CHAPTER XLIV.

vesuviusVESUVIUS AS SEEN FROM NAPLES.

VESUVIUS AS SEEN FROM NAPLES.

In Italy alone one could occupy a winter. Rome, the center of the Catholic world and the home of the Cæsars, is a most fascinating city. There are no mosaics like those of St. Peters and few galleries equal those of the Vatican, while masterpieces of sculptors and painters are to be found on every hand. The old Roman forum is the Mecca of the student, and the Coliseum is still a wonder, defying as it has the storms of nearly two thousand years. At Naples one seesVesuvius and lava beds formed but a few months ago. At one place the stream of lava poured through an archway and hardened as it cooled. When we were there the lava was like stone and could with difficulty be broken. At Florence one sees the best specimens of modern sculpture, and at Milan he visits one of the most famous of the European cathedrals.

Venice is in a class by itself. No other city rivals it in uniqueness. Its streets are canals, and gondolas are the vehicles in which potentate, priest and plebeian ride. It draws visitors from all over the world and sends them away, after a short visit, glad that they came and equally glad to escape from the dampness of the place.

If one desires a summer trip, he can find few journeys more delightful than those through Switzerland and along the Rhine. Lakes, rivers and mountains—these are to be found in abundance, with cities enough to supply the population and hotels to accommodate the the tourists. If one would combine pleasure with instruction, he can profitably employ considerable time in visiting the German universities at Heidelberg and Leipsic and the art galleries at Dresden and Munich. The cathedral at Cologne, it may be added, is by many preferred to the cathedral at Milan.

The northern portions of Europe are even more inviting to the summer tourist than Switzerland or the Rhine. The lakes of Ireland and Scotland and the seacoast resorts of England and Holland give rest and recuperation to multitudes every year. If I were going to suggest a summer trip, it would be as follows:

Leave New York early in June, land at Liverpool, cross over to Newcastle and take a steamer for Bergen, Norway. A week can be spent delightfully in the fjords and on the lakes in the neighborhood of Bergen. Such a combination of deep water and rugged mountain sides, rushing streams and crystal lakes is hard to find. Then let the tourist proceed to Trondhjem, the ancient capital, where King Haakon was recently crowned. From Trondhjem, the traveler can reach the Arctic circle in a little more than a day. While a day's stay is sufficient in the land of the midnight sun if the sky is clear, it is better to allow one's self two or three days' leeway as it is often cloudy in this latitude and at this time of the year. The midnight sun must be seen to be appreciated. No description can do it justice. To pass from day to day with no intervening night, to watch the sun linger for a while in the north near the horizon and then begin a new day's work without a moment's sleep gives one a sensation not soon forgotten. A railroad across Norway brings Christiania within a day's ride of Trondhjem, and from Christiania to Stockholm is another day.

Stockholm is sure to charm the visitor. It is a beautiful town beautifully situated; it stands where the waters of the lakes and the ocean meet. Several days can be spent in Stockholm to advantage, and then one is prepared for the boat ride to St. Petersburg, one of the rarest experiences that one can find in travel. The boat wends its way through islands almost the entire distance.

A week's stay in St. Petersburg will give an opportunity for an inspection of the capital of the greatest of the nations measured by territory, and one of the greatest measured by population. Here one has a chance to learn something of the Greek Church with its splendid cathedrals, rivaling the cathedrals of the Roman Catholic Church. Moscow is even more distinctly Russian than St. Petersburg, and the art gallery there surpasses the one at St. Petersburg in its collection of the works of Russian artists. Tolstoy's summer home is not far from Moscow, and many take advantage of the trip to see the greatest of living philosophers.

The ride from St. Petersburg to Moscow and from Moscow to Warsaw gives a very good view of the interior of Russia, and one can stop off at most any place and learn something of the village life of the Russian peasant. Several days can be occupied in Berlin, and other points of interest can easily be reached from Germany's capital. Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, is only half a day's ride distant. Hanover, Hamburg, Brussels, Amsterdam and The Hague are all within easy reach. In Germany one has an opportunity to learn a great deal about forestry, agriculture and landscape gardening. The parks, groves, shady drives and boulevards furnish the American traveler with many suggestions while the battlefield of Waterloo and the lowlands of Holland will ever be interesting to the student of history.

The tour can be completed by a visit to Paris and London. The social season in the latter ends early in August with the adjournment of parliament. In three months' time one can make this northern trip and return with a fund of information about the countries and their peoples which could never be collected from books. It is not an expensive trip even for first class travel, and the accommodations furnished by the steamers and railroads for second class passengers are such that one can reduce his expenses considerably without discomfort.

But let me add, in conclusion, that one does not have to leave America to find places of interest and that no one can justify a trip abroad until he has become acquainted with his own country. Europe has no summer resorts that surpass the cities on the St. Lawrence, on our northern lakes and in the mountains of the west. In America onecan have every variety from salt-sea bathing to mountain climbing, with fishing thrown in. In natural scenery there is nothing in Europe which surpasses the Niagara, Yellowstone Park, and the Yosemite Valley of California. There are no agricultural views which surpass those in the valleys on the Ohio, the Mississippi and the Missouri, and for a restful winter trip Hawaii, Mexico and Cuba offer attractions that are unexcelled. While the Western Hemisphere is not so old in its civilization, the only advantage that the Orient and Europe can furnish is in the variety of races, customs and religions. In natural scenery America satisfies all expectations. Nothing but the Himalayas offers more sublime heights, and the earth has no other chasm equal to the Grand Canyon of Arizona. After one has seen the wonders of America and the possibilities of its soil, its institutions and its people, he can go abroad with the assurance that he will return, more widely informed, it is true, but more intensely American than before. There is no country like ours, whether it be measured by the bountiful gifts of the Creator or by the works of man. In all that goes to make a nation great materially, commercially, intellectually, politically and morally, our country has no peer. The American, returning to his own shores, feels like thanking Scott for expressing so felicitously the traveler's sentiments:

"Breathes there a man with soul so deadWho never to himself hath said,This is my own, my native land;Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'dAs home his footsteps he hath turn'dFrom wandering on a foreign strand?If such there breathe, go, mark him well,For him no minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,—Despite those titles, power and pelf,The wretch, concentred all in self,Living, shall forfeit fair renown,And, doubly dying, shall go downTo the vile dust from whence he sprung,Unwept, unhonor'd and unsung."

In former letters I have mentioned the missionary work being done by Americans in the Orient, and I deem the subject important enough for an article, in view of the conflicting reports which have been brought back by tourists. We had an opportunity to investigate the work done by American missionaries in Hawaii, Japan, Korea, China, Singapore, India, Egypt, Palestine and Turkey. We met representatives of nearly all the churches in the various departments of missionary work, and as a result of our observations our interest in foreign missions has been quickened. In Hawaii the missionaries laid the foundation for the present civilization in the islands and exerted a most beneficial influence upon the natives.

In Japan the missionary work has spread rapidly and is carried on under four heads. The religious teacher presents the gospel and establishes churches; the school teacher arouses an interest in education and establishes schools; the medical missionary, by unselfishly rendering obvious service, opens the way for both the preacher and the school teacher, while the Young Men's Christian Association and its accompanying organization, the Young Women's Christian Association, weld the church membership into a religious but unsectarian working body. The rapid growth in public instruction has somewhat dwarfed the relative importance of the mission schools in Japan, and the spread of the science of medicine has made the work of the medical missionary less conspicuous there, but the religious teacher in Japan has a field which is not surpassed anywhere. The Japanese people are rapidly drifting away from Buddhism, which until recently was the national faith. Shintoism, which has become the state religion, is not a religion at all, but a reverence for ancestors. Japan must have a religion, for no nation is likely to avoid decay unless its morals are reinforced by religion. If I had the authority to decide the question, I would send some of the leading men of each denomination to Japan to present Christianity to the educated Japanese. English is taught in the schools of Japan, and one can speak to the Japanese without the aid of an interpreter. This proposition I tested severaltimes. While it would be an advantage to have preachers who could speak the Japanese language, still, it is more important that we should send our ablest divines there—men who can meet the most intelligent of the Japanese upon an equal footing and defend before them the Christian philosophy of life.

Japan is the gateway of the Orient, and is to-day exerting an influence upon China greater than the combined influence of all the European nations. Western civilization is likely to enter China through Japan. In fact, I believe that the Christian religion, presented to the Chinese by the Japanese, would spread more rapidly than if presented in any other way, for China has come to regard Japan as a leader of thought. More than five thousand Chinese students are now at schools in Japan, and Japanese teachers are being more and more employed in China. Some of the most earnest Christians whom we met are natives of Japan. At Tokyo, at Kioto, and at Kagoshima I was especially impressed with the sincerity and enthusiasm of the Japanese Christians. I could not but recall the lines "Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love" as I saw how much stronger this heart tie is than the ties of blood or race or language.

In Seoul, Korea, we found a very successful medical mission and a flourishing Young Men's Christian Association. We also learned of several Christian congregations.

In China mission work has made great progress, although it has had to bear the brunt of the fight now being made against foreign influence. During the Boxer trouble there were examples of heroism among the Chinese Christians which recalled the early days of martyrdom. There were those who suffered death because of their devotion to the Christian faith, and thousands more who did not hesitate to take the part of the white Christians against members of their own race. It takes time to educate a race or to make an impression upon a great population like the population of China, but the next quarter of a century is likely to see the Christian religion spread more rapidly among the inhabitants of the Flowery Kingdom than it has during the last century.

That our missionaries often make mistakes need not be denied. They are human, and to err is the lot of all. A missionary among strangers must exercise more sagacity and discretion than one who works among people of his own race. The wonder is not that missionaries make mistakes, but that they do not make more than are now charged to them. It is even possible that a missionary occasionally proves untrue to his calling—is it strange that this should happento a missionary almost alone and with but little sympathetic support, when it sometimes happens to ministers who are surrounded by friends and hedged in so that a fall would seem almost impossible?

One part of the missionary's work has received scant notice, namely—the planting of western ideas in the Orient. The daily life of a missionary is not only a constant sermon, but to a certain extent, an exposition of western ways. His manner of dress and his manner of living are noted, and even if he did not say a word, he would make an impression upon those about him. It would be worth while to send Christians to the Orient merely to show the fullness and richness of a Christian life, for, after all, the example of an upright person, living a life of service according to the Christian ideal, is more eloquent than any sermon—it is the unanswerable argument in favor of our religion.

It is sometimes suggested by those unfriendly to missionary work that missionaries live in too great comfort. This criticism will not have weight with those who have attempted to live in the Orient upon the salary of a missionary, but even if the missionaries lived more luxuriantly than they do, that would still exert a beneficial influence. As the Chinaman becomes educated he learns of the manners and customs of the people of other nations, and the home of the missionary gives an opportunity for comparisons. In China there is polygamy, while the missionary has but one wife. In the Chinese home the birth of a son is the occasion for rejoicing; the birth of a daughter an occasion for less rejoicing, if not actual mourning. In the missionary's home the girl child is as welcome as the boy. The missionary's wife is not only a standing rebuke to the practice of foot-binding, but is a stimulus to the movement now setting in for the education of women.

The Catholic missionaries reach a class which might not be reached by Protestant missionaries and Protestant missionaries appeal to some who could not be reached by the Catholic missionaries. Each church does its own work in its own way, and the result is better than if either church attempted to follow the example of the other. The celibacy of the priest and his voluntary sacrifice of home and its joys that he may more fully devote himself to religion—these appeal to some, especially to those who have been impressed with the asceticism of the religious teachers of the Orient. There are others, however, who are more impressed with a form of Christianity which does not deny to its ministers the advantages of the family. In other words, the different branches of the Christian Church, each pursuing its own way, meet the widely different needs of the heathen better than any one church could do it.

Missionary work in the Malay states has been very slow because the Malays are nearly all Mohammedans, and it has been found difficult to make headway against this religion. The Mohammedan believes in one God, accepts most of the Old Testament, and regards Christ as a great prophet, but claims that Mahomet was a later prophet and a greater one.

Burma, the home of Buddhism, is one of the best missionary fields, and great success has attended the Baptist mission, which has its headquarters at Rangoon.

For many years American missionaries have been establishing schools and churches in India. While this field has also been developed by the English missionaries, I was informed that a majority of the Sunday school children are now attending American Sunday schools. It is one of the indisputable proofs of our country's supremacy in altruistic work that though drawing nothing whatever from India in the way of revenue, it sends into India every year for religious and educational purposes almost as much as England does, notwithstanding the fact that England draws something like a hundred millions a year from India.

We found the various departments of Christian work growing vigorously in India. Medical missionaries are winning the confidence and the affections of the unfortunate; teachers are bringing increasing thousands to a higher level of intellectual development; and the ministers are explaining to the people why it is that the Christian is sympathetic and benevolent. Simply stated, the medical missionary compels attention, the school teacher takes the one whose attention has been aroused and furnishes an education which enables the pupil to see things in their proper relation, while the minister points out the philosophy of the efforts of the other two and presents the conception of life, which leads both medical missionary and teacher to separate themselves from home and friends and devote themselves to people who are connected with them only by the primal ties which bind each human being to every other.

I shall long remember two meetings which I addressed in India. One was held under the auspices of the Y. M. C. A. at Allahabad, one of the centers of the Hindu religion. At the conclusion of my address an Indian arose and addressed me as follows. "Mr. Bryan, you can not judge of the influence of Christianity upon our country by the number of church members. The spirit of Christ and the Christian ideal have made an impression far wider than the church membership would indicate. Tell your people that the Indians are grateful to them for the missionaries and teachers whom they have sent among us, and tell themhow few these are in number compared with our needs. Send us more, and assure your people that we appreciate the benefits received from America."

This unsolicited testimonial to the good work of our missionaries and teachers is entirely deserved. The influence of Christianity upon the Orient is vastly greater than one would think, if the church membership were the test. The stimulus which is given to Eastern thought is enormous, and already the Hindus, Parsees and Mohammedans are imitating the methods of the Christian world and establishing schools independent of the government. The education of the boys is proceeding more rapidly than the education of the girls, but the latter is not entirely neglected. One Mohammedan woman, of Bombay, of unusual mental strength and character, outlined a plan which she had formed for establishing a school for the women of her religious faith.

The Bombay meeting was in some respects the most remarkable meeting that I ever addressed. Rev. Mr. Mell, an American, is pastor of the Methodist Church in Bombay. While in Calcutta I received a letter from him asking me to deliver in Bombay, in his church, the lecture entitled "The Prince of Peace," which I delivered at Tokyo and at Manila. As the time approached for the meeting, he concluded that his church would not be large enough for the audience and arranged to secure the Town Hall, which accommodates about three thousand people. He was somewhat fearful that this hall would be larger than necessary, but it was the only audience room that he could secure. When the time came for the meeting, the hall was not only filled to overflowing, but the crowd outside was such that it was difficult for us to effect an entrance. On the platform were prominent Hindus, Mohammedans and Parsees, and three-fourths of the audience, at least, was made up of non-Christian Indians. Yet these people listened for more than an hour to a defense of the Christian religion—listened as attentively as any audience ever listened to a political speech, and when I went from the hall, the younger men were massed along the way and cheered as our people cheer during the campaign. The next day I received a letter from one of the young men thanking me for shaking hands with him as I passed out.

In the letters on India I have referred to the Presbyterian college at Allahabad. At Bombay we found a Congregational school for boys and girls and a school for the blind. It touches one's heart to see these sightless little Indians cared for by American philanthropy and, under the teaching of sympathetic friends, made more capable of self-support and raised to a higher intellectual level than millions who cansee. Many of the children taken into these schools are orphans whose parents died during the famines. What a history might be written if the events of their lives were put on record, and how much evidence would be furnished to those who endeavor to trace the providence of God in the lives of individuals as well as in the course of nations.

I have in another article referred to the work of the United Presbyterians in the valley of the Nile. It would be difficult to overestimate the influence which these pioneer Americans have exerted over the descendants of the Pharaohs. The government is giving more and more attention to educational matters in Egypt, but the first work was done by the missionaries, and no one can appreciate what this work means who has not had an opportunity to compare the boys and the girls in the schools with the children who are growing up in ignorance outside. In Jerusalem the Catholic school for girls most interested us, and I need not add that the Catholic missionaries have in many countries been the first to risk their lives in the spread of the the gospel and in the establishment of schools, orphan asylums and hospitals.

In Syria and in Turkey the Americans are very active. For half a century they have made Beyrout headquarters for Syria, and their churches and schools are scattered all over this portion of Asia. At Constantinople also we met a large company of the representatives of the various American churches, and their schools have been built on both sides of the Bosphorus.

Why spend money on foreign missions? If the Oriental is happy in his idolatry or in his worship of God through other religious forms, why disturb him? These questions may be answered in various ways, but one answer will suffice for the purpose of this article. The Christian ideal of life is the highest ideal. There is no more beautiful conception of life than that it is an overflowing spring. There is no true measure of greatness except the Christian measure, namely—service. If this ideal is good enough for America, it is good enough for all the world. If truth must, according to eternal laws, triumph, then this ideal must triumph over all lower ones, and how can it triumph over lower ideals unless it is brought into contact with them? If we see a man engaged in some useful work, but laboring with antiquated tools, it is a kindness to him to offer him an implement that will increase his effectiveness. If we see a man following a low ideal and making but little of life, is it not a kindness to offer him a higher one which will not only enlarge his usefulness but his happiness as well? If the Christian ideal is worthy to be followed in America, it is worthy to be presented in every land, and experience has shown that it is anideal capable of being made universal, for it has commended itself to people of every clime and of every tongue.

But it is said that we must not neglect home missions in our zeal to carry the gospel and its attendant blessings to foreign shores. This is a familiar objection, but as a rule it is urged by those who do the least for home missions. I think I am far within the truth when I say that the most liberal contributors to foreign missions are also the most liberal contributors to home missions and that those who are so afraid that work at home will be sacrificed for work abroad are the very ones who themselves make few sacrifices for the work at home. The same spirit which leads one to be generous in the support of those benevolences which are immediately about him leads him to take an interest in the needy wherever they are found. The same spirit which makes one anxious to have the Sermon on the Mount known in his neighborhood leads him to desire that the knowledge of this sermon and the philosophy which it contains shall be brought to the people of all the world.

There is another answer to those who say that we must confine our efforts to the home field until we have supplied every moral need. If an individual refuses to assist in the improvement of others until he has himself reached perfection, who will be able to aid others? In the effort to help others one often finds more improvement than could come from a concentration of his efforts on himself. So the country which refuses to extend a helping hand to other lands until all its people have passed beyond the need of improvement will do nothing for the world. As the contributions to benevolences would be small, indeed, if only those contributed who could do so without sacrifice, so the contributions to the world's advancement would be but slight if only those helped others who were not themselves in need of help.

"Let him who would be the chiefest among you be the servant of all;" if this is the measure of national greatness, then our nation is the greatest of all, for its contributions to the world surpass the contributions made by any other nation. These contributions are made in three ways: First, it contributes through the men and women who have come from other lands to study here, and who carry American ideas back to their homes; second, through the men and women who have gone to other lands as preachers and teachers; and, third, through books and printed reports.

I venture the suggestion that it would be worth while to establish schools in the United States where representatives of other nations could be brought and made acquainted with Christianity and with the institutions which have grown up in Christian society. Thesecould then go among their own people and preach with greater effectiveness than foreigners possibly can.

Next to this comes the education of the natives in schools established in their own land and this, of course, is far less expensive. From $40 to $50 a year will pay for the board, clothing and tuition of a student in the lower classes of an Oriental Christian college. If the hundreds of thousands of Christians who could, without sacrifice, educate one student a year could be induced to contribute money for this purpose, what an impetus would be given to the cause of Christianity throughout the Orient! And who, when he remembers what has been accomplished by one trained mind directed by a high and holy purpose, will attempt to estimate the beneficent influence of money thus spent? Who will set limits to the good that may be done by those Orientals who are preparing themselves for larger work under the instruction of American missionaries and teachers?

Making due allowance for the frailty of human nature and for the mistakes which all are liable to make, it may be said without fear of successful contradiction that the missionaries, physicians and teachers who consecrate themselves to the advancement of Asia's millions along Christian lines are as high minded, as heroic, as self-sacrificing, and, considering the great destiny of the race, as useful as any equal number of men and women to be found in any other part of the world.

missionA MISSION SCHOOL

A MISSION SCHOOL

Each locality has its questions of interest; each state has subjects which arouse discussion; each nation has its issues of paramount importance, and the world has its problems. There are transient questions which come and go and questions which, like Tennyson's brook, "go on forever." Each generation, in each country, meets the issues presented by conditions, but all the nations of the earth are constantly grappling with problems universal in their scope and everlasting in duration. In his famous oration at Gettysburg, Abraham Lincoln spoke of an "unfinished work" which those buried there had promoted and to which the living should dedicate themselves. Every generation finds an unfinished work when it enters upon life's stage and leaves the work unfinished when it departs. The work of civilization is ever an unfinished one for the reason that new problems present themselves as soon as present ones have been solved. In our trip around the world we have had an opportunity to note some of the problems which most concern all peoples at all times. The first concerns the legitimate sphere of government—what should the government, acting for all the people, do, and what should be left to the individual? This problem is under consideration in every civilized nation, and no two nations have reached the same solution. At the two extremes stand the individualist and the socialist—the former jealously guarding the individual and opposing any encroachments upon his sphere of action, the latter emphasizing the work of the state and seeking to convert the work of production and the work of distribution into state functions. Between these extremes stand the mass of the people, governed more by the exigencies of each individual case than by the theories put forward by individualist and socialist. In some directions the governments of Europe and Asia have extended the sphere of the state beyond anything known in the United States; in some respects our government has enlarged the sphere of the state beyond anything attempted in the old world, but everywhere the tendency is to extend rather than to diminish the sphere of the state's activities.

In the United States the public school is probably the best illustrationof extensive co-operation on the part of the public. We regard the education of the people as a matter of public importance—so vital a matter, in fact, that we no longer depend upon the private school. The private school has its place, and its establishment is encouraged by localities and regarded with favor by the government, but the people, acting as a whole, insist that the school door shall be open to every child born into the country. In the last quarter of a century much advance has been made in the establishment by the public of technical schools, such as law schools, medical colleges, dentistry schools, industrial schools and agricultural colleges. Probably the greatest comparative advance has been made in the matter of agricultural colleges and experiment stations. In Europe the public school system is spreading, more rapidly in northern than in southern Europe, but not less surely in southern Europe. In Asia the people are just beginning to recognize education as a public function—a part of the state's work. In Japan public instruction has for some years been modeled after the systems employed in the United States and Europe. In Asia the public school is more of a modern origin, but some idea of the rapidity with which the public school is spreading in China may be known from the fact that four thousand public schools have been established within five years in the district of one of the viceroys.

Municipal ownership presents another phase of this subject; a century ago comparatively few cities in this country or Europe owned their own waterworks; now it is the exception that any city of any size relies upon a private corporation for its water supply. City lighting is having the same history, although municipalization began later with lighting plants than with waterworks. Now comes the question of street car lines, and, as the same principles apply, the same inevitable trend toward municipal ownership is noticeable. The experience of all the cities has been practically the same; first, liberal franchises to induce the establishment of water, light or street car plants; second, efforts at regulation and restriction, made futile by the corrupt influence of the franchise companies; third, municipal ownership as a protection to the people and as a means of purifying politics. In the extent to which municipal ownership has been carried Great Britain leads the world, although in other countries some cities like Vienna have rivaled the cities of Great Britain.

In nearly all of the countries of Europe and Asia the telegraph lines are now owned by the government, and in most of the cities the telephone system is also owned by the public. It is hardly necessary to say that in all countries of any standing the mail service isnow in the hands of the government. There is very noticeable growth in the government ownership of railroads. Many years ago the government ownership of railroads was tested in various European nations and the tendency toward the extension of government mileage and the diminution of the mileage of privately owned roads has been constant. In some countries there is still competition between the government lines and the lines owned by private corporations, but experience leaves no doubt that the lines owned by the government will ultimately supplant the roads in private hands. Switzerland has within four years purchased the main railroad system within her territory; Japan has within a year extended the government railroads by purchasing some of the roads formerly in private hands, and the Indian government is planning to absorb more of the privately owned lines. In France a number of the railroads hold fifty-year charters, which have now more than half expired, and which provide for the surrender of the lines to the government at the end of that period—the government in the meantime guaranteeing a fixed interest and an annual contribution to the sinking fund. It is not fair to compare the government railroads of Europe with the private railroads of America. The conditions are quite different. The comparison should be made between the government and private in the same country. Experience has shown that in the United States municipal plants furnish better and cheaper service than private plants.

While local considerations and local conditions have much to do in the determination of each case, there is one general principle which is becoming more and more clearly outlined as the question of government ownership is discussed, namely, that when a monopoly becomes necessary it must be a government monopoly and not a monopoly in private hands. In other words, the principle now most familiarly applied is, "competition where competition is possible; government monopoly where competition is impossible." I have not space for the discussion of details; many different methods have been employed in different countries for the acquiring of private plants by the city or state, and different methods have been employed in different countries for the elimination of the political element from public service. Those who have faith in the intelligence and capacity of the people have confidence that they will be able to reduce to a minimum any dangers attendant upon a course which they believe to be necessary to their own welfare. The fact that after more than a quarter of a century of experience no retrograde movement is to be observed furnishes some proof that the dangers anticipated have not been shown to be insurmountable.

Another world problem is to be found in the effort to fix woman's place in the social economy. No one can travel around the world without noting the wide difference that exists between the treatment of woman in different countries. In the Orient she has, until comparatively recent years, occupied a very inferior position. In no respect has the influence of the west upon the east been more marked than in the elevation of woman. Even in Japan, where for half a century the ideas of America and Europe have found vigorous growth, woman's position is not yet equal to man's. The education of boys received attention before the education of the girls, but the girls' schools are now multiplying in number and in attendance. Traveling in the country one still sees the blackened teeth, it formerly having been regarded as the proper thing for a woman to make her teeth black after marriage, but among the young generation the custom is unknown. In China woman has not only lagged behind man in education, but she has been subjected to a torture known as foot-binding which is to be found nowhere else. Societies are now being formed to discourage the practice, but it is sad to learn how slowly this reform has grown. In both Japan and China plural marriage, or what has been equivalent to plural marriage, has been common. The man has been allowed to take unto himself as many wives as he could support without asking the consent of former wives—a practice which seems strange to those who have been brought up to regard the marriage vows as mutually binding and to consider man and woman as standing upon an equal plane when entering upon the relation of husband and wife.

In India child marriage is one of the worst customs that has afflicted these unhappy people. Girls have been given in marriage when only nine or ten years old, and a widow of twelve or thirteen is not unusual. Remarriage of widows is not permitted under Hindu custom, suttee, or the burning of the widow, formerly being regarded as the proper thing. In both India and Arabia the women are still veiled and excluded from the society of men. It is difficult to estimate the loss that has come to society from the failure to recognize the mutual stimulus which man and woman find in co-operation in the work of civilization.

Even in Europe woman's position is not as good as it is in the United States, although in the Christian countries her rights are more respected and her good influence more appreciated. Max O'Rell, the witty French lecturer, used to say that if he was going to be born a woman he would pray to be born in the United States. It was a happy expression, for surely there is no other country in which sohigh an estimate is placed upon woman or where she more fully shares in both the joys and responsibilities of life. For the superiority of her position she has Christianity and education to thank; Christianity has ever recognized woman's equality with man and education has fitted her to be a real helpmate in life.

A third question which one meets everywhere is the labor question. In Europe it is a question between labor and capital and the laborer is organizing for the advancement of his welfare. The guild and the labor organization have long sought to enlarge the laborer's share of the joint profit of labor and capital and to improve the conditions which form his environment. The efforts of these societies have mainly been directed, first, toward the improvement of sanitary conditions; second, toward the shortening of hours; and, third, toward an increase in wages. It looks like a reflection on mankind in general to say that laboring men should have to ask legislation to protect their lives while at work. It would seem that employers would of their own accord regard the safety and the health of employes as of paramount importance, and yet it has been necessary even in the United States to compel the building of air-shafts in mines and to force the use of safety appliances on railroads and street car lines, and in the operation of machinery. Still more strange is it that it should be necessary to fix a minimum age at which children can be employed. The very sight of little boys and girls working in factories at the expense of their physical growth and their mental development is so revolting that one can hardly understand how such legislation can be necessary, and yet throughout Europe and the United States laboring men through their organizations have been compelled to fight for the protection of the children of the poor. In Asia the inauguration of factories has not yet been followed by the protection of the children.

Reforms advance in groups. It is seldom that one real reform is achieved alone, so the limitation of hours of labor has, as a rule, accompanied legislation for the protection of children and for the improvement of sanitary conditions in mines and workshops. Those who now enjoy an eight-hour day can remember the nine-hour day and the ten-hour day, but can hardly recall the days of twelve or fourteen hours. In the factories that are starting up in the Orient long hours are the rule, and with long hours there is the attendant degradation of the toiler. The demand for the eight-hour day is an international one and the laboring man is gradually winning his fight, partly by an appeal to conscience and partly by proof that the highest efficiency is inconsistent with long hours.

In the raising of wages two factors have been at work—the labor organization and the higher efficiency that has come with more universal education. The educated workman can earn more than the ignorant one and he soon demands a compensation commensurate with his services.

The labor saving machine, too, has played no unimportant part in increasing the workman's compensation. It has raised the quality of the work done and has brought into use a higher grade of skill than was formerly employed. While the labor saving machine is by some regarded as antagonistic to the welfare of the laborer, no farsighted observer can fail to note that it has increased rather than diminished the number employed at the work into which it has been introduced, while it has developed a higher skill which, in turn, has secured a higher compensation. The handling of a railroad locomotive requires more skill than the handling of a freight team, and the engineer commands higher wages than the teamster. The railroad by vastly increasing commerce has multiplied the number of persons engaged in the handling of passengers and freight, and it has at the same time improved the character of the work done and raised the intellectual standard of those employed. The same result has followed in other kinds of work. It might be stated thus: labor saving machinery, as it is called—although it might more properly be called labor-multiplying machinery—has created a demand for a higher grade of labor; universal education has supplied this demand, and the labor organization has secured for these higher grade laborers larger compensation and more favorable conditions.

One thought has grown upon me as we have traveled, namely, the dignity of labor. In no other country is so high an estimate placed upon the wage-earner as in this country. In the Orient there was, until the advent of western ideas, an impassable gulf between the prince and his people, and there is even now in a large part of Asia a gulf so wide that one who toils with his hands cannot look across it. The royal families have lived by the sword and they have forced from those beneath them a tribute sufficient to support themselves and their armed retainers. The masses have been the prey of the governing classes, no matter what tribe or family held the throne.

In Europe the extremes of society have been brought nearer together, although there is still a gap between the aristocracy and the masses. This gap, however, is constantly decreasing, education and popular government being the most influential factors in bringing about this result. With education now more and more within the reach of all, the poor boy is forcing his way to the front in business, and with hisfortune thus acquired he is leveling rank. In the political world, too, the champion of the weak and the oppressed is making his influence felt and his political power is opening before him doors which until recently were closed. In France deputies, senators and even presidents have come up from the people, and in England a labor leader, John Burns, has fought his way into the cabinet. Who will say that the European laboring man is not making progress when labor's foremost representative in Great Britain becomes the guest of the king?

Yes, America leads the world in recognition of the true worth of the man who toils, and yet even in America there is room for still further advancement. Our national life is full of instances of men who have risen from office boy to merchant prince, from plowman to governor, congressman and senator; we have had a rail-splitter made president—and no president ever bore himself better or served amid more trying times—while another president could recall the days when he followed the towpath on a canal. And yet, with these illustrious examples of poverty overcome and great careers built upon a foundation of manual labor, there is still much to be done before the producer of wealth will receive the consideration which he deserves. The dignity of labor will not be appreciated as it ought to be until our young men are taught that it is more honorable to contribute by labor to the sum of the world's wealth than to spend in idleness the money that others have made.

Tolstoy contends that people cannot be kept in sympathy with each other unless all perform some physical labor throughout their lives; he says that contempt for those who do the drudgery of life is natural if we put that drudgery upon others and reserve for ourselves only intellectual pursuits. Whether this be true or not, it is true that we cannot view labor in its proper relation to life unless we measure life by a standard different from that which is now ordinarily applied. So long as we measure life by its income rather than by its outgo, we shall seek those occupations which yield the largest pecuniary reward; when we measure life by what we put into the world rather than what we take out of it, we shall seek those occupations which offer the largest field of usefulness.

Enough has been said to indicate that the world's work is broad enough to enlist all who are willing to work and that the variety is sufficient to allow each to follow his taste and select his field, provided only that he is actuated by a purpose to render to society a service which will be more than an equivalent for all that society has done for him.

One who travels in foreign lands is likely to learn but little of the governments of the lands through which he passes, unless he makes a special effort to inform himself, for the lines of travel are laid through the communities where law and order are maintained and where the government is so stable that the casual observer has no occasion to investigate its inner workings. The mountains tower above him, and he sees them; the chasms yawn before him and he beholds them; and the various forms of agriculture leave a panoramic effect upon his memory. He frequently meets the merchant in his store, sees the laborer at his work quite often, and occasionally beholds a grandee in his carriage; but not being able to speak the language of the country he learns little about the forms of government and less about the political aspirations of the people; and yet the science of government is one of the most important sciences, and the "royal art," as it has been called, stands first among the arts. Tolstoy has declared that the science which teaches us how to live is the most important of sciences, and surely the science of government comes next. While it is true that an individual can by misbehavior forfeit the blessings of good government, or by good behavior minimize the evils of bad government—while it is true that no government, however good, can save a man from himself if he is determined to throw himself away, and that no government, however bad, can entirely deprive him of the rewards of virtue, yet governments may do much to encourage or to hinder the development of the people.

Governments may retard or advance the material growth of a country. For instance, our government is in part, at least, responsible for the unparalleled development of the United States, because it has given the largest encouragement to the individual. The Japanese government has in like manner stimulated education by the establishment of a public school system and has developed a large numberof public men by the organization of a parliamentary system. Turkey, on the other hand, has blighted some of the fairest portions of the earth by suppressing political independence, by ignoring education, and by leaving the industrious citizen at the mercy of the marauder. There has been little political life in Turkey because few of the people have had the education necessary to take a broad survey of the country and its needs, while great stretches of fertile country lie uncultivated because the government is so indifferent to the rights of the people that the tiller of the soil has no assurance that he will be allowed to harvest the crop which he plants. Those who have investigated the subject contend that the valley of the Jordan would be a fruitful region if protection were given to those who would cultivate it, but because the Bedouin has been allowed to come down from the hillside and reap where he has not sown, the land is neglected.

In a trip around the globe one sees in actual working every form of government known to man. In Russia, an unlimited monarchy until recently laid its oppressive hand upon more than a hundred millions of human beings. They held their lives, their liberty and their property at the will of the ruler. Any citizen in the czar's vast domains could be taken from his home and exiled for life without his or his family knowing the cause of his punishment. The royal family and the officeholders held the people in contempt and denied even the natural rights of men. The people were taught to be thankful for any favors, however small, that the "Little Father" saw fit to bestow, and they were likewise taught that it was dangerous to complain even when the most fundamental right was ignored. Now there is a duma, and the duma as an institution still lives. No one can predict through what trials and tribulations the country may yet pass, but constitutional government will yet be hers. As in the winter time we cannot foresee or foretell what days will be pleasant and what days stormy, but do know that in a few months we shall have summer, so without being able to determine through what tumults or riots or revolutions Russia must pass, we know that in a few years she will have a stable government in which her people will have a voice.

In Japan the government is somewhat mixed in its form. She has a parliament, but the executive branch of the government is not yet in the hands of the people. The tendency in Japan, as everywhere, is toward further limitation of the power of the sovereign and further enlargement of the power of the people. The vital political question there now is whether the emperor shall select his advisers from among his personal friends or from the members of the party which dominates the parliament. There is, of course, no doubt of the ultimate triumph ofthe parliamentary party. Denmark witnessed a similar struggle which lasted for nearly a generation and terminated, as such struggles always do, in the triumph of the parliament.

In China they have a mixture of monarchy and aristocracy. The monarch is unlimited in his power, but he is so hedged about by the aristocracy that he really has very little independence. Like some of the native princes who rule under Dutch regents, the Chinese ruler is the servant rather than the master of his officials. Living in the forbidden city and meeting personally but few of his people, he is quite dependent upon the mandarins. The aristocracy of China is not an aristocracy of birth or of wealth, but a civil service aristocracy. While positions are often bought—sometimes even sold at auction when the emperor needs money—yet, as a rule, the civil servants of China are selected by examination. These systems, while so antiquated that they have been recently very materially modified, were intended to be fair as between applicants. The course of study was not comprehensive, and the tests applied gave but little idea of one's fitness for office. These men, once in power, were the rulers in all local affairs, and the higher officials were influential in all matters of state, and yet, in spite of this system—or because of it, whichever the reader will have it—China slumbered while the nations around awakened. The fact that the appointees to the civil service had to go through certain routine examinations prescribed by those who had already passed through the same routine, kept the service in a rut, and as it was not necessary that the appointees should be interested in anyone but themselves, they showed no concern about the people from whom they drew their salaries. It was a system calculated to develop the selfishness which seemed an inherent part of Chinese life and philosophy. Now that the school examinations have been substituted for the civil service examinations an improvement may be expected in the service, but even the modified system will not keep the servant in touch with those whom he serves.

In Europe the constitutional monarchy has undergone a constant development until in many countries the king is but a figurehead. In England the sovereign would not think of vetoing a bill passed by the legislative body, and the House of Lords seldom vetoes a bill passed by the House of Commons. The prime minister is a much more potent factor in government than the king himself. In Norway the government is brought even nearer to the people by the substitution of one legislative body for two, that body being elected by the people under universal suffrage. The king of Norway is even less likely to attempt to obstruct the will of parliament than the king ofEngland. Norway has reduced monarchy to a minimum and placed the government in the hands of the voters to do with it as they please.

In Switzerland the republican form of government has stood the test of experiment. In the absence of pomp, ceremony and official extravagance the government of Switzerland is not surpassed, if equaled, by the government of any similar population in the world. Three languages are spoken within her borders and used in parliamentary proceedings. Part of her people are Protestant, part Catholic and part Jew, and yet, with the initiative and the referendum in both the federal government and the cantons, the government rests so securely upon popular will that the people live together in entire harmony and could resist a much larger population attacking from without.

The colonial system also comes under one's observation in a trip around the world. The Netherlands have large colonial possessions in the Malay archipelago, but they have been compelled to abandon the culture system—a form of slavery—and there are signs of a political development which will some day make it necessary for Holland to consult the wishes of the people more than she has in the past.

I have already spoken of both India and Egypt in other articles, and I only refer to the subject here in order to draw a contrast between colonialism as applied to Canada and colonialism as it is seen in India. In Canada the people have as complete self-government as they have in England, the governor-general being as little likely to use the veto power as the king himself. In India, on the other hand, the natives are not consulted in regard to the general government. Taxes are levied and collected, armies are raised, fed and directed without regard to the wishes of the native population. They have experienced all of the evils that can come from a colonial system administered by a trading company, and they have had a chance to learn that a colonial system, even when administered in such a way as to command the admiration of those who believe in colonialism, still falls far short of self-government. I have already said that we have treated the Filipinos better than England has treated the people of India, but that we have done so at an enormous expense to our country. It would be better for the Filipinos and better for us to recognize their right to self-government and independence.

After one has had a chance to see monarchies, limited and unlimited, aristocracies based upon birth and aristocracies based upon a merit system; and after one has had a chance to compare these systems with the republican form of government, he is ready to declare that from every standpoint that government is best which rests uponthe consent of the governed. Some have insisted that a monarchy is stronger because all of the power of the government can be concentrated quickly and made effective at once, but this advantage is small when compared with the advantages to be derived from a government which the people support with enthusiasm. The historian, Bancroft, rightly declares that a republic ought to be the strongest of all governments because, "discarding the implements of terror, it dares to build its citadel in the hearts of men."

A republic which is, not merely in theory but in fact, "a government of the people, by the people and for the people," is the most enduring of governments. It is strong because it is loved and loved because it is good.

Aristocracies are defended by their advocates on the ground that a few are wiser than the many, but this is not true, whether it is an aristocracy of birth or of learning, for as the whole is greater than any of its parts, so a democracy must be wiser than an aristocracy because it can draw upon the wisdom of all. The old saying, that "everybody knows more than anybody," is founded upon reason and experience, but there is another reason why a democracy is better than an aristocracy, namely, that the interests of the whole people are safer in the hands of the people themselves than in the hands of any element which assumes to speak for the people. The faults of free government have been found to be, not in the people themselves, but in those who, selected to represent them, betray their trust. If the representatives of the people whom the people themselves select are sometimes unfaithful to their trust, what must be expected of those who assume to act without being selected by the people?

In aristocracies resting upon birth the very fact that the rulers regard themselves as superior to the masses makes it difficult for them to view questions from the standpoint of the people at large. Whatever the form of the government, there will always be, as Jefferson declared, two parties, one tending toward democracy and the other tending toward aristocracy. Those who have faith in the people are constantly trying to make the government more and more responsive to the will of the people; those who distrust the people are constantly endeavoring to increase the distance between the citizen and his representative. In a republic there are some who emphasize the virtues of the people and others who emphasize the virtues of the representative. Some insist that the people should think for themselves and elect representatives to give expression to the public will; others insist that the representatives should be so superior to the masses as to be able to do the thinking for the people.

In the early history of this country Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton represented these two ideas. Jefferson not only believed that the people should think for themselves and should elect their representatives, but he believed in short terms and frequent elections in order that the citizens might more effectively control their public servants. Hamilton, on the other hand, believed in a strong centralized government in which the officials should be removed as far as possible from the voter. His plan of government, carefully prepared and presented at the time of the formation of the constitution, provided for a president and senators elected for life or during good behavior, and for governors of the several states appointed by the general government for life or during good behavior. No one would propose such a plan at this time, so great has been the advance toward democracy. This growth is indicated by the fact that the national house of representatives has four times declared in favor of the election of the United States senators by direct vote of the people and by the further fact that more than two-thirds of the states of the union have by legislative action declared in favor of this change. The unpopularity of the latter part of Hamilton's plan, namely, the appointment of governors by the general government, is shown by the fact that territorial government under which the governors are appointed by the president, not for life, but for a few years, is deemed unsatisfactory. The people of a territory are always wanting statehood, and the main reason is that they desire to elect their own officials.

The democratic idea is growing—the term is not used in a partisan sense, but in that broader sense in which it describes government by the people. There is not a civilized nation in which the idea of popular government is not growing, and in all the semi-civilized nations there are reformers who are urging an extension of the influence of the people in government. So universal is this growth of democratic ideas that there can be no doubt of their final triumph. Monarchies, at first unlimited, are now limited, and limited monarchies are recognizing more and more the right of the people to a voice in their own government. Monarchies and aristocracies tend toward democracy, and republics tend to become more and more democratic in their forms and methods.

When the seed, planted in the earth, sends forth the tender leaf and then the stalk; when the grain appears upon the stalk and supplies the bread necessary for the support of our bodies, we know that there is back of the seed a force irresistible and constantly working. As irresistible and as ceaseless in its activity is the force behind political and moral truth. The advocates of the American theory of governmentcan, therefore, labor with the confident assurance that the principles planted upon American soil a century and a quarter ago are destined to grow here and everywhere until arbitrary power will nowhere be known, and, until the voice of the people shall be recognized, if not as the voice of God, at least, as Bancroft defines it, as the best expression of the divine will to be found upon the earth.

In republics, as in other forms of government, there will at times be disturbances, but these come from a failure to recognize and respect the current of public opinion. If we stand by the side of a stream and watch it glide past us, we can in safety listen to the song of the waters, but if we attempt to dam the stream we find the water rising above the dam. If we make the dam higher still, the water rises still more, and at last the force in the obstructed water is so great that no dam made by human hands can longer stay it. Sometimes, when the dam is washed away, damage is done to those who live in the valley below, but the fault is not in the stream, but in those who attempt to obstruct it. So in human society there is a current of public opinion which flows ever onward. If left to have its way it does not harm anyone, but if obstructed, this current may become a menace. At last the obstruction must yield to the force of the current. In monarchies and aristocracies the dam is sometimes built so high that it is removed by force, but in republics the ballot can be relied upon to keep the channel of the stream open, or if obstruction is attempted, to remove it while yet it can be removed with safety. The advantage of a republic is that the people, through their representatives, are able to give public opinion free play, and the more democratic a republic is, the more nearly does it conform to the wishes of the people.

No one can study the governments of the old world without a feeling of gratitude that in the new world the science of government has been carried to its highest point, and we of the United States can rejoice that our nation leads the world in recognizing the right of the people to devise and to direct the government under which they are to work out their destiny.

Back to Index Next