead of sugar or automobiles, but they marketed hate as placidly as they might have marketed any other commodity.&#13;
Curiously enough it was as publicity agents that the partners finally overreached them- selves. Their first conspicuous success in this line was a series of articles published in the New York Herald in January, 1921, and advertised as being “based largely on infor- mation supplied by Colonel Simmons.” But the activities of Clarke’s field agents, which will be described in the next article in this series, soon led to less favorable publicity. So much adverse comment appeared that in the summer of 1921 Clarke attempted the experiment of half-page advertisements in the newspapers of New York, Chicago, and other cities, charging “an apparent nation- wide attempt through public statements in the press, and conduct of lawless citizens and traitors within our own ranks . . . to discredit the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan in the eyes of the public.”&#13;
In September the New York World began the publication of a detailed “exposure,” and simultaneously the New York American pub-&#13;
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A KLAN Until up to date anemic and frail.&#13;
INITIATION “selling methods”’ were put to work by Edgar Y. Clarke and Mrs. Elizabeth Tvler the Klan was&#13;
But the great increase of members, with their fees, built the society into an awkward giant while building up for Clarke and Mrs. Tyler extraordinary profits&#13;
Nor, probably, °&#13;
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Salesmen of Hate: Ku Klux Klan 37&#13;
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A KU KLUX KLAN MEETING Robed and Masked and led by officers of the organization whose titles show a marked affinity for the eleventh letter of the alphabet, the members of the Klan profess the deepest reverence for American principles, but are apparently oblivious to the strangeness of the picture that they make as they hide their faces while they loudly declare their faith in law and order&#13;
lished the racy confessions of ©. Anderson Wright, former head of the Klan’s subsidiary, the “ Knights of the Air.’’ This led in Octo- ber to a hearing before the House Rules Com- mittee, at which Colonel Simmons was a star witness, and which had no official result, unless it was to defeat Chairman Philip Camp- bell of Kansas in the 1922 elections. When this hearing was held, neither the Department of Justice nor the Post Office Department, despite their itvestigations into the Klan’s affairs, had found evidence on which criminal proceedings could be based.&#13;
In December four “goblins,” or regional sales directors, who had revolted against Clarke’s authority, made serious charges against the personal characters of Clarke and Mrs. Tyler, filed a number of suits against the couple, and petitioned to have the Klan de- clared bankrupt. These occurrences were given wide publicity, and by the end of 1921 it was a careless newspaper reader-who had not heard of the Ku Klux Klan.&#13;
The investigators of the New York World had blundered in overestimating the numbers of Klansmen by about one thousand per cent., and probably also in ascribing to them acts of which they were not guilty. There had been a temptation to class as “ Ku Klux out- rages” certain offences which have been common in the South for many decades. When the present writer made a trip through&#13;
the South early in 1923 it was still a question in many persons’ minds whether the World’s exposures had not done the Klan more good than harm.&#13;
But at one vulnerable point the World, backed up by the testimony of C. Anderson Wright, of Z. R. Upchurch, formerly an asso- ciate of Clarke and Mrs. Tyler, and by com- mon gossip, hit so hard as finally to dislodge the Southern Publicity Association from its control of the Klan’s finances.&#13;
The most serious of these charges was that Clarke and Mrs. Tyler had been arrested to- gether in October, 1919, at a house owned by Mrs. Tyler in a well-known but unfashionable district in Atlanta, and that they had been fined for disorderly conduct. The arrest is reported to have taken place on information furnished by Clarke’s wife, who had sued him for divorce thirteen days previously on the ground of desertion. The records of this incident are said to have been removed by some unknown person from police headquar- ters in Atlanta, and the whole story was sub- sequently denied by Clarke. The two made no secret, however, of the fact that Clarke was a frequent visitor at Mrs. Tyler’s attractive estate on the Howell Mill road, outside Atlanta.&#13;
Clarke has also been charged with mishand- ling church funds in 1910; he was indicted in October, 1922, by a Federal grand jury at&#13;
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Atlanta for misuse of the mails; in March, 1923, he was indicted by a Federal grand jury at Houston for violation of the White Slave act; and a futile attempt was made to indict him: at Indianapolis for carrying whisky in his suitcase. At this writing none of these charges has been sustained in court, and the fact that Clarke’s record has been raked over thoroughly by persons anxious to discredit him may show that he generally kept on the safe side of legality, if not always of propriety.&#13;
Rut the effect of these reflections on Clarke’s character joined to his growing arbi- trariness, his refusal to begin libel suits, and the prevalent belief that Mrs. Tyler was the actual head of the Klan, created powerful op- position within the order. Eighteen thousand&#13;
Klansmen were said to have resigned in Chi- .&#13;
cago following the publication of the World’s charges, and Grand Goblin Atkin, of the Chicago “domain,” declared in an interview that “the purpose of the Ku Klux Klan is the antithesis of the practices alleged or proved against Clarke and Mrs. Tyler.’’ Insurgent Klansmen believed that Simmons, for whom they professed sympathy, was under Clarke’s domination, or, worse yet, Mrs. Tyler’s. Louis David Wade, “imperial kligrapp”’ or secretary, who was discharged by Clarke in July, 1922, filed a suit in which he alleged that the latter “has gained complete control over the Chief Executive Cfficer (William Joseph Simmons), and has either kept him drunk or has taken advantage of his drunken condition, and procured for himself the office of Imperial Wizard pro tem., which allows him to exer- cise supreme control over the entire organi- zation.”&#13;
Clarke had, in fact, assumed the duties of Imperial Wizard, or supreme executive, in June, 1922, retiring Simmons ostensibly on a “vacation,” but in reality removing him from power. But Clarke’s days of authority were numbered. On October 4, 1922, he an- nounced his resignation; on November 28 the Imperial Klonvocation, or general convention of the order, appointed a new Imperial Wiz- ard, Hiram Wesley Evans, a dentist from Dal- las, Texas; and on March 5 of this year Evans formally announced that Clarke had been re- moved “‘forthe good of the order,”’ that his con- tract had been cancelled, and that he would no longer receive “one cent of revenue from the Klan.”” Colonel Simmons, with the meaning- less title of ““ Emperor,” is an invalid (whether&#13;
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Robert L. Duffus&#13;
for the reasons given by Mr. Wade or others) in the house on Peachtree Road presented him by the Klan in the days of Clarke’s glory. Early in April he showed his resentment by attempting to place himself once more in actual control, but any authority that he regains as a result of legal action is likely to be fleeting. Mrs. Tyler, in the meantime, had been led to the altar by Ste- phen W. Grow, an Atlanta motion picture man, and so, apparently, disappears from the centre of the stage.&#13;
The new wizard of the Klan is a man of quite a different stamp from either Simmons or Clarke. When the first Ku Klux organizers came to Dallas, Evans was filling and pulling teeth, not without a measure of success. He was also prominent in some of the fraternal orders, including the Masons. According to Klansmen, the Klan agents approached a number of Masons, who were and are both powerful and numerous in Texas, and Evans offered to lend his influence to the new move- ment if its principles were found not incon- sistent with Masonry. The inquiry satisfied Evans and led to wholesale applications for membership in the Klan. In my next article | shall have something to say of Klan develop- ments in Dallas and Fort Worth, which went so far that Dallas rather than Atlanta is now regarded by many Klansmen as the centre of the movement.&#13;
There is no doubt that Evans went to Atlanta, first as secretary in- place of the deposed Mr. Wade, then as Imperial Wizard, to act as a representative of the Texas Klans, “clean house” and put the Klan in a better light before the public. Like Simmons he possesses some of the qualities of the evange- list and spell-binder, but he combines with these a far greater practicality.&#13;
Under Evans the financial affairs of the Klan will probably be put in presentable order, and the Imperial Palace may attempt to re- strain the lawless acts of which many of the local klans have been guilty. But violence and corruption, as | hope to show, are not the fundamental evil of the Ku Klux Klan. It can be, and perhaps will be, a very danger- ous organization after both these elements are eliminated.&#13;
In a succeeding article | shall retrace my steps a little in order to outline the methods by which the Klan spread itself in the South under the leadership of Simmons and Clarke.&#13;
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NEWSPAPER&#13;
ADVENTURES&#13;
IN FLEET STREET&#13;
How I Joined Lord Northcliffe’s Staff, and How | Left.&#13;
Case and Ethel le Neve.&#13;
The Crippen&#13;
A Third Article on English Newspaper Life&#13;
By PHILIP GIBBS&#13;
LEET STREET called to me with an alluring voice. | sickened for London. One night | wrote a let- ter to Alfred Harmsworth, founder of The Daily Mail, and _ after- wards Lord Northcliffe. Almost by return of post he asked me to call on him, and | took the chance. | remember as though it were yesterday my first interview with that genius of the new journalism. He kept me waiting for a while in an ante-chamber of Carmelite House. Young men, extremely well dressed, and ob- viously in a great hurry on business of enor- mous importance, to themselves, kept coming and going. Messenger boys in neat little liveries bounced in and out of “the Chief’s”’ room, in answer to his bell. Presently one of them approached me and said, “Your turn.” | drew a deep breath, prayed for courage, and found myself face to face with a handsome, clean-shaven, well-dressed man, with a lock of brown hair falling over his broad forehead, and a friendly, quizzical look in his brown eyes. Sitting back in a deep chair, smoking a cigar, he read some of the articles | had brought, and occasionally said “Not bad!” r “Rather amusing!’”’ Once he looked up and said, “ You look rather pale, young man. Better go to the South of France for a bit.”’ But it was the air of Fleet Street | wanted. Presently he gave me the chance of it. “How would you like to edit Page Four, and write two articles a week?” | went out of Carmelite House with that offer accepted, uplifted to the seventh heaven of hope, and yet a little scared by the danger- ous and dazzling height which | had reached. A month later, having uprooted my home in the North, brought a wife and babe to London, incurred heavy expenses with a mortgage on the future, | presented myself&#13;
at The Daily Mail again, and awaited the leisure and pleasure of Alfred Harmsworth.&#13;
When | was shown into his room, he only dimly remembered my face.&#13;
“Let me see,” he said, groping back to the distant past, which was four weeks old.&#13;
When | told him my name, he seemed to have a glimmer of some half forgotten com- pact.&#13;
“Oh, yes! The young man from the North, Wasn’t there some talk&#13;
of making a place for you in The Daily Mail?”&#13;
My heart fell down a precipice. . . I mentioned the offer that had been made and accepted. But Harmsworth looked a little doubtful.&#13;
“Page Four? Well, hardly that, perhaps. I’ve appointed another editor.”’&#13;
| thought of my wife and babe, and unpaid bills. °&#13;
“Do you mind touching the bell?” Harmsworth.&#13;
The usual boy came in, and was ordered to send down a certain gentleman whose name | did not hear. Presently the door opened, and a tall, thin, pale, handsome, and extremely haughty young gentleman sauntered in and said “Good afternoon,’’ icily.&#13;
Harmsworth presented me to Filson Young, whom afterward | came to know as one of the most brilliant writers in Fleet Street, as he still remains. Not then did | guess that we should meet as chroniclers of world war in the ravaged fields of France.&#13;
“Oh, Young,” said Harmsworth, suavest voice, “This is a newcomer, named Philip Gibbs. | half promised him the editor- ship of Page Four.”&#13;
Here he tapped Young on the shoulder, and added in a jocular way:&#13;
“And if you’re not very careful, young man, he may edit Page Four!”’&#13;
Young offered me a cold hand,&#13;
asked&#13;
in his&#13;
and there&#13;
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40&#13;
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was not a benediction in his glance. I was put under his orders as a writer, as heir pre- sumptive to his throne. As it happened, we became good friends, and he had no grudge against me when, some months later, he va- cated the chair in my favor and went to Ireland for The Daily Mail, to collect material for his brilliant essays on “Ireland at the Crossroads.”’&#13;
So there | was, in the Harmsworth régime, which has made many men, and broken others. It was the great school of the New Journalism, which was very new in England in those days, and mainly inspired by the powerful, brilliant, erratic, and whimsical genius of Alfred Harms- worth himself.&#13;
| joined his staff at the end of the Boer War period, when there was a brilliant group of men on The Daily Mail, such as Charles Hands, Edgar Wallace, H. W. Wilson, Holt White, and Filson Young. The editor was “Tom” Marlowe, still by a miracle in that position which he kept through years of tur- bulence and change, by carrying out with unfaltering hesitation every wish and whimsy of The Chief, and by a sense of humor which never betrayed him into regarding any in- ternal convulsion, revolution, or hysteria of The Daily Mail system as more than the latest phase in an ever-changing game. Men might come, and men might go, but Marlowe re-&#13;
e . a&#13;
Philip Gibbs&#13;
mained forever, bluff, smiling, imperturbable, and kind.&#13;
Above him in power of direction, dynamic energy, and financial authority, was Kennedy Jones, whom all men feared and many hated. He had a ruthless brutality of speech and action which Harmsworth, more human, more generous, and less cruel (though he had a strain of cruelty), found immensely helpful in running an organization which could not suc- ceed on sentiment or brotherly love. Kennedy Jones would break a man as soon as look at him, if he made a mistake “letting down”’ the paper, if he earned more money for a job which could be done for less by a younger man, if he showed signs of getting tired. That was his deliberate policy as a “strong man” out to win at any price, but, as in most men of the kind, there lay beneath his ruthlessness a substratum of human quality which occasion- ally revealed itself in friendly action. He had a cynical honesty of outlook on life which gave his conversation at times the hard sparkle of wit and the bitter spice of truth. Beyond any doubt, the enormous success of the Northcliffe press, as it was afterward called, owed a great deal to the business genius of this man.&#13;
Alfred Harmsworth himself provided the ideas, the policy, the spirit of the machine. He was the enthusiast, the explorer, and the&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
THE OLD BAILEY rhis building is on the site of another building of the same name, the passing of which is described&#13;
by Sir Philip Gibbs in this article.&#13;
 &#13;
The Old Bailey is one of England’s most noted“ gaols”’&#13;
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Newspaper Adventures in Fleet Street 41&#13;
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adventurer, with the world’s news as his un- charted seas. He had only one test of what was good to print, “ Does this interest Mer” As he was interested, with the pas- sionate curiosity of a small boy who asks con- tinually “How?” and “Why?’”’, in all the ele- mentary aspects of hu- man life, in its romances and discoveries, its new toys and new fads, its tragedies and comedies of the more obvious kind, its melodramas and amusements and person- alities, that test was not narrow or one-eyed. The legend grew that Harms- worth, afterward North- cliffe, had an uncanny sense of public opinion, and, with his ear to the ground, knew from afar what the people wanted, and gave it them. But, in my judgment, he had none of that subtlety of mind and vision. He had a boyish simplicity, of overlaid by a little cun-&#13;
ning and craft. It was not what the pub- lic wanted that was his guiding rule. It was what he wanted. His luck and genius lay in the combination of qualities which made him typical to a supreme degree of the average man as produced by the triviaiity, the rest- lessness, the craving for sensation, the impa- tience with the length and dullness and diffi- culty of life and learning, the habit of taking short cuts to knowledge and judgment, which characterized that great middle-class public of the world before the war.&#13;
One method by which Harmsworth im- pressed his own views and character on the staff and paper was to hold a daily conference in The Daily Mail office, which all editors, sub- editors, reporters, special correspondents, and glorified office boys were expected to attend. Freedom of speech was granted, and free dis- Cussion invited, without distinction of rank. The man who put a good idea into the pool&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
FLEET STREET—LONDON’S NEWSPAPER CENTRE Fleet Street in London has in it many of the offices&#13;
the best known newspapers and_ periodicals&#13;
was rewarded by Harmsworth’s enthusiastic approbation, while he himself criticized that day’s paper, pointed out its defects, praised some article which had caught his fancy and discussed the leading matter for next day’s&#13;
paper. Cigarettes and cigars lay ready to the hand. Tea was served, daintily. Laughter&#13;
and jokes brightened this daily rendezvous, and Harmsworth, at these times, in those early days, was at his best—easy, boyish, captivating, to some extent inspiring. But it was an inspiration in the triviality of thought, in the lighter side of the Puppet-Show. Never once did | hear Harmsworth utter one serious commentary on life, or any word ap- proaching nobility of thought, or any hint of some deep purpose behind this engine which he was driving with such splendid zest in its power and efficiency. On the other hand, I never heard him say a base word or utter an unclean or vicious thought.&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
42 Philip&#13;
He was very generous at times to those who served him. | know one man who approached him for a loan of £100.&#13;
He was shocked at the idea.&#13;
“Certainly not! Don’t you know that | never lend money? I wouldn’t do it if you were starving in the gutter.”&#13;
Then he wrote a cheque for £100, and said, “But I'll give it you, my dear fellow. Say no more about it.”’&#13;
Now and again, when he saw one of his “ young men ”’ looking pale and run down, he would pack him off for a holiday in the south of France, with all his expenses paid. In later years he gave handsome pensions to many who had served him in the early days.&#13;
He had his Court Favorites, like the medieval Kings, gen- erally one of the new-comers who had aroused his enthusi- asm by some little “scoop,” or a bril- liant bit of work. But he tired of them quickly, and it was a dangerous thing to occupy that position, because it was almost certain to mean a speedy fall.&#13;
For a little while | was one of his favor- ites. He used to chat with me in his room and say amusing, indiscreet things, about other members of the staff, or his numerous brothers.&#13;
| remember him looking up once from his desk where he sat in front of a bust of Napo- leon, to whom he bore a physical resemblance, and upon whose character and methods with men he closely modelled himself.&#13;
“Gibbs,” he said, “whenever you see a man looking like a cod-fish walking about these passages, you'll know my brother Cecil brought him in. Then he comes to me to hock him out again!”&#13;
As temporary favorite, | was invited down to Sutton Court, a magnificent old mansion of Elizabethan days, in Surrey. It was in&#13;
 &#13;
LORD NORTHCLIFFE AS A YOUNG MAN&#13;
When he was Alfred Harmsworth, and had just begun his newspaper career&#13;
Gibbs&#13;
the early days of motoring, and | was taken down in a great car, and back in another, and felt like an Emperor. Harmsworth was a delightful host, and kept open house during the week-ends, where one heard the latest newspaper “shop” under the high timbered roof and between the panelled walls, where the great ladies and gentlemen of England, in silks and brocades, had dined and danced by candlelight.&#13;
It was here, in the minstrels’ gallery, one afternoon, that Harmsworth asked me to tell him all about “ syndicating,”’ according to my ex- perience with the Tillotsons’ syndicate. I told him, and he be- came excited.&#13;
“Excellent! I tell you what to do. Go back to The Daily Mail and say I’ve sacked you. Then go to the south of France with your wife, for three months. I'll pay expenses. After that, return to Fleet Street, where you'll find an office waiting for you, called the British Empire Syn- dicate, Limited. No- body must know that I’m behind it. How’s that fora scheme?’”’&#13;
It seemed to me a pretty good scheme; al- though | was doubtful whether | could work it. | temporized, and suggested drawing out the scheme on paper, more in detail. That disappointed him. He wanted me to say, “Rather! The chance of a life-time!” My hesitation put me into the class he called “Yes, but—’’ I drew up the scheme, but he went for a visit to Germany, and on his return did not give another thought to the British Empire Syndicate, Limited. Other ideas had absorbed his interest.&#13;
At the end of a year | saw I was losing favor. An incident happened which forewarned me of approaching doom. He had returned from another visit to Germany, and was in a bad&#13;
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Newspaper Adventures in Fleet Street 43&#13;
temper, believing, as he always did, that The Daily Mail had gone to the dogs in his absence. He reproved me sharply for the mis- erable stuff | had been publishing in Page Four, and demanded to see what | had got in hand. | took down some “ plums’’—special articles by brilliant and distinguished men. He glanced through them, and laid then down angrily.&#13;
“Dull as ditchwater! Send them all back!’&#13;
| protested that it was impossible to send them back, as they were all commissioned. My own honor and honesty were at stake.&#13;
“Send them all back!”’ he said, with increasing anger.&#13;
I did not send them back, but gave them “snappier’ titles. The next day he sent for me again, and de- manded to see what else | proposed to pub- lish—“ not that trash you showed me yes- terday!”&#13;
| took down the same articles, with some others. He had more leisure, read them while he smoked a cigar, and at in- tervals said, “Good!”&#13;
“Excellent!”&#13;
“Why didn’t you show these to me yesterday!’&#13;
Needless to say, | did not enlighten him. | was saved that time, but a few months later | saw other signs of disfavor.&#13;
| remember that at that time | had to see General Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, that grand old man for whose human- ity and love | had a great respect, in spite of his methods of conversion, with scarlet coats and tambourines. He was angry with some- thing | had written, and was violent in his wrath. But then he forgave me and talked very gently and wisely of the responsibilities of journalism, “the greatest power in the world for good or evil.”&#13;
Presently the old man seized me by the Wrist with his skinny old hand, and thrust me down on to my knees. ;&#13;
 &#13;
LORD NORTHCLIFE SHORTLY BEFORE HIS DEATH&#13;
This picture was taken just before he landed from the steamship on his last visit to the United States&#13;
“Now let us pray for Alfred Harmsworth,” he said, and offered up fervent prayer for his wisdom and light.&#13;
I don’t know what effect that prayer had on Harmsworth, but it seemed to have an immediate effect upon my own fate. I was “sacked” from The Daily Mail.&#13;
T WAS in the new Old Bailey, very hand- somely panelled, nicely warmed, lighted with delicate effects of color through high windows—doubtless the clerks of the court thought it quitea priv- ilege for the criminals to be judged in sucha place—that | saw the trial of that famous and astonishing little murderer, Doctor Crippen.&#13;
It will be remem- bered that he was cap- tured on a ship bound for Halifax, with a girl named Ethel le Neve, dressed up in boy’s clothes, with whom he had eloped after killing his wife and dissecting her body for burial in his cellar.&#13;
Crippen looked a respectable little man, with weak, watery eyes and a drooping mustache, so ordi- nary a type of middle class business man in London that quite a number of people, in- cluding one of my own friends, were arrested by mistake for him when the hue and cry went forth.&#13;
| was at Bournemouth at that time, in one of the aviation meetings which were held in the early days of flying. It was celebrated by fancy fétes, open-air carnivals, fancy-dress&#13;
 &#13;
 &#13;
balls, and all kinds of diversions. The most respectable town in England, inhabited&#13;
mostly by retired colonels, well-to-do spinsters and invalids, seemed to take leave of its senses in a wild outburst of frivolity. Even the Mayor was to be seen in the broad glare of sunshine, wearing a false nose. Into that atmosphere of false noses and fancy frocks&#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
44 Philip came telegrams to several newspaper corres- pondents from their editors.&#13;
“Scotland Yard believes Crippen at Bourne- mouth. Please get busy.”&#13;
That was the tenor of the telegram sent to me, and | saw by the pink envelopes re- ceived by friends at table in the Grand Hotel one night that they had received similar mes- sages. One by one they stole out, looking mightily secretive—in search of Crippen, who by that time was nearing Halifax.&#13;
With a friend named Harold Ashton, a well-known “crime sleuth,” | went into the hall, and after a slight discussion decided that if Crippen was in Bournemouth it was not our job to find him. We were, for the time, ex- perts in aviation, and couldn’t be put off by foolish murders.&#13;
As we went upstairs, Ashton put his head over the banisters, and then uttered an ex- clamation:&#13;
“Scotland Yard!”&#13;
Looking over the stair-rail, | saw a pair of boots, belonging to a man sitting in the hall. True enough, they had come from Scotland Yard, according to the tradition which en- ables any detective to be recognized at a glance by any criminal. One of those de- tectives had been sent down on the false rumor, and probably hoped to find Doctor Crippen and Ethel le Neve disguised as Pierrot and Columbine on the pier.&#13;
Ashton and | decided to have a game with the man. We wrote a note in block letters, as follows:&#13;
“ARE YOU LOOKING FOR DOCTOR CRIPPEN? IF SO, BEWARE!”&#13;
By a small bribe, we hired a boy to deliver it to the detective, and then depart quickly.&#13;
The effect was obviously disconcerting to the man, for he looked most uneasy, and then hurried out of the hotel. Doubtless he could not understand how anybody in Bournemouth could know of his mission. Ashton and | followed him, and he was immediately aware that he was being shadowed. He went into a public-house and ordered a glass of beer which he did not drink. Ashton and | did the same, and were quick on his heels when he slipped out by a side door. We kept up this game for quite a time, until we tired of it, and to this day the detective must wonder who shadowed him so closely in Bournemouth, and for what fell purpose.&#13;
Gibbs&#13;
Curiously, by the absurd chances of jour- nalistic life, | became mixed up in the Crippen case, not only by having to describe the trial, but by having to write the life-story of Ethel le Neve. That girl, who had been Crippen’s typist, was quite a pretty and attractive little creature, and in spite of her flight with him in boy’s clothes, the police were satisfied that she was entirely innocent of the murder. Any- how, she was not charged, and upon her libera- tion she was immediately captured, at a price, by The Daily Chronicle who saw that her nar- rative would make an enormous sensation. They provided her with a furnished flat, under an assumed name, and for weeks The Daily Chronicle office was swarming with her sister’s family, while office boys fetched the milk for the baby, and sub-editors paid the outstand- ing debts of the brother-in-law, in order that Ethel le Neve should reserve her tale exclu- sively to the nice, kind paper! Such is the dignity of modern journalism, desperate for a “scoop.”&#13;
Eddy, a young barrister, now well-known and prosperous at the Bar and I| were associ- ated in the extracton of Ethel le Neve’s tale. He cross-examined her artfully, and persist- ently, with the firm belief that she knew all about the murder. Never once, however, did he trap her into any admission.&#13;
From my point of view, the psychology of the girl was extremely interesting. Just a little Cockney girl, from a family of humble class and means, she had astonishing and un- usual qualities. It is characteristic of her that when she was staying in Brussels with Crippen, disguised as a boy, and a remarkably good-looking boy she appeared, because she knew that Crippen was wanted by the law for “some old thing or other” which she didn’t bother to find out, she spent most of her time visiting the art galleries and museums of the Belgian capital. She had regarded the whole episode as a great “lark” until at Halifax de- tectives came aboard and arrested the fugi- tives on a charge of murder. She admitted to me that, putting two and two together, little incidents that had seemed trivial at the time, and remembering queer words spoken by Crippen—“ the doctor,”’ as she called him —she had no doubt now of his guilt. But, as she also admitted, that made no difference to her love for him. “He was mad when he did it,”’ she said, “and he was mad for me.” That was the extraordinary thing, that deep,&#13;
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Newspaper Adventures in Fleet Street 45&#13;
sincere, and passionate love between the little weak-eyed, middle-aged quack doctor, and his common, pretty little Cockney girl.&#13;
| read Crippen’s love letters, written to Ethel le Neve from prison, immensely long letters, written On prison paper in a neat little writing, without a blot or a fault. All told, there were forty thousand words of them&#13;
as long as a novel and they were surpris- ing in their good style, their beauty of expres- sion, their resignation to death. These two peo- ple from the squalor of a London suburb, might have been medieval lovers in Italy of Boc- caccio’s time, when mur- der for love’s sake was lightly done.&#13;
In a little restaurant in Soho | sat with Ethel le Neve, day after day, while all the journalists of England were search- ing forher. Many times she was so gay that it was impossible to believe that she had escaped the hangman’s rope by no great distance, and that her lover was a little blear-eyed man lying under sentence of death. Yet that gaiety of hers was not affected or forced. It bubbled out of her because of a quick and childish sense of humor which had not been killed by the frightful thing that overshadowed her. When that shadow fell upon her spirit again, she used to weep, but never for long. Her last request to me was that | should .have Doctor Crippen’s photograph made into a miniature which she could wear concealed upon her breast. On the morning of his exe- cution she put on black for him, and wished that she might have died with him on the scaffold.&#13;
| am certain, as the police were, that she was guiltless of all knowledge and participa-&#13;
GENERAL WILLIAM Who seized Sir Philip Gibbs and forced him to his knees while the Salvation Army&#13;
leader prayed for Lord Northcliffe’s redemption. Philip, Lord Northcliffe “ the prayer he professes not to know&#13;
 &#13;
BOOTH&#13;
Shortly thereafter, says Sir gave him the sack’’ but whether because of or despite&#13;
tion is the murder of Mrs. Crippen, but she seemed as careless of that crime as any woman of the Borgias when a rival was removed from her path of love. Some old strain of passion- ate blood had thrust up again in this London typist girl, whose name of le Neve might hold the clue, if we knew her family history, to this secret of her personality.&#13;
| was glad to see the last of her, having written down her tale, because that was not the kind of journalism which appealed to my instincts or ideals, and | sickened at the squalor of the whole story of love and murder, as | sat with Ethel le Neve in friendly dis- course, not without pity for this girl whose life had been ruined by her folly, and who would be forever haunted by the grim tragedy of Crippen’s crime.&#13;
 &#13;
  &#13;
REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL TIMBER&#13;
Possible Candidates for the Republican Nomi- nation, and How They Might Become Available&#13;
By MARK&#13;
N THE article on Republican Presidential possibilities in last month’s Wor.p’s Work, it was stated that the more impor- tant Republican party leaders had ar- rived at a consensus of feeling that Hard-&#13;
ing should be renominated as the candidate of the party next year, that this understanding would be final unless Harding personally should veto it by some definite act of stepping aside, that if such an abdication is made it will not be before Congress meets next Decem- ber, and that the party leaders are going on the assumption that Harding will not step aside, but will continue to follow a course consistent with the theory of the leaders that it is the best policy to name him for a second term.&#13;
In reciting the more important of the rea- sons for this understanding among the leaders, it was said that the leaders believe Harding to be, under the circumstances, the candidate who would promise the most confident ex- pectation of success; that while it was con- ceded by the leaders that the elections last November showed a striking decline from the high tide of Harding’s and the Republican Party’s popularity, nevertheless they felt there was reason for them to hope that some of this lost prestige will come back; that admitting Harding’s vote-getting strength has dimin- ished since his extraordinary triumph of 1920, there was no other possibility in sight who could be expected to duplicate or even ap- proximate that victory, under the changed conditions of 1924; that, indeed, there is no other possibility in sight who can offer a de- pendable promise of doing any better in 1924, or even as well, as Harding. Further than&#13;
this, these Republican leaders, reporting the.&#13;
state of feeling in the various communities they represent, arrived at a universal and rather emphatic judgment that in spite of the results of the elections last fall, Harding’s present standing in the feelings of the public is not one that can, by any stretch of critical&#13;
SULLIVAN&#13;
judgment, be called unpopular. On the contrary, their judgment was that, as some of them expressed it, “everybody likes Hard- ing.”. The leaders had and have much faith that certain qualities of equanimity, of pa- tience and tolerance, in Harding’s personality, will bring to him during the year and a half before the next election, a reassuring degree of popular favor, as a personal asset.” They think that Harding, who was practically a stranger to the country in 1920, won the elec- tion of that year almost wholly because of the circumstances of the campaign; and that Harding in 1924 will stand well with the people on his own account, as a result of the knowl- edge of him the public has acquired or will have acquired by the time the election comes. They admitted that the high tide of the popu- larity of Harding and the Republican adminis- tration was reached almost a year ago, about the ending of the Washington Conference, and that thereafter it ebbed strongly; they admitted that at this moment circumstances favor the Democrats, other things being equal. They even admitted the force of the precedent which says that, as to any administration, when things are running badly at the middle of it, the tendency is for that trend to gather increasing momentum; but they felt that, in spite of these admissions, nevertheless the advantages that attach to Harding’s position before the public, or which they hope will accrue to him during the next year and a half, make him the best available man for the nomination.&#13;
In addition to these reasons for the gen- eral agreement that Harding should be the next nominee, reasons based on a study of popular feeling and the other conditions, together with comparison of Harding with the alternative possibilities in sight—in addi- tion to all these, there was, in this decision, certain rule-of-thumb dicta of practical poli tics. These axioms of politics as an art, which guide the thought of politicians in&#13;
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Republican Presidential Timber 47&#13;
situations like this, can be reduced largely to two main propositions. The first can be stated thus:&#13;
Any President in office can always get a renomination for himself—it is impossible for any opponent to take it away from him.&#13;
The second is: Any one who gets the party nomination by taking it away from a President in office by a fight, is sure to be defeated by the opposing party in the ensuing election. It is like fighting for a horse, and, in the strug- gle, killing the horse.&#13;
Both these rules, which largely overlap and to a slight extent contradict each other, are accepted as binding by persons who follow politics as a practical art. As a matter of fact, in the changed conditions of the present, the first is a good deal less binding than the latter.&#13;
It is still the habit of politicians to say that a President in office can always get his party’s nomination for a second term, and that no one can hope to wage a successful fight against him. That has always been accepted as the rule, and it has always worked out in practice. But we must consider what effect may have been made on this precedent and tradition by the arising of the direct primary. The old rule rests partly on the theory that when a President in office wants renomination, all the office-holders, from Cabinet members down to local postmasters, will work for him, and that their aggregate power in the nominating convention is impossible to overcome. So long as nominations were determined wholly by leaders in the convention, this was un- doubtedly true; and it is still true to the extent that nominations are made in the conventions.&#13;
But the invention of the device of Presi- dential primaries for choosing delegates to national conventions, to the extent to which it has gone—and it now covers almost half the total number of delegates—may possibly have affected this old tradition to a greater extent than the politicians realize. The direct primary first came into widespread use in the campaign between Taft and Roose- velt in 1912. It is true that in that case the old rule worked. Taft was the President in office, and Roosevelt was in the position of an outsider trying to take the nomination away from him; and Taft won. The outsider failed to win, although that outsider was the strong- est personality in the country, although his policies were extremely popular, and although&#13;
he was backed by abundance of resources and organization. But in that 1912 fight, the operations of the direct primary were more restricted than they would be now, because the number of states which choose their dele- gates to national conventions by means of direct primaries is considerably greater now than it was in 1912. (Since 1912 there has been no test of this rule, for in 1916 and in 1920 there was no case of a President in office seeking renomination against strong opposi- tion. In 1916 President Wilson had practi- cally no opposition for the nomination, and in 1920 the then President in office was in his second term and for other reasons was not available for renomination, so that the situa- tion did not arise.)&#13;
A TEST FOR THE PRIMARIES&#13;
T IS quite possible that if the right man—&#13;
and he would need to have exceptional qualifications—should determine to make an aggressive fight to take the next Republican nomination away from Harding, we might learn just how potent the Presidential pri- maries are, in the extent to which they have now spread. In the next Republican Na- tional Convention, the total number of dele- gates will be a little more than one thousand. Of these, 465 are chosen by the direct primary method. Obviously it would be possible for an opponent of President Harding to get all of these 465 and still have less than half of the convention. But the Presidential pri- mary is being extended. At the present mo- ment there are 43 state legislatures in session, and in nine of these there are pending efforts to adopt the direct primary system. The important state of New York, with its 88 delegates, is one of those in which the direct primary system may be adopted. (It is quite possible that by the time this article is printed or a little later, the direct primary will have been extended to cover considerably more than a majority of the delegates.)&#13;
Further than this, it would not be necessary for an opponent of President Harding to get the entire 465 delegates that come from direct primary states, in order to make Harding’s renomination doubtful. (In point of fact, in the present situation, Harding would be quite certain to get a considerable number of these direct primary delegates himself.) But the potency of an aggressive opposition to President Harding would not necessarily be&#13;
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    &#13;
48&#13;
measured or limited by the number of direct primary delegates the opponent might get. If the opponent were the right man, if he had precisely the right adaptation to the popular mood, the degree of success which he would have in the direct primaries, even though it should be considerably short of majority of the whole convention, might still readily be such a demonstration of popular strength as would cause the party leaders, generally, including Harding himself, to take account of it.&#13;
But at this moment, the second of the two rules comes into effect. To take a specific example: Senator Hiram Johnson of Cali- fornia might be persuaded that if he should enter the direct primaries in the various states where they prevail, he might defeat Harding in state after state, and make such a showing that it would be clear to the voters, and to the country generally, that he, rather than Hard- ing, is the desired choice of the members of the party. But even if Senator Johnson and his friends were convinced of this, he would still be compelled to look in the face the dis- agreeable possibility that a nomination won with the bitterness which such a fight would entail, would turn out to be valueless. He might force the party leaders more or less un- willingly to nominate him. But afterward, in the ensuing election, there would be so much disapproval of his action, on the part of party leaders, that he could not count upon their enthusiasm in the coming election. Moreover, the nature of the contest would be such as to make it certain that many of the voters loyal to Harding would become dis- affected. And finally, in the process of defeating Harding for the nomination by an active fight, Johnson and his advocates would necessarily have uttered so much criticism of Harding and the Republican administration, that it would be a large contribution toward convincing the public that the best thing to do in the election would be to throw out the Republican party altogether, and elect a Democrat. It would be, as | have said, like fighting for the possession of a horse, and, in the struggle, killing the horse.&#13;
So much for the reasons which actuated the Republican party leaders in coming to a loose and tentative understanding that Harding should be nominated to succeed himself. In stating these reasons, one feels like hoping&#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
that not too much space has been consumed in an exposition of some of the arts of practical politics. It happens to be a field—this rule- of-thumb application of the principles of crowd psychology by shrewd men to the prac- tical business of achieving their purposes— in which the writer on his own part finds a degree of interest that almost approaches fascination.&#13;
CHANGES IN THE LAST MONTH&#13;
INCE the writing of the article last month, in which this understanding— somewhat tenuous and wholly tentative—to renominate Harding, was recorded, there have been some slight changes in the situation. It is a fact that the renomination of Harding continues to be the programme, and that any change in it, if it should happen at all, will not be likely to occur for five or six months or more. At the same time, there have been unmistakable developments of the sort that men active in politics or close to politics in the rdle of observers, are able to appraise —developments of which it can be said that they at least hint a little more, than was the case a month or two ago, toward potential opposition. So far as these developments point toward the emergence of any other in- dividual as a candidate formidable enough to disrupt the present programme, they revolve around Senator Hiram Johnson of California. It was shortly after the party leaders had more or less definitely arrived at the feeling that Harding must be renominated, that there arose the issue of America’s joining the Per- manent Court for International Justice. The history of that proposal was this: As much as a year or more ago, when this court was first organized, it was apparent that Secretary Hughes gave favorable thought to the idea of America becoming a party of its jurisdiction and a participant in its mechanism. During several months, diplomatic correspondence was carried on with the principal other nations in the court, looking to agreement on condi- tions under which the United States, not being a member of the League of Nations, and speci- fically dissenting from any willingness to join the League, could yet manage to become a party to the League’s court. These negotia- tions were completed, it was apparent to us here in Washington, and the proposal was ready to be submitted to the Senate, as early as a few days after the first of February. But&#13;
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at that time the Senate was engaged in a rather intense controversy over President Harding’s strongly held policy of a ship subsidy, a controversy of which the intensity included the use of the filibuster by the op- ponents of the project. President Harding, either because he did not want to throw an- other important proposal into this situation, or because of this reason in addition to others, withheld his message recommending our join- ing the court until a week and a day before the end of the session. The message reached the Senate late on a Saturday afternoon. The reaction of the Senate was one of strong sur- prise. To one who observed the incident closely, it appeared doubtful whether any man on the floor had been made aware that the proposal was coming. It is possible that Senator Lodge, to whom, as Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations, the pro- posal was of particular interest, may have been told in advance of its coming. But even this seemed doubtful. Certainly it seemed reasonable to say that probably every other Senator was surprised by the message.&#13;
“THE BATTALION OF DEATH”&#13;
FTER the individual Senators had con- sidered the matter over the leisure of a Sunday, there developed during the closing week of the session a line-up much the same as the fight over the League of Nations. It is true that the band of Senators who made the fight against the League of Nations, that group of advocates of the policy of isolation, who called themselves, with some pride in the terminology, “the battalion of death,” and “the irreconcilables,’’ have been dimin- ished lately by the defection of the man who was clearly the ablest among them, namely Senator Borah. But in spite of this defection, it is safe to say that this group is stronger now than it was at the time of the League of Na- tions fight. For one reason, they have so managed things during the past two years as to entrench themselves greatly in power within the Committee on Foreign Relations. Of the ten Republican members of that Com- mittee, five are avowed isolationists—and this number does not include the chairman, Senator Lodge, who, if he is to be classified, with one group or the other, certainly cannot be classified with those who believe in any strong measure of international codperation. It was to thisCommittee that President Hard-&#13;
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Republican Presidential Timber 49&#13;
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ing’s proposal about the Permanent Court for International Justice was referred; and the action of that Committee, while it was called by the euphemistic phrase of “ post- poning action until next December,’’ was more truly of the nature of opposition. Within&#13;
the Committee, within the Senate, and throughout the country, there arose a lineup of positions on the proposal. And in that lineup there was one man who came clearly to the front as the leader and spokesman of the opposition. That man was Senator Johnson. He put himself on record, not only unequivocally but with an aggressive forceful- ness that was the more forceful for being pun- gently phrased, directly in opposition to Harding’s advocacy of the Court. By that action, Senator Johnson raised an issue be- tween himself and Harding which, when it comes to be fought out within the Senate and before the country next fall, can hardly avoid taking a form which must have some relation to the next presidential nomination.&#13;
At the same time there arose, among some of the senators, and among some other party leaders throughout the country, a disposition (partially kept under cover for reasons for party morale) to put forward Senator Johnson for the Republican Presidential nomination as an alternative to Harding. Some of the reasons for this putting forward of Johnson were associated with his stand on the perma- nent court, and his opposition to President Harding’s advocacy of that proposal. That is to say, some of the impulse for this putting forward of Johnson came from his irreconcil- able associates, and had that as its motive. At the same time, no careful recorder of con- temporary American politics can fail to set down the fact that there are throughout the country some Republican leaders who take upon themselves no concern whatever about foreign policies, but are solely concerned with getting the maximum number of votes for the Republican ticket, with electing a maximum number of Republican sheriffs and other local Republican officials; and who, having only this practical concern, believe that Johnson would be a more vigorous campaigner, a more crowd-raising spell-binder, and in all respects a better vote-getter than Harding. The Republican senators and the other Republican leaders who entertain this restrained but nevertheless restless dissent from the pro- gramme of nominating Harding, include some&#13;
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50 Mark Sullivan&#13;
men who are powerful in their own personali- ties, powerful in their communities, and power- ful in the Republican organization.&#13;
HOW FAR THE MOVEMENT HAS GONE&#13;
HIS sullen dissent from the programme&#13;
of nominating Harding, this restless wish, restrained with difficulty from open expres- sion, to put forward Johnson, either with the purpose of actually nominating Johnson or else using him to upset the programme, and throw the situation into a free-for-all-race— this is about as far as the movement has gone for the present. Further developments of it will probably await the return of Senator Johnson from Europe, at which time it will be put up to him, and a decision will be ar- rived at, in which decision Senator Johnson’s personal reaction to the urgings of the insur- gent and the discontented will have the chief weight. For the present, Senator Johnson’s reaction is what has already been indicated, namely, that he has no disposition to embark on the vain business of wresting a nomination away from Harding, which nomination, by the very act of wresting it, will be so mauled in the struggle that it will be valueless to the winner.&#13;
Of course, assuming that this development comes to anything at all, the form which it may ultimately take is by no means confined to that of a rough fight between these two contestants and these only. Indeed, that particular form is the least likely of the pos- sible ultimate results of this movement coming to anything. For if this situation should ever develop to the point where Senator Johnson makes war on Harding for the nomination, or permits his friends to make war on his be- half, there will instantly arise a condition which will transform the whole political situa- tion and out of which any one of several lay- outs may present itself. Any aggressive action on the part of Senator Johnson or his friends would be taken instantly as the signal that the pre-arranged programme as it now stands for the renomination of Harding with- out serious opposition, is off, and that the race is to be a free-for-all. The same result would follow if President Harding himself should de- cide, either for personal reasons or because he finds implacable opposition within his party to his advocacy of the international court, to step aside from the race. (As a matter of fact, any aggressive initiative on the part of&#13;
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Senator Johnson or his friends would have as its true object, not so much a fight to the finish between him and Harding, but rather the making of such a demonstration of popu- lar strength behind Johnson and his policy as to intimidate Harding into stepping aside.) In the free-for-all race which will follow any action in the nature of abandoning the present programme of nominating Harding without formidable opposition, several other figures would come to the front. Some of them might come to the front through the will of Harding himself. That is to say, if Harding for any reason, personal or otherwise, should determine to step aside, he would be urged strongly by many of his friends to couple that abdication with an effort to pass on his mantle to some member of his cabinet like Hoover, or to some other choice of himself and those leaders who compose his loyal support.&#13;
THE SENIOR SENATOR FROM IDAHO&#13;
N ANY free-for-all race that might develop,&#13;
Senator Borah would become a serious possibility. Borah has probably as large a personal following as any other one man in American public life. Among this following there are many who already are either urging Borah to become a candidate, or else, without saying anything to him, are taking tentative steps to start an organization for him. To all this sort of thing Borah’s reaction at this time is much the same as Senator Johnson’s is for the present; namely, that he takes no interest in the futile business of making a fight against President Harding, which fight, in the very making of it, would have, more than any other effect, that of providing arguments and building up public emotions of a sort likely to cause the public to turn away from any Republican whatever, and to vote for the Democratic nominee. But while this reasoning is a determining factor with Senator Borah so long as the present pro- gramme continues, it would disappear, ob- viously, with any transformation of it into an open race.&#13;
Another man who would probably be in- jected into the situation, if it should turn into a free-for-all, is ex-Senator Beveridge of Indiana. It is true that Mr. Beveridge was defeated last fall in his race for Senator from Indiana; and true also that there is another of those rule-of-thumb axioms of practical politics, similar to the ones already mentioned,&#13;
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which says that a man who has been defeated&#13;
in his own state in the immediately preceding&#13;
election, is thereby made unavailable for the&#13;
Presidential race. But the leaders who know this rule and ordinarily abide by it, know also that the particular circumstances of Mr. Beveridge’s defeat in Indiana last November were such as to remove him from the opera- tion of the rule. There is not space here to go into the details of that local Indiana case, but it is a fact that the circumstances of Beveridge’s defeat were such that they could be capitalized in a way to make that defeat, not a liability, but actually as asset to him as a candidate for the Republican presidential nomination. For the present, Beveridge is following a course which seems to negative any thought of putting him forward for the presidency. Immediately after his defeat last fall he set to work upon the writing of a life of Lincoln, analogous to his already completed life of John Marshall. In writing his Mar- shall, Beveridge spent probably the equiva- lent of five years of continuous labor. He made not merely a life of Marshall but a his- tory of America during the period when Mar- shall was to the front. In the writing of it the author put an amount of research which de- veloped a quantity of new material that is astonishing considering the time that has elapsed since Marshall’s death and the num- ber of other writers who have already covered that period of American history. To dupli- cate in the case of Lincoln what has been done in the case of Marshall, would be an exception- ally absorbing and time-consuming labor. To carry it on at the same time with a candidacy for the Presidency would be impossible. |n- asmuch as Beveridge is already in the swing of it and is absorbed in it with the intensity that any such work involves, it would prob- ably take the strongest sort of urging to per- suade him to any other endeavor in the field of politics. And yet there are so many per- sons who believe that Beveridge is peculiarly adapted to the need of the times, so peculiarly available for gathering together the largest number of factions of the Republican party that, in the event of any open race for the Republican nomination, he is sure to be made the object of strong urgings. His lifelong identification with such concrete idealism as his work for measures preventing child labor, and his formal identification with Roosevelt and the old Progressive party, make him ac-&#13;
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Republican Presidential Timber 51&#13;
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ceptable to the less extremely radical, at least, of the group that call themselves progressive Republicans. At the same time, the boldness —in which respect he is unique among Re- publican leaders—with which he advocates the revision of taxation in the interest of busi- ness, and the rescue of business from much of the government interference which now harasses it, has caused many of the most conspicuous and forceful of those elements of the Republican party which are frankly conservative, to think of him as providing a more dependable promise of the things they wish for than any other Republican possibility.&#13;
LOWDEN OF ILLINOIS&#13;
NOTHER figure who might readily emerge in the event of any open race is ex-Governor Lowden of Illinois. There are strong reasons for both an impulse within himself and a pressure from without to push Lowden forward. Lowden came close to winning the 1920 nomination. The causes of his failure were largely accidental and ad- ventitious. One of the chief of them was the explosion of a scandal involving the use of money by some of those who were promoting his candidacy in one of the states. The actual circumstances of this case were such that they cast no discredit on Lowden personally. But the incident happened at a time when it was too late to overtake the adverse impression which arose. To have been kept from the prize by this and other circumstances equally adventitious, must create in any man just the sort of psychology that gives him a strong motive for vindication. Further than this, it is strongly in the minds of many of those who are most thoughtful in the development of public opinion, that Governor Lowden’s record commends him peculiarly for one of the most serious needs of the times. Lowden as governor of Illinois made a record for the achievement of economy and efficiency in state government probably not equalled by any other governor or any other man in public life. To those who think that economy and efficiency in government—to repeat a trite phrase—is one of the most serious needs of the times, Governor Lowden makes a strong appeal.&#13;
Yet another figure who would be put for- ward, if the race should become an open one, is Governor Pinchot of Pennsylvania. Those idealists who composed the fighting front of&#13;
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the old Roosevelt progressive movement would never be willing to let the next Repub- lican presidential nomination go by default. To a considerable extent they would be gal- vanized into action by the candidacy of John- son of California. Ten years ago, they recognized Johnson as one of themselves. “Many of them still regard him so. But con- siderable numbers of them—and they include the ones who were the most ardent idealists —are aggrieved by Johnson’s more recent closeness to the regular wing of the party. These more deeply moving spirits of the old Roosevelt group tend to think of Johnson as in one degree or another a backslider; and, having the feeling which the orthodox usually have for the apostate, they would be more shocked at the nomination of Johnson than at that of an avowed and consistent regular. These more ardent of the old Roosevelt ideal- ists would never be content to have the race go on without being represented by one of the true faith, and Pinchot would appeal to them completely.&#13;
WHAT LAFOLLETTE WILL DO&#13;
HERE remains to be mentioned one who&#13;
will be in the race whether Harding runs or does not run, whether Johnson runs or does not run—who will make the fight under any set of circumstances that may arise. Probably it can be said of LaFollette that he is more certain to be in the race than any other one man. .And with equal certainty it can be said he is more certain to lose than any other man already mentioned or likely to be mentioned. But that certainty will not deter LaFollette from putting his shoulder to the wheel of what he regards as a sacred duty. LaFollette is of that temperament that gathers intensity of determination from the very hopelessness of the fight. It is this quality that gives LaFollette a value in our public life difficult to bear in mind, and hard to persuade others to concede, at this time of great popular disapproval of him. The con- tribution that men of LaFollette’s tempera- ment make to the public good, in spite of their stridency, their soured bitterness, their stub- bornness, their frequent unreason—the con-&#13;
Mark Sullivan&#13;
tribution which they make in spite of all these qualities, is their willingness to give sustained expression to causes with which the majority of us disagree, the support and advocacy they give to little minorities who so frequently are almost savagely proscribed by our often intolerant majorities. The usefulness of men like LaFollette—most desirable to remember in proportion as he is now deeply disapproved —is that such men are willing to be the vehicle for the first expression of causes not yet popu- lar, as well as for the last expression of causes that have lost and become outlawed. Any one of us who finds himself, in a moment of irritation, tempted to go to extremes in ut- tering regret over some of LaFollette’s recent actions and his present prevailing attitude, must be restrained if he yields to a moment of thought in which to reflect that no one can tell when the occasion may arise in which LaFollette’s lone courage—a courage whose outstanding quality is that it exults in its solitariness—may be our only reliance to give voice to some great but temporarily un- popular need.&#13;
But when all has been said that can be said in kindly remembrance of the time when LaFollette was the hard-fighting pioneer of issues which have since won to popular ap- proval—the regulation of railroads, the direct primary, the increased taxation of wealth— when all has been said that must in justice be said of the earlier LaFollette, it must there- after be said that in his present mood of al- most morbid truculence, he gives justi- fication to those, including many of his old followers, who regard him as not only not useful, but actually the stirrer-up of more troubles in an already too-troubled world; and for the present not in tune with the emo- tions or the real needs of any except a com- paratively minute section of the American people. He will be a candidate for the Republican nomination, he will remain a candidate until the last ballot of the conven- tion, he will have the delegates from his own state and scattering fragments from other state delegations; but the total of his strength at any time will probably not reach as much as one-tenth of the convention.&#13;
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THE SILENT SALESMAN&#13;
Advertising: Its Methods and Its Psychology.&#13;
How It Has&#13;
Lessened Costs to Consumers by Giving Volume to Sales&#13;
By FLOYD W. PARSONS&#13;
DVERTISING is the most widely discussed subject in business to- day. Does it really pay? Isita boon to humanity, or a burden? Does it increase or reduce the costs&#13;
of commodities? Is it an art that can be carried on in accordance with established rules of a scientific nature? Is it a factor in ad- vancing civilization, or merely a_ business expense?&#13;
It is doubtless true that advertising is the most common activity in which civilized peo- ple are now engaged. It is an ancient busi- ness, for Pompeii, like New York, had its “Great White Way.” Pedestrians passing along the crowded thoroughfares of Hercu- laneum were confronted by advertisements of plays, gladiatorial contests, salt and fresh- water baths, luridly and permanently done in colors, red and black predominating. Cen- turies ago, in Egypt, the capture of runaway slaves was often effected through the distri- bution of hand-bills and posters made of papyrus, containing a description of the fugitive and naming a reward for capture. The fact is that the moment each family ceased to be an entirely independent group, and the head of the house gave up the making of shoes, clothing, and other necessities to engage in a single pursuit, advertising com- menced.&#13;
The ballyhoos of our amusement parks and seaside resorts, with their raucous entreaties, are only twentieth-century models of the town criers of the Middle Ages, who came out into the market place and. shouted their news to the passing throng. In early times, the tradesmen or their apprentices cried out their wares at the shop doors. Even to-day this practice is followed in some Yiddish sections of our big cities.&#13;
If our ideas and knowledge concerning advertising had been as great years ago as to- day, civilization would have advanced more rapidly. Advertising is the only force that&#13;
can be employed successfully to counteract the natural hostility of the public toward all radical change or innovation. People did not want the railroad, and the introduction of steam transportation was seriously delayed by the prevalence of the notion that a speed of thirty or more miles an hour would greatly hinder the free circulation of the blood. Ful- ton and his steamboat were held up to ridi- cule, and Brunel, who piloted the first steam- boat on the Thames, became so unpopular he was refused admission in the London hotels. The first sewing-machine placed on exhibition by Howe was smashed by a mob. Westinghouse was called a fool by railroad experts, and Murdoch was sneered at-because he suggested the use of gas for light. The public was sure there could be no lamp with- out a wick.&#13;
To-day we know better than to try and introduce something new without first creat- ing an understanding of the thing and a de- mand for it. If Morse could have used modern advertising, he would not have had to plead for years before Congress and the public in order to get attention for the tele- graph. Neither would McCormick have had to preach efficient harvesting by word of mouth for fifteen years in his effort to intro- duce the mechanical reaper. Publicity or advertising, as now conducted, would have made a market for all of these inventions in short order.&#13;
Advertising was haphazard; now it is or- ganized. A generation ago it did not enjoy the prestige now accorded it. Then it was held to be dishonorable for one merchant to attempt to entice away the customer of an- other. At present, advertising is the soul of business. Professional men in various lines still believe it is unethical to advertise their skill, but one day this idea also will be swept away, and doctors, lawyers, clergymen, and others will be able to use the printed page for dignified advertising without losing caste&#13;
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  &#13;
TIMES SQUARE,&#13;
Floyd W. Parsons&#13;
 &#13;
© Ewing Galloway&#13;
NEW YORK&#13;
Showing a small part of the vast collection of electric signs&#13;
that have made Broadway into&#13;
in the community. Mark Twain, when edi- tor of a small-town paper, received a letter from a superstitious subscriber, saying he had found a spider in his paper, and asking whether that was a sign of good luck or bad. The humorist printed the following answer: “Finding a spider in your paper was neither good luck nor bad luck for you. The spider was merely looking over the paper to see which merchant is not advertising, so he can go to that store, spin his web across the door and lead a life of undisturbed peace ever afterward!”’&#13;
Forty years ago a daily newspaper was sup- ported by its subscribers, advertising yield- ing no more than one third of the total re- ceipts. At the present time, the advertising yield on many papers averages-as high as 90 per cent., while the revenue from subscrip- tions is practically negligible. Not only the press now depends upon advertising, but the vast public as well. Advertising pays be- cause people read it. Many individuals scan the advertising pages of a newspaper or a periodical before they read the stories and articles. Dunne’s inimitable “Mr. Dooley”’ was made to say, in his characteristic way: “What | object to is whin | pay tin or fifteen cents for a magazine, expectin’ to spind me&#13;
“the great white way”’&#13;
avenin’ improvin’ me mind with the latest thoughts in advertisin’, to find more thin a quatter of the book devoted to literachoor.”’ The best estimates indicate that at the present time the total annual expenditure for advertising in the United States alone amounts to nearly two billion dollars. Many retail stores spend as much as 5 per cent. of their expected sales on advertising. It is seldom that this expenditure by a progressive merchant is less than 2 percent. The United States, with its 25,000 newspapers and period- icals, is the greatest field for advertising in the world. It is also interesting to note that there are more than 525 advertising agencies in the United States. Some of these com- panies have large organizations and handle millions of dollars’ worth of advertising each year. Approximately $50,000,000 is now invested annually in making specialties for use in advertising, such as calendars, memor- andum books, etc. In the neighborhood of 7,000 students are now enrolled in advertis- ing courses in thirty-four American colleges and universities. Several thousand addi- tional students are preparing for advertising careers in Y.M.C.A. schools, commercial schools, correspondence schools, and various other similar institutions. This is not a bad&#13;
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The Silent Salesman 55&#13;
showing, considering that advertising courses in schools and colleges are a development of the last decade.&#13;
Business history has shown that widely ad- vertised goods are the last to feel a general industrial depression. An investigation of the business failures occurring in the United States during the recent depression showed that 84 per cent. were firms that did not ad- vertise. One writer draws the conclusion that there is an implied contract with the public in honest advertising which tends to keep a firm’s affairs straight.&#13;
Not many years ago, one hundred dollars a page was considered a high average rate for advertising. To-day a number of firms appro- priate more than a million dollars a year each for advertising, while advertisements in some of our great national papers are considered bargains at a hundred dollars a column-inch. It is not surprising, therefore, that advertis- ing definitely molds the habits of a people. It exerts a greater influence on the public mind than most people imagine. Many people can name several brands of cigarettes, toothpaste, or breakfast food, who couldn't possibly tell you the name of the vice-presi- dent of the nation. In recent years the pub-&#13;
lic taste has been mounting steadily, due to the educational influence of advertising. It is the advertisements people read which give them their impressions of what a first-rate article should be.&#13;
Not long ago a famous store in a big East- ern city spent several thousand dollars ad- vertising a coming sale of muslin. The ap- propriation to cover the advertisements was based on a figure which the company believed would amount to no more than 3 per cent. of the sales. Never before had so much money been expended in advertising a special sale of a single cheap commodity. Some members of the firm believed the venture foolish and predicted a loss. . Much to their surprise, the sale was a record success, notwithstanding the extremely low price charged for the goods. More than 100,000 yards of muslin were dis- posed of, and, because of this huge turnover, the company secured for itself a profit, and the purchasers of the muslin benefited through getting the material at a price which could not have been placed on the goods if it had not been for the enormous volume of the sale, due to such wide advertising. The public too often ignores the value of advertising to them. Overhead charges and selling costs&#13;
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Gam oiorse aoo0re&#13;
SIGN BOARDS AROUND A BASEBALL PARK&#13;
Where thousandsof people congregate almost daily throughout the long baseball season. This baseball park is the Polo Grounds, New York&#13;
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56 Floyd W. are reduced in proportion as the total volume of business increases.&#13;
Nothing is more amazing than the values which have been created in the way of trade- marks for companies that have engaged in extensive advertising’ campaigns. In _ the case of many companies, the trade-mark of the concern has a value far greater than that of the total equipment of the corporation’s plants. One company doing an international business and using a trade-mark composed of six letters, now places a value of a million dollars on each letter. It is doubtless true that any one of a dozen well known trade- marks which appear regularly in the country’s periodicals, has a value of from five to ten million dollars.&#13;
Our conception of advertising is quite different from what it used to be. Big cor- porations are now content to work for the ad- vancement of the industry they form a part of, knowing full well that whatever benefits and enlarges their industry brings a share of profit to themselves. One great railroad has figured out that each new family settling in one of the states the road traverses, is worth no less than three hundred dollars to the transportation system. Having this thought in mind, the country’s important carriers now coéperate with Chambers of Commerce and state officials in the work of bringing new in- dustries and desirable settlers into the regions they serve. Many of the railroad advertise- ments tell of the specific needs of certain towns, and the willingness of the people to welcome new citizens. Many of the railroads can tell you quicker than any one else which town needs a drug-store and which one a lumber mill or shoe factory. All of which shows the tendency of present advertising.&#13;
Advertising methods of the past were rather poor, and the advertisements them- selves often misleading. As a result, even conservative and legitimate publicity was looked upon with disfavor for many years. The chief essentials in advertising to-day are truth and accuracy. No longer do huge ad- vertising campaigns arouse astonishment and suspicion. The selling news furnished by the modern advertiser is a real boon to the busy housewife, as well as to those engaged in pursuits outside of the home, and who have so little time in which to shop. If advertis- ing did nothing else, it would be worth while as a conservator of energy in shopping.&#13;
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Parsons&#13;
Startling advertisements are of no value unless they sell goods. A writer once said that the test of a preacher was not when his flock came out of the church raving about his marvelous eloquence and oratory, but when they emerged quietly, saying, perhaps only to themselves, “1 will do something!” We may hear great orators and be satisfied with their eloquence, but the preachers worth while are the ones who make us dissatisfied with ourselves. So in advertising, the writer must make each reader dissatisfied with him- self until he follows the suggestion contained in the advertisement.&#13;
Short advertisements, like short editorials, are exceedingly difficult to write. Advertis- ing men who work under pressure usually have time to write long advertisements, but seldom can spare the time to prepare high- class short ones. It is said that Roosevelt received a dollar a word for his work on Africa. No one will deny that this was an unusually high rate of payment, but it is far less than the words of an advertisement writer cost a company that is staging a national campaign.&#13;
No man ever made a success in advertising writing who lacked a deep understanding of human nature. P. T. Barnum made a great success of advertising before he went into the circus business. The success of the Jenny Lind concerts in America were largely due to his admirable publicity campaign. Every advertisement must be harnessed to some human motive, instinct, or passion, and then human nature will be sure to finish the job so well started.&#13;
The man or woman who would win in ad- vertising must, above all else, be a psycholog- ist. In ages past, and even to-day, of all things human, physical or material, seemingly the most lawless is the mind of man. In our thoughts we often pass from the dark ages to future times in the fraction of a second. With- out doubt, the mind is the least confined force in the universe. As a consequence, it has been a difficult job to find laws that accu- rately cover mind action.&#13;
One authority states that the qualities essential for good advertising are, first, ima- gination; second, knowledge of human na- ture, and third, a little more knowledge of human nature. A _ high-grade advertising writer must possess enthusiasm and _ versa- tility. He must be able to understand a business possibility and present it in language&#13;
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A TYPICAL STREET IN A TYPICAL Shelton Square and Main Street, Buffalo, New York, showin&#13;
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that is clear, simple, and forceful. He must possess artistic. ability and be capable in conducting research. He must have selective power, to take the smallest number of facts and make the maximum impression out of them. He should have at least a good aca- demic education, although a college diploma is not necessary. Training in merchandise and selling, printing and engraving and news- paper reporting are all assets. Many of our successful adwriters were once traveling salesmen. Above all, the advertising man should have a thorough knowledge of the business he is writing about. If it is a large manufacturing concern, he should have a working knowledge of most of the machinery. Too few advertising men realize the impor- tance of thoroughly familiarizing themselves not only with the processes employed in the industry or business they serve, but of learn- ing the essential facts concerning the raw ma- terials used and the sources of supply for these materials.&#13;
The advertising man must be original. Most successful careers in publicity work can be dated from the execution of some new idea. Among the schemes that have netted results a few may be mentioned: One cam-&#13;
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paign emphasized the defects of certain articles. The goods were marked at a very low selling figure and the reduction was ad- vertised as due to the articles being slightly soiled. The frankness of the advertiser made a strong appeal, and this same plan is now used often.&#13;
One writer of advertisements who has made a notable success in advertising by mail writes practically all of his circulars in narrative form. He believes that the closer a selling talk approximates to the shape of a story, the more effective it will be found. Actual concrete descriptions in advertising hold attention better than recitals in the abstract. It is always better to follow the line of least resistance, in language as well as in ideas and style. The language of the man on the street may not be highly literary, but it is the kind of talk that will be read with the closest attention.&#13;
The advertising writer must be analytical and observant of details. The most cele- brated followers of the profession attribute their success to confidence-breeding copy. Exaggeration is ruinous. One director of publicity never makes a new move without arranging in some way to secure a check on&#13;
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   &#13;
58 Floyd W. results. He found on test that it is best to affix stamps to return postal cards mailed to homes, while it is not necessary to place stamps on cards sent to offices. In many homes stamps are not available, and because of the lack of a stamp the possible customer defers action and finally loses interest. It was also discovered that it was wiser and more economical to get out 50,000 really artistic booklets at twenty cents each if the waste is only 15 per cent., than 50,000 unattractive booklets at five cents each if the waste is 85 per cent. This same advertiser successfully used a night-letter telegraph form in con- ducting a selling campaign by circular letters. The telegram was enclosed with the letter for reply, and was addressed to the advertiser and marked collect. All the purchaser had to do was to write in a few words and sign the wire. A great idea in advertising to-day is to get up a jingle, maxim, word, or phrase that the public will take up and pass on from one to another. “You press the button and we do the rest,’ was first stated in an advertisement. Although science has largely dispensed with the button, the saying remains. Sermons have been preached and editorials written about some of the famous character figures of advertising. Words coined by companies to designate certain of their products have found their way into the dictionaries. The special name “ kodak,” although only a brand or trade-mark, is about as well known as the common word, “camera,’’ and is erroneously applied to all makes of portable hand cameras. One leader in national publicity work who has made a deep study of advertising stated to me his philosophy concerning the business, and some of his views will doubtless prove interesting and instructive. It is human nature to believe first on instinctive grounds, and only seek for logical reasons or justifica- tion afterward when the initial belief is challenged. As a consequence, the clever advertiser first seduces and persuades the reader with an emotional appeal and then follows with his logical arguments. The advertisement must hang together if it would be remembered, and generally must be pleas- ant to hold interest. Advertisements that are 100 per cent. human-nature copy lack convinc- ing reasons and seldom bring buying action. The occupations and sex of people deter- mine the tendencies of their minds and the character of their thoughts. Men agree more&#13;
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Parsons&#13;
closely in their preferences, and women are more alike in their dislikes. Size catches women more often than men. Blue attracts men, while red appeals to women. Pictures catch men; personal appeals women. Gen- erally speaking, women can write the best advertisements intended to attract their own sex. When writing advertisements for women readers, most men seem to get effeminate and fancy in their style. In most cases photo- graphs are more effective than drawings. Return coupons are valuable. They contain a command, and tend to overcome laziness. People will read, but dislike to write. It is use- less to try to influence the minds of others un- less you know in what terms they are thinking.&#13;
Experiment has shown that a single mind can attend to only four words or objects at once—four pictures, four letters, or four figures. A four-word line is ideal. Power of attraction depends on the number of counter-attractions. Whenan advertisement contain. a half-dozen or more displays, each one acts as a counterattraction to the others. The hoot of anowl at midnight has fewcounter attractions. Attention value depends upon contrast. We see each page of a magazine in relation to what has gone before. Novel things and sudden changes gain attention. When a concern produces two or more pro- ducts, it is always well to identify the different advertisements with the producing company. This can be done by using a common seal or border. Always when the advertisement is changed, some characteristic feature should remain constant so the public will recognize the advertisement as an old friend.&#13;
Don’t try to move the public mind too suddenly. Don’t try to crowd too many things into one advertisement. Don’t use descriptions made up of technical terms. Don’t talk over your readers’ heads. Don’t forget that the success of an advertisement depends largely on the wise choice of type and illustration. Don’t overlook the fact that women direct the consumption of 85 per cent. of the country’s total productions. Don't forget there is a lot of human interest con- nected with all merchandise, and remember it is Wise to stress the element of public service in a business. If building for a long, bright future, keep in mind that impressions formed in youth are the most lasting, so try and educate the children of to-day; they will do the buying of to-morrow.&#13;
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The Silent Salesman 59&#13;
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A COUNTRY STORE AND POST OFFICE&#13;
With signs advertising for the country dweller the same commodities that are ad- vertised on city signs and in the pages of newspapers and magazines&#13;
Even in the matter of window displays there is a great opportunity for expert treatment of the goods that are shown, and it is for this rea- son that comparatively large salaries are paid to the window trimmers of our big retail stores. It is generally believed that the average passer-by will look first to the right hand corner, and this is why most trimmers place the leading article on display in the right-hand corner of the window. The ex- perts of the big stores never make the mistake of overdressing their windows—that is, dis- playing too great a variety of goods. A win- dow may present a pleasing picture, and yet fail to sell goods, because the background draws all the attention. It is best to show a few articles and have them appear against a background that is as nearly as possible identical with the actual background they would appear against in every-day use. Store windows become efficient salesmen when properly handled.&#13;
Advertising possesses numerous advantages over other selling methods. The average advertisement may repeat its appeal, while the salesman must say his little piece and leave. It is paid for once and for all. It&#13;
reaches the people the salesman couldn’t meet, never gets sick, and works on Sunday. Hundreds of commodities have been made easy to use, convenient, and economical of time in handling, through the persistent de- mands of the advertisement writer for an article of greater merit.&#13;
Our advertising methods are far from per- fect. There is the story of the American who was piloting an Englishman about New York’s theatrical centre one evening. Suddenly the American stopped and pointed upward. “See that sign?”’ he said with enthusiasm and somewhat of pride. The Englishman said something about “not being able to help it.” “It has 50,000 lights in it!’’ continued the American. “But, my dear chap,” replied the Englishman, “doesn’t that make it fright- fully conspicuous?’ Undoubtedly a lot of Americans hold a view on advertising quite like that of the Britisher, and perhaps there is merit in the thought that advertising in one way or another can be overdone. How- ever, if the dollar profits of a concern are ac- cepted as the gauge of the value of advertising, there is far more to be feared from whispering down a well than from shouting from a tree.&#13;
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PLANTING TREES TO SERVE&#13;
OUR CHILDREN&#13;
The Need for More Forests, and How Pennsylvania Has Gone About Getting&#13;
Them.&#13;
The Cost of Carelessness, and How Foresight Can be Made to Pay&#13;
By LEWIS EDWIN THEISS&#13;
ETWEEN the years of 1870 and&#13;
1890, the state of Pennsylvania&#13;
was the greatest logging camp in&#13;
the world, supplying the bulk of&#13;
the lumber for the entire United&#13;
States. To-day, the state of Pennsylvania is producing barely enough timber to make coffins for the Pennsylvanians who die. There is not one stick remaining for the living.&#13;
Throughout the nation as a whole the situa- tion is not much better. Four fifths of our original forests have been destroyed. In the area that remains, we are cutting timber four times as fast as it is growing.&#13;
What is worse, we are not merely cutting the timber; we are destroying the forests. When Columbus first set foot on the New World, the 28,000,000 acres that are now Pennsylvania were covered, save for lakes and streams, with the densest stands of the finest timber in the world. Of these 28,000,000 acres, 13,000,000 are naturally forest land—rough, rugged mountain land that can never be farmed and that is fit for nothing but the production of timber. No- where in the world has finer timber grown than grew on these 13,000,000 acres. The reckless logger with his conscienceless cutting, and the careless camper with his unextin- guished cigarette, have undone in a few short years what it took nature uncounted cen- turies to accomplish. To-day six of those thirteen million acres are absolute desert, as bare and dreary and unproductive as Sahara itself. Not only is the forest gone, but the very soil itself has vanished, leaving nothing but the bare, hideous, unproductive rocks, on which practically nothing will grow.&#13;
«The forest area thus denuded in Pennsyl- vania alone is practically as large as the states of Rhode Island and Connecticut combined. And in the entire nation the forest area thus changed to an appalling desert now totals&#13;
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81,000,000 acres—a space almost fourteen times as vast as the combined area of Rhode Island and Connecticut. And every year it is growing larger. New England was the first to be shorn of her large commercial stands of timber. It took a long time to exhaust this Eastern supply, for the nation was then small. Pennsylvania became next the great producer of lumber. Now our commercial supplies come from the South. A dozen years will see this Southern lumber practically exhausted. Already we are drawing heavily on the timber of the far West. Twenty-five years after the Southern supply is used up, wood will be scarce in the far West also. Our generation will see the day when wood is as scarce as coal was last winter. And our children will be pinched for wood far worse than any of us.&#13;
Yet this nation cannot continue to grow without lumber. Wood we must have. Wood we shall have. But we shall have to get it abroad, in the markets of the world, in competition with all the remainder of the earth. Europe, with one fourth of its area long under scientific forest culture, cannot begin to supply itself with wood. When we invade the markets whence Europe draws large supplies of wood, the competition will be deadly. For it will be a matter of life and death to the nations. Not only shall we have to buy our wood abroad, but we shall have to make sure we can get the wood home after we have bought it. We must be able to protect our lines of communication in times of war as well as in peace. And that means a larger navy or its equivalent. Had you thought of that? No matter if we do have treaties limiting naval armament; before economic facts, treaties are scraps of paper.&#13;
1 live in central Pennsylvania. When we got out lumber at home, we Pennsylvanians paid practically nothing for freight. Even&#13;
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Planting’ Trees to Serve Our Children&#13;
dwellers in New York or New England paid&#13;
. very little freight charges on our lumber, be-&#13;
cause rates were low and the distance was but a step. It is far different in the case of pres- ent supplies. To-day it costs $150 to $200 to bring a single car of lumber from the South to central Pennsyivania, and $400 to $500 to bring a car from the far West. My lumber dealer told me that during the war he paid as much as $800 freight on a single carload. A car contains twenty to twenty-five thousand feet of lumber. Thus the freight adds ten to twenty dollars a thousand tothe coast. A few years ago we could buy a thousand feet of lumber in Pennsylvania for that sum; anda few years earlier, we could buy two thousand feet for the present cost of freight alone on one thousand!&#13;
Indeed, the rise in the price of wood is al- most past belief. The carpenter who built a wing to our house this past summer worked,&#13;
61&#13;
when a very young man, in the Pennsylvania “lumber woods.” That was thirty years or so ago. He says that in those days they were glad to get $7 a thousand feet for first-class hemlock at the mill, sawed and ready for use. Yellow pine sold for the same price. As late as 1889 good hemlock boards sold hereabout for $8 a thousand. And in those days an inch board was an inch thick and not thirteen sixteenths or seven eights of an inch. Fur- thermore, it was clear, knotless heart wood.&#13;
From the account books of a man now long dead, come these figures. In 1835 he bought 700 feet of plank for $7 and 873 feet of white pine boards for $7.86.&#13;
Five years later, in 1842, he bought 234 feet of white pine plank for $1.63, and in 1854 he purchased 2,200 feet of white pine boards for $22.50.&#13;
About 1855 prices began to move up a bit. The same account book shows purchases that&#13;
 &#13;
GOVERNOR PINCHOT OF PENNSYLVANIA&#13;
The prime mover in conservation, whose able work in Pennsylvania in recreating forests will serve the people of that state in the years to come&#13;
 &#13;
    &#13;
62&#13;
year of 1,838 feet of lumber for $27.57, and 339 feet of white pine boards for $5. The following year, 72 feet of white pine boards cost the purchaser $1.08. In 1860 the price of white pine was $16. a thousand. In 1870 clean white pine could be had for $25 a thousand. A man who built his home in 1896 told me that even then he got his hemlock bill lumber for $11 a thousand, good Georgia yellow pine for $16, and four-panel doors, one and one-fourth inches thick, for $1.50 each. An old lady who owned a farm, read me an item in her old account book, showing that in 1900 she bought 4,600 feet of rough boards for her barn at $14 a thousand. In 1915 we enlarged our own barn. Similar boards then cost $25 a thousand.&#13;
But it is not alone the cost of houses that will increase with this added cost of lumber. What about the things made of wood that are needed in the house? | have been talking with folks whose memories and account books give a pretty accurate idea of the cost of wooden articles twenty-five to forty years ago. One of these persons told me that when he was married he bought six excellent dining- room chairs for one dollar each. To-day such chairs would cost $3 to $5 apiece. His eight-foot oak extension-table cost $6.25.&#13;
Lewis Edwin Theiss&#13;
To-day it would cost $20 and upward— mostly upward. His kitchen cabinet cost $7. A similar one to-day would cost four to six times as much. In 1900 one could buy for twenty-five cents a pastry board that to- day would cost $1.25.&#13;
The old lady who told me the price of boards for her barn, has a bedroom set still in good condition that she bought forty-five years ago. She got the set complete for $25.&#13;
If you look at catalogues of furniture and wooden furnishings, you will see that rel- atively they have kept pace with the in- creasing price of lumber. Probably no one living, and no one to live for years to come, will see lumber grow cheaper. On the con- trary, the cost of lumber will mount steadily; and with that mounting cost, the price of wooden articles is also certain to climb up- ward.&#13;
But the cost of forest destruction does not end with high prices for dwellings and furnishings. We must have water, even before we have homes. Where present sup- plies are inadequate, we must pay higher taxes to secure larger supplies. And as the forests disappear, the water supply dwindles.&#13;
Too late we have arrived at a comprehen-&#13;
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SEEDLING TREES The lath roof gives much the same protection to the seedling trees as do the grown trees of a forest&#13;
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THE SAVENAC NURSERY, LOLO NATIONAL FOREST, MONTANA&#13;
sion of the fact that denuded water-sheds mean diminished supplies of water. Land like those six million acres of forest-desert in Pennsylvania is in no wise different from a tin roof. The water runs off of it as fast as it falls on it. A few hours after a storm, both a tin roof and a forest-desert are dry.&#13;
Nature’s plan of irrigating crops is a won- derful one. She sends copious rains in spring. The soft and spongy floor of the vast areas of wooded upland catch and retain billions of gallons of this water supply. Gradually the water drains into the springs, which in turn feed the brooks, while they swell the rivers. When this ample reservoir is filled, Nature turns off the rainfall, and the earth dries so that man can work it. But all summer long abundant water for agricultural needs con- tinues to pour out of the mountain reservoirs. And when this water has reached the sea, it is lifted through evaporation, carried inland in clouds by the winds, and once more dropped as rain on the mountains. That is Nature’s plan of irrigation. It is unbeatable. And so long as man does not upset Nature’s plan it works perfectly.&#13;
But what happens when the water-sheds are denuded of timber? The spring rains&#13;
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run off like water from the roof. Disastrous floods follow. Then, if the season happens to be a dry one, like last summer, come equally disastrous droughts. Last fall, we folks in Pennsylvania had a hard time to get water. Thousands of farmers had to haul water from distant sources for domestic use and for cattle. With farm animals needing several gallons of water apiece daily, this is a pretty serious matter. Under such conditions, it is next to impossible to supply all the water the animals need. That means, among other things, that cows fall off badly in milk pro- duction. Decreased milk flow means higher prices for milk and butter. And the people of this country are to-day paying more for their dairy products than they would have paid had it not been for the water failure last summer.&#13;
They are paying more for coal, too. Mines cannot be operated without abundant water. The railroads organized water trains to try to keep the mines in Pennsylvania supplied with water. Day and night these long trains of tank cars shuttled back and forth between the mines and the nearest sources of supply, to keep the mines open. Yet many mines closed, or worked part time, some because&#13;
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Lewis Edwin Theiss&#13;
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LOGS FOR A PAPER MILL The supplies of lumber required for the paper needs of the country are themselves huge, but are only a small part&#13;
of the grand total required by the country.&#13;
they couldn’t get water, and some because the railroads could not haul away the coal fast enough. Every train that hauled water meant just one less train that might have been hauling coal.&#13;
Cities and towns by the score in Pennsyl- vania were out of water, or so nearly out that water was allowed to be drawn from the mains only during brief, limited periods each day. We people of Pennsylvania faced the most serious situation with regard to coal and water that we have ever faced. We could not get coal in adequate quantities, even though we live near the mines. We are indeed paying the price for all our forest de- struction.&#13;
We might have foreseen—should have fore- seen—these things, had we listened to the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘‘Con- serve! Conserve! You are squandering your greatest heritage as a nation. Make straight the path of conservation!’’ The prophet was Gifford Pinchot, fighting Ballingerism, to save for the nation at large its priceless stands of timber. And we replied, as people tradition- ally do to prophets. “Crucify him!’ So Uncle Sam’s chief forester was retired to pri-&#13;
Much of our paper comes from Canada, where this picture was taken&#13;
vate life because he dared to tell the truth, and apparently buried for all time.&#13;
There are men, however, who, like Ban- quo’s ghost, will not down. Gifford Pinchot came home to Pennsylvania and bided his time. In due course came a Governor, William C. Sproul, who also loved the forests, and whose sense of fitness led him to appoint Gifford Pinchot as a member of the Penn- sylvania Forestry Commission, which bears much the same relation to the state forests that trustees do to an institution. Another appointee was Col. Henry W. Shoemaker, who is likewise an ardent conservationist. And both men were firm in the belief that public office is a public trust.&#13;
So they went into the state forests and found things not at all to their liking. They told the governor that the Forestry Depart- ment was mismanaged, that the office end of it was being run by politicians for politicians, while the field end was neglected, and the field force discouraged. And they told the newspaper men and others who would help noise the thing abroad. And the governor, like a sensible business man, ousted the head of the Department and drafted Gifford&#13;
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Pinchot for the place. So Pinchot had to make good.&#13;
lf you have ever seen that long, lean apostle of conversation, and watched his eye flash when he gets warmed to a thing, you will know how he went about his work. He took the job, with one proviso—that he'was to be given a free hand. That was promised him. His first move was to find a proper lieutenant and an assistant after his own heart on whom he could rely. He picked out Major Robert Y. Stuart, and had him appointed Deputy Commissioner of Forestry. Then, with Stu- art in the Forest Commissioner’s ‘chair, Pinchot went into the woods.&#13;
His field force received him with interest, but reserved decision. They knew the old game of politics too well. They had seen re- formers before. But they soon found that Gifford Pinchot was no swivel-chair forester. No ranger in his force could out-hike him, out- climb him, out-fish him, knew more of wood- craft, or was better able to care for himself in the wilds. And, so far as he was personally concerned, he dropped the title, Commissioner of Forestry. He called himself the Chief Forester, and he asked the newspapers to do&#13;
Planting Trees to Serve Our Children&#13;
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65&#13;
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likewise. And chief forester he became, in truth as well as in name. That meant volumes. It meant that he was one of the force, and not some distant and loftly per- sonage sitting on a golden oak throne at Harrisburg.&#13;
Once the men became convinced of his sincerity, how they did rally about him. These foresters and rangers were men who worked in the forest—often for less pay than they could have earned elsewhere—because they loved the forest, loved it passionately. All they wanted was a chance to do their best for the forest. And now they had it. They felt the change. It wasn’t necessary for Pinchot to tell them that the purpose of the organization was solely to work for the forests, or to assure them that each man would get a square deal. Indeed, one of Pinchot’s early acts was to change the regu- lations so as to make it practical for men to work up in the service, by permitting them to get their technical training right in the forest itself, doing the technical work under the guidance of the trained foresters and studying during winter months in the forester’s office, instead of having to go to expensive, technical&#13;
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U.S. Forest Service&#13;
BAD LUMBERING IN CALIFORNIA Careless, harmful methods in this forest of sugar pine and white fir, have left the land&#13;
in bad condition where Nature will find it all but impossible to reclaim it as a forest&#13;
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schools to get the training. That made it possible for even the poorest laborer to get the education necessary to qualify for pro- motion. Once the men understood these things, how they did work. Forest roads, improvement cuttings, tree plantings, fire trails, were rushed along as they never had been before. And the workers became verit- able hawks in guarding their forests from fire.&#13;
One day | was deep in the forest with one of the rangers. A great, strapping fellow he was, rough outside like a shaggy hickory, but with a heart like a child’s, and the courage of a lion.&#13;
“You rangers like the new chief pretty well, don’t your” | asked.&#13;
My guide, who did not know that | knew Pinchot, stopped short and looked me square in the face. “Like him!” he exclaimed, “Why, we—we love him!”&#13;
Words like that do not come from rugged woodsmen except under unusual emotion. The expression itself was its own best guaran- tee of truth.&#13;
While Gifford Pinchot was getting ac- quainted with the million and a quarter acres of state forest, and winning the loyal codpera- tion of his fellow forest workers, he was also planning a constructive programme. He believed that the state shouid own outright many million acres of forest land, with 5,000,000 as the minimum. Much of the land he wanted to secure was located on mountain slopes and high plateaus above the headwaters of streams, where timber stands directly affected the stream flow. And most of this land was denuded of timber. Pinchot proposed that the state should buy this land and reforest it. Much of the land could never reforest itself, since no seed trees had been left when the timber was cut. Private owners would never incur the expense of reforesting.&#13;
Practically all of this denuded land could be had at the same low price for which the state’s present holdings have been purchased —an average price of $2.27 an acre. Pinchot asked the state for $25,000,000 to buy and improve this land. Only so, he said, would Pennsylvania ever again produce lumber in quantity. And almost more important than the timber was the fact that reforestation would insure abundant water supplies for all time to come. That means water-power as well as water to drink.&#13;
 &#13;
Lewis Edwin Theiss&#13;
The legislature would not vote the money, There was no pap to be had in the reorganized Forestry Department, and the only jobs available to political heelers were the patrol- ling of rattlesnake-infested forests, the wield- ing of pick and shovel for ten hovis a day, or fighting forest fires at a few cents an hour, And ward heelers are not looking for such jobs,&#13;
With characteristic directness, Pinchot took the matter to the people. Day after day, night after night, he traveled about the Keystone State, speaking to audiences big and little, wherever he could get them to- gether. No politician working for personal aggrandizement could have labored harder to win a campaign than Pinchot worked to save the forests of Pennsylvania.&#13;
He told his hearers that they were already paying every year in freight charges on lum- ber brought into Pennsylvania as much as the entire sum he asked for—$25,000,000; that they would continue to pay this enor- mous sum year after year, as long as they had to buy their lumber abroad; and that when the Southern pine was gone and all our lumber came from the far West, the yearly freight tax would be enormously heavier. The only hope of ever reducing that tax lay in the re- forestation of Pennsylvania’s forests.&#13;
He showed that this was the best business proposition imaginable. During the years that Pennsylvania has been a forest owner, the state forest lands, bought at an average price of $2.27 an acre, have reached a value conservatively estimated at $10.88 an acre. With five million acres of forest land, the state would have what was virtually an edu- cational endowment. The forest land it is proposed to buy is producing wood very, very slowly. If cared for, this land should in ten to fifteen years be producing half a cord of wood an acre each year, and in forty years it should reach full production, with at least a cord of wood to the acre. A very conserva- tive estimate places the annual net income per acre at six dollars, when these lands are in full production. The probabilities are that&#13;
it will be much greater. Even at six dollars&#13;
an acre, the net income from 5,000,000 acres ;&#13;
would be $30,000,000—or more than 100 per cent. interest annually on the sum needed to buy the land.&#13;
Under the state law, all income from the state forests goes to educational purposes. During the 1920 school year, the Pennsylvania&#13;
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Planting Trees to Serve Our&#13;
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Children 67&#13;
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PINE CREEK GORGE, LYCOMING&#13;
Showing what destructive lumbering and fires will do to the country. quickly into the streams with the result that damaging floods are caused and the rich surface soil is washed away&#13;
state government spent nearly fourteen and a half million dollars on her educational institu- tions. For the 1921 school year her school expenditures were $15,804,282.71. That is a heavy tax on the people of the state, for it is additional to the local school taxes. With 5,000,000 acres of state forest lands in full production, Pennsylvania would enjoy that income of $30,000,000 not for one year alone, but year after year in perpetuity. In effect, to spend $25,000,000 now means to endow the state’s educational institutions forever. And it also means the saving of the $25,000,000 annual freight charges paid on lumber brought from far distant sources. Now it happened, as it had happened cen- turies before in the case of another fighter. for the public good, that the common people heard him gladly. The sound of many voices began to percolate to the legislative halls at Harrisburg. The legislature voted the unprecedented sum of $1,000,000 for forest protection, to be spent in taking care of the forests already owned by the state. And there is little doubt that the state will vote to bond itself for $25,000,000, to carry out the suggested programme for forest improvement.&#13;
                                                     &#13;
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COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA&#13;
The denuded slopes drain the water&#13;
   &#13;
But there were some things that the Chief Forester could do in the matter of reforesta- tion without appealing to the legislature. He enlarged the state’s forest nurseries and created new ones. “Grow seedlings, millions and millions of them,’ he told his foresters, “and see that they are planted. Put them out in the state forests and give them to the farmers to plant in their wood-lots. Every seedling that goes into the earth means a saving to the people of Pennsylvania.” Again a howl went up. The state was spend- ing money to help individuals.&#13;
I’ll show you how much there was in that cry. We have some thirty or forty acres of woodlot on our farm. Each spring I secure from the state a quantity of these seedlings. | have to pay for the handling and transpor- tation, and | see that they get into the ground. We are clearing out brush and worthless trees and brambles, year after year, and planting forest trees in their place. It is little good this labor will ever do me. Forty or fifty years from now, if my trees succeed in getting past the gauntlet of blight and weevils and borers, there will be a crop of timber to har- vest. I shall probably not see it cut. But&#13;
  &#13;
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68 Lewis Edwin Theiss&#13;
the timber will be here in Pennsylvania, and land now worth little will have been restored to the only use it was ever fit for. With good management, it ought thereafter to go on producing lumber forever. And my neigh- bors in Pennsylvania or New York or New England who want lumber, won't have to pay $20 a thousand feet freight on it. —&#13;
There is no particular pleasure in planting forest seedlings. It is a back-breaking job, and one has to wrestle with rocks and bram- bles and fallen trees, and other obstacles. And when one knows that the work will be of little benefit to one personally, there is small incentive to do it. But somehow, the influ- ence of that energetic Chief Forester sets people to doing things. You just feel that if he is doing so much, you’re a piker if you can’t doa little yourself. And one by one the farmers of Pennsylvania are adopting the plan of making annual plantings of forest seedlings.&#13;
When first those seedlings were offered, two or three years ago, the state couldn’t get rid of its supply. But see what a change has taken place. Last fall, when | applied for some white pines for next spring’s planting, | was informed that the 3,000,000 white pine seedlings available for the year’s distribution&#13;
A STATE OWNED FOREST&#13;
were already allotted. So! had to take other ¥ varieties.&#13;
After all, there is a tremendous lot of sense * in the common people. The legislature didn’t know statesmanship when it saw it, but the people of Pennsylvania as a whole did. They knew a Daniel come to judgment when they saw him. And when the opportunity came, they elected the Chief Forester to be the Chief Executive of the state. Major Stuart was promptly moved up to be commissioner of Forestry. Hence intelligent and _far- sighted conduct of the state forests is assured,&#13;
Although Gifford Pinchot has now become Governor Pinchot, he will always be Pinchot, the forester. For that is where his heart is— in the forest. With his influence as governor behind the matter of a bond issue, there is little doubt that the state will vote for it and begin the restoration of its forests on a large scale.&#13;
We, ourselves must continue to pay the price of our folly in allowing our forests to be de-&#13;
stroyed. Our children will pay more heavily than we have paid. But our children’s children, thanks to the statesmanship of&#13;
Gifford Pinchot and his fellow fighters for forest reform, will have an easier time of it.&#13;
IN PENNSYLVANIA&#13;
This timber is protected from fire and is properly handled by a corps of&#13;
foresters.&#13;
*&#13;
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The trees in this lot are numbered in order to facilitate study&#13;
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THE FARTHEST-AWAY MAN&#13;
the a Life in the Mountains of Southern China.&#13;
How | Decided While I Life Among the Tai Ya.&#13;
The following article is the&#13;
hill and do not study medicine.” Apparently he had not yet acquired his sophomore year dreams and felt that the universe was polluted However, | proceeded on my quest, receiving, a few days later, the hospita- ble reception tendered us verdant freshmen by the learned sophomore class enticing us, by running from us into a small corridor in the col-&#13;
hey was in College to Leave the United States.&#13;
they Why Self Imposed Banishment is in This Case Very Much Worth While&#13;
ame,&#13;
the = By CHARLES E. PARK uart |&#13;
oner | = For a year or more THE WorLp’s Work bas been trying to get the stories of the men who have fare left civilization behind and have gone to the little known lands that seem to us stay-at-homes to be the ired, ‘ farthest away. Our reason for trying to get these stories was simply to let our readers know why come | these men have gone to the lands in which they live, and why they stay. chot, | first of several that have been secured —TueE Epirors. is— -rnor O DEVOTE one’s self to something re is higher than self, this is the answer t and | of the ages to those who would find&#13;
large the source of immortal energy and _ with doctors.&#13;
enjoyment.”&#13;
price The above ideal prompted me to prepare e de- for medical missionary service in the Orient, avily years before my acquaintance with the above lren’s quotation, and | find after nine years experi-&#13;
ip of ence that it applies satisfactorily in my life regardless of geographical location.&#13;
A country swain, returning from the village brass band practice, | seated myself on the veranda at my old home in Washington County, Pa., and as I finished my cigar, made the decision which placed me in a position to devote myself to a cause greater than self and pursue happiness in a broader sphere of ser- vice while so doing.&#13;
This cherished ideal also caused me to dis- pose of my personal effects, which in turn broke up our family home at “Park Place,” leaving me free to enter Wooster University for preparatory education necessary to pursue my medical course.&#13;
What fun we had, during that medical course. As | approached the vicinity of the University of Pittsburgh my chosen medical institution, | interrogated an unknown pedes- trian as to the exact location of the medical plant. He replied, first giving the desired information, then asking, “are you entering medical work?” When I stated that I had come for that very purpose, he granted me a bit of voluntary information regarding the medical fraternity, to which he boasted he belonged, saying to me, “Take my advice, turn right straight around, go back down this&#13;
rs for * [ it.&#13;
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lege building where we, who knew each other so slightly that we chalk-marked our coats to avoid fighting our own classmates, could be seen standing around in the large corridor be- low; and when they had us all ready to make our final charge and get them, they pelted us with paper bags filled with flour until we couldn’t see our way out, then cooled us off by turning the fire hose on us. These two kind- nesses, plus the horrors of the dissecting room, where | was inspired by the skillful operations of Prof. “ Bill” on the cadaver to write the following lines in memory of the victim:&#13;
He died that we might know ourselves And ease some sufferer’s pain. “Bill,” cut him up, the reckless “mutt,” And he'll ne’er be whole again.&#13;
We had the doleful lectures of our brilliant professors of medicine. After an hour of ora- tory and wild beating of the air, explaining to us the etiology, symptomology, and morphol- ogy of the disease chosen for that day’s dis- course, letting us in on the secrets of examina- tion and diagnosis, until we could feel our heads bulging with practical knowledge and im- agined ourselves regular ‘“‘Sherlock Holmeses”’ in medical circles, they would let us down hard, as they gathered up the precious bun- dle of notes always carried by professors and&#13;
  &#13;
Charles&#13;
70&#13;
the busy men would prepare to make their exit, they would say, “at present we know prac- tically nothing as to the cause of the disease and there are no drugs that give any particular effect on its course, therefore we must simply treat the symptoms as they arise.’”’ What an inspiration! Again, we would meet in the surgical clinic, where we would be given every symptom the patients history had ever re- vealed from A to Z, and after each one had been given a chance to guess what the trouble was, our kind surgeon would turn to the grateful patient saying, “ The Almighty alone knows what ails you. We must do an ex- ploratory operation and find the cause.”” In the very face of all these discouragements | found it possible to keep up enough enthusi- asm in my work and to follow the curriculum laid down in a manner satisfactory enough for the faculty to grant me a diploma. To demonstrate this extensive catalogue of acquired knowledge and, at the same time, endeavoring to promote the cause of Christ some place where the need was great, | offered my service, making application to the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions for work in Siam. | had been kept informed reg- ularly of the needs in Siam by a girl teaching in that country whom | hadmetat the University of Wooster. In fact, to cut short a long story of good reading, | had fallen in love with this missionary to such an extent that during the short period of six years that we were engaged, | offered to meet her anywhere on _ this terrestrial ball that she should name, to begin our voyage on life’s matrimonial sea. Being accepted by the Mission Board and assigned to Siam, my fiancée named Canton, China, as a place for our meeting. I will not describe the scene on the steamer Mongolia in Hong- kong harbor, although it was very interesting to passengers who knew that we were to meet there. Suffice it to say that we had not seen each other for three years, during which one had been in medical school and the other teaching in a mission school, separated by half the world’s circumference, a plan not to be suggested by us for others to follow. Our honeymoon was spent in Hongkong, Singa- pore, Bangkok, and Chieng Mai, Siam, and included six weeks of travel on steamers and river boats between these cities.&#13;
In Prae, Siam, | practised medicine. I had five natives to assist in selling drugs in the dis- pensary, and help with the operations and car-&#13;
E. Park&#13;
ing for the patients in the hospital. We had a motorcycle, a piano, and teak wood furni- ture in our home. All the necessary house- hold assistants to do the housework allowed Mrs. Park time to teach in the Girls’ School. This was pleasant enough, but there came a call from Chieng Rung, China, our newest mission station, for ‘some one to fill in in an ‘emergency. This work had only been opened two years. We offered to go and the mission granted our transfer. We sold our luxuries in the form of heavy furniture, piano, and motorcycle. During the last three years we have been living a gypsy life. First we stopped in Chieng Rung for two years dur- ing which we were busy building houses for future missionary residences, teaching the Bible, training assistants, and introducing medicine and surgery, with the help. of one faithful hospital assistant from Chieng Mai, Siam. Since leaving Prae, Siam, we have seen very few white people. This isolation from fellow countrymen affects some much more than others. It is trying for missionary children. Adults can stand it quite well un- less there is continued sickness. During the early part of our term at Chieng Rung | acquired an ugly finger-infection, which re- sisted treatment, affecting my whole system to such a degree that resignation was made to the Board, who accepted it with the under- standing that | remain at my post until some one came from America to relieve me. While treating myself, there being no opportunity for consultation, as the nearest doctor was fif- teen days from me, there developed a work in Yuankiang, China, among the Tai Ya people, which grew so rapidly and encouragingly (a thousand converts in the first few months of the movement) that the Park family decided we would rather risk our lives in this interest- ing mass movement than leave for home. Consequently we canceled our resignation, accepting the responsibility of caring for our own bodily ailments and trusting God for the future.&#13;
How far away from home are we in our pres- ent location? Pittsburgh, Pa., is practically&#13;
ame&#13;
on the other side of the world from us in |&#13;
Yuankiang, China, but we are farther south, being on the same degree of latitude as the Hawaiian Islands and the West Indies. The quickest answer we could expect from Pitts- burgh by mail would require three months. Pittsburgh, Pa., to San Francisco, four days;&#13;
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had rni- use- wed ‘ool. ne a west nan -ned sion uries and S we we dur- ; for the icing one Mai, have ation nuch nary 1 un- ¢ the ing | h re- /stem made nder- some While ty for is fif- ork in eople, zingly ths of &gt;cided rerest- home.&#13;
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The Farthest-Away Man&#13;
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DR. PARK’S FAMILY LEAVING PRAE, SIAM&#13;
This picture shows Mrs. Park with her children and a companion starting on the long journey to Chieng Rung Park is seated in the chair that is being carried by the four natives. The house in the background is built of teakwood&#13;
San Francisco to Hongkong, thirty days; Hongkong to Bangkok, eleven days; Bangkok to Prae, Siam, two days; Prae to Chieng Rung, twenty-six days; Chieng Rung, China, to Yuankiang, China, our present address, seven- teen days; making a total of ninety days actual travel, using the above mentioned route through necessity, not choice; not making allowance for time lost in steamship and rail- way connections, mule caravans, native car- riers and chair bearers being bargained for and reasoned with. Caravans composed of ponies and men are often very difficult to get into action and much valuable time is lost in argument as to the shortest and best route. They are often more obstreperous than the much abused Ford car. In both cases, it is found beneficial to have a crank if you are not fortunate enough to have a self-starter. Studying the Oriental mind along with their language, one soon discovers that he has in hand a preposterous proposition. Humanly speaking it is a psychological impossibility for the foreigner to fathom the workings of the Oriental mind. _ What repays “The Man Farthest Away” lor having left his home, friends, and coun- try, to live in the other man’s land, is the desire to assist in improving the inhabitants thereof by giving them what is necessary to&#13;
Mrs.&#13;
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rise above their evil spirit worship, live honest Christian lives, ease their physical suffering, treat.their curable diseases, and at the same time educate them to carry on this work for themselves in the future.&#13;
In order for “The Man Farthest Away” to enjoy this task, he must enjoy and appreciate the study of human nature. He who dis- likes this most interesting study and its daily application, soon dislikes the environment in which he is located. Censuring the native because of the existing condition of affairs, and not caring to assist in remedying them, he becomes the most miserable of all men. No man can fail to be interested who travels through this tropical belt beautified by its mountains, their rushing streams of water making continuous irrigation for the terraced rice fields, where crops may be grown any month of the year. These same mountains give us a comfortable change of climate during the hot season of the year, a climb of four to five hours being necessary to reach this eleva- tion. The combination of temperatures gives us the fruits and vegetables of both tropical and temperate zones; he who sees this and misses the thronging thousands of interesting human beings, studying not their language, mode of living, ways of travel, government, tribal customs, likes and dislikes, is allowing&#13;
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72&#13;
himself to become one-sided. He is acquiring a flat wheel and will soon long for “the flesh pots of Egypt” and pine for his native land and its civilization.&#13;
To prove the genuineness of the call and to demonstrate the view-point of “The Man Farthest Away,” let us leave the splendor and beauty of the mountain trail decked with its flowering orchids, stately pine trees, and clear, sparkling moun- tain streams, with their banks covered with flowers and ferns; consider, instead, the interesting study of the different types of people we find on the plains, with whom we become acquainted through the Tai lan- guage.&#13;
Arriving at Yuan- kiang, our present ad- dress, we found a small, sturdy, brown- skinned, black-eyed, straight - black-haired, flat-nosed people, with manners more pleas- ing than any Tai we have hitherto met and more hospitable than the Southern tribes.&#13;
The Tai Ya are a sub-division of the great Tai family, of which there are nu- merous tribes living along the valleys among the vast moun- tain ranges of southern China, French Indo- China, Burma, and Siam. So far, I have met only the Tai (Siamese), Tai Yuan, Tai Kuhn, Tai Li, Tai Nua, Tai Sai, Tai Ya, Tai La, Tai Kah, Tai Wao, and Tai Chung, all of these differing slightly in dialect, dress, customs, intellect, education, and religion; but there runs through the whole family the basis of the pure Tai language, joining the various fragments of this wonderful family, who have been separated for years, into one distinct Tai people.&#13;
What difference does it make. if these Tai divisions have merged into various other countries and fallen under their governments,&#13;
NATIVE&#13;
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HOSPITAL ASSISTANTS These men were employed by Dr. Park at the hospital in Prae, Siam&#13;
Charles E. Park&#13;
if they can only be gathered together and joined to The One Great Kingdom, becoming Knighted Sons of God.&#13;
All Tai Ya houses are built of sun-dried brick. They are dark because of the abnor- mally small windows or the lack of them. They are ill smelling because the house serves as home for the farmer and barn for his cattle, pigs, buffalo, ducks, geese, and chickens. The houses are regular smoke-houses also, for there are no chimneys built for the open fire- places, which are used continuously summer and winter, except doors and windows and occasionally a small hole about the size of a hat, left in the roof above the fire- place. I have seen bed-rooms with no other opening than the door-way—dark, dingy holes I would not desire for a stable. Roofs, first and second floors, and walls of the house are made of old mother earth. The roof is built by placing heavy poles across from one wall to the other, then covering these with smaller poles crosswise with the first; these in turn being covered with a layer of bushes and brush, then a layer of rice straw, and lastly a thick layer of clay, which is pounded and tramped during dry and wet weather until it turns water quite decently, acts as a place for the family to sleep during the hot season, a place to dry their crops and meats, and a general visiting place for the villagers, for their homes are so closely packed together one can step from one to the other without any exer- tion.&#13;
Having no other place to live than the na- tive mud house, and not desiring to die off in their stuffy homes, we went to the other ex- treme and built ourselves a loosely connected bamboo house of two rooms. The frame, floor,&#13;
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walls, and stairs were made of flimsy bamboo and the roof was made of rice straw. It is just an imitation house, being at present almost eaten up by small insects which appear to be perfectly famished in their attempt to devour it before we can get any place better provided. We have not lacked fresh air. The shack has seen us through a hot season that we couldn’t have stood confined to the small hot quarters of the mud house. Our doors are made conspicuous by their absence. The amount of bamboo would not permit us to plan for windows, but we had enough to allow the openings for them. The walls have shrunken until we scarcely need the win- dows, there being large cracks, allowing us to see Our visitors coming in almost any direc- tion. The heavy winds cause the shack to sWay on its posts until it resembles a bird’s nest, almost always stopping our clock (a timepiece with a pen- dulum). The roof&#13;
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The Farthest-Away Man&#13;
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hundred or more have been present at each&#13;
meeting. Our forces are inadequate to cope with the rapid increase in numbers. They come to us begging us to accompany them to their villages and free them of their demons. The missionary has all he can do to keep up with the growth and has no time to visit and tour the non-Christian villages. The whole field seems like one big family. It develops beyond our fondest hopes. There is noth- ing of a discouraging character worthy of mention. There is no shouting, but the re- ligious influence spreads. Villages from another province have just come to request us to send elders and evangelists to free them of their spirits and teach them of Christianity. In the past these spirits were their masters. At wed- dings, funerals, har- vest feasts, in fact any occasion of impor- tance, these spirits were propitiated and fed with the best the land could offer.&#13;
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leaks during heavy rains, but many of the mud roofs also leak and we are allowed the privilege of clear instead of muddy water to soak in. However, we are glad to report that rooms for us above the new Chapel are nearing completion.&#13;
The Tai in this locality present the most in- teresting and inspiring scene we have ever witnessed. A_ revival which grows with amazing rapidity following the exact course one would expect the Gospel to take among people who have groped in darkness for cen- turies. There are fourteen hundred converts to Christianity in this valley where a few years ago there were none. Until a few Sab-&#13;
baths ago religious services were held under the largest trees in the central village, through necessity, not choice, there being no houses that would accommodate the crowds. Three&#13;
“TAI YUAN” FATHER AND “TAI LU’’ MOTHER With their child. The man was Dr. Park’s dispensary assistant at Chieng Rung Hospital&#13;
Home brew flowed freely and women as well as men vied with each other as to the amount that could be imbibed during one feast, sometimes even going so far as to anoint each other with the liquor. At present when these feasts are given there are no intoxicants used. A modest feast is given instead of the old expensive debauchery and in all customs they are gradually giving way to our Chris- tian methods. They are happy, loyal, in- dustrious, and, although they are illiterate, they are not nearly as ignorant as one would expect. They present wonderful possibili- ties. They respond readily to Gospel teach- ing, which results in a radical change in their habits of living. There is very little quarreling and little or no thieving or murder- ing. The isolation of the Tai Ya in China,&#13;
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74 Charles&#13;
caused by the rugged mountains round about us and many bad rapids in the Red River, has its benefits as well as its inconveniences. During four months of clinic work here, | have not seen or heard of one single case of venereal disease and upon inquiry have been told by reliable citizens that the condition does not exist among the Tai Ya people. There are no saloons or houses of ill fame.&#13;
Women’s wearing apparel is modest and handsome, considering their homes and en- vironment, and al- though they work hard they always look neat, wearing their silver buttons, trim- mings, ear rings, finger rings, and bracelets at all times. They use elaborate trimmings in colors, sometimes as many as fifteen colors and shades of silk thread are used in pip- ing and many pat- terns of very fine cross stitching are used on their skirts, jackets, aprons, and head dresses. A picture fails to do justice to this costume because of the inability to repro- duce the color scheme. The Tai Ya woman's&#13;
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glory is not in her icicle&#13;
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E. Park&#13;
ago the men wore the Chinese queue, but ever since that time the head has been shaved. Children of four or five years of age dress much the same as their adult brothers and sisters.&#13;
The Tai Ya are under the government of Yunnan Province, China, and must assist in supporting it. They are imposed upon in many instances by the petty Chinese officials to whom they must pay taxes. The Tai have village head men, and a higher Tai offi- cial who intercedes for them when there are questions to settle re- garding payment of dues, but they have no representation in the affairs of the country they live in. Bandits of the ex-soldier type, in bands of two or three hundred, con- tinue to prey upon the merchants, farmers, and missionaries wherever there is suffi- cient money and mer- chandise to lure them. Our mail has been held up and parcel post packages taken. Freight sent by pack animals has been tam- pereu with. Yunnan é Province is at present ie 2) _~=sima precarious condi-&#13;
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hair. Her hair is completely covered by black heavy cloth bound tightly in sucha manner that it holds the hairfirmly. Often the hair is not combed for from three to ten days.&#13;
Men wear blue home-spun cotton goods with probably one silver ring, a silver brace- let, and a good substantial hat which acts asa sunshade, as well as an umbrella. They wear trousers of much the same cut as the Chinese. Their jackets are variable, but usually but- toned across the chest in a double breasted effect. Leggings, head dress, and belt may have a small bit of embroidery on them but, as usual, the women lead in dress. Ten years&#13;
In front of their mud&#13;
A “TAI LU” FAMILY&#13;
of the structures in the interior of Yunnan&#13;
tion because of the continued change of high officials both lo- cally and in China proper. We realize that we are, as it were, beside a sleeping volcano that may become active any moment. We, of course, are hop- ing that the new régime in Peking will aid us.&#13;
The former religion of the Tai Ya was purely spirit worship, which was carried on incessantly. There were the family, house, water, fire, disease, river, tree, and many, many others the names of which | will not attempt to give, spirits which had to be cared for in their various complex ways, just as the spirit medium found necessary, this me-&#13;
house, which is typical&#13;
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dium or spirit doctor being able to converse with the particular spirit offended and obtain first-hand information on any question of importance.&#13;
When anything serious happened to per- sons, domestic animals or rice crops, the village medium was called in to determine what had offended the particular spirit in question and what must be done to alleviate the distress. Whatever was decided upon by the medium must be right, for no one can contradict the spirit doctor; there- fore, directions given must be followed out to the minutest detail. If the trouble was soon ended, the evil spirit was supposed to have been appeased by the offering made, but if the condition persisted or increased in severity, serious mistakes must have been made in carrying out directions and the spirit was supposed to have been doubly of- fended. The medium would come again and another attempt would be made to rout the demon or to appeal to its weaker personality and decoy it away by chanting to it, beating a gong to frighten it, anything, in fact, that entered into the mind of the medium as a good thing to try. The most common demand made, for any and all kinds of grievance, was that of animal life; from that of the smallest chicken to the best oxen or water buffalo owned by the afflicted, according to the emergency or demand of the occasion, and in every case where these killings occurred, the medium received one leg of whatever the sacrifice called for, as payment for service rendered. These mediums were called to officiate in almost all cases of sickness, mar- riage, death, and burial. The whole idea of&#13;
religion was connected with this abominable and benighted custom of spirit worship. Medical work naturally was taken care of by the spirit medium. Our commonest drugs were unknown and unused, and there were&#13;
The Farthest-Away Man 75&#13;
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JOHN AND WILMA PARK Children of the author of this article. It is the chil- dren of the “farthest away man,” according to Dr. Park, who find the life in distant lands most difficult&#13;
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no locally manufactured articles such as the Chinese carry—tiger teeth, desiccated bear’s gall, et cetera. The only thing used to relieve pain was a crude form of opium bought from the Chinese to dope the sufferer while nature did the rest.&#13;
Babies are born more nearly like little wild animals than | have ever seen or heard of anywhere. No doctor, no medicine, no mid- wife; seldom much if any attention from the immediate family; left alone in a dark, dingy, dirty, back room of her mud home, the mother gives birth to her young, cutting the umbilical cord with a sharp splinter of wood prepared for that pur- pose, and tying it with a bit of cotton string, and attending to her- self and the infant, until the fond hus- band at the appropri- ate time appears on the scene, condescend- ingly agreeing to bathe and dress his offspring. Sanitation is a word not spoken of in this department of medi- cing and surgery, as it is practised in the Tai Ya household. However, with all this evidence on the wrong side of the balance, regarding the proper care out-lined by us civilized earth beings for the obstetrical case at home, | venture to say that there are proportionately less cases of pelvic disorder here than in most of our highly civilized countries. This, of course, being attributed more to the robust condition of the female, which is brought about by her entering into the outdoor manual labor in assisting to harvest the rice crop, instead of whiling away her time attending to a spick and span new home.&#13;
Infants do well enough during their first year, but they are allowed to nurse as many years as they care to, which causes much trouble in their digestive system, which is aggravated also by the poor quality of food given them in their second and third years. This solid food—uncooked fruit picked green,&#13;
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76 Charles raw meat with other indigestible delicacies— being handed to it to try, and allowing the child to feed the mosquitoes with its precious blood, lead usually to a course of colic, chills and fever, which either kill the child outright, or leave him victor in the war of the survival of the fittest. No milk is used in this country, although they have the cows, buffaloes, and goats. Until the babies are better fed there must continue a high rate of infant mortality.&#13;
A unique custom, observed here is that of an annual May Day festival, or picnic, where the young folks of the community turn out for a gala day under the spreading shade trees at a convenient spot on the bank of the Red River. Smoking tobacco and sweets are for sale. The younger generation of unat- tached femininity parade in groups, adorned in their finest, brightly colored clothes, decor- ated with buttons, beads, finger rings, ear rings, bracelets, necklaces, and chatelaines all made of silver. The awkward young men are also arrayed in their finest garb, but this is comparatively modest. The girls bring food for the occasion. The men bring home- made liquor. The uppermost idea in the minds of those congregated is match-making, which may or may not result in marriage. The popular couples separate themselves from the crowd and, as they journey toward the home of the young woman, they partake of their May Day feast. The visit is continued after their arrival at the home of the girls’ parents and may continue long into the wee small hours of the night, in a way not ap- proved of in respectable society nor by our Tai Ya Christians, although to the non- Christian there is no moral guilt, as there is no law with them against the practice of adultery by unmarried people.&#13;
This naturally brings up the question of matrimony. The wife is bought with cold cash in addition to whatever silver ear rings, bracelets, buttons, et cetera, that the young man may wish to lavish on his lady friend. The young men think of the girls of marriage- able age in terms of dollars and cents, one young fellow being heard to say, as he in- spected a photograph of several young ladies snapped by the missionary, “Oh, that one can be bought for thirty dollars. I'll have her.”” The match is quite often made by the parents years before the adolescence of the contracting parties. When the popular age for their marriage has arrived, arrangements are&#13;
E. Park&#13;
renewed by consulting the spirit medium as to the proper date for the beginning of festivities. On the selected day the husband- to-be gives a chicken, a duck, a goose, a pig, a dog, some rice and some liquor as a peace offering to the spirits. The animals are killed and, after the guests have put in their appearance, a big outdoor feast is given. When evening comes they all repair to the home of the groom where two elderly men and two elderly women with two girls are com- missioned to go and invite the bride to the wedding. Acting in the capacity of escorts they remain at the bride’s home until her six attendants, chosen in like manner, are ready to escort her to her wedding. Arriving at the home of the groom, a late indulgence of food and “fire water,” followed by merrymaking among the intoxicated guests, solemnizes the wedding and the couple are considered mar- ried. At earliest cock crow of the morning, the bride, in order to obey the orthodox rule of etiquette, must scamper back to her home, where she remains until the next night, when her husband makes another feast in her honor. This second feast is given on a more moderate scale, only one pig being killed, but a great deal of liquor goes with it. This second feast is given at the home of the bride’s parents; she accompanies her husband to his home, but leaves again the next morning as before. The third day the husband entertains at the home of the bride’s parents, taking a duck, a chicken, and a quart of whisky for the wife and parents. Again the wife is escorted home, with the husband remaining the one night. This feasting and visiting is continued at frequent intervals, numerous times during the first year or until the wife becomes a mother, giving birth to her child at the husband’s home, after which she makes her home with him. Should the child be born at the home of the bride’s parents, it is under- stood to be illegitimate and the husband need not recognize her as his wife. This, we are sorry to relate, happens quite often because the customs of the land do not restrict adul- tery among newly married and single people, free love being practised without penalty until children are born to married people. The husband is desirous of having male children to inherit his rice field and attend his family spirit after death.&#13;
Three gun shots announce a death. The beating of a gong summons friends to come&#13;
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The Farthest-Away Man 77&#13;
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A GROUP OF “TAI YA” This gathering is of converted natives whose meeting place was under the large fig tree shown in the picture&#13;
and remain with the family the first night. At daybreak a duck and a chicken are killed and cooked with the rice, which is eaten by the assembled friends, with the exception of one dishful that is offered to the spirits. The women of the village are summoned to pre- pare rice ready for cooking, this invitation being made by a relative distinguished as a mourner by binding a white cloth about his head, white being used in place of black for mourning. This accomplished, a pig is killed, then a beef, later a buffalo, the number being limited only by the wealth or poverty in the afflicted family. Children of the de- ceased, as well as women relatives, wear white jackets the day of the funeral. A small piece of white cotton is given each guest as a sou- venir of the occasion. The coffin is made after the fashion used by the Chinese. The corpse is followed by the band of musicians already mentioned and is accompanied by women friends and relatives, who express their sorrow by the continuous wailing and weeping, while men friends not assisting in the capacity of pallbearers carry festoons of gaily colored paper. The spirit medium figures prominently in all the proceedings and is depended upon to call back the family spirit to the home, follow- ing the burial of any member of the family&#13;
group. This is accomplished by the upturning of one of the stools used as chairs by the family and placing in it the head of a recently killed dog, a bow] of water, and a bowl of rice. This offering is carried out in front of the home. While the medium endeavors to call back the spirit to care for the others in the family, the home must be kept absolutely quiet, or the weird vocal tones produced, the drum beaten and the spirit entreated to return, may all be in vain. Anything which may happen later is naturally blamed on some member of the family failing to keep absolutely quiet at the psychological moment.&#13;
The study of these interesting people, whom | have introduced to you only slightly, by poorly outlining a glimpse of their customs, together with the opportunity for service in the Lord’s work, carrving out His last com- mand to “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations,’ repays “ The Man Farthest Away”’ for all his isolation, inconveniences, and hard- ships of being away from friends and loved ones.&#13;
I am a missionary, heart and soul. God had only one Son and He was a missionary and a physician. A poor, poor imitation of Him | am or wish to be. In His service | hope to live, in it | wish to die.&#13;
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AUGUSTUS THOMAS—FROM “MIZZOURA”™&#13;
By W. A. DAVENPORT&#13;
OU will find Augustus Thomas sitting at a table-desk in an old- fashioned office in West Forty-fifth Street, New York, applying Mis- souri politics to the American&#13;
theatre. It is quite conceivable that the man who knows nothing of Mr. Thomas and his methods might, after one look at the outer office, scurry down the carpeted stairs (there is no elevator) to the street, convinced that whoever told him that so important a person as the Executive Chairman of the Producing Managers’ Association held forth in such un- impressive headquarters was a gusher of misinformation.&#13;
For here works the man to whom the theatre looks for rescue from the threatening censor, the rapacious producer, the unworthy actor, the snide play, and all the other nasty little germs that have got together to sicken the stage and its supporter, the long-submissive public. No, it doesn’t seem quite as it should be. You are not to be blamed if, basing your sense of the fitness of things upon the tales you have heard about the pomp and circum- stance of the American theatre, you looked for magnificence.&#13;
Instead, you enter a small outer office where you are met by a swiftly moving young wo- man who turns you over to a secretary and you are guided into the General Grant period room where Mr. Thomas expends the balm of his remarkable personality upon outraged artists and managers alike.&#13;
In such congenial atmosphere Mr. Thomas rules. These are the offices of the Producing Managers’ Association. In these rooms the future of the American stage will be molded if the producing managers have their way about it.&#13;
Mr. Thomas is the employee of the Pro- ducing Managers’ Association. He was chosen to be Executive Chairman of that organization in much the same way (and for very similar reasons) that Will H. Hays was taken by the movie producers and Kenesaw&#13;
Mountain Landis was drafted to head organ- ized professional baseball. Repeatedly he has been called the Will Hays of the theatre and the Judge Landis of the stage. There are certain analogies warranting these likenings but the truth is that the jobs of Mr. Hays and Judge Landis are more like each other than Mr. Thomas’s is like either.&#13;
But the immediate necessity is a picture of Augustus Thomas, in so far as words may draw a picture, and an outline history of him that you may see or fail to see his fitness for his job. He is large in stat- ure and of manner. Talk to him fifteen minutes and you have a feeling of having been entrusted by him with some great re- sponsibility. His face proclaims shrewd in- telligence. There is great humor in his blue, quizzical eyes, and only the orator is possessed of Mr. Thomas’s flexible mouth. There is not the squareness to his chin nor hook to his nose that the physiognomists insist upon allot- ting to the aggressive leader of men, but it would be foolish to intimate that Mr. Thomas&#13;
‘is not a leader.&#13;
He is almost 64 years old. He was born in St. Louis, Missouri, and still retains the stamp of it. Pronounce the name Missouri slowly. Dwell long upon and put feeling into the second syllable. Make it Mizzooooooouuuri. You have no idea how much that pronuncia- tion of the name of his native state suggests the personality of Augustus Thomas. And look there on his desk—that table-desk in the General Grant period office!&#13;
A corn-cob pipe!&#13;
There are those who would discount his ability as a playwright by saying that Augus- tus Thomas has orated himself to his current loftiness. They will tell you that many of his successful plays would never have been sold had he not sold himself first. In other words they say that Augustus Thomas usually sounds better than his plays. Pure envy and malice, of course. Stock companies are still staving off financial collapse with The Earl of&#13;
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Augustus Thomas—from ‘“ Mizzoura”’ 79&#13;
Pawtucket, The Witch- ing Hour, Mrs. Lef- fingwell’s Boots, The Embassy Ball, Arizona, and As a Man Thinks. It is difficult to evolve good reasons for denying Mr. Thomas the right to be called the foremost writer of American plays. The accent should be, of course, on American.&#13;
Mr. Thomas cannot be said to have started life with a purpose. He set out with purposes. Long before he was sixteen years old, at which age he abandoned school- rooms as a regular habit, he had achieved forensic renown. On Friday after- noons there were dec- Jamation exercises in the public schools of St. Louis and the first prize went inevitably to this never-doubting Thomas.&#13;
It is possible that there never was a youth who had so many careers planned for him by his enthusiastic admirers. A hundred influences pulled him this way and that. Finally he disap- pointed them all by turn- ing playwright. But in the crosswise pullings he turned his hand and head to many things and his manifold endeavors are hereupon listed that you may know of the wealth of experience that Mr. Thomas fetches with him to his job as Executive Chairman of the Producing Managers’ Association.&#13;
He began as a reporter for a St. Louis news- paper making an auspicious début by inter- viewing the prize winning Leghorn hen at the county fair. They say that the hen was made to say things worthy in every respect of the Augustus Thomas of later years. Suddenly he developed ability as a cartoonist and al- though he gave no promise of greatness as an artist, he illustrated his own stuff and did it aptly.&#13;
He was a debater, of course, and his oratori-&#13;
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Photo. by Brown Bros.&#13;
AUGUSTUS THOMAS&#13;
As he is to-day. This photograph was taken in his office at the Producing Manager’s Association&#13;
cal fame grew until Missouri politicians fell to counting the days when Augustus Thomas would be of voting age and enter politics, taking the stump for Democratic candidates. By way of preparing for politics he took up the study of law in the office of John Colby, a St. Louis lawyer, later to be Mr. Thomas’s father-in-law.&#13;
But the law lost him. He t¥rned to rail- roading and for six years it seemed that Augustus Thomas had found his groove. Eugene Victor Debs’s famous association, The Knights of Labor, was the A. F. of L. of those days and Mr. Thomas joined the union. He did more than that; he let no meeting of organized labor pass without taking active part therein. It took him two or three months to inform the comrades that they had&#13;
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80 W. A. Davenport&#13;
in their midst an orator beside whom the silveriest tongue that Missouri had sent to Congress was but a pewter adenoid. Politicians who sought to train the lad in the ways of office holding had obtained for him a place as page in the forty-first Congress. Thus young Thomas had heard the worst of them and had learned how not to orate. But to get back to the new voice of labor, it is re- corded that such a sensation was Mr. Thomas in the halls where Missouri Cen- tral Local No. 9, K. of L. was wont to fore- gather, that erstwhile puny assemblages be- came raucous crowds. It is unofficially told that Mr. Thomas once headed a delegation of workers that had been commissioned by Lo- cal No. 9 to lay be- fore the boss certain grievances that irked the railroaders. Mr. Thomas was the first speaker. He was to have been answered by the boss himself&#13;
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trator, railroad brakeman, law student, labor leader, and always anorator. Later on he did&#13;
a turn at acting in one or two of his own plays but only in a pinch. They say that much worse actors have been, are being, and will be seen.&#13;
Mr. Thomas has written more than 100&#13;
plays.&#13;
His first success of any degree was Editha’s Burglar, a dramatization of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s novel. It was produced in 1889 and then Mr. Thomas came to New York. And thus encouraged he turned out with rather remarkable rapidity Col. Carter of Cartersville, Soldiers of Fortune, Alabama, Mizzoura, Arizona, Colorado, Man of the World, Afterthoughts, the Meddler, the Man Upstairs, Oliver Goldsmith, the Har- vest Moon, Asa Man Thinks, Indian Sum- mer, On The Quiet, A Proper Impropriety, That Overcoat, The&#13;
who was no orator. Capitol, New Blood, Mr. Thomas launched MR. THOMAS IN NOVEMBER, 1900 The Hoosier Doctor, forth. He told in de- The Earl of Paw-&#13;
tail of the desires of his fellows. He continued to glorify labor asa whole. Warming up to his task he delivered an oration that took in the magnificence of the Democratic Party and the future of America. The boss, as has been said, was no orator; but he was a Democrat. The meeting concluded with a general hand- wringing and a complete victory for the work- ers. A mystified but satisfied brakeman re- ported back to the executive committee of Local No. 0:&#13;
“| dunno what he said, but we won.”’&#13;
But railroading did not hold him. He be- came the editor and proprietor of a newspaper that died aborning—the Kansas City Mirror. He ran for the Missouri legislature and didn’t win. He began writing plays.&#13;
So here you behold Augustus Thomas start- ing out on the career that was to make him famous, having been in turn journalist, illus-&#13;
tucket, The Other Girl, Mrs. Leffingwell’s Boots, The Education of Mr. Pipp, Jim DeLancey, The Embassy Ball, The Witching Hour, Rio Grande, Kentuck, and The Cop- perhead.&#13;
Mr. Thomas came to New York to write plays; but the early Missouri training was not to be shaken off so easily. He continued to dip rather than plunge into politics.&#13;
He has sat in the deliberations of the Na- tional Democratic Committee. He has stumped the country for every Democratic candidate for the Presidency since and in- cluding Mr. Bryan. He became a personal friend of Woodrow Wilson and might have been our Minister to Belgium had he agreed to Mr. Wilson’s plan to make the appoint- ment. But he has never held political office.&#13;
Thus you get something of a picture of the man who is Executive Chairman of the Pro-&#13;
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ducing Managers’ Association. Before set- ting down a word of this, the writer went about asking men and women of the theatre just what they thought of Augustus Thomas; whether they thought the managers had chosen wisely; whether they believed that Mr. Thomas was likely to help the theatre. It seemed to be the only fair thing to do. “‘He knows the&#13;
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Augustus Thomas—from ‘“ Mizzoura” 81&#13;
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mine is the psychology of the player. Further- more | know this: that the theatre belongs first to the public and that liens are held succes- sively by the dramatist, the artist, and the pro- ducer. | am not here to combat the Actors’ Equity Association. I would not turn to the&#13;
right nor the left to injure that organization.&#13;
“T am in complete sympathy, with organ- izations of workers&#13;
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theatre,” was their boiled-down reply. “He is fair; he is on the level; he is acces- sible and he’ll listen no matter how long you talk. He hasn’t been called upon yet to arbitrate anything of importance but we think he’ll get away with it neatly when the time comes.”’&#13;
Mr. Thomas _ took over his duties as head of the Preducing Managers’ Association last July. He has not yet been put to severe test. But the longer you talk to him the more it grows upon you that it is wholly possible that he will never be thus tried out. The chances are, if the writer’s diagnosis of this character is accurate, that Mr. Thomas will be found a few steps ahead of a crisis. It is possible that he may win the title of the Great Anticipator. I am making a real effort to take a judicial viewpoint; to avoid too ready enthusiasms. But you do leave Mr. Thomes believing that he is shrewd enough and far- sighted enough to reduce preventable crises to a minimum.&#13;
“You see,” he said before the discussion turned to matters of censorship and the like, “| speak the language of the theatre. | am of the theatre. 1 have done everything in the theatre except work the lights. | have worked as an usher from the orchestra to the balconies. I have sold and taken tickets. | have shifted scenery. I have written plays,&#13;
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produced plays, directed plays, and even acted in plays. “T know the traditions of the theatre and&#13;
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MR. THOMAS IN 1889 This picture was taken at the time of his arrival in New York&#13;
that have come into being because of un- fair conditions and on- erous circumstances that individual or un- organized protest can- not change. The artist who is tightened up that he might hold his own must necessarily fall short of the stand- ards of the artist. Give that artist assurances of his personal secur- ity and he is relieved of the blight that de- stroys his power. It is to the public that the actor must look for recognition of his artistry.&#13;
“ Therefore it is for me to convince the Actors’ Equity Associ- ation and the Produc- ing Managers’ Association that neither is privileged to fight nor fear the other. When 1 took this office | was faced by the then troublesome question of whether the Ac- tors’ Equity Association was to impose the closed shop principle to the stage. I re- ceived from Mr. Frank Gillmore, Executive Secretary of the Actors’ Equity, a letter ex- pressing the willingness of the Equity to re- submit the policy of the Equity Shop to a vote of the members if the managers would agree to accept the outcome of such a ref- erendum.&#13;
“1 can do no better than tell you just what 1 said in my reply to Mr. Gillmore. The purpose of his letter was the wish to avoid a conflict that seems possible when the con- tract between the Equity and the managers terminates in June, 1924. You must under- stand that the Equity shop means the Closed Shop or a condition, as Mr. Gillmore put it,&#13;
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82 W. A. Davenport&#13;
‘in which the Equity members will not play with non-members.’&#13;
“Mr. Gillmore went on to say, ‘Surely that is their (the Equity’s) right or the right of any one to make as a condition of acceptance of engagement that every member of the com- pany shall belong to their association.’&#13;
“To this | replied that | agreed with him that it was an indi- vidual right but dif- fered from him in that as far as the public is concerned it becomes a questionable right whenever you en- deavor to make such a right general and concerted by a con- spiracy however be- nevolent. I told Mr. Gillmore that | did not want to question the generosity of his offer to submit the matter of a closed shop to his member- ship so far in advance of the termination of the agreement, but that | had something simpler to offer.&#13;
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and industry of the theatre belongs by right to the actors.’ I replied that there was not the slightest reason for questioning such a statement but that the actors should remem- ber that that actor is possessed of a distorted vision who thinks that all of the art or in- dustry of the theatre belongs to him. And I repeated to him what | have said to you; that the theatre doesn’t belong to the actor nor to the manager nor to the dramatist but that it is and must continue to be a great public insti- tution. “Personally I do not believe that we are ready for a time when every man who gets any money as a wage shall be allied in a class against everybody who pays money as a wage.” Nothing else that could be set down here could add to or make more explicit Mr. Thomas’s attitude toward the closed&#13;
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“| suggested that inasmuch as the great majority of the mem- bers of the Equity were more or less constantly on the move and, therefore, difficult to poll, that we hold a referendum on the subject in the Producing Managers’ Association with its membership of 53 as against the Equity’s 3,755 and among the Dramatists’ Society which numbers but few more than the managers. These two bodies, | reminded him, were not nearly so itinerant as the actors and therefore much easier of access. If these two associations voted against the closed shop, as they would, of course, just as the Equity would vote for it, we would submit the result of this balloting to the actors as the actors desired to submit their sure thing vote to the managers.&#13;
“That was putting the boot on the other foot. At any rate it was as fair as Mr. Gillmore’s suggestion inasmuch as it entailed the.same process. Mr. Gillmore’s letter went on to say ‘no one will deny that part of the art&#13;
A BUST OF MR. THOMAS By Robert Aitken, N. A.&#13;
shop for the stage. Therefore we move on to the incidental phases of his job.&#13;
“| haven’t the arbitrary powers of Will Hays in the movies nor of Judge Landis in baseball,”” said he. “Will Hays can banish a Fatty Arbuckle and the Judge can rule out an unruly athlete. There is nothing like that among the possibilities of my job.”’&#13;
“Do you purpose forestalling state censor- ship by doing a bit of censoring yourself?” he was asked.&#13;
“No. | think I shall confine myself to being a moral example instead of a censor. I was interested in the volunteer censorship movement of last spring because official censorship seemed imminent. Not, mind you, that | have sympathy with any sort of censorship, but | wasof the opinion that volun- teer censorship was the lesser of the two evils. As a matter of fact this office has nothing whatever to do with censorship although I suppose if the morality of any production of&#13;
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Augustus Thomas—from ‘“‘ Mizzoura”’ 83&#13;
any of the members of the Producing Man- agers’ Association were called into question | should be consulted.&#13;
“As a matter of fact, offenses in the theatre are very rare. In thirty years the number of times the police have been asked to interfere in the theatre could be counted upon the fingers of one hand.&#13;
“There has been quite a lot of misconcep- tion connected with this job of mine. My official position does not constitute me a general clearing house for all theatrical troub- les. | am concerned only with the things that come before the association for decision.”&#13;
“Have you stopped writing plays?”&#13;
“No,” he replied. “No one ever does. It is an incurable disease. I have written a new one in collaboration with John Tainter Foote, and George Cohan is going to produce it one of these days.”&#13;
“Will you ever act again?”’&#13;
“Only if there is a three-alarm call. Other- wise | shall behave myself. You know, | act only in emergencies. It was back in 1890 or thereabout that | made my début as an emergency actor. Maurice Barrymore, who was playing the lead in my A Man of the World, was taken sick. I hopped in. | was not a complete loss as an understudy either, although | cannot recall any great contro- versy concerning the relative abilities of Mr. Barrymore and myself. 1 did a similar job of pinch-acting in another of my own plays, Nemesis. Emmett Corrigan was playing the lead. He became ill just before the curtain went up. There was nothing for me to do but play the part. Fortunately Mr. Corrigan’s recovery was rapid.”&#13;
“Would it fall upon you to adjust the dif- ferences between a manager and a critic?”’ Mr. Thomas’s interviewer asked. “For ex- ample, how about those cases where man- agers, enraged by harsh criticism, have barred those critics from their theatres’”’&#13;
“Yes, | presume such a case would come before me for adjustment. lI’d be just as&#13;
pleased, however, if the condition did not.&#13;
come about. At any rate, those things are incidental. | was instrumental in assisting in the making of the present agreement be- tween the managers and the actors. It is in the interest of those relations that | am here.”&#13;
Mr. Thomas’s contract stipulates that he shall continue as Executive Chairman of the&#13;
Producing Managers’ Association for three years. It is entirely likely that he will not be subjected to a real test until the current agreement between the Equity and the man- agers expires. He says that he is more than willing to defer comment upon that situation. He purposes leveling existing obstacles to a wholly agreeable continuation of the peace that exists.&#13;
He goes about this as he would construct a play—logically and with a view to a satis- factory conclusion. Another reason why he has not been forced to meet a crisis is that he took office about the time when both man- agers and actors were recovering from an almost unprecedented slump in the theatrical business. The theatre seems to be recovering from a financial demoralization. Men seldom disagree when their affairs are on the up grade.&#13;
“My early political education out in Mis- souri,” said Mr. Thomas, “taught me that there is but one way to win confidence that lasts. Out there we had orators. We es- chewed the weasel word and cherished the outspoken fact. We mounted the stump and told the constituency just where we stood and what we wanted to do. Then, if the constit- uency supplied the votes, we went ahead and did it. There was very little if any closet conniving out in Missouri in those days.”&#13;
And thus we return to our opening state- ment that Augustus Thomas is applying Missouri politics to the American theatre.&#13;
“There are certain unchallengeable stand- ards to which the theatre must cleave or else dissolve,” he said. ‘We have these standards before us. Very well, it is up to the managers and the actors to meet openly and unarmed on these standards and come to an agreement. No actor or group of actors is indispensable. The theatre can lose any producing manager or group of producing managers and survive. Every play that has been written may be cast into the discard without killing the theatre.&#13;
“But let selfishness blind the actor and greed mislead the manager and the real owner of the theatre, the public, will see to it that both actor and manager are wiped out and new actors and new managers substituted. There is nothing artistic about common sense, but the artistic is never injured by fusion with common sense. Yes, they incorporated a large consignment of common sense in Mis- souri politics.”&#13;
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TRUE FARMER&#13;
COOPERATION&#13;
The California Plan of Codperative Marketing. How It Differs from the&#13;
Rochdale Plan. “Locality” vs. “Commodity” .&#13;
By AARON&#13;
HE factory system is recognized as the key to all forms of productive in- dustries to-day all over the world— except in agriculture. Now, where there is the factory system or group production there is group capital. Where there is group capital there must be a corpor- ation formed. That is why every state in the Union established laws whereby group marketing and production could be carried on, giving us the artificial thing called a cor- poration for carrying on that activity. But they forgot the farmer. The farmer’s is the only part of modern industry (besides art) in which you have individual production. The ideal of every man is a country dotted with farm units in which one man operates the farm and produces through hisown labor or through the assistance of hired men. And they think that because the farmer produces individ- ually, marketing is an individual problem.&#13;
But marketing is not individual at all. It is a group problem. You cannot market without a distineteonsideration of what all the other producers are doing at the same time. You cannot market without knowing what the market absorption is, or what the market de- mand is, what the money markets are, and the other elements of trade. Production can be done individually. Marketing can be done sanely only on a collective basis, and through organized effort. The codperative structure represents that organized effort. The farmer must have some ‘way in which he can take the crops from individual pro- duction through the group problem such as financing and marketing. This way is coéperation, with experts handling these technical group problems.&#13;
There are two types of codperative organiza- tions to-day in the world that are worth real at- tention. One is the so-called coéperative mar- keting movement, which is a producers’ move- ment. The other is a codperative buying move- ment, which is a consumers’ movement.&#13;
Organization and Financing SAPIRO&#13;
The consumers’ movement developed first to a high point in England, and is known there as the Rochdale movement. The Rochdale movement in its ultimate development is very large. They have more than 1,200 stores in England. The basic factor there is that Eng- land is not a producer of raw material. Their problem is a manufacturing and consuming problem. They develop from the consumer’s standpoint. Stores were a necessity. They needed capital. Each person was a purchaser. They had to have patronage, dividends. It was a normal and right development for a consumers’ movement. Then it began to go into manufacturing. This society has devel- oped; and instead of buying, it tries to manu- facture. To-day it is the largest employer of labor in England. There are 42,000 people employed in its mills and factories. They have established steamship lines, coal mines, and dairy farms. But that is codperation de- veloped from a consumer’s standpoint. That is why you have to have capital to start with and give the so-called patronage divi- dend to the people who buy from you.&#13;
We are an English-speaking nation and few of us understand Danish. Therefore, it is only of late years that the Scandinavian groups have made known their contributions. When the American farmers heard of codpera- tion in England, they started to organize on those lines. They built codperative elevators and started codperative fertilizer buying. They thought that the right method of codper- ation was to imitate the movement of the con- sumers’ codperatives. Take the Rochdale system, a consumers’ system; apply it to farms and marketing problems, and what is the result?&#13;
In the whole Mississippi Valley there are 4,000 alleged codperative grain elevators. The elevator is organized with capital stock. It takes in as members farmers primarily and limits the dividends to 8 per cent. Then it proceeds to buy grain from the different&#13;
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True Farmer Coéperation 85&#13;
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li 7 i = ane ne MON ' N. D. \ % °Heleng ! Fargog eae: } MINN. | a a / * PAHO + Minhas i S. D. ' ' Wyo, i — aoe * 4 | ee 1 oes Sete ! NEB. ~ 1\OWA \ Cantone . ae i  @ i wo.) OHIO fg A eee a a nine } envers ‘G —— \ ' i) PA rw as ee I COLO, | x ee hae Jonenotig KAN + MO. Fy = 7 ~~ * a a tia ree Es i &gt; qe qutenenis a . ao o Raleighe ! p-—-—= %*  #£=.\}+—----- a : 4 *N ; : J A 4 TENN sec ' ' ®© Oklahomae * ee 5 | F ARK. cents lal \ ‘\ 1 NEW Mex H ;City we \Littles tey ‘- ; x \ $e ! | ee se ea tock, | \ gr Atlanta ' H ! GA. * ' * H Dallas #23. rot Miss: + Siuseoner *} pan BH = — =~ I * \ ! a i Be ee REI Paso TEXA \ LA. \ ao we =. . \ Baton Sade | Rouge +* ne. * . — Tampa, * X Va * Scale of _ \. Q@ 100 200 300 400 500 ES fi Vents oe __GENERAL DRAFTING CO. INC. N.Y.&#13;
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COOPERATIVE MARKETING&#13;
ASSOCIATIONS IN THE&#13;
UNITED STATES&#13;
The stars show the location of codperatives that are members of the National Council of Farmers’ Codperative Marketing Associations&#13;
growers, either members or non-members. It might buy grain from Mr. No. 1, at $1.40 a bushel. It might buy the next man’s grain at $1.60, and the next one at $1.80. The elevator is not in business to lose money; it must make something out of its purchases. And the manager says, “No. 1 must come in and sell his wheat to me.” As manager of the association, he doesn’t tell him he thinks it is not wise for him to sell his wheat—be- cause he must make money for the codpera- tive elevator. He lets him sell at $1.40; so that he can make a profit and not a loss. When the second man comes in and wants to sell his wheat at $1.60, the manager doesn’t advise him either. Yet he is the paid servant of both of them. When the next man comes in, he will buy at $1.80 from him, expecting to make a profit. He is speculating on all three. He is doing the same as any specula- tor on the Chicago Board of Trade, except that he is owned by the farmers, and the spec- ulators in the Chicago Board of Trade are owned by the city people.&#13;
At the end of the year what happens? He will say, “I have made a lot of profit. Be-&#13;
cause No. 1 didn’t guess right, and No. 2 didn’t guess right, | have won something. There is a patronage dividend of 5 cents a bushel as No. 1. gets $1.45 for his year’s ex- perierce; No. 2 gets $1.65 for his year’s ex- perience, and No. 3 gets $1.85. Two made money on one; one made money on two; and the association, which was supposed to be&#13;
codperative, has made money on _ the farmers instead of making money for the farmers.”&#13;
That is the whole course of procedure of these so-called Rochdale stores and elevators throughout the Mississippi Valley. Each one stands as a separate unit and sells against the other elevator. As soon as they think the market is going to be high, they dump their wheat in and the market is swamped. As soon as they think the market is going down, they hold off until the banker puts pressure on&#13;
them. It is not good merchandising; it is not codperation. They are building the system&#13;
from the wrong standpoint. That is why every time a crisis appears these men hold in- dignation meetings, urging everybody to punish the firms who dare to break.&#13;
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The trouble is not with these men. They started to follow a consumer model in- stead of a model that would be developed nat- urally in a country that produced. That is fundamental. | have devoted some time to it because | want to show that it has been one of the most egregious blunders committed in agri- cultural America. The worst of it is that the men who were supposed to lead—the univer- sity men as well—did not detect the difference. They are simply local speculators with a profit-sharing plan.&#13;
In California, on the other hand, the co- operatives have stabilized industries. That is why in California, if the producers do have a hard year, the Non-partisan League cannot make them listen to its tenets.&#13;
The California farmers have found a way of salvation for themselves even in a bad year. Go elsewhere in the United States and you will find the League or some similar body thriving, because it feeds on discontent. It offers to the farmer a political remedy. It has been proved in California that the farm- ers can solve their own problems by purely economic means. They need not depend on politics or radicals; they just retain a solid businesslike arrangement.&#13;
This is almost universal in California. Practically all the dominant industries are organized, except where it is impossible to or- ganize them because of Japanese control. Some industries, unfortunately, are under an adverse element which will not mix. The Japanese believe in a feudal system. It is surprising to know that in the San Joaquin delta, where they raise an enormous quantity of potatoes, sometimes half of the potatoes raised are controlled by one man, a Japanese. So we cannot organize potatoes very well except on a small white scale. But wherever the white man is, organization has been ef- fected. And where organization has been effected in California, it has been effected on a huge scale. We have 97 per cent. of all the berry growers in central California in one association; 86 per cent. of the almond growers in one association; 92 per cent. of the raisin growers; 83 per cent. of the apricot growers; 80 per cent. of the prune growers; over 75 per cent. of the walnut growers; over 80 per cent. of the peach growers; 75 per cent. of the lima bean growers; over 50 per cent. of the pear growers; about 50 per cent. of the grape growers, and so on.&#13;
Aaron Sapiro&#13;
The Califcrnia coéperatives are now handling products in excess of $250,000,000 a year.&#13;
We have even organized the egg industry— the most difficult industry of all to organize. Eggs come not only from America—(the biggest producing state, of course, is Missouri —less than 5 per cent. of the eggs in the coun- try are raised in California)—they come from China and from Australia, eggs of all kinds. We get Chinese eggs, buried in clay for six months so as to keep from spring to fall, then sold in the California market mixed up with the middle-western storage eggs. If you want to get eggs with a particularly Chinese flavor, get those eggs that have been buried for six months!&#13;
We have to compete with eggs from all over the world. Yet we have a poultry pro- ducers’ association, that handled last year twenty million dozen eggs. Every storage egg is candled and graded and the proceeds pooled.&#13;
They have, under contract, 2,300,000 hens— the hens are not under contract to lay; but the owners are under contract to deliver. This year the association will handle over 23,000,000 dozen eggs.&#13;
So you can organize, no matter how diffi- cult it seems at the start. The California idea has been adopted by numerous states. It has been adopted bodily by Canada. The Canadians are now studying their wheat in- dustry, 300,000,000 bushels, for a five-year plan. They are checking up the plan of the Washington Wheat Growers’ Association. The cotton men are organized in twelve states on that basis. The tobacco men of Virginia and the Carolinas, Kentucky and all other states have already organized on the Cali- fornia plan.&#13;
The movement is distinctly Californian— but from California it has spread and become nationalized.&#13;
The financing plan of the Burley Tobacco Growers, experts say, is the most sound and economic plan ever evolved for growers of tobacco. There are all kinds of industries; there are all kinds of problems ineach. These things are so different, that one wonders if there are any really fundamental principles that you can apply to tobacco, as well as to strawberries and beans. There are.&#13;
The important point in practically every codperative association in California lies in the fact that it is based on the commodity idea&#13;
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True Farmer Coéperation 87&#13;
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PEAR TREES IN CALIFORNIA The California plan of coéperation associates the producers of a given commodity in one organization. operative plans associate the producers of a commodity in one community or district, thus competing with other producers of the same commodity outside the organized area&#13;
instead of the locality idea. That means that it was built up with regard to the commodity that is to be sold instead of the locality where it is raised. On the other hand, all the Middle Western codperatives are built around one place.&#13;
No one cares where wheat is produced. You don’t buy geography; you buy the prod- uct. If you raise something, you think of the locality. If you buy something, you think of the commodity. That is the first and dominant point in the California idea.&#13;
We have had some failures. We had to go through a lot of experiments to find that out. The orange growers organized locally, fight- ing each other, each trying to get into the same market. They could not understand their lack of progress. They suddenly real- ized that they were organized from the wrong viewpoint. They had organized from the viewpoint of production instead of marketing. They started in to reconstruct and to-day our orange growers’ association is composed of 228 locals, federated into twenty districts, with&#13;
Other co-&#13;
the districts federated into one central ex- change.&#13;
Of course, all products have different prob- lems. The problem of perishable products is routing. The problem of the non-perishable products is storage and financing, so that you can have sane and orderly marketing through- out the year. The routing of the California Fruit Growers’ Association is done through one office that routes practically every car of oranges shipped codperatively from the West.&#13;
It took many years to learn that. We were so stupid that our other associations didn’t even learn from the experiences of the orange growers. The prune growers had to bump themselves before they recognized that. The prune growers were organized locally. At Santa Clara when they started the organiza- tion the buyers came and said: “ You shouldn’t goin withthe Napamen. They want you be- cause everybody knows that the Santa Clara prunes are the most desirable. The Napa district wants to come in with Santa Clara because of its prestige.”&#13;
Then they went to the Napa growers and&#13;
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said: “ You don’t want to go in with the Santa Clara men, because you have larger prunes.” They convinced them that Santa Clara wanted to get the benefit of the larger sizes.&#13;
CAUSE AND EFFECT&#13;
HEY organized the two separately—and&#13;
they broke each one separately. The growers in central California have still amonu- ment of over a half million dollars in a big pack- ing plant—they lost it in one year because they organized locally. You pass it every time you go from San Francisco to the present head- quarters of the prune industry. It was the best thing that ever happened to the growers for it prodded them into the commodity plan. They analyzed their failure and saw that the fault was that they were organized from a locality standpoint instead of from the standpoint of the commodity.&#13;
In California we had organization after organization breaking on the locality plan and then suddenly discovering the commodity plan. But we never realized it until 1920. That was the first time anybody ever really articulated the difference between the Cali- fornia plan and the other plans. That opened oureyes. We said: ‘‘Howeasy. That is the difference—organize from a commodity stand- point and not from a locality standpoint.”&#13;
The commodity idea must be handled within practical limits. But the commodity idea is the first thing to bear in mind when you are thinking of successful codperative associations.&#13;
Another universal rule is that a codperative commodity association must be composed of farmers only. Not a single outsider should be allowed to join. A man may be a banker and a farmer, but he must qualify as a farmer. He should not be allowed to join just as a banker. The same rule applies to the mer- chant. He must actually have something to sell through that association. There must be a community of interest between him and every other fellow in that association.&#13;
Furthermore, the association must be or- ganized for business purposes only. That is fundamental. There must be no politics in it—nothing but straight business from the ground up. We don’t permit discussions on subjects that have nothing to do with our commercial problem. That is sometimes a very hard thing for the so-called professional farm leaders to swallow. The only kind of an&#13;
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Sapiro&#13;
association they are used to is a farmers’ de- bating society. The codperative associations are composed wholly of business interests and are organized exactly like a bank.&#13;
The first thing we think of when we organ- ize an association is ““How permanent can we make it?’’ We don’t organize a so-called “fly-by-night”’ interest on a one-year basis in California. After an organization has been going for years, like the Orange Growers’ As- sociation, it can make a contract for one year. Its trade is established, the outsider is weak. It can easily go on with a withdrawal privi- lege. But when it is first organized it must organize for a long period, anywhere from five to fifteen years. The new raisin contracts are for fifteen years; the peach contract is eight years; the prune contract is seven years. In Denmark they sign for as long a period as fifteen years. The average contract is a five- yearone. That gives the association a chance for mobilization on a permanent basis; it gives. the association a chance to work out a merchandising policy; it gives the associa- tion a chance to make trade connections and to develop personnel.&#13;
Take the question of advertising. No one supposes that advertising for one year gives us any real result. What would have hap- pened if the prune growers.had organized on a one-year basis? Whither would they have reached? To get the real results of advertis- ing there must be a cumulative effect. There must be a long-term contract for real merchan- dising.&#13;
It is possible to merchandise on long con- tracts. Let us take prunes, for example. They have raised the consumption of prunes in the United States in a period of three years from 47,000,000 pounds to 112,000,000 pounds. The consumption of oranges in the United States was increased 300 per cent. in a period of less than seven years by the advertising of the California Fruit Growers’ Exchange. A number of these associations operated with brilliant success after the alleged business-on- commission-men had been doing what they thought was advertising to get increased con- sumption and had reported that the markets would take no more and that overproduction was the problem.&#13;
It is not possible to do these things on a short-time basis. You hear some objections to that. The growers may say they wouldn’t think of signing for five years. You may hear&#13;
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True Farmer Codéperation 89&#13;
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APPLES AND PLUMS In the foreground are apple trees, in the middle distance are plums, while beyond those are orchards of other fruits. This producer is allowed to join any of the codperatives for which he produces. No one, however, who is not a pro- ducer can be a member of the California-plan codperative&#13;
the same story that went through California some years ago.&#13;
When we started the prune campaign, that was the “Last of the Mohicans” as far as the speculators of California were concerned. Prunes were proving profitable for specula- tors. All the other dried fruits were organ- ized. They put on a real fight to prevent the organization of the growers. They sent buyers into district after district, trying to convince the farmers that they should not sign. The buyers would sit down and talk to the individual farmer and would say: “ Yes, it’s a mighty good contract, a fine idea for the growers. We believe in codperation. If it were only for one year instead of five, | would advise you to sign it. But how do you fellows know that those other fellows aren’t crooked? For five years you will have to tie yourself up to the same fellows and you don’t know who they are.”&#13;
One wise farmer gave an answer—it went all over the state: “| have two choices before&#13;
me, either to sign with these growers who are just like me, and have the same interest— they are taking as much chance with me as | am taking with them—or I have to sign up with you for life, only you haven’t told me where to sign on the dotted line and what you’ll make me take for my prunes.&#13;
“T have had enough of you, I am going to take a chance for five years with the other fellows.”&#13;
That went all over the state. They began to realize that it was a question of tying themselves up with an association for a fixed period or tying up with the speculator for life.&#13;
And we go still further: we organize not only from a permanent standpoint, but just as one would organize a bank. To start a bank the capital needed would depend on the field in which it was to operate. That is sound bank- ing. Ifa banker trying to locate in New York had to open a bank with $25,000 capital most people would say: “ Poor man, he is so limited&#13;
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go Aaron in his field of activity he can’t do anything.” Wherever a bank is to be located there is a proper minimum, a proper capital, a proper figure at which it can do business.&#13;
HOW THE MINIMUM IS SET&#13;
HE farmers’ business in California is as&#13;
important as a bank. When a coépera- tive association is started a minimum is fixed at once for our coéperative contracts. With raisins the minimum was 75 per cent. That was based cold-bloodedly on the idea that there would be an overproduction. With that minimum there was enough tied up so that if there was an overproduction and they couldn’t increase cons:nption in a few years, nevertheless they could carry over some and compel the buyers to come for some raisins.&#13;
With other products there are different minimums. With eggs all the contracts were conditioned on signing up the owners of 1,000,000 hens. To-day we have 2,300,000. With prunes the minimum was 75 per cent.; with pears, 50 percent. Nocontract is effec- tive until that minimum is reached. With this arrangement the codperatives start as solidly as a bank. It is a business proposi- tion.&#13;
Then those growers are tied to each other under as tight a contract as can be drawn. We have been criticized for that type of contract. Men refer to it very scathingly, calling it all kinds of names. We see to it that if any man signs a contract he is going to deliver the product. We have taken the contract into court time after time, and not only got liqui- dated damages, but likewise got injunctions to prevent delivery to other people. We get decrees for specific performance on this con- tract. We get equitable relief all the way down the line. In short, we make the con- tracts the strongest link, not the weakest. We use strong clauses in just the same way as if a bank were being organized, the sub- scription agreements for capital would be drawn up making it the strictest contract possible. We always realize that the specu- lators are interested in preventing our success; sometimes they keep fighting until we wipe them out. The speculator gets some growers. The temptation is strong. We have welchers occasionally; then we need strength in the contract. An honest man doesn’t really need contracts. The man who is not honest had better not sign. If he does sign, we will get&#13;
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his product. We organize from a_ purely business standpoint and have strong contracts —a fixed minimum and the idea of perman- ency; all on a non-profit and codperative method.&#13;
The association without capital stock is ideal for the marketing association. If a building, a warehouse, or packing plant is needed, no matter how cheap or expen- sive, we organize a subsidiary organization. Conservatism is a primary necessity. Monop- olies are forbidden under the Sherman Anti- Trust Act. The Clayton Amendment, how- ever, exempts agricultural and horticultural associations not organized for profit and not having capital stock. This is extremely technical. The Sherman Act involves law. Every part must be strictly construed. In organizing, it is wise to keep as closely as possible to the text of the law.&#13;
The marketing association is organized without capital stock. The only association that buys or sells has no capital stock. Not&#13;
a single penny’s worth of stuff is handled for |&#13;
an outsider. It is purely codperative. There is no speculation. If we have a monopoly it is a monopoly solely and literally through coéperation. We get the benefit of this ex- emption. Now the Capper-Volstead Act gives a similar exemption to all kinds of co- operatives; but we shall prefer no capital stock in co6peratives.&#13;
As a matter of fact, a co6perative market- ing association doesn’t need capital. It isn’t buying anything for cash or a fixed price. It is organized to sell something. Keep distinct the difference between the Rochdale Consum- ers’ Stores and the Farmers’ Marketing As- sociation. The marketing association needs something to market. Therefore, its basis is the marketing contract with a minimum. The Rochdale Consumers’ Store wants some- thing first to buy, which then it sells. It needs capital and needs dividends. There is the big distinction.&#13;
So, then, a codperative marketing associa- tion should be absolutely non-profit pro- ducing. The association makes agreements directly with the growers. They are either agency arrangements or sale and resale ar- rangements. The association grades the pro- duct; pools by grades; sells the products; deducts the cost of doing business; then the balance goes to the growers proportionately.&#13;
There are two types of contracts under&#13;
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which the codperative association works. One type is the agency contract. If it is dealing with fresh fruits or vegetables—things on which there is a routing problem to get them to the market where they are best able to be absorbed—if there is no necessity to store anything or finance anything—it would work with an agency contract. The association is the producer’s agent. Agency contracts are the easiest things to draw, and are perfectly simple things, so simple that one of our past governmental departments put them out as ideal contracts for codperative marketing associations. Apparently that particular de- partment had never heard of the sale and re- sale type of contract, which is the type universally used by associations that deal in non-perishable products.&#13;
Where there is a non-perishable product it must be financed. Where it is financed the association must get tit e to the property or it&#13;
Coéperation Ol cannot give any adequate collateral; it cannot indorse a warehouse receipt; it cannot handle the product as collateral. Therefore more than eleven years ago we evolved the so- called sale and resale contract; in which the grower sells his product and gives title to the association. The association agrees to pay him his proportionate share of the resale proceeds, less the cost of doing business.&#13;
The key to the Californian coéperative is the pool. The prune growers give a good ex- ample of the pooling idea.&#13;
Prunes are, first of all, fruits of different types or varieties. There is the Italian brand, which is sometimes known as the Oregon brand. There is the French brand, the Petite, and the Imperial brand. Prunes are also sold by size, so many to the pound— 20-30, 30—40, 40-50, 50-60, 60-70, 70-80, 80-90 90-100, 100-120, and 120 up. Then, in ad- dition, prunes are sold by quality. If it isa&#13;
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CHERRY BLOSSOMS&#13;
- There are many small codperative organizations, which have proved that the California plan can succeed.&#13;
It is now&#13;
the desire of such leaders as Mr. Sapiro to organize tobacco, cotton, and, if the tremendous difficulties inherent in the&#13;
great size of the enterprise can be overcome, to organize wheat ‘ ( t cooperative methods is interested primarily in the product itself, and not at all in the place of its origin.&#13;
The consumer of all these products that are subject to i Therefore, if&#13;
the Boston housewife finds Oregon apples to be better for her purpose than Massachusetts apples, she buys the former, and is entirely uninterested in those of less distant origin&#13;
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92 Aaron fine purple prune, which has not been dried out too much, and which is not too soft, that is the highest grade, “The Sunsweet.”’ If it is dried too much, or a little too soft or cracked or bronzed, it is not the highest grade, but goes in another pool. If it is badly bronzed, or cracked, or dried, or entirely too damp and is likely to spoil quickly and become mildewed, it goes into the third class. We make various pools of the poorer grades of prunes by sample.&#13;
WHERE A CROP GOES&#13;
O EVERY man delivering prunes may de- liver into ten different-sized classes and at the same time deliver two different varieties and two or three different grades. He may have prunes in forty different pools in a single crop. Then that same association handles apricots, and he may have apricots in per- haps twenty pools. His fruit may be in sixty pools in the association at any one time. When he delivers his fruit he gets a grade receipt telling him how many prunes he has sent in, the size, and the quality. That is all. He doesn’t own those prunes any more; the title passes to the association.&#13;
The association mingles that man’s prunes together with prunes of the same grade, type, and variety from every other grower in a com- mon pool. The pool is sold and the grower has an interest in the entire proceeds exactly proportionate to the percentage of the pool which he put in. If he puts in 1 per cent. of the prunes in the 20-30 Sunsweet or first grade he gets 1 per cent. of the net sale proceeds. Thus, every man in the associa- tion gets the same as every other man for the same type, grade, quantity, and quality of product. It is absolute codperation.&#13;
In that process, of course, the first problem is the problem of grading. We have had said to us that every man’s prunes are different from every other man’s prunes. That is absolutely true, in a sense. But we realized that even though there were differences, there were some methods of grading, for often pen- alties were imposed and often premiums paid. There are always bases for commercial classi- fication.&#13;
So, from the standpoint of grading, the problem is not so difficult as we are told. There is no reason, why the codperatives should not employ the very same men the buyers employ, using the best talent avail- able determining the value of their products.&#13;
Sapiro&#13;
The California farmer pays his farm hired man sometimes $4 a day, to help with produc- tion. Then he has a $20,000-a-year man who sits in Fresno and is hired to sell the fruit for him. The farmers know that their sales will be handled successfully, because they know they have an expert in a position where spe- cialized knowledge is the first requirement.&#13;
We have unquestionably the finest experts in their lines in our industries. There are no better men in the United States than the men in the California fruit associations. They are paid well, for one can’t ask for a fair price for raisins and deny a fair compensation for brains. There is competition for brains as well as for products. The codperatives em- ploy bankers for financing problems, and rail- road men for transportation, and they get experts. Our farmers do the thing they are best fitted for. Our experts do the other things that the farmers are not fitted for. There is a very good economic reason why the farmer is not fitted to sell his own products.&#13;
The next universal question is: “When you get the experts on the job, what do they do? Do they work miracles of merchandising?”’&#13;
Coéperative marketing simply permits you to merchandise your products. Merchandis- ing your products means to follow the theo- retical rule of supply and demand. But the term “supply and demand” is not used in the style in which old-style economists used it—as weird machinery which in some way skillfully strips the producer and carries home riches for the middleman. The term “supply and demand” is a flexible term. There are movable factors in those words. Take the term “supply,’—it includes the terms of “where and when,” “time and place.” There are two movable factors in the word “sup- ply.” The codperative association always tries to find the movable factors.&#13;
In the case of eggs, the time factor is stor- age. About two thirds of the supply is pro- duced in three and a half months of the year. In the other eight and a half months the other one third is produced. We know from ex- perience in all parts of the country, that there is a flush and famine period in production. What is the merchandising problem there? The merchandising problem is time and place again. In spring eggs are stored. The as- sociation stored 2,000,000 dozen eggs last year from the flush period for use in the October-to-December period. We did more&#13;
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Farmer Codéperation&#13;
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ORCHARD OF PRUNE TREES&#13;
The coéperatives are careful graders of their products, and none of them have done more to improve quality than have the prune associations&#13;
than that. We found a process by which we could take perfectly fresh eggs and by machinery dip them in oil at a temperature of 240 degrees. By moving the eggs through that oil for five seconds, it boils that little filament underneath the shell and makes it impervious to air. We then have a processed egg which may be put in ordinary storage for a year or two years; and the egg can be poached at the end of that period, and no one can tell by taste or smell or in any other way that it is not an absolutely fresh egg. It can- not be made fresher than it started out; but it can be kept fresh.&#13;
Last year it processed about 25,000 cases of thirty dozen to the case. We sold them as California processed eggs. We made a fine premium on those eggs. That is taking care of the problem of time and place. We are not missing any legitimate methods, by which we can get for our growers any merchandising&#13;
advantage of eggs. At the same time the public is going to get marvelous advantage through processed eggs, when those eggs be- come better known, because, instead of pay- ing very high prices for perfectly fresh eggs in fall and winter, they can use processed eggs. The association puts out high-grade fancies for the people who want them; but it believes the people may prefer the processed eggs and get all the benefit they can from the better merchandising method.&#13;
Every association experiments. They have experimented on the package prune—two- pound cartons, five-pound boxes—so that they won’t sugar, won’t mold, won’t spoil with the heat—so that the people won’t have to buy them out of dirty boxes that are put on the floor at the groceries.&#13;
They experimented with the package, with every phase of production. They tried to get people to eat more prunes. Men were sent&#13;
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04 Aaron to China. They came back and told the associations that the people over there who could afford to buy prunes were very limited in number, but there were enough in a big country like China to justify opening a mar- ket. They said that it would be necessary to give away samples because the Chinese did not know what California prunes are. Act- ing on this suggestion small samples were projected—two or three prunes in a little box. A Chinese expert was asked to pass on it. He was shown the kind of boxes that were to be used, and the labels on them. The label had a purple prune. He threw up his hands in horror. “ You can’t give away those.”&#13;
“Why?”&#13;
“Purple is the sign of old age and death; you couldn’t give those away; they wouldn’t touch them.”&#13;
So when the prune associations start to develop the Chinese market they will not use purple on their boxes. But they are going to develop that market; they are going to de- velop the Japanese market. They will give away samples. They will have to get out posters and put them on poles. They are going to try to make arrangements for plas- tering them on jinrickshas. They stay right on the job as to merchandising methods. The problem of financing the growers must be faced at the start.&#13;
HOW ADVANCE PAYMENTS ARE MADE&#13;
Bie trerbonn couldn’t exist unless&#13;
they could find some method for making advance payments—payments on account when they get the product. They have gone through that process time after time in Cali- fornia. Different methods are used. In some cases the association gets direct credit on the basis of its stored products.&#13;
In 1919 the prune growers had a written arrangement with a group of bankers; they considered the problem locally with the local bankers and then they invited their city cor- respondents and they got New York bankers into the pool. They formed a great pool under which, by written agreement, they could borrow up to $10,000,000 at 42 per cent. for their rieeds during the year. They didn’t even have to give up the warehouse receipts. Chey gave a statement of the quantities of fruit coming into the warehouses. They got all the funds needed for the advance payment and paid the growers from 4 to 8 cents, depending&#13;
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Sapiro&#13;
on the size and quality. That 4 to 8 cents advance payment paid them was a good deal more than the average that they used to re- ceive for the entire crop for a period of over six years, and almost twice as much as they received for the average of the entire crop for a period of over twelve years. Then, in addition to that, they got the balance of the payments, the average bringing them up to more than 11 cents a pound for the entire year. They got that balance from time to time—1 cent in October, 1 cent in December and so on—until the prunes of the season were sold. That is one system.&#13;
Another system was evolved by one of the wheat associations in 1921. They arranged with some local bankers what the fair loan value on the crop would be. They were business men. They were not speculators. They did not go to the bankers and say: “Give us 90 or 80 percent.” They went in and fixed the amount and the banks said: “ You men are certainly sound.” They arranged for an amount of from $1 to $1.25 a bushel for wheat, depending on the grade.&#13;
Here was the process: The grower delivered his wheat to any public warehouse or any pub- lic elevator. If he delivered it at an elevator he got a so-called grain or wheat ticket show- ing that he had delivered there say 10,000 bushels of No. 1. If he delivered it to the public warehouse he got a warehouse receipt.&#13;
He took the receipt over to the association manager or mailed it in. That was delivery of his crop. The association mailed a regular form (that would be a three- or a six-months’ draft, because those drafts are agricultural paper) for $12,500 to be signed by the grower, and, of course, it was sent to him signed al- ready by the association. If the grower needed money or wanted money—I think the growers always wanted money—he took the draft to the approving local bank. With the draft went a list of bankers that approved the plan. (We insist on the growers dealing with the local banks wherever the local banks will deal with us. The local bank discounts the draft at the current rate—6 or 63 or 7 per cent.) Ifthe draft was a three-months’ draft, as most of them were, the bank deducted its three months at 6 or 63 or 7 per cent. and handed him $12,500, less the discount. The bank then had that draft—which was an in- land trade bill, technically signed by the grower and accepted by the association. At&#13;
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True Farmer Codperation&#13;
the end of the day we sent over to the bank, which notified us that it had the draft, the warehouse receipt cover- ing that transaction. (Or the association may give the draft to the grower with the warehouse re- ceipt attached.) So the bank had that draft signed by the grower and the association, with the warehouse receipt at- tached.&#13;
The grower’s name is worth something because in most cases he is known personally to the banker. And if not, the bank knows there is something behind that, something of value. If the moral value and the grower’s signature are not worth anything, the bank knows the association has not only that man but a great many growers signed up for a_ period of four more years and the bank knows that that is worth something. The banker says he doesn’t care primarily about either. What he cares about is the wheat. He favored a steadied market value and a conservative basis, not at a high basis in a choppy market—because anybody with sense knew that 1920 markets on wheat were not conservative or stable markets, but choppy markets. Here the association and the banks agreed.&#13;
The bank has on hand a paper that is re- discountable by the Federal Reserve Bank by direct written ruling from the Federal Reserve Board. If he is a member of the Federal Reserve system, he discounts direct with the Spokane branch and gets the money. If not, he keeps the paper or sells it to his city cor- respondent. The city correspondent may sell It again, or may discount that paper.&#13;
In financing these codperative associations, no new banking channels have been created,&#13;
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APPLE TREES IN YOSEMITE&#13;
The raisin codperative is more typical of the California plan than the apple codperative, for raisin growers are entirely confined to California&#13;
no banking methods changed, but existing systems have been found adequate to meet every financial emergency experienced by the growers.&#13;
As the responsible guides of the commercial life of America, the bankers should study critically the codperative movement in Amer- ica and adapt the proved principles of suc- cessful codperation to the commodities which they finance. If they want to keep the farmer producing, and to enabe him to adopt a de- cent standard of living and to avoid tenancy, there is only one proved means to accomplish this end.&#13;
But the solving of the financial problems for the growers of our great crops is not the pri- mary accomplishment of codperative market- ing.&#13;
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Aaron Sapiro&#13;
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Our agricultural citizenship has frequently been assailed because of its disregard for the culture and erudition which characterized metropolitan citizenship.&#13;
What spirituality and what unwavering vision must a man possess who clings to some hope of social or commercial opportunities for a family he has not sufficient income to pro- vide with the bare necessities of life!&#13;
What chance is there for cultural develop- ment in a disorganized and undirected popula- tion?&#13;
In sections of the country where this new system of orderly distribution of agricultural products has been introduced the enduring farmer is transformed into a man of accom-&#13;
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A VALLEY OF ORANGE GROVES&#13;
California oranges are common in almost every home in the country. orange association is one of the largest and most effective of all the codperatives&#13;
The&#13;
plished efforts; through better roads, leading to more centralized educational units, through better rural schools with teachers sustained by a suitable recompense, and through an added number of churches injecting higher aims and a sense of social responsibility.&#13;
Money accumulated in a banking institu- tion for the sole purpose of the interest accru- ing is an infirmity; but an increasing bank account helping to realize higher dreams is a moral asset.&#13;
The justification of coéperative marketing is that it has been the means of a more progressive form of living and a superior type of citizenship, as well as an economic remedy.&#13;
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DOUBLING THE GUARDS ON HEALTH&#13;
How Men are Being Trained in the Science of Public Health, and the Work They are Doing in Preventing Epidemics and in Helping the Public to Reduce Disease&#13;
By SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS&#13;
NLY a quarter of a century ago&#13;
a health officer was a doctor&#13;
with a political pull. The&#13;
governor of a state, the mayor&#13;
of a city might, and usually did,&#13;
without special criticism, choose some party&#13;
henchman or appoint his own family physician&#13;
as guardian of the general health. The in-&#13;
cumbent would probably be quite as fit as the&#13;
average possibility for a position the require-&#13;
ments of which were as vague as they were&#13;
meagre. About all that was expected or&#13;
demanded of a health official was that he&#13;
should abate an occasional nuisance and tack&#13;
up a few quarantine signs in case of epidemic.&#13;
He was, as a rule, hardly more than an emer-&#13;
gency officer who generally did not know what to do when the emergency came.&#13;
How could he be more? There was at that time no science of public health in the general sense; hardly, indeed, anything worthy to be called a system. The politicians who con- trolled these minor offices, as they were then regarded, cared little about the responsibilities of the positions, not so much from callousness as from ignorance. The public demanded nothing in the way of scientific efficiency; it was quite uneducated in public hygiene. If the medical world had inklings of the potenti- alities inhering in concerted preventive effort, the enlightenment was confined to a small and high-thinking minority and was too unsystematized to percolate generally through the profession, still less down to the public. The sanitary and hygienic history of the nineties and even the early nineteen hundreds, has, from a modern viewpoint, more than a touch of the medieval.&#13;
It is written in the murderous typhoid mortality of the Spanish-American War camps, a loss which would have been reduced to almost zero by either a modern system of Immunization or a competent practice of Sanitary engineering with reference to the flies&#13;
    &#13;
which were the principal disseminators of the scourge; in the barbarous shotgun quaran- tines maintained by the yellow fever ravaged states of the South until Louistana, by a combination of science, common sense, and courage wiped out its epidemic and forever laid that terror; in the vicious suppressions, concealments, and deceptions of the bubonic plague panic on the Pacific coast; in the unreasoning frenzies caused by the occasional discovery in Massachusetts or Ohio or Oregon of some unfortunate and quite harmless leper and his subsequent persecution in the ancient spirit of witch-baiting, while unreckoned and unheeded thousands of tuberculous subjects spread the poison of consumption abroad without restriction; in the smugly horrified prudery which labelled venereal disease, with all its potencies of public damage, “ private”’ and decreed that it should not be even dis- cussed outside of Star Chamber proceedings; in the lightly contemptuous disregard of so harmful an infection as measles with its all- too-frequent sequels of impairment of sight and hearing or of serious and lasting affections of the heart and kidneys; and, lastly, in its total blindness to the almost universal problems of nutrition in its effect upon the growing child.&#13;
Yet out of that system, or lack of system, there developed, by the arduous processes of self-training, such health officers as Chapin of Providence, Walcott of Massachusetts, Goler of Rochester, N. Y., Dixon of Pennsylvania, Biggs of New York, Bracken of Minnesota, Blue of Washington, Dowling of Louisiana, and the group of men who laid the foun- dations of the present admirably competent U. S. Public Health Service. What these men learned they got by work in the field and interchange of experience. Out of their endeavors and the application of their hard- acquired technique there arose a broadened and intensified conception of what a public&#13;
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health official should be and what equipment he should have at his command for the proper exercise of his functions. Associations were formed, and lectures upon subjects which belonged definitely in the realm of public health began to creep into a few medical courses; but, so far as | can discover, there was until quite recently no recognition in any American medical school curriculum that a public health officer should have training in any important way differing from that which went to the making of a private phy- sician. UNIVERSITY TRAINING&#13;
HE establishment of a special course in&#13;
public hygiene and sanitation at the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania little more than a decade ago marks the second step. Harvard, Columbia, Michigan, California, and other institutions followed, offering practical courses under competent experts; but none of these was comprehensive nor, so to speak, self-containing. All tended to overlap too much the regular medical course. None had satisfactory resources for original research and investigation into the continually arising problems which the warfare against disease brings up. True, public health experts were being graduated with an equipment both more compact and more extensive than had before been available, and these were quickly absorbed by a demand which was always in advance of the supply, but even these men were not trained in a degree answering to the newer and more explicit requirements which ' were already in process of formulation. The test came when the International Health Board of the Rockefeller Foundation began to look about with a view to organizing a personnel for its projected campaigns.&#13;
The tremendous achievement of the Inter- national Health Board in its investigation of and warfare against the hookworm, with incalculable physiological and economic bene- fits to the infested region, showed for the first time in concrete results what could be accom- plished through concerted effort on a large scale by a corps of scientists having back of them unlimited resources for the carrying through of a specific medical campaign. Suc- cess in this beginning suggested logically the possibilities in similar campaigns against other and more difficult and obscure forms of communicable disease; to take one group, for&#13;
Samuel Hopkins Adams&#13;
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example, the commonly recurrent epidemics. k Plenty of problems lay ready to hand, both in [ this and other fields; the International Health Board was free to choose its field of battle; the armament for the fight would be forth- coming; what was needed was the men. Now, the business apothegm that “if you’ve got the price you can always find the man” does not apply in the field of medical science. There was available “the price’ to any needful extent, but where were the specially trained hygienists and sanitarians in numbers sufficient to carry out the programme? Such of them as met or approached the required standards were already in official positions from which they could not be detached with- out serious detriment to the public interest. The medical schools having departments specializing on public health were not turning out graduates fast enough to fill the quota [7 to which the International Health Board was looking forward as its plans should develop. |~ The Board summoned to its aid a score of the ' leading medical scientists and sociologists in [7 the country, who held a conference to de- |) cide what was to be done. F That conference, differing internally though it did on minor phases of procedure, came to unanimous agreement upon one salient point, the lack of a sufficient force of adequately trained public health service men and the im- mediate need of a school of public health of the highest standard, connected with a university and medical school, and having for its nucleus an institute of hygiene. Out of that grew the School of Public Health and Hygiene of Johns Hopkins University with an endowment of five million dollars from the Rockefeller Foundation, to be used not only for the edu- | cation of public health experts, but also for © research and investigation along any lines \ which may contribute to the solution of the © manifold problems of the fight against disease. } Broadly stated the main purpose of the school is so to train its candidates for the degree of Doctor of Public Health that they shall be competent to meet both the normal demands of health administration, Federal, state, county, or municipal, and the special diffi- 9 culties arising from epidemic onsets or emer FF gency conditions. I think it is not too much |&#13;
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to say that the man who graduates to-day from that institution with his degree oI | D.P.H. is, if he has made the most of the opportunities afforded him, the most compre &gt;&#13;
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hensively trained medical type anywhere to be found. As nearly as errant human nature can approximate perfection, he should be the ideal health officer.&#13;
So broad is the scope of the new public health training that it is much simpler to state what lies outside it than what lies within. The degenerative ailments, heart disease, kidney troubles, most of the stomach affections, nerve derangements, the special ills of old age; these are problems beyond the reach of public medicine, to be handled by the private physician. With cancer, even though it is the most portentous element in the general death rate with its stubborn and inexplicable increase, the official health guardian can do nothing beyond lending his aid to the campaign of education looking to early diagnosis and operation, since the basis of knowledge as to the cause of it is insuffi- cient. Mental diseases and the ever-present problem of the defective child lie in a debat- able ground between public hygiene and purely individual treatment, as did tubercu- losis and venereal disease for years until, perceiving that private medicine was making no perceptible advance against the “white’”’ and the “red’’ plagues, the forces of public health took possession of that No Man’s Land in the present campaign of education and prevention. Surgery, of course, is a separate science.&#13;
With the few and narrow exceptions noted, practically all the major ills that flesh is heir to, challenge the modern health officer. As experience and research develop more and more the nature and sources of communicable diseases on the one hand, and on the other define the causative influences which, through environment, occupation, or diet undermine individual vitality and thus affect adversely the well-being of the community, his equip- ment must needs be the more complex and thorough. A study of the School of Hygiene circular presents subjects which, to the lay mind, would seem widely alien to any medi- cal practice. Why, for instance, should the physician in charge of a city give his time to the study of a mathematical subject such as Statistics, or perfect himself in the purely natural science of entomology? The matter of statistics is, however, fundamental. The very foundation of a health-protective system Is accurate knowledge of the dangers to be combatted. Up to recent years most of our&#13;
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vital statistics have been a hodge-podge of approximations, evasions, and guess work vitiated by the perverted civic ambition of those in authority to “make a good showing”’ or to appear (not to be) “the healthiest city in the state.’ There are at least two cities in the West whose claims led them into such deliberate juggling of figures that for years their low official death rate was a joke among experts, the country over. (The figures subsequently rose, but I have yet to find any one who believes the communities less healthy than before.) The graduate of the new institution will go forth with sufficient sta- tistical knowledge to enable him to ascertain from what causes and to what extent the public under his care has died in past years, and hence to determine in what direction his efforts at future guardianship should be ad- dressed. In the statistical department of the school there is now being carried on an in- vestigation of tuberculosis on the side of heredity. To complete it will take years of patient gathering and compiling of detail, but when the work is done it may well result in knowledge of the persistent incidence of the “white plague,”’ at present so little controlled in spite of the best that legislation and edu- cation can do, from which will develop new possibilities of control. If there are “con- sumption families,’’ as we used erroneously to believe that there were “cancer houses,” a knowledge of what and where they are would clearly help in protecting their environ- ment.&#13;
HOW MALARIA IS CURBED&#13;
UPPOSE the newly graduated Doctor of Public Health finds himself in charge of a district with a high malaria rate. Here comes in his training in entomology, for the problem of malaria is purely a mosquito problem. Only through the bite of the anopheles mos- quito is the fever transmitted. If he can control the breeding of the pestilential insect he can eradicate the disease. Such control may be a matter of yard-to-yard inspection, for the anopheles will breed in almost any stagnant water, whether in a cistern or a forgotten tomato can which has been allowed to gather rain. Or it may call for a display of sanitary engineering as well as of entomo- logical knowledge. If the infested com-&#13;
munity is bordered with swamps, the natural hatcheries of the pests, then the eradication&#13;
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of the insects involves either the drainage of the marshy places or such treatment of them, by coatings of oil, that the larva of the mos- quito cannot reach the surface and so liberate herself for her fever-bearing mission. There have been cases where a health official with thorough knowledge of his subject has con- vinced his community that eradication of the swamps was not only an advisable hygienic measure but was also economically profitable through the use of the reclaimed land.&#13;
DANGER FROM FLIES&#13;
HE fly is a universal foe to health. It has&#13;
been indubitably proved to be the chief agent in the spread of typhoid fever, next to water and milk, and there is at least a possi- bility that it is influential in disseminating some forms of intestinal trouble. I have already spoken of the high mortality of the Spanish-American war caused by the plague of flies in the camps. As a contrast I recall the medical training camp, Greenleaf, as | saw it in the crowded times of the late war. Flies were not much more common there than bald eagles, and the rare appearance of one in kitchen, mess hall, or sleeping quarters was the cause of consternation born of the knowl- edge that discovery by the inspection officer would result in a specially black mark. It is superfluous to say that Camp Greenleaf was untroubled by typhoid except for a few cases that came in from outside. As for malaria, | never saw a mosauito within the limits of the camp.&#13;
Every community has its potential sani- tary engineering demands in the wardership of its water supply and its sewage systems; therefore the Johns Hopkins school lays special weight upon this topic. Years ago, before Pittsburgh redeemed itself from its unsavory reputation of being the champion typhoid city of America, there came up there, in the course of one of its recurrent epidemics, a typical little mystery. In a fashionable section of the city which had heeded the warnings against the polluted city water, a definite outbreak of typhoid occurred, ran its course and subsided. Subsequent investi- gation developed the interesting fact that the cases ran through the clientele of a local grocer who had been specializing in “pure spring water” which he bottled and sold to his patrons. In nearly every household to which that water went, one or more cases of&#13;
Samuel Hopkins Adams&#13;
typhoid appeared. The grocer admitted under pressure that the water came froma spring in his own cellar which had provi- dentially (so he considered) made its appear- ance not long before. The spring was traced and found to be an outcropping from a leak in the main sewer of the locality, slightly filtered through some intervening soil! The discovery was considered to be, and actually was in those days, a shrewd bit of detective work. But a modernized health department, having a general typhoid epidemic onits hands (which it is most unlikely that it would have) would, with its day to day statistical returns and spot maps and its engineering knowledge of the ground, almost infallibly have dis- covered and aborted that outbreak before it had run its course.&#13;
The new Doctor of Public Health will have a special training in chemistry because he may at any time be called upon to cope with an outbreak of poisoning from improperly canned or preserved foods. He is equipped with a practical knowledge of the technique of bacteriology since adequate protection of the milk and water which may at any time be- come polluted and bear disease, requires that he be able to detect these conditions. Zodl- ogy comes within his scope, for he must be familiar, particularly if his duties call him to a tropical or semi-tropical region, with the internal parasites which prey upon the hu- man race, some of them, such as the hook- worm, exercising an immensely important and adverse influence upon the health and vitality of wide areas. As the local school children are, to a greater or less extent, dependent upon him for guardianship of their welfare during the hours in which they are public wards, he will familiarize himself with the subjects of diet, nutrition, and the prob- lems of air, light, and exercise which so intimately affect the progress of the growing child. Industrial hygiene will be an allied subject, as he is charged with part responsi- bility, in many communities, for working conditions in factories and workshops. In Chicago there is now a special sub-department of the Health Department called the Bureau of Air Conditions for Schools and Industries. Even though our new-type public physician be educating himself especially for city work, he will nevertheless be trained in the field study of certain country hygienic problems, for the country sends its diseases to the cit)&#13;
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in bad milk, polluted raw vegetables, or unfit meat. One case of ill-guarded scarlet fever, typhoid, or diphtheria about a dairy may bring on an epidemic outbreak in a city two or three hundred miles away.&#13;
But by far the most important and the most hopefully developing phase of the new training is in the department of epidemiology with its allied subjects of immunization, quarantine methods, and the advancing technique of diagnosis and cure. Here the greatest efforts are being made and the most definite advances are being registered, not- withstanding which there is still the most to be done both in investigation of the spread of the diseases and in the practical strategy of prevention. Fairly or unfairly (generally the latter) a medical officer is judged by his community according to his success in hand- ling the emergency strain of an epidemic. In fact, it usually requires the startling lesson of one of these outbreaks to bring home to the average citizen the fact that his local health administration may be a vital influence upon his individual life; an agency to which he has a right to look for protection and to which he owes support and loyalty. One of the greatest of public health experts once said to me of his own city:&#13;
“We shall never get our death rate down to a satisfactory level until a whacking big epidemic hits us.”&#13;
By which apparent paradox he meant that the public could be taught respect for hygienic laws and regulations only by the scourging lesson of a widespread infection. The epi- demic came, as it always does sooner or later in such conditions. The death rate went up. After the attack was over, the rate dropped to its formal normal, then began to subside little by little below it and from then on it has slowly but steadily decreased. The city had had its costly but necessary lesson.&#13;
Taking this country as a whole, the epi- demic disease which is at once the most destructive and the most steadily recurrent is diphtheria. At the same time it is the infection about which the most is known. The organism which causes it has been long identified and minutely studied. The method of communication is understood. There is a test determining natural or acquired im- munity on the part of the individual and a somewhat less definite but nevertheless valu- able method of conferring immunity by&#13;
IOI&#13;
treatment. Finally, anti-toxin is the most valuable and effectual cure known to medi- cal practice with the possible exception of the anti-syphilitic drugs. Before its general use, diphtheria epidemics raged with a virulence sometimes approaching that of cholera and with a percentage of deaths among the stricken almost as high. Anti-toxin enor- mously reduced the death rate from this cause. Census figures for 1900 show that there were 44 deaths from diphtheria for every 100,000 of population. In 1919 this formidable figure had been reduced to 17.7. Gratifying though this would appear, hygienists are far from satisfied with the showing. They compare the figures with those of another “conquer- able” disease, typhoid, which shows a re- duction from 31.3 per 100,000 in 1900 to 4.8 in 1919, and point to the further fact that while typhoid is decreasing steadily with every year, diphtheria, after the marked drop due to the anti-toxin cures, has recently re- mained almost stationary. Why, they ask themselves, since they have full knowledge of the nature of the disease and are armed with both curative and preventive agencies, has medical science not made greater inroads upon it, as great, for example, as upon typhoid? It is logical, then, that one of the first campaigns of research by the School of Hygiene should be directed to the end of further knowledge upon this widely impor- tant subject.&#13;
THE ‘‘ CARRIER”&#13;
ET me here point out, as I have already in- dicated, that no other medical agency has&#13;
ever had at its command such resources for this kind of study. Diphtheria epidemics have been studied on the ground, in the tur- moil and confusion of the emergency, and much of value has been elicited; but no pub- lic health department or private medica! organization has ever had the time or money to go back of the epidemic conditions and determine the conditions precedent to the outbreak or consequent upon it, until the research now in progress. For two years a skilled and experienced epidemiologist, work- ing in conjunction with the Baltimore Health Department, has been making a most detailed study of the population with reference to diphtheria, and has thus far made discoveries regarding that “unknown quantity” of all&#13;
epidemics, the carrier, which should havea&#13;
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102 Samuel Hopkins Adams&#13;
lasting influence upon the handling of future onsets. Seven hundred cases of the disease were actually studied during the epidemic. After it had subsided seventy-seven hundred school children were examined and cultures taken from their throats or noses, an exami- nation more thorough and extensive than any other previously made in this country. An astonishing number of carriers of the disease were found. A carrier, in the epidemiological sense, is a person who, without himself being demonstrably ill, preserves the active organ- isms of a communicable disease within him. He may be a recovered case, or a so-called walking case, as in “walking typhoid,”” who for weeks or even months harbors the virulent bacilli; or he may be one who has come into contact with an active case and has acquired the bacilli without exhibiting immediate symptoms, or he may be that most difficult, dangerous, and common type, one who is immune to the infection, and so, without damage to himself or outward evidence of the disease bears with him everywhere the poison which, communicated to others through a chance sneeze or cough or contact, will infect them. The Baltimore survey, made at three different periods, brought to light the fact that in November and December, the months of the greatest normal prevalence of diph- theria, more than 3 per cent. of the school children were carriers; in February and March, about 13 per cent., while in June the number dropped below 1 per cent. That is to say, for the greater part of the year there is an average of at least one active focus of diphtheria to every school in the city. Thus the old theory that a city which has ap- parently been free from diphtheria and suffers an onset must necessarily have been infected from outside is relegated to the category of long-accepted error. Our cities are ap- parently never free from the disease in its latent or carrier form.&#13;
Having determined the seasonal prevalence of carriers, the Baltimore experts reasoned that the most favorable period for setting up a defence would be in August and September, because from six weeks to three or four months is required to build up immunity by injections of toxin-anti-toxin. The city authorities designated twenty nurses for a month’s intensive work in one ward; a house to house canvass was made, all parents were urged to&#13;
have their children immunized, public edu-&#13;
 &#13;
cational meetings were held and immunization clinics established. What the results of all this will be it is still too early to determine. But if there is another diphtheria visitation and Ward 7 shows definitely lower figures than the other districts, the case will have been proved.&#13;
When diphtheria has been finished with, there will remain the more difficult epidemic ailments of the “filterable virus” group, caused and communicated through organisms beyond the range of the most powerful micro- scope; measles, smallpox, scarlet fever, infan- tile paralysis, trachoma, and rabies being among the most important. Eventually the blindest trail of all will probably be followed, influenza of the pandemic type which during the War swept the world with a mortality beside which that of the War itself was in- considerable. Thus far medical science has failed as signally in prevention as in cure of the “flu’”’.&#13;
CHILD HYGIENE&#13;
ERE general protection of the public will not suffice for the new hygiene. It ex- tends its endeavors to improving the type by building up the individual power of resistance. This is chiefly a matter of nutrition and child hygiene. One of the promising forms of research along these lines is that dealing with the widespread condition known as rickets. Rickets does not figure conspicuously in the mortality rates because it is rarely a direct cause of death. But its malign traces are to be found in school inspection reports where the after effects show them- selves in the roster of the undersized, under- developed, physically or mentally defective children. To say that 50 per cent. of Ameri- can children above the age of five have had rickets in a greater or less degree is a con- servative estimate. Most of them overcome the defect. Those who do not, carry into after life the various handicaps of bad jaws and teeth, flat chest, broken arches, and a general super-liability to whatever form of disease may threaten them.&#13;
A recent survey of the Baltimore schools shows between twenty and thirty children out of. every hundred who are 10 per cent. or more below normal for their ages. This is not, as might be supposed, a condition typical of those schools drawing from a slum populace, but is general, the best residence&#13;
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Doubling the Guards on Health 103&#13;
districts producing about the same percentage of deficiency as the poorest. There is no reason to suppose that Baltimore is not typical both as regards incidence and distri- bution of the disease. The problem is uni- versal.&#13;
It is mostly a question of nutrition; not simply, as has long been assumed, of under- feeding. A child may get a sufficient quantity of food, may indeed be overfed, and yet if certain elements be lacking to the ration he will develop rachitic symptoms. Here is one of the few instances in which cure is probably more practicable than prevention, for the preventive measures would have to be taken at the very early ages before the child comes under expert observation. Once in school, however, and discovered by the inspection system, which is, on the whole, very effec- tive in American schools, the procedure is simple. Experiments with rats now being carried on in the School of Hygiene show that there are two agencies of cure which, taken together, suffice for all but the deepest-rooted cases; one a type of soluble fat such as is contained in the cod liver oils, the other exposure to sunlight. Some cases of ad- vanced rickets in the rodent subjects have been corrected by the sunlight treatment alone. There remains only to apply this to the human subject. It may take five years or ten or twenty for the lessons thus acquired to permeate our school systems through the influence of the trained experts but eventu- ally the nation will benefit from the effects in a decrease of the lamentably common type of weaklings and spindlings who totter along into adult life to breed children as enfeebled as themselves.&#13;
A CASE FROM CHINA&#13;
HE research departments of the schools&#13;
draw to them for the acquisition of special instruction men who have long been in the field of public health. One of these, a missionary doctor from China, brought with him his own special problem in a very inti- mate sense. He had been stationed in the Han-kow district, a river region where a common intestinal fluke wreaks havoc upon the populace. This parasite, though not zodlogically allied to the hookworm, has much the same effect upon its victims, rendering&#13;
them anemic, low in vitality, and in many cases causing a lingering death. No scien- tific study had ever been made of the organ- ism, nor was there anywhere in China the equipment necessary to this form of research. Accordingly the missionary doctor wrote to the Johns Hopkins School of Hygiene asking if they would undertake the work. They replied that they would if they could be pro- vided with the necessary specimens of the fluke. The enthusiast then deliberately in- fested himself with a small number of the parasites and made the long journey to Balti- more bringing them with him. With the experts of the department of helminthology he worked out the life cycle of the creature, for the first time incubating the eggs into larvae under scientific inspection. It was determined that the parasite develops in a “host” before being transmitted to the hu- man interior, probably some one of the several forms of shellfish which form a chief article of diet in the Han-Kow region. The devotee of science, having himself been cured, has returned to China to experiment with the various molluscs of the local waters planting the larvae in them and holding them under observation until he ascertains in which species they develop. The rest is simply a matter of guarding the populace against eat- ing the infected species, and the district will be freed from an increasing peril.&#13;
The guardian of the public health, no matter how advanced and well equipped, is obviously not going to defeat death. Nor is it to be expected that he will eliminate disease and bring about a quasi-millenium in which no one dies except of old age. But with the new knowledge which is slowly and pains- takingly being garnered for his benefit, with the growing armament of preventive and defensive medicine at his command, we may reasonably look to him to restrict little by little those forms of illness, whether epidemic or endemic, which destroy the young and hamper or devitalize those in the prime of life, since most of these are demonstrably and all of them theoretically preventable. It can- not be accomplished without the sympathy and intelligent support of the community at large. For the best ally of hygienic science is an educated and health-respecting public.&#13;
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A TRIP AMONG MY ISLANDS&#13;
Further Adventures of an American Governor in the Southern Philippines&#13;
By LIEUT.-COL. SYDNEY A. CLOMAN&#13;
‘The author of these articles is a lieutenant-colonel of the United States Army, retired. His vivid and humorous narrative makes not only a lively true tale of adveniure but also a remark- able picture of the very buman methods by which our colonial administrators have made a record second lo none for their success in handling backward peoples and carrying to them modern ideas&#13;
of law and social frogress—TuHE Epirors.&#13;
HORTLY after my first durbar, | sent a messenger around with a noti- fication that | intended visiting each of the islands in the group. I more and more realized the difficulty of&#13;
my task in maintaining order among. this strange, fierce people—“ half devil and half child’”’—under the conditions laid down, and | early saw that the power of a great nation at a distance administered through a strange officer meant nothing to them, and it was only by intimate personal contact, knowl- edge of their customs and methods of thought, in fact, by becoming one of their own chiefs, that | could be successful. In making this journey, | could do one of two things: Either take with me a force sufficent to overawe the populous communities and make the whole expedition safe, or go with only a couple of men to handle the boat and trust to this dis- play of confidence in them to see me through. In the old days, any Spaniard outside of the Bongao block-house was fair game, and only a few of the islands had ever been visited even in force. | already had notified the chiefs that we intended travelling through the is- lands with perfect freedom, and if there were any picnics consisting of the shooting up of towns and yelling defiance after nightfall we would do it ourselves, while they would play the party of the second part. Someone had to start the new dispensation, so | concluded to take only Miller and Gibbons to handle the boat, and of course take along Datto Tanton as guide and official introducer. | also con- cluded to break the journey in two parts, one among the southern islands in the Whitehall boat, then a return to Bongao and a change to a large native prau for the rougher and longer trip among the northern islands of the group.&#13;
On this expedition we were always aware of the beauties that surrounded us in a tropic world where only man is vile; but one loses sight of the beauty of a coral reef after spend- ing half the night trying to get back to deep water after grounding on the submerged flat that extends for miles; the song of the mos- quito will obliterate all the soft sounds of na- ture except the resultant profanity, and one’s ecstasies over an ylang-ylang tree in full bloom will be tempered if the local béche-de-mer is being dried to windward. The events con- nected with the visit to a native village were in general similar:—beating around a wooded point that gradually unveiled the village; the thunder of the sweet-toned Malay gongs; entering the sheltered cove, dropping the sail and manning the oars; the gradual approach to the village, built out on tall piles, thus giv- ing the tides a chance at the sewage; the flocking of the entire population to the beach to await our landing, headed by their chiefs; and we are there. Then the greetings and the walk to the house of the principal chief, followed by the entire highly colored crowd, the approach to the raised and canopied dais at the end of every chief’s hall, and the cere- monious offering of the place of honor at the head to myself, the seating of all the chiefs below me—and the conference is on. Us- ually as many of the inhabitants as possible crowd in and stand with mouth agape while we talk; for a chief’s house seems to be about as private as a town hall. 1! will speak only&#13;
of the few variations in this programme.&#13;
I ostentatiously carried a .45 Colt’s revolver in my belt, more as a badge of office than any- thing else, and always created a profound sensation by rising from the dais, going to a distant part of the hall and hanging it on the wall before the conference began, and paying&#13;
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A Trip Among My Islands 105&#13;
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In the Sulu Archipelago, typical of many built on piles along the shore line. The rising and falling tides fortunately serve as a sewage disposal system&#13;
no further attention to it. This sign of per- fect confidence in my dearly beloved people always caused a murmur of appreciation. But they were not aware that the cartridges in the revolver thus so confidently entrusted to them were blanks, while concealed in my blue flannel shirt was a .32 Smith &amp; Wesson with something more practical in the cylin- ders. Of course, had anything ever started, | would have been hacked to pieces at once, so it is well that it never did; still it would have given me some satisfaction to have had a young sport pull down the .45 and open on me with blanks while | bestowed upon Fim some- thing real from the Smith &amp; Wesson.&#13;
Our visit to the large town of Tubigindag- gan was somewhat unique, in that we did not arrive until late at night, after all the in- habitants had turned in. The tide was flood, so we sailed alongside the chief’s house, and entered directly his great hall. He hastily caused lights to be brought, installed me as usual on the great dais, and presented his wife and sister-in-law. In the meantime, the town had wakened up, although the hall for a wonder was not invaded. Finally the voices of children outside became so strident that | asked the chief what it was all about. He then informed me that the children had never seen a white man and that they were pleading&#13;
to be allowed to enter and see the show, and for this he apologized. | then asked him to open the doors and give them their treat, and at once the hall was crowded to the doors. I do not think | have ever been so self-con- scious. | sat cross-legged on the dais like the tatooed man in a sideshow with a sea of shin- ing eves below me, that silently and breath- lessly noted every movement and expression; and while | tried to keep up an intelligent conversation with the chief and appear un- embarrassed, the strain became too great and I. was speedily compelled to indicate that the show was over. He cleared the room with a word, and | was again left alone with the family. ;&#13;
The chief was a modest, handsome, and intelligent young man who had recently made the pilgrimage to Mecca, hence the&#13;
“Hadji’’ took precedence over his other titles. The sister-in-law was as bright and&#13;
prepossessing as it is possible for a female Moro to be, and Tanton told me that she had recently left her husband, so I asked Hadji Halimon about her history. Such _ inde- pendence in one of her sex was quite uncom- mon. She was the daughter of Panglima Jeffol, the chief of Buan Island, a powerful and brutal man who had married her off, when ridiculously young, to a rich old man who was&#13;
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106&#13;
one of his pals and mainstays. When she finally left her sodden old lord and master and took refuge with her sister, Jeffol was enraged at the idea of returning the large sum paid for her, and threatened trouble. When | asked Halimon about divorce, he said it would be impossible before the lapse of three years, and even then she would have to return to her father and be resold, probably to some other wretched old capitalist. Knowing the power and brutal character of his father-in- law, this all gave Halimon much concern and he feared trouble.&#13;
He was perfectly correct about the trouble, and | might as well finish the story here. Some weeks afterward the girl fell in love with a decent young Moro, and Halimon, in his religious capacity, was prevailed upon to perform the marriage ceremony. Soon after- ward a spy reported to him that Jeffol was organizing an expedition to carry fire and sword against his town. It was hopeless to resist, so with his family, the newly wedded couple and a few servants, he foolishly took to his boats and sailed for British North Borneo. In the meantime, he sent me a messenger with the news, and begged me to save the innocent people of Tubigindaggan from extinction. |&#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman&#13;
was thoroughly angry about this whole affair. Jeffol was a stubborn and headstrong man, who was already in my black books for a number of small disloyalties, and so, as rapidly as possible, | sent a message to the people of Tubigindaggan to come to Bongao under my protection, and one to Jeffol that if he did not report to me at Bongao within twenty- four hours, or if he started out an armed expedition without my authority, | would move against his island at once. He delayed his expedition and reported at Bongao within the time limit. He was sullen and threaten- ing, and | must admit that | handled him without gloves. | assured him that he would be summarily shot if he injured any of Hali- mon’s family or friends, and that if he had any complaint against them it should be laid before me for judgment. |! took up the mat- ter of his petty disloyalty and disobedience in the past, and told him what he was, at some length. Tanton was present at the in- terview, and when | ended up my summation of the Panglima’s character, the latter turned to him and hissed, “I will kill him for that!” | did not understand the expression, but Tanton sprang to his feet and grabbed a heavy barong from among my trophies on the&#13;
wall. Later, Tanton&#13;
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A MORO DATTO OF MINDANAO The people of Mindanao are very similar to those of the Sulu Islands, which It was to visit the principal dattos of his district that Colonel Cloman made the journey described herein&#13;
are scattered south and west of Mindanao.&#13;
asked me never to use any expression coupled with the word “pig’’ to a Moro chief when | was unarmed. The interview ended by my circum- scribing his powers, as- suring him that he would be under constant sur- veillance, and ordering him to report to me each Sunday morning to ren- der an account of his stewardship. In case of further trouble, he was to lose his property and chieftaincy and be ban- ished from the group. This ended that phase of the matter but he was never a very cheerful week-end visitor.&#13;
As for Halimon and his party. On their way to Borneo, they stopped at Sibutu Island and&#13;
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A Trip Among My Islands 107&#13;
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A MORO SPEAR DANCE These Moros are natives of Zamboanga, the southernmost town in Mindanao&#13;
were invited to have the delayed wedding feast in a friendly chief’s house. They went armed, of course, not knowing how closely they were pursued, and the bridegroom placed his rifle close behind him and leaning against a heavy red curtain that divided the room in half. During the feast the young couple were joked about the fact that since their marriage they had been so busy escap- ing with their lives that they had not yet kissed. Of course such a thing in public was unheard of, but it seems that the bridegroom rose to the occasion and straightway seized upon his bride who sat on a cushion next to him. There was a short struggle amid screams of laughter, the rifle fell to the floor and was discharged, and the bullet went squarely through the heart of the little bride. It is of interest to know that the charge of murder was included when the delectable Jeffol finally submitted his bill of particulars. All | could do was to place the bereaved hus- band under my protection, and during the remainder of my stay in the islands he lived at Sibutu in a thatched shelter over her grave, which was daily covered with fresh blossoms and flowers.&#13;
To return to my visit to Halimon. After a peaceful night’s sleep on the dais, | was aroused by my host with the modest state- ment that his women knew nought of our food and method of cooking, and he was afraid that | could not find the breakfast which was&#13;
about to be served very appetizing. He was right.&#13;
A servant brought in an immense brass tray crowded with small dishes containing cooked fish, chicken, eggs, and rice, while another brought the ewer of water and nap- kin with which the hands are washed before and after the meal. I wanted to be polite and appreciative and “messed about” in a vain effort to find something warranted to stay down, but it was impossible. It is diffi- cult to spoil an egg, but scrambling it in rancid cocoanut oil will do the trick. Aftera dissertation on the American habit of fasting in the morning, | put in a couple of hours in conference with the chiefs, and then sailed on my way. The utter recklessness with which our young and healthy crew then plied hatchets on our cans of rations may be ima- gined.&#13;
During our swing through the southern islands, | visited Sibutu. This was the southernmost of the Philippines and only 9 miles from Borneo. It was left out of con- sideration at the Treaty of Paris, and the meridian bounding our possessions by that treaty passed between it and Bongoa. When&#13;
this was discovered later, a new arrangement was necessary, for Germany was in the market for anything that had escaped us and it was very undesirable that she should be inter- jected between ourselves and the British pos- sessions on the south and furthermore com-&#13;
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108 Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman&#13;
mand this narrow strait leading from the Asiatic coast to Australia. A short time be- fore, a gun boat had brought me a dispatch announcing its purchase by us and directing me to assume charge of it and add it to my troubles. It is a very prosperous community by reason of the pearl fisheries and other sea products and the principal village contains about four hundred inhabitants. The island is surrounded by a coral flat from the edge of which the sounding line drops to 600 feet, so there is no anchorage except for small boats. Near the centre of the island the arch of an underground river of especially pure water has broken through, and this is believed by the natives to come from Borneo. When children are drowned in it, the parents row to sea about three miles to the east, and there sometimes the bodies come to the surface and are re- covered. The strait between Sibutu and Bongao is known to Moros as “The Black Water” and is very dangerous. During cer- tain seasons of the year the water rushes through it like a mill race, and only the light- est craft with good sails and many oars dare&#13;
to try to make the passage. Once while | was at Bongao, a canoe with three men was swept back and forth for eleven days before they reached land, and as they had water for but one day, their condition when rescued was pitiable indeed. My visit was unevent- ful and the announcement that they had changed masters did not disturb them at all, the general idea being that of the young ladies in the Floradora sextette——‘‘| must love someone truly, and it might as well be you.” Little | thought during this pleasant visit that I should later become the Nemesis of this island; but a few months later there was one of those complicated, senseless, and bloody affrays there in which, as usual, some innocent people who were in no way concerned lost their lives. All the chiefs were implicated and | sent a messenger across the Black Water with the demand that they all come in and be tried. They quibbled about it and finally flatly refused to come. Because of the con-&#13;
dition of the strait at this time, I did not dare trust an expedition on it in heavy boats, so simply replied that when the next steamer&#13;
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THE INTERIOR OF A MORO HOUSE&#13;
With the inhabitants playing their native musical instruments. In such houses as this Colonel Cloman was entertained by the dattos he visited&#13;
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A Trip Among My&#13;
Islands&#13;
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A MORO HOUSE IN&#13;
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THE SULU&#13;
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ISLANDS&#13;
Similar to the one Colonel Cloman approached late one night, tying his boat up at the front door and rousing the occupants. When he had been received by the datto, he gave permission for the children, who had never seen a white man, to enter, and sat “‘like the tattooed man in a side show”’ while they gazed in wide eyed wonder&#13;
came in | would transport justice to them. A week or so later one of the Maritima steam- ers came in and | loaded fifty soldiers and a couple of machine guns on her, and went over to straighten matters out. When we went on shore, leaving the steamer under way in the swift water off the coral flat, there was not one living inhabitant of the village left on the island except a lame goat that came out of the jungle and met us at the water’s edge. | soon learned that upon receipt of my message the entire population had loaded all movable effects on their boats and departed for the Darvel Bay region of Borneo. The wild people there surrounded them and they were limited to a stockade on the beach. They were dreadfully homesick for the flesh pots of Sibutu, and a messenger was continually being sent over with pleas for forgiveness. My answer was always the same as my first— come back and be tried. They remained in Borneo until many months later I was re-&#13;
lieved by another officer, whom I had told about the case. After another series of messages with the same replies, they could stand their exile no longer, took a chance on the new man, and returned. They were then tried for their misdeeds, some severe punish- ments awarded and proper provision made for the usual widows and orphans.&#13;
On the way back to Bongao, | stopped at the island of Manuk-Manoa where there had recently been a strange affair. A large and diversified family had gone into the jungle to collect firewood and as each bundle of faggots was completed it was bound with bejuco vine and left in place while they went deeper into the jungle for more. In the mean- time another family had gone out for a similar purpose. When Family No. 1 returned to collect their bundles and carry them to the village, they found Family No. 2 had found and claimed as their own one of the bundles cut early in the morning. This caused a&#13;
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110 Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman&#13;
violent altercation which finally developed into a fair-sized donnybrook with faggots for weapons. A scion of the first family, aged eleven, was caught in the midst of the mélée and unfortunately this precocious youth had one of the chopping knives used in the jungle. He was scared to death, so simply shut his eyes and lashed out at any one that ran into him. When the dust of conflict blew away, it was found out that his execution had been truly abnormal. No less than niné of the party, friend and foe, bore the marks of his knife, including a man with his arm almost slashed off at the shoulder, and his own mother with a gash across her back seven inches long. The culprit who was a wide-eyed, prepossess- ing youth was still scared to death about what his fate would be, but both families said that his fright alone was responsible, seemed to be very good friends and told their stories laugh- ingly as a joke on the boy. There seemed to be nothing to do but read one of my usual lectures to all hands, but | am afraid that | grinned while | was doing it.&#13;
After | had visited each of the southern islands, | returned to Bongao for the larger and more seaworthy prau and continued my&#13;
journey to the north. Here also one visit was very much like another with few ex- ceptions, but a comical incident took place at Latuen. As already stated, there is a dais at the end of the chief’s hall, and while it is large enough for several, the place of honor is at its head. In taking one’s place, it is the proper thing for the senior to leave room for one above him, on the modest fiction that somewhere in the world there might be one still greater who is liable to arrive at any moment. After entering the hall there, | hung up: my fake firearm as usual, and took this place. Several of the subordinate chiefs took their accustomed places below me, but my host with a conscious swagger and to my utter astonishment took the vacant place above me. Even at the risk of trouble this had to be corrected at once, which was done by taking him by the neck and hurling him into the crowd of chiefs below me. During this occurrence | succeeded in holding my placed visitor’s smile, and although greatly shamed before his people, he took it very well. This is the only time in the islands when I was not cheerfully accorded all and more than was my due. Sergeants Miller and Gibbons,&#13;
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a 3&#13;
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A MORO PRAU&#13;
[hese native boats are remarkably seaworthy and remarkably swift.&#13;
capsizing, for the boat itself is too narrow for safety.&#13;
[he outriggers are necessary to keep it from&#13;
In these boats Moros sail the seas from Borneo to Mindanao,&#13;
and formerly their piratical enterprises were carried out in boats similar to this one&#13;
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Si wr&#13;
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A Trip Among My Islands 111&#13;
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A MORO PRAU&#13;
Under full sail, before a Moro fishing village. Many towns such as this were visited by Colonel Cloman on the trip described in this article&#13;
who were with me, always spoke of this with a shudder. It seems they had a private plan in case of trouble to seize the knives of the natives next to them and wade in.&#13;
We stopped at the island of Secubun to see the ruins of the house of Tanton’s forefathers. They were the great pirate chiefs of their day, and they must have been rich and power- fulmen. Like the modern houses, it was built on piles over the water, and these piles were of such size as to puzzle one how they were ever up-ended and driven. Tanton could remember it as a boy, and his stories of the power of his father and the state in which he lived were most interesting. We then crossed to northern Tawi-Tawi for a visit to Dungun, the ancient and deserted capital of the sul- tanate of Sulu. | have never had a more wretched day. The many piles on which the houses once stood had caused the water to become stagnant, tropical vegetation has encroached, and the site is now a vast man- grove swamp on which we finally “landed.” The only means of progress toward real land was along the roots and twisted boughs which were now bare at low tide. They were covered with slime, with pools underneath, and a misstep or a slip in the deep gloom meant an immersion in the swamp. It seemed like an Old Peoples’ Home for snakes, and the sluggish pythons looked so much like the roots that one must be perpetually on the qui vive to keep from grasping them. Sev-&#13;
eral were killed on the way in. Worst of all, the mosquitoes fed upon us in clouds and battling with them while poised on the slip- pery mangrove roots was a super-feat of balancing. We finally reached a small rise of solid ground and there found all that was left of the glories of Dungun—a flight of marble steps slowly sinking into the swamp. On the top of the little hill is the grave of the first Sultan, the Arab who came to them over 300 years ago, converted them to Islam, and conquered all the islands to the north as far as Mindanao, and including a large part of Borneo. A yearly subsidy is still paid by Great Britain to the present Sultan for his rights there. The grave had a white canopy over it, and showed signs of having recently been visited. Datto Calbi, a great chief of Jolo, had made himself its guardian, but | judge that to be not a sinecure while the mos- quitoes exist. For the benefit of fortune hunters, | will add that the natives say that “buckets full” of wonderful pearls were buried with the Sultan, but if so, they are probably worthless by now. The sunlit sea never looked better to me than when we had worked our way out of the dreadful swamp and reached our boat.&#13;
The sail around the northern end of Tawi- Tawi was not to be forgotten. There is a line of small islands just off shore, extending for several miles, and the rushing tide has worn the channel between these and the large&#13;
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112&#13;
island into.a perfect canal. The tide was with us and without sail or oars we were swept through this canal with railroad speed, trusting all to our native steersman. After several other visits, we stopped at deserted Tambagaan. These people, a few years be- fore, had revolted against one of Tanton’s edicts, and it has since been a lifeless island. Only a few cocoanut trees show that it has ever been inhabited. Tanton told with great gusto of this bloody campaign and it was here that his notable charm, or anting-anting, did some of its prettiest work.&#13;
When finally we started on our return journey down the northwest coast of Tawi- Tawi, | decided to stop at Tataan, once a Spanish garrison, but now deserted. When the Aguinaldo revolution of 1898 became desperate, the Spanish abandoned Bongao and concentrated both small garrisons at Tataan, and soon afterward it was the scene of a terribly tragedy. The troops were Fili- pinos with four Spanish officers in command. The soldiers were infected with the spirit of insurrection but, like the British in India, nothing could shake the confidence of the officers in their men until too late. Suddenly the storm broke, and the officers and a few loyal non-commissioned officers were hunted down and killed like rats, while the mutineers became frightened, seized some native boats and fled to Borneo, where they received no sympathy or assistance from the British and were limited to the beach by the fierce dyaks that surrounded them. When a small Span- ish gunboat followed them they found them- selves between two fires and were killed to a man. Several of the ruined buildings were still standing and my natives rehearsed the tragedy and pointed out where each of the officers had made his hopeless fight and met his fate. They seem to have been a brave and resourceful lot, and did their best to the last.&#13;
We camped that afternoon on a hill above Tataan, and there | saw an impressive specta- cle. Two huge waterspouts were visible at sea, and one of them was working toward&#13;
Lieut.-Col. Sidney A. Cloman&#13;
Tawi-Tawi. We all stood on the brow of the hill watching it moving slowly about, when suddenly it took up a straight line for us. It swerved about so that the only thing to do was to stand still and await develop- ments, and in any case we were more than a quarter of a mile from the beach. When it hit the beach below us, it seemed that the whole mass of millions of tons of water fell, the flood surging far up among the trees. There it paused a few seconds, and then re- solved itself into a cyclone that moved directly toward us, twisting the huge trees into matchwood. We stood there silent and appalled when one of our boatmen who was a sort of combined roustabout and medicine- man, hastily kicked off what few clothes he had on, seized a naked kriss and dashed down the hill to meet the storm. He yelled his pagan charms at the top of his lungs and kept slashing at the cyclone as if it were a living enemy. Before he reached it, it suddenly swerved about 45 degrees to the south and passed us by with a fiendish uproar at a dis- tance of a couple of hundred yards. When we looked for our boatman he was standing there bowing to us with a smirk like a prima donna after her solo, as if to say “This is really very easy when one knows how, but still | do it very well.” The tension was at an end, and we shouted with laughter. He was quite a hero with us for the remainder of the trip, but later | had to banish him for some diversified rascality.&#13;
And, as Pepys would have said, from thence on home. This trip forms one of my happi- est memories. Even the mosquitoes and snakes of Dungun have been obscured by time, and were counterbalanced by the won- derful days of sailing through these tropic islands, the comfortable nights on the beaches and the interesting series of towns visited. But more than all, the good companionship of our soldiers and native boatmen, their sense of humor and the merry way in which they met our numerous mishaps were un- important things that have become very important in my memory.&#13;
A third article by Colonel Cloman will appear in the Woripv’s Work for June&#13;
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